Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Yuuji

The rest of the night passed without much incident. Dinner was a little difficult since Yuuji could only eat with one hand, but then again he was always a messy eater. Not like Fushiguro, who even with one hand, managed to eat so prim and proper.

They ended up making extra meatballs, which was fortunate since Kugisaki joined them for dinner after her long day out. Surprisingly, she said nothing about Yuuji and Fushiguro's clasped hands under the table, instead rolling her eyes and not addressing it in favor of going on a tangent about a prank Inumaki and Panda pulled on her earlier.

It was nice. It felt normal, despite the slight tingling in his right hand, palm warm where it pressed against soft skin. Sometimes, he wondered if his callouses bothered Fushiguro. Yuuji's hands had always been a bit rougher from the sports he played when he was younger, coarse and worn down. Fushiguro's hands were smooth and slender, and Yuuji wondered if his own hand was too clunky or clammy to hold. But then again, Fushiguro had never complained.

Honestly, Yuuji was getting used to the casual intimacy of holding hands with Fushiguro. It was a comfortable weight, a reminder that he was there. He felt guilty at how much he enjoyed it since he was certain that it was bothering Fushiguro. Not that he could really tell much about what Fushiguro was feeling. He was an enigma, always putting up a grumpy and indifferent facade; but in rare moments, he would crack a soft smile, though he would wipe it immediately, or a determined ferocity would form in his eyes when fighting a curse. Yuuji was addicted to the boy's minute changes in expression and found himself staring often. Now that they were all but joined at the hip, he found himself getting drawn deeper and deeper into Fushiguro's orbit, and he couldn't tell if he should escape now, or fall further.

After determining that all their normal activities were nearly impossible to accomplish (sparring, training, showering), they decided to just turn in early and watch a movie. Well, Yuuji would watch a movie.

"Come on! I promise it's peak!" Yuuji pleaded. The two were settled in Fushiguro's bed, using his room because Yuuji's was a hot mess. The room itself was fairly bare bones, the bed only adorned with a white duvet and sheets, in contrast to Yuuji's massive collection of stuffies and Spider-man patterned blankets. Rather than intertwined hands, they were pressed arm to arm and tucked under the covers. A laptop lay in front of them, balanced between their knees. Yuuji's cheeks were a little flushed, mostly due to the warmth of the duvet. Fushiguro's arm, however, was pretty cold. He found that Fushiguro's hands often ran cold as well, and the contrast made him feel fuzzy inside for reasons unknown.

"I'm not watching wormo man," Fushiguro declared, instead picking a book from his bedside table. The Rise and Reign of Mammals, Yuuji read on the cover.

He sighed. "You don't get it. It's more than the worm, it's about the enduring power of friendship!"

"Pass."

Giving up, Yuuji cued Human Earthworm Three on the screen, the sounds of fake screaming immediately filling the small room.

Fushiguro remained largely unbothered at first by the strange squelching sounds and cheesy dialogue from the laptop and continued to read. But the pages started turning slower, then stopped, and about halfway through the movie, the book was returned to its spot on the bedside table.

"I can't do this. With all that's happened with the invasion and the subjugation to the higher wormions, I can't find it in myself to live on," the voice sounded from the screen. "Just leave me here. Go on without me."

"I understand," The other lead said, gripping onto his friend's slimy hand. Yuuji gasped, pulling the sheet up to his face. Fushiguro rolled his eyes."I can't force you to live, but I'll be lonely without you."

"This is so dumb."

Yuuji shoved Fushiguro's shoulder, pushing further into where their arms connected. "Shut up! It's a masterpiece! He cares about him so much that he's willing to let him go!"

Fushiguro scoffed. "No love is that unconditional. It's unrealistic. And he basically lost to the wormion's transformation, he can't even be saved if he wanted to."

"You just don't get it," Yuuji said, returning his attention to the screen in front of them.

The movie was nearing an end, with the main character finally saving the other lead, though they both suffered a tragic end.

"God, that movie was so peak."

"It was alright."

"Come on! Their friendship was the key to defeating the earthworm kind! Even though they ended up becoming earthworms themselves," Yuuji defended ardently. If there was one thing he wouldn't accept slander on, it's the Human Earthworm franchise.

"It was cheesy," Fushiguro grumbled, ignoring Yuuji's offended gasp. "But at least they got the homoerotic friendship right."

"The what?" Yuuji asked head tilted in confusion. Was that some horror movie concept he didn't know about? He must be slacking on his Human Earthworm knowledge.

Fushiguro pinched his nose in exasperation. "It was some dumb thing Kugisaki was talking about earlier. I'm not explaining this."

"Please?" He shot Fushiguro his best puppy dog eyes, set on pulling the information out of him for no other reason than he was bored.

