Chapter Text
"Megumi-kunnnn, come here!"
Megumi looked up from his phone, where he'd been scrolling through mission reports with feigned interest. Yuji was sprawled across his own bed, somehow taking up the entire surface despite being one person, holding his phone above his face with both hands. His legs kicked idly in the air, socks mismatched—one with stripes, one with a hole in the toe.
"What," Megumi said, not moving from his desk chair.
"I need to show you something." Yuji wiggled his fingers in a 'come here' motion. "It's important. Critical, even. Life or death."
Megumi sighed, but he stood up anyway, crossing the small dorm room to stand at the edge of Yuji's bed. He'd learned over the past few months that ignoring Yuji's demands for attention only resulted in more dramatic measures—like Yuji climbing onto his back while he was trying to read, or Yuji stealing his pillow and running away with it, cackling like a maniac.
"What is it?" Megumi asked, trying to sound bored.
Yuji lowered his phone and looked up at him with those big, earnest eyes. The afternoon sunlight filtering through the window caught in his hair, turning it the color of warm honey. "Can I have a goodnight kiss?"
Megumi's brain short-circuited.
His face went hot—burning hot—blood rushing to his cheeks so fast he felt dizzy. He opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again. Nothing came out. His hands curled into fists at his sides, nails digging into his palms.
"Megumi?" Yuji tilted his head, genuinely confused by the silence. "You okay? You look kinda... red. Are you getting sick? Do you have a fever?" He reached out with one hand, aiming for Megumi's forehead. "Let me check—"
"Don't—" Megumi jerked back, his voice cracking embarrassingly. He cleared his throat, trying to force his face back to its normal color, but he could feel it getting worse, spreading down his neck, probably visible even in the dim light. "You want... what?"
"A goodnight kiss!" Yuji said brightly, like he was asking for a juice box or help with homework. He even smiled, all easy confidence and zero self-awareness. "Nobara said her friends back home used to do that all the time. Just a little mwah on the cheek, you know? For good luck! I thought it was cute. Don't you think it's cute?"
Megumi was going to kill Nobara. Slowly. With his bare hands. He was going to summon Divine Dog and have her eat whatever was left.
"Yuji," he said carefully, his voice trembling with the effort of sounding normal. "That's... that's not..."
"Not what?"
"That's not what friends do," Megumi managed, his face somehow getting hotter, if that was even possible. He felt like he was standing in front of an open furnace. His ears were burning. His entire existence was burning.
Yuji frowned, actually frowning, his brow furrowing in genuine confusion. He sat up, crossing his legs and resting his chin in his hands. "Really? But Nobara said—"
"Nobara was messing with you," Megumi hissed, mortification crawling up his spine like a living thing. He could picture it perfectly—Nobara with that evil smirk of hers, spinning some ridiculous story just to see if Yuji would fall for it, knowing full well that Megumi would be the one to suffer the consequences.
"Oh." Yuji blinked. Then his face fell, something vulnerable and disappointed flickering across his features. His shoulders slumped. "Oh. So... you don't want to?"
Megumi's heart did something complicated and painful—something that felt like being squeezed in a fist. Yuji looked genuinely sad, like a kicked puppy, eyes wide and mouth turned down at the corners. And Megumi hated that he cared, hated that he wanted to fix it, hated that his face was still burning and his hands were shaking and he was already losing this battle.
"I didn't say that," Megumi mumbled, looking at the floor. He stared at a crack in the tile, wondering if it would be socially acceptable to crawl into it and never come out.
"What?"
"I didn't say I didn't want to," he repeated, quieter, wishing the ground would swallow him whole, wishing he'd never gotten out of bed this morning, wishing he'd become a farmer in the countryside like his original life plan.
Yuji's face transformed, lighting up with that impossible brightness that made Megumi's chest ache. He bounced on the bed, actually bounced, grinning wide enough to split his face. "Really? You'll do it?"
Megumi's throat went tight. He nodded, a small, jerky motion, and Yuji lit up like sunrise—like someone had flipped a switch inside him and turned all the lights on at once.
"Yay! Come here, come here!" Yuji sat up fully, patting the space next to him on the bed, bouncing slightly with excitement. His hair flopped into his eyes and he didn't even bother to push it away. "Hurry, before I fall asleep! I want to get the full goodnight kiss experience!"
