"That's the choice. I love him, with all that, because of all that. On purpose. I love him on purpose." — Casey McQuiston, Red, White, and Royal Blue
written for ItaFushi Week 2021 Day 4 Prompts: firsts / "every time I look at you, I think I fall a little more in love"
enjoy!
It's not how Megumi imagined he'd have his first kiss. Not that he's spent much time fantasizing about that, anyway; he's a sorcerer and sorcerers fill their time polishing their techniques, learning the best way to exorcise a curse without demolishing the surrounding area, how to best dress a wound and take a punch, and just generally trying to survive another day. But he's also a teenage boy so he's at least thought about it once or twice.
If he's being honest, the amount of time he's spent thinking about it has risen exponentially since Itadori Yuuji literally crashed into his life in a shower of glass with a too-kind heart and a breathtaking smile.
It's difficult to not love Itadori. Megumi would even venture to say it's impossible once you get to know the boy, once you accept he's his own person before he's a curse vessel. Once you see how much he loves predictable, trashy TV dramas, or the way he hums as he cooks and shimmies across the kitchen in his own little concert, or how his lip trembles to see another person in pain, and the way he can lift cars without breaking a sweat but handles the bugs Kugisaki screams to squash with the gentlest of hands as he releases them outside—anyone would fall a little in love with him. Megumi is no exception. He didn't have a hope in the world of avoiding his fate once those warm honeyed eyes met his with a rain-smeared bloodied smile.
Love is the greatest curse of all, he remembers Gojo saying once, not directed at Megumi but hollow beneath his breath as if he were reminding himself, and although his eyes had been covered Megumi could tell his gaze was far away, focused on some distant memory that he couldn't begin to imagine. Of all the lessons Gojo's taught him over the years, this is the one that Megumi understands best.
He fell in love with a dead man, after all. The fact that he manages to return doesn't make that fact any less true. Still, despite knowing this can only end in tragedy, Megumi chooses Itadori anyway. Grabs on with a white-knuckled grip and refuses to let go no matter the inevitable agony because Megumi's a sorcerer and sorcerers exist to exorcise curses and Itadori Yuuji the boy deserves to be loved wholly; Megumi would be so lucky to provide it.
Being loved in return is not something he even considered, hadn't even cared about as much, but somehow here they are walking hand-in-hand along a deserted strip of beach as the sun begins to set after a day spent pretending they're normal teenagers who have the luxury of indulging in simple things like dates. It's a beautiful delusion just for them, a memory to tuck away in a velveteen box meant to be opened when the days aren't nearly so bright and sweet.
But for now, the sky is painted a warm tangerine and the waves are capped in gold and his hand is warm in Itadori's. Their fingers have been intertwined for so long now that their palms are bit damp and Megumi's knuckles are cramped but letting go is the last thing on his mind. Itadori doesn't seem inclined to release him any time soon either. Instead, he grips his hand just a little tighter as his eyes light up with excitement before he pulls Megumi forward so he can retrieve something from the freshly-washed sand.
"Fushiguro, look!" He holds up his prize for Megumi to see; a piece of pale mint sea glass the size of his thumbnail, rounded like a pearl from its time tumbling in the sea. Smile edged in gold, Itadori holds it out to him. "For you."
He accepts it gingerly, takes a moment to admire its frosty appearance and gritty texture, before carefully pocketing it for safekeeping. He wonders if the smile he offers looks as lovesick as it feels. When he leans in to press his lips to Itadori's in thanks, it feels as natural and easy as breathing. He lingers a moment to commit the sensation to memory—the small puff of air against his cheek from Itadori's surprise, the slightly rough texture of his chapped lips as they push back against his, the tickle of his hair against Megumi's forehead, the way his fingers tighten almost infinitesimally around his—before pulling away.
It takes Itadori a second to open his eyes again, lashes fluttering as he blinks, dazed, and looks up at Megumi with something akin to wonder. As if he can't believe he could have earned such a gesture with such a simple gift, like he can't imagine that Megumi would even want to kiss him, which is inconceivable because while Megumi might not have thought about his first kiss often, he has been overwhelmed with the desire to kiss Itadori more times than he can recall.
Maybe it's the atmosphere, the way the air around them has become drenched in a soft peach sherbet and the waves chase after the shore to tickle their toes with froth; maybe it's how this day has been everything Megumi never dared dream of before Itadori crash landed into his life. Or maybe it's the ever present desire to ensure that this beautiful, kind, sparkler of a boy knows he's adored with every breath he takes.
Whatever the reason, Megumi can't help the raw honesty in his voice as he admits softly, "Every time I look at you, I think I fall a little more in love."
He can feel the heat of Itadori's flush against his skin when he trails his knuckles over the soft swell of his cheek until he's cupping the back of his head, waiting and enjoying the view as he does.
Whining, Itadori covers his eyes with his forearm but it does nothing to hide the cherry-red tips of his ears. "Fushiguro, you can't just say things like that!"
"Why not?" He rubs his thumb in a rhythmic, soothing arc over the sharp line of his jaw, lips quirking with amusement. "It's the truth."
There's another garbled splutter that he can't quite make sense of before Itadori drops his arm to pin him with a determined gaze, lips pursed into a pout.
"If you don't shut up I'll have no choice but to kiss you again."
His words send a thrill up Megumi's spine, an electric kind of tingling that spreads all the way to his fingertips. Smile edging into a smirk, he opens his mouth to argue—technically, he had kissed Itadori—or maybe to shower him in all the saccharine truths he can think of to see how many other shades of red he can cause.
Itadori makes good on his promise before he can utter a sound.
thanks for reading! ( ´ ∀ `)ノ i hope you enjoyed (despite my inconsistent writing style haha)
writing from Megumi's POV is always a surprise, i never know if i'm going to get disaster gay/flustered mess Megumi or introspective, hopelessly devoted will-burn-down-the-world-for-Yuuji Megumi lol but both are fun
as always, you can find me on Tumblr at sawamura-daichis-thighs and/or Twitter at ms_refreshing