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He really hates Suguru right now.
Like, he could kill him with his bare hands. It's until that point where he couldn't care less about injuring his hands. His career with the Giants as the main pitcher could go to hell if he could beat the pulp out of their shortstop.
Okay, maybe he still wants to play baseball.
But that doesn't mean his wish to hurt Suguru lessened.
Because if it wasn't for Suguru, he would be lounging at home right now, on his worn out but comfy couch, watching some movies with his cat, or maybe sipping his favorite hot chocolate while reading scorebooks for the rest of the evening.
He definitely deserves that after playing the whole nine innings against The Hawks and winning the game. Especially that two-run homer he hits in the 8th inning which turn the tides back onto their favor.
Then Suguru just had to drag him here, to this godforsaken place.
He had to admit their drinks are pretty good though. Even the non-alcoholic ones. The sweet taste almost suits him.
Almost.
It doesn't change his mind about wanting to go home.
Satoru stared deeply at the pink liquid with hints of yellow tones, topped with sliced strawberry on the rim, trying to drown out the loud noises from behind him.
An arm jostled his shoulder out of nowhere.
"Satoru-san! What's the long face? We won against our rival thanks to your homerun!"
Haibara, their first baseman, shakes him all around. Ugh, he wants to throw up and he's not even drunk. Satoru's frown deepened when more of his teammates walked closer.
"Oi, Satoru! What's with that bitch face? Shouldn't you be celebrating?" The pitcher's eyebrow twitched at the soft laugh coming from the shortstop.
Satoru shrugged off the arm that was resting on his shoulder before continuing to glare at Suguru. "You know this is not my kind of celebration," he grumbles before taking a sip from his drink.
The sweetness of the drink managed to settle his mood a bit. At least he doesn't have to deal with this situation with sweet cravings.
"If what you mean by celebrating is lounging around in your expensive penthouse all alone with a bowl of caramel popcorn in your lap, then sure. At least bring someone home tonight," Suguru sidles up to the booth beside him.
"I have Yuu-chan at home." Satoru clicked his tongue when he realized he finished his drink.
"He's a cat, not a partner in the bed," Suguru raised his eyebrow.
"I don't know, he curled up on my comforter pretty often." Satoru smirks as he calls the bartender for another one.
"Fuck sake, you need to get laid," Suguru sighed defeatedly at his friend. "I heard that our manager is about to make a move on you tonight." He added a wink and a jab at the end of his sentence.
Satoru just rolled his eyes at the information.
Sure, Remi and him rolled in the sheets just a few months ago. But that was no more than an old fling and an accident. He doesn’t know why his team keeps bringing it up all the time. Or maybe he knows and it’s because of a certain raven over there. She probably spread some untrue rumors about how Satoru is currently utterly smitten with her.
His eyes catch Remi's, currently chatting up with an annoyed Nanami and Megumi just a few feet away. Remi winks and smirks dangerously at him.
Satoru quickly turned his head away while making a disgusted face.
Suguru continued to tease him by mentioning a few "hotties" here and there for him to pick up tonight. Shame that Satoru's Jr.—Not really Junior, aha—is not really on board with the idea.
"Oh, lookie here," Suguru's voice drew out in a teasing tone. Satoru watched Suguru sliding off from the booth beside him, his eyes catching a raven-haired girl from over Suguru's head.
It was Remi, with her skintight dress and a sway in her hips, looking at him with insatiable hunger in her eyes. Shudders and shivers slide down his spine, biles building up in his throat.
Usually, the prospect of sex would get him going in no time, he has a high-sex drive after all. But this time he just wanted to run off to the bathroom and puked out his three glasses of mocktails.
Especially if it's with Remi.
And when Remi hinted that she wants so much more than a one night stand with him?
He'll have to bail out on that.
It's not like sex with Remi was bad or anything like that. It was amazing, he wanted to say. That is, if he could remember how it felt.
Satoru found out that having too much alcohol—which usually only takes him a few bottles of beer—could hinder your decision-making sense and a part of your memories. Satoru was adamant on filing that night as nothing but a mistake, even when he couldn't remember it.
Satoru was pretty sure he wouldn't know that they actually had sex if both of them weren't naked in the morning after with some tied up condoms in the trash can.
