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❝I'm a virgin.❞
❝I can tell.❞
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a/n: hi pookie dookies!! ive been wanting to write choso for a while!! this is a one shot I split into two chapters bc its like, 11k words.... but! if u guys request it, I might add more chapters!!! thank u for ur support as always, muah muah!! (comment plz, they keep me going)
cw: sexual tension, mentions of horny teenagerism, voyeurism
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YUUJI ITADORI WAS truly the best friend a girl like you could ask for. The two of you were kind of like childhood friends, though you hadn't been close for a good portion of it. You didn't remember the exact day Itadori had invited you into his home – though you knew it was some time in elementary school. The two of you had been practically inseparable ever since.
There was one thing about the pinkette's home life in particular that seemed to catch your young eye.
His older brother, Choso.
He was two years your senior – dark hair, dark eyes, he looked nothing like his brother. He had this scar over the bridge of his nose from an accident that had happened when he was younger. He was an elusive figure, something of a mystery to your young mind – he was always there, but never there.
He was content to dwell in the background like some sort of side character.
The first time you'd ever met him had been at one of Itadori's baseball games. He'd invited you to show up – and at this point you had to have been no older than 8 or 9 – and show out for him. And show out you sure did.
You had your mother do your hair up real nice in those cute little pigtails you used to love wearing. You had scribbled his jersey number onto a plain white tee the night before, donning some hot pink leggings beneath.
And you screamed for Itadori, cheered as loud as your little lungs would allow you to. He won, of course, but that's not the point here. You'd gone up to him after the game, wrapping your short arms around his frame – and at the time he was no larger than you were – and telling him he'd done great. Itadori grinned at you, faint blush dusting his cheeks, and thanked you. His smile was a thousand suns in one.
A hand on his shoulder had shaken the two of you out of the moment. A bigger hand.
It was his 11-year-old adoptive brother, Choso Kamo. An angel of the darkness, as corny as that sounds, but in that moment you swore the gates of heaven resided in those dark eyes of his. He stood out against the bright backdrop of the September afternoon. The sunlight filtered through his short black hair, reflected off of his pale skin, shooting rays right into your stomach and sending a horde of butterflies fluttering.
"This your girlfriend, Yuuji?" He commented with a half-grin.
You remember turning red at his comment, waving your arms around wildly. You remember the way his eyes creased as he laughed at you, one of the few times you recall seeing him laugh.
So what if you had heart eyes for your best friend's older brother? It was harmless, just a little crush you had formed on the guy you felt had stolen your heart away. Harmless.
At least, it was until the two of you grew older. You started junior high, you started puberty , and as your body changed, so did his. So did your feelings, morphing from a butterfly crush to something more akin to desire as you began to see him in a different light.
He lost the baby fat around his face. His eyes had darkened, shoulders broadening. His hair got longer, falling into his boyish, scarred face in a way that rendered you entirely breathless.
He was becoming a man.
You were 13 and 15 now, stealing sneaky glances at him whenever he would pass by his brother's room. Yuji, who had just been boasting about how he was starting to get taller than you, would pay it no mind.
It was just a crush. He was two years your senior, after all. You had no chance.
You were 13 when he would poke fun at you and his brother. He was 15 when he would laugh at the way your face would go red. He didn't know that it wasn't his brother you wanted.
14 and 16 when you first began to notice the subtle slope of his shoulders become more pronounced, more defined. When you began to notice the way his muscles would strain against the sleeves of his tee shirt.
He had always been a large guy, having hit quite a few growth spurts along the way. He had to have been about 5'10 at that point, practically towering over you. But lately, you thought he must have been hitting the gym. He would walk past Yuji's open door – and in their house it was a family policy to leave the door open when you came over, even if Yuji was only a brother to you – with gym gear on. He would come back with sweat-slicked hair plastered to his forehead, chest rising and falling steadily.
Something about that made your hormones go wild for him. Inappropriate thoughts began to chew away at you from the inside, images of what he could do to you with such strength, even if you weren't too certain what 'doing' even entailed at that time. The scent of his pheromones, something like that – or maybe it was the way his gym clothes hugged his body while he marched towards the bathroom to take a shower – it made you feral for him.
He was so much bigger than you now. It made your head spin with feelings you didn't quite understand. It was just a crush... so why did you stay awake at night imagining him panting over you, sweat trickling down his bare chest? The way his muscles might ripple under your hesitant, inexperienced touch? The warmth that would bloom over your face when you imagined his lips on yours – this man who you had never gotten close to.
