Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The world had never been kind to subs.

From the moment a person graduated from school, they were assigned a classification—Dom, Sub, or, in rare cases, a Switch.

For most, it determined the course of their lives.

Doms were given leadership positions, entrusted with power, and taught that their instincts would always guide them to do what was best. Subs, on the other hand, were expected to be obedient, to follow orders, to submit.

It wasn’t law, exactly—at least, not anymore.

In more modern parts of society, the divide was fading, and younger generations pushed for equality, questioning a system that had existed for centuries.

But tradition was slow to die, and in many places, the old ways still reigned.

It was why most subs took suppressants.

The small, unassuming pills dulled a sub’s scent, masking them from the world and making it harder for doms to tell what they were.

More importantly, suppressants made them immune to Commands.

Commands were a dom’s natural ability to control a sub’s actions through the use of direct orders.

A simple word, spoken with enough intent, could force a sub to comply against their will.

It was instinctual, ingrained in doms as naturally as breathing.

Some barely used it, while others wielded it like a weapon.

A sub on suppressants could resist—but without them, disobedience wasn’t an option.

Megumi, like anyone else, had hoped and prayed that he'd get a dom assignment. 

He'd hoped that he could be one of those lucky sorcerers who were not only powerful, but also at the top of the social hierarchy. 

Someone like Gojo.

But Megumi should've known better, because he was almost never lucky enough to get what he wanted.

*

Their first mission as full-fledged sorcerers wasn’t what Megumi had expected.

When he imagined graduation from Jujutsu High, he had thought about the weight of responsibility, the pressure of living up to his potential.

He had pictured himself, Yuji, and Nobara stepping into the world as equals, proving that their generation would change things.

Instead, they were here.

Undercover at a couples retreat for traditionalist doms and subs.

Megumi sat in the passenger seat of the car, watching the forest pass by through the window.

The retreat was nestled deep in the woods, far from any city, surrounded by nothing but trees and the occasional glimmer of the lake peeking through the gaps in the foliage.

It required driving to a small train station, and then taking that train to the campground where cabins and even more trees awaited them. 

Gojo was driving, one hand on the wheel, the other draped lazily over the console between them. He looked as relaxed as ever, sunglasses perched on his nose, humming some obnoxious song under his breath.

“This is your last chance to back out, you know,” Gojo said, flicking a glance in Megumi’s direction. “I could tell the higher-ups you got sick. Food poisoning, maybe.”

Megumi snorted. “You think that’s going to work on Ijichi?”

Gojo grinned. “Okay, fair. But you can’t blame me for trying.”

Megumi didn’t respond, his gaze drifting back to the road. He wasn’t backing out of his first real mission. 

There had been reports—rumors that something wasn’t right at this retreat. People came back different, their personalities altered, their relationships suddenly changed forever.

Cursed energy had been detected in the area, but no one had been able to pinpoint the source. Their job was to blend in, observe, and figure out what was happening.

Unfortunately, that meant pretending to be part of the system they hated.

For the next week, they would have to obey all the traditional standards. The subs would wear the collars and ditch their suppressants, follow the schedules, and immerse themselves in the retreat’s culture—all while keeping their cover intact.

Megumi clenched his hands into fists in his lap.

It would be fine. Since yesterday's graduation party, he'd basically just accepted his fate as a sub. Nothing he could do about it now.

One week without suppressants wouldn’t change anything.

…Right?

His gaze flickered toward Gojo.

It was stupid. He knew it was stupid.

But since his assignment, something about Gojo—his confidence, his strength, his presence—was starting to feel different.

Not as his ex-teacher. Not as an annoyance.

Something else.

He turned back to the window, willing the thought away.

It didn’t matter.

All that mattered was the mission.

*

The rhythmic clatter of the train on the tracks filled the silence as the group traveled toward their mission.

The setting sun cast warm orange light through the windows, illuminating the four of them in a cozy, golden glow.

Yuji was fast asleep, his head resting heavily on Megumi’s shoulder, breathing deep and even.