But Remi was hinting that she wouldn't mind doing it again. A few touches here and a suggestive tone there. Fucking hell, the manager even made her voice a bit more silky when they were having a time out the other day. It doesn't take a genius to know that Remi has been making moves on him for the last few months.
For being a part-time manager that only works for their team in the next two months, she really thought she can trap the best pitcher in her claws.
The catcalls and the 'couple' jokes from the team didn't help either.
He could barely handle Remi on a daily basis with her ego. He's pretty sure he would crash and burn on handling Remi in a relationship.
"I'll be rooting for you." Suguru patted him a few times in the back before taking his glass away with him to disappear into the crowd. ‘Rooting for me means you wouldn’t leave me alone with that girl,’ he wanted to say, but it was already too late.
He could see Remi was making her way towards him.
Shit.
Suguru usually was so perceptive about him, he doesn’t know why he’s not now. Maybe Remi already talked to him into it.
Fuck.
Satoru looked around at his surroundings, scrambling to get some help while being subtle about it. His eyes are searching the crowd, desperately trying to find someone he could talk to. Just, anyone would do as long as they’re not part of a gang, have STDs, a rabid fan, or their name is not Remi.
Satoru glanced back up towards the blond’s direction, immediately regretting it when he saw Remi winked at him with a predatory glint in her eyes. He never wanted to run away so badly until now.
It's not like he can't reject Remi or something like that, but rejecting Remi in his face, right in this crowded bar, with their team eavesdropping just a few feet away, the aftermath would be more than just a bitch to handle.
She was supposed to be with their team as part of training for becoming a permanent manager in the second string, so Utahime and Coach Yaga specifically asked them—mostly Satoru—to go to her for work purposes.
He groaned as he remembered the time where Satoru scolds her for spreading the rumors. Safe to say, the manager was throwing tantrums of the century after that, going as far as trying to make him jealous as she flirted with other players.
As if.
But when Remi gave up on complaining to her and started to go to other managers, Remi would throw another tantrum based out of jealousy, saying that he's not taking care of his cute manager, the one he is supposed to train so she can become a fully fledged manager.
Damned if you do and damned if you don't.
What did he do to deserve this kind of situation?
But if he accepts her advances the mess would be too big to be taken care of.
Satoru digs the heel of his palm on his forehead, trying to ignore the oncoming headache while searching for the right answer in this kind of situation.
Remi sensually slides into the booth beside him, smirking at him in her own sexy way that could make anyone bow to her desire, but Satoru is not having it right now.
He looked up to see Remi opening her mouth to say something. He could do nothing except closing his eyes, bracing for his impending doom in any second. He holds onto the last thread of his hope, wishing that maybe fate could get his ass out of this situation right now, considering they’re the one who gets him into this mess in the first place.
And fate grants his wish.
Something wet splashes him from the side, drenching his hair and taints his white shirt. The sound of glass clinking to the floorboards echoed through all the noises.
"I'm so sorry!" Someone loudly apologized right beside his ear. Satoru hand shots up to plug his ear with one of his fingers, wincing at the volume.
The pitcher was about to scold the other person about using indoor voices, until his breath was taken away by mesmerizing amber.
The boy looked a few years younger than him, maybe in his early twenties judging by the baby fat that still hangs around. Unusual pink locks shine from the top of his head, with his undercut dyed in black. Satoru swore he could feel how soft they are only from looking.
He was fussing over the wet stain on Satoru's shirt, rather annoyingly. Although his eyes are filled with concern and fear, there's something akin to a burning ember hidden behind those brown eyes.
Satoru gulped, his anger quickly dissipated, almost as if it wasn't there at all.
"Ah, no, it's okay." It seems like his words decided to leave with his anger. The brown-eyed—God, he has amber for eyes—boy asked the bartender for a napkin in a rush. Satoru couldn't do anything besides sitting sweetly on his seat, watching the whole spectacle unfold.
"You brat, are you fucking blind? How can you trip over nothing and spill your drink all over him?" Remi's temper rises in rage, the boy could only whimper and repeats his apology.
