Chapter Text
Despite what one might think, Itadori Yuuji is not a huge fan of parties. At least, not anymore. Sure, back in his day he could almost always be found at one; surrounded by friends and strangers alike, always down to go to the next place and keep the night going. But now, in his last year of university, any sort of party or big night out is a bit more exhausting than he can manage; graduation and his plans post-graduation are his main focus.
And yet, here he is on a Friday night, at a party thrown by one of the American exchange students his friend Todo knows. Right now, he finds himself leaning back against the wall watching everyone mingle around him. The beer in his hands is warm now, he’s been nursing it since he got here almost an hour ago. Lots of people have stopped to say hi to him and ask how his break was, and unfortunately for Yuuji, ask about his now ex-boyfriend. Which is the last night he wants to talk about. So he’s here, standing in a corner minding his own business.
Music thumps from another room, the echoing sound of people cheering from somewhere else—which Yuuji can only assume is over a game of beer pong, what with the bouncing sound of plastic ping-pong balls. The familiar cacophony of a party that used to energize Yuuji now sits as background noise as he considers how much longer is reasonable until he can go home.
He can hear Todo coming before he actually sees him, eyes staring out the window at the group of people chatting and smoking out on the balcony.
“Itadori, how long have you been here? How am I just seeing you now?”
“I’ve been here almost an hour! I did my rounds but didn’t see you anywhere. So where have you been?”
Todo smirks in that way Yuuji recognizes as meaning he’s been with a girl. “Come on brother, have a drink with me!” He claps Yuuji on the back, and the jolt almost has the cheap beer in his cup sloshing over the side.
“I don’t know, Todo,” Yuuji tries to resist.
“This is our last year together before you graduate! We only have so many chances left for this.”
Yuuji finds it difficult to deny Todo when he’s feeling sentimental, he is one of his good friends after all. So he downs the rest of his beer, mutters an “Okay let’s go,” and follows him over to the table littered with various bottles of alcohol.
Todo pours two small cups of what Yuuji thinks might be whiskey? It burns his throat from the second it hits his tongue to the moment it settles in his stomach. The cough sitting behind his lips is one he tries to suppress.
“Okay, that’s my only whiskey of the night, no more.”
“Damn you really are getting soft in your old age,” Todo jokes.
“You’re older than me.” Yuuji nudges his shoulder playfully.
Panda shouts Todo’s name from across the room, beckoning him over for another game. Thankfully, he doesn’t ask Yuuji to play.
“I’ll see you later?”
“Go win beer pong,” Yuuji encourages.
Todo shouts something as he leaves, and Yuuji turns back towards the table, reaching over for some water just for his hand to hit someone else’s. The first thing he notices is black painted fingernails. At the touch of skin, both of them pull their hands away, and Yuuji hears a familiar voice say, “Sorry.”
Eyes tracking up the person’s arms along the loose black t-shirt and the slightly stretched out collar, immediately Yuuji is drawn up to green eyes staring at him with a typical scowl. The one Yuuji has been sat next to in his advanced calculus class for the past three weeks. The one he both looks forward to and dreads going to because of this guy. This guy who is incredibly hard to read, but very smart, and also distractingly good looking. He’s only managed to get a little information out of him in the few classes they’ve had since the start of the semester. For one, he knows Megumi is a pre-veterinary medicine major, and he knows that he hates math. So, really, he’s still a mystery. One Yuuji finds himself wanting to solve.
Yuuji rests his hand on the table, leaning his weight onto it. “Hey Fushiguro, what are you doing here?”
Megumi levels him with a flat look. “I’m studying.”
Eyebrows drawn together, it takes Yuuji a second too long to realize Megumi is giving him shit, but it’s not his fault really. Not when Megumi looks like this. It should be illegal for someone’s eyes to be that captivating. Yuuji finally gathers himself and grins.
“And I thought I was the only one here to do classwork. Could have sworn this was a study group.”
Megumi rolls his eyes. “I was dragged here by a friend against my will.”
Yuuji laughs. “Not one for parties?”
“No. I hate them. But somehow, I always end up both being invited to them and forced to attend them.”
“You must be a good friend.”
“She’s lucky I can’t say no to her when she asks.”
“Have you been here long?”
“No, just got here, and I’m painfully too sober for this.”
“And yet you’re grabbing water?”
“If I’m drinking, I’m going to stay hydrated. I’m not an idiot.”
“What do you want for a drink? I can grab you something.”
