Chapter Text
Megumi finds himself on the kitchen floor, just a little less drunk now.
He’s watching Nobara and Maki dig through the cabinets, trying to find brownie mix for everybody.
Yuuta and Inumaki are with Panda, and Yuuji is helping Maki and Nobara in their search.
He’s not sure what it is, it could be the alcohol wearing off, or the late hour of night, but he’s feeling off. Chewing on the inside of his cheek, he swears he can feel eyes on him. Looking up, unsurprisingly he’s met with Yuuji. Their eyes meet, a faint blush growing across Yuuji's cheeks. He’s thinking about it too, then. Flashes come to Megumi's mind, all hands and tongue. It leaves him feeling warm, averting Yuuji’s gaze.
He’s switched to water, per Panda’s request. It’s a chore to drink it, but he does it. He’s staring at the floor, leaning against the kitchen cabinets, legs stretched out in front of him. Megumi can hear Nobara and Yuuji argue over who gets to crack the eggs, while Yuuta reminds them to keep it down.
He’s just watching him, staring at Yuuji. It’s hard not to when he’s laughing, bright and magnetic. He wonders if it’s a good idea; if he deserves the warmth that he flies to like a moth to a flame. Nobara has wiped some of the mix from her hands onto Yuuji’s face, but he licks it off his fingers. It’s gross, but Megumi also finds it hot.
Megumi finds himself laughing, soft and short.
Now Yuuta is stirring the brownie mix, and Inumake is sitting on the counter.
In his peripheral, he registers someone has joined him on the floor.
“Hi,” Yuuji greets him with a small smile.
“Hello.”
He’s close, their shoulders are touching where they’re sitting. “I think we should talk tomorrow when we’re sober.”
“Just talk?” Megumi asks, looking towards the other boy.
“About tonight.” Yuuji looks away, swallowing.
And suddenly Megumi gets it, nods once, and fixes his posture. It was all just a drunken mistake, wasn’t it? Yuuji would let him down nicely, and tell him he was sorry, but he didn’t like him like that. He’d walk away like they all do.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” It’s clipped, and dry and Megumi doesn’t stay to see Yuuji’s questioning gaze.
“Goodnight, Fushiguro-kun!” Yuuta calls after him.
He doesn’t respond.
His room is dark and the sheets are cold when he climbs into bed, yet he lays down regardless. He’s trying to sleep, willing the burning in his chest away. He’s trying not to think about Yuuji or waking up tomorrow, facing the inevitable.
It doesn’t make sense, logically, that Yuuji would be meeting up with him tomorrow to stop this-- whatever this was-- before it even started. If what Yuuji said were true, he had been waiting and thinking about tonight for a while. The dancing, the kissing, he wanted to kiss again later.
But there’s something, or someone, inside him who’s telling him he’s a fool.
At the end of the day, Yuuji could find someone else and be happy; it seemed most people could. Maybe they didn’t even need someone else, they just didn’t want him.
Someone’s knocking on his door.
He’s wallowing and someone has knocked on his door.
He throws himself out of bed, opening the door with force. “I’m trying to sleep,” He grits out, eyes meeting Yuuji’s.
“Oh, sorry! I was just bringing you a brownie. Although, it is late…” He trails off, pulling out his phone to check the time.
Megumi looks at the plate in his hand, and back at Yuuji.
Yuuji straightens and puts the phone back in his pocket. “Are you okay?” He asks, brow furrowed.
“I’m fine. It’s late, Itadori.” He sighs out, leaning against the door.
With the way Yuuji’s expression falls, Megumi can tell he’s disappointed him.
“Ah, you’re right. Well, I’ll come and find you tomorrow, okay? Don’t forget!” He hands him the brownie, sporting a tight smile as he walks towards his room. “Goodnight, Fushi.”
How could I forget? You’re all I think about. It’s an unspoken thing.
He closes his bedroom door, looking at the brownie in his hand.
It’s still warm.
Why does he feel so heavy? Why is his throat so tight? Why are there wet hot tears streaming down his face?
It was just some drunk make-outs and awkward exchanges. Yuuji hadn’t even done anything wrong, but Megumi was overwhelmed. By what, exactly, he had no idea. All of it?
He hasn’t even done anything!
Yet.
He sets the plate on his desk, wiping the tears from his face. They’re running down his neck, and for the life of him, he can’t figure out why he’s even crying.
When Megumi wakes up the next day, it is entirely too bright. There’s almost a greasy feeling in his stomach, it spreads to his face. The taste in his mouth is foul.
