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one: shoko knew utahime was behind the door
Upon entering a secret relationship with Utahime, Satoru had expected certain things: rules, lots of them, discretion, some embarrassment, and a fair amount of reprimands whenever he accidentally touched her a bit too much in public.
What he had not expected was how much she would prefer the relationship part over the secret part.
It's the second time today she's innocently dragged him into his office, and honestly, he can't complain. She's adorable when she blushes and locks the door behind her, so who can blame him for pressing her flush against it the moment he hears the click that reassures him they'll be unbothered? She smiles into the kiss.
It's so easy with her. When they first decided that yes, they were going to do this, he had been willing to put in as much effort as possible to make it work. Dreams like Iori Utahime are just too precious to wake up from. But it hadn't been necessary so far. Everything about them comes as easy as breathing, even when it feels difficult. Their fingers always interlock perfectly, the crook of her neck always feels like home and her mouth, always overflowing with dizzying sweetness.
He's so in love with her, it's crazy.
She giggles when he pecks the sensitive spot behind her ear, and he almost faints at the sound. It's stupid how lucky he is. So, so stupid.
Just as she gets bold enough to start unzipping his jacket ever so slightly (does she think he doesn't notice? He does. He notices very much), someone knocks on the door right beside Utahime's head.
They freeze together and stare at the recently hit portion of wood as if they could pretend it hadn't happened. But it happens again.
"Gojo, are you here?"
Shoko.
"I'm gonna pretend I'm not here," Satoru whispers in her ear as inaudibly as possible.
She swats his arm. "It might be important," she mouths quietly. The movement of her lips is very distracting, but the message gets through.
"Yes, I'm here. Did you need anything?"
A deep, deep sigh. "I just have some papers for you from Yaga about the exams."
Oh right, those were coming. He needs to write them… The last night before, that sounds good.
"Thanks, I'll be out in a second." Utahime untangles herself from him and takes a step back. He immediately misses her warmth, but oh well. They did agree to secrecy.
Shoko raises an eyebrow as soon as he opens the door. "Were you busy?"
"Um." Yes. "No."
"Then what took you so long?" She slaps the files down on his hand and walks away. But she stops just short of the corner. "By the way, fix your jacket, you're a mess."
"Yeah, thanks," he closes the door and faces Utahime again. "Where were we?"
two: nanami noticed that they were holding hands under the table
Satoru has never been very fond of the annual dinner party the higher ups hold every December. (On the day right before his birthday, might he add. He is very sure that's an intentional dick move on their part.) But Utahime never missed it and she demanded he go with her.
So what's a man to do other than sigh and surrender to his beautiful girlfriend's whims?
Maybe he slips some bills to some random organizer so they get seated right next to each other. Who cares? It's not like anyone is going to notice.
Utahime rolls her eyes and shakes her head upon being led to her chair. There's a part of him that's a bit in love with her annoyance, with her sheer inability to put up with any of his shit. Scratch that: all of him is in love with that. He's had enough people around to glorify him and comply with him all his life. She's stubborn, relentless; keeps him on his toes and his head from getting too big.
And even though she rolls her eyes at his shenanigans, she's still the first to reach for him halfway through the main course.
She's sneaky, resting her pinkie on his knee at first while graciously downing her miso soup with her other hand. A silent invitation, maybe even a request for comfort. The annual dinner is huge, loud, not worthy of being described with better words than those, while she is smaller, homely; a beautiful presence that, even though it could perfectly take on the world alone, evoked the need to protect and support.
Without skipping a beat, he slides his own hand under the table and grips her fingers. She scrunches her nose. He knows that means she's holding back a smile.
"I'm happy to see you again, Nanami." She maintains conversation with that dignity so typical of her. "There are few good people left in this world. I'm glad to have you back with us."
"I would be lying to say I'm as happy to be back, Iori-san," he responds ever so honestly. "But it is… slightly comforting to be back to the one thing I'm good at. And of course, it's always pleasant to reconnect with old acquaintances." He gives Satoru a despective once over. "At least some of them."
Utahime chuckles, but squeezes the hand she holds on his thigh. "Understandable. I would agree that sorcerer work offers few perks, and tolerable company is not always one of them."
Satoru fears these thinly-veiled insults will soon turn into not-veiled-at-all insults so he interferes. "Oh, come on," he grins. "It can't be all bad, can it, Nanamin?"
