[ gojo makes the call on the way to the torii gates, thanking the host before flipping the phone closed andctucking it into Nao jacket pocket.
He shoves his hands into the pockets of his slim cut black trousers, cinched in at the waist with a black belt. His sky blue button down is undone at the collar, the dip of his collar bone and then some peeking out. Satoru picked his best leather bomber jacket for the occasion - its one that makes his waist looks particularly tiny and he’s seen getou looking before.
His chest is tight as he waits, willing himself not to check his phone or his watch for the third time, foot tapping on the stones. ]
[ he's early, at least; trust Getou to give that social kindness even to the one man who wouldn't extend it to others. the kimono's dark, a simple pinstripe, cinched shut in gold. the time of year at least allows him to accessorize with an equally dark haori, patterned humbly with a simple blossom towards the tails, something that had been too warm for Tanabata. it's modest, but he wears it well. his hair's down; he's never needed to ask if that's what Gojou would prefer. ]
[ easy to spot each other in a crowd, with or without their cursed energy suppressed. Getou pauses for a beat as their eyes meet, swallows, and resumes until he's right in front of him — ]
[ hooking his fingers on empty beltloops and pulling their hips together. it's not quite a kiss, but he leans ever so slightly up to bite Gojou's bottom lip, raking his teeth across it playfully. ]
Hi. [ PDA, from him? he said he'd be on his worst behavior. ]
[ gojo can sense his approach before he can see him, turning and looking over his shoulder - maybe it’s just gojo, but it feels like the world splits in half in the wake of him, dark and broad shouldered, made molten by the setting sun.
he lets getou come to him, limitless disappearing in a soft whoosh as his eyes drag down the line of the kimono’s border where it forms a V over getou’s tanned chest. then his mouth is on him, teeth hooking into gojo’s lip and tugging at it in a soft, teasing bite. ]
Hi. [ his palm comes up to brace getou’s hip, fingers digging into the bone. PDA from getou is rare, but gojo is more than happy to indulge whether or not anyone is looking at them. his head cranes to steal a proper kiss, thumb swiping beneath the gold belt to savor the texture clinging to getou’s skin. ]
Ready for dinner? [ gojo offers his arm — his family taught him how to be a gentleman, he just doesn’t care about that shit, unless it’s getou. ]
Mm, [ a pleasant little sigh, sinking into all the affection Gojou has to offer. they're practically invisible in this town, the strange kids who come from the private religious school and only ever keep to themselves. the whole world narrows down into their little bubble, entertaining only what can enrich and enliven it: sweet, purring kisses and the shivery touch of fingers dipping down a little too low. ]
[ his lidded gaze flickers between Gojou's kiss-bittin lip and his offered arm, back up again. he takes it in his matching arm; the one closer to Satoru as they walk is tucked into a back pocket of those fitted slacks. ]
I'm starving, [ and he says it with all manner of hunger in dark eyes, pupils blown wide and attentive. a curiosity lingers, however... ] But don't you think we're a little mismatched?
[ gojo loves to stand out, but one of the most thrilling parts of tokyo is being able to blend in - be normal for a while. like this, they don't have to be jujutsu sorcerers, gojo isn't the six eyes, they're just satoru and suguru tucked into one another as the whole world falls blends into nothing.
his fingers slide along the line of his wrist, over the bone at the juncture of his wrist and hand, rubbing over it. getou's hand slipping into the back pocket of his slacks sends a thrill up his spine and he grins as they walk, tucked close enough that it's hard to tell where one begins and the other ends. ]
Mmmm are we? I rather like having a long-haired, kimono-clad beauty on my arm. [ gojo looks down at him, admiring how black his eyes look when they're blown out this way, ready to devour him whole. ] Should I change to match you? I'm sure I could buy something.
