( oops spoilers ) ( could be set in a nanami lives / gojo lives / sukuna dies au. could be something else entirely. your choice! ) β
[ Something was happening. Nanami wasn't sure what but he'd had awoken from a fairly deep sleep and felt confusion at the edges of his mind as he tried to figure out what exactly woke him up. He was in bed, asleep, arms wrapped around Gojo and spooning him from behind. He was comfortable. But then something in his subconscious had forced him awake from a rather pleasant but mundane dream about sharing a sandwich with Gojo and he couldn't shake the distress from being woken up like that. For a moment, he thought it was the rain outside the windows, coming down in a consistent drizzle and soaking the windows in the process, but soon enough he realized it wasn't.
It was Gojo. He was making noises in his sleep, noises that sounded somewhat distressed and unhappy which set Nanami's entire being on edge. He blinked, confused and then reached a hand up to Gojo's shoulder to shake him lightly. His voice came out low, rough from sleep, but tender still. ]
Satoru, wake up.
[ His other hand moved to comb fingers through wild white hair, trying to soothe Gojo from whatever it was that was haunting him even as he tried to wake him up. He watched him for a long time, just continuing to shake him lightly and pet his hair as he waited for the other man to rise. ]
That's what he always needed to do, wasn't it? Rise. Get back up. They can't keep him down β but that only matters when he's awake, when he's fully in control. Surrendering to sleep means surrendering to dreams, too, and his are not always so kind. His dreams don't always afford him the clarity that he has in his waking moments, when he can liberally be the bombastic force of nature he is, when he can appreciate the simplicity of just being alive, of Nanami being alive, when they both were so close to...not. To never having a chance like this, to capitalize on what went unsaid and unspoken for far too long.
In dreams, he lingers in memories of battles that brought him within an inch of his life, that he only crashed his way through by the skin of his teeth, without the adrenaline and genuine thrill that comes with a well-earned victory. After all, in the end, even Gojo Satoru is only human, and so many close calls leave a mark on the soul, dwelling in shadowed corners of the heart.
...But so do warm, reassuring arms, so do soothing fingers, so do gentle voices, and even before he's fully roused, it's like a comforting blanket is wrapped around his dream-addled mind, easing his trembling frame. His breathing slows, heartbeat steadying to the rhythmic motion of Nanami's fingers in his hair. That's right β he's safe. Safe and sound as he could ever be, and still half-awake, he seeks one of Nanami's hands with his own, to weave their fingers together as he chases the lingering dust of nightmares from his mind. ]
...Sorry. Did I wake you?
[ His eyes remain shut for now, his senses instead focused on the soft sound of Nanami's breathing. ]
[ There are many reasons for Gojo to have nightmares. Hell, there are many reasons for Nanami to have nightmares as well. This isn't the first night that's been interrupted by shadowy regrets and bitter memories haunting their unconscious psyche and forcing them awake. Sometimes it's Nanami, the lingering feeling of Jogo's fire on his skin and making him hurt. Other times it's Gojo, with all the things he has endured burning into the corners of his mind.
Nanami understands that. He never once feels put upon or exasperated at being woken up like this. He only ever understands and does his best to soothe, because Gojo does the same when it's his turn. They're both men with horrors in their past that won't ever go away but that's part of why they've found each other. They've survived, they're survivors, and now they're able to share that with each other. A restless night sleep once in a while is a more than equal trade off.
His fingers lace together with Gojo's, pulled off from his shoulder, and Nanami squeezes back gently before sinking back down on the bed slightly. He keeps himself propped up on one elbow, the hand of that arm buried in Gojo's hair while he continues to gently card his fingers through it. His other hand stays locked together with Gojo's. His breathing is steady, comforting, he doesn't seem upset to have been woken up at all. ]
It's okay. Do you want to tell me what it was about?
[ The nightmare. He doesn't really expect Gojo will want to talk about it, he rarely does, but Nanami always offers all the same. ]
[ No, he doesn't want to talk about it, but that's just it, isn't it? Moments of bare vulnerability like this are difficult for the two of them to come across, when so much of jujutsu sorcery insists they control their emotions, that they channel it for their needs in battle. What's an unburdened heart when that burden could prove the spark they need against an unwieldy foe? And yet that's exactly why these moments are so precious, so crucial. That's why when they take advantage of them, it's all the more meaningful, more personal.
