Chapter 1: Shattered Infinity
Chapter Text
The house was ridiculous.
Gojo made it sound like having this many people in a house was all about protection and financial stability, but now Megumi was pretty sure that Gojo had done all this just to brag.
Megumi had known Gojo was wealthy, but standing inside the three-story home, he couldn’t help but think this was excessive—even for him.
Sunlight streamed through the massive windows, highlighting the modern, open-concept design. It was the kind of place that screamed too much money, too much space, yet somehow, it felt lived in. Comfortable.
He carried a box of his things through the dining room, barely glancing at the furniture as he passed.
Across the way, he spotted Nobara in her new room, setting out a row of potted plants on the windowsill with a focused expression.
A small stack of unopened moving boxes sat behind her, forgotten.
Priorities, Megumi thought dryly.
Upstairs, Yuji was already settled in, throwing a colorful rug onto the floor of his room. “What do you think?” he asked, grinning as he caught sight of Megumi in the hall. “Really ties the place together, huh?”
Megumi didn’t answer, just gave him a flat look before walking past.
Gojo’s door was slightly ajar in the center of the hallway, and the unmistakable sound of kissing drifted into the hall.
Megumi’s eye twitched. He didn’t pause, just kept walking—though, admittedly, he rolled his eyes so hard he nearly gave himself a headache.
Of course Gojo was already doing that.
At the end of the hall, he stepped into his own room, setting the last of his things on the desk. Dark, minimalist furniture, no unnecessary clutter—just the way he liked it.
He let out a small breath of relief.
It was good. He was happy with it.
Or he would be, if his room wasn’t right next to Gojo’s.
Because now, the muffled sounds from the other side of the wall were way too clear.
Megumi scowled, flopping onto his bed and forcing himself to ignore it.
He was an adult. He could deal with this. It wasn’t a big deal.
Except it was.
Because it wasn’t just about Gojo being obnoxious or inconsiderate. It wasn’t even about the noise.
It was about the fact that Megumi wished it was him in that room.
And that was the real problem.
*
Gojo stood on Yuji’s bed, pressing the edges of the poster against the wall. “That straight?” he asked, tilting his head as he held it in place.
Yuji squinted, stepping back. “A little to the left—no, too much. Back a bit—yeah, perfect!”
With no hesitation, Gojo slapped the adhesive down, grinning as he jumped off the bed. “There. Your questionable taste in music is now immortalized.”
Yuji laughed, rolling his eyes. “Hey, The Cure is a classic.”
“Sure, if you say so.” Gojo smirked, shoving his hands in his pockets.
He watched as Yuji turned toward the window, gesturing excitedly. “Now I just need to get some curtains—”
The conversation cut off as someone grabbed Gojo’s wrist.
“Can I borrow him for a minute?”
Gojo barely had time to glance over before Geto was already pulling him toward the door.
Yuji just grinned, easygoing as always. “Yeah, sure.”
Gojo let himself be dragged down the hall, not bothering to ask what this was about. He already knew.
*
The moment they stepped into Gojo’s room, Geto kicked the door shut and pushed him against the desk. “I need to blow off some steam,” he muttered, fingers already sliding up Gojo’s back.
Gojo only smirked. “Stressful day?”
“Nah. Leaving for a mission pretty soon.” Geto’s hands tightened on his waist, his voice a little rough. “So let me do this.”
And then he kissed him.
The edge of the desk dug into the backs of Gojo’s thighs, sharp and uncomfortable, but he didn’t say anything.
It wasn’t like this was new.
Geto kissed him the same way he always did—hard, deep, like Gojo was something to be consumed.
Out in the hallway, movement caught Gojo’s eye.
Through the cracked door, he saw Megumi walk past, barely even glancing inside.
Gojo’s breath caught, just for a second.
He knew better than to entertain the thought, but he couldn’t help it.
Not that Megumi would ever look at him that way. Not that he should.
And it wasn’t that Gojo didn’t care about Geto. He did.
But Geto had made it clear—this wasn’t about emotions. He just wanted a body, an outlet, someone to use before he left again.
Gojo let him.
Because sometimes, something empty was better than nothing at all.
Geto pulled back slightly, his hands still resting on Gojo’s sides. “You sure you don’t want to come with us?”
Gojo huffed out a short laugh. “No thanks.”
Geto studied him, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes. “You’ve really given it up, huh?”
Gojo just shrugged, leaning back on his desk like it didn’t matter. “It's been a few weeks now, and... It's not so bad.”
Geto nodded slowly, like he was thinking about something, but he didn’t push it.
Instead, he sighed, patting Gojo’s hip before stepping back. “Alright. Guess I’ll see you when I get back.”
And just like that, he was gone, off on another mission that no longer had anything to do with Gojo.
Alone in his room, Gojo exhaled, running a hand through his hair.
He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be doing anymore.
But he knew one thing for certain—without the fight, without the work, without the constant purpose of being the strongest, the only thing left to do was to make sure his friends were taken care of.
And maybe that was why he kept doing this.
*
The front door shut with a soft click.
Through Yuji’s window, Gojo watched as Geto and Inumaki walked down the driveway, backpacks slung over their shoulders.
Geto didn’t glance back, hands shoved in his pockets, his usual easy confidence in every step.
Inumaki, beside him, gave the house a little wave before they disappeared down the street, off on another mission.
Gojo exhaled, tapping his fingers against the window frame.
“You okay?”
Yuji’s voice pulled him back, and he turned to see the younger man sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by wooden panels, screws, and an unfolded set of paper instructions.
He was squinting at them like they held the secrets of the universe, a screwdriver twirling in one hand.
Gojo smirked, stepping away from the window. “You sure that’s gonna turn into a nightstand?”
“I hope so,” Yuji said, lifting a wooden slab and flipping it upside down. “Otherwise, I have no idea what I’m making.”
Gojo chuckled, but Yuji didn’t drop it.
His gaze flicked back up to him, observant in a way Gojo sometimes forgot he could be.
“You don’t really like it, do you?” Yuji asked.
Gojo blinked. “Like what?”
Yuji motioned vaguely toward the window. “The way Geto treats you.”
Gojo stilled. He hadn’t realized he’d made it so obvious.
He rolled his shoulders, glancing off to the side. “We have a deal,” he said simply. “We help each other out when we need to blow off steam or… When we feel lonely. It's not really personal, so I don't mind."
"Really?"
"Sure. Sorcerers don't really have time for relationships. But sometimes it's nice to be with somebody, even for a short time."
Yuji nodded slowly, digesting that. “Yeah,” he admitted after a beat. “I get that. The loneliness, I mean.”
Gojo glanced back at him, at the way his fingers fidgeted slightly with a wooden panel.
Then, Gojo sighed, shifting to sit on the bed. He studied Yuji for a second before extending a hand toward him. “You want me to show you?”
Yuji didn’t hesitate. He dropped the screwdriver, stood, and stepped closer.
Gojo's hands were gentle as he grabbed Yuji’s hips, pulling him into his space.
Yuji braced a knee against the bed beside Gojo’s thigh, leaning into him, waiting.
He was nervous, Gojo could tell, but he was always brave—always willing to take the next step.
“Relax,” Gojo murmured, tilting his head up.
And then he kissed him.
It was soft, slower than anything he’d done with Geto.
Yuji was warm against him, careful but eager, his hands settling on Gojo’s shoulders as he leaned into it.
Gojo let it linger for a moment before shifting, pressing a trail of light kisses down the side of Yuji’s neck.
Yuji shivered, then let out a quiet giggle.
Gojo pulled back, smiling. “Ticklish?”
“A little,” Yuji said, his grin wide.
They stayed close, Yuji still leaning into him, their hands still resting against each other like they hadn’t quite figured out whether to pull away or stay put.
“If you ever want to do that again,” Yuji said, still smiling, “feel free. It was... Nice."
"Yeah?" Gojo tilted his head, amused. “Fell into my trap, did you?"
Yuji nodded.
"Alright, deal." Gojo squeezed his waist lightly. “But only if you promise to tell me if you ever feel lonely again.”
Yuji met his gaze, something quiet and genuine behind his eyes.
“I promise,” Yuji said.
*
Megumi barely had to step into Yuji’s room to sense the shift in the air.
Gojo was still sitting on the bed, legs spread lazily, while Yuji stood close—too close—in front of him.
Megumi’s sharp eyes caught the way Yuji quickly backed up, swiping at his lip with the sleeve of his hoodie like he was trying to erase whatever had just happened between them.
Gojo just smirked, his usual self, like he had nothing to hide.
Megumi exhaled through his nose. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”
Yuji, to his credit, didn’t look flustered for long. He grinned, rubbing the back of his neck. “No worries, what’s up?”
“I was just looking for those poster stickers,” Megumi said, crossing his arms. “Figured you might still have some left.”
“Oh, yeah—one sec.” Yuji walked over to his desk, rummaging through a drawer before pulling out a small pack and handing it over with an easy smile.
Megumi took them with a nod, but Gojo was already standing from the bed, stretching his arms over his head. “Need help hanging it?”
Yuji immediately vouched for him. “Gojo’s the best at it.”
Megumi hesitated. The last thing he needed was Gojo all up in his space.
But Gojo had already offered, and saying no would make it seem like Megumi was bothered by him. Which he wasn’t.
“Sure,” he muttered.
Gojo grinned and clapped his hands together. “Lead the way.”
Back in his room, Megumi felt the air shift again, but this time it was because Gojo was invading his space.
Gojo glanced around, nodding. “Nice setup.”
Megumi just hummed in response, grabbing the horror movie poster off his desk. “I was thinking of hanging it here.” He pointed to the spot on the wall.
Gojo strode over without hesitation, pressing the poster up against the wall at Megumi’s eye level. “Like this?”
Megumi tilted his head, squinting. “A little higher.”
Gojo adjusted, his shirt riding up slightly as he reached.
Megumi’s eyes betrayed him, dropping to the sliver of toned skin exposed at his back.
God, he was pathetic.
Gojo glanced over his shoulder. “That good?”
Megumi quickly cleared his throat, snapping his gaze back up. “Yeah.”
Gojo let the poster drop, laying it facedown on the bed to apply the sticky tape. “So,” he said, keeping his voice casual, “how’d you sleep last night? First night in the house and all.”
Megumi shrugged. “Fine.” A pause. Then, because it was Gojo, Megumi decided to just be honest. “Are you always gonna be that loud at night?”
Gojo’s hands froze for a fraction of a second. “Huh?”
“You had another guest last night.” Megumi crossed his arms. “Had to listen to you two for over an hour."
Gojo turned red. He coughed into his hand. “Uh. Sorry. I’ll be more considerate.”
Megumi debated letting it go, but curiosity won out. “Was that Geto in there?” He hesitated, shifting his weight. “Because it kinda sounded like Inumaki. But I thought you and Geto were a thing..?"
Gojo didn’t answer right away. He glanced down at the poster, rubbing the edge of it between his fingers. Then, he sighed. “Yeah. It was Toge.”
Megumi shook his head, completely unapologetic as he muttered, “You trying to win a competition or something?"
"No." Gojo picked up the poster, pressing it back onto the wall with ease. “I’m just trying to be helpful to everyone.”
Megumi gave him a flat look. “Helpful, huh?"
"Yeah. As much as I can be." Gojo grinned, patting the poster down. “Being a paper tiger and all."
Megumi hated when he talked like that.
As if being the strongest was the only thing that gave Gojo any real value.
As if simply being Satoru Gojo wasn't more than enough.
Megumi decided to drop it. “Whatever,” he said, waving a hand dismissively. “Just stick it.”
Gojo did, stepping back to admire his work.
Then, without warning, he turned, closing the space between them in a slow, easy movement.
Megumi didn’t back away.
Gojo’s fingers ran lightly up his arm, a soft touch that sent heat rushing to Megumi’s face.
“You know,” Gojo murmured, voice lower, “you’re free to knock on my door whenever you want, too."
Megumi’s heart stuttered.
For a split second, he actually considered it.
But then reality settled in, sharp and bitter.
He wasn’t like the others.
He didn’t want to be just another name on Gojo’s list.
He wanted to be the only one.
Megumi swallowed hard, forcing himself to move.
He shoved Gojo back—gently, but firmly. “No thanks,” he muttered, looking anywhere but his stupidly pretty face.
Gojo blinked, then gave a small, knowing smile. "Alright. Well... If you change your mind?"
Megumi clenched his jaw, gripping the edge of his desk to keep his hands from shaking.
“Get out,” he said, voice even.
Gojo didn’t push. He just gave a small nod, then stepped out of the room.
Megumi let out a slow breath, staring at the poster Gojo had just helped him hang.
He was so screwed.
*
The next morning, Megumi trudged downstairs, still half-asleep, making a beeline for the kitchen.
The coffee pot was already set up—probably Yuji’s doing—so he pressed the button and leaned against the counter, waiting for it to brew.
The scent of coffee filled the kitchen, warm and grounding, but Megumi’s brain still felt sluggish, his thoughts moving too slow for his liking.
Then the front door flew open.
Loud voices filled the house, shattering the morning quiet.
Gojo and Nobara walked in, mid-conversation, looking like they’d just come back from the gym.
Gojo’s shirt was clinging to his chest in a way that was definitely not helping Megumi’s brain function properly, and Nobara had her jacket slung over one shoulder, her face flushed from exertion.
“…so I’m free this afternoon if you wanna get some training in,” Gojo was saying, tossing a water bottle from one hand to the other as he walked inside. “We can work on your cursed techniques or just some close combat stuff if you want."
Nobara beamed, tossing her jacket onto the couch. “Seriously? That would be great—thank you.”
“No problem,” Gojo said easily, rolling his shoulders.
“Oh, and you’ll still have time to help me with my laundry, right?”
Gojo blinked. “...Laundry?”
Nobara gave him a look. “Yeah? Remember? I figured I’d do it while Inumaki and Geto are gone since their rooms are right next to the laundry room, and I feel bad making them listen to all that noise.”
Gojo’s lips parted slightly in realization. “Ah. Right. Laundry. Of course.”
Nobara grinned, stepping up on her toes to kiss his cheek. “You’re the best.” Then she turned toward the hallway, catching sight of Megumi in the kitchen. “Morning, Fushi.”
Megumi barely managed a nod in response.
The truth was, he couldn’t stop staring.
Gojo was a mess—sweaty, glowing, his clothes too tight in a way that made Megumi’s stomach feel unsteady.
His sweatpants hung low on his hips, his compression shirt clinging in a way that felt unfair, and his hair was slightly damp, pushed back from his forehead.
Megumi quickly looked away, flipping open the newspaper that had been left on the counter like he actually cared about reading it.
Gojo stepped into the kitchen next, smiling. “You make enough coffee to share?”
Megumi forced himself to shrug. “Yeah.”
Gojo hummed, stepping closer—too close, right into Megumi’s space.
Before Megumi could react, Gojo reached out, tilting his chin up with two fingers. “You okay?” Gojo asked softly, studying him. “You’re quiet.”
Megumi froze.
His pulse hammered in his throat, his mind scrambling for something to say—anything—but all he could focus on was how close Gojo was, how warm his skin felt, how easy it would be to lean into his touch.
Then the coffee pot dinged.
Megumi jolted, shoving Gojo’s hand away and stepping past him, grabbing two mugs and pouring the coffee in record time.
He shoved one toward Gojo, barely making eye contact.
Gojo took the cup, watching him with something unreadable in his expression. “Thanks,” he said.