He decides to start the day right by showering. It helps.
After washing his face and brushing his teeth, he feels like a person. Somewhat.
Getting to the kitchen is a battle, yet he survives. Rubbing his eyes, he finds a familiar figure standing at the stove.
“Gojo-sensei?”
“Megumi-kun! You’re looking a little rough this morning, bad night?”
He’s entirely too loud, but Megumi finds it in himself to forgive the white-haired man as he sets down a cup of tea in front of him.
“Why are you asking questions you already know the answer to?”
Gojo chuckles, “Panda threw a party, Nobara-chan got so drunk she passed out in the hallway, Maki-chan got so drunk she passed out trying to drag Nobara-chan to her room, and Nanami found Toge-kun and Yuuta-kun cuddled up in the linen closet.
It’s a miracle you and Yuuji-kun made it to your rooms,” He says, a slyness to his voice.
Megumi set the tea down, “To be fair, I was the first to turn in.”
Gojo hums, “You’re a good kid, Megumi-kun.” He sits across from him, and Megumi can feel Gojo’s gaze through the blindfold. “Do you feel well?”
Megumi nodded, “Panda made sure everyone stayed hydrated. I guess Nobara and Maki-senpai had more to drink than Itadori and I.”
“Did you have fun?”
Megumi freezes, the cup halfway to his lips. Fun? Was last night fun?
“I had fun,” He decides, yet he sounds unsure even to himself. “I don’t think I’ll be drinking again anytime soon.”
“Good! As your teacher, I cannot condone the consumption of alcohol while being under the legal drinking age. However, as your Gojo,” He grins, “I’m happy you had a good night, Megumi-kun! But nothing good comes from drinking, especially after 2 A.M., so tell me, did you turn in before 2?”
Megumi distinctly remembers the clock reading 3:42 A.M., when Yuuji knocked on his door. “No.”
“Hm. What happened, then? You’re keeping something from me. Yes, I can see it now, written all over your face.”
Megumi’s eyes are fixated on the tea, remaining silent.
Gojo straightens, gaze moving to behind Megumi.
“Yuuji-kun! Care to join us? I made tea. Peppermint with lemon and orange, perfect hangover cure.”
“Give me.” Yuuji croaks, sliding into the seat next to Megumi. He looks as white as a sheet of paper. “Please,”
Megumi’s eyes linger, watching the sunlight bounce in his irises, tracing the slope of his nose, down to his lips. A small, grateful smile grows as he accepts the tea from Gojo-sensei.
“Have a good night, Yuuji-kun?” He asks, sliding back into his seat.
Yuuji looks to Gojo, and then to Megumi. “It was good, I had a lot of fun. Did you, Fushi?” He has this smug look on his face, tea meeting his lips.
“Yes, I did,” Megumi says, looking straight ahead. When did it get so stuffy in the kitchen? Why isn’t Gojo talking? Why is Yuuji’s gaze burning him from the inside out?
He’s not mad at Yuuji, he doesn’t know if he could ever be mad at Yuuji. But he’s frustrated with himself, embarrassed by how he reacted last night, in the darkness of his room alone.
Now he’s even more red, embarrassed that he’s embarrassed.
“Oh, so it’s like that, eh? Well, I’ll be leaving you two then. Alone.”
Megumi is petrified at Gojo’s suggestive tone. Of course, he figured it out; Megumi may be good at keeping things to himself, and good at secrets, but lying has never been his strong suit. “Why are you like this? You’re so embarrassing. Tsk.” He shuns Gojo, crossing his arms as the older man exits the kitchen.
“So… did you like the brownie?” Yuuji asks.
The brownie that’s currently on my desk?
“I didn’t eat it. I’m sorry.”
“That’s okay, I think Nobara burnt them anyway.”
Megumi frowns, “Did you not get one?” He asks, surprised.
“Panda-senpai, Maki-senpai, and Nobara may have eaten most of the pan before I could get two for us.”
Megumi breezes right past that, clearing his throat as he turns to face Yuuji. “You told me last night you wanted to talk?”
“You want to talk right now?” Yuuji raises a brow, bringing a knee to his chest.
“I want to get it over with,” Megumi replies, flat.
Yuuji nods, “Okay. Well, I wanted to talk about the kiss.” He starts, resting his chin on his knee.
Megumi’s hitches, this is it.
