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Yuuji had every good intention of being the perfect house guest. Saying 'please' and 'thank you', complimenting the cooking before dutifully clearing his plate, helping with the dishes and, most importantly, being as inconspicuous as possible. The Fushiguros house is neat but small and one extra person under their roof is already enough to make it feel cramped.
It's far from the first time he's is staying over; Yuuji spending the night there has been a regular occurrence throughout highschool. However, things feel brand new and strange now that he and Megumi have finally gotten together. They've always been close, so not much has changed about the way they act around each other. Megumi hasn't officially told his parents, which sets Yuuji a little on edge despite his boyfriend's assurance that they must have already figured it out for themselves. Megumi's mother has always been lovingly accepting, his father mildly indifferent at best; there's no real reason to worry about getting into trouble with them.
Nevertheless, Yuuji wants to be mindful around Megumi's parents out of respect for the couple that basically took him in after his grandpa died. It's easy enough to do, since Megumi has never been particularly effusive, especially in public.
However, his well-meaning resolutions all come crumbling down when it's just the two of them in the quiet darkness of Megumi's room and Megumi's warm body rolls across the space between their futons and into his arms. It's harder to stick to his original plan of a quiet, restful night when Megumi's hands graze along the back of his neck and into his hair. That closeness is still new enough to light Yuuji up embarrassingly fast. He likes Megumi so very much, his hands and lungs desperately wanting to get their fill, skin-hungry and willing.
"You sure? What if your parents are still awake?" Yuuji breathes into Megumi's mouth, only half-committed to his regard by now, blissfully entranced by the minute, tingly friction of their bodies under the sheets.
"Just be quiet and it won't be a problem," Megumi whispers, hooking a leg over his hip and guiding Yuuji's hand down under the waistband of his pajama pants. Yuuji's fingers find the little straining protrusion creasing his underwear, fabric already damp. He's already tenting his own boxers after just a few kisses. Teenage hormones work fast and hit hard. In retrospect, it was foolish to think the need for secrecy would have curbed their appetites.
Yuuji nods and whispers a promise under his breath, squeezing into Megumi's space, face in his neck, hand between his legs, eager and solicitous, thrilling in youthful pride when Megumi squirms and turns his head to smother his pleasured whimpers into the pillow. It's wonderful, clandestine delight. But it's too good to be enough.
"Hey, d'you think… Can I…?" he asks, aroused and emboldened by the unperturbed stillness of the night, sure by now that they don't need to fear any interruptions. The only noises are the ones coming from the street outside.
His eyes, finally adjusting to the near darkness of the room, find the glimmer of Megumi's bleary gaze. Megumi swallows, a little nod of assent. And Yuuji's heart flips in his chest.
"Did you bring any?" Megumi asks.
Yuuji's shoulders drop, deflated. He didn't bring any condoms. He picked up the box to pack it in his overnight back but then willed himself to put it back instead. He did plan on being the perfect house guest, after all. He wasn't expecting to get as far as third base, much less hit a home run. By now, though, he's hard and aching and he wants it a little too much to take his mind off of it so easilly.
"Do you know where your— Are there any condoms in the bathroom?" He quickly rephrases the question, bashful but vaguely impressed by his own boldness.
Megumi must be too because instead of hitting him upside the head he just tells him. "Right cabinet next to the mirror, bottom shelf, behind the cleaning products."
Yuuji nods, solemnly, as if entrusted him with an important mission. If Megumi is giving him the go-ahead, then he can't back down. He's the level-headed one among the two of them, which means it's either a safe plan or Megumi wants him so much he's willing to risk it. In either case, Yuuji doesn't intend on letting his boyfriend down. He's sufficiently movitated to cast apprehension aside.
He slinks outside the room, feet feather-light on the linoleum floor and barely breathing. He moves cautiously in the dark, not wanting to turn the light on and give himself away. He feels movement and freezes in his tracks. Muted shuffling and the querulous creaking of floorboards behind the second bedroom's door. It must be the floor protesting under the extraordinary weight of Toji's body rolling over. Yuuji stands still and waits, heart pounding in his chest. When he hears nothing else, he exhales in relief. Not that it would be unequivocally suspicious to get caught on his way to the bathroom in the middle of the night, after all. He might just need to take a leak. He reminds himself it's all perfectly fine as he steps into the bathroom, but he still leaves the door ajar to avoid making noise.
