Archive of Our Own

"Wow, so this is a 'love hotel.'"

Yuuji's voice echoed too loudly in the narrow hallway. He was staring at the wallpaper, its red heart pattern peeling off in long strips, with a mix of genuine fascination and horror.

"I feel like I'm in a low-budget horror movie."

Megumi didn't respond right away. He just frowned, adjusting the high collar of his uniform as if that could protect him from the sticky atmosphere of the building.

"It's an abandoned love hotel, Itadori. It's not a field trip," he said finally, keeping his eyes forward. "Focus."

"Yeah, yeah." Yuuji put his hands behind his head, looking around. "But hey, why is it just the two of us? Where are Nobara and Gojo-sensei?"

Megumi sighed as if the question physically hurt him.

"Kugisaki went shopping with Gojo-sensei. Apparently, finding designer bags in Shinsaibashi was more urgent than a low-grade curse."

"And they left us alone?"

"Ijichi's report says it barely has any residual power. We can handle it."

Yuuji dodged a chunk of ceiling dangling dangerously overhead.

"How cozy." He ran a finger along the wall and pulled it back immediately when he felt the grime. "Hey, Fushiguro, do you think the rooms in these places have mirrors on the ceiling? Because I've seen in movies that…"

The smack hit the back of his head with precision.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"Focus," Megumi repeated, without looking at him.

Yuuji rubbed his head, grinning. A terrible part of him thoroughly enjoyed how the tips of Megumi's ears turned red whenever he said things like that.

They walked down the hallway. Dotonbori was only a few blocks away. But in here, it was as if the world had switched off. The silence was broken only by the creak of their footsteps and the drip of some broken pipe. Nobody came near this building. The neighbors in the area talked about disappearances, noises at impossible hours, stories no one wanted to tell out loud. The place was its own veil.

They passed a room with a destroyed door, and Yuuji couldn't help peeking inside.

"Fushiguro, come look! There's a round bed! And a jacuzzi shaped like…! Wait. Is that a swing?"

"I don't want to know."

"It's definitely a swing. But like, for adults." He tilted his head. "How does it work? One person sits and the other…?"

Another smack.

"Hey! That one hurt more than the first!"

"Next time I'll summon my Divine Dog to bite you."

"So aggressive." He rubbed his head, but the smile didn't fade. "Although, come to think of it, in a place like this, biting doesn't sound that out of place…"

Megumi looked at him, exasperated.

"One more word," he said, his voice dropping, "and I'm leaving you alone with the curse."

Yuuji shut up. Not so much because it scared him, but because that tone of voice did something strange that had nothing to do with the mission.

Megumi walked ahead of him, tense and alert. Yuuji could see the line of his shoulders under the uniform, the way his dark hair shifted slightly with each step. He was beautiful. He'd always thought so, even if he could barely admit it to himself.

And every time he thought it, his stomach clenched a little tighter. Because looking at Megumi always felt like memorizing something he was going to lose. The execution was no longer some abstract "if it happens." It was a when. And what churned his gut every night wasn't dying.

It was leaving without having told him anything.

Megumi walked with his jaw clenched, his back rigid, his hands shoved in his pockets.

"Oh! I think I found it," Yuuji said, stopping dead in front of the double doors of what had to be the main suite, at the end of the hallway.

Cursed energy seeped from under the door.

"Wait." Megumi formed the hand signs. "Divine Dog: Totality."

The shikigami emerged from his shadow, growling low toward the door.

"You know," Yuuji said, watching the cursed energy, "if this curse was born from the energy of a love hotel, I wonder what kind of technique it has. You think it attacks with…?"

"Itadori."

"Because technically, love is a powerful force, and if you combine that with what they did in these rooms…"

"Itadori."

"I'm just saying maybe it throws cursed condoms or something. Imagine the report: 'Itadori and Fushiguro were defeated by an attack of flying condoms in an Osaka love hotel…'"

The third smack of the night.

"Ow!"

"We're going in," Megumi said, and didn't give him time to protest further.

The door gave way with a single blow.

The room was spacious, with a dry heart-shaped jacuzzi in the back and broken mirrors everywhere. Floating above the bed was a grotesque mass. It looked like an enormous anatomical heart, but stitched together with what appeared to be dirty sheets and red cords, with multiple mouths murmuring unintelligible things.

"Disgusting," Yuuji muttered, putting up his guard. "Well, at least it's not flying condoms."

Megumi ignored him completely.

"Should I just punch it and we go?" he asked, cracking his knuckles. "I want to go to Dotonbori and buy takoyaki before the stalls close."

