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Chapter Text

There are a lot of things Yuuji's expecting when Nobara almost kicks in the door to his room. Megumi trudges behind her, and going by his even less than usual enthusiastic expression, Yuuji doubts he came along willingly. As much as he loves Nobara, he hopes that she really isn’t about to unleash one hell of a shopping trip upon them both.

He has half the mind to just pretend he didn't notice them coming in because he's getting to the really good part in the manga, but Nobara has a burning wildfire for eyes. Chest puffed out like a bird,  whatever she's going to announce in the next second has to be at least the equivalent of getting a boyfriend. 

"Soldier," Nobara barks, "report for duty!”

Yuuji shoots up perfectly straight from his bed and salutes.

“Sir Yes Sir!”

Grinning at his enthusiasm, Nobara continues loud and clear, “Itadori Yuuji! I need you to run a kissing booth for me!"

The word kissing booth echoes unresponsively in his head a few more times. Yuuji's salute slowly falls from his face.

"Wha—huh???"

“Do I have to report you for insubordination?” 

"Woah, hold on," Yuuji says, putting his manga down for good. "A kissing booth? Did I hear that right? Why is someone running a kissing booth? For what?"

Unimpressed, Nobara stares at him with crossed arms. "Don't tell me you've already forgotten what principal Yaga announced two days ago."

Yuuji looks to Megumi for help, who's idly scrolling on his phone, that bastard. He gulps, eyes nervously darting across his growing collection of Jennifer Lawrence posters. If Nobara keeps up the intensity of her look, he's not the only thing about to be burned into a crisp. 

With no real means of escape left, Yuuji rakes his brain for the corresponding memory. There's something at the back of his mind—he recalls Yaga coming into one of Gojou-sensei’s lessons when they were all holed up in the class room the other day. Gojou's been teaching theory of cursed energy at that time, and not only did that fry most of his brain cells, he's also still recovering from their last mission.

Gojou-sensei especially insisted on him getting some more resting time, hence the reason why he’s in bed and not out training with the others.  

It's not his fault he didn't really pay attention to anything Yaga said. Hell, he didn't even catch the rerun of Human Earthworm 2 which aired that day, too tired to not just immediately zonk out after they were released from class. 

Nobara’s expression shifts from judging disappointment to defeat the longer the silence drags on. Sighing, she sits down on his bed and crosses one leg over the other, the picture of self-made confidence.

“We're gonna hold a festival at Jujutsu High next weekend. It's mainly for the public, since we’re still an official school on paper. Keeping up appearances and all that jazz, you know? And potentially securing more investors while we’re at it.”

“Investors?”

“Running a school is expensive,” Nobara sniffs, “and half of our budget goes into feeding Gojou’s sugar addiction.”

"Can I leave?" Megumi asks from behind her. 

"No, you stay right there! You're the emotional support, even if you aren’t a good one. Anyway," Nobara says, flipping her hair back, "since all of the students are supposed to contribute in some sort of way, I had the absolutely brilliant idea of running a kissing booth."

Yuuji stares at her for a few seconds, contextualising the image of a kissing booth with the new information. "Okay, I get it. I think. Maybe. But why a kissing booth? Couldn't we do something else? Food, weapons? There are so many cooler options.”

“Maki-senpai is already doing a weapon exhibition of sorts. And food is boring—Panda-senpai is doing food, Inumaki-senpai is doing food, everyone is doing food! A kissing booth, on the other hand, is fun and exciting!”

Yuuji pouts, “But I like food…” 

Nobara lightly hits the back of his head. “Idiot. Think of all the money we'll get!”

“Gojou wants us to donate all of our earnings to charity.”

Nobara turns around to point an accusing finger into Megumi’s direction. “You're not helping!” She snaps. “Stop reminding me about that mutated cotton swab! What did I say about being the emotional support?”

“You said I wasn’t a good one,” Megumi deadpans.

“Yes, but I didn’t tell you to act that part!”

Yuuji cocks his head, watching them bicker back and forth. He's received some chaste kisses on his cheek from a few girls in middle school, but that's about it. Nothing he'd consider noteworthy experiences. He can barely remember the details of them, but he does understand that kissing is probably a fun activity if everyone speaks so highly of it and does it all the time. 

So he's kinda getting behind the idea, even if he still likes the idea of running a food stall. Images of meat and noodles pop up in his head and he wipes an invisible trail of drool from his mouth. 

