Work Text:
01:37
Megumi wakes with a start.
His racing heart is beating at his rib cage, blood rushing to his face, his ears, his neck. He’s too hot all over, yet there is a chill creeping down his spine that makes him shiver.
Blood.
Blood seeping out of Yuuji’s chest, on his shoes….
Yuuji.
Megumi pushes himself out of bed, not even bothering to pick up his comforter as it drops to the floor. He has a one-track mind as he shoves his door open, stumbles down the hall and into Itadori’s room.
And there he is.
His pink hair is the only thing Megumi can really see—Yuuji’s covered in blankets, laying on his stomach, face buried in pillows.
Can he even breathe like that? Megumi wonders.
But Yuuji’s back rises and falls, and Megumi lets out his own breath as he approaches the bed.
Itadori stirs, turning his face and body to the side, towards Megumi. An eye creaks open.
“‘Gumi?” His voice is slurred, a hand coming up to rub at his eye.
“I didn’t mean to wake you up,” Megumi whispers, sitting on the edge of the bed. He reaches out and runs a hand through Yuuji’s hair. He hums in approval.
“‘s okay,” Yuuji says, arms linking around Fushiguro’s waist, tugging him into the bed. “What’s wrong?”
Megumi sighs, unease slipping out of his system. “I had a bad dream,” he admits, curling a strand of hair around his finger. “About you.”
Yuuji turns onto his back, looking up at him for a moment, before opening his arms. “C’mere.”
Megumi lifts the blanket and slides in next to Itadori, letting him pull him into his chest. He’s so warm, Fushiguro didn’t realize he was freezing.
“‘m right here,” Yuuji whispers, and Megumi feels him press a kiss to his temple. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Fushiguro buries his face into Yuuji’s neck, pulling him closer, holding him as tight as Yuuji’s holding him. “Good.”
He feels the solid form of Yuuji’s chest against his own, and the quiet yet strong thumps of his heartbeat. Megumi breathes a little easier.
To that steady rhythm, he falls back asleep.
05:32
Megumi wakes next to Yuuji.
At first he’s disoriented, in a different room and different bed than his own, but the memories from the night before come back, and he eases back down.
He looks at Yuuji. The boy is still asleep, face smooshed into the pillow, a line of drool sweeping out his mouth. It makes Megumi smile.
Ever since he came back from the dead, Yuuji has a crease between his eyes, and a clench to his jaw. But here, while he’s drifting in the realm of dreams, he looks softer. The lines on his face vanish, and it’s just the flutter of his eyelashes and the way his mouth moves around a snore.
Megumi reaches out, draws a line with his thumb across his brow, his temple, gently caressing his eyelid, his extra eyelid, and his cheek. Yuuji’s breathing stutters before he sighs and smiles. “‘Gumi.”
Megumi hums, smiling himself.
“‘S time ‘s it?”
“Too early,” Megumi says, and he knows his voice is smitten. He leans forward and kisses Yuuji’s forehead. “Go back to sleep.”
“Only if you do.” Yuuji blindly pats between them until he finds Megumi’s hip, and then scoots closer until they are chest to chest again.
Something Megumi’s learned; Yuuji is clingy when he’s sleepy.
Megumi is happy to please, tucking himself under Yuuji’s chin and listening to his breathing even out again.
He had no intentions of falling back asleep himself, but the grounding weight and heat from the body next to him has his eyelids drooping, his limbs growing heavy….
07:28
Megumi wakes to being kissed.
It’s a gentle pressing to his cheekbone, so soft he almost thinks he imagined it, before there’s a ghosting breath and a kiss is placed to the corner of his mouth.
He turns, catching Yuuji’s mouth with his own, a hand gripping Yuuji’s hair to keep him steady. Itadori’s breath catches, and Megumi kisses him deeper.
When they pull back, Yuuji is staring down at him, brown eyes hazy with sleep and something else, pink, pink lips curling into a smile. “Good morning,” he whispers, voice rough and raspy.
Megumi tickles the back of Yuuji’s neck just to watch him shudder. “Good morning.”
