Chapter Text
You arrive back at campus late. Medical checks are procedurally required after missions, so despite all of you being beyond tired, you make the long trek across campus to Shoko's office.
As you're walking the lantern lit pathway, the delirium of your long day hits it's peak, and you somehow end up debating a tier list of pastries. Nanami, as it turns out, is very well versed with baked goods, and has a lot of opinions on bread. Yuji is similarly enthusiastic, which is nice to see given the heavy conversation you’d shared on the sidewalk.
His ability to take such heavy things in his stride knocks you down a couple pegs. At the same age, you'd regarded your position in the jujutsu world with disgust. That disgust festered something much darker and meaner. The static worldview you trusted to justify your actions became a crutch. Rage—your memento. Nothing else penetrated.
Yuji is the antithesis of that. He doesn’t bottle things up. He doesn't hesitate. He submits to his feelings in their entirety. It’s a refreshingly healthy way of living, and a good habit for a sorcerer.
You're proud of him for being so open about everything, and that pride feels unearned.
“No, the icing to cake ratio does matter. Too much icing—you lose the essence of the cake.”
Yuji shrugs. “You can just scrape it off and eat the cake by itself.”
“So you have a cake with no icing? The whole point of the tier list is for both things to compliment each other so well they become evolved—like a Pokémon.”
“But we’re judging baked goods, not baked goods ‘with icing’.”
Nanami shakes his head. “The context is about cake, so that doesn’t apply. I’d argue that a chocolate cake needs icing to be good, otherwise I’d consider it a bottom tier item.”
You give a sharp nod. “Ah-greed.”
Yuji scowls. “What about cheesecake, huh? They don’t have icing.”
“They have accoutrements."
“Accoutre—what?”
“Y’know, passionfruit glaze, blueberry compote. Plain old chopped strawberries.”
Yuji folds his arms over his chest. “They don’t count either then. I’m talking about the basics. Y’know, the…the flesh of the cake!”
You slowly shake your head at him. “Don’t call it flesh.”
“Cake then!” He parrots, waving his hands around imploringly. “Cake is fine without icing. My grandpa used to make it for me all the time!”
“It’s a majority vote, Itadori-kun,” Nanami says evenly.
Yuji gives you both a disgruntled look and stalks forward, grabbing the door handle to Shoko’s office building and yanking it open. You and Nanami share a concerned look and then follow after him.
The lounge is empty, which isn’t surprisingly at this time of night. Shoko’s office door is just around the corner. You can see a post it note attached to the frosted glass. You get close enough to read it.
'OUT FOR A SMOKE. BACK IN TEN’
“Outstanding,” you mutter.
Nanami sighs. “I guess it can’t be avoided.”
Yuji lets out a yawn and flops down on the couch. You follow, perching yourself. You tap his feet—warning him to move them off the upholstery. He sighs, but listens, pulling himself up to sit with his arms crossed over his chest.
Nanami goes over to the water urn and pours himself a cup of coffee.
“Would you like one, Kanzaki-san?” He offers.
“M’good thanks. If I have caffeine this late I’ll be bouncing off the walls.”
Yuji puts his hand up. “I’ll have one!”
“Nope,” you deny.
Yuji wilts into the couch again. “I’m being ganged up on…”
You toss a pillow at the back of his head. “I’m looking out for your developing brain.”
He picks up the pillow and hugs it to his chest. “Is this one of those tiny miseries that only adults understand?”
You bark out a laugh. “Where the hell did you hear that?”
Yuji points at Nanami.
Nanami nods. “Being an adult is mostly shit. That is why chocolate cake with icing is important.”
You let out a silent laugh through your nose. “Annd it’s back to icing.”
“Do you like mochi?” Yuji asks, changing the subject.
You shrug. “Daifuku is great, but it also depends on the flavour.”
“Are we adjusting the tier-list for that?” Nanami asks.
“Well…” you strum your fingers against the armchair. “Once you start getting into flavouring, I fear the list could go on forever. I'd say that strawberry mochi is distinct enough on its own to be considered more than just a flavour variant.”
Yuji nods. “Strawberry is sooo good!”
Nanami takes a sip of his tea. “I prefer red bean.”
“You guys need to expand your mochi game,” a new voice chimes in. “You sound like old ladies.”
Panic sinks it’s claws into your face. You all turn towards the door as Gojo walks in. He’s got his hands in his pockets, a small smile playing at his lips.
“Gojo-sensei!” Yuji exclaims, sitting up right.
Gojo waves as he crosses the room, heading straight for the coffee pot Nanami made. Your eyes follow him, absorbing his body language. He seems relaxed, but that’s always been his fall-back state. You stare at the back of his head as he stirs his paper cup, wondering what he's thinking. Suddenly an image pops into your head; Gojo's flushed, tightened face. Your fingers dragging through his undercut. The way his voice had turned to a low, sultry purr as he made you climax.
