He smells of booze and cheap cologne. It takes every fibre of Yuuji’s sane being to not recoil back and blow a bullet through the man’s brain using the concealed gun up his thigh garter, hidden by the thin kimono draped over his figure. But for the sake of appearances, he keeps his calm, even as a sweaty hand wanders up his calf.
“You like that?”
Yuuji feels the nausea seep into his skin. Resisting the urge to gag, he simply purrs back, voice sultry and low, “Of course, sir.”
It’s been approximately an hour since he sent the retrieval message back to base, his knight in shining armour should show up any minute now. But as he’s seated on the enemy’s lap, filthy hands roaming the smooth expanse of his exposed skin, he can only think about all the ways to dismember the fucker after this is all over. The red fabric of his lingerie digs angry marks into his skin.
Moonlight from an open window washes over the dips and curves of their bodies. The dim lighting of the massive room, decked out in all gold and black, illuminates them in a barely visible glow. Staring at Yuuji from the middle of the suite, was a Californian king- a constant reminder of what would have to happen if they didn’t make it in time.
Chapped lips mouth over his collarbone, and panic settles into Yuuji’s veins, coursing through his blood and straight to his head, warning signals blaring loudly in the haze of his mind. His hands grip the armrest of the chair tightly, dangerously. He seriously debates reaching for his gun. Any longer of this and Yuuji wasn’t sure if he’d be able to keep up with the charade.
Just as the disgusting pig leans in for a kiss, there’s a rowdy knock at the door, then an even louder crash as the door is thrown back on its hinges. About damn time.
Before Yuuji is even able to react, he feels a calloused hand yank him back by the forearm. The air is knocked out of him as he crashes back into a firm chest, and all at once the entire room is swarming with people- all dressed head to toe in black, a red tiger insignia branded on their backs.
There’s gunshots ringing out in the distance. The man who previously had his hands all over Yuuji is now cowering against the chair in a mix of fear and confusion, head darting around the room as everything is raided right in front of his eyes.
Sukuna’s hold on Yuuji is almost crushing, clutching his pet as close as humanly possible and then some. The sleek black barrel of a gun is raised. Sukuna’s tattooed fingers aim the nozzle square at the man's midriff, its victim gasping in realization.
Arms held high in surrender, he attempts to plead. “Wait please I-”
Bang. It’s ruthlessly cut short, red soaking the front of the mob’s pristine white dress shirt, a horrific scream echoing around the room. Yuuji hardly flinches as both he and Sukuna are splattered in blood that’s not their own.
Everything goes silent for a split second, all eyes trained on the bleeding out rival boss.
“We don’t have all night. Get back to work!”
At Sukuna’s venomous tone, the subordinates resume their duties, proceeding to pillage the entirety of the room. Tendrils of Sukuna’s anger lick at Yuuji from behind. Without so much as a sound, Yuuji could tell he’s fuming .
Twisting in the mob boss’ hold, amber orbs meet fiery crimson.
Yuuji’s voice is laced with honey, “You sure took your time, I thought you’d never come.”
The unadulterated fury residing in Sukuna’s form finally boils over. He threads his fingers through Yuuji’s strawberry locks, and pulls hard, angling the boy’s head upward with a soft growl.
“What the fuck did I just walk into?”
The giggle he’s met with only serves to make him angrier, weight of the gun resting in his other hand suddenly becoming very present. “I was gathering intel, like you told me to,” Yuuji elaborates, saying it like it should’ve been obvious.
“I didn’t tell you to act like a whore,” he hisses back. Tremors run up Yuuji’s spine from the glare burning through him, leaving him weak kneed. He loves when Sukuna gets like this, so riled up and possessive, all for him, only for him. That’s why he chose this method of going undercover, after all. And had called for retrieval just at the right moment, ensuring he’d be caught in the position of the helpless mouse in the jaws of a panther, ready to be ravaged.
Feeling Sukuna’s murderous intent spike, Yuuji decides the teasing has gone on long enough, and cups his lovers blood-stained cheeks with both hands. His thumbs rub the skin below ruby eyes in an affectionate manner, and with a small smile Yuuji leans up and seals their lips together for a sweet, lingering kiss.
He couldn’t help but slip a bit on tongue in, tasting Sukuna as the grasp in his hair drops and moves down to his waist. When they pull away, Yuuj’s brows are furrowed.
“What is it?” Sukuna questions.
“Kisses taste different with blood in your mouth,” he mumbles in response.
Grabbing a handful of bare asscheek, behind the flowing robe Yuuji dons, Sukuna revels in Yuuji’s surprised jolt, and speaks with an annoyed edge. “You love it though.”
“That I do.” Yuuji chuckles and loops his arms around a broad neck, that’s covered in the black fabric of Sukuna’s too-expensive suit. He lowers his voice into an intimate hush for his next words. “I wasn’t going to do anything with him. I promise on my life, I had a pistol strapped in case he went too far. Just wanted to see you worked up, is all.”
The sigh Sukuna lets out is exasperated and overall tired. “I know.” He leans down to playfully nip at his lover’s ear, delighting in the squeal he receives. “Fucking minx.”
No one dares comment on the boss’ change in demeanor, lest they want a head full of lead.
Wordlessly, Sukuna detaches himself from his baby’s hold, perplexed stares following his every step. The click of his dress heels on hardwood floor drowns every other noise, silencing the atmosphere in a tense standstill. A gold gaze watches intently as the same onyx gun is raised, leveling at the limp hand hanging off the side of the chair- the same chair where a lifeless, bloody, body is slumped in.
Two sickening gunshots later, straight through the palm that’s now dripping crimson, Yuuji could feel himself well up with a morbid satisfaction. Twirling the gun in his hand, Sukuna bows his form from the waist, staring straight into the orbs of the deceased. The poison curls around his words, acid spitting from his tongue.
“That’s for touching what’s not yours.”
Another shot, this time through the man’s crotch. The bullet shell clatters to the ground like hellfire.
“And that’s for disrespecting what’s mine.”
When the boss steps back and allows everyone a good look at the mangled body, it’s still silent. Maroon stains the fabric between his soulless legs, right where his unimpressive boner once was. This isn’t only intimidation, this is an example. Nobody touches Itadori Yuuji and gets away unscaved.
Far too used to the sight of blood and their leader’s gorey acts, the raid continues without a single complaint or hitch.
Sukuna pockets his weapon and makes his way back to Yuuji, who stands with his arms outstretched, welcoming his paramour into a loving embrace. Tattooed arms wrap below the round of Yuuji’s ass, and hoist him up to Sukuna’s waist.
With long legs around his torso and an armful of Yuuji, who peppers light kisses on his red blotted cheeks, Sukuna walks out the room and into a thoroughly wrecked hallway, leaving the rest of his men to deal with the cleanup. Glass, remnants of paintings, and plaster litter the floors, glinting off the chandelier light from above.
“You enjoy the show, babydoll?” Sukuna asks huskily, staring up into caramel pools that shower him in sweet affection.
Yuuji, filled with sick love and butterflies from the display of violence, sighs and gushes. “Yes, you should do it more often.”
“If it means having you get touched by filth, then I’d prefer not to. Which reminds me,” he fixes Yuuji with a glare that screams malice, “if you try a stunt like that again, you’ll be in his place instead. Got it?”
Any person in their right mind would crumble from the sheer promise of it all, but Yuuji knows that it’s all empty threats. Sukuna wouldn’t do a thing to harm him. Unless asked to, of course.
Knocking their foreheads together, Yuuji meets his gaze head on.