Megumi sat down stiffly, his whole body rigid, his face probably the color of a ripe tomato. He'd never been more aware of his own heartbeat, the sweat on his palms, the way his breath was coming too fast and too shallow. He could feel his pulse in his fingertips, in his temples, everywhere. Yuji turned toward him, smiling that open, unguarded smile, completely oblivious to the fact that Megumi was having some kind of catastrophic internal meltdown.
"Okay, I'm ready!" Yuji announced, closing his eyes and tilting his cheek toward Megumi. He looked like a kid waiting for a birthday present, all anticipation and trust. His eyelashes cast soft shadows on his cheeks. He even puckered his lips slightly, making a small 'o' shape that was probably supposed to be cute but was actually devastating. "Do it!"
Megumi stared at him. Stared at the freckles on his nose, the soft curve of his cheek, the way his hair curled slightly at the ends. This was insane. This was a terrible idea. He was going to die. He was going to spontaneously combust right here on Yuji Itadori's bed, and his last words were going to be some embarrassing squeak that wouldn't even make sense as a dying declaration.
He leaned in, his movements jerky and robotic, feeling like he was operating his body from a great distance. His heart was hammering so hard he was sure Yuji could hear it. He could smell Yuji's shampoo—something cheap and citrusy—and the faint trace of sweat from their training earlier. He was warm. Yuji was always so warm.
Megumi pressed a quick, dry kiss to Yuji's cheek. It lasted barely a second—just a brush of lips against warm, soft skin—but Megumi felt it everywhere, a shock of electricity that traveled straight down his spine and settled somewhere in his stomach. He pulled back so fast he nearly fell off the bed, his face burning, his hands shaking where they gripped the mattress.
"Yay!" Yuji cheered, opening his eyes and beaming at him. He touched his own cheek with wonder, like Megumi had bestowed some kind of magical blessing upon him. "That was nice! Your lips are soft, Megumi-kun! Did you use lip balm or something? They taste like... hmm... mint? Or maybe that's just you. Is that a shikigami thing? Do your lips taste like mint because you summon dogs?"
Megumi made a sound like a dying animal—somewhere between a whimper and a wheeze. He couldn't form words. His brain had stopped functioning entirely.
"Now my turn!" Yuji declared, and before Megumi could process those words, process what they meant, process the implications, Yuji had leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Megumi's cheek.
It was soft. Warm. Yuji smelled like soap and something uniquely him, and his lips lingered for just a second longer than necessary—just long enough for Megumi to register the pressure, the warmth, the way his breath hitched in his throat and got stuck there. Yuji's hand came up to steady himself, resting lightly on Megumi's shoulder, and Megumi thought he might actually faint.
"See?" Yuji pulled back, looking unbearably pleased with himself, his eyes crinkled at the corners. "Isn't that nice? We should do this every night! For good luck! It's way better than just saying goodnight normally. More effective, you know? Like a ritual!"
Megumi stared at him, his face on fire, his heart hammering so hard he was sure Yuji could hear it. Actually, he was sure the people in the next dorm could hear it. It was probably registering on seismometers across Tokyo. "Yuji," he said, his voice barely a whisper, rough and unsteady. "Do you... do you really not understand..."
"Understand what?" Yuji asked, tilting his head, genuinely, truly, painfully oblivious. He yawned, stretching his arms above his head, his shirt riding up to expose a strip of stomach. "Man, I'm sleepy now. That was really relaxing. Like a spa treatment. Do you think we could do foot massages next? I saw in a movie that friends do that too—"
"Yuji," Megumi interrupted, his voice strangled.
"Yeah?"
"Go to sleep."
"Okay!" Yuji flopped back down, arranging himself under the covers with the efficiency of someone who could fall asleep anywhere, anytime. He smiled up at Megumi, soft and drowsy already. "Goodnight, Megumi-kun! Thanks for the kiss! You're the best!"
Megumi stood up on unsteady legs, his face still burning, his entire body feeling like it was vibrating at a frequency only dogs could hear. He made it to the door, hand on the knob, when Yuji's voice stopped him.
"Hey, Megumi?"
He turned, unable to help himself.
Yuji was already half-asleep, eyes heavy, but he smiled—that soft, genuine smile that Megumi secretly cataloged in the part of his heart he didn't let anyone see. "You're really warm," he mumbled. "I like it. Night night."
Megumi fled.
