Chapter Text
·༻𐫱༺·
Recommended song: Tears by Sabrina Carpenter.
The morning light shines brightly through the paper thin, cotton curtains of the dorm room. The sound of birds chirping is to be expected, but only the feeling of emptiness by his side catches his senses. Satoru Gojo, a senior in university. He's hot, attractive, (same thing but that’s all he thinks about himself), and extremely funny (he also just thinks that about himself) satoru slowly leans his torso upwards, a whimper of restraint fishing out from his lips as the feels the muscles of his shoulders tighten in debate. He swings his legs over the side of the bed, and gets up, running his hand through his hair before pausing as the faint smell of definitely burnt toast assaults his nostrils. Gojo quickly begins to stand up, only for a sharp pain to shoot through his tail bone, his mouth wracks out a moan of pain and he falls to the cheap wooden tiles he had desperately tried to carpet when he first moved in (he gave up). His body hits the floor with a thud, the feeling of something warm and foreign dripping down his thighs like tears. He goes to check before the door suddenly swings open, burnt toast pathetically flying through the door before a plastic plate comes along with it. The door creaks open wider and wider before revealing a masculine figure wearing only grey sweats, doing no work to hide the thick member dangling limply between the man’s thighs as he falls to his knees and quickly starts cleaning the mess he accidentally made.
”Damnit…” The man says, his brows furrowing as he bites the inside of his cheek. Confusion and fatigue flowing through Satoru’s body as he stares at him in bewilderment, wondering who this strange, strange man was.
”I heard you fall and I quickly ran over here” The man runs a hand through his silky, black locks. His lips pursing. “Fuck, I’m so sorry, I should have put the toast down.” He grumbles, before brushing his hair out of his face, revealing his features.
”Suguru?” Satoru breaths through his mouth, realisation washing over his features, his eyes trail over the man’s back as he turns to close the thin wooden door, his mouth suddenly feeling dry as he sees the gnarly scratches dragging down his forearms and spine, along with bite marks peppered along his tan shoulders. The Reminders of the previous night hit him like a truck, memories of the passionate encounter flashing through him.
”Shit…”
18 hours earlier (the day before)
~ ⋆˚˖*˖ ⏱︎ ˖*˖˚⋆【┘】⋆˚˖*˖ ⏱︎ ˖*˖˚⋆ ~
The loud rustling of paper and the clattering of cheap multi coloured pens fill Satoru’s ears, his own ball point pen rubbing against the rough paper as he absentmindlessly scribbles pathetic doodles on the side of his work that was due to be in the film professors hands in two weeks. Satoru looks to the side, his blue eyes filled with exhaustion as he feels an irritated breath against his neck. “What is it now, Nanami?” he groans, stretching his back as he flops over the side of the cheap, plastic chair, the arm rests groaning in protest. Pulling an offended look from the young adult's sleepy blue eyes.
“Satoru,” his long time friend Nanami clears his throat, looking to the side to glance at the other men slouching near them, as if awaiting for something that could be turned into easy gossip to spill from his chapped lips. They weren't even in the group, just nosy shit heads trying to not make it obvious they were eavesdropping on the attractive pair in the library.
“There's a new guy, I’m planning on inviting him in the group since he doesn't have anyone to do the project with, it will be great for our summarizing and group work.”
Satoru raises his white brow, his lips slightly puffing out in a pout of stubbornness “Why? We already have you and Yuki.” He huffs, running a hand through his hair. As he looks around for the woman that was absent yet again. “Careless bitch..’ He mumbles through his teeth.
“That's the thing Satoru, we need more people. This was originally a 4 person task, it's not my fault nobody wants to work with you.” Nanami retorts harshly. His hand comes to grab the back of his chair and nudge it aggressively, Satoru sits up straight in response “And I think you would get along with him, he's great with the ladies. Who knows, maybe you have a competition now.”
Nanami's words bounce through his head, the words “good with the ladies” instantly catching his attention. Satoru scowls, swallowing hard. “Good with the ladies? Don't be ridiculous.” He stops scribbling on his paper, his expression turning serious, like a confident knight entering the battlefield. “The only one here that's good with the ladies is me, I don't care if they don't satisfy me, I have to be the best” He barks.
