Cowboy!Geto x CityGirl!Reader
A/N: I had a vision of a tortured city girl stumbling across Cowboy!Geto as she’s trying to run away from her current world, and her car breaks down in the middle of nowhere. I love a good smut but I love angst and slow burn more. My longest fic to date, I hope it’s okay. Should I do a part two?
wc: 6.7k
Geto's piercing violet eyes lock onto yours with a mix of curiosity and intensity. His rugged jawline and strong features make him almost imposing. His voice, low and smooth, sends shivers down your spine. “Well I haven't seen you around this part of town. Ya new?” He leaned on the fence, hands pausing around his rope as he examined your face. “You’re too pretty to be a native 'round here.”
Hands tightening around the handle of your mostly empty suitcase, you peer up at the handsome stranger currently blocking the summer sun with the brim of his wide hat. "Umm...hi," you stammer with a nervous glance around the man. "Just trying to get to the nearest town." You keep your voice low and meet his eyes again, a smile already playing on his lips.
A slow grin spreads across Suguru’s face, revealing a dimple in his left cheek. He pushes back his hat, revealing sharp eyes that trace over your features with open interest.
"Town's that way." He nods behind him, not moving an inch. "But you look like you’ve got a suitcase full of nothin’ and ain't from around here. That's a dangerous combo, darlin'."
Your brows knit together as you try to reason what your response should be: do you be gracious or do you be dismissive? You choose to do a little of both. "Well, I'm sure I can find my own way, sir," You shift on your feet before trying to sidestep the stranger, dragging along your suitcase behind you.
His hand suddenly reaches out, gently grasping your arm and stopping your movement. A playful smirk dances on his lips as he leans in closer, his voice dropping to a teasing murmur. "Sir? Now that's just plain rude – I’m not that old. I'm just tryin' to be helpful."
Frowning and quiet irritation building from the summer heat, you raise a hand up to shield your eyes from the brutal sun. "I wasn't being— I was just trying to— “
Before you can finish, he suddenly steps even closer, his other hand moving to your suitcase handle and gently tugging it from your grasp. He grips the handle firmly, his other hand still wrapped around your wrist. "Let me help you with that, darlin’."
Your hand burns where he holds it and you watch in quiet resignation as the handsome stranger hitches your suitcase onto his shoulder. It was really too hot for you to keep lugging around the thing, and if he was so insistent in carrying it...well so be it.
"Stop calling me that," you mumble and pull your hand away softly, rubbing your wrist.
Geto’s eyes flicker to where your fingers touch your skin, and something dark and amused passes through them. He lets you pull away without resistance, but the smirk stays firmly in place.
"C'mon then." He nods toward the road, gesturing with his chin, suitcase still slung over his shoulder. “I’ll walk you into town."
With some distance between the two of you, you begin walking forward with the raven-haired cowboy beside you. No longer lugging around your suitcase, you raise both hands up to your eyes to shield you from the scorching sun.
Geto notices your struggle with the sun at once and without hesitation, his free hand reaches up and pulls off his wide-brimmed hat, plopping it onto your head. It's enormous on you, falling down to your nose and completely shading your face.
You let out a surprised squeak, nearly stumbling as the world goes black for a second. As you push the hat up, your eyes drift over to see him grinning wide as you try to fix it on top your head. "Stop laughing," you grumble and feel your cheeks burn from something totally not related to the sun. After you finally sit the thing on your head without it falling, you look forward and mutter a quiet, "Thank you."
He chuckles, the sound low and rumbling as he watches you struggle with his hat. Once it's finally settled, Geto falls into step beside you again, his long legs easily keeping pace. "You're welcome," he drawls, glancing sideways at you with amusement dancing in his eyes.
The silence of the walk makes the heat feel even more stifling to you, and you let your mind drift. The way this handsome stranger who was definitely too flirty still decided to help you out, made the last half-hour of walking almost bearable. Sneaking a glance down at his swinging hand, you quickly look away but not before noticing the silver rings sitting on relaxed fingers.
Geto doesn’t notice your quick glance downward, but a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth for being the one to stumble on such a cute lamb. It was obvious you were probably from the city with your unprepared luggage and the flimsy clothes sticking to your sweaty skin.
