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Geto loves his job.
The fact that he managed to land such a prestigious job as a fresh university graduate was a feat in itself.
Many of his peers are still searching for a callback despite completing countless hours of internships and spending months applying after graduation. Some did manage to secure jobs, such as he did, but the pay and benefits were abysmal. He refused to settle for a job like that. He didn't spend countless sleepless nights studying, juggling a part time job to scrape together enough money to pay for tuition, and dedicating himself to hours upon hours of unpaid internships just to settle.
His plan at the time was simple.
First, he needed to work his ass off in high school to get accepted into a prestigious university. Then, work his ass off in university to land a position at one of the best financial companies in the country. After all is said and done, he'd then work his ass off to land one of the top positions and live the rest of his life in comfort. Take a vacation every now and then, wake up and decide to splurge on a case of a limited edition blind boxes just for fun. Spoil his cat rotten, perhaps adding another kitten to his happy little family. Maybe, maybe, have a family of his own to make his parent's dreams of having grandchildren come true. But that's on the bottom of the list.
Before all the good stuff could happen, he needed the job.
Of course, trying to work for one of the best financial companies in the country came with a few setbacks to his plans.
The first—becoming an academic weapon.
There was no room for even half a point off any exam. He had to get full marks, nothing more, nothing less. His time for any social life was very limited, even at times denying offers from his parents to travel back home during breaks. His poor parents were very understanding but still very much missed their son. Yet, incredibly grateful for the friends Geto managed to make during his time in university. They constantly called Haibara to pull Geto’s head out of the books and his best friend was happy to do so.
The second issue was the low acceptance rate.
If he thought getting into university was difficult, getting into Six Eyes Enterprises was an understatement. He spent hours scrolling through countless online forums about the company, of ex-employees, of those who failed the interviews, what they want, what they don't want, you name it. He compiled all his research into creating the perfect resume and cover letter.
He swore he almost cried in happiness when he received a call back to come in for an interview.
Geto recalls the stuffy suit he wore, the collar of the button up feeling too restrictive, how sweaty his palms were after scrambling to neatly collect his papers of endless recommendations he begged professors for. He was sure he blew the interview when he forgot to wipe his sweaty palms before shaking one of the interviewer's hands.The ticking bomb of anxiety in his stomach immediately exploded when he caught the flash of disgust on the woman's face before it was quickly replaced by a strained smile.
Geto desperately wished the floor would swallow him whole when she swiftly pulled her hand away after a single shake, pulling a handkerchief from her blazer pocket, wiped her palm, and then disinfected it right in front of him.
At least he had other job postings bookmarked, as much as it hurt to think about moving onto plan B. Well, the concept of a plan B, but a plan either way.
Geto did end up crying tears of happiness when he got the job.
Everything was going according to plan.
That's the keyword, was.
Maybe it was the fact that it was going a little too well. His initial timeline had somehow been cut short, his final goal rapidly approaching.
Geto managed to win the approval of the majority of the company, quickly moving up towards higher positions. He received constant praise from the CEO himself, even being promoted on the spot.
He'd done everything right. For once, all those thoughts of just giving up were just silly memories, silly little ideas he had when he was running on thirty minutes of sleep.
Everything was nothing short of perfect.
Except this one little thing, or rather an unnecessarily large someone.
He still remembers the first encounter with Gojo.
It was right after a grueling financial proposal—one that had taken months of preparation and more over time than Geto cared to count—had finally been accepted. A project proposal that was led by yours truly, of course. There was a silent tradition put in place for team leads to treat their fellow members to a hearty meal after a successful project.
Geto walked behind his team, a tired yet joyful expression on his face, his juniors excitedly chatting as they joked about running up their manager's credit card after choosing yakiniku.
It wouldn't be too harsh for his wallet. His salary was decent than the usual average. He could afford a nice meal or two, and even buy himself unnecessarily expensive clothes. Though, he would rather save for the next step of his plan, an extensive vacation without worrying about any sort of budget, booking the most lavish meals and excursions for working ten years straight.
He supposed he should start browsing travel sites, since everything was going so well. Maybe something outside of Japan, something where he could dig his toes in the sand, water lapping at his feet. Then later he'd go do his two hour deep tissue massage with the ocean side view, ending it off with an expensive, multi-course dinner.
Geto just had to successfully lead a few more projects, just a few more to hear the words-
“Ah! Geto-san! I'm glad you haven’t left yet. There's someone I would like for you to meet.”
Quickly snapping away from his daydreams, he straightened up at the sight of his boss, Noamasa Gojo.
He was quite the intimidating man.Taller than the average Japanese man, which was saying something considering Geto wasn’t exactly small himself. So imagine his surprise when he saw an equally, probably even taller, large man next to his boss, perhaps he could be the carbon copy of his boss's younger self if it weren’t for the striking blue eyes that were noticeable from his sunglasses.
“Geto-san, I would like for you to meet my son, Gojo Satoru. He's decided to join the company and follow in the steps of his old man.” He boasted almost proudly, one hand on his son's shoulder, “But before he can reach that far, I would like for him to work under you in the meantime. Of course, growing up with this business, he knows a little more than your typical newbie intern so don't go easy on him just because he's my son.” Noamasa finished with an intimidating smile, one that is reminding Geto that Gojo is still his son. “Please treat him well.”
“I've heard quite a bit already of you from my father. I've rarely heard him praise someone highly that is not me,” Noamasa's son spoke, tilting his head as he gave Geto a once over. “A bit rare, I must say.”
Oh, he’s one of those.
That pulled a laugh from Noamasa. “Well, he led yet another successful proposal that got accepted within not even an hour. Certainly an ace within this company”
Gojo hummed in amusement,reaching out his hand towards Geto, an award winning grin stretched on his face that could win the hearts of many.
“It'll be a pleasure to start working with you, Geto-san.”
His son couldn't be much younger than Geto. White hair, shining blue eyes that seemed to hold all the seven seas that were hidden from a pair of dark shades, and a face that looked almost unfairly put together by the gods themselves. The sort of face that could get away with anything, even with the weakest excuse that could easily be caught on by a child.
He was smiling, polite and sincere at first glance, yet there was a mischievous glint in his eyes. Geto had plenty of experience reading people–whether it was figuring out how much he needed to sugar coat things for a client or judging exactly how long his day was going to be from the look on his subordinates’ faces after already reading through the preface of their next project. And even as he spared them a side glance now, he noticed how several of them immediately fixed themselves, abandoning the relaxed posture they had moments earlier before the two showed up.
Geto gave him a firm shake with a matching smile.
“Pleasure is all mine, Gojo-kun. ”
And just by reading by this guy, he knew he was going to be nothing but trouble.
“Ah, Geto-san,” his boss started, looking behind Geto to see his team huddled behind them whispering amongst themselves at the newcomer, quickly straightening up as their boss stared right at them. Noamasa let out a chuckle as he waved at the group before turning back towards Geto. “Are you going out to celebrate?”
Geto nodded in confirmation, already having an idea where his boss was leading towards. “Tonight’s request was yakiniku. They already decided on the spot before we even got started on the project.”
“That’s perfect.” His boss grinned, patting Gojo’s back. “Why don’t you let Satoru tag along? It’ll be a great way for him to get to know everyone.”
It wasn’t a request, anything that his boss says goes. No one ever dared to go against his word, and those who did had to clean their desk the next day. Well, it’s just one extra person, his team was usually considerate of choosing a decently priced place. They weren’t total vultures draining his card of its funds.
