#kenorie

of course, the universe had other plans.

"well, well. burning the midnight oil again?"

that voice. smooth, infuriatingly confident, with just enough amusement to make your blood simmer. you didn't need to look up to know satoru gojo stood behind you, probably with that insufferable smirk playing at his lips.

"some of us actually work for our grades, satoru." you replied coolly, still focused on your eqautions. "we can't all coast by on natural talent and daddy's donations."

"ouch, that's beneath you. we both know the gojo name gets me through the door—my brain keeps me at the top."

you finally looked up, and immediately regretted it.

he'd clearly come from the gym—his white hair was slightly damp, pushed back from his forehead and his fitted black shirt clung to shoulders that has no business being that broad on someone who spent most of his time with his nose in textbooks.

those ridiculous blue eyes sparkles behind his designer frames as he leaned against your table, close enough that you caught his scent—clean soap and something expensive.

"the top?" you raised an eyebrow. "i seem to remember scoring two points higher than you on the last thermodynamics exam."

his jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. there it was—that crack in his perfect facade. satoru gojo hated being second in anything.

"a statistical anomaly," he said, but his voice had dropped lower, taking on an edge that made something flutter in your stomach. "won't happen again."

"we'll see about that." you turned back to your work, trying to ignore how aware you were of his proximity. "now if you'll excuse me, some of us have actual work to do."

instead of leaving, he circled around the table, his fingers trailing along the edge. "you're approaching the schrodinger equation wrong."

your head snapped up. "excuse me?"

"your methodology." he gestured at your notes with one long finger. "you're overcomplicating it. the elegant solution is right there, but you're too stubborn to see it."

heat flooded your cheeks—anger, you told yourself, definitely anger and not the way his condescending tone made something clench low in your stomach. you stood abruptly, chair scraping against the floor.

"you arrogant—" you moved around the table toward him, finger jabbing at his chest. "just because you can't stand that i might solve this before you—"

his hand caught your wrist, fast as a snake strike. the contact sent electricity racing up your arm.

"might?" his voice was barely above a whisper now, and suddenly the space between you had collapsed to mere inches. "you really think you're going to beat me?"

your breath caught. this close, you could see the faint shadows under his eyes—he'd been losing seep too, probably obsessing over the same problem sets. could see the way his gaze dropped briefly to your lips before snapping back up. could feel the heat radiating from his body.

"i know i am," you breathed, and you weren't entirely sure you were still talking about physics.

something flickered in his expression—hunger, frustration, need. his grip on your wrist tightened, thumb pressing against your racing pulse.

"you drive me fucking crazy," he muttered, and you couldn't tell if it was an accusation or a confession. "every time you walk into class with that smug look when you've solved something. every time you correct the professor. every time you look at me like i'm just another obstacle to overcome."

"you are an obstacle," you shot back, but your voice came out breathy, unconvincing. "an annoying, arrogant—"

"liar." he stepped closer, backing you against the bookshelf. heavy physics textbooks pressed into your spine. "you're not thinking about obstacles right now. you're thinking about what it would be like if i shut you up."

your heart hammered against your ribs. "you're delusional."

"am i?" his free hand came up to brace against the shelf beside your head, caging you in. "then why is your pulse racing? why are you looking at me like that?"

"like what?" the challenge came out weaker than intended.

"like you want me to kiss you as much as i want to kiss you."

the admission hung between you, charged and dangerous. you should push him away. should tell him to go to hell. should do anything except what you were actually doing—swaying slightly forward, lips parting, every nerve ending screaming for contact.

"this is a terrible idea," you whispered.

"the worst," he agreed, but he was leaning in, his breath ghosting across your lips. "we hate each other."

"absolutely hate each other."

“you’re my rival.”

“and you’re mine.”

the last millimeter of space between you felt like an eternity and an instant. his eyes searched yours, giving you one last chance to stop this, to maintain the careful balance of your academic rivalry.

instead, you closed the distance.

the kiss was nothing like you'd imagined—and you had imagined it, in those dark, shameful moments you'd never admit to. it wasn't soft or tentative. it was fierce, almost violent, teeth clashing as months of tension finally found an outlet. satoru’s hand released your wrist only to tangle in your hair, angling your head exactly where he wanted it, and you bit his lower lip hard enough to make him groan.

