Afternoon Highball

by Arayne

Summary:

Nanami Kento is a thrice-cheated on, once-divorced tired head of finance in his forties. Although he just wants to be left alone, his boss decides to foist upon him the task to mentor one Gojo Satoru in the hopes that he will quit. Gojo, meanwhile, sees only opportunities and is determined to show this exhausted man a good time (and perhaps some love too).

Chapter 1

Notes:

Hi, it's been a while. It's GoNana for a change. :)

A pack of paperwork is dumped on Kento’s desk.

“I need you to check these papers by noon.”

Twenty-five years into this business and yet it never gets less pressing, like your head being shoved underwater until slowly you feel the urge to simply let go.

“Absolutely not.”

He’s not sure where this twenty-something playboy got the nerve from, but Kento assumes it’s his father. It’s the kind of arrogance that comes with years of selective breeding and the Zen’in were more privy to keeping it in the family. It explains the lack of intelligence.

“But Nanami-san—” His nasally voice is grating on him so Kento sends him a scathing glare and watches the boy wither before it.

“I have a busy schedule, Zen’in.” Not using keigo is one of the very few perks of his seniority. The boy glowers at him but his puckered mouth stays wisely shut. “I expect you to trust your own expertise in the matter. I respectfully request that you take these papers off my desk and come by at a time that is more convenient for me.”

It is ten in the morning and Kento is due a smoke break. Zen’in snatches the papers back when Kento takes out his lighter and though it is not what he intended, he isn’t complaining.

Fuck, he misses Haibara. Ten years Kento’s junior but worked harder than Kento’s peer group who preferred to faff about until their problems magically got solved by their overly stressed interns. It’s a shame he and his wife moved overseas for her job promotion: Haibara had always been more than happy to make her happy. Kento, meanwhile, is once-divorced and thrice-cheated on. It’s hard not to be envious. Last time Haibara sent him a text, it had been in sunny Barcelona and he had been very excited to tell Kento about croquetas. It was hard not to be envious then too, as Japanese summers leaned towards brutal and the cheery Spanish summers with their siestas had seemed easier by comparison. Even now, Kento dreads going outside for his smoke break.

He dreads his upcoming birthday worse. Forty-six. What is there to look forward to? He’s sure his ex-wife will send him a pitying text, asking him if he wants her to come over. He is fairly confident that his aging parents will offer to make the trip down from quieter Suwa and then allow Kento to decline gracefully. Haibara wasn’t coming this year and that meant that Kento’s fairly small circle had dried up.

Besides, what was there to celebrate in his middle-age?

The scorching heat hits him the second the automatic doors close behind him. Kento shrugs out of his jacket as he shamefully slinks off to his designated smoking corner. A courtesy nod greets him and Kento returns it in kind as he takes out his pack of Seven Stars. He’s always been brand loyal, even if he quit smoking some ten years ago when he first got married. Always been a late bloomer, his mother had said on his wedding day. Perhaps it had been meant as encouragement, the happiness of a mother who finally saw her son off, but it had felt like pity to him, reserved for his ex-wife. He’s not sure why he’s remembering that now, because he can’t even remember if he was truly happy that day.

Less happy when she cheated on him fifteen months ago, telling him two days ahead of their anniversary.

I’m leaving you.

That was the worst part, he thinks as he inhales deeply, to have been kept completely in the dark. Had he been so self-absorbed that he hadn’t noticed how the smell of her perfume had changed? Or how her late nights coincided with his own, just so he wouldn’t notice it when she left the house? Dinner had become an easy konbini meal more and more often.

Then there was the sex. That had changed too.

Aggressive. Dispassionate. Erratic. One moment where she couldn’t get enough of him and another when she’d dive straight for the shower and refused to let him even spoon her.

She still holds his last name.

It may have been ten years but the cigarette smoke curls into his throat like a warm, familiar hug and he steps a little further into the shade. The heat is cloying and Kento wipes at the back of his damp neck, reaching inside of pocket for a handkerchief when he hears it:

“Damn Naoya, what’s with the chagrined welcome committee?” A boy whistles. “You look like you stepped into something wet and had no time to change your socks.”

“Shut up, Satoru.” Kento recognises the voice as the Zen’in. Whoever it is, they’re on first-name basis with one another and that is an awful sign. “The old man felt he had more important things to do than to show up.”

“Old man?”

Kento takes a step forward and can see them perfectly well from his vantage point. Zen’in’s scowl curdles his whole face as he spits out, “He’s a miserable grouch. He was supposed to mentor you, but he’s got a stick up his ass and thinks he’s above everyone all the time.”

The other boy, Kento notices, is still smiling. “Unhappy that someone usurped your position as the reigning king of stick up his ass?”

“I’m a Zen’in, Satoru. He has no right to speak to me like that, because his word is worthless when weighed against mine.”

Kento could step out, make Zen’in swallow his words, but then the boy called Satoru only makes big eyes at him. “Yet daddy couldn't give you a job higher up the chain? Seriously Naoya, what's your nepotism good for if you can't secure yourself a cushy job. You must be a special kind of useless.”

Zen’in colours spectacularly. “Careful.” His bite lacks proper heat. “You’re still in your probation period, I could make things difficult for you.”

“So difficult in fact that you couldn’t even get my mentor to come out here to greet me.” Satoru replies mournfully. “I’m terrified.” Before Zen’in can get another word in, the boy looks around and locks eyes with Kento standing beneath the shade of the bike shed. He grins wider and points in westerner fashion without a shred of embarrassment. “Who’s that?”

Kento gets the satisfaction of watching Zen’in pale when he follows his gaze.

“He’s hot.”

Satisfaction turns into aversion. Kento steps out from under the plastic canopy and loses all appetite for his cigarette, which is then promptly crushed under his heel.

“Zen’in.” He says curtly. “Come by my office later.”

Zen’in doesn’t say anything, he’s scowling at the cigarette as though he’s the one who’s just been crushed. Perhaps they both are.

Then Kento turns his gaze on the other boy, whose first name he wants to forget as quickly as possible so he can trade it in for a distant last name. He would think that his withering stare would burn the boy up, but his ineffable smile does not dim. He doesn’t wait for Zen’in to introduce him and Kento barely has time to react to his quick, “Nice to meet you. I’m Gojo Satoru and I’ll be working with you today.”

Only when he bows, does he become shorter than him and that ticks Kento off worse. He stiffly bows back, as etiquette demands, and replies only with the necessary; “Nanami Kento.”

He doesn’t wait for Gojo to get up again before he makes his way indoors again. That doesn’t stop the boy from yelling out, “Pleasure meeting you, mentor-san!”

Kento has no intention of mentoring this kid.

∞

“Can you please tell me why I’m in charge of mentoring someone outside of my department?”

Dealing with the older Zen’in can be even more of a pain than dealing with his incompetent son. Naobito might at least have the sense to keep his eldest humble, but that is less from a business-sense and more that it appears he simply doesn’t want to deal with him. Rumour has it that his wife forced him to offer Naoya a job and it was easier to give into her request than risk blowing up his marriage.

Kento doesn’t think Naobito genuinely cares about his wife, but he does care about his image and divorcing her would quickly turn ugly. He’s a shrewd business man in more ways than one.

Naobito waves him off. “You’re one of the oldest employees. It’s only appropriate that you show him around.”

“It is exactly because of my senior position that I am questioning why my time would not be better-spent working on my assigned tasks.” Kento frowns. “Is there something that I need to know about this boy?”

Naobito smiles and it’s not kind. “Guessed that right off the bat, huh?”

Kento has a bad feeling.

“He’s a Gojo.”

“I’m not following.”

“They hold about twenty percent of stock in this company. We’re also distant relatives, so I owe them a courtesy level of respect to avoid snubbing them. As he’s their golden boy, we owe it to them to show him around.” Naobito looks at Kento in the way that his son wishes he could look at Kento: with a thin veil of condescension. “We can’t just let any grunt do that job for the first few weeks.”

So they let him do the grunt work instead. “Is that all?” Because it can’t be all. There is plenty of higher management that could fill that job and Kento’s time as one of the senior financial officers is costlier than most.

“You’re really gonna make me say it, huh?” Naobito lets out an aggravating sigh. “I say this because I know you’re not one for gossip but the Gojo family and I are not on great terms. We feign politeness, but there’s bad blood. I can’t just let anyone handle it.”

Because of nepotism, Kento thinks acidly. A lot of upper management is filled with Zen’in. He can’t let one of them do it, lest he risks offending Gojo. He can’t let lower management do it or risk offending Gojo. Which leaves Kento.

“Rejecting him wasn’t an option?” He should learn to hold his tongue but he’s hot only replays in his mind. That kid spells trouble.

Naobito only cackles in response. “The kid’s wicked smart. With his track record, there were many companies vying for his attention.” That only makes it worse. But when Kento is prepared to ask questions, Naobito asks him one first. “Didn’t you look at his resume? I’m pretty sure I asked that useless brat to drop off the information at your desk.”

“I haven’t yet, no.” Kento says, careful to tread where Naobito feels free to insult his first-born. “Unfortunately, I’m quite swamped these days. I’m not sure if I have adequate time to mentor anyone.”

“It’s only for a few weeks, you can handle that much can’t you?”

Kento recognises the dismissal for what it is. He nods stiffly, bows, and leaves more irritated than before.

∞

It doesn’t take long.

“Nanami-san!”

Kento has just escaped the clutches of the gruelling quarterly review and there he is: three tall strides and he stands toe to toe. Kento quickly takes a step back, frowning. “I’d prefer it if you kept some distance.”

