“Let me bandage you up”
A/N: Gender neutral reader, no cw I think?
((It is a form of love language and a very good one😩))
After Nanami chose to leave the jujutsu world, you had been the only reminder of his past life, the two of you sharing a flat since your twenties.
You never talked much about your work with him, only doing so if he ever asked.
Yet there you were, listening to his rambles about how, even if the jujutsu world was shit, his actual work was even worse, finishing with an almost desperate “I want to go back”.
After talking with Gojo about it, Nanami was assigned on a mission.
“Will he be alright?” You asked Gojo, knowing he probably had dumped one of his own missions on Nanami “He might be a little rusty, you think he can handle this?”
“Ah, don’t worry! I gave him an easy one, to get him back on track!” Gojo cheerily said “You can go check on him, if it’ll make you feel better,” he added and gave you the address.
After thanking him, you walked there, realizing it wasn’t that far from your location, trying not to run, reminding yourself how good of a fighter he was.
When you arrived, it was all over already, a nearly out of breath Nanami stepping out of the building, his usually perfect hair a mess and his clothes, dirty.
“Kento!” you called him, the man smiling tiredly at you, “Are you alright?”
“Did Gojo send you?”
You shook your head.
“No, I wanted to check on you,” you said, checking him for any injuries.
“I’m fine,” he said, trying to stop you, but as he lifted his arm to do so, he hissed in pain “It’s nothing, really,” he reassured you, “Just a scratch.”
You grabbed his wrist and led him to a nearby bench, making him sit down.
“Let me bandage you up,” you said.
He hesitated for a moment, but by the expression on your face, there was no room for arguing, and did as you said, letting you take care of him in silence.
You cleaned up his skin, gently dabbing alcohol with a cotton cloth, and carefully wrapped the wound on his shoulder—it wasn’t deep nor did it need stitches— absentmindedly humming a song that had been stuck in your head for days now.
It was strange how relaxed he felt, as he let you take care of him. Usually, it would be the other way around, with him helping you change your bandages after a particularly rough mission. It felt unusually good being on the other side.
“And how did it go?” you asked once you finished, helping him fix up his shirt.
“It went well” he simply stated “It’s good to be back”
You smiled at him.
“It’s good to have you back”
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