Chapter Text
Megumi’s head is pounding.
The thudding is so loud in his skull, he can barely hear his own thoughts. He squeezes his eyes even tighter, willing the sensation to go away.
Apparently, sheer will isn’t enough to quiet the collegiate-level drumline that was marching across his skull. Megumi swallows, the action causing a pang to shoot down his painfully dry throat.
Water. Water sounds good.
His eyes crack open slightly, and he instantly regrets the decision. Sunlight floods his vision, and the tiny drumline in his skull multiplies by three. He winces, wrinkling his nose at the pain.
Not willing to burn his retinas again, he attempts to shift his body to the other side, but is met with an anvil pinning down half of his body. He squirms under the hold, until his hand feels something warm laying across his waist.
Gaining the strength to open his eyes again, Megumi cringes away from the light. He looks down at the mysterious weight to find an arm.
A very familiar arm.
Megumi nearly breaks his neck to confirm his suspicions, and curses when he’s nose to nose with his best friend, very much asleep, and very much shirtless.
Yuuji’s cheek is pressed into the pillow, his mouth wide open as a bit of drool dribbles down the corner of his mouth. He doesn’t seem to notice Megumi shifting under him; Megumi almost thinks to check Yuuji’s pulse, until a loud snore rips through him, wafting alcohol scented morning breath straight into his face.
Megumi gags, trying to spin away, but Yuuji’s shoulder is trapping his own. A chill wracks his body as he takes in his own state of undress. Megumi is also shirtless, and suddenly, he’s hyperaware of Yuuji’s warmth against his own. He tries to sift through his memories, which are, unsurprisingly, coming up empty. Panic seizes his chest.
Last night, did we …?
A peek under the covers reveals both of them still clad in their jeans from last night. Nothing happened. Megumi managed to not fuck this up yet.
Yuuji murmurs something against the pillow, his expression soft as he nuzzles deeper. Pathetically, Megumi can’t stay mad at him, even though he definitely lost feeling on the left side of his body.
He resists the urge to brush a stray eyelash from Yuuji’s cheek. Yuuji looks so beautiful, framed in the morning light. With the way they’re positioned, it’s easy to pretend that this isn’t the aftermath of a night out, that they aren’t in a rented room in the middle of the city. It’s easy to pretend that it’s something more than that.
Megumi wonders if this is the last time he’ll see Yuuji like this.
The peaceful morning, however, is short-lived. A loud slam pulls him out of his reverie, followed by muffled voices. They’re all overlapping and loud, a jumble of words that he’s not coherent enough to parse through. Megumi frowns. Are we the last to wake up?
Another loud snore startles him, shattering his state of half-asleep delusions. “Yuuji,” Megumi says, trying to pull his friend’s arm off of him.
Yuuji hums, tightening his grip on Megumi’s waist and shifting his head so that it’s wedged in the crook of his neck.
Heat rushes to his cheeks. “Yuuji,” he tries again, louder this time.
No response. Megumi nearly shoves the idiot off of him, but settles for pinching Yuuji’s nose between his fingers.
After a second, Yuuji’s eyes fly open. He heaves a large breath through his mouth, wincing slightly as he adjusts to the light. There is no doubt he is nursing a headache similar to Megumi.
Yuuji’s eyes lazily search his surroundings, his hands shifting on bare skin. “Megumi?”
Megumi scoffs, trying to ignore the way his heart skips a beat at the rasp in his voice.
Yuuji’s eyes widen as he processes the position they’re in. He nearly flies off Megumi, something akin to panic flashing in his eyes. He hits the headboard in the process, and Megumi winces in sympathy. Ouch. “Fuck!”
“Careful,” he chides, watching as Yuuji pulls himself into a seated position. Yuuji rubs his head, his eyebrows furrowing. Megumi swallows, fighting a wave of nausea as he pulls himself up next to him.
“I’m sorry,” Yuuji breathes, cheeks ruddy, his gaze pointedly fixed on his hands. “Did I– did we...”
“No,” Megumi says, heat rising to his cheeks at the implication. He lifts the covers to reveal their jeans, belts still buckled. Hell, Yuuji was still wearing his shoes. “At least, I don’t think so.”
Yuuji nods, swallowing thickly. “Good. I mean, I don’t know what I would do if I had … you know, forced myself onto you or something.”
At this point, Megumi must be burning to the tip of his ears. He’s about to make a retort about how it could’ve easily been Megumi who forced himself onto Yuuji, especially given his track record while intoxicated, but something makes him pause. “Wait, you don’t remember what happened last night?”
“No, not at all.” Yuuji shakes his head. Horror flashes across his face. “Fuck, did I do something stupid?”
“I have no clue. I don’t remember anything either,” Megumi admits, clutching his pounding head. He was definitely no stranger to a nasty hangover. “But that makes sense for me. You’ve never blacked out before, right?”
