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Suguru wakes slowly, warmly, head lolling into the touch of the feather-light kisses pressed against his forehead. He hums, reaching up, fingers fumbling against soft locks of hair and the curve of an ear. Laughter tickles his fingertips. Suguru smiles. “G’morning.” He sighs, content and comfortable.
“Took you long enough to wake up.” Satoru snips, complaint negated by the smile that shines through his voice, like the sun breaking through the clouds after a storm. His hands run reverently over either side of Suguru’s face. He leans down, pushing his lips against Suguru’s forehead, his cheek, his eyelids and his lips, persistent and impatient, heedless to the laughter he receives as his breath tickles his skin. “I’ve been up forever.”
“Have you now?” Suguru hums, opening his eyes. Satoru rolls his own at the sight, laid atop Suguru’s chest, white hair falling into his face and sleep still softening the edges of his body. Suguru reaches out, pushing his hair up, clearing his face. Parting the clouds to reveal the sky, bright and blue and beautiful. Satoru leans into his touch, nuzzling into Suguru’s palm. Suguru bites back a grin, fighting the urge to scratch behind Satoru’s ears like a kitten. “I hope you’ve spent your morning productively.”
“Cleaned my ass.” Satoru hums. Suguru snorts, feeling plush lips stretch into a smile against his palm. “Brushed my teeth.”
“Breakfast?”
“No I was waiting for you to wake up so we could fuck and then eat.” His voice is stark and patronizing, like Suguru’s the fool for assuming otherwise. He nips at the inside of Suguru’s wrist, murmuring against the skin, “C’mon Suguru, get with the program.”
“Of course, my apologies.” Suguru snarks back. He pulls his hand out of Satoru’s grasp, reaching out and grabbing the curve of his hips and yanking him up onto his chest. Satoru yelps but doesn’t fight it, settling in place, shivering as Suguru’s nails dig into the curve of his ass, spreading him open, pressing his fingers against Satoru’s entrance. “Wow you weren’t kidding.” Suguru muses, feeling it give beneath his fingers, ignoring the gasping groan from above him.
“I’m always serious when it comes to my ass.” Satoru’s joke is breathless and helpless, punctuated by shivers and the subtle rolling of his hips as he presses back into Suguru’s searching fingers. “C’mon, fuck, please.”
Suguru only replies with an absent-minded hum, reaching up to kiss the tip of Satoru’s cock, snickering when he feels a hand swat at his head, accompanied by a stuttering gasp. “Needy.” He admonishes, taking the head into his mouth and gently working a second finger into Satoru’s hole. He curls them, pressing and prying, relaxing his throat as Satoru bucks his hips into his mouth with a cry that’s just as pleased as it is pissed.
“I have been waiting thirty goddamn minutes,” Satoru huffs, stuttering around whimpers that break through his words like waves against the shore. Suguru presses his smile into the dip of Satoru’s hip. “You absolute bastard.”
“Fucker.” Suguru chides in that same tone, all too fond and all too smitten. He grazes his teeth against Satoru’s skin, feeling his hips twitch as Suguru’s fingers slide out from him. “Roll over.”
“Woof.” Satoru drily replies, complying. He tumbles to the side, off of Suguru and onto his back, white hair skewed around his face and almost glowing in the morning rays of the sun. He grins when Suguru rises to his knees, making grabby hands up at him as Suguru shifts over. “Let me grab your tits.”
“Stop calling them tits.” Suguru rolls his eyes, shuffling between Satoru’s legs, but he doesn’t bat Satoru’s hands away when he grabs his pecs and squeezes. A shiver darts down Suguru’s spine like lightning, the calloused pads of Satoru’s fingertips dragging over his nipple, making pleasure curl in his gut, low and warm. His hands tremble as he reaches to the nightstand for the lube. “Condom?”
“We don’t have anything today, right?” Satoru asks, eyes trained on Suguru’s chest.
