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    Summary

    “Okay, okay, you win, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Satoru says, finally winding down. His voice flattens, the performance relaxing. “Yeah. You too, Mei.” He hangs up, tosses the phone from one hand to the other, and stands a moment in the centre of the foyer. Suguru thinks for a moment that he’s waiting for a round of applause, or perhaps an Oscar delivered on a silver platter.

    Keen to stay far away from the train wreck that is Gojo Satoru, Suguru keeps moving. His shoes squeak obnoxiously as they make contact with the polished floor, and he tries to focus on that instead. It doesn’t work, and the further he gets from Satoru, the more his brain seems to lag behind. Momentarily, he betrays his own judgement and risks a glance over his shoulder, just as Satoru is rolling his head back, staring at the ornate plaster of the ceiling. The way he moves, even when no one is watching, is like his body obeys rules that no one taught him out loud. Suguru despises that he notices. He despises, even more, that the noticing feels like being shocked by a fully-amped fucking taser.

     

    ///OR: Geto Suguru, a housekeepers son, moves into the Prime Minister’s estate. And then, his son Gojo Satoru happens.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    48,452
    Chapters:
    11/17
    Comments:
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    Kudos:
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