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Gojo wakes up to the feeling of a soft touch on his left cheek. Long, careful fingers covering his jaw, stretching beneath his ear; a thumb stroking his cheekbone with such care that he hadn’t felt for a very, very long time.
It's a touch that shouldn't even be made. Not usually. But here, in this damn prison box, his powers are more or less useless.
More more than less.
But he can still feel this familiarity—this sense of belonging , even—even before he hears the voice speak. The touch is enough for him to know.
"Satoru."
He lifts his blindfold with one finger and gazes at the figure that is leaning above him. Geto’s black hair is tied in a high bun, only one strand falling to the side of his forehead. The Jujutsu High uniform collar is tightened neatly around his neck, black round plug earrings taking most of the space on his earlobes. Like they always used to. His face is handsome and young and welcoming. Nostalgic.
His right palm is the most visible part of his body, or rather, it's… gleaming. As if there's an invisible sun that touches it.
His eyes are the exact same as Gojo remembers. His smile, too.
It truly is Geto Suguru.
Or is it?
"Suguru," he mumbles as he sits up. He only now realizes that he was sleeping on Geto’s lap this entire time.
"It's been a while, hm?" Geto smiles.
Slipping his blindfold down to his neck, Gojo gives himself another moment to observe the figure that is sitting in front of him. Geto's clothes really are his old uniform; a regular Jujutsu High jacket and large, puffy pants. The Jujutsu pin is missing from the side of his jacket, so it's partially open on the left, revealing a white shirt beneath it.
His expression is a mixture of regret, endearment, patience; it appears he is giving Gojo the time he needs just as much as he takes it himself.
He always understood Gojo the most.
That is, if it isn't only a figment of his imagination, or a dream, or a hallucination. It can very well be, given that Gojo is stuck here for God-knows how long. This Geto is a young version of himself, too. The one that completed him and stood by his side and fought him about stupid things like the last piece of cake or justice. The one that wasn't only the compass of Gojo's life, but the only one that truly cared about him.
His one and only.
So who the fuck cares if he's real, or if Gojo had just gone insane?
"How are you here?" he chooses to ask.
Geto chuckles. It's as cute as ever. “I bugged Kenjaku too many times. He’s had enough of me trying to take my body back, so he sent me here, too.”
"Ah. So that's the fucker's name." Gojo can't help but smile at Geto's words, even if just for a moment. "I hope you gave him hell."
"I sure did my best," Geto sighs and leans his head on his hand. "So, Satoru. You really fucked up this time, hmm?"
Rolling his eyes, Gojo lets out a frustrated groan. "One time too many, this time."
Too many mistakes, one after the other. He already knows that now; those things have been racing in his mind ever since he got here. It really makes him want to slap himself.
"You did what you thought was right," Geto tries to comfort. Gojo gives him a look. "But yeah. Sorry about all of that."
"... It wasn't your fault, Suguru. It was all me."
His chest is filled with so many emotions that he can't even look at Geto's face anymore; instead, he rolls his eyes down to gaze at Geto's right hand again. It has some sort of aura around it, untainted by Kenjaku's presence in his original body. The reason for that makes Gojo's heart ache even more—it's one of those things that no matter how much he tries to push into the back of his mind, it always finds its way back, only to wrap its fingers around his neck for all eternity.
Funny. People think he's full of himself—which is true—but sometimes, he really can't stand being Gojo Satoru.
He covers his eyes with his fingers and squeezes.
"What's wrong, Satoru?"
"... I'm sorry, Suguru. About… everything."
Even without looking, he can feel Geto's gaze piercing his very soul.
He doesn't want to know what expression he has on his face.
"You're right. I fucked up. I really did. Not only now… I fucked up with you the most." He bites his lip. He wants to bite it until it bleeds, but this place won't let him hurt himself. Damnit. "Back then, I didn't see what you went through… I didn't see you. And I'm sorry. I didn't want to kill you."
Geto remains silent.
Gojo lets out a bitter laugh, only to cover for the sudden need to burst into tears. "And the higher-ups knew it. They must have… those assholes. They most likely turned against me by now, too. And the ones who eat the most shit are my students. "
That's probably the most painful aspect of it all. The responsibility was on him, but they got fucked over; they need to clean up his mess. He trusts them with every cell in his body, but he can't help but feel anxious when all of this heavy load just slipped from his fingers after years of carrying it on his own. He's never wanted to hand this weight to others, Jujutsu sorcerers or not. They don't deserve it.
Silence surrounds the two like spreading miasma. Geto's presence now is… Gojo doesn't know if it's comforting, but it's… something.