Nanami looks him dead in the eye, then to a still snickering Utahime, then back to him.
"It definitely can."
three: shoko cannot believe gojo really tried to hide inside a broom closet
Satoru loves Utahime's apartment. It's small, cozy, always clean and tidy, and there's a drawer full of his stuff among her clothes.
Besides, it's a safe place. Here, he can wrap his arms around her waist from behind without fear of being seen, and she can caress his forearms while melting into the embrace. He can move her hair to the side to press his lips to the juncture of her jaw and make his way down to the crook of her neck, where he always likes to linger because it always smells like her perfume. She can turn around, push until his hips bump into the kitchen counter and kiss him for real.
All in all, a paradise.
He feels his pulse throbbing under the hand that rests on the side of his throat and the butterflies in his stomach take flight when her fingers skim over the hem of his shirt.
"Careful with those hands, darling," he mumbles with the shit-eating grin he knows she hates.
She hums. "I love it when you call me darling."
"Oh, do you now?" He digs his thumb in the space between her ribs and makes her inhale sharply. "Darling?"
"You're an asshole."
"If you really believed that, you wouldn't be kissing me right now."
She probably wants to fight some more, probably has some witty remark but she doesn't bother with it. She just kisses him again.
"See what I mean?"
"That tongue of yours doesn't know how to do something more useful than talking my ears off?"
"Oh, so that's—"
Utahime's apartment is at least twenty years old, which means some things aren't in top condition. She thinks it adds to its charm. He thinks she should get the fucking front door fixed once and for all so it stops creaking every time anyone as much as breathes in its direction.
However, right now, he's thankful she never listened to him, because it warns them that someone is about to walk in on them.
"Robbers?" He mutters, his Cursed Energy already on edge. "Curses?"
She looks positively frightened. "Shoko. She has a spare key."
Second time. Second time. When they go public, he'll make sure to make her life as impossible as she's making his right now. Also, how come she gets a spare key and he still has to resort to breaking into her house whenever he wants to visit?
"Hey, Hime," they hear Shoko sigh tiredly and dump something heavy on the floor. "You home?"
"I'm in the kitchen," Utahime sounds calm, but there's panic in her eyes as she looks around and decides to push him inside the broom closet.
He complies. It would be easier to just teleport back to Tokyo, but he stays, partially because he doesn't want to leave yet and partially because he thrives in chaos and would like to see how this shitshow is going to end. There's little space inside, and he has to draw his knees all the way to his chest so as not to kick the bucket and mop down and inevitably make too much noise. To top this all off, his lovely, lovely girlfriend closes the door and effectively cuts off his air supply.
Amazing.
Just amazing.
She better buy him candy for this hassle later.
Shoko's tired voice sounds vaguely questioning and Utahime's is almost defensive. He catches the words "broom" and "sure", but not much else, except for the latter's:
"Oh right! We were going out for drinks tonight! In just an hour, I know, I haven't forgotten."
From her tone, he realizes she did forget, and better yet, that he made her forget. The thought puts a smile on his face and has him stand (or sit, given the situation) taller and prouder.
Obviously, he ends up bumping his forehead into the shelf above him.
"What's that noise?" Shoko asks, and he knows that because she got closer to him. "What's in here?"
The door wobbles as someone tries to twist the handle and someone else slams it back shut. He crosses his fingers. He really doesn't want to leave yet. Please, don't let him have to leave now.
"Cockroaches?" Utahime offers, now slightly high-pitched.
Your grandma is a cockroach, he thinks.
"Cockroaches?"
"Yeah. Should have disinfected last week, but I was very busy."
"Hime, cockroaches don't make that much noise."
"A rat, then?"
"Rats?"
"I don't know, maybe?"
"Let me get it for you."
"No, Shoko, wait—"
Light filters through the gap and he teleports back to his own apartment before he can be seen.
four: nanami was on the train too
To see Utahime's favorite band play, they need to take a train to the other side of Tokyo. Satoru knows he could have gotten them there in five seconds, but she insists they travel the traditional way. Is she saying that because she "gets sick with his teleportation shenanigans" or does she just enjoy walking arm in arm with him away from the school and all the potential dangers of being found out? Who knows.
(He does. He knows.)
She clings to him closely as thousands of passengers sandwich them against the wall. It's too crowded, it smells like cheap street food and sweat and the air is humid and sticky, but Utahime's hand is firmly locked on his elbow, so everything is fine and beautiful.