A man who you remembered having a late night conversation with in the kitchen while Yuuji slept right down the hall one night.
He was ransacking the cabinet for snacks when you found him. He relaxed once he'd noticed it was you, the two of you eventually falling into sugar-fueled conversation after he cracked open a pack of double-stuff oreos. A conversation about the taboo , about the things you had been told to keep quiet.
"You don't have to be all flustered 'round me, y'know," He had told you rather softly. The two of you were separated by the kitchen island, but it felt like he was way to close to you. "You can ask me anything you're curious about."
"I'm not curious!" You had whisper-shouted back with a roll of your eyes. "I don't want to know about your sex life, you whore."
"You just asked me what it felt like, liar," He noted, quirking a brow at your outward reaction. He loved to get under your skin. Lived for it. "And for the record, I'm not a whore. Most of the times I've been touched have been with my own hand."
"I've never tried... that, " You mused quietly, head low. Your face burned with the heat of your admission.
He popped an oreo into his mouth, dusting his hands off carelessly. "What, masturbating?"
Your heart did a weak somersault. "Quiet!" You hissed at him. "Now what if Yuuji heard you talking to me like that?"
"Calm your shit," he told you. "You're too young f'me. Relax."
He only chuckled at your words, shaking his head quietly while he resealed the oreos. Still, if he was thinking anything about your reaction, he didn't voice it. You were glad.
But it hurt. It hurt, hearing him talk about you like you didn't have a chance. Like none of the effort you put into your appearance around him had any effect on him because you were too young to steal his attention away. None of it mattered – the push up bras, the low cut tanks, the cherry lip balm.
In his eyes, you were only a kid.
"I'm a virgin," you had blurted out, for some odd reason you still didn't quite understand.
The pause that befell the two of you was one that you remembered years later.
"I can tell," He had said, slim waist swinging side to side as he walked around the kitchen island, towards the exit behind you. He sauntered over to you with a smirk on his face and a plate in his hand, dark hair pulled back into a bun while his layers fell around his face. He was breathtaking, handsome, tantalizing build towering over you.
16, A man whose voice had dropped again in the last few months whispered those words, the ones you would never forget, "'S fun. You should try it."
You didn't know what he had wanted you to try – having sex or performing it on yourself.
Either way, that night when you went home was the first time you ever tried to touch yourself. Fantasized about him whispering in your ear, holding you down, talking you through – while your pink-manicured fingers worked you up to your first orgasm.
Two years had never felt so far apart.
Choso had a girlfriend at one point. It was only for, like, four months – he was 17, you were 15. You only found this out when he'd come home after a pretty rough night with her. He looked pissed, lips pressed into a thin line, arms crossed over his broad chest.
You knew he was too old for you, that you weren't old enough for him, more specifically – but, still, you batted those lashes of yours up at him while you asked him what was wrong.
You didn't tell him about the way butterflies erupted in your stomach like a hundred angry guisers when he told you his girlfriend had cheated, left him for another man.
You hugged him instead, telling him that it would be alright, telling him that she never deserved him anyway. You were the one for him, and one day he would see that.
Instead of turning to you – who had been right there all along, he had just been too blind to notice – he took his anger out on everyone else. He became cold, emotionally closed off. He became a serial heartbreaker.
For a while, whenever you came over to Yuuji's, his bedroom would be vacant. Open, dark, just as he had left it. For a while, he would spend his nights with faceless hookups and meaningless dates. Itadori would call you to complain about it, about how "we're home alone for dinner tonight and Choso just walked out".
Your heart broke, too. He just didn't know it.
H̶e̶ ̶d̶i̶d̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶k̶n̶o̶w̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ ̶w̶e̶r̶e̶ ̶w̶a̶i̶t̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶f̶o̶r̶ ̶h̶i̶m̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶c̶o̶m̶e̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶s̶e̶n̶s̶e̶s̶,̶ ̶f̶o̶r̶ ̶h̶i̶m̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶s̶e̶e̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ ̶a̶s̶ ̶a̶ ̶w̶o̶m̶a̶n̶.
You were seated in the kitchen across from Itadori enjoying another late-night snack, sharing some hearty laughter. You had always adored your conversations with him, the 'After-Hours' talks, as you would often refer to them.
Your night had taken an unexpected turn when Itadori's brother burst through the kitchen door with a giggling girl in tow. The late hour suggested that this was no ordinary visit.
Still, even though you couldn't pry your eyes away from her, you didn't say anything. You stayed quiet while your heart shattered into one hundred million pieces inside of your tight chest.
