Chapter Text
In the middle of May, a heatwave hits the city, the usual springtime vibrancy wilting under the scorching sun. It’s too soon for the dorms to be stifling, yet here they are, the September fiasco all over again.
Even the nights offer no respite, the heat seeping into every corner of the room, making it impossible to sleep comfortably. But the worst aspect is that any type of physical activity becomes a sweaty, gruelling ordeal — in their case, sex.
“I can’t believe how hot it is already,” Yuuji complains, stripping off his shirt and flinging it across the room. “It’s not even officially summer yet.”
“I know,” Megumi agrees, his voice carrying the same edge of exhaustion. “It’s like I can’t even breathe anymore.”
They’re sprawled on Yuuji’s bed, both clad in the bare minimum of clothing. The fan hums uselessly in the background, its feeble breeze offering no real comfort. The sheets stick to their skin, and Megumi can feel the sweat trickling down his back.
Yuuji shifts beside him, propping himself on one elbow to look at him. “Don’t you want to take a cold shower?”
“That’s an idea,” Megumi says, though his tone is far from enthusiastic. Moving sounds like a chore. “Except, we already had two today.”
“True,” Yuuji admits. “But it’s either that or melt into the bed.”
Megumi chuckles, turning his head to look at Yuuji. The soft glow of the bedside lamp casts shadows across his face, highlighting the faint sheen of sweat on his forehead. Megumi’s eyes trail down his neck, his gaze lingering on the glistening skin and the rise and fall of Yuuji’s chest. The heat may be unbearable, but there’s something undeniably captivating about Yuuji at this moment.
“Maybe melting wouldn’t be so bad,” Megumi says, half-joking, half-serious. His hand reaches out almost of its own accord, tracing the line of Yuuji’s collarbone with a light touch.
Yuuji nods, but his eyes drift to Megumi’s lips. “Or we could find a way to distract ourselves,” he murmurs, his voice taking on a teasing lilt.
“In this heat, though?” Megumi groans. “I mean, are you even up for it?”
Yuuji’s smirk is almost a dare. “Are you?”
“Fine,” Megumi says with a sigh. “But don’t expect much movement on my end.”
“Deal,” Yuuji agrees, shifting closer until their bodies are pressed together. His lips find Megumi’s neck, placing a soft, lingering kiss there.
Before long, Yuuji’s hands are everywhere, exploring, caressing, teasing. His fingers slip under Megumi’s waistband, finding him already wet. “Looks like you’re enjoying this all too much,” Yuuji murmurs, his breath hot.
“Shut up,” Megumi mutters, but there’s no real bite to his words. Not when Yuuji’s fingers flicker over his cl*t. Up and down. Up and down. Setting a steady rhythm. The heat between them is almost suffocating, but the pleasure is a welcome distraction from the temperature. Megumi bites his lip, trying to stifle a sigh, but it escapes anyway, a soft sound that seems to echo in the room.
Yuuji’s smile widens, his eyes darkening with desire. “I love seeing you like this,” he murmurs. “So responsive.”
Megumi can only gasp as Yuuji’s fingers delve deeper. “Yuu,” he breathes, his voice a mix of impatience and need. “Please.”
That’s all it takes, apparently. Yuuji shifts, settling himself between his legs. Once comfortable, he pulls Megumi’s boxers down, tossing them aside. Megumi’s fingers tangle in the pink curls, holding on as Yuuji works him open with expert precision. It doesn’t take long, which is kind of pathetic, but Megumi has lost the ability to care about such things. Yuuji is good at this, and Megumi is all too willing to let go and enjoy it.
His body trembles as he comes, his vision blurring with the intensity of his org*sm. The heat, the overwhelming sensation of Yuuji’s mouth and fingers — it’s all too much, yet not enough.
“f*ck,” Megumi breathes. “That was —”
“Incredible?” Yuuji finishes for him as he crawls up beside him, his own arousal evident in the way he presses against Megumi’s side. “Yeah, you looked amazing.”
