Chapter Text
Yuuta’s breath hitches Inumaki’s eyes gleam in the dimly lit room. He feels like his heart might beat right out of his chest, and his hands twitch awkwardly over Inumaki’s legs, unsure of what to do with his hands.
“Do…do we really have to do it like this?” Yuuta asks weakly, his voice trailing off as his nerves start to fail him. Instead of responding, Inumaki slides onto his lap in a slow, practiced move, and Yuuta’s cheeks burn with heat. Every point of contact makes him feel like he’s on fire, and he swallows hard. He thought he was mentally prepared for this, but it’s very clear to him that he was not ready at all.
Inumaki laughs, a soft tinkling sound. It’s a pleasing sound, and Yuuta mindlessly thinks that he wants to hear it again. Inumaki gently tips him backwards until Yuuta falls down on the bed, leaving Inumaki on top of him, straddling him with his pale, pretty legs.
This wouldn’t be a bad way to die.
Inumaki leans down and connects their lips, kissing him sweetly. Yuuta immediately caves, sinking into his plush, soft lips. He groans lowly as Inumaki’s tongue gently flicks at his lips, and he ends up parting his mouth, letting Inumaki lick his way in.
Yuuta is no virgin, but he’s never felt this turned on in his entire life. Heat rushes through his body, pooling in his gut as his hands come to wrap around Inumaki’s neck. His thumb strokes at the skin there, admiring the soft, soft skin under his finger. It becomes very apparent that he’s enjoying this a moment later, as Inumaki breaks the kiss to mischievously grind down on his hardness. Yuuta bites his lip as pleasure spikes through him at the goading motion.
“Don’t tease,” Yuuta says, nearly begging. He’s really about to embarrass himself in front of this beautiful boy, and he thinks he might die from humiliation if he can’t last more than five minutes, which might end up being the case. Inumaki’s eyes crinkle, and Yuuta watches with a dry mouth as Inumaki reaches for something on the dresses nearby.
Lube.
He pops the cap open before squeezing out the clear liquid onto his fingers. The lube coats his fingers generously, and Yuuta is entranced by the sight as Inumaki brings his hand behind him. He’s filled with an irrational urge to ask to watch, but his thoughts fly out of his head as Inumaki leans down again to kiss him.
Inumaki sighs into his mouth as he presses his fingers into himself, making a squelching sound. It’s erotic. It’s incredibly sexy. Yuuta lets his tongue flick upward into his mouth, taking his time to explore Inumaki’s plush, willing tongue. As Inumaki fingers himself, he occasionally whimpers into Yuuta’s mouth, sending all of the blood in his body down to his dick.
Right when he thinks he’s about to die from impatience, Inumaki finally pulls back. A small string of spit connects their mouths, but Yuuta’s eyes are glued on Inumaki as he lines himself up. His cute, pink cock is completely filled out, looking incredibly tempting, and Yuuta hisses as Inumaki lowers himself all the way down in one go, enveloping him in a tight, warm grip.
Yuuta’s not sure how he ended up here, but he thanks whoever sent such a lovely, enthralling being his way. Inumaki starts to ride him earnestly, his head thrown back in pleasure as he thrusts himself up and down, his legs muscle rippling from the effort. Yuuta’s hands move and grip his thighs, unable to think straight past the lustful haze that takes over his mind.
-
Twenty-four hours ago.
There’s no doubt.
Yuuta’s been cursed.
Something comes falling towards him, and he barely manages to twist away to the side in time. A hammer lays on the ground, and Yuuta stares at it with disbelief in his eyes. A hammer, of all things? How did that even end up above him?
“This is bad,” Fushiguro says, his eyebrows knitted in annoyance. His shoulders are tense, probably from keeping watch over Yuuta 24/7. From the moment he woke up exactly seven days ago, he had found that everything in the world was trying to kill him.
A flock of birds start to fly in their direction, and Fushiguro immediately pops an umbrella open. Not even a second later do they hear the sound of bird droppings against the vinyl above his head. Yuuta groans, feeling helplessness settle over him.
