"Are you sure this is okay?" Yuuji asked brightly… for the third time. Nobara was already waving for a new round and Gojo looked thoroughly satisfied with his plan to get three teenagers drunk on a weekday. Hands in his pockets, feet kicked lazily out in front of him… his smile as much of a mask as the one shading his eyes.
Megumi knew a thing or two about shadows… tossed back the fourth shot and let Nobara pull him out onto the dance floor. They'd become best friends the moment he caved and let them all drag him to this club, the moment Nobara realized she could boss him around without much of a fight. That, he thought, may be the thing he’d regret most tomorrow.
Megumi, with a fourth shot just beginning to sing under his skin, felt a little differently about the dance floor. Where normally he might feel cramped and crowded, now he just moved in the shadows between the dancers, his feet slip sliding and sure, while Nobara laughed and twirled around him, tossed on the crowd like a petal. Yuuji was beside her, in and out of serious motion, his face joyful and wide with a smile and for a moment, ridden by the heavy beat, Megumi felt sixteen and free.
The bass always dropped when he wasn't expecting it.
Gojo's hands settled on his waist, thumbs tucked into the lines of his hips like he fucking owned him (he did). It was trapping, stilling the loose, frenetic motion of Megumi's dance and forcing him to roll to the beat of Gojo's hips.
Nobara… where did she go? Where did Yuuji go? Where was Sensei's hand going as it crept over his hip to spread possessively over Megumi's belly. The tight muscle rising and falling to meet his guiding palm… its own kind of bottom line. Gojo was hotter against his back than the blood under his skin and Megumi pressed closer like he needed the warmth.
Combined, they were molten.
One hot line of motion, rocking together like they were fucking, and every time Gojo’s hips rolled into his own from behind to the relentless drill of the beat, Megumi unraveled a little more.
Nobara, and then they were bouncing, everyone was bouncing, and he took another shot and what song was this, what was in this drink, what kind of teacher hadn’t given him homework but had given him this…
Whatever the drink was it burned. Megumi squeezed his eyes closed, shook his head like a dog. Yuuji slapped his back, and he must be gone too, the eyes on his cheeks peeked coyly out at Megumi from above his healthy flush.
“Careful.” He said, and Megumi wanted to tell him to do the same, but a hand on his wrist… and one that didn’t fall away when he shook it.
“BATHROOM!” Sensei shouted over the music, and Yuuji nodded and Nobara was laughing at the bar, and Megumi wanted to close his eyes as the anchor dragged him under. Pulled him through the crowd like going in rewind, just Gojo’s hand circling his wrist and the dizzy feeling.
The bathroom had a speaker in the ceiling, so even when his back hit the door, the montage didn’t slow. Montage? Had to be, everything was spinning…
“Hey, how drunk are you?”
“Tch.” Megumi tossed his head irritably. Jerked to a stop by the hand on his chin, and when Megumi turned to face him, he realized Gojo still had his fucking mask on. Bastard. He groaned. “Fuck off, please.”
“You love me!” Gojo said indignantly and maybe he was right because as much as Megumi wanted to hit him, he wanted to kiss him more. And Gojo’s mask may be up but his guard was down, because Megumi slid a messy tongue between the seam of his lips, just before he was shoved back against the wall.
Gojo didn’t unravel. Like ice, he just melted, pulling his mask down smiling and then it was blue eyes on his.
“What do you want ?” Megumi bit out and Gojo smiled for him. Cool curve of his lashes and Megumi moaned into the next kiss. Filthy because Sensei knew Megumi would let him have it, whatever it was. Sensei knew it of every piece of him, inside and out.
Knew that a firm hand and a clever tongue and those eyes on him and Megumi was gone, love drunk. Knew it because this may be Kugisaki-san and Yuuji-kun's introduction to his Sensei's methods, but Gojo had been the one to teach Megumi to kiss. Had stolen that years ago, and then greedy, greedy had come back for more.
The kisses were hard with feeling and alcohol and when Gojo pulled away Megumi swayed after him. It made Gojo chuckle and the sound had Megumi peeling his eyes open in time to see his Sensei get on his knees on a dirty bathroom floor. His cheek nuzzling into Megumi’s thigh, his breath warm over him even through the fabric.
" Ffuck ." Megumi muttered and his hands slid into soft, impossible hair, movements relaxed and precise like this was any other training regimen. Familiar, even here, where the walls still shook from bass against his back and his tongue felt huge in his mouth. Familiar in that way only things given much practice could feel. His feet slid apart enough to welcome, his hips canted forward toward his Sensei’s eager mouth. “Go on then, you want it so bad.”
Gojo’s eyes creased merrily, but his hands worked Megumi’s belt open like it was a fight and he wanted to win. Yanked his pants down his hips, not worried about the door, not bothering with a stall, just one big hand on his belly.
