Can I Borrow Your Hands? part 2
wc:4.78k CollegeAU Megumi x Artist!reader
warning: gets a little steamy at the end?
You didn't sleep. Well...you slept. Technically. But every time you closed your eyes, your mind replayed the same moment. Megumi turning his head. His face suddenly inches from yours. The way neither of you had moved. The way his breath had fanned softly across your lips. His quiet smile before he left.
You buried your face into your pillow with a muffled groan. "...stop thinking about it."
You rolled onto your back and stared at the ceiling. Nothing happened. Nothing. So why couldn't you stop thinking about it? By the time morning arrived, you'd given up on sleeping altogether. You stood in front of your bathroom mirror, blinking at your own reflection.
There were faint shadows beneath your eyes. You looked exactly like someone who had spent the entire night overthinking a kiss that never actually happened.
Thankfully it was Friday. Normally, you dreaded Fridays. Today, they felt like a blessing. No psychology lecture which meant no sitting shoulder to shoulder with Megumi for nearly two hours. No awkward silence while pretending yesterday hadn't happened.
You silently thanked whatever higher power was listening. At least you'd have until the afternoon before you had to see him again. Unfortunately, the afternoon came much faster than you would've liked.
The studio was already empty when you arrived. The afternoon sunlight spilled across the wooden floors in long golden rectangles. Megumi wasn't there yet. Great. You preferred getting there early anyway. It gave you time to settle your nerves or at least try to.
You set up your materials meticulously, trying to pass time or to ease your nerves. Your eyes drifted toward the studio door.
"...He's still not here yet." So why was your heart already beating this fast?
As if on cue, the door slid open. Megumi stepped inside. Just like yesterday, he was dressed in a simple black T-shirt, one hand hooked around the strap of his bag. Your heartbeat betrayed you immediately.
"...Morning." He walked over, stopping beside your easel.
His brows knitted together slightly. "...You okay?"
Your stomach dropped. "I do?"
You laughed, hoping it sounded convincing. "I had to pull an all nighter."
"Mhm." You nodded a little too quickly. "Another project."
He gives you a small soft smile. "...Sounds rough."
"It was." You feel a bit of warmth creep up on your cheeks.
Technically...lying awake until four in the morning replaying the memory of almost kissing your model was a project. Just not one your instructors had assigned.
Megumi gave a small nod. "You should've gotten more sleep."
"You've got shadows under your eyes."
You instinctively reached up to touch beneath them. "...They're that obvious?"
He nods. You looked away before he could notice the heat rising to your face. If only he knew why you hadn't slept. If only he knew that every time you'd started drifting off, your mind had replayed the exact moment he'd turned his head. The exact way he'd looked at you. The exact way your heart had forgotten how to beat.
"...You?" You cleared your throat. "Did you sleep okay?"
There was the briefest pause. "...Yeah." He answered almost too casually.
You decided not to dwell on it. Maybe you were just imagining the hesitation. Maybe you were looking for signs that yesterday had affected him as much as it had affected you. You quickly shook the thought away. There wasn't time to overthink.
Without another word, Megumi turned toward the stool in front of the window, just like yesterday. He reached for the hem of his shirt. The familiar rustle of fabric made your heartbeat quicken despite yourself. You immediately busied yourself arranging your pencils.
Professional. Focus on the assignment.
By the time you looked up again, he was already seated.
You nodded. "Yeah, this time..." You dragged your stool a little closer to your easel before sitting down. "I'll sit a bit closer so I don't have to lean over you every five minutes."
Megumi glanced over his shoulder. "...Probably safer."
Your face warmed. "...Yeah."
He turned back around. You lifted your pencil and disappeared into your work. The broad shapes were already finished from yesterday. Now came your favorite part. The details. Tiny changes in light. The subtle shifts in form. Soft transitions between shadow and highlight.
The world around you gradually disappeared. You no longer heard the ceiling fan or the conversations drifting in from outside the window or even the sound of your own breathing. You only saw graphite, and paper.