“You said something about wanting to see a m-movie.” Suguru manages, stuttering when Satoru reaches up, pressing his lips to Suguru’s chest. “But we didn’t make any p-plans yet, ah—”
“Raw me babe.”
“Jesus Christ.” Suguru groans, shoving at Satoru’s head and pushing him back down into the pillow. Satoru only laughs, falling back against the pillows and bringing his legs up to wrap around Suguru’s hips, pink lips caught between his teeth as his smile turns his cheeks pink.
“You love me.” He coos, digging his heels into the small of Suguru’s back.
Suguru’s traitorous heart flutters in his chest. “Unfortunately.” He sighs, guiding his cock to Satoru’s entrance and pushing in.
They inhale almost in tandem, short and sharp breaths which burst out of their lungs in breathless and giddy laughter. It’s good, so fucking good, and it takes every bit of willpower he can muster to keep himself from driving his hips home. He drops his hands to either side of Satoru’s head, bracing himself against the onslaught of pleasure, of pure unforgiving pleasure, closing his eyes and taking in another breath.
He can feel Satoru’s breath against his skin, like this. Shaky and shallow, small noises catching in his throat with every bit of movement. “God.” He gasps. “Your stupid cock is so big.”
“Oh yeah, talk dirty to me baby.” Suguru fires back on instinct, grinding out the words through gritted teeth. He bottoms out, hips pressing flush against the curve of Satoru’s ass. For a moment they just stay there, trembling in tandem, burning together.
Suguru inhales, and then exhales, and then he opens his eyes.
Beneath him, Satoru’s head tips back, the elegant column of his neck exposed, the bruises and bite-marks on full display. He’s covered in them, a patchwork quilt of purpling bruises and bright red rings of teeth, skin slowly mottled and marred over the past few days he’s spent under Suguru’s teeth. Suguru runs his thumb up a particularly dark patch, skirting around the edge of a pale area of unblemished skin. Satoru’s eyelids flutter at the touch, long white lashes parting to reveal eyes as clear as water, as blue as the sky above.
Satoru blinks again, slow and sluggish, before his eyes crinkle and sparkle with a smile that spreads slowly across his face. Sweet and slow like honey, cheeks the same shade of pink as his kiss blown lips. “C’mon Suguru.” He murmurs, slow and reverent. He brings his hand up to cup Suguru’s jaw, thumb running across his cheek with something akin to devotion. “Put your back into it.”
His legs wrap around the curve of Suguru’s hips and tighten, pulling them closer, dragging matching gasps from their lips. Suguru sighs, his heart full and his face flushed and his cock so incredibly hard. “Greedy.” He grins, reaching over Satoru’s head for the hair ties they keep on the shelf above their bed. “You’re absolutely insatiable.”
Satoru whistles, low and appreciating, his hand mapping the expanse of Suguru’s chest. “You salacious little slut.” He grins, delighted. “You could’ve tied your hair up before we started but no, you had to show off for yo—ah!”
Suguru preens, triumphant. “What was that? I couldn’t understand you.” He snickers, rocking his hips in slow circles. Satoru opens his mouth, glaring, managing a single syllable before Suguru fucks into him hard. Suguru grins. “Sorry, I didn’t catch that.”
“Suguru,” Satoru says threateningly, hand gripping the back of Suguru’s neck with force, dragging him down, pressing their sweaty foreheads together. His eyes are glassy with tears he barely seems to notice, ripples in a lake that Suguru’s set to drown in. “Suguru, you bastard move—“
Suguru smiles, and kisses him, and complies. Noses brushing, breaths hot against each other’s face, he moves, fucking into Satoru mercilessly. He watches blue eyes blow wide, feels the helpless gasps against his neck, sensations vivid and vibrant and overwhelming. Gone is the feeling of damp sheets sticking to his knees, sweaty hair plastered to his forehead, the strain in his toes as he digs them into the mattress. It’s just Satoru, Gojo fucking Satoru, wrapped around him and piercing through him. He chants it like prayer, like the nails digging into his back are blessings, like this is an act of reverence.
