Work Text:
“Two or three years from now, my kid will be sold off to the Zen’in Clan. Do what you will with that…”
Megumi Fushiguro isn’t exactly the happiest of children. Or the easiest. Not that Satoru Gojo really has a reference point for this opinion, but he knows this fact like it’s law and even if every kid in the world is exactly like Megumi, it still does not make him any easier to deal with.
To be fair, Satoru is young and inexperienced himself. He’s reeling from a battle nearly lost and almost losing Suguru Geto, his one and only friend. He’s coming to terms with his own powers, his own worth as a person, and on top of all of that, is just coming into adulthood. There’s a strong possibility that he’s the difficult child in this situation, and Megumi is just a regular kid faced with loss and having his entire life uprooted too young.
Why blame it on himself when he can put all the blame on the kid?
He’s pulling the white blindfold over his eyes and tying it where Suguru had attempted an undercut for him, and Megumi is clinging to his leg and grabbing at the fabric of his pants.
“Do you have to go, Satoru?” comes his tiny voice, and Satoru ruffles the hair on top of his head without even looking.
“Satoru has work to do.”
The low register of Suguru’s voice cuts through the sound of the ceiling fan in the bathroom from where he leans on the door frame. His arms are crossed and he’s observing the scene with a gentle smile. His long black hair is down. He’s in his casual, baggy clothes, because today he’d been digging through the flower beds while Satoru watched Megumi in the morning.
But duty calls, and off Satoru must go as is his job as a Jujutsu sorcerer.
“Satoru works every day!” Megumi yells from his place on the floor.
“It’s because I’m so big and strong and powerful,” Satoru answers, and crouches down so he’s eye-level with Megumi. “When you’re my age, you’ll work too. You’ll help protect people, too.”
He doesn’t need to look up to know that Suguru is frowning now and they both know that neither of them want this life for Megumi. But even now, Satoru can see the cursed energy spiking viciously around his little body and he wants nothing more than to take this burden away from him.
Megumi sneers in a vicious way that’s maybe intimidating to five year olds, but to Satoru he looks like a dork. He wouldn’t have it any other way, even as Megumi closes his hand into a fist and strikes his knee.
“I’ll never be old like you,” he says through gritted teeth.
“Don’t grind your teeth together, Megumi,” Suguru says, bored, as he starts to turn. “Let’s leave Satoru alone so he can go - I saw some worms in the garden if you’d like to see.”
Megumi likes this idea. He jumps to his feet and follows Suguru from the room.
Satoru watches them go and is grateful for this little life.
Toji Fushiguro had died by Satoru’s hand when his potential had fully awakened.
His last words had been information regarding Megumi, and Satoru watched him crumple onto the ground, and then he himself sat on the ground, and then he was struck by a vision. Satoru doesn’t tend to…get visions. He didn’t know what it meant. He still doesn’t know what it means, only that he will do anything and everything in his power to prevent it from happening.
In this trance-like state as he swayed beside the still body of Toji Fushiguro, Saturo felt his world ripped from him.
He saw a boy, younger than he was then. He didn’t know this boy, but he did, in a way. He knew the shape of his nose and the cursed energy that shifted like a living thing around him. He knew his hands and his technique and that familiar sneer, and he also knew that it was over. That he lost the battle. That he had loved and adored this kid and yet failed him in some capacity, like many before him.
The boy that he loved was possessed by an evil Saturo couldn’t comprehend in his dreamlike state, and the boy’s technique was used to kill and slaughter him and rip him in half until he was no longer breathing, until his heart was no longer beating, until Satoru felt a defeat he didn’t think was possible.
Saturo Gojo died alone, afraid. He died feeling like a failure, and full of regrets that he couldn’t pick apart enough to understand. There were only two that stood out to him in that moment.
One - that the boy in front of him was Megumi Fushiguro, and he had failed to keep him from harm’s way. He wouldn’t live to see him grow old and happy like he had hoped. He would never know what happened to him, and if Megumi would regain his faculties back.
