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Gojo grunts softly as he feels someone press against him in his sleep, an arm flung around his torso pulling him close. He’s surprised, the daze of sleep leaving him quickly, to feel the body already hard, unsubtly grinding against him, their breath quickening, hot pants tickling the back of his neck.
Whoever it was, they were having a particularly heated dream. Wait. He blinked, trying to remember. The only person he had ever allowed into his space, at least since high school like this was…
Gojo stays still, almost afraid to wake his new bed partner. His ex had always been affectionate, but he had never been forward. Not about the more intimate things they do together. Gojo loved how gentle, caring, and attentive he had been in the bedroom, but he couldn’t deny that sometimes he had wished he could be a little more passionate, a little less considerate. The arm that had been pulling Gojo flush slackened, the other man’s hand suddenly enclosing around his length. And it’s only then that he realizes for sure who it is grinding against him after all.
Sukuna’s hand is sure and a little rough, not bothering to make the usual slow, gentle, sweeping strokes that his ex normally did on his way toward the most sensitive part of him. Gojo sharply inhales as Sukuna palms him through the soft cotton of his boxers.
“I know you’re awake, sorcerer,” Sukuna murmurs, his voice so distinct and so different that, had Gojo not been aware of who he was from his actions, he is certain now. Gojo remains silent, still as Sukuna cups him, squeezing him once tightly, eliciting an intoxicating mix of pleasure and pain. “Everyone else is sleeping, they have no idea that I’m here.”
Sukuna chuckles, almost to himself, the sound going straight to Gojo’s groin, and he’s unsure if he’s ever been harder, has ever felt as pained or as wanton as this. “No one has to know, sorcerer.”
The curse grasps the elastic of his boxers, halting his movement, as he asks carefully, “I’ll stop here if you don’t want this. I’ll leave you alone”.
Gojo swallows, missing the feel and movement of Sukuna’s length against him, strangely wishing that the man hadn’t bothered to stop to ask if he was okay with this. If he is okay with doing this, with hiding it, with crossing the line he had once often pondered and had been tempted to toe.
“Just one night,” Sukuna whispers, lips pressing against his sensitive nape, then his shoulder. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”
Gojo doesn’t dare move, doesn’t dare answer. He can’t do this.
“I’m counting to three,” Sukuna’s voice is steady and calm, and Gojo wishes he had at least been more threatening, more forceful.
Much like his touches.
“One.”
“Two.”
Gojo wishes he had been a stronger man. But he had never been the selfless one. He had always been selfish.
“Three”.
Gojo turned to face the ancient sorcerer, expecting him to look smug that he had given up, and had chosen this. He’s surprised to see Sukuna staring at him with a solemn expression, as though searching for any doubt. It catches him off guard. Sukuna has never struck him as a curse who cared about anything but what he wanted. And Gojo had always suspected that Sukuna wanted him.
Gojo meets his gaze steadily, and for a few moments, they just stare at each other, as though sizing each other up, waiting to see who would break first.
And then, all of a sudden, together, they break down.
Gojo isn’t sure who had reached out first, or if they had reached out to each other at the same time. But he is not longer able to hide his desperation, his desire, his impatience. There was nobody in that bed with him. Now, instead, there is Sukuna. Cruel, calculating, forbidden King of Curses Sukuna.
Lips, teeth, and tongues move against each other in a dance, breaths quickly growing heavy and labored, hands probing and thorough as they moved over the hard planes and crevices of their bodies. Sukuna is swift in maneuvering Gojo to his back, making quick work of their clothing until there is nothing left between them but sweat and aching need.
They are both impossibly hard, but Sukuna does not make any move to prepare or enter him, instead moving his hips against his, length rubbing against length, in a movement Gojo had always wanted, but had never dared to ask his bedmates to try. He finds himself moving to a rhythm Sukuna had set, one that is surprisingly slow and deliberate, Sukuna swears, grasping Gojo’s hips as he begins to speed up, sweat and precum mixing and sliding with every glide.
Gojo realizes he’s moaning, making noises he’s never made before, voices mingling and blending with Sukuna’s own deeper utterances.
He’s never been loud, but it’s as if he’s given up all inhibitions and all control the moment he chose to cross the line with Sukuna. He feels both lost and incredibly grounded, as though their movements are all her has ever known.