Megumi had given up trying to shove him off an hour ago—it was useless. Yuji slept like a rock, and every time Megumi tried to nudge him upright, he only mumbled something incoherent and snuggled closer.

Megumi let out a quiet sigh, staring absently out the window.

Behind them, however, peace was a foreign concept.

“I refuse,” Nobara hissed, voice low but filled with absolute conviction. "Just because you think you know him better doesn't mean he wants to be your fake sub."

Gojo, naturally, was unfazed. He chuckled, shifting comfortably in his seat. “Aw, Nobu... You sound jealous.”

Nobara scoffed. “Jealous? Of you? Please. I just don't trust you not to piss him off."

Gojo placed a hand over his heart, gasping in mock offense. “What? You wound me. I'd never--"

“Bullshit.”

“Okay, maybe sometimes,” Gojo admitted, flashing a smirk. “But it's usually not my fault."

“I swear—” Nobara started, but Megumi had had enough.

Carefully, he nudged Yuji upright—not that it did much. Yuji groaned in his sleep but barely stirred. 

Megumi pushed him to stand up. "Come on, big guy. Let me out."

Once Yuji was standing in the aisle, Megumi slid out of the seat to turn to Nobara with a sharp glare. "Can I talk to you? Alone?"

She blinked, momentarily surprised by his tone. Then, after exchanging a quick glance with Gojo, she shrugged. “Yeah, sure.”

Yuji immediately took her seat with a grin, and leaned on Gojo's shoulder before shutting his eyes once again.

Gojo threw an arm over his shoulders, leaning back in his chair to stare out the window.

The other pair moved to a couple of empty seats at the back of the train, away from prying ears. The hum of the train and the distant chatter of passengers filled the silence between them.

Nobara sat cross-legged, resting an elbow on her knee as she gave him a curious look.

“So… what’s up?”

Megumi exhaled, looking down at his hands. He was already regretting this, but it was better to get it over with. His face felt warm, and he hated that.

"I can't be Gojo's sub. I'm sorry if you wanted to be Yuji's partner, but I-- I need you to do me a solid, okay?"

"Okay." She responded too easily, before smirking. "But only if you'll tell me why."

"Well that's--"

"Is it because of his height? His clothes? His hair?" Nobara gasped. "Is he a pervert when I'm not around?"

"No." Megumi snapped. "Can you chill out? It's not a big deal."

"I'm not agreeing to this until you tell me."

Megumi rolled his eyes, but figured he should just come clean. “I think I'm falling for him,” he muttered.

Silence.

Then—

“Oh my god,” Nobara whispered, eyes wide with glee. “That’s adorable.”

Megumi groaned, burying his face in his hands. “It’s not. It’s a problem.”

“Why?” she asked, genuinely confused. “We’re all adults now. Who even cares?"

Megumi shook his head. “It’s not that simple. It’s Gojo.”

“…And?”

Megumi ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “And, I don’t want to be his sub for this mission. It’ll just… make things worse.”

Nobara leaned back, considering this. For all her teasing, she was his friend.

She knew how Megumi worked—how much he hated feeling vulnerable, how hard he worked to keep people at arm’s length.

And Gojo? Gojo didn’t do arm’s length.

After a moment, she nodded. “Okay. I’ll be your dom for the mission.”

Relief flooded Megumi so fast that his shoulders actually relaxed. “Thank you.”

Nobara smirked. “Don’t mention it. But you owe me for this.”

Before Megumi could ask what she meant by that, she was already striding back toward the others.

They returned to find Yuji still half-asleep, now drooling on Gojo’s sleeve.

Gojo, for his part, looked both amused and mildly inconvenienced. “Hey, Fushiguro, your human heater ditched you, and now I’m suffering for it.”

Before Megumi could respond, Nobara clapped her hands together.

“Alright, it's decided. Yuji, you’re my sub. Megumi’s with Gojo.”

Megumi froze.

Yuji, still groggy, lifted his head just enough to grin. “Oh, sweet!” He held up his hand for a high five, which Nobara returned without hesitation.

Meanwhile, Megumi just stared at her in utter betrayal.

“You—”

Nobara winked. “Have fun.”