“As per usual..” Nanami mumbles, rolling his eyes as he spoke. “Then how about you show him you're better than him by getting this work done?” Nanami slaps his palm against the paper, dragging it against the old wood of the table in the library.
“Don’t be ridiculous, as if brains are better than looks.” Satoru twirls a strand of hair around his slim finger absentmindedly, suddenly remembering he has gum in his mouth as he chews obnoxiously, still remaining to appear somewhat attractive. If someone lacking in looks did that, they would be made fun of for the rest of the year. “I need to beat him. I need to get more attention from the women to drive them away from him. He's probably ugly anyway.” A snarky giggle stabs through the subtle silence of the university's library.
Nanami looks to the side, his jaw tightening slightly as he adjusts his collar, shooting the peering eyes and listening ears a look before looking back down. “About that, Satoru–”, The man suddenly pauses, the once appropriate atmosphere now tense with hidden words. His mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water, as if he was fighting back to say something reckless. “He's a competition, that's all I have to say.”
⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹
The door of the Satoru's dorm slams shut, the sound cutting through the air like a bullet in the usually relaxing room. Satoru huffs, his white, rain-soaked shirt clinging to his lean muscular body, his footsteps pad on the wooden floor. The cold water making his feet wet and slippery as he waddles over to his bed in exhaustion, rubbing his eyes and groaning loudly, slapping his hand across his stomach like a seal as the comforting feeling of cotton bedsheets and covers engulf his sore frame. He lays there for a minute, contemplating something internally before grabbing his surprisingly healthy phone out of the soaked pocket of his thin jeans. His thumb swipes across the screen, bringing him to twitter and he sniffles, feeling a cold settling in already. “Fuck, I’m a grown man with a beautiful body, who wouldn’t want this?” He snaps slightly at his phone, as if it was listening to him. Suddenly, his eyes are drawn to a certain tweet.
The tweet was obviously written by some insecure man, but to Satoru, this was absolute gold.
His brows furrow, creasing slightly as his tired eyes run across the screen, reading the tweet. The post was complaining with a stereotypical take, stating; “Gay men always get closer to women, what's so special about them?” along with some slurs that the tweeter definitely couldn't reclaim. It was ridiculous, but yet again, this was apparently gold for Satoru Gojo. “Gay men..’ he bites his bottom lip, thinking. Before clicking into the comment section. His hand fiddles with the hair peeking out from his sweats. The comments of course, were either filled with protest from actual mature twitter users or middle aged deadbeat men agreeing with this ridiculous take. Who in the world would take this seriously?
Satoru Gojo Apparently.
Suddenly, a ridiculously loud notification rings out from his iPhone, his thumb swipes across the screen, tapping into it as it brings him to a bright screen. Satoru grunts, squinting his eyes slightly as his pupils flow over the text.
It was a message from his friends in the ‘epic’ group chat they owned. Called “Back of the van”, guess who came up with that name. Of course, Gojo.
He scrolls down to the messages, his lips forming into a thin line as he reads the messages.
👤 Sukuna has been added to The Back Of The Van
(👤) 04-XXX-XXX
<[yo, what's up?]
(👤)Getou❤️
<[who is this?]
(👤)Nanami
<[This is Sukuna, he recently moved here. He is going to be part of the group project me and Satoru are currently in, I added him today for familiarity before going on with the film project.]
Satoru scowls, his nose scrunching as he scoffs at his screen “long and stoic…” he spat, before typing out a reply on the keyboard.
(👤)Satoru😎
<[why didn’t I hear about this first?😡😡😡😡]
A couple of seconds pass by, Satoru’s breath turns slightly heavy, his teeth catching his bottom lip as he rocks his foot slightly, his ankle twisting and the sheets ruffling with his restless movements of barely contained agitation.
3 dots start to form at the bottom left screen beneath Nanami's profile, before sprouting into a stoic yet also somewhat snarky comment.
(👤)Nanami
<[I told you.]
Satoru huffs, holding himself back from throwing his phone across the room, he was a grown adult after all. His hands run across his now slightly pink face, trying to calm himself down before looking up at the ticking clock on the side of his desk.
6:23PM Sat
Satoru quickly grabs his phone, grumbling slightly as newfound excitement blooms in his chest, seeing a door open to the big plan ahead of him. A party, because of course, how else could Satoru pick up girls?