[ — there's a disbelieving huff at his compliments, a squirmy sort of bashfulness that it only ever seems Satoru can bring out of him. his revenge is petty but effective, giving the meat of his ass under his hand a reproachful pinch. serves him right. ]
[ should he change? he gives it his earnest thought, peripherals pouring over Gojou's long and slender limbs, the cling of denim at his thighs. eventually, he shrugs. ]
I don't mind. It's not as though you look unpresentable. [ what a compliment. besides, if he did change, he really might not be able to help himself; it's hard to keep Gojou in line when he's supposed to be on bad behavior, too. ]
[ gojo grins at him, thinks he's won when getou looks bashful and huffs a the compliments - and is rewarded for his hubris with a sharp pinch that has him squawking an extremely dignified noise. ]
Gah! Suguru! [ he grumbles, rubbing his ass before replacing his hand in his pocket, huffing. ] Jeez thanks. Do you know how much this outfit cost??
[ still, he wants to spoil getou tonight on this date, so if he wants him to change, he'll change. but the easy access of a kimono does spell a much higher risk for him misbehaving. his fingers slide against the palm of getou's hand, teasing the knit of their fingers lacing but not following through just yet. ] Are you sure? I don't mind if it's what you want.
[ satisfying. he has the audacity to look smug about it, looping both arms passively in Gojou's one. he's the one to press their palms together, gaze drifting irrevocably back to him — like always. he looks mischievous under heavy lashes, smiling with a little shrug. there's such an amount of trust he has with him that he lets himself be arm candy, placing a certain amount of faith in his best friend to lead the way. ]
You know... I think I'll enjoy watching you try to stay comfortable in those all night. [ referring, of course, to the fit of his trousers and their very little room for... growth. he promised bad behavior, and he intends to deliver. ] Oh, and—
[ from the pocket-sleeve of his haori, his free hand plucks a small box; it might have been from a jeweler, once upon a time. it's being repurposed now, to some extent. ]
I have a gift. For later. [ and, truthfully — it's more for himself than Gojou, a selfish giving. ]
So cruel to me! After all the trouble I've gone to tonight, tsk. [ their palms slide together, and gojo laces their fingers. he feels like he can't be farther apart from getou than this, would prefer to be less far apart, actually.
but there's time for that, gojo made sure. ] Hah. So you're planning to be on your worst behavior? Good.
[ he leans in and presses his mouth against getou's ear, lips dragging over it as he mumbles, tongue darting against the shell. ] I'll be on my best behavior for you, then.
[ gojo looks at getou curiously, a grin spreading across his lips. ] Yeah? For me? You're spoiling me, Suguru. [ they reach the restaurant, and gojo pulls the door open for getou, leering at him as he passes through the threshold into a sea of dark wood and low, amber lighting that suits getou like he was born into it. he follows him in, walking up to the host and giving his name for their reservation and in no time they're shuffled back through the main dining area, down a quieter hallway into a private room.
he looks back at getou as they're shown in, practically preening as he slips his boots off, walking onto the tatami and sitting down on the floor cushions. he pats the spot next to him, peering at suguru over his glasses and asking the host for a bottle of extremely expensive sake to start them off without batting an eye. ]
I thought this might be better than a corner booth. But if you want the exhibitionist angle I can ask to change.
[ it's shiver-inducing, an unfair assault, his cascading hair making for more sensitivity, more alertness; his tongue is molten he wants to melt against his own. the words even warmer, even lower. his gift winds up back in a pocket; his promise leaves him breathless. almost as much as the curious hesitance that has him walking through the restaurant half a step behind, pitching his head over the taller boy's shoulder to witness that flashy decor. he's left to follow the whims of a tempest, quiet as his honeyed gaze pours over Gojou, the sliding doors clicking shut behind him. ]
[ they're alone, for now. Suguru wants to tear him open. instead, he toes off his sandals and joins him, knees slanted with far more precise modesty than he usually executes and the rest of him pressed warmly into Satoru's side like he's always fit there. ]
No no, [ a wave of his hand, voice quiet and lilting. maybe he's been humbled just a little. ] You're only for my eyes tonight, Satoru.
