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“Are you alright?” Fushiguro asked softly as his gentle hands wrapped bandages around the deep cut along the top of Itadori’s arm.
Itadori smiled. “I’m okay.” He assured, wincing slightly as Fushiguro skirted over a particularly sensitive spot.
“Sorry.” Fushiguro apologised, somehow gentling his touch even more. “The hell happened anyway?” He questioned, glancing at the bruises that littered Itadori’s face. “Was it a curse? Or did you get into a fight again?”
Shrugging, Itadori scratched the back of his neck with his free hand. “I think he came out of it worse than I did.” He said sheepishly, and Fushiguro frowned at him.
“You told me that you’d stop fighting people like this. I know you feel bad about Shibuya, but getting into fights just to get your ass kicked isn’t the way to deal with it.” Fushiguro told him as he secured the bandage with a little bit of tape. “Take off your shirt. I need to check the wounds on your torso.”
Itadori did what was asked of him, showing a deep half-healed cut running from halfway down his oblique to the edge of his hip. It pained Fushiguro to see Itadori hurt like this, but he got it. He’d been there before, feeling so guilty that you’d let someone beat the shit out of you just to feel something again. He’d been in the same position when he thought Itadori was dead.
Itadori winced again as Fushiguro placed a cloth with rubbing alcohol on it onto a cut down his side. “It wasn’t about Shibuya.” He said honestly, still not looking at Fushiguro directly.
Fushiguro flicked his eyes briefly to Itadori’s face before looking back at the wound he was cleaning out. “What was this one about then?” He asked, placing a clean dressing on the cut before bandaging it in place.
There was a small silence and Fushiguro was sure Itadori wasn’t going to answer him. The latter let out a soft grunt as pressure was applied to the half-open wound. “You.” He said, finally, and Fushiguro’s hands stilled as he looked at him with a furrowed brow; confusion tapered all over his face. Itadori remained looking straight ahead. “He said something about wanting you dead. I saw red. I don’t even remember the fight honestly.” He confessed, finally flicking his eyes to meet Fushiguro’s. His lip curled up a little as he placed his hand on Fushiguro’s cheek.
Fushiguro knocked his hand away after a few seconds, blushing a little as he went back to securing Itadori’s bandages. “That’s a stupid reason to fight someone.” He murmured, and Itadori chuckled softly.
“Well, I wasn’t going to let him get away with saying something like that.” Itadori argued, still smiling smally at Fushiguro. “I’m sorry.” He apologised sincerely.
Taping the bandage to itself after tightening, Fushiguro looked back at Itadori’s face. “You’ve got a nasty bruise on your cheek.” He observed, gently grasping Itadori’s chin and tilting his head to one side. “Did you hit your head at all?”
Thinking for a moment, Itadori shook his head. “No. The worst thing he did was those two stab wounds.” He confirmed.
“You say that like they’re no big deal.” Fushiguro stated as he packed away the first aid kit.
Itadori gripped his own shoulder and rolled it back. “Is that all? Am I all patched up?” He asked, remaining sat as he awaited a response.
Fushiguro hummed a little as he put the kit back in his top drawer. “Yeah, but you need to take it easy for a bit, okay?” He warned. “Your cuts were deep. They’ve pretty much stopped bleeding, but I think that’s thanks to Sukuna. The dressings need changing in a few hours, so I’ll decide if you need stitches then or not, and if you do I’ll do it myself.”
Itadori groaned in annoyance. “I can’t just sit around when there are curses out there killing people just because I exist.” He argued as he stood back up, picking up his bloodied tshirt and pulling it back on.
“Don’t be dense.” Fushiguro retorted. “Okkotsu is away, and Ieiri can’t know you’re here. There’s no reverse curse technique user that can heal you right now. Other than Sukuna but it seems he’d prefer you suffer.” He observed, placing a hand on Itadori’s chest and pushing back a little, trying to urge him to sit back down.
Itadori frowned. “I can’t…” He argued, pushing Fushiguro’s hand off him. “I’ll be careful. But I can’t stay here.” He said. “You have to let me go, Fushiguro.”
“No. I really don’t.” Fushiguro responded. “If you go back out there and one of your wounds reopens, you could die.”
“If anyone finds me here, they’ll kill you .” Itadori smiled softly as he gently grasped one of Fushiguro’s hands in his own. “It’s okay.” He confirmed and Fushiguro was reminded of the last two times Itadori saved him.
It wasn’t fair. The Shibuya incident hadn’t been Itadori’s fault - it was the curse’s fault for feeding him too many fingers at once, and locking Gojo away. Itadori shouldn’t have had to die because of something that wasn’t his fault. “I can’t keep doing this, Itadori.” He said, feeling overly emotional. “I can’t keep patching you up then sending you off, not knowing if or when I’ll see you again.” He expressed, close enough to tears that Itadori felt guilty.