The weight of his stare is overwhelming, making Yuuji’s skin crackle with anticipation waiting to see how he responds. For some reason, Yuuji desperately wants to keep talking to him. This is the first conversation all night he hasn’t been itching to get out of.
“Okay, pour me something, your choice.”
“That’s a lot of pressure. You seem like someone who would be picky about your drink order.”
“Better make a good choice then.”
Megumi crosses his arms in front of his chest, a smug look painting his face. This is probably the longest conversation Yuuji has had with him since they first met, and what he’s getting isn’t what he expected at all. He surveys the table, eyeing the various types of alcohol choices, most of them half-drunk bottles and all cheap. He weighs his options first between tequila and sake, but something about both choices doesn’t feel right. His gaze shifts back over to Megumi, trying to piece together from looking at him and what he knows about him (which is very little) what he would like. Reaching for a cup, he changes course from the sake at the last second and grabs the mostly full bottle of chardonnay sitting there.
When he turns to pass it to Megumi, the expression on his face is no longer smug, but surprised. It’s miniscule; the way his eyebrows shoot up imperceptibly before settling back into their neutral position, like he’s trying to pull his unreadable affect back into place, never wanting to give Yuuji too much. And he loves the challenge of it.
“How did I do?” Yuuji asks, rocking back and forth heel to toe.
Megumi takes a sip, green eyes never leaving Yuuji’s face as his throat works over a swallow. “I’m impressed.”
“Really?”
“I mean, I usually go for a sauvignon blanc, but I’ll accept chardonnay since it was the only option.”
Yuuji’s chest swells with satisfaction. “Makes sense you’d be a wine guy. You seem the type.”
“And what is that supposed to mean?”
“Oh come on,” Yuuji grins, leaning into his space.
“And you seem exactly the type to like piss flavored beer,” Megumi answers, eyes dancing with mischief.
“What can I say? It’s cheap, it’s available, it does the job.”
“Gross,” Megumi mutters, but his lip curls up just slightly as his eyelashes brush the tops of his cheeks.
The two of them stand at the drink table, and Yuuji thinks that if this is how the rest of his night were to go, he’d be fine with the fact that he came to this party. This is the most fun he’s had all night, and he uses the opportunity he hasn’t been able to find in class to learn more about Megumi, asking question after question. And to his surprise, Megumi answers most of them.
THey’re talking about their upcoming assignment for class when he hears it; his attention pulled instantly away from the conversation with Megumi and directly towards the sound he was hoping, begging, and praying he wouldn’t hear tonight. A sound he would recognize anywhere.
Komaka.
Everything inside his body freezes up at the same moment his heart starts jumping back and forth between his throat and stomach. When he meets Megumi’s gaze again, there’s a look of concern on it.
“Are you okay?”
“I—yeah I’m—oh shit.” Yuuji looks down at the table, then back up and past Megumi towards where the voice came from. Hands jittery and heart pounding as he spots him from across the room, loudly talking and likely bulldozing whatever conversation he’s in.
“What?”
“Nothing, nothing.” Yuuji tries to play it off, but he can see the moment Komaka spots him, their eyes locking as a grin stretches across Komaka’s face.
“Why do you look like you’re about to throw up?”
“Probably because I might. It’s…uh…my ex. He’s here.”
Megumi turns and looks towards where Yuuji is staring, where Komaka is standing in a group of people.
“That loud asshole over there?”
“Yeah, that’s him. Things didn’t end well. And by that I mean I wanted to break up and he didn’t and—fuck—now he’s coming over here.” Yuuji knows the second Komaka saw him he was done for. They’ve texted and talked on the phone a couple of times since they broke up, and each time Komaka has begged Yuuji for another chance; feigning apologies that Yuuji knows by now don’t mean anything, droning on about how good they are for each other and together. How is he going to get out of this? How can he get Komaka to leave him alone tonight?
An idea pops into his head, one that’s probably completely insane.
He looks back at Megumi, watches him sip his wine as the words form on his tongue. “Look, I know we don’t know each other that well, but I need to ask you for a favor. Probably a favor that’s way out of line but I’m desperate and—”
“Spit it out, Itadori.”
“Will you pretend to be my boyfriend? Just for tonight, please. I can’t deal with him right now.”
Yuuji is begging, and he knows it. He half expects Megumi to laugh in his face and walk away, which would be fair. But he doesn’t. In fact, Megumi’s response is quick and instantaneous.
“Fine.”
“Fine? Really? Oh my god, thank you Fushiguro. You’re the best I don’t—”
“Shut up, put your arm around me before he gets over here.”
