Chapter Text
Gojo Satoru is a conventional alpha. Everything an alpha is expected to be (though sorely stereotypical), Gojo Satoru exhibits. His height is exceptional (boastful, he's aware). His build is standard beauty (bear with his flaunting). And his bank account is ridiculously loaded (don't hope for a morsel of humility now, dear). Satoru knows he is every parent's ideal son-in-law. A paragon, if your envy can entertain such a title (because he certainly can and will own it for himself).
But there are novelties that come with a hackneyed, formulaic character like him. And it's one far from conventional. Gojo Satoru was, for a young man at the cusp of his frenzied early 20's, not one for family.
"They look exactly like Satoru!"
– But the Gojo Satoru now more than humours the idea of family. Not quite a shock when he already has one of his own.
"It's such a tragedy though,"
Ah, that wiry, grouchy voice rising afresh from the underworld. Satan sure knows when to time his commentaries. Satoru sends his apologies for having to open his narration with the mention of such a distasteful intruder.
"Their only flaw happens to be the worst flaw you could possibly want for your nephews."
Satoru deems it a slight offence that Yuuji regards the statement as chuckle-worthy.
"Don't be like that, nii-san. You're badmouthing the kids' father in front of them."
"I'm preparing them, Yuuji. Imagine if you have to grow up as that disgusting human's offspring, you'd appreciate a heads-up too."
This may be the right moment to cut his introduction short and get on with pestering Sukuna. If Satoru tries hard enough, he might annoy the other into non-existence so he wouldn't have to worry about a demon being part of his children's family tree. It'd be a travesty for them to keep drawing an unwanted uncle in their homework.
"I'm sure they'll appreciate it more if I warn them about you, nii-san." Satoru comes in sneakily to startle the slouching thing shrouding half of the crib. He dangles an arm around Sukuna just for a better goading of his fuelled grumbles (censored vocabularies, for the well-being of his children).
It works extremely well that Sukuna is visibly contemplating his exit. But then Satoru gets himself distracted by the gurgled greetings of his angels and fails to deliver the rest of his ill-intentioned ribbing.
"They must have smelled daddy's scent," Yuuji notes fondly. His warm eyes entice Satoru back to playfully responding to the newborns' babbling.
Two wide-eyed pups, curious with their little fingers and wiggling toes. They may resemble most of his features but their eyes shine more beautifully in amber.
God, they make such pretty creations. His genes combined with Yuuji's is heaven at its most sublime and most biased. Satoru pities whoever has to sit next to their babies in the class. If they've got a snotty nose and mismatched socks, they wouldn't be able to earn themselves (limited) attention. No matter, he knows his kids will get the most of it anyway.
"Get your contagious nonsense off of me, assface."
A kind tug saves Satoru from the force of Sukuna's shoving. Yuuji coos at the twins' whimpering before turning to glare at them.
"When will you guys ever stop this hate-pretence thing?" The omega pinches Satoru's rib, doing the same thing to Sukuna. "Grow up you two. You have to set a good example."
"Looks like someone became a responsible adult overnight." Sukuna flatly remarks. "Just a month ago you had to call me to set up your oven for you. What changed?"
Now, that does not sit well with Satoru. "You called him for help and not me? Yuuji, are you plotting an early divorce?"
"Not yet married." Yuuji corrects tiredly. "And you were passed out from studying those law books all night, I didn't wanna bother you."
"Could've at least called for Chousou instead," Satoru grumbles acidulously. "I bet you it took him an hour to figure out how the whole thing worked."
"30 seconds actually. Turned out Yuuji just couldn't find the right buttons."
He gapes at his omega. His wonderful, stupidly adorable, and sometimes clumsy omega. "I probably could have taught you better. 10 seconds tops."
"You really have to make everything a competition, don't you?" Yuuji huffs at him, exasperated. There's not a hint of acrimony behind it though. Satoru is confident Yuuji finds him endearing.
"How can I be a worthy alpha if I don't prove myself to you everyday?"
Sukuna snorts, gruff when he talks. "Your deluded pride can make up for that."
Satoru takes that as a compliment. "You should work on yours. It's probably deflated from all the shame your existence bears."
"Fuck you," Sukuna doesn't take it as one.
"Language." The hiss in Yuuji's voice automatically alerts them. It's not daily that they hear such a sting to his words.
"This is my cue to leave before I get punched." Sukuna, ever the wiser of the two (and it pains Satoru to admit but his instincts have been dulled when it comes to Yuuji, so sue him), raises his palms high to show surrender.
"Don't forget to put money in the swear jar!"
"Yeah, yeah, mom." A grumbled reply echoes from the hall, followed by the reverberations of cheers coming from the lounge room.
Tranquillity, at last. Satoru makes the most of it and swiftly nears Yuuji's back. He envelops his smaller frame in a relaxed hug, resting his chin on the younger's head and kissing lightly. Yuuji, perhaps used to his gestures of affection, leans in with little reluctance.