“Why?” The kid cocks his head. “Are you ill?”

Sick of you already.

“I like my personal space.”

He doesn’t appreciate familiarity, much less the eager way Gojo is looking at him. Nor does he like the fact that this boy towers over him by almost ten centimeters: he isn’t used to looking up to anyone, much less a junior.

“But we’ll be spending a lot of personal time together, won’t we Nanami-san?” He says and he’s grinning again. “I can’t wait for you to show me around.”

Kento ignores the thick emphasis on the wrong phrases. “Where’s Zen’in? I’ve asked him to come by my office.”

Gojo frowns. It’s a brief flash of disappointment before it’s gone again. “Naoya? He said he was busy. I’m here to help you instead.” He eyes the stack of papers in Kento’s arms. “Do you want me to carry that?”

He’s already reaching for them when Kento presses them closer to his chest. “No thank you.” He says firmly. HR had been happy to provide Kento with a copy of the kid’s file, which lies on top of the stack. Kento hasn’t had a good chance to look at it yet, but he prefers to keep the kid’s business his own for now. “What department are you in?”

“Doesn’t it say so on your paper?”

Smug is a horrible look on him, he wears it too comfortably for a brat who can’t be older than twenty-one.

Kento curses inwardly. “I haven’t had a chance to read your file yet.”

Once again he trades the expression for brief disappointment. “Are you already too busy for me, Nanami-san?”

“Can you answer my question?” Kento asks more firmly this time. He doesn’t understand what Gojo’s deal is, but he isn’t here to play any of these games. “I’ve asked you twice now what department you’re in and I don’t like to repeat myself a third time.”

“Technically you’ve only asked me once—”

“Gojo.”

The kid breaks out into a smile. “You remember my name already.” Kento doesn’t have the time to reprimand him because he finally does decide to answer the question then. “I’m in the marketing department.”

“And?”

“I’ll be in charge of advertising.” He then rattles off a few acronyms that Kento’s unfamiliar with and then ends on his position. “I’m a growth marketer. I prefer the term growth hacker though.”

“Great.” Kento can barely resist the urge to roll his eyes. He’s the business boy of the marketing department, proudly turning over a profit in advertisements. It’s not sales, but it’s barely one step removed.

“What do you do?”

That ineffable smile is back on his face as is his proximity. Two steps removed before being nose to nose. Kento finds himself stepping back again, doesn’t like the way it makes him feel caged or how the printer is right behind him. Soon he’ll find himself without any place to run and perhaps that is exactly Gojo’s purpose: to corner him when he is unable to move elsewhere. It’s enough to make him forget the question altogether. “What?”

Gojo tuts. “Didn’t you dislike questions being asked twice?”

This time Kento feels something snap. “I’m twice your senior and your mentor for the foreseeable future, I would appreciate it if you could reign in the attitude.”

There’s a beat of silence and the momentary satisfaction he gets out of Gojo’s shocked face is quickly snuffed out by what he says next;

“Oh I really love it when you lay down the law, Nanami-san.” He offers him a languid look that feels predatory because it never leaves his face. “I was just asking what your job is.”

“Head of finance.” He says warily.

He doesn’t trust this kid because of the way he looks at him, as though he’s mocking him. It’s the continuous eye contact, the easy grin. The way he’s once again about thirty centimeters removed from Kento, as though he slides forward every time Kento blinks.

It’s ridiculous that he should have to put up with this nonsense when he’s the most senior employee around. Why can’t Kusakabe deal with him? Why isn’t Mei Mei stepping in? Both of them are senior officials: Mei Mei tackles client relations and Kusakabe coasts by as a sales manager. Both would be better choices for the marketing department.

Why him?

“Wow.” It comes out long and slow and Kento is pretty sure he’s being mocked. “That’s really impressive, Nanami-san.”

The discomfort crawls up his spine and lodges there. Gojo doesn’t stop staring at him, his blue-flame gaze that pins him down within the embers. It’s as though Kento flits within a fire and he wants to leave before he burns to a crisp.

“I’ll be at my desk.” He finally manages to push away from the corner he’s been backed into and accidentally shoulders Gojo as he pushes past. “I’ll have time for you one hour from now. Come back then.”

“See you then!”

It makes his skin crawl.

∞

Naobito wasn’t lying.

Kento skims through Gojo’s file with frantic determination, trying to find anything that would make him unfit for the position and coming up woefully short.

Prestigious senior high school, English conversation school, in addition to being a pianist and basketball player. He’s driven, athletic, and comes from a family that has more money than they know what to do with. More importantly: he holds two master’s degrees from Kyoto University in economics and physics. A quick Google search showed that his ancestral home is in Kyoto, but it makes him wonder why he chose to move to Tokyo in the end.

“You called?”

Kento looks up from his papers to find Naoya’s sullen face. “Find him another mentor.”

Naoya was clearly expecting something else. “What?”

“I won’t care about your malicious gossip if you do me the favour of foisting the kid onto someone else.”

“How do you expect me to do that?”

Kento reshuffles the papers and opens up a drawer to place them inside of his desk. “I thought you said you were a Zen’in.” He finally looks up at him and raises an eyebrow. “Isn’t this within your realm of possibilities?”

Naoya colours spectacularly. “I’ll try.” He snaps. “Is that all?”

“You’re dismissed.”

Naoya scowls at him, bows a tad too low, too mocking, for Kento’s liking but makes himself scarce. The Zen’in is more useless than his father, only possesses hot air instead of the shrewd business sense his family is known for, but he’s the reigning office gossip and as such has made himself some valuable connections. It should be easy for him to find another mentor instead of Kento.

Plus, Kento is certain it is Naoya’s connections specifically who would be jumping at the opportunity to mentor the Gojo heir.

∞

The momentary peace doesn’t last long. It’s mid-afternoon when Gojo bursts into his office again, a wild look about his face, while Kento is just trying to eat his bento two hours past lunch. He’s so sick of overdue meetings. When he finally locks eyes with Kento, he doesn’t shout although Kento has come to expect otherwise, but the accusatory finger pointed in Kento’s face is no less appreciated. “Why are you trying to get rid of me, Nanami-san?”

Kento pushes his finger away and scowls himself. Zen’in is skulking about near the doorway, mirroring Kento’s scowl, but refusing to look at him. It appears that Kento’s plan was unsuccessful.

He would almost admire Gojo’s tenacity. Almost.

“I’m not sure if I am the right person to offer you guidance, Gojo.” Kento says. “Our respective jobs have little to do with one another.”

“That’s not a problem then, because I don’t need you to teach me about my job.”

He is unexpectedly arrogant for his age though it falls within Kento’s expectations of the family he hails from. It’s difficult to forget the first day Zen’in junior came into work, restrained though he might be by his father’s eyes and ears in the building. It had been thirty minutes before he was barking orders at the poor receptionist and criticising her choice of blouse.

Gojo doesn’t appear cruel, but neither does he have the restraint that is forced upon Naoya, not when even Naoya’s father backs him.

“Don’t tell me you’re not even going to say anything.”

He is entirely too loud.

It breaks through the quiet of the finance department and picks at the curiosity of many juniors who came after Kento, but who have the sense to keep their gaze firmly on the screen. Gojo has sauntered over to the empty chair beside Kento, arms slung over the back, legs too long for the height of it. Too tall, too loud. Although no one is looking at him directly, Kento feels the sharp sting of embarrassment too keenly.

“If I am not meant to teach you about your job, then why am I even your mentor?” It comes out snippy. Gojo seems nonplussed.

“Just to introduce me to people, walk me through the company, have a coffee with me and ask me how I’m doing. That sorta stuff.”

“That sorta stuff.” Kento repeats, annoyed.

“That’s what Zen’in-kaichou told me.”

There’s the problem.

Zen’in.

Kento is not in the position to outright refuse his boss even though he has tried twice already. Judging by Naoya’s face he has been rightfully scolded for meddling in business where he isn't wanted. Gojo’s expression only tells him that he refuses to accept Kento’s polite refusal.

That only leaves one option.

He sighs deeply. “How long?”

“Three months.”

Kento almost chokes on his spit. “Three months?”

“That’s my probation period.” Gojo shrugs. “Obviously I’m going to ace it, as every other company would love to have me, but I’ll be under your guidance until then.”

“Can I switch with someone else after a month?”

“No can do.”

“You’re asking a ridiculous amount of extra work from me. I’m busy.”

“I’ll help!”

“You can’t help.” Frustration leaks into his tone and he doesn’t care. “You’re not in my department and this is classified information save for a select few.”

“I’ll just bring you coffee then! You’re looking really stressed. I’m sure that will help.”

This is getting nowhere.

Kento had never thought that he was expected to take this kid under his wing for the entire probation period, especially in his position. He doesn’t have the time nor the resources to spare. Kento has always done an excellent job: passed his annual reviews with flying colours, secured several promotions, and he currently acts as the head of finance. There are a thousand different things to do in his position, yet Naobito chose him to help mentor a new hire who comes from outside of his department.

Surely he can’t mean for Gojo to act as a glorified assistant?

But the answer is more sinister than that, Kento realises with dread.

Naobito is trying to get rid of him.

That’s the only reason that makes sense: He can’t fire Kento due to his excellent work record, which will suffer due to the added workload whilst mentoring, and he can’t fire him due to his seniority. Yet if he makes Kento’s working life miserable, he can only assume Kento will quit and he can fill his position with another one of his family members. After all, Naoya has proven himself to be too useless to move up the ladder.

It’s painfully humiliating to realise that all of his years of hard work have amounted to this petty squabble.

Lighten up, Nanami. You’re so standoffish.

