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Time moves strangely.
Satoru doesn't know how long he's been locked away inside the prison realm. It could have been months, maybe even years. The feeling of his cursed energy does not reach him here. Hunger and thirst have long been forgotten. He's lost his sense of reality, falling in and out of dreams that feel too real, yet not real enough to allow an escape from the void of time.
When he's awake, he sits alone in a small room. It's completely bare with no windows or doors. Only a small bed in the corner where he spends all his time withering away in boredom, staring at the ceiling.
When he's asleep, all his dreams run like syrup, clot like blood. Colors and faces fade from his memory, disfigured beyond recognition.
Except one.
Suguru's face is carved like stone in his mind. It doesn't matter how much time tries to chip away at it, it'll remain indefinitely.
He sees him there, back at Jujutsu High. Precious memories of being in his room, Suguru beside him, as they fill their free time with the comfort of each other's presence. Satoru prefers to be there, in those moments. It's the only thing keeping him sane.
He's dreaming again, but this one feels different. Instead of the safe comfort of his soft sheets at home, he feels the scratchy fabric of his prison blanket against him. He knows it's a dream though, because in front of him stands Suguru in all his glory. Like an Angel sent just for him.
“Satoru”
His breath hitches at the soft purr of his voice.
“Suguru.” He instinctively reaches out for him, desperate for his touch.
Moving closer, Suguru intertwines their fingers together. It's dark in the room, almost imperceptible. But Satoru would know his touch blind. Know his scent, his shape, the steady sound of his breathing. It doesn't matter how many years pass or how long he withers away trapped in this place. The only thing his mind will cling to forever is Suguru Getou.
“I miss you. I think about you everyday.” Satoru says as he gazes up into Suguru's beautiful eyes. He squeezes his hand tighter, afraid that if he lets go it'll all disappear again.
His hand is warm. When Satoru rubs his thumb over his wrist he thinks he might even feel a pulse, but he knows better than to dwell on it. It doesn't mean anything, after all. This is just his mind supplying him with what he needs to avoid going completely insane.
“I miss you, too. More than anything.” Suguru leans down and kisses him softly.
Stunned, Satoru sucks in a sharp breath. It's not uncommon for him to have dreams like this. He's had them countless times since he was a teenager. However, none have felt this incredibly real. Suguru's lips are as soft as he always imagined they would be. Satoru sinks deeper into the kiss, eagerly pulling him closer.
Climbing on top of him, Suguru pins Satoru's hands tightly above his head. His heart starts to race as heat pools in his lower stomach.
Suguru moves from his lips to his neck, devouring him with open mouthed kisses. It feels amazing. Satoru's eyes flutter closed as he arches into the touch, seeking more. Needing more.
Suddenly, Suguru sinks his teeth into his neck to a point just beyond any type of pleasure. Satoru hisses in pain and tries to pull away, but Suguru cages him in and softly circles his tongue around the wound. He grinds his hips down into Satoru. He can feel the weight of Suguru's hard length as it rubs against his own. The action has him letting out a breathy moan and melting back into his touch.
This is new, this behavior. It almost doesn't feel like Suguru at all. These slight moments of aggression. Satoru doesn't really know if he likes it, but when it comes to Suguru, he'd let him do almost anything to him.
Satoru pulls his wrists free from Suguru's hold to run his fingers up into his dark hair. It falls, encircling around them like a halo. It's so long and soft; he's always loved his hair. Satoru twirls a strand around his finger and brings it down to rub against his cheek.
He desperately wants him back. Wants him here, really here. Wants to tell him everything he was too scared to admit when he was alive. How he loved him. Loved him so much it has haunted him for 10 years. Choosing to ignore him and let him do what he wants, instead of tracking him down and stopping him like he was supposed to.
It didn't matter in the end though, he still died by his hand. His best friend, his one and only, forever cursed to live like a ghost haunting his mind.
Suguru surges down to kiss him again. Satoru cups his face, running his fingers across every inch of skin, searing the feeling of it into his memory.
