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Megumi wasn’t the jealous type.
He really wasn’t. He doesn’t mind when his friends hang out without him, or when people have things he doesn’t. He doesn’t care what Yuuji does, not really—he knows that at the end of the day, he’ll always come back to him.
He just doesn’t like it when people touch his things, that’s all. According to Gojo, he’s always been like that.
The lounge is dimly lit and loud. Balls clack together as Okkotsu breaks another round of pool, Inumaki lining up for a shot. In the booth, Maki and Kugisaki are chatting, until Kugisaki sends a raised eyebrow over Megumi’s shoulder. “Who is that ?”
Megumi turns around towards the bar. There’s Yuuji, in the blue jeans that Megumi loves, chatting with someone—a guy sitting on a barstool. Yuuji’s smiling, all pretty and polite. Megumi can’t see the guy’s face, but he does see the way his hand touches Yuuji’s arm.
Nobara and Maki share a knowing look. Megumi rolls his eyes. He’s calm. He’s not the jealous type. He does squint when barstool calls the bartender over, and a moment later is handing Yuuji a drink.
Megumi’s fine. He takes a sip of his own drink, something with vodka and spicy ginger. He’s calm. He’s not the jealous type.
And then barstool leans in closer, running his hand up Yuuji’s arm. Fuck this.
Megumi throws back the rest of his drink, rising from his seat. “I’ll be right back,” he mutters.
“Okaaaaaay,” Nobara says, voice somewhere between worry and teasing.
Megumi comes up right behind Yuuji, hands on Yuuji’s hips. Yuuji startles, then relaxes. “Hi, babe,” he says, leaning into Megumi’s touch.
“Who’s this?” Megumi asks, meeting barstool’s eyes. He’s average. Brown hair. Brown eyes. A mole on his upper lip.
“Oh, this is Jiro!” Yuuji says, smiling up at Megumi. “Jiro, this is my boyfriend, Fushiguro.”
“Boyfriend?” Jiro asks, raising an eyebrow. Megumi tries to smile. It feels more like baring his teeth. Jiro sticks out a hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Megumi doesn’t shake it. “Pleasure.” He picks up the drink next to Yuuji. “What’s this?”
“Oh, he bought me a drink,” Yuuji explains. “Try it.”
Megumi takes a sip. Rum, and something fruity. “Hm,” he hums. “Baby, the girls were missing you at the table.” Yuuji makes a surprised face. Megumi never uses pet names in public. He orders another drink for himself.
“Oh,” is all he says. He glances towards the booth, where Kugisaki and Maki are intensely watching the interaction. Maki waves her fingers. Yuuji grabs Megumi’s hand. “Well, we should go then,” he says. He turns to Jiro, beaming a smile. “It was nice to meet you!”
He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Bye, Yuuji.” His smile falters as he looks to Megumi. “Bye.”
Megumi practically drags him back to the booth. He sets Yuuji’s drink down on the table before drinking his own in three big gulps. Kugisaki is watching him with big eyes. “Who was that?” Maki asks.
Yuuji starts to answer, but Megumi cuts him off. “No one important.” He puts down the empty glass a lot harder than he meant to. “I have a stomach ache, will you come to the bathroom with me?” Megumi asks Yuuji.
He looks surprised. “Okay, do you need to leave?”
Megumi shakes his head, grabbing Yuuji’s hand. “No, I just need the bathroom.”
He’s single minded as he drags Yuuji to the single stall toilet, purposefully ignoring the whistle Okkotsu gives them on the way over.
As soon as the door closes, Megumi’s pushing Yuuji back against it, turning the lock. A gasp leaves Yuuji’s lips. The washroom is tiny—a toilet, a sink, a mirror. “What were you doing?” Megumi asks, his breath ghosting across Yuuji’s face.
“What am I doing?” Yuuji scoffs. His breath smells like pineapple. He touches Megumi’s chest. “If you were horny, you could’ve asked—”
“What were you doing with Kiro—”
“Jiro?” Yuuji’s eyebrows furrow. “What about him?”
Megumi rolls his eyes. “What about the fact he wants to fuck you?”
Yuuji’s face flushes. “What? No he didn’t—”
Megumi laughs. “Sweetheart, I could see the looks from across the room.” He trails a hand down Yuuji’s arm. “The touches?”
Yuuji looks less scandalized and more embarrassed. “I thought he was being polite….”
“He bought you a drink. That’s prime ‘I wanna fuck you’ behavoir.”
Suddenly a look of panic washes across Yuuji’s face. “Megumi—I wasn’t— I wasn’t flirting.”
Megumi shakes his head, giving Yuuji a comforting smile. “Oh, I know.”
Yuuji looks down at Megumi’s chest. “I just—why would he…?”
Megumi’s hand comes under Yuuji’s chin. “Why would he what? Wanna fuck you?” He turns Yuuji to look into the mirror. “Look at yourself, baby.” Yuuji’s face burns redder as he meets Megumi’s eyes in the mirror. Megumi kisses his neck. “Who wouldn’t wanna fuck you?”
His lips go from kissing to sucking, his tongue and teeth forming a red bruise. Yuuji sighs, hand coming up behind him to thread in Megumi’s hair. “Baby,” he sighs, grinding his hips back into Megumi’s growing bulge.