One of his subordinates popped up from behind him, happily nodding. “Of course, Gojo-sama! I–we—would be happy to have him attend!” She smiled shyly, a faint blush appearing on her cheeks as she played with her hair, gazing up at Gojo. “No worries about bringing your wallet, Gojo-kun! It will be Geto-sama’s treat! Team leaders always pay for meals after a project approval. It’s tradition!’’
“Aren’t you a ray of sunshine?” Gojo smiled down at her, eyes peering over his glasses, making her blush turn darker as she giggled. “Yakiniku, right? Lucky for me, it’s one of my favorites. I know a few places with the best quality meat.” Gojo then turned his gaze towards Geto, blue eyes piercing right through him. “You wouldn’t mind me choosing the place right, Geto-sama?”
Not even five minutes of meeting him and it's already begun.
“Not at all, Gojo-kun,” Geto responded smoothly, ignoring the change in honorifics. “It'll be a great way to get to know everyone he will be working closely with.”
“Oh, please.” His boss reached into his back pocket. “I am imposing my son so suddenly onto your plans. Let me pay this one-”
“Father,” Gojo cut in, placing his hand onto his father’s to stop him from pulling out his card, his tone light and teasing, “You and I both know we don’t approve of breaking traditions. Surely you don’t want to start now with a simple dinner?”
Noamasa paused for a second, raising an eyebrow at his son who just smiled at him in return. He clicked his tongue, giving Geto an apologetic look as he closed his wallet. “My apologies, Geto-san. I got put into a tight spot here.”
Well, it was nice to think about saving a few thousand yen. As much as he would like to wish Gojo was a kind soul, taking into consideration that this a complete stranger paying for his dinner, that he would have any sort of mercy onto his card, the glint in those blue eyes tells him otherwise.
Geto waved his hand. “Who am I to go against traditions?” He bowed towards Noamasa. “If you don’t mind, Gojo-sama. We must get going before rush hour starts.” He then turned towards Gojo, who was looking rather pleased with himself, it already irked something inside of him.
“Shall we go, Gojo-kun? What do you have in mind?”
Geto feared badly for his wallet. He should’ve seen this coming.
“Ah, Geto-san,” his colleague whispered next to him, side eyeing Gojo as the other happily ordered some rather expensive cuts of meat. “Are you sure you don’t mind paying for this yourself? This place isn’t exactly cheap. We could split the bill.”
Oh, he knew. He knew the second he opened the menu and discovered that the cheapest item on the menu was 1,500 yen for a simple fruit juice. The first blow came when they first arrived at the restaurant, Gojo looking at him with the biggest smirk on his face as the rest of the team stared at the extravagant entrance in awe.
“I can’t treat my team to a nice meal every now and then?” Geto said, brushing off any sort of worry that was left on his face despite him wanting to pull his own hair out when he heard Gojo mention multiple plates of A5 wagyu. “You all have worked hard, Yaku-san. Please eat to your heart’s content.”
Yaku’s eyebrows furrowed, wanting to push more before he was swiftly cut off.
“So nice of you to say that, Geto-sama. I’m glad to know I will be working with such a rewarding manager,” Gojo cheered happily, resting his head on his palm, mischief written all over his face. “The staff is already familiar with me so I took the liberty of choosing some of my personal recommendations. Don’t worry about dessert, I already ordered that as well.”
The plates didn’t take long to arrive, an array of meats and sides sitting all along the table. Geto had to admit, it looked absolutely mouth watering, his stomach rumbling. Not even a second longer, everyone dug in, excitedly putting the meats onto the grill, chatting away of how amazing it already smelt. The moment the meat was done cooking, it was immediately eaten, moans of happiness and glee rang all along the table.
“Gojo-kun, you have amazing taste!”
“I didn’t think I would ever step into a place like this.”
“Thank you, Geto-sama for the meal!”
Despite it being one of the best meals he has had of late, he can’t let Gojo see his look of satisfaction. He felt the smugness a mile away as the other was looking for a reaction.
“Ah, it looks like this first round didn’t even last!” Gojo laughs, waving his hand in the air as a signal for the server to come back to take yet another order right away. “You don’t mind if I order more?”
Almost like children waiting for their parent’s permission, his team whipped their heads towards their manager, giving him borderline puppy eyes.
Geto sighed, it wasn’t like he was allowed to say no to Gojo’s demands anyway. Maybe being on Gojo’s good side would earn him some favor with his father. He doesn’t even recall a time where someone went against his boss’s wishes. Or maybe they didn’t stay long enough to tell.
Before he could even give any indication of yes, Gojo already beat him to it. “Great.” Not even sparing him another glance, he turned towards the server. “Could we have another round of…well…everything!”
Geto had to stop himself from pinching his forehead. Why bother asking him?
First thing about Gojo, Geto learned, is that the man radiates no shame, absolutely none at all. Years ago when he first joined the company, he’d been afraid to ask for something as simple as an extra side dish, petrified that his manager would think he’s some sort of moocher and he would be packing up his desk the next day.
Yet, here Gojo was, asking for his usual drink that seemed to contain more sugar than anything and yet another round of food. Geto was already thinking on what to cut from his usual grocery bill and self indulgences to make up for a quarter of what he knew the bill was going to look like.
He let his colleagues bombard Gojo with a multitude of questions after a few rounds of meat and drinks in their system. Of course, it wasn’t as if his boss had ever hid the fact that he had a son. On the contrary, Noamasa was more than happy to boast about his supposed prodigy. Top of his class, somehow naturally talented without even trying. He’s been given a collection of awards, and if it wasn't for his family’s wealth, he would've earned enough scholarships to attend any university his heart desired, practically anywhere in the world.
Geto was sure his boss had given Gojo some sort of headstart after finishing his studies, considering he’d skipped several entry-level positions and placed directly into his team that he had helped carefully select. Yet, his boss was more than happy to have him work underneath him.
No struggle, no countless hours of staying late in the office to prove something, and no years of climbing positions. He’s practically a nepo baby, surely he didn’t know that much. Practically getting a golden ticket just because his father was the CEO.
Geto took that as an opportunity for a kind of informal pop quiz, asking him question after question, even throwing in some hypothetical scenarios, some that he has personally dealt with. Even some of his colleagues pitched in a word or two, turning it into an impromptu interview.
Gojo didn’t even seem fazed. He answered them smoothly, and even arrogantly. Of course he did. Gojo knows he’s in a class all on his own.
By the end, when there was nothing left to ask, he leaned back in his chair.
“C'mon, is that all?” he asked smugly. “My father asked me harder questions than that. Is this supposed to be a challenge? I’m going to have such an easy time with you, Geto-sama.”
Geto’s jaw tightened. He’s good.
As much as he would hate to even admit it, he was rather…impressed by his answers. Some of Gojo's answers were sharper than he expected, some that he wouldn’t have thought twice.
Don’t get him wrong, it’s not like he dislikes Gojo. He just dislikes his attitude. But telling how well Gojo actually knew about his work, he would be an impeccable asset to his team.
He supposed he’d deal with this brat, anything to get himself closer towards his end goal. So he just nodded in approval, giving him a warm smile only to earn a smirk in return.
Oh, how he would love to wipe the smug look on his face.
But he knew it was only the beginning for their newfound acquaintanceship.
The night went on smoothly after that. Gojo was happy to talk more about himself, and even showed some surprising interest in the others. Before it could even reach Geto’s turn, the server was already back with the bill.
“Ah, so sorry Geto-sama!” Aoi bowed her head. “I didn’t give you a chance to talk about yourself.”
“A shame! Maybe next time,” another colleague added. “Geto-san is so interesting to get to know about–”
“Don’t worry,” Gojo replied calmly, reaching for the bill. He let out a quiet whistle at the total before sliding the check holder towards Geto.
