The moonlight washed the night in silver, torches flickering softly around the reservoir near the still waters of the oasis.
Gojo lay stretched across Yuji's lap, his head resting comfortably against Yuji's stomach. Yuji absentmindedly ran his fingers through Gojo's soft white hair, the strands slipping easily between his hands. Gojo, as usual, took the chance to breathe in Yuji's scent, relaxed and unbothered. Yuji barely noticed anymore, it had become such a habit that it felt natural.
Sometimes, this was all they did: sit together beneath the endless sky, watching stars crowd the heavens. Whenever a shooting star streaked across, Yuji would squeeze his eyes shut to make a wish, whispering it under his breath.
"Senpai," Yuji teased, tugging lightly at his hairline, "when are you gonna shave your moustache and beard? You're starting to look like Santa Claus. A skinny Santa with patchy facial hair."
Gojo cracked a lazy grin, eyes still closed. "Why don't you do it for me? You already cut my hair, might as well finish the job. Saves me the effort."
"Tch. Lazy old man," Yuji muttered, though his lips quirked.
Gojo hummed in satisfaction at Yuji's touch, sinking further into his lap.
"Oh, by the way," Yuji said, still combing his fingers through his hair, "how's your fifth boat coming along?"
"Finally floats!" Gojo announced triumphantly without opening his eyes. "The others were… let's call them prototypes. But this one–this one's a masterpiece."
Yuji turned his gaze toward the handmade wooden boat tied near the water's edge. He couldn't help but smile. His senpai really was talented.
"You're really cool, you know," Yuji admitted softly.
Gojo peeked one eye open, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. Yuji quickly pressed his fingers against the corner of Gojo's eye, brushing over the dark circles there. "Cool, but you need to rest more. You've got eyebags."
Gojo's smile softened, and without answering, he let his eyes slip shut again. He pressed his face closer against Yuji's stomach, inhaling deeply as if he could lose himself there.
"Yuji-kun…" Gojo's voice was muffled against him, low and half-lost.
Yuji tilted his head, listening.
"…I'm craving mochi. I miss mochi."
Yuji huffed a small laugh, carding his fingers through Gojo's messy hair. "There aren't any ingredients for mochi here, Senpai." His tone was gentle, though.
"Mochi…" Gojo repeated stubbornly, like a child refusing to give up, his voice fading until it disappeared into Yuji's shirt.
Yuji shook his head, amused and worried all at once. "Senpai… let's go upstairs, okay? You sound really tired."
Gojo made a low sound of protest but eventually sat up cross-legged, his hair sticking out in wild tufts, thin moustache and stubble shadowing his jaw. He looked completely unkempt… yet somehow still effortlessly handsome.
But Yuji didn't miss the fatigue in his senpai's face, the faint slump of his shoulders, the heaviness in his gaze.
"Seriously, you look exhausted," Yuji muttered, rising to his feet. He reached out and tugged gently at Gojo's hand. "Come on."
Gojo let himself be pulled along, still grumbling half-heartedly about mochi. Yuji only shook his head again, leading him back toward their room.
+++
Ting tong💫
Even the so-called strongest sorcerer–well, former sorcerer now, was still human. And humans could catch fevers.
Gojo lay sprawled on the bed, a damp cloth folded neatly across his forehead, his pale hair damp with sweat. His cheeks were flushed red from heat, his grin lazily tugging at his lips even in his weakened state.
Yuji, sitting cross-legged beside him, wrung out another cloth in cool water and replaced the warm one. He pressed the back of his hand to Gojo's neck and frowned. "Still hot,"
"Senpai, you worked yourself too hard," Yuji scolded, voice sharp in that nagging, motherly way. "You have to rest too, you know? Not just keep building and hammering like a crazy old man."
Gojo chuckled weakly, eyes half-lidded. "Hehehe, okay, Yuji."
"Don't 'hehehe' me," Yuji snapped, though his hand moved gently as he adjusted the cloth. "You already worked yourself to death back in the real world. So here, after dying, you're supposed to actually rest, not push yourself harder."
The frustration in his voice cracked a little, softening. He reached to the side and picked up a small bowl, dates he had mashed and mixed with water, the closest thing to medicine he could prepare. He dipped a spoon in and nudged it toward Gojo's lips. "Here, eat. It's good for you."
Gojo obediently opened his mouth, accepting the sweet mixture, and hummed softly. "Mmm. You're a good nurse, Yuji-kun."
Yuji rolled his eyes. "More like the only nurse you've got." He sighed, looking down at him with both annoyance and worry written across his face.
Gojo's laugh was faint, but the sparkle in his eyes was still there. Even sick, he looked untouchable, skin unburned despite the desert heat, beauty as unchanging as ever.
"Seriously though," Yuji muttered, softer this time, almost to himself. "Take care of yourself too, Senpai… I don't want to lose you here."