Your face spasms. No. Bad. Stop. You rattle off every disgusting thing you can think of until it goes away, but it’s already too late. Gojo's noticed you staring. His smile deepens, turning smug.
There’s no avoiding the accuracy of his Six Eyes, and it leaves you quietly mortified. Heat rushes up your spine and you duck your head to stare at the floor.
This isn’t how you planned on confronting him. Confront? Is that even the right word? Whatever it is—it certainly didn’t involve catching you in the act of checking him out.
Yuji bounces over to Gojo like an excited bunny. “I didn't think you'd be here! When did you get back?”
“Couple hours ago,” is his causal reply.
Your fingers curl into your palms. Him acting so put together in your presence stings. You're floundering around like a moron, trying to string sentences together in your head, and he's as self-possessed as ever. The logical part of your brain knows it's good thing that he’s being nonchalant. Any deviation from Gojo's expected countenance would create questions.
What would’ve you have done anyway? Skipped up to him and given him a kiss?
You cringe just thinking about it.
“We were just filling in time,” Yuji says, replying to a question you’d missed with your bad ear. “We gotta see Shoko before we can go to bed. The curse we fought that had bad breath and we kinda breathed it in.”
“It was carbon dioxide,” Nanami corrects.
"Yikes," Gojo hums, sipping his coffee. "I'm guessin' you helped them out with this one, Nanamin?"
“I assisted Kanzaki-san and Itadori-kun, yes.”
Gojo’s quiet for a beat. “Anything else I should know about?”
“Our driver is a snitch!” Yuji exclaims. “He lead us straight to a trap with a special grade and we still kicked it’s ass!”
Gojo tilts his head. “A special grade? Was that on your mission plan?”
“There was no mission plan,” you cut in, keeping your tone as level as possible.
Gojo’s expression shifts. “Right.”
There’s a rasping sound as the sliding door on your right opens again, revealing a very tired-looking Shoko. She’s wearing a dark woven sweater and some high waisted jeans; a very chic look in comparison to her usual garb. She looks around at all of you and then quietly sighs. “Who’s injured?”
You and Yuji raise your hands like school kids.
“C’mon then,” she points at Yuji as she rubs her shoes on the doormat. “Students first.” She glances at you, the bags beneath her eyes turning to craters in the dull lighting. “It’s campus policy.”
You shrug. “All good.”
Shoko takes Yuji down the hall, shutting the door with a slight rattle behind her.
You sigh. “She’s pissed.”
Gojo gives a hard nod. “Yup.”
“I don’t blame her,” you gingerly stand up from the armrest, mindful of your back. “Shoko’s also getting the short end of the stick with HQ’s bullshit.”
Nanami frowns. “They’re very persistent in these underhanded tactics.”
You hum in agreement. "Who knows what would’ve happened if you hadn’t stuck around tonight."
“Without Sew, we would’ve asphyxiated long before we were able to exorcise the curse.”
You let out a sigh.
“We have such warm conversations,” Gojo croons.
You give him a look. “The jujutsu world isn’t exactly know for it’s stories on magical trees and rainbows.”
“Magical trees?” Nanami asks.
“It’s a children's book. And no, I will not be answering anymore questions about why I know that.”
Nanami takes another sip of his coffee. “Is this a weird hobby of yours?”
“What did I just say?”
“You read children's books, I believe.”
Gojo looks between you two, confused. “Did I stoke out? I swear Nanami just made a joke.”
You rub the corners of your eyes. “Shoulda taken your offer on the coffee."
“It’s terrible,” Nanami comments. “But it’s making the overtime marginally bearable.”
“Oi,” Gojo’s voice cuts in. “Are you two ignoring me?”
You turn slightly. “What?” You ask, confused. “Did you say something?”
Gojo’s lips twitch downward slightly and then he pouts. “I was talking that whole time! Were you seriously not listening?”
Nanami smiles slightly.
Did he do that on purpose?
Wow. Shit stirring behaviour from Nanami Kento of all people.
“I blew my eardrum on the mission.” You flick your left earlobe. “I can’t hear shit from this side.”
Gojo tilts his head at you. “Wait. Really?”
“Really.”
He take two large steps towards you like he’s playing hopscotch and leans forward into your personal space. His forehead pinches like he’s squinting at you, analysing the truth to your words. You fight every instinct inside of you to back up when he inches closer to your face.
“Why didn’t you protect your ear canal with cursed energy?” He asks. His tone is levelled—dangerous.
“I was preoccupied.”
“With what?”
“A mass of curses. I had to get rid of them first or we would’ve been inundated.”
“You reckon?”
This fucker. You know exactly where he’s going with this. “I was breathing in carbon dioxide the entire time. I barely knew what planet I was on by the time it popped my eardrum. It was a miracle I could even aim properly.”
“You let your guard down.”
You glare at him. “I handled it.”
Gojo’s expression flattens. You stare at each other, thoughts sparking behind your eyes. If he’s thinks he’s about to scold you on your decision-making skills in front of other people, you’re going to kick him between the legs.
