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delghoul · 1 year ago

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back to school days : gojo satoru

includes: fem reader, friends hinting to lovers, non curse au, suguru and shoko being active third and fourth wheels, in denial reader, pining (and teasing) gojo

satoru’s changed his wallpaper.

you try not to feel like a stalker for realizing he’s changed it a day after he does, but in your defense, you happen to always be seated next to your friend, and noticing his wallpaper as he checks the time isn’t exactly your fault. it’s different from yesterday, and it’s not a creepy thing that you noticed.

it’s by chance, and it just so happens that you’re not the only one who notices either.

“you changed your wallpaper?” suguru points at the phone in satoru’s hand, stretching a hand across the table and waving his fingers, “let me see.”

“inoue waka,” he grins, handing the phone over for suguru to get a closer look. “isn't she hot?”

shoko glances at you. you pretend you don't notice as you take a sip of your milkshake.

inoue waka is pretty, sure, but you didn't think satoru was into girls her type anyway. he seems less shallow than looking at women in bikinis all day—but then again, you suppose he is just a guy, after all.

you don't even really care that satoru's wallpaper is some random girl on a beach in a bikini. you had, of course, wanted to think your friends were better than frothing at the mouth over women who were half naked, but boys will be boys, and satoru is just a boy. who is your friend. and nothing more.

and you don't care that he's really into someone like inoue waka.

"you sure you won't get in trouble for this?" suguru snorts, but his eyes linger on the screen a bit longer than they really need to. you'd reach over and smack him across this table if you could—why is he encouraging this?

"with who?" satoru chuckles, "my mom? what's she gonna do, take my phone away?"

"she really ought to," you say pointedly, "walking around with a bikini photo as your lock screen isn't exactly a very dignified thing to do," you scold.

maybe if you weren't so focused on satoru, you'd notice suguru try to hold back another snort and shoko elbow him as she pretends to clear her throat to stifle a chuckle.

you don't care that satoru's wallpaper is inoue waka because the idea of a girl being his lock screen is a big deal—it's not. sure, you held a schoolgirl crush on him back in the day a few years ago in grade school, but you're adults now. time has passed and he's grown, you've grown, and those things fade with time. you don't nurse that lovesick little hope you did back in the day because you and satoru are really good as friends—very good, actually. a great duo, in fact.

it's simply your job as a friend (and as a woman) to instill some respect and dignity in him so that he views women like they're people, not a pair of tits to ogle.

that's all there is to it. really.

"why," he chuckles, leaning in closer as he stares into your eyes over the lenses of his sunglasses, "you jealous?"

he's just joking, like he always does—that's what you tell yourself, anyway, when he takes a sip from your straw and steals a bit of your milkshake. his eyes never leave yours even as you watch him swallow, and it's almost intimate, watching him do this one tiny, regular, normal little thing. you've shared drinks with each other since you were teenagers—not just him, in fact. shoko and suguru share a cigarette all the time; it's nothing new.

but a small, stupid, lovestruck part of you that's still hooked on your teenage days is screaming, his lips touched where yours were!

"jealous of what, asshole?" you snort, shooing him away from your drink as you steal it back. he pouts, reaching for it again before you smack his hand away.

you're a bit compelled to give him back your drink once he flashes you those curled lips of his, but he already drank his, and it's his fault for inhaling everything as soon as he gets them. you'll take your time to savor your milkshake, and satoru can sit and watch. and sulk.

"that you're not my wallpaper anymore," he wiggles his eyebrows like he's got you cornered. you think he might for a moment with the way you blink.

okay, so you were his wallpaper—but so were shoko and suguru. it was a group photo, and changing it from that does, in fact, replace you, but it replaces the other two people in this equation as well.

you roll your eyes as you scoff, staring at him in amusement. "i don't know, satoru. i think you only made that your wallpaper to prove to people you actually have friends."

"i'm not his friend," shoko says instantly, "i'm only here for you."

"hey," suguru frowns, "i shared my fries with you."

"okay," shoko concedes, "and for your fries too." suguru pulls his platter away at that, and shoko sighs and mumbles, "okay. i'm here for you two. no one else."

she makes sure to gesture between you and suguru as she throws satoru a glance, and he pouts again, looking at her in disbelief.

"what about me?" he gasps.

"you never pay for your own food," shoko scoffs, "fucking leech."

it's not so bad, you think: being friends with satoru has its perks. he's funny and endearing and makes for a good source of entertainment when everyone agrees to tease him in unison. there's a fond smile on your face before suguru snaps at your face and pulls your attention back.

there's a knowing smirk on his face as he says, "you've had your mouth open over the straw for ages now. are you gonna take a sip or keep staring?"

luckily, satoru is still whining away as shoko pushes his buttons on the side, and neither of them seems to hear suguru or notice the embarrassment flooding your features. you sputter, trying to hide the way the question makes you flustered enough to slam your drink down a bit harder than you intend to.