"Don't get cocky," Megumi warned.

The curse wasn't attacking.

"Come on, Fushiguro! It's Valentine's Day!" Yuuji lunged forward, loading his fist with cursed energy. "You said it was low-grade, right? Let's finish this quickly and go get takoyaki!"

"Itadori, don't!"

It was a trap, of course.

The moment Yuuji entered the range of the curse's innate domain, the floor beneath his feet stopped being solid. It turned into a viscous substance, like black molasses.

He fell into the black pool. The curse let out a shrill screech that sounded like hysterical laughter and clapped with two deformed limbs.

"Two hearts, one weight," the thing gurgled.

An invisible force, something that felt magnetic but far dirtier, pulled Megumi. Yuuji watched him resist for an instant before the force dragged him violently toward the center of the room, straight at him.

"Fushiguro!" he shouted, turning around.

The impact was dry and hard.

Megumi crashed into his back.

Yuuji expected him to bounce off or fall, but the opposite happened. The instant their shoulder blades touched, a discharge of energy shot through his spine. It was as if an industrial-strength magnet had activated inside their bodies. The shikigami vanished, and neither of them could move their legs or arms.

"What the hell?" He heard Megumi try to pull away, but it was useless. He was stuck. No, "stuck" was too soft a word. He was fused to his back.

"Move!" Megumi growled. Yuuji could feel the panic seeping into his voice.

"I'm trying!" He pushed with everything he had, so hard the fabric of his uniform creaked from the strain, but all he managed was to make pain explode through his spine. "I can't! It's like you're bolted to me! And I can't get out of this pool either!"

They sat trapped in the viscous floor, back to back.

Yuuji could feel everything. The heat of Megumi's body against his. The expansion of his ribs with each ragged breath and his heartbeat pounding rhythmically against his back.

The curse floated around them.

"Silence weighs," the curse said, its voice dragging. "The heart sinks. If you want to be free, you must lighten the load."

Yuuji noticed with horror that they were slowly sinking into the viscous floor. Centimeter by centimeter.

"Great," he said, trying to keep his voice light, but pressed against Megumi's back, there was no way to hide the trembling in his body. "A curse that wants us to do couples therapy or the ground eats us. Any plans, genius?"

Megumi didn't answer. They were trapped in an Osaka love hotel, bound to each other's fate, and the only way out was to open their mouths.

The black, viscous liquid already reached their knees. It was cold, a disgusting contrast to the searing heat radiating from Megumi's back against his.

"I ate Nobara's pudding!" Yuuji shouted, desperate. "And I used your fancy shampoo once because it smelled nice!"

The curse didn't flinch. The floor swallowed them another five centimeters in one gulp.

"That won't work with stupid shit, idiot!" Megumi snapped. "It's an innate domain based on emotional truth. It wants real weight. Pain."

"Then you say something!" Yuuji turned his head backward. "You're the smart one!"

He felt Megumi hold his breath. Felt the tension in his back build, and then,

"I'm scared," Megumi let out.

The descent stopped.

"Scared of what?" Yuuji asked quietly.

"Not of dying. It's…" He swallowed hard. "I hate that you act like you're fine. That you've accepted the execution like it's paperwork, like your life doesn't matter."

Yuuji went rigid.

"Fushigu…"

"Shut up." His voice cracked, losing its usual composure. "I'm not finished."

"You have an expiration date because of me. That weighs on me every single day, Itadori. And what weighs even more is knowing I should accept what's coming, like a good sorcerer, and I can't."

The only sound was the gurgling of the viscous floor.

The curse retreated slightly, as if the taste of that confession was too bitter to digest. They stopped sinking.

It was working. But it wasn't enough.

"It's not your fault," Yuuji said. His own voice sounded strange, wet, like he was holding back something he'd been keeping for months. "I ate the finger. It was entirely my decision."

"Because I couldn't handle the situation!"

"No!" He shoved backward in frustration. "Now you listen to me!"

He breathed deeply. Megumi must have felt his lungs expand against his back.

"Dying doesn't weigh on me, Fushiguro. Really," he said. "I deserve what's coming."

"Don't say that," Megumi whispered.

"It's the truth." His voice dropped to a trembling whisper. "What weighs on me… what terrifies me… is leaving you alone."

He felt Megumi go completely still.

The curse writhed in pain.

"What weighs on me is wanting to stay," his voice broke. "I should accept my fate, be the hero, smile. But right now, all I want is more time with you."

The curse shrieked. They could move their legs again, but the force binding their backs and arms together didn't disappear.

