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Gojo couldn’t sleep. Megumi was out like a light, snoring softly and Gojo was stuck just staring at the ceiling. Getou didn’t deserve to occupy his mind through all hours of the night like this, but there he was. Popping into Gojo’s head every moment he wasn’t actively thinking of something else.
Quietly, Gojo edged out of the bed. He stopped at the door to look back at Megumi once before closing the door behind him and heading to the kitchen.
He stood and gripped the edge of the counter breathing deeply as he tried to calm his frustration. If there was ever someone he expected to never upset Megumi, it was Getou.
He relayed the fight in his head. Yes, he was probably a bit hard on Getou, but Megumi had needed him and he’d just decided to not show.
Grabbing a glass, Gojo filled it then took a place leaning against the island.
This wasn’t fair. He shouldn’t have to give up Getou. But Megumi was his kid and his kids came first. And if Megumi decided not to forgive Getou, then that was his choice and Gojo would live with it.
Gojo’s entire body started to tense as he thought more about the whole situation.
Before he even realised it, the glass broke in his hand and shattered against the floor. “Shit.” Gojo murmured as he made his way to the sink and turned on the tap, pulling the pieces of glass out of his hand and then running it under the water to make sure it was clean.
He hadn’t even realised he’d been crying until this point, wiping his eyes and sucking in a breath as he pulled out a smaller piece of glass in his palm he’d missed.
What an idiot. Now he’d have to clean up the glass before the kids were up, and Megumi would without a doubt ask about his injured hand.
He’d have to think of an excuse.
———
Megumi woke up in the middle of the night to a loud crash coming from the kitchen. Gojo wasn’t in the bed anymore and his heart instantly raced.
He was scared. He hated being scared. But that loud noise followed by complete silence? What if something bad happened? What if Gojo was hurt? Panicking, he hopped off Gojo’s bed and made his way down the hall, clasping his hands together the way he had practised many times before.
“Demon dog.” He whispered shakily, his white shikigami pup appearing next to him as he hid with his back to the wall, peeking around the corner of the archway to the kitchen. The whole apartment smelled like blood and cursed energy and Megumi shook nervously as he prepared himself for a fight.
He could only see Gojo’s back, the man leaning over the kitchen sink with the water running. He was panting heavily and shaking as he did.
“Satoru-san?” Megumi asked smally and Gojo’s breathing halted for a moment.
He didn’t turn around and sniffed once before responding. “Are you alright, Megumi?” His question was soft. “I didn’t wake you, did I? Sorry if I did.” Megumi released his shikigami and made his way closer to Gojo until the older told him to stop. “Stay there. There’s glass on the floor, it’s not safe.” He finally looked back at Megumi and smiled softly.
Megumi was surprised to see Gojo’s eyes red and puffy, as if he’d been crying and the sorcerer turned off the tap and picked up a towel, covering his hand with it and holding pressure.
“What happened?” He asked cautiously. “You’re bleeding.”
Gojo looked down at his hand and huffed out a half-hearted chuckle. “It’s nothing, Megumi-kun.” He smiled in that false way he tended to do when he wanted to protect Megumi and Tsumiki’s feelings. “I just dropped a glass, that's all.”
“Can I help?” Megumi offered.
With a smile that softened into something a little more genuine, Gojo edged his way around the glass that was on the floor, heading to the living room with a medkit and Megumi trailing behind.
They sat next to one another on the couch.
“First you have to make sure it’s clean. Spray it with the disinfectant, okay?” Nodding, Megumi picked up the disinfectant and sprayed it onto Gojo’s palm. Megumi knew how much this stuff stung, having had many cuts and grazes from playing baseball, but Gojo didn’t even react to the stuff. “Now I’ll hold gauze on it and you can bandage it up, okay?”
With a nod, Megumi began to wrap the clean bandages around Gojo’s dominant hand. “Why were you crying?”
Gojo swallowed. “What do you mean?”
“Your eyes are red. Is it because Suguru-san left?”
“No.” A painfully obvious lie. “Don’t worry about it, alright?” He smiled at Megumi.
“You and Suguru-san like each other a lot, don’t you?” He paused his movements, looking up at Gojo with his wide eyes. “Why did you tell him to leave if you like him so much?”
Gojo frowned. “He made you cry, Megumi. I couldn’t let him stay after that.”
With a loud gulp, Megumi looked back at Gojo's hand, finishing wrapping it up. “You don’t… you don’t have to give things up for me.”
“Yes. I do.”
“No you don’t. I don’t want you to.” He argued as he taped the bandage to itself.
“This looks good. Thank you.” Gojo smiled as he examined Megumi’s work. He met Megumi’s eyes. “It doesn’t matter that you don’t think I should give things up for you. It’s my job to look after you, Megumi. You and your sister. And if that means protecting you from people that make you cry, then that’s what I’ll do. Even if it means giving up something I want.” He said as he softly rested a hand on Megumi’s cheek. “Do you understand?”
