Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There is a lot of Yuuji that people misconstrue. If he were to rank in order the common misconceptions about him, it would take him days to fully get on with the list. It's partly because he's too lazy to even jot down lecture notes during idle classes– but it's mainly because there are so many presumed categories associated with him that Yuuji simply does not fit in. And the categories that do align with how he truly is are less likely to be believed in.

For one, people assume instantly that he is an alpha. He's athletic, able to rival betas in impromptu marathons and baseball games. He's also lean enough to carry weights and boast flexing muscles. But Yuuji's figure is predominantly omega. He never grows beyond the expected height, flaunts a frame that's too lanky when compared to alphas and has wider hips to accommodate for the babies eager to grow in his uterus.   

The second misconception that is evidently the most agreed upon by many, is that Yuuji is a sexually-liberated heathen who enjoys fickle affairs. In truth, he is discomfited by capricious relationships and dislikes too much sexual intimacy. He is a prude through and through– a pure church-boy who lives by Jesus' standards, as he is often nicknamed by his close friends. 

Sukuna, the primary taunter of his religiously-intact chastity, can attest to that truth. In fact, if you were to muster adequate courage to ask him about his brother's virgin status, you'd be subjected to an earful of adjectives cackling about his prissy, puritanical approach to sex. That is, of course, after he beats the living shit out of you for even the slightest implication of your interest for his sibling. Sukuna is paradoxical, so best be attuned to his volatile temperament. Better yet, don't ask him about Yuuji if you don't want to trigger the wrath of an overprotective brother.

Now to the third, a notion that Yuuji will not go to excessive lengths to explain because it's easily understandable when you've read the inner ramblings he'd just listed – Yuuji is into partying. Yes, you've read it correctly. Partying. For some absurd reason, sexual activity is often paired with two cases of beer, a blinking floor and a crowd of hollering idiots at the peak of the evening glow. It's almost as if partying is exclusively for sex (as proven to how quickly number two and three assumptions caused Yuuji's misguided reputation). For Sukuna, that may be the case. Yuuji finds it hardly believable that two "fun" (it's debatable when in the company of jittery introverts) activities could correlate so well and so tightly that there's not a chance for indecision. 

Partying, as Sukuna phrases obscenely, is like a wilderness where animals let loose and fuck until sunrise. Chousou terms it more properly as "a thing licentious adults are absurdly obsessed with", but the idea still maintains its vulgar implications. Perhaps to keep Yuuji out of the so-called corruptions of the unfeeling world.

"Not everyone who parties are expected to fuck, Yuuji. Some just wanna dance to generic beats so they can forget about shitty professors and dwindling midterm grades."  Nobara doesn't even spare his brothers' words a minute of contemplation when she tells Yuuji this. She, just like most of Yuuji's peers, is a certified party animal who values her self-defined grandiosity. She refuses to acknowledge that partying could solely be for reckless debauchery and slippery lip-locking. To her, partying is a time with friends to revel in some good old indulgence that does not require dry-humping the nearest stranger to your right.

"A recreational venture."  She says. "You drink shit, talk about shit, laugh about shit and pray to god you're not drunk enough to forget to videotape your dumbass friend when they're vomiting their guts out."

It's bonding time – to be concise. And it's the only reason Yuuji has ever entertained the idea of going to a party. Though, Megumi's wicked plans of dragging him into such a mess to avoid suffering alone were admittedly the primary reason why Yuuji is even here to begin with.

By here, he means stuck in the corner of some fancy VIP lounge (courtesy to Megumi's weeping wallet and Nobara's rich girlfriend), downing his third glass of coke while the rest of the room vibrate like it's the goddamn end-of-the-world earthquake. 

"Would you like a different beverage?"

– oh yeah, there's also a guy badgering him for a conversation he so vehemently declines to take part in. The stranger is burly. Too haughty, too crass, and too alpha-ish. Yuuji doesn't like him one bit. And Yuuji likes everyone.

"No thank you, I'm fine with my..." Yuuji examines his drink. He hasn't sipped on it for a while so he wants to be sure it isn't spiked with anything suspicious. Chousou had advised him much too frequently about the perils of incaution that it's made Yuuji more attentive to even the trivial stuff. "...coke. Yeah, I'll stick with this one."

"Come on, it's a Saturday night. Have some fun." The man cajoles. He presses himself closer, the acrid scent of his sweat an intrusive offence to Yuuji's nose. "What do you want? Tequila? Don't hold back, it's my treat."

Yuuji is patient when he tries to dissuade the brazen advances. He gestures a palm, a clear sign of rejection. "I'd rather not. I'm the driver for this evening, you see. My friends, well, they..." 

He ponders for an excuse, already unsure of how to proceed now that he's lied ever passing his driving test. Yuuji failed most of his lessons when he was 16. And when Sukuna had begrudgingly offered to help him, he hadn't had enough confidence to continue then. He isn't sure how he's going to succeed with such a ruse when he's barely able at convincing his teachers to give him a passing grade.  

"The boy says no, Toshi. Learn to read signals." There's a voice, handsome with its intonation, and it interrupts loudly from across them. One glance and Yuuji is accosted by the gleaming sheen of silver snow. The man is tall, resplendent. Well-dressed. Noticeably moneyed. Muscular in all the right places and posture dignified. When he trudges further from out of the neon's glow, Yuuji could pick up the aroma of control. Alpha, he surmises instinctively. 

"Gojo," The man glued to his left acknowledges, albeit grudgingly. He reclines on his seat as an act of defiance. Tilting a chin, he challenges, "Always up for the vulture's role, huh?"

Yuuji scowls. Was he just regarded as a scrap? A carcass up for anyone's taking? Oh, the nerve!

"I'd watch my tone if I were you." The alpha, Gojo, strolls ahead the passing crowd and towers over Toshi. He's suave and fashionable with his silver-rimmed black glasses, cool as he nudges the alpha's shin and claims the centre of the couch. The action inevitably results in Yuuji squeezed between the chair's armrest and the man's side. Neither men spare him a glance. 

"What's it to you, shitty snowman?"

Gojo snorts at the insult. "Snowman? Heh, creative." The man leans on the backrest and breathes out a chuckle. Casually, throws an arm over Yuuji's shoulder. "But just so you know, the boy you're hitting on right now is Sukuna's brother."

Yuuji flinches. And so does the man on the other end. "You're shitting me right?"

"You're seriously not seeing the resemblance?" Gojo shrugs, cheeky. He cups his palm around Yuuji's elbow –a signal for the omega to confirm it. "If that demon were here he'd be real pissed right now."

The seemed to unsettle Toshi. There's a pause as he considers his choices. Perhaps, the threat of Sukuna's name weighed too much on his shoulder.  Yuuji's guess is proven correct when, not a second later, the man evinces a scathing grunt.

"Should've said something sooner." He directs his glare at a restive Yuuji, crass as he grouses under his breath. Then, with a tipsy footing, he leaves. He doesn't wait for any more of Gojo's sallies.

"That was easy." The alpha does not remove his hand from where it rests amiably on Yuuji's billowy sleeve. His touch is hot, feverish even. When he stares at Yuuji, his gaze carries the same fervour. "If you didn't like his company, you could've just punched him."

Yuuji ignores the suggestion. "How do you know Sukuna?"

Gojo tips his head down, tinted lenses glinting. "We share classes. He's a bit of an ass, but nothing I'm not used to."

"So a third-year then?" Yuuji muses out loud. He fiddles with the brim of his drink, awkwardly wriggling himself out of the man's side-embrace. Gojo lets him, his grin never waning. 

"And you must be a freshman." The alpha supposes. "What's a young cub doing in a place like this? You with your friends?"

Yuuji takes a sip, posture demure. He scans for his peers across the blinking room. There's Nobara with Maki and Megumi with Okkotsu. They're forming some sort of a loose circle, swaying to the melody of the music with drinks in their frisky hands. Megumi had been forcibly dragged to their antics. Yuuji would have tagged along had it not been for the throbbing ache in his head. Lurid lights and Yuuji do not make a good pair, it appears.

After a prolonged pause, Yuuji explains briefly, "They wanted to dance."

It's a rarity for Yuuji to refrain from joining. But his legs had been too worn out from all the sparring Chousou had urged him to take. The older insisted it was necessary for self-defence. You never know when a creep is lurking around, Yuuji, he'd cautioned.

"Too tired to keep up with the fun?" Gojo teases lightly. "I can see it's your first time."

Yuuji smiles despite the unfamiliarity. "It's not really my scene. I'm not supposed to be here."

"Let me guess, protective brothers?" 

"Something like that," Yuuji answers vaguely. He's not about to perpetuate slander against his own siblings. "Thank you, by the way. The guy would've taken hours to leave me alone."

"It's no big deal." Gojo shrugs. "I like saving people. Helps boost up the charm points."

How vain, Yuuji inwardly muses. He can't exactly judge the man for it. His face holds credibility. Hell, he could be a model and Yuuji would be too dense to realise he's talking with some big shot.

"I can see that." So he comments instead. His cup is empty now, but Yuuji still feels thirsty. 

Gojo glimpses at his drink and widens his grin. "Want me to buy you another one?" 

"Oh, you don't have to. I wouldn't wish to trouble you."

"I can pay for it, don't worry." The man raises a palm. "But... if you really don't want to trouble me, how about a dance?"

Yuuji's eyes linger on the man. He purses his lips, conflicted. "I don't know... I–"

"Come on," Gojo offers a hand. "Just one dance."

It takes him a while to come to a decision, perusing over possibilities and risks that are disproportionate to whatever situation he's now landed himself in. Yuuji has two main choices: one, he can reject the offer and wait for three more hours until his friends are finally ready to go home or two, he can indulge the man and actually make the best out of his Saturday night. 

"Fine," Yuuji caves. "Just one dance."

– he goes with two.

One dance turns to two, then three, then four and five. Somewhere in between the spinning and the twirling, Yuuji's throat dries up and he's urged to steal Gojo's drink. One drink turns to two, to three, four and then in a flash, Yuuji's downing seven. 

The humid drafts pull them to the rhythm's speed and suddenly they're much closer than before. Yuuji has his arms around the alpha's neck and the alpha's palms are hot against his hips. Nose on nose. Lips on lips. There's some shameless grinding involved, coupled with flirtatious whispering and nibbling on each other's ears.  

Yuuji giggles at something Gojo says as the alpha leads him away from the crowd. Their playful prancing gets them everywhere. To the dimly-lit corners that house little company, to the strait stairways leading to the exit, even to the freezing outside where a narrow alleyway awaits – and then to a pet shop that still glints in open invitation. They don't really buy anything, opting to drunkenly gush over the snoozing rabbits on display. 

It was like being in a trance. Just the two of them wandering while doing the silliest impression of their favourite characters. There are a lot of snickering and endless chatters. There's teasing too, partnered with too much touching and skipping and landing in each other's embrace.  As they venture into the later evening, legs wobbly in their walk, Yuuji gets the unprompted idea to invite the man over to his dorm. Gojo agrees, albeit sloppily. 

Ruckus ensues as they make their way to Yuuji's kitchen. Coffees are served but they're toppled over the sink. Chairs screech and moans erupt. Tables are moved and lips collide. With a smooth transition, they go from chortling breathlessly to humping thighs. In just the span of three minutes, Yuuji finds himself naked in his living room – riding the shit out of a man like it's the whorehouse and he's got an overdue rent to pay. 

The sounds they produce are resonant enough to make the walls groan with them. Limbs splay about and clothes scatter. Neighbours from the third floor yell at them to keep it down. And a stereo plays in the background to muffle Yuuji's ear-splitting yes, daddy, yes! 

The whole situation feels much like an enactment of a documentary about animals mating in the wild – something Yuuji often sees featured in Discovery Channel. The moment Gojo realises he's got one hell of a flexible body, a spark of unbridled eagerness ignites. Again and again, they try out a variety of positions. 

And when the fated morning comes, he wakes up alone with too many marks on his skin to count and an aching back that renders him immobile.

The alpha doesn't leave a single trace of himself but a piece of paper with his number on it.

Just one dance. What a load of crap.

Yuuji is feeling like shit. It's been two weeks since his unplanned venture into the dark, unhinged wilderness of fun-obsessed college students (an exaggeration, but Yuuji deems it necessary to have it pertained that way) and he's yet to feel anything but guilt and panic in his system. What's worst, it's nearing three weeks now. His remorse is more of an issue with his brothers, really. Yuuji hasn't disclosed to them about his first party undertaking and he fears he may not be able to hide it from them any longer. The panic he's unsure to address is what overruns that feeling.

Yuuji's heat is late. It's a warning that's more intense than the lingering soreness in his muscles. A late heat is no funny joke. And Yuuji just knows he's going to be in some hideous trouble if it doesn't come soon.

"I'm a reckless whore." He laments to no one as he buries himself into the couch's cushion. This is it, the epitome of Yuuji's greatest fuck-up has now manifested itself. He's a doomed, doomed man.

"Good evening to you too." Megumi grumbles as he nudges the omega for a free space.

Nobara is seated on her favoured lawson chair, quirking a brow as she nonchalantly praises, "Congratulations. You're one of us now." 

"What do you mean us?" Megumi frowns. He shifts in his spot and cradles Yuuji's legs on his lap, thumbing the bruises of his knees. Softly, he pries about Yuuji's condition. "You still feeling sore?"

Yuuji's complexion colours, reminded of icy white and scintillating eyes. "A-a little. My ass still stings."

"Well, they do say firsts aren't always good." Nobara reaches for his head to ruffle the pink locks. Yuuji leans into the warmth of her soft palms and chooses not to correct her. He needs as much sympathy as he can get tonight to be able to pull off his big announcement. Contradicting the woman would just spell hellfire. 

"So have you called the guy yet?" Nobara's voice is levelled, but there's a suggestive lilt to her vowels.

"No." Yuuji burrows deeper into the comfort of his knitted blanket. "Should I?"

"You don't have to if you don't want to." Nobara assures. "But it would be nice if you could finally score yourself a boyfriend. Might even cure your brothers' weird complex so they can stop clinging to you all the time."

Megumi scoffs. "I doubt they'd let him date anyone. Much less let him meet up with a stranger he had a one-night stand with."

"Oh please," Nobara waves a hand. The red of her nails glisten as she pins a strand of auburn behind her ears. "Sukuna can whore around with you and Chousou can do whatever it is he does with Naoya's ass but precious baby Yuuji can't? What a load of shit. This is the 21st century, honey. Learn to assert autonomy."

Yuuji squishes his cheeks against the fluff of his pillow. "They were right to forbid me from going to parties on my own."

"You weren't on your own." Megumi argues softly. The pressure of his fingers is faint on his shin. With each gentle press, a strain relaxes. "If Sukuna ever scolds you for going out with us, I'll be sure to take your side."

The omega sniffles, moved by the beta's solace. "Megumi, you're a godsend."

"Yuuji, Yuuji," Nobara tuts. "You know you wouldn't have this kind of problem if you just told your brothers to piss off. Dear god, those nosy weirdos fuss over you 24/7 they even have your heat schedule memorised! Weirdos, I tell you! Weirdos!"

Megumi winces at the volume of her rant. "Keep it down, witch. You're angering the neighbours." 

"Not like I'm wrong." Nobara harrumphs. "The minute they get a whiff of Yuuji's pre-heat, they go running around like it's the new world war. You're never gonna get a boyfriend at this point if you let them act like that."

"I don't think they have to worry about that any longer," Yuuji mumbles, timid. 

Nobara and Megumi still. They share a look, long and pensive. 

"What do you mean?" Nobara squints.

Yuuji pulls himself up to face his friends. Okay. Here goes nothing. 

"I think I might be pregnant."

After an earful of frenzied havering and a barrage of questions, Yuuji reluctantly agrees to buy a pregnancy test.

He never considered buying it. Really, Yuuji had no intentions of ever checking it. He can count on one hand the number of times he's had a scare like this - and they were always zero. There's no way an omega like him would ever fret about overdue heats. Just a month ago, it was the least of his concerns. Yuuji's too much of a prude for unlikely encounters like this and so he never thought he'd have to ready himself for it.  

"Well, you got yourself fucked anyway Yuuji." At the back of his mind, he hears Nobara's resounding caution. "Might as well face the consequences now."

The consequences, Yuuji wholeheartedly believes, are appalling.

Here he was, stuck in the confines of a shared bathroom that's too cramped for him to pace around – mulling over the many scenarios of his brothers crying and rampaging. Yuuji isn't certain of how to go about delivering the issue if the test turns out pink. Yuuji isn't even confident he can manage to handle the little cross sign once it shows up.

But if things take a turn for the worse, Yuuji is provided choices. At least, that's what Megumi and Nobara assured. He hasn't looked into the options, and a part of him dreads ever having to. 

Yuuji lets out a sigh. There's a tub near the bowl to lounge on so he makes use of the open space. Absently, he rubs a palm on his stomach. It's flat, soft and... brimming with life. Yuuji traces patterns around the navel and counts the months ahead. The chime of his phone alerts him then, its wiry tune roaming across the midnight breeze. With shaky hands, Yuuji dares to peek at the blaring strip that blinds his vision.

"Positive," He reads aloud. Fuck, Sukuna's gonna kill him.

Chapter Text

Of the many places Yuuji most desires to visit, a clinic is not one of them. If anything, it's Yuuji's least favourite and least likely. His brothers had taken extreme lengths to pay private doctors whenever he had a cold (really, a simple cough could raise havoc). They even prayed to gods and saintly figures just for the assurance that Yuuji wouldn't fall in deeper ill once cursed with a one-week fever. 

They're not religious, Yuuji must correct. They're simply devoted idiots who love him very much. There is an infinite number of perks of having them as brothers. Yuuji never shies away from basking in the attention and adoration he's showered with. His indulgence gets him out of a lot of troubles too, so that is a definite plus. Megumi calls it manipulative, Nobara praises it as a clever scheme. Either description could work depending on the severity of Yuuji's plights.

Today, both may fail him. Today, Yuuji's monumental screw-up will signal the end of his little brother privileges.

"It can't be that bad," Megumi's heavenly voice solaces without a smidgen of incertitude. "The worst that could happen is a court hearing for the murder of your baby-daddy."

"That, or they become wanted criminals with a hefty bounty on their heads," Nobara adds as she calmly inspects the glitter of her nails. It glistens in red, the perfect imagery for slashing necks. "As much as it pains me to call them anything but morons, your brothers are too cunning to get caught by the law."

Megumi hums at the prospect, completely convinced despite it being a contrived supposition (Yuuji has faith in his brothers' humanity, so he refuses all likelihood of homicide). 

"You know, now that you've mentioned that possibility, we might have a higher chance of getting rich if we snitch on them." 

Yuuji casts his friends a horrified look, not too keen on their conspiracy. He should have anticipated this from a socially inept blueberry and an argumentative dwarf (his very own endearments, don't judge him). It's to no surprise their contributions are nowhere near comforting.

"You're dating my brother, Megumi." He feels the need to remind the other.

"Money is money." The beta reasons. "Anyway, you don't have to stress yourself over things that haven't happened yet. Let's try to confirm it first before anything else, okay?"

"Megumi's right." Nobara flicks his forehead to playfully chide him. Her volume is soft, an uncommon gesture reserved for instances of doubt and disquiet. "And if things turn out the way we expect it, we can always figure something out together."

Yuuji contains a sniffle as he stares at his companions. He's beyond grateful for their succours, no matter the frankness it's often laced with. 

"I don't think I want to abort it." He trusts them deeply that he's certain he wouldn't be lambasted for his confession. Consciously, he rubs a palm on his stomach and feels the warmth of a cotton sweater. A smaller hand gently rests on his knuckles. The fingers are kind with their nudges, patient as they shush his frenetic thinking. 

"Whatever option is fine, Yuuji." Nobara mumbles, tender with her words. "It won't make you any less of a person."

The consolation evinces a smile out of Yuuji. He nods, eyes a blurry hazel and cheeks ruddy with relief. From the distance, he hears an assistant announce his name.

"Thank you." The boy looks at Nobara then at Megumi. Both reciprocate his sparkling gaze of gratitude. "You guys are gonna make me cry."

Megumi huffs fondly as he grazes a thumb on Yuuji's cheek. "You're already crying, idiot. Now go. We'll wait for you." 

Yuuji does as told and leaves them a watery grin. With every brave stride he takes, his anxious heartbeat calms. Once he's led to a hall and instructed to walk ahead, Yuuji feels his lungs function better.

"I'll be fine." He whispers to himself. Then, guided by instinct, he caresses his abdomen and soothes the throb that spreads around his navel.  "We'll be fine."

"Congratulations, Yuuji-san. You're three weeks pregnant."

Yuuji lets out a sharp exhale. "Fuck."

The first step is to tell the father. It's an action that Nobara had been vehement about emphasizing on. It's also an action Yuuji never thought he'd have to prioritise first. He has a life-plan you see. He's had his whole choices mapped out the day he learned how to spell the word 'marriage' and his brothers forbade him from ever getting one ("no one deserves Yuuji," they unanimously declared). 

Now that the steps are grievously out of order and he's in deep, inescapable tumult, Yuuji reckons he's justifiably allowed to cuss the gods for his hapless state. He understands it's more of his fault than the divinities for letting a condom tear while a dick is ripping the inside of his ass, but he likes to pretend it's never been a responsibility he should have accounted for. The gods are douchebags anyway, a few misplaced projections wouldn't hurt them.

Suppose Yuuji acts on the established goal, the heavens are obligated to take pity on him. With their holy grace, he will succeed. His methods are elaborate to appropriate for mishaps too, so he's positive it wouldn't be much hassle.

Naturally, Megumi had to give his fair share of objections against the idea. He believes it a risk to initiate contact with a man who could very well be on death row given his brothers' stalking tendencies. But Nobara maintains any risk is needed if Yuuji were to attempt control over his decisions. It's a lesson of urgency and defence, something the boy ought to master lest he wants to be under his brothers' tenacious protection (in Nobara's words: coddling prison) in perpetuity. 

It's now or never, as the proverbial saying goes. Sukuna had taken a bit of creative liberty with the old adage after bemoaning its uninspired usage. Dare to fuck up and the damage will be less, he'd often preach during Sunday hangovers (and sometimes on days he forgets to submit a week's worth of essay requirements). There's no shock that Yuuji much prefers the latter maxim. 

"Fuck up," So he chants in his head. 

Here he was, a blundering, floundering halfwit, pacing restlessly around the kitchen while lamenting the ban of coffee from his diet– too fevered, too tentative, and too unable to conjure up any meaningful texts besides a string of blubbering emoticons.

Yuuji has no sound idea how to proceed with "fucking up". Thus, his endeavour starts with a draft of failures. He types and un-types, murmuring to himself trenchant hisses.

Dearest one-night stand partner– no, not quite.

Dear stranger from the bar – scratch that, too impolite in delivery.

Dear guy with the largest cock I've ever seen – even cruder! Yuuji where is your tact?

Fine then. Let's start with a greeting instead. Good words are always found at the start of every letter.

Hello. How are you this fine morning – no, wait, it's evening already.

Hey! This is Yuuji – okay, it's going well so far – your best blowjob ever – Yuuji, you ignoble wretch!

Again. Hi! this is Yuuji, the guy you knocked up. Do you want to meet up so we can discuss how we fucked shit up? 

Yuuji pauses. He peruses the draft and wastes a long minute squinting at its wobbly characters. The purpose is there, Yuuji can see. But the phrasing is burdened by an informality unfit to send to a stranger. 

"One last time," He coaxes himself into persisting. With nimble fingers, he taps on the green-lit buttons of his screen. 

Hey. This is Yuuji. The guy you met at the bar. I was just wondering if you have some free time tomorrow. There's something I need to tell you.

Yuuji heaves a breath. He matches his stuttering sighs to the rhythm of the dripping faucet. Satisfied with the briefness of his message, Yuuji hits enter.

Message sent, 10:34 pm.

It starts off like any low-cost, run of the mill, derivative TV sitcoms too lazy to come up with its own premise. There's a couch where the archetypal characters are to be found, all in cartoonish positions with vaguely insensitive sallies and one-liners to rile up forced laughter from the audience. And then there is Yuuji, the unreliable narrator of the show who starts the pilot episode with: 

"Dear kids, you might be wondering about how I met your father... well let me tell you a story totally unrelated to that and try to pass it off as a lesson you should keep in mind once you grow older."

In truth, it's anything but that. Because the reality is stripped of its zany opening sequence and titular characters, the iconic orange couch is substituted for a cheaply done wooden stool, and the laugh tracks are never to be heard again. What replaces all these quirky little worlds of humour and fun is a simple table with two seats and frigid, uninteresting Yuuji. 

There's only one person that stands out in the dullness of this reality. It's a man Yuuji's yet to trust and make sense of. But he's too much of everything appealing to ever be subjected to wary scrutiny. His demeanour is winsome, fashionable, eccentric in the most attractive of ways and he's –

"You're looking deliciously plumper today, darling."

– an absolute flirt. Yuuji grieves inwardly. You can never really have a perfect human.

"Good morning to you too, Gojo-san." The boy holds his cup tight for the sake of his sanity. Just an exchange of greetings with the older had been laborious, he's unsure he'd be able to keep up with the insouciance if they dally any longer.

"Now, now, no need to be formal." The man slouches with impressive elan. A prince, Yuuji secretly remarks. He could be royalty with how handsomely he presents himself. "So what is it you called me for, sweet peach?"

Yuuji struggles not to huff at the nickname. He pulls on the sleeves of his hoodie, stomach churning as he morphs his expression into one of solemn nature. "You see...Gojo-san, we might have a bit of a problem."

"Oh?" Gojo perks. His well-defined chin, once cradled in the cup of his palm, now leans away for a more attentive position. "This isn't about me ditching you the morning after, right? I mean, I did leave you my number. I even waited for you to call back."

"No, it's... it's not that." Yuuji shakes his head. With pendulous shoulders, he tries for a levelled tone. "That night. When we were... being sexually reckless–" Gojo emits a funny snort, "Do you remember your condom tearing?"

Yuuji's words are a dwindling stammer after that, but Gojo is sharply attuned to his mumbles to fathom what he means by them. "Well, I don't really remember everything that happened but I do know you were one hell of a rider."

The boy colours, skin a scathing pink. "Not the point, Gojo-san." His soft volume scolds. "Listen, there's no easy way to tell you this..." Yuuji inhales nervously, then, "I'm pregnant."

Gojo blinks as he registers the announcement. "I don't see why you would tell me this but congratulations, I guess?"

Oh dear god, the man is stupid. Yuuji parts lips, ready to unleash hellfire. But the cogs of his brain whirs and he composes himself again. "I believe you're not getting this right, Gojo-san. I'm pregnant."

"Yes, and I heard you the first time." Gojo wrinkles his brows. The glint of his black glasses dims, blurring Yuuji's reflection. "Do you want me to give you a gift or...?"

The boy groans in exasperation and looks at the man dead in the eyes. "Gojo-san, I'm three weeks pregnant. Do the math."

This time, Gojo tenses. His wispy lashes flutter and his breathing wavers. From where Yuuji sat across him, he could see the older's mind addled with rising horror. In no more than a second's strike, realisation finally catches up to him.

"Three weeks... that's–" He licks his lips, gulping subtly. With a croaky chuckle, he bites on his gum and grins anxiously. "You're pregnant?"

Yuuji nods, sympathetic. "I am."

"And it's...mine?"

"You're the only one I slept with," Yuuji discards the urge to mention he's the only one ever. "So yes, it's yours."

"Holy shit."

Of the many things Yuuji most desires to occur, making a man faint is not one of them. But it happens anyway. And it happens fast that silverware clang and nosy onlookers gasp. 

Well, at least Yuuji finally fucked up.

"So you're pregnant?"

They're offered free space at the staff's bathroom stall, where Gojo could freely blabber the same phrases again and again and Yuuji could confirm them without fail. The ceiling is white, lofty and spacious for purposeless echoes to ricochet.

"Yup," Yuuji replies shortly, hands stuck to holding an ice pack close to the man's head. There's a bump on his left temple, a darkening blue the more Yuuji inspects it.

"Pregnant like... there's a baby growing inside you?" Gojo is immovable even as Yuuji presses on the bruise. 

"Yes, Gojo-san. That's technically what pregnant means." 

