Chapter 1: i feel the chemicals kickin' in
Chapter Text
“Fuck, Fushiguro, your mouth is incredible,” Yuuji moans with a thrust of his hips, his dick currently deep in the throat of a guy.
[Freeze frame. Record scratch.]
Let’s get one thing straight first.
Itadori Yuuji was a straight man. He’s so straight. Straightest straight to ever straight.
There’s nothing he enjoys more than rolling around his frat house bed with a girl who was tall, had a big ass and long, long hair for him to pull on as he fucks them from behind. Not once, in the entirety of his twenty years on this earth, has he ever found himself attracted to men. Ever.
He knows, because he’s been up close and personal with them during his time on the school wrestling team. Yuuji’s been a frequent attendee of Brazilian Jiu Jitsu classes where guy crotch meets guy crotch 99% of the class. He’s been in locker rooms with other men all through middle school, high school, now college and not once has a man interested him. Dicks of all shapes and sizes, you name it, he’s seen it, and not once has he ever looked at one and thought ‘that’s hot’.
Seeing those flaccid, floppy dicks has always kinda grossed him out. Always makes a point to avert his eyes, really. The only dick that doesn’t gross him out is his own but hey, he’s got a pretty fuckin’ nice dick.
Yuuji also lives in a frat house and frat bros really don’t like wearing shirts. He’s seen naked men. Too many, if he were being honest. Point is — if he was gay and liked dudes, he’d know it by now.
Plus, there’s also the fact that he loves eating pussy! He loves everything about pussy!
And that’s just further proof that he isn’t gay.
But — But , he’d be a total fucking liar if he didn’t admit to himself that Fushiguro Megumi gave the best fucking blowjobs in all of history. He’s sure if Fushiguro existed during the Renaissance, there’d be madrigals, fantasias written about his cocksucking skills. It’s not like Yuuji doesn’t have a wide pool of data to compare him to either. Yuuji gets around okay — he’s experienced.
It comes with the territory when you’re the 6 foot something star quarterback of an elite college with a charming mop of pink hair and a chestnut undercut, big biceps and chest that sit tight beneath his compression shirts (always buy a size smaller if you wanna look bigger) and washboard abs you can see even when he’s not tensing. He’s a good looking guy; a mighty fine specimen.
That’s not counting his personality either; people know him. Everyone knows Itadori Yuuji. He’s loud in a literal sense and in personality, though not in an obnoxious way. In the way where he’s the life of the party. He has a presence. People are drawn to him naturally, like a moth to a flame. Around campus, guys wanna be him and girls wanna be with him. And with him, the girls have been.
Which means he’s had his dick sucked many a time. Which is also why he can say that Fushiguro Megumi truly does have a magical mouth, brought on this earth to suck his dick like it’s a capri sun. Because right now, said man is on his knees, giving him the time of his fucking life.
Drool gathers at the corners of Fushiguro’s mouth as his head slides along the length of Yuuji’s cock until he’s nosing at the hairs above Yuuji’s cock. When the tip hits the back of Fushiguro’s throat, it constricts deliciously, perfectly . It’s obscene — seeing the way Fushiguro’s plush lips redden, wrapped around the thick girth of Yuuji’s fat cock. He’s wearing a black choker with a little charm that makes a dinging sound every time Fushiguro takes Yuuji’s entire cock into his mouth in one smooth motion. It’s like a little warning bell for Yuuji just before each time Fushiguro choke slams himself onto Yuuji’s dick and takes a year off his life.
“ Nggghhh god, where’ve you been all my life?” Yuuji gasps, a handful of Fushiguro’s hair wound tight in his grip. “Your mouth is so incredible.”
Fushiguro moans, lewdly, around Yuuji’s cock at the praise and tongues at Yuuji’s slit. He shoves a hand down his pants and starts rubbing himself off. It’s kinda hot , Yuuji thinks. That Fushiguro would be so into sucking dick, he’s gotta get himself off. But that thought leaves as quickly as it enters his brain, right as he comes, hard, down Fushiguro’s throat. Tensed stomach, hips stuttering wildly into Fushiguro’s mouth, hand gripped tight to hold Fushiguro’s head in place as he empties his balls down the back of Fushiguro’s throat.
Yuuji notices Fushiguro within the first week of school, a year and a half before Fushiguro sucked his dick. They shared the same bullshit introductory classes, how to write an essay, how to reference sources properly etc. It was hard not to notice Fushiguro with hair as spikey as his own but black as ink. Even though he sat at the very back of the class, curled in on himself, Yuuji’s eyes were drawn to him immediately when he’d turned around mid-way through class to crack his back.
Yuuji had flashed him his usual charming boyish grin when they made eye contact and Fushiguro scowled. Yuuji just shrugged it off; the guy evidently hated other people and Yuuji couldn’t relate. He just loved making friends!
Once those classes were over, he’d see Fushiguro here and there on campus in the food courts or the library. Never at any parties though. Not that Yuuji gave him much thought. He was just a little intriguing with his mysteriously aloof personality and what seemed like a permanent scowl etched to his face. But aside from these rare encounters, for all intents and purposes, Fushiguro was just another pretty face on campus. Nothing extremely special.
Then Yuuji rocked up to football practice early one day and found out that the college cheerleading team practiced on the same field before the football team. They’re in the middle of practicing a routine when he spots a spike of ink black hair rotating in the air and his eyes follow the spot. That’s when he finds out that Fushiguro’s on the cheerleading team as a cheerleader , wearing a cheerleading uniform, skirt and all, and his brain promptly short circuits.
He made sure to arrive early to practice after that because wow all those flips and tumbles and shit that Fushiguro could do were so cool, very cool. Cheerleaders were peak athleticism and as a fellow athlete, Yuujii admired that.
There was also no denying that Fushiguro was a very… pretty dude. Anyone with eyes would agree.
Plus, Yuuji’s comfortable enough with his sexuality that he can admit a guy’s good looking. With his rainforest green eyes, heart-shaped face and pale skin that would flush a nice pink when it was cold. When he wasn’t at practice, Fushiguro would wear tight, tight sweaters that showed off his tiny, slim waist and the fact that he was all lean muscle with a pert ass.
(Yuuji knows this because he’d been on the quad throwing a frisbee around with his best friend Todo, when Fushiguro walked past him, tripped over a rock and dropped some books. He’d bent over to pick them up while wearing jeans that fit like a glove and Yuui had stared one beat too long, entirely missing the frisbee coming his way. The frisbee nicked his eyebrow.
Anyway, it wasn’t gay that he was staring no matter how much Todo insisted because Fushiguro could’ve definitely been mistaken for a chick from that angle and Yuujii’s always been an ass man.)
(Yuuji had also watched, quite frankly, an alarming amount of cheer practices ever since he realised Fushiguro’s on the team. The other cheerleaders try to preen and show off and they’re all super hot. Yuuji could definitely have a different one in his bed each night. He’s the star quarterback after all. But his eyes are always, always drawn to Fushiguro, with his slender, lean muscled arms and the tight training skirt he wears that emphasises the curvature of his ass. It makes him a little confused but also a little intrigued, because Yuuji’s definitely straight.)
So Yuuji reasons that he finds Fushiguro intriguing because he’s a different kind of dude than Yuuji is used to. He doesn’t stink of axe body spray or exude a raging amount of testosterone that makes Yuuji want to pump their chests together, let out a war cry and do a keg stand after like he usually does with Todo. In fact, the brief moments they’ve brushed past each other, Fushiguro’s smelled really nice. Like jasmine or something.
But also, despite his feminine appearance and participation in a female-dominated sport, Fushiguro was very clearly, not a girl. It was obvious from the slightly broader lines of his back, the extra definition his muscles had and the way he carried himself when he was walking; it was anything but feminine. If anything, Fushiguro was a bit intimidating with the way his shoulders would hunch inwards and his arms held to the side like he was holding watermelons with his lats. He also exuded a ‘don’t-fuck-with-me’ aura. It was just so interesting how Fushiguro seemed to subvert gender norms, he thinks. Real neato burrito, mhmm (and proceeds to pat himself on the back for absorbing Nobara’s frequent rants of social constructs and heteronormativity).
Fushiguro was just so different and humans are naturally curious beings, right?
Anyway.
So it happens like this:
It’s Saturday at midnight and they’re both the only ones at the campus gym. Yuuji could’ve been at the party his frat is hosting but his upcoming games have pro scouts in attendance. He’s gotta get his form in top condition because there are pro-scouts and that means no alcohol, no partying, no fun.
Yuuji’s in the free weights section doing bicep curls and Fushiguro’s by the powerlifting area doing squats. It might be his imagination but he swears he’s being watched, and since Fushiguro’s the only other person at the gym, there’s really only one person who could be staring.
There’s mirrors lining all along the walls of the gym. At first Yuuji focuses on his form, watching his reflection in the mirror as his bicep muscles contract. But as he moves through his workout, he gets a little bored and his gaze drifts to the corner where Fushiguro is.
He watches as Fushiguro bends his knees, shoulder width apart, barbell sitting atop his delts and lowers himself to the ground slowly. He’s wearing loose shorts that are tiny that expose lithe legs that look like they go on for miles which makes sense; he’s rather tall (but not as tall as Yuuji). His top is a muscle tee with armholes that dip low and his nipples come into view as he moves. They’re cute; small, round blush pink things. When Fushiguro finishes his set and reracks the bar, Yuuji turns away quickly and moves to do some dumbbell fly presses.
It becomes a bit like a game of ping pong. Fushiguro moves onto deadlifts, still facing away from him and when Fushiguro starts on a new set, Yuuji watches while taking many sips of water. Then Fushiguro does his exercises and feels eyes on him. Rinse and repeat.
Not that Yuuji puts too much stock in it; he’s used to being stared at wherever he goes by men and women alike. His teammates make fun of him for it (he knows they’re just jealous). He just wonders why Fushiguro’s staring at him. Maybe he’s gay? Not that it matters one way or another. Yuuji’s a very accepting straight man! And he likes making new friends! Especially with people he doesn’t usually surround himself with. People who are different —- who make him curious. And Fushiguro’s personality certainly makes Yuuji curious — he’s just so…mysterious, elusive…like a stray black cat he happened to stumble upon in an alleyway.
They make brief eye contact every now and then, mostly when Yuuji doesn’t look away quick enough. He just throws on his charming Itadori Yuuji smile and gives a cute two fingered salute. Fushiguro stares blankly and Yuuji looks away towards the ground, frowning. Tough crowd.
All good though, Yuuji loves a challenge.
When Fushiguro moves onto the bench press, situating himself a little closer to Yuuji, he stacks an impressive amount of weight onto the bar. Yuuji sees an opportunity to strike up a conversation with the black alley cat. Wiping the sweat off his face with his towel, he waltzes over to where Fushiguro is. Lying supine on the bench, Fushiguro’s back is arched rather prettily, feet planted on the ground and in the middle of adjusting the position of his hands on the bar when Yuuji approaches.
“Hey there, need a spotter?” Yuuji says, hands on his hips, chest puffed out, his lips stretched in a smile showcasing his pearly white teeth.
Fushiguro’s movements freeze and his face is screwed up in an adorable scowl. He huffs a breath that has a piece of his fringe flit up and down. Fushiguro looks Yuuji up and down and a funny feeling runs through his chest that makes his brain feel like there’s a hamster running around on a wheel.
“Sure,” Fushiguro mumbles, though there’s reluctance in his tone.
“Name’s Itadori Yuuji,” he introduces with a thumb pointing to his chest.
“Fushiguro Megumi and I know who you are. ”
“Pretty name,” Yuuji grins, all teeth again. Then, “You heard of me then?”
“Hard not to around here,” Fushiguro replies, deadpan.
“Oh yeah? What’ve you heard?” Yuuji asks, with an eyebrow raised and yeah, he might be egging Fushiguro on a little.
Fushiguro looks up at him from the bench and squints a little before apparently reaching some sort of conclusion. Yuuji’s expecting an answer like ‘Star Athlete’ or ‘Most Popular Guy on Campus.’ So Yuujialmost falls over himself and eats shit on the gym floor when Megumi says with the most bland expression, “You’ve got a big dick.”
A splutter leaves his lips before shaking himself out of his shock at Fushiguro’s blunt honesty. “Not just a rumour, y’know.”
The words come out before he can catch himself and Yuuji has no idea why he’s entertaining this discussion with another dude. He’s just having a dick measuring contest with a fellow bro. Yeah, that’s all. His frat bros do it all the time. Jokes about each other’s dicks are rampant amongst fraternities. It’s totally straight. He’s totally straight.
“I’ve heard that before,” Fushiguro says, rolling his eyes.
Yuuji gives a feigned scoff of outrage. Splays a hand across his chest dramatically as if he’s truly offended. “You think I’d lie?”
“I don’t even know you. Forgive me for not trusting you.”
“I’ll have you know, I’m an honest guy,” he says with an earnest smile
Fushiguro scoffs, his face entirely skeptical and scrutinizing and unmistakably travels to the bulge at the front of Yuuji’s pants. He licks his lips. His eye twitches something mischievous. “Bet you’re not that big. You guys are all the same, saying the same old shit to girls.”
“You not one of those guys?”
When Yuuji asks that, Fushiguro’s eyes dart over and narrows, scathing.
“Ha ha, good joke.”
“Huh? I’m not joking. What would I be joking about?”
“Oh,” Fushiguro says. A pretty blush blooms over the apple of Fushiguros cheeks and creeps down his delicate neck. “I thought you were making a joke because I’m gay.”
Oh.
Oh .
Yuuji rubs the back of his neck with one hand awkwardly and lets out a deep chuckle. “Nah man, I’m totally cool with gay people. I’d never make fun of you for that.”
And jeez, that mustn’t be a standard response because Fushiguro’s shoulders kinda slump with relief and Yuuji watches as his shoulders detach from the bottom of his ears. He kinda feels a little bad now.
Clearing his throat, Fushiguro readjusts himself and returns to his perfect bench press form. Lies on his back and grips the bar above his head with firm fingers and small hands.
Okay. Hint taken. So Yuuji steps behind Fushiguro’s head.
His hands hover just below the barbell with his palms facing upwards, bending down as needed while Fushiguro’s presses the weighted bar up and down towards his chest. He lets his mind wander.
Yuuji has this thing. He has this thing where more often than not, his mouth runs faster than his brain and he says shit without thinking. It often gets him into trouble. Nothing major but it happens enough that his friends make fun of him for always speaking before thinking and accusations that he’s always running his mouth. It’s like, the only flaw he has.
“So what’s it like to get your dick sucked by a dude?”
The clang of Fushiguro reracking the barbell rings through the empty gym and he sits up.
“What the fuck kinda question is that?” Fushiguro says, his eyebrows drawn together in a frown. He already looks like he’s done with Yuuji’s shit or about to throw hands, Yuuji can’t be sure.
“Chill man, I don’t mean anything bad by it. I’m just curious if it’s different to having your dick sucked by a girl.”
“What’s it like to have your dick sucked by a girl then?” Fushiguro throws back at him with a sneer.
“Well, I wouldn’t be able to compare since I’ve never had my dick sucked by a gu — oh ,” he says, realising what a stupid fucking question it is. So silly of him. “So you’ve never gotten a blowjob from a girl?”
“No,” Fushiguro replies, curt. “I’ve always known I was gay. Besides — ” Fushiguro pauses and looks at Yuuji with an expression that makes him a little nervous. “It’s usually me doing the sucking.”
Yuuji is in the middle of taking a mouthful of water when Fushiguro says that. He promptly chokes on his water and splutters because oh no , he’s imagining Fushiguro on his knees, mouthful of cock with his perfect ass pushed out as he’s bent over and —
Fuck. He’d totally just tuned out and didn’t hear what Fushiguro said.
When he looks back down at Fushiguro, his arms are crossed, but he’s smirking like he knows what Yuuji’sbeen thinking. An unfamiliar heat blooms on his face and what the fuck, why’s he getting flustered right now?
Clearing his throat, he says, “Sorry, zoned out for a bit. Did you say something?”
“I said, let me know if you ever wanna find out what it’s like to get sucked off by a guy.”
Yuuji’s brain skids like Wiley Coyote coming to a sudden stop.
“Your mouth’s pretty small, I don’t think you could take my dick,” Yuuji says, with as much nonchalance and confidence he could muster, as if Fushiguro and his pretty, flushed face hadn’t reduced Yuuji’s brain to empty static moments ago with a single sentence.
Fushiguro smirks.
It’s a devious kinda smirk. Like Fushiguro enjoys that Yuujii rose to his bait because that’s exactly what he’d intended for Yuujii to say. “Like I said, guys always say that. Never come across one I haven’t been able to take though.”
Yuuji swallows a whimper and tries not to lose his fucking mind. Fushiguro’s mouth is still quirked up to the side and he looks like a cat who got the cream.
“I’m not gay,” Yuuji states, a little lost.
“Didn’t say you were. Could just be something between two dudes,” Fushiguro says, shrugging his shoulders like it doesn’t matter one way or another to him.
“Like a brojob?” Yuuji asks, tilting his head slightly to the side.
Fushiguro blinks at Yuuji, his arms still crossed. There’s a small shake of his head. “Sure Itadori, a brojob, because that’s a thing.”
“Really?”
“Sure,” Fushiguro deadpans.
“I feel like I’m being tricked here.”
“Oh my god. Do it, don’t do it, it makes no difference to me,” Fushiguro huffs, rolling those gemstone green eyes.
“So you’re offering?” Yuuji asks, curious, as a faceless, possibly gay goblin in his brain chants pleasepleasepleaseplease .
“That’s what I said, idiot.”
Fushiguro’s kind of a bitch but for some reason, Yuuji likes it? And man, Yuuji is getting so confused tonight because really, his dick is twitching traitorously at the thought of Fushiguro’s plump, petal-pink lips around his cock. He thinks it could just be the prospect of getting a blowjob. And it’d be gay if he didn’t like his dick getting sucked, probably. Maybe.
Also, Fushiguro’s so pretty and delicate that he…could be a girl. If not for the fact that he’s not a girl. But whatever, yolo or whatever the fuck it is kids say these days.
“Alright, let’s do it.”
It’s not the last time he gets his dick sucked by Fushiguro.
After that night at the gym, Yuuji finds himself gravitating towards Fushiguro subconsciously. It’s like he develops an in-built radar that guides him to wherever Fushiguro is located. At the cafeteria, the gym, the library. Or maybe it’s more of blowjob radar because that’s inevitably what it leads to.
Their interactions always start innocuous, like “ Weather’s a bit shit today, right? ” and then it’s “ Oh fuck, shit, how’d my cock get in your mouth? ” Doesn’t really matter where they are, the outcome’s the same. Fushiguro on his knees with a mouthful of cock, sucking on it like his life depends on it. Yuuji always ends up coming down Fushiguro’s tight, wet throat because Fushiguro’s taken his cock from tip to root. Or he’d slap Yuuji’s heavy cock against his pink tongue while looking up at him with glossy, dazed eyes and Yuuji would paint that pretty face with ropes of his cum.
(There’s something telling about how Yuuji’s always thinking about how pretty Fushiguro is, but he bats it away like an annoying fruit fly. Whatever.)
He starts to enjoy Fushiguro’s company as more than just a slutty cocksleeve to get himself off. Fushiguro’s actually really nice to be around. Beyond his dicksucking skills, he has a calming presence and they end up hanging out quite a bit with Fushiguro taking him through his o-chem homework or Fushiguro next to him, quietly reading a book while he plays games.
It’s fun and real convenient. For example, when he’s waiting for a Call of Duty lobby to fill, Fushiguro’s on his knees on the soft fabric of Yuujii’s rug in his room at the frat house, soft hands pressed against Yuuji’s thighs and taking his cock deep in his throat like a fucking champ. Fushiguro refrains from touching his balls though, because that would be pretty gay.
They even start playing video games together. Turns out Fushiguro’s a fucking Super Smash Bros messiah because his guardian or not-dad trained him up when he was younger and winning makes Fushiguro horny. So after Fushiguro’s done annihilating him at Smash Bros, he annihilates Yuuji again with his pretty mouth, tight lips and blessed-by-the-heavens throat. Absolute throat goat.
The both of them have a pretty good agreement going on, Yuuji thinks.
It’s a random Sunday afternoon. All his friends are still sleeping off their hangovers from last night so he’d invited Fushiguro over to keep him company. Fushiguro’s about to deliver a blow to Yuuji’s character that’ll knock him off the Smash Bros stage when Yuuji has a sudden thought.
“Hey, would you uhh ever let me do anal?”
Fushiguro fucks up the combo and turns to look at Yuuji with his mouth open, wide-eyed and incredulous like Yuuji’s just grown a second head. “What?”
Running his hand through his hair, Yuujii repeats, “Would you ever do anal…with me?”
“And I repeat, what?”
Yuuji scratches the back of his head, his elbow bent awkwardly. But then he clears his throat, and casually, patiently, Yuuji says, “You heard me. None of the girls I’ve slept with ever let me do anal. I’m curious what it’s like and I’m assuming you take it up the ass right?”
“Why would you assume I’m the one who gets fucked?” Fushiguro scowls, his arms crossed with the Switch controller hanging loosely from thin elegant fingers.
Yuuji challenges Fushiguro’s question with a raise of his right eyebrow because they both know why. Fushiguro can’t be completely ignorant to his disposition, can he?
They hold each other’s gazes for a few moments before Fushiguro breaks and gives Yuuji an absolutely scathing glare that does absolutely nothing except highlight how cute his little button nose is. Then, he sighs and slumps his shoulders down. “Whatever. Shut up.”
“So?”
“You want to fuck my ass,” Fushiguro states crudely, looking at Yuuji like he’s wholly unimpressed.
“Yeah, I mean it’s a win win right? You get fucked and I get to fuck,” he says while giving Fushiguro two thumbs up and his face looking like the :D emoticon.
Fushiguro chews on his lip as he thinks, his expression giving absolutely nothing away while Yuuji sits nervously beside him. “I uhh, I dunno. It’s getting late and I gotta go home to take my dogs for a walk and feed them and stuff…”
“Wait, you’ve got dogs?” Yuuji exclaims. Man, Fushiguro gets more awesome the more he gets to know him.
