Work Text:
Something thick coats Megumi’s throat with every breath as he steps out of the vehicle and shuts the door behind him. Ijichi drives away and it feels quicker than usual, leaving him completely alone on the desolate farm. It was a mission Gojo had chosen for him, one he said would be no problem.
‘Megumi? Oh! He can handle it!’
So, here he is, staring at miles and miles of dried out fields having not been tended to for what look like months. The listing said it was a small family, their child’s teacher reporting the boy missing after he had failed to show for over a week of class. This is an area that first-year sorcerers aren’t normally dispatched to but given that Gojo gave his approval, he must feel like Megumi has some sort of knowledge on this curse that others don’t.
It’s night; the stars are nearly blinding in this area so far from the city, so far from civilization and the nearest house being several miles down the road. He doesn’t cast a veil, not feeling the need to when there’s no one else around. He can’t decide if that’s comforting or unsettling as he walks the unkept dirty path toward the wood porch.
Crickets chirp from the trees that surround the property like small children screaming in the distance, wind wurring through the leaves, making the hair on his neck stand on end under the collar of his uniform. The lack of streetlight makes the farm pitch black aside from the moon and stars, a white cast set upon the creaking, dilapidated house. Has it only been a week that this child has been missing? The state of everything around him has it feeling like weeks, maybe months.
He brings his divine dogs out, letting them sniff around the property and lead him in the right direction instead of aimlessly wandering around in the dark. It also makes him feel a bit better having two more companions by his side. It doesn’t take them long to lead him to the front door, a sinking dread filling his stomach as he walks up the two steps. He raises his two fists, tenses his muscles and holds his breath as he pushes the already cracked door open with his foot.
The dogs are on edge as they step inside before him, noses to the ground, fur on their backs and tails taught. They growl low and steady as they step over shards of broken glass and porcelain dishes, broken furniture strewn about the entryway and into the rest of the house. The electricity doesn’t work and the scent inside is enough to make a grown veteran keel-over. There are dark blood spatters on the walls and cabinets leading up the stairs onto the second floor.
As they approach the staircase, Megumi finds the blood has been dried—dried for a long, long while. He looks to the dogs who shuffle on their four paws, antsy to get up the steps and to the curse awaiting them. The scent grows stronger the further up they go, a loud creaking of floorboards is heard from the end of the hallway from the top of the steps, accompanied by a wet, unsettling squelching.
The dark hall is in just as much disarray as the one below it—a bed frame pulled from a room and ripped to pieces as feathers lay about from a shredded pillow, all covered in blood and a mucus like substance.
The dogs are hunched as they make it to the door, avoiding any danger along the way. Everything surrounding Megumi looks like it’s been abandoned for years, a thick layer of dust sitting on top. Is this the curses domain?
Megumi reaches for the doorknob and the dogs growling grows more frantic. Suddenly they hear a cry from behind the wood that stops him in his tracks—his thoughts going blank. The young boy. He’s still alive. From the state of the property, the amount of blood and chaos, he would have never suspected another living soul.
Both dogs push forward through the door, Megumi trailing close behind, his stance ready.
There it stands, an amalgamation of deep purple faces frozen in sheer agony. The room is just the same as the rest of the house—all of the furniture smashed to bits, covered in dust and dried bodily secretions. The wind whips through the ripped curtains through the shattered glass and the goosebumps rise again. The curses two thin limbs are stretched out at odd angles and what hangs from it’s abnormally strong grasp is a small boy; dusty pink haired with pale skin like the life has been sucked from him, dangling and flailing from a single ankle. His blue shorts and striped t-shirt have ridden up, exposing his paper-thin skin, covered in bruises of every shade.
He’s unconscious, breathing but just barely as the curse shakes him vigorously. How long has he been hanging like that? Shoeless, freezing, turning purple? The curse leaching the life from him second by second. Megumi makes a quick scan of the room and sees, who he thinks are the boys parents—their bodies—laying lifeless on top of each other in the corner. They’re emaciated and frail.
He can’t let this poor kid be next.
“Hey!” Megumi shouts into the room. The boy doesn’t flinch but the curses head slowly turns toward him and his dogs.
