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Nanami has realised that you should never agree to anything past midnight. He's sitting up against a wall with his legs crossed and trying not to cough at the smell of Shoko who's just returned from a smoke break. It's difficult but he manages somehow. He's had too much experience by now for anything otherwise.
'I shouldn't have agreed to this.'
He's in only a thin t-shirt and a pair of shorts which he hadn't been planning on wearing outside of his room. Yu knocked on his door with such expectant hope; Nanami couldn't say no and allowed himself to be dragged by the arm into this glorified closet turned study room. It's 2AM and while curfew isn't usually enforced unless they leave school grounds, he's sure at least one of their teachers would deem this as cause for detention.
There's a suffocating heat coming from both sides of him. Geto's pressed against his left and Yu's lounging on his right. Nanami could be tucked into bed, but he chose to be a good friend and look where that got him. He's playing monopoly. He doesn't even like monopoly. There's a lamp beside the dice that's casting enough light for him to see the people around him. It's Shoko's turn, her hand reaching forward to pick at a 'Chance' card with the kind of self-assured nonchalance that can only come with having all of England in your possession.
"'Bank pays you a dividend of $50,"" Shoko says with a increasingly irritating spark of delight on her face. She moves her top hat token forward and revels in receiving her payout from Geto. Nanami figured that if he was going to be dragged out of bed for this then he'd at least win. Shoko has dashed any hopes for that but it could be worse. He looks directly across from him to where Gojo is sitting. Despite the limited space, Gojo looks comfortable, slouched over to study the board. His eyes are brighter than the lamp, looking like two loaded blue bullets in the dark. 'At least Gojo isn't winning.'
It doesn't make him feel much better though. Not since Gojo called dibs on the thimble token. The one that Nanami always uses.
"Your turn Kento-kun," Yu says, with that ever-present bubble of excitement underpinning his voice. Nanami startles, glancing around to see that everyone is waiting for him while he'd been off in his thoughts. He nods, leaning forward to gather the die and casting it onto the linoleum. They clatter for a second before settling.
"Eight," he says, already looking at the place where his token will land. There's a pinch in his cheeks, a frown tugging at the corners of his lips. He doesn't want to but he moves the piece forward to where it lands on Melrose Avenue.
Gojo reaches out his palm in wait of his money. There's a smarmy look of self-satisfaction to his grin and all his teeth glint like new coins. "Pay up, Kento." Nanami's frown only deepens at the use of his given name, not something he had ever permitted nor expected.
"Call me Nanami and I'll give you my money."
Gojo presses his lips into a ridiculous pout. "Haibara-kun calls you Kento."
Nanami shrugs, his shoulders feeling especially bony without his jacket on. "Yu-kun is my friend." At his side, Yu lets out a conflicted puff of air, no doubt feeling bad for Gojo while also happy to have their friendship reaffirmed.
There's a beat wherein Gojo thinks this over before he tilts his head, eyes widening. "What am I then?"
"We're all friends here." Geto claps a hand onto Nanami's back, his voice taking on a gentle mediatory tone as it often does. "But you should respect his wishes and call him Nanami. Before I end up falling asleep."
Gojo opens his mouth in probable protest but when he looks at Geto, he must see something that changes his mind because he smiles again, though this time it holds a hint of strain. "Please, pay up Nanami-kun."
The acquiescence doesn't feel like a victory. Not when Geto hums in contentment, his hand remaining an overbearing weight. Ordinarily it would be a comfort. Nanami feels out-of-sorts and decides that it must be because he's still the one losing. There can be no other reason why he's suddenly resentful of Geto, someone who's always treated his juniors with consideration. So, he grabs a few notes and stuffs them into Gojo's palm. Their fingers graze against each other. Nanami scowls at the smooth expanse of skin that lingers under his touch.
"That wasn't so hard, was it?" Gojo asks, but Shoko elbows him before Nanami can think of a scathing reply.
"You're being more obnoxious than usual, Satoru. It's no fun." She points at Geto with a chipped fingernail. "And it's your turn now so try to catch up."
Geto chimes a cheerful, "Yes, ma'am," while saluting Shoko with his signature genial smile. Nanami mirrors the expression by habit, an automatic response that most people have to Geto. Even in the dark, he's capable of lightening the mood. But Nanami's face falls the moment he hears Gojo snickering. When he looks, Gojo's clearly amused, and he has his eyes fixed on Geto.