Megumi nodded, keeping his eyes on his own coffee.
But Gojo didn’t step back.
Instead, he tilted his head slightly, still watching Megumi like he was trying to figure something out.
“Did I do something to upset you?”
Megumi’s grip tightened on his mug. “No,” he said quickly.
Then, before Gojo could say anything else, he turned on his heel and headed back toward the stairs.
Gojo watched him go, frowning slightly as he took a sip of his coffee.
*
Gojo sat at the dining room table, hands sprawled out in front of him as Nobara carefully painted his nails black.
"Sorry to interrupt, but." Gojo asked softly, "You sure this isn't too much..?"
“I’m making you look hot,” she said confidently, tongue peeking out in concentration as she carefully stroked the polish across his fingernails.
Gojo smirked. “Oh? And here I thought I already was hot.”
Nobara rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, but this adds edge. Mystery. Sex appeal.”
“Ah,” Gojo hummed, wiggling his fingers dramatically. “Well, who am I to turn down more sex appeal?”
She laughed, dipping the brush back into the polish. “Anyway, I’m so excited for my next mission. They’re partnering me with Maki this time.”
Gojo hummed in approval. “Maki’s a solid teammate. You two’ll be a good pair.”
“Right?” Nobara grinned. “It’s just fun going on missions with other girls, you know? No offense, but guys are so exhausting.”
Gojo chuckled, but before he could reply, footsteps caught their attention.
Yuji and Megumi walked past, both dressed suspiciously nicely.
Nobara immediately turned, whistling. “Damn, where are you two going dressed like that?”
Yuji spun on his heel with a giggle, showing off his outfit. “We have to drop off our mission report at the school.”
Nobara made a dramatic tch sound. “What a waste of a good fit.”
Megumi, however, barely looked at her. His attention flicked to Gojo’s hands, his brows furrowing. “What the fuck is she doing to you?”
Gojo lifted his freshly painted nails, wiggling his fingers playfully. “Nobara’s making me hot.”
“She’s adding a mysterious vibe to him,” Nobara corrected. "Chicks dig that."
Yuji giggled again, nodding approvingly. “Honestly, it kinda works.”
Gojo turned his attention to them. “Need a ride to the school?”
Megumi easily shook his head. “We’re just gonna walk. Thanks, though.”
Gojo nodded. “Call me if you need anything.”
Before they could turn to leave, Yuji hesitated, stepping a little closer. “Hey, can I talk to you really quick?”
Gojo was up in an instant, already serious. “Everything okay?”
Yuji nodded, leading him toward the front door.
Nobara quickly barked. "Don't touch anything, your nails are still wet."
Megumi, still standing near the table, watched them step outside onto the patio.
He hadn’t meant to stare, but through the window by the front door, he caught sight of Yuji stepping up onto his toes—
And pressing a quick, playful kiss against Gojo’s lips.
Megumi looked away fast, his stomach twisting, his hands curling into fists.
But beside him, Nobara just exhaled slowly, shaking her head. “Man, I feel so bad for Gojo.”
Megumi snapped his gaze to her. “Why?”
Nobara gave him a look, like she couldn’t believe he was asking. “Because look at him.”
Megumi crossed his arms, defensive for reasons he couldn’t explain. “I think he’s just lonely.”
Nobara rolled her eyes. “You boys are so unobservant.”
Megumi frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Nobara leaned back in her chair, watching the door. “Gojo has always been the strongest sorcerer. He was practically trained for it before he could even talk. He’s never had to think about who he is outside of that.”
Megumi shifted uncomfortably.
Nobara continued, voice quieter now. “And now that he’s retired? That label’s gone. He’s got no mission, no role. He’s just… Lost.”
Megumi swallowed hard.
Gojo walked back inside then, his usual wide smile in place. “Yuji’s ready to go,” he announced, looking straight at Megumi.
Megumi met his gaze, but this time, he saw him differently.
Saw him really—not just as Gojo, the strongest, the annoyingly charming, the arrogant.
But as Gojo, the man who had lost everything that made him him.
Megumi felt sick.
*
As soon as Yuji and Megumi stepped back into the house later that day, the low hum of the laundry machine echoed from downstairs.
“Guess Nobara finally got around to it,” Megumi muttered.
Yuji hummed in agreement, slipping off his shoes by the door before they headed further inside.
As they passed through the kitchen, Yuji suddenly stopped, his face lighting up as he peered out the window facing the backyard.
Megumi followed his gaze.
Outside, Gojo and Nobara were in the middle of a sparring session, moving across the grass in quick, fluid motions.
Nobara was swinging fast, fierce in her attacks, but Gojo dodged effortlessly, barely even trying.
Yuji grinned. “Good for her. Close combat’s one of her weak points, but look how much she's improving.”
Megumi barely heard him.
His eyes were locked on Gojo—on the way he moved, smooth and natural, like fighting was as easy as breathing.
Like he wasn’t even thinking about it.
Yuji must’ve been thinking the same thing because he let out a low whistle. “Man, Gojo could probably fight like that in his sleep.” Then, softer, almost to himself, Yuji added, “Too bad the sorcery world lost a fighter like that.”
Megumi hummed, still watching. “He deserves it,” he said simply.
Yuji glanced at him.
“He’s been a hero for so long,” Megumi continued, voice quieter. “He sacrificed so much. He deserves to just be a person.”
Yuji nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah. You’re right.”
Then, as if he couldn’t hold still any longer, Yuji suddenly jogged past him, heading straight for the back door.
Megumi sighed. Of course.
Yuji flung the door open and called out, “Hey! Can I join?”
Gojo turned immediately, grinning. “Perfect timing!” He motioned Yuji over. “You’re arguably the best at close combat.”
Yuji laughed, stretching his arms over his head. “Come on, nobody’s as good as you.”
Gojo only shrugged. “Well, that's not true anymore.”
Megumi’s smile dimmed at that.
He didn’t know if Gojo actually meant it, if he’d genuinely let go of that part of himself, or if he was just saying it to be humble.
But he hated hearing it.
Still, Gojo didn’t look upset. Or if he was, he was hiding it well.
Gojo let the other two start sparring, then turned, jogging over to where Megumi was still standing in the doorway.
“How’d it go at the school?” Gojo asked, brushing a hand through his hair.
Megumi nodded. “Fine.” Then, after a beat, softer, he added, “Everyone was asking about you.”
Gojo exhaled, tilting his head slightly before turning to watch the others spar. “Yeah?”
"Yeah."
Across the lawn, Nobara let out a frustrated groan as Gojo called out, “You’re dropping your elbow!”
“I know!” Nobara yelled back, correcting her stance and throwing another punch.
Megumi watched Gojo as he watched them.
His proud smile was effortless, his blue eyes bright with something Megumi couldn’t place.
Did he miss it?
Megumi wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the answer.
Gojo must’ve noticed something in his expression because, without warning, he threw an arm around Megumi’s shoulders, pulling him in close.
“You sure everything’s okay?” Gojo murmured, his voice quieter, just for him. “You’re quieter than usual.”
Megumi didn’t stop himself from leaning into Gojo’s side.
For once, he wasn’t going to be so difficult.
“Yeah,” he said softly. "I'm okay. Are you okay?"
"Oh, I'm fine. You know me."
Megumi leaned a little more of his body weight into him. "Satoru... You can tell me if something's bothering you. You know that... Right?"
"I know, I know. But I'm fine."
Gojo leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to the side of Megumi’s head before jogging back toward the fight, clapping his hands loudly.
“Yuji! Quit holding back!” Gojo called. "Yeah that's right, I can tell!"
Megumi just sighed, watching him go.
*
It was late.
Megumi knew he should go to sleep, but he wasn’t tired yet.
He lay in bed, scrolling idly through his phone, the dim glow of the screen the only light in the room.
His mind was restless, drifting from one thing to another without really settling on anything.
Then, without thinking, he scrolled past one of Gojo’s posts and immediately swiped back up.
Before he could stop himself, he tapped on Gojo’s profile.
Most of his pictures were exactly what Megumi expected—Gojo being goofy, grinning in every shot, usually with Yuji, Nobara, or even Megumi himself in the frame.
There were group photos from missions, pictures from late-night dinners, a few dumb selfies.
Megumi found himself smiling.
Then he stopped.
A photo of Gojo at the beach caught his attention—shirtless, sunglasses pushed up into his messy white hair, standing next to Suguru.
Megumi stared at it a little too long.
His stomach twisted, heat creeping into his face.
Then, realizing what he was doing, he quickly swiped past it, feeling a rush of shame.
God, what was wrong with him?
He exhaled, dropping his phone onto his chest, trying to will himself to sleep.
That’s when he heard it.
A sound from Gojo’s room.
At first, he thought—No. Don’t tell me Yuji’s in there.
But then he listened closer.
It wasn’t that.
It almost sounded like… Someone crying.
Megumi’s heart clenched. He sat up, barely breathing as he strained to hear through the wall.
After a few seconds, he was almost positive.
Gojo was crying.
Megumi didn’t think. He just moved.
He climbed out of bed, padding quietly across his room and out into the hall.
The house was silent, dark except for the faint glow of Gojo’s bedside lamp leaking through the crack under his door.
Megumi hesitated. Then he knocked softly.
No answer.
His chest ached at the thought of Gojo curled up in there alone, hurting.
So he made a decision.
He turned the handle and stepped inside, shutting the door gently behind him.
Gojo looked up from where he was curled up in bed, his face streaked with tears.
He immediately wiped at his eyes, his voice hoarse. “Megs? You okay?”
Megumi didn’t answer.
He just moved.
He crossed the room quickly, climbing into bed beside Gojo without hesitation.
Gojo blinked, his expression caught somewhere between surprise and something raw, something vulnerable.
But Megumi just wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close.
Gojo didn’t fight it.
He buried his face into Megumi’s chest, his shoulders trembling as Megumi held him tightly, rubbing slow circles into his back.
“It’s okay,” Megumi murmured, his voice steady.
Gojo shuddered against him, his breath uneven, but Megumi just kept holding him, running his fingers through his hair.
Megumi couldn't help but think of all the times growing up that he'd come to Gojo in tears, and Gojo had simply held him.
Asking for nothing in return, not ever.
After everything Gojo had done for him—raised him, protected him, fought for him—this was the least he could do.
After a few minutes, Gojo started to apologize, his voice barely above a whisper.
Megumi stopped him immediately. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”
Gojo just clung to him tighter.
Silence settled between them, softer now, the weight of everything easing just a little.
Then, after a while, Megumi asked, “Do you need anything? Water, or—?”
Gojo shook his head, then hesitated.
“Would you stay?” Gojo's voice was quiet, uncertain, like he was already preparing for rejection. “Just—just for tonight.”
Megumi froze.
Gojo must’ve taken his silence the wrong way because he quickly backtracked. “It’s not a big deal, you don’t have to—”
“I’ll stay,” Megumi interrupted.
Gojo blinked, then nodded slowly, his body relaxing just slightly against Megumi’s. "Thank you."
"Don't even." Megumi scolded him softly. "After everything we've been through? You don't need to thank me, Toru."
Megumi pulled the blankets up over them both, holding Gojo a little closer.
“I’ve got you,” Megumi murmured.
And Gojo let himself believe it.
*
Megumi woke slowly, blinking against the soft morning light filtering through the blinds. The room was warm, quiet.
And then he remembered.
Gojo.
Still in bed beside him.
Megumi turned his head, breath catching slightly at the sight.
Gojo was still asleep, his unruly white hair tousled against the pillow, his face relaxed in a way Megumi had never seen before.
For a moment, Megumi just watched him.
Gojo was always so big, so larger than life, but like this, he was just a person—soft, vulnerable, beautiful.
Before he could stop himself, Megumi reached out, brushing soft strands of hair out of Gojo’s face.
His fingers traced lightly along Gojo’s temple, his touch feather-light as he let himself take him in.
The sharp curve of his jaw, the way his collarbones peeked out from under the covers, the steady rise and fall of his chest.
Gojo made everything seem so effortless. Even asleep, he was breathtaking.
Megumi swallowed, heart stuttering slightly as his fingers trailed down Gojo’s face, down the curve of his throat, down his chest.
He’d never seen Gojo like this—never been this close to him when he wasn’t being obnoxious or loud or impossibly flirty.
And maybe, if Megumi let himself get too comfortable, he’d do something he couldn’t take back.
Before he could think about it too much, loud voices echoed through the house, growing closer.
Megumi tensed.
The door started to open.
Without even thinking, he tugged the blanket higher over Gojo’s chest, as if shielding him.
Then, Geto stepped in, his usual smirk in place as he strolled toward the bed.
He winked at Megumi. “Kept him company last night?”
Megumi felt his face heat instantly. “Not... Exactly.”
Geto didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t seem to care either.
He just leaned over Gojo, pressing a kiss to his lips.
Gojo flinched awake, eyes flying open before relaxing when he saw who it was.
“Hey,” Geto murmured, his voice smooth. “Mission was a bust—way easier than we thought. We got back early.”
Gojo sat up quickly, rubbing his face. “Oh. That’s… Good.” His voice was still groggy.
Geto started to sit on the bed beside him, but Gojo hesitated, glancing at Megumi.
“Can you just—give me a minute?” Gojo asked.
Geto followed his gaze, then looked back at Gojo with amusement. “Megumi’s free to stay, you know.”
He leaned in again, but this time, Gojo pushed him back slightly, firmer this time. “Just wait a minute, Suguru.”
Something flickered in Geto’s eyes—surprise, maybe—but he held up his hands in surrender, stepping back.
Gojo grabbed Megumi’s wrist, pulling him out of bed and leading him out of the room.
He didn’t stop until they were in Megumi’s room, shutting the door behind them.
Gojo sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Sorry about that.”
Megumi crossed his arms, looking at him. “You know it’s your decision, right?”
Gojo blinked. “What?”
“If you don’t want Geto treating you like that, you need to be the one to say no.” Megumi exhaled, studying Gojo’s tired face. “You need to start putting your foot down.”
Gojo hesitated, eyes flicking away. “…I know.”
For a moment, he just stood there, looking lost again.
Then, quietly, almost like he wasn’t sure he should say it, he admitted, “Sometimes it’s just nice to feel something.”
Megumi sighed.
The Gojo he used to know—cocky, full of life, always smirking like he had the world in the palm of his hand—felt like a distant memory.
Now, all Megumi could see was someone who didn’t know what to do with himself. Someone who was desperate for something to make him feel whole again.
Megumi stepped forward, wrapping his arms around Gojo without thinking.
Gojo stiffened, then melted into it, resting his chin on Megumi’s shoulder.
After a moment, Megumi spoke. “You’re free,” he said, his voice steady. “You're finally free to make your own decisions. But I hope, at some point, you’ll start making choices that benefit you. Not everyone else.”
Gojo let out a soft chuckle against his shoulder. “You sound like an old man.”
Megumi pulled back, giving him a flat look. “I’m serious.”
Gojo nodded, something sad but grateful in his expression.
Then he turned to leave.
Just before he stepped out the door, Megumi called after him, “Satoru—”
Gojo glanced back.
“…Don’t cry by yourself anymore.” Megumi swallowed. “If you need to cry, come to my room. Let me take care of you. Please."
Gojo’s expression softened.
A slow smile, small but real, pulled at his lips.
“I’d like that,” he said.
Then he left.
As he walked back into his own room, he took a slow breath, bracing himself.
