When in Doubt, Buy Him a Brand New Lamborghini

Sweet Deal

Gojo woke up clutching his bedsheets in the dead of the night.

Silence followed as he breathed heavily on the soft mattress, his chest rising and falling rapidly before slowing down to an exasperated sigh. He had been dreaming about the exact same thing for the past three days now, and it was driving him nuts.

First, he'd find himself in the passenger seat of a car, its engines revving as he excitedly leans out the side of the window, breathing in the fresh air and the aftertaste of gas that invades his sense of smell afterwards.

Then suddenly he'd be pulled in. A firm grip on his shirt as he's brought back into the safety of the vehicle. He'd turn around, and he'd be face to face with him.

It's dangerous. He can feel it. The man's nothing but bad news. Yet the allure is intoxicating. So he dares to lean in closer, and closer, and closer.

And just as lips ghost over each other, he wakes up.

Gojo can't even feel his legs. And as much as he hates to admit it, there's that familiar feeling pooling deep in his stomach, heat beginning to rush to his face in waves. So he's lying on the bed, facing the ceiling as one hand slowly crawls towards his pants.

And then he stops.

Turning over to bury his face in his pillow, Satoru groans. It wasn't even a wet dream, and yet he was out here trying to rub one out just from the thought alone. He had to admit, that brief ride with Sukuna must have altered his brain chemistry in some shape or form because he could not get it out of his head no matter how hard he tried.

It was exciting. It opened up circuits within his brain he never even knew existed. It was like he was riding a car for the first time ever. It had felt new, and that's saying something because Gojo had everything he could dream of.

And it was Sukuna who was behind it all.

Gojo huffs into the pillows, thoughts racing around in his head. He wanted to experience it again.

To feel.

If Gojo is being honest, he's never been so infatuated with someone to the point of desperation. It was his Suguru phase all over again. He could remember it as clear as the clouds in the sky, the way his heart sped up whenever he saw the raven haired man. He'd take in every miniscule detail of Geto's face, believing there was nothing in the world that could compare to the perfection in front of him.

Or so he thought. Well, turns out the universe hates him and the only one he was willing to devote himself to had been the very man to turn his back on him.

He doesn't know how to feel. Both of his heartstrings twirl and tug in separate directions. One of them clings desperately to the fuzzy memories of Geto. The other tears, tugs, and has its sights set on Sukuna, the dangerous new drifter who has a death grip on his fucked-out mind. And it hurts, because it literally feels like his chest is being torn into two halves of himself.

So when he gets to his first class of the day and finds a seat next to Shoko and Nanami, he spills his heart out immediately, like a broken tap that's leaking through imaginary holes.

When he's done rambling about everything that had happened in the past few days, including his little joyride with Sukuna, and how he wants Suguru to come back already and tell him he's sorry, Shoko and Nanami both stare in poorly-hidden awe.

"That's crazy." The blonde man finally says, putting his coffee down as he shuffles through a mess of papers in front of him.

"What do you even see in Geto?" Shoko lazily questions, chin propped up on her palm.