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Megumi is exhausted. The missions have been piling up for weeks now, with new assignments coming in even when he’s in the car heading back from the ones he’s just completed. The others at Jujutsu Tech have still had their share, but since he’d been promoted to special grade sorcerer, the workload assigned to Megumi had nearly doubled. The higher ups were still hesitant to send Yuuji out on as many missions, worried that if things went wrong, Sukuna would come out to play.
It was stupid. Yuuji had complete control of him, and no slip-ups in over a year, but seemingly no one had the ability to change those idiots’ minds when they got fixated on an idea. By contrast, they had no problem sending Megumi out into the field over and over, now that he “could be trusted to handle more difficult threat levels”; even when said threats were occurring in the middle of the exam period, and none of them were dangerous enough to warrant sending a special grade sorcerer. And since Gojo’s timing about when to play the part of a responsible teacher who cared about quality education was remarkably selective, Megumi had no leeway on deadlines. He had spent all of his free moments cramming for tests that arguably bore no merit now that he was one of an elite class of only five living sorcerers.
Final exams had officially ended yesterday, and he had planned to have movie night (also known as eating snacks and falling asleep on the couch) with Yuuji and Nobara, until yet another call dragged him away right when Yuuji was starting on his special homemade gyoza.
The mission was hours outside of Tokyo, and even once he’d arrived, it had taken a while to locate the cursed spirits he was after. It was a grade one, with a strange cursed energy signature that evaded tracking even by his dogs, but the curse eventually got careless enough to attack. It took him by surprise initially, but wasn’t difficult to exorcise once it revealed itself. Still, his whole body is aching at this point from getting smacked around by that initial attack, not to mention the soreness that had built up from day after day of missions with no breaks. And to top it off, he hadn’t gotten more than five hours of sleep a night for probably three weeks.
Megumi closes his eyes and lets his head lean against the headrest of the car. It was early afternoon already, and he had been awake all night. They were headed back to campus, where Megumi had been told he would finally have a few days off to recuperate. He was close to throwing a tantrum if the assholes in charge of assigning missions decided to go back on their word. He had nodded off on the highway only to wake again restlessly for hours now, the rough vibrations jolting him out of sleep every time his head listed sideways against the car window. He’s almost falling asleep again when the car stops.
Megumi jerks his head up, already reaching for the door handle, but they’re just stopped at a gas station. Ijichi disappears into the convenience store while the gas is pumping, and returns with a bottle of water and a prepackaged bento, which he gives to Megumi with a pinched, sympathetic smile when he sees him awake. Bless Ijichi, never let anyone say that he wasn’t the true MVP of these missions.
By the time they pull into the parking lot at Jujutsu Tech, Megumi is ready to collapse into bed until the next day. Assuring Ijichi that yes, he’ll finish the mission report the next day, he promises (okay, maybe he should take back that part about being the MVP), Megumi grabs his towel and clean clothes and goes straight to the shower, brushing his teeth while he waits for the water to heat up, then scrubbing the sweat and dried blood out of his hair as quickly as possible.
It’s 4:00 in the afternoon. Close enough to bedtime. Yeah.
When Megumi shuffles into his room, Yuuji is lounging on his bed—he must have heard the shower running and come over. Megumi sighs internally, though he keeps his face carefully blank. He doesn’t want to hurt Yuuji’s feelings, but he’s sore and cranky and wants to go to sleep. He doesn’t feel up to chatting and sharing funny stories—or interacting with other humans at all, really.
Yuuji must have caught on. He’s more observant than anyone gives him credit for, and his bright expression softens a little at Megumi’s defeated posture. “Hi,” he says with a small smile. “Welcome back.”
“Hi,” Megumi returns rather unenthusiastically. Yuuji is stretched out on the side against the wall, which he has lined with overstuffed pillows, and he’s hugging another one to his front, to practically surround himself in a cushiony fortress. As Megumi approaches, though, he shifts over to make room on the wall side—the side that Megumi always likes the best—patting the mattress in invitation. Megumi hesitates for a few seconds at the foot of his bed, deliberating, before he gives in and crawls over to lay down between Yuuji and the wall of pillows.
And wow, it’s really cozy. Everything has been pre-warmed by Yuuji’s bodyheat, and the pillows are almost embracing him. Yuuji must have brought most of them from his own room, since Megumi only has two on his bed.
Then Yuuji’s arms are enfolding him, pulling him in gently. “You must be tired, baby,” his voice is low, and he squeezes Megumi gently as he speaks, then relaxes his arms. He doesn’t say anything else, just slowly starting to rub his back. His other hand is resting on the back of Megumi’s neck, and the gesture almost feels protective somehow. It also feels like Yuuji’s trying to keep him there, like maybe he’s worried Megumi will shy away.
