Chapter Text
{2018}
Geto
“Unhh, fuck. Fuck me harder,” Geto panted out.
The slick length of Gojo’s cock pumped into him slowly - pressing in until Gojo’s hips were flush with his ass - before pulling out far enough that the swollen head caught on his rim.
“Baby, you know how much it turns me on when you get demanding like that,” Gojo purred. “If you don’t want me to come yet, you’d better behave.”
“Satoru, we’ve gotta - haahh - hurry up.”
The stretch and slide of Satoru inside him sent thrum after thrum of pleasure through Geto, but they couldn’t let themselves get even more carried away than they already had.
Gojo reached around to grab Geto’s chin, and tugged softly to direct his line of sight into the mirror in front of them.
“But look at how fucking gorgeous you are. God, I want to fuck you like this all day.”
They did make an appealing picture together. That much was undeniable.
In the mirror’s reflection, Geto watched the muscles in Satoru’s ass flex as he stroked his cock rhythmically into his ass, but it was those damn blue eyes that always got Geto’s pulse racing.
They had been getting ready to leave their apartment - brushing their teeth in the bathroom - when things had gotten heated. Now Geto had one knee propped up on their bathroom counter while Gojo slid in and out of him.
“Aaah - classes - unnhh - at nine.”
If they were late to teaching their first day of classes of the year - because they were fucking too much - Yaga was going to crucify them.
“ But you feel so good, Suguru. I want to live inside this ass. So - unnnnhhh - so tight and sweet for me.”
Despite his wishes to draw it out, Gojo couldn’t stop himself from speeding his movements - chasing more of the pleasure Geto’s body gave him.
“Fuck teaching,” Gojo huffed. “Let me be your sugar daddy and - aahhhh - we can fuck all day, every day. I’ll give you whatever you want, Suguru. Whatever you - ah fuck.”
He fucked into Geto harder, driving all the way into his body on each thrust.
Geto was dripping a puddle of precum onto the countertop, and Satoru hadn’t even touched his dick yet. Gojo thrusted steadily over Geto’s prostate, massaging him from the inside in a way that felt incredible and made Geto’s dick drool like crazy, but it had never been quite enough to make him come without some stimulation to his cock.
Gojo liked to use that fact to his advantage whenever he was enjoying making Geto wait for his release, and normally Geto would’ve relished the heavenly torture just as much as Gojo did.
But they really, really needed to wrap this up if they were going to be on time.
And, more importantly, Geto was going to go out of his mind if he didn’t come soon.
Geto wrapped a hand around the base of himself, but he wasn’t even able to slide his fist up the full length of his cock before Gojo batted his hand away.
“Be good for me, baby. You want to be good for me, don’t you?” Gojo hummed out as he ran his hands over Geto’s hips. “Let me fuck you more. You feel - ah fuuuck - you feel too good for me to stop.”
Geto tried - and failed - not to let the hunger inside of him flare under the fuel of Satoru’s fawning.
“Don’t try to sweet talk me into getting what you want,” Geto bit out, only barely managing not to blatantly moan out Satoru’s name.
“Mmm, but you love it.”
Gojo was fucking him in earnest now, but Geto wanted more. He needed it.
Lucky for him, he knew exactly how to push Satoru’s buttons.
Geto grabbed Gojo’s wrist and directed his hand to where they were connected together. Their fingers tangled together against Geto’s rim, and Geto held Gojo’s hand there, so he would feel his own shaft as it dragged out and then pressed back into Geto’s body.
Gojo groaned out so loud that Geto was sure they were going to get another noise complaint. But when Gojo pulled most of the way out, Geto wrapped their entwined hands tightly around the slippery base of Gojo’s cock - stilling his thrusts for a moment.
“If you don’t finish soon,” Geto panted out. “I’m not going to let you come at all.”
Satoru huffed out in indignation.
“Liar,” he accused, with less conviction than he probably wanted.
The threat might have been an empty one, but it had its intended effect. One of Gojo’s hands stayed splayed over Geto’s ass, but his other hand pressed at the center of Geto’s back to angle him so that Gojo could drive into him even deeper.
Gojo snapped his hips hard - hard enough that Geto was going to have a bruise on his thigh from where he was ramming into the counter, but all the sensations swirled and pooled into a singular burning perfection inside him.