Something was still missing.

Yuuji realized that if they died here or if he died in two months, the regret would be exactly the same.

Never having told him.

And then Megumi spoke.

"It's not just companionship, is it?"

His voice sounded distant, as if coming from another body.

"Huh?"

"The reason we weigh so much… I want you alive because I want you, Yuuji."

Yuuji's heart was pounding so hard he could feel his ribs vibrate, and he knew Megumi could feel it against his back.

"I like you so much it hurts," Megumi said, and the words came out with a naturalness that wrecked him. "That's what weighs."

The curse recoiled, twisting in pain. The confession was toxic. A truth too bright and clean for a place built on shameful secrets and rotten regrets.

"Me too," Yuuji said with relief. "For so long. Since you looked at me like I was more than a cursed vessel. I thought I was going to die without telling you." He let out a shaky laugh. "And now you go and…"

CRACK.

The sound was like a bone breaking.

The invisible force holding them together released all at once and the pool vanished.

The momentum flung them in opposite directions. Yuuji nearly fell flat on his face, but his reflexes kicked in before his brain could process what had just happened. He rolled, summoning cursed energy into his right fist, getting into attack position.

The curse was convulsing in the air.

"Now!" Megumi shouted.

He used the bed to impulse himself and his fist connected dead center with the curse.

"Black Flash!"

The black spark explosion traveled through his entire arm, and the impact was devastating. The curse burst into a rain of purple blood that splattered across the mirrors, the red walls, and the bed.

The adrenaline of combat faded, leaving only the raw reality of what they had just confessed. There was no curse anymore, nothing forcing them to talk.

Yuuji climbed off the bed and walked toward Megumi, who was sitting on the floor where the pool had been.

"So…" he started, stopping half a meter away. "Did you mean it? Or was it just to get out of the trap?"

Megumi looked away, but the blush gave him away.

"You know an innate domain like that doesn't work with lies."

"I know." Yuuji knelt in front of him, putting himself at his eye level. "I just wanted to hear you say it again."

"I'm not going to…"

"Megumi."

Megumi looked up. Yuuji held out his hand.

Megumi took it and Yuuji pulled him to his feet, but instead of letting go once he was standing, he drew him closer.

His chest pressed against Megumi's. Their breaths mingling. Yuuji could see every detail of his face: the long lashes, the sharp line of his jaw, the way his pupils had dilated until they'd nearly swallowed the blue.

"Megumi," he repeated, and his name felt like a confession and a plea at the same time.

"If you're going to say something stupid, save i…"

He didn't let him finish.

He grabbed the back of his neck with his free hand, his fingers tangling in his dark hair, and kissed him.

It was a messy, clumsy collision. Yuuji kissed him with everything he had, holding nothing back.

Megumi froze for an instant. Yuuji felt his entire body tense as he tried to process what was happening.

Then he let out a trembling sigh against his mouth and responded with equal intensity. He parted his lips, letting him in. A low, desperate sound vibrated in his throat, and Yuuji pressed him tighter against himself, as if afraid he'd vanish if he let go.

They kissed like the world was going to end tomorrow.

And in their case, maybe it was.

When they pulled apart for air, Yuuji rested his forehead against his.

"Let's get out of here," Megumi murmured.

They laced their fingers together and walked toward the exit. Carrying a truth that, at last, no longer weighed.

When they reached the street, the cold February air hit them full-on, but instead of cooling the temperature between them, it seemed to intensify it. Megumi's hand was still intertwined with his, and neither of them made any move to let go.

Yuuji could hear the murmur of Dotonbori in the distance: music, voices. The night smelled of oil, of river, of a living city.

They walked in silence for half a minute, their breaths creating small clouds of vapor. Yuuji could feel the residual adrenaline from the fight mixing with something that sped up his pulse every time he felt Megumi's fingers tighten around his.

He stopped in the middle of the street.

"Hey, Fushiguro."

"What?"

He didn't answer with words. He took a step toward him, invading his personal space, and slid a hand to his hip, lowering it slowly, caressing.

"We could go back to the love hotel," Yuuji suggested, and his own voice came out husky in a way that surprised him. "There's no curse anymore. The rooms are still there. We could…"

He watched Megumi process the words. Watched the exact moment he understood what was being suggested. His expression went from surprise to disbelief to something that could only be described as disgust.

Smack.

The fourth of the night, and definitely the hardest.

"Ow! What did I do now?"