His fingers curl slightly, drawing your attention back to them. He has large hands, strong and rough-looking, with silver rings adorned on two of his fingers.
Clearing your throat softly, you squint as small buildings dot the horizon. "I feel bad," you mutter low and fix the collar of your open button-down, lightly fanning yourself as the breeze drifts by. "I don't even know your name..."
He glances at you, his smirk softening into a genuine smile. "Geto," he says simply, his deep voice carrying easily over the quiet road. "Geto Suguru." His hand reaches out suddenly, gently pushing the brim of his hat further down your nose when it starts to slip.
With an embarrassed sound, you tip your head back and fix the hat, shaking out your hair as sweat clings to your nape. He laughs quietly at the teasing gesture and your reaction, making you huff quietly. Despite his little joke, you offer your name back with a quick glance over, darting your eyes back before Geto can see.
He repeats the syllables softly, your name rolling off his tongue in a way that makes it sound almost too perfect. Suguru’s gaze lingers on your profile for a moment too long before he looks forward again. The buildings are getting closer now, casting welcome shadows on the hot road.
Holding your hands on your waist, you sigh in relief as the first buildings begin to take shape. "Oh thank goodness," you close your eyes and fan your face with one hand. "I think I can take it from here," you murmur and tip your head back to look up at Geto from under the brim of his hat.
He slows his pace, matching yours as you both approach the town's edge. His eyes flick down to meet your gaze under the hat's brim, a mischievous spark visible in their depths. Instead of stopping, he continues walking beside you into town. "You sure about that?"
A surprised panic begins to quietly build as Geto waves at someone smoking on the side of the building. "Huh? I mean, I think so," you mumble under your breath but you can already feel your confidence slipping away. "Why? Should I be worried about-"
He interrupts with a low chuckle, shaking his head. "No, no. Nothing like that." He gestures around with his free hand, suitcase still slung over his shoulder.
"Just... this town can be a bit... unique. Especially to outsiders." His eyes slide to you briefly.
Meeting his gaze, you feel a familiar heat rising in your face again and your breath catches for just the slightest second. "Well...maybe there's an inn I can stay at for a couple days until I can fetch my car?" You pick at your fingers and hide under the wide brim of Geto's hat.
He nods slowly, his eyes lingering on your flushed cheeks before he looks ahead again. "There's not a lot of places around here, but I’m sure we can find you somewhere to stay," he says noncommittally. As you walk further into town, the people you guys pass greet Geto warmly, waving or calling out his name.
"Geto! Making a pit stop in town?"
You feel the curious stares as Geto walks you further into town, his easy demeanor seeming to draw attention like bees to flowers. Keeping your head down, you nearly walk into someone before large hands reach out to steady you. "Oh! I'm sor-" I squeak as I look up to find myself staring wide-eyed into piercing blue eyes behind a low-slung pair of round sunglasses.
The man's face splits into a charming smile, revealing perfect teeth. "Easy there, sweetheart," he says, his voice smooth as honey. His hands linger on your arms a moment too long before releasing you.
Geto steps forward, clapping the man on the shoulder. "Hey, Gojo."
Geto's oldest and best friend, Gojo Satoru, grins back with curious amusement in his eyes before letting his gaze sweep over your frame. "Sorry about that.” You have to crane your neck back to be able to look at the both of them properly, nearly identical in height as they stand next to each other. Introducing yourself in a small, apologetic voice, you offer a small wave and smile.
"So basically an angel~" Gojo singsongs at once, stepping closer with that lazy grin still plastered on his face. "That's a pretty name for a pretty thing." He tilts his head, sunglasses falling further down his nose and somehow making him look even more attractive. "You lost, darlin'?" He side-eyes Geto, who's still holding your suitcase.
Geto rolls his eyes.
"Kinda," you nod and fix Geto's hat over your hair, glancing nervously at him for silent help. Thumbing back at the direction you just came from, you look back at Gojo's bright smile. "I thought I had more gas 'till the next station. It turns out I was wrong..."
Gojo laughs lightly, running a hand through his hair.
