Chapter Text
There was shooting your shot and then there was living in pure delusion. When Satoru bragged to Shoko that he could definitely, easily, without-issue get Geto Suguru’s number, he’d been talking a big game. However, all his bluster wasn’t without merit. Of all the men on their floor, Satoru was constantly under a deluge of admirers. He had long-since stopped counting the number of invitations to drinks and private dinners he’d received from his co-workers. It was a well-known rumor that Satoru had seduced the department head, and that was why he had all the best clients. Despite what everyone thought, Satoru had not slept his way to the top; there was no need. With just a meaningful wink and quirk of his lips, few could resist the gravity of the man. He didn’t mind the rumors though. His ego was a starving thing, and every crumb it was fed kept him happy.
Now, though, peering across the marketing floor at the calm, exquisitely dressed advertising prodigy otherwise known as Geto Suguru, Satoru felt his bright confidence slipping only slightly. They’d met a handful of times, and spoken even fewer. Even if that was the case, Satoru knew of Geto. Everyone at the company did. How could they not?
He was a rising star. A recent hire snatched up from a rival company, Geto Suguru garnered attention not only for the caliber of his work, but also the effect he had on others. His kindness, patience, and sweet smile cut through everyone’s guard. Even the most stoic of managers had to admit the young man had a special air about him. Satoru was tall enough that he saw over the desks, monitors, and half-walls to see Suguru conversing with a trio of stone-faced executives. They seemed to be involved in a deep discussion, based on the serious expressions on the higher-ups’ faces. Satoru worried the inside of his cheek, considering how best to approach them when he felt someone slowing down beside him.
“Gojo?” The soft voice was familiar and made Satoru crack a smile. The speaker was a new hire; a recent graduate. Despite his arduous work ethic, the young man’s dark hair seemed to consistently be losing a battle to bedheadedness. His deep green eyes were lit with mild surprise until he noticed Satoru’s wide grin.
“Megumi!” Satoru’s elated cry grabbed the attention of some workers at nearby desks. They eyed the pair in slight annoyance. Megumi tried to extricate himself from the hug Satoru had wrapped him up in. It was only when Satoru loosened his hold on the younger man, that Megumi noticed with embarrassment coloring his features the way his peers were watching them. Whether his obliviousness was intentional or not wasn’t clear, but Satoru held Megumi by the shoulders to look him up and down. “You’ve taken to this well!” Megumi was dressed in a bright, new button-up shirt, complete with suit jacket and slacks. If not for the messy hair, he might have looked fifteen years older; as though he’d been a salaryman all his life.
Megumi muttered something non-committal. Unlike Satoru, who kept his work lanyard tucked into a back pocket, Megumi wore his boldly. He was so green that his badge didn’t even have his picture on it yet. “What are you doing here? Here for a meeting?”
“You’ve been here not even two weeks and you’re already all business,” Satoru grumbled, nudging his elbow into Megumi’s side.
“Why wouldn’t I be? We’re at work.”
Satoru’s frown was short lived. “Just here to speak with Geto.” Honesty was the best policy. Especially with juniors he’d known since before they’d started elementary school. Megumi looked confused.
"What would you need to discuss with Supervisor Geto?” Megumi’s voice was laced with something that made Satoru chuckle.
“So nosy, Gumi-kun,” Satoru teased.
Megumi, face red with humiliation and anger, pushed Satoru away while frowning. “Don’t call me that and don’t bother him too much. Supervisor Geto actually does good work for the company.” The ‘unlike you’ was so heavily implied that Satoru thought he heard it.
“Does Geto treat you well?” Satoru asked casually, glancing back in the direction of the man in question. He had finished his conversation with the executives and was looking down at his phone, though his expression was oddly dark. Satoru wasn’t sure he liked that look on him.
“He’s been supportive of all us new hires,” Megumi said, following Satoru’s gaze. “Lots of great tips. And he’s always available to help with questions.”
“Why don’t you talk me up like this?” Satoru couldn’t help but complain.
Megumi rolled his eyes. “You’d have to start by giving me reason to. I’m leaving.” He turned away, and continued along the corridor without another word. Satoru watched him leave with a small smile.