“I probably know more about him than anyone here,” Gojo added lightly, grinning as he peaked over his frames and winked at the other.
The statement earned puzzled looks from around the table, even from Geto himself. Before he could even question what on earth he could even be talking about, Geto opened the bill holder and went still.
There were quite a bit of numbers, more than he was comfortable with.
“Geto-san…” Yaku began after a long pause of silence, “How much-”
“Don’t worry about it,” Geto cut in with a cough, snapping the folder shut before anyone else could peer over. He was already dreading pulling out his card. “I hope everyone enjoyed their meal,” He finished with a hesitant smile.
“I definitely did,” Gojo mussed, idly playing with his chopsticks, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “I’ll make sure to work extra hard for another meal like this, Geto-sama.”
Geto really would love to wipe that look off his face.
Everyone knew Geto as a patient man. Even the toughest, most annoying clients rarely fazed him. He tried not to let things stew for too long and simply let bygones be bygones . Maybe it was because he knew he wouldn’t have to deal with them forever. Within the short time frame he spent working with them, he knew he wasn’t going to interact with them every day, and once a project was said and done, chances were he’d never have to see them ever again.
What a damn shame it wasn’t the same with Gojo.
Ever since that dinner months ago, Gojo had done nothing but test that very same patience. Geto wouldn’t go as far as to call him the most infuriating person he’d ever met, but the man was certainly fighting for the top of the list.
It first started with small, mundane things. Things that shouldn’t have bothered him nearly as much as they did.
The start of it was popping into his office unannounced. Interrupting video calls with important stakeholders or clients with his persistent knocking on the door whenever he locked it. He would ask the simplest of questions when a quick text could have been sufficient enough.
Sometimes he would walk in to ask for a pen. A pen.
Nevermind the fact that there was a storage office that was fully stocked with any office supply people could ask for. The damn storage closet that was also closer to Gojo’s desk than Geto’s office.
After a few times, Geto refused, tired of having to replace his pens almost everyday.
“We have a supply closet for a reason, Gojo-kun. Please make use of it.”
Gojo clicked his tongue, placing his hands on Geto’s desk as he leaned closer, a slight pout on his face.
“But Geto-sama,” Gojo started, his hand sliding across the desk towards the pen Geto had been holding in his hand before his writing came to a stop once the younger barged into his office. “Your pens are much nicer, be a kind soul and lend it to me? I promise I'll give it back.”
This gave him a better look of his face.
Up close, it was very easy to see why everyone was so easy to drop everything and do whatever Gojo wanted. Pretty blue eyes that caught his attention from the first time he met him. Framed with thick, long lashes that had half the women in the office convinced he used some sort of serum or black magic to make them look so perfect. Paired with sharp features and snow white hair that always looked effortlessly styled and a smile that could make anyone swoon.
His eyes couldn’t help but to look down at his lips, which were shiny with some obvious lip balm, making them look soft and perfect.
He wondered what they would feel like.
The spell was immediately broken by the smug look spreading across Gojo’s face, as if he noticed exactly how long Geto was staring. From there, he remembered that attached to this unfairly attractive face was one of the most self-conceited brats he has ever met.
Geto straightened up, loosening his grip on the pen as he handed it over. “Let this be the last time, Gojo-kun.”
It was, in fact, not the last time. And Gojo has not given it back to this day.
Don’t get him started on the random video calls that would pop up in his chat. Complete, random calls just to ask him simple yes or no questions.
Could he ignore him? Of course. Unfortunately, the one time he decided to ignore one of Gojo’s ridiculous calls somehow happened to be the one time the younger man had an actual, legitimate question. Little did he know when he swiftly rejected the call, Gojo was with his father–his boss.
Which earned him a surprise call from Noamasa himself.
“Geto-san! I’m surprised to see you not answering your calls. That is rather unusual for you. Did you see Satoru’s?”
Needless to say, Geto had the misfortune to answer every one of Gojo’s stupid calls after that. Sometimes he felt like the younger one deliberately planned that moment.
Even during weekly meetings, he couldn’t catch a break. It’s not like there was assigned seating, but everyone usually sat in the same seat every week. So imagine his surprise when he walked into the conference room, greeting everyone with his usual polite smile, only for his eyes to zero in on a certain 190 cm giant sitting comfortably in his unofficial chair.
Chatting away with everyone else in the room without a care in the world.
Gojo knew Geto couldn’t tell him anything. Who was he, a manager, someone that is supposed to set an example to his colleagues, going to complain about the CEO’s son taking his damn seat. It wasn’t even assigned, he’d just look like he’s throwing a tantrum. And per usual, Gojo looked at him with all the arrogance in the world, that infuriating smirk plastered across his face.
It was almost impressive how consistently Gojo was dedicated to finding new ways to get under his skin.
The most irritating part about it was Gojo only ever seemed to do it to him.
Everywhere he walked, he could hear what a great asset Gojo is, how he’s been nothing but a positive impact to the company. Maybe others are only saying that just because of who he is and his influence. Afraid of what could happen if they ever got on Gojo’s bad side. He himself tried to be as neutral as possible. Not giving into Gojo’s every whim and request, but not being outright rude either. He treated him the same way he treated everyone else. The only special treatment he received was getting whatever he wanted during dinners after presentations, running up his credit card.
And sure, Geto could agree with that to an extent. However, the man was nowhere near a positive addition for his sanity. Sometimes he’d fear that his reputation as the office’s most patient man would snap.
Geto has tried very hard to be pleasant throughout the months, pretending that none of Gojo’s behavior affected him. Sure, Gojo is very capable in his skills, far better than the majority of the newer employees. So imagine Geto’s frustration every time they sat through a team meeting, reviewing projections and discussing strategies, only for Gojo to nitpick at every single input that he had. No, he wasn’t opposed to his colleagues adding in their own two cents, he was welcome to any perspective and suggestions. He even encouraged it.
Gojo seemed to just want to question every single thing. More than necessary.
It was until one meeting Gojo really pushed him. And in front of Noamasa, nonetheless.
Gojo sat across the table, doing the exact thing he always does in team meetings, picking him apart as if they hadn’t spent the entire afternoon the day before reviewing it.
“Gojo-kun,” Geto began, trying his hardest to keep his voice even, but his face clearly expressed otherwise. He even forgot his boss was even in the room. “Since you are very knowledgeable,” he continued, cocking his head as he offered a tight smile, “why don't you give this presentation yourself.”
The room went still and quiet. His colleagues stared at him with wide eyes, a surprised look on their faces. Even Noamasa was mildly surprised, one eyebrow raised.
In a split second, Geto felt a flicker of regret, realizing the small predicament he just put himself in. Still, he refused to look away from Gojo.
To which, the other didn’t look mad, just caught off guard. In fact, he swore he saw a genuine surprised look on his face before it disappeared. A grin spread slowly across his lips as he stood up.
“Sure.”
And of course, Gojo laid it out flawlessly. Typical. He didn’t know why he hoped for anything less.
The meeting continued on as normal with no other issues.
Geto swore it was his last day on the job the moment it ended as Noamasa walked up to him to pull him aside. His colleagues quickly rushed out the conference room, whispering amongst themselves. Gojo, of course, followed them without a single word, which was a bit unusual behavior from him. Geto half expected him to look pleased with himself, smug at the fact he managed to make a small crack inGeto’s facade in front of a crowd. Instead, it was surprisingly neutral, gaze lingering on the two before darting away, disappearing through the door.
“Geto-san,” Noamasa began, genuine concern in his voice. “You seem to be…off lately. Is everything alright? Not just from inside the office but…outside?”
Great.