"Well, that's a shame," he says, his voice sympathetic but his eyes never leaving yours. "You need a place to stay?" He asks bluntly, his thumb hooking into his belt. Geto clears his throat loudly beside him.
Your eyes widen before you wave your hands frantically in front of you and shake your head profusely. "Oh! I mean I couldn't—Geto's already showing me to-"
Geto interrupts smoothly, placing a hand on your arm to silence you gently. "She's staying with me," he states firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. Gojo raises an eyebrow, his smile turning amused as he looks between the two of you. "Oh really?"
Your eyes widen more at his statement and you open your mouth to dispute him. "I thought you were- "
"—showing you to an inn," Geto finishes smoothly, his hand tightening just slightly on your arm in a silent warning. "And then I decided my place has the best vacancy around." He tilts his head, dark eyes glinting with some unreadable emotion.
Gojo's grin widens, clearly entertained. "Does it now?"
Face heating up exponentially, you glance between the two men helplessly before fanning your burning cheeks. "Well," you huff quietly and firmly pull your arm out of Geto's grip. "I certainly didn't know we were changing plans so suddenly."
Geto's eyes flick down to your flushed face before he looks back up at Gojo, his expression neutral.
"Yeah, well. Plans change." He shrugs casually, reaching up to adjust his hat and messing up your hair in the process. Gojo's gaze flickers between the two of you before he throws his head back and laughs loudly.
Blinking fast and swallowing the lump in your throat, you turn your burning face away and try to take a look around the town in distraction. Gojo's booming laughter has more curious eyes turning your way and you pull Geto's hat further down your nose to hide your face.
Geto's lips twitch as he watches you hide under his hat, but he doesn't say anything. Instead, he turns back to Gojo, who's still chuckling. "You done?" He asks dryly, resting his free hand on his hip and shifting his weight on his legs.
Gojo wipes a tear from the corner of his eye, grinning widely. "For now.”
Reaching over, you grip the hem of Geto's shirt and tug lightly, "Can we keep going now? People are staring." Gojo leans down to peek beneath the rim of Geto's hat and beams a magazine-worthy smile your way. Your face blooms with color as your breath catches in your throat.
Geto glances down at your hand clutching his shirt and then back up at Gojo, who's clearly enjoying the scene a bit too much. "Yeah, yeah," Geto mutters, reaching up to grab your wrist and pull your hand away from his shirt. "Let's go."
"Bye Gojo," you mutter quickly as Geto begins striding ahead, his large hand engulfing yours and drawing more attention. The large hat nearly slips off, but not before Gojo winks and throws up a hand.
"See you later, cutie!" You blush and blindly wave back, stumbling forward as Geto keeps a fast pace.
Geto leads you through the bustling streets, ignoring the curious glances and whispers directed your way. As you both walk, Geto keeps a firm grip on your hand, his long strides eating up the distance.
Eventually, you guys reach a quieter part of town, the buildings becoming more spacious and well-kept. Your hand seems to burn in Geto's, as he doesn't let go until you’re both coming up on a rustic ranch house at the end of the road and he points towards it. "That's my place," he murmurs and you hold your heated fingers to your back as you nod.
“It seems cozy," you comment politely and follow behind his strides.
Geto leads you up the porch steps, unlocking the front door and holding it open for you to enter. The interior is surprisingly warm and inviting, with wooden floors, leather furniture, and various plaques of achievement adorning the walls. He hangs his keys on a hook by the door before turning to face you.
Looking around with curious eyes, you bite down on your lower lip and watch as Geto finally puts your suitcase down. "Thank you, again," you murmur and reach out for the handle, brushing hands with Geto.
A spark runs up your arm and you swallow thickly, remembering in relief that your face still hides under his wide-brimmed hat.
Geto's eyes flick down to where your hands touch before tilting his head to meet your gaze, his expression unreadable. "You're welcome," he replies gruffly, releasing the suitcase handle and stepping back. He watches as you clutch the handle tightly, your knuckles turning white. "Make yourself comfortable."
