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In retrospect he should have noticed.
He was Gojo Satoru, vaunted wielder of Six Eyes, and Nanami Kento’s biggest stalker.
And yet...he had picked up lickity nothing.
But then again how Satoru supposed to guess?!
Kento was blunt, direct, and solitary as they come.
But then there were the others thing.
The suspiciously good etiquette.
The way he poured tea whenever Gojo came by to visit him in his apartment (see: trespassed).
There was the way the man knew how to ballroom dance; how to guide his partner and sway them both in perfect cadence. Gojo only discovered this because one time Yuuji had asked the older man for lessons so he could dance with Megumi at their graduation. And how because Kento was soft on the teen he had humored him, letting Yuuji wrap his arms around his hips as he walked him step by step on the dance routine.
Kento had proper manner, proper eloquence, and a professional disposition detached from his sorcerer persona and as sure as hell did not come from his time as a salary man.
This wasn’t some just proper childhood upbringing, and the more Gojo watched him the more he noticed it.
When hunting down a curse user holing up in a busy club, Kento had managed to slide up to the man and sweet talk him into ditching his body guards and follow him into the backroom where Kento had neatly slit his throat.
The maneuver had been slick and rehearsed, speaking of years of experience; killing undesirables in dark hallways, curtained off alcoves and out of sight corners.
Ten years they’ve been friends but ONLY NOW did Gojo put 2 and 2 together and notice that Kento was trained for Honey Pot missions.
Gojo whistled in appreciation.
The training was part of Tokyo Tech curriculum but it wasn’t obligatory, and due to the nature of the missions not many could qualify. It took a certain amount of natural charisma and innate understanding of human behavior to be chosen.
And apparently Nanami had been chosen.
The next time Gojo pays close attention.
Nanami had frequented a restaurant and Gojo had tagged along (See: Invited himself along. Hey! he ended up paying for both their meals anyway). He ate with his usual gusto but noticed with what articulation and good manners the blond had held his cutlery, sliced the meat, and ate with sedate appreciation. He also noticed how fine Kento’s hands were when tea was brought and he had taken it upon himself to pour cups for the both of them.
For the blond dining was a well-versed art of itself.
An image assailed Satoru’s mind. One of a teen Kento dressed in kimono and seated in a traditional style dining room in some remote clan home in the mountains. An open door revealing an engawa, dense forests and distant snow-capped mountain tops.
The boy, shy taciturn but attentive seated next to a geisha or concubine from the clans and listening watching as she instructs him on how to properly prepare and pour tea. Watch her and listen as she guides him on proper conversational skills. How to sit and carry himself. How not to be too forward but just inviting enough to make men and women fall for his good looking charms.
How to dress and style his outfits to better present his wide shoulders, small waist and strong back.
The way he styles his hair and chooses cologne that incites and hypnotizes.
Gojo’s head spun.
To think…
His dear kohai...a seductress.
The school had trained him to be so.
A piece of juicy mouthwatering meat to be dangled in the faces of curse users set for execution and wealthy non-sorcerers to force them to fork up funds for the seemingly innocent and innocuous ‘religious’ school.
Gojo’s body thrummed with unknown excitement. His blood boiled and his guts smoldered.
He needed to see Kento in one of these missions. To see him in action.
But that sort of job was not passed across Gojo’s desk so he breaks into Yaga’s office and rifles through the newer cases until he find one brief that mentions a wealthy investor who seems promising in terms of generous backing. And Kento’s name was scrawled at the bottom as the sorcerer playing ‘host’ to the businessman.
There was a date and a location named.
Gojo knew the place.
A tea house just outside Tokyo and one that catered to wealthy traditionalists.
It was an easy matter to inconvenience the investor and steal his place.
Now seated at a low table in a private tea room and dressed in his most expensive kimono, Gojo waited.
It wasn’t long before the shoji door opened and in walked Nanami.
Expecting to see a businessman and not his coworker, Kento froze and stared.
Gojo had to exorcise immense restraint not to smile and giggle.
A beat of silence, then Kento sighed and walked inside.
Closing the door behind him, the blond approached and gracefully seated himself at the table.
“Good evening, Keisho-san.” The man said as he reached for the tea things placed in the middle.
Gojo’s smile was down right shit-eating.
“I’m not Keisho-san.”
Nanami glared.
“I can see that.” And he proceeded to mix the herbs without another word.
Gojo stared at the blond with unabashed hunger.
The kimono was white and daisy yellow with birds on the trim. He sat with his back straight and uncompromising. His hair was coiffured and he had some sort of expensive cologne on.
Gojo wanted to ruin him and could easily imagine his clients desiring so.
As he watched the man pour out the drinks and still remain silent he wondered if those teachers had taught him anything else?
Had it just been etiquette and conversation? Entertainment and dress?
Or was there...more?
Gojo’s mind fetched the images from a seeming abyss.
Nanami still young and untouched, stretched out on a futon with a courtesan seated above him. His kimono in disarray and laying open; his face blushing, hair coming undone, and eyes half-lidded as the woman instructed him on how to please a woman.
Would it be one woman?
Why not more?
Gojo saw a whole slew of prostitutes brought in specifically from the high-end Red Light District to oversee the young man’s ‘education’.
Four lovely sylphs grouping around Kento, teasing him and caressing him as they whispered where to touch, where to kiss and how to please; Their kimono’s slipping off their shoulders, their lips painted a sinful red. Meanwhile Nanami would be lying prone and helpless as the women used him for their own pleasure under the cover of educating him to the whiles of seduction.
But oranges where not the only fruit.
And women would not be the only target.
Gojo’s mind reeled and jealousy reared its ugly head.
What about male targets?
What if Nanami had to know how to seduce and lure a male?
Who would educate the younger man then?
He saw that same Kento in that same room, but now instead of large breasts and shapely slim legs he would be with an older man. Someone experienced, rugged, and a Don Juan. The silver fox was to show the young protege on the pleasures shared between men.
He would hold the teen Nanami between his arms to kiss and caress him; Feel the tension drain from the inexperienced flesh as he slowly massaged the trembling shoulders and held the face that looked up at him with uncertainty, shyness, but also...lust.
He would lay the sorcerer down, divest him of his clothes and slowly part the trembling thighs.
He would kiss, taste the hidden treasure there before reaching between the splayed legs to find the hidden entrance.
Would Kento gasp? Would he cry? Would tears stream down his face as he was pried open by rough experienced fingers and then impaled on a large hard cock?
Would sobs escape the younger male as he was deflowered in the name of education?
Had any of the elders or clan members taken advantage of participating in furthering the man’s talents?
Gojo’s imagination got away from him and he saw someone like Naobito or Naoya seated here in his place, hand on Kento’s thigh and leaning close to whisper lewd words before taking Kento’s lips.
Gojo suppressed the growl that threatened to escape his mouth and watched as this older more mature Nanami ordered them parfaits. The white haired male’s eyes widened at seeing the delicious treat.
Even here his skills in anticipating his “clients’” needs was being put on display.
Satoru smiled.
Nanami’s face was un-amused.
But that didn’t matter. As far as he was concerned there would be no more Honey Pot missions for the sorcerer. The elders can find someone else – like Mei Mei – to do the job.
Kento Nanami belonged to Gojo.
No one would touch his kohai.
THE END