"fuck," he breathed against your mouth, and then he was kissing you again, deeper this time, his tongue sliding against yours in a way that made your knees weak. his other hand dropped from the bookshelf to your hip, fingers digging in possessively.

you refused to be passive, refused to let him control this the way he tried to control everything else. your hands found his chest, shoving him backward even as you followed, refusing to break the kiss. he stumbled slightly, surprise flickering across his features before his expression turned predatory.

"oh, you want to play it like that?" his voice was rough, wrecked already, and the sound of it sent heat pooling between your thighs.

"i don't play," you shot back, grabbing his shirt and pulling him back to you. "i win."

his laugh was dark and breathless. "we’ll see about that."

this time when he kissed you, he walked you backward until you hit the bookshelf again, but harder, the impact forcing a gasp from your lips that he swallowed greedily. his thigh pressed between your legs, and the pressure made you see stars. you couldn't stop the small sound that escaped your throat.

"that's it," satoru murmured against your jaw, his lips trailing down to your neck. "let me hear you. let me hear what i do to you."

his teeth grazed your pulse point, and your hips rolled against his thigh involuntarily, seeking friction. his answering groan vibrated against your skin.

"satoru—" his name came out strangled as his hand slid under your shirt, fingers splaying across your ribs, thumb brushing the underside of your breast through your bra.

"say it again." it was a command, breathed hot against your ear. "say my name again."

instead, you grabbed his face and pulled him back to your mouth, kissing him with everything you had—all the frustration, the competition, the sleepless nights spent thinking about him when you should have been studying. your hands slid into his hair, tugging hard enough to make him hiss.

his hips pressed forward, and you could feel how hard he was through his shorts, the evidence of his desire making you bold. your hand slid down between your bodies, palming him through the cotton, and his whole body went rigid.

"jesus christ," he groaned, his head falling forward to rest against your shoulder. "you're going to kill me."

"good," you whispered, but your voice shook. "you deserve it for being so—"

he cut you off with another bruising kiss, his hand finally, finally sliding up to cup your breast properly, thumb circling your nipple through the thin fabric until you were squirming against him, desperate for more.

the sound of a door opening somewhere on the floor below made you both freeze.

"shit," you breathed, reality crashing back in. you were in the library. the university library. where anyone could walk in and find you grinding against each other like teenagers.

satoru's chest heaved against yours, his pupils blown wide behind his glasses, lips swollen and red. he looked thoroughly debauched, and the sight made you want to pull him back in and damn the consequences.

"my place," he said roughly, his voice barely recognizable. "now. unless you want to get caught with your hand down my pants in the physics section."

you should say no. should tell him this was a mistake, that you needed to think, that crossing this line would complicate everything.

instead, you grabbed your bag with shaking hands.

"lead the way."

the walk to his dorm was a blur of heated glances and barely restrained touches. every time someone passed in the hallway, you forced space between your bodies, but the moment you were alone again, satoru's hand found the small of your back, possessive and burning through your shirt.

his room was exactly what you'd expected—minimalist, obsessively organized, floor-to-ceiling bookshelves filled with advanced physics texts and mathematical proofs. you had approximately three seconds to take it in before he kicked the door shut and pressed you against it, his mouth finding yours with renewed urgency.

"finally," he breathed between kisses, his hands already working at the buttons of your shirt. "do you know how many times ive imagined this? how many lectures i’ve sat through, watching your mouth move, thinking about what it would feel like—"

"shut up," you cut him off, yanking his shirt over his head and finally, finally getting your hands on bare skin. his body was ridiculous—lean muscle and smooth planes that had no right existing on someone who spent sixteen hours a day studying. you dragged your nails down his chest, gratified when he shuddered. "you talk too much."

"make me stop then," he challenged, that infuriating smirk back on his lips even as his hands made quick work of your bra, tossing it aside carelessly.

so you did, biting down on his lower lip as your hands went to his waistband. his groan was everything you'd hoped for, desperate and needy, and when you finally got your hand inside his shorts, wrapping around his cock, his knees actually buckled slightly.

