"Wait, wait, wait, Gojo-Sensei! They have the blue ones here!" Satoru turns from his own browsing to see Yuuji pressed against the glass display case of artfully decorated pastries. "Doesn't Fushiguro like these ones?"

"You do know we're supposed to be getting something for you, right Yuuji?" But Satoru just smiles as he walks up to the display case, Yuuji shifting over to make room for him, and takes a look at the sweets on display. "But yeah, he likes these ones and Nobara likes the yellow ones."

Yuuji grins at the case before calling the attendant over. "Then we should get one of each, right?"

Leave it to Yuuji to make his own celebratory shopping trip about everyone else but himself. But that's something Satoru really admires about him, his kindness and selflessness, as well as his strength. He'll be graduating with the others soon, a full fledged jujutsu sorcerer, and soon these little trips and days spent showering his favorite students with gifts will be long gone.

Oddly enough, it's not a thought that saddens him as much as he expected it to. The world needs more people like Yuuji—like Megumi and Nobara too. They each bring something special to the world, a piece of themselves they share whenever they save a life or simply interact with someone. And he's immensely proud of how far they've come–especially Yuuji.

Because Yuuji has been through enough to cripple even the strongest of his kind. He's seen the very worst the world has to offer in ways Satoru is sure even he doesn't fully understand. It's in the distance Yuuji puts between himself and others while he continues to sacrifice for everything and everyone he loves. He's eighteen now, and he wears his tattered heart on his sleeve now more than ever.

Satoru would give this boy the world if he could. He deserves at least that much.

But instead, he hands over his credit card to pay for the sweets while Yuuji holds the little bag like it's the most precious thing in the world. The boy is genuine in ways that always seem to catch Satoru off guard. "So, where to next? We have the whole day, as promised."

Satoru's way of seeing his little trio off is to give each of them their own day to shop and just relax after how hard they've worked to graduate. Nobara and Megumi already had their day, and now it's Yuuji's turn.

"Uh…" Yuuji contemplates as they walk out of the little bakery and onto the busy street. "I don't really know. We ate, which is all I really wanted, and now I'm just enjoying spending time with you, Sensei. We won't get to do it anymore after school ends, right? At least not like this."

"You all will be pretty busy once you graduate, but we will still find time to meet up when we can." Satoru reassures him with a grin. "You can't be rid of me that easily."

Truthfully, Satoru will miss them, and though he knows he'll have new students to train and look after, he also knows no one will ever be able to replace these three.

"Oh! What about the ar–" Yuuji starts to say, voice primed with excitement, before it suddenly fades to silence. It's like something knocked the wind right out of him.

"Yuuji?" They're standing in the middle of the sidewalk, people passing them on either side, but Yuuji looks frozen in place. And something suddenly doesn't feel right. "Yuuji?"

He reaches out to pull Yuuji out of the way of a group of grade schoolers as they come barreling down the sidewalk, and Satoru feels Yuuji flinch the second he grabs his arm. His eyes go wide and Satoru can see the way his breathing picks up, but it's the way he can feel Yuuji shaking that immediately has him on alert.

"Yuuji, what's wrong?" he says softly, cautiously as he gently tries to coax the boy into a less crowded area.

And it's like Yuuji finally takes a breath once they leave the sidewalk and the constant stream of people, now tucked in a small corner between buildings. His usually cheerful face is twisted like he's in pain, like he's seen some kind of ghost, and Satoru can't for the life of him understand what just happened.

"Take a deep breath, it's alright." Because Yuuji is starting to hyperventilate and the last thing they need is for him to pass out right now. "Take it easy, Yuuji. I got ya, kid."

Satoru reaches for him, worried that Yuuji really will collapse if he doesn't steady him, but the second Satoru gets too close, Yuuji flinches away and those usually bright eyes widen again in panic.

"I'm—I'm sorry." He says, but his voice is so low Satoru can barely hear him. He's never seen Yuuji like this before. "I didn't mean—I'm sorry, I didn't… Sensei, I'm sorry."

"Hey, hey it's alright. You're okay. Nothing to be sorry for." But Yuuji may as well hear none of it, because his eyes fill with tears and Satoru can see his hands shaking where they're clenched at his sides. "What happened? What did you see that spooked you like this?"

A number of things pass over Yuuji's face: fear, pain, sadness, and varying degrees of distress before he's trying to plaster on a strained smile, tears sliding down his cheeks as he attempts to apologize again. Completely ignoring Satoru's question.

"I'm, uh, I'm sorry for ruining the day. I'll make it up to you Sensei, I promise." Satoru doesn't recognize this boy at all. "But can we—can we go back home now? Please?"

"Yuuji–" he starts, not even sure what he wants to say.

"I'll tell you," Yuuji interrupts, voice thick with rising tears. "I'll tell you, but can we go home first?" And this time it's Yuuji reaching for Satoru, hand twisted in the fabric of his blazer like he's scared Satoru will disappear. Like he's scared to be alone.

"Yeah, yeah we can go back." Because what else is Satoru going to do? Hasn't Yuuji suffered enough?

