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Satoru wasn’t an easily angered guy. Easily irritated? Sometimes. Easily deflated? Often. He had the kind of personality, loud and bright and eccentric, that made the wrong kind of people want to knock the wind out of his sails. He was perky and charismatic enough to recover quickly, although the feeling did get to him sometimes.
Even that didn’t compare to the sensations he felt currently, however; his heart pounded, his stomach tightened, his veins itched beneath his fucking skin.
He wasn’t mad. He was goddamned furious.
Years ago, he had been on track to med school, but a science elective he took for fun his sophomore year had changed his life. Just one little semester studying machine learning opened his heart to applied physics. Satoru had always been known for being brilliant. Top of his class, valedictorian, full-ride scholarship (although he didn’t need it), the works. Getting his doctorate in medicine like his dad had been a no-brainer.
Until he actually fell in love with the brain.
Machine learning wasn’t the path of study he would meander down fully, but it lead to an avalanche of questions he somehow had never considered. If computers were fundamentally dissimilar in their reasoning, then, how, exactly was human reasoning classified? He was no philosopher, he wanted to figure out “what was zapping around up there” as he’d explained to one very surprised Shoko when he announced the change of his major at the end of the semester.
Biophysics had ended up being part general medicine, part neurology, part chemistry, part psychology, part anatomy, part… everything. Sparks he’d long felt dead, challenges he’d never felt. It lit a fire within him.
Now he was in his 2nd year of post-grad studies and he found that fire dimming down, again. Getting his undergrad handled had been a cake walk, and grad school brought the promise of more independence, deeper delves into his chosen fields, access to like minded peers and all the other good things a scientific mind craves in an education environment.
What he was not prepared for were the damn school politics that tinged everything in his life.
His first research grant proposal had been given the accolades he was used to, but at the same time had been edited down to the point that it was hardly what he’d proposed to begin with. The school administrators and department heads had used words like “optics” and it became painfully clear that the school cared less about results and more about sensationalizing research. Satoru didn’t know if it was for money and other ways of funding or just for bragging rights, but either way it had soured his opinion of those higher up.
He managed to get two proposals approved including that incident in his first year of grad school, with those and labs taking up most of his time. When the second one had its funding randomly cut when 80% of the work was already done, he’d cried earnestly over it, alone and bitter.
He’d sacrificed so much in pursuit of his education. Even without considering high school, his late teens and early 20s had been consumed with collegiate studies. He took every opportunity, applied to every experience he could get his curious mind on. At the beginning, it had been so fulfilling and exhilarating, but now…. It had just become a burden. The thought of continuing on that way, only to then slug through the politics surrounding doctorate studies, had becoming an overcast bit of sky that seemed to trail behind him.
At the start of his second year of grad school, he had vehemently hoped that things were turning around; he’d been accepted into the biophysics studies program with a focus on brain-computer interfacing. He was finally getting to do more of what he truly wanted. Except for one glaring detail…
The overseeing professor for the program- Dr. Ryomen Sukuna.
Satoru got what he could only perceive as passive aggression from the mountain of a man. Every time he saw those too-broad shoulders walking through campus he willed his eyes to form actual daggers launched right at his medulla oblongata, but, much to his dismay, the older man survived his glare every time.
It didn’t help that a part of him was genuinely endeared to the older man. When he did get the rare compliment, it burned him alive.
His professor often peppered Satoru’s reports and lab findings with cryptic notes that held every effect from confusing him to straight up pissing him off. He’d been left bewildered the first time he saw an entire paragraph of his work highlighted with “Relevance?” written off to the side in red pen. When it happened again, this time with “Rephrase please.” and no further help on what he could mean by that, he ripped the copy in half.
None of those were as egregious as Dr. Sukuna’s latest crimes against humanity (Gojo specifically, anyway).
He’d only just come in from a run before pulling up his e-mail app at a notification that scores has been posted. He nearly smashed it in his anger. Dr. Sukuna had given his last paper on the latest facilitated material an 87. A fucking B by public school standards! Satoru had never gotten less than a 95 in his fucking life.