Something that he needed this entire time but didn't have because of the biggest mistake of his life.
"It wasn't all you, you know."
Gojo finally looks at him.
"I fucked up, too. A lot. I thought I was being a righteous adult when I was just… I was ready to sacrifice everything for this goal because I didn't see any other option left. Even if there was."
Gojo lets out a sigh. His mind fills itself with expressions of could have and should have and if only —and the scenarios only pile one on top of the other like bricks on his brain.
It sure is exhausting to have a conscience and limitless time to kill.
"But, you know," Geto continues, "at the end of the day, each of us did what we thought was right, for ourselves and for the world. I don't think I can change the way I see the monki— them anymore, but… I know now that it only opened a way to a much bigger problem."
Geto takes Gojo's hand within his own, intertwining their fingers together. "But, after giving it some thought… Do you know what our primary mistake was?"
Gojo had never imagined such a delicate touch could take the breath out of his lungs like it just did. He blinks at the sight of their hands, and then lifts his eyes to Geto again.
Some part of him already knows the answer.
"We pulled apart, you and I. We didn't talk to each other… like we're doing now. We both sought the truth in other places and in ourselves when all we needed was each other. We just couldn't see it."
Allowing himself to squeeze Geto's hand, Gojo finds himself fighting to hold things inside him that are usually much easier to deal with. His jaw tightens as he bows his head again, his breath heavy. He nods, knowing he shouldn't speak. Can't. Doesn't want to.
"I also made another mistake that I want to apologize for." Geto pulls the hand that clutches his own closer to his chest. Gojo is surprised by how warm it is. He's even more surprised by that sad, beautiful smile, those dark eyes that are holding within them such compassion and regret that Gojo isn't able to look away. "You are not The Strongest because you're Gojo Satoru, and you're not Gojo Satoru because you're The Strongest. You are just Gojo Satoru, and one of your traits is being The Strongest. I'm sorry I mixed it all up back then."
Gojo's eyes widen at that. "Suguru…"
"And… Even when you're Gojo Satoru, it's okay not to be The Strongest all the time. It doesn't make you weak. There's nothing wrong with letting off some steam if you need to."
As soon as the words reach his ears, Gojo's heartbeat accelerates so much that tears begin to sting in his eyes. All of the emotions that until now simmered within his chest want to escape, but he doesn't want them to boil over, he doesn't want them to take hold of him—he mustn't, he mustn't—
"Satoru…" Geto whispers, pressing his forehead to Gojo's.
Real. Geto feels real. His smooth forehead is so soft; his body radiates warmth. His scent is exactly as Gojo remembers it: just as sweet, just as addictive. His voice is as gentle as a lullaby. His presence is everything.
"It's just you and me here, in this prison. No one else will see. You can put down the heavy loads from your shoulders—you don't need to pretend or hold it all inside anymore. I'm here now. It's okay to cry."
Something in Gojo breaks. He doesn't know if it's his heart, his mind, or just the floodgate that he put between himself and his emotions for so long. Maybe it's just all of them together. Whatever it is, it makes him slide his forehead to Geto's shoulder and bury his face in the crook of his neck.
He doesn't make a sound when he cries. The only indication of his sobbing is an occasional sniff, his broken inhales, and the shaking of his shoulders.
He can feel comforting arms embracing him, brushing against his hair, and he fully leans into the touch.
He doesn't know how long they sit like that, but it feels like eternity, and the tears don't stop. It's as if his eyes just recognized this rare moment and decided to let everything out as much as they can before the opportunity would pass. He cries until he can't anymore, until his eyes hurt, until his body is satisfied with the release of energy—the kind of energy he never let out before, not like this.
But he also feels… as if a great load is slowly opening its grip from around his heart.
When he lifts his head up, he knows he is looking at Geto through puffy, red eyes.
He sees that Geto's face is the same: wet and flushed beneath the eyes, but he's still smiling. He cups Gojo's cheek, this time with his radiant right palm.
His hair is suddenly down, long and magnificent and wild, just like Geto himself is. "You always treated me as your equal…" Geto suddenly whispers, his fingers caressing Gojo's cheek again, "even when we were pulled apart. But I didn't think that. I couldn't be you, Satoru. And I couldn't be The Strongest."
"Suguru," Gojo whispers too, his voice sore. He sniffles again. "Having one Gojo Satoru in this world is more than enough, believe me. I've always seen you as The Strongest alongside me—I still do."
Geto chuckles, and Gojo wipes a tear from Geto's eye. "Really?"
"Of course I do."
"Hm… this prison realm is getting to you, isn't it?"
