Archive of Our Own

“Slow down, Yuuji jesus.” He hears as he takes a long drag. Smoke fills his lungs as he breathes in deeply. 

Yuuji leans his head away, tilting upwards at the ceiling as he blows out the smoke, a cascade of white filling the dark room and hopefully not setting off the smoke alarm. 

“If that shit canoos I’m gonna beat your ass,” Nobara warns. 

Yuuji giggles, feeling his head lighten and his eyes grow heavy. “It’s not even your weed, Nobara.” He teases. “I know Maki rolls all of your joints herself.” 

Maki’s voice picks up from over by the kitchen, “He’s got you there Bara.” She says boredly, the sounds of a drink pouring buffer her voice. 

Nobara rolls her eyes and snatches the paper back from him. “Whatever, doesn’t mean I want to ruin a perfectly fine j.” She says, taking a hit and pointedly breathing in slower than Yuuji had. 

Yuuji sinks further into the couch cushions, feeling strangely boneless. The music playing from someone's speaker sounds farther away than it should. His limbs are warm and heavy, but his head feels light enough to float off his shoulders. “Damn,” he mutters. “This is good shit.” 

“That's because you haven't smoked in, like, three months.”  She scoffs. She’s slow to turn her head up, smoke billowing through her lips as she talks. 

The smoke gets in Yuuji’s eyes, making him squint harshly as he laughs through the pain. “Not true.” He remarks. “I smoked a ton at Yuuta’s party a few weeks ago, remember?” 

Nobara makes a disgusted face. “Oh, how could I forget?” She drawls. “I had to put up with you and Megumi’s goo-goo eyes all night. You two get disgusting when you’re high.” 

Yuuji coughs, only partially due to the smoke filling the room. “We do not, shut up.” He wines, reaching for the joint again. He’s already feeling it, but at the mention of Megumi’s name, he suddenly needs something to busy himself with. Smoking an absurd amount of weed seems fitting. 

Nobara passes it, “Please, Yuuji. You can barely keep your crush to yourself sober, when you’re high you practically throw yourself at him. And guess who has to sit and put up with it?” She asks, gesturing at herself and Maki, who walks in balancing two cans of beer and a glass of wine in her hands. She passes one of the beers to Yuuji and the wine to Nobara before sitting down and throwing an arm behind the couch behind Nobara’s head. 

Yuuji places the paper between his lips so he can crack open the beer can. “If I have to put up with you two’s PDA, you can deal with me being hopeless with Megumi.” He mumbles around the paper, taking it from his mouth to blow a puff of air out. 

Maki hums, “I wouldn’t call it hopeless, Megumi’s just as messy as you, if not more.” She comments.

Yuuji groans, “Seriously,” he says. “I can’t think about him right now,” he says, rubbing his face.

Nobara barks a laugh, “That’s pretty impossible for you, ya’know.” 

Yuuji glares at her. “You’re not helping,” he says, taking a hit of the joint still in his hands. 

Nobara takes a long, slow sip of her wine. “Well, maybe I could be some help to you if you actually listened to me for once–” 

Yuuji blows the smoke right in her face, making her cough and wave his face away. Maki laughs, reaching for the spliff as she pats her girlfriend on the back.

Yuuji leans back into the couch, pouting deeply as Nobara recovers. Despite his efforts to push her comments to the back of his head, they settled. Through all his efforts to pretend his feelings for Megumi were manageable, a day like today happens, and he’s back where he started. 

He was supposed to see him today. They planned to get lunch and then go to Yuuji’s for a movie night. It wasn’t specified as a date, but Yuuji’s heart felt heavy over the fact that they reserved time out of each other's week for each other anyway. 

Yuuji had left class on that Friday afternoon, heart full and emotions high, only to check his notifications to see a text from Megumi saying he had to cancel. 

Megs<3 

3:13 PM 

Hey, can’t make it to lunch. 

Now, normally this wouldn’t have set Yuuji off. Megumi was vague in his texts all the time, Yuuji assumed he had gotten caught up in something. A group project, a family obligation, one of the hundred responsibilities Megumi somehow collected without meaning to. It’s the thing he sees a few hours later on Instagram that makes his chest ache. 

He had been in bed, having just gotten home and quickly showered, when he was scrolling on his social media to see Megumi on someone's story. Hana’s story, to be specific. 

In the photo, he was driving, looking tired and moody as he gripped the wheel, unaware of the photo being taken. 

Under the photo in swirly text read: don’t know what I’d do without you <3 

Yuuji sat up so fast he got whiplash, refreshing the video over and over again. Scanning the photo of Megumi for any hint of what he was feeling in that moment. Not that there was much to see. Megumi looked the same as always. Tired and focused. One hand on the wheel. The late afternoon sun cast across his face.

But that didn’t stop Yuuji from staring, and it definitely didn’t stop him from replaying it at least ten times. His stomach twisted. 

Don’t know what I’d do without you. 

What the hell was that supposed to mean? He tried in vain to rationalize. Maybe it didn’t mean anything, maybe she was joking and posted things like that all the time. 

He clicked through the rest of her story, only to find various artsy photos and quotes from authors Yuuji didn’t know. No more of Megumi. Or anything that could give clues to what the hell happened where she’d end up in his car on a day that Yuuji and Megumi reserved for each other. 

His thumb hovered over Megumi's contact. He could just ask. Send a casual hey, how’s it going text that wouldn’t be read as him being as possessive as he felt in that moment. But he didn’t send anything. He tossed his phone onto the mattress beside him, then, pitifully, reached for it again. 

The story was still there. Words in that girlish font still spelled out the same words, and Megumi still looked undeniably gorgeous in the bright lighting of the afternoon as he drove. 

Yuuji’s heart hurt, despite how ridiculous he knew he was being. Megumi wasn’t his boyfriend. Hell, Megumi didn't even know Yuuji liked him. As far as Megumi knew, they were just friends. Good friends. And friends don’t catastrophise over photos of one another hanging out with pretty girls. But Yuuji’s traitorous heart and brain seemed to side against him. 

His phone buzzed, and for one hopeful second, his heart jumped, thinking it would be Megumi. 

It wasn’t. Just Nobara asking if he wanted to come over.

Yuuji stared at the message. He thought back to the photo, then looked back at the message.

A distraction sounded pretty good right about now.

He texted Nobara back. Saying he’ll be over soon and asking if she had any pot, and an hour later, he found himself where he was now, sitting on Nobara's couch, inhaling more weed than he smoked in the entire semester. 