(👤)Satoru😎
<[Let me meet the guy first. Party at my place tonight spread the word]
(👤) Sukuna
<[👍😃]
(👤) getou❤️
<[👍🖤😎]
(👤) Nanami
<[Okay.]
°‧ 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 ·｡
Recommended song: Goodluck, babe! By Chappell Roan.
The party roars in excitement, the room filled with the light of cheap LED's from target, the music bounces off the walls rhythmically with the people around and inside of it. People are standing together, many off to the side in groups and clumped together in the middle.
Satoru stands there, alone, a lump in his throat as his nerves tingle in excitement, he's wearing a simple jersey and jeans, dry ones this time, he's standing there with a red solo cup in his hand as he leans against the wall, running a hand through his hair as he looks around, searching for the familiar figures of his friends.
Off in the distance, there’s a silhouette standing in the corner of the room, they’re wearing a black band tee, black jeans that hug their legs perfectly, and a long black undershirt that was slightly worn along with the ‘get scared’ band shirt. His hair was down, long black silky locks framing the man’s face.
Satoru’s face splits into a grin, a sparkle in his eyes as he realizes who it is, familiar warmth spreads in his chest as he strides over to him, his height a stark contrast towards the other dancing party goers. “Suguru Geto! My gosh, how long has it been!?” He yells over the noise of the party. He pauses for a moment, his eyes trailing over Suguru's appearance, his eyes locking on his piercings just like they always do.
Suguru smiles, his dimples forming as he grins just as wide, though slightly more controlled. His hoarse voice rocks through the atmosphere as he wets his lips, Satoru’s eyes not missing the slightest. “Satoru, it’s only been two days.” Suguru grabs his lanky yet also muscular arm, pulling Satoru’s form towards his own and refilling his drink for him.
Satoru smirks, his eyes not leaving his face “Still—“
In an instant, reality swoops back in as Satoru’s eyes flick over to some women nearby with matching half up half down hairstyles, his mouth goes dry.
“Satoru.”
“Yes?”
Getou smiles softly, though there’s something else in his eyes, he nods towards Nanami and an unfamiliar figure walking over, solo cups in their hands as one of them waves over.
“Ah, if it isn’t Nanami!” Satoru beams before pausing as he looks at the man next to him “and…”
“Sukuna.” He grunts. He was towering over Satoru, even if it was just 2 more inches, like some sort of divine being. If this was an alternate universe where fantasy was real, this man would definitely be feared.
Sukuna was wearing a red loose shirt that was a little tight over the expanse of his shoulders. Across the red fabric, black patterns were scattered out onto it, forming a dragon across the right side of his torso and up across his chest, and His black sweats additionally matched perfectly with the shirt.
He doesn’t bother to shake his hand, he just pats him on his clothed shoulder, as if he didn’t even want Satoru to be here “You are Gojo?” He hums, smirking smugly as he looks at him, before pausing as he eyes Suguru, his eyes trailing over his body and piercings, his posture becoming more defined.
“Is there a problem, Sukuna?” Satoru tilts his head, spitting his name out as if it was poison. His eyes darken slightly, obviously he was going to be protective over Suguru, he was his life long friend after all?
“Nothing.” Sukuna suddenly smiles, though it looks faker than a guilty lie a criminal would make. “I heard you’re… qualified in your reputation.” His eyes crinkle slightly with his stiff smile, Satoru pretends he doesn’t see right through it.
“Yes, yes I am. I’m glad to have you be a part of my team, but right now, we are here to have fun. Are we not? No need to be so formal!” Satoru smiles, patting the man on his back, ignoring the new song starting to play before his eyes travel over to the crowd of people, as he slowly relaxes against the wall next to Suguru.
“Group project?” Suguru questions, before smirking “You never liked those when we were kids” he smiles softly, a warm laugh singing through his throat. He leans closer, sipping at his drink. “It's good to be here, Satoru.”
“I know,” Satoru groans, placing his cup on a nearby table, chewing slightly at the inside of his cheek absentmindedly. Satoru swings an arm over his shoulder lazily, his head bobbing slightly with the music absentmindedly. Mouthing along to the lyrics subtly. He always did that, it was something Suguru loved about him.