That was the last straw and his reason for stomping down the department hallway so hard that his sneakers occasionally squeaked out on the tile, looking for the familiar name on a wall placard. The professor was in office hours, he was sure of it. (He had the schedule memorized, knowing it was his the time he was most free to bounce from project to project in the research lab without perceived scrutiny.)
He didn’t even bother to change, still wearing a tank top with low hanging armholes and basketball shorts, running from his on-campus apartment the whole 1.2 miles straight to the building he needed. When he finally found the office he needed he looked feral, soft white hair tousled, face and chest still pink from his insistent running, sweat dripping down his sharply furrowed brow. He panted out his fury for a few moments before the man before him lifted his gaze from his computer screen to meet simmering blue eyes that were just as bright as ever despite Satoru’s mood.
“Hello, Gojo,” he began impassively as though seeing his crazed student was the most normal thing in the world. “enjoying the weather I see?”
Satoru snorted, ignoring his comment. “I need to fucking talk to you.” He all but spat.
Dr. Sukuna gestured to the chair nearest Gojo, not even flinching at his demeanor. “By all means, shut the door and have a seat.”
He’d been hoping to at least rattle the man, to have a reason to bark out the acid in his throat. He still had enough wits about him to forego slamming the door, but sitting wasn’t something he had interest in doing. Instead, he slammed his palms down hard on the doctor’s desk, leaning forward, earning a quirked brow. Finally, something.
It would be hard to describe the man in front of him as truly stoic. When he found something humorous he was quick to laugh along as much as anyone, but if something didn’t bother him it very much did not bother him. Gojo had hoped to bother him, not stare down at calm eyes so richly brown they burned red when catching the right light, or tanned, unblemished skin resting over handsome features. Even his usual attire of fresh black slacks and a jewel-tone button down (dark red like his eyes, he noticed today) rolled up casually to his elbows and showing off muscled forearms managed to piss Satoru off.
On top of being an asshole he just had to be fucking gorgeous. One insult after the other. He pushed of the desk after a moment, rocking back on his heels before standing straight with his arms over his chest. He’d ruminated over a million things to say to the professor but now, in front of him, nothing quite conveyed the intensity of what he was feeling well enough.
“What the fuck is your problem?”
That would have to do to start.
Dr. Sukuna scoffed, and for a second Satoru though he even looked amused. “I wasn’t aware I had a problem.”
“Don’t play with me, that last assignment, you gave me-!”
The older man held up a hand to interrupt him. “I gave you what the paper was worth.”
Satoru felt his face slack as a new emotion twisted in his gut, temporarily quelling the rage that swam icily through his bloodstream.
For the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel like he was good enough to be doing this.
———
Ryo had expected some kind of big reaction out of Gojo. He’d been pushing and prodding him all semester, and knew he’d take grievance with the latest attempt. However, while he’d expected at the least a strongly worded email or perhaps some kind of visit to his office, he didn’t expect to be face to face with the young man staring him down like he’d stopped everything to come eat him alive.
He held up a hand as Gojo starting digging into him, and when the white haired man faltered momentarily he interrupted.
“I gave you what the paper was worth.”
Ryomen had to double down the effort to put his poker face to work as he watched the temperament in Gojo shift immediately, watched as he balked and his face twisted to something of genuine hurt.
“Gojo, have a seat, please.” His voice held no such cover, the tone softer than he generally used. The other man sank into one of the two leather chairs on the side of the desk opposite from him dutifully, and began picking at the hem of one of his shorts legs. He hasn’t expected Gojo to crumble so easily, not with the fury that had alighted him and sent him barreling into his office on winged heels. The older man briefly carded his black tie through his fingers to adjust its as he leaned back in his chair, lacing all of his fingers together at the back of his head as he gave an appraising glance to the young man. His elbows splayed out, looking now far more relaxed than the other person in the room.
“What do you do when you’re not focused on school?”
