What if Todou realized something, the first time he read the kanji of Yuuji’s name? What if their meaning, unwavering humanity, rang a bell in his head and he understood why Fushiguro Megumi replied with those specific words, when Todou asked him about the type of person he likes?
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CWs: T rated, ~4500 words
canon compliant, post Goodwill Event, not actually unrequited love, pining Fushiguro, misunderstandings, Itadori has his bi awakening, confessions, outing, slight angst, but mostly fluff, and the tiniest hint of spice at the end, first kiss, getting together
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NOTES: This idea came to me while I was drawing my last itafushi artwork. I originally wrote this as a thread on my Twitter, hence the lighthearted format with tons of same-length paragraphs (Twitter’s characters limit is a binch). Still, I liked the result so much that I decided to share it here! Hope you have fun reading!
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NOT BORING AT ALL
Todou is way more clever than his himbo appearance gives him credit. So it immediately clicks in his head, when he reads by chance his brother’s full name, kanjis written on a sheet clipped onto the Tokyo Jujutsu High School’s notice board.
Itadori Yuuji. It’s right there, before his eyes, the answer Fushiguro Megumi gave him when Todou asked him about the type of person he likes.
“So that’s what he meant! I see now!”, he shouts, comically hitting the palm of his hand with a fist.
“Huh?”, Yuuji replies, dumbfounded.
After an intense spar session, he and Todou ended up leisurely walking around the school grounds. For some reason, Todou insisted they created their memories together while they still could, before the Kyoto delegation had to return to their own branch.
So Yuuji stops in his tracks beside Todou, when the other does. Hands in his pockets, Yuuji quizzically glances at the sheet with the names of all the students who took part in the Goodwill Event between the two Jujutsu Schools.
“I have to apologize to Fushiguro Megumi”, Todou elaborates, though he ends up confusing Yuuji even more. “He has an impeccable taste, after all!”.
Yuuji frowns at the hand that Todou placed on his shoulder while saying those words.
“Apologize? What did you do to Fushiguro?”.
“I misjudged his character! But now I see he is not boring at all. He has the potential to become my best friend as well”, Todou nods to himself. “Itadori, my brother! Let’s go find him now! This matter cannot wait another second!”.
And find him they do. He’s in the yard, chilling with Kugisaki, the other second years, and some of the guest students from Kyoto. He’s slouching on the temple stairs, silently listening to Maki and Mai bickering, with an amused smile on his face.
It’s the first time Yuuji has seen him so relaxed since the end of the competition. He seems almost completely recovered from the cursed seeds that were planted in his stomach. Meeting his eyes, Yuuji spontaneously grins, but his line of sight gets instantly blocked by Todou’s large figure.
The big sorcerer storms into the temple yard, Yuuji in tow, back to being vaguely worried. He still has no idea what his ‘brother’ was talking about earlier, but he guesses that if Fushiguro is involved, he better keep an eye on Todou, before he causes trouble for his actual best friend.
“Fushiguro Megumi!”, Todou shouts, unconcerned by the conversations he just interrupted.
Standing by Todou’s side, Yuuji watches as Fushiguro flinches and presses his lips in a barely-concealed sour expression, then turns his head slightly, trying to ignore the loud call.
But it becomes quite impossible when Todou plants his feet in front of him and bows formally.
“Please accept my apologies!”.
Fushiguro raises a brow and shifts uncomfortably in his seat, throwing an inquiring glance at Yuuji.
“What the hell?”.
Yuuji shrugs.
“I don’t know what got into him, but he suddenly said that he wanted to tell you sorry because he misjudged you…?”.
Fushiguro pauses and scratches his head.
“Must be about our first meeting, then”, he mumbles to himself. He stands up with a sigh and finally faces Todou.
“Indeed, Fushiguro!”, Todou beams. “Though you should have been less vague in your answer! I told you it is OK if you like a man!”.
Todou’s words result in a deafening silence.
Trying to give some much-needed privacy to the conversation taking place, the other students turn slightly. All except Maki, who seems totally clueless but instinctively takes a step forward, in case some asses need to be kicked on her cousin’s behalf.
Then there’s Kugisaki, who perks up in her seat beside Fushiguro and glances apprehensively at him, clearly grasping something that is flying above Yuuji’s head.
