Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

“I wish we could stay like this forever,” Yuji confesses, body tangled up in Megumi’s on their couch. “Maybe I should skip my match.”

The night they spend together is a lazy one, ordering take-out and eating it in the living room as they watched B-rated movies, reverting to their old dynamic seamlessly as if they didn’t have weeks of hurt and pain interrupt their routine. Things have always been easy like that with Yuji, though, and it’s even easier now that there’s no longer anything left to hide or elephants taking up their living room.

Now, they can just be.  

Being with Yuji is nice, their bodies entwined, intimate without being inherently horny for once. Yuji wraps his arms around Megumi languidly, holding him close. Carding fingers through Megumi’s hair, blunt nails scraping against his scalp, an oddly comforting motion. Neither of them is really paying attention to the movie, mostly just lost in each other’s warmth. 

Megumi burrows himself closer into the comfort Yuji so easily emanates, looking up at Yuji with narrowed eyes. 

“You obviously won’t skip your final match when you’re their star player just to watch crappy movies with me at home,” Megumi replies tonelessly. He gets up, cupping Yuji’s cheeks. “Go out tomorrow and play your best tomorrow – for better or for worse, win or lose – but make it count so you don’t regret it.”

“Megumin…” Yuji sucks in a deep breath, nodding soberly. “Did you realize that you sounded just like a sports shounen anime protagonist?”

“I did not,” Megumi scoffs. “You’re so rude.”

“You did!” Yuji insists. “Are you going to start preaching to me about the highs and lows of high school basketball now?”

Megumi bites down hard on his bottom lip because he certainly won’t laugh at the lame comment that Yuji just made. “I hate you.”

“Come on, Megumin.” Yuji wraps his hands around Megumi’s middle, bringing him in close. “You’ve got to admit that was at least a little funny.”

Megumi’s bottom lip quivers, but he remains resolute. 

“No.” Megumi shakes his head.

“Are you sure about that?”

Yuji’s fingers start to roam over Megumi’s waist, erratic, searching. No, surely Yuji wouldn’t play so dirty –

But then Yuji’s fingers find the soft part of his stomach and Megumi keels over, feeling his lips part, a breathless huff falling from his lips. Yuji, the evil heathen that he is, picks up on it because of course he does. Pokes at him harder, fingers roaming over his stomach, tickling him in earnest. 

Megumi hates himself for the peel of laughter that falls from his lips before he can raise his hands to his lips. It’s too late, though, the damage has been done. 

“What was that?” Yuji prods. “I think that was you laughing at my endless charm.”

Megumi collapses onto the couch, finally letting the laughter fall free, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. He tries to glare at Yuji, but he can’t even open his eyes from how hard he’s laughing, stilling when Yuji’s body brackets his own. He tickles Megumi until he’s breathless, till his stomach cramps and his face aches from the laughter. 

He decides to put an end to it, though, by pinching Yuji’s side hard enough until he finally lets go of him with a pained groan. 

“Hey, you were playing dirty.” Yuji massages his side with a petulant frown. “Not fair.”

“Says the guy that tickled me like we’re back in elementary school,” Megumi scoffs. 

“Learn to live a little, Megumin.” Fortunately, however, he finally lets his hands rest. He lies down partially atop Megumi, but not fully so as to not suffocate him, smiling at Megumi softly. He dips down, claiming Megumi’s lips lazily. “But I won’t let you go. Wanna hold you a little longer to make up for lost time.”

“Sappy,” Megumi says, wrapping his arms around Yuji in like despite his criticism. “You shouldn’t say shit like that if you don’t wanna get bullied.”

“Always a sap for you.” Yuji hums. “I know you love it.”

He does. He won’t give Yuji the pleasure of confirming that for him, however. 

“Go to the match tomorrow, Yuji,” Megumi says again. He knows Yuji is a bit reckless, someone who runs purely on emotion, and would probably justify skipping his final match just to spend a few more hours with Megumi. Even if that decision would come at his own expense. “We have all the time in the world to spend together afterwards.”

Yuji brushes Megumi’s fringe back, exposing his forehead, before pushing his hair back. Yuji seems to find great comfort in playing with Megumi’s hair, often brushing his fingers through the soft dark strands. Megumi, in turn, finds it similarly comforting, enjoys Yuji’s touch. The only touch he welcomes, the only touch that doesn’t make his skin crawl. Rather, he craves it, actively seeks it out, misses it when it’s gone. 

And, oh had Megumi missed Yuji’s touch these past weeks. 

“You’re still going to come to the game tomorrow?” Yuji asks. 

Megumi still hates basketball, but there’s no doubt in his mind about attending. Even when they weren’t talking, Megumi still planned on attending the game because he knew how much it meant to Yuji that he be there during such a critical moment. 

“Naturally.”

Yuji smiles at that, something bright and beautiful. 

“I’ll be sure to win then to make it worth your time.”

“It would be worth my time even if you lost,” Megumi remarks lightly. 

Yuji’s gaze softens at that, swallowing. His finger trails down from Megumi’s hairline to play with the black studs in his ear. Megumi’s breath hitches a little at the small movement, his ears are sensitive, but Yuji doesn’t seem to notice. 

Or at least, he hopes he doesn’t notice, because he knows that Yuji wouldn’t let him live it down. 

“Will you celebrate with me afterwards if I win?” Yuji prompts, looking up at Megumi with those puppy dog eyes he could never resist. “Cheer me up if I lose?”

“Of course.” Megumi flicks his chin. “You don’t even have to ask.”

“We could —make a date out of it?” Yuji continues. 

Warmth floods Megumi’s cheeks at the question, and he hopes he doesn’t look too eager when he nods, heart beating so fast in his chest that he’s sure that Yuji can hear it. He doesn’t want to come across as a pushover, but he knows that’s something Yuji is worried about. Megumi’s tendency to fixate on him, to put Yuji first before himself. And maybe that’s true, but as someone who’s so used to putting himself before everyone else because of the way he was brought up, there’s something refreshing about putting Yuji first. 

“Let’s do it,” Megumi whispers, brushing a kiss against Yuji’s forehead. “I’m already looking forward to it.”

And the way Yuji smiles whenever he does something he wants – that winsome, boyish smile that brings a flurry of butterflies in the base of his stomach to life – makes Megumi want to keep doing things that will make him smile like that again and again. Yuji should always be smiling, looks prettier when he smiles. 

“It’s a date then.”

Megumi’s heart sings in his chest at the prospect of a date with Yuji, his chest buoyant with a light contentment he hasn’t felt in a long time.

Megumi sits in the crowd the following day, the same way he has many times before. He’s seated in the same position in the bleachers, next to the same people from every other time, watching the basketball game play out despite hardly understanding it. 

And yet, everything feels different now. 

Rather than pining hopelessly for a ‘straight’ jock who would never look his way, he sits in the crowd while wearing the sweater that he got him, a boyfriend rather than an onlooker. Every time he hears the crowd go wild when Yuji scores, a scarily efficient ace for his team that he is, he’s filled with a surge of confidence. The girls next to him in the bleachers are still thirsting over Yuji because he’s ‘so hot’ and ‘so cool and athletic, he could bench them if he wanted to’ . They wish he would look their way, and maybe swoon a little when he does. 

But this time, Megumi knows that Yuji isn’t looking at them, he’s looking at him. He waves at Megumi from the court between plays, a wide and exuberant smile on his face, because of course, he wasn’t going to lose one of his biggest games of the year. The exaltation on his face is contagious, Megumi’s lips tilting upwards, returning his wave with a small salute of his own. 

