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The walls of the Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical School creaked at night, for no apparent reason—sometimes from the cold, in autumn or winter, and sometimes from the heat, in spring and summer. Sometimes from the rain, when the old wood, with much more years resisting floods and windstorms than Suguru could imagine or even count, began to groan with the urge to give up, even if multiple spells and talismans of durability and protection prevented it from doing so. The tinkling of the pipes, with the water running up and down, and its low, pitiful howl when they were hollow, like a hiss, begging for something indecipherable and honestly terrifying, was all like a creepy melody that you just ended up getting used to once you lived long enough in the dorms to push it to the back of your thoughts, a never-ending background noise that was only annoying if you let it annoy you.

Satoru touched his face lightly, urging him to open his mouth. Suguru obeyed, allowing him to slip a sweet between his lips, the residual taste of the artificial orange dangling from his fingertips.

If I was a rich girl, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na,” Satoru sings aloud. “See, if I have all the money in the world, if I was a wealthy girl.”

Suguru rolled the candy in his mouth back and forth, not lifting his eyes from the notebook, rereading the question a second time before answering him.

“Strawberry,” he said, pleased with himself.

Behind him the bed creaked, the old springs from years and years of being used by different people squeaking under Satoru's weight.

“Aha, you’re right.”

Suguru smiled to himself, cracking the candy with his teeth and slowly chewing the rest of the bits. Satoru turned around again, wriggling like a fish that's been dumped on the edge of the bowl, following the song lyrics with ease.

It was around ten o'clock at night—little more, little less. Satoru's room tended to be slightly less cool than his own, with that yellow bulb in the ceiling warming every surface its light touched, conferring an orange hue to almost anything in the room. Suguru was sitting on the floor, not really doing homework, but rather answering random questions he could catch here and there from a book, old as existence itself, that he managed to sneak out of the library without anyone noticing. It was, in a plain way, quite interesting—entertaining would be the right word, in the way old books talking about serious subjects still being treated today entertain. Its thin, yellowed pages were like a quick glimpse of its longevity, the way it was written and portrayed the techniques of sorcery, with too much pomp and flourish, made him want to laugh out loud every two or three lines.

But it was nighttime, and it was amusing, aside from being mildly informative, and there was nothing better to do. Tomorrow they would have the day off, and in two days they’ll have an important mission, but in this very moment neither of them was worried about it. Why would be? They were the strongest.

“Don't need other baby, your lovin' is better than gold, I know.”

Suguru heard the crunch of another wrapper being opened, the cloying, minty smell of a candy cane burning his nose. Satoru, lying on his bed, jumped up, dropping his head on Suguru's shoulder, barely, the clump of messy silver hair tickling his neck.

“This one's easy,” he muttered, holding the candy cane between his teeth.

Suguru put the pencil aside, careful to rest the book, delicate as a newborn baby, on top of the notebook and not the other way around—lest no even one kanji was erased if he left it unprotected for half a second on the floor.

“It's Christmas candy, how hard can it be?” he answered, breaking the stick in half and putting it in his mouth.

Satoru immediately stepped back. The music keep playing, changing from one song to another, without breaking the flow of the atmosphere.

“A few times I've been around that track, so it's not just gonna happen like that. 'Cause I ain't no hollaback girl, I ain't no hollaback girl.”

Satoru's voice mingled with the artist's, over the constant, endless whine of the walls complaining about something. Suguru nibbled on his piece of candy cane, not picking up the pencil or the book again, staring at the dull multicolored light of the mp3 player, slightly larger than a rubik's cube, on the nightstand. Satoru's room was an exact copy of every room in the school dormitory, and yet it still managed to be almost a living thing, as if it breathed on its own. The four walls were a complete display of Gojo Satoru, as if they had cracked that hard skull of his and poured a bit of his brain into that enclosed space, expanding into every corner like paint.

Suguru grimaced in disgust, chewing the candy to bits, not waiting for the sugar to melt completely in his mouth. “Have you heard that saying that if you eat a lot of candy before you go to sleep, you get nightmares? If it's true, we're going to be scared shitless after this now,” he asked, peeling his back off the edge of the bed and lying on his side, resting his chin in the palm of his hand.