Gojo seems to understand the silent threat and reanimates himself. “O-kay!” He claps his hands and it disrupts the tension in the air like a gong. “Now that we’ve settled that, you should ask Nanamin to nominate you for a first grade promotion! Taking out a special grade curse is a pretty big deal.”
Nanami looks between you two. His expression is beyond uncomfortable. “Please leave me out of your lovers spat.”
Your skull nearly pops off your head.
“Pfffft!” Gojo giggles. “Nanamiii, you’re gonna make me shyyyy.”
You both give Gojo a deadpanned look.
Shoko’s office door cracks open and Yuji’s loud, excitable voice filters down the hall. You all assume vaguely casual looking positions—like you hadn’t just nearly squared up in the waiting room.
“Kanzaki,” Shoko drones. “M’not doing anymore overtime tonight. Move your ass.”
You silently bless Shoko’s timing.
Thank god for your burst eardrum.
Mem wakes you up by pawing at your face.
Your mind is somewhere else, digesting a kaleidoscope of random information from your dream, so you don't register what's happening at first. Not until Mem's god awful cat breath hits you in the nostrils.
You groan, rolling over onto your side with a flourish of the sheets. Mem tips backward with a disgruntled meow and starts climbing your back like a monkey. Her claws dig into your shoulder blades, her whole weight pressing down into your skin.
You let out a muffled groan and slowly sit up, blinking around the glare that’s shining under your blinds.
Mem trills at you and brushes her chin against your knee. You absentmindedly pet her as your eyes blink into focus. Your mind is heavier this morning. Your thoughts feel as though they're falling out of orbit. It takes you awhile to remember where you are and what you're doing; and why you feel so messed up.
Cursed energy. You used your cursed energy. Not the absorbed stuff. It explains the splintering effect. You sniffle, squinting your eyes around the room as the feeling settles into your chest. You'd almost forgotten how uncomfortable it was.
You scratch your cheek and then touch your ear. The dull ache you’d been dealing with last night is gone. Shoko had fixed you up as best she could and sent you on your way with a dropper and some weirdly specific supplements that you hadn’t asked for.
You have no idea where you put that note. You barely remember making it back to your flat. You’d just gone to bed and passed out.
You peel back the sheets and set your bare feet on the carpet. Pain tingles up your toes. You fumble your fingers along the wall when you stand up, flicking on the light switch and squinting under the blue glare as you waddle into the lounge room.
Mem weaves in and out of your legs, nearly tripping you a couple of times.
“Can you fuck off outta my feet?” You grumble. “You act like you’ve haven’t eaten in years.”
You crack open a can of wet food with your eyes half open. Mem starts whining, jumping at your knees and purring as you grab a spoon.
“Get away from the landing zone,” you tell her as you crouch down to scoop out her food. She doesn’t listen and squishes herself between your legs like a chicken.
You have your own breakfast in the dining hall, and when you're finished, you check your inbox for mission updates and are surprised to find it completely empty. The timing feels odd. Maybe HQ are testing the waters after last night. Whatever. It's your day off, and you know exactly how you want to spend it.
You saunter into the bathroom and crack open the tap above the bathtub drain, cranking it straight into blistering temps. You give it a quick clean and add some lavender oil and epsom salts to the water as it fills. When it's done, you strip off and dip your toes in. The water is definitely hot, but it's a good hot.
You sink into the water with a groan, tipping your head back until you're fully submerged. Your whole body trembles, fighting an invisible battle against your stiff muscles.
You focus on your breathing, calming your system down so the water and magnesium can do their jobs. The lavender makes you a little sleepy, and instead of fighting the feeling out of paranoia, you relax into it, letting the smell coaxes away the tension in your brow.
You close your eyes and let your thoughts drift as the water takes the brunt of your weight. After ten minutes, the pressure in your back finally gives, and you flip over onto your stomach to stretch out. A series of pops ripple through your body and the next breath you let out feels like it’s coming from your soul.
Your phone decides now is the perfect time to start pinging with messages. You’d set it aside incase you got a call from HQ, and now you're regretting being so practical. Your reach over the lip of the tub and fumble around for your phone with wet, wrinkly fingers.
When you unlock your screen, it’s not an email. It’s Gojo.
Gojo Satoru:
yo
u at ur dorm??
You stare at the messages.
leaving me on read?
u still mad about last night???
lololol
What do u want??
i asked
r u
at the
dorms
Yes?
cool
umma stop by rq
You panic.
NO!
DON’T DO THAT!
NOPEEEDIE
Gojo’s immediately starts typing back.
um
u ok?
You stare at the message. Is that….earnest?
I’m fine.
I’m just busy.
busy with what???
There’s a pause. He starts another message, then stops. You stare at your phone, waiting.
u getting off or sumthin?
You sigh and tap your forehead against the edge of the bathtub.
Ur an idiot.
i was joking lol
wait.
r u?
rn???
If I was, why would I be texting you???