His phone sat heavy in his pocket. Megumi had texted him hours ago, after the Instagram story incident, asking if he still wanted to come over. Yuuji sent a short at Nobara’s and hasn’t checked his phone since. Was he being petty? Probably. But the ache in his chest was so hard to ignore, he couldn’t bring himself to feel more guilty than he already did. 

He was being dramatic; he knew that. One vague text and an Instagram story shouldn't have been enough to ruin his mood. And yet every time his thoughts wandered, they somehow found their way back to Megumi. Back to Hana and that stupid heart typed in that stupid font. 

They smoked more. Nobara, now crossed faded, started playing her music louder, getting up and dancing around the living room, pulling Yuuji with her as Maki sat and laughed at the two. 

For a while, it was nice.

The ache in his chest dulled into something manageable. The conversation flowed around him like water, easy to drift in and out of. Nobara was talking about something. Maki was making fun of her. Yuuji laughed despite not entirely understanding what they were arguing about.

Everything felt comfortably distant. 

Then, slowly, the feelings started to change. Yuuji blinked, and the room tilted slightly. Not enough to be alarming. Just enough to make him sit up.

The couch cushions shifted beneath him. Or maybe it was him who shifted. It was getting hard to tell.

"You okay?" Nobara asked.

Yuuji nodded immediately. "Yep." He said. But his voice sounded weird and far away. 

Nobara squinted at him. “Uh huh.” She said skeptically. 

Yuuji looked down at his hands. For some reason, staring at them made things worse. They looked strange. The veins on it seemed to be moving, throbbing as his pulse drummed under his skin. They weren't wrong, just unfamiliar. His pulse thudded beneath his skin so loudly he could count the beats.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Too loud.

Way too loud.

He swallowed. And the motion felt exaggerated. Like he could feel every inch of his throat moving. He tried to tilt his head back against the couch, but doing so made the room get smaller, thoughts clustering together faster than before. His vision blurred, like he was seeing two of everything. And his head felt like someone had replaced his brain with something liquid. 

"Actually," he said. "I might need water." He said. 

"Good idea," Maki replied.

Yuuji pushed himself to his feet.

Instant regret.

The room lurched. His stomach dropped as he swayed, falling back on the couch as he tried to stop his world from spinning. “Oh.” He mumbled. 

Nobara stood up then. “Oh no, you are not puking on my carpet.” She warned, and she put a hand on his shoulder. He almost didn’t feel her hand there, just a dull buzz on his skin where her fingers touched. 

The nausea hit him all at once. His mouth filled with saliva. “Oh shit.” 

Maki was standing too now, “Bathroom. Now.” 

Yuuji didn’t argue. He managed to stand with both their help, but he waved them off as he stumbled down the hallway, one hand dragging along the wall for balance. He felt the two of them following him, ready to catch him if he fell. 

He staggered into the bathroom. Nobara and Maki moved to follow him inside, but he shut the door before they could cross the threshold. Nobara bangs on the door, “You better get it in the toilet, you ass!” She yells through the door. 

Yuuji can’t find it in himself to answer; he maneuvers himself to the floor without knocking anything over and calls it a success. He’s still nauseous but doesn’t feel any rise of bile, so he remains on the floor. 

Cold tile pressed against his skin; the relief was immediate. The room still spun, but at least the floor wasn't moving. Yuuji squeezed his eyes shut.

Bad idea. Everything spun harder.

He opened them again, seeing the toilet sitting in front of him like a threat. His stomach rolled, and sweat gathered at the back of his neck.

A shaky breath escaped him.

From the other side of the door, he heard Nobara's voice. Much softer than before. 

"Yuuji?"

"I'm okay." He said weakly. 

His head felt full of cotton, his chest so tight it almost hurt to breathe. Every small movement made the room get smaller and his thoughts more scattered. Nobara kept checking on him, but every knock she gave, he would brush away with a quiet " I’m fine. She would scoff and mumble something Yuuji couldn’t make out, and eventually left him alone for another ten minutes before she’d check again. 

Eventually, Yuuji forced himself to sit up, and the dizziness was much more manageable than before. He spotted an empty glass on the sink and reached to fill it with water from the tap before gulping down the entire thing. 

He sat against the wood of the sink cabinets, slowly piecing himself back together. 

He overdid it. He got his heart broken and got high enough to make himself sick. God, he was pathetic.  It’s not his business if Megumi gets a girlfriend. He doesn’t have the right to be possessive when he never took the chance to confess, let alone ask him out. 

He got too comfortable. Spending nights up late with him as they watched Yuuji’s questionable taste in movies. Getting lunch and coffee together in between classes. Megumi trying desperately to help Yuuji get his work done, the way he would lean into Yuuji’s space to show him how to do some math problems. And Yuuji would feel his heartbeat pick up as he smelled the sandalwood cologne he always used. Moments where their legs would press together under tables, the way their hands would brush each other as they walked together. 

Yuuji hoped all the stolen moments between them meant something. He started to believe it all wasn’t accidental, and he may actually stand a chance. But then something like today would happen, something as little as Megumi spending time with a pretty girl, and Yuuji felt sick to his stomach as he mourned the time and moments they would share. 

He’s in the middle of drowning in his self-pity when he hears a knock on the door, louder than the other ones. He groans, and he hears a soft click, signaling that Nobara has finally caved in and picked the lock. She peeks in, first looking at Yuuji, where he sits on the floor, then she scans the room around her, assessing the damage. 

She looks back at him, “You didn’t puke, did you?” She asks. 

Yuuji shakes his head, “Nah, just needed to lie down.” He mumbles, his head is still so fuzzy, and his limbs feel numb and boneless. 

She walks in, pulling at his arm, “Alright, c’mon, get up already.” 

Yuuji can’t find the strength to help her pull him up, and somehow she lifts him just off the floor until his legs buckle, his head beginning to swim and turn crowded with thoughts. He falls, and she just narrowly catches him and lays him back on the floor. “Maki! Get in here, I need help.” 

Maki walks in, looking from Nobara to where Yuuji sits on the floor. She shakes her head, moving forward to help Nobara, but Yuuji feels so lightheaded, so spaced out, he pulls away from their grasp. “I can’t.” He rasps out. “Just let me lie down.” He says, pushing their hands away and moving back to lie on the cool floor. 

He hears them talking, but his head is so flushed, and everything is blurry and bright. Is he dying? Can you overdose on pot? Fuck, that’d be so embarrassing. 

Maki and Nobara back off, sharing a look of concern before Nobara pulls out her phone and strolls out of the room. 

