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“You know, you have a lot of fucking balls,” Sukuna growled, the door swinging closed behind him. Gojo glanced at him, looking utterly unimpressed as he shut the manga in his hand.
“I’m literally just standing here.” He said sweetly as if he wasn’t standing there beside Sukuna’s bed dripping wet, naked as the day he was born, having clearly just gotten out of the shower.
Sukuna’s bath, and he’d probably used Sukuna’s soap too. The sorcerer probably smelled like him now, like incense-flavored bath oils. Fuck, and if that thought didn’t do dangerous things to the curse’s insides.
“Don’t play innocent, it’s not a good look on you,” he stalked over to the sorcerer with fire in his eyes and an itch under his skin, tossing his obi aside in favor of grabbing onto the sorcerer’s chest with his upper pair of hands. Gojo made a strangled noise, trying to step back and only succeeding in toppling backward onto the bed, Sukuna’s body fallg on top of him with a savage grin.
Gojo glared coyly up at him, but Sukuna could feel the tell-tale twitch of mutual interest against his thigh. A droplet of bathwater trailed down the sorcerer’s slender neck, pooling in the hollow of his throat, and Sukuna wanted nothing more than to lean closer and lick it up. Which he did, earning a high-pitched sound of indignation from the other man.
“Really?” he whined, that low tone so alluring when he was pretending to be annoyed, “Kuna, get off of me.” Sukuna’s grin widened, and he shifted to prop himself over Gojo’s long, bare form, pulling back to drag his gaze down the feast before him without bothering to disguise the dark lust in his eyes. He was right. Gojo did smell like him.
“Now this is a sight I would have slayed thousands for, Six Eyes” Sukuna said quieter than he meant to, greedily drinking in the sight before him as warmth raced through his body, “Me, fully clothed and you completely bare before me, totally at my mercy. I like it. You look like a captured whore, a prized consort, a coveted war prize.”
“Oh, Kuna. You and I both know that wouldn’t be nearly as interesting to you,” Gojo purred, and oh, how Sukuna wanted to cut that sharp, brattish tongue of his out and keep it forever. He wet his lips, excitement thrumming in his veins as he once again leaned in closer.
“Oh, sorcerer,” he crooned back, taking Gojo’s wrists in two of his hands and drawing them up beside his head, silently thrilled when the brat let him do it without protest or resistance, “The things I want to do to you.”
“No doubt they’re as feudal and uninspiring as you are.” Gojo was so sharp-tongued, and Sukuna loved it. No one else could speak to him with such defiance and hope to keep their head. “If you’re not going to entertain me, then I’ll have to ask that you let go of me”.
“Not a chance,” he laughed, “No, you’re not going anywhere, sorcerer. Someone has to teach you the consequences of your actions, daring to flaunt that tempting body before me”.
“I’ve yet to see any of these alleged consequences, oh King of Curses”. Gojo quirked an eyebrow, his eyes uncovered and staring intently at the curse, a taunt, and a challenge in one,” How exactly do you intend to make me regret it? Or are you all talk?”
“I’ve spent quite some time thinking about all the possible ways to punish you,” Sukuna said lowly, his voice filled with dark promise as he squeezed the sorcerer’s wrists, “One in particular that I intend to make true one day”.
“Oh?”
“Mmhm. One day, I will lay you, the strongest sorcerer of your generation, out in the blood-soaked fields of my destruction, and take you where everyone and anyone can see”. Sukuna promised, his voice heavy and low, “And if I won’t care at all whether you submit easily or you make me work for it. You’ll spread those long legs of yours for me either way.”
“Exhibitionism has never been a particular kink of mine if I’m being totally honest,” Gojo said with a wry twist of his lips, plush and a pretty pink, sending Sukuna’s mind wild with images of those lips wrapped around his cocks, picturing all the ways he could force this man to submit to him. “But I imagine you’d take more than a little pleasure in wearing me down until I give in to you.”
“You know me well, Six Eyes.” He leaned down to nip at the junction of his unmarked throat, earning a sharp intake of breath, “And you’re right, I would take incredible pleasure in overpowering you right there in the dirt, making you wail my name before the gods and the heavens, the sorcerers and curses, letting them all know that you are mine”.
“I feel like there might be a few things you could do before dragging me across the ground like a savage,” the sorcerer said amusedly, his eyes twinkling.