He can tell it’s a really lowly curse, it shouldn’t take long or much of his strength at all but against regular civilians like these—they didn’t stand a chance. It must have been watching them from the surrounding forest, creeping up slowly from the darkness.
His dogs lurch forward, jumping for the outstretched arm, it’s jaw locking around the curses wrist causing it to release the boy as it yells out in pain, matching the faces sprawled across it’s body. Megumi steps up with a kick to the curses abdomen, sending it flying backward into the crumbling wall. It groans pathetically, falling to the floor as his dogs begin ripping the curse to pieces.
It’s screams grow quieter as Megumi scoops the boy up in his arms, he’s light—too light for what his age should portray. The curse having bled him almost completely dry. He carries him down the stairs, careful of debris and out into the front yard where the sky has started to turn a shade of dark blue from the sun beginning to rise in the far distance.
He checks him over for wounds, lifting and shifting the boys weight, clothes and body, going over scrapes, bumps and bruises to catalogue for Shoko when they return. He’s not too bad, despite the circumstances that Megumi had found him in—she should be able to fix him up.
The poor boy, laying there nearly lifeless, chest rising and falling almost imperceptibly. His entire family wiped out and what’s left? It’s Megumi’s responsibility now—he found him—he has to care for him just as Gojo had found him all those years ago. Is that why he had sent him on this specific mission? Because they’re one in the same?
What a bastard.
Regardless, Megumi isn’t a quitter and he surely isn’t going to abandon a child—not like he had been. The boy isn’t a sorcerer but he will do his best to watch over him, to protect him just like he had tonight, he’s proven to himself he’s already capable of it.
His dogs return to his side, their faces bloodied; red and purple sinew. The boy stirs in the grass and Megumi feels the pull to hold him, lifting him back into his arms. He curls his small face into Megumi’s chest, searching for warmth and something starts to sit heavy, deep in Megumi’s stomach—a fluttering, a curling coil.
˚₊‧꒰ა Ⰶ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
Shoko did her best work treating the kid, as she does. His bruising has subsided, his cuts have healed as he lays in a fresh set of shorts and a white t-shirt, peacefully snoozing in Megumi’s single dorm bed. His room is the only one occupied in the entire corridor and he’d never admit that it’s been quite lonely—Gojo having moved to the teachers quarters a long time ago.
He sits there at the edge of the bed, watching the young boy sleep, the rise and fall of his chest as he had in the front lawn of the kids’ house just a short couple of days ago, but now that breathing is much stronger.
Itadori Yuuji.
He found the child’s name in his file thanks to Gojo—Yuuji.
He’s only five years old and the poor thing has already lived through worse than most of the population.
The boy turns over, his face in rest with round cheeks and soft brows. It's angelic, almost as if he was never touched by the filth of that Curse, a child-like purity. Megumi feels the instinctive urge to touch—to run his calloused, thin knuckles over the boys peach-fuzzed skin.
“Mmm—” Yuuji mumbles, opening his eyes in a lazy blink. He looks up at Megumi confused, still in a sleepy haze. “Mommy?”
Megumi isn't sure if he should be completely honest with the boy. He doesn't want to scare him in the first moment they interact but lying doesn't seem correct either. He just doesn't want Yuuji to withdraw.
“Yuuji?” Megumi tries to soften his tone, having been told how harsh he usually sounds.
Those golden eyes, wide and sparkling lock onto him with intensity as if surprised that the man knows his name.
“You're in a safe place here—with me.” Megumi continues.
“W—with you?” Yuuji asks, still groggy.
“Yes. Me.” He points to his own chest. “Megumi.”
“Megmi.” Yuuji tries, he really does. His small eyebrows drawing together in concentration as he tries again. “Memi!”
“Me-Gu-Mi.” He tries to sound it out for the boy.
“Mi-Gu-Mi… Gumi.” Yuuji looks up excited. “Gumi!” Obviously having settled on a name.
He gives up on trying to correct the kid and moves back to their previous conversation. “Yes, Yuuji. Do you remember me? When I came to save you?”
Yuuji nods slowly.
“Your—your family is gone. I'm sorry.” He tries his best to be sincere to the child, his hands moving out tentatively but unsure of if he should reach out and offer himself to the boy for comfort. Would it be comforting coming from a near stranger?