Nodding quickly, you let out a small sigh of relief before flexing your fingers. "Which room am I staying in?" Geto's lip flickers into a smile as he hooks his thumbs into his belt, relaxing his stance and licking his lips.
"Down the hall, second door on the right. It's got its own bathroom," he informs you, his voice a low rumble. As you start to move towards the hallway, he suddenly calls out, stopping you in your tracks.
"And take off the hat." He adds with a smirk.
Your hand flies to his hat still perched on your head, face turning a bright shade of red as you freeze. "I’ll bring it back," you mumble and turn back to briefly lock eyes with Geto, his violet orbs shining with delight as you feel butterflies in your stomach. Before you can embarrass yourself further, you practically run towards your room and close the door quickly.
Geto watches you disappear down the hall with a small shake of his head, your nervous energy palpable even through the closed door. He reaches up to rub the back of his neck, a soft chuckle escaping him as he realizes how flustered you were.
"Adorable..."
Locking the door, you press your back to the wood and let your head fall back, holding the aforementioned hat to your chest. “He's dangerous” you think to yourself and look down at Geto's cowboy hat. It's white with black stitches at the rim, a stark contrast to his dark hair and quiet persona. "I need a shower," you mutter quietly and shake your head.
As you strip down and step under the warm spray, your mind keeps drifting back to Geto's smirking face and those piercing violet eyes. The way he looked at you when he said "Take off that hat" sends shivers down your spine even under the hot water.
You scrub yourself down thoroughly, trying to erase the way your body responded to Geto's low voice, how it keeps betraying your heart when you should know better. As you step out of the bathroom, you’re positively about to pass out from the heat of the shower when you flop on the cool sheets of the bed.
The bed is soft and inviting, the cool sheets a welcome relief against your overheated skin. You lie there for what feels like an eternity, trying to calm your racing thoughts. Eventually, you hear a soft knock at the door, making you jump.
"Hey," Geto's muffled voice calls through the wood. "I'm gonna make dinner. You hungry?"
Scrambling onto your elbows, you clear your throat and nod quickly even though he couldn't see you. "Yes, please," you call out softly and look to the shadow underneath the door. "I’ll be out in a minute," you promise and glance to your forgotten suitcase by the foot of the bed.
"Alright," Geto replies easily, his boots shuffling on the floorboards outside. "Take your time." He pauses for a moment before adding with a smirk, "And wear something...comfortable." His quick footsteps retreat before you can respond.
Brows knit together, you drag yourself out of bed and pad over to your suitcase. It's a large, heavy thing but barely packed, you had scraped together the bare minimum before leaving your place in the middle of the night. Unzipping the sides and opening it up, your eyes search inside for what to wear.
Inside, the contents are sparse: a few worn T-shirts, some jeans, a couple of button-down shirts, cut-up shorts, and a single sundress at the bottom, covered in tissue paper.
Your fingers brush against the soft fabric and you hesitate. It was a gift, one you never wore.
“Something comfortable,” he said, a voice whispers in your head.
You pull out the sundress.
Slipping it on, you move to the mirror in the bathroom and smooth your hands over the fabric. It's a pretty, yellow thing and it flows in soft ruffles to your mid-thighs. Brushing out your damp hair, you turn in the mirror and throw your hair back, letting out a small breath.
As you appear from the bedroom, the soft fabric of the sundress clings to your curves in all the right places. The yellow hue brightens your complexion and makes your eyes pop but you still tug at the sides of the dress, nervously shifting as you make your way towards the kitchen. Geto is at the stove, stirring something that smells heavenly. He glances over his shoulder when he hears you enter.
The smallest glimpse of something passes in Geto's eyes before he coughs back a sound and you look down at your dress. "It was the only decent thing I had, and I didn't want to wear something stuffy," you murmur as you climb onto the island barstool.
Geto turns fully, leaning back against the counter with a wooden spoon in hand. His eyes travel from the neckline of your sundress up to your face, lingering just a second too long on your bare collarbone. "You look... nice," he says, voice rougher than before. "Not what I expected when I said comfortable." He pushes off the counter and returns to stirring.
You can feel your face heating up again and you suddenly want to go change, feelings of embarrassment rising. Was it too much? "'I’ll go change," you mutter and quickly hop off the stool, making a mental note to also grab Geto's hat when you come back.
