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Geto laid against the wall, trying to keep composure with the pain roaring through his body. Footsteps could be heard and he quickly tensed, but it soon subsided once the white haired boy came into view. Both of them stared at one another. One in confusion and the other horror.
No words were spoken but much was understood. Gojo gracefully walked Infront of Geto. His hair covering his sea blue eyes. Geto always loved them. They were so bright and pretty. He’d always laugh when as a teen, he’d wake up late and go to the kitchen, just to see bright, glowing blue eyes snacking on sweet treats.
Geto wondered how messed up he looked. His arm gone, robe destroyed, hair all over. He felt disgusting and weak. But these feelings quickly dismissed themselves once Gojo got on his knees and pushed some of Geto’s hair behind his ear. Geto sharply inhaled, not expecting Gojo to touch his disturbing body. Gojo grabbed Geto, gripping him hard, on what was left of his robe. Wavering breathing could be heard and the feeling of Gojo shaking was prominent. He grabbed Geto and pulled him as close as possible. He nestled his face between Geto’s neck and shoulder, breathing him in.
Geto felt pity. He was the one dying, yet felt horrible for Gojo. His enemy, best friend, past lover, first love, absolutely destroyed Infront of him. Gojo’s infinity was off, Geto could tell, he always could. Gojo would always let down his infinity around him. He trusted him. And now was a very vulnerable moment for both men.
Geto slowly brought his arm up, struggling from the pain and blood loss, but still trying nonetheless. He wraps his arm around Gojo, pulling him in. Caressing his back slowly, as a form of comfort. He moves up his neck, playing with Gojo’s hair. And without a moments hesitation, Gojo started crying. Small, weak sobs came out. His grip tightened even harder and he just fell into Geto. He continued playing with Gojo’s hair, smiling, trying to calm him down, to reassure him that he’s here.
Gojo lost composure. Geto rarely saw moments like this. Granted, he always had his own struggles as well. But even as teens, the pressure for Gojo was hard. He was good at keeping feelings in, but when they got too much, it was an entire meltdown. Geto was there sometimes, able to hold Gojo, comfort him, help relieve him of his worries, attempt to distract him for a little while. He needed a break, he needed time away from the pressures the old fucks put on him.
Geto couldn’t care less that Gojo was the strongest. He loved him for him being stupid, sweet, adoring, charming, charismatic, and handsome. God, there’s so much more Geto could compliment Gojo on, but his status never crossed Geto’s mind. He hated the higher ups, he wanted them dead as much as Gojo did. They destroyed children, ruined child and teen hoods, putting pressure and mental stress on them. Just to use them once they leave school.
Geto moved his hand to push Gojo away, but moving his hand to Gojo’s cheek, making his eyes meet his own.
Gojo’s shaking figure took in Geto’s weakened state. Somehow he was smiling, there was no way Geto wasn’t in pain, yet here he is, smiling for him. Gojo always adores Geto’s smile, his voice, the way he says his name, the way he touches him, gets closer to him no matter what. It’s so adorable. But after they parted ways, they rarely saw each other again. Gojo never knew how much he missed Geto’s smile.
He leans into Geto’s touch, closing his eyes, grabbing his hand, cupping his on top. Gojo inhales deeply before speaking.
“I love you.”
Geto’s eyes widen as he takes in the information. Quickly, that shock subsides and he blushes with a heartfelt smile on his face, choking out a giggle.
“Well at least curse me a little bit at the end.”
Geto feels his vision going dark. He tries his best to remember the smell of Gojo’s expensive cologne, which now littered his body alongside the blood and dirt he’s covered in. He gradually feels his body weaken, slumping, his hand shaking and falling, which Gojo quickly pulls back to his face.
Geto looks at Gojo one final time.
“Satoru.. I-“ his mouth can no longer move, his eye lids heavy, vision blurry. The man before him, just a black and white blur. Swiftly, Gojo wraps his arms around Geto again, holding him as if his body is going to dissipate.
Geto’s body goes limp. Gojo lets out the loudest sob. His feelings boiling up in this throat, watching his lover die, having to dispose of his body after as well as if he’s useless. Gojo can barely get air into his lungs, continuing to let out hoarse cries and screams while clutching to the dead body in an abandoned alley. Losing all composure, his guard fully let down, entirely vulnerable. He couldn’t care less about the things happening around or near him. All he cared about was holding and kissing the dead man infront of him.