He loses himself there, pressed against Satoru’s body, close enough to burn. He bites Satoru’s lip, pushing his moans into his slick mouth, swallowing the sounds he receives in turn. “Wish you could see yourself.” He nips Satoru’s jaw, stuttering breaths thinning out every word. “Look at you, fucking hell.”
“Full l-length mirror.” Satoru grins. His lips brush Suguru’s forehead. “Ordered it last week, fuck, shit.”
Suguru groans, low and long. “I love you so much.” He kisses Satoru’s face, fervent and frantic, orgasm coiling in his gut, low and heavy and hot.
Satoru makes a noise that’s high and delighted, somewhere between a whimper and a laugh. “I know.” He says. His words are starting to slur. A trembling hand reaches up, brushing the hair out of Suguru’s face. He says, low and tender, rapture breaking through the pleasure shaking his voice raw, “When it g-gets here, ‘m — ngh — gonna fuck y-you ‘gainst it ‘til you cry.”
It hits Suguru like a tidal wave, the muscles in his back tightening and his toes curling and his hips slamming to a stop against Satoru’s ass as he empties himself deep. Pleasure rushes through him, lighting his nerves aflame, forcing a hoarse shout out from between his lips. It’s mind-numbing, blinding, all consuming. He barely has the presence of mind to grind his hips into Satoru’s prostate, to bring his hand down and work at Satoru’s cock to bring him to orgasm.
He opens his eyes just in time to catch it, Satoru’s eyes rolling back and his mouth dropping open, his back arching off of the bed as his hands drop down to grasp the sheets like they’re a lifeline. He’s silent, breath caught in his lungs, shivers wracking his form, like his body is set to shatter.
Suguru wraps his arms around his frame, catching him as he collapses back into the sheets, burying his face into Satoru’s neck and closing his eyes. They melt, together, settling like the sea after a storm.
Satoru’s breath tickles Suguru’s ear. “You’re rubbing cum on my back.” He whispers, words low and liquid, molten like gold.
“My cum is in your ass.” Suguru grumbles back, flinching when Satoru clenches around him spitefully. “Fuck, ‘m sensitive.”
Satoru jeers but lets Suguru slip out from him, making a quiet noise of disgust when he does. “Why’d I tell you to rawdog me.” He mutters, voice steeped with regret. “These sheets are going to be so gross.”
“You made the grave and told me to jizz in it.” Suguru snarks back, settling by Satoru’s side and curling into him. He’s shoved off without hesitation. “Aw, no, babe—”
“Repent.” Satoru shoves at him again. Suguru shoves back, but his wrists are caught in Satoru’s unforgiving grip as lips are pressed into the hollow of his neck and Suguru barely has time to be confused before a fat, wet, raspberry is being blown against his skin, making him shriek and try and writhe away.
“Satoru!” He yelps, straining against the vice grip he’s caught in. His legs kick out, laughing helplessly and hysterically. “Noooooo—”
“You sleep in, you edge me, you bully me.” Every offence is punctuated by a raspberry, Satoru relentless in his assault, manhandling Suguru until they’re facing each other, hands caught between their chests and legs intertwined. He pulls back, eyes dancing with laughter, a blue brighter than anything Suguru could imagine. “You’re horrible.”
Suguru can’t help the smile that spreads across his face, slow and certain like the morning sun. “You love me.” He says, too soft and too sincere and completely lovestruck, adoration soaking through the words.
Satoru shifts his grip, intertwining their fingers. The soft click of metal makes them startle, and then snicker, dumb and disbelieving. “Unfortunately.” Satoru murmurs, the cold metal of his wedding band biting into the webbing between Suguru’s fingers. He barely notices the chill, what with his heart fit to burst, what with the love of his life across from him, leaning in for a kiss that makes Suguru’s toes curl in the sheets.
The sun creeps higher into the sky, and neither of them are the wiser.