Utahime crosses her legs, letting the skirt fall over her legs, cool air gracing her legs in the overheated bar. Gojo’s across from her gesturing wildly to Nanami, the last person left behind in their celebration of his birthday, morally obligated to wait till everyone leaves to leave himself.
Shoko left half an hour ago, kissing her temple and telling her to just order a cab home. Utahime will, the lights dance lazily and she doesn’t want the stutter start and stop of the train to fuck up her mood.
A hazy mood. The drinks tumble around her veins, warm and fluttery. Her top falls off it’s shoulder, and the little show of skin draws Gojo over like a beacon. He stops mid sentence, stuck on her collarbones, staring, then turns back and finishes what he was saying.
Utahime kicks at his chair leg. “Hey. Let him go home, Nanami’s exhausted.”
Gojo blinks at her behind sunglasses, then back at Nanami. “It’s your birthday. Do you want to sleep early tonight?”
Nanami yawns, and hearing the pause in Gojo’s tone, takes the opportunity to swing his jacket on. “Yes. Get home safe. Bye.” He waves at Gojo, reaches forward to kiss Utahime’s temple, and leaves the bar with the single goal of getting to bed.
“What the fuck? Why’d he kiss you but not me?” He pouts, watching Nanami leave.
“Because I’m not a dick.” Utahime answers for him, stretching.
He watches the muscles of her arm flex in silence for once, eyes occupied by the splay of light on her skin. It’s blatant and the attention brushes her pleasantly. She unfolds her legs, crosses them again. Like clockwork, Gojo’s eyes drop down the length of her calves, glazing them with heat.
“Do you want one?” She asks him. Alcohol buzzes under her fingertips.
Gojo hums, looking up at her. He licks his lips and considers it. “One what?”
Playing oblivious annoys her, and she kicks his chair again, this time making contact with his thigh. “Stop playing.”
Gojo breathes out of his mouth, eyes wide. “Are you going to offer?”
Utahime raises her brow. “That’s what I asked.”
He turns to her fully, pulls her in by the band across her chair legs. A hand snakes up her neck, cradling her jaw, and with raspberry vodka breath, he kisses her light, pressing down on her bottom lip with pressure, asking over and over and over in the single touch.
She pulls him closer and opens for him, licks the taste of the night out of his mouth. It’s sweeter than expected. Her own drink, sour lemons and mint on her tongue wiped clean from him.
He breaks away from her and sits back, his eyes wider. His collar’s open the first few buttons in the heat of the crowd around them, lips parted, and it’s so easy for her to just lean forward and take them again, harder.
He kisses her loudly. The feeling of it settles in her muscles.
Utahime steps back from him and into her chair. The clock ticks on the longer she stays in the bar, only the two of them from their group now. She has things to do in the morning but she can’t keep her mind focused on what exactly.
Gojo drops a hand down on hers. “Are you going home now?”
She looks at him, nods. A blush blooms on his nose, spreading over his cheeks and ears, down his neck. It’s chased by the alcohol of the night and Utahime has the wild realization that actually, Gojo is very pretty.
His lashes flutter as he talks. The pout of his lips pointed. “What if you fucked me?”
She sits up, swallows air, and asks, “What?”
“You can’t even pay attention in a conversation, no wonder you never leave the school campus. I said,” he says again, eyes bright, “what if you fucked me?”
She looks at him, waiting for an answer with his hands loose, and looks at her drink half filled. The gloss mark on the edge of it taunts her and it’s irritating, just irritating, so she stands up fully on her heels and ignores the smug grin on Gojo’s face.
“Yeah. But I’m not paying for a cab.”
He laughs at her like she said something careless and that pulls the irritation up even higher, more so when he scoops her up by the waist like she actually weighs nothing, and teleports to the stairs of his apartment easily.
“Careful,” he laughs, shaking and dropping her down. He fishes his keys out of his pockets, lets them inside, and walks through it to his bedroom. Utahime follows wordlessly and drops her jacket onto a chaise on the side, watches him unbutton his shirt and throw it onto the floor.
He sighs and pulls his undershirt off, pushes his boxers and pants off in one swing, tosses them in the same direction as his shirt. His glasses are delicately placed on his bedside table and he flops down onto his bed, ignoring the mess around him to grind the flat of his fingers on his pussy.
Utahime watches still and silent, just paying attention to the swipe of his fingers on the folds between his thighs, the quiet tilt of wet as he rubs impatiently. He watches her watch, smile growing wider, cockier. Blood rushes down Utahime’s body, to her dick and back up to the tips of her fingers. She flinches minutely when Gojo slaps his hand down on himself.
