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sip you through my front teeth (held too close)

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"Satoru," Kento breathes against the hot, insistent press of his partner's mouth.

Try as Kento might, it's... difficult, to stop Satoru when he gets like this. 

That he was able to make it home before satoru to shower off the dried blood and debris of the absolute nightmare that was today is a feat in itself. 

As Satoru pulls at his shirt, hands splayed wide against the skin of his torso as they map him, Kento thinks he should've skipped the clothes. 

"Off, off off off," Satoru pants, bites at the corner of Kento's mouth, the line of his jaw, his ear lobe. 

"Bedroom," Kento gasps out as one of Satoru's hands sweeps over the hypersensitive flesh of a new scar-- one of many, only hours healed -- while the other grabs roughly at his ass. 

He pushes and Satoru finally gives, starts to walk the few feet back into their bedroom, where Kento was headed when Satoru popped into their home, breathing heavy and looking frantic. 

When they reach the edge of the bed Satoru turns Kento and eases him into sitting, pulls back to lift his shirt over and off, dropping it to the floor. 

He runs his hands over Kento's shoulders, the top of his chest, up his neck to cradle his face in both hands and kiss him, hard. So hard Kento starts to lean back, and Satoru guides him down, down, down, onto his back, into the almost prickling cool of their sheets. 

"Let me see you, baby." Satoru whispers into the small space between them, pressing their foreheads together. 

Kento opens his eyes and Satoru's are waiting for him, endless and soft and blue like his favorite summer skies. He holds them with his own as gently as he can, does his best to show Satoru that, yes, he's here. That sorcery did not take him today. That he is still Satoru Gojo's like Satoru Gojo is still his, and that this is still their home, their bed, their love. 

I'm here , Kento says with the tender press of his kiss to the corner of Satoru's mouth, I’m yours, still. 

Satoru makes a quiet sound and aligns their mouths properly, moving against Kento perfectly warm. They kiss long and unhurried, mouths open, tongues soft. So long that when Satoru moves away Kento knows he's flushed to his collar bones. 

"More," Satoru breathes, kisses turning fervent, trailing down Kentos neck to his chest, stomach, biting teasingly at the skin above the waistband of his pants. " More , Kento. let me see all of you." 

Kento swallows, want landing weighty and hot at the base of his spine from the burning look in Satoru's eyes. He runs a hand through all that silky white hair, exposing his forehead, watches those dandelion lashes fall closed with a moan pressed into Kento's hip. 

"Of course, love," Kento rasps. "Whatever you need."

" You ." Satoru's hands are already pulling Kento's pants and underwear over the curve of his ass, down his thighs and calves. "You're all I need right now."

Satoru pulls his own shirt and jacket off from where he's kneeling between Kento's legs, and Kento watches -- want blooming up and into his chest -- as he kisses his way back up his thighs and hips to standing, eyes hungrily tracing Kento's body as he kicks off the rest of his clothes until he's naked, cock already hard and curving out from between his legs. 

Kento could stare at the long fluid lines of Satoru for days, but right now wants him close, all that unscarred warm skin on his. He scoots back towards the top of the bed to make room and props himself up on elbow, extends his other hand at the same time Satoru does, lacing their fingers together. 

Kento is about to pull him down into another kiss -- missing the taste of his mouth -- when Satoru stills, gaze low on Kento's body. He follows his eyes to one of the largest of Kento's healed wounds -- what was a wide gash from the inside of his left thigh to nearly the apex of his hip.

Kento is lucky the curse didnt think to injure him until the end of the fight, lucky Shoko was already on her way to him, and luckier still that he still had his tie intact to stem the bleeding as much as he could. 

"Satoru," Kento says with a squeeze of their hands, "I'm alright."

Satoru eyes flick up to meet Kento's and he nods, but even after a light pull he stays right where he is, free hand rubbing small circles near the edge of the scar. 

"Sato-"

"Kento," Satoru says, and all the sound seems to leave the room with the steel in his voice. It's in his eyes too, as he bends, artfully slow -- never once looking away from Kento's meeting stare -- to fit his mouth over the scar at its widest, where it begins to curve onto the top of his thigh. 

Kento sucks in a breath through his teeth, grips Satoru's hand harder as he laves his tongue over the fresh smooth of it -- feeling too hot to Kento's healing nerves. 

