Work Text:
“You’re sure there are no bedbugs, right?”
“Bedbugs are the least of our concern, Itadori.”
“But it’s so itchy.”
“It’s not. You’re just fidgety.”
Yuuji turns in his bed for the umpteenth time, faces Megumi whose back is turned towards him. Has it always been this impossible to sleep? He’s practically suffocating under these bedsheets, then somehow freezing as soon as he pulls them off, both so impossibly sweaty and cold at the same time. He sits up, punches at the paper-thin pillows like they’re to blame for his insomnia, then plops back down with a huff. “You can’t sleep either.”
Megumi clicks his tongue. “Maybe because you won’t stop talking. Just shut up and get some rest.”
Rest has been a very distant, unattainable thing for Yuuji as of late, and for all of his comrades, really. He can’t quite recall the last time he’s gotten a full nights sleep, even before Shibuya, and he’s certain he won’t be getting it here, in this abandoned motel where Yuuji is pretty sure he can spot some mold growing on the ceiling and can smell the faintest funk of mildew. They really shouldn’t be breathing in this stuff, Yuuji thinks, what with all they have to face after this. It starts a train of thought that has him twisting and turning in his creaky twin sized bed yet again, itching at his skin to give his hands something to do, the scratchy sheets rubbing against him like sand paper. Gone are the days where Yuuji was able to sleep anywhere, under any circumstances. He huffs a humorless laugh to himself remembering having actually fallen asleep standing up once, waiting for a bus in Sendai, full on snoring. What a different life that had been.
His best friend is only a meter away on the bed next to him, still as a statue, but just as restless. It was childish of them to think they’d be able to get some actual rest, really. Still, he wants Megumi to be able to sleep at the very least, so he does shut up, keeps his questions and thoughts to himself, until Megumi eventually breaks the silence amid Yuuji’s incessant twisting and turning: “Still no luck?”
Yuuji sighs heavily, “Nope.”
“Me neither.” Megumi grumbles, yawning.
He turns, yet again, and faces Megumi’s bed, finds him to be looking right back this time. He knows both of them are sporting some pretty serious eye bags right now, have been for many days. Kids aren’t meant to look this tired, surely. Still, Yuuji looks at Megumi in quiet awe. What a pretty sight, Yuuji thinks, even in this dim light, with his stubborn hair already spiking up even though it’s still a bit damp from his shower, and that small frown on his face that makes him look grouchy, though Yuuji knows he’s far from it.
If Yuuji’s being honest with himself here, he had hoped the room would have one bed, but they stayed in the first room they had walked into, and it just so happened to be this one. He had actually groaned in annoyance at the sight of the two separate beds and got a pretty quizzical look from Megumi, to which Yuuji just awkwardly coughed to play it cool. What was he meant to do, object to this perfectly fine room under the not-so-false pretense that they couldn’t cuddle in it? Yuuji’s being ridiculous for even wanting that, he thinks. They’re just friends, best friends, who have, on occasion, shared a bed once or twice back at Jujutsu Tech. Megumi knows of Yuuji’s restlessness and has never turned him away when he comes knocking on Megumi’s door with tired eyes and a slightly desperate look that read i need you. It’s what friends are for, if anything.
Yuuji is pretty new at this whole having friends thing, so he’s no expert here, but isn’t it, like, normal to want to cuddle with them? Maybe not to the degree of desperation that Yuuji feels, though that probably has more to do with his own feelings for Megumi than anything else, but still. It would be nice to have someone close, to have someone to hold. They’ve never properly cuddled but have come close with some head-on-the-shoulder-action and it’s proved to be the surest way for Yuuji to sleep. It’s just that, he doesn’t want to have to ask Megumi for that, not right now, when Megumi’s sure to be wrangling his own demons to give in to Yuuji’s every want. Still, it’s stupid. Stupid that Megumi is so close yet so far and all Yuuji wants to do is reach out, hold or touch, but tells himself that he shouldn’t, that he can’t. So he just looks instead, keeps his eyes fixed on Megumi, and it’s annoying him that he can’t really count his eyelashes from this distance, can’t smell his skin or hear his every breath. He doesn’t think too deeply about why he wants to do that.
Yuuji’s frustrations land him off the bed and on his feet, making his way towards the air-conditioner switch to mess with it, see if making the room feel colder will stop him from feeling like he’s suffocating. Megumi’s eyes follow him as he goes, “Where are you going?”
