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“Itadori.” Megumi couldn’t help the way he practically breathed the name with so much relief when he saw Yuji’s face illuminated by the fire blooming between him and Yuta. His eyes raked over the pink-haired boy, taking in the concerning amount of blood on his shirt, the clear hole in the middle of it, and the scar under his lip.
He looked exhausted, and all Megumi wanted to do was wrap him in a hug and tell him it wasn’t his fault because he knew Yuji. He knew Yuji would be blaming himself for the carnage Sukuna caused when he took over his body.
The whole following conversation felt like a blur but he vaguely remembered raising his voice at Yuji in an attempt to get him to see sense and stop blaming himself, he remembered regretting it as soon as he saw the other boy flinch and a pained look take over his face, he remembered switching to a softer tone.
“Start by saving me, Itadori,” Megumi said, desperately trying to convey what his heart was yearning to shout out, “Kamo Noritoshi has made plans for those involved with jujutsu to face off in a culling game, and Tsumiki is ensnared in that. So I’m begging you, Itadori. I need your strength.”
He desperately wanted to talk to Yuji. Alone. But as jujutsu sorcerers, they didn’t have the luxury of getting what they wanted often. More urgent matters called for their attention. The next time they got to talk was after they had left Tengen, and left Yuki and Choso with him. Yuji had been keeping up a pretence of being strong, with a smile plastered on his face that Megumi could see right through it. Because he knew Yuji.
They had a mission soon, to go find Hakari while Maki went to the Zenin clan for the cursed tools. Thanks to Tengen, they could use the school as a temporary sanctuary before they were to head out on their mission, and so that was how Megumi found himself standing outside his bedroom door. A quick glance to the side and he saw Yuji in front of his own door, his forehead leaned against the wood and his eyes fluttering shut.
“Itadori,” Megumi called softly but he got no response. “Itadori? Ita – Yuji.”
That one got his attention.
“Hm?” Yuji lifted his head and turned to face Megumi.
“Are you… are you okay?” Megumi felt like that was a bad thing to ask considering everything that had happened. Yuji was probably not okay.
“’M fine.”
“Do you… want some company?"
“Yeah. Okay. Company sounds… nice.” Yuji murmured, lifting his hand to his door handle, and pushing it open. Megumi followed behind him, taking in the room he had never really seen before. It was quite different from his own, in regards to the decoration. Megumi’s room was a lot more bare, with minimal decoration, but Yuji had posters all over his walls and there were various manga volumes piled on his desk. His closet was open and messy, with clothes falling out of it onto the floor. His bed had a lot more pillow than Megumi’s, and it just looked more comfortable.
“Your room’s nice.” Megumi said, his voice low, trailing a finger over one of the manga’s on the table.
“Is it?” Yuji questioned, tossing himself back onto his bed as soon as he slipped his trainers off, leaving them laying haphazardly at the foot of the bed. He crossed his arms behind his head and kept his gaze on the ceiling. “Nicer than I deserve maybe.”
“Itadori –” Megumi sighed, stepping closer.
“Yuji,” The pink-haired boy corrected, briefly meeting Megumi’s gaze before turning away again. “Yuji, not Itadori.”
“Okay,” Megumi nodded, a softer expression on his face. “Yuji. What do you mean nicer than you deserve?”
“I feel like it’s pretty clear what I mean… Megumi.”
If this were any other time, Megumi would feel a rush at the sound of his given name falling from Yuji’s lips, but he was too concerned with the other boys wellbeing for that now. “It’s not clear to me. Explain.”
“You know what I mean. I know you know. You’re not stupid, Megumi.” Yuji muttered.
“If you’re talking about Shibuya –”
“Of course I’m talking about Shibuya!” Yuji’s voice got louder and his arms visibly tensed. “Of course it’s fucking Shibuya.”
“Yuji,” Megumi sighed, dropping to his knees beside Yuji’s bed, one of his hands reaching out but not touching Yuji. He let it drop onto the mattress, fingers curling around the fabric. “That... that wasn’t your fault.”
“Yes, it was.” Yuji scoffed.
“No, it wasn’t.”
“Megumi,” Yuji’s eyes snapped over to meet Megumi’s and the dark haired boy was taken aback by how much brighter they seemed, shining with unshed tears and gleaming with so much anguish. “It was. It’s on me. Sukuna is my responsibility and – and I let all those people die.”
“You were force-fed ten fingers. Not even you can hold back Sukuna when that much of him is ingested,” Now Megumi had the courage to reach out, just barely, and clutch at Yuji’s shirt tightly. “You were forced.”
“So many people died. By my hands. These hands,” Yuji untucked his arms from behind his head and lifted his hands above his face, examining them with a stricken look. Megumi did the same, trailing his gaze over the faded scars and calluses spread over Yuji’s hands, at the healing cuts adorning his fingers. Time and time again, he had wished to lace his fingers with Yuji’s, time and time again he had admired Yuji’s hands, how strong they were, and now Yuji looked at them as if he couldn’t bear the fact that they were a part of his body.