Completely absorbed in your work, you failed to notice Megumi turning his head ever so slightly. He wasn't looking out the window anymore. He was watching you. The way your brows pinched together whenever you concentrated. The faint graphite smudge that had somehow found its way onto your cheek. The way your tongue peeked out just a little whenever you shaded particularly delicate areas.
He had noticed you doing that weeks ago. You still had no idea. The corners of his mouth lifted almost imperceptibly. He turned forward again before you could catch him. Nearly forty minutes slipped by and finally, you leaned back with a satisfied sigh.
"Done!" A grin spread across your face as you admired the finished study. "I actually..." You looked between the page and Megumi. "...I actually like this one."
"Yeah, just let me—" Before you could finish the sentence, Megumi stood.
He stepped beside your stool and leaned over your shoulder to look at the sketchbook. You froze. His shoulder brushed lightly against the side of your head. Bare skin against your ear. It was such a fleeting contact that it could have been accidental. Yet it sent a jolt through you all the same. You couldn't breathe for a moment. You turned your head instinctively.
His face was already close. Close enough to see the way his long lashes cast tiny shadows beneath his eyes. Close enough that your hands suddenly forgot how to stay steady. Your pencil trembled between your fingers. Your heartbeat thundered so loudly you were convinced he could hear it.
Megumi's gaze lingered on the drawing for another second before drifting toward you. Your eyes met. Neither of you spoke. Then, his eyes flickered downward, towards your hands. Only for a heartbeat, before returning to yours again. A quiet breath escaped through his nose.
Almost...A laugh. Not teasing. Not mocking. Just impossibly soft. The smallest smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Without saying anything, he lifted one hand. Slowly enough that you had every chance to pull away. His fingertips gently brushed a loose strand of hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear with a tenderness that made your chest tighten. His hand lingered for only a moment before falling back to his side.
"...You always end up with your hair in your face."
Your lips parted. "...Oh."
"I figured it would've bothered you while you were drawing."
You stared at him. Unable to think of a single coherent response.
Megumi glanced back down at the sketch. "It turned out really well."
You finally looked at the page again. "...Thanks."
A comfortable silence settled between you. This one felt different. Less awkward. Megumi reached for his shirt, pulling it back over his shoulders before slinging his bag over one shoulder. He paused beside the door.
"I'll see you next week."
You looked up. "...Yeah."
He rested a hand against the doorframe. "Tell me when you get the next assignment." He glanced back over his shoulder, the faintest smile crossing his face. "...Assuming your professor doesn't make things even weirder."
The door clicked shut behind him. You sat there for another minute, staring at the finished drawing. Your fingertips slowly drifted toward the strand of hair he'd tucked behind your ear. You could still remember exactly how gentle he'd been. With a quiet smile, you closed your sketchbook against your chest. There was absolutely no way you were getting any sleep this weekend.
By some miracle, your professor finally decided to have mercy. You didn't realize it until halfway through class. Your professor was pacing at the front of the room, flipping through a stack of papers while everyone half-listened, half-dozed.
That got your attention. You straightened in your seat.
"we'll be shifting focus."
A few students perked up. Your professor set the papers down and wrote across the board in large, deliberate letters.
Midterm Assignment: Portrait Study
You blinked. Then blinked again. "...A portrait?"
That was it. No hands. No muscles. No anatomy. No increasingly specific requests that made asking Megumi for help feel like negotiating a hostage situation. A portrait.
You let out the biggest sigh of relief you'd breathed all week. "Thank goodness."
Tuesday meant psychology. For the first time in what felt like forever, you walked into the lecture hall without feeling like your heart was trying to escape your chest. Megumi was already in his usual seat.
He glanced up as you sat down. "...You're in a good mood."
"Mhm." He closed the book he'd been reading. He tilted his head slightly. "You got a good grade?"
"Oh." You laughed. "No. They haven't been graded yet."
