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After three long years as CEO of the Gojo Corporation, Satoru’s learned to expect the worst projects his family throws at him. Despite his flippant attitude, he’s actually very good at his job, thank you very much.
So, when his parents, along with a slew of executives show up in his office one morning and tell him he’s being sent to America of all places to expand business ventures, Satoru’s brain short-circuits a little.
Of course he says no, and of course everyone starts their usual bullshit:
“Well, son, with your skillset, we can’t have you sitting around all day—”
“It’s bad for the company to stagnate, Gojo-san. This data shows—”
“You’re not seeing anyone, so what’s the issue, Satoru? Unless there’s—”
It’s all so irritating, and Satoru can’t hear himself think over the commotion around him. He can feel a migraine coming on already; is about to open his mouth and tell everyone to get out, but then the door opens, and—
“Gojo-san! Good morn—oh,” a soft, boyish voice cuts through the noise, and Satoru looks up, taking in pink hair, a sheepish smile, and a very young-looking face. “Sorry! I didn’t realize you had a prior engagement!” He bows deeply, and, judging by the badge around his neck, this Itadori Yuuji is Satoru's new secretary.
In that moment, Satoru realizes a golden escape route.
“No, no, anything for you,” Satoru practically purrs, smiling widely as he beckons Itadori closer.
There’s a prior engagement to be announced, after all.
“...Gojo-san?” Itadori hesitantly comes to stand in front of him.
Taking a deep breath, Satoru pulls his new secretary close, noting lean muscle beneath his fingertips despite Itadori’s baby face—which, he really ought to talk to Nanami about who’s being hired, because surely they’re not sending kids over to Satoru now—and schools his expression into one of utmost sincerity.
“Ahem. Mother, Father…the real reason why I can’t go to America is because, well…” He loops an arm around Itadori’s shoulders, hand ghosting down to curl around Itadori’s surprisingly slender waist.
“…We’re getting married.”
The room immediately quiets, and luckily for Satoru, Itadori’s the type to not be fazed so easily.
He’ll definitely regret his words later, but the chaos that ensues after his mother faints is definitely worth it.
There’s a pair of eyes on him. Warm golden ones the color of honey, ones that widened in shock and disbelief earlier after Satoru’s sudden announcement. Satoru doesn’t blame his new secretary for the unfiltered reaction—he’s reacting better than Satoru would, that’s for sure.
Truthfully, what’s surprising is the fact that Itadori Yuuji hasn’t quit on the spot yet. It makes Satoru curious; makes him wonder if Itadori’s after something like all his other secretaries were.
Gaze still focused on his paperwork, Satoru wonders how those eyes will look when he looks up.
Will they be shining with anger? Greed? Glee at being engaged to the Gojo heir?
And so, he looks up, and sees—
Concern.
…Huh. Didn’t expect that.
“…Something wrong, Itadori-kun?” Satoru asks, casually reaching for the pile of folders in front of him.
Itadori doesn’t answer at first, just continues staring at him. Eventually, he steps forward, hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck, “I’m just confused, Gojo-san.”
“About?”
“...About the engagement,” Itadori answers carefully, as if afraid to say the words. “Surely you’re not going to…” he trails off, chewing his bottom lip. When Satoru raises an eyebrow at him, Itadori swallows, before continuing. “Well. It’s just—you’re really going to marry someone like me?”
“Why not marry someone like you?” Satoru tosses back.
“Uh. You’re Gojo Satoru, and I’m just…” Itadori gestures to his clothing, his dyed hair, and the rough scars on his hands, “a guy from Sendai,” he says honestly.
Satoru blinks, Itadori’s worry catching him by complete surprise.
How…sincere. Is this kid for real?
He huffs a laugh, deciding to humor him. “You’re a sentimental one, aren’t you, Itadori-kun? That’s sweet of you to ask, but don’t worry about it.”
Itadori frowns. “But your family—”
Satoru raises a finger between them, effectively cutting Itadori off. “Listen—you’re new to this job, so let me tell you how it’s done around here.” He pushes his paperwork away, folding his hands together in front of him and making sure to hold Itadori’s gaze.
“You’re only a secretary right now. Want promotions until you’re in a position like mine? Then you gotta reel in a big fish, and hang onto them for the entire ride,” Satoru tells him, looking at Itadori over the rim of his sunglasses.