“But what I really wanted to talk about was you. How I, uhm, geez this is harder than I thought.” He laughs, nervously. “I like you, Fushiguro. I liked kissing you, by the way. That’s why I needed you to shut me up! I didn’t want to confess, not drunk.” He’s speaking earnestly, eyes locked on Megumi's.
“You’re confessing?” Megumi asks dumbly.
“You just deserve better than a drunken makeout, you know? I wanted to talk because I want to ask you out. On like a real date.”
“Why?” Megumi doesn’t even mean to ask, not really. It’s soft, barely a whisper.
Yuuji’s eyes are open wide, eyebrows up to his hairline. “What do you mean, “Why”? I like you, Fushi. I just told you why,” He’s gentle as he speaks, but there’s an underlying passion in his voice..
“I don’t get it.” He didn’t mean to say that. “You should think about this more before you ask me out.” His tone is rather flat, detached.
Megumi doesn’t know what he’s saying. Is this self-sabotage? Is this what Tsumiki was always on about?
Yuuji cast his eyes downward, chewing on his lip. He looked, frankly, crestfallen at Megumi’s reply. “I like you, Fushi. But if you don’t like me that way, you could just say so. I’m an adult, I can take rejection.”
I can’t.
“It’s not that, Itadori. I…” He pauses, swallowing. His heart caught in his throat. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want you to walk away. “Just think about it, for me?”
Yuuji nods, sucking on his teeth. “Okay, Fushiguro.”
Megumi lets a silence fall between them, sipping his tea. It’s lukewarm now.
“Nanami-senpai found Toge-senpai and Yuuta-senpai in a linen closet this morning.”
“What?! No, he did not.” Yuuji chokes, barking out a laugh, warm and bright, “That is so unlike them! Could they not make it to their rooms?”
“Maki-senpai and Nobara were found passed out in the hall this morning.”
Now Yuuji is laughing harder, barely even making noise. “Maki-senpai?!”
“Maki-senpai was dragging Nobara to her room. Gojo-sensei found them this morning.”
“Gojo-sensei found them!” He’s wheezing now, and Megumi can feel laughter bubble in his chest.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Nobara asks.
“No.”
They’re sitting outside, underneath a tree just outside campus. They have their notebooks and textbooks with them, strewn out around them, untouched. Megumi leans back on his hands, closing his eyes. The sun feels good on his skin.
It’s been a week since the party, a week since he and Yuuji talked in the kitchen.
“You don’t like to talk much, do you? Now that I think about it, I hardly know anything about you. I know about Tsumiki, I know that Gojo-sensei practically raised you, but that’s about it.” Nobara is talking, lying across from him, on her back.
“I like dogs.” He offers, opening his eyes just enough to watch her.
“That’s nothing, everyone likes dogs. I want to know the inside of your mind, Megumi. I admit, it could be grotesque there, but I’m prepared.”
He huffs, “Shouldn’t you be studying?”
“ Shouldn’t you be studying?” She throws it right back at him, sitting up. “You’re boring me, Fushiguro. Your foul attitude is getting old, and you won’t tell me why Yuuji is avoiding you,” she sighs, an exaggerated thing.
“You don’t know how to entertain a girl, Fushiguro. Yuuji never shuts up about how cool you are, but maybe you’re just closer to him than me,” She’s whining now, hands covering her face. “That’s so lame! Tell me, Fushiguro Megumi, what happened between you and Yuuji at the party?”
If Megumi didn’t know her, he’d find her intimidating.
He sits up straight, debating his options.
- Tell Nobara what happened at the party that night
- Run away
- Lie about that night, which would ultimately lead to more questions
- Deflect
“Did you know Nanami found Toge and Yuuta a linen closet that morning?” Option number 4, his specialty.
“Everyone knows Nanami found Toge and Yuuta in a linen closet!” She shouts, “No more games! I want answers. Don’t make me get Maki-senpai involved.”
Back to square one, then.
“What would Maki-senpai do that you aren’t doing right now?”
“Do you want to find out?”
No, probably not.
Megumi groans, backed into a corner. Rubbing a hand down his face, he sighs.
Nobara sits cross-legged across from him, accepting her victory.
He’s built some walls over the last few years, and she just came in like a fucking wrecking ball.
“We made out by the drinks table for about 45 minutes while everyone else was dancing.
Then in the kitchen, he said something about talking the next day, which made me… spiral, in a sense. It was probably the alcohol. Anyway, the next morning when he found me, we started having that talk. He confessed to me, in the kitchen that morning. Which is ridiculous, right? Itadori doesn’t know what he’s talking about. So I told him to think about it and get back to me. Before he asks me out again.”
