Chapter Text
“How couldn’t I find him annoying?” Suguru began, glancing over at the not-so-new transfer student, lounged at one of the high school lunch tables and surrounded by a fucking entourage of all things.
“First, his shades. How pretentious do you have to be to wear sunglasses inside?” he started, beginning to count the reasons on his fingers even as Ieiri raised an eyebrow, chewing another bite of the cafeteria lunch. “He’s unbearably loud, he —”
As if on cue, said person laughed, voice carrying over the full cafeteria somehow, Suguru glaring at him even though it wasn’t like he’d even be able to see him with those shades he wore. Or across the room, Ieiri snickering as she swallowed.
And fuck it, he was allowed a moment of pettiness, wasn’t he? It wasn’t his fault the other kid laughed like a dying bird.
“He’s got to be ruining his hair with bleach and his eyebrows even match! Who does that!” Suguru would sooner be found dead in a coffin than let those chemicals come anywhere near his own hair. “He probably also uses not just 2 in 1 shampoo and conditioner, but probably also 3 in 1 so he won’t even have to wash his body, but just let it trickle down and —”
“I heard he actually smells like lavender,” Ieiri interrupted.
“And you only know because he has an entire following who won’t shut the fuck up about him!” Well, unless Ieiri had taken up the hobby of smelling people, but he highly doubted she’d gamble that with the way most of his class still used spray on deodorant after PE.
He glanced over again, immediately scowling as the kid smiled as a girl asked him a question and why was even that annoying?
“You’re acting like getting a crush is a crime,” Ieiri said, rolling her eyes as she stood, Suguru following her as they returned their lunch trays. “But whatever you say, Professional Bitcher. Or should I promote you to a Knight… Wish I could have recorded you just to show you how stupid you sounded.”
Ieiri knew better than anyone he didn’t bother with crushes, but really? Surely they had more important things than gushing over some fellow student.
“You can wax about Utahime next lunch, fair?” he offered.
For romance being a waste of time, he did enjoy reading sappier books about it, but that was just fantasy and well, reading was productive at least, wasn’t it?
“You know me so well,” she agreed, bumping him on the back and Suguru flipping her off as she walked away, rubbing his shoulder. He should never have taught her how to punch right.
He found himself muttering as he walked to biology class, one of his hands gripping the strap to his book bag slung over his shoulder. Everything about the other student pissed him off, like seriously? How could someone even turn a laugh into such a grating sound? He wasn’t even petty most of the time! Or at least he kept it inside or…
Actually yeah, he did judge everyone but it wasn’t his fault he was surrounded by idiots all the time that either fawned over someone like a god when it was just a classmate, or how said classmates would get some big head over it or how —
He stepped into class, relaxing his hand and pasting on a smile, greeting the teacher in such a manner that Ieiri had dubbed it “competitive kissing ass.”
But it worked, Suguru sliding into his seat at the front and center of the class, forcing his face to take what people would assume to be a peaceful resting face. His teachers loved, sometimes even adored, him, always marking him as a pleasure in class or a gifted, hardworking student with a bright future, so sure in him that he knew they sometimes just skipped reading his assignments in favor of just giving him a perfect score.
He pretended not to notice, stubbornly not turning his head as an all too familiar classmate barged in just as the late bell rang, not even apologizing for the disturbance.
And Ieiri was right, the smell of lavender wafting past him as the other walked past his desk and straight to the back of class.
Suguru decided he didn’t like lavender anymore. Or flowers. Or even the color purple.
He listened to the teacher drone on, keeping his gaze around his forehead crease as he’d read it would create a better illusion of looking him in the eye, the teacher announcing a week long project, Suguru nodding as if the teacher were speaking to him in particular. He’d rather listen along to lessons and take notes, but he could make do and work his ass off for three days so he could be finished and take the last two off. It would serve as a good study break.
He definitely did not slip up and frown as the teacher announced he’d be pairing the class with assigned partners, Suguru biting back a curse because good students would never be caught doing that. He’d made a mental note when he’d started the class, happy that it was an odd number of students so if something like this did happen, he could so easily just work by himself instead of dooming another student to work alone or create an awkward group of three.
And then the transfer had come, throwing it all off and there would be no way to escape this, now would there?
The teacher called off names, pairing students off and Suguru glancing around the classroom, only able to watch as more and more potential tolerable candidates dwindled.
Please. Please no.
“Gojo Satoru,” the teacher called, the blood rushing to Suguru’s ears as he glanced back, a cocky grin and shades staring back at him. Please no. Surely at least someone else was left. Please.
“And Geto Suguru, you’re the last pair.”
So… his name was Gojo…
Surely it wasn’t too late to transfer classes. Maybe even schools. At least Gojo wouldn’t be there. He could just start all over again and surely it couldn’t be that difficult.
“Yes!” Gojo whooped, pumping the air, and Suguru forcing himself to smile in his direction, his right eye twitching. He just… It was only a week, right? And Gojo was in the back of the class so maybe he’d just let Suguru do all the work and play on his phone or something. He’d let him so long as they wouldn’t have to talk.
