For You, My Life.

Show and Tell

"Ugh, stop being so gentle- I'm not gonna break!"

Suguru pushed the pads of his index and middle fingers further into the slick warmth of the complaining man. The grooves of his molars gritted against one another as he continued his tease- if only to stave off the urge to plunge them further- to wreck the body they were inside of.

Though Suguru wasn't the only one withholding something- Satoru equally had their cocks pressed together and gripped like a vice- the pain of it mixing with his own desires while they laid in bed face to face, trying to see whose composure to cum would break first. A competition of intensity and erotic rule between two beings who weren't the least bit prepared to surrender in this game of sexual frustration. But if you asked Suguru, he was pretty sure Satoru stood no chance.

The one-armed sorcerer drug those exploring finger pads against Satoru's walls, felt the man shiver and hike his leg higher over Suguru's strong hip. "No? You look pretty fragile to me," he replied almost mercilessly, a dare of sorts.

"Ngh," Satoru groaned sharply. His hand couldn't even do its simple job to move up and down their joined, hardened, rubbing lengths- too distracted by the fingers between his cheeks and what felt like a third one creeping in to converge. "I'm not, stop acting like I am-" his breath hitched between pink lips. The razor-sharpness of his scratching inhale threatened his vocal cords as that exact third digit breached the tightness of the walls belonging to his puckering hole.

Suguru wasn't totally thrilled about the newly slacked, forgotten wrap of pale fingers around his cock- but in exchange for what he was seeing now? It was a negligible detail.

For Satoru's eyes were rolling- his mouth agape and huffing thin breaths of air. His cheeks turned rosy. The veins flexing on his neck highlighted the little hickeys that Suguru had given him last night. And the night before. They decorated Satoru's collarbone and shoulders and pecs. There were some between his porcelain thighs and on his hips, all of which were quite difficult for Suguru to admire at this moment. Their contrasting bodies too pressed in this current state.

But that was okay, they'd be there later. Since Satoru simply 'didn't feel like' healing the bruises and hickeys with his reverse cursed technique. At least that's what he'd told Suguru.

"Too much?" Suguru asked, finally getting that third finger as deep as the other two so that all three could stroke and prod and explore in tandem.

Satoru panted like an animal and whined like a brat as an answer.

Suguru watched those silvery white lashes flutter and the globes of blue pools behind them roll when his middle, longest digit found that bundle of nerves embedded deep within. His forehead pressed into those fluffy ivory strands and he gently kissed the corner of that lovely relaxed, half-pouted mouth.

Suguru studied Satoru's every inhale and flexing of lean muscle. Trying to read him like a book with new language, something localized enough to be just barely understood- yet so foreign that his eyes strained to make the careful connections of the plot as it unfolded in mysterious characters and syllables.

The whole experience not new, but invigorating as it was Satoru Gojo and none other. A fact that made it equally as nerve-wracking. As if any misdirected tone of verbiage could change the book's story just by the stroke of his exploring fingers.

After all, this only began about two weeks ago.

That night when they'd hooked up had left a lingering desire each time Satoru came home.

A tension thick with volition and bad ideas displayed like a face-down hand of cards for Suguru to blindly choose from in hopes that he wouldn't lose this dangerous little game that spurred from nothing but Satoru's inquisitive nature. Because as fact would have it, Satoru may have reacted poorly the first time they walked this path together. But with the residuals that encounter left behind, it only enabled the man's feline temperament to climb atop Suguru with privilege and want as before. A fixation that would lead them down the same sexually charged path day after day in its wake.