Yuuji mumbles something inaudible as a response as he messes with the settings, and starts hearing Megumi shuffling out of his own bed, and what he thinks is the sliding of furniture on carpet, and is surprised to turn around and see Megumi pushing his bed next to Yuuji’s, joining them together. With his already wide eyes widening open even more, Yuuji nervously scratches at the back of his neck, “Why are you—“
“You’ll sleep better this way, right?” Megumi says back without looking at Yuuji, “And the beds are too small anyway. This will be more comfortable for us both.” He continues, shrugging, though Yuuji is pretty sure he can see him flushing just a bit.
Yuuji realizes he hasn’t said anything back, settles on just a nod, because for once in maybe his entire life he’s not quite sure what to say. Should he feel embarrassed that Megumi knows just how badly Yuuji wants him close, is even giving into it for Yuuji’s sake? He doesn’t have much of an opportunity to do so because Megumi’s already sitting up on his side of the bed. “Well, c’mon.”
Yuuji walks slowly over to his side of the bed where his sheets are all jumbled up, carefully gets back into them. Megumi’s already made himself comfortable over on his side, lying on his back now with his head facing the ceiling. Weirdly enough, the sheets don’t scratch at Yuuji’s skin at all anymore. For all he knows, they’ve miraculously transformed into the finest silk.
Because he’s Yuuji, he goes through about five sleeping positions and fixes his pillows three times before finally settling on his side, his arm pillowing his head as he faces Megumi, sees his chest rise and fall with every breath he takes. It’s a real comfort, seeing him like this, where nothing could hurt him. Yuuji sees Megumi lick his lips, wrinkle his nose and gulp before he turns to his side, facing Yuuji. “You should really get some sleep.” Megumi whispers, hand falling near Yuuji’s on the bed.
“You too.” Yuuji mumbles back, poking Megumi’s nose.
With Megumi’s face being this close to his, Yuuji fleetingly wonders if his new scar is difficult to look at. He hasn’t really given his appearance much thought as of late, barely even knowing what he looks like anymore. His hair might be overgrown, stubble might be growing in, he wouldn’t know, and he doesn’t think a mirror could solve that for him either. It’s not like he can really stomach the sight of himself right now anyway.
Almost as if Megumi had read his mind, he brings his slender, cold fingers close to Yuuji’s face, leaves them hovering over where his face had been cut. Like he was acting on an impulse, Megumi doesn’t hesitate and lets those fingers trace over Yuuji’s skin, feels at the healed scar tissue. Yuuji’s breath hitches at the contact, mouth suddenly somehow both wet and dry at the same time and, in almost comedic contrast to how fidgety he had been earlier, he’s suddenly too afraid to move, like the slightest motion would get Megumi to stop. They don’t break eye contact for a single moment, eyes locked as Megumi goes over the scar like he’s following a road line on a map. Yuuji wonders where that would guide him. He hopes it’s somewhere safe, at the very least.
Megumi’s hand stops for a moment, stays still on Yuuji’s face, and it gets Yuuji all shy and flustered, the sudden pause. He feels the need to hide his face, a bit self-conscious and too open as he nuzzles his head into his own arm. “Is it that bad?”
Megumi removes his hand completely from Yuuji’s face for a second, expression unreadable before he frowns slightly, and Yuuji clicks his tongue and pouts before he continues, “The scar, I mean.”
Megumi’s hand stays suspended in the air before he brings it back down, settles it on Yuuji’s face, now on his cheek rather than near the scar. He hums, a soft thing, before he mumbles out, “It makes you look like a warrior,” he starts rubbing circles on Yuuji’s temple, “stoic.”
Yuuji certainly doesn’t feel like one, and the uncertainty must show on his face, because Megumi gives him a knowing look, like he’s really trying to stress his point. “You’re a sorcerer, Itadori. It’s fitting for you to look the part.”
Yuuji breathes out a somber laugh. “Oh yeah?”
Megumi nods. “Mhm. Now everyone will know who they’re really up against when they see you. Not me, though,” Megumi shifts just the tiniest bit closer, but by his standards, it might as well mean that he’s crossed an ocean, and he let’s that same hand go down Yuuji’s face, resting it on his neck where Yuuji can feel his own pulse point beating against it. “I’ll always see you as the guy who could never beat me at Mario Kart.”