Maybe he really is better off not doing anything food related, else he might just eat everything up before the guests arrive. 

Yuuji slowly nods. “Okay. But why does it have to be me? Aren’t you guys better suited for this kind of stuff?” 

Nobara rolls her eyes. "I'd rather die than have unworthy people paying just a couple of bucks to get their bacteria all over me. And Mr. Antisocial here," she jabs her thumb into Megumi’s direction, "I wouldn't put it past him to accidentally summon Mahoraga when a girl looks at him a second too long and he starts getting cold feet."

"That was one time," Megumi grumbles. “And we were in combat, not—”

"It’s the principle that counts," Nobara interrupts gleefully, smirking when Megumi’s reddening ears betray his glare. "And it was, in fact, multiple times." She turns back to Yuuji, pushing her finger into his chest. "Point is, loath that I am to admit, you're the best candidate for cash. I mean, for this mission."

Yuuji’s eyebrows crease as he pictures himself managing a kissing booth. Does he really just sit at a small stall with corresponding flashy, pink signs? Is there some sort of menu like in restaurants that displays the different kinds of kisses offered? It’s hard to imagine people would actually come and pay for a kiss with him. 

It’s not like he’s bad-looking or anything, but compared to dark, handsome-and-pretty Megumi and Nobara’s fierce beauty, he’s not sure where his place is. Yuuji is just… normal. A perfectly ordinary guy, minus the whole sorcery and housing the most evil curse to exist in the entire human history thing. And he’s got pink hair. Maybe that’s a selling point? 

He’s not really sure if he likes the idea of being paid to kiss someone either, but if it was for charity… Somewhere between the memory of his grandfather and the nice nurses who knew he meant well beneath his gruff exterior, he's incrementally warming up to to the idea. 

"If you say so?” Yuuji scratches his head, still processing everything. “I’m not exactly, uh, popular though.”

Nobara leans away from him with a loud hiss. “Are you serious?”

"Yeah! I mean I was pretty well known before coming here, but that was mostly during school hours. And those people weren't really my friends? I was a bit of a delinquent, you know. And even Sasaki and Iguchi were more like—"

"That's not what I'm talking about!"

Yuuji cocks his head, urging her to explain. 

“He doesn't get it,” Nobara mumbles to herself, clutching the front of her chest for support. “He really doesn't get it.”

“Sorry, I don't get what?” Yuuji asks, utterly helpless as Nobara gets up from the bed, stalking towards Megumi with frustration settling around her like a whooshing cloak. 

“Urgh, forget it! You'll find out at the festival, kay?” She yells. With that, she's already storming off, an unwilling Megumi in tow. 

Yuuji blinks at the empty door a couple of times before it clicks. He scrambles to get out of bed, almost knocking his head into the doorframe in the attempt to chase after her.

“Nobara, wait! I said I could try , I never actually agreed to anything—”

Chapter Text

“So, what do you think?”

Nobara does an elaborate spin that sends half of her dress flying. Yuuji rubs his chin contemplatively, taking in the view before him. 

“It’s… wow.”

“Just wow?” Nobara scoffs. “It looks amazing, thank you very much.”

“Oh, yeah—I’m just surprised how much decoration you managed within the span of two days.”

“Hmph! Never underestimate a working girl.”

He slowly approaches what Nobara has been so lovingly referring to as their operation site in the groupchat. Firstly, the entire booth is painted pink. Secondly, pink neon lights and signs displaying cheesy romantic quotes periodically flash back at him. There's another row of smaller connected lights draped around the edges of the booth, and if the large, pink mouth at the top wasn’t enough to grab every pedestrian's attention, a couple of red arrows to where he will be sitting help complete the experience of a kissing booth. 

Pointedly ignoring the biggest arrow next to the menu pointing straight at the money jar, he turns back around, feeling both a little hopeless and vaguely impressed. He’s kinda glad Megumi isn’t here right now, but he’s probably already seen it anyway. Half of his phone's gallery practically belongs to Nobara with how many photos she loves sending in. 

“It wasn’t pink yesterday. Did the colour dry properly?”

Nobara is too busy ogling her own creation to whack him for skeptically rubbing his fingers against the wood. 

“Of course it is. You remember what to do, yes?”

He nods. “I just sit there and, uh, look pretty. And everything else will come naturally? Your own words.”

