⋆˚ ☯︎ . ｡ 𝒪𝓃𝓁𝓎 𝒴𝑜𝓊 ｡ . ☯︎ ⋆˚
Pairing — Nerd!Gojo Satoru x Emo!Geto Suguru
Synopsis — Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto get paired together for a theology project, which quickly devolves into Suguru testing the faith that had been drilled into Gojo since the moment he’d been born.
tags/cw — religious imagery, anal sex, dubious consent, goge, rimming, nipple play, satosugu
"Gojo Satoru, and—" The Intro to Theology professor announced, trailing off as he rummaged through a hat full of names, hunting for Gojo's randomly assigned partner.
Gojo sighed deeply. He would much rather do this assignment by himself. Anyone he was paired with would only drag him down.
"—Suguru Geto!" His teacher decides, pulling out the lucky slip.
Gojo flits his eyes around the room, but quickly turns his attention back to the front of the classroom, realizing he didn't know who he was looking for. It didn't really matter, anyway. Whoever this Suguru Geto was, he truly was lucky. Gojo would just do the entire assignment for him, tell him he needn't do anything. What college student wouldn't be happy to have their entire project done for them?
Satoru Gojo was 19, in his first year, second semester of college, his first time free of his overbearing family. Still, he had a reputation to uphold, one of cleanliness and precision, so he wore the same copy and paste outfit every day, no matter the weather, different variations of black or deep blue jeans, a nice sweater, and a tie tucked neatly beneath it. Gojo also donned thick glasses for his terrible vision, lined with a sleek black frame.
His family, the Gojo clan, are a prominent religious group in his hometown, and he was expected to become head of the clan after graduating with his degree in Theology, and completing a pilgrimage of service (yes, a fucking pilgrimage), which was essentially a glorified mission trip.
He tuned back into the professor’s rambling, cursing under his breath when he realized that he had stopped listing names and had moved onto lecture material.
He promised himself he'd go back and review what he missed later, but he knew he wouldn't. There was no need. None of this material challenged Gojo, it was all so stupidly easy. It was the same in highschool, middle school, elementary, as he'd been homeschooled all his life, his family cutting out parts of his curriculum that they found unnecessary including but not limited to biology, chemistry and large chunks of history. It was for this reason that he found himself fascinated with history books, reading them incessantly at any moment he was allowed, learning the truth of what had actually happened in the past, not the twisted and revised versions his family fed him.
Class passed slowly as it always did, and when it finally ended, he sat patiently at his desk watching the students file out, waiting to approach his professor and ask for his partners email.
Instead, he was surprised when someone suddenly seated themselves in the chair next to him, up in the front row. Class was over, what was this guy doing—
"Suguru Geto," The boy announced, smiling politely at Gojo.
Oh, brother. He'd seen the guy around class before, had actively turned his attention away. It was better not to get involved with his type. Or anyone at all, for that matter.
If his parents knew what college was like now, they would never have allowed him here. In their day, theology had been the study of pure devotion, pious students surrendering themselves to practice and prayer. Now it had mostly devolved into a discipline for artsy, philosophical types who studied religion not because they believed, but because the belief itself, the spectacle of it, and the morality tangled inside it, fascinated them.
It was obvious that Suguru Geto was one of these type.
He had midnight black hair, cascading down his shoulders, half of it pulled back into a messy topknot. He wore a black band tee that clung irritatingly to his well built body, (not that Gojo noticed) and had a black hoop on the left of his bottom lip. Additionally, he adorned an eyebrow piercing, thick black gauges in his lobes, followed by rows of piercings trailing up the rest of his ear.
Did Gojo actually just think that? Good God.
This just reinforced the idea that Gojo could not be caught dead with this man. His family would pluck him straight from college if they knew.
"Satoru Gojo." He said back, simply.
"I know." Geto smiled again, this time with teeth.