"Pregnant like... slowly turning into a whale for the next nine months –"

Yuuji dabs with more force. "Okay, now you're pushing it."

Gojo winces, apologetic. "Right. Sorry. It's just..."

"A lot to take in?" The omega finishes for him. At the back of his mind is Megumi's monotone quip, "his dick must have been a lot to take in too".  Yuuji clutches the ice-pack and mentally curses the beta.

Thankfully, Gojo is oblivious to his untimed brooding. "Yeah... I mean don't get me wrong, I've always wanted kids of my own. I just didn't think I'd have to start with my how I met your father recording this fast."

Yuuji purses his lips, suppressing a startled giggle. "If it helps, I'm barely prepared for mine either."

Gojo leans further into his touch, seeking the soothing chill of melting ice. "Oh well, we can always embellish the truth." He says, intent on distracting himself from the expanding dread of unplanned fatherhood. "How do you want our meet-cute? Coffee shop encounter? Waiting-shed sharers? Or childhood friends who took too long to get together?"

Yuuji humours the man and simpers. "The last one's too suspicious, we don't even have pictures together."

"You're probably right." The man grimaces, helpless. "Say, Yuuji-kun...are you really sure about this?"

Yuuji squanders a minute to ascertain the truthfulness of his conviction. And when he's not plagued by reluctance or regret, he whispers softly, "I am." 

It's only two words, but Yuuji deems them to be the most irrefutable thing he's ever uttered.

"I haven't looked into all of the possibilities yet but... yeah. I am. And I'm ready to face whatever it'll bring me." Yuuji tilts his chin to stare at the man, eyes a flickering burn. He searches for something familiar within Gojo's gaze. Quietly, he asks, "Are you?"

The alpha takes longer to retort. Sheepishly, he rubs a reddening ache on his nape. "I gotta be honest with you, Yuuji. I'm not sure about a lot of things. Hell, I can barely pick the right shirt to wear for Monday."

"Oh."

Yuuji expects a rejection. He imagines being left with a remorseful sorry and a swift goodbye, perhaps offered with the promise of child-support but absent involvement. He imagines a hectic life and a 4-year-old asking for his other father after a tiresome playtime with the aunts and uncles. He imagines late sleep, hush evenings and a sobbing kid too disheartened to be convinced they're not unusual for only having one parent. Yuuji imagines all of those and fears the thought of doing things alone.

But then Gojo brushes a thumb on his limp fingers and proves Yuuji wrong of his pessimistic predictions.

"If there is one thing I am sure of, it's that I want to be part of this. I want to be there, Yuuji." The alpha says, melodious with the cadence of his certainty. "That is, only if you're okay with that?"

After releasing the remains of strain from his lungs, Yuuji eagerly bares the man a blithe and grateful smile. He twists his wrist to face the embrace of larger palms. 

"Gojo-san," The omega utters shakily, "I'm more than okay with that." 

And he means it with every fibre of his being. Their being.

First step complete. 

Second... a pending chaos.

"Now repeat after me," Nobara's grip is firm. Her nails dig into Yuuji's skin, unfaltering. "Our Father, Who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name –"

"Nobara we're not Catholics." Megumi stops her before the next line. He has his hand bound to Nobara's left, the three of them loitering by the entryway in a clumsy circle. 

"Shush, Megumi." Yuuji tuts, eyes sealed shut like the church's weeping nuns. "I might need this."

"You didn't even do the cross sign right!" The tallest of the small group grouses loudly. Without a hitch, he lands a slap on Nobara's back and Yuuji's head. 

"Great, now you've cursed his already hopeless fate," Nobara exclaims a vexed huff. She rests her fists on her hips, imitating the posture of a fault-finding mother. "If your luck runs out on the way there, you know who to blame Yuuji."

Yuuji, ever the impressionable fool, turns to pout at his friend. "Megumi, you idiot." 

Megumi scoffs back at him, mildly insulted. "You don't have to rely on stuff like this, dumbass. We're here for you. If things turn to shit fast, you can just call us."

"Yeah, I'm not vouching for that. I don't think we'd be of much help once your brothers are out for our blood. But," Nobara messes with the curls of his pink locks, "We can take some of the anger off of you."

The omega doesn't quite like that idea. "It's entirely my fault. I'll make sure to keep you guys safe."

"No need to bother yourself with that, Yuuji." Nobara gestures. "Besides, it's been a long time since I've pissed them off. This might be a new record-breaker for me."

Megumi hums in agreement. "And I have boyfriend privileges, so that settles it."

Both their reasons are sound. Yuuji can see the outcomes turning well for them from a mile away. Still, he can't help but wallow in crippling worry when his friends willingly throw themselves into family mayhem like this. They're too loyal for their own good that it alarms him.

"We stick together, Yuuji." Nobara had reminded him before kicking him out of the dorms. "We'll cover your ass and you cover ours."

It's wholesome in its own Nobara-Megumi way. But it's one of Yuuji's most favourite kind of consolation. It's blunt, unsparing and brimming with an affection that's solely theirs. Though, Yuuji admits it's a bit unsuitable for people who prefer hugs and kisses. Yuuji can recall the rare times he's received one from the two and he'd long learned to treasure them as much as he'd treasured their upfront company. 

Yuuji can't complain, they're the best support anyone could ask for – well, second only to his brothers. They give the warmest cuddles and fondest grins. Yuuji revels in their embraces because they're soft despite all the muscles their bodies pack. They're mushy when Yuuji snuggles closer to them, strong when Yuuji leans against their shoulders and generous with their homey scents. During glum and rainy days, they go well with popcorn and family movies. On the balmy ones, they're less on hugs and more on playful head-pats.

A mug of hot chocolate is best enjoyed when in the comforts of your home. To Yuuji, his brothers are much like that. Home.

"You're clingier today," Sukuna is suspicious when the first thing Yuuji does is flop on top of him. That had been hours ago. Now, Yuuji is stuck to the older's side and latching tightly on to his right arm. "Something happened, brat?"

Yuuji squishes his cheeks against muscle. "Nothing. Just felt like it."

"Don't stick too close to me, it's hot today." Sukuna, despite his griping and grumbling, doesn't make any effort to wriggle out of Yuuji's hold. He's clad in a thin tank top, boasting black tattoos as he scrolls through his phone screen with little investment put into the movie.

"Grouchy old man," Yuuji sleepily retorts. He folds his legs and pulls them to his chest, the edge of his oversized hoodie bunched around his waist. 

For a while, only the static buzzing of TV sings to the quiet. The breeze of aircon travels across the high ceilings of the room. Chousou's activity in the bathroom can barely be heard and the honking cars outside are just as muted.

It's peaceful. Eerily peaceful.

"Say, does anybody know whose pregnancy test this is?"

Yuuji tenses. Fuck, he forgot he took one in Chousou's bathroom a week ago. Dear god, his asinine brain can't stop getting him into troubles.

The omega is given no time to panic when Sukuna, unheeding to his tremours, answers outright,  "Can't be Megumi's, we're on a one-week condom sex thing. Guy's too prissy about cleaning cum out of his ass."

Chousou grunts as he exits the bathroom and trudges to the living room. He's got a towel around his neck, one he fiddles with as he swings the test in front of them. "It can't be Naoya's either, we're on a three-week abstinence."

"Abstinence?" Sukuna lets out an ugly chortle. "You guys are Christians now or something?"

The eldest of the siblings rolls his eyes. With a sound slump, he takes the space on Yuuji's right. "No dumbass, we're trying to sexually frustrate ourselves so we can have better sex."

"Already 25 and still can't figure out how to spice things up?" Sukuna quirks a brow. For once, Yuuji is relieved by their incognizance. 

"Shut up and worry over your own sex life." Chousou returns, provoked. The omega maintains silence even as the older reaches forward to lightly smack Sukuna's cheek. Wordlessly, he untangles from the alpha's side and sits stiffly between the two. "Anyway, if it's not theirs, then whose is this?"

"Well, it can't be Yuuji's either he's –" Sukuna falters. His phone vibrates but he pays it no mind. "Isn't your heat supposed to come this week?"

Yuuji feels his lungs constrict. He breathes hard, his exhales jagged and inhales sparse. With a dried throat he forces himself to speak, "Nii-san, I–"

"Hold on," Chousou raises his palms. He has his gaze pinned on both brothers, eyes narrowed to a frightening glare. "I don't like where this is going."

"W-well..." Yuuji sweats. Beside him, Sukuna jostles out of his slouch. 

"Answer the question, Yuuji." The alpha demands. Even without the apparent difference in height, he easily towers over the younger. "Your heat is this week, right?"

Yuuji purses his lips, beads of sweat cascading down his cheeks. Deep breath. Deep breath. Deep breath–

"Please don't kill me."

"That depends on your reply." Sukuna's eyes are a flaming crimson. When Yuuji turns to seek help from his other brother, he's met with a pair of stormy orbs.

It's at this very moment, that Yuuji arrives at the horrifying epiphany that he is utterly, irreversibly, damned.

"It's mine." So he says, devoid of any logical explanation.

Chousou gapes at him then. Two blinks. Three blinks. And then he faints.

"You're fucking dead." 

Chapter Text

On the subject of death and dying, Kubler-Ross (1969) stated that there are about five stages of grief. Often, it's done when faced with the loss of a loved one, but people can be very versatile with their mourning. Yuuji must remind that these five stages, while applicable to many, do not strictly follow their order. People cope differently – some in healthy ways, some in strange ways and others in dangerous ways. This is because grieving is handled in a manner that's inherently chaotic. And grieving may very well be deadly (for one's self or others, either could work depending on the intent) when carelessly indulged.

In truth, human emotions are too capricious to ever be confined in numbers. We're a mess, Yuuji surmises. But for the sake of simplicity (and for the sake of the neighbourhood's inclusion as they eavesdrop on their family drama like it's their favourite noontime telenovela), Yuuji will summarise in five stages the growing severity of his brothers' grieving:

1. Bargaining. The first of the phases is to bargain with the state of truth. For his brothers, their methods are relentless. They plead to fate as though that would miraculously make Yuuji un-pregnant. They go as far as to mumble orisons to prove themselves sufficiently Christian to the all-knowing lord. 

"Please," Chousou would wail to the skies, very dramatically Yuuji must add, "I'll build a church for you if I have to. I'll attend every sermon and spread the wisdom of your teachings!"

And Sukuna would be less on weeping and more on carping. He'd say God is a creep who can perform miracles and make virgins pregnant, so perhaps the exalted divinity would spare them the pain if Sukuna vows to behave. Fewer transgressions, he promises, less of drinking and fucking and sinning every Sunday when the church bells ring to lambaste humanity of their wrongdoings and urge them to confessionals. 

"I'll be your servile whore, my lord." That had been the gist of their bargain. If God were part of Greek mythology, then perhaps a covenant wouldn't be too preposterous of a possibility.

But then Yuuji would point out the whole point of impregnating Mary was to cleanse the world of impurity and bring forth change. And that God would certainly be against anything of Zeus' questionable morals. 

"Maybe my kid will be the next Jesus," He defends, "And then you'll feel bad ever denying them a chance!"

His logic, suffice to say, became an inevitable contributor to their inconsolable anguish.

2. Anger. Surprisingly, it's not the first to happen. Yuuji would have thought them volatile – if not explosive at the mere mention of Yuuji being imprudent. Given their temperamental disposition, with Sukuna more likely to create his own hellfire than raise one from Sata's den, Yuuji had more than anticipated bloody crime. It's a daunting twist when it's Chousou who dares for it. 

While Sukuna is undoubtedly a menace to society when livid, Chousou is another case. He's a threat of the same terrifying magnitude, but because he's too kindly and more sensible on good days – there's never a trepidation to be felt from him. Until now, that is. The man has as much peril in his bones to be unbridled havoc. He has a weapon too – which makes him all the more fearsome. 

There's an axe in the older's secret closet that the alpha cherishes dearly. Yuuji had only seen it once when the alpha had been away for a business trip. It's rarely used, stashed away for the unpreventable apocalypse that's to come. The only times the alpha had gotten close to using it was when an unfortunate suitor of Yuuji had unwittingly sung a ballad in front of his doorstep. The boy was a beta, new to the streets and new to the warnings about the Itadori brothers. Chousou would have gone on a murder mode if not for Naoya's fondness over the kid (the omega's a creep and a bit of an unhinged slut) and eventually, it turned to Chousou vs beta brat for the sake of his alpha pride.  

"I won't stop him this time." Sukuna, ever the supportive brother, chooses to side with the madman like it's no big deal to have a warrant of arrest hanging on his shoulders.

It's not a shock for Yuuji to have two melodramatic brothers with unreasoned values, so he isn't appalled by the betrayal. On the subject of screwing-up and making a criminal out of your brothers, there's a brimful of techniques to be used in alleviating ghastly damages (Itadori Yuuji and his bullshit, 2021).  If the alphas have made more than one precaution in cases of this level of absurdity, then they're sure to raise an omega who knows how to do the same.

He has a bigger axe – is what Yuuji means. And he will have it wielded the second any of the alphas cause disturbance in other people's homes. If that doesn't work, Yuuji can go on pretending to be the most distressed, most remorseful and most unguarded omega to manipulate the hell out of their brotherly instincts. 

"You can't fool us this time, Yuuji." Chousou confidently deters him, quick to sharpen the blade of his axe.

But Yuuji is just as quick to jut his lips and bat his lashes, eyes glossed with tears. "Can't you at least behave?" He lets his breathing waver. The rasp of his voice wobbles. "For me, nii-san? Please?"

And just like that, they're on to three – acceptance.

Because Yuuji is a conniving mastermind when he tries to be, he makes sure to slowly ingrain in their minds a rosy, propitious life with little Yuujis frolicking about as their giggles part the sky and call for cloudless spring.

"They'd be so adorable, nii-san." He'd coo, both out of genuine fondness and deceitful intent. "Just imagine, having your own nephew or niece babbling to you and calling you uncle! And then you'd take them to Disneyland and buy them cute things. You'd love that, wouldn't you?"

Of course, one can't make a strong persuasion without sparkly eyes to blind your victim's rationality. So Yuuji makes his twinkle like the peak of summer's sun, just to show the glittery, jubilant side of an optimistic future that Yuuji's unconfident about but adamant to portray.

"I bet their laugh would be so lovely. And their footsteps!" Yuuji would gasp, high-pitched as he proceeds to dance around like he's snow-white chatting with woodland creatures, or cinderella sewing clothes for mice. He's chirpy and playful and persistently artful in his cajolery. "Think about their faint little footsteps. When they run to you to read them bedtime stories, when they cry to you because they had a nightmare – oh, isn't that just heartwarming?"

Sukuna tries to not let himself be swayed. Chousou finds it harder to remain steadfast. Just a minute of contemplation and then they're fast to turn into mindless mush basking in the fluffy what-ifs and moving scenarios.  

Yuuji beams, satisfied. "See? It's not at all that bad, is it?" 

Chousou hums, axe back in the closet. Sukuna is agreeable too. And for a long while, a peaceful quiet is maintained. Until Chousou's brain began working again and plunged itself into panic mode–

"But this would mean you're gonna be a single father."

– which takes them to four: depression.

Depression is brief. Depression is entertained momentarily. It's just repetitive grumbling and grousing from Sukuna and grievous wailing and whimpering from Chousou. They mull over Yuuji's fate, how he would keep up with his education when the kids arrive (plural, because somehow they've implanted in their minds it would be twins), what house they should buy for Yuuji and the babies (they plan on searching for the safest and most expensive neighbourhood just because their money can), and why should they be deserving of a lighter sentence once they find the bastard who knocked him up and terminate him (kill is an endearment, terminate is a serious commitment).

Yuuji doesn't even get a word in before they transition from desolation to denial.

Chousou is the most devastated by the unfortunate prospects. "You can't have an incomplete family! You just can't." 

"I have you guys, I – we won't be alone. Nobara and Megumi promised to help too." Yuuji thinks this might be the appropriate time to bring up that Gojo is willing to take on the responsibility. There's little doubt in opening that discussion now. He and Gojo had it all planned out the minute Gojo knew he wouldn't only be dealing with one homicidal brother but two. 

So the omega continues, convinced the doom has waned. His tactics have been successful so far, so there's no reason for him to stall. With a heavy exhale, he parts his lips and announces,

"I want you to meet the baby's father."

Sukuna twitches, his steely expression contorting. And suddenly, the axe is back again in Chousou's hand.

"Sure thing." The alphas cheer. "We'd love to have a chat with him."

Oops, maybe Yuuji shouldn't have jinxed it so early.

On the subject of meeting your in-laws and being subjected to a bloody demise, the best response is to face the challenge head-on and take pride in your act of bravery (Gojo Satoru and his bullshit, 2021).

And if the worst happens, you better be sure you haven't skipped your pe classes (Fushiguro Megumi and the conventions of practical living, 2021).

The plan is simple. The lies are more complex and the details are a web of comprehensive intricacies. A paradox, he's aware.

If Yuuji were to tell you the entirety of the mission Gojo-Yuuji-Baby-Thingy (a term invented by Gojo himself), then it would take days to get to the logical reasoning behind it. Mainly because there's truthfully no logic in their plan and Gojo and Yuuji are just winging shit. And also because they're self-proclaimed intellects who excuse their rashness as people not being on the same IQ level as them. 

So, to keep matters brief and concise, a coherent summarisation of their strategy goes like this: there is a coffee shop, just across the university's library (the choice of location must be noted with great importance because it's the only place that can effectively repel his brothers), Gojo happens to like lounging there when the afternoon drizzle comes – then, one rainy Monday, Yuuji forgets his umbrella (the one thing his brothers always fail to remind him about), so he finds shelter from the rain and stumbles upon the humble coffee shop, there he meets Gojo and the rest of the events fall under fate's control –

"No, wait."

– Oh, Yuuji must remind you, this is a flashback. The conversation is (or was) held at Gojo's wealthy abode. There's a golden chandelier in the living room with a bizarre history and two very sleep-deprived college students chiming in between Yuuji's internal (external) monologue.

"So you met at a coffee shop on a rainy afternoon and somehow that explains why you got yourself pregnant?"

Yuuji bites his nail, brows pulled tight into a tense arch. "Yes...?"

"Yuuji-kun," Getou tuts, motherly. He ruffles Yuuji's locks, respectful with his touch. "You have to be more specific than that."

"Being specific makes it harder to lie." Yuuji whines, sighing.

"But it keeps things from getting out of control. You want to lessen the damage by making them think your baby isn't from a careless one-night stand. A lie of that degree is expected to be exacting."

"I never had to lie before. I might just screw this up." Yuuji mumbles to himself. 

Getou chuckles at him, sympathetic. "You'll do just fine, Yuuji-kun. Have a little faith 

It's the first Yuuji has ever interacted with an alpha of the soothing kind. Most of the alphas in his life are either aggressively protective, diligently uptight, or actively unconcerned. Anything of the unconventional sorts has never been more apparent in Getou. He's soft and delicate in ways that never appear meek. Like a graceful beauty, Yuuji thinks, elegantly confident. If the circumstances were different, Yuuji would be full-on crushing on the guy.

"What's so hard to get about that? Not like Suku-nii is gonna worry about the details when he's too panicked to think clearly." Gojo nudges his elbow to keep him off of his musings. His gaze is knowing, near-admonishing. Yuuji hides a flinch when their eyes meet, confused. For some reason the older's been sharply aware of his subtle fawning – and he's scarily reactive to it that Yuuji feels berated.   

"Yuuji's lying for your sake, dumbass. Put some effort into it." 

The omega is spared no time to make sense of Gojo's odd behaviour as another alpha emerges from the kitchen. It's Ieiri. Cool, pretty Ieiri with the untroubled gaze and silky brown hair. Yuuji swears Gojo has the most attractive companions – he promptly reconsiders the thought when Nobara's protests blare in his head. 

"Unless you want to get yourself killed, which is fine by me." Ieiri continues, trudging towards the most lavish lawson chair Yuuji has ever seen. She boasts a beer in her hand, a thin cig between her fingers and two tired bags under her eyes. "You're a waste of space anyway. We can take care of Yuuji just fine."

Gojo scoffs, scathing. "You don't have the means. You guys are just living off of my wallet, exploitative rascals."

"Why do you think we're friends with you, knothead?" Ieiri ripostes. With a speedy inhale of nicotine, the woman reclines against the leather backrest. Her heels click from the movement, chiding when she speaks, "Do better than a half-assed coffee shop excuse. Sukuna may be a hotheaded bastard but he's sharp. I reckon their eldest is just as meticulous. If you're not careful, you're going to blow up your cover."

"Hate to break it you buddy, but she's right," Getou adds. "The whole dating facade can crumble the moment they ask you for a definite answer. You can't just say you've been dating for a year and expect people to believe your weekly club-hopping is just charity work. Given Yuuji's scarce interactions with alphas and your flamboyant reputation, you're gonna have to try harder to make this work."

Yuuji sags. They're right. There's no way they're going to make this work. Gojo might not even make it past the threshold once Sukuna finds out his involvement. And if Chousou is informed of the alpha's dubious character, the omega highly doubts Gojo would ever make it past the lobby's entrance at all. 

"Great, you just had to be my brother's nemesis." Yuuji sulks, wit exhausted. He's sat beside the older so he doesn't hold back on pinching his arm. 

Gojo doesn't jerk from the nip but he does frown at the omega. "Now, now honey. Don't put all the blame on me when you're the one with overly-attached brothers. Seriously, what is with your family? You guys into weird shit or something?"

"They just care deeply, okay!" Yuuji sputters, cheeks aflame as he gesticulates angrily. The couch's cushions move with him, set on defending his family's honour. 

"Heh, looks like the bro-con label applies to both sides." Gojo catches the punch before it lands on his cheeks. Teasingly, he pats on Yuuji's thigh. "I'm sorry, I'm kidding."

The omega settles down, opting to fume in peace. When Gojo dares to fondle his leg, he digs his heel into the older's foot. They bicker back and forth to best the other in quick-witted sallies and winning retorts. Getou and Ieiri share a glance and observe without a whit of concern, simply amused. 

And, after a seemingly ceaseless moment of quarrelling, Getou decides to comment impishly, "You know, when you're acting like this, your supposed relationship looks more believable." 

"Oh yeah, definitely." Ieiri agrees. "You can pass off as a couple who probably argue during sex. The tension is there, I can tell."

Yuuji reddens, stock-still. "Can we just go back to the main point, please? I feel like we've been dallying for too long."

(Hell, the whole flashback has been dallying excessively)

"There's only one easy way to do this." Ieiri exhales smoke, acting all sagely with her brown liquor and dying cigarette. "If they ask you for the specifics, act as sickeningly sweet as you can. Flirt your way out of the confrontational interrogation Gojo-style. Kiss if you have to – anything to parry off suspicion. That way you can ease your brothers' temper."

"And if it still doesn't work?" Yuuji dreads failure. But his life is almost destined for one. He can see most possibilities leading to an abysmal end, and the events to transpire may just become unduly gruesome. 

"If that happens," Ieiri's pointed gaze glints a dangerous hazel. "Let them beat the shit out of Gojo." 

The beating Ieiri spoke of, Yuuji only now muses, is a light, light word. 

Gojo is being thrown porcelain plates and chased around the living room with an axe – it's not "beating", it's downright torture. The second Gojo showed a glimpse of himself, he'd already sealed his fate. It's a good thing Yuuji introduced Gojo beforehand as the secret boyfriend rather than the flirty one-night stand. If that hadn't been established, who knows what would be left of Gojo at present. 

"You're fucking dead, shitass!" 

– although, Yuuji thinks there wouldn't be anything left of the man with either outcome. If only Gojo had the smarts to keep his mouth shut, maybe they'd be in less mayhem now. 

"Shitass? Really, Sukuna? All this pent-up hostility and that's the best you can come up with?"

"You piece of space-wasting shit!"

Gojo dodges the swing of the axe, sprinting right behind Yuuji and making a shield out of the younger. "Don't be too hasty with that blade, nii-san. What if my child grows up without a father, hm? What would you do then?"

Yuuji groans and stomps on Gojo's shoe. He turns to pinch the other on the cheek, face scowling. "Will you stop making things worse?!" With a harsh pivot, he faces his brothers and points at them. "Chousou! You're the eldest, act like one and stop breaking plates. And Sukuna, drop the axe or else I'll call the police!"

The commotion halts. An axe is dropped and hush replaces the uproar. Yuuji startles the three men with the point of his finger, moving it across the room until quietly demanding that they sit on the couch.

Chousou obliges first, dispirited from having been belligerently called out. Sukuna follows suit, chastised into cooperating. Gojo is last. He is vigilant as he walks, not once leaving Yuuji's side and instead having the boy cover for him. His brothers are churlish when Gojo sits with them but they make no move to harm the other. They're compliant, just as how Yuuji wanted.

"Now," The omega sits on a chair posted across them. Like a stern teacher, he crosses his arms and frowns at the alphas. "Let's start over, shall we?"

"What's there to talk about before we eradicate this useless existence?" Sukuna grunts, jabbing a thumb the alpha's way. Gojo is stuck in the middle, sticking a tongue out like he's never been in any danger.

"Because there's something you need to know." 

Chousou gasps, clutching his chest. "Please don't tell me this is another bad news. What else are you hiding from us, Yuuji? You know your nii-san can't take it anymore."

Yuuji fidgets, ire subsiding. A glance from Gojo's way urges him to persist. "This may come as a shock, and you have every right to be angry at me for keeping it a secret but I just need you to know that... Gojo –no, Satoru and I have been dating for a year."

The silence plows on, and so Yuuji stammers more loudly.

"A-anyway, some things may have been done out of order but I want you to know that Go– Satoru and I a-are deepyinlovewitheachother so there's no need to worry about me being a single parent."

"You're deeply what now?" Chousou blinks, mouth agape. 

Gojo chooses the right moment then to fuel the fire, "In love, nii-san. We're deeply in love." The man puts his hand on the older's shoulders, proud when he says, "I take full responsibility for what happened. It was a passionate night and Yuuji was too beautiful in that lingerie I bought him I couldn't resist–"

"A-anyway!!" Yuuji fumbles with his hands, keen on defusing another clamour. "What we're trying to say is that things will be okay. Satoru and I have talked about this and we want to raise the child together."

"I don't buy it."

Yuuji and Gojo still. Stiffly, Yuuji turns to Sukuna and asks, "What do you mean?"

"You've never been the type to mingle with alphas and the only ones you allow in your circle are brats around your age." Sukuna squints, full of suspicion. "Didn't you say you would prefer a beta or an omega as a partner? How'd you end up with this clown, Yuuji? Are you lying to us now?"

"He's not," Gojo speaks. His expression is serious, devoid of humour. "Yuuji is telling you the truth. See, this is the reason why he has to hide things from you. You're all too protective and involved. The minute Yuuji comes clean to you, you doubt him right away. If I'm being honest, that sounds a little shitty to me, nii-san."

Sukuna clicks his tongue. He holds back a venomous retaliation, deciding to challenge the man. "Prove it then. If there's really nothing sketchy between the two of you."

At that Gojo smirks. "I was about to do this for our next anniversary but since you asked, maybe I'll do it now." The alpha leaves the chair and spares no space for question. In three speedy strides, he stands before Yuuji. 

"What are you doing?" The omega slows his pronunciation, already sceptical. 

Gojo kneels. "Itadori Yuuji...will you marry me?" 

Things happen all at once. A velvet box is opened to reveal a diamond ring. Chousou shrieks from the background. Sukuna races to reach for the axe. And –

Yuuji punches the shit out of Gojo. 

The alpha falls to the ground, knocked out within an instant.

"Well," Chousou quells his screeching to commend the younger, "At least we know that's a sure no."

"I'm sorry for punching you." 

Gojo presses the ice pack to his temple and winces out a chuckle. He's rested atop a pile of fluffy pillows, enveloped by Yuuji's favourite blanket. "I have to admit, it hurt like hell. But knowing how far your brothers are willing to kill me off, I think you just saved me from a lot of trouble."

Yuuji huffs fondly. He's seated at the edge of the bed with his back glued to the wall and head against the wooden sills. The late noon's shower pours over the busy street below, tapping faintly on the window panes. It's dimmer now, the latter half of the day drained of its distress. Yuuji had taken arduous lengths just for Gojo's bruise to be healed. If he had been a second too late from instilling reason, his brothers would have evicted the man while he was still passed out.

