𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐌𝐞𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 ✿•˖*

𝐇𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐞

<3

Short Story

If there's one thing that Gojo knows you do well, it's that you know how to manage your feelings.

You're headstrong and move at your own will. You're the executive director of a company that controls the majority of Tokyo's goods after all, you're an absolute perfect fit for the job. The business attires he'd find you in while you both await for your morning cup of joe are always neatly pressed and free of wrinkles both from your care for your clothing and your upright posture that never seems to slacken unlike his. Not only that, but you're elegant in general - your mannerisms, the way you write in cursive, even your simple slightly bitter caramel coffee with a two-second mocha drizzle seems so complex yet simplified. Seriousness isn't the best trait to describe you - Gojo isn't too fond of the conservative mind (courtesy of the higher-ups) - but rather so you're more diligent and clearheaded than anything even in tough scenarios.

You remind him much of a specific junior that he likes to claim he had taken under his wing besides the latter taking care of himself than Gojo ever will. Nanami and you are quite alike in philosophical ideas and other ideologies that involve the complexity of the human mind. Not only that, but your interests also intertwine with each other as well. The type of bread you both like and the firmness of its interior, the soft jazz song that Gojo finds you humming to that belongs to the same album Nanami has in his car... hell, you two even share the same clothing company where you get your suits from. He knows you and Nanami would get along better than the melody and harmony in Ryo Fukui's "It Could Happen to You", yours and Nanami's favorite song, and it's exactly why he makes sure you avoid the former salaryman at all costs.

Gojo Satoru doesn't like to share. He is not too fond of sharing things that interest him, one of them being you. Out of all his other partners he's stayed with in bed, you're by far the red rose in the valley of yellow tulips. If you managed to get plucked by Nanami's gentle hands, his entire garden will be ruined. He's seen you one time just narrowly avoid bumping into his junior one pre-intimate evening when you asked him to pullover so you could grab your evening casse croute since you didn't want Gojo to pay for dinner again. At the same time, Nanami had exited the store the exact moment you hurried in before closing time and your body just barely squeezed into the narrow gap made between Nanami's broad frame and the doorframe. Though no words were exchanged besides a simple "thank you" from you after Nanami held the door open, Gojo had tightened his grip on the steering wheel so hard to the point where his knuckles whitened while watching the two-second encounter.

"Don't catch feelings for me, 'kay?" were the first words that Gojo had said to you before this entire flurry happened. He could have his fun but not while he could possibly have a distraction that would avert his eyes other than trying to revamp the current jujutsu world barely upheld by higher-ups whose minds are still in the Heian era. Whilst his other partners struggled to keep up with his pace, he was pleasantly surprised when you merely nodded and replied with "alright" before his fingers began unbuttoning your dress shirt while you were seated on the love hotel bed.

He's abandoned his former partners at this point. It took him a while to delete all the unlabeled numbers in his contacts that didn't have a name and only a brief conversation of where to meet up and maybe a confession from the other party that Gojo wouldn't bother replying to, but he had managed to clear his contacts besides yours to make time dedicated to spending more time with you. You're consistently busy and it's hard trying to push him into your schedule but he had managed to make it happen (or in this case, forced it to make it happen).

Gojo has asked the question multiple times before. Whether it be him asking you seated in the passenger seat, directly in the middle of sessions where he'd ask you whilst buried in the crook of your neck as he pressed his bare body against you, or straight-up ask you it in a cafe. It's the same words always answered with a single smile from you and one-word reply.

"Do you like me?"

"No."

He should be relieved. He should, he really should. He should be thankful he's found what he's been looking for all this time: a sexual partner that has managed to not catch feelings for him, so why does your gentle response sting his chest when you offer your honest opinion?

Gojo had asked you the question before he kissed you so forcefully, your back landed on the mattress of his apartment - his apartment that he had never bothered to take anyone in, his apartment that would be substituted with a love hotel or nearby inns, his apartment that contained his life and treasures. The first time he took you into his abode, he wanted to hint at you that you were special and that you were worthy of taking a glimpse at his life but you had thought nothing more of it considering you had said "I like the way its decorated, can you offer me an interior designer?"

He's currently lying on his bed while hugging your form closer to his, his tall frame perfectly cupping around yours as your back warms his chest while your legs entwine with his. Clothes are splattered over the floor in a pattern that's inconsistent and messy. Gojo breathes in your scent of your tart, fruit shampoo while he buries his nose into your locks more to take comfort in the faint scent. He doesn't do this often, cuddling. He'd rather have his back facing his partner's while having plenty of room to move around him.

Yet something about holding you close to him gives him a sense of safety, like you're an aged teddy bear that he holds onto to protect him from the monster under the bed. He enjoys the warmth your body radiates from you to him and the way your limbs loosely intertwine with his sometimes.

"(Y/N)," he murmurs quietly.

Gojo does not sleep for long durations often. He barely squeezes in just a three hour sleep before he begins a new dawn but when you're lying next to him, under the dark blue duvet, he finds his eyelids weighing themselves down after ten minutes.

"Hm?" you reply back with your eyes still shut. It's evident you're about to knock out from the Sandman's fist anytime soon.

"I have a question for you," Gojo says while admiring the angles of your side profile.

"Shoot."

He debates spitting out the usual question that toddles itself on the tip of his tongue.

"Do you..." he hesitates. Gojo Satoru almost never hesitates. "Do you... do you... wanna do this again tomorrow?"

The things he'd do to slap himself right now are ungodly.

"Can't," you yawn quietly. "I have a couple of..." another yawn. "... documents I need to pick up from our sister company." One last sleepy yawn. "I gotta leave off where this Nanami Kento guy finished before he quit or something."

His spine suddenly freezes at the name mentioned. Change the topic, change the topic, change the topic.

"That's fine... I have another question for you."

"Last one?"

It's evident you're about to warble from sleep anytime soon, especially from all the hyperactive action that occurred a few minutes ago. He can't blame you, his mind hazes into a feral state of barely-there consciousness when he's around you.

"Yeah, last one," he says. "Do you..." he hesitates again. Gojo hates this feeling he's rarely encountered since he's always confident and poised with everything he does. "... wanna go for coffee sometime this week?"

You hum. "I'll check my schedule and I'll try to find an open spot."

"Okay," he nods. "Uh, one last question."

"You liar," you snort. "You said the last one you asked would be the last."

"You know me," he chuckles softly. "Right um, do you..."

He swallows and he prays to every deity above that you don't feel it on the crown of your head.

"Do you like me?"

You go silent for a few seconds before dragging out a tired sigh.

"No. For the last time, no."

"Are you sure?"

"I don't like to give lies. They leave a bitter taste in my mouth, you know this."

"Okay," Gojo uneasily eases himself back into his pillow, loosening his grip on your waist. "I was just checking..."

The sting in his chest is back again and Gojo Satoru does not know how to fix it.

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