Gojo had no clue what to say from here. He had never been a good conversationalist, having been homeschooled his whole life. It didn't help that this man was so beautiful that he might have been a woman, and fuck, were his cheeks warming up?
What in Gods name was going on? He needed to put an end to this, and quickly.
"Right... Well, don't worry about the project. I'll take care of it and present it, and i'll rate you well at the end too. So you can just take it easy." He was offering the opportunity of a lifetime here.
"Hell no," Geto immediately responded, taking Gojo by surprise. "How can I trust someone I've just met to handle a major grade all on his own? What if you screw it all up?"
Gojo's eyebrows furrowed in irritation. Gojo? Screw it up?
"Im a straight A student, I won't mess it up." (straight A's from homeschool aren't very impressive, Gojo)
"I'm also a straight A student. Would you trust me with this?" Geto asked, grinning, and leaning in closer.
"No." He mumbled. "That's different."
"I don't- this is a pointless argument—"
"It's settled, then. We'll do the project together. Since neither of us trusts the other to do it himself."
Gojo rolled his eyes. When had they agreed upon that?
"You can review my work." Gojo gritted out.
"We'll see about that. I'll see you later tonight, then?" Geto smiled, all sugary sweet.
"You're just assuming I don't have any plans?" Gojo asked. He didn't know where this brashness was coming from, only that it had been pouring out of him from the moment sin incarnate had seated himself next to him.
"Didn't think so. My place?" Geto asks, grinning.
"No, come to my place." Gojo says, because the last thing he wants is to be in another man's bedroom, not when he's Gojo's infuriating perfect opposite, and boils his blood, and certainly not when he's this gorgeous—
"M'kay." Geto agrees, and slides his phone over to Gojo to enter his information. Gojo sighs, relieved that he didn't put up a fight about this at the very least, as he enters his number into Geto's phone.
A moment passes, and Geto texts him a simple 'sup', so that Gojo can make a contact for him as well.
"Just text me the deets," Geto says, collecting his things and waving as he takes his leave.
He stares at his phone, at the new contact, Suguru Geto.
The very first person in his contacts that wasn't family.
Gojo startles when the knock comes at his door, taking one more sweeping glance around his dorm to make sure it was presentable. He'd just deep cleaned the whole room, despite it already being pristinely clean.
He nodded at Geto as he opened the door for him, nerves pooling in his gut. Being in here with Geto, in his small, quiet room, his safe space, was so different than sitting next to him in the lecture hall. He could hear his every fucking breath.
"Hello," Geto greeted as Gojo shut the door behind him. He doesn't look at Gojo, though, who's changed into more comfortable house-wear, instead deciding to explore him room.
There wasn't much to see, however. Gojo had opted not to decorate, not having any interests worth displaying. At least, not ones he'd allow his family to see during an impromptu visit. He kept his collection of history books stashed safely in the back of his closet.
Geto was inspecting his stack of CDs, one of the only hobbies his family had allowed, before grabbing one and popping it into Gojo's CD player.
Of course, there were limits on what music he was allowed to listen to.
The sweet and elegant hum of the violin began to flow from the CD player, and he watched Geto's expression morph into one of confusion.
"You actually listen to this crap?" Geto asked, snickering at the music.
"I happen to quite like Tchaikovsky. Now, did you come here to make it strikingly obvious that you have no taste for real music or to work on the project?" Gojo bit back, surprisingly defensive. He had never spoken to anyone like that.
Geto raised his hands in surrender, laughing even harder. How could he make something as mundane as laughing look so good?
Gojo must be losing his damn mind. Maybe he really oughta keep up with his prayers.
"Okay, let's get to it, then," Geto smiles, seating himself on the floor, rummaging around in his pin and keychain covered backpack before fishing out his laptop.
"Let's start here," Geto continued, once he'd gotten Microsoft Word pulled up. "Which religion's your favorite?"
Gojo seats himself a safe distance away. "None of them."
"Oh? But you're studying Theology?" Geto smiles coyly.
Gojo says nothing, not wanting to explain his situation.