"Every time you make him follow your rules, I love you more and more."
The confession gains him another pinch. It's for a different reason than what Satoru assumes.
"So the whole basis of your love for me is because of Sukuna? Are you sure you're in love with the right brother?"
Satoru can't help but wince in strong protest. He chides Yuuji's taunting with a gentle nip on his ear, the omega giggling at his tickle. "If I have to love any other brother beside you, I'd rather it'd be Chousou."
"You'd have to fight Naoya first before you can court him."
"I've got enough banknotes to ward him off." Satoru tightens his hold. He sways the both of them, their gazes absently focused on their snoring babies. "I bet you he'd cave for a measly 50,000."
Yuuji's lack of admonishment seems to agree with Satoru. "I fear your dislike for my brother will rub off on the kids."
And isn't that a dream come true?
"Not funny. Don't try anything dumb." The omega elbows his stomach as if having learned his thought. Or, may he already has and chooses to keep quiet about his newfound ability.
"I'll let the kids decide which uncle they favour more. But I'll make no promises to not intervene when they make poor decisions." Satoru answers vaguely. It earns him another nudge. "We have to be wary of our twins' role models, honey. I'm sure you'd rank Sukuna last if you were more honest with yourself."
"If I were honest, I'd rank you last too."
"Hey, that's not–"
The clatter from below resounds. Nobara's demanding (and much exasperated) call saves Yuuji from Satoru's strings of bleats. His tantrum is shut down before he can even defend himself from the offence. And Yuuji, knowing him too well, takes advantage of the interruption to kiss him on the cheek. Impishly, he instructs Satoru to the room's exit.
"I'm not gonna forget about that." Satoru keeps a stubborn frown. He waits, leaning on the threshold. The door's hinges creak under his slouching weight.
"It's the truth." Yuuji shrugs. Then, softly and lovingly, he sings a farewell to the infants. They hold his hands even when deep in their sleep, reaching out for Yuuji's caresses. Like this, the place teeming with so much calm and tenderness, Satoru feels like basking in the homey fragrance of his –no, their home.
"Happy?" He whispers the question as Yuuji treads toward him.
Yuuji links their hands. He spares the crib one last glance then rivets his eyes on Satoru, beaming. "Always."
The item is fleecy, spongy and blindingly white with black-spotted ears and beady eyes.
"A panda." Satoru guesses immediately. He also offers a sardonic thanks that turns into a quick insult. "Real creative. 100 points for originality."
Suguru counters his mocking with the hazy wag of his finger. "Screw you. I spent 1,100 yen on that."
Satoru lays down the gift next to the line of other presents just like it. All plushies and toys. All bought from the same store.
"Typical." Kugisaki does not hold back on disparaging their efforts. Considering the lack of creativity, Satoru could very well discount it as one. "I don't understand why you put too much expectations on these guys, they're never going to amount to anything innovative."
"I suppose I was wrong to hope." Satoru feigns a sob. Suguru sticks his tongue out in frank nonchalance.
"Don't mind them, Getou-san." Yuuji titters. "The gift is lovely."
"I gave you the same thing. Why are you only complimenting his gift?" Okkotsu whines from his spot on the carpeted floor. His flailing arms are bumping against the glass table. Their scattered drinks of soda and canned beer jingle.
The young alpha is partly drunk, Satoru observes. Too bad his mate isn't with him to keep watch. Already, Satoru anticipates the early use of their guest bedroom.
"Because unlike you, Getou-san's face is Yuuji's type." Maki, the first Alpha to ever force Satoru on a first name basis purely because of pure hatred for her family members (it's debatable if that includes her sister), jests a little too openly for his liking.
"Please refrain from spouting false claims. My Yuuji is definitely not one for unattractive faces."
"You're just jealous people find me more handsome than you."
This time, it's Satoru who wields the wrath of his middle finger. "Suguru is now banished from this house forever."
"Funny, I thought Sukuna would be the first to receive his exile notice. So what did I miss?" Chousou appears from behind the couch with a larger case of beer. His late arrival doesn't faze the group, the man having phoned Yuuji early on about failing to convince Naoya to tag along. He hates people, is Yuuji's brief explanation, mostly people like my friends and yours. Really, it's a mystery how well Naoya has committed himself to an alpha like Chousou.
"Nothing much." Megumi takes it upon himself to welcome the older. "The gift-opening has been uneventful so far."
He pries off the beverage from Chousou's hand and hides them under the grey ottoman, mindful of his friends' immoderate drinking and his mate's eerie silence. Satoru admits the beta is admirably percipient with his subtle tricks. Yuuji quietly sending him a gestured gratitude affirms his praise for the younger.
"Only because we're yet to open my presents for you guys." Kugisaki chirpily reminds.
"You mean our presents." Maki corrects. "You almost drained my weekly savings dry because of your lavish spending."
