Under the Overpass ~ SatoSugu

Chapter 4

Gojo studied his face, noticing a paper-cut sized lash, drawing his eyes attention to his lower lip. He moved the sweaty bangs off Geto's forehead so they freely swayed once again. The closeness made Geto jolt back, which he immediately regretted, but all too late as Gojo let go his hand from the continued hold, now back to his grinning self.

They escaped the fluorescent halls and Gojo made a point to not let the fatigue he felt present itself facially. Geto attempted the same but in a less successful way.

"Are you hurt, Suguru?" Gojo asked. Half with the tone of concern but half with a tone of seeming better than him, just to even it out. He continued to hear breathless wheezes escape Geto in front of him. "Just bruised." Gojo quickened his step to meet pace with the stubborn pride ahead. He knew that was a lie, but also that he'd win in shoving Geto towards medical care as soon as possible.

He changed the subject matter in a whine, slumping his shoulders dramatically. "I'm hungry."
"What do you want me to do about that?"
"OH!"
And just like that, magically, the 'hunger' seemed to vanish as Gojo didn't even look both ways before crossing the street.

"You are not getting those." Geto protested, trying hard not to laugh. Instead of replying, Gojo hummed, dancing his way to the girl behind the counter who clicked feverishly on the keypad of her phone, smacking gum.
She looked him up and down, then at Geto behind him who still stifled a laugh and crookedly smiled, just managing to hold any auditory response in. "800 yen," she inhaled a deep breath, now noticing the overly large, yellow price tag dangling from one side, and had to hold back a more intense urge to laugh, "Please," She managed.

"Oh, of course now you have your wallet." Geto gestured a hand.
"Come take a photo with me!" Gojo pulled his sleeve and then body into the frame of a slightly blurred selfie, sending his new look of heart-shaped sunglasses to both Nanami and Shoko. Price tag still attached.

Returning to their regular agenda, Gojo sought out sugar, craving it. He felt almost shaky from the need for it, the toll of three colored, cursed sends of energy catching up to him. Knowing he had his wallet this time, Geto refused to pay the measly few hundred yen for two popsicles.

Gojo began to open the colorful packaging, but paused, "May I take your overcoat, good sir?" He held the Popsicle up to his ear, nodding, "Wonderful." He replied, tossing the wrapper to the ground. Somehow, each and every day, there was something new about Satoru that Geto wanted to wring his neck for. And yet somehow, every day, that same thing made him fall deeper in love.

"Literally what the fuck." He turned to pick up the litter, nevertheless still half appalled at that clear indecency.

Completely ignoring him, Gojo kept the more normal conversation going: "I hope we get a break now. I wanna rest from missions." He didn't really mean that, though a nap sounded great at that moment, he wanted time off to finesse what he now knew himself capable of.

"It's what you signed on for, dumbass." Geto begrudgingly crumpled the wrapper, holding it till a trash can presented itself.

"Okay, wow, rude, but it doesn't mean I have to give up kicking back every once in a while." He sucked the length of the popsicle.

It was hard for Geto not to be distracted. "Just yesterday afternoon I walked in on you trying a face mask from Shoko, with cucumbers you taped over your eyes so they wouldn't fall off."

"And it worked." Gojo blew a raspberry in response, turning his full attention back to the already near finished dye-filled sweet. Geto's ribs still ached, possibly fractured and not helped by the continuous walking. As such, he found himself unable to eat without going breathless, begrudgingly handing over his frozen treat, dismayed.

"For me?!" Gojo whimpered in a gasping, girly tone.
"Shut up," Geto rolled his eyes, "And don't you dare toss that popsicle stick on the ground," he warned.
"Watch this," Gojo turned a hand palm up, the stick parallel to his fingers. With minimal effort at all, it was sent soaring in a straight line, stopping only when stuck into the wood of a telephone poll up ahead.
"Impressive, huh?" Gojo fished for a compliment, and knowing he'd get no such thing, began to lick the other now melting popsicle.

"Very."

From his peripheral vision, he caught glances of Gojo that made the pit of his stomach churn, but in a different way than what nerves or anxiety produced. Unlike the disgust that found itself in his stomach coming from witnessing whole bowls of noodles inhaled in under a minute, the feeling now was more lofty. It floated around in expectation and longing for something foreign.
Seeing Satoru conceal and recover the cylindrical ice from his mouth, pressing it into the side of his cheek before it was removed with a pop, only for it to be licked base to top over and over again made his eyelashes shudder and his wandering gaze flick between that and the cracks of the sidewalk out of fear of being noticed.

"Those sunglasses are never gonna fly with Yaga." He forced himself to think about literally anything else.

Gojo considered many a reply, "Well what can I say? I'm all heart-eyes for you." Geto flushed.

Why does he get to flirt whenever he wants, but not let it amount to anything? Is it even flirting?
"Okay, lover boy." He hooked his thumbs to the front pockets of his wide-legged pants, walking ahead once again, and smirking slightly at Gojo's wide eyes behind the dark pink lenses.

The range of what didn't cross any lines was growing larger and larger. The two found themselves replying and parrying to the other's quick-witted flirts much more often. Yet years of underlying, reactionary chemistry would surely create a nuclear fallout of emotion greater than anything either had possibly considered. Both were more than convinced the other was just joking, or moreover; just being themselves.

Miraculously, Gojo's wish was granted, and there was no sign of a mission written for them just yet.

Shoko had to balance her palms on her knees, doubling over in the laugh. Her cigarette had fallen almost immediately and let little red embers glow by their feet.
Sadly, Gojo had to abandon the new shades. They failed to pass the Shoko inspection.

Geto tossed him a whole roll of white bandage. He decided against using it, however, and instead asked Yaga for a new pair of more durable glasses, failing to take note of the fact that Suguru kept that in his pockets at all times for him.

"Are you serious right now? Because look at my face," Gojo looked up at it, trying not to fixate on the teacher's speedy knitting, "Do I look at all thrilled at your request for sunglasses?" Yaga was quite obviously joking, taking fun at causing Gojo to question his true sentiments. "Because I am. It's fine, quite literally no issue at all."

Gojo exhaled, relieved.
"Also, that curse..." Yaga set the knitting down, "It was not a second grade." He folded his hands together in his lap.

"Yeah, you don't have to tell us that." He flashed back to the scene of screeching bone mass.

"We're not sure how, or why, but it seemed to have... consumed, if you will, other curses in that facility."

"A curse-eating curse?" Geto's brows narrowed, now angry at his failure to collect such a unique specimen.
"Something like that. It's not unheard of, just very rare and as your instructor, I'd like to apologize for not having prepared the both of you for such an interaction."
Sounds like there's a gun to your head from the elders at the mere thought of their precious cargo being prematurely killed or injured-

"Suguru?" The sugary voice snapped him out of the string of thoughts, "Didn't you say your soles were getting thin?"
"What?" He gingerly wrapped an arm around his torso, the soreness still very much apparent.

"I asked if there's anything you'd like, any sunglasses perhaps?" Geto moved his gaze to the teacher once again and Yaga took note of his venturing thoughts.
"Oh. Sorry, no. Just the shoes."

"Right. I'll send in the orders then. For the time being, Gojo, take this pair." He opened a desk drawer and retrieved a set of what looked to be quite nice sunglasses, nearly identical in shape to his old pair. As if he'd expected such a request in advance.

Gojo slipped them on, pressing the sides to his nose.

"Now, while Geto fully recovers, I don't foresee many missions, especially not ones like today, but don't slack on training. I wanna see improvement, got it?" His apprentices nodded.