His fingers rub against something strange on his forehead, something that shouldn't be there. Satoru pulls back and opens his eyes, finally allowing them to fully adjust in the dark, to gaze upon the entirety of Suguru's face.
It's him but there's something off about him. Something different in his violet eyes he's never seen before, a sharpness that makes him feel uneasy.
Moving his eyes higher, he sees the line of grotesque stitches that run across his forehead and suddenly the illusion shatters.
Satoru is overcome with memories.
Arriving in Shibuya to see the veil that had been lowered over the city, trapping thousands of people inside. The subway, where the curse user responsible was hiding. The fight that broke out after. Suguru…
No, not Suguru.
Kenjaku.
Satoru feels sick. He tries to push Kenjaku off him but he just grips him tighter. Detached amusement etches into Suguru's porcelain face as he yanks Satoru's shirt up over his head. His heart stops cold in his chest when Kenjaku leans forward, kissing a trail down his body.
Satoru starts to panic. “Get off me!”
Infinity doesn't work here. The only way he can prevent Kenjaku from touching him is to fight back.
“It's okay, Satoru. I'm gonna make you feel better. You've been so lonely here, haven't you?” He starts to unbutton his pants.
Satoru pulls his leg back and kicks him in the chest, sending him stumbling off the bed. Kenjaku quickly catches himself and turns his soulless eyes on Satoru.
“Now why did you go and do something like that?”
Despite not having access to his cursed energy, Satoru is still fast on his feet. He jumps up, readying his stance for an attack.
Kenjaku rushes him, throwing a fist towards Satoru. He jerks to the left, successfully dodging it, then throws his own in turn.
Being able to always rely on his Infinity caused him to be more laid back while training at Jujutsu High, allowing Suguru to become the better hand to hand fighter. It still holds true when Kenjaku easily evades his counterattack and lands a hard punch into his face, knocking him back.
Satoru falls onto the bed, clutching his nose. He can feel blood starting to drip all over his face and down his chest. He pulls his hands away and looks down at them. The sight makes him stop dead in his tracks. In the time since watching Suguru die, Satoru has been in many battles and seen lots of blood. So why is it affecting him like this now?
He feels dizzy, overwhelmed. Suddenly, the overbearing stench of metallic is surrounding him. He's back to that place, to that moment, looking down at Suguru as he's slumped against the wall, chest mangled and disfigured. He's no longer bleeding, but blood stains everything. His clothes, the stone floor, Satoru's hands…
He can't get it off. It won't come off. Why won't it come off?
Satoru desperately scrubs his hands against his pants, needing to get Suguru's blood off him. He falls to the floor, legs too shaky to stand on. When he looks back up he's left feeling deeply nauseous from what he sees. This can't be Suguru in front of him. It's all wrong. This unsettling sight couldn't have been a human. He's unrecognizable. Suguru's skin doesn't look like skin anymore. It's incredibly pale and waxy, tinted blue around his lips. He's so still.
Satoru crawls forward, reaching a hand out to cradle his face. It's icy cold to the touch, there's no life in him. Nothing at all. He's gone…
He's gone. He's gone. He's gone.
Satoru can't breathe. He can't think. A putrid odor has started to mix with the smell of dried blood. How long has he been sitting here? Staring at the Shattered vessel of his best friend? What does he do now? How does he go on living after what he's done? What he had to do.
Maybe he could have saved him. If he was just a little faster. If he'd gotten here sooner. If he fought harder. Maybe everything could have ended up okay. He could have convinced Suguru to stop, to change. Maybe-
“Satoru”
He jumps at the sound of his name. As he blinks, the grotesque memory begins to fade and he's right back in his prison.
Kenjaku makes his way over to him on the bed. Before Satoru can scramble away, skeleton hands appear out of the headboard, clasping his wrists and holding him down against the mattress.
Suguru straddles him and breathes out a dark laugh. “Bad boys who don't obey me won't be treated nicely.”
“Fuck you.” Satoru spits.