Satoru chuckled, rolling onto his stomach, his dark glasses sliding off the bridge of his nose and his sleeveless Eden green tank top crumpling under his stomach.

“I used to hear that they gave worms.”

“Doesn't everyone say it? Eating sweets causes worms. It's nothing new.”

“But do they really?” he asked, reaching out for another piece of candy. The center of the bed was a mess, full of empty candy wrappers, the sheets disheveled, and about ten different brands and flavors of candy waiting to be eaten. “That's what no one answers.”

Suguru pursed his lips, brushing his bangs away from his face.

“Are you trying to check it out?”

His eyes paid attention to Satoru's fingers, easily and methodically opening two sweets, one green and one purple, bringing the first one to his mouth quickly before offering him the second. Suguru accepted it, barely catching the apple flavor on his fingertips.

“I don't think it matters,” Satoru continued, licking his thumb. “I mean, it's not like it's the first time.”

“Do you eat your fill of candy at night before bed when no one's looking?” Suguru bit the edge of his lower lip, smiling. “I'd say I'm surprised, but I'm not.”

Satoru shrugged, smiling too. “What can I tell you? I have the best ideas before I go to sleep.”

Suguru reached out, snatching the dark glasses with his hand before Satoru could stop him.

“And how is it that I'm only now noticing? That's probably why my wall is always full of ants.”

Satoru blinked a couple of times, the fan of his lashes creating shadows on his cheekbones, before arching both eyebrows.

“Flavor?” he asked suddenly, like he just remember it.

Suguru ran his tongue over his lips. “Grape.”

“Right. And no, hey, that's a lie,” Satoru added. He turned, dropping his long legs, endless legs over the edge of the bed and jumping to his feet, “This building is full of bugs. Didn't you know? Shoko once found a cockroach in her pillow.”

Suguru stood up as well, picking up the book and notebook and setting them carefully on Satoru's desk. It was quite late. On the other side of the tiny window, the sky was dark and dotted with clouds, as if a downpour was going to fall at any given moment, not even a measly ray of moonlight escaping. He dropped onto the bed, careful not to crush the candy with his weight, watching Satoru stretch his arms overhead until his fingers nearly brushed the ceiling. The elastic of his pants falling low on his hips, like the drawstring he had to hold them up was useless.

“Shoko isn't even on this side of the dorms.”

“Then it was Nanami, I'm sure it was.”

The song ended and changed to another, leaving them in a sudden silence that lasted about a full second.

“Why do I feel that you're making it up?”

Music filled the silence at the speed of light, drowning out the creaking of the walls as quickly and efficiently as a slap. Satoru spun on his heels, clasping both hands together and smiling in his direction, his blue eyes the color of the universe as clear as the color of the sky at noon.

I'm Miss American Dream since I was seventeen, don't matter if I step on the scene or sneak away to the Philippines,” he sang, and Suguru couldn't help but grin from ear to ear.

Satoru swayed to the music, his pole-like body moving from one side of the room to the other as he sang, creating strange shadows against the floor every time he took a direction opposite to the one the light bulb would like. Suguru leaned back on his side, propping himself up on his elbow so he could see him better, muttering behind his teeth.

I'm Mrs. Lifestyles of the rich and famous.”

I'm Mrs. Oh my God that Britney's shameless!” he continued, sitting down on the bed.

Satoru reached out, inviting him to stand, and Suguru went, wrapping his arm around Satoru’s waist, unable to stop or resist.

“I'm Mrs. Extra! Extra! This just in.”

I'm Mrs. she's too big, now she's too thin.”

It was ridiculous. Suguru wanted to laugh, suddenly grateful that their rooms were next to each other down the hall as he and Satoru sang aloud. The floor of the room was a mess, clothes and knick-knacks scattered anywhere he could lay his eyes, the uniform jacket Satoru had left where it fell earlier that afternoon and also the empty bag of chips they'd both ate last week. Under the bed lurked the thin white cord of a pair of headphones, suspiciously similar to the ones that disappeared about a week ago from his own bedroom.

“Are you high on sugar yet?” Suguru asked, holding his waist with both hands.