"Remi, it's okay, I'm sure he didn't mean it." Satoru's words interrupted the manager in front of him just as she was about to scream at the poor boy.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, here let me," The boy received the dry napkin from the bartender and excused himself to wipe the liquid from Satoru's shirt. He lifted up the end of Satoru's shirt and his fingers accidentally brushed against the pitcher's abs, leaving tingles across his skin.
'Ugh, his effect on me is rather dangerous.'
Satoru bit his lip as he watched the boy furiously wipe his shirt with gleaming intensity in his eyes. Satoru looked up to see Remi pursing his lips in frustration. The pitcher concealed a chuckle. He must be mad getting interrupted in his cool moment like that. White shirt aside, this boy serves him as his savior and his source of entertainment on this shitty night.
"Hey, it's okay, you don't have to do that anymore." Satoru grabbed the boy's wrist— it’s warmth, is his heart beating a little bit faster? —and stopped the boy's action. "It's just a shirt, I'm sure I could survive."
The pitcher snickered when the boy went wide-eyed at his words. "Are you sure? Promise me that you won't sue me or anything like that?"
The snickers turned into a full-blown laugh hearing the kid’s comment. "Of course not, what the hell do you think I am?"
The boy looked away with a slight flush on his cheeks. "I thought you were some big shot or something..." he mumbled under his breath.
Another laugh attacked Satoru's lungs. "What makes you think that!?"
"Well, you're so attractive and you acted like you're better than anyone in here with that condescending gaze!" He resorted to his outdoor voice again.
Satoru's hold on his wrist tightened and tugged him closer. "You think I'm attractive?" His voice dropped a few pitches, a light growl rumbled from his throat. The pitcher takes in the blooming blush on the boy's face, right until the tip of his ears.
He almost licked his lips at the sight, but he managed to hold the motion.
"Is that the only part you're focusing on?!" His blush now reached the bottom of his neck.
Now, Satoru doesn't hold back the motion to lick his lips.
With their close distance, he could hear the shallow breath the boy was taking.
He was about to tease him further, prodding him even more, to see other fun reactions he could get from the boy. Remi just had to ruin it by slamming her glass on the countertop.
"So, what business do you have? You can go away, now that the matter has been settled." Remi's left hand made a shooing motion.
A nerve popped on Satoru's shoulder. Could he just have one moment of fun without Remi ruining it for her egoistical benefit?
That's it. He's gonna reject whatever Remi's wishes beyond this point, consequences be damned.
"Um, actually, no."
Satoru whipped his head at the boy beside him. Satoru knows that he’s practically beaming at him with the way he stared at the boy right now. He couldn't care less about being seen with an open emotion on his face, he was busy worshiping (and ogling) his savior right now.
"I was going to ask him for a favor before you interrupted, and it threw me off." The boy looked to the side before staring straight at Remi.
This boy just challenged the egoistical manager right to his face, he's pretty sure his dick twitched at the sight.
"What did you—"
"What kind of favor?" Satoru cuts Remi off, giving his full attention to the boy. The flush is back again on the boy's cheek, but now it was accompanied by a blinding smile.
There's a faraway thought in Satoru's mind, where he imagines that the smile changed into that of a cocky, seducing one, as he pressed his cock right in the corner of his lips—
Okay, you went too far there, Satoru. Stop it before you get a public boner.
"I just lost my phone and I was about to ask for your help since you seemed so free earlier. But is it too much for me to ask?"
His stomach dropped at the request, disappointment blared through his chest. He knows he has no expectations, considering the boy already saved him the trouble of a lifetime tonight, but it still hurts to hear it.
Satoru swallowed back a sigh as he brought out his phone from the back pocket. "It's okay, what's your number?" The boy's eyes became concerned at the difference in Satoru's tone, and he almost felt bad considering the boy really did need his help. And it's not like he could refuse those puppy eyes anyway.
Satoru absentmindedly typed in the numbers as the boy rattled it off. At least he could get his number out of this. Maybe he will call him one of these days, hoping he will be up for a cup of coffee. Maybe he will call him tomorrow. Maybe tonight.
Damn, is he that desperate?
"Okay, I'm calling it." Satoru pressed the call button on his screen. There's suddenly a catchy ringtone coming out from the boy's back pocket. Satoru stared confusedly when the boy pulled out his vibrating phone and turned off the call.
