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Itadori stumbled into the quiet of their shared apartment, kicking off his shoes and letting out a deep, exhausted sigh. The mission Gojo had sent them on had been grueling, taking them across multiple cursed sites and testing their endurance in ways they weren’t quite prepared for. His muscles ached, and his eyes were heavy, but the thought of finally being home made everything worth it. He glanced at Fushiguro, who was walking a few steps behind, equally worn out but maintaining that usual stoic expression. It was a comfortable silence between them that only came after surviving something dangerous side by side. They didn’t need to talk to know what the other was thinking—both were just looking forward to some rest.
The two of them decided to share an apartment after everything that had happened in Shibuya. The first week back at Jujutsu High after a month-long vacation, was hard. Nightmares plagued both of them, resulting in many sleepless nights. Eventually, they realized they weren’t alone, and that the other, just on the other side of the wall, was experiencing the same.
So, they got an apartment together, with Gojo’s help (read: money).
But as Itadori tossed his bag onto the couch, a sudden thought hit him, pulling him out of the haze of fatigue. He frowned, counting the days in his head. “Wait a second,” he murmured, eyes widening as realization struck. “Fushiguro, your birthday’s tomorrow, right?”
He looked over at his friend. Itadori’s mind raced. How could he have forgotten? Despite the chaos of their mission, he should’ve known.
“Oh, yeah I guess it is.” He replies. “We’ve been so busy, I must’ve forgotten.”
Itadori hummus as he sits down at the kitchen island, “What do you want to do then? We have the day off tomorrow, so we could go out somewhere? We can invite Kugisaki and Sensei too.”
Fushiguro sighs, grabbing two glasses from the cupboard and filling them up with juice. “I think Kugisaki is spending the weekend with Maki still. And…I think I’ve had enough interactions with Gojo this week.”
“The week just started?”
“Exactly.”
Itadori laughs, “Okay, then what are you doing for your birthday?”
Fushiguro sits down at the island, across from Itadori, “Honestly? I’d like to just spend it at home here with you. You can plan what we do, I’ll be okay with anything.”
The other couldn’t lie to himself and say that those words didn’t make his heart skip a beat, because they did. He could feel the faint blush spreading across his face. He smiles.
“Okay.”
It wasn’t that long ago since he had discovered his feelings for the stoic male. He thinks these feelings have always been around, but with the chaos of Shibuya, not to mention the literal curse of sharing a body with him, he didn’t exactly have the right time to figure out those feelings. He’s accepted the fact that maybe it was for the better, imagine trying to juggle your not-so-straight feelings for your “best friend” slash neighbor, whilst simultaneously trying not to die.
Oh, scratch that, it wasn’t for the better.
Itadori snaps out of his gaze when he sees Fushiguro in the corner of his eyes taking off his jacket, slightly revealing his toned abs when his shirt rises along with it. Oh, just great. He says to himself. He totally feels like a man in the Victorian age seeing a woman’s ankles for the first time.
“I’ll take a shower first, whilst you think about it.” The other says before shutting the bathroom door behind him.
Itadori rests his face in the palm of his hands, “I’m so screwed.”
He sighs before getting up and walking over to their shared room. They both agreed to share a room, even though the apartment had two bedrooms. Fushiguro reasoned with the whole nightmares thing, and Itadori agreed. However, he’s sure now that a part of him during the agreement wanted to be even closer to the latter.
He opened his bedside drawer, rummaging through the DVDs he had, and picking blindly. A movie night didn’t sound half-bad, they just to relax and try to make the most of the weekend that was taken from them because of their extended mission.
“Did you think of anything?” A voice from behind him says. He turns around and proudly shows the DVD. “A movie?”
“Well, not for your birthday, just for tonight for us to relax. I have your birthday plans ready don’t worry.” He lied. He did not have a single clue as to what they would be doing tomorrow.
“Okay, is that a romance movie though?” Fushiguro raises an eyebrow.
Itadori didn’t realize he had picked it out until the latter said so, “It’s a rom-com! I watched it with Sensei, I think you’ll like it.”
The other shrugs, walking away. “Go take a shower, you stink. I’ll go set up the movie and everything.”
“You smelt worse before you got in the shower!” Itadori yelled walking into the bathroom.
He almost fell asleep in the shower. With how steamy the bathroom already was from Fushiguro’s hellish, lava-like showers, as well as the extreme exhaustion he was already feeling, he had to pinch himself to stay awake. He could barely find the strength to stay awake and get into fresh clothes. Once he got out, the smell of popcorn was in the air, and he walked towards the living room.