“Yeah, two of ‘em. A black and a white newfoundland,” Fushiguro says proudly.
Yuuji loves dogs, loves them so fucking much and he’s never seen a newfoundland in real life before. “Can I meet them?” he asks eagerly.
Fushiguro bites the corner of his lip in contemplation and Yuuji’s heart begins to sink before Fushiguro shrugs his shoulders and says, “Sure, why not.”
They make their way out of living room and Yuuji pretends he’s a spy, peeking around the corner with gun hands to make sure none of his frat bros catches them. Fushiguro just huffs and follows him with the most bland look on his face. Yuuji doesn’t miss the slight smile every now and then.
When they reach Fushiguro’s apartment complex (because he lives in an apartment and not one of the dorms. Yuuji finds himself wanting to know more about this elusive man because how can he afford an apartment?) Yuuji is bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. Oh man, he loves dogs so much, especially big ones!
The elevator ride up is silent and Yuuji is in awe as the number keeps climbing until they reach the top of the building . It’s a lone hallway with a singular door at the end of it. Before Megumi punches in the numbers to enter his apartment, he says, “Don’t get in their face just yet. Let me slowly introduce you guys, they can be really over protective.”
Distantly he thinks if Fushiguro was his, he’d also be protective.
There’s already scratching at the door, paws skittering on floorboards. Fushiguro very slowly opens the door and steps inside, two giant dogs jumping for Fushiguro’s attention. He holds a palm out to signal to Yuuji to stay by the door.
“Down, boys,” he commands, and they both whine but follow through, sitting politely in front of Fushiguro with their tails wagging furiously. Something about the authoritative voice Fushiguro uses flicks a switch in his brain and the next words that come out of Fushiguro’s mouth makes Yuuji’s brain skid to a fucking halt.
Fushiguro bends down, both hands outstretched to scratch behind their ears and says, “Who’s a good boy?”
And Yuuji’s brain automatically supplies, “ Me .” He flinches when he realises what he just thought and it grabs Fushiguro’s attention. What the hell was that?
Fushiguro is oblivious to the conundrum that’s bouncing around in Yuuji’s head and instead, gestures for him to come forward, but slowly. So Yuuji steps forward one step at a time, afraid to catch their attention off guard and the growls that would inevitably follow.
“Hold your hand out so they can sniff it first,” Fushiguro suggests.
Yuuji follows the instruction, looking like an idiot with a hand outstretched as he edges towards the dogs. Three steps in, he steps on a floorboard that creaks and the dogs immediately flick their attention towards Yuuji. He freezes as they both get up from their sitting position.
“Shiro…Kuro…,” Fushiguro warns.
Yuuji’s eyes are wide open, fearing for his life before he’s tumbled over by two a hundred and thirty pound dogs, licking his face like their life depends on it.
“What the fuck,” Fushiguro says.
Yuuji can’t help but giggle and laugh, delighted that the dogs already like him as he’s mauled on the floor. He’s carding his hands through their fur. “Wow, Fushiguro, their coats are so soft. You must take such good care of them!” he says, impressed because genuinely, caring for two giant teddy bears and balancing school and extracurricular activities must be so much work.
Between bits of fur, he catches Fushiguro staring at him, eyes wide and in shock, his mouth open slightly. “They’ve never taken to someone so quickly.” Then quietly he adds, “Took Gojo forever and he bought them for me…”
And Yuuji frowns, wondering who Gojo is. He takes stock of the neat yet luxurious apartment with its floor to ceiling windows, high ceilings and a large kitchen with shiny, branded appliances. There’s no way a college student can afford something like this. Does…does Fushiguro have a sugar daddy? He’s hot enough for sure, and he sucks dick like it’s an Olympic sport.
His stomach curdles at the thought that Fushiguro might have that arrangement with someone but brushes it off, unwilling to let himself be jealous . Him and Fushiguro are nothing. Instead he focuses on the soft fur, the wet licks of the dogs who are still slurping at him and revels in his dream of being attacked by two big dogs. His moment of joy is interrupted when he hears Fushiguro mumble something, his face contorted into something unreadable.
“You say something?” Yuuji asks, a little out of breath as he finally begins pushing the dogs off of him.
Fushiguro jolts and his big, emerald eyes dart to Yuuji. “I said, I need to have higher standards,” Fushiguro replies, and swallows thickly. He shakes his head, a palm covering his forehead and it looks like he’s disappointed in himself but Yuuji can’t figure out why.
“Higher standards? For what?”
Shaking his head, Fushiguro says, “Never mind.”
“Okay…” he replies, before frowning at Fushiguro who stands a little awkwardly, his fingers twiddling with the hem of his shirt.
“Didyoustillwannafuckme?”
The words come out so fast that Yuuji barely catches them. If not for the way Fushiguro practically shouts them, Yuuji’s sure he would’ve missed it entirely.
He turns to look at Fushiguro, surprised, and finds Fushiguro wringing his hands looking absolutely mortified, eyes resolutely avoiding Yuuji’s. Well, this embarrassment won’t do. Sex is normal! Sex is fun! But more importantly —
“So I was right! You are the bottom!” Yuuji crows victoriously, a hand on his hip and a finger pointing at Fushiguro, who looks outraged.
“Do you wanna do this or not?” Fushiguro grits out, his face in that adorable scowl as he attempts to stare down Yuuji with his head tilted up.
Yuuji lets out a full-bellied laugh, bending over at his waist. Unthinking, he grabs Fushiguro’s hand and asks, “Bedroom?”
Fushiguro leads them to the back of the apartment and opens the door to his bedroom before closing it behind him, after telling his dogs to ‘ stay ’ in that authoritative tone of his that’s both confusing and arousing. His bedroom is as neat as the rest of the apartment and huge . There’s two bookshelves overflowing with books the size of Yuuji’s textbooks and a large king bed with plush looking dark navy covers. As they enter his bedroom, Fushiguro asks, “Isn’t this gonna be a little too gay for you?”
Yuuji makes himself at home flops onto Fushiguro’s bed, his back hitting the mattress and brings his hands behind his head to rest against. He thinks.
“Hmmmm. Not really. Any hole is the goal, ya know. Plus, it’s only really gay for the one taking it.”
“Are you being serious right now?” Fushiguro deadpans.
“Oh sorry,” Yuuji says, raising himself by his elbows, “Was that homophobic? Sorry, I can be really dumb sometimes so just tell me to fuck off if I said something offensive.”
“That’s not…” Fushiguro starts with two fingers steepling at his brow, then must think better of whatever it is he planned to say. “Never mind,” he finishes with another shake of his head and a sigh.
“God have mercy on me,” Yuuji hears Fushiguro whisper to himself as he stares up at the ceiling, his hands hanging limply by his sides.
“That’s not very nice to say to someone when you’re boutta have sex with them,” Yuuji jokes, barking a laugh.
Another resigned sigh later, Fushifuro’s standing at the edge of his bed, a hand on his narrow hips and his hand out, palm facing upwards. “Can you grab me my lube, it’s in the top drawer,” he says expectantly, but awkwardly. “I need to prepare myself.”
“One bottle of lube comin’ right up. Can I watch you prepare yourself?”
Fushiguro's face flushes all the way to his hairline. “ Why would you wanna watch that?”
Shrugging casually, Yuuji says, “I’m a curious guy. Plus, I’m always down to learn something new!” He finishes off his justification by placing his hands together like he’s praying, tilts his head to the side and adds, “Please?”
“ Fine ,” Fushiguro says, dragging his hand down his face and tentatively starts taking off his pants and boxer briefs, revealing toned, milky pale thighs, his shirt just long enough to cover where his cock is.
Fushiguro awkwardly gets onto his bed, peeling back his duvet covers to not dirty them. He turns around and shuffles on his knees so that his back is facing Yuuji. Once he’s grabbed the lube off of Yuuji’s hands and drizzled some over his fingers, he bends at the waist and Yuuji feels like he’s been winded by the sight of Fushiguro: he’s on his knees, face pressed into his mattress, face tilted to the side and his round, pert ass facing Yuuji — the very definition of face down, ass up.
The position also gives him a front row seat to Fushiguro’s cute puckered hole and Yuuji is surprised to find himself enamoured by it. It’s so fucking hot and he realises that he’s excited to see Fushiguro fingering himself open. Doesn’t think this excitement would extend to any other dude though. Other guys are gross and hairy, Yuuji thinks.
Not Fushiguro though. His ass is nice and smooth. Hairless. It’s fucking phenomenal, all round and plump. It’s better than all the chicks he’s slept with, he thinks. It’s shapely in a way that would only be possible on a guy.
Yuuji wants to bite into the meat of Fushiguro’s ass but settles for a slap instead and watches the way it jiggles. God, he can’t wait to fuck Fushiguro’s ass. The resounding high-pitched noise that comes from Fushiguro’s mouth after Yuuji slaps him sends a bolt of electricity to his cock. Reminds him of the noises girls usually make when he fingers them just right. “Oh, you like being slapped around, baby?”
Fushiguro doesn’t respond, just reaches behind himself and traces the skin around his hole and it makes Yuuji’s cock twitch in interest.
“Itadori, shut the fuck up,” Fushiguro bites out as he sinks the first finger deep into the pretty, pink hole with a low groan.
He sees the way Fushiguro’s cheeks have a dusting of pink and his words must’ve made Fushiguro embarrassed. Yuuji chuckles to himself and before he can help himself, grabs a handful of ass and squeezes. Fushiguro gasps.
“Sorry, you have a really nice ass, couldn’t resist,” Yuuji says and lands another slap on Fushiguro’s exposed butt cheek.
“Th-Thank you?” Fushiguro sputters through his continued prep, a confused lilt in his voice
“No worries!” Yuuji replies with a thumbs up, then settles himself back into his cushions and watches Fushiguro’s slender finger thrust in and out of his hole.
Thing is, Yuuji’s an impatient man. He’s also a do-er; not one to sit idly by and watch others do all the work. His friends say he has golden retriever energy and his grandpa put him into all kinds of sports at a young age for a reason. He’s getting impatient sitting here watching Fushiguro prep himself. The position can’t be comfortable for Fushiguro either. Like, his wrist is gonna start to hurt; it’s unsustainable and well, he likes to help out wherever he can! His grandpa instilled in him a strong desire to help others.
Body thrumming with restlessness, Yuuji brings a finger up to his own mouth and sucks it. Gathers up extra saliva to wet his finger. Then, he reaches forward so that his fingers join Fushiguro’s and slowly enters the hole in front of him, thrusting in tandem.
“I-Itadori?” Fushiguro gasps, slightly panicked.
Yuuji uses his other hand to rub Fushiguro’s ass soothingly. “It’s okay. Just me. Wanna help you out. Feel what you’re feeling too. I like learning, remember?”
He’s always found ass play hot in the (straight) porn he watches, and now’s no exception.
“Okay,” Fushiguro stutters out, and Yuuji withdraws Fushiguro’s hand, who brings it up to rest beside his head.
Grabbing the bottle of lube, he slicks up two fingers and pushes them in. Fushiguro lets out a slutty whine and oh boy, Yuuji likes the sound of that. He curls and twists his fingers this way and that — for science! He’d always enjoyed science experiments, even as a kid. Mentos in a coke bottle. Baking soda and vinegar. This isn’t any different, Yuuji thinks. He wants to know what makes Fushiguro moan like a bitch in heat.
He presses his fingers down, and Fushiguro moans like a whore. Success! He must’ve found Fushiguro’s prostate. See? He’s learning .
“M-More Yuuji, please ,” Fushiguro moans.
When he pulls his fingers out, he stills them and adds lube to his ring finger. Once it’s slicked up, he adds it to the two already inside Fushiguro and watches his hole stretch around Yuuji’s three fingers. He fingers Fushiguro with one hand and unbuttons his jeans with the other. He groans with relief when he gets his cock out and gives himself a few pumps. He’s surprised at how hard he is already.
A light sheen of sweat appears over Fushiguro’s pale, lean back, his juicy ass and thighs; he’s glowing and Yuuji thumbs at his own slit, spreading a bead of precum and fuck , he’s so turned on right now.
“Think you can take me yet?” he asks, an edge of desperation to his voice because on God, if he doesn’t get inside Fushiguro soon he’s going to fucking die. He’s so hard now it hurts, the head of his cock purpling and all he wants is to feel how possibly warm and wet Fushiguro is.
“Yeah, yeah, put it in,” Fushiguro rasps, his throat gravelly from how loud he’s been moaning from just Yuuji’s fingers prepping him.
“Got a condom?” Yuuji asks, a moment of responsible lucidity hitting him.
“I-I’m clean, we can go without if you are,” Fushiguro mutters shyly.
“Yeah, yeah I got tested recently,” Yuuji reassures.
His rim flutters nice and pretty when Yuuji all but yanks his fingers out, Fushiguro gasping and twitching. When he removes his pants the rest of the way, he gets on his knees. Yuuji smooths his palms over the twin globes of Fushiguro’s ass before lining his cock up. There’s a bit of resistance when he pushes the head of his cock against Fushiguro’s glistening entrance, but he adds a little more pressure and Fushiguro’s hole continues to stretch around the fat head.
“Oh…fuck, big , so big Ita-Itadori,” Fushiguro moans, breathless. Then Fushiguro brings both hands around to his ass and spreads his cheeks, fingers digging into the flesh. Yuuji thinks he’s going to have a fucking heart attack as he continues inching his thick cock inside Fushiguro, eyes frozen on the spot where he and Fushiguro join together. It’s obscene to see how the skin of Fushiguro’s hole stretches to accommodate Yuuji’s cock.
Eventually, Yuuji sheathes himself all the way to the base with a punched out groan and feels Fushiguro’s body fall limp as he lets out a high-pitched whimper. If Yuuji’s arm wasn’t wrapped around his waist, Fushiguro would’ve collapsed flat onto the bed.
Holy fucking hell, this is fucking incredible , Yuuji’s brain rattles out, somehow managing to strings words together, clinking like loose screws shaken in a box.
It’s everything Yuuji imagined it’d be and more . But he can’t tell if it’s an anal thing or a Fushiguro thing. He’s much too horny to think about that right now, anyway.
It’s so different to a pussy, that much he can parse. But like, a really fucking good different. If he’s not careful, he might get addicted to the way Fushiguro’s hole swallows and squeezes his entire cock. Addicted to the way Fushiguro’s warm heat engulfs the head of his sensitive cock all the way to the base, hugging his cock tight. He wants to make a fucking home inside Fushiguro.
The moment he feels Fushiguro relax entirely around him, Yuuji jackhammers into him, drawing out the sluttiest sounds from Fushiguro — it’s unbelievable, fucking incredible, how the sounds are like music to Yuuji’s ears.
“ Ahh , Itadori, slow down — you’re gonna hnng make me cum!” Fushiguro cries out, desperate and high-pitched, the sounds of skin slapping together almost drowning his voice out.
“Yeah baby? I’m making you feel that good you’re already gonna come?” Yuuji honestly doesn’t even know where the pet name comes from, he’s much too drunk on Fushiguro’s ass and his moans to unpack that at the moment.
Fushiguro just responds with little ‘ ah, ah, ahs ’, unable to formulate any coherent words.
Yuuji keeps pumping his hips, absolutely high off the feeling of Fushiguro’s tight, slick ass sucking Yuuji’s cock in and out. He watches in amazement as his cock disappears and reappears inside Fushiguro, sheer ecstasy burning through his body like an uncontrollable fire. “Come for me, babe. Show me how good I’m making you feel.”
It’s like he’s fucking the cum out of Fushiguro because he doesn’t stop thrusting his hips as he watches Fushiguro spurt ropes of cum all over his bed. God, that was so hot watching Fushiguro cum from just his dick. Didn’t even have to get his hands on his cock to have him cum.
Yuuji slows down when Fushiguro’s finished coming. Fushiguro weakly props himself up, turns his head to face Yuuji with a cute little frown on his face. “What’s wrong? Why’d you slow down? Didn’t you wanna come inside me?”
And fuck .
Yuuji’s just a dude. He’s just a little guy.
How can he resist that offer? He never gets to finish raw inside a girl, but this dude who’s pretty-like-a-girl is basically begging to creampie him, offering himself up on a silver platter. Really, he has no other option other than finishing inside Fushiguro today.
Yuuji can have a little creampie. As a treat.
“You want me to finish inside of you? Didn’t know you were such a slut, baby. Basically begging me to cream pie you. Whore.” He has no idea where this dirty talk comes from. He’s not usually one for it, finding it cringey but something about Fushiguro brings it out of him and feels right .
Fushiguro’s hole flutters and twitches around him. Alright. So Fushiguro likes this kinda dirty talk, which is like, fucking hot as hell. Some girls get sensitive about being called a slut but Yuuji really enjoys this kinda shit. He starts pounding his cock inside Fushiguro again, skin smacking loud and punctuated by Fushiguro’s little moans of pleasure. Whines Yuuji’s name, all drawn out and desperate. Yuuji feels like he’s losing his mind, already in the throes of an addiction as he listens to the wet squelch of his cock pumping in and out of Fushiguro’s hole.
Growling like a fucking animal, Yuuji finishes, the sheer tightness of Fushiguro’s hole milking him as his cock throbs and paints the insides of Fushiguro white. He slowly pulls out his cock, watching the pop as it leaves Fushiguro’s hole, then pulls one cheek aside and watches as the cum dribbles out of Fushiguro. “Fuck yeahh, that’s so hot.”
He swipes the cum that’s leaking out and shoves two fingers back inside Fushiguro’s hole. Fushiguro yelps and falls forward. “Itadori! Uuunnghh , too…too much,” but any protest dies on Fushiguro’s lips as Itadori continues fingering him slowly. Presses on his prostate with every thrust each time he’s deep enough to rub his fingers over the bundle of nerves.
“ Haa…nnnghh Itadori ,” Fushiguro cries as he comes again, his entire body trembling as he lays on his stomach, pliant and boneless.
Yuuji withdraws his fingers and kisses up Fushiguro’s spine, kitten licking the sweat off his back as Fushiguro catches his breath. Watches as Fushiguro’s eyes flutter beautifully while struggling to stay awake. “You can stay over if you want,” Fushiguro mumbles.
He realises they don’t even kiss once during that. Feels kinda rude. Like if you were gonna nut in a guy, the least you could do was give him some kisses. But then again, Fushiguro hadn’t tried to kiss him and Fushiguro knows gay sex best. With a shrug, he gets up and wets a hand towel he finds in Fushiguro’s bathroom with warm water. Goes over to Fushiguro’s stretched out body and gently wipes him down. He pulls an ass cheek to the side and watches more cum dribble out. His dick twitches and he thinks of his older brother as he cleans Fushiguro out, killing his boner immediately. Fushiguro is spent and he doesn’t wanna push him. Maybe another day.
Once he’s done, he slumps down in his bed and pulls the comforter over the both of them, turning on his side to face Fushiguro’s back. He tries resisting the urge to trace his fingers down each vertebrae of Fushiguro’s back but his impulsivity wins. Draws a slow, gentle line down Fushiguro’s back and he marvels at how his skin is so smooth and nice, warm from their activities. Yuuji falls asleep to the motion of his fingertips ghosting across Fushiguro’s skin.
Yuuji wakes to rays of filtered sunlight and someone hissing his name while slapping at his thigh. He groans and rubs at his sleep-addled eyes. “Whaa’s goin’ on.”
“What’s going on , is you’re grinding your huge dick against my ass,” Fushiguro hisses.
“Huh?” he says, and oh, that makes sense. They both went to bed naked and some time in the middle of the night, he must’ve wrapped an arm around Fushiguro’s waist and pulled him close. His pelvis is flush against Fushiguro’s bottom half and his unmistakable morning wood is exposed and pressed firm between Fushiguro’s bare ass cheeks, warm and snug. “Oh.”
A beat of silence between them.
“Wanna help me out bro?” Yuuji says, as a joke, his eyes closing once again with the hope that he can fall back asleep.
He hears a huff and a muttered, “Unbelievable,” and assumes it’s directed at him. He feels Fushiiguro pull away from his arms. “I was just jok — “ but he’s cut off as soft lips wrap around the head of his hard cock before a warm heat engulfs his entire length, setting his nerves alight and tingling along his core.
“God, Fushi ,” he gasps, hands immediately fisting into Fushiguro’s soft black locks.
Fushiguro’s mouth is unrelenting. He’s pulling every trick in the book to make Yuuji come, because by now, Fushiguro knows exactly how to get Yuuji off with just his mouth. It gets increasingly wet over his dick and he knows Fushiguro’s letting saliva pool in his mouth because nothing beats a sloppy blowjob in Yuuji’s opinion.
Yuuji’s squirming and writhing under Fushiguro’s assault of his cock, unable to restrain himself from moaning like he’s the bitch in heat this time. Fushiguro moans around his cock and the vibrations and tight pressure goes straight to his balls. He’s rutting slow against the mattress, his hips rolling smooth like the waves and it’s so hot, it’s so hot, Yuuji thinks.
He’s straight, Yuuji’s sure, but something about how Fushiguro’s getting enjoyment from pleasing him that he also wants to get off is so sexy. Or it could be that whenever Fushiguro has Yuuji’s cock in his mouth, Yuuji.exe just stops working.
Whatever it is, Yuuji’s fucking embarrassingly close despite the fact that Fushiguro hasn’t been sucking him off for that long. He starts pistoning his hips up into Fushiguro’s mouth, hand gripped tight around the short hairs on the back of his head.
“ Unff , fuck Fushi, c-close. Jesus, who the fuck taught you how to suck cock?” Yuuji rasps, slowly unravelling like a loose thread on an old knit jumper.
Fushiguro keeps deepthroating the shit outta his cock while swirling his tongue around his tip, wrapping it around and rubbing it along his shaft. His cheeks hollow as he sucks down Yuuji’s length, his wet lips applying the perfect amount of pressure. Fushiguro’s lips are a burning red, stretched wide around the girth of Yuuji’s cock. There are tears gathering at the corners of Fushiguro’s bright, green eyes.