The girls look at him curiously, and a small, petty part of him, preens at the attention. Because yes, Itadori Yuji, the gorgeous jock and golden boy extraordinaire, is his boyfriend. He belongs to Megumi. And that is a badge he will wear with honor. 

“Gosh, the look on your face is so fucking creepy,” Nobara says, interrupting Megumi’s stream of thoughts. Maki, by her side, sniggers at him. “Can you at least pretend to not be so smug that you bagged Itadori?”

Megumi rolls his eyes, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose to hide the warmth that floods onto his cheeks at being called out so blatantly, turning his attention back to Nobara, Maki’s satanic girlfriend and Yuji’s best friend. He supposes that if he’s going to be dating Yuji, and not disowning his own family any time soon, he should learn how to deal with her. 

“I suppose Yuji already told you?” Megumi muses, fisting his hands to stop himself from giving her the bird. Cordial. Yes, that is what he will be. 

“Yep,” Nobara says, popping the ‘p’. “Took him long enough to finally make a move, he was so dense about it.”

Megumi’s eyes widen at this. “You knew that Yuji…had feelings for me?”

“Of course I did, I’m not as stupid as he is,” Nobara says, leaning back against the bleachers and crossing her ankles idly. “He wouldn’t shut up about you or about how pretty you were. I’d never seen him so down bad before.”

The words make Megumi feel impossibly hot underneath his own skin, the heat festering underneath his skin. He plays with the hem of his sweater, the soft knit fabric soothing his nerves. 

It’s not like he’d doubted that Yuji felt the same way about him, but there’s just something about it being stated so plainly for him.

“I see,” Megumi says. Then, to deflect from the lightness bubbling in his chest, he asks a question he knows he will regret asking because he is nothing if not a masochist. “Then why did you try to set him up with that girl in front of me if you knew?”

“Because I didn’t know if you were a good match for him or not,” Nobara says, crossing her arms over her chest. Maki stiffens by her side, but she doesn’t say anything, though Megumi knows her attention isn’t on the game at all. “You never came out to any of his post-game parties, never bothered to meet his friends, and just wanted to monopolize him for yourself. It seemed like Itadori was obsessed with you, but I couldn’t tell if you actually liked him or if you were just jerking him around.” She casts Megumi a sidelong glance that he can’t quite decipher. “Ozawa, on the other hand, really liked him. I knew she would treat him right.”

Megumi clenches his hands, bristling at the accusation. It feels unfounded, a whole lot of conclusions drawn from nothing. What irritates him even more is the idea that it was most likely Nobara who put all those ideas in Yuji’s head, but then again, they weren’t entirely wrong. While Megumi has his misgivings about Nobara, he acknowledges that she’s a good friend to Yuji, that she’s trying her best to look out for him. 

And that’s why he needs her to understand that his love for Yuji is genuine, needs her to support their relationship.  

“I like him,” Megumi says, downplaying his own emotions because he doesn’t want to make a fool of himself in front of Nobara or Maki. “I do. I’m not —I’m not leading him on, I wouldn’t.”

The crowd roars around them as Yuji scores a three pointer from what seems like the middle of the court, but Megumi can barely pay the game any mind right now. Even with Yuji shining like a small sun on the court, every person in the bleachers talking about him, the commentators overhead narrating about Itadori Yuji’s impeccable shot. Rather, he’s waiting for Nobara to reply. 

“I know,” Nobara says softly. “I know that now, after I saw how hurt you were that night at the haunted house. I’m sorry about that by the way, Maki told me how hurt you were by it all.” Nobara’s jaw clenches, her eyes glazed over as Yuji hugs one of his teammates on the court. “Itadori is a nice guy, but he’s also gullible, and falls for bullshit easily, so I have to look out for him. I just needed to see for myself that you —that you cared about him, that you would treat him right.”

“And have I passed your verdict yet?”

“Can’t say yet.” Nobara shrugs. “But I think you’re committed at least.”

“I am,” Megumi says, not an ounce of hesitation in his voice. “I would never try to hurt him. I promise.”

And he wouldn’t. At least not intentionally. Yuji means too much to him, and he would rather cut himself out of the picture if it meant making Yuji happy than to cause him any heartache. He will always put Yuji first before himself. 

“Yeah, I can vouch for this kid,” Maki finally interjects, pointing a thumb at Megumi. “He’s a little emo and very gloomy, but his heart is in the right place.”

Nobara nudges him, laughing loudly in a way that grates on Megumi’s ears. 

“You’re kinda serious, but I guess you’re not that bad,” Nobara muses. She offers him her hand. “I guess I’ll lay off the protective best friend role for now until proven otherwise. Let’s start over, Fushiguro.”

Much to Megumi’s surprise, all of the resentment he used to bear towards Nobara sloughs off him, a small smile forming on his face as he takes her hand. A peace offering.  He doesn’t know if they would ever become friends, but at least it can be the start of something civil. 

“Sounds good to me, Kugisaki.”

“Okay, enough with all the serious talk in the middle of the game!” Maki exclaims, clapping her hands together. “I fucking hate basketball, but at this point, I would rather watch that than watch Megumi act like he’s the main character of a sappy soap opera.”

Megumi and Nobara both roll their eyes in unison, and when Nobara makes a comment making fun of player 11's funky green hair looking so atrocious that she can hardly stand looking at him, Megumi agrees and joins in. Nobara's eyes glimmer with excitement, the game becoming much more fun with their bitchy commentary to pass the time, and Maki can only shake her head with thinly veiled amusement. 

Maybe, Megumi thinks, Nobara isn't too bad after all. 

Naturally, Yuji’s team wins. He stands in the middle of the court, holding a golden trophy bigger than his own head, a euphoric grin painted over his face as his teammates laud him like he’s their savior. 

There is no surprise about it, because Yuji is simply too adept a player. Megumi doesn’t know much about basketball, but even he can understand from how dynamic Yuji is around the court and how many points he racks up, that he has an immense amount of talent that many would envy. And yet, his teammates all hug him and shower him with affection, another reminder of how easy Yuji is to love. 

And while he’s in the midst of being cheered as some sort of basketball messiah by his teammates, Yuji’s eyes find his own in the crowd, and he smiles at him with so much affection that Megumi melts. Part of him wishes that he could walk up to Yuji while he’s in the middle of all those people, embrace him like jocks’ girlfriends always do, but he doesn’t have the guts to do it. Hell, he can’t even fathom attending any of their hangouts, too antisocial to imagine himself in any kind of party setting with all the loud noises and heaps of alcohol running through his veins. 

Instead, he waves at him on his way out and waits, embracing the cold weather with a cigarette to offer him some warmth. He’ll let Yuji bask in his own victory with his teammates for a little while longer before their…date. 

It feels a little surreal, Megumi thinks, smoke and water vapor mixing together to form a wispy cloud in the crisp night air before it dissipates. He’s actually going on a date with the boy he loves so much. He has no idea what they will do, but even if they did nothing but hang out at a CVS and ate instant ramen, Megumi thinks he would be content. 

“Megumin,” Yuji breathes, pulling him from his thoughts. “You should have waited inside.”

Megumi elects not to tell Yuji about his own antisocial reasons for waiting outside, lest he worry about him, and waves his cigarette instead. “Can’t smoke inside.”

