Archive of Our Own

Fushiguro yawned sleepily, stretching the soreness out of his muscles. Itadori watched from the corner of the bathroom, toothbrush busily working at his molars. 

He smiled warmly, as Fushiguro started changing into his sleep shirt—a comfy and oversized black band t-shirt that Itadori swore came from his own closet. Upon seeing a familiar small fray at the hem that marked it as one of Itadori's shirts, Itadori shook his head fondly, going back to the sink to rinse out his mouth. 

"It's cold," Fushiguro called out as Itadori started washing his face. "Should I bring over my comforter too?"

"You sure we'll need it?" Itadori blindly called back over the sound of the faucet running. "Aren't you always complaining about me overheating us both?"

"Good point," Fushiguro conceded. Itadori heard the door creak open as he patted his face dry. 

"Yes?" Itadori asked, when it seemed like Fushiguro wasn't going to come in. "If you need to pee, go to your own bathroom!"

"I don't need to pee," Fushiguro said defensively. "Is it a crime to stand here?"

"Ooooh I see what's happening," Itadori cooed, whipping around. "Is somebody being needy–" A flung towel caught Itadori in the face before he could finish his sentence. "Rude!"

"Hurry up," Fushiguro huffed, to hide his own smile. "I'm cold." 

Itadori worked hard to contain his squeal of adoration, lest Fushiguro clam up in an attempt to deny it. "Aww babe… you can be so cute sometimes."

Fushiguro flushed a little bit, the tips of his ears and tops of his cheeks going pink. He didn't leave, however, and Itadori wound his arms around him in a tight bear hug. It was nice being the same height; Fushiguro could easily snuggle his face into the space between Itadori's neck and hoodie.

"You smell nice," Fushiguro murmured, nosing into Itadori's damp hair. Itadori smiled, relaxing into the hug. "Did you get a new body wash?"

"Mmhm. It's oranges and some other stuff. Almonds? I'd have to check." 

"S'nice," Fushiguro repeated, burrowing closer. He started walking them both towards the bed and Itadori let himself be led, plopping down on top of the thick comforter. Nanami had recommended it to him—the synthetic down was both light and extremely insulating, enough to keep both of them cozy through the brutal winter. It was currently raining, but the forecast predicted snow, which got Itadori excited. 

Fushiguro just didn't see the magic. For someone born in winter, he was awfully sensitive to cold. Case in point, he was the first one under the blankets, only the tips of his unruly hair peeking out. 

"Can you crank up the space heater?" Fushiguro's muffled voice requested from the depths of his protective cocoon. Itadori rolled his eyes but kindly did as he was told. "Thank you," Fushiguro intoned solemnly and Itadori laughed as he dove under the blankets to wiggle into his space. 

Fushiguro yelped, jerking away. "Your toes are FREEZING."

"They're in socks!" Itadori jammed them further into Fushiguro's calves to prove it, resulting in a brief power struggle as Fushiguro fought for his life and Itadori fought to be a little shit.

"I hate you," Fushiguro mumbled when he finally gave up, and allowed Itadori to warm his feet on his defeated body. "This was NOT why I decided to sleep over." 

"Yeah, yeah, sure," Itadori rolled Fushiguro into his arms, readjusting until Fushiguro's head was comfortably settled on his chest. Itadori's arm was guaranteed to go numb before the night was through, but hearing his heartbeat soothed Fushiguro for some reason. 

He kissed the top of Fushiguro's head, detangling a few spikes before scratching at his scalp soothingly. Fushiguro always melted into that, leg tossed over Itadori's hips, body warming up as they cuddled. 

Itadori loved that.  

"Are you sore?" Fushiguro asked, massaging where a particularly large bruise was blooming after training with Maki. 

Evidently she'd gotten a little too excited about someone finally being able to keep up with her—Itadori can still feel where Maki almost kicked in half his ribcage, if he hadn't twisted fast enough to neutralize the force. Terrifyingly accurate and brutal, as usual.

"A little," Itadori conceded, deciding not to dwell on near death experiences. "But nothing too bad. How's your ankle?"

"Fine," Fushiguro rolled it experimentally, wincing only a little. He'd sprained it last week wrenching it out of the jaws of a level one curse.