He put on his best smile, Geto nodded. “Everything is fine, Gojo-san. Just…having some car troubles. Might need a new one.”
It wasn’t entirely a lie. He’d been meaning to get a new car since the constant service is driving him up the wall. Not nearly as much as his boss’s son, but it wasn’t like he was free to say as such.
Noamasa hummed, only partially convinced. “Listen, I was a bit surprised you had Satoru take over. Usually when you want someone to have some practice, you have them lead the whole meeting, and not just midway through.”
Geto suppressed a wince. “Well I-”
“You know what?” Noamasa waved a dismissive hand. “It doesn’t matter. I thought he did a great job. I would actually like for him to lead the rest of this project if you don’t mind.”
All he could do was blink at his boss. Surely he’d missheard.
“Lead…the rest of the project?” Geto asked, brows furrowed. “As in take my place?”
“Of course he’s not going to be the manager!” he laughed, patting Geto’s shoulder. “You’ll still be in charge, just think of yourself as an…overseer. Make sure everything is in line. Just let Satoru do all the heavy lifting for this one. You’ll just be there for moral support.”
Geto stood there in place for a fat minute, even long after Noamasa left.
The remainder of the project went well as Noamasa predicted. Is he surprised? Unfortunately, no. Should he be surprised? Also no.
He did as he was told, letting Gojo take responsibility over the remainder of whatever was left of the work. Geto had spent the first few weeks hovering over, ready to step in and clean up anything that got too out of hand. It was frustrating to want to put his hands into the process as well, only for Gojo to remind him–a little too happily he may add–on who was in charge this time.
Technically speaking, he was still the manager, he was still Gojo’s superior, yet he had no control over the questionable paths that the younger was leading it towards. Some he would say were a bit reckless, that even his own father wanted to interject as well.
But ultimately, what Gojo said, went. And throughout the entire process, Geto rarely had to step in, only needed for a question or two, or his perspective on something. Everything ran smoothly under his lead, and of course, clients were unusually receptive to him, agreeing to almost anything he said. Most likely hoping to get on this attractive man’s good side as a hope for something more after everything was said and done.
Oh if only they knew what he had to deal with on a daily basis.
Gojo’s little antics didn’t stop the moment he had some sort of leverage over Geto. If anything, he could bet it only encouraged the younger even more. Gojo didn’t outright rub it in his face at the fact he was the main lead, but he sure did love to emphasize it.
It just infuriated him even more.
Once the final presentation rolled around, the contracts were signed before an hour had passed within the meeting. Another successful project for Six Eyes Enterprises, all praises going to Gojo from both colleagues and upper management.
If everything had gone according to his silly little life plan, this should’ve been the project that could’ve given his track record the final push towards a lead director. Yet, Gojo was the one promoted instead. Making him one of the youngest leads in the company, almost at the same superior level Geto was.
And Geto was still stuck at his same position, just a simple “Good job for not letting the project go astray.”
Geto was ready to end the day, ready to go home, soak in the bath for an hour or two, and have his own pity party on the couch with his cat for comfort.
“Geto-sama!” Let it be Gojo to delay yet another set of plans. “Aren’t you coming to celebrate with us?’’ Gojo clicked his tongue. “Since I was the lead this time, dinner is on me!”
Stupid pretty face.
“Ah,” Geto said, a tight smile on his face as he waved the group off. “I wouldn’t say I had much participation.”
Aoi popped out from behind Gojo, his stupidly large frame managing to hide some of their colleagues. “But Geto-sama! We can’t celebrate without you! You were just as important as usual!”
“She’s right, Geto-san. We couldn’t have some of the numbers without your input. It wouldn’t be right to go without you.”
With multiple of his underlings agreeing in unison, begging for him to go, Geto ultimately gave in.
“Alright, alright.” he chuckled, actually feeling somewhat better after the comments put some patches onto his poorly bruised ego. “Let me just go get my coat.”
That earned happy cheers from the group, all of them eagerly excited for the dinner waiting for them, especially since it’d be Gojo’s choice once again, so obviously it was going to be good.
As everyone huddled into the elevator, Geto and Gojo being the last ones about to step in, Gojo stopped Geto with a hand on his shoulders, leaning down to whisper in his ear.
“I could've solved those numbers in less than thirty minutes, but you looked too much like a kicked puppy. I took pity on you,” Gojo whispered, a light tone to his voice. Geto tensed immediately, feeling his blood pressure rise. “Besides, I loved you sitting in the corner and having you as my eye candy instead.”
Gojo walked into the elevator, grinning wildly.
“C’mon Geto-sama!” Gojo said joyfully, as if nothing happened, leaving Geto in disbelief right behind him. “We don't have all night!”
Has Geto ever mentioned he wanted to wipe that brat’s smug look on his face?
Geto wasn’t much of a drinker. He's not exactly a lightweight, but he manages to handle his liquor well. If anything, he probably drinks a few times out of the year, and even then, it’s only a glass or two. He isn;t the biggest fan of the consequences that come right after a night of drinking. Hangovers are truly what he despises.
Tonight, however, he had the immediate urge to drink to his heart's desire.
And that’s what he would do.
Paired with his favorite plate of soba were a few empty glasses of alcohol that he downed easily within the short time.
“Wow,” Yaku said, blinking in surprise. “I don’t think I've seen you drink this much, Geto-san!”
“It’s a special occasion," Geto replied easily, finishing the last sip that was in his glass all while trying not to grimace at the strong taste. His head already felt pleasantly light, that familiar feeling where he knows as he gets up the world is going to spin right round.
He tips his empty glass towards Gojo, a smile on his face. “Gojo-kun has successfully led his first project. I think that calls for another round of drinks, no?”
Without waiting for a response from the younger, Geto took the initiative to wave down the server to gladly order a round of drinks for everyone at the table, earning happy cheers at the sound of free drinks.
He didn’t have to worry about the cost, he's not the one paying tonight anyways. That’s Gojo’s problem. One he will happily be a part of.
Gojo looked almost amused at the way the scene unfolded, a smile tugging at his lips. Geto felt his eye twitch.
Of course, he didn’t have to worry about spending a fortune, he’s stupidly loaded.
By now, he lost count of the amount of drinks he’s had, yet, his drunken mind could count the amount of times Gojo had caught his gaze. Everyone was busy laughing and talking amongst themselves and sure, Gojo chimed in every now and then, lazily sipping from his mocktail as if he had no care in the world.
There were a few times where he couldn’t keep his eyes off him, making Geto take in every detail. The worst part is when Gojo would stare back, a knowing look in his eyes as he refused to break contact first. He hated the way it made him quickly heat up, his eyes darting to look at anything else but those ocean blues.
Gojo was attractive. He had already accepted the fact the second week of him being there, unable to convince himself that Gojo was anything but. The restaurant had a warm, low lighting, giving him almost like a natural face filter. The lightning softened the sharp features of his face and made the younger’s eyes stand out even more, as bright as the north star in the sky. Truly a model that got stuck behind a desk.
Even his damn hands were unnaturally pretty, big yet still looking soft and slender, much like a pianist's hands.
Honestly, he wouldn’t be surprised if he could play the piano. He’s already boasted on how he can play instruments that Geto didn’t even know existed.
Not only is Gojo stupidly talented, but naturally smart too? Quick to solve problems that could’ve taken a group of individuals to do. Brimming with confidence to take over the attention of the whole room without even a touch of hesitation. Don’t get him started on how he can charm over any client when they were being too difficult for even Geto to smooth talk over. Sometimes he could feel himself getting charmed with them.
Geto blinked mid-thought, He gave Gojo a little too much credit. He glanced down at his drink.