“Gone…?” Yuuji asks, slow and confused. There's a solemn tone to it as if he knows the weight in which Megumi speaks.
“Gone. You'll stay here—with me.” He clarifies.
Instead of responding, Yuuji shimmies himself up from the bed and and begins to crawl toward Megumi. He extends an arm for the boy, not able to resist him or the need to touch and comfort him like he'd wanted to earlier. Happy that Yuuji feels settled enough to come to him.
He falls head-first into Megumi's wide chest. Cheek laying flat against it with his arms tucked between them, scooting upward until Megumi can feel the boys cold nose begin to nuzzle against his neck. Megumi's thoughts start to wander—places he hasn't gone before as he feels Yuuji shift on his lap, his plump thighs doing their best to circle around his square waist.
He wants to squeeze them, to feel their flesh between his fingers. The thought of Yuuji's mouth on his skin sparks an image in his mind with how close it is to his neck—small, warm lips, pink and untouched.
Megumi runs a hand through Yuuji's washed hair and the boy snuggles in further, pressing their bodies as close together as possible. He feels the need to clear his throat as his breath catches like a nervous teen.
“Hmm—Gumi?” Yuuji mumbles.
The boy wants comfort. Megumi can feel it in his motions, the way he sinks into him, the way his small hands claw at his shirt.
“I don wanna go back to the scary house.” Yuuji says suddenly.
It's silent for a moment. “You won't.” Megumi confirms. “You never have to go back.”
Megumi begins to rub down the boy's neck, extending down to his back in soothing motions. He can't help but sink lower and lower and Yuuji doesn't move, he doesn't even squirm as Megumi's large hands trace over his small, round bottom, toying softly with the flesh over his pajamas. He can feel Yuuji's breathing begin to slow as his own starts to pick up.
Yuuji makes a small, quiet, contented whine into Megumi's neck when a sudden set of footsteps are heard outside of the door.
Megumi stands quickly, not setting Yuuji down, just shifting him to a hip as a knock sounds. He re-adjusts himself in his sweats with the palm of his hand before making their way over.
He pulls the door open and feels Yuuji's immediate recoil. The boy presses himself close, hiding his face.
“Shh—S’alright.” Megumi comforts with the hand on Yuuji's back.
Gojo stands tall in the doorway, a smirk across his un-blindfolded face. “Hey! Looks like our little buddy is finally awake. What's up kid?”
“Gojo—” Megumi warns, taking a careful step back and Yuuji let's out an upset whine as he takes a small peak at the white-haired invader.
“Shy, are you? Well, uncle Gojo'll take good care of you. Look how Megumi turned out!” Gojo tries taking a step forward and Yuuji is displeased, letting out a cry.
“He's nervous, Gojo. Just give him some time.” Megumi tries his best to placate the both of them.
“Alright, alright. I just wanted to check on you two but it looks like you've got it handled.” He takes a step back out into the hallway, turning away from the door. “Don't forget to feed it!” He shouts over his shoulder as he makes his way out of the corridor.
“Yeah, got it.” Megumi mumbles.
He takes a deep breath, shutting the door. He can feel Yuuji relax against him, his body releasing the tense hold on his small muscles.
Megumi leans the boy back so that they're looking eye-to-eye. “That was my dad.”
“Dad?” Yuuji asks, his head tilting to one side. Their faces are so close, their noses are nearly touching.
Megumi nods. His eyes flicking to Yuuji's lips, seeing they are red and bitten, small bits of flesh torn free and bloody. It must be a nervous habit. He wants nothing more than to soothe them—to kiss them better as Yuuji looks on innocently, almost like an imprinting duckling.
It’s gotten late now and Megumi decides it is best to feed the kid. He makes the decision to leave Yuuji in the room with his divine dogs. He sets Yuuji back down onto the bed, summoning the dogs and placing them on guard. Yuuji gives him those pleading, large eyes, his hands wringing nervously in the hem of his own t-shirt.
“It’ll be alright. They’ll take good care of you and I’ll only be a couple of minutes.” He waves his hand in the air to dismiss Yuuji and slides his shoes and jacket on before heading out the door. He doesn’t want to stick around over the mere fact that Yuuji could likely convince him to stay or worse—he would take the boy with him.
