˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀ ˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞 college satosugu fic where they play football on the field but tackle in the sheets.
┃Satoru Gojo is a notoriously popular and pompous asshole. After a loss against Suguru Geto’s college, and rejection of his flirtations, hatred and rivalry begin to brew between the two. And what becomes hatred, becomes hate fucking.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ .
︶︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹
key— frat Gojo, Gothic Suguru, nipple piercings, tatted Suguru, frenum piercings, eventual smut, college, Satoru Gojo is a whiny baby, switch Suguru, Switch Gojo, playlist themed, Shoko is a lesbian, internalized homophobia, Suguru is in a band, 2000s ish, closeted Gay Geto, closeted Gay Gojo Geto, hate fucking, hair pulling, degradation, cheating, anal, spanking, anal fingering, blowjobs, minor blood kink, minor exhibitionism, fighting as a metaphor for future sex, casual sex, author isn't even in college, author is american, author is a girl, ADDING MORE KEYS!
i do not have ao3 since im on the wait list BUT ONE DAY WILL ADD TO AO3!
still revising even after post
“So, you like… emo music or something?” Gojo smirked, his eyes purposefully lowering to meet Geto’s lips, catching his own between his teeth.
“Yeah… I like that stuff too like, My Chemical Romance, my favorite song is probably like—“ his sentence was cut off from Geto slamming his locker, his tone deadpan as he slung his bag over his shoulder.
“We’re not fucking Gojo,” he said not even looking at him , turning a heel and fading into the busy hall, leaving Gojo standing there jaw agape like an idiot.
“He probably thinks Im fucking gay!!” He said, shoving himself up out of his chair, before pacing around Shoko’s dorm living room. Shoko’s eyes followed him as he did so, she had always assumed since they were kids, Gojo wasn’t as striaght as he came across, though it was just a matter of time before he came to admit it. Her lips curled as she watched him begin to claw at his hair. She rolled her eyes as she lit a cigarette, letting the smoke exit her lips. “So when’s your first game?” She said, her voice laced in sarcasm. Gojo stopped in his tracks, eyes wide, his fingers still laced between strands of hair. Why wasn’t she taking this seriously?! This was his reputation act stake here! All because he let his guard down!
“What if word gets around?! I won’t get a girlfriend, i won’t have sex ever again, everyone with think Im gay!! I gotta have sex Shoko!!” Shoko turned her head, raising an eyebrow as she puffed another cloud from her lips. Gojo choked.
“Not that— there's anything wrong with being gay!— It's just— I can’t be seen… people—“ He huffed out an embarrassed sigh. “No offense,” He muttered out, a sheepish smirk on his lips, his hands firmly sinking around his neck. A beat of silence passed before Shoko huffed through her nose. “What was even the goal of this interaction?” Gojo’s reaction gave everything away, his jaw dropping as if she had asked for his social security.
“I don’t fucking know?! He’s cool! God forbid I want to meet someone new?!” Shoko’s knowing look only seemed to piss him off more. “I’m serious, it’s not like that!” It always seemed to be not like that with Gojo. The one time he kept revisiting a café to see a specific barista, memorizing his schedule and shift hours. The time he revisited a store, just to see the cute cashier every weekend. That time with the guy at GameStop, the radio store, the mall, and each time he drug Shoko with him, he’d always repeatedly tell her it wasn’t like that, but his eyes always gave it away— his body language, fluid and clumsy… she’d smile behind his back. She knew what he was too afraid to say, and he was afraid of that. “I just… wanted to get to know him!”
Shoko tilted her head forward knowingly, “Then what? Memorize his dorm number?” He scoffed, folding his arms. “I was sixteen. Low blow, Shoko, low blow.” She let out a huff, sitting on the couch in front of him, rubbing her cigarette butt on her ashtray. “Tell me this story again?” He deflated, his expression flatlining before he shook his head, crossing his arms. “It was after training.”
It was Gojo’s first training camp, and in Gojo fashion, he had to be the best at everything. He scored all the goals, hogged the ball, he even drank all the water. What an asshole. Though if you watched him closely, every once in a while, you could see his eyes were on another target, Suguru Geto. He was edgy, all dark and brooding. He saw something he wanted, so in Gojo fashion… he had to have it. Not in a gay way though. He followed him into the main hall, his arms behind his back, his lips curled into a sly smirk, and as Geto made it to his locker, he leaned beside him. He let his eyes glaze over him, taking in his appearance. Snake bite piercings, violet eyes, jet black hair, good muscle tone. Before Gojo knew it, his lips were caught in between his teeth. Not in a gay way though. He let his eyes finally meet his, to which Geto’s eyes glazed over his appearance, brief and quick before facing his locker once again.