Stubbornly, Fushiguro had only accepted minimal healing from Ieiri-sensei, insisting it wasn't worth sparing cursed energy on. Itadori knew he'd only said that because Kugisaki's left arm and hand had been torn to shreds on the same mission—all those delicate little nerves were much more complicated to heal. Fushiguro was always thoughtful like that, even if Itadori wished he would just be a little more selfish sometimes. 

Itadori massaged comforting circles into Fushiguro's ankle with his thumb as they catalogued each other's small hurts. 

Life as a jujutsu sorcerer was unbearably hard at times, but Itadori tried to soften that for Fushiguro whenever he could. Moments like these were what got them through the times when Itadori didn't know how he was going to get through the next few minutes, hours, or days. 

"I love you," Fushiguro murmured abruptly, tightening his arms. It wasn't exactly rare to hear him say it, but there was always a little whisper of vulnerability whenever he clung to Itadori this way. 

He was always so scared to lose Itadori again. 

"I love you too," Itadori whispered, in answer to the concealed grief he could hear. He tightened his arms around Fushiguro's waist. "I'm here, Megumi... I'm here. We're okay."

Fushiguro drew back to look at him. 

Most of the time Itadori gazed into Fushiguro's eyes, it was for happy reasons. 

Because he was admiring them. 

Because they were leaning in to kiss. 

Because he was trying to see if they were green or blue. 

This time it was to read how much Fushiguro wasn't saying. When they were this close, Itadori could see the pained scrunch of his face, narrowed irises obscured by thick lashes.

Fushiguro's little nod broke Itadori's heart. "I know. I just hate that there's so much we have no say over." 

Itadori touched foreheads with Fushiguro, letting the contact ground them both. 

"I know," he said sorrowfully. "But I'm here. That's as much as I can give. I'm here right now and I love you too."

"That's enough for me," Fushiguro promised.

"Good." Itadori kissed him and felt Fushiguro's lips lift up into a faint smile against his. "Promise I'll still be here in the morning too. Hey, I can make us lunch tomorrow, how's that sound? We have leftover shogayaki! Maybe we can make onigiri with it." 

Fushiguro seemed to debate on this a bit before sinking back into Itadori's chest. "Yeah, I'd like that. We haven't had a day to ourselves in a while, huh?" 

Itadori resumed his stroking of Fushiguro's shoulder. 

"Just us," Itadori agreed. He could feel Fushiguro smile into his chest, tucking the blankets closer in on them both. 

"Okay." Fushiguro sounded a bit more settled. 

Nothing was fixed, of course, but then again, not all things could be. If he thought too much or too hard about all the things that were out of their control…

It was just for the best that he didn't. Itadori generally tried to focus on what was going right.

Simply getting to fall asleep together was such a treat. Even waking up on a weekend—like they were about to do tomorrow—with no classes, trainings, or missions…

Nestled comfortably against the liquid warmth of Fushiguro's body, Itadori allowed his guard to go down, watching Fushiguro's shoulders rise and fall in the dark. He slowed his breaths, let his mind wander, and held Fushiguro close. 

He must have fallen asleep, because eventually he became aware of waking up to rain continuing to pelt against their windows. It was a nice surprise. He felt heavy, still drowsy, and nosed deeper into his pillow. 

Itadori distantly became aware of a palm gently running up and down his back, fingers counting the bumps down his spine. He must've flipped onto his stomach sometime during the night. Fushiguro continued scratching his back and Itadori yawned happily into his stretch. 

"Mmm… Goo' morning."

"Good morning," Fushiguro whispered back. His hair was a mess, his collarbone peeking out from where his shirt draped. Itadori wanted to bite him. "It's a little after nine. You could sleep in some more." 

"Mhmm," Itadori said distractedly, already scooting in closer. His lips found the warmth of Fushiguro's neck and he started sucking, absently pressing their bodies together. He could feel the skin of Fushiguro's stomach, soft and sleep-warm, from where his shirt was riding up. Itadori sleepily pushed up the hem, letting his hands roam as he felt Fushiguro's muscles tense in anticipation beneath his palms. Fushiguro's hands immediately went and did the same, slipping under Itadori's shirt to feel up his pecs. 

"Did you sleep okay," he murmured, pulling back when Fushiguro's breathing changed. He could feel how turned on Fushiguro was in the peak of his nipples, the hard warmth of him outlined against Itadori's thigh. His pupils were blown behind half closed eyes. 