He turns towards Yuji, drinking him in properly. He’d showered, his hair wet and his cheeks bright pink from the hot water and likely, the adrenaline that’s still pumping in his veins. He’s also wearing a pastel pink sweater that matches Megumi’s black sweater, which makes Megumi’s heart flutter. 

He can’t believe that he’s actually happy about wearing matching couple sweaters with his boyfriend. His past self would have vomited at the thought, yet here he is, so giddy that he can hardly contain his own happiness. 

“Are you sure that you don’t want to go to the after party?” Megumi asks, stubbing his cigarette underneath his shoe. He’s wearing converses today, because he certainly won’t have a repeat of the Doc Martens fiasco. “You guys just won and you were the MVP of the match.”

This is Megumi’s best effort at being gracious, at not being selfish. Of course, he would be disappointed if Yuji decides to leave, but he wants to give him the option of hanging out with his friends. There will always be next time even if Yuji goes to the party now. 

“It was a team effort,” Yuji immediately dismisses him, smiling as he brings Megumi in closer so he can rest his arms around Megumi’s neck. Megumi, even without platform shoes on, still has some inches on Yuji, so he has to look down to meet his eyes. He also enjoys how he towers over him despite how much stockier Yuji is than him overall. “And besides, I’d rather hang out with you. Our first date.”

Thank God he chose me, a treacherous voice whispers at the back of his head. 

“Would it be embarrassing if I said I already marked the day in my calendar?” Megumi murmurs. 

“No.” Yuji shakes his head. “Because I’ve already done the same, too.”

Megumi has a retort ready about how sappy they’re both being when Yuji leans in to press his lips against him, a sensual kiss that has Megumi leaning into it, letting Yuji breathe him in. He’s a little nervous because he’s sure he tastes like cigarettes right now, but Yuji doesn’t seem put off by it, kissing Megumi with as much fervor as if it’s the first time they kissed. Kisses him so hard that Megumi’s toes are curling, his glasses sliding down his nose, his thoughts already starting to turn into an incoherent mess. 

He’s about to do something really embarrassing, like begging for more, when Yuji pulls away. His own lip gloss is smeared onto Yuji’s lips, a look that makes the base of Megumi’s stomach twist into a coil of knots. He wants to kiss him again, taste his own cherry lip gloss on his lips, could swear it tasted sweeter on Yuji —

The smarmy grin on his face is what snaps Megumi back to reality. “Should we start our date then?”

Megumi brings his fingers up to touch his swollen bottom lip, his lip gloss already smudged from the bruising kiss. “I thought kisses were supposed to be at the end of the date?”

“I think it’s a little too late for that with us.” Yuji laughs. “Can’t help it either when you look so pretty.”

“Don’t call me that.”

He elects not to include the second half, that his heart can’t take it whenever Yuji praises him like that. Because isn’t that what Yuji called him the first time he kissed him? A memory that’s seared into his brain, unable to ever forget it, but he doesn’t need that reminder right now of all times. 

If he dwells over it, then he’ll remember everything else that followed, and the date will end before it even begins. 

 “Where are we going? You wouldn’t tell me last night,” Megumi continues, wanting to distract himself from his own thoughts. 

“It’s nothing huge.” Yuji shrugs, looking oddly bashful for a moment. “I don’t want you to get your hopes up only to be disappointed.”

“I wouldn’t. I mean, I wouldn’t be disappointed,” Megumi tries to reassure him, hesitating for only a moment before he takes Yuji’s hand in his own. His hand is warm, bigger and coarser from years of playing sports, contrasting against Megumi’s own slender one. He’s always wanted to hold his hand like this, and now, he finally has the chance to. “If I’m with you, it doesn’t matter where we are. Whether it’s at home or at a dingy conbini.”

Yuji squeezes his hand, looking at him with an expression he can’t read in the darkness of the night, the street lamps flickering overhead engulfing his face in shadows. 

“You’re a lot more forthcoming now,” Yuji says after a long stretch of time, rubbing the nape of his neck with his unoccupied hand. “Usually, you wouldn’t be so…open with me, I guess.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Megumi asks softly.

“Not at all.” Yuji intertwines their fingers together. “I like it. I like you liking me, it makes me happy.”

The words overwhelm Megumi with an unsolicited warmth, and he nods, squeezing Yuji’s hand. Winter is creeping in on them, but somehow, Megumi feels as if it’s the hottest day of summer with how flustered he’s feeling. 

“Well you’re in luck then.” Megumi bumps his shoulder against Yuji’s. “Because I like you a lot.”

“Just like?” Yuji teases. 

“Stop fishing for compliments.” Megumi rolls his eyes. “Lead the way —what was it they called you earlier? —oh, yes, Basketball Boy Wonder, Itadori Yuji.”

“Hey, don’t call me that!” Yuji gawks, his face turning a deep shade of red that rivals the color of his hair. When Megumi doesn’t answer, Yuji tugs on his hand, whining, “ Megumin, come on!”

Megumi stifles a laugh, a buoyant contentment bubbling in his chest. 

Yuji takes Megumi to a vintage music cafe, one that’s more retro diner than it is a cafe, and Megumi falls in love with it instantly.

It’s not too far away from their campus, they only had to walk for twenty minutes or so, but he’d never even heard of it before. The place is mostly empty save for a few people who are sitting in the booths, but it’s got a cozy vibe with the soft lighting and the laminated music posters that decorate the walls. There are guitars hung on the walls, too, and a stage where someone is playing a soft acoustic song live. Megumi feels like a child in a candy shop, letting Yuji go off on his own to order the food and drinks while he browses the cafe’s collection of vinyls and CDs. Here, he finds his favorite American and Japanese rock bands, drooling when he finds a signed vinyl from the Foo Fighters and another from ONE OK ROCK. To the corner, there are several pairs of headphones so that people can listen to whatever music they want to. There’s even a vintage jukebox. 

This cafe-diner is now his new favorite establishment, he will never go home, will camp out here forever. Heaven on earth for a gothic nerd like him. 

While Megumi doesn’t have a record player of his own, he still enjoys looking at the used vinyls of all his favorite bands and artists. He touches the jackets of each one, some worn down from years of being listened to, telling stories he will never know, but can tell that they were very loved. He makes a mental note to ask Gojo to get him a record player this Christamas, because Toji is too stingy to get him anything, but Gojo might not mind. 

“Megumin.” Yuji touches his elbow. “I hate to pull you away from your loves, but the food is out.”

Megumi turns to him, nodding as he reluctantly pulls away from the vintage vinyls. He sits across from Yuji in a booth that reminds him a bit of the retro diners he’d see in old western movies with Yuji, sinking in the plush chair. In front of them, there’s two burgers and a mountain of cheese fries, and soda. The food smells great, looks it, too. The ambient music from the open mic artist is nice, too. Megumi isn’t too big on acoustic music, but he might ask the artist if they have a Spotify or Soundcloud he could follow later. 

“Gosh, I’m starving ,” Yuji groans, the sound bordering on pornographic. He takes his burger, burying his face in it with one large bite that makes half of it disappear in one go, uncaring of how his face gets stained with burger sauce. “I’m always like this after a match.”

“I can imagine,” Megumi muses, trying to determine how to eat his own burger without making a mess of himself and his makeup on this date. How embarrassing would it be if he used a fork and knife to eat a burger? “But you should eat as much as you want, you’ve deserved it after working so hard all season.”

Yuji hums around a loud mouthful of food, but he watches Megumi as he swallows his food. 