"You're disgusting," Megumi said, grabbing him by the wrist and dragging him away. His grip was firm, almost painful, and he walked with long, decisive strides. "There? Seriously? With blood splattered on the walls and the stench of dead curse?"

"But the ambiance was already set!" Yuuji protested, stumbling behind him.

"Shut up and walk."

"Hey," he said, "the subway station is the other way. If we're going back to the hotel we're staying at…"

"We're not going there." Megumi didn't slow down. "Gojo's room is right next to ours. If we do anything, he'll hear us. And if he hears us, he'll never let it go."

"Wait. Are you saying…?"

"I don't want anyone interrupting us," Megumi said, and although his voice maintained that flat, practical tone, Yuuji could see that the tips of his ears were red.

He looked around. They were in the love hotel district. The entire street was a parade of neon signs. Discreet facades with lit entrances and machines that dispensed keys without needing to talk to anyone.

Megumi stopped in front of one.

"Fushiguro? Seriously?"

No answer. He walked into the empty lobby, approached the machine at the entrance, and paid with quick, precise movements, as if executing a cursed technique.

"Wait, is that a condom vending machine?" Yuuji asked, looking around in amazement.

Megumi ignored him, grabbed the keycard the machine spat out, and dragged Yuuji toward the elevator.

Only when the metal doors closed, sealing them off from the world, did Megumi release the breath he'd been holding.

The elevator stopped on the third floor.

They hurried out. Megumi found door 304 and swiped the card.

The moment they were inside, Yuuji threw himself at him.

He pushed him against the door, trapping him with his body, and kissed him with a desperation that surprised even himself. His hands were everywhere: on his waist, on his back, pulling at his uniform. Megumi responded with equal ferocity. His hands went straight to Yuuji's hair, pulling hard.

They stumbled further inside, tripping over shoes they kicked off, crashing into the corner of the TV stand, and fell onto the bed.

Yuuji straddled Megumi and brought his hands to the first button of his jacket. His fingers were trembling. The button was too stiff.

"Who designed these buttons?" he muttered.

"They're just buttons, Itadori. Not a padlock."

Megumi rolled his eyes. He swatted Yuuji's hands away with an impatient gesture and unbuttoned his own jacket with efficiency. He did the same with his white shirt.

Yuuji simply stared at him like an idiot.

The dim light of the room traced his shoulders; broader than they looked under the uniform, his taut abs, the firm curve of his arms. All of it took his breath away.

"Stop staring and take off your clothes."

Yuuji brought his hands to his own uniform. But before he could remove anything, Megumi's hands were already there, pushing his aside without a word, undoing the buttons while Yuuji felt himself melting from the inside.

The first layer fell, and right after, Yuuji pulled off his hoodie, left completely exposed to the cold air of the room. He leaned in and reclaimed Megumi's mouth.

He slid his hands downward, reaching for the waistband of Megumi's pants.

And then the world flipped.

Megumi's leg hooked around his hip and turned him over. A second later, Yuuji was on his back against the sheets, with Megumi's weight on top of him.

Megumi's hands pinned his on either side of his head, against the mattress. His blue eyes burned from above.

"Let me."

Yuuji looked up at him, pulse racing, lips parted. Something hot ran down his spine. He wanted to move, to do something. But Megumi's eyes had him pinned to the mattress more effectively than his hands.

Megumi kissed him, but it was different this time. Slower and deeper than before. Savoring every sigh that escaped his mouth, tasting every corner of it. And Yuuji responded with equal intensity. He couldn't breathe and there was saliva running from the corner of his mouth. They were a mess.

He released his mouth to move lower.

His lips traced Yuuji's jaw, kissing and licking. Sucking on his neck and biting. His teeth sank into places that had never been explored that way.

Yuuji moaned, surprising himself with the loud, needy sound that came out of his mouth.

"Shit, Megumi…"

He went even lower with wet kisses followed by slow, deliberate suction that left a trail of heat and probably marks on his skin.

He took his time; first he'd find a spot, test it with his lips, and if Yuuji reacted, he'd come back to lick and bite. He'd suck until the blood rose to the surface and Yuuji writhed beneath him.

Then he moved down to his chest.

His mouth found one of Yuuji's nipples and licked, soft at first, almost experimental; the tip of his tongue traced a slow circle. The pleasure building inside him was torturous.

"Fushi… ah…"

And then he bit.

Yuuji arched off the mattress as if electricity had shot through his spine. His hands gripped Megumi's hair, not knowing if he wanted to push him away or pull him closer. Another sharp, broken sound tore from his throat, and the blush climbed from his chest to his face like a wave of lava.

