it's been two days, and nerd!gojo is nowhere to be found.
as his one and only bully, you can't help but be worried.
did he get hurt when you shoved him in the locker that one time? did he get sick when you made him eat out of the trash?
weak nerd with his weak ass immune system. you should've been feeding him more dirt.
more importantly, what if you get in trouble for his skinny, frail, weak ass?
not on your watch.
you tell the teacher that you'll deliver gojo's homework to him, which she completely believes for some reason ("oh, how sweet! you two are always together") and she gives you his home address, too, with a wink.
weird, but whatever.
when you get to his house you want to beat his worthless ass all over again. ugh. of course gojo lives in a beautiful, massive house in a super upscale neighborhood you're sort of embarrassed to be seen in.
you think about your clothes, second-hand, not quite fitted right. your worn but comfy shoes. just... ugh.
but there's an intercom, and after you say your name, school, and class that you're delivering gojo's schoolwork for, the door gate opens.
when you get in, it's immediately obvious which room is gojo's - he's got an asuka poster on his door. it's completely out of place in the modern, sleek decor. only gojo could be so tacky.
you don't waste any time striding up there, throwing open the door and glaring at the pitiful wet paper towel of a boy on the bed.
and, well... he is sick, of that you have no doubt.
laying back in bed, half-propped up on pillows. his pale skin looks even paler with the dark circles around his eyes, his red nose, a pile of crumbled up tissues on either side of him.
there's a dampness on his shirt, a graphic tee, and an empty water bottle at his bedside.
"you look like shit," you say, shutting the door behind you and setting his papers on the table.
gojo half-laughs, but mostly it just comes out as a cough.
"no, it's just the flu. been going around. i think i got it from the housekeeper, actually, she took some time off recently."
a housekeeper? fucking gross. you hope he dies. rich people. ugh.
but you can't help but notice. there's no more water, plus you can't see any food around here. and gojo looks absolutely miserable.
you've only been sick once when you were a kid, but it wasn't so bad. things were different back then, though.
"well, since i'm here." you plop the homework in front of him, generously allowing him your pen, "get to work."
he's staring, blankly, at the sheet. eyes scrunching as if in consternation.
before he can insist that you need to work on it together, you stride out of the room.
a faint "wait!" sounds behind you as you shut the door, but you don't mind it.
it's a quick trip to the kitchen. you spend a couple minutes searching through cabinets full of wine glasses (wine glasses? seriously, in his home kitchen?) until you find a cup.
you fill it with water, and then, in a fit of generosity, you fill up a second cup for gojo. let it never be said that you hit a man while he was down.
somehow, when you come back up, gojo is still contemplating the homework sheet as if it held the secrets of the universe.
"hello?" you say out loud. gojo blinks, looking over at you with that blank, dopey expression.
"did you get anything at all done?" there's nothing on the paper. "drama queen."
"ah," gojo says, sniffling, eyes wincing shut, "sorry, it's hard to concentrate... i have a raging headache."
absolutely useless. you set the water down beside him, but gojo slumps back against the pillows.
he looks up at you with big, blue, pleading eyes.
"can't reach... help me?" his voice is high, his expression utterly pitiful. like some kicked puppy.
maybe it's because his throat actually does sound pretty raw. his hair is even more unkempt than usual, in a greasy, scraggly way, his tired eyes and miserable expression squeezing a drop of undeserved sympathy out of your stony heart.
mostly it's because you want him to do your homework that you begrudgingly hold up the water to his mouth and tip it carefully for him to drink.
"what," you grouse, "mommy and daddy not here to coddle you?"
gojo takes a long gulp, swallowing heavily, and letting out an exaggerated ah~ afterwards.
"the housekeeper does that," he says, shifting against the pillows to get comfortable, "but she's not here. i really was dying before you arrived. you saved me," he crows, somehow proud of his utter display of weakness and ineptitude.
you stare at his legs pointedly. "do you have a cold and leprosy? at least go get yourself some medicine."
the puppy dog eyes, again, "i tried! but i got lightheaded and dizzy! it's in the bathroom cupboard, the one closest to my room, pleeeeease-"
"what, now i'm your errand girl?" you snap, already standing up.
something flashes in gojo's eyes, and he keels forward, lurching to grab you by the hand.
"wait, wait! i didn't mean it like that, please don't leave!"
the tone in his voice sends a pang through your chest.
"...i have to leave to get the medicine," your voice comes out awkward, like something's stuck in your throat. "idiot."
gojo's so easy to read, relief on his face clear as day. "oh! okay! we can - we can order delivery, too! my treat! you just have to pick it up for me!"
"i get to choose the restaurant," you grumble, and gojo's already on his phone.
it's a pretty good deal. even though you'll have to endure his presence for a while. and do your own homework without help.
but whatever. it's not like you couldn't do it yourself. you just didn't want to, and it was better having gojo check your answers.
there's just... something weird about this.
"gojo," you ask, hesitant. "i told the intercom i had your homework for you and it let me in. are your parents home?"
he shrugs, "oh yeah, probably."
then why aren't they helping, you want to say - for once in your life, you stop yourself.
why aren't they helping their precious perfect son? what, do they think he's a loser as much as you do?
the thought prickles inside you, uncomfortable, unwelcome. you try to brush it aside. it's none of your business.
maybe gojo's parents find him as unbearable as you do -
even that thought seems a bit too harsh. he's not actually that annoying.
your walk to the bathroom is uneventful. you don't run into anyone, but you do see it - a light under a door at the end of the hallway.
"...if he needs to go to the hospital... no, he won't, a classmate came by with his schoolwork."
the voice is distant, faint. unconcerned.
