Archive of Our Own

It’s difficult to talk about the worst time in your life without sounding melodramatic. It’s all too heavy to think about. How do you casually broach the topic of having your body violently overtaken by an ancient curse—the king of them, in fact—without sounding… well. Traumatized.

Not that Megumi would call himself traumatized. He brushed it off fine. So what if there are times when the nightmares feel a little too real? Or when he spaces off for just a moment, only to snap back with adrenaline racing through his body because he could almost swear there was another presence encroaching on the corners of his mind? Or worst of all, when Sukuna’s voice rings in his ear with the last things he ever said during the battle of Shinjuku. So what if it still feels so… so real?

When will you realize that you are mine?

This body. Your technique. The very fabric of your soul. You have given it up to me.

Megumi stands in a quiet void where shadows drip like cold cavern walls tunneled far into the earth, pressed upon all sides by the weight of the world. Existence itself is thinner here, trapped within the confines of a prison of your mind, walled in by a curse. A dream. Or more aptly, a nightmare.

Sukuna has only allowed him to see the cruelest flashes of what’s going on beyond his pit of despair: Tsumiki, Gojo, every single hit he lands on Yuji. Every crease of pain that crosses his face. The brilliant red gash over his eye is like a banner of how he refuses to give up. Even when it would be so much easier. Megumi wishes he would. Just so it could stop. He just wishes it all would stop.

I can’t ask you to keep going. It’s just… I’ll be lonely without you, Fushiguro.

Sukuna’s cruel, barking laughter echoes through his ears. It shakes the warbling, twisting void of night he’s sunken so far beneath. But Megumi clings to the sound of Yuji’s voice. The promise. The hope. Fresh linen rustling in a sunlit breeze. A loud, kind laugh that fills a crowded kitchen just like the smell of garden-fresh tomatoes and pressed olive oil simmering over a low heat. In the cold, damp recesses of this shadow plane, Megumi tries to remember the warmth. The way it would blaze under Yuji’s skin whenever their arms brushed while walking alongside one another.

Maybe it’s too late. Every passing second, that dream slips further and further through his fingertips. Maybe Sukuna is right; it’s all hopeless. Megumi can never return from the things his body has done, the lives it has taken. He can never live a decent life.

There is a god that stands before him. A monolith of mindless cruelty and endless greed. Hulking, sneering with his four arms coiled in black and cursed bark embedded like a jagged mask over one half of his face. It towers. One wild, blazing eye spins like a disc off its axis. Mesmerizing and strange. Sukuna bears down upon him like a mountain range. Larger than his eye can see and older than his sixteen years can fathom.

Can you bear it? Can you bear living knowing what you’ve done?

You can never return to the life you had before you were mine.

Give up, Fushiguro. Don’t be a fool. You will never have a decent life.

Just be a good boy and leave everything to me.

Megumi stares straight through the god. On the other side, he can see little pieces of the world. A million fractals of violence and destruction reflected at him through slices of a shattered mirror. A world of smoke. The crumbling concrete. Yuji . Yuji takes the center of it all. Like a perfect yellow moon, on the backdrop of the cruel night: the light.

Blood and dirt cake his face. His freckles are all but hidden by grime. 

I’ll be lonely without you, Fushiguro .

 It wasn’t a plea. It wasn’t a way to blackmail Megumi into fighting. He said it only because it was the truth. Yuji draws his face tight. Jaw locked. He blinks once and one single tear carves a path over the curve of his cheek through the grit. Then, his gaze draws narrow. Eyes cold. He’s ready to fight Sukuna alone. Megumi realizes that confession was also a farewell.

Megumi realizes something else. He wants to try living for someone else.

Megumi woke up to a pounding headache and the sound of someone loud attempting to be quiet. The ceiling swirls into focus as he rubs at his eyes. He’s inside, cleaned up and laying back in one of the unoccupied rooms of Jujutsu High. Squinting at the light peeking through the cracked windows, Megumi sits up to just about the last thing he had expected to see.

Standing inside of a comically large box is Nobara in the middle of a hushed argument with Yuji, who holds the cardboard top aloft like a threat. Megumi tilts his head to the side as he watches them for a moment.

“No, I’m telling you, it’d be so much funnier if you yell something like ‘bazinga!’ Everybody loves the Big Bang Theory, Kugisaki. Megumi is gonna die laughing.”

“That is the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever heard. Also, nobody likes the Big Bang Theory. Especially not Megumi. I’m just going to say something like, ‘Guess who’s back bitch’ or maybe like, ’Surprise bitch!’—”

“Why do you have to call him a bitch though?”

Megumi clears his throat. The two whip over to look at him with bewildered expressions, as if it’s somehow surprising their conversation could possibly cause him to wake up.

“What are you doing?”

Yuji smacks Nobara with the box lid as he fixes Megumi with a sheepish smile. She immediately punches him in the arm.“We were gonna surprise you… but you woke up.”

Megumi leans back against the headboard. There’s a tired energy that buzzes over his skin and sinks right into his marrow. Honestly, he could sleep for another week. Instead, he looks between the two of them in a moment of rare quiet.

They’re both here. They’re all okay. Megumi tips his head back, resting his eyes for a few seconds as a small smile curls on the corners of his lips. They’re okay.

“Well, since Itadori ruined that surprise by being a loudmouth, I’m gonna go grab us some lunch.” Kugisaki decides as Megumi cracks his eyes open just in time to catch her marching to his bedside. Before he can comprehend what’s happening, Kugisaki wraps him in a rib-crunching hug that lingers just long enough for Megumi to hear his own heartbeat mellow. As she goes to pull away, there’s a whisper in his ear, “Itadori was a fucking mess while you were out. Be nice to him.”

She quickly slips out of the room, but not before shoulder-checking Yuji on her exit. The door clicks shut. There’s a little chuckle from Yuji as he rubs his arm. A handful of confetti drifts back into the box. The quiet that falls over them now is different.

“That was kind of a dumb idea probably,” Yuji says, giving the box a light-hearted kick before he shoves his hands in his hoodie pockets. “Kugisaki was just entertaining me, I think. Waiting for you to wake up was kind of annoying. Haha.”

The midday light filters through the sheer, billowing curtains just to carve Yuji’s profile with an outline of molten sunlight. That’s the laugh Yuji gives when he’s saying something more serious than he means to. A way to brush off the truth behind it. Then, he swallows, jaw tightening.

He’s nervous , Megumi realizes with a start.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.” Megumi offers, an attempt at a joke paired with an out of practice smile.

Finally, Yuji looks at him. Their eyes lock from across the room and Megumi’s breath catches from the sudden shock of realizing how he was waiting for that. Waiting for Yuji to look at him. For the first time since meeting the open book, Itadori Yuji, his face is utterly indecipherable. There’s this intensity blazing in his eyes that is only akin to the shift he takes in the thick of a fight. As if his light-hearted nature has been siphoned out, and in its place is nothing more than the bare, solid truth of his soul. Yuji, the sorcerer. The unshakable spirit who will stop at nothing to do what is right. No matter what it takes. No matter how it hurts.

Yet, this is different. No pain creases his freckled face. And those honey-black eyes simmer with something like tenderness. Slowly, as if stalking toward a skittering fawn, Yuji moves to his bedside.

Megumi braces his palm flat on the sheets, sitting up straighter as he comes closer. A whiff of Yuji’s basic aftershave has something inside his chest caving for a time he’ll never return to. His other hand moves of its own accord, palm open and outstretched. You know, Megumi never thought he’d miss that scent. A spice so strong that it burns. Almost offensive. Yet, it smells like the nights spent sleeping in each other’s rooms and watching bad movies until they both passed out. It smells like home.

Yuji takes his hand. Megumi inhales sharply as his other comes to hold his cheek.

Those eyes are much too close now. God above, Megumi could fall right in. He closes his eyes, lips parted so slightly around an exhale that trembles. The palm of Yuji’s hand is warm but rough. The calluses hold his face so gently, the tenderest of friction to keep him grounded in the fact that this is real. Even if it hardly feels like it.

“I’m okay with waiting, Fushiguro.” His voice is as quiet as he’s ever heard it. Megumi’s eyes drift close as he leans into Yuji’s palm, hanging on every word spoken so sweetly. Still not quite a whisper, but subtlety is still something Yuji has yet to learn. Megumi hopes he never does. “Like when you take forever in the shower and all the hot water is gone.”

Megumi turns so his smile presses into the lifeline of Yuji’s palm. The closest thing they’ve ever had to some kind of kiss. “I knew that bothered you.”

“Um, yeah, of course it bothered me. It would, like, be hot for just long enough for me to think, oh awesome, maybe Megumi didn’t take all the hot water this time and I can get my scrub on without my balls jumping up inside my body —and then ice fucking cold glacier water when I was finally…” Megumi opens his eyes and stares up at Yuji through his lashes. His next word comes as a sigh, soft and reverent, “pretty.”

Megumi raises an eyebrow. “Pretty?— Mmph!”

Yuji kisses him.

Cradled in the palm of Yuji’s hand as his lips land on Megumi’s open mouth, Yuji kisses him. It lasts a single moment. Far, far too short. The surprise rattles through Megumi’s body and graces him with a spike of adrenaline that has him wondering how he had ever considered going back to sleep just moments before. It breaks for just a single second as they both draw a sharp breath from the other’s mouth. Then, Megumi is clutching onto Yuji’s neck as he fully cups Megumi’s face in his hands and kisses him properly.

It’s a shock to the nervous system and fate all at once. Megumi’s head hits the pillow with the force of Yuji’s kiss, and god— god— a giddiness that fills his body that no part of him can contain. A parade of joy clambering inside his chest. The cymbals, the drums, all the band kids in their stupid tasseled uniforms. A rainforest of butterflies erupting into the air. There’s nothing to do but smile until their teeth clack. So broad it makes his cheeks sore. He can feel Yuji smiling back. The length of Yuji’s body sinks against his own and under the warmth of that perfect weight, a laugh slithers from his lips and escapes into the heated gap of space between them.

“W-what—” Abruptly, Yuji jerks back, completely and utterly disheveled. There’s a pink cowlick sticking straight into the air, and his eyes are hazy. Almost like he got startled awake in the middle of a particularly good dream. He blinks rapidly, refocusing as he scans Megumi up and down in a state of panic. “Did I hurt you? Shoko said you were still healing up—fuck. Shit— dammit . I meant to kiss you after you were feeling better. This is bad timing, isn’t it? Are you hurt though?”

Megumi blinks slowly, like a displeased cat. “That was a laugh.”

“Oh.” Somehow, Yuji’s face turns a darker shade of pink. He swallows. “Was it that bad?”

Megumi has to look away from Yuji to keep himself from laughing once again, pretending to think about it. “Hmm. Do you want me to put it on a number scale or a letter grading?” His lips buzz. If Yuji looks close enough, he might notice how his hands are shaking. A kiss that leaves you flickering like firelight. “Maybe just constructive criticism?”

“Ah,” Yuji swallows again, his brows furrowing together as he mulls over his options. “Maybe just rate it on a scale from one to ten. I could also take pointers… if you, um, had any qualms with the, uh, service.”

Megumi nods at his selection. “Right. We’ll probably have to do it again for a more accurate rating. Maybe even a third time.”

Slowly, a smile splits across Yuji’s face as he realizes he’s been the butt of a very obvious joke. A low hum purrs in his throat as he closes the space between them once again.

“Maybe we’ll have to try it a couple dozen times. I don’t know.” Megumi’s words stumble into thoughtless murmurs as his eyes drift close at Yuji’s approach. He sounds far more confident than he feels. This time, the kiss is nothing more than a slow peck. Yuji’s thumb pets over his cheekbone. “ Mmm , I like to be thorough with my reviews, you know.”

Yuji holds his head like putty between his hands. Little kisses flutter against his lips, against the corner of his mouth, the tip of his nose.

“Oh, I know. I’ve seen your Yelp page. That Subway in Shibuya still recovering.”

Megumi smiles, melting into every lavishing touch. “Well, he didn’t honor the discount that was clearly on display all across the store. I was very polite about it. He was the one causing issues.”

“Obviously. I only hope you’ll be as fair with me.”

“Well, that all depends on how you deliver.”

They both grin and snicker at equally stupid innuendos. In the end, it doesn’t matter that they’re both horrible at kissing with far, far too little experience. There’s no end in mind. Nothing but the pure, unadulterated giddiness of realizing they can finally have what was never possible before. That every longing look, every lingering touch, all the times they said it in every way but aloud, has finally come to this. Happiness as a Jujutsu sorcerer in a world of curses.

Things don’t turn out like Megumi had hoped. For the next few years, there was far too much rebuilding to be done instead of watching laundry dry in the sunlight or cooking any sort of meals together. So much death had left gaping power vacuums in every corner of the jujutsu world. Holes only they could fill. He can count on his hands the number of times he got to see Yuji in person as they all spread across the world, hunting the curses that had remained, and collecting postcards with Yuji’s scratchy I love youuuu! ’s scribbled on the back. And every time was just like the first. A reminder of what living is for.