Two - he mourned a life where he could have settled down with Suguru and protected him from the cruelty of their world. Another failure on his part, not staying at his side and not trying harder to understand and love him.
In the end, he was just a scared boy who wished he had done things differently.
When Satoru felt the rush of air flood back into his lungs and he became fully aware of his surroundings again, he was determined to change the future that had been laid out before him. He found Amanai’s body and wrapped her in a white cloth and felt vaguely out of his mind, vaguely insane, vaguely inhuman. He found Suguru in the doorway as cult members clapped incessantly around them and wondered aloud if he should kill them.
Suguru looked at him like a dead man walking.
Satoru didn’t want his vision to come true.
They went to find Megumi that night.
Satoru pushes the damp hair from Megumi’s forehead as he sniffles into his pillow and chokes out an open-mouth cough right on his arm.
“You’ll get me sick,” he scolds, and Megumi groans and giggles despite the fever.
“We can be sick together,” comes his scratchy, little voice.
“I don’t want that, silly,” Satoru answers and swipes a tissue under his nose.
“We can cuddle all day!”
“I don’t want to cuddle you when you’re sick!”
Megumi huffs and pushes himself further into the blankets that Suguru had warmed in the dryer earlier just for him.
“You and Suguru cuddle, why can’t we?”
Satoru blinks but can’t help but grin. “Yes, but Suguru and I aren’t sick, and you are.”
“You’re very mean.”
Suguru sweeps into the room at that moment with a steaming cup of tea and a soft smile on his face, settling onto the bed beside the two.
“Your Gojo is very mean,” he agrees. “But I’m here now, I’ll fix you right up.”
Satoru pouts and murmurs that that’s not fair, but the two ignore him as Megumi curls into Suguru’s side. He crosses his arms and grumbles to himself but is thoroughly ignored until Megumi is asleep and Satoru grows tired, too.
He feels a little silly pressing himself into Suguru’s open and waiting arm but he falls asleep anyway, even if Megumi is sick, and even if he wakes up sick too, because there’s a distinct comfort of it being the three of them together.
(If Suguru accuses him of getting sick on purpose so that he will have to take care of him too, Satoru will vehemently deny it even if it’s a little bit true.
He can’t help it. It’s Suguru, after all).
It’s not always a quiet life.
Satoru leaves every day because he must. It’s his duty as the Six Eyes and the strongest sorcerer in the world. Without him, curses would run amuck and people he’s worked hard to protect would be at risk.
He likes helping people, he likes saving lives, he likes feeling fulfilled in his purpose.
But at the end of day, Saturo Gojo is, and always has been, a weapon. It was his purpose at birth and it’s his purpose now. He strikes curses down faster than most people can blink and feels them push and thrash against his Infinity and wishes that he was at home with his boy and Suguru, and not out in the field risking his life for a job that will never end.
He trudges down the dirt drive to their quiet cottage in the quiet countryside and feels the entire weight of the world on his shoulders, feels the residuals of cursed energy and the ache of his head from sensory overload.
Down in the garden, he can hear the chatter and laughter of Suguru and Megumi. They’re probably playing in the dirt, as they do, and Satoru feels a weird sense of relief wash away some of that burden.
He steps into the small house and toes off his shoes in order to slip on his slippers. Megumi screeches somewhere from the garden and he smiles as he moves to the kitchen to boil water for tea.
He can see them now, through the window above the sink.
Suguru has twigs in his long hair that look like horns and Megumi’s rosy cheeks are streaked with dirt as he prances through the grass that Satoru knows he needs to cut before the week’s over. Suguru is yelling something about finding ingredients for the potion he’s brewing (a grimy, muddied liquid that swirls around in a cracked bowl they’d given to Megumi for play), and Megumi is shouting about fairies under the rocks.
Satoru’s shoulders sag and the water overflows from the tea kettle but he doesn’t exactly care because he’s watching his entire world through the smudged glass.
