nerdjo almost didn’t come to the party.
he stood outside the frat house longer than he would want to admit, phone in hand, rereading the message where you said you’d be there.
he never goes to parties, hates socializing with more than two people at once, and especially hates the taste of alcohol.
but here he was.
tipsy in an overcrowded room, music pounding too hard, lights blurring together in a way that made his head buzz.
he had a frown plastered on his face, a quiet, lingering displeasure he couldn’t shake.
where were you?
you’d said you’d be here.
so he came too.
maybe you were just late. that was normal.
still, he lingered by the wall, watching the doorway like it might reward him for his patience.
another drink appeared in his hand at some point. he didn’t remember asking for it. he drank it anyway.
it tasted bad.
his glasses slid down his nose more than once. he pushed them back up with a distracted tap, missing the bridge the first time.
then he saw you.
you looked beautiful. like always. but especially now, cheeks flushed from a few drinks, laughing at some lame joke your friend was telling.
his jaw tightened.
he pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek, a quiet tsk slipping out before he could stop himself. his gaze lingered too long, sharp and assessing, something dark flickering behind his glasses.
…and you were with… another guy?
something twisted in his chest. bitterness swelled in his stomach, and it wasn’t the alcohol.
he wanted to shove past the crowd, grab you by the arm, and pull you close. demand your attention. make you stop laughing at anyone else. his brain screamed that he shouldn’t. he wasn’t in his right mind. the last thing he wanted was to push his feelings on you.
but still… the thought of someone else touching you, making you laugh, being closer to you than he was
he couldn’t stand it.
so he started moving toward you.
slowly. casually. his steps were deliberate, like he owned the space between you two even before you noticed.
he reached your side and tapped your shoulder lightly, just enough to startle you. “hey,” he said, his voice low and teasing, almost lazy. but there was an edge there. “i was wondering when you’d show up.”
you turned, and he let his grin spread, the kind that made him look dangerous and ridiculous at the same time.
“there you are,” he murmured, leaning just a little closer than necessary
enough to make sure you felt him there.
“i was starting to think i’d have to come find you myself. “
“so,” he said, rocking back on his heels
“you look like you’re having fun.”
his eyes flicked toward the guy you’d been standing with before settling back on you. like he’d already decided he didn’t like the answer.
“yeah,” you said easily. “i just got here. i ran into-”
“oh?” gojo tilted his head, lips curling into a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “ran into someone, huh.”
he took a sip of his drink, grimaced immediately, then pointed the cup vaguely behind you. “that guy?”
you blinked. “what guy?”
tsk.
there it was again. quieter this time, but unmistakable. he pushed his glasses up, thumb lingering at the bridge a second too long. “the one you were laughing with. he seemed… friendly.”
you laughed. “he’s just a friend.”
“right,” gojo said quickly. too quickly.
you shrugged. “he was telling me about his major. something with business-”
“okay,” gojo interrupted, smile stiff. “i kinda really don’t care.”
you raised an eyebrow. “wow.”
“he was actually really nice, he—”
gojo leaned in.
not aggressively. just enough that his presence cut you off mid sentence, his hand coming up to rest on the wall beside your head, trapping your attention whether he meant to or not.
“hey,” he said, quieter now, pout tugging at his lips. “stop.”
you froze.
his brows knit together, glassy gaze locked on yours, annoyed and needy all at once.
“i don’t wanna hear about him,” he muttered. “kinda ruins my night.”
he straightened abruptly, stepping away from you just long enough to reach for another drink off the table beside him.
“hey-” you started.
“i’m fine,” he said quickly, already taking a sip. then another. his shoulders were tense now, irritation rolling off him in quiet waves. “just… thirsty.”
you watched him for a moment. the way his fingers curled too tightly around the cup. the way his gaze refused to meet yours.
“gojo,” you said gently, touching his arm. “you hate drinking.”
he shrugged you off with a huff. “yeah, well. tonight’s annoying.”
that earned a look. “annoying?”
he glanced at you, eyes sharp behind his glasses, then away again. “too loud. too many people. bad vibes.”
another drink appeared in his hand
you sighed, already knowing where this was going.
before he could take a sip, you reached out and gently pushed the cup down. “okay. that’s enough.”
he blinked at you. “hey.”
“no,” you said, firm but kind. “you’re not getting more drunk just because you’re in a mood.”
his brows knit together, pout forming almost immediately. “i’m not in a mood.”
you tilted your head. “you’re sulking.”
he opened his mouth to argue, then closed it. his gaze flicked, once again, toward that same guy.
