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Gojo has been incredibly clingy these past few days, and Nanami really can’t figure out why. It doesn’t help that Geto, too, kind of doesn’t seem to care much, even though Gojo usually hangs off of his shoulder. Nanami had been under the impression that these two had a… thing, so wouldn’t Geto be better off being jealous?
Speaking of, it isn't as if Geto has been acting completely normal either. Instead of the mildest shred of concern that his best friend was apparently outsourcing some of his invading-personal-space needs, he'd been hanging around the common areas of school a lot more. Staying for lunch after practice, Tokyo High gossip after classes, and showing up in tow a few minutes later behind Gojo when the latter barges into Nanami’s room inevitably every evening post dinner - if Nanami didn't know better, he'd think Geto was also being more clingy recently, albeit in a subtler, less in-the-face (or, in Gojo’s case, wrapped-around-his-shoulder) kinda way - and Nanami Kento has zero clue why.
The warning signs were there, but things truly began to spiral when Gojo casually flops onto Nanami’s bed, swinging his legs, and says, “I’ve decided you’re my favorite now, Nanamin~ Geto’s too emotionally stable.” Geto, who is calmly peeling an orange in the corner, as if he lives there now, just raises an eyebrow. “Bold of you to assume I’m stable." Nanami sighs, realizing he was slowly becoming the unwilling caretaker in a chaotic daycare for overpowered disasters.
Nanami is thinking about how he could get away with murder - maybe not in the literal sense, because while Gojo might be cheery enough to let him have a hit in, Nanami isn’t really delusional (or a murderer for that matter but that’s neither here nor there.) He doesn’t even know why he let himself be dragged into the room, but they’re not holding him hostage just yet, so he will just - leave.
“What a shame,” he replies to Gojo, completely disregarding Geto in the corner and promptly escapes the room - he can sleep somewhere else. Shoko would be sure to grant him harbour.
“So?” Geto drawls in Gojo’s direction once their junior has left the room (Geto doesn't know why it didn't happen sooner, but maybe he thought less of Nanami’s general patience with mankind than he ought to have). “You've got a new favorite, I believe?”
Gojo tuts in a tune, crossing the room to arrive at Geto's corner, planting his hands on either sides of his waist. “You know I lie to people who aren't you, silly.”
And that's exactly how all things go to hell, when Nanami reenters the room two minutes later because he's forgotten his phone charger - and never quite makes it out again.
Geto, completely unfazed, is popping orange slices in his mouth as he replies, “That's what you said to Yaga yesterday.”
Nanami backs away slowly, wondering if curses really were the worst thing about being a sorcerer.
Gojo spots him mid exit and points dramatically. “Don't walk out on us just like my dad did, Nanamin! We're finally making progress here!”
“Progress into my early grave, yes,” Nanami replies and thinks that there are more empty rooms he can sleep in. Not Gojo’s, naturally, because given his persona, it wouldn’t come as a surprise if everything in that room was either made out of or coated in sugar. Geto’s, then? No, no, an completely empty room will do, yes.
“Nanami, wait,” Geto calls, shoving Gojo’s face down and well, Nanami’s always liked him. “Despite Satoru’s, uh - Satoru-ness , we do have a legit proposition.”
Oh, he’s going to regret this, isn’t he?
Nanami pauses, arms folded over his chest, eyeing the two warily (Gojo’s promptly followed Geto out into the hallway, apparently unwilling to give Nanami’s brain the slightest reprieve from the visual of them together that've just been seared into his mind for heaven knows how long) but allows Geto to continue.
In typical Geto fashion, the words just roll off his tongue without a lone care for the effect they'll have on the listener. It works, generally, for he either uses it with Gojo (who's too busy fawning over him to be offended by a single thing he says anyway) or with others (who he doesn't care about). In Nanami’s case - it matters, because the words that fall from Geto's lips aren't ones he's going to forget easily.
Probably never at all.
“We've decided to adopt a goldfish, so we need you to be its official godfather.” Geto says, sighing. Gojo twirls once and nods solemnly like royalty approving a royal decree.
Nanami, dead inside, pulls out a stress ball out of his back pocket and whispers, “I knew I should've been an accountant”, wondering if he can squeeze it until it pops.
Geto waves his hands. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry - Satoru’s been rubbing off on me, is all. We did adopt a goldfish, but that’s neither here nor there… ehem, anyway, Nanami, you know that Satoru has, ah, liked you, yes?”
“No, I do not. And besides, are you two not… together? Joined at the hip? I thought only Ieri could squeeze in-between you two.”
“Well, yes, that’s true, but you see - Satoru likes likes you, and you know I’ve always liked you as well. So, we were wondering - while goldfish-adopting, no less - if you’d consider joining us in a more… intimate matter. If you don’t want, it doesn’t have to mean anything and I do vow to try and keep Satoru smothered with a pillow.”
“Ooh, kinky.” Gojo chimes in, at that, and then reading the room, pauses. “I mean, not if you're not into it. Then I'll just smother myself. Non-autoeroticasphyxiation-ally.”
Geto elbowed him in the ribs to shut up, as the both of them tried to read Nanami's expressions. But clearly, they failed, for none of them could've precedented what Nanami’s next words were.
“Sex.” He let out flatly, leaving no room for misinterpretations, in a way so intensely Nanami that his upperclassmen would've found his bluntless endearing, in the absence of current circumstances. “You want to have sex with me.” Both heads nod in perfect unrehearsed sync. “Both of you.”
“Preferably.” Gojo supplied, not unhelpfully.
Nanami sighed. Finally, an explanation , he thought internally. And externally, he nodded too, making his bangs bounce as he jerked his head suddenly. “Okay.”
Geto is speechless. Gojo squeals and throws himself into Nanami’s arms like a Disney princess mid-rescue, “I'm emotionally ovulating~”. Nanami catches him with the reflexes of a Grade 1 sorcerer and mutters “Fine …. But if anyone of you meows during it, I'll walk” Nanami sighs, glaring at both of his pain in the ass (soon to be quite literally) upperclassmen.
“Ideally, none of us can walk after this~” Gojo sing-songs, still holding onto Nanami.
Why is he agreeing to this? Maybe he is insane. Maybe everything is lost. At least they’re both pretty, and Geto has stuck with Gojo for all this time, so - it can’t be that bad, right? Maybe he’ll enjoy it, too. He dumps Gojo on the bed and the ass dares to look smug about it, too. At least he’s pretty. And Nanami can focus on Geto if it becomes too unbearable. Damn that thousand-watt-smile…
“I’m glad, Nanami,” Gojo says, “I wasn’t sure you would. I’ll be on good behaviour! You can choke me too~ Is there anything you don’t like?”
“You,” Nanami grits out, eyeing Gojo spread-eagled on the bed in front of him heatedly. He takes a breath, gulps, and then climbs up on the bed himself, straddling Gojo’s thighs - and to much of the latter’s surprise, as an obvious wide-eyed blush overtakes the offended pout he had been faking at Nanami’s words. “But not as much as I hate you talking. All the fucking time.”
Behind them, Geto snickers, clearly enjoying himself.
And Nanami doesn't know for whose benefit exactly he does what he does next - Gojo’s, whose lips had curled into a shit-eating grin of pride at the outcome he had faintly foreseen, Geto’s, who had walked up close now and was eyeing them with deliberate interest and a darkening glint in his eyes, or his own, as it wasn't like Nanami was entirely as asexual or robotic as he liked to project. He was 19 too, wasn't he? So he does exactly what any horny, repressed, living-out-a-dream-fantasy-with-the-two-strongest-sorcerers-in-the-entire-fucking-world 19-year-old in his position (atop a blue-eyed, pink-cheeked, beautiful Gojo Satoru) would've done.
He kisses Gojo.
Gojo’s breath stutters, the kind of quiet inhale that sounds foreign coming from someone as rambunctious as Gojo and Nanami feels it echo in his ribs, too loud to ignore.
Geto sits beside them, close but not pressing, brushing the bangs out of Nanami’s face like it's second nature. “You don’t have to pretend with us”, he murmurs, his voice a balm. Gojo’s hand comes to rest on Nanami’s thighs, warm, steady as Nanami leans down.
Gojo’s lips are soft, just like he expected - not that he ever thought about that, mind you, of course. When they part, because Nanami still isn’t all that sure about himself here, Gojo looks up at him, smiling sweetly and he takes his glasses off, putting them aside. His eyes are - really big and pretty. It might be better not to look into them for too long, lest he can never look away again.
Geto comes closer behind him, gently stroking his fingers over Nanami’s back, sending a soft shiver down his spine. Geto - Suguru - brushes his lips over Nanami’s cheek, not quite touching but still close enough to feel the tingling they leave behind. Gojo, meanwhile, unbuttons Nanami’s school jacket, but not the shirt underneath - he still feels strangely exposed.
“I,” he starts but doesn’t know how to continue. Gojo just smiles brightly.
