Chapter Text
The familiar buzz of the tattoo gun filled the air, blending with the low hum of the background music playing in the studio. Sukuna’s hand moved with precision, finishing the last intricate detail on his client’s tattoo. He leaned back, inspecting his work with a critical eye.
“There,” he said, wiping away the excess ink with a clean towel. “All done. Take a look.”
The client, a young woman with a dragon tattoo now winding its way up her forearm, gasped in awe as she saw the final result in the mirror. “This is amazing! Thank you so much!”
Sukuna grinned, a flicker of pride in his chest as he gave her the aftercare instructions. “Take good care of it, and if you need a touch-up, just give us a call.”
As the client left, Sukuna wiped down his station with the intensity of someone preparing for a surgery. Every surface was gleaming, every tool placed in perfect alignment as if the fate of the world depended on it. The chair squeaked slightly as he pushed it into its precise position. He stepped back, hands on his hips and admired his work. Flawless, as always.
Satisfied, he made his way to the front of the shop, where Kento sat behind his desk like the unshakable wall of stoicism he always was. His fingers clicked across the keyboard in a rhythm so methodical it could have scored a symphony for accountants. Papers were stacked with surgical precision, pens lined up like soldiers ready for inspection.
“Kento,” Sukuna began, leaning against the desk and gesturing vaguely toward the appointment book. “Hit me. What’s on the docket today? Am I free to bask in my own magnificence, or do I actually have to work?”
Kento didn’t bother looking up, instead flipping the book open with the kind of effortless grace that made Sukuna irrationally jealous. “Two walk-ins this afternoon. Both straightforward. Unless, of course, you overcomplicate things. Which you will.”
Sukuna snorted. “Straightforward? You know me better than that. My art demands complexity, Kento. Depth. Meaning.”
Kento finally looked up, his gaze flat enough to crush Sukuna’s theatrics on the spot. “Your art demands three hours of you obsessing over a single line and scaring clients into thinking they are going to ruin it if they sneeze too loudly.”
Kento adjusted his glasses, his face utterly unreadable. “Boring pays the bills. Someone has to handle the finances while you’re busy asking clients to call you ‘King of Ink.’”
Sukuna opened his mouth, paused and then laughed. “First of all, that happened once. Second, it’s better than being called...what do they call you? The Tax Guy?”
“They call me efficient,” Kento corrected. “But I can see how that word might confuse you.”
Sukuna raised an eyebrow. “Efficient? Is that what we’re calling being a robot now? You’ve got this place so organized I’m pretty sure even the dust is on a schedule. This desk looks like it belongs to a psychopath. Or a serial killer.”
“Organization is the mark of a competent individual,” Kento replied smoothly, adjusting his glasses. “But I wouldn’t expect someone whose life looks like a ‘before’ picture in a cleaning ad to understand that.”
Sukuna leaned forward, pointing a finger at him. “You take that back. My appartment is artfully cluttered. You wouldn’t understand—it’s a creative space.”
“Creative is a generous word for something that looks like a landfill,” Kento said, completely deadpan, “Sure, if you consider Yuuji’s Lego minefield on the floor a modern installation piece. And let’s not forget the laundry chair—you know, the one where clothes go to die. Half the time, I can’t tell if they’re clean, dirty, or just confused.”
Sukuna scoffed. “It’s a system, Kento. You wouldn’t get it. It’s homey.”
“Homey,” Kento echoed, deadpan. “Right. Nothing says ‘home sweet home’ like stepping on a Lego at midnight while dodging a couch that smells suspiciously like cheese.”
“That was one time!” Sukuna snapped.
Kento tilted his head slightly, a glint of amusement barely visible in his stoic expression. “And yet, it’s burned into my memory. Tell me, do you charge admission to live in your performance art, or is it just Yuuji who has to suffer through it?”
Sukuna groaned, dropping his head onto the desk. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re lucky Yuuji loves you enough to put up with it,” Kento said smoothly, flipping through the appointment book. “But if he ever asks to move in with me, just know it’s entirely your fault.”
Sukuna opened his mouth to argue, but Kento cut him off, raising a hand. “And don’t even get me started on the mystery smell in the corner last time I came over. If that’s what you call ‘artful,’ I’ll stick to my boring, clean apartment, thanks. At least Yuuji doesn’t have to play ‘guess which pile my homework is in’ at my place.”
Sukuna groaned, throwing his hands up. “Okay, okay, point taken. But Yuuji love's it. He's happy.”
Kento’s lips quirked in the barest hint of a smile. “Of course, he’s happy. He’s six. Just don’t let your apartment get to the point where it belongs on an episode of Hoarders.”
Sukuna stared at him, unable to tell if he was joking or delivering a serious critique of his life choices. “One day, Kento,” he said, shaking his head, “you’re gonna crack a joke and I’m not gonna know if I should laugh or file for emotional damage.”
“That day,” Kento replied, turning back to his computer, “will be today.”
Sukuna blinked, thrown off balance. “Wait... are you joking, or are you serious?”
Kento didn’t bother looking up, his fingers resuming their steady rhythm on the keyboard. “Yes.”
“You’re impossible,” Sukuna muttered, though a grin tugged at his lips. “Alright, Mr. Efficient. Let me know when those walk-ins show up. I’ll be in the back trying to figure out why we’re friends.”
“I’d guess desperation,” Kento said without missing a beat.
Sukuna froze mid-step, pointing dramatically at Kento. “That’s it! You’re banned from talking to me for the rest of the day.”
“Good,” Kento replied, his tone as flat as ever. “Peace and quiet at last.”
As Sukuna disappeared into the back, Kento allowed himself the faintest hint of a smirk, the kind that would’ve gone unnoticed by anyone who didn’t know him as well as Sukuna did.
As Sukuna made his way to the break room at the back of the shop, the rich aroma of coffee greeted him as he pushed open the door. Sure enough, there was Satoru sprawled across the couch, his long legs stretched out like he owned the place. At the table, Shoko sipped her coffee, nodding along as Yuuji animatedly chattered about Halloween.
“So then,” Yuuji was saying, his eyes wide with excitement, “Toji-nii pretended to be all scared and Megumi and I got extra candy! It was awesome!”
Shoko chuckled, her eyes glinting with amusement as she listened. “Sounds like you guys cleaned up. What did you end up dressing as, Yuuji?”
Yuuji grinned, bouncing in his seat. “I was Frankenstein! And Sukuna-nii was the scientist! We were the best team ever!”
