Chapter Text
Of all the people she knew, Utahime did not consider Gojo Satoru to be a sexual creature. Sure, he was attractive, or rather, Utahime couldn’t call him unattractive. However, she found it hard to believe someone as annoying as Gojo could ever have a partner. He looked like a fool, wearing his stupid sunglasses indoors. Then, Gojo leaned back, guffawing at something Nanami said; it most likely hadn’t been funny. Still, Gojo’s voice roared through the restaurant, his hand slapping against the table, as though he were the drunkest of them all. No one would guess the man was sober.
“You’re glaring, ‘hime,” Shoko said, nudging her with her shoulder. With a huff, Utahime flopped across their table, purposefully turning her head away from Gojo.
Resting her chin against the wooden table, she twisted her beer around in her hands, the condensation coating her palm. “I’m not glaring,” she mumbled. Utahime did not consider herself to be an angry person, but something about Gojo really brought it out in her.
“Sure,” Shoko said. Unconvinced, she lifted her own beer to her lips and swallowed it down.
Utahime frowned, jolting back up. “Well, he’s being loud!” she hissed, not wanting to call Gojo’s attention. If he thought she was speaking about him, she would never hear the end of it. She knocked back the rest of her beer, chugging it. “He’s not even drinking!”
“Please,” Shoko snorted, “Satoru doesn’t need alcohol to be loud.”
“Yeah! Exactly!” Utahime said, though admittedly, she wasn’t sure what point she was proving.
“Honestly, it’s good he’s not drinking. The few times he has, he was a nightmare.” Unlike any of them, Shoko was an expert at holding her liquor. Even after three beers, it was as if she had drank only water the entire night. Utahime, on the other hand, was a light-weight, drunk the second alcohol even touched her lips. (An exaggeration, but she was secretly jealous her tolerance hadn’t improved after all these years.) “Besides,” Shoko continued, “you can be just as loud, ‘Hime!”
“No!” Utahime yelled, slamming her drink against the table. Realizing her obvious mistake, she swallowed and shook her head. “No!” she repeated, this time whispering, her tone angry and hushed.
Glancing over her shoulder, she watched Gojo sling his arm over Nanami, who leaned further away from him. “Should I go rescue Kento?” Shoko asked, tapping the side of her can with her finger. “I’m worried his face is gonna age five more years if I don’t.”
Utahime hummed, tilting her head to the side. “Maybe,” she said, twisting her lips. She did feel a hint of remorse, leaving Nanami to Gojo like that. Then again, he was a grown man, and he could easily get up and leave if he was done. In fact, Nanami was known to not take Gojo’s shit. It was one of the things Utahime liked most about him.
Gojo picked up his sweet drink, virgin, of course, and he rolled his tongue around the straw, sucking it down fast. Utahime wrinkled her nose. How the hell was he able to suck down sugar like that so fast? A mystery, truly.
"Oi, Satoru!” Shoko called, smacking her hand down against the table. “Stop bugging Kento.” Reaching up, she moved Gojo’s hand off Nanami’s shoulder. “Quit being a nuisance, or we won’t invite you out to drink again.”
Immediately, Gojo pouted, his eyes flickering with fake sadness over the edge of his sunglasses. With a huff, he pushed out of his stool and walked around the table, stopping next to Utahime. This was exactly what she feared would happen. “It’s fine,” Gojo said, slinging his arm around Utahime. “I can talk to Utahime now!”
“No,” she said curtly, pushing his hand off her shoulder. “Absolutely not.” Utahime’s gaze flicked to Shoko, who had promptly abandoned her. Her back was turned while she chatted with Nanami.
“What? But we’ve been so far apart all night,” Gojo whined, letting his head drop onto the top of hers. Utahime felt the pressure, though she knew he hadn’t let down Infinity, stopping before their heads could actually touch.
With a scoff, Utahime rolled her eyes and downed the rest of her drink. She was going to need another one if Gojo was going to be next to her. She flicked her finger up, flagging down the waitress for another beer. “Yeah, I wonder why,” she mumbled.
“Don’t be like that ‘Hime! It’s been so long since we’ve gotten to talk like this,” he said, leaning his elbow against the table. He was splayed out across the counter, his smile wide. She hated how casually handsome he looked, his hair sweeping across his forehead, his blue eyes glowing in the dim lighting of the bar. His black t-shirt dipped low enough for her to see his clavicle and his unzipped jacket revealed his long neck. Glancing down at her empty drink, Utahime wondered if she needed another; she must’ve been feeling tipsy if she was thinking Gojo looked hot tonight.