Satoru licked his lips.

“Let's see. Can I go to the bathroom for a sec?”

“Go ahead.”

He sat back down on the edge of the bed, watching Satoru hover over the undefined bundle of clothes on his desk chair before finally slipping inside the bathroom. Suguru swept his gaze over the room, humming the rest of the song until it changed to another, stopping his eyes on the pile of candy and reaching out for one without realizing what he was doing until he was popping it into his mouth. The artificial lemon flavor exploded on his palate, sweeping with it the residue of the grape still stuck on his tongue.

Suguru held the candy between his teeth, breaking it in two and then in four, until it was in tiny pieces. A minute later, the bathroom door opened, Satoru pausing in the frame, a pleased smile twisting his lips. Suguru blinked.

“Is it Shoko's?” he asked, referring to the uniform skirt clinging tightly to Satoru’s hip, "or Utahime’s?”

Satoru bit the corner of his lip, delighted.

“Mei Mei. She willingly chose to lend it to me, for a price, of course. Do you like it?”

Suguru watched him walk the necessary three strides between the bathroom and the bed, stopping just in front of him, one hand on his hip and the sly grin growing wider and wider. One of the straps of his tank top had slipped over his shoulder, or maybe he'd done it himself, looking every bit sloppy and casual but extremely planned, like most of the things he did. The patch of white skin between the hem and bottom of the shirt leaving his navel on display, the hard, flat muscles of his abs peeking out unabashedly. His usually long legs seemed endless, stretching as far as Suguru's eyes could see, stopping exactly beside his own feet.

Suguru looked him up and down, turning up again to look him in the eyes, bringing both hands to his waist and sinking his thumbs there, savoring the slight shudder that shook him.

“A little weird, but yes,” he admitted, pulling him in his direction, forcing him to sit on his lap.

Satoru's eyes sparkled.

“I knew you'd like it,” he slipped both arms around Suguru’s neck, burying his fingers in his hair and yanking the hairtie off. “You like weird things.”

That was a huge flex, coming from Gojo Satoru himself, but Suguru only shook his head.

“We both do.”

Satoru's mouth tasted amazing, artificially sweet, even above the sourness left by the lemon candy in his own. Suguru ran his tongue over Satoru’s lips, forcing them open, sliding both hands under Satoru’s shirt and bringing them up, up, up, trailing over his abs and chest, stopping over his nipples. Satoru mimic him, tangling Suguru’s hair into a fist and cradling his face with his other hand, gently, the brush of his thumb under Suguru’s left cheekbone a caress through and through. Suguru sighed, distracted long enough for Satoru's teeth to catch him off guard, digging shallowly over his jaw.

“Did you get a sugar high?” Satoru asked him now, kissing Suguru's face with something akin to reverence.

Suguru closed his eyes, smiling.

“Maybe.”

Satoru kissed him again, deep, gasping when Suguru fingers pinched his right nipple. Suguru pulled away from his lips, digging his teeth into Satoru’s neck until the skin there took on a bright pink hue, running his tongue carefully over the wound. Satoru tilted his head to give him better access, gasping aloud when one of Suguru's hands slipped under his skirt, palming his crotch.

“I love this,” Suguru murmured, pressing a kiss to his chin.

Satoru bit his lips, his narrowed eyes slightly less blue than usual.

“No more than I do.”

Suguru rolled them over, dropping Satoru onto the mattress, biting the inside of his cheek as his hands, quick and deft, trailed over Satoru’s chest, kneading his flesh with the ease and eagerness of someone who'd done it enough times. Suguru kissed him again, opening his mouth to moan softly when Satoru's fingers met his left nipple, swallowing the slight whimper that spilled into his mouth while he stroked up and down the cock in his hand, just beginning to stiffen behind Satoru’s boxers.

“Blow me?” he gasped, spreading a string of wet kisses across Suguru's face. “You're so good at that.”

Suguru chuckled, pulling his free hand away from where it lay, flat on Satoru's chest, and bringing it up to his face, tracing the outline of his lips.

“You had this planned all along, didn't you? You idiot.”

Satoru shrugged, opening his mouth suck Suguru’s fingers.