Megumi’s head swims with the afterglow, his body still quivering with the remnants of his org*sm. “You make it sound like a performance,” he mutters, but there’s no real annoyance in his voice. The haze of pleasure still clings to him, making everything feel distant and warm.
“Maybe a bit,” Yuuji teases, his hand idly tracing patterns on Megumi’s skin. “I mean, you’re pretty hot when I’m making you come apart like that.”
Megumi swats lightly at Yuuji’s shoulder, his eyes half-lidded and a lazy smile tugging at his lips. “Don’t get too full of yourself.” He rolls over, and slowly, he trails a hand down Yuuji’s chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath his fingertips. “Considering, I can do that same thing to you.”
Before Yuuji could respond, Megumi leans in, pressing their lips together. His hand continues its journey south, slipping beneath the waistband of Yuuji’s boxers to wrap around his already hard length.
He starts with slow, lazy strokes, his thumb teasing the sensitive head, smearing the pre-cum that has gathered there. Yuuji’s breath hitches, a low moan escaping his lips as he presses closer, seeking more. The heat seems to intensify around them, but it only adds to the urgency. Megumi increases his pace, his hand moving with more determination, and the slick sound of skin on skin fills the room.
“‘Gumi,” Yuuji groans as his hips start to thrust into Megumi’s hand, his breath coming in ragged moans and gasps. “So close.”
Encouraged, Megumi tightens his grip slightly, his strokes becoming more precise, more focused. He wants to see Yuuji come undone, to watch him lose control the same way he did before.
“You like that?” Megumi whispers, pushing through the embarrassment that heats his cheeks. Yuuji nods frantically, his eyes squeezed shut as he surrenders to the pleasure.
“Yes, f*ck, yes,” he breathes, his voice rough. Megumi watches, captivated by the way Yuuji’s face contorts with each stroke, and how his body tenses and relaxes in rhythm with Megumi’s movements. It’s intoxicating seeing the effect he has on him.
Finally, with a low, guttural moan, Yuuji shudders, his body going rigid as he spills over Megumi’s hand, his release warm and sticky.
They lie there for a moment, both catching their breath, the heat of the room almost forgotten. Yuuji turns his head to look at Megumi, a lazy smile spreading across his face. “You’re getting really good at that,” he murmurs.
Megumi snorts, wiping his hand on a tissue before settling back against Yuuji. “That dangerously sounds like I was terrible at it before.”
“Nah,” Yuuji teases, pressing a kiss to Megumi’s temple. “You were kinda shy, though, which was cute. But now, you’re confident, and it’s — well, hot as hell.”
“Wow,” Megumi huffs. “You really know how to flatter a guy.”
“You know me,” Yuuji replies with a grin. “Always full of charm.”
Megumi rolls his eyes, although it’s only for show. The moment feels all too comfortable; the awkwardness and tension from before have melted away completely. Their new arrangement indeed seems to work, the communication and open discussions about their boundaries and desires bringing a sense of stability that was previously missing.
“Alright, I think we should have that cold shower now,” Megumi says, pushing himself up into a sitting position. “As much as I’d love to stay here and bask in your compliments, there are all kinds of fluids everywhere.”
Yuuji chuckles, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, good point. Let’s clean up.”
They stumble out of bed and make their way to the bathroom, settling in two neighbouring cubicles. The cold water shocks their overheated bodies, but it’s welcomed. Megumi sighs as the coolness soothes his skin, washing away the remnants of their earlier activities. Beside him, Yuuji is humming a tune, the sound mingling with the splashing of water.
“Megumi?”
“Yeah?”
Yuuji’s voice is softer now, almost contemplative. “Do you have any plans, like, what do you want to do this summer?”
Summer feels like a distant concept, overshadowed by their current whirlwind of emotions and experiences. Megumi frowns slightly, considering. “I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it yet.”
Yuuji is silent for a moment, the only sound being the steady stream of water. Then, “Well, how about we do something together?” he asks. “We’ve been talking about this with the others. Going on a beach trip after the exams.”