“It’s a-okay,” he says in his best Mario-voice and - well, strangely, it takes the edge off, somehow. He’s going to hit him for that later; or maybe he’ll just forgive it. He can be good like that.
“Satoru,” Ge - Suguru reprimands the other, reaching over to pull at the man’s cheek.
“Okay, okay,” Gojo - or no, maybe Satoru - laughs and swats Suguru’s hand away. “Just lightening the mood, yeah? So, Nanami, have anything you wanna do? Or do you want us to take the lead?”
Nanami thinks about it - as well as anyone on earth could be thinking at a moment like this, sandwiched between the two most beautiful men on the planet.
Did he have anything he wanted to do? Well, maybe he did - maybe there's just a little something he's thought about sometimes when it's just him. Surely he can't say it though! Surely -
“Y-yes.”
“To which of those two?” Geto whispers, close enough to his ear that Nanami's back arcs and he throws his head back in embarrassment of the blush that ensues.
“The fi-first one.” He grits out, still unwilling to meet Gojo’s eyes so turning towards his left where Geto is instead. It's not a whole lot better because Geto is even more intimidatingly stunning from this up close - but it's still better than to look at Gojo's face when he says the next sentence. “I want him to ride me.”
Geto's lips curl while Gojo lets out a small indignant noise. Heaven knows the face he'd be making to go with it, all pouted lips and coy, flattered eyes prettily blinking Nanami away to oblivion. “Don't talk about me like I'm not here.”
Geto, of course, responds to that by not even acknowledging Gojo's presence. “Alright.” He says simply. “Sounds like a plan.”
Gojo huffs - petulant - as he pushes Nanami back, flat onto the bed, straddling him like he owns him. And knowing Gojo, he probably thinks he does. “You want me to ride you, huh?” he scoffs, nose upturned, with the haughtiness of a brat - but then his expression shifts as he leans in close, his voice dips, thick with mischief and honeyed heat, like he’s savoring each word on his tongue before letting them drip. “Kento, baby,” he drawls, a grin curling at the corners of his mouth as his fingers begin working on unbuttoning Nanami’s shirt, “didn’t know you were such a pervert.”
Nanami glares - or tries to - but the blush blooming across his ears betrays him, and his voice cracks when he mutters, “That's not… perverted”
“Sure it's not,” Geto chuckles serenely from behind, settling on the bed, legs crossed, eyes bright with interest, like he's about to watch his favorite show.
“I’m going to kill both of you,” Nanami mutters - clearly lying, considering he’s not stopping Gojo from popping the last button open with an infuriating flick, with the kind of ease that only comes from deep familiarity - or brazen confidence.
“Oh no~” Gojo coos, parting the fabric, revealing the warm flush and tensed muscles beneath, “But then baby… who’s gonna ride you?” he smirks, sitting the curve of his surprisingly plump ass down on Nanami’s thighs.
He’s not sitting on Nanami’s lap and that’s probably a good thing. Still, the weight of his body is somewhat - unexpected. Sure, he’s likely not putting his whole weight down, but even so, Gojo - Satoru? - is lighter than expected. The man is pulling Nanami out of the shirt, so that he lies on the bed bare-chested and he can’t help the flush spreading down to his chest.
“Ach, Nanamin,” Satoru coos, “you’ve really been holding out on us, haven’t you?”
Nanami starts to protest, because he did no such thing, when Satoru leans down and presses feather-light kisses onto warm skin. His fingers are gently ghosting over Nanami’s sides, causing him to shiver. All the while, he is way too aware of Geto just behind him, looking down at the both of them.
Gojo’s fingers leave Nanami’s side and are brushing over his nipples and Nanami inhales sharply. He’s not - sure what he expected.
“You like that?”
It’s Suguru that asks, and Nanami can only nod. Satoru is gentle on his chest, just lightly rubbing over sensitive nipples. Nanami wishes that - the lips on his skin are nice, but he - he wants -
“If you want something, let Satoru know, yeah?”
Suguru has taken to brush through Nanami’s hair and his lips wobble.
“I - I… Gojo, I -”
“Shh,” Satoru replies against his chest, “I know. I know.”
Nanami can feel the smile and - surprisingly, it feels warm, not cocky or sly, like he’d usually describe Gojo’s grins. And before Nanami can get his bearings, Satoru licks the wide of his tongue over his left nipple and - yeah, Nanami whimpers. In accordance to that reaction, Satoru takes the other nipple between his fingers and starts twisting it, while closing his lips around the left nipple, sucking strongly on it.
Maybe it’s embarrassing, feeling so strongly about this, but - he can feel himself swelling in his pants. The soft weight on top of him doesn’t help, and neither do Suguru’s gentle ministrations.
Gojo goes all in, with tongue and teeth and Nanami can’t help but buck up, flushed red, embarrassed.
“It’s okay,” Suguru says softly, “I’ve gotten Satoru off to way less.”
“I didn’t -!”
Nanami doesn’t really want to know what these two get up to with each other, but that thought flies completely out of his head when the other man leans down and shoves his tongue into Nanami’s mouth.
“Hnnrff!” Nanami sputters, at the unfamiliar sensation. It's not his first kiss - well, his first kiss was like five minutes ago, but still, it's not his first kiss - and yet, he's never felt anything like this before. He's never dreamt of feeling anything like this before.
Gojo kisses him deep, like he's not kidding around for once in his life, rotating his hips in tandem with some mental rhythm Nanami hasn't been informed of - as he bobs in and out of kisses, messy and sugar sweet. Nanami can actually taste him this time - and he knows he struggles to keep up but it doesn't matter, because there's nothing Gojo expects him to do, or give back, clearly. He's simply taking what he wants - and oh, Nanami loves it.
He wants to - he wants to grab Gojo’s ass - two handfuls of his perfect round ass that Nanami can feel as it rubs against his crotch - and tell him to actually ride his dick instead of teasing him like this.
But all that actually comes out is a little more incoherent moans and Nanami's hands scrambling for purchase at Gojo's jeans of their own volition. It should be embarrassing - and maybe at a later point, it will be - but for now, Nanami can't process a single thought but Satoru, Satoru, Satoru.
Neglecting his obviously overwhelming effect on his blushing, flustered junior, Gojo coyly breaks off the makeout, winks once (an additional sparkle in his eye, Nanami could swear it), and begins to move down his jaw, peppering kisses on his neck.
It's when he bites his neck the first time, sucking and licking to soothe the fast-purpling bruise that Nanami well and truly loses it.
He isn't even aware of how much his hips are moving involuntarily, his dick straining hard against the zipper of his jeans and growing unbelievably more out of control with each thrust, and how painful it is to hump nothingness in vain because your senior is enjoying his time foreplaying, until he's finally taken pity on.
It's not even Gojo who does it.
“Satoru,” Geto purrs, sweet as a summer day. “Give the boy what he’s asked for.”
Gojo complies.
Gojo shifts downward, knees bracketing Nanami's, just enough to unbuckle and pull off Nanami’s belt - and then promptly tosses it over his shoulder without so much as breaking eye contact. Nanami swallows. Gojo’s grin widens, all wicked delight, eyes gleaming like he’s about to unwrap his favorite treat. Slowly, deliberately, he unzips Nanami’s pants, then shifts again, nudging Nanami’s knees apart with his own. He slides his hands up along Nanami’s calves, coaxing his legs to bend at the knees. One hand glides beneath a thigh, the other pressing gently against the inside of Nanami’s knee, folding it toward his chest with ease. The motion tilts Nanami’s hips upward, just enough for Gojo to slip his fingers beneath the waistband and start sliding the pants down - slow at first, savoring the way fabric drags over skin, then all at once in one sharp, fluid tug that earns a startled, indignant squeak. Gojo cackles as Nanami flushes and shoots him a look that promises murder - but before he can reach for the nearest pillow to make good on it, Geto drawls, “Now, now. No violence in the bedroom unless it’s negotiated first.”
Nanami groans - more in exasperation than anything else as Gojo tosses his pants to join the growing pile of discarded clothing. “You two are insufferable,” he mutters, which might have held more weight if his voice wasn’t an octave higher than usual or if he wasn’t in just his underwear, rock hard.
Gojo grins, shameless and glowing with it. “Insufferably hot, you mean,” he purrs, dragging his fingertip along the waistband of Nanami’s briefs with maddening slowness. Then, without warning, Gojo touches the heel of his palm down against the prominent bulge, pressing lightly, like he’s testing the firmness of fruit at the market. “Mmm” he hums thoughtfully “Yep. Ripe.”
Nanami chokes on air, hips jerking despite himself, and Geto finally moves, leaning down closer - one hand trailing down Nanami’s chest with featherlight ease and murmurs, “You’re being so good for us, Nanami”. The praise sends a shiver down Nanami’s spine, but Geto doesn’t stop there. His hand keeps moving, sliding lower, skimming over abs and down toward the waistband of Nanami’s briefs - where Gojo’s fingers still rest.