It is moments like this where Kento is reminded just how greedy Satoru's mouth is -- how he talks, and talks, and talks , in some sort of attempt to throw you off from how desperately he wants to eat the world, how much he feels it's his right to do so. 

How, right now -- as Satoru shapes his mouth to suck, moving ever so slowly towards Kento's hip, forcing a stuttering moan out of him -- Kento is Satoru's whole world, to be melted down and swallowed and reshaped between that pair of voracious lips however he sees fit. 

Satoru reaches the end of the scar and continues, up, to the sensitive crease of his hip. He pins Kento in place, irises nearly glowing, the weight  and force of all six eyes on him, keeping him from looking away as he works the skin under his mouth with teeth and slick tongue. Kento's legs are shaking with the effort to not squirm, breathing out in quick puffs. 

Satoru's eyes flash with blistering desire, all the warning Kento gets before he's sucking Kento's skin into his mouth, biting hard enough to bruise at the same time he presses a thumb into the tender flesh of his scar. 

Kento moans, loud and deep in his chest, the sound filling the room. Barely keeps his eyes from closing in sharp edged bliss. 

Satoru groans against him, and as if a toll has been paid, closes his eyes and frees Kento just in time for his head to fall back as Satoru moves down a lip's width along the crease to create a new mark. 

The anchor of their joined hands isn't nearly enough for the current level of Satoru's intensity. Kento brings his free hand up to fist in all that gorgeous white hair -- not pulling but grip firm near the roots -- just like Satoru likes. 

Satoru's response is immediate, a loud whine from the back of his throat as he sucks and licks and nips across the cradle of Kento's pelvis to the base of his cock. 

Kento can't help the small jump of his hips at the firm lick to the side of the base. Satoru lets out a breathy laugh, cutting off Kento's apology with a series of quiet groans as he noses lower, and lower still, eager mouth stopping at the delicate skin behind his sack. 

"Satoru" kento breathes out, and he moans again, licking wide and slow and firm, back up to pull one of Kento's balls into his mouth, working it with his tongue. A shiver racks up Kento's spine and he arches off the bed, moans tossed to the ceiling. 

Satoru keeps this up for long minutes, his noisy mouth hot and firm, until Kento's thighs shake and his head is all rushing blood and fuzz. He's so lost in the pleasure that when Satoru's knuckles press hard into his perineum he shouts, Satoru moaning loud and long in response. 

Usually Kento has no problem holding back his orgasm but Satoru has been working his most sensitive spots for too long without reprieve, keying him up, higher and higher until the only way down is to come or stop touching Kento for several minutes. And with the way Satoru is clinging to him, face still buried in his groin, panting and whining, Kento will be subject to that ravenous touch until Satoru is satisfied. 

"Satoru," Kento pants, "I'm close-" he blinks hard, mouth falling open when there's a brief, firm suck to the underside of his length and then down, Satoru's hand fondling his balls with just the right pressure. " Shit . I'm going to come."

Satoru nearly keens, efforts redoubling, as he squeezes their still joined hands. 

"Come for me, baby," Satoru groans against him, the vibrations making his cock jump, "I need it, Kento, come for me."

Kento cant stop moaning- he's so close he just needs --

There's another insistent press to his perineum, a filthy swirl of tongue to the head and he's coming, toes curling as the orgasm hits him harder than expected, burning pleasure spreading out from his core until his toes and fingers are tingling with static buzz. 

Kento's senses come back gradually as he evens his breathing, feels his cock twitch when he registers Satoru's mouth, softer this time, licking up his cum while he whines desperately. 

He moves the hand still in Satoru's hair down to the back of his neck and pulls gently until those forget-me-not blues are on him again. 

"Come up here and let me kiss you, Satoru."

"Yes yes yes ," Satoru crawls up his body and soon enough their mouths are joined again, Kento sighing into the kiss as he swallows Satoru's increasingly needy moans. He keeps his hand on the back of Satoru's head, holding firm as he deepens the kiss -- doing his best to claim Satoru in a way that he knows submerges him even deeper in pleasure. 

He can feel Satoru leaking hot and hard against his stomach, twitching rhythmically as if his own orgasm is right there

"What do you need, love?" Kento kisses a firm line from his mouth to jaw to just behind his ear, moves his other hand to palm at the round of his ass. 