Nanami wrinkles his nose, fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt for something to do. There's a buzzing in his pocket. 'A notification this late? He pulls his phone out and brings it closer to his face, squinting at the message.
Shoko: It's okay to have feelings
Shoko: You're only human
Nanami has to read the name twice. He looks at Shoko who's staring down at something in her lap and typing.
Nanami: Why are you texting me when we're a metre apart?
Shoko: I assumed you wouldn't want the others to hear me say this
Nanami: Say what? You're making no sense
Shoko: You need to be nicer to Gojo. It's getting childish
Nanami: He's the one who's being childish
Shoko: ....I feel like there's another reason here
Nanami jumps when Gojo calls out his name. "Who's texting you so late?"
"Does it matter?" The room seems even smaller now and Nanami hunches over to compensate for the lack of privacy. It does very little to help.
Gojo tuts, a poor imitation of Yaga. "I'm just surprised."
Nanami gestures toward Shoko, half-wondering if he should just say it's her. "Shoko-kun is texting someone too."
"Shoko is addicted to her phone. That's nothing new."
Shoko elbows Gojo but he doesn't react. Nanami looks back at his phone screen.
Nanami: You see what I mean?
Shoko: You know what? Maybe you're right :((
Nanami snorts, about to text back when Gojo's voice breaks through his concentration again. "No, really, who is it?" He sounds strange, voice crackling with precise intrusiveness.
"That's none of your business." Nanami turns his phone off and places it beside his knee. Gojo's eyes narrow and follow the movement before he gasps, as theatrical as he can possibly make it.
"Don't tell me...you have a hidden beau!" Gojo's hand flies to cover his mouth in exaggerated shock, though his eyes are still narrowed and as flat as twin ice chips.
"A what?" asks Yu, finally pausing in the mini bidding war he's engaged in with Geto. He turns to Nanami, curious eyes flicking down to look at his phone. Nanami huffs a sharp breath of air, more a warning than anything. But Gojo isn't the type to heed warnings. Of course, he isn't. He never has been.
"I think our dear Nanami is dating someone," Gojo answers in a sing-song voice, wiggling his hands and appearing reminiscent of one of those talk show hosts him and Shoko watch. All it does is make Nanami grit his teeth—a habit his dentist disapproves of but one he can't get rid of with Gojo around.
Yu shakes his head. "I would know if Kento was dating someone. He would tell me." It's truly reassuring to have a friend like Yu, who never stirs up trouble for Nanami. "Although..." Yu pauses, deep in thought and Nanami takes back his previous compliment.
Gojo leans forward slowly, pressing for more details. "...Although, what?"
"Nevermind."
The lack of an ending sets irritation upon Gojo's face and he kisses his teeth. "You're giving me blue balls here Yu."
"Don't be so disgusting," Nanami says.
"You're going to scar them. Don't talk about your balls." Geto throws a die at Gojo in reprimand. He looks serious but there's amusement in his voice.
"I happen to think my balls are—" Whatever Gojo might think about his genitals is never revealed because there's a sudden thud. Shoko has slammed both her hands against the floor, probably hard enough for her palms to be stinging though she shows no sign of pain.
"If you finish that sentence, I'll personally make sure you'll have no use for them in the future." Gojo flinches at the prospect and Shoko takes a moment to collect herself. She plasters a grin on her face. "I'm feeling hungry. Satoru, go get us some snacks." Gojo scrambles to his feet, seemingly eager to gain some distance from Shoko. "Nanami, go with him."
Shoko doesn't leave any room for argument. Nanami can only sigh, rising to follow Gojo into the hallway with a well-worn familiarity. It's nothing new to be ordered about by Shoko. He's only disappointed Yu wasn't ordered out in place of Gojo. Nanami glances into the closet before the door swings shut, just in time to see Shoko snort at something happening on the board while knocking a gentle fist into Yu's arm in admonishment.
They head down the winding hallways, the silence punctuated only by the slap of their slippers atop the wooden floors. Nanami sneaks a glance at his senior and finds himself meeting Gojo's eyes. Gojo comes to a halt at the final turn before the vending machine.