Megumi’s initial instinct is to brush it off. Sun, sand, water, and heat — it sounds like his worst nightmare. Yet there’s something appealing about the idea of spending time with Yuuji, away from the city and the confines of their dorm room. Maybe, just maybe, it could be fun.
Megumi takes a moment to let it settle. “That sounds — nice,” he finally forces out, his tone thoughtful.
“Great! I’ll let the others know,” Yuuji says, his voice brightening, a smile evident in his words. “Now we only have to figure out how the rest of the summer break will go.”
“What do you mean?” Megumi asks as he reaches for the shower gel from the shelf, lathering it onto his skin. The cold water helps clear his mind, making focusing on Yuuji’s words easier.
“Well, it’s a long break, and we both will be back home,” Yuuji explains, a hint of nervousness creeping into his tone. “So I was thinking that maybe we could spend time together in between? I could visit you in Tottori, and you could come to Sendai.”
Megumi rinses the soap, considering Yuuji's suggestion. Navigating their newfound intimacy within the relatively safe confines of their dorm room is one thing, but taking it home, to places filled with childhood memories and familial expectations feels like a whole different challenge — and a significant step.
“Are you sure?” Megumi eventually asks, his voice echoing slightly in the tiled bathroom. “I mean, don’t you want a break from me?” Megumi clarifies, the question heavy with unspoken concerns.
Yuuji laughs softly, the sound reverberating through the walls. “A break from you? Hardly.”
“Alright, then,” Megumi says, feeling a tentative excitement build. He turns off the shower, reaching for his towel, when a thought emerges: “But you’ll have to endure my family.”
Megumi’s the first one to step out of his stall, his towel snuggly wrapped around his body as he watches Yuuji follow suit, his grin as bright as ever. “That sounds like a small price to pay.”
“Well —”
“Besides,” Yuuji interrupts, waving his hand around. “You’ll have to survive my brother first.”
That makes no sense, much so that Megumi’s only reaction is a simple: “What?”
“I told you already,” Yuuji says, confused. “Choso is coming to visit next week.”
Megumi’s mind races as he tries to recall Yuuji ever mentioning his brother is visiting. Maybe it had slipped his mind amidst their lives’ chaotic swirl. “I don’t remember you telling me,” he finally says, a slight frown creasing his forehead.
“I swear I did, but it’s okay. He’s only staying for a few days.”
Megumi shifts, trying to wrap his head around the upcoming visit. “Is he staying here with us?”
“Yeah, I’ll get a futon for myself from the student services so Choso can sleep in my bed,” Yuuji explains as if nothing is wrong with the whole prospect. But it’s the very bed that Megumi had been sprawled out on more than once, legs spread wide, with Yuuji’s face buried between them, lips and tongue working in ways that made him lose all semblance of composure — Stop. He’s definitely spiralling.
“We have sex there,” he blurts out, unable to keep the doubt out of his voice. The image of Yuuji’s brother lying where they had been so intimately entangled feels almost vulgar.
Yuuji’s eyes widen in realisation, a deep blush spreading across his cheeks. “Oh, right. I didn’t think about that,” he says. “I guess I should change the sheets, then.”
“You’re damn right you should,” Megumi mutters, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips despite himself. “It’s one thing to have your brother visit, but to have him sleep in the bed, we — did all that in. It’s just weird.”
The air between them grows heavy with a different tension. All too awkward.
“Okay, yeah, you’re right,” Yuuji says. “But I don’t think Choso would suspect a thing. We’ll keep things discreet while he’s here.”
“Obviously,” Megumi deadpans. “Don’t even think about touching me.”
“Well, we could always use this very bathroom —”
Megumi cuts him off with a sharp look. “No. Just, no.”
“Alright, alright.” Yuuji chuckles, stepping closer to press a quick kiss to the corner of Megumi’s mouth. “I’ll behave. Scout’s honour.”
Choso’s visit looms closer, and the days leading up to it are a mix of frantic preparation and palpable excitement. On Yuuji’s part, at least. He spends an awful lot of time cleaning up their shared space, making it presentable for his brother, while Megumi focuses on their upcoming exams. The heatwave has finally passed, giving them a much-needed reprieve. It’s a welcome change, making it easier to concentrate and breathe.