Itadori's laughter had died down, giving way to an awkward silence. He greeted his brother with a smile, "Hey, bro. Who's she?"
Choso shrugged, dark hair shifting over his eyes that seemed to glint beneath the dim lighting as he replied, "Company."
His mischievous tone and the girl at his side left little to the imagination. Your cheeks flushed as you exchanged another quick glance with Itadori.
You felt frozen in place. You couldn't move. No, all you could do was sit there like a dumbass and stare at him, watch the man you loved liked guide her by her hand up the stairs.
Of course. You had been naive to think that he would wait for you. He would be 18 next year.
He was out of your league.
Feeling the need for a momentary escape, you had excused yourself, muttering something about needing to use the bathroom. You had stood up, heart racing, and made your way up the stairs and towards the bathroom.
Conveniently, of course, it was located just down the hall from Choso's room.
You crept down the hall slowly. As you passed by his door, you caught a sound. Something unmistakable – two people in hushed conversation uttering words in between kisses.
"Choso, baby."
Another quiet kiss. Their lips separated.
"I'm ready."
"You brought protection?"
Your embarrassment grew as you realized the intimate nature of the encounter happening on the other side of the door. Quickly, you averted your gaze, face burning, and ran off to the bathroom.
It took you a moment to catch your breath. You couldn't believe the awkwardness of the whole situation. Shit, you didn't even know how to approach him after this.
Worst of all, you didn't even know why you were still only able to imagine it was your voice behind that door instead of hers. That it was him pressing butterfly kisses to your lips. Him asking you if you were ready for him.
With your cheeks tinged a rosey hue, you resolved to keep yourself locked away in the bathroom until the thoughts subsided.
It seemed like it was a new girl every time you came to visit. A blonde, a brunette – he didn't seem to have a preference. Every time you would watch him walk another girl to the front door, bidding her safe travels on her way home, your hope would wither away.
But the feelings never subsided. No, even when you would spend a little more time walking past his room on your way to the bathroom to eavesdrop. Not even when you would hear hushed whispers and quiet moans from the other side and imagine what kind of lover Choso would be. Would he leave marks? Talk dirty to you? Was he a giver or a taker?
Not even when the two of you would cross paths in the kitchen after his plans for the evening went home. He would turn to you with a knowing smirk, hair down and messy even though it did nothing to hide the red and purple love bites that littered the valley of his neck.
And he looked so good that you often found yourself wishing it was you who had left those marks.
It was as if he knew you were dying inside. Like something was beginning to change inside of him after all of these years. Like he took some strangely cruel pleasure in showing off to you.
No, you would have to remind yourself in vain. I'm too young for him.
You were just a girl in his eyes. That's what you maintained.
So you went out and retaliated by losing your V-card to some kid from your class. Well, in your head it was retaliation. He was none the wiser about it, but it gave you a sense of satisfaction knowing you were able to fuck people who weren't him.
Take that, Choso.
Yuji groaned, laying spread eagle over his carpeted floor, arms spread out on either side of him. He had grown so much – you could hardly contain the way your eyes wandered from his pretty face to his new physique. Like his brother, Itadori was a well-defined man.
God picked favorites, and it wasn't you.
There was an open notebook splayed over his face. He gripped the spine, tossing it to the side.
"I'm over this chemistry shit," He sighed.
You couldn't possibly have agreed more. Still, you continued to sketch the rough outline of a circle onto the sheet of construction paper in your hand. You would need to make it perfect, just right, so that you would be able to incorporate it into your group project.
You turned the pencil over between your fingertips. "We're gonna need more supplies."
"Like what?" Yuuji asked, his frustration still evident. "I'm pretty sure we've purchased, like... every craft supply on the market."
You quirked a brow at the thought. "Scissors...?"
Yuuji pursed his lips, his brow furrowing. "I don't have those."
"Of course you don't," you sighed, shaking your head. "Who the hell doesn't have scissors?"
"I lent them to Choso," he retorted with a hint of annoyance.
Your heart dropped at the mention of Choso. You couldn't help but picture his face, his body, and wondered if he was asleep. You didn't want to disturb him.
Yuuji sat up, nudging you with his foot playfully. "Hey, why don't you go over there and get them? Make some goo-goo eyes, bat your lashes. I'm sure he wouldn't say no to you."
You hesitated for a moment, considering your options. "I'm sure I can find some in my backpack," you said instead, trying to avoid the suggestion.