"Then why are you happy?"
You couldn't stop the grin spreading across your face. "This next assignment isn't weird."
Megumi looked mildly confused.
"Exactly." You clasped your hands together dramatically. "No strange anatomy studies. No awkward posing. No spending an hour trying not to make eye contact."
The words left your mouth before you realized what you'd admitted. You coughed into your fist. "I mean..."
Megumi looked away first. "...Yeah." The corner of his mouth twitched. A beat of silence passed before he spoke again.
"...Do you still need me?"
You looked at him. "For the portrait?"
He gave a small shrug. "It's only a portrait."
After class, the two of you followed your now familiar route toward the tables behind the humanities building. From a distance, your heart sank. Every table was occupied. Students were buried beneath textbooks, laptops, and half-empty coffee cups.
"...Seriously?" You looked around hopefully. Not a single seat.
Megumi slipped his hands into his pockets. "The library?"
It wasn't. The moment you stepped inside, you were greeted by the low murmur of dozens of conversations. Every study table was full. Groups of students surrounded whiteboards covered in equations. Someone had claimed an entire booth with nothing but anatomy flashcards.
You sighed. "I forgot it's midterms."
Megumi glanced around. "Everyone's cramming."
You leaned against one of the bookshelves. "The studios are probably just as bad. The painting students, sculpture students, ceramics students...they're all probably fighting over workspace right now."
You rubbed your temple. "So much for finding somewhere quiet."
You stood there for another moment, mentally crossing locations off your list. You let out another defeated sigh. "...I have no idea where else to go."
Megumi was quiet for a second. "...We could go to my apartment."
You looked at him. "...Your apartment?"
Your surprise must have shown because he added,
"My stepdad pays for it."
"The dorms weren't..." He searched for the right word. "...great."
You laughed. "I live in one. They're tiny."
You hesitated. His apartment. Just the two of you. Your brain immediately began imagining every possible reason this was a terrible idea. At the same time, it was probably the only quiet place left on campus.
"Yeah, it's only about a ten minute walk."
You looked at the crowded library one last time before nodding. "...Okay."
It turned out to be even closer than he'd said. Eight minutes. Not that you were counting. Each step somehow made you more aware of where you were going. You'd never been inside another man's apartment before. Not alone. Not like this.
You tried convincing yourself it wasn't a big deal. You were there to draw. Nothing else. But still, your stomach fluttered with every block you passed. Megumi, meanwhile, walked beside you as if this were the most ordinary thing in the world. He pointed toward a brick apartment building tucked just beyond campus.
"...That's close. Must be nice."
"It beats sharing a room."
He almost smiled. The hallway was quiet. Megumi unlocked the door with practiced ease before stepping aside.
You hesitated for the briefest moment. "...Thanks."
You slipped off your shoes and stepped inside. The first thing you noticed wasn't the furniture or the layout. It was how unmistakably...Megumi the apartment felt. Neat without being spotless, books stacked in careful piles instead of shoved onto shelves. A pair of dumbbells tucked neatly beside the couch, a small cactus sitting on the windowsill that looked surprisingly healthy, a black mug left beside the sink.
Everything had its place. It wasn't large but it was warm, comfortable, lived in. You turned slowly, taking it all in before your eyes landed on the framed photograph sitting atop a low bookshelf.
It was Megumi standing between a tall man with white hair and a young dark haired woman with a soft smile.
You caught yourself staring. "...Is that your family?"
Megumi followed your gaze. "...Yeah." His voice softened almost imperceptibly. "My step dad and my older sister."
You smiled. "You look happy."
He looked at the photo for a quiet moment before nodding. "...Yeah."
For some reason, that tiny glimpse into his life made the apartment feel less like a place you'd been invited into...and more like somewhere he'd quietly decided to share with you.
The living room was quiet. Sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, casting soft rectangles of light across the hardwood floor. You glanced around, mentally mapping out the best lighting.
"...The couch should work."