So they wait for Yuuji to calm down a bit, let the tears and the shaking pass, and then they start making their way back to the school. Yuuji stays close the entire way, closer than he's ever stood next to Satoru, and he drops his infinity in the crowded area just to let Yuuji know he's right there.

The walk back is quiet, but fairly quick given how long their legs are. And Satoru wishes he could make a joke about it like he usually would, pick on Yuuji for how tall he's gotten like Satoru isn't standing at 6'3" like a glorified tree. But it doesn't feel right. Not when he's thinking about what Yuuji could have seen to make him act like this. Not when he's remembering how little Yuuji has ever let anyone touch him or come too close without him being aware of it or initiating the contact himself.

It's damn near too much to think about, but then they're at the gates of the school and Yuuji almost looks like himself again, except he's not smiling, which means he doesn't really look like himself at all.

They continue their silent walk up countless stairs, their footsteps echoing off the ancient stone walkway, and right into the dorm that only Yuuji and Megumi occupy now that everyone else is gone, and they haven't taken on any new students. Satoru isn't sure if he should follow, and part of him wants to give Yuuji a chance to be alone if he needs, but Yuuji stays by his side and all but leads the way, and for Satoru that's enough. That, and he wants to know what the hell is going on—and who has to die for putting that look on Yuuji's face in the first place.

Because after all they've seen and done in the last three years, if whatever this is has Yuuji this shaken up… Yeah, someone has to die.

Yuuji opens his door and Satoru is glad to see his hands have stopped shaking. The silence is still heavy, and given that Yuuji talks even in his sleep, the weight is an uneasy one. Which makes Satoru even more curious, even as his stomach drops just thinking about what Yuuji will say when he's finally ready.

Is Satoru even equipped to handle whatever answer he may get?

"Thank you, Sensei." It's Yuuji's voice, quiet and broken, that decides for him. Satoru would do anything for Yuuji. Always.

"What are you thanking me for? Walking you home?" Satoru's voice is just as soft, and Yuuji cracks the barest of smiles at his words.

"For always being someone I can rely on. For always being there for me."

He immediately recalls a time when he wasn't around, the one time Satoru failed to be the strongest, but he doesn't say anything to Yuuji about it. It wouldn't help here, and all Satoru wants to do is help.

"You never have to thank me for that. I do it because I want to, because you matter to me."

"I know." And Yuuji says it like he really knows. It makes Satoru's heart ache.

He doesn't want to push, because something here isn't right, but he's sure if he doesn't, Yuuji won't tell him what's going on. He's always needed that little push.

"And because you matter to me, I'll always want to protect you, to help you, in any way I can." Yuuji nods as he sits on the edge of his bed, hands folded together like he's bracing himself for what's coming. Satoru wishes he could brace himself too. "But I can't help if I don't know what's wrong, Yuuji. So, do you wanna tell me what happened earlier? On the street?"

The misery that crosses Yuuji's face breaks his heart. Because Satoru understands that kind of pain, how it eats at you from the inside, he just wishes Yuuji didn't.

"I saw someone," he says, eyes trained on the floor. "Someone I knew when I was a kid and living with my grandpa. He was our neighbor and he'd come over and talk to gramps, or just drop off stuff every now and again." It's like a part of Yuuji fades away as he speaks.

"And then he started staying over when gramps would get back late from running errands or working at the store. And it was nice, ya know. 'Cause it had always been just us and I really liked having him around. He was like a big brother to me."

Satoru listens silently, his heart hammering and his mind racing trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together before Yuuji can even finish talking. He needs to know what happened. Did someone get hurt? Betrayed? Who the fuck was this guy?

But Yuuji may as well be on a different planet. And Satoru watches while tears gather in his eyes again, his breaths shaky and uneven as he continues.

"But there was this one weekend when a really bad storm came and gramps got stuck at the store all night because the river flooded, and no one could cross until after it passed." Yuuji's hands clench and unclench into fists, his tears hitting the floor with little drip drip sounds, and Satoru swallows around the lump forming in his throat when the unease starts to make him dizzy.

"And like always, he came to watch me. And I was happy to see him when he showed up, ya know? I was so scared of storms when I was nine. The lightning terrified me and the thunder would shake the house, and the rain was so loud…"

Yuuji goes still, just completely spaces out, and the look in his eyes is so distant while he stares at that same spot on the floor. Satoru can't just stand there anymore.

It takes only two short steps to place him in front of Yuuji's white knuckled fists, and as he squats down, his knees bumping into Yuuji's long legs, those sugary brown eyes focus on his face for the first time since they left the city.

"He was laying in bed with me," he whispers, like the words alone will shatter him to pieces. "because I couldn't sleep when it felt like the entire house would come falling down at any second. And he was rubbing my stomach, because he said it would help calm me down, and he was right. I think I started to fall asleep, because I didn't even notice that his hand had moved to my pants… until he was taking them off of me."

It's a white hot blade right through Satoru's chest.

And then it gets worse.

"I tried to move, I tried to get away, but he was so much bigger than me. I-I told him I didn't want it. I begged him to stop… I begged." He chokes, like he's gagging around the words. "But he just kept touching me no matter how hard I tried to fight or how loud I screamed."