:(
Gojo, I’m not masturbating.
I’m having a bath.
oh
is that all?
y were u so freaked out?
Because I'm naked and u want to come over.
He takes a little longer than usual to reply.
I’ve seen u naked
(brag)
whats the deal?
Just cause ur fine with it doesn’t mean I am.
fair enough
i can just drop this stuff off and leave
Ur really gonna just leave?
…
I thought so.
i bought you stuffwas gonna hand deliver it
cause im a gentlemen (^ω~)
Uhuh
What kinda stuff?
food
coffee
U got me coffee?
mhmm
ಇ( ꈍᴗꈍ)ಇ
im so nice
very thoughtful
right?
You find yourself smiling for some stupid, so you do something entirely stupid in return.
Fine.
Yayayayay!
(✿ ♥‿♥)(♥ω♥*)
You don’t get time to digest whatever the hell the emoticon means because there’s a loud, obnoxious BANG from your bedroom. It sounds like someone ran into a chair. Gojo, you realise. You hear a bunch of muffled cursing, and then the bathroom door opens.
Gojo walks in, a long paper cup of presumably coffee in his hand. He’s wearing an actual outfit instead of his uniform today. It's one of those casual streetwear looks; black sweatpants, a black hoody jacket, and a grey graphic tee.
“I put your food in the fridge," he says in greeting, looking around your bathroom like it's a conceptualised art piece. It's painfully obvious he's avoiding looking at you, which is surprising. It's not like he's shown any deference to your sensibilities in the past.
You scoff. “Hi.”
Gojo glances down at you, the ring of icy blue behind his glasses narrowed. "Mem ran into the kitchen when she saw me. She was not impressed." He's trying to be casual, but the way he's looking at you is anything but.
You watch his throat bob, his fingers tapping a random rhythm against his cup. He's nervous. A tiny shiver runs up your spine. Gojo Satoru, out of his element in front a naked woman?
All the insecurities you'd silently battled last time round void in your mind. You decided against shaving, knowing if you did it now it would mean something different.
“You look comfy,” Gojo hums, putting his coffee cup on the vanity and plopping himself down on the side of the tub. “Is that lavender?” He closes his eyes for a second, inhaling. “Ooo. That smells really good. Maybe I should have a bath."
"I doubt you'd fit," you reply, keeping your eyes evenly on his face. “If that’s what you’re really asking.”
Gojo's lips tremble, breaking out into a weird smile. "—why are you having a bath anyway? Y’know they barely clean these dorms. This place is probably crawling with brain-eating amoebas."
“I don’t have much of a choice in that,” you remind. “My back has been killing me.”
Gojo frowns. "Did having sex make it worse?"
"You tell me, genius."
He makes a face. "Why'd you let me fuck you if it was this bad?"
“Maybe because I wanted you to?”
Your answer surprises him enough to silence him. He turns, fidgeting with his hair. You swear the tips of his ears go a little red.
“You coulda said something...”
"I was nervous," you shrug, and it creates a wave down your body that Gojo devours with his eyes.
“Nervous?”
“I mean, yeah. I’ve known you since I was fifteen. Having sex is kinda a big leap, don’t you think?”
“Not really,” he smacks his lip. “You’re hot. I’m hot. That equals hot sex.”
You roll your eyes.
“And just to be clear—you enjoyed it?”
“Unfortunately.”
Gojo pouts. “Why are you making out like it’s a bad thing?”
“It is a bad thing. Fucking a coworker tends to end badly.”
Gojo leans down and runs his finger along your arm. “We were classmates first.”
“We weren’t fucking in school.”
He sighs. “Yeah…”
Gojo's finger trails down your bicep, circling the harsh, lifted skin of the scar near your elbow.
“Can I eat you out?”
Your stomach drops. “Huh?”
“Eat. You. Out. Go down on you. Lick your—“
“Yes. I know, fuck. I just—that was sudden.”
“Not for me,” he says. “I’ve been thinkin’ about it since we fucked.”
You give him a look. “You’ve been thinking about eating pussy for two days?”
“Eating your pussy,” he corrects.
You eye him over. The immediate response in your head is a 'hell fucking yes please!' But you don’t want to look like an overly eager whelp.
“She’s thinking about it,” he sings. “Thinking. Thinking, thinking, thinkingggg.”
“Okay,” you puff out. It's not like you've fantasied about this moment for years.
You grip the sides of the tub to pull you up. Your back twinges with pain and you twist your hips, trying to find a spot to rest where it doesn’t hurt.
“Lemme help.”
You glance a look at him over the bump of muscle on your bicep. “What?”
“Let me help you up,” he makes a grabby hands motion.
“Um…” your throat tightens. “That’s not a good idea.”
Gojo sighs dramatically. “I’ll look away.”
“How?"
“I dunno. I’ll—“
“It’s okay,” you swallow. “It’s fine.”
