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“You’re late.”
He laughs softly from the doorway. “I told you I would be.”
“I know,” you say, your eyes focused on the rising moon out the window. “But you’ve always said I was the exception.”
“You are,” you can hear walk over to the closet; next, the rustling of clothes as he sheds his uniform. “But Yuuji-kun is doing so well I got overexcited and just had to stay a bit longer. When I was finished with him, I was planning on rushing straight home to you, but then I ran into my other darling first years. They wanted me to watch them fight. Their training for the exchange is coming along nicely too.”
“Hmmmmm,” you hum, rocking on your heels, “good reasons to be late, I suppose.”
You can’t help but let a little irritation creep into your voice. You’re not angry with him, not truly, but you can’t help be a little annoyed. Your lives were so busy it was often hard to find time to actually act like a couple. The two of you had set aside tonight to finally go out together, a real date. You’d made reservations at a fancy restaurant and even got dressed up for once. Not that you didn’t love your late night routine of takeout, Netflix and sex, but it was nice every once and a while to get out.
To pretend everything was normal. To pretend you were normal.
So when he texted you that he was sorry but things came up, could you please cancel the reservation-you couldn’t help but feel....cast aside.
You loved Gojo’s dedication to his students and his passion for his cause. You were proud of his strength, his powers. But sometimes it felt like you were a planet orbiting around his brilliant sun, competing with all the others for his warmth and light. He was the best, and was always needed by someone somewhere. You knew it was what you were in for when you put your heart in his hands, but it was still sometimes a bitter pill to swallow.
“You’re upset with me,” he says, and you finally turn to face him. He’s out of his uniform and only in a pair of dark sweatpants; your favourite look. You have a strong urge to run to him and bury yourself in his chest. You stay put.
“No not at you, per say,” you run your hands through your hair, taking out the style you’d coaxed it into earlier. “Just at life, I guess. Things are always crazy around here, but they seem to be getting even wilder and it just makes it even harder for us to spend quality time together.”
“You’ve never complained before.”
You sigh, tugging at the straps of your dress. “I know, I know. I’m just in a mood today, I guess. I was really looking forward to going out, and when you texted me, I just felt, I don’t know, shuffled aside.”
He stays quiet, face unreadable. It’s unusual and quite frankly rather unsettling. You feel guilt suddenly bubble hotly in your stomach.
“I mean, it’s fine! What you were doing was very important! Yuuji needs all the training he can get, poor boy. Plus, Megumi and Nobara miss you, they’ve noticed you haven’t been around a lot and they probably just wanted to see you be proud of them, even if they’ll never admit it. I’m being silly, I mean, who cares if we missed the reservation, the students and their training is definitely more important than going out with me-“
Your words die on your lips as you find yourself suddenly pressed flush against the chest you were just admiring moments earlier. You blink and gasp-bright blue eyes are staring intently down into yours. It always stuns you momentarily to see them. They are like sapphires; not only beautiful in shine and hue, but rare and precious. They only show up when he’s feeling particularly loving and mushy, or the very limited occasions when he gets serious.
You have a feeling it’s the latter.
“What have I told you about being too kind, angel?” He scolds you, shaking his head as he cups your face in his large, warm hands. “Just come out and say I’m the asshole here.”
“But-“
“Hush now,” his voice grows stern, the tone he uses when he’s got you at his mercy. You obey on instinct, snapping your lips shut. “I shouldn’t have stayed so long at school, and I definitely shouldn’t have assumed that cancelling would be okay without asking. I’ve never, ever wanted you to feel like you’re playing second string, and I’ve gone and done just that.”
You frown. “I don’t feel like that all the time, please don’t think I-“
“Once is one time too many,” he interrupts. His fingers smooth over your skin, stroking the frown from your face. “I clearly fucked up. I let my angel, my reason to live, my sweet darling thief who stole my heart, down.”
(You feel warm. So he is feeling mushy as well as serious.)
He replaces his fingers with his lips, featherlight brushes over your skin that make your knees begin to wobble. “It’s okay,” you breathe, eyes slipping shut so he can kiss your eyelids gently. “You didn’t mean to.”
He laughs. “Sweetness, you are shit at being mad at someone. This is the part where you call me a prick and make me grovel for forgiveness.”
