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Megumi wakes to final loop of a ringtone, a small groan leaving his lips as the blaring noise comes to an end.
His body feels constricted, weighed down, warm and cold all at once—definitely consequences of the alcohol from last night. Just the thought of moving has a low and exaggerated groan leaving his lips.
For the next thirty seconds he doesn't open his eyes, hoping that the caller will move on or that his phone will die before it ringing starts again. The following silence is comforting, comforting enough to let himself drift off again—not able to recognize the foreign sheets and mattress below him before he is lost to sleep again.
Tsumiki's ringtone echoing loudly through the studio startles him awake again, whole body jolting in surprise as he looks around the dark space in front of him. The second loop of the ringtone has him sucking in a deep breath and pouting at the thought of moving his aching body from the warm bed—but it's Tsumiki; he compromises with himself by closing his eyes until the third loop starts.
But in the short silence between the piano notes, the bed is moves beneath him and a rush of cold air is flowing over him under the blanket. A shiver runs down his spine and he tries to adjust his eyes to the dark, barely hearing the mumbled I'll get it I'll get it over his phone. He blinks harshly a few times as he watches the retreating figure in mild confusion, his sleep(and hungover)-ridden brain struggling to put the pieces together.
As the previous day starts to replay in his mind, he starts to question whether he's still asleep—the events more like a dream than reality. His lame and mumbled invitation to Yuuji for dinner at Gojo's estate, Yuuji's eager acceptance, then Yuuji's lame and mumbled invitation to go through his closet, the poor excuse of a business meeting at Gojo's estate, the dinner following, his drunken excuse to go back to Yuuji's apartment—because no he did not leave a jacket there—then their following giggly and exaggerated retelling of the evening on Yuuji's couch. He can't remember everything they said, just that Yuuji didn't question him about his supposed jacket when he whined about being cold, only offered him a hoodie and warmer pants like there was no other option.
He looks up to find Yuuji standing beside the bed, holding out Megumi's phone and attempting to stifle a yawn. Megumi lifts his hand to take the device but his gaze lingers—the soft smile Yuuji's giving him causing his stomach to churn nervously. Even in the dim light he can see the bedhead and sleep lines etched into his skin, displaying a rather good night's rest—one that Megumi is starting to feel guilty about interrupting.
He clears his throat as he answers, shooting Yuuji a quick and apologetic smile before speaking, "Hello?"
"Megumi! Thank god you're okay," Tsumiki cries, "I figured with the storm last night you stayed at Gojo's, but he called me just now asking if you made it back okay and you weren't in you room," he can hear her sigh of relief, and another wave of guilt crashes over him. "Where are you?"
He silently curses Gojo. There's only one reason he would call Tsumiki and not Megumi directly.
"I'm—uh," he hesitates and looks up to quickly glance around Yuuji's apartment. The studio space is relaxing, something he has expressed to Yuuji before. It is small but cozy, and Yuuji seems to love the space, happily explaining the history of the building and the photos and movie posters covering the walls when he first brought Megumi in. He bites his lip to suppress a smile, "I'm at Yuuji's."
"Oh my god!" he pulls the phone away again in preparation, her following squeal echoing out of the speaker loudly. He feels a dull ache in his temples—a mental reminder to ask Yuuji for pain meds. "Wait you stayed the night there? Does that—"
"Tsumiki," he interrupts quickly, turning his head toward the wall and gripping the blanket in his lap. He considers telling her that he had the option to go back to the lodge and didn't, but quickly decides against it, "No, I drank too much last night, I fell asleep here."
He still hasn't come to terms with the fact that he woke up in Yuuji's bed, when the last thing he remembers is being on the couch, or that the weight and warmth he felt this morning was not due to sleep, but rather Yuuji's body trapping him against the bed.
Tsumiki hums into the phone and Megumi bites back a groan. He knows her too well to dismiss it as a simple response, already knowing what questions are running through her mind and the interrogation he's sure to receive as soon as he steps into the lodge. He can only hope that she doesn't involve Nobara.
"Well, I hope you're comfortable there. You're gonna be there for a while," there's a slight wobble to her words, almost like she's trying not to laugh.