“Is there nothing we can do?” He asks hopelessly. Until seven days ago, Yuuta didn’t even know that curses existed. He thought that they were silly superstitions, or things that didn’t exist. Now he knows better, but he wishes it didn’t have to be at the expense of his daily life.
Fushiguro promptly pulls Yuuta away from the street right as a car comes flying by. It runs over a puddle from the rain yesterday, creating a large splash. Fushiguro scowls as his arm gets soaked.
“These may not be life threatening, but they’re annoying,” he grumbles. Yuuta agrees. How is he supposed to continue living if everything in the world is out to get him?
“I’m assuming it’s because Gojo just declared my status to everyone,” Yuuta mumbles under his breath. It had come as a surprise to him as well, since he wasn’t expecting the announcement to be this early.
Given the fact that many still consider Yuuta an outsider, it’s no surprise that there were vehement protests to make Yuuta the heir. Gojo had essentially snatched him off the streets when he was young once he had found out that they were distantly related, and Yuuta found himself part of a world that he never would have imagined.
“Either way, we need to do something about it now,” Fushiguro says, his voice unusually charged with emotion. Yuuta agrees. He can’t live like this for another day.
But what can they do against something that they know nothing about?
“Itadori said that he might have a lead,” Fushiguro tells him. Yuuta allows Fushiguro to guide him down the street, since he really doesn’t have a choice. If he tries to lead, it’s very likely that someone will end up tripping with a knife ‘coincidentally’ in their hands, and it’ll head straight for his gut. “There’s been talk of someone who moved in recently in this neighborhood. They say he’s a shaman.”
Yuuta wrinkles his nose. “Like…he deals with ghosts?” He asks dubiously. He didn’t have an ounce of belief in the supernatural until just a few days ago, so he can’t help but be doubtful. Curses are one thing, but real shamans?
“He’s only had positive reviews,” Fushiguro says, though his own eyebrows are furrowed. It seems he’s not entirely sold on the idea either. “But Itadori insisted. He said there would be no harm in checking, since we don’t have any other ideas.”
Yuuta dithers for a moment before he sighs. “He’s right,” he says ruefully. “Let’s get going.” With his approval, Fushiguro turns and heads deeper into the streets, watching carefully to make sure that nothing will bother their journey.
“Watch out!”
Fushiguro whirls around and forcefully pushes him out of the way, and a pot comes smashing into the ground. A lady from above waves apologetically, looking horrified. “I’m so sorry,” she cries, looking distraught with herself. Yuuta spots several pots of flowers on her balcony, but he’s a little confused as to how one made it over the tall railing.
It must be the curse. He groans and runs a hand down his face, feeling a wave of exhaustion. “Are you okay?” Fushiguro asks cautiously, and Yuuta lets out a chuckle without any humor.
“As okay as I can be,” he says dryly. “Let’s just find this shaman and get this over with.” To his relief, the rest of the journey is made without any more life threatening instances, though Yuuta ends up getting soaked with some mysterious substance on the way, leaving him in a foul, foul mood.
Even Fushiguro seems to sense that he’s about to snap, as he doesn’t say a word once they arrive. He knocks on the door three times before stepping back. After a moment, the door swings open, and no one is there.
Yuuta stares. “Are you sure we’re at the right place?” He asks, gritting his teeth. If they’ve come all this way just to be pranked… Fushiguro shakes his head.
“If the door opens, we've been accepted as customers,” he says. He ushers Yuuta inside, who frowns as he feels something strange in his pocket.
“Wait,” he says, and they come to a stop. Yuuta reaches inside his pocket only to realize that this phone is strangely hot. He pulls it out, wondering what’s wrong with it, but Fushiguro’s eyes go wide.
Yuuta yelps as Fushiguro snatches the phone and chucks it out the door right before it snaps shut. “Why did you do that?” He snaps, but then he hears a loud boom. The dots immediately connect in his head, and he stares at the door in disbelief.