[ and the way he looks at him again — like he's trying to lure him into a kiss with just his gaze, to let Gojou find his way into his appreciation. ]
[ getou's is the only shape that will ever fit here - the inevitable result of growing together, spending all their days pressed flush against one another in play and practice, learning to think and move as one. until a move in one of them caused a resulting shift into action in the other. even the way gojo breathes makes room for suguru's chest to expand with it. ]
Good. I'm looking after you tonight, remember? Bad behavior and all.
[ and the kind of behavior he knows is waiting, coiled and serpentine in getou's mind is something that will probably benefit from the option of closed doors. they have the room for the rest of the night, if they want it that long. gojo won't be able to drink sake that entire time if he wants to survive the evening, but getou likes to indulge, and gojo has neve minded the particular way getou indulges when he's like this - loose, relaxed, feeling a little pampered.
it only takes a glance to know what getou's demanding next, and gojo happily obliges. long fingers cup getou's neck and jaw as satoru leans in and presses a searing kiss onto his lips. he wastes no time dipping his tongue between them, greedy for everything he can take before they come back with the sake. kissing getou, from the very first time they stumbled, then crashed into it, has always been a heady experience. he could do it for hours, years, and never get bored of retracing his way around getou's mouth.
there's a long moment of come-down when their lips part, and gojo looks at him, eyes-lidded and low. ] Did I forget to mention you look good?
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bakerstreet2023-09-15 12:01 pm
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Yeah, yeah...
Of course I will.
When do you want to go, tonight?
Somen? Zaru soba?
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Don't let me down, partner~.
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6PM~
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I don't have anything to wear...
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Meet me at the torii gates?
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2/2
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1/2
What kind of question is that?
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Alright, I’ll ask for it.
[ gojo makes the call on the way to the torii gates, thanking the host before flipping the phone closed andctucking it into Nao jacket pocket.
He shoves his hands into the pockets of his slim cut black trousers, cinched in at the waist with a black belt. His sky blue button down is undone at the collar, the dip of his collar bone and then some peeking out. Satoru picked his best leather bomber jacket for the occasion - its one that makes his waist looks particularly tiny and he’s seen getou looking before.
His chest is tight as he waits, willing himself not to check his phone or his watch for the third time, foot tapping on the stones. ]
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[ easy to spot each other in a crowd, with or without their cursed energy suppressed. Getou pauses for a beat as their eyes meet, swallows, and resumes until he's right in front of him — ]
[ hooking his fingers on empty beltloops and pulling their hips together. it's not quite a kiss, but he leans ever so slightly up to bite Gojou's bottom lip, raking his teeth across it playfully. ]
Hi. [ PDA, from him? he said he'd be on his worst behavior. ]
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he lets getou come to him, limitless disappearing in a soft whoosh as his eyes drag down the line of the kimono’s border where it forms a V over getou’s tanned chest. then his mouth is on him, teeth hooking into gojo’s lip and tugging at it in a soft, teasing bite. ]
Hi. [ his palm comes up to brace getou’s hip, fingers digging into the bone. PDA from getou is rare, but gojo is more than happy to indulge whether or not anyone is looking at them. his head cranes to steal a proper kiss, thumb swiping beneath the gold belt to savor the texture clinging to getou’s skin. ]
Ready for dinner? [ gojo offers his arm — his family taught him how to be a gentleman, he just doesn’t care about that shit, unless it’s getou. ]
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[ his lidded gaze flickers between Gojou's kiss-bittin lip and his offered arm, back up again. he takes it in his matching arm; the one closer to Satoru as they walk is tucked into a back pocket of those fitted slacks. ]
I'm starving, [ and he says it with all manner of hunger in dark eyes, pupils blown wide and attentive. a curiosity lingers, however... ] But don't you think we're a little mismatched?
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his fingers slide along the line of his wrist, over the bone at the juncture of his wrist and hand, rubbing over it. getou's hand slipping into the back pocket of his slacks sends a thrill up his spine and he grins as they walk, tucked close enough that it's hard to tell where one begins and the other ends. ]
Mmmm are we? I rather like having a long-haired, kimono-clad beauty on my arm. [ gojo looks down at him, admiring how black his eyes look when they're blown out this way, ready to devour him whole. ] Should I change to match you? I'm sure I could buy something.
