The Strongest | ɢᴏᴊᴏ ꜱᴀᴛᴏʀᴜ

Chapter 25

By the time we get back to the hotel, it's only three, but I'm so full and sweaty and exhausted that I want nothing more than to get off my feet. I think Gojo feels the same, but I can never be sure. His stamina is somewhat of a complex mystery to me.

He's behaving weird. In the sense that he's not behaving weird. He's being normal. I'm being normal, too, so I guess I'm behaving weird as well. It's just... The moment we had in the restaurant felt so real and raw to me, and then we just went back to laughing and teasing each other. Maybe it's kind of nice to know that he can say serious things like that. And that we can still be us afterward.

I mean, what did I expect, really? That we'd stop talking for the rest of the day? That he'd not turn back to his aloof self once he got that stuff off his chest? Did I think we were going to stay serious now? That's just laughable. I should have anticipated that our true nature, the way we are, will always break through. Like the sun breaking through the clouds: No matter how dark and grey they are, at some point, the sun will find an opening and shine through. That's what we're like: No matter how serious we can get, it seems our humor and love for antagonizing each other will still come through.

"I can't wait to take a shower," Gojo groans as he sees himself in the elevator mirror.

I look at him and snort. "Yes, you look awful."

"Thanks," he grins, "I feel like it."

While he does not look awful in the slightest bit, I definitely get what he means. This morning after the mission, we've been too busy with, well, sex to take a shower. And after that, I didn't really feel like leaving his room to take a shower, and I definitely also didn't want to use his shower. So, by now, I feel sticky and gross.

"I just want to lie down for a while," I tell Gojo. "My feet feel like they're too big for my shoes."

He laughs and turns his back to the mirror. "You should have bought some sneakers instead of those red leather sandals."

I roll my eyes at him. "You can't let that go, can you?"

"No," he replies with a grin. "I can't let them go the same way you can't let my shirts go."

"Hey, I haven't said anything about your dumb shirts!"

"Because it didn't come up. But I'm sure you were thinking about them." He leans down again in that patronizing way, belittling me. "Thinking about taking them off." Maybe it's not patronizing at all. Maybe he's -

"I'm not thinking about them," I snap before he or my brain can go any farther.

But Gojo won't be stopped that easily. "Opening the buttons one by one, seeing and feeling how different they are," he says, and his voice is getting quieter. "Taking it off while your fingers graze my arms."

He softly runs his fingers down my arms, and I suppress a shudder. What is he doing?

"And seeing that I'm not wearing anything underneath," he continues, almost whispering now while getting closer to me. I'm trapped between his body and the mirror behind me, but I wouldn't escape from here for the life of me. "Then you touch my chest."

Gojo leans closer, his hands resting against the mirror on either side of me. He's so close now that if I were to tilt my head back, I could kiss him. But I don't. I stay firmly put and don't move at all because if I raise my head, he'll see that I'm blushing.

"And I kiss your neck," Gojo goes on, his lips now close enough to my ear that I can feel his soft breath against my cheek. "And then the elevator doors open."

As predicted, we reach the third floor, and he steps away from me, then chuckles happily as he exits the elevator. I grunt and follow him. Stupid man. What a stupid, stupid man. And how stupid am I? I shouldn't indulge in his foolishness.

I get to my door, and Gojo walks over to his, but neither of us go in. "How much time do you need to rest?" he asks.

I look at him and shrug. "An hour or two."

Both of us start to walk toward each other at the same time, and we meet halfway between our doors. "So... we'll meet around five?" he suggests.

I nod. "That gives us an hour before dinner starts."

"We could walk through the city a little? Then dinner around six?"

"Which means we'll be on our way back home around... eight? Maybe?"

Gojo nods, too. "Which gives us three more hours."

A smile starts to creep onto both of our faces. "Sounds good," I say.

"Good." Gojo heads back for his room, so I do the same. "Have a good rest, then."

"Thanks. Have a good... shower." That's the last thing I say before I close the door behind myself and press my eyes shut in embarrassment. Did I really just say that?

Taking a shower after a day like this feels like heaven on earth. I feel ten times lighter when I step out again. The bathroom is steamy, so I open the door to my room and get started on my hair. I'm wrapped only in a towel and smile at myself in the mirror. There are moments when I hate the way I look, when everything about me just feels wrong. But then I have those moments where I realize just how grateful I am for my body. It's the body that accomplishes so much, that helps to save people, that saves me. Besides, this is the body that's been touched by Gojo Satoru, and if a man like him touches your body, you can't possibly hate anything about it.

I'm still a little mad at him or maybe myself, too, that my eyes were covered the entire time. It was good, yes, it was so amazingly hot, but I barely got to see him. I couldn't really... take it in. And his eyes. Why won't he let me see his eyes? Maybe there's no bigger picture here. Maybe I'm just paranoid, and he actually doesn't care about me seeing his eyes. Or maybe it's just better for him to shield his Six Eyes. I don't know. Either way, next time, I want to see him.

I frown. Next time? I'm not planning on there being a next time, am I? With my hair now dry, I go into my room and fall down on the bed, not even bothering to get dressed. I still have one and a half hours. There probably can't be a next time. We'll be back at the school, surrounded by friends and coworkers every day. My room isn't that far from Gojo's, so that's something, but Shoko's is right between us. She's always complained about having to live so close to Gojo, and so have I, but now I think I'm almost glad. Almost.

It doesn't really matter that our rooms are close or that we might even get a chance alone together. Just because we could, in theory, have a next time doesn't mean that we will. It doesn't mean anything. But this... He means something. How did this happen? How did I let this happen?

Frustrated, I roll to the side and pull my knees up, which makes my towel loosen, but I don't care. I'm all alone here, and the curtains are drawn, so no one can see me. Not even Gojo's Six Eyes. What if we... I just thought," What if we go back to our old patterns?", but then I realized that we never really left them. We never really stopped making fun of each other or being mean. All we did was perceive it differently.

When did that start? When I realized that he was looking over me while I was asleep? Or was it before that, when he saved my life? Or after that, when we had our first dinner together? What was the moment that made me realize he's not as bad as I thought he was? I smile when I think that he must have had that moment, too. When did he realize I wasn't as bad?

I check my phone for any messages or missed calls, which I don't have, then put it away again and close my eyes. I sigh. I can feel my feet pulsating and aching, but even more than that, I can feel the burning need in my chest and between my legs. I've definitely been satisfied earlier. Many times. But apparently, thinking about him is all it takes for me to... get riled up.

Rubbing my thighs together, I try to release some of the tension that's building inside of me, but it doesn't really work. My brain comes up with images I've never seen before, fabricating scenarios for me in my head. Gojo on his knees before me, my leg over his shoulder. I can see myself and him from a third point of view, how I'm on all fours, and he's behind me, his hand in my hair as he pulls at it. Then I remember the woman and the man at dinner, and I see myself on top of Gojo.

I want to try all of those things with him, but I'll probably never get the chance. There won't be a next time.