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Not long before two in the morning, Megumi stirred in his sleep. He was panting, his chest heaving rapidly. He tried hard to contain the tears that threatened to spill and forced them down. His breath was loud through his nose and his head dizzy. The nightmares, even months after the events, were just as vivid and seemed just as real as the day the incident had happened. Itadori’s heart ripped out of his chest, his last words delivered with a smile and eyes so gentle. Like every night it happened, Megumi willed himself to slow his breathing, counting along as he slowly inhaled and exhaled, and forced himself to remember all of it was in the past and Itadori was fine. So alive and fine that they were resting in the same bed, on the same pillow. Megumi had Itadori in his arms, his pink head nuzzled in the crook of his shoulder. He was fine. They were fine.
The sight of his boyfriend sleeping peacefully helped him bring his breathing back to normal. A small smile pulled at his lips and the warmth of their embrace almost put him to sleep again. He swiped his hand across his forehead to try and get rid of the sweat, and he must have been moved around too much since Itadori stirred up and slowly opened his eyes. He stared at Megumi through his lashes, the sweetest and softest and most loving smile on full display. Only for Megumi.
Fushiguro tightened his hold on the other boy, hands still slightly shaking from the remnants of his nightmare. He was fine. They were fine.
Yuuji propped himself on his elbow to get a better look at his boyfriend. Even in the dark of the night, only with the moon shining and illuminating his delicate face, he could see the slightly tense brows, the clenching jaw.
He lifted a hand and laid it on Fushiguro’s bare chest, right above his heart. His fingers started drawing those little circles he knew helped Fushiguro ground himself. The low thumping under his palm slowed. Gaze still locked with Fushiguro’s, Yuuji pulled himself a little higher on the bed, just high enough to press a warm kiss to the other boy’s nose. His hand slid from chest to shoulder to neck to jaw and his thumb swept across remnants of almost dried tears. He offered him a smile as warm as he could with his middle-of-the-night-puffy eyes.
“Another nightmare?” Yuuji asked, his voice still drowsy from sleep, even if he knew it was. He knew it from the dozen times it had happened before. The pain, the death. He knew it came back to haunt Fushiguro more often than not, waking him up at night. But he also knew it wasn’t every night that the acknowledgment of these nightly terrors helped.
“Just hungry,” Fushiguro said instead, not bothering to lie convincingly. Sometimes he needed to forget them and pretend it never happened.
Fushiguro eyed him, almost pleading for the other boy to believe him, or at least pretend he did.
Yuuji slowly nodded and sat up, hand still pressed to Fushiguro’s jaw. He dropped a final kiss before saying, “Let’s get you some food, then.”
Hand in hand, they made their way to the small kitchen of the dorms. Their steps and yawns resonated in the empty hallways as they walked past empty bedrooms. Yuuji’s eyes were half-closed, his steps dragging and heavy, but he was more than happy to accompany Fushiguro to get his night snack. It was a small thing to go get a snack in the middle of the night, but the fact Fushiguro had wanted him to come, that Fushiguro walked half-asleep hand-in-hand with him, made his heart flutter.
At the beginning of their relationship, it had been harder for Yuuji to get Fushiguro to open up and let himself be touchy and cuddly with his boyfriend, even if the dark-haired boy had been the one to confess his feelings first. For the first weeks, every move seemed calculated, thought out way too much. It always seemed like a debate whenever he wanted to grab Yuuji’s hand, when he hesitated before retracting his arm instead of wrapping it around his shoulders. Every time his gaze fell on Yuuji’s lips, the latter could almost see the internal turmoil Fushiguro was going through. It made his heart ache. The subtle movements, the twitch he tried to hide, the unease it brought him.