Satoru smirked, leaning back and folding his arms behind his head. “Frankenstein Duo, huh? That’s pretty cute. Anything interesting happen? Tell me, did your ‘mad scientist’ brother do anything spooky, or was he too busy perfecting his natural talent for being a grump?”.
Yuuji shook his head, mid-chew on a piece of candy. “No way! Sukuna-nii was awesome! He scared off some mean kids who were picking on Megumi!”
“Oh?” Shoko asked, her interest piqued. “What happened?
Yuuji, clearly excited, jumped out of his chair to demonstrate. “This kid dressed as a vampire said Megumi’s lion costume was for babies. And Sukuna-nii got all mad and puffed up like this—” Yuuji puffed out his chest and tried to look intimidating, though he just looked adorable. “And he was like, ‘I eat little brats like you for breakfast!’ The kid ran away so fast!”
Shoko raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching as she tried not to laugh. “Sukuna, scaring kids now? What’s next, stealing their candy? You aiming for a new low, or is this just practice?”
Sukuna groaned, pouring himself a cup of coffee before flopping into the chair across from them. “They deserved it. The kid was a little shit and his little ragtag group was no better.”
Satoru snorted, folding his arms behind his head. “Right. And totally not just an excuse to show off in front of Toji.”
Sukuna glared at him over his mug. “Don’t start.”
“Sukuna the noble defender of children,” Satoru drawled, grinning wider. “Saving Megumi one spooky threat at a time. What’s next, hero? Gonna take on a pack of first-graders?”
Sukuna shot him a flat look. “You’re one to talk. Don’t think I’ve forgotten how you convinced those kids last Halloween that you were a ghost. They thought you cursed them.”
Shoko snorted. “Oh, I remember. One of them started crying and Gojo got banned from handing out candy.”
Satoru waved a dismissive hand, wiggling his fingers like he was casting a spell. “What can I say? It was a masterful performance. I’m wasted in this industry. Right, Yuuji?”
Yuuji was already laughing so hard he nearly fell off his chair. “It was so funny! One of them dropped their candy and ran!”
Shoko snorted, shaking her head as she sipped her coffee. “You two are insufferable. Honestly, I’m starting to think Yuuji’s the most mature one here.”
“Tsk,” Sukuna muttered, glancing at Satoru. “At least I'm not trying to haunt children for fun.”
Satoru gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. “I was building character! It’s called commitment, Sukuna. Look it up sometime.”
“Sure,” Sukuna deadpanned, sipping his coffee. “Right after I look up ‘how to tolerate an idiot coworker.’”
Yuuji giggled again, looking between them with pure delight as Shoko shook her head, barely hiding her grin. “Yep. Definitely children."
Sukuna leaned back in his chair, his eyes sliding toward Yuuji, who was happily chatting away with Satoru and Shoko. It was nice seeing him like this—happy, carefree, surrounded by people who cared about him. Yuuji spent a lot of time at the shop, especially on weekends like this when Sukuna had to work. And while it wasn’t the most conventional place for a six-year-old to hang out, Sukuna knew Yuuji was safe and looked after here.
As Sukuna sipped his coffee, Shoko leaned forward with a smirk. “So, Yuuji, you were saying Sukuna was scaring off kids? What else happened? Did he do anything interesting around Toji?”
Yuuji, swinging his legs under the table, nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah! Sukuna-nii and Toji-nii were talking a lot. Megumi and I walked ahead most of the time, but they were way back, laughing and stuff.”
“Ohoho” Satoru grinned like he’d just hit the jackpot. “Oh, this is getting good. Did they do something else”
Sukuna’s lips twitched in annoyance as he shot Satoru a warning look.
“Yeah!” Yuuji chirped. “Toji-nii said Sukuna-nii’s costume was cool and Sukuna-nii said Toji-nii looked good too! Then they just kept talking about stuff.”
Shoko grinned, “Wow, Sukuna. Trying to win the guy over, huh?”
“It was small talk!” Sukuna snapped, his face starting to flush.
Yuuji, still oblivious, added, “Oh, and then when we stopped for a break, Toji-nii said Sukuna-nii was good at handling kids and niichan smiled for a long time after that.”
Shoko burst into laughter, her mug shaking in her hands. “Oh, so now Toji’s impressed with your parenting skills too?”
“Shut up,” Sukuna muttered, his grip tightening on his coffee mug.
“And here I thought you didn’t believe in multitasking,” Satoru teased. “Flirting and handling kids? I’m impressed.”
“I wasn’t flirting,” Sukuna growled, glaring at them.
But Yuuji kept going, his voice cheerful. “Megumi said they always talk like that. He said it’s normal.”
Shoko raised an eyebrow. “Normal? Sukuna, you’re practically his new stepmom at this rate.”
Satoru howled with laughter, nearly falling off the couch.
“Yuuji,” Sukuna said sharply, his voice tight, “go sort your candy. Or count it. Or something.”
“But it’s already sorted,” Yuuji said, confused. “Oh, and Toji-nii said we should do another movie night next time! Sukuna-nii said—”
“That’s enough!” Sukuna screeched, ears red, hands fumbling. Yuuji frowned. “But I didn’t even finish!”
“You finished,” Sukuna said through gritted teeth. “Go bother Kento. He wants to hear all about your new Lego set.”
Yuuji’s face brightened again. “Okay!” And he skipped out of the room, humming to himself.
The second the door shut, Shoko and Satoru exploded into laughter, their voices filling the break room.
“Oh, this is too good,” Shoko wheezed, tears forming in her eyes. “You’re gone, Sukuna. Just tell us when the wedding is.”
“Is it a beach wedding?” Satoru gasped, clutching his sides. “Or, wait—better yet—a safari theme! You can wear matching khakis!”
Sukuna buried his face in his hands, groaning. “I hate both of you.”
“You two done with your gossip session, or what?”, he grumbled, clearing his throat to steer the conversation elsewhere.
Shoko perked up, snapping her fingers as if she’d just remembered something important. “Oh, Sukuna! Don’t forget—next Saturday is Mei Mei’s birthday party. You’re coming this time.”
He rolled his eyes. “Do I really have to? Can’t I just sit this one out?”
Satoru clicked his tongue, shaking his head like a disappointed parent. “Nope. Mei Mei’s already said she’s expecting you. You know how she is—skip, and she’ll hold it over your head for months.”
“Yeah,” Shoko added, leaning back with a smirk. “She’s got a memory like a steel trap, and trust me, you don’t want to deal with the guilt trips.”
Sukuna sighed, rubbing his temples. “I’m not saying I hate the idea. It’s just…” He hesitated, trailing off.