“Gojo right?” He said, not even making eye contact. He nodded, a dumbass smile on his face. He remembered his name. “The one and only, and you’re Suguru Geto.” He nodded, trading books from his locker, wrapping his headphones around his neck. Thats when Gojo noticed the black acrylics on his nails. His head raised, letting his eyes meet his once again.
“So, you like… emo music or something?,” his eyes purposefully lowering to meet Geto’s lips, catching his own between his teeth once again before licking them. “Yeah… I like that stuff too like, My Chemical Romance, my favorite song is probably like—“ his sentence was cut off from Geto slamming his locker, his tone deadpan as he slung his bag over his shoulder.
“We’re not fucking Gojo,” he said not even looking at him , turning a heel and fading into the busy hall, leaving Gojo standing there jaw agape like an idiot.
What— the FUCK?! SATORU GOJO, JUST GOT REJECTED?! He looked around the hall, making sure no one heard, all of a sudden the air felt heavy, and tight. Was he about to cry? No. Not Gojo. He let his eyes glaze around the hall, his fist clenching without permission. The hallway seemed louder than before, too many people to read. He couldn’t break down here. Adjusting his bag on his shoulder, he walked his way to class, suddenly very cautious of his own footsteps… and those around him. He searched the hall for familiar expressions, looking for any reason to justify his embarrassment, but when he made it to his desk, he let his head fall on his desk like a child. That was embarrassing enough.
“You’re really fucking gay.” Shoko waved her hand, her head propped up on her other. Gojo turned his head, his face scrunched up in offended confusion. “What— no, I’m not?!— You’re not listening to me, Shoko!” She simply turned her head, letting out an exasperated groan.
“Satoru. You’re fine. Suguru isn’t like that. He’s not the gossip type. I would know I’ve known the guy since we were twelve.” his face began to soften before he let his hands rested on his face, covering his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry— I just…” Shoko shook her head. “Shut up, you don’t need to do that with me.” She leaned against the couch. “Hey. You’re fine.”
Gojo peaked through his hands, nodding, feeling his throat begin to tighten, hanging his head as he swallowed a lump. His head sinking towards his knees. Gojo knew who he was, and deep down, he knew Shoko knew too. He feared everyone knew, and just the idea made his stomach churn. She smiled softly, before slipping a lollipop between his fingers, to which Gojo immediately unwrapped and began to suck on. “Come on ya big baby… want his Instagram?” His eyes widened through his fingers. “Instagram…” he muttered, more to himself… before he sat up in realization. “No! No I don’t want his Instagram!!” He said firmly, though it was more of reassurance for himself. “I’ll send it to you anyway.”
“Why would I want his Instagram? Fuck, he’s not getting a follow from me!” Shoko raised her hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright! I believe you!” She huffed a chuckle before pushing herself up from her knees. “Well, it’s almost lights out. See you tomorrow Satoru.” He scoffed, staring at her as if she just abandoned him. “Can’t I just sleep on your couch..?” He whined almost pitifully, but Shoko let out a laugh, “Bye Gojo.” Gojo stood to his feet, a big pout on his lips as he waddled out of her dorm, “Bye Shoko.”
Dragging his feet down the hall, Gojo glanced at the faces he passed. Some of girls he’s slept with, some of guys of which he could only dream. Gojo knew, who he was deep down. The question was did he believe anyone could love that part of him? Would he allow that part of him to be loved? Fiddling his keys out of his pocket, his head raised as he watched a couple stroll down the hall, tripping over each other's feet, grins stretched wide across their faces as they traded good night kisses, hands placed firmly on each other. One threading the other's hair, one confidently spooning the other's waist. Yet Gojo stood still, almost frozen. His gaze softened… and be swallowed what felt like another lump. As he made it back to his bed, he sank into his sheets before rolling over to scroll on his phone. He huffed, seeing the handle Shoko sent him anyway.
“Thought you might change your mind😜 @ruu_suguru”
She was right. He did indeed change his mind. Huh, Suguru Geto’s Instagram handle. I mean he had it. Would be a waste not to look it up, wouldn’t it? He opened Instagram, and pasted the handle. There he was. In his profile picture. He was in a dark locker room, with the light perfectly glaring down on his sculpted muscles, his arm flexed, and his back twisted enough just to see the curve of his ass. God he was sexy, Gojo had to practically pick up his jaw himself. He began to scroll through his posts, not liking any of course— but as he began to silently stalk him… he remembers—
“This asshole shot me down! Me! Who the fuck does he think he is?! He’s not even that fucking hot. Anyone can have muscles— it’s not even like I like him like that. Im not even fucking gay.” Yet as he continued his internalized-homophobic inner monologue, he found himself scrolling through all his reels. To eventually which he said fuck it, and left a comment on one of his posts.
