The Messy Science of Attraction and Repulsion

27. A Hard Day's Night/Come Together

Nanami hated having to call Ijichi to come pick him up on a Saturday, but there seemed to be no other way around it. It was either that or walk through the streets covered in blood and gore and then take the loop train to the other side of town. And there was no way in hell Nanami was going to do that, considering he looked like he had just come out of the elevator scene from the movie The Shining.

The mood had turned sour. What had started as a pleasant weekend outing had evolved into an absolute shit show. Nanami had to balance a stern lecture on impulse control with a philosophical lesson about how it wasn't always curses they ended up exorcising, sometimes it was actual people possessed by curses. People who then became collateral damage out in the field.

Collateral damage…what an utterly diminishing and emotionally detached name for murder.

And Nanami had to explain all these morally gray concepts to a fifteen year old who hadn't any inkling of their existence or that of the jujutsu world a mere three months ago. Megumi was different; he'd grown up in the midst of it all, but Yuta was just a normal boy from a normal background (cursed, yes, but that was a whole other matter). Nanami found himself wishing Gojo had been there. If he had been, then probably none of this would have even happened.

The car ride back home was rather strained, to say the least. Yuta was absentmindedly chewing on a thumbnail and staring out the car window. Even Megumi had gone unusually silent, offering up none of his usual deadpan remarks. Clearly being on the receiving end of a long winded lecture from Stern Adult Nanami had them both acting sullen and penitent. As the car neared Gojo's oversized house, Nanami leaned forward to beg another favor from Ijichi:

"I realize this is even more of an imposition—"

"—you're not imposing on me, Nanami-san. In fact, I'm very happy you're back."

Nanami smiled slightly at that. "Can you keep an eye on them while I go get cleaned up? I don't want Yuta to be left alone right now—"

"—hey, I'm here too, you know!"

Nanami just gave Megumi The Look for interrupting him. "You're not an adult," Nanami pointed out. "Despite having grown up almost completely unsupervised." Nanami turned back to Ijichi, taking out his wallet (his one item not covered in slime) and pressing money into his hand. "Take them to the convenience store down the hill and get them something to eat. Omelette making is currently on hold for the time being."

Ijichi tried to return the money, claiming he'd be happy to treat the boys. He and Nanami awkwardly went back and forth over who would pay. Finally Ijichi said, "Nanami-san you clearly need a break." He pointedly eyed Nanami's ruined clothes and blood spattered face. "Whatever Gojo is paying you, I'm sure it's not enough." At this, Nanami relented and simply allowed Ijichi to take over. He exited the car and watched them pull away. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. He made a face when they came away sticky.

Nanami trudged up the front walkway, glad for a moment's respite from babysitting—or, in fact, having to do anything at all (Ijichi may have been on to something when he said Nanami was in need of some kind of break). His mood didn't improve, however, as he remembered that there were exactly zero showers in this decades old house, only those weird soaking tubs that were in vogue back in the sixties and seventies. Nanami, of course, had fully intended to have all the plumbing and bathroom fixtures upgraded to modern standards; it was something that had been near the top of his to-do list. But all of that had come to a screeching halt when Gojo had his blow up over Nanami's constant interference in his affairs. So now he was stuck with an old fashioned tub.

And as he continued to flick blood spatter out of his hair, he thought he would just have to make do. In fact, he might just have to give himself a personal-spa-day-in-a-bathtub. He could just lay there and relax. He could maybe even put cucumbers over his eyes, like those big haired ladies in ads from the fifties. Go all out.

Nanami skirted around to the back kitchen, his preferred entrance. He walked in and went to the fridge and pulled out a bottled water. He found himself wishing for a nice glass of wine, but there was zero booze in the house. His spa experience was going to suffer a little without the requisite glass of white, but he would get over it.

"Nanamin?"

Nanami whirled around at the sound of his own name to find Gojo standing in the doorway. They both froze on the spot. And as if the universe had heard Nanami's own mental plea for wine, he saw that Gojo was holding a bottle with a Bartolo label…

…that promptly slipped from his hands and hit the kitchen floor, shattering into a dozen very expensive pieces.

