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“Breathe in,” Suguru said, and his voice was so low it was scraping against the husk at the bottom of his register. He was counting, but the water crashing in Satoru’s ears was drowning it out. “Breathe out,” he said, and then a horrific pain splintered across Satoru’s chest.
Even his addled state, Satoru could hear the sound he let out, some amalgamation of a cry and a whimper, as he felt the needle sluice through each individual layer of skin. The bar was hot and heavy in his body as Suguru went to grab the jewelry and put it in.
And the worst part is, it felt incredible. The synapses were firing all over Satoru’s brain, sending a shock up his spine and shivers all over his body, suddenly hot to the tips of his toes. Suguru replaced the needle with the jewelry and the tiny moment of re-insertion felt like Satoru might be able to come on the spot.
He whined, a little, and hoped desperately it sounded like pain.
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Gojo Satoru doesn’t handle pain well. Or at all, really. But Suguru is just so nice with his clients, takes care of them so well, and Satoru wants to know what that feels like. Sue him.
Basically, Gojo finds out he has a pain kink and takes Suguru along for the ride.
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