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boys r dumb! duh!

Summary:

Blind Man's Bluff was Suguru's idea. He'd been getting sick of video games. Apparently there's more to life than sitting in front of the GameCube. Though judging by how he tied and retied his hair three times during Double Dash, it's more likely he just got sick of losing in specific. Regardless of the reason, it seems like this'll be fun. Not just because Gojo has a hidden advantage but because of what he plans on doing with that advantage.

Or: Gojo uses the Six Eyes to cheat.

Notes:

Just a silly fic. I have a lot of drafts that I'm clearing out. I would have posted it earlier but I was watching the match. We're through to the finals 😁😁

 

The title is from boys r dumb! duh! by Sophie Cates.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Gojo isn't necessarily a liar. He's just not told the whole truth. His glasses might be tinted dark but they're reasonable enough for any human to see through. If the others knew the extent of his sight granted by the Six Eyes, they'd never have let him volunteer. After all, seeing through cotton kind of negates the point of what they're doing.

"Is that tight enough?" Ieiri asks, her fingers skim his scalp absently, observing her handiwork. Gojo blinks, running his hand over the dense material of her scarf wrapped around his head.

"Yeah, it should do," he replies, after a quick test of its give. "Long enough for me to win anyway." There's a puff of air on his neck, Ieiri scoffing but she pats his back once, standing and pulling him up alongside her. Gojo tries his best to emulate what a sightless person might do, keeping his knees bent for balance. It's difficult since he can still see perfectly well enough, his friends scattered around the hall while the dying sunlight paints them orange.

The faculty for both schools have gathered for their annual planning meeting. It's mind numbing stuff, all about recruitment and funding, only sometimes verging on interesting when grade classifications are touched upon. But Gojo hears enough of these details at clan gatherings and is glad the students are kicked out when the nitty-gritty starts to be discussed.

Blind Man's Bluff was Suguru's idea. He'd been getting sick of video games. Apparently there's more to life than sitting in front of the GameCube. Though judging by how he tied and retied his hair three times during Double Dash, it's more likely he just got sick of losing in specific. Regardless of the reason, it seems like this'll be fun. Not just because Gojo has a hidden advantage but because of what he plans on doing with that advantage.

"You good?" Nanami asks, surveying the way Gojo's been teetering from side-to-side, like he's actually on a ship at sea as opposed to standing on solid ground in the dining hall.

Oops, Gojo thinks. I must be laying it on too thick.

"So thoughtful of you to be concerned for me," he replies, putting as much smarm as possible into his voice to distract from the shoddy acting job. "I'm fine though. You should go find a hiding spot." He purposely faces a bit too much to the right, speaking to the air instead of Nanami who simply looks on with a bemused expression.

It would be polite to at least announce his departure but Nanami just turns and walks off, heading to stand beside a stack of chairs which have yet to be put away. Gojo suppresses a pout and continues to stare at the same spot. "Are you going then?" he asks. Then he takes a half-step forward. "Have you gone?" Just for good measure, he furrows his brows, just barely visible above the hem of the scarf. There's a few snickers from around the room.

Rude bastards, Gojo laments, getting into character as best he can. Then there's a soft touch to his elbow.

"Gojo-san, count to fifteen and then start searching." It's Haibara, probably having taken pity on him. "Everyone has already spread out."

"Okay." Gojo grins, the gratitude genuine. "You hide too."

Haibara doesn't need to be told twice, speeding off to stand behind the navy curtains which hide the courtyard. He does well to keep his footsteps light, and the rules of the game dictate that curse energy detection is off-limits. If Gojo actually couldn't see beyond the confines of this makeshift blindfold then he may have struggled to find anyone. As it is, he counts to fifteen, murmuring slowly just to build up the anticipation, a buzz in the room as the others delight in staying silent.

"I'm going to move now," Gojo announces. The hall has fallen into the sort of fraught tension that would be better associated with a high grade mission. It takes a great deal of effort for him to not laugh, stepping forward in a stiff manner, his shoes squeaking against the laminate flooring. "I'll win this in five minutes." Usually there might be collective groans at this but Gojo's elated at the lack of response. They're all bound to listen to him just to have a chance at survival.

He won't overdo it though. Ieiri said he's gotten obnoxious recently and that it's unattractive. Which can't possibly be true but Gojo had spent half the night ruminating on the remark anyway. He doesn't want to risk it. It's not because he's afraid of rejection. That's idiotic to even suggest.

"Who should I go for?" he ponders aloud, stroking at his chin while he continues forward, banging his knee against a table edge, the pain nonexistent due to Infinity. He still makes a face, just to really sell the act. "Ieiri, if I get you, you have to buy me a lolly." He's not anywhere near Ieiri, instead heading in the direction of Utahime. She's balled up small, sat on the top step leading up to the stage which is only used during the Christmas Ball. Gojo doesn't walk directly over, looping around a table, his hand on the tabletop to avoid hitting anything again. The closer he trails, the more her eyes narrow.

It would be funny, he thinks.

