you rarely see your roommate. not that it’s a bad thing, but y’know… to have a guy like satoru gojo as your roommate is like striking gold—literally.

jujutsu tech’s golden boy is your roommate and he’s been nothing but outgoing and friendly with you considering his reputation. you lost track of what you’ve heard of him: sports jock, fraternity president, digimon nerd, insanely intelligent… you think you heard he boxes too, and he likes sweets? ah, whatever.

forbid you want to get to know him better, but your schedules don’t align and he’s always out. he’s never home until late doing who knows what, but it’s not your business. however, tonight was different.

you come home a little later tonight for your own reasons. you open the door and expect your roommate to be absent as usual until…

“ugh… tch… nngh…”

grunting. from his doorway. he’s back? already? you take a step closer to be in view and you see satoru doing pull ups on the pull up bar he installed in his bedroom doorway. he’s shirtless. his back muscles prominent in the dim lighting. healed scars and wounds all over his upper body from whatever kind of training he does. the waistband of his calvin klein boxers are revealed from the loose grey sweatpants he’s wearing.

“you’re home late,” his husky voice interrupts your staring as he hangs from the pull up bar.