When Choso finally arrives, the dorm feels almost surreal. Yuuji introduces him with a wide grin, and Megumi is taken aback by how different Choso is compared to his expectations.
He’s tall, with an intense presence and a quiet demeanour that contrasts sharply with Yuuji’s more outgoing personality. There’s a familial resemblance in their features, sure, but where Yuuji is all smiles and sunshine, Choso is more reserved, his presence commanding without being overtly intimidating.
“Megumi, this is my brother, Choso,” Yuuji says, gesturing between them. “Choso, this is Megumi.”
“Nice to meet you,” Megumi offers. “It’s Fushiguro, though.”
Choso nods, his expression softening just a bit. “Fushiguro, then. It’s nice to finally meet you. Yuuji talked about you a lot.”
“Did he now?” Megumi raises an eyebrow, shooting Yuuji a glance.
Yuuji scratches the back of his head, a sheepish smile on his face. “Well, yeah. I might’ve mentioned you once or twice.”
“More like every other conversation.” Choso chuckles, a sound deep and full of heart. “It’s good to put a face to the name.”
The initial meeting goes smoother than Megumi anticipated. Choso is almost too polite and doesn’t seem fazed by the subtle tension in the room. They settle into a comfortable routine over the next few days, the three of them navigating around each other with surprising ease.
Despite his earlier apprehensions, Megumi finds Choso’s presence less disruptive than he had feared. In fact, it’s almost reassuring to see a different side of Yuuji through his interactions with his brother. There’s a deep bond between them, evident in how they communicate with teasing and genuine affection.
On the third day of the visit, Yuuji suggests a trip to an art museum. Megumi is surprised by the proposal, considering Yuuji’s usual preference for more energetic activities. However, he agrees, intrigued by the idea of finally spending time in an environment that is more of his territory.
Well, he hasn’t been to a museum in a long time, but the thought of immersing himself in the cool, quiet halls filled with art seems like a refreshing change of pace. Just because he doesn’t paint anymore, it doesn’t mean he can’t appreciate other people’s talent.
The museum itself is a large, imposing building with an air-conditioned interior that feels heavenly after spending time outside. They wander through the exhibits, each drawn to different pieces but sharing the experience in companionable silence.
“Hey, Megumi, check this out!” Yuuji calls, pointing at a large abstract painting that seems to swirl and shift under the light. “Isn’t it cool?”
Megumi smiles, nodding. “Yeah, I like how abstract paintings like this leave room for personal interpretation. It’s like a visual Rorschach test.”
“Uhm, what?” Yuuji asks, his brows knotting together. It’s kind of endearing.
“Rorschach test,” Megumi repeats. “It’s a psychological test where you interpret inkblots. The idea is that your interpretations reveal something about your subconscious mind.”
“Oh, I see,” Yuuji says, tilting his head as he squints at the painting. “So, what does it say about me if I think it looks like your puss*?”
“f*cking hell,” Megumi mutters, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks. He swats at Yuuji, who dodges with a grin, his laughter echoing through the quiet gallery. Choso, walking a few steps ahead, glances back with a raised eyebrow but says nothing.
“You can’t just say things like that out loud,” Megumi scolds, though there’s no real anger in his tone.
“What?” Yuuji grins, clearly unbothered. “You said it’s open for interpretation. So tell me, what does it say about me?”
“That you need to get your head out of the gutter,” Megumi deadpans, trying to suppress a smile but failing miserably. He glances at Choso, who is thankfully absorbed in a sculpture and seemingly oblivious to their exchange.
Yuuji winks, leaning in closer. “Maybe, but I’m pretty sure it’s just a reflection of how much I think about you.”
“Shut it.”
They continue their tour, engaging in light-hearted banter and occasionally sharing more serious thoughts on the art pieces that interest them. As they move through the exhibits, Megumi is drawn to a corner with different portraits, their subjects captured in various states of emotion and expression.
He stands before one particularly striking piece, a portrait of a woman with piercing eyes.