It's something he'll never be perfect at, letting others see him without his plated armor β letting even Nanami see it. There's too much of The Strongest in him, that sometimes Gojo Satoru is overshadowed. But he's working on it, consciously so, and when his partner avails him the opportunity in a moment of utter physical and emotional safety like this one, even his most stalwart of defenses crumbles.
Still...he doesn't answer quite yet, a noncommittal groan easing from his chest as he settles back against Nanami, his head and shoulders turning just enough that he can meet his gaze, and offer a soft, lingering kiss at the corner of his mouth. ]
It was about your bedhead...you look like a mess. [ Another kiss, centered this time, and impossibly fond. ] And...Shinjuku, I guess.
[ True vulnerability is something that may have died with them as teenagers, learning to become jujutsu sorcerers and shedding the parts of them that were ineffective for the cause. Nanami thinks back sometimes to how emotional he was as a teenager, or how emotional he considered himself to be, and how different he is now as the less morose but more stoic man he's become. He likes to think he's a bit more emotionally healthy now, learning boundaries and techniques to organize his emotions in a beneficial way.
Or he's just become a bit of a sociopath, who's to say?
Either way, he reserves a large amount of those softer emotions, that gentleness that he is capable of but doesn't willingly dole out, the empathy that he has for those he cares for, all of it is for Gojo. For when they're alone, for when the older sorcerer can let go just a little and let Nanami take care of him in some way. Like now. He reciprocates the soft kiss Gojo presses to his mouth and lingers in his space afterwards, bumping their noses together in soft affection and continuing to hold his hand, to pet his hair. The teasing only gets an amused huff from Nanami and the slightest curl at the edge of his lips before he focuses on the important part.
Shinjuku. The scene for a lot of the great tragedies of Gojo's life. His confrontation with Geto after the village massacre. The Night Parade of a Hundred Demons. The fight with Sukuna. It could be any number of them, or all of them at once, and it would be justified. Nanami's expression turns to one of concern and he considers. ]
Is this when I remind you you survived? That this is real and you're here, with me?
[ An astonishingly vital reminder, for how close he came to not surviving. Perhaps it's a little hypocritical, for how swift he is to remind Nanami of the tenacity of his own survival, the sheer, unparalleled strength of will, and yet look at his own as simply a miracle. He should be dead, but that's true of them both, so many times over, it's not worth counting anymore.
Maybe that's part of it, too. At some point along the way, he got so used to the notion that he should be dead that it lost all meaning until he actually did die and came back. When he's in top form, he has no issue claiming that as a victory, brushing it off and ignoring the cloying sensation at the back of his brain. But in moments like this...
His snow-white eyelashes fall like a curtain, gaze heavily lidded, focused on the sound of Nanami's voice, of how his chest rumbles as he speaks. This is real and you're here, with me. ]
I've heard that one before. [ Soft, spoken into the intimate space between them, that belongs to them only. Fingers curl tighter into the front of Nanami's pajamas. ] Tell it to my subconscious...
[ It's the one part of himself he can't exercise perfect control. Sure, he could abuse his reverse cursed technique and sleep as little as possible, but that's hardly ideal, and besides...then he'd have to sacrifice these tender moments, and those he isn't willing to give up for the world.
[ It's true, when their situations are reversed, when Nanami is the one left with a rapidly beating heart and a wonder for his survival, Gojo is there to assure him that he deserves it, that he fought for it. It's a reassuring thing to hear for Nanami, to know that he earned his right to still be alive despite everything he's gone through. In spite of everything he's gone through. And so he aims to be just as reassuring for Gojo on nights like these.
But he also knows Gojo sometimes isn't as reassured as he is by the sentiment. Sees his own survival as a fluke rather than a right. Nanami can only say so much to that because it's true in its own way. They're both so lucky to still be here, to have another chance at life and even though they fought for it too β a large part of it is still luck.