There's no life in Yuuji's eyes anymore. His irises are dull and lifeless, like he's trapped in that moment years later, like he's reliving it all over again.

Satoru's never felt so helpless.

"The harder I fought the worse it got. And then he was on top of me." Yuuji's breathing goes ragged and his fists start shaking, he's clenching them so hard. And Satoru fears his fingers will snap under the pressure. But he can't say anything, he can't stop him when Yuuji needs him to listen, to be here for him.

So he slowly covers Yuuji's fists with a gentle hand, swallows around the bile threatening to spill from his gut, and he reminds himself to be what Yuuji needs.

"He was so heavy, it felt like I couldn't breathe. And he kept trying to touch me, grabbing me between my legs until it hurt and I screamed even louder. And I just kept screaming. I screamed and I screamed, until he hit me so hard I bit my tongue and almost passed out."

"I was so dizzy I almost threw up, that's how I remember it feeling. And when I started trying to scream again he hit me again. But I just kept screaming, I kept trying so, s-so hard and he finally got so tired of it he flipped me onto my stomach and shoved my face into my pillow."

Yuuji hiccups through a sob, the sound so raw it guts Satoru on the spot.

"He ripped my pants and underwear off and I felt him spit on me, and then he shoved his fingers inside me. It hurt so much, but I couldn't scream anymore, I couldn't even breathe. I couldn't fight—I couldn't do anything—so I just… gave up."

It's like watching all of the air be drained out of the room. Yuuji just… he looks so defeated, so small and vulnerable and broken. Like a doll with all of its strings cut. And in that moment, vile as it is, the words just come spilling out of him.

"Even when he finally let me go, I just laid there. And when he took his fingers out, and I knew what was going to happen, I knew, I just laid there and let it happen. It felt like hours, but he just kept going. I remember all the blood on my blankets and between my legs, I remember not being able to walk or move or even breathe without it hurting for weeks."

"And nothing ever happened to him. I never told gramps, I didn't tell anyone, and he just kept coming over like it never even happened. So I pretended it didn't." Yuuji's eyes finally begin to clear, and the sadness behind them feels hollow and endless–infinite. "And then he moved to the city a few months later and I never saw him again… until today."

In the span of ten minutes it's like he's watched Yuuji age decades. Satoru wants to hold him, to pull him close and protect him, keep him safe. But there's nothing he can do to keep Yuuji from the memories that haunt him, no matter how badly Satoru wishes he could reach into the boy's mind and erase them completely. No child should have to live through that.

"I'd never let anyone lay a finger on you. Never again." Is what Satoru finally settles on after a short time passes. "I'm sorry there was no one there to protect you then, and I'm sorry you've had to live with this for so long all by yourself."

He doesn't have to ask why Yuuji never gave him up, or why he kept this to himself for so long. The answer is he was scared. He was a little kid with no idea who to trust after something like that. In truth, none of this is his fault, and those questions shouldn't be asked of him anyway.

"But you're not alone anymore, Yuuji. I can promise you that."

It isn't until Satoru is rubbing circles along the back of Yuuji's hands, slowly trying to get him to relax before his fingers break, that awareness starts to creep back into his expression. One minute he's not there, and the next he's letting Satoru's fingers intertwine with his own, eyes slowly moving back and forth between their joined hands and Satoru's face.

"There you are. I'm right here." And in the next breath he's got a lap full of Yuuji, his arms wrapped around Satoru's neck.

They nearly fall over when he's forced to take all of Yuuji's weight, and it would be something they both laugh about if not for how truly destroyed the boy looks in his arms right now.

"I'm so sorry, Yuuji. I'm sorry he hurt you."

"I wish I could forget." Yuuji sobs, and he sounds so small. That nine year old boy all over again. "I wish it wasn't the only thing I thought about when other people touch me."

Satoru freezes where he's rubbing circles along Yuuji's back. It's painful to imagine someone so warm unable to connect with others because of this. He knows Yuuji's never dated, he's said so himself, but Satoru always chalked it up to Yuuji's life being chaotic since he became a sorcerer, he never would have imagined this was why.

Satoru drops his arms and stands, forcing Yuuji to drop his arms from Satoru's neck to his waist to continue hugging him. "I wish I would have known. I'd have done things differently…" He wouldn't have been so reckless with how he touches him, he would have kept his distance if he knew how awful it was for him.

But Yuuji shakes his head, a small smile on his face that doesn't quite reach his eyes like it should.

"I've always felt safe with you, Sensei. I know you'd never hurt me." Yuuji's arms tighten around Satoru's waist, his face pressed fully into his neck. "I trust you. I've always trusted you."

"Yuuji…"

"Just you, Sensei. No one else could… I don't think I could handle someone else touching me, not like–not like that."

And then it clicks. Satoru knows what Yuuji's asking of him, or what he's trying to ask. And no part of him wants to deny Yuuji a chance to heal and take this part of himself back from the man who stole it from him so long ago. So he holds him just as tightly, even when he can feel Yuuji's tears fall against his neck, and he once again demands of himself to be what Yuuji needs, what he deserves.

