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"What are you doing here?" Nobara snaps, stabbing her finger at Satoru as he swans into the dormitory common room.
Satoru gestures grandly down at himself, at the pajama pants and slippers peeking out from under his silken nightrobe. Isn't it obvious? He's even traded his blindfold for an eyemask! "Sorcerers need to read context clues, Nobara-chan," he sings at her, and cackles when she hurls the television remote at him. It bounces off of Infinity, skidding across the floor with a clatter.
"Itadori probably invited him," Megumi sighs from his spot in front of the television.
Truth be told, Satoru had fully intended to crash their little slumber party anyway — how could they throw one without him? He's great at slumber parties, probably —but—
"He did!" he crows, remembering again the fizzy happiness that had sparked through him like fireworks when he'd read Yuuji's text. "How could I say no to my favorite student?"
On cue, Yuuji bustles into the room, arms full of snacks. Satoru spots his favorite candy, piled in with the rest, and his heart does a pleased little pirouette. Yuuji is so good to him.
"Sensei! You made it."
"I'm here, Yuuji-kun!" He flounces over to him, draping himself across his broad shoulders, and Yuuji laughs but doesn't shove him off, accepting his weight with ease. He's sturdy and strong, warm under Satoru, and fuck, Satoru's missed this —missed Yuuji— so damn bad. His house is so empty now; Yuuji took all the light and life with him when he left. "I wouldn't miss spending the night with you for anything!"
Yuuji flushes a fetching shade of pink and Satoru's smile widens. He tilts his head to press their cheeks together so he can feel the heat of it, ignoring Nobara's disgusted sound and Megumi's heavy sigh.
"We were just about to play a game," Yuuji tells him as they join the others, taking seats on the floor so that they form a relaxed little ring, blankets and pillows piled around them. Satoru wriggles into Yuuji's space while he distributes the snacks, folding his legs up so that his thigh presses along the length of Yuuji's, a grounding line of warmth. It earns him a bright smile and a renewal of that cute little blush as Yuuji passes him his candy, so sweet that Satoru isn’t all that interested in the treat anymore.
“I love games!” he declares, instead of confessing that much. If he’s too over-the-top, Nobara and Megumi will shut him down hard and the night will be ruined. He claps his hands. “What's first?”
There’s an awkward moment of silence. Yuuji scratches the back of his head. “Uh, not sure,” he admits. “None of us have really had a sleepover before.”
“Whatttt?” Satoru gasps, scandalized. “Seriously?”
“Like you have?” Nobara asks, rude, arms crossed over her chest.
“As a matter of fact, I have!” Satoru declares proudly. It’s not that much of a lie. He and Shoko have them all the time, if you count the times he breaks into her home and makes her listen to him complain while she gets progressively more drunk. “Don't worry, Sensei is here to guide you.”
And that’s how it starts. Megumi unearths a dusty box of Monopoly that Satoru recognizes from when he lived in the dorms, but things quickly devolve into violence and they put it away in favor of a movie. It's one Satoru has seen, and he's scrolling his phone for ideas on what to do next when he sees it, in big bold lettering like the brush strokes of God:
SPIN THE BOTTLE
A vision comes to Satoru, gold-lit and glowing, accompanied by a chorus of angels: Yuuji, blushing pink and oh so pretty, peeking up through the fluttering veil of his lashes and lifting his chin to offer Satoru the plush little pout of his mouth.
He— H-he could— He…He swallows. His cheeks heat.
He could kiss Yuuji.
Satoru’s ears ring at the mere idea; his mouth goes dry. Around him, his students are still throwing suggestions around, but none of them matter. "We're playing this," he declares, presenting his phone screen like a royal decree. As one, they lean in to read it.
"No way."
"Fuck off."
"Uh, Sensei—"
"It's slumber party tradition," Satoru insists over the chorus of protests. "We have to!" They're going to.
"That's true," Yuuji says, suddenly looking thoughtful. "It's in all the movies. We should at least give it a few spins, get the full sleepover experience." He turns to look at the others, eyes shining, so earnest and so freshly returned from the dead, and Satoru knows they're going to fold before their faces even soften.
"Yuuji-kun!" he wails happily, throwing his arms around the boy's shoulders and shaking them back and forth in excitement. His lips are already tingling in anticipation.
Yuuji chugs the rest of his drink and slaps the bottle down between them, the marble rattling around inside when he gives it a test twirl. It spins neatly, stopping on Satoru like a magnet finding true north, but Megumi throws his can at him when he leans in to give Yuuji his prize.