What? You’re saying no to drinks again? That would cost you a promotion if you were any less senior.

People are complaining they find it hard to talk to you.

He should have seen it for what it is. It wasn’t so much a gentle reprimand as it was an ominous premonition.

“Are you doing okay?”

Kento pushes his chair back. One hand pressed flat against his desk and feeling so furious it makes him dizzy.

“I’m going outside for a smoke break.”

“I’m coming with you.”

Kento doesn’t have a good excuse to tell him to go away and by the time he realises he could have told him no, he’s already halfway to the left, Gojo stuck by his side. He tries to swallow his ire, but fails. His hands shoved so deeply into his pockets that Gojo ends up pressing the button for him.

If he grinds his teeth any harder, Gojo will hear. But Gojo doesn’t speak and Kento doesn’t question his silence. Once they’re outside he flicks open his lighter and when Gojo holds a hand out, he doesn’t question that either.

Gojo starts coughing almost immediately.

“Easy.” Kento says gruffly. “Don’t smoke if you can’t.”

“I wanted to, ack, bond!” He says in the midst of another coughing fit. Kento happily takes the cigarette from him and takes a long drag, waiting for him to quiet down.

Kento frowns. “We won’t bond over this disaster, I don’t know you.”

“You looked really—” Gojo’s eyes are watery, looking at him through the cut of his lashes.

Kento finishes for him. “Angry?”

“No.” The coughing has stopped but he’s still looking uneasy. “You looked sad actually. Like you were actually so devastated to find out you’ll be stuck with me for three months. It’s kind of offensive if it wasn’t, you know, sad.”

Devastated. That’s laughable: Kento wouldn’t give his life for this company, wouldn’t care if it burned down tomorrow. But it is one more stack against him: one more solid foundation that is crumbling beneath him. No matter how hard he works, it will be taken from him. It’s not the job that Kento cares about, it’s what it represents.

The last thread to Kento’s security.

“Well, you were wrong.” Kento says and schools his expression. He’s gotten good at that, or so he thinks, because Gojo is still looking at him with wary concern.

It’s embarrassing to have a junior so young worry over him like this.

“Is it because of the old man?” It turns out he can be surprisingly astute. “He was kind of pissed when Naoya tried to push a guy called Ranta forward.”

Sometimes it feels like the world was designed to punish him. “I see.”

“He really wanted you to do it.”

“Mmhm.”

“Is it offensive to you?” Gojo asks. His brows are furrowed and his tongue remains quick. “To mentor me for three months?”

“It shouldn’t be my responsibility in my position, I’m sure a young master like you can understand that.”

“Quit the young master bullshit.” Gojo rolls his eyes. “My parents were really unhappy I left Kyoto, y’know? Especially when I decided to come work for this company.”

He’s more honest than he should be to a stranger. It is strangely endearing. “Family rivalry?”

“Sure, you could call it that.” Gojo shrugs. “They hate each other’s guts.”

“So you decided on this company like some rebellious teenager? That does sound like typical young master behaviour to me.”

He can’t help it. He shouldn’t say it, but it’s too easy not to. All of these petty squabbles seem contained to the early twenties, except Kento never had such a rebellious streak. Perhaps it’s why he feels envious of Gojo, of his youth but also his grit, to feel like he can go against the mould cut out for him. He expects him to be angry but to his surprise, Gojo just starts laughing. “Perhaps it is. You don’t understand how stifling it was, Tokyo feels like freedom to me.”

Kento really is envious. Tokyo has never felt like freedom to him: merely a last resort. He’d much rather pack up and move to his hometown if it meant he never had to interact with another human being again.

Yu had hesitantly offered that it sounded like depression. Kento brushed him off.

“So tell me then.” Gojo says when Kento lapses into silence. “Is it the old man?”

Now it’s him who chokes on the cigarette smoke. It’s uncomfortable how easily Gojo appears to pick up on things. “I feel that he’s trying to bog me down.”

“Why?” Gojo frowns.

Of course, he’s young. Why would he be familiar with the practice? Naobito doesn’t like him, never has and Kento has never given him a reason to resort to more drastic measures. Gojo appearing created an opportunity for him.

Kento doesn’t care to keep up pretenses anymore. They haven’t worked out in his favour so far.

“So that I quit. I am too busy to mentor you all the time, yet I am expected to take on this task on top of my other responsibilities. There is no way to refuse, so I suppose he hopes to wear me out.”

Gojo whistles. “Sheesh. Corporate culture sure is scary.”

That pulls a thin smile from him. “I suppose so.”

“You’re not gonna quit though, are you?” Gojo scoffs. “Giving him what he wants is really pathetic, if you ask me. And it’s definitely not gonna be because of me because I’m going to make sure you know I’m amazing.”

It pulls a weary smile from him. “We’ll have to see about your work ethic then.”

Gojo beams at him.

“You won’t regret it, Nanami-san!”

Notes:

I started this back in December and at this point I just want to share something without the pressure of finalising a 20k one-shot. I saw that one manga of old man bottom / young eager top and I just felt it in my bones that it had to be GoNana. I will also be heavily drawing on my own experience as Tired Office Worker, so I hope you appreciate the sort of environment I'm in, haha.
I'm trying not to stick to an updating schedule this time (I'm pregnant and exhausted lmao), but I hope to finalise the other chapters soon.

(Yes it'll be explicit, but not yet.)

Hope you enjoy it!

Chapter 2

“Here’s your coffee, Nanami-san!”

Kento takes the offered mug, the one Haibara had given to him before he left the company, with a wary hand. “How’d you know this one was mine?”

Gojo’s smile is guileless. “I asked around.”

They’re three days into their training. Kento had told Gojo he always started work early, expecting to run him off, but Gojo had appeared bright and chipper with no dark circles to be detected. Kento still isn’t sure what to make of him: the few expectations he’s had were met and the multitudes of preconceptions have so far proven to be wrong. Most of them, given by the shameless way he asks around regarding Kento and doesn’t appear embarrassed at all.

Kento thinks shame might not be an emotion Gojo is capable of.

“Who did you ask?” Kento asks, just to make conversation.

Gojo turns to look at him with a grin. “That’s a secret.”

And Kento is promptly reminded of the fact why he was so against having him for a mentee in the first place. “Please don’t ruin any first impressions.”

Or my reputation.

“I haven’t! I simply told them you were my mentor, that’s all. You should still introduce me to people, remember? It would have been easier to find your mug if I’d known a few people.”

Kento sighs. “I have a report to finish, please come back in two hours. By then I can arrange some proper introductions.”

“You’re the best, Nanami-san!”

He’s off before Kento can blink. At eight in the morning that leaves him and quiet Nitta before the rest come trodging in. It’s Kento’s way of being visible when he refuses the late hours and after work drinks.

He wonders what it is that Gojo does. He had mentioned something about advertisement but all Kento knows are billboards and those do not seem conducive to the line of business they’re in.

“Nitta, who’s in the marketing department again?”

Nitta, who had been nodding off on his own mug of coffee, snaps up. “What? Marketing? Do they have additional budget needs that need to be approved?”

Kento decides not to scold him. “I need to introduce Gojo-kun to more people. The marketing department only has one person right?”

The relief on Nitta’s face is palpable. He quickly wipes away the mustache of coffee and muses, “Yeah there is one person at least. She’s been there for a while now, what was her name again…?”

Before he can give it much further thought, the rapid thunder of footsteps startle both him and Nitta, followed by;

“Nanami-saaaaaannn!”

Oh no.

It couldn’t have been more than five minutes. Yet Gojo comes rounding the corner, throwing himself into the empty chair next to Kento and dramatically burrowing his face into his crossed forearms on the desk. “Nanami-san, she’s mean to me!”

Gojo-kun comes with a manual in a language that Kento cannot read. Even looking at him and knowing how unprofessional the situation is, he doesn’t know how to react. His own heart hasn’t stopped racing and poor Nitta looks as though his spirit has fled his body; the wild-eyed look he gives Kento is not one Kento can answer at present. For one moment he thought everything would be okay, but—

“Who’s mean to you?” He asks, bewildered, realising belatedly that this is giving legitimacy to Gojo’s claims.

Gojo lifts his head. His pout is unbecoming on him. “Utahime.”

Ah.

Now Kento remembers. Nitta quietly mouths Utahime to Kento with a solid nod as though Kento still needs confirmation in their current situation. Rather than giving Gojo more ammunition, Kento sighs deeply. “I told you I needed to finish my reports. Surely you can handle the situation by yourself.”

“No, you gotta do something.”

Whatever shred of hope Kento’d had that Gojo might turn out to be a decent mentee has evaporated by now. Whiskey at eight in the morning is starting to sound like a great alternative to the coffee he’s still holding, tepid, in his hand.

“No.” Kento says sternly. “I told you not to ruin first impressions. If you can’t go back to your office, then you can work quietly over there.” He points to the furthest corner of his office. “I don’t want to hear anything for the next two hours.”

The pout grows ever bigger. “But Utahime—”

“Will be left well enough alone until I finish my reports.” Kento gestures again. “Go on.”

Gojo goes. (Not without making his displeasure known by huffing dramatically)

Kento’s peace does not return.

∞

As it turns out Utahime has been in the company for five years and this is the first time that Kento is meeting her. For all Kento has been told, she’s a diligent worker (according to Niita, who pitied him), and has run most of the marketing department by herself since she first started. Of course, that would explain why she is unhappy with Gojo starting in a department she’s set up.

“Nanami-san.” It surprises him that she knows his name when he had been unaware of hers. “I respectfully request that I don't have to work with him.”