“Maybe,” he mumbled. His tongue slid between Suguru’s digits, slow, soaking them fingers with saliva, stifling a moan that sounded more like a squeal of surprise when Suguru pushed in lightly.

Suguru took two deep breaths, trying to breathe calmly. Satoru held his hand around his wrist, sucking his fingers eagerly, bobbing his head up and down again and again, closing his eyes one more time when Suguru thrusted against his mouth. Suguru leaned in, licking the trickle of spit that escaped from the corner of Satoru’s mouth, fucking his fingers trapped firmly between Satoru’s tight lips and stroking his cock with the other, drinking on his whimper when he teased the head with his thumb, feeling it slowly fill against his fingers in a slow but sure rhythm.

“You could have just asked and saved us the rest,” he rasped, retrieving his hand and almost wrenching himself off of Satoru, dropping to his knees. “Alright. Just don't cum in my hair.”

Satoru gasped, sitting up, licking his lips bright red. His eyes were more the color of the cloudy sky than noon now.

“Sure.”

Suguru slid both hands down Satoru’s thighs, the soft skin giving easily against his fingers at the slightest pressure. Satoru had his skirt hiked up almost to mid-thigh, exposing the lime green color of his boxers underneath the fabric, and even if Suguru knew it was partly his fault, he couldn't help biting the inside of his mouth to stifle a chuckle.

“I really love this,” he repeated, finishing lifting the skirt up. The beautiful, long, full hard line of Satoru's cock marking itself on the fabric made his mouth water, but he ignored it, bringing his hand further up to his abs. “It makes everything easier.”

Satoru chuckled, or rather mumbled something akin to a breathy chuckle, undulating his hips slowly, just a little. Suguru could feel his muscles trembling.

“Really? Imagine if it was a girl. Would you still like it?”

“Maybe. If I was one too.”

“Wow, that's so gay.”

Suguru chuckled, leaning forward and running his tongue down the length, silencing him immediately. The taste of the fabric was almost too rough compared to the promise of the wet, silky skin underneath, forcing him to run it over once more, forgetting to hold the skirt and devoting himself entirely to it, kissing and licking the shaft until Satoru tugged at his hair, pulling him hard up so he could kiss him. Suguru lost himself in his lips, drinking in his breath, pulling away just a little so he could rip his shirt off over his head and drop it wherever it fell, knocking out some junk that crashed to the floor with a thud.

“I hope it was nothing valuable,” Satoru gasped, pulling away from his lips to kiss his neck, his ear, his eyelids.

“Like there's anything useful in this dumpster.”

Suguru knelt between his legs again, digging his fingers into the pale, sensitive skin of Satoru’s inner thighs to spread them even wider, glancing up at him before slipping both thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and tugging them down. Satoru was... a whole picture. With his bare chest, his hair, eternally tousled, his lips swollen from kissing and being fucked by Suguru’s fingers, the rose-colored blush creeping up from his neck to blur halfway down his face, like it was afraid to reach the edge of his eyes, intimidated by the dark storm that was the sky of his pupils. His hard cock, looking every bit inviting, nestled almost artfully between his spread legs, springing free the moment Suguru almost ripped off his underwear, dragging it down his legs and leaving it awkwardly around his ankles.

Satoru smiled, white teeth digging into the abused lower lip, running a hand through his hair, like he knew. Because he knew. He knew what the sight of him, naked, with nothing but his skirt crumpled at his waist and his dick hard and proud, ready to be devoured, did to Suguru. And Suguru was an absolute idiot, too, because he loved it. He loved it.

He had to stop to readjust his pants, his own cock swelling uncomfortably.

Suguru held Satoru’s shaft in his hand, feeling it throb, pumping a couple of times before leaning down and licking a long wet line, from base to head. Satoru moaned, sinking his fingers into the tangle of Suguru’s loose hair, tousled over his shoulders. Suguru wrapped his lips lightly around the cockhead, tasting, the warm, slightly salty taste of the pre cum bursting on his tongue, wiping away any remain of the sweetness in his mouth in one fell swoop. Calmly, reveling in Satoru's slightly quickened breathing, he finished swallowing the rest.