Fushiguro likes a man? What?!, Yuuji’s eyes travel back and forth from his suddenly stiff, pale, and wide-eyed friend to an unrelenting, grinning Todou.
“Especially since the man in question is my brother Itadori Yuuji! You should have just said his name, not that 'unwavering humanity' crap!”, Todou laughs out loud, his amusement not shared by any other soul.
“But I get it, now, my friend!”. He pats Fushiguro on his back, almost making him fall on his knees under the force of his blows. “Your tastes are not boring at all!”.
Fushiguro hunches, taking the hits while his still wide eyes transfix on nothing and everything at the same time.
Then he abruptly raises his head and he meets Yuuji’s eyes.
There's no denying it. There’s a tell-tale mixture of emotions flashing in Fushiguro’s stare. Panic. Shame. Hope. Pain. Affection.
What?, Yuuji’s brain short-circuits. WHAT? Fuck, fuck, fuck–...
“I will be rooting for you, Fushiguro! This is peak school romance!”. Fists to his waist, Todou keeps laughing, like he’s having the best time of his life.
But then he abruptly stops, another bulb lighting up in his brain. “But huh, my brother Itadori said he likes tall women with a big ass, did he not?”, he muses, a hand going to his chin.
“So this is an unrequited and rather impossible affair!”, he concludes, snapping his fingers. He turns again toward Fushiguro, locking him with a one-arm hug. “I am sorry for you, my friend! Let me cheer you up! Let’s spar to vent your pain!”.
Fushiguro throws Todou’s heavy arm off, his red, angry face giving away how exactly he’d like to vent his obvious pain. He clenches his shaking fists, clearly holding himself back from punching Todou straight in the face, and not because he wants to start a friendly spar session.
“Go fuck yourself”, Fushiguro spits, words dripping with venom and raw emotion.
Then he turns in his heels and strides away, without sparing anyone a second glance.
Not Kugisaki, who rashly stands up and tries to call at him, uncertain if she should follow him or not.
Neither Maki, who finally steps in and crowds Todou, pointing a menacing finger at his big chest.
And especially not Yuuji, who suddenly feels hot and light-headed, falling into a crouching position while Sukuna’s taunting laugh rings in his head.
-
“You really overstepped this time, Todou”, Mai snickers behind her hand, earning herself a glare from her sister.
“This whole scene is unbecoming”, Kamo shakes his head, while not far from him Todou frowns.
“I do not understand why my friend Fushiguro got mad at me”. He crosses his arms, clearly bothered. Once he decided Fushiguro was deserving of his comradeship, apparently he started to care about him.
“You do not understand–”, Maki sputters.
Her voice grows annoyed, as she resumes stabbing Todou’s chest with a finger, chewing him for basically outing her cousin in front of the whole school and his very crush, when he clearly wasn’t ready for it.
Her words reach Yuuji’s ears vaguely, getting lost in the shambles inside his mind. He’s still crouching, hands joined and pressed against the bridge of his nose. His head is probably fuming. This is it, this is the final blow that made him dumber.
“Oi, moron!”. Kugisaki yells at him. “What are you doing down there, counting passing ants?!”.
“Huh?”, Yuuji replies intelligently. Kugisaki looks utterly scandalized by his idiocy.
“Why are you still here? Go find him!”.
Fushiguro, Yuuji’s brain slowly tries to cooperate again. She's talking about Fushiguro, he thinks, as his face flushes to a deeper shade of red. Kugisaki swears under her breath and she nudges Yuuji’s shoulder, almost throwing him off balance.
“Take your time, won’t you? There’s no need to hurry, that other fool surely isn’t beating himself up right this minute!”.
This does kick-start Yuuji into action. He hastily raises, almost catching Kugisaki off guard. Then he gawks toward the direction Fushiguro stormed off to. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, before pleadingly turning back to Kugisaki.
“What should I tell him?”.
Kugisaki’s expression slightly softens.
“I don’t know about that. Whatever you’re feeling, I guess”, she mumbles. “Just be honest”.
Honest. Hah, his stupid brain mocks him, not even close to being able to elaborate that. He’s having a hard time grasping what just happened at all, let aside his own feelings about it. Or his feelings about Fushiguro, for the matter.