Yuuji does so right away, and in perfect timing because Komaka strolls up right as his hand lands across Megumi’s shoulders.
“Hey Yuuji, I wondered if I’d see you here tonight.”
Yuuji’s jaw tightens. The way Komaka says his given name in that soft and familiar tone, like he still has the right—it makes his skin crawl. They’re not together anymore. They’ve not even on speaking terms anymore if you ask Yuuji, and haven’t been since the beginning of their summer break.
Komaka leans forward to grab a cup, deliberately brushing the narrow space in front of Megumi’s chest like he’s invisible.
Asshole.
“Yeah, well,” Yuuji mutters, “Todo wanted me to come.”
Komaka smiles, all teeth in a way Yuuji used to like but now is completely put off by. “Figures. And who’s this?” His faze slides over to Megumi slowly and assessing. Like he’s measuring himself up against what Yuuji traded him for.
“Oh, this is—”
“I’m Fushiguro Megumi,” Megumi cuts in, voice even but cold, a hint of boredom in it. “Itadori’s boyfriend.”
Komaka’s brows lift, but there’s a flicker of rage hidden behind his eyes that Yuuji doesn’t miss.
“Boyfriend?”
The word hangs between them, heavy, sharp as glass. Maybe this was a bad idea. But then Yuuji remembers why they broke up and he realizes he doesn’t care if Komaka is pissed off or bothered by the fact that he has a boy—well, fake boyfriend.
Yuuji feels Megumi’s arm snake around his waist, steady and claiming in a way that makes him feel almost protected. His thumb presses small, deliberate circles against Yuuji’s hipbone; whether in comfort or in warning he can’t tell. The warmth seeps through the fabric of his shirt and into his skin—which currently feels on fire.
“Yep,” Yuuji says, the word cracking in the middle. “Boyfriend.”
Komaka’s eyes flick between them, a smirk starting to form like he’s not sure whether to laugh or be impressed, but Yuuji also can tell that he’s hiding anger behind his gaze as well. Heat creeps up his neck, the pulse thrumming in time with Megumi’s touch on his hip.
Silence stretches too long between the three of them.
“And who are you?” Megumi asks, breaking the tension—or maybe twisting it tighter. Yuuji can’t tell, his brain is just static now.
It’s his usual flat affect, that same disinterested drawl that’s driven Yuuji crazy in class. Half-annoyance, half-mystery that kept him wanting to know more. Hearing it aimed at Komaka with a hint of something sharp underneath, something almost protective hits differently.
There’s a flutter low in Yuuji’s stomach. Probably just the alcohol. Yeah, it has to be the alcohol.
“I’m Matsumoto Komaka,” Komaka says smoothly. “Yuuji’s ex. We broke up recently, actually. How long have you two been together?”
Yuuji scoffs. “Recently? We broke up months ago at this point.”
Komaka’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “And I see you’ve moved on quickly. Good for you.” The words are clearly not meant as kindly as his voice makes them sound, but Komaka was always good at that.
Sometimes Yuuji curses himself for ever being with this guy. What an idiot he was.
“Itadori, do you want to go get some air?” Megumi asks.
Yuuji’s gaze drags away from Komaka’s, landing on the deep viridian of Megumi’s eyes.
“Yeah,” he says, softer this time. “Yeah, let's do it.”
Without another word, Megui threads their fingers together and leads him toward the door, ignoring Komaka’s lingering presence completely.
“Guess I’ll see you two around tonight, then,” Komaka calls after them, voice sharp.
Yuuji doesn’t look back at him, he keeps his eyes locked on the wild dark hair of the boy leading him out to the balcony. The brisk air hits his too warm skin instantly, cooling him down as he inhales through his nose and out through his mouth.
“I know we barely talked to him, but that guy really is an ass,” Megumi scoffs.
Yuuji laughs, but the sound is humorless. “Yeah, he is.”
“So, how long did you two date for?”
“A little over a year.” Yuuji sort of hates to admit it.
“What happened?”
What happened? Well, Yuuji found out that Komaka, for the second time, had cheated on him. And this time, instead of hearing about it from other people, Yuuji walked in on it himself. After taking an hour and a half train from Sendai to Yamagata to surprise him, he found Komaka fucking his high school ex.
So Yuuji ended things. Again.
But Komaka practically begged Yuuji to give him one more chance, telling him over and over that he didn’t plan to hook up with his ex, it was just that she showed up unannounced and one thing led to another because they hadn’t seen each other in a year since she went abroad to the United States for school and blah blah blah.