It doesn’t take him long, running to the corner store that he’s frequented his entire life and making it back in under ten minutes. When he returns, he finds Yuuji snuggled up securely on the bed with the dogs who lift their head at Megumi’s presence. The boy is nestled with his head on the belly of one, his feet propped up on the back of another, completely and utterly lax as they stare ahead at the television, thumb in mouth.
“Comfortable?” Megumi speaks into the room, more to the dogs who are supposed to be working than to Yuuji who is allowed to lounge as he pleases.
The boy turns his head at the sound of Megumi’s baritone, he crawls to his feet and begins to jump excitedly on the bed.
“Be careful.”
Yuuji slides down and runs over to see what Megumi has inside of the bags, peering inside as he sets them down on the low table.
“Hey, hey, sit down.” Megumi motions and Yuuji takes a seat, kicking his dangling feet.
He boils the noodles on the stove, letting it cool in a bowl when it’s finished and bringing it over to Yuuji with utensils and a napkin. He ruffles the boys hair softly before preparing his own and taking a seat.
“There.”
Yuuji starts to dig in, shoveling as much of the soup into his mouth at once and Megumi begins to wonder when the last time the boy had eaten was. Days? A week? Surely not more than that.
He rests a possessive hand on the back of the boys warm neck, listening to the slurping sounds and the TV playing softly in the background. Yuuji must have turned it on while Megumi was gone—he doesn’t recall seeing one in the abandoned house but he didn’t pay that close of attention to every scattered piece of junk.
He continues to eat even as Yuuji has finished his, the boy watching him carefully.
They clean up together, Yuuji muscling his way off of the chair and picking up their bowls before Megumi can even stand. He takes them both to the sink, wobbling back and forth as he balances them in his small fists. He slides them up onto the counter, reaching up onto his tip-toes and over the edge as they clatter into the basin. Yuuji begins to turn, his eyes scanning across the small room.
“Step?” He asks, looking up at Megumi.
The child is looking for a step-stool. He must have helped his mother with the dishes at home. Megumi doesn’t have a step-stool. He could offer the boy a chair but the with how low the table is, he doesn’t think the chair would even lift him enough to reach inside of the sink like Yuuji so obviously wants. Instead, Megumi offers his own thigh. Reaching a hand out, he positions his knee against the cabinet, pulling Yuuji up in one swift motion, his small, plump thigh swinging over Megumi’s large leg. He straddles it the best he can, balancing with Megumi’s hands around his waist, the chub of his stomach pressed against the counter as he leans over to wash the dishes.
The boy wriggles back and forth, shaking himself as he scrubs. It doesn’t take long for Megumi to grow tight in his pants once more, his mind wandering—his fingertips traveling over the exposed goosebumped thighs. He can feel Yuuji’s parted lips over him, clothed or not it feels lewd and heated as Yuuji involuntarily rubs himself against Megumi as he finishes his task.
Yuuji declares he’s done and it’s like Megumi is ripped from the depths of a dream. It shakes him as he helps the boy down, wiping his hands with a small towel and shuts the water off. He shoos the dogs off of the bed, guiding Yuuji back over who, now, looks utterly exhausted once again. His eyes are half-lidded, cheeks a rosy red, sweet lips just slightly parted into a pout.
Megumi removes his pants, opting to leave his shirt on as he climbs into bed first. He pats the place next to him for Yuuji to lie down. “Come on.”
The boy fights it, much like a child does. Climbing in and laying on his back, his eyes drooping further and further, blinking wide every couple of moments as if he is going to miss something astounding. Megumi turns him onto his side, pulling Yuuji’s back to his chest, their warmth mingling under the white duvet.
He pets the boys hair, running his fingers over his neck, down his arms and sides trying to soothe him into sleep until he feels the dead-weight of Yuuji leaning into him.
It’s inherent to him—completely natural being with Yuuji. It’s a feeling he couldn’t possibly describe to another. He just knows what to do, and simply does it.
˚₊‧꒰ა Ⰶ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
Just because Megumi has a child to take care of, doesn’t mean the curses stop terrorizing the population, doesn’t mean training comes to a halt. Gojo never received special treatment, either will he and he wouldn’t ask for it.