"fuck," he hissed, his forehead dropping to yours, hips jerking into your touch. "you're—god, you're—"

"what?" you stroked him slowly, deliberately, watching his face contort with pleasure. "i’m what, satoru? use your words. you're usually so articulate."

his eyes snapped open, blazing with challenge and desire. "you're going to regret that."

before you could respond, he'd spun you around, pressing your chest against the door as he yanked your pants and underwear down in one smooth motion. the cool air hit your heated skin, and then his hand was between your thighs, fingers sliding through your wetness.

"this wet already?" his voice was dark honey in your ear, smug and wrecked at the same time. "and you act like you hate me. your body's telling a different story."

"fuck you," you gasped as two fingers pushed inside you, curling perfectly.

"that's the plan." his free hand came up to cup your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers as he worked you open with the other. "but first, i want to hear you admit it. admit you've wanted this."

you bit your lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction, even as your hips rocked back against his hand, chasing more friction. his thumb found your clit, circling with maddening precision, and a whimper escaped despite your best efforts.

"stubborn," he murmured, but there was admiration in his voice. "fine. we'll do this the hard way."

he withdrew his fingers, and you actually whined at the loss, which would have been embarrassing if you weren't so desperate. you heard the sound of a condom wrapper tearing, and then his hands were on your hips, positioning you.

"last chance to back out," he said, and beneath the bravado, you heard the question. the need for confirmation that you wanted this as much as he did.

you looked over your shoulder, meeting those impossibly blue eyes. "if you don't fuck me right now, i swear to god—"

he pushed inside in one smooth thrust, and the rest of your threat dissolved into a broken moan. he was big, stretching you perfectly, and for a moment you both just stayed there, adjusting to the sensation.

"jesus," satoru's voice was strangled, his fingers digging into your hips hard enough to bruise. "you feel—fuck, you feel incredible."

then he started moving, and coherent thought became impossible. each thrust drove you harder against the door, the sound of skin on skin obscenely loud in the quiet room. you braced your hands against the wood, pushing back to meet him, and his groan of approval sent heat spiraling through you.

"that's it," he panted, one hand sliding up your spine to fist in your hair, tugging your head back. "take it. show me how badly you've wanted this."

the angle had him hitting something devastating inside you with every thrust, and you couldn't stop the sounds spilling from your lips—whimpers and moans and his name, over and over like a prayer.

"satoru—god, right there, don't stop—"

"wasn't planning on it." his other hand snaked around to find your clit again, rubbing tight circles that had you seeing stars. "want to feel you come on my cock. want to know i'm the one who makes you fall apart."

"arrogant—ah!—bastard," you managed, but it came out more like praise than insult.

"you love it," he shot back, and the worst part was he was right. you loved his confidence, his brilliance, the way he pushed you to be better even as he drove you insane. loved the way he was taking you apart now, like he'd studied your body the way he studied quantum mechanics—with intense focus and determination to master every variable.

the orgasm built at the base of your spine, tension coiling tighter and tighter. "satoru, i'm—i'm going to—"

"do it," he commanded, his rhythm becoming erratic, chasing his own release. "come for me. let me feel it."

the combination of his fingers on your clit, his cock driving deep, and his voice in your ear pushed you over the edge. you came with a cry that he muffled with his hand over your mouth, your whole body shaking as pleasure crashed through you in waves.

"fuck, fuck, fuck—" satoru’s hips stuttered, and then he was coming too, his forehead dropping to your shoulder as he groaned your name like a confession.

for a long moment, neither of you moved, both trying to remember how to breathe. then satoru carefully pulled out, disposing of the condom before turning you around. his hair was a mess, his glasses slightly askew, and he'd never looked more beautiful.

"so," he said, that smirk creeping back onto his kiss-swollen lips. "still think you're going to beat me on that problem set?"

you laughed, breathless and incredulous. "are you seriously bringing up homework right now?"

"just want to know if i fucked some sense into you."

you grabbed his face and kissed him, slower this time, deeper. when you pulled back, his eyes were soft, vulnerable in a way you'd never seen before.

"round two," you said, walking backward toward his bed. "and this time, i’m on top."