Maybe he should slow down. His face definitely felt warmer than before. Alcohol burning up in his stomach, making his skin feel hotter than anything.
Definitely not the way Gojo smirked at him. Or the way that the younger kept brushing against him here and there. A hand settling on the older’s shoulder a little too long whenever he wanted his attention, even keeping it there until someone changed the subject. Gojo’s thumb absentmindedly moved back and forth during that time. Even making sure to reach for the same thing as Geto as an attempt to brush their hands together.
“...Geto-san?”
Geto realized all eyes were on him.
“You've been staring pretty hard at Gojo-kun. Is everything alright?”
Fuck. He was really out of it, wasn't he? He couldn't even explain himself without sounding like a complete weirdo.
Geto cleared his throat, pulling at the collar of his shirt that suddenly felt too-tight. Even if he wasn’t drunk right now, his face would already be burning up from embarrassment. “Everything is fi-”
“He’s probably worried I'll replace him permanently,” Gojo interrupted with an arrogant grin, idly stirring at his mocktail. His chin rested against his palm. “I haven’t even been here a year and I already outshine the supposed company's star employee.”
It was quiet at first before there were a few awkward laughs that went around the table.
“Though…” Gojo sighed, locking his gaze with Geto. “It isn’t easy watching someone much younger and definitely much more capable doing your job better than you can.”
Geto abruptly stood up, palms slamming against the table, rattling every tableware. The table went silent, stunned looks from across the table at the display of their supposedly patient manager.
“Excuse me, I need to use the restroom,” Geto said finally, strangely calm unlike the tension written all over his face.
The table remained silent as Geto’s chair screeched against the floor, whispering began as he walked away from the table. He felt the consequences of standing so abruptly, his head catching up to the many drinks he had downed in that short amount of time. His head started to swim as the room spun against his own will. Even so, he forced himself to look somewhat composed as he stormed towards the restroom.
He could feel the vein in his head throb as he heard another screech of a chair and a faint, “Gojo-kun wait! Maybe you shouldn't-”
Geto shoved the restroom door open, spooking a gentleman that was in the midst of washing his hands. He said nothing as he slightly stumbled towards the sink and gave the man a look through the mirror, which immediately made the old man quickly shake the water off his hands, not even rising off the rest of the soap as he hurried out. Geto grumbled under his breath as he turned on the facet, splashing his face with cold water in hopes to sober up just a bit to calm the pounding of his head.
Geto didn't bother to look back up once he heard the bathroom door open less than a minute later, walking up behind him. He could already tell who it was by the faint reflection in the mirror.
“You’ve already given me enough of a headache tonight,” Geto grumbled, continuing to splash water onto his face. “Go back outside, Gojo-kun.”
Gojo scoffed from behind him, “What crawled up your ass?”
Geto froze, a short, humorless laugh leaving his throat as he met Gojo’s reflection in the mirror. “Are you kidding me right now?”
He turned to face him fully once he saw the younger's eyebrow raise and his arms crossed.
“Do you know how much of a pain in the ass you've been?” Geto jabbed his finger directly against the center of Gojo's chest. “Ever since you got here, you’ve done nothing but make my life difficult.” He began to poke at his chest. “You can’t get your own damn pens, steal my seat, barge into my office like your name is on the fucking place.”
Gojo interrupted, “Technically-”
“Shut up,” Geto hissed. “You question every fucking decision I make, steal a project that was supposed to help me get fucking promoted and somehow outshinedme. It infuriates me how stupidly smart you are, and of fucking course you’re arrogant, spoiled, insufferable. Even your annoyingly handsome face, prefect fucking body. You plague my damn dreams and I need you to just fucking act like a fucking normal human being and stop being so goddamn perfect.”
Geto was breathing heavily at the end of his rant, waiting, daring for the younger to challenge him with anything else.
Gojo said nothing for a moment, his expression unreadable as he stared into Geto's angry eyes. Not even a second later, he broke into that stupid, fucking smug grin. “So you think I’m hot?”
Geto for a moment, in another world, would have loved to think he had successfully punched Gojo and left the bathroom.
Yet, instead he grabbed a fistful of Gojo’s shirt and pulled him in for a bruising kiss.
It was messy and completely uncoordinated, their teeth clashing as the kiss deepened. Without fully breaking apart, they managed to stumble into the nearest stall. Gojo, being the only sober one, managed to lock the stall door before Geto had him pinned against the wall, slightly lifting him from the ground as he put one of his legs in between the younger’s thighs, grinding against him. One of Geto’s hands had a grip on Gojo’s jaw, the other on his hips while Gojo buried his hands into Geto’s long hair, trying to pull him as close as possible.
Maybe it's his drunken mind, or maybe even the months worth of bottled up frustration. Whatever it was, Geto never felt more alive until this moment. He's never felt this much excitement from all the years of working for his stupid, extensive plan.
He could taste the lingering, sugary drinks that Gojo was been drinking the whole night. Geto didn’t find himself enjoying anything sweet, yet the way he can’t get enough of it from Gojo’s tongue, it was more intoxicating than any of the alcohol he drank that night. God, he could eat him alive if he could.
Nevermind the fact that anyone could walk into the restroom at any moment and could probably guess what was going on by the loud noises they were making. Nor did it matter that his coworkers were only a few tables away and can just as easily start looking for them. The consequences of these actions didn’t exist at all, especially when Gojo was moaning and moving his hips against his so desperately.
Gojo was the one who broke the kiss with a gasp mixed with a loud moan as the older moved his hips with more intent, a string of spit connecting their lips. Geto, with no intention of stopping, moved to mouth at Gojo’s neck, even going as far to yank at the top few buttons of his shirt harshly, not a care in the world as the shirt ended up ripping a bit in the process.
He could feel something building inside of him, a feeling of satisfaction as he could see the marks blossoming on the pale neck. His hand moved to slide under Gojo’s shirt, moving upwards to fondle at his chest, running his thumbs at the other’s nipples.
Geto could only imagine how the younger would look underneath him, preferably without all these clothes that were preventing them from going even further. He could finally do what he's always wanted to do to Gojo. Stripping any sort of arrogance and brattiness from the other, having him cry and beg underneath him, finally giving into Geto’s commands.
Gojo cursed as Geto bit him hard from having his mind run wild, moving his hips back into Geto’s in an automatic response, pulling hard at the long raven locks. That pulled a groan out of Geto, which only prompted him to move his hips roughly against Gojo’s. He moved his hands from under his shirt to have both of his hands drag Gojo’s hips against his. Geto didn’t miss the smug grin that tugged at Gojo’s lips as he pulled his hair once more as a test only for Geto to slot his mouth back onto his.
The older could feel his orgasm building up, and he was sure Gojo wasn’t that far behind, only further encouraging the rough movements of their hips. He was so close-
“I can’t-” Gojo moaned, fingers digging into Geto’s skin. “Suguru.”
It was like a switch flipped in his head, his hips stuttering as his vision blanked out, groaning into Gojo’s mouth as he came, successfully ruining his pants. Gojo followed suit, a low whine escaping from the younger’s throat as he held Geto close, riding out his own orgasm.
They stood there panting, Geto moved to hide his face in Gojo’s neck, their clothes clearly ruined. Both probably needed new pants, to which Gojo would definitely need a new shirt.
He could feel the vibrations of Gojo’s hum, the younger one moving to gently play with his hair.
“Suguru…”
Hearing his name, his name, was like a bucket of cold water being dumped on his head. Everything he just did dawned on him at once.
He made out, fucking dry humped, his coworker in the restroom of a damn restraunt with all the rest of his coworkers sitting outside probably worried about them. And not just any fucking coworker, the son of his fucking boss.
