Archive of Our Own

Megumi is nervous. It’s not a familiar feeling for him really, but from the moment he asked Yuuji if he wanted to go out for dinner just the two of them, and Yuuji agreed, his stomach has been a coiled knot only pulling tighter by the hour.

Trying to focus on his classes the past three days has been near impossible. Which is surprising, considering he and Yuuji have been hooking up for years at this point. A no-strings arrangement that’s worked well for the both of them, but they’ve always just been friends. Nothing more, just friends. 

Now, however, Megumi wants more. 

The clothes in his closet stare at him, practically mocking, as though he’s in a face off with his wardrobe as he tries to pick the shirt that will be best for tonight. Because somehow, some part of him wants it to go perfectly. 

He fucking hates this.

Why does he care so much? He shouldn’t, he really shouldn’t, but Yuuji just…well he’s Yuuji, and Megumi can’t help the way his sharp edges soften for him. They’ve been friends for six years at this point, and wrapped up in whatever it is they’ve been doing for close to two. Friends with benefits was what they agreed on, but it’s always felt like a bit more than that. Even if neither of them have ever addressed it, because keeping with the status quo has felt safer. That is, up until now, at least.

Because now the weight of Megumi’s want is undeniable. Sleeping with Yuuji casually has been difficult from the begining, but what started as an innocent crush for his best friend-turned-fuck bussy quickly turned into something much deeper than he planned for. However, when Megumi thinks about it, his crush was never truly that simple. His feelings for Yuuji have always been stronger than his feelings for anyone else.

It wasn’t as if Megumi fell for him overnight. No, it happened slowly over years. Over countless nights spent playing video games or watching movies together where they would end up sitting a little too close on the couch, close enough that one careless shift would leave their legs brushing. Whenever it happened a jolt of electricity would race through every point of contact. Each time, Megumi would freeze, scarcely daring to move, terrified that if he did, Yuuji would pull away.

It was over mornings of shared coffee and last minute homework; buzzed conversations at izakayas and dinners cooked together–well, Megumi watching Yuuji cook mostly, and on a few occasions, Yuuji would teach him a recipe.

At the same time something warm floods his chest, Megumi groans. He picks a white button up off its hanger, running the fabric between his fingers before putting it back in his closet with a shake of his head. Not the one. Sifting through a few different shirts, he picks up a black button up and does the same thing: trying to decipher if this shirt feels like the one. Which, in turn, feels stupid once he realizes what he’s doing.

When his phone pings with a text from Yuuji that reads, on my way! Megumi gives up and throws the shirt on, realizing he doesn’t have time for indecision anymore. The unruly strands of his hair will have to be acceptable, because the tell-tale four raps at his apartment door to a rhythmic beat that specifically belongs to Yuuji means his time is up.

Stupid beautiful Yuuji is leaning against the door frame when Megumi swings it open, and his breath catches in his throat a little at the sight of him. The way it always does when he sees the other boy. But quickly, Megumi’s eyes track down to find Yuuji in gym clothes?

Megumi scowls and tries not to look down at his own outfit, clearly overdressed, embarrassment churning in his gut. A loose fitting pair of shorts sit a few inches above Yuuji’s knees, which Megumi attempts to avoid letting his gaze linger on his thighs too long. Luckily his nerves about tonight win out. His eyes continue a path up Yuuji’s body, moving to the hem of an oversized t-shirt that peeks out below a black hoodie.

“Megumi, look at you! Nice shirt.” Yuuji reaches out and traces his fingers along the collar.

Heart skipping a little, Megumi grumbles a nervous thank  you, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. “So, should we go? Are you hungry?”

“I’m starving. Okkotsu practically killed me today on the court. I swear, I’m gonna beat him soon, he’s so sneaky I never expect him to be good as basketball. But anyway, I think I could eat four meals right now by myself and it still wouldn’t be enough.”

“Of course you could,” Megumi huffs, stepping into the hall and locking the door behind him. 

The walk to the restaurant Megumi picked out isn’t terribly long, and was chosen specifically because it’s one Yuuji has been mentioning he wants to try for ages now. The way his face lights up when he realizes it’s where they’re going sends a wicked flutter to Megumi’s stomach.

“Oh, dude, no way! I’ve wanted to come here forever!” Yuuji turns to him, honey-brown eyes warm with fondness and glinting with excitement as he grabs Megumi’s wrist to drag him towards the entrance.

A smile sits behind Megumi’s lips but he doesn’t let it show.

They’re seated by the window, the best table in the entire place which Megumi called ahead and asked for when making his reservation. Palms clammy, he wipes them against his pants as they sit down. Under the table, their feet tangle together naturally, like puzzle pieces. Megumi worries his heart is beating loud enough for Yuuji to hear if it weren’t for the chatter of the restaurant around them.

Yuuji, to Megumi’s complete lack of surprise, tries to order one of everything on the menu. It’s oddly endearing, even if Megumi has to stop him, pointing out that no matter how hungry he thinks he is, there’s no way he’ll finish all that food.