“And since this is my company, I’m your lifeline. Get through this ‘marriage’ of ours, and after my parents find some other poor soul to send overseas, we’ll get a quickie divorce and you can even get a recommendation from me to transfer away if you want. Understand?” Satoru smiles.
Itadori looks like he doesn’t understand, his eyes simmering with hurt for a second that Satoru only feels slightly guilty about, but he doesn’t rebuke Satoru, either.
“...Tokyo sure is scary,” Itadori eventually sighs, and Satoru chuckles.
“Yes, and especially the women, so be glad you’re now a taken man. Now, do you have any more questions for me, dear fiancée of mine?” Satoru winks.
Itadori splutters, taking a moment to recover before fiddling with his notebook.
“I was thinking—can I get to know you better at least, Gojo-san? I want to take this seriously and responsibly since, you know…we’re gonna be married and all.”
Pleasantly surprised once again, Satoru considers the request. “Well aren’t you old fashioned? Fine by me, but no backing out if you don’t like what you find.”
“I won’t back out, Gojo-san. This is important, so leave it to me!” Itadori does a mock-salute, amber eyes glowing with determination, and oh, he’s kind of adorable, Satoru thinks.
He glances up at the clock, where the time’s way too early for a break but Satoru doesn’t care.
“Well then. Lunch? My treat.” Satoru leans back in his chair, giving Itadori a sly smile.
And then whatever it is, you can lay it all on me.
As it turns out, Satoru doesn’t need to do much, because Itadori’s surprisingly easy to talk to. He likes movies and sports, and responds to anything Satoru says with youthful gusto and enthusiasm, which…isn’t bad at all, actually. Satoru could get used to those honeyed eyes looking up at him.
(Still, though, he can’t help but do a final check.)
“Just to be sure, Itadori-kun…you’re eighteen, right? I’m not gonna get in trouble here for marrying you?”
A wounded noise comes out from Itadori’s mouth.
“Wha— yes, Gojo-san! I’m twenty, you know?!”
Satoru shrugs.
“Could’ve fooled me. So, about the Human Earthworm series…”
Itadori Yuuji, Satoru quickly learns, is an extremely good-hearted person.
He’s thoughtful enough to bring little treats and pick-me-ups without prompting, considerate enough to remember Satoru’s favorites after just one meal together (and start bringing him homemade bentos), and, from an overheard exchange the other day, honest enough to even defend Satoru from petty gossip.
(He remembers it vividly, walking down the corridor and hearing a no-name worker say loudly, “So, Itadori—heard you’re getting hitched to the big boss, eh? It’s too bad he’s got a shit personality, or else you’d be set for life. How’d you land a big one like that anyway?”
And then Itadori’s surprisingly quick response of “Excuse me—Gojo-san’s a good person. Please don’t talk about my fiancée like that,” in a low, warning tone that Satoru’s never heard before, and honestly wouldn’t mind hearing again on his behalf.)
Satoru’s never been clingy, but he’s starting to find that he doesn’t mind Itadori’s presence.
It’s the little things here and there he enjoys, like their shared humor, the way Itadori just seems to get Satoru, the way they can communicate without speaking, and eventually, it all culminates into something… more.
“I've been meaning to tell you—feel free to invite any relatives to the wedding. You don’t have to of course, but for believability…” Satoru trails off, turning to Itadori with a knowing smile.
He expects Itadori’s usual ‘Great idea, Gojo-san!’ in return, but hurt passes over his face instead, and something twists in Satoru’s gut.
“Don’t tell me there’s a secret lover I don’t know about?” He chuckles, automatically defaulting to a joke, but his full attention is on Itadori’s face.
Because I was never great at sharing, Satoru doesn’t say. The possessive nature of the thought takes him by surprise, and he quickly looks away, opting to take a big sip of his drink instead.
He grimaces as the alcohol burns his throat—he hates the taste, but when important clients want to do business over drinks, what’re you supposed to do?
…Not stay behind with your cute, young secretary, probably, Satoru thinks acridly.
“It’s not that.” Itadori shakes his head. “It’s just…I don’t have any family, Gojo-san,” he confesses, eyes far away as he absently stirs his Cinderella mocktail.
“Oh.” Satoru shifts in his seat, unsure of what to say. “I’m sorry.”