“You’re making him ache, Satoru,” Geto muses, voice dark with amusement as he curls his fingers under the band and snaps it lightly against Nanami’s hip. “You gonna keep teasing, or are you planning to do something about it?”
Gojo smiles, and he removes his hand, leaning down instead. Nanami kinda wants the fingers back, because now Gojo is nuzzling the bulge and Nanami wants to fucking die . He bucks his hips up in pure desperation because he needs, he needs so much -!
“Gojo, please, I -”
He hadn’t need say anything, because Gojo stops his nuzzling and - and - and wraps his mouth around Nanami’s still clothed, throbbing dick. Nanami groans loudly and he’s not even ashamed of it. He’s never felt anything like this. He can feel the heat of Gojo’s mouth around him, but he’s still missing something. He wants - he wants his dick deep inside Gojo’s throat, and he wants his dick deep inside of Gojo’s hole.
Oh fuck, he’s blushing - not only from embarrassment this time, but want and need.
“Do you like it?”
Suguru asks and Nanami just nods.
“More,” he whimpers and Suguru’s fingers are a welcome reprieve on his face.
“You heard him, Satoru, didn’t you? Stop playing around.”
Gojo makes some sort of affirmative noise but Nanami doesn’t pay much attention to that.
Suguru has gently pushed his fingers past Nanami’s lip with the clear, unspoken order to suck them. And who’s Nanami to refuse his favourite senior anything? So he sucks and licks as best as he is able - all too aware of the clothed boner poking his cheek.
Gojo is bobbing his head up and down faster now and Nanami really wishes someone removed his fucking underwear. He doesn’t want to come in his boxers, he wants to come down Gojo’s throat, like God intended!
He whimpers and whines around Suguru’s fingers.
“I’m,” he tries to say, “I’m close -”
Satoru removes his mouth and Nanami makes a long, needy whine. Satoru quickly pulls the boxers down and dives right back in, taking Nanami’s whole, bare length inside his mouth and the sensation of it alone is enough to take Nanami over the brink. He groans, low and loud, bucking his hips up and coming down his senior’s throat.
He can feel Gojo’s throat so tight around him, and he can feel the man swallowing. It shouldn’t turn him on like this, should it? But he already needs more. He already thinks about Gojo on his knees between Nanami’s spread legs, mouth open and begging for his dick. Oh no, he really wants that.
His whole body shaking, he’s trying to regain his breath and dispel these thoughts.
“Look,” Suguru orders and Nanami looks.
He sees Gojo leaning over Nanami’s still half-hard dick, mouth open, tongue out and - his own jizz all over it. The man, still clothed, pulls himself up quickly, pressing his mouth, his tongue, against Nanami’s lips.
“Fuck me,” he practically begs, humping the rest of his body with wanton desire, “I need you to fuck me so bad.”
Overcome by the sudden orgasm and Gojo's body on top of his, literal embodiment of the intense, heavy heat he feels inside, Nanami whispers, “I want to -” God, he barely recognises his own voice.
Gojo stops short, pausing in his (successful) attempts to make Nanami taste himself on Gojo’s lips, assuming that's the end of the sentence. He gets a look of fondness mixed into the cocktail of lust, horny and desire that's playing on his face. Clearly Nanami wants to fuck him, but he's just come - and the most virile of teenagers, virginal or not, would need at least a ten minute breather before he could get hard enough to fuck him. “Awww, Nanamin -” he begins, gleefully patronizing as he does, when Nanami interrupts him.
“I want to see Geto f-fuck you.”
Gojo's lips curl into a wicked smile, his eyes flickering upwards at Geto, who's still sitting pretty at the edge of the bed, one hand massaging Nanami’s sweaty shoulder, completely jizz-free.
Unfair.
Obedient as he (always) is, Gojo picks himself up with one hand on the bed, as nimble as he is light. It shouldn't be as easy for him in that position to grab Geto’s shirt with one hand and pull him into their first kiss of the night - but he is the strongest. And yet, something gives Nanami the impression that it wouldn't have mattered even if he wasn't, because he was Gojo Satoru, so Geto would've come anyway.
They kiss slower than Gojo kissed Nanami, and more artfully than Nanami kissed Gojo. Geto lets himself be dragged closer but puts his own hand in Gojo’s hair, and the other snakes down to his waist before Nanami has processed what's happening. The two are practically kissing on top of him, in a way, and as much as Nanami loves that angle, he wants to see more. In this moment or literally any other in his life, he hasn't been able to imagine anything even vaguely hotter.
With the eagerness of a kid in a candy shop, he scrambles out of the way, sitting half-upright with his knees pulled up so Gojo and Geto get space to themselves on the narrow bed.
It doesn't really matter much however, because as soon as Nanami is out of the way, Geto's arm around Gojo's waist tightens and he deftly manuevers Gojo into a kneeling upright position, while getting up to his feet himself. Gojo is tall enough that they don't break apart from the kiss even once, pushing and pulling each other back for more, with an ease and familiarity that Nanami totally isn't jealous of.
In this position, Geto has to bend down to kiss Gojo, and in doing so, both his hands come up to Gojo's face - two big, long-fingered, tanned hands cupping Gojo’s pale jawline, as if he's going to hold him there for a long, long time - or at least, for as ever long as he desires .
“Boy,” Geto lets out, breaking off a little after at least a whole minute has passed and Nanami is genuinely beginning to wonder if there exists some sort of world record for getting rock hard again so soon after orgasming and if he should stake a claim on it - because seeing the two like this? Wide-shouldered, perfectly-clothed Geto composedly and thoroughly kissing the living daylights out of a frazzle-haired (Nanami’s fault), still-cum-streaked Gojo and not letting him go? His imagination had been so right. It had to be the hottest thing he's ever seen. “I was beginning to think you weren't that into me after all, Kento.”
Nanami turns red. Geto’s tone betrays that he doesn't think it anymore. A single glance in Nanami’s direction had given him away. “P-please.” Is all he's capable of saying. Gojo might be the one being kissed, but Nanami feels like it's his brain that's been receiving the sparks. And he's really beginning to wonder why exactly he hasn't kissed Geto yet because what the actual fuck. “ Please .”
“Of course.”
Gojo sounds cheeky, self-aware and teasing when he complies. Geto just sounds benevolent .
In a single motion, Geto flips Gojo around, facing the wall now, and in a smooth glide, he lines up his crotch against Gojo’s ass.
“Good thing you came prepared, didn't you, Satoru?” He coos, pulling off Gojo’s t-shirt smoothly, and bending them both down, until Satoru’s face is almost against the bed (turned towards Nanami because the universe has been exceptionally kind to him tonight) - so that when Geto slowly gets back up, Gojo’s spine is arched into the most tantalizing curve, his ass up in the air, and his skin the prettiest flush of pink.
Gojo grins, acutely aware of the sight he makes like this. “Show me whether it's a good thing or not.”
Geto hums, the sound low and pleased in his throat. He lets his palm drag down the long, curved line of Gojo’s back, reverent almost - until he reaches the swell of his ass, where his fingers splay possessively. “Look at you,” he murmurs, and gives an appreciative squeeze. Gojo giggles in response, the look on his face still cocky but his cheeks bloom that soft, bashful pink.
Geto hooks his fingers into the band of Gojo’s pants and underwear, dragging them down as Gojo shuffles to help get them down his knees and off his legs, so he's now completely bare.
It’s honestly annoying how good Gojo looks naked.
Nanami doesn’t want to be this affected, but there’s no helping it - not when Gojo’s on his arms and knees like a pin-up brought to life, his bubble butt high, back arching into a perfect, elegant curve. His skin is smooth and flushed and glowing, like he’s been sculpted out of expensive fucking marble and then warmed up just for them. Even his dick - hard, flushed, leaking - manages to look obscenely pretty, as if it had any right.
Nanami swallows, jaw clenched like it might keep the rest of him from unraveling. “It’s genuinely upsetting how good you look” Gojo grins, eyes twinkling “It's genetics and moisturizer!” Gojo says brightly. “Want my routine?”
“It was meant as a complaint,” Nanami says, deadpan - though his gaze flicks downward again, traitorous. “A very serious, very sincere complaint.”
But Geto interrupts with a press of two fingers to Gojo’s hole, sinking in with a smooth, practiced ease, the stretch of which pulls a soft whimper out of Gojo’s throat “Routine can wait,” Geto says calmly - like he's not knuckles deep in his best friend “Let’s show Nanami what all that prep’s for.”
Gojo moans, arching his back and pressing back into Geto’s fingers. Suguru is moving his fingers in and out gently, albeit with practiced ease, in apparently just the right way to make Gojo pant and whimper. The man’s whole body shakes, and Nanami can’t tear his eyes away. Gojo’s dick throbs and leaks down onto the bedding and - Nanami doesn’t even care that it’s his room; his bed.