"There's not one you identify with?"
"No," Gojo says again, already annoyed. "I don't have a favorite."
"I'm personally quite drawn to Buddhism. As a concept."
"Great," Gojo says, though internally, he's thinking: Did I ask? "We can talk about one of the core principles. Anicca, maybe?"
"Anicca? So boring. Do you always play it so safe, Gojo?" Geto asks, drawing out every syllable of his name.
"What do you suggest, then, Buddha?" Gojo deadpans.
Geto's smile turns impish.
"That's hardly appropriate."
Geto tilts his head. "It's foundational."
Gojo exhales through his nose. "We're supposed to be presenting to a room full of people." And my parents would fucking crucify me if they found out about this!! Gojo neglects to add.
Geto leans back in his chair, completely unbothered. "Tanha explains why people fail at religion."
"Break vows. Lie. Cheat. Doubt," Geto continues, clearly quite passionate about the subject. "You can't talk about faith without talking about wanting. Buddhism just admits that outright."
"Craving isn't evil," Geto says. "It's instinctive. The problem is pretending you don't have it."
Gojo's grip tightens around his pen. "The point is to overcome it. With discipline and obedience."
Discipline and obedience. Gojo could really use some discipline right now, because somehow their bickering had pulled the two closer together, physically, and Gojo had drawn close enough that he could reach out and touch Geto. If he wanted to. Which he didn't.
"Or is the point to understand it, acknowledge it, before it consumes you?" Geto asks. "Because suppression doesn't dissipate desire. It only serves to sharpen it."
Gojo's stomach twists. Was it hot in here? his cheeks felt awfully warm.
"We're not turning this into a psychological case study," Gojo mumbles. "It's just Intro to Theology. I'm sure the other presentations are going to be stupid, like, the symbolism of bread in the new testament..."
"Everything theological is psychological," Geto replies, ignoring Gojo's very valid point. "Religion just dictates what you do with those natural urges."
His gaze flicks, briefly, to Gojo's mouth.
"And Buddhism asks that you notice how your body reacts before your mind can catch up." Geto finishes.
"...Are we still talking about tanha?"
Geto laughs softly. "You tell me."
Close, they were so goddamn close to eachother.
Then, Geto's eyes flit to Gojo's crotch. Panicked, Gojo looks too.
Oh dear God, Buddha, Allah, Brahma—
He was rock hard, and his shorts were doing nothing to hide it. Gojo feels as if he might go into a genuine state of shock, induced by extreme embarrassment.
He looks back up, defensive words already pooling against his lips, but Geto is leaning into him, and there's no time to react before their lips press together.
As if on instinct, Gojo's mouth gives way to Geto's, allowing them to move fluidly together as if dancing. He feels Geto's lips curve into a smile against his.
"Bed," Geto instructs, and Gojo just nods, yes, bed, and he seats himself awkwardly on the edge of it as if this wasn't his own room, his bed. Geto follows suit, leg hooking over Gojo's so he's propped on his lap, arms caging around Gojo, pushing his down onto his bed.
His lips find Gojo's again, and their foreheads as pressed together, Geto’s nose pressing against the bridge of his glasses. His lips are so soft, so impossibly plush, that it feels like maybe Gojo's gone to heaven. Perhaps his prayers hadn't been for naught.
Reality strikes quickly, though, when he realized what he was doing.
This boy, this stupidly beautiful boy on top of him could ruin everything. He refused to lose his first taste of freedom.
Gojo pulls away, thinking this will discourage Geto, but instead, he just adjusts his focus to the strain in Gojo's pants.
He shimmies down the bed, and Gojo can only watch in horror.
"Want me to take care of this for you?" Geto purrs, face pressed against Gojo's obvious erection.
"What are you—" A throaty whine slips out as Geto applies more pressure. "—Talking about?" Gojo asks, voice strained. Maybe he could fix this situation, turn things back around.
