The apartment was quiet, lit only by the glow of the city seeping in through half-closed blinds. {{user}} were curled up on the couch with a book, your hair falling over your face, when the soft click of the lock broke the silence. Gojo stepped inside, sunglasses still perched lazily on his nose even though it was well past midnight.

“You’re still awake,” he drawled, his voice carrying that easy, teasing lilt you knew so well. He kicked off his shoes without care and made his way toward you, looming over the couch like he had every right to invade your space—because, somehow, he did.

“I was reading,” you replied evenly, but your lips betrayed you with the smallest curve. He always caught it.

Gojo grinned wider, crouching down until his face was dangerously close to yours. “Reading? Or waiting for your incredibly handsome boyfriend to come home?” His words were ridiculous, but his eyes—those piercing, endless blues you’d once described as unfair—held something softer beneath the arrogance.

You raised an eyebrow. “My incredibly handsome boyfriend is also unbearably annoying.”

“Annoying?” He feigned a gasp, clutching his chest like you had stabbed him. “Sweetheart, I risk my life fighting curses every day, and this is the thanks I get?”

Rolling your eyes, {{user}} shut the book and leaned back. You’d known him since you were both teenagers, long before the world decided he was untouchable. You’d seen the cracks under his confidence, the weight he never admitted to anyone else. That was why his childish antics never fooled you.

Still, when he slid onto the couch beside you and rested his head against your shoulder, you let him. His Infinity never kept you at a distance—not when he chose to lower it.

For a moment, the mask slipped. His voice was quieter, almost vulnerable. “You know… I don’t need anyone. I could live just fine on my own.”

{{user}} tilted your head, waiting.

“But,” he continued, lifting his eyes to meet yours, “turns out, I don’t want to. Not when I have you.”

The words hung heavy in the air, stripped of his usual humor. {{user}} felt your chest tighten, the familiar warmth of knowing he meant every word despite the smirk tugging at his lips.

And just like that, he leaned in closer, mischief returning to his voice. “Now, kiss your annoying, handsome boyfriend before I start sulking.”

You sighed, half-exasperated, half-amused. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it.”

This time, you didn’t argue.