Work Text:
“So” Satoru paused, “what’s your deal?”
Although a dark haired figure sat in front of him, sat tense and jumpy, as if he was ready to pounce, he did not immediately respond to Gojo’s inquiry– mostly because he didn't want to but also because confrontation scared the hell out of him.
The crickets that followed after his words made him quickly second guess himself, he felt the need to clarify. “It’s just… these past few weeks– and I don't know, maybe I'm imagining this– but you've been so off?” Satoru ended his sentence like a question because he himself wasn't really sure of what he was trying to communicate. “Like… You aren’t really talking to me or Shoko anymore, you haven't been eating– and trust me I've noticed, You just seem so negative… it’s different and not in a good way.”
Suguru seemed agitated, he wasn't communicating, he was slipping up on missions, making stupid mistakes he shouldn't have been making still, he was slowly closing himself off, like he was an ancient artifact that wasn't meant to be touched, he was just out of reach at all times– teasing Satoru, telling him he wouldn't be let in, doors that simply wouldn't be unlocked. What bothered Gojo the most was the fact that he didn't know what was wrong, out of all people– he should know what's going on– right? Or is that just selfish? He isn't entitled to Suguru, Geto isn't a possession and he certainly isn't a pet– if he didn't want to speak gojo, then… he didn't have to. He didn't have to do anything he didn't want to because he's his own person, but is it wrong? Is it wrong that satoru is curious and prying for his friends' well being? He didn't have the right but at the same time– in his own selfish and desireful way– he wanted to be that one warm person that knew what was wrong, that could coddle and protect suguru from the harm thrown his way, the one Geto could come to while he uncontrollably sobbed and muttered about all that went wrong– he wanted to be that because he truly believed he'd be the only one in this entire universe that could handle it, that could bare all the weight that was dumped on his best friends shoulders.
Was this weird? Was he being weird? After a few short moments of Gojo’s mind running through all the outcomes and fantasies that soon just sounded like blank status, Suguru cleared his throat.
“I’m just– tired.”
All of that time, and that's all he had to say? That can't be right.
“Thats seriously it?” Gojo retorted, in blatant disbelief. “There must be something else.”
Satoru was so puzzled, he may have just been thinking too hard into this but was Geto intentionally keeping things from him? Not telling him things because he felt like he couldn't? No, there's no way, why would he ever feel like that? Has Satoru done something to make him feel like that? He’d die, simply keel over and die if that was the case, oh God, oh no.
Suguru let a low and weak giggle escape from his lips, letting it out like he needed a laugh desperately. He'd known Satoru for far too long to not know exactly what he was thinking at that exact moment. He brought his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around his own body like a snake. The two boys sat on Suguru's bed, it was late, far too late for suguru personally but he knew gojo was perfectly fine, he didn't sleep much anyway. The nightly routine of the usual lone owls hoots and nocturnal bug chirps felt weirdly quiet tonight and it bothered Geto to no end. The window stayed stagnant while opened, the only thing moving from the light breeze being the sheer and gray curtain that hung ever so gracefully from the pole above. Other than the curtains, the two stayed eerily still, Gojo's eyes not daring to lift from Suguru– Geto’s eyes not daring to flicker from the hole he was burning in the sheets from staring too long.
“I know what you're thinking. I always do, it's kind of a curse but no… it’s nothing more– I'm just tired.”
Suguru finally broke the looming silence, it lifted like a veil.
“Youre burnt-out.” Satoru finished a sentence that was never going to be spoken into existence, but he knew it wanted to be said.
“Yeah. Really burnt-out. I feel like I can't get a break, I'm just constantly running around, I mean we are! And I just wonder if it's worth it… going through this hell for strangers that certainly don't care about us.” Suguru put a cap on it before he spoke too much, he didn’t want to say everything he thought, it probably wouldn't go over well. Instead he watered it down, putting it in nicer words as if he were speaking to a kid.
Satoru pounced, leaping over like a cat to Geto’s feet, listening to every word he spoke very carefully, like scripture– like his life depended on these very sentences. He was finally cracking the “Suguru code”. It felt good to be in the loop, to know what was going on and the method behind these changes, the subtle but noticed changes in his everyday demeanor.