"Maybe if you just refrained from provoking them, you wouldn't have to suffer their wrath." The omega rolls his eyes. "A proposal? Really? You didn't have to go that far."

"Eh, it's fun to mess with people." Gojo shrugs, face smug as he sits up to lean on the bed's headboard. "Besides, it might take the pressure off of you if all their anger was directed at me. Stress is not good for the baby, you know."

Yuuji feels his heart combust at that. The alpha could be considerate when he wants to. 

"Thank you... for doing this with me. I really needed it." And Yuuji sincerely means every word. There's nothing more comforting than having Gojo by his side. He's grateful for the man's support. Yuuji is aware that few can be as willing as Gojo to take on the obligations. The boy is also more than aware of how rare his luck is. Not many can withstand his brothers, much less survive their fury. Gojo is an eccentric find, Yuuji must confess.

"It's no big deal. What kind of a father would I be if I can't even do the bare minimum?"

Yuuji hums, secretly moved. He nibbles on his lips and drags his legs toward his chest. "I've been wondering... you're very okay with this whole fatherhood thing. I thought you'd be more hesitant about it."

Gojo is quiet as he mulls over Yuuji's observation. His eyes turn soft, wistful. Slowly, he lays down the ice on the bedside table and clears his throat. "My parents are alphas."

Yuuji rises from his slouch. Even with their distance, he can make out the slight vibrations of Gojo's husky voice. The omega weakens the sharpness of his own gaze, ready to hearken to what the man has to share.

"They were busy people. Always going on business trips and entertaining partners at charity events. They weren't bad parents... just," Gojo pauses to find the right term, "Absent. They were absent for most of my life that I never really had a connection with them."

"Oh," Yuuji whispers. He hugs his knees closer. "So where are they now?"

Gojo points at the ceiling. "Up." He says, not a tremor in his volume. "Car crash. Right before my 18th birthday."

The omega holds back a whimper, desperate to subdue the surge of mellow emotions. "I'm sorry to hear that." 

"Don't be." Gojo shakes his head. "I wasn't when they were gone. It just felt... empty for me."

"Is that why you're doing this?" Yuuji asks, almost a murmur. "You want to be..."

"Better than them?" The alpha is shrewd, and so he guesses Yuuji's implications instantly. "Yeah, something like that. I know it's a simple reason but... I was a lonely brat. I just don't want my kids to feel the same."

Yuuji smiles, heart filled with profound adoration. Gingerly, he crawls to Gojo's side. He positions himself in between the stack of wispy sheets and linens. Once settled comfortably, Yuuji places his hands atop the other. The omega's fingers are short, dainty when compared to Gojo's larger ones. Still, there's a warmth to be felt in them that conveys all his earnest comfort.

"You'd make a good dad, Gojo-san."

The alpha perks, agog but also searching for dishonesty. "You think so?"

Yuuji nods. "I wholeheartedly know you will."

"That's, well, uhm –thanks. I think you'd make a good dad too." Gojo turns his palm to lace his fingers with Yuuji's. Tenderly, he caresses the lines and bumps on the younger's skin. "You know what? I'm starting to think we're going to be the coolest parents ever. The other couples are gonna be so jealous when they see us."

When Gojo looks at him like that, Yuuji doesn't find it hard to believe him.

"Just don't spoil them. I don't want the other parents thinking we're too careless."

"Let them say what they want to say." Gojo waves a hand, desultory. "It's our kid anyway."

Our kid. Yuuji likes the sound of that.

Chapter Text

"I never thought I'd ever get to a point in my life where I want to step on someone's dick so badly." 

"Honey, don't say that to Satoru Jr. What if we plan on getting another one? You don't want to waste this luxurious sperm bank, do you? It guarantees a high-quality offspring, mind you."

"No thanks. I'd rather not have anything inside me after this one." Yuuji hastily wipes the drool dripping on the edges of his lips. He glowers at the toilet seat, feeling the disgust prickle at his stomach as he sees his breakfast swirl around in clumpy browns and yellows. If Yuuji were to peer closer, he might make out the disfigured form of that alien from The Thing. It's a macabre sight and it's painting an image of his baby turning out like one of them. The thought alone makes him queasy. 

"My ball sack is always open for business if you ever change your mind." Gojo passes him a tissue and pulls on the lever for a clean flush. With his large palms, he rubs soothing circles on Yuuji's slouched back. "You think that's all of it?"

Yuuji groans while nodding. The strain of his body loosens with the release of his laboured huffs. As he leans away from the bowl, he pushes his back flat against the cubicle's wall. "Your ball sack is the bane of my existence right now. My brain is telling me to castrate you for deserved retribution."

The admission is ghastly enough to terrorise the older. "Hey now," Gojo covers his groin, forehead damp with cool sweat. "That was sarcasm, wasn't it? Your tone's a tad too serious, I feel like you're really gonna do it."

"I might do it while you're asleep." Yuuji is impassive when he replies to the older. He has a spare key and Ieiri-san has been persistently urging him to mortify the alpha. How they manage to be longtime friends is beyond him, but he's glad the woman recruited him in the anti-Gojo club. Yuuji believes his actions may be justifiable if they're aided by an agenda.

"Now I feel like I'm just being persecuted unfairly." Gojo whines. A deep frown settles in his expression, partly fretful and mostly alert. 

"I'm kidding, you dumbo." The omega giggles at him. "I didn't mean any of that." Yuuji means some of it but he sees no reason to unsettle the other. "The nausea's just getting to me real bad. I hope this check up's quick so I can go home and sleep the rest of my afternoon."

"It'll be fine. I got us an appointment to ease the process." Gojo bends his legs up before he stands. The stall they're in is cramped for two. Considering the alpha's lofty height, it's evidently more unfit for him. But they bear with the little space they have, anything to keep each other company while they wait and suffer a vomit marathon (yes, Yuuji is just as creative with his terminologies).

"My hero." Yuuji exhales, theatrical. He takes the hand offered to him and grips on tight, minding the gravity of his weight as he's gently tugged forward. 

"Fret not my queen, I have it all planned out." Gojo chuckles at him. Seamlessly, he steps aside to offer an open exit for the omega. With Yuuji's fingers still intertwined with his, he leads the two of them back to the clinic's waiting room.

There's a line of chairs posted at the front. A couple sits at the end of the trail and an elderly lingers by the third unoccupied spot. Gojo guides him toward the closest seat and offers him the briefest of smiles before he disentangles from the grasp. "Sit here. I'm going to fill out some forms so we can go on ahead."

Yuuji complies wordlessly, too worn for needless utterance. The ache in his head is yet to subside and it would take more than a few good minutes for it to fully disappear. He considers performing witchcraft just to damn the gods for the dizzying sensation but ultimately decides he'd be better off wishing the worst of destruction upon them. Yuuji is not about to defend the logic behind faulting the heavens for all of his problems, so the heavens will have to fathom for themselves why they're no fancy firmament in his books.  And if the deities ever come for him, Yuuji can gift them a grand fuck you for implanting a uterus in his body. That ought to teach them essential manners.

"You'll get wrinkles if you keep pouting like that, child." 

The voice that interrupts his sulking is wiry, scratched and hoarse from perhaps more than a decade's worth of use. Yuuji doesn't need to search intrusively to find the source of it as a kindly old woman waves at him. She's an omega. One sniff at the serenity of the air and Yuuji picks up the pleasant mix of mint and chocolate. The omega's cheeks are droopy, back a feeble arch and skin a collection of sagging wrinkles. Even with the transparent change brought by exhaustion and long living, there remains a charming attractiveness in her poise. 

"Pardon?" Yuuji stares in awe and imagines himself ageing so gracefully as the woman had. 

The omega purses her lips, deep purple like the glistening tint of her nails. "Your face. It's too early to be so sulky in the mornings."

"Sorry," Yuuji fiddles with his fingers, sheepish. "Puking my favourite meal has been hell."

"Ah," The woman bobs her head in recognition, "I reckon it must have been a rough way to start your day. Is this your first?"

Yuuji consciously rubs his stomach. "Yeah. I'm here for a consultation."

"Is he your alpha?" The older briefly points towards the nurse's desk where Gojo is scribbling on a clipboard, "He's a handsome one."

Yuuji laughs, awkward. "He's not my alpha. We just happened to be... well, we–" He cuts his sentence to formulate his explanation better. Really, how was he to phrase his circumstances well when they're so easily subjected to judgement? "We're not together." 

The emphasis elicits a hum from the other. "So you're not a fated pair?"

"I..." Yuuji blinks. He purses his lips and stares at the ground.

The omega is unsure if he should proceed with an honest reply. But the longer he mulls over one, the more he's robbed of anything to say. He and Gojo have yet to unravel the entirety of their priorities. Hell, there was too much of them that Yuuji forgot ever bringing up some of the significant matters. It's obvious they've missed a vital discussion. The two of them had been too caught up in the most pressing ones that they inadvertently neglected to examine the implications of their relationship. And now that Yuuji is once again reminded of it, he can't help but sigh in disappointment at their shared stupidity. 

Great, it had to take a total stranger for them to arrive at a conversation that should have been held weeks ago.  

"No." Yuuji is diffident when he tells the woman this. "We're not a pair either."

"Oh." The noise that comes out of the omega's lips is faint, pitying. She looks at him with a face of undisguised concern and a smidgen of prudence, like she's about to preach to him an adage Yuuji hasn't asked for. "Well, that's –"

"Yuuji, let's go."

Before the old woman could even let the advice roll off her tongue, Gojo is already ambling back to his side. Yuuji doesn't get a chance to dwell on the sympathy he's given as the alpha casually takes his hand, uncaring of the conversation being held. The omega is thankful nonetheless. He wouldn't have been prepared to respond to an offence had the woman continued. It's clear she means well, but Yuuji is more than aware of how blunt elders could be. His Gramps certainly knew best to teach him the tactless nature of seniors. 

Still, Yuuji doesn't forget to give the woman a polite bow. It's a thanks and an I don't need your opinion at the same time – respectful but also assertive. Chousou would be proud. 

"Did she say anything to you?" Gojo thumbs his knuckles to get his attention.

Yuuji shakes his head, "No. We were just talking about the weather."

It's the least clever deception but it keeps the alpha content. He doesn't ask. Instead, he pulls him closer to his side for Yuuji to lean on his support. When Yuuji blinks to question his action, Gojo provides him with a cheery grin.

"His Majesty needs all the aid he can get."  

Yuuji scoffs at his jest and rolls his eyes. Secretly, he wonders how lucky his fated pair must be to have an alpha like him. The pinch of envy that probes on his chest urges him to falter in his pondering.

No whore feelings, Yuuji. He repeats to himself like a holy mantra.

"All rise for our lord and saviour, Gojo Satoru."

The return to Yuuji's dorm and is brisk and untroubled. The people in his dorm are a different case. 

Gojo fleetly scans the dimly lit living room and notes a small crowd clad in black cloaks. He emits a shaky chuckle, mildly unnerved. "Should I be worried?"

Yuuji flicks the light switch on and blows on the sconces near his left. "Don't worry. My friends just want to congratulate your survival, but they're abnormal."

"Are you sure?" Gojo very sneakily backtracks. He hides behind Yuuji, crouching out of the view. The attempt would have worked, had Yuuji been a few inches taller and broader. "They're looking at me weirdly. You're not part of a cult, are you? You're not trying to sacrifice me or something?"

"First of all," Yuuji gestures with his finger, "I'm offended that you think I'm that cruel. Second," He turns to the swaying bodies and pointedly stares at the candles in their hands, "If I were part of a cult, I would have offered my friends first before you."

A collective grumble erupts in the room. The volume is faint but offended.

"Mean." One of the veiled figure whines. "It was Nobara's idea, not mine." 

The first to break character is Yuuta. He tugs the hood of his cloak, flashing a sheepish grin as he waves at the two.

"Coward." Nobara clicks her tongue and does the same with her mantle. It's lined with fancy red, expected to stand out the way she would have intended. Always the flashy one, Yuuji absently notes. "A week's worth of preparation and you just throw it all away to be goody-two-shoes Jimmy."

"You seriously spent a week doing this shit?" Gojo remarks, unsure if he should be impressed by the effort or the lacking outcome of said effort. 

"No, we didn't." Megumi sighs, evading a chiding jab from Nobara. "Nobara just asked her girlfriend to buy the stuff for her and set up a few candles." He directs his gaze at the beta, griping, "Also, did you really have to get the rose-scented ones? The smell irks my nose."

"Hey. If we're gonna be a cult, I want us to be fancy." Nobara tuts. She unties the clasp of hanging fabric around her neck and casually slumps against the couch. Megumi mirrors her actions and sits on the other end. Yuuta, ever the reliable of the three, quickly collects the mess and stuffs it back into a half-opened box. 

"So they really were going for the cult theme." Gojo mutters to himself.   

"And failed miserably at that," Yuuji imitates the gravelly tone of a dispassionate commentator. He lets out a sigh as a candelabra topples over the glass table, spilling melted wax. "Come on, you can sit on the lawson sofa." 

It's a spot dedicated solely for Nobara, but the omega is sure she would be too engrossed in her excitement for the new guest to care about protecting her territory. And if she ever notices, Gojo's hefty wallet can pay up for the guaranteed inflictions. 

The alpha unwittingly complies with his instruction. With long, easy strides, he manoeuvres his way around a stack of colourful boxes. The pile is an untidy mystery, brimming with zany colours and furry decorations. Yuuji supposes the disarray has got something to do with Nobara's antics for next week. If his mood by then improves, he's sure to be the beta's willing accomplice. 

"So? How did the family meeting go? I was getting railed by a shit-ton of homework, I couldn't keep up with the chat." As anticipated, Nobara pays no heed to the breach of her beloved sitting spot. 

The beta's mirth is unfiltered, leaning in agog interest to extract as much information as she can out of the happenings in Yuuji's life. It's apparent she's bored. Most days, she wouldn't have put this much curiosity in her friends' conditions. Unless they're dire or consequential, Nobara hardly spares it half a fleeting glance. Yuuji and Megumi call it being self-absorbed. The woman calls it selective care and genuine transparency. To her, their lives are too uneventful for devoted investment. Something both omega and beta agree to be partly true.

"I thought Megumi already told you the story?" Yuuji lays down a bowl of fresh strawberries before designating himself besides Gojo. He scoots into the comforts of the cushions, limbs finally at ease. 

"I was about to tell her the disaster but she said she'd rather hear it from the direct source." Megumi flatly explains. 

"And before you ask, I only came here to supervise Nobara before she starts harassing your boyfriend." Yuuta gobbles on the fruit served as he speaks. Dewy red stains his chin. "Maki-san's orders."

Yuuji stills. There it is again. That nagging sensation in his chest. It's less of a tickle and more of a pinch. Yuuji is unconfident of what to name the feeling but he knows it's something negative. 

"He's not my boyfriend." The ache grows stronger, twisting. Yuuji feels a stare on him and stammers weakly. "W-we're not together. He's – Gojo-san, well, he...uhm,"

"I'm just the handsome baby daddy." Gojo's gaze turns a shade darker, unreadable even when he smiles. "We're not there yet."

"Ah," Yuuta nods in understanding. "So you will be?"

Gojo crosses his legs and leans into the cup of his palm. His elbow brushes against Yuuji, cryptic when he grins. The delay of his response teases a long silence, suggesting a hint of confirmation.

"Not the point right now." Thankfully, Nobara's tactless intervention saves Yuuji just in time and deters him from combusting. Her polished nails glimmer, hands gesticulating animatedly. "I want to know the full detail. Did they cry? Did you record it? Did one of them go berserk? Please tell me it was a code purple."

"Code purple?" asks the only uninformed one of the circle. 

"It's an alarm for catastrophes," Megumi replies to Gojo. "More importantly, we use it for when Yuuji lands himself into situations that may give his brothers an aneurysm." 

"Huh, just when I think your family couldn't get any weirder." 

"Shush it." Yuuji retorts with no real ire. He turns to Nobara and attempts for a retelling of the gist of the events. The omega knows she would burst into complaints if he doesn't share a comprehensive version of his suffering – but if he tweaks with the magnitude of it and announces it at a higher level, he may get away with summarising everything. "It was a code blue. I managed to defuse the tension before any axing could occur. Although, the threat did nearly bump into a code red a few times."

"Just on a second rate severity?" Nobara gapes at Gojo. "You're lucky then."

"Hold on," The alpha stirs, blinking in disbelief. "You're putting axe-murder on code blue? Is that one of the lowest levels? Seriously, is my life not worth that much at all?"

"Oh please. Don't be a baby."  Yuuji folds his arms. "If you just kept your mouth shut and didn't provoke them, your life could have been valued way better."

"Your fate could have been worse." Megumi contributes. "Sukuna has a sword."

"I beg to differ." Yuuta chimes in. "Axe is way cooler."

Gojo squawks. "That's what matters? They're both deadly!"

"Again. Not the point, lanky Jack Frost." Nobara swings her legs, in lax recline because of the waning intrigue. "Anyway, now that I've surmised the dullness of your story –" An affronted noise resounds, "Let's fixate on what's really important." 

"Here we go," Megumi exhales heavily, preparing himself for a tiresome after-lunch nonsense. 

Yuuji surveys the rumpled state of his clothes and the scent whirling about him. After a second's inspection, Yuuji realises the beta had just downed two mugs of coffee and a bucket of wearisome plight. He deduces right away that Yuuta hasn't been of much aid to him. Inwardly, he suggests that Maki should reconsider assigning someone else for the girlfriend-sitting task.  

"I'm assuming this isn't going to be fun." Gojo laughs nervously. He's fast to adapt, but still patently perturbed. 

"It's nothing scary, don't fret." Nobara ignores his trepidation. She fishes out a paper from her pockets. Very deftly, the thin strip rolls down the ground. A line of scribbles covers the full stretch of the space. With her sharpened nail, she guides the men's focus to the first of her lengthy list. 

Yuuji squints, searching. "Are those names?"

"Girl names." Nobara specifies. "Yuuta-senpai has the boy ones because he's dumb."

As if on cue, Yuuta unfolds his own list. It's shorter by an inch but still teeming with looping letters. "We made a bet on your baby's gender and I know I'll win."

"Will not." Nobara growls.

"Will do." Yuuta shrugs, unruffled.

"Sleazy asshat." Nobara returns.

Yuuta smirks. "Yapping chihuahua."

"Inumaki's simping bitch."

"Maki's spoiled brat."

"At least I'm loved."

"Of course, you'd like that. You're her precious little sister after all."

"Why you –"

"Settle down, gremlins." Megumi, the reasonable and arguably the sanest, obstructs the elevating spat. "This is for the couple to decide."

Yuuji groans, red-faced. "I told you, we're not a couple!" 

"From the looks of it, you might as well be," Megumi says. "Do you really think your brothers are going to allow near potential suitors again after you got yourself pregnant? Sure, it's a pity you never even had a date but at least you'll have a chance if it's with Gojo-san. You're bound to get there anyway."

Yuuji chokes on his stutters. "T-that's–!"

"You've never been on a date before?" The tone that escapes Gojo's mouth is both incredulous and flabbergasted. His body jolts, torso twisting to examine every bit of Yuuji's face and predicting the deceit out of them. 

Yuuji disappoints him with a look of insecurity. "I just never really had the chance for one."

"Is it because of your brothers?"

"Not really." Yuuji tugs on his sleeves. His lashes flitter, shying away from the scrutiny. "They're easy to trick so it's never been a huge hindrance for me but... I guess I haven't found the right time for it."

"Oh," Gojo half whispers. It comes off as distracted. Yuuji dares a glance at him and sees the deep furrow of his brows. It bothers the other, so he pokes on the wrinkles with the intention to erase them from the man's expression. 

"Don't pity me." Yuuji scolds jokingly. "I don't like it."

Gojo caresses his wrist, a sign of apology. "No. It's not like that. It's just..."

"Just what?" Yuuji pries. He keeps his hand still and within the older's grasp, concealing the heat of his blush under the high reach of his sweater's neckline. 

Gojo's stare lingers on him. The troubled haze of his gaze fades, replaced by a cheery glint similar to that of his usual disposition. 

"Nothing!" He says, retracting his hold. "I'm surprised, is all."

Yuuji hums, sceptical. "If you say so."

Just then, a crumpled paper drops on Gojo's head. It hits his temple and rolls down on his lap. Suddenly, they hear Nobara's bellowed grouses. 

"Do that romantic stuff later! We're having a very critical deliberation here!"

Yuuji replies with a sigh. Gojo follows with a chuckle. They spend the whole afternoon until early dusk debating on the gender of the baby. And while the chaos of the discourse worsens, rendering Nobara a howling amazonian, Yuuta a petty opposer and Megumi the unfortunate peacemaker–  Yuuji finds his fingers slowly linking themselves with Gojo's.

Cacophonous larks intrude the peace, but their hands stay connected for the rest of the evening.

"When you said you came bearing gifts, I didn't think you'd mean this."

It's the weekend when Yuuji visits his brother's apartment and unintentionally makes himself a victim of Naoya's mischief. The older omega had arrived an hour earlier than him. He's dressed in the tightest of pants and Chousou's large shirt, the same red tee Yuuji had been vying for for weeks. And so he's grouchier when he greets Naoya with a mandatory good morning.

"My day isn't complete without traumatizing people." The omega reasons, plain and simple. He sips coffee from his fancy mug. Feeling satisfied with its lukewarm temperature, he rests his back on a frozen Chousou and loudens the sound of the TV.

The guttural screams of a woman birthing resonate unforgivingly around the room. 

Chousou whimpers, devoid of coherent speech. Sukuna is out for the day so he's saved from the torture. Had he been here though, Yuuji reckons he wouldn't be as unresponsive as the eldest.

"You're a wretch." Yuuji remarks. 

Naoya simply purrs, deeming the comment a sincere compliment. "It's my best quality." He adds a smug titter. Cheekily, the older taps his alpha's chin and observes not a single shift in his movement. "It'll probably take him a week to recover. Just as planned."

"Sometimes I wonder if you guys really are a fated pair." Yuuji brazenly muses as Naoya slithers his arm into Chousou's pocket and steals the wallet tucked inside. 

"Please, we're a power couple."

"That's what rattles me."

If Yuuji were more forthright, he would admit it's not much of a wonder as he makes it appear to be. When the younger is with the two (reduced to a luckless third-wheeler and an unwilling witness of indecent displays of intimacy), he can easily see the depth of their bond. And as much as Naoya portrays himself as a cool and uncaring partner who thirsts over his alpha's wealth more than his features – Yuuji knows he's just as stupidly and disgustingly in love with his brother as the alpha is with him. 

They make an insanely unlikely pair. But they also make it work perfectly. If Yuuji were in a different reality where being honest with Naoya doesn't embitter him and corrupt his soul, he would have openly gushed over their relationship years before they could even make it official.

"You know, I always guessed that you'd be the first of your brothers to have a kid. God loves the prudish ones after all. Else, he wouldn't have gone after Mary."

– but the reality Yuuji is in is cruel, and the Naoya that lives in it is a professional at being an asshole. 

"And I always guessed you'd be the first to not sound surprised." Which, to Yuuji, is both insulting and expected. 

"Well, you need one normal person in your family." Naoya says, nonchalantly doing a recount of the amount of cash in his hands. "Good job on bagging a Gojo. I heard that family's old money."

Yuuji scoffs. "Is money all you really care about?" 

"Oh right," Naoya pauses, contemplating. "The man's got a pretty face, so good job on that one too. If he were older, I'd one hundred percent bang him."

Chousou snaps out of his trance, alarmed. "Bang who what now?"

"Nothing honey," Naoya calmly pats his chest. "Keep watching the video. You'll need it if Yuuji ever goes into labour at the wrong time."

Yuuji scrunches his nose in distaste. "As much as I trust my brother, I don't feel comfortable letting him see me like that."

"Now listen here, young man." Naoya tuts. "It's best to be practical early on. You'll never know what will happen."

"Yeah right." Yuuji rolls his eyes. Another cry echoes from the TV's speakers. As he's about to shut off the video altogether to save his brother from permanent damage, he is hindered by the high-pitched chimes of his phone. He peeks at the glinting screen and sees Gojo's name flash on the expanse.

The omega wisely waits before responding to the call, putting his faith in Naoya's fickle slut-mode to alleviate the hassle for him. Three seconds in and the older omega begins snaking his arm around his brother's waist. He whispers lewd imaginings into the alpha's ears. The man's deprived of affection for sure. And though Yuuji finds it revolting, he's grateful Naoya's there to act as a distraction.

Now that his brother's senses are hampered, Yuuji stealthily makes his exit and spares himself from the torment of the pair's sensual flirting. 

He takes refuge in the older's spacious bathroom. Finally, with the quick glide of his thumb, he presses answer.

"Gojo-san? Is there a problem?"

Gojo is quiet for a moment. Only the lulling buzz vibrates. Then, "Go on a date. With me."

The words are uttered outright. There's not a falter in the way Gojo voices them nor a tremble in his volume. 

Yuuji raises a brow, astonished. "Well, that was quick."

A laugh reverberates on the other line. "Sorry. I've been trying to find the right words to ask you out but I didn't wanna stall any longer."

"You did impress me just now but..." Yuuji nibbles on his lower lip. "You're not asking me out for a pity date, are you?"

"No. God no." Gojo assures. "There's this place I've been meaning to go to. And I...wanted you to come with me. That is, only if it's alright with you."

"Gojo-san. I –"

"You can say no, of course." Gojo hurriedly adds. "N-no pressure or anything. I mean we can go another time if you're busy –"

"Gojo-san." Yuuji giggles, cheeks a healthy red. "I'd love to go on a date with you."

The other end is static for a while. Yuuji focuses on the whirring silence and discerns the distant squeal of an overjoyed alpha. He laughs to himself, amused.

"Gojo-san? Are you there?"

"Y-yeah." The alpha heaves a breath. It's easy to imagine he'd just finished a marathon with the way his exhales stumble. "So, pick you up at 8, tomorrow morning?"

"Okay." Yuuji smiles wider.

"Okay."  Gojo breathes, relieved. "Good. That's good."

Chapter Text

"Do I go with the red one or the blue?"

Yuuji fishes out two pieces of fabric from the untidy lump of colourful clothing. The hooks of the hangers dangle loosely on his fingers. Billowy and veil-like, just the sort of garment Yuuji would be confident to wear and just the kind of apparel Sukuna would obstinately be against.

"Neither." The suggestion is more than expected.

Yuuji pouts at his brother and pushes again, "Be serious. Which of the two suits me best?" 

Sukuna is non-compliant. He turns his chin away from the attires presented and keeps his arms folded. "Your fashion sucks. Nothing suits you. So just stay home and watch the newly released documentary with me."

"You're just going to make me watch stupid films of lions hunting down food." The younger gripes petulantly.

"It's better than wasting your time with that fucking hat-rack." Sukuna mocks. "You get to see cute animals frolic about in their natural habitat. It's prime entertainment and educational."

"Hat-rack? Your inventive insults are improving." Yuuji snorts. He tosses the shirts onto the bed's footboard and languidly slumps on his brother's back. With the slight motion of his hands, he shakes the older as he whines, "Can't you just be a supportive sibling for once and help me? This is my first dat — I mean, Gojo-san and I finally have the chance to date publicly and I really want to look my best."

Sukuna grunts as he's swayed haphazardly. He has enough muscle in him to fight off against the force but for Yuuji, he lets himself be tugged and jerked.

"Why do you worry about appearances so much? You always look your best."

Yuuji quells his grousing. His lashes flutter, astounded. "Okay, I admit that was sweet but I still need a pretty outfit."

"There's no convincing you, is there?" Sukuna deadpans.

The man rises from the drag of Yuuji's weight on his shoulders. He ransacks through the younger's wardrobe at a pace that is robotic and slothful. A direct indication of his forced participation and stubborn indifference. Then, after a moment's stalling, he eventually decides on a pair of white-button up shirt splattered with floral patterns and black trousers slim around the waistline. It's slightly freer on the shins, loose enough for Yuuji to walk without inconvenient and unreasonable constrictions for the sake of style.

"There." Sukuna presents the clothes regretfully. "Happy now?"

