Chapter Text
It was a mistake. It didn’t make any sense to spend any amount of time with him. Not just because he was an ex, but because he was Gojo Satoru. He came on like a sudden, spring thunderstorm, engulfing the senses, short-circuiting every rational thought and replacing reason with an obsessive ‘yes’. Dinner at 10 the night before a big work project? Yes. Obscenely sweet French pastries at a new Parisian bakery that opens at 5:00 AM? Of course. Staying in all weekend, drowning in sex and cuddles until she forgot what it was like to exist in her body alone? God, yes. He was eating her alive. She couldn’t function. She was exhausted in the best way, but work didn’t see it that way. Her friends didn’t see it that way. Her family didn’t see it that way. To her closest connections, Satoru was an unwelcome mystery. He spent his time with her or at his job. And there was no overlap between their personal lives. She didn’t know who his friends were, where he worked, or really even what he did. He said he was a teacher at a private school but... she couldn’t find anything about that school. It was exclusive, he said. It was a scam, her friends said.
When he was with her, Satoru had a way obliterating every cautionary word lingering in her head. Even when she was angry, he could side-step her tantrums, slipping into her defenses, making her laugh in spite of herself. But those times without him, those times when he disappeared for days on end, those times reminded her that what they had was limited. Gojo Satoru was the kind of man recounted in stories to prove the wildness and folly of youth, a cautionary tale in stark contrast to the wisdom of the ages - ranks she would join after she settled down with all the responsibilities she was mostly neglecting now.
The longer they were together, the more finite their relationship felt, until one day in a stretch of days where she hadn’t heard from him, she broke down, crying in a bathroom at work, clutching her cell phone. Obsessed was not a good look to have for a man that uncontrollable and unpredictable. That was when she decided to break up with him the next time he contacted her. They met at a café, because she knew, if they were alone, she wouldn’t be able to do it. Watching him slowly stop joking, watching him pull his sunglasses down and stare at her in the harsh light of day, being made to witness that one of the things that brought him happiness -her very self- was leaving him. He shut down. His sunglasses came back up, darker than night, and his whole body language changed. They were strangers in a matter of seconds. He got up and left. And she was left with the memory of touch, his scent, his voice - those pieces of him haunting her in voice messages, in a sleep shirt he had left behind, in the emptiness of her bed.
She had to put all of that away. Delete the messages, his number, the pictures. She put the shirt in the bottom of her drawer, and covered it in old, lazy house clothes. She left her favorite TV shows on as background noise all the time to fill the silence. In time her life re-adjusted. She focused on her job, she hung out with her friends more, she even started to date. Just casually for now. Nothing intimate. She couldn’t handle anything close to intimacy until more of the memory of Gojo Satoru faded.
But how could it fade with him sitting next to her in the quiet bookstore bar that was her private retreat. Even when they were dating, she hadn’t told him about this place or brought him here and that... that should have been a stronger red flag, but it was drowned in the flood of excitement she felt when she heard his voice. After all... it wasn’t totally unreasonable that they would run into each other... at her favorite college-days bar... was it?
“You look good. Guess the break up didn’t have you eating your weight in pastry puffs like I did.” Satoru took the seat next to her at the end of the bar. Early evening on a weekday saw a mixed patronage of the after work crew and students that was just busy enough that no one immediately approached Satoru for his drink order. He angled his body towards her, away from the bartender and other patrons.
She looked up from her book long enough to shoot him a side-eye, sweeping her glance up and down his body. No one would ever know that he ate an eighth of the amount of sweets that he did. There was no evidence of his indulgent sweet tooth on an inch of the lean muscle she knew was under that sharply tailored suit. Why was he dressed like that? It wasn’t completely out of place in this setting, but like him, it was a step too much. Satoru looked like he had walked out of a photo shoot.
“We all cope in different ways.” She shrugged, not sure of how to respond... at least mentally. Mentally, she was confused and a little anxious. She hadn’t seen or heard from him since the break up and his sudden appearance was jarring. Physically, her body reacted like someone had placed her favorite meal she hadn’t had in years right in front of her. Starved and ready to make quick, bad decisions to satisfy that craving. But it hadn’t even been one full month.
“And your coping strategy is what? Moving on flawlessly?” There was a bite to his words and maybe rightly so. She had blindsided him, with no warning, no build up. But how could she have even started to voice her discontent when they only saw each other in random, poorly planned spurts? He showed up without warning, he canceled without notice. He didn’t respond to texts regularly. He ran her life until she had enough.
“Are you trying to start a fight? You could give a January storm a run for the money with that icy exit.” She turned her body to face him, confront him directly the way she would when his jokes went on too long. But it immediately felt like a mistake, he was too close, and her skin ached for the feel of him.
“Should I have shaken your hand first and thanked you for the experience?” He tilted his head just enough for his sunglasses to dip down, giving her a sliver of sparkling blues, one white brow perfectly arched in dry irritation.