He’s tired.
Some days are more taxing than others.
Suguru makes eye contact with him through the window and a dopey smile lights up on his face. Satoru winks back at him in response and realizes now that the water is overflowing and he needs to deal with it, so he turns his attention back to the tea and settles at the table while he waits.
In the evening, after Satoru has forced Megumi to bathe and has put him to bed for the night, he sits on the edge of his own bed in his small little room and presses the heels of his palms into his aching eyes.
Suguru clears his throat from the doorway before stepping in, even if they both know that he doesn’t need to announce his presence.
“Long day, Satoru?”
He sits in between his splayed legs and Satoru’s hands find his hair automatically, a routine they had been building for months since they had bought this little home and brought Megumi to it. He carefully parts the hair to braid it and doesn’t even hide letting his fingers brush against Suguru’s neck for longer than necessary.
“Evey day is the same length,” he answers in an even tone.
He can practically hear Suguru roll his eyes.
“One day I’ll no longer be interested in asking if you’re alright if you continue to ignore the problem,” he scolds.
“That will never happen,” Satoru argues half-heartedly. “You love me too much.”
“Hm.” Suguru huffs but tilts his head until it’s laying in Satoru’s lap and he can look up at him with ease. Satoru moves his hands and curls his fingers against Suguru’s collarbones and dismisses the urge to bend forward and plant a kiss on the lips of his friend.
“You’re tired,” Suguru says matter-of-factly. “Tell me what’s wrong, or I can’t help.”
Satoru frowns and lets his left hand absentmindedly caress the spot under Suguru’s jaw - the reaction is instant of course, and a small noise leaves Suguru’s throat as he leans further into the touch.
“I just need to keep going,” Satoru finally says. “I’m only tired because I haven’t been as active. Life out there - protecting people, it’s important. I need to stay on my toes, put more hours in, hone in my technique.”
“Perhaps.”
“There’s a burden on my shoulders that I need to carry. It should grow lighter the longer I work at it.”
Suguru is quiet for a moment long enough that Satoru feels itchy and antsy in a way that he doesn’t get with other people. He wants reassurance from him. Wants his touch, his words, his comforting (yet knowing) gaze.
“Life out there is important, yes,” Suguru finally murmurs back to him, and Satoru focuses on the way his lips move as he speaks. “But you have a life here - with me. With Megumi. I would rather you be safe and at your best at home than anything else in the world. There are other sorcerers, Satoru. You don’t have to carry the burden alone.”
Satoru lets the whine escape his throat and his thumb brushes against Suguru’s bottom lip.
Years ago, he would have been too scared to touch Suguru like this. Now, it’s habit - natural. It’s like it’s all he’s ever known.
“But I’m -”
“Yes, yes.” Suguru fixes him with a hard stare. “You’re the Six Eyes, things would fall apart without you. But Satoru, things at home…we would fall apart without you. Megumi and I need you. We love you. You may be needed out there but it isn’t your whole life. It shouldn’t be.”
“I’ve been a tool my whole life. A weapon.”
His throat feels like there’s something thick stuck in it and Suguru nuzzles his cheek against his hand.
“They treat you like a weapon out there, but here? You are Satoru Gojo. You’re whatever you want to be, and that’s all that matters.”
Satoru leans forward slightly and uses his thumb to part Suguru’s lips. He wonders what it would feel like to kiss them. He wonders if he will ever have the courage to take that step. Out there in the field he can do anything. At home, he is just Satoru, and Satoru gets scared and tired and needs his friend and his boy to get him through the day.
Suguru looks up at him with those wide eyes that he knows and loves so much.
“To me you are everything,” Suguru whispers against his fingers. “To me, you are everything you already need to be.”
Satoru exhales a low chuckle and pushes Suguru up so he can finish the braid.
“Always such a sap, Suguru,” he teases. “Let’s finish your hair so we can get to bed.”
And hours later, when Suguru is finally retreating to his own room, Satoru calls to him.