“I’m sorry.” Itadori apologised again, the words still just as genuine. He gently grasped Fushiguro’s elbows. “You won’t be safe if I stay.” He argued again.
“Please.” Fushiguro gripped Itadori’s forearms. “I’m not asking you to stay forever. I know you can’t, but…” He paused, locking eyes with the other, pleading silently. “Just tonight.” He bargained. “Just stay for tonight.”
Itadori glanced at the clock on the wall. It was late and he was tired, and it wouldn’t be the end of the world to stay in one place just for one night. He looked back at Fushiguro and smiled softly, nodding once as he spoke. “Okay.” He agreed. “Just tonight.” He repeated Fusiguro’s words.
Relief ran through Fushiguro’s body, and for just a moment he stopped thinking, but it was long enough for him to lean forward and kiss his best friend. It was something he’d wanted to do for months now; with the way Itadori didn’t pull away, and instead kissed him back, Fushiguro could sense that he probably felt the exact same way. And, fuck, it felt good.
When he pulled back, he kept his forehead leaning against Itadori’s, keeping his eyes closed as his breathing returned to normal. Itadori’s hand squeezed his arm and he found himself opening his eyes, being met with the warm honey and soft smile as he did. “How long have you been waiting to do that?” He asked, genuinely curious.
Blush lightly fluttered across Fushiguro’s cheeks as he kept his eyes locked on Itadori’s. “Since that first day.” He said honestly. “The moment you put your life on the line to help your friends. Since then.”
Itadori closed his eyes and smiled. “That’s why you asked Gojo to save me?” He felt Fushiguro nod, then his smile dropped a little and he swallowed with a click. “Do you regret it?” Itadori asked, his voice a little quieter. “After everything that’s happened, do you ever think maybe it would have been better if I had been executed after eating the first finger?”
For a moment there was silence, and Itadori felt the guilt wash through him once again before Fushiguro’s hands landed on his cheeks and his lips touched against Itadori’s again. “I would never regret saving you, Itadori.” He spoke almost too quiet to hear. “Not even a little.”
He kissed Itadori again, a little more fervently this time, pushing him back so that he was forced to sit on the edge of the bed, Fushiguro following him down and straddling his knees on either side of his hips.
Itadori’s hands made their way to Fushiguro’s hips with a hold that was somehow both firm and gentle. Fushiguro pulled away and there was a moment - just a singular moment - where neither of them moved, their lips so close they could feel each other’s breath. “Fushiguro…” Itadori breathed out softly. “I wanna… ah…” His words halted as Fushiguro’s lips found their way to his neck, kissing and nibbling softly, taking pride in the light noises he was pulling from Itadori. Itadori leaned his neck to one side, revelling in the feeling of Fushiguro. “Fushi-”
“Megumi.” Fushiguro interrupted as he briefly pulled back to pull Itadori’s tshirt up over his head. “It’s Megumi.” He repeated, leaning forward again and kissing across Itadori’s shoulder back to his neck.
Itadori hummed, and Fushiguro pushed him backwards so Itadori was left lying there looking up at him. He smiled as he ran his fingers up the outside of Fushiguro’s thighs, letting himself remain held beneath Fushiguro’s pressing fingers.
Looking down on him, Fushiguro returned the smile. He gripped the edge of his own tshirt, then pulled it off without hesitation, finally equally as exposed as the other. Itadori’s eyes twinkled as he scanned over Fushiguro’s torso and in one swift motion, he lifted the other and lay his head on the pillows at the top of the bed, leaning over him with a small smirk before pressing down into his lips again. His fingers gently traced up Fushiguro’s side, and the aforementioned pulled back as he laughed, stilling Itadori’s hand with his own. “That tickled.” He plastered on a serious face that asked Itadori not to repeat the action.
Itadori smiled sleepily, ducking his head down to land on Fushiguro’s shoulder, his face mere centimetres from the other’s. “Megumi,” He whispered softly. “I’ve wanted this for so long…”
“Me too.” Fushiguro breathed in response.
He could feel Itadori smile against his skin. “I really want to do this… but-”
“But?” Fushiguro interrupted and Itadori pulled back, placing one hand on his cheek as he did.
“I’m so tired.” He finished honestly, and Fushiguro could see the truth in the bags beneath his eyes, and the paleness of his face. “If we do this now, I won’t be fully here. And I don’t wanna risk that for even a moment.” He confessed, and Fushiguro reached up and cupped the back of his neck, pulling him down so their foreheads touched.