You brave it and rise from the bath water, letting it rush over your body in a collapsing wave. You’re left quietly dripping, rivulets of water swirling down your legs and arms. Gojo inhales quickly as you reach out to wrap your fingers around his arms.
You get his jacket wet, and hesitate to hold him tighter, knowing it probably cost a ridiculous amount of money. Gojo doesn’t say anything though, he just continues to hold his arms out like he’s been sterilised for surgery.
“Okay,” you murmur. “I’ll step down with my left, yeah?” You glance down and nearly choke on your own spit when you see the bulge in Gojo's pants.
“Ignore that,” he mutters.
“That’s a hard ask.”
“I’d rather we keep away from those kinds of words.”
You let out a huff. “Would you have preferred a big ask?”
“Does that mean you think my dicks big?”
“Ohh yeah, suuuper big.”
He narrows his eyes at you suspiciously. “I don’t like when you do that.”
“Do what?”
“Tell me—“ Gojo steps forward and curls his arms around your waist. “What I wanna hear—” he lifts you out of the bathtub and pulls you to his chest.
You squawk, your arms wrapping around his shoulders to steady yourself. “G-Gojo, I’m getting you wet!”
“Mm, say it again, baby, I’m close.”
A rumble of laughter slips from you and you muffle it into Gojo’s neck. This situation is already ridiculous, your naked body being pressed up against him seems par for the course.
Gojo carries you out into your bedroom, whipping two towels off the rack as he walks by. He tosses his glasses onto the couch, and then lays out one of the towels on your bed and then gently sits you down on top of it.
You stare at him, your wet hair pooling at your neck, wondering where he's going with this. You’re dripping wet and he’s completely dry. Touching is going to get complicated.
Gojo trails your body, following the lines of water trickling from the split ends of your hair. They run down the sides of your breasts, prickling your nipples to attention. His nostrils flare at the sight. You watch him fight with the muscles in his face for a moment before his expression levels.
His appraisal isn’t as nerve-wracking this time round. It doesn’t feel like he’s committing your imperfections to memory.
Gojo pops the collar on his jacket and peels the wet fabric off his shoulders, his eyes never leaving your body. Warmth burns up the back of your neck, and you shift your hips, trying to find a comfortable spot on the towel as your wetness starts to leak out of you.
“Is your back gonna be okay?”
You blink, not expecting the question. “I…um-“ you feel a little unravelled. “A-Are we still talking about giving me head right now?”
Gojo laughs at you. Your instant reaction is anger—but it’s snuffed out in a millisecond when he leans down, kissing you full on the mouth. You hesitantly kiss back, pressing your palms into the sheets to keep your balance.
“Yes,” he hums, giving your cheek a wet kiss. “M’still eating you out. I just wondered if you wanted a different position.”
You flush at the consideration. “I’ll be f-fine.”
Gojo hums, not looking convinced. He leans over your body and grabs a pillow from behind you.
You swallow thickly as you watch him position it front of him, fluffing it up. “This is better, yeah?”
You stare at it. From that position your hips will be at eye level with his face. You’ve never had someone eat you out like that before.
“That’s…okay.”
He quirks an eyebrow. “Say it like you mean it.”
“Sorry—that’s good. M’just, my brain is stalling.”
He laughs, looking utterly charmed by your stupid babbles. You shimmy down the bed and awkwardly hook your hips over the pillow, planting your backside down onto it. You have to prop yourself up on your elbows to see Gojo properly, and looking at him through the gape of your thighs does torturous things to you.
Apparently it has the same effect on him.
Gojo’s pupils ring to black and he smoothes his hands up your wet knees, petting you. “Shit, that's hot—I didn’t think—“ he presses his lips into the side of your knee, like he’s trying to shut himself up. The feeling makes you shudder, and you clamp down on your jaw to stop yourself from saying something stupid.
"I gotta get you dry first," he mumbles.
"Never heard that line before," you say, feeling a little silly as soon as it leaves your mouth.
You hear him let out a half-hearted snort.
He reaches forward and pulls you by the ankles, straightening your legs out. You watch, your lungs rattling around a breath as he runs the other towel up your legs, dragging the fluffy fabric with calculated slowness against your skin. It's a touch without touching. A drawn out tease that makes the heat in your body rise to near uncomfortable heights. Your walls start to flex, fluttering in time with your racing pulse.
He gets to the apex of your thighs, his pupils spasming as he takes in your wet cunt. You swallow around what feels like sandpaper, and then nearly die when he completely ignores your pussy, lathing the towel over your torso and up your chest. He gives your tits a squeeze through the towel as he drys your chest, and you rumble out a groan, unintentionally baring your neck to him.
He plants his mouth over your throat, kissing the scar line with an unexpected gentleness.
You squirm beneath him. “You’re being mean.”
“M’not doing anything yet.”
You feel the dip in the mattress as he kneels over your body. You sink back instinctively, your proprioception reacting to his closeness. He lets a breathy sound, something between a sigh and a groan, and dips his head to kiss your collarbone, lathing his tongue over it. You realise somewhere in the fogginess of your own lust that Gojo likes kissing you; maybe even gets off on it.
