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There was something freeing about loving a dead man. Nothing mattered. And yet everything mattered.
Things like laughing at a joke Gojo said, it was fleeting and if you asked Megumi what the joke was he wouldn’t remember it. But he would remember the unrepentant snort that came out of Yuuji’s nose for years to come.
Yuuji showing him how to make meatballs is one that will stick with him forever. Not because of how good they were (and they were the best ones he’d ever had) but when Yuuji’s hand just barely brushed against the back of Megumi’s and he felt the warmest he’d ever felt in his life. That was it. And also maybe how good the meatballs were.
When Yuuji would interrupt whatever Megumi was doing to make him listen to whatever song he was currently obsessed with. Megumi would remember the song being catchy and him thinking it suited Yuuji perfectly but when he thinks about it he only remembers the peace he felt sitting on Yuuji's bed sharing headphones with the sound of rain behind them.
Their first kiss. There had been no lead up. No awkward confessions. It was just… them. Being separate but together. Then suddenly they were together. Megumi would always think back to how surprised he was by how soft Yuuji’s hands were as they gently touched his face. Not at all callous like he had thought. And the way that the cicadas sang in the background as the heat of summer melted into their skin. The shade of the tree they sat under doing nothing to quell the heat Megumi felt under his skin.
The morning after the first night they slept together. It was a night of slow passion and quiet promises that both of them knew neither of them could keep. Megumi woke to the sun peaking through the blinds of Yuuji’s room, his thin body expertly cradled by Yuuji’s strong one. The soft shade of pink of Yuuji’s hair that was lit by the sun and made him look… ethereal.
This was the moment Megumi knew he was walking a tightrope. A thin wire, where on one side stood the looming fact that none of this would matter once Yuuji was executed. And on the other side stood the fact that Yuuji’s doom meant these were the moments Yuuji was choosing to have. These moments with Megumi. And that meant everything to him.
After that Megumi dove deep. He would take any moment to be with Yuuji that he could. Anything from watching him make coffee in the mornings to dancing with him to some ridiculous pop song in the afternoons. Megumi didn’t care. He was in love with a dead man walking. And he would make every moment something. Even if it was nothing.