The train stops at a station and some people leave, but then double enter. He blows a raspberry as they're forced further into the back.
"We could be there already if you'd just let me—"
"No."
"Why?"
"The train mess is part of the experience, Satoru."
He'll never get tired of hearing his given name from her mouth. She drags the last vocal ever so slightly, like a held note. It sounds beautiful. She makes him sound so beautiful. Of course, he is beautiful, but with her, he's on a whole other level.
"You're lucky I love you. Otherwise, I would have never put up with this bullshit."
Her eyes dart to him, wide as moons, and he realizes he just dropped the L-word for the first time. And no, it wasn't "lesbian".
Or "lesbians".
"Uh, sorry," he scratches the back of his neck. "It's too soon for that, I know, I'm sorry. It slipped out."
She considers his words in silence. "If it slipped out, it means you were thinking about it."
"Um."
"Were you thinking about it?"
"Well, if it slipped out…" He tries to joke, but the environment isn't really humor-friendly right now. He clears his throat. "If you want the full truth, I've been thinking about it for a long time. Before this. Before us." He licks his lips. How much can he say before she runs off screaming? "It never occured to me that I could ever get to say it. Actually I had a whole plan prepared to say it. Drafted it when we started dating. I know it sounds dorky, but hear me out. It included dinner and—"
She cuts off his blabbing. "I love you, too."
His jaw drops. "You're not saying that out of obligation, are you?"
"No."
"Out of pity?"
"No."
"Out of second-hand embarrassment?"
"Quit it with the questions."
She's blushing and staring intently at the piece of floor between her boots with an oddly satisfied look on her face. It's enough for him.
"Yes, ma'am."
"Iori-san?"
Utahime hides her hands behind her back and turns around. Nanamin greets them with a curt nod.
"Oh, I didn't see you there," she smiles jovially. "Always a pleasure to see you, Nanami."
"Agreed…" He trails off when his eyes land on Satoru and his mouth curves downwards. "Gojo."
So polite.
"Nanamin!" He holds out a hand through the mess of people for him to high five him. He doesn't. "What are you doing here?"
"Business," is all he says. "I will admit I did not expect to see you two together."
"Us? Together?" She acts as if the idea was the craziest thing she heard all week. "No, thank you. We bumped into each other by a tragic accident."
He squints at them. "I see."
Satoru offers him his best grin. "So yes, before you ask, I am single. No, I'm not looking for anything serious. But if you are interested—"
"This is my stop." He almost jumps off the wagon when the train comes to a halt again. "Enjoy your afternoon together."
"We're not—"
The doors slide closed.
"Together."
"Oh well," Satoru shrugs and takes her hand.
five: shoko knew utahime lied about where she got her shirt
Satoru would have enjoyed the baseball match a lot more had Utahime not insisted to let Shoko tag along. To be completely fair, her friend doesn't seem to be having that much fun either. Her eyes keep flitting between them instead of the match, and the sips she takes from her beer look a lot more like chugs at this point.
To make matters worse, Shoko had installed herself in the middle seat, so he couldn't even reach for Utahime to hold her hand.
Friends are nothing but traitors in waiting, aren't they?
The Lions bat well, or so he assumes, because Utahime and the rest of the stadium stands up to cheer. He hollers random nonsense too, even though he's not completely sure of what is even happening. Shoko gives him a disgusted look, drinks again and turns to her friend, wiping her mouth.
"Nice shirt," she pulls on the sleeve of the off-shoulder she's wearing. "Where did you get it?"
Satoru almost chokes. Utahime had slept over at his apartment last night and had very sneakily (or so she thought) grabbed a shirt off his drawer that morning. A baggy old thing that happened to fit her much better than it had ever fit him. They'd almost been late because he went into shock for a good twenty minutes.
"Hmm?" Utahime absentmindedly picks at the hem of the garment. "Oh, you know, somewhere. I don't quite remember. It's old."
"I'd never seen you wear it before." Shoko raises an eyebrow in suspicion.
"I don't wear it that much."
"It looks worn."
"Let me finish: I don't wear it that much out. At home I do."
She lies with ease. It's sort of amazing to see good, honest Iori-senpai sprout falsehood after falsehood like it's nothing. Not going to lie, he's kinda into it.
"I have a feeling I know it from somewhere though," Shoko insists. "Not on you though."