Yuuji flicks Megumi’s forehead as he laughs, a genuine one this time that he hasn’t let out in a while. “You’ve had a lot more practice than me!”
“Excuses, excuses.” Megumi says with a half smile on his face.
“The Switch controllers are too small for my hands,” Yuuji says, faces the palm of his hand in front of Megumi’s face, maybe as an invitation if Megumi wants to read it as one.
Megumi huffs out a quiet laugh, puts his own hand on Yuuji’s to compare it’s size. It’s not a huge difference, really, the only thing being that Megumi’s fingers are just that slightly bonier.
Megumi lets a pfft out. “Even more excuses.”
Megumi would be the first to say he’s not a people person, has made one too many self-deprecating jokes about not really liking or understanding people, but then how come he’s so good at it with Yuuji? For someone who’s supposedly terrible with people like he always lets on, Megumi sure does always know the right thing to say. Even when Yuuji was racked with a guilt so immense he wasn’t sure it was going to survive in his body, or when Yuuji was sure he had doomed everybody that he loved, there Megumi was right by side, had known exactly what to say to Yuuji if only to get him to stand on his own two feet again. Yuuji didn’t even think he’d have it in him to smile, didn’t think he was deserving of that, and it was really only his best friend, his Megumi, that had made him think otherwise. It’s why he’s able to smile right now.
The closeness they’re in right now is not unfamiliar to either of them, which is why Yuuji feels comfortable enough to take that same hand of Megumi’s that he was touching, extend it out so that Yuuji could go under it, fit himself right on Megumi’s chest. Maybe it takes Megumi by surprise, but Yuuji doesn’t let himself see it, decides to close his eyes instead. It takes him a few seconds, but Megumi eventually wraps that arm around Yuuji’s back, rests his hand on Yuuji’s arm, starts tracing the faintest of circles. Oh, the ways in which he knows how to comfort Yuuji, how to soothe his soul. Does he even know the true extent of how much every little touch tugs at Yuuji’s heartstrings?
Yuuji puts an arm over Megumi’s torso, hugs at his waist to bring him closer, cozying up to him with ease. There’s really no room for any awkwardness here, at least not to Yuuji. He wants to be held, and Megumi knows that. God, he can’t remember the last time he was held like this. Was it in his infancy, is that why he’s having such a hard time placing it? Did there ever really exist a time where he was embraced and comforted in this way? He’d like to believe so, though he can’t remember any memories of that happening. He curls further into Megumi with that thought in mind, feels Megumi’s hand slowly go down his back. Yuuji hooks a leg over Megumi’s, wanting to tangle up and into him even more.
Growing up without having this had been okay, Yuuji told himself. Maybe there were one too many nights where he would’ve slept a lot faster, or wounds that would’ve healed a lot quicker had someone held him close, told him it would all be okay. He didn’t think it a necessity, though. Some people had it much worse. But like most feelings left unattended, they brew and manifest into things much bigger than Yuuji’s heart could hold. He nuzzles his head into Megumi’s neck, hugs him a little tighter. Christ, it had been so lonely back then. Sometimes he wants to hold or be held so badly he fears that want shows like an open wound on his body.
“This is okay, right?” Yuuji suddenly asks, mumbling it into Megumi’s skin. It’s a scary thing for him to do, but he lifts his head up slightly so that he can see Megumi. He can just barely see Megumi’s green eyes looking down at him, sleepy but kind, always so kind whenever they’re looking at Yuuji.
Megumi’s hand on Yuuji’s back stills, then he brings it to the back of Yuuji’s head, carding his fingers through Yuuji’s hair. “It’s okay.”
The relief Megumi’s words bring him stays and extends past Yuuji’s original question. It’s okay. He really does feel okay, for once. Close to Megumi and in his embrace, when he looks at him like that and plays with his hair just so, everything feels more than okay. What is that all-consuming guilt that had plagued Yuuji, or that festering itchy loneliness next to Megumi? He hears every breath Megumi takes and they all sound like i’m here. He feels every circle Megumi traces into his skin and they all read like and i’ll never leave.