“No, I haven’t,” Yuuji muses. A look passes over his face that Megumi can’t quite parse. “It’s kind of trippy.”
“You’re telling me,” he mumbles.
The voices in the living room are rising, followed by a loud curse. They look at each other.
“We should probably–”
“Yeah, we should–”
Megumi grabs the black shirt that’s haphazardly draped on the bedside lamp. He pulls it on, hastily fastening the buttons. Yuuji follows suit with the bright patterned shirt that’s discarded on the floor, but doesn’t bother to button it up.
The two of them look ridiculous. Yuuji’s hair is mussed up, his shirt hanging off his shoulders, a faint brown splotch staining the middle. There is some white powder smudged on his upper lip, he’s now noticing, which is pretty concerning.
Megumi frowns, passing a hand over his own mouth. He’s sure his own bedhead is even worse, and his lips feel swollen. If he didn’t know any better, it looked like they had …
He shakes away the thought. He isn’t going to let his head wander to dangerous places. Megumi pushes the door open, mentally preparing himself for the barrage of teasing from their friends, but it never comes.
Instead, he’s faced with a crime scene.
The living room is in a state of disarray. The couch cushions are strewn on the floor, some with tufts of fluff poking out. The kitchen table is predictably a mess of spilled drinks and empty bottles, and there are black stains smeared on the floor.
That isn’t what shocked him, though. He’d known they would likely make a mess, as any drunk group of twenty somethings would have done.
No, what catches his eye is the sight of Maki, still dressed in her clothes from last night, frowning at the sopping wet gun in her hands. The fish tank she’s standing next to, Megumi notices, also has a large crack running through the side.
Yeah, our Airbnb host is giving us one star.
As Megumi is desperately trying to wrap his head around the scene in front of him, he’s nearly knocked over.
Nobara rushes past him, pacing frantically. She’s pulling at her hair, ignoring the two new additions to the room. “What are we gonna do? Fuck, I need to call the venue, or wait, the caterers. And the florist! Shit, where are we going to get a lawyer? Can you get a marriage certificate if you’re in jail?”
“Jail?” Yuuji echoes next to him. Megumi’s grateful that at least Yuuji’s voice is working, because he’s still focused on the sopping wet gun in Maki’s hand.
“Babe, you’re spiraling,” Maki says, but even she doesn’t sound convinced. Nobara doesn’t seem to hear her, continuing her frantic circles around the living room.
“Good morning guys! Did you sleep well?” Megumi whips his head to the other end of the room to see Yuuta and Toge perched on the end of the couch.
Yuuta is smiling at him, but the bags under his eyes reveal his exhaustion. Toge is similarly disheveled, but at least fairing a bit better than the rest of them. His eyes are trained on the TV, which is paused on the morning news.
“Does anyone want to fill us in on what’s going on?” Megumi huffs, looking between the four of them. Nobara has now fallen onto the couch, curled up with her head in her knees.
Yuuta’s smile falters. He nudges Toge’s shoulder. “You wanna show them?”
“Salmon,” Toge frowns. He rewinds the broadcast a couple of minutes, and the sound of the TV fills the tiny room.
“Breaking news! A man was found dead last night in a bar near the downtown strip. The victim was found near the dumpsters, with three rounds to the chest. Police have not yet identified any suspects, but have identified the bullet wounds as 9mm. The victim was 25-year-old Noritoshi Kamo, a Kyoto native. City borders are on lockdown until further notice, and more information will be given as the case–”
Megumi swallows as Toge pauses the broadcast. A murder. His eyes snap to Maki, who’s staring at the gun in her hands as if it were something alien. “Don’t tell me–”
“It’s a 9mm. And three rounds are missing.”
Shit. Yuuta has moved to the other end of the couch and is now rubbing circles on Nobara’s back. She was completely silent throughout the broadcast, her head never budging from where it was tucked into her knees.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Yuuji says, running a hand through his hair. “Plenty of people have a 9mm. And it’s not like you brought the gun to the bar. Right, Maki?”
Maki purses her lips. “You know I don’t go anywhere without Goldiglock.”
“You’re fucking with me,” Megumi huffs, and Nobara buries her head deeper into her knees. He frowns. He knew that Maki could get violent when she was drunk, but this …
Yuuji shakes his head, unconvinced. “Just because you happen to have the same gun doesn’t mean you murdered the guy! C’mon, guys, let’s not freak out over nothing, it’s probably just a coincidence.”
Though Megumi appreciates Yuuji’s optimism, he wants to point out that even if Maki didn’t kill that guy, that was still 3 bullets unaccounted for, but he’s stopped by the grimace on Yuuta’s face.
“Toge, show him.”
“Show me what?”
Toge frowns, but plays the news again. The report is narrating something or other about increased security protocols, but Megumi is more focused on the footage of the EMTs rolling the body out on the stretcher. More importantly, what the dead guy is wearing.