“Happy birthday, Yuji.” Megumi slides a very shoddy-looking chocolate cake with mismatched candles alight with little orange flames on the table in front of him.

“You have to sing it!” Nobara shouts from the laptop propped up on the other end of the table. She shares the screen with a less-than-impressed Maki. “What kind of shit show birthday party are you throwing if you don’t sing it? Also, where’s the sake? You have to get him drunk tonight!”

Megumi scowls at her pixelated face from across the table. “I was going to get around to it. Can you shut up?”

Nobara flips him off, then leans closer to the camera like that will make her louder. It kind of works. Or maybe she’s just started shouting. By the grimace on Maki’s face that seems to be the more likely option. “Come on, don’t you wanna hear Megumi start us off for your birthday, Yuji?”

The birthday boy in question just grins. As if there’s nothing more he could ask for beyond his friends bickering at each other. Yuji tilts his head back and meets Megumi’s eye. There’s a taunting twinkle there, but all too quickly it dissolves into adoration instead. Megumi knows he’s just as bad. If he so much as looks at Yuji for too long, he starts to forget where he is. It’s just been… so long since they’ve been together.

“Eugh, oh my god, stop fucking each other with your eyes and sing the stupid song!”

Yuji grins, his hand holding Megumi’s waist. “The birthday boy does kind of want you to sing it.”

Megumi rolls his eyes, before counting down to sing. Though, it’s more like speaking the lyrics with the idea of a melody rather than a genuine serenade. Immediately, Nobara and Maki join in—although they just scream the words rather than attempt singing either. They make a lot of stupid noise as the song ends and Yuji blows out his candles. Cheers and applause and far too much excitement that Yuji basks in like a dog in a patch of sunlight.

Nobara crowds the screen with her face once again. “What’d you wish for?”

Maki is quick to wrestle her back and the call becomes a mess of limbs for a moment until Nobara is subdued under the crux of her girlfriend’s arm. Maki sends a very pointed look in Megumi’s direction. “I don’t think we really want to know.”

That makes Yuji laugh. Which makes Megumi smile. They all descend into the never-ending ordeal of catching up. Nobara flies into a long-winded story about a curse she had been tasked to deal with in her latest excursion to Taiwan, while Maki updates them on her progress within the Zen’in clan. Yuji mentions some of his missions, though, after all the sake, he’s started to ramble.

“And what about you?” Maki asks Megumi, cutting into the end of Yuji’s story as he starts murmuring to himself on the semantics of whether the curse was a first or special grade.

Megumi blinks. He looks at Yuji on impulse and finds that smile waiting for him like always. “Well, I’m pleased to say that I’m done running around for the time being. Things have finally calmed down enough for Jujutsu High to open back up as a school and I’m going to start teaching soon.”

Nobara’s mouth drops open as Maki gives a genuine congratulations. Megumi allows himself to feel excited for a moment, despite all the coexisting fear. It’s difficult to imagine himself instructing kids when Yuji and Nobara’s antics alone are enough to give him a migraine.

“And later this year, guess who’s gonna be joining him.” Yuji beams at the girls on call, before shifting that ray of adoration back to Megumi. He pulls the other man right onto his lap and smacks his cheek with a noisy kiss. “This guy.”

“Are you guys going to finally make it official and live together?” Maki prods as Nobara smiles deviously beside her.

“Yeah, and much-much-much more importantly, are you finally going to stop dicking around and fu—”

Instant panic. Megumi slams the laptop close. Bitch . He told her that in confidence. The small fact that it’s been years since he and Yuji have gotten together and that they still have not…

Yuji tilts his head, in his direction, an eyebrow arching. “That was a little rude.”

“There’s only so much Nobara a guy can take.”

Yuji huffs. He twists forward a little more, trying to get a better glimpse of his face. “I didn’t know you told her about the fact we haven’t… um.” Yuji purses his lips thoughtfully, the fact they both struggle to even say it is telling enough. “Was it like a rant or…”

Megumi sighs and shakes his head. “No, of course not. I hardly see you enough to have anything to rant about. Well, except for the fact that I don’t get to see you. Yeah, that gets a little irritating.”

“It irritates me too.” Yuji blinks back at him, eyes so brown and earnest. “More than irritating.”

Despite himself, Megumi feels his heart tick faster at the thought of that. The thought of Yuji wanting him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Yuji exhales the word, forcing Megumi to draw in a sharp breath as those broad hands slide up the curve of his waist. The fabric bunches between his fingers, pinky just barely brushing against the bare skin of his waistline. Almost innocent, but not quite.

Megumi slips out of Yuji’s hold. Immediately, there’s a shadow of disappointment that flickers across his boyfriend’s face, but it’s gone just as soon as Megumi’s hands are on his shoulders, fully straddling Yuji in his seat. There’s a stuttered breath falling from his strawberry sake-flavored lips and Megumi doesn’t hesitate before tasting it. He would say kissing Yuji is just like the first time, but that’s not exactly true. It’s better. So much better.

Yuji has learned where to put his hands now. He’s learned how to lean in nice and slow and make the lowest groan in the very back of his throat that itches Megumi’s brain just right. There’s so little space between their bodies, but Megumi fills it anyway. He leans in until their heartbeats race against one another. The only marathon he could ever hope to place against Yuji. It’d be close though. Yuji inhales all at once against his skin as his hand comes up to clutch Megumi’s face with all the desperation of a man fixing oxygen to his mouth in a plane crash. No one in this world could make Megumi so damn nervous .

“It’s so…” Yuji pants into Megumi’s open mouth as their hips slide together. “It’s so rude to end a call like that.”

Megumi can feel his mind edging out of this encounter. A beautiful fuzzy numb. The moment your thoughts fade into nothing but the sensation of your body. Every scrape of Yuji’s calluses on his waist. He slides his palm over Yuji’s collarbone and down until he can indulgently squeeze one of his firm tits beneath his hand. It draws another low sound from Yuji’s chest that has his stomach fluttering with heat.

“So rude.” Megumi agrees, biting down on his boyfriend’s bottom lip and tugging. “And yet, I don’t care.”

Yuji crushes their bodies together, kissing him hard. So hard that Megumi can feel his lips bloom with future bruises. As if there’s too much feeling in Yuji’s body, and he has no choice but to throw it all at him or combust. Not that Megumi minds. He likes it when Yuji kisses him like this. Like he’s dying. As if kissing Megumi drives him to the very brink of losing his mind.

“Are we really doing this?” Yuji breathes, breaking apart just far enough to lock eyes. His eyes look hazy. Dark, slivered moons of night. Megumi shivers at the sight. Sometimes the way Yuji looks at him is altogether overwhelming. Adoration. Utterly complete and wholly devastating adoration.

Megumi breaks the contact by ducking closer to kiss up his jawline. The taste of Yuji’s skin is soothing. He’s switched that awful aftershave out for something more suited. Zingy lemon and mandarin with base notes of pink pepper. Like a summer salad. Something alive and bright. Like Yuji.

Megumi curls his fingers in the feather soft scruff of his undercut. There’s something wrong with him, Megumi knows that. There’s a truth that neither of them talks about. It would have been easy to find a day to meet up and take all the steps every relationship naturally progresses through. Yuji would have been all too happy to do so.

Megumi has been avoiding it.

Why? God, it feels so fucking good just to kiss him. Even better to feel the weight and heat of his body. The friction of skin on skin. Yet Megumi has been avoiding him.

Because he’s a coward. He would like to know why. He’d like to dig through all the nasty, dark parts of himself and find the answer. Ah, yes, here it is the inexplicable reason I’ve been avoiding a life-changing fuck with my super hot boyfriend . Megumi is too much of a coward to even do that much. It’s frustrating. In more ways than one.

He’s scared and he doesn’t know why. Knowing why is part of the terror. Maybe he doesn’t want to find out. Maybe he just wants to do it anyway. To push right through and make it happen. What’s the worst that could happen?

“Yes,” Megumi says, hiding from Yuji’s eyes as he presses kisses to his neck. “We’re doing this.”

The night is perfect. Every window is open, wispy curtains shuddering in the soft, honeysuckle breeze. Shafts of moonlight cut across the unmade bed, painting the edges of Yuji’s cheekbones and making his freckles bloom lilac. Everything feels like the silent rippling of water after a polished pebble breaks the surface. A supple movement. The music of their bedsheets shifting as Yuji’s knees make the mattress around him dip, hovering over Megumi like a sheet of stars, too pretty for poetry and so large it makes his head spin circles.

This is perfect , Megumi repeats to himself as watches his fingers curl in the mop of pink curls ducked into his neck. Kisses brand his throat. A searing, all-consuming blaze. He’s going to leave marks . Megumi’s jaw tightens as a conflicting swirl of trepidation rises in his chest.

Does that excite him?

Megumi exhales a shaky breath. He slips a hand between their bodies to pull at Yuji’s belt. Immediately, Yuji bites the meat of his shoulder. A pulse of shock and the lightest pain, immediately soothed by a kiss.

Or does it scare him?

Yuji’s hands are so sure, so solid. Just as they’ve always been. Even with this— especially with this—he moves with complete and utter confidence. The physical things have always come so easily to him. The way he controls his own body. Megumi gasps as Yuji grabs him by the waist and manhandles his entirety back against the pillows smushed against the headboard. The way he can control anybody’s body.

Megumi’s hands fall from Yuji’s hair to clutch instead at the sheets. As if bracing for a tempest. His eyes flutter open as he feels the other boy sit back, still kneeling on top of him. That bright grin shines down upon him. The dark glittering jewels of his eyes burn with the same fire that twists inside Megumi’s heart, though with no hint of the same turmoil. Or any turmoil at all.

Yuji peels off his shirt and tosses it to some shadowy corner of the room. The floral-perfumed breeze tousles his hair, curls fluttering like pale rose petals. Moonlight drowns him. Yuji has always looked best in sunlight, blazing gold, but under pale luminescent moon shafts and starlight, he is cast in silver and it is breathtaking. The night is perfect. Yuji is perfect. It all comes together like a movie scene. All the clever motifs and themes thread into one delightfully crafted and ultimately satisfying aha. A moment made for this. For them. For Megumi to stop running and kill what is left of his terror.

So then why is he petrified in place, white knuckles taut in the bedsheets, staring up at Yuji with his rabbit heart thumping in his throat?

“So good…” Yuji murmurs, as he sinks back into the space between them. His eyes are hazy and heavy-lidded while his gaze never leaves Megumi’s. Wide, warm palms enclose over his fists, caging him. His voice is like a honeyed trap. Sweet, low, and thick as a thorned briar. “You don’t have to do a single thing, Megs. I got you. Just leave everything to me.”

Just leave everything to me.

In the very back of his mind, Megumi can hear it. Laughter. The cold, cruel laugh of a dead god. Dead, but for the last piece of him still buried in him like a slender shard of glass. Unnoticed, but unhealing. A blade embedded until hit just right.

Megumi hadn’t even noticed that Yuji was kissing him until its abrupt end. Yuji jerks back as if he’d been struck. He looks blurry. Hazy. As if he’s looking at Yuji through a puddle of water.

“Megumi—” His voice is so soft with concern heavy enough to break a mountain. “You’re crying.”

Megumi blinks quickly, looking down. He swipes at his eyes and finds his palms shiny. The moonlight makes it glimmer. His mouth parts around something to say. An excuse, maybe. Or maybe a laugh to cut through the horrible reality of this moment he’s now ruined.

Instead, he drags in a ragged breath and his exhale is a quiet sob. Megumi wipes his eyes with his sleeves but the tears don’t end. God, he doesn’t even understand it. It seems so stupid. So ridiculous. Pathetic . He’s fully crying for the first time since he was a child and it’s over something so stupid as—

“What’s wrong?” Yuji whispers as he moves to sit beside him. There’s an endearing layer of fear in his voice, entangled with the sweetest concern. “Megumi?”

Just be a good boy and leave everything to me.

Megumi tries not to think about when he lost control of his own body. The river. The endless midnight. The cold, lonely world that could have been his eternity. An eternity as a marionette. A doll. A puppet . A thing to be used and with no purpose beyond that cruel, cruel master.

There’s a touch on his cheek. Megumi flinches. Blinking away the fog, he sees Yuji’s hand outstretched, frozen as the tears he wiped away shimmer on his knuckles.

“Megumi…”

He scrunches his eyes shut tight, drawing in another breath as he turns away from Yuji’s steepled brow and his eyes softer than sunlight. Away from his concern, his tender touch, and all his unearned adoration.

“Sorry.” Megumi croaks, fighting— clawing— to get some sort of a grip. “I don’t know—I don’t know why I’m crying.” A mirthless laugh. “So stupid.”

There’s a rustling beside him as Yuji shifts. A heavy silence beats before he breaks it. “Maybe you’re just really, really excited?”