He blushes again, feeling like a useless schoolboy. He shakes his head angrily. Kugisaki has a point, right now Fushiguro is probably miserable, overthinking to the point of blaming himself for something that’s totally out of his control.
Yuuji can’t let him do that. He cares too much, way too much to allow it.
-
The school grounds are incredibly vast, with countless buildings immersed in thick, lush green. It’s been some time, now, since Yuuji transferred there, but occasionally he still finds himself lost when Fushiguro is not by his side.
What he knows, Fushiguro himself had shown him.
At first, it had been only the obvious locations, such as the classrooms, the communal kitchen, the sports fields.
But then, as their friendship grew, Fushiguro started sharing.
Since he basically spent the first months of his freshman year alone, alone he had explored. And so he had found countless other spots of interest, hidden on the school grounds.
Yuuji could tell Fushiguro had been eager to share them with someone other than his loyal shikigamis, though each time he had tried his best to hide that. Yuuji had just smiled then, excited to know more about the school and also more about his newfound best friend.
He looks for him there, now. By the stone bridge crossing the stream with the koi fishes. By the clearing with the funny-looking yokai statue. By the swing on the oak tree, by the little temple too low for their heads. Their special, secret spots.
All tragically empty.
There’s just another place that comes to Yuuji’s mind. Hanging by the last sliver of hope, he rushes there.
Fushiguro had dragged him to the tumbledown sanitary facilities on a Sunday afternoon, to escape the clutches of one Kugisaki Nobara who, all of sudden, had become frighteningly vocal about a fashion sales event in the city.
The public bathrooms were built when the school used to have more students, but they got abandoned as most of the residents moved to the central area of the campus. Now they got more or less claimed back by nature, and nobody really went there anymore.
That Sunday afternoon, the stalls’ vestiges had made the perfect hiding spot while Fushiguro and he had shared a bag of chips, chuckling and nudging each other and reading messages scribbled on the cabins’ walls, left by former and probably long gone senpais.
It had been one of the best days of Yuuji’s life.
It seems a faraway memory, now, as Yuuji finally finds Fushiguro, leaning over a broken sink, long bangs hiding his face.
“Fushiguro?”, Yuuji calls, stepping in carefully to avoid overgrown, coiling vines.
His friend stiffens in reaction to his presence. He doesn’t turn to face Yuuji, though.
Yuuji doesn’t really know how to beat around the bush. He stops by Fushiguro’s side, trying to make eye contact.
“Wanna talk about… about earlier?”, he asks tentatively.
Fushiguro sighs, finally raising his head. Still, he’s not meeting Yuuji’s eyes.
“There’s no need”, he says to his own reflection in the cracked mirror before him. He brushes one of the many unruly dark locks from his forehead. “Todou was just being his idiot self. Jumping to nonsensical conclusions”.
“Oh”, is all that Yuuji can muster in reply, blinking.
Fushiguro frowns. He stops fiddling with his hair, glancing at Yuuji through the mirror.
“What?”.
“Uh, nothing I guess”, Yuuji swallows. “I just feel strange”.
Fushiguro’s stiff posture unwinds slightly, as he turns to look at Yuuji properly.
“Are you hurt?”, he asks, scanning his body.
“Dunno”. Yuuji strokes his own chest absentmindedly. “It kinda hurts”.
There’s a pressure there, that goes up to fill his throat. It’s unpleasant, stifling. It only grows if Yuuji replays Fushiguro’s words: nonsensical conclusions.
Of course, he muses. What was he even thinking? Fushiguro liking him that way makes no effing sense. He should have figured it out right away. So it’s fine, isn’t it? Everything is fine. They can go back to being friends like usual. Like nothing happened. Yuuji’s hand tightens to fist his uniform without even realizing it. If only the pressure in his chest would subside–
Then Yuuji notices it, the unguarded expression Fushiguro is making. While he’s looking at where Yuuji’s heart is. At where it used to not be.
Yuuji lets his hand fall, stricken. His voice is soft when he speaks again.
“We didn’t really talk about this either, huh?”.
He kinda feels possessed, like when Sukuna takes control of his movements. But the curse inside him seems unbelievably quiet, right this instant. Still, Yuuji’s body seems to move on its own as he takes a step closer, maybe a bit too much. He can’t help it.