"I slept fine." Fushiguro smirked. "Even had a sex dream."

"Oh? About who?" Itadori asked pseudo-innocently, skimming one hand over Fushiguro's waist.

"I wonder," Fushiguro mused sarcastically, palming Itadori through his sleep pants. If Itadori hadn't been awake, he certainly was now. He slipped his hand down Fushiguro's boxer briefs and started tracing around the head with one thumb. Fushiguro moaned outright and all bets were off. 

He would've been content to finish that way, slow and lazy hands wrapped around each other's lengths. At least, until Fushiguro reached over to the nightstand drawer with his free hand, and led Itadori's hand to slip between his legs with the other. 

"Oh?" Itadori raised his eyebrow, propping himself up with interest. He stroked between Fushiguro's thighs, rubbing gently. "You sure you're up for it?" 

"You complaining? Ugh, the lube is freezing," Fushiguro muttered, slipping the bottle into the blankets to warm it up. "Give it a minute." 

"Fine with me," Itadori said cheerfully, slipping the rest of Fushiguro's clothes off and pulling his own shirt over his head. "Stay under the blanket, you'll get cold."

Being naked against Fushiguro always felt amazing, especially when it was first thing in the morning. Itadori took his time running hands all over his skin as Fushiguro busily sucked a huge mark into Itadori's shoulder. It didn't take long before Itadori's hand was busy dipping and stroking into the slick, wet heat of Fushiguro's body. 

"Take as long as you want, baby," Itadori whispered, kissing the side of his temple. He twisted his wrist just so and Fushiguro gave a shivery moan. "I'm here all day."

"Not gonna take much longer if you keep doing that," Fushiguro gritted his teeth as Itadori kept searching around for all the places inside that got a reaction. Itadori liked to take his time escalating, heedless of his own needs. It was fun teasing and edging Fushiguro, who just wanted Itadori inside him as soon as possible. "Yuuji."

"Hmm?" Itadori hummed, unhurriedly circling one nipple with the tip of his tongue before taking it in his mouth. He smirked when he heard Fushiguro's gasp. 

"H-hey, asshole."

Hah. "Did you want something?"

"I want you," Fushiguro whispered crossly, not a trace of joking in his voice. Itadori felt himself throb and yeah, he could get on board with that.  

When Itadori slipped inside, they both groaned loudly, crushing themselves to each other as Itadori pressed deep. Fushiguro felt silky and fever-warm and so good Itadori had to force himself to a quivering stop for a moment just to take it all in. He could feel him everywhere and the clutch of his body inside was absolutely perfect, complete bliss in the snug way they fit together. Fushiguro, who craved friction like a crazed fiend, let them have a few seconds before rolling his hips in a way that made Itadori screw his eyes shut in awe. 

Itadori started to pull out, slow and controlled, to let Fushiguro's body get used to the stretch. Itadori was addicted to the first few thrusts where their bodies were still adjusting to each other, where every pull back dragged and every push in felt a little too much. 

Fushiguro got loud, and God, his voice. It completely changed when they did this together; no longer a cool tenor, but smoky and rough. Eventually Fushiguro got used to the girth, suddenly crashing into Itadori's hips with his own. Itadori was never more grateful for his own stamina than he was in those moments. 

They switched positions a few times, no longer caring about the cold air in the room–Itadori pressed against the long line of Fushiguro's back, mouthing at the back of his neck; Fushiguro riding on top of Itadori like a wave, thighs lifting him in smooth and controlled movements; Fushiguro on all fours before being knocked onto his elbows as Itadori's hands fitted themselves into the cradle of his hips as he rammed forward. 

Time lost all meaning when they both finished, Fushiguro's long legs wrapped around Itadori like a dream, clenching tight as he refused to let Itadori pull out. He didn't even seem to care about the state of his stomach and upper chest, panting too hard to even pretend to reach for a tissue.  

"Stay," Fushiguro insisted, even though Itadori felt like he was overheating by about a billion degrees and melting as they spoke. To compromise, he threw the blankets away from them, but remained on top of Fushiguro. He let their skin cool off in the cold air that he could barely feel anymore because all of him was so damn warm and sticky and satisfied. 

He nosed into Fushiguro's throat again, sucking contentedly at an unfinished hickey. Fushiguro didn't even complain, curling around Itadori to sink them into the pillows. 