His lips trail down your torso, pressing icy-hot kisses to your skin. He glances over one of your ribs and the feeling makes your stomach tighten, flexing up against him until your tits brush his chest.
Gojo shivers above you. His kisses grow wetter as they move down your hips, like he's salivating at the thought of all this. Your heart rate kicks into overdrive, and his hands, which had turned idle, slide the towel down your leg, pushing your knees further apart to dry the underside of your thighs. You shiver, curling your fingers into your palms to dull the tremor that's vibrating through your extremities.
Gojo mumbles something between your legs and then all at once you feel the gentle press of his tongue parting your cunt. You inhale sharply through your nose. It's a featherlight touch, but it sends your mind spiralling, a rush of heat burning to the edges of your skin.
He drags his tongue slowly up your folds, like he's taste testing you, before his lips settle over your clit and he slobbers a hot, open mouthed kiss against you.
“Oh my god,” you groan, tipping your head back as pleasure rockets up your thighs.
Gojo pulls back, laving his tongue over you. “Fuck, I’ve been thinkin’ about this forever."
You don’t remember the ‘forever’ part either, but you’re a little preoccupied with his mouth to mention it.
“Want you to cum in my mouth,” Gojo mumbles, kissing your clit. “—wanna feel it. Taste it.”
He kisses you again, petting his fingers down the sticky skin of your vulva and then using them to spread you open on his tongue. You keen against him, a desperate whine crawling out of your throat. He drags his tongue down to your entrance, dipping the tip inside and curling it in a way that has your hips lifting off the pillow.
Gojo has the presence of mind to gently work you back down, keeping his tongue perfectly still inside you, teasing you. Your voice warbles at the feeling, white hot pleasure fizzling into your veins. He double downs, rocking his chin into your cunt and fucking his tongue deeper. His nose bumps your clit and your hips nearly hyperextend as you arch off the bed.
Gojo muffles a whine into your pussy, chasing it back down into the sheets and riding against the roll of your hips. You can't control the tremor that runs through you, vibrating every working muscle in your legs until your shifting back off the pillow.
He grabs onto your thighs, digging his fingers into the meat of them to keep you still. Your voice is barely working enough to apologise, but you try, puttering out bits and pieces of a word between gasps.
Gojo isn't listening. Or he doesn't care. He's eating you out like his life depends on it.
"-so good," he mumbles against you. "s'wet f'me, hm?"
Your moan sounds almost romantic in response and you have no idea what to do with it. Gojo seems happy about it, and one of his hands curls around your ankle, absentmindedly massaging it as he fucks you with his tongue. He finds a spot inside you, and badgers it over and over until you're peaking, your hips wiggling from side to side as the pleasure voids your mind.
Fire is creeping into your veins, building to near explosive heights. Gojo lets out a shaky sound when he realises you're close, planting his lips over your clit and sucking it into his mouth like a lollypop.
You cry out, your fingers tighten in the sheets to the point where you feel a cramp building in your palm, but there's nowhere to go.
"Fuu-ck!"
Your legs clamp down on Gojo's head as you cum. Gojo shudders against you, holding onto your hips, teasing your clit, bleeding out your orgasm. You're wracked with tremors, fighting to breathe as you grind against his face, working yourself through the jerks and spasms until only fizzling sparks are left.
Gojo keeps you steady as you deflate into the sheets, your heart pounding between your ears. He soothes his hands over the curve of your thighs, spreading sloppy kisses over the fluttering folds of your pussy.
“Sweet girl,” he coos, giving your clit and a long, slobbery kiss. “So pretty when you cum.”
You twist your head to the side and whine. You’re brain is spinning, trying to come to terms with the mind-blowing orgasm Gojo just gifted you. Too many compliments.
Gojo strokes the wet, sticky hair of your mound and then leans over to kiss your hipbone.
“Y’must be really wound up, huh?”
You laugh breathlessly, because that's exactly what you are. Without even thinking you reach down to run your fingers through Gojo’s hair, appreciatively combing his scalp. You still can’t see his face from this angle, but you hope the head scratch can convey what your brain is struggling to articulate.
Gojo’s neck stiffens under your touch, like your fingertips are freezing. You’re about to question him when he leans back down and sucks your throbbing clit into his mouth.
“Go—jo!” The overstimulation makes you buck your hips and Gojo rides against them, curling his arms over your waist to pin you to the bed. It feels like he's licking an exposed nerve, but as the overstimulation curls deeper in your gut it turns into something else. It digs into your navel, burning so hot it feels like it’s liquefying your bones.
“Oh my go—d!" You grip his hair with both hands and grind up against him.
An anxious part of you is telling you to stop—that you’re being to handsy, going too far— but the rest of you is cresting another high; and this one is sweeter and denser than anything you’ve experienced before, building like a supernova from your hips.