Suguru wraps his hands around his neck, and starts to squeeze as hard as he can. Satoru thrashes trying to get away, but it's no use as he squeezes impossibly tighter, smashing his throat and cutting him off from any oxygen.
Kenjaku stares down into Satoru's eyes with an unwavering, dark viciousness. Gaze devoid of even the smallest fleck of the Suguru that he had once known.
“You're the strongest. A god among men. and here I have you, completely at my mercy.” Kenjaku's eyes flash with a sick fascination.
With his throat restricted and blood clogging his nose, Satoru's vision begins to darken and blur. Before he can completely lose consciousness, Kenjaku finally lets go.
Satoru sucks in a sharp breath, desperate for air. He chokes as he struggles to breathe. The piercing pain in his neck is telling enough that he'll be covered in an ugly, dark bruise come morning.
“Don't you miss me, Satoru?” Kenjaku gently strokes his cheek, easily falling back into the roll of his dead friend. Voice soft and sweet, like he loves him, even when choking him.
Satoru tries to respond casually, attempting to hide his uncontrolled breathing and pounding heart rate. His body still trembling from being held down so tightly.
“I don't give a shit about you. You're just some imposter who stole Suguru's body.” His voice comes out scratchy and raw.
Kenjaku laughs. The sound had once been a lifeline to him. It now was nothing more than a source of agony. Hearing it from the lips of a man who looked and sounded like his best friend but wore a revolting expression that was so ill fitting on his face it could never be him. Suguru would never look at him like this.
“It's so endearing how far you've fallen. And to think you were untouchable before.”
Satoru scoffs, avoiding his gaze.
Kenjaku strips off his shirt and tosses it aside. Staring down at Satoru in hunger, he runs his palms up his thighs. Satoru tries to hide how much it makes his heart race.
It may be Suguru's rough hands finally touching him, but it's not him who is controlling them.
Kenjaku hooks his fingers into Satoru's pants, pulling them down along with his underwear, leaving him completely bare and on display. He tries to cross his legs and hide his half hard cock but Kenjaku grips his thighs, holding them still.
“I have access to all of Getou's memories, you know. I've seen everything he's seen, everything he's felt. All his thoughts…The way he thought about you in particular. He wanted you. Wanted nothing more than to touch you, to own you, to openly love you. How pitiful.”
Satoru grits his teeth. “Don’t talk about him. You don't know anything about him.”
Kenjaku teasingly runs his finger up Satoru's inner thigh. His body stirs in anticipation of the touch he's spent a decade long yearning for. It's mortifying how his body craves it.
“Dont touch me.” He tries to fill his words with disgust, but they just come out breathy and weak.
Kenjaku wraps his fingers around Satoru's cock and slowly pumps up and down. Satoru lets out a startled whimper at the stimulation. His dick immediately becomes fully erect, filling up Suguru's hand.
Satoru's head falls back in pleasure as Suguru leans down, swiping his tongue across the tip of his cock. He sucks the head into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue and jerks him off faster. Satoru can feel himself getting closer and closer to his release.
“Stop it.. Stop..”
A slight waver has slipped into his voice, no longer able to fully control his overwhelming panic. It's too much...It's not enough.
Satoru can't help but moan from Suguru's touch.
No… Kenjaku's touch.
Suguru isn't here.
He's dead.
Phantom limbs of the man he once loved graze him. He can reach out and touch him but he isn't really there.
Tears start to stream down Satoru's face as he reaches his climax and spills out all over Kenjaku's hand. Every drop that surges from him feels like a betrayal of his body. His mind is a jumbled mess, senses completely overwhelmed as he lay limp against the bed.
Kenjaku pushes Satoru's legs up against his chest. He tries to wiggle away but his fight has mostly died in light of what he's allowed this curse to do to him already. He feels completely disconnected from his body. He tries to move his legs and it almost feels like he's moving them but he watches as they stay completely still in the position they were placed in. He might not even believe this body belonged to him at all if it wasn't for the sensations of Kenjaku's warm touch across his skin. The shame has started to consume him, there's no escaping it now.