Gojo shot his head up to meet the professor’s gaze, a look of confusion on his face. Ryo pressed again. “Hobbies, friends, visits with family, pets, anything. What takes up your time when you’re not here?”
The white haired men crinkled his nose in thought, a habit Ryomen had picked up on. He only did it when he was working out an answer or weighing out his options. Cute. he thought to himself, and not for the first time.
“I guess… I like the same things as anyone my age. I play video games sometimes, I go out to bars with friends occasionally, especially if there’s live music… umm, I like movies, going to the cinema is cool..” He was clearly feeling awkward, unsure of the discussion he was having or why these things suddenly mattered to the educator, judging by his tone. Ryomen continued to look down at him through his lashes as he leaned back in his own chair.
“When was the last time you actually did any of those things, Gojo?” Realization bloomed then, and he thought he saw just the flush of pink on the tips of his ears as he looked to the side. It was the only confirmation Ryo needed.
His arms lowered to the arm rests of his chair as he leaned forward slightly. “You’re letting yourself burn out. If it’s already happening now then please trust me when I say it’ll be even harder when you start doing independent research.” He watched as slender pale fingers continued to busy themselves with threads anxiously for a moment before continuing. “I gave you an 87 because I know that’s not your best work. I’ve seen it myself.” He held up his hands in a “fuck it” gesture. “I’m tenured so you’re welcome to waste my time at this point. I’ll get paid either way. It’s just a pity to see you waste yours.”
Gojo’s face scrunched indignantly at the explanation. “You can’t just arbitrarily assign grades.”
Ryo shrugged. “I did. Sucks.”
Gojo gaped again before positively pouting. “You’re an asshole.”
He shrugged again. “When I need to be. Sucks.”
The younger man huffed, standing finally and moving quickly to the door. Ryo had already half-expected him to bolt however and was right behind him. When the door to his office opened just a crack he had a large hand pressing firmly into the top corner of the door, effectively pushing it back closed as he loomed over the grad student.
Gojo wasn’t especially short, maybe on the smaller side of average, but not many men were taller than him. Ryo watched as the other man’s face tilted up to him with a sharp gasp. He hadn’t meant to startle and would have stepped back, but there was something so… surprising about the expression before him. Blue eyes softened, cheeks were dusted almost bubblegum pink against pale skin. His lips were still slightly parted in surprise, full and- did Gojo wear lip gloss?
“If I give you a week to redo it, can you do the assignment again?”
The other man merely stared up at the professor for a moment, hand still on the door knob. Ryo’s eyes flicked down to the top of his chest exposed by the tank top, seeing a blush creeping there as well.
Oh.
Ryo wasn’t exactly a prime example of morals, but if letting yourself acknowledge that one of your grad students is sexy as fuck was a sin, then at least he’d be kept company by over half of the rest of the staff in hell. Probably more.
He switched tactics on the spot, offering a gentle comfort to even out the blunt conversation they’d just had. His hand rested on the other man’s cheek and he was rewarded with another soft gasp, before running his thumb gently over his cheek bone.
“Gojo…” he purred, dipping his head lower. “I said, if I give you a week-“
He was interrupted by the shock of lips against his own, sticky sweet and moving hungrily.
Damn. So much for avoiding working at home tonight. He clearly needed his office hours for more important things than reading papers right now.
A swift hand locked the door before cradling the other side of Gojo’s face. He tilted back his head, looming over him to take control of the kiss as his lips ran along the seam of Gojo’s lips. The smaller man mewled and gasped and Ryo moved forward, slipping his tongue into the warm waiting mouth as it began an almost lazy exploration of the his tongue and teeth.
The soft little groans that pulled from his throat told Ryo all that he needed to know; Gojo clearly needed this.
They stood for what felt like an agonizingly long time, moving their lips together greedily but still unhurried. Ryo couldn’t remember the last time he’d enjoyed something as simple as a makeout this much, but something about the combination of still sweaty skin and the taste of strawberry on Gojo’s mouth was ruining him. He wanted to ruin in return.
