Kento Nanami has always had a thing for alt baddies, men and women alike, even after shedding his own emo exterior after high school.
He’ll be walking down the street and a head of dyed hair and facial piercings will catch his eye, looking back over his shoulder as they walk away, a smirk on his face and a half hard cock in his pants. He can’t get enough of it and when the cravings get to be too much, he’s quick to pull out his cell phone and call the one couple he knows can satisfy his need.
That phone call leads to drinks at a dingy bar leads to you and Suguru making out sloppy style over his tip, saliva dripping down his length and soaking into the couch cushions under him as you take turns swallowing him down.
Kento’s hair is disheveled and sticking to his sweaty forehead, eyes rolling into the back of his head each time one of your throats constricts around him, low groans of ‘oh, fuck’ and ‘like that’ slipping from his mouth and dissipating into the stuffy air of your apartment.
He keeps a hand wrapped in Suguru’s long, dark locks, occasionally tightening his grip to draw a moan from him and to get those vibrant violet eyes to lock with his, even if it’s just for a moment as Suguru sucks in a sharp breath. The fingers of his other hand grip the base of his cock, pulling it from your mouth and slapping it against your pierced tongue, the sensation from the warm metal ball sending a shiver down his spine in the most mouth watering way.
All of his pent up need is released in hot, sticky spurts across your tongues, chest heaving as the two of you lick up every last drop, but he’s not done—couldn’t be.
He’s sent on his way in the morning with a kiss from each of you and a reminder that he can call anytime.
During their teen years, it’s no secret that Nanami looks up to Geto. He’s a quiet and reserved kid - doesn’t go out of his way to play particularly nicely with others aside from what’s considered polite - but always seems to have a soft smile on his face when he’s speaking with Geto. Nanami is uncharacteristically shy around him, plagued with a little school boy crush on the smooth, confident senior. Nanami doesn’t know if Geto is aware of this little fact (he is) but if he is, Geto doesn’t make it known. He just flashes that smooth, sweet smile of his and pats Nanami on the shoulder as he passes by alongside Gojo, who’s talking his ear off about something Nanami couldn’t care less about.
Ten years later, Geto has long since defected from Jujutsu Tech. Gone is the empathetic, compassionate teen they once knew, replaced by a fearsome Curse User hellbent on reshaping society in his vision. Nanami has changed too, his lanky form filled out into something tall and broad, a respected Grade One Sorcerer. Older, but still with that same stoic calmness from his youth, except that all the innocent admiration and respect he had for Geto is tainted now with something twisted, something darker.
When they meet again the tension in the air is thick, stifling with a decade of words unspoken, sugary emotions left to rot like the sick bloom of mould in overripe fruit. It’s peaked higher when Nanami finally breaks - pushes Geto to the wall, thick forearm pressed hard over his collarbones as he hisses vitriol through clenched teeth - a crack in his aloof mask.
And then somewhere along the line he loses it entirely. Maybe it’s the soft little sound Geto makes when Nanami shoves him against the brick. Or the way Geto peers up at him through his lashes with those dark eyes, swirling with something sinful and dangerous. Or maybe it’s when he catches a glimpse of Geto’s pink tongue slipping out to wet his lips - and all that hate and anger turns to a desperate need.
He’d never pictured it going this way, his first time with Geto, but Nanami takes him against the wall right then and there anyway. He’s overflowing - a festering well of hurt and fury, spitting venom, showing Geto all of his newfound strength. And despite the bruises Nanami’s fingers are biting into his throat, and the way the stone behind him is rubbing his spine raw - Geto just fixes him with that same honeyed smile that used to send a burst of butterflies through Nanami’s gut, and asks Nanami if this is what he’d wanted to do to him all those years ago.
Nanami flinches at that. It’s the same face from his memories, the same lips, the same pearly slip of teeth, but it’s wrong now somehow, warped like a funhouse mirror. The vision of him is tainted with time and vitriol as Geto continues to taunt him from where he’s pinned tight against brick. Those sweet winding words of his only making Nanami push harder, fucking him into the wall until Geto can’t speak anymore, until his skin bruises dark and angry beneath his grip.