“Unngghh, Satoru.”
Geto tried again to jerk himself off, but Satoru simply pulled his fingers away and finally wrapped his own fist around Geto’s leaking erection.
Geto couldn’t help but smirk at Gojo’s predictability in that regard - greedy, even when it came to sharing with Geto’s own hands.
The squeeze of Satoru’s large, powerful hand made Geto’s entire body curl with pleasure, and Geto felt possessed with the need to come all over Satoru’s fingers. The feeling of Gojo fucking him from both ends was about to get him there, but he wanted to tip over the edge with the hot throb of Gojo spilling into him.
“Aaah, stop making me - hahh - wait,” Geto demanded. “Come inside me, Satoru. You know I need it.”
“Unnnh fuck, don’t say that,” Gojo bit out, as his fingers dug into the flesh of Geto’s ass. “I don’t wanna finish yet.”
His hips stuttered, but he managed to pull back from his orgasm.
Every second that Gojo’s cock was inside Geto was pure heaven, but now the competitive urge to make Gojo come was too strong to suppress.
Determined, he pressed his palms into the countertop and straightened up until his back was flush against Gojo’s chest.
The feeling of their heated skin pressed together pulled a quiet whimper from Satoru, and the sound made Geto rabid with need.
Gojo tightened his fist on Geto’s cock, and his free hand shamelessly explored Geto’s body - rubbing possessively over his muscular chest, teasing at the barbell through his left nipple, tugging gently at the tautness of his balls.
The new positioning put Geto’s body more clearly on display, and he could see the hungry way that Gojo’s gaze devoured his reflection in the mirror. Gojo loved to touch and he loved to watch - and Geto knew it.
But every brush of Gojo’s fingers sent pleasure arcing through Geto, too, and he knew he would come soon whether or not Gojo did.
“Shit. Fuck, Suguru. Aaahh.”
Gojo tightened his arm around Geto’s broad chest, and Geto felt a thrill of triumph, knowing that Gojo wouldn’t be able to stop himself this time.
“You want it?” Gojo bit out, his lips moving against the sensitive skin behind Geto’s ear. “It’s all for you, Suguru. Every drop.”
“I want you, Satoru. Aahh, I always do.”
Gojo could do nothing else but stuff his cock as deep into Geto as he could and let the cascade of sensation take him over. The rhythmic pulse of warmth inside him made Geto’s balls throb hard with their own release.
He clenched around Satoru’s thickness as they both came, and it was a miracle they didn’t end up collapsing onto the bathroom floor.
As they were cleaning up afterwards, Gojo smacked Geto’s ass hard enough to sting.
“Those were some dirty tactics.”
The accusation was softened by the fucked-out look of satisfaction on his face, but Geto knew what he meant.
When they had the time, they could gorge themselves on each other for hours and still want more. Even when it was almost too much, it was never enough. A rough and dirty quickie in their bathroom would only leave Gojo distractedly horny the entire day.
Maybe it made him a little twisted, but Geto enjoyed imagining Satoru squirming with that feeling all day.
“Mmm, you were serious about quitting our jobs and fucking all day, then?” Geto teased.
Gojo perked up immediately.
“I’ll call Yaga right now.”
Geto gave him a playful shove, and Gojo was still so loopy from coming that he stumbled into the counter and knocked over the bottle of hand soap.
Geto stifled a laugh, but not that well.
“Don’t be so impatient, Satoru,” he said, letting a simmering heat slip into his tone. “You know that I’ll give you whatever you want. Tonight. After work.”
Gojo raised an eyebrow, but didn’t give in immediately. Geto wrapped his arms around him.
“I’ll let you fuck my throat,” Geto offered in a deep rumble against Gojo’s bare shoulder. “You could tie me up.”
Gojo shifted in his hold, pressing into him.
“I could make you come again and again, until you’re begging me to stop.”
Satoru was obviously interested, and doing a poor job of hiding it, but he held his position, stubbornly.
I’m just as bad as him for loving it.
“You’re supposed to be offering to do my favorite things. Not yours.”
“You like them too,” Geto said, dropping a kiss onto Gojo’s perfect skin.
Gojo smirked.
