Work Text:
Megumi has always stolen Yuuji's clothes, it’s just how life goes. At first, it is one of his hoodies thrown over a T-shirt on an unusually cold morning, then it's the soft gray sweatshirt Yuuji wears around the apartment, followed by one of his oldest pairs of sweatpants rolled twice at the waist. None of it strikes Yuuji as unusual. They've been together long enough that their laundry has never really belonged to one person or the other.
Still, after nearly two weeks, Yuuji notices something missing.
"Hey," he says one evening as he folds another basket of laundry. "Have you gotten rid of all your shirts or something?"
Megumi glances up from the couch, where he's pretending to read but has barely turned a page in the last twenty minutes. "No."
"'Cause I'm pretty sure that's my fourth hoodie this week."
"It's comfortable."
"They're all comfortable."
Megumi only hums, eyes drifting back to his book.
Yuuji lets it go until Saturday morning when he finds Megumi standing in front of the bedroom mirror. The floor is littered with discarded clothes and Megumi is frowning at the pair of jeans he'd just managed to button. They fit technically, but the waistband digs in enough that he winces before unfastening them again.
"Megumi?"
Megumi's shoulders tense and without looking back he says quietly, "None of my clothes fit anymore."
Yuuji blinks in confusion and takes in the jeans on the floor, the abandoned shirts, the oversized hoodie hanging from Megumi's frame, and the way one hand unconsciously settles over his stomach.
It’s the moment where something suddenly clicks in his head. "Um."
"I know."
"Are you…?"
"I bought a test yesterday."
The admission hangs in the room between them and Yuuji steps closer, resting a gentle hand over Megumi's where it still lingers against his abdomen. "Were you going to tell me?"
"I was," Megumi says, finally meeting his eyes. "I just wanted to know first. I’m pretty sure though…there’s been other signs."
For a moment neither of them speaks but then Yuuji smiles softly, familiar and sweet, always fond of his Fushiguro even when he’s trying to hold all his burdens within. "C'mon," he murmurs, lacing their fingers together. "Let's make sure properly so we can celebrate."
Megumi squeezes his hand once before nodding and together they leave the pile of too small clothes scattered across the bedroom floor.