Geto was already waiting for him, excitement in his eyes as he surged forward, pulling Gojo into a kiss.
“Missed you,” Geto murmured, hands already tugging at the hem of Gojo’s shirt.
Gojo hesitated.
For half a second, he almost listened to Megumi.
Then he let Geto pull his shirt over his head, let himself be dragged into something easy, something familiar.
And Gojo didn’t say anything to stop him.
***
Chapter 2: At Your Mercy
Notes:
As I said y'all, there's smut at the end of this one.
Trust me you'll know when it's coming lol, but if you wanted to quit before the smutty time, quit when you see 'Time seemed to blur'
For those of you taking the plunge, be prepared for a lil threesome blowjoby situation. Light breath play, but not intense.
Totally self serving, I'm writing this for myself at this point lol
Either way, enjoyyyy
Chapter Text
Yuji loved when everyone was home at the same time.
Which was why he went all out for lunch, piling their plates high with food and making sure everyone had a seat at the table.
It was rare that they all got to be together like this, and Yuji thrived on it. The more people in the house, the happier he was.
Megumi was the last one in the kitchen, accepting a plate from Yuji with a quiet, “Thanks.”
Yuji grinned. “Of course."
Before he could say anything else, Nobara’s voice rang out from the dining room. “Yuji! Knock it off, and get your ass in here!"
Yuji flinched, letting out a small laugh before grabbing his own plate and rushing after Megumi.
The moment Megumi stepped into the room, Gojo—already seated at the table—immediately pulled out the chair beside him, waving him over with a casual grin.
Megumi hesitated for only a second before walking over and sitting down between Gojo and Nobara, trying to keep his expression neutral.
But inside, for just a moment, he let himself feel special.
Geto was already mid-story, retelling the events of his latest mission. “Honestly? It was kind of disappointing,” he admitted, poking at his food. “It was over before it even started.”
“Ugh,” Nobara groaned. “The worst. If I’m getting sent out, I better get to punch something worth my time.”
Geto smirked. “Exactly. If I’m going to leave the comfort of my home, it better be worth it." He leaned toward Nobara slightly. "Plus, it was my first time working with Toge and I really wanted to see how his speech thing worked. But he didn't even need it."
Nobara frowned. "Lame."
"It's not a party trick, Suguru." Gojo chuckled beside him. “You wanted Toge to do all the work? You must be getting soft in your old age."
Geto shot him a look. “I will never be soft, Satoru.”
Yuji hummed softly, leaning toward Nobara. "Why would they send two sorcerers that strong for something like that?"
Nobara shrugged, taking a sip of her drink before answering. "I think they're just trying to be more careful after what happened with Gojo. Sending everyone off in pairs no matter how strong they are."
Inumaki, who had been quietly eating, reached across the table, gently taking Gojo’s hand.
He turned it over, scanning the black nail polish Nobara had given him the day before.
"Nobara did that." Gojo smirked. “Pretty badass, huh?”
Inumaki nodded quickly, then glanced down at his own unpainted nails.
Gojo immediately chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m sure she'd be happy to paint yours, too.”
Nobara perked up. “Oh hell yeah. You want black, or should I do something fun? Maybe purple?"
Inumaki tapped his chin thoughtfully, considering his options.
The table continued like that—light, easy. Laughing and joking, playful insults thrown back and forth, everyone comfortable in each other’s space.
It was strange sometimes, Megumi thought.
That a group of people like them—who had spent most of their lives fighting, risking their lives for a world that barely understood them—could find something this normal.
One by one, people started finishing their meals.
Inumaki silently slipped into the kitchen, gathering dishes as he started washing them without being asked.
Geto leaned back in his chair, stretching. “Anyone need the washing machine? Gotta get some uniforms washed.”
Nobara’s head shot up. “Shit—my stuff."
She leapt to her feet, practically sprinting toward the stairs.
Geto laughed, shaking his head before following after her. “Guess I should help,” he muttered, but his amusement was obvious.
Megumi just watched them, letting himself enjoy the domesticity of it all.
He barely noticed when Gojo slipped out of the room, until he caught sight of him in the kitchen.
Gojo was grabbing a drink from the fridge, but instead of leaving right away, he stepped over to Toge, wrapping an arm around him in a lazy side hug.
Megumi couldn’t hear what Inumaki said, but he heard Gojo’s soft response:
“I’m just glad you’re home safe.”
Then Gojo walked outside.
Yuji, still finishing his food, quickly moved seats to sit beside Megumi.
“You think he’s okay?” Yuji asked, voice softer now.
Megumi blinked. “Huh?”
Yuji nodded toward the back door. “Gojo. He just… Doesn’t seem like himself."
Megumi sighed, setting his chopsticks down to take a sip of water. “I don’t know,” he muttered. “Nobara seems to have an opinion about it. Maybe you should ask her.”
Yuji studied him for a second before nodding. He picked up his plate, standing to take it into the kitchen.
But before he left, he casually said, “I just thought you might know. Since you’re the closest to him.”
Megumi blinked.
Yuji didn’t wait for a response, heading into the kitchen.
He nudged Inumaki with his hip. “Oi. You just got back from a mission—go relax. I’ll finish up.”
Inumaki didn’t argue, drying off his hands before slipping away. He had a grateful expression on his face, and that was more than enough thanks for Yuji.
Megumi sat there, Yuji’s words still rattling in his head.
The closest to him.
Was that really true?
With a sigh, he stood, carrying his own plate into the sink to pass it off to Yuji.
Megumi lingered there for a moment, glancing out the window.
Gojo was sitting outside in one of the patio chairs, sunglasses on his face, sipping his drink, completely at ease.
Megumi couldn’t help but smile.
It was rare to see him so calm.
But when Megumi turned away to make himself a cup of tea, he wasn’t expecting the sharp twist in his chest when he turned back.
He'd only been looking down for a minute, putting a tea bag in an empty cup and pushing the start button on the electric tea kettle.
Glancing back up to look outside the window, Inumaki was outside now—sitting on Gojo’s lap.
Megumi’s breath caught.
Gojo reached up, hooking a single finger into the collar of Toge’s shirt, tugging it down just slightly—just enough to lean in, pressing a soft kiss against his lips.
Megumi froze.
Was Gojo kidding with this shit? Every single person in the house?
Everyone but Megumi, it seemed.
Inumaki melted into the kiss immediately, his hands cradling Gojo’s face, their lips moving slow and unhurried.
It was tender. It was intimate.
It was the kind of kiss that spoke of familiarity, of comfort, of the kind of relationship Megumi didn’t have with Gojo.
Megumi hated how long he watched.
Hated how his stomach twisted at the sight.
It almost made him feel sick, watching Gojo pull away just enough to whisper something into Toge’s ear, making him laugh before pulling him back in.
Megumi clenched his jaw.
He turned away, having to practically force himself not to look.
The tea kettle clicked when it was done, and Megumi quickly poured some of the hot water into his mug, marching himself up the stairs to lock himself in his room.
He told himself it was just because he wanted Gojo to take better care of himself.
But deep down, he knew the truth.
He wished Gojo would kiss him like that.
And that made him feel so guilty.
*
The sun was beginning to set, casting golden light over the front of the house as Nobara stood by the car, preparing to leave for her mission.
Yuji eagerly took her bags, tossing them into the trunk like they weighed nothing, all while chatting animatedly about how she should bring him back something cool from wherever she was going.
Nobara just rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. You’re lucky I like you, or I’d tell you to shut up right now.”
Yuji laughed, unbothered.
Meanwhile, Nobara walked back toward the front door where Megumi and Gojo were waiting to say goodbye.
Nobara turned to Megumi first, pulling him in for a quick hug. “Call me if you need anything,” she murmured against his shoulder.
Megumi just nodded, patting her back before stepping away. “Be safe. Let me know when you make it to the train station."
"I will."
Nobara then turned to Gojo, giving him a longer, tighter hug, like she was trying to squeeze something into him that words couldn’t express.
“I’ll be back in a few days, hopefully,” she said, pulling back and nudging his chin lightly with her fingers. “Promise you’ll text me?”
Gojo gave her an easy smile, tilting his head. “You're demanding attention from me? I’m honored.”
She scowled, grabbing the front of his shirt in a fist before yanking him slightly forward. “Promise.”
Gojo chuckled, finally nodding. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll text you. Don't let Yuji crash my car."
Satisfied, she let go, stepping back toward the car. "I'll try."
Gojo leaned against the doorframe, calling after her, “Tell Maki I say hi.”
Nobara gave him a casual wave over her shoulder, climbing into the passenger seat.
Yuji flashed a grin at them through the driver’s window, then with the rev of an engine, they were gone.
Megumi and Gojo stood in the doorway, watching as the car disappeared down the street.
Gojo exhaled slowly, before turning to head back inside.
Then, with a light shrug, he turned to Megumi. “So, what’s the plan for tonight?”
Megumi barely glanced at him. “Nothing much. Probably just reading.”
Gojo made a face, stuffing his hands into his pockets as they started up the stairs together. “You need a hobby.”
“I have a hobby.”
“Reading doesn’t count.”
Megumi scoffed. “That’s an ignorant take.”
Gojo just smirked. “You know what’s better than reading? Watching a movie with your very cool and extremely entertaining housemate.”
"Let me guess." Megumi glanced at him. “You?”
Gojo grinned. “Obviously.”
Megumi huffed, shaking his head, but Gojo just nudged his shoulder as they walked, teasing him the whole way down the hall.
“Come on,” Gojo continued. “We can even watch something boring that you’ll like—”
But the moment he opened his bedroom door, the mood shifted.
Geto was standing inside, hands in his pockets, waiting.
Geto met Gojo's eyes with a grin. "Hey. You got a few minutes?"
"Oh." Gojo glanced back at Megumi. "Megs and I were gonna--"
"I'll be quick." Geto assured him.
Gojo sighed softly. He glanced at Megumi and immediately gave him a smile, stepping into his usual casual act. “I’ll come get you later,” he said easily. "Okay?"
Megumi didn’t respond.
Didn’t hesitate. He just turned and walked away.
His heart gave another twist, the same one he was getting used to feeling whenever Gojo chose someone else—whenever Gojo made himself unattainable again.
Megumi was so tired of it.
He knew he needed to talk to Gojo about it. He needed to say something.
But he just wasn’t brave enough.
Not yet.
*
Megumi sat on his bed, book open in his lap, but he wasn’t reading.
He couldn’t.
Not when the sounds from Gojo’s room were bleeding through the wall—giggles, hushed voices, the unmistakable sounds of lips meeting, of bodies shifting on the mattress.
Megumi exhaled sharply through his nose, snapping his book shut.
He couldn’t do this. Not tonight.
It was practically a new form of torture. Having to sit here night after night, listening to the man he was falling in love with, being touched by someone else.
With a frustrated sigh, he got up and walked downstairs, heading straight for the kitchen.
Yuji wasn't back from dropping Nobara off at the train station yet, but Megumi desperately needed a distraction.
His eyes landed on the half-empty bottle of vodka on the counter, left over from one of Nobara’s drinking nights.
He grabbed it without thinking. He hated alcohol, but he didn't know what else to do.
Back in his room, he sat on the bed, twisting the cap off and taking a slow sip. It burned, but he welcomed it.
Maybe this will help. Maybe he wouldn’t have to feel his heart stinging so much.
But it didn’t dull the pain as much as he had hoped.
All it did was make him brave.
And possibly stupid.
The sounds next door continued, and every laugh, every muffled moan, every shift of the bed only made it worse.
Only a few shots in, he snapped.
He got up, walking out of his room with no real plan.
He just moved, body hot with frustration, irritation—desperation. He found himself in the bathroom, gripping the sink as he stared at himself in the mirror.
His reflection looked unimpressed.
You’ll never get what you want if you keep your mouth shut.
He knew that. He knew.
He couldn’t exactly blame Gojo for acting like this—not when Megumi had never once been honest with him about how he felt.
Megumi could barely be honest with himself about how he felt for Gojo. Let alone telling him.
He ran a hand over his face, sighing.
And then, before he even knew what he was doing, he was standing outside Gojo’s door.
He hesitated.
Then he knocked—once, firm—before pushing the door open without waiting.
Gojo immediately shoved Geto off of him, sitting up quickly. “Megumi?” His voice was sharp, but there was an immediate note of concern. “What's--? Are you okay?”
Megumi shut the door behind him, his heart thudding against his ribs as he watched them scramble to pull their pants back up.
He didn't know where the fuck this plan came from, but at this point he would accept some of Gojo, as opposed to none at all.
And if this was how he had to do it? He was willing.
He didn’t even look at Gojo as he took another brave step into the room.
Instead, his eyes locked onto Geto, and for the first time, he spoke without thinking.
“… Still okay if I join?”
A beat of silence.
Gojo immediately turned to him, brow furrowed. “Shit, Megs, have you been drink—?”
"Hush." Geto interrupted.
He scanned Megumi from head to toe, a slow, amused smirk tugging at his lips.
"If you're sure about this." Geto murmured, his voice smooth as silk. “I’d be more than happy to include you.”
Megumi swallowed hard.
He wasn’t thinking. He refused to think.
Instead, he moved forward, climbing onto the bed and sitting down near Geto, close enough to feel the heat from Geto's bare skin.
He knew Gojo was watching him—staring at him. He could feel it.
But he didn’t look at him.
He was afraid he'd lose his nerve if he did.
Instead, he turned to Geto, holding his gaze for only a second before leaning in and pressing a tentative kiss to his lips.
He flinched back immediately, eyes searching Geto's face with uncertainty.
Geto didn’t hesitate to chase after him, pressing their lips back together.
A hand slid around the back of Megumi’s neck, pulling him in closer, deepening it.
Geto kissed him like he knew what he was doing, slow but hungry, lips teasing, taking control.
Megumi let him.
He could still feel Gojo staring.
Good.
He wanted him to watch.
He wanted to show him that he could do things like this too, that he wasn’t just the quiet one sitting on the sidelines.
He wanted to prove—something, though he wasn’t sure what.
Geto pulled back just enough to grab the hem of Megumi’s shirt, tugging it over his head, leaving him breathless and shirtless along with them.
Megumi was vaguely aware of Gojo’s sharp inhale, but he didn’t dare look.
Instead, Geto pulled him forward again, until Megumi was straddling his hips, kissing him again, Geto's hands sliding down Megumi's back.
Megumi wanted this.
Didn’t he?
But something was missing.
Because it wasn’t him.
It wasn’t who he wanted.
Geto pressed slow kisses down Megumi’s neck, along his collarbone, his fingers ghosting along the bare skin of his back.
Then, as if sensing an opportunity, he turned slightly, smirking toward Gojo.
“Come on,” Geto teased, voice dripping with amusement. “Make Megumi feel welcome.”
Gojo hadn’t moved.
Megumi turned his head slightly, just enough to see him.
Gojo was sitting there, watching—his expression unreadable, lips parted like he wasn’t sure how to breathe. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, his fingers twitching at his sides.
He looked completely caught off guard.
Geto responded first, deciding to take matters into his own hands.
Geto reached for him, shifting on the bed to push Gojo backward, until he was laying flat against the mattress.
He turned back to Megumi, nudging him slightly forward.
“Satoru loves being the center of attention,” Geto murmured, his voice coaxing, teasing. “Don’t you, baby?”
Gojo barely reacted. His body was tense, his blue eyes flicking from Geto to Megumi in hesitation.