"I-" Fushiguro started, cheeks flushed. He tore his gaze away, focusing instead on the laptop in front of them. "Stop looking at me like that. Fine. So you know how Maki-senpai and Kugisaki were like before they started dating?"

"Kugisaki and Maki-senpai are dating?"

Fushiguro sighed. "You really aren't that observant, are you?"

That's not true. Yuuji was very observant. After all, if he wasn't observant, how would he notice the slight furrow in Fushiguro's eyebrows when he was thinking, or that when Fushiguro was in a pleasant mood, he tended to wear his collar a little looser? Or if a dish had too much salt for him, he would eat it in smaller bites? But all of that seemed too embarrassing to admit, so he just responded with an offended, "Hey!"

Fushiguro rolled his and eyes and continued. "Anyways, remember how they would just be with each other all the time? And it was so clear that they were into each other but neither of them would say it?"

Yuuji's mulled over the new information. "No? Wait do you mean all the random flirting and the sitting on each other's laps and stuff?"

Fushiguro sighed at the memory. "Yeah, that. It's like when two people are obviously romantically into each other, but they just. Don't say anything about it. Because they don't want to ruin what they have."

"Why would it ruin what they have? Wouldn't it just be better if they told each other?"

"They're afraid of being wrong," Fushiguro said, finally lifting his eyes to meet Yuuji's. There was a sort of resigned sadness in them, but he couldn't tell why. It stopped him in his tracks, seeing the emotion so raw and open, but as usual, Fushiguro schooled his expression almost immediately.

The wheels started turning in Yuuji's mind, and he could feel the smoke blowing out of his ears. He didn't know that falling in love with your best friend was even an option, but apparently it was? And it happened to Kugisaki and Maki-senpai. And the two leads in Human Earthworm 3.

He thought back to all of those times he spent staring at Fushiguro, watching him, how much of the little space in Yuuji's mind is occupied with dark hair, thick lashes, and green eyes. The fuzzy feeling in his chest as they gently formed meatballs together, two halves of one whole.

Oh.

Fuck.

He might be in a homoerotic friendship with Fushiguro.

Wait a second, idiot, a voice in his head corrected, soundingly eerily similar to a certain dark-haired boy. For it to be a homoerotic friendship, they have to like you back.

It was so hard to tell what Fushiguro was thinking, but with the amount of time spent with him, Yuuji would have noticed if Fushiguro was into him like that, right? They were just best friends who spent a lot of time together.

Ok, so amendment. He had an unrequited crush on Fushiguro. Fuck.

"It's fine," Fushiguro said, probably seeing the invisible smoke pouring out of Yuuji's ears. "Don't think about it too hard, you might kill your last neuron. I'm going to bed, but you can keep watching."

Unbidden, a yawn bubbled up in Yuuji's throat. "Honestly, I'll turn in too."

Next to him, Fushiguro quickly snaked his hand into Yuuji's and placed a long, large pillow between the two of them, gently resting their intertwined hands atop it.

"Why a pillow?" Yuuji asked, staring at the offending piece of bedding.

"Huh?" Fushiguro said, looking between Yuuji and the pillow. "Oh, I don't want you clinging all over me in your sleep. You seem like the type."

"Hey!" Yuuji said, offended for …. no reason honestly. It was true.

Fushiguro eyed him skeptically. "Is it an issue?"

It was an issue. Yuuji didn't know why this pillow divider made him feel so annoyed, so cheated, and yet. What could he even say in his defense, without it sounding like he has weird intentions with his best friend? Which he didn't! He had no such strange intentions, but it would've been nice to maybe cool his always-running hot extremities during the night with Fushiguro's ice blocks of hands and feet, or maybe just spread out a bit on their full bed. It wasn't weird, he swears it wasn't weird, but he doesn't think it'd go over well. "Nah, it's chill," he lied instead.

The other boy nodded and turned to click off the lights, pulling Yuuji a bit with their fingers still threaded together. "Goodnight, Itadori."

"Goodnight, Fushiguro."

That night, all Yuuji dreamt about was black hair, soft hands, and gay thoughts.

Sunlight streamed through the blinds, stripes of light shining into the room. Yuuji barely opened his eyes, snuggling deeper into the duvet and shading his eyes with the sheets.

As all Saturday mornings tend to be, Yuuji lamented getting up, in favor of sleeping just a little longer. It didn't help that Fushiguro had some magic pillow; it was warm and soft, and seemed to move a little bit, fitting perfectly in his arms. The pillow was warm, though a bit cold in places, and Yuuji just snuggled in deeper.

"Sleeping it off" must also ring true in terms of weird curse side effects, because the headache from earlier was nearly gone; he felt as good as new. In fact, he felt better than new, like he'd spent the entire day at a spa, imaginary cucumbers resting over his eyes.