Kento wonders what he’s done to deserve playing mediator between two adults.

“Utahime-san, that isn’t my call to make.” He says respectfully. “Is there any particular reason as to why you can’t work together?”

“You’re his mentor aren’t you?”

Fail his probation, her furious eyes say, fail him so I can be rid of him.

“I am here to supervise him, which is why I’d like to know what he’s done for you to insist he leaves.”

Gojo has been here for three days. Surely it can’t be that bad? But then he thinks of ‘He’s hot’ and realises he might have a way worse situation on his hands. He resists the urge to rub his temples to stave off his pending headache and it’s not even nine in the morning.

“He told me that email marketing is archaic compared to advertisement.”

Kento isn’t in marketing which means he is clueless when it comes to the nature of her job, but he understands enough from said context that Gojo has essentially insulted her job. That’s bad but to his own horrible relief, at least it's not sexual harassment again, which seems exclusively reserved for him. He takes a deep breath. “Gojo-kun, I would like for you to apologise to your senior colleague for upsetting her.”

He hopes the emphasis on senior informs Gojo of the appropriate response. Two seconds after having said it, that hope seems to be futile.

Gojo hasn’t said a word so far, but at this he finally turns in his chair to stare indignantly at Kento. “That’s not even what I said!”

“Yes you did!”

“I said that only sending out basic awareness emails will not create any revenue, unlike building a proper marketing automation funnel which could support advertising. I even said I’d help you build it if you didn’t know how to do it!”

“That’s honestly even more insulting than what I said you said!”

“How is that insulting? You clearly haven’t done it!”

Utahime’s face is turning an impressive shade of crimson and Kento cradles his mug close out of fear she might throw it at Gojo’s head if he continues to insult her.

“You said that social media without ad spend was pointless!” She snaps. “You acted like my copywriting was a waste of time.”

“I said we should boost some of these organic posts you’ve been doing to reach a wider audience if you can’t get more people to follow the page. I also think that if you’re doing copy then it would be a better plan to spend your efforts on producing content that actually converts.”

Kento presses his hands flat on the table. “Enough.”

It quiets.

Kento takes advantage of the momentary peace he’s gained by taking a sip of his lukewarm coffee whilst Utahime is glaring daggers at Gojo and Gojo looks as though he wants to open his mouth again. One scathing look over the rim of his mug persuades him of the opposite.

This is exactly why he didn’t want to play mentor to anyone: not only does not understand the technicalities of either of their jobs, Kento isn’t a people-person. This seems more appropriate for either their manager or HR. However, if Nitta is to be believed, there is no proper manager for the marketing team, which would explain why Kento’s forced to mentor Gojo. Additionally, taking this issue to HR would reflect poorly on him, having a major incident under his belt within three days of his new stint at mentoring.

So, miserably, he tries anyway.

“I am sure I don’t have to tell either of you that working together is in the best interest of the company.” A company that clearly doesn’t give much of a damn about any of us. “If this is how you choose to collaborate in the three days since Gojo-kun has started, I dread to think of your performance review in a few months.”

Their silence has turned unmistakably sullen.

“I propose two things: One, respect each other’s respective work space. Two, solve this amongst each other like adults. Understood?”

Grumbling follows.

“I am asking you whether you understood. I have a lot of work to catch up on and this is not part of my job description, I will not be doing it again.”

“Yes Nanami-san.” “Understood, Nanami-san.”

“Great.” When Kento finally gets up he feels as though he’s aged five years. “Gojo-kun, I encourage you to find a way to work together with Utahime-san today.”

“But—”

“I don’t want to hear from you for the rest of the afternoon.”

“Fine.”

∞

Slipping out of the office has become a practised habit. It’s a courteous nod to Nitta, who presents him with the same, and carefully packing up the essentials when the clock has ticked past five in the evening. It’s right as he steps across the threshold that an anomaly in his practised routine appears: Gojo who comes walking around the corner, surprised when he looks at Kento’s briefcase in hand, before stepping carelessly close again.

“You’re leaving?”

It’s stating the obvious. “It’s five. I was here at eight this morning.”

So were you, he doesn’t say. Gojo may not be senior but he’s a nepotist hire and for that he might be afforded different sensibilities all the same.

“But it’s Friday.” Gojo says as if that makes a difference. “I assumed you’d come out for a drink.”

Of course he did. No one would ever dare outright question him on it, the questions have always been wrapped up in passive aggression until eventually it was only said behind his back. Kento is fine with that: it’s Gojo’s direct approach he isn’t used to.

“You have a very direct manner of speech.”

“Are you scolding me?”

He should look upset but instead he looks smug, that upturned quirk of his mouth. The challenge that it lays at Kento’s feet makes something inside Kento’s stomach squirm unpleasantly.

“I am.” Kento decides the only way to repay Gojo’s honesty is with his own. “It’s none of your business whether I am joining for a drink.”

I’m old, leave me alone.

“But I want to thank you for the past week. That’s the proper thing to do, isn’t it?”

Unfortunately, he’s right.

“There is no need.” Kento says brusquely. He hitches his briefcase higher up his shoulder and prays that Gojo is going to leave it alone. “I don’t typically come out for drinks.”

“Well you said you’d introduce me to people and isn’t after-hours the best way to talk to people?”

“You can do that by yourself.”

He’s selfish, but he’s social and amicable. Smalltalk is a skill Kento has never possessed but Gojo masters it: he’s gotten quiet Nitta to talk about his sister and his elderly parents when it had only been his first day. Yet even when he’s selfish and pushy, like today, it doesn’t appear to bother him. Kento envies his ability to bypass social norms and come out on the other end smiling.

This is exactly why he doesn’t need Kento to introduce him to people. Gojo’s the type of person to get along well with the larger part of the company that goes out for these drinks, unlike Kento who would take up a corner seat and await the perfect opportunity to make a quiet exit.

Kento startles when Gojo takes his wrist. “Nah, I want you to come with me.” He laughs and Kento finds a hot flash creep up his neck when Gojo pulls him towards the lift. As one of the first to leave, very few people notice them when Kento fails to reclaim his arm or when Gojo ushers him in first.

“Naoya said there’s a bar you all go to.”

Yes, Kento hates that bar.

“Let go of me, Gojo-kun.”

Gojo laughs. “No way, you’ll just run away from me.”

Something about the way he laughs sets Kento’s teeth on edge. It’s not disingenuous, but it feels like mockery. He finally tears himself free and this time Gojo doesn’t make a grab for his arm again. “One drink.” Kento says, annoyed he’s giving him this much. “Then I’ll go home.”

“Aw.” Gojo pouts. “How are you going to introduce me to people then?”

“Zen’in will be there.”

“Haha, you really don’t like Naoya, huh?”

Kento should learn to bite his tongue. “I have no feelings towards him.”

“You’d be the first then, you liar. It’s not as if anyone else really likes him, they just like his pretty face.”

Pretty face. There is that uncomfortable feeling that digs its way into Kento’s stomach again. Men don’t typically refer to other men that way, even the ones as young as Gojo. He tries not to think about it, but it’s impossible not to. “I thought you were friends.” He says instead, because he doesn’t want to think about Zen’in’s face in detail, nor what Gojo means by that.

Gojo laughs again. “Nah.” But he doesn’t elaborate and Kento doesn’t ask.

The bar isn’t too crowded yet. There is one stray coworker Kento recognises from another department, but he doesn’t recognise Gojo and Kento’s presence is clearly a surprise. Another courtesy nod and then Gojo lines himself up at the bar. “What are you having?”

“Just a beer.”

“You sure? It’s my treat!”

He doesn’t need to be indebted to a twenty-something-year-old. “I’m sure.”

Kento doesn’t allow himself to relax until he’s sought out the furthest corner in the bar, up against the wall, right in sight of the door. It’s a vantage point as much as it is an escape route and when Gojo returns with one beer and one suspiciously fruity drink, he can’t find Kento straightaway. He peers and then frowns when he finally finds him, pushing his way past a gaggle of girls until he sits right at the table with him. “You hiding from me?”

“Not particularly.” Kento says. “I prefer this seat.”

“Oh so you have been here before!”

“Now and then.”

Gojo pushes the beer towards him and now Kento notices that Gojo’s drink has a straw and an umbrella in it. “You’re having a cocktail?”

“Nope.” He twirls the umbrella before taking a tentative sip. “It’s a mocktail, I don’t drink alcohol.”

The surprise must show clearly on his face because Gojo immediately asks, “What?” and Kento feels embarrassed for not keeping a tighter reign on his assumptions.

“I wasn’t expecting it.” He takes a sip of his beer. “You’re young.”

And chatty. Social.

“I don’t like the way it makes me feel. Alcohol just makes me sluggish and I like to stay sharp.”

Kento wants to warn him against telling any of his coworkers but he knows it to be a futile effort. Gojo would laugh it off and likely wouldn’t lie, even for the sake of protecting his budding career. Office workers come here to drink, let loose, and they don’t like it when there is one who doesn’t bend to that particular mould. If all of their secrets are laid bare by alcohol, they don’t like a sober one in their midst whose vulnerabilities will remain hidden. It would be better to lie, to pretend it’s a cocktail, even if he will get teased about it. But for however little Kento’s known him, Gojo doesn’t seem like he’d ever fall victim to peer pressure.

Or perhaps it doesn’t matter in his position: nepotism hires get special treatment.

Envy isn’t a good feeling.

“Be careful.” Kento says, not unkindly. “They expect you to drink. It’s better to pretend sometimes.”