His hands found themselves on Gojo’s taught muscled hips, sliding up under the tank top to run along his sides. The moan Gojo rewarded him with at the feeling of bare hands on his skin was enough for Ryo to answer with a groan of appreciation of his own. He pulled back slightly, red melting into cyan as he looked down at the other man still in his grasp.
“Do you want to stop?”
Gojo hesitated, shuffling in place as he started to drop his head, flustered.
Sukuna caught the move with a hand under his chin, tilting his gaze back up to him.
“Gojo, you have to tell me. Do you want to stop?”
The young man shook his head.
“Use your words. Do you want to stop?”
White eyelashes fluttered against the top of pink cheeks as he felt the man shudder. “No. I don’t want to stop.”
“Good boy.”
He felt the edges of his lips curl before ducking his head back down to devour Gojo’s mouth again. Smaller hands slid up over his chest and pulled down on his broad shoulders and Ryo deepened the kiss at that silent command. He began to press forward, swiveling Gojo’s hips to the side to angle him before walking him backwards. When the other man hit the desk with his back he dropped his hands from Ryo’s shoulders, pressing into the wood as he hoisted himself up onto the desk. Hm, good boy indeed. he mused to himself.
Ryo ducked his head down to the still sweaty column of skin where he could all but see Gojo’s heart beating. He pressed his lips down on the pulse point before licking a stripe straight up to his earlobe which he pulled into his mouth. That display punched a sharp moan from the student’s chest, and Ryo was quick to wrap a hand around his mouth. “Shhhh, the walls aren’t super thin but it’s not worth the risk.” Gojo nodded, hand still clasped to his face. “You’ll be good?” He nodded more emphatically, earning another smile.
“Good boy.”
That one pulled a whimper from him and Ryo chuckled darkly as he returned to his neck. He licked and kissed and nipped his way up and down the expanse, feeling as the younger man beneath him tensed and untensed and shuddered to keep from moaning. The taste of his skin was heaven, like salt and electricity, and Ryomen had a passing thought that the smell of him was equally enticing. He’d never been all that invested in the smells of his partners, but Gojo had stormed in here smelling like adrenaline and sunshine and it was all he could to do keep from taking deep sniffs of his hair or skin.
He moved lower, tongue tracing the shape of his collar bones as the man shuddered for him again. God how he just wanted to bite down and suck on those protrusions with abandon until they were purple and black and red for him. He settled for gentle laps and kisses that were sure to keep his student pliant for him.
His hands found the hem of Gojo’s tank top and got no resistance from the young man as he shirked it off, instead raising his arms over his head to help. Ryo preened at the submission, before returning lips to skin. He felt over the firm plane of his pecs this way, his mouth mapping them while Gojo began moving his fingers through the professor’s hair. He was treated to such gasps and shudders, but the real joy was found in the arched back and spread legs he was given when his tongue teased at a hardened nipple.
With a groan of his own at the sultry display he began to suckle, moving a hand to roll the other nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Gojo breathed heavily and tried his best to honor the previous command, but breathy little moans peaked out of his throat at the attention. Ryo finally released one of his own moans at the feelings, sights, and sounds he was being treated to, his untouched cock positively throbbing against his slacks.
The sudden awareness of his own needy appendage made him want to feel his fingers wrapped around something equally throbbing, and he slid his hand down. Gojo’s legs were so deliciously spread, back arched so lewdly. He couldn’t wait to see the pose deepen for him as his hand ghosted over the band of his shorts and further down over the material between his legs.
Gojo suddenly sat up straight, gasping as he clamped his thighs together. “Professor wait, I-“
Ryo’s eyes had already widened in understanding, the squeezing of his thighs inadvertently causing his hand to go flush against what lay between the other man’s legs. It was brief, but he felt the gently rounded plain, the heat, the wetness. He pulled his hand free and Gojo looked positively ready to curl in on himself.
“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry, I should’ve said something-“ he babbled.
Sukuna placed a hand on either side of him on the desk, wanting nothing more than to be a comforting presence. “Hey, it’s okay, you’re okay.”