"What do you know," Satoru mutters to Yuuji, "the alphas in your circle certainly have a specific type."
Kugisaki, unfortunately, has the hearing of a bat too acquainted with the frequencies of gossip. No matter how low they're uttered –which, to Satoru, is uncomfortably supernatural.
"If you want to stay alive to witness your twins' college graduation, you better keep those remarks to yourself."
She threatens him with the throw of a pillow for good measure. Suguru cackles at the sound thump it makes on Satoru's face, clearly on better terms with the omega than he is. If she weren't so cautious of Ieiri snatching away her best-godmother-title, they'd seriously make a menacing pair. But it's a wonderful thing the two women are nowhere close to making amends (and a wonderful miracle that Ieiri is unable to attend to stir up unwanted trouble).
"Forgive me, milady." He yields for his survival's sake. Yuuji shifts in his languid half-embrace, chortling drowsily. "Please do continue. I'm sure whatever you have in store for us this humble celebration is beyond what we would have desired."
"Such politeness." Chousou compliments in genuine appreciation.
"He's just being a candy-ass." Sukuna and Suguru deride as always. Again, another frightful combination Satoru prays may never have successful developments.
The wrinkle of paper startles them from their distraction. Kugisaki gesticulates angrily. "You're ruining my moment!"
"I think you're forgetting this is supposed to be Yuuji's moment."
"No, no, you're both wrong. This is technically the house's moment." Okkotsu miraculously bounces out of his stupor to deliver his dissent. From the brief stories Satoru has heard, the young man routinely does it to rattle Kugisaki's ego. Part of their lighthearted bickering, he's been told.
"Dear god, you're getting dumber again." Maki's expression sours. "How many drinks have you had?"
"About five." Megumi answers for the dazed alpha. "I've been trying to stop him but he's sneaky."
"Well, he's gonna be Satoru's responsibility until Inumaki's free to pick him up," Chousou says, taking a swig of his liquor as though he's not the next to stagger into Satoru's list of priorities for the evening. It's barely his third drink and he's drunker than Sukuna and Okkotsu's red-faced, fifth-drink misfortune. What's worst, Satoru doubts Naoya would be willing to fetch the older.
"You'll take the other brother home right?" Satoru looks at Megumi with desperate hope.
Megumi slumps, just as inconvenienced. "I don't have much of a choice. I married a total lightweight."
"Perfect. That just leaves me and Yuuji two drunkheads to look after." Impolite behaviour, if Satoru were blunt. The audacity of these people to expect special treatment when their babies deserve it a million times more.
"Uh, genius. I think your hubby's too deep in his sleep to help you with that." Suguru rocks the wooden chair he sits on, gulping his tenth beer of the night.
True to Suguru's words, Satoru finds his omega rendered a pliant mush. It's only when he lightly jerks his shoulder that he feels the heavy press of Yuuji's head. In the blur of the moment, as Kugisaki's carping loudens and Okkotsu's political ramblings blend into the muted snickers of the room, Satoru exploits about a minute adoring the beauty of his omega's sleeping face. His plump, rosy cheeks, the slight slant of his nose and even the cute fluttering of his lashes – tired from being the best parent any child could ask for. No one, not even the renaissance paintings his art professor worships, can compare to the simple marvel he sees now.
"Hey dumbass," Suguru's grating voice offends his romantic musings. "Stop your creepy staring and answer your damn phone before this screeching witch does it for you."
Satoru follows the jab of his thumb and is met with the sight of Kugisaki's flaring nostrils.
"Who the fuck are you calling witch, you bastard?!"
With heavy sighing, the alpha gingerly readies himself to move out of the couch. Megumi pulls Yuuji to his side for the other's assurance.
Not for the first time, Satoru indulges in the sudden quiet as he escapes from the chaos of the scene. How Yuuji can sleep through all of the cacophonies is beyond him. But he figures it's got something to do with having loudmouths for brothers.
The patio is unexpectedly cold when he picks up the call at the third chime. The vibrations soften, followed by a hoarse voice Satoru has learned to associate with impending doom.
"Satoru?"
"Yaga?" His grip on the phone tightens. "What's up? You're usually not one for calls. Did ya miss my voice that much?"
"You're still lacking manners, I see." A faint static. Satoru pictures a fancy background and civil conversations in between. Must be having dinner with an unlucky date, he surmises. "But I've got no time to scold you for your juvenile habits. I have some news that I think might delight you."
Judging by the sarcasm in the older's tone, Satoru fears for the worst. "Please tell me you're staying abroad for a year longer."
"Quite the opposite. I've booked a flight for the weekend. I'll be expecting your warm welcomes."
Son of a bitch. "Is this one of your temporary visits or should I prepare myself for an armageddon?"
The hush drawls before Satoru is given a terse reply.
"Tough luck, Satoru. You might want to start buying yourself a survival kit."
Fuck, Yaga's gonna kill him.