Shoko tilted her head, her tone softening slightly. “Sukuna, we get it. But it’s okay to treat yourself once in a while.”
“Exactly!” Satoru chimed in, his grin wide. “You’ve been working nonstop, taking care of Yuuji like a champ. But Yuuji’s older now and you’ve got options—like Toji. You’re allowed to have a little fun, you know.”
Sukuna narrowed his eyes, stiffening at the mention of Toji. “What does Toji have to do with this?”
“Oh, come on,” Shoko said, rolling her eyes. “You two are practically co-parenting at this point. Just ask him to watch Yuuji for the night. It’s not a big deal.”
Satoru’s grin turned wicked as he leaned closer. “Yeah, Sukuna. What’s the harm? You let Toji babysit, you go to the party, feel the bass, have a few drinks, maybe even—”
“Finish that sentence, and I swear I’ll make you regret it,” Sukuna growled, glaring at him.
Shoko snorted, covering her mouth as Satoru held up his hands in mock surrender. “I’m just saying,” Satoru teased, “Toji wouldn’t mind.”
Sukuna groaned, dragging a hand through his hair. “Fine. I’ll ask him. But if this party turns into some ridiculous circus, I’m bailing.”
“It won’t,” Shoko said, standing up and brushing imaginary dust off her sleeves. “Just show up, relax and have fun.”
Despite himself, Sukuna felt a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. It had been a long time since he’d let loose with his friends. He missed the rhythm of the bass, the energy of the crowd, the way music could drown out all the noise in his head. It wasn’t something he could indulge in often anymore—Yuuji was his priority—but maybe, just this once…
“All right,” he muttered, standing up. “I’ll call Toji. But if he says no, that’s my excuse to stay home.”
Satoru snickered, lounging back with a smug grin. “Oh, Toji won’t say no. You two are so domestic, it’s disgusting.”
Sukuna stepped out of the break room, his phone clutched tightly in his hand. He leaned against the wall, glaring at the screen like it had personally offended him. His thumb hovered over Toji’s contact for a moment before he sighed and pressed the call button. The line rang, each tone amplifying the uncomfortable twist in his gut.
Toji picked up on the third ring, his deep, steady voice cutting through Sukuna’s nerves. “What’s up?”
“Hey,” Sukuna started, shifting his weight awkwardly. “Uh, I’ve got a favor to ask.”
Toji didn’t respond immediately and Sukuna could hear faint background noises—a TV, maybe Megumi asking something in the distance. Toji’s silence wasn’t impatient, just deliberate, the kind of calm that always made Sukuna feel unreasonably on edge.
“It’s next Saturday,” Sukuna continued, scratching the back of his neck. “There’s this gathering I’ve got to go to, and it’s… probably gonna be an all-night thing. Can you watch Yuuji for me?”
There was a brief pause before Toji answered, his tone as casual as ever. “Sure. No problem. What’s the occasion?”
Sukuna relaxed a fraction, though the guilt still gnawed at him. “It’s my friend Mei Mei’s birthday. She’s throwing this party and wants to go to a club—dancing, drinks, the usual scene.”
Toji hummed, the sound low and thoughtful. “Sounds like fun.”
“Yeah, it is,” Sukuna admitted, his voice softening despite himself. “I used to love that kind of thing… before, you know, life got a little more complicated.” He let out a self-deprecating chuckle, trying to brush past the admission.
Toji’s voice took on a gentler tone, laced with understanding. “Complicated doesn’t mean you stop living. You are allowed to take a night off, Sukuna.”
Sukuna swallowed hard, glancing at the floor like Toji could somehow see the guilt on his face through the phone. “It’s just… it’s the whole night, Toji. That’s a lot to ask. I know you’ve already got enough on your plate with Megumi.”
“Relax,” Toji said, the warmth in his voice catching Sukuna off guard. “I’ve got it covered. Yuuji and Megumi will be fine. They’ll probably wear each other out by nine and crash. You don’t have to worry.”
Sukuna rubbed his hand over his face, muttering, “Yeah, but I still feel like an ass for asking.”
“You’re not an ass,” Toji replied firmly. “You’re a good brother. You’re just not superhuman. It’s okay to take a break, Sukuna.”
Sukuna exhaled slowly, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “Thanks. I mean it.”
“Don’t mention it,” Toji said, his voice softening again. “Just make sure you actually enjoy yourself. Don’t spend the whole night standing in the corner.”
“I don’t stand in corners,” Sukuna shot back automatically, though a faint smile tugged at his lips.
“No? What, then—brooding on the dance floor?” Toji teased, a hint of laughter in his tone. “Just go. Dance. Have fun. I’ve got Yuuji.”
Sukuna’s stomach flipped at the words, but he brushed it off. “Fine. But if they’re still awake when I come back, I’m blaming you.”
“Deal,” Toji said with a chuckle. “And hey—don’t feel guilty about it. You deserve a night out.”
“Yeah,” Sukuna muttered, his voice softer now. “Thanks, Toji.”
“Anytime,” Toji replied and before the line disconnected, Sukuna could swear there was something else in his tone—something knowing, maybe even affectionate.
He pocketed his phone and turned back to the break room, only to find Shoko waiting with her arms crossed, her eyebrow raised in smug amusement.
“Well?” she asked, clearly enjoying his discomfort. “What’d he say?”
“He said yes,” Sukuna grumbled, picking up his coffee cup. “So I guess I’m going.”
Shoko’s expression softened, though her smirk didn’t disappear entirely. “You’re excited, aren’t you?”
Sukuna shot her a glare, but it lacked its usual heat. “I’m not—”
“Oh, please,” Shoko interrupted, waving him off. “You love dancing. Don’t act like you’re not already planning what to wear.”
“I don’t—” Sukuna stopped himself, realizing how pointless it was to argue. He sighed, leaning against the counter. “Okay, fine. Maybe I am a little excited. But I still don't like asking him for help.”
Shoko’s smirk softened into something almost reassuring. “You’ve got people who want to help, Sukuna. Let them. Toji’s fine with it and you get a night to be with your friends.”
“You sound like Satoru,” Sukuna muttered, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward.
“Good,” she said, poking his arm. “Because for once, the idiot’s right. Go out, have fun, and don’t spend the whole night feeling guilty. Yuuji’s in good hands.”
Sukuna sighed, but the truth was, his heart was already racing at the thought of the music, the lights, the heat of the dance floor. He missed it more than he’d admit out loud, the way the beat could drown out everything else, the freedom of losing himself in the rhythm.
He’d go—and he’d enjoy it. Even if he had to grumble the whole way there.
“Well?” Satoru walked in, leaning forward like a nosy kid. “What’d he say?”
