Archive of Our Own

They are here.

He can smell them, the two rut heads, stinking up his house. Sniffing around after the only available omega like hungry wolves on the prowl.

After he kicks their shoes petulantly, scattering them around the foyer, he realised that there’s another set of branded sneakers there, bright red and smelling like orange blossoms.

Itadori is here too. 

When there are two strange alphas in Megumi’s den! He can tolerate them around his father because he trusts the older man can handle himself, but Itadori is stupid and gullible and he easily believes alphas who want to take his bag and walk him home only want his friendship, and he also believes that omegas who invite him to share heats only want to share their beds. In a literal sense.

They spent Megumi’s heat sleeping. Megumi’s slightly not over the way Itadori held his hand and fed him water throughout. 

With his mouth.

Megumi’s definitely not over that.

“Dad! I’m home! Where’s Itadori?”

Wet sounds abruptly cease from the kitchen. Megumi grimaces before Toji replies with a strangely even voice. “Welcome back, brat. Your boyfriend’s in your room.”

“Okay. Hello Geto-sensei.” 

More wet sounds. Toji murmurs something.

“Hi Megumi.” Geto finally says, voice hoarse. Eww.

“Hello… Gojo-san.” Megumi says reluctantly. He doesn’t wait to hear the reply.

He storms up, two steps at a time before opening his door and is greeted with a commingled scent of himself and Itadori. Like a forest in spring, fresh off the rain. 

His omega is in his nest. 

Megumi’s heart is going crazy.

Itadori has wrapped himself up in Megumi’s blanket, toes peeking out as he plays his handheld console. “Welcome back Fushiguro!” He yells in excitement, and then groans as the game announces his untimely demise.

Megumi climbs onto his bed, tongue too thick for speech. 

“Come here Fushiguro you must be cold.” Itadori says, mistaking Megumi’s clumsy fumbling as an effort for heat. He pulls him in, wrapping the blanket around both of them, cocooning Megumi in his warmth as he rubs their noses together. “Better?”

Megumi’s face is being held by Itadori. Megumi is never better.

“We have to turn on some music. Gojo-san gets loud.” Megumi says, reluctant to break the mood, but it’s either that or subject Itadori to the weird noises that white haired alpha makes when he’s worked up. 

“Okay.” Itadori agrees brightly, just staring at Megumi. Under the intensity of his stare, Megumi flushes, glancing away.

“I’ll get my earphones.” Megumi trails off as he musters the courage to look back at Itadori. Catching his gaze, Itadori dimples charmingly.

Heat travels from Megumi’s chin to his forehead. Quickly pulling away, before he does something stupid like crawling into Itadori’s t-shirt, he sits up to rummage through his backpack.

Big mistake.

“Omega,” Megumi and Itadori hears someone whine, high pitched and needy. It must be Gojo.

Itadori turns crimson, as his mouth agape. 

As quickly as he can, Megumi tackles Itadori down rolling them into the comforter as he stuffs a earbud in Itadori’s ear. Music, a cacophony of strings and drums swells between them, even as someone whines again.

“They-“ Itadori says, eyes wild. “Both of them huh?”

“Yeah,” Megumi says, not quite sure how to quantify his dad’s relationship with the two alphas. Hitman? Security man? Kept man?

“I didn’t know Fushiguro-otosan was interested in alphas,” Itadori comments, eyes darting downwards once before they snap back up, almost guiltily. 

Megumi realises that he’s been pressing Itadori down with one hand on his chest.

At once he is acutely aware of the swell against his fingers, the rhythm of Itadori’s heart. 

He flexes his fingers in an involuntary spasm, mouth gone dry. Itadori makes a soft wet gasp. 

Oh god.

Oh god, Megumi’s pinky is touching Itadori’s nipple. It’s pressing against the tip of Megumi’s finger.

His mind is nothing but white noise. Around them, their scents have intensified, as though a forest burst into riotous bloom after a fresh rain.  

In a trance, he does it again.

Itadori inhales sharply, eyes closing. His chest jerks, snapping Megumi out of his daze. He flings himself sideways, his own diaphragm heaving irregularly.

From below, the muffled sounds grow more frantic. 

Megumi coughs, eager to interrupt the tension in the room. “My dad’s interested in anything for the right amount.” 

Itadori’s breathing is loud, before he flips himself over. An oddly serious look is on his face.

“What about you?” Itadori asks.

Megumi blinks. A little hysterically, he bites back a laugh, but it overcomes him and he muffles a strangled scream against his arm.

“Fushiguro? Are you okay? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.” 

The music has tapered off, leaving only silence between them. It’s gone quiet downstairs too.

Only the frantic beating of Megumi’s heart is in his ears. He wets his lower lip, pulling his arm away to look at Itadori. 

“Not alphas.” His confession is quiet. A momentary madness overcomes him. “Not betas either.”

“Oh.” Itadori says, pupils blown black.