Satoru whimpers, presses back into his hand and mouth, as if all he needs is Kento's touch. 

Kento knows this. Of course he does -- they've been partners for years now. 

But he wants to hear it. 

"Use your words, darling," he says, rasping and low -- almost a growl --with a quick bite to his skin. 

"Y-your hand- anything, baby, please-"

Kento smiles into his next kiss at the hinge of Satoru's jaw. He wants to tease -- just a little -- to drive Satoru further into pleasurable haze.  He pulls down with the grip he has on Satoru's ass at the same time he rolls his own hips up in a steady, forceful grind. 

"Like this?" He says, trying to pitch his voice in the way that makes Satoru shiver. 

Satoru makes a beautiful noise, high and breaking, hands coming up to grip around his biceps, hips starting up a quick rhythm. He's panting, quiet little "yes, yesyesyes-"s falling between his moans. 

Kento wants to feel him come apart when they're pressed close like this.  Can feel his limit in the tension of his body. 

He brings his face up to rejoin their mouths, sucks at Satoru's bottom lip and rolls his body up again, presses a finger against Satoru's hole. 

Satoru inhales fast and deep -- seems to freeze on top of him -- and then he's coming, spilling hot between them, breathless with the force of it. 

Kento holds him through it. Wraps his arm around the small of his back and brings Satoru's head to rest in the crook of his neck. Runs his fingers through slightly damp hair. 

Kento closes his eyes and just listens as Satoru's breathing evens out, indulging in the slow minutes of their bodies pressed together like this. 

Eventually, Satoru kisses the side of Kento's neck, once, twice, before propping himself up on elbows. He lets his hands slide down to rest between satoru's shoulder blades, tracing light circles with the tips of his fingers. 

He watches as Satoru's eyes run over his features, flicking over quickly and then again, deliberate and slow, until they're locking eyes. 

(Kento takes the time to look over Satoru's face too -- the overall shape, still a bit soft on a kento's never was. The fall of his hair, the light flush of his mouth and cheeks. The way his eyes are a bit deeper blue when he's sated, comfortable.)

Satoru brings his hand up to trace faintly at Kento's mouth -- reverent in prayer -- before cupping his face as if it were a delicate, precious thing. 

"Are you alright?" Satoru asks, thumb running over the high of Kento's cheek. 

He notes the small furrow between Satoru's brows, the light purse of his lips. Kento stretches up to kiss both a way, two quick pecks. "I am."

Satoru has always been much more well mannered in bed. Kento can't help but find it a bit funny. His mouth must show it because Satoru's eyes flick down before resettling on his eyes. 

"Laughing at something?" 

Kento lets out a little laugh and tells him such, to which Satoru flushes and says with a pout, "I'm not rude to you."

Kento smiles. Satoru seems to eat it up.  "Not as much anymore, no."

He huffs, pretending to be put out, but he's eyeing Kento's mouth, so Kento tilts his head up in invitation and satoru is there in a single movement. 

It's nowhere close to the gnawing hunger from earlier -- just a chaste press of their mouths, lazily curling, easy heat. A sigh pressed delicate between the seams of their lips. 

Satoru pulls back enough to press their foreheads together and Kento looks half lidded into all that frost blue. "Can we go again?" He gives a slight wiggle of his hips. 

"Not satisfied?" Kento asks like he can't feel Satoru half hard and continuing to swell along his thigh. 

He hums. "Less that and more-" he licks his lips, exhales, "I want you inside me." 

He smiles again, all fondness and a touch of hunger. "Who am I to say no." 

He starts to move to reach for lube and condoms but Satoru presses a hand to his chest. "Let me take care of it, baby."

Kento lets his arms drop away, and with a quick stretch Satoru has both beside them. Is rolling a condom over two fingers before pouring lube over them to warm. 

"Are you going to let me help with that?" Kento asks lightly with a mild raise of his brow. 

Satoru shakes his head and smirks -- aiming for cocky, but something about it makes it sit... off, on his face -- as he repositions himself in Kento's lap and begins to reach around. "Nope. Just let me look at you." 

Kento huffs, resettling himself "Can I touch you at least?"

Satoru smiles, eyebrows pinching as he presses into himself. "I always love when you do."