“This is what you wanted? So selfish?” She asks, walking up to him laid out in front of her. She knocks his hand out of the way, holds it away from himself. He bites his lip in anticipation, his legs spread and inviting.
Utahime remembers the light gasp out of his mouth when she kicked him, and raises her heel, pushes his legs further apart, showing his cunt rubbed pink to her.
“I thought you’d just stand there all day.” He says, raising his brows at her. “Are you? Are you just here to be an audience?”
Utahime slides her heel down from his knee to groin, then presses the tip of her toes on his clit slowly, watching him shudder under it, eyes fluttering shut. She grinds it down harder, pushing and rubbing up and down, spreading the slick of his pussy out over the hood and then down, bringing gasps out of his mouth and down to her dick.
Utahime alternates pressure over him, just till it’s wet enough she almost slips, and asks, “You didn’t actually say anything. What did you want from me?”
He groans out instead of answering, and she presses her heel down again. She asks him again, and it’s different, a yelp that sings to her dick to be let out of her skirts. She lifts her heel off of him and steps back, pushes her skirts off and freeing her cock out of it’s confines.
Gojo sits up in confusion and spots her stroking herself lightly. “Oh, it’s here.” He says, still impatient.
“What did you want again?” Utahime asks, rubbing herself in front of him.
“Do you have a bad memory too?” Gojo spits back. He leans forward, busy watching the glide of precome on her palm.
She runs her hand through his hair, pulls him forward. “You need to learn to shut up.” She tells him, fucking her own fist into full hardness.
Gojo smiles, biting the set up, “Are you going to make me?”
Utahime takes the invitation for what it is, pulls him down on her cock, shivers in the warmth of his mouth. It’s too much, she swims in it as he sucks her down, carrying her to the brink through the twist of his hands and the hollow suction of his tongue.
He plays with her cock in his mouth, bright eyes watching her through his lashes. He lifts up to the head, sucks it between two lips, tonguing the slit. It spirals in her gut and Utahime pushes his face off of her, pushes him down onto the bed.
She takes his legs and spreads them, Gojo’s wet cunt open for her, glistening as she runs her fingers through, flicks her index at his clit. She levels her cock at the slot of his pussy, rubs it back and forth, lightly brushing his clit, letting it stand proudly.
She waits, letting her cock dip in and out in shallow movements, not actually pressing into the wet heat he’s promising, not until he says what he’d asked for earlier. He twists his hips, trying to slip Utahime’s dick in himself and she would, just a little brush of him, just to ease the heaviness of her right now.
“So?” She asks.
“Just,” Gojo starts, “you’re waiting because you’ll come the second you get in me, right?”
She tips her cock in a little further, just a hair deeper, sighs, and pulls out to rub at his clit again. She waits a moment, and Gojo rolls his hips to pull her in anyways.
She drops a hand down on his stomach, drags up and lines herself up again, waiting. She looks at him, red faced, bitten lips, staring and watching with anticipation. She keeps looking into his eyes as she presses herself in, groaning at the tight heat enveloping her, bottoming out in Gojo.
She shifts her hips, and pressing her hand down on his stomach, pulls out almost and thrusts back in, wincing at Gojo’s moans. The spit slick sounds of his sopping wet cunt and her dick, the clap of it all, sounds through his bedroom obscenely, racking Gojo with shudders as he rides through her fucking with his eyes closed.
It’s satisfying here to see him finally quiet, and it’s on her cock. He presses around her, sighing and dropping tension, as she slings her dick in and out of him. Her top falls down over her chest, her hair tumbles out of it’s hold, Gojo’s legs shake in her hands as she holds them against his chest. For once, he’s not playing around. His mouth occupied with gasps, full of pleasure instead of unneeded commentary.
She slips in and out of him and the hand on his stomach runs down to rub his clit in time with her thrusts. She pins up, fucks him fast, driving him to come on her cock, his walls dancing around her, coaxing her to orgasm.
Utahime pulls out and comes on his stomach instead, her muscles loose, her brain cleared, thick ropes of it dropping down onto Gojo’s stomach. She breathes out, looking at him fucked out on the bed.
It’s a sight to see. He watches her tiredly, then twists and pulls out tissues to wipe everything off.
“So, are you going to take a cab?” He asks, dropping down and nestling between the covers. Utahime takes off the rest of her clothes and pulls the covers over herself anyways, ignoring the question. He’ll teleport her back tomorrow morning.