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“It’s big. I’ve seen it before.”
“Itadori,” (Y/N) warned as her cheeks warmed into a bright, candy blush.
“I’d say it’s about the same length as mine? A little thicker too.” The salmon-haired boy drawled on, trying to recall the exact dimensions, “All I’m saying is, you wouldn’t be disappointed.” He gave the blushing girl a wink and a thumbs up.
The girl with the apricot colored bob rolled her eyes, “In the end, Fushiguro’s a male. (Y/N) will be disappointed eventually.”
Itadori furrowed his eyebrows, glaring at Kugisaki. (Y/N) felt her heart warm at Itadori’s attempt at an angry face. “Are you even trying to help set them up or no? You’ve been complaining the past thirty minutes.”
“Well, you’re a shit wingman.”
“Thanks.”
“Honestly, Itadori, there’s no heterosexual explanation as to why you would know Fushiguro’s size.”
It was Itadori’s turn to roll his eyes, “Hello? Dick measurement contest?”
“I said heterosexual explanation.”
(Y/N) shot straight up, ending the brain-cell reducing conversation. She slammed her hands on the desk, “Look, I appreciate you guys for trying, but Megumi and I aren’t like that.”
Kugisaki observed (Y/N) closely, her eyes narrowing into slits. She clearly had the telltale signs of a guilty woman: tense shoulders, a chin jutted slightly forward, and forehead lines. To any other observer, (Y/N) looked done, completely exasperated at their awful attempts at wing-manning Fushiguro. However, upon finishing her words, (Y/N)’s eyes fluttered twice in succession: a double blink. It was (Y/N)’s tell. As bad as Itadori is at hyping up his best friend, Kugisaki’s dear friend (and future vice president of her up-and-coming Misandrists Unite Club, fyi) was even worse at lying.
If (Y/N)’s body language wasn’t screaming ‘LIAR! I’M A LIAR!,’ the way she named Fushiguro sure did. Megumi, huh? Kugisaki thought, Didn’t realize they were on a first-name basis.
Proud of her discovery, Kugisaki smirked, leaning back into her chair as she folded her arms across her torso.
(Y/N)’s head tilted, her large doe eyes noting Kugisaki’s body language. Did Nobara know something she didn’t?
“Is something wrong..?”
Kugisaki’s eyes darkened. Her cherry-glossed lips reached her ears, her teeth slowly being unveiled as her smirk spread into a knowing, hellish grin.
“It’s not cute to keep secrets from your best friend, (Y/N). You’ll get premature wrinkles,” Kugisaki tutted, wagging her finger at the only person standing.
(Y/N)’s face flushed into a deep scarlet color, “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about your deep, heart-aching crush on Megumi Fushiguro. Your pores are practically seeping Giorgio Armani’s romantic perfume from his Spring 2019 collection, Si Fiori Eau de Parfum.”
As if right on cue, the tall, raven-haired man himself walked through the classroom doors. Megumi Fushiguro was over thirty minutes late to class, but to be honest, their class had an unspoken ‘as-long-as-you’re-here-before-Gojo-sensei’ attendance policy. Seeing that the masked gremlin was nowhere in sight, his perfect attendance was safe.
With two cups of coffee in his hands, he looked at Itadori’s blank expression, eyes flitting between the two girls. He looked at Nobara’s shit-eating grin, then at (Y/N)’s bewildered eyes, hands flying to her cheeks in a futile attempt to hide her pores. Fushiguro placed one of the now-warm caramel lattes on (Y/N)’s desk, mentally cursing the rain and the fact that Jujutsu Tech was in the middle of buttfuck nowhere, miles away from the nearest Starbucks.
He gave (Y/N) a look, “You have a crush on me?”
(Y/N) gulped, turning to Fushiguro. She hadn’t realized he walked in. (Y/N) recalled her final prayers, her final moments of peace.
His eyebrows were furrowed, a slight scowl on his face. He looked at her pleading eyes, her beauty accentuated by the hair framing her face.
A moment of silence.
His eyes softened, his lips curling into a smile.
“That’s good. I would hope my girlfriend has a crush on me. The past three months would be awkward otherwise.”
Chaos ensued.
Itadori and Kugisaki blasted up, screeching at the top of their lungs. Words never ceased to spill from Nobara’s mouth, talking about how she had to endure Itadori’s harebrained plans to set up the couple in front of them. Itadori on the other hand, complained about how his Broseph, his man, and his best friend didn’t bother telling him about his relationship.
“Man, you helped me shave my ass, but you couldn’t tell me this?” Itadori’s despair went ignored.
(Y/N) grunted, crossing her arms, “Deal’s off, ‘Gumi.”
Fushiguro chuckled, wrapping an arm around the scowling girl and kissing her temple, “You said it would take at least six months for them to figure it out.”
Her eyes narrowed, her hues glaring at the taller man. Questions were being thrown their way by the two light-haired knuckleheads, but it was ignored for their own conversation.
“It would have if you just kept your mouth shut.”
Fushiguro shrugged, “Rather both of us lose than have you win.”
“‘Gumi, I’m dating you; every day’s a win,” (Y/N) murmured with the same bardot blush on her face, despite the obvious scowl on her face and avoidance of eye contact.
Kugisaki gagged, nauseous at Fushiguro’s oddly soft display of character. If she knew (Y/N) and Fushiguro would coddle each other like this every day, she would’ve minded her own business.
As the bile began to rise in her throat at the sight of the ungodly ‘bunny kisses’ the two were giving each other, Gojo-sensei strolled into the classroom, a luggage filled with sweets in tow.
“Sorry, guys! The bakery had a limited edition blueberry cheese flavo- what the hell is that?”
Kugisaki sighed. It was going to be a long class today.