It’s so soft and wet and unbelievably hot in Fushiguro’s mouth, he feels like he’s gonna go insane. Each time Fushiguro pulls back, his cock is glistening with drool. The sounds of little chokes and gasps as Fushiguro takes his entire length fills the entire room. He feels like he’s been punched each time Fushiguro slides down and a heat steadily builds in his core.
Then Fushiguro’s bright, green eyes flicker up to meet his and —
“Oh, fuuuck ,” Yuuji groans, his hips lifting off the bed and fucking into Fushiguro’s mouth as he comes.
Fushiguro continues sucking while swallowing his cum, easing the pressure and licking his slit until Yuuji pulls away with a loud, wet pop.
“You gotta be joking me,” Yuuji breathes out as he watches Fushiguro use his thumb to gather flecks of cum that spilled to the corners of his mouth. He then proceeds to suck said thumb and swallow the remainder of Yuuji’s cum. Yuuji watches, wide-eyed with amazement, and says, “I’d marry the shit outta the girl version of you.”
With a blank expression, Fushiguro shrugs, rights his clothing and excuses himself to go to the bathroom. For a moment, Yuuji wonders if Fushiguro jerks himself off in there after he’s sucked the life outta Yuuji. He wonders what his cock looks like, if it’s as pretty as the rest of him and if Fushiguro would let him —
Yuuji cuts himself off from his thoughts and stares at his ceiling fan for a while after that.
When Fushiguro returns from the bathroom some few minutes later,Yuuji’s lying supine on his bed contemplating his life choices, eyebrows furrowed. The click of his bathroom door opening disrupts his thoughts and he bolts up to face Fushiguro. He's kinda hungry now, as if Fushiguro sucked all the nutrients from his body with that single mouthful of cum.
“Hey, you wanna grab breakfast?” Yuuji asks, hopeful (for what he doesn’t know) as he watches Fushiguro get dressed for the day.
Fushiguro looks at Yuuji, giving him a funny look as he tugs a shirt over his head. He straps on an expensive looking watch and checks the time.
“Nah, meeting someone already,” he responds. “You can let yourself out right? Just lock the door behind you,” and walks towards his bedroom door. Just before he exits the room, Fushiguro throws a glance over his shoulder and says, “See ya another time.”
He watches Fushiguro leave the room, then hears the front door click shut and something in him falters. Before he can consider what it is, he reaches for his phone, and texts Todo instead.
Chapter 2: sick like animals, we play pretend
Summary:
Yuuji and Megumi's relationship continue and Yuuji starts to experience some strange feelings.
Chapter Text
It’s super late one Saturday night; around two am. Him and the other boys from his frat are hanging out on Discord and playing game after game of Valorant, when his phone lights up. The Caller ID shows that it’s Fushiguro, which is weird as hell and a little alarming. Fushiguro never calls him. They also haven’t seen each other in about two weeks; the longest stretch of time since they’ve become friends.
“One sec guys,” Yuji says into his headset before pulling them off and flicking the switch to mute his mic. “Hello?”
“Itadoriiiiii, heeeey,” Fushiguro slurs, clearly intoxicated and at a club, the bass pumping so loud that Yuuji can barely hear him.
“Fushi, what’s up? You okay?” Yuuji asks, a little concerned because he knows Fushiguro’s not a big drinker, meaning he’s probably a massive lightweight.
He’s also been around enough drunk people to know that he’s either getting a booty call or Fushiguro’s feeling a little vulnerable and loose-lipped from being intoxicated.
“I’m good. I feel good, I think? I was just thinking about you and wanted to hear your voice,” Fushiguro says. “Sorry, that was weird to say, we’re not like that,” Fushiguro winces, continuing to slur his words.
Yuujii laughs at how awkward Fushiguro sounds but he’s a little endeared that Fushiguro was thinking about him while he was out.
“Shouldn’t you be with your friends?”
“Shoulda, coulda, woulda. Yeah I shoulddddd but I have nooooo idea where they are,” Fushiguro giggles. It’s cute, he doesn’t think he’s ever really heard Fushiguro laugh before. Then, “Hey, touch me again and I’ll break your fucking fingers. Ugh, gross. Sorry, Itadori, some people have noo concept of personal space.”
Well, that’s not good.
He has no doubt that Fushiguro can look after himself but he’s drunk. Also, if Fushiguro looks good on a regular day, his night out at the club means he’s probably looking like an absolute snack. Who knows how many sleazebags will try something. Yuuji can’t, in good conscience, leave Fushiguro out on his own like this.
“Fushi, I’m gonna come pick you up and take you home. Send me the name of the club that you’re at.”
Fushiguro gasps like he’s outraged. “No, what? Why? Don’t do that,”
“Fushi, come on. You don’t know where your friends are and you’ve clearly had a bit to drink.”
“No, YOU’VE had a bit to drink,” Fushiguro says, giggling away again.
Yuuji forgot how much work drunk people are. It’s been a while since he’s gone to a party. He pinches the bridge of his nose and says, “Just tell me where you are, please? I’m not doing anything and I don’t want you alone.”
“You’re no funnnn,” Fushiguro says, then proceeds to blow a raspberry into his phone. “Fine.”
There’s a buzz from his phone and, thank god, it’s a location pin from Fushiguro. “Thanks Fushi, I’m gonna come get you now okay?”
“Okaaay, party pooper.” Another raspberry and then more giggles.
Yuuji grins to himself. “Alright, see you soon, Fushi,”
“’Kayyy,’ Fushiguro responds and hangs up.
Fushiguro’s pretty cute when he’s drunk, Yuuji thinks and grabs his wallet, car keys and a bottle of water for Fushiguro. He tells his friends on Discord that he’s heading off (they boo him, his brother blasting simp over his headphones) and gets into his car. Clicking the location pin that Fushiguro sent opens up the directions on his phone’s navigation app with the name of the club.
The club’s familiar to Yuuji, having been there a few times. Knows it’s easy to get lost in it because it’s like a maze. He thinks it’s pretty shitty Fushiguro’s friends didn’t make more of an effort to make sure he didn’t get lost. If he went out with Fushiguro, he’d make sure Fushiguro never leaves his sight. He’s just so small and precious.
When he arrives at the club, he has to argue and bribe the bouncer to let him in. Apparently the ratio of guys and girls was really unbalanced tonight. It’s been a while since he’s been to a club and he finds he doesn’t miss it at all. The sweaty bodies and pump of the bass that’s so loud it vibrates through your whole body is gross and giving him a headache.
He’s making his way through the crowd, trying to spot a head of spikey black hair and sees him sitting at a booth, resting his head atop crossed forearms, looking a little sad. His eyes flit around and when he spots Yuuji, he perks up and stands.
Yeah, Fushiguro’s definitely a whole ass snack tonight. He’s wearing a long sleeve jumper that’s purposely ripped and cropped. There’s gold jewellery adorning his slim waist, hanging loosely and effortlessly. His long, baggy pants have a slit on the outer side, with thigh highs peeking out of the window the slits create. and platform boots that make his legs look like they go on for miles. A hobgoblin crosses Yuuji’s neurons holding a sign that says, “Fushiguro is one sexy motherfucker,” but Yuuji shakes him away — tonight’s not the night for that.
Fushiguro ambles towards Yuuji like a newborn deer, his arms outstretched, a sweet smile on his face and practically falls into Yuuji arms. “Hey, Fushi, bit drunk there?” Yuuji coos teasingly.
“You came!” Fushiguro says, bright and dulcet, and even with platform boots, he still has to look up at Yuuji
“Yeah, I said I would, didn't I?” Yuuji replies, and affixes Fushiguro’s arms so they’re comfortably laced around his neck to stop him from tripping. Just another thing he needs; drunk Fushiguro with a broken leg.
“I-I know, but I didn’t actually think…” and then Fushiguro falters. Yuuji looks down and realises how close their faces are. Fushiguro’s eyes look a little solemn but Yuuji notes how long his eyelashes are. There’s a dust of light brown freckles across the bridge of his nose and cheeks. Fushiguro’s so pretty, it should be criminal.
“Come on, let’s go,” Yuuji says, hauling Fushiguro out of the club before he starts drunk crying or something.
He’s still holding onto Fushiguro when he unlocks his car with a beep and Fushiguro’s solemn demeanour changes as he squeals delightedly. “You have an Audi R8? Ugh, of course you do, rich boy.”
“It’s my older brother’s. Sukuna? I’m sure you’ve heard of him; frat president and resident shady dude.”
Fushiguro pulls a face like ‘ eugh’ and Yuuji’s secretly pleased at the reaction since Sukuna’s been stealing girls from him since he was thirteen. It’s why he hasn’t actually found a girlfriend.
“You’re one to talk though, I’ve seen your apartment,” Yuuji jokes.
Fushiguro crosses his arms and frowns. “It’s not even mine, it’s Gojo’s.”
His tone is final, like he doesn’t wanna talk about it further so Yuuji leaves it at that but his stomach is still unsettled as he considers the fact that Fushiguro might very well have a sugar daddy. It wouldn’t be hard for him to find one with how pretty he is.
And then he reminds himself he shouldn’t care . He has no claim to Fushiguro’s life.
When Fushiguro slides in the car, he oohs and ahhs while sliding his hands up and down the leather seats. He whispers a quiet ‘wow’ when Yuuji turns on the heated seats and the warmth permeates through the front seats. “This car is so cool,” Fushiguro says, with twinkling eyes. A warm sensation blooms in Yuuji’s chest when he sees it, unable to miss how his heart jumps but too late in the night for him to dissect its meaning. “Gojo’s got one just like this,” Fushiguro comments quietly
Yuuji ignores the mention of Gojo and instead, turns to his side door and grabs the bottle of water and hands it to Fushiguro. “Here, brought this for you. Drink this whole bottle, but slowly, you’ll thank me tomorrow.”
A look that’s extremely soft but also like he’s going to cry crosses Fushiguro’s face. “You’re so nice to me,” Fushiguro whispers.
Yuuji snorts because he thinks he’s just being a decent fucking human being. “It’s not a problem. So, remind me of where you live so I can take you home.”
As Fushiguro recites his address for Yuuji to put into Google Maps, that soft look remains on Fushiguro’s face. Bright green eyes glisten in the dark and his cheeks are dusted pink from the cold. His slightly parted lips shine under the glow of street lights (because holy crap, is Fushiguro wearing lip gloss?) that cast a shadow over Fushiguro’s face. He looks ethereal; other worldly.
Something in Yuuji’s heart seizes because Fushiguro looks so pretty yet vulnerable at the same time and he’s just glad he got to Fushiguro in time to take him home. Some weirdo or creep could have taken advantage of Fushiguro’s inebriated state and taken him who knows where and done who knows what.
When he starts driving towards Fushiguro’s apartment, he reaches over the gearbox to put a comforting hand on Fushiguro’s thigh. He squeezes and looks over at Fushiguro who gives him a small, dazzling smile. Also notices how nice Fushiguro’s thighs are. Somehow simultaneously soft yet firm. He makes a mental note to spend more time on Fushiguro’s thighs the next time they get together.
Which leads him to think of how confusing Fushiguro is to him. He’d never entertained the idea of a man being sexy to him before. Men were gross, with their body hair and body odour and brash, toxic machismo. Even the thought makes him shiver.
Fushiguro wasn’t like that — has absolutely none of the characteristics that Yuuji usually associates with men. He’s all soft skin, angelic features with a delicate disposition. He had a certain gentleness about him. Not that he couldn’t fully fuck up a man twice his size if he needed to; Fushiguro had offhandedly told him about how used to beat bullies in middleschool. The pretty boy could hold his own.
And he was also a massive cockslut, can’t forget that. Not that Yuuji could forget even if he wanted to. He’d only dreamed of finding a woman who revelled in sucking his cock the way Fushiguro seemed to and it was fucking with his head. Got him thinking all kinds of crazy shit.
“You’re really not what I expected,” Fushiguro says, quietly and out of the blue.
“Oh yeah? Is that a good thing?”
Fushiguro hums as if in thought. “Don’t know. I thought you’d be an asshole, like your older brother.” He closes his eyes and leans his head back on the headrest, nuzzling himself into the bucket seat. “Would be easier if you were an asshole,” he adds, something a little sad in his tone.
He should probably question Fushiguro on what he means by that, but Fushiguro looks one second away from fully passing the fuck out. Plus, trying to have a serious conversation with drunk people is like trying to reason with a toddler, so he just lets it go.
The sight of Fushiguro in his car swallowed by the bucket seat is endearing. He looks extra tiny and there’s something about him that makes Yuuji want to wrap him up in a fuzzy blanket and take care of him.
When they arrive at Fushiguro’s apartment, he’s still asleep, breathing even and chest rising. He scrunches his nose a bit and Yuuji decides it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen.
“Fushiguro? Fushiiii,” he says, gently shaking Fushiguro by the shoulder, who merely mumbles something nonsensical. He catches something like, ‘make it make sense’ but has no idea of the context.
Instead, he moves Fushiguro so he can be lifted into a bridal carry and Fushiguro’s slender arms automatically wrap around Yuuji’s neck. His fingertips delicately brush against Yuuji’s skin and Yuuji feels Fushiguro scraping his nails gently against his undercut. Nuzzling into Yuuji’s chest, Fushiguro murmurs, “‘M sleepy.”
Yuuji chuckles. “Almost there sweetheart.”
When they get to Fushiguro’s apartment he sets Fushiguro down and he does the adorable drunk dance of trying to find his keys by patting all over his body.
Once it’s open, Fushiguro lumbers in and collapses face first onto the couch closest to the front door. Yuuji shakes his head, a small smile on his face. He knows the routine. Nobody wants to actually go to sleep in the clothes they wore on a night out. So he walks to the couch and picks him up again before taking him into his large bedroom. He gently lays Fushiguro down who rubs his face into his soft duvet covers. Fushiguro blinks his glazed eyes open and wow Fushiguro has really, really pretty eyes! How did Yuuji not notice this before? He’s literally been inside of Fushiguro multiple times.
Oh right. Fushiguro’s always on his knees when Yuuji’s fucking him. Maybe that was a mistake, because Fushiguro’s eyes are entrancing. Beautiful, crystalline emeralds, big and bright — they’re the prettiest eyes Yuuji’s come across. Wild.
He shakes his head as he focuses on getting Fushiguro changed. He is squirmy and giggly when Yuuji goes to take off his pants, calling him a ‘pervert’ and slapping his hands away lightly.
“Come on Fushi baby, cooperate with me here.”
“No! You’re being a pervert, groping me and shit,” Fushiguro giggles with another light slap of his hand on Yuuji’s chest.
Yuuji hangs his head forward with a sigh and walks over to Fushiguro dresser. He pulls a pair of pyjamas out. They’re blue with a black and white dog printed on the pants and the top is a plain navy. They look expensive and soft.
He walks back over to Fushiguro and drops the pyjamas next to him. “I just want you changed into your pyjamas, Fushi, see?” he says, holding up the pair of folded pyjamas.
“Hmmmmmm,” Fushiguro says, stroking his chin dramatically like he’s deep in thought. “Okay, I’ll allow it,” before dropping back onto the bed like a starfish.
Grateful he now has Fushiguro’s cooperation, he starts yanking Fushiguro’s pants down in earnest. Fushiguro wriggles around the bed like a worm to ‘help’ and eventually, they manage to get them down to his thigh.
Yuuji swears when his gaze flits to Fushiguro’s underwear, if it can even be called that. It’s a lacy black number that leaves very little to the imagination. A small triangle of fabric covers the front, barely holding his cute cock in and then it’s basically a piece of string all the way around. He desperately tries not to think about how it looks from the back, how the string of fabric would sit nestled between Fushiguro’s gorgeous, plump ass cheeks.
Eventually, no thanks to Fushiguro, Yuuji’s able to dress him in his pyjamas and those obscene panties are now thankfully, all covered up. (Yuuji was truly about to have an honest to God mental breakdown if he had to keep seeing Fushiguro’s pretty pink cock fighting for its life to be contained by the meagre fabric.)
Grabbing the bottle of water he’d placed beside Fushiguro’s bed, he uncaps the bottle and gently props Fushiguro upright with his palm splayed across the middle of Fushiguro’s back.
“Come on, drink some water before you pass out,” he says, then lifts the bottle to Fushiguro’s lips and carefully tips it back.
Fushiguro obediently takes a few mouthfuls of water and Yuuji watches his throat bob each time he swallows. After Fushiguro’s done, Yuuji pulls the bottle away and he’s immediately captivated by Fushiguro’s pink, water-slick lips. They look really…kissable. And Yuuji thinks about what it might be like to kiss Fushiguro. Would his lips be as soft as they look? Does Fushiguro use a lot of tongue? Does Fushiguro like a lot of tongue? How does Fushiguro like to be kissed? Soft and sweet or rough and hard?
Wait, Yuuji thinks. He needs to stop thinking about kissing Fushiguro because he’s pretty sure that’s gay question mark?
Hmm. Many things to think about. Maybe he’ll ask Nobara.
“You leavin’ now?” Fushiguro murmurs sleepily, interrupting Yuuji’s rare moment of introspection.
Eyes half-lidded, cheeks still a little rosy and dressed in soft pyjamas, Yuuji smiles at Fushiguro. He feels warm and so very fond of his friend right now. Kinda doesn’t wanna leave him. He really does enjoy Fushiguro’s company; it’s such a breath of fresh air. “Yeah, it’s really late and I gotta drive back home.”
“Stay,” Fushigoru says, his long black lashes fluttering against his cheekbones as he slow blinks at Yuuji.
“Huh? You sure?”
Fushiguro starts to burrow himself under his covers and scoots himself closer to the wall. Propping himself up on an elbow, Fushiguro peels back the blanket lazily and pats the empty space next to him. Through a yawn, he says, “Look, plenty o’ space.”
Welp. If Fushiguro’s offering and says it’s okay, he might as well. Not like they haven’t shared a bed before so it shouldn’t be some weird thing. Plus, he really doesn’t feel like driving home right now, and why should he when there’s a perfectly good bed right in front of him. There’s so much space and really, these sheets look like they’re a thousand thread count Egyptian cotton. Sukuna has them but he’d rather slit his own throat than ask to try out his brother’s sheets.
Yuuji strips his jeans and hoodie off, leaving him in only his briefs. Feeling more naked than he’s ever felt in his life, he hurries to slide under the covers. Fushiguro’s on his back, eyes closed and breathing evenly. When he gets into the bed, he turns on his side, facing away from Fushiguro. It doesn’t take long for him to feel drowsy — he’s exhausted.
As his breaths slow and his body relaxes, a skinny arm wraps around his waist and the soft fabric of Fushiguro’s pyjamas brush against his back. Fushiguro’s body is warm against him.
“G’night Yuuji,” Fushiguro whispers into the nape of his neck, muffled and oh so sweet.
“Night Fushi,” Yuuji replies.
“Call me Megumi,” he says drowsy and Yuuji’s heart beams.
“Okay, call me Yuuji then.”
“Yuuuujii,” Megumi tests on his tongue, before his breathing evens out.
And just before he drifts off, Yuuji thinks: This is nice. This is really nice.
Yuuji takes Megumi (Megumi! He can call him Megumi!) out to breakfast the next morning after waking up with Megumi drooling on his chest. Well, breakfast is a bit of a stretch because Megumi just orders a black coffee with no sugar, and Yuuji vomits in his mouth a little. Maybe Megumi’s not a big eater? Or maybe he’s adopted the poor eating habits of the cheerleading team around him.
He knows how whack some of their thoughts can be about body image and all that. He’s been privy to enough conversations about diets and skipped meals to know what they’re like. Doesn’t help that Megumi’s a flyer so his weight will be more likely to be pointed out than regular people.
“It’ll help your hangover,” he says.
So Megumi adds a ham and cheese toastie to their order. Something akin to pride swells in Yuuji’s heart at Megumi’s acquiescence because it feels like he’s taking care of Megumi. It further blooms when his insistence to eat all of it works.
Not without some defiance though. Megumi scowls at him and scoffs it down. His cheeks bulge like a chipmunk as he dramatically shovels a huge bite into his mouth and it’s adorable so he grins at Megumi. He likes seeing Megumi eat and makes a note to treat Megumi to meals more often.
When they’re done and Megumi’s getting ready to leave. A slight panic worms its way into Yuuji’s chest at the thought of separating from Megumi and so he impulsively shouts, “Do you wanna watch a movie?”
Megumi pauses for a moment, as if in thought. He shakes his head. “I’ve got a study group for an upcoming test.”
It’s a reasonable enough reason to reject Yuuji’s plans but he can’t help the disappointment he feels. It’s fleeting but vast, winding him and leaves him cold and bare. It’s an unfamiliar feeling and Yuuji doesn’t like it one bit. But what can he do?
“Okay, another time then,” he says instead.
Megumi waves goodbye and Yuuji watches as he becomes a dot in the distance, too far away for Yuuji to grasp.
They’re at a party the next time they see each other. Yuuji’s just arrived with his posse in tow.
“’Kay pookies, let’s get fucked up,” Nobara says, cutely before masterfully dodging bodies as she makes her way to the liquor table.
Yuuji looks around. He’s the designated driver tonight so he can’t get fucked up, as much as he wants to. It’s been a week since he’s seen Megumi, much less spoken to him and he’s feeling twitchy. Like he wants to fight someone or breakdown and cry, he can’t decide.
There’s people everywhere, drinking, smoking and dancing. Sweaty bodies gyrating to the beat of the house music that’s blasting over the speakers. A big fuck off sized bong is being passed around a group of people huddled on the couches. Someone looks blazed out of their mind already and God, it’s only nine thirty.
As he makes his way deeper into the party, people keep greeting him, even people he’s never met before. They’re all congratulating him on the football team’s last win or saying good luck for their future games. He gets offered drinks and other substances, all for free, but he declines them all and thanks them. Such is the life of a famous collegiate athlete, he sighs.
Annoyingly, some mistake him for Sukuna which, whatever, he’s used to it.
It’s when his sight drifts over to where Nobara initially ran off to, that he sees it: Megumi hoisting himself up onto the kitchen counter, lying down on his back with his legs hanging off the edge and a wedge of lime held between his teeth. There’s a guy standing to Megumi’s side with a vile look of lust on his face. Another guy he recognises as part of his football team balances a shot of tequila on Megumi’s naval and is dusting a line of salt up Megumi’s flat stomach.