Geto's hand suddenly reaches out, his body half turned from the stove and gently grabbing your wrist before you can walk away, stopping you in your tracks. "No," he says firmly but not unkindly. "Don't change on my account. I was just surprised, that’s all." He pauses, his thumb brushing your wrist bone.
"It's okay. I was gonna grab your hat anyways," you avert your gaze and gently push down his hand. Taking a step back, you turn back towards your room and walk away to close the door behind you.
Grabbing the first pair of jeans you see, you slip them on before peeling the dress over your head and putting on a simple tee. Geto's hat rests on the pillow and you grab it while making your way back.
When you step back into the kitchen, you find Geto has moved to the small dining table tucked near the window, plating two steaming portions of food —smothered chicken and potatoes, something that smells like home. He glances up as you approach, his eyes briefly registering the change in clothes before that unreadable mask slides back into place.
"Didn't take you long," he notes flatly, gesturing to the chair across from him. "Sit. Eat."
Hands tightening on the brim of his hat, you swallow and somehow feel worse. With a quiet scrape of the chair, you pull it out and take a seat, setting Geto's hat gently on the seat beside you. "Thank you. You've been so kind today," you murmur and avoid looking up, grabbing your fork.
Geto watches you carefully as you settle into your chair, noticing how you've retreated into yourself again. He wants to say something about the dress but bites his tongue, knowing he probably hurt your feelings. Instead, he takes a bite of food and tries to ease into casual conversation.
"So... how’d you end up here?" Geto's deep voice fills the air and you can feel his eyes on you even as he takes another bite. Swallowing your food, you pause and carefully pull pieces of the truth together.
"I just wanted to drive somewhere new. Thought I had enough gas to get to the next station but it turns out that was very foolish..."
He chuckles softly, shaking his head. "Sounds like fate brought you to my doorstep then," he teases gently, trying to bring back some of that earlier spark. "Or maybe just really bad planning." He smiles and you can see how much more relaxed Geto is now that he’s in the comfort of his own home.
You let yourself smile a bit before taking a bite, pushing down the rising lump forming in your throat. The truth was just beyond the edge of your words and you didn't want to think about why you needed to get away. Nodding at Geto's hat, you try to make yourself amiable. "So, are you an actual cowboy here? Or is it just for looks?"
His eyes crinkle at the corners as he laughs softly, leaning back in his chair. "Actual cowboy," he confirms. His gaze turns thoughtful as he looks out the window at the sun setting over the fields. "Been working on this ranch since I was a kid."
"How long has it been, then? You don't look older than twenty-seven," you comment and take another bite of his delicious meal. The chicken and potatoes warm up your stomach in a way your haven't felt in a long time.
He grins, clearly pleased with the compliment. "I'm twenty-eight," he corrects softly. "Started helping out when I was twelve." His voice drops slightly as he adds, "So yeah, about sixteen years now." Не watches you eat, noting how carefully you're taking each bite.
Nodding slowly, you finish your bite before answering again. "So you were born and raised here? Seemed like you're pretty popular around town." I take in how Geto's long, inky hair spills over his shoulder even as he has half of it tied up in a bun.
"Yeah, born and raised," he confirms, leaning back in his chair to stretch slightly. He's aware of your gaze and reaches up to run a hand through his fallen hair absently. "People around here know me, that's all." He shrugs nonchalantly, trying to downplay his popularity.
A smile tugs at the corners of your lips and you rest my temple on your fist, raising a brow at Geto. "You're funny," you laugh softly and give him a knowing look, crossing your ankles beneath the table.
"Oh?" He smirks, his eyes dropping to your pretty little smile, taking silent note of how your eyes seem to sparkle with a hint of something more. "How's that?" He challenges softly, his voice taking on a playful tone. He leans forward, elbows on the table, mirroring your pose. "Because I'm pretty sure I'm just being straight forward here."
You shake your head and push your food around with a lingering smile, amusement dancing behind your eyes. "You're clearly the apple of everyone's eye around here. Yet you're trying so hard to act as if you're just another somebody," you counter quietly and look up at Geto.