“Do you like the place?” Yuji asks him once he gets his food down. 

“I love it,” Megumi amends, positively brimming with energy as he looks around him, still overwhelmed with how perfect the establishment is. “How did you find a place like this?”

Yuji grins at that, shoulders sagging in visible relief. “I looked up a few places I thought you’d like. A lot of websites suggested aquariums, theme parks, and movie dates as a first, but I figured you wouldn’t appreciate the crowds and that you’d like something more music oriented.”

Megumi’s heart softens at how considerate Yuji is, how much effort he put into planning this out.

“I don’t know how you thought I could ever be disappointed,” Megumi says, plopping a fry in his mouth. “This is perfect. I can’t wait to look at the music more extensively later.”

Yuji preens at that. “That’s great, I’m glad.”

“It sounds like you planned a bit in advance, though,” Megumi remarks, cocking an eyebrow as he takes a fork and knife and starts cutting into his burger. Yuji gives him a quizzical look at that, but he ignores him, because he refuses to ruin his makeup that he spent an hour on. “Which is weird because we just got together the day before yesterday.”

Yuji blushes at that, coughing a bit as he struggles to swallow his food. Megumi watches him observantly, chewing his food slowly. 

“I, uh, maybe was looking at date spots a while ago?” Yuji says, voice sounding garbled, phrasing it like a question rather than a statement. 

“How long ago?” 

“Few weeks ago,” Yuji mumbles, “maybe a little after we started kissing n’ stuff.”

“Oh,” Megumi says, “I see. I suppose that aligns with what Kugisaki said earlier.”

If Yuji was looking at date spots after they started kissing, then he ought not to blame Megumi for looking up wedding venues after their first date. This is more his fault than Megumi’s, after all, for being the most perfect boy to exist. 

“Wait, what? Nobara talked to you earlier?” Yuji asks, looking shocked. “I thought you guys hated each other.” 

“Hate is a strong word.” Megumi considers Yuji wryly over the rim of his glasses. “I’d rather use the phrase, ‘strongly dislike’ instead. Though, we did settle our differences I suppose.” 

Yuji looks distinctly horrified. “What did she say?” 

Megumi smiles, taking a long sip of his soda. “Nothing much. Only that you've liked me for a long time.”

“Oh God,” Yuji groans, burying his face in his hands, the tips of his ears turning red. “Shit, I can’t believe she said that. Is that too weird? Fuck, I probably don’t look cool and mysterious at all right now.”

Megumi can surmise that Yuji has been reading more than just date spot blogs, it would seem that he’d been browsing some dating advice columns as well. Not that he could judge because he certainly spent hours on reddit under r/dating_advice, reading other posts people put up about falling in love with a friend who wouldn’t love them back. The advice hadn’t helped much, but it made him feel a little less alone at the time.

It’s a bit insane that Megumi won’t have to go on those subreddits anymore, has bagged the friend in the end. 

“Not weird at all,” Megumi says, prying Yuji’s hands away from his face gently. “Besides, you were never the cool and mysterious type anyway, that’s more up my alley.”

 “Then what type would you say I am?” Yuji asks him coyly. 

The lovely, bright, and perfect type, Megumi thinks immediately, but decides not to voice his thoughts aloud. 

“Golden retriever type,” Megumi says instead. “You wear your heart on your sleeve.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I know you love dogs so much.” Yuji wags his eyebrows at him. 

Megumi rolls his eyes at him, but he doesn’t make any effort to deny it either, which makes Yuji preen yet again. What a praise whore. 

They banter a bit, Megumi listening to Yuji talk about the highlights of tonight’s match, all while enjoying the live band. Yuji scarfs down his meal like it’s his last while Megumi tries his best to finish his own. He leaves half of his food to Yuji who looks at it with a forlorn glance, which makes Yuji brighten up when Megumi insists that he really, really doesn’t mind if he takes it. 

It’s nice, Megumi thinks, comfortable even. If even a small part of him worried what they would be like if they were dating, his fears have all but diminished. If anything, it feels the same as when they were friends, but without all the pain of having to hide how he feels. Fuck, which means maybe they were a whole lot gayer together than he’d initially thought. 

No wonder his family teased him so much. 

“Won’t you tell me a bit about your family?” Megumi asks, reminded at the thought of his own family inevitably taking the piss out of him once Maki tells everyone on the group chat that Yuji and him are official now. “You’ve only mentioned them in passing.” During their fight, he’d mentioned it in the middle of his rant about how Megumi doesn’t know anything about him. He doesn’t mention that part, nor will he say that Yuji is the one who is oddly private about certain things in his life, that he hadn’t felt particularly welcome to prod into those parts. “I —I do want to know more about you, I just don’t often think to ask first and assume you’ll tell me things on your own time.”

“You’re right.” Yuji sighs, sipping on his soda. “I haven’t been too forthcoming myself, I guess, so I’m sorry if it seemed like I was putting too much blame on you that day.” Yuji smiles at Megumi apologetically. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Megumi says, “it was a fair statement to make.”

“Yeah, but still. I think I was unfair to you, because in all honesty, it’s not something I enjoy talking about a lot.” Yuji shrugs, looking uncomfortable. He shakes his head, plastering a smile on his face. “My dad died when I was little —pancreatic cancer. Mom went off on her own, she lives in America or something, I don’t know, she was never too involved. My grandpa took me and my two brothers in, but he died a few years ago when I was in high school.

“That was when my older brother, Choso, took care of me and my… twin brother, Sukuna.” Yuji punctuates this statement with a sigh. “It was a time, I guess. I won’t go into too many details, but let’s just say I was biding my time until I could move out and go to college on a scholarship.”

“Jesus,” Megumi breathes, blinking in surprise. “I didn’t expect all that. And to think I thought my family was weird.”

“Yeah.” Yuji nods. “You’re not gonna ask me about having a twin? Usually, everyone is always so shocked to hear about it.”

“Nah.” Megumi dismisses him. It’s true, he is shocked to hear that Yuji has a doppelganger running around, but his discomfort when he mentioned his name told him not to pry. He could do some digging on his own later if he wants. “Maki has a twin and they aren’t close either. Being a twin isn’t the life defining thing people make it out to be.”

Yuji’s shoulders sag, taking a hearty sip of his soda, noisy because it’s mostly ice now. 

“Yeah. Yeah, we’re not close like that either. I mean, Choso is great, I love him, but Sukuna…” His face turns serious for a moment, his eyes glaze over as he retrieves a memory that Megumi isn’t privy to. “Let’s just say we don’t have the best relationship with each other, but that’s neither here nor there.”

“That’s okay,” Megumi says, burying the desperate urge to pry with the greater need to make Yuji comfortable. “I have a cousin that I don’t particularly care for either.”

He, of course, is talking about Naoya. The one cousin in the family that nobody particularly likes, who worships the ground Toji walks on, and resents Gojo for merely existing by his side and Megumi even more for being an unworthy son. Inheritance is also a big thing to him, cares a lot about who will take what when the family elders kick the bucket, wants to make sure he takes more than the rest of them.

He’s weird about it, bordering on psychotic even, showing up at their house at weird hours and the few times he threatened them with bodily harm. Megumi makes sure to steer clear of him whenever he’s on campus, and the feeling is mutual. Naoya steers clear of all of them nowadays, ever since Maki whooped his ass.

