Chapter Text
Gojo leans down to pick a delicate flower off the ground. An exquisite little white lily. He twirls it between his nimble fingers, a playful glint in his eyes as he turns towards his fiancé. With a mischievous wink, Gojo extends his hand, offering the flower to his beloved.
Megumi's gaze is fixed on the frail lily now in his hands. The flower gently lays in the cradle of his palms, almost like in slumber. A deep, peaceful sleep it'll never get out of.
"You-you didn't have to..."
Megumi’s voice trails off, distracted.
His mind couldn't help but linger on the pitiful flower's fate. Ripped from its roots and away from its life by greedy hands eager to own its beauty. The lily's plight mirrors his own. They both share the same fate and his heart aches for such a sweet little thing forced to suffer so cruelly.
Gojo just looks at him as he was a naive child.
"Isn't that what beautiful things are for? They're meant to be taken,"
A cold hand touches his cheek and Megumi can't help but silently shiver.
"And cherished"
His green eyes look at the white flower again. How it's petals still remain intact, as if it hasn't suffered anything. Maybe it hasn't.
When Gojo finds him, Megumi is sitting by the gardens gracefully looking out onto the trees surrounding him. The light spring breeze sways through the leaves of the pine trees around him. Megumi's in a proper attire for a short outing by the gazebo. His lithe figure draped in a delicate green tail coat with gold and silver embroidered motifs resembling an orchid, snow white jabot peeking from underneath his collar. His lean legs are clad in beige skin-tight front trousers with hand carved golden buttons. A golden ribbon held at his neck in place by a white rose adorned with emeralds hangs over his shoulder. He looks like a nymph from a different land, a gem hidden away in a faraway forest. Gojo absedmindedly represses his urge to rip the boy's clothes to shreds and sink his teeth into the sweet flesh of his neck. It's all too tempting.
He settles on observing the other instead. The young man looks at ease between the soft rustling of the branches above him. Wind gently hits his face, the fresh air softly caressing his smooth skin, swishing some of his dark locks in its wake. The sun shines brightly over the crown of his head, streaming through the tall trees' foliage above. Megumi's almost glowing in the sunlight and it makes him look even more ethereal in appearance. The warm rays make his long lashes glimmer in the sunlight as they bathe his cheeks in a blush of rosy pink. His eyes are a vibrant green, almost like they were carved from delicate and exotic jade, his lips full and pink, and his mouth… oh how he wishes he could ravage that mouth until it is bruised crimson red and begging for mercy.
The boy is oblivious to Gojo. Completely immersed in the nature around him. He sits peacefully relaxed on a lush dark green bench. His appetizing lips curled up in a rare smile as his gaze drifts off into the horizon. He stands in the garden like a god amongst mortals... a beautiful creature.
Megumi looks like a muse painters would draw inspiration from. He'd love to have this scenery immortalized with the gentle strokes of a brush, to see his beauty frozen in time between the corners of a luxurious, engraved frame. He can already see it, Megumi's beautiful face sitting atop the fireplace in the dining room, just that sight enough to warm his heart during cold winter nights. But he's sure not even the most talented of artists would be able to capture the mesmerizing sight in front of his eyes.
Gojo feels like he could watch this scene forever.
Unconsciously, his boots began moving on their own on soft grass. His body craving the other's presence next to his. Slowly inching closer. Closer. Closer-
A small twig cracks under his foot, and the spell is broken. The sudden sound breaking through the calm atmosphere.
The shorter man whirls around towards the sound and their eyes meet.
For a fleeting moment, as their gazes clash, he thought he saw disappointment flood in the boy's eyes. Megumi didn't keep eye contact for long though, lowering his gaze to the floor. Megumi is so shy and demure it's cute.
"Lord Gojo!-"
His voice is but a breathless gasp. Almost going unheard over the whistling of the wind and the rustling leaves. But he wouldn't miss his lover's voice anywhere.
"Again with those formalities? I told you can call me Satoru already!"
Shock fades from his features as he adorably huffs a little at Gojo's words. He likes poking fun at the younger man, riling him up a bit with his childish antics. Getting under the boy's skin is one of his favorite past times. But he really means it when he tells Megumi to just call him by his name. He doesn't like being addressed formally by his own fiancé after all.
"Lord Gojo, that is not proper, you know I can't do that"
So stubborn. Gojo couldn't care less about being proper.
He just waves off the younger man's protests with a casual gesture of his hands and plops himself down next to him on the bench.
"Don't worry darling~ It'll only take two more weeks before we're married, so there won't be any need for formalities then," he reassures him.
