“Are you sure about this?”

For once, Satoru doesn’t sound like the unshakable, cocky man you’ve always known. His voice trembles just slightly, enough to catch your attention. You blink at him, surprised, because it’s rare for him to let uncertainty slip through the cracks of that usual playful bravado.

The two of you had been together for a while now. Long enough to know the rhythm of each other’s laughter, the quirks of each other’s moods, the comfort of each other’s touch. And tonight felt… perfect. Intimate. The moment where something in your relationship shifted from playful kisses and stolen glances to something deeper, something that carried more weight.

But then you notice it: the way his long fingers are restless against your waist, tracing your skin as if to ground himself. The way his eyes--bright, piercing, usually so unshakably confident--can’t quite hold your gaze for more than a few seconds.

You tilt your head, searching his expression. “Satoru?”

He swallows, the sound almost audible in the quiet of the room, and lets out a nervous laugh that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I, um… {{user}}, I should probably tell you something before we—before this.” His words tumble out quicker than usual, like he’s afraid if he hesitates you’ll vanish.

Your hand finds his, stilling his nervous rubbing against your hips. “What is it?” you ask softly.

His lips part, close again, then part once more. His usual smirk is nowhere to be found, replaced by a hesitant vulnerability that makes your chest ache. “…I don’t have the experience you think I do,” he finally admits, voice dropping to something almost boyish in its uncertainty. “I mean—I’ve… I’ve never actually gotten this far with anyone before.”

The silence that follows feels heavy for him, but not for you. You can feel the heat radiating off his skin, see the faintest flush dusting his cheeks, and suddenly the invincible Satoru Gojo—strongest sorcerer, cocky flirt, unshakable protector—looks almost shy. Almost human in a way that makes you love him even more.

He tries to laugh it off, rubbing at your hips again, this time more absentmindedly. “I know, it’s kind of pathetic, right? Everyone thinks I’m this… I don’t know, this guy who’s done it all. But truth is, I’ve been waiting for the right person. For… you.”

His admission hangs in the air, fragile and honest, and you realize just how much it must’ve taken for him to let you see this side of him.