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Yuuji quickly notices that Sukuna is oddly triggered when someone touches him, even unintentionally. It happens on a regular basis, scaring the people away.
So when he’s training with Gojou-sensei, and the man ruffles his hair playfully after Yuuji applies the move he taught him, he’s not surprised that Sukuna’s mouth appears on his cheek, his cursed energy flaring up. What is unexpected is an attempt to spit at Sensei with wrath. Emphasizes the attempt part. Gojou-sensei merely raises one of his eyebrows, the limitless technique protecting him from the saliva attack. Yuuji mentally facepalms, suppressing a groan. This is a nursery-level threat.
Sukuna clicks his tongue, annoyed. “Coward,” he grumbles tauntingly. “Touching my vessel carelessly, yet daring to diminish me.” He scoffs. “I will flay the skin from that audacious hand myself.”
“Hey, shut up, Sukuna! Don’t talk like this to Sensei!” Yuuji hisses, glancing at his teacher sheepishly.
The man snorts. “Aw, Sukuna~! I don’t totally hate you, but I’m not interested in catching a millennium-old disease, you see,” he drawls lazily, grinning. “Who knows what lives in that ancient mug of yours~?”
“How insolent!” Sukuna’s rage skyrockets, so Yuuji forcefully pushes him back inside, cutting him off from an ounce of control he gained somehow.
He sighs, hanging his head low. “I’m sorry, Sensei,” Yuuji mumbles apologetically. “I have no idea what possessed him.” He looks up to assess his teacher’s anger.
Gojou-sensei just snickers from amusement, a mischievous glint in his eyes, peeking over his sunglasses. “Don’t apologize, Yuuji. I guess Sukuna woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Since, like, forever.” He shrugs nonchalantly, then leans closer, tilting his head, curious. “He bothers you a lot?” His tone is softer.
Yuuji vigorously shakes his head, flailing his hands in protest. “No, Sensei! It’s okay! I have it under control!” He reports, straightening up and saluting.
The man’s mouth curls upward, showing a rare, genuine smile. His hand hovers above Yuuji’s head before Gojou-sensei gasps and yanks it away to clutch at his chest dramatically. Yuuji blinks, confused.
“What? I like my skin, Yuuji~” His teacher winks jokingly, drawing a startled chuckle out of him, and the atmosphere loosens notably. Sensei grins with enthusiasm and clasps his hands. “Let’s get back to our training!” he announces in a cheerful voice.
Well. Yuuji is just glad that his teacher doesn’t seem to care about the exchange that much, unbothered.
But the thing is—Sukuna keeps appearing with his mean snarls, and it makes Yuuji self-conscious of every smallest touch. He never noticed how easy it is for him to hang his shoulder over his friend’s neck or high-five them.
When Sukuna gets in a heated debate with Todou of all people, with the two throwing claims and insults at each other loudly, Yuuji simply tunes it out while wondering what could be a cause for Sukuna’s violent reaction. Maybe he just doesn’t like to be touched, and since they share a body…
Yuuji frowns.
Does it mean Sukuna is repulsed?
From then on, Yuuji starts being careful with the touches. But damn, it’s harder than he thought. Not for the others—they began avoiding being too close after getting the memo. It’s tough for him. Those small affectionate gestures are way more important to him than he originally assumed.
He’s fine, though! He can do that!
Then, another “accident” happens.
Yuuji is sent on a mission with Kugisaki, and they both fight one low-level curse. It doesn’t possess much of a threat, except for being troublesome in a different matter. Every time any of them try to approach it, the octopus-looking curse releases an ink-like slippery substance, not letting them deliver the final blow. They quickly grow frustrated, their close-range fighting style not matching the opponent.
“Ah, I’m done playing!” his female friend declares, annoyed. “Just let me put the damned nail inside your damned body!” She shouts, surging forward.
The curse tenses the moment Kugisaki approaches, and Yuuji can sense instinctively that the next ink attack will be way bigger than the earlier ones. He quickly snatches the girl from the straight blow, tugging at her waist and twisting them to the side.