The shorter man fidgets a little at his approach, scooting further towards the edge of the bench. Away from his warmth and putting some space between them. His body language tense, the tension rolling off him in waves. He seems ready to bolt if Gojo tries anything. Just like a scaredy kitten. The older man chuckles to himself. Amused by how easy it was to rile the young man up now.
Gojo ignores the other man's obvious discomfort and shifts closer to rest his head on his fiancé's shoulder. He feels the muscles in the other man's side stiffen.
"Relax my love, I'm not going to bite~”
He mutters into his ear as his arm wraps around the smaller man's waist.
"Unless you want me to"
He whispers and nuzzles against him more aggressively as he leans further into the boy.
That earns him a pouty frown and furrowed eyebrows, his betrothed's brows knitted together in clear displeasure. Megumi whips his head to the side, uninmpressed, ignoring Gojo's teasing.
The movement allows him to admire the curve of Megumi’s jawline. The way his eyelashes fan across his cheekbones. The way his lips purse and his nose scrunches cutely. How his Adam's apple bobs as he swallows. Gojo wishes he could trace along the other's neck with his tongue. To see if it felt as soft as it looks.
He wonders what it would feel like beneath his touch. If it tickled or made the younger man squirm in his arms...
Gojo bites his tongue instead.
"Why are you here?"
The taller man grins cheekily, leaning against the backrest of the bench and resting an arm across it. The arm that isn't busy holding his fiancé close to himself that is.
"Do I need a reason to visit my beloved?~"
Gojo responds smoothly. He drawls out the word beloved teasingly.
Megumi lets out a heavy sigh and turns away again with another small mumble of displeasure.
"You're insufferable.."
The petite man complains, but the fondness and affection in his tone is clear. And he doesn’t sound angry at all.
Gojo smiles fondly. A genuine smile this time. And reaches out to run his fingers through the younger man's hair soothingly.
"Your insufferable fiancé~"
Megumi makes a face but eventually lets out an exasperated sigh. Gojo laughs outright at this, unable to contain his excitement at having finally gotten the attention he wanted from his fiancé. Megumi's lips quirk up in an amused smile at the sound but his eyes remain glued to the path ahead. His gaze still fixed on the ground below them.
The older man gently nudges him, to get the other's attention.
"Come on, my dear. Tell me about your day~"
They chat the afternoon away in a pleasant atmosphere, their usual banter flowing easily between them. Eventually evening comes and they have to depart.
Gojo can't wait for the marriage to happen.
He wants Megumi all to himself.
A few days later Gojo goes back to the Zenin mansion. As soon as he crosses the threshold the head butler of the family is there to greet him. His expression a polite mask of reverence, but his voice has something distinctly forced in its tone. Not unlike any other person he usually meets.
"Lord Gojo, sir"
The butler bows low as if greeting royalty.
"I assume the lord is here to see the young master, if your grace permits me, I will be happy to take the lord where the young master is."
Gojo hums in agreement and is promptly escorted through long and many hallways to the gates leading to the gardens. He doesn't even bother to acknowledge the servants as they scurry and bow, on his way there.
The massive black garden gates stand tall and imposing before them. They're made out of heavy iron bars with intricate patterns engraved onto them. The dark metal gleams and shines dully despite the early afternoon sun. Towering trees just stretching behind it.
It vaguely reminds him of one of those prisons he only read about in books. A dark, cold thing. Gloomy and austere. Where there's no room for hopes to grow, only misery. Freedom is a mocking dream. Just in front of them, but forever out of reach.
The thought of regarding these gardens as Megumi's personal cage pleases Gojo greatly.
Kept inside at all times like a pet. Like a beautiful bird in a cage, waiting to be fed and cared for by its master. A perfect, exquisite bird.
He's always been fascinated by just how much power some iron bars could hold over those majestic creatures. The power to take away their ability to fly to the heavens. To keep in the mortal plane such angelic animals. Only some metal separating a life of captivity from escape.
He'd love that for Megumi.
Just thinking of the boy makes Gojo smile widely. It's not a kind smile, one that does nothing to hide the fact that his eyes shine with a peculiar gleam.
He wonders how the young man would look, shackled just for him. Wrists bruised red from the cold, harsh touch of his handcuffs. The boy would uselessly try and tug at his chains to free himself, only to realize there's no escape. Beautiful tears would gather in the corners of his pretty green eyes as the inevitability of his fate dawned on him. He'd look so frail and lost-
A loud creak takes him out of his reverie.
