Three Years – Chapter Two

She knew she had been living too long with Gojo when her first response to overwhelming anxiety was to grab him between the legs.

Gojo jumped in the driver’s seat, so stunned that he hiccupped. Before he could utter one word, she climbed over the central console and straddled him.

It was five-thirty in the morning, and the basement parking lot was empty except for them. Their car was facing the elevators, but she wasn’t that worried about getting caught. All of his cars were heavily tinted, and as long as they weren’t too rowdy, there shouldn’t be any problem.

Inside the car, the heater hummed along with the engine, their monotonous rhythm providing them with a comforting ambient noise for their recreation.

Utahime undid the belt of her red coat and shrugged it off. The oversized lapel slapped Gojo across the face in the process, but he barely noticed in the heat of the moment.

Gojo slid down his seat and helped her move their coats out of the way. “I love the boldness, but I swear, every time you do this, it’s because you’re on the verge of a breakdown.”

Utahime rolled her eyes. She didn’t want to talk about it. For the first time in their relationship, she would rather have sex than use words to process her emotions. To silence him, she unzipped his pants, gathered her skirt around her waist with both hands, and lowered herself on him. She began to move.

Gojo stifled a groan and let his head fall back.

Matters progressed.

“Fuck.” Gojo watched her through hooded eyes. From beneath the collar of his shirt rose a worrying redness. Soon, he was red to his ears and pushing up her sweater.

“Okay, before my mouth gets preoccupied, I want to be the responsible adult and ask what’s wrong.” But he was already cupping her breasts, his thumbs rubbing against the laced fabric with impatience.

“Can’t a girl be horny?”

“Not when you’re wearing that skirt.”

Utahime, flushed and panting mildly, slowed down. “What?”

“That’s your favorite skirt.” He transferred his hands from her breasts to her neck. His touch was tender, as though checking for a fever. “I didn’t think you’d want to do a quickie while wearing it because, you know, it might get stained. Unless, of course, you’ve grown tired of it, and you don’t mind going back up to the apartment to change.” When she stopped completely and still hadn’t said a word, he panicked and added: “You said you were proud of your outfit. Okay, you’re mad now. Let’s just keep going.”

He reclined his chair and adjusted his hips, his gaze fixed on the ceiling to avoid hers.

Utahime raised herself off his lap. She fixed her underwear and dropped back to her seat.

Gojo put himself back in and turned to face her. “Hey.”

She shook her head. “I’m not angry.”

“Then you’re grumpy.” He patted his lap. “Let’s just get on with it. I’m going to shut up this time, I swear.”

“I didn’t think you noticed.” She fixed the pleats of her long skirt. For some reason, this small observation made her blush harder than rubbing against him did. “You didn’t even compliment the way I looked before we went down.”

“You didn’t ask.”

“I modelled it for you twice.”

“I thought you were pacing.”

She slumped on her seat. “Ugh! You can be so hopeless sometimes.”

“You didn’t compliment the way I looked either.”

“You’re wearing a crew neck shirt and an expensive pair of dress pants.”

He motioned to his clothes. “Granted, everything looks good on me, but I still made the effort for the occasion. I swear, Utahime, you’re so desensitized to my charm that you don’t notice it anymore.”

Utahime hid her face in her hands and took several deep breaths. She wanted beer. Perhaps if they did a quickie and he stained her skirt, he’d let her return to the apartment, and she could take a quick sip.

Only Gojo had the nose of a bloodhound. He’d smell it on her at once.

He brushed her hair back to see her face. “Babe?”

She didn’t answer.

Clearing his throat, he screamed: “Babe!”

She slapped his arm. “Don’t yell at me!”

“Come here.” He grabbed her by the back of her head and leaned over the center console to kiss her.

She resisted at first, but his firm grip had a way of melting her insides. That was the thing with Gojo. He had self-control at the most important moments, even when he was half-hard in his pants. He brushed her hair back and let her mouth go to scatter kisses along her cheeks, which always tickled her.

“So, what’s up?” He planted another soft kiss on her lips. “Don’t tell me you’re actually nervous about telling Kazuo.”

She laced her arms around his neck. The band of her engagement ring caught a glimmer of light and revived the butterflies in her stomach. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s normal? Maybe I’m overthinking things.”

“Like what?”

“Where do I even start? There’s my binding vow with Gakuganji, and the fact that our relationship is one big secret to the rest of the world. Then there’s the tamed curses and the Sasaki-”

“Utahime,” he said sharply, cutting her short. “I mean this lovingly. Shut up.”

“You asked!”

“Our situation is not ideal, but I think that’s more reason for us to try to be happy. After the holidays, you’ll go back to moonlighting as Gakuganji’s Pokemon catcher, and I’ll be busy being the best sensei Jujutsu High has ever seen.”

She pinched his cheek. “Don’t call me a Pokemon catcher.”

“Why not?” He chuckled as he endured the pinching. “Gotta catch ‘em all, right?”

Utahime pursed her lips, but soon the laughter bubbling in her throat became too much, and she gave in. She laughed to the point of tears, and the only reason she stopped was because she noticed Gojo was peering into her bra like a hypnotized man.

She smacked him in the temple. “Seriously, Satoru! Stop ogling as if I’ll grow a third breast.”

He pushed her sweater further up her chest to get a better view. “None, so far. Is it in your genes?”

“You’re such a freak!”

They wrestled and laughed in the car until they had exhausted her anxieties. If not for Kazuo’s text message reminding them not to be late, they would’ve forgotten about their appointment with him and just stayed there, cozying up to each other as though this was their first time.

Author’s Note: As you may have noticed reading First Cut, I’m not exactly a fan of writing smut. I don’t mind intimate scenes, but I find it more fun to use them as a means to explore their relationship and the realistic intricacies of sex in the context of a relationship like theirs. Utahime’s coat lapel slapping Gojo across the face has been in my mind for so long, and I find the imagery so satisfying that I just had to include it.

Kazuo and Shoko in the next chapter! If you like this, leave a thumbs up or a heart in the comments, or join us in gushing about Gojohime in long-form <3