Work Text:
"Ewww you should really throw this out, Gojo."
Nobara holds up the old bottle of soy sauce that had been shoved to the back of the fridge.
"It's shelf stable, it's fineeeee" Gojo whines, not looking up from the daikon he's cutting at the kitchen counter.
"The color is all wrong and it expired… in 2007? Why do you still have this?" Nobara scrunches her face in disgust before sliding it in Gojo's direction. He catches it with ease before running his thumb over the worn label. Best by Date: Sept 2007.
It's really been that long huh, Gojo muses. "Well I can't waste the stuff, I'm sure it's fine," he says before opening it up and pouring some directly onto his tongue. Instantly, his face falters and Nobara's eruption of laughter stirs Megumi from the rice he was preparing. In a dash, Gojo launches at the sink. He shoves his head directly under the faucet in an attempt to wash the taste out. Admittedly, he rarely cooks despite having somewhat of an aptitude for it, leaving his fridge often outdated.
"That will cook out right?" garbles Gojo, nearly choking under the pressure of the water.
"You're an idiot, and we're not using that," Megumi says, now at Nobara's side, arms crossed. This is their first Christmas together since Yuji had joined Jujutsu high. Gojo has been wanting to share a meal together and bring some sense of cheer to their lives, which is hard to come by as Jujutsu Sorcerers.
"Nothing a little coconut oil and salt can't fix. Plus, there's still the daikon? and.. the fish!". Gojo begins, still attached to the sink.
"The fish!" They all gasp in unison. Having been left unattended on the grill, their Christmas centerpiece is now burnt beyond recognition.
"Ohhhhh great." Nobara face-palms. "I knew we should have let Yuji cook, we could have had those chicken meatballs. Meatballs!"
Gojo watches the water finish running down the drain, now lost in thought. It's 2018 now, well over a decade since Geto snapped and left. It had been shocking and sudden, but the discontent had surely been brewing for some time. It scares him that he hadn't seen it coming. Maybe if we would have had something more to hold onto, if life wasn't so fucking cruel. He lets his mind wander into the what-ifs he crawls back to every now and then. What if he never left? What if he came back…
"What is wrong with you! That was your job, Megumi," says Nobara.
"My job? You told me if I touched it I'd ruin the whole thing!" Megumi retorts. The two turn on each other in a fury. The altercation rips Gojo from his thoughts, oddly a refreshing change.
"I guess it's a good thing Nanami's bringing some bread,” he says to no one in particular. Nanami, Yuji, Shoko, and hopefully some of the second years are arriving soon, he remembers. Seemingly talking to himself at this point, Gojo continues,"Yes, there's still rice, and daikon, and bread and …"
"… Cigarettes" Shoko adds, now peeking from the doorway. Just in time.
"Gojo I'm truly surprised there's any food at all, I was expecting only dessert like last year." Shoko says, joining Gojo in the kitchen as Megumi and Nobara move their yelling match to the adjacent room.
"They have enough energy as is,” Gojo says defeated, gesturing in the direction of Nobara and Megumi, now unintelligible. Shoko looks over the sorry state of affairs in the kitchen with a quiet smirk.
"Ughhh, I really bungled it didn't I?" Gojo slumps over the kitchen counter, cradling his head in his hands. "Do you think it's too late to make everyone bring cookies?" he adds, looking up with a frown. Shoko laughs, taking a cigarette out from her bag.
"It’s not a big deal, I doubt they expect much to begin with."
"That's why this is a big deal. They don't expect much, they deserve something fun, ya' know?"
"Rice and fish was supposed to be fun?"
"Well, fine... it was supposed to be easy." Gojo shrugs, now staring blindly into the fridge looking for answers.
"Not sure if you heard, but we got intel that Geto has moved back to Tokyo."
"Really?" he says pointedly.
"Yeah, apparently he was spotted here in Shinjuku just last month. After he dissolved the Time Vessel Association eight or so years ago, he's been totally off radar. It's kinda nice we don't have to hunt him down anymore. It makes him easier to forget."
Shoko is right of course. Geto disbanded the group shortly after forming it and since then he's been keeping a low profile, deemed no longer a threat. He has changed yet again. It makes Gojo nauseous thinking about it. He had betrayed everyone he loved for that life, then just gave it up one day? Nonsensical. If he really has changed he'd be back here with him. He lets out a long breath, pulling himself back together, his mind and body slowly feeling less waterlogged.
"Surely just a look alike, if he was back I'd know." Gojo throws his usual charming grin, eager to change the subject "Uhh, so takeout?"
"Works for me," Shoko says casually, now on her way outside for a cig.
Nobara and Megumi have grown quiet at this point. Hoping they didn't overhear the Geto conversation, he calls, "Hey, I'm going to get some food, any requests?"
"Chicken!" He hears unanimously from the other room. They got over the whole fish thing so quickly, if only it was that easy, he thinks.