“Oh, fuck–”
It was also at the same moment when all the drinks caught up to him. His stomach lurched violently, making him push away from Gojo.
That managed to break Gojo from the spell he was previously under, turning into genuine concern as Geto gagged, the older hunching over as he slapped his hand on his mouth in an attempt to keep anything from coming out.
“Suguru? Are you--”
“Stop saying my--”
Geto couldn’t continue further as he barely managed to make it to the toilet and dropped onto his knees. The sound of him throwing up echoed in the empty restroom. He could vaguely register Gojo crouching down next to him, one hand rubbing circles onto his back while the other pulled his hair away from his face.
Geto wanted to die as he heard the restroom door open, clearly being one of his underlings asking if everything was okay, rushing to the stall door as Geto loudly threw up into the toilet even more.
Everything else that happened after was a bit of a blur. Gojo muttered a soft curse as he let go of his hair to fix his appearance the best that he could. That prompted his hair falling back onto his face, which led to getting bile in his hair as Gojo opened the stall door.
As soon as he emptied whatever was left in his stomach, Geto didn’t even bother to look up at anyone, feeling so humiliated as he rushed out the restroom, ignoring the voices calling out for him as left the restaurant.
It was a miracle he got back to his apartment, not even giving a thought to the fact his car was still at the restaurant and he walked a good 40 minutes home. He managed to strip himself of his clothes to take a burning shower, then stumbled to fall in bed right after, letting the darkness pull him under.
Geto had a good full two days to think about what he did.
Saturday he had to nurse the massive headache that refused to leave him alone. He ignored the overwhelming majority of the messages that spammed his phone the night before, not bothering to leave his bed for most of the day, keeping the curtains drawn tightly shut. He barely had enough energy to drag himself out of bed to retrieve the miso soup that was waiting for him outside his apartment door. Let alone give his poor furry child the attention she so desperately wanted.
Sunday was when he had to mourn the fact he was definitely going to lose the job he practically spent the better part of his life working toward. He already spent half the morning looking through different job postings and updated his resume. His said fur child kept him company, curling up beside him and even nudging her head against his hand every now and then, as if she somehow understood her human’s emotions. The rest of the evening, he spent sprawled across the cold hardwood floor of his apartment, contemplating every life decision and even thinking of different ones he could've made that could've kept him from making the CEO’s son come in his pants.
Monday rolled in a bit too quickly for Geto’s liking. Anxiety settled into his chest the moment he opened his eyes, somehow making itself even more known as he forced himself out of bed to get ready for work. It even managed to seep into his dreams, draining him of all his energy he’s supposed to have after a good ten hour rest.
As he stepped into the office, he swore all eyes are on him, even though they likely aren’t. Geto knew his team wasn't the type to gossip, yet it felt like everybody knew.
It was a bit awkward meeting with his team later on in the day, not wanting Friday’s night activities to be brought up in the slightest. However, it was as if the gods had blessed him with the most amazing team as they continued on as normal, acting as if nothing happened.
They were kissing his ass a little more than usual, going as far as to argue over who was buying him lunch for the day, but it was better than them looking at him any differently. It was a little…comforting in a way. Better than the alternative in the long run.
The only thing that overpowered any sense of relief was the fact that Gojo was nowhere to be seen the entire day. He didn’t want to ask his team to know what happened to the younger man. Yet, he knew they could probably tell by the way his eyes darted to where Gojo would usually sit, or quickly turn his attention to the door the moment there were any steps that echoed down the hallway.
It was a little embarrassing, but that was the least of his concerns.
The next day rolled around. Still no Gojo.The third day, he managed to find a glimpse of white hair passing through the hallway. Before he could even think about following, he was pulled away with an urgent task that needed his immediate attention.
For the next two weeks, Gojo was avoiding him like the damn plague.
It wasn’t like it was on complete purpose and unreasonable. Gojo’s recent promotion meant he was assigned his own small team to lead, leaving no reason for him to interact with Geto at all. However, he still saw the younger one happily chatting away with his former teammates whenever they crossed paths.
How come he never managed to cross paths with him?
Maybe nothing was wrong? Maybe he was making it such a bigger deal than it needed to be.
But, it was a big deal. It was most definitely a big deal.
There was absolutely no reason for him to be drunkenly yelling at the CEO’s son, then proceeded to kiss him and make him come in his pants only to pretend that nothing happened. He could call it a simple misunderstanding.
Literally what is the misunderstanding of wanting to fuck Gojo until he cries.
He wanted to at least apologize for his drunken state of mind, and also thank him for not labeling him as some sort of creep for doing what he did. Especially for not reporting any of it to his father, nonetheless.
Geto still tensed at the sound of Naomasa’s voice, convinced that his time had come where he was going to get berated and fired on the spot.
By the third week, that is when he finally got the call he dreaded from his boss’s secretary.
“Geto-san. Please visit Gojo-sama’s office as soon as possible. He mentioned it was quite urgent and doesn’t want a single delay. And please..tread lightly. He is not in the best mood.”
He was pretty sure there were some boxes in the breakroom that were big enough to carry the majority of his stuff on his desk. The thought of making a second trip with all eyes staring directly at him stressed him the hell out. Should he say goodbye? He's never been fired before, how does this usually work out? Or is he getting kicked to the curb right on the spot.
Geto pulled himself together as he opened up the doors to Naomasa's office.
“Gojo-sama, you wanted to…” The words tailed off as he looked up only to his boss's son standing next to his father, expression unreadable as Noamasa looked visibly annoyed. “...see me?”
He was most definitely getting fired.
“Get-san. Please sit. I've wanted you here because-”
“Gojo-san, please forgive me,” Geto cut him off, bowing as low as he could, rambling on. “My behavior was completely unacceptable and I regret it deeply. If you give me the chance, I swear to you it will never happen again and I will take any punishment you hand over to me but please, I enjoy this job–”
It was Naomasa’s turn to cut him off. “Woah, woah woah,” he started, confusion and concern written all over his face as he looked at Geto’s bowed frame. Gojo stood there amused, covering his smile behind his hand. “Geto-san, I can assure that you are not in any sort of trouble! I– Do I want to know what you are referring to?”
Geto immediately straightened back up. “No sir,” he answered quickly, feeling his face grow warm in embarrassment as he briskly walked to sit at the chairs in front of the desk. “Please. Continue.”
Noamasa clicked his tongue, narrowing his gaze before shaking his head. “As I was saying…We have an extremely potential client, or a business partner you could say, that is proving to be quite difficult to land. The Zen'ins’ were always–forgive my language–a large pain in my ass.”
His boss pulled out a few folders from his drawer, placing them on his desk.
“However, I do see a few well ventures we could have with them that would be beneficial in the long run, and they are certainly not a company that should be taken lightly. It's imperative that we land this deal with no further delay.”
Noamasa grinned, standing as he went to move over and pat Geto’s back. “And what could be better than sending in my two powerhouses to help secure that deal?”
Geto sat there, looking between the two in surprise, particularly more at Gojo. Was he okay with this? They practically haven't spoken in weeks, this was basically their first interaction since that very night.
“It was actually Satoru's idea!” Naomasa chimed in, seeing the confusion bloom on Geto’s face. “I initially wanted him to take up this project, but he mentioned how it would be better to let you join in, since he wasn't confident he would be able to handle them himself, isn't that surprising?”
Oh.
Geto didn't have much to say, still processing this very moment. At least he still has his job?
It was then that Gojo finally spoke. “Of course. I know how annoying those Zen'in would be, so I figured why not have the two strongest handle this project together?”