Geto leaned down, kissing Gojo’s lips slowly, like he was trying to ease him into it.
Megumi reminded himself that he was here for a reason. If he wanted Gojo to notice him, he would have to do something to get noticed.
Megumi took the opportunity.
He leaned down, pressing tentative kisses to Gojo’s bare stomach, his chest, dragging his lips over the planes of his skin.
He could hear Gojo’s breath hitch with every brush of Megumi’s mouth.
Then, as Geto moved to kiss down Gojo's neck, Megumi moved up.
Megumi's lips hovered close to Gojo’s, just inches away.
Gojo turned his head slightly, catching Megumi’s gaze.
For a long moment, neither of them moved.
Gojo searched his eyes, his expression cautious—soft. “Megumi,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper.
A question. A hesitation.
Megumi knew what he was asking.
Knew what it meant.
So this time, he didn’t hesitate.
He closed the distance, pressing his lips to Gojo’s, kissing him firmly, deeply.
And this time—finally—Gojo kissed him back.
And Megumi swore the world tilted.
*
Time seemed to blur.
Gojo's chest was heaving with his desire, as Geto and Megumi worked together to take care of him.
Geto had been surprisingly kind, fixing his pants on his hips before getting started. "We'll go slow. Let's take care of Toru this time, and if you're still interested, we can try more stuff out next time. Okay?"
Megumi had just nodded.
And then they were off to the races.
Geto's strong hands kept Gojo's wrists pinned to the pillows above his head, as Geto pressed light kisses and gentle bites to the muscles lining Gojo's shoulder and neck.
But Gojo wasn't even looking at him. His head was tilted to the other side, eyes locked on Megumi's mouth as it dragged down Gojo's abdomen.
Megumi's eyes flashed up every now and then to meet his eyes, looking up at Gojo through his lashes.
Megumi would've felt more nervous, if it wasn't so incredibly motivating to see how much Gojo was falling apart under his touch.
Gojo's eyes were half-lidded, mouth parted slightly as he stared at Megumi with those gorgeous eyes of his.
Megumi continued down his path, nibbling on Gojo's soft skin as he trailed lower and lower, leaving little bites in his wake.
He dragged his tongue down the trail of hair under Gojo's navel, before realizing how far down he really was.
Gojo's breath caught in his throat as Megumi reached the hem of Gojo's underwear.
They both froze, unsure what Megumi was going to do.
Even Megumi wasn't sure.
Geto seemed to notice, and he slowly moved from his spot, to kneel down beside Gojo's hips.
Gojo was already half hard in his briefs, and Geto leaned down to tease him further.
Geto pressed a firm kiss to Gojo's growing erection, letting his warm breath ghost over Gojo's cock.
Megumi's eyes scanned the reaction of Gojo's body, watching as his muscles tensed, and one of his hands shot down to tangle in Geto's long hair.
Geto looked back up toward Gojo, softly ordering him to, "Lift your hips, baby."
Gojo obeyed immediately, and Geto hooked his fingers into Gojo's waistband, slowly sliding Gojo's briefs down his hips.
Geto left them somewhere around Gojo's knees, as his hands slid back up to get a firm hold of Gojo's cock. "So pretty. Isn't he pretty, Megumi?"
Megumi's eyes were wide as he stared at Gojo's cock, slowly growing more firm as it rested against Gojo's stomach. "Stunning," he muttered.
Gojo's cheeks flushed, but he was still looking at Megumi, as if trying to gauge his reaction.
All Megumi could do was stare. Gojo really was beautiful under all those clothes, not that he was surprised.
Geto noticed Megumi's hesitation, and reached out to slide his hand behind Megumi's neck to tug him down to be where Geto was, eye-level with Gojo's cock.
"Come here." Geto spoke softly to him, which Megumi didn't expect. "Watch me. We're not gonna go all the way, not this time. Just remember, you don't have to do anything you don't want to."
Geto tried to encourage him, leaning forward and pressing a gentle kiss to the tip of Gojo's cock, just to tease him.
Gojo let out a soft moan immediately, incredibly sensitive to this entire situation. He was still a little shocked at what he was witnessing.
Geto met Megumi's eyes, and quietly asked, "Ever done this before?"
Megumi hesitated, but shook his head no.
Geto spoke again, in a kind tone. "Just follow my lead, okay? And if you get nervous, get back up there and kiss his neck, alright? He loves that."
"Please." Gojo whined, hating that his dick was hanging out while they were making conversation. "Stop talking about me like that."
"You gonna try to deny it?" Geto snapped, with a teasing smile on his face.
Gojo bit his lip, and didn't respond.
"Exactly." Geto turned back to Megumi with a wink. "He's such a big softie, I promise he'll like anything that you do. Don't be nervous."
Megumi could only nod, thanking himself for the liquid courage he'd had earlier.
Geto leaned forward to press another kiss to the tip of Gojo's cock, before dragging his tongue down the length of it.
Megumi followed him, leaning down and softly pressing his lips to the soft skin of Gojo's balls, sucking some of the skin into his mouth.
Gojo let out a breathy moan, that instantly reminded Megumi just how tight his pants are.
"Please." Gojo reached down to tangle his hand in Megumi's hair, as he whined. "Wanna see you."
Megumi was surprised at how quickly Geto moved, seemingly always listening and always attentive.
Geto backed off for a moment, just to crawl up Gojo's body.
He gave Gojo a quick peck on the mouth, before hooking his hands under Gojo's arms to lift him, forcing him to sit up a little taller against the headboard so he could watch from a better vantage point.
Megumi adjusted, crawling over on his knees to get himself centered with Gojo's hips like he was before. He leaned down to continue his work, licking a stripe up Gojo's cock like how he'd seen Geto do before.
Gojo nearly folded in half at the sensation, his eyes never leaving Megumi's face. "Oh fuck."
Geto decided to tease him a little more, sitting up on his knees and grabbing both of Gojo's wrists.
Gojo's torso stretched slightly, as Geto pushed Gojo's wrists behind his head, Gojo wrapping his fingers around the bars on the headboard like he'd done it a million times.
Gojo's eyes were searching Geto's face, trying to understand.
"He's new, so keep your big mitts off of him, okay?" Geto leaned in to kiss him a few times, whispering against his lips. "Do not move. Understood?"
Gojo could barely answer, because Megumi had decided to attempt to fit the length of Gojo's cock into his mouth. Gojo's only response was a loud moan, eyes slipping shut.
Megumi held onto Gojo's thighs as he slid Gojo's cock further into his mouth, taking it as far as he could without gagging.
He wanted nothing more than to make Gojo feel good, even though he wasn't very sure what he was doing.
He wanted Gojo to fall apart underneath him.
"Hey." Geto reached out to grab Gojo's chin roughly, tugging his face toward him. "Is that understood?"
Gojo quickly nodded. "Yes, yes." He breathed. "I understand."
"Good. And if I choke you later, you'll tell me if it's too much. Yes?"
"Yes." Gojo answered a little too quickly, his pupils dilating with desire. "Yes. Please."
Geto pressed a kiss to Gojo's lips, before dropping the hold he had on Gojo's face, and crawling back over to Megumi.
Geto seemed to have a similar idea about making Gojo melt, as he reached out to gently cup his hand around Gojo's balls.
Between the two of them, they were going to completely overwhelm this man.
Gojo seemed to be realizing that, but he was powerless against them.
He could only stare, slack-jawed, at the tongues and mouths lapping at his body, watching as he was consumed.
Geto softly spoke to Megumi. "Use your hand for what doesn't fit in your mouth, okay? Hide your teeth, and use your tongue if you can."
Megumi glanced at him, before listening to his instructions.
He wrapped a hand around the base of Gojo's cock, stroking it at the same rhythm as he was bobbing his head up and down.
He wasn't sure what exactly Geto meant about his tongue, but he gave it a shot. He focused on letting his tongue slide along the underside of Gojo's cock, tracing a large vein that he felt there.
It must've been the correct choice, because Gojo's head suddenly tipped back against the headboard, letting out a loud moan. "Fucking-- Christ."
Geto softly murmured, "perfect." He gently fondled Gojo's balls in one hand, as he moved his attention back up to Gojo's chest.
He leaned down to press a few kisses to Gojo's flushed skin, pulling his lips back to let his teeth graze Gojo's nipple.
Gojo's back arched up against him, as if his skin was chasing the warmth of Geto's mouth.
Gojo inadvertently bucked his hips up into Megumi's mouth, and Megumi squeezed his eyes shut as he took it.
He continued stroking the base of Gojo's cock, which was now slick with his spit.
Gojo's cock was larger than Megumi expected, but he made sure to pay attention to every single inch.
Megumi didn't want to stop, because he didn't want to seem like he couldn't take it.
He wanted Gojo to fall apart beneath him, and he wanted to be the cause of Gojo's pleasure.
Gojo slowly seemed to lose control, bucking his hips up and fucking Megumi's mouth, his cock sliding in and out of the wet warmth he was becoming addicted to.
"Fuck-- I can't." Gojo was panting now, sucking in air like it was running away from him. "You two are driving me crazy."
"Wanna make you come, baby." Geto latched onto one of Gojo's nipples, sucking it into his mouth harshly.
Gojo hissed at the sensation, his head snapping back down to look at him with wide, blown pupils. "Fuckin-- Please. Please, I wanna come."
He was practically squirming now, rolling his hips and using every last bit of willpower to hang onto that headboard like he was told to.
Geto was sure Gojo was going to snap that wooden board in half.
Megumi was still hanging on, letting Gojo's cock continuously slam into the back of his throat, feeling tears prick at his eyes.
Watching Gojo lose all sense of control underneath him was more than enough to keep him going.
Megumi's hand slid up and down Gojo's cock, occasionally dropping down further to massage Gojo's balls, feeling them tighten up in his hand.
Geto popped off of Gojo's abused nipple, sucking a few bruises into Gojo's chest as he moved across Gojo's muscular pecs.
Geto slid on his knees, back over toward Gojo's hips, softly speaking to Megumi once again. "Gonna make him come? You gonna take it, babe?"
Megumi slid his mouth off of Gojo's cock, lips swollen and red. He continued stroking the length of it in his hand, just long enough for him to sit up and meet Geto's eyes. "I can take it."
Geto briefly leaned forward, cupping Megumi's face with his hand and pressing an open mouthed kiss to Megumi's lips, sucking Megumi's bottom lip into his mouth.
"God." Gojo was desperate to get his hands on them, his hips squirming around absolutely begging for their attention. "So fuckin' hot."
Megumi pulled away from Geto to glance over at Gojo, who looked absolutely wrecked.
Megumi moaned softly at the sight of him, his hand working faster on Gojo's cock, wanting to bring him to the brink of pleasure.
"Ohh my god." Gojo met his eyes with his mouth hanging open, all of his muscles tight and practically waiting to explode. "Megs, please."
His skin was slick with sweat and spit, bite marks embedded into his flesh from both Megumi and Geto, and damp hair falling into his eyes
His abdominal muscles were tight, begging for release, while his biceps were tense with the pressure of holding onto that headboard for so long, but he was being so good. Doing exactly what he was asked.
With that beautiful image burned into his mind, Megumi ducked his head back down to suck Gojo's tip back into his mouth.
Geto leaned toward him, whispering in his ear. "Focus on your breathing. You're doing great."
Megumi put a hand flat on Gojo's lower stomach, as he leaned down further and buried his nose against the patch of hair above Gojo's cock. His throat swallowed around Gojo's cock as it began to swell and throb.
"Ah." Gojo's breathing was short and fast. "Fuck, Megumi. Holy fuck."
Megumi felt his own cock throb in his sweatpants, at the sound of his name rolling off of Gojo's tongue in such a breathy moan.
This was better than any wet dream he'd ever had.
Geto climbed back up Gojo's body, one hand sliding up Gojo's chest to wrap around the base of Gojo's neck, teasingly squeezing every few seconds, robbing him of oxygen.
Gojo's eyes were pleading, longing, begging. "Let me-- Please. Please let me come."
"Wanna come, baby?" Geto mused.
Gojo nodded wildly. "Please. Can I?" He groaned again, low in his chest. "Wanna come."
Megumi bobbed his head a little faster, his tongue tracing the underside of Gojo's cock as best he knew how.
Geto leaned down to whisper in his ear. "Come for us, Satoru."
"Fuck. Oh fuck." Gojo's head tipped back against the wall, his hips bucking up against Megumi's face. "Fu-- Come-- I'm coming. Megs, I'm coming." He spoke rapidly, like he might run out of breath.
Megumi's mouth slid off just in time, his hand jerking Gojo's cock through the entirety of his release, Megumi lightly coughing while it all happened.
Gojo's eyes rolled back, his eyelids slipping shut as Geto's hand tightened around his throat, only contributing to the lightheadedness he was already feeling.
Geto completely cut off his oxygen, leaning forward to press a kiss to Gojo's lips as Gojo released on his own stomach.
Megumi didn't know what he was expecting, but watching Gojo buck his hips up into Megumi's hand, his come splashing across his abdomen as Gojo completely lost control of himself, was a sight he hoped to remember forever.
He was pretty much set on jerk off material for the rest of his life.
Gojo was still moaning deep in his throat, letting go of the headboard and weakly pushing Geto away from him once he'd reached his limit.
Geto waited until Gojo's orgasm was completely over before he let go of Gojo's throat. He pressed a soft kiss to Gojo's forehead, whispering to him. "Good job, baby. You did such a good job."
Gojo smiled tiredly, panting heavily as he came down from what was one of the best orgasms he'd ever had.
He sat up a little further, grabbing Megumi's upper arm to pull him over. "Sorry, Meggie. You okay?"
Megumi wiped his lips with the back of his hand, and let himself be pulled over toward Gojo. "I'm good."
He collapsed against Gojo's chest, Gojo's arm wrapping around his waist and holding him close.
Geto fit right in to Gojo's opposite side, Gojo wrapping his other arm around him too.
Gojo pressed a kiss to the top of Megumi's head. "Goddamn... That was-- Fuck, that was so good."
Megumi sat up a little to look at him, a curious glint in his eye. But he was too afraid to ask if he'd done a good job.
"You were amazing, Megs. Truly, truly amazing." Gojo assured him, leaning down and pressing a chaste kiss to his lips.
Megumi let himself relax against Gojo's chest with a sigh.
Geto didn't waste time. He leaned forward to wipe some of the tears from Megumi's face, pressing a kiss to his lips. "Sweet sweet Megumi, that was... That was so fuckin' hot. I hope you join us more often."
Megumi could only stare at him, blushing a little under the affection.
Geto stood from the bed, grabbing his shirt from the floor and quickly getting dressed.
He tossed a tissue box toward Gojo with a wink, and Gojo quickly got to work clearing the mess from his stomach.
Geto then flipped around, leaning down to give Gojo a kiss. "Satoru, hot as always. I'll see ya tomorrow, okay?"
Gojo nodded, giving him a smile. "Night, Sugu."
Geto quickly crossed the room, slipping out the door and shutting it behind him.
Leaving Megumi alone with the hot, naked man from his dreams.
The reality of the situation crashed down around him, and Megumi took a deep breath.
What had he just done?
***
Chapter 3: Afraid to Be Yours
Chapter Text
The room was quiet.
Too quiet.
Neither of them had moved. Neither of them had spoken.
The only proof that anything had happened was the lingering warmth between them, the taste of Gojo still fresh on Megumi’s lips.