Kenjaku takes Satoru's cum and smears it around his exposed hole, teasing him with his finger. He tenses up at the prodding but can do nothing as Kenjaku shoves it all the way inside. The finger slipping inside of him feels like fingers going down his throat.
Satoru cries out, nauseous from the pain and his legs reflexively kick out to get away. Kenjaku digs his nails into Satoru's soft thighs, drawing blood.
“Hold still, Satoru. Don't you want him? Don't you want to feel him deep inside you?” His voice comes out sinister, sending a chill down Satoru's spine.
But a starving dog will always feed.
Satoru slowly lifts his legs back up to his chest. Kenjaku rewards his cooperation by moving his fingers more gently. By the time he adds a second finger, Satoru is spreading his legs wider and sinking into it.
“Look at you, eagerly opening up for me. You want me to fuck you, dont you?”
Satoru moans and rolls his hips, pushing Suguru's fingers deeper inside him.
“Even knowing what I am, your body still welcomes me. It's kind of pathetic, how strong your attachment is to a man who had forsaken you.”
“Stop talking. You're really fucking annoying.”
Satoru glares up at him, watching as Kenjaku keeps one hand moving inside him while the other pulls his own pants down, freeing himself. He smiles right back at Satoru and lazily strokes his throbbing cock.
Satoru knows he should look away, that it's a betrayal, an invasion of Suguru's privacy. An intimate act he has no right to. But he can't stop staring. Suguru's dick is flushed and dripping, leaking for him. But whose desire was it really? Kenjaku’s or Getou’s? Was Kenjaku just a sick and twisted curse who gets off on rape, regardless of who it is? Or was Suguru's lingering memories and feelings playing a part in pushing him in his direction? Did Suguru desire him? Did this fuel Kenjaku's desire?
Kenjaku's face twists up in an eerie smirk. “You can pretend like you hate this, but I can see it in your eyes that you want me.”
He curls his fingers inside Satoru, finding his sweet spot, and rubs against it over and over.
Unbidden, Loud moans fall from his lips. He's so deeply ashamed. Ashamed at how much he likes this, how much he doesn't want him to stop. He's starting to lose himself in the pleasure when Kenjaku starts speaking again, pulling him back to reality.
“You know this is all your fault. You practically gifted Suguru Getou to me. He was your greatest friend in the whole world. The love of your life I bet, and he left you. 10 years you waited around for him. When he finally showed up, it wasn't for you, no, it was just to steal another curse. And what did you do? You killed him. All his dreams in life were motivated from the desire to protect you. To protect the others you cared about. He wanted to make the world a better place for you all to live in. Yet you killed him. Poor Gojo, overcome with the grief from what you'd done, you couldn't even dispose of him properly. You left him exposed and vulnerable. It's your fault he's now mine.” he coos softly.
Tears slip from Satoru's eyes, carving burning tracks down his face. When Kenjaku flips him onto his stomach it feels like mercy. Not having to watch an intruder use his dead best friends body to fuck him. Maybe… maybe he could just close his eyes and pretend it was real. Just for a second. Just to not feel the pain of this moment. He doesn't want to feel anything anymore.
Kenjaku lines himself up and without warning, shoves deep inside him with no regard to the pain it causes Satoru.
He buries his face into the pillow in an attempt to quiet his cries. In moments of longing he has fingered himself to the thought of Suguru being inside him, what it would feel like to be full of him. But fingers could not have prepared him for this. The stretch is agonizing. Suguru's a lot bigger than he would have expected him to be. He hits deep, each stroke easily rubbing against that spot that makes his eyes roll back. Satoru's mouth falls open from the sensations. Equal moments of pleasure and pain shooting through his body in tandem.
It’s difficult to stay in the illusion of being with Suguru with how hard Kenjaku fucks into him. His hands grip his hips, pushing so deep into his guts Satoru is struggling to breathe. Uncontrollable blabbering moans spill from his mouth as his drool, tears, and blood soak the pillow.
