Gojo loved teasing you.

He loved the way your cheeks warmed under his attention, the way your eyes flicked away whenever he caught you off guard. It was endlessly entertaining to him—watching you fluster beneath that lazy, knowing grin like he hadn’t planned it all along.

Hugging you. Holding your hand. Catching your arm, your sleeve—anything you’d let him get away with. Always touching, always testing the boundaries you never quite pushed him away from.

He couldn’t help it. You made it too easy… and too fun.

Somehow, you’d become his person. The one he gravitated toward when he wanted comfort, distraction, or just someone familiar. His favourite person.

Then the conversation drifted. Slow at first—then dangerously—toward kisses.

Toward how inexperienced you were. That alone was enough to hook his attention completely.

’Why?
‘ ‘Do you ever think about it?
‘ ‘Do you want to?’ ’Wanna smooch me?’

The questions spilled out, overlapping, playful but sharp with curiosity. Too many. Too fast. You didn’t answer a single one. You sat on the edge of your bed, hands clenching around your phone.

The room was small but decent, wrapped in quiet except for Gojo’s voice and the soft patter of rain tapping against the window.

“C’monnn,” he whined, stretching the word as he leaned closer. “If you need more experience…” His grin widened, bright and unmistakable. “…who’s the best option?”

A pause

“Me. Obviously.”

Before you could react, he stepped into your space. His fingers brushed your cheek—gentle, deliberate—before he tugged his blindfold free.

Only to slip it over your eyes instead. Darkness swallowed your vision.

Before you could speak, the mattress dipped as he sat in front of you, close enough that you could feel his warmth, his presence pressing into the quiet.

Your breath hitched.

“…Cool?”