"Well, it's a very basic shirt—"
"Oh right," Shoko snaps her fingers. "Don't you own the exact same shirt, Gojo?"
The question hits him like a truck. He barely has time to swallow his candy bar whole under her incriminating gaze. Behind her, Utahime's eyes widen and she shakes her head in terror.
He laughs a little maniacally. "Hey, I do! Are you imitating your dear junior, Utahime? How adorable of you!"
Apparently, dating her doesn't prevent her from throwing an empty beer can at his face.
six: not the number of eyes nanami needs to see through gojo and utahime's bullshit
Satoru has never been a big fan of drinking, but Utahime is. And according to the Handbook of the Perfect Boyfriend —written by yours truly, out in all libraries by April next year— when someone's partner likes to get shit-faced drunk, it is one's duty to chaperone.
So he drives her to her favorite bar in Tokyo, pays for her drinks even though she insists it's not necessary (but he likes spoiling her, so sue him), and helps her remain steady when the floor starts to dance beneath her feet.
"Okay, let's sit down, how about that?"
She laughs boisterously. It's enough of an affirmative expression for him.
He holds her as she falls on a booth, still all giggly and reaching for a half empty glass someone left there. She snorts when he grabs both her wrists to stop her and mumbles something about pigs and mint.
"Nope, not that." He eyes the suspicious green liquid and pushes it away. "I'll get you water."
"Hey, look at that!" She cries out and waves an arm in the air, almost slapping him. "It's Nanami! Hi, Nanami!"
Nanamin is, indeed, sitting in the farthest corner of the bar. His Six Eyes might be tricking him, because it looks like their dear junior had been hiding and cursed upon being found out.
"Come sit with us!"
The man sighs and makes his way towards them, a pained expression on his face. "Iori-san, good night." He nods to her and then frowns at him. "Gojo."
Just like that, huh?
"Gojo's paying, order something on us!" She leans over the table to talk to him in a whisper loud enough for all of Japan to hear. "Order the most expensive thing, he can afford it."
Nanamin politely scrunches his nose upon smelling the alcohol in her breath and Satoru takes it as his cue to make her sit back down and lean her head on the wall.
"What are you doing with poor Iori?" Nanamin asks, raising an eyebrow. "I trust you do not have any… ill intentions."
"She asked me here." He can tell he believes him, and it's a relief. Last thing he wants is to send off the wrong message. "As you can see, she kinda needs a babysitter."
"Strange."
"Why?"
"That she would ask you of all people."
The moment to ward off suspicions like a pro is here. "She needs my wallet. This hobby of hers is not cheap. Besides, I lost a bet to her, so, you know."
This time, Nanamin doesn't believe him as readily, but says nothing. Utahime chooses that specific moment to drop her head on his shoulder and kiss his shoulder. He freezes. Nanamin blinks.
Oh crap.
"She's like that with everyone?" He offers in a panic.
"I'm like what, babe?" She murmurs, already half asleep.
He forces himself to laugh. "Babe? What is this, falling for dear old me, senpai? How sweet!"
She lifts her head and grabs his cheeks, squeezing them and bringing his face centimeters away from hers. "I already fell for you? What are you talking about?"
"She's very, very drunk," he keeps explaining to an increasingly suffering Nanamin. "She gets weird. Maybe I should just take her home. Let's take you home, Utahime, before you make any more embarrassing declarations and ruin your reputation with me, what do you think?"
She sits very straight. "I'm thirsty."
"There's water at your home." Satoru is ten seconds away from a nervous breakdown. "Let's go."
He barely resists the urge to just potato sack her and run away, but he manages and walks her out at a brisk pace while she keeps asking questions.
They both miss Nanami sighing and pulling out his phone.
"So it's true. They're together."
Ieiri could be rolling her eyes behind the phone, but Kento wouldn't know. "I told you it was. You didn't believe me."
"I believed you," he corrects her. "I was just hesitant to believe Iori-san had truly fallen so low."
"But now?"
"They were at my bar. Drunk and disgusting. There was some slight pecking involved."
She laughs. "Oh man, now you know what that was like. Imagine, Utahime really tried to say there were cockroaches in her broom closet."
"Unbelievable." He sits down at the bar and flags down the bartender. "Whisky, on the rocks."
"Are you still there?" He hears some shuffling in the back. "Let me join you. We need to plan."
"Plan what, exactly?"
"How to utterly embarrass those two dorks."
"I'll be waiting."