“Fushiguro?”
“Oh finally, I thought you died in there.”
Itadori throws his head back laughing, “No thanks to you. The steam in there almost made me pass out.”
“Shut up.” But there was no malice to it. “I pulled out the couch, brought out those fluffy blankets you like, and made some popcorn.”
“Jeez, it’s almost like it’s supposed to be my birthday tomorrow.” He mumbles.
Itadori joins Fushiguro on the couch, picks up the remote, and starts the movie. “Why did you choose this anyway, if you’ve already watched it?” He hears beside him.
“We’re both too tired to pay attention to an actual movie, it’s more for the ambiance. Plus, we never use this living room unless we have guests.”
“Hm.”
The living room was quiet except for the soft hum of the television, the movie’s scenes playing out in subdued colors on the screen. The two lay comfortably on the couch, bodies only a few feet away from each other. The day had been relentless, leaving them both physically and mentally drained, but Itadori’s bright eyes betrayed no signs of exhaustion. Fushiguro, on the other hand, looked like he could fall asleep at any moment, his messy hair shadowing the dark circles under his eyes.
He let out a low sigh, glancing sideways at Itadori, who was trying—rather poorly—to feign interest in the movie. “You’re tired,” Fushiguro muttered, his voice barely louder than the faint dialogue from the TV
Itadori immediately shook his head, an almost comical amount of energy in the gesture. “Nah, I’m fine! This movie’s great. Totally gripping!” he insisted, though his eyes had wandered away from the screen minutes ago.
Fushiguro raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “You’ve yawned three times in the last minute and we’re barely ten minutes in.” he pointed out flatly.
Itadori groaned, flopping dramatically onto the couch. “That’s just because you keep bringing it up! If you stop saying I’m tired, I won’t feel tired.”
Fushiguro snorted, an uncharacteristic smirk tugging at his lips. “That’s not how it works, dumbass.”
The playful bickering continued, with Fushiguro pressing his case and Itadori stubbornly denying any signs of fatigue.
“You should sleep,” Fushiguro said again, more firmly this time. “You’re going to pass out on the couch and complain about a stiff neck tomorrow.”
Itadori huffed and sat up straighter, determined to prove otherwise. “You should sleep! You look like you’re one step away from hibernation!” he countered.
Fushiguro rolled his eyes, his patience wearing thin. “I was about to sleep until you started arguing about it,” he muttered, but when he peeked back, he caught Itadori staring at him with that stubborn determination he could never quite understand—or resist.
The movie kept playing, but Itadori reached for the remote to turn the volume down and moved the popcorn to the side table where it wouldn’t get in the way. He turned to look at the other next to him, whose eyes were fully closed now, breathing slow, but still tip-toeing the line of being awake and asleep.
Itadori glanced at his phone, the minutes dragging as he tried to keep himself awake. The time was getting closer to midnight, but his eyelids felt heavier by the second.
He knew he was being ridiculous, but there was something special about this moment—about being the first one to say it. He was sure no one else would beat him even if he waited until morning to say it, but something inside him really wanted to be first.
Finally, when the clock struck midnight, Itadori leaned toward Fushiguro, his voice a gentle whisper. “Happy birthday, Megumi.”
Fushiguro opened his eyes slightly, his gaze hazy but soft as he turned to Itadori. “You stayed up for that?” he asked, his tone laced with quiet amusement.
“Of course,” Itadori said, his grin faltering for a moment as he hesitated. Then, before he could stop himself, the words he’d been holding back slipped out. “You’re important to me, Megumi. More than anyone else.”
Fushiguro was already starting to wake up after the birthday wish, but hearing Itadori say his name made him wake up fully. “What…?”
Itadori scratched the back of his neck, his cheeks flushed. He let out a nervous huff, deciding it was too late to back out. “I mean it. I think I’ve been in love with you for a while now.”
The room felt impossibly still, the movie on the TV all but forgotten.
Fushiguro sat up, his gaze searching Itadori’s face. There was no hint of a joke, no teasing grin—it was raw, honest, and unguarded.
He swallowed, his cheeks heating up. “You’re an idiot,” he said softly, but the way his voice wavered gave him away.
He leaned closer, his forehead brushing against Itadori’s. “But, I guess I’m an idiot too.”
Itadori’s grin returned, softer this time, as relief and joy flooded his chest. “So… does that mean you like me back?”
Fushiguro sighed, a small, rare smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah. I do, Yuji.”