“It’s because I-I don’t enjoy talking to you!” she sputtered finally. Her eyes darted about, desperately searching for somewhere to look that wasn’t his face, those eyes, his lips. Alcohol was a dangerous catalyst for doing things Utahime could later regret.
“Are you sure about that?” he smirked, and lifted a finger toward her cheeks. “You’re bright red!”
As he spoke, the waitress placed another drink in front of her and she yanked it up. “Yeah, because of the beer! Duh!” she said, slapping his finger away from her cheek.
“It’s not because you forgot how devilishly handsome I am?” he asked, and Utahime was two seconds away from knocking his shit-eating smirk right off his face.
“No! I would never think you’re handsome!” she said. A perfect lie as she gulped down her beer.
Gojo sighed, leaning on his hand. “That’s really too bad,” he muttered. “And here I thought you looked so cute tonight.” He tugged on her white, frilly dress shirt, tucked into her high-waisted pants. Her heart fluttered in her chest, the idea of him yanking the shirt off of her and groping her chest flashing into her mind. Why? She was going to have a talk with her brain later when it was sober.
“You’re so annoying,” she said, taking another large gulp of her beer. Utahime was stronger than this, she wasn’t going to let Gojo, of all people, turn her on.
With a sigh, Gojo flopped forward against the bar. “So mean, ‘Hime!” he whined, his blue eyes peering at her over the top of his sunglasses. They shimmered against the dim bar lighting, and Utahime’s stomach flipped. Everything about Gojo Satoru was unfair; he was handsome, charismatic, and powerful. The man was good at everything, and Utahime found that jealousy rolled through her when she looked at him. How was one person so damn perfect?
She supposed that was what it meant to be the strongest.
She lifted her beer to her lips, pausing while she continued to stare at him. Gojo’s eyes twinkled playfully anytime he looked at her, but beneath his gaze, she knew there was more. Being the strongest didn’t come without its hardships, Utahime knew this. Perhaps she wasn’t being fair.
Glancing at her drink, she lowered her hands, unable to face him, despite feeling his blue gaze piercing her skin. “Thank you,” she whispered, her tone soft with him. It was rare; normally, she yelled at Gojo or told him to go away. Maybe it was the alcohol, but she suddenly felt a hint of guilt for how she had treated him.
“Eh?” Gojo perked up, lifting his head off the bar. His blue eyes twinkled and his lips pulled into a wide smile. “What did you say?” Leaning toward her, Gojo’s gaze was eager, his smile so wide it looked like he was about to break his damn jaw.
Utahime quickly turned her head, staring at her drink. “No, no. Nothing.” If she could just avoid his stupid, beautiful eyes…
“Did you thank me?” he asked, tilting his head, leaning in even closer. Gojo’s whole chest leaned against the bar while he tried to catch her gaze.
“No,” Utahime insisted, her face red. Her whole body felt hot, embarrassed for even saying something. She cursed the beer in her hand, swearing to never drink again in the presence of this man.
“I think you did!” Gojo laughed, nasally and loud. Lifting himself off the bar, his lips were close to her cheek. His hot breath tickled her skin, and Utahime suppressed a shudder.
“Fine! I-I was just thanking you for… liking my outfit! Nothing more!” she yelled.
Gojo’s smile somehow grew wider. “You look cute, ‘Hime! You always do, but tonight you look especially spectacular,” he purred. His head rested on his hand, and he smirked, looking at her like she was the love of his damn life, like he had been casting out his line and had finally hooked his catch.
No. Utahime refused to let him get away with this. Twisting her stool, she faced away from him. This wasn’t good for her. This last beer had gone to her head, and the bar felt so stuffy and hot. The room was spinning, and she hopped off the stool, stumbling forward immediately.
Shit. When was the last time she had been this drunk? Utahime came all the way to Tokyo to see her friends for the weekend, her first day off in what felt like forever. She had wanted to let loose and drink to her heart’s content, but maybe she had taken things a little too far.
“Utahime?” Gojo said. She swung her arm up and down, desperately searching for the stool. She stumbled backward and found herself in Gojo’s arms, his hands wrapped around her back. Her nose throbbed, pressed against his hard chest, and she tried not to take in his sweet scent. He always smelled as if he had eaten an entire cake all by himself, vanilla, filled with sugar. “I think someone had too much to drink,” Gojo muttered. His thick palms slid up her back, his thumbs stroking over her shoulders.