"I didn't… I didn't know that I…" he panted, but the sentence dissolved in his mouth.

"So sensitive," Megumi murmured against his skin, and there was a note of satisfaction in his voice that made Yuuji want to die of embarrassment.

Then he moved to the other nipple. Licked and bit the same way. His hands held Yuuji's waist, keeping him in place.

"Megumi…" his voice came out wrecked and needy. "Stop, no… don't stop, I…"

Nothing he was asking for made sense. The words didn't make sense. Nothing made sense except his mouth, which had left his nipples reddened and hypersensitive, and was now traveling down his abdomen, tracing the line of every muscle with his tongue, biting and kissing every centimeter with a slowness that was pure torture.

Yuuji was a wreck. His eyes were glassy, and his mouth hung open. His hips moved on their own, seeking friction, anything, whatever. And every time Megumi looked up at him from above, he felt his brain melt a little more.

Megumi's hands finally reached his pants. He unfastened them, and Yuuji raised his hips to help. His underwear came off too, in a single motion.

He was completely naked and exposed. Instinctively, he lowered a hand to cover himself.

Megumi paused to look at him with disbelief, then let out a soft, short laugh.

"Really?" he said, and the tone was so unexpectedly warm that Yuuji wanted the bed to swallow him whole.

"Don't laugh."

He moved Yuuji's hand away gently. Held it for a moment, lacing their fingers together, then guided it back to the pillow.

Yuuji swallowed and left his hand where Megumi had placed it.

Then Megumi parted his legs carefully and leaned toward his thighs. He bit the inner side, where the skin was thin and sensitive, alternating bites with wet kisses and slow suction that made Yuuji grip the sheets so hard that if he wasn't careful, he might tear the fabric. He moved up, down, and repeated.

"Megumi… if you keep going I'm going to…" His voice came out broken and unrecognizable.

"Shh."

Megumi's breath against his thigh stole every coherent thought.

And then his mouth moved higher.

Yuuji felt the first kiss, soft, almost shy, and his entire body went taut.

"Megumi, you don't have to…"

He didn’t reply. Instead, he licked. Something tentative, with clumsiness. His tongue traced a slow line along his entire length, so exquisitely that it made him see stars.

"Ah… ohh, fuck…"

Yuuji's hands went down but stopped midway, hovering uselessly above Megumi's head without daring to touch. He didn't want to do anything that might interrupt whatever was happening.

Megumi took his cock into his mouth.

The heat was obscene and wet. It was too much, and Yuuji felt like he was going to come right then and there.

He was shallow at first, just testing. And Yuuji could feel the hesitation in him, the way he adjusted the angle, his tongue moving against him, the suction. He had no technique and no rhythm. It was obvious he had no idea what he was doing.

And it was also the best thing Yuuji had ever felt in his life.

"Megumi…" his voice came out broken and choked, like a prayer. "Megumi, Megumi…"

Just his name, over and over, because it was the only thing his brain could produce.

Megumi found something that worked: a combination of soft suction and slow movement with his hand, and he repeated it over and over until Yuuji squirmed against the mattress, thighs trembling and toes curling. Until finally his hands surrendered to gravity and landed in Megumi's hair.

Megumi made a low sound in his throat, something between concentration and satisfaction. And the vibration traveled through Yuuji's entire body.

"Stop…" Yuuji gasped, pulling gently at his hair. "Stop, stop, Megumi, if you keep going I'm… I won't last…"

Megumi pulled off slowly. His lips were wet and swollen. And when he looked up, Yuuji could see his eyes were completely dilated.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

The gesture was so simple and so devastating that Yuuji felt tears fill his eyes for no apparent reason.

"Was it good?" Megumi asked, and the question came out a little hoarse, a little unsure, so far from his usual coldness that Yuuji wanted to laugh and cry at the same time.

"You're seriously asking me that?"

He was trembling. Every inch of his skin was on fire, and he didn't know what to do.

Megumi sat up to take off his pants and underwear with movements that tried to be efficient but couldn't quite manage it because his hands were shaking. When he was naked in front of him, Yuuji felt his throat close.

"Are you okay?" Megumi asked. He must have seen something in his expression, because his face went from intense to concerned in a second.

"Yeah," Yuuji said in a thread of a voice. "It's just… it's my first time. I'm… processing that this is actually happening."

Something softened in Megumi's expression.

"It's my first time too."

Megumi reached for the nightstand, where there was a small basket with condoms and lube packets. He grabbed a condom and tried to tear the wrapper.