He distantly hears Nobara talking to someone, “Yeah, he’s really out of it, you gotta come get him cause he won’t let us help.” 

Yuuji closes his eyes, dreaming of hues of green, black ebony hair that he always wished to run his hands through. He falls into a quiet sleep with a small smile growing on his face. He’s still feeling feverish, but at the thought of Megumi, he feels content. 

He hears his phone buzz from his pocket, and it takes him an embarrassing amount of effort to pull it out to look at his notifications. His throat closes when he reads Megumi’s name on the screen. 

Megs<3

Yuuji

Are you okay? 

Yuuji frowns. Unless Megumi has suddenly gained the ability to read minds from miles away, he shouldn’t know about him completely greening out. He types a reply with shaky hands. 

Yuuji

hiiiii Megs

i’m so good

what you doingg ;)) 

He cringes; he can’t let Megumi find out he freaked out and smoked way too much weed. He’s too smart for that. He’d connect the dots immediately that the night he got sick from too much pot was the same day Megumi had to cancel their date. He decides to play it casual, well, as casual as he can when he’s inebriated as much as he is. 

Megs<3

I’m coming to get you. 

Be there in ten. 

Yuuji frowns at his screen again. Suddenly, the feeling of bile rising is heightened. How did he know? Yuuji reads the texts he sent with a reckless mood and almost throws his phone at how obvious he must have been. Was it the nickname? He’s sure he’s used it before when he was sober. And seriously? What you doing? He may have well have told him he’s higher than he’s ever been and is close to seeing that white light. 

Yuuji felt a sudden dizzy spell from his place on the floor. He let his phone fall from his hand and knock against the cool floor. He let his head fall forward until he was lying face down on the bathroom floor. He shut his eyes, still feeling the sick nausea in his stomach, and his thoughts were so fast he couldn’t do much but focus solely on his heavy breathing. 

He slips into a state between sleep and consciousness, not fully awake but unable to dream either.  He loses track of time as he switches from being awake to completely unconscious. He startles when he feels strong hands on his shoulder, trying to pull him up to stand. 

His eyes snap open, and he pushes away. Mumbling under his breath that he just wants to be alone. A sigh, then in a quieter voice, so small Yuuji can barely make out. He distantly hears someone respond, someone with a deep, smooth voice that always had a strange edge to it as if they don’t talk often. 

Yuuji is hit with nausea once again, and he knocks his head against the tiles, “Megs…” He mumbles. 

The arms that had been trying to pull him up lean away. And soon he feels another pair wrap about his bicep. These hands are longer, with paler skin, and Yuuji can see the transparent color of veins running along the strong knuckles. His hands are cold from where they gently guide him to sit up. After some maneuvering, Yuuji is back to sitting against the cabinet doors, and he blinks his eyes open to see something that makes his heart jump in his throat. 

Megumi is here. He’s squatting in front of Yuuji, eyes searching and full of worry. His hair is a mess, sticking in absolutely every direction. As if he just woke up from a deep sleep and couldn’t be bothered to fix it. He looks tired, with dark circles beneath his eyes, which soften as he stares at Yuuji with a concerned look on his face. Yuuji looks down to see he’s dressed in just a t-shirt and plaid pajama pants. His hand is still resting on Yuuji’s shoulder, and Yuuji finds the touch so comforting that he almost starts crying. 

Megumi’s eyes scan his face, his thumb rubbing back and forth on Yuuji’s shoulder. “You okay?” He asks. 

Yuuji is so enamored by how, even in the bright, overpowering light of the bathroom, Megumi looks gorgeous. The light reflects on his high cheekbones, making him look like he’s glowing. His eyelashes cast shadows on his porcelain face, shifting every time he blinks at Yuuji. His mouth is set in a straight line, passing worried glances to Nobara and Maki, who linger in the doorway. 

He looks back at Yuuji, “Yuuji.” He says again, and Yuuji realizes he never answered him. But words fail him, so he just nods slowly, his eyes never leaving Megumi’s. 

Megumi doesn’t seem convinced. “Do you still feel sick?” He asks. 

Yuuji does, in fact, he feels like his heart is going to implode any second now. But he shakes his head anyway. Megumi nods, moving to stand, and Yuuji grows so scared he’s leaving him that he whips his hand to catch his arm before he can. “Don’t go.” He says weakly. 

Megumi looks at him, then to his arm, where Yuuji is gripping him, as if he’ll never see him again. He looks back at Yuuji and reaches his hand to wrap around Yuuji’s, where it rests on his arm. “I’m not going anywhere, Yuuji.” He says. “I’m taking us home.”   

Yuuji feels a wave of relief come over him. Home. Yeah, home sounds good. He nods at Megumi, who takes his hand off Yuuji’s, and Yuuji has to fight the urge to pout at him. But he doesn’t get a chance to because Megumi is leaning over him, wrapping a strong arm around his back and looping through his shoulder, the other circles his waist as he pulls up to get him to stand. 

Yuuji feels as if the wind has been knocked out of him. Megumi’s strong hands, wrapped around his waist and back, were sending electric waves through his body. He felt hot all of a sudden, like everywhere Megumi touched was setting fire to his skin. 

Megumi pulls harder, and Yuuji tries to let him, he really does. But his legs give out again, and Megumi has to tighten his grip. Thankfully, Yuuji doesn’t make it to the floor, Megumi adjusts to the sudden dip in weight and makes it so Yuuji’s leaning against him. Yuuji is hit with the scent of his cologne and cedar body soap. He smells comforting, so much so that Yuuji can’t help himself from burying his face into his neck, now almost all of Yuuji’s weight is being supported by Megumi. 

Megumi shifts for them to walk, and Yuuji goes willingly. Nobara holds the door for them, while Maki walks slowly ahead of them in case another dizzy spell hits him. Megumi huffs as they walk through the front door, Maki and Nobara still trailing behind them as they make their way to the elevators. 

Megumi hauls them in, wavering a little as he shifts Yuuji to one side so he can push the button to the lobby. Nobara and Maki stand there before the doors shut. “You better text me when you get him home.” Nobara says. Maki nods next to her. 

Megumi offers a curt nod, and then the doors are shutting. 

It’s silent between them, just the faint sounds of the elevator music keeping Yuuji awake. He nuzzles into Megumi’s neck, inhaling. He hums, “You smell nice Megs.” He mumbles into his skin. 