“I guess they’re not so bad,” he allowed, as if each of those things didn’t turn him into a babbling puddle of a man. “With you.”
***
“Gojo Sensei.”
Geto and Gojo were walking across the Jujutsu High campus - from their apartment in the teachers’ quarters to the classrooms - when Megumi approached them.
“Megumiii,” Gojo said, drawing out the last syllable. “Are you sure you’re set on the whole ‘Gojo Sensei’ thing?”
Gojo never had been successful in getting Megumi to call him ‘big brother’ or even ‘Satoru.’
“You’re my teacher, now,” Megumi explained, flatly, as if he thought Gojo was actually too stupid to know that.
“Alright,” Gojo relented. “Then, what can this benevolent, handsome teacher do for his precious student?”
The dark-haired teenager was as surly as ever, but he seemed uncharacteristically sheepish.
“I wanted to thank you again,” Megumi hesitated. “For saving Itadori.”
Gojo waved his hand through the air.
“Don’t worry about it. I remember having a crush on a cute classmate in my first year here, too.”
Geto couldn’t suppress the curl of a smile.
“Too bad Shoko turned me down,” Gojo quipped.
Geto elbowed him.
It had been years since Gojo had tailored his Limitless to give Geto special access to his body, and Geto used that access very liberally.
“Yeah, see, this is the other thing I wanted to talk to you about,” Megumi cut in, with narrowed eyes. “Please don’t make those kinds of jokes in front of Itadori.”
“What jokes?”
Megumi scowled.
“I don’t have a crush on him.”
Gojo huffed out a laugh.
“Riiight, sure thing. Just don’t get too attached, in case we still need to execute him. Love him and leave him, you got it?”
“Gojo.”
“Satoru.”
Gojo held a palm up against the barrage of disapproval, but he didn’t tamp down the knowing smile he leveled at Megumi.
“Alright, alright, calm down. Don’t get your Weezer boxers in a twist. I’m not going to out you to your boyfriend.”
Megumi glared at Gojo like he was considering calling out one of his shikigami.
“You’re the worst,” Megumi grumbled.
“Don’t pout. I heard that Yuji doesn’t like sulky guys.”
“I’m going to punch you.”
“Oooh, you never train with me anymore,” Gojo chirped.
“Don’t say anything to Itadori,” Megumi gritted out before turning on his heel and stalking off.
“Aahh, young love,” Gojo said, in the most doting voice imaginable. “Even Megumi can’t help turning into an idiot around a cute boy.”
“Yeah, right,” a voice called out from behind them.
It was Shoko approaching them, this time. She was dressed in her doctor’s coat, and Geto never could quite get used to how professional she looked in it. To him, she was still that teenager who had once puked up pilfered whiskey into a trash can outside a donut shop in Shibuya at four in the morning.
“You two have no right to call out anyone for acting like an idiot when it comes to love,” Shoko continued.
Eight years later, Shoko still wouldn’t stop complaining about their extended period of unnecessary pining.
“Shoko, he doesn’t love me,” she mimicked, in an unrealistic falsetto. “Shoko, be quiet - it’s a secret!”
“Neither of us sounds anything like that,” Geto protested.
“Unfortunately, I know all about what you both sound like in every situation. You deserve criminal charges for some of that, for the record. It’s indecent.”
“Is there a reason you came over or did you just want to insult us?” Geto asked.
“Well, mostly the insulting. It’ll help get me through the first week of classes,” Shoko sighed. “It’s always hellish. And the first years this year seem even worse than the second years.”
Geto and Gojo both bristled at that, even though she was clearly only saying it to rile them, since Nanako and Mimiko were now in Geto’s second year class, and Megumi was a first year under Gojo.
Geto was excited to watch first-hand as the twins continued to flourish and forge deep friendships with fellow sorcerers, and Gojo was just excited that he got to force Megumi to hang out with him.
“The third years are the problem children,” Gojo corrected.
“The second years are the best class of students we’ve had in a decade,” Geto added, unable to stop the pride in his voice.
“Pffft, please. The first years are prime this year,” Gojo argued. “And if the second years are any good, it’s only because their first year teacher was the best.”
“Their first year teacher was borderline negligent and forgot to show up to their lecture on the first day,” Geto countered.
Gojo smirked salaciously at him.