“Hm,” Megumi hums noncommittally after too long of a pause. Resisting Yuuji’s affections, his own exhaustion, his constantly repressed desire for comfort, is becoming more difficult and more pointless every day that goes by. So he lets himself relax, because this is nice. Nicer than he expected. All he can see is the dark blue cotton of Yuuji’s t-shirt, and so he just closes his eyes. It’s another over-long pause before he elaborates at all. “Yeah. Just sore, and really tired,” his voice is already slow from drowsiness, and the all the warmth and gentle touches aren’t helping keep him awake. His head is resting on Yuuji’s chest, right over his heart, and he can feel the way his ribcage rises and falls steadily with his breath.
“Sore?” Yuuji gives another gentle squeeze. “You’ve been non-stop running around and fighting a lot recently, I’m not surprised.”
“Mm,” Megumi agrees. It’s his back mostly, from twisting and maneuvering while he fights. And from getting tossed into a brick wall at 7:00 this morning. When it’s quiet for another second Megumi can hear Yuuji’s heartbeat. It’s muffled, but consistent and regular against his ear.
All of a sudden he feels guilty for wanting to brush Yuuji off and be alone when he first came into the room. Megumi hates that he expects anything less than kindness and understanding from Yuuji, hates that life has taught him that people will disappoint him, or that they won’t notice or care about Megumi’s feelings. With Yuuji, that is always, always proven wrong. Yuuji notices, and he cares, and he’s kind and gentle and he makes Megumi’s heart do very strange and uncomfortable things.
Yeah, this is better that collapsing in bed alone and passing out, Megumi decides.
Yuuji’s hands move then, jostling him lightly. Slowly, carefully, he starts to press his fingers against the aching muscles in his lower back, kneading at the tension. He works his way slowly up either side of Megumi’s spine, massaging across his upper back and shoulders, and Megumi is completely boneless. He lets himself rest limply, half on top of Yuuji, eyes shut and already hovering closer and closer to sleep.
This is so fucking nice. No one in his entire life has ever done this for him. He would probably have some kind of angsty response to that realization if he wasn’t so relaxed right now.
“Does that feel okay?” Yuuji checks, fingers still rubbing firm circles into the space between Megumi’s shoulderblades. Megumi just makes a sound that is probably bordering on indecent, but he can’t bring himself to care. The touch has just the right amount of pressure to ease the tension that’s accumulated throughout his body in the past few weeks. Yuuji huffs a laugh through his nose and keeps going.
The kneading pressure where his shoulder joins his neck has him sighing, lips parting to inhale and exhale slowly. Yuuji’s hands are large, crossed with callouses and scars, and perfectly suited for this. He works his way slowly back down the length of Megumi’s spine, until he is barely conscious, then gentles his motion back into broad, even strokes along his back. Megumi sighs again sleepily, content.
“You’re so sweet like this,” Yuuji whispers. He smooths a strand of hair back from Megumi’s face, fingers lingering at his temple, his earlobe.
“Mh?” Megumi hums in question.
“I just mean…sometimes you’re so…prickly. It’s sweet when you let me take care of you,” Yuuji finishes, voice still a whisper. Megumi starts to raise his head, until Yuuji’s warm palm guides it back down to lay on his chest again. “It’s okay, you can go to sleep, Megu.”
He feels hazy for an interminable amount of time, and he eventually does fall asleep. When he stirs later, he’s not sure how long it’s been, but it’s dark outside. Yuuji’s squirming must have woken him, or maybe the dialogue of the video he’s playing from his phone, glow illuminating his profile. His free arm is still curled around Megumi, one leg still slotted between his. It’s the kind of dazed waking that Megumi only faintly remembers later, not sure if it really happened, and he falls asleep again in seconds.
—
When he wakes up fully, Megumi feels overheated, squeezed into the bed against what’s essentially a furnace in the form of a young man. Yuuji has shifted in the night, not hugging him but flopped down on his back and lying diagonally, his legs and one arm in Megumi’s space. He’s not wearing a shirt anymore, just his sweatpants, golden skin on display. Despite all the pillows he had brought in, there isn’t one under his head, but just loosely piled around him in a scatter. Megumi sits up as carefully as he can, untangling himself and crossing his legs under him. He blinks around, just sitting and taking a moment to wake up.
He feels well rested, finally. It must be early still, if the pale light bleeding through the curtain is anything to go by. Yuuji’s phone is lying on the mattress a few feet away, and Megumi stretches an arm out to tap the screen. He has to rub his eyes and check again when he sees the time. 6:38. Damn, that’s…fourteen hours of sleep. Not bad, not bad at all. Megumi doesn’t really remember the last time he slept that long.
It’s quiet, just the whisper of the bedding whenever Megumi moves, and Yuuji’s even breathing. The heating unit in the corner of the room shudders and kicks to life, humming.
