ok

his reply came even, without a hint of inflection. he turned to open the back door of the black sedan. “you can find the result within permissible parameters. we should head back before the traffic near the toll gate gets heavy.”

he was always eager to get debriefs over with. tired after a high-output expulsion, all megumi usually wanted was an energy drink or a quiet corner.

you slid into the backseat beside him, and you could swear you saw him growl, or snarl, some low and quiet noise—the micro-expression gone before you could fully clock it.

the engine hummed to life as megumi crossed his arms, the motion entirely languid as he cast his eyes to the window.

“fushiguro-kun,” the manager murmured, addressing him from the front seat. “would you like me to drop you off at gojo-san's apartment instead? i figured you might prefer that in this moment.. as he had to leave right away for a mission.”

you glanced over at megumi, expecting him to jump at the chance of a weekend at home, free of his guardian slash your mutual teacher to annoy him.

“no,” megumi replied curtly, not taking his eyes off the passing highway lights. “the dorms are fine.”

the driving man didn’t ask any other questions. you felt yourself still riding the adrenaline wave as the car passed various roads, gate still a ways off. the floaty feeling in your stomach slowly dissipated, fingers tapping against your thigh while you replayed the scenario—the split-second decision, the way the curse's attack almost clipped you right before totality bit down hard on it.

your eyes landed on megumi.

his head was still turned toward the scenery outside, arms draped across himself. the streetlights flickered across his face in uneven strips, the muscle near his temple jumping once. easy to miss from the outside but you knew him, and how the one tendon in his neck flexed every few seconds when he was chewing on something he wouldn’t say.

“hey.” you called.

nothing.

“megumi?”

a beat. then, a flat monotone. “what.”

“you okay?”

another heavy beat as the car hit against a bump on the road, his shoulder barely shifting.

“..fine.”

you narrowed your brows, snorting lightly. “really? because you’re really quiet. like... mad-quiet.”

megumi’s eyes slid away from the trees outside, shifting right into the seat in front of him before he finally turned his head, just enough to look at you. unreadable, except for his eyes, where the accusation smoldered underneath.

“i’m not mad.”

“okay.” you put your hands up, shrugging. “just checking.”

the silence settled as you turned away from the short exchange, watching the road from the front window.

but the tension radiating off megumi’s body persisted. twice you caught him in your peripheral—looking at you as if waiting for something, or trying to figure out whether to even say it.

at last the car pulled into the parking lot of the dorms, prompting ijichi to clear his throat after parking the car. “i’ll have filed the report by tomorrow morning. please get some rest.”

megumi was out of the car before the manager finished his sentence and the car door locked back into place. he moved towards the entrance with no wait in sight. you thanked the manager, grabbing your bag and following right after him.

the entrance of the building was quiet, the white fluorescent lights overhead buzzing a faint, sterile vibration. the dizzying rush from the mission earlier had left your body, replacing itself with exhaustion, every step you took.

he didn’t rush, nor did he slow down. shoulders set, hands shoved in his pockets—every line of megumi’s frame screamed ‘don’t talk to me’.

so, naturally, you sped up.

it was nearby anyway, his room, closer than yours.

you picked up the pace, hoping to part ways in good terms before you continued down the hall—beyond ready to unlace your boots, crash onto your mattress, and sleep for the next twelve hours.

yet, megumi didn’t stop.

you watched, footsteps faltering slightly, as he walked right past his own door without so much as a glance at the handle, silhouette carving a straight path ahead.

feeling slightly puzzled, you addressed him.

“okay. what is it?”

no answer.

“hey. megumi. can you talk?”

his chest expanded. “nothing.”

your shook your head. “i don’t buy that.”

he stopped, making you almost crash into him.

megumi turned halfway, looking at you, and there it was again—a flicker, barely contained.

“you want to do this here?” he said, low, controlled. “in the hallway?”

you stilled, blinking at his demeanor, bouncing a singular leg for a moment before making space between your bodies and passing him. “jeez, fine.”

he trailed behind you, until, there it was, your room in sight. you took out your key, irritation already bubbling in your nerves from megumi’s unusual display. the key scraped against the lock, the metallic sound giving way as you turned the handle. you pushed the door open, stepping into the cool, dim sanctuary of your room.

megumi followed right over the threshold, catching the edge of the heavy oak door with a swift, backward motion of his hand. he swung it shut with a definitive thud that seemed to cut off the rest of the world.

you dropped your bag on the floor, turning the bedside lamp on.

his hands were out of his pockets now, arms hanging straight at his sides. megumi’s torso rose and fell in a tightly coiled rhythm.

and the silence stretched.

agitated, you couldn’t take the suffocating weight of the situation anymore. you crossed your arms, turning fully to face him, the last remnants of your post-mission adrenaline flaring back to life as anger.

“what’s your probl—”

“you.”

megumi’s voice wasn't loud, a low, gravelly whisper instead that barely carried across the small room, but the gravity behind it made the breath catch slightly in your throat.