Cracking one eye open, he saw tufts of black near his chest. His brain was a little slow on the uptake, but he realized that this was not actually a pillow and rather the very real, not inanimate form of his best friend (crush?) drooling all over his shirt.

Yuuji's heart started pounding, the morning laziness evaporating from his body. Fuck, fuck, fuck will my dumb fucking heartbeat wake him up?

Fushiguro nestled deeper, and Yuuji wanted to cry. He looked so peaceful in the morning. He memorized the lines of the Fushiguro's face, mouth perched in a slight frown even unconscious. His hair was more wild than usual, sticking out in every direction, hiding his face.

Yuuji couldn't help but brush aside his bangs, gently running his hands through his hair to reveal his eyes.

Fushiguro shifted a bit, his thick dark eyelashes fluttering open slightly.

Yuuji could see him go through a similar realization as he did just five minutes ago, though when they met eyes, Fushiguro's eyes widened in panic and he suddenly pulled back, retreating to the other side of the bed.

Immediately, the blinding pain started up again, making Yuuji squeeze his eyes shut and grimace. He felt a hand on his leg, and instead of his head pounding, it was his heart.

"Sorry," they said in unison. Fingers intertwined again, the two sat up in bed, backs against the headboard. Fushiguro blinked slowly, adjusting to the light in the room, while Yuuji just stared at the ceiling, contemplating what life choices brought him to this moment.

Fushiguro broke the silence. "No one needs to know what happened. The pillow stayed the whole night."

"Agreed."

The two of them went through the motions as normally as they could, putting paste on each other's toothbrushes, and Fushiguro somehow brushed his teeth with his left hand.

Breakfast went about the same. Though their hands were still connected, their morning routine went unchanged. Yuuji would grab the bowls, Fushiguro would grab their cereal, the healthy bran one for himself, the frosted flakes for Yuuji, and they would sit at their tiny common room table. That much didn't change at least, except now Yuuji ate the cereal with his left hand. Yuuji ignored the fluttering in his chest from this morning, and tried to be as normal as possible. Hell, Fushiguro made it look easy, he barely seemed affected.

Kugisaki strolled in late, as she normally does, and put some bread in the toaster. At the sight of their joint hands on the table, she rolled her eyes. "Guys, can you tone it done on the PDA? I just woke up, I don't need you rubbing in how gay you are to everyone else with eyes."

Yuuji tilted his head in confusion, while Fushiguro just groaned. "What? What PDA?" He was pretty sure that was only for people in relationships, right?

She ignored him and continued, spreading jam onto her toast. "Like god, why are you always holding hands? You won't die if you let go. Get a grip. Or a room. Bet you cuddled all night too."

"No we didn't," Fushiguro replied, at the same time Yuuji exclaimed, "How did you know?"

Pushing forward his cereal bowl, Fushiguro slumped over the table in defeat.

Kugisaki placed her plate on the table, and poked at Fushiguro's spiky hair for a nysign of life, to no avail. "Seriously though, when did you guys get so sappy with each other? Just because you're together-"

Yuuji's face felt like a furnace. "We're not."

"What?"

"We're not together." Next to him, Fushiguro has still shown no sign of life, face still hidden in his arms. He hoped that he wasn't too embarrassed by the implication. Yuuji, in contrast, wanted to die in a hole.

Kugisaki looked between the both of them, then at their intertwined hands. "So, the handholding-"

"We got hit by a curse and now we have to touch at all times. How did you not notice this yesterday? And they call me unobservant," Yuuji said, mumbling that last part.

"I did notice," Kugisaki started, annoyance clear in her tone. "I just thought that you guys finally got your shit together, sorry for having faith that you guys could communicate like normal people-"

"Good morning my cute students! Sleep well?"

"Morning, sensei!" Yuuji greeted, happy for the distraction from Kugisaki's wrath, while Kugisaki mumbled a greeting under her breath, clearly still miffed.

"Kill yourself," Fushiguro said, not even bothering to lift his head.

Gojo just laughed and walked over to pat Fushiguro's head, the spikes flattening yet weirdly bouncing back. "Aww Megumin! What troubles you today? Couldn't sleep?"

"Slept fine," Fushiguro mumbled into his arms.

Next to Yuuji, Gojo pulled up a chair, crowding the already tiny common room table. "So Yuuji-kun, how's the curse?"

"It's fine," Yuuji shrugged, eating another spoonful of his sugary cereal. It's not fully a lie, if Yuuji didn't have this extremely inconvenient crush on his best friend, it would've been fine. "Sometimes it's hard to do stuff with my left hand since we have to be holding hands all the time, but other than that, it's manageable."