Gojo exhaled slowly, shifting beside him. “So… That happened.”
"Yep." Megumi responded shortly.
Megumi looked away while Gojo sat up to put his briefs back on, sliding a pair of comfortable pants on afterward.
Gojo sat on the edge of the bed, turning to Megumi with a smile. "Thought you'd hit me up to make out with me before you'd let me do something like--"
"Can we not have this conversation?" Megumi interrupted.
"Sorry, I'm just surprised is all." Gojo's smile faded a little. "First, you act repulsed when all I asked for was a kiss. Then, you come crawling into bed with me without any warning at all."
Megumi’s stomach twisted. "I-I know. I don't know what I was thinking."
"Oh." Gojo's voice became even softer. "Then... Does that mean that you regret it?"
Gojo’s voice was careful—too careful.
And Megumi couldn’t do it.
He couldn’t have this conversation, not now, not when his heart was still racing and his skin still burned from Gojo’s touch.
“No,” Megumi muttered, pushing himself up suddenly. “I need to—” He didn’t even finish the sentence before he was moving, practically rushing toward the door.
“Meg--?”
“I’ll be right back,” he called over his shoulder, already stepping into the hallway.
He didn’t stop until he reached the bathroom, shutting the door behind him and pressing his hands to the sink, gripping it tight.
He stared at himself in the mirror, breathing hard.
What did he just do?
His reflection gave him nothing—just the same blank, exhausted face, the same dark eyes that refused to show him what he needed to see.
Megumi squeezed his eyes shut.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to kiss Gojo.
He wanted to.
God, he had wanted to for so long.
But now that he had—now that he'd gone further than he ever thought he would—he wasn’t sure if he’d just ruined everything.
Because now the fear was creeping in.
What if he's just another notch on Gojo's bedpost?
Gojo had been with so many people—had touched them, whispered to them, let them crawl into his bed like it meant nothing.
And Megumi had sworn he wouldn’t be one of them.
Not unless it meant something.
His fingers curled into fists against the sink, his jaw clenching.
What if he's just another moment? What if Gojo wakes up tomorrow and decides it didn't mean anything?
Megumi’s stomach churned.
He had to face him. Had to go back in there.
But for now, he just stood there, gripping the edge of the sink, breathing through the sudden, overwhelming weight of what he had just done.
*
Megumi’s feet felt heavy as he crossed the hall, but he forced himself forward.
He hesitated at Gojo’s door, gripping the handle just a little too tight before pushing it open.
Gojo was still sitting on the bed, stretched out like nothing had changed, but the moment Megumi stepped inside, his gaze snapped up.
His blue eyes softened slightly, but the weight of his attention made Megumi’s stomach twist.
He couldn’t do this.
Couldn’t have this conversation.
Couldn’t let Gojo see the mess in his head, the way his heart was tearing itself apart.
So Megumi sat down beside him, careful to keep his expression neutral.
Gojo shifted slightly, watching him. “So… We should probably talk about that, huh?”
Megumi’s fingers curled into the sheets.
No. He didn’t want to talk about it.
Because if he told the truth—if he told Gojo everything—what then?
Gojo would either let him down gently, like a child with a crush, or worse… He’d start treating Megumi differently.
Like someone he had to handle carefully. Like someone he had to push away.
So instead of honesty, Megumi lied.
He shrugged, forcing his voice into something light, something unbothered. “I don't think it really needs to be talked about."
"You don't?" Gojo blinked. “Really?”
"Nah. I mean... What do you want to know?"
"Well..." Gojo looked confused, but he managed to ask. "Are you okay? Are we... Okay?"
"Yeah." Megumi nodded. “It was fun. No big deal.”
Gojo didn’t react right away. He just looked at him, unreadable for a long moment.
Megumi doubled down. “Just, y'know,” he continued, voice steady, “Let me know if you wanna do it again."
Gojo tilted his head slightly, like he wasn’t sure whether to believe him. “You sure?”
Megumi forced himself to hold his gaze. “Yeah.”
Something in Gojo’s expression shifted, like he had just decided something.
"You know you can be honest with me, right?" Gojo asked. "You're not gonna hurt my feelings. I promise."
"I said I'm fine."
Gojo stared at him, searching his eyes as if he could find the answer there.
Gojo sighed softly. A simple sound, representing all the years he'd spent dealing with Megumi's stubborn attitude.
"Alright." Gojo finally said. "You mind if I kiss you again?"
"Go for it." Megumi responded quickly, a little too quickly.
"And... According to you, this changes nothing between us... Right?" Gojo asked carefully.
"Right."
Slowly, Gojo leaned in, reaching up to cradle Megumi’s face in his palm. His touch was soft, fingertips barely brushing over Megumi’s skin.
Megumi sucked in a breath but didn’t pull away.
Gojo hesitated for only a moment before closing the distance, as if giving Megumi one final chance to back out, before pressing their lips together again—slow, deliberate, careful.
Megumi kissed back, but it nearly broke him.
Because this wasn’t just casual for him.
It never had been.
His fingers clenched in the sheets, his heart screaming that this was wrong—that he couldn’t do this, that he shouldn’t do this.
But he was too afraid to speak up.
Too afraid to lose Gojo.
*
Megumi was pacing.
Back and forth across his room, his breath uneven, his hands still shaking from what had just happened in Gojo’s room.
His mind wouldn’t shut up.
He had fooled around with Gojo.
He had kissed Gojo and lied straight to his face about what it meant to him.
Minutes ago, Gojo was naked and sweating in front of him, and Megumi had been brave enough to touch him, but not brave enough to tell him the truth.
He had wanted this—wanted Gojo’s attention, wanted his touch—but not like this.
His chest ached. He didn’t know what he wanted to do—scream, throw something, disappear completely.
Then, he heard the front door open downstairs.
Yuji was home.
Megumi froze for half a second, then immediately walked down the hall into Yuji's room.
When Yuji stepped into the room, rubbing his face from the long drive, he barely had a chance to look up before Megumi turned to him, eyes wet with frustration.
“I fucked up.”
Yuji’s expression dropped into instant concern. “Whoa. What happened? Are you okay?"
"No."
Yuji shut the door behind him quickly, then stepped forward without thinking, wrapping Megumi in a hug.
Megumi pushed at his shoulders at first, resisting, but Yuji didn’t let go.
“Dude,” Yuji muttered, tightening his grip. “What's wrong? Talk to me."
Megumi groaned into Yuji’s hoodie, struggling for a second longer before his body betrayed him and sank into the hug.
Yuji held him there, warm and steady, giving him a second to breathe.
After a moment, Megumi sighed, stepping back. “You cannot repeat any of this,” he muttered, voice low.
Yuji nodded instantly. “Obviously.”
Megumi dragged a hand down his face before sitting on the bed.
Yuji followed, sitting beside him, waiting.
A long silence stretched between them before Megumi finally muttered, “I really... I really like him. And I made a huge mistake."
Yuji’s brows shot up slightly, but other than that, he didn’t react. "You mean... Gojo?"
"Yeah." Megumi exhaled sharply, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “And it’s so stupid,” he said bitterly. “Because he’s never been serious about anyone.”
Yuji hummed. “And that kinda sucks."
Megumi let out a short, dry laugh. “Wow. Thanks for your help.”
“Just saying. That does suck." He hesitated. "So... What happened exactly?"
Megumi exhaled slowly, rubbing his hands together.
Megumi's voice was quieter when he continued. “Tonight, I—I don’t even know what I was thinking.” His fingers curled. “I kissed him. And I... Did a little more than that."
Yuji’s mouth parted slightly in surprise. “Oh. Wow. And... It didn't go as well as you thought, or something?" He asked carefully.
Megumi shot him a glare. "I'm not really interesting in discussing the details of my--"
"No, I know." Yuji let out a soft exhale. "Sorry, I'm saying this all wrong. I just... You like him, and then you fooled around with him, and..? I guess I'm not seeing the problem?"
Megumi let out a harsh breath. “And then, because I’m an idiot, I lied to his face and told him I was fine with keeping it casual.”
Yuji made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a painful wince. “Oof. Why would you do that?"
"I don't fucking know." Megumi groaned, dragging his hands through his hair. "Because I'm self destructive, I guess."
Yuji studied him for a second before nudging his shoulder. “Okay. So. You can fix this. You just gotta tell him how you actually feel.”
Megumi snorted. “Yeah, right.”
Yuji gave him an unimpressed look. “Dude. Come on.”
“No.” Megumi crossed his arms, looking away.
Yuji huffed. “Why not?”
Megumi pressed his lips together, then muttered, “Because if he doesn’t feel the same way, I might lose him completely.”
Yuji frowned.
Megumi swallowed, his voice barely above a whisper. “I'd rather have a piece of him, than nothing at all."
Yuji let the silence stretch for a moment before leaning back on his hands. “Look,” he said, voice softer now. “Even if he doesn’t feel the same way—which I highly doubt—you know Gojo. He wouldn’t just throw you away.”
Megumi didn’t respond.
Yuji smirked, elbowing his side. “I mean, you've always been his favorite."
Megumi scoffed. “Shut up.”
Yuji laughed, nudging him again. “But seriously, dude. Think about it.”
Megumi exhaled slowly, staring at the floor. "I just... Need some time."
Yuji sat up with a stretch, grinning again. “Alright. So, do you wanna keep freaking out, or do you wanna drink until you forget this conversation happened?”
Megumi shot him a look.
Yuji held up his hands. “Hey. I’m fine either way. I can't get drunk, but I will enjoy the hell out of watching you get drunk."
Megumi sighed dramatically before pushing himself up. “I left some vodka in my room."
Yuji grinned. “That's the spirit."
And for the first time that night, Megumi actually laughed.
*
Megumi wasn’t sure what they were watching anymore.
At some point, it had stopped being about the show and started being about how many ridiculous things Yuji could say before Megumi lost it.
They were sprawled out on Yuji’s floor, half a bottle of vodka between them, faces flushed with warmth.
Megumi was giggling.
Actually, giggling.
He wasn’t proud of it.
Yuji wasn't drunk, but Megumi found him much more entertaining in his current state.
And he could tell that Yuji was goofing off a little extra to cheer him up.
Yuji had just flopped onto his back, arms spread wide, declaring, “God... I would die for that cat.”
It wasn’t even a cat-related show. It was some awful reality show with fake drama and bad acting.
Megumi wiped at his face, still laughing. “You don’t even know that cat.”
“I don’t need to,” Yuji insisted, waving a hand. “Look at him. He’s majestic.” He sighed softly. "Goals."
Megumi glanced at the screen.
There was, in fact, a cat sitting in the background of the reality show. Unbothered. Ignoring the nonsense around it.
Megumi squinted. “That cat does look pretty cool.”
"I figured it out." Yuji sat up suddenly, pointing at him. “He reminds me of you. You've totally got a black cat thing going on."
Megumi rolled onto his back, sighing dramatically. “You’re so stupid.”
Yuji grinned, poking his ribs. “But you love me.”
Megumi shoved his hand away, but he was still smiling.
Then the door opened.
Gojo leaned in, eyes flicking over the scene before him, hair damp like he'd just gotten out of the shower.
His expression immediately shifted into something way too entertained.
“Oh,” Gojo drawled, stepping inside. “You two are hammered.”
Yuji beamed at him. “Gojo! Settle a debate?"
“I'd love to."
Yuji pointed at the TV. “Doesn't Megumi kinda give off a black cat vibe?"
Gojo blinked.
Then he looked at Megumi, who just sighed. “Please don't."
Gojo laughed.
Then, without hesitation, he pulled out his phone.
“Oh, this is going straight to Nobara,” he announced, hitting record. “Say hi, drunkards.”
Megumi groaned, reaching for the bottle of vodka to hide his face. “Don’t.”
Yuji just smiled. “Nobu! We miss you! There's a cat!" His smile faded a little, as he added. "And I'm not drunk. Sadly."
Gojo cackled, stopping the video. “Adorable."
Then, to Megumi’s surprise, Gojo walked in and sat down beside them on the floor, stretching his legs out with a content sigh.
“Can't believe you two started without me,” Gojo teased, grabbing the bottle and taking a swig.
Megumi scoffed, rolling onto his side to glare at him. “No one invited you.”
Gojo grinned. “Rude.”
Yuji leaned forward to rest his head on Gojo's shoulder. “He’s lying. We love you.”
Gojo patted his head. “I know.”
Megumi rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t stop the small smile on his lips.
They passed the bottle between them, watching the terrible reality show as Gojo made dramatic commentary about every dumb decision the contestants made.
Yuji was practically in tears laughing. Megumi hated to admit that Gojo’s jokes were funny.
At some point, Gojo casually threw an arm around Megumi’s waist, pulling him in a little closer.
Megumi stiffened at first, but Gojo just squeezed his side playfully, his body warm and safe.
He was making every effort to patch things up—to be goofy, to be close.
Which was more than Megumi could say for himself.
*
Yuji was gone.
Not dead—just completely exhausted, sprawled out on the floor of his own room, giggling into the carpet as the worst reality show Megumi had ever seen played in the background.
Gojo stretched his arms over his head with a sigh before crouching down and easily lifting Yuji off the floor. “Alright, party’s over for you.”
Yuji gave him a smile. "I'm not even that tired."
"Sure." Gojo chuckled, carrying him toward the bed and gently tucking him in. He pulled the blankets over him, then leaned down to press a soft kiss to Yuji’s forehead.
Yuji giggled loudly before rolling over, getting comfortable. “Night, Gojo.”
Gojo smirked. “Night, Yu.”
Then he turned back toward Megumi, who was watching from the floor, still sprawled out, his face a little pink from the vodka.
Gojo crouched down. “Alright, your turn.”
Megumi groaned, attempting to push him away. “I can walk.”
Gojo ignored him completely, slipping his arms under Megumi’s back and knees and lifting him easily off the ground.
Megumi sighed dramatically but didn’t fight him. He just let his head rest against Gojo’s shoulder, his body relaxing in his hold.
Gojo kicked Yuji’s door shut behind them, crossing the hall to Megumi’s room.
He nudged the door open with his foot, walking inside before gently setting Megumi down onto the mattress.
Megumi blinked up at him, drowsy and warm.
Gojo reached into Megumi’s pocket, grabbing his phone before plugging it in beside the bed.
Megumi watched him do it, his chest tightening slightly at his thoughtfulness.
Gojo turned back to him, leaning down to press a soft kiss against Megumi’s forehead.
Megumi smiled, his heart swelling—
And then Gojo hesitated.
For a brief second, Gojo lingered there, his breath warm against Megumi’s skin.
Then, slowly, he tilted his head down and pressed another kiss—this time to Megumi’s lips.
Megumi smiled widely, something so pure filling his chest, and before he could stop himself, the words tumbled out of his drunken mouth.
“God, I love you.”
Gojo pulled back slightly, eyes warm, lips curling into a soft smile. “I love you too.”
Megumi’s smile faded just a little.
Because of course Gojo did. He loved Megumi as a friend.
Megumi stared up at him, his head feeling heavy. Then, in his drunken haze, he softly muttered, “Promise me something?”
Gojo tilted his head. “Anything.”
“Never let me fool around with you and Geto again.”
Gojo’s expression shifted slightly, as he sat down on the edge of the bed. “Did you not have a good time?”
Megumi pouted, shifting onto his side. “I had fun,” he admitted. “But I only went along with it because I wanted to kiss you.”
Gojo blinked, caught off guard.