“Oh,” Satoru squeaked, pressing his fingers into Suguru’s hair hard enough to hurt. “You're so good at this.”

Suguru dragged his lips up and down, enjoying the smooth weight on his tongue. He opened his eyes, casting a glance upwards, at Satoru's crooked, overwhelmed expression, as if just that first suck might be enough to break him. Maybe it was. Suguru returned to the head, running his tongue over the sponge of nerves there, enjoying the little squirt of pre cum that landed on his tongue the exact right moment after he did that, leaving a wet kiss on the shaft.

“I want to fuck your throat,” Satoru pleaded, his voice broken with a tinge of a giggle that had nothing to do with laughter.

Suguru blinked, slapping his tongue with the fat cockhead a couple of times, sucking it again before speaking.

“Don't you think you're asking too much?”

Satoru dropped his head back, digging his nails into his scalp as Suguru swallowed him again, this time all the way down his throat, hollowing his cheeks so he could suck him right. Suguru could feel him, trembling beneath his hands, his body breaking apart under the touch of his hand. Satoru was, at least when it came to sorcery, a promise, a prodigy, a genius—sometimes the thought of what he might become in the future would make him a little bit nervous, but not now. Now, when Suguru was the beginning and end of Satoru’s sanity. Not now, with his fingers digging so hard into Suguru's hair like his life depended on it, like his life started and ended there, at the edge of Suguru’s lips.

Suguru closed his eyes, pulling back up only to immediately go down again, his cock almost painful in the prison of his own sweatpants. He took a shallow breath, pulling away, hand pumping Satoru’s length without going too far from his lips, the burning need to feel Satoru's trembling down his fingers forcing him to bring his free hand to Satoru’s belly, almost vibrating beneath his touch. In the background, the sound of a new song on the player mixed with the creaking of the walls felt almost like an alien thought, washed under the sweet, overwhelming scent of Satoru's arousal, the taste of his bare skin, filling his senses and making him feel dizzy, light. Like in a dream.

Suguru didn't even realize he was grinding himself against the edge of the bed, absorbed in the cock stretching his lips, in the weight on his tongue, in how Satoru's cock was a little longer than average, just like all of him, and the thought of gratitude he had at his lack of gag reflex thanks to swallowing curses every other day almost made him laugh, the vibration in his throat making Satoru whimper. His hips thrust forward, maybe unwillingly, maybe not, dropping his back onto the mattress and pulling Suguru’s hair hard.

“Suguru, let me fuck your mouth, come on,” he gasped again, useless.

Suguru peeled his lips away from his cock, catching the trickle of spit that kept them connected with his tongue, sincerely appreciating the angry, bright red color while he strokes it. “You're so stubborn, huh.”

“Then let me cum in your mouth.”

Suguru cocked his head to the side, mumbling, going back to sucking him. Satoru thrusted against his mouth, moaning deeply, almost sobbing at how little resistance he met. He did it once, twice, fast, almost like he was making the most of the moment before Suguru regretted giving him this small space of acceptance and had to do it all sped up, pulling at his hair. Suguru let his jaw lax, leaving both hands still on the soft, firm flesh of his thighs as Satoru fucked into his mouth again and again, thrusting in and out of the tight, wet ring of his lips without stopping him. Suguru closed his eyes, rubbing unrestrained against the soft, cushioned edge of the bed, enjoying everything, from the insufficient, frustrating friction to the sensation of having his mouth full, stretched, spit dripping down his chin and not giving a shit about it.

The rattle of Satoru's moans continued to crescendo, to the point where they became all Suguru could hear, even above his thoughts. Satoru jumped up, peeling himself off the bed until he was sitting up, holding Suguru's head in both hands, wild.

“Shit. Fuck.”

Suguru opened his eyes, because he had to see, he needed to see it, the moment Satoru’s features shattered into pieces, his upper lip curved violently, twisting in an attempt to contain the growl rising from his chest. Suguru could feel the moment his cock throbbed, swelling almost impossibly in the circle of his lips, the first spurt of hot cum making both of them groan. Satoru closed his eyes, throwing his head back, the long white column of his neck bare when he let his throat go screaming one name, only one.

Suguru.