Megumi nodded once before setting his bag by the front door. He sat down, resting one arm along the back of the couch as naturally as if he'd done this a hundred times.
"What do you want me to do?"
You looked up from your sketchbook. "...Just sit there and look pretty." The words left your mouth before your brain had the chance to stop them.
Your eyes widened. Megumi blinked once.
"...I mean—" You covered your face with one hand. "I meant... just... look this way. Oh my god. I didn't mean—I mean, you are—"
You stopped yourself with a groan. "I'm going to pretend I didn't say any of that."
A moment of silence passed.
"...Okay," Megumi replied simply.
He didn't tease you. Didn't laugh. He just adjusted his posture slightly, as though you'd only asked him to look toward the window. You let out a slow breath.
He ignored it. Thank goodness.
What you didn't notice was the faint warmth creeping into the tips of his ears.You busied yourself setting up your things instead. Anything to avoid looking at him. You carried a chair to the opposite side of the room before finally sitting down. Far away. Much farther than you normally would. You flipped open your sketchbook.
"...Why are you sitting all the way over there?"
Megumi was watching you with quiet confusion. "You're pretty far."
You laughed nervously. "Am I?"
"...I thought it'd be fine."
He looked between you and the sketchbook. "...Can you even see me properly?"
"...Not really." You sighed dramatically before standing again. "Fine." You dragged the chair closer. Not too close. Just...closer.
Megumi looked at you for a second. "...That's still kind of far."
You stared at him. You narrowed your eyes before looking at your sketchbook, then back at him.
Before you could ask what he meant, he patted the empty space beside him on the couch.
Your entire body froze. "...There?"
"You'll be able to see better."
"That's..." You couldn't even finish the sentence.
He looked genuinely puzzled. "It's closer."
"You said you couldn't see."
"So..." He gave the cushion another light pat. "...Sit here."
Your heart hammered against your ribs. He had a point. A perfectly logical point. Which somehow made it worse. You walked over as calmly as your trembling legs would allow. The couch dipped slightly beneath your weight as you sat down, leaving what you hoped was a respectable amount of space between the two of you.
It wasn't much. Close enough that, if either of you shifted too far, your shoulders would brush. You kept your eyes firmly on your sketchbook.
Megumi turned toward you. Not just his head but his whole body. One leg folded slightly toward you as he settled into a comfortable pose. You looked up. Then immediately wished you hadn't. He was close. Much closer than he'd ever been before.
The afternoon light spilling through the window softened the sharp lines of his face, catching in the loose strands of dark hair that had fallen across his forehead. You could make out tiny details you'd never noticed from across a table, how long and pretty his eyelashes were, the barely there crease that appeared between his brows when he concentrated, the way his irises were this pretty shade of green that you have never seen before. Your fingers tightened around your pencil.
"...Too close?" Megumi asked.
"N-no." Your answer came much too quickly.
He tilted his head. "...You sound nervous."
"You've been holding your pencil upside down."
You looked down. You had. Without another word, you quietly flipped it around. Megumi's lips twitched. Not quite a smile, but close. You took one slow breath. Then another.
You're an artist. It's just a portrait. It's just Megumi.
Somehow, that last thought made it even harder to steady your hands. You lowered your pencil to the paper. The familiar scratch of graphite finally settled your breathing.
"...Do I just... stay like this?" Megumi asked quietly.
You looked up. "...Yeah."
His eyes met yours again. You immediately looked back down at the page.
"Just... don't move too much."
Silence settled over the apartment. Unlike the studio, there were no distant conversations or footsteps in the hallway. Just the quiet hum of the refrigerator somewhere in the kitchen and the occasional rustle of leaves outside the window. You'd never realized how loud silence could be. Your eyes flickered back to Megumi. This time, you weren't studying muscles or the shape of his hands.
You were drawing him. The slight curve of his eyebrows. The way his bangs fell unevenly across his forehead. The tiny crease that appeared between his brows whenever he focused on staying still. You lightly sketched the outline of his face.