Megumi's eyes widen and he quickly looks to the window beside him. It provides little information, the snow covered window lightly glowing in the twilight. "Wait, what?"
"The storm last night. Whole town is covered in snow. The front door of the lodge is completely buried."
His eyes shoot to the door next to the kitchen, thinking of the narrow wooden staircase he stumbled up last night while clinging to Yuuji's arm. If the lodge door is covered, then the stairs are sure to be unusable. A small giggle on the other end of the line snaps him out of the thought, mouth folding into a frown.
"We can probably still have dinner."
"I'm sorry Tsumiki," he sighs, scrubbing a hand through the hair at the base of his neck, "I know you had a whole day planned."
"Pfff…don't worry about that Gumi," she says with a small laugh, "Nobara and Maki will keep me company, and I'm sure you'll have a great day with Itadori."
His lips quirk down into a pout, mostly because he can't deny her words.
"Merry Christmas Megumi! I'll see you later okay?"
"Merry Christmas Tsumiki," he says quietly, looking down into his lap, "See you later."
He tosses his phone behind him, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and looking towards the kitchen. Yuuji is leaning against the counter with his back to Megumi, presumably trying to give him a semblance privacy. With a quick exhale he stands and slowly makes his way over. The space is a bit brighter now, illuminated by the warm kitchen light and the decorative Pac-Man light on Yuuji's coffee table.
Yuuji smiles over at him as he walks up, holding a mug out in his direction. "Mornin' Fushi!" He waits for Megumi to have a secure grip on the ceramic before leaning back again, "Merry Christmas."
Megumi flushes lightly as he brings the coffee up to his lips, eyeing Yuuji over the rim of the mug. "Merry Christmas Yuuji."
A few seconds of silence slip between them as Megumi takes a spot beside him against the counter, their arms brushing briefly. Even through his sleeve Megumi can feel the warmth radiating off him; he resists the urge to step closer and chase it.
"Everything okay?" Yuuji asks, turning enough to meet Megumi's eyes.
He kisses his teeth as he lowers the mug, holding it against his chest with both hands. "Tsumiki says we're snowed in."
Yuuji's eyes dart over to the door and back to Megumi, eyebrows raised in shock, "Really?" He shrugs in response. Yuuji hums, twisting his torso to place his cup behind Megumi on the counter before he's pushing off and walking towards the door. Megumi watches quizzically, taking a tentative step deeper into the kitchen.
Yuuji leans down to look through the peephole on the front door before sending a quick glance over his shoulder. Megumi's eyes widen at the silent question, and he takes a panicked step forward.
"Yuuji—I don't know if that's—"
Before he can get the words out Yuuji is unlocking the front door and tugging it open. To his credit, it's not nearly as bad as Megumi originally thought, only a small pile of snow falling over the threshold and onto the linoleum.
Yuuji's mouth falls into a small 'o' shape as he looks down and pushes the door closed. "Guess she was right." Megumi hides a laugh behind his hands, watching as Yuuji carefully toes around in his socks while he scoops the snow off the floor with a small towel.
By the time the floor is dry and Yuuji is beside him again, Megumi's coffee is long gone and he's fiddling with the empty mug; he briefly considered turning and grabbing the coffee behind him, but upon seeing the light brown liquid quickly decided against it.
He looks over to find Yuuji grinning at him, head tilted and eyes crinkled, "Looks like you're stuck with me."
Megumi scoffs and rolls his eyes, despite fighting to keep a straight face. He stares at the door for a moment before he flicks his gaze back to Yuuji.
"I could probably find a way to the lodge if I wanted," he teases, biting the inside of his cheek as soon as the words are out.
Yuuji gasps and playfully clutches at his heart, taking a wobbly step forward and back as if injured, eventually knocking into Megumi's and clumsily falling against him. He stumbles slightly under the unexpected weight, his laugh shaking both their bodies as he fights to keep them both upright.
"Fushi, I can't believe you would leave me here all cold and alone, and on Christmas," Yuuji sighs dramatically, tilting his head back to look up at Megumi through his eyelashes, the tousled pink strands of his hair slightly brushing Megumi's chin.
