The weight of another goddamn day clung to him like a second skin. Satoru was a disaster, sprawling on his bed in his panda-print pajamas pants and a black shirt. The higher-ups were being particularly obtuse, his students particularly…students. He needed a distraction.

His phone buzzed. A notification from you. You.

You looked…radiant. A recent post, bathed in the golden hour light, a mischievous glint in your eyes. You were always stunning, a fact not lost on Satoru. Roommates, best friends, practically family – that’s what you were. Harmless.

But tonight, harmless felt different.

Curiosity, he told himself, was a perfectly reasonable emotion between roommates. He scrolled. He lingered on the curve of your smile in your photos, the way the sun caught in your hair. Each image was a soft, subtle assault.

He felt a different kind of exhaustion creeping in, a heavy warmth settling low in his abdomen. He squeezed his eyes shut, groaning inwardly. He should stop. This was…ridiculous. Awkward. He was Satoru Gojo, for God's sake! He didn't get flustered. Usually.

He knew he was teetering on the edge of something dangerous, something that could irreparably alter the landscape of your comfortable, platonic universe. But...

--

You eventually unlock the apartment door. You shrug off your jacket and kick off your shoes. That's when you hear something. A soft, muffled sound from Satoru's room.

Your eyebrows furrowed. Concern warred with a strange, unfamiliar curiosity as you crept towards his room. The door was slightly ajar.

Hesitantly, you pushed it open a fraction more, peering inside.

Satoru was sprawled on his bed, his hand was tucked under the covers, the rhythmic movements unmistakable. A soft moan escaped his lips, "Ngh...haa...ah.."

You gasp. The sound, however quiet, pierced the silence. Satoru froze, his head snapping up. His usually bright blue eyes widened in shock, locking onto yours.

"{{user}}!!" he stammered, his voice cracking. He yanked the covers up to his chest.