"Come onnnn, you know you wanna go over there," Yuuji teased with a sly grin. He leaned in closer, cupping his hand around his mouth, and whispered, " He just got back from the gym. "
Another nudge from Yuuji finally made you relent. "Fine," you said with a playful roll of your eyes. "I'll be back."
Only moments later, you found yourself standing in front of Choso's door, a mix of anticipation and nervousness coursing through you as you raised your hand up to knock. You rapped twice against the wooden surface. There was a shuffling sound on the other side of the world, one that made your heartrate pick up, and then the door cracked open.
He had one earbud in his ear, the other dangling over his chest. He wore a black wife pleaser and some grey sweats that hung loose over his hips – leaving little to the imagination. He looked so strong, muscular arm braced against the doorframe while the other held it open. His waist was thin, toned, so much so that you could see it through the fabric of his shirt.
He smelled like he had just hopped out of the shower – like cherry and musk. His wet hair was done back into a messy bun. His eyes raked over your trembling form.
With a gentle, familiar grin, he said, "What's up?"
Your throat felt dry. You swallowed anyway, with a great deal of discomfort, averting your wide-eyed gaze. Ignoring the way your eyes lingered over the pale skin of his toned navel revealed where his tank had ridden up, over the v line that dipped down into his waistband, over the neatly trimmed trail that led down south .
"Do... Do you have scissors?" You asked him. You didn't like how timid you sounded, or the way your stomach churned at the sight of him.
He paused for a moment, and somehow you knew he was looking at you. You were suddenly very glad you had worn a fitted v-neck tee shirt today, one that would have provided him with a bird's eye view of your cleavage.
He's looking at me.
"Yeah," he muttered quietly, stepping away from the door and into his room. You had only wandered into Choso's quarters a few times with Yuuji, usually to steal something from him while he wasn't home. You had never really taken the time to notice the band posters taped up over his walls, the black sheets on his bed, the clothes scattered over his floor in typical teenage boy fashion.
You poked your head in, taking a quick look around while his muscular back was turned. Ultimately, it was him you wound up gawking at, hungry eyes following the well-defined curve of his back into his slim waist, the curve of his bubble butt.
You looked away just as he had turned around. If he noticed you staring, he didn't say anything. A red pair of scissors dangled from his curled finger.
"Here," was all he said, offering the tool to you.
You didn't know when conversations between the two of you had gotten to be so tense, so strained. It used to come effortlessly. These days, however, it seemed as if you were always trying to run away from conversation with him.
You took it from him gently, dying a bit more inside when his large fingers brushed against yours, offering a slight nod in return. "Thanks."
16 and 18, now.
You had texted Choso asking for his help on a particularly difficult math assignment. He was older, after all, you didn't doubt that he was better equipped to complete the homework than you were.
That was the first time you had ever hung out alone with him. Without Itadori.
You would never forget the way the atmosphere changed when he sat close to you at the kitchen table. The way your skin prickled with electricity beneath his hesitant touch. He poked fun at you and your incompetence. You didn't even care, not when he was sitting so close to you.
Alone.
The possibilities that filled your mind were less than holy.
Tensions were at an all time high. He had leaned over to help you, breath ghosting over the shell of your ear, when it finally snapped.
When you met his gaze with uncertainty in your eyes, making no real effort to put any distance between you and the man you had been pining after for so many years. In that moment, you saw it – saw him, saw that he finally looked at you as something more than just a girl.
Saw the way his gaze softened as he leaned into you. You let him get closer, close enough that his nose brushed against the tip of yours.
"We shouldn't be doing this," You remarked, even though you ached to be trapped in this moment with him a while longer.
He licked his lips, murmuring, "You're probably right."
Nothing compared to the delicate brush of his lips against yours as the two of you finally met in the middle, The way fireworks blew up in your gut. The way he cradled your cheek gently in the palm of his hand, crossing that unspoken boundary that the two of you had been toeing for so long.
Though you had made out with a few guys before, in your eyes, you had shared your first kiss with Choso in the kitchen that night. The first of many to come .
The summer between 16 and 17 was spent sharing secret moments with him behind doors, between appearances.
You sat on the couch next to Itadori, trapped in the second installment of a film series the two of you had been watching yesterday. You were wearing a zip-up hoodie over your school uniform.
You had come over to do homework. Just like yesterday, though, you wound up fucking around.
Itadori was far too engrossed in whatever was happening on screen to notice his brother leaving the kitchen just a few feet off to the side. He looked you up and down, dark eyes reaching into your soul and picking you apart at the seams. With a barely noticeable motion, he nodded towards the stairs.
You nodded back, heart thrumming wildly in your chest.
