#goodniiight

😆i have no idea the context of that interaction, sounds like something inspired by Gojo and Nanami's terrible Hokkaido work adventure, but it did make me giggle bc you're absolutely correct

"Why is he like this?"

"Hmm?" you turned slowly. Satoru had kept you up last night. You stifled a yawn. You'd spent over six hours humoring him through losing spectacularly at final fantasy fifteen. Or at least you thought it was losing, could you lose that kind of game? Either way, you were pleasantly sleepy and the world felt washed in cotton.

So you thought Nanami had spoken, but maybe that was just many years of getting good at reading the gradation of Kento Nanami's Shades of Exasperation.

Nanami was staring at you and so was Satoru, with a kind of familiar hesitation that indicated he was awaiting some kind of reaction from one or both of you. So you decided that whether or not Nanami had spoken was probably irrelevant.

Your kouhai's expression now told you he was seriously wondering whether or not you'd been hit on the head when he wasn't looking. It wasn't like you'd complain about it if you had been.

"I'll go with you, Satoru," you said, equably, gazing up into your mate's covered eyes and falling back on something that occasionally satisfied whatever mood he was in, although efficacy tended to depend upon what exactly he wanted. Where were promising to go? No clue, but hopefully somewhere where you could get something to drink. As you'd grown older, staying awake all or most of the night seemed to make you more inclined to dehydration the next day.

A loud, whiny "Noo-ooo," left Satoru's lips. They were glossy with just a slightly darker shade of pink at the center like he'd freshly applied the lip tint you'd bought him last week. He'd said it was some limited edition thing that tasted, or at least smelled like it should taste, like umeshu.

"Of course you'd come--" Satoru had continued with making a scene, and Nanami looked like he was starting to grind his jaw a little, which was a bad habit both you and Shoko had been trying to break him of, "--unless you're the kind of alpha to leave me alone--".

You reached for Nanami's shoulder to prod him but your hand was snatched from the air and enfolded into Satoru's, a jealous tint to the air that you knew was all performative. Probably.

At least that had worked. Nanami looked like his mouth was about to drop open.

You wanted to point out that Satoru was already well on the way to crocodile tears by this point. "I thought the crying was going to be for Nanami," you teased with a tired, almost fond sigh.

A loud, near approximation of a whining, petulant sob left Satoru's pink lips. You wondered if there was actually any alcohol in the lip tint. Maybe the fumes were going to his head.

"Why are you ganging up on me!?" he exclaimed, ridiculous and provocative, and clearly angling to see where this was going.

Fine. Never let it be said that you didn't know how to go for a killing blow, even against Gojo Satoru,

"Well, you look awful pretty when you cry. I just thought I'd give you a chance to show it off," you said, reaching up to cup his cheek, the very image of an alpha placating an omega.

Nanami's palm hit his face with a near audible little smack. Whoops.

Satoru snickered as he drew you up the street, long legs eating up the distance so smooth it was almost like he was gliding. You followed along, trailing for a bit just to make sure Nanami was in fact, grudgingly, trudging along in Satoru's wake.