Surgeon!Gojo is the best at what he does, he’s meticulous, skilled, precise. He’s saved countless lives, travelled all over to get away from home, but somehow despite all his efforts he ends up back in Tokyo. His father is the hospital's largest contributor, not to mention the head chairman on the board of directors, it was only a matter of time before he pulled Satoru back in. The only issue? You’ve worked, strived, for years, to be able to secure your position as a surgeon. Only for your promotion to be postponed because of some hot shot nepo baby. You loathe him.
Surgeon!Gojo seems to be beloved by everyone. Every nurse, every fellow doctor, ever patient. The guys watch him in awe, clapping him on the back and cheer whenever he does anything at all, the women are worse. They fawn and preen, look after him when he walks away, stare at his lips a little too long when he’s speaking. And all he does is grin. You glare, scoff when he says something stupidly clever, and god does he notice.
Surgeon!Gojo never wanted to come back, what he wanted less was to be coerced into working in the same institution as his father. Under his father and his council of people way too involved in his life and career. People who watched him with greedy eyes, who lived vicariously through him. Who bragged about his accomplishments at stupid, overpriced work parties he was forced to go to instead of practicing what he loves. He hates them, every one of them.
Then there’s you. You’ve never once made an effort to get him to like you, or to look in your direction. You come to work everyday since he first met you, the same. You work harder than everyone else, or at least you seem to think so. You stick up your chin and huff and puff whenever he enters the room. You scoff when he speaks and roll your eyes as if his opinion doesn’t matter at all, all the while others gawk and watch him with drool practically hanging off their chins. He’s enticed by you, drawn in despite how you want nothing to do with him.
Surgeon!Gojo does some snooping, and asks all your fellow coworkers about you. Anything he can piece together. That’s how he finds out you're younger than him by a little, but not much. You barely make friendly at work and you like to keep what’s personal separate from what’s professional. And before he arrived, you were up for promotion to lead general surgeon, the spot he now occupied.
After that he starts watching you, observing, he swears he’s not a creep. He knows you have some kind of furry pet, he knows because you keep a lint roller in your locker in the breakroom, and you roll over your scrubs before every shift. He knows you probably have a roommate, maybe a boyfriend given how frequently you’re texting during every break, every time your shift gets extended.
Surgeon!Gojo goes out of his way to get you alone, charms the head of the floor into getting you assigned to his team, something about you needing more ‘hands-on experience’. Oh and the look on your face when you find out those were the words that came out of his mouth? The way you storm up to him, get on your tiptoes to be anywhere near his face. The way yours scrunches up, eyebrows furrowed and a hatred burning in your eyes like you might actually gouge his eyes out. He stares directly back with hearts in his.
Surgeon!Gojo teases you incessantly, you just can’t seem to shake him. He’s like a dog humping your leg. You could be willingly filling out charts at the nurses station and he’ll be leaning over your shoulder, breath fanning against the back of your neck. And it seems you can be doing any basic procedure, drawing blood, checking a pulse, basic verbal exams, and you’ll turn to find him lurking in the doorway. One older woman, Susan, had the audacity to say something along the lines of “Oh the way he looks at you! I love young love.” Satoru wouldn’t let it go for the rest of the day.
Surgeon!Gojo may or may not have allegedly ‘borrowed’ one of your notebooks instead of his, it was a complete mistake, one made in his frenzy as he packed up for the end of the day. The same colour, both just set out on the coffee table in the breakroom. The notes were apparently important, because you got his number from another coworker, and even hastily agreed to go to his building to meet him. Of course when you get to the door he has some excuse that draws you into the door, his penthouse is warmly lit, decorated like a showhome.
Surgeon!Gojo who knows it’s unprofessional, but there’s this undeniable tension that he can’t ignore. Maybe you really do hate him, but when he kisses you, gives you the room to pull back, to cuss him out and call him a creep, you don’t. You grab him by his shirt collar and you pull him closer, and god does it get him going.
Surgeon!Gojo knows more than enough about the human anatomy to find and exploit the spots that make you sigh and moan, where he can just brush his fingers over your skin and have you arching into his touch. He intends to make it good, make it so good that you’ll remember it in the soreness between your legs tomorrow when you go into work covered in hickies just beneath your scrubs, that you’ll be so insanely pissed at him for leaving you in his place before you’ve woken up, and that it’ll all be better when the chief of surgery goes to you to announce your position as the second head of general surgery, his equal, the job you deserved.
A/N : this is heavily just a lil unedited blurb straight from my brain, currently binging a medical drama, trying to get this blog started and any attention this gets will help me put out a series I'm trying to plan, hope you enjoyed :)