“But sorcerer, savage as I am, you make me barbaric.” He ground his hips down, reveling in the flushed warmth of the other man’s body, drunk on the feeling of having him completely bare beneath his own clothed form. Most definitely not for the first time, he wished he could keep the sorcerer like this all the time, naked and gazing up at him with those glowing, blue eyes and bared throat. Perhaps chained at the curse’s feet, where Sukuna could tangle his fingers in Gojo’s silky, white hair? Yes, that’d be nice. He’d like that, more than he’d honestly like to admit.
“Then I guess it really doesn’t take much, does it?” It seems that the sorcerer could never resist a snide comment. He was a brat, and Sukuna liked it very much. But right now, he could think of much better uses for that tongue of his. With a dark chuckle, he nudged Gojo’s long, slender legs apart and settled himself between them, gratified to feel that his sorcerer was more than a little hard, in spite of his words.
“You have a talent, sorcerer,” the curse smirked, noting the high flush on Gojo’s face that the man was trying so hard to hide,” And talent like that deserves my praise, and perhaps even a reward.”
“Your praise is second to none, King of Curses. You’ve caught my attention. What reward could you possibly be offering-” he cut off with a startled gasp as Sukuna abruptly dipped down and bit into his neck, laving his tongue around the abused patch of pale, white skin, moaning at the taste. Gojo’s head fell back as the curse pressed closer, curling around his smaller form as best he could without releasing his prize.
“No more of your blathering talk in here.” Sukuna hummed between licks and nips, catching the skin lightly with his incisors and shivering at the sharp noise it earned him. “I don’t share.”
“You’re a menace.” Gojo moaned, making a sound horribly close to a mewl as the curse rolled his hips, those sculpted thighs lifting to press against Sukuna's hips, and the curse desired more.
“Mmh, does that mean I torment you, always in the back of your mind?” he grinned widely and switched his attention to the other side of Gojo’s neck, laving and suckling like the sorcerer was the sweetest candy, “Do you think of me in the loneliness of your cold bed, or when you stand alone as the strongest amongst both your friends and enemies?” He didn’t give Gojo a chance to answer, releasing the other man’s wrists to drag his sharp nails down the sorcerer’s chiseled torso, grasping at his strong back as he felt his own cocks begin to fill. The curse felt his blood surge when the sorcerer pushed his slender, sensitive neck up into Sukuna’s waiting mouth, wanting more stimulation, more pleasure, more Sukuna.
“Ugh-” the sorcerer bit his lip in that way that drove the curse mad, his upper pair of hands coming up to caress Gojo’s head as his hips rocked, “N-not so barbaric tonight, huh?”
It’s you, Sukuna wanted to shout, his own head starting to become dizzy with desire and the dead, withered heart within his chest started to flutter to life, It’s you, it’s you, it’s all because of you.
Instead, the curse forced himself to pull away from that incredible neck to grin savagely down at Gojo, taking a moment to just look at his sorcerer. His sorcerer was flushed and disheveled, his normally clear, bright eyes were hazy, and his skin glistened from the wetness of the bath, the lamplight coating his face in a soft glow that Sukuna would have dared to call romantic if he was less of a monster. Those bewitching eyes of his were dazed from persistent pleasure, and in the light, they seemed almost celestial.
“These eyes of yours do things to me,” he said softly, reaching to trace his nails along the contour of Gojo’s cheekbones. The sorcerer rolled his eyes but still leaned into the touch anyway.
“They came after your time, old man.”
“No, I’m not talking about the Six Eyes. I’ve seen those before. I’m talking about your eyes. I’ve never seen anything like them before,” the curse whispered, continuing his careful tracing of his sorcerer’s face. In response, Gojo kept his eyes fixed on the curse, blinking up at him slowly, like a lazy cat.
“Kuna…”
“Satoru…”
Sukuna felt his expression softening despite himself, and he hurriedly fixed a smirk on his face, lest his moment of sappiness show in his gaze.
“Whatcha staring at?” Gojo grumbled sleepily, seemingly suspicious of the curse’s focused gaze as he let all four of his hands fall back to his side. Sukuna huffed quietly, dragging his upper set of hands down to lay a kiss on Gojo’s sternum, all of his eyes never leaving his sorcerer’s pretty face.
“You.” He answered simply, dragging all four of his hands down to grasp tightly at his hips. “My sorcerer. The strongest, the prettiest. Only you can bring this much pleasure. It is only natural for a king to look at his greatest conquest.”
“Be serious. As if.” The sorcerer scoffed, though the flush running until the white roots of his hair and the throb of his cock betrayed the effect the words had on him. His sorcerer had a wonderful little preference for sweet praise and words of possessiveness. Sukuna had learned that over time that Gojo Satoru was an undisclosed romantic underneath all the bravado and aloofness, giving small smiles to happy couples and reading cheesy romance mangas when he thought no one else was paying attention. The curse had a hunch that deep down, the sorcerer wanted someone to just take him for themselves and sweep him off his feet, despite his unmatched strength and power. And Sukuna was more than willing to oblige.