“me? what?”

the silence that followed his words felt worse than you expected.

you stood, arms loosened, looking at him. megumi met your eyes—then didn’t, opting to look at the floor. his jaw worked, hands opening and closing at his sides like he was physically trying to squeeze the anger out through his palms.

he closed his eyes, brows furrowing.

“why would you do that?”

“huh?” you reacted.

his head snapped up. “you know what.”

“megumi, i genuinely—”

“you. know. what.” he stepped forward, tone cutting.

“i don’t.” you matched his expression. “i saw an ope—”

“an opening.”

megumi closed in, tone sharpened, invading. “no signal. no wait. just—” he stopped himself, clenching his jaw tight.

“you had my back.” you shrugged, as if he was the one being unreasonable.

every muscle in his neck tightened.

“what if i hadn’t?” something in megumi’s eyes shifted, gone in a fleeting moment.

however, the meaning landed. one you had a zero response to.

his voice dropped to a mere order.

“don’t do it again.”

the argument had run out of words, the air seemingly compressing in the fraction of an inch between your faces.

“and if i refuse?” you met his eyes, neither of you yielding.

not until megumi’s eyes dropped to your mouth. wide eyed, brows-knit, breath hitching—his expression twisted before he caught it. he looked like he wanted to break something, like he was about to die.

and then, it frayed, shattering.

megumi crashed his mouth against yours, nothing gentle or soft; consuming instead, like restraint finally let off its leash, snapping and punishing in its wake, trying to pour every word he couldn't say into the press of his lips against yours.

he grabbed your jaw firmly, tilting your head with insistence. you gasped against his mouth, a sound swallowed by him.

his other hand found your hip, gripping hard enough to bruise, pulling you against him like he needed to feel that you were real—that you were here, that you hadn't slipped through his fingers.

you kissed him back, angry, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling and pushing. megumi made a guttural sound against your mouth, vibrating straight through your chest and causing your knees to weaken.

he seemed intent on not giving you room to breathe. megumi pressed forward, his frame overtaking yours, driving his weight into you until your thighs were flush against his. the hand gripping your jaw slid down to the nape of your neck, fingers gripping into your hair with a fierce, possessive hold. he angled your head to take more, deeper, until your lips felt battered from the force of his own.

the heat between your bodies was suffocating.

you clawed at his back, nails digging through the heavy fabric of his uniform, desperate to pull him closer, matching the frantic pace megumi was setting. every inhale was sharp, filling your lungs with the scent of him—rain, ozone, and the bitter leftover tang of a successful mission.

megumi mouth tore away from yours with a ragged gasp. he dragged his lips down to your jawline, heavy and damp, burying his face in your neck.

he bit down on the sensitive skin right above your collarbone, a bruising nip that drew a breathy gasp from you. his fingers trembled against your skin, his chest heaving violently as he held you in a vice grip.

“idiot,” megumi panted against your pulse point, his voice a broken scrape. he dug harder into your waist, anchoring you to your desk beneath. “a reckless—”

“shut it,” you breathed, your fingers tugging sharply at his dark hair to force his face back up to yours. you were both flushed, sweating, eyes locked in the dim, striped light of the room.

“again.”

a hunger, full of danger, flashed in megumi's eyes.

you held his gaze, breathless. “do it.. again.”

megumi slammed his mouth back over yours, frantic, fueled by your words and the shared heat of your skin.

his hands began to slide down in a clumsy tremor, a rare impatience more than peeking through. fingers tangled in the hem of your uniform, he shoved it off your shoulders with brutal efficiency.

another barrier neither of you had the patience for was the stiff fabric of his uniform.

you fumbled with the stiff buttons at his collar, feeling the hot, rapid beat of his pulse beneath his jaw. he shoved your hands away, ripping the fabric open himself, not sparing a single thought to the scattering buttons.

megumi yanked the uniform down his arms, the heavy material hitting the floor and revealing the lean, hard planes of his chest—the shifting shadow of his energy dancing in the low light, untamed—he was slick with sweat, radiating the faint, sharp hum of leftover cursed energy.

with a heavy surge of momentum, megumi hoisted you onto the edge of your desk. the shift in gravity was immediate—a sudden slide of skin against skin as he locked you against the edge of the wood, the contents falling off, ending up as collateral on the floor, loud clatter mixing with the sound of his ragged breathing.

he crowded into the space between your legs, his hands gripping under your thighs to pull you right to the edge, anchoring you against him, the friction of your bodies and the possessive, wordless language of his hands on your skin doing all the speaking.

the surface was a stark, biting contrast to the blistering heat of him wedged between your knees. megumi pressed his head hard against yours, chest heaving against your ribs like a dying engine. his gaze tracked the rapid pulse fluttering in your throat, taking in the undeniable proof that you were still whole.

any leftover clothing standing between your bodies was starting to feel offensive. megumi’s fingers, still somewhat precise, clawed at the closures of your pants, his own belt buckle clinking against the desk in the quiet room. you tore at the remaining layers scraping over the damp, tense muscles of his, working to strip away the final distance.

