Chapter Text
It was weird with just the four of them. The jujutsu world was small, certainly, but having just a four-person group of colleagues out for drinks was wildly different from what Nanami had gotten used to at his office.
It was his first time seeing Gojo drunk, too, which was a sight unto itself. Gojo had spent the night alternating between stealing food from the others, showing them pictures on his phone, and resting his head on Ieiri’s shoulder while loudly telling stories about his students. It was a good thing Principal Yaga had arranged a private room.
Still, Nanami wasn’t totally sure why he was there. He didn’t come back to the jujutsu world for the camaraderie, or to teach, or to heal. Other than his basic jujutsu abilities, he had little in common with the other three.
Every time he saw Gojo order another drink, though, he had to fight back a wriggling unease that grew in his chest. They had barely seen each other since Gojo had graduated, since he was always off on missions by himself. His flyaway hair had grown slightly longer, but he obviously still kept it trimmed. Nanami had heard something about Gojo using bandages instead of sunglasses in recent months, but had yet to see it himself, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. The sunglasses looked nice, even if they were out of place indoors just like his own.
Gojo’s jacket was halfway unzipped, showing a loose-fitting t-shirt underneath. Nanami had on his tie and a blue button-down as usual, but had ditched his jacket and as soon as the waitresses had finished bringing food and drinks by. For the first time in years, he felt a tiny bit anxious about being overdressed.
Yaga asked for the check around 1 a.m., just as Gojo’s eyes were starting to droop shut. “Hey, Nanamin, is it your first time hanging out with us, like, ever?” Gojo mumbled, his blue eyes twinkling over his sunglasses.
Nanami nodded. “Yes.”
“So we gotta do an after-party, right, Shoko?” Gojo sat up and flung one arm into the air, nearly hitting Ieiri in the head. “I vote for karaoke! Either that, or darts!”
“You are in no state to be throwing darts.” Nanami couldn’t help but smile as he finished the last of his wine.
“Karaoke, then!”
“I think you need to sleep,” Ieiri said
Gojo’s mouth twitched, but he didn’t quite frown. “Don’t need to.”
“Just because you’re the strongest sorcerer in the world doesn’t mean you can’t benefit from a good night’s rest.”
The words came out casually, but Nanami froze when he realized Ieiri and Gojo were both staring at him. “You've always been one of the most sensible students to ever come out of our school,” Ieiri said, smiling.
Gojo stuck his tongue out as a smirk played at his lips’ corners. “If only you would become a teacher and actually put that sensibility to good use, Nanamin!”
A few sharp retorts rolled around in Nanami’s mind, but he didn’t feel compelled to say them. Instead, he watched the smirk on Gojo’s face for as long as he could, for reasons he didn’t quite understand.
Yaga paid the check, and when they had said their formal goodbyes outside, Nanami offered to walk Ieiri to the train. “It’s the same direction as my apartment, although it’s actually faster for me to walk than take the train from here,” Nanami said.
Ieiri smiled her usual faint smile until Gojo leaned over her shoulder. “She’s off the market, Nanamin! Her and Utahime are--”
Ieiri swung at Gojo’s face, but his Infinity blocked it. Nanami tuned them both out as he took a deep breath to fight a creeping blush.
“Anyway, I’m in the same direction, too!” Gojo said as he turned on his heel. “Let’s go--”
“Huh? Since when?” Ieiri said.
“I move all the time for my own protection!”
They headed down the street, with Nanami taking up the rear as the other two argued and stumbled around. For a moment, Gojo appeared to trip over a step in front of a store, and Nanami took two hurried steps toward him before Gojo straightened himself up.
Nanami had put his jacket back on as they left the restaurant, and he could feel a tiny bit of sweat building at the base of his neck. He loosened his tie and undid his top button just as Gojo twirled around in the middle of some joke.
Gojo slowed, his eyes raking the skin just above Nanami's collarbones. Even in the amber streetlights and with sunglasses on, his gaze shone bright blue, giving it away instantly.
But then the moment was gone as the three of them hurried to cross the street. Nanami might have imagined it, thanks to the influence of the alcohol. Half a block later, they were at the train station, and Ieiri bid them farewell and headed down the stairs.
Nanami waited for Gojo to follow her, but he didn’t. Instead, Gojo straightened up and stretched. “Which way are you, Nanamin?”
“I’ll be continuing this direction.”
“Oh, good, me too!”
There was something off about the way Gojo had said that, but Nanami pushed the thought aside as they walked. He’d had three glasses of wine - more than usual, but certainly not enough to make him drunk. Gojo, on the other hand, looked like he might run into a tree if he took his eyes off the path ahead of him for a split second.
“Shit, I’m tired,” Gojo said, stretching again. He took a clumsy step to the left, nearly colliding with a bus shelter.