Gojo doesn’t heed him. He sips his drink the way Kento knew he would, smiles big at him as the froth coats his mouth, and tells him. “You worry too much.”

“Satoru!”

Zen’in’s voice is not the one he wanted to hear tonight. Kento has managed to avoid him thus far, but it is impossible to find refuge in this environment Outside, the rain has started to pelt, and the bleached hair sticks to his forehead in strings. Kento always wondered how he got away with it: no one else is allowed to dye their hair. He was under the utmost scrutiny when he first started until Kento proved that, yes, he had Danish heritage. Zen’in frowns when notices Kento, then decides it’s after-hours and he feels a little braver than he did in-office. “What are you doing here?”

“Having a drink.” Kent says. “It seems pretty obvious.”

Zen’in colours red. “You don’t show up to these things.”

“Well.” Gojo says grandly. “He hasn’t had the pleasure of my company before. It’s not my fault you’re not entertaining, Naoya.”

“Shut up, Satoru.”

Pretty, Kento thinks as he looks at the blonde, is that what Gojo thinks? Fox-like and wispy, skinny waist and frail veined hands. His too-sharp chin that juts out like a rock splitting open the sea, with thin lips and a disposition entirely too much like his father’s.

Kento doesn’t think he’s pretty at all.

Predictably, Zen’in pulls Gojo from his chair. Sneers, “You don’t mind, do you?” and drags him off to the bar. Gojo protests, tries to pull back, but Kento waves him off. Better for a peer to introduce him to his coworkers than an old man.

If Kento were younger would he have guided him? Would he have slapped Gojo on the shoulder, the way Zen’in feels comfortable doing? Or would he watch, the way he does now, from the furthest corner of the room as Mei Mei seizes Gojo up and grins her white-toothed smile. She is followed by others, some curious, some wary, until they all get wrapped up in Gojo’s boyish charm. As expected, Gojo’s drink garners a few odd looks and a scattered laugh but he shows no hint of embarrassment. Confidence which had seemed cocky before shines in the way he brushes off the comments easily with a sharp rebuke. His smile disarms, lessens the sting of none-careful words.

Kento would have never gotten along with him.

He’s intrigued all the same.

It isn’t long before Mei Mei slides into the empty seat. “It’s rare to see you here.”

Kento has ordered his second beer already. “It’s no less common for you to be here.”

“Well, a little birdie told me that the Gojo heir would be here tonight. I can’t pass on an opportunity like that.”

“You work in the same building.” A waiter’s brought over his second beer and Kento drinks it with practised ease. “You would have met him soon enough.”

As a client relations manager, your jobs overlap more than mine.

“He would have been professional.” Mei Mei muses. “It’s better to get to know people organically.”

“You mean you wanted him drunk and guileless.” Kento says dryly.

“Gojo family secrets don’t come cheap, darling. It would have been mutually beneficial.”

“Mutual how?”

“I would have definitely introduced him to some interesting people outside of the company if we’d become friendly. Shame he doesn’t drink though.” Kento is positive he can almost hear a pout in her voice.

“Mei-san, you don’t drink either.”

“Just the one.” She lifts her wine glass. “To be polite. It’s the least he could do, didn’t you teach him that, mentor-san?”

Kento meets her smile with a frown. “It’s no one’s business whether he drinks or not.”

“Ohh, now there’s a scary face. You know I was just joking, Nanami-san.” It never is a joke with her. Kento can’t ever be sure which of the faces she wears is the real one and that is exactly why she is excellent with new clients. “It’s uncommon though, for one so young as he is.”

“Hmm.”

Staring down at his empty beer glass, Kento wonders if he can quietly make his exit. Looking over, Gojo seems to be wrapped up in a heated discussion with Kusakabe over something.

“Aren’t you going to interfere?”

Should he? He watches the spots dot Kusakabe’s neck and the way Gojo’s eyes narrow. It’s not his fight and outside office hours definitely not his responsibility. “Absolutely not.”

“Well, this has been nice.” Mei Mei smooths over the length of her skirt as she gets up. Her long braid is swung gracefully over her shoulder and does the waiter the courtesy of almost smacking him in the face with it. “I have to hurry home.”

She’s gone before Kento can blink.

Her tab will be picked up by someone else again and Kento wants to leave before that poor soul will be him. As he glances over, Gojo’s now being slapped on the back by Kusakabe with a mixed expression on his face. Another round of drinks is ordered under the loud cheers of the youngest people at the bar and Kento realises it’s now or never.

Turning around, he starts gathering his things: coat, briefcase, and making sure he has the spare change for the bartender when he feels someone tapping his shoulder.

“It’s been a while.”

Honeyed voice. Red-lacquered nails. The citrusy scent of her perfume.

He stiffens.

“I was about to leave.” He says without turning around.

He already knows. His heart stalls as his body does, trapped in the same moment every time he meets her, the words that have been etched into his psyche.

I’m cheating on you.

Her laugh cuts through the chatter of the bar, cold and impersonal. “That’s so typical of you, Kento.”

He wishes she wouldn’t call him that anymore. He had loved her, once. But he wonders whether that ended when she cheated on him or some time before then, when the late nights had blurred into early mornings, or why she couldn’t remember how he liked his coffee anymore, or how slowly the bed no longer dipped in the middle when they slept together. He wonders what it would have changed if he’d spoken up then, months before the cheating, and even longer before the breakup.

Kento turns around and finds her alone. She smiles at him, but it isn’t sincere. She’s as startled to find him here as he is to find her. No ring on her finger even though he has never taken off his.

It’s a force of habit that embarrasses him now. It was easier to keep it, to keep any questions at bay, but right now he wishes he’d tossed it in the garbage along with the belongings she never came to pick up.

“Are you here with coworkers?” He says just to avoid the topic, just because he can’t get himself to ask her to stop calling him Kento.

“Yes.” She casts a quick furtive glance over her shoulder. “This isn’t my standard bar, as you know.”

He hates the little bits of information that are hardwired in his memory. Kento met her because their offices were close together, because he joined in on a few Friday drinks and so had she. Back when he had been younger and couldn’t say no to a drink, back when he may have even enjoyed it. “You grew your hair out.”

It’s a mistake the second he’s said it.

She cocks her head to the side, her long hair cascading over her shoulder as if to emphasise the point. A quick furtive glance at Kento’s hand, realising the ring is still there and that’s the point where her smile turns mean. Her mouth opens in a retort until—

“Nanami-san!”

Relief floods through him. He doesn’t even care when Gojo’s hand lands on his shoulder, how his warm breath wafts over Kento as he leans in conspirationally, his mouth close to Kento’s ear. “Who’s she?”

Kento doesn’t have the grace to answer him. Takako doesn’t look all too pleased at the interruption. Once again, she opens her mouth to retort but Gojo interrupts her again before she can humiliate him with the words his ex-wife—

“You’re supposed to be paying attention to me.”

Kento sputters. “Don’t be ridiculous—”

Gojo’s other hand finds his way to Kento’s free shoulder and he gently leads him back to the table where he realises two new drinks have already been set upon the wood. “No, I left you alone for too long. I should’ve realised you would have tried to sneak away, but that’s not happening!”

The chair is pulled out for him and Gojo’s hands on his shoulders usher him back into his seat. He even pushes the chair back in like they’re on a date and Kento finds himself without protest for once. The situation is too bizarre.

“Uh.” Gojo gestures at Takako, still standing too close and still looking as if she swallowed acid. “Why is she still standing here? Kind of embarrassing y’know. It’s me you’re talking to now, so she’s free to go.”

“Excuse me?!”

“Takako.” Kento is well-familiar with her temper and he doesn’t want to see how Gojo’s attitude plays into it. “It’s best if you leave.”

Rather than focus on the fury he can feel behind him, he focuses on Gojo’s face. Gojo, who doesn’t seem to bother looking at her, and just keeps smiling at Kento. No sooner does he hear the door to the bar open and slam shut does Gojo finally ask again.

“So who was she? You seemed to be on a first-name basis.”

Kento covers his right hand with his left. Gojo notices straightaway but doesn’t say anything yet and Kento feels his mouth work around words that he hasn’t said out loud in over a year. “An ex.”

“Seemed pretty intense for an ex.” Gojo holds his gaze. “You looked uncomfortable. Actually, you still look really uncomfortable.”

“Why do you care?” Kento sighs, aggrieved, and resents the position he’s now forced into. “I am not one for personal talk, Gojo-kun. We hardly know each other.”

“Well she was all over you.” He is still smiling, unfazed. “I can’t have competition.”

There it is again. A sense of foreboding that should have him run because the words are too sincere in their flirtatiousness.

“I—” Kento starts. He tries to focus on a question that seems absurd, and yet here he is answering it sincerely. A fool, him. “There is no competition.”

Which is the exact wrong thing to say when Gojo’s smile turns sharper, his long body leaning in closer to Kento as he finally pushes Kento’s left hand away from his right. His finger runs along the edge of Kento’s ring and it feels too intimate, what if someone sees—

“Well, Nanami-san.” He winks at him. “That makes this job of seducing you way easier on me.”

Oh no. He’s serious.

Notes:

Sorry, again. Life's been super hectic: started a new job and a massive health scare in my family (they're doing OK!).

Gojo is:
1) very serious
2) very very serious about making you feel desirable Nanami.

Hope you enjoyed it!

Chapter 3

Kento does his best to ignore it. He’d gone home, ignored the words that had imprinted on the forefront of his mind, ignored it as it kept him awake, and ignored it as he dreamed about it.

Seducing you.