“I didn’t forget. I was just busy with the second year teacher. Suck-”
“For the love of all things holy in this world, shut up,” Shoko cut in.
It was a good thing she loved them so much because no other person on earth would put up with the level of bullshit from them that she did - even if she did occasionally boo and throw things at them.
“I mean it, though,” Shoko went on, in an attempt to right the conversation. “Take care of the kids, alright? I don’t want to see any of them in my office.”
It was an understandable sentiment from Shoko, who was the one who had to deal with all of the student’s injuries, but it wasn’t a totally necessary thing to say to Geto and Gojo.
Satoru joked about Itadori, but if the traditionalist sect of Jujutsu society actually made a bid to execute the kid, they’d have more than Gojo and Geto to answer to.
The three of them - Geto, Gojo, and Shoko - had formed a de facto union for Jujutsu Sorcerers. The group consisted mostly of like-minded Jujutsu High teachers, and a few others from the community who believed in the need for change.
After a minorly bloody incident, they had managed to force transparency into the previously shadowy cohort of higher-ups in Jujutsu society and secure elected seats into the newly formed council that would thereafter handle major decision making. The violent episode also had the unintended benefit of showing the old guard that Geto was vicious enough to take a harsher path towards progress, when the peaceful one was failing, and that Gojo would follow him if he did.
The solution wasn’t without its faults.
The traditionalist faction wasn’t above relying on cheating and subterfuge in their attempts to pack the council. And there were disagreements and infighting among their own group - Gojo and Utahime still sniped at each other like teenagers, and Nanami could barely participate in a meeting without walking out in exasperation. But what united them all was a shared commitment to do a better job protecting Jujutsu sorcerers, and that went doubly for the students in their care.
Geto still wasn’t sure how much deep and lasting change they could bring about in the Jujutsu world, and it never felt like he was doing enough - trying hard enough, sacrificing enough - to better the world, but he would keep fighting to protect the people he cared about until the day he died.
“Of course, Shoko,” Geto reassured her. “They’re our kids. You know we’ll take care of them.”
Shoko, headed in the opposite direction towards the med bay, left them to walk across the last stretch of campus that separated them from welcoming their students for the new year.
As much as he cherished Shoko, Geto welcomed the moment alone with Gojo.
New school years always made him nostalgic about all the new beginnings he’d had in his life. And all his favorite beginnings featured Satoru.
***
Suguru was fifteen years, six months, and eight days old the morning that his life changed forever.
The boy with stark white hair and the most beautiful blue eyes looked at him - with the late summer sun behind him like a flare, a crown, a spotlight - and everything was different.
He was different.
At first, the difference was small enough that he sometimes wondered if it was there at all. But day by day, he changed more. Until he was a new Suguru entirely.
Satoru’s Suguru.
***
Nearly six years later, the night before they finally confessed the full depth and breadth of their feelings for each other, they slept apart for the last time.
They were in adjacent rooms in the teacher’s dorms, and Geto fell asleep wondering if - when Gojo slept alone - he splayed out on the bed, taking up all the space, or if he curled up small on his side.
After they officially became a couple, they traded off sleeping in Geto’s room or Gojo’s, until - a week later - Geto suggested that they avoid the inconvenience altogether and move their things into a shared room.
By the time they took their next missions apart, they had both grown too used to the warmth and weight on the other side of the bed to drift easily into sleep without each other.
And every night after that - no matter where they were during the day, no matter how far apart their assignments took them - Satoru would find Suguru, and they would curl against each other in sleep.
***
A month after that, Geto and Gojo realized that they hadn’t told anyone they were dating.
In the drunken haze of their finally requited love, it never occurred to them to make a big announcement.
Apparently, the overtly romantic way they treated each other as boyfriends was no indicator to their friends and coworkers that anything about their relationship had changed.
And that was the start of Gojo’s obsession with making sure the entire world knew that they were together.
Sometimes their love felt like a precious secret - a treasure to horde between them and hold safe, away from the world. But Geto bloomed with satisfaction every time Gojo proudly threaded their fingers together in public or ostentatiously wrapped an arm around him.
***
When they were twenty-five, Geto helped Gojo wrap bandages around his eyes for the first time.