“You like that one?” Choso’s voice interrupts. Megumi hadn’t even noticed him approaching.
“Yeah,” he replies, still studying the painting. “There’s something about the eyes. It’s hard to get it right, to convey the emotions in a way that it feels —” He trails off. “Sorry. I got carried away.”
Choso shakes his head, his eyes still on the portrait. “No need to apologise. It’s refreshing to hear someone talk about art with that much passion.” He pauses, glancing at Megumi. “You’re an artist yourself, aren’t you?”
Megumi hesitates, a flicker of discomfort filling up his chest. “I used to be,” he admits. “I haven’t painted in a while.”
Choso nods thoughtfully. “Sometimes it’s good to take a break. You come back with a new perspective.”
“Perhaps you’re right,” Megumi says, unsure. He turns back to the painting, his thoughts drifting. New perspective, huh? Before he could dwell on it further, Yuuji appears beside them.
“What are you two talking about?” he asks, slipping an arm around Megumi’s waist.
The funny thing is, Megumi’s so used to the casual touch that he doesn’t flinch or pull away but leans into it without thinking about it. He only notices his mistake when Choso raises an eyebrow, his eyes flicking to Yuuji’s arm, then back to Megumi’s face. There’s no judgment there, only curiosity. Megumi clears his throat, trying to find the words.
“Just discussing the painting,” he says, keeping his voice even.
Yuuji’s smile widens. “Well, you got an eye for these things for sure.”
“Yeah, he just told me he used to paint,” Choso says, his tone genuinely interested. Megumi shifts uncomfortably, a flicker of unease passing through him.
“You told him that?” Yuuji gapes, faking some shock in his voice. “I had to wait months for you even to mention it.”
Megumi shrugs, a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks. “I guess the environment helps,” he mutters. “We’re in a museum. It’s kind of hard not to talk about art here.”
“Yeah, but it’s still cool that you shared it,” Yuuji says. “Maybe one day we can see some of your works?”
The suggestion makes Megumi’s heart skip a beat, but he maintains his composure. “Maybe,” he says noncommittally, not wanting to delve too deep into that part of his past right now.
Yuuji’s grip around Megumi tightens momentarily before he lets go, sensing the subtle tension. Choso nods, and the three of them move to the next exhibit, the moment passing without further comment. Despite the slight awkwardness, the rest of their museum visit goes smoothly. By the time they leave, the sun starts to set, casting a warm, golden glow over the city. The heat has mellowed into a more bearable warmth, and there’s a pleasant breeze in the air.
As they walk back to the dorm, Yuuji and Choso keep talking about various topics, their conversation flowing easily. Megumi trails slightly behind, his thoughts lingering on the paintings they had seen and the idea of picking up a brush again. Tsumiki said it’d be okay for him to do so. Everyone wants him to get back on his feet and paint, so why is it so hard?
Megumi’s steps slow down as he gets lost in his thoughts. Painting used to be his escape, his way of expressing himself when words failed him. But after the accident, everything changed. The physical therapy, the endless doctor’s appointments, the guilt that gnawed at him every time he looked at his sister. It all seemed to suffocate his creativity, leaving him empty and uninspired.
Yet, as he steals a glance at Yuuji, who’s laughing at something Choso said, his face illuminated by the fading sunlight, he can’t help but feel a twinge of longing. He misses the feeling of paint beneath his fingertips, the adrenaline rush —
As they reach the dorm, Megumi’s steps falter, a part of him wanting to linger outside a little longer. It could be the prospect of enjoying a moment of solitude, or he may need some time to process his thoughts. For whatever reason, he stops, reaching for his pack of cigarettes.
“Hey, Yuu,” he calls out, and Yuuji turns at once. “I’m staying out for a cig.”
“Alright, I’ll join you.” Yuuji nods, and then he shoots a glance at Choso. “We’ll be right back, okay?”
Choso simply waves them off with a small smile. “Take your time.”
They find their usual spot a few steps away from the entrance. Megumi lights his cigarette, the flame illuminating his face in the darkness. He takes a deep drag, letting the smoke fill his lungs before exhaling slowly.