Gojo continued to ramble out apologies. “It was just the heat of the moment and I wasn’t thinking, I should’ve-“
“Honey, you’re fine.” Ryomen drawled, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Please don’t be scared, I’m not upset.” He felt the other man give a shaky sigh and he repeated the gesture, before tilting his head back gently to pepper more uneven pecks along his lips. “Do you still like being touched there?” He murmured between kisses.
“…yes.” came the other man’s soft reply, settling back into his arousal after the moment of concern left him.
“Do you want me to touch you?”
The white haired man nodded sharply with a small whimper.
“Gojo…” Ryomen warned, but this time Gojo knew what he wanted.
“Yes, please touch me.”
Ryo followed the same path he took earlier with his mouth, down jaw and neck and collar until he was contentedly latched onto another nipple, sucking with hot warm swipes of his tongue along the sensitive peak. His other hand moved down again, and when it was once again between the younger man’s legs, he began to ghost his fingers up and down the center. Gojo was whimpering in such an angelic, needy way for him, but when the cry suddenly turned sharp and his hips bucked forward against Ryo’s hand, he knew he’d found what he wanted.
He swapped nipples again, forcing more mewls and whimpers from his treat as his fingers began to move quickly over his clit through the fabric of his shorts. He could barely feel the outline of the swollen nub but he was content to tease for now.
Ryo pulled away eventually, earning a petulant whine from Gojo, while the professor scooted one of his chairs closer to the desk. He sat before spread legs and wet heat, looking up at blue eyes blown with lust and want.
“Take these off for me.” he murmured roughly.
Gojo obeyed, hooking his thumbs into the band of his shorts and boxers at the same time, pulling them both down over toned thighs and smooth pale legs to rumple unceremoniously on the floor between them. Ryomen got just a flash of his next meal before Gojo shyly pressed his knees together; when Ryo went to move them apart he gave no resistance beyond blushing fiercely and turning his head to the side.
A patch of the softest white hair he’d seen in his life sat above slick folds. God, this man was so wet for him; even the tops of this inner thighs were wet. His clit was what stole his attention the longest; only a bit thicker and longer than average but he could see it throbbing in time to Gojo’s pulse, looking as angry and red as any cock he’d ever seen. If he’d had the good sense to be patient he would’ve teased him further, but the sight of a perfect pussy inches from his face burned through the reason he had left.
He buried his nose into that lovely patch of hair, not hiding how he inhaled, before lapping up his clit with his broadened tongue and sucking it into his mouth. Gojo doubled over in a silent scream, hand covering his mouth, as he draped his legs over Ryo’s shoulders. The older man trailed a hand up his abs and to his chest where he pushed, indicating him to lay back. Gojo did so happily, sprawling out over piles of paperwork and assignments that littered the desk. Ryo pulled him closer by the thighs, letting his perfect little ass hang off of the desk as he devoured him.
Gojo’s thighs shut tightly around his head at a particularly delicious shock of pleasure, before immediately murmuring out apologies and trying to force his legs to relax. Ryo merely moved his hands to those smooth out thighs, pressing them back into place and encouraging Gojo to hold them there if he wanted. When they tightened once more he groaned against the clit in his mouth, the sensation causing Gojo to arch once more as his ankles crossed and locked together over the broad expanse of Ryo’s muscled back.
He finally gave the poor overstimulated clit a break, moving his tongue through slick labia and tasting every inch of them while Gojo writhed and tried to silence himself as best he could. His tongue licked further in, feeling the rim of muscle before pressing his tongue into his pussy in earnest. He tonguefucked the white haired man, groaning more in his own enraptured state. He barely noticed that the little whines he was pulling from Gojo were words until his hips began to rock up impatiently, keeping time with his thrusting tongue.
Please please please please please-
With a moan so deep it sounded like a growl he tilted his head to suck the aching clit back into his waiting mouth. Gojo’s hips bucked wildly, and he felt slender fingers pulling at his dusty pink hair sharply, holding him in place. He only regretted that he couldn’t look up at the silent scream he was sure was happening by the way his student’s body trembled as he came hard on Ryo’s face.