At Gojo's words, Nanami lets out an amused huff because he knows how hard it is to convince the deepest, darkest part of you of what's true and what's not. That's why they're here in the first place, isn't it? There's no real shaking it off and moving on. It just gets buried and they grow around it instead.
Then there's his question and before Nanami answers, he lifts his hand from where it's laced with Gojo's fingers and cups his cheek instead. His thumb tenderly strokes his cheek and he leans in to press their mouths together in a sweet, soft kiss for just a moment. When the kiss breaks, he bumps his nose with Gojo's and lingers in his space with a soft sigh. ]
It will. The nightmares will become less frequent. The fear will grip your heart less. It just takes time. One step, then another.
[ There's few abstract concepts that Gojo hates more than luck, and pinning something like their very lives on something as intangible and fleeting as luck feels like a betrayal to everything they've fought for, killed for, almost died for. Yet what else can they call it? It sure as hell isn't divine intervention, and he stopped believing in fate a long time ago. So...luck it is, for lack of a better word, and no matter his distaste for it, he won't take it for granted.
He won't ever take any of this for granted again. For all he teases and pouts and whines to Nanami on a daily basis, it comes from a place of unyielding affection, for him; he's always made himself the biggest problem for the people he loves the most. It's a part of their push and pull, but it's far more deliberate than he lets on β he will never give more than he takes, or take more than he gives. Not when he still has the chance to be happy, to not be alone.
So Nanami's kiss is returned with warmth that speaks of something deeper than Gojo knows how to put into words, that occupies more space within him than Infinity ever could. ]
And then another, and another... [ He adds on, a ghost of a smile on his lips, fleeting. Like a cat, he butts the bridge up against his partner's, slow and affectionate. ] How are you so sure?
[ They're both hardened realists, forced to be, but he likes the sound of it. Of time making things easier. Maybe Nanami is right, and this time...it will be different.
[ Nanami's never viewed himself as much of a caretaker, of someone to go to for comfort. But he finds himself honored when he's in this space with Gojo, when Gojo seeks him out and his company and his comfort. It's been a gift, as part of their relationship, and not one Nanami is keen on squandering. So when Gojo kisses him back and he feels that warmth from him, Nanami only presses back with something of a smile on his lips in return.
When Gojo responds by bumping up into him as well, Nanami just presses another kiss against the corner of his mouth, gives him another nuzzle. There's something so freeing about being able to share his affection with the other man even at nights like these where things feel cold and lonely. If Nanami is able to change that even a little bit for Gojo, he has succeeded.
His question gets an amused huff from Nanami and he lifts a shoulder in a shrug, sinking down against Gojo and nuzzling his face into his hair lightly. Then his head drops against the pillow Gojo is using, sharing it now and letting their eyes meet in the darkness like that. ]
I'm not but ... I only know that the grief has gotten easier for me. I can only hope it will do the same for you.
[ He thinks about Haibara, how angry and scared he was after the other boy died. How it was a big part of why he ran away. Yet the more time passed, the more action he took to feel like he had control over his life again β even returning to being a sorcerer helped β the more he felt like he made his peace with Haibara's death. The more he felt like he could keep moving forward.
Cautiously, quietly, the hand on Gojo's cheek moves to his neck and Nanami scoots forward a little until their noses are almost touching, their eyes making eye contact in the dark. Then, his voice, so tender β ]
[ For sorcerers, time is such a precious commodity, something to be treasured and used wisely, because there's no telling when their time will run out, which moments might be their last. However, that's no longer as true as it once was, and the threats they face have quieted down. It's hard not to get sucked into the cycle of dread, waiting for the other shoe to fall while things look good for the present, but when he thinks about it...they do have time, don't they? Time to heal. Time to spend together. Time to love. Luxuries that are so hard to afford in their line of work, and yet here they are.
Nanami's gaze is piercing, even in the darkness, and his words likewise; a fluttering warmth swells up in Gojo's chest, as it always does when he hears those words. When he's reminded that he's loved β that he's worth loving. There are few things so purely uncomplicated that can cut right to his heart like those three words.
He exhales, silent but for the gentle gust of breath that brushes Nanami's lips. ]
Kento...I love you, too.