"Are you really playing coy?" Geto asks, wrapping his hand around the bulge through Gojo's shorts.
"What- what are you proposing?"
That is not your line, Gojo!!! Tell him to stop!!!
"God, you really are innocent. I thought it was all some act to seduce me!" Geto chuckles.
"You- you think I'd do that?" He asks, but it comes out hushed and falls on deaf ears as Geto tugs Gojo's shorts down, releasing his hard cock.
"Fuck- what are you doing?!" Gojo cries, feeling a warm wetness at the base of his cock. "That's- that's dirty!" He argues, absolutely mortified, but God, why does this feel so good?! He feels as if he's in some sort of trance, watching Geto's bunny pink tongue glide up his length.
"I like dirty," Geto hums, reaching Gojo's tip and putting it in his mouth with a satisfying pop, as if it were a piece of candy, eyeing the milky precum dribbling out with satisfaction.
"Holy fuck," Gojo practically whimpers, which Geto takes as confirmation that he's going a good job. In actuality, Gojo’s fucking spiraling, possibly on the verge of passing out. Before tonight he'd never so much as kissed someone, and now a man had his cock in his mouth. Fuck, he'd hardly even had a dirty thought before tonight.
His family would never let him come back to school if they knew. They’d disown him, they'd let fucking wolves eat him alive.
"You have to stop," Gojo breathes, trying desperately to put this madness to an end, despite the warmth burrowing in his core.
Geto raises a brow, and releases Gojo's cock from his lips.
"You want me to stop? Is this more of your 'discipline' bullshit?" He asks, leaning into Gojo, pressing him deep into the cushions. "Because right now, your cock is telling me it wants anything but obedience."
He can't even speak. Tears are pooling in his eyes, threatening to spill out. The thought that his family might find out, the shame that he'd bring to them—
The horrible aching feeling in his cock, now devoid of the wonderful, warm cavern that was Geto's mouth.
Despite himself, he nods. Yes, he wants this to stop. Because if Geto doesn't stop now, he will never be able to return to his normal life. Because now he had had a taste of pleasure.
Geto freezes for a moment, and Gojo relaxes slightly, thinking it's over.
"That wasn't very convincing," Geto hums, and then Geto's mouth is pressed onto his again, and it tastes different than before, and he shudders, knowing that what he's tasting is himself.
Geto's warm hand has found its way to Gojo's cock, and is pumping up and down at an infuriatingly good pace. And now Gojo is actually crying, because it's wrong, so wrong, but he cant even focus on the wrongness of it all because he feels like his cock is going to burst. It all feels so good, and he can't help but cry out with pleasure.
"Yeah?" Geto pants, breathless from exertion, and Gojo can't deny himself a moment longer.
For a moment he can't even see, he's blind with pleasure, and then he's heaving breaths, twitching and coming to, watching the scene unfold before him. He's spattered a trail of warm, white cum across his stomach, and Geto is dragging his tongue through it, "cleaning up", leaving messy white streaks all over.
"You have to stop," He tries again, but there's really no power behind it. Still, he puts his hand into Geto's hair, trying to physically pull him away.
"So, you're into hair pulling? I knew you weren't as innocent as you pretend to be," He grins, all too pleased with himself, then notices the tears streaming down Gojo's face. "Are you crying?" He asks, his smile immediately disappearing as he presses his hand to Gojo's cheek, runs a thumb through trail of tears.
Gojo doesn’t respond, hating that it was him that caused such an awful expression on Geto’s lovely face.
Geto pulls away like he's been burned.
"Oh, God. Oh, God.” He says, and he’s talking fast, head in his hands. “I'm sorry. I’m so sorry, I just—I overstepped, I—" and now he's the one scrambling. He's off Gojo in instant, off his bed, his hand on the doorknob. He's leaving.
It's over now. Gojo can leave this behind, forget it happened, let it all be a strange dream. He'll sit far from Geto in class, never look at him again, It’ll be as if he doesn’t exist—
"Don't leave," Gojo murmurs, and somehow, despite being halfway out the door, Geto hears him.