Gojo rested his head lazily on his hand, his grin a little too wide. "Well, it can't be too bad. After all, you know that touching Megumi's shikigami works too, right?"

At that, Yuuji's eyes widened and Megumi shot up straight. "What?" they exclaimed in unison.

From the other end of the table, Kugisaki started laughing.

Gojo's shit-eating grin never left his face. "I'm sure I told you guys this yesterday."

"No the fuck you did not?" Fushiguro said, staring daggers into their teacher's face.

Kugisaki finally recovered from her last bout of laughter. "Oh, this is pure gold. Really Fushiguro? You and your big brain didn't even consider that one?"

"Technically, the smarter you are the more wrinkly your brain is, not big," Gojo added unhelpfully.

She rolled her eyes. "Fine, your wrinkly brain couldn't figure that out?"

Fushiguro pinched the bridge of his nose, probably to subside the Gojo-induced headache. "Don't call my brain wrinkly, that sounds gross."

"It's ok Fushiguro," Yuuji said, patting their joined hands in solidarity, "I think your brain is really smooth."

For some reason, that set Kugisaki off again in howling laughter.

Fushiguro sighed. "The only person with a smooth brain is you, Itadori."

"Aw, thank you!"

"That wasn't a compliment."

Gojo clapped his hands together, drawing the attention of all three first years. "Well, because of their affliction, Yuuji-kun and Megumin are excused from the mission today!"

"Yes!" Yuuji said, pumping his fist at the same Kugisaki cried, "Unfair!"

Fushiguro seemed unbothered as always. "That's fine by me, I have some reports to finish up anyways."

"Then it's settled!" Gojo smiled, getting up from his seat. "Nobara, come with me, you'll be working with the second years in Shibuya."

Kugisaki perked up at the mention of their other classmates. "Including Maki?"

"Including Maki," Gojo affirmed.

With a newfound energy, Kugisaki sprung up from her seat. "Nevermind, you losers have fun with your reports, I'm going to Shibuya 100 with my girlfriend and Gojo-sensei's credit card."

"You still have to exorcise the curse first," Fushiguro called out as Kugisaki and Gojo left the common room. She just responded by flipping him off.

Now that the two of them were alone, Yuuji became acutely aware of how cold Fushiguro's hand was, and how close they were. His heart really needed to stop beating so fast. Or stop beating at all.

"So," Fushiguro started, turning to Yuuji. His green eyes glinted in the early morning light, and vaguely Yuuji registered how absolutely fucking screwed he was. "Shall we?"

Megumi

Megumi and Itadori returned to the dorms following breakfast. With the newfound information that his shikigami could be used to mitigate the curse, Megumi was quick to summon Divine Dog as soon as they entered his room.

"Why don't you go back to your room, Itadori? You can take Kuro with you, I don't mind," he asked.

The truth was that Megumi was just so overwhelmed, he was hoping for a bit of alone time to think about the events of the past day, maybe think about ways he could try to kill Gojo, and then maybe think about ways he could just wither away instead of facing Itadori any longer.

Waking up that morning practically wrapped in his arms had him in a near-spiraling state. He really, desperately needed some time alone.

He could still feel the lingering touch of their bodies pressed together, and the slight ghosting of his hair from where Itadori had brushed his bangs out of his face, the feeling of calloused, yet gentle fingers carding through his hair. He doesn't know how or when the pillow was thrown off to the side, but Megumi did know that look in Itadori's eyes—one of shock and surprise. And there was no mistaking that slight look of terror hidden behind it all too.

Megumi was such a fool for allowing that to happen.

He had gotten too comfortable, too wrapped up in the ocean of Itadori Yuuji, that he didn't realize just how lost at sea he was. He was so far gone. From the moment he realized that that stupid marriage curse had affected them, he should have pressed harder for Gojo to fix the situation. He should have dragged them out to Kyoto himself to find Ieiri and beg—no, demand—that she get rid of this curse.

She was there to help the reversed cursed technique users in Kyoto, right? Well, then time for a hands-on lesson in its uses and applications, now hurry up and fix this.

It wasn't that Megumi didn't enjoy Itadori's presence. No, the issue was that Megumi was enjoying it too much. He allowed himself the intimate form of contact of interlocking his fingers with Itadori. Sure, you could argue that their intertwined hands meant less pain for their heads, but that didn't explain why it made his heart flutter every time Itadori gave his hand a small squeeze paired with a stupidly bright, lopsided smile.

He could excuse the handholding all he wanted to with that godforsaken marriage curse, but that didn't excuse his feelings.

Not to mention, the intimacy of making those meatballs together, molding them with their hands, standing flush at each other's side. What was that all about? Itadori was never one to shy from contact, but Megumi was. He hated it, especially unprompted, but with Itadori he finds himself craving it.