Gojo’s smirk was slow, lazy, and infuriating.

Megumi gritted his teeth, already regretting everything.

Gojo simply stretched, looking out the train window as the scenery blurred past them.

He hadn’t said a word about Nobara’s sudden change of plans—but something about the way he smiled to himself made Megumi very aware that he had noticed.

And he wasn’t going to let Megumi forget it.

Nobara sat down in the seats in front of Gojo and Yuji, looking down at her nails.

Megumi quickly sat down beside her with a glare. "So, fuck you. First of all."

"You're welcome, sweetheart." Nobara grinned, before lowering her voice a little. "So how long have you known?"

"Oh, you think I'm going to sit here and gossip with you after you just stabbed me in the back?"

Nobara shrugged. "Yeah, maybe. Nothing else to do."

Megumi sighed loudly, and looked away from her. 

It was quiet between them for a few seconds, before Megumi finally grumbled, "Graduation."

*

The graduation party was in full swing, the air thick with laughter, music, and the scent of grilled food and alcohol.

The main hall of Jujutsu High had been transformed into a lively celebration, glowing lanterns strung up in every corner, casting a warm, flickering light over the scene.

Students, faculty, and alumni alike were gathered, toasting the accomplishments of the newly graduated sorcerers.

Yuji, Nobara, and Megumi were at the center of the festivities, the stars of the night.

Nobara, dressed in a sleek black dress, was soaking up the attention, a proud smirk on her face as she chatted animatedly with Maki and Panda.

Yuji, ever the social butterfly, was bouncing from group to group, accepting congratulations and cracking jokes in between bites of whatever food he could grab.

Megumi, however, had been noticeably quieter, lingering at the edge of conversations, nodding when appropriate but mostly keeping to himself.

He wanted to be excited that school was finally over, but he couldn't find it in himself.

Gojo Satoru wove through the crowd with ease, his usual playful energy making the rounds feel effortless.

He greeted old colleagues and teased the younger students, congratulating the graduates in his own exaggerated way. It wasn’t long before he spotted Yuji and Nobara by one of the snack tables, laughing over some inside joke.

“Yo!” Gojo greeted, sliding up beside them. “You guys should be so proud. How’s it feel to be officially assigned?”

Nobara practically beamed. “Like I was born for it. They told me I'm a dom, obviously,” she said, flipping her hair over her shoulder with a confident grin. "Just like you, Satoru."

"Are we on a first name basis now?" Gojo teased, before looking to Yuji. "How about you, Pinky?"

Yuji chuckled, rubbing the back of his head. “Well… they told me I’m a switch. But they want me to come back next year for retesting.”

Gojo raised an eyebrow. “A switch, huh? Interesting.” He ruffled Yuji’s hair before leaning back with a grin. “Congrats to both of you.”

Nobara playfully nudged Yuji. “I've been telling you for years that you're too confusing."

Gojo laughed, then glanced around. “Oh, hey… where’s Megs?”

Yuji tilted his head, thinking for a moment before a lopsided grin spread across his face. “Last I saw him, he was heading to the bathroom.”

Gojo gave a nod before excusing himself, weaving through the party once more.

The music thumped against the walls, and the energy in the room was electric, but Gojo had a bad feeling.

Something was off.

As he approached the bathroom, he slowed his steps, hearing the muffled sound of someone crying from inside one of the stalls.

Gojo sighed softly, already certain of who it was.

With careful steps, he knocked lightly on the stall door. “Hey, Meggie. You okay in there?”

The crying stopped abruptly, followed by a sharp, “Fuck off.”

Gojo smirked but didn’t budge. He leaned against the door, arms crossed. “Not gonna happen, you brat.”

Megumi didn't answer.

Gojo's voice was softer now, serious. “I’ll wait here all night if I have to.”

There was a pause before the lock clicked, and the stall door creaked open.

Megumi stood there, eyes red and puffy, his usual composed demeanor shattered.

He barely had time to react before Gojo slipped into the stall with him and shut the door behind him.

Without hesitation, Gojo pulled Megumi into a firm hug.