Yuuji watched him struggle with the plastic for a few seconds that were simultaneously the most endearing and the most uncomfortable of his life. Fushiguro Megumi, the user of the Ten Shadows, the guy who formed hand signs with millimetric precision, was fighting a condom like it was a special-grade curse.

"Need help?" Yuuji asked, with a smile he couldn't contain.

"Shut up."

"Seriously, let me help."

"I've got it."

He tried to put it on, but couldn't unroll it because he'd placed it backwards. He pulled it off, stared at it with a frown. Yuuji bit his lip to keep from laughing, but must have failed spectacularly because Megumi shot him a death glare.

"Let me, Mister Ten Shadows," Yuuji said, sitting up.

He took the condom from his hands gently. Looked at it for a second, turning it to find the right side, then looked Megumi in the eyes.

"Trust me."

And leaned down.

"What are you doing?" Megumi's voice came out strangled.

Yuuji didn't answer. He brought the condom to his lips, positioned it with his teeth, and went down.

He'd seen it on the web just once, but it had been seared into his brain. He couldn't believe he was actually doing it.

He positioned the condom and parted his lips. He unrolled it carefully, using his tongue to guide the latex downward. He went down until he felt Megumi's cock hit the back of his throat and tried to suppress a gag with limited success. Yuuji could feel everything: the heat, the texture of the latex against his tongue, the tremor that ran through Megumi's entire body.

"Yuuji… ahh… no…" he said between moans.

Yuuji went a little deeper, working with his fingers to unroll what was left of the condom. He didn't know if he was doing it right because he had no point of comparison. But Megumi's fingers digging into his scalp, the breathing that had gone irregular and loud, the way his hips fought not to thrust forward, all of it told him that, at the very least, he wasn't doing it wrong.

He finished and sat up slowly, wiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb.

Megumi was staring at him as if his brain had been destroyed. His lips were parted, and his cheeks were flushed.

"Where…" he started, and had to clear his throat because his voice came out hoarse, "where the fuck did you learn that?"

Yuuji shrugged, with a smile that tried for casual and was probably ridiculous.

"The internet. Did it work?"

"You almost killed me."

Yuuji smiled so wide it hurt his face.

"Good."

Once Megumi had recovered, he took the lube. This time, his hands didn't tremble as much when opening the packet.

"Lie back," he ordered, and Yuuji obeyed; he lay down again with the smile still on his face.

Megumi closed his hands around his hips and lifted his ass.

It was a simple, practical movement, but for Yuuji, it felt like his last piece of armor being stripped away. Megumi let go of a hand and slid a pillow underneath him with efficiency. The angle left Yuuji completely open and totally exposed. He tried to close his legs by pure instinct.

Megumi stopped him with a hand on his knee. Looked at him intently. And that damn soft laugh appeared again, only in his eyes and at the corner of his mouth.

"Don't…" Yuuji started.

"Relax," Megumi said, and the gentleness in his voice contrasted with the heat burning in his cheeks. "Trust me."

Yuuji let out a breath and let his legs relax. He closed his eyes.

"It's going to be cold," Megumi warned.

"That's fi… Hnnngh!"

He flinched when Megumi's fingers touched him.

"Told you."

"I wasn't expecting it to be that cold!" he complained, but the complaint died in a long, trembling sigh when Megumi inserted a finger and began working carefully. "Fuck, Megumi… your hands"

Megumi focused completely. He had his brows furrowed in that expression of absolute concentration he wore when summoning his shikigami. Attentive to every sound, every tension in his muscles.

He was methodical and patient.

And Yuuji was melting.

"Does it hurt?" Megumi asked quietly when he added a second finger and felt Yuuji tense.

"No… it's just… weird. It feels full, but good."

"You sure?"

"Megumi… I trust you."

He withdrew his fingers, and at the loss, an involuntary sound escaped Yuuji's throat. Megumi settled between his legs, placed his hands on either side of him, and found his eyes.

"Look at me," he ordered softly.

Yuuji obeyed. Their eyes met.

Megumi used one hand to position himself at his entrance.

And pushed.

Yuuji felt his asshole stretching to accommodate him. The burn was too much. He couldn't.

"Stop!" he gasped. "Stop, stop, stop."

Megumi froze instantly. He went completely still, every muscle in his body straining, trying not to move.

"Should we stop?"

"No, no. Just… give me a second" He was breathing through his mouth, eyes squeezed shut. It really hurt. "Fuck."

Megumi rested his forehead against his. He waited. His breathing was irregular too, restrained, and the trembling in his arms betrayed how much it cost him to stay still. But he didn't move.