Honestly, he was more surprised at the fact Gojo managed to compliment him without any sort of backhanded comment.
Geto reached out to grab the folder on the desk, taking a moment to browse its contents. It was quite an extensive report, and yeah, Gojo could've handled it himself, but there could be some minor setbacks and difficulties in the long run. Having him join onboard would be beneficial in creating something that would be difficult to refuse.
He looked at Gojo for any sort of discomfort or anything that could indicate that he really didn't want to do such a project with him. Either Gojo was very good at hiding his emotions, or he really didn’t care.
Noamasa smiled after nothing else was said. “Well then it’s settled. Hurry along and get started.”
The walk back to Gojo’s office was awkwardly quiet, besides the occasional greetings from other coworkers that passed by. Even then, Gojo seemed like his typical self, but the moment they were alone, he turned those emotions off.
So whilst they were finally in the younger's office, Gojo explaining the premise of what he already had set up so far, giving his suggestions of what his game plan for this could be, Geto couldn’t help himself.
“What’s wrong with you?”
Gojo paused, giving Geto a look of confusion as he pointed to himself. “Me?”
“You. Why are you acting so…” Geto overly gestured towards the younger. “Normal?”
Gojo snorted before turning back to his neatly prepared binder. “You’re being ridiculous. Now if you let me finish-”
“No. You’ve been avoiding me and it's because of that dinner, isn't it?”
Geto didn't need any other confirmation other than the way the younger, who never backed down, who was always so confident, for the first time finally averted his gaze.
The older sighed, rubbed his temple with his thumb. Out of all his years, he never would've expected to be in such a situation, it not even being an option to come across.
“Gojo-kun, I would like to deeply apologize,” Geto started, holding Gojo's gaze despite himself wanting to look away. “It was completely inappropriate for me to come on like that, more so as your superior. And as much as I am…glad I still have a job and you haven't told your father, I will be happy to step down if that is what you wish.”
Once again, they were wrapped in the arms of silence, the only thing that cut through it was the occasional chatter behind Gojo’s office and the steps echoing down the hallway. Geto about to speak once more until Gojo cut him off with a snort followed by a laugh.
“Are you serious?” Gojo asked in disbelief, eyes wide as Geto tilted his head in confusion by his reaction.
“What? Gojo-kun, I took advantage-”
“You took advantage of me? May I remind you, who was the drunk one out of both of us? Geto–Suguru–the only drop of alcohol that I had was the one that I sucked off your tongue–”
Completely ignoring the fact that Gojo chose to say his name, Geto felt himself heat up at the memory of that night. “Don't say it like that!”
Gojo snorted again as he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “If anything, I should be the one apologizing. I mistook you for wanting something more from our banter.” He shrugged, suddenly finding chipped paint on the wall more interesting to gaze at. “I figured I pushed it too far and backed off. I guess something more straightforward such as ‘I really want to kiss you, would you let me?’ instead of going straight to making you come in your pants would have been more appropriate.”
“So…” Geto started off, still trying to wrap his head around the current predicament he got himself into. “You like me?”
Geto tried not to smile and push down the brewing feeling of satisfaction from the way Gojo's cheeks tinted to a soft dusting of pink. He started to find himself enjoying the way Gojo could easily break character than the usual front he always has with him.
He probably should've expected this. It was the typical ‘teasing your crush until they finally get the hint to tell you they like you’ trope. Sure, they might have skipped a few crucial steps before getting to the actual confession, but hey, at least they got some point of it down.
Taking advantage of Gojo's silent confirmation and the sudden boost of confidence, he stood up and walked over behind Gojo's desk to swivel the younger's chair until he faced him.
“Of course you do,” Geto started, leaning down with a teasing smirk. “You were making quite an awful amount of sounds that night-”
Gojo's face turned a shade darker. “Me?” he scoffed, instantly standing to poke at the older's chest. “You were the one making all those noises! Fucking mawling my neck like a damn dog. You know how sweaty I was wearing turtlenecks for a week straight trying to hide what you did?”
Geto laughed, a warm feeling blooming in his chest as he gently swatted at Gojo's finger, the younger glaring at him with a scowl plastered on his pretty face.
“Maybe I kinda like you too.”
“Excuse me? Kinda?”
Geto couldn't help but grin. “Alright, alright…I like you, too.”
Gojo clicked his tongue, his hands sliding up the older's chest before settling onto his shoulders. He tilted his head, a glint in his eyes as he smirked.
“Obviously. You stared at me too much for your own good. You wanted to kiss me so baaaad–”
And like that night, Geto grabbed at the younger's shirt, pulling him into a kiss. It was a little more coordinated, but still heated from pent up feelings. It wasn’t long before they stumbled back against Gojo's desk, a loud screech sounded in the room as it was roughly bumped into.
One of Geto’s hands slid to hold the back of Gojo's head to cushion it against the hard wood as he pinned him to the desk. He nipped at the younger's lips, taking advantage of the gasp he let out to slip his tongue in.
Gojo hooked one of his legs around Geto’s waist and tugged him closer, hips moving against one another. They moaned into each other, only fueling their desire for each other more before Gojo broke the kiss which pulled a disappointed noise from Geto.
The younger gripped Geto's chin and forced their gazes to lock, catching his breath from their heated make out session.
“If you aren't going to fuck me against this desk, go hump your dick against something else–”
In the midst of him talking, Geto took that as an opportunity to unbutton Gojo's slacks and grip his rapidly hardening cock. The other bit back a moan, face flushed as he scowled.
“I was in the middle of talking, you ass”—Geto squeezed him in his hand, thumb running over the slit—“hole!” Gojo, this time, couldn't help the whine that slipped from his mouth.
“I'm sorry, I couldn't catch that. You were saying?” Geto teased, pumping him one, two more times then moving away, which caught Gojo's attention instantly.
“What are you doing?” he huffed, legs spread wide with annoyance written all over his face as if his cock wasn't half way out his slacks, flushed and leaking onto his stomach. Geto could feel his heart race at the sight, yet a sense of satisfaction rained down on him at the way Gojo already felt so needy from a few simple touches. He couldn’t wait to pull him apart. “Where are you going? Get back here!”
Geto ignored his complaints, moving to pull off Gojo's pants, the younger catching wind of it as he kicked off his shoes and unbuttoned his shirt to speed up the process.
“You take too damn long–” Geto shoved his fingers in Gojo's mouth, gripping his cock again at the same time.
“You talk too damn much,” he mocked back as he pressed his fingers on Gojo's tongue. “Suck.”
Gojo gave him a weak glare before doing as told, grabbing onto the older's wrist, swirling his tongue around the digits as he held Geto’s heated stare with his own. Geto tried to ignore the way his slacks turned uncomfortably tight, pretending Gojo's little show didn't affect him as an attempt to not boost the younger's already overly inflated ego.
He moaned around the fingers as Geto jerked him off, wasting no time squeezing the length in his hands and teasing at the tip to get him off as quickly as possible.
Deeming his fingers wet enough, he pulled them out of Gojo's mouth and moved them down the younger's body, using it to push back one of his legs closer to his chest, to which Gojo gladly held in place. Geto could hear the noises coming from him much clearer now, hips bucking up to move in time with Geto’s hand around his cock.
Geto then traced Gojo's hole with his wet fingers, taking pleasure at the way he shivered from the action. “Could you hurry up? My hair is already grey from how fucking long you're taking.”
Without warning, Geto pressed two fingers, making Gojo tense below him. He paid no mind to the younger's constant talking-back, Geto knew that soon enough there would be nothing for Gojo to complain about. Especially when he curls his fingers just right–
Gojo keened as Geto kept pressing against his prostate, his legs slipping from his grip. “S-Suguru!” he gasped out as Geto added another finger to join the two, thrusting them roughly in and out of his hole, spreading them constantly to prepare him for something bigger. Gojo's cock leaked profusely, making Geto’s hand slide easier.