“He said yes,” Sukuna muttered, grabbing his coffee. “So I guess I’m going.”
Satoru and Shoko exchanged a victorious glance before Satoru patted Sukuna on the back. “Good. Now you can stop pretending you’re too old for fun.”
Sukuna shot him a withering look. “I’m not pretending. I’m just picky about where I spend my time.”
“Sure, sure,” Satoru said, his grin widening. “You’re gonna have a blast, and you know it.”
The week flew by in a blur of work, errands, and last-minute preparations, until the day of Mei Mei’s party finally arrived. Sukuna had taken Yuuji shopping earlier in the week, letting his little brother pick out a gift—a sleek, minimalist silver bracelet that Yuuji insisted was "fancy but cool, like Mei Mei." Sukuna added a bottle of Mei Mei’s favorite wine to the gift bag, rolling his eyes at how over-the-top she always was but knowing she’d appreciate the thought.
By Saturday afternoon, the gifts were wrapped, glittery bows courtesy of an overzealous Yuuji, and Sukuna was standing in front of his mirror, adjusting the straps of his slim black shirt. The deep V-neck showed off just enough of his tattoos and a hint of muscle to leave an impression, paired with tailored leather pants that hugged his legs and boots that gave him a commanding edge. A silver chain rested against his collarbones, glinting faintly in the light. It was just slutty enough to grab attention, but classy enough to keep them guessing.
Yuuji gave him a thumbs-up from the bed, grinning. “You look cool, Sukuna-nii. I love it!” Sukuna smirked, smoothing his hair back before grabbing the gift bag and Yuuji’s overnight bag, feeling more than ready to hit the party and remind everyone just how hot he could be.
Sukuna and Yuuji strolled to the bus stop, the streetlights flickering above them as Sukuna adjusted the gift bag in one hand and Yuuji clutched his frog-shaped backpack in the other. Yuuji’s energy was boundless, practically bouncing with every step. “Do you think Megumi will like my drawing? I worked super hard on it! Oh, and should I bring my frog puzzle? We could play together!”
Sukuna glanced down at him, smirking. “Yeah, and while you’re at it, why not bring your entire room? You know, just in case.”
Yuuji giggled, skipping ahead a few steps before turning to face him. “It’s not that much stuff! Megumi will like it, though, right?”
“Of course he will,” Sukuna replied with a shrug. “You could give that kid a rock, and he’d still say thanks. He’s polite, unlike some little troublemaker I know.”
Yuuji stuck his tongue out, but his grin was unshakable as they reached the bus stop. The bus arrived with a low hiss, and Yuuji darted up the steps, claiming a window seat. Sukuna followed, sitting beside him and resting the gift bag on his lap.
As the bus rumbled through the city streets, Yuuji pressed his face against the glass, pointing out random things. “Look, Sukuna-nii! That store has lights that change colors! And that dog’s wearing a sweater!”
Sukuna snorted, resting his arm on the back of Yuuji’s seat. “You’re like a golden retriever sometimes, you know that?”
Yuuji turned to him with a cheeky grin. “Does that make you the grumpy owner?”
“More like the poor guy stuck chasing after the dog when it runs off,” Sukuna shot back, flicking Yuuji’s forehead lightly.
When they switched to the subway, Yuuji settled into his seat, still buzzing with excitement. He swung his legs, leaning forward as he spoke. “Do you think Toji will let us make popcorn? I can show Megumi how to do the cool spin trick I learned!”
“What, like last time? When you spilled half the bowl all over the floor?” Sukuna raised an eyebrow, smirking when Yuuji gasped in exaggerated offense.
“That was an accident! I’m better now,” Yuuji declared, puffing out his chest. “You’ll see!”
Sukuna shook his head, but the fondness in his expression betrayed him. “Sure you are, kid.”
They arrived at Toji’s stop, the subway hissing to a halt. As they stepped out onto the platform, Yuuji grinned up at Sukuna, his frog-shaped backpack bouncing with every step. “Are you excited for the party?”
Sukuna glanced down at him, his smirk softening. “Yeah, maybe a little. But don’t tell anyone, alright?”
“Your secret’s safe with me!” Yuuji replied dramatically, zipping an imaginary lock across his lips.
Sukuna chuckled, ruffling Yuuji’s hair as they made their way toward Toji’s place. The guilt that had weighed on him earlier about asking for a whole night off felt lighter now. Yuuji was happy, Megumi would be thrilled to hang out, and Toji had everything under control. For once, Sukuna allowed himself to relax. Tonight might actually be fun.
When they arrived at Toji’s house, the door swung open and there he stood—Toji, casual as always, in a fitted t-shirt and jeans, his muscles teasingly outlined by the simple fabric. Sukuna felt his eyes flicker over Toji, who, in comparison to Sukuna’s polished appearance, looked effortlessly... attractive.
“Hey,” Toji greeted, his voice a low, steady rumble that settled in the small space between them, warm and unshakable. Sukuna almost hated how it made his breath hitch—just barely, but enough.
Toji stepped aside, his movements unhurried as Yuuji darted past him, already chattering excitedly about the movie night ahead. The kid’s voice faded into the background as Toji turned back to Sukuna, his gaze settling with an almost lazy confidence that was impossible to ignore.
It started at Sukuna’s face, lingering on the sharp line of his jaw before drifting down—slow and deliberate—over his chest, then lower, grazing every dip and curve like Toji had all the time in the world. By the time their eyes met again, Sukuna felt it—a burn simmering beneath his skin, slow and unmistakable, like embers waiting to catch flame.
Toji didn’t say anything else, didn’t need to. The silence spoke for itself, heavy and charged in a way that made Sukuna want to shift, but he stayed rooted, his smirk sharp enough to mask how thrown he felt.
“You look good.” Toji’s tone was casual, but there was a flicker of something heavier in his eyes. Appreciation, maybe. Or possession.
Sukuna’s lips quirked into a slow, deliberate smile, though the compliment stirred something in him—an annoying flutter that he’d deny to his grave. He didn’t need Toji’s validation, not really. But damn if it didn’t feel good to get it. Especially like that. “Thank you,” he replied, his voice smooth, measured, as though he weren’t fighting the urge to shift under Toji’s attention.
Toji leaned slightly against the doorframe, arms crossed, looking too relaxed for Sukuna’s liking. The way his shirt pulled tight over his chest and biceps wasn’t helping Sukuna stay focused either. He glanced away briefly, pretending to check the time, but it was just to keep himself from staring too long.
