Under the Overpass ~ SatoSugu

Chapter 5

The sun was yet to rise, but for multiple hours Gojo already had. He was up, working on multiple techniques at once, namely long-distance teleportation. The others were less suited and too destructive for just outside the dormitories.

It had nearly worn him out before the day had even begun, but there was an elated feeling that came from those releasing endorphins. Not having used Infinity, he showered off small splinters of miscalculations in wood, and put on a new blindfold, anticipating more training later in the day which had yet to begin for most people. He preferred the blindfold when training, it gave just an edge more of precision and accuracy. He hit the dust out of his uniform with the side of his fist before getting a clean set, snickering at the memory of fighting with Geto, having requested a matching look to his.

"The fuck? No! Get your own ideas!" Yet it seemed as though there were secret wingmen in favor of the pair since the beginning. That, or those 'wingmen' beckoned to the pairs every wish since enrollment. Not to say there weren't rules, and steps set in place to avoid creating egotistical airheads of the highest degree, but when two once-in-a-generation sorcerers of immense power were joined at the hip and carried the future of Jujutsu on their shoulders through a bond more powerful than marriage; ways tended to be gotten in their favor.

"But yours is just so good! You did all the work for me!" Gojo exclaimed, shooting a feeling straight to Geto's chest, even back then.

Gojo hummed through his routine. Gleeful at his newfound evolutions in ability, subsequently instilling great confidence and a mood high.

He exited his scattered dorm and crunched a small package from mochi without touching it, still chewing the last one, tossing the plastic into the "nearby" trash can across the whole courtyard with precise accuracy, only further fueling his mini-high. Upon reaching the next door, Gojo knocked.

Geto turned in the bed, faintly registering the pattern as Satoru's but still in a dreamlike state.

"Yoo-hoo!" Gojo bent down and called under the small gap, blissfully unaware of it not even being dawn yet.

Geto's eyes opened and faced the ceiling. I'm gonna murder him, he thought. More knocking ensued. Two fists grabbed the comforter and slammed it to the side of his body. Interrupting a third set of knocks and callouts as though he was a dog, Geto opened the door.

His hair was down, cascading over his neck and shoulders. Gojo felt the hair on his nape stand on edge. How long had it been since he'd seen it down? Suguru's eyes were barely open, the section of bangs covering one of them, and his body was suppressed by just grey sweatpants. Gojo's eyes trailed down but back up and took notice of a physique he wasn't accustomed to being revealed so easily for him to see the entirety of.

"You better have a damn good explanation, Satoru." He groaned in a deep morning voice but still produced a softness in saying the name. The Satoru in interrogation stood absolutely stunned.

"For what?" He managed, quietly, in a pitch much higher than usual, cracking at the question-marked end.

Geto's eyes squinted in covering a yawn. He took one naturally flexed arm and turned Gojo to see the only slightly colored sky. "See that?" He asked, "It doesn't match your eye color yet, meaning you have zero business here, and I want to be asleep." Those eyes... His hand remained on Gojo as his mind remained transfixed on so much as the thought of them.

"What if I did." He managed only by not having to face his friend.
"Huh?" Geto murmured, now scratching across his chest, still waking up.
"What if I," he considered multiple options, "What if I had an emergency?" Was not the option he had most eagerly wanted to say.

Geto balanced against his door frame. "Then go bother Shoko."

"What if I," he again decided on many possible gambles, so much riding on what he picked, "What if I wanted you."

Geto suddenly felt himself completely awake and aware, as if injected with a shot of caffeine straight to his veins. He brought both hands down to his pockets, pulling the fabric forward to ease the front of his pants from what still stood with what morning brought, a bit embarrassed, but thankful to only be facing the back of Gojo's head. In the slight moonlight, the whitest of highlights seemed to nearly glisten. It was agonizingly hard not to be in awe by it, by how angelic and unnatural he is.

"You're... you're delusioned," Geto answered, untruthfully.
Gojo's shoulders dropped but he wasn't quite done, not ready to take that as an answer. He removed the blindfold and turned, eyes bright and bewitching to Geto. In the darkness, their glowing aura was much more noticeable. The aforementioned prayed his face gave nothing away. A fear that plagued him more and more often.

"That isn't a word, Suguru." Satoru cocked a half smile, not usually one to show an educated side. He took the thin fabric, crossing it behind Suguru's neck, taking both ends in one hand, and tugging it forward.

They were not so much as inches apart, and Geto's dark eyes moved between the shiny lips and swirling, neon blues before him. Gojo leaned forward, moving his head to the crook of Geto's neck. It beckoned him and moved to expose the spot further in consent of the situation.

"You should know better," Gojo whispered lowly. He let go of the tension, letting the wrapping snack back across and into his hands slowly. He balled it up and into his pocket.

"Ciao!" He gave a small wave and skipped away, both his physicality and mind seemed to almost be floating.

Geto didn't wait to slam the door and exhale against the other side of it, quite cross. More so; at a crossroads. He slid his back down and found the floor, "What the fuck." He pulled his hair back and into a bun with one of the ties around his wrist, "No what the fuck?"

"Shoko!" He found her at the earliest possibility.

"Yo." She turned, lollipop in mouth.

"Trying to cut the habit?" He questioned.

"No. This is breakfast," she answered deadpan. "Want one?" She rummaged in her pocket.

Geto cut straight to the point, "Has Satoru been acting weird to you lately?" She studied him for a moment, "By weird do you mean like sex jokes, unflattering selfies, or the blindfold he's started wearing 'weird'?"

No that's all just him, he thought.

"No, I mean like, affectionate wise."
Shoko removed the sucker with a loud pop. "Hah, no. Only to you, it seems." She raised her eyebrows knowingly.
"Okay." He turned and left, leaving her arms up in puzzlement.

Maybe I'm just overthinking this. Everything about it is odd. Satoru's odd.
That was the conclusion he reached, but the tempting invite of "What if" didn't let him write it all off so easily.