Sucking in a shaky breath, Fushiguro quickly diverts his gaze once more. Yuuji bites his lower lip.
“I’m sorry for dying on you, Fushiguro”.
“Shut up”.
Obviously, Yuuji doesn’t.
“And for keeping it a secret when I came back. I really wanted to tell you”.
“I said shut up”, Fushiguro repeats through gritted teeth.
Again, Yuuji tries his best to meet his eyes, tilting his head. He’s so close, now, that he thinks he might be able to count Fushiguro's lashes. The idea almost sidetracks him.
“Why won’t you look at me?”, he asks instead.
Fushiguro takes a step back, hitting the sink behind him. There’s literally no room to escape Yuuji’s proximity. Fushiguro grips the sink’s edges as if to steady himself against it.
“Because you’re making it difficult”.
“Difficult?”. Yuuji bats his eyes, puzzled. “To look at me?”.
“No– Yes. I don’t know”, Fushiguro mutters, glowering at Yuuji’s chest. “It doesn’t fucking matter”.
Yuuji feels another pang in his chest. He doesn’t get what’s passing through his friend’s mind and he hates that Fushiguro isn’t looking at him, but one thing he knows. It’s painfully obvious.
“I’m sorry I hurt you, Fushiguro”, Yuuji whispers. “I really am”.
A hoarse sob escapes Fushiguro’s lips and he finally pierces Yuuji with watery eyes.
“I told you to stop talking”, he snaps back, but his tone is pleading.
Yuuji can’t stand to see him like that.
“Can I hug you, then?”, he blurts out. “Please?”.
Fushiguro sniffs, looking up in frustration, but probably also to keep the tears from falling.
“Don’t beg when you’re trying to do me a favor”.
Yuuji almost expects him to recoil, when he raises a hand to stroke one of his arms.
“I’m not doing it only for you, you know”, Yuuji admits, letting his hand travel from Fushiguro’s arm to his shoulder and then the back of his neck. His fingers trail the short hair on his nape. They’re so soft against his calloused skin.
He pulls him close into a tight embrace, and Fushiguro meets him.
Yuuji presses his face against Fushiguro’s cheek. It’s warm. His whole body is warm and thriving and alive. They both are.
“God, I missed you”, Yuuji admits spontaneously. Then he suddenly feels self-conscious. He gives a nervous laugh.
“You can say it if you missed me, too”, he jokes, giving a light pat on his friend’s shoulder.
Catching Yuuji off-guard, Fushiguro hides in the nook of his neck.
“I can’t”.
Fushiguro’s breath is hot and damp against his bare skin. Yuuji shivers.
“Why?”.
Fushiguro chuckles, but there’s no humor in his tone.
“Because I’m just tall. No other attributes”.
Yuuji frowns, startled.
“Huh?”.
“I can’t do this anymore”, Fushiguro sighs, defeated, as he slightly pushes Yuuji back, disentangling from their embrace.
Every cell in Yuuji’s body feels like it wants to protest.
“What do you mean?”, he asks, struggling to keep up.
Fushiguro breathes through his nose, pressing his lips together. Yuuji fixates on them. But then the full force of Fushiguro’s stare catches him back up. And it’s there again, that mixture of raw emotions that, now as before, is knocking the air out of Yuuji’s lungs.
“I mean that Todou is right, Itadori. I… I like you”, Fushiguro admits, overwhelmed. “I realized only after you died. So I said that stupid thing to Todou, not thinking that you’d come back to find out. Hah, the joke’s on me”.
Fushiguro smiles. It’s something small, vulnerable. Yuuji’s eyes dart all over his face. He can’t get enough of looking at him.
He seems so real, so vibrant. Yuuji wants to reach out and touch his face to make sure he’s not some sort of dream his mind conjured to make fun of him.
But then Fushiguro’s shoulders slump.
“I’m sorry about that”, he says, turning his head away, just before he could witness what’s blossoming on Yuuji’s face.
Yuuji simply stares at him, utterly outdone. He opens his mouth and closes it again, then he scowls, feeling some sort of restlessness firing him up.
“Why are you apologizing?”, he asks, tension seeping through his voice.