“You sure you’re good with Yuuji for the night?” Sukuna asked, tone light but his smirk betraying the hint of amusement bubbling under the surface. Toji’s presence always did that—threw him just enough off balance to make him second-guess if he was still steering the conversation.
Toji raised a brow, the corner of his mouth tugging into a lazy half-smirk. “I’ve handled worse. Kid’s an angel,” he teased, the affection in his voice unmistakable. “Besides, he’s excited. Told me I’m cooler than you, so…”
Sukuna scoffed, though he couldn’t fight the small laugh that escaped. “Did he, now? Traitor.” His eyes flicked up to meet Toji’s again, catching the way the man’s smirk widened. The energy between them shifted, a current of something unspoken sparking in the air. Sukuna felt it settle low in his stomach, a blend of irritation and thrill.
Toji’s gaze softened for a beat, the quiet moment almost disarming, before his usual easy confidence snapped back into place. “You don’t have to worry. I’ve got him. Go have fun.”
Sukuna was about to say something when Toji suddenly moved, stepping closer. Before Sukuna could react, Toji’s hand wrapped around his wrist, tugging him gently but firmly, pulling him toward the wall. Sukuna blinked, completely thrown off by the movement.
“Toji, what the—” Sukuna blinked, caught off guard, his voice trailing off as he found himself backed against the cool surface, Toji’s frame looming closer than he anticipated.
He didn’t pull away. He could’ve, but he didn’t.
Sukuna’s breath stilled in his throat as Toji leaned in, slow and deliberate, until the space between them evaporated entirely. He didn’t speak, didn’t rush, just moved close enough that Sukuna felt the heat radiating off him like a furnace. The first brush of Toji’s lips against his neck was featherlight, teasing—so soft that it left Sukuna’s skin tingling, shivers rippling down his spine. Toji’s scent hit him next: woodsy, faintly spiced, and warm in a way that curled low in Sukuna’s chest like smoke.
His pulse roared in his ears as Toji hovered at the hollow of his throat, so close that Sukuna swore he could feel his own heartbeat beneath his skin, thrumming wildly like it was trying to escape.
“Toji—” Sukuna started, but the word barely escaped, a breathless whisper caught halfway in his throat.
Toji didn’t answer. He just hummed low, a dark, rumbling sound that vibrated against Sukuna’s neck before his mouth pressed down again, firmer this time. Toji’s lips dragged along the column of Sukuna’s neck—kissing, sucking, tasting—as if he were memorizing every inch. Each touch was deliberate, lingering long enough to leave Sukuna’s nerves sparking and his breath uneven.
Sukuna’s head tilted back against the wall before he could stop himself, baring his neck without thinking. The faint scrape of Toji’s stubble against his skin sent a jolt of sparks skittering through Sukuna’s body. Then Toji bit down—sharp and sudden, just enough to sting—drawing a startled gasp from Sukuna. Before the ache could settle, Toji’s tongue followed, slow and wet, soothing the spot with a deliberate care that made Sukuna moan.
“Fuck...” Sukuna exhaled shakily, the curse spilling from his lips before he could stop it. His fingers twitched at his sides, torn between grabbing Toji and pushing him away, but the heat pooling low in his stomach made it hard to decide.
“You’re shaking,” Toji murmured, his voice low and rough, the words brushing against Sukuna’s neck like a caress. “Can’t handle a little attention?”
“Toji, you’re a—shit...” Sukuna tried to bite back, but his voice broke as Toji’s lips found a sensitive patch of skin just below his ear. He lingered there, until Sukuna’s knees threatened to buckle.
Toji smirked against his skin, the bastard pleased with himself, before he latched onto a new spot along Sukuna’s jawline. He sucked harder this time, enough that Sukuna swore he could feel the mark forming—hot and pulsing—as his breath hitched sharply. The sound that escaped him, a mix of a groan and a gasp, made Toji pause briefly, as if savoring Sukuna’s unraveling.
Sukuna barely had time to gather himself before Toji moved again, his hands sliding down to Sukuna’s waist. Without warning, Sukuna was lifted clean off the ground. His breath caught in his throat as Toji’s strong grip settled around his thighs, holding him effortlessly as his back hit the cool wall. Sukuna’s legs wrapped instinctively around Toji’s hips, locking there like it was the most natural thing in the world.
The realization hit harder than it should have, a rush of heat curling low in Sukuna’s stomach. Fuck, that’s hot. He was no lightweight, all muscle and bulk, and yet Toji handled him like it was nothing. The thought made Sukuna’s pulse stutter, his fingers instinctively grabbing at Toji’s shoulders, digging in for balance.
“Toji—fuck,” Sukuna hissed, his voice cracking under the weight of the heat surging through him. The shift in position made everything better worse because now there was no escape. Every point of contact felt intensified: the solid press of Toji’s chest, the rough dig of his fingers against Sukuna’s thighs and worst of all, the slow, deliberate grind of Toji’s hips.
Sukuna bit back a groan, fingers flying to Toji’s shoulders and clenching tight, the fabric of his shirt twisting beneath Sukuna’s grip. Toji didn’t let up. His mouth found the base of Sukuna’s throat—a tender, unmarked spot—and latched on again. He sucked deep, the kind of pressure that made Sukuna’s body jolt, his breath hitching audibly, hips snapping forward.
“You’re a mess already,” Toji muttered, voice low and gravelly, the words sending shivers down Sukuna’s spine. “Didn’t think you’d be this easy to tease.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Sukuna shot back, but it came out weak, because Toji was still moving. The heat coursing through him made his chest feel tight, his face flushed as Toji continued his slow assault. Another bite, another kiss—Toji leaving hickeys like a roadmap across his throat, marking him up piece by piece. Each one throbbed faintly, alive under his skin.
Sukuna’s breathing grew shallow, ragged, his body thrumming with tension as Toji ground against him again and again. The friction sent sparks through Sukuna, building heat that threatened to swallow him whole. His forehead fell against Toji’s shoulder, his face hidden as he fought to keep himself together, his thighs tightening instinctively around Toji’s waist.
“You’re gonna make me late,” Sukuna managed, though the words tumbled out in a groan, far more vulnerable than he wanted. The usual bite to his voice was gone, stripped away entirely.
“Good.” Toji’s voice was a quiet murmur, his breath fanning against Sukuna’s ear. “Let them wait.”
When Toji finally slowed, his lips softened, pressing a few lingering kisses over the bruises he’d left behind, as though soothing them. Sukuna’s body trembled with the aftershocks, heat pulsing through him like an echo of everything Toji had done.