The butler pushes the gates open, and the two men pass through into the yard that surrounds the manor. As he steps outside, a wave of fresh flowers fills his senses. He's reminded of the first time he found Megumi lounging by the gardens and it makes his heart swell.
The butler clears his voice and addresses him again.
"Lord Gojo, sir. I will take my leave now, the young master is just beyond these doors, but before I leave, may I speak some words, my lord?"
Gojo raises an inquisitive brow at that odd request. The old man always speaks with faux respect and decorum whenever he visits, he had never expected him to suddenly have some other opinions. Especially those of a personal nature. Gojo nods to show him he is listening, curious as to what prompted such unusual behavior.
The butler bows once again.
"Thank you for your your patience, my lord, I will be brief."
The old man begins, stroking his light grey goatee in thought. Gojo notices how he doesn't immediately continue after, but instead chooses his words carefully. His long, thick eyebrows are scrunched in concentration. He looks directly at Gojo in the eyes as he does it, like he expects Gojo to react in some specific way to whatever it is he has to say.
"I wanted to bring to the lord's attention that a rumor has it that the young master has developed a close friendship with one of the villa's gardeners."
Gojo blinks at first, surprised, then raises both his eyebrows when he realizes where this is going. What the old man is implying there. The butler goes on, though.
"It was to my understanding that Lord Gojo wished to be informed about anything that interests the young master"
He pauses again and Gojo starts getting fed up with his theatrics.
"As well as anyone else who might have a special interest in the young master."
He finishes in a low tone, looking down almost as if ashamed. Gojo feels something in his gut churn uncomfortably at the last sentence, though he couldn't quite name what it is at the moment.
He quickly dismisses the feeling, steeling his expression into one of total indifference.
"I see. You did well. Giargiana"
He sees the butler's eyebrow twitch a little at the mention of his name. He curtly cuts in.
"Gakuganji, my lord"
Such impudence from such a crinkly old grandpa. He's a breath away from death and yet he feels like he can act this petulantly.
"Exactly what I said, didn't I?"
Gojo smiles cruelly at the old man. He savors with pleasure the barely restrained anger in the butler's expression. He looks constipated as he tries to hold himself back, such a far cry from his usual stoic, unreadable face. Reminding lesser beings who's in charge is always fun. Flaunting the massive difference in power right onto the faces of those inferior insects gets him on a high. It makes him feel better every time.
He quickly grows bored of the old man's face though, so he takes the conversation back to the matter at hand.
"And what of it? Do you have any information for me regarding this new 'friend'?"
He drawls the last word out, rolling it around his tongue mockingly. It's clear he absolutely despises this word.
Giargiana seems taken aback, but he recovers soon enough and gives him an answer as straightforward as possible.
"My lord, he's the main gardener's young apprentice. He's from a filthy family in the countryside. His red hair is a bad omen. Just like the devil's."
He says the last part with emphasis. A hint of disgust creeping into the butler's voice. He acts just like an annoying old man, venomous and bitter. Gojo can't stand it for a second longer.
"That's enough, Giargiana. These rumors are falsehoods. Don't ever bring this up again."
With a dismissive wave of his hand, he sends the elderly man on his way. Then turns his back on him and walks away. He hears Giargiana mutter something under his breath, but he ignores it. It is useless to listen to vapid servants.
He steps inside the gardens, instead, to meet up with his fiancé, as planned.
Yet he can't help but ruminate on what the butler just reported.
Gojo thinks back, looking over the last two weeks or so. He doesn't recall Megumi having mentioned any sort of close friend in particular, and certainly nothing involving a gardener.
He tries to fight off his own curiosity, but he can't help himself. That small seed of doubt planted by that filthy servant, keeps nagging him and Gojo ends up caving in under it. He brings the topic up with his fiancé.
"Did you befriend any of the gardeners here?"
Gojo eyes him attentively, his blue gaze carefully trailing along his betrothed's sitting form. Trying to gauge the effect he'll get from asking such a question. Ready to analyze every single subtle movement of his reaction.
Megumi seems caught off guard at first, stopping in his tracks as he sips from his tea. He stares blankly at the cup in his hands a moment, clearly deep in thought. There's a slight crease between his eyebrows as he contemplates what to say. And then the shorter man shakes his head slowly, setting his teacup down.
"No...no I haven't."
There is definitely a strange quality to that reply. One that suggests he wasn't telling the truth, that he knows something and isn't willing to tell his future husband.
