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During the nights that came after the one where Itadori fell lifeless on the ground in front of him, Fushiguro felt the press of time moving on. It just passed by without his consent, furthermore burying Yuuji’s beating heart and consolidating him as a memory instead of a living being. On those lonely sleepless nights, he felt like the walls were closing in on him fast, and he was frozen.
He was stuck in place, bereft and flooded with regrets as the image of Itadori disembodied heart haunted him and his last words echoed in his mind. Live a long life.
Megumi isn't claustrophobic, but he thinks that now he gets it. Gets how it makes your chest squeeze and it feels like you've got a weight attached that you can't quite carry, and everything is itchy and crooked and wretched and wrong, and your bones don't fit properly in your body. And he had the want to pull. Pull at his skin until it's all the way off and he can shed it like a coat. Expose everything to the frigid air and just let all of his interior turn into ice.
Except, now Yuuji is back. Alive. Right in front of him. And he has the power of the spring sun, his rays beaming as they melt the frost away.
When Megumi first saw him, he felt like he was being electrocuted. He wouldn’t be able to tell exactly what he felt the moment he looked at Itadori, after he spent weeks crying over his death – which he witnessed first hand.
Honestly, it was the purest form of paralysis. But for an instant, there was an unexpected surge of something similar to anger and then a plethora of emotions that he was stunned and too tired to process entirely. He could tell that Itadori was feeling let down by not receiving the cheerful welcome back he and Gojo were expecting. But he didn’t know how to react after the bereavement he went through.
Nonetheless, they managed to get back on track. Their skin and bones were trained to get along and, as they settled into this reality, there was only the need to protect it.
After they went through the whole disastrous Sister Schools Goodwill Event and ended up in a doomed baseball match, Itadori suggested that they’d go watch the sunset and have a picnic. Megumi acquiesced and they proceeded to invite Kugisaki and the second years, but everyone slipped away somehow.
It went down like this: Nobara giving them an all-knowing glance, snickering and then saying she and Maki had other plans already. Inumaki showing his phone and going away to video call Yuuta. And Panda simply vanishing without saying a word.
The only ones remaining were Megumi and Yuuji — and a promise of a picnic for two. But the curious thing was: Itadori didn’t seem to be even a little bit disappointed by this outcome. Megumi didn’t know what to make out of it, having his own selfish reason to be glad about it.
Thus they sit here, with a blanket on the lawn, sharing the food Itadori made for them and watching the sun set. He snaps shots of Yuuji with his camera as the golden light glistens in his pink hair and intensifies the ember in his brown eyes.
“Why are you taking so many pictures of me?” He asks gently, his face bearing a luminous tint.
Megumi hesitates as he thinks of how to answer this question. How could he explain to Itadori that he missed him so much and has mourned him for all this time, afraid of everything he would forget about him, as it's natural for memories to fade and he thought Yuuji was reduced to being only that: a memory.
But he is in front of him now, breathing and living and Megumi needs physical proof, needs to register this moment, him being here, by his side. To make sure it’s real and make it last. Because even though it’s the definition of his own name, he's sure Yuuji is the true blessing.
If he had the words to say all this he would, but he didn’t.
“You look like Princess Bubblegum, with this golden aura and your pink hair.” Is what he decides to go for as he reaches for his water bottle and takes a sip.
Yuuji only snickers, tilts his head as he asks in a teasing tone: ”Would you be Marceline in this scenario, then?”
Megumi chokes on his water, flabbergasted with the jibe and the implication of it. Yuuji keeps giggling. He gulps. Absorbs the flirtation.
They had similar exchanges in the past, little flirts disguised as mockery, when they simply tried to behave like normal teenagers would. Stolen glances and a desire to get closer. But now it seems that those moments belong in another lifetime, he concludes that for Itadori this is quite true. There was an end, and now it’s a start of all things there are left to do.
Still, everything feels more final now.
Before, they never had the courage to get too far, there was a barrier that they didn’t dare to cross. Right now, Megumi watches all of their former restraint dissolve like sugar cubes in the summer rain. And a different kind of heaviness clouds the air.
There’s still the familiar easiness to be around Itadori, but there’s also a new wave of tension between them. So much tension. Every move and every word creates static.
“I guess.” He finally gives in with a deadpan expression.
A light shimmers through Itadori’s irises at that. “Yeah. The emo vampire aesthetic suits you just fine.’’ He gauges Megumi's open mouth reaction and lets out a boisterous laugh.
Oh. His laugh.
Hearing the sound of it as the wind carries the remains of his chuckles makes the black haired boy feel prickly, like something is touching the hairs on his arms, his legs, the nape of his neck, but not the skin itself. Yet he aches to feel the real touch in his skin.
So he takes one last picture of him, capturing the moment. Then puts the camera down, takes a deep breath and raises his arms again until it reaches Yuuji’s face. He softly grabs it, stroking a cheek with the pad of his thumb. He savors the moment and makes this an offer to feed the famished creature inside of him that has been longing for contact. But it's ravenous. Insatiable when it comes to Itadori Yuuji.