“You’ve never groveled in your life,” you hum. The irritation you’d been feeling earlier is melting away under his gentle ministrations. He hadn’t meant to hurt you. He sometimes forgets the two of you didn’t always operate on the same wavelength. He sometimes forgets that everyone didn’t operate on his wavelength.
“Another exception I’d make for you,” he nibbles at your bottom lip, and you can’t help but chase him, trying to catch him in a proper kiss. He just laughs and sweeps a thumb over where he’s just nipped. “I’ll even get on my knees.”
The image of the worlds most powerful shaman on his knees before you sends a shiver up your spine. And the perceptive bastard doesn’t miss it. He pulls away, peeling himself from your body with a sticky slowness that causes the air around you to heat and thicken. He sinks to his knees before you, palms upturned in perfect piety.
“Oh goddess divine, please accept my humble apologies,” the words drip from his lips like a sacred prayer. “I have displeased you, and I seek to make amends.”
“Only you could apologize and make fun of someone at the same time,” you murmer, feeling your cheeks begin to flush. “You’re an idiot.”
“An idiot who only wishes to repent for his sins,” he grins lazily up at you, and his upturned hands are suddenly on your legs, beneath your dress. His thumbs begin to rub circles on your inner thighs. Time stops; your next breath lodges in your throat.
“Tell me what I must do,” his voice is smooth like the silk of his blindfold, slipping over you. He leans in and presses a kiss just above your right knee. His mouth is hot against your skin.
“Ummmm....” you try to speak, but nothing comes out but a choked whimper.
“I’m waiting very patiently,” another kiss, this time slightly higher. Your brain begins to malfunction. You open and close your mouth, trying to get the words out, but there’s nothing. Nothing but his warm breath and deft hands. Nothing but crystalline blue darkened with hunger. Nothing but need beginning to boil in your blood.
“I’ll just have to decide the form of atonement myself,” he murmurs, skimming his nose along your inner thigh. His hands slowly slide up your legs, your dress is coming up with them....
And then you both hear it.
The loud grumbling of your very empty belly.
He pulls back and blinks up at you. You stare back, mouth open. And then you both burst into raucous laughter.
“What a mood killer,” he grins, sitting back on his heels. “I’ve never been cockblocked by your stomach before.”
“Sorry!” You rub the offending area, still giggling. “I guess in all my stewing I forgot I was hungry.”
He’s on his feet in a flash. “Well we can’t have you starve on me, can we, sweetness?I know, how about I cook for us?”
Your eyes light up. Gojo is an excellent cook, but he rarely does it due to his busy and exhausting schedule. And his bad habit of filling up on sweets. “Really?”
“Sure,” he’s already across the room, throwing on a shirt and his blindfold. “Tell you what, you go have a nice hot soak in the tub while I cook. I’ll bring you a glass of wine and something from my extra secret sweets stash to tide you over till I’m done.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Something from the secret stash? I’m honoured.”
He grins. “Another exception for my angel.” He suddenly claps his hands together. “Oh, and tomorrow we’ll play hookey! Go to Tokyo for the whole day, and I’ll spoil the absolute shit out of you. The kids can survive a day without us.”
“You already spoil me,” you laugh, shaking your head. “I’ll just be happy to spend a whole day just us.”
“No arguments!” He wags his finger. “I will drop mad cash on you and you will enjoy it.”
“Ugh you are such a dork,” you roll your eyes, but your heart fills with love for this silly man. You know he really is sorry and is trying to make it up to you. He’s an idiot on occasions, but he’s your idiot, and you wouldn’t trade him for the world.
You make to move towards the bathroom, but the lingering feel of his touch on your skin reminds you.
“Hey, what happens after the bath and food?”
Before you can blink, he’s back in front of you, gathering you against him. His smile is absolutely feral, and you can feel his smouldering gaze even through the black fabric now covering his eyes.
And his lips are descending on yours, hot and hungry. He licks into your mouth, swallowing the moan that’s threatening to escape. There’s nothing left but him. His touch, his taste, his scent. He is everywhere, in every sweep and valley of your body, in every corner of your pounding heart. He consumes you like fire consumes a forest, and you are happy to burn, burn, burn.
All too soon he pulls away, and you are left empty. Bereft. Lost. But he leans back in, his lips brushing your ear, his voice dark with reverent desire.
“I’ll worship at the altar of my divine goddess until my penance is paid a hundred fold.”