"i'm not staring, you jerk. i was just...listening in."

"yeah," he snickers at your answer, lips twitching into an even larger grin, "some great listening skills you had back there."

you can feel more heat creep to the back of your neck—just because you weren't listening to suguru doesn't mean you weren't listening to something. you're not good at splitting your attention, that's all. it's just that satoru is very good at demanding attention to center around him without even trying, and old habits die hard.

you weren't staring at him on purpose.

"hey," you're interrupted by satoru's incessant tapping on your shoulder, making you reluctantly turn away from suguru's knowing gaze before you sigh and pretend to look at the man next to you in weariness.

"what, satoru?"

"that's no way to talk to me," he huffs, "and tell shoko i am, in fact, very handsome! i am, right?"

shoko rests her cheek on her palm as she flutters her lashes at you, grinning deviously as suguru perks with interest. both of their gazes tell you they're thinking the same thing—this should be good.

"yeah," shoko baits, "is he?"

"no. you're hideous," you grumble, not looking at satoru's wounded expression as you glare at your two friends across the table. some friends, really—it's like they pray for your downfall.

"that's a lie," satoru huffs, crossing his arms stubbornly, "everyone at this table is in love with me. admit it."

"oh, i bet someone is," shoko mumbles under her breath, earning a warning glance from you—you're not in love with satoru. it was a simple crush. it's history now.

satoru reaches for your drink again, his fingers gently brushing against yours as he takes it from your grasp. it's a fleeting moment, but you both pause at the contact, eyes meeting before you quickly glance away and he takes a quick sip from your milkshake, and both of you pretend it didn't happen.

your bottom lip is tugged between your teeth as you chew on it nervously, and satoru's ears are suspiciously close to a dusty pink. it doesn't mean anything, after all—it's just an accidental touch.

suguru seems almost pained before he tiredly says, "it's getting late. we should go home."

"right," satoru nods, still holding onto your milkshake like it's his. you'll probably let him have it—you were having trouble finishing it, anyway. and it doesn't hurt that he's been eyeing it since he finished his. "i'll walk you home," he turns to you.

"wha—" you try to protest, but shoko cuts you off before you can.

"great idea! suguru and i will go out for a smoke. see you guys."

they're off before you can say anything else. it's just you. and satoru. and you suppose that stupid wallpaper of that bikini model that lights up on the table as he gets a notification. you eye it for a moment and he can't help but grin.

"you're so jealous," he chuckles. "knew it."

"am not, you idiot," you click your teeth in irritation, "your ego needs a reality check."

"i'll change it just for you," he hums, leaning closer until his elbow brushes against yours on the table, closer and closer until your arms are pressed against each other and his head is leaned closer to yours and you can smell his cologne.

it's expensive, just like the rest of him.

"keep your little bikini picture," you roll your eyes, "it makes no difference to me—"

"how about this one?" he hums lowly, looking at you expectantly for your answer. there's a grin on his face that tells you he's teasing you, but there's an anxious little tap of his foot that you think might say otherwise.

you look over—it's a picture of you and satoru. you're sleeping, head rested on his shoulder as he smiles to himself and scrolls through his phone. the picture has to be taken by suguru—only he would take it from a tilted angle like a moron.

"when was this?" you furrow your brows, "and why do i look like that? don't you dare—"

but he laughs, low and smooth and in that soft little boyish way that makes him feel just a bit more reachable. a bit more touchable. a bit more possible to be yours.

"it's cute," he murmurs, "you were drooling."

"satoru," you hiss, "if you're always this annoying, you'll die single."

he grins—it's amused and soft and slightly awed all in one. it makes you pause, and then you feel it: the steadily building thrum of your heart. satoru is just a schoolgirl crush, but you don't know if you've ever outgrown those high school days.

at least not the moments that feel like him. the moments that smell like his expensive cologne and taste like the strawberry milkshake you get because you know you'll end up sharing. the moments where somehow, in some way, it's always the two of you that are always left alone. together.

"maybe not," he murmurs, leaning closer, breath just fanning over your lips, "i still have some hope left for me." and then he stands and stretches as he grabs your milkshake and looks at you expectantly. "c'mon, i gotta walk you home. it's getting dark, y'know."

you stand, he takes a sip of your drink, and there's a notification on his phone that suspiciously looks like suguru's contact. you don't get a glimpse of what it says, but you do get a glimpse of his wallpaper.

it's you—of course, you're sleeping and not at your best moment—but it's you all the same. you're not jealous of inoue waka—but if you were, you'd think that maybe you really wouldn't really have to be.

reblogs appreciated!

ctrltoru — do not repost, translate, or plagiarize.

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