iris 🌈 @bloominghara - Tumblr Blog

get him back

do you love him? do you hate him?

synopsis: he left you behind. he shouldn't be surprised when you moved on - even if it's with his roommate.

pairing: former childhood friend!geto x f!reader x lovestruck!gojo

content: mdni, angst and smut, college au, former friends, pining, yearning, emotional hurt, piv sex, missionary, gojo being obsessed and down bad, lowk asshole suguru, jealousy, mixed feelings

a/n: as requested, this was an ancient fic i deleted and never continued from my old ao3 acct lol

Suguru Geto was a constant.

Maybe that's why you took him for granted. Always there - if only just hanging in the background of every scene. Charismatic in that easy kind of way that had you hanging onto his every word, searching for his presence in every room. If anyone asked, you would gladly claim he was your best friend. Maybe even a little more. After all, he was the one who volunteered to be your first kiss. Just for practice, of course.

You never considered that you might not be the same for him. Or that he might not stick around.

And you would've never believed it if someone told you he'd say goodbye with a letter tucked unstamped in your mailbox at fourteen only a handful of nights before you were supposed to start high school together.

Tears brimming over heavy lashes at his neat penmanship informing you he was moving and wouldn't be attending the same school. No explanations or apologies. Straight to the point.

Was that all you got? After nearly a decade of friendship?

Fuck him.

Skimming over your memories of him for the almost somber look on his face in the fading sunset leaving after he walked you home with false promises of seeing you later. You thought maybe he was just disappointed that the summer was drawing to a close - trading lazy days hanging out on the floor of his room and listening to music or staying up to stargaze on the lawn for studying and homework. Not that it was goodbye for good.

Your thumb ran over the ridges of the photo, the corner of it bent and the bottom creased from the passage of time. His arm was slung around you and both of you were smiling - yours toothy and big and his lips just faintly lilting up. Probably not even ten years old yet in this one. You frowned, letting the photo fall back into the moving box before picking up the heavy cardboard box and putting it up on the top shelf of your new closet.

What was the point in thinking about ancient history?

You hadn't seen him in forever. That summer seven years ago wasn't the last time, but sometimes you sort of wished it had been.

God knows what he was up to now - and quite frankly, it wasn't like it was any of your business anyway. You told yourself you’d just be hurting your feelings trying to find him on social media, watching him live his life through a screen like you’d never been a part of it in the first place.

Old grudges died hard, after all.

You plopped down on your creaking bed frame, picking up your phone and skimming through a few unread messages asking if you wanted to go out tonight. You’d just transferred to this university to finish your degree, thankful for the few friends you had that already went here. You’d spent the past few years at a much cheaper one close to home - saving up the scraps you made from working two jobs to be able to afford a crummy one bedroom and the tuition fees the scholarship you somehow managed to snag didn’t cover.

Classes were supposed to start in a couple days, your final weekend of freedom before the monotony and stress of writing papers and exams. Might as well take advantage of it. You shot back a quick reply agreeing as one of them offered to pick you up in a few hours.

Maybe you’d meet a few new people while you were at it.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

You froze at the too-familiar sound of a guy's voice - deeper and manlier than the last time you heard it. The coward in you wanted to tuck tail and run all the way back to your shitty apartment even if your heels made your ankles bleed. But curiosity killed the cat and you too apparently as your head swiveled around to confirm who it belonged to. You almost hoped satisfaction wouldn’t bring you back, not when you already knew what that meant when it came to him.

“Hi, Gojo,” You politely greeted. His smile turned into a smirk at your forced civility.

“I think you of all people can call me Satoru,” He teased. “And you didn't answer me.”

“Just one, okay?”

You watched his hand raise up to wave over the bartender, his tall frame leaning against the bar top and the easy smile on his face.

“Surprised you even remembered me,” You said, not really sure how you felt about the observation even as it left your lips.

“How could I forget a face that pretty?” He flirted, so casual in his delivery you couldn't tell if he meant it or not.