He looks at Yuuji, observes him. The way he breathes when he’s asleep is cute, mouth slightly open and face completely slack. His hair is getting longer, brushing at the middle of his forehead now, and the pink stands out against the white of the sheets. He’s cute, Megumi thinks, smiling down at him. His toes curl, almost an unconscious action. That’s his boyfriend. His sweet, lovely, adorable boyfriend. Megumi badly wants to kiss the little marks under his eyes, but he’s worried it will disturb Yuuji, so he just carefully extricates himself from the scattered pillow fortress and pads into the bathroom to get himself ready for the day.
For the first time in a while, Megumi doesn’t really feel like he needs coffee. He makes green tea instead, and sits at the kitchen table to drink it while he scrolls through his phone. He’s been drinking more and more tea anyways since he and Yuuji got together, since it’s his preference. Yuuji still tastes Megumi’s coffee every time he sees him drinking it, and without fail wrinkles his nose up at the taste.
Megumi answers a few ignored texts from the last couple of days, then switches to organizing his camera roll, deleting unnecessary photos and putting screenshots of restaurants he wants to try out and things he wants to do into an album. Then he stares out the window and drinks the rest of his lukewarm tea. It rained in the night, and outside is all misty now. It looks like it must be cold, and Megumi’s glad he keeps the heat running in his dorm even though fall has just started.
It’s about an hour before he hears Yuuji stir, and then there are rustles and a dramatic yawn. Megumi has moved into the kitchenette area to rewarm his cup of tea and to look out the window above the sink at the dew on the grass. He hears more rustling, the bathroom door clicking and the sink running, Yuuji cursing as he bumps into the doorframe. Megumi smiles to himself and starts to make more tea, in case Yuuji wants any.
Yuuji’s footsteps make the hardwood creak a little in the spots it always creaks in, and then his arms are circling around Megumi. He jumps a little, somehow not expecting the hug even though he heard Yuuji’s approach, but relaxes into it, his hand going up to curl around Yuuji’s forearm where it rests across his stomach.
“Good morning,” he says in greeting. Yuuji has his chin on Megumi’s shoulder, and Megumi pushes down the happy little jitter is gives him as he turns his head to kiss Yuuji, just a soft peck.
“A very good morning,” Yuuji agrees, follows him and nuzzles against his cheek when he turns his head back to the front. “Did you get enough sleep?”
Megumi snorts, then realizes Yuuji isn’t teasing him, is just genuinely asking after his well-being. “Uh, yeah, about fourteen hours, so I think that’s enough,” he says with a smile. “I feel very awake right now.”
“Hm,” Yuuji says, tucks his face into Megumi’s neck. “That makes one of us.” His voice is still scratchy from sleep, in a way that Megumi’s never heard before. He likes it.
“Here, then. I have tea,” he pulls out the strainer and sets it by the sink. He tries to hold the cup in front of Yuuji’ face, but it’s ignored in favor of rubbing his face in the crook of Megumi’s neck. It tickles, makes Megumi smile of reflex and raw his shoulders up in defense. “Yuuji.” The boy in question hasn’t moved or relinquished his hold. Megumi puts down the cup and squirms, turning around in his hold to come face to face with Yuuji smiling at him. Megumi gives in, kisses the tip of his nose, and then flushes at his own action. “Alright, let me go, you terror.”
“One kiss,” Yuuji pouts. “Then tea.” Megumi rolls his eyes, refrains from pointing out that Yuuji already had his one kiss, and leans in the meet him. One kiss to Yuuji turns out to mean about a whole minute of slow making out, pressing him back against the kitchen counter and running his hands all over Megumi’s body. His mouth tastes like toothpaste and he keeps everything unhurried, not pushing any further, and in the end he has to be the one to break the kiss, grinning.
Megumi is flustered, but he just straightens out his sweatshirt and runs a hand through his hair to make sure the spikes aren’t looking too wild. Well, any wilder than normal. At least Yuuji’s wearing a shirt now, although Megumi sort of wishes he wasn’t. But seriously, Megumi doesn’t lock his door and sometimes Nobara just comes in uninvited, and if she had witnessed that it definitely would have looked like—like they’d spent the night together, in a sexy way. Like they had sex and then were doing some sensual morning-after ritual in the kitchen. They were not. They had literally slept together. And Yuuji had watched gameplays on twitch while Megumi was passed out and probably drooling everywhere. A sexy and romantic escapade.
It is sort of sexy and romantic when Yuuji makes him breakfast and feeds him a bite of the pancake with his fingers. And then Megumi forgets himself for a moment and licks the syrup off of them. What the fuck, why did he do that? He swears he can see Yuuji’s pupils dilate, and Megumi has to do a quick 180 to talk about how foggy and chilly it is outside this morning. He is not ready to suck dick, too scary, waayyy too scary, Yuuji’s dick, oh god, too scary. Does Yuuji want Megumi to suck his dick?