He made it to the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face until his heart rate returned to something resembling normal. He stared at his reflection in the mirror—at his red-rimmed eyes, his flushed cheeks, his hair sticking up in wild directions. He looked wrecked. He looked like he'd run a marathon. He looked like someone who had just been kissed by the boy he was desperately, hopelessly in love with, who thought it was just a friendly goodnight ritual.
He was doomed. He was absolutely, completely doomed.
Megumi pressed his forehead against the cool mirror and groaned.
The next morning, Megumi woke up to the sound of Yuji humming loudly in the kitchen. He'd fallen asleep at his desk sometime around 3 AM, still wearing yesterday's clothes, his cheek resting on an open book about curse techniques that he definitely hadn't been reading.
He dragged himself to the kitchen, bleary-eyed and running on approximately four hours of sleep, and found Yuji making breakfast with the enthusiasm of a morning show host.
"Megumi-kun! Good morning!" Yuji beamed at him, holding a spatula like a microphone. "Did you sleep well? I slept great! Best sleep I've had in weeks! That goodnight kiss really worked!"
Megumi's face went red again, instantly, like someone had flipped a switch. "Don't—don't say it like that."
"Like what?" Yuji asked, genuinely confused, turning back to the stove where he was burning eggs with great enthusiasm. "Like what, Megumi-kun? I'm just saying it worked! We should definitely do it again! Maybe even add more stuff! Like a good morning kiss! For energy!"
Megumi gripped the doorframe hard enough to turn his knuckles white. "Yuji. Please. I beg you."
"What?" Yuji turned, and his expression softened when he saw Megumi's face. He set down the spatula and crossed the kitchen, reaching up to press the back of his hand against Megumi's forehead. "Whoa, you're really warm. Are you getting sick? You were red yesterday too. Maybe you should see Shoko-san—"
"I'm not sick," Megumi managed through gritted teeth, trying not to lean into Yuji's touch, trying not to close his eyes and memorize the feeling of Yuji's hand on his face. "I'm fine."
"You sure? You're all red and you look tired. Did you not sleep?" Yuji's eyes widened. "Was it because of the kiss? Did I do it wrong? Was my technique bad? I can practice—"
"NO," Megumi said, probably too loud, definitely too desperate. "No. Your... your technique was fine. Perfect. I just... I didn't sleep well. That's all."
"Oh." Yuji studied him for a long moment, searching his face for something Megumi prayed he wouldn't find. Then he smiled, soft and sweet, and dropped his hand. "Okay. But if you change your mind about Shoko-san, let me know. I'll carry you there!"
"You couldn't carry me," Megumi muttered, but there was no heat in it.
"Could too! I'm super strong! Want me to prove it?" Yuji flexed, striking a pose that showed off his arms. "Check out these guns! Pew pew!"
Megumi rolled his eyes, but he felt the corner of his mouth twitch. "You're an idiot."
"A cute idiot?"
Megumi didn't answer, but he didn't have to. Yuji was already back to his eggs, humming again, completely unaware that Megumi was watching the way the morning light caught in his hair and feeling his heart do that complicated, painful thing it did whenever Yuji was near.
The problem, Megumi realized over the next week, was that Yuji had absolutely no intention of letting the "goodnight kiss" thing go.
It became a ritual. Every night, without fail, Yuji would appear at Megumi's door—or Megumi's bedside, if they were sharing a room on a mission—and tilt his cheek expectantly, eyes bright, smile wide. "Goodnight kiss, Megumi-kun! For good luck!"
And every time, Megumi would turn red. Every time, his hands would shake. Every time, he would lean in and press a quick, chaste kiss to Yuji's cheek, and every time Yuji would return it with one of his own, soft and warm and lingering just a second too long, completely oblivious to the way it made Megumi's heart stutter.
"You're so warm," Yuji commented one night, after a particularly brutal mission that had left them both exhausted and covered in minor injuries. They were sharing a hotel room, twin beds pushed close together because Yuji claimed he felt safer that way. "Every time I kiss your cheek, you're like... hot. Is that a Fushiguro thing? Are you secretly part fire curse?"
"It's called blushing, Yuji," Megumi said flatly, pulling his blanket up to hide his face.
"Blushing?" Yuji repeated, like he'd never heard the word before. "Why would you be blushing? It's just a goodnight kiss! We do it every night!"
Megumi made a sound like a tea kettle about to boil over.