"I'll do whatever you need me to, Yuuji. Just ask, there isn't a thing I wouldn't give you." He'd kill that piece of shit and curse him for eternity if that's what Yuuji wanted. Satoru may just do it anyway.

"I want to forget what his hands felt like when he touched me. I want to remember something else, something better–someone better." And there it is, unmistakable and earnest in the way Yuuji finally looks up at him. The trust Satoru sees makes his heart hurt. "Can you help me forget, Sensei? Please?"

If only Yuuji understood the lengths Satoru would go to give him the happiness he deserves.

"If that's what you want," he says, voice soft and even as he caresses Yuuji's cheek. "I'll do everything I can to make sure he never crosses your mind again." It's the way Yuuji's tears spill over when he smiles up at him, like the first rays of sunlight after heavy rain, that nearly makes Satoru's legs give out. A man like him could live a thousand lifetimes and never be worthy of something as genuine and good as the trust being given to him right now.

"Thank you, Sensei."

"You never have to thank me for this." He'd do it hundreds of thousands of times over without hesitation. "Just tell me if it's too much. I don't want to hurt you, Yuuji."

"You won't," he says without a hint of uncertainty. "I know you won't."

It feels right when Satoru leans down and kisses him. It's soft, so unbearably soft, and Yuuji sucks in a shaky little breath before leaning into it. It's so painfully obvious this is his first kiss, and Satoru wants it to be one Yuuji remembers with that warm feeling in his chest when he thinks back on it. He never said anything about being kissed when he shared his past, so Satoru thinks this is the perfect way to begin scorching the memory from his mind.

Everything in contrast. Satoru will handle him with care, with patience and understanding, with the kind of devotion he so rightfully deserves. Satoru will make his first time–because that's what this will be–he will make Yuuji's first time one that makes those sugary brown eyes light up when he remembers it. So he pulls Yuuji close, angling his head to better reach, and Satoru kisses him slow, and soft, guiding him until they find a steady give and take that has Yuuji clinging to him sweetly.

Satoru can feel the steady beat of his heart, the softness of his lips, salty from his tears, and the way Yuuji begins to seek him out, leaning fully into the kiss until he's breathless with it.

When they pull apart for air, Yuuji looks almost dazed. His lips are pink and shiny, fuller from dancing across Satoru's own, and Satoru can't help but think the boy looks beautiful like this.

"Was that alright?" he asks, giving them both a moment to collect themselves. He needs to know that Yuuji is okay, that he's getting what he wants and Satoru isn't pushing him too far.

But Yuuji just smiles at him, eyes wide with wonder and a kind of shyness befitting the rose petal blush coloring his cheeks. "Y-Yeah, I liked it." His eyes shift from Satoru's eyes to his lips and back again, the blush growing darker when he whispers, "can we do it again?"

"Anything you want," Satoru reminds him, before pressing their lips together again.

He's rewarded with a small moan, the sweetest sound carried on a rush of air as Yuuji kisses him back. Satoru lets him lead, lets Yuuji find his own way with a steady hand at his side, a gentle guide here or there, and allows himself to be used while he takes what he needs. There's no rush, no need to hurry things along, and Satoru marvels in the way Yuuji reacts to something as simple as a kiss.

He's hesitant at first, unsure now that Satoru isn't leading him, but he so quickly finds his way and there is nothing more beautiful than the way he melts into Satoru's arms. They kiss like that for a time, a lazy exploration that leaves Yuuji panting gently against his lips, the obvious bulge in his pants going ignored for now so that they can enjoy the novelty of something as simple as a kiss.

Even Satoru feels it; it's impossible for him not to. Not when Yuuji's every movement, every expression, is laced with a kind of wondrous curiosity that he can't help but enjoy. He remembers what it was like to be so affected by a kiss.

"I didn't know it could feel like that," he says, breathless with awe.

"Like what?"

"I could feel it all the way down to my toes."

Satoru can't help that way he laughs, a genuine laugh that has Yuuji smiling right along with him. He looks so much more like himself again. "I hope it always feels like that for you."

Yuuji nods, staying in the circle of Satoru's arms with his own arms wrapped around Satoru's middle. Their height difference makes him feel small, even though Satoru knows just how much muscle Yuuji's body holds, just how powerful it is, and he places a kiss right where those unruly pink curls begin.

"Sensei… do you think–do you think we could…" Yuuji tries a few times, either unsure of what he wants to ask for, or maybe just scared to ask for it.

"Whatever you want, remember?" Another gently spoken reminder. "Don't be afraid to ask me, or show me, or tell me what to do. This is for you." He'll continue to reassure him as many times as Yuuji needs. He wants to do this right.

He feels Yuuji nod as he takes a deep breath, the rise of his shoulders in sync with Satoru's own. And Satoru waits, expecting Yuuji to eventually tell him what he wants. But what he doesn't expect is for Yuuji to take a step back, take another deep breath, and then pull his hoodie, along with the shirt underneath, over his head in a single rushed motion.

