—gender neutral reader, teen gojo x reader hence the preferred use of glasses, established relationship, slight cursing, just a fluffy scenario i had to post with my crippling gojo brainrot before i hibernate once again
“ah.” GOJO says flatly out of nowhere. “my head's starting to hurt.”
you subtly glance at him from the reflection of the opposing side of the train's tinted windows, watching the way he removes his glasses and rubs at his eyes. you inwardly sigh.
“i can't tell if you're being serious or you just want attention.”
gojo gasps dramatically from beside you, “why would i lie about something like that?”
“can you really blame me for being distrusting?” you say blankly, giving him and and his offended face the stink eye, “especially with the amount of times you've whined out to me like some child who wants to get uppies from his mother?”
you silently relish in the way he stays silent, pouting at you whilst a victorious grin rests on your lips, your gaze returning back to the novel in your hands.
“told you so.”
he whines your name in defeat and lays his head against your shoulder, “my head does hurt though...”
the way he said it urges you to think that he is, indeed, not kidding, and most definitely wasn't just seeking attention—voice stripped of any type of cheeriness, coming out hoarse more than anything.
you pursue your lips as your gaze quickly flits to his face, before dropping to the sunglasses situated on his lap, folded neatly as his eyes are closed shut.
right. the object reminds you of what is probably causing him the headache. six eyes.
your heart nearly cracks at the small grimace on his expression, jaw clenched as his arms are crossed, head still leaning against your shoulder as he focuses on heaving steady breaths. you immediately feel bad now. terrible. horrid.
“toru,” you say, alarmed, slightly panicking as you drop your novel onto your lap, hand situating themselves on both sides of his face as his eyes still remain shut. “i thought you said the glasses helped?”
“they do,” he croaks out, the grimace slowly disappearing as he takes in the warmth of your palms, “but they don't just block out everything, you know.”
“did you overuse your eyes again?” you're ready to scold him, he can tell from the way your tone is slowly turning into one of a nagging mother hen. “this is why you should use blindfolds.”
he only breathes a noise of contentment when you start rubbing circles on his temples, practically melting in your hold.
“well—to be fair,” he starts, one eye opening, and sarcasm still evidently present even with a headache, “we were up against a pretty tricky special grade earlier. i may be the strongest, but that doesn't mean i should let my guard down. you told me that yourself.”
you hold back the urge to roll your eyes, instead staring at him unamused. you caress his cheek gently, “close your eyes, idiot.”
your annoying boyfriend deliberately opens both as if to spite you, cheekily smiling as he stares back at you, “i can still see cursed energy even if i do, babe.”
you still aren't impressed. he chuckles at your expression.
“plus, my headache disappears faster when i see pretty girls.”
“oh, fuck off,” you angrily pinch his cheeks in response as he yelps out in pain, before opting to cover his eyes with one of your hands instead. you feel his eyelashes as he blinks in confusion at the gesture.
“does this help?”
“not really. i can still see cursed energy.”
“oh.” you move to remove your hand, “my bad—”
what you don't expect next is that he keeps your hand in place above his eyes with his own, feeling your knuckles under his palm as he moves to rest his head against your shoulder once more, his eyes still covered by your palm.
“i thought it didn't help?”
“it doesn't but i like you touching me.”
you blink, clearly weirded out by the way he worded that.
“...seriously?”
“yeah, darling. now, as much as i like your voice—i really want to sleep right now, so be quiet before i kiss you stupid right here in public.”
you immediately and effectively shut up at that, hearing an awkward cough from the man sitting across from you. you send him an apologetic look, before glaring at gojo, who's now snoozing his way to wonderland.
you have an inkling that he probably won't be wearing blindfolds anytime soon. especially with how he's grinning like a madman even in his sleep with your hand over his eyes.
you sigh—noting to bring a blindfold each time you go out with the man from now on, not wanting a sore arm everytime you take the train home. you can already picture him pouting in response.
“the child that you are, gojo satoru,” you murmur whilst leaning against his head, pressing a chaste kiss to his temple.
“...you're lucky i love you.”
extra:
donning his sunglasses as he exits the train, he cheerily says, “that was the best nap of my life!”
his headache is gone, which is a relief—but unfortunately, yours is still standing right in front of you.
you clutch your numb arm—already feeling the soreness that'll come after shortly.
“i take it back. i hate you.”
“aw, love you too, bae.”
Zzzz...
