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"Idiot."
A soft scoff left the pinket's lips, pouting soon after, but he earned no glance from Megumi at all. "It was an accident," he started, voice high with a whine, but the ravenet cut him short, giving a small glance through the top of their eyelashes. "Hmph."
Fushiguro took Itadori's hand into their own. After washing the hand of any possible infections, he was ready to wrap the wounds. Carefully, he placed Yuuji's hand on their thigh, unwraveling the ace wrap in the meantime. "Well, accidents can be prevented if you'd be more careful with where you put your hands during missions. And not in the mouths of curses, you know?"
"It was Sukuna! He does that stuff, y'know," he said, his frown pushing deeper into his bronzed skin.
The shikigami user let out a sigh, shaking his head. "Sure, if that's what you'll think I'll believe, Itadori. Sukuna stuck your hand out mid fight and got your hand bit. Just be glad you still have a hand to begin."
Yuuji, once again, pouted. His hand placed on the other gave a small squeeze, taking their focus from the wrap. "It was an accident! And it was Sukuna!"
"Those are two different things."
He let out a loud groan, head leaned back against the black headboard that stood proud in Fushiguro's dorm. The two sat on his bed as Megumi tried to wrap Yuuji's hand.
But Itadori would grow flustered. Megumi held his hand so gently, so carefully, as if fragile, precious, perfect. As if his hands weren't calloused and his nails weren't bitten, like his hands weren't bedazzled with blemishes and torn skin, hands with generally rough texture and a cool feel. No, Megumi made him feel sacred. For he would hold his hand above their heart so he could watch how the wrap went around his hand, making sure it was not too tight, but more importantly, tight enough. He was so gentle and precise, it almost scared Yuuji.
He was glad that they took the time to take care of him, fix him of his bruises and his hurt with their own layer of comfort and healing, warmth and meaning. It was nice.
It brought a warm rosy color to his already colored cheeks, excitement whopping inside of him. If it weren't painful, he'd get injured more often if it meant help from Megumi rather than Shoko. Nothing was wrong with her.. She just didn't give Itadori the spark that Fushiguro gave him. That was probably for the better, anyway.
"You need to relax your hand," the ravenet shaman told Itadori quietly, glancing at him once more. "You're tensing and you're bending your knuckles. Here, like this."
"Sorry," Yuuji muttered, watching the slightly taller male slip his fingers in between Itadori's. This kept his fingers apart so Megumi could easily do what it was he needed to.
But was it intentional? He could see the rising heat in Megumi's cheeks. They were paler than Itadori, certainly, so it was much easier to spot. But Itadori's typical cheeky, beaming smile was always a dead giveaway.
"It's fine. You're almost done. It's not too tight, is it? Not too loose either?"
His throat cleared, a slight panic overcoming Itadori. "Yuuji?"
He liked that. He liked it a lot. Yuuji. The way the name rolled off Megumi's tongue with such ease felt so nice to Itadori. He could tell that even Megumi felt a bit flushed after slipping up so easily. But it was okay. It wasn't like Gojo. It wasn't like Nobara. It was different. Better, somehow. "Mhm—- it's fine! Thanks for all your help, Megumi, this really does mean a lot."
He had decided to return the favor. And it was nice. The color that rose in Fushiguro's face was one he'd expect to see solely during the winters when the bitter cold would chip at his paled skin, easily making him seem paler if there was snow, but much more vibrant without. It was as if he glowed constantly. Itadori loved it.
The blue-eyed child turned to move the unused supply back into the first aid kit, but Itadori gave their intertwined hands a small squeeze. How their hands fit so perfectly together. It was much like puzzle pieces, clicking in place. There was no gap for anything more or less to enter Itadori's hands and no emotion, no strength strong enough to break Megumi's hand from his.
They were perfect. Every inch, ethereal, every square foot seemed to fit with Yuuji's. This felt like one of the few things Itadori had figured out before Megumi, but even the thought felt unreal.
"You," started the taller of the two, head hanging a bit low. "You have to be more careful. You can't allow yourself to get hurt like this every mission. Sometimes, it simply isn't necessary."
A low hum droned under Fushiguro's words, Itadori letting a small sigh. He did feel a little guilty. "I know, I know.. I promise to be a bit more careful from here on out, is that okay?" Slowly, he pressed his forehead atop the slight taller's, still sitting. It was if they hadn't a single difference in height with the exclusion of hair. "So don't you worry, Megums!"
"Don't call me that."
"Megumball?"
"Absolutely not."
"Megumdrop?"
"Get out of my room."
And that allowed a faint smile to form onto Yuuji's face. This.. This was nice. Maybe the best feeling he had felt since he had joined the school. "Thank you, Fushiguro. For real."