"Don't be too long. I hate babysitting," Shoko yells after him. The house he leaves behind is as lively as ever, and everyone else will be there soon. Well, not everyone.
"And everything's closed, great," Gojo whispers under his breath, looking at the Closed for the Holidays sign at his favorite local spot. He pulls out his phone looking for any open store. Any restaurant will do. Anything but…
"KFC OPEN THIS HOLIDAY."
It can't be, he thinks. The only open store that sells chicken in a ten mile radius. Before he could overthink it, he walks to the restaurant near Shinjuku Station, The KFC where he last saw him.
"What can I get you?" the girl behind the register asks tiredly.
"Hmmm, can you do five of your extra crispy festive feasts please?" Gojo says. "Extra festive."
"'Kay, that'll be 19,500 yen, anything else?"
Geez, tough crowd. "Nope, that's it." Gojo has his card already whipped out and ready. They had really upped the prices of things since he'd last been there. But other than that, things feel utterly the same. The wobbly table in the front left window, the grease stains on the floor, all sit just as they were a decade ago. If it's this hard for a simple place like this to change, is it even possible for a person to change so drastically? He could never fully accept Geto's defection, which made the news of him dissolving the group that much more impossible to accept. After years of grieving, it's been easier to believe Geto is still evil and never coming back, then it is to accept he has returned and still chose a life without him.
The food is ready in a blink, and he exits the dim shop, keen on rejoining the others. He's working himself up for no reason, everything is the same as it has been, and nobody truly changes.
"Satoru." He hears a call from behind him. That voice hasn't changed, that's for sure.
"Suguru." His own voice on the other hand sounds strained and off. "What are you doing here?" Geto was dressed casually, carrying a bag from the 24/7 bakery down the street.
"Well, I forgot dessert," Geto says, swinging the bag gently. He's handsome in the glow of the night. The paleness of the moon makes him look like a ghost, perhaps it would be better if he was.
"No, what are you doing here, in Tokyo?"
"Oh, the girls, they go to school here now. And you, Satoru? What are you doing here so late?" Geto asks almost too casually. It catches Gojo off guard, but he can't help playing along.
"I kinda fucked up dinner," he says with a grin, now swinging his own bags.
It makes Geto laugh, "You? Fucking something up? I don't believe it, I'm afraid."
Yea, unbelievable. Gojo is thinking the same thing. How the hell is he here? How did he come back without…
"You didn't think to come by?" it comes out too fast. They are practically strangers now after all. Geto's face shows a hint of surprise as he puts his hands into his pockets.
He considers Gojo, "How could I, Satoru. Frankly, I thought you'd never want to see me again."
"Hah! Well, yeah, part of me doesn't, but part of me does." It's confusing, he doesn't want to see him, but he does. He wants to move on, but he can't. Something still remains. Silence lingers on before Geto breaks it.
"And what part am I speaking to now?" Geto asks, closing the gap between them.
"The part that wants to know. If you've really changed, given up all your plans to make a world of only sorcerers. Why you haven't called, why you never came back. Why you came back now."
"Don't get me wrong Satoru, I still dislike monkeys, it's just no longer favorable to kill them anymore. There's just no point." He laughs lightly.
"Huh! Just no point?" Gojo replies, sounding offended. "Look, I'm glad you're not actively murdering people anymore, but I'm finding it hard to believe you've given all that up. What.. just on a whim? After all you left behind?" He doesn't need to elaborate, Geto knows what he really means. After leaving me behind. The cold air does little to disperse the growing tension.
"Its not like that Satoru. I have a family now." His tender words somehow feel like cuts. "My daughters. My business was escalating, and one day I realized I was leading them down the same road I wanted to avoid. Fight for your life and die anyway. They aren't strong like you, Satoru. They wouldn't survive if they suffered like we did. And suddenly it didn't matter anymore, whether or not I got my perfect world, as long as I could protect theirs. No one is allowed to take youth away from young people. I shouldn't have to explain it to you." Geto's words are laced with catharsis. Vulnerability suits him, Gojo thinks, but it is too much to take in all at once. The thought that family has freed him, but that family isn't him. They pause, their breaths mingling gently. "I understand if you can't accept that. And if you want nothing to do with me then I suppose I'll have to accept that too." Geto begins to turn, the sound of plastic cake wrapping crinkling as the bag sways with his steps.
"A cake, that's for birthdays." It's stupid, but Gojo's brain is fried and that's all he can come up with to get him to stop.
Geto's response feigns playfulness, "There wasn't much open this time of night, I had to get creative."
"It looks good," Gojo says. "Perhaps I'll pick one of those up myself. I didn't end up having any for my birthday." There is still more he needs to say, if only the words would find him.
"Ahh, I got the last one. I'm sorry," Geto says. In lieu of any real reaction, Gojos words only put more distance between them. He begins to walk away again, but not without a parting invitation.
"Maybe, if there's anything left," he chimes, a flat smile adorning his face. "Any leftovers I mean, I could bring them by tomorrow."
