Chapter Text
“Itadori is progressing well,” Nanami says as he ducks under Gojo’s punch. “Todo’s guidance proved useful in solidifying his understanding of cursed energy.” He grabs Gojo’s extended arm by the wrist and sweeps his leg out from under him, catching Gojo’s jacket by the collar before he can hit the ground. “You, on the other hand, have grown sloppy. Again.”
Gojo pulls his blindfold up over one eye and grins. “When will you learn? I’ve got you right where I want you, Nanamin.”
Nanami lets go of Gojo’s collar.
Gojo groans as he hits the ground. “So mean,” he says. “That’s no way to treat your lover.”
Nanami rolls his eyes. “I told you to stop calling me that.”
Gojo pouts. “Well you won’t let me call you my husband—”
“Because we’re not married ,” Nanami retorts.
“Do you want to be?”
Nanami pauses.
“Married, I mean.” Gojo takes off his blindfold. “To me.”
Nanami raises an eyebrow. “Are you proposing to me?”
Gojo looks up at his partner. “What if I was?”
It’s not like he hasn’t thought about it before. Gojo’s spent too many sleepless nights imagining what it would be like to come home to his partner permanently, whispering the words of a half-formed proposal against Nanami’s skin as he slept—too scared to say them when Nanami was awake to hear them.
Because Nanami has run once before. And this thing , this beautiful, tender thing between the two of them, is too important to Gojo for him to put it in jeopardy. He’s well aware of the irony: That Nanami, so intent on Gojo guarding himself from harm, is the one who could destroy him.
Nanami’s throat bobs, a familiar blush spreading up the column of his neck.
“I would say yes.”
Oh.
His Nanami always knew how to catch him off-guard.
“Kento,” Gojo starts, because if he’s going to do this, he’s going to use the name he’s been calling his partner behind closed doors for years, the one only he is allowed to use, “I know you’re a stickler for doing things the right way, and I know don’t have a ring, but—”
“Yes.”
Gojo blinks. “You didn’t even let me ask the question.”
Nanami huffs out a laugh. “Fine. Continue.”
“Well now you ruined it,” Gojo whines. He closes his eyes and tilts his head back towards the sky.“I had a whole speech planned where I’d wax poetic on your compassion and integrity and fantastic ass, but you broke my flow.”
“Satoru.”
Gojo opens his eyes, and looks at Nanami.
“I know—we didn’t get along when we met,” Nanami says, “but I always admired you, even when you went out of your way to irritate me. And I am not sure when I stopped hating that you invaded my personal space, or when I started to miss you when you weren’t around, but I’m grateful that I did. You’ve been the most important person in my life for a long time, and one of my best friends for even longer. I’m glad you’re in my life, and I would like to keep you in it.” He extends his hand to Gojo, who gawks up at him from the ground. “Marry me.”
A request masquerading as a command.
And Gojo doesn’t need his Six Eyes to see the kaleidoscope of emotions swirling in Nanami’s eyes, or to see how Nanami’s callused hand trembles as it offers itself to Gojo, his ever-present composure fit to rupture. As if he is unsure what the answer will be. As if Gojo himself hadn’t screwed up proposing to Nanami moments before.
Gojo takes Nanami’s hand, interlacing their fingers—
And yanks Nanami down to him.
In one fluid move, Gojo rolls them over, pinning Nanami to the ground and kissing him senseless.
Because if there is a reason for Gojo to be over-the-top, if there is a reason for him to be jubilant, it’s this.
They’re getting married .
And perhaps more importantly, he’s finally bested Nanami in a fight without using cursed energy.
He pulls back.
Nanami looks up at him, a stupid grin on his face.
And Gojo’s the one who put it there.
“Is that a yes?” Nanami asks.
Gojo beams. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, let’s get married.”
Nanami hums, bringing his hand up to cup Gojo’s face. “Are you going to get off of me, love?”
“Nope.” Gojo smiles. “Also, I win.”
And Nanami laughs. “You’re insufferable,” he says. “And I’d argue that I won.”
Gojo tilts his head. “Oh?” he says. “How so?”
“I’m marrying you,” Nanami says. Then he grabs Gojo’s shoulders and twists, pressing him into the ground. He pins Gojo’s wrists above his head with one hand. “And also because of that,” he says, a smug grin on his face.
Gojo sulks. “Cheater.”
“Says the man who only was able to pin me by yanking me to the ground while I was proposing to him.” Nanami’s free hand roams down, coming to a rest under Gojo’s chin. “And don’t act like you’re not enjoying this.”
Gojo’s grin is all the confirmation Nanami needs.
Nanami releases his hold on Gojo’s wrists. “That’s what I thought.”
Gojo places his hands on Nanami’s neck, pulling him down until their foreheads touch. “I should take your name,” he says. “Think of how much that would piss off my clan.”
Nanami chuckles. “We’ve been engaged for less than five minutes, and you’re already wielding it as a weapon against the jujutsu world.”
“You’re into it,” Gojo says.
“Of course I am,” Nanami replies. “The jujutsu world could use more trivial chaos. I will take this over whatever is happening with the Zenins.”
Gojo snickers. “Nanamin, you remember when—”
“I put Naoya in a chokehold in front of both our school and Kyoto’s at the goodwill event?” Nanami says. “Of course I do.”
“Spirits, that was hot,” Gojo says. “I think I fell in love with you right then and there. I didn’t realize it at the time but—yeah.”
He had known how brutal Nanami could be before that, but seeing quiet, withdrawn Nanami dominate the Zenin heir was new. Nanami eradicated curses with a cold efficiency; with another human, he put on a show. And if their friends had noticed how Gojo’d stopped in his tracks, or how flushed his face was as he joked with Nanami after the fact, they were merciful enough not to say anything about it.