“Mine, mine, mine, all mine,” the curse sang, starting a trail of kisses down the other man’s chest, his toned stomach, and the curve of his hip. He felt more than heard Gojo’s breath catch, the other man holding his breath as he waited to see what Sukuna might do next. It was a heady feeling, holding all of Gojo Satoru’s attention, the force of all the power of his omniscient Six Eyes. He never wanted this to stop. Feeling impulsive and maybe a little permissive, driven by the scalding heat pooling in his gut, he indulged, pressing a soft kiss to the shaft of Gojo’s cock, gentle and reverent. He felt like he was performing an act of worship to the sorcerer, which was unusual for him. He was used to it being the other way around, although he couldn’t deny how good this made him feel.
“Su-sukuna,” Gojo breathed shakily, tensing up as if waiting for Sukuna to come to his senses and pull away. It was understandable, as Sukuna had always expressed disdain for weakness or vulnerability. But with the strongest sorcerer of his generation spread out beneath him, completely his for the taking, he found himself desperate to know what he tasted like. Whether the sorcerer tasted as good as he looked, as sweet as his lips did against his own. In this singular moment, he couldn’t imagine his desire for the act of taking Gojo Satoru apart to be a weakness.
“Understand how lucky you are, Gojo Satoru,” he murmured, nuzzling his face against the sorcerer’s cock almost playfully, “You are and will always be the only one in all the heavens or on earth that I would do this for. I’d be grateful to me if I were you.”
“Maybe, if you earn it.” the sorcerer’s words were irreverent, but his voice was higher than normal, his fists tightly clenched in the sheets under them, and oh gods, they were probably going to smell like Gojo later, like vanilla and the musk of Sukuna’s bath oils mixed in together. Perfect for Sukuna to press his face into and smell later.
“Kuna, my charming little curse, as nice as all this foreplay is, I’d very much like you to actually put that mouth of yours to good use. Both of them, actually.” If Gojo still had the capacity to be a brat, then Sukuna was clearly not doing a good enough job of unspooling him. Cradling his hips with his hands to hold them still and flashing a cocky grin, he swallowed Gojo down without any warning, his blood singing at the tensing of his smooth, milky thighs, and the rough sound of his moans, and he thought for sure that he could get addicted to this if he wasn’t careful. The sorcerer groaned his name as he started up a careful rhythm, his cock heavy and warm on his tongue, and any discomfort in his jaw was made insignificant by the sheer wanton sensuality of his sorcerer’s pleasure.
Oh gods above, if he could only keep his sorcerer, the strongest, like this all the time, helpless and wanting and unable to think of anything except Sukuna, and how he touched him, and all the pleasure he brought him. He couldn’t, though. He’d miss seeing him fight, he’d miss watching him obliterate special-grade curses like they were nothing, he’d miss seeing that angelic face covered with splatters of blood, wild-eyed and grinning madly, a wrathful protector of the righteous and the innocent, divergent from the Silla. Sukuna groaned at the very memory, and he reached down to palm himself to take the edge off, his other hands leaving the sorcerer’s hip to curl around Satoru’s quivering thigh. Satoru was a vision like this, flushed and writhing and so very savory, Sukuna finally understood the all-consuming madness that one can inspire in another.
But his sorcerer was the strongest, they were the strongest. And he’d prove it by making him cum hard enough to drive him insane, screaming Sukuna’s name from his mouth alone. And then while he lay dazed and recovering, Sukuna would slide into his overstimulated body and pound into him within an inch of his life, taking him again and again until his sorcerer couldn’t imagine ever leaving Sukuna’s bed, until his voice was raw from screaming the curse’s name until he begged to remain at Sukuna’s side forever, on his cocks, in his arms, any way Sukuna could or would have him.
Sukuna would ensure that nothing and no one could ever take this blessing, this piece of heaven from above, away from him; not sorcerers, curses, or gods. His sorcerer would never leave him, would never meekly allow himself to be ground down by age or by force as the weak do, and his sorcerer would never die or suffer the curse of decline.
“Gods, Kuna-” Satoru’s pleasure-cracked voice was a song, “My… ah…”
See my sorcerer, the curse thought madly, head swimming and all four eyes gleaming as Satoru gasped a broken sound that might have been his name, or might have just been his attempts to properly breathe. I can be a romantic too, as long as you know that you will always be mine alone to hold.