Yuuji takes them from his hands and begins inspecting with a meticulous squint. "Are you sure this won't trace my figure that much? I'm getting chubbier these days you see, I don't want to look too fat."

"Dear god that lanky lamp post has poisoned you." Sukuna grudgingly mumbles. "Since when have you mulled over your figure? Maybe I shouldn't let him near you after all."

"Sukuna!" Yuuji upbraids with a sharp jab to the alpha's knee. "Stop blaming Gojo-san for every little thing. I just happened to gain a little weight and I'm not too confident about it."

"Again, what's there to be insecure about?" Sukuna rubs his leg, wincing. He limps his way back to the pile of pillows and unfixed sheets. "You're good-looking, Yuuji. No matter the stuff you wanna wear or the shape of your body."

Yuuji follows after him, apologetic. Gingerly, he pats on the man's knee to soothe the throbbing offence. "I know that. I guess I just felt pressured to put in more effort. Gojo-san always appears so fashionably handsome, I don't want to embarrass him."

A gurgled sound of disapproval escapes Sukuna's lips. He rolls his eyes, sneering at the mere mention of the alpha's name. "Please. He should be honoured you're going on a date with him. Your presence blesses him, Yuuji – not the other way around."

Yuuji rolls his eyes, fingers twiddling with the seams of his to-be outfit. "You only say that because you're my brother."

"And?" Sukuna reclines cooly, unfazed. "It's because I'm your brother that I know what I'm claiming. Why do you think we have a hard time keeping you safe from asshats and perverts? You're fine just the way you are and I will not tolerate any demeaning comments about yourself. Not even from you."

The chiding inspires a smile out of Yuuji. He lets his teeth peek and eyes twinkle. "You know, if you said those things to Megumi you might just make him cry."

"Thanks for the advice but I don't need it." The alpha stands, readying himself for an exit. "I know plenty of better ways to make him cry."

"Sukuna!" Yuuji frantically covers his ears. With his feet, he shoos the alpha out of his room. "Way to ruin the moment, you horny demon."

"Still a prude, I see." Sukuna fondly scoffs. Before he could depart fully, he pivots on his heel to face the younger. "I mean it, by the way. He's lucky to have a date like you."

"I know nii-san." The omega grins. He leans on his toes and pecks his brother's cheek. "Thank you. I'll be sure to keep that in mind."

Sukuna hums, approving. "You better."

And with that, he takes his leave. Yuuji happily tries on the fit he's arranged for him, chest light and mind emptied of insecurities.

"When I asked you out on a date, I didn't mean a date with you and your brothers."

Yuuji closes his eyes and slumps in his chair. Chousou is on his right, more menacing than ever. Sukuna is on his left, just as murderous. Gojo, doomed to be the unlucky recipient of all their unvoiced threats, sits across the three. His sunglasses conceal the ominous grudge in his eyes but there's a conspicuous discomposure in the creases of his glowering forehead.

"I may have made a gigantic miscalculation." It's the only speech Yuuji can conjure at the moment. And it's true. He has no other logical reasoning for this unforeseen nuisance (though if Yuuji were more vigilant of his brothers' flaws, he would have predicted this predicament from a mile away). His whole 19 years of living with dramatic brothers and yet he is flummoxed by the sudden twist of events – what a gullible dumbass you are, Yuuji.

"Necessary adult supervision," Chousou explains, gesticulating weirdly. "I can't let you kids fool around without guards to keep Yuuji's innocence safe."

Perhaps, it's not the right time to argue that Yuuji's supposed innocence has been long tainted. But his irritation gets the best of him and he gives in.

"Nii-san. I'm an adult. I don't need your silly nonsense right now." He points his finger at Sukuna, face morphing into an accusing scowl. "And you! Didn't you promise to go with Megumi to a museum event? What are you doing ditching your own boyfriend?!"

"Megumi had to attend a family get-together. I hate his dad so I decided to tag along with Chousou instead." Sukuna blows on his nails, not once glancing the younger's way. "Also, do you honestly think we trust this heinous creature enough to let you be alone with him? The only time that will happen is when I'm dead."

"Funny you say that. I am this close to becoming a grim reaper." Gojo contributes swimmingly.

"This must be fate. I am also this close to becoming one as well."

"Stop that." Yuuji hisses at the two. "Is murder the only thing in your vocabularies? You guys are walking terrors."

"If I have to be one for my brother's chastity, then I'd gladly own the title," Chousou states, proud and unyielding. 

"Nii-san. You seem to be forgetting that I'm pregnant." 

"We'll pretend it's God's holy work." Chousou shushes.

Gojo snorts. "I mean I don't mind being called a God. If that's how you want to portray our saintly baby-making, then I won't complain much."

Yuuji groans, dropping his head and letting it bump the table's edge. A dumb move, but a telling sign of his swelling rage. "Gojo-san, please shut up. I don't need your suicidal ass worsening things for me." 

The alpha evinces an insulted huff. He collapses into his backrest, appearing disfavored. "Why do you come after me? This was supposed to be an us thing and you brought these clingy shits with you."

"They came with me. Uninvited." Yuuji corrects. He slams his palms flat against the flat surface, exerting uninhibited strength that disturbed the silverware into clanging. 

"Now, now, Yuuji." Chousou placates nervously. "Don't stress yourself too much, it's not good for you."

Yuuji, without having noticed his own rigid bristling, sinks back into his chair and mutters pettily, "It's because of you lots that I'm peeved right now."

Gojo very wittingly takes the faltering pause to chime in with a conceited smirk. "Do you see what you're doing, creepy brothers? You're endangering my sweetheart's health. Now run along before I call the cops on you."

"No one's excluding you, fucktard." Sukuna rumbles. "And if anyone's calling the cops, it should be us. If Chousou hadn't been such a bro-con pussy, I would have sued you for knocking up my brother."

"He says, as if he's not a bro-con pussy himself." Gojo narrates monotonously. 

Yuuji interprets it as his time to concede and retire from whatever pandemonium is about to awaken. He latches on to the strap of his bag, legs positioned faultlessly for a leap and sprint into the speediest absconding he's ever planned. But then a granted proposition stops him just as he adjusts his stance.

"Listen, it's not like we're going to glue ourselves to you. We're going to observe from a metre away."

It's not much of a benefit but it's acceptably cogent for one frazzled Yuuji. With a family like his, he's bound to be limited to two or three choices. And in this unfortunate happenstance (which, in hindsight, isn't really an untimely coincidence), Yuuji's appreciation for a stroke of seldom luck doubles a hundredfold. 

So he exhales, relieved. "You promise to keep distance?"

"Yes." His brothers answer.

Chousou wags a finger, disciplinary and mother-like. "But only for a metre."

Yuuji perks up, more enlivened. "And you'll let us have our date in peace?"

"As long as he doesn't get too touchy." Sukuna's jab a thumb in Gojo's direction. Gojo childishly sticks his tongue out and bares a not-so secretive gesture of provocation.

"Great!" Yuuji slides out of his seat before another quarrel could escalate. He yanks Gojo out of his in uncontained glee, egressing faster than the skip of his strides.

And because he's deafened by the ringing of his own mirth, he forgets to apologize for stomping on his brother's toes. Sukuna's yells of warnings quickly overpower the pained whimpers. 

"You know, it just occurred to me that I may have to marry your brothers as well when I eventually propose to you."

"I heard that, you moronic stickman!" Sukuna roars. "And by the way, it's a NO!"

For Yuuji, he doesn't hold back on admitting that it's an easy YES if the alpha ever asks him.

A date, Yuuji gathers, is a weirdly riveting feeling. The experience differs when it's with friends or family. When it's with a stranger you happen to take interest in, it's more intricately layered. There's a spectrum dedicated undividedly for its manageable simplifications. The experience could go horribly disastrous, laughably uncoordinated, lovably chaotic or impeccably perfect. 

A date with a known companion is more likely to be platonic. However, a date with an unknown companion about to be known is most probably romantic. Yuuji is aware he's defining it in the most facile of terms, but he perseveres with the general idea it pertains to.

Suppose, it's got something to do with the intimacy hinted. Or the unexpressed actions of sickeningly-sweet endearments or giddy sentiments – the novel fondness that slowly creeps up in between the spaces of two bumbling smitten fools too simple or too fastidious in their approaches. Suppose, it's purely because of the person you're with that makes the day more enjoyable and extraordinary. 

Yuuji is indecisive about where he and Gojo stand, but he's convinced either of the criteria suits them. He adores Gojo's company. He's random, fun, sometimes haughty to a ridiculous and comical extent – convivial, if Yuuji were to summarise in sophistication. The alpha makes it candid and uncomplicated to be around him and Yuuji could not be more grateful for that. But the thing he finds to be befuddling is the habits they've incorporated out of nowhere (ironic, because these hints of traits may have possibly been fostered longer than Yuuji can remember).

Usually, from what Nobara had told him about the histories and conventions of courting, no one holds hands on the first date as naturally and casually as Yuuji and Gojo do. They don't stick too close to each other either. They don't cling the second they're given a chance to be alone. They don't outright jabber about campus gossips, odd trivias and childhood misadventures. No one cackles on the first date because it could be a major turn-off. No one chooses a bizarre movie to watch because people often go for horror and romance – something about minimising the distance by maximising fears or lessening discomfort. And shockingly, it's not advised to bring up other names in palavers and converse in wheezing snickers.

Usually, from what Yuuji had read in magazines and blogs, no one is wholly open and comfortable on the first date. 

The omega doesn't quite grasp how effortless it is to be with Gojo but he finds that not a whit of him minds it. And the habits they have that may not come as spontaneously or genuinely for other people – he finds that he doesn't mind that too.

Being with Gojo is as normal and magical as living.

His heart stutters at the conclusion, rubescent and unreservedly kindled.

"What are you giggling about?"

He soundlessly startles from the poking on his cheek. Yuuji stifles a yelp, snapping out of his daze. "Nothing."

Gojo narrows his eyes. The movie theatre is unlit, conveniently tenebrous, so he has to lower his chin to see clearer. "You're not thinking about someone else, are you?"

Yuuji responds with an unforgiving pinch. "How dare you insinuate I'm cheating."

The alpha exaggerates a gasp. "Cheating? I never said anything about cheating. Are you hiding something from me?"

Yuuji, feeling impish, crosses his arms and directs his head opposite the older's line of sight. "Maybe I am. You're becoming insufferable for me, Gojo-san. I don't think I can do this anymore."

"B-but our baby! What would our baby think?" Gojo croaks tearfully. Yuuji is impressed. His acting is awfully believable. "You don't expect me to raise them all alone while you're out there necking some ugly substitute! How could you even leave such a pretty face for a mediocre one, you tasteless monster."

"Okay, that's enough." Yuuji squeezes the alpha's nose. "You're taking this drama way too far even the theatre kids are ashamed of you."

Gojo smirks, chortles droning. "Just a quick addition. Whoever it is you're hypothetically cheating on me with is bad in bed. I fuck better, I just know it."

"Gojo-san!" Yuuji scolds. He flicks the older's forehead, face a flaming pink. 

"What?" The alpha drawls. "I'm just saying you're never gonna meet someone greater than me."

"How vain of you," Yuuji says, unmoved.

"You like it." Gojo nudges his elbow, chuckling flirtatiously. 

For a distracted instance, they forget the movie. It's an uninspired film about an adventure into the deserted wild posing as a niche commentary of society, so Yuuji doesn't pay it much heed. He continues to titter at Gojo's words, prodding the tip of his nose with the popcorn he'd pretended to feed him with. Gojo jests about nibbling his skin for being cheeky. Yuuji tests his patience with a sardonic riposte. And then Gojo leans in closer. And then Yuuji reddens.

One second Gojo is tickling his ear with his whispers of idiotic puns and the next, he's got his head buried in the popcorn's tub. 

"Whoopsie~ My leg slipped." Sukuna towers over them from the seat behind, soles planted still to the headrest of Gojo's chair. Chousou cheerily claps at his misbehaviour like the puerile eldest that he is.

And because Gojo can be just as temperamental when badgered, he speedily retaliates with the throw of his cold drink. 

Another messy squabble emerges and prolongs incessantly even after they're kicked out of the theatre. For the second time, Yuuji contemplates ditching the three of them and flying himself to the most secluded town.

Hours squandered in the backroom of the mall reprimanded by the management and demanded to pay – and they're onto the next venture. It's a carriage date. A special ride that takes you to the luxurious streets while you're served a lavish meal and played romantic music from the harmonious weeping of a violin.

It's a fancy set-up perfect for two. What it is not, however, is an arrangement for four.

"Not bad. But too flamboyant for my taste." 

"I didn't know you even have taste."

"Fuck you, Gojo."

"Oho? This is an improvement. You finally addressed me by my name, Suku-nii."

"Don't call me that." Sukuna bristles. His foot harshly prods the younger alpha, legs stretched to accommodate the expanse of the underneath. 

It's a tragedy they're designated near each other – a mandatory agreement Chousou unwisely misjudged to be beneficial. Still, an infinitesimal bit of Yuuji reckons they'll learn to get along fine if exposed to one another's idiocies. And if he's mistaken (which, sadly, he frequently is), then Yuuji will just have to beg the heavens it wouldn't result in too much plight (at this point, it's a routine to cry to the gods for aid).

"Why not?" Gojo is smug when he opposes. He twirls a fork around a string of pasta, vowels idle when he taunts. "It's for practice, after all. Gotta keep up the informality for my in-laws' sake."

"I'm going to repeat this so I can drill it into you're thick, brainless, narcissistic skull: Fuck you."

"Are you sure you don't have the hots for me nii-san –"

"Will the both of you please shut up and just eat your meal?"

Strangely enough, it's Chousou who plays peacemaker this time. Yuuji recoils at the abrupt change of his demeanour, nonplussed.

"Am I witnessing a miracle right now?" The omega blinks. "You're not joining in on the fight?"

Chousou sips his drink of sparkling wine. "I'm trying to enjoy my food. Now settle down kids, you're ruining the ambience."

"My, my." Gojo respires deeply. "Have I finally won over your blessings, brother?"

"Don't push it." Chousou replies, dull and frosty. "I'm giving you this moment because I applaud your idea of a fancy-themed ride. My baby Yuuji deserves the best, after all. And as much as it ruins me to confess this, you've wonderfully delivered."

"Tch. Only you would get swayed by cheesy gestures." Sukuna bitingly comments. "It isn't even that remarkable. You're just being pulled by a bunch of white horses while looking like the obnoxious elites PETA would definitely protest against."

Yuuji partly concurs. They're undoubtedly displaying an air of ostentatious living any common folks would deem condescendingly upfront. But, because he's made himself a tentative ally of Gojo (as punishment for his brothers always overstepping boundaries), he decidedly retorts a scathing,

"You know, this is why Megumi prefers Gojo-san over you. You're an unromantic partner."

That part is true – if one were to exclude the details of Yuuji and Nobara baiting the beta into playing a game of would you rather for blackmail material. No matter. The specifics have little effect on the essence of the decision. Megumi's bluntness is to blame, not him.

"Megumi fucking prefers who?" Sukuna deadens his tone, gaze reminiscent of a stormy overcast.

Scratch that. Maybe Yuuji shouldn't have disclosed that piece of information. He imagines Megumi's lour and formulates a blueprint of an escape plan lest he wants to become a grilled whale (Gojo's ludicrous metaphors and infectious influences, Yuuji reasons). The omega is about to devise a finalization when Gojo cues at him with the quirk of his lips. Within a second's pause, their minds connect. Another short and impromptu deliberation later and they're improvising a scheme.

"Fuel the fire." The alpha's eyes seem to instruct.

Yuuji wrinkles his forehead. "I can't. That's too much risk! Megumi will kill me."

"Worry about that later. If you anger Sukuna now, he'll combust and unintentionally make a diversion for us."

"Okay, and what about Chousou?"

"I don't know. Think of something to distract him too."

"And you're confident this will succeed?"

"Trust me. If we can get their brains to stop working for a while, we'll have enough seconds to flee."

"Fine. But if we fail, I'm faulting you."

Yuuji clears his throat. He ignores his brother's fuming and tugs on Chousou's sleeve to get his attention. "I forgot to tell you this, nii-san. Naoya told me he's going to hang out with Mahito this evening. He said I should keep it a secret but I thought it was a little sketchy so I didn't want to hide it from you."

Chousou copies Sukuna's reaction, but the gloom around him is deadlier. "Naoya fucking said what?"

"Nice lie. You got him."

"Yeah, that wasn't a lie. There's a high chance Naoya's with his ex. He often does that when nii-san's starts being unbearable."

Gojo chokes on his drink, breaking his nonchalant front. "You sure your brother's not a masochist?"

"Nothing to worry about. Naoya would never cheat. He occasionally provokes nii-san so they can have angry sex."

"Ha. What a freaky couple."

Chousou makes a strangled sound. Sukuna violently taps on his phone (for a confrontation, Yuuji supposes).

"Careful. They might pick up on your internal mockeries."

"I doubt it. They're immensely distraught. Their brain cells are failing them." Gojo cheers with the wiggle of his brows. "Quick. On the scale of one to ten, how good are you at jumping?"

Yuuji looks askance. "Why does that matter?"

"Well, seeing as we're both at the other ends of the seat, I think we can make a smooth run for it right before the next swerve."

The tables continue to wobble from the rising tension. Yuuji keeps his composure as his brothers lose grip on theirs. He gazes at Gojo again, undecided.

"Hey genius, I think you're forgetting I'm carrying your kid. I can't just dash and vault like I used to."

"Here's an easy resolution: I'll go first, you come second and then I'll catch you."

Out of disbelief, Yuuji commits a slight blunder. "Are you serious?"

"Telepathy, dear." Gojo taps his heel with the vamp of his dress shoe. 

Yuuji harrumphs, lids half-closed. "Are you serious?"

"When have I ever been not?" 

The alpha shifts. His torso sneakily twists to the side of the carriage's door and his hand deftly clasps the handle. A curved path slows the ride. The spokes of the wheels squeak. The horses neigh. And within three seconds, Gojo rushes towards the pavement. His soles echo as he makes contact with the ground, rivalled only by the sonorous alarm of his signal. 

"Now!"

Yuuji follows his body before his qualms could thwart him. He bounds down the mounting step and into Gojo's embrace. The man is dexterous. Yuuji encounters no sloppy landing when Gojo carries him in his arms and proceeds to dart toward an obscure alley.

"You are so going to die for this." Yuuji's voice shakes at the same momentum as Gojo's racing. With shrewd thinking, he latches on the older's neck. 

Gojo holds him tighter, arms beneath his legs and around his waist. From afar, they can hear the honking of enraged drivers and blustering alphas.

"Not if I outrun them first." 

Then, availed by an inhuman speed comparable to that of a seasoned hurdler, Gojo breaks into a furious gallop and eludes the scene – a scene where Yuuji shamelessly envisions himself as a princess eloping with her knight (rather than a princely thief careering like a rabid horse or a kidnapper about to ask for inane ransom). Unfortunately for the omega, he doesn't get the chance to fawn over his reveries as he's speedily whisked away into an unfamiliar route.

Instead, he ponders if he'll ever have an ordinary day where it's nothing but pure contentment and fewer eccentricities. Yuuji reflects on his musings a second time and concedes to its unlikelihood. With his brothers' volatility and Gojo's caprices – there isn't much hope for normalcy. 

"So much for wishing you a normal family."

Already, Yuuji pities his child's future.

It's nightfall when they arrive at Gojo's apartment. His building is a soaring marvel but it's hidden well in between several skyscrapers and secured from the wrath of seething pursuers. The room resounds in bated pants and huffs of the most un-sexual kind (a bummer, the omega admits in secret). 

"If they find us, you're on your own."

Yuuji tiredly crawls into the older's bed without much thought or shame, while Gojo occupies the left of it in a careless flop. They're beyond skirting around the awkwardness now, so the proximity isn't much of a discomfort.

"You're getting less and less compassionate, these days." The alpha complains ruefully. Sheets rustle as he turns to Yuuji's side and props his chin in the palm of his hand. "I've been meaning to ask this – and it's fine if you don't want to answer but, how the hell did your parents raise your brothers without going insane?"

Yuuji shifts, lying down supine. "That's because they never did."

"Oh." Gojo withdraws tenuously. "Sorry. I shouldn't have asked that."

"It's okay." Yuuji maintains his focus on the white ceilings. Absently, he circles his hand around his tummy. "It's not a sensitive topic for me. To tell you the truth, I don't really care about them that much."

"Why so?" Very gently, Gojo threads his fingers through his locks. His whisper is patient, undemanding. It gives Yuuji the courage to share more of himself.

"They left when we were young. Gramps had to take care of us on his own. He wasn't the most conventional caretaker but he raised us with sincere kindness – in his own peculiar way." 

Yuuji stills, reminded of fresh-faced boys capering in the meadows and a wrinkly old man shouting about disturbances. He recalls vividly blazing summers, burnt dinners and grouchy kids moaning about wasted steak. The stormy nights where they stay indoors and fight over the remote. The sunny mornings where they loiter by the seaside and fish for crabs. The days of untroubled youth that Yuuji preserves in his heart. Yuuji remembers all of them in no more than a minute's interval.

"My grandfather was a big part of my life. I thought for a man who liked to present himself as callous, he was too caring. It was brave of him... to look after three troublesome brats when he could easily pass on the responsibility to someone else."

Gojo loops a cherry strand. He hums, short and breathy. "He sounds like a cool grandpa."

"He was." Yuuji nods, smiling. "Gramps, Chousou, Sukuna... they taught me how wonderful it is to have someone around – to have a family. Sure, they can go overboard and become stupidly protective but, they're everything to me." Slowly, he holds Gojo's wrist and guides it to his stomach. His eyes focus on the alpha, glowing in warm tones. "I guess I want this to be part of that."

Gojo lays his palm atop Yuuji's. He traces the bumps of his knuckles and outlines the dainty joints of his lithe fingers. 

"I hope you have enough space left for me to fit in."

Yuuji giggles, nose scrunching in elation. "Gojo-san, I have one specially reserved for you."

Chapter Text

The last time Yuuji was ever woken up by his alarm clock was when he was nine and Grandfather had been out of town for a business trip. Being the only early riser in the family and the grumpiest nagger of the century, Grandfather had made sure to connect one of the strictly-set alarms to a blaring stereo for the brothers to wake up to before dawn could even peek. Needless to say, they weren't all too pleased about the surprise substitute. The entire neighbourhood had felt the same – but Grandfather was too formidable of an opponent for disputes on mundane troubles. Luckily, Yuuji only had to suffer the obnoxious sunshine screamer for a week.

Now though, his tolerance for any so-called sunshine screamer machine is deathly low. It took about a second click on the snooze button before Yuuji had decided to destroy Gojo's alarm clock to pitiful pieces with the slam of his fist. His baby may have been slightly disturbed by the display of indignation but Yuuji has quite the inkling they're just as hostile about piercing noises as he is. Judging by how his baby is unresponsive to most annoyances in Yuuji's life (the annoyances mostly being the wild and tireless caprices of his friends and family), this may be a rare moment of mutual agreement between them. His tummy grumbles. And it's either the baby is in sync with his thoughts or Yuuji is about to sate a 3-year-hunger.

The omega goes with the latter and plans the morning for a cup of tea and a smidgen of violence (for Gojo's second clock and dumb-looking bean bag). All while Gojo, ever the heavy sleeper, basks in his dreamland with little care for missed classes. They're a perfect pair, Yuuji very sneakily thinks. His cheeks very sneakily redden at the admission too.

One loves waking up to greet dawn under the pretence of being a Disney Princess while the other buries in his bed of laziness to avoid the twittering birds entirely. 

It's the first observation that comes to Yuuji's mind when he stretches himself free from the older's tight embrace. The next that follows after that is the alpha's godly scent mixed with his. All around him, even in the unnoticeable nooks of Gojo's fancy walls and the hidden recesses of his imposing ceilings, Yuuji can smell the wandering aroma of them. It feels domestic, heavenly – Yuuji can't quite pin down the elation he feels in his bones, but he knows it's only because of Gojo.

Nowadays, it's always because of Gojo.  

Yuuji confuses himself with his own confession and waddles like a mother duckling towards the bathroom's entrance. The movement of his legs is uncoordinated, much like the flailing grace of his arms when he manoeuvres around the littered books and dirty laundry. Gojo is handsome, Yuuji will give him that. But he's a dreadful slob. The omega wonders if living with the man would prove to be a challenge – and stops dead in his tracks as he comes across two revelations.

One, he seriously looks forward to establishing something with Gojo. And two, the mirror hinting at his reflection shows a bump. A bump. Yuuji's once well-toned stomach is replaced with the glaring curve of a bump. 

The omega backtracks for a slow second, painstakingly savouring the absence of a mirror before going past the threshold again. And when he lays his hands atop his abdomen and dares a tease of bare skin – the bump remains, prominent now that they're without the covers of cotton fabric. It's slight in comparison to the other curves around his body. Easily unnoticeable, barely an indication of anything – but it's there. His baby. Their baby. It's there.

His actions are afforded no careful deliberation. Yuuji, led by his electrified instincts, immediately springs back into Gojo's bedroom (as speedily as his body is permitted to) and flops exactly on top of the alpha's sleeping form. He's unsparing with the press of his weight, depending entirely on Gojo's support as he harshly rocks the man awake out of uncontrolled zeal.

"Gojo! Wake up, you idiot! I've got a bump!"

Gojo stirs but his sleepiness makes him uncooperative. He turns away from Yuuji's relentless shouting and burrows deeper into the tent of his blankets, mumbling about cherished rest and a concerning amount of crude fantasies. Had Yuuji's attention not been strictly engaged, he would have slapped the man for dreaming unabashedly about his supposed plump ass.

"Gojo!" It's both a stroke of luck and a taste of tragedy for the older that Yuuji's intent on focusing on his new observation.

Drowsily, Gojo concedes a bit of his attention to the younger. "Yuuji, dear, as much as I've dreamt of waking up to the sounds of your voice – this is where I draw the line."

Yuuji maintains his persistence and huffs at the man. "Either you wake up this instant or I'll pour red wine on your clothes. I know how much your vanity detests it."

At the seriousness of the threat, Gojo decides to yield entirely. His nervous chuckles come out raspy, laboured like the break of his voice as he says, "You threatening me in the morning is adorably domestic."

Yuuji pinches the alpha's arm. He snorts with balanced irritation, maintaining a jocular mood. "Save the dumb flirting for later. We've got a bump!"

Gojo yawns, unaffected. "So? Everyone's got them. Though yours are more prominent in the back area if you know what I mea– mfh!"

The rest of the alpha's words are smothered with the eager slap of Yuuji's palms. His cheeks are trapped between the other's lithe fingers, surely left with the dented traces of Yuuji's long nails.

"Not those bumps, silly." The omega pouts. Half of his body lays heavily on Gojo's lap while his legs are positioned on each side of the alpha's much longer ones. With the slow guide of his hands, he directs the man's barely interested gaze to his stomach. "This bump, Gojo-san. We finally have a baby bump!"

Yuuji counts the seconds of Gojo's road to realization. He is patient and chirpy, well aware of how much of a dramatic fool the alpha is. Twenty seconds in and the older finally learns to blink again. He recovers his ability to breathe about 10 seconds after. And once a minute passes, he jolts out of the bed with Yuuji's leg wrapped around his hips. 

"A bump! A bump, Yuuji! A bump!"  

"I know!"

Yuuji titters along to his rising enthusiasm and wisely holds on to his shoulders. He beams, wide and blinding, taking in the view of Gojo's sincerest happiness. They chant the word together. Yuuji sings his joy and Gojo laughs with him. They're exuberant as any first-time parents could be. Perhaps, even more, with how shamelessly radiant Gojo's noises of celebration are. 

They're in their own bubble of bliss. Undoubted contentment and genuine gratefulness – a euphoria that is theirs alone to mould into however they desire. But then Yuuji makes the dumb decision to nuzzle Gojo's nose with his. And then Gojo adds on to his stupidity by leaning in closer.

The two of them double the consequence of their idiocy by parting their lips and connecting them together. One peck turns to two, to three, to five seconds of lips on lips and additional eleven seconds for tongue then –

They detach from one another. Yuuji stares at Gojo and Gojo stares back. The omega feels something stiff brazenly poke his bottom. 