Megumi sighs, huffing an exhale that could be amusement. A sickly feeling curls in the pit of his stomach. Like snakes tying themselves in scaly knots. At Yuji’s voice, at the offensively obvious attempt to make him smile, the feeling lifts—ever so slightly.

He shoves at Yuji’s shoulder. His boyfriend makes an exaggerated yelp as he tumbles over. He makes a show of it. Yuji settles back with a couple of feet between them. A way to give him space without making it awkward. Megumi feels sick with love for a moment—even if his current dilemma quickly turns it cold.

“I’m sorry.” The sudden somber tone has Megumi’s throat closing. He looks into Yuji’s face to find the attempt at levity replaced by pure guilt. It turns his blood leaden. “I never want to make you cry, Megumi. It actually kind of freaks me out a little—I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Yuji—”

“No, god , what was I even doing? I swear I’ll be better next time. Or there doesn’t even have to be a next time. I mean, we can just stay like how we’ve always been forever. Like, I’m completely okay with that by the way. You’re all I care about. I mean like, probably all I’ve ever cared about this much at least. Like, I’d even put on a chastity belt or—”

Megumi snaps. “ Yuji.”

The room goes quiet. On the other side of the bed, Yuji swallows his next breath. Already, Megumi’s head thuds with the oncoming headache courtesy of his outburst. His gaze drifts away from Yuji, following the sway of the curtains in the pull of a midsummer draft. The panic still simmers under the surface, but it wanes, cooling as Megumi remembers where he is. Who he is with. Though he tried to outrun it, the wrongness seeded deep in his spine pulled itself out at last. He was forced to understand. Forced to realize that though Sukuna may be dead, some parts of him linger.

What a sick realization that is.

Megumi closes his eyes for a moment. Shame settles on him like a second skin. Sukuna still lives because of him. Because that fear… that insidious, coiling shard of fear is still there. It’s muddied him. Like a glass of clear water spoiled by a single drop of ink. Like a beaten dog unable to tell the hand that hurts from the one that feeds.

He knows that Yuji is not Sukuna. The comparison is cruel. Megumi knows he’s wretched for thinking it. For being scared. He’s even more wretched for wanting to be held by the same man he just shoved away.

“Can you come here?”

Yuji blinks at the request. As if stunned for just a moment, before he scrambles to the spot Megumi pats his side. Stiffly, he sits there, waiting for his next instruction. Megumi puts a hand on the center of Yuji’s chest, easing him back to lean against the headboard. Then, he lifts Yuji’s arm and tucks himself against the side of his body. It’s warm. Familiar. This time, when Yuji wraps his arms around him it’s slow and gentle. Safe.

It’s a long time, minutes and hours before Megumi speaks again. “I’m sorry.”

Somewhere outside, in the pale dark, a rooster crows.

“Please don’t say that.” Yuji murmurs, voice drowsy and soft.

“But I am.” Megumi grimaces as a twinge of that sickly feeling twists in his chest like an aftershock. “What a shitty birthday surprise.”

Yuji scoffs. “Oh, come on. Nothing will be worse than the year Nobara flew down to visit without telling me and literally broke into our apartment to scare me shitless. Maki needs to be put behind bars for teaching her how to pick locks.”

Megumi huffs an amused breath into the side of Yuji’s chest. “Nobara would just break her out.”

Yuji laughs softly. Megumi closes his eyes so he can feel it bloom against the inside of his rib cage, the signature of his lungs. If he could be buried in a feeling it would be that one. The way Yuji’s laughter sounds and the way it feels against his own body. The magic of those two things combined.

There’s no one else who has ever made him feel like this. Doughy and soft. Completely undone. That’s part of what makes it so scary. It’s all too easy to melt in Yuji’s hands. To let him—to want him to do everything. In his head, Megumi is fine with handing his body to Yuji. That’s precisely what he wants. It’s what he’s wanted for a very, very long time. Yet, the moment he inches close to surrendering himself, it’s his body that revolts. Nausea that fills him with the same black dread from when he lost himself the first time.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” Yuji speaks again after a little while. His way of saying that he still very much wants to talk about it.

Megumi considers it. The full truth would be too much. To be so honest about the extent of Sukuna’s damage is something he would rather not trouble Yuji with. He carries enough guilt for the things Sukuna has done. Ideally, Megumi would be able to push himself through these feelings until they go away. Clearly, that didn’t work. Now Yuji is worried about him. On his birthday, no less. Ugh . No, Megumi needs to be careful about this. He needs to frame it so that Yuji can’t find a way to swallow the blame.

“It’s okay,” Megumi says, before adding after another moment of deliberation. “It’s something I’ve avoided for a while. I… I think I have control issues.”

He braces himself for Yuji’s immediate soothing. For the no, no of course you don’t or the well-intentioned I don’t think you have control issues—you’re a good person, Megumi! or any equivalent to him disagreeing as if Megumi has shared some sort of insecurity rather than an objective fact. Instead, Yuji snorts.

Megumi snaps up, squinting at Yuji’s attempt to suppress a smile. His boyfriend immediately shifts his eyes away, biting on the inside of his cheek to hide his amusement.

“What’s so funny?”

“It’s not funny.” Yuji mumbles, still avoiding his eyes. “It’s just a, um, a teensy bit obvious.”

Megumi blinks at him, deadpan.

“I mean, okay let me think—you always have to have the TV remote.”

“You’re bad at adjusting the volume. And you take too long to type things out.”

Yuji raises an eyebrow. “You always drive.”

“You go too fast.”

“You pick out my outfits for our dates.”

Megumi looks aside at that one. “Well, right, okay—you’re so indecisive though. And your style is… questionable.”

“Uh-huh.”

Megumi bites at his thumbnail, thinking. Maybe he hadn’t realized what having ‘control issues’ actually meant. He can’t have always been like this. He doesn’t remember caring so much about so many meaningless things. Or about the volume of the TV and the clothes Yuji wears. Yet, it’s become his normal. To start weighing in on every little choice whether it matters or not. Megumi doesn’t even want to think about how annoying he’s been.

“I see.” Megumi mumbles.

To his surprise, there’s a kiss that lands on his temple. When Megumi looks up at Yuji, the next is pecked onto his lips.

“I don’t mind, you know,” Yuji’s voice softens. “If you need control, then you can take it. Just as long as it’s me you’re controlling, I don’t mind.”

Megumi is trapped by those wonderful brown eyes somewhere between fondness so heavy it’s suffocating and a profound sense that he should resist this. He shouldn’t want this control in the first place. It shouldn’t make him so happy when Yuji is all too eager to hand it over. Yet he does.

Taking his silence as an answer, Yuji sidles down against the pillows and drops his head back to close his eyes. “If you want to try again, we can do it that way. You could tie me up.” Yuji chuckles at the thought, laughing it off, but Megumi watches his cheeks grow a little pinker. “Spank me when I misbehave.”

Megumi huffs, looking away from him as the image unhelpfully barges into his head. A sweat-slick Yuji strapped down before him, helpless and begging. He brushes it away just as quickly.

“How considerate.” Megumi drops his head back atop Yuji’s chest a little harder than necessary. If one thing’s for certain, it’s that there is no control issue strong enough to ever make Megumi even consider that offer. “I think I’ll pass.”

Turns out, Megumi does consider the offer. He considers it quite a lot, actually. He considers it in the shower the next day, which forces him to turn the water cold. Even as Yuji returns to his missions and Megumi returns to the upcoming school year, he considers what it would be like to have another person under his thumb. Subject to every whim. Completely under his control.

Not that he should be playing into this. Megumi has a problem. A sensitivity to control when he’s not the one wielding it. It’s something that he should work through. That he should challenge. The Yuji-shaped conscience in his head tells him so. Yet, it doesn’t hurt to fantasize. No, there’s nothing wrong at all with fantasizing.

That’s what he tells himself anyway.

Yuji left the next morning like nothing had changed at all. A lengthy farewell at the door that starts with a peck on the cheek, then the forehead, then a full-on assault all over his face. Then, Yuji detaches from him with a wistful sigh and two of the glummest puppy-dog eyes, before racing to the bus stop to catch his flight.

Megumi always hates that part the most. No matter how many times Yuji turns back around to wave and blow kisses. No matter how quickly he sends the ‘ I miss you already ’-texts. Watching Yuji leave is always the worst part.

And so Megumi is left with nothing but the fantasies.

While Megumi begins drafting lesson plans for the newest generation of jujutsu sorcerers (arguably more work than Gojo ever put into their curriculum), Yuji is passed around from base to base, mission to mission. It’s like he’s trying to kill as many curses as humanly possible before he settles down. Admirable, if only it didn’t mean that Megumi is now forced to wait until Christmas to see him again.

“I don’t know if I’m gonna make it…” Yuji sighs on the other line—a very long, dramatic sigh at that.

Megumi rolls his eyes where he’s tending to a pan of sad scrambled eggs on the stove-top, phone cradled between his shoulder and ear. “Stop being a baby. It’s just a couple more months.”

It’s much easier to tell Yuji to stop than to make himself do the same. Frankly, Yuji’s absence has been a growing thorn in his side. Just like a chronic pain that keeps getting worse no matter how good you are at ignoring it.

“Hmm, I don’t know. You need to give me something to live for, Megumi. OH! I know. We should throw a Christmas party!”

Megumi grimaces at the thought, even if Yuji can’t see his face. “No.” Immediately cue Yuji’s disappointed groan on the other line, “Who would I even invite? Yaga and Meimei? No thanks.”

“Well, okay, it can just be us then.”

“That’s not even a party, that’s just Christmas.”

There’s a brief pause. Just Christmas. The two of them. The thought has Megumi feeling a little warm.

“It’ll be our first Christmas together.” Yuji realizes. “Yeah, I think that should be enough to keep me going.”

Megumi rolls his eyes and turns off the stove now that his eggs are just burnt enough to be unenjoyable. He adds a little salt and pepper as if that will salvage them. “You’re very easy to please, you know.”

He can practically feel Yuji’s smile through the phone. “It makes gift shopping easy. You know I still haven’t gotten myself a PS5. Isn’t that sad?”

“Devastating.”

“Have you gotten any presents for me yet, Megs?”

Megumi startles a little at the question. Not that it should be surprising in the least. Yuji loves surprises and presents and any manner of ripping open colorful paper with mysteries inside. Yet, as much as he loves surprises, he loves to spoil them for himself even more. Megumi always has to hide them whenever Yuji comes to visit. Or else he’ll find the edges of the paper ripped just enough to see the contents inside.

That’s not what has him faltering, however. No, it’s the fact that one of the gifts he’s gotten Yuji is something he can never ever find. In one of his lust-induced late-night trances, revolving around his Yuji-themed scenarios that have only increased in frequency since that night, Megumi may have wandered onto an adult site and impulse-bought a few things.

A couple of packages stare at him forebodingly from the dining room table. The morning sun catches on the metal of a pair of hefty industrial-grade handcuffs, winking at him from across the room.

“What makes you think I’m gonna get you anything?” Megumi mutters, turning away to take a bite of breakfast.

He needs to get rid of those soon. Maybe there’s some way to discreetly return them all. Or maybe he just needs to throw them all in the trash. And maybe set the can on fire.

“I think I’m gonna get you a romantic coupon book. Unlimited back massages and stuff.”

Megumi rolls his eyes. “Cheap ass.”

“I prefer the term ‘thoughtful’. Just don’t get a tree without me, okay? I want to pick it out.”

Megumi had absolutely no plans to do any such thing, but the request has him smiling. The idea of walking hand-in-hand with Yuji in a snowy pine tree lot is almost as nice as the idea of him strapped down to the bed frame crying his name.

Megumi briefly closes his eyes with a grimace as he catches himself thinking about it once again.

Of Yuji home at last. Taunting him with kisses and light, fleeting touches until he’s nothing more than a pent-up horny mess. It’d be almost too easy for Megumi to get him all perfectly pliant. He wonders if Yuji would resist at first. If he’d be too embarrassed and shy to listen right away. Megumi’s stomach clenches at the thought of bringing him to the brink—to the point where he no longer feels shame, only desire so thick that all he can do is beg like a dog.

“ Megumi?” Yuji’s voice snaps him out of the reverie, far softer than his perverted mind deserves. “Please don’t tell me you already picked a tree out. We could get a second one if you did.”

Megumi huffs at the idea. “Do you honestly think I’m the kind of person to buy a Christmas tree two months in advance? That’s almost as insane as buying two.”

“I don’t know, makes perfect sense to me. One for us and one for the dog.”

“You are absolutely not getting a dog for Christmas.”

“Worth a shot.”

Megumi smiles and shakes his head, glad Yuji isn’t here to witness how disgustingly infatuated he is. “Mmhm. Get some sleep, Yuji. You’re gonna make me late for work.”