Kento waits and just watches as Satoru sets an even pace to work himself up and open, watches as his eyelids and head droop with concentration. 

There's a pretty flush starting to spread down his neck to bloom on his chest, a fine sweat breaking out over his body. 

Kento always thinks he's especially stunning, like this. 

At the first touch of Kento's hands on his knees, Satoru gasps, rhythm stuttering just so. 

(Kento is suddenly reminded of one of the first times they had sex. He'd worked Satoru to near wordlessness with just his hands and mouth. He's so sensitive to touch -- even with previous partners he'd kept infinity up, (aside from the places that he needed exposed of course) so when Kento had gotten his hands and body against him he'd come apart, gorgeous and quick. 

(Satoru would call the way he came so fast after so little embarrassing, but Kento always thinks on it with deep fondness.)

He pets up and down Satoru's legs, his sides and arms, the curve of his back. Not too heavy but tactile, steady pressure, even and lingering. Watches waves and waves of goosebumps trail after his hands -- soaks in the way Satoru full body shudders and mewls. 

Soon enough Satoru is fully hard again, precum beading at his tip, panting as his hips move just a little. Kento is sure he's just as hard now, if not most of the way there, from the sight of satoru worked up and open for him alone. 

Satoru lets out a breathy moan, blinks his eyes open fully to discard the condom over his fingers and open a new one. He maneuvers himself to get  hands on Kento's cock, gives a playful pull with an equally teasing look under his lashes, before rolling the condom down and repositioning himself with the head against his hole. 

Kento meets his hungry gaze as he splays both hands on Kento's chest and eases himself down, achingly slow, Satoru's head dropping, until he's seated fully, ass flush to the top of Kento's thighs. 

Kento waits for him to adjust and steady his breathing. Rubs his thumbs in circles where his hands have come to rest on the smooth skin of Satoru's hips. 

Kento is content to wait for as long as needed, enjoy the feel of them together, the way his hands can hold the man he so deeply loves, just like this, when one of Satoru's hands comes to rest over his and grips him, hard. 

"Satoru? Talk to me."

His shoulders shake once, the breath he lets out wet, and when he looks up his eyes are full of barely held back tears. 

"Oh, Satoru." Kento cups his face and he instantly leans into it, chest heaving once with a sob as tears spill over. 

"Is it rude of me to hate that you're a sorcerer? When we met because of it?"

"I think it's fair to hate your loved ones doing dangerous things for work."

"I wish I could be annoyed that you’re so good at knowing what to say," he answers with a sniff. 

Kento shakes his head a little -- he doesn't, and they've talked about this, but now isn't the time -- wipes away some of the tears under Satoru's eye with his thumb. 

"Talk to me?" He asks again, quiet, gentle. 

"Gods i just can't-" he sobs again, tears falling faster down his face, "I got that text from Shoko saying you were okay but might need a bit of monitoring and of course my mind went to the worst place." His face crumples and Kento's heart aches. 

"Satoru, I'm right here love." He gives his hand a squeeze. 

"I know, I know that, I just can't- I'm so glad-" he turns so his cheek is pressed into Kento's palm, slides the hand still on his chest until it's over his heart. Links their fingers and brings them up until Kento's hand is pressed over the fluttering in Satoru's own chest. 

"I love you. I love you so much. I need you here.

Please don't go anywhere I can't see."

Kento knows how much his own contentment with his probable death at the hands of a curse bothers Satoru. They fight about it, still, -- Kento often clamming up when Satoru refuses to drop it before teleporting out of the room in such force there's a vacuum that pulls items off shelves and tables. 

It's much less than they used to, when they were younger and both still raw with hurting from massive personal losses in the long way that grief often takes. But it's one of the few things they've never found a compromise for. 

There's never really distance from death, in this line of work, but he has the fresh scars to show that he came much closer than usual today. 

He will never fault Satoru for needing comfort in this. Knows he's lucky that he's still here to give it. 

"I won't, Satoru," he turns his head gently so even through tears their eyes meet. "I'm here. As long as you want me, I'm here. I love you so much. I will always do my best to come back to you."

"What if I want you forever?" satoru asks between sobs. 

Kento allows himself a small smile. "Then of course that's what I'll aim to give you."