Nanami darted sideways and tried to pull the white-haired man closer, but Gojo had already stumbled into one of the metal supports. There was a dull thud as Infinity protected him, and a soft yelp as Gojo’s ass hit the ground.
“Sorry,” Nanami said, even though none of it was really his fault. “Are you okay?”
He reached down to offer a hand. Gojo grinned, grabbed his hand, and pulled himself to his feet in a swift motion that nearly dragged Nanami down on top of him.
“I’m fine, I’m fine! Infinity cushioned the worst of it!” Gojo said as his body nearly collided with Nanami's.
Nanami felt something around his neck and shoulders. The faint press of cool air told him it wasn’t quite Gojo’s arm. “Lower your Infinity so you can actually lean on me properly,” Nanami murmured.
He felt Gojo’s gaze fix on the side of his head, and then, with a warmth that felt like it could melt glaciers, Gojo’s body rested against his.
“Please be more careful,” Nanami said as he took a cautious step forward.
“I’m tired of walking,” Gojo whined. “Can I stay at your place?”
Nanami whipped his head to one side and found his nose barely an inch from Gojo’s. He could smell alcohol on Gojo’s breath, but his expression was alert and borderlined on hopeful.
“You said your place was close,” Nanami said as he began walking.
“I wanted an afterparty…”
“Well, you’re not getting one at my place!”
Gojo let out a low hum of disappointment. The atmosphere shifted, and the unease Nanami had felt earlier returned. The night was chilly, but there was still sweat building underneath his jacket.
Then again, he wasn’t sure he minded he added heat from Gojo. He stole another glance sideways, but Gojo’s eyes were hidden behind a chunk of hair.
There was a tiny, fleeting urge in Nanami’s fingers, but he stilled them. He wanted to brush the hair away and bring the white-framed blues back into the light.
He stopped and looked up as he realized he was outside his apartment building. Gojo took the hint before Nanami could even say anything and unwound himself from around Nanami’s shoulders. “Thanks for the company,” Gojo said, waving casually. “I’ll probably catch you--”
Nanami realized too late that Gojo’s foot had missed the edge of the curb. Gojo rolled into the street, which was thankfully deserted, and stumbled back upright after Infinity had broken his fall. “Shit,” Gojo muttered as he brushed dirt off his pants. “I’m not very sharp when I’m drunk--”
“Get inside,” Nanami hissed as he stepped to the curb and held out a hand.
For a split second, Gojo’s lips tightened in a way Nanami couldn’t understand. It wasn’t quite chagrin, but it wasn’t quite a smirk, either. Whatever it was, though, made Nanami’s chest flush with heat, and he watched those lips as they spread into a smile.
“Sorry, Nanamin,” Gojo said as he took his hand and stepped back onto the sidewalk. “Made you worry, didn’t I?”
Nanami’s reply froze in his throat as he pulled Gojo toward the massive apartment building. He swiped his keycard at the entrance, pressed the elevator call button, and let go of Gojo’s hand. “What floor are you on?” Gojo asked as he looked around the well-decorated lobby.
“Eighteen.”
“Is that a penthouse or something?!”
Nanami felt a smile slip out. “No.”
The elevator doors slid open silently, and when they entered, Nanami pressed the button for the 18th floor. He leaned against the wall, feeling keenly aware of how the two of them were alone for the first time that night.
He avoided Gojo’s gaze, but Gojo leaned against the wall next to him and bent down to rest his head on Nanami’s shoulder, much like he had done to Ieiri at the restaurant. Nanami stiffened, but reminded himself that this was just how Gojo was. It was best to just treat it like it was: a playful, meaningless thing.
“Gojo,” he said, tilting his head away.
“What?” Gojo turned his head, bringing his lips much closer to Nanami’s neck. “Is my hair ticklish?”
It was, but what really got Nanami’s attention was the way warm breath suddenly played against his pulse point. He glanced down at Gojo’s legs, which were splayed outward to make himself shorter and allow him to rest his head more comfortably. It still didn’t look that comfortable, though.
But Nanami held his breath. Somehow, the moment felt like a spell, or maybe the inside of a cursed domain - a blessed domain, rather, but he would never admit that out loud. It was a surreal yet heavy sensation that he wished he could have experienced sooner.
And he could have, he realized with a sinking jolt, if he would've come back to his sorcerer duties earlier.
Gojo shifted his head again, this time tickling his nose against Nanami’s neck. The amount of weight leaning on Nanami increased, but he didn’t dare move. “Nanamin,” Gojo whispered.
Strong fingers grazed the underside of Nanami’s chin. Heat shot into his abdomen, but it was tempered by that same faint unease that had haunted him all night.
