Work Text:
When you are a student of the college teaching how not to get yourself killed fighting evil curses, the door opening in the darkness of the night is not a good sign.
The rule does not apply to Geto Suguru.
For one, he's fucking strong, basically second to none, with some partial exception to one talented lucky bastard who won the genetic lottery.
Add to that Suguru is always cautious, which means that no sneaky attack is a real threat to him. Plus, he is a light sleeper so the attack would not be so sneaky anyway.
But the last and the main reason is that Suguru has been half expecting this to happen. Geto can't see in the darkness that well, but he doesn't really need to. He also doesn't bother to turn the nightstand lamp on, because the above-mentioned talented bastard can walk around with his eyes literally closed.
That's the shiny glorious side of Satoru Gojo that everyone sees, haters and admirers alike.
There is the other side as well, which is not so dazzling, and not many people are allowed to know about it because this knowledge can easily be used to hurt Satoru.
The backlash of Gojo’s talents is him being oversensitive most of the time, and especially prone to being much more exhausted from bright light than a normal person would be, like today, when he got his glasses broken. And as if the sun in Japan was not excruciating enough, they still had to fight for a few hours after that.
So no wonder that the moment they got back, Gojo unsteadily alloted to his room, skipping both shower (happens sometimes) and dinner (super abnormal), and Geto sighed, guessing already where it all was going.
When Gojo was worn out to that extent, he got cold all the time because of the low levels of energy. And he could not fall asleep, getting into zombie mode instead, ending up without much-needed rest. So at some point in the past, an exhausted Satoru just started showing up in Suguru’s room in the middle of the night, barely awake, seeking some warmth to get him to sleep.
Suguru chooses not to open his eyes, too exhausted after the mission and sleepy himself, so he just moves backwards in the bed a bit and lifts the blanket. He hears light footsteps, and then feels a familiar weight of his friend, slipping under the covers. Suguru gets him close and wraps his arms around him, and, dear gods, Satoru feels like he was standing outside in winter for hours, how the hell the human body is able to get its temperature that low. Satoru lets out a mewling sound, making a weak attempt to squeeze his ice-cold feet under Surugu's ankles. He is shivering from energy loss and exhaustion so hard that the bed is rocking like it's a light level 2 earthquake. Unfortunately, this is nothing that Geto is unfamiliar with.
Talking to Satoru in this state is useless, the guy is literally lethargic, but Geto finds himself softly muttering anyway:
- Hey. Hey, it's okay... I got you.
Still half asleep, Suguru slides one hand to the base of the neck, pressing his palm there. He is so used to it by now, he does not even have to wake up, so he just imagines his energy slowly flowing from his hand into Satoru's body, and it triggers the process, with the palm instantly getting hotter like a charger sending electricity to the phone.
Suguru yawns and waits until Satoru's shivers are alleviated and then allows his mind to slowly drift away. He still registers though that Satoru is finally relaxing and getting warmer, and there is a satisfied sigh that Satoru lets out into his chest, sinking into his friend's arms even more. Good.
Should it be weird to have another guy in his bed, wearing only a t-shirt and underwear, let alone holding and comforting him? Maybe. Probably.
But it's not.
After all the shit they've seen and been through, none of them care anymore.
Geto does not like that stupid "Throughout Heaven and Earth" quote in the classroom, that every second yankee group uses a slogan for uniforms and motorcycle stickers. He thinks that it should have the true rule of this school written in capital letters: "Do whatever the hell will keep you alive".
If Gojo needs to come in a zombie state to Suguru's bed and cling to him like a baby koala to restore his energy quickly - that's fine. Especially on a day when Gojo took a hit for Suguru, stupid idiot.
Next time Satoru gets that tired Suguru will just drag him along to his room from the start, the hell with the Strongest idiot’s pride.
For now, they just need to rest, and it feels like Gojo is finally asleep, hopefully not drooling into Suguru’s t-shirt this time. It is all routine and familiar, and it feels good and safe.