It’s a heady feeling. To touch Yuuji's flushed soft skin and feel the pulsing blood beneath the surface. He imagines it circling around the arteries and veins of his body, red and unafraid of living. Plumping life and warmth. Megumi shudders with the contrast as he remembers how cold it felt to touch the same skin when he thought the boy was gone forever.
Itadori cuts this line of thought. He acts eager to reciprocate the gesture, moves to touch and fits a hand around his jaw, grazing the back of his neck with his fingertips.
And oh. Yuuji has an arsonist touch that sets everything inside him ablaze. At this moment, Fushiguro has the urge to carve out holes in his own skin, strip out the whole of his flesh, just so this heated touch could reach his bones and melt the remaining frozen bits.
Megumi looks at him, and wishes he could keep doing just that, touching him and staring at his astonishingly beautiful grinning face. Just that for the rest of their lives. Yuuji stares right back at him, making him bask as he relishes the contact and presses his face closer to Megumi’s hand. He still has a small smile on his face but his eyes are half-lidded as they move their gaze to Fushiguro’s mouth. Megumi thinks the world could end.
“Sometimes you make me feel like i’m living at the edge of the world.’’ Fushiguro whispers as he moves closer and closer and closer, pressing their foreheads together, so that if Itadori moves even an inch, he could change everything.
“It's just the way I smile.” Was Yuuji's faint response, as he closed the space between them, still smiling, up until the moment their mouths collided.
To kiss Yuuji feels dizzying. And electric. And it’s a relief.
He feels the pleasant tug in his scalp as the boy he is kissing buries one hand in his hair and moves the other to his waist and squeezes gently. On his end, Megumi lightly quivers, sighs and briefly wonders if he has been playing dead for all this time and is now finally exploding into life, and all it took was a touch of Yuuji’s lips against his lips and his hands on him.
To kiss Yuuji is like waking up, every part of Megumi coming alive and aware and wanting.
They deepen the kiss. Tilting their heads and opening their mouths until their tongues brush. The motion sends shivers down his spine, goosebumps spread all over his body, his toes curl and his heart races in his chest. He feels Yuuji’s hand slightly tremble before steadying it as he holds Megumi more tightly, he intensifies the grasp on his waist and uses it to bring his body closer. As a result, their chests are now pushed against each other’s, their rib cages like a jigsaw and he can sense both of their heartbeats echoing. It's maddening. It’s everything.
They kiss, and kiss, and kiss.
Their mouths move in tandem, opening and closing under each other, exploring, sucking and biting. They continue to kiss as the sunlight fades, until Itadori breaks it in order to breathe, he gasps for air but keeps close while Megumi instinctively chases the departing mouth. He himself doesn’t want to breathe, would rather suffocate than to not have those lips pressed against him. From now on, he only ever wants to get lost in Yuuji's lungs.
The sorcerer’s head is still reeling, he is barely able to think, but somehow his mind manages to summon Oscar Wilde. The curves of your lips rewrite history. And Fushiguro’s world is forever changed because Itadori is made of ivory and gold.
Their foreheads are touching and they keep sharing oxygen while panting with emotion. Yuuji pecks at the edge of his mouth and gently pushes Megumi down, to lie on the blanket that’s spread on the lawn beneath them. He lies on his back and fastens his arm around Yuuji's torso, the other boy hovers above him and brings his lips down to the corner of his mouth again and lets it wander to his chin, and his throat after that, and then trails to the junction between neck and shoulder. He is sucking the skin there and Megumi has melted completely under him, sounds of delight escaping his mouth.
His eyes have been shut this entire time, but are currently wide open as the currents of pleasure stream his body. He registers that the sun has set completely by now, it’s dark and starting to look like rain. He doesn’t care. Put out the torches, hide the moon, hide the stars. Please, let them hide themselves in this.
His hand finds it’s way beneath Yuuji's hoodie, where there’s warmth and so much skin. He hears Yuuji’s breath falter as he moves the hand up, leaving a trail of affection until he reaches the place above the heart. He settles the palm of his hand there, enjoying the constant thump, thump, thump. It's beating so fast and it's so alive. Alive. Alive. Alive. His mind rattles.
Megumi feels the urge to learn every line of his body, he needs to keep touching him. And with every touch, he tries to convey how much he missed him without needing to say it out loud.
His other hand wraps around Yuuji's wrist – the one that lays next to his head, supporting the weight of his body – and moves to kiss there. He tilts his head a bit more to the side, exposing his neck furthermore for Yuuji to maim, while bringing his lips to linger above his pulse, feeling the flow that also bounces there.
Itadori leaves one last kiss on his neck before whispering breathlessly in his ear, ‘‘I’ve missed you so much, Megumi. I thought about you everyday when I was away. I dreamt of kissing you… holding you like this.”
There’s a lump growing in his throat and he barely manages to hold down the emotions. No one has ever told him that before. Megumi has always been the one who misses, as he has always been the one who gets left behind. The concept of being missed by someone is foreign to him.