Megumi is still for a moment before he wraps his arm around Yuuji tighter, letting him be supported completely. Yuuji knew it was just to keep him upright, but with his hands rubbing gently along his waist, Yuuji let himself pretend it meant something. 

The door opens, and Yuuji and Megumi make their way outside. It’s pitch dark out, just the stuttering streetlights keeping them from total darkness. Megumi leads them along the parking lot, spotting his car and walking towards it. 

He shifts Yuuji against the car, letting go just so he can take out his keys and unlock the doors. He opens the passenger side door and turns to Yuuji to let him slide in. Yuuji isn’t much help at the moment, letting Megumi move his limbs and tilt his torso until he is seated and buckled in. 

Shutting the door gently, he walks around the side and slides into the driver's seat. Starting the car and turning the heat up. He glances at Yuuji, looking like he was about to say something, but tucks it away. He reverses out of the parking lot and drives off.

Yuuji notices how slow he’s driving. He eases around every corner, braking long before each stop and taking every turn with careful precision, like he’s afraid even the slightest jolt will make Yuuji sick again. The streets are quiet this late at night, giving Megumi no reason to rush, and he doesn’t. One hand stays steady on the wheel, the other resting loosely on the center console, close enough that Yuuji thinks, if he needed it, Megumi would reach for him without a second thought. 

The soft sound of music echoes from the speaker, lulling Yuuji to sleep. But every time Yuuji’s eyes slipped closed, a sense of panic from deep in his stomach would rise. He was shaking, his leg bouncing rapidly, and he was unable to focus on one thing. He felt sick, 

“Megumi. Pull over.” He chokes. 

Megumi spares him a wide-eyed stare before he quickly puts his blinker on, weaving to the side of the dark road and shifting gears. The car rolled slowly along the gravel beside the road. Yuuji didn’t wait for it to reach a full stop. He tumbled out of the car, barely making it 3 steps away before he was falling to his knees, his stomach emptying itself. 

He coughed, finding it hard to breathe when every breath was matched with his throat closing up and his stomach turning. He sat there on all fours, shakily breathing as bile was expelled from his stomach. He just realized he didn’t eat today. He had been waiting to eat with Megumi today, and after he canceled, Yuuji was so upset he completely forgot to eat anything all day. 

Well, that might explain some things. 

Yuuji continues to hack and cough, then he feels a hand on his back, rubbing up and down his spine and moving along his shoulder blades. Megumi. Yuuji groaned, which made Megumi’s hand move more slowly, but he was too distracted by the fact that he had just puked his guts out in front of Megumi.  

But Megumi doesn’t shy away from him; he continues to stroke his back in comforting circles. “It's okay, Yuuji.” He mumbles, his voice quiet. 

Yuuji worries that talking will make the bile rise again, so he nods his head, breathing heavily as he hangs his head low. One of Megumi’s hands comes up to scrape against the short hairs of his undercut before sliding back down his shoulder blades. 

“C’mon Yuu, I’m gonna take you home.” He says. 

He says it with such casual affection that Yuuji can’t take it. He manages to hum an affirmation and moves to stand. Megumi adjusts himself immediately, his hands flying to grip his arms and back lest he lose balance. Yuuji takes advantage of the closeness to wrap his arms around him. Megumi freezes, his back going stiff as a rod. Yuuji sighs deeply into his chest, his forehead pressing against the soft fabric of Megumi’s shirt. He can hear his heartbeat, steady and slow and maddeningly calm. It grounds him more than the cold bathroom floor ever could. The dizziness doesn’t disappear, but it stops feeling so all consuming. 

“I don’t feel good,” he chokes out, the words muffled against Megumi’s chest. “Everythings…weird.” 

Megumi doesn’t answer right away, and Yuuji wonders if he’s made everything awkward. If he should let go. If he’s crossed some invisible line they'll never be able to uncross. 

Megumi finally responds. Slowly, his arms move to wrap around Yuuji, and he lets Yuuji catch his breath and slowly descend from the nightmare of a high he endured. Yuuji could stay like that forever. 

"It's okay," Megumi says. His hands rubbed soft circles along Yuuji’s back. Yuuji falls deeper into the embrace. He’s still dizzy, but Megumi’s weight to lean on is a comfort he didn’t know he needed. 

But since it is a cold night in the middle of February, and long past midnight, Megumi pulls away and leads Yuuji back to the car. When Yuuji is sitting, Megumi moves the seat back and lowers it so he can lie down. The drive is quiet, and Yuuji feels significantly better than he did before. 

Megumi plays soft, slow music that is slowly lulling Yuuji to sleep. He’s looking out the window, counting the passing stoplights as they drive, the only speck of light he can see at the moment. He spares a look at Megumi and can’t help but stare. 

Megumi drives one-handed, one hand casually resting on the wheel, the other back to lying along the center console. Yuuji can see the way the lights illuminate his face, shining bright as light passes over his handsome features, then dull, then finds light again. It’s completely hypnotizing. Yuuji can’t look away. He rests his head back against the headrest and shamelessly stares at Megumi. 

Eventually, Megumi spares him a look out of the corner of his eye, and Yuuji notices the way one side of his lips curves up. “What?” He asks. 

Yuuji smiles, “Nothing.” He says, sighing as he continues to stare. 

“I think I have to ban you from smoking for a while.” Megumi remarks. 

Yuuji wines, “I’m never gonna hear the end of this.” 

Megumi breathes out an almost laugh, “No kidding.” He says. 

It’s quiet for a beat. The song changes into a moody, slow song Yuuji doesn’t know. He looks to the dashboard to see its passed 1 am at this point. And he suddenly feels a sinking feeling in his stomach. He dragged Megumi out of bed on a Friday night so he could drive him home after smoking too much pot. Megumi is probably pissed, but too kind a person to lash out about it. Yuuji can’t help but feel he doesn’t deserve this kindness. 

“I’m sorry.” He mumbles, closing his eyes. 

Megumi looks to him for a second before he’s back to staring out at the dark road. “What are you sorry for?” He says. 

Yuuji shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “I’m sorry I made you come get me. You were probably sleeping, and now you’re driving me home cause I–” 

“Yuuji, stop.” Megumi interrupts. “Don’t feel bad, I’d rather be here to get you home safe than to just leave you there.” He says, he drives slower and looks to Yuuji, he takes his hand that was resting on the center console and places it on Yuuji’s thigh. “I don’t want you to feel bad, I really don’t mind.” He says. 

