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The drive there was quite long but it wasn’t like Megumi really cared. He’s never cared for long car rides as long as he has good music to accompany him. Though this time- Satoru was in charge of choosing the music and Megumi wasn’t sure how many more fuckboy songs he could listen to before going insane. Satoru’s music taste was quite questionable, but Megumi would sometimes catch himself slightly bobbing his head along with the beat. He would never admit that out loud though- or even to himself.
Being by Satoru’s side was actually quite comforting, despite him constantly acting like he finds the older man annoying- and okay, maybe he does. He really does. Yet he couldn’t imagine a life without Satoru’s dumb jokes or the way he would take any chance to touch Megumi. Hands on shoulders, a hand on his lower back when they were walking side by side, a sideway hug for no real reason, a comforting pat on the head, a face snuggling to the side of his neck whenever they were alone and comfortable. But perhaps Megumi had been reading into things too much. It wasn’t a crime to be a little clingy with the people you were platonically close with.
Although he found Satoru bothersome, he had still grown to love that annoying manchild. He had learned to accept the man for who he is, even though sometimes he would piss him off. ‘Cause in the end, he really didn’t mind. He loved this man. He loved Satoru, so much. He enjoyed listening to the man’s pointless rants about whatever he was thinking about. He enjoyed putting a blanket on him whenever he’d fall asleep on the couch while watching some overrated movie for the tenth time that week. He loved secretly glancing at him from afar and thinking about being by his side, thinking about holding his hand. He couldn’t dare to think about more, even if keeping all of this inside felt suffocating and painful. It was all bottling up and it felt like it would burst out of him, if he opened his mouth a little bit too much, if he talked a little bit longer, he was sure it would come out of him, all of it. But he really didn’t feel like dealing with the aftermath of his confession, so he really had to keep his mouth shut, more than usual. Satoru had noticed it and thought a little field trip would fix that. Just the two of them. Satoru in the driver’s seat with Megumi in the passenger’s seat. Just Satoru and Megumi. Alone. Together.
And maybe Megumi felt like crying. Maybe he felt like dying. Yet being by Satoru’s side for even a little bit more than usual made his heart flutter, made a smile tug at his lips, his hands shaky, he was happy, he was so happy. He was so scared. So scared of what he could accidentally say, of what he could blurt out. This really wasn’t like him, he usually didn’t have trouble hiding how he feels, tucking it all away behind an emotionless mask. He felt horrible but at the same time he felt like he was on cloud nine. He was so tired of convincing himself that this could work out and then after that calling himself naive and imagining every horrible outcome possible. He didn’t feel like confessing. He was so drained mentally that he couldn’t even dream of it.
So why was he here? Standing at the beach on a cold winter day, letting the wind blow right through him, shaking him like a tree and honestly with the way he was standing still, he could be mistaken for one. A weirdly shaped tree that looked suspiciously like Megumi Fsuhiguro. Megumi. Satoru’s Megumi. He was Satoru’s without the man even asking for it. He’d do anything for him. He’d do anything for that tiresome man. Did he ever mention how beautiful Satoru looked right now? Wind brushing through his hair yet he still managed to look so ethereal. It amazed Megumi, he managed to fall for someone so beautiful, someone who could easily break his heart and probably wouldn’t even bat an eye, yet Megumi would be glad to get that small amount of Satoru’s attention.
And god- now Satoru was looking at him, lips parted, moving, saying something, he was saying something. Yet Megumi couldn’t hear him. He couldn’t hear him, he could no longer even hear the wind. All he could take in was the sound of his heart beating. His hands felt sweaty, he had no idea how that was possible in this weather. He could feel his legs slightly shake and at any time now, he knew his knees would give out too. And without even realizing, he had uttered his confession. It had taken him quite some time to realize what he had just stated.
A part of him hoped that the said “I love you” would have been carried away by the wind, never reaching Satoru. Yet another part of him was glad to get it off his chest. To finally get it out of him. So he wasn’t really sure what to do now. Should he run? Should he say it again? Should he brush it off as a joke? A slip of the tongue? Tell him he erroneously said it to the wrong person- he hadn’t really felt well mentally so he mistook Satoru for someone else, so he was very sorry for the inconvenience and a possible heart attack he might’ve caused-
But Satoru was looking at him- straight at him, eyes slightly wide, just staring and Megumi knew, he knew Satoru had heard him. And he was fucked, oh he was so fucked. He had never felt so uncomfortable under Gojo Satoru’s gaze before. Afraid of what he might say- and oh man, his knees gave out, betraying him. He could feel the cold sand under his knees, it stung slightly, the impact had been quite harsh and he could feel his throat start to hurt, a stabbing pain. Fighting back the urge to start wailing like a small child was painful, so painful that he wanted to run out into the lake and drown himself in the water. He wanted to inhale the cold water and be done with living right then and there. Yet he couldn’t move. All he could do was stare into Satoru’s eyes. It was terrifying. He felt like a powerless kid all over again.
The way Satoru looked at him unblinkingly, face emotionless, told him everything he needed to know and he could feel himself slump, his muscles finally relaxing as he sat on the ground, his legs under him. It might’ve looked embarrassing from an outsider's point of view but he honestly couldn’t care less right now. Megumi’s head hung low as he clutched the fabric of his long slightly loose pants. He felt hopeless, this whole situation made him feel small compared to Satoru, made him feel like a spec of dirt under the white haired man’s expensive shoes.
Finally, he heard a response from Satoru. He didn’t mind that all he heard was an apology and then silence. He had already figured out the answer to his confession while looking at his expression a few seconds ago. Even so he still fell apart right at the moment of hearing Satoru’s reply. His voice sounded so lovely, even when he was breaking Megumi’s heart. And tears dropped on fists that were still clutching his trousers. He felt so defeated. All he could ask at that moment was for Satoru to head back without him, he needed to be alone right now. Just him and his thoughts. All he heard before Satoru left was something about him sending Ijichi to pick Megumi up in a few hours and then he could no longer sense the presence of the man he loved.
It hurt. It really did. Satoru could have at least comforted him, patted him on the top of his head and told him that it was okay, that it was okay to feel like this and that he wasn’t mad. Or maybe even a hug if the older man felt generous enough, but no. He got absolutely nothing. Not even a glance back at him while he was leaving him behind. All Megumi could do was smile bitterly at nothing. So he let himself fall completely on the cool sand, rolling on his back right after to stare at the cloudless sky. The way different shades of vibrant blue mixed together was absolutely gorgeous and Megumi felt himself crying a little bit harder. It could’ve at least been stormy today so he could pass it off as a shitty day and find comfort in the even shittier weather, yet the bright sky was staring back at him, as if trying to mock him.
As he inhaled the chilly winter air that felt like it was freezing his nose off, all he could think about was Satoru. His big hands, his soft hair, his tall and surprisingly muscular build, his alluring eyes- his everything. And now he was crying a lot harder, but at least it was distracting him from the icy breeze that had decided to attack him right at that moment.
Megumi was tired.