"Oh." Yuuji looks down. "Did you just get hard?"

– probably not the right issue to bring up.

"That wasn't me. That was Gojo Jr."

– probably an even worse reply.

Yuuji's lashes flutter slowly, his thoughts coming to terms with the impact of their impulsivity. Deftly, he lets himself down and establishes a distance between the two of them. With a whirring mind and a poor excuse of rationality, he fuels the discomfort with a feigned cough and a voiced-out afterthought,

"We should've brushed our teeth before we kissed."

"You really had to ruin the moment, didn't you?"

"His hard-on ruined it first!" 

Yuuji tosses the wrapper of his ice cream and chokes on the last bits of its brittle cone. He's just allowed one – which puts him in a more unsatisfactory mood than the first hour he'd returned home only to be greeted by his least favourite afternoon tv show. It's a tragedy he can't have more, but it would be an even greater tragedy to the baby if he did. Eat for two, hold back for two. And here Yuuji thought pregnant people were supposed to be spoiled. The luxuries he's pampered with never warned him of the many constrictions he has to endure.  

"Not the point, kiddo." Maki postpones his sulking as if having already predicted his train of complaints. She stretches her limbs past the lines of her yoga mat, patting herself dry with a towel and delaying the conversation by downing down two bottles of energy drink. Again, another beverage Yuuji is indefinitely deprived of (he's divested of his rights to rigorous morning runs too, but this one he has voluntarily conceded).

"What you were pointing out was beside the point either." The omega retorts childishly while squeezing his face into the fluff of the sofa's pillow.

Maki huffs as she plops on the free space near him, partly out of exhaustion and mainly out of disagreement. "No, no. I was making a valid case. You say you don't want to like this guy but you're over here mulling about how badly you embarrassed yourself. That feels like implying a lot of feelings for me. So are you sure you aren't in love with him?"

Yuuji's skin bristles at the mere mention of the word. He tightly clutches the pillow to his chest as if to shield himself from the confrontation. "I am not in love with him. Sure I care about him a lot, but that's only because we're good friends!"

"Friends, you say?" Maki remarks, unaffected by his hissing remonstrances. "Just an hour ago, I saw you kiss him on the cheek as thanks for dropping you off here. Do friends really do that?"

"Hey! You and Toge always act all mushy around each other too and we don't say anything about that." – with the exception of the ever-assertive Nobara and the secretly possessive Yuuta, of course.

"That's different. Toge and I are childhood friends but even we know not to kiss each other. I'd kill him if he ever did that to me. And Yuuta might just plot my murder if I did that to him."

"W-well, Gojo and I are the same!"

"That's it." Maki groans tiredly. "There's no helping you. You're too stubborn to admit shit about your emotions."

Yuuji tugs the alpha back into the cushions before her soles could push her out of the room entirely. He's persistent, sulky still, but persistent. "I paid Nobara to counsel me but she's not here today. So as her mandatory substitute, you have to listen to my woes."

"Could've asked Megumi instead." The older grunts.

"He's still mad about me snitching on him, so no can do."

Maki grudgingly detaches from the cling of his fingers and reclines deeper into the support of the armrest. "Then just confess that you're into your baby daddy. Seriously, Yuuji. You're not the type to overthink. If you like him, then claim him. It's not that hard."

"It is when you're unsure about where he wants to stand in all of this." Yuuji deflates. Half his face is concealed, the ends of his sentence a smothered drawl of vowels and consonants. "Besides, the both of us haven't talked about fated pairs yet. What if he's one of those rare alphas? What if he's got someone fated for him and I just doomed their relationship?" 

He doesn't drop any allusions to his main trepidation. But the anxiety and terror is adamant in his face. He's got his expression all dragged out and laden with depressed folds. It doesn't help that his mind is giving in to hideous insecurities. Again, Yuuji dreads the possibility of becoming a hindrance in Gojo's life. Again, he's assaulted by his own panic and doubt.

"Stop that." 

There's a pinch to his cheek as Maki forces him out of the pathetic curl of his body. She's unforgiving when she chides him, all forceful pokes and tutting disapprovals. 

"Talk it out with him first before you assume things." The alpha advises. Her tone is stern at first but it shifts into a softer one as she pats Yuuji's head. "It's not fair to think too little of someone even if you don't mean it. Give him more credit, Yuuji. If he says he wants to be part of you and your baby's life, then let him."

"But what if I don't get the answer I want from him?"

Maki's pauses the peaceful movement of her hand. "What is it that you want from him?"

Yuuji opens his mouth. Then he closes it. His skin reddens and he recoils fast from the exposure. "What if I want to be more than what we are now?" 

"Then," Maki smiles. Something about the way her lips tilt tells Yuuji he's about to uncover a profoundly impactful epiphany. "You just gotta give it your all if you want to secure your man."

It's too easy and too simple of a solution. But, the longer Yuuji reflects on it, the more he finds how fitting of an approach it is for him. He discards his negative suppositions and dares for the better. Whether it works out or not – that's something his future self will have to deal with.

All Yuuji is sure of is that he wants something from Gojo. Whatever it is, the present him would be damned not to try his best to uncover.

"Right, so how do you want to start?"

Yuuji blinks. For a moment, he was sure he'd just given the greatest monologue of his life and ended the scene right then and there. Maki snorts at his dumbfounded look, still unfazed as the day she was born and had to come to terms with having uppity parents.

"Start with what?" Yuuji's confusion rumples the flat of his temple, predicting mischief.

On cue, Maki produces a pen out of her pocket and tears a page from Megumi's journal. Yuuji winces in horror and soon finds himself the victim of Maki's coy smirking.

"The steps of course." She explains. As if that makes her plans any less equivocal. "You have to have a guide for seductions lest you want to humiliate yourself and devastate your chances of winning.  A list is a necessity, dear."

At that, Yuuji simply sighs. "I always knew you were just as weird as Nobara."

"Positive plus positive makes positive." Maki shrugs. She scribbles on a title and proposes it to Yuuji.

The omega squints and reads aloud, monotonous as the low tone of Chousou's scathing work rants. "Yuuji's five-step journey to the grand alpha dick." 

"Sounds good right?"

"I can see the sincerity," Yuuji replies, sardonic. "You really think it will only take me five steps?"

"Don't sell yourself short, kiddo. You're an ideal partner." Maki assures. "If you followed the first step, you might just be ensuring yourself a splendid proposal in the future. Trust me, it doesn't take long to love a Yuuji."

"As much as I find that sweet, I disagree with the title."

"We'll work on the final details later on." Maki waves dismissively. "Right, so here's the first step..."

Step # 1: Offer to cook him dinner. 

Heh, real creative Maki.

Not that Yuuji has any right to criticise anyone but himself considering he's presently clad in a frilly apron and acting like the househusband of the century. He even has his preferred pots and utensils prepared with invisible no-entry tapes confining the whole kitchen. Inviting himself to Gojo's house is not a daunting twist but it's unusual nonetheless. Especially when they've spent most days circumventing a vital conversation. It appears that both of them have a knack for steering clear of the awkwardness – no matter the bigger dread of their consequential cowardice. 

Yuuji stirs hard before tasting the soup. He hates it. He hates not being able to confront anything crucial. Maki was being truthful when she'd remarked how it's unbecoming of him to brood over his decisions excessively. Perhaps the days before Gojo were smooth and breezy. 

No thumping heartbeats, warming of the skin and puzzling emotions. No flaming cheeks, stirred up senses and staying awake until midnight to see the end of dumb, nonsensical talks. No hiding things from his brothers and excusing the genuineness of his reactions as expert acting when Gojo leans in too close or whispers too much of his provocative compliments – knowing full well they've only been feigning such gestures for the sake of their one-year-relationship-going-two-pretence.  No needless scribbling on secret scrapbooks either. Colourful papers filled with pictures of him and himself and the future Yuuji wants for them.

No Gojo to leave a mark in his mind and make a cloddish, lumbering mess out of him. Ah, gone are the peaceful days of his Gojo-less life.

"Is there something wrong?"

Yuuji blinks. The steam of his boiling chicken clouds his vision momentarily before it clears to show him a highly defined view of Gojo. Tall and handsome and irritatingly perfect Gojo. Screw the heavens, really. If only the man weren't so blatantly favoured by the gods, Yuuji wouldn't have to suffer maintaining his gaze on him. He's a blinding curse – pleasing to the eyes but deadly when you take too long with your admiration. 

It takes everything in Yuuji to refrain from bellowing out how Gojo's whole existence is what's wrong. 

"N-nothing," Instead, he opts for a meek smile and a cracking voice. "I'm just...I was just really into my cooking. Were you saying something?"

"You sure?" Gojo tilts his head out of concern. 

"Don't worry about me, stupid." Yuuji jokingly pokes the crease of his forehead with the wooden handle of his ladle. "Now go sit over there and don't distract me."

Gojo raises his hands in surrender and swimmingly glides into one of the seats posted near the marble island. He sets his elbows straight and cups his cheeks, playing with his accent as he asks, "Not that I'm complaining...but is there any reason why you're cooking me dinner right now?"

Because I want to claim your grand alpha dick. "Because I want to do something nice." Yuuji mentally strangles himself. "You've been putting up with my brothers' hostility and you deserve a reward for it."

"Why do I feel like you're treating me like a dog?"

"You're more like a cat to me, Gojo-san." Yuuji giggles.

The omega stops when the older doesn't chuckle with him. For a minute Yuuji assumes the worst from his silence.

But then Gojo is trudging back to his side again and towering over him. There's a faint tint of pink on his skin. As he frowns, the pink deepens. "Say, Yuuji...don't you think it's time you start calling me by my first name?"

Yuuji parts his lips. It's unfair. Gojo is just unfair. He didn't have to come so close for such an innocent question. He didn't have to act all cute in front of Yuuji and still exude sex appeal like no other pornstar could. He had no business being the way he is. Stupid, stupid Gojo!

Just for that, Yuuji wants to be petty. He sets the ladle down and lowers the heat. Then he challenges the undivided attention on him and tips his chin forward. "What if I don't want to?"

"Well," Gojo pockets one hand and lets the other rub his nape. With his height, he forces Yuuji to lean further against the countertop. He's sheepish and conniving all at once. "You'll have to get used to it eventually once we're married."

Oh. The audacity of this man to act like a cringy frat-boy and somehow preserve his handsomeness. Character intact and image totally unscathed – Yuuji really ought to fix that confidence of his before he turns into a vomit-inducing, badly-written wattpad character.

He would've done so the minute Gojo's scent assailed his reasoning. But the omega is too busy rummaging through his memories for Maki's written list of advice. Step 1 is obviously not working well within his favour, the other steps...

Step # 2 : Talk it out, don't be a pussy.

Step # 3 : Talk it out, don't be a pussy.

Step # 4 : Talk it out, don't be a pussy.

Step # 5 : Talk it out, don't be a pussy.

(Goddamn it, Maki!)

– also very much not in his favour.

Out of panic, Yuuji does his best and blurts out the nagging worry residing in his thoughts.

"What are we?"

Gojo bounces out of his jestful mood and tenses. His smile loosens, waggish intentions thrown out of the window. "What do you mean?"

"This...this whole flirty, weird thing we have going on." Yuuji gesticulates wildly. His shoulders shake. His brain too, buzzing to warn him from spouting irreversible damage. "What does it mean? Is it serious or are you just joking with me? Because if you are, then I'm seriously going to be mad. And I'd also be sad about it and, and–"

Gojo does not let him finish. He pulls him by the waist and kisses him with all the careful force he can muster. There's tongue on tongue and teeth on teeth. Hungry nibbling and shameless prodding. And then Yuuji is released from the other's grasp to regain his breathing. Yuuji isn't even given a moment to savour the firework-like tingling in his stomach and weave poems to match the singing of his heart. He's a stunned mess throughout. All he's got in his system is clumsy love.

"Does that answer your question for you?" Gojo is simple and upfront. No stuttering excuses. Just wholehearted adoration.

"I..."

The fire alarm retorts first before Yuuji can utter another word.

Chapter Text

"So you just let the fire alarm do the talking?" The sound that evinces out of Maki's lips are rough and affronted. Much like the demeaning scoffs her twin is most known for. "And here I thought he was the one stalling. Looks like you're the one unsure, Yuuji."

Maki ends with the click of her tongue, probably to make her dissatisfaction more pronounced. And probably to prod on Yuuji's already waning dignity just for the hell of it. He almost wants to say, plagued with the intentions of distressed wondering, that Maki is meaner than her sister. But then he recounts a time when Mai had dyed all his clothes rainbow the day before an important presentation at school and decided wisely to recant his statement. 

The devil is a hard-working bitch, or so Nobara claims. And might as well be satan's adopted daughter if the Fushiguros ever want peace in their lives. Not entirely quoted from Nobara's many hateful spiels, but definitely true to what she feels about the other.

"I guess you're still a better listener than your sister." Yuuji freely thinks aloud. He has his face squeezed deep into the wrinkles of his stacked pillows, two layers of blanket and another for the shame glued to his skin.

"Please, that girl wouldn't last a minute of your lovesick moping. She'd sooner fling you out of her sight than entertain the gloomy energy you're emitting."

Yuuji snorts at the proposed imagery, legs unfolding from their shameful curl. "She'd probably say I'm annihilating her outfit of the day just by being around her." 

Mai never wasted a second griping about being too better looking than everybody else so the idea isn't as far-fetched. With her added philosophy of 'ugliness offends me'  casually thrown around, the postulation is near realistic than simply conjectured.

A tap on his temple disapproves of his judgment, not too full of rebuke but still a tutting caution. Yuuji looks to his left and feels kind warmth run through his locks. Slow and patient and soundless like the flick of Toge's fingers as he signs his words to him.

"Maki is right though,"  He starts and Maki almost rejoices from the other's support. "Not about the blatant slander against her twin, but more about your uncertainty."

"Boo," Maki drawls out monotonously. "And here I thought we would finally agree on something."

"I will never choose peanut butter over mayonnaise."  Toge opposes readily. He turns to Yuuji again. The motion of his palm on Yuuji's scalp is less adamant. "The thing is, Yuuji, you might be too overwhelmed by your own doubts about the future that you're letting the worries hinder both of your progress."

"That, or he just panicked at the barest sign of unfamiliarity and hightailed the shit out of there." Maki continues to analyze, much like a psychology major too disconnected from proper ethics to actually dissuade his unhealthy coping – and perhaps a tad too brusque to hold back a string of phrases fraught with inspired vocabularies only meant to call him a cowardly pussy. Either description has no benefit to Yuuji.

Toge's, however, he believes to be appropriately applied to his hapless circumstance.

"It's not that I don't feel it. Because I do. It's just that... I can't help but feel like whatever we'll start might end up becoming a trial-and-error deal. You know, sweet at the beginning but eventually fleeting." Fickle, always in tethers, harried by unmet resolutions and tottering perseverance. The good old 'maybe we'll work, maybe we won't'.

Hasty commitments with unending repercussions.

Envisioning the wholeness of the implications terrorises him more. Yuuji dives in for one last smother then slackly sits his body up, back against the headboard with leaden legs plopping atop the older. His pillow rests on his stomach to cover from the stream of brisk breeze. The bump is growing still, healthier despite all the thinking Yuuji abuses his brain with. Just the brush of a knuckle along the small curve brings back remembrances of the clumsy, romance-addled kiss they did some days ago before this floundering future state of his. Truly a permanent remembrance of their reckless ignorance.

"Things could be said on a whim. Especially when there's a baby involved. It's hard to ascertain how faithful the vows would turn out no matter the genuineness behind them."

A pinch to his forehead. Surprisingly, the reproach comes from Toge himself. He swings his hands above Yuuji's head, angry at the invisible tides of his despondency. "No angsty thoughts. Dispel. Dispel!"

"This is the first time I've witnessed you so...ruminative." Maki shares. "You having profound thoughts unnerve me."

"Hey! I'm not that dumb."

There's a tweak on the hair of his nape. Maki's harsh love language, for sure. "But you are acting all dumb right now, Yuuji. Can't you see? That guy's so smitten with you he even promised to attend all his classes to give you a better future. Do you even understand the weight of that statement? Gojo Satoru? Prime slacker? Good attendance record? Never been heard before."

"You know Gojo, he's always been...connivingly flirtatious. What if that's just part of his eccentricity?"

"You seem to be going out of your way to discount every possible chance you can get with him,"  Toge observes. "Do you really like this guy or not?"

"I do!" Yuuji doesn't falter in his answer. He has his fists closed tensely, brows drawn to a straight line. The wrinkles of his smile are tarnished with the etchings of a frown. The omega knows how desperately he's presented his displeasure. But a part of him is unwilling to let the doubt slide.

"Now you feel the same frustration?"  Toge lightly pats his cheek, gesturing for him to pay close attention. "If Gojo-san were to hear all these reluctant opinions you have of him, he'd be really hurt about it."

"I bet you he'll sing his woes out just to be dramatic. But then again, however he wants to sulk about it would still be sincere." There is a brief, almost inconspicuous drag of silence before Maki softens her tone. "He cares about you, Yuuji. Your brothers can see that. And lord knows how stupidly dense they are. If they weren't so certain of him, they wouldn't have let an inch of him near you."

"Some inches did succeed despite their attempted chastity-preservation." Yuuji is plagued with negativity, but it hasn't stopped him from voicing out his wisecracks.

"There he is. Finally." 

Maki gracefully pushes herself off the bed and extends her hand toward Yuuji. Her lips are shaped into a thin crescent, the slightest indication of silly mischief. 

"Now why don't we do that yoga exercise Toge has been eagerly learning for you. A little stretching would do your stressed-out body some good. Plus, you can learn a thing or two for the bedroom plays. That is, if you ever get yourself out of your aimless wandering."

Yuuji stumbles out of balance and is caught by Toge's assistance. Just from the loudness of his friends' snickers, Yuuji knows he's coloured stark rose all over. 

"No need to doubt the effectiveness of this one. It's been tried and tested." And to goad a vivid cerise, Toge harasses him with the unsolicited invitation to judge his and Yuuta's sex life.

At least it's not as wildly inventive and ridiculously random as Chousou and Naoya's. Yuuji really ought to reconsider banning any mentions of sex around him. He thinks twice about the approach when he realises he would not be allowed to make his own dirty quips (now a propensity because of Gojo's brazen and undisguised humour). Not an ideal compromise, Yuuji reckons.

"If this doesn't relieve my stress, I'll make you guys listen to more of my brooding later on."

Maki smirks, daring as always. "Trust me, with us as your teachers, your troubles will definitely be resolved by Thursday."

Despite the jaw-dropping ingenuity of yoga poses pertinent (Maki and Toge will emphasize, pertinent) to bedroom plays, including the sexual innuendos that, accordingly,  followed after a perfected split over the mat – the alleviation of his headache-inducing torment never truly faltered. 

It's Thursday and he hasn't gotten around to fixing his habit of stalling important matters. It's also the first of many days he will be out of school indefinitely (or however long his pregnancy will allow him to recover). He would like to do the math but the current him has more to delay in his life than a couple of calculations to punch into his dingy calculator (it's never really used unless the scant numbers logged in his textbooks ask for it). 

So yes, it's Thursday and Yuuji is still a dilly-dallying bitch. And because Thursday is a day for Maki's cramming and Toge's... newly-found ventures into the wild, wild landscape of kinks – Yuuji is left to fend for himself. Of course, there is Nobara, but she's too devoted to the nurturing partner act to leave her girlfriend alone ("I do the cooking, I do the cleaning, Yuuji. The better the service, the better the debauchery!"). Megumi's a sore loser who would rather squander minutes absorbing age-old literature and getting himself railed for whatever arouses Sukuna's impulses. And Yuuta's a willing enabler to Toge's whims that Yuuji is better off ranting to a stranger than to a smitten fool about to reach his quota of 100 libertine infractions.

There shouldn't be a question as to why Yuuji avoids whining to Sukuna and Chousou entirely. If he didn't, an inevitable bloodbath would stir the (presently) boiling mayhem and result in life imprisonment. Two things Yuuji is not in the mood to deal with. 

Having a small circle has its perks, he appreciates. The only setback is when the people in it are unavailable and Yuuji is slapped with the reverberations of befriending only five strangers for the majority of his existence. Not for the first time, he blames his brothers for the inconvenience. Yuuji had been mollycoddled at his home that he never thought to agonize over the tragic inadequacy of his social network.  

Although, his companions could use some humbling for all the overt immodesty they've been surfeiting. Or, what he discreetly titles an impropriety to the highest corruption. And yes, he says discreetly, because of his circle's ineliminable practice of chaffing his prudence every time he drops a victorian point.

"So in conclusion, you're left with no other choice but to agitate my ears off? And do you really think I'd be the last person on earth uninterested in poking fun at your prissy disposition? " 

Yuuji provides little ire in his response, surrendering to Naoya's impending mockeries. "Once I get myself some new set of friends, you don't have to ever worry about being burdened by my forlorn fretting again."

"Ever thought of just buying yourself a group of enthusiastic listeners?" Naoya remarks absently, distracted by the infinitesimal chip on one of his finely manicured nails. "I'm sure your brother has some funds stashed away for something like that. Or better yet, just pay a therapist to help you work out on whatever internal conflict you're going through right now."

"Wouldn't you rather prey on the funds yourself?" Yuuji stoops his body forward. "If you want to have that grand wedding of yours, might as well take advantage of the free money now. Think of it as my wedding gift to you. For always being a sensible, attentive, and dependable nii-san."

Naoya's expression morphs into one of irrepressible disgust and flagrant horror. "Do not ever call me by that word again."

"We can negotiate this the easy way or the hard way, Naoya-nii."

A frazzled groan. Naoya halfheartedly yields. "Fine. I'll amuse your inane havering. 100 yen for every second I have to misspend on you. And an added bonus for having to listen to your pining and sputtering."

"That's a lot for a 3-hour consultation."

"I'm being generous here, brat. Take it or leave it, I'll find other means to drain your wallet."

"We can arrange the payment later," Yuuji sighs in resignation. He's confident he can cajole Sukuna into lending him his card if Naoya ever charges him a hefty amount. Assuming the plan disappoints, Yuuji will just have to deceive his way out of the misfortune. Naoya has a soft spot for him, he knows. "If your guidance enlightens me, we can double the price." 

Naoya smirks, vivified by the guaranteed compensation. "Thinking like a businessman, I'm impressed."

Yuuji unfolds a paper brimful of scrawls and cartoonish doodles. Some fonts in cursive reach outside the line, a great offence to Megumi's perfectionism.

"Let's start with the first problem."

Naoya puts down his coffee mug with a shrieking clink. "You made a list. For your problems."

The paper crinkles but Yuuji carries on unflustered. "Number one: I'm bothered by planning ill-considered engagements that may do us more harm than good."

"Maki and Toge have clarified that for you," Naoya contributes, easing into an unfazed sag. "There is no reason to have misgivings when your alpha feels the same way. Don't shoo the feelings away, pinkhead. Open your legs and let 'em ram you straight to heaven. Or hell, whatever pleases your faith."

"Not my alpha," Yuuji harrumphs. He scans his note and reads aloud the second item: "I'm scared the feelings might just be temporary."

"Any man who promises to better their education for your sake is a good man." Naoya commends. "And if that man has enough wealth to buy himself an island, the better."

"I don't want his money." Yuuji frowns. "I want the assurance. That what we'll have will be everlasting."

"Those romance books of yours ought to teach you a thing or two about idealizing relationships," Naoya grumbles. "Okay, first and foremost stop using the word everlasting. Second, you said he kissed you when you asked him about the state of your affairs – nauseating I'd say, but I'm also mates with your brother – and told you (more like tongued some sense into you) that everything he's saying is true. Listen, I've heard some stuff about this white-haired alpha of yours. Sure, he's a bit of a philanderer (too much of a philanderer), and his previous relationships may not have lasted within the ideal 3-month trial period–"

"You're worsening things for me."

"– but. You're not really giving him an opportunity to prove his conviction by doing this. And before you demand for it, make it certain that you're not lacking confidence either." 

Yuuji juts his lip in concentration. He nips the inside of his cheek, astounded that the older omega is actually making sense.  

"I like him," He's said it many times before and he'll say it again and again. "And I want us to work."

Naoya pats the back of his head, a playful scolding. "Then do what you have to do to make it work. Loving is easy, Yuuji. Don't complicate what's already there."

"What's already there?" A croaky voice repeats.

Yuuji blankly stares at his reflection, the untouched milk distorting his features. His bowl of cereal stays cold and half-eaten as it was first prepared. The omega is enveloped in a cotton sweater so he is not as abandoned as his food. Gojo's, his inner voice unhelpfully supplies. It's big on his body, like a pair of arms hugging him from behind. Maybe Gojo. Again, the voice titters.

The unvoiced hope makes him think,

Have I always thought of him?

Three days into his purposeless idling and a bottle of bland drinks stripped of their unhealthy flavours later – Yuuji is yet to retire from his repetitive mulling. He spends so little outside of the apartment that even Megumi, the outside-hating, interaction-fearing person that he is, imposed on him a much-required break (although it's no doubt to free space for relentless fucking than anything). And after hours of surly arguments said in grumpy exhales that seemed to only persist in a cyclic wreck, Yuuji is forcibly kicked out of his fort of blankets to brace against the balmy morning of Spring. Or Summer. Nowadays, Yuuji doesn't keep track of the dates that much. Part of his melancholic phase, he can only suppose. 

The point is, withdrawn Yuuji is now thrust into the cradle of the streets and is unable to delight in his situation. He could go somewhere to mollify the rickety gears in his brain and stop them from decaying too early before his middle-age crises, but then, Yuuji would rather not walk more than his necessary two blocks. 

He hates this. Yuuji is hassled by everything around him he's beginning to believe it's not just the testy hormones ruining the fun for him. The view of the park is annoying. The couples making out beneath the trail of trees ignite the formerly dormant envy in him. The dogs taking a shit and their owners groaning in exasperation. The pastel colours of his beloved shops lined up across his favourite bench where two bastards are either licking the ice cream slathered on their fingers or getting off to the perverse couple next to them. The rippling lake. The giggling children. Some elderly couples dozing off to the gentle wind. 

God, he hates peace so much he wants to rebel against it.

And there's his dearest coffee shop too. Once upon a time, it had been the paragon of exquisiteness. Now, Yuuji bristles at the very sight of it. Too many students with their heavy books cast aside and unread. Too many professors downing three cups of caffeine and itching for a long trip to Hawaii. Worst, too many mates with their cherished pets or their cuddly, babbling babies. Some cashier nicknamed Oppai (poor him) and Gojo Satoru with some handsome blond and –

Wait.

Gojo Satoru with a handsome blond?

Yuuji gasps. His instincts blare at him at the same expeditious rate as his heartbeat. He ducks for cover and spies at the two. Gojo has one arm firmly secured around the smaller's shoulder, yapping without a care for his company's disinterest. The blond is dressed expensively. An alpha. He is clad in a suit of the most precise taste and an aura of distinguishable repute. High brows. Defined cheekbones. Strong jawline. And intelligent eyes too offended at the ineptitude of the world. But not at Gojo. He's irked but still attached. Fond and inclined to listen to whatever Gojo lovingly prates about. From afar, they present a sublime picture. Almost like...

"Lovers."

He hears more than feels the wobble of his legs. The dribble of unbidden tears wet his cheeks, clogging his nose and painting him a morose red. 

"Yuuji?"

He also hears more than sees the blurry figure of Gojo. The alpha is tall, flawlessly sculptured, stupidly bewitching and...all things Yuuji is incapable of achieving.

Yuuji is not good enough.

Of the many things Yuuji promised not to do on a Sunday morning, it's to break down in the middle of a sidewalk and block half of the incurious passersby's path. He never expected to do it in front of Gojo either.

"Yuuji! Are you okay?" Gojo kneels to his level and gently grips the inferior shake of Yuuji's shoulders. 

There is a muted shuffling as the omega hears the blond speak, in a politely-worded reminder, "It appears you have some things to talk about in private."

The hold enclosing Yuuji jerks. Gojo calls out the other's name, confounded and alarmed. "Nanami, about the gift –"

"I'll drop it at your house later." The alpha, Nanami, assures tersely.