Megumi nodded once. “I like Suguru-san.” He said quietly.
Gojo huffed out a soft laugh. “We can talk about him again after he apologises to you. Alright?”
“Alright.” Megumi agreed. Sometimes Gojo surprised him. This was the type of kindness that he didn’t expect to come from the sorcerer when they had first met years ago. He didn’t strike Megumi as the sacrificial type. But he was. For Megumi and Tsumiki, he seemed to sacrifice the world.
———
Getou couldn’t stop pacing. The hall from the elevator to Gojo’s front door was only about ten metres, but Getou must’ve walked at least ten miles pacing back and forth.
They were home – they had to be. It was late and there was nowhere else they would be. He didn’t want to intrude on their Friday night family time, but he had to apologise to Megumi, so what else was he to do?
He hadn’t spoken to Gojo for over a week now. He’d seen him at Jujutsu tech when there were meetings they both had to be at, but Gojo wouldn’t even look his way.
Getou wasn’t surprised by how much he hated Gojo’s silent treatment. The idea of peace and quiet was only appealing when the two weren’t arguing. And he was disappointed whenever they crossed paths and Gojo didn’t even spare him a glance.
He had been replaying the argument in his head since the moment he had left the apartment the previous week and he had concluded two things.
Number one: he was a dick. Not only had he hurt Gojo’s feelings, but he had made Megumi cry. He had deserved to be kicked out. He’d deserved a lot worse than that and he owed both of them an apology.
Number two: he was a coward. He could have apologised to Gojo at any time in the past week. He could have apologised before he’d left that night. But he hadn’t because he was scared.
He was scared of not being forgiven. Of permanently losing Gojo and the Fushiguro’s.
He had been selfish. And he missed the three of them horribly. It wasn’t uncommon that he’d go a week without seeing the siblings, but it was different this time because he wasn’t sure if the next time he saw them would be the last time. After he apologised and spoke to Gojo finally, there was a chance that he’d never get a sense of that domestic bliss again. And he was avoiding speaking to Gojo to avoid that appending reality.
He had to speak to Gojo.
The last few days, Gojo had been out of town. But he was back now and Getou had come all this way. He had come all this way and had spent the past hour pacing up and down the hallway because he was a huge coward.
He turned to pace again but was halted by two delicate hands landing on his shoulders. The strong grip held him steadily even as he jumped a little in surprise.
“Shoko? Sorry, I didn’t even hear the elevator.” He huffed a pathetic chuckle.
“Satoru’s place is that way, Suguru.” Ieiri advised, pointing behind Getou. Getou looked behind him, sighing as he did. “Stop panicking. He’s frustrating even at his best. But when he’s like this, you know as well as I do that he shouldn’t be alone. Even if he wants to be.”
Pushing past him, Ieiri knocked on his front door thrice. She looked back over her shoulder at Getou. “It’s good that it’s you coming to stay with him. He’s had a hard week. And he’s missing you.”
Getou frowned. He had no idea what Ieiri was saying. The sound of her knocks reminded Getou what he was here to do. He gulped nervously. There was no way he could back out now.
Megumi answered the door wearing his coat and shoes, his backpack hanging off his shoulders. There was no light in the apartment behind him and Getou met his eyes, the two of them sharing a confused look. After a few seconds, Getou knelt to the floor, meeting Megumi’s eyeline.
“I owe you an apology.” He said softly. “What I said was cruel and unfair to you. I’m sorry that I hurt your feelings, Megumi.”
The boy nodded once. “It’s okay. I forgive you, Suguru-san.”
Before Getou could speak another word, Tsumiki appeared behind Megumi with her coat and shoes on too, a bag on her shoulders.
The two of them stepped out of the apartment and Getou couldn’t resist it, he pulled the pair in for a hug that they both reciprocated.
“Are you here to stay with Satoru-san?” Tsumiki asked as she pulled away.
Getou nodded. “I came to speak with him, yes. Are you two staying with Shoko tonight?”
Megumi nodded. “Satoru-san has a headache.”
Suddenly it all became clear to Getou. Everything Ieiri had said made sense now. Gojo had once again worked himself to the brink and was suffering because of it. It happened less often these days, but it was still just as bad when he did it.
“Don’t stress him out too much, okay?” Ieiri reminded him as he held one of the kids' hands in each of her own.
Getou nodded once, stepping inside the apartment and closing the door behind him. It was like no one was home, even though Gojo was here somewhere.
Gently, he kicked his shoes off and tip-toed through the apartment, peeking into each room as he looked for Gojo. By process of elimination, he realised Gojo had to be in his own room, probably in bed, so Getou made himself comfortable in the dark and silence, taking a seat on the couch.