“I don’t want to share,” Megumi mumbled, half-buried in the pillow. “I want to be the only one to kiss you.”
Gojo’s lips parted slightly, realization settling in. "Ah. And... Why didn't you tell me that before?"
"Dunno. Scared, I guess."
For a moment, Gojo didn’t move.
Then, without a word, he stood back up to walk over and shut the door.
When he turned back around, Megumi was still staring at him, waiting.
Gojo slowly climbed into bed beside him, wrapping an arm around his waist.
Megumi melted, tucking his face into Gojo’s neck with a soft sigh.
“I'm sorry,” Megumi murmured, his voice quiet, his breath warm against Gojo’s skin. "I'm acting like a total idiot. I just... I have all these feelings trying to burst out of me, and they're like. Cutting me open on the way out."
Gojo listened.
He let Megumi babble, let him murmur sleepy confessions, let him breathe against him like he belonged there.
And as he did, something inside Gojo clicked.
Megumi was serious.
Megumi really loved him. Even though Gojo thought nobody ever could.
It would explain everything. The strange behavior, the jealousy, the way Megumi had looked at him lately, like he was the only thing in the world that mattered.
But if it was true...
Then Gojo realized how much of a jackass he'd been.
Forcing Megumi to listen to him fucking other people through the walls, practically flaunting his partners in front of him, never once realizing how much it must’ve hurt.
Gojo swallowed, his chest tightening. He held Megumi a little tighter.
Because for the first time, he realized—he might’ve actually hurt the one person in his life who had never wanted anything from him.
All Megumi wanted was him.
*
Morning came too soon.
Megumi woke up feeling warm.
It took him a second to remember why—to process the steady rise and fall of Gojo’s breathing beside him, the solid weight of an arm wrapped around his waist, the faint scent of Gojo’s cologne still lingering between the sheets.
His head was pounding from the vodka, but the ache in his chest was worse.
Because yesterday happened.
And now he had to deal with it.
Megumi barely moved, keeping his body still against Gojo’s as he processed.
His words from last night echoed in his head.
God, I love you.
I don’t want to share.
I want to be the only one to kiss you.
He felt sick.
What if Gojo had just humored him? What if he remembered all of it and decided that Megumi had overstepped—that he was too much?
Megumi squeezed his eyes shut.
But then Gojo stirred beside him, a soft hum leaving his lips as he shifted, burying his face against Megumi’s shoulder.
Megumi held his breath.
And then, Gojo’s sleepy voice murmured, “You’re still here.”
Megumi flushed.
“What, did you think I’d disappear?” he muttered, shifting slightly to glance at him.
"No, I just..." Gojo softly admitted. "Usually I wake up alone."
Gojo blinked blearily, still half-asleep, but his grip around Megumi’s waist tightened for a second before he slowly pulled back, stretching his arms over his head.
Megumi sat up carefully, rubbing his temples.
“Hangover?” Gojo asked, voice still thick with sleep.
Megumi shot him a glare. “Whose fault do you think that is?”
Gojo smirked. “Yuji’s. Definitely Yuji’s.”
Megumi sighed, pushing himself fully upright. “What time is it?”
Gojo flopped back against the pillows, squinting at the ceiling. “Dunno. Early.”
Megumi exhaled, rubbing his face.
He had barely even processed last night yet, but Gojo wasn’t acting weird. He wasn’t pushing him away.
Maybe he forgot.
Megumi wasn’t sure if that made him feel relieved or disappointed.
Gojo sat up finally, yawning. He ran a hand through his messy white hair, his shirt riding up slightly, exposing a sliver of skin.
Megumi looked away fast.
Then Gojo turned to him, tilting his head slightly. “You wanna get breakfast?”
"Maybe." Megumi hesitated. "Any chance you'll let me pretend last night didn't happen?"
Gojo grinned. “Nope.”
Megumi groaned.
Gojo patted his knee. “Come on, Megs. Let’s get you some coffee before you implode.”
Megumi sighed, dragging a hand through his hair before finally, reluctantly, swinging his legs over the bed.
Because whether he liked it or not—whether he was ready or not—this wasn’t something he could run from.
Not anymore.
*
Megumi wasn’t sure how much longer he could sit here, pretending everything was fine.
Gojo had been gentle all morning—making sure he had enough water, cooking breakfast, even offering a few pain killers for his headache.
It was too much.
Not because Megumi didn’t want the care—he did—but because Gojo was acting like nothing had changed, like they hadn’t crossed a line last night that neither of them could ignore anymore.
And whether it was the overwhelming shame of his actions, or this ungodly hangover, but he finally decided he wanted to get it over with.
Megumi finally looked up at him while they were eating breakfast. "Can I talk to you?"
The urgency in his voice made Gojo smile. "Of course. What's up?"
Megumi glanced at their other housemates sitting at the table eating, before he shoved back his chair, grabbing Gojo’s wrist. “Outside.”
Gojo blinked, caught off guard. “Megumi—?”
Megumi didn’t let him argue. He dragged him through the house, out the back door, onto the patio, shoving him toward one of the chairs.
Gojo let himself be manhandled, raising an eyebrow as he flopped into the seat. “For someone hungover, you're surprisingly aggressive."
Megumi sat across from him, gripping his knees. “We need to talk about last night. This weird silence about it is making my skin itch like I want to crawl out of it."
Gojo’s playful expression faded. He exhaled, leaning back against the chair. “Yeah,” he muttered. “I figured we'd get to it."
Megumi swallowed. “Do you… Remember what I said? I sort of dropped a bomb on you when we were falling asleep."
Gojo nodded.
But he didn’t say anything.
Megumi clenched his jaw, frustration bubbling up. “Well? Anything to say?"
"I just... Don't think it's fair to hold your drunken words against you. If you didn't mean to say it, then--"
"I meant to. I wanted you to hear it. So answer my question."
Gojo sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Megumi, I…” His fingers tapped against the armrest, like he wasn’t sure how to phrase what he wanted to say. Finally, he murmured, “I don’t know how to be anything else.”
Megumi frowned. “What?”
"I don't know how to be... Significant to you." Gojo looked away, his voice quieter this time. “Not being the strongest sorcerer means I’m nobody. So how can I be somebody to you?"
Megumi just stared at him. "That's some fucked up logic if I've ever heard it."
"I'm being serious." Gojo’s fingers curled slightly against the chair. “It’s all I’ve ever been. Since I was born.” His lips pressed together. “I was Gojo, the strongest sorcerer alive. That was it. Not a person. Not Satoru. Just a title.”
Megumi didn't know what to say to that.
Gojo's voice grew tighter. “And now? Without that?” He let out a humorless laugh. “I don’t matter anymore. I don’t have a purpose, and I'm sorta hopeless. I can't drag you into that, even if I wanted to. So just... Forget it. Save all that love in your heart for someone that deserves it."
Megumi felt like his heart had been squeezed in a vice.
Gojo leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “I was only fooling around with people because I didn’t want to feel so numb all the time. I just wanted to be helpful to them. If I could make someone happy, maybe I’d still be useful.”
Megumi’s fingers curled into fists. “Gojo.”
Gojo gave him a small, exhausted smile. “It’s fine, Meggie. Don’t look at me like that. I accepted my fate a long ass time ago.”
But Megumi couldn’t help it.
He saw the truth now—the Gojo that had been slowly unraveling, the Gojo that wasn’t okay, the Gojo that had been lost for weeks, and none of them had paid him any mind.
Megumi started slow. "Don't tell me what to do, okay? You've never been able to boss me around before, so don't start trying now."
Gojo smiled a little at his teasing, but his eyes were still sad. "Well too bad. You can't love me. I won't let you."
"You just... You don't get it. I don't care." Megumi's voice was quiet, but firm. “I didn’t fall in love with the strongest sorcerer, and I could give a damn what your career is.” Megumi swallowed, gripping his hands together tightly. “I fell in love with you. Satoru. The person."
Gojo’s lips parted slightly, like he wasn’t sure he heard him right.
Megumi continued, his voice steady. “Even if you never fight another battle again, you’re still you. You’re still the jerk who teases me, the guy who loves sweets too much, the man who raised me when he didn’t have to. The man that saved the world over and over again, and never asked for anything in return."
Gojo looked away from him.
He'd looked hundreds, thousands, of enemies in the eyes during their fights, but somehow this confrontation was too much.
Megumi just exhaled. “And that is the man I fell in love with. Not your power. Not your reputation. Just you.” He shook his head slowly. "You unbearable idiot."
Gojo kept his eyes down. “I don’t know what to say to that,” he admitted. "Why didn't you tell me..? I mean, yesterday. You... You let Suguru-- Y'know? And when I asked you, you said it was fine. Fun. Casual."
"Because I was afraid."
"Of what?"
"Of this. Exactly this."
*
The air between them felt different now.
Gojo had been quiet for too long, staring at Megumi like he was seeing him for the first time. Like he was trying to understand him.
Finally, Gojo exhaled, rubbing his hands over his face before resting his elbows on his knees. “Okay,” he muttered, voice quieter now. “Let’s say I believe you.”
Megumi raised an eyebrow. “You should believe me. I'm so uncomfortable, I can barely breathe. You think I'd lay my heart out like this to anyone but you?"
Gojo huffed a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Alright, alright. Let's say you're in love with me."
Then, slowly, he turned his gaze back to Megumi, his expression unreadable.
“What do you want from me, Megumi?” Gojo asked, voice careful. “How do you expect me to react to that?”
Megumi clenched his jaw.
He knew this was coming. He knew Gojo wouldn’t just accept it.
But he wasn’t going to back down now. He was too far in to turn back.
Megumi took a deep breath. "I need to know how you feel now. Are you repulsed? Dejected? Or... Are you willing to try? With me?"
"Try?" Gojo asked, genuinely. "After everything I just said, you want to know if I'd give a relationship a try?"
"Yeah. Basically." Megumi didn’t stop. “If I could be your one and only—if I could be enough—would you let everyone else go?”
Gojo stared at him.
For a long moment, he didn’t say anything. He just sat there, the weight of Megumi’s words sinking in.
Then, slowly, Gojo reached out, taking Megumi’s hand in his.
Gojo’s thumb traced absent patterns against his skin, his touch soft, almost reverent.
“You think so highly of me,” Gojo murmured, staring down at their hands. “But I don’t think I deserve it.”
Megumi’s breath hitched.
Gojo swallowed. “You’ve grown up into this incredible sorcerer. You’re strong, you’re capable, you’re—” He hesitated, his voice dropping slightly. “You’re amazing, Megumi.”
Megumi was practically holding his breath. He didn't know where this was going.
Gojo looked up at him, something so sad in his expression. “You could have anyone.”
Megumi gritted his teeth. “I don’t want anyone. I want you."
Gojo exhaled, shaking his head. “Megs…”
Megumi’s heart sank.
Because he knew what was coming.
“I’m not sure I’m worthy of you,” Gojo admitted. “Of your time. Your attention.” His lips pressed together. "Whether you know it or not, I know that you deserve better."
And that was what broke Megumi’s heart.
Not just because Gojo was rejecting him.
But because Gojo really believed that.
Megumi’s throat felt tight, his breath shallow.
He wanted to shake him, to make him understand that there was no one better. That Megumi didn’t care about anyone else.
But Gojo had already made up his mind.
Megumi ripped his hand away, standing abruptly.
Gojo blinked, surprised. “Megumi—”
Megumi didn’t give him the chance.
He turned and walked back inside, the door shutting behind him with a dull thud.
Gojo didn’t follow.
And that hurt most of all.
*
By the time Nobara stormed through the front door, she was already pissed off.
Her arms were bruised, her knuckles raw, and there was a fresh bandage wrapped tightly around her wrist.
She had barely been gone a few days, and Yuji had already called her, telling her everything she had missed—how Gojo and Megumi had finally acknowledged the tension between them, how it should have been a turning point.
And yet, somehow, somehow, they had managed to fuck it all up.
Because instead of being honest, instead of choosing Megumi, Gojo had turned him down—had let his own self-worth issues get in the way, like a coward.
And now?
Now, Nobara was furious.
She didn’t even bother putting her bags away.
She marched straight upstairs, yanked open Yuji’s door, grabbed him by the arm, and then went after Megumi next.
He barely had time to react before she grabbed his wrist and dragged both of them down the hall.
“Nobara—what the hell?” Megumi hissed, stumbling as he tried to yank his arm away.
“Shut up,” she snapped. “You’ve lost your talking privileges.”
Yuji just sighed, letting himself be pulled along. “Told you she’d be mad.”
Nobara stormed toward Gojo’s room, stopping only when she spotted him in the doorway.
He was doing pull-ups on the bar in his frame, his shirt riding up slightly, his arms flexing, looking far too stupidly attractive for a man who had made so many dumbass decisions.
She didn’t hesitate.
She walked up and shoved him down.
Gojo laughed as he stumbled back, landing on his feet but holding his chest. “Ow. Okay, that actually hurt.”
“Good.” Nobara snapped.
She shoved all three of them inside, slamming the door shut behind her before turning to glare.
“Alright, what the fuck happened?” she demanded, arms crossed. “I was gone for one mission. One. And in that time, you somehow managed to break Megumi’s heart?”
Gojo’s easy smirk faltered slightly.
“I heard everything,” Nobara continued. “Megumi finally tells you how he feels, and you—” she pointed aggressively at Gojo, “—reject him because you think you’re not worthy of him? What kind of selfish bullshit is that?"
Gojo exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s more complicated than that.”
“No, it’s really not.”
Nobara took a step closer, furious. “You and Megumi have had insufferable sexual tension for years, and we’ve all had to deal with it. And finally, you guys get intimate, and now you suddenly decide it’s too much?”
Gojo looked away, his jaw tightening.
Megumi shifted beside her, crossing his arms. “Nobara, just—”
“No, don’t defend him,” she snapped. “He’s a grown man making stupid choices. And I don't want to hear the opinion of the idiot who jumped into bed with the man he likes and some other dude, instead of just coming clean and confessing his feelings."
Megumi immediately smacked Yuji’s shoulder. "I told you that in confidence."
Yuji gave him a small smile. "Uh... Sorry. I was worried about you."
Nobara immediately glared at him. "You two, shut up." Her glare returned to Gojo. "How dare you reject him like that after he opened his heart up to you. You and I both know how rare it is for Megumi to be honest with his feelings like that."
Gojo exhaled. “I wasn’t trying to hurt him.”
Nobara scoffed. “Well, congrats, you did.”
Gojo rubbed his face, sighing. “I just…” He hesitated, his fingers tapping against his arm. “Megumi deserves better than a washed up has-been."
Nobara laughed bitterly.
Yuji sighed. “Here we go.”
“You are so full of shit,” Nobara snapped. “Like, I knew you had self-worth issues, but this is pathetic.”
"Goddamn. Harsh." Gojo stilled. "Tell me how you really feel."
“You love him,” she pressed, stepping even closer. “You want him. So stop making up excuses and just admit it.”
Gojo said nothing.
Yuji spoke up, his voice softer. “Gojo, your insecurities are pushing away the people who care about you. Are you seriously trying to convince me that it's better to have a bunch of random sex partners, than to win the lottery by dating someone like Megumi?"
Gojo’s breath caught slightly. "I don't--"
"Yes you do." Nobara interrupted him. "You're just playing the game, but you're not winning anything. Don't you want to win?"
Gojo finally glanced over, making eye contact with Megumi.
The sadness in his eyes was still there.
