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Gojo had been pushing his limits. He knew this and Geto knew, and he knew that Geto knew. But they were on a mission and realistically, asking Gojo to stop it wasn’t realistic in this situation, so Geto waited.
He waited until they had successfully eliminated the curse they had been pursuing for the past few days and checked into a little inn not far from that location. There was only one bed in the room, but it didn’t matter much to them because they didn’t tend to sleep during these missions, it was more of a rest stop while they waited for a window from Jujutsu High to come get them.
“Hey.” Geto murmured, finally deciding to breach the subject.
“Hm?” Gojo turned his head from where he was seated at the windowsill, his blue eyes glowing slightly behind the round sunglasses propped on his nose. Geto was sitting on the other side of the room, in a lumpy old armchair with a stain on it that looked a little too red and smelled a little too metallic.
His friend was beautiful, Geto would never be one to shy away from admitting that (it didn’t have anything to do with the way his heart fluttered around Gojo these days). Gojo was beautiful, with his porcelain skin, with his silky soft locks, white as snow and a blinding smile. And his eyes, oh his eyes, they were breathtaking; so blue and deep, carrying unimaginable power in them. Geto didn’t get to see them as often as he would have liked, the strain proving to be too much for Gojo at this age, but he didn’t doubt that in the future he would be able to control his power far more easily. He only hoped he would be around to witness it.
“You can stop.” Geto said softly, shaking himself out of his daydreaming stupor.
“Stop what?” Gojo cocked his head to the side, raising one perfect eyebrow. He was pretty, but gods sometimes Geto wanted to punch him. Or maybe kiss him. It was all so very confusing.
“Don’t play dumb with me.” Geto leaned backwards on the chair, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Me? Play dumb? I would never!” Gojo gasped dramatically.
“Satoru.”
The call of his given name proved to be enough to break some of the shield wrapped around his best friend. His shoulders seemed to sag a little and he leaned his head back against the wall, sighing deeply. “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“It’s dangerous, Suguru, surely you know that.” Gojo gave him a side-glance with one eye and Geto was graced with the blueness of his eye, peeking through the gap between his glasses.
“It’s not,” Geto insisted. “We exorcised the curse, there’s nothing left here that can harm us.”
“There’s always something that can harm us.” Gojo murmured, but it sounded less like his own thoughts and more like he was parroting a statement that had been ingrained into his mind from a very young age but strict Gojo clan tutors.
“Sure,” The Cursed Spirit manipulator agreed easily, thinking it better to simply agree instead of starting a conversation or a debate. “But you’ve had Infinity up for days, and have you even stopped using the Six Eyes?”
“The practice is good.”
“There’s practice and there’s this. You’re pushing limits you shouldn’t be pushing, not now anyways. Do that in a controlled environment, at Jujutsu High. You’re overexerting yourself, Satoru.” Geto sighed.
“I have to be alert.”
He wasn’t budging. Gojo could be so stubborn sometimes, and usually it wasn’t a problem because the things he was being stubborn about were more endearing than worrying and right now, Geto was really fucking worried for Gojo’s wellbeing. This wasn’t a silly argument about how many sweets the Gojo heir consumed or how smoking cigarettes was bad for Geto and Shoko.
“You don’t have to be the only one watching for trouble,” Geto said gently, carefully. “I’m here too you know? I’ve actually rested, you haven’t. Let me watch for trouble, Satoru. Rest.”
“I can’t,” Gojo said once more but it sounded more insistent this time, tainted with a tinge of desperation and… was that fear he heard in his voice? Geto stood, alarmed, and made his way across the room to sit on the other side of the windowsill from Gojo. “I can’t, Suguru, I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I have to be on guard, I have to keep watching. It doesn’t matter if my eyes hurt, it doesn’t matter if I can’t see you properly right now, it doesn’t matter if I feel like my head it about to split in fucking two, because that’s not that important. I have to keep watching to make sure you’re safe, we’re… safe…” He added as an afterthought.
“You don’t have to do all the work.”
“I do. You don’t have the Six Eyes; you can’t sense anything if it shows up. What if someone comes in and slits your fucking throat and I have to watch you bleed out because I wasn’t keeping watch, because I’m too weak to fight anything right now so the only thing I can do is watch so please, Suguru, please let me be useful to you.”
Gojo’s breath was coming in sharp pants, and his cheeks were flushed as his chest heaved. His fist had clenched around the windowsill in a white-knuckled grip and Geto’s heart ached.
“Oh, Satoru,” He whispered, wanting to hold him so badly but he sensed that was probably not the right thing to do as he was on the brink of having a panic attack. “You’re not weak, you’re not useless. We all need to take breaks. Am I useless and weak when I’m bent over a toilet throwing up after I swallow a curse?”
“No.” Geto choked out.
“So why are you?”
“Because! I have the Six Eyes and Limitless, and I’m the heir to the clan, and I’m the strongest.”
“We’re the strongest, Satoru, or have you forgotten that?” That got a sob out of Gojo and Geto ached. “We, together, are the strongest. You’re not alone, not now and not ever, not if I have anything to say about it.”
“You can’t be sure about that.” Gojo got out through his hitching breaths.
“I will do my utmost to make sure you’re never alone,” Geto said. “We’re in this together, so let me bear some of your burden now, let me watch over you. Rest, Satoru. I won’t let anything hurt you.”
“Do you promise?” Gojo asked, his eyes still partially hidden behind the glasses, but Geto could see the trails of tears on his flushed cheeks.
“I promise,” Geto nodded. “Come on, lay down on the bed. I’ll look for some blankets.” He stood and made his way to the cupboard in the corner of the room while Gojo wiped his hands under his glasses, rubbing the tears away before he kicked his shoes off and flopped down on the bed, letting out a deep sign. His eyes still darted to the door, Geto didn’t doubt he still had the Six Eyes activated.
The dark-haired boy found a ratty blanket in the cupboard and grabbed it, kicking his own shoes off and sitting on the bed, leaning his back against the headboard and stretching his legs out in front of him. He unfolded the blanket and laid it over Gojo before reaching a hesitant hand.
“Can I take them off?” He gestured to the glasses. Gojo hesitated before he gave a little nod and Geto carefully eased the glasses off. The white-haired boy blinked a few times, adjusting to the odd lighting of the room without the shade the sunglasses provided, before he met Geto’s gaze, and the Cursed Spirit manipulator finally got a glimpse at those beautiful eyes. They were red-rimmed and with dark bags under them but to Geto, they looked just as beautiful as they always did.
“Close them,” He urged. “I’m right here, I won’t let anything happen. I promised, didn’t I?”
“Mhm.” Gojo hummed, finally letting his eyes slip. The result was instantaneous, his body sagged against the mattress, practically melting into it and a relieved sigh escaped his lips.
“Sleep, Satoru.”
And Gojo slept.
Warm in the company of his best friend, his sure presence by his side, an overwhelming assurance that nothing bad was going to happen if he was the one watching over him, a safe place personified in a human being, Gojo slept.