Anyone else might hear Megumi’s tone and take it as rudeness. To some extent, that was probably what Megumi intended, but Satoru never took anything from the kid personally. That came from knowing him for so long. Their families had been linked longer than Satoru had been alive, but after Megumi’s father’s unceremonious falling out with his uncle, Satoru and Megumi had been tied together. The kid was like the younger brother Satoru had always wanted, and Satoru was the older brother Megumi reticently accepted. Their company, a large electronics corporation, was a subsidiary holding of Satoru’s family. Though he didn’t use that much to his benefit. Even with Satoru’s family name, hardly anyone knew about the connection. It wasn’t like Satoru was champing at the bit to get to the top either. His apathetic ambition kept him on an even keel, just the way he liked it.
Satoru turned his focus, startled to see Geto was gone. He cursed under his breath. Rounding the open cubicles, Satoru walked away from the elevator bank to find Geto’s desk. He caught the attention of a few curious workers, but they were too busy to give him little more than cursory glances. He was eying the desks when he accidentally collided with a young woman. She was more than a foot shorter than Satoru, though the irritation in her expression more than bridged the distance.
“My bad!” Satoru blurted apologetically as the woman snapped, “Watch where you’re walking!” Her face was cute enough, even if her hair was a bit plain, Satoru thought. What grabbed his attention was the faint, but sizable scar cut across her right cheek and over the bridge of her nose.
“It’s rude to stare.” Her voice was sharp enough to cut glass. Her light brown eyes moved away from Satoru’s slightly startled face to look for any sort of identification. “Who are you? Do you work here?”
Satoru blinked at her for a moment. She looked a bit small to be part of security, but Satoru had to admit he was a touch intimidated. He pulled out his name badge from his pocket to show her.
“Gojo…Satoru,” She read aloud through narrowed, suspicious eyes. “It says ‘Sales,’ what are you doing here on this floor?”
“Wow, I didn’t know we had to keep to our designated floors, ma’am,” Satoru laughed, giving her a leisurely salute. Her only response was a tightening of her scowl. Satoru’s eyes alighted on her badge. “If you must know, Miss Iori, I am looking for Geto Suguru. Any idea where I can find him?”
Iori’s nose wrinkled disbelievingly. Satoru wanted to laugh at the little woman’s blatant dislike for him, but he held back. Wordlessly, she lifted her arm to point at something behind him. He peeked over his shoulder to see a large, empty office.
“Thank you, Miss I—” Satoru started, but stopped when he turned back to see the small woman had vanished. Still impressed by her speed, Satoru slipped his badge back into his pocket and strolled into the office.
He’d worked here for nearly five years now, but Satoru was still relegated to a cubicle. He didn’t mind it since he sat across from Shoko. But Geto, who was around the same age as him, had a big office usually reserved for the middle-aged managers. Satoru had only taken a step into the darkened office when he felt a shock of realization in his gut. Was Satoru getting into middle age?! He shook off that troubling thought with a laugh as he flicked the light on.
Across from the door, the wall was made of glass. The view was little more than gray skyscrapers and an even grayer sky that threatened impending rain. Geto’s desk was tidy, stacks of paper kept in well-managed piles and pens organized into dark, round containers. Even his keyboard was spotless. This looked nothing like Satoru’s workspace. Idly, Satoru wondered if he should have a bit more shame about his general messiness. Instead, he stepped around Geto’s desk to take a seat in his chair.
“Damn.” Even his chair was better than Satoru’s. He spun around to face outside. The wide-eyed, confused workers in their cubicles out on the open floor beyond the office’s open door didn’t bother Satoru.
He’s got a nice office. Satoru typed up in a quick message to Shoko.
Her response was almost instantaneous. Already in his office? You sure move fast.
Satoru chuckled softly. Shoko would be eating both her words and the yakiniku she’d promised him if he got Geto’s number. She’d been his closest friend since university. It was a friendship built on tolerance and a bit of hesitant affection on Shoko’s part. Satoru had followed her like a lost puppy one day, and she hadn’t been able to shake him since. Bets and teasing were as easy as breathing between them. That was why, last night, after three drinks to drown the sorrow of yet another dud of a date had Shoko begging Satoru to explain to her why men were so trash.
“I wouldn’t know,” Satoru had said proudly. “I am one of the best. Try a woman next time. Men are no fun.” He had been joking for the most part. Men could be very fun.
Shoko, eyes red-rimmed and glassy from the drinks, scoffed loudly then sniffed, “I very well might.” She whipped out a cigarette but the bartender down the counter started yelling.
