geto reaction to you getting badly injured in a mission with him
stay with me - geto suguru
summary: when you get badly injured in a mission with geto
thanks for the req! hope you enjoy. this one is longer, set in 3rd year + no geto expulsion or kenjaku possession lol, fluff turned angst turned fluff, descriptions of violence/fighting ykyk. prob my fave thing i've written :') pls enjoy!
words: 2423
"on your left."
"yes, sir!"
it wasn't uncommon for geto and you to get assigned for the same missions. you were known to work extremely well together, efficiently damning curses as you defeated them one by one. in fact, whenever it was something urgent, yaga tended to send the two of you together rather than geto and gojo, because he couldn't always trust gojo those two to stay focused on what needed to get done.
you had known geto ever since you entered tokyo jujutsu high, quickly forming a friendship with the boy as you initially bonded over ear gauges. you had been dreaming of doing it for yourself for the past few years, but were too unsure of the process to get started. geto encouraged you to take the risk and helped you through all of it, even going out with you to pick the best gauges for beginners. he practically became your q&a source, answering all your questions which ranged from "is it too soon for me to move up a size yet?" to "how can i hide these from my parents?"
your initial friendship only grew from there, occasionally hanging out in each other's dorm rooms or meeting up at a cafe to get some work done. you talked about anything and everything, whether that be zaru soba (his favorite food), gojo's antics, your 1v1 sparring session tallies (currently at 13-8, you in the lead), or the way yaga-sensei seemed to have a never ending collection of glasses. he was funny, really funny, and though he condemned gojo for his never ending unseriousness, these parts shined through geto himself as well. he wasn't a stranger to pranks, sometimes hiding fake bugs on your desk or even that one time where he replaced your favorite pair of shoes with an exact copy that was just one size smaller.
however, on days that hit a little harder, you'd head over to his dorm and sprawl out on his bed as he sat on the floor next to you. on these nights, geto would open up about his fears that gojo was pulling away from him, and you'd talk about the way you felt like the better you performed the better you were expected to do. neither of you really knew what to say to fix things, as you were just two almost-adults thrown into dangerous situations nearly everyday. what else could either of you do except listen? you'd remain on the bed and he'd stay seated on the floor, gazing up at you as you spoke about whatever was worrying you.
it was hard to keep your eyes off of him, as his silky black hair seemed to perfectly flow down the smoothness of his face and neck. sometimes, the two of you would make brief eye contact and then quickly look away, geto awkwardly chuckling to himself as you felt heat crawl up your neck, quickly changing the subject to something stupid, pointing out how the cracks on geto's ceiling resembled a cat if you squinted.
these nights would end once you let out a particularly loud yawn, rolling off his bed and finding your footing as you'd offer a hand to help him up. once at his door, you'd smile at each other, geto oftentimes laughing at the way your clothes would get all wrinkled after lying down on his comforter. you'd exchange goodbyes and leave his room, and that was pretty much it.
therefore, you two were not quite friends but also not quite lovers. stuck somewhere at an awkward in-between.
it was impossible for shoko to miss the way geto would automatically guide you through a busy crowd, steering you with one hand oh so close to your waist. she never missed how you would always grab a few extra napkins for him before heading to the lunch table, just in case he had forgotten to take some with his tray.
gojo, despite his silly exterior, was nonetheless extremely observant, often sharing knowing looks with shoko as the four of you walked from class to class. his jokes slowly started to incorporate you and geto, laughing loudly at you two arguing over which water was yours and which was his, leading to him declaring that you "sounded like an old married couple." you and geto simply stared at him in silence, eyes widening as a smile twitched at the edge of geto's mouth.
neither of you made a move for something more. it might've been fear of unreciprocated feelings, the idea that being a curse user was already a risky job, or just unwillingness to confront each other. whatever it was, this "in-between" became something of a home for the two of you, where you resided not-so comfortably but still content.
"suguru, i think there's one hiding behind that column," you murmur into his ear, not wanting to alert it.
"i think so, too. i see a trail of cursed energy heading that way. you want to come with me or check out the rest of this mall?" he responds, not taking his eyes off of the corner of the first floor, which was harboring an excess amount of cursed energy. you don't miss the way he subtly shifts to stand in front of you, putting another layer of protection between you and the curse (not that you need it, anyway, but the action still makes something flutter in your stomach).
"what, don't think you can fight it alone?" you smirk. "need my help?"
geto squints at you briefly. "i'll meet you on the second floor. be careful," he responds, lightly calling attention to his last statement as he softly adds your name at the end, making sure you hear him.
it's not that he thinks you aren't capable. quite the opposite, actually. every day you only amaze him more and more with your abilities. he's certainly no stranger to ending up on the ground underneath you after sparring sessions, quickly claiming your victory. however, he knows that things can always go wrong, which is why he usually feels more comfortable staying with you during missions like these. nevertheless, you both want to get out of there as fast as possible, with the promise of lunch waiting. and not that either of you would admit it, but something is seriously weird about this mall. curse users were in no way unfamiliar with abandoned locations, but it was hard to say that they'd ever get truly comfortable with it.
"yeah, you too," you whisper-command back before heading to the second floor.
walking up a broken escalator, you couldn't help but let your thoughts wander just a little. at the way geto seemed to keep you in his sight at all times. at the way you guys worked so well together. but what about outside of the battlefield? outside of curses? geto, the ever so amazing friend, what would he be like in a romantic relationship?
you imagine what it would be like to wake up next to him. his arm thrown lightly over your waist, pulling you closer into him. his breath softly falling on your neck as he unconsciously pushes his head further into your shoulder and tightens his grip on you. you'd turn around, looking at his sleeping figure, mesmerized by how someone could be so utterly beautiful even while resting. you'd play with his hair, woven into a loose braid (which you've commanded him to do, noting that protective hairstyles were necessary to keep hair healthy. and by god, did you need his gorgeous hair to stay healthy).
you're thrown out of your daydreaming, zoning in on a specific section of the second floor where you hear quiet clanging coming from. heading closer, you prepare for combat, completely unaware of the curse approaching you from behind.
just as you're about to blast the boxes where the noise came from, you're grabbed and thrown against the wall as the curse attacks.