“You okay?” Yuuji asks.
“Yeah,” Megumi says, exhaling another plume of smoke. “Just thinking.”
“About?”
Megumi hesitates for a moment, unsure how to voice his thoughts. “About painting,” he finally says. “How I miss it.”
Yuuji’s gaze softens, a look of understanding crossing his features. “You should start again,” he says simply, his tone gentle but firm.
“It’s not that simple,” Megumi murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s been so long, and I don’t even know if I still have it in me.”
“Maybe it’s that simple, though,” Yuuji shoots back. “Maybe all you need is to pick up that brush again, to let yourself be vulnerable. If it’s bad, then what? Nothing. You try again.”
Megumi takes another drag from his cigarette, contemplating Yuuji’s words. There’s a simplicity to them that resonates with him, a reminder that maybe he’s just overthinking.
“Yeah,” he says finally, exhaling another drag of his cigarette. “Maybe you’re right.”
Yuuji smiles, reaching out to squeeze Megumi’s hand. “I know I am.”
The dorm feels emptier after Choso leaves. Yuuji seems a bit sad, but the upcoming exams and the promise of summer plans keep his spirits high. They settle back into their routine, a comforting rhythm that eases the transition from the intense days of the visit.
Megumi recalls their last interaction at the train station when Choso pulled him into an unexpected but warm hug and whispered words of encouragement. “Take care of him,” Choso said, his voice a low murmur. “And take care of yourself, too.”
The memory lingers as the days blur together in the pre-exam haze. In all that, Megumi finds solace in the little moments he shares with Yuuji — Yuuji’s laugh after a particularly bad joke, the quiet assurance of a hand squeezed in passing, the occasional break snatched between study sessions.
During one such break, they find themselves sprawled on the grass in the campus quad, the sun shining brightly overhead. Megumi’s head rests on Yuuji’s lap as he reads from his notes, his eyes occasionally drifting shut as the warmth and exhaustion take their toll.
“You holding up okay?” Yuuji asks, running a hand through Megumi’s hair. “You look beat.”
“Just tired,” Megumi admits, his voice a sleepy murmur. “But we’re almost through it.”
Yuuji nods, his fingers continuing their soothing motions. “I’m so ready for it to be over,” he says. “I feel like my brain is about to explode.”
“Soon,” Megumi repeats, his eyes fluttering closed again. “Just a few more days.”
The comfort of Yuuji’s presence eases the day’s tension, and they simply bask in the silence for a moment. But it doesn’t last long.
“Megumi,” Yuuji calls, his voice a soft murmur.
“Yeah?”
“I was thinking,” Yuuji says, his fingers gently tracing patterns on Megumi’s arm now. “After I pass all my exams, will you shave my head?”
Megumi blinks up at Yuuji, not sure if he heard him correctly. “Shave your head? Why would you want me to do that?”
Yuuji grins. “I don’t know, it seems fun. And besides, I could use a change.”
“Will it be back to its natural colour, then?” Megumi asks, somewhat disappointed.
“Well, would you bleach it for me?” Yuuji shoots back, and before Megumi could answer, he continues. “If yes, I’ll keep it pink.”
Megumi hesitates, picturing Yuuji’s hair in its natural dark brown state. The vibrant pink has become such a part of his identity that it’s hard to imagine him without it. “I guess I could do that,” Megumi says finally, a small smile tugging at his lips.
“Awesome!” Yuuji beams. “We can do it right after the exams. It’ll be our little celebration.”
“Sure.”
The exams come and go with late-night study sessions, shared stress, and mapping out their beach trip. Some evenings, Nobara joins them, and they spend hours laughing and discussing their plans. Between reading up on moral theories and anatomy dissertations, they book a beach house in Shimoda, feeling the thrill of anticipation grow as the dates draw nearer.
The day after the last exam, true to his word, Yuuji sets up everything for his haircut in the dorm bathroom. Megumi feels a mix of excitement and nervousness as he helps Yuuji prepare. He’s never touched anyone’s hair before, but Yuuji’s trust makes him determined to do a good job.