You huffed, rolling your eyes as he rattled off a drink order to the bartender. You watched the latter grab a glass and start mixing a drink, not wanting to let the former know how much he rattled you. Eyes scanning across the bar, you spotted your friends distracted and chatting with a group of guys you didn’t know.

“Sooooo,” He drew the syllable out, waiting for you to look back his way. “Did ya miss me?”

“Nope,” You replied as the bartender slid the drink in front of you.

“You’re gonna hurt my feelings, baby,” He pouted, one of his hands sliding over your hips to hold your waist.

Should you stop him? Sure.

Were you going to? Nope.

“I don’t think you have feelings for me to hurt,” You sighed, taking a long sip of the drink.

“C’mon, what are the chances of running into each other here?” He asked, his knee sliding in between your legs as he leaned in closer.

“I just transferred here,” You forced your lips in a line, composure slipping as his eyes pierced into yours.

He looked simply ecstatic.

“Really?” He asked.

His proximity to you was drawing glances from the other bar patrons. Clearly, he was well-known around here. It didn’t take a genius to guess why he was so happy.

“Guess we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other,” He grinned.

“Awfully presumptuous of you,” You clicked your tongue, looking away as his knee slipped up higher.

“Don’t tell me you have a boyfriend,” Satoru whined, his thumb rubbing circles on your waist and wrinkling your dress.

“I don’t,” You admitted with an exhale. You used to have one, before a rough breakup a few months ago. Though, you weren’t even sure if he would call himself that back then. Really, it was just a mess you were more than thankful to be out of.

“Could I convince you to come home with me then?” He asked, his nose brushing against yours as he closed the distance.

“No,” You lied.

You still ended up face-down on his mattress an hour later though.

His large hands skimming over the lace of your panties, a finger slipping under the band and lifting it up to let it snap back against the skin with a laugh.

“You’re still a tease,” You pouted, voice muffled into his silk sheets.

“And you’re still pretending that you don’t love it,” He replied, two fingers hooking around the edge and grazing against your hip as he roughly tore them down your thighs.

You didn’t reply to that.

He hummed to himself, pleased as he tossed your panties somewhere behind him before grabbing your hips and pulling your ass into his crotch, only the cotton of his boxers separating the stiff length of him from your skin.

“Been too long,” He mumbled, grinding into you. You were inclined to agree with him there. “Wanted to bend you over the sink in the bathroom back there.”

“Bet it wouldn't be the first time you did that,” You halfheartedly scolded. He chuckled, pulling back so he could flip you over to your front. You groaned, pushing out your bottom lip to pout at him.

Couldn't he just fuck you already?

Your neck was probably half-purple by now, evidence of his affection he insisted on showing from the second you passed through the threshold of his apartment and ended up splayed out for him in his sheets.

“So needy,” He tsk-ed, clicking his tongue as he spread your legs out for him. “Don't worry, baby, I'll take good care of you.”

You wondered just how many girls heard that same line from him since the last time you'd seen him.

“Just you, sweetheart,” He said, embarrassment setting in when you realized you had actually said what you were thinking out loud. “Most of them prefer my roommate.”

You couldn't imagine how ungodly attractive his roommate would have to be for anyone to prefer him over the gorgeous man nestled between your thighs.

“Poor you,” You cooed.

His fingers dug into the pliable flesh, holding you open as his tongue slipped inside. You relaxed into his fluffy pillow, your nails clawing at his sheets when he angled himself so his nose was pressed against your clit with every practiced pattern of his tongue.

“S-shit, Satoru,” You whimpered, your whine only encouraging him to go faster.

He was so enthusiastic - lapping up every moan he tore out of you and each tremble in your thighs as they clamped around his head.

Even if he could be abrasive and annoying at times, he was still a fucking god in the bedroom.

His tongue trailed up to your clit, two long fingers sliding in with ease as he sucked messily on the sensitive bud. You grabbed a fistful of his hair to pull him closer as you climaxed, hips arching up into his mouth.

“Already, baby?” You could feel his smirk as he adjusted to pepper kisses along your inner thigh.

The last time you’d been fucked so good had been the last time you had sex with him. His ego didn’t need to hear that though.

