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“Nanami-san, I think that you and Gojo’s souls are like magnets; do you know those things that stick together and refuse to let go when they touch? Yeah, you two are like that. Soul like magnet, souls magnets, … No, I have it! Soul magnets! That’s what you are!”
Nanami, who had only been tasked with picking up the two Fushiguro siblings from school and taking them home that afternoon, was not ready for those words to come out of little Tsumiki’s mouth - which, he had also noted, didn’t seem to possess the ability to remain silent for extended periods of time.
He had met the children before, of course he had, because despite everything, he and Gojo were still co-workers (albeit reluctantly) and he had nothing against children (and if knowing Gojo made him want to stick around for a bit longer every time he came over, just to make sure they all ate properly, nobody had to know).
The school was close to where the odd family lived together, so instead of bothering Ijichi to come and drive them, Nanami had decided that the walk and commute was fine. It was nearing late, soon 5 o’clock, and the children admittedly looked a bit tired as they waited on the platform for the train, Nanami still without having answered Tsumiki's words, uttered after they left a park they passed through. He took each child in hand, pondering on whether to pick Megumi up in his arms already or not, as the train rolled into the platform.
“Soul magnets, you say,” Nanami thoughtfully said aloud after they boarded, to which Tsumiki enthusiastically nodded her head, pony tailed hair bouncing up and down with the movement, and Megumi silently rolled his eyes with all the sass of a tired 5 year old. “Any special reason?”, he continued as he swooped down to pick up Megumi’s listing body as the train veered slightly, his other hand settling steadying across his sister’s shoulders.
She leaned against him, gripping his pants to keep her balance where they stood on the crowded commute. “Gojo always talks a lot about you, and when he doesn’t, he thinks about you; trust me, I know that stuff -” The little girl said, with about as much confidence as you could expect from a child watching Barbie movies on a regular, topping it off with a meaningful look towards Nanami. “- but when he’s with you, it’s like his brain goes quiet - because he doesn’t have to think about you, you understand - and his soul seems…” Her brows furrowed in concentration, trying to find a good word. “... calm -” She settled on eventually. “- like being with you means his soul doesn’t have to reach for you all the time, like magnets, you know - and so that’s why you are magnets!”
Nanami was again, quite stunned from her observations, and also the fact that she could take another concept and apply it to another situation- this girl was going to become a genius, Nanami was sure (if Gojo didn’t fuck both of them up before that).
“A very astute observation, Tsumiki-san.” He didn’t know what more to say at the moment, because if he thought too much about her words, like how she said Gojo’s soul seemed calm around him, he thinks his brain might fry.
Megumi’s weight against his side, head resting against his shoulder, most likely almost dozed off, and Tsumiki’s little smiling face looking up at him grounded him in the moment and made it feel slightly like his chest would cave in. In most cases, he would assume it was fatal and immediately extract himself from the situation, but years of exposure to Gojo and the flurry of other symptoms Nanami first had thought was a heart attack made him settle with the weight on his chest.
By the time they got home, Nanami could tell Tsumiki was almost as tired as her little brother, but she had stubbornly not asked to be picked up or carried, resolutely holding Nanami’s hand even as her steps slowed down and her feet dragged behind. Megumi was fast asleep on his shoulder, and he tried to be as quiet as he could when he rustled the keys to unlock the door, letting them into the dark bungalow. He let Tsumiki inside first with a gentle hand on her lower back. He closed the door carefully behind him, flipping the light switch to one of the small lamps around for some light.
The sun was almost set outside, even though it was only a little more than half past five in the evening. Gojo wouldn’t be home until late late, he had said. Nanami didn’t need to wait up, just make sure both of them fall asleep, because Megumi sometimes has nightmares, and Tsumiki likes to wander around if she gets restless, okay? Nanami had rolled his eyes and not so secretly believed he could take just as good care of two kids as Gojo, like please ; the man was a walking disaster (but apparently his soul was calm around Nanami). He shook his head, debating on what to do. It wasn’t that late and the kids probably needed to eat something more before bed, but Tsumiki looked very tired and Megumi was already asleep.
Brows furrowing slightly, he toed off his shoes and went into the living room kitchen joined area, flicking some light switches as he went. Going over to the TV, he flicked on the remote, zapping around until he found something decent for the siblings. By then Tsumiki had already leaped up on the couch, settling into the pillows. He lightly shook Megumi awake, heart clenching at his adorable sleepy eyes with hands coming up and rubbing at them, grumbling nonsense under his breath in such a typical Megumi-way. It made his lips curl into a small smile; he couldn’t even help it.
Making his way into the kitchen after Megumi joined his sister on the couch, he opened the fridge with dread and apprehension in his stomach. He had been here before, but when he knew he would be cooking (please don’t ask him about how many times exactly he showed up at the Gojo bungalow to cook food in the middle of the week, because he himself had lost count), he always stopped to buy groceries with him, after catching glimpses of the emptiness and weird substances in there.
Turns out, it wasn’t as bad as he expected it to be. He could work with this. He grabbed the vegetables, some of the cooled sauces, the bacon, eggs and leftover rice and started cooking.
Making fried rice was basically the easiest thing ever; you just cut up the vegetables you wanted, put the rice in a pan (after the green onions were heated of course), add some eggs and stir, then put the vegetables and bacon and some seasoning and then done.
He plated, filled a canister of water and brought the first two plates of food to the couch, setting it on the table. Tsumiki looked at him with wide, sparkly eyes as she said her thanks and Megumi mumbled out something close to the words. When he came back with his own plate and three glasses, they were both munching happily on the warm meal.