He turns the least offending light on, steels himself and then gets to work with the dexterity of a seasoned thief. Rummaging through the cabinets proves to be the most unnerving part, every little noise he makes sounds like a defeaning thud echoing through the quiet apartment. Clearly not everything has a designated spot in there, the shelves are messy from frequent use, and soon Yuuji begins to suspect the box of condoms Megumi sent him after might not be in the same spot he'd last seen it. But then, finally, feeling around the back he feels a cardboard box; inside, a foil wrapper and…
"What are you doing in there, brat?"
Yuuji could swear he feels his soul leave his body. The only reason he doesn't jump out of his skin is the fact that, being around that house since middle school, he's gotten used to getting jumpscared like that. For all his impressive mass, Fushiguro Toji moves like a cat. The way he always manages to sneak up on him, Yuuji could never tell.
Yuuji slowly turns his head to see his boyfriend's father leaning against the doorframe, an unreadable expression on his face, lax, massive body bulging through his loose-fitting pajama. One big, bare foot lazily scratching at the other ankle. The scene is horror-movie worthy. The atavic part of Yuuji's hindbrain instinctively reads the potential threat of violence in that frame, even though Toji has only ever been bored with him, at worst. The man is just effortlessly threatening. Yuuji's just glad the fright has fully deflated what was left of his boner and he doesn't have to get caught crouched down to the floor sporting a hard-on like a horny house goblin.
"I— uh… uhhh…" he manages, eloquently. The condom feels incandescent pinched between his fingertips. He drops it back in its box, scalded. "… Toilet?"
"Don't think you'll find it in there," Toji drawls, scathingly matter-of-factly, and then, to Yuuji's horror, crouches down next to him and reaches inside the same. "Looking for this?" he asks, fishing out the offending proof of his (poorly attempted) misdeeds.
"Ha-ah—! N-no, not at—"
"Pick your answer carefully," Toji warns with a look that makes Yuuji's skin crawl.
He might be dense but this time he gets the hint clear as day.
"Yessir," he wheezes out in mortified, apologetic assent, as if that confession used up all the air in his lungs. If there's no use in pretending he wasn't just about to bone his precious son in the other room, he might as well not look like he was about to do so without wearing protection.
"Yeah, I was too."
Yuuji's ears burn, either from embarrassment or the weight of the knowledge being dropped on him. So that's why Toji caught him. He was also about to…
Yuuji's face is burning too. He guesses it just makes sense. He doesn't remember his own parents, but he imagines that's just what parents do, they wait until everyone else in the house is asleep. Good for Megumi's parents. Such a loving family. So united.
Toji picks the condom out of the box. "Oh," he lets out. "It's the last one."
They look at each other.
Yuuji intensely wishes the floor would open up and swallow him alive. The situation has gone from horrific to surreal. He is not about to fight his boyfriend's father over the last condom to see who gets to fuck that night.
… Is he?
"Uh. Rock Paper Scissor for it?" he panickedly suggests before he has a chance to rethink his disastrous instincts.
Toji's expression is stony, eyes narrowing slightly at him. Yuuji guesses they're skipping directly to the part where he's dead. Instead, Toji gets up on his feet and wordlessly pockets the condom.
Ah.
Right. That might as well be it. It's the most logical resolution.
Yuuji sits stiffly in seiza, eyes trained on the tile floor in mortification. Shame burns fiercely at the back of his neck, but even so, he can't deny the little sting of hurt pride at the show of easy dominance. Being dismissed like that feels a little unfair, after all.
"Stay out of my stash, runt. We run out fast enough as it is," Toji instructs, sounding all too bored to be dropping such truth bombs on poor Yuuji like that. "You trying to overcompensate or something?"