Ignoring the soft shine Yuuji lets out–and the frankly unfair pout that comes with it–Megumi promises he will take him back another time. The disappointment vanishes almost instantly,  brightening Yuuji’s warm brown eyes all over again.

“So, I was faking a move to throw him off, right? I was so close to stealing the ball until–”

“Let me guess, Inumaki showed up?”

“Yeah! He wasn’t even supposed to be playing with us. I mean it wasn’t like it was an official game or anything, we were just messing around for fun.”

“Yeah, but wherever Okkotsu is, Inumaki’s probably lurking somewhere nearby,” Megumi says.

Yuuji snorts, “True.”

Megumi thinks about Toge and Yuuta, about the easy way they fell together. No one was surprised when they started dating. In fact, everyone expected it, some knew it was happening before they even said anything. A part of Megumi yearns to have what they have with Yuuji.

The walk home is a bit slower, the two of them meandering down the streets of Tokyo, Yuuji chatting endlessly about whatever is popping into his brain, and Megumi listening and adding an anecdote here and there when he has one. Truthfully he could idly sit back and listen to Yuuji talk all day. Not that he’d ever tell him that.

By the time they make it back to Megumi’s apartment, the nerves have settled in. Mind racing with what comes next? Will he come inside? He usually comes in, but we don’t usually go out to dinner first. Is he going to say something about dinner?

Thump

Thump

Thump

His heart slams against his ribcage relentlessly. Why is Megumi so nervous right now? It’s just Yuuji.

Well, he supposes it could never be just Yuuji.

The front door unlocks, and Megumi walks into the genkan without saying a word, Yuuji trailing behind him. They toe off their shoes and Yuuji instantly makes his way into the kitchen for a glass of water before plopping himself down on the couch like it’s his own home.

Something settles inside Megumi seeing the easy way Yuuji makes himself comfortable. He goes to sit on the opposite end of the couch, but before he can, Yuuji is grabbing his wrist and pulling him down next to him, crowding his space. 

“Man, dinner was so good. I knew that place would be delicious, I can’t wait for us to go again. We can go again, right, Fushi?”

Does this mean a second date, then?

Yuuji lays his head down on the back of the couch. “Thanks for taking me. You didn’t have to pay by the way, I’ll make sure to get you the next time we go.”

“It’s fine. I’m glad you liked it.” 

Yuuji rolls his head to the side to meet Megumi’s gaze with a wide grin. His eyes turn a bit dark as he reaches out and toys with the collar of Megumi’s shirt.

“You’re too nice to me sometimes.”

Megumi shakes his head. “Not true.”

His fingers dip inside the collar of his shirt now, a tingle running up his spine at the light touch.

“So, it’s been a while since we,” he gives a suggestive raise of his eyebrows, “do you want to maybe…”

A slip of his stomach, heat pooling low instantly as he instinctively leans closer. The two of them magnet in a way they’ve never been able to properly address.

It first happened back in high school, mostly by accident. 

“Have you ever kissed anyone?” Yuuji asked one night during their second year, legs crossed and sat atop his bed, Megumi facing him with a card game in between them.

THe question came two days after a party where Maki teased Nobara for never having kissed anyone. Nobara yelled at her, and Maki blushed and giggled, knowing exactly how to get a rise out of her. Megumi thinks they kissed later that night. He’s certain Maki used the entire interaction as a way to initiate things with Nobara, since they’d both been crushing for a while.

Megumi had to clench his hands into fists to stop them from visibly shaking at Yuuji’s question. “Uh no, have you?”

A quick shake of his head, pink hair swooshing with the movement. 

Heat instantly flooded Megumi’s cheeks, and he was grateful for the already dimly lit room, hopefully hiding it. 

“Would you…want to try? You know…” an uncomfortable rub of the back of his neck, eyes flitting toward the ground then back up to meet Megumi’s, “for practice, or whatever? To get the first one over with?”

Something bottomed out in Megumi’s stomach. A churn of his gut quickly turned into a needy heart of butterflies. Because for all it was worth, Megumi had wanted to kiss Yuuji for a long time.

“Oh. Sure, yeah.” Hopefully his voice hadn’t sounded too eager.

“Really?” Brown eyes lit up. “Cool, um, so should we…do we?”

“Just shut up. Come here,” Megumi answered nervously, leaning in slightly.

The time it took for their lips to meet felt infinite. Each centimeter they moved closer was its own silent confirmation of what was about to happen, of what was about to break between them. A line crossed they couldn’t come back from.

When their lips did though, it was like a million fireflies going off inside of Megumi, blinking and fluttering, lighting up parts of him he’d never thought of before–parts he thinks might exist solely for Yuuji. His best friend.

Yuuji was gentle, lips parting softly, exploring. It was a bit awkward but still nice. Comfortable because of who it was, and Megumi immediately wanted to do it again once it was over.

Megumi figured it would be quick but neither of them pulled away. In fact, they only drew closer to each other, disappearing any and all space between the two of them as the kiss deepened. In fact, the only reason they did eventually part was to take a breath.

“Woah,” Yuuji said, the loveliest blush reaching up to the tips of his ears.

“Yeah, woah.”