Vaguely, he hears Todo yelp. “Brother! Wher — ,”
But Yuuji’s already stormed off, something like fury bubbling inside of him as he makes his way towards Megumi and the nasty teammate who’s too close to Megumi’s bare torso. The guy’s just about to dip his head down to take a shot off Megumi’s body when Yuuji shoves him away who yells something Yuuji can’t hear.
Yuuji wraps his mouth around the shot glass, throws his head back and feels the trickle of burning liquor travel down his throat.
“Brother, you’re supposed to be our dd,” Todo sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Ignoring him, he takes his tongue and drags it along the warm skin of Meguni’s stomach, licking up the line of salt. He presses a kiss to Megumi’s sternum where the line of salt ends and hovers over Megumi’s mouth, catching Megumi’s surprised look of recognition before bending down to take the lime from Megumi. His eyes scrunch closed from the sour lime juice and he spits out the drained lime slice onto the counter.
Megumi looks at him in bemusement and sits up.
Before Megumi says another word, he’s slung Megumi over his shoulder like a burlap sack of potatoes and is making his way upstairs to find an empty room. It takes a few tries, walking in on people doing various things. He thinks there was definitely a furry orgy about to happen even though no one was naked (yet) but he’s too preoccupied to care.
Finally, he finds an empty room, locks the door and tosses Megumi onto the bed. Megumi bounces a little from the velocity, eyes wide and lips parted looking incredibly confused. “Yuuji, what the fu —“
But before he can finish, Yuuji crushes his lips over Megumi and oh my god, why didn’t they do this sooner?
Megumi’s lips are so soft, his mouth a little small but Yuuji loves it and it feels like heaven when he sucks on Megumi’s tongue and it makes Megumi moan into his mouth. He doesn’t give Megumi a chance to catch his breath, his hind brain chanting mine, mine, mine for some fuck ass reason. It’s bizarre because Yuuji’s never been one to be possessive over his things, much less people he’s just sleeping with. If he were, he wouldn’t have the reputation he does today.
But all he can think as he ravages Megumi’s mouth is how no one else should be touching him, how Megumi’s body belongs to him and Yuuji’s cock is the only one Megumi needs. He passes it off as a side effect of not seeing Megumi for a week so he’s just extra horny or something. It’s the only thing that makes sense, especially as his brain orders his body to get the fuck inside Megumi now, orders him to ruin Megumi with his cock.
(For a hot second, Yuuji considers that Megumi might have holes enchanted by magic but then promptly realises how fucking ridiculous that would be.)
Reluctantly, he pulls away from Megumi with an annoyed grunt and flings open the bedside table drawers in search of lube. Once he finds it, he throws it on the sheets to the side and attaches his lips to Megumi’s once again. His motions feel desperate and fast but he doesn’t fucking care because Megumi is his in body and name and Yuuji wants to fuck him into the mattress until the day he dies.
Yuuji’s got one hand on the zipper of Megumi’s jeans and pulls them off, clumsily with one hand. Megumi bends his knees to bring his legs up and helps Yuuji take them off, because again, Megumi is considerate like that. It makes the feeling of possession grow.
“Yuuji,” Megumi breathes in between kisses, “Slow down.”
“Can’t, need to get inside you now,” Yuuji growls, lips still sliding against Megumi with an unknown urgency and entire body feeling like a live wire whose only source of electricity is Megumi’s body. “Wanna feel you wrapped around my cock already, babe.”
Megumi mewls as Yuuji uses his tongue to trace a line against Megumi’s tongue, saliva mixing and smearing their lips. The intensity of their kiss goes straight to his cock. Yuuji pats around for the lube and once he has has it in hand, he flips Megumi over onto his stomach. Megumi’s back arches automatically, raising his hips and revealing his perfect pink hole for Yuuji to devour.
Hurriedly, Yuuji uncaps the lube and squeezes a stupid amount of lube directly onto Megumi’s hole and watches it drip down to his taint and his balls. Megumi jolts from the cold while Yuuji rubs his fingers through the mess of lube, circling the puckered ridges of Megumi’s rim before sliding an entire finger inside Megumi.
Megumi moans wanton and fervid, body trembling as Yuuji pistons his finger in and out of Megumi’s hungry hole, his cock bursting through his jeans from how hard he is. His free hand is squeezing Megumi’s ass, pulling a cheek to the side so he can watch his fingers stretch Megumi out.
“Ahh, Yuuji, more. Please.”
So he adds another finger, immediately scissoring his fingers and twisting his wrist while Megumi makes the sexiest noises known to man. He bends down, bites Megumi’s ass and slaps it; gods Megumi’s ass was made for biting and slapping. He slaps it again and watches it jiggle and he thinks how it’s probably the greatest ass he’s ever seen. Megumi moans and starts fucking himself back on Yuuji’s fingers, grinding down each time he’s two knuckles deep and it makes Megumi’s ass look even better. The smooth pale skin of his right cheek is marred by the reddened hand print from being slapped. Yuuji lays another slap on the same cheek and watches as the colour deepens.
He groans. “God, you’re so fucking sexy.”
Yuuji stuffs another finger in Megumi because he’s got a big dick and if he doesn’t get inside Megumi in the next minute, he’s literally going to die. Licking up Megumi’s spine, his back arched beautifully, Yuuji whispers against the hard shell of Megumi’s ear, “Think you’re ready for me?”
“Yes. Yes, yes. Please get inside me,” Megumi begs and fuck he’s such a cockslut, Yuuji loves it.
Megumi whines when he removes his fingers.
“Shh shh, it’s okay babe, I’ve got you,” Yuuji says as he drizzles additional lube over his cock.
He pumps his hands over his cock to spread the lube then guides it towards Megumi’s glistening red hole. “Gonna be a good boy and take it all?”
“Yeah, yes, I’m your good boy,” Megumi moans.
Yuuji swears as the tip of his cock pops into Megumi’s hole, squeezing around the head of his dick. It already feels phenomenal, sending something white hot and blazing to his core. He inches his way in until he bottoms out, and promptly falls forward onto Megumi’s back.
It’s wildly intense tonight, his nerves on fire and body alight to a volcanic degree. Megumi’s insides feel like a velvet wrap, compressing his cock like he was made for Yuuji. Be so fucking serious, Yuuji thinks, that’s impossible. And yet, the way he’s sweating from the heat, his hips twitching with minute thrusts from how phenomenal he feels points to the possibility.
He props himself back up and just looks at Megumi; the curve of his back, the shape of his torso, the rounded globes of his ass. Yuuji feels like a man starved as he takes in the sight of Megumi, laid out on a silver platter just for him, absolutely ripe for the taking.
This desire to possess Megumi makes him feel like he’s going fucking insane. There’s an urgency within him to take and take and take; make it known that Megumi’s body is his.
“Gods, you feel like a dream baby,” Yuuji sighs, body tingling with pleasure as he remains unmoving buried to the hilt inside Megumi.
“Mmmmm, please, Yuuji,” Megumi whisper-moans, grinding back against Yuuji, his hips circling and soft skin rubbing against Yuuji’s pelvis.
Yuuji rolls his hips once, pulling his cock out to the tip to rest at his hole before slamming back in. Megumi gasps into the sheets. “What do you want, baby? Use your words.”
He repeats that motion again and again until Megumi is trembling beneath him with a little drool leaking out of his mouth. Yuuji has to tighten his grip where his hip meet the top of his thighs to keep Megumi’s ass propped up, fingers digging into Megumi’s flesh at a bruising pressure.
“Fuck me Yuuji,” Megumi moans in broken intervals, his hips desperately trying to fuck himself back on Yuuji’s cock. But Yuuji’s bruising grip making it impossible for him to, and Megumi whines.
He decides to cut Megumi some slack — but not too much — and pulls his hips back slowly and pushes forward, slowly increasing his pace until Megumi is crying, whimpering his name breathlessly, loudly. Yuuji would almost be concerned with people overhearing him and Megumi copulating but he’s so driven by lust that he doesn’t care. Megumi’s hole is just so tight and the way Megumi’s ass cheeks bounce every time he buries himself deep — it has white-hot pleasure pool from his chest and converge all the way down to his groin.
“Yuuji, Yuuji, so fucking…big. So unnghh fullllll,” Megumi moans, slurring his words like he’s absolutely cock drunk on Yuuji’s big dick plowing in and out of him.
Let it be known that Itadori Yuuji enjoys having his ego stroked because Megumi saying he’s big sends a fresh wave of arousal over him and he moans low and deep as he says, “Fucking hell, your hole drives me crazy. So fucking tight and taking me so well.”
He breathes in deep as he changes his rhythm, opting for deep, languid rolls of his hips, making sure to thrust up once he’s almost all the way in. It hits Megumi’s prostate with each thrust and Megumi keens. The small room they’ve taken over reeks of sweat and sex and his nostrils flair when he catches faint traces of jasmine — Megumi’s scent.
The familiarity of it makes his cock throb inside Megumi and goosebumps bloom over his naked, sweaty skin. Individual scents isn’t something he’s paid attention to before and yet, his lizard brain chants Megumi, Megumi, Megumi.
Then before he can think about what his words might mean, he snarls, “All mine baby, this hole’s all mine, only I’m allowed to ruin this hole.”
Megumi is panting, releasing choked moans but that’s not enough for Yuuji. “Say it, Megumi,” he bites out. “Say your hole belongs me,” and lands a stinging slap to Megumi’s left ass cheeks. He’s thrilled as a red hand print manifests itself onto Megumi’s smooth, pale cheek.
“ Guuuuh , yo - yours Yuuji, only want your cock, ” Megumi cries out, his voice hoarse from the constant moans of pleasure.
“That’s right. Only mine. Look at you, crying for my cock.”
When he pulls his cock back out to the tip, he gathers enough saliva in his mouth and bending down, spits it where they’re joined. Can’t help but fixate on the area as his saliva spreads over his shaft each time he fucks into Megumi. “Feel that? Feel me fucking my spit into your slut hole?”
Megumi nods his head pathetically, rubbing the side of his face into the sheets. “Gods, you’re such a cockslut — my cockslut.”
Megumi’s close to his peak; Yuuji can feel it from how his walls are twitching and clenching sporadically around Yuuji’s cock. He’s exhaling breathy groans and keening and crying out, “There, fuck, right there, Yuuji, unggghhh ,” and pushing his plush ass back onto Yuuji’s dick. Yuuji’s slamming so deep he’s basically rearranging Megumi’s guts and the thought fuels his thrusting.
Megumi comes with a high pitched whine, his thighs trembling beneath Yuuji’s bruising grip, and a few thrusts later, Yuuji falls over the edge — so hard that he swears he blacks out for a moment as his cock tingles from the base to the tip, emptying his load inside of Megumi.
They both lay side by side only their backs, staring at the ceiling, heartbeats racing and breathing heavily.
Yuuji gets up first to grab the tissue box from the bedside table and asks Megumi to flip over on his stomach, who complies with a confused grunt and a furrow of his eyebrows. He proceeds to clean Megumi up, gently wiping up the cum that’s slowly dribbling out of Megumi’s used, red hole. The sight makes his dick twitch. He distracts himself by reflecting a little (nutting makes him reflective, okay).
Especially when he just had the Best. Sex. Ever.
Except —
Post-nut clarity slams into him like a fully loaded freight train as Yuuji’s mind races and he attempts to pull oxygen back into his lungs. Those weird possessive words…what the fuck was that? He…he was totally just saying it in the heat of the moment, right? Like when he was still fucking girls, he’d say some crazy shit like “I’m gonna fuck a baby in you” even though they both knew he was wearing a condom.
Dick brain can be absolutely wildin’ and Yuuji’s already prone to talking without thinking. So it stands to reason that he’d say that shit to Megumi, but not actually mean any of it.
Hmmm.
He frowns and then nods decisively. Yeah. That’s exactly what it was. He was just overcome with dick brain and it didn’t help that there was practically no blood up there, so honestly, he didn’t even really know what he was saying. He cannot be held accountable for the things he says in the heat of the moment to be honest. That’s just irresponsible for everyone involved.
He gives Megumi’s cute tushy a light slap once he’s done cleaning him up and Megumi lets out a surprised yelp which Yuuji snickers at. But afterwards, they get dressed quietly, Megumi seemingly none the wiser to Yuuji’s inner turmoil.
They part ways and that’s that.
Todo has a birthday bash at their frat house a few weeks later. In between that time, he and Megumi have met up a few times.
One time, before a game, Megumi manages to corner Yuuji alone in the change rooms. Yuuji’s pulling his shirt over his head when he spots Megumi walking towards him, hips swaying side to side while in his cheer uniform. Yuuji’s fixated on those damn hips and before he knows it, Megumi’s close, so close their lips almost brush.
He grasps the front of Yuuji’s football top with the tips of his fingers, leans in next to Yuuji’s ear and whispers, “If you play well today, I’ll let you fuck me while I’m in my uniform.”
Of course Yuuji plays well, he leads the team in touchdowns and after the game, when everyone’s showered and left, he has Megumi’s face pressed against his locker door, skirt flipped up and pounding into his hole before he comes so hard inside Megumi, his sight turns white.
They continue hanging out between then and Todo’s party; always at Megumi’s expensive apartment and most of the time, they end up having sex. Something weird happens between that and Todo’s party. While the sex is good — great, even — he always ends up leaving Megumi’s apartment unsatisfied. (At some point, he comes to the realisation that Megumi never asks or offers him to stay over and to be honest, fair? But also, Yuuji has some unidentifiable feelings about that.)
It’s not dissatisfaction at the sex or anything. Megumi’s a freak in the sheets and lets Yuuji drill him so hard into the mattress, he’s surprised the foam hasn’t moulded itself to the shape of Megumi. It’s something else — more emotional? Maybe? Yuuji’s not sure. There’s just a hollowness that blooms afterwards that makes him feel wobbly and misaligned. Not one to dwell on things that don’t make sense to him, Yuuji promptly buries those feelings each time they come up.
It all comes barrelling up again when he spots Megumi at Todo’s party because first, he hadn’t expected him to attend. Second, Megumi looks like a god-damn dream. A sheer crop top stretches across his torso, exposing his abdomen and chest. The tops paired with mid-waist cargo pants and chunky white sneakers. Megumi looks cool.
They make eye contact across the room and nod once to acknowledge each other because no, no one actually knows they’re boning each other or that they’re actually really close friends outside of the bedroom. It’s unspoken and Yuuji doesn’t know how they reached that agreement but it works for them and that’s all that really matters.
Megumi’s here with the other cheerleaders on his team and the group beelines for the drinks table. He watches Megumi follow along and silently, he considers how he’s probably going to keep an eye on Megumi from afar tonight in case he gets too drunk and someone decides to be a creep or something. He doesn’t get the impression his cheer friends will look out for him that way if that time at the nightclub is anything to go by.
He loses track of Megumi after hour two of being at the party. No idea how it happens because one second he’s got eyes on Megumi taking sambuca shots with the girls and the next he’s gone. Poof. Nowhere to be seen. So Yuuji excuses himself from his friends and wanders the frat house starting from the back door, in search of Megumi. It’s not until he reaches the lounge room turned dance floor that he spots the familiar head of spikey sea urchin hair.
There’s a brief moment of relief until he registers what he sees: Megumi’s face flushed from alcohol, bangs slightly sweaty and sticking to his forehead, eyes closed and rosy lips parted as his hips move to the rhythm of the music. That in itself isn’t the problem; Megumi looks good like that — looks good moving his body like that,
No, the problem is that his hands are raised behind him, buried in the head of some red-headed skeezy looking mole rat, Megumi’s head thrown back and resting on their right shoulder. Said mole rat has his hands wrapped around Megumi’s waist and has pulled Megumi flush against his front. Megumi looks like he’s having the time of his life, greatly enjoying dancing to the slow hip hop beats as he gyrates his ass against this guy. The guy starts to tilt his head down, down, down until his lips are brushing against Megumi’s exposed pale neck and —
A burning fury roars its ugly head inside of Yuuji because who the hell does this guy think he is. The guy’s clearly taking advantage of a drunk Megumi, there’s no way he’d act like this or want some random feeling him up if he were sober.
Yuuji doesn’t even have to think twice — he storms over, the crowd parting like Moses with the Red Sea and wrenches the guy away from Megumi, gripping his shoulder and shoving him back.
“Get your hands away from him,” Yuuji growls, his teeth gritted and eyebrows drawn into a furious frown.
Stumbling from the sudden loss of support, Yuuji catches him by looping an arm around his waist. Megumi turns around, confused and it only takes a second before Megumi clocks that it’s Yuuji. They both turn to look Yuuji’s teammate, who must know who Yuuji is because he apologizes before scampering away.
“Didn’t know you were here,” Megumi slurs, wrapping his arms around Yuuji’s neck and tilting his head back to look Yuuji in the eye, exposing the pale expanse of his neck, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.
“Well I’m here now,” Yuuji replies, and he thinks that was pretty damn smooth if he’s gotta say so himself.
Arms still wrapped around Megumi’s small waist, he feels infinitely better, like a weight’s been lifted off his shoulders. Megumi beams a smile at him and Yuuji’s heart blooms with warmth — it’s always a treat to have a Megumi-smile directed at him. He throws his own wide grin back at Megumi, his fingertips skirting down the surface of Megumi’s spine till he reaches the bare skin of his lower back.
Megumi shivers and closes his eyes, tilting his head back, a small smile on his beautiful face as his hips sway from side to side before spinning around. His ass presses against Yuuji’s crotch and Yuuji splays his hand across Megumi’s smooth abdomen.
Megumi lays his head against Yuuji’s shoulder and all feels right in the world again. He breathes in deep, taking in that faint scent of jasmine that’s so Megumi. Yuuji lets his head fall forward, burying his nose in the depths of Megumi’s throat, gently scraping his teeth against the flesh. He feels the vibrations of Megumi’s moan and laves his tongue across the same spot, the salty sweet taste of Megumi’s sweet bursting on his tongue. All the while, Megumi’s hips never stop moving to the beat of the music, his hips rhythmically swaying and brushing his ass across Yuuji’s now half-hard dick.
Gentle pleasure thrums through Yuuji’s bloodstream, warm and enticing. They spend the rest of the night locked in the same position, in their own little world until Megumi decides he’s had enough and turns back around to grab Yuuji’s hand, bringing Yuuji back to his apartment.
After that night at the party, Yuuji finds himself actively searching for Megumi more and more. It’s no longer just casually bumping into each other like it was before earlier in the semester.
Like during his football games, when they run onto the field, the first person he spots is always Megumi amongst the cheer squad. Or at parties, despite knowing Megumi likely won’t be in attendance, he’ll automatically try to seek out that familiar spiky head of hair, only to be disappointed when it doesn’t appear.
Yuuji wonders when Megumi became such a good friend of his, when he became such a centrepiece within his life. Everything just feels lighter — easier — when he’s around Megumi. His presence is soothing; makes him momentarily forget all the pressure he’s under day in, day out with being the University’s football star, having to maintain his grades and all of the social expectations that come with his position.
When he’s with Megumi, it feels like he doesn’t have to abide by some strict rules that tells him to act a certain way, to live up to a name he didn’t choose for himself. He can simply exist as he is — as who he is — and with Megumi, that’s enough.
Yuuji all but skips to Megumi’s apartment after practice, knowing full well that Megumi has today off and it’s too late in the day for him to do any homework. He’d intended to work off the adrenaline from a stellar practise session by taking Megumi to pound town and with an excited pep in his step, he unlocks Megumi’s apartment door (Megumi had given him a key card a few weeks back). He announces his arrival with a holler.
“Meguminnnnnn, you ready for some lovin — Megumi?”
The sweep of his eyes across Megumi’s large bedroom shows that it’s devoid of Megumi.
Until Yuuji hears a tiny sniffle coming from the mountain of blankets on Megumi’s bed. The mountain shifts and the blankets are flipped over, uncovering a red eyed, disheveled-looking Megumi.
“Sorry Yuuji — ,”
Yuuji practically leaps into Megumi’s bed, the sight of Megumi tightening his chest to an unbearable degree and immediately cups Megumi’s face in his palms. His thumbs swipe gently across Megumi’s soft, warm cheeks as tears fall. “Baby, baby. What’s wrong?”
It’s worrying because Megumi’s never been one to show much of anything. For all that they’ve slept together, he doesn’t actually know much about Megumi, who’s revealed startling little about himself. Yuuji knows what he’s studying, knows that he has adoptive parents, works at a cafe in his free time and doesn’t really have any close friends.
He crosses his legs so he can manoeuvre Megumi into his lap comfortably, his right arm wrapping around Megumi’s slim waist and using his left hand to brush stray strands of tear soaked hair away from Megumi’s face. All he’s wearing is Yuuji’s university hoodie that sits oversized on him, the sleeves almost covering his hands and giving him sweater paws. He looks so soft with his ruddy, tear-soaked cheeks and mussed up hair.
Megumi hiccups, his shoulders shaking as he attempts to hold in his sobs. “I’m just really overwhelmed right now juggling school and cheer. I had a pop quiz this morning that I’m pretty sure I failed and then I think I landed wrong during training today and my ankle h-hurts.”
He devolves into uncontrollable sobs, but doesn’t make a sound. His body trembles in Yuuji’s hold and Megumi feels so incredibly small and vulnerable. Even the bare calf Yuuji’s running his hand up and down; he’d never taken stock of just how small Megumi really is compared to him, so sure he’d be able to wrap his fingers around Megumi’s ankle.
Yuuji gently rocks Megumi back and forth, whispering sweet nothings into his ear in an attempt to soothe him. “Shh, s’okay baby, I’ve got you. Can you match your breath with me?”
Gradually, Yuuji gets Megumi’s breath slow and even, his sobs subsiding to quiet, shakey breaths. There’s a comfortable silence, just the sounds of Megumi breathing in and out, still struggling to school his breath.
“S-Sorry Yu-Yuuji, I know why you came here — just give me a sec to wash my face and — “
“Hey, woah. Megs, don’t worry about that right now. Just wanna make sure you’re okay,” Yuuji says, appalled and a little offended Megumi’s thinking about that right now. “You said you fell on your ankle funny during training yeah? Can I take a look?”