Geto, not existing to Gojo. What an awful, awful, thought. Gojo didn’t think he could bear it, not after what had passed between them tonight.
"Don't leave me here. Not after that," Gojo breathes. He doesn't know what he's doing.
Geto doesn't say anything, but he steps back inside the dorm, the door closing behind him as leans his body against it.
This was wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. He’d had an out.
But what if it wasn’t wrong? Just how long had he dismissed his families teachings because they were bullshit? How was this any different?
Because it felt so goddamn right.
All Gojo had ever done was play along with his families every fucking whim, every demand, every expectation. He'd been nothing but good, no, obedient, the model son.
It was damn near time he made a choice for himself.
Too fucking bad it went against everything his family had ever taught him!
This time it's him to close the distance between Geto and himself, to put his hands on his body.
He's kissing him, leading him back to the bed, pressing him into the cushions.
"Are- are you sure?" Geto murmurs between kisses.
"I owe you a favor," Gojo mumbles, kissing down Geto's neck. This was something people liked, right?
He wanted to do things that Geto liked.
"You don't owe me anything," Geto huffed out.
Gojo doesn't respond further, hoping his actions would speak for themself, as he pulls off Geto's stupidly tight T-shirt.
Geto's chest is an expanse of muscle, and, hello?! He did not know it was possible for a man to have such large pecs. God, he was getting turned on again.
"Well?" Geto snorts, grinning at how Gojo had gone mute staring at his bare chest.
"Oh, um, sorry— I just..." Gojo doesn't finish his sentence because he doesn't know what.
"Don't apologize. You're allowed to, y'know." Geto's smile is so filthy.
"Allowed to... what?" Gojo asks, and he knows, but was this really okay?
"Let me help you," Geto says, putting a hand behind Gojo's head, pushing his face into his own chest.
"Mmph! Hah.... mhmmmmm," Gojo slurs out, mouth full now.
He's frozen, unsure what to do next.
"Gosh, you really are helpless, aren't you?" Geto laughs. "Here," he says and then he's pushing his own pec upward with his hand, helping Gojo suck on it.
"Hah, fuck," Geto whines out, and it goes straight to Gojo's dick.
"Now, use your tongue. Swirl it around a little—"
Gojo does exactly that. He's rolling his tongue around and around Geto's sweet pink nipple, flicking it over the fragile bud.
This was dirty. This was so dirty. But Geto was right earlier. Dirty is fucking incredible.
"Mmph, keep doing that," Geto pants, reaching his hand down towards his crotch, and a moment later his strained cock is peeking out of the band of his sweatpants.
Gojo pushes Geto's hand off of his own cock, replacing it with his own as he pumps up and down like Geto did to his earlier, switching to Geto's other nipple to give it attention as well.
"Haaaah! Fuck, Gojo, that feels so good," Geto whines.
He liked hearing what he was doing to Geto, wanted to hear more.
"Bite it a little," Geto panted, out of breath.
And Gojo did just that, happy to do whatever this beautiful man asked of him.
He let his teeth press ever so slightly into the bud, rolling it gently back and forth between his teeth.
"Ah, fuck, G-Gojo, I think i'm going to cum," Geto breathed, pressing his hand harder into the back of Gojo's head, into his chest.
And like that, his seed splatters against his chest, some landing on Gojo's chin.
Geto slumps against the cushions, exhausted.
Gojo examines the mess, letting his body take control of him as he drags two fingers through it, and pushes it to Geto's lips.
"Since you made me taste myself earlier," Gojo breathes, and Geto lets his eyes flutter shut, opening his mouth as Gojo presses the two digits inside.
He swirls his tongue around the fingers, cleaning himself off of them.
"How's it taste?" Gojo asks.
"Terrible. Who knew you were so perverted?" He says, as Gojo removes his fingers.
"I certainly didn't." Gojo admits.