Yuuji, embarrassingly, almost took him back. Choosing to believe what he knew was a lie, always having a hard time letting people go. But he didn’t. Not this time. This time he told Komaka to fuck off and got right back on the train to go home to Sendai. His half-brother, Choso, was thankfully staying with him for a few weeks, and was able to distract him while Komaka blew up his phone.
He gives Megumi a shortened version of this story, one that doesn’t paint Yuuji in such a pathetic light.
“So, definitely an ass, then.”
“Definitely,” Yuuji agrees.
Megumi sets his shoulders back, a look of determination on his face as he reaches for Yuuji’s hand again. “Okay let’s go back in there and make him jealous, then.”
Yuuji grins, sucking his lips to his teeth so it doesn’t come off too bright, too eager or too grateful. “Okay.”
Komaka somehow seems to be everywhere that night. But every time the panic sets in of seeing him staring, Megumi drags him away from it and back to him. Part of them stays touching the entire night; a hand on the small of Megumi’s back, Megumi’s hands twisting around the hemline of Yuuji’s shirt as they talk about their favorite movies, their bodies leaning into each other’s space unnecessarily anywhere they go. But it works, because the few times Megumi catches Komaka’s face, he looks more jealous than Yuuji had ever seen him before. And good, because he deserves to be the one who feels bad this time.
They drink, and Yuuji ends up a bit more tipsy than he’s been in a while. The party rages around them, the way these parties always seem to, but Yuuji and Megui stay in their own world. When at one point, they find themselves nestled in a corner talking about how much coursework their advanced calculus class is going to be this term, Yuuji feels the weight of Komaka’s eyes boring into him from behind. Megumi looks past Yuuji, then meets his eyes again.
“He’s watching.” Fingers twist in the fabric of Yuuji’s shirt again, digging into his waist and pulling him closer.
So Yuuji places an arm on the wall next to Megumi’s head and dips close to his ear, breath ghosting over the shell of it. “Have you ever heard the joke about the three mathematicians eating at a restaurant?”
Megumi shudders, “and Yuuji takes a second to inhale the scent of what must be his shampoo; eucalyptus and something a bit more earthy—maybe cedar? He hasn’t been this close to him before, hasn’t noticed how good he smells.
“No, I haven’t,” he whispers back.
Yuuji smiles, “Me either.”
The tiny huff of laughter that leaves Megumi’s lips and ghosts across his cheek is almost as intoxicating as the alcohol that’s in Yuuji’s system.
“Is he still looking?” Yuuji asks, finally pulling back enough to look Megumi in the eyes. And wow, he has pretty eyes.
Megumi checks, then nods his head. “Glaring. He looks pissed.”
Yuuji grins, “Good.”
They stay tucked away, whispering back and forth, both of their cheeks dusted with a blush Yuuji tells himself is from the alcohol. Megumi’s fingers tangle in Yuuji’s hair, dragging across his scalp, twisting around the soft pink strands before catching on the edge of his undercut. The touch is supposed to look convincing, something for show. But it lingers longer than it should. Especially when Yuuji turns around and notices that Komaka isn’t there anymore.
“How long has he been gone?”
Megumi doesn’t look away from him. “I have no idea.”
⋆˙⟡
Somehow, somewhere, between the noise of the party and the steady thrum of the music, Yuuji realizes that Komaka has stopped mattering to him. No longer any concern with whether he is around or watching them. The night becomes Yuuji and Megumi—two people who barely know each other, suddenly moving in sync like they’ve done this a hundred times before.
It’s strange how easy it is. The things about Megumi that once made Yuuji hesitate—the quiet, unreadable expression on his face, the annoyance littering his tone—don’t seem so intimidating now. After hours of small talk that was surprisingly easy, Yuuji finds himself relaxed in a way he didn’t expect.
By the end of the night they’ve drifted to the stairs leading to the second floor. The party has mostly died down, leaving only the soft murmur of voices and the low buzz of the lights around them. Yuuji’s head tips back against the wall, a lazy smile tugging at his lips. He feels lighter than he has in months—and definitely a bit drunk.
Getting through the night without Komaka cornering him after that first encounter feels like a miracle, thanks entirely to Megumi. That was all he’d wanted: to survive the night, maybe even annoy Komaka a little in the process. When he’d first seen Komaka and panicked, blurting out that ridiculous request to Megumi, he’d braced himself for rejection of laughter. For the possibility of Megumi walking away.
But Megumi hadn’t laughed or walked away. He just nodded, like it was the easiest thing in the world to pretend to be Yuuji’s boyfriend.