“‘Kay,” Megumi mumbles as he stares up at Yuuji, eyes watery and green and lovely, with an eternal depth that Yuuji would journey through in an instant.
He presses a kiss to Megumi’s temple, soft and careful, then shifts Megumi so he’s sitting with his back to the wall and legs extended. Sliding off the bed, Yuuji kneels on the floor at the edge of Megumi’s bed. Megumi’s leggings cover his ankle, so he gently peels it back and the ankle looks a little swollen. He grabs one of Megumi’s pillow, folds it in half and rests Megumi’s injured ankle over it. From his experience as an athlete, it’ll be a little inconvenient for Megumi but his ankle should be healed in no time.
Now that it’s elevated, all Megumi’s ankle needs is some ice. He goes to stand to grab some ice from Megumi’s kitchen and Megumi, panicked and wide eyed asks, “Where are you going?”
His eyebrows are pulled together cutely and an arm reaches out towards Yuuji.
Yuuji takes the hand and kisses each knuckle. “Relax babe, you’ve got a small sprain and I’m just going to grab some ice. Keep your ankle elevated while I’m gone okay?”
Megumi’s lips are parted, a strange look on his face but he nods, mutely at Yuuji. Yuuji throws a reassuring grin at Megumi and dashes out of his room to the kitchen.
While he’s grabbing a stack of paper towels to wrap the ice in, he hums a casual tune. Megumi has one of those fancy fridges that dispenses ice. As he’s squeezing the ice cubes out, he hears two sets footsteps make their way down the halfway
“Well, well, well. Who do we have here?” a man with a mop of white hair and piercing blue eyes stare down at him. A man with long black hair and a serene expression stands behind him.
Yuuji is immediately defensive, seeing as there’s two people he’s never seen in his life are in Megumi’s apartment. He squares up his shoulders and asks scathingly, “Who the hell are you and why you are in Megumi’s apartment?”
“Megumi?” the strange man exclaims delightedly. “Suguru, it seems our ‘Gumi has been keeping secrets from us.”
“Satoru,” the man with the long black hair purrs. “You know Megumi’s always been secretive.”
The white haired stranger stretches a hand out. “Gojo Satoru, and you are?”
Gojo . The name rings an all too familiar bell.
“Oh,” Yuuji says dumbly. “Are you Megumi’s sugar daddy?” he asks, suddenly feeling very small.
There’s a beat of silence before both men bowl over laughing hysterically. Yuuji feels offended at their response. He frowns. “Care to explain what’s so fuckin’ funny?”
“Oh god, I wish Megumi were here to hear this. He’d be mortified,” Gojo says to the man named Suguru. He turns back to Yuuji, amused expression still on his face. “Not sugar daddy, but you’re right on the daddy front. Suguru and I are his adoptive parents,” he says proudly, casually slinging an arm around Suguru’s shoulders.
“Oh, that makes a lot more sense.” He straightens up, the desire to impress them suddenly bubbling up inside him. They are Megumi’s parents after all.
“That is gold, I can’t wait to tell Megumi,” Gojo goads, his eyes showing just how delighted he is. “So, what are you doing here.”
“Well, I came over to see Megumi and he’s not doing well,” Yuuji looks down at the ice pack in his hands that’s slowly melting in his warm hands.
‘Oh aren’t you a good little boyfriend,” Gojo coos, wiggling a finger in his direction.
“I’m not his boyfriend – just a friend that you know…,” he says awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head with his hand. “I’m straight.
And when he says that, something like confusion and understanding flashes over Megumi’s parent’s faces. “Ahh, so it’s like that then. You’re straight, rightio,” then pats Yuuji’s shoulder a little condescendingly.
“Er, right. Yeah, should probably get back to Megumi,” he says and waves awkwardly with a lacklustre energy.
“We’ll leave the two of you to it then, we just wanted to check he was okay. But it seems his friend has it handled,” Suguru says and practically drags a huffing Gojo to the front door.
Yuuji huffs a laugh to himself on his way back to Megumi’s bedroom. Him and Megumi? Dating? That’d be crazy.
Right?
Right. So crazy.
But then Yuuji thinks and thinks some more, looks down at the makeshift ice pack he put together for Megumi, thinks about Megumi’s hair messy with sleep, thinks about how natural it is to call Megumi baby even when they’re not having sex, thinks about the disappointment he feels and the emptiness inside when he’s not around Megumi.
It comes to him then, that the idea of dating Megumi isn’t so crazy anymore.
Maybe he’s a little bit gay.
Notes:
Let me know if you loved it or hated it in the comments :)
Chapter 3: i'm afraid i won't get out alive
Summary:
Megumi is in trouble when he realises things might not be so casual.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
This is bad. This is so bad. And weird, Megumi thinks as Yuuji presses a kiss to his sprained ankle then follows up the sweet gesture by placing his makeshift ice pack over it. It was bad the moment he decided to strike up a situationship with a straight dude because he knows, he knows how this ends.
He’s a little used to it by now, hailing from the small town he did. That was basically all of high school. Straight guys who were a little curious and always looking to experiment . They’d sweet talk him and press gentle touches against his skin, then avoided eye contact in the hallway pretending they didn’t have their dick up Megumi’s ass the previous night.
When he got to college, he swore he wouldn’t entertain them anymore. He was done being an experiment. And while he didn’t entertain straight guys anymore, his romantic life still consisted only of both sober and drunken one night stands. Or dates that didn’t go anywhere, simply because he just never clicked with any of them.
He still slept with most of them though because, basically, Megumi was a thirsty bitch.
Further proven when Itadori Yuuji came along and he broke his ‘no straight dudes’ promise to himself. Mostly because he was truly just curious if Yuuji really did have a dick reminiscent of a soda can. (It’s not something he needed to confirm himself because it’s what a third of the girls on his team claimed but, well, Megumi is an aforementioned thirsty bitch.)
And after confirming that yes, Itadori Yuuji had a big fucking dick, Megumi should’ve stopped at that. But his tiny amoeba brain that lit up at ‘big fat cock!’ kept going back for more, because he was so fucking down bad for Itadori Yuuji.
(Neon lights in his brain beamed ‘Itadori Yuuji’s Cock <3’)
Literally who wouldn’t be though. Anyone who says they wouldn’t immediately bend over for Itadori Yuuji sits on a throne of lies. So, Megumi would keep taking as long as Yuuji kept giving. Which hadn’t really been a problem until the night Megumi went out to a club and drunk dialled Yuuji.
See, Megumi had a plan because he knew his self control was non-existent and practically verged on addiction at this point. So, he did what he did best and concocted a little self sabotage that he was sure to work. He’d call Yuuji in the middle of the night, an absolute mess and Yuuji would be so infinitesimally put off by Megumi’s behaviour that he’d tell Megumi to fuck off. Maybe he’d even be on a date or in the middle of fucking a girl and Megumi’s interruption made Yuuji remind him that Yuuji wasn’t his fucking boyfriend and that Megumi’s being a grade A clinger.
He hoped that Yuuji would be a total asshole about it and Megumi would have no choice but to hate him for it. But no. Yuuji had to be sweet about it. Had to follow through that he’d pick him up and take him home. Had to look at him with unbearably fond eyes when they sat in his car. Had to tuck him into bed and fall asleep with his huge quarterback arms engulfing his entire body. Then bought him breakfast the next day, insisting that he eat something instead of just drinking black coffee, concern apparent in his voice.
He’d made Megumi get a ham and cheese toastie along with his black coffee, Megumi picking at it as Yuuji poured an ungodly amount of syrup onto his ginormous stack of pancakes, digging into the pile like a starved wolf. Sunlight had filtered through the bayside windows of the cafe from where they sat. When Yuuji looked up at him, Megumi’s heart had stuttered, his breath hitching as Yuuji directed a picture-worthy smile at him and urged him to eat.
So stupidly handsome and charming.
I’ve made a huge mistake , Megumi thinks as he watches Yuuji tenderly wrap his sprained ankle. The dull reminder of the nature of their relationship aches at the back of his head. Yuuji would get bored of him soon and this arrangement would dissolve.
The problem was he’d tripped and fallen, right over a crack in the concrete of his heart. Scrapes, cuts and bruises littering the palm of his hands and knees and left with a bloody gash in his heart because he was in goddamn like with the idiot. He actually likes the idiot who, at the beginning of their relationship, had the most absurd ideas about homosexuality.
Whatever. He’ll just have to enjoy it while he can, and hope his bruises and cuts will, given enough time, heal on their own.
Yuuji’s different tonight. It throws Megumi off momentarily. It’s been twenty minutes and Yuuji’s cock isn’t buried deep inside him, his black jeans still around his waist for some reason. All the other times that they’ve fucked had been the same; a quick prep (or Megumi would prep himself earlier on) and then Megumi would be on his hands and knees or lying on his stomach with Yuuji pounding into him. Using him like a toy and god, yeah, Megumi was such a slut because he loved it that way.
Yuuji’s hands are gripping his hips so hard they’d leave a bruise, the slapping of his pelvis against Megumi’s ass cheeks and grunts of pleasure the only sounds that would be heard in Megumi’s room.
Which was another thing that was different this time. Aside from the first time, every time they met up, it was at Megumi’s because there was an unspoken agreement that Yuuji’s frat bros would find it suspicious and neither one of them wanted to be caught. Well, Megumi couldn’t care less but he figured Yuuji would. He was straight after all.
(Megumi’s well aware of how probably not-straight Yuuji is but his opinion doesn’t matter. That was for Yuuji to figure out. He’s trying to learn how to go with the flow and not think about it too hard. It just so happened going with the flow benefited him greatly and he was getting great dick every other night.)
Anyway, tonight Yuuji was taking his sweet ass time. He’s been three fingers deep for the last ten minutes and comes dangerously close to attaching his mouth to Megumi’s cock. Megumi hasn’t even come close to touching Yuuji yet this entire time and it’s so, so weird. Not that he’s not enjoying it, but it’d been pretty clear the other times that the main purpose of their other sessions was to get Yuuji off (which in turn gets Megumi off, but that’s not the point).
Then he does another completely unexpected thing; Yuuji starts kissing his hip bones, his stomach, his ribs. Licks and sucks and bites into Megumi’s skin and Megumi’s gonna lose his fucking mind because it’s so nice. He’s never really been treated so tenderly before by someone who’s supposed to just fuck him into the mattress and dip. He’s also never had such a long ongoing arrangement with someone else before either. So it’s entirely new territory for Megumi to feel things towards someone he was sleeping with and oh god —
If Yuuji doesn’t stop acting like this, Megumi might actually fall in love with him.
As much as Megumi seems averse to touch — withdrawn from everyone — he was actually pretty touch-starved, dehydrated of real affection as a result of emotionally distancing himself from even his own family. Abandonment issues does that to you he guesses.
And when he got to college, he didn’t know how to let anyone in or form anything meaningful. Then Itadori Yuuji pops up outta the blue, accepts a blowjob from Megumi, and the rest is history. They’re heading to dangerous territory, Megumi’s teetering the edge of a cliff like an adrenaline junkie with no ropes to catch him if he falls.
He’s brought back to reality when Yuuji nips at his inner thigh, his calloused palms splayed over the backs of Megumi’s thighs and spreading his legs apart. Megumi hisses at the stinging sensation brought on by Yuuji’s teeth. Yuuji presses a soft kiss to the spot he bit, lapping at the area with his wet tongue.
“Yuuji, come on, what’re you waiting f-for?” Megumi whines, feeling especially vulnerable as he’s spread open and out, completely naked, while Yuuji still has his jeans on.
“Relax babe, I’ve got you,” he says, then shocks a yelp out of Megumi, his brain short circuiting as Yuuji’s tongue flicks once, twice, three times around the head of Megumi’s cock before sucking the tip into his hot, wet mouth.
“N-no, no, you don’t have to do that!” Megumi says, attempting to push Yuuji’s head away and close his legs.
Yuuji immediately detaches his mouth and looks up at Megumi with a concerned frown, his eyes big and worried. “Does it not feel good?”
“It-It does but like, you don’t have to do that!” Megumi insists, still trying to close his legs.
“If it feels good, let me keep going,” Yuuji says, gently, his eyes almost pleading.
“O-okay, if-if you’re sure,” Megumi whispers, his legs slowly falling open once again.
“Mhmm,” Yuuji hums before licking a stripe up the underside of Megumi’s pink cock, and even from that slight stimulation, his cock jumps. Gods he was so down bad for Itadori Yuuji.
He throws an arm over his eyes and releases a shuddering breath into the crook of his elbow. Is this real? This is happening, right? It’s not just a wet dream? Itadori Yuuji is sucking him off right now. He subtly pinches his side with his other hand and — yep this is definitely real.
Itadori Yuuji’s mouth is currently wrapped around his dick, tongue swirling around the girth of it and slowly bobbing his head up and down. When’s the last time he’s been blown? Megumi can’t even remember — isn’t able to remember, especially when Yuuji tongues at his slit like that. When did he learn to do that?
Megumi moans and can’t help but buck his hips, thrusting deep into Yuuji’s throat who gags a little, his throat tightening.
“Ahh, fuck, sorry,” Megumi bites out.
Yuuji pulls off his dick with a wet sound. “Don’t be. It’s hot.”
Megumi releases a shaky sigh as Yuuji goes back to bobbing his head up and down his cock, tongue swirling and wrapping this way and that. It’s fireworks in his stomach and then Yuuji prods at his rim with three fingers before sliding inside and curling them up and Megumi explodes.
He tries — by the Gods he tries to pull Yuuji off his cock when he comes but the bastard latches on and swallows him down as his body jerks and he spills his cum in Yuuji’s mouth. “Oh fu-fuck Yuuji, what the fuck,” he says when his body finally calms down.
Yuuji pulls off his cock, thumbs rubbing circles on his hips and concern on his face. “Sorry, did you not like that?
“NO — I mean no, I did. Like that. A lot,” he responds, painfully aware that his cheeks are probably bright red and flushed.
Yuuji gives him a wolfish grin. “Well you’re going to like the next part a lot,” he says as he rolls an XL condom over his huge fucking dick.
Megumi swallows thickly, already woozy from the anticipation of the burn. No amount of prep can prepare him for the way Yuuji’s cock feels as he enters him. He has enough brain cells to remember to roll over onto his stomach so they can fuck in the usual position but as he begins to turn, Yuuji’s hand grabs his hips. “Don’t, I wanna see you when I fuck your brains out tonight.”
Nodding weakly, Megumi returns to lie on his back and Yuuji slides a pillow under his lower back. God fucking dammnit this doesn’t bode well at all for Megumi. The pesky feelings in his heart resurface, especially as Yuuji stares down at him with lust-filled violet eyes as he strokes his cock with extra lube.
“Gonna fuck you so good, baby.”
And that’s another thing, Megumi’s brain screams. The pet names. The ’baby’ and ‘sweetheart.’ What the fuck is that?
He doesn’t have time to linger on that because then Yuuji’s giant coke can dick starts entering him, popping past that first ring of muscle that always makes Megumi choke. The initial burn from the stretch always feels incredible and his eyes roll to the back of his head as Yuuji continues inching himself inside.
Just before he bottoms out, he rolls his hips and the head of his cock brushes against Megumi’s prostate and Megumi lets out a gurgled moan that, in his opinion, makes him sound like he’s dying from choking on his own blood.
“God, love the sounds you make sweetheart,” Yuuji says. “Wanna keep hearing you, want the whole house to know I’m fucking you good baby.”
No seriously, Megumi thinks. What the fuck. He thought this thing they had was a discreet thing but also, that’s kinda hot. So Megumi shrugs it off and doesn’t hold back when Yuuji slides his thick, wet cock in and out of him.
Yuuji’s braced above him, bulging biceps caging his head as he laves sloppy wet kisses all over Megumi’s neck, mouthing at his throat as he thrusts slowly and Megumi can’t help but cant his hips up with each of Yuuji’s thrusts.
“You’re so fucking good Megumi, baby, hole’s just sucking me in, taking me so well, nnnnngh,” Yuuji mouths into his neck with one particularly hard thrust that makes Megumi yelp, his blunt fingernails digging into Yuuji’s shoulders as he finds something to hold onto.
Yuuji shimmies himself up, spreads Megumi’s thighs with the crooks of his arms and thank gods he’s a cheerleader because he’s practically forced into the splits.
The new angle has Yuuji reaching deeper, making Megumi see stars with each thrust. “Ngghhh Yuuji, you’re so haaa deep,” Megumi moans because he knows Yuuji likes it when Megumi talks just as dirty to him.
“Yeah baby? You like it when I fuck you like this? Fuck you this deep?”
He places his large palm over Megumi’s stomach, presses down gently as he continues to thrust in and out. “Feel that baby? Fuck you feel so good inside.”
Megumi groans when he feels the bulge of Yuuji’s cock, the warmth of Yuuji’s hand pressing his cock right over Megumi’s prostate with each thrust sends him over the edge.
“Oh fuck, oh yes. Yuuji, I’m co - coming,” he screams.
It only urges Yuuji to fuck him harder, faster, deeper. “Yeah baby, come on, come for daddy.”
And oh, okay, that unlocks something in Megumi’s lizard brain and he comes — hard. It spurts over his stomach and with how he’s positioned, some of it lands on his chin and bottom lip.
Yuuji slows his thrusts but bends down to lick the cum off Megumi’s face. “Taste so good, baby.”
Megumi shivers from the warm, wet tongue on his face. He’s overstimulated but he wants Yuuji to come, too. His tongue flicks out to meet Yuuji’s and they start kissing as Yuuji continues his thrusts. “Come in me, Yuuji,” he moans into Yuuji’s mouth.
“Fuck baby, you sure? Not hurting you?”
Yeah it kinda hurts. But in a good way? Also, why does Yuuji care? It’s just been about getting Yuuji off most times so what’s changed. Nothing, as far as Megumi’s concerned. And he kinda needs to serve his purpose tonight, so — “No, please, want it, want your cum in me, please, please, please,” he says, though it’s kinda redundant since Yuuji has a condom on.
“Shit, you’re perfect, so good to me,” Yuuji says, quickening the pace of his thrusts again.
Megumi’s gasping from the overstimulation, cock aching from it and his nerves on fire, holding out until Yuuji’s sent over the edge.
Yuuji’s pressed chest to chest with Megumi, his hips drawn so close his knees touch the backs of Megumi’s thighs as he continues to piston his cock, the obscene squelch of lube muted by the muffled sound of Yuuji whining ‘unngh baby, baby, so good, god babe, you’re so fucking sexy, love fucking you,” as he mouths at Megumi’s exposed neck.
He keeps thrusting hard into Megumi, the sound of skin slapping so obscene Megumi feels himself getting hard again. Megumi clutches at Yuuji’s muscled back, his fingernails digging so hard there’s going to no doubt be crescent shaped marks on Yuuji’s skin. They’re pressed so closely together that Megumi’s oversensitive cock rubs against Yuuji’s washboard abs and it’s so painfully good. “Oh fuck, Y-Yuuji, unngh, ‘m gonna come ‘gain,” he whimpers breathlessly.
“Yeah? Come with me baby, wanna see you come with me,” Yuuji says, pushing himself up so he can see Megumi’s face.
There’s droplets of sweat trickling down Yuuji’s temple and it’s so fucking sexy, Megumi wants to lick it up. Instead, Yuuji drops his mouth against Megumi’s, kissing him open mouthed and dirty while pounding into Megumi relentlessly.
Yuuji pumps himself extra hard, once, twice, three times, wet slaps echoing in the room before stilling, his eyes half lidded yet boring into Megumi’s. He takes Megumi in hand and pumps him and it doesn’t take much, just a few strokes and Megumi’s screaming Yuuji’s name, coming dry.
“Holy fuck,” Yuuji says, rolling off of Megumi. “That was fuckin’ hectic, good job,” and holds out his palm for a high five as if it was a joint effort.
Megumi, fuck drunk and unable to think properly, high fives Yuuji and without thinking, says, “I don’t think I’ve ever come dry before.”
For some reason, this gets Yuuji excited who bounces up and holds half his body over Megumi. “So I was the first?” he asks excitedly.
“Uhhhh, yeah? I think so.”
“Oh yeah! Damn, that’s awesome. At least I have that.”
“What do you mean?” Megumi says, slurring his words a little as he feels himself drifting off to sleep.
“Aww, tired my spikey lil sea urchin?”
“Mmmm, ‘m not a sea urchin,” he says, frowning with his eyes closed.
He hears Yuuji chuckle and then his eyes fling open as he’s scooped from the bed, bridal style, by Yuuji. Megumi yelps. “What the hell, Yuuji?!”
“Shower first, then sleep. I’m being responsible here — another first, just for you!”
With no energy to fight, he just sighs and curls his arms around Yuuji’s neck as he walks them to his ensuite. Yuuji keeps him in his lap as he turns on the taps and starts filling up the bathtub.
“I thought we were taking a shower.”
“I don’t think you can stand right now, sunshine.”
Megumi grumbles, unable to really formulate an argument. His body feels like jelly and his brain is mush. He’s also learned to just let Yuuji do what he wants sometimes because there’s no changing his mind. A bath also sounds heavenly right now.
He closes his eyes, arms still linked around Yuuji’s neck with his head resting in the crook of Yuuji’s shoulder. He listens to the water filling the bathtub and Yuuji humming to the tune of Darude’s Sandstorm for some reason and feels totally lax. It’s so domestic and his chest tightens. Not for the first time, he wonders what the fuckin’ hell he thinks he’s doing.
Well, he knows what he’s doing — he’s deluding himself into thinking they’re something more than they really are, like he’s about to step into the eye of a storm if he continues dwelling on the domesticity.
His thoughts are thankfully interrupted by the sound of the taps turning off and Yuuji standing back up to enter the bathtub. He settles Megumi between his legs with Megumi’s back against his chest.
“Ahhhhh, this is nice,” Yuuji exhales.
“Mmm, yeah it is.” The hot water soothes his aching muscles and hole and Yuuji’s big arms are wrapped around him as he rests his head against Yuuji’s shoulder.
“Have you ever taken a bath with someone else before?”
