Chapter Text
“Why am I here again?”
“Because I scored two sessions with Master Beige and I want you to go first.”
Master Beige? Seriously?
“That’s a horrible name for a Master. It’s supremely un-Master-like.”
“What does the name matter? If he’s the very best?”
You’d not been to a private sex club before, but your friend Sumire begged you. Besides, you were curious. Your sex life was fine - but it shouldn’t be just fine, should it? It should be great, wondrous, miraculous. You were ready to spice it up, at least see what else was out there to discover.
Especially because your colleagues were always talking about sex. Satoru and Suguru could not keep their mouths shut about their exploits. Outside the grounds of Jujutsu Tech, they seemed to have fucked their way through the city. You’d made it clear you didn’t want to get caught up in their crazy, so they left you alone - but you couldn’t help but overhear plenty. If they could have it that good outside of the sorcery world, so could you .
The club was clean and bright, and nothing illicit was in public- it looked like a regular bar in here. This was where people came to stay private, not parade their exploits. The vibe was friendly, open, and decidedly not creepy. It was just what you needed: a place of safe exploration.
Sumire explained her plan. “I’ll give you tonight's pass. I’ll just take the second reservation in a couple weeks.”
You smiled weakly at your friend. Even though Master Beige sounded like a bore, maybe starting at the top wasn’t a good idea? You should ease your way into it, right?
Sumire interrupted your thoughts. “Listen, I’m nervous. If you go first you can report back.”
“I’ve never even been here before! What makes you think I wouldn’t be nervous too?”
“But you’re brave! Think of it like…a conference, or interview. Anyway let’s have a drink. We’ve got 15 minutes, before your 15 minutes with Him .”
You sighed. Consent was the whole name of the game, right? You wouldn’t have to do anything you didn’t want to. You’d just have a talk. Fifteen minutes. In and out.
After two quick drinks - liquid courage indeed - Sumire was pushing you towards the beige door at the back. The hallway was spartan and high-tech; you swiped your pass like a hotel room key, and the light went on.
Sumire patted your shoulder. “Good luck,” she said. “Better you than me.”
“Apparently,” you said. And you took a deep breath, and opened the heavy door.
The room was, in fact, quite beige - completely forgettable. It wasn’t dark and dungeon-y; and it contained very little other than a comfortable looking chaise for one. The one man in the room had his back to you, and was flipping through some papers on a high end table like he was a fucking office worker. He wore a close-fitting dress shirt and slacks, sleeves rolled up. So the only thing you could really see was his ass - not bad - and his forearms, which were definitely not bad.
He turned, as if just realizing you were there. You smirked. Nice trick, you thought. I’m onto you, dominant player guy.
Your eyes were drawn to the triangle of skin below his open dress-shirt buttons. As you eased your gaze up, you saw that his hair was tousled - kind-of messy - and his dark eyes appraised you. Damn, he looked good. And he looked familiar. Did you know him?
He smiled.
“Oh, hello, y/n.”
You squinted.
It couldn’t be.
“ Ijichi?”
Your mind wasn’t processing the Ijichi in front of you: this couldn’t be your co-worker, that little constantly-intimdated man that seemed to serve everyone but himself.
You considered this was a brother? A twin? But then how would he know your name? It wasn’t on the pass.
You squinted again, as if you needed glasses. And speaking of glasses, he wasn’t wearing any. Everything was different, from his tousled hair to the fit of the suit. You only knew it was him because of the jawbone. And the stern, slightly dour look you’d seen him give to students.
The students who were his subordinates .
Now you were supposed to be his subordinate?
What the hell was happening?
You looked around like you were in some kind of reality show. Was there a camera? Would Satoru jump out laughing at your momentary belief this could be true?
Ijichi cocked his head a little bit. He didn’t seem at all bothered by the silence.
“I-I uh-”
Never had you thought you’d stammer in Ijichi’s presence.
The only thing you could think to say was, “I, uh, won’t tell anyone about this.”
He gave the faintest shrug. And didn't break eye contact.
“I don’t really give a fuck if you do.”
At that, you actually took a step back. This was not the man you knew.
His every action was so different . He was short, but his strong posture here gave him a different demeanor. His dark eyes bored through you. You felt, to your own shock, off-balance.
He headed for his chair.
“Sit.”
Did he mean on the floor ?