"You're looking at me like I'm something that was dragged off the street."
Nanami resists the urge to apologise, though it's really tempting. "It must be hard not having me worship you. You're not used to it, right? Is that what you mean?"
In front of him, Gojo flounders, his nostrils flaring at the accusation before he regains his footing. "When have I ever given that impression?"
And he could list out half a dozen examples but his mind is flooded with memories of Gojo laughing with Geto, smiling with Geto and never at Nanami. The only interest he seems to take in Nanami is thinking up new ways to push his buttons and so what he ends up saying is, "Even the way you stand is off-putting." Gojo who, up until this point, has been slouching with his hoodie hanging off his shoulders, straightens up, his lips pressing into a straight colourless line.
"The way I stand?" Gojo steps forward once, twice, until he's so close they're sharing body heat. "What's wrong with the way I stand?"
Nanami wants to pull away but he doesn't want to give into the intimidation. "It's obnoxious." Gojo teeters for a moment, his hair falling into his eyes, like clouds obscuring the sky. Then he laughs, as smooth as low rolling hills.
"I really don't get you sometimes," he confesses, voice muffled as he drags a hand over his own face, erasing all traces of exhaustion in the process, leaving only the stain of bemusement.
"There's nothing to get."
"You can't actually believe that." This close up, the faint lines of Gojo's face are visible around his eyes and his mouth from frequent smiling. But his lips downturn, looking a bit too much like scepticism. "I think there's a lot actually."
It's only now that Nanami remembers why they're out here in the first place. He inches away enough to regain some sense of personal space and pretends he doesn't miss the scent of Gojo, all vanilla and warm cedarwood.
Shoko forgot to give us money.' Nanami pats at his pajamas in vain; he already knows he has no money. But Gojo tugs something out of his pocket before brandishing a wallet.
"I've got this," he says, fishing out some loose change before turning and facing the vending machine, until all Nanami can see is the broad expanse of his back.
It's easier to think without Gojo's face searching his own. Nanami considers the moonlight falling into the corridor, the way it highlights the dust in the air and how Gojo seems impenetrable now, closed-off from the world. "Do you just carry your wallet around with you at all times?"
"Shoko gets hungry." Nanami doesn't point out how this isn't an answer. It shouldn't be a surprise that Gojo would do this much. Despite how it seems, he's thoughtful and often reacts with careful deliberation. It must come from carrying the weight of all that expectation. Nanami bites his tongue and stays silent, tapping at his side while Gojo busies himself with the vending machine that always turns slow when it's used for more than one item at a time. Gojo curses under his breath, something bordering on vulgar, though he tries not to be loud about it.
The floor creaks beneath Gojo as he shifts. He's still facing away and clicking the options when he says, "I don't know what's up with you these days but it does hurt me when you treat me like you hate me."
A wave of shame washes over Nanami, hot enough to burn. He raises a hand in protest but drops it so it hangs limply at his side. "I don't hate you."
Gojo snorts. "Could have fooled me."
"You're infuriating but I don't hate you." Nanami hesitates, unable to verbalise why he treats Gojo so harshly sometimes considering he isn't sure himself. He figures that mentioning Gojo gives him heartburn wouldn't be a reasonable answer even if it's the closest thing to truth that he has. "You have my word on that."
The vending machine finally creaks into action and some snacks drop out. Gojo bends to pick them up and turns, pale both from the light and the lack of sleep yet still looking like an unearthly creature. "I like that we're friends, y'know? Even if you did hate me, I'd tolerate it if it meant you talked to me." Gojo looks toward the ceiling, his jaw lax as he thinks something over. But whatever it is, he doesn't say, looking back at Nanami with a soft smile. "Ieri is gonna kill us."
Nanami nods, already expecting to get scolded when they return. Gojo sticks out a hand, much like he did when they were playing monopoly, except this time he dangles a familiar box. "Take this." Nanami accepts it automatically. Gojo doesn't give an explanation and doesn't give Nanami a chance to ask either. "Come on then." And he's walks ahead on his longer legs, speeding in the direction of that hellish closet.
For a moment, Nanami doesn't follow. He just watches him go and inspects the box. Jagariko sticks. Nanami's favourite.
That burning in his chest is back.