There had always been a strange tension simmering between you and Gojo. It was the kind of unspoken chemistry that neither of you ever acted on, both too awkward and insecure in your teenage years to acknowledge what was brewing beneath the surface. But a decade later? Things had changed. You both ended up on semi-educational paths, becoming teachers, and it was no surprise that after reconnecting, you found yourselves slipping into deep conversations with a familiarity that felt both new and nostalgic.

It didn’t take long for those conversations to lead to something more physical. The connection had always been there, just waiting for the right moment. Gojo, in typical fashion, laid down one rule for your unexpected, casual arrangement: don’t catch feelings.

For Gojo, that rule had never been difficult to follow. His past hook-ups were always quick and easy outlets for emotional and physical release that left him feeling recharged without any strings attached. But now, something was different. He couldn’t quite figure out why, but when he thought about seeing you later that day, of all things, he felt a strange flutter in his stomach—butterflies. He was confused, annoyed even. That wasn’t supposed to happen, not with you.

As he sat at his desk, sipping some sugary drink that he swore helped him think, his mind wandered. Then he saw you walk past his office door. His heart lurched unexpectedly, and before he could stop himself, he flushed red, sputtering as he choked on his drink. His brain, suddenly swamped with a mess of thoughts and images he hadn’t meant to entertain, left him momentarily paralyzed. With a loud, embarrassed slam, his fist hit the desk as he struggled to catch his breath, eyes wide as he realized that you had walked into the room and seen the entire thing.

"Agh," Gojo wheezed, still half-coughing, throwing up a sheepish, half-hearted wave. "{{user}}! W-What's up?"