“For the record, you’re everything to me too.”
Suguru is smiling when he looks back, and it’s all Satoru needs.
Satoru chases Megumi across the field full of wildflowers and he can hear Suguru yelling from the garden to be careful.
His heart is light.
Megumi pushes his messily painted, wooden blocks towards Satoru with a frown.
“You build the tower, I watch,” he tries to persuade.
“You build half,” Satoru bargains. “Come on, Megumi. I worked all day and I can’t do this all on my own.”
Megumi scowls but he’s just a kid and Satoru laughs at him.
“You’re mean! I want Suguru to come home.”
“If Suguru comes home now then I can’t make dinner,” Satoru argues. “Don’t you want dinner, you silly boy?”
Megumi murmurs a curse word that he probably shouldn’t know, but also probably picked up from Satoru at some point over their time together. He starts to carefully arrange blocks in a way that will hopefully act as a foundation, so Satoru reigns in his focus to help him.
They’re both quiet for a while, the only sound the soft clacking of wood against wood. Satoru pushes his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose and feels the wind slide in from the open window. He thinks about Toji. He thinks about Suguru, out there buying groceries and probably coming across cursed spirits that Satoru hadn’t eradicated earlier that day. He wonders if Megumi is happy with him.
He wonders if he chose the right path, if the end won’t come the way he had seen.
“Megumi,” he calls softly.
Megumi glances at him with a glare. “Don’t talk to me.”
“You know I’m very proud of you, right? And, I love you.”
Megumi sighs and stands up so he can give Satoru a quick hug.
“Are you sad or something?” he asks before sitting back down.
“No, but you are my favorite boy in the world.”
“Besides Suguru,” Megumi counters. “But it’s ok. He’s my favorite, too.”
“Megumi!”
Satoru’s voice is scolding but he laughs anyways and Megumi grins maliciously before swiping his hand under the tower they’d just built. They watch it crumble before Satoru pounces on him for a tickling battle.
Megumi squeals and laughs and Satoru really is happy with his little life.
Satoru finds Suguru sat at the open window. The golden light dances across his face and the lock of hair he keeps over his forehead sways gently in the wind. Despite the beauty, there’s a melancholy presence to the air.
He doesn’t look up as Satoru steps into the room.
“Megumi made you a mud pie,” he says in a low, tired voice, eyes focused on watching the sun dip below the horizon. “I told him to leave it in the garden for you.”
“I’ll eat it later,” Satoru answers, and comes to stand beside Suguru.
The wind is somewhat chilly but the warmth of the sun makes up for it.
“There’s something on your mind.”
It’s less of a question and more of a statement, because Satoru knows Suguru well enough to know when something’s wrong. He knows when to not press either, so when Suguru hums a quiet confirmation but doesn’t move to explain more, he doesn’t ask.
He takes a heavy seat across from him and squints at the golden light through his sunglasses. His legs are long and his foot presses against Suguru’s as he adjusts, but he doesn’t move it. He lets it rest there, and soaks in the warmth and comfort and familiarity.
“Can you believe how long that boy’s hair is getting?” he says instead of asking what’s wrong, and a ghost of a smile creeps onto Suguru’s face. “He wants to be just like his Geto.”
“You refuse to cut it because you think he looks cute like that.”
Suguru’s voice is deadpan because it always is, but it’s ok. Satoru finds a weird comfort in it.
“He looks like a dork,” he snorts.
Suguru looks at him and Satoru looks back. An understanding passes between them and relief settles in his chest - not heavy, not light, either. It comes with the weight of knowing something is wrong but the release of knowing it will be discussed, at some point, when Suguru is ready to express his mind. It will just be. Later.
The sun continues to set and they stay together until it’s time to put Megumi to bed.
Later comes in the dead of night when Satoru is sprawled across his bed and snoring into his pillow. He hears Suguru creep in before he’s even awake, and where he’d normally be alarmed at the sudden intrusion in his room, he knows it’s Suguru immediately. Maybe by the gait of his footsteps, maybe by smell alone, maybe the way his soft breathing is really the only sound.