[ It's a privilege to tell him, to remind him. He doesn't do it enough, but each time he does, his voice is raw with unfettered affection. He lets his eyes fall shut for a moment, simply...breathing, collecting the remaining vestiges of panic from his nightmare, the fingers of one hand curling into the fabric of his partner's shirt.
[ It was a moment there. A heavy one where their vows of loved were exchanged and held in the moment between them. Nanami continued to hold tenderly to Gojo's neck, to feel the pulse beating underneath his fingertips and feel it slow as the nightmare drifted away from Gojo and he began to come back to himself properly.
Which is why when Gojo breaks the moment with his usual brand of frivolity, Nanami does not get upset. No, he just gives the smallest smile in the dark before pulling back and beginning to push up from the bed. ]
Would you prefer herbal or black tea? Sweet, I presume.
[ He's going to take a moment before he gets out of bed, sitting up in his spot as he is, to run his fingers through Gojo's hair. A soft, gentle caress as he waits for the answer to his question. When he gets it, that's when he'll pull his hand back to move out of the bed, sitting on the edge to get his slippers back on his feet before pushing up from the mattress to start heading to the kitchen. ]
[ Left with such sweet, affectionate touch, Gojo has no recourse but to follow close behind Nanami out of the bed. Funny how someone who spends so much of his life an infinity away from others would be clingy when afforded the opportunity to be so, but in contrast to the playfulness in his tone, he snags Nanami's fingers in his own as he slips off the bed too, rubbing the corner of his palm at his sleep-dusty eyes. It's...so much easier to keep the shadows in their corners like this. ]
Hehe, you spoil me. [ You asked, Gojo!! ] Herbal for me...with the usual.
[ So, yes, sweet, the "usual" being some ungodly number of sugar cubes. Nanami didn't even really need to ask β Gojo would enjoy anything he brewed up for him, but the fact that he asks at all, even when he knows is just like him, isn't it? He's always so attentive, so caring, even if it isn't always in the ways people easily recognize.
Utterly unapologetic, Gojo clings to Nanami's hand as they make their way into the kitchen, his other arm winding around his partner's bicep, head leaning down against his shoulder. ]
Won't make it too hard for you to make it if I stay like this, hm?
[ It's funny because Nanami comes off as the type to draw strict boundaries, to not let anyone too close. But like this, with Gojo winding his fingers through his own and clinging tight to his arm, Nanami doesn't... mind? He doesn't mind at all. In fact, he might even enjoy it though he wouldn't exactly admit that out loud.
So, yes, Gojo barnacles himself to Nanami as they walk through the hall to the kitchen and Nanami only responds by turning his head and brushing his lips against Gojo's forehead as Gojo rests his head against his shoulder. ]
You're fine.
[ There's warmth in Nanami at the blatant affection being shown to him and he just feels pleased by it. He'll take it slow as he moves around the kitchen as a result, not wanting to dislodge Gojo. He moves to fill up with the electric kettle and get two mugs down from the cabinet along with the tea and the little jar of sugar cubes that is just for Gojo.
When he's done and just waiting for the water to boil, he'll just stand there, his head leaning against Gojo's as they wait together. ]
Hm...not in the mood to push me away by the face? You are feelin' soft tonight.
[ As though Gojo himself isn't feeling equally as soft, but unlike Nanami, he wears his aloofness differently. Nanami is structured and formal, Gojo chaotic and personal, yet he never let anyone too close, either. Well...most anyone. There are those who were already close to him before his walls went up, those who understood who he was, and who he is now. Maybe Nanami didn't always voluntarily sit in that seat, but he does so now. He stays, because he wants to, not out of some sense of obligation.
He's choosing to let Gojo close, to cling to him, and it means more than Gojo knows how to put into words. He's always been much better at expressing himself like this, anyway, with action.
His lips part to say something else, but he refrains, for once letting the peaceful silence settle like a blanket around them, listening only to the sound of Nanami's breathing, the rhythm of his heart.