Megumi stiffened, struggling for a moment, hands pressing against Gojo’s chest, but the older man held on, unwavering.

Eventually, the fight left him, and he clutched fistfuls of Gojo’s shirt as he buried his face into his mentor’s shoulder.

Gojo let him cry, rubbing slow, soothing circles against Megumi’s back. “Talk to me, Megs.”

A deep, shuddering breath. "I--I can't." Then, barely above a whisper, Megumi said, “I can't be here right now."

Gojo nodded instantly. “Done. This party's lame anyway, let's get outta here."

Megumi tensed again. “You should stay. This is for you too. You helped all of us get here.”

Gojo sighed, tilting his head. “You really think a party matters more to me than you do?” He gave a small chuckle, ruffling Megumi’s hair gently. “You could have called me from the middle of a war zone, and I’d still drop everything to be there. You’re stuck with me.”

*

Gojo guided Megumi through the party with ease, keeping his head low as they made their way to the exit.

Just as they stepped outside, the cool night air hitting their skin, the doors burst open behind them.

Yuji and Nobara rushed forward, concern written all over their faces. “Gumi, are you okay?” Nobara asked, her brows furrowed.

Gojo took control immediately, pulling Megumi into his chest and shielding his face from view. “He had a little too much to drink,” Gojo said smoothly. “I’m walking him home.”

Nobara crossed her arms but sighed, relenting. “Text me if you need anything, okay?”

Yuji gave Gojo a small smile. “Take care of our little party animal.”

Gojo grinned. “You have my word.”

With that, Gojo turned them around and started walking away, his arm still wrapped protectively around Megumi’s shoulders.

Once they were far enough from the party, he glanced down at him. “Alright. Where’s your new place?”

Megumi hesitated before muttering an address.

Gojo nodded, adjusting his grip slightly to make sure Megumi stayed close as they headed off into the night.

When they finally arrived at Megumi’s apartment, they were met with scattered boxes, the small studio still mostly unpacked.

Despite the mess, Megumi let out a quiet sigh of relief, visibly relaxing.

Gojo glanced around and smirked. “Cozy. Need anything before I head out?”

Megumi hesitated before softly muttering, “Don’t leave.”

Gojo’s usual teasing remarks died on his lips. Instead, he nodded. “Alright. Want me to grab some food? You barely ate at the party.”

Megumi shook his head, waving him off. “Just… sit with me for a while.”

Without hesitation, Gojo flopped down onto the couch beside him.

He didn’t press for answers, didn’t demand Megumi talk—he simply stayed.

After a moment, Megumi hesitantly leaned against Gojo’s side, and Gojo, understanding without words, draped an arm around his shoulders.

Megumi didn't say a word, but was still suddenly met with some of Gojo's advice. "There's nothing wrong with being a sub, Meggie. Some of my favorite people in the world are subs."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Megumi muttered. 

Gojo smiled and took a deep breath before speaking again. "My best friend in the entire universe was a sub. And it didn't make him any less strong, y'know? He was powerful, and wonderful and... He thought it was fuckin' hilarious when people underestimated him just because he was a sub."

"Okay, whatever, can you shut up now? I've got a headache."

Thinking back... Megumi wished he would've listened. 

*

The group settled onto the couch of the cabin, the atmosphere heavy with unspoken tension.

Gojo sat on the coffee table in front of them, his knees bumping against Megumi’s.

Megumi felt his face heat up at the contact, but Gojo didn’t seem to notice.

Instead, his expression was uncharacteristically serious as he addressed them.

“Alright,” Gojo began, his voice softer than usual. “Based on what I gathered from the front office, this retreat is very heavily rooted in traditional dom/sub roles. That means Yuji and Megumi need to practice responding to Commands because it’ll be expected of you to listen without hesitation. We can’t risk blowing our cover.”

Megumi tensed at the idea, his fingers curling slightly against his thigh, but he nodded along with Yuji.

Nobara smirked at Gojo. "That's easy. Yuji is hella obedient. You're the one with a brat."

"Die." Megumi snapped at her, without even glancing in her direction.