Gojo's smile curved tenderly, and for once, he didn't tease or make light of it. "You won't, Yuji-kun." His hand twitched weakly against the blanket, as if reaching for Yuji's.
Yuji immediately noticed, caught it, and squeezed tightly.
"Please get better soon, Senpai," Yuji murmured, worry etched into every line of his face.
The whole day, Yuji stayed at gojo's side. He fed him, kept wiping his forehead, and now that night had fallen, he refused to let Gojo brush off his care.
When Yuji suggested helping him wash up, Gojo shook his head for the third–or maybe fourth–time. "No, it's okay, Nurse Yuji. I can handle it myself."
"I'll do it," Yuji replied, stubborn determination burning in his eyes.
Gojo, too tired to argue further, sighed and lifted a hand in surrender. "Fine, Yuji-kun. I give up."
With careful steps, Yuji guided his towering mentor to the bathroom nearby. He dragged a chair in for him to sit, then helped slip off his robe. Gojo didn't resist when Yuji tugged the fabric away from his shoulders, baring his lean chest. But when Yuji's hands moved toward the waistline—
"Aip. Yuji. That's far enough," Gojo protested lightly.
Yuji's eyes flashed, his voice firm. "I'll help, Senpai. Don't be embarrassed. I already know what you look like, anyway."
Gojo huffed out a laugh, the corners of his lips twitching. Too weak to argue, he let Yuji finish. Soon, he was completely bare, sitting there with his long legs stretched out, hair damp from sweat.
Yuji filled a small bucket and poured cool water gently over his mentor's shoulders. Gojo shut his eyes, exhaling as the relief sank in. But with his senses heightened by fever, he couldn't escape the scent, Yuji's scent. Sweet. Overwhelming. Pheromone-laced.
Gojo's jaw tightened. His breathing grew uneven, his body betraying him no matter how much he willed it not to. Heat coiled low in his belly, tightening until the ache in his cock was impossible to ignore.
Yuji, crouched with his back turned as he refilled the bucket, didn't notice at first. His own pants were soaked with splashes of water, clinging to him. The way he bent forward, the line of his back, the curve of his hips, it was temptation Gojo couldn't ignore.
Before he could stop himself, Gojo leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Yuji's waist from behind, pulling him close. His lips pressed into the crook of Yuji's neck, inhaling desperately.
"Senpai?" Yuji jolted, startled. The heat radiating off Gojo's body shocked him even more. "Your fever's getting worse!" He tried to turn, but Gojo's hold only tightened.
"No," Gojo murmured against his skin, voice raw, "don't move. Stay like this… just for a while."
Yuji froze, heart hammering. He could feel his senpai's breath on his neck, the tremor in his voice, and most uncomfortably, the hard pressure against his lower back.
His face burned. But yuji forced himself to think positively. Fever could do strange things, right? Back when he still had his own manhood, he knew sometimes the body reacted on its own when heat spiked. This was just… the same.
Still, his chest squeezed tight as Gojo buried his face against him, refusing to let go.
"S-senpai..Y-you're burning up more…" Yuji stammered, trying to sound rational even as his heartbeat thundered in his chest.
Gojo let out a low groan, the sound vibrating against Yuji's spine. "It's not just the fever…" His lips brushed the curve of Yuji's shoulder, lingering there, trembling as if he were seconds away from losing all restraint.
Yuji's body tensed, unsure whether to pull away or stay still. "S-senpai… maybe I should—"
"Don't," Gojo interrupted, arms tightening around him. His breath was hot, ragged, fanning against Yuji's skin. For a moment, it felt like he was on the verge of kissing, biting, devouring. Yuji's own breath caught, his face burning.
The air between them thickened, heavy with heat and unspoken desire. Yuji could feel the frantic beat of Gojo's heart against his back, and the faint shudder of his hands where they gripped his waist.
But just as the moment threatened to tip over the edge, Gojo's body jerked with a tremor. He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to pull away. "Damn it—!" He shoved Yuji forward, more forceful than he intended.
Yuji stumbled, startled, turning back with wide eyes. "Senpai—?"
"Out." Gojo's voice cracked, half-command, half-beg. His fever-bright eyes were dark with both hunger and self-loathing. "Get out, Yuji. Now."
Yuji hesitated, worry and embarrassment tangled in his chest. But the raw desperation in Gojo's tone left no room for protest.
"…Fine. But I'm not going far," Yuji murmured, ears red as he hurried out, the door clicking shut behind him.
Left alone in the steam, Gojo collapsed back into the chair, dragging a trembling hand over his face. His chest heaved as he muttered, half-laughing, half-cursing himself. "Stupid… I almost—" He tilted his head back, exhaling shakily.
"Fuck."
Even feverish, his body betrayed him; heat throbbed low in his stomach, his hard rock cock refusing to subside. With a bitter laugh, Gojo gave in, unable to stop himself from seeking release.