Megumi gently shakes his head — feels his spikes swaying as he does so. His body is jolted as Yuuji fist pumps and shouts a “Yes! Another one!”
“Yuuji! Too loud,” Megumi whines.
“Oops, sorry,” he says, and presses a kiss to Megumi’s temple.
Megumi’s too tired to question why Yuuji’s so obsessed with being the first to do things with him — it’s probably just another one of his eccentricities. He can be a little whimsical like that.
After a little while of sitting in the tub, Yuuji reaches behind him and he hears the pump of a bottle.
“I’m too tired to go another round,” Megumi sighs. He’d fuck Yuuji again if he could but he really can barely keep his eyes open. Maybe Yuuji’s into that though and it is kinda hot though — Megumi limp like a rag doll as Yuuji uses his body.
“Huh? I’m washing you down,” he replies, as he starts lathering Megumi’s body with soap.
“Oh.”
It’s gentle, the way he rubs the soap into Megumi’s skin, tender circles as the soap foams up and Yuuji continues humming his stupid song.
“Okay sweetheart, you’re all done. Can you get up so I can do myself?”
Megumi groans like a brat and sits up. He turns to face Yuuji and watches as Yuuji pumps some soap into his hands, noticing something that wakes him up instantly.
“Yuuji! Did you wash me with your nasty 3-in-1?”
Yuuji feigns offence. “How dare you? Linda has been with me all through high school and college. She’s efficient.”
“Linda? Ugh whatever, Yuuji that’s gross,” Megumi says, defeated, and flicks some water towards him.
“Sweetheart, you don’t want to start this,” he warns. The look Yuuji gives is too playful for how fucked out he is so he just sits there and pouts, swishing the water between his fingers, knees drawn up to his chest.
It’s quiet as Yuuji washes himself save for the occasional sound of splashing water. How long till Yuuji’s over his experiment and ends this, he wonders. How much longer does he have these moments with him till it’s over? Yuuji doesn’t treat him like a tool to explore his sexuality, especially not lately and that’s been such a strange adjustment.
But strange isn’t bad and it’s actually been nice to be treated like a person. He didn’t think his past experiences had any particular effect on him until he met Yuuji. With Yuuji came the realisation that the lingering hollowness after every hook up was really the ugly feeling of being used, and that his mind shouldn’t feel separated from his body as if he was watching himself from a top down view after sex — all things that he’d just accepted as normal.
He wonders if it’s just a Yuuji thing or if he’s just been settling for less than he deserves. Or maybe what he deserves is Yuuji. Only his mind rejects that notion as soon as it pops into his brain because that wouldn’t make any sense. There’s also no lifetime where that would be a reality — they’re leagues apart and again, Yuuji’s literally just a friend with benefits, he just so happens to be a nice one.
It’s gonna really suck when Yuuji decides to end things. Megumi lets out a shuddering breath, quiet as a mouse so Yuuji doesn’t catch on and the unwelcome sting of tears threaten to fall from his eyes. He scoops up some water with his palms and pretends to wash his face in an effort to hide some stray tears that fall.
Thankfully, he’s pulled out of his spiral as Yuuji finishes washing up, pulling on his hand to get him to stand. They stand in silence, Yuuji smiling down at him as he turns on the shower to quickly rinse the remaining suds off their bodies, Yuuji’s hands skimming over his back and butt cheeks like it’s nothing, like it’s just something they do for each other.
There’s no intention behind it and Megumi just — his chest aches. He really has to end this before he gets in too deep. But it’s so hard to pull himself away when Yuuji doesn’t just hand him a towel — he actually dries Megumi himself, gently draping the towel over Megumi’s shoulder and smiling proudly to himself.
It’s so hard when Yuuji grabs his hand to lead him to his bed, guiding him under the covers, and then pressing his broad, muscular chest against Megumi’s bare back and draping his arm over Megumi’s waist, tugging him close.
It’s so hard when Yuuji whispers, “G’night sweetheart,” and presses a light kiss to his temple before settling in behind him.
Megumi is so utterly fucked.
It’s a Saturday night and Yuuji somehow manages to convince him to attend one of his teammates' birthday party. It’s a black light party so he figures everything will be dark if him and Yuuji’s hands start to wander and that’s exactly what Yuuji has planned. Nobody will be able to see if they’re handsy with each other and no that doesn’t make Megumi’s heart twist at all, he lies to himself.
Yuuji picks him up and drives with a hand on Megumi's thigh. When he exits Yuuji’s Audi, a cold breeze curls towards him and he shivers. Large, warm arms wrap around his waist and he startles, turning to the side and looking up at Yuuji.
“What’re you doing?”
“Hm?” Yuuji says, a quizzical look on his face. “Nothing?”
Does Yuuji really not see what’s wrong with this picture or is he just that dumb? Megumi tries to subtly squirm out of Yuuji’s grip but it only causes Yuuji to grip him tighter, so he gives up. They start walking into the party with one of Yuuji’s arms slung around his waist.
He thanks God that whoever idiot’s this party is, decided with the black light theme because he’s sure that entering with Itadori Yuuji’s arm around your waist would become the talk of the party. Megumi would probably die if that happened.
Once they’re inside, Yuuji’s instantly snatched away by one of his football bros and shouts over his shoulder to ‘stay put and he’ll find him in a second.’
Megumi lasts exactly one minute before he decides this whole situation is annoying as fuck because Yuuji was the one who was adamant that he come to the party with him and now Yuuji has ditched him. So he does the next best thing to preoccupy his time: he beelines for the punch bowl to down whatever garbage has been mixed up.
It’s dark and smoky throughout the house and Megumi has to shoulder his way through the crowd. The music is a heavy bass that’s already sparking the beginnings of a headache. Once he reaches the punch bowl, he doesn’t hesitate to grab a cup and pour two ladles of the punch, giving it a sniff and downing it in one go. It’s tropical tasting, with bits of pineapple and orange and the bitter tang of cheap alcohol.
This’ll do, Megumi thinks and grabs another cup full of free alcohol. He makes his way through the house in search of Yuuji, only to find him in the middle of a beer pong game with three other dudes. It’s near impossible to see anything besides the glowing white of the insides of the cups as well as the ball. They’re playing half blind and it’s so stupid that Megumi can’t help but chortle.
He continues nursing the cup of fruity punch, watching Yuuji and his friend play beer pong. They chest bump each other every time they get the ball in the cup. Eventually, they win, because of course Yuuji does and a swarm of girls gather round them to congratulate them and not so subtly swoon at them. Yuuji flexes his biceps and barks out a laugh. The girls around him giggle and brush against his arms, pressing their bodies against him.
Yuuji starts to — well, Yuuji starts to look overwhelmed and starts backing away from them, having lowered his arms and Megumi sees the whites of his eyes darting around the room, as if in search of something. Something nips at the corners of Megumi’s chest when he sees the gaggle of girls around Yuuji, touching him, stroking his arm even if Yuuji does look a little uncomfortable. He’s probably just not used to the attention anymore — too preoccupied with Megumi lately. He’ll get his groove back, Megumi thinks bitterly, downing the rest of the punch.
Deciding he’s had enough of watching Yuuji be slathered in attention from other people, Megumi bumbles towards the punch bowl again. The alcohol has hit his system, but only slightly. There’s a lovely, faint fog around his brain and he’s able to push all thoughts of Yuuji aside, in favor of dredging more of that fog to hug the tumbling recesses of his mind. Little does Megumi know that his search for his third drink of the night is where things start to go a little haywire.
It happens way too quickly for Megumi to even process it properly because one minute, he’s bent over the table, reaching for a new cup, the next, he feels a harsh slap to his ass. By the time he swings around to see who the culprit is, there’s a body of a man lying in front of him and Yuuji above him shaking out his fist.
“Do that again and I’ll rip your fuckin’ head off,” Yuuji snarls, loud and booming over the sound of the music, flexing and unflexing his hand.
Yuuji steps over the man, who’s writhing on the floor and cupping his face, approaching him with the anger of a thousand suns, and he feels like he’s about to get yelled at. Then Yuuji meets his eye and his face immediately softens. He cups Megumi’s face in both his hands, pecks a kiss to his forehead.
“You okay, sunshine?” he asks, worry written deep into his face.
“Y-Yeah? I think? What just happened?”
Yuuji gestures flippantly to the guy still squirming alone on the ground. “Scumbag slapped your ass when you were bent over the table.”
“And how’d he end up on the floor?”
“Punched him,” Yuuji says with a shrug of his shoulders, as if that’s a totally sane thing to have done.
“You punched him?”
By now, a group of people have started to gather around the guy whose friends have finally arrived to help him up.
“You’re fuckin’ crazy man,” one of them says to Yuuji who just grins, wide and wolfish towards them.
“It’s crazier to sexually harass people, assholes,” he spits back over his shoulder.
He turns away from Megumi to squat in front of the man, who’s propped upright by his friends. His eyes look feral when he grabs the man’s face, who tries to squirm away. His grip is hard and the man’s mouth is forced into the shape of an ‘o.’
“Don’t touch what’s mine next time, ‘kay?” he says, before tapping the man’s face and jumping back up, hands on his hips.
Yuuji strolls back to Megumi as if Megumi didn’t witness Yuuji doing something insane (and kinda hot, Megumi’s not above admitting it).
“Why the hell did you punch him?” Megumi asks. “You could get into huge trouble for that. Like lose-your-scholarship trouble.”
“Megumi, he slapped your ass ,” Yuuji spells it out, like he’s five years old, tugging Megumi towards him by the waist.
“So what? It happens all the time when I go to these parties,” Megumi argues. He really doesn’t see the big deal because it’s not like he can’t defend himself.
Yuuji’s face visibly darkens and his grip around Megumi’s waist tightens. “Not while we’ve been together, right?”
Together .
The word rings in Megumi’s mind before realising, right, yeah, their whole situationship.
“No, I haven’t been to any parties since we’ve been together.”
“Okay, good,” Yuuji says, with a resolute nod of his head. “Come on, let’s get out of here. This party’s a fuckin’ bust and I’d rather…bust in you,” he finishes off with a wink and double finger guns.
Megumi rolls his eyes and smacks the middle of Yuuji’s chest. “That was the worst line.”
“I know,” Yuuji says with a smirk, pulling Megumi in for a kiss.
Megumi’s heart does triple somersaults and he clamps down that feeling with a thick rope.
“Yuuji, we’re in public!” Megumi exclaims, when he pulls away and all Yuuji responds with is another bright laugh, pulling Megumi closer.
“You’re so cute when you’re flustered,” he chuckles, pulling him in for another kiss.
Megumi dodges it by placing a hand over Yuuji’s mouth. “Not here,” he hisses, eyes darting around the room to see if anyone saw.
“Alright, alright. Let’s get going,” sliding an arm possessively around Megumi’s waist and guiding him out of the house.
They end up at Yuuji’s place with Yuuji immediately on him like a bee with honey, undressing him with a fervor.
“Gonna remind you who you belong to tonight,” he murmurs into Megumi’s mouth as he licks into it like he’s trying to taste the back of his throat, already rutting against Megumi’s hip like a puppy.
And how much longer will that be the case ? Megumi wonders. His chest tightens at the thought of this ending.
Soon, Megumi thinks. Soon, he’ll end things first. But for now, he’ll enjoy the sweet, soft warmth of Yuuji as he fucks into him gently and for once, let himself feel wanted, even if it sits behind the painful fog of smoke and mirrors.
Notes:
did you enjoy megumi's pov? let me know in the comments!
Chapter 4: i won't be denied by you, the animal inside
Summary:
Feelings are realised. Yuuji is a romantic.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
It’s been a busy month for Megumi. Training has gotten more intense with a cheer competition coming up and his classes have ramped up. As part of his course load, he’s also interning once a week at a local veterinary clinic that leaves him drained and exhausted by the end of the day, and even more sick of people who bring their pets in too late for treatment.
The night before he starts his internship is the first time in a month that he and Yuuji sleep apart. He gets a text message just before he falls asleep from Yuuji.
[Yuuji 11:32]
Already miss your gorjuss face, g’night beautiful
Megumi screams into his pillow and wonders what Yuuji is doing to him.
Yuuji sends him flowers to his apartment the next day; a large bouquet of red roses arranged in the shape of a heart with a note saying ‘ You got this, babe, ’ and Megumi thinks Yuuji’s probably just the nicest friends with benefits he’s ever had and all his other ones sucked.
His feet hurt from standing all day, arms burning from lifting large dogs onto the examination table. When he gets home, he showers and falls face first into his bed. The only times he sees Yuuji is a hurried hi and bye as their training times overlap and every time, it breaks his heart a little to see Yuuji’s face fall as he peels off to the showers. Yuuji’s probably dying from the dry spell he’s having.
Though, they’ve never said their arrangement was an exclusive one so for all he knows, Yuuji’s getting it somewhere else. He’s too exhausted to think about how the thought of Yuuji sleeping with someone makes him feel so he packs it away in a little box and stores it in the dusty attic in his brain.
Megumi’s got a rare day off in the form of a Saturday where he’s up to date on all of his coursework and he doesn’t have to be in the clinic. His only plans are to veg out on the couch for the whole day before dinner with his parents. It’s interrupted when he hears a rattling sound on his apartment window that’s two floors up. His head immediately darts to his window and is stunned to find Yuuji struggling to break into his window. He rushes over to it, sliding it open. “Yuuji, what the fuck do you think you’re doing? You could’ve fallen and hit your head,” he hisses, ignoring the way Yuuji’s muscles flex as he grabs the window frame to step inside his apartment. “You couldn’t have come through the door like a normal person.
Yuuji flashes his thousand-watt grin. “Your concierge wouldn’t let me in so I had to be creative, which by the way, rude. I don’t know why your concierge has such a problem with me.”
“Inumaki’s just had enough of you slinging me over your back like a sack of potatoes and thinks you’re a nuisance because of it.”
Yuuji gasps, hands over his heart. “A nuisance? It should be you who’s classified as one with the way you scream my name every time I carry you here.”
Megumi blushes and lets his head fall into his hands. “I hate you. Why are you here?”
“I’ve barely heard from you all month,” Yuuji whines, his shoulders drooping and hands falling to his sides.
Megumi rubs the back of his head with his hand and grimaces. “Yeah, I’ve been busy with life and stressed,” he says, waving his hand in the air to brush it off.
“Yeah, I figured,” Yuuji says, defeated and gaze falling on the floor. “But!” and in a flash, his head pops back up, grin so wide it’s almost scary. “That’s why I’m here. Come on,” he says, and grabs Megumi’s hand.
He should resist. He’s so exhausted and he really was looking forward to putting on a nature documentary and remaining horizontal the whole afternoon. Except Megumi’s become weak to Yuuji’s whims and he just looks so excited. Yuuji leads him out of his apartment and into the elevator, past reception where he flicks a “Hi Inumaki!” over his shoulder, ignoring the flurried hand gestures (probably filled with curses) that come from Megumi’s concierge.
“Yuuji, where are we going,” he asks, drawing out the end of his sentence.
When Yuuji finally stops, a few paces from the entrance to Megumi’s apartment building, it’s with an exaggerated flourish towards — his motorbike.
Megumi’s heart falters for a moment looking at the gorgeous ride. “You rode your bike here?”
“Yep! And we’re going for a ride.”
“I didn’t even know you had a motorbike. I don’t have a helmet or any — ” Megumi protests weakly.
“You really think I didn’t think of that? Babe, come on,” he says, reaching into one of the storage compartments and pulling out a green helmet and holding it side by side with Megumi’s head as if inspecting something.
“Hell yeah! I knew it’d match your eyes perfectly,” Yuuji exclaims as he excitedly slides the helmet over Megumi’s spikes and clips it on.
“What do you mean? Wait, did you buy this for me?”
Yuuji tilts his head like a confused puppy, eyebrows scrunching in the middle, making Megumi’s heart swell with something he’s pretty sure is affection. “Yes? I don’t have a second helmet. Just my one here,” he says, rapping his sleek black helmet with his knuckles.
Okay, which means Yuuji bought the helmet specifically for him. For him to ride Yuuji’s motorbike with. What does that mean? Well, it probably doesn’t mean anything — they’re friends and friends buy things for friends and yeah, the helmet’s an expensive brand and he doesn’t think Yuuji is rich.
Cool, now that he’s rationalised Yuuji’s actions, he can move the fuck on and be totally normal.
The next thing Yuuji whips out is a motorcycle jacket, and Megumi knows it is from the way certain parts of the jacket’s weighed down by the protective padding sewn inside the fabric.
“Yuuji, you did not just buy this for me,” Megumi states, mouth agape.
Again, Yuuji looks at him, confused, like Megumi’s the one who spent over a grand for something that’ll be used, like once.
Maybe he’ll start taking girls for a ride once he’s bored of you.
Megumi bats away those insecure thoughts like an annoying fruit fly because who fucking cares if Yuuji gets bored. He knows that’s happening, so it’s not a big deal. Take what he can get and move on when the time comes.
“Why are you making it seem like the end of the world that I just want my baby protected?”
Oh for god's sake. Yuuji’s cruel. He’s so very cruel for calling Megumi ‘baby’ outside of the bedroom. What the fuck is that. But before Megumi can call him out on it, he’s tugging the jacket around Megumi and zipping it up for him, fluffing the collar to make it sit properly around Megumi’s neck.
When he swings his legs over the bike seat, Yuuji already perched on the front of it, Yuuji guides his arms so they wrap around his waist. Megumi’s hands are pressed flat against Yuuji’s stomach and he can feel his abs through the linen shirt Yuuji’s wearing. He shuffles back so he doesn’t pop a boner from the feel of Yuuji’s mouthwatering body and embarrass himself.
Okay, apparently he’s incapable of being fucking normal when he’s around Yuuji, ugh.
Yuuji ignites the engine and the vibrations beneath his balls is enough to get Megumi going so he shuffles back even more. Soon enough, as Yuuji picks up speed, the exhilaration of speed and the cool night air takes his mind off the sensations pretty fast.
The wind wraps his body like he’s in a vortex and it’s the best feeling in the world. It’s exactly how he imagined riding a bike would feel; freeing and pulses of adrenaline rushing through his veins. It’s nice and for a while he forgets about how Yuuji makes him feel and the inevitable expiry date, he forgets the exams looming overhead that hang like cobwebs, he forgets that tomorrow is another day that he has to live, subsisting on as little as possible to meet the weight range he needs to be in to stay in the cheer team as a flyer.
He forgets and it’s just him, the bubbles of excitement from the speed and Yuuji. Sexy, hot Yuuji who’s leaning this way and that as he turns, his biceps flexing when he twists the handlebars every time he accelerates and changes gears.
Megumi gets so lost in his feelings, he doesn’t realise that Yuuji’s pulled to a stop, only realising when the sound of the ignition and the vibrations stop thrumming through his body.
“Where are we?”
“Oh, it’s just one of the mountain overpasses. I thought it’d be nice to see the city from here,” Yuuji says with an overly nonchalant shrug.
“I didn’t take you for an exhibitionist.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Yuuji asks, cocking his head to the side, face adorably furrowed and Megumi finds out Yuuji’s a really good actor. There’s no way he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.
Whatever. Megumi’s willing to do anything once; even fucking outside on a mountain.
His point’s proven when Yuuji brings out a picnic rug and lays it on the ground just by the edge of the overpass. Megumi snorts and rolls his eyes. Yuuji’s probably pent up as fuck, which also doesn’t make sense since Yuuji could literally fuck anyone else on campus.
“You know, you obviously wanna,” he says and gestures to the picnic rug in an obvious way.
It takes Yuuji a minute, the big idiot, (Megumi is hopelessly endeared to it) and screws his face up once he realises.
“That was so not what I planned, I swear,” he defends, his mouth agape and face offended.
“Uh huh,” Megumi says, feigning anger by crossing his arms and jutting his hip out.
“Megumi! You have to believe me!” he says, shaking Megumi. Then turns to his bike’s storage compartment and starts to pull out Tupperware.
“Look, I brought us snacks and fruit,” and Megumi notices it’s all his favorite, safe foods. Dark chocolate coated rice crackers, strawberries and sugar free sour gummy worms. He’s surprised that Yuuji even knows he likes them.
“Oh,” Megumi says, dumbfounded and rooted to the spot where he stands.
Yuuji grabs his hand and leads him to sit down on the picnic rug, the snacks spread out in front of him. He places Megumi in front of him, his chest against Megumi’s back and his legs caged around Megumi.
It feels…intimate. Nice. Seems like something people in relationships would do; not that Megumi knows anything about that. For a moment, he feels a flickering warmth in his chest and cosies himself in Yuuji’s arms. But then, like always, reality sets in.
Yuuji’s a nice guy, he rationalises. He’d do this for anyone he’s sleeping with, like maybe Yuuji just treats his friends with benefits really well, absolutely certain this isn’t a first for Yuuji.
“It’s nice up here,” Yuuji comments, munching away on a rice cracker, the crisp sound right against Megumi’s ear. “Never knew this place existed till I Googled it.”
“What?” Megumi asks, surprised. “You’ve never been up here before?”
Surely this is like, a spot for Yuuji. It’s so romantic when the weather’s nice. The sky is blue, the sun’s out with just enough cloudiness to shade them from an unbearable heat. It’s quiet, undisturbed except for the occasional sound of a bird.
“No, why would I ever go up here?”
“Dunno, thought it’d be a romantic spot you’d use to put your moves.”
Yuuji throws his head back and laughs out a full-bellied laugh. He jostles Megumi in the process who scrambles to keep himself upright.
“My moves? Who do you think I am Megs?” He wraps his arms around Megumi’s waist even tighter and Megumi feels the ghost of his hot breath against the hard shell of his ear. “But do you want me to put the moves on you, baby?”
Megumi’s breath hitches and his traitorous cock jumps. Instead of entertaining his own thoughts, he reaches back and slaps Yuuji’s thigh. “We’re in public, idiot,” and it causes Yuuji to bark out a laugh.
“So where are you originally from? How did you know, end up with Gojo?” Yuuji asks as he hugs him a little tighter, hooking his head over Megumi’s shoulder. His stubble brushes against Megumi’s cheek.