Yuuji fails to stop himself. He flinches out of Gojo's careful touch and scowls in between hiccups. "Y-you let him in your house? Are you two...are you two dating?"

"What? No! Yuuji –" The bend of the man's knees staggers. Gojo winces out a frustrated damn it and tugs Yuuji up to a protective side-embrace. "Let's move this conversation elsewhere first."

They trudge towards the park, with Gojo tenderly caressing his heaving back and Yuuji lagging a few inches behind in embarrassment. 

Luckily, there are only a few intrigued eyes peering at the scene he's caused. Some are peeved, some brazenly prying, but others are mostly unconcerned. Not so luckily, Gojo is among the heedful lot.

"Sit here, I'm going to buy you some water."

"No!" Yuuji's mortification betrays him. He snappily stretches his hand even with the anxiety seeping through his next batch of tears.

Gojo twitches in confusion. Taking a gander at the fringe of his coat, the beige fabric crumpled in the clinging clench of Yuuji's fists, he slowly retreats back to the younger's side and descends into the space next to him. The bench whines under the added weight but Gojo's slow recline maintains a sturdy foundation.

"So..." The alpha starts, conflicted and sheepish. Expertly, he detaches Yuuji's adherent handgrip on him and links the jittery fingers to his own. Thumb soothes thumb, generous with its heat. "Care to tell me why you suddenly showed up wailing in front of your favourite store after a week of cutting off any contact with me?"

Yuuji suppresses a whimper. He clasps the warmth of a larger palm, bashful. With an unstable exhale, he forces his voice to come out. "I got scared."

Thumb on knuckles. Pale to flushed. Gojo raises a patient brow. "You got scared?"

"This is the first time I felt like this with anyone. And I was sure of it. I am sure of it. I just..." A sickly sniff. Then, he's handed a handkerchief. Silky, not good for the snot but Yuuji will just have to make do. "I couldn't stop doubting if you were too. A-and I felt bad about it. Because I know you're trying and, and I know you're thoughtful and romantic and you're...Gojo Satoru. But you're also Gojo Satoru and I-I can't keep up with a Gojo Satoru! I'm not – I don't think I'm good enough for you."

Yuuji stops for air. His body deflates out of unconscious relief. The silk cloth twirled at his fingertips are pried away from him and discarded into the nearby bin. Pity, it looked expensive.

"You okay now?" The question comes out innocent, treading on a thin wire.

Yuuji inhales sharply, the hood of Gojo's sweater cuddling his cheeks. "Sort of." A skip, and his heartbeat spikes up in disquiet. Ah, the unwelcome return of trepidation. "Who was that guy you were with?"

Gojo swipes across the ridges of his palm, imperturbable. Quiet. Fathomless. Not the least bit insulted. He should be, but he hasn't let slip the slightest indication of hurt. Yuuji dwells on the reasons behind his nonchalance but only comes out more insecure at the consideration of Gojo not caring about him at all.

"He's a friend of mine." The response cuts through the fragility of the atmosphere. Yuuji turns his chin to fully study the older's face. Gojo gazes at him with nothing but shrewd understanding. "Yuuji, I..." an awkward rub to the neck, and Gojo's calmness turns into an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry I let you suffer all of these insecurities by yourself. I feel so useless not being able to help you through it."

"It's my fault." Yuuji shakes his head, cast down. "I shouldn't have ignored your messages. Everyone was telling me to communicate my doubts with you but...I was terrified I might not get the assurance I wanted. I'm sorry for being selfish."

"Hey," Gojo softly disagrees. "There's nothing selfish about what you're feeling. I get it, really. I know I don't have the most promising dating record nor do I appear the least likely to commit adultery but – I wanna try, Yuuji. Not the adultery thing. I meant the whole commitment thing. With you. I, sincerely, wholeheartedly, and truthfully do."

"You just used three synonyms in one sentence." Yuuji's giggle comes out watery, but he finds his eyes freely beaming.

"That means I'm dead serious." Gojo fiddles with his hand, grinning. "And to be honest, sometimes I get scared too."

"Yeah?" Yuuji asks, jolting. "You? Of all people? Getting scared? I don't believe it."

"That's because you don't see yourself the way I do. If someone told me I would end up with the sweetest, most considerate and, not forgetting, the most beautiful person I have ever come across in my entire life – I'd be scared shitless. I wouldn't know how to compare to that. And sometimes I think I can't ever. But," Gojo brings the omega's hand to his lips, leaving a kiss on each scarlet knuckle. 

"I'd rather be scared for the remainder of my living days if it means just being with you."

"You're so cheesy." Yuuji cries harder despite his light teasing. 

Gojo sends him a cheeky smile. He wordlessly guides Yuuji to himself. With his long, strong arms, Yuuji feels his apprehension dying down and leaning into the acceptance he's openly showered with. Gojo sways them, planting a kiss on his forehead, and adds, "My sweater looks good on you by the way."

Yuuji plays with the alpha's collar, "I want this next."

"Anything you want, Yuuji." Gojo says. "I'll give you anything you want."

They walk back home, hands not once untangling. Yuuji is content and not as easily unsettled by any intrusions in his head. Serenity, finally.

"Yuuji?"

They only teeter when Yuuji hears a meek tone ask for him.

"Megumi?"

The beta stares at them from his spot by the entrance's stairway. He's soaked all over, perhaps for having stayed outside in the growing drizzle. Gojo promptly removes his coat and hangs it over the younger's frame. Yuuji sits beside him, warming up his shivering palms.

"What happened? Where's Sukuna?"

A shuddering breath and, "We broke up."

Chapter Text

"I told him he could look for someone else."

Megumi is well into his fourth cup of caffeine when he finally budges and retells the story in heaving snippets, tongue affronted and voice scratched. Satoru had taken the liberty of stirring him a beverage in their quaint, humble and mildly-managed kitchen while Yuuji tended to the tremors of the beta's back. There isn't much to pick apart from the fragments of information Megumi croakily recounts, but they are able to grasp the gist of it. 

"We were just talking about kids a-and then he brought this whole conversation about our future –of us being together and having one of our own but..."

"You weren't sure if it could happen." Yuuji continues helpfully. 

Megumi nods away from the pitiful eyes riveted on him. A shaky sip, and then a streak of melancholy paints over the dried tacks staining his ruddy cheeks.

He's heard the same grievings casually and (often) regrettably thrown around more times than he could recall. Betas wishing for the same biological benefits, or praying to land in the favoured 20% of the aptly named better-favoured rarities. Their neighbour, from when he was young – a sweet beta couple easing into their middle twenties, sighing about a child they could never have. Or the pretty florist just across Chousou's apartment, chuckling about his daydreams of having triplets. Maybe they could be like you three, he'd lightly joke, bristling with well-disguised mourning, a tactless bunny like Nobara, an unsociable cat like Megumi or a flippant puppy like yourself.

He would add, in that unchanging tone of heartache, how his ex-husband would have cared for them more and beyond. 

Our own little pet shop of a home. There's Daddy bear, papa bear, and their three wild babies.

Since then, Yuuji hadn't dared to ask about the ring that hid behind the florist's fancy compartment. Locked away – abandoned.

"He doesn't show it, but he loves kids." There is a crack in the boy's cadence, breath slowing down solely to shatter. Gojo, from a safe distance, subtly coughs his disbelief. "If... there is a better future for him that's not with me, who am I to rob him of that?"

"Megumi..." Yuuji brings him to the fluff of his embrace, locking their bodies to a firm attachment. He senses the overwrought nerves transferring to him, febrile when maintained longer. The omega is beginning to hate the desolate slouch of his friend's composure. Yuuji already sees it, that sinking feeling of surrender in Megumi's hollow eyes – a faltering resolution fraying his faith. "I know my brother. And he's not exactly the most ideal family guy. He doesn't love kids because he's open to being a parent. He's only interested in them because he wants one with you. Sukuna is..." 

Yuuji crinkles his face in a clumsy attempt, disrelished by the mawkish words about to leave his mouth. Inwardly, he apologizes for all the times he's made his friends watch him and Gojo flirt excessively. They're sickening, he realises now.

"Megumi, he loves you. So much. He doesn't say it a lot but he does." 

"I know he does," A dry hiccup, followed by a painful quaver and watery sneeze. Gojo quietly passes him the tissue box and excuses himself out of the room. "But I also know this will be good for him."

"And what about you? What if you let him go now and then regret it later? You think that's good for you?" Yuuji hears his voice louden out of worry. He exhales calmly in defeat, convinced there wouldn't be any persuading Megumi out of whatever belief he's implanted in his thoughts. 

"That doesn't matter." 

Megumi utters it with an unshakeable conviction that Yuuji just about bawls in mortification. He's torn between bemoaning his brother's negligence (the inadvertent impassivity he must have had to have fostered one festering insecurity) and Megumi's own inattention (the gnawing disinclination he must have nurtured until he has unconsciously established a contentious decision for himself). 

It's a conceivable verity that Yuuji isn't the only blundering doubter in this lively family of his. But he learns too, how idiotic his senseless ventures were into diagnosing the frailty of his relationship with Gojo. You see a struggle palpably reflective of your predicament and suddenly, you appear more foolish. Thank god for the patience of his loyal listeners (despite being indisposed to sentimental consolations – and given no remuneration for their excellent services).

"It matters, Megumi." He musters the confidence to say. He holds in his grasp Megumi's frosted fingers, pursuing the lines of debility patent in his shivering. "If you're going to end up being unhappy, your efforts would turn out pointless."

"Sukuna will appreciate it." Comes out a diffident mumble.

Yuuji presses on his knuckles. He doesn't quite know how to go about this. Just because he's got his shit together, does not mean he can competently assuage people of their depressed blues. Damn it, where is Naoya when you need his expertise.

"You think he'd want to see you miserable for the rest of your life?" – so he opts for what he feels best.

Megumi grunts, cowering in incertitude. He parts his lips for a retort but only comes up with a static hush.

"You're probably keyed-up because of all the bottled up apprehension. Give yourself the time to think about them more carefully. You don't have to stress yourself over things that haven't happened yet. That's what you always tell me, right? " Yuuji cradles his cheeks. Megumi leans in, his drained spirit unmistakable. "Get some rest. We'll try to figure things out tomorrow together, okay?"

Megumi furrows his brows but closes his eyes. "You're not going to change my mind."

"Nobara and I will try anyway." Yuuji insists. He tugs the boy to his feet, staggering then regaining balance. They mosey through the narrow hallway and pass by a dozing Gojo yawning his way back to alertness. "And Maki-san, Yuuta-san, Toge-san..." Eventually, they enter past the threshold and aim straight for Megumi's cabinet. Yuuji disconnects the link of their hands and surveys around the wider drawers for a blanket. He wordlessly instructs Megumi to lie down on his mound of downy pillows and neatly ironed sheets.

"Even Sukuna." He adds with no intention of the name being a misplaced afterthought. At a kind pace, he lays the blanket over Megumi's lethargic body.

The beta murmurs an objection that lingers unresponded. Yuuji doesn't hearken the rest of his unwell whispers, mentally promising to himself to punch his brother thrice on the balls once he can meet with him. 

"You think you'll both be okay?"

Yuuji twists in slight shock. There, by the door's frame, Gojo poses charmingly against the foundation. He is chary of his volume. Arms folded. Lips a fine curve. And eyes a captivating blue moon in the shadows of approaching dusk.

"You can stay, you know," Yuuji says with no shame. He doesn't have to, Gojo is his (or so Gojo fervently proclaims). Shyness is not a necessary excuse when there is no requirement for one. When Gojo stares at him with glaring admiration, his mind automatically eradicates all plans of having to cover up his frankness.

"Won't he need a cuddle buddy for the night?" The alpha points out. 

Yuuji gives his friend a gentle pat on the cheek before egressing. Gojo follows on cue, pockets stuffed with his lax hands. 

"Megumi doesn't like it when there are other people on his bed. He finds it invasive to have to share." Yuuji shuts the door before flicking the lights on to brighten their path. "Sukuna has only ever been the exception."

Gojo hums, smart with his silence. "Not that I care about what your brothers think but, you sure they won't hunt me down for coming here uninvited?"

"I went to your apartment before, what's the worst that could happen?" Yuuji shrugs. He continues to lead them to his room, set on bringing out his softest and most decorative quilt. He's had it drowned in the comfiest scent of Nobara's detergent, thankfully. "Besides, I'm sure Chousou-nii is giving Sukuna an earful by now. He's lucky Nobara and I haven't paid him a visit yet. It'll take more than a few kicks to knock some sense into that guy so he could actually do something."

"You injuring your brother? That's hot." Gojo muses unblushingly. 

Yuuji rolls his eyes at him but exerts much energy into pushing him inside. "Nobara will come home soon. I've already told her about the whole situation." 

He decides not to add her uncensored cautions of safe sex. It's better not to give Gojo any impure ideas too soon. (His internet history tingles in excitement, laden with random queries of 'Is it safe to have sex while pregnant? Or, Will my baby be okay if I get railed? And, What's the safest dick length to allow your pregnant self a good ride?). Suffice to say, Gojo's package is scarily ahead of the safety spectrum. It's a no for now, he chides himself.

"Right," Gojo cheerily leaps into the heap, unexpressed qualms fading briskly. His arms and legs splay about. Yuuji has to gawk elsewhere to not salivate over the peek of toned muscles under his shirt. "So which side of the bed do you prefer? Left? Right? Or below me, if you're into that."

Of course, Yuuji shouldn't worry about his urges snapping out of control when Gojo has his on a loose leash. 

"I'd rather we cuddle." Tonight, however, Yuuji is low on juvenile lust. Adequate for a slimy wanking, but unrehearsed for a pleasurable finish.

Gojo wiggles his eyebrows, teeth sparkling. "My, my~ how nasty of my sweet peaches." 

"Has anyone ever told you that you're a weirdo?" Yuuji removes the sweater in a lackadaisical movement, appeasing his skin while half the warmth escapes his body. He doesn't hear much from Gojo but his nervous chuckle, clearing his throat like he's stumbled upon a cumbersome sight – oh.

Yuuji looks at himself, skin barely covered and thighs naively presented for ogling. Then his lips quirk. His eyes, though innocently wide, are shaped connivingly to the same pert grin. With an uncharacteristic show of assertiveness, he struts to the unwrinkled part of the sheets and crawls dangerously close to Gojo's side. 

"My, my ~ how dirty of you, Gojo-san."

His alpha buffers within an instant. Yuuji could hear the piercing ring of a missile about to explode into the sky, the older's face relaxing into the pathetic expression of a drooling dog. 

Yuuji muffles his laughter and immediately pinches Gojo's nose. "I'm kidding, Gojo-san. Stop being so horny all the time."

The alpha lets his head fall on Yuuji's chest, groaning into the thinness of his clothing. He takes revenge with a simple tweak of the omega's thigh. Yuuji giggles from the ticklish press of his nails but does not reject the pull of Gojo's arms. Their distance is narrowed down to a scant centimetre. Head on his chest. Spry hands on his waist. His own around Gojo's neck, cradling silver locks. 

"You're such a tease."

 "I learned from the best."

A proud snicker and then Yuuji is held tighter.

"Gojo-san?" A lazy hum responds. "Do you think things will be okay tomorrow?"

There is tranquillity before Gojo breaks it, nose breathing in the younger's scent and lips moving against the indent of Yuuji's collarbones. 

"Things don't right themselves right away. And especially not on their own. It's up to them if they want everything to be fine tomorrow."

Yuuji braids two strands together. He's not completely pacified, but he feels relief set in.

"Yeah, you're probably right."

"You know, I only try hard because it's you." He feels Gojo sneak a palm underneath his shirt. For a moment, Yuuji suspects something perverse will come out of the older's mouth. He's pleasantly bewildered when the caresses circle affectionately around his hips and Gojo continues, predicting,  "If they care about each other the way we do, then they're sure to work things out."

"Look at you." Yuuji lilts his praise, massaging the man's head. "You're finally saying something wise."

Gojo gently nips on exposed skin. A wounded pretence scowls at Yuuji, gainsaying the omega. "I'm always wise."

"Maybe not all the time." Yuuji tests.

The banter dies abruptly at the suspension of Gojo's childish disagreement. Yuuji feels the palm quell their soothing fondles. He pouts, about to whine, when –

"Hey, Yuuji?"

"Hm?"

"Did your bump just get bigger?"

Yuuji chortles. His fingers return to toying with the man's hair. "Yes. And please stop touching there, it tickles."

"Hold on," Gojo shushes excitedly. He bows his head and dives in the covers to inspect Yuuji's tummy. Now, there are two palms tenderly massaging his belly. "Oh my god, they're growing!"

"Yes, Gojo-san they're – hey, wait! I said it tickles!"

The omega's hissing whines and jittery squirms end up unnoticed. Within seconds, Gojo is squeezing his cheek against his stomach and peppering it with chaste, feathery kisses. He whispers lulling words to the bump, acting as though he were a storyteller mooning over princes and princesses. Truly and adoringly obsessed. Had it not been the torment of his wispy touches, Yuuji would have tittered just as endearingly at Gojo. 

"Gojo-san, stop that –" Yuuji nearly yanks the man by the ear to relieve himself of the added weight when he picks up on Gojo's dulcet tones.  

"You're going to be loved."  

It's almost an incoherent swish. A whisper of the breeze. It's mellow and tender and full of earnest promises. It sings a tuneful melody that courts his heartbeat into singing back the same honeyed vows. 

"I love you." 

The caresses stop. Gojo gives him a sudden jerk of his head, jaw slackened and irises a wobbling spectacle. Yuuji thinks he must be waiting for him to disclaim the words. He scares the other when he adds nothing instead. 

"You mean it?"

Yuuji nods without delaying a single beat. "I do. I absolutely, irrevocably, genuinely do."

Gojo blinks. "You just used three adverbs in one sentence." 

"Well," He pokes his nose, parting his bangs, "that must mean I'm dead serious."

The alpha laughs breathily. His shoulders shake, his grin stretching happily that even the wrinkles of his forehead appear ecstatic. Gingerly, like wisps creeping up his skin, Gojo leaves a trail of himself on him. A kiss for their baby. A kiss for his heart. A sly bite to mark his neck. Then,

"I love you too."

A long, sweet kiss for his lonely lips. They connect, scents mingling in the same tangle as their souls. Oh, what Yuuji would give for this to be forever.

It will, the comfort speaks in Gojo's voice, raspy and doting.

W e will.

It's another two weeks before Yuuji conclusively accepts the wreck that things are not going to be fine by tomorrow.

Yuuji and Nobara very sternly commit to their visits to Megumi's room. Gentle when they coax and lenient with their tutting. They bring foods for soul-soothing, sometimes healthy and oftentimes greasy (the fried goods that can doom even the athletic and the hale to hell). Their fridge is inevitably loaded with ice cream tubs and sugar-filled treats, all ranging from the blandest of flavours to the sweetest and even to the most random of fruit concoctions. Slick, rich and heavenly, the tagline may tempt. A sugared trip to death by 50 – is really the only truth one should live by. 

"You sure you two are you going to be okay?"

Today, however, Yuuji may have to reschedule their daily idling in Megumi's room. And so do the movies they've hoarded into one memory-wasting inventory. 

"We'll be fine. Just don't forget to send us a photo later." Nobara's head pops out of the puffy comforter she shares with the beta. 

Yuuji struggles his way into the entrance's platform, limping in hesitation. "Yeah, I don't think..."

"I told you already," Megumi berates. His youthful features are muddled with grumpy lines. And his voice, though familiar, is scratched too harshly that it irritates the drafts sneaking into the crevices of their door's frames. "You don't have to act all awkward around me. I don't mind it, really."

"Even so..."

"Yuuji," Megumi calls his name with a tired lull. Half his face peeks from behind the covering of their couch. The gentleness still carries itself to the omega despite the muted barrier. "It's okay. I'd love to see them too."

Yuuji stands in their strait entryway, momentarily still. He sighs his reservations. The second he sees Megumi's gaze – an august blue dulled, but determinedly earnest– they're fleetly eliminated. Megumi has and always be the wiser of the three of them.

"Alright," Yuuji strides apace to force a farewell kiss on both of his friends. Their foreheads are smudged with his lip balm. But even when they bleat unintelligibly, he's certain they appreciate his gesture. 

"Take care." They advise in unison.

"You too!" He chirps and waves buoyantly. The rest of his enlivened humming continues until his figure egresses toward the balmy outside. 

Yuuji glimpses just below their floor, where Gojo expectantly watches him curtail their distance. Inspired by impish mirth, he treads the stairs in merry skips. His alpha fusses over the contrived risks of having to walk two flights. And when he reaches Gojo, the omega does not deny himself the thrill of excitement, leaping freely into the welcome of the man's arms and smelling home.

"You ready?" Gojo catches him with a wheezing grunt. He is strong but easily startled.

Yuuji answers with a grateful peck on the lips. He joins their hands, swaying them to the rhythm of his buzzing zeal.

"I can't wait to meet them."

"I was right to fear this day would be ruined."

"I felt the same." 

Yuuji glares at the noisemakers from his spot on the examination table. Machines whir about in the air. The stark gleam of white bounces off of each wall. 

"No fighting," The omega warns. He's dressed thinly in the hospital's gown, socked feet laxly hovering above the antiseptic floor tiles. "Unless you three want to get kicked out."

Chousou makes a sound of protest. "Don't lump me in with them, Yuuji. I promised myself to be on my best behaviour. I'm meeting my niece, after all."

"Or nephew." Sukuna counters. His burly build and flashy tattoos have him positioned on the farthest chair of the room, just a seat from an equally suspicious Gojo (or so the nurses may have negatively assumed – which is a first, Yuuji must note). 

"Ideas from sore losers who can't treat their lovers right will not be entertained."

"Fuck you, Chousou."

"No cursing." Yuuji has to occasionally remind. They've only been here for twenty minutes and a pandemonium is already in the making. The gale comes faster when there's too much lighting in one sky. Yuuji is the unfortunate citizen uninformed of the weather report.

"Shouldn't you be wallowing in your sorrows elsewhere?" Gojo grouses, huffy. "I can't tolerate your piss poor attempts at flirting with every nurse that walks by."

"Not like you're any better at it, wannabe playboy."

"As much I want to rectify that statement, I have to first remind you that the subject of all my affections is solely Yuuji."

"That's good to hear." Chousou nods approvingly. "Sukuna, you should take some notes instead of finding fickle distractions for your lovelorn spiting."

Their door creaks open.  As if impeccably timed, the ultrasound technician makes her entrance and cuts off Sukuna from roaring explosive spiels of betrayal and severed brotherhood. Yuuji sighs his regrets right as Gojo chimes in to rile him up further.

"Lively bunch." Ichiko, a good friend of Ieiri-san, straightens the rumples of her lab coat before setting up her tools. Yuuji sights the lubricating jelly and reclines on cue. 

"Ignore them," Yuuji suggests, apologetic. "I would be willing to kick them out but..."

"That's alright," Ichiko assures. She boasts a pretty smile, eyes relaxed and arms deft with the necessary preparations. "A lot of excited families can be like that sometimes. I'm assuming this is your first time?"

Yuuji surveys the bristling quarrel behind the woman's shoulder. Two against one. Surprisingly, the target of the ridicule is Sukuna. 

"Yup." The omega answers absently. He doesn't know why he bothers with checking up on his family when they're naturally inclined to a singular pattern of behaviour – being hotheaded fools, that is.

"You don't sound too elated." Ichiko remarks airily. She squirts a gel on Yuuji's abdomen, slathering the expanse on satiny skin. The golden tan is stretched more prominently. His stomach tells of passing times in just its glaring curve, more distinct than the rest of him. A human being. Just beneath those layers, his –no, their, own little human is growing into existence.

Yuuji winces from the cold but manages to say, "Sometimes I feel like there's unresolved sexual tension between them and I'm the unwitting fourth wheel."

"Please," Sukuna horns in on their less blusterous chatters, visibly miffed at the lighthearted assertion. Chousou appears barely disgraced, opting to return (more like scrape the tiles with his chair) to Yuuji's side for fear of missing out on every procedure's details.

"I'd rather die in an apocalypse than stay stuck with these dumbfucks."

"Not like I wish to be stuck with your company either." Gojo scoffs. "The only reason I'm tolerating you is because you're Yuuji's family. Although, I don't think I have to worry about any hindrances when you're doing extremely well at disappointing him."

"This is why you will never get my blessing."

"Here we go." Yuuji groans in vexation. Ichiko carries on as though she's dealt with madness all her life. 

The omega turns to the eldest for help (his expectations set low) – but chooses to forgo his hope for the slightest of miracles when he sees Chousou fixedly zoning out the spat. Stupidly unaffected. Complete with full disregard. His ability to be swiftly uncaring astounds Ichiko's perfected insouciance, posing as a formidable competition. It is not, however, conducive to the serene atmosphere Yuuji yearns for. 

"I have no need for your blessing," Gojo announces without skipping a beat that even the sporadic silence freezes in astonishment. "I doubt I'll be seeing you at my wedding anytime soon."

Sukuna slumps noisily in his seat, arms folded. "Like hell you will. There won't be any wedding."

"We've made some tremendous progress." Gojo twitters. The machine rings along to his cheery tune. "And from the looks of it, you're more likely to get disowned by your brothers than to get invited."

"Now, listen here you wretched brat –"

"Oh."

The room stills. Yuuji gazes up to where Ichiko continues to peruse the picture, transducer concentrated to one area.

Chousou holds his brother's hand, "Is there something wrong?"

Gojo and Sukuna look on with unstated fright. 

"No, this is...well," Ichiko chuckles in amazement. "The good news is we found your baby."

Yuuji tracks the glide of the sonographer's finger, intent on making out the figure interpreted in the image. "And the bad news?"

Ichiko smirks and then turns to Gojo. Her keen intuition must have told her who the father is minutes before Gojo could clarify it himself. 

"Well, Yuuji-san, the other good news is that there's two of them."

A clatter. And then Yuuji witnesses the exact moment Gojo faints to the ground and Sukuna disturbs the entire hospital with a full-blown cackle.

"Your Alpha is a pussy." Chousou comments, unsurprised.

Yuuji exhales, tightening his grip on his brother's hand. "I know."

"I am once again where I started."

Yuuji wipes off the sweat on the man's temple. "Stop with the dramatics. It's just your second time fainting."

Gojo cringes from the cold pack dabbing on the bump above his brow. "I feel so lame."

"Well, you kind of are." Yuuji shrugs, blase. "But that doesn't make you any less attractive to me."

"I was hoping you'd deny it more. Now my ego is just as bruised as my head."

Yuuji lays down a damp towel lent to him by one of the nurses. He plops himself next to the alpha, petting his hair and cooing in a joky fashion. "There, there you big baby. It's not the end of the world to collapse on your first meeting with the kids."

"Phrasing it like that just worsens my mood." Gojo's big shoulders shrink, frown deeper than the sulking sag of his back. "I wanted to look cool for them."

"You were just surprised. The doctor says it happens sometimes." Rarely, the doctor said. But his alpha doesn't need to know that. 

"Thank you for being patient with me." Gojo joins their hands together, confidence recovering. "I wish I got to see them firsthand though. The pictures don't do them justice."

Yuuji pinches his cheek. "You'll be the first one to see them when they get there."

"I guess so." The older grins. Suddenly, his eyes spark – an ultimate revival. He lets out an agog sound, perhaps reminded of whatever was hidden in his back pocket. Gojo is fast with his movements. One second he's rummaging for an item, the next he's presenting a box in front of Yuuji's eyes. It's long but thin. Fancy, velvet and definitely expensive.

"This is..." Yuuji opens the cover. He's met with the sight of luminescent silver and blinking diamonds. The necklace shines all the way to the small, glossy orb. It's blue and near translucent, a wealthy imitation of water. Inside the crystalline blue dances a minuscule sculpture of the sea-life, brimming with specks of rays and gold flakes and..."Whales?"

"Nanami helped me with the shades. Figured my flamboyant love for hot pink won't match well with the design I envisioned." Gojo takes the jewellery from Yuuji's palm and proceeds to adorn the omega's neck with it. His knuckles gently brush against his nape, warm like his tone. "I could have asked Suguru and Shoko but all they could recommend was a golden dildo."  

Yuuji snorts. Curious, he casts another glance at the gift. "And I'm guessing I'm supposed to be the big whale?"

