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Yuji supposes that, in theory, he could have just fought Higuruma Hiromi. No doubt the man was a formidable opponent, but he was still brand new to sorcery. Yuji would’ve had the advantage, he’s certain. And in another lifetime, maybe he went for it. In another lifetime, maybe he pried the 100 points out of the man with nothing but the punishing force of his own two fists.
But when he walked in and saw Higuruma laid out like that in the bathtub, warm steam curling around his face in tendrils and the wet fabric of his shirt plastered to the lean muscles of his solid, imposing frame—well, Yuji got an idea.
He wasn’t just a dumb kid who solved everything with violence anymore, after all. Right along with the basics of sorcery, Gojo-sensei had taught him some…other things as well.
And so when asking straight out for the points didn't work, Yuji decided to try something else.
“Let me say this differently,” he said, and pulled his shirt off over his head in a single smooth, practiced motion.
A stirring rush of water as Higuruma sat up straighter in the tub—his eyes honed in on Yuji’s newly bared chest.
“Give me the points,” Yuji told him, “and I’ll give you something in return.”
“You know," Higuruma breathes now, his words breaking off on a gasp as Yuji’s hips buck forward in his lap. “W-Wait—what did you say your name was?”
“I didn’t,” Yuji pants, hand running up his stomach and over his chest to play idly with the sensitive nub of his nipple. He’s dropping a hint—and not for the first time, either—that he wants Higuruma to do the same, but the man seems determined not to take the bait. “But it’s Itadori. Itadori Yuji.” He moves his hips again, arching his back and making sure to clench down hard around the thick, hot length of Higuruma’s cock as he does so.
The man moans softly, and his eyelids flutter into half-mast as he averts his gaze from the sight where they’re joined and tips his head back to face the ceiling instead. Yuji feels the warm, firm press of fingertips digging into his thighs, and internally congratulates himself on a job well done.
Evidently, Higuruma Hiromi is enjoying himself. Just like Yuji knew he would.
Yuji’s managed to coax him out of the bath and onto the floor; has laid him back across the smooth wood of the stage. All dressed up still in his suit, shirt and barely loosened tie.
From a distance, Yuji muses, Higuruma would almost look halfway respectable—if a little damp—except for one minor detail:
The fact that Yuji, himself dressed in nothing but his stirrup socks, is currently sitting on his cock.
“Itadori-kun,” Higuruma sighs, and thrusts lightly upward. Hard enough for Yuji to bounce a little in his lap, and nearly lose his seat. “When you said you were going to try a different way of speaking—" He tries the move again, but Yuji’s ready for it this time. This time he sits down as Higuruma thrusts up, the sensation prompting a hoarse moan from the both of them before the man continues. “I didn’t expect this was what you had in mind.” His hands shift from Yuji’s thighs to his hips, and he flicks his gaze over to Yuji again. Over to Yuji’s face, instead of his—
“Oh,” Yuji says, a faint, false pleasantness in his voice that doesn’t reflect his true feelings even a single bit. “Sorry, Oji-san.”
He rises up on his knees, his thighs flexing under the strain as he makes to sit up. As he lets Higuruma’s cock drag out, slow and hot, against his insides, until he can only just feel the thick weight of the head still inside him.
Higuruma hisses, gritting his teeth as he tightens his grip on Yuji’s hips.
Yuji pauses, meets Higuruma’s gaze and cants his head to the side. All wide-eyed, unassuming, innocent.
All very much an act, of course.
“Did you not want me to stop?” he asks, but before Higuruma can get an answer out, he slams his hips back down, taking all of his cock back inside at once.
Higuruma groans, his eyes squeezing shut as he shudders and lets go of Yuji’s hip to throw an arm across his face as, deep inside, Yuji feels his dick pulse with a single, eager throb.
Yuji smirks. He gives Higuruma a second, then two, to recover before he starts moving his hips again. He enjoys the wild, glazed look in the man’s eyes, once he finally lets his arm fall away so he can watch the way his cock disappears into the welcoming heat of Yuji’s body.
Then—
“You’re very good at this,” Higuruma says, “for a—how old did you say you were, again?”
“I didn’t,” Yuji says, then, “Does it matter?” He pointedly doesn’t acknowledge the first part of Higuruma’s statement. He knows he’s good.
He has a good teacher.
Had.
“I suppose it doesn’t,” Higuruma muses. “Although...if you’re as young as you look, I could be charged with a felony across multiple—"
Yuji rolls his eyes, and cuts the sentence off with a hand over Higuruma’s mouth.
“Oi, oi,” he chides. “Weren’t you the one who said you wanted to try new things? Things you thought were wrong?”
Slowly, Higuruma nods. He brings his own hand up to wrap his fingers around Yuji’s wrist and tugs on it, and Yuji could resist and win, he’s sure, but he doesn’t. He lets go instead, and frees the man’s mouth as he leans back on his haunches and picks up the pace again.
“This is wrong,” Higuruma breathes, his eyes honed in on Yuji’s, his voice focused and deep.
Yuji keeps going. “But it feels good,” he pants, eyes fluttering closed as he chases his own pleasure. “Right, Oji-san?”
Higuruma doesn’t stop him. Yuji knew he wouldn’t.
Instead, “Yeah,” he says, and wraps his free hand tentatively—almost experimentally—around Yuji’s long neglected cock as Yuji, with a soft, pleased sigh, shifts the angle on his thrusts. As Yuji finds his own sweet spot and starts to hit it every time.
