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At first it's nothing - one of his donors gifts him with a beautiful, hand-painted silk kimono. It’s smooth like water running through his fingers, black and golden, gold cloth obi embroidered with tsubaki. It’s so beautiful that Suguru thanks him genuinely, and doesn’t even kill the man when he catches him staring with too much longing at the way Suguru touches the gift.
Later that day, he even tries it on, and he has to admit to himself that he looks beautiful. He tries to put his hair up and it’s even better, and Manami catches him while he’s admiring himself and suggests -
“Red lipstick, Geto-sama. To complete the look.”
It takes a few months, but eventually the man comes around again and Suguru puts on the kimono, and offers to serve his tea while they talk. He’s so impressed by how beautiful Suguru looks, with his hair up and pinned and red lipstick on his mouth, that he triples the amount of money he sends to the cult - already a generous offering. Then, he sends another kimono, and even more money. And Suguru is amused by it.
He tries it with another donor and the result is even better - the man is struck dumb by how beautiful Suguru looks and instantly donates more money than the cult’s seen in a year, so Suguru realizes that this is an excellent tactic.
Soon, it becomes something that other people can have access to - if they’re willing to pay for it enough, and bring him gifts, they can get a few hours of his time while he’s dressed up in gifted fineries. He pours them tea and acts graciously, does the whole geisha roleplay that’s appropriate for these situations, and the patrons eat it up. No matter how high the prices are and no matter how much money he charges them, they’re willing to do it just for the pleasure of his company. Suguru never does anything lewd or inappropriate with them, except maybe show off a delicate wrist when he pours them sake or tea.
Some of them will pay millions of yen just to play Mah-Jong with him. And he’s never gonna admit to it, but he’s grown fond of the charade he plays with patrons. It allows him some measure of sweetness with himself that he’d never indulge in otherwise, and he likes seeing himself as beautiful - like a beautiful woman. Someone not himself. It’s an occasion to slip into another skin.
And the girls love it - Nanako paints his nails black or red and Mimiko does his hair before each such appointment, and he feels closer to them simply by getting to do it together.
Then, one morning, Manami comes to his room right after breakfast with his schedule.
“You have a new patron today that’s specifically requested to have tea with Geto-sama .”
Suguru blinks.
“A new one? As in, new in the roster, or - ”
Manami shakes her head.
“No, Geto-sama. A new patron, someone we’ve never entertained before. And he didn’t make his own appointment, his assistant called for him.”
“I don’t do tea with new donors,” he says, “It’s not something we just offer, it’s only for highly valued donors,”
“And that’s what I told them, but the assistant said money is no object and that they’re employers really, really wanted to meet you.” A pause. Suguru raises an eyebrow at her, and she sighs, “They offered fifteen million yen upfront just for a booking, so I think it’s worth it just to meet with him.”
Suguru isn’t really thrilled because usually meetings like these are scheduled much in advance, but this time he has to rush it.
“Fine. I’ll meet with him. What time will he be here?”
“This evening. Around six.”
That leaves him ample time to get ready, but he still can’t shake off the mild annoyance he feels. He takes a long bath, shaves his legs just so that his skin is smooth when he puts on the kimono, and rubs fragrant oil on his skin and in his hair. He does his make-up as usual - the white face base, the black-and red eye makeup and the petal red lips. The girls are away with Larue so he can’t call them to do his hair as usual, instead Manami does the intricate updo herself before pinning it in place.
“Which kimono do you want to wear?” she asks, “I think the black and gold one is my favorite.”
“Then you can get that one.”
She helps tie his obi sash neatly in the back, and then looks him up and down appreciatively.
“You look beautiful, Geto-sama. If I had enough money, I would also spend it on you.”
“Thank you, Manami. I supposed I’d be honored to take your money.”
He puts on his tall geta sandals and slowly walks towards his engagement.
These sort of meetings are all held in a separate room of the temple, a traditional tatami room that’s closed off from the rest of the place - there’s a small inner courtyard with an onsen right outside, separated by a traditional shoji sliding door. This room and garden were commissioned by the old cult leader especially for himself, and Suguru has to admit, it’s nice to enjoy the onsen on his own sometimes, after his donors leave. Like a way of submerging his new geisha persona in the hot waters and emerging as himself again afterwards.
Even as he walks down the long corridor, though, he knows there's something - off , though he can’t quite place what the problem is.
And then, when he opens the door, he sees him .
Satoru Gojo. His Satoru.
And it’s been so many years since he’s last seen Satoru - last time it was in Shinjuku, on Memory Lane, angry betrayal on his face and Suguru walking away into the bright setting sun. And now here he is - One head taller than he used to be and much broader, dressed in the traditional kimono and Hakama of the Gojo clan, deep blue and black haori on top. He wears dark sunglasses but he looks at Satoru from over the top of them.
“ Satoru ?” he asks, before he can stop himself, bewildered by his presence and appearance. He looks every bit the powerful clan leader and diplomatic powerhouse Suguru knows him to be.
