Yuji only wanted money for university. Gojo only wanted a relaxing day at the spa. What neither of them expected: ending up sweaty, pressed against each other, panting each other’s names in a waxing room.
Yuji waxes his professor Gojo with hot wax… and ends up having sex with him on the same spa bed.
Part-time job: 10/10, highly recommended.
Yuuji Itadori, at twenty-three, already knew what it felt like to have the weight of adult life hit him in the back of the neck like a bad joke. He lived in a small, noisy apartment on the outskirts of the city, sharing space with his older brother Choso—who always seemed on the verge of a nervous breakdown—and his uncle Sukuna, who treated the place like his personal dojo and left weights scattered everywhere. Rent didn’t pay itself, university books cost a kidney every semester, and his comparative literature classes were draining his soul.
That night, after a double shift at the café he’d just quit (the boss had changed his schedule for the third time, and Yuuji could no longer make it to 8 a.m. without looking like a zombie), he collapsed in front of the old laptop Choso had lent him. The screen flickered with bluish light, illuminating the mess of his room: stacks of books covered in yellow sticky notes, a wrinkled Jujutsu High t-shirt he slept in, and the distant sound of Sukuna grunting in the living room while doing push-ups. “Shut up, brat, I’m focused!” his uncle had barked half an hour earlier, and the clang of weights hitting the floor still echoed like a war drum.
Yuuji sighed, rubbing his eyes. The cursor blinked on the part-time jobs page. He’d sent twenty applications in the last two weeks. Twenty. And every single one had come back with a “thanks, but no.” His stomach twisted with anxiety; the next payment for his Gender Theory and Contemporary Narrative books was due in ten days. If he didn’t find something soon, he’d have to ask Choso for money again… and he hated that more than anything.
He kept scrolling. Job after job. Waiter. Delivery guy. High school tutor. Nothing that fit his afternoon classes. He was about to close the laptop and give up when a bold ad jumped out at him:
Assistant wanted for premium waxing spa.
Flexible schedule 17:00–21:00.
No experience required (2-hour beginner course included).
Relaxed atmosphere and good vibes!
Yuuji blinked. Waxing? Seriously? He let out a short, incredulous laugh that came out as a dry snort. The pay wasn’t bad. The hours… perfect. He finished classes at 14:00, had time to go home, shower, and get there without stress. Plus, it said “assistant only.” Handing towels, preparing creams, cleaning beds. Nothing crazy. How hard could it be?
He bit his lower lip, feeling that weird mix of hope and embarrassment rising in his chest. For a second he pictured a naked client and his ears heated up. “Nah… they’ll probably keep me out of the room when the serious stuff starts,” he thought, trying to convince himself. The cursor kept blinking, almost daring him.
From the living room came the sound of Choso humming softly while heating ramen in the microwave. Sukuna let out a rough laugh at something on his phone. Normal life.
Yuuji took a deep breath, rolled his shoulders to release the tension, and clicked “Send application.” The click sounded ridiculously loud in the silence of his room. Done. It was sent.
He flopped backward onto the bed without even turning off the laptop. Books dug into his back, but he didn’t move them. He closed his eyes and let exhaustion wrap around him like a heavy blanket. The ceiling fan spun with a soft hum, and from outside came the distant rumble of cars on the avenue. Tomorrow would be another day. Hopefully.
The next day, sunlight poured through the apartment window when Yuuji got up with his hair a total mess and a phone notification that made him snap his eyes open.
Congratulations! You have been selected for the Spa Assistant position. We look forward to seeing you today at 17:00 for your induction mini-course. Please bring comfortable clothing and a smile. We’re excited to meet you!
Yuuji stared at the screen for a full second, mouth open, before letting out a muffled victory shout that made Choso poke his head out from the kitchen with one eyebrow raised.
“Did you win the lottery or what, little brother?”
“Almost,” Yuuji replied, grinning like an idiot. “I got a new job. At some premium spa or something…”
Choso just nodded, but there was a proud glint in his tired eyes. Sukuna, from the couch, grunted something that sounded suspiciously like “don’t wax your own ass at work, brat.”
By 13:50 Yuuji was already sitting under the old cherry tree on campus, back against the rough trunk and legs stretched out on the cool grass. The wind rustled the leaves softly, sending a few late pink petals drifting down like slow confetti. The smell of fresh coffee from the nearby cafeteria mixed with the sweet, slightly dusty scent of the sakura trees that refused to die completely. It was the kind of afternoon that made you forget exams, rent, and adult life for a second. Perfect for “touching grass,” as Nobara had christened it with that authority only she possessed.