Slipped the band of his boxers just under, leaving Megumi bare assed in a club bathroom, a little unsteady from the alcohol.
When he sucked the tip into his mouth, they both moaned. Megumi’s grip tightened, his hips twitching and only that hand kept him from pumping forward, from wrecking the pretty, little mouth smiling around him. Only Sensei could smile with his mouth full.
Smug and full of it, but when Megumi’s hand tightened in the messy tilt of his hair his eyes slid closed. Beautiful and terrible and his mouth felt so good. Familiar.
They’ve had plenty of practice at this.
Megumi tipped his head back against the wall, and used his hand to guide the pace. His rhythm was sloppy, his grip uneven from the alcohol, but Gojo took it like someone who didn’t do a lot of studying in school. Is this studying, Megumi thought. He was learning from the best then, at least.
Sensei’s hand pushed on his stomach, and Megumi loosened his grip lazily, letting him up for air. Gojo coughed, and those blue eyes had melted, watering a little. Megumi would feel bad, except he so obviously fucking loved it.
“Mean, ‘Gumi.” Sensei whined, pushing his forehead into Megumi’s belly, like one of the dogs, nudging him for a scritch. His tongue dipped out to lap over his head, hot and quick, a dirty kiss. “I’m being so nice.”
“Maybe that’s why I’m being mean.” Megumi said, and then guided Gojo back over him, rocking up little by little. Until Gojo’s hand wasn’t holding Megumi down, but holding himself up as Megumi fucked into his mouth, slip sliding and sure. Eased that dirty kiss further and further, until he was bumping the back of Gojo’s throat with every thrust of his hips and his body felt warm all over, loose and overheated and tight, tight, tight. “Like you taught me.”
Gojo moaned, the sound vibrating around his cock, humming through his nose, pressed just above. It felt good, it felt the best, and for just a moment, Megumi felt sixteen. Free-
And then somebody at the door, and Gojo stood immediately, shielding Megumi from the view of whoever was about to enter. Megumi fumbled for his pants, clumsy from the alcohol.
“-gonna puke, gonna puke-”
“Just wait, asshole, please- There you are! Sensei! Yuuji’s wasted-”
“Ara, ara.” Gojo said, his voice merry, if just a little raspy. His smile made Megumi’s dick twitch, trapped under his waistband. “At least he doesn’t have any hair to hold.”
“Sensei!” Yuuji wailed, definitely wasted, and then puked all over the floor.
Another montage but less fun. Gojo cooing over Yuuji, touching his overheated forehead with concern and fingers that had been wrapped around Megumi’s cock minutes ago. No time to talk really before they flooded out of the bathroom, out of the club and into the street.
Colder out here, and Megumi shivered even in his jacket. Didn’t fight Sensei’s arm tossed over his shoulder. Fuck. He smelled good. They should all smell the same, sweaty and smoky and shitty from the club and instead he smelled sweaty and smoky and good. Megumi scowled at nothing.
“Taxi.” Nobara said. “You invited us, so you’re paying.”
Megumi snorted, and Gojo feigned wounded and hailed a taxi that didn’t seem to care that the guy in the blindfold was escorting three drunk teenagers back to one location. Took the tip and dropped them off at the dorms.
Nobara helped them lug Yuuji, who could walk, but kept crying and was much more convinced by her prodding than Sensei’s cajoling as far as his room and then excused herself. Megumi wondered if one of them should walk her back… was that weirder? He looked at Gojo, who was pinching Yuuji’s cheeks and cooing at him.
“Just get him in bed.” Megumi said, and Gojo pouted but…
But he did want, had wanted it since he’d seen him, he was so obvious. Always had been. Could think around any obstacle in hi path except his own stupid dick.
Yuuji, in bed, blankets tucked and Megumi closed his door with a quiet snick. Thanks to Sensei, his room was only a few steps away and he made them quick. His own door opened to darkness and Megumi stepped inside, only pausing when Gojo didn’t move.
“Are you coming?”
“I like it when we both do.” Gojo said winningly and close, much closer. His voice was deep and playful in Megumi’s ear. “Are you gonna, ‘Gumi? Gonna cum for me?”
“Wow.” Megumi said, dryly, but he was glad the shadow hid his flush as he stepped away. “Not if you keep fucking calling me that.”
Gojo was still laughing when he kissed him. Was laughing when his back hit the bed, chuckling a little when Megumi peeled his jacket off. Was still huffing, a little breathless when Megumi finally got his mouth on him, so he pushed his fingers into his mouth. Anything to shut him up, and Sensei, drunk and gone, just shivered and sucked him in.
His room was quiet, and with only four shots in him, his head was clearing faster than he wanted it to on his knees. Gojo was groaning around his hand while Megumi’s mouth opened wider and worked him deeper, pushing and pushing, until Gojo was whining uselessly into his hand, his hips bucking a little.