Since Suguru Getou’s departure, Satoru Gojo had always put up a facade almost as strong as his Infinity. Everyone knew that. No one talked about it.
So what feelings were happening - if they were happening - were somewhere between the truth and a lie.
Nanami turned his head partway toward Gojo’s, and the fingers tightened their grip. The sense of unease morphed and grew molten, burning his lungs and making him swallow hard. Maybe it had never been unease to begin with, though, he thought as his eyes lingered on Gojo’s for a second longer than he intended. “Gojo--”
“Sa-to-ru,” Gojo corrected.
Nanami bit his lip and looked away. He didn’t want to move.
The elevator dinged, sending a quiver through his heart. He pulled away and motioned for Gojo to follow. There was a soft, reluctant sigh before light footsteps followed him.
Nanami paused outside his apartment door to fumble with his keys. He normally had them out and ready before even exiting the elevator - a healthy precaution that he’d learned before even graduating - but Gojo’s presence was throwing everything off.
Gojo remained a few feet away with his hands in his pockets, but Nanami could feel an unwavering gaze that seemed to deliver heat despite the icy blues behind it. When the front door was finally open, Nanami strode inside, fumbled with his shoes, and pulled his jacket off with a sigh. “Make yourself at home, but please be careful in the living room,” he said, without turning around. “I just had it steam-cleaned last week--”
A hand rested on his shoulder. Gojo was leaning on him as he tugged off his shoes and tossed them to the side. “You alright, there?” Nanami asked before carefully turning to hang up his jacket.
“Me?” Gojo made a noise halfway between a laugh and a sigh. “I’m fine.”
Nanami felt fingers dance over the back of his shirt just above the shoulder holster that held his weapon in place. The fingers seemed to be ignoring the worn leather straps and were more focused on the shirt. They hesitated, then pressed lightly on the muscles at the base of his neck, sending heat radiating through the fabric.
“You seem really tense, though.” The fingers pressed harder.
Nanami had to fight the urge to tilt his head forward - or back, he wasn’t sure which. He just wanted to invite more of the contact, but he wondered how much longer the delicate dance would continue before escalating and shattering.
“That’s partly because this is still on,” he said, reaching up to remove the holster.
As it slid from his shoulders, Gojo’s fingers slid lower, settling between shoulder blades with catlike grace. Nanami’s resolve flickered and nearly went out. He knew he had to stop what was happening, but he was touch-starved, and if he could just let it go on a little longer--
“That looks more comfortable.” Gojo’s voice had dropped to a whisper, but his breath still brushed the back of Nanami’s neck.
Nanami summoned the will to turn around. “Gojo,” he said, lowering his gaze, “you’re--”
A single finger lifted his chin, and his eyes slid shut before he could stop himself. The first kiss was softer than he expected, but Gojo made up for it by holding his chin firmly in place.
When Gojo’s other hand rested on Nanami’s chest, leaning just a little too hard for comfort, Nanami made his best noise of disapproval and broke the kiss. “You’re drunk,” he said, opening his eyes to see Gojo’s sunglasses just an inch from his own.
The hand on his chin raced up to trace his jawline. “Only a little.”
Nanami savored the hand on his chest for a second longer before gently pulling it away with his own. He didn’t want it like this. “You are going to sleep,” he said firmly, willing himself to not look at the taller man's chest or face or hair or eyes. “You can sleep in my bed. I will sleep on the couch.”
He took two steps toward the living room, pulling Gojo behind him. “Huh?” Gojo whined, sounding like a wounded puppy. “I can’t sleep in your bed.”
“Yes, you can. Besides, I do not want you throwing up on the couch.”
Gojo leaned close enough for his breath to tickle Nanami’s ear. “No, I really can’t. If your bed smells like you, then I just might start missing you and--”
Nanami let go of his hand and strode toward the bedroom. “I will sleep in my own bed.”
Gojo cackled and called: “Can I give you a wake-up call?”
“Bathroom is on your left. Goodnight,” Nanami said as he closed the bedroom door.
When the last few hints of laughter had faded behind the door, Nanami rested his forehead against it, waiting for his pulse to subside. The rush he’d felt at Gojo’s contact was tinged with something between concern and regret.
There was no way of knowing where the heart of the world’s strongest sorcerer really was. It could be with nowhere and everywhere at once. It could be with anyone who was willing to have him.
It was far too soon to be talking about a heart, of course, as if they had any kind of connection other than work and some lingering sexual tension that had finally burst into flame that night. There was no denying Gojo might be broken, reckless, ruthless, or all three.
But Nanami still had to force himself to swallow that reality like Suguru Getou swallowed curses.
It didn’t matter, he told himself as he pulled his sunglasses off and unbuttoned his shirt. Gojo would likely be gone first thing in the morning, anyway.