Yuuji’s heartbeat jumps at the contact. His eyes flew between Megumi’s hand on his thigh and the earnestness in his eyes. Yuuji’s throat closes, and he can’t find the words to say what he’s feeling. He settles for a nod and hesitantly rests his hand on Megumi’s, squeezing. 

Megumi nods back at him, then redirects his eyes to the road. 

They ride in silence again, much more comfortable than before. Yuuji rests his eyes, the streetlights starting to make his head hurt more. He snoozes for a bit before he feels Megumi stop the car, his hand gently leaves Yuuji’s as he wakes. 

Megumi gets out of the car and walks around to open the passenger side. Yuuji sits up as he opens the door, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. Megumi reaches to wrap his arms around his back again, pulling him out of the car and leading him to the doors of his apartment. They walk the steps, well, Megumi walks. Yuuji feels limp as he lets Megumi basically drag him up the narrow staircase. They reach his door, and Megumi pulls away a bit, looking at Yuuji as if he’s waiting for something. 

Yuuji’s slow to realize he’s waiting for him to take out his keys to unlock the door. And suddenly, that sinking feeling is back, and he feels sick all over again. 

Megumi raises an eyebrow, “Your keys?” He asks. 

Yuuji opens his mouth, then closes it as he stares at Megumi in horror. 

“I think I left them at Nobara’s.” He mutters. 

Megumi’s eyes widen, then he lets out a long sigh. “Alright, let's go then.” He says, turning Yuuji around back to the stairs. 

Yuuji almost falls from his grip, he reaches for Megumi’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry, fuck I’m sorry.” He stammers. 

Megumi just sighs again, “Nothing we can do, let’s go to mine.” 

They walk back to the car in shame, mostly on Yuuji’s part. The drive is silent, and Yuuji bites his lip the whole ride, feeling embarrassed, ashamed, and like a burden. This night couldn’t get any worse. 

Megumi doesn’t say anything, but he does place his hand back on Yuuji’s thigh, rubbing circles with his thumb on Yuuji’s jeans. “Don’t worry Yuuji.” He says. 

Yuuji lets out a long breath. He tries to control his breathing, but his mind only supplies cruel and unrealistic thoughts. He could cry. But he doesn’t, he leans his head back and closes his eyes again. He doesn’t reach for Megumi’s hand. 

It’s not long before they’re pulling up to Megumi’s building. And they repeat the same motion that consists of Megumi dragging Yuuji to his door. Yuuji’s not much help, his limbs feel heavy, and every step makes his head spin. 

He leans against the wall next to Megumi’s door as Megumi takes out his keys to unlock it. When it’s open, he lifts an arm to Yuuji’s shoulders and guides them inside. 

Yuuji’s not unfamiliar with Megumi’s apartment. He’s been over so many times that it always managed to bring a sense of comfort, being in Megumi’s space with just the two of them. Now, he feels a sick sense of dread as he walks through the foyer. They kick off their shoes, and Megumi walks him to the couch to sit. Yuuji sinks into the cushions, and Megumi spares him a stare before he turns to walk to his bedroom. 

“Be right back.” He says as he leaves. 

Yuuji nods. The second Megumi disappears down the hallway, the silence settles over the apartment. It’s deafening. Yuuji curls his hands into the sleeves of his hoodie and stares at the coffee table, trying to focus on the wood grain instead of the replay button his brain keeps smashing.

I think I might die. 

God. Why had he texted Megumi like that? Why had he hugged him after puking his guts out? Why did he have to forget his goddamn keys? And why did Megumi have to be so perfect about it all? 

His stomach churns. He’d hugged Megumi. No, he’d practically tackled him, without care for how disgusted he probably was in the moment. He hadn’t done a single thing today worthy of the kindness Megumi was giving him. He didn’t deserve to have someone drag him to their place after all he’s done. He ignored his texts and went to Nobara’s to get wasted. He made him get out of bed in the middle of the night to drive him home, and he didn’t make any of this easy on him. 

He'd buried his face in his chest like some lovesick idiot and refused to let go. His face felt hot. Megumi had probably just stood there because Yuuji was obviously freaking out. Because what else was he supposed to do? 

Yuuji squeezes his eyes shut. He can still feel the warmth of Megumi's shirt against his cheek. Can still remember how careful his hands had been, rubbing circles into his back like he was trying to calm a frightened animal.

He groans quietly. "This is so bad."

Maybe Megumi knew. Maybe he'd always known. Maybe Nobara had said something.

His thoughts screech to a halt. Maybe that's why he canceled.

What if he had canceled on Yuuji because he figured it out? What if Hana confessed, and what if Megumi liked her back? 

Don't know what I'd do without you <3.

Yuuji had spent the entire afternoon trying to convince himself it didn't mean anything. Now, sitting on Megumi's couch, wrapped in the scent of his apartment, it suddenly felt like it meant everything.

His chest tightens. He doesn't belong here. Not like this. Not after making such a complete ass of himself. He should leave.

He glances toward the front door. It's only a few steps away.

He could text Nobara, or call an Uber. Or even just walk home.

...He doesn't have his keys.

Right.

His shoulders slump. He lets out a shaky laugh that sounds far too close to a sob. "Get it together," he mutters to himself. "You're twenty-one."

He looks around the living room and thinks about how much it is painfully, unmistakably Megumi. The half-finished book on the side table. A pair of sneakers was kicked haphazardly by the entryway. The sweatshirt draped over the dining chair.

Yuuji knows where Megumi keeps the mugs. Knows which cabinet has the instant ramen. Knows the blanket folded over the armrest is the one Megumi always throws at him when he falls asleep during movie nights.

The familiarity hurts.

Because somewhere along the line, this place had started feeling like home. Not because it was his. Because Megumi was in it.

Footsteps approach from down the hall. Yuuji hastily wipes at his face before he even realizes his eyes have started watering.

By the time Megumi rounds the corner with a blanket tucked under one arm and a glass of water in the other, Yuuji has arranged his expression into something that almost resembles okay. He notices he’s carrying a bundle of clothes too. He walks to Yuuji and hands him a pair of sweats and a worn t-shirt. “Here,” he says. 

Yuuji takes them and mumbles a thanks. He stands to go change and is hit by another dizzy spell. Megumi clasps a hand on his shoulder before he can tumble further. “Do you, do you need help getting dressed?” He asks, voice unsure and strange. 

Yuuji whips his head up, “No!” He says hurriedly, his voice cracking. He clears his throat and steps towards the bathroom, his steps determined and heavy. “No, I’m good. Just give me a sec.” He says, walking away. 