"If I knew we'd be getting two, I would have asked them for another baby whale in there."

"We can just think of it as two," Yuuji says, marvelling at the intricacies of the shapes. It's a shock he isn't offended by being compared to a whale. But Gojo has a way with his gestures. Yuuji just knows it's meant to be done out of love. 

"I love you." He lets slip again. 

The smile Gojo replies him with is blinding. "I love you too."

If it means seeing the colour bloom in Gojo's eyes – everyday, for the rest of his life – Yuuji will let himself slip a million times. 

Chapter Text

"When you said things were going to be fine by tomorrow, I didn't think 'tomorrow' would mean 2 months later."

– and they're not exactly fine, mind you. Megumi is yet to speak with Sukuna. Sukuna is yet to man up and compromise. They're yet to do anything productive. Unavoidably, beset by prideful denials, the problem has grown alongside Yuuji's stomach. It's considerably bigger than the last time they've let it mature into a rotting hostility. 

Now, they are both embittered. Now, it is up to external forces to mend the foolishness of their stubbornness. Repairing shit and moulding them into one. A disgusting metaphor, but Yuuji is high on absurd cravings and too obliging with his hormones to care about acting pragmatic or sagacious (whichever quality resolves more).

"Oh please," Ieiri draws the nicotine out of her lungs, bold lipstick staining the thin, silver rim. The woman separates herself from Yuuji at a conscious distance. Always the accommodating second host (or so her generous visits to Gojo's apartment heavily insinuates), she limits her smoke to two, hastily-inhaled sticks. 

"Like you could ever trust Gojo's words. Here's a crucial tip for you, wifey: do not leave the decision-making to this dumbass if you ever want your marriage to last."

"He's disappointed me already." Yuuji munches on a tangerine drenched in watery peanut butter. Gojo flinches sheepishly by his right. "If he pitches us a smart idea, I'll give him another chance."

"Sometimes I wonder if all those love confessions you tell me daily are just fantasies I deluded myself into believing."

"Perhaps," Yuuji says without delay. 

Gojo pouts, annoyingly attractive. "I'll just pretend it's the cranky hormones talking." 

"Save the flirting for later, children." Getou steals their curiosity to himself. His fashion is nifty even when clad in bland colours. "We held this conference on short notice for crucial reasons and flaunting your domesticity is not one of them."

"My apologies, Getou-san." Yuuji softens his tone purely out of admiration. The alpha is a tasty delight for tired eyes, one should not discredit. But Gojo is tastier, his partiality will avouch. "We can start with your suggestions first."

"First of," Gojo counts with his fingers, "nothing about this is short notice. In fact, this whole thing has been long overdue. Second, please stay away from my Yuuji for at least 5 feet, he's ogling at you again. And third –" He tuts before Yuuji could excuse his gawping as a mere trick of the devil, "We all know I have the best ideas so let's begin with mine."

"Okay," Getou agrees with little quibble to sneak in his interruption. "But just tell Yuuji-kun I find him just as equally fetching."

"I know this is a little joke between the two of you but now I'm getting worried."

"Hey! No joking about infidelity." Yuuji leans away from the support of Gojo's side-embrace, composure rattled. He flicks Gojo's forehead for good measure and returns to snuggling into the protection of his arms. The omega intentionally muffles the continuation of his brief lecture, cheeks ruddy. "Not like I ever want anyone but you."

"Cute but cloying." Ieiri monotonously rates. She adds an applause, the rhythm slack. "Now to business. Shoot your chance, dumbass #1."

Gojo easily assumes he's the one being pertained to and clears his throat. The gruff resonance consequently drives Yuuji into heightened (lecherous) awareness. His nibbling is unchaste when he pays close attention.

"How about we lock them up in a –"

"That's too cliche." Ieiri effortlessly shuts down. She points her stare at Getou, deemed dumbass #2. "Let me guess, your idea is to tie them up and force them to apologize to each other."

"Something along those lines, yes." Getou smiles, rascally. "It has a 45% success rate. But including a gun would escalate our victory up to 20% more. More or less."

"I must warn you that we want nothing illicit." Yuuji points out, horrified that he has to interject with such a reminder. 

"Then that scraps out half of my following propositions." Gojo gripes. 

"And all of mine." Getou pipes.

Ieiri, the most judicious of the bunch, dabs her cigarette butt as if sorely inconvenienced. "I knew you'd both be useless." 

"Then what do you advise, clever girl?" Gojo imitates an irritable accent, boorish with his character.

The woman wags her middle finger. "The reason there's a lack of progress is that there's no opportunity for them to be at the same place. If you force them to interact for the sake of deflecting any awkwardness, you have to thrust them into a situation they have no power over. Preferably somewhere that involves a lot of crowds."

"That corresponds excellently with our plans." Getou meddles, jaunty and palms aloft. 

"Well, your schemes are illegal." Yuuji corrects. "Ieiri-san's makes a lot of sense." He taces his bump as he conceptualizes an array of achievable scenarios and timely arrangements. "If we're talking about situations that impel someone to interact, we're better off relying our chances on get-together events right?"

"Definitely." Ieiri pops a gum she had materialized seemingly from nowhere. "The more familiar faces in a gathering, the smaller the likelihood of your persuasion failing."

"That could be true," Gojo admits, "But don't forget, we're talking about an introvert and an asshat here. Neither of them comes off as the personable type."

"But they do have manners." Yuuji rectifies his inference. "Megumi is respectful. Sukuna is, well – he's amiable in his own, Sukuna-ish way."

Gojo outright boos in disrespect. Getou isn't as judgemental, but he gestures a thumbs down too. The two of them certainly have some dastardly vendetta against his brother. 

"That settles it then." Ieiri supplements for the lack of defence. It's two against two – a balance of conflicting wits. "Just have them attend a birthday party. Or a wedding, if you've got enough friends in their adventurous 20s." 

"Yuuta's birthday is this month. We can bet on that one working." He does not discredit the thoughtlessness of his friends, but he doubts they're one for extreme devil-may-care decisions. Although, he really shouldn't be the judge of incautious actions when he's been terribly rash that he got himself knocked up on his first party. All's fair in hypocrisy, he must declare. 

"You guys are invited by the way."

"We have to," Ieiri appreciates gladly. "My instincts tell me I'm gonna miss out on the drama if I don't."

"I'm not one to refuse free drinks, so count me in." Getou twitters. 

"Tch," Gojo scowls. "No-good freeloaders. Don't spoil them with your hospitability, Yuuji. They're going to make you regret it."

"You know, it's been proven by science and a long track record of misbehaviour – that leaving Gojo out of the plans will improve your success rate by 60%."

"Screw you, Getou."

Yuuji suspires, eyelids leaden and weight heavy with drowsiness. He concludes that wherever he goes, regardless of the climate, the chaos of banter will follow him diligently. It's not a revelation that it's mostly caused by Gojo's presence. But he's not to blame either for being unappreciative about it.

The omega slumps against Gojo and relieves himself of the nuisances. One glimpse of his handsome profile and three seconds of tender caresses – he's back to being a smitten fool.

Oh well, he's tolerated the man long enough. He can endure the troubles for a lifetime if he has to.

It appears that Yuuji, when pregnant, is one lustful creature. His carnal absorptions have never been more vicious than they are now – right when he's stuck to mundane tasks safe for his tummy and his location is blessed with a front seat to Gojo's display of sinful, prurient enchantment. Yuuji has never been this lewd of an omega. But perhaps, Gojo is truly the rightful alpha capable of provoking his salacious side. That and his increasingly demanding libido, of course. He's a degenerate, he accepts now.

The omega sees the man decline a ladder and hangs an ornate cord with just the raise of his arm. His biceps flex, the perfect lighting tracing every detail of his covered muscles. 

Damn him, really. Being tall shouldn't look that appetizing.

"This sucks." Yuuji bites on another unused gift wrapper.

"Tell me about it," Yuuta grumbles, assigned to the same tedious duty as Yuuji. "I have to help decorate my own birthday party. Are you sure you guys are my friends?"

"No complaining." Nobara throws him a tape. Her focus is split between glueing glitters on the party hats and drinking from a bottle of high-priced wine (it's Gojo's extravagant treat, Yuuji! Let me in on the luxury before monopolizing the blessings all to yourself). 

"We bought you that expensive Inumaki-look-alike-doll-figurine so you don't get a say in this. That thing cost me a month's worth of allowance. You hear that Yuuta? A month's worth of allowance."

"Okay, okay! Chill out. Geez, I get it, you guys love me." Yuuta winces his surrender. Not quite genial, but adequately feigned to avoid agitating the unwanted wrath of broke college students.

"We thank you for the additional effort." Yuuji does not forget to acknowledge. It's a good thing Gojo's gone into the kitchen to pester the designated cooks. Without him constantly running around in that black shirt and streetwear cargo of his, Yuuji wouldn't survive a day. 

"Thank me later when your plan is a success." Yuuta huffs. Then he directs his frowning chin to the prattles echoing around the bay window. "Better keep watch on your target, someone's eager to prey on him."

Yuuji surreptitiously peeks at Megumi and sees him nodding along to a blethering Kamo. They're talking about academics, from what his sharp hearing is picking up. The topic matches most of Megumi's interests, some intriguing in its orgasmic way (the beta's oddity, not his). 

Son of a bitch.

"Remind me again why we invited that guy?"

"It's Yuuta's fault." Nobara sips her wine. "He's friends with a bunch of losers."

"You're definitely one of them." Yuuta dodges the strike of another item but leans too fast his back hits against the un-cushioned floor. 

"No scrimmage." Yuuji deadens his tone but makes his glare pierce. Yuuta obliges in one blink while Nobara judges him with a pettish whisper of "you'd make a scary mother"  – an insult he swimmingly ignores as he surveys through the crowd for a cretinous redhead.

Sukuna loiters around the left corner of the room, shadowed by the arch of a poorly scrubbed alcove. He'd arrived later than others – casually dressed and wholly invested in Getou's speech of historic superstitions. Both of them scarily make up an unlikely pair. The man is calm, Yuuji will give him that. No cherry hair out of place or veins popping in indignation. Not even a whit of demented temper. But then the breeze changes and freezes unexpectedly from the chilling drop of the atmosphere.

What appears to be crafty nonchalance falls the minute Megumi's laughter resounds with Kamo's snickering gibes.

Yuuta and Nobara shuffle to the longer couch and produce a bowl of popcorn out of thin air. "Ohhh, this will be good."

Yuuji concurs. This could be good. He exhorts himself into playing the uncaring bystander and watches on with peak anticipation. He surmises, tentatively inspirited, that this might just be the drama Ieiri has been prophesying (beseeching) for days.

Three taps. Sukuna taps on the brim of his glass. Then on the middle. A swish of his alcohol and –

"Wait, he's not doing anything," Nobara comments curiously. "He's heading for the bathroom."

Yuuta acts the part of the secondary commentator. "He's chickening out. No – hold on, he's taking his drink with him. Oh man, this guy is going to cry in the tub, isn't he?"

"Yeah right," Nobara scoffs. "I'm pretty sure he's gonna punch a hole through your wall. That guy's ripped as hell. Given his delinquent past, you might as well prepare for damages now."

Yuuta gapes. He scrambles towards the older's path before withdrawing out of panic. "Okay, someone has got to get that man out of my bathroom before he transforms into the hulk and vandalizes my newly placed tiles."

"No, no," Yuuji tuts. "We can use this to our advantage. If Sukuna loses control of his jealousy, he's going to realise his mistake and get his act together."

"As much as I wish the best for Megumi, I sincerely do not want to help him at the expense of my new flooring."

"Relax, would you?" Nobara yanks him back to the sofa. "You can charge him for the damages after. That guy's loaded. Yuuji can ask for the compensation if he has to."

"But I just got them fixed. I can't let him defile it! Yuuji, you gotta –"

"Not now." Yuuji shushes. "Megumi just noticed he's gone. He's looking for him."

"So this is a development." Nobara hums. She chokes when she sees the eyes wander longer. "Fuck, he's searching for us next."

Megumi scans the room and lands his sight on them. He wanders towards their area in hasty strides, sceptical of their shaky smiles. The three hurriedly put on an innocent facade. As if inspired by cartoonish habits, they decide to whistle their nosiness away. Totally suspicious.

"You guys are acting weird," Megumi comments as he claims the left of Nobara's free space.

"What? Pshh." Yuuji waves his hands nervously. "I-I'm just in one of those moods again. You know, typical pregnancy randomness."

"Same for me," Yuuta yelps at the jab. He clears his throat, uneasy. "I-I mean, I'm also in one of my random moods. It's a seasonal thing so no worries."

Megumi squints. "Okay...you guys need help with the decorations? I'm starting to feel useless around here. No one's tasked me with anything yet."

That's because you're supposed to be fixing your shit together, you idiot. "Why don't you cut some more ribbons for me so we can beautify these plainly-wrapped gifts."

Nobara coughs at the mockery and swallows her irritation with the aid of her drink. Yuuta pretends to busy himself over the unfinished party hats, no longer carping. 

"The party's going to start soon," Megumi remarks, oblivious to their plotting. 

Yuuji checks his wristwatch and prays for progress. "Let's just hope nothing goes wrong."

Yuuji, by now, should know that he's a professional at jinxing things.

Sukuna has decidedly planted himself beside the unkempt alcove. Megumi is 10 feet across from him, guarding a drunk Nobara against her harmful antics. Three cases of beer already passed around and they're yet to exchange a single word with each other. Four instances of moronic palavers and they're yet to erase the curse of Yuuji's gullible predictions. Chousou has embarrassed himself. Naoya has abandoned him to gossip with (nettle) Maki. Toudou has completed his speech of camaraderie and wept his congratulations for Yuuji. Toge and Yuuta have gone to the bathroom for a loud romp. The omegas have fawned over Yuuji's stomach for the twentieth time, Gojo basking in every praise and Getou raining on his parade without fail.

("What are you feeling proud for? All you had to do was shoot out semen. Yuuji's the one carrying your team."

"This is why you never get laid, Suguru.")

And yet – still. no. improvement.

"So maybe I was wrong," Ieiri exposes her remorseless realization. She gnaws on chicken meat, entertained despite the letdown. "I didn't expect the subjects to be this pigheaded."

"I'm to blame too." Yuuji scarfs down another salad. Lately, he feels more and more like an ungainly herbivore about to deforest the whole evergreen fields. "I should have accounted for this one."

"You think there's a need for you to intervene?"

Yuuji witnesses the exact second Sukuna's eyes flit about with no real point of focus and then falter at the scene just behind where Yuuji and Ieiri sit. It's Megumi, he deduces. Figures, Sukuna can only sustain his attention when Megumi is the subject. What changes in the constant observation he makes is the uncharacteristic diffidence of his build. The august stature, the baleful grimace and the canny mastery of bitching– eclipsed in a swift flutter.

"That's it." His patience snaps. He looks at his brother with unwavering determination and briskly marches toward him. 

The party is noisy, but Ieiri's whoops of good wishes (particularly for Sukuna's survival, he reckons) and Gojo's concerned calls (undisputedly for Yuuji, he surmises) are noisier. Much of Sukuna's protest goes unheeded as Yuuji shoves him inside the bathroom and angrily nudges for him to plop down on the closed toilet seat. 

A loud slam of the door. Three beats on muted repeat. He faces his brother, hands on waist and complexion aflame –

"What is wrong with you?!"

Sukuna frowns, unimpressed. "Do not raise your voice on me, young man –"

"Don't you dare, you dense staller!" Yuuji sharpens his glare. "If you just communicated your grievances months ago, you wouldn't be suffering this badly right now. You wasted most of your chances faking interest over other people when you could have been begging Megumi to take you back!"

The older covers his ears from his nagging. His brows crease, wearing a mulish expression. "Why should I be the one to beg? I think you're forgetting that I was the one who had to bear all the shit he said. Telling your partner to look for somebody else? The fuck was that all about?"

"Listen, nii-san." Yuuji calculates his steps. His gait is heavier when he aims for the space underneath the high sink. And when he bends, he holds his stomach as if afraid to jostle his babies awake. Sukuna, ever the churlish gentleman, offers his hand to guide him to his spot. 

"I know it hurt that he didn't think to confide in you first before deciding anything. And I know that what he said wasn't fair to you either. But we know Megumi – you know Megumi better than I do. That guy can be foolishly committed to whatever conclusion he's come up with. He'll stick through it until someone he trusts convinces him that he's wrong, that things are going to be fine. And there is no one else Megumi trusts more than you."

A rude scoff. "Why do I have to do all the work– hey! Stop pinching."

"I will if you stop being petty." Yuuji berates. "You're older, you're supposed to be wiser about relationships than me. I shouldn't have to lecture you about necessary compromises and whatnots. If you want things to go back to normal, you have to take the first step. It doesn't matter if you've done it before or that he's done it more times than you – what's important is that you're willing to make it work."

"You're fucking cheesy." Sukuna parries the slap before it lands on his cheek. He did not, however, anticipate the kick on his shin. 

Yuuji sighs. He traces the lines of his brother's palm, a silent consolation. "Megumi loves you. He loves you so much he was desperate to give you the future he thought was best for you. Don't you think he was just scared and needed you to be there for him?"

Sukuna loosely wraps his fingers around Yuuji's smaller ones. His silence is pensive. With a wearied exhale, he dispels his hesitation. 

"I'm only going to show you this once so you better shut your mouth or I'll cut off your alpha's dick."

Yuuji raises his brows, untrusting. "Okay, that sounds wrong on so many levels."

"And you say I'm the idiot." Sukuna deadpans. He lets go of the younger's hand. In a flash, a small and elegant golden box hovers over Yuuji's vision. 

"What – is this – are you – oh my god." The omega wheezes, speech cluttered. "Am I seeing this right? Sukuna, this is...!"

The ring blinks at him. Diamond stones adorning lustrous gold. Yuuji inspects the inside and sees the fancy cursive of Megumi's name.

"I was about to ask him the question that day," Sukuna says, sombre. The box fades just as quickly as it appeared. "Couldn't get a word in when he started rambling about kids and better partners – so I just walked out."

"And then Megumi didn't contact you again," Yuuji recalls, stupefied. His quivery gasp earns him a stiff nod.

"Look, I get it. He's frightened. He's only looking out for me. Emotions and all that crap." Sukuna cards through his locks, huffing. "But I'm also thinking about him. It just fucking sucks he doesn't trust me enough to believe I can make a better future for the both of us."

"Sukuna..."

A short exhale, harried by stress. And then Sukuna is back to being his stoic, imposing self. "Well, if shit doesn't work out, I'll just gift this to Chousou for his birthday."

"And if it does?" Yuuji hangs on to hope. He remains seated on the floor, caressing his bump for added strength. Somehow, the thought of his little miracles being with him placates his tumultuous musings.

"Leave it up to fate, I guess."

The omega pouts in distaste. "You don't believe in fate."

Sukuna does not answer. He holds out his hand for Yuuji's assistance. And when they exit the bathroom, devoid of the same energy as the lively bunch, Sukuna spends the rest of the night bidding farewell to nameless guests. There's not a minute spared for Megumi. No lingering ganders or jealous wariness. The night ends unresolved for the alpha.

"You okay?" Gojo hugs him when he returns to his side.

Yuuji presses his cheek to the older's neck. He casts Megumi a fleeting glance, breathing softly.

 "Yeah, I'm fine."

Let's leave it up to fate.

"So let me get this straight, Sukuna was about to propose?"

–Scratch that. Yuuji will not leave it up to fate. Not when fate is a fickle, unreliable, barely-engaged fixer of quandaries. 

"Yes. And no one knows but us." Yuuji leans in closer for confidentiality's sake. "Actually, it was supposed to be just me. But now that I've roped you into this, you may have to ready yourself for another assassination attempt."

"Nothing like a normal in-law tradition." Gojo slurps his drink, expectedly unperturbed. "So what are you gonna do about it?"

"I was hoping you'd have some ploys ready for me to choose from." So maybe, Yuuji is not as reliable either– but he's confident he's more trustworthy than fate. He also has Gojo's outlandish ideas to back him up. The perks of having an unorthodox partner.

"Do they have to be legal?"

The omega drums his nails against the table, steaming chocolate abandoned. "Depends on what counts as lawfully applicable for you."

Gojo hums. He brings his thumb and forefinger to his chin, imitating the posture of a philosopher on their journey to a groundbreaking scientific discovery. Though, in all honesty, he could just be daydreaming about humiliating Sukuna. 

"I'm imagining an impromptu wedding but I don't think a church would appreciate a devil staining their holy carpets."

"No, that's too spontaneous. We might give Megumi an aneurysm if we go with that."

"What about a beach outing?"

"Sukuna hates sand and Megumi loathes the outside."

"It's like a match made in heaven." Gojo twirls his straw. "A fancy party?"

"With suits and dresses?" Yuuji shakes his head. "Bankrupt students with ghastly debts."

"I could pay for it. And Chousou too."

The drumming stops. Even the clatters of silverware stutter in astonishment. A bit contrived, but Yuuji never claimed he wasn't one for dramatics. 

"You've become pretty chummy with Chousou." He remarks. "Should I be worried?"

"Nah, it's for character reference," Gojo smirks.

"You're applying for a job?" Yuuji cranes his neck.

"Not a job, more like a role." His alpha offers vaguely. "Anyway, I suggest we hold a costume party on the rooftop while the sky is full of stars. Zany and romantic. The right type of occasion that will tickle the fun out of wallflowers (or demons)."

Yuuji notices the abrupt shift but chooses not to comment. He'll have to confront his brother later and probe for information. For now, he's concentrating exclusively on Megumi and Sukuna's plight.

"So we host another get-together and force them to talk?"

"Or," Gojo drawls, "we tell Sukuna our plans and convince – by we, I mean you – him to propose there."

"Wouldn't it be better for them to make-up first before doing that?"

"And let this whole problem circulate?" Gojo folds his hands and leans backwards. "They've been hindering their process for too long, this is an opportunity for them to figure out if they're ready for the same thing. If Megumi's shown that ring, he has to confront his true desires. Then Sukuna can get the answer he needs to either move on or persist."

"That does make sense but..."

The alpha pokes his forehead, "Honey, babes, my sweet peaches – those two are very serious creatures. That's why it's harder to get them to do something. Normal approaches won't work on hardheaded idiots. They have to be forced out of their comfort zones. Something as unprompted as a proposal is precisely what they need to get that uptight stick out of their asses."

"It's still too audacious for me." Yuuji worries. "What if the proposal just worsens the situation?"

"There's really no safe approach here, dear. Relationships come with risks. So, you either do whatever you can or regret not doing anything at all."

"And if it still fails?"

"That's just how it is for some people."

They start the party at 9, just when the buzz is overzealously absorbed in the vigour of the scene and college students are scarcely done with their unpunctual essays. There is an infinite supply of beer, soda and food, served in different varieties (courtesy of Chousou's charitable cards and Gojo's teeming bank account). Hanging lights dangle above the ceaseless babbles. The bare moon glares at the expanse of the city. Stars brighter and clouds rarer, everyone is happily preoccupied with the feel of the tranquil breeze. 

Nothing like a good Friday night unwinding. 

"Nervous?" A handsome pirate emerges before him, grinning with his leather eyepatch and billowy sleeves. "This might help you ease the unwanted jitters."

Yuuji glimpses the untouched cup in Gojo's hand. It glints in healthy yellow, just the perfect blend of pineapple and honey. The omega gently pries it from the man's hold and sips a taste of sweet warmth. 

"I don't know why I'm nervous, it's not like I'm the one proposing." He can't excuse his shuddering when he's aware of his cotton-stuffed costume. There's no ruse to be interpreted from a whale (or at least, that's what it intends to seem) garb. 

Gojo reveres the outfit anyway. The constant fondling of Yuuji's supposed tail (attached cleverly on his behind) indicated that very clearly much to his chagrin. 

"That's because you care a lot about them, darling." Gojo fiddles with the flippers fastened on Yuuji's hips. Again with his pampering and excessive endearments. "And I love that about you."

"I'm still mad at you for forcing me in this stupid whale suit." Yuuji slaps the hand toying with his tummy (where the head of the whale shines a glossy black).  

"Admit it, honey." Gojo's hands are persistently trailing up and down his spine. "You find it cute as much as I do. In fact, I think it traces your curves very well –"

"Stop talking!" Yuuji slaps a palm on his lips, accidentally suppressing his breathing. His alpha is forgiving. He obediently follows the excited jab of Yuuji's thumb and waits for him to continue. "Look! They're finally speaking with each other!"

There is a sceptical hmm as Gojo investigates the assumption. Sukuna and Megumi are conveniently placed near the rooftop's rusting balustrade. There are lanterns separating their tables from the others. From afar, they portray the perfect image of normal couples coerced into a bizarre convention. Being the only two clad in ordinary clothing, one can readily believe them to be misplaced.

"Doesn't feel like a friendly conversation." The alpha notes just as Megumi hisses the word jerkass to Sukuna, the latter's smirk stretching into a dangerous tilt.

Yuuji winces, agreeing. He grabs Gojo's hand and moves closer with stealth. They hide behind the cover of a mislaid pillar, savouring the coldness of layered bricks and sequenced moss. 

"Let's just call it aggressive flirting."

Gojo chuckles in approval. "I'm still in awe of your persuasion skills. I have to be honest, I had great doubts Sukuna would agree to this considering it's partly my idea."

"It's not that hard, really. All I had to do was threaten to name the kids after you." Pair that with his youngest-brother-privileges and you've got yourself a silver-tongued businessman about to seal a trailblazing deal.

"Even when I'm not around, I'm significant to people." The alpha commends himself, ever the narcissist. 

Yuuji ignores his brag, dedicated to his snooping. He hears offended muttering and amused snickering. He discerns only bits and pieces of what is being said – grouchily, bitterly, cheekily and...lovingly? 

His misgivings waver. He peeks at the two and sees their rigid figures. They're awkward, but their aloof guards are slackening. Megumi's frowns are less pronounced, his animosity not as dour. Sukuna's provocations tread in shallow waters, considerate of his words. The more Yuuji listens to his brother's sardonic ribbing and his friend's disgruntled feedbacks, the less he doubts the possibilities. They're connecting. In their own cranky, standoffish Megumi-Sukuna way. 

"What do you know," Gojo towers over him and whistles lowly. "Looks like the proposal is going to run smoothly after all."

Yuuji retreats to the dim recesses. He backs away and urges Gojo to copy him. "I still think it's a little too fast for them. They're being civil with each other, what if the proposal jars Megumi and overwhelms him again –"

A sharp swish. Zooming crackles. And then –

"Whoa! Fireworks!"

Yuuji feels more than sees the colours erupt and paint the sky. The flares splatter all around. The calm drafts carry the twinkle of every howl – every modest cheer, euphoric cackle and even the speechless gawking.

Gojo stares at the skyline, his profile splashed with the rays of splitting reds, pinks, golds and blues. He's sublime. The curve of his open smile. The crinkle of his levity. The flickers of deep cerulean shading his eyes. His melodic laughter, standing out and beaming more brilliantly than the sparks around him. 

For a split second, all Yuuji sees is him. His dumb bandana. His silly eyepatch. The moonlit arch of his brows. That cute slope defining his nose more distinctly. The moles he traces when Gojo is asleep and Yuuji is wide awake absorbing the magic of his existence.

He has faced Gojo a million times before. He's long memorized the features of his beauty and delighted in the intensity of his affection. But this, hidden from the fuzz of the throng, he finally understands him. Yuuji now grasps the entirety of him –

Love.

"You're missing it."

Cherry blossom meets ocean snow.

Yuuji blinks, lips parted. "What?"

Large palms gently cup his shoulders. They turn him around to the view of Sukuna kneeling down and presenting a ring.  

The cacophony reverberates. Everyone shrieks in pleased amazement.

"Marry me?"

Megumi sucks in a breath. Seconds tick by and land on the sixth. Say it, say it, say it, say it – 

"Yes."

"By the way, was the fireworks part of the plan?"

"Nope. That was just for you."

Chapter Text

Tuesday. Three months before the wedding.

"Blue."

"Trite. Akira?"

"Overused. Red?"

"Uninspired. Keiko?"

"You naming a kid or thinking about your grandma?

"Screw you, it's a pretty name. Better than your bland ideas. Can't you think of any other colour besides primary?"