“Whatever,” You whined, biting down on your lower lip and feeling needy as he pushed off the bed to stand up and remove his boxers.

His cock springing up had you swallowing hard, somehow looking even bigger than you remembered. As pale as the rest of him, a thick vein bulging along the length of it as he climbed back on top of you. His lips crashing into yours for the hundredth time tonight, this time tasting like you as his tongue brushed against your teeth. While one hand groped your breast roughly, the other one fumbled blindly for his nightstand, pulling the drawer open and tugging out a condom.

He only separated from you long enough to tear it open with one of his sharp canines, tossing the wrapper on the expensive lacquered wood, carelessly stained with water-rings. Sheathing himself quickly before angling himself at your entrance and inching his way in as his lips found yours again.

You moaned into his mouth as he gave you time to adjust to his size.

Jesus fucking Christ.

Despite the past hour of foreplay, it still almost burned as he pressed in further, walls throbbing around how deliciously slow he was taking his time entering. You wrapped your legs around his waist, ankles crossing as you tried to control your reaction.

“Taking it so good for me, baby,” He murmured into your skin, pressing his sweaty forehead against yours as his tip grazed against your cervix. You couldn’t do anything but whine in reply. “Never gonna get rid of me now.”

He pulled out as slowly as he entered, your nails scratching at his back desperately at the absence of him.

Even though you knew it was probably just as tortuous for him too, he rubbed the tip along the entrance, teasingly pressing it against your clit and watching the way you arched up for him.

“Please fuck me,” You hated that it came out as a mewl. Hated how easily he turned you into putty in his hands. Unable to say no. Unable to even want to say no. “Please, Satoru.”

“Since you asked so sweetly,” He purred, thrusting himself all the way in before you could blink, your yelp turning into a moan as he found a steady rhythm in-and-out, in-and-out.

He was sucking a fresh spot on your neck, pawing at your exposed breasts as his teeth sunk into your collarbone. His own moans muffled into your skin, fucking you like he really did miss you.

Maybe you were needy - but he was clingy. Not allowing so much of an inch between you as he hit a spot that had you breathlessly groaning his name over and over again like a desperate prayer.

You hoped his roommate wasn’t home. Or they were certainly getting an earful.

But then again, Satoru had said he was even more popular with the ladies. So maybe this wasn’t all that uncommon for them.

“Say my name again, baby,” Satoru groaned, his thrusts getting sloppier as a hand slipped down to play with your clit.

“Mm, ah, fuck, Satoru,” You repeated, not even realizing what he had just requested, his words just a buzz in the back of your brain.

“So perfect,” He praised. His breath on your neck and the harsh circles he drew around your clit were too much, stars dotting your vision as you closed your eyes, a strangled gasp torn from your throat as your legs locked tighter around his hips.

He kept going, not that you were listening or he was even fully aware of what he was saying, finishing in the condom with a few more messy pumps before pulling out and laying directly on top of you. Sticky skin and heavy breaths as both of you panted and came back to your senses.

“Fuck,” You murmured, stroking his soft hair absentmindedly.

“Fuck,” He agreed, resting his head in the crook of your neck.

What now? Were you supposed to call a cab in the middle of the night? Ask him for a ride home to avoid doing the walk of shame?

“You wanna stay the night?” Satoru asked, sighing contentedly.

“I guess,” You nodded, readjusting so your chin was on his head. “You've got to drive me back to my place tomorrow though.”

“Sure.”

You were surprised to find the bed empty when you woke up. You didn't actually know anything about what his morning routine looked like - but he definitely seemed the type where you'd have to toss a bucket of water on him if you wanted him to wake up before noon.

Swinging your legs off the side, thighs sore and aching, you rubbed your eyes and looked around the room. He was tidy, especially for a guy still in college. There were a few picture frames on the corner of the dresser across the wall from the bed, and you were about to walk over and take a closer look before the door swung open.

“Look who finally decided to wake up,” He grinned brightly. He was wearing a cheesy apron over his t-shirt and sweatpants, ‘Kiss the Cook' printed across it in big, bold letters. Someone, however, had taken the creative liberties to cross out the second ‘o’ and scrawled a ‘c’ over it instead along with a bright red arrow directed south.