Gojo sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “There’s another thing.” His lips pressed into a thin line before continuing. “I might need to sneak out and buy some collars.”

“Collars?” Yuji echoed, eyes widening slightly.

Gojo nodded, his expression grim. “The front desk mentioned that there are certain events where a collar is required for subs."

There was a beat of silence before Yuji suddenly raised his hand. “Can I get a pink one?”

Gojo blinked before breaking into a small, amused smile. “You can have anything you want.”

"Score." Yuji responded, maintaining his positive attitude.

Despite the levity of the moment, Gojo’s face soon hardened again.

He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly uneasy. “I don’t like treating you two this way. This whole structure, this view of our society—it’s not right. But I’m just trying to do what’s necessary for the mission.”

Yuji, ever the optimist, waved a hand dismissively. “It’s okay. We know it’s just for the mission. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

Gojo exhaled, clearly relieved, before his gaze drifted toward Megumi, who had been uncharacteristically quiet throughout the conversation.

He reached out and set a gentle hand on Megumi’s knee, his voice even softer than before. “Meggie, I’m sorry.”

Megumi stiffened at the touch, his heart pounding.

He shrugged quickly, trying to make it seem like it didn’t bother him. “It’s fine.” Then, in a flash, he pushed himself up from the couch. “Can we relax now? And stop talking about this?”

Gojo’s brows furrowed slightly, surprised at how fast Megumi had jumped up. But after a moment, he simply nodded. “Yeah, of course.”

*

The morning air was crisp, filled with the distant chirping of birds and the rustling of leaves swaying in the breeze.

The wooden walls of the cabin were thin, and Megumi’s sleep had been light, as always. But this time, it wasn’t the unfamiliar setting or the quiet tension of an undercover mission that woke him—it was the raised voices just outside his bedroom door.

Gojo was arguing with someone.

Megumi sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

His dark hair was messy, sticking up in all directions, but he didn’t care.

He listened for a moment, already knowing that Gojo could hold his own in a verbal spar, but something in the conversation made his stomach twist.

“It’s part of the experience,” a woman was insisting, her tone overly patient, as if explaining something obvious to a particularly stubborn child. “Subs should embrace who they are. Surrendering suppressants allows for a more authentic experience between couples. This retreat is about honesty and self-acceptance.”

“Oh, cut the crap,” Gojo snapped. His voice was sharp, but not playful the way it usually was. He was genuinely irritated. “If he wants to keep his suppressants, then he should keep them. You don’t get to dictate his choices.”

Megumi tensed. He should have expected this.

A camp like this, built around the idea of deepening connections between doms and subs, was bound to have some outdated, traditionalist views.

And even though Gojo was being, well, Gojo, he was technically right. No one should force him to give up his suppressants.

But it wasn’t worth the fight.

Megumi sighed and swung his legs out of bed, reaching for the duffel bag he’d stuffed under the wooden bed frame.

His fingers found the familiar small box inside, the label worn from weeks of being carried everywhere. He exhaled through his nose, pushed himself to his feet, and crossed the room.

Opening the door, he stepped out into the main area of the cabin.

Gojo and the retreat staff member—a woman in her early forties with perfectly styled hair and a polite but insistent expression—both turned to look at him.

“It’s fine,” Megumi said, voice quiet but firm. He walked over and held out the box of suppressants. “It’s not a big deal.”

The woman smiled in satisfaction, reaching out to accept the box. “Thank you for your cooperation, Sub. You’re helping create a more open and honest environment for everyone here.”

Gojo scoffed. He didn’t say anything else, but the way his jaw clenched spoke volumes.

“We’ll be serving breakfast in an hour at the dining hall,” the woman added. “Make sure you and your partner arrive together—it’s important for couples to be seen interacting naturally. Have a lovely morning.”

She turned and left immediately.

Gojo stood still for a moment, then sighed loudly before practically slamming the door shut with more force than necessary.

He turned to Megumi, expression a mix of frustration and concern. “I can’t believe you just—”

“It’s not a big deal,” Megumi repeated, running a hand through his hair.