"Oh, shut up. I'm serious! I really—"
When Geto allows himself to bring Gojo's hand up to his lips and kiss it, it makes Gojo swallow his tongue, the blush spreading on his face like fire in the woods. He mumbles unintelligibly, as if he isn't able to use words coherently anymore.
And that's when Geto laughs. He laughs in a way that Gojo hadn't heard in years, and if before he only blushed, now his entire body vibrates.
He feels seventeen again: dumb and excited and in love. He didn't think he'd ever feel this way again since back then, and here he is, proven wrong—once again. Maybe the crying did something, after all.
He slides his fingers through Geto's long, black hair. It's just as soft as it looks.
"Is it okay?" Geto asks. "To be with my hair like this? I don't want it to trigger any—"
"It's more than fine, Suguru. I'll always love you, no matter how you look."
It's Geto's turn to blink at Gojo with surprise.
Only now does Gojo realize what he just said. His eyes widening, he begins to stutter, his brain racing in search of an excuse—
And then, in a swift movement, Geto's palm cups the back of Gojo's head, bringing their faces closer before Gojo could even acknowledge it. Their lips connect in a gentle kiss, one that is gone as quickly as it happened.
"Satoru…" Geto whispers.
The coldness that is left on Gojo's mouth is too much for him to bear. It takes his brain exactly one second to process what just happened, and then—he kisses Geto again, pressing them harder against each other. His fingers dig into Geto's hair, his eyes shutting to let the rest of his senses take over during this experience.
The kiss feels just as lustrous as Geto's right hand. His lips, his tongue, his breath, his warmth—all of them feel real, so real that he doesn't want to let go. So real that he wants to feel his lungs ache while holding the air within them.
They pull away with a soft, wet sound, each leaning against the other's forehead. Their heavy exhales mixed together.
"... Finally, huh?" Geto jokes, breathless.
"Yeah. I owe Shouko two thousand yen."
"Huh?"
"Mhm. We bet on which one of us would initiate the kiss if you and I ever kissed."
They both laugh, and Gojo feels alive. Even if it's all not real, and even if Geto is only in his head, and even if this prison realm made Gojo lose it completely; at least he is truly happy for the first time in his life.
"I'm sorry," Geto whispers after calming down.
"You don't need to, Suguru," Gojo whispers back. "I kissed you back. Gladly."
"Not about the kiss. The kiss was great—you're a good kisser, actually—but I mean… I'm sorry that Kenjaku used my body to get to you. In the end… It means I was the only thing that could distract you. He took advantage of that, and now, you're stuck here because of me."
"Let me get something clear, Suguru. I'm here because of me. You're probably here because of me, too."
"No, not really—"
"In a twisted way, if you think about it, you are. But… we shouldn't think about this. Not like this. Not after what we just did."
Geto nods and gives a gentle smile. "Okay."
As they look into each other's eyes, Gojo can feel his sting again. Frowning, he lets out a sigh and leans into Geto's touch, feeling him wrapping his arms around him in an embrace. He leans his forehead against Geto's neck, bringing his knees to his chest so Geto would be able to wrap him whole. And he does. He envelopes Gojo as much as he can, and Gojo welcomes the warmth wholeheartedly.
"Then let me say this," Geto continues in a mumble. "You believe in your students, right?"
Gojo nods.
"Then they can do it. They can save the world that you're trying to create. They can get you out of here. They can beat Kenjaku. If they have your faith—they have mine, too."
Gojo nuzzles his face against Geto's skin. Some part of him is actually happy that they are going to stay like this for an uncountable amount of time. "I have faith in them. And hey. They can get us out of here. You'll come with me."
"You know I'll be with you whether you'd like it or not," Geto confirms. "This is all you need, sweetheart. Faith. Wait for them. Your faith will guide them."
Gojo blinks at him. "... You just called me sweetheart."
"Mhm. That I did."
"Well, then can I call you darling from now on?"
"Yes."
"Okay, honey-darling-sugar pie-sweetie—"
"Satoru."
"Mm?"
"I love you, too. With you, I can laugh from the bottom of my heart again."
"Suguru!" His face instantly turns red again. "Don't say such embarrassing things!"
"Oh, so you can say embarrassing things and I ca—"
Gojo silences him with a kiss, which doesn't really help, since Geto giggles against his lips.
"Alright, alright. We have time. You'll get used to it eventually."
"Maybe." Gojo lets himself slip from Geto's arms and leans on his lap once again. He smiles when Geto cups his cheek again. He likes it. "You can keep on kissing me though. I'll never say no to that."