But the other boy always saw through him, always noticed the jerk of his fingers, and laced both their hands together. He always caught the clenched jaw and focused gaze that fell on him whenever they were close. With time and smiles and reassurance, he got Fushiguro to open. It was a slow process, but one Yuuji was more than willing to follow, if it meant a happier and more carefree Fushiguro. Yuuji still usually took the lead to initiate contact, but once that was done, there was no way Fushiguro would let go first. He’d squeeze tighter, relax further, kiss harder. Those were his favorite moments. The ones when Fushiguro forgot his worries and let himself do what he longed for. If all Yuuji had to do to see that side of him was to grab his hand first, he was ready to do it for the rest of his short life.
It the empty hallway of the dorms, Yuuji dropped a kiss on Fushiguro’s shoulder and whispered, “I love you.”
Once in the kitchen, Yuuji sat on a stool behind the counter, chin resting in hand to keep himself from falling face first against the hard countertop.
His eyes trailed after Fushiguro. Fushiguro taking out a cereal box and pouring some in a bowl. Fushiguro submerging it in milk. Fushiguro, oh so pretty, taking a spoon out of the drawer and circling the kitchen island to sit on the counter next to Itadori. Fushiguro and his long legs swinging off the edge.
Fushiguro. Fushiguro. Fushiguro .
So close, so caring, so not wearing a shirt.
He had to thank the hotter–yet filled with cuddles–nights for that. Itadori didn’t even try to hide the fact he was staring. The drowsiness was dissipating, and sweet thoughts started making their way to his head, good memories, happy thoughts only.
Even if the munching was the only sound around, he didn’t dare break the silence that had settled between them. He’d usually fill it with talk about movies,–one of the rare topics he could talk about for hours–any of the several he had watched for his training, or whatever else was on his mind. But this time, whether it was because of his sleepy brain or how beautiful Fushiguro looked in the moonlight, he stayed silent.
Sooner than Yuuji would have liked, Fushiguro finished eating. He stood up and set to washing his bowl and spoon, both boys knowing too well Maki would be pissed if he left dirty dishes on the counter again. As he was placing the bowl back on the shelf, warm hands snaked their way around his waist and a chin dropped on his shoulder. A soft song started playing in the background, filling the air with a familiar tune.
Yuuji kept him there, stuck almost flushed with the cabinets, his chest pressed to Fushiguro’s, wrapped in a tight embrace. He stayed that way for the whole song, humming known passages and giggling when he started singing too early for a part. Although he couldn’t see it, he knew Fushiguro was smiling by the amused huffed breaths that escaped him.
A second song started, one that Yuuji had heard Fushiguro sing when he thought no one was listening. With his back to Yuuji, it was easier for Fushiguro to forget and sing, sometimes harmonizing with the other voice or humming the guitar strums known by heart. His head bopped to the beat of the song, fingers tapping on the counter in rhythm with the drums. It was one of the cutest things Yuuji had ever seen him do.
At the end of the song, Itadori loosened his arms just enough to let Megumi turn and face him.
When he spun around, his eyes met watery ones right above flushed cheeks and a scrunched-up nose.
“Did that really make you cry?” he teased.
“These are actually from how painful it is to listen to you sing.”
Worry flashed through Megumi’s eyes, his eyebrows creasing slightly. It went away just as fast as it had come when eyes filled with nothing but fondness locked with his.
So close, so tender. It would be so easy to just lean in and kiss the tense spot right between those loving brown eyes.
So he did.
Then kissed the tip of his nose, both his cheeks, down to his neck and back up to warm lips. He lived for moments like these. Quiet, happy moments with his loved one. During the day, Megumi would often wish for the jujutsu work to be over so he could go back to admiring Itadori. As beautiful and strong Itadori looked when exorcising curses, Megumi was usually too busy to admire him.
Once the work was done, he’d turn around and flash a sunny smile. The way it was always so bright, so true and sincere, lighting up the whole room always impressed Megumi. Even with his eyes closed, probably exhausted from the last long days and short nights, his smile was the one thing to never waver.