Yuuji can only hope that Megumi feels the same sense of safety and security that he gives him, would give it to Megumi tenfold if he asks. He already tries to, anyway. Maybe it should scare Yuuji just how fast Megumi’s comforting gestures work on him, because the restlessness that had been practically possessing him mere minutes ago is suddenly an old stranger. It’s ironic, because Megumi had done all of this to get Yuuji to sleep better, but now Yuuji doesn’t want to sleep anymore, wants to stay up just to have this for longer, before it gets ripped or swept right out from under him by whatever tomorrow will bring.
“I wish we could just stay here,” Yuuji says, and means it with his whole body. It’s a selfish thought, really, considering what’s waiting for them after this, and everyone they have to save. Still, Yuuji means it.
To Yuuji’s surprise, Megumi agrees in the quietest whisper, “Yeah, me too.”
This peace, this quiet—Yuuji knows he would only like to have it if it’s Megumi he’s having it with. It’s not a new realization, but in this moment where they are so close that they are practically one, where Yuuji can smell Megumi and hear only his whispers and breaths and not Sukuna’s taunts and threats in his head, it hits him with full clarity. He would never have this with anyone else, nor would he ever want to.
It’s only a few more hours before this peace will leave them, where they will have to continue on and find Hakari, but Yuuji still wants to protect it, this version of them that no one can touch or harm. Being so close to Megumi’s neck, he places the faintest of kisses there, so quick he’s not sure Megumi even felt it. His hand in Yuuji’s hair freezes, though, so he must’ve. Shit.
“Sorry,” Yuuji mumbles without thinking, suddenly overcome with worry that he shattered this peace that they had created. Fuck, him and his goddamn feelings. If only they weren’t so intense that they practically seeped out of his pores.
Megumi clears his throat, and then with a hoarse voice lets out, “It’s—It’s cool.”
Okay, cool. It’s cool. Yuuji can work with cool. It’s cool, dude. Yeah, definitely.
Megumi’s hand continues moving in Yuuji’s hair again, and then he mumbles, “It was nice.”
Oh. Nice. It was nice. Megumi thought it was nice, so, he wouldn’t mind if Yuuji, perhaps, did that again? Yuuji doesn’t want to push his luck, though. He should be perfectly content with just having this. Why would he need more? Megumi’s already given in to Yuuji’s every want and then some, fuck, he probably just said it was nice to make Yuuji feel better. If only Megumi knew of all the other things Yuuji wants. He’d probably get spooked. Yuuji freezes, silently hopes that he could rewind back thirty seconds. Maybe he really doesn’t know how to have friends.
Megumi must have taken notice to how still Yuuji has gone around him, barely moving a muscle or breathing, and he shifts slightly away from Yuuji, which practically feels like he’s been ripped away. So much for protecting this version of them. Yuuji jumped the gun fantasizing about having it for a lifetime but could barely keep it for all of ten minutes. He wants to apologize again, take it back and restart the moment, wants to be back in Megumi’s arms and swears that he will actually fall asleep this time instead of being so greedy and stupid, but then Megumi places a hand under Yuuji’s chin, lifts his head up to meet his eyes.
“You look like you’re about to throw up.” Megumi says, furrowing his eyebrows together in a frown.
Yuuji looks exactly how he feels, then. He does always wear his heart on his sleeve.
“I really am sorry.” Yuuji says, feeling a bit icky. He just had to ruin such a perfectly pleasant moment.
Megumi grimaces, though it’s not in any disgust. He just looks really confused.
“What are you apologizing for? I said it was nice.” He sits up a bit now, lifting his body up with his elbow. Yuuji still feels paralyzed, thinks maybe if he doesn’t move then the whole moment will pass him.
“Yeah, but—you don’t have to say that for my sake, y’know.” Yuuji mumbles, unable to meet Megumi’s eyes as he speaks. Megumi breathes out something like a laugh, which gets Yuuji to look up at him. There’s that look on his face like he’s processing information, concentrated and focused, but there’s no intensity there, if anything, he looks a bit amused.
With a smile, Megumi says, “Sit up.”
Yuuji does. He’ll really do just about anything Megumi tells him to without question.
It takes Yuuji a few seconds, and Megumi lets him take his time, but eventually Yuuji is able to look at Megumi, and is immediately met with gentle, kind eyes. When has he not?
“I wasn’t saying that for your sake.” Megumi says slowly, makes a face like he doesn’t understand why Yuuji would ever think that.