He can see it, Megumi's hiding something. And he's oh so bad at it. Crumbling easily under the weight of Gojo's scrutiny.
The sight of his sweet Megumi uneasily squirming in his seat, unable to meet his eyes, greatly amuses Gojo like no other. He needs more of this. So he prods him some more. Like a cat playing with a cornered mouse.
Getting under Megumi's skin is a game that never tires him. Gojo loves it. He likes Megumi's futile attempts to conceal his emotions by feigning indifference. It’s always so entertaing watching his defenses unravel with a few well placed words. Exposing him to the world. His little plaything.
Gojo leans forward and rests both arms on the table, propping his chin on them. He lazily tilts his head to the side and smiles fondly at the nervous little young man in front of him.
"You wouldn't lie to me... would you?"
The way his fiancé visibly flinches, stiffening in his chair like a plank of wood, tells him everything he needs to know about how badly he's digging into this. Gojo lets his smile widen, watching the other man's face scrunch up in discomfort. He has to admit it's satisfying to see his boyfriend look so uncomfortable, get all wound up in knots. Especially when there are no witnesses to the act. This is Gojo's domain now and he gets this delicious sight all to himself.
"I- I wouldn't-…"
It takes a few moments for Megumi to compose himself, his cheeks flushing a faint shade of pink when he finally meets Gojo's stare. His eyes are wide, darting around like an anxious rabbit trapped in a snare, desperately looking for an escape.
The urge to poke fun at his lover is hard to resist at times. But his desire to make his fiancé suffer just a tad more outweighs that.
Gojo leans back and takes another sip from his cup of tea, his eyes gleaming mischievously.
"Oh, really? Is that it?"
The corners of Megumi's mouth twitch and his lips tremble slightly.
So adorable…
Gojo continues to grin, delighting in the knowledge that he's finally managed to tickle the ever so sensitive part of Megumi's psyche. He watches as his fiancé averts his gaze, fidgeting uncomfortably in his seat.
His little plaything is so cute, so easy to rile.
So Gojo indulges himself a little bit more by making his plaything sweat it out before pressing his advantage. He waits until Megumi turns back to him again and then he says nonchalantly.
"If you're so sure. I suppose there's nothing to worry about."
Gojo flashes the young man a bright, innocent grin.
It's almost endearing, seeing how flustered the normally composed young man can get. He doesn't have to try too hard, not with that adorable blush. Gojo could probably tease him all day long.
The tips of his ears grow redder and Gojo has to resist the urge to coo at him. Oh, this is so much fun.
"Ye-yes of course!- Lord Gojo... Why do you ask?"
He's so cute as he struggles to lie. Stammering adorably as he fumbles with his words. He can't be angry at him for that, so he drops the topic to make the boy feel at ease.
"I was just curious..."
Gojo waves his hand dismissively, taking another sip of his drink.
Megumi looks at him cautiously, biting his lip as if contemplating whether to speak up again, to bring up whatever it is he'd been so eager to avoid earlier. But his tongue stilled at the sudden change of subject. As Gojo continues drinking his tea in silence, he watches the man closely, waiting patiently for Megumi to decide. To give away the information he so desperately wants to keep private or to drop it.
Finally, after a minute or two of quiet consideration, Megumi makes his decision and says nothing.
Silence it is then.
Gojo will leave him the impression of freedom for now, let him believe he can keep anything away from his grasp. But that's not really the case. Gojo has the power here, he's the one that has the other on a leash. He'll just leave Megumi some time to get accustomed to it.
The taller man smiles broadly once again.
"It doesn't matter anyway. Let's just enjoy this tea together."
The corner of Gojo's mouth curls up into a teasing smirk as he reaches out and pats the top of Megumi's head lightly.
"My sweet Megumi~"
The shorter man's shoulder sag in relief, the tension seeping out of his body in increments. His eyelids lower in resignation and he sighs contently. Relaxed and relieved. His fiancé makes such a perfect, adorable, helpless little toy. The cutest puppy.
"Of course my lord."
Megumi agrees in a soft murmur.
"Again with those formalities? Just call me Satoru, my dear~"
They spend the rest of the afternoon in relative peace. Yet a particular detail sticks out to Gojo, one he's been thinking about for a while now. Something that sets his nerves alight as soon as he realizes it.
His eyes linger on a single strand of hair sitting on his betrothed's collar.
The bright red color a stark contrast against the pristine white of Megumi's pale, smooth skin.
Jealousy burns through his insides.
The very idea that someone else might have staked a claim upon his fiancé blinds him with fury.
He really ought to mark his property.