It still too early for this kind of panic, so Megumi shoves the second cup of green tea into Yuuji’s hands and chugs his own, trying to calm his overactive mind. They wash the dishes and then Yuuji leaves Megumi in peace to do his stupid mission reports while he goes to work out.
It isn’t until later that Yuuji enthusiastically tells Megumi that he talks in his sleep.
“It was super cute, Megumi! It was all nonsensical—I was trying to have a conversation with you but it was so funny,” he laughs and eats another bite of his dinnertime cereal.
“What did I say?” Megumi asks, terrified of the response. Really, it could have been any manner of things—sometimes he has nightmares, and even worse, sometimes he has dreams with Yuuji in them.
“Oh, you talked about doing physical therapy for your ankle…” he muses. Weird, but not really. Megumi had gotten tendonitis around his ankle a little while back and had to do stupid exercises for weeks. “Also something about gyoza.” Also not shocking—he had been stewing the day before about missing out on Yuuji’s special gyoza. “Oh! And you told me you love me!”
“What?” Megumi squeaks. He can feel his face getting hot, eyes wide with unspoken horror. He feels a wash of anxiety—its not that he doesn’t love Yuuji, he does, but they’ve never said that and he wasn’t exactly ready to, and even if he was he wouldn't have done it like that. Yuuji’s expression fights its way through Megumi’s panicked haze and Megumi narrows his eyes. Yuuji’s too-innocent face, puppy eyes, the twitching at the corner of his lips before it breaks into a big smile. Megumi shoves him harshly. “Ugh, stop making shit up!”
Yuuji bursts out laughing. “Okay, okay, the last part was a lie, I was just trying to bait you into admitting it—”
“Asshole. You’re so dumb,” Megumi grouses, face still flushed, now not sure what part of this conversation he should be more embarrassed about. “‘Admitting it’,” he scoffs. “Awfully confident about my feelings for you, huh…”
Yuuji just shovels more cereal into his mouth, looking gleeful.
“Your sleeping habits aren’t very darling either, I’ll have you know,” Megumi carries on, taking a bite of his own food and raising an eyebrow at Yuuji. “You starfish and take up all the space.”
“Ahh, yeah, sorry about that,” he smiles sheepishly. “But! You’ll never have to worry about me stealing the blankets, because I always get too hot when I’m sleeping, so I don’t use blankets.” At Megumi’s disbelieving frown, Yuuji enthusiastically tells him more about his sleeping habits. “I also don’t like sleeping on the wall side of beds ever, you know?” Yuuji says. “Easier to jump into action if I’m on the other side.” Megumi frowns deeper at that. Should he be concerned that Yuuji’s on such high alert all the time? “I watched this post-apocalyptic movie where this girl got chomped by a zombie for that exact reason. Gotta be ready!” Okay, nevermind.
Megumi thinks back to when he had first come into his room last night, finding Yuuji on the wall side of his bed. He was intentionally warming up the spot for Megumi earlier. Cute.
Megumi’s brain is working carefully through his words. Three words. He’s imagined saying them before. He thought he wasn’t ready. But usually Megumi never feels like he’s ready for anything until it happens, and then he realizes everything is still okay and the world hasn’t burst into flames.
“Hey, Yuuji,” he says. He’s staring at the bowl of miso soup in front of him, his pulse ratcheting up faster with every heartbeat. He can feel it throbbing against his throat and his temples when he looks up into Yuuji’s amber-colored eyes.
“Hm?”
Megumi swallows. “I love you.”
His heartrate skyrockets even higher in the second or two of quiet after he speaks. He almost can’t believe he said it. A blinding smile is overtaking Yuuji’s face, his eyes squeezing shut from it.
“What, really?! I didn't think you would say it!” he exclaims, shoving his chair back and lunging for Megumi, pulling him out of his chair and into an all-consuming embrace.
“I…wasn’t planning to, yet. I don’t know, it felt like—I don't know, I just wanted to say it then.” He feels a little awkward and overheated and blotchy, but Yuuji pulls away and looks at him like he’s something precious. He’s starting to wonder if Yuuji’s going to say it back, or if he’s jumped the gun and his exact sentiment isn’t going to be returned, but Yuuji swiftly puts him out of his misery.
“I love you too, Megumi,” he says, gratefully accepting when Megumi surges forward to kiss him deeply. It almost has him quivering, just hearing those words from Yuuji. His boyfriend. His boyfriend that he’s in love with. “I don’t know what it was about my recounting apocalyptic zombie movies that made you want to profess your love, but I can talk about them more often—”
Megumi shuts Yuuji up by kissing him more.