“No?” Yuuji says, voice quiet and barely there. Yuuji’s sleep deprivation must be catching up to him now because he thinks he can see Megumi’s eyes flickering over his lips. That’s highly unlikely, though. Yuuji’s probably just, like, really tired and seeing things.
Megumi shakes his head, then lets out that same soundless laugh. “You have to know by now, Itadori. You just have to.”
Yuuji gulps, darts his eyes over Megumi’s face. Maybe Megumi’s feeling a bit nervous too, but he’s hardly showing it, eyes unwavering and posture steady. Yuuji could take a guess and most likely be right about what Megumi is referring to, but he still asks, “Know what?”
Yuuji wasn’t really focusing on just how close they had gotten, but is fully aware of it now that Megumi has inched just a bit forward and Yuuji can feel his breath on his skin, can sense the heat thats radiating off of him. With him being so close now, Yuuji can see that muted flush on his cheeks and the very tip of his ears, can notice he’s blinking a bit too fast. Yuuji wonders if his heart is beating just as fast as his own too.
Megumi’s voice is barely there when he whispers, so close to Yuuji’s lips that Yuuji wonders if it’s his own lips that are speaking the words, “You just have to know,” and then closes that small gap between them with a kiss, soft and delicate. Yuuji hadn’t expected it in the slightest, was too busy anxiously biting the inside of his own cheeks and didn’t even think to close his eyes the same way Megumi did, and before he could even kiss back, Megumi has already pulled away, exhaling sharply from his nose. God. Yuuji’s first kiss and he might as well have entirely missed it.
Megumi’s blinking nervously at him with his mouth agape and the look on his face reads like somebody who had just gotten rejected, hurt and regretful. Yuuji is quick to try and mend this, though, because this cannot be how this ends. Yuuji’s response comes to him instinctively, puts a hand on Megumi’s jaw and brings their lips together again, the action a bit clanky and so new but he thinks they’re both too tired and slightly delirious to care about it being perfect. Megumi gasps, but melts into Yuuji and kisses him back with haste. Megumi’s lips, his skin, fuck, even his hair that Yuuji can feel against his fingers now are all so soft, so inviting and just how Yuuji had imagined them being. Yuuji pulls away for just a second to meet Megumi’s glassy eyes that are so easy to look into now, but Megumi is already going back to kiss him again, a bit deeper this time, hands on Yuuji’s neck. It’s enough to make Yuuji the happiest man alive, this. Just having this.
Yuuji can’t help the giggles when they part again and rest their foreheads together, can’t think of a better moment to be in.
“Was that—that was okay, right?” Yuuji asks, a genuine question even though he’s laughing while asking it.
Megumi laughs back, hides his face a bit and then punches Yuuji’s arm. “Yes, idiot. That was okay.”
Yuuji lifts Megumi’s head slightly, kisses his cheek. It’s takes Megumi a bit by surprise which is funny because they, like, just properly kissed, and he can see Megumi going all red again, a bit shy and timid. He’s so cute. Yuuji kisses his nose, then his forehead, small but affectionate before he kisses his lips again, a real hunger for it now that he’s had it. Yuuji places a gentle hand behind Megumi’s head, gets him on his back now with Yuuji hovering over him, every kiss becoming easier than the next, both of them losing that shyness with each one. Yuuji gets back to where he had planted that very first kiss on Megumi’s neck, nuzzles his head there with a chuckle then kisses that spot again, and again.
“Don’t think I could ever fall asleep now.” Yuuji says, voice low but still giddy and Megumi hums at him, pulls him up to kiss him again.
They do eventually fall asleep though, with Yuuji’s head buried in Megumi’s neck, Megumi’s arms all over Yuuji’s back and their legs all tangled up, and it’s really the best sleep Yuuji’s had in too long, or maybe ever. He wakes up knowing he’s dreamt of something or other, all of it irrelevant and immediately escaping him when he sees Megumi’s face right there next to his, and he kisses it like he just did hours prior, swears he will do it for as long as Megumi will have him. Yuuji holds him close, careful not to wake him, and prays a silent prayer to anything, anyone who might be listening, to let Yuuji just have this for as long as he lives.
When Megumi is stirring awake, eyes slowly blinking open, and Yuuji can see them, green and beautifully glinting, he knows he will only be satisfied living if he gets to have them looking right back at him.