when bare, the raw shock of skin-on-skin contact made you both flinch. megumi let out a fractured sound—a choked-back sob—and his thumbs dug mercilessly into the soft dip above your hip bones, stabilizing you hard against himself once more.

he didn’t wait. he didn’t have the capacity for it. the rigid heat of megumi overrode any gentle preparation, giving into the ache in your lower body. his hand slid, fingers pulling the back of your thigh up to angle you, lifting just enough to align himself.

then he pushed forward, entering you in one heavy movement, the sudden fullness of him stealing the air right out of your lungs. your fingers clamped into the meat of his shoulders, your back arching off the desk as a high-pitched cry broke from your lips. megumi captured the noise in his own mouth in a blind collision, his entire body shivering, burying himself completely inside you.

he held himself there, breathing you in as his fingers pushed against your sides even harder—proving to himself that you were trapped beneath him, alive.

you wrapped your legs around his waist to pull him closer. megumi took the cue like a directive, his palms locking onto your hips, driving himself against you.

every movement of megumi was devoid of hesitation, reckless neediness burning away. he moved, in a relentless tilt of his hips, deliberate and adamant, striking the breath right out of your lungs.

megumi’s head dropped into the crook of your neck again, his teeth grazing your skin as his breath came in uneven, strained whimpers—completely unraveled, absorbed by the friction of your skin. you felt the rapid, violent thud of his heartbeat matching your own as the room grew smaller.

the tension in his muscles wound to a breaking point, megumi’s pulse hammered frantically right against where he buried his face into. every thrust rapidly burned out the last of your reserves, dragging you both right to the edge with a fierce momentum that neither of you could stop if you tried.

megumi dialed up the pace, entirely unforgiving as his hands braced hard on the desk behind you. his knuckles turned white as he used the leverage to impel himself into you even deeper, harder, making your vision blur at the edges. your own hips rocked up to meet him, chasing the rupture—heels digging into the small of his back to lock him in place. loud, unsparing sounds hit the quiet walls of your bedroom. megumi did nothing to stifle them, he was way past the point of hiding.

he chased the same rippling release with you, movements clouding into a chaotic frenzy.

“me—gumi—,” the chopped plea broke from your lips, fingers catching at his lower back.

megumi let out a low, ragged groan, his teeth catching the skin of your shoulder as he delivered three relentless pushes that hit the exact spot. a wave of heat crashed through your lower body, pulsating your internal muscles around him in a tight, merciless spasm that sent him nearly over the edge. your back arched, breath catching in a high, choked gasp as your own high rushed through you.

the squeezing friction was the breaking point for megumi—his entire frame quivered, a fractured sob escaping him. he gave a final, deep thrust, burying himself to the hilt as he came. his muscles seized up as he shuddered violently, pouring himself into you. head rested on your shoulder, his breathing dissolved into ruined, hyperventilating gasps.

the uneven cadence of your tangled breathing slowly came down together. you lay back against the wood, completely spent, limbs heavy and tingling. the anger that had fueled the entire night had burned itself down to ash, leaving only an open ache in your chest as the adrenaline ebbed and reality settled in.

the heat in the room was stagnant now, the frantic rush of heartbeats dropping back into normal. leaked under the door in a thin, sterile line was the white light from the hallway, cutting across the dim room, bringing your reality back into focus

megumi had planted his face against your collarbone, cursed energy finally settling back beneath his skin, leaving him feeling intensely, heavily human. every breath he took was still an unlevel vibration that pressed right against your chest. his hands were still clamped tightly, hooked around your waist, but the hold had softened into something more grounding.

you stared past the dark crown of his hair, eyes fixing onto the ceiling above.

“i trusted you.”

your words were dropped softly into the quiet, a simple statement of fact. “that is why.”

the light rise of megumi’s back stopped entirely, chest locking tight against your ribs. a new, cold dread began to pool right in the pit of megumi’s stomach—worse than the fury he’d arrived with, than the raging panic that had driven him to tear through your clothes.

the implication was clearer than day. the next time the curtain fell, your life wouldn't just be in your hands—it would be in megumi’s, too. if his shadows failed, if he was a half-second too slow, he would have to carry the corpse of the only person who had looked at him, choosing to put their undying trust into him.

his fingers twitched on your side, squishing the flesh, trying to hold onto something megumi was already terrified of losing.

he knew how fragile anchors were in the world of sorcerers.

“stupid,” megumi whispered, voice breaking.

he didn't look up.

face buried deeper, nose pressing your throat until it almost hurt, megumi tried to hide from the absolute certainty of your words. he wanted to tell you.

he wanted to tell you that one day, he might fail you. that ‘trust’ is a luxury that usually ends in a body bag, and the thought of you looking at him with that same trust while you bled out in some forgotten clearing made him feel physically sick.

“you’re so... stupid.”

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