Such a gentleman.

You raised an eyebrow, saying nothing.

He untied the apron, balling it up and tossing it in his full laundry basket.

“I wasn't the one who did that,” He tried to defend himself.

“Uh-huh,” You frowned.

“I swear.”

“Did you at least make breakfast?” You asked, brushing past him in the doorframe and peeking out into the rest of his apartment. You were wearing one of his t-shirts he lent you to sleep in, the hem falling long enough on your thighs to keep you covered in case you happened to bump into his roommate.

“I did,” He proudly proclaimed, skipping back ahead of you to lead you across the living room into the open kitchen area. Ingredients were strewn across the counter, white dust covering every available surface drawing your eyes to the open bag of flour. The only area that was semi-clean was the counter next to the fridge, fluffy pancakes stacked on three plates. One of them was already drowning in syrup, and you didn’t need to guess to know that one was Satoru’s.

You grabbed one of the other ones, looking around for a place to eat it, no dining table in sight before landing on the bartop separating the kitchen and living room. You hopped up on one of the semi-uncomfortable stools, cutting into the pancake and watching Satoru curiously.

“You guys don’t really cook a lot here, do you?”

“Not really,” Satoru admitted, leaning against the counter before picking up an entire pancake with his fork and taking a bite off the edge. He glanced back at the other unclaimed plate.

“I’ll be right back.”

You didn’t ask for an explanation, figuring he was probably just letting his roommate know breakfast was ready before the pancakes got too cold.

Although he had wrecked the kitchen in the process, the food was surprisingly tasty. And sure, your history with him was weird, to say the least, you appreciated the gesture of a homemade breakfast.

You heard his voice mingle with someone else’s down the hall before he laughed. You smiled a little to yourself, wondering what the rest of this year would look like now that he had found his way back into your life.

“Is it good?” He asked, rounding the corner as you took another bite.

“Yeah, it actually is,” You confirmed. He squeezed your shoulder, your face scrunching up when he placed a sticky kiss on your cheek.

“Told you so.”

You were busy trying to wipe the syrup off your cheek, too distracted to notice the footsteps that had stopped a few feet away from you. When you did finally look over, you could feel your heart drop into your stomach at the sight of the familiar stranger.

The same brown eyes that used to wink at you and watch you from across the room now boring into you like you were the last person on the planet he wanted to see. The lips that used to curl up in a smirk and laugh at inside jokes with you pressed into a hard line.

Suguru.

You could still picture it like it was yesterday.

How his breath had smelled like mint. Thinking he must have brushed his teeth before he came over. Wondering if he had planned on bringing this subject up? There was no way, right?

“What do you think?” He had asked, his voice soft, sunlight streaming in to highlight his beautiful features, back when there was still a glimmer in his eyes.

Was he sitting this close a few minutes ago? Your leg kept brushing against his, his fingers grazing against your wrist.

“Um, I mean, if you’re really okay with it,” You looked down, avoiding those dark eyes that seemed to pierce through to your heart every time he fixed them on you.

“It’s just practice,” Suguru used to soothe your nerves, his larger hand encompassing yours and squeezing.

“So, uh, how do we-”

He cut off your stammering, gently pressing his lips against yours.

Soft. Tender.

As quickly as he leaned in, he pulled away, your breath frozen in your throat. You wanted

him to do it again. For the kiss to last just a little longer.

He didn’t need to ask for it. Why would you ask for something that already belonged to you?

For him, you’d gladly hand over your first kiss. First anything.

And now, he was in front of you again, a handful of feet away.

Did he not recognize you? Or was he pretending not to?

Why did both feel equally awful?

He glanced over you like you weren’t there, taking the barstool furthest away from you as Satoru grabbed the spare plate and slid it in front of him, playing the part of the proud chef.

You watched his mouth move, no doubt introducing you to Suguru and completely oblivious to the fact you had known him longer than Satoru had.

Suguru nodded along, not sparing you a single look and eating his breakfast unbothered.