Kento’s woken up by the sound of his phone softly buzzing and by the time he groggily grabs it, it’s already stopped. Kento’s not a light sleeper, but he hasn’t slept well, and if a text is enough to wake him up at an ungodly hour in the morning then that’s enough distraction to put his mind off the other day.

Haibara: Are you alive?? You haven’t responded to my texts!

Kento scrolls up. He finds another restaurant with overhanging plants indoors and a charming bar in the background where Haibara’s wife is enjoying her wine. Haibara has gotten tan and smiles into the camera. Below it is a caption: please come visit us soon!

In spite of himself, Kento smiles.

“I was out on Friday.” After some consideration, he sends another. “You know the usual wrap-up of the quarter is coming up. Taking time off would be tricky.”

It’s too early to be texting at six in the morning, but he’s awake so he may as well get up. The bed creaks and then he makes his way over to the bathroom. By the time he’s brushing his teeth, Haibara has already sent a text back.

Haibara: I’m glad you went out. Did you have a good time?

Kento spits into the sink. When he looks up into the mirror he finds that his face is tinged pink.

Seducing you.

What would Haibara even say? He’s younger than Kento by ten years, and they always got along great, but he’s not as young as Gojo and he doesn’t want him to get the wrong impression. Kento didn’t encourage this. Hell, he doesn’t know what to do with it. He stares at the text for too long, can feel his heart pulse in his throat, nervous even though he shouldn’t be. Haibara is his close friend, perhaps he could… But he disagrees with that idea as soon as it forms: Haibara wouldn’t be able to help, half a world away, and would only needlessly worry.

“It was alright. I’ve done my civic duty by showing up so they won’t bother me about it for a while.”

Kento just hopes that Gojo’s forgotten about it when Monday rolls around.

.

Monday does roll around and so does Gojo, casually strolling into his office before Kento has a chance to settle, taking up residence in the desk next to his and smiling brightly at him. “Good morning, Nanami-san!”

Nitta isn’t even here yet. Kento hasn’t even had coffee yet but then Gojo produces a steaming mug and sets it upon his desk, still smiling at him.

Kento hasn’t had time to process this. Warily, he takes the mug. “Thank you.”

“Did you have a good weekend?”

No, he thinks, I’ve been worried about the repercussions of your little stunt and wondering if you are yet another obstacle set in my path by Naobito. I wonder if you’re going to get me fired by acting indecent and blaming me.

He needs to have this conversation.

“Gojo-kun.” He says while Gojo’s slung over his chair again, arms resting on the backrest, long legs sprawled over the floor. Kento ignores the way he’s grinning at him, ignores the way it makes him feel caged when Gojo sits so close to him. “Friday night shouldn’t happen again.”

“What do you mean?”

Kento feels a vein throb. “You can’t keep saying such things to me, especially to me. I don’t want either of us to deal with whatever mess you’re creating, so please for both our sakes: keep it professional.”

For a second, nothing changes, but then Gojo cocks his head at him. “Why?”

Infuriating. It makes Kento’s hands itch because why is he like this and what has Kento done, ever, to deserve this situation? Hasn’t he always tried to be a good person, hasn’t he always tried to do his job properly? First there’s the cheating, then there was his best friend leaving, and now there is this. He wants it to stop, just so he can have a semblance of a life back where his life line isn’t used as a skipping rope by other people, making his pulse jump.

“What do you mean ‘why’? I’m your mentor. This isn’t appropriate.”

“If you’re worried you’d be taking advantage of me—”

Kento’s lurching forward and presses a flat hand against Gojo’s mouth, heart thumping in his throat, hissing; “Quiet. Who knows who’s listening in?”

Gojo gently pushes his hand away and laughs. “Nanami-san, it’s not even eight yet. Nitta won’t be here for another thirty minutes.”

Kento knows he’s right but it doesn’t stop the anxiety from sprawling, doesn’t stop his breathing from going quick and ragged. He doesn’t need this. “I told you already—”

“Nanami-san.” Gojo says sagely. “You’re going to burn your hand if you don’t put your mug down.” And then he simply takes the mug from Kento’s trembling hands, whether he’s anxious or furious Kento can’t even tell, and places it back down. “I’m not here to make life harder for you. I’m not going to run to Naoya or make up stories and I know that’s, like, hard for you to believe right now, but I mean that.”

“Then why—”

Gojo interrupts him before he can finish his thought. Again. “Because I am serious about one thing and with respect to our professional environment I will say only that I’ve already told you that Friday.”

Kento looks at him dumbfounded. Gojo only smiles. “So unless you have major objections, I’d like to get on with work now, please.”

Kento doesn’t even have a retort for him because it’s at exactly that moment that Nitta walks through the door.

“Morning, Nanami-san. Oh, Gojo-kun, you’re here early…”

Kento’s mind is spinning. It’s all he can do to take a sip of his coffee and realise instantly that this hasn’t come from the coffee machine further down the hall, but from the café next to their building.

Perfectly done.

While Gojo is chatting away with Nitta, he stares right at Kento and offers him another knowing smile.

Perfectly infuriating.

∞

“That’s incredibly stupid, actually.”

It’s eleven in the morning and Kento has decided, after his coffee, to at least familiarise Gojo with the protocol of dealing with other teams and requests. He has just finished pointing out their requests and QA-system when Gojo comes right out the gate with a different kind of nonsense. Kento sighs deeply. “What is it this time?”

“It’s overcomplicated. It’s archaic.” He is rapidly drumming his fingers on the desk. Kento is glad he was smart enough to book a separate meeting room so no one else overheard his office faux-pas. “I’m honestly just not going to do it.”

“How else do you expect Utahime-san to fulfil your requests?”

Gojo stares at him as if Kento’s the one who’s stupid. “She’s my coworker, it is much quicker if we schedule a weekly and go through the items as needed.”

“What about her other responsibilities? What about yours?” Kento shouldn’t even be entertaining this discussion. They have worked with this system since he has started working here and although it has seen a few updates, Gojo isn’t wrong in saying that it is slow and cumbersome. It is simply that this is the way things are done because there is no other alternative. It is the only way to keep track of the flow of incoming tasks and ensure a proper standard is being followed.

Ironically, Utahime seems to like it given the numerous tasks that have been colour-coded to her satisfaction. Kento had pulled it up on the big screen so Gojo could see what a typical workload looks like, but it seems that had been a mistake.

“There’s different planning systems if need be. Or at the very least—” He gets up and walks over to the screen. He’s pointing at several steps in the journey with added vigor. “We can cut these steps out.”

It’s not practical. It’s not how it’s done. Kento scowls without meaning to. “That is not how it works.”

“Ohhh, scary face.”

“You’ve only been here a week, you don’t even properly understand the systems which is why I am telling you that there is no alternative. We can’t just go ahead skipping important steps of the process because you simply think it takes too much time.”

“It can be done.” Gojo shoots back. “You’re just being a stubborn old man because you’ve been stuck doing the same thing for so long.”

That stings. Kento knows he’s old, likely stuck in his ways, but it’s still irksome to hear it from a twenty-something-year-old who has barely made any mileage within a company. Childishly, it makes him want to snap back ‘and yet you still wanted to seduce me?’ But that’s ridiculous because Kento has already made it very clear that that particular avenue is closed. “Do what you want.” He says icily. “But I will not be responsible for the fallout.”

Gojo looks legitimately startled.

“Nanami-san—”

Kento unplugs the cable from his laptop and the whole system disappears off screen while Gojo still stands next to it, worrying his lower lip between his teeth, eyebrows knit together. “I have another meeting.”

He leaves Gojo to the meeting room and lets the door fall shut quietly.

Gojo doesn’t follow him out.

∞

He’s not annoyed. That is what he tells himself twenty minutes later, clicking his pen for the tenth time in a row and getting a gentle elbow from Mei Mei, who manages to keep her face perfectly poised. Better her elbow than a sharp jab of her stiletto heel, Kento thinks, but he still finds it hard to put the pen down. He needs something to do with his hands, anything to keep them occupied, lest he starts leaving half-moons in his palms.

But he is annoyed. It’s not just unprofessional, it’s simply rude for a starter to tell a senior how to do their job. It’s the sheer nerve of him that Kento can’t stand because it only shows how Gojo has lived most of his life free of consequences and that Kento has been giving him too much leeway.

His Teams lights up.

1 new message.

As Toshihisa drones on in the background, Kento opens Teams.

Gojo Satoru: I left an apology on your desk. :(

What follows is a complex series of emoticons that Kento doesn’t understand nor does he want to. For a moment he aims to ignore the text, but he’s forgotten that he has never turned read receipts off and therefore he finds another message soon afterward.

Gojo Satoru: [picture attached]

It’s a sandwich. From the wrapping Kento can tell that it’s from the bakery across the street he sometimes gets lunch from and that act in itself makes him feel more exposed than necessary. First it was the mug, then there was the coffee order from this morning (though not his favourite, admittedly), and now he’s aware of the bakery Kento frequents, even though Gojo has respectfully kept his distance during lunch hours.

He can quickly see Gojo typing when he doesn’t respond and Mei Mei is already throwing him a curious look so Kento finds himself responding.

Kento: That was unnecessary.

Gojo: Ouch. I went out of my way, you know? I don’t want you to be mad at me.

Kento tries not to sigh.

Kento: You could have said you were sorry. That would have solved the issue.

Gojo is typing again. Kento has started tilting his laptop away from Mei Mei’s curious eyes.

Gojo: That would be too simple.

Kento: And yet you haven’t come up with such a simple solution. I thought you were top of your class?

Gojo: Oh you memorised my resume? I’m so flattered, Nanami-san. Here I thought you weren’t interested in me. (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

Kento has the urge to slam his laptop shut.