“ Tsk . No. That’s not how we’re supposed to play this game,” Satoru says, and frowns, and while Suguru is slightly taken aback, he recovers quickly.
If Satoru’s dresses like that …
Suguru huffs, amused, and then smiles at him. Looks at him with half-lidded eyes.
“Apologies, please allow me to start again,” Suguru clears his throat and bats his lashes. He bows delicately and says, “What an honor to have you as a patron, Gojo-sama. To what do I owe the honor?”
He steps into the room gingerly, his long kimono sleeve hiding his hands, bottom of it trailing behind him as he walks. Suguru walks past Satoru and looks up at him as he does so, turns just so that he’ll take note of his bare nape where his kimono is pulled down to expose it. And Satoru does notice, and he stares, and then he looks at Suguru with strange tension on his face, though he smiles -
“I’m here because I heard about your services, obviously. You have such a reputation after all - ”
Suguru cringes internally. He’s never meant for this to get to the point where he’s famous for playing at being a geisha.
“I hope my services will be on par with your expectations, Gojo-sama - ” Suguru says, and then motions towards the tea set in the middle of the room, “Would you like to have some tea with me?”
They kneel down in front of each other and Suguru prepares the tea and hums softly. Then, he pours it gently in Satoru's cup, and flicks his wrist so that the long sleeve of the kimono falls fluidly off, revealing that small patch of skin that makes men's eyes dart. And Satoru’s no better, surely. Suguru offers him his tea cups and makes sure their fingers brush against each other.
“Would Gojo-sama like to play Mahjong with me?”
Satoru snorts.
“Maybe. Maybe I wanna hear you play the shamisen for me. Or maybe I wanna see you dance.”
Suguru giggles, but Satoru looks serious. He tilts his head to the side as he looks at him, and Suguru imagines that maybe if they met later in life, they’d have this sort of dynamic for real, or maybe if they met 100 years ago. What if this was real and not just roleplay.
“Is that what you want, Gojo-sama?”
“No.” He looks at Suguru over the rim of his glasses, and his eyes are dark and serious, and the smirk on his face makes him look smug and nasty, “I want you to service me,” he bites his lower lip as he looks at Suguru, sharp canines poking his lips, “And your kimono’s tied backwards,” he comments.
“It’s not.” Suguru answers, smiles politely but annoyed, “It’s not that sort of service.”
“Isn’t it?” Satoru chuckles, darkly, and then his hand darts out and grabs Suguru by the wrist. He pulls him over the low table and makes the tea kettle spill over the tatamis, “But I want you. I want you,” Satoru repeats, and noses underneath Suguru’s jaw. He tilts his head back and lets him.
“You can’t - I’m not - ”
Satoru doesn’t listen to him, and kisses him roughly, smearing his make up everywhere, forcing his tongue in Suguru’s mouth to taste him, curling around his own. Suguru doesn’t even think about pushing him away, but he sighs and whines into the kiss and struggles a little. Not enough to break free.
“I want you - ” Satoru repeats, as he bites Suguru’s lip and pulls away, wipes the pale makeup on his neck with his fingers and then sinks his teeth in Suguru’s neck. He gasps and bucks, and Satoru’s grip on his wrists tighten, refusing to let go.
Satoru pushes him onto the floor and flips him over, roughly undoing the obi’s tie and unraveling it. Suguru struggles, but Satoru grabs him by the neck, hand pushing under his chin, forcing his head back.
“I want you, so I’m going to have you now, yeah? Now say Yes, Gojo-Sama”
Satoru’s hot breath on the shell of his ear. His voice so scratchy and turned-on, his fingers caressing Suguru’s neck and squeezing slightly. There’s the heat of excitement in his belly, his cock twitching.
He’s angry at himself for giving into this game, but he can’t get himself to stop it even if he could, so he lets it play out. It’s not his true self, anyways. It’s just a whore the Gojo clan-head wants to fuck. And that’s easy.
“Yes, Gojo-sama.”
“Good girl,” Satoru says, and kisses his cheek.
There’s something so humiliating about it, but also exciting. He feels the blush rising everywhere, blood pumping. He kicks his legs back but Satoru’s body on top of him is big and solid, heavy mass bearing down on him, straddling his thighs. Arousal, humiliation and anger mix together inside him.
They’ve never done anything like this - they’ve never even kissed. Not that interest wasn’t there, both of them had wanted it, but it just didn’t happen. And Suguru didn’t think about it anymore, smothered the regrets somewhere deep down and reminded himself it wouldn’t have worked anyways. Now, though? Satoru’s pushing away the layers of his kimono and forcing his legs open.
And Suguru could push him away, but he doesn’t.
“I’m gonna fuck you till I’m satisfied with your performance. And if you're good, I'll come back again,” it's either a threat or a promise. Both.
“Yes, Gojo-sama.”
He hears Satoru growl in his ear, shuffling behind him as Satoru unties his hakama and gets them off quickly. When Satoru pulls his dick out, he drops it heavy on Suguru’s ass and rubs it between his cheeks. He feels huge, and hot, sticky precum smearing on Suguru’s skin.