And now, with Megumi’s hair still playing around with his fingers where their hands are lazily interlaced, Yuuji realizes again that he doesn’t want the night to end.
“What made you say yes?” he asks, cutting through the rare silence they’d found themselves in.
Megumi looks up from where he’s sitting on the step below him, but the way his thumb traces patterns against Yuuji’s palm still doesn't. “What do you mean?”
“To be my boy—fake boyfriend tonight?”
“Oh.” Megumi’s bottom lip gets trapped behind his teeth, and Yuuji can’t help but think it’s adorable. “You looked desperate.”
A laugh bursts out of Yuuji. One that he has to bring the back of his free hand up to his mouth to contain. “Wow, you say the nicest things to me, Fushiguro.”
The smirk that plays on Megumi’s lips floods a sense of pride into Yuuji’s chest, considering he’s only seen the guy smile less than a handful of times. He wants to make him do it again; wants to see a full smile. One that reaches up to his eyes.
“I just mean—well, I get having a shitty ex. And honestly, I wasn’t being completely altruistic when I said yes. I hate parties. Kugisaki—my friend who dragged me here, the one you’ll notice we haven’t seen all night—is always disappearing off somewhere. She’s so social. I hate when strangers come up and try to flirt or make small talk. So when you came up with the offer of fake dating, it seemed like a good enough deal to keep people from bothering me. And I thought you were tolerable enough to be around for one night. I did wonder if I’d regret it though, considering how—” h waves his hand vaguely in the air between them, “cheery you always are in class.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing! I’m just friendly.”
“I mean, it was a little off-putting when I first met you. But, I don’t know. I was also kind of intrigued. You’re actually pretty cool.”
Pretty cool, Yuuji will take that.
“What’s that face for?”
Oh shit. Yuuji was smiling.
“Nothing, I’m just drunk.”
The air crackles with energy between them as honey-brown eyes stay locked on pools of green.
“Well, I don’t think Matsumoto’s here anymore,” Megumi finally says.
Something drops inside of Yuuji. “Yeah, I think you’re right.”
The air between them hangs heavy, frozen in time. Neither moves to rise nor to pull their hands apart. That is, until a girl with a short reddish brown bob comes bounding over.
“Fushiguro! There you are! I’ve been looking for you all night.”
Megumi pulls their hands apart then, and Yuuji mourns the feeling of his skin already.
“Hey Kugisaki. I’ve been here the entire time, and this isn’t a very big apartment, so I’m not sure how you could have possibly missed me all night.”
“You’re so dramatic. I was with Maki! You know—Maki, you’re cousin?”
“Yes, Kugisaki, I know who Maki is,” Megumi says flatly. “I haven’t seen her all night either.”
Kugisaki’s cheeks flush. “Well, we were…around. She’s really fun, Fushiguro.”
Megumi gives her a look. “Please don’t elaborate. If you wanted to hang out with her so badly, you could’ve just told me. You didn’t have to drag me here.”
Kugisaki huffs, trying to hide her grin. “Oh come on. It doesn’t look like you had a bad time anyways.” She nods towards Yuuji. “Who is this?”
Hi, I’m Itadori Yuuji. Fushiguro and I have advanced calculus together.”
“Oh my god,” she squeals, “is this the—”
“Okay, time to go Kugisaki. You’re drunk.” Megumi stands up, shoves his hands in his pockets and starts to walk away.
Yuuji stands up without thinking. He’s not even sure why. “Wait!”
Megumi turns at the sound, and their eyes meet. Kugisaki grins, glancing between them with a little giggle.
“I’ll see you in class, Itadori,” Megumi says before turning away.
Yuuji sinks back down onto the stairs and watches them go. Megumi tries to hush Kugisaki, who keeps muttering something he can’t quite make out until they’re completely out of sight.
The night replays in his mind as he stays rooted where he is. The touches, the weight of Megumi’s arm around his back, how easily he said yes just to help Yuuji avoid Komaka.
When they first spoke in class, Yuuji didn't know what to make of him. Megumi had seemed distant, like he’d built walls no one was meant to climb. Yuuji figured he was just grumpy, the kind of person who didn’t care to be understood. But even then, there was something about him that caught Yuuji’s attention. Maybe it was the quiet confidence in the way he moved, or the way his eyes seemed to notice everything without ever saying much.
Now, after a night spent as his fake boyfriend, Yuuji can’t shake the feeling that he’s seen a side of Megumi few people ever get to. There’s warmth there, quiet and unexpected. Something that lingers in Yuuji’s mind.
And he’s desperate to know more.