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Yuuji doesn't keep regular hours these days.
Gachinko Fight Club operates primarily in the evenings, starting up after standard work hours and continuing late into the night. By the time Yuuji returns to his room, ignoring some sounds coming from Hakari's bedroom down the hall, it's so late that it's nearly morning. He showers, washing away the blood from his fights and poking at the bruises. None are bad enough to worry him; with any luck, they'll be gone by morning. Throwing on some sweatpants, he collapses on to his bed and paws for his phone, nearly dropping it to the floor before swiping it open.
A few missed messages from his group chat with Fushiguro and Kugisaki. Fushiguro got approached by a modeling scout on their recent mission and Kugisaki has some thoughts on the matter. Something incomprehensible from Gojo in the chat with him and Fushiguro and Kugisaki, a pastry-related riddle that Yuuji's too exhausted to pick apart. A sea of missed messages in the group chat with all students of Jujutsu High, but no one's tagged him, so it can't be anything too important. An invitation for a mission tomorrow from Nanami to which Yuuji types out a quick acceptance. The most recent message from Gojo was a few minutes ago, so Yuuji taps on his contact without hesitation.
It's a given that Yuuji's call will connect, has been ever since Gojo's return from the prison realm. Gojo is a prolific and enthusiastic texter and while Yuuji's never unhappy to receive a message from him, it's Gojo's voice that he prefers rather than puzzling out obscure memes. He tries not to take advantage of the privilege, calling late enough that he doesn't interrupt Gojo's classes, missions, or meetings with the higher ups. Yuuji's not as worried about disrupting Gojo's sleep, as he doesn't have proof that Gojo ever slumbers.
Still, Yuuji always checks, "You're not busy, are you?"
"Hardly," Gojo promises. "You have great timing. I just exorcised a curse."
"How recently?"
On the other end of the line, a crash resounds, heavy as an earthquake, then the squelching sound of a curse's last breaths. "Very. It was a mildly interesting one. It took the shape of a sphinx."
"Like the cat?"
"Body of a lion and the head of a human," Gojo corrects. There's some shuffling about. "It tried to make a mummy of me. I impressed on it that I preferred my organs inside my body. Our disagreement turned violent, as such things do."
"It's like you were in your very own horror movie! It's a bad thing curses don't show up on video, else someone could have filmed it as found footage horror."
"You're right, I would make an excellent horror movie protagonist. Final girl Gojo Satoru against the forces of evil."
"Much better than a mummy, anyway," Yuuji agrees. "Your eyes are too nice to be all dried up and wrapped. Or did they take eyes out with the organs?"
"Hm, you know what, it did try to go for the eyes."
"I'm glad you're alright, Gojo-sensei!" As he talks, Yuuji gets into a more comfortable position on his bed. He kicks off some clothes from the end of the bed, gets his pillow under his head. He could fall asleep like this, really. Everything is good: he won his fights, his best friends are safe even if Kugisaki's threatening to go after Fushiguro's hair, and Gojo's voice is in his ear. "Your students aren't with you?"
"It's past their bedtime and they're too delicate for this particular curse. I try to keep them away from special grades."
"Anyone promising in the new class? I see them talk sometimes on the chat, but I don't have much to say."
Amusement colors Gojo's voice. "They call you a cryptid. The fourth year who got himself suspended one week into term and now hangs out at the fight club."
"I'd do it again, too," Yuuji grumbles. The higher ups nearly got a second year killed. There's no world in which Yuuji could have kept silent about it. The suspension's not forever, anyway, and he's been having fun these past few months with Hakari and Hoshi. The higher ups have to let him back into school at some point. And even if they don't, it's his final year. "Is it a good thing to be a cryptid?"
"Yes. They're planning to sneak out this weekend to watch you fight."
"I'll put on a good show. I fought against a curse user tonight, Gero. He had a poison technique. Nearly got me!"
"Go on."
Yuuji does. He recaps tonight's fights, then the others he's fought in the week since he last spoke with Gojo. He's not updated his current teacher the same way he's updating Gojo; his current teacher is far too chummy with the higher ups. Yuuji figures he'll see him when he sees him. Fushiguro and Kugisaki are making the guy's life hell in small ways, anyway, as revenge for not standing up for Yuuji during the suspension hearing.
It's easy being here at Hakari's fight club. There's a weight that's been lifted that Yuuji can't quite describe. No expectations except to punch as hard as he can. For all that he misses his friends, he'll miss this place too when he has to leave.
Almost unconsciously, he reaches down with the hand not holding the phone to palm his dick through his sweatpants. He was too tired to bother getting off in the shower, but on the phone with Gojo, it's like he's had a second wind.
It's good. Gojo's voice in his ear, the little sounds he makes as Yuuji talks, the way he takes over the conversation when Yuuji mentions a curse user Gojo's fought before. Gojo's voice is all smooth, easy, cheerful in a way that makes Yuuji yearn to be seeing him. But then if Gojo were here, Yuuji wouldn't be able to stroke his cock through his sweatpants. It's nothing bad, not yet. He's not touching it directly, just rubbing it against his thigh. It's nothing new, even if he's not done it like this before; Gojo is a frequent visitor in Yuuji's fantasies. The most frequent one, really, beating out even people Yuuji's had sex with, the years of fantasizing weightier.