“Please, please, please–”
“Satoru,” Geto purred, hunger growing inside of him at the sight of Gojo's eyes rolling to the back of his head, back arched as his body couldn't help but unconsciously move against the fingers abusing his hole and the hand that was milking him for all he’s worth. “Is this what I needed to do to finally shut you up? I've barely even started and you've given in so easily.”
He can see the annoyance that spread across Gojo’s face, barely managing a syllable only for Geto to intensify his movements, turning whatever comment he wanted to make into gibberish with a mix of begging.
A fourth finger was stuffed into his hole, stretching him even more with another press to his prostrate and a flick of a finger against the tip was all that was needed for his mouth to drop open. “I-I’m gonna–” Gojo let out a long drawn out whine as he spilled into Geto’s hand and dress shirt, staining the fabric.
Geto bit back a moan as Gojo fell apart beneath him. He couldn't help his own hips from rutting against the desk to get some sort of relief for himself. He wasted no time pulling his fingers out to quickly unbuckle his pants, pushing them down just enough to release his cock out. It bobbed slightly from his movements, thick and heavy.
Geto hissed as he grabbed himself with the hand Gojo came all over on, slicking himself up as he lined the head against Gojo's entrance, his other hand gripping tightly at Gojo’s waist. He felt himself go insane at the way his hand was able to wrap around half his waist, his thumb pressing down on where he knows his cock will reach.
He knows his cock is far larger than his fingers and the fact that lube would be a much better glide than using just Gojo’s cum. Yet, looking down at Gojo’s blissed out face, seemingly still in the clouds from his orgasm, it’s made Geto far too impatient to wait any longer. He’s pushed down his feelings for far too long to be any more careful.
Geto pushed in and in an instant, Gojo’s eyes were wide. “W-Wait–Suguru give me a–”. As he pushed the head of his cock into his hole, Geto felt Gojo's hands instantly shoot out to dig into his biceps, legs falling from his grip to settle onto the older's arms.
“Satoru…” he tsked, trying to hold onto his self control, fighting the urge to ram the rest of his cock into Gojo's tight heat. “Don't you know this is a nice shirt? I've spent all morning ironing it out and now you've wrinkled it.”
Judging by the way his mouth hung open, drool running from the corner of his mouth, Gojo couldn't even come up with anything if he tried. His eyes welled up with tears as Geto was only half way pushed in, his legs trembling, trying to remember how to breathe.
“Not so talkative now, are you?” Geto husked into his ear, which made the younger quickly turn his head away. “Now, now. Where has that confidence gone?” he teased, using a free hand to grip Gojo's jaw to hold his head in place to lick at the tear that rolled out from his eye. “Is it too much for you? I thought you could handle anything?”
Gojo gave the older a weak glare before he tightened his legs around Geto’s waist to pull him in, filling him to the brim.
“Sh-Shit.” Geto stuttered while Gojo let out a whoreish moan, having the older pulled into a tight hug as he clawed at his back, one of his hands managing to get tangled in long, raven hair.
Geto was lost in the pleasure of Gojo’s tight hole, turning everything into background noise until he felt a yank at his hair, bringing him back. He hissed at the sudden pain until he realized Gojo was trying to say something. Geto managed to decipher Gojo's inconsistent babbling as ‘move, move, move’ before hiking up the younger's hips as he started a brutal pace relentlessly thrusting. It wasn't long until he found Gojo's prostate, making it his mission to constantly hit it with each movement.
He took pleasure watching Gojo fall apart beneath him, endless moans and whines falling from his lips. Geto ducked his head down to his chest to mouth and bite at dusty pink nipples, hearing a desperate sob above him as Gojo pressed his chest against his mouth. “More–” Gojo begged and pleaded into Geto’s ear, “Please– I need–” His head was thrown back, weakly pounding his fists on Geto’s chest. “Suguru, please give me–,” Gojo couldn’t form a sentence clearly, each harsh thrust punctuated anything he tried to say.
Geto was surprised no one had even questioned the loud noises that were coming from Gojo's office. Or maybe they did notice and chose not to question any of the CEO's precious son's actions.
Though, it filled Geto with a smidge of possessiveness, the thought of anyone hearing such noises coming from the oh so untouchable, arrogant man. A low growl escaped his throat as Geto shoved their mouths together, swallowing any other moans from Gojo, kissing him hungrily, putting more power into his thrusts.
It wasn't long until Geto felt Gojo tense up underneath him, his back bowed as he came in between them, ruining the older's shirt. Gojo finished a silent moan before sobs of Geto’s name spilled from those pretty lips.
The way his hole tightened around his cock was enough for Geto to reach his peak not long after, his hips stuttering as he filled Gojo up with his cum, pressing as deep into him as possible, his vision going blank from the heat of it all.
All that could be heard was heavy panting as they caught their breaths. Time felt slower, the two basking in the bliss of their orgasm. They managed to get enough sense to lazily share a kiss, ignoring the fact they were still half dressed and the evidence of what they did was staining their clothing.
It was as if nothing else around them existed, living in their own little world as they giggled amongst themselves like crushing teenagers.
Of course, that was when reality hit as Gojo's phone rang through the small office.
Geto gave Gojo a small parting kiss as he moved to slide out of the younger, trying to ignore the way his cum was slowly dripping out of Gojo's stretched hole, tempting him for another round. He moved to catch whatever was dripping with his thumb and pushed it back in, earning himself a moan from Gojo and a swat of his hand, making him pull his thumb out.
He reached for the forgotten phone on the floor that was still ringing, freezing for a moment at the caller ID before quickly handing it to Gojo.
“It's Noamasa-san. Answer!”
Gojo, still slightly dazed, rolled his eyes, taking the phone out of his hands much too slow for Geto’s liking.
“Yes?”
Geto could only hear his boss's muffled voice with Gojo's gaze fixed on him, relaxed and unworried with his replies. That melted some of Geto’s anxiety. There was nothing to be pent up about.
Gojo hung up the phone then tossed it somewhere on his desk as he smiled up at his newfound lover.
“He forgot to give us a document so he’s heading down here now–”
“What?” Geto exclaimed as he moved away to quickly gather himself.
Gojo snorted in amusement, sliding off the desk with a slight wince as he stretched out his arms. “Calm down. I have wipes in my desk. We'll look good as new.” He then looked down at his terribly stained shirt. “Kinda.”
Geto redressed himself in no time, furiously wiping off any evidence on his clothing then moving to do the same to Gojo since he wasn't in much of a rush like he was.
He barely had enough time to fix his hair before Noamasa walked in with the said document in hand.
“Ah, Geto-san! I'm glad you're still”—He looked at the two's disheveled looks, Geto smiling as if his bun wasn't lopsided while Gojo was leaning back in his chair, shirt buttoned wrong, tie hanging loosely from his neck—.“here…” Noamasa trailed off, looking back and forth before sliding the document onto the suspiciously wet desk. “I forgot to include this in the folder. I'm sure it will be of good use. You two have no problems getting this proposal together, right?”
“None at all. We have it under control,” Gojo chirped, waving him off. “Now please, father. We have important matters to discuss.”
Noamasa rolled his eyes, grumbling about disrespectful kids as he turned around to leave. Before he closed the door, he popped his head back in. “You could at least give Geto-san back his tie, Satoru. I've taught you better than to take what's not yours.”
Geto’s smile crumbled as Gojo bit back his laughter when the door slammed shut.