Nobara blinks, “what?”
“I am not repeating any of that.”
She pauses, and Megumi shifts in his seat.
“Tsk. You boys and your stupidity.” Nobara shakes her head, huffing out a sigh.
“Fushiguro, as Jujutsu sorcerers our life expectancy is what, 32? Maybe younger?” She’s speaking gently, very unlike her. “I think you need to learn how to let yourself be happy. I mean, Yuuji might be dumb, and sometimes his lack of critical thinking genuinely concerns me. But when he likes someone, I think he’d know. Yuuji isn’t the type of person to take this lightly, especially with how you are. He’s lacking in self-preservation, and borderline suicidal, but the last thing he wants to do is hurt someone. Especially his friends.” By the end of her speech, Nobara is looking so smug Megumi wants to strangle her.
He knows she’s right.
Let yourself be happy.
Before it’s too late, which goes unspoken.
He takes a deep breath, slow to exhale. “I can’t stand you.”
Nobara shrieks with excitement, jumping up, “Oh my god! I broke Fushiguro Megumi! Haha, this is amazing. Fushiguro, does this make us close friends? Tell me we’re close friends!”
The distinction is subtle when spoken, but being willing to die for someone is a lot different than being alive with them.
“I’m leaving.” He stands, gathering his things.
“You can walk away all you want, but I’m right behind you.” She’s grabbing her bag, picking up her pace to match his. “Are you going to find Yuuji? What will you say?”
He doesn’t reply, but Nobara fills the silence.
It's two days later when he finds Yuuji by the training fields, with the upperclassman.
He’s sitting on the bleachers, laughing with Panda.
“Yuuji, can we talk?” He asks hands at his sides.
Yuuji looks surprised to see him, but he nods nonetheless. “Now?”
“If you have time.”
They end up in a sparring room, deserted and stale. But the light is warm through the windows, golden and intoxicating. Megumi can see flecks of dust stir in the air, frenzied with every exhale. “Did you want to fight me, Fushi?” Yuuji says, light-heartedly as he toes off his shoes.
“Not at this moment, no.” Megumi follows suit, joining him on the mat. They stand there, silent, and now Megumi regrets bringing him here. “I like this place. Campus is so big, and there aren’t many people, but no one knows this is even here. I like it.” Megumi shrugs, “Do you want to stretch? Maybe we can spar.”
Yuuji nods again, “Okay.”
They’re sat across from each other, and Megumi is grateful for the distraction. “Can we talk about us?” Megumi starts, glancing at Yuuji.
“If you’re ready to,” He replies softly. Yuuji is holding back, Megumi can tell. Firey, restless energy, constricted underneath dense muscle.
Megumi smiles, a small gentle thing. “I guess I should start by saying sorry,” He inhales, holding his position. “I wasn’t trying to be dismissive of your feelings, but I was. I don’t like that, and I don’t want to do that. Not when you’re… you. You’re confident, Yuuji. And you may not always think things through, but when you know something, you know it with all your being.
I’m not like that. I doubt myself, hold myself back, and don’t know how to trust myself, not the way you do. This… How do I say this?” He pauses, running a hand through his hair. “This affects the way I view others and their intentions. Because, if I don’t, uhm, know how to trust myself, then I’m never one hundred percent sure.”
Yuuji furrows his brow, “So you’re unsure about us? Being a thing?” He asks, no heat behind the words.
“No, that’s not what I’m trying to say. God, why is this shit so hard?” Megumi groans, tugging lightly at his hair. “I like you, Itadori. I have a hard time believing you could want me. Which sounds pathetic, now that I’m saying this out loud. And it’s unfair to you because I know you. And I feel bad pushing all these feelings onto you, yet I still do it!” He cuts himself off, getting too worked up. “I want to try and be happy, annoyingly enough, you make me happy.” He finishes, strained.
I might throw up right now.
Yuuji is silent, staring at him. He’s breathing, Megumi can tell by the rise and fall of his shoulders.
If Megumi’s heart weren’t laid out on the floor, out in the open, and vulnerable to any sudden moves, and if Yuuji weren’t sitting down, Megumi would drop-kick him.
“You make me happy, too.” A smile spreads across Yuuji’s face as he speaks, and soon Megumi is wearing one of his own.
Itadori Yuuji is a disease, and Megumi is terminal.