Megumi let go of Yuji’s shirt and reached out to take one of his hands instead, enveloping it with both of his own and pressing a gentle kiss to Yuji’s rough knuckles before holding it to his collarbone. “Not your hands, Sukuna’s.”
When he looked back to Yuji, he saw a shocked expression replacing the previously anguished and stricken one and he was hit with the sudden realisation that he had just fucking kissed Yuji’s hand like an absolute weirdo what the fuck.
A faint flush appeared on his cheeks and he went to let go of Yuji’s hand but the grip tightened and his eyes grew wider in surprise.
“Don’t… don’t let go,” Yuji’s voice was weaker than Megumi had ever heard it. “Please.”
“I won’t,” Megumi promised. “Not unless you want me to.”
“And what do you want?” Yuji asked, turning his body so he was fully facing Megumi now, one arm outstretched and held between Megumi’s, and the other resting on the pillow.
What did Megumi want?
He wanted a lot of things, in truth. He wanted to see Tsumiki, and he wanted Gojo to be freed from the Prison realm. He wanted Nobara to be healed, and Inumaki as well, and Todo. He wanted Yuta and Maki to be safe. He wanted… he wanted…
He wanted Yuji.
He had wanted him for a while. Maybe since they first met, when he’d seen his resolve in saving his friends, seen how quickly he decided to eat the fingers when he learned it might have the slightest chance in giving him power to protect the people he cared about.
He wanted Yuji so much that it hurt.
“Megumi?” Yuji whispered, reaching out with his free hand to brush his knuckles against Megumi’s flushed cheeks, bringing him back to awareness.
“You. I – I want you,” Megumi breathed out, finally letting the words spill from his lips after they’d been building up for so long, it felt akin to water finally bursting from a dam that had been holding it back. “I want a lot of things, and most of them I don’t think are conceivable. Even this, I – I don’t think I’m lucky enough to get what I want, but I can’t lie… not to you.”
Yuji’s hand dropped from Megumi’s face, and he tugged his other hand from Megumi’s grip. The dark haired boy felt cold all of a sudden. Was this a rejection? Did he push it too far?
But then Yuji propped himself up on his elbow, reaching out with a hand and cupping Megumi’s face. He brushed gentle fingers along Megumi’s cheeks and drew him closer ever-so-gently and then – then their lips met.
Yuji’s lips had a lingering taste of the green tea they had drank not too long ago. He was very aware of the large hand cupping his face, aware of the eyelashes brushing his cheeks, of how his own hand had fisted the material of Yuji’s shirt and pulled him even closer because he needed more touch.
Yuji pulled away from the kiss but not from Megumi. He rested his forehead against the other boys, eyes closed and gentle puffs of breath escaping his lips. Megumi’s eyes were still open and he felt warm all over seeing the flush of pink on Yuji’s cheeks, matching his hair. “If you don’t think you’re lucky enough to get what you want, then I’m definitely dreaming because there’s zero chance I’m lucky enough to be kissing you right now.”
“You’re not dreaming.” Megumi said.
“Okay.”
“You just believe me when I say that?”
“I trust you,” Yuji drew his head away slightly, opening his eyes as a tentative smile pulled on his lips. “You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?”
“Didn’t I just say I couldn’t?” Megumi asked, keeping his voice low.
“So you did,” Yuji bowed his head, dropping it onto Megumi’s shoulder. “I don’t deserve you.”
“Shut up. I want this too, are you going to deny me it?”
“Never,” Yuji shook his head, words muffled slightly by Megumi’s shirt. “I could never deny you something you wanted, not when I want it just as bad.”
Megumi lifted his hand and brought it to the back of Yuji’s neck, slipping his fingers through the thick locks of hair and pressing a kiss to the side of Yuji’s head. “So, we’re in agreement then?”
“Agreement of what?”
“This.”
“Yeah.”
“Good.”
“Your knees must be aching by now,” Yuji pointed out, still leaned on Megumi, the arm not propping him up was wrapped around the dark haired boy’s waist, his thumb brushing patterns absent-mindedly. “Will you… will you stay with me?”
“Of course I will,” Megumi nodded, pressing another kiss to his head. “You gotta let go though, so I can take my shoes off.”
“’Kay,” Yuji reluctantly pulled back and laid back in bed, watching Megumi lift himself to sit on the bed and take his shoes off before he fell back onto the pillows and sighed, his eyes slipping shut. Megumi cracked an eye open and lifted his arm for Yuji to tuck himself into his side and then dropped it, running his fingers through pink hair. “Sleep.”
“I will,” Megumi hummed. “If you do.”
“Yeah, I’m tired.”