There’s a chuckle on the other line. That soft, affectionate little laugh Yuji sometimes does when he’s speaking— despite the fact he didn’t even make a joke. “Sorry, sorry. Go have a good day. Call me when you’re off. Love you.”

Megumi’s eyes had drifted shut at the sound of Yuji’s voice without him even realizing it. Too many parts of him start to ache. A sore heart and all that empty space in his bed. God, he misses being kissed. And hugged. Especially being hugged. Instead of saying any of that though, Megumi just sighs as if Yuji’s gooey words are tiresome.

“Mmhm. Just don’t die. Returning your presents would be such a pain.” Megumi responds the same way he does to every eager I love you that Yuji throws his way. He loves him too, of course. There’s never been anybody he’s loved more. Dear God , how embarrassing is that? It just feels like saying the words… he’s not worthy yet. Megumi doubts he’ll ever really earn the right to say it back. Thankfully, Yuji doesn’t seem to mind. “I’ll see you soon.”

“See you soon! Love you so so so so so so soooooooo—”

Face burning bright red, Megumi ends the call.

Megumi stops outside the door to his apartment to brush a layer of snow off the shoulders of his puffer and shake the quickly dying snowflakes out of the woolen knit of his hat. Stomping his feet in a circle on the mat outside, he gives himself another thorough shakedown before taking out his keys to unlock the door. As he goes to put them in, he stops. The door is already unlocked.

Immediately, Megumi knows the culprit. And a series of subsequent feelings and revelations have him staring at the door with his hand around the freezing knob for a long, long moment. Yuji’s flight from Bangkok was supposed to come in tomorrow. Despite himself, Megumi grins as there’s a head rush of giddy, childish excitement that floods him from head to toe. He’s here early—Yuji is fucking here. Then, just as quickly, comes the dread.

All of Yuji’s presents are wrapped and bagged up in the middle of the living room—in the mutually agreed upon spot for the tree they’re going to get together. That’s not what worries Megumi. It’s the stack of illicit boxes still waiting on his dining room table. Megumi was going to finally get rid of them today—before Yuji came. Obviously, that is no longer an option.

Bracing himself with one deep breath, Megumi opens the door.

“Merry Christmas!”

There’s an assault of flashing green and red. Frank Sinatra’s Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas blasts from the living room speakers. A chorus of voices has Megumi taking a stunned step back as he’s greeted with the sight of not only his boyfriend wearing the ugliest sweater he’s ever seen— chunky red and white knit with a humongous pug drooling over a plate of cookies and milk on the front— but an entire group of people in ugly sweaters. Nobara hollers and smacks the cork off of a bottle of champagne with a pop so loud it’s like someone fired a gun. Maki immediately snatches a nearby glass and single-handedly saves their carpet from a downpour of bubbly. Next to a fully decorated and intensely flashing tree, Yuta and Inumaki grin at him and raise their empty flutes. Todo appears from nowhere to sling his arm around Megumi’s shoulders and yanks him over the threshold.

“My brother worked so hard to bring everyone together as a Christmas surprise for his undeserving boyfriend,” Todo murmurs under his breath, as Megumi blinks slowly, hardly processing that any of this is happening. “So fix your face or I’ll fix it for you.”

Megumi hardly spares Todo a single glance. Instead, he’s craning his neck as subtly as possible to get a look at the dining table. At the center is a giant punchbowl, filled with a cranberry-red spritzer garnished with slices of dried oranges and sticks of cinnamon. Some spiced rum concoction. The table is crowded with tiered plates of flaky pastry bites and stuffed green olives. A smorgasbord of hors d’oeurves that were either specially ordered or made by Yuji himself. No one else in this room has enough culinary skill to pull something like this off. Not that Megumi is paying much attention to the catering. He scans the table and the floor around it. No sign of boxes or anything remotely horny.

So Yuji must have moved them. Wonderful . That means he’s fully aware that his boyfriend is a degenerate. Megumi keeps straining his neck as he looks around the room, trying to find out where his things got moved. God, he’d do anything to just stomp back outside, lay in the road, and—

Suddenly, his gaze is caught. A rabbit in a trap. That crude, ugly pug suddenly blocks his view, stretched over a well-defined chest, and coupled with the zing of citrus and pink pepper. Despite himself, Megumi’s heartbeat upticks. A pulse he can feel inside of his throat. As if he knows somewhere deeper than his brain that Yuji is back home.

“Merry Christmas, Megs.” Yuji grins that same, wonderful grin. The one that makes his face crinkle like it did when they first met. Before everything. Megumi thinks a piece of him might have died if he lost that smile somewhere along the way.

Todo’s arm slips off his shoulders as Megumi takes the last step between them and pulls him into a hug. It’s a forceful one too. The kind that makes Yuji go ‘ oof’ as their chests collide and the air is squeezed from his lungs. Megumi pushes his face into Yuji’s neck and fists his hands in his shirt. As sure as his next breath, Yuji’s arms wrap around him. Megumi forgets about the party for just a moment. He forgets about the crowd and the lights and all the noise. None of it matters like the way he’s missed Yuji. They just hold each other for a moment, so tightly it hurts, even as the other party-goers wolf whistle and laugh fondly at their dramatics. Megumi sighs at the sound of that steady heartbeat against his cheek.

Later, he’s going to flay Yuji alive. Right now, he can’t help but melt just a little at being next to him after so long without.

Once Megumi is certain that Yuji really is here. He tilts his head up with a scowl so cold it has Yuji going pale. “A little warning would have been nice.”

Yuji pouts. A dangerous thing indeed. “I thought maybe this could be an exception to the ‘no surprises’ rule? I mean, look, the whole gang is here! Nobara and Maki finally got their schedules to align, and Todo was already with me on the last mission so he was happy to tag along,” He gestures to where Nobara is making a mess filling all the champagne flutes in the kitchen, while Todo is sitting on their couch playing Takada’s Christmas idol special performance on their TV. “Inumaki and Yuta were also in town. It just seemed too perfect to pass up.”

Megumi keeps scowling. Though, now he’s trying to determine just how much Yuji knows. He’s surprised there haven’t been any suggestive jokes regarding the things Megumi may have left out. Or any sort of nervous air surrounding him. Yuji is painfully easy to read. If he found something like sexy handcuffs waiting for him in their apartment, Megumi can’t fathom him not bursting at the seams to talk about it. And yet, all Megumi is picking up is that Yuji is just really, truly happy to see him.

“You’re not mad…” Yuji’s brows steeple together, his dark eyes gooey with concern and a healthy dose of apprehension, “Are you?”

Megumi sighs. Instead of answering, he grabs Yuji’s jaw and kisses him.

He really can’t be mad. Besides, he missed most of the people here a lot. With the exception of Todo. It’s good to see them—but not nearly as good as it is to kiss Yuji. The only thing he’s mad about is the fact he has to wait for more.

“No, idiot.” Megumi sighs against his mouth. His waist aches a little underneath the way Yuji’s hands tighten from that touch alone. A good kind of ache. The kind that feels like desire. “I missed you.”

Yuji exhales a shaky laugh and it feels warm against his lips. “I missed you too. So much. You have no idea, Megumi— damn . Now I’m kind of mad at myself.”

Megumi pulls back a little, growing a little too aware of their PDA now that the shock of seeing Yuji has started wearing off. Instinctively, Yuji’s hold on him tightens, before he forces his hands to slack on his hips. “Did you… clean off the dining table?”

Yuji glances over at the table, and all of the things on top of it with a confused furrow to his face. “Um, yes?”

Megumi sighs in relief—

“Or maybe that was Nobara.”

He stiffens. Megumi snaps his gaze towards the kitchen where said culprit is laughing obnoxiously loud at something Maki said over a nearly empty glass. All too quickly, she senses his gaze and meets it. She blinks, and for a second Megumi wonders if there is a god, and somehow Yuji took care of his sex toys without even realizing it. Then, Nobara smirks .

Megumi swallows. It’s so over.

Somewhere between the third and fourth glass of champagne, the brown sugary melt of gingersnaps and the worst rendition of Mariah Carey’s All I Want for Christmas presented by Todo and Yuji, Megumi finds himself having fun. Just a little at least. Enough to forget about fluffy pink handcuffs and all his fantasies of Yuji oiled up and writhing beneath him. At least until they hit the wee hours of the morning and Nobara, the very last to leave, hugs Megumi tight at the door and whispers in his ear.

“Don’t worry about the little surprises you left on the table. I took care of it.”

Megumi freezes as Nobara gives him a finishing squeeze that makes his rib cage hurt. Before he can say a word, she bounds down the stairs and takes Maki’s hand in her mitten, waving back at him and Yuji.

“Wait, wait do you mean—”

“Have fun, you guys!” Nobara calls before they dash through the heavy snowfall towards their car’s headlights winking golden against the forming snowbanks.

“But not too much fun!” Maki adds just before their car doors slam, leaving the two all alone.

Megumi stares at the rear lights blinking red in the dark as they pull away. What does she mean? His face stays creased with confusion even as the door closes and two palms rub his arms to warm him up.

“Brr,” Yuji gives a dramatic shiver before bringing his hands up to hold Megumi’s face in his hands. Megumi is almost too distracted to feel flustered by the way he smiles. “Chilly, huh?”

Megumi raises an eyebrow, trying to brush off whatever Nobara might have meant. Maybe she put them away in a closet. If that’s the case, then he owes her a million brunch dates with bottomless mimosas and as many orders of lemon ricotta pancakes as her little heart desires.

Yuji’s thumbs brush over his cheekbones. Despite himself and the gnawing worry in his stomach, Megumi finds himself melting. His eyes drift shut, pressing his weight into the frame of Yuji’s body, allowing his head to go weightless in the palms of Yuji’s hands.

“Yeah.” Megumi mumbles, preening as a light kiss lands on his temple. “Chilly.”

Yuji inhales sharply. “God, Megs, you’re so…” Just as he cracks his eye open to peek at whatever flavor of adoration Yuji is serving today—he’s immediately cut off by a sudden surge of a kiss.

He wasn’t ready for it. For any part of it. One moment Yuji is cradling him like a baby-bell tulip and then his body is shoved up against the door with enough force to punch the wind from his lungs. The best sort of breathless. He doesn’t waste any more time thinking. Megumi throws his arms around Yuji’s neck and clutches his head close. Fingers scratch across his scalp, digging and fisting in his hair as Yuji’s thick hands sculpt down his back, groping his ass before squeezing down hard .

“Sorry—” Yuji pants and moans all at once, chasing after Megumi’s mouth despite his apologies. “Sorry, sorry—I just missed you so much .”

That much is obvious. If the way Yuji’s dick throbs against his hip is any indication.

Megumi shivers at the thought of it. Hard, thick, and throbbing . He wants it. He wants it bad. Even as arousal and terror create a nauseous cocktail in the well of his dumb head. Megumi squeezes his thighs together as he gushes wet and curls his fingers around the back of Yuji’s nape.

Desire seeps into his bloodstream like a liquid fever. It’s the way Yuji touches him. The desperate, honest dig of his fingertips against Megumi’s flesh. As if he can’t get enough. Honest . Yes, that’s the word for it. Yuji is the honest one while Megumi is the liar. He’s the double-faced snake that can’t make up his mind so he keeps Yuji on a string instead. Never crossing the line, but never letting him far enough to find something better.

Something ugly kindles within the very pit of Megumi’s stomach, burning right alongside lust. He bites onto Yuji’s lip, drawing a little whimper from his throat. As if that can chase away the inadequacy that consumes him.

“Wait—” Yuji pants, and it feels like ice sliding down the spine to stop. As if Yuji might have finally realized he’s too good for all of this. “Let’s, um, let me think. Please.”

Megumi pulls back just enough to look into his face. They’re both breathless and flushed. Yuji’s eyes look black in the low flickering of Christmas lights. Despite being the one to stop them, Yuji looks hungry. His gaze swallows Megumi whole and dips down his body. His throat bobs. Megumi keeps his expression carefully still.

“Fuck, Megumi…” It doesn’t sound like Yuji found an ounce of clarity. “You’re so pretty I can’t even think.”

The admission is so blunt it startles Megumi into a tiny laugh.

Megumi has to look away from him because the intensity of how fond he feels is nearly enough to make him nauseous. “Were you going to say something or did you stop just to share your thoughts?”

Yuji attempts at a more serious expression. But, it’s difficult to take the man seriously when he is acting like making Megumi laugh just solved world hunger. Absolute cheese-ball. Such an idiot. He looks away from Megumi to draw a steadying breath. “I just… don’t want to do anything that you’re not ready for.”

“I’m ready for it.” Megumi nearly snaps back, before even letting himself think. He clears his throat when Yuji just arches his brow and speaks more calmly. “Listen, last time was just a one-off. Let’s pretend it didn’t happen.” Megumi cups the side of Yuji’s face in his palm and steps up on his tippy-toes for another kiss. “Okay?”

For the first time in all the years they’ve known each other, Yuji leans away from his kiss.