He twitched in Megumi’s mouth, his head brushing the roof of his mouth and Megumi let him slide off of his tongue.
“Not yet.” Megumi said, and Gojo whined for real. Kicked his feet a little when Megumi stood, walking away from him, to fish in his dresser for his lube. Kicked off his own pants on the way back, and Gojo was already palming his ocock, just watching Megumi strip and walk towards him and Megumi didn’t feel sixteen at all like this. He didn’t feel unsure and awkward, this was familiar. As practiced as the twist of his own fingers inside of himself and Gojo watched. As familiar as the press of Sensei’s tip against his opening, pressing and pressing.
Until Gojo gave in, and held his hips and fucked up into him, big and so good and the heat had rolled back to life in Megumi’s belly like the music had never stopped. His thighs were trembling already as he raised and slid back down, slippery and sure.
Megumi didn’t really like to shop, unless it wasn’t his money. He didn’t really like to dance, until he was three shots in, and he didn’t really like to fuck unless he was on top.
Gojo had certainly never seemed to mind.
White hair on a white pillow case, glowing in the dark, while Megumi put a hand on his chest and rode him down into the mattress. Short, sharp presses on his hips over and over, while Gojo rocked to meet him, thumbs brushing his hip bones, his back, reaching around to cup and spread his ass where he split him. It changed the angle, Megumi’s back arching to chase the length of him. Forcing him deeper and every rolling thrust dragged him deeper. Made his thighs strain, not from the work but from the pleasure, zinging from head to toe, making his head fuzzy. Just the motion of his hips, their silent dance, Sensei’s guiding hands showing him the moves.
He wanted to kiss him. He wanted to cum. He wanted to see Sensei, still wearing his stupid little glasses, just smeared and askew, cumming for him. Wanted to watch him melt completely, watch his mouth fall open and his face tighten up. Just thinking about it had his rhythm speeding and Gojo matched him with a lazy grin… maybe Sensei was a little drunk.
“Why are you smiling, ‘Gumi?” Gojo asked, his eyes wide and lovey. Megumi scowled immediately.
Planted a hand on Gojo’s chest, the balance letting him pick up speed and Gojo’s eyes fluttered closed for a second. He was so pretty, to be so-
“If my dick could be smiling, it would.” Gojo said, breathless and very sincere. Megumi groaned.
“I hate every part of you.” Megumi said seriously. His words came out almost too serious- the steady punch of Gojo’s cock in and out and in and out and he had already been so close back in the bathroom. His hand slid, sweat damp on Gojo’s chest, forcing him down faster and Megumi moaned. “...except your dick.”
“That’s why it’s smiling.” Sensei said and Megumi wanted to groan, but his hands had tightened on him, thrusting up into him at a hurried pace, working Megumi above him. Those fingers dug into his body, moving him faster and faster and Megumi was panting. His body rushing towards that sweet perfect end and he wanted it, wanted to cum, leaned into the feeling.
Gojo was laughing at him, just a little when he finished twitching, his cock red and dripping between his thighs. Gojo’s belly spattered, drop collecting and running towards his chest when he thrust back up, lifting Megumi when the boy couldn’t lift himself.
“So cute, ‘Gumi.” Gojo whispered, and drunk, Sensei was definitely drunk and Megumi was going to regret this at training tomorrow, but it felt so good right now, even sore and spent. “You did cum for me.”
“Mm.” Megumi said. Finally snuck in that kiss and it was twice as good because it stopped him from fucking laughing.
He may have been laughing himself when Gojo finally pulled him close, his body shaking, that moment of sweet vulnerability all his power couldn’t negate. Just let Sensei bury himself as deeply as he could, gathering Megumi up in his arms.
It was kind of blurry after that. Gojo kind of wiped him off and the lights went out and that was all that really mattered until Megumi woke up to a knock.
It had to be early, because the room was hellishly bright, and there were birds and he wasn’t, he wasn’t going to answer the fucking door. He wasn’t going to fucking move, because if he moved he’d have to feel and he wasn’t ready to do that yet at all.
Another knock, and Megumi moaned. It was so loud, the knocking was so loud and the birds were so loud and awake it was like he could sense the light, even with the blanket over his face.
“Hai, hai.” Said a calm voice, and Megumi didn’t really get it, until his door swung open and Sensei said. “Oh! Morning, Yuuji-kun!”
“M-m-morning.” Itadori said and Megumi wanted to die. Or sleep, god. Who cared just- “Is-”
“Megumi’s still asleep.” Sensei said unconvincingly into the silence, and then even more unconvincingly, “I’m keeping an eye on him.”
It must have sounded sort of believable and Itadori must have left, because with little follow-up the door was closing, and Sensei, his best, favorite amazing Sensei was closing the blinds and sliding back into bed behind him.
“Aren’t I, Megumi?”
“Mm.” Megumi assented, unmoving. “Teacher of the Year.”