Gojo clambered over, long limbs all over the place and was it even possible to have the body type of slenderman? The more you knew, he guessed.
Gojo only gave him a dopey grin as he pulled a chair toward Suguru, sitting on the thing backwards. “Wanna work on one computer or two?”
God, even his voice was annoying. Anyone at all would be preferable. Please. What had he done to deserve this? Had he accidentally mentioned that he wanted to be more patient only for some cosmic entity to overhear or something? Was that what this was? Some trial from the heavens?
Suguru learned three things during the first twenty minutes of class, plastic smile plastered over his face and making his cheeks burn with the stress of keeping it on.
One: Gojo didn’t give a single shit about school or studying and was always on his phone during class, but still somehow had an even better grade than Suguru did in not just this class, but all of them, and would probably achieve the title of valedictorian, something Suguru had been on the path to getting till Gojo had barged into their school.
Two: He made horrible jokes and had the humor of a twelve year old boy. He probably snickered over the planet Uranus’s name.
And three: His hair was somehow healthy and fluffy of all things instead of cracking and dry from all the bleach he had to douse it in.
Suguru finally snapped half way through the class, Gojo tilting his head as he looked at him for the millionth time as if dissecting him, rage finally bubbling over and Suguru yanking off his stupid round shades.
“Would you stop!”
And… The words on his tongue died for just a second, Gojo’s eyes so blue and wide, so light and yet bright, putting the very color blue to shame and —
Wait, were his eyelashes white as well? Was he bleaching those as well? Who the fuck did that! He had to be some world class idiot.
“Stop… what?” Gojo asked, eyes wide, yet not making a move for his shades.
“These aren’t cool. At all,” Suguru bit out, yanking them even further away. “They make you look pretentious and even more stupid than you —”
He froze, eyes going wide and clamping his mouth shut. What had he done? He never exploded, always prided himself on keeping his cool and here he was berating Gojo in front of the entire class, shades in his hands. He’d just, he’d have to apologize even if he was right, because what sort of asshole would say all that especially to someone’s face?
And yet, Gojo just smiled, a little subdued and somehow it didn’t get on his nerves this time, even if it was a little wobbly, Suguru handing him back the shades.
“You’re right. They do make me look pretty silly, don’t they?” Gojo agreed, taking out the case for them and storing them in his backpack.
Oh, so it really was just that easy, then. He nodded and they moved on, occasionally trading ideas as they worked on the project, the rest of the class going by much smoother.
Sure, he was still annoying and made him bristle whenever Gojo leaned a little too close, but… Well, it would only be fair to give him a second chance, right? He had listened to reason.
Actually, he thought hours later, fuck second chances, Gojo chasing him down even as Suguru walked away from the school on his way home. Gojo certainly wasn’t one to work on projects after school and really, they’d be fine. Even if Gojo just left halfway through, Suguru would be able to complete the project on his own with no problem.
And yet Gojo caught up to him, matching his pace and giving him another dopey smile, looking genuinely happy to see him despite his blow up during class.
“I like you!” Gojo beamed, Suguru almost stopping in the middle of the sidewalk.
He’d been a complete and utter ass the entirety of class and hadn’t even managed to hide it inside as he usually did. It didn’t help that he could almost swear it sounded like some sort of casual love confession, but that couldn’t be it. Something would have had to be in their school lunch for Gojo to feel that way about him after everything.
It couldn’t even be reverse psychology, grades be damned, Gojo too much of an airhead to try that. He’d seen him lose the pencil he hadn’t even needed at least twice during class.
“Fine,” he bit out, looking away. He might eat his apology and turn it into an insult if he saw Gojo’s face for one more second, no matter how his eyes shone in the sunlight. “I was a jerk. Sorry.”
“That’s… That’s not what I said?” Gojo only said instead, Suguru turning to face him again and Gojo blinking at him owlishly. “You were just being honest? No one else is with me.”
Oh, so that’s what it was and at least that made sense. He’d become friends with Ieiri because she’d been one of the few to actually call him out on his bullshit and then even like who he was underneath, however… However, he highly doubted he himself would like any part of Gojo.
Aside from maybe his eyes he hadn’t been able to get out of his head all day.
“Well, you look better without the shades,” he gave him, Gojo doing that stupid head tilt again and Suguru reaching over to straighten it. “Stop doing that. It’s weird.”
And Gojo certainly didn’t use 3 in 1 shampoo, conditioner, and bodywash, the split second touch of his jaw all impossibly soft skin.
What in the absolute fuck?
Gojo only nodded, pursing his lips and making sure it was straight with his hands as though concentrating on the task before he opened his mouth and talked.
And talked.
And talked some more till Suguru stopped outside his house, leveling him with a look because he’d just been blabbering about some of pokėmon lore and Suguru was only 90% sure that it had to do with those trading cards he’d seen around school.
“I live here. Bye,” he said, excusing himself and Gojo still not getting the hint, only beaming and waving after him, saying he couldn’t wait till the next day to work with him again.
Suguru couldn’t do this anymore, collapsing in his room and covering his head with a pillow. Something told him it would bloom into something more than just being project partners.