It's nice to appreciate the quiet every now and again, too. ]
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kicks this post off with some good ol h/c
( oops spoilers )
( could be set in a nanami lives / gojo lives / sukuna dies au. could be something else entirely. your choice! )
β
[ Something was happening. Nanami wasn't sure what but he'd had awoken from a fairly deep sleep and felt confusion at the edges of his mind as he tried to figure out what exactly woke him up. He was in bed, asleep, arms wrapped around Gojo and spooning him from behind. He was comfortable. But then something in his subconscious had forced him awake from a rather pleasant but mundane dream about sharing a sandwich with Gojo and he couldn't shake the distress from being woken up like that. For a moment, he thought it was the rain outside the windows, coming down in a consistent drizzle and soaking the windows in the process, but soon enough he realized it wasn't.
It was Gojo. He was making noises in his sleep, noises that sounded somewhat distressed and unhappy which set Nanami's entire being on edge. He blinked, confused and then reached a hand up to Gojo's shoulder to shake him lightly. His voice came out low, rough from sleep, but tender still. ]
Satoru, wake up.
[ His other hand moved to comb fingers through wild white hair, trying to soothe Gojo from whatever it was that was haunting him even as he tried to wake him up. He watched him for a long time, just continuing to shake him lightly and pet his hair as he waited for the other man to rise. ]
no subject
That's what he always needed to do, wasn't it? Rise. Get back up. They can't keep him down β but that only matters when he's awake, when he's fully in control. Surrendering to sleep means surrendering to dreams, too, and his are not always so kind. His dreams don't always afford him the clarity that he has in his waking moments, when he can liberally be the bombastic force of nature he is, when he can appreciate the simplicity of just being alive, of Nanami being alive, when they both were so close to...not. To never having a chance like this, to capitalize on what went unsaid and unspoken for far too long.
In dreams, he lingers in memories of battles that brought him within an inch of his life, that he only crashed his way through by the skin of his teeth, without the adrenaline and genuine thrill that comes with a well-earned victory. After all, in the end, even Gojo Satoru is only human, and so many close calls leave a mark on the soul, dwelling in shadowed corners of the heart.
...But so do warm, reassuring arms, so do soothing fingers, so do gentle voices, and even before he's fully roused, it's like a comforting blanket is wrapped around his dream-addled mind, easing his trembling frame. His breathing slows, heartbeat steadying to the rhythmic motion of Nanami's fingers in his hair. That's right β he's safe. Safe and sound as he could ever be, and still half-awake, he seeks one of Nanami's hands with his own, to weave their fingers together as he chases the lingering dust of nightmares from his mind. ]
...Sorry. Did I wake you?
[ His eyes remain shut for now, his senses instead focused on the soft sound of Nanami's breathing. ]
no subject
Nanami understands that. He never once feels put upon or exasperated at being woken up like this. He only ever understands and does his best to soothe, because Gojo does the same when it's his turn. They're both men with horrors in their past that won't ever go away but that's part of why they've found each other. They've survived, they're survivors, and now they're able to share that with each other. A restless night sleep once in a while is a more than equal trade off.
His fingers lace together with Gojo's, pulled off from his shoulder, and Nanami squeezes back gently before sinking back down on the bed slightly. He keeps himself propped up on one elbow, the hand of that arm buried in Gojo's hair while he continues to gently card his fingers through it. His other hand stays locked together with Gojo's. His breathing is steady, comforting, he doesn't seem upset to have been woken up at all. ]
It's okay. Do you want to tell me what it was about?
[ The nightmare. He doesn't really expect Gojo will want to talk about it, he rarely does, but Nanami always offers all the same. ]
no subject
It's something he'll never be perfect at, letting others see him without his plated armor β letting even Nanami see it. There's too much of The Strongest in him, that sometimes Gojo Satoru is overshadowed. But he's working on it, consciously so, and when his partner avails him the opportunity in a moment of utter physical and emotional safety like this one, even his most stalwart of defenses crumbles.
Still...he doesn't answer quite yet, a noncommittal groan easing from his chest as he settles back against Nanami, his head and shoulders turning just enough that he can meet his gaze, and offer a soft, lingering kiss at the corner of his mouth. ]
It was about your bedhead...you look like a mess. [ Another kiss, centered this time, and impossibly fond. ] And...Shinjuku, I guess.
[ "I guess", like that's the after-thought. ]
no subject
Or he's just become a bit of a sociopath, who's to say?