That’s when Sukuna bristles under his skin, forming a mouth on his cheek with a low growl.
“Are you okay, Kugisaki?” Yuuji has priorities.
“Shit, that was a close call,” she mutters and pats his arms still wrapped around her protectively. “I’m good, Itadori. Let go.” He does.
“Pathetic. A low-life unworthy of my vessel’s intervention,” Sukuna snarls, his cursed energy almost palpable. “Your fighting skills are an insult, woman. Correct it.”
“HAAA?!” Kugisaki turns to glare at Yuuji’s cheek, her hammer pointing at him.
“Guys, maybe not now? The curse is…” He placates with a nervous laugh, glancing at the octopus curse slowly trailing in their direction.
“Did you seriously call me a useless lowlife, you old fart?!” His female friend continues, offended, and scoffs, completely forgetting about the danger.
“Please, could you…” Yuuji tries again, but it’s pointless.
“Try hammering that attitude into silence, peasant. You are speaking to a king,” Sukuna replies condescendingly, and Yuuji can feel the stretch on his cheek, indicating a grimace. “Must you always be this shrill? Your existence is rather deafening for someone so worthless,” he ends with indignation.
Kugisaki looks like she’s ready to commit murder, which is nice in the current situation, just… wrong victim!
“GUYS!” Yuuji yells. “The curse!”
“Yes, Itadori, the curse!” His friend agrees, and he almost breathes with relief when… “The one living like a parasite in your body! Should I show him what my hammer can do?” Kugisaki taunts with a sweet smile.
Yuuji groans. “Can we focus on the other curse, please?”
“Oh, for the—stop whining about that litter already, brat.” Sukuna scoffs. “Let me borrow your hand,” he demands, and before Yuuji can protest, his arm moves on its own, tattoos swirling, nails sharpening. Sukuna aims at the curse, and with one flick of his wrist, it dissolves into pieces. Yuuji stares, stunned, his hand going back to normal, dropping on his side. “Can your flawed hammer do that, fragile woman?” Sukuna cackles.
Kugisaki clicks her tongue. “Are you experiencing dementia, old man? Hammers don’t cut through shit.” She rolls her eyes.
Yuuji gasps, finally processing the outcome.
“Dementia…?” Sukuna scoffs.
“Wait, wait, wait!” he butts in, raising his hand to emphasize. “You could do that this entire time, Sukuna?!” Yuuji exclaims, flabbergasted.
For once, both the girl and the curse agree:
“Shut up, Itadori.”
“Silence, brat.”
*****
His vessel is a complete, heedless fool. Sukuna cannot fathom what is going on in that empty head of his—if anything, that is. Is the brat taunting him with these revolting displays? This excessive… fondness? As if the boy is on this level of intimacy with those weaklings. Hmph. Such reckless eyesores, grabbing his vessel with their dirty hands. There is something impossibly irking in the way his vessel keeps leaning into their affection, and before Sukuna realizes, rage consumes him till he’s unable to stop himself from interfering. The nagging feeling of wrongness claws at his insides like a burning acid.
It’s beyond his own experience. Close proximity, warm gestures, fondness. Obnoxious. Sickening. Unreachable.
At first, Sukuna blames those insects hovering around his vessel. They are both audacious and disrespectful. Weak. But then he notices that the brat isn’t any better with his guard down, wagging his imaginary tail at any chance.
He should teach him a lesson. Brat will know whose vessel he is at the end of it. Sukuna smirks, pleased with the plot.
The plan is to throw an order here and an insult there and force this foolish boy to be obedient to Sukuna, as he should.
Unfortunately for him, the brat does not share his enthusiasm. Even if Sukuna went as far as to bring his vessel’s consciousness to him so they can have a proper chat. Showing off his power? Irrelevant accusations.
He begins the scolding right away, voicing his distaste. The boy is standing in front of him in the dimmed redness of his domain, his arms crossed, sulky. Sukuna wants to wipe this expression from his vessel’s face, scowling from disgust at the display. It might work on that white-haired sorcerer, who would find it adorable, but it won’t on Sukuna.