Megumi exhales sharply, a mix of surprise and indignation. There’s a deep pout on Yuji’s face as he holds his boyfriend’s gaze. Then, he’s closing Megumi’s hands in his own, and holding them to his chest.

“I’m not gonna make you cry again.” Yuji mumbles and it feels like getting stabbed as threads of guilt weave through the way he looks at Megumi through half-lidded eyes. “I can’t do it, okay? I’d rather never have sex ever in our entire lives than make you cry. I wish I could, like, body-swap with you—wait, and also brain-swap—so that you can see and feel how horrible it is.”

Megumi’s heart clenches. As if Yuji has it in his hands and is suffocating it with kisses. “Jesus, am I that ugly of a crier?”

Yuji laughs, then shoves Megumi’s shoulder for making a joke. “No. Shut up. You’re a pretty crier. It’s a little unfair. Unfortunately, I also love you and I hate seeing you upset.”

There’s always a jolt of shock when Yuji says that. How easy it comes to him. I love you and so I say it. It would be so easy to say it back. Instead, Megumi looks away, his body buzzing in his skin with the acute awareness that all of this is his fault. A whole useless, useless problem that his head created just to make them both suffer.

“Okay.” Megumi concedes, though a part of him is crestfallen. He feels… more ready than before. And he wants it just as badly. He wants to argue more and push. Maybe this will be the time he finally gets over himself. But, he thought that last time too. And now he’s made Yuji feel guilty about kissing him. “You’re sleeping in the room with me though, right?” He hates how small his voice sounds.

“You’d have to barricade me out.” Yuji grins, then falters. “Wait, that sounds a little creepy, actually. Um, yes. Unless you don’t want me to? I can sleep on the couch, no prob. Though I think Nobara spilled some champagne on it… but that’s fine. I like my cushions sticky.”

Megumi blinks at him, unamused.

“No couch? Bed it is.” Yuji interprets the look and swoops down to kiss Megumi’s temple. “Let’s go.”

“You first. I’m gonna finish up out here and join you in a sec.”

Yuji furrows a brow as he slowly nods. “I can help?”

Megumi just shoves at him. “ Go—” He smiles as Yuji stumbles a little, making them both stifle laughs. “I’m sure you’re exhausted, party boy. I’m just gonna turn off the lights and put stuff in the fridge.”

With one smile thrown back, Yuji finally pads off to the bedroom. The solitude gives Megumi a moment of much-needed clarity.

It looks like Hallmark threw up all over their house. Garlands of fir and holly drape across every archway, entwined with sparkling tinsel. Megumi drifts listlessly over the the Christmas tree, blinking green and red before racing with colors in some over-the-top pattern that Yuji probably programmed for his phone for maximum wow factor. There are not too many baubles. A tiny black and white dog that resembles his shadow technique. Megumi smiles faintly, brushing the felt with his fingertips before shifting his gaze to a clear ornament. There are two movie tickets inside; the stubs from the first time they say Human Earthworm. Megumi just stares at it. As if he might go back to that time. When everything was simple. Before it all came crashing down.

What does he want?

The question has been buzzing in the back of his mind ever since their first and last attempt to take the next step. Immediately, as Megumi tidies up the party’s remnants in a daze, his brain unhelpfully supplies him with the same roll of fantasies he’s been picturing for months. Yuji with a quivering lip, begging him so sweetly. Tears trailing down his cheeks, driving him past the point of shame with how badly he needs it. No. It’s more than that. It’s that Megumi is the only one who can give it to him. He’s the one who decides what Yuji gets, be it pleasure or pain.

Megumi knows exactly what he wants. Control.

His jaw clenches down as he slams the fridge shut with a little too much force. No. What he wants is to be fucking normal. He wants to have normal, regular sex with his poor, wonderful boyfriend that he doesn’t deserve without making a mess out of everything. Megumi wants to be a healthy person. A good person. Somebody who doesn’t feel the compulsive need to choke the things they love. Or cuff them to the bedpost.

Panic shoots through his body. Sudden and jarring. The handcuffs. His eyes dart to the bedroom door, swallowing hard as he thinks back to Nobara. Please , he prays to anyone who will listen as he starts a brisk strut towards his bedroom, please, just this once, tell me that Nobara hasn’t completely fucked me over.

The door eases open to the same bedroom as always. A mix of Yuji’s hideous movie posters that Megumi secretly enjoys. His closet sits ajar, the various shades of black and blue clothing hanging neatly. The only difference is Yuji’s open suitcase in the corner, looking like it imploded with the mess of clothes around it. That, and the fact Yuji is standing very, very strangely in front of the bedside table, partially leaning over the mattress with an arm tucked behind him.

Megumi narrows his eyes. “What are you hiding?”

“What?” Yuji asks way too loudly, shaking his head. “Nothing.”

“Then show me your other arm.”

“I’m… good.”

Megumi blinks at him for a couple of long, long moments as embarrassment begins crawling up his neck. What the actual hell is he doing? Is this his honest reaction to finding a pair of crotch-less negligees or is he just being regular-stupid?

“Yeah?” Megumi stares at him for a moment. The weird way he’s standing. Yuji leans back as he takes a step closer. Suspicious as hell. “Okay. Fine. Suit yourself.”

Megumi shakes his head and wanders over to his dresser to switch to something more comfortable. Kicking his pants in the vague direction of the hamper, he keeps his back to Yuji until he hears a weird shuffling behind him. Metal sounding; like a jewelry chain on wood. He whips around just before he’s about to put a shirt on, and catches Yuji right in the act. Yes, right in the act of…

Yuji blinks as they lock eyes. Megumi’s gaze trails down to his now exposed arm, right to where it’s attached to the bedpost via one fluffy pink handcuff.

For a moment, neither of them speak. Megumi finds himself mortified that Yuji fucking found the thing. And Yuji is clearly none too proud of immediately trapping himself.

“The key is lost.”

Megumi closes his eyes briefly, fighting for composure. He tells himself it isn’t funny.

“How the fuck did you lose it? You’ve been in here for like two minutes. Wait, no—" Megumi draws a sharp breath, holding up a finger, “better question: why did you immediately handcuff yourself to the bed?”

Yuji plops down on the mattress with a deep frown. Hilariously, his arm hangs aloft from where it’s attached to the bedpost. “I don’t know. I saw it in the drawer and wanted to see if it works.”

Megumi takes another moment of silence, then sighs, before he walks over to the bedside table. Sure enough, another pair of handcuffs sits there among some other unsavory items that Yuji is kind enough not to mention. God. He’s truly such a loser buying this stuff before even losing his virginity. Megumi tries not to make the fact he’s cringing at himself too obvious as he pulls the second set out with a slink of metal on metal, looking for the key.

Yuji clears his throat. “So… You thought about what I said?”

Megumi would think he’s being made fun of if it weren’t for the way Yuji’s voice sinks low. Just above a whisper, despite it being only them. Maybe because it’s only them. When he looks over, the way Yuji looks at him is entirely new. He’s nervous. Nervous because he’s hopeful.

It makes Megumi’s stomach flutter. As much as it makes him realize the idiot he’s been. Because of course— of course— the very one who planted all those debauched ideas in his head would also have been thinking about the very same thing. Maybe when Yuji joked about getting tied up, it wasn’t a joke at all.

Megumi debates admitting to it. He spots the key lying in the mess of toys and closes the drawer with the softest click . When he looks at Yuji, his face has shifted. There’s an eager intensity to the way he sits up, leaning forward ever so slightly. Like some kind of animal, Yuji’s eyes follow every movement, no matter how small. A rush pulses through his veins. He has Yuji rapt. Hooked. What a head rush to feel so powerful.

“Yes.” Megumi is finally honest, meeting Yuji’s eyes to witness how the admission makes him falter. He watches as the breath catches in his throat. “I haven’t stopped thinking about it.”

Yuji draws a breath in through the nose. The room is quiet enough to hear it. The way his exhales shake ever so slightly. He’s waiting , Megumi realizes. Waiting for him to take the next move.

“Did you mean what you said?” Megumi asks, voice far more steady than he feels. “That I can tie you up?” He pauses for half a beat, before adding in a lower tone. “That you want me to control you?”

It’s a giddy, fiery feeling. The selfish thing inside him wants to seize this moment by the throat. To lunge at the chance to have Yuji just the way he wants him, before his sense and reason catch up to the euphoria of having Yuji look at him like that. Like he holds the entire world in his fist.

“Yes,” Yuji answers softly, with no hesitation. Megumi clicks the handcuff down to the opposite bedpost.

A deep, curling satisfaction warms his blood. A strange pleasure that pierces his mind with startling clarity. Suddenly, it’s okay. The urges he’s been fighting for so long. Megumi tried to deny that he wanted this. Then, when he couldn’t pretend any longer, he told himself it was wrong. Maybe it is wrong, but when Yuji looks at him like this, hope gleaming in his round eyes, suddenly it doesn’t matter. It could be sick. Twisted. Violent, evil, anything. If Yuji wants it this badly, then Megumi cannot deny him.

Megumi holds out his palm, and Yuji moves quickly to the center of the bed to offer his hand. No hesitation. No second thoughts. Only anticipation. Megumi tightens the metal cuff around his wrist with the lightest loving touch.

“We should talk about it some more.” Megumi kneels on the bed, fingertips skimming over Yuji’s knees and up his bare thigh. His muscles jump under the skin, a. As if his touch carries an electric shock. Megumi soaks it all in. The sight of him in nothing but boxers and skin hungry for more. “Like a safe word. Maybe some things you don’t want.”

“I don’t need it,” Yuji says, face scrunching with that signature look of frustration that Megumi knows as impatience. “I want you to do whatever you want.”

Megumi huffs a breath. He tries to sound annoyed. Truly. But, the words run straight through him. Straight to his core, throbbing immediately at the idea of finding his limits. He’s so turned on it hurts.

“Be serious.” Megumi glares, pulling his hand away. There’s still that voice in the back of his head, whispering that this is a terrible idea. A surefire way to cause irreparable damage to their relationship. The permanent kind. “I’ve been thinking about this far more than you have. I need to know what I can and can’t do.”

Yuji exhales what almost sounds like a laugh. “Megumi, I know for a fact you haven’t thought about this as much as I have.” The dark look in his eyes almost makes Megumi believe him. His voice lowers, softer, pleading, “Please… do whatever you want to with me. I want it so bad you have… no fucking idea. Slap me. Choke me. Ride my face and leave me like this until my arms fall off. I don’t care. I don’t care . I just want to be good for you so fucking bad, I—”

Megumi shoves Yuji flat against the mattress and kisses him hard enough to see the stars. Those fucking rambles break something in him, confessions that roll off Yuji’s tongue as easy as breathing. Slap me . Megumi throws a leg over Yuji’s waist and straddles his chest. Choke me. The heat of Yuji’s bare skin thrums through his briefs, sending a jolt of desire straight to his cunt. I don’t care . Megumi shimmies out of his pants and throws them to the floor without breaking the seal of their lips. Yuji hums in approval, sucking his tongue. I just want to be good for you . Yes. Yes. That’s what breaks Megumi. Not just the words themselves. The fact that it’s Yuji . Begging to be used. Begging for Megumi to consume him completely.

The kiss alone is different than any they’ve ever shared. Yuji melts under his hands. Between the wet noises of their mouths devouring each other, come his soft, stilted sighs and shaky breaths. He’s more vocal. His soft mouth opens for Megumi to take and take. Every time Megumi bites, there’s this wonderful whimper. The smallest, most delicious of sounds. Yuji is trusting him with this. This version of himself that steps back, unafraid to be pathetic, and gives Megumi absolutely everything. It’s fucking addicting.

Somewhere in the wonderful, buzzing haze of his brain, Megumi realizes another aspect of what Yuji has given him. All locked up. Completely at his mercy. Megumi really could do anything he wanted. It’s high time to try it.

The kiss breaks with the softest pop, immediately followed by Yuji’s breathy whimper. His eyes flutter open and Megumi can only freeze and stare at the sight before. Face rosy and pink, Yuji watches him in reverence with a completely glazed-over stare. His lips are slick, and swollen with little love bites and every bruising press. Megumi’s cunt clenches down around nothing. The hollow feeling sends a dull pleasure scurrying up his spine. The kind that just makes you frustrated. Just looking at Yuji undone like this is enough to put him on the edge.

“What do you want, baby?” Megumi purrs, voice so breathy and horny that he can hardly recognize himself.

He pets his hands down Yuji’s face cupping his cheeks to give him another dirty peck on the lips. Then, before Yuji can gather the wherewithal to respond, Megumi begins to touch. His fingernails trail down the very center of his chest. Tracing over the faded outline of his scar, over the little buds of his nipples just to hitch Yuji’s breathing. With his other hand, Megumi reaches behind himself. He starts at the top of one of Yuji’s propped knees. Then, down, down the inside of his thigh until the tendon under his skin trembles.

“ Please,” Yuji begs, completely breathless. Something twitches right behind Megumi’s ass. “Touch me.”