Megumi bites his lower lip again, just looking at Itadori. He wants to ask Itadori too, but he doesn’t feel brave enough to continue, not after the recent mess with his heat.

“Say something,” Megumi snaps, fear turning him harsh. 

Itadori isn’t saying anything back. 

In his ear, a voice wails plaintively for love. Megumi rips his earphone out, and after pausing for one stupid moment, hoping against futility, pulls out the side from Itadori’s ear too.

“Nevermind,” he mutters to himself. He is almost aware of how his scent has turned bitter, but he’s too overwhelmed to regulate it. Itadori was the one that asked, how dare he be silent. “You should go.”

“Huh? Fushiguro, what-“

“Just go!” Megumi bites out, covering his eyes with his arm. How did things turn out like this - barely half an hour ago, Itadori was purring into his palm. It’s his own sour mood, petty and pessimistic at worst, melancholic at best. 

He feels Itadori get off the bed, his weight shifting as he gathers his stuff. There’s a terrible dread building in his chest, and he wants to apologise but his pride keeps his words locked in his throat. 

Warmth settles next to him. He doesn’t dare to look.

“Hey Fushiguro,” He hears Itadori say. “I think you misunderstood. I don’t know what to say. But I don’t want to leave us like that. So erm…” 

Megumi feels the slightest of pressure against his lips. Then a soft shuddering exhale.

Megumi pulls away in disbelief, just staring at the blush spreading across Itadori. As though he was burnt, Itadori leaps backwards.

Megumi’s lips tingle.

Itadori bolts. Megumi is fast, but Itadori is much much faster, and Megumi has just been kissed so his brain is working on half its usual speed. By the time he reacts, Itadori has leaped over the stairs and is sprinting out of the house, the main door agape behind him.

What the hell? That idiot didn’t even wear his shoes.

Toji pokes his head out of the kitchen. “Was that Yuji-kun? He’s not staying for dinner?” 

Megumi collapses against the bannister.

“Eat.”

Megumi spoons his curry mutinously. There’s parsley on his plate.

The kitchen stinks of sex. How is he even expected to swallow. He says as much, and Toji stares him down, unimpressed.

“You’ve eaten in worse places.”

“Itadori heard.” Megumi says bruquesly. Toji barks a laugh. 

“Don’t give me that, brat. You’ve both walked in on us more than once.”

“That’s because your alphas can’t keep it in their pants.”

Toji doesn’t retaliate, just raises a brow as though asking and the problem is?

“Where are they anyways?”

“Bed,” Toji shrugs.

Bed. Toji’s nest. His lingering confusion turns into irritation, because Toji told him they were casual. That those weird alphas would eventually leave, and it would just be his dad, him and Tsumiki when she returns from university. It’s been a decade but still.

Toji frowns, and Megumi has had enough of the day, and of being overwhelmed. He needs to go think about the almost kiss, and think about how Toji is adding additional alphas into their pack of three, and how they are not welcome-

“Because I thought they would leave! I thought you would get bored,” Megumi says, unable to help lashing out, even though that’s not really what he’s angry at, but his words rise caustic and intent on hurting. “And then they will be gone and it’ll just be us as a family again.”

Toji’s face is blank. His plate, unusually small for his normal portion is pushed to a side and Megumi realises with a start that he intended to eat again, when his stupid alphas woke up from their stupid nap-

He just took a portion to eat with Megumi.

“Did something happen with Yuji?” Toji says, in lieu of a reply to Megumi’s outburst.

Megumi deflates, his anger leaving him as abruptly as it came over. 

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He mutters instead. He wishes Tsumiki was here. Instead he has to talk about feelings with his dad, that’s maybe three heartbeats away from being diagnosed with an antisocial personality disorder. 

“You all but implied that I have a long term relationship with my clients. You can stand me prying into your business.”

Megumi personally doesn’t think that clients would come rushing down in the middle of the night because their business partner is horny, but whatever. He tells Toji about the kiss, only for him to laugh as though Megumi is a great joke.

Megumi scowls.

“He fed you water mouth to mouth during your heat and you’re hung up over a kiss?”

“He was afraid I would choke! It’s a legitimate reason!”

“He’s definitely interested. You both stink like young puppies in heat around each other.” 

“He didn’t say anything, when I said I like omegas.”

“Brat, he probably didn’t know he had a chance. And the first few numbers of his lottery tickets have started to match. The boy’s overwhelmed.”

Megumi sulks, unwilling to engage further. He hates Toji’s gambling metaphors. Petulantly, he fishes out the apples in his curry and dumps them back into the pot. 

Toji sighs and ruffles his hair. “Think about it.” He gets up, taking Megumi’s plate and going back to the stove.

“What are you doing now?” Megumi says suspiciously.

“Cracking an egg.” Toji replies. “Hoping that you two love sick fools come to your senses.” 

Megumi glares at Toji’s broad back, even as his mouth twitches with a half smile. If the two idiot alphas don’t mate his father after stringing him along for years, he’ll make sure they’ll never mate another again.