The boy then smirks at him— oh god —showing one of his fangs before bringing his phone to his lips.
"I'm sorry, but thank you for your numbers!" He winks at the end and Satoru's pretty sure he would die from cuteness and blue balls at the same time.
"What?!" Remi stands from her seat and slamming the countertop in outrage. Ah Remi, as possessive as ever. Sorry not sorry, this is your battle to lose, girl .
Satoru laughed at his trick, the disappointment he felt earlier now replaced with euphoria. "What a smartass, huh?" He smirked at the boy in a proud sense.
The boy shrugged half-heartedly with that smirk still in his face, as if he was expecting this outcome. "I really need to secure my win, y'know?"
Ah, this is the best. This guy is the best. He just turned Satoru's possibly worst night ever to the best night of his life. He really should believe in fate more often if it could get him chances like this everytime.
"So what name should I secure the newly-gained numbers in my phone with?" Satoru winks at the boy and he feels like he won a lottery when the boy's eyes widened and his smirk stretched further.
"You could put it in as Yuuji, and for my number?" His head tilted to the side as he turned on his phone.
"You could put it in as Yours, but you can also use Gojo Satoru." The pitcher snickered at the blushing face he received in response.
"I know. Giants’ main pitcher, the Ace?" Surprise fell onto Satoru’s face. "Oh, you know some baseball?" Satoru replied, not expecting him to be one of his fans.
"I play baseball," he extends out one of his hands towards Satoru. "Itadori Yuuji, future main catcher of the Giants."
Satoru vaguely remembered a guy named Itadori at the back of his head. It has something to do with Utahime and addition to the team. She said he would be arriving this week because he would be moving from Sendai. She also said that the guy has a killer throw and strong hands for catching. Satoru just dismissed it as another new member he probably forgets about. Getting his hopes up before seeing the real thing would be a bad one.
But to meet him here, in a bar nonetheless, saving him from Remi's clutch to boot. It's just his luck that he's a cute guy and just his type too.
Satoru laughed as he sling his arm around the pinkett's shoulder, leading him away from the bar (and Remi). "Well, it is what it is. Sorry Remi, but I got a game of catch with my future partner over here, so I'm going first!"
Satoru couldn't hold back the smug smile on his face when he heard Remi's incomprehensible rage behind him.
Itadori laughed quietly beside him. "So you do have a rotten personality, huh?" He hides his smile behind his hand.
Satoru just ruffled his hair in retaliation. "Shut it, you asked for this rotten guy's number."
“Well, you were also in trouble back then, weren’t you?” Itadori tilted his chin up as if saying ‘prove me wrong’. “I can't leave the famous pretty boy ace pitcher of the Giants in a slump like that.
This brat.
“So, you think I’m pretty, huh?” Satoru rubbed his chin.
“N-no! That's what the magazines called you all the time!” Ah, he went wide-eyed again. Cute.
“You read articles about me?” Satoru brushed his index finger to comb back a stray lock behind Itadori's ear.
“I’m-It’s! Ugh!” His cuteness cranks up even more when those blushes are painted across his skin. He wonders how far the blushes would run down on his body.
“Haha, don't worry, I think you're pretty too,” Itadori beamed at him in pure adoration. “Pretty cute, that is.”
He explodes again. Satoru laughed as he ruffled the pitcher’s hair rather fondly.
Itadori then looked at him from under those ridiculously long eyelashes. "So, a game of catch?"
"Well, maybe I could also get a date out of that, but I really need to secure my win, y'know?" Satoru jokes. Itadori looks at him with a heated glint in his eyes.
"Bring it on." The husky voice sends another strike of heat to Satoru's groin.
"So you sure you can catch my 150km/h pitches?"
"Why don't you see it for yourself?”
Satoru woke up the next morning covered in scratches across his back, his clothes mixed with the newly-scouted catcher's, as he stared at the gloves in the corner of the room. When a pair of arms hugged his naked waist and a hickey-covered body tried to bring itself closer to him, Satoru concluded that Suguru could live a little longer.
His personal life and career is going to be much more fun after this.