Your blood was boiling. Had he always been such a prick? Or were you just naive?

Forcing yourself to focus back on Satoru, you watched him quickly scarf down the rest of his half-eaten pancake, grabbing his plate to plop down in the seat next to you.

“What are you doing the rest of the day?” He asked, one hand fiddling with the fork and the other sliding up your thigh.

“Unpacking my stuff and building the rest of my furniture, I guess,” You shrugged, his thumb tracing little patterns under the hem of his shirt. You didn’t have that much to begin with - your whole life fitting in barely more than a handful of boxes. It’s not that you were a minimalist or anything - it was just that half of your stuff was still left at your ex’s place.

Although, by now it was probably tossed in a dumpster somewhere. Just one of those messy break-ups that left you cutting all the strings and heading out the door with just the clothes on your back. You had snuck back in when he was at work a week afterwards, packing up what you deemed most important and leaving your key on the kitchen table.

“Need any help?” He smirked.

“You? Volunteering for unpaid labor?” You teased, doing your best to pretend that your former best friend and childhood crush wasn’t just five feet away.

“I can think of a few ways you can pay me,” He flirted, his voice dropping lower as his hand ventured higher.

Suguru choked on his pancake - coughing abruptly as both of you turned to face him.

Clearing his throat awkwardly, he refused to look at either of you as he stood up stiffly and tossed what was left of his breakfast into the open trash can and calmly deposited the plate in the sink.

“You okay?” Satoru asked him, brows drawn together in confusion as his roommate made a beeline out of the room.

“I’m fine,” Suguru dryly replied, disappearing into the hallway before he could hear any protests.

Should you tell Satoru that you actually knew him? Would that make things awkward?

Probably.

You weren’t going to just sit here and let Suguru fuck up your life. You waited for him once before - you wouldn’t make the same mistake again.

If he wanted to pretend that you were nothing, a nobody, then that suited you fine. He could be nobody to you too.

“He’s being weird today,” Satoru commented, eyes on the spot Suguru had just been.

“He’s your roommate, not mine,” You exhaled before changing the subject. “Were you really volunteering to help me unpack though?”

“Sure, I didn’t have much going on today anyway,” He said. You didn’t have any way to know if that was actually true, but you weren’t about to turn down his offer.

“I guess I could use your help,” You admitted, his hand squeezing your upper thigh.

“I’m excellent at building furniture,” He boasted, syrup dripping down the corner of his mouth as he took another bite of his pancakes, the fork clinking against the ceramic when he set it down. You sincerely doubted it was a skill he’d ever had the chance to develop. Not when his place looked like an interior decorator had a field day designing a modern bachelor pad.

“I hope so,” You laughed, wiping your thumb over his lips to get the syrup off. He caught your hand, sticking your thumb in his mouth before you could react and running his tongue along the sides of it. His bright blue eyes burned holes into you as he took his time to suck it clean before letting go. “What, you don’t have paper towels?”

“They’re too far away,” He whined.

“Sure,” You smiled. “Whatever you say, tease.”

You listlessly kicked the vending machine, your dollar gone and drink stuck. Exhausted already, the first day of class half-over after spending the morning stuck in boring lecture halls as the professors preached about the importance of the syllabus and mapping out what the rest of the semester would look like. There was a cold patch digging into your side from your bag, the first can of soda that had been successfully dispensed nestled at the bottom - Satoru’s, unfortunately, not yours. Maybe he’d share though considering you bought it for him in the first place. You were about to give up and walk away before a large fist rattled the plexi-glass, unlodging your drink as it fell to the bottom of the dispenser.

“Thanks,” You mumbled, bending down to pick it up before turning around to see your savior. Shielding your eyes from the glare of the sun, you blinked a few times as it dawned on you who it was. “Oh.”

“Can we talk for a minute?” Suguru asked, eyes narrowed as he glanced around.

Like he didn’t want anyone to notice he was talking to you.

“I guess,” You reluctantly agreed, slipping your drink in your tote bag. It landed with a soft clang against the other soda can as you folded your arms across your chest.