"That so?" Geto asks, wrapping his arms around Gojo's neck, and pulling him closer to himself.
For a moment they just lay there, their bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces as their chests press against each other, heaving, both trying to catch their breath.
Gojo doesn't answer, his hands having made their way into Geto's lovely black hair, running through it again and again, then twirling a piece around his finger.
"So the Satoru Gojo the world sees is the real you?" Geto finally asks.
"Maybe. I think it used to be. I don't really know anymore." Gojo sighs.
"I'm sorry to be the one to break you." Geto said, and it came out as a half laugh, which made Gojo chuckle in return.
"My family… they're very overbearing. I've always had to be a certain way, and anything less was inexcusable.” Gojo says, then pauses, surprising himself by surrendering this information. “Sorry, I wont bore you with more. You didn't break me, though. You just gave me my first opportunity to truly be me.”
"Has anyone ever told you that you're wonderful at pillow talk?" Geto laughs, pressing a kiss into the corner of Gojo's mouth.
Gojo couldn’t believe he’d thought he’d been free before tonight, that being away from his family was freedom. In reality, he’d still been shackled by their expectations, his wings clipped, living exactly how they wanted him to.
"Oh, shut up," Gojo snorts, angling his head so that Geto's lips press into his.
Now, this. This was freedom.
And then they're kissing again, and Gojo's tongue is exploring the inside of Geto's mouth, and their crotches are pressing together, and fuck, it feels so good, and how is it even possible that he's hard again??
"You up for round two?" Geto asks, and Gojo's nodding before the full question even leaves his lips.
"How far do you want to go?" He breathes against Gojo's ear.
"How far can we go?" Gojo asks.
"I like your way of thinking!" Geto bursts out laughing.
"Quit teasing," Gojo grumbles.
"You can... you can put it in me. If you want to," Geto says, and now he's the one embarrassed, his face bright red. "Jesus, i've never had to explain this to anyone. This is so humbling."
"Oh, fuck, Satoru, you can fuck me in my asshole if you want!" Geto basically screams, and Satoru's face goes red, not because of the proposition, but because Geto called him by his first name.
(Gojo's neighbors are trying so hard to mind their damn business rn)
"So that's how two dudes do it.."
Now Geto's mouth is basically on the floor, and he puts a hand over his gaping mouth.
"Holy fuck, you are innocent."
Gojo just nods, no point in pretending.
"You seriously must have lived under a rock. You've never watched porn?"
"I wasn't even allowed a phone until I got to college."
"Ah, I see..." Geto murmurs, curiosity getting the better of him.
"Enough of the boring stuff, though. Geto, I... I want to fuck you. In the ass." Gojo says, dead serious. Was that an attempt to be seductive?
"That last parts implied..." Geto bursts out in a fit of laughter, truly dumbfounded.
He's quickly distracted by Gojo tugging at his sweatpants, desperate to get them off.
"So I just... put it in?" Gojo asks, as Geto raises his lower half so his pants can slip off.
"God, no," Geto laughs. "You have to loosen it up first. People use either their fingers or their... ah, nevermind..."
"Their what?" Gojo asks, curiosity piqued.
"They, ah, use their tongues," Geto responds from behind his hands, shielding how red his face is right now. "But you don't have to do that! Fingers are good! Fingers are great!"
It's like the roles had been reversed, with Geto becoming a blubbering mess.
"Got it. Flip over, then." Gojo instructs, as if he knows what he's doing.
Geto lays on his chest, arching his back so that his ass is in the air for easy access. Gojo has to just stare for a moment, awed at such a lewd sight.
And to think just hours earlier he'd been as pure as a saint.
"So I just...?" And suddenly Geto is tensing, because Gojo's warm tongue is pressing into his entrance.
"Ah, Satoru!! I said you didn't have to do that!" He cries out, but his tongue doesn't stop, swirling around, then pressing in, in, in.
"Am I doing this right?" Gojo asks, momentarily pulling out.