"Unless..." Yuji paused, and Megumi's heart stopped. "Unless you think it's weird? Is it weird? Am I being weird? Nobara said it was normal but maybe she was lying about that too—"
"It's fine," Megumi said quickly, not wanting Yuji to stop, hating himself for not wanting Yuji to stop. "It's... it's fine. I don't mind."
"Really?" Yuji's face lit up. "So we can keep doing it?"
"Yes," Megumi whispered, looking at the ceiling. "We can keep doing it."
"Yay!" Yuji settled back into his pillows, smiling that devastating smile. "Goodnight, Megumi-kun!"
"Goodnight, Yuji."
They kissed cheeks in the dark, the room lit only by the city lights filtering through the curtains. Yuji fell asleep almost immediately, his breathing evening out into soft snores. Megumi lay awake for hours, staring at the ceiling, his cheek still tingling, his heart still racing.
He was so, so doomed.
It came to a head two weeks later.
They were at Jujutsu High, in the common room, ostensibly studying. Nobara was painting her nails at the table. Megumi was trying to read. Yuji was sprawled across the couch with his head in Megumi's lap, which had become another habit Megumi couldn't bring himself to break.
"Megumi-kunnnn," Yuji whined, looking up at him with those big eyes. "I'm bored. Let's do something fun."
"You're supposed to be studying," Megumi said, not looking up from his book. He was very proud of how steady his voice sounded, considering Yuji's head was in his lap and he could feel the warmth of him through his pants.
"But studying is boring," Yuji complained. He reached up and poked Megumi's cheek. "Hey. Hey. Megumi. Megumi-kun. Look at me."
"What."
"Can I have a kiss?"
Megumi's book fell out of his hands.
Nobara's head snapped up, her eyes going wide. "Excuse me?"
"Not a goodnight kiss," Yuji clarified, completely casual, like he was discussing the weather. "Just a regular one. I'm bored and kisses are fun. Megumi's are especially nice because he's so warm. It's like kissing a space heater, but soft."
Nobara looked at Megumi. Megumi looked at Nobara. Megumi's face was on fire—he could feel it, the heat spreading from his cheeks down his neck, up to his ears. He was probably purple at this point. He felt like he might pass out.
"Yuji," Nobara said carefully, setting down her nail polish. "Do you... do you know what you're saying?"
"Yeah?" Yuji sat up, confused, looking between them. "I want a kiss. From Megumi. Because he's my favorite and his lips are soft. Why, is that weird? You said goodnight kisses were normal—"
"Goodnight kisses on the CHEEK," Nobara interrupted, her voice going high and strained. She looked like she was trying very hard not to laugh. "Between FRIENDS. In some cultures. That I may have exaggerated slightly. I did not say you should just... ask for mouth kisses in the middle of the day!"
Yuji blinked. Then he turned to look at Megumi, really look at him, and his expression shifted. He seemed to finally notice Megumi's face—bright red, sweating slightly, looking like he wanted to die.
"Megumi?" Yuji asked, soft now, uncertain. "Are you... are you okay? You're really red. Like, really really red. Redder than usual. Is this a medical thing? Should I get Gojo-sensei?"
"Yuji," Megumi said, his voice barely audible, his hands shaking where they gripped the couch cushions. "When you ask for... for kisses. Do you... do you think that's what friends do?"
"Isn't it?" Yuji asked, genuinely, truly confused. "I thought... I thought we were friends. Good friends. The kind that kiss. Nobara said—"
"Nobara was MESSING WITH YOU," Megumi and Nobara said in unison.
Yuji went very still. He looked between them again, and slowly, so slowly, something like realization began to dawn on his face. His eyes widened. His mouth opened slightly. He went pale, then flushed pink.
"Wait," he said. "Wait. So... so friends don't... they don't just... kiss? Like, regularly? As a normal thing?"
"No," Megumi whispered, mortified beyond belief.
"Oh," Yuji said. Then, quieter: "Oh. So when I asked... and you said yes... and we kept doing it... that was... that wasn't..."
"It wasn't normal," Megumi confirmed, looking at the floor. He felt like he might cry. Or laugh. Or both. "Most friends don't do that, Yuji."
"Oh," Yuji said again. He was quiet for a long moment, and Megumi couldn't bring himself to look at him, couldn't bear to see the realization turn to disgust, to see Yuji pull away and say oh, I didn't realize, I didn't mean it like that, I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable—
"So," Yuji said slowly, "when you kept saying yes... and you kept turning red... and your hands kept shaking... that was because..."