As he looks down into the brown doe eyes focused on him, it almost slips how he would struggle to leave if they weren't snowed in, how he's almost thankful to have an excuse to selfishly indulge in Yuuji's company for the day. He feels a surge of guilt through his gut as he thinks of Tsumiki's plans for the day, but it's quickly washed way at the memory of her words.
It almost feels like some kind of cruel joke. In the few weeks that he's known Yuuji he's subconsciously wished for more time with him, knowing that his time here is limited. And now by some Christmas miracle as Tsumiki would call it, his unspoken wish has come true. It's hard to be upset about it when he sees the bright smile on Yuuji's face, clearly just as excited at spending the day together.
"So, breakfast?" Yuuji's voice breaks him from his thoughts, his body rotating toward Megumi as he walks backwards to his fridge. "I think I have enough eggs for tamagoyaki, and instant miso?"
Megumi retrieves his phone and settles on a stool as Yuuji starts on their breakfast, dismissing the various texts from Gojo and Nobara to browse his email. He taps through a few of them, deleting some and responding to others. After the pathetic meeting at the Zen'in's last night he's sure to have a ton of catch up work, and despite the holiday he'll take the free time to get some of it out of the way.
The kitchen is quiet other than the occasional clink of kitchen utensils and Yuuji's soft hums. Megumi manages to get through a decent amount of his inbox before he sets the phone aside and looks up, propping his chin on his knuckles to watch Yuuji at the stove. He seems to be lost in his own little world, a slight bounce to his movements as he looks between the two pans. Megumi has another cup of coffee sitting in front of him now, but he finds himself fidgeting with the spoon more than drinking it.
The domestically of it all is a suffocating, comforting, and unsettling all at once. It's a unique type of intimacy he hasn't experienced before, one formed out of soft gazes and quiet actions instead of dark rooms and bare skin. He barely feels this level of normalcy around friends he's had for years—much less someone he met two weeks ago—but the thought brings no anxiety or dread with it, which is the scariest part.
With a slow exhale he bites his tongue and lets his eyes fall closed, a flood of memories from the past few weeks pouring in and playing behind his eyelids. He can't imagine anyone spending any time with Yuuji and walking away feeling anything other than admiration for him, like he has some kind of gravitational pull that is constantly pushing Megumi towards him.
When he looks up to see Yuuji walking over with a plate and small bowl in his hand, it confirms that he's absolutely done for.
Breakfast is a mostly silent affair, each of them sitting silently beside each other as they eat. He can tell that Yuuji truly cares if he likes what he prepared, watching and waiting for Megumi's first few bites before starting himself. He finds himself stealing glances over more than he would like to admit, blushing the few times he's met with knowing brown eyes.
It's only when Yuuji lets out a breath a little deeper and longer than the rest that Megumi breaks the silence.
"You okay?"
Yuuji's eyes meet his with a small pout, "Yeah, I just realized I don't have anything for you for Christmas."
That was the last thing he expected to come from Yuuji's mouth, all his thoughts fizzling out at the words. He laughs lightly to fill the gap in his brain function, shaking his head before responding.
"You don't need to get me anything."
He honestly can't believe that the thought even crossed Yuuji's mind, attempting to get a Christmas gift for someone you've known for such little time, but then he thinks back to his birthday a few days prior and the ginger molasses cookies that Yuuji had given him, despite only learning of his birthday the day before.
"Yeah, but I want to get you something," Yuuji says it so easy, like it's the most natural thing in the world, like there isn't another option.
"Well, I don't have anything for you either, so don't worry about it."
Yuuji nods, still looking a little sad despite the logic in Megumi's words. Megumi juts his elbow out to nudge him, shooting him a small smile of encouragement that seems to stir Yuuji out of the small slump and continue eating breakfast.
They clean up together, standing a little too close as they pass dishes between each other. Yuuji washing and Megumi drying, even though Megumi did fight to have it the other way around, telling him that he'd already done too much this morning. Words that Yuuji just laughed off as he tossed Megumi a small cloth from the counter.