He backed off only to lap at the swollen clit, rather than withdraw completely as Gojo basked in the orgasm. The younger man didn’t move beyond breathing deeply even as Ryo continued to pleasure him, until he felt fingers pressing to his entrance. His hips bucked yet again and Ryo felt his two fingers get positively swallowed by the heat, the first withdrawal taking some effort and accompanied by such phonographic squelching. He began to thrust his fingers in and out, moaning against the clit on his tongue, feeling that perfect pussy clench down on him with each moan and suck.
When Gojo came again he had tears in his eyes, face so serene and blissed out that it actually made Ryo feel proud. He collected the smaller man into his arms, pulling him to a seated position on the desk once more.
“Can you stand, honey?” his voice was positively shaking with need, the hoarse raspiness betraying just how affected Ryo really was.
“Mmm I don’t know.” came the dreamy slurred reply of the man in front of him.
Ryo chuckled dryly at the sight of his small happy smile and heavy eyes. “Can you try for me?” Gojo’s head rolled to the side, preening under the attention, but the unmistakable sound of a belt buckle being worked open had him alert again.
“Yeah…” he said blissfully, sliding off of the desk onto shaky legs. Ryomen was also on his feet, cradling Gojo against his body by his hips to hold him upright, before gently turning him around. He pressed a hand against his back, pressing him chest first down onto the desk. Gojo crossed his arms, nestling his head between them with another happy sigh. Ryo chuckled, reaching out one hand to knead at part of the perfectly plump and toned ass in front of him.
“You feeling good, honey?”
Gojo smiled and nodded. “Mhmm.” If anyone heard them they might confuse his orgasm-drunk voice with sleepiness.
There was the sound of plastic tearing behind him as Sukuna opened a condom. “You need more?” Gojo nodded quickly, insistently, before catching himself and squeaking out a “Yes, please.”
“Please?” Ryo repeated, amused, before groaning as he rolled the condom on his poor ignored cock, the tiniest bit of friction already shooting pleasure through his spine. “I think you been more respectful in the past 20 minutes than you have been all year.” He felt the body beneath him chuckle, before Ryo licked from the dimples in the small of his back all the way up to his shoulder blades, looming over the younger man as he trembled at the sensation.
“Mmm, don’t get used to it.” Gojo finally replied, several beats late, his mind carefree and sluggish for once.
Ryo gently rubbed his cock along Gojo’s pussy, letting the wetness coat it as he teased the clit with the head. He felt a full body shudder beneath him. “I could, though.”
He lined his cock up to Gojo’s entrance. “I could get used to this so easily.”
He pressed forward, sucking a moan from both of them as his cock head breached. “I could do this every day.”
He pulled his cock out of the tight wet heat before pushing it forward again, taking on a slow shallow rhythm. “I could do this every. fucking. day.” Each word punctuated by a shallow stroke that left Gojo whimpering once again, his hands moving over the desk to find something to hold onto.
“This perfect body.” He pulled out and slid deeper.
“This perfect ass.” He pulled out and slid deeper, kneading the swell of said ass.
“This perfect cunt.” He buried himself fully at that, leaving Gojo opened mouthed and gasping at the stretch.
Ryo stilled himself then, ignoring his muscles that burned to move, looming back over the body beneath him to run his hands up and down his shoulders and spine while he whispered in his ear.
“How do you want me to fuck you?” He kissed the shell of the ear, his neck, the side of his face.
Gojo looked over his shoulder, sapphire smolder threatening to swallow Ryo whole.
“Fuck me up.”
Ryo moaned at how filthy he sounded for him and gave him what he asked for without another word. His hips snapped and bounced off of Gojo’s ass, the slap slap slap of their bodies only second in obscenity to the most incredible squelches being forced out of his body. Ryomen nearly came at the thought of how insanely hot and wet Gojo’s pussy would have felt on his bare dick, and for once he was grateful for the condom to extend this high a bit longer.