“It’s okay.” Fushiguro softly insisted. “Let’s sleep now. We’ve both waited so long, what’s one more night, huh?”
Itadori nodded once, keeping his head against Fushiguro’s and letting his eyes fall closed. “Thank you for always taking care of me, Megumi.” He said quietly.
Fushiguro flushed a little as he closed his eyes too. “Well someone has to, idiot.” He murmured. “You don’t look after yourself, so if I didn’t, no one would.” ” He pointed out. Itadori lay down on his side, opening his arms to urge Fushiguro to curl into his chest. Fushiguro hesitated. “Are you in any pain?” He asked, not wanting to push into Itadori if he was still hurting.
Shaking his head, Itadori placed his hand on Fushiguro’s cheek. “I’m good.” He assured. “Now c’mere.” He smiled, and Fushiguro gently moved into his chest, freezing when Itadori flinched slightly. “I’m good.” Itadori repeated, pulling Fushiguro closer despite his halted movements.
There was a long silence as they both lay comfortably, just feeling each other’s warmth. Itadori’s breathing evened out surprisingly fast, and Fushiguro felt himself relax on knowing Itadori was safe. For the first time in months , he knew for a fact that Itadori was safe.
“I love you.” Fushiguro whispered into Itadori’s chest, hoping the confession made its way into Itadori’s psyche. “I wish you’d stay, I really wish you’d let me keep you safe.” He added, knowing Itadori wouldn’t hear him.
Itadori stirred slightly. Not much; just squeezing a little tighter and humming softly. And slowly, Fushiguro fell asleep too.
***
Fushiguro felt cold when he woke up. Itadori was no longer wrapped around him, and for a moment he felt his heart pit into his stomach.
Then he heard shuffling behind him, and he rolled over scanning Itadori as he pulled his uniform jacket back on. “Why do you still wear that?” He asked, and Itadori glanced over his shoulder and smiled softly at Fushiguro.
“What do you mean?”
“Well,” Fushiguro began. “You aren’t a student anymore. The higher ups called for your execution, surely dressing less like a jujutsu sorcerer would be better?” He leaned up on his elbow, scratching his head as he awaited a response.
Itadori shrugged, looking back down as he buttoned up his uniform. “Wearing it’s a force of habit now.” He said honestly. “Plus, I can’t really go and take any of my clothes. They’d know I was here.” He explained.
Fushiguro hummed as he sat up on the edge of his bed. “So that’s it, huh?” He asked, looking at Itadori with almost pleading eyes. “You’re just leaving?”
Giving a hurt smile, Itadori sat on the edge of the bed next to Fushiguro. “You know I can’t stay.” He started. “I wish I could, I really do.” He gripped Fushiguro’s hand gently. “I miss you. All the time.”
Fushiguro gave him a sad smile. “I miss you too.” He paused as he squeezed Itadori’s hand. “Stay just a little longer?”
Itadori glanced out the window to see the sky starting to brighten, then sighed softly. “It’s almost dawn.” He argued. “If I stay much longer, someone might-”
Fushiguro interrupted him by pushing forward into another kiss. Itadori was surprised, to begin with, but easily melted into it, sliding one of his hands to the small of Fushiguro’s back and pulling him in a little closer.
It wasn’t long before Itadori had pushed Fushiguro back and was leaning over him, kissing him intensely; hungrily. His lips worked their way across Fushiguro’s jaw and dipped down to his neck.
“Yuuji…” Fushiguro breathed out softly between pants, sliding his hand into Itadori’s hair and gripping tightly as if he was urging him to continue.
Itadori pulled back slightly, looking down at Fushiguro with an almost sentimental smile. “I need to go, Megumi.” He said softly; apologetically.
“You don’t.” Fushiguro argued. “I’ll hide you. Please don’t leave me again.”
With a hand gently cupping one of his cheeks, Itadori left a lingering kiss on Fushiguro’s lips. “I’ll be back before you know it.” He promised quietly. “Don’t miss me too much, okay?” He smiled in that boyish way that just met his eyes.
Fushiguro turned his head, kissing the inside of Itadori’s hand. “I always miss you.” He said honestly.
Itadori kissed him on the head once more, heading to the window and looking back at Fushiguro one final time. “I’ll see you again soon.” He assured, disappearing out of sight before Fushiguro could say anything more.
Fushiguro lay staring up at the ceiling for what must’ve been hours before someone came to wake him for class. He hated worrying about what Itadori was doing; if he was alive, or if he was even still Itadori as opposed to Sukuna.
It was a pain, but it was worth it. For Itadori, anything was worth it.