"Because I'm in love with you, you idiot," Megumi said, the words tumbling out before he could stop them, before he could think, before he could protect himself. "Because every time you ask for a kiss I want to say yes even though I know I shouldn't, because you're oblivious and cheerful and you have no idea what you're doing to me, because I've been in love with you for months and you treat everything like it's just friendly and normal and I can't—I can't keep doing this, Yuji, I can't—"
He stopped, breathing hard, tears pricking at his eyes. He hadn't meant to say any of that. He hadn't meant to confess, not like this, not in front of Nobara, not when Yuji was just realizing that he'd been accidentally leading Megumi on for weeks.
The silence stretched out, heavy and suffocating.
Then Yuji said, very quietly: "Oh."
Megumi stood up, unable to bear it anymore. "I'm going to go. I'm going to—I'll be in my room. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have—forget I said anything—"
"Wait," Yuji said, catching his wrist. His hand was warm, familiar, the same hand that had touched Megumi's face so many times over the past weeks. "Megumi, wait. Please."
Megumi stopped, but he didn't turn around. He couldn't. He was crying now, silent tears tracking down his burning cheeks, and he didn't want Yuji to see.
"Megumi," Yuji said softly. "Look at me. Please."
Megumi turned. He couldn't help it. He never could, when Yuji asked like that.
Yuji was standing now, looking at him with wide, wet eyes. He looked overwhelmed, confused, but not—Megumi searched his face desperately—not disgusted. Not horrified. Just... soft. Open. Vulnerable in a way Megumi had never seen before.
"I didn't know," Yuji whispered. "I didn't realize. I'm so sorry, Megumi. I thought... I thought that's what friends did when they really liked each other. I thought that's what this was. Just... really liking you. As a friend. But now that you say it... now that I think about it..."
He stepped closer, close enough that Megumi could see the tears clinging to his eyelashes, the way his lower lip trembled slightly.
"Megumi," Yuji said, his voice barely audible. "Can I... can I try something?"
Megumi nodded, unable to speak, unable to do anything but stand there and hope.
Yuji reached up and cupped Megumi's face in both hands, his thumbs brushing gently over Megumi's wet cheeks. He was shaking too, Megumi realized. Yuji was shaking.
"I think," Yuji whispered, "I think maybe I don't just like you as a friend. I think... I think maybe I like you like this."
And then he kissed him.
Not on the cheek. Not the quick, dry pecks they'd been trading for weeks. A real kiss, soft and warm and tentative, Yuji's lips pressing against Megumi's with a gentleness that made Megumi's knees weak. It lasted only a moment, barely a breath, but when Yuji pulled back, his face was flushed pink and his eyes were bright with something Megumi had never seen directed at him before.
"Was that..." Yuji asked, breathless. "Was that okay?"
Megumi laughed, a wet, broken sound, and pulled Yuji back in, kissing him properly this time, pouring weeks of longing and confusion and desperate hope into it. Yuji made a surprised noise against his mouth, then melted into it, his hands sliding into Megumi's hair, his body pressing close.
When they finally separated, both breathing hard, Yuji rested his forehead against Megumi's and smiled—that bright, impossible smile, but softer now, more intimate.
"So," he said, "does this mean we can keep doing the goodnight kisses?"
Megumi laughed, really laughed, feeling light for the first time in weeks. "Yeah, Yuji. We can keep doing the goodnight kisses."
"And morning kisses?"
"Yes."
"And afternoon kisses?"
"Yes."
"And just-because kisses?"
"Yes, Yuji, all the kisses—"
"Yay!" Yuji cheered, wrapping his arms around Megumi and squeezing tight. "I get to kiss Megumi-kun whenever I want! Best day ever!"
From across the room, Nobara cleared her throat loudly. "I'm still here, you know. Sitting right here. Witnessing this."
"Then witness this!" Yuji announced, and kissed Megumi again, loud and enthusiastic and completely unashamed.
Megumi turned red—he could feel it, would probably always feel it when Yuji was near—but this time, he didn't try to hide it. He kissed Yuji back, smiling against his mouth, feeling happier than he had in months.
"You're still an idiot," he whispered when they broke apart.
"Your idiot," Yuji corrected, grinning.
Megumi rolled his eyes, but he was smiling too, his face burning, his heart full.
"Yeah," he agreed softly. "My idiot."
And when Yuji kissed him again, Megumi didn't pull away.