Satoru doesn’t need to see to know it’s him.
He yawns as he rolls to the other side of the bed without saying a word, making room for Suguru, who sits down silently and hugs his knees to his chest. He digs his cold toes into Satoru’s side where his shirt has ridden up.
He doesn’t complain. It’s Suguru, after all.
It’s quiet enough that their breathing is the only sound in the room, and Satoru’s falling back asleep when Suguru’s somber voice coaxes him back into reality.
“I hate them.”
Only he doesn’t sound hateful or angry, he sounds desperate. Full of guilt, full of regret, full of despair, full of an anguished wallowing that reveals he’s at his breaking point.
Satoru sighs and rolls onto his left side so he can peer up at Suguru. He wraps his lithe fingers around Suguru’s ankle and lets his hand rest there, even if it itches to slip beneath his pants leg and trail up his calf and rest on his bare knee.
“Don’t you think it’s a little late?” he grumbles, a little lightheartedly in an effort to break some tension, but Suguru begins to tremble beneath his touch.
“I hate them,” he whispers again. “I hate them for what they’ve done to us.”
“Ok.” Satoru opens his arms as a peace offering, hoping Suguru will fall into them and they can hold each other and fall asleep and maybe Megumi will come in later, and Suguru (and Satoru, but it’s less about him) will feel complete again with their little family pressed together in bed.
But Suguru pointedly ignores him. He tries to shrug off the sting of rejection.
Maybe he’s just not taking this as seriously as he should.
He clears his throat and makes to sit up.
“Hate who, Suguru?”
“Humans. Non-sorcerers.” Suguru licks his lips and stares blankly ahead. “The cause of all this…this chaos. The curses, the risks. You go out there every day to defend people who never thank you but rather perpetuate the cycle of curses. You risk your life for them while Megumi and I sit at home, waiting for you to come back, not knowing if you’ll come back.”
Satoru’s eyelids are heavy and he presses his nose into the crook of Suguru’s neck. Suguru shudders and leans into him and Satoru hears the hitch in his breath.
“And I eat the curses that I can, but they taste like vomit and sewage and hate and everything wrong in this world. And they wouldn’t be there if it wasn’t for -” He stops himself and Satoru can feel his neck move as he swallows and now his cheek is resting on top of Satoru’s head. “It’s a never ending cycle and I don’t want to lose my family because of them.”
“It sounds like you’re afraid,” Satoru whispers, and his lips brush against Suguru’s neck. He can taste the salt from his sweat and the hint of fragrance from his body wash from his shower earlier. “You’re angry, and afraid, and that’s a perfectly normal reaction to what we face in our day-to-day.”
“I will not lose you because non-sorcerers can’t keep their vile emotions under control.”
“I’ll protect you,” Satoru purrs into Suguru’s neck. “I’ll always protect you.”
“And when you can’t?”
He smiles and shifts forward and presses his lips against Suguru’s skin, and feels his own heart stutter at the small whimper that leaves Suguru’s mouth.
“That will never happen. I will always protect you, and Megumi, and this life that we’ve built together.”
“It’s not fair. Not fair to us, or the kids out there dying every day to kill these curses - none of this is fair.”
“No, it’s not. But -” He shifts and slowly draws Suguru against his chest until they’re both laying down, and he has his arms wrapped delicately around him and Suguru is holding on back. “But we can’t fix this all tonight. We’ll rest until the morning and when the sun shines again, we’ll figure it out. Together.”
Suguru curls his fingers around Satoru’s shirt until he holds it in a loose fist.
“No Infinity?” comes his quiet voice, because they both know Satoru flips it on at night for protection.
“Not for you.” And then, because he thinks it needs to be said, “If I could shoulder all your burdens, Suguru, I would. But we can carry the load together, so it’s not so heavy.”
A beat passes.
“Satoru…” Suguru whispers.