Either way, he reserves a large amount of those softer emotions, that gentleness that he is capable of but doesn't willingly dole out, the empathy that he has for those he cares for, all of it is for Gojo. For when they're alone, for when the older sorcerer can let go just a little and let Nanami take care of him in some way. Like now. He reciprocates the soft kiss Gojo presses to his mouth and lingers in his space afterwards, bumping their noses together in soft affection and continuing to hold his hand, to pet his hair. The teasing only gets an amused huff from Nanami and the slightest curl at the edge of his lips before he focuses on the important part.
Shinjuku. The scene for a lot of the great tragedies of Gojo's life. His confrontation with Geto after the village massacre. The Night Parade of a Hundred Demons. The fight with Sukuna. It could be any number of them, or all of them at once, and it would be justified. Nanami's expression turns to one of concern and he considers. ]
Is this when I remind you you survived? That this is real and you're here, with me?
no subject
Maybe that's part of it, too. At some point along the way, he got so used to the notion that he should be dead that it lost all meaning until he actually did die and came back. When he's in top form, he has no issue claiming that as a victory, brushing it off and ignoring the cloying sensation at the back of his brain. But in moments like this...
His snow-white eyelashes fall like a curtain, gaze heavily lidded, focused on the sound of Nanami's voice, of how his chest rumbles as he speaks. This is real and you're here, with me. ]
I've heard that one before. [ Soft, spoken into the intimate space between them, that belongs to them only. Fingers curl tighter into the front of Nanami's pajamas. ] Tell it to my subconscious...
[ It's the one part of himself he can't exercise perfect control. Sure, he could abuse his reverse cursed technique and sleep as little as possible, but that's hardly ideal, and besides...then he'd have to sacrifice these tender moments, and those he isn't willing to give up for the world.
Quieter stillβ ]
It's never gonna get easier. Is it?
no subject
But he also knows Gojo sometimes isn't as reassured as he is by the sentiment. Sees his own survival as a fluke rather than a right. Nanami can only say so much to that because it's true in its own way. They're both so lucky to still be here, to have another chance at life and even though they fought for it too β a large part of it is still luck.
At Gojo's words, Nanami lets out an amused huff because he knows how hard it is to convince the deepest, darkest part of you of what's true and what's not. That's why they're here in the first place, isn't it? There's no real shaking it off and moving on. It just gets buried and they grow around it instead.
Then there's his question and before Nanami answers, he lifts his hand from where it's laced with Gojo's fingers and cups his cheek instead. His thumb tenderly strokes his cheek and he leans in to press their mouths together in a sweet, soft kiss for just a moment. When the kiss breaks, he bumps his nose with Gojo's and lingers in his space with a soft sigh. ]
It will. The nightmares will become less frequent. The fear will grip your heart less. It just takes time. One step, then another.
no subject
He won't ever take any of this for granted again. For all he teases and pouts and whines to Nanami on a daily basis, it comes from a place of unyielding affection, for him; he's always made himself the biggest problem for the people he loves the most. It's a part of their push and pull, but it's far more deliberate than he lets on β he will never give more than he takes, or take more than he gives. Not when he still has the chance to be happy, to not be alone.
So Nanami's kiss is returned with warmth that speaks of something deeper than Gojo knows how to put into words, that occupies more space within him than Infinity ever could. ]
And then another, and another... [ He adds on, a ghost of a smile on his lips, fleeting. Like a cat, he butts the bridge up against his partner's, slow and affectionate. ] How are you so sure?
[ They're both hardened realists, forced to be, but he likes the sound of it. Of time making things easier. Maybe Nanami is right, and this time...it will be different.
(It's already different, with Nanami here.) ]
no subject
When Gojo responds by bumping up into him as well, Nanami just presses another kiss against the corner of his mouth, gives him another nuzzle. There's something so freeing about being able to share his affection with the other man even at nights like these where things feel cold and lonely. If Nanami is able to change that even a little bit for Gojo, he has succeeded.
His question gets an amused huff from Nanami and he lifts a shoulder in a shrug, sinking down against Gojo and nuzzling his face into his hair lightly. Then his head drops against the pillow Gojo is using, sharing it now and letting their eyes meet in the darkness like that. ]
I'm not but ... I only know that the grief has gotten easier for me. I can only hope it will do the same for you.