Suguru looks over his shoulder and they make eye contact, and Satoru’s sunglasses fall to the floor and his eyes are blazing blue, heat and anger and something feral that makes his guts twist. Satoru keeps looking at him as he sticks three fingers in his own mouth and sucks on them mechanically before taking them out and pushing them between Suguru’s cheeks. Suguru’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t protest, just follows Satoru’s movement -
He dips his fingers between Suguru’s asscheeks, watching Suguru’s face, pushing them at the same time - but slowly, making sure Suguru feels the stretch and burn.
Suguru doesn't say anything, he just pants, gasps when Satoru’s fingers drag against his prostate.
“Anyone ever fuck you here?” Satoru asks, and strokes his dick leisurely, “Do you let all your patrons fuck you ass if they pay well?”
Suguru bristles at the insinuation.
“I don't let them touch me.”
“Yeah? I should pay more than.”
Satoru pushes his cock inside rough, and Suguru’s hole wants to clamp down shut against him, pushing him out of his body. Satoru doesn't let him get away from it, though - hand on Suguru’s throat, squeezing, bullying his cock into Suguru’s too tight hole, forcing him to take it despite the pain. Groans against Suguru’s painted cheek as he fucks into him.
It hurts at first, burning and stretching, insides crowded and guts churning as Satoru pistons in and out of him, grinding into his inner walls. There’s just noise between them, a tea room full of lewd, animalistic noises. Grunts and gasps, and Suguru moans. Heavy breathing. Fabric tearing and squelching. Wet. Suguru’s nails scratch at the tatami.
He gets light headed with it, can't think properly. Head full of pleasure that's spiked with pain.
“This hole's clamping down on me so hard. Wants to milk me dry. You know there’s girls lined up with their legs spread for me? Begging to me fuck them?”
Suguru’s sure of it - whether it’s just the roleplay of real life, he’s convinced it’s true. Imagine getting pregnant by the Gojo clan head, knocked-up by the Six Eyes. Everyone rejoicing.
“Is that why you visit whores, Gojo-sama?”
Suguru hasn't been able to get himself off in years but Satoru’s forcing himself on him and Suguru’s dick is rock hard, getting dragged and raked over the floor. It hurts but he can't stop himself from moaning, moves his leg so that he gives Satoru a better angle.
Satoru hooks his fingers against the side of his cheek, smears his lipstick everywhere and forces his mouth open. Can’t keep his mouth shut so now he’s drooling down his chin, fuck .
“Should’ve fucked you while we were in school,” Satoru mutters, not the roleplay but the real-deal, and Suguru moans when he hears it and tries to bite his fingers off. Useless.
His thrust gets erratic and wild, and Suguru tenses up with anticipation, skin prickling, hypersensitive. He’s never craved anything more, tears prickling in his eyes, and when Satoru floods his insides, he shudders and sighs. It’s satisfying in a deep, primordial sort of way. When he pulls out, Suguru’s hole twitches sadly.
“Not done yet, stay still - ”
Satoru makes him sit on his knees, his cum from Suguru’s ass and down on the silks that he loves so much, but he doesn’t protest. He gets Satoru’s dick in his face next, wet and dripping with cum and rubbing itself over Suguru’s cheekbones, his bones. Slapping against his lips.
“Open your mouth and suck it.”
Suguru’s never done this sort of thing before, never even thought about it much. It’s so repulsive, isn’t it? Satoru’s cock, thick like a wrist, and smells like sex, like copper and tastes like a mouthful of seawater. Salty and sharp.
Suguru looks up at him as he sucks on it - just takes it in his mouth all at once and rolls his tongue over it. Leaves red lipstick stains in his cock, on the short trimmed hairs at the root of it. Doesn't let him get soft at all, just keeps sucking on it, let's Satoru use his face like he’s whoring himself out in the back of a tea house to a rich patron. And he fingers himself too, stuffs own fingers with the black nail polish into his sore ass and feels Satoru’s load dripping over his fingertips.
“You’re gonna make me cum again with that pretty mouth of yours.”
Good , Suguru thinks, and hums around his cock, pleased with himself. Realizes he likes this, down on his knees and sucking cock. Maybe not him, but the whore that the Gojo clan-head is paying for. Satoru’s hand on his head, the back of his neck.
Satoru pulls out of his mouth and drags his cock over Suguru’s face, leaves trails of spit, blush and lipstick on the tip. Suguru leans back in his crotch, sucks on his balls while Satoru jerks off against his face, keeps his tongue out dutifully while Satoru paints his face cum, heavy on his lashes.
Satoru kneels down next to him, panting, hair sticking to his forehead from sweat. All his robes are disheveled, and he's looking at Suguru with big, wet eyes. Like Suguru’s supposed to feel sorry for him now.
“I hate your kimono,” he says plainly, “Who bought it for your? I hate it, can’t stand looking it.”
“Are you jealous, Gojo-sama?” he asks, voice rough.
Satoru’s jaw locks and he set his teeth. Annoyed. Face flushed in splotches.
“No.”
It's a lie but Suguru doesn’t call him out on it.