He was a fool for thinking that a stupid pillow was going to be enough.

He had always tried to not self-indulge in ideas that he knew held no bearings, but it was as if—for just one night—he could have allowed himself to believe that Itadori felt the same way. His awkward shuffles, the nervous laughter, a light dust of pink on his face. It was enough to almost convince Megumi that it could have meant anything more than what it was.

Almost.

Not to mention, previous night's events and him having to explain to Itadori what a homoerotic friendship was. How ironic was that.

"Why would it ruin what they have? Wouldn't it just be better if they told each other?"

"They're afraid of being wrong."

If there really was something between them, any sort of hint or indication that Itadori would or even could like Megumi, it did not show. His misunderstanding of the entire dynamic between the characters in that freak movie was just further proof that Itadori couldn't see something like that between them. Not that he was stupid or ignorant, just that it was clear the thought had never crossed his mind, and that was okay. Factor in their shared look from this morning the moment they locked eyes…

There was no mistaking that look on his face. Itadori was clearly uncomfortable.

"Oh, I guess I didn't really think about that…," Itadori said, trailing off. He was sitting on Megumi's bed with Divine Dog, scratching its ears with his arms wrapped around its neck, practically embracing it in a hug. The sight alone was enough to make Megumi's chest tighten.

He was just so effortlessly captivating.

Megumi cleared his throat a bit, glancing away from the scene before he ended up staring too much. "I just assumed you would want some time alone, since we haven't really gotten a chance to have that."

"I don't mind," Itadori responded. "I like spending time with you, Fushiguro."

Those words pulled Megumi back, unsure of what he was expecting to see. Itadori still sat on the bed, attention focused on the shikigami as if he had just said the most casual thing ever, like maybe I'll have oyakodon for dinner instead of something that had Megumi's mind racing at the plain domesticity in his tone.

As if he really meant it.

Inhaling deeply through his nose, Megumi allowed himself to stare just a little while Itadori's attention was still focused on his Divine Dog. It was still a bit before noon, the morning light shone through the sliding doors and cast a warm glow on Itadori. It lined his hair and traced the outlines of his face, the curve of his nose, the angle of his jaw. Megumi wasn't even aware that he was holding his breath until he felt that familiar, tightening feeling wash over him. He let out a shaky breath as he watched Itadori hold a hand up in the air in hesitation before attacking Divine Dog with an assault of scratches. He laughed heartily as the shikigami bobbed its head around, tongue lolling out of its mouth and panting in excitement. The entire scene left Megumi winded.

He was breathing again, but it still felt like he was suffocating. He was always suffocating in the presence of Itadori Yuuji, he was always willing to.

Megumi allowed himself to stare for just a bit longer, telling himself that this was starting to get sad. He needed to stop this childish pining for his friend and just accept their relationship for what it was—friends. Megumi was always so close, so ready and willing to box those feelings up and shove them on an old shelf in the far crevices of his mind, but then Itadori would go and do something that set him back at square one.

A small yip tore Megumi from his thoughts as he continued to look at Itadori. There was a shimmer in his eyes as he played with Divine Dog, throwing his chin up as it tried to lick and nip at him. He closed his eyes as he laughed, pulling the shikigami in for a hug.

Square one.

Ridiculous creature. It had no qualms about showing its affection for him. No, Divine Dog was practically on top of Itadori now, his laughter filling the room as he fell back shamelessly onto Megumi's bed.

"You're truly the best ever," he said, nuzzling into the dog's coat.

Megumi scoffed and Itadori raised his head to look at him with an eyebrow raised in slight confusion. "He's ridiculous is what he is," he grumbled, gesturing to the pathetic dog—no more pathetic than you right now—which was pawing at Itadori. Its way of asking to be pet more.

Meanwhile, Megumi was still trying to drown out the sound of Itadori's laugh in his head.

"I wasn't talking about Divine Dog," Itadori replied, holding his gaze.

Megumi could feel himself falter and he knew that he must have had some kind of look on his face in response, the small snicker coming from the bed being the telltale sign. With a sigh, he turned back to his desk, ignoring the way he could feel his face heating up. "Whatever," he said, definitely sounding strained, "I'm going to finish these reports. You're free to do as you please."

As he walked to the desk, he could still feel Itadori's gaze on him. He was definitely blushing now, he had to be.

Thankfully, Itadori didn't say anything more and allowed him to work. Even as he typed away on the reports, Megumi still felt distracted and often found himself having to go back and reword things or restart entire sections altogether. Mentally, he was cursing himself for being so distracted.

He occasionally heard a small chuckle coming from the bed, or a light yip from his Divine Dog that was always followed with a shh, Fushiguro is working!, and even when Itadori wasn't trying to be distracting, Megumi still found himself to be completely and utterly unfocused. It wasn't that it was Itadori's fault, but how was he supposed to pay attention to anything when those words were still fresh on his mind.