Satoru watches that rosy blush rise up Yuuji's neck and across his bare chest when he darts his gaze away for a moment, the hoodie tossed on the floor, and says almost to himself, "I want this."

But what Satoru hears is, I need this.

"Alright," and he steps back into Yuuji's space slowly, not yet reaching for him. "Tell me how you want this to go." He's reassured he's done the right thing when Yuuji's shoulders drop as he physically relaxes with yet another deep breath. One step at a time.

"I, uh," Yuuji swallows. "I want you to touch me. You don't scare me, and I-I like when you touch me, when you hug me or ruffle my hair. I've never let anyone get that close, Sensei. Only you."

Satoru immediately pulls Yuuji back against him, his skin stunningly warm to the touch, and feels him relax once again. "Okay. What else?" Yuuji gives him a questioning look, and Satoru readily explains. "How much do you want me to touch you? Where?" He runs his hands up Yuuji's arms and over his shoulders, stopping when he has Yuuji's face in his hands.

"I know this is okay," because even now Yuuji melts into it, relaxing into Satoru's caress. "But what about this?" And he moves his hand, slow enough that Yuuji could stop him if he wants, until it's pressed just above his belt line. The muscles in his stomach quiver against Satoru's fingers. "Is this alright?"

He can see the way Yuuji has to steady himself, the way he swallows around his nerves before he covers Satoru's hand with his own, fingers trembling slightly, and slowly, so slowly, moves it to cover the semi-bulge in the front of his pants. "It is, if it's you."

And that knocks the air right out of Satoru's chest.

He waits a moment, lets the weight of Yuuji's trust settle over him, and then Satoru palms him between his legs. His fingers and palm cup the entirety of Yuuji's erection, growing fuller under his ministrations, and Satoru sees, with all the clarity of his six eyes, the way Yuuji's entire being shudders at the contact.

"Sensitive," he muses out loud, dragging his thumb over the very tip of Yuuji's cock where it's peeking above his waistband. "Are you ready?"

"Y-Yeah." Yuuji breathes, rocking further into the touch in search of friction.

His response makes it even more satisfying when Satoru leans closer, hand still teasing Yuuji through his pants, and he whispers right into his ear.

"Then I want you to take these off for me and sit down on the bed."

He gets a tiny whine in return, sweeter than Satoru's favorite candy, and then he feels Yuuji's hands slip between them to jerkily undo his pants. A part of Satoru realizes his heart shouldn't be pounding this hard, he shouldn't be looking forward to this, but he just can't help himself when Yuuji has been nothing but honest, and eager in his desire to own his body, his past and his future. There's a strange mix of pride at Yuuji's strength, and desire of his own at how responsive Yuuji is.

His pants and underwear hit the ground with a muffled thump, his belt rattling as it hits the floor, and Satoru doesn't move an inch. He waits and watches as Yuuji follows his instructions and sits at the edge of the bed, his dick just as flushed as the rest of him where it stands hard and needy between his spread legs.

"Good. Very good." Satoru praises, receiving another whine in return, just as sweet, just as delicious as the first. "Do you want me naked as well, Yuuji?"

"Yes, please," he answers far too quickly. There's an excitement mixed in with the nerves that makes his voice shake, and Satoru wants to reward the courage it took for him to answer at all.

So he strips and lets Yuuji take it all in one article of clothing at a time.

Satoru can't help the way he gets off on Yuuji's reaction to him. The way his breath hitches when Satoru's jacket and shirt come off, his shades tossed away with them. Or the way he goes wide eyed and slack jawed when Satoru doesn't hesitate to kick his shoes off and let his pants slide down his long legs.

Satoru has always known what he does to people, how they see him, obsess over every inch of him, but it's never mattered to him until now. Yuuji is staring at him completely awestruck, speechless, stunned into a heart-stopping silence with nothing but devotion and a dazed kind of wonder in his eyes. It's the first time in a long time Satoru has felt anywhere near as beautiful as everyone tells him he is.

"You've seen me naked before, Yuuji," he says with a hint of a smile, a gentle teasing he can't stop himself from enjoying.

"Not like this."

"No, not like this," he agrees. Because this is definitely not just them changing in the locker room after training. "But it's still me."

He swallows the tiny little "yeah" Yuuji gives him in answer when he leans down to kiss him again. Yuuji responds to it just like before, opening up for Satoru and pushing into the kiss with that same greedy enthusiasm. It's addictive, holding this power, and Satoru knows enough about power to understand the significance of it.

He guides Yuuji onto his back, using his height advantage and his weight to ease him down until he's lying fully on the bed with Satoru above him. He knows Yuuji doesn't think when they touch like this, he simply lets himself feel, allows himself to do what feels right. It's how his fingers end up in Satoru's hair, and how he arches against him when Satoru slots himself between Yuuji's legs.

He knows what he wants, and when he just lets himself feel, when he doesn't stop to think about anything—or anyone—else he has no problem taking what he wants. Exactly how it should be.