"I don't want to leave the bed today," Fushiguro decided casually and Itadori had to concede that he had a great point there. “But I’m starving.” 

"You’re so demanding," Itadori wheezed anyways, just to be difficult, poking him in the side. “At least let me catch my breath first. Sex with you is hard work, you know.”

"Says the guy who takes over an hour to come," Fushiguro stated incredulously, blindly groping around the nightstand in search of wet wipes. "I'm about to pass out right here."

He seized the opportunity to escape while Fushiguro was busy being indignant. Fushiguro's breath hitched with overstimulation as they separated, closing his thighs to prevent a mess and– You know what, it was probably best not to focus on that if Itadori wanted to avoid getting roped back into bed. 

"Yeah, you're welcome." Itadori rolled his eyes, stretching his back until he heard a satisfying pop in his lower vertebrae. "And make up your mind, are you hungry or sleepy?"

"Both," Fushiguro sighed. He snorted when Itadori made indignant eye contact. "What? Aren't you?"

Itadori's stomach rumbling answered for them both. "Well, I guess it has been a while since we woke up… And we definitely got in some exercise… I don't know though, do you think you could hold out long enough for me to make us something?"

"What's the other option?" Fushiguro inquired, finally using both arms to locate the correct drawer. He ended up throwing the whole box of wet wipes onto the bed, rather than get up. Impressive.  

"I guess we could go out, if it doesn't start snowing? Get something to eat from town." 

Fushiguro frowned, wiping down his chest. "Too cold. Besides, I don't think it'll stop raining any time soon. I also don't know if I'm in a state to be walking anywhere," he added wryly. 

Itadori blushed, accepting a wet wipe from Fushiguro. "R-right. Well, let's get cooking then. It'll go faster with the two of us. Maybe we can eat a snack while we wait." 

"Okay." Fushiguro looked at Itadori, appearing to critically think for a moment, before stating, "You should fix your hair. We're a little… obvious."

Itadori laughed. "Yours is worse. I guess we should change the sheets too. Later, though. Let's eat in your room?" 

"Good idea."

After much fussing, Itadori coaxed them both into brushing their teeth and showering in his room. Fushiguro relented, going to grab toiletries from his own bathroom. 

The single occupancy shower was hardly big enough to fit the two of them, but they made it work. They took turns under the warm spray as each soaped up and shampooed. It was a very tight squeeze–both of their elbows knocked into the tiles on accident, with Itadori at times fully pressed against Fushiguro’s back. 

Undeterred, he wrapped his arms around Fushiguro’s waist, enjoying the warm water cascading off them. He idly wondered how it tasted on Fushiguro's skin. 

Trying to be smooth, Itadori placed his lips on Fushiguro’s trapezius muscle, only to get a mouthful of suds for his troubles. Itadori dramatically spat them out and Fushiguro’s laughter bounced off the narrow walls as Fushiguro turned to face him. 

As tired as he claimed to be, Fushiguro helped Itadori rinse off, using the suds as an elaborate excuse to keep touching him… all over. Itadori hummed happily, oblivious, dropping lazy little kisses onto his face.

They ended up kissing for a while as Itadori kneaded at Fushiguro's heat-relaxed muscles. The one good thing Jujutsu Tech ever did for them was have great shower pressure and unlimited hot water. Man, call him a simp, but Itadori could do this for hours. Just this. He's a simple man. 

Fushiguro leaned into it, his hands sliding into Itadori's dewy undercut, displacing water droplets as they went. He noticed Fushiguro smiling each time they parted for breath, which just made Itadori kiss him harder.

Maybe it was Itadori’s fault. Maybe he was signaling things he didn’t mean to be signaling. But the thought never even occurred to Itadori that Fushiguro still had any horny energy left in him. No, Itadori was a good person, one who believed the things people said at face value. 

So when Fushiguro gave up all pretense and kneeled down, Itadori’s innocent response was “Babe? Did you drop somethi… oh… ohhh–oh MY GOD. ” 

Itadori clung onto the shampoo shelf for dear life. 

Fushiguro had no right to look that smug as he gripped Itadori’s thighs for balance, going down on him like they hadn’t just had sex ten minutes ago.

Bless his boyfriend’s refractory period, but how on earth was Itadori’s dick supposed to get with the program? 