“Good boy,” she says, and rewards him with a light pinch of his butt. 

Yuuji takes it as a cue to take his position for the rest of the day. He wiggles around in the stool, suddenly glad he’s asked for a cushion. It’s going to be a long day—and it’s still another half hour until the festival is officially opened. He’s spent most of the morning helping everyone set up their booths, but some of his senpais are still running around, busy organising the last couple of things to ensure everything runs smoothly. 

It’s weird to see everyone dressed in casual clothing for once—he doesn’t think he’s ever seen Toge out of his high-collar uniform outside of training, but the same could be said for his other senpais. Jujutsu High is a school with school uniforms, yes, but it’s also not an actual school, and extracurricular activities are mostly an excuse to slay curses outside of their home grounds. 

Nobara herself is flaunting a cute summer dress with sunflower patterns she spent half an hour picking out. Yuuji knows this because he was dragged to her room right after waking up—and after she was done with her hair and make-up, it was Yuuji’s turn to try on every outfit imaginable.

Eventually she settled for a simple, orange dress-shirt tucked into a pair of dark, loose jeans. Slicked his hair back and nodded to herself. 

“The boyfriend look,” she had declared, hands on her hips and clearly proud of herself before moving in to undo the first two buttons of his shirt. “With a little bit of spice, because god knows you got enough of that goody-two shoes aura on you.”

He fiddled with the now open collar.

“The whole king of curses story inside of me not good enough?”

“Please don’t remind me of that rotting pile of bones.”

Next to him, current Nobara is digging through her purse. She pulls out a water bottle, a few wipes, and lip balm, dropping everything on the desk before her. 

“Do yourself and your customers a favour and clean yourself up every once in a while, yes?”

Yuuji’s nose scrunches up. “We went over the hygienic section twice. I know. You make it sound like I’m a toddler.”

“If that was true, I'd be doing the ass-wiping, not you.”

“Semantics.”

She purses her lips, whistling low. “Fancy word. Picked that up from Megumi, yes? Do you even know what that means?”

He bumps his shoulder into her thigh in lieu of answering. She must be in a good mood today because she mercifully drops the topic after regaining her balance. 

Then again, if he managed to rope either Megumi or Nobara into running a kissing booth for him, he supposes he'd be pretty delighted, too. 

“15 minutes left,” she chirps, looking up from the fancy little watch around her finger. “Feel ready?”

Yuuji offers a thumbs up. He’s as ready as someone without kissing experience can be, at the very least. 

It’s not like he has stage fright, but the prospect of kissing a bunch of strangers in the next few hours is still rather weird to him, no matter how many pep-talks Nobara has given him about it. 

Nobara's got enough confidence for the both of them, though, and he trusts her with his life and some more. Just not with his money—he and Megumi learned that the hard way. She nods, satisfied with his answer, and walks in front of the booth, inspecting the entire composition with him in it one last time. 

“How do I look?” Yuuji leans back, wiggling his eyebrows for effect.

“Kissable enough,” she says, smirking haughtily to herself. “I did a pretty good job. Don’t mess up now, soldier—my future earnings are on the line.”

“Don’t let Megumi hear that," he chirps. A more earnest smile plays on his lips. “Thanks for your help, Nobara.”

“I’m the one sending you into battle, so this,” she flicks her hair back, “is expected of me. The bare minimum, really.”

She snaps her fingers. “Right, I almost forgot—one last thing.”

“Hm?”

“Lean forward a little.”

Yuuji cocks his head at her but does as he’s told. “Like this?”

There was a window of about three seconds between his question and Nobara bending down—not nearly enough time to prepare him for the feeling of her lips on his.

Soft, is the first thought running through his hand, followed by cherries. 

Her chapstick, most likely, and the realisation that he knows this because they're kissing at this very moment is sending the rest of his brain that’s still lagging behind into overdrive. All theoretical lessons she drilled into him about what to do and how to behave are forcefully evicted from his system with a single smooch.

She's neither being overly soft nor aggressive, just the right amount of pressure, but she's doing that thing where she's moving her lips against him a little and she’s also humming low in her throat like she's approving as she tilts back Yuuji's head with surprising gentleness and Yuuji is dying on the inside, really, making a weird, strangled noise in the back of his throat, hand twitching in his lap, suddenly hyper aware of everything and— 

It couldn’t have lasted for longer than a couple of seconds, but Yuuji's sure he saw glimpses of eternity flashing before his eyes. He almost stumbles out of his seat when Nobara pulls back, giving his bottom lip a quick bite on her way back. 