It didn’t take them long to eat, but after they finished, both Tsumiki and Megumi insisted on staying up and waiting for Gojo to come home, even though they both looked about ready to pass out. No matter how smart the two of them were, their stubbornness and inability to see what would be best for themselves reminded Nanami that they were only children still - innocent, emotional, childish; worthy of protection. Knowing a lost cause, he instead told them to at least brush their teeth and put on pyjamas so they would be ready for bed whenever Gojo decided to show up- come back, Nanami reminded himself, because this was Gojo’s home, and a home is something you return to.
While the siblings got ready for bed, he washed the dishes and neatly cleaned everything up. He finished just in time to join the two on the couch again, sitting with one Fushiguro on each side of him.
It didn’t take long for them both to fall asleep, heads slumping against Nanami’s side, tiny bodies pressed close and sharing his warmth. (If he stayed a moment or two longer than necessary before carrying them off to bed, nobody was around to see.) Safely tucked in in their respective beds, though sharing a room, he left the door slightly open to hear if any of them woke up.
He then grabbed a glass of water for himself - but not before turning off almost every light in the bungalow - picked up a stray book from the kitchen island and sat to read on the sofa with a little lamp beside him.
He woke to the sound of a door closing, and was disoriented for a moment before remembering his surroundings. He was slumped on the sofa, the book lying beside him in a pathetic heap of surely wrinkled pages because he had apparently fallen asleep mid reading. The exhaustion must have finally caught up to him.
He rubbed his eyes, not in any hurry to move. He watched in the dim light from the small lamp how Gojo moved around, hopping up and down to lose his shoes, pulling a hand through his hair in an almost restless, stressed manner. Why would he be stressed when he was returning home, Nanami wondered absentmindedly. Maybe something had happened. He sat still, watching, observing, anyway. Saw how Gojo hurriedly moved to the siblings room, gently, oh so gently, cracking the door open wider to peek in. Saw some of the tension leaving his shoulders, but his restless demeanour otherwise unchanged.
Then he saw when Gojo noticed him.
Their eyes met over the couch arm rest, Nanami’s squinted with sleep, Gojo’s wide open in surprise.
He hadn’t thought he would stay. Much less be awake. It was evident in the surprise coating his features, lighting up his eyes.
And then the strangest thing happened. As Gojo slowly broke out into one of his obnoxious smirks to hide the open vulnerability written all over, his whole body just. Relaxed. No more tension. No more fidgeting with his hair, the blindfold, how slippery the socks were on the floor. Just - calm.
And Nanami must have been way too tired, but it suddenly felt as if every word Tsumiki had said on their way home before was true. Nanami couldn't find it in himself to mind.
“Nanamin,” even the word as he said it sounded different from this sleep induced revelation, and Nanami even imagined that they had an almost loving tint to them. As much as Gojo’s general inability to do feelings allowed, anyhow.
“Gojo,” came the raspy reply, and Nanami would cringe at his voice if it wasn’t for the look of pure relief and relaxation that came upon Gojo’s face the moment his voice was heard.
“You actually stayed. You waited.” A strong feeling of awe laced the words, making them not mocking, like usual, but Nanami felt as if they were almost to be treasured.
“Yes, I did. Though I would love it if I could go to bed as soon as possible.”
A soft laugh was emitted from Gojo where he stood in between the living room and the hall, with the two siblings sleeping soundly a door down, and a very tired Nanami on his couch.
Gojo felt like the luckiest man on earth.
“Let’s go to bed then,” he said, simple as that, and watched with fascination as Nanami did not protest, argue or question anything, just quietly following him to his room, taking the clothes he was thrown and making his way to the bathroom.
And Nanami supposed that Tsumiki was right in more ways than one, because as soon as he actually thought about it, he noticed how he himself also relaxed around Gojo, how it felt like he could finally be at peace; he didn’t need to worry about the stupidly long limbed man when he was in his company and his muscles just, de-tensed, as soon as Gojo came. He supposed it had always felt relieving, seeing Gojo, but that he had always tried to suppress that, because the whole idea of being relaxed with Gojo in his immediate presence felt fundamentally wrong to him at first. But now that he had had it shoved up in his face by a seven year old, maybe it was time to acknowledge it some more.
(And knowing that Gojo acted the same, consciously or not, helped a lot more than he would like to admit.)
Thus, after he had finished in the bathroom, teeth brushed, shirt left off, cool air chilling his torso, he came up behind Gojo and did something even his sleep ladled, mushy and quiet brain had trouble justifying: he hugged the other man from behind as the blonde was folding clothes by the wardrobe. His bare chest met the soft fabric of Gojo’s worn out, thin undershirt, smelling slightly of sweat and a lot of Gojo scented musk. Nanami rested his head against the taller man’s shoulder blades and squeezed his arms around his waist tight.
Gojo had startled slightly at his touch at first, but then relaxed into it with a light, surprised laugh.
Nanami felt his body relax even further than he thought possible at the sound, and the touch, and the domesticity that he felt, and he decided that he was definitely tired enough to be allowed to sigh in contentment.
As Gojo got ready in the bathroom, Nanami decided it was within his right to check on the siblings one last time for the night.
He gently walked down the corridor and soundlessly opened their door slightly, quickly running his eyes over their unmoving forms, already deep in sleep. With a satisfied nod, he slowly shut the door, leaving it slightly ajar before going back to Gojo’s bedroom and deliciously big, soft bed.
Without waiting for the other, he slid under the smooth covers, leaning back against the fluffy pillows with a content sigh. Felt much better than the couch. The crick in his neck might even go away til morning.
The soft mattress and sheets quickly lulled him into slumber, and sleep was just around the corner when Gojo slid into the bed beside him, slinging an arm around his waist and snuggling close without any hesitation. And Nanami only snuggled back, smiling and nodding to answer Gojo’s whispered “Okay?”.
It was all okay.
It was all perfect.