Again, her heart betrayed her, fluttering in her chest. How did it come to this? How could she feel so safe with him? As much as she hated to admit it, she knew Gojo would fight for her, and would do anything in his power to keep her alive. All this time, had she been fooling herself? Did she like Gojo Satoru?
No. No way. How preposterous. She couldn’t imagine feeling anything but loathing for this man in front of her.
Damn, she really needed to never drink around him again.
“Do you want to go home, Utahime?” he asked, his voice still soft. Gojo’s thumbs still gently caressed her shoulders, and until that moment, she hadn’t noticed he lowered Infinity.
Utahime’s breath caught in her throat. Why was he being so considerate? Gojo Satoru was supposed to be annoying, and that was it. Sure, she was aware they had successfully worked together plenty of times and he could be very serious when he had to be. However, this was different, intimate. Utahime’s mouth went dry. “I-I should get the train-” she started to say. She pushed her hands against him, and Gojo immediately frowned, wrapping his fingers around her wrists.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. You’ve had a lot to drink,” he said, his blue eyes suddenly far too serious for Utahime’s liking.
Shaking her head, she felt the world spin again, and she groaned. “I’ll be fine!”
“Why don’t you come back to my place?” he offered. Gojo spoke so casually, like he hadn’t just offered to have Utahime come back to stay at his personal residence. Utahime’s eyes widened, her cheeks flushing red.
“I said, I’m fine!” she huffed, and tugged her wrists from his hands. All of this was too much; actually feeling his fingers on her, the sensation of his thumbs touching her shoulders. She had to get back to her place, curl up in her bed, and let the alcohol help her blissfully forget this night.
Stumbling away from Gojo, she shook her head. “I’ve done this plenty of times!” she slurred, waving her hand, still backing away from the bar. “I’ll be fine,” she repeated. How many times had she said that now? The more she said it, the more likely it would be that no one believed her.
“‘Hime-” Shoko started.
Utahime just shook her head and waved her hand again, turning away from them. If she looked at them for too long, they might try and convince her to stay. “I’ll see you guys later!” she called out loudly, stumbling toward the door and out into the cool, night air.
~~
“I’m going after her,” Gojo said, the second Utahime fumbled her way out of the door.
“No, I’ll go. She’ll be annoyed if it’s you,” Shoko said, letting a sigh slip from her lips. All of them, especially Shoko, had seen Utahime drunk before. Right now, she was far beyond a normal level of drunk, and Gojo was concerned about her staying on the sidewalk, let alone making it to the train station.
“But I’m the sober one!” Gojo laughed, already stepping past Shoko and Nanami, leaving them at the bar. “I promise, I’ll get her home, and then teleport back! It’ll be fastest if I do it!”
While Shoko wasn’t sober, she was far more coherent than Utahime. “Look, just don’t try anything!”
Sticking his tongue out, Gojo winked. “What could I possibly try?” And before he could give Shoko time to answer, he spun toward the door. Of course, he did, in fact, have a list of things he could try with Utahime, but Gojo knew better than to act upon anything on said list. She was a colleague, a trusted friend, even if she pretended to hate his guts. Gojo could rely on Utahime, an ever constant in his life. It was one of the things he loved about her.
Loved. A word he didn’t think about often. When it came to Utahime, however, it danced around in his head. Like most of his unfair, selfish, frivolous thoughts, he pushed it to the back of his mind. He was Gojo Satoru, the strongest, the most important sorcerer; the last thing he needed to do was push his burdens onto another person. Utahime, especially, had plenty of her own.
Stepping outside, Gojo practically ran into Utahime, swaying back and forth on the sidewalk. She was such a lightweight.
“Utahime!” he called out, reaching to grab her shoulders to help steady her.
With a groan, she let her head fall back, staring up at him upside down. “I told you… to leave me alone, Gojo!”
Peering at her over his sunglasses, Gojo couldn’t help but laugh. Utahime was so cute like this, cheeks red, long brown hair draped down her back. Her white ribbon was lopsided, dangling over her right shoulder. He could’ve turned her around and kissed her right there, slotted their lips together, and snake his tongue inside of her mouth. Gojo could only imagine how delicious she would taste, despite drinking nothing but beer all night. And, oh, he loved imagining her sweet noises. Especially when she was drunk, he could only assume she would chirp and hum with pleasure, everything about her energy so musical.