[ He thinks about Haibara, how angry and scared he was after the other boy died. How it was a big part of why he ran away. Yet the more time passed, the more action he took to feel like he had control over his life again β even returning to being a sorcerer helped β the more he felt like he made his peace with Haibara's death. The more he felt like he could keep moving forward.
Cautiously, quietly, the hand on Gojo's cheek moves to his neck and Nanami scoots forward a little until their noses are almost touching, their eyes making eye contact in the dark. Then, his voice, so tender β ]
I love you, Satoru.
no subject
Nanami's gaze is piercing, even in the darkness, and his words likewise; a fluttering warmth swells up in Gojo's chest, as it always does when he hears those words. When he's reminded that he's loved β that he's worth loving. There are few things so purely uncomplicated that can cut right to his heart like those three words.
He exhales, silent but for the gentle gust of breath that brushes Nanami's lips. ]
Kento...I love you, too.
[ It's a privilege to tell him, to remind him. He doesn't do it enough, but each time he does, his voice is raw with unfettered affection. He lets his eyes fall shut for a moment, simply...breathing, collecting the remaining vestiges of panic from his nightmare, the fingers of one hand curling into the fabric of his partner's shirt.
And then, breaking the silence again β ]
Sweet pookie pie...will you make me some tea?
[ :3 ]
what if i come back here huh what if
Which is why when Gojo breaks the moment with his usual brand of frivolity, Nanami does not get upset. No, he just gives the smallest smile in the dark before pulling back and beginning to push up from the bed. ]
Would you prefer herbal or black tea? Sweet, I presume.
[ He's going to take a moment before he gets out of bed, sitting up in his spot as he is, to run his fingers through Gojo's hair. A soft, gentle caress as he waits for the answer to his question. When he gets it, that's when he'll pull his hand back to move out of the bed, sitting on the edge to get his slippers back on his feet before pushing up from the mattress to start heading to the kitchen. ]
what if i come back here EVEN LATER
Hehe, you spoil me. [ You asked, Gojo!! ] Herbal for me...with the usual.
[ So, yes, sweet, the "usual" being some ungodly number of sugar cubes. Nanami didn't even really need to ask β Gojo would enjoy anything he brewed up for him, but the fact that he asks at all, even when he knows is just like him, isn't it? He's always so attentive, so caring, even if it isn't always in the ways people easily recognize.
Utterly unapologetic, Gojo clings to Nanami's hand as they make their way into the kitchen, his other arm winding around his partner's bicep, head leaning down against his shoulder. ]
Won't make it too hard for you to make it if I stay like this, hm?
[ Like a barnacle??? ]
we're winning at this we are
So, yes, Gojo barnacles himself to Nanami as they walk through the hall to the kitchen and Nanami only responds by turning his head and brushing his lips against Gojo's forehead as Gojo rests his head against his shoulder. ]
You're fine.
[ There's warmth in Nanami at the blatant affection being shown to him and he just feels pleased by it. He'll take it slow as he moves around the kitchen as a result, not wanting to dislodge Gojo. He moves to fill up with the electric kettle and get two mugs down from the cabinet along with the tea and the little jar of sugar cubes that is just for Gojo.
When he's done and just waiting for the water to boil, he'll just stand there, his head leaning against Gojo's as they wait together. ]
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[ As though Gojo himself isn't feeling equally as soft, but unlike Nanami, he wears his aloofness differently. Nanami is structured and formal, Gojo chaotic and personal, yet he never let anyone too close, either. Well...most anyone. There are those who were already close to him before his walls went up, those who understood who he was, and who he is now. Maybe Nanami didn't always voluntarily sit in that seat, but he does so now. He stays, because he wants to, not out of some sense of obligation.
He's choosing to let Gojo close, to cling to him, and it means more than Gojo knows how to put into words. He's always been much better at expressing himself like this, anyway, with action.
His lips part to say something else, but he refrains, for once letting the peaceful silence settle like a blanket around them, listening only to the sound of Nanami's breathing, the rhythm of his heart.
It's nice to appreciate the quiet every now and again, too. ]