"Breathe," he murmured.

Yuuji tried to breathe. The air came in halfway, cut short by the tension locking up his entire body.

"Okay," he said after a moment. "Okay. Again."

Megumi pushed a little further.

Yuuji moaned.

"Ahhh… no… wait."

He stopped again. Looked at him with a mixture of concern and something that looked dangerously close to amusement.

"Seriously?" he said. "I've seen you take hits that can send you flying, and you get up laughing after. And this is what you can't take?"

"It's different!" Yuuji protested, and the indignant tone was almost comical given the position he was in. "That's combat pain! This is…! This is something else!"

"It's pain," Megumi said, and his voice dropped to that practical, calm tone he used when analyzing a situation mid-fight. "And you're tense. If you don't relax, it's going to keep hurting."

"I can't relax if you tell me to relax!"

"Then think about something else."

"Like what?!"

"I don't know, Itadori. Takoyaki. Think about takoyaki."

Yuuji burst out laughing. It was absurd and uncontrolled, and the movement of his body as he laughed made Megumi slide a little further inside him. The sound that came out was half laugh, half moan, and they both went still for a second, processing it.

"That… kind of worked," Yuuji admitted, blinking.

"Look at me. Don't look away. Look at me."

He pushed, slow and steady.

Yuuji bit his lip. It still hurt, but with Megumi's eyes holding him, the pain was manageable.

"There," Megumi said, and stopped. "It's all the way in."

Yuuji breathed deeply. The burn was still there, but beneath it, he felt full in a way he'd never imagined.

"Does it hurt?" he asked.

"A little." Yuuji swallowed.

Megumi didn't move.

"Listen," he said seriously. "If it's too much, we can switch. I wouldn't mind. Really."

"No." His voice came out firmer than he expected, given the position he was in. "I don't want to switch."

"Yuuji."

"I want this." He caressed his cheek, running his thumb over the cheekbone. "I want you to fuck me. Every way possible, without holding back. I want to feel it tomorrow and know it was real."

Megumi stared at him, and his pupils dilated. Something in his expression seemed to fracture.

"Move, Megumi."

He started moving.

The initial awkwardness was inevitable; everything was angles that didn't work, rhythms that didn't match, elbows that collided. At some point, the mattress started creaking in such an absurd way that Yuuji laughed, and the laughter turned to moans halfway through.

But gradually, they synchronized.

Megumi found the right angle and exploited it without mercy until Yuuji became a needy mess and the room filled with wet sounds. He wrapped his legs around his waist, pulling him deeper.

"There… ahhhh…" he moaned. "There… don't stop…"

The thrusts took on a steady, deep rhythm, erasing a little more of the outside world with each stroke. Everything faded under the weight of this: of feeling Megumi moving inside him, the sounds falling from his lips, the way he held him like he was the most important thing in the world.

Then Megumi stopped.

Yuuji opened his eyes, slightly disoriented. A whine of protest escaped him before he could contain it.

"Turn over," Megumi said.

It was a direct order, delivered with the same calm authority he used to tell his shikigami where to attack.

Yuuji looked up at him, mouth hanging open.

"What?"

"On all fours. Turn over."

Something in Yuuji's brain short-circuited. Part of him wanted to argue, to say something. Anything.

But Megumi's firm voice, absolutely sure of itself, deactivated every impulse of resistance as if flipping a switch.

He turned over.

He braced himself on his hands and knees, feeling heat climb up the back of his neck, aware of how exposed he was, how vulnerable this position was, that he had never in his life felt as naked as he did in that moment.

Megumi's hands gripped his hips hard, adjusting the angle and taking a second to align everything. And then he leaned over his back. His lips brushed his ear.

"Good boy," he whispered.

Yuuji melted.

His entire body reacted as if those two words had gone straight to his nervous system. His arms buckled, and a choked sound he didn't recognize as his own escaped him. An absurd and warmth flooded his chest.

What the hell…?

Megumi pushed inside him, and the thought evaporated.

The angle was different. Deeper. And Megumi was no longer holding back. He drove into him with enough force to knock the air from his lungs with every thrust. Yuuji dropped to his elbows, putting his head against the mattress, trying to process the amount of sensation flooding his body. It was too much, it was perfect, it was too much.

"Megu… ahh… Megumi"

Megumi moved with determination. One hand on his hip, the other stroking Yuuji’s cock. The incredible thing was that every thrust drew a different sound from him.

"You're doing so well, Yuuji."