Gojo knew he would never dare touch her like this. Not with her inhibition so lowered, and her mind foggy.
“I know, I know,” he said finally, and he wrapped his fingers around her cheeks, gently squeezing her face. “But I was worried about you, ‘Hime!”
“There’s nothing to worry about!” she said, but her voice was squished. Her lips were puckered and pushed forward by his large palms.
“You’ve been out here for a few minutes and could barely make it away from the bar! C’mon, you’re staying with me. You can take the train in the morning,” he said.
“No-” She began to protest, but Gojo wasn’t going to listen to her. There were times when he knew to back off, even from teasing her. However, there was no way he would allow this petite woman to get on a train this late at night to go back to her apartment alone. She would come home with him and he’d put her to bed. Gojo had no problem sleeping on the couch, or on one of his comfortable chairs in his main room.
Bending down, Gojo scooped her up at her waist and slung her over his shoulder. “Hey! Gojo! Put me down!” she squeaked, and tried to smack her fist against his back. Infinity blocked her, of course, but it didn’t stop her from punching over and over at his barrier. She was such a feisty drunk, though he was certain she would’ve done the same sober.
“I can’t put you down, Utahime!” Gojo hummed, practically skipping while he carried her back toward his apartment complex. “I need you to be safe tonight, and I don’t trust you to get home.”
“I. am. a. capable. woman!” she hissed, punching each word with one of her fists, annoyed she couldn’t land a hit.
“I know~!” Gojo sang. “But right now, you need to be given some water and put to bed. If you got on a train, you’d probably just fall asleep and miss your stop!” he teased, picking up the pace.
“Why didn’t Shoko come out and get me?” she whined, finally flopping against him, giving into her fate.
“Because I insisted,” Gojo said, patting her back with his hand.
“Fine,” she hissed, the word slipping from her lips with so much bite. “I’ll go with you. Can you just put me down?”
Gojo stopped walking. He wasn’t certain how much he trusted her, but he could always help steady her if she stumbled again. “Only if you’re a good girl, Utahime,” he purred. Against his palm, he felt her back twitch, her muscles tightening. Cute, he smirked.
“Shut up and put me down!” Utahime grumbled.
Clutching her hips, Gojo slid her forward with ease, letting her feet rest on the ground. He had lowered Infinity so she could hold onto him to steady herself. Gojo kept his hands on her hips, and Utahime’s palms slid over his shoulders. With a pause, she stared up at him, her brown eyes twinkling against the city lights, her cheeks bright red. Her lips parted, and Gojo swallowed, immediately turning her around. It would’ve been so easy to kiss her…
“Let’s walk!” he urged, ignoring the throbbing of his heart in his ears. Utahime complied, stumbling forward. Gojo placed his hand on her back, gently guiding her in the right direction, making certain she didn’t stumble or fall.
Gojo’s apartment wasn’t far from the bar, or Jujutsu Tech. Despite being able to teleport wherever he wanted, he liked the location. It was close to some of his favorite bakeries, and he didn’t mind the walk to the school. It didn’t matter much where he lived, he found he was rarely at home.
He guided Utahime a few blocks down, keeping his palm pressed close to her lower back. She was grumbling under her breath, emphasizing slurred and mumbled words with each step she took. Gojo couldn’t hear her, and he decided not to ask for clarification. Instead, he walked with her, humming softly to himself.
There was something exciting about bringing Utahime up to his apartment. He had certainly fantasized about it occasionally, the two of them stumbling inside, frantically kissing. Gojo would pin her and kiss her so deeply, her back sliding up the wall. Maybe they would fuck right there, his cock grinding into her. The desperation palpable in the air, they wouldn’t be able to make it to his bed.
Quickly, Gojo shook the thoughts from his mind. As adorable as Utahime looked tonight, Gojo would be making certain she made it to the bed. Alone.
Gojo led Utahime inside of the apartment complex and into the elevator. She still wasn’t saying anything, even as she stumbled into the elevator and flopped against the wall with a loud huff. They stood in silence, and Gojo could sense her cursed energy going wild. Normally, Utahime was so controlled, but perhaps being drunk had sent her spiraling.
Finally breaking the silence, Utahime asked. “Couldn’t you have teleported us to my place?” She flicked her angry gaze in his direction.