After that, it became a sort of unspoken pact between them: we’ll have all of our firsts with each other.

And that’s what they did.

After that night, they started kissing…a lot. Practice, they called it. Until the following year when kissing turned into more and more, and over time they went further and further until they finally decided to lose their virginity to each other.

Considering it was the only line they hadn’t crossed, it seemed like the right move. To give that to the person who’s taken everything else only made sense.

Like all of their firsts it was a bit awkward, but also comfortable, also right in a way Megumi could never explain. For a long time, he chalked it up to familiarity. Why wouldn’t it feel nice to fuck your best friend? Of course it would when you know each other inside and out, when you trust each other implicitly.

Everything between them was always meant to be just for the first time, which always inevitably turned into more practice for when they started dating other people. Somehow, though, neither of them ever bothered seriously seeing anyone else. They would go on dates here and there with other people, but whenever Yuuji would talk about it Megumi would get inexplicably irritated.

So they stopped–only briefly though. The inevitable string between them drawing them back to each other regardless of the boundaries they tried to put in place.

“Friends with benefits,” Yuuji said one night while laying in Megumi’s bed after he first moved into this apartment a couple years ago.

It’s been this way ever since.

With Yuuji, it’s always been familiar, comfortable, so right in a way he hasn’t felt with anyone else. So Megumi not only accepted this was all he’d get to have with Yuuji, but he also stopped bothering trying to date anyone else. Once he realized the depth of his feelings for his best friend, the ease with which he chose not to date anyone made sense. He’s only ever wanted Yuuji, really.

Which is monumentally inconvenient and annoying for him. But he can’t help it.

“Been a while?” Megumi teases. “We did this two weeks ago,” he says, trying to stifle where his lip curls up.

“That’s basically forever.”

Then Yuuji puts on that look. The half hooded eyes Megumi can’t say no to as he tips his head to the side and whispers his name like a prayer, “Fushi.”

Megumi’s eyes flutter closed. Yuuji’s voice is like a melody that puts him in a trance.

He’s not sure who leans in, but the distance grows smaller, then Yuuji’s breath is against his neck, nose tracing the shell of his ear, “I miss you.”

Everything in the apartment disappears then, and it’s only the two of them. Heat floods Megumi’s system, until all there is is Yuuji. The smell of his shampoo, the warmth of his breath against Megumi’s skin, and those familiar fireflies that always come around when they’re together light up inside his stomach, fluttering up to the space around his stupid heart now too.

“Do you want to?” Yuuji asks against his ear, sending goosebumps to erupt across his entire body.

Megumi considers this. Should they talk about the date? Should he say something? Yuuji is acting like this was just a typical night for them, like nothing is different. He’s wearing gym clothes, of all things.

But the words are trapped in his throat, squeezing tighter and tighter and tighter.

Ultimately, when the weight of Yuuji’s hand lands on his thigh, Megumi is a goner.

“I always want to, Itadori.”

Yuuji smiles warmly, it’s one of Megumi’s favorite sights in the world. All thoughts and worries about their date earlier fizzle out behind the cotton in his ears and the rapid beating inside his chest as they kiss. They can talk about everything else later.

By the time Yuuji has laid out underneath him, he’s no longer thinking about anything other than calloused hands,pink hair, and honey brown lips.

They can talk about the date another time.

Yuuji says nothing of their date after that, and Megumi doesn’t bring it up either. Whether out of fear of embarrassment or rejection he’s not sure. But it’s been another two weeks now, and Megumi is starting to get irritated. Mostly with himself, considering he’s fallen for such a frustrating boy who might be the most oblivious person on the planet.

Maybe Yuuji is just as nervous to make whatever this is between them into something more, something official as Megumi is? Maybe he doesn’t even want it.

The counter rattles against the vibration of Megumi’s phone.

Itadori: remind me where we’re going today?

Megumi sends a quick text back with the name of the park they’re meeting at. There can’t possibly be a single way Yuuji could see this as something other than a date, he’s sure of it.

A pine-green picnic blanket pokes out atop the woven basket Megumi brought, along with an assortment of all of Yuuji’s favorite foods. He even made the meatballs Yuuji taught him how to cook back in high school. As he looks down at the filled picnic basket, a quiet sense of pride creeps in, and he bites back the smile playing at his lips.

Why does having feelings for someone feel like this?

Why does it have to be Yuuji?

Kindhearted, ridiculous, loud, warm, earnest Yuuji.

Megumi swipes his hand down his face and finishes getting ready, sending another quick text off that he’ll see him soon.

It’s the perfect time of year for a picnic. The sun is shining and the spring-warm rays sink into his skin. The air smells of flowers, and there’s a renewed energy in the air now that a new season has settled in.

Once Megumi is done setting everything up, he sits cross-legged on the patterned blanket and leans back on his hands. The cherry blossoms blooming around him frustratingly remind him of who he’s waiting for, and his heart skips a little when he looks over to see Yuuji walking towards him, adorned with a typical hoodie, the pale yellow one he’s had for years, and a too-bright smile on his face.