Fushiguro’s vulnerable smile morphs into a forced smirk. It feels so wrong that Yuuji literally has to restrain himself from wiping it away with a thumb.
“Because it’s unrequited, isn’t it?”, Fushiguro quotes Todou’s words. “And rather… no, totally impossible”.
Yuuji is stunned into silence again. He feels like his heart is bursting at the seams with the need to talk, to say something, anything, yet he doesn’t know how to.
But one thing he does know. And it’s that he cannot stand watching Fushiguro making that rejected smile for a second longer. Just– not because of him. Not because he somehow got into his head that he isn’t enough for Yuuji, while fuck, actually… actually–
The realization hits him, but it’s not a slap in the face. It’s nothing violent or painful. On the contrary, it settles into him, like a magnet drawn to its inevitable place.
He kind of feels like when he’s in Gojo-sensei’s domain and everything and nothing collides inside of him and he suddenly understands. He wants to snort in frustration because, god, why am I so dense?
He sighs instead, allowing himself to relish in Fushiguro’s presence and, for the first time, actually grasp everything that does to him.
He’s never been one to mull over his feelings. He just feels them. He accepts them as they come: happiness, anger, even grief. He’s always been like that, but now his life is hanging by a thread, one that could snap at any moment on Sukuna’s or some old fart’s whim.
Dammit, he’s not going to waste his second chance by doubting, or worse, lying to himself.
Even though what has been growing slowly inside of him for the past months is quite… unexpected. Even though it pretty much overthrows what he always thought about himself.
“You’re the one who’s jumping to conclusions, now", Yuuji blurts out, finally finding his voice again.
“I never…”, he takes a steadying breath. “I never said I only like tall women with a big ass. I answered with my preference for women because that’s what Todou asked”, he says, realizing and accepting the truth behind his own words as they spill from his mouth.
“To me, he didn’t say it was alright to name a guy, too”.
Fushiguro’s eyes snap back at him, and it’s Yuuji’s turn to feel like he’s not able to hold his stare. He wills himself to not divert his, though, for Fushiguro looks like he’s searching for a lie, in there.
There is not. Yuuji is nothing but honest to a fault.
“What would you have told him, if he did?”, Fushiguro finally asks, awestruck.
Yuuji smiles. He can’t help it, that’s what being close to Fushiguro does to him. He scratches his nose sheepishly.
“Still tall, I guess. With dark hair and nice eyes and, huh, long, pretty lashes. Quite funny and also kind, though he thinks he’s good at hiding it. And well, definitely not lacking in the ass department”.
Fushiguro sputters something unintelligible. Yuuji’s grin grows cheeky.
“Too much?”, he asks his flustered friend, who’s covering his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Yeah. Maybe”, Fushiguro mutters and Yuuji laughs.
“That’s an accurate description, though”.
Fushiguro shuts his eyes, seemingly to collect himself. Then he peers back at Yuuji, hope and wonder and wariness laced in his voice.
“Is that really how you see me?”.
Yuuji’s smile dims, but it doesn’t really leave his eyes. He hopes his tone conveys what he’s feeling because he has no idea if he’s coming out with the right words.
“I see a lot more, but I’m not that good at saying this kind of stuff”, he admits.
Fushiguro lets his hand drop from his face. His eyelids grow heavy, his overwhelmed stare turning into a determined, challenging one.
“Show me, then”.
For once Yuuji grasps something right on the spot. His eyes are drawn once more to Fushiguro’s lips, as he gets what his friend is asking of him.
And surprisingly, it’s a provocation that Yuuji isn’t afraid to accept.
In an instant, Yuuji’s hand finds Fushiguro’s nape again. He lets his fingers thread into Fushiguro’s messy hair, as he brings him closer and smashes their lips together. He has no clue about what he’s doing, but at the same time, he doesn’t really care.
Yuuji allows his instincts to take over, his body eager to show Fushiguro just how much he means to him. Yuuji’s mouth finds him over and over again, never getting enough now that he got a taste. He feels elated somehow, like when he’s striking one Black Flash after the other.
On his part, Fushiguro responds just as avidly. He meets Yuuji’s kisses like a drowning man longing for air, gripping Yuuji’s biceps and then his back with his strong, lean hands. God, what does that do to Yuuji.