It's not until Yuuji makes a noise that he thinks there might be an issue with this.
Gojo pauses mid-sentence. "Are you jerking off over there?" He doesn't sound scandalized, too much sharp humor in his voice.
Yuuji's face burns. He takes his hand off his dick immediately, unable to stop the thrust into the air that follows. "No!"
"Really?" A taunt.
Yuuji briefly tries to suffocate himself with a pillow. "Gojo-sensei."
"Tell me."
It can't be worse than fessing up to Gojo about any of the other shit he's pulled with Fushiguro and Kugisaki in the past. Besides, he's wrapping up his final year at Jujutsu High. Gojo can't kill him too badly. For all that Gojo's concern for people in general falls short of Yuuji's own, Gojo cares a lot about his students, past and present. There's not much they can do to get in his bad graces; Yuuji's stretched that care with Sukuna, with Kenjaku, with his overwhelming guilt and grief in the aftermath of Shibuya, and it's never snapped.
"I'm just…"
"Just…?" Gojo trails off, expectant.
"Touching it. Not directly," Yuuji says in a rush. "I've been busy! It's been hard to get the time in. I can stop."
"Don't stop on my account," Gojo replies, his voice lower.
Yuuji whimpers.
"Now, where was I? Oh yes, the higher ups' recent political machinations and how they relate to the change of power from twenty years ago. Are you listening?"
"Yes." He always is, when it's Gojo.
"Are you jerking off properly?"
Yuuji swallows. "I can be."
"No, over your pants is fine." He can all but hear Gojo's satisfied expression.
Yuuji presses down on his bruises from the fight on his way down to his pants, digging into the ache. It's not really pain, or rather the scale of pain is so small compared to what Yuuji's endured in the past that it's just sensation. He can almost imagine that the bruises were left by different hands, a different sort of violence, a passion from lust instead of bloodlust.
Gojo doesn't indulge him with any dirty talk, instead going deeper into clan infighting between the higher ups two decades ago. Nothing interesting, nothing as relevant as the way Yuuji's collecting a wet spot on his sweatpants the more he strokes over them.
When Yuuji makes a noise, he hears back, "Louder."
So Yuuji indulges Gojo in return, the politics lesson gaining a breathy soundtrack. It's not as good as jerking off into his hand. The material of his sweatpants is soft but not entirely comfortable, leaving Yuuji to hope that he doesn't end up chafed. It's still one of the best things he's felt in his life, considering who's on the other end of the line. The way that Gojo's just letting him do this, the idea that Gojo might be touching himself in turn.
When he comes, it's to Gojo speculating on whether one of the higher ups is embezzling funds. Yuuji's breath doesn't quite hit the right note when he asks, "Is that the one with the big hair?"
"That's the one." Gojo stops there, the silence between them heavy, charged. "Yuuji."
"Satoru," Yuuji says in turn for the first time. He figures he gets to, now. He blames the next sentence on the way his head's pleasantly fuzzy, fucked out and fought out, a drink earlier with Hakari too. "Hey, Satoru, can I fuck you?"
"What have they been teaching you over there?" Gojo sounds delighted. "What a bad influence Hakari and Hoshi are on you. Is this what you've been up to all this time, fighting and fucking?"
"Uh," Yuuji says, caught out.
So it's like this: he's been bored. Without Fushiguro and Kugisaki to spend time with, Yuuji's just gone along with Hakari and Hoshi, and he hasn't turned down a night out with them, or a night in. It's a good time, a good education. A friendly affection that turns sexual at will, easy in a way Yuuji's never had with anyone else. Maybe he's not turned down anyone from the ring, either, if they want to take it out of the ring and into the bedroom. Yuuji's partial to a really good fight, the kind that leaves his blood pumping, and someone who can give him a good fight can usually give him a good fuck. Gojo's not the strongest for nothing; it's enough to send heat running down his body at the thought.
"Say yes," Gojo prompts.
"Yes. I've… I have been."
"What a delinquent," Gojo croons. It sounds like a compliment. Yuuji's taking it that way. "Can you get hard again?"
"Fuck. I need a few minutes." Not too many, as long as Gojo keeps talking.
"I'll wait," says Gojo, magnanimously. "Come by the high school this weekend. I'll test you on your progress. If you're good enough, I'll let you."
Just the thought of a spar against Gojo has Yuuji almost levitating out of bed. It's been too long. The rest of it leaves him lightheaded with want. "Aren't I still suspended?"
Gojo makes a sound of annoyance. "I'll resolve that little situation. Don't you worry about it, Yuuji."
"Please don't murder the higher ups on my behalf. I'll feel really guilty about it." On the other end of the line, the absentminded sound that Gojo makes has Yuuji adding, "The guilt will keep me from an erection."
"No murder," Gojo agrees, sighing. "Your morals are very inconsistent for a member of an underground fight club."
"Yeah, sure. I missed you," Yuuji blurts out, because he has. As good as it's been here, he's missed turning a corner and seeing Gojo. He may not be Yuuji's teacher anymore, hasn't been for a few years, but Yuuji's never bonded with anyone in the jujutsu world in the same way he has with this man.
"Is that your excuse?"
"It's true."
"Then I'll use the same excuse," Gojo says, and his voice curls around Yuuji like an embrace.