You paused and erased something.
"Oh." You laughed awkwardly. "I do that a lot."
"...It's not because of you."
"It's because..." You frowned at your sketchbook. "...Faces are hard."
Megumi tilted his head just slightly. "I thought hands were harder."
You looked at him for a long moment before answering. "...Hands don't look back at me."
His expression froze for just a fraction of a second. "...Oh."
Realizing what you'd said, your eyes widened. "I mean..."
"You don't have to explain."
"I wasn't trying to make it weird."
"...It's just different," you admitted quietly.
Megumi nodded once. "...Yeah."
For reasons you couldn't explain, that simple agreement made your shoulders relax. Another fifteen minutes passed. This time, your pencil moved with much more confidence. Every so often, you'd glance up. Study his face for a few seconds. Then quickly look back down to sketch what you'd seen. Megumi noticed the pattern.
"You never look for very long."
"You look." He pointed lightly toward his own face. "Then you look away."
The corner of his mouth lifted. "I think you're making that up."
That earned the quietest laugh from him. Barely more than an exhale. Still, it made your own smile appear without permission.
"You smiled." Your pencil stopped.
You looked down at your page.
"...You're imagining things."
You narrowed your eyes at him. "...You moved."
"I smiled." He lightly argued.
"My fault?" Your eyebrows shot to the sky.
"You told me not to move."
"I didn't think smiling counted."
You stared at him. "...You cannot be serious."
His face remained perfectly straight. "...I am."
You laughed. A real laugh this time. The kind that made your shoulders shake. Megumi watched you quietly. For a moment, he forgot he was supposed to be holding still.
"I figured out why portraits are harder."
You tilted your head. "Why?"
His gaze lingered on yours for a second before drifting toward the half finished sketch resting on your lap.
You looked down at the drawing. The version of Megumi on your page wore the same calm expression he'd started with but sometime during the last half hour, he'd smiled. Twice. The crease between his brows had disappeared. His eyes had softened. Without realizing it, you'd been drawing the person he'd become while sitting with you not the one he'd been when the session started.
You looked back up. "...Stay like that."
"Because now I have to redraw half your face." You say with a cheeky smile.
For the first time all afternoon, Megumi smiled without trying to hide it. "...Sorry."
You groaned dramatically, already reaching for your eraser. "I liked the first version better."
"You mean the one that looked grumpy?"
"...That's kind of mean."
"It wasn't supposed to be a compliment."
"...I know." His smile lingered anyway.
Your pencil finally found its rhythm. Every few seconds, your eyes lifted to study him before dropping back to the page. Megumi stayed still. At least, he tried to.
"...Am I doing it wrong?"
"You've erased the same eye three times."
You looked down. "...Have I?...That's not because of you." You laughed quietly. "I can't decide where the light should go."
He glanced toward the window. "It hasn't changed."
Your pencil paused. You looked up. He was already looking at you.
He didn't answer right away. Instead, he held your gaze for another second before speaking.
"...You're doing that thing again."
"You look at me and then you immediately look away."
Heat crept into your cheeks. "I have to."
"Because if I keep looking..." You stopped yourself.
"...I lose my train of thought."
Silence settled between you again. The apartment suddenly felt very small. You forced yourself to keep drawing and glance upward again. Only this time, Megumi wasn't looking at the sketchbook anymore. He was watching you.
"...You're supposed to look over here," you mumbled, gesturing vaguely toward the wall behind you.
"No..." You tried not to smile. "I mean somewhere over my shoulder."
"...Right." He obediently shifted his gaze toward the window. "...Better?"
"Mhm." You exhaled softly. "Thanks."
Another few minutes passed. The portrait was nearly finished. Only the eyes remained. They were always the hardest part.
"I need you to look at me now."
He met your gaze fully this time. You swallowed. Your pencil hovered above the paper. Nothing happened. It refused to move.
You laughed nervously. "I forgot how to draw."