Kento: That was obnoxious. Never do that again.

Gojo: Do what again? These? (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝)ﾉ♡ , ✧⁺⸜(●′▾‵●)⸝⁺✧, (｡•ㅅ•｡)♡

“What are your estimations for the next quarter, Nanami-san?”

They’re all looking at him. Mei Mei can barely keep the amusement from her face as she steeples her lacquered nails together, grin small but noticeable. It’s Toshihisa who looks at Kento expectantly and Kento struggles to find the relevant notes to answer the question. Estimations for what? Their finances? The workload? Even Nitta isn’t throwing him a bone, he’s sat in the corner and throws Kento a look of pity that feels too much like a brand of shame.

“I’m sorry, do you mean the budget approvals, the estimated spend or a guess at our workload?”

Toshihisa blinks at him.

“I was asking about risk management, Nanami-san.”

Fuck. He guessed wrong.

Mei Mei snorts and Kento resists giving her an elbow back. The back of his neck feels warm and he’s not sure whether he can keep the heat out of his face entirely. When he finds his voice again, it is measured and level, which is only through years of experience. Ten years ago he might have crumbled under the embarrassment. “Let me quickly gather my notes.” Gojo has sent him five more messages and the indignant anger he feels flares up again. He clicks away Teams and opens his notes. It shouldn’t bother him that Teams still flashes red in the background, as it ticks into six, seven, eight messages that Kento tries hard to ignore.

“The tax regulations are getting tighter in Q4 and these will affect our bottom line if we do not update our current practices. Our clients will move elsewhere if we’re too late anticipating these changes.” He drones on and he can feel the room relax, lulled by the boring statistics of client risk assessment and ensuring compliance by the end of the year. “So risk management for Q4 is being prepared in Q3.”

A few murmurs. Nodding.

Toshihisa moves on.

Mei Mei whispers. “Good save, Nanami-san. I’m sure Gojo-kun will be delighted hearing he distracted you from our quarterly.”

This time Kento does feel the heat in his face bloom.

∞

The wrapped sandwich is still on his desk by the time Kento returns but there is no sign of Gojo. He’s not sure whether he should be happy or not: part of him still feels like asking Gojo why he chose this bakery specifically and a part of him doesn’t want to see him after he got Kento distracted during an important meeting. Unwrapping the sandwich, Nitta finally walks into the office, carrying a stack of papers. He blinks at the sandwich. “Oh, did Gojo-kun get that for you?”

“Why?”

“Saw him making a mad dash to the lifts an hour ago as I was moving between meetings.”

“And your immediate assumption was that it was for me?”

This could be a problem.

Nitta grins sheepishly. “You looked kind of pissed off during the meeting, Nanami-san. We’ve been working together for some time now, you don’t really let your emotions get to you like that unless Gojo-kun did something to piss you off.”

Great. Gojo is now slowly chipping away at his professionalism. Kento looks at the sandwich and wonders if he should take a bite with Nitta watching him like this, amused.

“I think it’s a good thing though.”

“Excuse me?” Kento blinks.

“Well, Gojo-kun starting.” Nitta says, all smiles. As if the constant headaches Kento is suffering are somehow a good thing. “He really brightens the place up!”

“You mean he disturbs our work,” Kento says slowly. He doesn’t see any benefit to that: Gojo is, as was once again underscored this morning, argumentative and stubborn. He’s opinionated and lacks the social grace to understand it’s not his place. It makes work more difficult for Kento in trying to explain how things work around here when he is constantly met with ‘no, but what if—’. It’s exhausting. It steals time away from other projects for no real benefit other than to make him inch closer to the resolution that Naobito wants: for him to quit.

Not to speak of the Teams messages. What if IT reads them? Fuck.

“He’s got the energy to change things around, don’t you think?” No, Kento doesn’t think so. Kento wishes for things to remain exactly as they are so he can do his work with as little effort as possible and go home to his cooking and his books. “Besides,” Nitta gives him that same smile again. Conspirational. It makes him shiver. “You’ve been looking so lifeless lately until Gojo-kun came along.”

Electricity whips through Kento’s spine. “Nitta-kun, that’s not—”

“How’s the sandwich?”

Kento almost jumps out of his chair with how close Gojo suddenly appeared: it’s like he teleported just so he could whisper in Kento’s ear. It’s creepy. “What the fuck.”

“Oh you can curse too, huh, Nanami-san?” Gojo laughs. “That’s kind of hot.”

Kento pushes his chair back to create distance between them. His heart is pounding and he’s too aware of how closely Nitta is watching the pair of them, when he’s never held such an interest in Kento before. It feels too invasive even though this is just a sandwich and Gojo isn’t doing anything inappropriate. Yet.

It’s the yet that has him get up from the desk, grab his sandwich and walk out the door. When Gojo keeps standing there, dumbfounded, Kento says, “Come.”

Like a puppy, he follows, bounding up to Kento’s side and smiling brightly. “Does that mean you forgive me?”

Kento ignores that. Instead he makes his way down to the lift and says nothing until they are all the way outside, away from prying eyes and those who could overhear them. He directs Gojo to a bench and once again, he obediently sits down, looking up at Kento expectantly. Kento sighs, if only he were so easy to direct during his tireless work instructions. Once he’s sat down, Kento finally feels like he has a semblance of control, having the height advantage. It’s difficult to be an authority when the kid you’re mentoring is half a head taller than you.

“The sandwich.” Kento says plainly. “How did you know?”

“What do you mean?” Gojo replies innocently.

“Gojo-kun.”

“Well you never appear to eat lunch with anyone, so I got bored the other day.” Kento can already tell where this is going. “I noticed you going across the street and grabbing a sandwich there. You also just decided to stay there, people-watching I guess.” Gojo smiles at him. “You looked happier there than in the office.”

You’ve been looking so lifeless until Gojo-kun came along.

He shakes it off. “So you stalked me?”

“Well I wouldn’t call it stalking. Call it having an interest in my favourite person.”

This is starting to feel embarrassing.

Kento can't deny that he’s serious. It was easy at first: to pretend that Gojo was simply messing around, having fun at Kento’s expense, but if this was then he’s going through a lot of effort for a mere joke. It’s the coffee in the morning, prepared the way he likes it, from the café next door with the barista who runs it by herself. Then there’s the sandwich in his hands. It isn’t Kento’s favourite, but it is a close second, and that means Gojo even guessed correctly what he’d enjoy. He’s serious, but Kento just doesn’t understand.

He decides he needs to nip this in the bud. “Do you remember our conversation from this morning?”

“Well yeah but—”

“No. I don’t want another excuse.” Kento has to stand firm. “I need you to respect the office environment before other people start taking notice. I need you to delete the Teams messages before IT sees.”

“I honestly doubt that IT cares.”

“They can and will check these chats. I’d rather not have to explain your behaviour to HR.”

He doesn’t want to get Gojo in trouble. He’s young, he’s ignorant of appropriate workplace behaviour, but he doesn’t need to be punished for either of those two things. As infuriating as he can be, he has been interested in learning the ropes of the company, even if he wants to do it differently.

Kento would just rather not deal with his antics.

“Relax.” Gojo pats the bench next to him, guileless as ever. “I’m friends with the IT-guy, he doesn’t care.”

“You told him?”

Told him what exactly? Gojo’s strange obsession with an older man? The strange harassment? Kento hasn’t been at the servicedesk in over five years and he has no idea who mans the station now.

“Well.” Gojo says grandly and he pulls Kento’s wrist again for him to sit down, possessing a strength that startles Kento into following his lead. He then gets out his phone and holds it up to Kento, a blank contact info page blinking at him. “You could also just give me your number, so everything I say to you is off the record.”

Of course he tries again. It doesn’t matter how many times Kento tells him not to, he’s like a child that keeps asking why.

“Is that your scheme? I could report you for sexual harrassment.”

“Aw Nanami-san, don't be like that.” Gojo laughs. “You only just forgave me.”

“I never said I forgave you.”

“Well you’ve accepted my sandwich offering anyway and that’s good enough for me.”

Kento has decided to give up for the day. He bites into the sandwich and it is the one good moment of his day: it’s delicious. Crunchy karaage chicken and lettuce with sriracha mayonnaise. It makes him regret not picking it more often. Kento’s a creature of habit and has a tendency to just choose what is most convenient and he likes best.

“Good, huh?” Gojo’s face is smug. “One day I’ll make you look at me like that.”

Kento swallows a mouthful of sandwich before he chokes on it. “Like what?”

“Like you’re actually happy.”

This is the second time someone has called him miserable to his face today. This is the only time where it stings. “I’m happy.”

“No, you’re not.” Gojo tells him but it’s without heat or accusation. “You’re just going through the motions because you don’t expect anything better. The only reason you’re against Naoya’s dad is because you don’t want to uproot your life, but you could easily find another, better job.” He pointedly stares at Kento’s wedding ring and Kento resists the urge to hide it beneath the sandwich wrapper. “You’re not married anymore, are you?”

Kento flushes red. It’s anger this time, not embarrassment. “That’s none of your business.”

Does he know? Has he asked that too?

It would be too much if Gojo knew about the biggest humiliation of all: the failure of his marriage, his duties as a husband, how he hadn’t known. How stupid he’d felt, how stupid he still feels whenever he thinks about it, because how could he have not known? It’s not as if it was the first time someone cheated on him, so why would he have missed the signs? Nothing has felt the same after that.

“You never talk about a wife.” Gojo says. His voice is neutral, not a drop of pity or derision in there, and it is the normality with which he speaks that ceases Kento’s heart to pulse right inside of his throat. “I just guessed, Nanami-san.”