“…maybe,” he muttered.
you softened, stepping closer. “c’mon. let’s go.”
“go where?”
“home,” you said simply.
his head snapped back to you. “home?”
you nodded. “yeah. you look miserable. and i’m not babysitting you here.”
for a split second, something calculating passed over his face.
then he relaxed.
“yeah,” he said, nodding once. “okay. home sounds good.”
too good.
you narrowed your eyes. “that was too easy.”
he shrugged, lips tugging into a small, satisfied smile as he leaned closer to you again, voice dropping just enough to be private.
“well,” he said, “you didn’t say whose home.”
then, quieter
“…and i’d rather be alone with you anyway.”
no drinks. no frat guys. just you.
the night air hit him the moment
it was quieter out here. cooler. the music muffled behind closed doors, replaced with the sound of your footsteps on the sidewalk.
gojo walked too close to you, his shoulder brushing yours, and his weight leaning slightly on you for support.
in all honestly, he could manage to walk on his. but he couldn’t pass up the chance to have you close.
you hadn’t even gotten half a block when he stopped walking.
you felt the tug immediately, turning back just in time to see him step in front of you. his hands came up, hesitant for half a second before one of them settled at your waist, the other brushing your sleeve like he was asking permission.
“what’s up,” you said softly.
he leaned in anyway.
eyes flicking down to your lips like he’d been thinking about it, this all night
you pressed a hand to his chest before he could close the distance completely. “no.”
he froze. blinked. “…no?”
you smiled, but shook your head. “you’re drunk. i’m not kissing you while you’re drunk.”
his brows pulled together instantly, pout forming like it was second nature. “i’m not that drunk.”
“you tried to drink away your jealousy,” you said flatly.
he sighed, forehead dropping forward until it rested lightly against yours. “so if i wasn’t,” he murmured, voice quieter now, almost hopeful. “you would?”
you hesitated on purpose.
tilted your head. pretended to think.
“hmm,” you said. “i don’t know.”
his grip tightened just a little at your waist. “don’t do that.”
“guess we’d have to see,” you finished, smiling.
he groaned softly, pulling back just enough to look at you, utterly offended. “you’re evil.”
but then he straightened, slipped his hand into yours instead, fingers lacing like he’d decided this was non-negotiable.
“fine,” he said. “then i’ll just sober up faster.”
his room smelled like detergent and coffee grounds. textbooks stacked too neatly on his desk. bed unmade, but clearly used. it felt him in a way that made your chest tighten and your heart quicken.
he kicked off his shoes before collapsing on his bed with a grunt.
“okay” he grumbled. “maybe im just a little tipsy.”
you laughed softly. “you think?”
he looked up at you then, glasses slightly crooked, hair a mess, eyes bright and honest in a way he usually tried to hide. “but i meant it.”
“meant what?”
“that i wanted to kiss you.” his voice was slower now, words deliberate despite the alcohol. “i wasn’t joking. wasn’t just saying it because i was jealous.”
you crossed your arms, leaning against the desk. “gojo-”
“i know,” he interrupted, gentler this time. “you said no. i’m listening.” then, quieter, almost vulnerable, “just… don’t think i didn’t mean it.”
your chest ached at that.
you helped him change into something more comfortable, guiding him onto the bed when his balance started to go again. he grumbled about it, but didn’t resist, letting you push his glasses onto the nightstand and tug the blanket up around him.
he curled toward you when you lay down beside him, arm draping loosely over your waist like muscle memory. his breathing evened out faster than you expected.
you slept for a while too.
but seeing the clock read 2 am, you decided it’d be best to leave before he woke up and regretted anything he said.
you carefully slipped out from under his arm.
quietly grabbed your jacket.
quietly turned toward the door.
“don’t.”
you froze.
gojo’s voice was rougher now. clearer.
you turned slowly.
he was sitting up, hair falling into his eyes, gaze locked on you in a way that made your stomach flip. no haze. no wobble. just him.
“you’re leaving,” he said. not a question.
“you fell asleep,” you whispered.
“yeah,” he replied. “and then i woke up.” he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood, steady on his feet now. “come here.”
his tone wasn’t loud.
it didn’t need to be to know you messed up.
you hesitated, fingers tightening around your jacket. “gojo, you were asleep. i didn’t want to-”
“don’t,” he cut in.
one word. sharp enough to stop you cold.
he took a step closer. then another. slow.
like he was making sure you understood he wasn’t unsteady anymore
that this was a choice.