Toji leaned back just enough to meet Sukuna’s dazed, half-lidded gaze, his thumb brushing Sukuna’s jawline in a featherlight touch. “Look at you,” he murmured, voice rich and dripping with satisfaction.
Sukuna glared weakly, his chest still heaving, but there was no hiding the flush on his face or the way his body hummed with leftover tension. His neck throbbed, each hickey warm and tender, the marks impossible to ignore.
Toji slowly set him down, steadying him when his knees wobbled beneath him. Sukuna swayed, breathless, every inch of him sensitive and alive.
“Now you can go,” Toji said, far too smug for Sukuna’s liking. His hand lingered on Sukuna’s neck for one last, deliberate brush of his thumb over a bruise.
“You’re a fucking menace,” Sukuna muttered, voice rough and raw, though he couldn’t quite stop the shaky breath that followed.
Toji grinned, dark and pleased with himself, watching Sukuna as if he’d won some unspoken game.
As Sukuna turned to leave, his hand brushed absently over his neck, the marks throbbing in tandem with the hard ache of his dick—a vivid reminder of the heat still simmering through his body. And from the way Toji watched him go, eyes dark and smug, Sukuna knew damn well the bastard was proud of it.
Sukuna didn’t dare look back.
Instead, he cleared his throat, forcing his voice to sound casual as he shouted down the hallway. “Bye, Yuuji! Megumi!”
A faint “Bye, Sukuna-nii!” rang out from inside, followed by Megumi’s quieter mumble. Sukuna didn’t linger. He practically bolted out the door, pulling his collar higher against the cold evening air in a futile attempt to cover the bruises peppering his neck.
The chill was sharp, biting through the heat still clinging to his skin and Sukuna cursed under his breath. He pulled his phone from his pocket, checking the time. Shit. He was late. Mei Mei was going to kill him.
By the time he stepped into the bar, Sukuna had composed himself—or at least, he looked it. He strode inside with the kind of swagger that only came from practiced confidence, shoulders back, chin high, exuding his usual aura of unbothered cool. Outwardly, he looked every bit the collected version of himself, but the burn of Toji’s marks on his neck and the lingering heat pooling low in his stomach were reminders he couldn’t quite shake.
The bar was dimly lit, all warm golden glows and shadows, the steady thrum of music vibrating faintly underfoot. It was packed, but not overwhelming, the chatter of people blending into a low hum. Sukuna adjusted the small gift bag in his hand—the present he and Yuuji had picked out for Mei Mei—and scanned the room.
His friends were already there, scattered around a large booth near the back. As soon as he approached, he spotted Satoru waving obnoxiously, grinning from ear to ear. Beside him, Uraume was deep in conversation with Kento, while Shoko, Utahime and Mei Mei sipped their drinks, looking relaxed.
Sukuna smirked, making his way over, but he hadn’t even reached the booth before Satoru’s sharp eyes zeroed in on his neck. That damned grin grew even wider as Sukuna got closer.
“Well, well, well,” Satoru drawled, pushing his sunglasses up and leaning over the table, his eyes locked on the hickeys like a predator spotting prey. “Look who’s got a few extra accessories tonight.”
Sukuna scoffed, trying to brush it off as he slid into the booth, but the rest of the group was quick to catch on. Shoko glanced over, her cigarette halfway to her lips, eyes glinting with amusement as she blew out a slow stream of smoke.
“Ohhh shit,” she smirked, eyes flicking between Sukuna’s neck and his face. “Someone had some fun before coming out, huh?”
Uraume, sitting directly across from him, raised an eyebrow, their expression neutral but a small, knowing smirk tugged at the corner of their lips. “Hickeys? Really? How juvenile.”
“Shut up,” Sukuna muttered, leaning back in his seat, but there was no stopping the teasing now.
Uraume, usually quiet, let out a small laugh. “Who’s the lucky one?”
Sukuna shot them a look, half-warning, half-amused. “Mind your business, Uraume.”
“Lucky one, huh?” Satoru mused, swirling the drink in his hand, his gaze flicking over the marks again. “Looks like someone left a pretty solid claim.”
“You look a little… ruffled, Sukuna,” Utahime chimed in, grinning as she leaned forward on the table, resting her chin in her hands. “Whoever it was, they didn’t hold back, did they?”
Sukuna grumbled, shifting in his seat. He tried to act nonchalant, but the heat rising to his face betrayed him.
Mei Mei, ever the composed one, merely sipped her drink and said, “Well, it seems someone knows how to leave an impression.”
Sukuna shot his friends a sharp look, though it lacked any real bite. “Can we change the subject now?”
“Nope,” Satoru chimed in, his grin growing impossibly wider. “Your Count Thrustula left you looking like a chew toy, and after all your whining about how you weren’t getting any, I think I’ve earned the right to rub it in. Hell, I should be calling myself ‘Gojo-sensei’ for the advice that finally got you folded in half.”
Sukuna groaned, but there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes as the group continued to rib him. Despite their teasing, it felt good to be around them, the familiar banter making the whole situation less mortifying than it should’ve been.
“Here.” Sukuna dropped the small gift bag onto the table in front of Mei Mei as he slid into the booth, leaning back with practiced nonchalance. “Happy birthday.”
Mei Mei raised a perfectly arched brow, her sharp gaze flicking up to Sukuna before she plucked the bag off the table. “Late and unceremonious. You’re really spoiling me, Sukuna,” she teased, her voice laced with dry amusement.
“Just open it,” Sukuna muttered, though the corner of his mouth twitched.
Mei Mei didn’t need to be told twice. She pulled out the small, elegantly wrapped box first, setting it aside with a pleased hum before her attention caught on the colorful card tucked into the bag. Sukuna watched as she slid it out, unfolding it carefully.
The hand-drawn front—clumsy but endearing—featured a stick-figure version of Mei Mei holding what looked like a katana, surrounded by an explosion of hearts and stars. “Happy Birthday Miss Mei Mei!!!” was written in bright, uneven letters across the top, clearly Yuuji’s handiwork.
For a beat, Mei Mei was silent, her expression unreadable. Then, to Sukuna’s surprise, her face broke into a genuine, almost affectionate smile. “Did Yuuji make this?”
Sukuna shrugged, feigning disinterest. “Yeah. Kid insisted.”
Mei Mei turned the card around for the others to see, clearly delighted. “This is adorable. Look at me—I’ve never been drawn so majestically.”
Shoko leaned over, snorting as she took in the artwork. “Yuuji’s got talent. You look ten feet tall with that sword.”
“Future masterpiece,” Satoru chimed in dramatically. “Clearly, the kid has an eye for greatness.”
