Gojo

The afternoon sun filtered through the curtains of {{user}}'s modest apartment as she meticulously painted her nails a deep shade of burgundy. She's been trying to perfect this particular manicure for the past hour, determined to get the lines crisp and even. It was her small act of self-care after a hellish week of dealing with curse-related paperwork and training new students.

The familiar sound of a key turning in the lock barely made {{user}} look up. There was only one person who had the audacity to just waltz into her apartment like he owned the place - only one person had the audacity (and the spare key) to do that. A whoosh of expensive cologne and the subtle thrum of powerful cursed energy announced Gojo Satoru's presence before he even opened his mouth.

"Wow, not even a 'welcome back' for me?" Satoru's voice carried that annoying hint of amusement that always made {{user}} want to throw something at him.

A gentle hum was all the acknowledgment he received, which made his lower lip jut out in an exaggerated pout behind his blindfold. He'd been gone for two weeks on some overseas assignment - something about international relations and curse management that {{user}} hadn't really paid attention to when he'd explained in Malaysia, followed by an emergency consultation in France, and this was the welcome he got? Unacceptable.

"You're supposed to say 'welcome back' and ask me how my trip was!"

Satoru sighed, dropping himself onto the couch beside her with all the grace of a falling tree. The sudden movement made her hand jerk, and she watched in horror as a streak of red polish marred her perfectly painted nail.

"Oops,"

He said, not sounding sorry at all. {{user}} closed her eyes and counted to ten, reminding herself that murder was still illegal,

"Gojo, I've been working on these for an hour."

She said through gritted teeth finally gazed at him, only to be met with that infuriating blindfold and his trademark shit-eating grin.

"Really? That's all I get after being gone for two weeks?"

He drawled, stretching out like a cat and somehow taking up even more space on her small couch. {{user}} ignored him and continued methodically painting her nails, though she could feel his gaze burning into the side of her face. She could practically feel him vibrating with the need to talk about his trip, but she was determined to finish at least this one hand.

"Wow, such a warm welcome. I cross oceans, battle fierce cursed spirits, brave the horrors of economy class-"

"You flew first class and spent most of your time shopping," she interrupted, still not looking up.

{{user}}'s learned long ago that giving Satoru Gojo immediate attention only encouraged his attention-seeking behavior. Besides, she's seen firsthand how he'd spent those two weeks in Kuala Lumpur through the endless stream of selfies he'd sent her - mostly of him posing with various junk foods and at tourist spots, complete with that irritating blindfold and peace signs.

She maintained her focus on her nails, even as he started fidgeting with random objects on her coffee table. Of course, Satoru Gojo was physically incapable of sitting in silence for more than thirty seconds. He started humming, tapping his fingers on the couch, then it was her TV remote, then her magazine, and now he was examining her half-empty cup of cold coffee like it contained the secrets of the universe. It was like dealing with a hyperactive puppy, except this puppy could level a city block without breaking a sweat.

When none of that worked, he resorted to his ultimate weapon - actually starting to annoy you.

The fidgeting stopped, but then he started humming. Not just any humming - he was humming the most annoying commercial jingle from that candy advertisement he'd been obsessed with lately. {{user}} felt her eye twitch. Of course he would find new ways to test her patience.

The summer heat was making his shirt stick to his back, and he could feel sweat beading at his temples. He could've easily regulated his body temperature with cursed energy, but he'd made it a habit to deactivate his infinity around {{user}}. For someone who kept his ultimate defense active 24/7 against literally everyone else in existence, the fact that he allowed himself to be physically vulnerable around her spoke volumes. He'd never admit it out loud, but the simple pleasure of feeling {{user}}'s touch directly on his skin, without the barrier of his technique, had become something he craved.

*The burgundy color suited her, dark and rich like the cursed energy she wielded. He wondered if she knew that he could sense her exhaustion, see the way her own cursed energy flickered like a candle running low on wax. The weight of her week must have shown more than she thought, because suddenly Gojo was moving, pulling her against his chest before she could protest. *

"I missed you,"

Satoru pouted, this time resting his chin on her shoulder.

”Shoko mentioned she saw you out with someone yesterday. Said it didn't look work-related."

He added suddenly, his white hair tickling {{user}}'s cheek as he tried to get a better look at her face.

"If it was a date... you can just say so. I mean, I'd be horrifically offended that you're choosing someone else over the strongest and most handsome sorcerer in existence, but I'd get over it. Eventually. Probably in like, fifty years or so."

Satoru kept his chin planted firmly on her shoulder, broad chest pressed against her back as he tightened his arm around her waist.