"Ah, well, nobodies ever done this for me before so, um... it, ah, feels really good though," He admits, shamefaced.
"Other people of touched you here?" Satoru asks, a bit of edge to his voice.
Geto turns his head around as best as he can to look at Satoru.
"You think i'm a slut?" He asks.
"No," Gojo responds, but he is suddenly very jealous, jealous that someone else had seen Geto in this compromising position, that someone else might have shared a night just like this with him.
Was this just a normal night for him?
He plunges his tongue back in, jealousy kicking into overdrive as he pushes from wall to wall, when suddenly his tongue grazes a spot that makes Geto's entire body flinch, sending him reeling forwards, mewling in pleasure.
Gojo doesn't know what he's doing, only that it made Geto respond like that, so he's running his tongue over back and forth over the bump incessantly, until Geto is a whimpering mess.
"Fuck, Satoru! Anghhhhhh..." He cries, unable to stop twitching. "Gentle, Satoru— you have to be more gentle! It's too much!" Geto tries, his body pressed deep into the bed because it has nowhere else to go.
But Gojo doesn't let up, his mind full of other men making Geto feel good, but maybe he could make him feel even better.
He presses into the spot again and again, so that it's barely intelligible when Geto cries "M- my cock, Satoru."
Still, Gojo understands, reaching a hand forward to pump Geto's cock. It's warm in his hand, so warm, and he can literally feel it throbbing.
He runs his thumb gently under the head of Geto's cock as he pumps his cock, and suddenly it's bursting, hot white splattering all over the bedsheets.
Only then does Satoru stop touching his tongue to that lovely spot in Geto's ass, pulling himself out.
"Fuck, Satoru, you weren't supposed to make me cum again. You were just supposed to be stretching me a little." He says, waving an arm behind himself in an effort to whack Gojo, but missing entirely.
"Well, do you think you're stretched?" Gojo asks, licking around Geto's hole, kissing it softly.
"Yeah, I think so." He huffs, catching his breath.
"So now I just... put it in?"
"Goodness, give me a moment to catch my breath," Geto mumbles, flopping onto his back.
God, what a lovely sight.
Geto is collapsed on Gojo's plaid bedspread, eyes closed, white stains sinking into the fabric. Sweat is beading at his forehead, and his hair is splayed out majestically behind him, swirling into all sorts of shapes.
"You're really beautiful," Gojo notes absentmindedly, swirling a lock of Geto's hair on his finger as he climbs onto his lap.
"Says you. Don't you know how long i've had my eyes on you, pretty boy?" Geto coos, caressing Satoru's face, blushing angelically at Satoru's compliment. “Yet you never even looked my way.”
"Me?" Gojo point at himself, truly confused.
"Oh, please. Don't tell me you haven't noticed how every woman in class fawns over you? Men too—"
"Men like you?" Gojo asks.
"Yeah. Men like me." Geto breathes, finally opening his eyes, just in time to see the dopey smile spread across Gojo's face.
"Wipe that idiotic smile off your face." Geto says, though he's smiling stupidly, too. "I'm ready, now." Geto hums, flipping back over, but then Gojo puts a hand on him and he pauses.
"Can't we do it like this? So I can see you?"
"W-we can, but it'll be harder for you to reach—"
"I don't care." Gojo says, plainly.
"Fine then. I'll play along, Satoru. Normally you'd need lube, but since you used your tongue... I think it should be okay."
Gojo can't deny that he's shaking a little as he lines up the head of his cock with Geto's entrance, and he can't help but whine as he pushes inside, the feeling totally foreign.
"You okay?" Gojo asks, watching as Geto's face clenches up. He nods, stroking Gojo's face, as he pushes in further.
His ass is so plush, so warm, not to mention tight, so tight it's almost painful. Gojo wants to fuck him like an animal, right here right now, but he continues to gently push himself inside so as to not hurt Geto.
"You don't have to be so gentle with me," Geto hums, almost as if he just read Gojo's mind. "I can handle it."