He feels like a disgusting whore, spreading his legs for a monster just to fill the endless void inside him. He wants to scream and shout and lash out at any and everything. Instead, he opens himself up more, aching for his touch. He doesn't want to feel this emptiness from destroying everything he cherished and loved most. A tragedy committed by his own hands. He just wants it all to go away.
“You take me so good, Satoru. I fit so perfectly inside you, like I was meant to be here.”
Kenjaku pulls Satoru up so they are chest to back and wraps his arms tightly around him.
“You love this don't you? My sweet Satoru… you're so perfect.”
Satoru's head falls back against Suguru as he whimpers from the praise. It was Suguru's soft voice purring in his ear. It was Suguru's rough hands exploring his body, each touch burning hot against his skin like a brand. It was Suguru's naked chest pressed against him, as he breathed into his neck, sending shivers down his spine. It was Suguru's cock buried deep inside him, sending intoxicating pain and pleasure through him. But it wasn't Suguru…
He squeezes his eyes shut, praying and pleading as the tears continue to fall, soaking his face. “I'm sorry Suguru… Please, please forgive me,” he whispers.
He tries not to care. He tries to ignore the faint scratches from the stitches across Kenjaku's head as they graze the back of his neck with each thrust. He moans softly, rocking his hips back harder into Kenjaku's punishing touch.
When he sinks his teeth into Satoru's flesh, it feels like he's infecting him with whatever sickness lives inside him.
Kenjaku pulls away to grab him by the back of the neck and shove him down, smashing his face into the bed.
He deserves this, he thinks. He deserves to be fucked like this. No room to breathe as Kenjaku sets a brutal pace. His long fingers wrapping around his neck, squeezing hard enough to hurt, but not enough to risk losing consciousness. His other hand digs into the flesh of his ass, spreading him open as wide as he can to sink even deeper.
This may just be the death of him, but he can't seem to pull away.
Hold me please, He prays. Hold me till I'm cold and blue, too.
He's not scared of death. How could he be? Death is already all over him.
Satoru bites down on the pillow as he feels himself getting closer to the edge. His legs quiver as Kenjaku's thrusts get sloppier.
“Come from my dick, baby. I want to feel it.”
The breathy, lust filled words out of Suguru's mouth is the last push he needs. He spills out all over the sheets, head thrown back in humiliating ecstasy.
“That’s it, good boy. Fuck…”
Satoru is suddenly being filled up with Suguru's warm cum. He fucks it as deep into him as he can and holds him still as he catches his breath, dick pulsing inside him.
Kenjaku pulls out and shoves him away when he's done. Tossing him aside like he's less than nothing. Satoru feels like a stuffed toy, its guts ripped out and strewn all over the room.
Satoru curls up into a ball, clutching his tear and blood stained pillow to his chest. He's never felt so empty inside. He's disgusting for what he's done. How can he live with himself after this? It's too much, its-
Satoru hurries to the side of the bed, unable to hold back the vomit as it spills out onto the floor. When it finally stops he's left dry heaving, airways struggling to open up. His body is shaking uncontrollably and he can no longer hold himself up. He stumbles forward and falls against the floor.
“That was fun. Maybe I'll come back and see you again. Would you like that?”
The threatening amusement in his tone makes Satoru's stomach start to roll again.
“I’m going to kill you one day.” Satoru swears, low and dangerous.
“You think so?”
“Yes.” He uses the last of his strength to push himself up and stare down Kenjaku. “And I'm taking his body back.”
Kenjaku just smiles at him before turning and disappearing out of the room.
Satoru falls back down into his mess. Looking down at his body he can see it's covered in painful markings. A love story left on his body by someone else's hands.
His legs shake as he slowly spreads his thighs. White and red fluid drips from between his legs, smearing all over him.
There's no more tears left to cry. He's left feeling utterly numb and alone. Ruined and repulsed with himself.
Love is the most twisted curse of all. Now he will spend eternity paying for it.