“I don’t think you would’ve appreciated that,” Gojo chuckled. “It tends to make people feel sick the first time they do it, and since you’re very, very intoxicated…” he said, smirking.
“Shut up,” she grumbled, just as the elevator dinged and the doors rolled open. Before Gojo could lead her anywhere, Utahime stepped out and meandered down the hall.
Whistling, Gojo followed her, wrapping his arm around her waist to stop her. He turned her body in the proper direction. “We’re here,” he said. Unlocking the door to his apartment, Gojo stepped inside, holding the door open for Utahime.
“You better not be… be planning anything, Gojo Satoru!” Utahime swore, but froze the moment she stepped into his place. “What the hell is this?” She clicked her tongue, letting her purse drop to the ground, the chain splattering against the wood. “This place is huge?!”
Really, Gojo could’ve afforded any property he wanted. Technically, he was in charge of the Gojo estate, as well. He simply chose to live here. The space was quite large, but there weren’t many decorations, keeping the rooms rather empty and impersonal. It was a place for Gojo to be alone, and he did consider it his, despite the lack of any decor. He had the furniture he needed, and some sweets in the fridge.
“This is yours?!” Utahime said, and she turned around, her hair swinging with her body. “I knew you were rich, but wow.” Her ‘wow’ echoed in the open space of his kitchen. Her words were so blunt, far less polite than she normally was, and Gojo had forgotten how much he adored Utahime drunk. She was so freed, uninhibited, and honest.
“Yup! Pretty impressive, right?” He tossed up his keys and caught them.
Utahime immediately frowned. “This just makes me hate you more.”
Ignoring her, Gojo made his way to a cabinet and pulled out a cup. “How about some water, hm?” He filled it up, offering it to her, and Utahime took it, still spinning around, looking at his place with awe. Some of the water sloshed onto the floor, and Gojo snorted. “And let’s get you to bed, okay?”
“I can’t believe you live like this,” she muttered, peering at the living room as Gojo led her down the hallway. He swung the door open to his bedroom, and Utahime gasped. She let go of the water glass, and Gojo swung his fingers, catching the cup in midair. “Look at the size of that bed!” she said, and pointed a finger at it. If she could see herself, Gojo was certain she would be horrified. But he thought it was so adorable, seeing her light up at his large bed.
“Tonight, it’s all yours,” Gojo said, stepping around her to put the glass down on the table.
“Ew! I’m not sleeping with you!” she yelled.
Gojo immediately shook his head, yanking the blanket back. “I’m not going to sleep with you, Utahime.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I dunno if I trust you.” She walked toward the bed and gently brushed her fingers over his pristine, white sheets. She found them soft, a hum slipping from her lips. “How do I know I won’t wake up with your stupid, pretty blue eyes, wide awake next to me? You’d probably laugh and say ‘oh morning, ‘Hime!’”
Gojo snorted, as fun as that sounded, he knew when to respect her privacy. However, he couldn’t let one thing go. Slipping off his glasses, he leaned down toward her. “You think my eyes are pretty, ‘Hime?”
“Ugh! Shut up! I didn’t say that!” she yelled.
“You did,” Gojo chuckled. “But I’ll let it go. If you get some rest and drink the water.” He stayed chipper, blinking his eyes at her, loving the way her cheeks flushed even more. The tip of her nose and her ears were red now too, and he wanted to kiss every heated spot.
“Fine,” she huffed, and fell backward, flopping into Gojo’s bed. Her hair spayed out over one of his pillows, and she hummed, sinking into the softness of the sheets. “Wow,” she mumbled, letting her eyes shut, and Gojo knew exactly how tired she was.
“See?” he said, pulling the blanket over her, and his heart fluttered in his chest. If only he could be in there with her, snuggling against her, holding her close until she fell asleep. “Good night, Utahime,” he said, gently brushing her bangs across her forehead.
“Mmmmnight,” Utahime mumbled, barely audible. Her eyes were already shut, and her body had buried itself under the blanket, wrapped up and comfortable.
Gojo sighed, standing at the entrance. He couldn’t watch her, but he did hope she slept okay. It was strange, seeing her alone in his bed, when he had considered so many times how nice it would be if they could share it. Swallowing, he shut the light off, and closed the door. Gojo would check on her in the morning. Hopefully she wouldn’t be too hungover or upset.