"The portrait's almost finished."
There was a moment of silence.
You nodded. "They're important."
He was quiet for a moment. "...Why?"
"Because..." You looked at him again. "...If the eyes are wrong..." You smiled sheepishly. "...It won't feel like you."
Something softened in Megumi's expression. Not dramatically. Just enough that the serious line of his mouth relaxed.
You leaned in just a little. Only enough to study the details you couldn't quite make out from where you sat. The faint ring of green around his irises. The way the afternoon light reflected in them. The tiny scar hidden beneath his bangs near his temple. You were so focused that you didn't realize how close you'd become. Neither did he.
"...You have graphite." His voice came quietly.
Without thinking, he reached up. His fingertips brushed lightly against your cheek. A tiny streak of gray transferred onto the pad of his thumb. The touch lasted barely a second and neither of you moved. His hand lingered on your cheek.
Your breath stilled. You slowly looked from his eyes to his lips. When you looked back up, he was already looking at yours. The room was silent. No ticking clock, no voices from the hallway. Only the sound of your own heartbeat.
"...Can I..." Megumi's voice was almost a whisper.
He didn't finish the question. He didn't need to. You answered by closing the last inch between you.
The kiss started hesitant, soft, almost careful but the moment your lips fully met, something in Megumi shifted. His hand went to back of your neck, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened fast. He kissed you with quiet intensity, tongue sliding against yours, slow and deliberate at first, then growing bolder. You melted into it immediately, hands fisting in his shirt as he pulled you closer, half into his lap.
What began as a single kiss quickly turned into something more intense. Megumi angled his head, kissing you harder, deeper, like all the weeks of restraint were finally spilling over. His tongue explored your mouth with focused hunger, stroking and teasing in ways that made heat flood through you. One of his arms wrapped firmly around your waist, pressing your body flush against his chest while his other hand stayed buried in your hair. He tasted like the faint sweetness of tea and something distinctly him, and every slow, heated glide of his tongue left you dizzy.
You kissed him back just as eagerly, fingers threading through his dark hair and tugging lightly. He responded with a low, barely audible sound that vibrated against your lips, encouraging you. The kiss grew messier. Megumi’s hand slipped beneath the hem of your shirt, palm warm against your lower back as he held you possessively closer. He tilted his head the other way, capturing your mouth again in a deep, consuming kiss that made your thoughts scatter completely.
After several long, heated minutes, you finally broke apart just enough to breathe. Your foreheads stayed pressed together, lips still brushing.
"...I don't think that was part of the assignment," you murmured, voice shaky with a mix of nerves and lingering heat.
The corner of Megumi's mouth lifted into the smallest smile. "...Probably not."
The brief moment of lightness didn’t last. His dark eyes flicked back to your lips, and the hunger returned. He leaned in again, kissing you deeply, tongue immediately seeking yours with renewed intensity. This time his hand slid further up your back, pulling you tighter against him while his mouth moved with slow, deliberate passion.
Megumi trailed hot kisses from your lips to your jaw, then down the side of your neck, pressing open mouthed kisses against your skin before returning to your mouth. He was breathing hard, cheeks faintly flushed, and hair disheveled from your fingers, but he didn’t stop.
When the intensity finally eased into something slower, Megumi rested his forehead fully against yours, eyes half-closed. His arms remained wrapped around you, holding you close as if he had no intention of letting go anytime soon. The sketchbook lay forgotten on the floor, the portrait completely abandoned but almost finished.
“I mean it,” he said quietly, voice rough from the kisses, lips brushing yours with every word. “I wouldn’t have kept helping with your assignments if I didn’t like you this much. I don’t do any of this… unless it’s you.”
He pressed one last, lingering kiss to your swollen lips, then another, softer but still deep. The room had grown dimmer with the fading sunlight, but neither of you moved. Megumi simply held you there, occasionally brushing his lips against yours in lazy, contented kisses, content to stay tangled up together for as long as the moment would allow.