He shuts the bathroom door behind him and stares at his reflection. He looks insane. He has dark circles under his eyes, which are red and bloodshot and now also wet. His hair is messy, like he woke up after sleeping for over 24 hours. His lips are chapped and dry, and his cheeks red and puffy. Fuck. Megumi had seen him like this all night, and he still didn’t turn away. Yuuji can’t help but think why. 

He changes into Megumi’s clothes, almost knocking over everything on the sink and nearly falling back into the wall. Once dressed, he splashed cold water on his face, trying to bring himself back to reality so he could escape this hell of a high that possibly ruined his best relationship. 

He sees the spare toothbrush he always used when he would sleep over here and brush his teeth aggressively. He looks down at the sink as he does, not being able to stare at his reflection for too long. Once he finishes, he grabs his clothes off the floor and walks back to the living room, where Megumi was sitting on the couch, scrolling on his phone. He looks up as Yuuji approaches, and Yuuji sees that he has laid down the blanket and pillows on the couch for him. His heart aches more. 

“Feeling better?” Megumi asks, pocketing his phone and standing up to make sure Yuuji wasn’t at risk of falling again. 

Yuuji nods, putting his dirty clothes on the floor by the couch and letting himself fall into the cushions, leaning his head back. Megumi hands him the cup of water, and Yuuji downs the whole thing, sighing as he finishes. 

Megumi stands, lifting the blanket so it covers Yuuji and placing a hand on his shoulder to push him to lie down. “You should sleep, you’ll feel better in the morning.” He says, tucking Yuuji in. 

Yuuji nods again and feels like he could cry all over again. Megumi crouches on the floor by the couch, running a hand through Yuuji’s short pink locks. His mouth is set in a straight line, and his eyes scream worry. Yuuji offers a small smile, “Thanks Megs.” He mumbles. 

Megumi runs a hand through his hair once more, “It’s no problem Yuu.” He says. He stands, “I’ll see you in the morning.” And then he’s walking to his room, softly shutting the door, and Yuuji is alone again. 

Yuuji turns to lie on his back, staring blankly at the white ceiling above him. He didn’t feel the intensity of nausea as he did before, but now it was replaced by that heavy, sinking feeling in his chest. 

He tries to shut his eyes, but through the darkness he seems a glimpse of green, he sees long pale fingers holding him upright, he sees his concerned face as he runs a hand through Yuuji’s hair. He sees Megumi, showing up at Nobara’s apartment, still in his pajamas, lifting Yuuji up to take him home so he can sleep off his high. 

His heart aches so much it feels like his chest is on fire. 

He rubs his eyes aggressively, seeing stars for a moment. He buries his face in the pillows, trying and failing to make his head stop spinning. 

You smoked trying to forget him. 

You hugged him when he came. 

You made him bring you home because you got too high. 

Yuuji dragged the blanket over his face with another groan. “I’m never smoking again.” He mumbles into the sheets, his own voice sounding too loud in the apartment. 

He’s met with silence, and he peeks out from under the blanket. 

The apartment is dark now, lit only by the streetlights filtering through the blinds. The hallway leading to Megumi’s room looks impossibly long. 

Yuuji rolls onto his side. Then onto his back. The other side. Every position feels wrong. He squeezes his eyes shut again, and the second he does, the room starts to sway. Not enough to make him sick, just enough to remind him he’s still high. 

His heartbeat picks up. 

No. Not this again. 

He opens his eyes immediately. The room steadies, just barely. He tells himself he’s fine, he’s safe. All he has to do is sleep. He reasons that he’s in his twenties and perfectly capable of spending one night on his best friend’s couch. But then why does he feel so alone? 

Yuuji swallows. The apartment is quiet enough that he can hear the refrigerator humming in the kitchen. He wonders if Megumi is asleep already. He probably isn’t. He never falls asleep this quickly, he could be reading, or scrolling on his phone. Or lying there wondering what the hell did he got into befriending someone like Yuuji. 

Heat creeps up Yuuji’s neck. “Stop,” he whispers to himself. 

He tries counting. When that doesn’t work, he tries to focus on his breathing, but that only makes him feel more trapped. The longer he lies there, the more aware he becomes that there is only a wall between him and Megumi. 

One stupid wall. 

And somehow that thought makes the apartment feel bigger. His chest tightens again, not in panic, just something wrong. 

Yuuji sits up and waits for the dizziness to settle. When it does for the most part, he looks to stare down the hallway. 

He shouldn’t. 

It’s a terrible idea. 

A reckless, emotional, stupid idea. 

He shouldn’t bother him anymore. He already dug his grave, now all he had to do was lie in it, on this soft, familiar couch that smelled too much of him. 

But he didn’t want to be alone. Not anymore. The realization hits him with embarrassing clarity. God, he’s pathetic. 

He stands, throwing the blanket aside and pads quietly down the hallway. When he reaches Megumi’s bedroom door, he hesitates. His fist hovers in the air. 

Go back. This is stupid. He’s asleep. You’ve done enough.

But Yuuji pushes past the negative thoughts running through his head, and he knocks. Just a soft tap against the wood, barely audible. 

He almost worries Megumi didn’t hear it, then comes footsteps, and a quiet raspy, “...Yuuji?” 

And somehow, just hearing his name makes the tightness in Yuuji’s chest ease, if only a little. 

The door opens, and Megumi blinks at him. His hair is a mess, worse than before. His eyes are squinted, blinking away sleep as he stares at Yuuji, who stands like an idiot in the doorway, hand raised. “Hi.” He says. 

Megumi raises an eyebrow, opening the door further and looks behind Yuuji to the living room, to the couch where Yuuji was supposed to be. “Is everything okay?” He asks. 

Yuuji’s mouth opens, then shuts shortly after. His eyes are wide and dry from crying, he can’t find the words he never really spent time preparing. 

Megumi stares at him for a moment longer, then he sighs. He grabs Yuuji’s arm and tugs him into the room. Yuuji follows after him, staggering slightly after Megumi as he’s pulled towards the bed. Megumi pulls back the covers and crawls in, pulling Yuuji in behind him. Yuuji goes willingly. 

Yuuji pulls the covers up so both of them are covered, and he turns on his side and stares at Megumi. He looks more awake than before, his eyes wide as they search Yuuji’s. Yuuji can’t help but sigh softly at the sight, Megumi’s face pressed against the pillows, his hair falling into his face and against the soft sheets below. He looks soft, and being here with him, in his bed, in his apartment. The intimacy is almost too much. 

Then, Yuuji hears the soft rasp of Megumi’s voice. “Couldn’t sleep?” He asks. 