“You’re doing it again, Satoru” he chuckles, nudging his elbow into his side playfully. He sighs and relaxes against him, tilting his head questionably “Why didn't you pick music as your major?”
“I could say the same thing about you” Satoru replies as he smirks at his friend in front of him, poking at his band tee before tickling his sides playfully. He smiles, for once today Satoru actually smiles properly. He’s had so much to do recently, he just wants to be near Suguru for the rest of the day, it makes him calm.
Suguru laughs, his voice slightly racing in pitch at the poke on his waist, the apples of his cheeks blooming a pretty red, before he slowly calms down, a comfortable vocal silence washing over them, one they have gotten used to throughout their long journeys and friendship.
Satoru's eyes get lost in the dancing crowd, roaming around the numerous dancing and grinding bodies, before perceiving something that makes his breath hitch.
2 men.
They were good looking, he’d give them that. But that wasn’t what caught his attention. It was the fact that they were flirting and touching each other on the waist subtly as they talked.
Satoru shudders, watching as the slightly shorter man dips his hand down to rest his palm above the other man's backside, right on his tail bone. He watches as their hips slightly press against each other, solo cups in their left hands as their right holds each other in a carefree embrace, one of them laughing at something the other said.
Suguru glances at Gojo, confused at his serious expression, as if he was fighting with his own thoughts.
ᯓ♪𝓘𝓽'𝓼 𝓯𝓲𝓷𝓮, 𝓲𝓽'𝓼 𝓬𝓸𝓸𝓵
𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓬𝓪𝓷 𝓼𝓪𝔂 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝔀𝓮 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝓷𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰, 𝓫𝓾𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓽𝓻𝓾𝓽𝓱
𝓐𝓷𝓭 𝓰𝓾𝓮𝓼𝓼 𝓘'𝓶 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓯𝓸𝓸𝓵. ᯓ♪
Suguru raises a brow, his heart clenching in concern as his lips part in a silent question. Slowly, his eyes follow his friends, running across the room before landing on the source. His eyes widen, his cheeks slightly dusting pink before he smiles softly, feeling a sense of familiarity.
He looks back at Satoru, his smile wavering as he sees his expression unmoving, he quickly tries to lighten the mood, clearing his throat before stepping closer and putting a hand on his shoulder, earning a violent flinch from Satoru.
Satoru whips his head around, barking slightly “What?” He snaps, his stomach churning with annoyance. Noticing his disrespect, he quickly clears his throat and steps closer while softening his posture as a quick and silent apology, getou frowns.
“What’s wrong, why are you upset? Are you disturbed, Satoru?”
The words ring through his ears, rendering him still for a moment before laughing stiffly “Disturbed? Oh please, it’s just some…” he pauses, looking back as Getou, his teeth catch his bottom lip slightly, about to say something, before swallowing it down like bile “People kissing” he scoffs, spitting the words out as if he didn't even want to register what was going on.
“I don’t see you looking at straight couples like that, Satoru.” Getou retorts, his gaze slowly sharpening. Doubt and concern starts to eat away at Suguru’s chest. Suddenly, a flicker of warmth forms in Satoru's eyes, as if he remembered something. The look in his eyes disappeared as quick as it appeared, his pupils slightly dilated and sparkling beautifully in the led light. He gently places a hand on Satoru's shoulder, fishing for his attention. “Is every thing alri–”
Satoru flinches violently and pushes Suguru off him, sending him into some people behind him, guilt eats at his chest, air punching out from his lungs as if he was the one that was pushed. He stutters, falling over his words, his own actions shocking him. He swallows dryly, looking at the shock and confusion in his friends eyes.
Satoru turns on his heel, quickly shuffling away into the crowd, ignoring Suguru's shouts for him to come back, relaxing slightly as he hears it drown in the waves of the music, his throat slowly becoming dry as he breathes heavily. It was just some stupid banter, yes he may have taken it too far, but is it really supposed to hurt this much? It feels as if things around him are happening at the speed of light. Wasn't he just smiling at Getou 2 minutes ago? It's clear Satoru is embarrassed by his ego.