And you confirmed it, goes unsaid.

“How observant of you.” Kento snips at him. “Any more personal details about my life you want to share with me?”

“Does it bother you to be seen?” Gojo asks and he’s sitting too close, his thigh pressing heat into Kento’s and it’s already such a warm day today. Summer has never been his favourite period. Perhaps that’s why his face feels so warm, why his pulse jumps. Or perhaps, Gojo’s right and Kento hates him for it. “Do you hate it when people take an interest in you? I like you, Nanami-san. There’s nothing wrong with getting to know your likes and dislikes.”

“What if I dislike that?” Kento bites back. His sandwich has already finished and Kento hates how trying something new was better than the option he has chosen so many times before out of convenience. “I don’t know you like that. You’re about twenty years younger than me and a brat besides.”

Gojo is not deterred. “But I want to know you like that. I told you that already.”

He doesn’t respond to the age gap, of course he doesn’t. He doesn’t even realise what it means for an old man like Kento to be seen with a boy his age, the amount of gossip it would start even outside of the office, even if they weren’t two men, two coworkers, a mentor and mentee. There is not a single strand of Kento’s DNA that would ever consider it. It’s ludicrous. There is no baseline for them to get to know each other on anything more than a superficial level because Kento isn’t a creep.

“No,” is all that he can muster up.

“Why?” Gojo challenges. “Don’t give me some stupid reason like how I’m younger than you and I’m your mentee, because you already told me that and I don’t care. The former is laughably stupid and the latter I already promised I’d be careful with. So what’s your objection this time?”

“I’m not a creepy old man, Gojo-kun.”

“Why would you be creepy? I’m pursuing you. I’m interested in you.”

“Why?” Kento counters sharply. “Because I’m hot?”

Even saying it out loud feels ludicrous. Kento isn’t hot, isn’t attractive in that sense. It’s why he couldn’t even blame his ex for cheating on him. He can’t fathom a boy like Gojo, looking the way he does, treating this as anything more than a mockery. But Friday, loathe as he is to admit it, showed differently. Felt differently.

Which is why he has to protect both of them from here on out. He can’t be made out to be a laughing stock being seduced by a twenty-one-year-old.

“Sure, because you’re hot.” His eyes flash and the heat of his words bleeds through Kento’s skin. It is the first time Kento has heard him sound so annoyed and includes the brawl with Utahime. “Even though I know you don’t believe me, just so you can throw it in my face. I’ll have you know I have immaculate taste, but whatever. It’s not just because you’re hot, Nanami-san. It’s because I want to get to know you beyond being hot.”

Kento is unable to give a proper response. None of this has ever happened to him before and so he doesn’t have experience to rely on, a gentle rebuke or a soft rejection. It takes a moment to realise that he’s feeling clammy because he’s embarrassed, not because he’s feeling irritated or disgusted. He crumples up the sandwich wrapping because he doesn’t know what to do with his hands and he tries to come up with a response that doesn’t feel woefully inadequate. But just as he opens his mouth, Gojo beats him to it.

“All I ask, Nanami-san, is that you simply let me get to know you. I’m not even asking for a chance, just don’t stop my every attempt to be nice to you.” He says and his voice is gentler this time. He takes the wrapping out of Kento’s hands and pushes it into his pocket to throw away later. “You do deserve someone being nice to you. Not everyone is like Zenin Naobito, I know that other people like you too.”

Kento feels stripped down to his core. It’s as uncomfortable as the heat pricking his neck.

Gojo gets up and he holds out a hand for Nanami to grab. He doesn’t even think about it when he takes it, trying to settle the embarrassment at being caught out by a boy twenty years his junior, when Gojo says;

“So when were you gonna tell me it’s your birthday tomorrow?”

∞

He has conceded his phone number. At first it had felt like a small humiliation all on its own, but that ended when Gojo beamed at him. He had insisted he wanted the number so he could at least wish him a happy birthday and had sounded so serious about it that Kento, who hasn’t been able to come up with any good excuse so far, hadn’t been able to deny him. It’s ridiculous. He doesn’t really celebrate his birthday and it’s on a Tuesday besides. Forty-six is the number he’s given Gojo when he asked, casually, in the lift how old he was getting.

Maybe he’d said it on purpose: just to make him realise the gravity of his youthful mistakes.

Gojo had only laughed. “Aging like a fine wine.”

Kento’s neck was still feeling heated when he finally entered their office and it had nothing to do with the heat from outside.

He actually manages to get a decent amount of work done by the time Utahime appears in his office again and Kento sighs and privately says goodbye to an early end of his day.

“I’m just wondering,” she starts, fury bleeding through her tone. “Why a finance head is telling Gojo it’s my job to write?”

Kento blinks at her. “Excuse me?”

“Tell me why Gojo is telling me that it’s my job to write ads and not his.”

Outside of the very passionate speech outside of their office, Gojo still appears to be Gojo. Which of his words has he misconstrued this time to his own benefit? It takes him a moment to collect his thoughts as she stands there tapping her foot impatiently. It finally dawns on him.

“Is this about some new ads?”

He had finally read up on the other Teams messages and none were so incriminating as the ones that went before it. Gojo had mentioned that he was finally going to run some ads now that he had gained access to several platforms.

“Obviously.”

“I told him that it would be rude not to inform you if he was going to write ads himself.”

Utahime visibly deflates. “Oh.”

“I apologise for his single-track mind and his lack of reading comprehension.”

In the few hours since lunch, Kento had told him explicitly that because Utahime had been there for longer than he had been, that writing ads was her job, and it would be rude to assume that he could do a better job. He had told him to ask Utahime politely if he could try his hand at the ads himself without overstepping.

Seems that this backfired.

He sighs. “Tell Gojo-kun to come to my office.”

That seems to appease her. “Sure. Thank you, Nanami-san.” She bows awkwardly, no doubt feeling the embarrassment of accusing her senior without proper evidence. She makes herself scarce soon after.

Nitta lets out a snicker. “See, I told you the office has become livelier since Gojo-kun joined the team.”

Kento sighs deeply. “If this is your form of entertainment, Nitta-kun, then I am questioning your sense of judgement.”

It takes Gojo a good fifteen minutes to show up and by the time he does, Kento’s patience has been worn thinner. It’s thirty minutes to five and perhaps Gojo knows that because he grins at Kento sheepishly. “You called?”

Kento doesn’t mean to scold him in front of Nitta, so he nods for him to leave. Nitta, though clearly disappointed, gets up from his desk and leaves the room to get coffee, the door gently closed after him.

“You know very well what you did, so I would like to offer you a chance to explain.” Kento says patiently. “I have already heard one side of the story and I know very well what I told you over chat. I believe you have misconstrued my words on purpose so I want to understand why.”

I thought you’d be responsible is something he will reserve for later.

Gojo has the grace to look embarrassed. “I didn’t think she’d end up going to you.”

“Clearly.” Kento says. His gaze doesn’t stray and remains firmly affixed on Gojo’s face. It’s immensely satisfying to watch him squirm beneath it and it might even be worth going home later for. The question is, why? Gojo has discarded his instructions before. Kento has absolutely scolded him before, but it hadn’t triggered the nervous reaction he sees playing out before him.

Curious.

“Well I wanted to create the ads myself, like you said, but Utahime immediately started meddling—”

“What is the other thing I had told you?” Kento asks patiently.

“Well—”

“I believe I told you that you had to tell her before doing it. I also think it wouldn’t be unwise to let her check the work after you were done, after all she’s the content person and you’re—”

“A growth marketer.”

“—Doing ads.” Kento finishes. “Twisting my words to fire back at her reflects poorly on me. This is why I tried to tell you this morning that you can’t just throw out the entire QA-process because doing so will get back to Zenin Naobito-san and have consequences for me. Do you understand?”

Gojo visibly swallows. “Yes, Nanami-san.”

“Will you follow my instructions from now on?”

“I’ll try. At least like— to not embarrass you. But if I can change the process without it reflecting poorly on you, then I definitely will.”

Kento sighs. “I suppose that’s as much as I am going to get out of you. Don’t do it again.”

To no one’s surprise, Gojo isn’t leaving. He comes closer and places both hands on Kento’s desk, leaning in until Kento catches a whiff of his cologne. It’s aquatic, fresh, like calling him to shore and Kento slaps himself mentally for making note of it. All it says is that Gojo is too close, but Kento does not want to relinquish his space by moving away.

“What are you doing after work tomorrow?”

That comes wholly unexpected. “Don’t tell me you made Utahime angry just to ask me that question.”

“No, no. I could have asked you over text, remember.” How could Kento forget. “This is just me making the most out of the situation.”

“It’s a Tuesday, I’m not doing anything.”

As soon as he’s said it, he realises that it’s a mistake when Gojo starts grinning at him. Kento should have known better than to indulge him, but it is too late to take it back now.

“So let me take you out.” Gojo says brightly. “It’ll be fun.”

Nitta can return at any moment. “You’d promised that you wouldn’t do this at work.”

Great, now it sounds even more illicit than usual. Gojo cackles. “You’re right, I did promise. But can I just mention that it sounded way more inappropriate when you say it like that?”

He finally steps away from the desk and winks at Kento. “I’ll text you then.”

“You can, but I can’t promise anything.”

“Oh trust me, Nanami-san. I’m not taking no for an answer.”

Fuck.

Notes:

Call it intuition or experience, but I have a feeling this fic will end up being longer than five chapters. In classic me-style, obviously.
You've all been lovely so far! ♡ I promise Nanami will get railed soon.