Yuuji sits on a stool, a towel draped over his shoulders, while Megumi examines the clippers with an air of concentration, ensuring everything is in place before starting.
“Ready?” Megumi asks, his voice steady despite the slight tremor in his hands.
“Ready,” Yuuji echoes, all too loud and full of energy. “Just go for it.”
With a deep breath, Megumi switches on the clippers, the buzzing sound filling the bathroom. He gently places his hand on Yuuji’s head, tilting it slightly to get a better angle. Starting at the nape of Yuuji’s neck, he works his way up in slow, steady strokes. The hair falls away in soft tufts, revealing the natural colour underneath.
“You’re going to look so different,” Megumi muses, pausing to brush away some of the cut hair.
“Good different or bad different?” Yuuji asks, his tone teasing.
“Good different,” Megumi says with a small smile. “Definitely good different.”
As the final strands of hair fall away, Megumi takes a step back to admire his work, feeling a mix of pride and relief. He turns off the clippers, setting them aside to run a hand over Yuuji’s head, feeling the short, soft bristles.
“There,” he says, satisfaction evident in his voice. “First round done.”
Yuuji stands up, looking at himself in the bathroom mirror with a wide grin. “Whoa,” he exclaims. “It feels so weird, but I like it! It’s a good difference for sure.” He turns to Megumi, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “Now, about that bleaching.”
“Alright, sit back down,” Megumi says, picking up the bleach kit they had bought earlier. “Let’s ensure you stay the pink-haired menace I know and love.”
There’s a pause, the word that just slipped out finally registering inside Megumi’s head. Love, love, love. Megumi’s face heats up, and he quickly focuses on Yuuji’s hair, determined not to let his slip-up affect the moment. He mixes the bleach carefully, ignoring the fluttering in his chest. Yuuji, however, seems oblivious, too excited about his new look to notice the accidental confession.
As the bleach starts to work its magic, Yuuji chatters away about their upcoming beach trip, and Megumi listens, nodding and occasionally adding his thoughts, though his mind drifts back to that single word. He’d said it so casually, but now it hangs between them, unspoken but very much present. He wonders if Yuuji noticed, if he feels the same, if —
“Hey, Earth to Megumi!” Yuuji’s voice breaks through his thoughts, and he blinks, focusing back on the present. Yuuji is looking at him with an amused expression. “You okay there? You zoned out.”
“Yeah, sorry,” Megumi says, shaking his head slightly.
When the timer finally goes off, they rinse the bleach, leaving Yuuji with an awful yellowish-blonde colour. Yuuji laughs as he catches sight of it in the mirror. “It looks kind of cool like this,” he says.
Megumi snorts, unable to help himself. “Well, it’s not staying that way. Let’s get the pink back.”
They work together, applying the dye with more confidence now that the most challenging part is over. Megumi focuses on ensuring even coverage, taking his time to do it right.
“I can’t wait to see Nobara’s reaction,” Yuuji says with a grin. “She’ll probably have a lot to say.”
“She always does,” Megumi agrees, finishing the last patch of hair. “Alright, now we just wait for it to set.”
They pass the time by tidying up the bathroom and sharing a few more light-hearted jokes. When the timer goes off again, Megumi rinses out the dye, revealing Yuuji’s freshly renewed hair.
“There we go,” Yuuji says, admiring the vibrant pink. He turns to Megumi. “What do you think?”
Megumi’s eyes roam over Yuuji, taking in the fresh look. “I think it suits you,” he says. The buzz cut, combined with the bright pink, makes Yuuji look even hotter, if possible.
It’s not fair.
“You did a great job.” Yuuji’s voice drops, becoming softer, more intimate. He reaches out, his fingers grazing Megumi’s arm. “Thank you.”
Megumi’s breath catches slightly, the atmosphere in the small bathroom shifting. “You’re welcome.”
“You know,” Yuuji murmurs, and his hand moves to Megumi’s cheek, cupping it gently. “I think you deserve a reward for all your hard work.”
