When life gives you lemons

Parsley (Gojo x Geto)

🥦agoraphelia
🌶 dirty talk

"You're such a cheep whore, Suguru."

Geto moaned at the deprecating comment, tilting his head back to offer better access to his neck. Gojo took it, pressing his lips to the hollow of his throat, dragging his teeth across the skin. There was something thrilling about having the strongest Jujutsu Sorcerer of the age at his throat, knowing full well that in a battle of power, no one could hold a candle to Gojo Satoru.

It also didn't help that they were doing it in a place like this, where anybody could stumble upon them if they weren't careful. The possibility of being found out made the arousal burn low and hot in his gut. He gasped when Gojo rolled his hips against his, the friction against his length after a night of stimulation making his muscles seize in pleasure.

"I wanted to buy you dinner first, but you can't help but jump on my dick." Gojo breathed, lips closing around Geto's pale skin and sucking a red bruise onto it. With any luck, it would stay for days. Gojo was... territorial, for lack of a better word, and often left hickeys in the most obvious and hard to reach places, ensuring that Geto couldn't cover them up. He always did, though, but he secretly loved being marked up, feeling the sensitive skin days after as a reminder of being cornered, being dominated by the best.

"Well," Geto's voice was low and full of lust to his own ears, but rather than trying to stifle it, he doubled down, adding a drag to his voice as if he could reach out and stroke Gojo with his voice. "If you hadn't stuck a vibe up my ass and refused to turn it off, I wouldn't be so needy."

Gojo chuckled darkly, his blue eyes piercing into Geto. "Well maybe if you hadn't been such a brat," he nearly growled, the timbre of his voice sending heat straight to Geto's cock. "You were asking for it."

That was true. Geto could be a bit of a brat just because he knew it would get under Gojo's skin. Because he knew he wouldn't be able to help but dominate him. It was what he craved, and he'd do anything to get it.

The night was cold, and a chill rode on the wind as it filtered through the trees. Gojo's hair ruffled with it, and he shivered slightly, leaning closer for warmth. Geto was happy to wrap his arms around his shoulders and cling as Gojo fumbled with their zippers.

Sliding the zipper down and taking out both of their cocks, Geto flinched as it was met with chilly air, but was distracted when Gojo dove in for a kiss. He immediately melted, kissing back with fervent passion, sharing every hot inhale and exhale,  velvet tongues dancing together.

Geto couldn't help but moan when Gojo's deft hand expertly slid up his length, sending warm shocks through him. "Satoru,"

Gojo groaned, taking both of their cocks in his hand, stroking them together. Geto let out a trippy exhale, looking up at the dark, frosty sky. Not a star was visible due to light pollution, but he liked to think they were all staring down at them.

Gojo began reverently kissing down Geto's jaw, tongue and lips and teeth leaving a haphazard trail of red skin in its wake. "Satoru," He said breathlessly when he nipped at his Adam's apple, letting his own hands wander under Gojo's shirt to the hot skin beneath, using his nails to scratch at his back.

Gojo moaned, loud and unabashed, and Geto can't help but tense in apprehension. What if someone hears them?

"We'll be fine." Gojo muttered as if he read his thoughts, and the next stroke effectively scatters them.

Geto hadn't realized just how worked up Gojo's little vibe game left him. He felt like every nerve was alight with pleasure all the way down to his fingertips, coherent words scattered to the wind as a litany of moans fell from his slick lips.

Gojo's hand was warm and enveloping, insistent, their cocks being pressed together, sliding with mixing pre come. It made for the best kind of friction, and that combined with the sharp tug on his hair that forced his head back made him moan low in his throat, volume ringing through the bare branches of the trees.

He already felt so close, like he was toeing the line and about to lose his balance and fall into depravity. But like this, with Gojo wrapped around him, kissing him, licking him, he wouldn't have it any other way.

It was another sharp yank on his hair that did it, Gojo's hands squeezing around their dicks and his warm breath on his collarbone, moans sounding against his skin.

Geto let out a small shout as he spilled over Gojo's hand, still working them higher and higher until the air got thin and Geto couldn't breathe, nails embedded in Gojo's back and limbs taught.

It was only moments until Gojo came with a shout, but it seemed like eternity. When he finally let go, Geto sagged against the tree, using it for support as he panted.

"Dammit, Satoru." He huffed with a narrow glare. "I wanted you to fuck me." Yeah, the vibe was still in his ass, nestled deep against his prostate. It wasn't on, but every movement was tantalizing and drove him crazy. After that hand job, he only seemed to notice it more.

He was still excruciatingly horny. He wanted dick in his ass yesterday.

He gave a small growl of annoyance when Gojo chuckled, righting himself and putting his softening cock back in his pants. His eyes were full of mischief and amusement, his lips pulled up in a smirk. "Well aren't you such a slut.  We'll fuck when we get back. You're the one who wanted to go on a proper date."

"I never said—"

Geto was cut off by a chaste kiss, Gojo being kind enough to help him back into his own pants. He idly put his hand in his pocket (the pocket where Geto knew he had the remote), and Geto stiffened, trying to brace himself for the abuse in his prostate to commence.

The bastard.

Surely he didn't expect Geto to sit through an entire dinner at a restaurant making shitty small talk while he tried not to writhe in his seat? Well, apparently he did, because when their eyes met, Gojo's smirk developed into a wicked grin.

"Come on, we've got a dinner to go to. And maybe after that I'll fuck your brains out."