Until it is not.
Suddenly there is something that triggers the awareness, and Suguru is pulled out from his sleep, tense and alert, listening to the darkness around him.
Something is not right.
Gojo is still there, with his back now pressed against Suguru's chest, and he’s alive, great news, and he also seemed to be soundly asleep. But Satoru’s breathing is way too quick, and he's lightly moaning under each breath like he's in pain.
Fully awake now, Suguru reaches across Satoru's shoulder, touching the slightly wet forehead with his palm. He is careful not to wake up Satoru, even though the previous experience tells that even shaking Satoru by his shoulders with both hands would have very little effect in his current state.
Well, so, there is a light fever, but it does not seem to be all that bad. Geto calms down a little, and Gojo settles down as well under his touch, rubbing the forehead into Suguru’s palm with a sigh of appreciation, and then Satoru rolls back to face Suguru. Now his full body is pressed against Suguru, with a still cold nose buried in Suguru's neck, and soft white strands touching his cheek, smelling like the afternoon sun in a wooden room.
And, to Suguru’s horror, that’s not the only part of Gojo’s mostly unconscious body touching him.
Suguru does not have a Six Eyes vision to see what’s under the covers, but he feels it way too well - the thing’s hot, and somewhat stiff, and it’s touching his belly where his t-shirt has ridden up, through only a thin layer of underwear.
For a second Geto’s plan is jumping straight back to shaking by shoulders, until Satoru whimpers plaintively in his sleep, and buckles his hips. And again. And he’s obviously getting fully hard, and there is now a wet spot on the cloth separating them.
Surprisingly, Geto does not find it repulsive or disgusting. He’s somewhat sympathetic, but also dying of embarrassment and curiosity, and there is also that obscure, hungry feeling stirring inside of him.
Satoru’s grinding becomes faster, bolder, and Suguru is just about to move back a little, because he needs air, and it’s getting harder to breathe, when Gojo is throwing one of his freakingly long legs over Suguru’s hip, pinning him in place.
Oh, mother of all gods, sweet Izanami-no-Mikoto.
Unlucky for Suguru, Satoru is ignorant of all the prayers, moving his hips again, with enough force for his briefs to roll down just so that the hot, oh, so hot head of his cock slides out of the hem and is now leaving wet traces across Suguru’s clenching stomach. Satoru’s breath is even hotter, it will surely leave burns on Suguru’s skin, or maybe that goes for dry parted lips, touching his collarbone.
Suguru bites his own lip to keep down the moan of despair. He cannot resist the urge any longer, his own hardening cock is forcing him to make all the bad choices at once. So Sutugu squeezes a hand in between their bodies, and Satoru’s hot cock slides along his palm a few times, before Suguru slowly but firmly wraps the fingers around the velvety and hot shaft, while the part of his mind shrieks in horror “whatthehellamidoing?!?”.
The mewling sound Satoru responds with sends sweat chills down his own spine, and Satoru’s hip,
vigorously rubbing Suguru’s cock makes it so much worse. Or better. He’s not sure any longer.
Gojo’s cock feels so foreign in his hand, and so nice, and the size fits his palm perfectly, as if it was created for Suguru. The air in the room is thick now, and it smells of sex, sweat and that dusty sun again - the latest probably due to Suguru’s nose being buried into the top of Gojo’s head.
Satoru is louder now, the sounds are muffled by Suguru’s crook of the neck, and each small moan sends shivers right into Geto’s crotch. Their breathing is in perfect sync, fast and shallow, and Surugu moves his hand up and down that velvety skin, tracing the veins, feeling his orgasm building up, aching for release.
Until Satoru moans “Suguru~u…” under his breath, and Geto freezes in place, the hand stops its movement, at which Gojo lets out an unsatisfied sob.
Suguru’s head is light and empty, and he just cannot process what’s happening any longer, except for one thought that keeps him occupied.
Satoru is moaning his name in his wet dream.