"We haven't started yet," he snarls, and Satoru slumps back with a pout but doesn't complain — too much. He'll have his kiss from Yuuji soon. It's literally fate.
Satoru insists on going first, twirling the bottle with all the gravitas of a religious ceremony. The deafening clatter of the glass marble is drowned out by the hammering of his heart; he swears the room is spinning in time, swaying dizzily as it slowly comes to a stop, light gleaming along its edge like a beacon to point at….Nobara.
“No.” She doesn't hesitate, barely bothering to look up from her phone. Megumi is next. He spins, and Satoru’s heart stops when the bottle slows with a wobble, swaying slightly before landing almost dead-center on Yuuji.
Yuuji grins. “Alright!” he cheers, and leans forward, hands on his knees and head tilted upwards. Megumi leans closer. The world slows down. Yuuji seems impatient, shifting his weight a little.
“On the cheek!” Satoru shouts, suddenly desperate, flinging his hands out, getting himself between sweet, innocent Yuuji and Megumi’s scowling face. It had never even occurred to him that somebody else might land on Yuuji. There is no way Satoru can sit here and watch Megumi swindle Yuuji out of his (first? Satoru feels breathless at the very idea. The room is spinning again) kiss.
“Obviously,” Megumi growls around the hand pressed to his face. “I’m not kissing Itadori for real.”
Oh. Still suspicious, Satoru watches with sharp eyes as Megumi finally leans in, gripping Yuuji by the shoulder and pressing a quick peck to his cheek. It barely counts as anything, much less a kiss, but something uncomfortably like jealousy seethes in Satoru’s stomach. He was supposed to kiss Yuuji! Megumi and Nobara weren’t even supposed to get involved.
Oblivious to Satoru’s internal anguish, Nobara takes her spin, sending the glass whirling with a bored flick of her fingers. It comes to a stop halfway between Yuuji and Satoru, and she shamelessly reaches down to turn it towards Yuuji, smacking one on him before Satoru can protest.
Yuuji laughs, pink-cheeked and pleased, and it’s good that he’s having fun, Satoru loves to see him so carefree, but when he spins and the bottle whirls past him a dozen times before winding up pointed at Nobara, Satoru pouts.
“No fair!” he whines, playing up his disappointment to hide how real it is. “I want a kiss too!”
“This stupid game was your idea,” Nobara sniffs, making a face as Yuuji presses a quick, chaste kiss to her cheek. Despite her sour expression, her ears are red. “We didn’t make the rules.”
“Spin again, Sensei!” Yuuji encourages him. He’s smiling so big, and his obvious happiness eases the sting. A little. Sort of.
Right up until Satoru’s spin winds up directed at absolutely nobody. Megumi won’t let him try again, either, and Satoru slumps in his seat, arms crossed and lip poked out while they play another round.
A knee nudges against his, and he reluctantly lifts his head to meet Yuuji’s warm gaze. “Next time, for sure,” he promises, but the third and fourth rounds somehow wind up the same, and Satoru can feel his hope cracking at the edges.
"Somebody has to be cheating!" he snaps when Megumi gets to press yet another kiss to Yuuji's cheek, straying dangerously close to the corner of his frowning mouth when Yuuji turns to look at Satoru. His heart hasn't resumed beating from the last close encounter but he swears he feels it drop right out of his chest. "Watch where you're kissing!"
He's aware he sounds hysterical — he is a little hysterical. None of this has gone to plan. Yuuji! He wants to kiss Yuuji, you stupid bottle! It had all been so perfect in his mind but everything is crumbling to ruin around him. Gojo Satoru, bested by a game of chance.
Megumi's face burns scarlet. "Whatever. I'm done with this."
"Finally," Nobara agrees, getting to her feet. "I ordered a piz-"
"Nobody is leaving!"
His voice echoes in the sudden silence. Satoru’s students are staring at him, all slack jaws and wide eyes, shocked by their cool and suave sensei losing his grip. Megumi’s eyes narrow, considering.
“Sensei,” Yuuji says, voice a little unsure. He shifts closer, turning his body towards him, something uncertain in his eyes, before his jaw firms into resolution. Satoru’s breath catches and he watches Yuuji closely, anticipation zipping through him, bright like lightning and just as electrifying, and then Yuuji is leaning forward, almost like he's going to—
Nobara’s phone shatters the moment like a hammer to a window’s pane, loud and obnoxious, freezing them all in place. She rushes to silence it, but it’s too late; Yuuji slumps back, taking Satoru’s hopes with him. Fate, Satoru realizes glumly, has clearly spoken. He fists his hands in his pockets and hopes he doesn’t look too much like he’s wilting in place.
