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There's the soft snap of the light switch in the campus lobby, and...
“Ah!”
Yuji freezes, packets of food in hand. Upon noticing the deep green eyes staring at him in confusion and slight exasperation, he swiftly makes a move to hide his soda and snacks behind his back.
“Fushiguro! You couldn't sleep too?” he says, trying to cover up the obvious, as if he was a kid caught stealing candy from the cupboard.
He quite literally bought the food earlier while they were in town, and he got the soda himself from the vending machine...
“Yes, I couldn't,” Megumi replies after a moment, eyebrow raising at the other's course of action. “I didn't expect to see you rummaging around the lobby during this time of night, though. And what's with you hiding that stuff behind your back?”
“It's just embarrassing to be caught!”
“You're lucky it's just me instead of a teacher. It's curfew.”
“Of course. I'm very thankful that it's you. But, uh, just to make sure...” Yuji takes a quick glance at the entrance and exit of the lobby, before bringing his voice down to a whisper: “There aren't any teachers patrolling right now, right...? I still don't want to go back to sleep.”
“No, it's all good. But we should probably turn the light off once we're done.” Megumi says, walking toward the vending machine, and getting a can of juice for himself. “I'll stay up with you.”
“That's really nice of you to do, Fushiguro, but there's no need to!”
“I insist. Besides, I don't think I'll be able to sleep properly either way.”
After a couple moments more, Yuji makes a move to flick the lights off, his pointer finger slowly pressing into the switch, a practiced effort that gives off little to no sound. Megumi raises his eyebrow at this. Perhaps Yuji has been staying up more often than he thought.
They sneak out into the hall, their steps purposefully quiet as they venture out into the yard; they hit a bit of a snag when Yuji's sneakers make a slight screech against the waxed floors, and the two boys stare at each other, frozen with mortified expressions.
Well, while simultaneously looking like they're about to shit their pants laughing.
After a brief pause, they begin walking again, finding the exit.
Upon taking a step outside, they're greeted by the crisp and fresh night air, inviting them to sit in the grass and bask in the soft rays of moonlight.
Megumi takes a seat on a bench, while Yuji makes himself comfortable on the ground, lifting the can tab and opening his soda. For a moment, the boy is startled, thinking that it's about to fizz and make a mess—his brain goes on autopilot and he immediately gulps down most of the beverage before it's given a chance to escape from the can. He hears a faint chuckle coming from the bench, and he smiles sheepishly at Megumi.
The boy in question pats the spot next to him, saying, “Isn't it uncomfortable to sit on the grass?”
Yuji shakes his head. “It isn't too bad!” Though as he speaks, he moves to sit next to the other boy anyway. Megumi lets out a scoff at this, but there's no real heat behind it. It's more fond than anything.
They talk about the most random things, like how outlandish and funny Gojo looked during class that day, how their most recent mission went, and the state of Nobara's closet after they went out buying things with Gojo's card. The white-haired sorcerer had offered, after all; he shouldn't be surprised to see how overflowing Nobara's closet was.
Yuji keeps looking up at the sky, mouth running several kilometers per second. Megumi looks at him the entire time, eyes fixed upon his own, watching the boy's eyes crinkle and shift as he speaks about anything and everything. Megumi looks at him as if he hung the very stars that twinkle at them as the night wears on.
The two boys decide to return to the dormitories after a while, scared shitless due to a rustle in the bush that they had assumed was from a school staff member; it was actually just the campus cat rolling around idly, pleased with itself and at ease. They still decide, in the end, that it's not worth the risk. Goodness forbid they get found by Principal Yaga, or one of his freaky cursed corpses.
Yuji's still as energetic as ever, but Megumi can see how his eyes are drooping closed, how he keeps forcing himself awake just for a second more to walk and talk with Megumi. Once they finally make it in front of Yuji's door, the green-eyed sorcerer asks, voice soft amidst the chorus if crickets chirping:
“What's been causing you to stay up so much?” Those words make Yuji jolt awake.
“I... well, I haven't been staying up late that mu—”
“I've noticed it from time to time. No need to cover it up, Itadori. I just want to understand.”
Yuji gives him a look, one so clearly indicative of him conceding, and it makes something in Megumi churn at the victory. And at the losing expression the other boy's got.
“It's a bit silly, but I've been having nightmares.”
Ah.
Megumi keeps himself from asking what kind he's been having, because he's more than sure that they're something similar to his; flashes of the detention center, a crater where Yuji's heart should be, and the smile he'd given Megumi before falling dead. It's a haunting memory, and Megumi keeps finding himself recalling, momentarily panicked after snapping out of it, searching for a sign of life from Yuji whenever he can.
Luckily for him, Yuji's just so incredibly alive. He's full of life, and not at all like that unmoving, yet peaceful carcass that was at Megumi's feet that night. Each and every one of Yuji's little mannerisms are scraps thrown to Megumi, and the boy finds himself relishing and savoring them, knowing that it could all be ripped away from him any day now...