“Not here though,” He frowned, picking up on two girls watching your conversation intently from a bench nearby. He was walking away before you could ask where?

Did he expect you to just follow him? Like some lovesick puppy dog?

Forget it.

You started going in the opposite direction, sneakers quietly thudding on the cracked sidewalk, patches of weeds and wildflowers poking through. Whatever game Suguru was trying to play, you wanted no part in.

“Where are you going?”

He unfortunately, hadn’t gotten that message. Irritation bled through his tone, like he was biting back what he really wanted to say. His heavy footsteps had caught up to you, but he stayed behind you, just matching your pace.

“To the library,” You sighed.

He didn’t say anything - and you didn’t look over to see his reaction, if there was even one.

Did he know that you were supposed to be meeting the very person you guessed he was approaching you over?

“Listen, I don’t want to do whatever this is with you,” You said in a quiet voice. “If you want to pretend you don’t know me, that’s fine. I won’t say anything to Satoru.”

“Satoru?” He softly scoffed, almost under his breath.

“Yes, Geto, I won’t say anything to your roommate.” You packed as much venom into his last name as possible, hoping it hurt him as much as it hurt you to say it. Knowing that no matter what happened, he'd probably always be Suguru to you. It was hard not to look back, especially when his silence was so heavy.

“You should stay away from him,” He finally said, his voice strained. “He’ll throw you away once something new catches his eye.”

“Sounds more like you than him,” You snapped at him. Who the fuck was he to tell you who you should or shouldn't see?

After spending most of the weekend with him, you had done your inquiries into Satoru last night, asking your friends about him and unfortunately uncovering more than you ever wanted to know about Suguru too in the process. A two-man team better known for what they could do in the bedroom than in the classroom.

“I know he’s charming at first-”

“That wasn't the first time I met him,” You cut him off, anger flaring as you turned to face him directly.

His expression betrayed nothing - his carefully collected composure perfectly in place while you glared at him.

“I am well-aware of exactly who he is, and I can take care of myself, thank you very much,” You gritted your teeth, pulling your bag tighter across your shoulder. “If all you wanted was to tell me who I can sleep with, please fuck off.”

He blinked a few times, the corner of his lips twitching down briefly.

“Fine,” He muttered, turning around and walking away without putting up more of a fight.

Some friend he used to be.

You were fuming the rest of the walk to the library, pushing open the heavy glass doors with a scowl and scanning over the library to look for Satoru. Not spotting him at any of the tables, you frowned harder, walking over to stand by the wall so you could comb through your bag for your phone. After being held up by the vending machine and Suguru, you were running late. So where was he?

“Boo!” Two hands clamped down on your shoulders, your phone slipping out of your hand as you whirled around to a very smug Satoru.

“Fuck, you scared me,” You hissed in a hushed whisper, bending down to pick your phone and checking the screen protector for any scratches.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” He wrapped an arm around your shoulder, half-leading, half-dragging you over to an unoccupied study room.

“Don’t you have to reserve these?” You mumbled, glancing around at the half-empty library.

A few eyes were on him, not giving you much more than a single glance-over. Chalking you up to his latest flavor of the week.

He flicked on the light and shut the door behind you, flipping the lock and tossing his bag on the scratched-up and pen-stained table.

“Already did,” He grinned.

“Yeah?” You asked. “For studying purposes, right?”

You both knew the answer.

“Of course,” He still lied, making a show of dragging out a textbook and his top-of-the-line laptop.

“Mhm,” You stood next to him, sitting your bag on the table to dig the drinks out of your bag.

Passing one over to him and pretending not to notice the gleam in his eyes as his long fingers wrapped around it, condensation dripping onto his knuckles.

“For me?” He was already cracking it open and bringing it to his lips, a pretty gleam in his eyes as he watched you.

“Two fell out of the machine,” You lied, sitting down next to him and resting your cheek in your hand to hide your blush.

“It’s okay, you can admit you’re already in love with me whenever you’re ready,” He grabbed your chair and dragged it closer until his hip was digging into yours.

“You wish,” You pouted.

“Do you have more classes this afternoon?” He asked, his hand drifting around your side, apparently only content when your thigh was pressed hard against his.