Megumi can’t fathom someone as sweet as Yuji having his own Naoya in his life, but if he does, he can certainly empathize with his discomfort and doesn’t want to pile onto it. Yuji can tell him later, when the time is right.

“Yeah?” Yuji muses, chewing mindlessly on a french-fry. “Sucks that you can relate but it’s also nice that you also get it.”

“Yeah, for sure.”

“I just hope you guys never meet,” Yuji says, eyes widening as if he hadn’t meant to speak the words aloud. “Sorry, no, don’t mind me.” He laughs, but the sound is strained, grates on Megumi’s ears. “Tell me more about your family. I only really know about Maki and Tsumiki.”

Megumi casts Yuji a dubious look, but he nods, rationalizing his odd request by thinking that he wouldn’t particularly wish for Yuji to interact with Naoya either. It’s an obvious attempt to change the subject, but he takes it, wanting to lighten the mood of their date once more. And if it’s stories about his crazy Zenin family, then Megumi certainly has those in abundance. 

That minor hiccup aside, the rest of their date goes smoothly. 

Megumi insists on sifting through the records and vinyls in the shop, gushing when he finds some rare editions, shyly asking the cafe owner if they’re selling. The owner, an older guy who appeared to be in his late twenties called Ino, kindly told him that no, they are not selling, but he’s welcome to come by whenever he wants to listen to whatever music he wants. He also complimented Megumi on his gothic look, saying that his drip looked pretty rad, to which Megumi couldn’t help but feel flattered.

‘Just so you know, I called you pretty first.’

‘I know you did, Yuji, I appreciate it.’

‘Don’t go back there without me, okay?’

‘Why not?’

‘I don’t like that the owner was flirting with you.’

‘Oh my God.’

 But for as much as Megumi wanted to pretend that he was annoyed, he would be lying if he said that he wasn’t melting at the prospect of Yuji bristling at another man possibly flirting with him. Jealousy looks hot on Yuji, Megumi thought, studying the set of his jaw and the furrow of his brow. Wanted nothing more than to take his face in his hands and kiss the jealousy away. Part of him hoped that the kiss would be aggressive, too, Yuji biting down harshly into Megumi’s bottom lip and leaving his mark on his throat. 

He’d pushed the urge away, though, because they were in public and two boys kissing in Tokyo wasn’t socially acceptable unfortunately. Besides, it wasn’t as if Megumi was capable of looking at anyone other than Yuji anyway. 

Now, they’re walking through the winding streets, and Megumi gets a flash of deja vu as they pass by the CVS they went to after the first match Megumi attended. The further they walk, the more familiar the streets seem, until they reach a field that Megumi could never forget. 

How could he when it was the place where Yuji and him first kissed?

“Isn’t this —?”

“Yeah.” Yuji tugs on Megumi’s hand, turning him around to face him. “Wanted to bring you to the place where it all started, or well, where it started to kick off anyway.”

“Yuji,” Megumi breathes. 

“I think this is probably when I started to fall for you,” Yuji says, averting his gaze. “Probably before then, but it was also the pivotal moment for me.” 

“I —” Megumi doesn’t know what to say, all the words clogging in his throat to form an incoherent lump. He struggles to form the words, but Yuji is patient, doesn’t interrupt him or make him feel embarrassed. “You were my first kiss with another boy.”

Fuck. That’s not what he intended to say at all. Now he’s the one who looks lame. It’s too late, though, because the words have already been said and he can’t take them back. 

“Really?” Yuji looks bemused at that, a self-satisfied grin forming across his face. “You mean the boys weren’t lining up for a chance to kiss you?”

“Don’t tease me.” Megumi kicks Yuji’s shin. “You know that’s not true.”

“And why would I know that?” Yuji raises an eyebrow, taking another step closer, invading Megumi’s personal space. “I know that you’re pretty, smart, sweet, and incredibly cool —I bet all the guys have a crush on you.”

They’re so close that Megumi has to look down to see Yuji properly. Close enough that he can see the way his lashes cast shadows on his cheeks in the flickering lamplight, the warmth that tints his cheeks red. 

They’re also close enough that Yuji notices the moment Megumi takes in a sharp inhale at his words. Close enough to hear the loud sound of his heart reverberating against his ribcage, the loud sound echoing in his ears, drowning out everything else. 

“Only you think that,” Megumi says. 

“Maybe.” Yuji shrugs. “Or maybe not.” He brushes his nose against Megumi’s, his glasses bumping against Yuji’s face, so close that they’re essentially breathing the same air. “But it doesn’t matter, because you’re mine , and I’m the only boy who gets to kiss you.”

The curl of possessiveness in Yuji’s voice makes a shiver run down Megumi’s spine, the knots in the base of his stomach tightening with want. Yes, he is Yuji’s, wants to belong to him in every way. 

“Then why don’t you?”

Yuji meets the challenge by pressing his lips against his, needier this time than he was earlier. Ravenous, greedy, all-consuming. Megumi kisses him back with matching fervor, wanting more, so much more. He lets Yuji taste him, lets him brush his fingers through his hair, ruining the hair he spent so long styling earlier to make it perfectly fluffy. Megumi doesn’t know what to do with his hands, letting them rest on Yuji’s pastel sweater, fingers fisting in the soft fabric to bring him closer. 

Yuji deepens the kiss, the kiss turning positively filthy as spit trails down Megumi’s chin, his hand fixed around his overheating nape so that he can’t escape it. He’s feeling so much, he can barely carry his own weight, kept afloat only by Yuji’s hand on his waist. Yuji sucks on his tongue, his other hand adventurous as it brushes against his bare skin underneath his sweater. The small touch is enough to make Megumi groan with unadulterated arousal. 

More. He needs Yuji to touch him more. 

“You’re hard, Megumin,” Yuji whispers against Megumi’s lips, his voice raspy and thick from the kiss. He brushes his thigh against Megumi’s cock, which makes him keen from the jolt of arousal. “Don’t tell me that a kiss is all you need to get you going now.”

Holy fuck, he really is hard, he realizes. All his blood rushed south, and now he’s standing here in public, harder than he’s ever been in his life. This is almost as mortifying as Yuji walking in on him during his livestream. 

“No.” Megumi shakes his head. 

“No, you’re not hard?” Yuji peppers a litany of kisses across Megumi’s face. The corner of his lips, his cheeks, the line of his jaw. “Or no, it’s not the kiss that got you going?”

Megumi whines, an embarrassing sound that tumbles from his lips unbidden, his brain having totally turned to mush so he finds it hard to formulate a coherent response right now. He shakes his head, burying his face in the crook of Yuji’s shoulder, his breath coming out in breathless pants. 

“No to that, too? Do you want me to keep guessing?” Yuji asks, rubbing a circle in his back comfortingly with one hand, a scene that would have looked innocuously sweet to any passersby, but is nothing of the sort with him brushing his finger against Megumi’s cock with his other hand. His cock, which is straining against the zipper of his extremely tight skinny jeans that feels like a prison right now, positively leaking at Yuji’s touch even if it’s through the denim fabric. “Is it the fact that we’re in public right now?”

Yuji has touched him before, sure, but it's the first time that he's been so deliberate about it. Teasing him, making fun of him, edging him with featherlight touches. Megumi doesn't know what to make of it, tries his best to retain what's left of his dwindling pride, but is struggling when he has Yuji loosely cupping his cock through the fabric of his jeans. 

Fuck, he's a total goner right now. 