Megumi tenses, unsure if he’s willing to open up the can of worms that is his childhood. “How do you know about Gojo?”
“When I came over one time, when you sprained your ankle, your dad’s dropped by.”
Megumi buries his head in his hands and groans. “God, he wasn’t embarrassing was he? I swear he’s made it his lifelong goal to embarrass me whenever he can.”
“Hey, no. He was fine. Actually…I uh, maybe embarrassed myself ,” Yuuji says sheepishly.
Megumi turns his head with his brows furrowed. “What did you do?”
“I may have assumed he was your sugar daddy. And vocalised that thought.”
There’s a moment of silence before Megumi can’t help it. He bursts into a fit of laughter, lurching Yuuji forward as he bends at the waist.
“Shut up, it was mortifying!”
He has tears in his eyes that he begins to wipe away. “Yuuji, that’s so fucking funny. Oh my god. How embarrassing for you.”
“You’re so mean to me Megumiiiii,” Yuuji says with a pout before pressing a kiss to the back of his head. “Seriously though, how’d you end up with him and the other guy.”
“Geto,” Megumi supplies. “My other dad’s name is Geto. It’s kind of a shitty story.”
“You don’t have to share anything you don’t want to.”
And Megumi is so grateful for that, he really is. But something inside of him just — he doesn’t want to hide from Yuuji. Yuuji has a way of making him want to open up, spill all the secrets he keeps close to his heart even if it shows the rotten core of his insides.
He sucks in a deep breath and exhales. “My biological dad — he wasn’t the greatest. After my mum died, he kind of just checked out of being a dad.” He takes another deep breath as he dregs up the worst of his childhood. “Tsumiki, my sister, her mum took care of us for a while but then one day, she just dipped as well. I remember nights with my sister, we’d be freezing because he’d fucked off somewhere and forgotten to pay the bills. I only have small memories from that time. I was really young, you know?”
“That’s horrible, Megumi,” Yuuji whispers, horror evident in his voice.
“It’s okay. He died not too long after Tsumiki’s mum left. Got involved in some shoot out apparently. It wasn’t long after that Gojo and Geto came to our apartment. They were acquaintances of my dad, apparently. They took us in and the rest is history.”
Yuuji gives a thoughtful hum. Then, “Yeah, not many people know this but my parents died when Sukuna and I were really young too. Car accident apparently. We were both too young to remember. My granddad took us in but he died when I was fifteen and Sukuna was seventeen. It was rough for a bit till both of us got jobs. Well, I got a job. I don’t know what Sukuna does.”
Megumi chortles at that, unsurprised if Sukuna was involved in some shady shit.
“Guess we’re both orphans, huh?” Yuuji says.
“Guess so,” Megumi agrees.
“Maybe that’s why we get along so well.”
“Yuuji, you get along with everyone.”
“No I don’t!” Yuuji protests. “There’s lots of people I don’t get along with.”
“I don’t think I’ve heard anyone talk badly about you,” Megumi says, shaking his head.
“I’ll have you know I have a bad boy reputation.”
Megumi snorts, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, right. Maybe a puppy boy reputation.”
“Hey! What the hell is that?” Yuuji says, his fingers moving slowly to Megumi’s side, drumming them before devolving into a full tickle attack. They both slump forward and end up sprawled over the picnic blanket. “Take it back, Megumi. Say I’m a bad boy.”
Megumi’s gasping for air and laughing while trying to push Yuuji’s large hands away from him, eyes pinched shut. “No! You’re a puppy.”
Yuuji makes a growling noise, pulls back to give Megumi a second of reprieve before pouncing at Megumi, which only gives Megumi more fuel. “See? You even growl like a puppy,” he says, laughter bubbling out of him so easily and like never before as Yuuji’s fingers tickle his sides.
“Say I’m a bad boy!”
“No!”
Eventually, Megumi gives in and calls Yuuji a bad boy, to which Yuuji responds with a ‘yipee.’ When Megumi concedes, he opens his eyes to Yuuji’s face within kissing distance and the tickling and laughter leaves Megumi feeling he’s high on Yuuji. He darts his head up and pecks Yuuji on the lips who chases after his lips when they leave.
Sprawled on the picnic rug with Yuuji above him, they make out as Megumi grips Yuuji’s tshirt tightly with one hand, the other threading his fingers through Yuuji’s gel crunchy spikes. It’s not like their other make outs, where it gets heated and sloppy really fast.
Instead, it’s slow and their lips meet rhythmically like the waves lapping slowly to the shore. There’s not even any tongue from Yuuji who usually doesn’t hesitate to taste the back of Megumi’s throat. It’s just their lips meeting again and again, languid like a dance. Megumi’s the first to slip his tongue into the mix, licking a line against Yuuji’s tongue, feeling the wet hot muscle against his.
Yuuji moans into his mouth and pulls away. His pupils are dilated and he brings a hand up to brush the hair away from Megumi’s eyes. “God, you’re so pretty and cute. I just wanna eat you up,” he says, the smallest of smiles on his lips. It’s nothing like his every day megawatt grin that he sends everyone and Megumi almost wants to believe it’s a smile just for him.
Of course it’s not, because why the fuck would Yuuji have a special smile for him?
“Oh my god, shut up Yuuji,” Megumi says instead, bringing his hands up to cover his face, heat crawling up his cheeks at Yuuji’s words.
Yuuji honest to god starts snickering into Megumi’s neck, and Megumi wants to smack him for embarrassing him. He can feel Yuuji’s hot breath brushing against his neck and it sets his nerves on fire. He can’t believe this is his life right now: lying on a mountaintop with Itadori Yuuji, a small picnic laid out for him by notoriously unattainable straight Itadori Yuuji.
It’s the most romantic thing anyone’s done for him ever and no Megumi can’t be catching feelings. He kinda has to nip this in the bud. Only he doesn’t really want to and wants this to go on forever. But he knows he can’t, knows this has an expiration date (whenever Yuuji gets bored). He knows Yuuji knows this too so he’s a little curious why Yuuji is doing all this, if Yuuji knows he’s playing Megumi’s heart like a fiddle.
So he pulls Yuuji out of his neck by pushing Yuuji’s solid, broad shoulders and asks, “So why’d you do all this?”
Yuuji’s still smiling wide when he pulls Yuuji off him. Yuuji’s palm cups Megumi’s cheek, his eyes boring into Megumi’s as his expression turns quizzical, eyebrows cutely drawn in. “Why do all of what?”
“Why’d you kidnap me to have a picnic out here, one of the most romantic spots I’ve ever been to. I mean, why bother?”
Like, surely Yuuji knows by now that Megumi’s thirsty as fuck for him, willing to bend over if Yuuji just names a time and place. Maybe at the start, for Yuuji’s conscience he had to keep up this whole friendship charade. Maybe felt bad for using Megumi to experiment, so he gets why he hung out so much with him then.
But it’s been months and Megumi doesn’t think he’s ever given off the vibe that he’s unhappy with the arrangement or opposed to continuing it. He thinks it’s quite the opposite and if anything, he feels as though he gives off a bit of a desperate energy which he honestly thought would be off-putting for Yuuji.
“I can’t do something nice for you?” Yuuji asks, then ducks down to give Megumi a quick peck on the lips.
“Yeah, but why?” Megumi presses.
“Because I like you,” another peck on the lips. “And I like spending time with you,” he says, pressing another light kiss on Megumi’s lips. “Does it need to be anymore complicated than that?”
And yeah, Megumi’s brain supplies. It can be more complicated than that, but he doesn’t wanna ruin this — what they have — or this moment. So he leaves it alone, leaves the lingering questions stuffed under six feet of granite because he’ll take what he can get.
“No, I guess not,” he says instead. Yuuji smiles at him, that small smile Megumi deludes himself into thinking it’s just for him, and pecks him on the nose. Then pulls himself up, standing upright, yanking Megumi up in the process.
“Come on baby, let’s head back. It’s getting cold.”
They pack up the picnic rug in silence, Yuuji’s varsity jacket slung over Megumi’s shoulder. He only takes it off when Yuuji zips up the motorbike jacket for the ride home but he holds onto it for the ride home.
When they get to Megumi’s apartment building and Megumi tries to hand it back to Yuuji, he says, “Keep it babe, I’ve got like five of them,” and pulls Megumi in between his legs for a long, lingering kiss.
Their kiss is broken by the sound of Megumi’s phone. He rolls his eyes at the caller ID. When he answers the call, he’s blasted with, “ Gumi-channnn. We’re ordering sushi tonight. What do you want? ”
Yuuji looks at him quizzically and Megumi waves a hand to tell him it’s alright. He rubs his forehead with his thumb and forefinger. “Anything, just make sure you get extra ginger.”
Gojo scoffs. “ Of course my little sea urchin. Who do you take me for?”
“Okay, can I go now?” he asks, frustrated that Gojo interrupted the moment he had with Yuuji.
“ Oh, was my little sea urchin busy? Was he perhaps spending some time with an Itadori Yuuji?”
“Why do you know his full name? Why do you even kno — you know what? Doesn’t matter.”
“ Gumi-chan should bring him ,” Gojo suggests.
“Are you crazy? He wouldn’t wanna come anyway.”
‘Hey!” Yuuji yells. “Who said I wouldn’t? Besides, someone needs to give you a ride,” Yuuji says with a wink and god, Megumi’s heart skips a beat.
“ Ooooh, I like his energy. Bring him, ” and then hangs up on Megumi like the lawless creature he is.
Megumi sighs long and deep, head thrown back to look at the sky.
“You good?” Yuuji asks.
“Yeah,” he says, rubbing his face with both hands. “Are you sure you wanna join? You don’t have to.”
It feels a little too much like meeting the parents. He’s never brought a boy home before and a sting pricks his heart when he remembers it’s not like that . Like, it is but it isn’t, yeah? Because they’re friends but also, it seems so much more monumental than that.
“‘Course, baby. Besides, can’t say no to free food!” Yuuji grins.
So Megumi reluctantly hops back on the bike, motorbike jacket zipped up again and puts in his parent’s house into Yuuji’s GPS.
When they arrive, he replaces the motorbike jacket with Yuuji’s varsity one, the dusk air nipping at his forearms.
“Woah, this is where you grew up?” Yuuji says as he looks in awe at the large, modern home with a traditional Japanese garden and decor littering the premises.
“Yep,” Megumi says neutrally. “Gojo’s kind of…rich.”
“You don’t say. What the hell does he do?”
“You know the electronics in your phone, your laptop? Hell, probably some parts of your bike?”
Yuuji nods, his eyes wide and bright.
“His family manufactures all of that.”
Yuuji’s eyes widen and, “Wait, Gojo. As in Gojo Tech Inc? Holy shit Megumi.”
Megumi lets out a small laugh. “Took you long enough, idiot.”
With a pout, he careens into Megumi, his large body dwarfing Megumi’s and covering him whole. “You’re so mean to me.”
“It’s okay. I’m glad you didn’t realise for a while. It’s why…” Megumi shrugs sheepishly. “It’s better this way.
“What do you mean?”
“When people realise who my dad is…it’s hard to know what their actual intentions are.”
His mind throws him back to the one ‘long-term’ relationship he had during his freshman year. Kamo Noritoshi. He was a sophmore. A mediocre lay but seemed genuinely interested in getting to know Megumi further which rarely happened, what with his withdrawn personality. Two months into whatever they had, he’d poked and prodded relentlessly, seemingly desperate to meet his parents.
It wasn’t until he brought up his name in casual conversation to Gojo that he’d realised Kamo was a seedy motherfucker, the son of one of the rival conglomerates of Gojo Tech. He’d promptly broken things off before even giving Kamo a chance to reveal his intentions, blocked his number and avoided him around campus.
“Are you guys going to come in? Or are you just going to stand there like you’re protagonists of a romcom?”
The familiar voice startles them both and they jump apart, like they’ve both been zapped.
When Megumi looks to the front door, he sees Geto standing there, smirking lazily, casually leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed.
“How long have you been there?” Megumi asks.
“Long enough,” Geto answers, his smirk widening till his eyes turn into little crescents.
Yuuji stiffens, then walks up to Geto and bows at an outrageous ninety degrees. “It’s so nice to meet you again, Geto-san. Thank you for having me at such short notice.”
Geto’s smile softens. “No need to be so formal Yuuji-kun. Any friend of Megumi’s is welcome at ours. Lord knows he needs more of them.”
“Dad!” he scolds. “Can you not make me seem like a loser?”
His dad just smiles at him unrepentantly, showing zero remorse for his comment so he just huffs and rolls his eyes. Yuuji stalks back over to Megumi and ruffles his hair before slinging an arm over his shoulder and guiding him into the house. “It’s okay, Megs. I don’t think you’re a loser.”
When they enter the house, they’re led to the lounge where he finds Gojo sprawled on the couch as a movie plays on the television. Before he can even greet his dad, Yuuji throws his arm off Megumi and yells, “No way! Is that Human Earthworm 5?!”
Gojo whips around, blue furby eyes wide with shock. “You know it?”
“Yeah!” Yuuji says with all the enthusiasm of a five year old. “It’s my favorite movie franchise but nobody wants to watch it with me,” he whines.
“Well,” Gojo says while patting the empty spot next to him. “Seat’s free and the food won’t get here for a while.”
Yuuji whoops and jumps over the back of the couch, settling in next to Gojo. He twists around to face Megumi, his face in a plea. “Can I?”
A huff of laughter escapes his nose. “I think you’ve already settled in.”
“Come, let’s leave them to their movie. I want to talk to you.”
Megumi stiffens at that, unsure what his father would have to talk to him about.
“Don’t look so tense,” Geto says with a small knowing smile. “It’s nothing bad,” he says as he puts the kettle on for some tea.
He sits down nervously at the kitchen bench, shifting this way and that on the seat as he waits in anticipation. When Geto returns with two mugs of green tea, Megumi blurts out, “What do you want to talk about?”
Geto laughs, low and deep. “You’re getting yourself worked up over nothing. I just wanted to know what’s going on with you and Yuuji-kun.”
“What do you mean?” Megumi asks, careful to keep his face neutral even when his heart is beating out of his chest. “Nothing’s going on.”
“Megumi, I have known you since you were tiny. You know better than to lie to me like that. Even when you were a grouchy little bean, I could read you like a book. It drove Satoru insane.”
He knows it’s the truth and there’s no point in hiding it. Every attempt to hide his demons from his father in high school were fruitless, almost like Geto had experienced it himself and could see through him like a glass window.
“So?” his father prompts.
Megumi looks towards the door leading to the lounge and sees Yuuji and Gojo engaged in a deep conversation. He hears snippets of it, their voices loud and uncaring as they discuss themes of love or whatever.
“It’s complicated,” he starts, then immediately cringes as he realises how cliche that sounds.
His father laughs a deep, rich laugh. “Isn’t love always complicated?”
Megumi recoils, his eyes darting to his father’s. “Who said anything about love?”
“Like a book, remember?”
He sighs, warring with himself inside. On one hand, vocalising would make it real. On the other hand, it would just feel so damn good to admit it out loud. Especially to another person. “It doesn’t matter if I love him. What we have is just casual. I don’t think he wants anything more.”
“You shouldn’t be so quick to dismiss him, you know?”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve seen the way he looks at you. He’s considerate. You forget, it’s not the first time I’ve met him,” Geto says, amused.
“Oh god, he told me about that,” he says with a laugh. Geto joins in with him.
“Yes, you should’ve seen the way he squared up, like he was ready to fight for your hand in marriage or something,” Geto snickers.
“Stop. It’s really not like that. I’m pretty sure Yuuji doesn’t realise he’s not straight anyway.”
“What did you guys get up to today?” Geto asks, throwing Megumi off with the drastic topic change.
“Ummm, he took me out on his motorbike to the mountains and we had a picnic.”
His dad quirks an eyebrow and leans back on his chair with his arms crossed. “Sounds like a date.”
“It wasn’t —,”
And he’s interrupted by the chime of the doorbell, signalling that their food is here. His dad stands with his usual grace to make his way to the front door and calls for his dad and Yuuji when he spreads the food across the dinner table.
“Oh man, this looks so great! Thank you so much for having me Gojo-san and Geto-san!” Yuuji says, enthusiastically. On any other person, it may seem over the top and insincere but as usual, Yuuji’s voice just has that extra layer of earnestness that belies any fake platitudes.
“I like him. You should keep him, Gumi-chan,” Gojo whispers with a smirk.
“Dad,” he hisses. “Shut up.”
Yuuji is too enamoured by the spread to realise what’s going on and for that, Megumi is grateful.
Dinner is a lively affair, with Gojo and Yuuji getting along like a house on fire, both taking turns to do impressions from movies they’ve seen. And then getting into another deep, analytical conversation about the themes of the Human Earthworm franchise.
Before he knows it, dinner is over and it’s nearing ten pm. It’s still a thirty minute ride back to campus and Megumi has to stifle a yawn when he realises the time. His parents walk them to the front door and just before they step outside, into the warm summer air, Geto pulls him aside and whispers, “Give yourself a chance, okay?”
Not wanting to leave Yuuji hanging, he nods in agreement (a lie) and walks out the front door to hop on Yuuji’s bike.
“Take care of my precious little sea urchin Yuuji-kun!” Gojo shouts from the doorway, a knowing smirk on his face, sunglasses sliding down his nose.
Yuuji laughs loud and bright. “Always, Gojo-san!” he says, loud enough to be heard over the engine’s hum.
When they arrive at the front of Megumi’s apartment, he slides off the bike and turns to say goodbye, before Yuuji grabs Megumi’s wrist and pulls him between his thick thighs.
Yuuji cradles Megumi’s face and thumbs at his bottom lip, presses a kiss to him. “I had a lotta fun today. Your dads are fun.”
Megumi manages to shake himself out of his reverie from Yuuji’s touch to manage an eye roll. “They’re both menaces.”
His response gets a chuckle out of Yuuji who kisses Megumi again. “It was kinda like meeting the parents right? I think I did pretty well if I say so myself,” he says, puffing his chest out with pride.
It leaves Megumi rooted to the spot because he’s kinda right but kinda not because they’re not together . It really was just him bringing a friend home and nothing more than that. Instead of refuting him and spilling out his insane thoughts and risk revealing his true feelings, Megumi just nods in agreement with a hum.
“Yeah, was nice.”
Yuuji pulls him in for another kiss, only this one is less chaste, a lingering number that’s dizzying. It’s soft and open, and Megumi feels flayed open and raw when he feels Yuuji lick his tongue inside his mouth, swiping across his bottom teeth. When they pull away, Megumi expects something hungry but all he sees in Yuuji’s eyes is sickening fondness. It makes Megumi’s heart speed up and before he makes fool out of himself and declare his fucking love for Yuuji or something, he starts shrugging Yuuji’s jacket off to return it to him.
“Keep it babe, I’ve got a few of them, remember?” and pulls him in for another last lingering kiss. “Get inside before it gets too cold, come on,” and sends him off with a kiss to his cheek.
It leaves Megumi a little dazed and confused as he shrugs the jacket back on and walks through the lobby of his apartment building, his hands lifting it up around his face and burying his nose into the collar. All he can smell is Yuuji, Yuuji, Yuuji . That musky sandalwood mixture that’s so distinctly him.
He wishes they were something more. He wishes that kiss meant what it could’ve meant if Yuuji wasn’t just a fuck buddy. But wishes don’t come true — at least not for Megumi — so he stops thinking like he’s five again and snaps back to his reality.
When he gets dressed for bed and spies the jacket slung over his desk chair, he can’t help but swipe it off the chair, and falling into bed with it. Megumi falls asleep hugging the jacket and dreams of more sweet moments with Yuuji.
The next time he sees Yuuji is during a night game against Kyoto University. Him and his fellow cheerleaders are deep in their start of the game routine when he spots Yuuji running onto the field. He tries not to get distracted by Yuuji in his uniform and holding his helmet by his side, the shoulder pads making his shoulders appear even broader. His fellow cheerleaders gush about how sexy Yuuji is and he stuffs down the urge to boast that he’s getting stuffed every night by said sexy footballer. He doesn’t intend to but Yuuji catches his eye and gives him a little wink that sends butterflies through his stomach.
The girls around him all chitter excitedly, claiming the wink was sent their way and was for them which kinda pisses Megumi off but he stays mum about, feeling heat crawl up his cheeks. It should be a relatively standard night — no different to the rest of the games he’s been at so Megumi treats it as such.
And then Yuuji scores his first touchdown, looks at Megumi, points a finger in his direction and blows him a kiss.
What. The. Fuck.
He looks around him to see if it was aimed at someone close to him but he already knows that’s impossible because he’s standing in the air, hoisted up by the palms of his bases. Yuuji had deliberately looked up and what is he doing?! People are going to ask questions Megumi doesn’t have answers to. Yuuji’s reputation is gonna go down the drain for associating with him.
When he lands, his heart’s beating a million miles a minute and it’s not from the adrenaline of being thrown in the air — no, he’s used to that. What he’s not used to is acknowledgment that he exists outside the bedroom.
“What the hell was that?!” his fellow flyer Mai whisper yells at him during their downtime. “Did Itadori Yuuji blow a kiss to you?”
She says it with such disdain and disbelief, her face all scrunched up that Megumi just wants to scream out ‘he fucks me in the ass every other night’ just to see her face crumple. But god, that’s not a can of worms he’s willing to open so he plays dumb instead.
“Are you crazy? He probably thought I was someone else.”
Mai narrows her eyes suspiciously and purses her lips. “Well, I have been hearing some rumours. And you hang out an awful lot.”
“Yeah, it’s called being friends. Something you’re probably unfamiliar with,” Megumi replies. It’s mean but if it shuts her up, Megumi doesn’t care.
She huffs and walks off with her nose in the air. Megumi breathes a sigh of relief that he’s managed to fend her off for the time being. Most of the girls on his team are nice enough. He’ll entertain their whims occasionally — like the time he went clubbing with them and Yuuji had picked him up. Mai is resolutely not someone he entertains.
A hand touches his arm and he looks up, meeting brown eyes. “Hey, you alright?” Yuko asks. Her face holds genuine concern, eyebrows pinched in the middle.
“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just Mai being Mai,” he says, huffing a short laugh.
“Yeah I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation.”