Gojo narrowed his eyes. “Of course it’s a big deal. That means your hormones are gonna be all over the place, your mood swings are gonna suck, you're gonna have to obey Commands, and—”

“I can handle it,” Megumi cut in smoothly, crossing his arms. He tilted his head, eyes half-lidded with something that wasn’t quite amusement. “You're the one you should be worried about. You’ll have to keep your hands to yourself, since doms tend to get a little… Flustered.”

"Flustered, huh?" Gojo blinked at him, then his lips curled into a grin. “You think the strongest sorcerer alive can't handle being a little flustered?"

Before Megumi could react, Gojo reached out, catching the front of his shirt and tugging him a step closer. It wasn’t aggressive, just an easy pull, but it was enough to make Megumi’s breath hitch slightly.

He barely had time to process it before Gojo leaned in, pressing his nose into Megumi’s shoulder and inhaling deeply.

The action sent a strange shiver down Megumi’s spine. His face warmed against his will.

Gojo pulled back just slightly, eyes half-lidded, looking uncharacteristically thoughtful.

Then he sighed dramatically. “Damn. You do smell pretty good.”

Megumi shoved at his chest with a scowl, stepping back quickly. “Idiot.”

Gojo just grinned, but the teasing faded a little as he sighed. “Am I gonna have to fight other doms just to keep you?"

Megumi rolled his eyes, trying to ignore the heat still lingering in his face. “Don’t be dramatic.”

“Oh, baby,” Gojo drawled, reaching up to adjust his sunglasses as he stretched. “Dramatic is my middle name.”

Megumi turned away, ignoring the way his heart felt like it had skipped a beat somewhere in that exchange.

The retreat had barely started, and he already knew this was going to be a long week.

*

The morning sun filtered through the trees, casting golden light over the long wooden picnic tables arranged outside the dining hall.

It was a picturesque setting—calm, peaceful, and utterly deceptive.

Megumi sat stiffly beside Gojo, a tray of food in front of him that he had barely touched.

Across from them, Yuji and Nobara were eating more normally, though Yuji’s fingers kept scratching at the bare skin of his arms between bites.

Gojo’s arm draped casually over Megumi’s shoulders, his long fingers resting lightly against the side of Megumi’s upper arm. It was an easy, relaxed touch—one that added to the illusion they were supposed to maintain, but it didn’t make Megumi feel any less aware of it.

He resisted the urge to shift under the weight. Instead, he focused on the quiet murmur of conversations surrounding them.

From their table, they could hear snippets of discussion from the other couples.

Some spoke about their routines, their dynamic shifts, how wonderful it was to "live freely" at the retreat.

Others made casual jokes about the expectations put on subs to be obedient, pliant, eager to please. It was difficult to listen to without rolling his eyes.

Another group was deep in a discussion about proper discipline techniques.

Megumi felt his stomach twist.

Yuji was still scratching at his arms when Nobara huffed softly, pulling a small bottle of lotion from her purse and setting it on the table in front of him.

She raised an eyebrow expectantly, and Yuji grinned sheepishly before holding his arms out toward her.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “Some kinda withdrawal, I think. I feel itchy all over.”

“Don’t apologize,” Nobara said, unscrewing the cap and squirting some lotion onto her hands before rubbing it into Yuji’s arms with practiced ease. Her voice was quiet, almost tender. “I’m sorry they took your suppressants away.”

Yuji shrugged, watching as her fingers smoothed the lotion into his skin. “It’s fine. It’s just weird, you know? I never thought going off them would actually, like, do anything noticeable right away.”

Megumi glanced at him, feeling something similar.

He’d been taking suppressants so long that he wasn’t sure what his natural scent was supposed to be like. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

Doms could be dicks sometimes, and Megumi wasn't really in the mood for that.

Yuji, seemingly unfazed by his predicament, turned his attention to Gojo with a bright smile. “Hey, did you get the collars yet?”

Gojo had been scanning the crowd, squinting slightly behind his sunglasses as he studied the clusters of couples mingling near the picnic tables. He didn’t seem particularly impressed by anything he saw, but at least he hadn’t gotten a bad vibe yet.