Geto grabs a fistful of white hair with the hand not currently occupied with the clanheir’s ass and pulls his body up.
“Do you like it?” He purrs, but Nanami can’t tell who he's addressing.
“Yes,” Gojo moans and Nanami nods. His eyes are drawn in by Gojo’s naked chest, heaving with heavy breaths and his - his pretty, pink nipples. Nanami swallows hard, thinking about how perfect they look for sucking. He’ll never be able to look at Gojo the same way - knowing what lies just under that school uniform, now.
“Don’t touch yourself, Nanami,” Suguru orders after casting a side-glance at him, “and Satoru, play with your nipples, will you?”
“Suguru,” he moans in a long tone, but does as he’s directed. His long, pale fingers reach up and Nanami notes that he’s a lot rougher on himself than he was just minutes prior with Nanami. Satoru presses and twirls and pulls and pinches, all the while trying to rock back into Geto’s fingers. Nanami can’t help but growl a little; he didn’t even know he had it in him. Gojo is a pain in his ass on every regular day, so why is he sitting here now, thinking that Gojo needs to be worshipped instead?
“Stop,” Geto then orders and Satoru complies immediately. Nanami’s dick gives an interesting throb at the thought that this isn’t the first time they’ve done this. How often have they fucked already? The walls aren’t that thick, maybe some of the - noises he’s heard in the past have been -
“Suguru,” Satoru whimpers, needy as a whore, rocking himself in more desperation now, clearly chasing his release.
“Gonna come? You gonna cry, little princess? Gonna come on my fingers, like the whore you are?”
“Yes!” Satoru shouts and he basically sits up all the way, supported by Suguru holding his jaw.
They move in tandem: Satoru rocking down more erratically, and Suguru pumping his fingers in and out faster. Suguru presses his mouth into the crook of Satoru’s neck, kissing, licking, biting down. Nanami fists his fingers in the blanket, completely swept away.
With one last hard thrust from both of them, Gojo shudders and cries as his pretty pink cock twitches, coming all over himself, staining his taut stomach in white. Gojo’s body shivers from the tension and Geto is moving his arm slowly, in a circular movement, making Gojo whimper cutely.
“More,” Satoru begs, “please. Want… want your cock, please -”
“Of course,” Geto coos, pulling his fingers out and wiping them distractedly, even as the other hand continues to fondle Gojo's ass, maintaining eye contact with Nanami as he does. There's the benevolent voice again - the voice that's as reassuring as it is exciting. It's alright. Geto - Suguru is going to give you what you want. It runs a shudder up Nanami's spine, how effective it is, even as Gojo relaxes with his words, finally ceasing to shiver - but still , Nanami notices, half-hard.
Looks like Nanami’s finally going to get what he's been angling for.
In a single move, Geto's flipped Gojo over and shifted them around, so he has Gojo under him on the mattress, and Nanami straight ahead when he looks up. If Gojo cranes his neck, he can see Nanami too - while Nanami can see everything from where he is; the perfect voyeur’s prototype.
Geto lifts himself up from Gojo for a beat, unbuttoning his jeans to a spellbound audience of two.
Then, he pushes them down to his thighs, pulls down his underwear, which is probably a relief as he's already extremely hard - and Nanami’s jaw drops.
Geto is big . And that's probably information he knew somewhere inside him (hah!) already, but it doesn't matter in the least, because nothing could've prepared him for the sight unfolding in front of his eyes.
For once, not even sparing a single glance in Nanami’s direction (which only makes it hotter, because oh, the way he looks at Gojo like he's the entire world, oh, the care and attentiveness ) he lines himself up against Gojo again, this time without any irritating layers between them and with Gojo already open from the finger-fucking - this time, he slips right in.
Gojo throws his head back when Geto enters him, eyes screwed shut and breath hitched mid-inhale - and Nanami doesn't suspect theatrics for an instant, because prep or no prep, strongest or no strongest, a dick that size isn't fucking anyone easy.
But Geto keeps going, slowly and slowly until he bottoms out, with Nanami watching the seasons of pain and pleasure even out on Gojo's face with every micro-inch, his stunning face like a tapestry Nanami couldn't take his eyes off of.
For a second, no, five seconds, Geto doesn't move, and Gojo’s muscles finally relax a little, jaw unclenching as his features settle on pleasure as the emergent winner of the battle - and Nanami’s eyes flicker upwards - to where their bodies unite, where Geto has folded Gojo in half and impaled him for good measure - and then further up, to where Geto’s eyes have taken on a new quality he hasn't previously found in them yet.
Need.
Out of control. Geto looks like he's itching, fighting, praying to be released, to be let out of control.
Almost, and it's only care for Gojo that's the single loom thread holding him fastened.
And then, ten seconds have passed, and the air in the room starts to find its purpose again. Gojo exhales, lets out in a breathy, beautiful sigh the same breath he'd stopped short in the middle of - and Nanami swallows down on nothing.
Geto leans down to plant a single airy kiss to Gojo’s lips, and begins to move.
Nanami’s entire body feels taut, like he’s seconds from snapping. “Come closer,” Geto beckons, “You shouldn’t miss the best part.”
Nanami hesitates for a second but then does as he's told. He moves a bit closer, but close enough to feel the heat coming off their tangled bodies, close enough to see Gojo’s chest heaving, to hear the slick, obscene sounds of Geto’s slow, deep thrusts. Gojo’s cock bobs helplessly between them, flushed and drooling, just begging for attention.
Nanami’s mouth goes dry. “God,” Nanami mutters under his breath, eyes dragging down Gojo’s body like he’s trying to memorize every inch. “You’re ....”
“Say it,” Gojo pants, still breathless but smug under the wreckage. “Go on, Kento baby. Call me pretty~”
“You’re obscene,” Nanami says flatly, but his voice is tight, and he doesn't look away.
Geto laughs, slow and delighted. “He means you’re perfect.”
Gojo beams at him through half-lidded eyes. “Obviously.”
And then Geto rolls his hips just right, deep and slow, and Gojo’s head tips back with a choked gasp, throat arched beautifully, hands scrabbling at the sheets.
“Fuck, Suguru-”
Nanami groans, his cock already hard again just from watching. “You two are .....unfair.”
“Obviously” Gojo giggles, breath hitching when Geto thrusts particularly deep, just to be a menace and looks up at Nanami “Come here. Participate” Geto calls out once more, pausing.
“I am participating,” Nanami says stiffly. “I’m... watching.”
Gojo snorts, voice still strained as he cranes his neck slightly to look at Nanami. “You’re lurking. Like a pervy ghost. If you’re gonna ogle me like I’m art, at least have the decency to touch.”
“Don’t bully him,” Geto says mildly, though he’s grinning too, “He’s shy.”
“I’m not shy,” Nanami says instantly, almost offended.
“You’re so shy,” Gojo teases, arching up a little to rest on his elbows, smug despite the tremble in his thighs. “It’s okay, Kento baby. We’ll guide you through it"
Gojo says that, but he’s unable to elaborate, as Geto angles his dick differently, robbing Satoru of any clear breath. Nanami’s breath hitches as he watches Gojo arch his back, lifting it up from the mattress. His body curves so prettily; looking like he was simply made to take cock.
“Kento,” Suguru purrs and Nanami’s eyes snap to him. Looking at just his face, one would not be able to tell that he’s ball’s deep into the brattiest brat to ever brat. Suguru reaches out one hand, cupping Nanami’s jaw and pulling him close, locking their lips together. Nanami can feel himself flush beet-red as Suguru licks inside his mouth, as Gojo moans beneath from a particular hard thrust inside of him.
“You’re so hard for me,” Suguru purrs yet again against Nanami’s red-kissed lips; wrapping his hand around Nanami’s length and tugging . Nanami gasps from the unexpectedness of it and he presses his head against Suguru’s shoulder. He should’ve pursued this sooner. He could’ve had Suguru praise him so much sooner; could’ve had Gojo moan and pant underneath him so much sooner.
Suguru wraps his arm around Nanami’s middle and pulls him flush against him; back to the man’s chest and - oh, the sight. The sight of one of the strongest sorcerers of their age, laying flat on his back, nipples pink and perk and taut, heaving and moaning like a common slut, laid out right before him like a gift.
Behind him, he can feel Suguru continuously pound into the man below them, but Suguru’s hand is sprawled over his stomach possessively, not Satoru’s. What does his dick feel like inside , he wonders.
“Go on,” Suguru says, “rub your dicks together. Jerk yourselves off. You know Satoru loves it. Kento, you can come whenever you like, I’ll allow it. Satoru - only on my permission, do you hear?”
Nanami shivers. He hadn’t been aware orgasm was something to be allowed. Satoru groans in frustration, but doesn’t protest. Just how often have they done this? Nanami doesn’t want them to do it ever again without him.
