You swore to never trust a man again, to never love a man again. After years of betrayal, of pain, of abuse from the hands of every man that promised you love; you swore to yourself that you wouldn’t fall for it anymore. Until you met him. You tried, you really did try to not fall for him. You trued convincing yourself, reminding yourself, that he was still just a man. But he was so good at making himself more than just a ‘man’.

You tried to remind yourself that he was a man, that all men’s hands were good for was causing harm and pain. But his were different. His hands that brushed the hair fron your face so gently, as if your skin was made of the most fragile glass in the world. You tried to remind yourself that he was still a man, that being in bed with a man just meant pain and selfishness. But his bed was different. The way he took you under his arm in care. He was different.

Satoru Gojo had taken you to his place after saving you from a bad mission went wrong, he bandaged you up, healed you as best he could, gave you warm clothes. He set you into his bed before turning to leave, he knew how you were, he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Until he felt a weak grip on his shirt, gently trying to pull him back. He turned his gaze, staring at you in surprise..