Yuuji looks at him. He bites his lip and shakes his head. 

Megumi nods, closing his eyes. He reaches for Yuuji’s arm, brushing the skin with hesitant fingers. “You’re still anxious.” He says. It isn’t a question. 

Yuuji lets out a weak laugh. “Am I that obvious?” 

Megumi’s lips quirk slightly up, his hand still tracing patterns on Yuuji’s arm as if he doesn’t realize he’s doing it. “To me, yeah.” 

Megumi’s thumb brushes once more over his sleeve before his hand stills. “The high’ll wear off,” he says quietly. “You’re okay.” 

Yuuji smiles, taking a breath and leaning further into Megumi’s space. “I know.” 

“You don’t sound like you believe me.” 

Yuuji doesn’t, not entirely. The nausea is mostly gone. His head has stopped spinning. But the thoughts are still there, circling one another like vultures. “I…” he swallows. “I think I kinda overdid it.” 

“Yeah.” 

“A lot,” Yuuji admits. 

“A lot,” Megumi agrees. 

Yuuji lets out another embarrassed groan and turns his face into the pillows, hiding his warm face from Megumi’s watchful eyes. “I made such an idiot of myself.” He mumbles. 

“You got too high, it happens,” Megumi says, his thumb back to brushing circles on Yuuji’s bicep. 

“I texted you that stupid text.” 

“I thought it was funny.” Megumi supplies. 

“I hugged you after I threw up,” Yuuji mutters bitterly. 

Megumi is quiet. “I didn't mind.” He says. 

“I’m sorry,” Yuuji says, ducking his head.

Megumi squints, he reaches to brush his fingers along Yuuji’s jaw until he looks back at him. Yuuji finds it harder to find what words to say when he stares back into those deep green eyes, bright even in the darkness of his room. “For what?” 

“I don’t know.” Yuuji laughs humorously. “For all of it.” 

Megumi’s hands brush his jaw, then he cradles his cheek, forcing him to look at him and not hide beneath the pillows again. “You don’t have to apologize for needing help.” 

That hits harder than it should. 

Yuuji blinks at the ceiling for a moment before speaking again. “I wasn’t supposed to get that high.” 

Megumi’s thumb stills on his cheek for a moment, before returning to the soft comforting gesture. “No?” He asks. 

Yuuji shakes his head. “I just…” His voice catches. “I wanted to stop thinking.” 

Megumi studies him, his tired eyes still so alert. “Thinking about what?” 

Yuuji’s stomach twists. He could lie. He could make up an excuse about school, homework, money, or anything. Instead he shrugs. 

“Stuff.” He mumbles. 

Megumi gives him a look, “..Yuuji.” 

Yuuji sighs, he can’t lie to him. After tonight, he deserves to know what pulled him into this mess. 

“You cancelling today.” 

Silence. The deafening kind. Yuuji can hear his heartbeat under his chest, he feels every breath between them that they share. It’s almost too much. 

Megumi’s brows knit together. “About lunch? Why would you–” 

“I know it’s stupid.” Yuuji interrupts, turning his head away again, but Megumi is quick to pull him back, forcing him to look at his electric eyes that know too much and speak too little. 

“It’s not stupid, I didn’t mean for you to feel that way.” 

“It was,” Yuuji repeats. He stares down at the blanket. “I was just… already having a bad day, and then you texted saying you had to cancel, and I told myself it wasn’t a big deal because you definitely had a reason.” He pauses. “Then I saw Hana’s story.” 

Megumi blinks. “Hana’s…” 

“The Instagram story.” 

Understanding flickers across Megumi’s face. “Oh.” 

Yuuji immediately regrets saying anything. “She just—” he laughs, forcefully and awkwardly. “The caption, and the heart, and…” He squeezes his eyes shut. “God, it sounds so stupid now.” 

“You got high because of an Instagram story?” Megumi asks, incredulous and confused, his hand is off Yuuji’s face now, and he just stares at him in surprise. 

“Well, when you say it like that…” 

“I’m just trying to understand,” Megumi says, raising a brow. 

Yuuji licks his lips. “It wasn’t just the story.” His voice is barely above a whisper now. “I just kept thinking, maybe you canceled because you wanted to be with her instead.” 

Megumi stares at him. Then, after a long moment, “You thought that?” He asks, his voice rising. 

Yuuji can’t bring himself to answer. The silence is answer enough. 

Then, Megumi sighs, a long, tired sigh that makes his breath hit Yuuji’s face. “Yuuji.” He starts. 

“Look, I get it okay?” Yuuji begins, “It’s stupid okay, it’s fucking stupid. But I really wanted to see you and you ditched me to go on a date with Hana like I didn’t matter–” 

“Hana’s car broke down.” 

Yuuji blinks, mouth still open to say more, but that sentence sucked the breath out of him entirely. What? 

Yuuji stares at Megumi, who props himself up on an elbow to stare down at Yuuji. He looks annoyed and probably sleep deprived. But Yuuji is too deep in his head to form a response. 

Megumi lifts an eyebrow, sighing again. “Her car broke down on her way home from class. She called me and asked me to come get her. I couldn’t just leave her there. And I texted you when I got back asking if you still wanted to hang out, and you,” he stops to jab a finger against Yuuji’s chest. “Ignored me.” He says, he's glaring now. Fuck, he’s pissed now. 

Megumi was nothing but a good friend to Yuuji all night, putting up with his mood, his inability to walk by himself, and even comforting him after puking just because Megumi was a good friend and didn’t care about how much of a fool Yuuji was making of himself. Because he cared about Yuuji. 

“You think I’d just flake on you for no reason?” Megumi asks, softer now, hurt. 

Yuuji’s body lifts before his brain can process the movement. He ignores the stars in his eyes and focuses on Megumi. “No!” He nearly yells. “No, I was just, I was–” he sputters.

But Megumi gets a gleam in his eyes, a dangerous quirk to his lips. And Yuuji, if he weren’t in such panic, would swoon at the sight. 

“You were jealous,” Megumi says, matter of factly. 

Yuuji’s eyes almost bug out of his skull, he goes to deny it, but his throat closes before he can form an excuse. 

“I–” 

“You were,” Megumi says again, leaning forward slightly. 

“I wasn’t!” Yuuji yells, pushing his shoulder but not adding much force. 

Megumi raises an eyebrow, and he waits. 

Yuuji sits there, breathing hard. His hand on Megumi’s shoulder turns to grip, he can’t help it. 