Megumi almost lets a smile tugging at his lips bloom fully—until his expression snaps back into a scowl the moment he sees that Yuuji isn’t alone. Nobara is walking right behind him, the two of them talking animatedly about something he can’t hear. She links her arm with Yuuji’s as they approach the blanket, but before sitting down she eyes the picnic spread warily.

There’s a knowing glint in her eyes as she pointedly tries to catch Megumi’s stare. Brows drawn together, clearly all the pieces of what this picnic is, clicking into place. She lets out a quiet snort before sitting down. 

“Oh man, this looks so good, Fushi. Did you make it all yourself?” Yuuji’s face lights up as he starts opening the various bento boxes and eyes all the food. 

“Yes,” Megumi answers, voice tight.

“Kugisaki, look! He made my meatballs!” Immediately, he dives in for those, which warms something inside Megumi, despite the annoyance at their uninvited guest.

“Hm, I only see two sets of chopsticks, Fushiguro,” Nobara states, her tone light but biting as her eyebrow lifts in question.

“Well,” he grumbles, “I wasn’t exactly expecting an extra person.”

“Just expecting Itadori then? All of this for him?”

Megumi’s cheeks go hot.

“Shut up, Kugisaki,” he says through clenched teeth.

“Huh?” Yuuji asks as the sound of his name, mouth full of meatballs already and food on his cheek.

“Idiot,” Megumi mutters, handing him a napkin. But based on the way Nobara looks at him, his tone must have come out softer than intended.

A small, embarrassed smile tugs at Yuuji’s face as he wipes it clean. Nobara only picks at the food, and when she tries to excuse herself—something Megumi would honestly welcome—Yuuji lets out a clueless whine and asks her to stay.

The look she exchanges with Megumi makes it clear: she sees right through it all.

Panic starts to creep in, slithering up his spine as she looks between him and Yuuji. Does she know? Not just that Megumi obviously has feelings for Yuuji, but that they’ve been hooking up for years quietly under everyone’s noses?

No. There’s no way anyone knows that, they’ve been discreet about it all this time, never wanting to explain it to others. The problem right now is that clearly Megumi set up a picnic for the two of them with all of Yuuji’s favorite foods. Which is very much not strictly platonic behavior.

Nevertheless, she doesn’t leave right then, and the three of them sit like it’s any other day, any other group hangout. ALl the while Megumi finds himself on completely uneven ground, lost on how to navigate the situation and his disappointment. 

By the end of the picnic, once all the food is eaten, Nobara and Yuuji annoyingly laugh and chat away, Megumi is sure she knows. Thankfully, she doesn’t say anything.

When she finally heads home for the night, and the sun starts to get lower in the sky, Yuuji still seems as oblivious as always.

“This was so nice, Fushi. I can’t believe you remembered my grandpa’s meatball recipe.”

“Of course I did, it’s important to you.”

Yuuji’s eyes soften, the golden hour light bathing him in almost amber hues. The freckles that have stayed hidden through the cold winter are starting to pop up again, and Megumi’s chest flutters.

This was so blatantly a date. Right? Does Yuuji truly not realize?

The night ends with them back at Yuuji’s apartment, and nothing more is said of the picnic.

A week later, Yuuji comes over late.

They spend their night the way they usually do, making dinner together, lounging around on the couch playing rounds and rounds of Mario Kart before ultimately ending up in Megumi’s bed. Yuuji, like usual, pinned underneath Megumi as he takes him apart bit by bit until they’re completely spent, laying side by side, sweaty and sticky and catching their breath.

This time though, like all the others since Megumi realized his feelings for Yuuji, feels different; something more magnetic about the way they come together. Currently, Megumi is indulging himself as Yuuji lays stomach down, hands pillowing his head while looking over, their gazes locked while Megumi gently traces his fingers across Yuuji’s back. Tracking every twitch, every subtle movement and reaction, every quiet sigh of contentment. 

“Hey Fushi?”Yuuji sits up a bit, cradling his cheek.

“Hm?”

“Are you going to Todo’s party next weekend?”

“Mm, I don’t know. You know how I feel about parties.” Megumi doesn’t love these big parties their friends tend to throw. He knows they’re in university and should be enjoying things like this while they’re still young. Gojo is always going on and on about how they shouldn’t rush to grow up. Just because they can shoulder the weight of adulthood early doesn’t mean they should.

Megumi knows that, and has heard it for years. Growing up under Gojo’s care, he’s seen the moments when that philosophy seems rooted in regret. Moments when Gojo talks about the past with that too-bright smile, and Geto looks at him like he’s carrying every unsaid thing between them. 

Their hands sometimes find each other in those moments. Like they’re still holding on to something they nearly lost. Gojo and Geto don’t talk about it much, but Megumi understands. It all happened before he was ever in Gojo’s care, but he’s always been perceptive enough to put the pieces together. He understands how hard they must have fought to have what they have now, considering the fact that they grew up too fast and nearly lost each other in the process. 

“Oh come on, you never come to parties. Come for me?” Yuuji bats his eyelashes, and Megumi almost gets hard again at the phrase. It must be noticeable because Yuuji laughs and grabs his hip. “Not like that—well, maybe like that if you wanna go again,” he winks.