Wow. Good one Gojo. Feeling proud he tossed his phone to the side and hopped off his bed to start his nightly routine. Mid way through a face mask, not even 30 minutes later he gets a notification— a reply, from @ruu_suguru.
“@blue_eyedangel Big talk from someone’s hiding behind a blank profile.”
Gojo scoffed, his phone in one hand, tooth brush in the other. Holding it between his lips, he typed back.
“@ruu_suguru I don’t need validation from strangers online.”
He tossed his phone back on his bed. How dare he assume he was insecure? He was anything but! Sure he had the looks to go instagram famous, but it’s not like he needed to! He was above that.
“@blue_eyedangel you left a comment didn’t you?”
“@ruu_suguru I don’t need validation asshole. And I’m sure if I did have an account, I’d get way more followers than you.”
“@blue_eyedangel would love to see how that works out💀❤️”
Yeah, they went back and forth for a few hours, they even moved it to dms. And yeah, the next day at practice, Suguru knew it was him who had left the comments. He assumed it was because of how he rejected him. Not that he really cared, Gojo just came off as another pompous whore with a head bigger than his ass. He didn’t pay him any mind. Though he did bring it up.
“Blue eyed angel huh?” Mid sip from his water bottle, he paused, before closing the bottle and turning his head. “What you’re now noticing?” Gojo said matter a factly, but he knew what Geto meant. To which Geto stared at him, his face blank and serious before he crossed his arms over his chest— in which left Gojo very distracted, since now he didn’t know where to look. “I don’t understand. You’re mad cause I don’t want to sleep with you?” That caught his attention.
“Woah woah woah. I don’t like guys. Number one. Number two— if I was… you wouldn’t be my type. Three? No I’m mad you wouldn’t— I wasn’t even trying to— I wanted to be friends with you, but you’re just a conclusion-jumping asshat. Glad to know I dodged a bullet.” Geto’s expression was deadpan and unconvinced. “I hate guys like you.” He muttered. Gojo turned his head, his eyebrows furrowing. Nobody spoke to him like that, and surely not in that tone. “Speak up. I can’t hear you when you mumble.” Geto looked up, turning his head and staring Gojo in his eyes. “You probably think you’re Gods gift to Earth, but you can’t even pull your head out of your ass long enough to notice, none of our teammates like you. Matter a fact, most of the guys here hate you.”
Gojo scoffed, folding his arms. “I don’t see how thats my problem. They’re probably all just jealous of me.” His lips began to curl, his hands now on his hips as he stood proudly, the asshole practically basking in the sun. Geto stared, jaw slightly agape. “You don’t understand do you?” He chucked out a frustrated laugh. “Nobody fucking likes you, Gojo!” He gripped his collar, before pushing him away.
“You hog the ball, you take all the scores. You use all the towels in the locker room?! Don’t you get it? Nobody fucking likes you! Matter a fact, I don’t fucking like you! You’re just another cheap manwhore who wants another ring around your dick!” Geto snapped, pushing him back against the wall of the bleachers, to which Gojo stood infront of him, actually stunned.
A beat of silence passed.
Gojo looked around… before looking back at him. “Who are you talking to?” He huffed out an agitated chuckle. “Cause I know it’s not fucking me.” He took off his helmet. Geto’s eyes began to narrow… the two now butting heads. “Are we going to have a problem? You really want to do this here, asshole?”
“Oh I’ll do it anywhere. I don’t give a fuck.” To which Geto smirked, a vein visible on his forehead. The two peeled off their respective Jerseys, tossing his compression shirt to the ground.
“OHHHHHH!!! YOU GUYS LOOK! GOJO AND GETO ARE FIGHTING!”
That was the last thing either of them heard, their noses bloodied, Suguru taking a punch at his cheek, Gojo retaliating with a strike his jaw, before tackling him head on to the ground, Suguru grinning below him, wrapping a firm hand around his fist, before pinning Gojo beneath him. Before they knew it, they had drawn a crowd. Not that either one cared. Suguru kept going blow for blow, pinning him down with his legs caging him in. With a hand he held Gojo’s arms above his head, staring down at him, victory written in his eyes. “You look like a little bitch right now.” Geto said through a snicker, Gojo spitting blood into the grass, “I’m sure you’d know what a bitch looks like considering you look like one.” Lucky he finished that sentence, Geto pulled his face closer by his hair, lacing his fingers tightly in his locks. “I suggest you shut the fuck up while you’re ahead.” He allowed his eyes to briefly graze the crowd, before looking down at him, releasing his hair and allowing his head to thud against the dirt.