“So you're not an exhibitionist?” Yuji's finger drags against the tip of his cock slowly in circles that drives Megumi mad. Yuji's voice drops to a whisper, “so it has to be that I called you pretty.” He applies more pressure on the tip now, breathing the next words directly into Megumi’s ear. “Or maybe it's when I called you mine .” 

 Megumi really doesn’t mean to come when he does, Yuji's touch hardly satisfying through his jeans, but he does regardless. He comes in his pants like he's a teenage boy, soiling them completely, his knees buckling as he's about to collapse onto the ground. His weight held up entirely by Yuji holding him up by placing his hands on his waist.

He can barely breathe, his chest rising and falling so rapidly as he tries to recollect air, and Yuji laughs at him mirthfully. 

“I guess I got my answer,” Yuji says. “You're so cute, Megumin.” 

“Shut the fuck up,” Megumi rasps, about ready to drown from his own mortification. “You played dirty.” 

“I did not,” Yuji protests, taking Megumi’s hand and placing it atop his own cock, which is rock hard under his palm. “I’m hard, too, Megumin, you just didn't notice.” 

Feeling Yuji’s cock, hard and throbbing in his hand because of him , makes his final thread of patience snap. Because he’s had enough of the waiting, the teasing, and the edging. 

He needs Yuji and he needs him now. 

“I want to go home,” Megumi says, “immediately.” 

“Impatient much?” Yuji muses. 

“Yes.” Megumi glares at him over the rim of his fogged up glasses. “Very. If you don't take me home now, I'll kill you.” 

Yuji swallows at that, rearranging the bulge in his pants, looking a little faint as he nods. “Yes sir.” 

The Uber home is tense.

They could have walked, the flat was only a few miles away, but Megumi wouldn't have had the patience to. Not to mention, walking in come-soiled pants isn't ideal, and Yuji was also sporting an impressive boner that probably wasn't very comfortable either. Not that Megumi was looking or anything. 

(He hadn’t taken his eyes off the tent in Yuji’s pants actually. If anything, he was busying himself with imagining how big his cock would be inside of him. He now has a reference to go back to for an accurate idea on how Yuji’s cock would fill him up now after the embarrassing blowjob he gave him.) 

Megumi hardly remembers paying the Uber driver, probably gave him a lot more money than the fare was worth, but it didn’t matter. Too impatient, each thud of Yuji’s shoes behind his own hasty steps, going straight to his cock. 

Once inside, carefully stepping around a sleeping Kuro and Shiro, Megumi pins Yuji to the wall, pressing his cock firmly against Yuji’s. 

“Take responsibility for what you’ve done,” Megumi says through gritted teeth. “I need you to fuck me. Now.”

Yuji looks winded; not at all intimidated by how Megumi towers over him, the hand that he fists in his sweater, or the intensity of his withering glare over the rim of his glasses. Rather, he looks uncertain. 

Which feels like a blow to Megumi’s ego. Part of him wonders if Yuji doesn’t want to sleep with him because he’s a camboy, but he immediately dismisses the idea, tells himself that Yuji isn’t like that. 

“We said we would take it slow.” Yuji squirms. “I wanted your first time to be special.”

“Aren’t you the one who said that we’re beyond doing things the traditional way? What’s the point in taking things slow when I’ve been wanting you to fuck me since the first time we met,” Megumi groans, tightening his fist in Yuji’s sweater. “And what’s more special than the date we just had?” Megumi presses his cock against Yuji’s, satisfied to feel that he’s just as hard as he is, regardless of his feeble attempts to get out of this. “Don’t tell me you actually wanted to wait until three dates or something so cliche like that?”

“So what if I was?” Yuji pouts. “Is it so bad that I want to treat you right?”

“You can treat me right —” Megumi ruts his cock against Yuji’s, just about ready to get on his knees if that’s what he needs to do. “—by fucking me right now. I don’t care about conventions, I just want you.”

Yuji throws his head back against the wall, his jaw clenching as he fights to maintain his composure. “Megumin, you’re making this so hard for me.”

“I know how horny you get after a workout,” Megumi whispers, brushing his tongue against the shell of his ear. This will be mortifying, but Megumi has to play his ultimate card if he wants Yuji to give in. “I know because I used to fuck myself to the sound of you getting off.”

“Holy fuck,” Yuji gasps, a guttural groan punched out of his chest that makes Megumi shiver. “Don’t come crying to me about this later, okay?”

Megumi doesn’t have a chance to ponder about how ominous that statement is before he’s already being pushed into Yuji’s room. He’d been here before, of course, had found the posters of the bikini clad women distasteful and upsetting because it served as a constant reminder of how he could never be what Yuji liked. But now, being shoved into Yuji’s room without any care, pushed onto his bed with an aggression that is entirely foreign to him, he feels like a stranger in his space. 

He’s bombarded with Yuji’s musky scent on the sheets and pillows, the sight of Yuji taking off his sweater with one careless toss, his muscles flexing as he tosses it. Megumi feels his mouth go dry as Yuji crawls over him on the bed, his hand climbing up his sweater to reveal his pale skin underneath. His skin is marked with a litany of green bruises, fading hickeys that Yuji imparted onto him, Yuji’s finger tracing each one of them with an unreadable expression. 

“I really wanted our first date to be romantic and sweet to make up for everything that happened between us.” Yuji sighs, looking genuinely mournful as he pushes Megumi’s sweater over his head. He splays his hand over Megumi’s chest, right over his racing heart. “But you just had to be so bratty and ruin my attempts at being a gentleman.”

Megumi is starting to feel a trickle of anxiety creep down his neck. “What?”

“I hope you have good stamina, Megumin,” Yuji says, burying his nose in the crook of Megumi’s throat, breathing him in. “Because you won’t be getting much sleep tonight.”

Megumi feels all his earlier bravado dissipate, shaking as Yuji scrapes his teeth over the old marks, stinging because they hadn’t yet healed. He digs his teeth into every bite mark, as if he wants to make sure they never fade, only pausing along the way to lave over his nipples. Megumi gasps, his back arching as Yuji’s tongue teases his areola, his teeth tugging on his nipple in a way that borders on painful. At the same time, he’s pinching his other nipple, torturing him with so much pleasure that Megumi feels about ready to come again from Yuji’s fleeting touches alone. 

But Yuji doesn’t linger long on his chest, already moving downwards, towards his navel. This time, he doesn’t look to Megumi for permission, merely unbuttons his pants, pulling it down to reveal his underwear underneath. 

And then all hell breaks loose. 

“You were wearing these panties underneath your clothes this whole time?” Yuji asks, looking faint. “How did you —did you know that the night would end this way?”

“I wanted to look pretty for you,” Megumi says, covering his face with his hand so Yuji doesn’t see how red he must be right now. “And I also knew that I wouldn’t take no for an answer tonight.”

“Oh God,” Yuji groans, eyes running over Megumi’s nude body, fingers brushing over the black lace at the seams of his panties. “You’re gorgeous.”

The word makes Megumi’s cock throb in his panties, the tip already peaking past the band, making a mess of the lacy fabric. It’s quite uncomfortable if he’s being honest, moves to take them off, but Yuji stops him. 

“Keep them on,” Yuji says, batting his hand away. “I like it.”

Megumi swallows, but he nods, anticipation swelling in his chest. He watches Yuji, watches the way he stares at him, as if trying to commit every memory of his body to detail. As if he could devour him with his eyes.

Then, he’s no longer just watching, he’s touching him too.