That's when Nanami took actual notice of Gojo's horror struck expression. He didn't even manage to get a word in before Gojo had crossed the kitchen and put both hands on either side of his head, demanding, "What the fuck happened—"

"—just calm down—"

"—the hell I will! Why do you look like this—"

"—this is not my blood—"

"—I miss one Saturday and somehow you end up looking like a goddam crime scene—"

"—it's fine, I just had a little field trip go slightly awry—"

"—Slightly? Just slightly? And where are the boys—"

"—they're fine. They're with Ijichi." Nanami put his hands on Gojo's shoulders, trying his best to get him to calm down. Nanami watched his face go from shock and horror to well and truly pissed. Not at Nanami, of course, but he had a look about him that said Okay, who's ass am I going to have to go kick for having done this? He looked ready to commit murders. And that was dangerous. Because you did not piss off the world's strongest sorcerer. That was the kind of shit that could level cities.

"Will you please calm down? I am perfectly fine. I just got hit by a bit of backsplash because Yuta got a little slash happy with a manifestation earlier."

Gojo narrowed his eyes. Nanami could tell he was struggling to accept this explanation, that he thought Nanami must be downplaying the whole situation. But after a few moments he seemed to relent. "Okay. If you're sure that's all."

"That is all—Ow!" Nanami was surprised when Gojo hit him in the shoulder.

"And that's for nearly giving me a special grade heart attack!"

"Duly noted," muttered Nanami, rubbing his shoulder. He grabbed the broom and dustpan from the corner cupboard, intent on sweeping up the broken glass, when Gojo interrupted him.

"Just what do you think you're doing?"

"Cleaning up this mess?"

Gojo's shoulders slumped at the remains of the wine bottle. "Oh yey…that was supposed to be a present for you."

"And it was a very nice one." Nanami smiled regretfully. Gojo gestured for Nanami to hand him the broom.

"Let me deal with this and you go get cleaned up. You're starting to…congeal." He made a face.

Nanami didn't argue. He handed over the broom and dustpan and headed off to the bathroom, still intent on getting his soak on. It took a few minutes of playing around with the old-timey handles on a tub that most closely resembled a portable onsen. But despite its age, the water that came out of it was tolerably hot and soon the small room was filled with steam. Too bad that wine bottle met an unfortunate end, Nanami thought as he rooted inside a wicker cabinet for fresh towels. He was also pleased to discover an old bathrobe made out of some weird crushed velvet material. He took this too, since there was definitely no way he was getting back in his ruined clothes after this bath (it was a pity he didn't have a change of clothes here, but his and Gojo's relationship hadn't progressed quite that far).

Nanami caught a glimpse of his reflection in a floor length mirror in the corner and nearly started. Shit, I look positively ghoulish, he thought. No wonder Gojo had gone ballistic at seeing him like this. Which instantly made Nanami feel bad, as he recalled how white his face had looked when Nanami had turned around from the fridge.

Because the last time Gojo had been covered head to toe in blood, it had been his own…

Nanami pushed these morbid thoughts away as he peeled off pieces of ruined clothing and discarded them on the floor. He climbed into the tub, sighing contentedly as he felt himself enveloped in a swirl of pleasurable warmth. At home he had the latest in high tech showers, but now that he was completely submerged in water, even going so far as to dunk his head underneath, he thought he might like to get something like this for himself. Maybe some kind of jetted hot tub, like they had in those high end day spas. Something you'd lounge in, maybe read a book in, while keeping a bottle of wine at the ready after a long hard day at the office.

Nanami was deep into this high end tub fantasy when a knock at the door behind him startled him out of his reverie.

"I got some fresh clothes for you," came Gojo's voice from the other side of the door.

Nanami's brow furrowed. Did he actually just warp to my house and back? "You went out and got me a change of clothes?"

"Of course I did." There was a pause. "I'm sorry, I should have asked first—"

"—no, don't worry about it. That was…thoughtful of you." Nanami turned his head slightly as he heard the door slide open. There was the sound of footfalls behind him as he heard Gojo walk over to the small vanity and sink combo. The clink and rasping of things being arranged on the countertop sounded preternaturally loud in the small enclosed space. A moment of silence followed where there was no movement, no sound at all, and Nanami found himself going equally silent and still, his heart suddenly banging loudly in his chest. He waited, his ears straining for any kind of noise, any kind of sign. His breath hitched only slightly when the sound of footsteps started moving towards him from behind. And then like magic, a hand deposited his own very specific brand of shampoo on the corner of the tub.

"You're going to need that. Your hair's a complete disaster," came Gojo's voice from behind him.

But before he could reach for the bottle himself, Gojo snapped it back up. There was a rustling sound and a slight thud as he knelt by the tub.

"May I?"

Nanami's brow shot up towards his hairline at this. He craned his neck back, checking to see if this was really happening and caught an upside down view of Gojo's face staring straight into his own. "You're being very obliging all of a sudden," Nanami told upside-down-him.