“Shut up.” Megumi pushes his forehead away playfully.

“Really though, come to the party! We can go together, I’ll come pick you up first, and I’ll take you home whenever you’re ready.”

Could this be him asking Megumi to the party as his date?

“Fine.”

The smile on Yuuji’s face makes the fact that Megumi will have to deal with a party all worth it.

“So,” he says before pulling Megumi over and on top of him, “about round two?”

Before Megumi can make a sly remark, Yuuji is already kissing him.

Out of all their friends’ parties, Megumi hates Todo’s the most. They’re always over the top, with too loud music and cheap alcohol Megumi wouldn’t touch with a tenfoot pole.

Todo, however, has always been a great friend to Yuuji. A person Yuuji can rely on and picks him up when he’s down, so for that, Megumi supposes he doesn’t hate him.

Once again, Megumi found himself worrying over what to wear, eventually settling on a shirt Yuuji has complimented more than once. When he arrives to pick him up, the first words out of his mouth are “you look good.” and something flutters in Megumi’s chest. Their hands brush a few times on the way to the party, and each time, Megumi tried to gather the courage to intertwine their fingers, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to do it.

The thrum of the music blasting outside of the giant speakers pulses in Megumi’s ears the second they walk through the door. Yuuji has a hold of his wrist, dragging him through a sea of sweaty bodies that makes Megumi recoil. If it weren’t for the grounding weight of Yuuji’s fingers around him, he’d already be back home in his sweatpants and relaxing.

“You good?” Yuuji asks, turning to look over his shoulder. 

Megumi nods. They make it to the drink table, and Yuuji grabs them each a beer, opening it before handing a bottle to Megumi. When their fingers brush in the transfer, Yuuji’s honey-amber eyes look at him with reverence, like he’s the only person in the room. Megumi’s stomach does a dumb and annoying flip.

He’s going to be sick.

Why does his chest feel so light?

There’s no time to analyze it before Todo is pushing his way through people and throwing his arm around Yuuji. 

“You made it, brother!”

Megumi resists the urge to roll his eyes, quietly mourning the loss of Yuuji’s hand on him when it disappears so he can hug Todo back. The two fall into their usual animated banter, and Megumi tunes them out. 

He surveys the party instead, unimpressed: a group of already drunk guys being loud and obnoxious while a cluster of other people dance and laugh in a corner. His gaze shifts over and lands on Yuuta, Toge, and Maki.

Yuuta stands behind Toge with his arms wrapped around his waist, head resting on his shoulder, while Maki leans against the doorway nearby, arms crossed. She and Yuuta are both focused on Toge who is clearly in the middle of telling some sort of story, hands signing wildly as they both smile and laugh.

Just as he’s tipping his beer up to his mouth there’s a pinch to his side and he turns to find Nobara.

“Ow, what the fuck Kugisaki?”

She laughs. “Oh relax, don’t be so dramatic.”

Megumi rolls his eyes. “What do you want?” 

“Didn’t expect to see you here. You hate parties, especially Todo’s.”

Curse Megumi’s stupid eyes for shifting to find Yuuji, who has been whisked away to a group of people with Todo. Nobara grins ear to ear when he looks back at her.

“Ah, that explains it. Itadori asked you to come.”

“What?”

“Okay, let's have it, what’s happening with you two?”

“Nothing is happening.”

Nobara smacks him upside the head. “Don’t lie to me. I was at that picnic, that very romantic picnic. Itadori might not have caught on, but I did. So spill.”

Megumi tries to hold back, to keep his mouth shut, but Nobara is staring at him, and honestly, he feels like he might explode if he doesn’t say the words out loud to someone. 

“Fine. It was a date.” 

“Well duh, obviously it was a date. I want to know what’s going on. We all know you two have some sort of secret hookup thing going on.”

Megumi nearly spits out his drink. “What? I—we—no.”

Nobara gives him a look of pure indignation.  “You don’t have to lie. You two are way more obvious than you think. We all made bets about it years ago.”

Maki, Toge, and Yuuta join them now, and the entire thing gets worse for Megumi. 

“Did you ask him?” Maki leans in to ask Nobara.

“Yep, and he admitted it.”

“Can you two stop talking about me like I’m not here?” Megumi grits out.

Yuuta and Toge snicker, earning a sharp glare. The four of them exchange glances before Nobara says, “Fushiguro thinks he and Itadori haven’t been obvious.”

At that, Maki, Toge, and Yuuta all burst out laughing, and Megumi seriously considers punching them.

“Okay, I’m leaving.”

Toge grabs his wrist as he turns away, shaking his head when Megumi looks back.

“Yeah, you don’t want to leave Megumi, Itadori would be so sad and you don’t want your boyfriend to be sad, do you?” Maki teases. 

“I’m going to punch you.”

“Do you not remember us getting the same thing when Toge and I got together? We tried to keep it a secret for like a month? Right?” He turns to Toge, who needs an affirmation and leans his head on Yuuta’s shoulder.

“Well, you two were obvious,” Megumi snaps back. 

