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An endless cycle of exorcism and consumption.
Exorcise.
Consume.
It"s a taste that nobody knows, the taste of a curse.
Like ingesting a rag used to wipe up vomit.
Suguru has lost count of how many curses he has exorcised over the past week alone. As tired as he is, it"s also not in his nature to let himself show it, so he puts on a brave smile and carries on.
At this point, Suguru is more than used to the scenario. He"s supposed to be doing this, and he"s happy he gets to do it; protecting the weak and helping rid the world of evil is what he was meant to do. Sometimes he just wishes there was a slightly less vile way for him to do so.
Society should protect the weak, and keep the strong in check.
You see, Satoru… Jujutsu exists to protect non-jujutsu users.
It takes a toll on him more often than not, he can"t deny it. He can only hope no one else is able to see it.
Especially Satoru.
But that"s much easier said than done.
Because even when Suguru feels like he is slowly losing himself, he always finds Satoru next to him, falling apart in his own way. And still, that never stops him from helping guide them on their way back to themselves and each other.
"Have you ever thought about wearing a blindfold to protect your eyes?" Suguru asks when he finds Satoru lying in his bed, arms draped over his eyes.
Suguru doesn"t even remember letting him in.
"I have my glasses?" Satoru gawks at Suguru, voice drowsy and colourless.
"I know, but still." Suguru lies down next to him. "Try it." He moves to extend his arm out and grab a piece of white bandage from the drawer beside his bed, handing it to Satoru.
"Aw, Suguru… How long have you had these for me here?" Satoru teases, a wink and an obnoxious smile palpable in his tone.
"Shut up and put it on."
"Yes, sir."
Exorcise.
Consume.
It never gets any easier.
Suguru shifts weakly on his bed after hearing a noise downstairs; he knew his parents weren"t home, so this could only mean one thing. Either the house was getting broken into, orㅡ
"Hi," Satoru breathes out when he arrives.
Of course.
He turns to see the white-haired boy leaning onto his bedroom door frame. Behind the new bandages covering his eyes, Suguru can see a smile, sympathetic.
"Are you okay?"
Suguru stares.
Satoru tilts his head, letting out a nervous sound, and Suguru can tell he regrets asking the moment the words leave his lips, and yet he asks the same question every time he finds Suguru like this.
"Sorry." Satoru comes over to sit next to him, his grip tight around a bag of groceries. "I know the answer is no."
Suguru musters the strength to give him a faint laugh, even though it hurts during days like this.
"What do you have there?" He nudges towards Satoru"s lap, eager to change the subject to anything other than the current unrelenting urge to be sick at any second again.
"I bought some snacks on the way here. Sweets, mostly. Thought we could share." Satoru beams sweetly at him, proudly showing off his cavity-inducing purchase and then clicking his tongue. "You know, to sweeten your day."
Suguru couldn"t tell just when his feelings towards Satoru changed over the yearsーhe often thinks maybe they had been there all alongーbut he"s constantly reminded how gloriously screwed he is each time Satoru smiles at him like that, like he"s everything.
"Not really in the mood to eat anything right now, but"ーSuguru returns his smile with a sickly expression. As much as he appreciated the gesture, the thought of eating anything was stomach-churning right nowー"maybe later."
Satoru licks his lips and smiles before crossing his legs on the mattress. "Suit yourself, I"m eating it now."
Satoru pulls out a white-and-green packaging from the bag, his favourite one, distracting himself with the corners while Suguru rolls onto his other side, facing away from Satoru and feeling an unpleasant twist in his heart at the sight of the other, eyes wide and eager, so intent on absorbing his daily dose of sugar.
After getting through the wrapping plastic, Satoru is about to take a bite when he hears more shuffling and sees Suguru clumsily clinging to the headboard of the bed and making his way to the bathroom.
"Suguru." He gets up in a flash and follows him, his zunda-flavoured kikufuku dessert completely forgotten.
"Go away, please," Suguru mumbles, voice raspy and weary.
"No," Satoru blurts out.
That"s a first.
"What do you mean, no?" Suguru sounds indignant now. "Go. I don"t want you to see me like this."
Satoru"s voice becomes lighter. There"s a certain desperation in his face, but his voice is as delicate as silk when he whispers, "Let me help you."
"You can"t help me." Suguru sounds powerless, pathetic.
"Let me try."
"Satoru, really, you don"t have to do thisㅡ"
"Suguru. Hey." Satoru forces the other to look at him, slowly pulling his chin up, and his voice is somehow quieter now, less desperate and even more tender. "I want to."
Suguru sighs, defeated.
Letting himself be practically manhandled by Satoru, he gives up so to speak, and tries not to think too hard about the situation they find themselves in, an uneasiness in his chest he can"t quite grasp. Something about the vulnerability of letting your best friend see you at your worst, and still have him want to take care of you.
Satoru holds Suguru"s hair back gently, slowly rubbing his back while he lets everything out, a wave of complete tranquility strangely hitting him afterwards.
Suguru became so used to doing this on his own, having to tie his hair upㅡsometimes not in enough timeㅡand clean up by himself, it feels awfully bizarre having Satoru"s company here, even for this.
He wouldn"t have it be anyone else, though.
After he"s done, Suguru attempts to get up again to wash himself but he stumbles, nearly falling. And he would have, except Satoru was right there to catch him.