"...so they want to meet tomorrow night? i'll have to get the reports ready..."
what a drama queen. even his own parents aren't worried about him.
you ignore the bad taste in your mouth as you re-enter gojo's room, where he's looks far too chipper for a sick person.
satoru smiles at you, quickly maneuvering his phone underneath his blanket.
getowo: stop crying, you big baby, i'm on my way over. satoruwu: nvm!!! dont come satoruwu: youll never guess who came to nurse me back to health getowo: so you're hallucinating satoruwu: im not! my bully does house calls <3 we're gonna eat together hehe~ getowo: i'll be there in ten. satoruwu: I TOLD U DONT COME
"gojo?" he drops the phone in his lap, internally cursing.
"yeah?" satoru slumps back, sniffing again, giving you his best pathetic face.
you roll your eyes, "I got your stuff. what did you order?" actually, you don't care. "i want pizza."
"i know this place that makes the best soup," satoru pulls his phone right back out again, "i can get you pizza, too, what kind?"
when you tell him your favorite, he tells you his.
"why are you telling me this? i thought you wanted soup?"
"yeah, but now you know what my favorite is~ we should order some for one of our study dates. we can do halvsies! actually, your fave sounds good-"
you cut him off (so decisive! super hot of you) and tell him to just put in the order. he puts the pizza idea in his notes app, just in case.
"help me take the medicine?" satoru says, half-hopeful, giving you his best puppy dog eyes.
"if you can order delivery, you can drink some water," you say, setting your homework on his desk on the other side of the room.
it's way too high, which makes sense, for his freakishly long limbs -
"oh, it's height adjustable! there's a button, you can lower it!"
you take in his words, leaning back, and you see it. there's an electric whirr as the table falls down. "huh." neat.
"nifty, right!" satoru coughs extra pitifully, "do you think you could help me out? just for a minute?"
you ignore him. it's so obvious he doesn't actually need your help. why is he even asking? it would be faster to do it himself.
whatever. he'll do it when he wants to.
you snatch one of his pens and start working.
it's silent for a bit, the sound of pen scratching against paper filling the air. a little sniffle from the far corner interrupting you.
"...please?" his voice sounds terribly small.
you take a deep, sharp breath. then you stand up and walk over to him.
just to shut him up, obviously. he's so whiney.
only, when you sit down next to him with the cup of water and the pills, his big blue eyes gazing up at you while he gives you a weak smile, that assessment feels a little... mean.
whatever. so you feel a little sorry for him. fine, he's sick. and he's playing it up, too, although his skin does feel a bit feverish when you touch it.
you press the back of your hand - chilled from holding the water glass for him - against his forehead, and gojo sighs in relief, slumping back into the pillow.
he really should be sleeping. he probably needs a shower and a change of clothes, but you're not sticking around for that, and if he needs your help taking meds, he'll need your help with the soup, too.
absently, you run your fingers through his hair. it's so white. and soft, but you can feel some dampness from the fever.
gojo's eyes flutter shut, and he gives out a gentle sigh.
he's quiet for a moment, and you almost think he's falling asleep.
"...can we watch neon genesis evangelion? i have the latest movie."
naturally, his room has a giant flatscreen in it. it's not that messy, either, but you attribute that to the housekeeper.
you roll your eyes, "god, you and your freaky anime. fine, whatever you want."
he's eager, then, lighting up at your words. it's such a weird look on him, all exhausted and sick but still happy.
"we can start from the first one, so you know what's going on!" gojo babbles, "i bet you'll love asuka. she's just like you - "
your cheeks flush, "it's fine! we can just watch your latest movie. i don't need a whole marathon."
you'd looked it up in your free time, just to see what gojo's rambling was about. and maybe you'd gone through some of it online. just to know how bad his taste was.
it's not a bad night, though.
maybe you don't get your homework done - you'll have to get to it tomorrow - but you sit there, next to gojo, on his super comfy (probably super expensive) bed.
the soup arrives before the pizza. you're hungry, and you take great pleasure in blowing on the spoon, pretending to guide it into gojo's mouth, then diverting it to yours at the last moment.
but you're generous enough to feed him, after. it's all with the movies playing in the background.
gojo started with the first evangelion movie, but you're not about to give away that you know.
he likes to narrate over it, and it's fun telling him all the reasons why his takes are wrong. but you have to tell him to shut up once his voice grows hoarse.
then the pizza comes. he looks at you so sadly whenever you head to the door. like a dog watching its owner go to work. ugh.
so maybe... you lose track of time it's a comfy bed, comfy pillows, nice soft blankets once you clean up all his used tissues and the takeaway boxes.
definitely no funny business or anything. you wouldn't be this close to him if he weren't deathly sick.
he says he's deathly sick. maybe this feels like dying for a crybaby like him, you don't know.
but you know, briefly, with your shoulder pressed into his; you're tired. you ate way too much pizza. it's warm in here, safe - gojo is a wet paper towel most days, and today, he's a used tissue, totally unthreatening.
so if you lose track of time and fall asleep... well. nobody will care anyways.
when satoru wakes up, he has to admit - he feels a lot better.
last night was pretty great, even if he'd been sick. it was like a dream! he got to spend all that time with you! just relaxing and watching shows and being hand-fed!
and you even got him water and medicine! and you helped him eat!
it was a while before suguru got out of school, and this night was worse than last night. with the housekeeper gone, he could barely get up for water or food.
even suguru wouldn't have been able to stick around. he hadn't been looking forward to spending the night sick and miserable and all alone in his bed, body full of aches and pains and hunger.
but you saved him! you even stayed the night - heheh. in a way, you basically slept with him, right?
suguru might not ever believe it, but satoru knows. you're really warming up to him. you actually like him, deep down -
when he looks around, though, you're already gone.