I wasn't talking about Divine Dog.

It wasn't until he finally mentally slapped himself to focus and get to work and finish the final report that he realized the room had fallen completely silent. After he completed the final touches, he sent the report over and shut his laptop, not even bothering to lock it. Megumi stood and stretched as a slow yawn escaped from his mouth. Noticing the lack of noise, he turned towards the bed and saw that Itadori had fallen asleep with Divine Dog resting its head on his chest.

He watched silently as the slow rise and fall of his breathing caused the dog's head to bob with it. Itadori was lying on his back and had an arm behind his head, propping it up, while the other arm was wrapped lazily around the shikigami. Warm afternoon light streamed in and wrapped them in a soft, golden glow.

If Megumi looked at the scene any longer, he could have convinced himself that it was always meant to be this way. He sighed as he made his way over to the bed, giving a small nudge to the sleeping boy, who didn't budge at all.

"Itadori," he said, "come on, at least move over so I can lay down. I've been sitting at that desk for hours."

Itadori grumbled lightly in his sleep, turning over to his side and hugging Divine Dog even closer. Megumi tried to ignore the pang in his chest as he watched.

"Seriously, Itadori, come on," he said, giving another nudge.

Itadori's eyebrows furrowed for a moment before the slow blinking and flutter of his eyes signaled that he was awake. He looked around for a moment, temporarily confused, before he looked up at Megumi. "Oh, sorry, Fushiguro," he said with a yawn, "I didn't mean to fall asleep."

"It's whatever," Megumi replied, "Move over, I'm sick of sitting at a desk."

Itadori shifted, causing Divine Dog to sit up. They made a space on the bed next to his shikigami while Itadori settled back down on the other side of the bed.

"Here," Megumi said, holding out his hand.

Itadori stared at him for a moment, before looking at his outstretched hand, then back again to him. After a moment of silence, he reached out and took his hand in his own, intertwining their fingers. There was something unreadable in Itadori's gaze as he did so, looking up at him with slight conviction before a sort of resignation took over.

Megumi raised an eyebrow and released his technique. He sighed as his shikigami faded back into the shadows before he took a seat on the bed.

"Why did you release him?" Itadori asked with a slight pout.

"Because my technique has been active for hours," Megumi replied. "Besides, I'm exhausted from all that work. Unlike somebody I know, I like to stay on top of my work."

"Hey!" Itadori gave him a small shove with his shoulder before saying, "I stay on top of my work."

Megumi felt the corner of his mouth quirk up as he said, "I never said that was about you, idiot."

Itadori stuck his tongue out in reply. "I still do my work, you just like to stay ahead!"

"Either way, I got work done and you played and slept all day," Megumi teased. He ignored the way that Itadori faked offense, bringing a hand to his chest with a dramatic gasp.

Megumi rolled his eyes.

"You're so mean, Fushiguro," Itadori pouted, with no real sadness in his tone, "if you wanted to just hold my hand, you could have just asked."

Megumi felt all of the air leave his lungs as Itadori smirked at him. Immediately, his heart started racing and he could feel the blush spreading across his face. Why the fuck would Itadori say something like that? Of course he didn't want to hold his hand, Megumi was just tired and had been sustaining Divine Dog since the morning. That was why he decided to offer his hand to Itadori. It was nearly 3 pm now, and even though he wasn't fighting, he still had to keep channeling the technique, and that takes a lot of work.

So, no, he definitely didn't want to hold Itadori's hand and subject himself to even more inner turmoil and torture. It was just because the last thing he needed was to be cursed and drain his cursed technique.

That was the only reason.

But sitting on the bed next to Itadori, feeling the warmth of his body pressed against his side, the soft squeeze of his hand as a calloused thumb traced his knuckles…

"Shut up, idiot," Megumi said, turning to look away. "I liked you better when you were sleeping."

He could practically hear the smile break across Itadori's face as he said, "So you like me then?"

"You wish."

Megumi grabbed his book from the bedside table and immediately flipped to the page he was last reading. It was already bad enough that he never got to actually finish the book like he intended, instead spending his evening watching the dumbest movie he had ever seen, but now he could barely focus on content. Everything was just words on a page, and he was sure that he had read this section before. He might as well have just been staring at a brick wall, nothing was retaining.

Not when Itadori was still so close to him, uncharacteristically silent.

Megumi felt a shift and furrowed his brows as he tried to force himself to concentrate. Sea level was always rising and falling—the rise and fall of Itadori's chest—in a pulsating rhythm.