“And so are you and Itadori,” Toge signs.

“No, we’re not.”

“Yes, you really are. My guess is you’ve been hooking up since high school, third year maybe?”

“I guessed second,” Toge signs.

“I also guessed second,” Yuuta agrees.

“I thought first,” Nobara says.

“I wasn’t paying attention to the two of you enough to care back then, but I knew by first year of university something was going on.”

“I hate all of you.”

“Sure you do,” Nobara nudges him. “Anyway, does Itadori know you’ve taken him on two dates? I mean, he invited me to the picnic by calling it a casual hang.”

Something drops in his stomach. Megumi was sure he was making his intentions obvious. It’s not often they do things like that, just the two of them. Dinners, picnics, going to parties.

Megumi doesn’t get the chance to answer before Yuuji joins the group. A hand just grazing the small of his back in what would typically be a secret moment between the two of them. Now, Megumi feels the burn of all their friends' eyes on them before Yuuji moves to pour himself a drink.

“What’s with all of your faces?” Yuuji asks.

“Oh nothing, just talking about Fushiguro’s dating life,” Nobara answers while everyone else snickers.

Yuuji’s cheeks turn beet red. “Oh. Ah, anything interesting?”

He does not look at Megumi while he asks.

“No,” Megumi answers.

He shoots the group the most lethal glare he can manage until they finally get the hint and drop it. Of course, they don’t.

“I don’t know, Megumi, that guy looked pretty interested in you,” Maki says.

“What?” Megumi hisses.

From his peripherals, he sees how Megumi’s fists clench at his sides.

“Yeah, he was cute too. And I mean, you are single and have been for a long time, it’s only a matter of time until someone comes along and–”

Nobara is cut off when Yuuji grabs Megumi, dragging him towards the dance floor.

“Come on Fushi, I love this song, dance with me?”

Megumi tries to resist, but when he’s hit with those sad, pleading eyes, he sighs and shakes his head and gives in—if only to see the smile that follows.

Being in love is sickening.

Fuck. Oh fuck.

Megumi loves him. Is in love with him.

“You’ve gotta loosen up,” Yuuji says, bringing his hands to Megumi’s hips to give them a little shake.

“You know how much I hate this, don’t you?”

Yuuji smiles, warm and bright. “Yeah, but you don’t hate me. Which is the only reason you’re doing this.

Hate is the farthest thing from how Megumi feels for Yuuji.

Yuuji stays by Megumi’s side the rest of the night, even managing to get him to sway his hips a little bit on the dance flor despite it being Megumi’s worst nightmare. Having Yuuji like this, seeing him have fun, it makes something warm and honey-thick spread from his chest down to his toes.

Thankfully, Yuuji only makes Megumi stay one more hour before they can leave. Nobara finds them again, stealing Megumi away while Yuuji says rounds of goodbyes.

“You need to tell him.”

“I shouldn’t have to. I feel like it’s pretty obvious I’m taking him on dates. Plus, he asked me to the party tonight.”

She tips her chin. “It’s Itadori. You should know by now he probably doesn’t realize what you’re doing. Or even realize he’s allowed to have you in that way considering you’ve been doing this weird halfway thing for so many years. You need to use those sounds your mouth makes.”

Megumi’s eyes knit together in confusion.

“Your words, idiot!”

He groans in response. Spelling it out so clearly is the last thing he wants to do. The way he feels is already a lot to process, and to say them out loud is not only embarrassing, but terrifying. What if he’s been reading it wrong this whole time? What if Yuuji doesn’t want anything more and he ruins what they have now?

“Take him on one more date. If he still doesn’t catch on, then you need to say something.”

Megumi opens his mouth to retort, but before he can Yuuji is by his side again. “Ready to go?”

“I’ve been ready to go since we got here,” Megumi replies.

Yuuji laughs, his hand finding its place on Megumi’s lower back, guiding him towards the door. “Yeah I know. I’m surprised you lasted this long. Thanks for indulging me, I had a lot of fun.”

His warmth radiates through the fabric of Megumi’s shirt and up his spine. It pools in his cheeks, the blush unavoidable as he turns his head. As long as Yuuji had fun, then it was worth it.

“Yeah yeah, just get me home.”

Nobara calls over, waving them off. A thin eyebrow raised towards Megumi, and he ignores her silent message. He knows he should say something, get some clarity. Just, not tonight. So he shakes his head and turns away. 

All night those stupid three words sit heavy on the tip of Megumi’s tongue. Every time Yuuji laughs, or moans his name and begs Megumi to get closer, to go deeper; or flushes red underneath freckles cheeks, he is forced to summon every ounce of restraint to keep them from slipping out

Megumi knows this is getting bad now. 

He knows this because he’s come to Gojo for advice. He now takes back what he thought about dancing at a party. This might be his worst nightmare. 

“Tell me again,” Gojo says, one leg crossed over the other, arm spread wide along the back of the couch.

Megumi sighs. “I…have feelings for…someone.” 

“Tell me again,” Gojo says, sitting with one leg crossed over the other, arm spread wide across the back of his couch.

Megumi sighs. “I have…feelings…for someone.”