He chuckles low at your observation, his gaze holding yours across the table. "Is that a crime?" he asks teasingly. "Can't a guy just be popular without it going to his head?" He takes another bite, chewing slowly, his mind working behind those piercing eyes.
"Most guys eat that type of attention up," you reply with a shrug, glancing down at your food with little interest. Putting down your fork with a soft thud, you meet Geto's gaze again and narrow my eyes slightly, lips tugging at a grin. "You actually this humble or are you just trying to look meek?"
Geto's smirk deepens, and he leans forward, resting his chin on his hand. His dark eyes gleam with something dangerous and playful. "Meek?" He lets out a low laugh that rumbles in his chest. "Darlin', I got fifteen years of ranch work in these arms and a temper that scares even the horses. Humble's just polite company."
At a loss of what to say, you simply don’t say anything. The silence that follows is charged with heated tension, your eyes holding onto each other as your breathing unconsciously quickens. A long beat of silence passes before you tear your eyes away with flushed cheeks, a soft cough finally breaking the quietly charged air. "Well. Thank you again for dinner," you murmur and push a lock of hair behind your ear.
Geto watches you with a thoughtful expression, his own breathing slightly uneven. He clears his throat softly, breaking the intense gaze as he nods slowly.
"You're welcome," he replies, his voice rough around the edges. He stands up, gathering his plate and glass, his movements stiff and almost uncomfortable.
"I’ll do the dishes. It's only right.” You begin clearing your side of the table as well, making your way around Geto’s broad frame and keeping your eyes to the floor. Placing your dishes in the low sink, you turn on the cold water and try to ground yourself in the labor before you.
"Didn't ask for it, darlin'," Geto's voice comes from behind you, close. The air shifts as you feel his presence take up space in your personal bubble.
Cold water drips somewhere. Then his chest presses against your back, not quite touching, but close enough that you feel the heat radiating off him. "I fed you. Cleaning up's on me."
Breath catching in your throat, you force your hands to stay stable as Geto looms behind you. "I insist, Geto. I'd feel awful for staying here without helping out just a little bit,” you raise your head and catch his reflection already watching you in the window. Your face heats up and you pray he can't see the color flooding your cheeks.
Geto's gaze lingers on the reflection of your face, his own expression unreadable. He steps closer, his chest finally brushing against your back. You can feel the muscles shift beneath his shirt, the hard lines pressing into your softness. "You're already helping out by being here,"
Nearly dropping your plate, you gasp as Geto's large hands cover yours, holding you steady as his breath fans over your neck and shoulder. "You're a little close," I whisper shakily, barely finding the strength to say something rational.
He doesn't step back. Instead, his hands stay over yours, warm and calloused against your skin. "Am 1?" His voice is low, almost a purr against the shell of your ear. "Seems to me you were the one who asked if I was meek. Now you're getting nervous when I stop playing shy." He turns his head, lips nearly grazing your shoulder.
The quiet run of water from the faucet rises around you both, wrapping you in this private little world. "Please don't-" your voice breaks off with a shiver down your back, eyes squeezed tight as Geto gently pulls the plate and sponge out of your hands. "I shouldn't-" you say with a shake of my head, barely breathing right.
"Shouldn't what?" He murmurs, setting the dishes aside carefully. His hands return to yours, turning them gently in his grasp. He notices the slight trembling in your fingers, the rapid rise and fall of your chest reflected in the window. "You're shaking."
The confident pull of Geto's fingers help pull me back to the present but I shake my head again with a more determined breath. "I'm not who you think I am," you mutter softly and extract your hands away from his soothing ones. Turning off the faucet you close your eyes and hang your head forward. "I think I'm gonna go to bed, now."
Geto watches you carefully, his expression turning thoughtful and slightly frustrated as you pull your hands away. He notices the way you avoid looking at him directly, the way your voice is even quieter than usual. "You're running away," He states quietly, almost accusatorily. "From me. From this."
"We hardly know each other enough to warrant such a comment," you mutter a little too harshly.