Satoru breaks their kiss, Yuuji chasing after him with blown pupils and kiss swollen lips, and quiets the groan of protest about to spill forth by wrapping long fingers around Yuuji's straining erection.

"You've touched yourself here, yes?"

Yuuji's moan makes Satoru ache to touch his own cock.

"Yeah, yes, uh, y-yes."

"Show me."

And with all the grace of his years, Yuuji wraps his hand around his dick, exactly as Satoru instructed, and proceeds to steadily pump his clumsy fist up and down while Satoru watches. It's nice to see the uncertainty, the shyness quickly be replaced by the desire to just feel good as Yuuji's hand speeds up. He gets carried away so easily, like it feels better just because Satoru is watching him.

"Slow down," he chuckles, and the hand comes damn near to a complete stop, leaving Yuuji panting as his chest rises and falls with each ragged breath. "We aren't ready for that, not yet."

Satoru places Yuuji's hands on his spread thighs, his legs bent at the knee, and trails a single finger from the tip of Yuuji's pretty flushed cock, down the twitching length of him, over the smooth skin of his taint, and stops just over the raised edge of his hole.

"What about here?"

Yuuji sucks in a strangled breath as Satoru's fingertip grazes him, barely kissing the twitching hole as Yuuji struggles to get himself together.

"No, I wanted—I wanted to, but I couldn't…" comes a whispered reply, that little flicker of uncertainty, of unease, making Satoru back off just a touch.

"Do you still want to?"

"I want you to do it, Sensei." Yuuji says in a rush, words jumbled together with how fast they spill from his lips. He's got his fingers wrapped around Satoru's wrist, nudging him closer, moving his finger back to where it was pressed right against his hole. "You don't have to keep asking. I know you won't hurt me, and I—I really need this."

Satoru would wonder just who Yuuji is trying to convince when he says that, except he can see that Yuuji wants it. It's in the tight grip he has on Satoru's wrist, in the pulsing lines of his dick, still hard where it sits leaking against his stomach, and it's in the way Yuuji's eyes plead with him, begging Satoru to give in.

So he does.

He's been hesitant and trying to take it slow to allow Yuuji time to adjust, to give him a chance to call stop if he needs to. Because Satoru doesn't want him to suffer anymore than he already has. But Yuuji can make his own decisions, he knows his own mind and his body better than anyone. So it's not his place to make those decisions for him–that's on Yuuji. And Yuuji wants this.

"I know. And I'll give it to you."

Yuuji lets out a shaky breath before releasing Satoru's hand, his own returning to his raised knee. Satoru leans over to pull open the nightstand by Yuuji's bed and rummage through it. Even if he's only been jerking it to get off he should still have something–his fingers knock against a small plastic bottle and he pulls it out, immediately having to hold back a laugh.

"I remember giving this to you as a joke, I didn't think you'd keep it."

It's a small bottle of lube, nothing interesting by itself, except it has a picture of Satoru's face on it that says, 'Safe Sex is Great Sex' that Satoru thought was the funniest thing ever at the time. Megumi and Nobara had thrown theirs at him the second they saw it, but Yuuji held onto his and Satoru just thought he was being polite like always. But judging by all this—the straining erection and the way he responded to Satoru's kiss—it was definitely more than kindness that made him keep it.

Satoru pops the cap, not bothering to wait for Yuuji to say anything when the bright red flush crawling up his neck is telling enough, and drizzles the lube over his fingers before tossing it onto the bed. And then he's back between Yuuji's legs, a slick finger pressed to his rim while he begins rubbing teasing circles against it.

Yuuji tenses at first, the lube isn't exactly warm, and Satoru eases up to let him adjust. A full body tremor, strong enough to rock the bed, shoots through him the instant Satoru starts to press his fingertip inside.

"Relax for me. Take a deep breath," he says as he places a trail of warm kisses down Yuuji's thigh. "Good, that's good. Do it again, let your whole body relax."

Yuuji, always such a good boy, sucks in unsteady breaths in, out, in, out over and over until he begins to release the tension in his body. With each exhale Satoru eases his finger deeper inside, exploring the warmth of Yuuji's body and how stunningly tight he is.

"You're doing good, so, so good, Yuuji." Satoru doesn't take his eyes off him. He continues his trail of kisses, light touches of his lips to Yuuji's warm skin, and is gifted with a soft moan when he finally manages to roll the pad of his finger against Yuuji's prostate.

It's like watching fireworks dance behind his eyes, the way Yuuji's mouth hangs open, lips locked in that stunned 'O' shape as Satoru does it again. This time the moan is louder, less guarded, and Satoru takes that as his cue to add another finger.

Yuuji is incredibly sensitive, and mind-blowingly responsive. By the time Satoru has worked him to three fingers there isn't a trace of fear or uncertainty or hesitation coming off of Yuuji. He's completely hard, cock red and weeping as it bobs with every curl of Satoru's fingers.

He's vocal, moaning and panting and begging Satoru to do it again while telling him just how good it feels, even when he can't find the words. It's beautiful to watch, even more so because Satoru gets to be the one to show Yuuji just how good it can be.