”Someone?” 

“Yes.”

”Just someone?”

He levels him with a flat look. “Can we stop pretending you don’t know?”

From the kitchen, Geto chuckles, and Megumi lets out an exasperated sigh, already regretting this whole idea. Gojo, naturally, is grinning now—wearing the most insufferable, shit-eating smile Megumi has ever seen.

“So,” Gojo drawls, eyes sparkling with amusement, “you like Yuuji. How long did it take you to figure out? Because I’m pretty sure you’ve been hopeless since day one. I was there, remember? You practically had heart eyes.”

“I already regret coming to you,” Megumi mutters. 

Gojo gasps, feigning mock offense. “Rude. But fine, fine. What kind of advice are you looking for? You want some big, dramatic declaration of love? A flash mob maybe? Fireworks? Skywriting?” 

Megumi shakes his head, face disgusted at the thought of making this a bigger deal than it already is.

“Satoru, this is Megumi. Of course he doesn’t want to do some big romantic gesture,” Geto interrupts, sitting on the coffee table across from them. 

“Oh come on, Suguru, it would be fun.”

”No,” both Megumi and Suguru say in unison.

Gojo whines, “Fine. So what do you want to know?”

Nervously fiddling with his hands, Megumi searches for the right words.

“How did you two…I mean, you were beat friends, right? So how did you tell each other when you realized it was—that you felt, more than that?”

Geto and Gojo glance at each other, a shared understanding passing between them. Geto smiles softly, warmth in his expression as he lingers on Gojo.

“Well,” he says, “to be honest, one day the words just sort of tumbled out.”

Gojo’s smile stretches out from ear to ear, eyes a little distance like he is replaying the moment in his head.

“Great, so you two are actually no help at all?”

Gojo leans forward. “Look, if I am as perceptive as I know I am, you and Yuuji have already been—“

”Do not say it,” Megumi warns, embarrassment hot in his gut.

Geto smirks over a muffled chuckle.

“Fine. You and Yuuji have already redacted.”

”I hate you,” Megumi states flatly, cheeks hot.

“I can’t imagine if you’ve been doing that for as long as I think you have, that Yuuji won’t reciprocate the feelings. You should trust him. He’s your best friend, right?”

”Yeah, he is.”

”Then you probably know him better than anyone. The chance he doesn’t feel the same way is slim. Take the risk.” 

Geto reaches over to grab Gojo’s knee, looking at Megumi. “The risk is worth it, trust me.”

Megumi presses the heels of his hands into his eyes. Maybe they’re right. Maybe Nobara and all their friends are right. As much as Megumi doesn’t want to, perhaps he needs to do the thing he’s been trying to avoid. 

Actually ask Yuuji out on a date, and make his feelings known.

This time, Megumi does everything he can to make it abundantly clear that this is a date. He invites Yuuji over for dinner and spends most of the day cleaning quite excessive, even though his apartment is already spotless.

He lights candles, dims the lights, and sets some low music playing in the background to set the mood; an atmosphere that is unmistakable romantic.

For dinner, he orders all of Yuuji’s favorite dishes from the restaurant he took him to a few weeks back—what Megumi had hoped would be their first date, though he doesn’t think Yuuji realized it. He specifically orders all the things Yuuji wanted to try but didn’t last time.

It’s another agonizing fifteen minutes picking out what to wear before settling on a black shirt and trousers. 

The clock ticks by slowly, each minute longer than the rest as he waits for the designated time he told Yuuji to come over, and he’s only late by two minutes. 

“Hey,” Yuuji says, walking in.

”Hi,” Megumi answers nervously.

He pauses, head swiveling around and taking in the setup. Honey-brown eyes land on the food, the  lighting up with excitement as he realizes where it’s from. He starts blabbering happily about it, clearly thrilled, and the sight alone is enough to make Megumi feel satisfied.

They sit, they eat, and as the night goes on, Yuuji doesn’t say a word about the candles, the tablecloth, or any of the obvious signals. He’s unsure how to bring it up.

But he hears Gojo and Geto in his mind.

Take the risk.

Even Nobara’s voice.

You need to tell him.

Megumi sets his napkin down on the table and leans forward, catching Yuuji’s attention. His heart pounds, nerves twisting in his stomach, but he gathers every ounce of courage he has, even if it makes him feel a little sick to say it.

”Hey, Itadori, do you realize this is a date?”

Yuuji’s eyes widen.” What?”

”This. What we’re doing. It’s a date.”This is a date?”

Megumi grimaces, hissing through his teeth. “Yes, obviously this is a date. Of course it’s a date. I lit candles, they’re a music playing, I ordered food from your favorite restaurant. Come on, we’ve been on like, four dates now. Do you really not—“

“Pfft, I think I’d know if we had been on four dates.” He waves a hand dismissively.

Megumi stares at him, incredulous. “What did you think that dinner was? Or when you asked me to Todo’s party? And the picnic? A picnic, Itadori. Did you really not know?”

Yuuji’s face flushes a lovely shade of pink, just a little darker than his hair. “Ah, well, I’m–” he clears his throat awkwardly. “So, Fushi, how’s our date going? Would you rate me as a good date?”