Suguru pulled away, watching Satoru’s cock trembling pitifully, smearing part of the skirt with cum in his haste to propel himself upwards so he could kiss him. Satoru complied, falling exhausted against the bed under Suguru's weight. His mouth opened, eager, letting him spit some of his cum into it, reaching under Suguru's old sweater and yanking it off, squeezing his waist and chest and anywhere else he could touch put his hands on.

“God, I love you,” he murmured, his voice breathy, exhausted. Suguru bit the corner of his mouth, also delighted. “Come on, let me suck you off. Ride my face.”

Suguru growled, kissing him one last time before pulling away, rolling onto his back to undo his pants and climb over Satoru's chest. Suguru watched him lick his lips, the gleam in his gradually less dark eyes burning when he noticed Suguru spitting on his hand, wrapping it around his cock and stroking himself a couple of times.

“Open your mouth,” he ordered.

Satoru smiled, opening his mouth obediently and letting Suguru feed him his cock, losing himself in the wet, eager heat that awaited him. Suguru threw his head forward without bothering to cover his moan, black hair falling like a curtain on either side of his face as he slid in and out of his lips, thrusting hard when Satoru murmured quietly, the vibration sending a rush of pleasure up and down the length of his shaft, spreading through the rest of his body like an avalanche.

Suguru trailed trembling fingers down Satoru’s cheek, desperate to touch where his cock bulged every time he thrust, pausing to bite the inside of his own mouth when Satoru groaned further back, resting his left hand awkwardly on Suguru’s lower back and urging him to fuck his mouth the same way he did a few minutes before. Suguru arched his back, wiggling his hips in a steady rhythm and chasing that flash of pleasure that seemed to be within reach, too far away to touch but so close he could feel it on the tip of his tongue, sinking again and again into the soft, hungry cavern that imprisoned him, not bothering to stop the steady gasp of "ah, ah, ah" that escaped from between his teeth. Satoru moaned again, digging his fingers into his skin, and Suguru knew he was lost.

He rammed a couple more times, reluctant to lose the delicious wetness that embraced him, stopping only when he knew he was at the point of no return. He pulled out of Satoru's mouth, who gasped loudly, trying to get all the air he could into his lungs, before Suguru wrapped his hand around his cock and jerking it just three times, cuming on Satoru’s face. Suguru groaned, or thinks he groaned, falling forward, barely supporting himself with a shaking arm as the orgasm tore him apart, leaving him like an old puzzle that's lost all its pieces.

“I could have swallowed it, you know,” Satoru muttered, his voice stifled and rough against his hip bone.

Suguru shook his head, dropping awkwardly to his side. He flicked his hair away from his face, still seeing glimmers behind his eyelids, glancing over at Satoru, who had propped himself up on his side and was looking down at him with an incredibly indulgent and self-satisfied grin, sporting his swollen lips and face adored with white globs of cum like a trophy.

“I know.”

Suguru drew him closer, running his tongue along Satoru’s cheek, licking up the traces of his cum before kissing him. Satoru accepted quickly, almost purring like a cat— tangling gentle fingers in his hair, brushing a strand away from his face and smiling that trademark grin of his when they broke apart.

“I think I ruined the skirt,” he said, glancing down at his waist. He didn't sound the least bit sorry.

“Yes you did,” Suguru wasn't either.

“Well,” Satoru threw his arms over his head, stretching. His eyes were almost blue again, slowly leaving the cloudy sky behind to become the color of the universe again, “I really paid Mei Mei good money for it. It’s mine now.”

“You're absolutely right.”

Satoru stood up, treating Suguru to the ridiculously hot sight of his full, half naked body, only the skirt falling laconically over his thighs with a parade of half-dried cum stains.

“I'm going to take a bath. You coming?”

Suguru suddenly noticed the change of music, jumping from one song to another that he actually did know and like, a bit because of the amount of times Satoru could get to listen to it a day, and also because he really liked it. He had to shake his head, holding back the urge to sing.

“Are we going to fuck?” Suguru asked, standing up anyway. “I want to brush my teeth.”

Satoru shrugged.

“Maybe. We still have all day tomorrow.”

“Well.”

They ended up fucking anyway.