It took an entire morning of coaxing but he eventually pulled Yuuji from the room. He had to hold his hand, dress him, feed him. But—they made it nonetheless. The boy seems nervous, of course. Nervous to meet new people, nervous that Gojo might be around, nervous that Megumi will leave him. He had to assure Yuuji that Megumi would be there the entire time.
How long had he been alone in that house that he imprinted on Megumi this quickly?
They two of them meet the others in the school courtyard. He feels Yuuji’s hand tense in his own at the presence of everyone gathered around. They all turn to stare as the two approach, foot steps loud and echoing on the surrounding buildings, the leaves crunching beneath their feet on the stone.
“Well, we’ve been waiting forever.” The roll of Nobara’s eyes and the drawl of her voice feigns annoyance. “We figured you got the princess treatment from Daddy and had the day off today with your new friend.”
Megumi looks away from her with a quiet scoff. She stands before them, crouching down to Yuuji’s eye-level to greet him. He doesn’t give her the chance, tucking himself quickly behind one of Megumi’s long legs, whimpering softly into the fabric of his dark school uniform. He holds on for dear life, tucking his face into Megumi’s thigh.
Nobara looks offended, mouth open with a shocked expression. Megumi tries his best not to look pleased but he would be lying if he said that Yuuji choosing him as his favorite didn’t feel good in some sort of twisted manor. He was the one who saved the boy after all, his good deeds aren’t going unnoticed.
“He’s just shy.” Megumi tries to give an explanation though he doesn’t think he really has to. Nobara is too busy huffing and puffing to Maki to pay attention.
He bends down to console Yuuji who crawls into his arms immediately. He’s not sure what they all will get done today if the boy is this clingy, but they’ll have to find a way to work around it. A thought pops into his mind—Yuuji has no sense of time, not really. He doesn’t really know that at the end of the day—Megumi and Yuuji will always end up together and now is the perfect opportunity for Megumi to use this to his advantage.
“Yuuji?”
Those large eyes look up at him with curiosity, excited to be addressed.
“I have to work today, you know that, don’t you?”
Yuuji nods, a sadness crossing over his face.
“But, if you’re good, we can spend time together tonight. Just the two of us.”
Yuuji’s demeanor shifts, his body rocking onto his tip-toes and back as he smiles up at Megumi. “Really?” He asks so innocently.
“Yes. Really.” Megumi confirms and Yuuji begins to jump up and down in place, hands clapping in front of him. “Alright, alright. Come on.” Megumi grabs his hand, guiding him to the side. He lays out a blanket, a small backpack with a couple of books that have several pictures inside. He hopes it’ll keep Yuuji preoccupied for at least a little while.
He calls the dogs, double checks that Yuuji is truly comfortable and that the two are guarding him securely before heading back to his classmates, making sure that the boy is always within his peripheral.
No one says a word to him as they begin to train but the tension is high. He can feel it in the way they seem to be going a little easier on him than usual and it’s making him go mad. They continue until he can’t bare the odd stares any longer, the softer punches, the lighter blows.
“If you have something to say, spit it out.” He turns to them, a defensive stance. They flinch from his harsh tone, Yuuji turning his head in their direction from his blanket at the edge of their sparring area. “Well? What the fuck is wrong with you?”
They stand there—staring. None of them want to speak first, of course. Inumaki takes the first go, a soft-spoken ‘salmon’ while Panda sighs. “We didn’t want to harm you in case it upset the kid.” He admits.
“Why do you even have him in the first place? Gojo loves to run his mouth but on this his lips were sealed. Said you had a ‘friend’ staying with you but he didn’t specify it was a child.” Maki gives her two-cents and Megumi has had enough.
They don’t need to know every aspect of his life and for the first time in a while, he feels the need to thank Gojo for not speaking on every single detail. It’s unusual but he’s grateful. He likely has a large space in his heart for the situation that Megumi is currently dealing with.
“Okay.” Megumi speaks, a cool-calm tone. “You don’t have to worry about it now. We’ll go, you guys can finish up.” He gestures his hands at them. “Since we’re just so fucking distracting.” Before they have the chance to argue, to defend their actions, he turns his back and stalks over to Yuuji whose smiling face warms him almost instantly.