"Touch yourself, Yuuji." Satoru instructs, the words thick and heavy with his own desire, and Yuuji's hand flies to his cock so fast the motion blurs before Satoru's eyes.

A part of him still worries that this will somehow trigger him, that Yuuji will lose himself somewhere between the pleasure of now and the pain from the past. But Satoru wants to trust that Yuuji will tell him if it's too much, if he can't take it, and he holds onto that as he works his fingers in and out of Yuuji's body, fingers curling directly into the boy's prostate as his hand frantically tugs at his cock.

"Sensei, Sensei, I'm–oh my god–" Yuuji cuts the last word off with a hard exhale, like someone jabbed him right in the gut while he was trying to speak–and then he's making a mess of himself, cum shooting across his chest and his neck as his hand continues to move over his pulsing cock.

Satoru can feel him bearing down around his fingers, ass working back on them almost like he's trying to fuck himself through his orgasm but can't decide if it's too much or not. It's impossible to look away from the look of utter bliss on Yuuji's face, or to not be affected by the unrestrained moans he lets loose as spurt after spurt of cum splashes against his skin. Truthfully, it's the most incredible thing Satoru's ever seen.

Yuuji, completely unguarded and thriving in pleasure he didn't have to give himself, that he willingly allowed someone else to give him… it's a treat unlike anything else.

"You still with me?" he asks as he pulls his fingers free as gently as he can, still getting a low whine of discomfort from Yuuji despite his efforts.

"That was amazing."

And it's the pure awe behind the words that makes Satoru laugh. "I'm glad you enjoyed it."

He lets Yuuji catch his breath before asking, "how are you feeling?"

Satoru is glad he doesn't answer right away. Yuuji takes a moment to think it over, to take stock of himself, before meeting Satoru's eyes again.

"I feel okay–good, actually, I think."

"Good enough to keep going? If you want, that is." But Yuuji seems to already have his mind made up.

"Yes," he says in a rush, immediately turning red at Satoru's grin. "I mean, yeah, I wanna keep going, please."

"Okay, just let me know if I need to stop," he says, and Yuuji gives him a single nod in understanding before Satoru moves to position himself between Yuuji's legs.

The mess of his orgasm is shiny on his chest where it's dripped down his sides, and Satoru only just stops himself from running a finger through it as he pulls Yuuji against him by his hip, causing the boy to turn an even more stunning shade of red. It's endearing, how Yuuji wears his emotions for everyone to see, especially this. Satoru quite enjoys the view.

"Relax for me, I'll take it slow," he instructs, because Yuuji is wound so tight now that Satoru is between his legs he can see the tension in every line of his body.

"Like you said, I'd never hurt you, Yuuji."

He grabs the lube again, popping the top quickly and drizzling a generous amount over his cock and fingers. Satoru would rather be safe than sorry on this, so if that means they need to get a little messy, then so be it. He strokes himself a few times to make sure he's good and coated, the way Yuuji watches the motion has his stomach doing somersaults, and then he's rubbing the remaining lube against Yuuji's softened rim to distract him from the feel of those brown eyes on his dick.

Satoru eases into Yuuji's body, guiding the head of his cock until it slips past the loosened ring of muscle with a satisfying ease. "That's it, you're doing perfect." And then he slowly allows the boy's body to welcome him deeper.

Yuuji's breath hitches as Satoru rocks forward, his fingers twisting in the sheets as his legs lock around Satoru's waist, as his body struggles to take him fully. Satoru sees the tears before they even begin to roll down Yuuji's cheeks.

"Yuuji," he calls out to him, trying to pull him out of his head, trying to pull him back. "Hey, it's okay. Just breathe." Yuuji's eyes are squeezed shut and he's starting to choke up around the wet sounding breaths he's sucking in. He's overwhelmed and starting to shake, and Satoru stops moving entirely to help ease him through the panic.

"I'm right here, just like I promised." He covers Yuuji's hand with his own, rubbing across his strained knuckles until Yuuji finally releases the sheet and interlocks their fingers. He's holding on so tightly Satoru can already feel the circulation to his fingers getting cut off.

"Stay with me, Yuuji. Stay here."

Yuuji gives him a jerky nod, eyes still closed. "O-Okay."

"Open your eyes, look at me." It takes a moment, but after a deep, shuddering breath Yuuji cracks open watery eyes to look up at him. "Stay with me."

Even in this situation, when he's half buried in the boy's body, even while tears streak his face and Yuuji looks like he'll fall apart at any moment–Satoru can't help but think this kind of vulnerability looks heartbreakingly beautiful on him.

He's got one hand caressing Yuuji's face, the other still held by his fierce grip, and Satoru makes up his mind to do the only thing he can think of to give Yuuji the peace he needs, the release he deserves–he pulls Yuuji into a kiss, deeper than the ones before, and then pulls him up and into his lap.

Yuuji makes a startled noise that Satoru quickly swallows as he maneuvers them into a more comfortable position. He pulls Yuuji more firmly into his lap, the sudden movement dropping him the rest of the way onto Satoru's dick and knocking a sharp gasp from the boy.

"M'sorry, should have warned you first. But I think you'll like this more."

