➽─────── choso who needs sex 101 ───────❥
this is very silly lol. hope u like it<3
hand still half-raised from where he’d waved goodbye, lips faintly tingling from your kiss, brain completely unplugged. his ears are red. his neck is red.
“…she kissed you,” gojo says from the couch.
choso doesn’t move. “yes.”
toji leans forward, elbows on his knees, eyes narrowed. “and you’re just gonna let her leave like that?”
choso blinks, slow. “…what does that mean.”
“it means,” gojo says, sitting up, “what the hell are you doing.”
“i walked her to the door,” choso says, defensive now. “we watched anime. we—” he hesitates, quieter, “we had a good time.”
the three of them stare at him.
toji exhales through his nose. gojo drags a hand down his face and geto just looks tired.
“you didn’t fuck?” gojo asks, flat.
“you didn’t even try?” toji presses.
“no!” choso repeats, scandalized. “why would i just—she’s—she’s not—” he gestures vaguely toward the door, like you’re still there, hovering. “she’s not just…that. and i don’t know if she even wants sex, i mean—we—we’ve only kissed a little,” he mumbles out, face burning hotter.
“and,” choso adds, voice smaller now, “she’s so…she’s—” he exhales, frustrated. “she could have anyone. i don’t know why she picked me. i don’t want to mess it up.”
“so you’ve never fucked,” gojo clarifies. “and your plan is to…do nothing forever?”
“that’s not—i just want her to be comfortable.”
“so…kissing?” toji asks. “what, like…making out?”
choso rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “not…not really.”
“so you’ve done nothing except for a couple pecks?” geto runs an exasperated hand down his face. “dude. what are you doing.”
“i feel like ive failed him,” toji says, leaning back and cracking his neck. “have you ever done…anything? with anyone?”
choso looks down, embarrassed. “…no.”
“okay, that’s okay, that’s okay,” gojo says, clapping his hands once. “this is salvageable. we won’t let you fumble her, okay?”
“sex 101,” gojo exclaims grandly, dashing out of the room and stifling through the storage closet and pulling out a giant rolling whiteboard.
“where the fuck’s that from?” toji asks, laughing.
“keep scores for drinking games. anyways,” gojo continues, writing SEX 101 in bold letters at the top. gojo slaps the marker against the board aggressively.
“lesson one,” he declares, writing KISSING in aggressive block letters. “because clearly, we’re operating at…beginner level.”
“i can kiss,” choso says, a little stiff.
gojo spins. “define kiss.”
“…i—” choso hesitates. “i press my lips to hers.”
toji snorts and geto pinches the bridge of his nose.
“no,” gojo says, horrified. “no, no, no. that’s a stamp. you’re not mailing a letter, you’re kissing your girlfriend.”
choso’s ears go even redder. “she hasn’t complained.”
“because she likes you,” geto says gently. “which is the only thing saving you right now.”
gojo draws a very questionable diagram of two circles labeled you and her.
“kissing is not just lip contact,” he continues. “it’s—tempo. pressure. reading her reactions. if she leans in? good. if she pulls back? you stop. you don’t just…hover there like a confused statue.”
“…i don’t hover,” choso mutters.
“you absolutely hover,” toji says.
“i’ve seen you hover,” gojo adds.
“you radiate hover energy,” geto cuts in.
choso looks like he wants the floor to open up and swallow him.
gojo taps the board again. “also, hands. what are your hands doing?”
toji actually laughs this time, low and disbelieving. “you’re telling me you’re standing there like you’re waiting for a school photo?”
“hands are important,” geto says, more composed. “start simple. her waist, her arms, her face if you’re gentle. it shows you’re present. that you want to be close.”
choso nods slowly, absorbing it like it’s sacred info.
“okay,” he says. “hands. not…at my sides.”
he underlines KISSING three times before moving on, far too excited.
“lesson two,” he announces, writing READING HER.
“this is where you stop being dense,” toji says helpfully.
“ignore him,” geto sighs.
gojo points the marker at choso. “you said you want her to be comfortable, right?”
“good. that’s actually the one correct thought you’ve had,” gojo says. “so build on that. you don’t rush. you don’t assume. you pay attention.”
he starts listing things down the board:
• does she linger when you touch her
• does she look at your lips
“these are green lights,” he says. “signals.”
choso’s brows knit. “and if i’m not sure?”
“then you ask,” geto says simply.
choso blinks. “…just like that?”
“yeah,” toji shrugs. “crazy concept. communication.”
“it doesn’t have to be weird,” geto adds. “it can be quiet. ‘is this okay?’ ‘do you want me to…’ that kind of thing.”
choso nods again, and gojo grins.
“lesson three,” he says, turning dramatically and writing ANATOMY.
“do not ‘oh boy’ me, this is educational,” gojo shoots back, already sketching a lopsided pair of tits.
geto immediately stands up. “give me that.” he takes the marker. “you’re going to traumatize him.”
“you’re drawing boobs,” geto says, face bland. “and they’re crooked. at least try.” he sketches something he labels “pussy” (which makes choso wince). “alright, basic overview. you don’t need to memorize a textbook, but you do need to know where things are and what they do.”
gojo crosses his arms. “i still think my version had personality.”
“your version had googly eyes for nipples,” toji mutters.
choso is staring at the board with wide eyes.
“so,” geto continues, pointing. “this is the vulva. external. this—” he taps a smaller point, “—is the clit. extremely sensitive. important. do not ignore it.”
choso nods immediately. “important.”
“very,” toji says. “like, top priority.”
geto sighs but continues, tapping the board again. “the main thing is this don’t rush and don’t treat it like a checklist. every girl is different. what she likes, how fast she wants to go, what feels good…you learn her, not just…this.” he gestures vaguely at the drawing.
choso’s gaze softens a little at that. “learn her.”
“exactly,” geto says, satisfied.
toji stretches. “and for the love of god, don’t go in there acting like you know everything.“
“you speaking from experience?” gojo snickers, which promptly earns him a glare from toji.
they bicker, and choso sits there, staring at the board like it’s a revelation, his friends words looping through his mind.
touch her waist, and lean close. if she leans in too, ask if this is okay, and…and then kiss her. and if she wants to keep going ask her if she’s okay with that and…
choso stiffens slightly. he’s still not quite sure what to do next.
choso stares at his phone later that night, thumb hovering over your contact.
choso: did you get home safe?
you: yeah 🥰🥰 what u miss me already
his ears go red again. it’s a reflex at this point.
you: me too!!! ur so cute
his brain short-circuits, dazed smile drawn on his face.
you: next time i’m stealing more than one kiss btw
his heart does something violent, his flush deepening. he thinks about the whiteboard and gojo’s primitive sketches, toji’s bluntness, how geto explained everything to him calmly.
he thinks about you. how soft your lips felt when you kissed him goodbye earlier, how you smiled at him.
choso: just tell me what you like
you: wow..who coached u 🤨😋
choso huffs a quiet breath.
you: don’t worry lol. i’ll show u
he stares up at the ceiling, face burning hot.
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