Megumi asks to shower once they're done, and Yuuji happily offers him a fresh change of clothes—a clean hoodie and plain shirt, with a pair of fleece pants that have Spiderman faces on them—Megumi has to bite his lip to curb the small smile upon seeing them.
While the warm water washes over his body his mind drifts over the past few weeks and how he got himself in this situation. Not that he's complaining, only because if someone had told him three weeks ago he would be spending the majority of this business trip oogling and fawning over, and now playing house with the lodge owner's nephew he would have laughed. But now as he looks back he's not sure he would change a thing, each day leading to the holiday a special memory of its own. He thinks back to Tsumiki's wide smile and loud laughter with Yuuji at the festival a few days prior, the very animated and loud argument Yuuji and Nobara shared over whether big or small marshmallows should be used in hot chocolate—Megumi ended up being the deciding vote, and while he agreed with Nobara and Maki that small marshmallows were the way, he couldn't help but side with Yuuji and Tsumiki just to see the joy on their faces as they shared a victory dance over the other women.
He steps out of the shower when his fingers turn pruney, drying his hair and changing quickly. He stares at his reflection in the mirror, a lip pulled between his teeth while he runs his fingers along the hem of Yuuji's hoodie. It's clearly well loved, the fabric worn and ripped in some places, and he tries to tamper down the feeling that swells in his chest at being trusted with the item. As much as he wanted to laugh at the fluffy pants, once he slides them on he can understand why Yuuji would keep them—they're quite soft and warm.
Yuuji is spread out on the couch with his phone held above his head when Megumi walks out of the bathroom. At the sound of the door closing behind he perks his head up, dropping his phone onto his chest as Megumi strolls over. He starts to move his legs to make room on the couch, but Megumi doesn't wait, opting to tangle his legs with Yuuji's as he plops onto the empty cushion opposite him.
Yuuji is still smiling when he looks over, "Want to watch a movie?"
Megumi nods, barely completing the action before Yuuji is twisting in place and reaching behind him for the TV remote. Yuuji idly scrolls through the streaming app, occasionally looking over at Megumi with raised eyebrows—a silent question if he wants to watch what Yuuji is currently hovering, to which Megumi mostly shrugs at. After about 10 minutes of this back and forth Yuuji hovers on Die Hard, this time his eyes wide and hopeful when he meets Megumi's eyes.
He quirks a brow, "I thought you would try and pick something a little more…I don't know…Christmasy, like one of those super cliche movies."
"While I do love Hallmark movies," Of course he would know what they're called, "you don't seem like the type," he laughs and looks back over at the TV, motioning to it with the remote, "Plus! Die Hard is a Christmas movie."
Megumi scoffs and rolls his eyes, tugging the pillow behind him into his lap. "It is not a Christmas movie."
Yuuji gasps, a challenge in his eyes as they meet Megumi's. "Well, we can watch it and see if your mind changes."
He relents with a small laugh, hugging the pillow to his chest as the movie starts to play. They both sit quietly for the first part of the movie, occasionally sharing a glance or small laugh at a scene. The constant heat of Yuuji's leg against his grounds him to the moment, keeping his mind from wandering too far from the movie or Yuuji beside him. He turns his head enough from where it's propped on the pillow to properly look over at him, to watch him watch the movie.
He traces his profile like he hasn't already committed it to memory, starting with the messy lines of pink hair and down to the juxtaposing sharp line of his jaw. His eyes linger briefly on the small scar under his eye—smiling at the memory of Yuuji telling him he got it as a kid after he pestered his uncle's cat too much. Even at 25 Megumi can see the laugh lines slowly etching their way into the skin around his eyes and mouth, the sight inspiring Megumi to imagine an older Yuuji—pink hair turned gray and wrinkles more pronounced, still sporting a smile as bright as the day they met.
Megumi hugs the pillow closer to himself to try and stifle the shiver creeping down his spine, but the light shake of his body alerts Yuuji immediately, brown eyes snapping over in concern.
"Are you cold?"
He takes the free out—happily avoiding the real explanation and nodding slightly in Yuuji's direction as he continues to pull the pillow into him. Yuuji's eyes flick down to it quickly before he changes positions, pushing himself so he's more upright with his legs spread slightly. He holds an arm out in Megumi's direction with an even expression, but Megumi can see the light dusting of pink across his nose.