Megumi levels him a flat look, unmoved, even though his chest is screaming to reach out and touch him.

“Oh come on,” Yuuji says, grinning now, “we’ve been on like, four dates—I can’t be that bad!”

Megumi ignores him. “How did you not know?”

“Well, I did kind of wonder. But we always said we were just practicing for each other, right? I figured maybe you found someone else you actually liked, and those dates were just more practice or something? I never thought you’d actually want me.”

He glances away, sheepishly. “And the picnic? I really didn’t know. I wouldn’t have brought Kugisaki if I thought that was a date when you first invited me.”

The thought that Yuuji believed those dates were just practice for someone else hits Megumi like a punch to the gut. How could Yuuji think there would ever be anyone else for him? After all this time they’ve been friends with benefits, never really dating anyone else, how could he not realize?

Granted, it took Megumi a while to realize it himself.

Yuuji’s cheeks flush a soft pink, and Megumi has to fight the sudden, overwhelming urge to kiss him.

“Of course I want you. It’s only ever been you for me, really. Since I was sixteen.”

Freckled cheeks darken to red now, eyelashes fluttering as Megumi watches the gears turn.

“So you were really trying to date me this whole time?” 

“Yes, you idiot.”

Yuuji slides out of his chair and comes over, slipping into Megumi’s laps and looping his arms around his neck.

“Well, why didn’t you just say something?”

“Why didn’t you?”

Yuuji laughs nervously, but Megumi doesn’t make him answer.

“So, does this mean you want to be my boyfriend?”

Megumi rolls his eyes. “No.”

Yuuji’s face falls. “What?”

“Yes, Yuuji. Obviously.”

The widest smile stretches across Yuuji’s lips then, and Megumi is fairly certain there’s a matching one on his own. He cradles his jaw, then leans in to bring their mouths together in a kiss.

It quickly progresses into more, both of them desperate in their pursuit to touch, to have. Yuuji’s hands fiddle with the buttons of Megumi’s shirt as he undoes each one with precision, and Megumi’s hands dip underneath the hem of Yuuji’s own, ripping it up and off with a bit less care than Yuuji is taking with this shirt. Lips press to chests, necks, jaws, and cheeks, on noses and eyelids, anywhere they can reach.

They allow themselves every indulgence with the other’s body they can. They’ve had each other in almost every way a person can have another person, but this? This is something else entirely. A final line about to be crossed.

This is the last piece they’ve been saving, the piece they’ve been holding back for years. The one that means everything.

Megumi rises to his feet, Yuuji’s legs instinctively wrap around his waist as he carries him toward the bedroom. Every step is slow and deliberate, filled with a tenderness that sets this moment apart from every time before. It’s softer, more weighted. Because now, Megumi won’t have to wonder if it means to Yuuji what it means to him. Yuuji is his, and Megumi is Yuuji’s and it feels so fucking good.

“I can’t believe you were taking me on dates without actually telling me,” Yuuji whispers against him once he’s laid out on the bed.

“Shut up. You asked me on a date too.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t realize that’s what I was doing.”

“You came and picked me up for a party then spent almost the entire night with me and took me home. With your hand constantly on my lower back,” Megumi mutters between kisses across Yuuji’s jaw. “Hell, you made me dance.”

“Okay, looking back, I was probably subconsciously asking you on a date. But I really didn’t think you wanted to be with me like that. I thought there was someone else.”

Megumi pulls back, meeting his eyes and cradling his jaw. “There’s never been anyone else for me, Yuuji. Never. Even those few times I hooked up with other people, it was never the same. It was never you. I haven’t even bothered trying to see anyone else for years at this point.”

That favorite smile of Megumi’s spreads across Yuuji’s face, and he kisses him.

When Megumi slides into him slowly, watching every shift in Yuuji’s expression between their locked eyes, it feels like this is the last piece falling into place. He waits for Yuuji to adjust, then threads his fingers through soft strands of pink hair and begins to move. The taste of his skin sends those fireflies rushing to his stomach, on the edge of exploding when Yuuji whispers, “Fuck, Fushi, please.”

“I’ve got you, baby.”

Megumi takes in the sight of a blissed out Yuuji below him. He slips out, flipping Yuuji around until he’s holding his weight up on his knees. Megumi pulls his hips down onto him, chest to back as he rolls his hips up into Yuuji, hard. One of Yuuji’s hands grips Megumi’s thigh, the other shoots back to grip the dark roots of Megumi’s hair as he looks back.

WIth Yuuji’s head on his shoulder, Megumi reaches his hand around and strokes him just the way Yuuji likes. Hands dig into muscle, and nails scrape against skin like they’re trying to get even closer than they are.

When they finally crest over that edge together, Yuuji’s eyes shoot open, filled with lust and softness as they take in Megumi’s face while the words slip out, jumbled together like why’ve decided to say it at the same time.

I love you.

In the moments after, when Megumi’s arms are wrapped around Yuuji’s waist, holding him close, he decides maybe being lovesick for your best friend isn’t so bad.