He has always admired Fushiguro’s hands. They’re slightly bigger than his own, but more slender and deft. Yuuji has wasted more time than necessary wondering how something so pretty could be so powerful, as well. And as those hands urge Yuuji near, he can’t help but think the same of Fushiguro’s body.
He’s not put off by the fact that it’s not soft, or curvy, or anything that his teenage hormones had conjured whenever he thought of his first kiss. It seems to fit perfectly in his arms as it is, and Yuuji could have laughed in appreciation if his mouth wasn’t preoccupied otherwise.
When they finally find in themselves to part, they’re both out of breath. Fushiguro’s eyes are blown wide, his lips are glistening and a beautiful blush has spread on his cheeks. Yuuji strokes them with his thumbs just because he can.
“Fuck”, Fushiguro pants. He leans his forehead against Yuuji’s. “I missed you”, he admits vehemently, his palms resting on Yuuji’s chest. “I missed you so much”.
Yuuji returns the press of Fushiguro’s head with his own.
“I’m here now”.
Fushiguro shuts his eyes, hands fisting Yuuji’s uniform.
“Don’t you ever dare leave me again”, he mutters with a hoarse voice.
Yuuji can’t help but smile.
“Is that a proposal, Fushiguro?”.
Fushiguro just sighs, exasperated. He lets Yuuji’s jacket go, smoothing out the creases he created.
“Megumi”, he says after a pause. “You can call me that, if you want”.
Yuuji bites his lips to contain another smile.
“Megumi… it’s a nice name”.
Megumi grimaces, clearly not agreeing.
“Because it’s a girl's name?”.
That couldn't have been farther from the truth.
“Nah. Because it’s yours. Everything about you is nice”.
Fushiguro clicks his tongue, blushing harder.
“Damn sap. Shut up”.
“You keep saying that”, Yuuji chuckles, earning himself a glare.
“But you never listen, so I probably should shut your stupid mouth myself”.
And oh, shut him up Megumi does.
Not that Yuuji has anything to complain about, though their teeth end up clashing together just as much as their tongues. It’s still the best second first kiss he could have ever hoped for.
They part again, taking a moment to savor the other’s taste lingering on their lips. Yuuji can’t really stand to be too far from Megumi, though, so goes back to nuzzle his cheek, relishing in the contact.
“You have to call me Yuuji, then”, he decides contentedly.
“Oh, I have to?”. Megumi levels him with a look, his usual self peeking through. Yuuji feels elated.
“Yep! That’s what boyfriends do”.
Megumi clearly tries to fight and keep his cool.
“Aren’t you getting way ahead of yourself?“.
Yuuji lets out a breathy, bittersweet laugh.
“No way. I should’ve done this, like, yesterday”, he muses, a little upset with himself.
God, how could he have not seen it before, that he’s head over heels for this boy? And that he doesn’t care a flying fuck that he is a boy? Or that, ah, there’s a high chance he maybe possibly likes him exactly because he is one?
It’s so obvious, now. Yuuji feels strangely confident, as he admits to himself that he longs to touch Megumi and be with him in every possible way.
And he kind of feels finally whole, as he realizes that his heart has always beaten a bit faster, been a little more alive since he has met Megumi.
Until it wasn’t. Alive and beating that is.
Something that could happen again. Something that probably would, sooner rather than later.
He lost precious, fleeting time being an oblivious idiot. He has no intention of keeping doing that, though.
Yuuji’s mind distractedly registers that Megumi’s weight is still resting against the sink behind him, and he decides that it can probably hold a little more pressure.
So he leans over his friend, his hands going to rest on the sink edge on either side of him.
“Oi, Megumi”. Yuuji pins him with his gaze, a new resolve forming in his mind. “I’m probably gonna rush things between us. Is that okay?”.
Megumi blinks, searching Yuuji’s eyes cautiously. Yuuji stares back at him without shame, letting each and every one of his intentions peek through.
Megumi’s breath falters. He dampens his lips.
“Good”, he states, just before pulling Yuuji close by his uniform again.
-
NOTES: Shoutout to those who recognized the Sex Education inspired location!
Thank you for reading. ❤
2022-05-07 22:38:35 +0000 UTC
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