He slid an arm under Gojo’s head, cradling him, and the younger man nestled against it immediately, reaching to the large palm to rest his own hand in it. Ryo curled his fingers around it, holding it tightly while his other hand squeezed indents into Gojo’s hip bone.
A particularly large squelch followed by a sharp inhale and a cry surprised him, causing him to groan as his dick was clenched by a pussy mid orgasm. It was fucking maddening. He dipped his head to speak again into the student’s ear as his hips only moved faster. “You’re doing- so- good- for me- ugh, honey. Give me-hah, give me one more.”
He moved his hand from his hip, working it between Gojo and the desk, his finger tips finding the swollen clit yet again. His fingers worked it as much as they could in the tight space, but simply fucking him into the pressure would have honestly done enough.
Ryo felt his head grow dizzy with need as his vision blurred. His eyes clenched shut, pleasure pooling in the base of his spine and forcing his dick to throb and his hips to stutter.
“One more c’mon do it for me baby let me feel it, let me- shit, yeah, like that-“
His fingers worked their magic on Gojo’s clit once more and when his fourth orgasm wrecked him, the squeeze of heat threw Ryo off the edge as well. He grunted, smacking his hips against the smaller man before shuddering and groaning out the rest off his orgasm, laid over the other body.
He finally stood, mourning the loss already as he pulled out, slipping off the condom and tying it off before Gojo even had time to look up. Ryo saw him try to stand shakily and moved to his side, helping him sprawl back into one of the leather chairs, pale skin blooming with red, lips swollen, hair perfectly displaced.
“Beautiful.” he murmured.
“Hmm?” questioned Gojo, blissed out and refusing to even open his eyes. Ryo only chuckled, choosing to ignore the query.
——
When Satoru finally came to his senses he dressed quickly, unable to hide the look of disbelief on his face. Had he truly been that horny and touch starved? Jeez he knew he’d been busy, but-
“You don’t have to rush.” spoke that same sweet and smokey drawl. It set a fire under his skin anew now that he knew just how deep and raspy that voice could get.
When he was dressed again he couldn’t help but notice that, besides Dr. Sukuna’s hair being a bit messier, he looked the same as he did before he fucked the hell out of Satoru. The young man couldn’t help but be curious about the state he himself must be in.
The professor stood, walking him to the door where he leaned against the doorframe yet again.
“Does this mean I get an A?” Satoru asked, lips curling into a mischievous smile.
It was quickly dropped at the scoff from the other man who shook his head with a soft laugh.
“No, but my offer still stands. One week, Gojo. Let me see that brain of yours working at full capacity, and maybe-“ He swiped his thumb over the young man’s raw lips. “I’ll reward you for your hard work.”
Satoru blushed and smiled, catching a new high of adrenaline that made him want to move. With deft hands he opened the door suddenly and slipped through the crack once it was wide enough. He trotted to the exit, ignoring a woman calling “No running in the halls!” before spinning his body through the outside exit, opening the door with his hips.
He ran all the way back home again, the ache in his legs and chest gone, endorphins still rushing through his body. When he finally made it to the threshold of his apartment the fatigue caught his ass and he all but crumpled on the floor of his kitchen to catch his breath. Satoru was happy to lay on the cool tile, the previous events playing over and over in his head.
Suddenly, his hand shot into the pocket of his gym shorts, pulling out his phone as he unlocked it and opened the message app. A familiar group chat with dozens of unchecked messages sat at the top of the screen where it always did, waiting for him.
Satoru 16:45
hey
Satoru 16:45
you guys want to see a movie later
Shoko 16:45
babyyyyy hiiiii
Yu 16:46
HOLY FUCK UR ALIVE????
Shoko 16:46
just say u don’t have a life like the rest of us do, yu
lol
Satoru 16:46
lol
Nanami 16:46
lol
He stood up shakily, heading for the shower, feeling hopeful about things for the first time in a long while.