With determination, he wraps his hand around his dick and Satoru’s, pressed together. Both throb and Nanami clenches his jaw.
“Don’t,” he bites out between clenched teeth, “don’t touch yourself.”
His eyes fall on the pretty, pink nipples again. He leans forward, carefully, gripping their dicks harder, and he feels Suguru’s hand push back a little - not to stop him, but just to apply pressure. Fuck, it feels good.
“Good boy,” Suguru praises, as Nanami closes his mouth around Satoru’s nipple.
Gojo's back tries to arch again, but there's Nanami on top of him now, nearly pinning him down, so it just makes Gojo lift up to press flat against Nanami - and it makes both of them let out twin grunts of pleasure, before Nanami sees the golden opportunity to catch him in another kiss and promptly takes it.
Geto doesn't see it as much as hear it, wet, frantic noises of mouths kissing into each other again and again, and just smiles to himself. The kissing sounds abruptly slow down every once in a while when Geto thrusts harder and makes Gojo's knees involuntarily hitch up, making Nanami lean in lower to kiss his Satoru whose head would've inevitably fallen back in ecstasy (Geto has seen it enough times to commit it to memory, even if he hadn't already been in love with Gojo enough to have committed it to memory the first time it happened). The leaning makes Nanami's ass just out towards him, of course, giving him an exquisite view - as the kissing noises resume with force.
Eventually, Nanami returns to Gojo's nipples, as Geto begins to pick up pace and Gojo’s suddenly too busy groaning with pleasure at every thrust to kiss back - and this time, he wants to try some of what he'd seen Gojo do to himself.
Using only his teeth, he tries to pinch, swirl, everything he can - and is rewarded with even more attempts at bucking by Gojo. It's phenomenal to see, yes, but to feel it happening under him while Geto stays plastered to his back from behind?
It's an extraterrestrial experience.
“Harder.” Gojo whimpers - and it could've been directed at either of them.
Thankfully, both comply.
“A b-bumpy seat for Kento, won't it be?” Geto teases, showing the first signs of coming close to his peak. Anyone else would've missed it, the first hitch in his breath, the gravel in his usually sweet voice.
“I'm holding on.” Nanami grits out - a weak (and rare) attempt at humor that Gojo, for one, would've been extremely proud of the punny nature of, as he's holding onto Gojo’s and his dicks with both hands, and alternating between Gojo's nipples with his teeth.
The sentence, as well as Geto’s speeding up, also reminds Nanami of the job at hand that he'd be completely ignoring in favor of the oversensitive dark pink of Gojo’s nipples.
So, he begins to jerk them off harder - and he'd clearly overestimated his own capacity because he's barely been at it for twenty seconds that he can feel his orgasm suspiciously quickly build up in the low of his belly.
Geto, somehow, can tell and presses his lips to the nape of Nanami's neck to encourage him, slowly kissing his way to the side.
Gojo, by this time, is rendered so incapable of coherence, that even the groans he's making have stopped making temporal sense in relation to the jerking off and the fucking. In one word, he's overstimulated. And yet, Nanami remembers, he can't come until Geto asks, right?
What must that be like? He can't wait to find out. How hot would so much submissiveness in the strongest sorcerer of their era be?
And clearly, today, he's in some god's special favor line-up and the god isn't even letting him depart - because seconds after, all things begin to crescendo, and Nanami crescendos with it.
All at once, Geto's hips stutter in their (much, much faster) rhythm, and he bites down into the soft skin of Nanami’s neck from behind - all at once, Nanami hears a soft “ Now!” and underneath him, the shivering, whimpering mess of a Gojo Satoru finally freezes , painting Nanami's hands white as he cries out much, much louder than Geto's whispering command had been - and all at once, Nanami feels a second wave of everythingness envelope him, his dick now lubed up with Gojo's cum, his neck marked by Geto at the peak of his orgasm, and both their voices contrasting with the nothingness he hears in his ears, as his heart beats a little too loud, a little too fast, a little too much.
Sandwiched perfectly between a panting, heaving Geto now pressed against his back, and an absolutely worn-out Gojo plastered to his front - Nanami comes like he's never come before.
And then he blacks out.
When Nanami comes back to himself, it’s with the vague realization that he has no idea if the Gojo clan heir that's currently squished against his front is breathing properly.
Then there’s a very loud, satisfied sigh against his chest -ah ..... That answers that.
“…I think I died,” Nanami says hoarsely, face nuzzled into the crook of Gojo’s pale, annoyingly flawless neck.
“You blacked out for like… twenty seconds,” Geto says from somewhere behind him, voice smug and entirely too proud . “Very dramatic of you. Satoru loved it.”
“Mm,” Gojo mumbles, sounding positively wrecked, face mashed against Nanami’s collarbone "That was hot. We should commemorate it. Group photo?”
“ No ,” Nanami huffs instantly, appalled.
Geto hums, nosing lazily into the nape of Nanami's neck. “Don't you want a little keepsake? You were so good. And so desperate”
“Desperate is a strong word.” Nanami grumbles.
“You chewed Satoru’s nipples like they owed you money,” Geto chuckles, soft.
Gojo makes a happy little noise. "I liked it when you chewed me.”
Nanami closes his eyes. “Please don’t say things like that when I’m trying to regain brain function.”
“But it was hot,” Gojo insists, purring, rubbing his cheek against Nanami’s shoulder like a very needy cat. “You were like. Feral. It was sexy. I think you growled at me.”
Nanami groans. He’s never going to live this down. Ever. Not that he regrets it, but the amount of smugness radiating off these two is going to be the death of him. “I need water,” he mutters eventually.
“I need a cigarette,” Gojo sighs dramatically, flopping his arms on the sheet. “And maybe a Gatorade. And also Kento to feed me grapes while Suguru fans me with a palm frond.”
“Palm fronds are out of season,” Geto says without missing a beat, used to dealing with Gojo’s bratty ass, “but I could get you a cold towel and a juice box.”
Gojo gasps, scandalized. “A juice box? I just got dicked down into enlightenment and you’re offering me apple juice ?”
“Grape,” Geto corrects mildly, pulling back to run his fingers soothingly down Nanami’s spine. “You like grape.”
Gojo pauses. “...Okay, that’s true. Grape’s elite.”
Nanami groans again, trying to get up. “I’m going to shower.”
“Noooo,” Gojo whines, holding onto Nanami’s back. “Five more minutes. We’re bonding .”
“We’re sticky,” Nanami replies flatly with a sigh.
“Sticky with love !” Gojo cries
“Sticky with semen, " Geto corrects helpfully, hand drawing lazy patterns on Nanami’s lower back.
“Romantic” Nanami deadpans.
“Right?” Gojo sighs dreamily. “It’s giving connection . It’s giving spiritual exchange . It’s giving-”
“It’s giving me a yeast infection,” Nanami cuts in, trying to peel himself away with a grimace.
Gojo clings tighter, grinning like the menace he is. “Admit it. You love us.”
There’s a beat. “…I plead the fifth.”
“That’s an admission of guilt,” Geto says smugly, flopping back down on them, joining the pile.
Nanami grunts, but Gojo just accepts the warm weight and hums dreamily, eyes fluttering shut. “Mmm. We should nap. And then go again.”
Nanami does not dignify that with a response. But he doesn’t protest either.
Unsurprisingly, it’s Gojo that falls asleep first. Nanami’s always thought he’d be the type to snore, but - he’s not. He’s just breathing softly, bordering on almost cute, which is incredibly offensive.
“Yeah, I thought he’d snore like a truck, too,” Geto laughs. “Sadly, everything but his personality is akin to perfection.”
“How do you even handle him?”
“Regrettably, I am in love,” Suguru sighs, brushing his fingers through white hair. He smiles so fondly, it’s almost blinding. “Don’t tell him I said that though. He’s full enough of himself as is already.”
Nanami snorts. “Your secret’s safe with me,” he promises and gets a soft smile as a reward.
“Okay, come on, then,” Suguru says, “we can wash ourselves down at least. Satoru’s such princess, he’ll make me do it.”
He gets up first and gently maneuvers Satoru out of the way, so that Nanami can climb out of bed. Left behind, Gojo sighs softly, wrapping his arms around the closest piece of bedding. Fuck him, he looks like an angel.The soft white hair, the long, white lashes casting the gentlest shadow on his face… Nanami should punch him in the face. It’s not fair for a brat to be this ethereal.
Suguru takes his hand and pulls him away into the adjacent bathroom. The sound of the shower might wake Satoru up, so they make do with washcloths. It’s better than nothing, Nanami supposes.
They wash themselves down in relative silence. He still can’t believe he fucking fainted while sandwiched between two of the most beautiful people he’s ever seen. That’s a story he’ll take into the grave with him, for sure. Unfortunately, Gojo was there to see it and if all the stars hate him, Gojo will tell people. Ieiri, probably. Hopefully not Haibara. Oh, he will definitely tell Haibara.