Yuji sighed, his expression more gentle now. “You’ve spent your whole life sacrificing for other people. First as the strongest sorcerer, and now, even in retirement, you still put everyone else ahead of yourself.”
Gojo swallowed.
Yuji gave him a small, tired smile. “But you’re allowed to be happy now.”
Gojo stared at them, something unreadable in his expression.
Then, slowly, his gaze flicked back to Megumi.
Megumi held his breath.
Because for the first time… Gojo looked afraid.
Like he was on the verge of admitting something he couldn’t take back.
It was a rare expression for him—one Megumi had hardly ever seen before.
The ever-confident, always-smirking, untouchable Gojo was sitting in front of him, looking like he had just been backed into a corner.
Because he had been.
Nobara and Yuji had stripped him of every excuse, every justification he had used to push Megumi away.
Now, there was nothing left between them but the truth.
And Gojo wasn’t sure if he was ready to face it.
Gojo exhaled slowly, finally speaking. “You guys act like this is so easy.”
Nobara rolled her eyes. “Because it is.”
Gojo shot her a look before turning back to Megumi.
“I never wanted to hurt you,” he admitted, his voice softer now. “That was never my intention.”
Megumi’s fingers curled into his sleeves. “But you did.”
Gojo closed his eyes for a brief second, then nodded. “I know.”
Megumi swallowed hard, voice tight. “I'm not going to force you. If... If you really don't want this, I'll leave you alone."
Gojo exhaled, rubbing his face. “I don’t know if I can be what you need.”
Megumi took a slow breath, stepping forward. “You think I don’t know what I’m asking for?” he asked, his voice quieter now, but firm. “You think I don’t understand what it means to love you?”
Gojo watched him carefully.
Megumi’s chest ached. “You say I deserve better,” he continued. “But you are exactly what I want. And you’re too much of a coward to let me have you. Too afraid to commit to anything real."
Gojo flinched, just slightly.
Nobara and Yuji stayed silent, watching, waiting.
Megumi took another step closer. “I don’t want anyone else,” Megumi said. “I want you.”
Gojo’s breath hitched.
Megumi stared at him, daring him to say something. To challenge him.
But Gojo didn’t.
He just listened.
Finally, after what felt like forever, Gojo let out a quiet laugh. “You really don’t give up, do you?”
“Not when it’s important.” Megumi’s jaw tightened. "You taught me that."
Gojo looked at him, something softer in his expression now.
Then, after a long pause, he murmured, “Come here.”
Megumi hesitated for only a second before stepping closer.
Gojo reached out, slow, careful, like he wasn’t sure if he had the right to touch him.
But when his fingers brushed against Megumi’s wrist, Megumi didn’t pull away.
Instead, he curled his own fingers around Gojo’s.
Gojo let out a quiet breath, like he was finally releasing something he had been holding onto for far too long.
And then, softer than anything Megumi had ever heard from him—
“…Okay. I'll try." He paused. "For you."
***
Chapter 4: The God Who Could Be Held
Notes:
Mkay and this last chapter is mostly just a big smut. It starts when you see a sentence like 'is this really happening', you'll see it coming haha.
Thank you for reading and pls enjoy :)
Chapter Text
Megumi stirred awake, the warmth of Gojo’s arms wrapped around him, his body comfortably pressed against the mattress.
Before he even opened his eyes, he felt it—featherlight kisses, trailing over his bare stomach.
Soft, careful, almost worshiping.
Megumi smiled, keeping his eyes shut, just feeling the affection.
The kisses moved upward, slow and unhurried, pressing against his ribs, his chest—warm lips ghosting over his skin like Gojo was memorizing every inch of him.
Then, finally, a press of lips against his own.
But before Megumi could even kiss back—
A loud punch landed just inches from his face.
Megumi flinched back hard, his eyes snapping open just in time to see Gojo shoving Geto, nearly taking him to the ground.
“What the fuck?” Megumi gasped, quickly sitting up.
Gojo was furious, his arm cocked back, ready to throw another punch, his whole body radiating tension.
"Woah." Geto just laughed. "When did you get so possessive?"
Megumi immediately pushed forward, voice sharp. “Gojo, stop. He doesn’t know better."
Gojo hesitated, his clenched fist trembling in the air, his jaw tight as he glared into Geto’s eyes.
Then, through gritted teeth, Gojo growled, “Megumi and I are exclusive now, so. I'd appreciate if you didn't touch him anymore."
His voice was sharp, final.
Geto blinked, glancing at Megumi, really looking at him now, like he was processing.
Then, with a smirk, he rubbed at his rapidly forming bruise and gave Megumi a thumbs up. “Oh, well. Congratulations,” Geto said, grinning.
Gojo scowled before shoving Geto toward the door. “Out,” Gojo snapped.
Geto chuckled, holding his hands up as he backed out of the room. “Alright, alright, I get it. Jealous, but I get it."
Gojo kicked the door shut behind him, exhaling sharply.
Then, without a word, he sat down on the edge of the bed and dropped his face into his hands. "Damn."
Megumi just laughed.
He pushed himself up, sitting on his knees before wrapping his arms around Gojo’s back from behind.
He pressed a soft kiss to the back of Gojo’s shoulder, his voice warm with amusement. “You punched him.”
Gojo groaned into his hands. “Sorry. I lost my mind for a second.”
Megumi grinned. “Yeah but... You punched him.”
"Stop teasing me." Gojo sighed, rubbing his face before tilting his head slightly toward Megumi. “You don’t get it.”
Megumi leaned against him. “Oh no, I definitely get it.”
Gojo groaned, rubbing his face again. “God, stop sounding so pleased.”
Megumi laughed, resting his chin on Gojo’s shoulder. “I'm flattered, that's all."
Gojo shook his head slowly, clearly embarrassed. But after a second, he sobered, his voice dropping a little softer. “Are you okay?”
Megumi blinked. “Hm?"
"Just checking on you." Gojo turned slightly, meeting his eyes. “Are you okay?"
Megumi huffed. “I'm fine."
Gojo studied him, searching for any hint of discomfort.
Megumi smiled softly. “Nothing happened. You protected me.” He nudged Gojo’s cheek with his nose. “Just like always.”
Gojo let out a slow breath, his body finally relaxing.
Then he tilted his head, looking at Megumi fully.
And smirked.
“So…” Gojo murmured, his voice teasing. “You like it when I fight for you?"
Megumi rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”
Gojo just grinned, pulling him in for another kiss—this one slow, deep, his.
*
Gojo kissed Megumi again—slow, deliberate, like he was savoring the taste of him.
Gojo pressed another soft kiss to his lips, then another, then another, mumbling in between them.
“I hope you don't mind,” he murmured against Megumi’s mouth, his breath warm. “Being mine."
Megumi smirked against his lips. “Not at all." Megumi decided to tease him. "You gonna do something about it?"
"You gonna let me?"
Megumi hummed, his eyes flashing down from Gojo's eyes to his lips. "I just might."
Gojo kissed him deeper, his hand slipping around the back of Megumi’s neck, his fingers curling into his hair as he tilted his head just right.
Megumi let out a soft hum, more than happy to let Gojo prove his words with his mouth.
Gojo kissed down his jaw, dragging his lips along his skin, pressing kisses just under his ear before whispering, “Never letting anyone else touch you again.”
Megumi giggled, tilting his head slightly, letting Gojo have his way. “You’re so dramatic.”
Gojo smirked, biting at his pulse just lightly enough to make Megumi inhale sharply. “Not dramatic,” Gojo corrected. “Just serious.”
Before Megumi could respond, Gojo nudged him backward, guiding him onto the mattress.
Megumi let himself be pushed, sinking into the sheets, his lips parting as Gojo leaned over him, blue eyes locked onto him like he was everything.
Gojo kissed him again—deeper this time, slower, his weight pressing down just enough to make Megumi shiver.
Gojo’s hand slid up under Megumi’s shirt, his fingertips ghosting over his ribs, his palm spreading over his stomach, holding him.
Like he was staking his claim.
Like he meant what he had said.
Gojo sighed against his lips, his voice barely above a whisper.
“No one else,” he murmured. “Only mine. Right?"
Megumi smiled, wrapping his arms around Gojo’s neck, pulling him down until there was nothing between them.
“Only yours,” Megumi agreed.
"Good. So. Are we gonna keep doing this back and forth or..? Are you gonna let me fuck you?"
Megumi blinked at him. "Damn... Have you always been this impatient?"
"Pretty much always." Gojo's lips drifted toward Megumi's ear. "Make up your mind, or I'll do it for you."
"Okay, okay, get off of me you big ape." Megumi finally said firmly, pushing Gojo away. "You gotta let me shower first."
*
Megumi had only been in his room for about two minutes, able to get on a shirt and a pair of briefs, before Gojo barged into the room, shutting the door loudly behind him.
Gojo didn't hesitate, pushing Megumi backward until the backs of Megumi's knees hit the bed, and Gojo was easily able to push him down.
Megumi stared up at him, his breathing coming in shorter gasps than before.
Gojo pulled his shirt off, before crawling onto the bed, his knees straddling Megumi's towel clad hips. "You sure about this, baby?"
"I'm sure."
Megumi melted into Gojo’s touch, the heat of his hands under his shirt, the weight of his body pressing down against him.
Gojo was taking his time—slow, deliberate, his lips dragging against Megumi’s with purpose, like he needed this.
Like he needed Megumi.
But even as Megumi kissed him back, his hands curling into the fabric of Gojo’s shirt, his mind started wandering.
Because Gojo had done this before.
With all of them.
Yuji, with his boundless energy, his playfulness, his enthusiasm.
Suguru, with his experience, his confidence, the ease with which he touched Gojo like he knew every inch of him.
Inumaki, with his quiet romance, the way he made Gojo feel desired without even speaking.
Megumi’s stomach twisted.
How could he compare?
He wanted to be everything Gojo needed—everything Gojo wanted—but what if he wasn’t enough?
What if he was boring? What if he wasn’t as good as the others?
Gojo felt the shift immediately.
He broke the kiss, pulling back just enough to study Megumi’s face.
“Hey,” Gojo murmured, brushing his nose against Megumi’s. “What’s wrong?”
Megumi swallowed, blinking up at him.
Gojo searched his expression, his thumb rubbing slow circles against Megumi’s skin. “You’re overthinking about something. Tell me.”
Megumi hesitated, then exhaled slowly. “Well,” He bit his lip. “You’ve… Been with a lot of people.”
Gojo raised an eyebrow. “That’s true. Is that... A problem?"
"No, I don't care, I just..." Megumi let out a short breath, looking away. “What if I don’t… Stack up?”
Gojo blinked.
Megumi forced himself to keep going, even though his chest hurt just admitting it.
“What if I’m not as good as they are? What if I don't have what they have?” His fingers clenched slightly in the sheets. “What if I’m just—”
Gojo hummed, cutting him off.
Megumi shivered as Gojo leaned in, pressing soft, distracting kisses along his jaw.
“You wanna know what you have,” Gojo murmured, his lips trailing toward his ear, “that none of them did?”
Megumi swallowed, barely able to focus as Gojo nipped lightly at his skin.
Gojo smirked against his throat. “You have my heart, Megs."
Megumi’s breath caught.
Gojo pulled back just enough to meet his eyes again, his expression softer now. “I didn’t love them,” he said simply. “Not like this.”
Megumi stared at him, something fragile in his chest cracking wide open.
Gojo smiled, brushing his fingers through Megumi’s hair.
Gojo kissed him again, slower this time, letting him feel the words—letting him believe them.
“You’re already more special than anyone else,” Gojo whispered against his lips. "You always have been."
"But then... Why would you..? I mean, if you truly loved me, then you wouldn't have fooled around with everyone else. Right?"
"I was just... Confused, I guess. And I really am sorry, Meggie. I never meant to hurt anybody. I was just trying to help, and for some reason, I was convinced that I was helping by throwing my body around. But all I really wanted was you. I just didn't think my desires really mattered."
Megumi closed his eyes with a sigh. "I believe you. And... You're sure?" He paused. "I just don't want you to regret being with me, and then... Want somebody else."
"I don't want anybody else." Gojo pulled away for a moment, nipping at his lips one more time before he spoke. "Can I show you? Would you let me?"
"Show me?" Megumi asked softly.
"Yeah." Gojo hovered above him. "Let me show you."
"If... If I say yes. Is it gonna be like how it was with Geto..?" Megumi asked softly, hesitantly.
"Not if you don't want it to be. I'll be honest. I'm incredibly turned on right now, so. I can kiss every inch of you, and make love to you in the soft, sweet way that I know you deserve. Or I can stop holding back, and fuck you. Break you, make you beg for it, and make you feel so good that you forget your own name because you're so busy moaning mine."
Megumi could only stare.
Was this really happening?
Gojo didn't let him sit quietly though. "Tell me what you want baby." He paused. "Unless you don't want this at all? Did I misread--?"
"No, no. I... I want you." Megumi felt the blush rise to his cheeks.
Gojo slid himself over a little to rest on his hip, now laying beside Megumi rather than on top of him.
One of Gojo's hands slowly came forward, the pad of his thumb tracing Megumi's bottom lip. "So tell me what you want, Megs. Want me to take care of you?"
Megumi's eyes locked with Gojo's as he nodded, his hand coming up to hold onto Gojo's wrist as he let his lips part, gently sucking Gojo's thumb into his mouth.
Gojo stared at him, hardly even blinking. His eyes slid down to Megumi's mouth, watching as Megumi's tongue circled around the pad of his finger.
Gojo swallowed harshly, and let a smirk grace his features. "What a little tease."
Gojo’s other hand, which had been resting lightly on Megumi’s waist, shifted slightly, his thumb brushing small, soothing circles over his hip bone.
The sensation was both soothing and electrifying, a contradiction that left Megumi feeling lightheaded.
He closed his eyes, letting himself get lost in the sensation of Gojo’s mouth moving over his skin—kissing, nibbling, and occasionally sucking lightly enough to leave fleeting red marks that would fade by morning.
Eventually, Gojo pulled back slightly, his lips brushing against the shell of Megumi’s ear. “You okay?” he whispered, his voice laced with a tenderness.
Megumi could only nod, his eyes wide.
Gojo tapped Megumi's cheek with one of his fingers. "Look at me for a second... You're sure this is okay? I'm not trying to rush you, or force you. If you're not ready, or don't want to give this to me--"
"Satoru, please. Please." Megumi whimpered, eyes locked with Gojo's so he'd know how serious it was.
Gojo held eye contact as his hand slid into Megumi's towel, and watched Megumi's eyes roll back slightly.
Megumi grabbed onto one of Gojo's shoulders. "Fuck."
*
Gojo took his time getting undressed, hoping to give Megumi more time to gather his thoughts, giving him one last chance to back out.
Megumi was being very patient all of a sudden, his breathing labored, and he sat on the edge of the bed watching, waiting.
Gojo glanced at him, feeling the weight of his eyes. "You can keep stretching yourself, baby. Nobody's stoppin' you."
"I'm good." He said softly, although his eyes were locked on Gojo's cock. But he didn't look nervous anymore. "Got ready in the shower."
"Don't do that next time, okay?"
"Next time?"
"Yeah." Gojo didn't seem fazed by that. "I wanna do it next time. Understood?"
Megumi swallowed. "Understood."
Gojo left his clothes in a haphazard heap on the ground, before walking back toward Megumi, who was unashamedly scanning him from head to toe. "Alright, baby. I've got some rules."