He packs their things quickly, calling off the dogs and scooping Yuuji into his arms as they head back to their room. Megumi can hear the group calling his name in the distance but he doesn’t turn back.
The boy in his arms is babbling on and on about puppy-this and puppy-that. He’s pointing his small fingers at the trees. Megumi just watches as they walk and he does feel better in just being in Yuuji’s company until they make it back inside—and then that pent up energy returns. He thinks about his friends faces, the way they treated him like he couldn’t handle this, like he was other.
He sets Yuuji down on the bed and the boy gets comfortable immediately, back in the safe space of their four walls. Megumi kicks his shoes off and begins to pace—he doesn’t want to go on a mission, though he could probably leave Yuuji in the care of the dogs again and he’d be fine. His head wouldn’t be in it, it would be half here—with Yuuji. He could go to the gym but sparring alone on a standee is just not as useful.
His thoughts are halted when he feels a weight on his leg. He looks down to see Yuuji tugging on his pants, a worried expression on his face. “Gumi?” He asks, his voice quiet and meek. His cheeks are reddened as if embarrassed, not wanting to bug Megumi while he’s deep in thought. Megumi’s chest tightens, his breath quickens as his lids droop, staring down at the sweet boy. He kneels, of course, he can’t resist Yuuji.
The boy clings to Megumi’s neck. “Gumi’s upset.” Yuuji sounds sad, like tears are beginning to well as he tucks his nose into his Megumi’s shoulder.
He sighs. “I’m not upset—I’m just worked up.”
Yuuji leans back, looking up at Megumi with curiosity. “Work?”
Megumi can’t help himself, not when Yuuji looks so sweet and maybe it’s his own childhood brought to the surface or the time spent with his biological father before Gojo was introduced but he feels it boil over, bubbling and nearly putrid but too pure to be so.
“A kiss would make me feel better, Yuuji.”
The boys eyes light up like stars sparking, a way to help, a way to be useful to Megumi and Megumi knows it, he knows what he’s done and what he’s started and the end result will feel like a glorious ascent.
“A kiss?” Yuuji asks but he doesn’t actually seem confused, just asking for clarification.
Megumi isn’t the type to ask for the things he wants or needs and he’s already worked up, even more than before with the boy pressed to him, staring at him so intently, at his mouth. No hesitation to go for the cheek—nose—forehead. Yuuji leans forward, closes his eyes and Megumi watches. He feels those small, plump lips meet his own. He lets his hands trail over the boys sides to rest on his soft hips, locking him in place.
He knows he’s in too deep when that pent up feeling wells up inside of him, pulling Yuuji unbelievably closer. The boy tries to tilt his head back for a bit of air but Megumi doesn’t let him, a firm, large hand coming to cradle the back of the boys head, carding through his pink hair but Yuuji melts into it—the warmth, the feel, the safety.
Their mouths are still connected as Megumi runs a slick tongue over the boys small bottom lip, feeling it go slack to allow him access inside. Yuuji opens his round eyes, pupils blown wide and dark, looking drunk and barely able to focus on Megumi’s face.
Megumi presses in further, pulling Yuuji closer until their bodies are completely flush, chest to chest. Yuuji stands as Megumi kneels.
He slips his large tongue into the boys warm mouth, it’s a tight fit as he licks inside, wanting to suddenly devour him, to taste and feel. Yuuji doesn’t seem to know what to do with himself, with his tongue or hands but allows Megumi to move inside as he pleases, pressing against every curve and tooth. The boy tries to gasp for breath in the mans grip until they pull apart with a wet pop. Both completely out of it, chests heaving as if running for miles. Yuuji’s face trails after Megumi’s as if not wanting them to part, like being out of proximity is painful and it’s endearing, innocent and rages a fire deep inside of him.
“Kiss.” Yuuji whispers, barely able to speak. He’s asking for another but won’t look Megumi in the eye. His cheeks are red, his hair is already a mess from Megumi combing his long fingers through it. His small shirt is rucked up. He’s already in disarray and it takes everything inside of Megumi to not laugh at the boy—in good faith, of course but Yuuji wouldn’t understand and the last thing he wants is to upset him.