“I’ve been wanting to take these off you since you put them on,” Megumi growls, fingers hooking on Yuuji’s belt loops.
“So do it,” Yuuji says, grinding back harder.
Megumi works his belt open, unzipping and unbuttoning the jeans, not wasting a second reaching in his boxers and cupping Yuuji’s cock. He shudders under the touch.
“Who wouldn’t want this pussy?” Megumi whispers, breath ghosting over Yuuji’s neck.
Yuuji melts in his arms. “Oh, fuck.”
“This goddamn body,” Megumi says, hand running up Yuuji’s torso, his abs, up to his chest. He tickles the surgery scars he knows that’s under his shirt, before pinching a nipple as Yuuji’s hips buck. “You’re sex incarnate, baby. I know everyone wants you.”
He walks them forward, and Yuuji’s hands come up to catch himself on the sink. Megumi pulls his pants and underwear down to Yuuji’s ankles, working two fingers inside him.
“Fuck me,” Yuuji gasps, clenching around the fingers.
Megumi laughs, covering Yuuji’s back with his front. “God, if only everyone knew how much you love cock.” That earns a loud moan from Yuuji. Megumi unbuttons his pants, pulling himself out, teasing Yuuji’s hole with both his fingers and his tip.
Yuuji’s watching them both in the mirror with lidded eyes, biting his lip. He lifts his leg, bringing his knee on the counter. “Please.”
Megumi pulls his fingers out, mouthing at Yuuji’s neck again as he sinks in. Yuuji lets out a long groan. “ Fuuuuck .”
“But everyone can’t have you,” Megumi says, setting a rhythm he knows has Yuuji’s toes curling in his sneakers. “Because you’re mine.”
“Yes, yes,” Yuuji gasps. “I’m yours, baby. All yours.”
Megumi groans. That shouldn’t be so hot. He thumbs at a nipple under Yuuji’s shirt, the other hand laying over Yuuji’s throat. Not squeezing, just there. Yuuji moans.
“No one else gets this,” Megumi whispers. “Because I’m selfish. I want you all to myself.” Yuuji’s meeting every thrust, trembling around Megumi. “No one, not even—what’s his name? Shiro?”
Yuuji shakes his head. “I don’t—I don’t know,” he pants. “Just you. I love you.”
Megumi squeezes his eyes shut. “I love you, too—I’m close—”
He reaches around Yuuji and thumbs at his cock, feeling Yuuji clench around him.”Shit!”
With two, three, four more thrusts, Megumi’s burying himself in Yuuji, resting his sweaty forehead on his shoulder. He works at his cock until Yuuji’s hips twitch relentlessly and he’s coming around Megumi.
Megumi’s arms come around Yuuji’s middle, kissing the skin exposed on his shoulder. They’re both breathing heavy, and Yuuji’s hands run up and down Megumi’s forearms soothingly.
Megumi looks up at them in the mirror. Yuuji’s as pink as his hair, eyes closed and looking blissfully fucked. Megumi can’t help but kiss his cheek. “Pretty baby.”
Yuuji’s face splits into a grin, turning his face and catching Megumi’s lips. They kiss in no hurry, exploring each other’s mouth. Yuuji tastes like rum. He licks behind his teeth.
“You know,” Yuuji says as he pulls away, “everyone would know I was yours,” he rocks back onto Megumi. “If you knocked me up.”
The words send shivers through Megumi’s whole body. His cock twitches. “Shit,” he whispers, grinding deeper into Yuuji. “Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me.”
Yuuji grins cheekily.
There’s a knock at the door. They both jump. Then Yuuji’s laughing as Megumi pulls out.
“You just wrecked my shit in a bathroom stall,” Yuuji whispers. He lets Megumi pull his pants up. “Maybe I should make you jealous more often.”
“Shut up,” Megumi says, tucking himself away. He goes to say something, then the words leave him, so he just says, “Shut up.”
Yuuji giggles, turning around and kissing Megumi. Megumi sighs into it, pinning Yuuji’s hips back into the counter. “Love you,” he whispers.
“Love you,” Yuuji says, beaming up at him.
Another knock. “Hello? I need to piss!”
Yuuji snorts, covering his mouth as Megumi unlocks the door. “Sorry,” he mutters to the woman on the other side, dragging Yuuji along with him.
When they return to the table, Maki and Nobara are looking at them expectantly. “You guys are animals,” Maki grumbles.
“What do you mean?” Megumi asks, sitting down, putting his arm around Yuuji. Yuuji rests his head on his shoulder. “I have a stomach ache. Yuuji made sure I didn’t puke.”
Okkotsu raises an eyebrow, standing over them with a pool stick. “Then what’s with that?” He nods to Yuuji’s throat, which is a lot more bruised than Megumi meant it to be.
Oh, well. Gets his point across.
“Oh,” he says, a small smirk playing at his lips. “That’s from after.”
Yuuji turns bright red, giggles, and turns his face into Megumi’s shoulder. Megumi bites down a grin.
“You guys are gross,” Kugisaki mutters.
Megumi doesn’t have it in him to care. Not when the pretty boy in his arms, all pink and soft and bashful, is his.