At Yuji’s question, Gojo slowly shook his head. “Nah, I’ll grab them after dinner.”

That earned a small groan from Yuji. “Lame."

“You’ll live,” Gojo replied dryly, only half paying attention.

His focus remained on the people walking around, greeting each other with exaggerated smiles and overly familiar touches.

Megumi followed his gaze, scanning for anything that might seem off. But for now, it just looked like a typical gathering of overenthusiastic traditionalists.

A couple approached Yuji and Nobara’s side of the table, their smiles warm and welcoming.

The man, a tall guy with a neatly trimmed beard and an air of casual authority, glanced at Yuji before nodding approvingly at Nobara.

“What an adorable sub you have,” the man commented, his voice laced with polite condescension.

Nobara, ever the actress, smiled and nodded graciously. “Thank you.”

Yuji, on the other hand, absolutely beamed. “Oh, thanks! That’s really nice of you to say.”

The man’s face faltered slightly as he glanced at the woman beside him, clearly confused by Yuji’s enthusiasm.

Nobara briefly wondered if Yuji wasn't supposed to address a dom that didn't address him first. But she wasn't going to try to tell Yuji that.

She was honestly a little worried that some of this subordinate stuff would go to his head and force him to question who he is. And that would be a real tragedy, because Yuji was such a gem.

Gojo choked back a laugh, tilting his head as he watched the interaction.

Before the couple could say anything else, one of the camp counselors approached their table, her gaze fixed on Gojo.

“Sir, does your sub want anything else to drink?” she asked sweetly.

Gojo raised an eyebrow, glancing lazily at Megumi before looking back at the woman. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?”

The counselor’s smile stiffened. “The retreat doesn’t subscribe to those new social movements,” she said carefully. “We believe in fostering the proper balance of authority and submission within partnerships. It’s more respectful for a dom to speak for their sub.”

Gojo scoffed loudly, and before he could open his mouth and say something he shouldn’t, Megumi kicked him under the table.

Hard.

Gojo barely flinched, but he turned his head slightly to see Megumi glaring at him, eyes sharp with warning.

Gojo exhaled through his nose and forced a smile. “No, thanks. He doesn’t need anything else.”

The counselor’s posture relaxed slightly. “Wonderful. Enjoy your breakfast.” She gave Megumi one last fleeting glance before walking away.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Megumi leaned toward Gojo, his voice low. “Cool it, you idiot.”

Gojo turned his head toward him, lips twitching. “What, you don’t like me standing up for you? It doesn't make you tingle a little?"

“We’re supposed to blend in, not make ourselves a target,” Megumi hissed. “If you don’t start acting like an asshole dom like the rest of these people, we’re going to get caught.”

Gojo smirked. “Oh, my little shadow, I am an asshole. I just happen to be an asshole in favor of human rights.”

Megumi shot him a look that promised violence.

Gojo chuckled, ruffling his hair playfully.

“Fine, fine,” Gojo relented. “I’ll play nice. But if one more person tells me what my sub should or shouldn’t do, I might just have to start throwing hands.”

*

The large cabin in the center of the retreat grounds had been set up like a town hall meeting space.

Rows of wooden chairs were arranged facing a makeshift stage at the front, where a tall man in his fifties stood, speaking into a microphone with the ease of someone who was used to being listened to.

Gojo leaned back in his chair, one arm lazily slung over the back of Megumi’s seat as he casually scanned the room.

From what he could count, there were around thirty attendees, a mix of doms and subs paired off in varying degrees of affection.

Some subs sat at their doms’ feet, resting their heads against their knees, while others sat side by side, hands clasped in their doms’ grip.

A few looked entirely comfortable, but others… less so.

There were about ten camp counselors spread throughout the room, identifiable by their matching navy blue polo shirts with the retreat’s logo embroidered over the chest. Their presence felt like that of silent overseers, watching to make sure things went according to their "traditional" standards.

“Throughout the week,” the leading man was saying, his voice rich and authoritative, “you’ll have access to a variety of scheduled activities. You may attend as many or as few as you wish, though we encourage full participation to get the most out of your experience.”