Your fingers tighten in his hair, scratching your nails into his scalp, and you watch his hips bend into the bed.You buck into him, chasing the feeling higher and higher, and Gojo groans into your pussy, pulling your hips flush against his face, desperately kissing your clit.
“You’re gonna make m’cum,” you mumble, your arms shaking.
He holds your hips tighter and nuzzles his tongue against the hood of your clit. You rock against him, finding a rhythm that has you genuinely gasping. It barely takes you a minute to cum, and then you’re seeing stars, groaning into your teeth and arching against his mouth.
Gojo muffles a sound into your cunt, and suddenly he pulls away, breathing heavy. Your eyes glue to his face. To his red, glistening lips, covered in your cum; and his wild, nearly blackened eyes. He frantically pulls down his pants and grabs his dick, stroking it quickly.
“Fuck fuck fuck—“ his face tightens and he bites his lip, leaning forward to spurt his cum all over your stomach. “Ohhh f-fuck, yesyesyes—“ he tips his head back and shudders out a gasp, his throat bobbing as he shakily thrusts into his hand, milking his orgasm until it completely tapers off.
“I was holdin' that off for as long as could,” he breathes, the tiny slip of muscle beneath his shirt tightening as he lets go of his cock.
You notice he’s shaking a little as he pulls pants and underwear back up his hips. He leans off the bed and grabs the towel off the floor, using it to wipe the cum off your stomach and thighs. He's got this strange little smile on his face as he does it. It takes you a moment to register the emotion. Triumph.
He collapses down beside you, putting his head on the remaining pillow. “I'm beat."
You turn to look at him, admiring his flushed face. The redness of his cheeks. His swollen lips. The way his eyelashes press against his cheeks like tiny, beautiful stalactites. You’d missed out on seeing this side of him last time, and it doesn’t disappoint.
You slowly shift the pillow out from beneath your hips. Your back is a little stiff, but it doesn’t hurt.
“No pain?” Gojo asks.
You shake your head, a crease forming between your eyebrows.
“What?" He asks through a yawn. "Has no one tried making you comfortable before?”
You shuffle back to lay down beside him on the bed. “Not really.”
“I’m guessing there’s a story there?”
“It’s not an interesting one.”
Gojo rolls onto his side, wiggling up the bed until his feet aren’t hanging off the end. He grabs the pillow behind him fluffs it up before sticking it under his elbow. Then he stares at you intently, waiting for you to start whatever fantastical tale he’s cooked up in his head.
You sigh. You guess it’s not anything outrageously embarrassing. “When I was on Oxy,” you start. “I ended up at a lot of shitty parties. Everyone was using, and people get horny when they're high, so...I dunno, I messed around a lot."
He turns onto his side, hugging the pillow to his chest. “Judging from the look on your face, it wasn't good?"
You shrug. “I didn't really care at the time. It was just a means to an end."
Gojo frowns.
You stare at each other from either side of the bed, not saying a thing.
“Okay,” prop yourself up on an elbow, facing him. “Since you opened up that rabbit hole, I have a question. Why did you decide today of all days to text me?"
He makes a face. “Can I chose a different question?”
“No.”
You wait for him to dig the hole deeper, but he relents. “I thought you wanted space," he says evenly. "I figured you were mad about somethin', and I knew asking about it would've gotten me decked, so I just left it. S'not a big deal, yeah?"
Your jaw clenches. "Mhm."
Gojo tilts his cheek. "Ooo. You didn't like that answer, huh?"
You shift your eyes down to his, and he blinks slowly, absorbing your expression with glowing interest.
He leans into your face, breathing over your lips. "You're kinda terrifying, y'know that?"
You arch your chin up and bump it into his lips, defiant against his attempts to charm you. "So terrifying you had to bring me coffee and food as a peace offering?"
"Pretty much," he hums. "You're like an old, curmudgeony dragon."
Your eye twitches. First Frankenstein, now what? The Hobbit? “So what? You wanna fuck, but you also wanna give me space?"
Gojo’s eyes drag down your body, lingering between your legs. “Hm?”
You pinch his ear. “Focus.”
He wrinkles his nose. “I didn’t realise we’d be having this conversation while you were naked.”
“Really? You didn’t think I’d mention it?”
He lets out a sigh. “I mean—I anticipated it, but 'Zaki, you don't realise how hot and cold you are in conversation. Makes it kinda impossible to talk to you sometimes."
"And you thought ignoring me would make that better?"
He raises an eyebrow. "If you wanna take it that way, sure."
"Sure...?"
Gojo groans. "You're overcomplicating the fuck outta this. I meant it when I said I don’t fuck and dump. We can hook-up, hang out, whatever. I like your company and I know you like mine."
“That a fact?”
“If I’d really pissed you off, you wouldn’t have let me see you naked a second time.”
“And the first?”
“I was willing to call that a one-off. A Matrix glitch.”
Your eyes rove over him, looking for a crack in his explanation. His expression doesn’t give much away.
His offer is…okay. Maybe? You’re not sure.