“No smoking inside, Ieiri! How many times do I have to tell ya!?”
“Alright! I hear you!” Shoko hollered back. She had closed her eyes and dropped her face down onto the sticky bar top. Satoru made a face.
“The mood has turned,” Satoru said. He caught the bartender’s eye and lifted a card to pay Shoko’s tab. “Let me help you get home.” After settling up, Satoru looped an arm around Shoko’s waist. He helped her out of the bar. She was less drunk than she was heartbroken. The guy this time had ghosted her after a middling show in bed. Shoko said she didn’t care if the sex was boring, the man had a pretty good sense of humor and that was enough for her. At the front door, a young woman with a beautiful smile and glittering eyes caught Satoru’s attention for an instant.
“Thank you so much, Miss,” Satoru said smoothly, enjoying the slight flush glowing across the woman’s face. Behind fluttering lashes, she glanced up at him coquettishly. Who was he kidding? Women and men were fun!
“You’re the worst,” Shoko bemoaned once they were out on the street. “I wish I was attracted to you. Would make things so much easier.”
Satoru tried not to feel offended at that.
“Not sure what’s stopping you. There’s much to love about me,” Satoru bragged with a wink.
Shoko already had a cigarette dangling from her lips, her half-lidded gaze cool as she looked up at him. “You really think you could get anyone, don’t you?”
“Could and do,”
Shoko moaned loud enough to grab the oogling attention of a pair of middle-aged men passing by as she inhaled her lit cigarette. “I know someone you can’t.”
Liking the sound of a challenge, Satoru wiggled his eyebrows at her. “Who?”
The door to Geto Suguru’s office closed with a click, ripping Satoru out of his idle musings. He spun the chair back around quickly. Geto Suguru stood before his desk, arms crossed over his chest, and a lightly amused expression on his face.
“Utahime said someone from Sales was looking for me. That you?”
Geto’s voice was honeyed sweetness to Satoru’s ears, slow but steady. His eyes were dark, slightly upturned at the edges. Elegant, Satoru thought. A sharp nose guided Satoru’s eyes downwards to a faintly smiling mouth. Geto was younger than other managers with his long hair he always kept up in a firm bun. However, a lock of shorter hair hung along the side of his handsome face. Satoru was surprised to see the black studs in his ears. Maybe the dress code had been loosened at some point, Satoru wondered appreciatively. Satoru let his eyes move down toward Geto’s strong neck. He wore a simple white shirt, tie, and black pants, but they were wrapped around his body in a way that made Satoru’s mouth go dry.
“Uh, yes,” Satoru stammered, shaking his head slightly to clear his thoughts. “I’m from Sales.”
Geto eyed him, a wry look on his face. “What’s your name?”
“Gojo Satoru,”
“You’re in my chair, Gojo Satoru,” Geto murmured. It was a simple statement, but his mouth breathed life in Satoru’s name as though he were meant to say it. Satoru’s mind went to dark, wildly inappropriate places at the sound. He wanted to hear it again. Maybe in his bed, possibly as a gasping plea?
Satoru shot to his feet. He sorely hoped his thoughts weren’t obvious on his face. Geto stepped around the desk before Satoru could get out of the way. He was very suddenly in Satoru’s personal space, his presence heady and intense. In a bit of a daze, Satoru stumbled back a step. Underfoot, a power cord that was meant to be hidden had wriggled its way out from under its protective cover. The back heel of Satoru’s shoe caught the cord and he was sent backwards flailing. Before he could fully lose his footing, Geto’s hand shot out to wrap around Satoru’s waist. His broad hand pressed firmly into Satoru’s back to keep him standing. He was taller than Geto, but this angle had him slightly shorter now. Blinking through the embarrassment, Satoru found himself staring directly into Geto’s eyes. This close, and with the light of the descending sun outside, Satoru was fascinated to see a purple tint in those irises.
Oh.
“You okay?” Geto asked. His hand was still on Satoru’s lower back and his face was still very close. Satoru wasn’t sure he could breathe. He only nodded. Geto straightened, easing Satoru upright, too. “That cord gets me all the time, too.”