Yuuji must see the hesitation in his eyes, because any sign of nervousness disappears as he says, "I'm way warmer than a blanket," a smirk on his face as he beckons Megumi over again. "Come here."
Megumi sets the pillow behind him as he crawls over, convinced that Yuuji can hear the loud beat of his heart against his ribcage when he settles against him. He lays his back against Yuuji's torso and head against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat loud in his ear. When Yuuji's arms snake around his stomach he practically melts into the embrace, savoring Yuuji's hold around him—he was right, definitely warmer than a blanket.
He feels like he could burst when Yuuji tightens his grasp around him and drops his head into Megumi's hair, basically curling around him like a shell. He forgets about the movie then, closing his eyes and slowly exhaling as he subconsciously nuzzles into Yuuji behind him.
If he could stay in this moment forever he would, the secure and warm grip around him something he is not ready to give up, not now, or ever. He swallows over the lump of emotion in his throat and buries his nose into the hoodie at his shoulder, silently cursing himself.
This can't be normal, he internally scolds himself. He's know the guy for two weeks, probably less if he truly did the math. He knows the phrase is something like 'absence makes the heart grow fonder', but the more time he spends around Yuuji the scarier the absence becomes. What happens when he has to go back to Tokyo? It's not like he can ask Yuuji to pack up and come with him—it's too unrealistic, and he's sure to say no. Who willingly agrees to move across the country with someone they just met? But the thought of leaving still makes Megumi's heart ache.
The realization is startling, shocked that the storm of emotions in his chest finally settled enough to put to words. He sucks in a sharp breath as he movies, twisting his body around to lay his chest against Yuuji, wrapping his arms around his midsection and burying his face into the fabric of Yuuji's shirt. Yuuji is frozen beneath him as he takes the new position, his hands hovering over Megumi's sides until Megumi squeezes him, a silent plea for his touch.
Megumi shakes as Yuuji laughs beneath him, a warm hand finding its way into his hair and another resting between his shoulders.
"You okay?" Yuuji asks, finger softly combing though Megumi's hair.
"Yeah, yeah…I just—" —wanted to be closer to you, he bites his tongue, rolling on his chin slightly to peek at Yuuji through his eyelashes, "thought this might be more comfortable."
Yuuji's hand slowly works circles between his shoulder blades, the warmth from his palm prominent even through the layers of borrowed clothing. Megumi keeps his arms tight around Yuuji's middle, like he's afraid if he lets go then this dream will fade away and he'll wake up stuck in Gojo's estate.
Instead he sucks in a deep breath, nostrils filling with the clean scent of Yuuji's laundry detergent and baked goods—perks of living above the bakery. If he could bottle the scent and take it with him he would, but he's sure one of the hoodies in Yuuji's closet will do just fine. It's not like he'll miss one, right?
He slowly trails his hands along the sides of Yuuji's back, relishing in every twitch and jolt of the muscle under his fingers. When his fingers hit the hem of Yuuji's shirt sooner than expected his brain short circuits, hesitating briefly before sliding his hands underneath the fabric and immediately finding relief against Yuuji's warm skin.
Yuuji tenses up slightly beneath him, breath catching in his throat. The action scares Megumi enough to quickly yank his hands away, a stumbled apology already on the tip of his tongue when he looks up. The words die when Yuuji grabs one hand, lacing their fingers together and squeezing lightly.
"You're hands are freezing, Megumi," he says, lifting their laced fingers to ghost his lips over Megumi's knuckles. He freezes, staring up at Yuuji as his hand receives another reassuring squeeze.
The window behind him illuminates him like a halo, the sun making the pink strands look almost blonde in the early morning sun. This close Megumi can almost count the amount of freckles splattered across his nose and cheeks and the matching golden flakes in his eyes. He thought maybe by now that Yuuji would have looked away—come up with some excuse to change their position, drop his hand, anything—but his brown eyes are meeting Megumi's with an equal intensity.
Megumi's breath catches slightly as he watches Yuuji's eyes dart down, lingering just a second too long before looking back up. He can feel the blush heat his face but doesn't do anything to hide it, instead dragging his own eyes along the scar on Yuuji's lip before meeting his eyes again.