Geto rose to his feet, looking around at the crowd of his peers. He sucked his teeth, wiping the blood off his nose. He wasn’t even able to get three steps in, before Gojo had recovered. Gojo grabbed him by his long locks, pulling him closer. “Who said I was finished?” His eyes were wide and maniac, his grin twitching at the corners. He shoved him foreword, Geto quickly turning a heel, raising his fist. “You just don’t know when to quit do you.”
As the crowd got louder, pulling out their phones to record— a whistle blew.
“Are you two fuckin’ serious?! Geto this is so unlike you! Im so disappointed in you— I can’t even look at you. I can’t. And Gojo, you just fucking got on the team, is this how you two want to represent us? Huh?! Am I going to need to bench my two best players before our big game next week?!”
While Coach Yaga was going off on them in the locker room, Gojo was just watching Geto lick the blood off his lips, wondering what it would be like to do it for him.
“You need help with that?” Gojo smirked, leaning closer, letting his hand cup Geto’s jaw, his eyes dropping towards his lips, watching them curl. “Why? Want to help me?” Gojo huffed a chuckle… his free hand cascading against his against the bench… he leaned closer, slowly closing his eyes, Geto cupping his neck, acrylics sinking into his sink as their lips grazed— before he felt a strike on his head.
Gojo!! Are you even listening to me, boy?!” He clenched his fist. Gojo jolted, pouting as he snapped out his daydream. “I am, I am! Jeez, no need to hit me. We’re sorry!!” Geto shook his head, staring down at the ground. He threaded a hand through his hair before looking up at Yaga. "Look, Coach. We're sorry. Won't happen again." He said the last part, his eyes sizing Gojo. He noticed the empty look behind his eyes and tilted his head towards Yaga. "Oh! Right. Won't happen again." Yaga snarled, not believing either of them for a second. "Get the hell out of here. Go to the infirmary." He waved them off, dismissing them.
"You're even dumber than I thought," Geto said, staring at his busted lip, pulling the skin down to look at the new slit. "I can't believe you managed to loop me into this." Gojo scoffed, shock written all over his face "Huuuh?!" He lifted his icepack off his head, wincing at the cool air. "You fought me too last I recall. You're no genius either!"
"You could have gotten us benched you realize that?!"
"ME?! YOU FOUGHT ME TOO! I THOUGHT I HIT MY HEAD HARD."
"Who the fuck are you yelling at?!— just shut the fuck up. My head hurts."
Geto stared into the mirror, his eyebrow busted, along with his lip, a bruise on his neck. He ran his fingers along his skin, wincing at the tenderness. Gojo had put up a decent fight, despite spending most of the time on the ground. Geto looked over his shoulder, allowing his eyes to fully, rake up his figure. Gojo’s hair was all shaggy and messy, few scratches on him besides the blow taken to his head. Gojo was built pretty well, had a good figure to him. Not to mention those freakishly long legs. “You should be on defense.”
Gojo raised his head. “What? Fuck no." Why would he do that? After all, he wanted to score all the goals.
“What? You’re pretty strong. Don’t be an asshole just take the fucking compliment. It’s probably the only one Im going to give you for a long time with that attitude.”
Gojo huffed through his nose.
“I really, don’t fucking like you.” Geto said, shaking his head as he turned around, facing his mirror again. “You’re cocky.” He said, running a hand along his bruises. “And conceited.”
“Says the one who got his ass handed to him," Gojo muttered.
“Cheap shots don’t rack a big points.”
“Who cares. I busted your lip!!” Gojo clapped back, snickering, to which Geto gripped the edge of the sink. One thing both could agree on they hated to lose. But one thing Geto despised? Was a gloater. He grabbed his jacket, walking towards the door. His hands on the doorknob, he spoke through gritted teeth, “Watch yourself. If anything like this happens again, you’ll be the one with the fucked up lip.”
As Geto slammed the door behind him, Gojo sat in silence.
“Well that was hot as fuck.”
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ .
︶︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹
I HOPE THAT WAS A GOOD FIRST CHAPTER!! if you have any writing tips for me please message me!! VON DUTCH IS NEXT!!