He clutches Yuuji closer, raises his knees and tries to accommodate the body above him between his thighs. He feels dizzy, mind twisting and turning through the words he has just heard. There is a wildness in him, of hope and terror. He trembles and brings their lips together once more, needing Itadori’s kiss to ground him and, at the same time, set him free.
He feels the warmth of Yuuji’s sweet throat pouring into his own. He can’t do anything but drink him in. The soft movements of his lips were like a miracle.This must be something close to religion, he thought, his desperate soul finding faith. He would pray and beg to any god willing to listen: Please, let me have this, don’t ever take him away from me.
Fushiguro has known only loneliness for so long. The only thing that matters now is that he exists with someone. Since he has tasted it, the mere thought of losing this, losing Itadori again, makes him fearsome. He was unfazed before meeting Sukuna’s vessel, but now he knows all the fear and the fire of the end of the world. His chest aches as the fright settles in his guts.
Yuuji must have felt something was off, which led him to sever the kiss and raise his head enough to search for something in Megumi’s face.
“Are you okay? You got so tense all of a sudden.”
He opens his eyes to find Yuuji’s worrying ones staring at him. A fold between his eyebrows that highlights his concern and the sides of his swollen lips pulling down, as if he’s so disturbed with the mere possibility that Megumi might be upset with something.
He hates to see preoccupation written on this lovely face, so he tries to think of something to say to appease him. However, the lump in his throat has gotten bigger and bigger, as enormous as the walls of Troy, making it impossible for words to come out. So he only shakes his head and tries to reunite his lips to Yuuji’s once more, but finds resistance when the other keeps his head raised.
“Fushiguro, please, tell me what’s wrong.”
There are tears threatening to fill his eyes, he fights to keep them at bay but his vision gets blurry still. He swallows and struggles. The words come out broken as he voices a single request: “Just, please, don’t ever leave me again.”
Itadori’s expression softens and crumbles all at once, as he understands everything, even what has been kept unsaid.
“I won’t. Never again. I swear.” It’s a promise he can’t be sure to keep. But he promises it all the same, tries to make it count. The Shikigami summoner finds enough comfort in his words, abjures his skeptical brain and lets a treacherous hope flood his foolish heart, choosing to believe him. It’s how they make the most of life in this chaotic world.
Yuuji moves his body to lay beside Megumi. Head next to his, on the edge of the blanket, the tips of his pink hair mixing in with the green grass. He shifts both of their bodies to lay on their sides facing each other, entangling their legs in the process. He takes his hand and intertwines their fingers, holds tightly and brings it to his lips. He kisses his knuckles, one by one, then the back of his hand.
The next target of Itadori’s lips are his eyelids. A kiss gentle as a breeze, yet powerful enough to dilute the concentrated sadness that has been condensed in his eyes.
He waits for Fushiguro to open them again, before continuing:
“I’m sorry for making you go through that. I never wanted to keep it a secret from you, you know that, right? If it was up to me I would've come to you as soon as I woke up. But Gojo sensei said that-”
“I know.” Megumi cuts in “You don’t need to apologize, I know you didn’t have a say in it. There’s nothing to be forgiven.” He says and sees relief in the face in front of him.
They gaze at each other and there’s comprehension in the look they share. There’s faith in one another. There’s also a need to seize this moment, so Yuuji curls his muscled arm around his waist and glues them once again in a close embrace.
Megumi scratches his head, finger alternating between massaging his scalp and combing through his hair, making Itadori’s eyelids flutter in bliss. He smiles at the sight, thinking how much he resembles a puppy like this.
In turn, Yuuji’s own fingers travel lightly upon his skin. He strokes his cheek, his neck, his arm, then goes to rub his back with tenderness. It’s inebriating. His heart is thrilled by the gentle wandering of hands.
They spend time like this, holding and fondling over each other while the earth slowly turns around itself. Being in Yuuji’s arms has defrosted him, a bonfire has been lit in his chest, the snowy mountain looks more like a volcano going through an eruption now. There’s magma covering his skin and he wonders if this is how the lovers of Pompeii felt, getting bonded to eternity.
Other than his hands, Itadori also caresses Megumi’s face with his lips. He slowly creates a route leaving chaste kisses behind, as if following a pilgrimage path, until he reaches his mouth again. He kisses it with care and devotion, like it’s a place of worship.
“I like you so much, Megumi.’’ Yuuji murmurs against his lips. To hear him say this was like taking a drug. He wants to overdose.
“Say it again?”
Yuuji raises a brow but entertains his request, adding little kisses as a bonus, having a generous soul.
“I like you.” A kiss. “So.” Another kiss. “So.” One more. “So much, Fushiguro Megumi.” And a last one that lingers a bit further, but not nearly enough.
“I like you too, Itadori Yuuji. An awful lot.” He says it back, because it is the truth, but not all of it. There’s so much more he wants to say but doesn’t have the words yet.
Still, that small and already obvious statement is all it takes to make Yuuji smile. It’s bright like a supernova, making it impossible for them to see anything else but the other. It’s just the way he smiles.
It was the dawning of the world.