“Yeah? Is that what you want?” Megumi smiles as his heartbeat starts thudding quicker—he can feel it in his throat and between his thighs. The way Yuji watches him is addicting. He grazes over the top of Yuji’s thigh, then traces a lazy circle over his hip bone. Instinctively, Yuji’s pelvis jerks below him, following the weight of his fingers. “For me to touch your useless cock? So you can cum all over yourself before I even get to use it?”

Yuji whines. Audibly whines . It shoots straight through him. Megumi’s panties have pasted themselves onto his pussy, sopping wet. It practically overflows, leaving a slick sheen on the inside of his thighs. Megumi catches himself rolling his hips ever so lightly against Yuji’s hard abdomen. Anything for a little bit of pressure against that pulsing ache.

“Fuck—” Yuji gasps, eyelids fluttering as the very tips of Megumi’s fingers ghost over the outline of his dick. “ Fuck— Megumi you’re so fucking wet. I want to taste it so bad. Please, please, please, let me—holy shit—”

His voice tapers off with another deliciously pathetic whine as Megumi presses his palm against the length of Yuji’s cock beneath the fabric of his boxers. It throbs and Megumi can feel his entire body shiver in response. He always knew that Yuji was big. He’s felt it in the morning when he wakes up to his boyfriend pasted to his back after a night of cuddling, or while he’s getting changed. This is entirely different. It twitches between the palm of his hand and Yuji’s abdomen, long and thick. To feel it is an entirely different story. Megumi finds himself starving for it and at the same time wonders how the hell it’s going to fit.

“Yes, thank you,” Yuji sighs, staring up at him with dewy eyes. His bottom eyelashes are wet. As if he wants it so badly that he’s on the verge of crying. “Please, Megumi, more.”

Megumi drags his fingers up the length, thumb brushing over the outline of his head. It draws another high, breathy sound from the man beneath him just as a spurt of precum soaks through his shorts. He always thought being ‘hard’ was more of a metaphor, but Yuji’s dick is rigid. A steel pipe that’s hot and alive and so very, very sensitive. Megumi wants to feel it all.

Yuji hasn’t stopped staring. There’s the smallest bead of blood on his bottom lip from how hard he’s been biting down. He pulls against the cuffs every time Megumi makes the slightest movement as if always forgetting he’s no longer allowed to touch. That he’s no longer allowed a say in anything. It’s cute, in a pathetic sort of way. Megumi isn’t even sure that he wants to give Yuji the privilege of watching.

Megumi draws his hand back and lifts himself off Yuji’s stomach. He leans over the bed and yanks open the bedside drawer to the sound of immediate protests. Yuji jerks against the handcuffs and babbles as Megumi rummages through until he finds what he’s looking for. A blindfold.

“No, wait—” Yuji swallows, voice already wrecked. “But, I want to see you.”

“Oh really? I thought you said I could do anything I wanted.” Megumi blinks sweetly down at him, and Yuji’s jaw goes taut, staring back, defeated. “You could always use your safe word—oh wait. You didn’t want that either.”

Yuji is perfectly silent and all too compliant as Megumi covers his eyes and shoves him back onto the mattress.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Yuji says, trying to regain some dignity as the loss of senses sharpens his state of mind. That won’t do at all.

Megumi sits back and admires him for a moment. Just to let the silence hang. And also perhaps partially because he just enjoys looking. Yuji is always a vision. There’s something to appreciate about every single side of him. The curse-breaker. The loyal friend. His good heart and that brilliant smile. Megumi finds himself swept away by this particular Yuji. He’s never seen him so vulnerable. The strongest sorcerer spread across his bed sheets just like all his dirty fantasies. Except this time it’s better. Better than every single one combined, because this time it’s real.

Yuji’s fists open and close, shifting against the handcuffs that tie him down. Even with his eyes completely covered, it’s easy to read the apprehension on his face. Those thick, blunt brows draw together in a furrow as his lips press into a flat line. Megumi resists the urge to touch him, just watching as Yuji tries to look in the direction he thinks he is.

“Megumi?”

That’s his cue to slide back onto Yuji’s waist. Immediately, Yuji relaxes and his entire body eases back against the mattress. He exhales softly as Megumi’s hands trail over his chest, squeezing generously at his thick pecs while he begins sliding his hips backward. Megumi rises on his knees just enough to still feel the body heat beneath him before he sinks back down—this time, with his clothed pussy aligned directly against the thick cock bursting through the thin cotton of Yuji’s boxers.

It’s like instant sparks. Electricity zings straight through Megumi’s body. Yuji jerks underneath him, hips knocking up against his ass and sliding the length right through his center, nearly catching on the soaked fabric of his panties. A sharp moan rips from his throat, just as Yuji makes a muffled whimper. Megumi’s mind grows fuzzy, swallowed by a thrum of cock-lust driven desperation. He reaches a hand down between their bodies and fumbles to shove Yuji’s waistband down. His dick springs free and smacks up against Megumi’s clit with a hard, wet slap.

“ Fuck—” Megumi whimpers, hips twitching away at the sudden over-stimulation. His breathing is so much harder. Harder than he was expecting. He wanted to have Yuji undone, but instead, he vastly underestimated his opponent. Not as in Yuji himself, but rather his own desperation to be stuffed full.

He draws a long, slow breath in an attempt to regain some control. Then, he slowly wraps his fingers around the base of his dick. Yuji draws a sharp breath. Already, the shaft is sticky and leaking copiously all over his hand. It’s all too easy to give him a couple of slow, slick pumps. The noises that Yuji makes have Megumi tingling, already wet beyond belief. He pushes Yuji’s dick flat against his own stomach, smearing his belly button with precum before Megumi finally lowers himself against his bare cock.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—Megumi—” Yuji’s voice is suddenly hoarse and loud, bed creaking as he fists his hands and pulls against his restraints. “Oh my god—I can fucking feel you, baby. Please. Please—”

The noises are filthy. A wet squelching as Megumi slowly rocks his hips up and down the veiny length of him. Yuji’s head drops back with a broken noise that sounds like a sob as he tries to rut back against Megumi’s panties. With every slow, rhythmic grind his clit catches on the ridge of the fat head of Yuji’s dick, then again on the soft, dripping divot of his entrance. So close to pushing inside, if not for the thin, wet fabric of Megumi’s underwear to separate them.

“Fuck, I’m wet.” Megumi pants, bracing his hands flat on Yuji’s chest as he focuses solely on rocking their bodies against each other. There’s a slow, steady build buzzing right in the bottom of his belly. He sounds wrecked. “M’feels good.”

Yuji nearly looks like he’s in pain. Teeth clenched tight, and every muscle of his body taut with the exertion of wanting something so badly. “I can fucking feel it. Megumi— oh my god, please, I can feel how wet you are— ” His voice breaks off into a breathy whine as he tries to curl his hips up in tandem with Megumi, only to grunt in frustration as it doesn’t bring the relief he needs. “I want to taste you so fucking bad. You don’t have to do anything, just sit on me and let me eat you out. That’s all I want.”

Megumi’s eyes flutter with the pleasant buzz between his legs as he grinds harder against his straining dick. Yuji makes another delicious sound, coupled with another cry of frustration when Megumi doesn’t give him what he wants. Then, he watches all the honest excitement flood Yuji’s face as Megumi shakily lifts himself off.

“You want to taste me that bad?”

Yuji nods so eagerly that Megumi laughs. He peels off his panties and shivers at the feeling of the cool air. Again, Yuji is straining against his restraints, a lovely mix of anticipation and hunger coloring his face. Then, Megumi smiles, taking his utterly soiled underwear before shoving it into his boyfriend’s face. It was just too perfect to resist. He’s too easy to tease.

“There’s your taste.” Megumi taunts.

Immediately, his smug smile falters as Yuji just inhales into the fabric. There’s the softest wet smack of skin on skin as his dick twitches against the inside of his propped-up thigh. Megumi looks down and finds the breath knocked out of his lungs. His dick looks angry. Precum pools onto his stomach, dick shining with a mix of their arousal. There’s a very impatient voice inside him that begs to sit on it right this very second.

“Megumi, please—” Yuji’s voice is muffled through his panties, but that does nothing to dilute the desperation. His voice breaks. “ Please.”

Megumi’s breath catches in his throat. He gingerly pulls his underwear from where it covers the lower part of his face and flicks them aside. Dear god , the way Yuji pleads his name. He’s completely naked in the middle of December and yet his body is burning up. Megumi plants his knees on either side of Yuji’s head and reaches down to pet his fingers through his hair. A soft, soft gesture for the depraved things he’s about to do.

“I really like it when you beg, Yuji.” His voice comes softly, so hungry for him there’s nothing but raw honesty. “So good. You’re so good to me.”

“Yes.” Yuji breathes, his pretty face framed between Megumi’s thighs with his hot breath making his cunt quiver. “For you.”

Megumi can’t resist the sight of him any longer. His fingers dip down past the mound of soft curls and spread his folds with a slick noise. Below him, Yuji’s lips part around quick breaths, all too aware of what’s happening but unable to see any of it. Megumi touches himself to the sight. Slow, languid circles around his clit that send his body straight to hyper-drive.

“Are you touching yourself?”

Megumi shivers again at the breath fanning the insides of his thighs. At the sight of Yuji’s freckled face and the way his lower lip trembles with want. He’s in love with it. With every single part of Yuji. Just as he always has been.

“Mmhm,” Megumi affirms, the smallest moan as he quickens his tempo. “Can’t help it—you make me. You want to see it so bad, don’t you?”

Yuji breathes in deep as if trying to calm himself. It doesn’t work. As he exhales, there’s the shakiest thread of a whine in the back of his throat. The handcuffs jingle where he yanks on them once more. “Yes. Please. Please.”

“You want to see my pussy before I make you eat it?”

Yuji just groans as the ability to speak is siphoned from his body along with his last shred of dignity.

The blindfold slips off his head and Yuji finally blinks his eyes open to the sight of Megumi’s slim fingers flicking at his puffy clit only inches from his face. Another desperate noise chokes in Yuji’s throat as he’s forced to watch. Again, the bed frame creaks under the force of Yuji’s arms tugging against his handcuffs—and for just a moment, Megumi is afraid they might snap—until Yuji is looking directly up at him with the most desperate little expression he’s ever witnessed.

“ Megumi…” It’s like he no longer has the sense to beg right. All sense sapped away by the sight of him. “You’re so pretty. So fucking pretty. God— god, fuck, please— It’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever fucking seen. I— mmph—!”

Megumi cuts him off by grabbing a fist of his hair and finally sinking down onto his face. If Yuji was offended at being cut off, he sure doesn’t show it. No, if Megumi didn’t know any better, he might think that Yuji was just yammering in hopes that this would happen— because the way he instantly devours him… God. It’s like he’s been starving for a lifetime.

“Holy shit—” Megumi squeaks, his other hand scrambling to hold onto the headboard as Yuji starts lapping over his folds, tongue swiping hungrily over his clit as if he’s just trying to taste everything. It’s unlike anything he’s ever felt before. So different from all his subpar attempts to get himself off. The pleasure comes quick and sudden, a wave of heavy, heavy feeling. “ Ah— oh my god, that’s—that’s a lot, Yuji, I—”

His babbles thrust into a sharp moan as Yuji sucks hard against his clit, humming and grunting into him like he’s getting off to the taste of him alone. Megumi forgets to breathe as a sharp pleasure zips through his very bloodstream. The intensity of it almost hurts. His thighs squeeze hard around Yuji’s head, already lurching headfirst towards an orgasm he wasn’t expecting.

Megumi is normally very good at controlling himself. That’s the one thing he can always control. Yet, Yuji is ripping noises out of him that he wouldn’t make on the brink of death. It’s a feeling foreign to himself. He’s come on his own fingers many times before but this is so, so different. So good. Why? He’s done the same movements and used the same anatomy, yet the difference between Yuji’s touch and his own is like candlelight to fireworks.

Stars dance behind his eyes as all coherent thoughts in Megumi’s mind are swiftly replaced with nothing but the simmering heat that burns hot in the lowest pit of his belly. It grows hotter, scalding and swallowing up his nerves with a sensation that blurs the lines of pain and pleasure. Megumi is scarcely aware that he’s hardly breathing. Only sharp, stabbing pants in between his fevered pleas of ‘yes’, ‘right there’, ‘oh god’ . His fingers dig through Yuji’s velvety pink curls, knuckles white where his hands, clenched into fists, keep his head right where Megumi needs it.

Yuji switches his rhythm. The tip of his tongue grazes the slick, fleshy opening of Megumi’s hole, drawing up his vulva in a long, savoring stroke, before sucking hard at the bundle of nerves now engorged and throbbing between puffy pink lips. Megumi can do nothing but cradle Yuji’s head as his hips buck forward discordantly,the need outweighing his self-restraint. It keeps building and building. His voice feels distorted as if coming from the next room over, as if he can focus on nothing but the feeling of Yuji eating him out like the world is ending.