Said Satoru stirs, obviously unhappy with the sudden lack of attention, and then Suguru realises that Gojo is no longer asleep.
His eyes are still cloudy from sleep and tiredness, and they give off a dim blueish glow, the fucking nightlight.
- Suguru?
Yeah.
Well.
Good luck explaining to your best friend, why is he waking up with his dick in your hand.
Is it a good moment to unwrap his fingers, or will it bring more attention to the problem at hand… so to speak?
- Eeerhh…
Satoru blinks in surprise at his unintelligent remark, and then something that looks like realisation crosses his face, cheeks turning one shade of red brighter.
Their eyes meet, and there is a part of Suguru that really wants to scream, because how is it legal to look that beautiful, with hair messy from all the activities, lips dry and parted, white lashes trembling.
Fuck, Suguru is doomed, and Satoru Gojo will officially be the death of him.
- So, - says Satoru with a smirk, as he rolls his hips right into the ring of Surug’s fingers, arrogant jerk. - Is that what they call a helping hand? - his laugh is quiet and he’s still blushing, but back to being his usual self.
Suguru jerks his hand away, and to his surprise and mild disappointment Satoru lets him. But when he tries to move away himself, he feels the heel pressing into his lower back with Satoru’s leg still being over his own. Satoru then rolls his hip again, right along the Geto’s cock, and purrs to the gasp Surugu barely registers as his own.
He then feels how cold fingers slide across his stomach, pulling down the cloth and touching his hot flesh, and Geto yelps and shivers.
- What are… you doing? - his voice slips into the moan against his will.
- I think it should be pretty obvious even for you what I am doing, - the mock politeness in Satoru’s hoarse voice is irritating.
He should say no, he really should. Yet, he cannot. Because Satoru.
Suguru’s sigh indicates his reluctant surrender clear enough for Satoru to press his freaking cock against him, squeezing and stroking them together. The combination of hot flesh and cold fingers is devastating, and Suguru gasps, and damn he actually sees the smirk on Satoru’s face getting bigger.
It’s not a competition, or it wasn’t, but this is Satoru being absolutely unbearable, and who would judge Suguru’s efforts to keep Satoru at bay, along with fruitless so far efforts make him behave? But the naked truth is, Suguru just cannot keep his hands to himself. So he moves the blanket aside and runs the palm along the hip of that leg kindly provided, first the outer part, and then the inner part, and Satoru is grumbling now, suspicious, but he also gulps and breathes faster again, hand movement becoming erratic. Suguru just returns the polite smile, before sliding his hand all the way between Satoru’s legs and rubbing a certain part of flesh there, which contracts and flutters under his touch.
Next second Suguru yelps, because Gojo bites him, HARD, to muffle his cry as he comes, shuddering and sobbing, and Suguru holds him through it, soothing and whispering reassuring words for the second time this night. Satoru finally relaxes and flops onto his spine, panting and staring at the ceiling. There is a dull shine of wetness on his eyelashes, and there is also a small bloody wound on his lower lip, as apparently Surugu was not the only one being bitten. Suguru cannot resist the urge, he moves to hover over Gojo and lowers himself to kiss and lick the wound, drinking the coppery taste, making Satoru shudder again, and it takes only a few quick moves for Suguru to spot the flat stomach beneath him with heavy white drops, feeling almost drunk of all that just happened.
The first thing Suguru is determined to do when he finally is back on Earth from the blissful Abyss is to properly talk to Satoru and maybe even apologize to him.
- Satoru, - he starts, and immediately cuts himself off.
Because Satoru is out like a light, sleeping peacefully, and leaving Suguru to clean all the mess, as usual, and even to pull back his freaking underwear!
In the end, Satoru crawls back into his arms in his sleep, and Suguru decides to get some rest as well, postponing all the talks until tomorrow.
Only to discover later on in the morning that Satoru does not remember a fucking thing about what happened last night, the jerk. This, however, is something Suguru is very keen on figuring out.