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[ should he change? he gives it his earnest thought, peripherals pouring over Gojou's long and slender limbs, the cling of denim at his thighs. eventually, he shrugs. ]
I don't mind. It's not as though you look unpresentable. [ what a compliment. besides, if he did change, he really might not be able to help himself; it's hard to keep Gojou in line when he's supposed to be on bad behavior, too. ]
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Gah! Suguru! [ he grumbles, rubbing his ass before replacing his hand in his pocket, huffing. ] Jeez thanks. Do you know how much this outfit cost??
[ still, he wants to spoil getou tonight on this date, so if he wants him to change, he'll change. but the easy access of a kimono does spell a much higher risk for him misbehaving. his fingers slide against the palm of getou's hand, teasing the knit of their fingers lacing but not following through just yet. ] Are you sure? I don't mind if it's what you want.
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You know... I think I'll enjoy watching you try to stay comfortable in those all night. [ referring, of course, to the fit of his trousers and their very little room for... growth. he promised bad behavior, and he intends to deliver. ] Oh, and—
[ from the pocket-sleeve of his haori, his free hand plucks a small box; it might have been from a jeweler, once upon a time. it's being repurposed now, to some extent. ]
I have a gift. For later. [ and, truthfully — it's more for himself than Gojou, a selfish giving. ]
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but there's time for that, gojo made sure. ] Hah. So you're planning to be on your worst behavior? Good.
[ he leans in and presses his mouth against getou's ear, lips dragging over it as he mumbles, tongue darting against the shell. ] I'll be on my best behavior for you, then.
[ gojo looks at getou curiously, a grin spreading across his lips. ] Yeah? For me? You're spoiling me, Suguru. [ they reach the restaurant, and gojo pulls the door open for getou, leering at him as he passes through the threshold into a sea of dark wood and low, amber lighting that suits getou like he was born into it. he follows him in, walking up to the host and giving his name for their reservation and in no time they're shuffled back through the main dining area, down a quieter hallway into a private room.
he looks back at getou as they're shown in, practically preening as he slips his boots off, walking onto the tatami and sitting down on the floor cushions. he pats the spot next to him, peering at suguru over his glasses and asking the host for a bottle of extremely expensive sake to start them off without batting an eye. ]
I thought this might be better than a corner booth. But if you want the exhibitionist angle I can ask to change.
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[ they're alone, for now. Suguru wants to tear him open. instead, he toes off his sandals and joins him, knees slanted with far more precise modesty than he usually executes and the rest of him pressed warmly into Satoru's side like he's always fit there. ]
No no, [ a wave of his hand, voice quiet and lilting. maybe he's been humbled just a little. ] You're only for my eyes tonight, Satoru.
[ and the way he looks at him again — like he's trying to lure him into a kiss with just his gaze, to let Gojou find his way into his appreciation. ]
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Good. I'm looking after you tonight, remember? Bad behavior and all.
[ and the kind of behavior he knows is waiting, coiled and serpentine in getou's mind is something that will probably benefit from the option of closed doors. they have the room for the rest of the night, if they want it that long. gojo won't be able to drink sake that entire time if he wants to survive the evening, but getou likes to indulge, and gojo has neve minded the particular way getou indulges when he's like this - loose, relaxed, feeling a little pampered.
it only takes a glance to know what getou's demanding next, and gojo happily obliges. long fingers cup getou's neck and jaw as satoru leans in and presses a searing kiss onto his lips. he wastes no time dipping his tongue between them, greedy for everything he can take before they come back with the sake. kissing getou, from the very first time they stumbled, then crashed into it, has always been a heady experience. he could do it for hours, years, and never get bored of retracing his way around getou's mouth.
there's a long moment of come-down when their lips part, and gojo looks at him, eyes-lidded and low. ] Did I forget to mention you look good?
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