ᯓ♪𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓼𝓽𝓸𝓹 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓵𝓭 𝓳𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓽𝓸 𝓼𝓽𝓸𝓹 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓯𝓮𝓮𝓵𝓲𝓷'ᯓ♪
Heat blooms through his body, a thin layer of sheen sweat starting to form on his forehead as his eyes frantically look around, why is he doing this? What was his plan again? What is he doing here? What is he doing?
Suddenly, the feeling of gravity pulls him out of his thoughts as he feels himself escape the large bustling crowd, he definitely shouldn't have started the party here.
Nanami is in the far left corner of the room, his leg crossed over the other as he discusses something on his phone, probably his part time job. Meanwhile, Sukuna is leaning against him, smirking proudly as he brushes his hand against some women talking to him, the women giggling flirtatiously in response, well, not all of them. Some of them were looking at nanami or either on their phone. Suddenly there's a sound of frantic breathing and steps against the wooden floor, Sukana's eyes darken slightly as he notices Satoru tumbling towards them, catching himself mere seconds before slamming into him. “You seemed troubled,” Sukuna says gruffly, looking at the mess in front of him. That mess glares at him before straightening, plastering a smirk on its face.
“Troubled?” Satoru scoffs, avoiding eye contact “Please, you don't know who I am” He turns around slightly. Noticing a black haired woman standing in front of him, eyeing him up and down in shock at his sudden appearance, and also looking at the sweat sticking on his forehead. Yeah, no one believes him.
Satoru smirks flirtatiously, his pearly white teeth slightly shimmering in the coloured light as he steps closer towards the woman, “hey, great night out today isn't it?” he says even though they’re indoors, trying to brush off what happened with Suguru. Sex will fix it, it always does. Satoru Gojo has never been rejected before, and Besides, she's not going to reject him–
“If you’re hitting on me, I'm not interested.” The woman dryly smiles, her lipgloss shining as she starts scooting closer to Sukuna, earning a victorious smile from the man dressed in red. Sukuna instinctively wraps a hand around her waist, squeezing it visibly. The woman flips her silky black half up behind her shoulder, her hands creeping up to adjust the top area of her green dress, her large crystal necklace squirming in protest against the movement of her chest.
ᯓ♪𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓬𝓪𝓷 𝓴𝓲𝓼𝓼 𝓪 𝓱𝓾𝓷𝓭𝓻𝓮𝓭 𝓫𝓸𝔂𝓼 𝓲𝓷 𝓫𝓪𝓻𝓼
𝓢𝓱𝓸𝓸𝓽 𝓪𝓷𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻 𝓼𝓱𝓸𝓽, 𝓽𝓻𝔂 𝓽𝓸 𝓼𝓽𝓸𝓹 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓯𝓮𝓮𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓰
𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓬𝓪𝓷 𝓼𝓪𝔂 𝓲𝓽'𝓼 𝓳𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝔀𝓪𝔂 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓪𝓻𝓮
𝓜𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓪 𝓷𝓮𝔀 𝓮𝔁𝓬𝓾𝓼𝓮, 𝓪𝓷𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻 𝓼𝓽𝓾𝓹𝓲𝓭 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓸𝓷ᯓ♪
Satoru stands there, just, stands there. Gojo Satoru, the Gojo Satoru, has been rejected by a woman for the first time in his life, all because of some stupid new chad. He panics, alarm sirens going off in his brain as he starts to think of a million excuses at once in order to not embarrass himself. He can never let himself get embarrassed in front of a woman, it's one of the number one internal rules he has stuck on him since the start of university, and there is absolutely no way he's going to let one silly night ruin that for him. His mouth quickly opens, he doesn't know what he's going to say honestly, because it seems that his mouth is moving faster than his brain. He just prays that it's not something reckless, is he even religious? No, Probably not.
“Im gay”
ᯓ♪𝓨𝓸𝓾'𝓻𝓮 𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓯𝓪𝓬𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓯𝓪𝓬𝓮 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 "𝓘 𝓽𝓸𝓵𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓼𝓸"
𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀 𝓘 𝓱𝓪𝓽𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓼𝓪𝔂, "𝓘 𝓽𝓸𝓵𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓼𝓸"
𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀 𝓘 𝓱𝓪𝓽𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓼𝓪𝔂, 𝓫𝓾𝓽, 𝓘 𝓽𝓸𝓵𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓼𝓸ᯓ♪
To be continued