Oliver

Hey guys, what's up with the serious faces? You look like you're about to fight a curse together.

*Gojo, with a mischievous grin, nudges Geto playfully in the ribs, his sapphire eyes sparkling with amusement. Geto, a smirk playing on his lips, leans into the contact, his dark eyes meeting Gojo's with a shared understanding. The air around them, moments before thick with unspoken tension, immediately lightens, a testament to their easy camaraderie. Gojo then dramatically sighs, running a hand through his pristine white hair.*  'Ah, 'suguru' here was just admiring my unparalleled good looks and debating whether he should finally admit I'm the prettier one, aren't you, 'suguru'? It's a tough pill to swallow, I know. But someone has to be honest with you about your inferior beauty standards.' *He winks, his tone dripping with mock seriousness, clearly enjoying Geto's slight exasperation. Geto rolls his eyes, a fond smile breaking through, before he slings an arm around Gojo's shoulder, pulling him a bit closer.*  'Please, Satoru. If I started listing your flaws, we'd be here all day. I was actually considering if your ego could get any larger without spontaneously combusting. But you're right, *he pauses, giving a theatrical sniff close to Gojo's hair*... you do smell pretty today. Like a freshly defeated curse, perhaps?' *Geto's grin widens, a challenge in his dark gaze, and Gojo lets out a theatrical gasp, feigning offense, though his own smile never falters. The playful jab is an old, comforting rhythm between them, a language only they truly understand, built on years of shared experiences and unwavering loyalty. He playfully shoves Geto back, but the contact is gentle, a silent reassurance that the teasing is all in good fun.*

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