"fuck," you groan, mentally noting to pick up a few ice packs on the way back to campus.
scrambling to your feet, you begin landing punch after punch on the curse, who you've mentally assessed to be much higher than the grade 2 curses you and geto were originally sent to defeat.
the lights overhead buzz like dying flies — a cold, flickering strobe across cracked tile and broken storefronts. the abandoned mall breathes like a tomb, empty and echoing. you now notice more than ever that everything here is faded: the rusted escalators, the torn banners, the blood — no, your blood — smeared across the shattered floor.
the curse itself is massive. eight grotesque eyes that glow like those of wolves in a quiet forest, waiting to kill. it lunges to meet you, faster than it should be. claws rip through the air. you duck, barely. you roll over a patch of broken glass, cursing out loud as you feel the shards tear into your skin, drawing blood.
you twist, charge up, and launch a heavy strike at its body, slamming it into its side. the curse shrieks in pain, but still isn't dead.
"you can do this," you murmur, hyping yourself up in the face of this utterly terrifying monster.
the next few minutes are almost too fast to describe. you get thrown into stacks of shopping carts. you rip off the curse's arm. you choke on blood, no doubt yours. the curse contorts in pain. it grabs you by the neck. your vision blurs. yet, you push on.
you land one final blow, and you swear all you see is white. hot, blinding white. then nothing.
when the dust settles, the curse is gone.
"well, would you look at that," you smirk, proud of yourself.
then you stumble. and you stumble once more.
you collapse to the floor, falling to your knees in pain. you hunch over, using your palms to keep you up from crumpling completely. you allow yourself to sit flat on your butt, grimacing at the pain shooting up your body. you lean back against a toppled vending machine, using it as support.
"holy shit," you hear near the broken escalator. weakly, you turn your head at the source of the voice.
you see geto, just as handsome as earlier. his eyes sweep the area, noticing the collapsed pillar, the smoldering remains of a curse, the dust still settling.
then his eyes find you.
he doesn't waste a single moment before sprinting over, kneeling in front of you and grabbing you by the shoulders.
"what the fuck?" geto chants your name over and over, eyes scanning over your body. despite the situation, you can't help but feel yet another flutter in your stomach under his gaze.
"suguru," you mutter, unable to even pinpoint the source of your pain as it was coming from all directions.
"what the fuck happened? you were supposed to just scan the second floor. that's it," geto says sharply, unable to mask his concern.
he cups your face, firm enough to force you to look at him, but gentle enough so as to not hurt you.
"answer me," he pleads.
"was just looking. heard a sound in the corner. went to inspect, but it was a trap. got attacked from behind. killed it, if you couldn't tell. a 'great job' or 'wow, you're so amazing' would be nice," you muse, weakly smiling.
geto's mouth twists like he's trying to be mad, but you still see a glimmer of pride in his eyes. "you could've died."
"'m still here. what happened downstairs?"
"you could've," he scolds. he brushes glass shards from your forehead, fingers lingering near your temple. "it was a trap. nothing there. i was confused at first, kept inspecting 'till i realized the real problem was upstairs. came as fast as i could," he huffs out. you hum in response, too tired to say anything.
“i should’ve gotten up here faster,” he continues. he's moving his hands all over your body now, assessing the extent of your injuries.
“you were fighting, too.”
“i still should’ve—” he cuts himself off, then just exhales, tired and grateful and furious all at once. “i hate this.”
“hate what?”
“this.” he stares into your eyes. “when you scare me like that. when i don’t know if i'm gonna find you bleeding out or not breathing.”
“i'm still breathing,” you reply.
"doesn't matter."
"okay, ouch?"
geto's gaze drops down a little. you watch him, unsure if he's looking at the blood trickling down the side of your face or your lips. you hope it's the latter.
"...suguru?" you hesitate to ask, unsure if you even want to know the answer.
he doesn't respond at first. then, after a moment quietly asks, "can i kiss you now?" you don't miss the pleading look in his eyes.
"please," you beg softly.
silence fills the air once again. full of things unsaid. full of all the almosts you've carried over the years. you've both been in this situation before. not here, as in the mall, but here, as in moments like these, toeing the line of something more than friendship.
geto leans in—slow, cautious. merely a few inches away now, you close the gap, jumping over that in-between the two of you have become comfortable with. and then finally, the kiss—
it's soft, tentative — more breath than pressure at first. your lips brush once, hesitate, then press again with more weight. a little hungrier. a little more desperate. you slide up your hand to tangle in his hair, lightly brushing your nails against his scalp. he groans against your mouth.
years of restraint melt into those few seconds. the quiet longing. the stolen glances. the closeness disguised as casual friendship. all of it, folded into this one kiss.
you don't know how much time has passed when you pull away. a few seconds, minutes maybe. all you can think about is how soft geto's lips are. how they seem to mold perfectly with yours.
at first, geto looks at you with wonder in his eyes, silently questioning how someone as beautiful and smart as you could ever fall for someone as complicated as him.
then, geto leans his forehead against yours and sighs heavily. "scared the shit out of me, you know."
"what else am i here for?" you smile, leaning your head back against the vending machine again. you reach up with your right hand to cup his face. you swear geto pushes his cheek deeper into your hand.