“you were just gonna leave,” he said, jaw tight. “without waking me up. without saying anything.”
you swallowed. “i didn’t want to make it awkward.”
his lips pressed together. a humorless breath left his nose. “too late.”
he stopped in front of you, close enough that you had to tilt your head to look up at him. his eyes searched your face, irritation flickering there.
“you climbed into my bed,” he said. “you let me hold you. you stayed.”
his hand came up, not touching you yet, just hovering near your wrist like he was holding himself back. “and then you thought you could just disappear?”
“i thought it was the right thing,” you murmured.
his gaze hardened.
“for who.”
it wasn’t a question.
you didn’t answer fast enough.
his fingers finally closed around your wrist, warm and steady. not tight. just firm. grounding.
“look at me.”
you did.
“i told you i meant it,” he said quietly. “i told you i wanted you. sober or not.”
his thumb brushed once over your pulse, like he could feel how fast it was racing. “and you still decided for me.”
you shook your head. “you were drunk.”
“i’m not now.”
the room felt smaller. quieter. his presence filling every corner of it.
“if you wanted to leave,” he continued, voice lower now, controlled but edged, “you should’ve woken me up and said it to my face.”
he leaned in just enough that his words brushed your ear. “don’t sneak away like i don’t matter.”
your breath hitched.
his grip loosened, but he didn’t let go. “so i’ll ask you again. properly.”
he pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, expression unreadable but intense.
“are you leaving,” he said, “or are you staying with me.”
you didn’t answer right away.
not because you didn’t know.
but because the way he was looking at you made it hard to breathe.
gojo noticed.
his jaw flexed, a muscle ticking as he waited. patient, but barely. like he was giving you space with sheer willpower alone.
“are you going to say something,” he murmured.
you licked your lips. “i wasn’t trying to hurt you.”
his eyes dropped.
just for a second.
to your mouth.
then back up, darker now.
“i know.” his voice softened, but not by much. “doesn’t mean i liked it.”
his hand slid from your wrist to your waist, settling there with intent.
his other hand came up, fingers curling under your chin. gentle pressure. undeniable direction. he tilted your face up until your eyes locked.
he leaned in.
not all the way.
close enough that you felt his breath. warm. steady. controlled.
“i’ve wanted to kiss you all night,” he said. “even when i was annoyed. especially then.”
your chest tightened. “then why don’t you?”
his lips twitched, but it wasn’t a smile.
“because i need you to stay,” he said. “not just stand here.”
your breath came out shaky. “i am staying.”
his forehead dropped to yours, noses almost touching. “don’t leave me like that again,” he said quietly. “say it to me if you’re going.”
you nodded. “okay.”
he searched your face one more time, like he was committing the answer to memory.
then he kissed you.
carefully at first.
his hand stayed firm at your waist, anchoring you there while his other thumb lingered under your chin, guiding you just enough that you couldn’t look away.
he exhaled against your mouth, a quiet sound, almost a sigh.
your fingers slid into his shirt without thinking, bunching the fabric at his sides. the second you did, his grip tightened at your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left to pretend this was casual.
he pulled back slowly, eyes dark behind his glasses, restraint written all over his face.
“if i keep going,” he said quietly, “i won’t stop.”
your heart was pounding so loud you were sure he could hear it.
before you could second-guess yourself, you pushed him back onto the bed.
he let you.
the mattress dipped beneath his weight, and then you were moving, crawling onto his lap like instinct had taken over before logic could catch up. he shifted just enough to brace himself on his arms, shoulders relaxed, chin tipped up as he looked at you. he looked beautiful.
the sight was provocative really.
the way he watched you made your pulse stutter.
his lips were stained red with your lipstick, mouth still parted like he hadn’t quite recovered. his glasses had slipped down to the bridge of his nose, and behind them his eyes were sharp. predator like. every bit the opposite of the introverted, awkward gojo you thought you knew. this version of him… he wanted you, and he wanted you aware of it.
he leaned forward just enough that his mouth brushed your ear, words low, almost a whisper. “careful,” he murmured. “i’m letting you have this.”
“but don’t forget,” he added, breath warm against your skin, “i’m the one choosing not to flip you over.”
you shivered, caught somewhere between disbelief and thrill
and then… his tone softened, his lips brushing your temple as he tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. “…we’ll talk in the morning,” he murmured, voice suddenly shy
“rest up for now… but don’t think you’re getting away from me tomorrow.”