Realizing how mean you sounded, you let out a sigh of regret and press your palms to your burning eyes. "I'm sorry. It's been a very long day...I didn't mean it like that," you whisper in a shaky voice.
Geto's expression softens immediately at your apology, his frustration melting away like snow under the sun. He steps closer again but doesn't touch you this time, giving you space despite every instinct screaming otherwise. "I know," he says softly. "And I'm pushing too hard."
Swallowing thickly, you feel too wound up to be in anyone's presence. "I can finish the dishes alone," you murmur and slowly drop your hands from your face. "If you just leave it, I'll get it done."
He hesitates, clearly torn between the desire to leave you alone and the need to make sure you're okay. After a long moment, he nods slowly. "Alright," he says quietly. "But if you need anything, just holler, yeah?" He pauses by his door, looking back at you with a gentle, concerned expression.
"I will," you promise softly and give Suguru a small smile. As he disappears into his own room, you finally release the breath you were holding and sag your weight onto the counter. What a day. You let your mind replay the late night escape to the moment just now, realizing how much has happened in the last twenty-four hours.
In his room, Geto leans against the closed door, running a hand through his hair. He's frustrated, but not angry. He knows he came on too strong, too soon. He listens to the sounds of you moving around in the kitchen, the gentle clink of dishes being washed. However, he couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was deeply bothering you as well – not just tiredness or stress but personal. The way you pulled away, the shakiness in your voice...
Taking out his hair tie, Suguru lets his long hair loose and shakes it out before flipping on his bathroom light. I'll shower. Come out. Check on her. And we'll go from there. He nods at himself in the mirror, plan in place, and warms up the water before stripping off his clothes.
As the warm water cascades over his muscles, Geto tries to relax. But his mind is still on you. He finds himself wondering about your past, your fears, your dreams. He's never been one to push boundaries, but something about you makes him want to break his own rules.
Wiping your hands dry on a towel, you hang it up over the oven and head back to your room. When Geto's door opens and he comes out, you nearly bump into his broad chest, letting out a surprised squeak. "Oh! I'm sorry—" Your hands clutch at his arms as Suguru catches you.
His hands reflexively grasp your arms to steady you, his damp hair hanging loosely around his face. He's only wearing a pair of low-slung sweatpants, his chest bare and glistening with water droplets. His eyes lock with yours, searching for any sign of fear or discomfort. "Easy, darlin’.”
"You're uhh—" You look up with large eyes, cheeks flushing as you realize how little he's wearing. Blinking rapidly, you lick my lips in nervousness and force yourself to not look past Geto's collarbone. "Where's your umm – ahem…I'm sorry—your shirt?" The terrible stammer makes the moment a hundred times worse.
A slow, crooked smirk tugs at Geto's lips as he watches you struggle. His grip on your arms loosens but doesn't let go, his thumbs absently rubbing small circles on your skin. "Forgot it in the bathroom," he says, voice deliberately casual. He tilts his head down, bringing his face closer to yours.
"You wanna go grab one for me?"
Shaking your head profusely, your throat dries up at the thought of going into Geto's room to grab his shirt. "I-I'm good," you reply quickly and try to take a step back, forgetting that you were already backed up against the hallway.
Geto's smirk turns into a full-blown grin at your reaction. He leans closer, caging you against the wall with his arms. His sweatpants hang low enough that you can feel the hard V-shape leading down to his... "You sure about that?"
Traitorous eyes dip just once to look at Geto's handsome smile before you catch yourself, looking up quickly to see his amusement only building. "I think I should go now," you try to save whatever little dignity you have left by pointing to your room. As you raise my arm, however, the back of your hand brushes against Geto's bare skin and your eyes widen more at the accidental touch of skin.
He doesn't move away. Instead, his eyes follow the path of your hand against his chest, watching as you try to scramble for any remaining composure. "Your hand's shaking again," he notes softly, his voice dropping to that low, almost musical tone. He catches your wrist gently, bringing your palm flat against his chest. "Feel that?"
A tomato would probably be less red than you are in this moment and your palm seems to burn from where it's resting on Geto's steady heartbeat.