"Come here," he says, whisper soft. Satoru cradles Kentos face between his palms, folds into him like it's natural, that he's always belonged in Kento's embrace. 

He kisses his way down Satoru's face -- forehead to temple, eye to nose to cheek, the corner of his mouth, finally slotting their lips together proper, pouring the whole of his affection into Satoru as he holds him, reassuring and firm, across the shoulders. 

He takes his time, kissing honey slow and just as thick, as sweet. Bares himself so Satoru can take whatever he needs. So he can be given back to just as evenly. Runs his other hand soothingly up and down the middle of his back. 

Satoru's breath is even after some time and he sighs, nuzzling into Kento's chest. 

He laughs a bit as he starts to kiss the underside of Kento's jaw. 

"Care to share?"

"It's nothing really," he laughs again, fuller this time, "Just feeling a little silly for falling apart like that while we're in the middle of something." He rolls his hips where they are still connected for emphasis, and Kento can feel Satoru's smirk on his skin as he sucks in a quick breath. 

"It was and is important. If you need to talk about it, we will." Kento tips his head back to bare more of his throat for Satoru's wandering mouth. "It's not difficult to pick up where we left off either." He meets the next roll of Satoru's hips, both of them groaning quietly. 

They work back up to full arousal, satoru leaving open mouth kisses along his neck and shoulders, hands pulling lightly through his hair. 

Satoru lifts his hips almost all the way off Kento's cock and drops back down in an attempt to take him deeper. 

"More, baby," he sighs, "I'm ready. I want you," lays more kisses and nips along Kento's shoulder.  

Kento smiles, kisses the side of his face before fisting his hand through Satoru's hair, holding him in place with the arm across his lower back as he plants his feet on the bed, angles his hips and presses in, as far as he can go, in the same instance he pulls Satoru down against him. 

"Ahh-! Kento-!" He pulls Satoru's hair until his head is tilted back, that hammering pulse exposed right over his mouth. 

"Yes, Satoru?" He bites right over the middle of Satoru's throat, luxuriates in the following full body shudder and stuttering moan. 

"Righ-- ah! -- right there, fuck- " he makes a desperate, scattering noise as Kento starts a slow merciless grind into him. 

He pins Satoru in place, only enough slack for the slightest movement of those long limbs and starts an unhurried pace, sliding smooth and wet, in and out of all that tight velvet heat. 

He whines and mewls and writhes as Kento marks up his neck -- just the way he likes -- can do nothing but pant and whimper as Kento stokes the heat between them to burning, near blinding pleasure. 

Satoru's orgasm seems to take him by surprise as much as it does Kento, suddenly shouting as he clenching as his body shakes and shakes. 

Kento gently fucks him through it with shallow thrusts until he goes slack in Kento's hold. He moves their faces together and Satoru immediately opens for a kiss, savoring the way he's so lax and open, letting Kento lick into his mouth until he's had his fill.  

His palms come to rest on Satoru's sides as he moves up to sitting, face and chest beautifully red with flush, gaze just a little hazy with pleasure but still so endlessly fond. 

"Gonna make you come again," he breathes out, smiling a little lopsided from the comedown. Kento can't help but smile back, it's one of his favorite Satoru expressions. 

"Only if you come with me," Kento teases. 

Satoru laughs, soft and bubbling, sinks teeth into his plush bottom lip with a half roll of his hips. "I'll try my best." 

They move together, languid and in near perfect sync, Kento's moans and sighs meeting each of Satoru's. 

"I'm close," Kento says with a grind where Satoru's most sensitive just to watch the way his spine curls, hear the way he nearly sobs with it. 

"I can't wait to watch you come, baby," he forms a tight fist over his cock, hips stuttering with the added pleasure. 

Kento is too close to form any sort of coherent sentence so he gives Satoru's waist a squeeze, meets the next cresting wave of their hips with more of the fervor pulsing through him. 

He keeps their pace slow but brings his hips up harder each time, gasping at the way Satoru grips around him, the way the heat of him seems to compound. 

"Come on, give it to me," Satoru whines, another moan hitching in his throat.

A groan rumbles through Kento's chest as Satoru's hand spread across his chest, pinching his nipples, sending sparks through him as he drags nails down Kento's torso. 