“Oh?” Megumi raises an eyebrow. “And what would that be?”
Yuuji doesn’t answer with words. Instead, he closes the remaining distance between them, his lips capturing Megumi’s in a slow, deliberate kiss. It’s gentle at first but quickly deepens as Megumi responds, his hands finding their way to Yuuji’s shoulders, pulling him closer.
Yuuji’s hands wander, one slipping behind Megumi’s neck to hold him in place, the other tracing the curve of his jaw. Megumi shivers under the touch, and it only gets worse as Yuuji shifts, lifting Megumi up all so effortlessly and placing him on the edge of the sink.
Megumi gasps, the cold porcelain against his thighs sending a jolt through him. His fingers dig into Yuuji’s shoulders as he adjusts to the new position, his legs instinctively wrapping around Yuuji’s waist to keep him close. Good god.
Yuuji grins against Megumi’s lips. “I need a little space here, babe,” he says, his hand finding its way to the waistband of Megumi’s shorts.
“Yuu,” Megumi breathes, his voice shaky with desire.
Yuuji hums against his neck, his breath hot and tantalising. “Hm?”
Megumi leans back slightly, his breath hitching as Yuuji’s lips find a particularly sensitive spot on his neck. “Yuu,” he repeats. “Not here.”
Yuuji pauses for a moment, his breath warm against Megumi’s throat. The hesitation is brief, barely noticeable before he tightens his grip on Megumi’s waist. “Why not?” he murmurs, his voice low and husky. “I kind of like it here.”
Megumi’s mind races, torn between the thrill of the moment and the practicalities of their location. But Yuuji’s touch overrides his concerns.
“Fine,” he concedes, his voice a breathy whisper. “But be quick.”
Yuuji’s lips curl into a triumphant smile, his hand already sliding into Megumi’s underwear. Megumi shudders, gripping the edge of the sink for support as Yuuji’s fingers find the wetness already pooling there.
The vulnerability of the moment makes Megumi’s pulse quicken, but there’s an undeniable thrill to it as well. He can’t deny it. The risk, the sheer audacity of what they’re doing adds an edge to the pleasure, making every touch, every caress feel more intense.
“You know,” Yuuji starts, his voice only a whisper. “Someone could walk in at any moment. They could hear you, see you like this, all spread out for me.” His fingers curl inside Megumi, hitting just the right spot that makes his hips jerk involuntarily.
“Yuu, what if —” Megumi whines, but Yuuji cuts him off with a deep, slow kiss, swallowing his words.
“What if?” Yuuji echoes, his voice a low growl. “What if someone sees how good you look, all needy and desperate?” He punctuates his words with a sharp thrust of his fingers, drawing a strangled cry from Megumi’s lips.
“Please,” Megumi whispers, his voice strained. “Hurry —”
Yuuji’s grin widens, his fingers moving with purpose now, thrusting into Megumi’s c*nt with a relentless rhythm. His thumb continues its teasing dance over Megumi’s cl*t just right. God, he truly knows Megumi now like the back of his hand.
“Yuu,” Megumi pants, his hips buckling forward over and over again. “Another.”
It doesn’t take long after that. The moment a third finger joins the other two, Megumi gasps, his back arching against the cold porcelain of the sink as his body adjusts to the added pressure. His c*nt clenches, the rhythmic contraction pulling Yuuji in even deeper.
“Megumi,” Yuuji murmurs against his skin. “I can feel you throbbing. You’re close, aren’t you?”
Megumi makes an all too needy, breathy noise of agreement. His muscles tense, and he throws his head back, another moan escaping his lips. The sound echoes off the tiles, mingling with the wet, obscene noises of Yuuji’s hand at work. He can’t hold back anymore, his body seizing up as the org*sm hits him, hard and fast.
That doesn’t stop Yuuji. He only withdraws his hand when Megumi pleads for him to do so. Then, he brings his fingers to his lips, licking them clean with a satisfied hum. “You taste good.”
“You’re impossible,” Megumi huffs, though his words have no real bite.
Yuuji chuckles, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. “And you love it.”
If only he knew how much.