It was a graphic t-shirt, with pictures of some American rapper plastered on the front. On the top, “Megan Thee Stallion” was written in hot pink. Toge paused the screen.
Yuuji turns deathly pale. “That’s-that’s my–”
They all look at each other, the silence deafening. The dead man is wearing Yuuji’s shirt.
“Still think it’s a coincidence?” Maki laughs, but the sound is devoid of humor.
Megumi slumps onto the couch.
What the fuck happened last night?
“What’s taking them so long?” Panda muttered under his breath.
Megumi shrugged, resting his head on his hand. He had no idea what Yuuji and Nobara were doing in the other room, but it was getting late. He rapped his fingers against the counter, eyes flitting towards the clock.
Maki snorted, uncapping the bottles on the small kitchen island. “You know what they say: the bride gets whatever she wants. It’s her day.”
Panda frowned, nursing his cup of coffee. It was already late into the night, but since he was the designated driver, Megumi could understand the need for the extra caffeine. “Wouldn’t you also be the bride? Since you’re marrying her?”
“That’s not how it works,” Maki said, grinning as she opened the top of a stubborn bottle. “I would rather stab myself in the eye than have a bachelorette party, but Nobara wants one. And I love Nobara, and want to see her happy, so I am attending her bachelorette party. It’s simple.”
“This is the fifth time you’ve explained it, and I still don’t get it,” Panda muttered.
“I think it makes perfect sense!” Yuuta chimed in from across the counter. “And it’s been so long since we’ve all been together.”
That was true. Ever since they’d graduated and moved away, it became harder and harder to see each other. With Maki stationed in the military, it was impossible to pin her down and Nobara down. Yuuta and Toge had stayed near their college, but Megumi and Yuuji had moved closer to the outskirts of the city. Megumi, because that’s where his vet school was, and Yuuji because … well, because they’d kind of always stuck together. With his vet school schedule and Yuuji’s hours at the hospital, finding time to do anything fun at all was a struggle.
Even though Megumi was rarely the type to go out, he still looked back on those crazy nights in college fondly. He didn't enjoy drinking, usually opting to be the sober one for the night, but this time Nobara had goaded him into indulging, because it was ‘her last night on the town’. He had a feeling that was an exaggeration (she was getting married, not joining a monastery), but acquiesced nonetheless.
“I’m excited to see drunk Megumi again,” Maki said, a mischievous glint in her eye. “I’m sure Yuuji’s looking forward to it, too.”
Megumi’s cheeks burned. “Shut up.”
Part of the reason he didn’t drink often was how embarrassing he got. Or more specifically, how unintentionally … suggestive he became. Three shots in, and Megumi would start to sound like a 13-year-old boy with unfettered internet access. And worse, it was usually directed toward his best friend. Drunk-Megumi was not well acquainted with the concept of shame, and, much to sober-Megumi’s dismay, not-so-subtly threw himself at his crush. Or at least, that’s what he’s been told. His alcohol tolerance … wasn’t the best.
“I don’t need to hear that from you, Maki-san,” Megumi quipped. “At least I don’t end up fighting the bouncer by the end of the night.”
Maki slammed a bottle on the counter, sending him a glare. “That was one time. And he deserved it.”
“Well, you’re right, the bouncer was only that one time,” Yuuta said. “But there was also the time with the bartender, then the guy by the jukebox, the girl with the eyepatch–”
“What are you trying to imply, Yuuta?”
“Just saying that you tend to get a little … violent, when you’re drunk. That’s all.” He shrugged, pointedly ignoring Maki’s death glare.
“What? So throwing a punch or two is somehow worse than you running off to god knows where in the middle of the night when you’re drunk? Or Megumi eye-fucking Yuuji the whole damn time?” Maki pointed between the two of them. Yuuta shrugged sheepishly, while Panda and Toge watched in amusement.
Megumi bristles, his cheeks burning. “I do not ‘eye-fuck’ Yuuji–”
Before he could finish his sentence, the bedroom door slammed open. Music filled the living room, the speakers blasting the sound of some American rapper Megumi couldn’t name singing something about it being ‘7 o’clock on a Friday’.
Yuuji was standing in the doorway, looking absolutely ridiculous. A bright pink boa was wrapped around his neck, matching the Megan Thee Stallion graphic t-shirt he had on, paired with some baggy jeans.
“What the hell is he wearing?” Maki muttered, walking over from the island to stand with the rest of them. Yuuta shrugged, while Megumi just sighed.
Yuuji flipped his boa around his neck and cleared his throat. “Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the woman of the night, Kugisaki Nobara!”
The music started blasting even louder as Kugisaki made her way out. She was wearing a black dress with pink roses embroidered on the sides, a silver tiara, and a bright white sash that read ‘Bride-to-Be’. The living room erupted in cheers as she made her way to the counter. Maki even gave her a wolf whistle.