“Just one. Supposed to start in like, an hour and a half, I think?” You started pulling out your own laptop, opening up the screen to type in your password before the screen switched to the five thousand open tabs in your browser.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you watched him tilt back the soda and quickly drain it, the tendons flexing in his neck as he swallowed. Your eyes drifted up to the fine line of his jaw, his lips perched so nicely on the rim before he pulled the now-empty can away.

“Um, what about you?” You asked, flustered.

“I'm done for the day,” He grinned, putting down the drink to direct his focus entirely on you.

That was worse somehow.

You swallowed nothing, your throat parched as you scanned over the tabs to find the one with the map of the university. He leaned down to rest his chin on your shoulder, glancing between the screen and up to your face.

“Where's your next class?” He asked. You pointed to the vaguely-illustrated building neatly labeled and named after some long-forgotten alumni in the bottom left corner. He hummed, tilting his head to the side. “Want me to walk you there?”

“Would you really?” You asked, a fluttery feeling in your stomach caught somewhere between excitement and anxiety.

“Mhm,” He hummed, the fingers on your side digging in a little deeper, one slipping under the band of your skirt. He angled his head so he could press his lips softly along your collarbone through your shirt, dotting kisses up into your throat. You threw a wary look over to the locked wooden door. There weren't any windows, but the walls in here just looked thin.

“They'll hear,” You warned, not even convincing yourself.

“So?” He murmured, the sweet scent of his cologne only clouding your judgment more.

“You think I really want to be known as some girl you banged in a study room on the first day of class?” You complained, pressing your thighs together as he started to suck softly at the skin exposed over the collar of your shirt.

“You’ll just have to keep quiet,” He kept his voice soft, punctuating each word with another feathered kiss. You leaned into it, your hand drifting over to palm the bulge growing underneath the zipper of his jeans, a low moan leaving his lips.

“You’re louder than me,” You laughed.

He pulled back to pout at you, your hand still rubbing up-and-down through the denim. He looked like he wanted to protest your goading smirk, but you held your hands up defensively, twisting your body to face him fully.

“Just come here,” He whined, grabbing you by the waist with both hands now to pull you on top of his lap. You giggled, the fatigue and frustration you had been feeling earlier melting away with Satoru’s warmth.

You had told Suguru you knew what Satoru was like - that you wouldn’t be the first and wouldn’t be the last one to catch feelings for him. But he was so fun it made you forget about it in the heat of the moment.

Nestling your head into his neck, letting your teeth graze against his skin, maybe hoping he’d let you leave a mark of your own.

“Sweetheart,” He mumbled into your hair, one hand slipping underneath your skirt so he could cup your ass while you pulled down his collar to suck a harsh spot on his smooth, unblemished skin. “What are you doing this Friday?”

“Hm? Study, maybe?” You replied, trailing gentle pecks upwards as your own hand slid underneath his shirt and ran over the ridges of his muscled chest.

“There’s a, ah, party then,” He stifled a moan as you slowly grinded against him. “Do you want to come with me?”

You hummed, pretending to think about it.

“I dunno, I’m pretty busy,” You shrugged, his neatly clipped nails still scraping against your skin as his fingers sank into the soft flesh of your ass. “But I guess I could make an exception for you.”

“What an honor to be your date then,” He teased, catching your lips against his, his teeth tugging on your bottom lip as you returned the kiss with the same fervor.

Who wouldn’t say yes to any kind of date with him?

Suguru was just trying to do you a favor.

Sure, the last time Suguru saw you, it hadn't ended well. Still, that was what? Two years ago by now? Even if you weren’t friends anymore, even if it was his fault, he never could evict you from his mind. He knew he hurt you back then, but he didn’t want to see you get hurt now.

He just didn’t expect it to feel so shitty walking away from you.

Was it the thought that if he hadn’t insisted on staying home a couple nights ago like a jackass, he could’ve been the one to bump into you at the bar? Would an apology have worked? Or would he just be attempting CPR too long on a heart that stopped beating?