He stares; at her dark lips and darker eyes, and furiously wipes the back of his mouth. 

“Don’t do that right after you kiss someone, idiot,” she says, rolling her eyes. 

“You—what the hell—you just kissed me!”

“And what if I did?”

Nobara gives him a look that says, you're going to be doing exactly that for the next couple of hours, duh. 

His jaw hangs wide open as she laughs at him, not a single smidge of regret audible. Her face has flushed a little though, barely visible under her layer of make-up, and she's twirling a strand of hair around her finger like she didn't just—kiss him.  

 “I think I'm allowed to inspect the goods.”

“The goods? You bit me!”

“Don't worry, I didn't even bite hard enough for it to bleed. Remember, no permanent marks. Wouldn’t want to set a bad example by breaking my own rules now, would I? Or maybe I should just charge extra for that? Could be seen as a proof of… quality.” She muses to herself, already turning away from him. 

She raises her hand, waving without looking back. 

“Don’t read too much into it. I’ll go find Megumi now, so don't die without me there to babysit, yeah?”

There’s a lot Yuuji wants to yell after her right now, but all he’s getting out is a strangled variant of what could have been her name. 

He puts his face in his hand, trying to fight down his raging blush.

Hopefully no one saw that.

Chapter Text

Half an hour into the festival, Yuuji's comfortably lounging on his little stool. 

He's people watching when he's not talking to or kissing anyone, taking note of the different kinds of shapes and colours of people attending their festival. Only a handful have been brave enough to sit down in front of him, but considering it's only the start of the festival and Yuuji… didn't really expect anyone, really, he's surprised that the jar already has a couple of bills. 

The entire ordeal is less daunting than he initially thought. He's been significantly less nervous after Nobara took his first kiss—probably exactly what she wanted to achieve. Knowing her, she'll be expecting him to be her packhorse for the next couple of shopping trips as payment even though Yuuji’s always stuck with carrying all of her stuff. 

His stomach still flips a little with excitement whenever someone approaches, though. And he doesn't really know what to do with his hands aside from putting them on the table or digging them into his thighs. Other than that, he's slowly but surely getting behind the idea. 

Move his lips a little, avoid closing his eyes (for too long) for a more intimate connection no matter how embarrassing. Watch his tongue and breathing so he doesn't accidentally run out of oxygen if the kiss is more than a short peck and he gets a little too lost in it.  

Yuuji perks up when he spots a tamed mane of black—Getou-sensei, always whole head taller than the crowds. Yuuji's just a little jealous. 

Finally recognising someone he knows, he waves enthusiastically until Getou takes notice and excuses himself from the conversation he was engaged in. While Getou's approaching, eyes flickering briefly to the obnoxiously loud stall sign above Yuuji, Yuuji's smile quickly drops as he remembers the situation he’s currently in. 

“Itadori-kun,” Getou acknowledges with an upward quirk of his mouth that could say just about anything. “I have to admit that I didn't think you'd run an establishment like this.”

Yuuji's hand moves to scratch the back of his head before remembering he’ll mess up the few smudges of hair gel put in it.

He grimaces, “Nobara can be very convincing.”

“Couldn’t really say no, could you?”

“Yeah, not really.”

“A wise decision; I reckon she would have made your life miserable.”

Getou’s eyes crinkle when Yuuji laughs, neither denying nor confirming to avoid summoning Nobara out of nowhere. 

There are a couple of people watching them some distance away from Getou, and he wonders if they don't want to come closer because even on a sunny day, Getou-sensei cuts an intimidating figure—tall, dark, and encompassing. 

Yuuji can't help but stare as he takes in Getou's outfit. A black turtleneck thin enough for warm weather tastefully tucked into dark hakama pants. It's strange seeing him out of his uniform and gloves, but definitely not unwelcome.

Yuuji's for sure appreciating it—he thinks he understands where Nobara is coming from whenever she gushes about Getou-sensei’s sense of fashion. 

“Say, Itadori-kun,” Getou says, successfully pulling him from his thoughts. He didn't notice his sensei sitting down, their knees almost brushing together with how long Getou's legs are. 