Yuuji toyed with a petal that had landed in his lap, twirling it between his fingers while mentally rehearsing how to tell them about the job without sounding completely desperate. Or worse: without Nobara bursting into laughter and Megumi giving him that “I knew you’d end up in something weird” look.
Suddenly he heard footsteps. He looked up and there they came: Nobara with her pleated skirt impeccable and her bag slung over her shoulder like a declaration of war, Megumi trailing behind with hands in his pockets and that “I’m only here because I was forced” expression.
“Yuuji!” Nobara shouted from afar, waving like she was in a parade. “Have the mosquitoes eaten you yet or are you still alive?”
Yuuji jumped to his feet, grinning ear to ear, the petal forgotten as it fell to the ground.
“Kugisaki! Fushiguro! Finally! I thought you’d fallen asleep in Gender Theory.”
Megumi arrived first, dropping down beside Yuuji without ceremony, crossing his legs.
“It wasn’t that easy to escape. The professor kept talking about Butler and no one moved.”
Nobara settled in dramatically, spreading out the blanket she always carried (because “grass stains and I’m not a savage”), and sat cross-legged like a queen on her throne.
“Done. We’re here. Now spill, because your face is screaming ‘I have juicy news and I’m about to explode.’ Did you get a job or what?”
Yuuji scratched the back of his neck, ears already turning a little red with anticipation. He sat back down, crossing his legs and resting his elbows on his knees.
“Yeah. I got it. The email came this morning. I start today at 17:00.”
Nobara raised a perfectly drawn eyebrow.
“And? Don’t make us beg, Itadori. Where? How much do they pay? Hours? Cash or food vouchers?”
Yuuji blurted it all out in one rushed breath, words tumbling like he’d been holding them in since he opened the email:
“It’s at a spa. Premium waxing place. The ad said ‘assistant,’ hours 17:00 to 21:00, perfect because I finish classes at 14:00. No experience needed, they give a two-hour mini course, and they pay… they pay well. Really well. Enough for next semester’s books and a bit extra. Assistant only: handing towels, preparing machines, cleaning rooms… stuff like that.”
He paused to breathe, looking at his friends with bright eyes.
Nobara stayed silent for a full second—which was rare—before bursting into laughter that made a couple of nearby students turn.
“Are you aware you’re going to have to wax pussies and asses?”
Yuuji literally snorted juice out his nose. He coughed, wiped his sleeve across his face, and felt his ears burn to the point of pain.
“Kugisaki, we’re eating…” Megumi muttered with pure disgust, though he still popped a piece of sesame chicken into his mouth like nothing.
Around them the campus buzzed: students rushing with folders, distant laughter, the hum of a drone from some photography club. But under the tree, the world felt smaller, safer. Nobara had insisted the “bad vibes” of the packed cafeteria weren’t going to ruin her good mood, so there they were.
“I don’t think they’ll make me do that on the first day,” he defended, voice a little higher than normal. His red ears gave everything away. “Besides, it’s probably laser… looks like a luxury spa. I’ll just hand towels and creams and that’s it.”
“But some girls prefer other methods…” Nobara snapped her imaginary chopsticks toward Yuuji like a sword. “There’s hot wax, cheap-smelling depilatory cream, classic shaving… and threading. That one’s for real masochists.”
She shuddered dramatically and Megumi rolled his eyes, though one corner of his mouth curved slightly. Yuuji felt his stomach knot with nervous laughter and pure terror at the same time. For a second he pictured a client screaming while hairs were yanked out with thread and had to shake his head to erase the image.
“Itadori’s right,” Megumi cut in, always the most sensible. “They’ll probably make you stay outside the room when the private parts start. Hand towels, clean, prep machines. Assistant stuff. They won’t throw you in headfirst.”
Yuuji let out all the air he’d been holding, shoulders dropping in relief. The knot in his chest loosened a bit.
“God, thanks Fushiguro…” he murmured, running a hand over his face. “Seriously, if they make me wax someone on day one, I quit before I even start.”
Nobara let out a crystal-clear laugh that made a couple of nearby students turn to look.
“Oh, Yuuji… this is going to be pure gold. I can already see you telling horror stories in the group chat. ‘Today I burned a lady’s ass with hot wax, 10/10 would recommend.’”
Yuuji groaned and threw a crumpled napkin at her, but he couldn’t help laughing too. The sun filtering through the cherry tree leaves warmed the back of his neck, the juice tasted sweet, and for a little while the stress of pending books and rent felt far away. Just for a little while. Because at exactly 17:00 he had to show up at the spa.
And something in the pit of his stomach told him this “perfect job” was going to complicate his life in ways he still couldn’t imagine.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/80639351