His calloused fingertips run along the length of his cock, featherlight, teasing. He rubs the lace into his cock, smears the pre-come and come from his last orgasm against the length, further ruining the fabric. Megumi sucks in a deep breath, thighs flexing as Yuji’s thumb dips into the slit of his cock, pre-come dribbling where he applies pressure.

It feels so good, but it’s not enough at all, needs so much more than what he’s offering.

“Yuji, please,” Megumi all but begs. “Need you so bad.”

Yuji nods, opening his bedside drawer to pull out the lube, and Megumi flushes as he coats his fingers with the white liquid. He pulls his panties to the side to reveal his hole, somewhere he’d never been touched before by anyone but his own fingers and toys. The touch of his fingers feels foreign, thicker and rougher than his own, his hole twitching as he applies pressure on it. 

He breaches his entrance easily, Yuji sucking in a deep breath as Megumi takes his first finger with ease. 

“You don’t have to —I already prepped myself earlier,” Megumi says, burying his face in his hands. He hates how eager he must look in front of Yuji, but he’s so aroused that he can’t bring himself to care. 

“You did?” Yuji pushes a second finger in alongside the first, the stretch already making Megumi’s body burn. “Did you think of me while you were doing it?”

Obviously, he did, but he doesn’t want to admit that to Yuji so he turns his head to the side, adamant on not answering. 

“Come on, Megumin,” Yuji says, rolling his name off his tongue in a way that borders on sinful. He pushes a third finger in, stretching him out more than his fingers ever could, his eyes widening at how full he already feels. “Don’t be like that. Won’t you tell me?”

Megumi’s eyes fly open when Yuji’s fingers find his prostate, a spot he always struggles to find himself with his own clumsy fingers, a winded gasp falling from his lips. Yuji’s grin turns wicked, smattering kisses against Megumi’s face as he pistons his fingers towards the same spot again and again, each brush of his fingers against his prostate making Megumi see stars. His cock is leaking all over his stomach, which is clenched, a desperate need to come overwhelming him. 

If Yuji doesn’t fuck him now, Megumi might just lose his mind. 

“Yuji,” Megumi grabs his arm, feeling his bicep flex underneath his hand, his onslaught on his prostate unforgiving now that he’s found it. “Please just fuck me.”

“Tell me what you were thinking about while fucking yourself with your fingers and then I’ll fuck you.”

Megumi all but sobs as the pleasure continues to muddle his brain, his sense of self starting to melt away as he becomes a slave to Yuji’s ministrations. He needs Yuji to fuck him, now, and he’s ready to throw his pride away if it means getting what he wants. 

He wants to take everything Yuji has to give, but more than that, he wants to give himself away entirely to Yuji. He’s so close to that, too, but Yuji keeps on teasing him, and he’s starting to spiral because why won’t Yuji fuck him?

“Fine,” Megumi says, wrapping his hands around Yuji’s shoulders to bring him in impossibly close. “I thought of you while I was fingering myself open. I even used a toy because I knew you’d be so big, you’d split me open, and I needed to be ready for how good you’d make me feel. Happy now?”

“Extremely.” Yuji grins, kissing Megumi, a deceptively chaste kiss as his fingers pull out of his hole. His hole flutters for a moment, clenching around nothing before he can feel the blunt tip of his cock press against his entrance. “Let’s see if we can live up to expectations, yeah?”

The moment before Yuji bottoms out is the longest moment of Megumi’s life, feels as if it’s stretching into infinity before it finally happens. No amount of prep could have prepared him for how full he feels with Yuji’s cock inside of him, his hole clenching around the intrusion so tightly, so thick that he feels his eyes roll back. It’s so good, he can barely think straight. 

Yuji is actually inside him, it’s not a dream or a fantasy, it’s the best form of real life he could ever fathom. He’s finally lost his virginity, and it’s to the boy he loves the most, and it’s so much better than anything he could have ever imagined. 

(Not to be dramatic or anything, but Megumi already knows that nobody else could ever measure up to Yuji. He’s the only person he ever wants to be with in this way and will do anything to make sure that becomes a reality.)

“Fuck, did you just come from me putting it inside you?” Yuji says through clenched teeth. “That’s so hot.”

Did he come? Megumi looks down between them, notices that his stomach is indeed wet with his own come, his panties drenched, his cock making a mess of it. His whole body is quivering, the same way it does after a particularly good orgasm, but it feels even more intense this time. He really did come, untouched at that, just from how good it felt for Yuji to finally fuck him. 

He’s so fucked out that he can’t even be embarrassed about it. 

“Sorry,” Megumi slurs. 

“Nah.” Yuji thrusts inside of him slowly, the over-sensitivity from just coming makes Megumi’s eyes widen, every nerve ending hyper-responsive to every single movement Yuji is making now. “It was hot. ‘Sides, I’m not letting you off the hook so easily.”

“Yuji, wait, I need a break —”

But Yuji isn’t listening to him, is thrusting into him properly now, fucking him hard and fast without paying any mind to how sensitive Megumi is now. Megumi lets out a strangled sound that he can’t believe came from his own chest, tears welling in his eyes because of how intense it is. Each thrust has the bedframe slamming against the wall, that loud sound that would cause a Pavlovian response to go straight to his dick before, and it’s no better now that it’s ricocheting against his ears now.

He looks at Yuji, takes in the oddly serious expression on his face. He looks focused, his jaw set and a flush high on his cheeks, reminiscent of how he looks on the basketball court. This Yuji is nothing like the Yuji he’d imagine when he was getting off, yet he’s so much better in every way. 

He looks like he’s feeling good, too, Megumi thinks distantly. 

“Yuji, slower, please —”

“You know, since we’re being honest with each other now,” Yuji says, ignoring Megumi’s pleas as he continues to fuck him vigorously, paying no mind to the tears that are spilling from his eyes in earnest. “Ever since that night, when I found out that you were a camboy and we got together, I looked up your videos and rubbed my dick raw getting off to each and every one of them.” He fucks him, filling up every inch of Megumi, so big, stretching him out more than any of his toys ever could. “Would imagine that I was the one fucking you instead, filling up your hole, your mouth with my cock until I made a mess of you.”

The visual fills Megumi’s mind, flooding his senses, imagining Yuji watching his recorded streams on his page, fucking his cock into his own fist as he watches Megumi get off. He’d never really cared about who was watching him behind the screen, but knowing that Yuji watched him, that he found him sexy enough to ‘rub his dick raw’ to him while imagining such filthy scenarios, has his gut twisting with molten hot lava. 

His cock leaks, the panties chafing against the sensitive fabric, and all he can think about is wanting to come again. 

“Fuck,” Megumi groans, eyes rolling back. “You can’t just say stuff like that.”

“You should know how pretty and sexy I think you are,” Yuji says, the tip of his cock brushing against his prostate. His face is flushed, too, with exertion, from how good Megumi must be making him feel. “And now that we’re fucking, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop.”

Megumi can hardly summon a response to that, not with Yuji’s cock slamming into his prostate with each thrust, making him see stars with each time he bottoms out. Megumi’s back arches, his fingers clawing uselessly at Yuji’s shoulders to tether him, but he’s feeling so much that he can hardly gather his own wits. 

But Yuji keeps blabbering, keeps saying words that make him melt underneath his fingertips. 

“God, you look so pretty when you’re all fucked out like that,” Yuji whispers, the words feeling distant while Megumi’s ears are stuffed full with cotton. “Fully dickmatized.”