He cupped Itadori’s cheeks and leaned back in, pressing their lips together. He pulled back a few moments later, offering a break barely long enough to utter, “I love you, too,” before he went back to kissing the pink-haired boy. Their noses bumped as he tilted his head further.
As a new song started, Megumi lightly pulled away and pressed their foreheads together, trying to recognize where he had heard the melody. It tickled the back of his mind, the memory so fresh yet so far away.
“It’s from the seventh Harry Potter movie. We watched it last week,” Itadori explained, apparently having read the question off Magumi’s face.
He hummed in remembrance. He did recall watching the movie, but the memories were mostly of how well Itadori had fit in his arms while they laid in bed. Watching the movie hadn’t been their first cuddling session, but he was still fascinated by how natural it felt for them to be pressed one against the other, wrapped in too many blankets and wearing each other’s hoodies. So that was why he couldn’t remember where it was from. Not that he minded remembering thoughts of a warm body over the ones of Harry defeating the angry no-nose man.
Itadori kissed his jaw and slid Megumi’s slender hands to his hips, taking his own and placing them to Megumi’s nape. He dropped his head in the crook of his neck and hummed to the song. Slowly, their bodies picked up the rhythm and swayed to the beat of the song. Itadori’s English was sloppy, his words mumbled as he tried to sing both the lead and the harmonies. But neither of them cared.
Taking hold of one of Itadori’s hands, Megumi started rocking their bodies back and forth. They danced in small circles, chest pressed together, breaths mixing. All eyes were closed as they swayed, nearly tripping over the other’s feet. The ground was smooth and slippery, almost sending them tumbling more than once. They let out breathy laughs, careful not to make too much noise.
Megumi grabbed Itadori’s hand, pushed him away gently and made him twirl twice before bringing him close again. The pair took turns whirling each other around, dancing an improvised valse in between the pirouettes, nearly sending their partner to the ground many times, bumping in the corner of the island once, a grunt escaping Megumi at the impact. Itadori slid his free hand along Fushiguro’s hip as he traced an old scar. It sent shivers through his whole body, making his spine arch slightly.
When the song ended, Itadori’s lips were on Megumi’s neck, tenderly nibbling at the skin. His kisses lowered all the way to high collarbones before building back up to a soft mouth, where warm lips were waiting for him. Megumi felt his knees go weak at the touch. He let out a loud sigh as Itadori’s hand tilted his head further.
The kisses stayed slow as he smiled against Itadori. His hands trailed up Itadori’s back, stroking his sides and pulling him even closer. No matter how many times they kissed, how much time they spent in each other’s arms, Megumi knew this was something he could never get tired of. The heat that warmed up his whole being, the gentleness from every movement, the ease all of it came with. It almost felt too good to be true. Almost.
Yuuji slowly pulled away as another song came to an end. He blushed at the sight of Fushiguro, with his lips still parted, his eyes hungry for more still locked on Yuuji’s mouth. He gulped and licked his reddened lips. For someone who wouldn’t initiate the kisses, Fushiguro always surprised him with how shamelessly he plunged back into every kiss.
He cleared his throat and managed a “Let’s go back to bed,” before lips were on his again, addictively invading his senses.
Fushiguro grunted in response, not moving an inch. His hold on Yuuji’s waist was loose but unwavering.
“Fushiguro, baby,” he said when pulling away, “we need to get up at six. That’s in less than four hours. Let’s go back to bed.”
Fushiguro groaned and dropped his head against Yuuji’s shoulder. His nose grazed the skin when he pressed a kiss at the base of his neck.
“One more song,” Fushiguro breathed, hot on his skin, and added, “And I get to be the little spoon afterwards.”
Yuuji smiled at that, stroking his hair with his free hand.
“Anything for you.”
And so they danced again to a song Fushiguro could sing. His soft and low voice filled the room, making shivers run up and down Itadori’s spine. The pair twirled and wobbled on tired legs and kissed for far longer than a single song.