Yuuji leans down again, this time kissing Megumi’s jaw, lips light and teasing as he makes his way down his throat, nipping at where his collarbone juts out, tugging at the hem of his shirt.
Fushiguro helps him get rid of it, landing somewhere on the floor, not that either care. Megumi is more concerned with the way Yuuji’s kissing his chest, the line of his abdomen, his stomach.
When he reaches his hipbones, he stops, only tugs the waistband down far enough to reach a scar Megumi has across it. The skin is pink and raised but no more sensitive. Still, Yuuji decides to care to it, kissing it once, twice, three times over.
He runs his fingertips up and down Megumi’s sides, watching the way gooseflesh raises, listening to the way he shivers. Megumi can feel Yuuji’s smirk against his hip. “Yuuji,” he calls, reaching for his back, hands hooking on his shoulder blades to tug Yuuji back up.
He settles heavily on top Megumi, but he doesn’t mind. The skin-on-skin contact is welcome, Yuuji’s weight on him comforting. He turns his face into Yuuji’s neck and his nose lands behind his ear. He smells like skin, and the faint scent of strawberry shampoo lingers in his hair.
Smells like Yuuji.
He pushes up and over, flipping them so Megumi is the one hovering over Itadori. Yuuji reaches up and cups Megumi’s face, and he promptly begins to melt. Yuuji clicks his tongue.
“You’re so pretty.”
Megumi shakes his head, smirk tugging at his lips. “Shut up,” he whispers, and he leans down and seals their lips.
Yuuji kisses back enthusiastically, arms looping around Fushiguro’s neck, lips parting eagerly. Megumi licks into his mouth, reveling in the high sounds leaving Yuuji’s throat.
When he drags his mouth down Yuuji’s chin, he doesn’t make a big deal of it like the other did, simply finds the spot where his neck meets his shoulder and latches on.
“Nooooo, Megumi,” Yuuji whines, “That’s gonna leave a mark.”
Fushiguro hums, nipping as he pulls away. “Good.”
“I have training with Gojou-sensei later.”
Megumi smirks. “Even better.”
“You’re such a hypocrite,” Yuuji says. “You’re just as much of an ass as he is.”
“I’m offended,” Megumi says, no offense in his voice present.
“He’s going to give you hell too, you know.”
“Hmm,” is all Fushiguro says, falling back into Yuuji.
Despite his fussing, Yuuji wraps his arms around him, burying his face in Megumi's hair.
Megumi blinks, running his eyelashes against Yuuji’s collarbone. He squirms. “Tickles.”
Megumi smiles, turning his head to rest against Yuuji’s pectoral. He hears the thumping of his heart.
Yuuji’s here, and he’s his, and he’s not going anywhere.
“Do you want breakfast?” Itadori asks, hand caressing Megumi’s shoulder.
Megumi shakes his head. “Few more minutes.”
Yuuji’s stomach growls. Megumi laughs.
“Okay, fine.” He sits up, pulling Yuuji with him. “You should make those eggs you made last week….”
23:55
Megumi can’t fall asleep.
Worry seeps into his system, fears of nightmares plaguing his mind.
He never realized how cold his room was at night.
He finds himself crawling out of bed, walking down the hall….
He finds Yuuji sitting on his bed, lamp by his bedside turned on, flipping through a volume of manga. He looks up at the sound of his door. “‘Gumi,” he says, voice fond. Megumi’s chest fills with warmth at the sound.
He climbs onto Yuuji’s bed without sound, and Yuuji accommodates swiftly. He lets Megumi fit in the space between his legs, head on his chest, and Yuuji’s arms fit snug around him. A heavy blanket is draped around the both of them.
Megumi listens to the sound of Yuuji’s breathing, the fwip of pages turning, the thumping of Yuuji’s heart valves, opening, closing, opening….
After a while, the light goes out, but the dark is welcome, no less warm with a body beneath and around him.
“Goodnight,” Yuuji whispers, and a kiss is placed on the top of his head.
“Goodnight,” Megumi whispers back, nuzzing further into Yuuji’s sweatshirt.
And like that, Megumi finds sleep.