“Can…can phones do that?” He asks cautiously. Fushiguro shrugs, though his face is an expression of long-suffering. Despite the fact that he’s annoyed, Yuuta prays that they’ll find something useful here.
The hallway is dark, dimly lit by a few candles. Now that Yuuta is focused, he realizes that there’s a strange, sweet smell wafting through the air. It’s not strong enough to bother him, but something about it makes his head feel a little fuzzy. The two of them walk in silence down the hallway until they come across a set of double doors.
“This must be it,” Yuuta murmurs. He puts his hand on the doors and pushes, and they slowly creak open. Whether it’s the smell that’s made his reflexes slow, or something else entirely, he fails to notice that something creaks above his head.
Fushiguro spots it a moment too late. “Wait, Okkotsu!” He yells, reaching out with a hand. Before he can interfere, Yuuta gasps as something swiftly sweeps him away, and he clutches on tight to whoever is holding him.
He ends up staring up at the most beautiful face he’s ever seen in his entire life. Long lashes that frame his soft, violet eyes, and soft, pale skin that looks unblemished and smooth. He looks like he’s never seen the sun in his life, but it only serves to add to his charm. A veil hides the lower half of his face, and his silky platinum strands frame his face perfectly. Even though Yuuta can tell he’s taller and bigger than this person, the stranger seems to have no problem holding him up.
Yuuta thinks he might be in love.
The stranger’s hand comes up and gently swipes under his eye, and Yuuta flinches, belatedly regaining his senses. To his shock, when the stranger pulls his thumb away, it’s pitch black. With his own hand, he hurriedly rubs at his eyes to see if there’s something there, but nothing comes away.
With a pull, Yuuta is set upright on his feet again before he can digest what just happened. Distracted by the beauty in front of him, he had failed to notice exactly what had nearly fallen on him. The stranger kneels down and picks up a light that was hanging from the ceiling. He examines it carefully, turning it over on all sides before he chucks it straight into the wall.
As soon as it collides, black smoke puffs from it before dissipating. Too much is happening for Yuuta to keep up. “Excuse me,” Fushiguro says carefully, stepping forward. “We hear that you might be able to help us with our dilemma.”
They don’t receive a verbal response. The shaman only stares at Yuuta, his eyes roaming over his body. It makes Yuuta feel uncomfortably exposed, but he remains silent. His gut is telling him to remain quiet, that something important is happening right now.
“Er,” Fushiguro starts, sounding uncomfortable, but Yuuta raises his hand to stop him. Fushiguro falls silent at his command, and Yuuta waits with bated breath.
The shaman finally moves, reaching into his long sleeves before pulling out a knife. Fushiguro tenses, most likely wary of the potential harm he could inflict on Yuuta in such close quarters. Yuuta can’t sense any malicious intent, so he waits to see what the shaman will do.
The shaman slices his wrist open.
Blood drips onto the ground. It’s not a very deep cut, just enough to get the blood flowing. Before Yuuta can react properly, his shirt is forcefully tugged upwards. The young man uses his blood to draw something straight onto his stomach, and Yuuta is stunned into silence.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Fushiguro barks, regaining his senses faster than Yuuta. Yuuta belatedly realizes that this is probably the correct reaction. Fushiguro strides forward, clearly intent on stopping the shaman, but the shaman glares at him with a sharp look, sharp enough to halt Fushiguro in his tracks.
Yuuta can’t help but be impressed. There aren’t many that can tame Fushiguro with just a look. The shaman finishes whatever he’s doing before he drops Yuuta’s shirt back down. Of all the things he’s had happen to him, he has to say that this one is definitely the weirdest.
The shaman takes a step back before giving him a thumbs up. Yuuta must be making some kind of dumb expression, since the shaman looks around for something. He walks over to a table before scribbling something down on a piece of paper and holding it up to him.
Yuuta squints his eyes to read the words in the dim lighting.