He leaned further into the book and felt another shift on the bed, ignoring the way that their bodies were pressed closer together. Species are always changing as their environments change—Itadori's adjustment to the jujutsu world—this is Darwin's evolution by natural selection.

Megumi shook his head and blinked his eyes a couple of times before attempting to return to the book, but another shift pulled his attention away.

"Itadori," he grumbled.

"Sorry."

Life was always diversifying this way, branching like a tree that has been growing for over 4 billion years.

Megumi could still feel Itadori's gaze, so he bookmarked his page and looked up with a sigh. "What is it?"

Itadori blushed, as if he was caught doing something he wasn't supposed to. Immediately, Megumi was nervous. What was going on?

"Oh, uh," Itadori tore his gaze away and brought his other hand up to the back of his neck, "I don't know…?"

Megumi raised an eyebrow as he stared at the boy before him. He was aware of the distance—or lack thereof—between them as Itadori looked at everything in the room except for him. The sudden feeling that he had done something wrong washed over him. He stared at the other boy silently and watched as his gaze fell to his lap.

"Itadori, is everything okay?" The last thing that Megumi wanted was to have done something wrong here and make Itadori feel bad. Not when he was the last person who deserved that sort of thing.

Itadori stared at his lap as a small laugh escaped his mouth. It wasn't his normal laugh, though, instead being something between a scoff, an exasperated sigh, and a dry chuckle. It sounded wrong. "Yeah, Fushiguro," he said. "I just… I've had a lot on my mind."

Megumi shifted, setting his book back on the table before turning to Itadori completely. He squeezed his hand in reassurance as he asked, "Do you want to talk about what's wrong?"

Itadori didn't respond for a moment, his eyes darting around the covers as he lost himself in thought. He weighed the options more as Megumi waited patiently for a response. With a sigh, he shrugged. "I honestly don't know."

Megumi leaned a little closer, ignoring the way that he tensed as their shoulders brushed. Itadori didn't seem too phased by it.

"You don't know what's wrong, or you don't know if you want to talk about it?"

"Both," Itadori raised his head to meet Megumi's gaze. The light streaming in from the sliding doors reflected off his eyes, turning brown into a comforting, honey-golden glow. Megumi was quick to notice the tightening in his jaw as he stared at him, at his soul. It was as if Itadori was trying to read him, searching for something in Megumi's eyes that he wasn't sure was actually there.

And Megumi was just speechless. When Itadori met his gaze, their faces barely inches apart, he could hear his own breathing falter as he looked back at the other boy. There was a bout of silence as he registered what Itadori had said. There was something plaguing his mind, but he was too wrapped up in his stare to fully register it. Not when he could feel Itadori's breath on his face, warm and soft. Not when he could hear his own heartbeat hammering in his ears.

"Why?" Megumi asked. His voice was soft, really soft, as if this moment was something special. As if this was something private and precious between them. It felt like the type of moment where you don't speak above a whisper, the kind of moment where you hold your breath in anticipation for the next words. But it couldn't be that way, right?

Why did it feel that way?

It felt like this was something more than just a friend comforting another friend. There was a charge in the air as he peered into those familiar brown eyes. He searched for the answer in them, darting back and forth as Itadori looked back at him. He didn't care how close they were, it felt like Megumi himself was close to something big.

"I'm afraid of being wrong," Itadori finally whispered. It was just loud enough that Megumi had barely caught it.

But he caught it.

Megumi felt his breath hitch at those words. He knew what that meant, he knew what Itadori was saying. How could he not immediately recognize his own words being thrown back at his face? How could he not know what that meant? Looking into Itadori's eyes, it was as if those five words made everything that was unreadable readable. A look of doubt, nervousness, wonder, admiration filled those honey pools that Megumi could spend all day swimming in. He didn't even realize that Itadori was now looking at him expectantly, waiting for a reaction, a response, a rejection…?

But Megumi was never good with his words in that sense. He couldn't exactly explain how or when he noticed that Itadori would aways occupy a space in his heart, a space that was only ever really filled by one other person. It wasn't like he could sit here and pour his heart out to him either, not when Itadori's gaze was so strong. Megumi could feel his mind shutting down at the sheer overwhelmingness of it all.

Everything zeroed in on the boy before him, looking into his eyes with slight confusion and apprehension, as if he expected Megumi to do anything other than kiss him.

Pink hair, brown eyes, bright smile.

Megumi barely registered his own hands coming up to grab Itadori's shirt, his fists tightening around the fabric as he pulled him in.

Hoodies, shorts, sneakers.

He barely registered the crash of their lips together, the feeling of Itadori's mouth pressed against his own as he furrowed his brow and only thought about one thing.

Laughs, quips, jokes.

Everything in his mind was just Itadori Yuuji, Itadori Yuuji, Itadori Yuuji.