Yuuji's head shoots up, indignant and offended by the unnecessary dig. There's truly no need for low blows like that. He's about to protest when his eyes fall on the empty box Toji's holding up for him to see.
"You gotta wear the right size or you might as well not be using one," Toji explains, laconically. The box says ""XL."
Yuuji's head spins. He now wishes they had skipped straight to the part where he's dead.
"Didn't the brat tell you his mother got him his own or what?"
Yuuji barely regains his bearings in time to catch the brand-new box of condoms Toji tosses at him. Regular sized, he can't help but notice, as embarrassment sinks deep into his guts. They're the right size, after all. Not his brand, though, but he's not going to complain when he's making it out of there with his life and Toji's blessing to go plow his precious son.
"Tell the brat to keep them in his room from now on. I don't want to see your ugly little snout going through my stuff next time," Toji says.
Yuuji obsequiously sputters some thanks and scuttles out of the bathroom, feeling his knees tremble slightly and his heart pound force than it did before on his way to the bathroom. When he finally makes his way back to Megumi's room his face is pulsing with heat. He crawls back under the covers feeling like prey finding cover during a hunt and lies there stiffly. Megumi is lying silently next to him, massaging the bridge of his nose. Neither of them utters a word for a while.
"You got the—"
"Yup."
"… You ran into my dad, didn't you?"
Yuuji buries his face in his hands and nods. "D'you still wanna…?"
"Do you?"
"No," Yuuji whines, crumpling up onto himself and disappearing completely under the covers, almost relieved he doesn't have to try to get hard again after all that. "I'm never setting foot here ever again," he gripes. Megumi sighs and encouragingly rubs his shoulders to console him.
"You're so dramatic…"
He's so gonna rip his dad a new one.
Toji waits until he hears the door to Megumi's room close fretfully to let himself smirk.
One thing Toji loves about that Itadori kid is how easy he is to scare shitless. He's been coming around their house for years now and it never once got old.
He's a good kid. Toji likes him. He's happy his brat found someone like that, with a good heart and ready hands. He's not going to stop terrorizing him for own amusement, though. Especially not now that the brats have made things funnier for him by taking their friendship one step further.
He shakes his head and huffs a chuckle under his breath. His wife is going to have a field day with that one once he tells her.
He turns the light off and goes back to his bedroom, moving assuredly in the dark and crawling onto his bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. His hand finds his wife's ankle and brushes along her leg, making his way up her soft, waiting body.
"You're gonna love this," he whispers, allusive, when he gets to her ear but stops in his tracks feeling her breath gently hit his face.
Her eyes are closed, her chest rising and falling slow and steady. What little light filters in through the windows delineates the delicate curve of her naked breast, still spilling out from when he uncovered it before, with a thin, bleary line. She's already asleep.
He sighs. He did tell her not to start without him, after all. She must have listened to him and gotten bored. He takes a moment to make out the shape of her face in the dark. Then, carefully, he settles down next to her, his large, lumbering body arranging itself against her small, slender one, limbs slotting together in a listless twine. It's an easy fit, comforting and familiar. He pulls the covers over her, rough palm smoothing over the plush, dormant swell of her breast once more, longingly slipping it inside her nightgown once again. He mourns the feeling of her nipple pebbling under his touch. He's not going to wake the poor woman up again, he knows she needs her rest.
He fishes the condom out of his pocket, morosely setting it on the nightstand. Maybe he'll get to make good use of it in the morning. He rests his head on the pillow next to hers, nose buried in her hair, content with filling his lungs with her in the dark.
Megumi's always been a judgemental child, even as a newborn he would look at Toji with an expression of distaste, eyes wandering elsewhere as if unimpressed when Toji held him. Toji's had plenty of time to get used to his son's disapproval by now, so the daggers Megumi is shooting at him with his eyes the next morning bounce right off of him.
He doesn't need to ask to know the brat didn't get lucky last night either. Not that he needs to know at all.
"If you're gonna do something stupid I'd rather you do it in the house," Toji offers, unprompted.
The look his son shoots him is sour enough to curdle milk. Toji knows he can look forward to some form of retaliation in the near future.