“I get it… I get you. I understand what you're saying.” Satoru eagerly agreed and confirmed. He wasn't thinking about it deeply, he wasn't peeling back the layers like Geto was, he was thinking about it from a very surface level viewpoint like a dense child, but nonetheless, he understood, and honestly– that was good enough for Suguru at this point, anything was good enough.
It felt like an intrusion but Satoru pressed on like he couldn't get enough. “Why didn't you just say that? You've been acting like this for weeks now and I’m only now finding out what is wrong? You know– or at least I hope– I'd never judge you. I only want to help, Suguru.” He spoke quietly, his tone being barely above a whisper while he totally invaded Geto's personal space, leaning against his knees.
“Okay well–... I don't find it to be that easy.” Suguru whimpered, it was a chore to talk about how he felt. “We’re different people. You've got your own ways and so do I, what you find easy– I find hard… it always seems to be that way.”
Suguru sighed with exasperation, he thought back to an hour ago, when gojo first walked for a quick and how he'd “only be bothering him for five minutes” – bullshit. He was annoyed, Geto cherished his moments alone, peace and quiet were good friends of his, he was getting much of that anymore– not with Satoru at his feet.
“You aren't easy to console.”
“I never claimed to be, better yet– I never asked you to console me. You did this to yourself.”
“I only do this because I love you. If you were anyone else I wouldn't give two shits.”
Geto finally seemed to let loose, maybe the weeks of brooding and over-thinking himself to insanity wasn't helping, just maybe he could let gojo in, let him help, let Gojo lift him back up to his normal self. He was tired and overworked like a dog, it wasn't good on his body, he was only seventeen yet he was absorbing negative energy and curses like a vacuum cleaner and it sucked– it rocked his shit, but that's life– it often sucks and there really isn't much you can do about it but complain and move on. Satoru was right, he wasn't easy to console and that's because he didn't want to be consoled, he wanted to be understood and he wanted his cries to be heard and that's something that white haired idiot could do surprisingly well. Suguru shook his head ever so slightly, waving his white flag of surrender and giving in.
“I don’t need pity, I just need you to lay here quietly.” Geto laid back, opening his arms as a warm invite for the boy that sat across from him.
Gojo smirked like the brat he was and laid himself down in Suguru’s embrace, his head just perfectly fitting in the nape of Geto’s neck like puzzle pieces, his scent was addicting– a drug that Gojo couldn't ween off of. The feeling of jet black– to the point of looking dark purple– soft hair falling over his face was something he replayed in his mind constantly, the look of Suguru’s naturally sun-kissed skin somehow still glowing at the wee hours of night, it was all so perfect. He was too big– both mentally and physically– to be cuddling with someone, more so melting over them, overtaking their whole body but it seemed to work, for those two at least. It went quiet again– just how Geto liked it– their bodies sat so close together it felt as if their atoms could pass through each other but obviously they didn't, they just enjoyed the nice warmth each other's body provided to the other.
“Don’t be so sad all the time. You think so much to the point of making yourself sick and it ends up ruining my vibe.”
“Seeing me hurt puts you in pain? How noble and selfless of you.” Geto mock praised.
“I’m being serious, dude!”
“Thanks… For checking up on me."
“Don’t thank me for doing something so trivial, I’d take my own life if it meant you'd be happier.”
Gojo admitted– although he didn't really admit, he promised, declared even, he was being serious, not cheesy, not trying to prove a point but being serious, he'd really do anything for Suguru, not a second thought about it. He cleared a long piece of dark hair out of Geto’s face with his hand so he could get a better view of the eyes he stayed up at night thinking about. People always went on and on about his blue eyes, how they were so beautiful and vibrant but clearly no one had seen this man's eyes, the contrast between the two was like yin and yang, pearly, bright, mono-lidded purple eyes that somehow held every single shade of violet you could think of in one iris– like a pool of color. Geto didn't need a technique, he could hypnotize anyone with those eyes.
“I think you being alive and being here with me would make me happiest.”
Even though this damned world feels like hell for the people who have to bear the weight of it on their backs, paradise has certainly got a spot for them, wherever their special person may be.