Yuuta grumbles his annoyance. He harshly flings the folder to his table, only to wince in regret when he remembers its creaking bad leg. "Not my fault they put me in charge of the motif. Shouldn't you be the one handling this?"

"You mean Megumi should," Nobara huffs. Her duties hinge on the scatter of florid photographs. "I've got too much on my plate already. All the favourite bands are booked and the flowers are yet to be decided on. I'm starting to think we shouldn't have let Megumi go to that stupid date of his." 

Yuuji reviews the last batch of invitations, undeterred by their grousing. "You can make things easier for yourselves if you don't bother with the names."

"Not a chance." Yuuta is quick to oppose. "You promised you'll take our suggestions into consideration. If I don't get to name at least one of your kids, then what kind of a godfather would I be?"

"Who said they're making you the godfather?" Nobara jeers. 

Yuuta makes a face, sticky notes slipping off his lap. "My application is first in line."

"Don't count on it, assface." Maki interrupts, committed to glueing glitters on envelopes. The chore assigned to her is unfairly easier than the others (excluding Yuuji's hardly pivotal role, of course). "You've got big brothers to look out for."

"Please," Yuuta waves his hand around, dismissive. He's in denial and it's laughably visible to anyone aware. "One of them is a sex-fiend with a mate who could pass off as cinderella's wicked stepmother. And the other is a prickly gangster too unfit for babysitting. Choosing from either of them will be a dire mistake."

"I think you might be forgetting the best contenders." Maki reminds in a sly attempt to rattle the other. "Megumi is an excellent candidate. Fastidious but reliable. Toge's got firsthand experience in looking after kids from his daycare job. Lenient but competent. Compared to your substandard child-rearing skills, it's near improbable for them to fail. Not to forget that you can barely function as a human being without Toge's supervision."

"Megumi's a recluse who'd sooner dump the baby duties to someone else than walk them outside. And Toge," Yuuta caresses his mate, the omega thoroughly immersed in his tasks to spare him a glance. "as much as I love you, I don't think your cooking is child-friendly. So that leaves Yuuji with one, reasonable, perfect choice."

And to think his options are only limited to five people. Yuuji should have accounted for the drawbacks when he still had the time to expand his social network.

"Huh," The omega snaps out of his idle participation, blinking slowly. With little contemplation, he utters his epiphany, "I really need new friends. Gojo did mention Nanami being a dependable alpha. Maybe I can ask him the next time we meet."

Yuuji must clarify, that despite his charm and thoughtfulness, Getou is, frankly, a danger to himself and to others. Violence as one's foremost guidance to fixing dilemmas equates to a lamentable rejection.

Nobara and Maki snicker. Yuuta outright cries in disagreement.

"You're willing to choose someone you just knew for three months over a friend you've known for 5 years?! Me? Five Years!"

Yuuji masks his amusement, his body unstirred despite the light disturbance of Yuuta's shaking. "Relax, would you? You have two kids to appeal to. If you manage to impress me with your name proposals, then maybe you can improve your chances of winning."

"Lucky for us, the babies only need two godmothers." Nobara's words fade into a gurgle when she nears Yuuji's side. She presses her cheeks against the bump, fondling its plumpness and crooning in merry tunes. "They're going to grow up pretty with our help."

The omega abandons any mention of Ieiri's submitted appeal. Better to alleviate tensions not yet stirred.

"Speaking of help, you might want to assist Toge-san with the menu." Yuuji pointedly stares at the stack of portfolios gathered around the older omega.

"I'd rather not." Nobara persists on hugging him. Her ear rests above his navel, revelling in the vibrations of Yuuji's tummy. "Toge-san is fine on his own. Look how absorbed he is right now. He's in his work bubble, he won't appreciate unwanted intrusions."

The omega did have the tendency to throw a fit when his workspace is congested. So perhaps it's wise to do away with the interference (even if it's well-intentioned). 

Yuuji indulges in the respite. His back lands softly on an assortment of pillows and plushies dispersed on the fluffy carpet. Nobara follows the recline of his weight and very gently strokes his belly. They're bigger now, their babies. Little miracles with fingernails and hearts, sleeping peacefully in his womb.

Fingers thread through auburn locks. Papers flutter quietly between the skipping silence. The calm of the drafts. The peek of a beaming afternoon. Yuuji smells the faint scent of glue, hears the whir of the fan and the scratch of scribbling pens. Yuuta is back to mumbling his gripes. Toge is too devoted to his chore to solace his tight frown. And Maki is almost to her last bundle of lurid cards.

"This is nice," Yuuji whispers to the sleepy hush. A collective hum agrees to his thought.

Tranquillity. And then –

"Oh!" Nobara and Yuuji gasp, having felt the intensity of the jolt.

Toge is first to look up in concern. "What's wrong? Did something happen to Yuuji?"

Maki is a close second, already fishing out her phone. "Should I call an ambulance?"

"No, no, no," Yuuji assures kindly. He uses his elbow and Nobara's eager support to sit straighter. Another jerk, and Nobara squeals gleefully. "It's the babies, they're kicking!"

Swift like the dash of sun rays but coltish with their gait, they scramble to lay a touch on Yuuji's stomach. 

The babies twitch at their noisy presence. There is a stronger shock in their response. Yuuji guesses one is displeased and the other is enlivened. 

"They're energetic!" Yuuta laughs heartily. His palm is the largest of the group and so he feels more. The kicks turn to him. It was as if they gravitated towards the heat of his hold. "I bet you, they'd be running a mile before they're five." 

 "I should send a video to Megumi. He's gonna be so pissed he missed this moment." Maki turns on the camera. Toge and Nobara instinctively put on their cutest expressions. Yuuta is heavily engrossed to compete with them. 

"You're not worried about Gojo-san?"  Toge turns to Yuuji. The lone angel of the bunch with generous sensitivity in him. "He might cry a bucket if he learns about this."

"He's been there for the first seven." Yuuji shrugs. "It's going to bore him out soon enough."

Toge smiles, not quite believing his prediction. "They're his as much as they're yours. I doubt he'll ever get tired of that fact."

Yuuji searches for a lie in Toge's eyes and collects nothing but unabating confidence.

"Yeah," He feels as the kick subside, retreating to their mindless slumber. "I guess he never will."

Sunday. Two months before the wedding.

"Long overalls."

Yuuji folds his arms, horrified. "Absolutely not. I'm going to look ridiculous."

Gojo lowers the hanger and bares him an affronted scowl, more for Yuuji's sake than his. "Don't be absurd. You look good in anything. You're beautiful, Yuuji."

Yuuji checks the garment behind the one he's presented. It's smaller, cuter. He will admit that Gojo's fashion sense is immaculate. Just not when it comes to him. "We take the kid's version and pair it with the brown shoes."

"Okay," Gojo nods, grinning like a businessman about to bargain. "But what if we also take the mommy's version?"

He's thrown a glare, unimpressed. "If you insist on keeping that then I dare you to also find a daddy's version."

Gojo's smile only radiates. Probably not the most menacing intimidation to make, Yuuji realises. "We can wear it for your maternity photoshoots!"

"I thought we agreed not to do that?" 

The alpha cheerily ignores him.

"And then we can dress you in flowery veils, set up the scene somewhere around the meadows with natural lighting and comfortable breeze. It'd be so romantic, honey." Gojo ransacks an array of costly raiments. All in pastel colours and cutesy, complex shapes. He finds an outfit worth a praise and adds it to their basket brimful of immoderation and exorbitant figures.

"You're really going to push through with this, aren't you?"

Gojo plants a chaste kiss on the creases of his sulking forehead. His cajoling actively dispels Yuuji's discontent. "Trust me on this one, peaches. It's going to turn out wonderful."

Yuuji grumbles with no real spite. Searching at a lazy pace, he comes across a plain turnout. It's another overall, but it's shorter, less ostentatious and just the right shade of salmon. Beside it is a smaller version complete with its own pair of strawberry-themed socks.

"Cute." Gojo leans his chin on the omega's head, inspecting the item. After a second's consideration, he takes both clothes from the rack and expertly tosses them to the heap. "Should we buy more toys?"

Yuuji sighs. It's endearing how the alpha continues to ask for permission when the both of them know very well he wouldn't budge to Yuuji's refusal. 

The omega chooses to link their fingers together, yielding to Gojo's whims.

"Just no more whales. Or pirates."

Gojo brushes his thumb against his knuckles. His impish eyes beam at Yuuji, mirth unabated. "No promises."

An hour of moseying through every lane and three carts teeming with ludicrous playthings later– Yuuji finally convinces Gojo to cease his precipitous spending. The trunk of their car is stocked with boxes and bags that even the most obliging shopper judges the rationality behind their compulsive buying. If one were to dare ask, Yuuji, in all honesty, wouldn't know what kind of response to provide but a resigned nod. 

"The capitalists are overjoyed." 

A cheeky pinch squeezes his nose. Gojo walks around, unpacking boxes and arranging them in a sloppy display. Yuuji lounges on his chair, buried in one of Gojo's many blankets.

"The babies will love it, I'm telling you."

Cribs painted in clashes of pink and clothes that scream pampered royalties – Yuuji is not quite sure about that one. 

"Hey," A sneaky pinch, this time on his cheek. Gojo plops down next to Yuuji and Yuuji automatically seeks warmth from the embrace of his open hand. "You're doubting me again, aren't you? Me? Your debonair, graciously sophisticated alpha? The audacity!"

"Oh, shut up." Yuuji lightly slaps the older's rib with the back of his hand. "Your friends had a lot to say about your sense of style and design. And to think I used to envy your (supposed) fashionable tastes."

Gojo's palm clasps around his shoulder. A jest and a chide combined into another one of his unique gestures of endearment. "You like it, don't lie."

"Maybe I do." Yuuji reaches for the remote control, not bothering with the dishonesty. When it comes to Gojo, there is not much to fabricate. The omega has always been a terrible deceiver.

Laugh tracks play, resounding. Every nook of Gojo's towering ceiling dims at the arrival of dusk. The panorama of the citylife peering through his filmy drapes are strewn in blinking yellows and fading overcast. Some mawkish dialogue flatters the characters on screen, wooing each other and the cheering audience hidden behind cameras. It's not that wholesome when the plot has badly misconstrued the themes of previous seasons. But the support of live watchers is unflagging anyway. Maybe they were paid, maybe the cue cards are laden with menace or, maybe the producers have them held at gunpoint.

Yuuji is not really that intrigued, but the scripted cacophonies are better than the echoes of static and early evening drizzle.

"You still awake?"

Yuuji cuddles the alpha's chest, recording the cadenced beating of his heart. He blinks away bleary lines and toys with the hem of Gojo's shirt. "Barely."

"Open this for me?"

A blotch of amber invades his vision. The murk clears as Yuuji tears the wrapper and tugs at the glittery ribbon. 

"What's this?" He's presented yet a cushioned gift. Covered in exquisite silk and lush texture. "A key?"

Gojo motions his palm up and down Yuuji's elbows. A rare show of his pensive nature. He maintains his gaze on the scene blaring at them. But his focus is directed wholly at Yuuji.

"I bought a house." He says, more like a whisper. "It's a 30-minute walk to your apartment and a 10-minute drive to your brothers'." The alpha mutters the latter part with a strained expression. "The neighbourhood is kind. It's also near our university and has a well-kept park safe for the kids to venture when they're older."

Yuuji quells his fidgeting. His mind whirs to higher cognizance, anticipating. "Yeah?"

"Nanami checked the place's background for me so trust is guaranteed."

"And?" 

Finally, Gojo returns his stare. "And, it would be a dream come true if you move in with me."

Upfront. No delays in between. Surer than the constants. It's them. It's love.

Yuuji pushes himself to meet Gojo's lips. Brief kisses turn to three then to four, then to ten seconds of chasing each other's taste.

"I love you." It comes breathy. But Gojo hears it loud and clear.

"I love you too."

A beat of silence. Smiles near-permanent in their faces.

"By the way, that means yes right?"

Yuuji chortles at his eagerness and pats his jaw. "Yes, Gojo-san. That means yes."

Saturday. One week before the wedding.

Clean white, sleek sable accents and slimmed to the waist. Cuffs stiff and perfectly trimmed. Collars straighter than the flatness of an ironed vest. 

"You think this is passable?"

"Passable?" Yuuji levels his tone, mouth agape. "Megumi, this is better than good! You look like the paragon of what all grooms should be! At this point, I'm beginning to question why you're even with my brother."

"It's for the money." Megumi jokes, wry. "So it fits me?"

It's never odd for Megumi to doubt. It's a disposition inherent to his character that Yuuji, to this day, applauds Sukuna for managing well (excluding the times of unwonted failures). The omega may not be as equipped, and he may be far from a master at handling insecurities – but he has compassion to offer, an attribute he thinks is just as imperative to instilling ease.

"Hey," Yuuji's bump is an oppressive burden on his body, but he's practised trudging with the added weight on him. He takes the taller's hands and traces around the nervous branches. "You look gorgeous. You walk down that aisle and you'll be the most sublime sight to everyone in the room."

"You're starting to sound like your cheesy alpha. It's creeping me out." Megumi excuses the redness of his complexion as the trick of the shadows. But Yuuji is more than acquainted with his reactions to call out the trickery. 

"And you're panicking again, aren't you?"

Megumi slouches. The polished elegance and elan away within seconds. The beta turns to the mirror, analytic eyes pinpointing every flaw in the sparse rumples of his attire. "It's just one of those days. You know, when you're nearing a life-changing moment and dreading how badly it will turn out."

"Lucky for you, it won't." Yuuji flattens the creases for him. He keeps their hand connected, gazing into the reflection of Megumi's eyes. "Things are going to be fine, Megumi. You'll be dressed in the fanciest garb. The people will take a gander at you and then brazenly gawp for the rest of the ceremony. Sukuna will have his mouth opened the whole time like the smitten fool that he is. And then you'll exchange your vows. You will tell him you're going to take care of him for the rest of your lives together. And he'll tell you he will treasure you as much as he's treasured his wine cellar."

Megumi chuckles weakly. His grip relaxes. "You think it really going to be forever?"

"It's going to be forever because you'll both make it work." Yuuji lolls his head toward the beta's shoulder. His arms slither around Megumi's, unapologetic with his affection. "And if it doesn't, Gojo has some handsome alpha friends willing to buy you coffee."

Megumi snorts, retrieving his unparalleled flair. "Thanks. But I'm content with the one I have."

Yuuji laughs heartily, mind tingling with pure happiness. "Sukuna is lucky to have you."

Sunday. The night before the wedding.

The occasion is a lively homage to the booming scene of 1950's ballroom frolic. Drinks are a sparkling sophistication. Foods are served in plates of fine porcelain. Much of the carousing. Much of heels tapping. Soles fuelled by the beat of what Yuuji can only describe as a modernistic clash to the otherwise early domination of pop, swing and blues. Chatters centre on debates not quite on par with the posh discussions of old folks deep in their criticisms of 50's economy. 

It's a lovely evening, overall.

Except for Yuuji and his out of place garb. Suits, apparently, do not come in different sizes unless the seamster is a highly paid owner of an antique shop open to the idea of catering to pregnant males. Unfortunately, Yuuji isn't one for fineries or antique shops. Yuuji is one for billowy sleeves and stretchable trousers.

No trouble. His simplicity isn't a tragedy. Not when Gojo has insisted he be adorned in lavish jewellery. Yuuji ought to restrict the alpha's splurging before he bankrupts himself (far-fetched, but still thinkable).

"May I have this dance?" 

Yuuji gawks as fingers unfurl for a lure to the open floor. His eyes travel up, romanced by an attractive grin. 

"I'm 9 months pregnant, about to burst and not up for anything but a fast trip to the hospital so I can empty my uterus."

"That's one innovative phrasing to capture the excitement of parenthood." Gojo drops his offered hand and crouches in front of the omega. He loosens the tie of Yuuji's laces, freeing the Yuuji's toes from the stress of the vamp. "Come on, just one dance? They're playing my favourite song."

Yuuji has to squint to keep himself safe from the twinkling of Gojo's eyes. He pokes the man's forehead, finding him guileful. "Your favourite song is a record of you singing in a talent show that Getou-san forced you to partake in."

"People change, sweetheart." Gojo persuades, ironically obdurate. He stands tall and waits for Yuuji's surrender. "Now, shall we?"

The song changes. It begins with a sedate droning. Without even a minute of dogged denial, Yuuji is led to the gathering of courting couples.

Gojo assists his steps. A faithful presence holding Yuuji still despite the burden of his idleness. They move slower than others. Swaying to their own rhythm unheard by everyone but them.

"I can never say no to you, can I?"

"I'm glad you find me irresistible."

The alpha nuzzles his fringes, keeping his hold devoted to guiding Yuuji. He limits his strides to the same distance as what Yuuji's legs can bear. Dearly, he makes Yuuji aware of his tenderness. To and fro. In short, counted swerves.

Yuuji lets the lyrics drawl into tuneful hums before he speaks, eyes closed to luxuriate in the unremitting intimacy he is showered with.

"When I was a child I used to wonder what it would feel like to have our parents around."

Gojo hums, encouraging, caressing his back in circular patterns. Yuuji is given the strength to withstand a twirl. 

"I worried. Everyday. That the same lonely memory would happen to my own kids. A part of me doubted it would be different. That it could be better. That somehow I wouldn't fuck things up and hurt the very people I want to care for."

A kiss on his temple, listening. Love enduring.

"But being with you – having you, makes me feel like I don't have to worry for the rest of my life. You make me feel like this will be everlasting."

"And it will, Yuuji." Gojo tips his chin upward with the doting nudge of his thumb. "For us. For them. We'll have each other every step of the way."

Yuuji smiles with unbridled gratefulness. He thanks the heavens. Fate or coincidence. It doesn't matter. He thanks his friends for relentlessly coaxing him into a party. He thanks the drink he'd boldly imbibed out of elation. Hell, he even thanks the forgettable alpha who flirted with him. 

Whoever or whatever. Yuuji is pleased, regardless.

Whether it's the outcome of the universe expanding or the consequence of a butterfly's flutter, he's thankful for the new colours illuminating his world.

For the past lives he hasn't remembered. And the next lives he will have.

He will always be thankful for the existence of one Gojo Satoru.

Monday. The wedding.

Fushiguro Megumi walks down the aisle about to be led to his new life as Itadori Megumi.

His father is unsparing with his displeasure but escorts him like the dutiful alpha that he rarely is. Next to the beta's left is his sister. Jubilant, unashamed of her rapturous approval, and the very opposite of their patriarch. They extend their support to each of Megumi's hands. A family of three dressed in their most bewitching brilliance.

Yuuji steals a peek at his brother. The alpha is entranced. The most festive Yuuji has ever seen him. Free. Spirited. Unafraid of the nosy spectators of his wide smile.

No one can blame him. No one can make fun of him either.

Everyone has been wholeheartedly hoping for this moment to arrive. And everyone wishes the best for both of them.

"Friends, family." The priest is a doddering old man clad in a crisp white cloak. His greeting is sonorous, diligent with his intonation. "We are gathered here today to witness and celebrate the union of two fortunate souls. In the years that they have been together..."

The rest goes on as planned. Things are perfectly proceeding as dictated in the arrangement of things.

Yuuji shifts in his seat, feeling an abrupt sense of discomfort.

"You feeling okay?" Gojo notes his jittery jerks. 

"Sukuna and Megumi's love has matured into one of undying devotion..."

Yuuji twitches again, sensing the rush of panic in his nerves. "I-I'm not sure."

"Commitment. Persistence. And patience. These are the indispensable necessities of a long-lasting marriage."

Gojo furrows his brows. "Do you need to lie down?"

Yuuji wiggles more clumsily, his breathing gradually speeding up. "I don't know. M-my stomach, it's hurting. Satoru, I might be –"

"If there is anyone present in this room, who feel that these two persons should not be joined in matrimony," 

A splatter. Yuuji inhales noisily as water dribbles down his legs. No, no, no, no – the due date was supposed to be for another week!

"Speak now or forever hold your peace."

"Shit."

Gojo follows the course of the cascade and blinks three times. "Please tell me that was just your pee."

The girl designated behind them gasps out of surprise. Her interruption successfully directs the audience's curiosity to their area.

"I don't think it's pee."

A momentary stillness. Yuuji downright claws Gojo's wrists and bellows a guttural shriek.

Mist fills his vision. The alarmed din of his surrounding fades into a muted static. Yuuji jolts from the attack of greater pain, biting on Gojo's shoulder to drown his scream.

"Yuuji! Are you okay?" 

He feels as familiar fingers cradle his cheeks. It's Sukuna, fussing over him in uncontained dismay. Yuuji could make out the nervousness of the place. He discerns Naoya's voice from the crowd, instructing Chousou to get the car running while advising Yuuta to ring the hospital. Ieiri's commands can be heard from the background too, coercing the onlookers to remain seated and preventing anyone from meddling.

For a brief, uninterrupted instance, Yuuji catches sight of Megumi's anxious expression. He shakes his head, mustering enough energy to sermon the couple.

"You both stay here and finish your vows, okay?" The omega utters shakily.

Sukuna grunts, uncooperative. "I'm not about to let my little brother deliver his kids without me–"

Yuuji bites back a whimper. "Not happening. I will not allow any disruptions to ruin my brother and best friend's moment. Not even my kids. So Father, please get on with it."

The priest nears their small circle and clears his throat, clearly shaken. "Son, I suggest we delay the ceremony to better address your –guh!"

Yuuji pulls on the priest's collar, growling. "Listen here, you son of a bitch. You're going to get back to that podium and marry these two idiots as if it's the end of the world and this is what God has assigned for you to do to save humanity. You understand?!"

"N-now, now, Yuuji. No need to get violent." Gojo nervously pries his hands away from the old man's cloak. He apologizes to the priest before facing Sukuna and Megumi, his voice suddenly unperturbed. "We'll take him to the hospital. You can come after the vows, deal?"

"You can come only after the reception!" Yuuji corrects. He's picked up from his slouch, back and legs supported by Gojo's sturdy arms. "Father, I'm not hearing any holy words from your mouth!"

"Yuuji –" 

"Let's resume the wedding." The distraught priest begs Megumi, concealing the break of his volume with forced enthusiasm.

With a trembling nod, Yuuji pushes Megumi to the stage. He wordlessly urges Sukuna to do the same. 

"Go, the both of you. I'll be okay. I promise."

Sukuna huffs then concedes. He stares at Gojo and sternly requests, "You better take care of him."

Gojo, not once staggering, positions Yuuji closer to himself. "I will."

The priest taps on his mic and announces a terse apology. Megumi and Sukuna return to their spots, tightening their grips on one another. Their eyes dart occasionally towards Yuuji, distracted.

"Do you, Megumi, take Sukuna to be your–"

A sting assails Yuuji, stabbing his ribs. "Jesus motherfucking christ! Fucking–"

"Y-your lawfully wedded husband, promising to love and cherish–"

"Holy shit! Fuck Mary in the ass! Son of a motherfucking bit–"

Gojo paces to the exit faster. He gets to the door and slams it shut before the church could piss on Yuuji's profanities and subject him to eternal damnation.

Labour. One tumultuous car ride later.

"You are a demon."

Yuuji throws whatever he could get on his hands. His primary target: a skittish, slippery curse worst than Satan's devilry.

"The bane of my existence."

The omega fails to shoot a stethoscope Satoru's way. He bets his next attack on a nurse's cap.

"When I'm done delivering these shitheads I will come for your dick and skin it."

Satoru yelps, dodging the strike of a clipboard. He cowers behind a timid intern. "O-okay! That's enough, honey. Just keep pushing."

Yuuji barks at him, perhaps more vicious with his lunge had he not been tied to the bed. "I will fucking kill you!"

"Is no one going to save him?" Yuuta meekly poses his concern to one of the staff. 

The nurse shrugs, transferring a tray of bloody equipment. "It's a normal occurrence. Letting the omegas vent as much as they want helps ease the birthing process."

"He broke Chousou's hand when the man was just trying to help."

"That's what the extra staff is here for."

Yuuji perks up. "You hear that, Satoru? Why don't you come here and get your dick sliced off? There's plenty of doctors to sew it back for you."

"But Yuuji, wouldn't you want more babies after this?"

The omega is unable to reach for the sharp blades. He settles for a roaring speech about the pain he will inflict upon Satoru once released from the hellish burn of his own body splitting.

A forceful push. Yuuji drops his head on the ruffled pillows and sobs, "Please tell me you can see the head?"

The doctor shakes her head, sympathetic. "Not yet." 

Yuuji whines, hiccuping. Satoru is by his side within seconds, no longer frightful.

"Hey," He shushes, wiping the sweat off his forehead. "You're doing great. Just a little bit more."

Yuuji accepts his comfort, his wails waning in compliance. He relies on the courage he's shown. Stay calm. Breathe slowly. Believe in yourself.

"Push!"

Yuuji obliges, yelling in swears and vows of murder. Satoru never loosens his grasp on him.

For us. For them. We'll have each other every step of the way.

"Push!"

The babies are no larger than the length of his elbows. They're light and pink and mewling.

When Yuuji holds them, he feels their heartbeats sync with his. They call for him, searching with their pudgy little hands and writhing legs.

Satoru hovers his finger over their closed eyes and they both hold on to it at the same time. For a moment, their faint blubbers halt, enthralled.

Yuuji looks at them and weeps.

They're worth every second of agony.

11 hours after labour.

Yuuji is greeted by the dim when he rises from his long-winded rest. He finds his brothers and friends still deep in theirs. Limbs piled atop limbs, laps full of napping heads and slumped frames decorated with shared blankets.

The snores are a valued buzz, competing against the tireless life of the outside and providing Yuuji with an ample amount of silliness. 

"How are you feeling?" 

Satoru whispers from his chair posted near Yuuji's bed. Hand latches on to hand, protected from the whistling breeze. 

Yuuji croakily answers him, "I'm fine. I had a good sleep."

He's displayed a relieved grin. "You were so brave. The doctor said the babies came out healthy. Not a single complication."

"Damn right, I was." Yuuji sighs. His body has adjusted to exhaustion but its mobility is stinted. "I'm cold. Cuddle me."

Satoru chuckles as he inches his way into the bed. He gingerly slips his arm underneath Yuuji's back, transferring heat through touch alone. 

"You deserve to be spoiled."

Yuuji buries himself in the cosiness of his embrace. He smells mint, fresh spring and home. Their home.

"And listened to." The omega adds. "You have to promise from now on not to buy more than necessary. Take the trash out every morning. Keep the sink dry when it's your time to wash the dishes. And feed the babies when they're having one of their testy moods."

"Anything else you want to add?" Satoru plays with his fingers, comparing lithe to thick and drawing along the ridges. 

"Don't give the kids candies even when they beg sweetly. Read their bedtime stories with me and do all the voice-overs. If you can't come home early, make sure to tell me so I can pack you a lunchbox ahead of time. Do not call me while you're driving. Make sure to watch movies with me when you can and, and..." 

Cold. Something slips on his finger. Yuuji scans for metal and is met with the glint of a diamond. The band is golden, gleaming with specks of ivory and sapphire. 

There is a reserved quiet before Yuuji regains his breathing.

"Is this Nanami-approved too?"

Satoru laughs through his nose, tousling his locks. "I picked that out myself. Figured you'd prefer a simple design."

"So no flash mob?"

Lips peck on the arch of his brows, overflowing with care. "Maybe a repeat just for show."

Yuuji uses his recovering spirit to kiss the alpha on the lips. Unrushed but clingy. Passion pervading. Exuberance unhinged.

"I want a dancing cat next time."

Satoru adds to their collection of kisses. "I'll make sure to have a group of them dancing to your favourite song."

"The tempo is fast."

"I'll find them a stellar trainer."

"Pet advocates will come after you."

"I'll blame it on Sukuna."

Yuuji rubs his finger, readily adapting to the company of a glowing ring. A house. Two pets. Three kids prancing on a backyard of blooming marvels. What it would be like to have everything and trust they'll grow into more – Yuuji doesn't have to wonder.

This, he doesn't doubt, is love and beyond. This, to be with Satoru, is infinity.

"It's a yes by the way."

Satoru cackles, loud with blithe fervour. 

"I know."

end.

or not.

we'll see.