Thrust… thrust… thrust.
The rhythm began slow, almost cautious, like a heartbeat testing its own strength. Then it built — faster, harder — the air around them thick with heat and breath and the soft creak of the bed beneath their tangled forms.
Yuji's fingers threaded through Gojo's hair, his grip tightening every time a wave of pleasure rolled through him. "Ahh—" His voice broke, the sound caught somewhere between a gasp and a plea.
Gojo's breath came rough and uneven, the kind that shivered against Yuji's skin. His lips grazed the curve of Yuji's neck before his teeth followed, a hungry scrape that made Yuji's back arch helplessly. Every touch, every movement between them was frantic, unrestrained — the sound of two people losing sense of where one ended and the other began.
The room was drowned in warmth — the scent of salt, sweat, and something uniquely theirs. The air pulsed with Yuji's soft, broken sounds, blending with Gojo's quiet groans and the rhythm of their movements.
"Senpai— there— ahh—!" Yuji gasped, voice trembling as he clung tighter, his legs drawing him closer until Gojo could feel every tremor, every desperate pull.
Gojo's breath hitched. "Too much, Yuuji… you're—" His words cut off in a rough exhale, his forehead pressed to Yuji's, their breaths mingling, uneven, wild. He moved again, chasing the feeling, chasing him.
Yuji's body shuddered, overwhelmed by sensation, his mind blank except for Gojo — his voice, his warmth, the way he said his name like it was a promise and a prayer all at once.
"Senpai…" he whispered, his voice trembling, "I love you…"
Gojo froze for half a breath, eyes softening even as his body trembled from restraint. Then he smiled — a raw, wrecked thing — and pressed a kiss to Yuji's temple. "I love you too, Yuji. More than I should."
Their rhythm quickened, the air thick with heat and need, every breath tangled between gasps and broken moans.
"Ahh—ahhh, Senpai! Senpaiii, I love you!" Yuji's voice cracked with pleasure, his fingers digging into Gojo's shoulders, scratching down his back as his body arched helplessly beneath him.
"Hah… hahh… Yuuji—" Gojo's breath came in ragged bursts, his hands gripping Yuji's hips tighter as his movements grew frantic, desperate, chasing the edge that burned just out of reach.
Then, with a choked gasp, he finally came — warmth spilling deep inside as Yuji's body shuddered around him, a cry breaking free from yuji's lips. Their breathing tangled, rough and uneven, as the world around them blurred into nothing but the fading echoes of their release.
+++
For a long moment, there was only silence — the kind that hummed between heartbeats. Gojo's breath came in shallow, uneven bursts against Yuji's skin, their bodies still tangled, sweat cooling under the faint hum of the night air.
Yuji's fingers were still curled weakly into Gojo's shoulder, trembling slightly as if his body hadn't yet realized it could rest. His chest rose and fell, slow and heavy, each exhale a faint shiver.
Gojo leaned back just enough to look at him — to really look. Yuji's hair was a wild mess, his cheeks flushed, eyes glassy and wet, his lips parted in that dazed, soft way that made Gojo's chest tighten almost painfully.
Gojo reached up, thumb brushing gently under Yuji's eye, wiping the faint trail of tears that had escaped."You okay?" Gojo asked, his voice quiet — hoarse, gentle, almost uncertain.
Yuji blinked, then gave a small, tired nod. "Yeah… I think so." His voice came out rough, a whisper tangled with exhaustion and warmth. Then, softer, with a shy little laugh, "You look worse than me, senpai."
Gojo's lips curved faintly, eyes bright despite everything. "Guess you wore me out, Yuji."
That earned a sleepy smile from Yuji, who shifted slightly in Gojo's arms, finding the space just under his chin. The sound of the wind outside carried faintly through the night — steady, rhythmic, grounding.
Then Gojo's voice broke the quiet, low and almost tender and teasely: "You really shouldn't love me, you know."
Yuji's fingers dug lightly into Gojo's bare chest, refusing to let go. "Too late."
Gojo smiled at that — a small, broken thing. He pressed another kiss to Yuji's hair, eyes fluttering shut as if the moment might vanish if he looked too long.
"Yeah," he murmured. "Me too."
Then Gojo's hand rose, trembling just slightly, to cradle Yuji's face. He leaned in, brushing a slow, delicate kiss against Yuji's lips — not desperate, not rushed. Just… gentle.
Yuji melted into it, answering the kiss with quiet understanding — a warmth that said I know, even if he didn't have the words.
When they finally pulled apart, Gojo rested his forehead against Yuji's once more, breathing him in like something sacred. "Sleep," he murmured. "We'll deal with the rest tomorrow."
Yuji hummed softly, half-asleep already, and Gojo stayed like that — holding him closely...