“Ah, ah—fuck! No, wait, it’s too much— it’s too much!” Megumi sobs, just before pleasure rocks through his body like a train and tips him over the edge. Like his soul is being ripped out and zapped by lightning. He starts to lift his hips with trembling thighs, but Yuji just moans into his skin and follows the taste of him like a man possessed. Instead of escaping, Megumi loses any strength left in his limbs to keep from suffocating Yuji with his full weight. His thighs clench hard around Yuji’s ears, completely smothering him as his body locks up from all this feeling.

It’s like an endless crescendo. A small eternity on the precipice of everything. Every nerve frayed and bursting. Every piece of his brain melting from the miracle of feeling this good. And even still, Yuji doesn’t stop. His tongue laps greedily at Megumi’s center as he just drips pure arousal like melted honey. Then, he groans against his flesh, sending the vibrations simmering up Megumi’s spine as he sucks his clit so softly into his mouth.

Megumi screams, grinding down hard against Yuji’s tongue as he feels his very body lose control. He’s coming again. One after another. This one leaves him shuddering; shaking apart as a sudden rush of liquid hits Yuji straight in the face. The sound of it is filthy. As if someone threw a full cup of water at the mattress. And Yuji’s head. There’s a muffled noise of shock underneath him as Megumi slumps forward against the headboard. His thighs are slick with squirt that drips down to soak the sheets, body twitching from the aftershocks as he sits on Yuji’s chest, hands braced on the headboard.

Immediately, Yuji is gasping for air. Dramatic , Megumi thinks hazily as he catches his breath. His face is flushed red and sparkling with a mix of perspiration and pussy juice, beads of dew glimmering on the noble ridges of his handsome face. Megumi feels a sudden surge of fondness so strong, it seems only taking a bloody bite out of Yuji’s skin could sate him. Instead of cannibalism, Megumi pets over Yuji’s cheek, cupping his face in the palm of his hand.

Yuji opens those big dark eyes and stares up at him with an unreadable expression. Something solemn. Yet drowning in adoration. Yuji nuzzles into his touch and kisses the heart of Megumi’s palm.

“Thank you.” Yuji sighs so softly, eyes fluttering. He looks dazed. Pupils swollen and dark, as if intoxicated. Megumi’s heart squeezes as his cunt does the same. Arousal hits him again, dripping onto Yuji’s bare chest. “You taste…” He licks his lips as if savoring the memory of being smothered into Megumi, “So good. So fucking good. You’re so pretty. The noises you made—god, just… just knowing I made you make those noises. Holy fuck, Megumi. I’m so fucking happy right now.”

Yuji sounds drunk. He sounds… emotional. There’s a tremor in his voice as he whispers every word like it’s a loving promise. Megumi blinks as his throat tightens. Yuji just stares at him, watching his every moment with misty eyes like a sweet, loyal dog. It’s nearly too much for Megumi to bear.

Megumi loves him. Adores him. His chest is burning up with a fever like his very heart is sick with it. Here in their ruined bed, sticky and shaking, it smacks him right upside his bedhead. He really, truly loves him. He trusts him more than anything. He always did but now… now with the way, Yuji looks up at him like a young god. His head is dizzy from a cocktail of power, control, and pure unadulterated lust.

“ Yuji,” Megumi sighs his name like a prayer, pushing his sweat-slick bangs out of his eyes so he can experience the full power of Yuji’s puppy-dog eyes. “If that made you happy, I’m about to make you fucking ecstatic.”

Just as Yuji’s face creases into the cutest little look of confusion, Megumi reaches behind himself and grabs the base of Yuji’s cock. He moves his hips back with a degree of fluidity that he hopes translates into confidence. Yuji pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, watching his every move with immeasurable heaps of longing sewn into his honeydew gaze.

“Let me touch you, Megs.” He all but whispers, voice hoarse with his pleading.

Megumi can’t suppress the smile that curls at the corners of his mouth because god, does it feel good. The fact he has the power to grant whatever Yuji desires. And the power to deny him. It trickles down his spine. An electric kind of feeling. Power and control.

“ Mmm , I don’t know. What will you do if I don’t?”

As he speaks, Megumi shuffles his knees into position, dipping the mattress at Yuji’s hips. All the while, he keeps a firm grip on the straining dick beneath him. He sidles down just enough to begin teasing his slit with the fat head of Yuji’s cock, gasping at the heat. Immediately, precum oozes over the side, coating his knuckles and smearing milky strings against his cunt with filthy, wet sounds.

“ Megumi—” Yuji sobs his name instead of answering, head thrown back against the pillows. It exposes the column of his throat and the sharp jut of his Adam’s apple. A golden bead of sweat slides down his jaw, leaving a trail of glitter down his pretty neck. “Please. Please.”

His dick practically jumps in Megumi’s fist as he lines it up against his hole at long, long last. Megumi draws a deep, steadying breath as he starts to slowly sink down upon it. Even soaking wet and more hungry than he’s ever been in his life, Megumi can’t keep himself from grimacing at the stretch. A fluttery whimper eeks from his throat as Megumi scrunches his eyes shut to adjust to the head of his cock alone.

“ Christ — it feels even bigger than it looks.” Megumi huffs, sounding more breathless than he meant to. He blinks his eyes back open to find Yuji already staring.

“Go slow. Don’t wanna hurt you.” Yuji manages, skin slick with sweat with all the muscles of his body drawn taut as if he’s barely holding onto his sense of control. Even so, he watches Megumi with so much softness. There’s a crease of concern between his brows. “ Please , let me help. Let me do some of the work, baby. Please.”

Megumi tightens his jaw. Something inside him bristles at those words. He doesn’t need any help. He can fuck himself just fine, thank you. It doesn’t necessarily take two to tango if you forcibly restrain your dance partner and execute all the moves on your own. Megumi continues sinking down, slow and steady, even as it feels like Yuji’s girth is splitting him open and squishing all his organs against the inside of his rib cage. It punches the breath from his lungs. Pain that aches so good . What’s so wrong with this? One-sided sex where he decides it all. Where Megumi is the only one who touches and the only one who decides to be touched. And Yuji just lets him. Yuji would let him do anything.

“Ha—Ha, oh fuck. ” Megumi exhales like the wind has been knocked out of him because god, it feels like his lungs have been wrung out like a dishcloth. His hands scramble for some kind of hold on Yuji’s chest, as his ass hits the sharp angles of Yuji’s hip bones, flesh finally flush together. He moans without thinking. He can’t think. “ Yuji…”

“Baby,” Yuji whimpers, “You’re so tight. So tight I—”

Megumi tries his best to breathe, but every inhale sends that overwhelming fullness zinging through every nerve of his body. It’s not quite painful, but there’s an ache. The dull sensation of being stretched beyond your body’s limit, underlying the intense zips of feeling as his cunt flutters and twitches around his entire length. God, if he thinks about it hard enough, Megumi can feel Yuji’s heartbeat pulsing inside his own body.

“Oh, god,” Megumi shudders, fingertips digging into the meat of Yuji’s pecs as the feeling of overwhelming fullness starts to fade into a blissed-out sort of pleasure that hums through him at every ridge and vein pressing up against the walls of his cunt.

“Mmmha. Ha. Wow.” His vision blurs, voice slurring as a heady euphoria begins to wash over the better sense of his brain. Cock-drunk . Megumi looks down at his own stomach, pushing his palm against the soft pudge above the mound of his pussy. He’s probably imagining it, but Megumi could almost swear he can see Yuji’s cock filling him up from the outside. “You’re actually inside me.” His voice is quiet, melding into the symphony of their stilted breathing. It feels sacred. “Fuck, you’re inside me. God. I can feel you fucking everywhere.”

Megumi locks hazy eyes with Yuji, his arms starting to shake slightly from where he holds himself up against his chest. Somewhere in the murk and velvet of his lightheaded mind, he wonders if he looked even half as fucked out as Yuji. Right now, his eyes glimmer like forest puddles, deep earthy brown shrouded through a bed of tears. Yuji’s lips stay parted around deliciously pathetic noises as a tear slides from the corner of his eye and follows the curve of his cheek. Megumi’s cunt clenches down at the sight. It rips a cry from Yuji’s throat.

“Can you feel that?” Megumi whines as he squirms his hips, shivering in the bursts of pleasure that ripple through his body like a stone skipping the surface of a lake. His hips suddenly jerk forward, making him huff a dazed laugh that cuts off into a sharp grunt of pleasure. “I—I can’t stop twitching. I’m gonna come on your cock. Just like this. Oh my fucking god—”

He stops forcibly relaxing and allows his body to clamp down around Yuji like he’s been aching for since the beginning. Yuji moans through a crackly sob, his hands scrambling to clutch onto the headboard behind him. All the tendons of his arms flex, veins bursting under the sweet torture. He’s so good. So fucking good. Megumi starts rocking up and down, fucking himself on that long, thick shaft in slow, shallows thrusts. All the while, he stares down into Yuji’s face and his pretty eyes rimmed with red and brimming with tears of frustration.

“So fucking good for me, aren’t you?” Megumi pants as the slide of Yuji’s cock gets easier and easier, filling him to the utter brim every time he grinds his hips down. Megumi flashes a wolfish smile as Yuji nods, still so eager to please despite how terribly he’s been neglected. “You’d let me do anything I want, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, yes—” Yuji croaks, knuckles white where he clutches the headboard. “ Anything.”

Pleasure deeper than the flesh sends goosebumps prickling all over Megumi’s body. He groans, sinking deep onto Yuji’s cock with a thick squelch of hybrid arousal. He feels high. No, more than high. Pure, saccharine euphoria.

“Yeah? You’d let me fuck you?” Megumi whispers feverishly, gaze going blurry but never leaving Yuji for a single moment. He just watches Yuji nod. So eager. So fucking willing. “You’d let me smack your pretty face?” Again, Yuji nods, desperate. “What if I never let you fuck me? What if I tie you up every time and use you just like this? How bad would you let me hurt you then?”

Yuji sobs, his feet slipping on the sheets as he tries to find purchase as his hips twitch discordantly up against Megumi. The sudden thrust punches the air right out of his chest, leaving Megumi gasping.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Yuji wails, bed creaking under the sheer power of his grip on the headboard, arching up against Megumi like he’s lost his mind. “Please, fuck, please! I’d let you fucking kill me.”

Megumi finds himself unable to breathe for another reason entirely. His head is a muddled, horny mess. Yet that confession cuts through the pleasure and pain. It cuts to the bone. To the sticky pink marrow where all the lies he’s told himself are written. Yuji stares up at him, crying, lip shaking, and torn apart by the blade of his conviction.

He would , Megumi trembles at the realization, Yuji would let me kill him.

His eyes burn and his body shakes. It eats him from the inside out. But it’s not a bad feeling. No, it’s wonderful. It’s like being swallowed whole. Except being consumed by Yuji isn’t a dark, dismal thing. It’s not a trap or a cage. It feels like sunlight on his skin.

A tear lands on Yuji’s chest. Megumi wants to laugh at himself. To laugh at the both of them together. How cliche for a couple of virgins to cry while fucking each other for the first time. Such a time to have an epiphany. Yuji really is… the only one. He’s always been the only one.

“Take it. Take everything you want.” Yuji chokes out, still watching Megumi slack-jawed and on the very edge. “I want to give it to you. Whatever you want. Use me. Anything, anything—”

“Fuck me.” The plea rips out of Megumi’s throat like a sob, riddled with a desperate need the likes of which he’s never known. The vision of Yuji below him is blurry through a bed of overwhelmed tears, but his expression is pure shock. “Please, Yuji, fuck me.”

Megumi trembles on top of him with the terror of it all. To beg for the very thing that has scared him for so long. Of letting go. It echoes through him like a phantom pain. The lightest, painful reminder of when his body wasn’t his own, and how he’s about to hand it over once again.

And yet, looking down into Yuji’s face and seeing nothing but adoration looking back, he finds that he’s not scared. Not anymore.

“Really?” Yuji doesn’t dare breathe, staring up at him with unblinking eyes.

Megumi feels frayed. A rope with every thread unweaving despite how desperately he twists and knots it together. His head is a mess. A million thoughts derail and burst at the feeling of Yuji throbbing deep inside his body. It’s impossible to think. Impossible to overthink . Yet, the simplicity of it makes him more certain than he’s ever been. Megumi nods, a pair of quiet tears rolling down his cheeks.

Just as he starts to pull himself up to reach for the key in the drawer. Snap. Twang. A pair of broken metal links zip through the air out of the corner of his eye and suddenly his entire world flips around.

Megumi’s back hits the mattress as his waist is hauled up flush to Yuji’s pelvis. There’s a sharp, wanton cry that pierces the room. Megumi realizes a second later; that noise was him as Yuji’s cock fills him from an entirely new angle. It’s heavy. Thick. And impossibly, achingly deep. His eyes roll back into his skull as he scrambles for a hold on Yuji’s shoulders.