“Oh,” and he’s immediately suspicious she’s fishing for more information. He really hopes not because Yuko’s one of the few teammates he actually likes. “Like, all of it?”
She nods. “And just so you know, I’ve never seen him happier.”
“Huh?”
“Yuuji. I’ve known him for a while actually. Since we were teens actually.”
“Oh,” he says again, dumbly. “I had no idea.”
It’s this moment that he realises there’s actually quite a lot that he doesn’t know about Yuuji. They don’t spend that much time talking when they’re together, or at least the words they do say to each other don’t reveal much about the other. It’s mostly variations of ‘fuck me harder’ or ‘fuck yeah, keep bouncing on my cock like that, Megumi.’
Yuko probably knows way more about Yuuji than Megumi does despite having Yuuji’s cum dripping from his asshole like a leaky faucet. Well, maybe Yuko’s also been that intimate with Yuuji before — they’ve clearly got a history. Who knows if they’ve fucked previously, not Megumi, that’s for sure.
The thought that Yuuji’s possibly fucked Yuko makes Megumi’s stomach curl and his brain starts picturing them together and oh god, no he’s not doing this. He’s not going to let his brain make a big deal just because he likes Yuuji — half the campus has a crush on Yuuji, Megumi’s nothing special.
(There’s a tiny voice in the delusional recesses of his mind that tells him he is; that the pet names, the soft forehead kisses he gets after they’ve fucked, the snacks Yuuji will bring for him after Megumi’s cheer practice are all special things that Yuuji’s never done for anyone else.)
She laughs, delicate and pretty. “Yeah, that’s Yuuji. He sucks at sharing anything personal so don’t take it to heart.”
The fact that she knows that about Yuuji is enough for him to it a little personally. He knows nothing about Yuuji — nothing meaningful at least.
Megumi knows how to suck Yuuji’s dick till he’s panting, tongue out like a dog. Megumi knows the fastest way to get Yuuji hard is to play with his uncut tip by jerking the foreskin back and forth, only just rolling it over his tip and not all the way. Megumi knows when to clench his hole and how much to milk Yuuji’s cock for all its worth when he comes.
Megumi doesn’t know Yuuji’s favorite colour. Megumi doesn’t know how Yuuji likes his coffee — if he even drinks coffee. Megumi doesn’t know who Yuuji’s even friends with.
And it’s fine — it’s totally fine because they’re just fucking. Yuuji’s experimenting and figuring out his sexuality and Megumi gets the best dicking of his life.
So why does it feel like his heart is sinking in quicksand?
“Hey, you okay?” Yuko asks and Megumi snaps out of his not-spiral.
“Hm? Oh, yeah. I’m fine. So fine,” Megumi lies through clenched teeth.
“Are you sure? You’re looking a little pale.”
He dodges her hand that reaches towards his forehead; fans his face with his hand to feign feeling hot. “Must be dehydrated. I should grab a quick drink of water before we’re inevitably on again.”
Yuko nods understandingly though she purses her lips to the side as if in thought. She lets him go and he hurries to the sidelines where his drink bottle is stored. He takes long sips, the cold water sliding down his throat as he tries to get a fucking grip. Taking a few long breaths he puts down his bottle and runs back to join his team.
Just when he thinks the rest of the night will be normal — that the weird moment was a one off — Yuuji scores another touchdown and does The Thing again.
And again.
And again.
In fact, he does it every time he scores a touchdown. He manages to find Megumi each time regardless of where he is in the formation. In fact, he doesn’t continue the play until he’s found Megumi which means the crowd is left waiting while Yuuji looks for Megumi. His ears start to burn and he doesn’t know if it’s from embarrassment or from the smoke that comes out of Mai’s ears; each time getting hotter and hotter, burning into the back of Megumi’s skull.
A few times, he catches groups of people huddled together, whispering and pointing at him, male and female students alike and the attention makes him squirm. If Yuuji’s just trying to embarrass him, he’s literally going to beat his ass and try to withhold sex for a month (he probably won’t be able to stick to that).
Finally, the game ends and of course, they win. Yuuji’s hoisted into the air by his teammates and he takes off his helmet, shaking out his shocking head of pink locks, eyes searching. They land on Megumi as he’s doing their cutesy run off the field, shaking their pom poms and Yuuji does The Thing again, only this time he ends it with his fingers making a heart shape over his actual heart while grinning, sharp and wide.
Yeah, Megumi’s beating his fucking ass.
He maintains his smile (for now) but once they’re off the field his smile drops, shoulders drooping forward as he drags his feet to the change rooms. There’s never been a moment he’s more grateful to be the only male cheerleader than now because he gets to break away from the girls who aren’t hiding the fact that they’re gossiping about him.
When he enters the male change rooms, he bundles his change of clothes and beelines for a single shower stall, well aware that in the next few minutes, the football team will come charging through, boisterous and raucous.
As if on cue, the moment he flicks the lock for the stall door, the change room door slams open and there’s a whole lotta hootin’ and hollerin’, fists slamming against the metal of the lockers as they celebrate their win.
Megumi sighs despairingly through his nostrils, already done with their shit. Usually, he’s able to shower, change and sneak his way out of the change room when the team’s all in the, in Megumi’s opinion, a little gay shared shower stall.
He’s halfway through his shower routine when the team finally starts to settle and the sound of locker doors opening and closing begin, signalling that the team’s about to enter the homoerotic showering stage of the night.
“Brother, I couldn’t help but notice your interaction with the boring Fushiguro,” a gratingly familiar voice states.
It’s Todo, the team’s defensive linebacker, who Megumi despises because Todo had asked him once who his type was and when Megumi answered, he’d sneered, called him boring and has never let it go since.
“What about it?” Megumi hears Yuuji reply, the sound of feet slapping against the tiles loud in the background.
“I didn’t realise you were a ‘thing,’” Todo says with something accusatory in his tone.
“What’s your point?” Yuuji asks, his tone rising a little amongst the loud streams of water.
Yeah, Megumi’s not sticking around to hear the end of this conversation; can’t bear to think of Yuuji reducing their relationship to just friendship. It’s too much and he can’t be stuck in the fucking changing room shower stall as he holds back inevitable tears. He feels ill as he dresses, forcing himself to tune out the conversation as he rushes out the change rooms before the team finishes their shower.
It figures, really, that his first shift back at the cafe after his internship is over is with Nobara, because God hates him because he probably let the world run to ruins in his past life or something.
She’s usually fine, except for the times she’s begging him to attend a party, which occur weekly. Or trying to pry details of his private life out of him. Today though — Nobara is insufferable.
“What is going oooooonnnnn, tell me, tell me, tell me,” she whines from her seat as Megumi froths up milk for a latte.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You know what I’m talking about, don’t play dumb, twink.”
“Who’s a twink?” asks a new member of the peanut gallery, currently poking her head out from the kitchen.
Megumi huffs a breath between his lips as he pours hot milk into the takeaway coffee cup. “None of your business, Maki.”
He pops a lid on and hands the drink to the waiting customer who happens to be Yuuji’s brother Sukuna, though he’s never spoken a word to him in his life.
Said customer smirks at him as he grabs the drink and Megumi frowns.
“Thanks twink,” he says, raising the coffee like he was toasting and saunters away like what he said was something totally normal to say to a stranger.
Megumi stands there, mouth agape as Maki and Nobara burst into hysterics, cackling like a pack of hyenas and leaning on each other for support.
“Holy shit, that was hilarious.”
“What the fuck just happened?” Megumi asks, still in disbelief at the customer’s sheer audacity.
“I just got validated, that’s what,” Nobara crows, victorious. “Now come on, spill. What’s going on between you and Yuuji?”
Maki visibly perks up beside Nobara at the mention of Yuuji’s name and pulls a stool from the side of the counter. “Oh I am sat for this. I’ve been dying to ask since that little display between you two last weekend at the game.”
“That was so insane, I still feel like I’m tweaking over it,” Nobara gushes. “I’ve never seen him like that before and god, I was livin’ just watching those bitches on your teams’ hearts break.”
“Don’t call them that,” Megumi mumbles weakly.
“Just telling it like it is. Dunno how you spend so much time around them,” Nobara sniffs. “You could be spending time with us instead.”
“Okay, I’m getting a little lost in this conversation. What’s the point of this?”
His arm is suddenly yanked and he tumbles sidelong into Nobara who’s hugging him and fake sobbing into his neck. “I just sob want to know sob what’s going on sob with you and Yuuji and you won’t tell us. Aren’t we your friends?!”
Megumi squirms out of Nobara’s surprisingly strong grip and starts wiping down the front counter, spraying disinfectant across the surface. “You guys are Yuuji’s friends.”
“We can be your friend too, ya know. Anyway, stop deflecting!”
“I’m not deflecting, there’s just nothing to tell.”
“There is. Yuuji doesn’t shut the fuck up about you which means he’s in love or your ass is just that good.”
Megumi lets out the ugliest snort — the worst sound he’s ever made in his life. “Have you been inhaling too much nitrous oxide or something? Is that where all our cream chargers keep going? Because you’ve seriously lost brain cells if you think Yuuji is in love with me.”
Nobara makes an offended noise. “I’ll have you know I am not the main culprit behind the missing cream chargers. And HA!” she exclaims, a finger pointed at Megumi. “You don’t deny that your ass is too good which means there’s something going on.”
Maki, who’s been watching with amusement, covers her mouth with her hand and actually makes a ‘hehe’ noise. “I always knew that boy wasn’t straight.”
Megumi throws his head back in frustration, both at the girls’ prodding and at himself for falling into Nobara’s trap. “Fine,” he admits. “We’ve been sleeping together casually.”
“Ain’t nothing casual from what I’m seeing.”
“Well, sounds like you need your eyes checked then,” Megumi snaps.
“Woah, geez. Touchy.”
“Yes Nobara, that’s what happens when you try to pry,” Maki says, not unkindly.
“God, fine, you guys are so annoying. Anyway, have you asked him about it?”
“Asked him about what?”
“Like what you are. You guys are sleeping on the regs and then he pulls that stunt on the field — I just don’t believe it’s just casual.”
“Well, believe it,” Megumi huffs, annoyed, even though there’s an uncomfortable twinge of sadness that smothers his heart.
“Mmmm, nah,” Nobara says, with a finger tapping against her lip.
Before Megumi can question her, Nobara grabs his phone from out of his back pocket and types in his passcode.
“1, 2, 3, 4? Really, Megumi?” Nobara deadpans.
Megumi ignores her insult, practically about to divebomb Nobara to get his phone back. “What do you think you’re doing with my phone,” he asks icily, legs spread and bent, ready to jump if she tries anything.
She dangles it threateningly above a cup of dirty coffee water and Megumi knows it’s not an empty threat. Nobara is batshit insane. “Listen, you’re not as subtle as you think, pretty boy. You obviously have feelings for Yuuji and I will bet my perfect tits that Yuuji wants you too.”
“Maybe it’s a good idea if you ask him, Megumi,” Maki suggests, swinging her legs from where she’s sat on the countertop.
“We’re texting him because there’s no way Megumi has the balls to ask him that to his face, be so real Maki.”
“Ooooh, good idea!” Maki says, with a nod of her head.
Megumi hangs his head with his arms falling loosely to his sides. He doesn’t wanna cause a scene at his work, and honestly, maybe it’s good if he does find out. If Yuuji says they’re just friends then it’s fine, he’ll end it because there’s no way he can keep going on like this.
“Fine,” he concedes. “What’re you texting him?”
“Hmmm,” Nobara says, brow scrunched and tapping her chin with her fingers. “Got it!”
He leans over her shoulder and watches her type the start,
[Megumi 11:21]
Hey
Before Nobara can type the next bit, Yuuji immediately replies.
[Yuuji 11:21]
Hey babe!!!!
How’s work?
“That boy is so down bad for you. He never responds to my texts,” Nobara says with a tsk and continues tapping away at his phone.
[Megumi 11:23]
It’s okay
Can I ask you something?
[Yuuji 11:23]
Of course babe
[Megumi 11:25]
We’re just friends, right?
He watches over Nobara’s shoulder as the typing bubbles appear and disappear. This happens for almost a minute before they stop. Megumi feels his stomach in his ass and a lump forms in his throat. Why was it taking Yuuji so long to answer? It’s a simple yes or no question. What if…what if Yuuji thinks they’re something more, Megumi thinks.
“Yeesh,” Nobara says. “Just out with it Yuuji.”
Nobara’s forced to put away Megumi’s phone when the lunch time rush begins, a horde of people filtering through the front door. Megumi immediately gets stuck into taking order after order, Nobara’s text to Yuuji all but forgotten. Half an hour later, the crowd starts to die down and he pulls his phone out to check if Yuuji replied.
“Anything?” Nobara asks, looking sheepish, hands stuffed into the front pocket of her apron.
Megumi sighs, his grip tightening around his phone. “No, nothing. I knew we shouldn’t have said anything, now he’s been scared off and — ,”
He’s interrupted by the loud creaking of the cafe’s front door, all but slamming open and is met with a distressed, frazzled looking Yuuji. He looks like he’d just thrown on the first pieces of clothing he found, shirt rumpled and pants mismatched. Yuuji’s head immediately darts towards the counter where Megumi’s spraying and wiping down the surface near the coffee machine.
“Yuuji? You okay?”
The distressed frown doesn’t leave Yuuji’s face and it must be something serious because that expressions does not belong on Yuuji’s face. Megumi exits from behind the counter to walk towards Yuuji who immediately gets up in his face.
“Are you breaking up with me?”
Megumi feels like he’s been slapped by the hand of God into the fifth dimension. What the fuck does Yuuji mean ‘is he breaking up with him’? What was there to break in the first place?
“W-What? What are you talking about?”
Yuuji pulls out his phone and rereads his message. “’We’re just friends, right?’ That kinda sounds like you’re breaking up with me,” he says, his tone not quite angry and more sad than anything.
“Wait, Yuuji. Back up a minute. What was there to break in the first place?”
The moment his question leaves his lips, Yuuji stills, frozen like a marble statue carved by the Gods, his expression neutral. “Megumi…you are aware we’ve been dating the past few months right?”
And then it’s Megumi’s turn to freeze, his brain turning to static. He throws his palms out facing forward with a shake of his head, eyebrows raised. “Wait, what?”
“You cannot be serious,” Yuuji says, incredulously. “Baby, all those kisses and cuddles we have. I send you flowers. I stay over at your place all the time.”
“I need to sit down,” Megumi says, and is thankful that the lunch rush has passed and the cafe is fairly quiet.
“Oh my god,” Nobara says, grinning so wide she’s like a Cheshire Cat and sipping on her peppermint tea with Maki like they’re watching the latest episode of a daytime soap. “This is hilarious. It’s like a miscommunication fanfic come to life.”
“Nobara, shut up. Yuuji, what do you mean we’ve been dating?” Megumi asks, his voice coming out pathetically shaky.
“Exactly what it says on the box Megumi. You think I kiss all my homies goodnight like I do with you?” he says, with Megumi blushing to the tips of his ears.
“Hold up,” Maki says, a palm up in a halt signal. “Yuuji, you know how I’ve known you forever?”
“What’s that got to do with anything,” he asks.
“Well, you’ve always had communication issues. Like for some reason, you’re great when you’re on the field but in real life, you’re hopeless! Did you even ask Megumi to be your boyfriend?”
At Maki’s question, Yuuji’s eyes widen and he’s silent, mouth closing and opening like a fish underwater. “Well — I mean, like. You know, I thought it was like obvious!” he says throwing out his hands.
Maki sighs while Nobara cackles in the background. “So it’s not just Megumi who’s the idiot.”
Meanwhile, Megumi has his head in his hands as he tries to process all this new information, like, he’d apparently been dating Yuuji for a few months now? Does that mean Yuuji likes him? It doesn’t hurt to ask right? Especially since they’ve apparently been dating.
“Yuuji, do you actually like, like me?”
Yuuji’s broad body turns towards him slowly and his face is so incredulous it would be comical if Megumi’s brain wasn’t a pile of half chopped up worms crawling around his head trying to string themselves back together.
“Did I not make that obvious?”
“No, you didn’t make that obvious!”
“I’m pretty sure I did!”
“Did not!”
“Did too,” Yuuji argues back petulantly with his arms crossed.
“Oh my god, this is so painful. Yuuji just ask Megumi out properly you nitwit,” Maki huffs, with a roll of her eyes.
Yuuji grins and takes a few steps forward towards Megumi who’s still seated on a chair. He goes down on one knee and Megumi’s heart halts. But before he can stop Yuuji from doing something insanely stupid, Yuuji asks, “Megumi Fushiguro, your ass singlehandedly made me realise I’m not straight. I enjoy spending time with you and you look like a snack and a half in your cheerleader uniform and I don’t want to let you go. Will you be my boyfriend?”
“Yuuji, you are so cringe,” Megumi says, burying his face in his hands to the sounds of Nobara and Maki giggling.
He moves his hands away so he can look at Yuuji’s face who looks at him with the most puppy dog eyes. “Megumi? Do you not wanna…” he says, his bottom lip wobbling a bit and Megumi belatedly realises he hasn’t actually responded and Yuuji thinks he’s about to be rejected.
“No, of course I do! I’m just a bit shoc — ,”
And he’s interrupted when Yuuji grabs him by the waist and lifts him in the air like he weights nothing and spinning them both around telling ‘Yipeeeee.’
Nobara and Maki are both clapping and cheering in the background and Megumi finishes the rest of his shift feeling like he’s on cloud nine.
Megumi’s at another football game, performing their winning routine after Tokyo beats Nagoya University for the fourth year in a row, winning the whole season. He performs a perfect kick full basket and his bases catch his basket toss landing, striking their finale pose once the flyers are on the ground. The excitement is palpable and the adrenaline from performing a trick he had a hard time perfecting during practice courses through his veins.
Without thinking he runs out onto the field towards Yuuji and jumps. Yuuji turns at just the right moment to catch him and Megumi wraps his legs around Yuuji’s waist. In front of the entire student body, Yuuji leans up and Megumi meets him in the middle and they kiss, deep and lingering, Megumi’s hands cupping both sides of Yuuji’s face.
“Congrats baby, you played so well today,” Megumi says, grinning into Yuuji’s lips.
“Awww, thanks sweetheart. It’s cuz you were there; my lucky charm,” Yuuji replies, grinning up at him.
Megumi unwraps his legs from around Yuuji’s waist to stand and step away as his teammates flood him, hoisting him on their shoulders again and chanting “Itadori Yuuji.”
He walks back to join his fellow cheerleaders and watches on, embarrassed as Yuuji looks towards him to blow a kiss to him, making a heart sign over his chest after.
“You’re good for him, you know?” Yuko says, sliding up next to him.
“Thanks,” he mumbles shyly.
Afterwards, he and Yuuji walk hand in hand back to Yuuji’s frat house, where Megumi’s all but moved in when a thought occurs to him.
“Hey Yuuji. How’d you know I’d be a bottom?”
“Babe, please. No offence, but you’re a total twink.”
Megumi’s face morphs into a scowl and he goes to slap Yuuji’s chest, expecting it to draw an ‘oof’ from him. Instead, Yuuji catches his hand while laughing loud and bright and presses sloppy kisses on his open palm. Megumi forgives him because of course he does.
An urge swells within him; a bubble that grows and grows to a size that’s about to pop. He tugs Yuuji’s hand to signal him to stop and stares up at Yuuji’s handsome face, his angular jawline and bright violet eyes.
“Iloveyou,” he mumble-blurts, cheeks heating up and dropping his eyes.
There’s a moment of silence, and Megumi looks back up and sees Yuuji smiling — a soft smile — the one he now knows really was just for him. “I love you too, sweetheart.”
“So yeah! That’s the story of how I found out I’m bisexual,” Yuuji says to Geto and Gojo, throwing his arms up in the air and grinning like an idiot.
He looks over to Megumi who sits, stock still looking mortified for some reason. Yuuji looks over at Geto and Gojo. Gojo looks absolutely delighted and Geto is smiling like a cat that got the cream. After a few moments, he hears a splat and looks over to Megumi to see he’s just facepalmed himself.
“What? What’d I do?”
“Yuuji…” Megumi mumbles. “You really didn’t have to go into that much detail.”
“No, no Yuuji-kun. You went into the absolutely necessary level of detail,” Gojo assures, a shit eating grin on his face. “There’s no way we could’ve gotten that out of Gumi-chan, the little prickly bastard.”
“I’m literally sitting right here,” Megumi says, huffing out a breath. It’s so cute when he pouts, Yuuji’s going to die.
Yuuji decides to place a bet on his life and pinches Megumi’s cheeks. “You’re so cute when you pout,” and Megumi dramatically swats Yuuji’s hands away.
They’re interrupted by the sound of the front door opening and female voices calling out, “We’re home!”
“Oh god,” Megumi laments.
“Ah, Nanako and Mimiko,” Gojo says, standing up to give two girls, one with blonde hair and the other with brown hair, a hug and a kiss to the tops of their heads. “Let me introduce you to Yuuji-kun, Megumi’s boyfriend.”
Both girls narrow their eyes at him, squinting before turning to Megumi. “How did you score such a hot boyfriend?” the blonde one asks, not unkindly — more like intense curiosity.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“Language Megumi,” Geto scolds. “Lucky for you two girls, Yuuji is fantastic at telling stories. Mind recounting how you guys got together?” Geto asks cheekily.
Megumi falls onto the table, releasing a low, elongated sigh, muttering, “You’re just as bad as Gojo,” and Yuuji has no idea what the big deal is because he’d be delighted to tell the story again! He’s so proud of this journey of self-discovery that he’s been on and ended up with the prettiest boyfriend by the end of it.
“Well, you see —, “ and proceeds to tell the story again from start to finish.
The girls cackle and Yuuji beams, mouth wide and grinning as he turns to look at Megumi with a thumbs up. Megumi buries his head into a hand cutely, shaking it disapprovingly, cheeks flushed red, and Yuuji’s heart grows to twice its size looking at Megumi in his childhood home.
Yeah, he’s so gay for Megumi.
Notes:
And that's a wrap on my silly little story. I hope you all enjoyed it and if you did (or didn't) feel free to leave a comment!!