Neither of them mentioned the movie again, their attention now entirely on each other as the night stretched on. Fushiguro raised his blanket, signaling Itadori to come closer, to which the latter gladly did whilst raising his blanket to go right over them.
Itadori was right, the movie was for ambiance.
Fushiguro stirred awake, the first rays of sunlight peeking through the curtains and spilling over the couch where he had fallen asleep. His hand instinctively reached out to the spot beside him, the lingering warmth telling him that Itadori had been there not long ago.
“Yuji?” He called out with a rasp in his voice. But the space was empty now, and his fingers brushed against nothing but the soft fabric of the couch. Cracking open one eye, Fushiguro frowned and sat up slowly, running a hand through his sleep-mussed hair.
The faint smell of breakfast wafted through the air—a mix of eggs, something sweet like pancakes, and the unmistakable scent of coffee. It was comforting, grounding even, but his brow furrowed as the sound of voices filtered in from the kitchen. The low murmur of conversation carried with it Itadori’s unmistakable voice, bright and cheerful as usual, but there was someone else too—Gojo. Of course, it had to be Gojo.
Rubbing his eyes, Fushiguro stretched and swung his legs off the couch, padding toward the kitchen. As he approached, the scene came into view: Yuji with his apron on, standing at the stove, chatting with their Sensei.
Gojo leaned casually against the counter, a mug of coffee in hand, grinning like a proud parent. “You’re cooking skills never fail to amaze me, Yuji.” Gojo teased, earning a laugh from the pink-haired boy.
“Don’t worry, I’ll cook for your birthday too.” Itadori shot back with a playful smirk.
Fushiguro cleared his throat, “What are you doing here?” he grumbled, his tone sharper than he intended but softened by the lingering drowsiness in his voice.
Both heads turned toward him, Itadori’s face lighting up instantly. “Good morning, Megumi!” he said brightly, waving the spatula in greeting. “You must’ve been really tired because Sensei has been here for around an hour now! He teleported into our kitchen and made himself some hot chocolate.”
Gojo giggled, “I ran out!”
Itadori continued, “And so I woke up from the smell, we chatted a bit, and I decided to make us some breakfast.”
Fushiguro rolls his eyes but sits down next to the elder. He noticed a small red paper bag on the counter, “This for me?”
Gojo lets out a laugh, “They were! Until I ate them all!”
Itadori sets down two plates in front of them, and a freshly brewed black coffee in front of Fushiguro. “Gojo-sensei is just staying for breakfast, he has something to do during the day, but he said he can make it for dinner!”
“Dinner? With him?” The latter groaned.
“And…Kugisaki, maybe Maki too, and Inumaki…” Itadori scratches the back of his head sheepishly. “Look, I know you said you’d rather spend it here at home just the two of us, but I couldn’t help it. You deserve to be around everyone that loves you today.”
Gojo turns to watch the two act as if they’re the only ones in the room and softly smiles. “Yuji’s right.” He chimes in.
“I’m sure everyone else would want to know why I found you two cuddling on the couch this morning, too.” He grins, holding out his phone to show a picture of the two wrapped around each other. Even though they had fallen asleep with Fushiguro embracing Itadori, practically engulfing him. Gojo had found them in the total opposite position, with Fushiguro’s face buried in Itadori’s chest, taking him all in.
The two, wide-eyed, both tried grabbing the phone for themselves, even though they both knew that they couldn’t touch him.
“Ah, young love. You two are adorable,” he said with a teasing grin, earning a withering glare from Fushiguro and a faint blush from Itadori. “Food was great as always, Yuji. I’ll see you guys later!”
Then, he disappeared, bringing along another pancake with him.
Fushiguro sighed and focussed his attention back to his lover. His gaze softened as he looked at Itadori. “Next time, just wake me up,” he said quietly.
Itadori’s smile softened in return. “Got it.”
Despite his lingering grumpiness, Fushiguro found himself staring at Itadori lovingly as the latter ate his food.
“What? Is there something on my face?”
Fushiguro huffed, “Nothing, I just can’t believe he got a picture of us.”
“I know right? He’s scary sometimes.” Itadori makes a face that forces Fushiguro’s smile to widen. “Uh, you’re still staring, Megumi.”
“Thank you for making this a good birthday.” He says.
Itadori tilts his head in confusion. “The day has just started though?”
“Yeah, but…” Fushiguro takes a moment to just look at the features on Itadori’s face, with the sun shining from the windows directly onto his delicate features. “I know it’ll be a good day because you’re here.”
Itadori softens even more, which Fushiguro didn’t even know was possible.
“I love you, Yuji.”
Itadori smiles too, “I love you too.”