He spins once he reaches the stage, both his arms out to capture a victim. But his hands are just a bit too high, missing out on grazing her hair ribbon. If Utahime sighs, then he pretends not to notice it.

"I said five minutes, right?" Gojo says, fully aware that no one will confirm what he already knows. "I'm right on schedule."

Enough dawdling. Gojo pushes his hair back, blowing out a puff of air, fixing his gaze in the general direction of Nanami. He's disconcertingly nonchalant, not even watching Gojo walk. Somehow, his own fingernails appear to be more interesting. When Gojo frowns, it's a true emotion. He's not the attention whore people assume, but he does enjoy some attention. Expecially when it's Nanami on the other end.

Gojo stalks forward, indulging in the way half of Nanami's face is shaded, one eye forced to be darker than the other. He employs the same method as before, slowly feeling out the air with his hands. Now, Nanami does look up, realising he's in danger of being found. But he can't move – another rule to the game. You only get one hiding spot. Which is why it's easy enough for Gojo's hand to coincidentally graze the hem of Nanami's t-shirt.

"Oh?" Gojo says, his voice dripping with faux surprise. "Got you," he whispers, triumphant. As much of a stickler for detail that Nanami is, the idea of losing to Gojo must not sit well with him because he takes a jerky step back, though he's stopped in his tracks by Gojo tightening the hold on his t-shirt.

"Don't leave," Gojo warns, much like a command. "Or you'll forfeit." Nanami's glare is impressive, his lips pressed almost into nothing. But he remains and Gojo takes it as permission to continue. This is why he volunteered in the first place. There's an amendment to the winning condition, one that that Mei Mei suggested. You can only win if you guess who you've caught.

Now that Gojo's got him, tendrils of shyness have his heartbeat stuttering. He lets go of Nanami's waist, brushing up his side with a delicate slip of his index finger. There's static in Gojo's ears, hyperfocused on the blush that's painted Nanami's cheeks while the boy watches Gojo's probing. On a whim, Gojo squeezes the heft of his bicep, more muscle on the limb than what it would appear.

Must be from lifting his sword.

"You're not Haibara then," Gojo jokes, ignoring the indignant gasp from the other side of the hall. He leans down, staring at Nanami from behind the blindfold, looking head-on at sharpness of his nose while grasping the narrow slant of his jaw, tilting it left and right. He may have cheated but it's worth it to be able to press his thumb into the dent of Nanami's chin, all while the boy in question tries to control his breathing and remain quiet. His eyes are so big under the strain, blooming into doe shaped plates, more hazel than straight brown. Gojo wonders what Nanami would do if he crossed the last few inches for a kiss.

Another time.

"We're awfully close Nanami-kun." The moment he offers up his name, Nanami wrenches out of his hold, a scowl marring his face even as a dark blush continues to creep up his throat.

"Well done," Nanami says, in a tone that suggests he'd rather be insulting him. "You win."

The others must realise the match is over because there's a groan, probably from Utahime, and a few cheers too. "I didn't think you could do it," Suguru calls over from where he's hidden, his long limbs folded to fit under a table.

"How could I not recognise my precious kouhai?" Gojo replies, pulling the scarf loose from his head. He's pleased to see that as cold a front as Nanami tries to push, he can no longer seem to meet his gaze, looking somewhere along his cheek in what might be reluctant diffidence. Gojo tries not to be too obvious about his satisfaction, pushing at Nanami's shoulders to turn him around. "Your turn, Nanami."

Nanami drops down into a crouch. It's not at all necessary considering their already existing height difference but Gojo follows suit.

"Tie it well," Mei Mei reminds him, folding her arms while she considers something. "I bet he'll guess wrong." This starts up a familiar bout of bickering. Utahime has linked her arm with Ieiri, both of them sitting on the foosball table, kicking their legs in unison while waiting for the game to resume.

"You're not meant to be betting Mei Mei-san. You know that."

"No offense Utahime, but you're only saying that because you always lose." It's a valid rebuttal on Mei Mei's part but perhaps not the best way to prevent an argument. Suguru steps between the Kyoto students, flashing his signature placating grin. It doesn't work. Gojo tunes out the conversation, thumbing at the back of Nanami's lobe just because he wants to, the scarf already secure.

"Try and find me first, Nanami," he advises, taking in the way that Nanami shivers under his faint touch. "I'll be jealous otherwise."

Nanami stands, looking in his general direction, the length of his jaw flexing with the force of his frown. Gojo finds that this angle is quite flattering, doesn't mind looking up at someone so much if that someone happens to be Nanami.

"I'll make sure to avoid you."

"Whatever you say." If Gojo didn't consider it as going too far, he could draw Nanami toward him by using Blue. Unfortunately, his morals do exist so instead he titters, waving the threat away. He had Nanami in his arms, even if it was for the briefest of encounters. Asking for anything more today would just be greedy. He grins, his sharp teeth bared while he savours the moment.

 

***

 

Almost eight minutes later, Nanami is patting at Suguru's chest while murmuring a tentative "Geto-san?"

Gojo proposes they play a new game post-haste.

Notes:

I hope you enjoyed. This fic marks 400k of collective words. Woo 👍👍