It’s probably a terrible idea. There’s a reason why attachments are off the table. Anyone who gets close enough to care about your wellbeing is befriending a tombstone. Feelings are going to get hurt. It’s better if you keep it to your side of the fence.
But a part of you is screaming to not let it die. He's offering you a piece of something you never thought you'd ever be able to have. Your decisions have felt so weighted in the past couple years. Everything has become so practical and exacting. Think about death. Think about life. No romance. No whimsy.
As the story goes, you’ll die. Gojo will live. He’ll probably settle down with someone in his clan. An arranged affair. You’ll just be a memory. A what if.
Your feelings have twisted and softened on the matter. You’re not puppeteered by their intensity. You can quietly—or maybe not so quietly—love him at this distance.
And this seems like an okay middleground.
“I'm okay with that,” you say, your voice a little croaky.
Gojo shoots you a lazy smile. "It was my head game that tided you over, huh?"
"You are annoyingly good at it."
Gojo reaches over and smacks your hip playfully as he gets up. You watch him slink off your bed, feeling a little hollow and not knowing what to do with it. Gojo cracks open the door to your tiny lounge area and comes back with a bunch of containers. He plops down on your couch and cracks open one of the containers.
The air between you feels strangely charged despite the fact you'd reached an agreement.
“M’gonna go shower,” you tell him.
Gojo sends you a thumbs up through a mouthful of noodles. You shake your head. How he can go from eating pussy to innocently chowing down on ramen, you have no idea.
You quickly go through your shower routine. When you're done, you step down onto your bathmat and find a completely different outfit to the one you laid out folded out on your vanity counter.
“Gojo!”
You hear him cackle through the door.
Where the hell did he even get these clothes?
And how had you not noticed him sneaking into the bathroom?
You hesitantly get dressed. The fit is surprisingly cute. You notice Gojo stuck to muted colours with his purchases. Black and grey with a couple of dark green accents. The shorts have inbuilt three quarter length leggings, and the t-shirt goes down to your elbows. They cover your scars perfectly. It makes your heart twist.
The only thing that has Gojo written all over it is the hoody. It’s a bright, nearly blinding white with a soft blue outline and a big graphic picture of Cinnamoroll on the front. There’s little drawn out bunny ears on the back of the hood as well.
You open your door and hold it out to him. “Really?”
He tilts his head back over the couch to look at you, a clump of noodles hanging out of his mouth. He slurps them up with a grin when he sees it. “Cute right?”
You glare at him. “Of course it’s cute, it’s fucking Hello Kitty. That is not the point I’m making.”
“Everything else fits good, yeah?”
“You—“ you stop yourself and take a deep breath. “Everything fits fine.”
Gojo laughs. “You look great!” He sends you another thumbs up, like he’s cheering you on at an arcade game, and not commenting on your appearance.
Your eyebrow spasms. Instead of arguing with him again, you plop down onto the couch beside him and take what you assume is your bowl of ramen. You're about to crack it open when you notice a tall cardboard bag sitting by the table. You squint at it curiously and then turn to look at Gojo.
He's still slurping on noodles. "Gift." He says, like it's obvious.
You reach over and grab the silk ties that act as handles. Inside the bag is a bunch of clothes folded up in a beautiful piece of tissue paper.
“Gojo…” you warn, looking at the labels. This stuff is worth nearly ten times your paycheque. You can’t possibly hope to pay him back.
“You said you needed work-out stuff.”
"I said I didn't have any. Not that I needed some."
"Same-same."
“I can’t accept half of this stuff,” you say.
“Why’not?”
“It looks bad.”
“Actually, it looks really good.”
You shoot him a look. “Buying me stuff looks bad.”
“What?” He slurps up some more broth. “—like I’m spoilin’ you?”
“That’s something a partner would do. If people think we’re dating, that will cause issues with your clan.”
He shrugs. “I dont care.”
You sigh. “Of course you don’t, but I’m not really fond of pissing off major jujutsu clans.”
“You’re too practical for your own good,” he grumbles.
"You should be glad I'm practical. I could've taken these gifts the wrong way too, y'know?"
Gojo glowers. “It’s a stupid hypothetical. There’s no way in hell my clan would think m’dating you, regardless of how much money I spend,” he takes a big bite of some pork belly. “M’the clan head for a reason.”
You ignore the dig. "Do you often spend hundreds of thousands of yen on women's clothes?"
“You uprooted your life to come here, you deserve some luxuries," he says, taking a big sip of broth straight from the bowl.
You snort. “Luxuries? Like getting my back blown out?”
Gojo face bulges with shock and broth shoots out of his nose like a bullet, splattering back into his bowl. He starts coughing hard, his entire face turning red as he fumbles for a serviette.
You can’t help it. You start laughing at him.
Gojo shoots you a hurt look, hacking up what sounds like his entire stomach into a napkin.
It reminds you of something that happened when you were teenagers.
Your laughter feels a little freer after that thought.