“Oh, god—” Megumi hiccups as his jaw goes slack.

Yuji groans and inhales deeply into his neck. As if swallowing the very scent of him. There’s a wet, open-mouthed kiss against the column of his throat as two steely arms encircle his waist like a band of iron. Megumi huffs in an attempt to regain his breath as once again it feels as though he’s being split open. This time though, the ache makes his head dizzy with pleasure, heat flushing beneath the skin.

“M’sorry,” Yuji slurs, fingertips digging into his flesh as he bends Megumi at just the right angle. He keeps kissing all over his neck. A moist mess of greedy noises and love bites. One level below being devoured. “ Fuck—” His gasp slips into a blissed-out chuckle. “Did that turn you on? You just squeezed all around me, like, holy shit, dude—you’re so fucking wet for me. So fucking tight. Wow .”

Megumi pants, gritting his teeth down as the sheer size of Yuji is no longer enough. He needs movement . And the lack of it is starting to piss him off. His gaze, teary, narrows up at Yuji in a slicing scowl. “I know you did not just call me ‘dude.’”

Yuji laughs and it’s different than the usual sound. More breathy, more honest, like the way he would sound on their late-night phone calls when he’s stayed up far, far past his bedtime just to talk to Megumi a little bit longer. There’s something about it. A dreamy, mystified sort of wonder. As if Yuji can hardly believe his luck. As if being with Megumi is reason enough for joy without thinking twice.

“Sorry.” Yuji noses against his ear, exhaling a long, hot breath against his skin. He pulls up just enough to press their sweaty foreheads together and look Megumi right in the eyes. His gaze is black. Heady, swirling, and darker than a well of hot ink. “I’m gonna fuck you now, okay?”

Megumi’s breath catches, barely managing a whisper. “Okay.”

Suddenly, Yuji’s hands are on his ankles and his body is being maneuvered like he weighs absolutely nothing. There’s a single second of space between their bodies as Yuji pulls out, inch by agonizing inch. Megumi scrunches his face at the sudden hollowness. Instinctively, he clenches down around nothing. The gaping emptiness is worse than pain. It’s maddening. Infuriating. Lonely and awful and Megumi can’t think around it enough to stop a frustrated whimper from wrenching out of his throat. Then, his body is folded in half. Legs draping over Yuji’s sweat-slick shoulders as his weight flattens Megumi into the mattress.

It’s like his entire world is suddenly Yuji. His weight. His heat. The smell of his sweat and the shaky exhale he lets out as their noses brush against each other. Megumi clumsily loops his arms around Yuji’s neck, holding him tight and close as if he’s terrified of losing a single inch of their skin pasting to skin. It still doesn’t feel close enough. Even with Yuji squeezing him tight, crushing their bodies together— it’s still not close enough.

“Give it to me.” Megumi whispers, breath mingling as his eyes stay locked with Yuji’s mere inches from his own. “I want to feel you in my stomach, filling me up. Please . Fuck me like I’m the only thing that matters.”

All the breath in Yuji’s chest rushes out in one stunned, shaky exhale. His hand snakes between their bodies, fingertips grazing over Megumi’s chest, down his soft stomach before grabbing the base of his cock to angle it back against his pussy. Megumi’s arms tighten around his neck, breath hiccuping as his entrance flutters around the blunt head of his dick.

Yuji sinks down slowly, but without wavering. Just one hard, fluid stroke, and suddenly Megumi is stuffed full enough to break. He chokes out a whimper as Yuji grunts through gritted teeth. It’s so good. So fucking good. At this angle, it feels like Yuji is in his throat. One last tick of his hips brings their bodies utterly flush, grazing up against a spot that has Megumi seeing stars behind his eyelids.

Then, Yuji cages Megumi in with his forearms braced on the mattress. They pant into each other’s mouths, adjusting to the perfect interlocked bliss of their bodies once again. Then, Yuji pecks the softest kiss to Megumi’s lips—an apology in advance—before his eyes grow dark.

The only light in the room comes from the window. The outside world almost seems to glow. The snowy, suburban landscaping carries the yellow hum of streetlamps through the frosted panes and onto their mess of sheets and limbs. It makes Yuji look immortal. The only living thing left in the quiet, cold grip of winter. The last memory of summer. Of the sun’s heat melted down into one perfect, beautiful person. All for Megumi alone.

And Megumi is for him.

When Yuji begins to move, it’s like a flame catching the forest alight. It starts slow. The long, aching slide of his dick scraping the slick insides of his cunt, pausing when only the head remains, before plunging back in. Every thrust has Megumi clamping down his jaw to keep his noises in check. But it’s a losing battle. He knows this and yet he clings to the last thread of control. Even as every deep, punching snap of Yuji’s hips has his vision blurring and his body buzzing with electrified arousal, Megumi clings and clings.

“Fuck. Fuck.” Yuji chokes out in tandem with the harsh, quickening slap of skin. His voice sounds distant. Dazed. As if there’s something within him that’s breaking apart. With a start, Megumi realizes what it is. Yuji’s self-control. “Hold onto me, baby.”

A lick of arousal leaves a simmer of heat in the deepest pit of his body. Megumi’s stomach flips in anticipation as his arms scramble to tighten their hold on Yuji’s neck. There’s one split second. One single moment where Megumi draws a deep breath in and tenses, where his jaw locks shut to keep his little whimpers and whines mute, awaiting the next blow.

Yuji draws out, slow and slick. It siphons the air out of Megumi’s lungs. They draw the next breath together, lips brushing and their foreheads knocked together. Megumi keeps his eyes scrunched tight, but he can feel Yuji’s gaze locked on him like heat from a fire.

Yuji slams back inside him. Megumi yelps as stars dance behind his eyes. And this time, Yuji doesn’t stop. He fucks into Megumi like a jackhammer. Fast, deep, and with brutal force. As if his only goal is to leave Megumi’s cervix bruised and reduce his head to a pile of mush.

Megumi’s mouth goes slack around a stream of slurred expletives and filthy moans. Every part of his body burns and tingles and zips with sparks. It shouldn’t be physically possible to come this fast and yet he can feel it building all too quickly. A static that numbs his fingertips and fills his very bloodstream with pulsing heat. Megumi can hardly breathe. Every violent plunge of Yuji’s cock knocks the air from his lungs and leaves him mewling like a bitch in heat.

There’s no way to stop it. The pleasure verges on intensity that almost hurts as he’s thrust onto the precipice. There’s no way to escape. Not with Yuji caging him in completely, pinning him down with the sheer weight of his body and overwhelming strength. Megumi is forced to stay folded entirely in half, knees above his shoulders as Yuji plows him into the mattress like he owns him.

It’s the happiest Megumi has ever been in his life.

“Yes, yes, yesyesyes—” Megumi manages to babble in between his hiccuping sobs and moans, starting to squirm against Yuji’s iron hold as his mind starts slipping beyond any semblance of reason and into the throes of pleasure. “Fuck me like that. Just like that—oh god, god, fill me up. I wanna feel your cum inside me. N-need it, Yuji, please, please!”

Yuji’s pace stutters, grinding hard against his sloppy cunt with a filthy groan. “Holy shit, Megumi—” He pants hard as he begins pounding every thrust in with enough force to jolt all the bones in Megumi’s body. Like he’s trying to break him. “M’gonna make you fucking pregnant. Fill you up so good. I’mma be so good for you. So good . Breed you just like you want.”

Megumi cries. His cheeks are wet and his skin blazes with heat. His entire body clamps down as pleasure wracks through him like a tidal wave. Nails tearing lines in the flesh of Yuji’s shoulders, his body trembles as the world blooms around him. Everything is perfect and warm and pure, sweet euphoria as he comes with Yuji’s name on his lips.

“I love you,” Megumi sobs, trembling as Yuji manages one more thrust before he buries himself completely in his convulsing heat and floods his cunt to the utter brim.

Time freezes in the afterglow. Their pants mingle in the silence, two discordant racing heartbeats. Megumi’s body melts like butter, legs still twitching as his cunt occasionally spasms around Yuji’s softening dick, drawing a soft moan from his throat. Deep satisfaction spreads through him, heavy enough to sink down to the bone. Megumi swims in the bliss, eyes drifting close as his fingertips gently stroke his lover’s hair.

“I love you more.” Yuji hums against his skin, squeezing his entire body in the softest embrace that has Megumi smiling in a daze.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“ No.” Megumi bites lazily at the closest piece of Yuji—which happens to be his nose.

“Ow—” There’s his lovely laugh. “Fine. Say it again and we’ll see.”

Megumi cracks an eye open to find Yuji already staring down at him with an expression that’s hard to put into words. Eyes of melted brown sugar and a faint, curling smile— the kind you don’t realize you’re making. Megumi looks aside, heart clenching in his chest as he mumbles, “I love you.”

Then, Yuji makes a strange, shrill noise. Like, an overexcited teenage girl who just got her Justin Timberlake poster in the mail. “Oh, man. I’m never getting tired of that. But, technically I did say it first and also like a million more times. You have a lot of catching up—”

Megumi shoves Yuji’s face away with a roll of the eyes. “You’re so annoying.”

Yuji laughs, which is muffled against the palm of Megumi’s hand, face squished. The sight has Megumi smiling. Maybe laughing just a little too.

“You’re annoying-er.” Yuji sighs fondly as he slowly pulls out, causing Megumi to hiss at the sudden emptiness. His legs untangle from his boyfriend’s shoulders with a couple of sore pangs, that immediately Yuji consoles by rubbing his hands under the flesh of his thighs, kneading into the muscle.

They watch each other in comfortable quiet for a moment. Yuji’s hands wander higher before his attention locks on the point of interest between Megumi’s thighs.

“Fuck, that is… hot,” Yuji whispers, and suddenly there’s a feather-light touch on his cunt, gathering some of the leaking cum on the tips of his fingers before smearing it against Megumi’s raw clit.

Immediately, Megumi jerks away with a cry. His thighs snap together, trapping Yuji’s hand as he fixes him with a scowl and snaps, “Yuji!”

Yuji’s shoulders hike up with a sheepish smile. “Sorry…” Then, he goes right back and softly parts Megumi’s thighs again. “I’ll be gentle. You’re just so pretty. Want me to eat you out again?”

Megumi tries to kick his shoulder, but he doesn’t budge. So he settles for fixing him with another incredibly unimpressed stare. “That’s disgusting.”

“Huh? Why? It came out of me anyway.” His touch trails back down Megumi’s slick thighs, fingers ever so delicately returning to his leaking hole. “I’ll just help get some out. Okay?”

Megumi bites the inside of his cheek as arousal rekindles under the surface of his skin. His cunt clenches down around nothing, oozing cum over Yuji’s fingers. “You’re not slick.” He tightens his jaw, attempting to look as though this doesn’t affect him in the slightest. “Just get enough out so that I don’t get anything on the carpet. Then, we’re showering and we can lay the futon out in the living room. Okay?”

Yuji nods solemnly. “Okay. Yes. Awesome plan.”

The rest of the night is a complete blur. Yuji fucked Megumi with his fingers until he came hard enough to squirt not once, but twice. Megumi could do nothing but heave and tremble on top of the crumpled bed sheets as Yuji found his way back between his thighs to devour him once again. Until the point Megumi could only babble ‘ I love you’ over and over like some kind of pleasure-drunk mantra. He barely remembers showering. Only the warm imprint of a memory of having his temple kissed in the steam, held to Yuji’s chest like a child. As if no matter what he did or didn’t do, Yuji would care for him.

Megumi blinks foggily as he’s laid back on a stack of pillows atop the futon in the center of the living room. Yuji is quick to follow with a thick quilt that smells faintly of laundry soap and closet. They snuggle together under the covers. Just like the sleep-overs they’d have all those years ago.

Moonlight filters in through the sliding doors that lead out to the yard. Snow covers the world in soft, soft quiet. A border of Japanese maples scratch the pale night sky with their wispy, barren branches, their boughs laden with wreaths of frost. Yuji’s heavy arm keeps their bodies tucked together as his breathing slows to a tender, gentle sway. The world seems softer tonight. Kinder. Snow continues to fall and swallows all the sound of the world beyond, building them a cocoon. If the snow kept falling and falling and falling; if they were buried beneath it to never come out again, then that would be alright.

Megumi feels lighter than before. As if he’s shed an old skin. Like a maple tree glowing yellow, orange, and red, before scattering all its colors to the wind before it begins again.

His temple presses to Yuji’s forehead, encroaching on his pillow. Megumi watches the movement of his breathing. The parting of his lips and the slightest bump on his strong nose. The way his freckles look in the moonlight just before dawn breaks. Megumi tucks a strand of pink hair out of his eyes and strokes his cheek ever so softly. He falls asleep with a perfect ache in his bones and the imprint of Yuji’s sleeping face pressed behind his eyelids like a parting kiss.