"No, no," Yuuji half groans into Satoru's mouth before wrapping both arms around his neck. "I do, I-I like it."

He's more present now—still a little shaken, but present—and Satoru gives him a moment to adjust to the new position while dragging his tongue over Yuuji's bottom lip.

"This is supposed to be different, so we'll do it like this. This way," he sucks in a sudden breath when he feels Yuuji tighten around him, testing the position by wiggling his hips. "This way you're in control. We go at your pace."

Which may be the most strenuous test of his thread-bare restraint, because Yuuji feels incredible and Satoru wants so desperately to feel those molten walls tighten around him again until the boy can't move, much less think.

"Wanna try," Yuuji pants against Satoru's lips, fingers tangled in his hair as he slowly lifts his hips with a hiss of discomfort. "Fuck—you're… it's big."

Satoru doesn't say anything, though in any other circumstance he'd probably make a joke about just how big it really is, or maybe even preen like a damn peacock at the compliment. But instead, he simply wraps a tight arm around Yuuji's middle, his other hand braced on his thigh, and he helps guide Yuuji as he steadily begins to find a rhythm to his movements.

The pained gasps and the ever present tension in his body begin to shift into muffled moans pressed into Satoru's neck, and a warm, welcoming body in his arms. Yuuji clings to him as he finds a perfect up, down, up, down pace that eventually has him taking every inch of Satoru with those sugary sweet moans again.

"Look at you," Satoru says around a moan of his own, he's beginning to lose his cool here. "You're doing so well, Yuuji. And you feel so good." There aren't words for how incredible this feels, it's fucking unbearable.

"Sensei." Yuuji looks on the verge of tears again, but it's not like before.

"Come on, you can do it." The encouragement may even go to Satoru's head. Because he's supposed to be helping Yuuji overcome his fear, helping him find comfort in connecting like this, but no matter how strong he is, Satoru is only human. And he's damn near downing in just how overwhelming the pleasure of this is.

That's why the sudden way Yuuji smashes their lips together, knees braced on either side of Satoru's legs as he begins to move in earnest, catches Satou completely off guard.

He can taste Yuuji on his tongue as he listens to the filthy way their skin slaps together every tip Yuuji lifts all the way off Satoru's dick just to slam right back down again. It's enough to make his toes curl against the sheets. And all Satoru can do is hold on to Yuuji as tightly as he's holding onto Satoru.

Because their kiss gets deep and messy and spit slick while the two of them swallow down each other's moans and grunts of pleasure the faster Yuuji goes.

"Yuuji–shit–Yuuji you don't have to–" Satoru wants to tell him he doesn't have to rush, that he doesn't have to do it like this, they can take it slow. But Yuuji is already shaking his head, breaths ragged as he presses each raw moan straight into Satoru's mouth.

"I want it, I want it, I don't want to stop. Please don't tell me to stop."

Satoru wouldn't dream of it.

And he gets swept up in the current of Yuuji's race to the edge with no desire to be saved.

Satoru can feel just how hard Yuuji is between them, his cock bouncing and smearing pre all across Satoru's abs with every frantic rock of his hips. And Satoru lets himself be used, lets Yuuji pull them both closer and closer to the end because there's nothing in this world he wants more than to watch Yuuji get exactly what he wants.

"Thank you," Yuuji pants, words coming out in a hot rush of air. "Thank you, Sensei." He says it over and over again, more sincere, more open and raw and painfully genuine than Satoru has ever heard it. Thank you, thank you, thank you, it continues. And Satoru doesn't have the heart to stop him.

So Satoru holds him, and watches as he loses himself to what Satoru knows is a blinding kind of pleasure. And then he's blessed with the vision that is Yuuji hitting that long sought after peak. He slams himself down once, twice, and on that third time Yuuji comes with a watery cry as he makes a mess between the two of them. And Satoru wishes he were a better man, one who could give this to Yuuji without taking anything in return, but he's not.

The sight of Yuuji covered in a sheen of sweat, body trembling with the aftershocks of his orgasm, and the way he clings to Satoru like he's desperate to keep him here–all of it is too much for even Satoru to resist. He comes a few short moments after Yuuji does, cock still buried in the steadily pulsing vice of the boy's ass, and nearly goes cross eyed from the force of it.

He feels, more than hears, Yuuji groan as Satoru holds him in place, filling him to the brim despite how sensitive his body must be right now. And when he can finally see past the stars dancing in front of his eyes, Satoru sees Yuuji staring back at him, the look of satisfaction and contentment unmistakable behind his unshed tears.

Satoru can't remember a time when he was truly speechless, or when he couldn't find the words for what he was feeling. But in the moments after, in the silence that follows, he's not upset at the loss. It feels right, holding Yuuji like this. And later, when they've finally untangled themselves from one another and cleaned up, when Satoru is lying in Yuuji's bed with the boy tucked snuggly against his chest, Satoru whispers into the darkness,

"What are you thinking about, Yuuji?" It's the smile he can hear in Yuuji's voice as he whispers back, "nothing," that truly sets him at ease.

"Good."