Satoru is watching him, eyebrows pinched, lips parted as he pants and cries out, but still watching -- pupils blown wide, as if trying to swallow Kento in this moment down, all for Satoru's keeping. 

The drag of them together is perfect heat and friction, and Kento's nerves are singing with pleasure as Satoru comes down hard and rocks on him, squeezing. He comes, choking on a shout before Satoru's name rushes out of his lungs. 

"Gods, baby, you're gorgeous-" Kento meets his eyes through blurry vision, orgasm stretching as Satoru flutters tighter and tighter around him. "You're making me come-- fuck I'm gonna come--"

Kento tilts his hips and pushes, right where Satoru needs it, groans as Satoru clenches around him, a high, long noise leaving his lips as he spills, hot and wet across Kento's stomach. 

He grinds himself in Kento's lap and whimpers, like he can't help but chase every bit of his pleasure, the last of his cum dribbling from the tip. 

Kento pulls him by the arm gently until he can guide Satoru to laying on him, kissing his cheek as they catch their breaths. 

"You're probably gonna want another shower before you sleep, huh," Satoru asks before kissing Kento's mouth, slow, basking in their afterglow. 

"Mhmm."

"Sorry," he's smiling. 

"No youre not," Kento chuckles against his lips. 

"You've caught me," he laughs. "Shower with me? I'll wash your back." 

He pulls off Kento with a soft huff and another quick kiss, moves off to dispose of the condom. 

"Oh? Kento, maybe we should do this more often," Satoru leers, dangling the condom like a pair of keys, "you came soooooo muphm-!"

Kento holds in his laugh as the pillow he'd thrown hits Satoru square in the face. 

"Rude!"

"You were asking for it."

He scoffs in mock offense, "The only thing I was asking for was more of your fat co-"

"Satoru!" He tosses another pillow, purposefully missing. Satoru yelps, then snickers as he finally walks out towards the bathroom. 

"Just a suggestion!"

Kento smiles fondly, stretches out on the bed, joints popping. What a charming, insufferable man he's chosen to love. 

Satoru pops his head around the doorframe a few moments later, brow raised. "Are you coming?"

Kento sighs and reaches out his hand. "Help me up, please?"

Satoru is by his side in a few quick steps, supporting and pulling him, concerned eyes scanning over kento's body. "Are you alright?"

Kento smiles reassuringly as he stands. "Fine, just tired. My partner is notoriously insatiable." 

Satoru pouts but Kento can see the relief in his eyes, the way his shoulders relax. "No one could possibly blame me when you look as good as you do, baby."

 "I'll take your word," he kisses Satoru's cheek. "Shower?"

"Yes, yes, let's get the old man clean and dressed for bed."

"Re-dressed. I was already ready before someone jumped me."

Satoru lets out a loud laugh. "I'm going to wash your back, be nice!"

"No apology though," Kento says as they walk into the bathroom, moving to start the water before Satoru (gently) hip checks him out of the way. 

"I have nothing to apologize for." He steps into the shower, yelps at the still too cold water. 

Kento means to contain the laugh but it escapes him anyway. 

Satoru tries to pout but laughs too, moving out of the way as Kento steps in a few moments later. 

He does wash Kento's back, and most of the rest of him, peppering his shoulders and hands and face with kisses as he goes. 

Kento helps him wash his hair (after a makeout for convincing).

Satoru pampers him when they finish, too -- drying and moisturizing his skin, pulling some of his favorite clothes to sleep in from their dresser. 

He does thankfully let Kento make a light soup to go with their dinner of leftovers but does the washing after, chattering lightly here and there, blushing whenever he looks up to see Kento staring. 

When they make it to bed, Satoru pulls him close, tucks Kento into the space under his chin as he pets between his shoulders. 

"I love you," he says into his hair. 

"I love you," Kento answers into Satoru's collar bone, running his fingers over the small of his back. 

Satoru kisses the crown of his head and pulls him just a touch closer, Kento sighing as he sinks into the comfort. He's achey still, and a little tender in the way fresh scars leave him. 

But as Satoru -- with his warmth and soft touches -- continues to ease and soothe him. His love the most gentle salve as they fall further into sleep, each beat of Satoru's heart under his ear gently guiding him. 

And with a last affectionate squeeze-- the two of them, still, blessedly tangled together in this life, slip into deep, restful sleep.