Geto sat on the couch with Satoru on the floor at his feet. While Geto’s fingers moved carefully through the warm silence between them, he realized that they had been together for longer than they had spent pining for each other.
That felt like a new beginning, too.
***
“Hey, Suguru,” Gojo said, pulling Geto out of his reverie. “You ok?”
Even after asking that question thousands of times, Geto knew that Gojo meant the question genuinely. He wanted to hear about all the tarry, spikey bits of Geto’s psyche right alongside the shiny, velvet ones.
On the days when everything hurt, the softness in Satoru’s voice was a warm amber light in the darkness. Satoru’s heart was always large enough and open enough for Suguru to hide inside of, when he needed to.
On the good days - which was most days, now - the question was an excuse to be unapologetically sappy.
Geto reached over to Gojo’s face and eased up the corner of his blindfold enough for one sparkling blue eye to look back at him.
“I’m happy,” he said, truthfully. “Just thinking about fond memories. How are you?”
Gojo grinned at him.
“Are you kidding? I’m fantastic. I’ve got the hottest piece of ass in the world on my arm.”
Geto rolled his eyes at that, but he had never learned how to stop laughing at Gojo’s bad jokes. And he knew that Satoru would tell him if there was actually something bothering him.
They had almost made it to the classrooms, which meant they’d have to be apart for the rest of the morning.
“Give me a kiss,” Gojo said, somewhere between a demand and a plea.
Geto looked over his shoulder to see if they were alone, even though he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from kissing Satoru if they weren’t.
He’d barely pulled back from the chaste kiss before Gojo was pulling on his hand.
“I want another one.”
“You’re ridiculous,” Geto said, but even he could hear how adoring his own voice sounded. “I’ll see you at lunch. In four hours.”
Satoru bumped his nose softly against Geto’s, pouting just the barest amount.
“I’ll miss you, though.”
Geto pressed in so close that when he spoke, his lips brushed against Gojo’s.
“I’ll miss you, too.”
He kissed Gojo about ten more times before they both were satisfied.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
He’d thought those words every day for thirteen years, but now he got to say them aloud. And maybe he’d never stop feeling grateful for that. He hoped that he wouldn’t.
“I love you, Satoru.”
Satoru pushed his blindfold up higher, so that he could see Suguru fully, with both eyes open.
“I love you, Suguru.”
Gojo began to unlace their fingers, but Geto held on - needing one more moment with the other half of his soul.
“Satoru.”
“Hmm?”
Those blue eyes - the sky, the ocean, the color of Satoru’s soul - turned to him.
Always turned to him.
“Do you ever regret that it took us so long to figure it out?”
He didn’t elaborate on his meaning, and he knew he didn’t have to.
“Honestly?” Gojo asked.
It was a fair clarification, because Gojo joked constantly about how much stellar sex they missed out on as teenagers.
“Yeah, honestly.”
Gojo thought about the question for a moment.
“I would’ve been happier, if we were together,” he admitted. “There’s no question about that. Of course I wish that I’d found the courage to be more honest then. But even if we didn’t know, I think we still knew. On some level, my soul knew. My heart knew.”
Geto understood what he meant.
The light feeling in his chest whenever Satoru was near. The calm that seeped into his bones. The sense that they fit together.
Satoru’s mouth curled up before he went on. It was Geto’s favorite smile. Not a smirk or a toothy grin - although Geto loved those too - but the one Satoru had when he let himself fall fully, vulnerably, into the soft, complicated beauty of the world.
“So, it doesn’t make me sad to think about what we were to each other, then,” Gojo said. “We were in love. We loved each other. All that time. We just had to figure out how to say it.”
Even in the bright light of the morning, the sunlight paled against the brilliance of Satoru’s eyes.
“And I could never regret a day I spent loving you.”
Geto’s chest squeezed with emotion.
“Satoru.”
“What?” he replied, his grin taking on a teasing edge. “Was that a bad answer or do I still get to make whatever kinky request I want tonight?”
Suguru wrapped his hand around the back of Satoru’s head, slipping the tips of his fingers under the edge of his blindfold, and dragged him in for a proper kiss.
Life was never perfect.
Suguru knew that.
But sometimes - like when he kissed Satoru on a crisp, late summer morning - his life felt perfect.