"Suguru," you whisper with trembling lips, eyes wide at the physical contact. "I can't—"
"Shh..." Geto's thumb brushes over your pulse point, feeling your heartbeat quicken. He's barely containing his amusement at how easily he rattles you. "You can't what? Breathe? Think straight? Stop staring at my chest like you want to--"
You clap your free hand to his mouth and squeeze your eyes shut, breathing hard as a terrible guilty voice whispers in your ears. Whore. Slut. Of course you would. Couldn't just wait to jump on the next guy throwing himself at you. Shaking your head insistently, you swallow a strangled cry and nearly sink to the floor on your knees.
Geto's eyes widen at the sudden slap, but he doesn't pull away. Instead, he gently catches your falling form, his hands wrapping around your waist to keep you upright. He pulls your hand away from his mouth, holding both of your wrists tightly. "Hey, hey..."
Trembling uncontrollably in his arms, you bury yourself into Geto's chest as his hands smooth down your back in calming waves. "There, there," he coos gently against your hair, his sturdy body holding you upright even as your legs threaten to give out. It feels like a lifetime before Geto's voices drown out the horrible voices in your head.
Geto's heart beats steadily against your cheek, providing a soothing rhythm that slowly calms your trembling. He continues to hold you tightly, his hands gently rubbing your back in slow circles. "I've got you," he murmurs softly into your hair. "Just breathe with me."
"I'm sorry," you whisper brokenly and gently begin to pull away from Geto once your breathing stops coming out in jagged patterns. Following the rise and fall of his chest, you feel yourself returning back to a calmer state of mind.
"Nothing to apologize for," Geto says quietly, his hands lingering on your waist even after you've pulled back. He looks down at you, his expression thoughtful. "You okay now? You had some kinda panic attack there, didn't you?" His thumbs rub small circles on your lower back instinctively.
Nodding quietly your keep your eyes locked on our feet, too afraid to raise your eyes in case the voices come back.
Geto waits patiently, letting you gather yourself. He can still feel the tremors running through you, but they're getting weaker. "Hey," he says softly, voice gentle. "Look at me." His fingers tilt your chin up gently, forcing your gaze to meet his. "Whatever's going on in that beautiful head of yours, it's not real. You're okay right here. With me." He swallows.
Eyes searching his, your hands tighten at the sides of Geto's sweatpants and you feel how wound up your chest is. "I'm right here. With you. I'm okay," you repeat in a low whisper and Geto nods in quiet affirmation, fingers pushing back your fallen hair. You chant the words again and close your eyes, pushing away any other thoughts.
"That's it," Geto whispers encouragingly, his thumb continuing their soothing circles on your lower back. "Just breathe. Just be right here with me." He leans down slowly, his forehead resting against yours. "You're safe. You're okay. You're with me."
He doesn't quite hold you but Geto doesn't pull away until you swallow and pat his chest with a more stable hand. "Thank you," you murmur and lift your head, peering up at him through your lashes.
Geto straightens up slowly, watching you closely. He's aware he may have crossed a line here, but he doesn't regret it. Seeing you panicking like that... it made something inside him twist painfully. "You're welcome," he says gruffly, his hands falling away from your waist.
A part of you wants to explain to him that this has never happened so strongly before. That you're not crazy, that the voices always chastising you for your behavior aren't always so loud. All the words wait on bent knees at the tip of your tongue, ready to jump out if you let them. But you fiddle with your fingers and keep your eyes fixed on Geto's collarbone, "Goodnight, then..."
Geto hesitates, seeing the unspoken words in your eyes. He wants to push, to demand answers, to make you tell him everything that's going on in that pretty little head of yours. But he also knows that pushing right now would only send you running. So instead, he nods curtly. "Night, then."
Giving him a small wave and the ghost of a smile, you trudge to your room and close the door softly behind you. A terrible sadness and shame washes over you, embarrassment flooding your senses at the memory of the panic attack. Gosh, you can't even go one day without doing something stupid.
Geto watches the door close behind you, his expression unreadable. For a long moment, he just stands there, his mind racing. Then, with a heavy sigh, he turns and heads back into his room, closing the door firmly behind him. He leans against it, his head thumping back against the wood. "Fuck."