Yuuji blinks eagerly at him, Getou-sensei tips the jar with a finger. “Would you mind me taking you up on your services?”

“Yeah, sure. I mean—what?” Yuuji’s jaw drops open. 

After the Nobara incident he's pictured other students maybe coming to him, but a teacher? And Getou nonetheless? They've always had a more casual friendship than anything since Yuuji was under Gojou’s tutelage most of the time, but they’ve chatted on more than one occasion. 

He never quite has a full grasp on what Getou's thinking—Yuuji's not really good at reading people intently like that in general, relying more on words and body language and their actions. Gojou-sensei is very expressive to the point of exaggeration, and Yuuji has spent enough time with him to know there's a sobering purpose to it. Nobara says anything her body doesn't, Megumi's facial expressions betray him when prodded enough.

Getou's always felt a little closed off in that regard—his reactions are controlled, sometimes carefully constructed like his curses. A sheer curtain that obscures, but doesn't hide. Even when Getou would beckon him closer and they'd share the same spot in the sun for a while, it felt as if Getou was thinking of something bigger, more significant—just barely out of reach.

Getou-sensei was always the one to invite him, though, and he only ever had kind words for Yuuji when the student was reluctant to share his struggles with his close friends.

There’s also the underlying, general feel of safety Getou has around him like Gojou does, which is why Yuuji’s concerns are mostly about Getou’s own well being.

So Yuuji may or may not be very nervous at the possible opportunity of jeopardising what little friendship they've built up, but there's also excitement bubbling up low in his stomach. A brew he wouldn't mind stirring. The opportunity to learn something new, find out what Getou’s thinking behind those sly smiles of his.  

Yuuji’s always faced battles head on without much thinking, figuring things out as they go. It would be dishonest to himself to not do it. 

"I wouldn't," he says, growing confident when Getou-sensei smiles, visibly pleased with his answer. "That's what I'm here for, right?"

"Right indeed," Getou says, dropping a few bills into the jar. 

Before Yuuji can count them, Getou-sensei leans forward and reaches for his chin. 

“Pardon me, then,” Getou says, a little breathless, and Yuuji falls into him. 

The first press of lips is... calm, almost careful. He doesn't know what he expected—maybe Getou being rougher, showcasing the fighter behind all his summons, but it's slow, purposeful, Getou's movements as meticulous as his craft is.

Sweet, timeless, like the seconds aren't quite ticking by. 

One of Getou’s hand is resting in the slope of Yuuji’s neck, thumb rubbing against it in circular motion. Yuuji’s shivering with each completed circle, and he wonders how it’d feel like with Getou’s gloves on, warm leather on bare skin.

It's only then Yuuji realises he's forgotten his own rule and closed his eyes—he cracks them open, blinking back into reality, only to be face to face with Getou’s amused expression. Mischievous like the fox he is, the telltale crinkle of his eyes is all the warning Yuuji gets before Getou goes in a second time.

And—

Whatever Getou-sensei is doing this time around, he doesn’t witness because it causes a temporary shutdown of his system. Yuuji just faintly registers something at the back of his mind. There’s blistering heat, dizzying pressure and a force that isn’t gentle, but also not unkind—

Yuuji’s head is spinning by the time Getou pulls back. His sensei uses the opportunity to peck the corner of his mouth; gently, softly, like a bandaid over a gushing wound, and it kick-starts Yuuji’s remaining brain cells into processing what just happened. 

"Holy shit," is all Yuuji gets out, breathless.

Getou laughs, the sound low and light, like he didn't just steal half of Yuuji’s soul through his mouth. "I'll take that as a compliment."

Yuuji can only nod, dumbfounded. No use in trying to understand what just happened aside from the obvious. When Getou reaches for his wallet once more and puts another bill into the jar, Yuuji manages to grab his wrist. “Wait! You already paid!”

“I kissed you a second time, didn't I?” Getou smiles, voice gaining that assured tone indicating he already knows he's right, and doesn't actually expect an answer, “it's only fair I compensate you accordingly.”

He might have a point there. Yuuji nods thoughtfully, letting him go, and watches Getou get up from his chair. He has so many questions, but it seems like they'll have to wait for another day.

He waves again, "Thank you! And tell Gojou-sensei I said Hi when you run into him!"

Mirth flashes in Getou’s eyes. 

"I will. Take care, Itadori-kun, and thank you for the kiss."