“...A little.” He says finally, a quiet mumble. 

“Just a little?”  

Yuuji groans, dropping his forehead forward into Megumi’s shoulder, anything to hide himself from those eyes, that smirk, that voice. “Please don’t make me say it.” 

“So I’m right.” 

“No!” 

Megumi chuckles, and Yuuji feels the vibrations shake him from his place. “You can’t take that back Yuu.” He says. 

Yuuji lets out a long, defeated sigh. “Stop making fun of me.” He wines. “This night sucks enough as is.” 

Megumi chuckles again, lifting a hand to card his fingers through Yuuji’s short pink strands. They sit there, and Megumi lets Yuuji wallow. He doesn’t speak, he’s waiting for Yuuji. 

Yuuji turns his head so it’s pressed against his neck. “I figured you were having more fun with her. Or that maybe she asked you out and you wanted to see her more than me.” He says bitterly. “I know that doesn’t make any sense, I knew it didn’t make sense then, too.” He takes a breath. “And I still made a fool of myself.” He mumbles. 

Megumi’s hand is still gently trying at the knots in Yuuji’s hair, gently unweaving them and stroking the strands sticking up. “So you went to Nobara.” 

“Yeah.” He mumbles

“And smoked half her stash.” 

“...Yeah.” 

Megumi snorts.

Yuuji looks up, offended. “Don’t laugh at me.” He pouts. 

Megumi stifles another chuckle, “I’m trying really hard not to.” 

“Well you’re doing a bad job.” 

“I know.” 

Yuuji stares at Megumi’s features, trying not to sigh at how soft he looks in the dark lighting. “So, you’re not with Hana?” He asks. 

“No,” Megumi says. 

“And you don’t, like, want to be?” 

Megumi raises an eyebrow, “No Yuuji, I don’t have any feelings for Hana, for fucks sake.” He says, a pitch of that familiar annoyance is there, a good sign. 

“But that caption–” 

“She says stuff like that to everyone.” 

“Oh.” Yuuji sighs. 

“And she was just thanking me for driving her.”

“Oh.” Yuuji repeats. 

Yuuji feels like every ounce of blood has been drained from his face. “..Oh.” He mumbles again. 

He flops backward onto the mattress with a miserable groan, throwing an arm over his eyes. “I’ve never wanted to evaporate more in my entire life.”

A quiet laugh escapes Megumi. “You’re unbelievable. And dramatic, like seriously? You thought I got a girlfriend, so your plan was to get wasted until I had to come get you?” 

Yuuji peeked an eye open, “Well it worked didn’t it?” He said, a smile returning to his face. 

“You’re insane. Why do I even like you.” Megumi sighs. 

That makes Yuuji’s eyes widen, his heart beating faster. “You like me?” He mumbles. 

Megumi’s eyes widen, his mouth opens, closes. He takes a shaky breath, “Yeah.” He says quietly. 

Yuuji springs up, leaning into Megumi’s space. He searches his eyes, eyes that always brought nothing but comfort. “You like me?” He asks again, leaning forward. 

Megumi leans back, looking away from Yuuji for a moment. He licks his lips and Yuuji waits patiently for his response. He’d wait forever for Megumi, it feels like he already has. 

Megumi looks back at him at last, his eyes scared and hesitant. “Yes. So much Yuuji,” he breathes out. 

Yuuji gawks at him, then a wide grin overcomes his face. He reaches blindly in the dark for Megumi’s hand, he squeezes. “I like you too.” He says, smiling. “I like you so much Megumi, it’s driving me crazy.” He leans further into his space, until there are just inches between them, sharing each other's breath. 

Megumi swallows, and Yuuji can’t help but dart his eyes to the way his throat bobs at the movement. He lifts his shirt to cover his burning face. “Yeah, I’d gathered that.” He mumbles. 

Yuuji can’t stop himself from lifting a hand to his cheek. He just has to move forward an inch, and they’d meet. He goes to do just that but Megumi slaps a hand over his mouth. 

“You’re still high.” He says, eyes narrowing. 

Yuuji takes his hand off his face, lacing their fingers together. “I don’t care. I want this. I want you.” He says, a surge of confidence overcoming him for the first time tonight. 

“I’m not kissing you when you’re wasted.” 

“I’m barely even high anymore,” Yuuji wines, leaning forward again, but Megumi turns his head before their lips touch. 

“No Yuuji. We should wait.” 

Yuuji groans, tilting his head so Megumi has no choice but to look at him. His pale skin is so red, his eyes dark with want despite his protests. “Just one, please Megs.” He says, putting on his best puppy dog eyes that always worked on him. 

But Megumi shakes his head. “No Yuuji.”

Yuuji pouts, and Megumi finally meets his eyes. He reaches a hand up to Yuuji’s face, stroking his cheek gently. He leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss to Yuuji’s forehead. “In the morning,” he says. 

Yuuji blushes fiercely, and he grabs Megumi to drag him back so their laying on their sides facing each other. If he has to wait till morning, he’s determined to sleep as soon as possible. Their hands are still laced together, and Megumi squeezes his hand reassuringly. He reaches a hand to grip Yuuji’s nape, pulling him until Yuuji’s face is pressed into the junction between his neck and shoulder. “Go to sleep Yuu.” He whispers. 

Yuuji sighs, nuzzling into him. He wraps his arms around Megumi’s waist, pulling him closer. “Megumi?” He says. 

Megumi strokes his back, pressing his face into Yuuji’s hair. “Yeah?” 

“I’m really happy I got this high.” 

Megumi snorts. “I’m still banning you from smoking. Next time you decide to green out, do it when I’m with you. I don’t need to be woken up at midnight to drag your sorry ass home.” 

Yuuji sighs, “Okay, I promise.” He giggles. 

They lay like that, Megumi’s hands slowly traveling up and down Yuuji’s back. Yuuji tightens his arms around him, feeling exhausted from the night and safe in Megumi’s arms. 

“Goodnight Megs.” He says into his neck. 

Megumi presses a kiss to his head, his lips lingering on his head. “Night Yuuji.” He hums. 

Yuuji smiles into his skin, letting his eyes finally drift shut. 

The room no longer spun. His thoughts no longer raced. The ache that had driven him to Nobara’s apartment in the first place had dissolved somewhere between Megumi’s patient hands and soft reassurance. 

Maybe getting high hadn’t been worth the panic attack. But falling asleep like this, wrapped in Megumi’s arms, with a promise of a kiss waiting for him in the morning? 

Yuuji figured he could live with that.