The seal is only temporary, but it should have suppressed the effects of your curse. You’ve been facing a lot of bad luck recently, right?
He blinks in surprise. He had addressed the problem perfectly, even without being informed of the situation. Even Fushiguro looks startled. It seems like Itadori’s recommendation was on the mark this time, and Yuuta makes a note to reward him later.
“It’s been a week since it started,” Fushiguro says, stepping forward. It seems he’s read the note too. “Do you know how we can break the…curse? It’s been interfering too much with his daily life.”
The shaman doesn’t seem to have an answer as he stares at Fushiguro without saying a word, and Yuuta feels the little hope he had just found fly right out of his chest. Will he be forced to live like this forever? The shaman reaches out and pats his cheek, and Yuuta belatedly realizes that he’s still bleeding.
“Wait,” Yuuta says, taking his shirt and ripping the bottom. It’s not the cleanest thing, but at least he can wrap the wound with it. The shaman lets him wrap the cut without complaint, and he bows his small, cute head in thanks. Despite himself, Yuuta feels his cheeks warm up.
The shaman scribbles something down again. You have two choices, Yuuta reads from the paper. Kill the castor, or make them lift the curse. There’s no other way to break it.
Yuuta frowns. “We don’t know who cast the curse,” he admits, his voice heavy. “Can you trace who cast it?” He receives a shake of the head, and Yuuta deflates. Is there really nothing that they can do?
“We can pay anything,” Fushiguro implores. “Or if there’s anything you need, we can fulfill your request. If there’s even a one percent chance of fixing this, then we’d like to ask you to try.”
The shaman hesitates before he shakes his head again. I’m sorry, he writes. I can’t fix your problem long-term. There’s nothing I can do.
He turns to walk away, clearly finished with the conversation, but Yuuta’s arm reaches out and catches him. “Wait,” he says, his voice urgent. “I…”
His voice fails him as the shaman turns his head to look at him. Then he shakes his head and presses forward. “I know I can’t change your mind if you’re really decided,” he says reluctantly, because Yuuta isn’t willing to go as far as using force, despite what some people might think of him. “But…would you please consider it one more time?”
Maybe it’s the desperation in his voice, or maybe he feels pity for Yuuta. Whatever it is, the shaman pauses, his face contemplative for a long moment. “I want to stop bothering the people around me,” Yuuta mumbles. No matter how he looks at it, he’s been an inconvenience to everyone.
Someone has to be at his side at all times, just to make sure that some stray object doesn’t end up taking him out. He can’t even visit the bathroom by himself, since the sink had somehow exploded on him and nearly left a giant chunk of porcelain in his head.
“My family is doing their best to protect me, but I’m only being an inconvenience to them,” Yuuta confesses, finally saying the words that have been weighing on his chest for a long, long time. “I want to stop putting everyone at risk. And I don’t want to worry them any longer.”
Nobara had taken a blow to the head when she was escorting him to meet someone. Their car had somehow blown out the brakes, and she had barely managed to save them with her incredible reflexes. If it had been anyone else driving, he’s not sure that they would have made it, but that incident had left her hospitalized for a day or so.
She’s made a full recovery since, but something tells Yuuta it’ll only get worse from here. He doesn’t want to be the reason that all of his friends and family end up in the hospital. “Please help me,” he pleads earnestly, his voice cracking at the very end.
It’s silent. The shaman’s expression doesn’t change, and Yuuta feels the last of his hope wither and disappear. His last plea must have not been effective. Right as he’s preparing himself to leave with disappointment, the shaman steps closer.
He pulls a fan out of his sleeve before tipping Yuuta’s chin up with the fan. Yuuta unconsciously holds his breath as the shaman’s clear, purple eyes stare straight into his face. His face is tilted to the right, then to the left, and Yuuta doesn’t resist. Something important here is happening, he’s certain. A pensive look enters the shaman's eyes before he steps back and starts to write something on the paper.
Whatever he’s writing, it’s long. Yuuta’s fists clench nervously, praying with all of his heart that the outcome will be favorable to him. Even Fushiguro shifts from where he’s standing, looking hesitant about this entire affair.