“It's not silly, though. Are you alright?” Megumi finds himself asking even if it's not the best thing to say. He can't seem to help it.
“I'm alright! Don't fret over me, Fushiguro!” Yuuji assures him, with this big, wide smile on his face.
But Megumi can't help it. He can't help how much he internally frets over Yuji, because the incident feels so raw and tender, like a new, just now closing up wound. He can't help how his eyes trail over to Yuji so easily, because Yuji is simply the way Yuji is: never easily swayed, never letting himself be dissuaded from his goals. Megumi absolutely cannot help the thump of his heart and how despite the little annoyances this boy provides, he's still cut right open with that desire to know and understand him. He still wants to save him—that's never changed.
“...Do you mind if I stay for the night?” The question sounds so odd now that Megumi's said it. It's as if the control was ripped straight away from him, because how come it was said so easily?
Yuji looks at him, eyes soft and surprised. “You,” he starts, “want to stay in my room tonight?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you alright, Fushiguro? Have you been having nightmares too?” Now Yuji's voice has picked up a tinge of concern.
“Yeah, I have,” Megumi confesses. Yuji looks at him again, blinking a few times.
"So we've been in the same boat the whole time! Why didn't you ever mention it?"
"Itadori, it's not exactly the easiest to admit I get nightmares to just anybody. Doesn't it make me seem a bit childish?"
"Well, no! Do you think I'm childish for having nightmares?" Yuuji questions, clearly gunning for a specific answer. Megumi knows and gives it to him with only a sigh.
"...No, of course not."
"Then that's that! Stay over for the night, Fushiguro," Yuuji offers, though it sounds more final than anything; Megumi doesn't dwell on that. He knows he'll give in.
The two boys stumbled through the door way and Megumi was met by the somewhat familiar sight of Yuji's room. It was neither too clean nor messy, though a chair was being used as an area to stockpile Yuji's new and unfolded laundry. There was also the shelf next to the desk, stacked with volumes of manga, ones that Yuji had slowly collected during the time he was away and presumed dead (the method being merely mentioning his boredom and how he was missing out on his favorite mangas to Gojo).
The blankets on Yuji's bed weren't folded, pushed away toward the side of the bed that was pushed against the wall, as if he spontaneously got up and rushed out of the room. One of his pillows were folded in half, and the boy noted how flat the pillows really were. It made him question Yuji's sleeping habits; after all, Megumi had been staying on campus even before the school year officially started, and his pillows hadn't deflated yet, whereas Yuji, who'd been around for around two months, already managed to flatten his. It made the former wonder if he rolled around in his sleep, or something.
"Your room is nice," Megumi hesitantly offers up a topic of conversation, breaking the brief silence.
“Is it really? I feel embarrassed now that Fushiguro's seeing how much of a mess it really is...” The boy rubs the back of his neck, now seated on his bed. He pats the space next to him.
Megumi sits down. “It is messy.”
“Ouch!”
“But it's very much you,” he continues, eyes fixed on his own hands, folded in his lap. “That's why it's so nice.”
There's a flicker of something in Yuji's eyes. “Oh,” he manages. “Really?”
“Yeah.” Megumi looks up now, meeting Yuji's gaze. “Really.”
The air between the two is thick with something, but it's suffocating in a way that isn't exactly unpleasant. Rather, it's something both of them seem to have expected—and now that they've taken it on, no longer is there this sort of shyness that has always, always hidden itself beneath their interactions; no longer does it seal away the truth.
For a few minutes, the two boys talk some more. They laugh, groan, and whisper—their jaws hurt by the end of it. Yuji's breathless, having just finished a marathon of words, and Megumi's—well, Megumi's still starry-eyed, the dark of the room the only thing hiding it.
Eventually, as the conversation dies down, the two lay in bed. At first they shift and struggle to fit on the mattress, but after a few more minutes, they manage. Their legs are wrapped together, skin to skin, bone to bone; it's warm. Megumi's got an arm resting under his head, and he's still looking as he lays on his side. The other boy's laying on his back.
As the night progresses, Yuji turns to his side. They're both drowsy now, and they're halfway off to the meadows of sleep.
“Good night, Fushiguro,” he whispers softly, his hand resting on Megumi's arm.
Megumi looks at him blearily, but a the soft curve of his lips assures the other that he's not at all irritated.
“Good night, Itadori.”
Even without blankets, Yuji's bed feels so much warmer than what Megumi was used to. He can't tell a thing apart as he sleeps, but all he's conscious of is that it's soft. It's soft and he can feel Yuji's breath. He can feel the rise and fall of the boy's chest, the peaceful and constant strum of his heartbeat.
For a moment, he wakes. He presses his ear to where Yuji's hear would be, and he simply listens, the sound now memorized. It puts him at ease, drawing him back to sleep. Even Yuji's random bouts of shuffling and shifting are a welcome disturbance for the green-eyed boy; rather than startling him awake, it gives him some sort of peace.
...It's been a while since either of them have been able to sleep well like this.