“I get it.” Brat sighs and rubs the back of his head restlessly. “I mean, I don’t really? But I’m trying to understand, Sukuna. I swear I’m not doing this on purpose, okay?” He laughs awkwardly.
Sukuna scoffs. “Stop lying, you fool,” he growls warningly and flexes his jaw, his blood already boiling.
His vessel gasps and holds out his hands in a placating manner. “I’m not lying! I really try to be mindful of not touching—”
“LIES!” Sukuna roars, surprising even himself with the volume. The boy winces, but he ignores that. “Empty words! Pathetic,” he spits the last word and huffs with disbelief. “I can feel it, brat. Every single touch. Your…” He grimaces. “Joy. It’s unsavory.”
There is a moment of silence, with the brat staring at him, growing more angry with every passing second.
“What else am I supposed to do? I’m already avoiding getting close to anyone so you won’t treat them horribly. What else can I do?!” His vessel raises his voice.
“Am I speaking to a wall, or is your brain malfunctioning?” Sukuna snarls. “Just stop touching them, for curse's sake!” He shouts, frustrated.
“Then who am I supposed to touch?!” The brat yells back incredulously.
“ME!” Sukuna roars, the word exploding out of him raw and unfiltered, and then falls silent, self-shocked.
Because that wasn't part of the plan. He didn't—he doesn't care! He doesn't need such a thing!
His vessel is looking at him almost equally dumbfounded, unblinking. His tensed muscles relax a bit, an angry frown disappears, leaving a thoughtful face in its place.
Oh no.
“So this entire time you weren't repulsed or trying to torment me, you were just… jealous?” The boy asks slowly, comprehending.
“No,” Sukuna denies immediately, because what the fuck.
It can't be the truth.
He wasn't aware of it himself?!
Then his vessel huffs a breath, nods to himself, and approaches him with clear determination in his steps.
Sukuna won't ever admit it, but the sight makes him a bit anxious, so he takes a hesitant step back.
“What are you doing, brat?” he sneers threateningly, though, but the boy simply closes the distance between them, and in the next second Sukuna finds himself enveloped in a hug. He freezes at the sudden contact. What the fuck. “What the fuck?” he mutters out loud. Then he realizes their proximity, the warmth of another body against him, and he loves hates it. “Let go,” Sukuna demands.
“No.” Brat shifts the hold, hugging Sukuna even tighter.
“I'm not joking. Let go of me in this instant,” Sukuna grumbles, but then the boy snaps his head to him, and their faces are only inches apart, what the fuck.
“Sukuna. We both know that if you really didn't want me to touch you, I would already be bleeding at your feet,” his vessel points out bluntly, clearly unimpressed. “So, be honest with yourself for once and hug me back.” He raises one brow challengingly.
Sukuna grits his teeth and wraps his arms around the boy's middle, tugging him closer, which makes the brat yelp. Then he wanders his right hand from the boy's back to his neck, his fingertips digging lightly into the soft hair there. Sukuna puts his head on his vessel’s shoulder and sighs with content.
Finally.
He was aching to do that for a long time.
It feels so much better than he imagined. He takes a deep breath, nuzzling closer subconsciously, expecting the boy to comment on it. But he's oddly quiet, so they stand like this in a comfortable silence, his vessel not letting go till Sukuna is ready to withdraw first.
Then he’s already pushing the boy away harshly, the brat blinking at him in confusion.
“You.” Sukuna gulps, genuinely bewildered for the first time in ages, not knowing what to say. “This.” His voice trembles slightly, so he clenches his fists tightly.
He, the King of Curses, being at a loss for words because of a mere hug. Who is the pathetic one now?
“Suku—”
“It didn’t happen. Forget about it,” he commands in a hurry and rudely forces his vessel out of the space of his domain.
The moment the brat is gone, Sukuna digs claws into his shoulders, overwhelmed. His entire body is still tingling from an unfamiliar warmth of the other person.
Fuck, he misses the touch already.