The paper finally turns around, and Yuuta’s eyes immediately glean its contents before his mouth drops open. Fushiguro inhales sharply, his cheeks turning a bright red. A mischievous look enters the shaman’s-no, Inumaki’s eyes.
“Y-you,” Yuuta splutters, completely thrown off. “Are you being serious?!” Normally, Fushiguro would jump in with his own protests, but it seems he’s too blindsided by what’s happening to comment properly.
A soft, tinkling laugh fills the air. It seems he’s not joking. Yuuta closes his eyes before steeling himself. “If this is the only way,” he says, his voice trailing off for a moment before he opens his eyes. “Then I’ll do it.”
“You’re not being serious,” Fushiguro bursts, his eyebrows furrowed in his signature scowl. “Does that even make sense? How on earth would that help in the slightest?”
Inumaki’s eyes turn cold, and Yuuta feels cold sweat drip down his neck. “Fushiguro, maybe we shouldn’t be rude to the only person who can help us,” he says, a hint of warning in his voice, and Fushiguro seems to snap back to his senses at his words.
“I apologize,” he says stiffly. “But I hope you understand that I’m doubtful of such a thing. This is all completely unprecedented to us, and Yuuta is someone of very high standing.” To Yuuta’s relief, Inumaki’s eyes soften at the apology, and he internally sighs in relief.
He’s not wrong though. They’ll have to be careful with how they approach this, since one wrong rumor would give the wrong people ammunition against him. Worst case scenario, Inumaki would get caught up in the clan politics as well, and he doesn’t want to drag a stranger into this whole affair.
Inumaki brings his hands up in a shrug. Yuuta takes that to mean it’s up to them whether they want to believe him or not. If he’s being completely honest with himself…
He’s more than okay with trying.
Fushiguro seems to sense Yuuta’s intent as he drops his head into his hand. “Fine,” he grumbles. “I’m going to step out and make some arrangements. Stay here until I get back.” Fushiguro bows once towards Inumaki before he turns around and heads outside. The sound of the door clicking tells him that Fushiguro is no longer in the building.
It hits Yuuta how surreal these past ten minutes have been. Right now, he’s standing in front of someone he only met for the first time today, and he has their blood on his stomach. That alone is weird enough, but Yuuta is starting to wonder if he should have studied more about the supernatural. Curses are one thing, but all of this seems…completely out of realm for him.
And now, he’s been propositioned. Many people have tried to seduce Yuuta, for several different reasons, but never for this particular purpose. Yuuta gulps as Inumaki suddenly steps closer, close enough to feel the body heat coming from the smaller boy.
His throat dries as Inumaki leans in close, right up next to his ear. His ear tingles with anticipation, though Inumaki isn’t even touching him. A soft finger trails down his neck, causing shivers to run down his spine.
Suddenly, he’s unsure as to whether he’ll survive tonight. Inumaki pulls away, examining his finger closely. It has the same black stuff that Yuuta saw earlier, which makes him frown.
“Will sleeping with you really help the curse?” He blurts, suddenly feeling anxious. Inumaki nods without missing a beat. “You can’t just do this…seal thing everyday?”
Inumaki shakes his head before reaching for his paper and pen. It’ll eventually lose effect the more I use it, Yuuta reads. Since your body will adapt to it.
“But…sex won’t?” He asks, confused. Even though this all makes zero sense to him, he still wants to try and understand what’s happening.
It’s more effective than the temporary seal, Inumaki writes. And it’ll replenish my energy, which will make the actual seal last longer.
“Okay,” Yuuta says, mostly for himself. “I’ll trust you.” If it all turns out to be a scam, then he really won’t have lost anything. He’s willing to take the gamble. And Yuuta belatedly realizes that this is the most peaceful fifteen minutes that he’s spent in the last week.
He does seem like the real deal. “Tonight,” Yuuta promises, and Inumaki nods.