Megumi will do far more than just kiss. “Yes, more kisses, Yuuji. I promise.” He picks the boy up and feels Yuuji cling to him as if Megumi will disappear.
He lays Yuuji down on the bed, giving him a quick peck to the lips to which Yuuji looks visually saddened by. Megumi wants to poke a bit of fun but knows better, he looks vulnerable. A puppy with his belly showing.
“What’s wrong, baby?” Megumi asks and Yuuji looks away quickly, covering his face with his chubby arms. “Come on.” He tries again, pulling an arm away to see the boys face to which Yuuji shakes his head no. “Is it because we aren’t grown-up kissing?”
Yuuji doesn’t respond for a moment and Megumi knows the answer, of course he does but he wants the boy to respond. Finally, Yuuji nods his head yes.
“Is that what you want?”
Yuuji seems annoyed by Megumi’s questioning and begins to whine. “Yes.” The boy lets out, long and drawn, tears starting to pool at the corners of his eyes.
Megumi relents. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I didn’t know but you just have to ask for what you want, Yuuji.” Megumi watches him closely. “Like a big boy.” Yuuji looks up at him in awe, round eyes glistening.
He kisses Yuuji again, this time—like a grown-up. The way Yuuji wanted and the boy responds better, flicking his tongue back into Megumi’s, pressing them together, slick and wet. Megumi pulls back causing Yuuji to let out a soft whine. Megumi aches now, hard inside of his uniform pants which he removes quickly, tossing them onto the floor.
He crawls over Yuuji, hovering over his small frame. Unable to help himself from rubbing his barely clothed cocked across Yuuji’s covered crotch, can feel the wetness seep through their layers as they both moan at the sensation.
Yuuji gasps underneath him. “Gumi?”
“Yes, Yuuji?” He’s out of breath as he looks down at the boy, holding himself up by his forearms. He pets Yuuji’s hair for comfort and grinds down again, the sensation brings Yuuji to lift his own small hips up from the bed to meet him, closing his large eyes in pleasure. “That’s my boy.” Megumi encourages in a whisper.
He feels small hands twist in his shirt as he grinds again and again, his wet tip and Yuuji’s clothed cunt mix through the layers as they push into each other.
“Gumi—Gumi—Gu—” Is all Yuuji can mumble mindlessly as his hips rock in time with Megumi. “Mm—kiss.”
Megumi presses their lips together as his tip catches on Yuuji’s opening, the boys soaked shorts having been pushed to the side. And how badly Megumi wants to enter him, push deep inside of the boy until he hits organs, soft and spongy. How easily he could pound into the boy with recklessness but that would break whatever trust Yuuji has for him, the trust he’s worked so hard to build and he knows if he’s patient, just waits a little while longer—he will get there.
Just a little longer.
So, he lets himself slide between the wet lips of Yuuji who whines so loud he thinks the entire school will come running, thinks Gojo will hear him from his private dorm, thinks the rest of his classmates sparring outside will think something as gone terribly wrong—so he kisses him again and again.
Megumi keeps thrusting, Yuuji’s folds slick and wet, squelching and sticky until the small boys hands are tight in Megumi’s shirt, his small body going rigid with eyebrows drawn together. His breath begins to stutter as Megumi watches his little chest flutter but he doesn’t stop his movements—the soft warmth enveloping him so beautifully on both sides as he slips back and forth, overstimulating the boy who rides his high to a convulsing mess.
It brings Megumi to his peak, to watch the boy open his eyes in pure obsession, to cling onto Megumi’s neck as the man continues to thrust and Yuuji allows him to as he hits his own high. The boy he saved only a couple of days ago would surely let Megumi fuck him if he asked, hell, even if he didn’t ask. The look in the boys eye says it all, the way he’s latched onto him now proves it.
He can feel Yuuji watching as he breathes though the last of it, his seed painting the pink and swollen lips and stomach of the boy beneath him. He pulls himself together bit by bit, running a hand through Yuuji’s hair and over his soft, warm cheek.
“Gumi not worked up no more?” Yuuji asks and Megumi laughs—he let’s himself. A puff of air.
“No, Yuuji. Megumi isn’t worked up anymore.”