Waiting for Gojo here was the only move Getou could think of that was smart. He closed his eyes and waited in silence.
It wasn’t long before Gojo’s bedroom door opened. He didn’t move any further – just opened the door and presumably stood there for far too long before speaking up.
“Go home, Suguru.” He said sharply, finally stumbling down the hall towards the kitchen.
Getou didn’t move. Didn’t respond at all. He just glanced over the back of the couch, watching as Gojo appeared in the archway. “Why are you here?”
“I came to apologise to Megumi.”
“He’s at Shoko’s.”
“I know. I apologised as they were leaving.”
There was a silence. Getou finally took a chance and tried to meet Gojo’s eyes, noticing belatedly that his eyes were covered in bandages. He would usually sport them at the school, but at home, he never had them on.
“Megumi told me you have a headache.” He continued and Gojo hummed.
“Do we have to do this now?”
“What do you need? Let me help you.”
“I don’t want your help.”
Getou had seen Gojo like this a hundred times before. He used to do this to himself all the time in high school. And Getou was always there.
“But you need it,” Getou said knowingly, finally rising to his feet. “The way we always used to, Satoru.”
“No.” Gojo snapped, wincing at the sound of his own raised voice. He rubbed his hand over the bandage, over his eyes. “I can’t do this right now, Suguru.”
“Then let’s not do this.” Getou resoluted. “Sit. I’ll make you some tea and some ramen.”
“I’m not asking for your help.”
“You never do.” Getou retorted as he walked past Gojo towards the kitchen.
“Then just leave. Why would you help me?”
“Because I care about you, you idiot. Now sit down.”
Gojo grasped Getou’s arm and the latter turned back to him, the four-inch gap between them far too big. “I’m capable of looking after myself.” He tried to close the gap further, presumably in an attempt to be intimidating but got dizzy. Wincing through the ache, he stumbled back.
Getou caught him in less than a second, slowly edging him back towards the wall and easing him to the floor.
“Stubborn bastard.”
“You’re one to talk.”
Getou brushed off the response; Gojo’s irritability was guiding his words and Getou had been subject to it before. He crouched next to Gojo quietly, listening to his breathing. It was deep and erratic.
“I’ve told you countless times, whenever you need me you can call me. You should’ve called. I would’ve–”
“You would’ve what? Told me you’d be here only to show up late because you wanted to go and see someone more important to you?” He bit, clearly still pissed about what had happened.
“Satoru, I’m–”
“Don’t.” Gojo interrupted. Getou was stunned silent and Gojo tutted as he shook his head. “You wanna talk? You wanna help me? Then tell me: why do I need an excuse to talk to you? When did we get to the point that I needed to tell you that the kids want to see you, or that I need your help for you to come and see me? You want me to tell you how I feel about you but how can I do that if every time it feels like you’re going to stay, you end up leaving?”
“I don’t– what if I’m not enough for the three of you?” Getou’s voice was quiet. His mind was trying to keep up with Gojo’s words because this was not the way he had thought the conversation would’ve started.
The darkness was a gift now. Getou was certain he wouldn’t be able to stand saying any of this if he could see Gojo’s face in the full light.
“Are you fucking stupid?” Gojo snapped, his voice too loud for his own ears. “You think you’re not enough? Not enough for the two children who fucking adore you? Not enough for me? You know that I’ve loved you for the longest time, so who are you fucking kidding. I’m clearly the one who’s not enough.”
“How the hell can you call me stupid then follow it up with something like that? That’s not true and you know it.”
“Then tell me what is true, Suguru. Tell me why you don’t want me the way I want you!” This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. It wasn’t the way Gojo was supposed to tell him, and this wasn’t the way Getou had planned on responding.
“Wanting to be with you and actually being with you are two different things, Satoru. Being with you means we have something more to lose. Not just for us, but for the kids too. You’re strong, Satoru. The strongest. The only time you ever get hurt is when you do it to yourself. I’m not like that. What happens if one day I walk out that door and never come back.”
Gojo pressed his palms to his eyes, letting out a frustrated groan as he did.
“You think I don’t understand that risk, Suguru? That I don’t realise that loving you is risking losing part of myself with you? You should know that, even now, if you were to one day leave and never return it wouldn’t be any less painful than if you and I were together.”
Getou gently wrapped his hand around Gojo’s wrist, pulling lightly as he tried to stop Gojo from hurting his eyes any more by rubbing them so aggressively. “Satoru, listen to me. I came here to apologise. To both you and Megumi. What I said last week? It wasn’t true, and it really wasn’t fair to you. The three of you are everything to me.”
Gojo stilled and Getou pushed on. “I’m really sorry that I hurt you. But–”
“But.” Gojo huffed out a breath, pulling his wrists from Getou’s grip.
“Satoru…” Getou tried, reaching out again only for Gojo to pull back even further.