“Can I ask,” he starts, unsure of himself, “how you two started? Don’t tell me Gojo confessed.”
Suguru laughs. “God no. Satoru wouldn’t understand an emotion if it hit him straight in the face. Honestly? It kind of just happened. It was after a mission, and we were both exhausted because Satoru only sleeps if he gets knocked out and I had to cram that homework and - I just kissed him, Kento. I just grabbed his ugly face and kissed him straight on the mouth.”
It sounds hardly romantic. But it fits them both, he supposes. It’s difficult to imagine either of them had a candlelight dinner, exchanging roses or whatnot.
“Anyway, Kento, are you enjoying yourself? If you want to stop here, we can. I’ll press Satoru into the mattress until he stops complaining. Or until he stops moving, whatever happens first.”
Nanami looks at Geto, and he can feel the blush spread on his cheeks again.
“No,” he says, determined, “I want to - how - how does Gojo… feel ?”
Gods, this is very embarrassing. Suguru cups Nanami’s face and kisses him.
“He feels perfect, Kento. Everything about Satoru is perfect. Fuck him yourself, and you’ll understand. Fuck, just thinking about it gets me going again.”
“Does he… ever fuck you?”
“No,” Suguru snorts, “Satoru’s a pillow princess. Why? Do you want to fuck me?”
Nanami stares at him with big eyes. Does he? A part of him does. Another part is unsure of if he can.
Nanami takes too long thinking about it, and Geto breaks his reverie with a laugh. It's one of those (not yet rare) musical ones that wins hearts everywhere he goes - and Nanami’s feels bowled over.
“Let it be.” Geto smiles then, ruffling Nanami’s hair exactly in the way Nanami typically dislikes.
Usually, Gojo took the burden of being-annoying all on his own shoulders - but sometimes, his noble best friend turned lover shouldered it with him. What's worse is Geto’s gesture is clearly indicative of their age gap, in its fond casualness, and Nanami feels himself flush a little - even though it made no sense for it to be so easy . Geto continues, suggestive mischief dropping from his words. “Grow up first, and then we'll talk.”
“We're five months apart!” Nanami protests, but Geto’s eyes sparkle like he'd been waiting for him to say that.
“That's not the kind of growing up I meant.”
The flush deepens. Nanami is fully aware of how he's not yet as tall as he's supposed to be - and he's every bit as lanky as he's not . Sure, he's strong - but this is Geto Suguru in front of him, master of physical combat even against Gojo, built like a wall with those wide shoulders, hard muscles and tall, tall legs. It's unfair that he should be made to feel small - but also only appropriate! - which makes his response to it a very brilliant choice.
Until it's not.
In retaliation to the hair-ruffling, Nanami tries to playfully shove Geto - but he's too absentminded in doing it, and Geto too quick, without even really meaning to.
So, in the end, it's reflexes really, when he ends up losing his balance as his shove misses its target and his distracted foot slips - reflexes as quick as a fox and strong as Geto Suguru, when two arms break his fall, and Nanami is suddenly suspended half-the-way from the ground in Geto’s arms, ballroom-dipping style.
Nanami's jaw drops, and he suddenly feels way more naked - no, way more shy.
As he keeps saying, it really shouldn't be that easy for him to get flustered so much right after having orgasmed twice in front of this very man - but there's the cinch, isn't it? Geto hasn't been directly responsible for it yet, has he?
The same thought seems to strike the upperclassman at the same exact time, because instead of straightening Nanami back to his feet, he simply pauses for a moment carrying Nanami's entire weight with arms wrapped around his waist.
And then, he licks his lips.
“Kento?”
Nanami gulps. Any number of odes to Geto’s beauty would be too less. And yet his mind jumps to try, each fucking time they're less than ten feet apart. Yes, he's aware that happens a lot - but well, have you seen him? Nanami can see Geto’s adam's apple bob in his throat, he can see the sheen of sweat still on his forehead, and he can see the bowstrung, pretty lips Gojo had been devouring with such familiar intimacy. Hell, he can smell him from here - and aside from smelling like Gojo and Nanami and, well, sex, Geto also smells so fucking like himself - this heady, manly musk mixed with the sweet, delicious, must-be-close-to-him fruitiness of shampoo and conditioner and god knows what else he puts in that hair.
“Kento?” Geto repeats, softer, like he cares enough not to break Nanami’s fragile dissection of all things pretty and handsome and Geto, and Nanami wants to whimper.
“Yes?” He says instead, weakly.
“Do you want me to fuck you?”
And there's only one answer. “ God , yes.”
Turns out shower sex is only hard if the shower is running - and the one fucking you isn't as strong as Geto fucking Suguru. They're already naked, and both half-hard through the conversation (Nanami thinks he's leaking already but that's probably at the sight of Geto’s dick and not the conversation itself, to be fair) - and it doesn't take long for the cleaning-session to turn very, very filthy.
In fact, the next thing Nanami is able to fully process, in the middle of getting fucked for the first time in his entire life by Geto’s godly dick while picked up in his beautiful, tanned arms and back propped up against the tiled shower wall like they're in a porno of some kind and Nanami is a 100 pound chick, while he moans and cries and begs for more and less and please all at once - is the bathroom door sliding open.
Gojo stands there, pouting.
“You didn't even wait for me.”
Gojo stands there in the doorway, gloriously naked except for the single blanket wrapped around his shoulders like a dramatic cape, dick out. His hair's a fluffy disaster, his expression is pure betrayal. “I woke up sticky and alone! I thought we were doing this together?” he says, voice pitched with the wounded dignity of a Regency-era heroine left behind at the ball.
Nanami, currently halfway up the wall with Geto buried in him to the hilt, does not have the bandwidth to process anything beyond the fact that Gojo’s looking. His blue eyes flick down, then back up, and then -oh, no- he grins.
“Wow,” Gojo whistles. “Look at my baby boy getting wrecked. I’m so proud" he grins, betrayal forgotten "But you can't come yet!”
“I’m literally not even close to-” Nanami starts to protest, voice ragged.
“Yeah, he already came,” Geto mutters into his neck “Twice.”
Gojo makes a delighted squeal and the blanket is dropped in an instant. He’s on them in two seconds flat, long legs stepping over puddles on the tile like an overexcited giraffe.
He kisses Geto on the shoulder, then leans around to kiss Nanami’s cheek. “Hi, babe, feels good?”
“No” Nanami groans, voice embarrassingly wrecked.
“You say that,” Gojo says, wrapping his arms around both of them from the side, “but your prostate’s telling a different story~"
“I will throw you out of this bathroom”
“You’d have to walk first.” Gojo leers. “And seeing as Suguru’s got you pinned like a butterfly in a museum-”
“Fuck me harder,” Nanami says desperately, hoping to shut him up. It works. For about three seconds. Because Gojo moans, like he’s the one getting railed. “Oh my god, he begged, Suguru, he begged-”
"Hmmm" Geto hums, thrusting in again. This one hits something devastating, Nanami gasps, goes tight, back arching hard.
“You’re leaking like a faucet,” Gojo giggles “Suguru, feel his dick. It’s crying......oh my god .... no seriously, he’s crying.” Gojo’s voice goes full concerned but still horny. “Kento, baby, are you crying?”
Nanami is absolutely crying.
But only because Geto adjusts his angle and the new angle has Nanami clawing the tiles.
“God,” Gojo breathes, dropping to his knees like a pilgrim before a shrine. “Kento, you’re so hot like this. Look at you. All flushed and ruined and stuffed. You gonna come like that?”
“No - mmnh - please don’t talk-” Nanami gasps, and immediately hates how whiney he sounds.
Geto just chuckles and keeps fucking into him, slow but deep. “He’s so polite,” he tells Gojo fondly. “Even when he’s cock-drunk"
“Can I help?” Gojo asks, licking his lips. “Can I suck him?”
“Yes,” Geto says without missing a beat. He pulls out of Nanami with a wet sound. Nanami makes a tiny noise, somewhere between a sob and a protest, but Geto just manhandles him gently - lifting him off the wall, turning him with ease. Nanami ends up facing Gojo, thighs trembling, flushed and dazed.
And then Geto slides back in - slow but relentless - holding Nanami steady with the grip on his hips.
“N-no, wa-wait, I-”
But Geto doesn't wait and neither does Gojo, who is already mouthing at his cock, wet and needy and far too good at it. Nanami shouts - actually shouts - his knees almost buckling as Geto holds him steady, thrusts smooth and ruthless. The combination is obscene. He’s never been this full, this overstimulated, this used. Desperate for something to hold onto, Nanami's hand flies to Gojo’s hair, fingers tangling tight in the soft, unruly mess. He grips hard - maybe too hard - but Gojo just groans like it spurs him on, lips working faster, tongue wicked.
There are two mouths on him - one pressing soft kisses to his shoulder and the other sucking his soul out - and Nanami is unraveling, loud and helpless, grinding down, arching up, gone.