Itadori’s eyes widen, his hands flying into the air as he turns to Satoru. “Ah—don’t worry about it, Gojo-san! It’s fine, I didn’t mean to bring the mood down.”
“The mood’s still fine,” Satoru reassures him, and takes another sip of his drink. “But what about your friends? You want them to come too?”
Itadori tenses a bit at that, his face suddenly tired. “Well, I wanted to , but, uh…I feel like they’d just cause you trouble,” he sighs, rubbing his temples. “They’re suspicious of the marriage. Megumi, especially.” Itadori deflates, but then perks up, like he just remembered something.
“Oh, right—Megumi says he knows you?”
“Ah, of course Megumi-chan would have something to say.” Satoru rolls his eyes. At Itadori’s confused expression, he chuckles, sliding closer to him, his voice dropping low into a hushed whisper, “his family’s one of our biggest competitors…or so they’d like to think.”
“Oh, and also, his dad got paid to attack me once. But now he’s on my payroll as a security guard, so that just shows you where the man’s morals lie,” Satoru says nonchalantly, and Itadori makes a sound of disbelief.
“No way! I didn’t know Fushiguro-san did that!”
Satoru shrugs, fighting to keep a straight face. “Megumi was still a snotty brat when it happened. It was a product of doing business at the time.”
Itadori strokes his chin, making his I see, I don’t get it face that Satoru’s grown quite fond of, before he has that distant look in his eyes again.
“Either way, sorry if this makes things less believable, Gojo-san,” Itadori says softly. “I wish I had family to invite, but it was just me and jiichan back in Sendai. He took care of me until he got sick, then it was up to me to take over.” Itadori leans forward, folding his arms over the table and resting his cheek on them.
“Luckily, everyone was supportive. I got jobs, helped people…then my friends convinced me to follow my dreams to come to the big city. I wanted to work in healthcare, but I’m having fun here, so…I don’t regret anything.” Itadori turns his face to Satoru then, and his smile is so warm and fond that Satoru’s overcome with the mad urge to lean in, hide Yuuji’s face from view, and…and kiss him.
Wait, what?
A slow flush blooms along Satoru cheeks, and he’s immediately grateful for the dim lighting of the bar they’re in. Guilt soon creeps its way into his chest—guilt at the differences between his and Yuuji’s lives, guilt at the condescending way he spoke to Yuuji when they first met, guilt at the way he was born into privilege and status while Yuuji fought tooth and nail just to survive, guilt at the way Yuuji looks up to him, hangs onto his every word, while Satoru’s not the best role model at all —
And most importantly, guilt at the way he wants Yuuji, and all the youthful optimism that comes with him.
“Gojo-san?” Yuuji leans into Satoru’s space, close enough that Satoru can see his eyelashes.
Satoru’s throat suddenly feels dry. “Sorry. Spaced out a little there. I, uh…I’m sorry things were hard for you,” he says lamely.
He sits up straight, trying to find a better train of thought.
“But you know, coming to a brand new city, taking care of yourself like this—you’re strong, Yuuji. You always swing for the fences, just like me.” He reaches a hand out and pats Yuuji’s head, ruffling the soft pink strands there.
“Ironically, I have a cousin from Sendai who’ll be coming to the wedding.”
Yuuji cocks his head to the side, curious. “Cousin? Who is it, if you don’t mind me asking? It’s a small town, so I was just wondering…”
At the polite hesitance in Yuuji’s voice, Satoru frowns, one hand reaching out to flick Yuuji’s forehead.
“Ow!”
“Silly Yuuuuji,” Satoru huffs, and… oh, he thinks, wondering when Itadori became Yuuji in his mind.
“That hurt!”
“Good. It’s been months, stop being so polite all the time. We’re gonna be married, you can boss me around and sass me, I don’t mind.”
Yuuji starts to protest, but Satoru cuts him off.
“My cousin is Okkotsu Yuuta, he runs a seasonal clinic down there. Not sure if you know him?”
Satoru instantly regrets saying the words, because Yuuji's entire demeanor changes.
“Okkotsu-san?!” Yuuji asks, his eyes brightening, “Yes, I know him! He’s super cool, he helped a lot when jiichan was sick! That’s so cool, I didn’t know he was your cousin…small world, isn’t it, Gojo-san?” Yuuji beams, and Satoru, suddenly overcome with petty jealousy (because of the alcohol, he tells himself), falters on how to respond.
