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The moment Sukuna opened the door of the flat he shared with his brother, his jaw clenched.
People he never remembered meeting before were scattered all around the living room, empty beer bottles and red plastic cups littered every available surface, and the loud music made Sukuna’s budding headache explode.
Yuuji was in a corner, chatting with two guys and a girl, college acquaintances, probably. Sukuna had just returned from a semester abroad and was now working on his final thesis, so he didn’t have time to play buddy with his brother’s new friends.
Sukuna, unexpectedly, wouldn’t have minded joining - had Yuuji informed him before he decided to throw a party - but he was freshly out of a frustrating meeting with his supervisor. The man was an idiot, and the moment Sukuna would steal the chair of Japanese Language and Literature professor from under his ass couldn’t come soon enough.
Sneaking through the crowd, Sukuna snatched something to eat from the kitchen and hid in his room without bothering to say hello to anyone. The babble of the party, of people celebrating the end of the exam session, was barely muffled by the door. He was only glad to find nobody was fucking on his bed.
After a quick change of clothes, Sukuna plopped down on the bed and put his headphones on.
Imagining the way he'd wake up Yuuji in the morning to have him clean the flat, indifferent to his almost certain hungover, Sukuna fell asleep with a devious smile.
-
Sukuna woke up in the middle of the night and refused to open his eyes. The house around him had returned to silence, the headphones rested uncomfortably crooked on his head, and someone was sleeping beside him.
Bewildered, and still heavy with sleep, Sukuna forced his eyes open. Beside him, laying on his stomach, was a boy curled up in the corner of the quilt. In the dim light, all he could see was a mass of black hair and a back regularly moving to the rhythm of his breathing.
Sukuna blinked, then jerked up on the bed.
“What the hell?”
The boy, still clenching the hem of the blanket, lazily turned on his side, facing Sukuna. He slowly opened his eyes - bright green and red-rimmed - and stared blearily at Sukuna.
“Who— “
The boy raised a finger out of the cocoon of blankets, “I have to go to the bathroom,” he drawled, voice still rough from sleep, and got out of the bed. He dressed too lightly for the cold winter night, and a shiver ran visibly through his body as soon as his bare feet touched the floor. “Could you get me a pyjama bottom?” he asked in a mutter. “My jeans are uncomfortable.”
Sukuna was left alone in his room, drowsy, baffled, and amazed at the boy’s nerve. He freed himself from his headphone’s cable, and, without thinking, he drew out a deep red pyjama from his nightstand.
The boy came back and looked surprised to find not only the bottom he had asked for but even a long-sleeved shirt. Sukuna looked at him with a raised eyebrow, but the boy didn’t say anything. He changed in the middle of the room, unbothered by Sukuna who couldn't tear his eyes from his long legs.
The shirt sagged on his shoulder and was a bit too short on his arms, but the boy didn’t seem to mind. He crawled back under the covers and curled up closer to Sukuna than he had been before, like a cat searching for warmth.
“What are you— “ Sukuna tried.
The boy hushed him and put a finger on Sukuna’s lips - his hands were nice, Sukuna noticed. “Sleep,” he murmured.
And Sukuna was too tired to keep on trying, his eyelids were heavy and the boy's skin radiated a nice warmth under the covers. He’d figure it out in the morning. For now, he scuffled a bit closer to the boy’s warmth and fell asleep.
-
The sun was already up when Sukuna woke up - he had forgotten to close the shutters the night before, fuck.
He was alone in the room. On a rapid inspection, the boy had left the pyjama folded on his desk. On top of it, a scribbled note read a small thanks .
-
After a weekend spent bugging Yuuji to clean the mess from his party, Monday came. Sukuna was on his way to class when, for the first time, he noticed how many people had black hair in that college. He wasn’t looking for anyone in particular of course, he just happened to notice.
At lunch, Yuuji was not in the cafeteria, which wasn’t surprising since his department was on the other side of campus, but it still annoyed Sukuna for some reason.
“Who are you looking for?" Uraume asked uninterestedly, watching with a raised eyebrow the sandwich they had bought.
