Chapter 9

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It's almost midnight. Gojo and Geto return to their shared apartment somewhere in the heart of Tokyo, Japan.

"You're a real ass." Geto plops himself down on the couch. The man removes his tie and throws it off to the side somewhere before he sprawls out, "You know that?"

Gojo closes the door behind him. He kicks off his shoes. The man removes all the clothes that covered his upper body and throws it onto the armchair next to the couch. He doesn't know what the hell Geto is grumbling about, but the white-haired man has a strong feeling it's likely about you. Gojo doesn't care though. He already won this so-called 'race' and he's quite smug about it, "Are you whining?~"

"No one's whining."

Geto sinks into the cushion further. His hands go up to his temples; he massages this area and sighs heavily. He hated having to compete against Gojo. He actually never intended for anything to ever be a competition but the white-haired male always seemed to have the most annoying approach to any situation they were involved in.

"Sounds like whining to me.~" Gojo continues to smirk triumphantly then he throws himself onto the other side of the couch. And then he proceeds to dump his legs into Geto's personal space.

"Why are you like this?" Geto's face crinkles with indignation. Nothing ever seemed fair between the two of them. Although, more than half the time, it was just astounding luck (for Gojo Satoru).

The white-haired man throws his arms behind his head as he relaxes against the armrest. The man's back arches and his bare, robust chest flexes from this long, exaggerated stretch. He then sighs with great satisfaction and his body quickly becomes lazy. Gojo's conceited remarks will likely get on his friend's nerves at some point, "Like what?? Like perfect??"

Gojo's feet encroaching into the long-haired man's face made Geto groan in annoyance. Gojo wants to lay down but Geto was already occupying more than half the couch. Their height doesn't allow for comfort, not for two. Geto shoves Gojo's legs off, "Your arrogance is truly something else."

There's a sound of a thud as the white-haired man's feet hit the wooden floorboards. Gojo doesn't care, he throws it all back on top of his friend, "Are you upset because you lost?"

"Why does everything need to be a contest with you?" Geto no longer attempts to remove Gojo's intruding legs. He knew it would be a waste of his energy. Gojo wasn't someone who enjoyed losing (in any aspect and no matter how insignificant); he's a poor sport in that sense.

"Don't be such a party pooper." Gojo continues to relax and his head presses against his arms as he tries to adjust himself for comfort. He squeezes his eyes shut tightly before they reopen to a heavy droop. The man's tired and completely spent. He had exhausted a lot of his energy when he was 'having' you on the table of the break room. He doesn't understand why Geto Suguru is so upset. 'Sharing' has been a habitual thing between the two of them. And if it weren't for him, Geto wouldn't even be able to reap the benefits that he worked so hard to bestow upon the both of them. Gojo will share you soon enough (even if temporary).

"I had it..." Geto's mind revisits the day with you in the break room. Maybe it was intentional, maybe it wasn't. Regardless, he hated how Gojo, somehow, managed to intervene any of his previous pursuits (and not just with you). He may have also felt a bit envious at how easy these types of things were for the white-haired man.

Gojo is quite the gifted person. He's just naturally talented and charismatic. The white-haired man was always good at everything he was interested in picking up. Gojo Satoru is a very quick learner and he always excelled in an almost flawless way, with anything and everything he did. And, he still continues to do so.

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