The cake is a decent size, it's unlikely they could finish the whole thing in one night. "Sure, if there's anything left," Gojo replies and turns to head home himself. Their meeting had been brief, but it gave him a lot to think about. Is there anything left between them? Despite all of his efforts over the years, there was. After all, a love like they had doesn't expire.
When Geto returns, Nanako and Mimiko are already fast asleep. He figured he would have run into Gojo eventually, but he hadn't expected it to be so soon. Gojo wants closure, and that's precisely what has kept Geto from reaching out. Closure is an end, and he doesn't want what little they have left to disappear. While his declarations had gone unanswered, their meeting made it clear that something still remains between them. He had seen the range of emotions on Gojo's face, despite the blindfold. Infinity doesn't help keep moisture off you when it's coming from your own eyes. He had wanted to reach out and touch him at that moment, but the thought of rejection held him back. He might have given up his dream, but he hasn't given up his pride. He takes the cake out and cuts two slices, putting them on a plate for the girls before having a slice’s worth himself. It's fresh and sweet. Seeing him once was already more than enough, he tells himself. And yet he could barely sleep, already impatient to see him again.
The following day
It is approaching 7pm when there is a knock at the door. Gojo swings the door open wide to a cool-headed Geto, cake in hand.
"You actually came by," Gojo says.
"Yes."
"And you brought the cake."
"Yes."
"So, would you like to come in?"
"Yes."
It is all so simple and concise. The exact opposite of how Gojo feels in the moment. They settle in the kitchen which is still a bit disordered from the previous night.
"So, Christmas… Looks like it went well after all?" Geto asks. In truth, the night had gone well, with no mention of his late night rendezvous. But Gojo is too heated for small talk, and all the words he had been lacking the previous day were rushing in all at once.
"You didn't come here so we could talk about dinner. There has to be more to why you returned, so please enlighten me." Gojo says.
"What I told you is the truth, but you're right in that it isn't the full truth." Geto begins to pace the kitchen while Gojo leans against the counter, arms crossed, watching.
"I'm listening."
Geto is slow to speak, each word deliberate like he had thought it out a million times. "I came back because I needed to see you, even if you couldn't meet my gaze. I have to know if anything still remains between us."
"Of course there's something… but I'm not sure I can ever fully trust you again." It has been eating at him all this time. This is more than simply taking back a toxic ex. This is rearranging his own framework of what evils he is willing to accept in the name of love. Is he willing to accept him as he is? He takes his blindfold off and rubs his eyes which now pained him.
"I don't know what more you want from me Gojo, I feel ashamed for not coming back to you sooner. In truth, I've been terrified to find I've truly lost you, that the love you might've had for me is gone entirely." He pauses in front of Gojo, letting all remaining walls fall as he confesses. "I can't ask that you forgive me. I can only hope you'll love me with whatever is left over. If for you that is crumbs, then love me with crumbs."
Crumbs. Gojo's blood pounds in his veins, this is more than crumbs. He's tired of denying himself of what is so painfully obvious. Geto is back, for him. And he is very much still worth fighting for.
"Fuck it, if you think I have only crumbs for you you're insane."
Geto steps in closer, eating up his confession. "At least a full bite then?"
"I need to believe there is something worth moving forward with here. I know I want you. I want this." Pulling some cream off the top of the cake with his finger, Gojo applies it gently on Geto's parting lips.
"So yes, at least a full bite," Gojo says before pulling Geto in for a deep kiss, letting the cream meld between their lips, melting on their tongues. Geto's body responds before he can even think, letting a hand drift to Gojo's waist, the other reaching to cup his face. He tilts Gojo's chin ever-so-slightly before closing his teeth tenderly over Gojo's bottom lip. He had lost the first bite, but he was not about to lose the second.
Their lips were apart for but moments at a time, leaving only to trail other areas — a graze atop Gojo’s clavicle, a gentle kiss on Geto's neck. Gojo’s long lashes tracing everywhere he went, relearning every inch of him.
"Satoru…" He trails off as Gojo finds his lips again, running his tongue over Geto's bottom lip. Their mouths are hot, and their kisses are confident and hungry. It felt so good, he could cry. But he doesn't. He squeezes Gojo's waist a little tighter, eliciting a small moan from Gojo's lips. If they kept going on like this they would be very far past "just a bite" before they knew it. Geto forced himself to pull away, if only to give them both a moment to breathe.
Gojo laughs lightly, “I don't remember you tasting so good.”
"I think it's the cake, really," Geto says. He digs into the cake with a finger.
"That's it, you're making a mess." Gojo strides around the kitchen counter to the back counter drawers that hold the silverware. He sees the expired bottle of soy sauce, still sitting out from the night before.
“Hey, I think we ought to cook something together next time,” he calls over his shoulder.
“Sure, whatever you want,” Geto says.
He tosses the bottle in the trash without another thought. Gojo grabs two forks, making his way back to Geto who was watching him with eager eyes. A fresh start, and boy, was it sweet.