“M-Megumi, ahh…” Fushiguro wasn’t stopping, stroking and mouthing and licking away. He ignored the water running in rivulets down his face, lashes spiked with humidity, half lidded gaze not breaking away from Itadori's. Damn. Itadori found himself at half-mast again and gave a shuddering exhale. "Holy shit…"  

Fushiguro's forwardness was melting Itadori's mind, it was so hot. There was just one problem. 

"Babe, I… I don’t know if I can get it up aga–”

Then, Fushiguro closed his eyes and did something with his tongue that effectively wiped Itadori’s brain clean, and nope, HAHA everything was fine, Itadori was good to go. 

They somehow found themselves back in bed, barely dried off, with Fushiguro riding him within an inch of his life AGAIN. The nerve of Fushiguro to make fun of Itadori's stamina when his own was like a machine. Itadori could feel it in the flexing of Fushiguro's thighs and ass, the sheer power and stability in his core. 

He couldn’t believe how wet Fushiguro still was inside. They didn't even need lube. Itadori got rock-hard at the realization and Fushiguro could definitely feel it because he rocked himself deeper with a satisfied moan. Itadori's few bursts of coherent thought in between blinding waves of horniness sounded like: I want to keep him this way, maybe all day, is that possible, I love him so much, maybe we should buy a plug–

Fushiguro’s sudden wince and stagger brought him back to attention. Itadori, despite being disoriented, immediately reached up to pause them both, hands instinctively steadying Fushiguro’s hips. 

"Megumi?” Itadori sat up in concern when there wasn't an answer. “Hey, what's wrong? Too sore? Should we stop?" 

"No... It's my ankle," Fushiguro grumbled regretfully, easing into Itadori's hands. He shifted again.

“Ah, we must’ve been putting too much weight on it…” Itadori bit his lip guiltily. “Does it hurt?” 

It took a while for Fushiguro to answer. “... A little.” 

He sounded disappointed, clearly expecting Itadori to put a stop to things. Normally, that was exactly what Itadori would do, mother-hen instincts erasing any traces of sexiness. But... Well. It was rare when Fushiguro put himself out there like he did earlier. He could tell Fushiguro was feeling confident and sexy and a little mischievous today. 

Itadori liked it, and he knew Fushiguro liked feeling that way too. Itadori stared at him in deliberation until Fushiguro met his eyes again.

"... Lay back for me, then."  

He didn’t regret it with the way Fushiguro immediately brightened. Itadori’s hands cradled Fushiguro's neck and lower back as he flipped their positions. He carefully maneuvered Fushiguro's ankle to a better spot, massaging it gently. "Just relax. Let me take care of you." 

"But you always do all th–" Fushiguro's protest cut out into a stifled moan as Itadori ground in slow and hard at just the right angle. Fuck, he felt so good. Fushiguro’s knuckles immediately whitened on Itadori's shoulders. "Yuuji," he breathed.

"It's okay." Itadori pressed a kiss to his hairline. "I want to. You're good to me too." 

Itadori kept the pace fairly gentle as his other hand reached down to stroke Fushiguro. Itadori grinned as Fushiguro’s whole body tensed below him. Itadori rolled his hips, concentrating on finding that spot inside, guided by Fushiguro’s shivery breaths before they sharpened into a high, involuntary gasp. 

There it is. 

Itadori kept putting relentless pressure on that spot as Fushiguro’s eyes screwed shut, lashes full and trembling, a whine building at the back of his throat. 

It was different from the frantic energy of earlier. Itadori focused on overwhelming him with sensations, making each movement count. He pumped his fist loosely around Fushiguro, matching it with his strokes. He closed his mouth around Fushiguro’s nipple, flicking his tongue, before sucking hard. Itadori kept up the steady barrage of stimulation until the involuntary clench of Fushiguro's body around Itadori's signaled the beginning of the end. 

"A-ahh…! H-hn...." Itadori knew that pitch. He knew to keep doing exactly what he was doing. Not a second later, Fushiguro's entire body locked up and he came apart with a shattered noise. God, Itadori would never get tired of that. It was so hot every time Fushiguro's hands tightened in the sheets. Normally, Itadori would let Fushiguro ride this out, but he was human and the sight of Fushiguro vulnerable and wracked with pleasure had brought the fire in him back to a roar. The thought occurred to him… Fushiguro'd always said that he was open to being fucked through an orgasm. 