“It’s even better,” Higuruma tells him, voice low and eyes fixed on Yuji’s cock as he starts to jerk it more confidently, “than I expected.”
Yuji thought it’d be easy after he made Higuruma come.
He knows what he’s doing, and this isn’t his first time. Or his third, or fifth, or tenth. Truth is, he’s lost count by now of how many times he’s brought Gojo-sensei to completion inside him, and found his teacher sweet, pliant and above all most accommodating, in the afterglow.
He expected it’d be much the same for Higuruma.
He was wrong.
“Why would I give you my points now?” the older man asks, after they’ve both caught their breath and Yuji has, rather optimistically, raised the question of the points once again. “You want to end the games, correct? Well, I’ve made it clear that I don’t.”
He looks over at Yuji, who’s lying next to him in a slowly cooling wet spot of his own making.
On seeing the unconcealed outrage on Yuji’s face, he laughs.
“What’s that look for? I don’t recall making any promises.”
Yuji’s snaps his jaw shut and splutters, “But you said—you said you’d give them if I—and we just—"
“Actually, Itadori-kun,” Higuruma says, voice laced with a gentle condescension that only serves to enrage Yuji further. “I said nothing of the sort. You said you’d give me something if I gave you the points, and I agreed.”
“Yes, and I gave it to you!” Yuji insists, stubborn. “And now it’s your turn. You need to hold up your end of the deal!”
Higuruma shifts, then, remarkably fast. He moves so the bulk of his larger frame hovers above Yuji, his hands braced on either side of Yuji’s head—caging him lazily in place. He smirks down at Yuji, and there’s a wild, dangerous gleam in his eyes that has alarm bells going off at the back of Yuji’s mind.
“The problem, Itadori-kun,” Higuruma says slowly, those dark, near-black eyes trained intently on Yuji’s own, “is that you didn’t actually specify what, exactly, you would give me.”
Yuji’s mouth flies open on a protest, but before he can speak a word out loud Higuruma’s hand is up and covering it. “And,” he continues pointedly, “you certainly didn’t specify how much."
He grinds his cock, still exposed, against Yuji’s, and Yuji’s eyes widen in shock to find it already hard again.
Wait—
“Hrrmgh?” Yuji asks, then, “How?” when Higuruma dutifully removes his hand from over his mouth. Not even Gojo-sensei gets this hard again right after. It usually takes him an hour, at least. Hell, it usually takes Yuji twenty minutes, and he’s got better stamina than anyone. “What kind of Ossan are you?”
Higuruma frowns, apparently offended.
“Hey,” he says. “Watch who you call Ossan. I’m not even forty yet.” He reaches down and gives Yuji's nipple a hard pinch as punishment, and Yuji flinches, but—
Finally, he thinks. The faint twinge goes straight to his cock, and at this rate he knows it’ll be up and ready to go too in no time at all.
Higuruma must notice the way Yuji’s cheeks flush in developing arousal, because he raises his eyebrows in mild interest but doesn’t comment.
Instead he leans back onto his knees and says, “Remarkable, though, isn’t it? Since the Games started and my Technique manifested, it’s as if I’ve had all this energy I never had before. But more importantly—"
He averts his gaze for a moment to scrounge around on the floor for the hand lotion they’ve been using for lube, and on finding it, starts to slick it up and down the length of his cock.
“What you’ve done, essentially,” Higuruma says, spreading Yuji’s legs apart as though it’s the most casual thing in the world, “is hand me a blank check to collect upon in whichever way, and at whatever quantity, I want.”
Yuji sits up. “That’s not—”
A sigh, heavy and put-upon, as Higuruma lines his cock up with Yuji’s entrance again. “Are you really going to argue with a lawyer on something like this, Itadori-kun?” He glances up, a mild question in his gaze. “Do you want my points, or don’t you?”
Yuji feels his mouth thin and he swallows, audible in the still, echoing silence of the theatre.
“You’ll give them to me, then, if I let you do this? You’ll let us add the rule?”
Higuruma nods. “Of course. I’m a man of my word, you know. I’d say it’ll be a few hours, though, before I’m too tired to continue. Satisfy me enough between now and then, and the points are yours.”
For a long moment, it’s all Yuji can do just to hold his gaze. He can feel the thick head of the man’s cock, warm and wet, against his rim—pressing there, insistent but not quite firmly enough to push inside.
It’s Yuji’s choice, then.
You can still fight him, he tells himself. You can still win, and then—
And then, what? Even if he does win, there’s no guarantee Higuruma will cooperate. It’s like he said—he hasn’t made any promises, one way or another.
Except this one.
Satisfy me enough, and the points are yours.
Yuji looks away. He scowls down at the ground and takes in a long, deep breath.
He can do this. He knows he’s good. It’s why he came up with this idea in the first place. If he was good enough for Gojo-sensei, then he’s beyond good enough for Higuruma Hiromi.
A sharp flicker of want, pure and selfish, lances through his heart at the thought of his teacher, and he sends out a soft, silent apology for what’s about to happen.
For what’s already happened.
“Well?” Higuruma asks, and Yuji lies back down. He lets his eyes fall closed as he sighs, and...
He nods.
“Okay,” he says lowly. “It’s a deal.”
His word are met with a brief silence and the weight of Higuruma's hand, as it comes to settle at Yuji's bare hip. His thumb glides featherlight across the skin, and if Yuji didn't know better he'd almost call it tender. Then—
"Glad to hear it," Higuruma says, and it's all the warning Yuji gets before he thrusts forward and slips inside.