Mei Mei tucked the card carefully back into the bag, her smile lingering as she glanced at Sukuna. “Tell him I love it. He’s got better taste than you, clearly.”
Sukuna rolled his eyes, but there was no hiding the way his lips curled into a small, reluctant smile. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll let him know.”
Eventually, the conversation shifted and they all relaxed into drinks and casual conversation. The bar was buzzing and Sukuna ordered himself a strong drink, savoring the burn of the alcohol as it slid down his throat. Satoru kept shooting him knowing looks, but thankfully, the teasing had simmered down—at least for now.
As the night wore on, the energy of the group picked up. After a few more rounds, Shoko downed the last of her drink and grinned.
“Alright, enough sitting around,” she said, her voice firm. “Let’s move this party to the club.”
There was a chorus of agreement and the group began to gather their things, laughing and chatting as they stood to leave. Sukuna finished the last of his drink, rolling his shoulders as they made their way out of the bar and down the street to the nearby club.
The club was packed, bodies moving to the rhythm of the heavy bass that thumped through the speakers. The lights flashed in sync with the beat, casting everyone in a flickering glow. Sukuna was in his element. With the music pulsing around him, he easily fell into the rhythm, moving with a confidence that was impossible to miss. His body swayed to the beat, his movements fluid, the fabric of his shirt clinging to his skin from the heat of the crowd. He wasn’t showing off, not exactly, but he knew he looked good. It was a fact, not arrogance.
Shoko and Mei Mei danced nearby, Satoru not far off and even Utahime had found her groove somewhere between them all. Every now and then, Sukuna would dance closer to one of them, exchanging playful smiles, leaning in to shout something over the music, before spinning away.
It wasn’t until they all took a break and gathered by the bar that the teasing started up again. Sukuna had just downed a shot, his body still buzzing from the dancing, when Satoru leaned in, an infuriating grin spreading across his face.
“So...” Satoru began, his voice full of mischief, “You gonna tell us more about The Sculpted Snack?”
Sukuna rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help the smirk tugging at his lips. “What’s there to tell?”
“Oh, come on,” Shoko jumped in, nudging him with her elbow. “Don’t act coy. A few months ago, you were obsessed with cracking Toji’s walls, and now…” She gestured toward his neck, cigarette in hand, smirk sharp. “Looks like you’ve made some serious progress.”
“Yeah, you got your hot Kneel Commander now,” Satoru added, wagging his eyebrows. “So, how’s it feel? Ridin’ that dick till hes making you cry? Does he tell you how pretty you look?”
Sukuna scoffed, flipping them both off. “You’re disgusting,” he shot back, though his smirk never faltered. He leaned back against the bar, shaking his head. “And for the record, nothing like that happened.”
Satoru blinked, genuinely surprised. “Wait… seriously? No fucking?”
“Nope,” Sukuna said, popping the ‘p’ for emphasis.
“Then what?” Shoko asked, raising an eyebrow, clearly not expecting that answer.
Sukuna shrugged, running a hand through his hair. “Nothing really sexual, beside teasing.”
Satoru’s jaw dropped. “How the hell have you both so much tension and not fuck?”
Shoko snorted, taking another drag from her cigarette. “Honestly, I’m impressed. I would have jumped his bones already.”
Sukuna rolled his eyes. “It’s not about that. We’re taking our time.”
“You?” Satoru laughed, nearly choking on his drink. “Taking your time? You, the guy who never has patience for anything?”
“Hey, when it’s worth it, I can wait,” Sukuna shot back. The truth was, he felt content. As much as being around Toji made him want to tear the guy’s clothes off sometimes, the slow pace felt right. It wasn’t rushed and that was fine by him. He liked how things were going—steady, comfortable with some unexpected treats.
Shoko smirked, leaning in closer. “You’re telling me you’re not dying to jump that man’s bones?”
“Oh, I am,” Sukuna admitted with a chuckle. “But it’s not just that. We’ve got a good thing going. Yuuji and Megumi are good for each other. They are like twins, always together. I’m not gonna mess it up by rushing into shit.”
Satoru waved his hand, dismissing the seriousness. “Yeah, yeah, you’re deep and mature now. Whatever. I just can’t believe you haven’t tapped that yet.”
“Look at this,” Shoko mused, shaking her head with a grin. “Sukuna’s going soft for a guy.”
Satoru nearly spat out his drink, laughing. “Holy shit. The world’s ending.”
“Shut up,” Sukuna muttered, though there was no bite to it. In fact, he looked more relaxed than ever, even as they teased him.
They continued drinking and teasing, the night growing wilder as the hours passed. They’d dance, they’d drink and then they’d dance again. Sukuna was having the time of his life, laughing and joking with his friends, letting loose like he hadn’t in ages. The bass thumped through his body, the alcohol making him feel light, free.
But after 3 a.m., the night started to catch up with him. Sukuna wasn’t used to staying out this late anymore, not since taking care of Yuuji. His body was tired, the weight of the evening settling into his bones and as much as he hated to admit it, he missed his little brother.
Leaning against the bar, Sukuna pulled out his phone, idly scrolling through his messages. Without thinking too much about it, he shot off a quick text to Toji.
You awake?
A minute later, his phone buzzed.
Yeah. How’s it going?
Sukuna smiled to himself, typing back quickly.
Fun, but I’m tired. Guess I’m turning into a geezer. Must be from spending too much time with you. Thinking about heading home soon.
Toji’s reply came almost instantly.
Come here instead. You can crash here.
The warmth that spread through Sukuna’s chest at those words was immediate. It wasn’t flashy, it wasn’t romantic in a traditional sense, but it made Sukuna feel… wanted. And that was enough.
You sure? Don’t wanna wake you up when I get there.
I’m up. Just come over.
Sukuna stared at the screen for a second, feeling that familiar flutter in his chest. It wasn’t dramatic or over-the-top, but Toji’s calm, steady presence always had a way of grounding him. He felt secure in that.
Okay, on my way.
With a soft sigh, Sukuna pocketed his phone and turned back to his friends.
“I’m out,” Sukuna announced, grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair.
“What, already?” Satoru teased. “Big bad Sukuna can’t keep up anymore? You turning into an old man now?”
Sukuna flipped him off, pulling his jacket on. “Some of us have lives to get back to.”
Shoko raised an eyebrow, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Can’t keep someone waiting too long, can you?”
Sukuna smirked. “Maybe I am.”
Satoru grinned, waving him off. “Go get your Daddy Long Stroke, Sukuna.”