But Gojo just shakes his head, pushing in inch by inch, agonizingly slow until finally the clap of his pelvis to Geto's ass comes.
"Ah!" Geto flinches. "S-stay there for a moment," And Gojo listens dutifully, bending over to try his hand at sucking Geto's cock while he waits.
He'd had so many firsts tonight, why not add another?
"Agh, Satoru, you are terrible at that!” Geto says after a moment. “Rule number one of sucking cock, I should never feel your teeth. And, well, it feels like you're damn near biting my cock off." Geto complains, and Gojo immediately stops, humbled to his core.
"That bad?" Gojo asks, slumping.
"There, there. You'll have plenty of time to learn. In the meantime, you can move. I'm okay now. Maybe teeth on cock is actually a genius way to help adjusting when being fucked because it feels so terrible that you completely forget about—"
"You're going to be sorry for that!" Gojo informs him, pulling out entirely, then slamming back in.
Geto cries out, pleasure and pain both coming in waves.
"Agh, fuck!!! Okay, okay, i'm sorry! I didn't mean it!!" Geto shrieks, and Gojo grins triumphantly, leaning over to kiss Geto again.
He begins pumping in and out rhythmically as he kisses Geto, savoring the way he moans into his mouth.
"That feel good?" Gojo asks.
"Fuck— ah, yes," Geto whines.
Gojo is losing himself too. His rhythm has increased in speed, feeling like Geto was sucking him in every time he pulled back. His glasses are fogging up with exertion, so he removes them and places them onto Geto’s face instead.
"God, Geto— You feel so fucking good. Nghhh..." Gojo moans.
"Your cock is literally inside my asshole right now, and you're still calling me Geto? It’s Suguru." He pants out, interrupted every few moments by the smack of Gojo thrusting all the way in. He’s adjusting the glasses on his face as if they belonged there. How fucking cute.
"Haaaah, say that again, Satoru."
"Suguru, am I making you feel as good as I feel? Suguru, Suguru, Suguru..." He moans again and again as he thrusts inside.
"It feels really good, Satoru. Feels... S'good...." Geto slurs out, hardly forming words.
Gojo doesn't know what possessed him, where he learned this, but maybe it was just because Geto's deliciously pink cock was bouncing around so neglected. He reaches a hand out, pushing his thumb against the slit of his cock, rubbing back and forth rapidly.
"Fuck— Oh god, Satoru, i'm going to cum," Geto cries, wrapping his arms around Gojo's neck.
"Yes, please, Suguru," Gojo whines, and like that, he feels a rush of pressure against his thumb, pulling it back to let it all spurt out. Some lands on his stomach, though most is dripping down Gojo’s hand.
"How messy," He notes, licking some off his hand to clean up. "You're right, this is pretty terrible." Gojo laughs.
"Satoru, just shut up and cum for me," Geto pants, truly exhausted.
And he does just that, shuddering as he feels the warmth squirt outwards, then spread across his spent cock as he pumps in and out a few more times to make sure every last drop is squeezed out.
"You felt so good, Suguru," Gojo murmurs as he collapses into Geto, their sweaty bodies practically melting into each other as they cling to one another, completely fucked out, trying to catch their breaths. "I had no idea what I was missing out on..."
This earns a genuine laugh from Geto.
They go quiet for a while after that, and Satoru thinks Geto had fallen asleep under his weight.
"I wasn't bored earlier," Geto says, quietly, surprising Gojo.
"When you were telling me about yourself. I... wasn't bored."
"Really. Tell me more, Satoru."
And tell him more he did.
That night, neither of them slept a wink, too enthralled with rolling all over the bed into different cuddling positions, as they talked the night away, sharing every last detail of their lives.
"Do you do this with every man you sleep with?" Gojo asked at some point, his earlier jealousy creeping back in.
"No. Only you, Satoru." Geto hummed, kissing Gojo gently. "Only you."