Nobara beelined for the shot glasses, grabbing a handle of vodka. “Who’s taking the first shot with me?”
The room erupted into cheers again, filling up the pink heart-shaped novelty cups, though Megumi’s cheer was half-hearted. He stared at the offending shot glass sitting in front of him, dread pooling in his stomach. He already wasn’t much for alcohol, but shots were the worst of all.
Nobara unfortunately sniffed out his apprehension like a bloodhound. “You, Fushiguro Megumi, are getting drunk tonight.”
Megumi groaned. “And I will. With my mixed drink.”
“Nope,” she said, already filling the glass with vodka. “I need you to profess your love for Yuuji before the end of the night.”
“Nobara–” Megumi seethed, eyes darting over to where Yuuji and Maki were armwrestling in the corner.
“Don’t be like that. He obviously didn’t hear me. And it doesn’t matter, because you’re going to tell him anyway, because you’re gonna get wasted and tell him all sorts of dirty–”
“I’ll take the damn shot,” Megumi barked, face already warm without the assistance of alcohol.
Nobara cheered, jumping onto a chair to gather everyone’s attention. “Thank you guys all for coming today, seriously. Now bottoms up!”
Megumi grimaced as the alcohol burned down his throat. The vodka was just as shitty as he remembered it.
This was going to be a long night.
The room is silent.
Megumi’s head rests in his hands as he processes what just happened. His head is still pounding incessantly, and he has the urge to bash it against a wall.
Maki sets down the gun, making her way over to take Yuuta’s place in rubbing circles on her fiancée’s back. Nobara’s head is still tucked into her knees, hair falling over her face. There is a lone flower petal tangled in the back of her hair, and Maki plucks it off.
Yuuji is drumming his fingers on the couch, eyes darting around the room. The sound is driving Megumi insane, and he’s tempted to cut off his fingers.
Toge and Yuuta are having a wordless conversation, eyes darting to Nobara’s curled-up form.
Suddenly, Nobara bolts upright, startling Maki.
Five sets of eyes are trained on her.
“Oh my god,” she says, eyes wide. “We have the rehearsal dinner tonight.”
Yuuji scoffs. “What use is the rehearsal dinner if Maki’s in jail?”
Maki holds her hands up, looking incredulously around the room. “I didn’t kill that guy! Do you really think I would kill a guy?”
They all stare at her.
Megumi coughs into his hand. “It’s not off the table.”
“Hey!”
“Ok, guys, let’s not freak out,” Yuuta says, a nervous smile on his face. “Like Yuuji said, we don’t know if anyone killed anyone.”
“Okaka,” Toge affirms. Or at least, Megumi thinks that's an affirmation. He looks around the room, watching each of his friends in various states of disarray.
Wait.
One, two, three, four, five, six …
“Where’s Panda?”
They all looked at each other. Maki blinks, while Yuuta and Toge both pale.
Nobara is tapping away at her phone, in her own world. “Oh my god, they aren’t getting back to me, what if we don’t get a refund on the dinner?”
“Hey, it’s ok,” Yuuji says, walking over to rest a hand on her shoulder. “We can figure that out later, we need to find Panda first, just relax– “
Nobara’s fingers still.
“Relax?” she says, whipping her head to look at Yuuji. “Relax? This is my wedding, goddamn it, I can’t just relax!”
“Nobara–” Megumi tries, but she doesn’t even spare him a glance.
“Ugh!” she yells, storming into the room. The door closes with a slam.
“What got into her?” Yuuji mutters.
Maki squirms, almost imperceptibly.
“Panda isn’t responding, and his location isn’t loading either,” Yuuta says, tucking his phone into his pocket. His gaze flits to the bedroom door. “Let’s divide and conquer. Megumi, Yuuji, Toge, and I can head to the bar to figure out where Panda is.”
Megumi nods, standing up to leave, but Maki pushes him back onto the couch. “No. I’ll go. Megumi, you can stay here.”
“What? How the hell am I supposed to comfort her?”
Maki shrugs, already putting on her shoes. “I don’t fucking know, figure it out.”
Megumi tries to protest further that Nobara’s not his fiancée, and that he barely knows how to console Nobara when he’s not hungover, but Maki is already halfway out the door, dragging Yuuji with her. Yuuji shoots him an apologetic look, mouthing a quick ‘Sorry!’ before she pulls him even tighter.
Yuuta shoots him a weak smile, grabbing his wallet and keys. “Let us know if you need anything, Megumi.”
And then they’re gone.
Megumi stares at the door. It’s dead silent, until he hears a crash coming from the bedroom. Several crashing sounds, accompanied by the sound of shattering glass, all in succession. His head falls into his hands.
What the hell happened last night?