Nanami can’t speak. Can’t think as Gojo sucks him like he’s trying to win a contest and Geto fucks him like he already has. Every nerve is on fire. Every breath is a moan. “Shhh, you’re doing so good” Geto coos into his ear, thrusting in with perfect precision, rubbing all the perfect spots.
Gojo moans in agreement, mouth full, hands gripping Nanami’s trembling thighs like he’s anchoring them all to reality. His cheeks are flushed, eyes big and blue, glittering with mischief and heat as he bobs (this how we use bob silly bb) his head, purposefully letting the drool trail down his chin messily.
Nanami is beyond gone. Past words, past dignity, past anything but need. His whole body is tight, taut like a wire about to snap. Every thrust from Geto pushes him deeper into Gojo’s mouth, and Gojo takes it, sinking down until his nose brushes gold-blonde curls
“Hng - fuck” Nanami gasps, voice strangled, high with pleasure and panic. “I - too much, it’s too much-”
“No,” Geto says, strained but soft, the rhythm never faltering. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect. Just let go. We’ve got you.”
And Nanami lets go. He claws at the tiles like a monkey, finding no reprieve as he shoots his load deep down into Gojo’s throat who gulps it all down so eagerly. Suguru behind him splutters and with a muffled cry, fills Nanami up to the brim. Nanami’s body shakes and he is so over-stimulated; Suguru’s twitching dick still inside his stretched hole and Gojo’s pink lips wrapped tightly around his own weeping member. These two are going to kill him. They already did. Fucked him full, sucked him dry, and left him to fucking die. If it weren’t for Suguru’s strong arms holding him up, he would’ve collapsed to the floor.
Gojo removes himself with a strong-sounding pop , like the asshole he was born to be; and smirls up at Nanami.
“Tasty~” he purrs and Nanami hates the twitch his dick gives at that.
“Fuck off,” Nanami tries to say with as much disdain in his voice as possible, so naturally, it comes out like a breathy moan.
“No,” Gojo grins, haughty, and he sits there, still right next to Nanami’s softening dick. “Fuck me .”
Nanami wants to grab his stupid, perfect hair and slam his head against the shower tiles. It’s a fleeting desire, for now, because he’s sure it’ll come back again in a different form, on another day. Gojo has that effect on him and presumably, on everybody else, too.
Suguru pulls out, and Nanami whimpers at the sudden feeling of emptiness. He liked being full. He liked being filled. Now, having lost it, he can understand why Gojo’s so needy for it. Lost in light thought, and still trying to catch his breath, he barely notices Gojo shuffling away from his front, to his back. Suguru is rubbing soft circles on his back and stomach and it helps calm his racing heart down. It helps with the sensation of loss, too, even though that’s ridiculous. It hits him completely unprepared and he isn’t above admitting he screamed a little when he felt a greedy tongue lapping at his leaking hole.
“G-Gojo,” he moans, raising himself on his tippy-toes, while arching his back in a way that presses his ass further into Satoru’s space. Instinctively, his arms reach up to find some semblance of a hold, and he wraps his hands around the curtain rod, holding fast. It’s too much. He just came. He can’t do it again. And yet, his dick seems to differ in opinion.
“I told you, he’s born for this,” Suguru says, having appeared next to him somehow. Nanami isn’t clear on positioning anymore and frankly, he couldn’t give less of a shit.
“S-senpai,” he whines and Suguru coos. Nanami hates how he flushes. Suguru leans forward and kisses him, softly and sweet, with his mouth closed. He could stay like this. Gojo’s tongue feels good inside his hole, and Suguru’s mouth on his feels perfect. But all too soon, he feels Gojo stand up again and drape himself over Nanami’s sweaty back. The washing down had done absolutely nothing .
“Aren’t I senpai too?”
“You’re a menace.”
Satoru pouts on Nanami’s back and it’s so goddamn endearing Nanami wants to kick the other man. Haibara’s talked about something called cuteness aggression before, and Nanami seriously wonders if that’s what he has for fucking Gojo Satoru.
“How do you feel?”
Suguru asks that while gently caressing Nanami’s stomach. He takes brief stock of himself. He’s less exhausted than he thought he’d be, and he’s slowly regaining composure.
“Good,” he confirms and he’s rewarded with a soft smile. Gods, people would go to war for smiles like that.
“Great,” Satoru exclaims while pressing closer against Nanami’s back. “Because you know, Nanamin,” his voice turns dark and it sends a shiver straight to Nanami’s dick, “I’m so fucking empty .”
I want him to ride me.
He’d forgotten about that. With all that’s happened since he’s made that statement, it had completely slipped his mind. He turns his head to try and look at Gojo who stares at him intensely, with dark eyes. How many times has he come today? Four? Five? He can’t remember. Does it matter?
He can have Gojo moan and beg for him again. He can have the strongest sorcerer he’ll ever know be at his mercy, begging for him . He wants it. He wants it.
“ Yes ,” he breathes, in agreement. “I hope your ass is ready.”
“Oh, Nanamin, I was born ready.”
It’s a short walk, but Nanami has no clue how they all made it here without any accidents. Gojo pushes him a little once they reach the bed, and Nanami goes willingly, bouncing a little on the mattress, looking up at Gojo. His white hair shines around his head like a halo, and his too-blue eyes glow with desire.
Gojo observes him for just a moment, before he comes down, climbing over Nanami’s body. He presses hot, open-mouthed kisses on Nanami’s skin, trailing his way upwards.
“Fuck, Nanamin, I’ve been waiting for this,” he pants, “been wanting your dick in me for so long.”
“Oh, really?” He asks, challenging, but his eyes wander to Suguru who’s made himself comfortable close by. He’s smiling, and Nanami relaxes. All’s good, then. Good. That’s good. He looks back at Gojo who’s started sucking at Nanami’s neck. His whole bodyweight presses down on him and it feels good. Comforting, even. “Can you even take all of me?”
That makes Gojo stop and look up, all pouty. His face is too cute, Nanami needs to see it violated. Fuck.
“Are you insulting me? I’m a pro .”
Nanami grabs his hips and kneads the flesh there a little. “I’m gonna ruin you.”
“Oha?” Gojo grins and he starts grinding his body against Nanami’s. He can feel the drag of Satoru’s hard dick against his belly, smearing over him. Nanami can’t wait to make the brat come on just his dick.
Gojo sits up a little and turns halfway around. He lifts himself up slightly and reaches for Nanami’s weeping dick, angling them both right. “I hope you can deliver, big boy~”
He sinks down, slowly, and they both moan. Nanami is still holding his hips, and his grip is tightening. Gojo feels so - so good . Suguru had been right, Satoru was made for this. And it’s just the tip so far. Nanami can feel Gojo’s flesh pulse around him, drawing him in, tugging him closer, holding him tight.
“Fuck,” he breathes, “you’re perfect.”
“Ha,” Gojo pants, trying to scoff, “I do try. Ah, Nanami… feel so, so good.”
Nanami breathes deep and evenly, holding onto composure. He glances over at Suguru quickly just to take a sharp breath, seeing the man stroke himself lazily. His dick gives an interested twitch and Suguru notices him, and he fucking winks . It makes Nanami’s heart skip a beat and he hates how easy he is.
“Ah… Ah, Nanamin, look at me… aren’t I pretty enough to look at?”
Nanami whips his head back around. While he might be more enarmoured with Suguru, Satoru is a sight to behold. Nanami drags his eyes down from Gojo’s flushed face, over his shoulders, his chest, his stomach, his neglected dick and down between his legs where he can see himself sinking into the man above him inch by inch. He can see himself throb at the sight and Satoru moans wantonly at the feeling.
“Such a whore,” Nanami says and fuck, it doesn’t even sound like himself.
“Please,” Gojo whines, moving his hips, desperate. “Please, let me touch myself.”
“No,” Nanami says quickly, before Suguru even can. “It’s my cock or nothing.”
Crying, Gojo sinks down lower, taking in more of Nanami. He bites his lip because fuck, it feels so good. Inside of Satoru is the perfect space, and he can’t imagine being somewhere else. Gojo bottoms out and his body is pulled taut, just like Nanami’s. Nanami isn’t going to last long.
“So perfect,” Suguru says then and he makes them both mewl. Satoru starts moving his hips, slow at first, but quickly gaining speed. Nanami’s fingers press into the soft flesh of the boy’s hips, hoping to leave marks, however temporary.
“Nanami,” Satoru pants, “so good, I’m so… I’m so full, Nanami, fuck, please please, Nanamin -”
Nanami growls and he grabs Satoru’s wrist to pull him down, smashing their mouths together. Satoru whines and he pants open-mouthed into the kiss, still trying to fuck himself as best as he can.
“I’m gonna come,” Nanami pants against kissed lips and Satoru licks his face, desperate.