“Don’t touch me. Don’t you dare,” Gojo’s voice cracked as he pushed Getou to the side and stood up far too fast. He stumbled over his own feet, catching himself on the wall and leaning back for a moment's rest.
“Satoru, you should really sit down.”
“Oh, shut up.”
“Satoru–”
“No. This isn’t fair. You don’t get to tell me that losing you will hurt more than only having you at arms length.”
“I just want to do right by you. Megumi and Tsumiki have lost so much already and–”
“I know what they’ve lost.” Gojo bit defensively. Getou realised belatedly that that may have come across as accusatory, and he hadn’t meant it that way at all.
“I didn’t mean that, Satoru. You know I didn’t. Sorcerers always die with regrets. I’d rather not be one of yours.”
“I already told you my only regret.” Gojo reminded him, and Getou was thrown back to what Gojo had told him. Thrown back to Gojo regretting not being honest when they were younger. “So don’t regret me, Suguru. Don’t regret the life we could have if you weren’t such a fucking coward.”
Gojo was close to shouting, unable to decide if he was hot or cold and continuously fidgeting with himself, running his hand through his hair or touching his face. The fact that all his senses were overwhelmed was far too obvious, and Getou knew he mustn’t’ve been making it any easier on him.
Taking a step closer, Getou breached Gojo’s personal space again. He reached out a hand and gently rested it on Gojo’s cheek. The sorcerer flinched but didn’t pull away from the touch.
“What if it doesn’t work out?” Getou posed, his voice barely above a whisper.
“What if it does?” Gojo retorted, equally as quiet. “This is the closest people like us can ever get to a normal life, Suguru. And there’s no better kids to raise than Tsumiki and Megumi.”
“I don’t want to have people that will miss me when I die.”
“You screwed that up when you let Shoko and me become your friends in our first year. It was too easy to fall for you, Suguru.”
Too easy.
That was exactly how Getou felt. It was too easy to slip into this life. Too easy to fall in love with Gojo and to love and care for the Fushiguro siblings. Gojo was like a black hole and Getou had been sucked in by the full force of his gravity.
Getou held his breath. The three of them wanted him to be there, and he wanted to be there too. Maybe it could be easy.
Maybe Getou was allowed to be selfish with these three.
“I’m sorry I made such a mess,” Getou whispered, so close that Gojo could feel his breath on his lips.
“You should be.” Gojo agreed. “But I didn’t make it easy for you.”
“Satoru, would you hate me if I–”
The slide of Gojo’s lips against his own was a surprise. It was soft and seamless and lasted all of five seconds before he pulled away. Getou didn’t open his eyes, worried that if he did, the moment would completely fade away and he’d wake up and find that none of it was real.
“I’m tired, Suguru,” Gojo said softly, pulling Getou’s hand from his face. “My head hurts, and I’m so tired.”
“Then let’s get you to bed,” Getou suggested and he guided Gojo to his room, both of them shedding their clothes and sliding into bed next to one another, Gojo instantly finding his head resting on Getou’s chest.
He pulled off the bandages after a few minutes and gently guided Getou’s hand over his eyes, the way they used to do in high school. Getou’s cursed energy always hurt less than anyone else’s, and his hand caused a barrier between Gojo’s vision and any other cursed energy.
Getou had no idea when he finally got to sleep but one thing he was painfully aware of when he woke up was that he was way too hot. The sun was shining harshly through the window when he managed to crack his eyes open and Gojo was still sprawled across his chest.
It wasn’t a sight he’d never seen before, but it hadn’t felt quite like this in years . With a soft inhale, Getou shifted slightly to knock the duvet away from his feet to cool off a little. He had no idea what time it was and he didn’t really care. He was comfortable and Gojo needed this sleep. He was quiet and was taking deep long breaths. He seemed calm – a rarity for the sorcerer.
He lost track of time as he studied the features of Gojo’s face and suddenly the door of Gojo’s bedroom flung open. Getou was fast to bring a finger up to his lips to quiet Megumi and Tsumiki who were both standing there staring at the sight.
“Is Satoru-san okay?” Megumi whispered as he quietly approached.
“I think so,” Getou responded, equally as quiet. “He needs his sleep, though. It was a rough mission for him and he was a little overworked.”
Megumi and Tsumiki both nodded in unison. “Should we make him breakfast?” Tsumiki suggested with a slight tilt in her head.
“That sounds like a good idea.” Getou agreed. “Why don’t you two go and get it started and I’ll join you in a few minutes?”
The two of them bounded out of the room after that, Megumi stopping at the door to look back at Getou for a moment. “Suguru-san?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m glad you’re here.” He flushed slightly as he ran off, not giving Getou an opportunity to respond before he disappeared.
Getou smiled.
This was nice. This was the type of thing he wanted to wake up to every day and Gojo wanted the same thing he did.