“My brother.”
Uraume was now looking at him with a raised eyebrow. The way the ketchup from the sandwich was dripping down their hands was out of tune with their perfectly bobbed white hair. “Why?"
“Can’t I look for my brother?”
“You never look for your brother.”
“I’ve been abroad. Things change.”
“Not so much.”
Fuck Uraume and the fact that they had been knowing each other all their lives. “Shut up.”
Uraume did, but for some reason, it made it all worse.
-
It couldn’t go on like that, Sukuna admitted after the third day he had spent craning his neck all over the campus in the hope of catching a glimpse of the boy. The note he had left had been neatly folded and stashed in the drawer of Sukuna’s desk.
It wasn’t like he could ask Yuuji “hey, who was the brat sleeping in my bed the night of the party?” and expose himself to his endless teasing.
There was a way only and Sukuna already hated it.
-
“Let’s have a party,” Sukuna said, falling on the plastic chair at the breakfast table.
Yuuji slowly raised his eyes from his cereals. “Who are you and what have you done with my brother?”
Sukuna was sick and tired of being surrounded by people who knew him. “I couldn't go last time.”
“You hate parties,” Yuuji said matter-of-factly. “You want small groups of people pending from your lips and kissing the ground you walk on.”
“You’re saying I can’t do that at a party?”
Yuuji sighed and got up to put the bowl in the sink. “Who do we invite?”
Sukuna tried to sound offhanded. “The people you called last time. And some of my friends.”
He left the house before Yuuji could reply.
-
Sukuna was in a corner, drinking and chatting with his usual group of friends. The party around them was in full swing. With the corner of his eyes, he sent glances towards Yuuji, keeping an eye on who he was talking to. There had been no interesting movements so far.
Right now, Yuuji was intently chatting with a white-haired guy, a teacher assistant. Sukuna had met him for the first time the year before, when he had had a class with him, and hated his guts since the moment he had laid eyes on him - who wore sunglasses while teaching, anyway? Sukuna was sure the feeling was mutual.
The bastard leaned a bit too close towards Yuuji, and Sukuna could swear the blush on his brother’s cheeks was only partially due to the alcohol he was drinking. Sukuna had better investigate the matter.
Making way through the sea of people, Sukuna reached Yuuji and put an elbow on his shoulder, startling him.
“Sukuna,” he squeaked, jumping on the spot. “You’ve met Gojo?”
Gojo gave a small, annoying laugh. He was still wearing his sunglasses. “Yes, we’ve met.”
“What are you doing here?” Sukuna asked unceremoniously.
“I was invited.”
“I don’t remember inviting you,”
“Yuuji did,” Gojo, from above his lenses, watched Yuuji with his light blue eyes, and Sukuna was pretty sure his brother was combusting on the spot. “He said he’d be glad if I came. Unfortunately, I had to miss the last party.”
Sukuna didn’t like that he was already on a first-name basis with his brother but was distracted when Yuuji jerked away from him, almost making him fall face-first on the floor.
“Fushiguro,” he called out to someone.
Sukuna turned to face the intruder, annoyance clear in his face. It disappeared the moment he saw who that Fushiguro guy was.
Finally, Sukuna could look at the boy of that night clearly in the face. His features were sharper when not mellowed by sleep, but his lanky figure remained elegant.
Fushiguro's presence seemed to distract Gojo from Sukuna.
"Megumi," he raised his glass at him. “You said you wouldn’t come.”
“I changed my mind,” bright green eyes fixed on Sukuna, attracting Yuuji’s attention.
"You still haven’t Sukuna, right?"
"I haven’t had the pleasure," Sukuna drawled, smirking at Fushiguro.
Uraume chose that moment to call him from the other side of the room, he was required for a drinking game, apparently.. Yuuji’s attention was already back on Gojo, and he doubted he’d notice his leaving. But he could feel Fushiguro’s eyes trailing after him.
Sukuna turned back after a few steps. “Fushiguro Megumi,” he said. “You owe me one.”
The pink shade painting the tip of his ears was delicious.