Satoru grinned, appreciating the grace Geto was giving him. “Too bad you don’t have someone here to catch you, too.” Geto inclined his head in agreement, that knowing smirk back on his face. It was only when he stepped around Satoru, that he realized Geto’s hand was still on him. He instantly missed the warmth when Geto pulled away.
Geto sat down, motioning for Satoru to do the same. “I’m not in Sales, but I’m happy to help you as I can.” He hadn’t spoken until Satoru took the seat before his desk.
“Um,” Satoru began. His mind had gone completely blank. This was all wrong. When he came up to this floor half an hour before he’d been planning to casually run into Geto in the hallway. Maybe chat him up for a couple minutes and get his contact information. Sitting in his quiet office, door closed, and before his desk was all too formal. There was no way to broach that topic now. His eyes looked down into his lap, catching sight of the thin blue bracelet he kept there. An idea struck him. “I know you’re the supervisor for Fushiguro Megumi. I wanted to check in on how he’s doing.”
Geto looked as surprised as Satoru felt from that outburst. He didn’t have a chance to feel proud of it though before Geto replied. “I only started here about a month ago, so I am still getting a feel for the place. That being said, Fushiguro has given me a very warm welcome. He’s a hard worker. You wouldn’t think he’d just graduated from how knowledgeable he is.” His eyes had been studying something on his desk until they flashed up toward Satoru’s. “How do you know my junior?” His question was harmless, but Satoru couldn’t help noticing a strange edge to his voice as he spoke.
Satoru chuckled. “Megumi’ll hate me for saying this, but I’m just looking out for him. He’s practically my little brother.”
“Ah,” Geto said, the easy calm returning to his voice. “Is that all? Just checking in on Fushiguro?” Satoru got the impression that Geto was messing with him.
Satoru felt the rare stirrings of nerves roiling up in his stomach. He wasn’t an anxious person. Act first, worry about it later was his mantra. But Geto made Satoru feel off balance, untethered somehow. Even though half of him wanted to race out of the room, he straightened in his seat. “How about I give you my number? That way if you have any concerns about Fushiguro, you can reach me.”
His suggestion fell from his lips with all the suave and charm of an awkward teenager. He had a way with people, that was his whole thing. But now, he felt like he was a kid reaching for something way out of his league. With effort, Satoru forced himself to look up from his lap to see Geto’s momentarily startled expression.
He disguised a surprised laugh with a cough as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Sure.”
“Really?” Satoru blurted without thought, amazed his fumbling words had worked. Geto arched an eyebrow at him, but Satoru pushed through to give him his contact information. “And yours?”
“I’ll give you mine in exchange for something,” Geto said. His mouth was pulling up at the corner into a charming half-smile. Satoru’s heart thumped at the sight.
“Okay,”
Geto leaned back into his swivel chair, that half-smile looking almost sinister now with the new angle. Satoru liked it. “I’m new to this part of the city. There’s this good Thai place across the plaza that I’ve been wanting to check out. But I don’t know anyone well enough yet.” Though his words could have sounded timid, his tone and expression were anything but. “We could discuss Fushiguro’s workmanship over a meal.” His mild sarcasm went unnoticed by Satoru.
Satoru gaped at him. He’d received many invitations to that very restaurant from co-workers before, and turned them all down. Satoru was a firm believer in not mixing work with extra-curricular activities but… “Does tonight work?”
Geto sat forward, holding his hand out for Satoru’s phone. “I’ll meet you downstairs after we finish up for the day.” It wasn’t a question. Satoru watched his fingers type his information into his unlocked phone wordlessly. He didn’t let his mind wander, or let himself think of all he could do with those fingers. Instead, Satoru kept a perfectly respectable smile on his lips. Geto held out Satoru’s phone for him. “Don’t get lost on your way down to the sixth floor, Gojo Satoru.” The teasing bite to Geto’s words made Satoru’s stomach do flips.
It wasn’t until Satoru found himself on a crowded elevator that he let a breath in. He looked down at his phone to see that while Geto had put in his contact, Shoko had been blowing up Satoru’s phone with messages.
Well?? Did you get his number?
Are you dead?
Don’t leave me to handle your clients. They’re too needy.
Did you get lost?
Satoru almost swallowed his tongue reading the last message. He wondered with dull panic how many of those messages Geto had seen. With shaky fingers, he typed out a message for Shoko, unable to keep the smug smile off his lips.
Got his number and did one better. I got a date.