“I’m not fighting with you here or anywhere, ever.” She started to stand up, thought she heard him say something but it was lost under the scrape of her chair and the shuffle of his movements as he stood up with her. Something like... You got that right. Did she hear him correctly? Had he even said anything? She tilted her head back looking up at him from an almost point blank range. He was stupidly tall and when she was mad at him she absolutely loathed his height. “What do you want?”
“You.” His sunglasses were still just low enough for her to see his eyes, his determination, like the night had already been decided in his favor.
She scoffed, rolling her eyes, pretending with every ounce of her willpower that he hadn’t turned her on with a simple one syllable reply. Not with this weird, quasi-aggressive banter, and the sweet scent of his cologne, and the way she could just feel his body heat like it was her favorite winter blanket. “We broke up.”
“So? If you’re not seeing anyone, we can fuck, right?” Satoru dismissed the argument immediately.
“That sounds healthy.” She answered dryly. Going to bed with him would be a disaster on every level. ...but extremely hot...
“I’m not hearing no.”
“You’re also not hearing yes.” She shot back immediately.
He stepped back, breaking the tension, taking all those little sensory pieces of himself out of her range. She couldn’t help but frown. He ran his hands through his hair, frustrated, grappling for words. She remembered weaving her fingers through his hair, how soft and fine his hair was.
“It’s been driving me crazy, ever since that day. You came in ready, you had already said goodbye to everything we had, before we even sat down. And I know that I’m not entitled to anything, least of all this, but... But I think you want this too. If you say no, I’ll leave. If you don’t say yes, I’ll leave. But if you do say yes, then we’ll go together. That’s what I want.”
This was... as close to begging as she had ever seen from Satoru. Genuine emotion was a rare expression from him and seeing it made wires in her brain misfire. The smart thing would be to say no, to let them part as strangers once more. But that feeling had been awful. The look of real hurt in his eyes before the sunglasses hid everything. It wasn’t one she wanted to repeat, not when there were so many other, much more wonderful feelings, just waiting at her fingertips...
Shit.
“Where?”
“Anywhere. My place, your place, a hotel. If you wanted an entire penthouse floor, I’d get it for you.” Satoru answered quickly, as if he could materialize a whole hotel right inside the bar.
She scoffed, shaking her head. “No. My place.” Having him over to her place would be the most comfortable. A hotel would be weird and impersonal and his place was almost worse than a hotel. It was clear he didn’t spend a lot of time there. At least her place felt like a home.
“Really?” Both his eyebrows raised, genuinely surprised.
“Yes, why, did you want a hotel?”
“I wanted anything, but if I’m honest... I wanted your place the most. Your place feels alive...”
“Then let’s go.” She ignored the weirdness of that comment and started to move towards the door. There were always one-off things about him, the way he said something, or the stillness that came over him when they were doing something especially mundane, like cleaning up after cooking and eating together.
“Wait. Tell me you want this. Say yes, so I know.” He stepped in front of her, blocking her exit.
“I want this. I want to go home with you, and yes, I do want to fuck you.” The words came out easily, because they were honest, because he was all she could think of at night. Because she had a closet of vibrators and sex toys and all of them left her frustrated and sleepless. Because he had ruined her and she couldn’t say no when he came gift wrapped and begging.
“Ohh? Is that a new kink? Who’s fucking who now?” A broad grin broke out across his face, and the familiarity of it, the comfort of his smile and his teasing was almost heartbreaking.
“Really? You’d let me?” The idea of pegging him made her blush. She couldn’t even begin to imagine... or could she?
“That’s not something I can comment on to someone who’s broken up with me.” Satoru shrugged, turning away, heading for the door.
She could feel the sense leaving her body as she hurried to keep up with his long strides. She was almost next to him, when he dropped back and grabbed her hand, just short of being too fast to comprehend. The sudden movement still caused her to startle and her increased heart rate made her feel just a little silly, especially when she felt how warm his hand was in hers. It was such a simple, natural comfort. Was it wrong to take a little more? To lean into him? To feel protected by him? When she pressed up against him, his hand slid out of hers, his arm wrapping around her shoulder instead, as he lead her out of the bar and into the night. She raised her hand to his, weaving their fingers back together at her shoulder. It felt so good, so perfect. He lead her to his car, helping her in, and for the brief moment it took him to walk around to the driver’s side, she felt the silence, the heaviness, the regret of a tomorrow where she would be alone and her life would stop until he came back. Then he was in the car, reaching for her, like he always did, squeezing her hand.
“Do you want anything on the way?”
“No. Just home.” She closed her eyes, leaning back in the seat. It felt like a fever dream. She had immediately removed any trace of him when she broke up with him and it hurt. It hurt more than she thought it would, more than it should have, or so everyone said. When she described her relationship with him, her friends said it was one-sided, that he was controlling her, that everything happened on his schedule and there was no compromise. Maybe that was true. But that wasn’t the reason she had broken up with him. The reason was how she felt when he was gone. It was like her life was losing its meaning if he wasn’t there, like she couldn’t function until she knew when he was coming back. She never knew and that was what ruined her.
So if Satoru wanted to do a little pop in, if he wanted to try and revenge fuck her for breaking up with him, she would do everything she could to ruin him as much as he had ruined her.