His stomach twists, betraying the signs of another orgasm, can feel it in every pore of his body. Desperate, sitting on the precipice of an intense climax that’s only a hairsbreadth out of reach. 

“Yuji,” Megumi says, blinking away tears, his glasses so fogged up that he can hardly see through them anymore. “Wanna come, please.”

“Hey, I’ve got you,” Yuji shushes him, pressing kisses to his cheeks, licking the trail of tears falling down his cheeks, props his glasses up just enough to wipe away the wetness collecting there with the pad of his thumb. The gesture would have felt sweet and caring if not for the darkness swarming in Yuji’s eyes, the way he fucks Megumi harder instead of taking mercy upon him. 

Megumi can only gasp as Yuji takes his cock in his hand, tugging on it in tandem with his thrusts, each tug punching a gasp from Megumi’s chest. His glasses sit askew on his face as Yuji’s thrusts grow messier, the hold on his cock tighter. 

“Love you, Megumin,” Yuji says between kisses, words Megumi can hardly register, only nodding along as he takes and takes everything Yuji is giving. “You’re so good, so perfect, I’ve got you.”

All it takes is for one particularly hard thrust paired with one tug of his cock, and Megumi is coming yet again, splattering himself with his own come. His chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath, every nerve-ending thrumming with unkempt hyper-sensitivity as Yuji continues to fuck him through his orgasm, coming deep inside of him and coating his walls white. A sob is ripped from his chest, so sensitive, so on edge. 

The feeling of Yuji coming inside of him, filling him up with it as he fucked him raw, is enough to have Megumi give another pathetic spurt of come, clenching around Yuji’s cock inside of him. 

“That was so good,” Yuji marvels, pulling out of Megumi with a small gasp. “10/10 would do again.”

“Yeah.” Megumi nods, still feeling winded as if he ran an entire marathon. “Same.”

Yuji hums, spreading Megumi’s cheeks, and Megumi flushes as Yuji watches his own come drip out of his twitching hole and onto the mattress underneath him. It’s mortifying, but also he feels so boneless right now that he can’t even summon the energy to close his legs, let alone push Yuji away. 

When Megumi feels Yuji stick two fingers inside, he struggles to sit up on his elbows to look at him quizzically. “What are you doing?”

“The night is still young and I’m still hard.” Yuji grins at Megumi with that same winsome smile that Megumi always found endearing, but finds terrifying now. “I told you not to come crying to me later.” He leans in to press a kiss to Megumi’s bemused lips. “Well, you can cry if you want to, I like it when you cry because it turns me on.”

Megumi is starting to realize that perhaps he may have made a grave miscalculation on his part. 

Yuji, Megumi quickly realizes, is a beast in the bedroom. 

Endless stamina of a star athlete, not an iota of shame to his person, and a strange obsession with pushing Megumi over the brink time and time again. He’d fucked Megumi in every single position, thoroughly ruining his own sheets and Megumi himself, fucking him until Megumi could do nothing more than weakly whine and take it. 

Megumi looks out the window, can see that the sky is no longer dark, but a mix of orange and pink to signify that it’s now dusk. He hardly feels like a person as Yuji presses nuzzles into the crook of Megumi’s mottled shoulder affectionately the same way Shiro would, holding Megumi’s sore body close to his chest. 

They literally fucked until dawn, Megumi thinks. He didn’t even know that was physically possible until Yuji proved that it certainly is. Somehow. He’s so exhausted, the bone deep kind, that he can’t even fall asleep despite how heavy his eyelids are. 

Oh yeah, he hasn’t thanked Yuji for their date together yet, but he figures he has the time to do that later. When they’re well rested and Megumi doesn’t feel like jelly and his ass isn’t hurting from the torture Yuji put it through. 

“That was great,” Yuji says, breaking the comfortable silence that settled over them, yawning at the tail end of his sentence. “Can’t believe we went so long without that.”

“Yeah,” Megumi says, while wondering how he will survive Yuji’s terrifying libido moving forward. “Same.”

“You know what we should do?” Yuji continues, sounding too excited for someone who spent the whole night tormenting Megumi until he was coming dry. “We should do one of your cam shows together!”

“I beg your pardon?” Megumi says, suddenly feeling much more awake. “Did I just hear you correctly? Because it sounds to me as if you were saying you want to appear in one of my cam shows and I’m sure I misheard that.”

They hadn’t mentioned his camshows since Yuji walked in on him and it was too embarrassing a topic for Megumi to bring up of his own accord. He wasn’t sure how Yuji would take the whole thing and the fact that his next cam show was scheduled for next week made him nervous, because he’s never skipped a single show, but everything is different now. He didn’t have a boyfriend before, but he has one now, and most boyfriends would be weirded out about something like that, right?

Yuji was chill about the whole thing, but would he be chill about Megumi continuing? He doesn’t even know if he wants to continue, he wasn’t particularly amazing at it, but the extra pocket money was good. It was also a nice ego boost, too, his viewers always showering him with compliments. 

“Hmm, no, that’s what I meant,” Yuji says, smiling at him softly. “I’m officially your biggest fan, so it would be super cool to show up in one of your shows. Only if you want me to, of course.”

Megumi blinks at that slowly. “So you don’t mind me being a camboy?” 

“No?” Yuji cocks an eyebrow up at him, looking bemused at the question. “Why should I? That’s none of my business to judge you. Besides, you’re so good at it, too.”

“I —” Megumi cuts himself off, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “You fascinate me, Yuji. But sure, fine, let’s do it sometime.”

Just thinking about Yuji on one of his shows —maybe wearing a tiger mask, fucking Megumi and making a mess out of him on camera for hundreds of viewers to see —has Megumi feeling oddly parched. He ignores the feeling because if he gets hard again, he will actually die. 

But maybe, a small part of him is also looking forward to it, sharing that secret he’d always kept so tightly under wraps with Yuji. 

“You fascinate me, too, Megumin.” Yuji nods, yawning as he pulls Megumi into him so that he’s the little spoon despite being much taller than him. “I love you.”

Megumi sputters at that, his chest feeling swelling with a rush of emotions, overflowing and impossible to contain. Yuji tells him every chance that he can that he loves Megumi, but he still can’t get used to it. Hearing the words now, though, after everything that they shared together feels even more intimate. His heart accelerates at a velocity that rivals that of the speed of light, his whole face turning into a shade darker than Yuji’s hair. 

When he first met Yuji on his doorstep all those months ago, he never thought he’d change his life so much, but now he can no longer imagine his life without him. 

“You need to stop saying that every few seconds or you’ll wear it out,” Megumi grumbles, burying his face in Yuji’s chest, trying his best to hide how happy he is. “Idiot.” 

“Why not?” Yuji pulls Megumi’s face back so he’s forced to look at him, grinning so bright that Megumi is sure that he did something right. “I gotta make up for lost time. Besides, you’re you. What’s not to love?”

Megumi doesn’t have an answer for that, but he also gets it. Because he feels the same way about Yuji, loves him, everything about him. How dorky, sweet, and considerate he is. The way he loves Shiro and Kuro, always showering them with love and affection as if they’re his own dogs. He admires how confident he is, how much he loves movies. He loves how willing he is to accommodate Megumi and make him comfortable. Never judgmental about Megumi’s odd antics or his weird moods; always so patient and understanding. He even loves how monstrous and depraved he apparently is in bed. 

What’s not to love, indeed?