"Hey Yuuji?"
"Yeah?" the word is whispered so quietly that Megumi isn't sure he would have heard it if he was an inch further.
Megumi parts his lips to respond, but any restraint he had completely evaporates as Yuuji's eyes dilate. He moves instead of speaking, using the hand not in Yuuji's to hold himself up and smash his lips against Yuuji's.
He expects Yuuji to freeze, to pull away, to do anything but settle a hand against the back of his neck and pull him closer. He isn't sure if he wants to scream, cry, or runaway. This is how he imagines their first kiss should have been—private, intimate, passionate, something just for them—not the family mistletoe affair a few days prior.
But as Yuuji nips at his bottom lip before softly dragging his tongue over the spot to soothe it, he's somewhat thankful for the icebreaker. He unslots his fingers from Yuuji's, lifting both of them to grasp and tug at his hair. The muffled grunt Yuuji voices against his lips has him pulling away in an attempt to breathe, but Yuuji is relentless, following and crashing into Megumi's lips again.
It feels like they're frozen in time as Yuuji presses forward, arms securely wrapped around him so they're flush against each other. Their legs, bodies, and lips are slotted so perfectly together it feels like he is putty in Yuuji's hands, being perfectly crafted to fit right here.
He pulls back reluctantly, lightly panting into the shared space between. He feels intoxicated. Just from the kiss Yuuji looks absolutely wrecked, his lips red and swollen and hair utterly disheveled from Megumi's hands. His arms are still tightly wrapped around Megumi, grip unrelenting despite the end of their heated moment.
Megumi almost wants to laugh as he looks down into Yuuji's heavy and hooded eyes, the lazy smile etched across his face unwavering when Megumi pokes at his cheek.
"Are you okay?"
Strong arms squeeze around Megumi again, causing him to fall forward into Yuuji's chest. "So, so good Fushi," Yuuji sighs, digging his nose into Megumi's hair.
A strong blush settles on Megumi's face as he snakes his arms around Yuuji again, allowing himself to indulge in the secure warmth around him.
They stay melted together for a while, both so boneless and relaxed it's hard to tell where one starts and the other begins. Yuuji's hands are gentle and warm where they trace shapes over Megumi's back, the motion slowly making Megumi's eyes close. The movie credits play forgotten behind them, both too focused on the other to notice.
"Megumi?" Yuuji eventually breaks the silence, carefully dragging Megumi up his body slightly so their faces are closer, Megumi's head on his shoulder.
He blinks one eye open, his hold around Yuuji tightening slightly as he looks up, "Hm?"
"What were you gonna say earlier?"
For a second Megumi is confused, completely forgetting his words prior to his leap of faith five minutes ago. Another blush settles across his cheeks and he starts to wince. He's not sure if he's ever been this embarrassed in his life.
"I—" he darts his eyes away from Yuuji, staring at a random object on the kitchen counter to ground himself—a pear specifically. "I was gonna say I know what you can get me for Christmas."
Yuuji perks up beneath him and raises a hand to cup Megumi's cheek, slowly turning his head so their eyes meet. "Really? What is it?"
Oh fuck. He's way too excited. This is so lame.
He can feel his face burning as he opens his mouth to respond. "I was gonna tell you," he swallows a nervous lump in his throat, fighting to keep from squirming under Yuuji's sweet gaze, "that you could give me a kiss."
Yuuji's face lights up at this, a bright smile cutting across his cheeks as he cups Megumi's head with both hands. He leans down to pepper small kisses all over his face, smiling into the skin as Megumi starts to laugh in his hold.
"Awww," he says between the soft drag of his lips, "I thought you weren't one for cheesy Christmas stuff."
Megumi bites back his laughter to respond, squeezing his arms around Yuuji again. If you asked him a month ago how he felt about Christmas, he probably would have told you it's a stupid capitalist holiday that prays on children—which he still thinks—but as he looks up into the eyes of his own Christmas miracle, it's hard to deny that maybe some cliches aren't so bad.
"Maybe I'm starting to enjoy it."