Choso gripped the meat of your ass in his hands, throwing your legs around his waist while his mouth danced against yours. You tossed your arms around his shoulders, head reeling from how effortlessly he had picked you up. He walked the two of you backwards until your back hit the door.
He continued to ravage you against that surface, too, tongue slipping in between your lips and exploring your mouth. You trembled against him, trying your best to keep up with him.
It felt so good – being pressed up against him, being given his attention. You wished it was more than secret kisses here and there, of course, but you would take what you could get.
"Missed you," he hummed against your lips.
You didn't even care if that was the line he used on all of the other girls. In that moment, all that mattered was his lips against yours, his hands on you, his attention.
You snaked your hands up the back of his neck and into his hair, twisting some of the dark strands between your fingertips. "I should really get back soon," You gasped, relishing in the way his kisses felt up and down your neck.
He relented, letting you down. You pressed one more chaste kiss to his lips.
"Didn't mean to keep 'ya," he chuckled lowly, breaths still heavy from the makeout session you had been having only seconds before. He nodded towards the door behind you. "Get back out there."
You nodded wordlessly, opening the door. With one final smile, you slipped behind it. You felt like you were floating as your legs carried you down the stairs and into the living room. You didn't even care how disheveled you looked.
Thankfully, Yuuji didn't notice the way you were wiping your mouth on the back of your hand as you plopped onto the couch beside him. He also didn't notice when his brother wandered down the stairs a few minutes later, or the way he smiled knowingly at you before disappearing into the kitchen.
You were 17 when Choso left for college. He was 19 when his brother had thrown him a going-away party.
There were 10 of you in the living room, a few of Yuuji and his childhood friends all gathered around the coffee table. A movie was on. Some of them were engrossed in a card game in the corner of the room.
You and Choso lingered behind the group, situated comfortably on the couch behind all of the action. He was sitting so close that your thighs brushed against his, so close that it felt like he, too, wanted to savor the moment before interacting with you became a rarity. Before he moved out and started a new life somewhere hours away.
He didn't voice any of these feelings, keeping his dark eyes unreadable and steady on the movie that Yuji had put on in the background. Selena Gomez was playing from a speaker somewhere behind the couch.
You almost wanted to lean your head on his shoulder. Almost. Never mind the fact that everyone would see it.
You distinctly remember the way he shifted closer to you when you pulled out a blanket. You let him make the bold move, seemingly unfazed by the potential audience only feet away from the two of you.
He tossed the plush blanket over his legs. The lights were dim. Dim enough that they wouldn't see the way your face flushed at the proximity.
Sixteen minutes passed. You felt like you were going to explode.
Somewhere along the way, though it's all a bit fuzzy now, you remember feeling his hand creep down beneath the blanket to rest on your thigh. You fought to remain composed, even though the darkness undoubtedly shrouded whatever it was that Choso was planning to do.
He lingered over the skin on your thighs left bare by the shorts you had chosen to wear. His finger traced over you, igniting fire in your nerves. Again, you said nothing, letting him go about tracing shapes on your thigh while his face remained stoic and composed.
You glanced between him and the blanket. You couldn't see the imprint of his hand moving, somehow, but you could practically feel the heat radiating from beneath it when his index finger slipped between your thighs.
19 years old. Two years had never seemed so far apart. When he was the age you were now, you recalled his voice being quite a few pitches higher. The same voice that had dropped even lower over the last year, now drawing you closer to him as he murmured into your ear, "Can I touch you?"
Parting your legs infinitesimally, you wordlessly granted him entrance. His fingers dipped down, ghosting over your cotton panties in a way that had you wondering how well of a disguise the dim lighting really was.
"What if they see us?" You had whispered back, even quieter. None of them had bothered to turn back. Even still, you wondered if one of them had X-Ray vision.
His voice seemed even deeper as it vibrated against your side. "You'll be quiet for me, won't you?"
The moment his fingers dipped beneath the waistband of your panties, you knew you were in no position to disagree.
Yuuji and his friends were none the more wiser. Yuji didn't notice when you whined quietly, letting him slip two fingers into your aching cunt, or when his brother worked you open on his fingers.
He didn't notice when the two of you had left to make out heatedly in the pantry, right against the box of assorted chips, right where anyone could walk in, turn on the light, and see you there pressed up against him. When you disappeared to the pantry for ten minutes.
Though the moment you returned to see him glancing at you with a curious brow raised, you knew he had finally caught on. Even if he didn't say anything about it.
It would be another three months before you would see Choso again.
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a/n: hi! teehee