Somewhere far, far away from where he was, Megumi could feel Itadori tense at the sudden contact. There was a shift as everything came crashing down, the way rocks of a cliff crash into the sea.

Megumi froze, suddenly aware of what he had done.

Just as he was going to pull away, Itadori's hands flew up to cup his face, firm but gentle, a clear message: stay.

And then he was kissing him back.

He was kissing him back.

Megumi pressed further, tilting his head and deepening the kiss with a small, content sigh. His hands loosened the grip on Itadori's shirt, instead snaking over his shoulders and pulling him closer. Itadori responded in kind, with one hand resting on the nape of Megumi's neck and the other falling to his back.

They kissed with fervor, both of them communicating with a burning passion I have been wanting this. Megumi could feel himself getting lost in the kiss, the push and pull, like waves rising and receding. He didn't care if he was out of breath, suffocating. He was always suffocating in the presence of Itadori Yuuji, he was always willing to. It was as if everything was so much clearer now. He felt near euphoric, the pain in his head having been long forgotten about.

The kiss slowed into a soft, relaxed rhythm, like spilling waves that sloped the ocean floor. Itadori brought a hand back up to Megumi's face, the pad of his thumb tracing lazy circles beneath his eye, as they slowly parted. They stared at each other for eons, time fading away from them as a grin broke out across Itadori's face.

Megumi felt his own mouth curl into a small smile. "Sorry," he said, though he made no movement to pull away.

"No you're not," Itadori said with a teasing tone.

"No," he agreed, "I'm not."

The sudden sound of knocking caused them to jolt apart. Megumi looked at Itadori with a look of confusion, only to be met back with a mirrored expression.

"You two better be decent in there!" Gojo's voice rang through the door, and despite being muffled, was just as annoying as ever.

Sighing, Megumi got up and made his way towards the door.

"Wait!" Itadori called out, causing Megumi to spin around.

"Megumi, Yuuji, what's going on in there?"

Megumi looked at Itadori expectantly.

"I thought…" Itadori trailed off, slowly bringing a hand to his head. He sat for a moment before looking back over at him, "My head doesn't hurt."

Megumi's eyes widened at the realization.

His head didn't hurt.

Was it because of the kiss? Or did the curse just finally wear off?

Megumi walked back over to the bed, still standing, as he took Itadori's hand in his own. There was no pain, no change in the feeling in his head, nothing. He didn't even react to the sound of the door opening as he tried to think back to the last time he felt pain.

Gojo sauntered in with a mildly annoyed-looking Ieiri trailing in behind. "Well, you are decent!"

Itadori raised his hand in a small wave.

"Look who's back! I brought Shoko here to fix your curse," Gojo said. "The only way to break it is through a specialized reversed curse technique."

That blindfolded idiot, always late. Megumi didn't even look his way or respond.

"Of course, there was another way to break it, but there was no way you two were going to do that," he continued to ramble. Itadori's face coincidentally turned a deep shade of red. "Nobara and Maki, maybe. But you two? Hah!"

Megumi sighed. How cliche.

Stupid marriage curse.

Tightening the grip on Itadori's hand, he pulled the other teen out of the bed. With a small yelp, he scrambled up, settling next to Megumi.

"Ready?" Ieiri asked, looking at them with a bored expression.

Gojo looked back and forth between them, a bout of understanding seemed to flash across his stupid face. "Oh, I see. It's like that."

Megumi felt his face redden, and Itadori opened his mouth to speak before he squeezed his hand—maybe a bit harder than he meant to, based on his small wince.

Gojo looked at them before smiling stupidly, his eyes hidden behind that dumb blindfold. "Let's get going! It seems like we're not needed here, Shoko. They seemed to find a… solution."

Gojo and Ieiri led the way out of the room, stepping through the entryway.

"Um, Fushiguro?" Itadori asked, confused as he walked with Megumi up to the door.

The two adults turned back to them, the idiot now standing in the doorway with Ieiri behind him.

"Megumi," Gojo started, still wearing that shit-eating grin, "why do you look so angry? Weren't you the one who wanted to be rid of this curse?"

"Kill yourself," Megumi spat, grabbing the door and slamming it shut.

He ignored the howling laughter coming from the other side of the door and noted the small receding footsteps of Ieiri returning to her office. Eventually, the sound of Gojo's stupid laugh faded away as well.

Megumi turned back to Itadori, still holding his hand, and looked at him as a blush spread across his face.

"That had to have been on purpose," Itadori said, said staring at the door with a look of defeat.

It definitely was, knowing Gojo.

And Megumi definitely was going to kill him for it.

He looked at Itadori, his expression was slightly exasperated and his face was flushed. Megumi chuckled as he gave his hand a small squeeze.

But he'll definitely worry about that another time.