"Yey, well, you look like you've had a shit day, so I thought maybe…" Gojo allowed the thought to hang unfinished and he started pouring shampoo into his palm. "Okay, move your head back just a little."

Nanami slid down against the back of the tub and tilted his head back. He had, of course, regularly felt other people's hands on his scalp whenever he would go in for a haircut, but he could honestly say it had never felt like this. The feel of Gojo's fingers working through his hair, gently and thoroughly massaging his scalp, was so intensely relaxing, so enjoyable, so—

—intimate.

That was the word.

Nanami closed his eyes, humming out a long contented sigh as he tilted his head even further back. He was surprised at how relaxed he felt, because this whole situation could have easily slid into the realm of awkward and uncomfortable and embarrassing. But by this point, he'd become so used to Gojo's presence in his daily life that this seemed more of a natural progression of things. It was just another forward step in their journey together. Even if he'd never imagined a scenario quite like this one. It was all so strange and weird and wonderful that he found himself laughing a little at the absurdity of it all.

Gojo's hands suddenly paused in their movement. "Find something funny?"

"Yes. If you had told me a month ago that the Strongest Sorcerer of the Modern Age would be acting as my personal shampooist, I would have told you to get the fuck out—"

There was a slight tug on his hair that stopped just short of being painful. "Don't make fun, because this particular privilege can be revoked at any time, you know—"

"—oh, I'm definitely not making fun. I'm actually pretty damn happy right now—"

"—are you?" There was another pause. Then in a more serious voice, "I'm sorry I got so upset downstairs. I shouldn't have went off like that."

Nanami could hear the strain in Gojo's voice as he went on. He was definitely using his 'this is me trying' voice. "I got back earlier than expected and I wanted to surprise you. I even got you that gift and everything, but then I saw you standing there all covered in blood and my mind immediately went to the worst—"

"—it's fine. Really. It was just bad timing, is all," Nanami assured him. "Besides," he added cheerfully, "This more than makes up for it." Another long contented sigh followed. "Your fingers are like fucking magic right now."

"Of course they are," Gojo scoffed as he began palming water over Nanami's head to rinse off all the residual stickiness. "I'm good at everything, you know—"

"—is that so?" Nanami craned his neck back, eyes playfully alight with a challenge. Gojo's face still hovered above his own, upside down, eyes gleaming and diamond faceted, as transcendently blue as ever but mercurial in a way they definitely hadn't been when they were both younger, a marked change that Nanami didn't want to think too hard about in this particular moment. He watched, in almost desperate anticipation, as those all powerful eyes slowly slid shut and Gojo leaned down, sweeping his lips lightly over his, softly, teasingly…

Finally, at last—

There was just a whisper of breath, tantalizing close, as Gojo continued to hover, purposefully not dipping all the way in, tormenting Nanami with that place that existed somewhere between almost and not quite. A slow build of anticipation, a subtle suggestive tease that made Nanami twist between two poles of desire: one where he was determined to wait and see what Gojo would do next and one where he just wanted to reach up and grab a handful hair and pull him down right fucking now.

But this delicate and subtle form of torture didn't leave him twisting for too long as Gojo slipped one hand beneath his chin, angling Nanami's head back for better access, before closing in, pressing his lips firmer, tighter…

Oh, hell yes—

…before his tongue swept out, just slightly, and that one little move was enough to pull an almost agonized moan out of Nanami's throat. Because that's how much power Gojo Satoru had over him, that he could get Nanami going with just this slight kiss, the lightest of touches, and suddenly he was lit on fire with just this much.

"Are you purposefully trying to torture me right now?" Nanami rasped against his lips, unconcealed want and desire coloring and straining his voice.

The facets of diamonds were staring back at him. "Maybe?" Gojo said teasingly. "Why? Do you object—"

"—hell no!" Nanami reached up and pulled him even closer, finally taking what he wanted, kissing him fully, roughly, over and over, until Gojo finally surrendered and allowed him in. It was the most exquisite of small victories, and Nanami made sure to savor every lingering taste, every single touch. But despite this intensity, this deep and heady press of carnal need, Nanami forced himself to slow the pace, to dial it back a notch. And when he heard Gojo give a slight moan, this alone told Nanami all he needed to know: slow and steady would be what won the race here.

There was a thoughtful hum from Gojo as they briefly broke apart. "You've gotten so much better at this since high school," he observed.

"I've gotten better at a lot of things since high school," Nanami promised him.

There was the arch of an eyebrow and a soft smile on Gojo's face as he said, "I really don't think I deserve you."