“The pizza is here,” she says hesitantly, looking between Yuuji and Satoru with a little frown between her brows. “I’ll just—”
“You,” Megumi interrupts, jerking his jaw at Satoru. “Go get it.”
Satoru has half a mind to protest because, hello, he’s the guest here and also he can’t have Megumi thinking he’ll do whatever he tells him to, but the bottle is still sitting between them all like physical evidence of the way fate is laughing at him and Yuuji isn’t meeting his eyes now, picking at his fingers with an air like a kicked puppy, and that’s unacceptable.
Satoru wants to kiss him, yes, but not at the cost of his smile.
And maybe, a little bit, he wants to go lick his wounds in private. He has no idea how things had spiraled out of control so quickly, as fast and chaotic as the spin of the bottle, and when he clambers to his feet he has to strain against the crushing weight of his own disappointment. Failure is like ash in his mouth; he hopes Yuuji can’t see it in the reassuring smile he flashes him before he whisks himself away, heading for the school’s public entrance.
The stars are big and bright in the crisp night sky, twinkling at him in a way that feels distinctly mocking, and Satoru makes a rude gesture up at them before slumping over, shoving his hands into his pockets. He meanders his way across the school grounds, kicking at leaves and generally letting himself mope because this dream, that he's only just realized he's been clinging to for a while, is as distant and lost to him as those stupid stars. Clearly, the universe doesn't think he and Yuuji are meant to be and—
"Gojo-sensei!"
—and now Yuuji is rushing after him, determination on his face and a familiar bottle in his hands.
"Yuuji-kun!" Satoru calls, heart lifting a little from the pit it's been stuck in. It can't lift too high, though, not when the bottle flashes every time Yuuji passes one of the lights lining the path, a stark reminder of the cruel machinations of fate working against him.
"Sensei," he says again when he reaches him. His hair is tousled from running after Satoru, cheeks pinked up from the bite of the wind, and Satoru is struck by aching fondness, a yearning he'd never let himself acknowledge. He curls his hands in his pockets against the desire to reach out for him. Sneaking a kiss in a game is one thing; an outright declaration is another. Even Satoru knows that, and Yuuji's never indicated that he wants anything more than the relationship that they have.
"You forgot to take your last turn," Yuuji says, breathless from running. Satoru feels his stomach twist.
"I'm sure Yuuji-kun is trying to be kind, but fate has made its opinion on the matter very cl—"
"Sensei." Yuuji's voice is firm. He's frowning up at Satoru, shoulders set, but the corner of his mouth is ticked downward and his hands are tight around the glass. He's nervous, and Satoru hasn't quite gotten the hang of refusing him. Actually, he's never even tried.
"Fine," Satoru sniffs, holding out a hand. He's not sure what Yuuji's trying to accomplish here, but his answering smile is bright and relieved and that's enough to get Satoru to kneel and set the bottle on the path, giving it a sharp twirl before standing and stepping back to watch the inevitable.
Only, the thing barely even gets going before Yuuji's foot comes down, pinning it in place, the end pointed directly at himself.
Satoru's heart has stopped so many times tonight, he should probably get it checked. Instead, he hooks his thumb under his sleepmask and tugs it up, staring at Yuuji, completely speechless.
"Fate needed a little help." Yuuji fidgets, self-conscious, and the flash of uncertainty on his face kicks Satoru into motion, has him closing the distance between them to curl his fingers under Yuuji's chin and lift his head to meet his gaze. Yuuji's eyes are wide, and gold, and shining in the starlight with something that has to be hope, and Satoru—
Satoru kisses him. His mouth is warm and plush, sugary from the candy he's been eating and parted just a little, soft and willing. Satoru licks over his lower lip to chase that sweetness and swears he can hear angels blasting on their trumpets as Yuuji copies the motion, clumsy and earnest, stepping closer into Satoru so he can wrap his arms around his neck.
Kissing Yuuji, he quickly decides, is his new favorite thing. He plans to keep doing it for forever. And if the pizza's cold by the time they stumble in, pink-cheeked and beaming, Satoru can't bring himself to care.
It's the best slumber party anyone's ever had.