Again, Sukuna swears, “Don’t you dare fucking cum yet. Not until I tell you. We’ve only just begun. You promised me this night, and I promise you you’ve never going to forget it”.
Gojo nods, unsure if he has the faculties to form words, and Sukuna smirks at that, “Good boy. Stay on your back. I want to see your face as I break you.”
When. Not if. Gojo almost believes him.
He inhales sharply as Sukuna releases his hips, moving down, pressing open-mouthed kisses against his chest, his torso, his navel, his thighs, and then, without preamble, swallowing him all down at once. Gojo sees stars, and his hands grip the sheets as Sukuna begins to move up and down his length, masterfully using tongue, teeth, suction, and pressure to pleasure him, fingers grazing at the sensitive skin between his legs. Gojo feels so close, but he fights to keep himself from cumming too soon, from peaking without permission.
As though sensing this, Sukuna hums in approval, the sound reverberating against him, and Sukuna has to press his hands down against his hips to keep him from arching too high. Sukuna releases him with a lewd pop, grinning as he wipes his hand across his lips. “Good. Very good boy.”
Sukuna then reaches for something on his bed stand, and Gojo’s already shallow breaths grow more labored as he realizes that they’re really doing this. Sukuna opens the bottle of lube and pours out a generous amount on his hand, then pumps himself, once and then twice, eyes never once leaving Gojo’s bright blue eyes. He smirks when he notices Gojo transfixed on his actions, but again grows serious as he sets the bottle aside and touches a finger to Gojo’s opening. “Last chance. I don’t want you to regret this.”
But Gojo’s already decided, reaching out to Sukuna. The man lets himself be pulled, and their lips meet in a kiss that is surprisingly tender and infinitely intimate, tongues sliding against each other.
Sukuna’s finger probes his opening, tracing the rim before slowly inserting a slippery digit. Gojo groans back into their kiss, hips bucking at the intrusion. Sukuna retracts and then slips back in again, adding a second finger this time, not once breaking from the kiss, swallowing the sounds Gojo makes as the curse readies him.
“Sukuna, Sukuna,” Gojo says under his breath, grasping as Sukuna continues to pump his fingers inside him, “I need you.”
“What was that?” Sukuna grins, dark pupils so dilated that his eyes look black, “I didn’t quite hear that.”
He furrows his brow. “I need you Sukuna,” Gojo says a bit louder, hand encircling the wrist of the arm Sukuna has anchored beside him on the bed. Sukuna leans down to lick a strip up his neck, tracing his jugular from the junction of his neck to just below his ear, nibbling his ear lobe, and finally growling out, “That’s what I thought you said.”
He enters Gojo in one swift movement, which is both delicious and a little painful, and Gojo wonders if this is what descending into sin must feel like, like an addicting mix of unspeakable pleasure and pain, like tasting hell. Sukuna draws himself up, hips continuing to thrust against him, and his hands grasp Gojo’s knees, pulling them up towards the sorcerer’s abdomen, using his legs as an anchor as he continues to thrust.
“That’s it, sorcerer… Satoru. Let yourself go,” Sukuna coaxes him, “Let me see you touch yourself. You can still do that, right? Let me watch you pleasure yourself as I pleasure you.”
Gojo is unable to deny him anything now, and he brings a hand to wrap around himself, pumping slowly and then faster, matching the curse’s own rhythm.
“Good, very good,” the curse purrs. Gojo lets out a strangled cry, so overwhelmed by all the sensations running through his body, and Sukuna leans down to kiss the tear that had leaked out of his eye, “You’ve been very, very good. Let go.”
As though his command is all he needed to finally release, Gojo orgasms, so hard and so suddenly that his vision whites out for a moment, and he is unsure if he had screamed or simply moaned. He can feel Sukuna peaking at the sight of him, staying inside, murmuring praises as Gojo comes down from his high.
“Perfect,” one side of Sukuna’s lip turns up, looking satisfied and pleased. “Like I always knew you would be”.
Finally, Sukuna carefully pulls out, wiping up the mess along the sorcerer’s legs and in between his thighs, kissing him with surprising tenderness. “Our little secret. Until next time”.