Chapter Text
You’re really here, their eyes seem to say.
The world is quiet tonight. Everything beyond the threshold of Gojo’s apartment and time itself froze for this holy matrimony. The trees whisper amongst each other. If they said anything of importance, neither Nanami nor Gojo would know. Their ears finely tuned to the rhythm of each other’s breathing and the melody of each other’s voices.
This infinitesimal infinity is theirs and theirs alone.
Facing each other on Gojo’s bed, one in threadbare pajamas and the other still in work clothes, they give themselves and each other permission to be selfish, drinking in each other’s features. A 25-year-long drought and they were each other’s oasis.
“Say my name,” Nanami asks, pleading even though he doesn’t need to.
“Kento,” Gojo embellishes it with a smile.
“Say my name again.”
“Nanami Kento,” this time he giggles unabashed and so blissfully happy.
Bridging the space between them, Nanami traces the lines of Gojo’s smile with light fingers. Traces the wrinkles by his eyes, then the ones by his lips. His heart swells as he maps out every detail of him because every line he discovers is just a new way to spell "Gojo Satoru", and Nanami wants to pocket all the things he missed and will miss.
He inhales deeply and greedily. The room smells like comfort. Like old books, rich wood, saturated by the ambrosial scent of Gojo Satoru. Nanami can’t seem to get enough of it. He feels like he’s tasting air for the first time.
Gojo captures his hand and places a gentle kiss on the heart of Nanami’s palm. And then another on his pinky, and then another on his ring finger, and suddenly feather-light kisses are not nearly enough to satisfy all the want Nanami has for him.
“Kiss me,” he says, both of them knowing that he isn’t asking for another one on his hands.
And Gojo looks sad, his age seeping into all the crevices that Nanami traced just moments ago. For the first time, Nanami thinks Gojo’s eyes seem faded. Like the distant horizon blue that one only begins to miss as the sun sets.
“I can’t,” he says with every feature on his face crying a variation of I’m sorry, asking for forgiveness from a wrong that wasn’t a sin.
Nanami’s brows furrow because he has over a decade’s worth of memories of Gojo and not a single one has him not wanting to kiss Nanami.
“Can’t or won’t?” He reaches for an answer, knowing that, no matter what Gojo gives, he will never be able to chase the sky. Not in this lifetime.
“Can’t.” Gojo rubs the back of Nanami’s hand. I’m sorry.
“How come?”
“Because,” the rhythm of Gojo’s breath stutters ever so slightly. “Kissing you would undo everything I did to get over you.”
Nanami's breath stills.
Right.
He had died. Is technically still dead; cremated and buried underground. His tombstone was well-kept, adorned with fresh flowers. People grieved for him. Gojo grieved for him and healed and moved on.
I’m happy for you, Satoru. The thought is as sincere as it is blue.
“I know I just got my memories back,” Nanami says, approaching his revelation. “But some part of me has always missed you. Satoru, I don’t think I ever stopped missing you. Not for the last 25 years.”
In a moment of lightness, Gojo’s lips curl into a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You mean this old man?”
“An old man for an old soul,” Nanami retorts.
“Kento,” his smile turns into one of longing. “You deserve to move on.”
He holds Gojo’s hand tighter. “What if I don’t want to?”
“You will,” he reciprocates Nanami’s grasp. “If I could, then so can you.”
“But I don’t want to leave you.”
“You won’t.”
“How do you know that?”
“When do trees go from knowing to having known? We never see the rings take shape, yet we know it happens anyways. I trust that you have always known me. Will always know me. Perhaps that’s why I was able to let you go.”
“But I don’t want you to let me go.”
“Nanami Kento, I let you go a long time ago. That was my final gift to you. That doesn’t mean I've left you. Just because we’ll continue living on opposite sides of the world, doesn’t mean I'm not forever by your side.”
Gojo pulls himself impossibly closer to Nanami, depriving the space between them of any air. He stares into his eyes with a borrowed look on borrowed time.
The sky is about to rain.
“Don’t you remember, Kento? You’ll-”
Nanami buries his face in his chest. Gojo’s arm encompasses him, and his hand finds purchase in Nanami’s hair.
“You'll always have me," Nanami completes his words. "I’ll always have you, Gojo Satoru.”
Gojo places a kiss on the top of Nanami’s head and slips a ring onto his finger.
Gives him something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue.
The end to their prayer - a hymn for the trees.
He whispers,
In this infinitesimal infinity,
In every life, in every timeline,
And in every one after,
“You’ll always have me.”
You'll always have me, Nanami Kento.