It sounds like a prayer.
Satoru feels himself smile and gathers Suguru as close as he can physically get and they drift off, together.
(Just as he had hoped, Megumi wiggles his way into their bed an hour or so later. The three of them, like it was meant to be).
At some point it’s no longer Satoru’s room and instead it’s their room.
Suguru begins to creep his way in every night, even after his hair is braided and Megumi has been put to bed. Satoru welcomes him with open arms and they fall asleep listening to each other’s heartbeats.
Satoru sits comfortably on the counter with his legs splayed and cup of tea in his hand as he rambles about Nanami’s uninformed suggestions regarding their parenting style. Suguru watches from across the room as he swirls a wooden spoon around his own mug.
“He mentioned that Megumi will need to start school soon,” Satoru says. “Which I - we know, but it’s a little scary isn’t it? Sending him off into the world with all that cursed energy and not knowing what could be waiting for him.”
Suguru raises an eyebrow. “He’s a perfectly capable boy, Satoru. You worry too much.”
“Maybe I should just follow him the first couple of days, make sure no rogue curses creep up on him…”
Suguru snorts. “We’re both protective but the boy needs an education. You and I certainly can’t teach him at home. You’re too busy out there doing god knows what every day, and I would rather parent him, not be an elementary school teacher.”
“Fuck off,” Satoru grumbles, and crosses his arms over his chest.
Suguru smirks and crosses the room. Satoru watches with rapt attention as he steps in between his legs and settles his hands on both of his thighs, fingers splayed wide. He picks at a loose thread on Satoru's pants with his thumb and index finger.
“We’re both parents, Satoru,” he says, and at this angle he towers over Satoru, something he’s not used to. “Being parents means making the best decision for our kid. And right now, it means sending him to school once he turns six. Or do you plan on teaching him to read better with your oh-so-exceptional literacy skills?”
“I can read just fine, thank you!”
Suguru hums and Satoru’s cheeks are pulsing with heat.
A moment passes where they both just study each other, before Suguru is leaning down and pressing a gentle, quick kiss against Satoru’s lips. A choked sort of noise slips past before he’s laughing and cradling Suguru’s head to kiss him fully.
When they pull apart, Suguru looks at him with an arched eyebrow and Satoru glares back.
“I still think I should follow him for a little while.”
“You’re crazy,” Suguru murmurs, and dives in for another kiss.
Satoru likes being in love, and he likes being able to express it freely now, too.
He really likes that, just like everything else with Suguru, they came together so naturally he barely had time to blink and overthink it.
“Hey, Megumi,” Satoru says, crouching down so they’re eye-level. “Suguru and I are in love and we’re together.”
“Ok.” Megumi pushes the train farther down the track and doesn’t even look up from his toys. “Can I have ice cream now?”
Satoru grins and looks up to make eye contact with Suguru, who’s smiling from where he lounges on the armchair.
“I can get you ice cream, kiddo.”
“Megumi,” Suguru calls softly. “I’m sleeping in Satoru’s room now, should you need me.”
Megumi scrunches up his little nose and looks over finally. “You always sleep in Satoru’s room.”
A deep blush flushes over Suguru’s skin. Satoru laughs.
“Yes, you’re so right.” He ruffles Megumi’s hair. “I want to kiss Suguru, too. Is that alright by you?”
“Satoru!” Suguru scolds as Megumi huffs and answers, “Gross.”
There’s a pause before Satoru tackles Megumi, tickling his sides. Megumi squeals and struggles in his hold.
“Satoru! Stop!” He laughs and kicks but Satoru does not let up.
“You’re still my favorite!” Satoru promises in between the shouts and giggles, and catches Suguru’s beaming smile from the chair.
It’s a good little life.
Satoru pulls Megumi up against his chest and presses a kiss against his messy black hair. Beside him, Suguru murmurs something in his sleep and tightens his hold against Satoru’s waist.
Life like this, it was meant to be.
He wouldn’t have it any other way.