Without thinking on it further, Itadori's hands flew to Fushiguro's hips and pinned them to the bed. Fushiguro's eyes flew open, wildly searching for Itadori's gaze as he shifted Fushiguro right where he wanted him. The answering grip around Itadori's waist as Fushiguro's thighs locked them together was all the encouragement he needed. Itadori spared a second to shoot Fushiguro an adoring smile. He was always so good for him. Then, Itadori slammed in so powerfully that Fushiguro's back lifted off the bed. 

"FUCK!" Fushiguro almost screamed, head straining back as he arched.

There it was.

"H-hah… ahh- AHH-" His voice cracked and that just threw gasoline onto an already raging fire as far as Itadori was concerned. The begging only made it worse. "Please please please f-fuck FUCK don't stop-"

Itadori's body was practically dead to the world at this point, mindlessly jackhammering into that insanely perfect tight heat. He had no idea how much time passed, but when it hit, it HIT. Itadori was gone. Physically he could feel himself pulsing, but mentally and spiritually? GONE.  

When he came back to himself, Fushiguro was panting underneath him, twitchy with overstimulation as he tried to regulate his breathing. 

That was… That was fucking amazing. Itadori just came so hard he forgot his own name. And while Fushiguro miraculously must have had a dry orgasm, from the looks of it, Itadori’s definitely hadn’t been. 

Holy shit. They were going to ruin the sheets if he pulled out right now. 

Oh well, Itadori thought as both their breathing calmed down and they relaxed into that full body boneless feeling. There's worse problems to have. Itadori bit his lip, and carefully eased out, remembering they were doing laundry anyways. 

“Oh…” Fushiguro breathed in dazed surprise, and Itadori raised his eyebrow quizzically. “... That’s new.”

“What is?”

Fushiguro slowly went from healthily flushed to bright red without answering. Interesting, Itadori thought in a haze. How he could feel embarrassed–after being so aggressively horny–was anyone's guess.

Fushiguro hid his face in Itadori's chest, finally remembering his shyness. Itadori's arm instinctively came up to pull Fushiguro closer. He rubbed soothingly up and down Fushiguro's back while they both floated back into the buzzy numbness of their limbs. Eventually Fushiguro peered up at Itadori through his lashes and mumbled “… I can feel it running down my thighs.” 

There was dead silence as Itadori's brain processed that sentence and finally fully shut down. Itadori dislodged Fushiguro and rolled away, face-first into his pillow, in a final act of self defense.

"Hey!" Fushiguro prodded at him, indignant at the loss of his headrest. 

“Holy fuck, Megumi,” Itadori groaned into the pillow. He felt his dick threaten his life with another miserable twitch. “You’re going to kill me. Are you trying to kill me? What did I DO?”

“What are you being dramatic for? You caused it!"

"Not helping!"

"... I like it," Fushiguro said, a small grin in his voice as he shifted closer. Itadori howled and buried himself further into the pillow. "What are you going to do? Wait there until it's over?" Fushiguro sounded a little too pleased as he said it, riling Itadori up even more. 

"Yes! Please make it go away!" Itadori pleaded. "Please do it before my dick falls off. I can't take it anymore."

"You're so easy," Fushiguro deadpanned, and Itadori could hear the sounds of him mercifully rummaging the nightstand to make himself decent. "You're going to have to help me get to the bathroom. My ankle, remember? Also my lower back is killing me." 

"Okay," Itadori mumbled. "Later."

Fushiguro thankfully decided to stop being a menace, laying his cheek patiently onto Itadori’s back, and slinging one arm over his body. Itadori accepted the afterglow cuddles, deeming it safe enough to poke his nose out from under the pillow for air. 

Everything smelled like sex, but also the citrus-zesty steam from their shower, and also the toasty smell of the heater chugging away. Cold rain was still pattering away on the roof and the glass sliding door. Itadori liked the way his body wash smelled on Fushiguro. 

Sometimes, life could be good. Sometimes, he got to have this. Itadori settled in, finally comfortable and allowing himself to relax. 

The peace lasted for all of five minutes. 

"I'm starving," Fushiguro announced right into Itadori's ear. Itadori couldn't help but laugh.