“...Yeah, small world indeed,” he murmurs, and downs the rest of his drink.
He doesn’t remember much after that—just registers a gentle hand in hair, fond laughter in his ear, and then a warm jacket around his shoulders, one that smells like citrus detergent.
He’s dimly aware of being led to his car, nonsense falling from his lips as he rests against plush leather seats, and then before he knows it, his thoughts become occupied by Yuuji.
Yuuji, who wears his heart on his sleeve and genuinely wants to help Satoru (and anyone else, for that matter) even if there’s nothing for him in return—the list could go on, and Satoru finds it harder and harder to pretend that this engagement is fake , because at the end of it all, the one detail that absolutely tears him apart is that Yuuji is incredibly, unfathomably kind.
So kind that somewhere along the way, Satoru’s fallen in love with him, and he can’t do anything about it, because they’ve already planned their subsequent divorce.
“Gojo-san? Gojo-san, we’re here,” Yuuji’s voice breaks through the rabbit hole of his thoughts, and Satoru leans towards the direction of it, pressing his cheek against the warm skin of Yuuji’s palm.
“You really can’t hold your liquor,” Yuuji laughs, his hands steadying Satoru as he takes them into Satoru’s apartment building.
They stumble into the elevator, and then into Satoru’s unit, Yuuji murmuring reassurances to him the whole time.
Sometime later, Satoru finds himself tucked into his own bed, his clothes and hair no doubt a mess, but it’s okay, because he can allow Yuuji to be the only one to see him like this.
“Goodnight, Gojo-san,” Yuuji murmurs, and Satoru once again feels gentle fingers card through his hair.
He was doomed from the start wasn’t he?
“I’ll see you on Monday.” Yuuji makes to leave, but something spurs Satoru to reach out and grab his hand.
“Wait, Yuuji,” he slurs, barely aware of what he’s saying.
“Yes, Gojo-san?”
“Let’s go to Sendai,” Satoru blurts out. “You and me. We can get married there. I wanna…wanna get your grandpa’s blessing.”
Yuuji’s eyes widen at his words, his mouth opening slightly before he shakes his head.
“...You’ve had a lot to drink, Gojo-san. You should go to bed.”
Satoru makes a protesting noise.
“I mean it,” he says firmly, tugging Yuuji closer. “I wanna see your hometown. And eat kikufuku. We’re going, okay?” He cups Yuuji’s face with both his hands and squishes Yuuji’s cheeks together.
Yuuji hesitates, but places a hand over Satoru’s and leans into the touch, his head dipping downwards.
“Okay,” he murmurs, and Satoru nods, finally satisfied.
He lays back down, and Yuuji doesn’t let go of his hand until he falls asleep.
Satoru pulls down his sunglasses, squinting at the large crowd gathered outside the Sendai airport doors.
“...Yuuji.”
“...Yes, Gojo-san?”
“You a celebrity here or something?”
“No!”
Satoru squints again, staring at the neon posters everyone and their mother seems to be holding up that read WELCOME BACK, ITADORI YUUJI! ❤️
“What’s all this then?” He says accusingly. “I don’t see my name on these posters, and I’m the Gojo heir!”
Yuuji buries his face in his palms. “Ugh, I told them they didn’t have to…”
“Well, at least we have a warm reception.” Satoru shrugs, but inwardly, he’s flailing, because he’s going to have to act like Yuuji’s loving fiancée in front of Yuuji’s entire hometown, despite not being Yuuji’s loving fiancée.
Even though he wants to be Yuuji’s loving fiancée.
Taking a deep breath, Satoru turns to Yuuji, and gives him the most charming smile he can muster.
“You ready?” He holds out his hand.
“Yes,” Yuuji replies, and links their fingers together.
Here in Sendai, Satoru hopes to win more than just the hearts of the local people—he wants to be the one Yuuji can depend on; the one Yuuji can be happy with.
And so, wedding band heavy in his pocket, Satoru walks forward, and makes a decision: they arrived in Sendai as Gojo Satoru and Itadori Yuuji, and they’ll leave as Gojo Satoru and Gojo Yuuji.
Or maybe I’ll take the Itadori name, who knows?
But until then—this will have to do.