"No, you deserve fucking monuments," insisted Nanami. "But…I guess I'll just have to do." He reached up and cupped Gojo's face with both his hands, and finally said aloud some words he had thought to himself a very long time ago, but never ever believed he would actually have a chance to say:

"Back on my very first day at Jujutsu Tech I walked by the second year dorms, and I came to a complete stop like an idiot in the middle of the quad because I could not stop staring at this guy, who was the most beautiful, perfect, exquisite—"

"—oh, stop—"

"—looking creature I had ever laid eyes on. And for the entirety of my first semester I could not stop thinking about this guy, and I couldn't leave him alone—"

"—be serious—"

"—even though he was already taken, because I was a love struck idiot who apparently had no sense of self preservation—"

"—you really didn't think that, did you—"

"—the hell I didn't! I thought it then, and I still think it even now. Because in my estimation you're still the most beautiful perfect thing I have ever laid eyes on, and I am still a love struck idiot. Maybe even more so."

Gojo's mouth was hanging open at this completely unprompted confession. Finally he just said, "I…really don't deserve you."

"Stop saying that! Look, I'm the one who's sitting here being pampered like a goddam king while you run around and fetch my clothes and wash my hair and buy me expensive bottles of wine. Yet somehow you think you're the one who's undeserving?" Nanami shook his head in awe. "I think you've got it backwards, because I think you deserve everything." Nanami twisted around, leaning over the tub's edge. Feeling emboldened, he reached out and tugged at Gojo's collar and said pointedly, "Now then…I have to admit, I'm kinda feeling a little underdressed here while you are entirely too overdressed—"

"—don't know what you mean. The view from where I'm sitting is pretty damn great—"

Nanami's eyebrow shot up at this as he continued to thumb Gojo's collar. "I mean, it would help even things out a bit if you were to lose an article of clothing or two. Granted, it's just a friendly suggestion, no pressure or anything…"

Now it was Gojo's eyebrow that arched. "You're really pushing this pampered king agenda, aren't you?" Despite the accusation, a calculating and mischievous smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Then he said:

"Kiss me again and I'll consider it."

Nanami needed no further encouragement. He slid in close, as far as the lip of the tub would allow, combing wet hands through Gojo's hair. He didn't even get a chance to go any further before Gojo dipped in first, kissing him hungrily, sensually, his mouth moving over Nanami's in a possessive manner that was completely different from the carefully controlled display he had teased him with earlier. Nanami responded to this eagerness in kind, deepening the kiss as he allowed Gojo to shove him against the back of the tub, seemingly relishing having Nanami trapped there and under his command. Gojo took his hands off him long enough to undo exactly one button on his shirt—the one on his right cuff. Then he ruched up his sleeve and shoved his hand down in the water, sliding his hand over Nanami's abs, down his stomach, and further—

Nanami couldn't help the sound that escaped his lips when Gojo hit paydirt. The moan was mostly lost though, swallowed up by their aggressive kissing, as Gojo seemed intent on doing both things at the same time (and doing them well, per his own claim of 'being good at everything'). As far as spa days went, Nanami was ready to grade this one a perfect ten, five stars, top marks…

…and that was even before the addition of the happy ending.

Nanami was struggling at this point to stay upright and afloat in the tub. Gojo was practically sprawled on his chest, and between his weight and his own legs turning to jelly from all the extra attention he was getting down below the waterline, things were becoming decidedly unstable. He was sliding centimeter by delicate centimeter further into the water, which meant Gojo was also sliding into the water (which, fine, if he wasn't going to take that stupid shirt off, then getting it drenched was the next best thing). But as Nanami felt the imminent press of an orgasm approaching, he thought he should say something, before they both went completely under.

"Look, I don't think I can hold us both up anymore—"

"—it's fine, I can keep going—"

"—you're already half in the tub—"

"—don't care—"

"—you know what, I'm just going dunk you all the way in—"

"—you won't, because you're too much of a neat freak to splash water all over the—SHIT!"

Water sloshed over the sides as Nanami tilted Gojo over into the tub with him. "See, warned you…" Gojo flailed against it initially but then he simply gave up and settled into the absurdity of the situation as Nanami started kissing him again. Which was even better. Because now that Nanami had all of him against him (wet clothes or not) kissing him like this in the water would have honestly probably been enough to get him off, never mind what Gojo's hand was or wasn't doing.

And even though the early morning part of his day had been a definite disaster, the coming home part of it turned out to be pure afternoon delight…

To be continued…