Megumi nodded once, fully prepared to do anything and everything that was asked of him, just so Gojo would touch him.
When Gojo was standing between Megumi's legs, he used one hand to grab Megumi's chin and force his head back to meet Gojo's eyes now that their height difference was much more exaggerated. "If something goes wrong, if anything hurts, or if you get scared or nervous for even a second, you will open your mouth and tell me. I'm serious."
"Okay."
"One last thing. I really need to make sure you're sure, so please just... Tell me what you want. Are you sure you want me to--?"
"Please." Megumi didn't hesitate for a moment, his eyes half-lidded now. "Please fuck me."
"As you wish." Gojo smiled a little, and leaned down to kiss him once. He pulled away just to mumble, "Hands behind your back, baby."
Megumi was quick to obey, one of Gojo's favorite things about him so far, as Gojo continued to kiss him.
They continued until Megumi was breathless, Gojo still squeezing his jaw ever so lightly, before Gojo slid a hand down to pull on the edge of Megumi's towel.
He gently pulled it off of Megumi's waist, leaving it spread open on the bed.
Gojo then retracted all form of contact, and gave Megumi a small shove. "Why don't you climb up the bed a little, baby? Can you put your head on those pillows for me?"
Again, Megumi scrambled to obey. His face took on a light blush at how exposed he felt; how vulnerable.
It wasn't every day that somebody as gorgeous as Gojo was staring at him without a stitch of clothing on his body.
"Goddamn." Gojo just smirked at him, eyeing him like he was starving. "You are stunning, Meggie."
Megumi couldn't help but smile as he looked away, bashful for no reason. "Can I do something for you?"
"You don't need to do--"
"I know, but I want to. Let me?"
"Tell me what you want, and you'll have it. I'd give you the world, baby."
Megumi glanced over at him, his eyes meeting lighter blue ones. "Can I taste you?"
Gojo shocked the hell out of Megumi when he grabbed him by the shoulders, only to pull him slightly so that only Megumi's head was hanging off the side of the bed, eye line centered on Gojo's thighs.
Megumi took a deep breath, before opening his mouth for Gojo, knowing exactly what was to come.
Gojo knew too, and didn't waste time sliding into Megumi's mouth.
As he did so, he lightly traced a finger down Megumi's exposed throat. "You alright?"
Megumi closed his eyes, hummed in approval, and relaxed his throat as Gojo slid deeper, because he wanted Gojo to know that he could handle it.
Gojo also tried to distract Megumi by sliding his hands down Megumi's torso. "God, look at you. You're perfect."
Megumi hummed again, taking another breath through his nose.
Gojo watched him in fascination, knowing Megumi was trying to focus on his breathing, but also knowing that it was beginning to slip from Megumi's control.
Gojo tried to remind him of that, as he slid out and back into Megumi's mouth, reaching down to occasionally pinch Megumi's nose shut for a moment before letting go. He reached up to grab Megumi's throat every now and then as well, again reminding him who was in control right here and now.
Megumi still seemed to be concentrated on breathing, letting his tongue trace the underside of Gojo's cock like he'd done the first time he'd taken Gojo into his mouth.
Gojo could only stare, seeing Megumi's chest begin to rise and fall more heavily now, as a soft pink color beginning to spread across Megumi's upper body.
The sight of Megumi in this moment was something that Gojo hoped he'd never forget. Megumi was completely incomparable to anyone Gojo had ever been with.
He'd cared about this man for so long, and now that he had him pinned underneath him, Gojo thought he might die.
Gojo decided he didn't want to wait any longer.
Gojo slowly slid out of Megumi's mouth only to squat down quickly to catch him in a breathless upside down kiss, which Megumi had no choice but to participate in.
When Gojo finally moved, Megumi panted loudly, but didn't move. He knew better.
Gojo gave him a few short seconds to breathe, as he walked around the bed to grab Megumi's legs and pull him back toward the center of the bed. "Can you get up on your knees for me, baby?"
Megumi turned over quickly, absolutely buzzing with excitement, mouth hanging open as he breathed heavily.
Megumi couldn’t think.
His head was spinning, nerves alive, skin tingling under every touch.
Gojo’s hands were on him—really on him—and Megumi couldn’t stop the rush in his chest, the way it swelled and cracked like lightning behind his ribs.
This was happening.
This was actually happening.
He was here, in Gojo’s bed, under Gojo’s hands, with Gojo’s voice rasping into his ear like it had always belonged there.
He’d imagined this a thousand times—half-asleep in the quiet of his own room, in the shower with his hand between his legs, in every look that lasted too long, in every moment Gojo had smiled at him like he was something.
But none of those fantasies ever came close to this.
This wasn’t just lust.
This was Gojo’s body pressed to his. Gojo’s mouth on his skin. Gojo’s voice—low and warm and just a little shaky—saying his name like it was a prayer.
Megumi’s heart pounded so hard he thought it might shake loose from his chest.
He didn’t know if Gojo felt the same way—if this meant the same thing to him.
But he hoped.
God, he hoped.
Because this wasn’t just some passing desire.
This was years of loving him quietly, aching for him from a distance.
"Talk to me, babe." Gojo interrupted his thoughts. "You good?"
"Yes."
"You promise?"
Megumi let out a breathless laugh. "I promise."
"I know I pinched your nose earlier. Sorry about that... Like I said, just tell me if something makes you uncomfortable."
"No, no... it was pretty hot." Megumi's voice softened. "Thank you for checking on me."
"Of course, baby." Gojo climbed onto the bed behind him with a small smile, reaching a hand down toward Megumi just to check he was ready. "Wanna grab the condom I left over there?"
Megumi stretched his arm to the nightstand, grabbing it and handing it to him.
Gojo stared down at him with a slow, hungry gaze, sliding the condom on without looking. "You ready?"
"Yes."
"You're sure?"
"Just shut up and do it already." Megumi snapped.
Gojo chuckled lowly, but obeyed. "As you wish."
When Gojo entered him, Megumi gasped sharply.
Gojo paused immediately. "You okay?"
Megumi nodded, catching his breath. "Just give me a second."
"Take all the time you need," Gojo whispered, brushing kisses up Megumi's spine. "You're doing so good."
When Megumi gave him the signal, Gojo leaned in and began to move slowly, pressing kisses to Megumi's neck, murmuring against his skin, "Fuck, I'm so lucky. No one else gets to touch you like this, huh, baby?"
Megumi let out a soft laugh, breath hitching. "You're so dramatic."
"Well, I'm busy falling in love over here. Sue me."
Gojo moved deliberately, hips rolling in a slow rhythm, and Megumi could barely take it.
The stretch, the pressure—it was overwhelming in the best way.
Gojo kissed Megumi's jaw, voice low and honest. "Doing so well, baby."
Gojo kissed him deeply, then began moving again, gradually building a pace that had Megumi clutching the sheets.
Their bodies moved together in sync, every breath and sound shared between them.
Gojo whispered praises, kisses trailing along Megumi's neck, his shoulders, his spine.
"You feel so good, baby. So perfect around me."
Megumi's moans grew louder, and Gojo adjusted his angle, slipping an arm under Megumi to hold him closer.
"You're so beautiful like this. All mine, yeah?"
Megumi nodded frantically. "Yours."
Gojo smiled, kissing the side of his face.
The intimacy between them thickened, the heat of it layered with something gentler—a tenderness neither of them had allowed themselves to feel before.
As their pace picked up, Megumi arched into Gojo's touch, overwhelmed by the sensations and words spilling into his skin.
He felt his disregarded cock twitching under him every time he felt the pressure of Gojo's cock against his prostate, and it was so good. It was so fucking good.
Gojo started mumbling again, his chin resting on Megumi's shoulder so he could speak directly into Megumi's ear, now that he knew how much his words were turning Megumi on. "Fuck, it's like you were made for me. You were made for my cock, baby."
Megumi heard himself whimper at those words, and he began rolling his hips to meet Gojo's, trying to intensify the feeling for both of them.
Gojo practically growled into his ear. "You like that, huh? Like being made for my cock and no one else's?"
Megumi could only nod, hearing the moans, gasps and whimpers that were escaping him.
Gojo fucked him a little harder, and the sounds of his pleasure make Megumi's eyes slip shut.
Gojo slowly slipped a hand onto Megumi's lower stomach as he continued his rhythm, sliding his hand lower for only a second before sliding back up again.
He moved his arm to bracket Megumi's shoulders, using his other hand to push on Megumi's lower back so that he'd arch up a little.
Megumi got the message quickly, and let Gojo manhandle him up to sit on his knees with his back arched slightly, turning his head to see Gojo's face.
And what a sight it was. Jaw hanging open, hair falling into his eyes, and sweat covering his skin.
Megumi had never seen anything so erotic in his entire life.
Gojo moaned as soon as he met Megumi's eyes, finding a new angle to pound his hips into Megumi with an unrelenting pace.
He let his hand grab onto Megumi's opposite shoulder, using his forearm to keep Megumi's shoulder blades pressed to his chest.
Gojo spoke to him again. "You're fucking stunning, holy shit. You're being so good for me, baby."
Gojo met his eyes, slowing his hips down only for a moment to give Megumi another breathless kiss, knowing that he was overwhelming Megumi with his cock buried in his ass, his arm pushing on Megumi's throat, and now stealing the only breath that he had, directly from his mouth.
He'd told Megumi that he'd make him fall apart, and he meant it.
Gojo bit down on Megumi's bottom lip briefly, before roughly shoving Megumi back down onto the mattress. "Fuck, you feel so good."
Megumi didn't respond, because he couldn't. He was only vaguely aware of Gojo's words, his mind lost in a fog as he let his moans fly out with abandon.
Gojo grabbed onto one of Megumi's wrists with his hand, and held it tightly against Megumi's lower back as he picked his pace back up.
Gojo got his attention by reaching around with his other hand, to grab onto Megumi's leaking cock. "God, you're so pretty. So fuckin' gorgeous. You feel so good around me."
Megumi couldn't even think. He had no idea that he'd wanted to be pinned down like this before, but now that it was happening, he could barely focus on anything else.
Gojo groaned brokenly, rolling his hips faster and faster with each thrust. He was becoming more unhinged by the minute as he neared his own release, his mouth running away with him. "Fuck you're such a good boy for me, Megs, you're so fucking gorgeous. F-Fuck you're gonna make me come."
Megumi's eyes opened just barely, trying to see as much of Gojo as he could. "Please." He begged, but truly the words are more of a moan than anything else. "Please come inside me."
Megumi can see him now, as Gojo lets go of Megumi's wrists to brace himself with one hand firmly placed on the mattress beside Megumi's head. Gojo is still trying to pump Megumi's cock with his other hand, but it's sloppy now.
Megumi kept his eyes open, unable to look away from the sight of a completely fucked out Gojo.
"Fuck, I'm so close." Megumi practically whimpered, his entire body shaking with the force of Gojo's thrusts. "Wanna come, please."
Gojo kept up with the steady pace on Megumi's cock, encouraging him toward his release.
Gojo turned his head to kiss the side of Megumi's neck, speaking to him softly. "You can come, Megs, you've been so fucking good. Come on my cock, baby, come for me."
Those words drove Megumi over the edge, and he bucked his own hips forward, shoving his cock into Gojo's hand once, twice and then he cried out as he came with helpless sounds of pleasure falling from his lips.
His body trembled, and he nearly fell into the mattress as he spilled all over his chest and Gojo's fist.
Gojo watched him with a hungry gaze, his mouth hanging open at the sight as he pumped his hand slower now, jerking Megumi off through his orgasm.
Gojo's words were no longer in his own control as he fell completely on top of Megumi, and choked out. "Fuck, you're so fucking beautiful, your ass is so fuckin' good. Fuck, I'm gonna fill you up, I'm-- Fuck, fuck!"
Gojo groaned loudly into the room with a final thrust, helplessly pushing his hips in and out of Megumi and feeling himself throb inside of him as he reached his peak.
Megumi wanted to remember the feeling forever.
When it was over, Gojo stayed close, pressing slow, sleepy kisses to Megumi's shoulder, the side of his neck, the curve of his jaw.
Megumi turned his head lazily toward him, his voice soft. "Fuck... That was insane."
Gojo smiled, reaching for Megumi's towel from earlier to clean him up. "Did you have a good time, baby?"
Megumi reached up to run his fingers through Gojo’s hair. "Everything was perfect. Absolutely perfect."
*
Gojo sat on the edge of the bed, towel in hand, his back to Megumi.
He'd wiped everything down, he hoped, but for some reason he couldn't do anything else.
He should’ve been moving—tossing the sheets, cracking some smug joke—but instead, he just sat there, still.
The sweat was starting to cool on his skin, but his chest was warm, tight with something he didn’t want to look directly at.
He had done it.
Crossed that line with Megumi.
Let himself want, take, feel.
And now it was over—or at least, the part he usually knew how to navigate was over—and he was left wondering what the hell came next.
Because all the others left afterward.
They smiled, dressed, made some lazy compliment, and then slipped out the door, gone by morning or sooner.
He had no reason to think this would be any different. No reason except hope.
And that was what scared him the most.
Gojo swallowed hard, his thumb running absently along the hem of the towel.
He didn’t look over his shoulder.
He didn’t want to see Megumi pulling away, or worse—looking at him differently now that he’d seen all of him.
He’d been everything once.
The strongest. A symbol. Someone to fear or admire or depend on.
Now he was just... Satoru.
A man past his prime. A disappointment to some.
A ghost of something greater.
And if Megumi ever looked at him that way—like he wasn’t enough anymore—Gojo didn’t know how he’d live with that.
Megumi’s opinion wasn’t just one that mattered. It was the only one that still did.
“You’re doing it again,” Megumi said softly behind him.
Gojo blinked, throat tightening. “Doing what?”
“Looking like you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
He tried for a dismissive huff. “I’m not.”
“You are.”
Megumi’s voice was gentle. No judgment. No push.
Gojo opened his mouth to deflect again, but the words wouldn’t come. Not after everything they'd done.
“I just wonder if you’re gonna wake up tomorrow and realize I’m not who you thought I was,” he admitted.
Megumi didn’t move.
“I’m not the strongest. I’m not anyone’s first choice anymore. And I—” Gojo swallowed. “I don’t know if ‘just me’ is enough for someone like you.”
There was a pause.
Then Megumi pushed himself up onto his elbow, watching him.
“You’re not who I thought you were,” he said plainly.
Gojo turned, heart in his throat.
“You’re better,” Megumi said. “Because I used to think you were untouchable. All power, no softness. All ego, and very little kindness. And now I know the truth.”
Gojo didn’t breathe.
“You're genuine. You’re still trying. You could've given up when you retired. You could've run away and never come back. But you chose to stay, and to try to help other sorcerers. Just like you've always done. And the bravest thing you've done so far, is that you gave yourself permission to be yourself. To be Satoru, and nobody else."
Gojo felt his chest ache. He'd never felt so seen in his entire life.
Megumi reached for him, curling his fingers around Gojo’s wrist. "And Satoru is a man that I love with my whole heart."
Gojo’s voice wavered. “You really think that?"
“I think you’re the man I want to wake up next to tomorrow,” Megumi said, quiet but firm. “And the day after that.”
Gojo let him pull him back down onto the bed.
He curled around Megumi without a word, tucking his face into the crook of his neck.
And for the first time in a long time, Gojo Satoru let himself believe that he didn’t have to be a god to be enough.
***