“Yes, yes, yes, please, please, inside, Nanamin, I need it inside, please -”
And Nanami does. He thrusts up into Gojo as much as he can and he feels his orgasm rolling over him, just as he feels Satoru squeeze so tight around him; spilling himself between their two bodies. It feels good. It feels fucking perfect .
This time, thankfully, Nanami doesn't faint.
But he can realise just as well why he had the previous time because his heart is beating so fast and hard against his ribs that there have to be some medical consequences of it.
Is it really his fault though? Imagine your first kiss. Rolled into one with the first time you have sex. Rolled into like…three or four more times you have sex (he thinks, he may have to ask Geto the terminology later, because he's sure Gojo would only cackle in his face if he went to him). And then, mind you, roll that into the first time you see the hottest and strongest men you (or the world) has ever seen naked. And kissing. And fucking. And naked. And then imagine they fuck, suck, lick, kiss and bite you in every way you've ever slash never thought of.
All in one night.
Nanami thinks he's lucky to not have had a stroke. Probably have Yaga’s rigorous workout sessions to thank for that. A lesser man would have crumbled.
While Nanami drifts into his thoughts, Gojo has finally lifted himself off of Nanami's dick - oh , the look on his face when he does - and gotten off the bed.
He takes one weak-kneed, wincing step - and then doesn't have to take any more, because Geto stands up smoothly and whisks him into his arms bridal style.
Nanami notices, from the corner of his eye, Gojo’s head thrown back, giggling as Geto carries him into the bathroom - and sighs to himself. Sure, getting fucked that good by two dicks would have a toll on anyone, but Gojo's toll was purely self-inflicted and probably a dramatic attempt at scoring himself some Geto attention. Geto doesn't seem the type to be void of this information either, but he clearly doesn't care, engaging Gojo in his little whims as he's always done, and making a point to flex his superior strength as they go. They look like they're out of a fireman’s calendar as they go - only gayer, hotter, and more life-saving. Smooth skin glowing with sweat, legs for miles, smiles as brilliant as the sun.
A dream .
It still feels like a dream.
*
Gojo and Geto walk back into Nanami lying flat on his back, face towards the ceiling and an arm covering his eyes.
Unsuspecting, Gojo launches himself on Nanami first, now finally clean and dressed in boxer shorts, his hair still wet from the shower they had just taken. Weirdly, Nanami doesn't physically shove him away, and instantly, the two seniors know something is wrong.
“Kento?” Geto asks softly, getting up on the bed too so that he's on the opposite side of Nanami as Gojo. He half-lies down, but keeps himself propped up on an elbow - trying to make himself unintruding while also concerned.
“Mhm.”
“Look at us,” Gojo says, mirroring Geto in the way that he's lying down. They both have to be on their sides so that the three of them can fit on the single bed, but it really doesn't matter right now because it doesn't seem like Nanami's alright.
Nanami doesn't obey, not exactly, but he does move his arm from covering his face so now he's just staring at the ceiling.
From Geto and Gojo’s elevated positions, they can see the faintest hints of tears in his eyes.
The mood shifts at once.
“Oh.” Geto is the first to say, while Gojo simply stares dumbly at the first time they've seen their junior be so vulnerable. “I'm sorry, Nanami, if any of it was too much for you, or you didn't want to do it, we didn't think -”
As he's speaking, Geto starts physically putting space between them as well, his voice seeped in concern, but Nanami suddenly moves from his statuesque reverie and grabs Geto’s wrist.
“Don't.” He says, blinking away tears. Don't get up. Don't call me Nanami again. Don't - don't leave me.
“Alright.” Geto pauses. A giant part of him (and Gojo too) is relieved that Nanami doesn't want them to go. The mere thought that they'd overstepped or hurt their junior in some way was scarring. But he's still unsure what's going on.
“Nanamin,” Gojo takes over now, and well, that's better . Doesn't make Nanami’s heart feel like it hurts simply on account of how much it reminds him that this dream of a night is over. Nanamin isn't…isn't Kento. But at least it's not nothing. “What’s going on?”
There's a pause, no movement, but then Nanami shakes his head.
“Can we get you something?”
Nanami shakes his head again.
“Do you want us to keep playing charades with your feelings or do you actually intend to tell us so we can take care of you?”
And that's it.
That's the dam. His feelings.
And take care of you is what breaks it.
Before he can second-guess it and stop himself, Nanami turns and buries his face in Gojo's chest, shaking. Instantly, Gojo's hands come around him protectively, gentle but firm as if to stop the way he's trembling in his arms. Behind him, Geto shifts closer too, putting his own hand on Nanami’s hip, and the warmth enveloping him helps.
It makes him melt into a puddle of…ugly truths, unfortunately. “It's nothing. It's just - tonight was perfect .”
Silence for a beat.
“And that makes you cry because…?” Gojo mumbles, not unkindly.
“I'm not crying.” Nanami grits out, still positively trembling. He panics, he stresses, he breaks down. He doesn't cry.
“Fine. That makes you act extremely normal and Nanamin-like because… ?”
There's a soft sound when Geto smacks Gojo for trying to be snarky when there's deeper things going on. It doesn't help, sadly, because even though Nanami also would've wanted to smack Gojo, it's that damn familiarity thing all over again. That thing he's left out of. That thing he'll never get again - ever.
“It's over.”
“Yes, well, even the legendary strongest duo and their favorite junior have some limitations.” Gojo muses.
Another smack, because Geto seems to have figured it out this time. “For tonight. It's over for tonight, you understand that, right?”
“What?” Nanami actually, slowly, physically lifts up his head and cranes it towards Geto.
“Oh no.” Gojo laments in the background - like Nanami has committed some great faux pas in asking that simple question. Like it's not the most natural question in the world!
“Satoru.” Geto simply says, instead of a physical smack this time, but Nanami is pretty sure it'll work better. To Nanami, he continues. “Well, you do understand that this - all of this - was only the beginning, right? That we're not going anywhere?”
Nanami stares dumbly at Geto’s beautiful face inches away from him, saying god knows what nonsense.
“You couldn't possibly think that we'd pursue you to this end for just one night of debauchery, right? That we'd risk our friendship with you, or our bond, or - or your sanity, excuse me, to get ourselves some action ?”
It's beginning to sink in for Nanami. “I -”
“We don't need you for a ménage à trois!” Gojo cries out. That…makes sense. They were single handedly and together the most beautiful men he's ever seen. There was no real need to seek out bangs-in-his-face, lanky-side-of-second-puberty Nanami, was there? Then why - “The only reason we'd have to pick you was because we wanted you.”
“No.” Geto corrects. “Because we want you. Present tense.”
Gojo sticks out his tongue at Geto - and Nanami thinks it's his head’s turn. His heart has gone and spiralled out of control, his dick has had the night of his life - it's now his brain's turn to short circuit, concuss, aneurysm, something .
“But you -” He lets out weakly. “But you're so - so familiar with each other. And you're literally meant to be. Why would you - why me ?”
“We're familiar because we've had more time.” Geto smiles. God , he's so pretty, Nanami is almost distracted mid-breakdown. “We’re meant to be because you think we're meant to be. You want to know what we think?”
Nanami nods.
“That we're meant to be.” Geto gestures down.
Gojo has taken this moment to slide his arm around Nanami's neck, like he's a pillow Gojo is keen on cuddling to sleep in particular, and nuzzle close. Geto's arm has already slipped under the pillow at some point during the conversation, and is now what Nanami's head is resting on. His other hand is languidly resting on Nanami's bare stomach, as if enjoying the simple intimacy of it. Gojo's leg is hiked on top of his too - he isn't sure when that happened. But all in all, the two of them are pretty much entwined in Nanami like he's the luckiest saint in all of porno-heaven and Gojo and Geto are his god-gifted porno-angels with Victoria's Secret wings and skimpy lingerie.
All in fucking all - it looks like they really are meant to be.
Nanami's tears refuse to go away though. However, it's for a different reason this time.
“I -” He half-chokes, half-swallows. “Okay.”
On two sides of him are the two loves of his life, warm and beautiful and caring. Inside, he's reassured and flattered and floating on the high of several orgasms. It's more than okay, but he doesn't know what to say.
“Is there anything else?” Geto asks, noticing the tears still glistening in his junior’s eyes.
“Leave him alone, Suguru,” Gojo coos. “He’s probably just crying over how good that last sex was.”
“Or the one before it.” Geto throws back.
“Maybe he's allergic to your bullshit .”
“Maybe you're - “
“Ugh. No. I just love you both.” Nanami interrupts, and out of all the times that he's blushed this long, long night - and there have been many times - this has to be the worst. This has to be hands-down the worst, most embarrassing, self-inflicted, most shy , most ground-should-open-up-and-swallow-him-now of them all.
But then in response to the sudden confession, Gojo and Geto let out a symphony of “Kento!” and wrap themselves around him tighter.
Huh.
Maybe he really can get familiar with this after all.