Satoru watches patiently as Suguru brushes his teeth, leaning his head on his hands for support with barely any strength left once it"s time to wash his face.
He senses Satoru"s hands around his neck, making their way up as he feels him start to brush his hair, gently and slowly. He can see their reflection in the mirror, and for the first time since he got there, Suguru notices the lights are dimmed down and Satoru took his blindfold off, now hanging around his neck. His hair is down too. He"s beautiful.
Suguru"s eyes follow Satoru"s gaze around his nape, leisurely massaging his head as he runs his fingers through Suguru"s hair for what feels like hours, before fixing it in a messy bun.
"Is this alright?" Satoru murmurs, voice as soft as the down of a pillow.
Suguru simply nods, too weak to give him outspoken permission.
"Close your eyes," he instructs.
Suguru didn"t realise he already had his eyes closed when he fixes himself up, his head falling back onto the crook of Satoru"s neck at the feeling of his chest glued to his back. Then, Satoru takes Suguru"s hand and pulls him closer to the sink, running his own under warm water and soap.
Truth be told, it feels new but soothing, being able to let his guard down and let someone else take care of him for a change. Especially when that someone is Satoru.
"This looked a bit better in my head." Satoru breaks him out of his thoughts, pausing before he continues. "Not that I imagined doing this before, I meanㅡ"
Suguru raises his eyebrows suggestively at their reflection in the mirror, pleased to see cherry-red dusted in Satoru"s cheeks.
"This would have been easier if we were in a bathtub or something," Suguru snorts lightly.
Satoru freezes, and Suguru doesn"t miss it.
"Satoru… Not like that. Get your mind out of the gutter," he giggles, and it comes out easier this time.
"Screw you, I didn"t even say anything."
They stay like that, smiling, at nothing in particularㅡeach other"s presence is enough motive for their cheeks to hurt from itㅡbut they can still sense each other"s gaze in the comfortable silence of the night, the atmosphere around them warm like the water dripping down his face.
Satoru tries washing Suguru"s face again, but he doesn"t get too far with Suguru giggling every time his hand brushes near his jaw and the corner of his lips.
"Are you seriously ticklish around here but not your neck?"
"How do you know I"m not?" Suguru returns the question.
He feels Satoru"s hand on his neck again, a quiet Is that a challenge? in the air as he begins stroking his skin there lightly, the two gone silent now.
Suguru squirms under Satoru"s touch when his hands find a particularly tense spot, biting his lower lip with a suppressed sigh.
When he opens his eyes, he sees Satoru"s proud expression. Smiling at him like he just won their little bet.
"Shut up." Suguru fixes his posture, attempting to busy himself and look indifferent.
"I didn"t say anything."
"Your face says plenty." He pouts. "Stop smiling."
But when has Gojo Satoru ever listened?
"Better?" Satoru asks once Suguru is back in his bed and seemingly comfortable under the covers.
"Much better."
"Good, now say thanks."
"Don"t push it."
"Heyㅡ!"
As much as Suguru loves to tease him and watch as Satoru"s demeanor becomes less and less composed whenever he successfully gets a reaction out of him, he"s also thankful Satoru didn"t listenㅡagain, when does he ever?ㅡwhen Suguru tried to kick him out of his room.
He did help, Suguru won’t deny that. But even if he hadn"t helped the way he did, Satoru"s presence alone is always comfort enough for him.
"Satoru," Suguru exhales heavily, his voice warm like bottled sunlight. And the way he says his name sounds different this time, like the name was made specifically for Suguru alone to say it. "Thank you."
Satoru"s voice falters for a moment, but he"s quick to recover. "See? That wasn"t so hardㅡ"
"For being annoying and not leaving me alone when I categorically asked you to."
Satoru stares at him, inexpressive and clearly more than just a little unamused.
A second later Satoru"s punching his arm, and Suguru stumbles back on the bed, his head falling on Satoru"s lap as they proceed to laugh into each other"s arms.
Something about being this close, with Satoru"s entire body clinging to him, skin touching everywhere while they"re lying in his childhood bedroom, on his bedーit feels too much like home.
And the prospect of ever losing that terrifies him.
But he shouldn"t go there now. Or ever, for that matter.
Instead of keeping the fake fight going, it takes approximately half a second for their snickering to stop and their breathing to slow down, with Suguru not entirely sure of what draws Satoru to do what he does next.
He begins running his fingers through Suguru"s thick charcoal hair, softly and slowly playing with small locks of it and massaging his scalp once more as he does so.
Moving another strand of his bangs that were covering his face, Suguru feels Satoru"s breathing come to a full stop for a moment.
"You"re staring," Suguru says, gaze fixed on the ceiling.
Satoru shifts lightly on the bed, like he wants to observe Suguru better, who in turn moves to lie fully on his back and attempts to look right at Satoru when he responds, "I am."
His response catches Suguru off guard; he was expecting an attitude or more teasingㅡanything but a confirmation.
When he turns to face Satoru completely, he"s a little surprised to see his eyes wide and brimming with fondness.
Suguru"s hands find Satoru"s from under the covers and laces their fingers together.
"You are."
He can"t stop from wondering if this is the start of his solitude melting into something good, something bearable. A sense of relief along with something else he can"t quite describe washes over himーmaybe the hopefulness of the future, one that begins and ends with Satoru holding him close.
Suguru thinks he can get used to this.