Yuuji moaned. A long, embarrassing sound that came out needier than he would have liked. And his arms gave out. His chest collapsed against the mattress, cheek mashed into the sheets, back arched, completely surrendered.

Oh no, he thought with the part of his brain that still functioned. Oh no, oh no, oh no.

Because if a few words of approval in Megumi's voice could turn him into a trembling wreck incapable of holding himself up on his own arms, then he had a problem. A massive problem he was going to have to process some other time, when Megumi wasn't moving inside him with that steady, relentless rhythm that was erasing even his name.

"Perfect," Megumi said, leaning over his back, lips brushing the nape of his neck. "Just like that."

Yuuji buried his face in the sheets, and the only thing he could do was endure it and moan.

The thrusts grew deeper and more urgent. Megumi gripped his hips. Every point of contact was a total conflagration. Pleasure surged in waves that tightened his abdomen, made his thighs shake, stole his air.

"Megumi… Megumi, I'm going to… ahh…" He couldn't finish the sentence. His body tensed.

The climax hit them almost at the same time.

Yuuji came against the sheets. Megumi followed seconds later, clinging to his waist, trembling, breathing heavily against the back of his neck.

They stayed like that for a long time.

Collapsed on top of each other, shaking, too spent to move. The only sound in the room was the hum of the air conditioning and their breathing trying to calm down.

Eventually, Megumi found the strength to move, sliding out and turning onto his side. Yuuji helped him remove the condom, then let himself fall onto Megumi's chest, hooking an arm around his waist and pulling him close.

Megumi slipped an arm beneath his neck and drew him closer.

"That…" Yuuji started, his voice hoarse, "…was really good."

"Definitely," Megumi agreed, kissing his sweaty forehead.

After a while, Yuuji lifted his head and looked at him with sleepy eyes.

"Hey, Megumi."

"Mm?"

"Happy Valentine's Day."

"Happy Valentine's Day, Yuuji."

The silence was filled with a peace Yuuji hadn't felt in months. Maybe in years. Maybe ever.

Then his stomach growled.

Obscenely loud. As if a Grade 1 curse were living in his intestines.

Megumi opened his eyes and looked at him with the flattest expression Yuuji had ever seen on his face.

"Seriously."

"I can't control my stomach!" he defended himself, but was already laughing. "Black Flash burns a lot of calories, you know? And the… the other activity does too."

Megumi dragged a hand down his face, but Yuuji saw the smile he was trying to hide.

"We can go get something to eat before heading back. Takoyaki or ramen, whatever you want. My treat," Yuuji said.

"You don't have money."

"I have the mission budget Ijichi gave us."

"That's for operational expenses, not dates."

"Technically, eating after a successful mission is an operational expense."

Megumi looked at him for a long second, then sighed, sat up on the bed, and started looking for his clothes among the mess of uniforms scattered across the floor.

"Takoyaki," he said. "But I'm buying the ramen in Tokyo."

Yuuji smiled so wide it hurt his cheeks.

"Deal!"

They got dressed between stumbles, brushing against each other more than necessary, sharing clumsy kisses between misaligned buttons and stuck zippers. When they were more or less presentable, Megumi looked in the mirror, assessed the disaster of his hair, and decided it was a lost cause.

"You look like someone who just…" Yuuji started.

"Finish that sentence and you're sleeping on the street."

"I was going to say you look like someone who just fought a curse! What did you think I was going to say?"

Megumi shot him a glare, but Yuuji planted a quick kiss on his lips before he could respond.

They stepped out into the Osaka night. Dotonbori greeted them with its usual chaos: the illuminated canal, the giant signs, the smell of street food that made their stomachs growl again.

They walked among the crowd, shoulder to shoulder. Their pinkies hooked together discreetly.

They bought their takoyaki and sat on the edge of the canal, feet dangling, the dark water reflecting neon beneath them. Megumi ate in silence, his uniform collar pulled up to his jaw, and Yuuji burned his tongue three times in a row because he couldn't stop staring at him.

Yuuji wanted to kiss him senseless right there, on the edge of the canal, in front of all of Dotonbori.

He didn't. But he leaned to the side until their shoulders touched.

"Megumi."

"Mm?"

"That ramen you owe me in Tokyo. Can it be in your room?"

Megumi stopped chewing and glanced at him sideways. The blush crept up his ears again, but the corner of his mouth curved.

"Depends," he said. "Are you going to be as loud as today?"

Yuuji choked on his takoyaki.

"Megumi!"

He didn't know how many nights like this he had left. But he was going to fight for every single one of them.

With everything. Holding nothing back.