Nanami sighs and relaxes on top of Gojo. “If you didn’t know then, when did you know?”
“When we sparred after you came back,” Gojo says. “We were on the ground, and I looked over at you and all I could think was how much I wanted to kiss you, how glad I was that you were back, and what I’d give to keep you in my life.”
The two lay in silence for a moment.
Gojo relishes in the warm weight of Nanami relaxed against his chest. He wraps his arms around Nanami’s waist.
“The nutritional yeast,” Nanami says, his lips grazing Gojo’s ear.
“Hm?”
Nanami rests his forehead on Gojo’s cheek. “That’s when I knew I was in love with you,” he says. He turns to look at Gojo. “I’d felt something since the first day I arrived at Jujutsu High. I don’t know if you remember, but you invited yourself into my room, then dragged me around campus as some unofficial ‘freshman orientation’, that really turned out to be you dodging Yaga so you wouldn’t have to do paperwork.”
Gojo laughs. “Of course I remember that,” he says. “You were such a grump about the whole thing.”
He hadn’t planned on giving Nanami a tour: He’d planned on ducking in until Yaga stopped looking for him, then exiting when the coast was clear. He’d been expecting some meek first year to be the room’s inhabitant, not a cute blonde with terrible hair and a surly expression. And Nanami had looked so disgruntled by the intrusion, and so unimpressed by the cursed energy rolling off of Gojo in waves that he had to extend the bit, if only to get to know this new kid better. And Nanami had proven himself to be entertaining to prod, and fascinating to try to unravel.
“You invaded my space and dragged me away from unpacking,” Nanami says. “I had the right to be irritated. But you were pretty, and the first person I met who was my age. So I brushed off what I felt as a childish crush, and resigned myself to waiting for it to pass. But then you gave me that nutritional yeast you’d seen in a grocery store because you remembered that I mentioned I enjoyed baking bread from scratch, and I realized those feelings weren’t going anywhere anytime soon.”
“That’s what did it?” Gojo asks, incredulous. “Not the extravagant gifts, or my flirting, or my dashing good looks? Some yeast?”
Gojo feels Nanami’s chuckle more than he hears it. “It was,” he says. “And it wasn’t even the right kind of yeast. It was such a thoughtful gesture that I didn’t have the heart to tell you at the time. I knew your flirting was meant to get a rise out of me, so I never took it to heart. But the yeast showed me you cared enough to think of me, and remember something I’d only mentioned in passing.”
“I remember that,” Gojo says. “I saw it when I was coming back from a mission with Suguru.”
Nanami stiffens on top of him. But for once, saying that name doesn’t hurt.
“He goaded me into buying it for you,” Gojo continues. “He saw me looking at it, and when I said I was thinking of getting it for you for baking, he asked me if I had a crush on you or something. Then when I denied it, he asked me if I was homophobic. Bastard probably knew it was the wrong kind of yeast when we bought it.”
Nanami relaxes. “That sounds like Geto.”
“I was so excited to give it to you,” Gojo admits. “I was scared you hated me, and I thought I’d finally cracked the code on how to make you my friend.”
“I already considered you a friend at that point,” Nanami says.
Gojo smiles. “I didn’t know how to read you yet,” he says. “You did such a good job hiding your emotions that even Six Eyes couldn’t clue me in to what you thought of me. It fascinated me.”
Nanami smiles against Gojo’s neck. “You always loved your puzzles.”
Gojo shivers at the sensation of Nanami’s lips ghosting over his skin. “I wanted you to like me more than I wanted that from anyone else,” he admits. “Maybe because of how little you seemed to care. Even people who found me annoying—like Utahime—I knew they liked me. But you made me work for it.”
“You liked that I was playing hard to get?” Nanami asks.
“It wasn’t that,” Gojo says. “Well, it was kind of that. I—you’re going to think I’m just bragging.”
“I assume that anyways.”
“So mean,” Gojo says. “But okay. I was born as the legitimate heir of one of the three major clans, with power almost beyond even my own comprehension. My family, the jujutsu world, even ordinary people—they all worshipped the ground I walked on. But I was an idol or a tool. Not a person.” He tightens his hold on Nanami’s waist. “The only things I’ve loved have been the ones that didn’t come easy. Because people that came easy were the ones who didn’t see me, you know? I know—I’m not an easy person to be around, let alone love.”
And that is by design. There is a joy to forcing people to see him as flawed, to placing his inconvenient humanity in their faces.
“That’s not true,” Nanami says. “Not for me. Being around you—it’s second nature.”
“That’s because you’re you,” Gojo says. “You always saw me. All of you did, really. Suguru found me vapid, Utahime and Shoko thought I was a brat, Yu was scared of me.”
Nanami flinches at the mention of Haibara.
Gojo rubs his back. “And you—what was it you called me?”
“An overpowered manchild with a god complex and no life or social skills to speak of,” Nanami answers. “Brutal, even by my metric.”
Gojo laughs. “And you were right. None of you made it easy on me, and I loved all of you for it. I felt normal.”
“You are normal,” Nanami says. “At least, in the ways that matter.”
Gojo presses a kiss to Nanami’s forehead. “Should we go again?”
Nanami shakes his head. “No. Let’s stay here for a moment.”
Gojo hums in response. He buries his face in Nanami’s hair, relishing in the quiet.
Tomorrow, they will share the news to their friends and students. Tomorrow they will field questions about how long the two of them have been together, and why they hid it from everyone, and how the proposal happened. Tomorrow will be filled with impromptu celebrations and laughter, and nagging questions about wedding details, and jokes about the fact neither of them thought to buy engagement rings.
But for now, they can stay here, with no ring to speak of other than the circle of Gojo’s arms around Nanami’s waist. They can celebrate their union in private, the only Infinity between them the one they hoped to share moving forward.