Instead you leaned against the tall side table. Ijichi looked at you, completely comfortable in his skin. His eyes went back and forth, slowly, between you and the floor. He was waiting, and he looked like he could wait forever. In fact, he looked quite bored. You practically growled when he glanced at his watch. How dare he.
You really did want answers. And you were playing on the visiting team.
So you sat, but with a loud sigh, your back against the tall table leg as a small victory.
When you looked up at him again, his eyebrows were raised. You’d never even seen his eyebrows unfurrowed, let alone raised.
“Fine,” you sighed. “I’ll say it. This is the last place I’d expect you to be. I mean Gojo or Geto -”
“Pffft.”
Pffft ?
Gojo’s and Geto’s sexcapades were legendary . You were far more intimidated by them than this beige fucking room.
It was your turn to raise your eyebrows.
You gave him a sarcastic, “Really?”
“ Really . All they are is pretty.”
So he was sticking to it. You rolled your eyes.
Ijichi leaned forward a little. You recognized the stern face with which he directed students, and had to admit, it was a good fit in this context.
“People who are that pretty coast on their looks but neglect skill.”
He had a point - for some men. You doubted that Gojo and Geto were talentless in bed. Though to be fair, you didn’t know for sure. You’d give him that much.
“They think they’re Gods,” he said, without a hint of jealousy. He almost sounded like…he pitied them. “Gods don’t bother to learn what pleases others - they think they don't have to. Then they become selfish and neglectful sexual partners.”
When he put it that way…
“For example,” he continued. “Gojo has Inifinity, so you only touch him when he wants you to.”
You nodded. You knew that.
“But in this room,” Ijichi said with confidence, “you only touch me if I tell you to.”
Your eyes widened, and you felt a tiny, tiny chill. It was clear he meant every word, and that mattered a lot.
Only touch him when he told you to? You wanted to walk over and prove him wrong. But you didn’t think you’d even catch him, if you tried. He had trained at Jujutsu High too; he had skill. People forgot it, since his classmates were so outstanding. You started to wonder if maybe that suited him just fine.
He didn’t have to say more: he’d reminded you what everyone had forgotten. Ijichi was a sorcerer, even though his classmates outshone him. He was a director at the school, and had proven himself to be a superb tactician. Truly, he stood right behind the superstars. Without him, they might not even be superstars. You pursed your lips.
“Anyway,” he said, looking bored, “I’m booked three months out. But since I know you, I’ll let you audition right now.”
Now? Audition? Booked? What the hell was he talking about?
“Oh, uh,” you replied. “I don’t think I actually want to um…that’d be awkward. At work.”
He shrugged. “For you, maybe. Your choice. Either way I’m free for the next ten minutes only.”
You looked him over, and couldn’t deny you were curious. His body was compact and muscular, and he was in complete control of it. He clearly knew what he was doing here.
And your pride somehow didn’t want him to get away with this.
Maybe you should give yourself three months to think about it. Yeah, good idea. This was a lot to take in.
Still, you heard your own voice ask. “What does it mean to, uh, audition?”
He sighed. You were boring him. Unbelievable.
“It depends on the person,” he said. He looked you over, taking your measure. As if he hadn’t already seen you dozens of times.
Then he spoke slowly, processing while talking. “In your case, well, it’s clear you have a stick up your ass.”
“That’s rich coming from you,” you muttered.
“And,” he continued, referencing what you’d just said, “clearly you think you know me. So I’d have to add in time for that.” He sounded exasperated, and looked at his watch.
This was starting to piss you off. This was Ijicji for Chrissakes. He couldn’t tell you what to do.
“Fine,” you spat out. “I’ll audition or whatever.”
He leaned forward, knees on elbows. He was about to talk sex with you. Ijichi - far less flustered than you were at the moment - was about to talk.
About Sex.
With you.
“Could you make yourself cum in 9 minutes?” Like he was asking if you could boil water. It’d be laughable how comfortable he was, if you weren’t on the defensive.
“Of course,” you said, with a bit of a blush. Though you weren’t actually sure. It’s not like you counted time before orgasms at home, and you didn’t see any vibrators around.
He smiled, with no teeth. Ijichi was humoring you. “Go ahead.”
“What?!?”
He read your face expertly. “Whatever you use at home, I have. I’ll allow that much.”
You couldn’t tell by then if you were angry, embarrassed, or determined.
Determination won.