With a roll of his eyes, Sukuna said his goodbyes and headed out of the club, the cool night air hitting him as soon as he stepped outside. The streets were quieter now, the energy of the night starting to wind down, but Sukuna felt something peaceful settle over him as he made his way to Toji’s place.
Once he reached the familiar building, Sukuna pulled out his phone, shooting off a quick text.
Standing at your door.
There was no reply, but a few seconds later, the door swung open, revealing Toji.
Dressed in a plain shirt and low-slung sweatpants, he looked effortlessly relaxed, his posture easy but unmistakably attentive. His gaze softened the moment it landed on Sukuna, the faint upturn of his lips saying more than words ever could. Without a word, Toji stepped aside, giving Sukuna space to enter.
The moment Sukuna stepped inside, the familiar scent of Toji’s home hit him—clean, woodsy, and unmistakably him. It settled over Sukuna like a balm, the quiet comfort easing the lingering tension in his shoulders as the door clicked shut behind him.
“You look dead on your feet,” Toji said, his voice low and teasing, though there was an undeniable warmth behind the words.
Sukuna gave a tired smirk, shrugging out of his jacket and hanging it by the door. “Long night,” he muttered, running a hand through his messy pink hair. “You sure you’re okay with me crashing here?”
Toji shook his head, stepping closer until he was right in front of Sukuna, their bodies almost touching. “Stop asking that like it’s a problem. You belong here.” His voice was steady, reassuring.
Sukuna’s heart did that annoying little flutter again and he found himself momentarily lost in Toji’s dark, steady gaze. But instead of letting the moment linger too long, Toji clapped a hand gently on Sukuna’s shoulder and guided him toward the bedroom.
“Come on,” Toji said. “Let’s get you out of those clothes. You look like you need some sleep.”
Sukuna followed Toji into his room, where Toji handed him a clean pair of sweats and a loose t-shirt. Sukuna snorted as he took them, holding up the shirt. “You know this is gonna be huge on me, right?”
Toji smirked, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “You look good in it, though.”
Sukuna rolled his eyes but smiled softly as he slipped into the bathroom to change. The warmth of the house, combined with the comforting domesticity of it all, wrapped around him like a blanket. After changing into the oversized sleep clothes, he caught his reflection in the bathroom mirror—hair tousled, face a little flushed from the alcohol and Toji's gifts still adorning his throat like a necklace.
He grabbed his toothbrush from the little cup on the sink—using the toothbrush that he left in Toji’s bathroom. It had been there for a while, ever since those sleepovers with the kids started happening more frequently. Sukuna brushed his teeth and washed his face, the sound of the running water blending with the soft hum of the night. When he finished, he stepped out of the bathroom, feeling a strange but pleasant sense of home wash over him.
When Sukuna stepped back into the bedroom, Toji was already in bed, propped up against the headboard. The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast warm light over him, accentuating the strong lines of his jaw and the easy way he held himself. He looked up as Sukuna approached, his gaze lingering—steady, unhurried—in a way that made Sukuna’s chest tighten, not with nerves, but with something deeper, something that settled warm and certain inside him.
Sukuna tossed his clothes into the hamper without ceremony, the soft rustle of fabric the only sound in the room. The air felt calmer here, the lingering weight of the evening fading with every step he took toward the bed. He slid under the blankets, the cool sheets brushing against his skin before Toji’s arm reached out instinctively. Without hesitation, Toji pulled him close, Sukuna’s head finding its place against his chest.
The steady thrum of Toji’s heartbeat was a soothing rhythm, a quiet anchor that seemed to dissolve the last bit of tension in Sukuna’s body. He melted into the warmth radiating from Toji, their bodies fitting together seamlessly, as though this had always been where Sukuna was meant to be.
Toji’s hand began to move, sliding up and down Sukuna’s arm in slow, absentminded strokes—gentle, deliberate, and grounding. The gesture wasn’t overbearing, just a quiet reassurance, and Sukuna let out a long breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. The teasing, the laughter, the chaos of the night—all of it melted away as Toji’s presence seeped into him, steady and warm.
“Better?” Toji’s voice broke the silence, soft and low, his breath grazing Sukuna’s hair.
“Yeah,” Sukuna mumbled, eyelids growing heavier by the second. “Much better.”
The room settled into a peaceful hush, broken only by the faint hum of the lamp and the gentle rhythm of their breathing. Sukuna let himself drift for a moment, eyes half-closed, the world beyond the room fading to nothing. Here, in this quiet space, the weight of reality didn’t exist—just Toji, just warmth, just them.
After a beat, Sukuna shifted slightly, tilting his head to look up. Toji’s face was soft in the lamplight, the sharp angles of his features gentled by shadow. Sukuna let his gaze linger longer than he intended, his chest tightening with something unspoken. Without thinking too much, he leaned up and pressed his lips to Toji’s.
The kiss was soft at first, a brush of warmth, tentative in its gentleness. Toji didn’t rush, didn’t press—he simply kissed Sukuna back, his lips slow and steady, as though they had all the time in the world. Sukuna lingered, deepening it ever so slightly, the tension of the day unraveling with every quiet second that passed.
Toji’s hand slid up to the nape of Sukuna’s neck, his fingers threading through his hair with a tenderness that made Sukuna’s heart stutter. The kiss grew deeper, not in urgency, but in intent—soft and intimate, the kind of closeness that said more than words ever could. Sukuna pressed instinctively closer, the warmth between them building, a steady ember rather than a flame.
When they finally pulled back, Sukuna’s breath came a little uneven, his heart still racing faintly in his chest. Toji didn’t pull his hand away, his thumb brushing slow, soothing circles against Sukuna’s neck. For a moment, their foreheads rested together, the space between them filled with a quiet understanding that didn’t need to be spoken.
Sukuna let out a soft, contented sigh, the corners of his lips tugging into the smallest, most genuine of smiles. Without another word, he settled back down, curling against Toji’s chest once more as the lingering warmth of the kiss wrapped around him like a blanket.
“Night, Toji,” he murmured, voice soft and full of a quiet trust he wasn’t used to sharing.
“Night,” Toji replied, his voice equally low, rich and steady in the darkness.
Toji’s hand resumed its gentle strokes along Sukuna’s arm, the repetitive motion calming in a way Sukuna hadn’t known he needed. His eyes fluttered shut as the soft rhythm of Toji’s breathing and the warmth of his embrace lulled him into drowsiness.
There, wrapped up in Toji’s arms, the outside world ceased to matter. It was just the quiet intimacy of the moment, the glow of the room fading to shadow, and the deep sense of belonging that came with Toji’s steady presence.
For Sukuna, it was more than enough. It was home.