Suguru knew he was just as bad as Gojo - maybe even worse. Used to letting his friend shamelessly flirt so he could swoop in to play the act of a gentleman.

Still, Suguru hadn't thought you of all people would let Gojo sweet-talk you into anything. But he guessed he didn't really know you anymore either.

If you noticed him slipping into the seat behind you or even cared that you shared an afternoon class with him, you didn't show it. From his spot, he could see a freshly-blooming hickey peeking out of the collar of your shirt.

There was an unfamiliar sinking feeling twisting his insides, the taste of bile on his tongue as he wondered if you were even aware that it was there.

Every time he tried to direct his attention ahead to the professor, the words faded away to a dull drone in the background, his eyes drifting to the back of your head and the tension in your shoulders.

Maybe he should try again after class, find an apology to patch up the bullet would - see if that would make the ache gnawing at him go away.

But as soon as the class was dismissed, you were shoving your stuff in your bag and hurrying out, slipping between the rest of your classmates and weaving in-and-out of his line of sight.

He picked up the pace, people moving out of the way for him as he walked out of the door after you.

“Hi, um, I'm not sure if you remember me, but-” A pretty brunette approached him, cutting off his path to you. He blinked slowly, vaguely recognizing her face but not her name as someone Gojo brought home last month.

“Sure,” Suguru drawled, nodding politely. “How can I help you?”

“Uh, I've been trying to get in touch with Gojo for the past few days, but I haven't heard anything. Is he alright?” She peered up at him with wide-eyes, a small frown on her lips as she twiddled with her fingers.

“Just been busy lately,” Suguru covered for him, patting her shoulder and stepping past her, scanning the milling bodies for another glance of you. “I'll let him know you asked about him.”

“Thanks so much,” She chirped, relief flooding her face as she waved and slipped back into the crowd.

You were already gone.

At least now he had an excuse to ask Gojo about you, even if it was just indirectly.

His roommate was sprawled out on the couch waiting for him when he got back, a pizza box not closed completely on the coffee table.

“How was your day?” Gojo called out as the front door thudded shut, eyes glued to his phone even as Suguru took the seat across from him.

He couldn't help but notice the faintly-visible splotch of purple left on his throat, mostly concealed by the now slightly-stretched collar of his shirt. Easy to miss if he wasn't looking for it.

The feeling returned - even stronger now. A slick pit tearing itself open in his stomach, a tightness in his chest that made it hard for him to think straight.

“Good,” Suguru cooly replied, keeping the childish comment he was tempted to say to himself. “Ran into that girl you hooked-up with last month after class.”

“Really?” Gojo was indifferent, busy typing something on his screen.

“She asked about you since you won't text her back,” Suguru felt stupid even repeating the words, trying discreetly pry the information out of him instead of just being straightforward.

“Not interested,” Gojo shrugged, raking his fingers through his hair. “Told her so much myself.”

“Why?” Suguru hid his curiosity, hoping he sounded bored instead of bothered.

“I’m thinking about giving the whole relationship thing a try,” Gojo vaguely said, readjusting the pillow behind his head.

Suguru wasn’t a complete moron. He was obviously talking about you.

“You’re serious?”

“I’m not sharing this one with you,” Gojo jested, unaware of the discomfort brewing in Suguru’s entire body.

Logically, rationally, Suguru knew he should be grateful, shouldn’t he? He was only trying to save you the heartache of getting your heart shattered or rejected after a one-night-stand with his playboy roommate. But the thought of you coming over all the time, listening to Gojo fuck you through the wall and hear you saying his name after getting demoted back to Geto made him nauseous.

“You just met her,” Suguru pragmatically pointed out. Even though you indicated otherwise, there was no way Gojo would’ve kept his mouth shut about someone he was this interested in.

“Not true,” Gojo sat up with a yawn, stretching his long limbs and tossing the pillow over for Suguru to catch before it smacked him in the face.

What the hell?

“How come I haven’t heard about this?” Suguru pressed.

Gojo's smile was annoyingly smug when his eyes flitted up to meet his, clearly intent on playing coy.

“Wouldn't you like to know?”

div by @/digilatte