“I use a - a - I don’t even know what it’s called, it’s hot pink, it’s got two-”
Ijichi rolled his eyes. “Typical. I know the one.” He dug in a cabinet behind him and produced the exact toy you had barely described.
“Holy shit,” you said.
He tossed it on the ground in front of you. You knew what that was all about…you had to come over and reach for it. He wasn’t going to hand you anything at all.
You inched over, unboxed the toy, and turned it on, testing it.
It wasn’t lost on you that you’d wound up sitting exactly where he’d gestured when you first walked in.
Ijichi leaned back, and put one ankle on his other knee. “On top of your clothes…I don’t want your nudity.” He made it sound like your nudity was disgraceful. You felt like stripping out of defiance alone.
“To summarize,” he said. “Eight minutes -” he glanced at his watch again - “seven now, and clothes on. One more rule.”
You looked up at him. From the floor, the height difference between you was painfully obvious at the moment.
“I’m going to limit your noise. You can only make two sounds. If you make three, you fail.”
“Easy,” you said with gritted teeth. You couldn’t believe you were about to masturbate in front of Ijichi. But this didn’t even seem like him. You told yourself it wasn’t. In a way, you were right.
So you closed your eyes. And lay down.
It wasn’t even about auditioning anymore. You didn’t even want what he had to offer. You just didn’t want to lose.
You turned on the vibrator.
You were going to have an orgasm, and win this little game, even if it killed you.
Is it possible to hate-fuck yourself? Because that’s what you were about to do. You hated him, hated yourself for being here, hated Sumire for bringing you here. Hated this fucking toy.
But dammit you weren’t leaving.
You kept your eyes closed and touched the toy to your groin, turning it on once in position. To your surprise, you let out an audible sigh. Ijichi or not, you were in a sex club, and kind-of wound up from the moment you walked in.
You imagined that counted as one sound. He wasn’t going to count for you, and you weren’t going to open your eyes to look.
As you got comfortable and turned up the vibration, you tried to imagine yourself at home, but your brain just couldn’t. The floor was cold and hard, it was dead quiet in here, and with your clothes on you couldn’t insert the vibrator like you would at home. Plus, someone was watching, evaluating you. And you knew that person. And what you knew about them was all backwards.
You started to wonder if you could cum at all. You redoubled your efforts, rolling the toy around to remind your body what you were supposed to be doing.
For some reason you didn’t want to touch yourself anywhere else - even if you had been alone in here, it still felt exposed somehow, like you were telling secrets you shouldn’t. You grasped the cold floor to brace yourself. And you let out a deep breath, and focused on the growing warmth between your legs.
Finally you managed to find spots that worked for you, and you finally relaxed on the hard floor, letting out a soft moan. For all you knew, Ijichi had left. You pretended he had, and that made it much easier.
But then you realized: you had just made two sounds.
Fuck .
If you were going to get to orgasm, you’d have to do it silently. Better get this done fast.
How many minutes did he say you had?
Were you already obeying his stupid rules?
You told yourself to focus, which made you lose focus. But finally your body relaxed enough to get the job done.
You managed to climax about a minute later, without moans but a lot of panting. Surely he couldn’t fail you for breathing, right? You did it.
Proud of yourself, you squeezed your legs together and rolled over to a fetal-like position, powering off the toy, praying you’d open your eyes and be alone.
You opened your eyes. You weren’t alone.
“Decent,” Ijichi said. “That was five minutes, not bad.”
Not bad?
“Needs work, though. I’m barely hard.”
Still shivering a little, you pulled yourself up. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
He smiled. “See you tomorrow morning at work, y/n. You may take the toy with you.”
He didn’t even invite you back?
Needs work?
Oh fuck that. You were for sure giving him extra harassment at work tomorrow. And you were for sure coming back to whatever this “beige” room fucking was.
You left the toy, and left without saying goodbye.
Still, you had the faintest worry that the more shit you gave him at work, the more he might dish it back to you in this very room.
You slammed the door anyway.
Sumire ran up as you emerged from the hallway. “Well? Is he hot?”
You shook your head. “I fucking hate him.”
She grabbed your arm. “But is he hot?”
You headed for the door and some fresh air. You never wanted to see that place again. But you were mad enough that you knew you would.
“I hate him,” you repeated.
You gritted your teeth.
“But yeah. Yeah. He’s hot.”