Gojo barely listened as the man rattled off a list of events: communication exercises, trust-building games, guided meditation, and something called Surrender and Acceptance, which he was sure Megumi would rather die than attend.

“Since we’re near the lake,” the man continued, “we also offer water activities—canoeing, swimming, paddleboarding. Bonfires will be held at designated times in the evenings. Meals will be served three times a day in the dining hall, and there will be a strict curfew at ten p.m. to ensure that everyone gets a proper night’s rest.”

Gojo was doing his best to feign polite interest, but his focus wavered when Megumi shifted against him, subtly leaning into his arm.

Gojo turned his head slightly, a teasing comment already forming—Aw, Fushiguro, getting comfy with me already?—but it died on his tongue when he followed Megumi’s gaze.

The man sitting on Megumi’s other side, a broad-shouldered dom in his early thirties with sharp features and an overly confident smirk, was blatantly checking Megumi out.

He wasn’t even trying to hide it. His gaze trailed down Megumi’s form, lingering a beat too long before flicking up to meet Megumi’s eyes.

Megumi, ever composed, kept his expression unreadable, but the way his fingers subtly curled into his pant leg was enough for Gojo to pick up on the discomfort.

Gojo clenched his jaw, schooling his expression into something neutral.

He was trying to be good. Trying to stay undercover and not make a scene.

But he wasn’t about to sit here and let some asshole undress Megumi with his eyes.

Leaning in slightly, Gojo brought his lips close to Megumi’s ear, his voice dropping into something smoother, softer—something that carried weight.

He hadn't meant to use a Command, but it slipped out. “Move.”

It wasn’t a suggestion.

At the exact moment that Gojo rose to his feet, Megumi moved.

Smooth, seamless, like it had been his own decision, but they both knew it wasn’t.

He quickly switched seats, sliding between Yuji and Gojo without hesitation.

Yuji, oblivious to the tension, glanced at him in mild confusion.

Gojo turned to the dom Megumi had vacated his seat from, flashing him a wide, saccharine grin as he dropped heavily into the empty chair beside him.

The dom barely hid his irritation at being so blatantly interrupted, but Gojo wasn’t finished.

With exaggerated casualness, he reached down and placed a firm, possessive hand on Megumi’s knee, just enough to make a point.

His grin didn’t falter.

He just wanted to make sure everyone around them knew that Megumi belonged to someone.

Or… fake belonged to someone, he reminded himself.

For the mission.

Just for the mission.

***

Chapter Text

The soft hum of the television filled the cabin, a low, comforting background noise that made the space feel more like home—if only for a little while.

Megumi sat in the middle of the couch, his body relaxed, but his mind never fully at ease.

Nobara was stretched across his lap, scrolling through her phone with a lazy flick of her thumb, her legs comfortably draped over him.

Yuji had his head resting against Megumi’s shoulder, his eyes half-lidded as he absentmindedly watched the show playing on the screen.

It was peaceful. Familiar. A stark contrast to the world outside their cabin, where traditions weighed heavy, and eyes lingered a little too long.

The door creaked open, and Gojo walked in, the cool night air briefly trailing in behind him before the door shut with a quiet click.

Megumi’s gaze flickered toward him, noting the small brown bag in his hand.

Gojo didn’t say anything at first. He walked over, taking a seat on the coffee table in front of them, his expression uncharacteristically hesitant.

That wasn’t like him. Gojo was rarely unsure about anything.

He reached into the bag, pulling out a soft pink collar and handing it to Yuji.

Yuji immediately brightened, his grin wide and genuine. “Oh, hell yeah. Thanks.”

Gojo nodded but barely reacted otherwise. His attention was elsewhere.

He reached into the bag again, pulling out another collar—this one black and white, and very simple.

He glanced at Megumi briefly before hesitating, then finally holding it out to him.

“…Sorry,” Gojo muttered.

Megumi stared at the collar in his hand, silent. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say to that.

There was nothing for Gojo to apologize for—it wasn’t like he had a choice in the matter.

They had to wear them to blend in. It was part of the mission.

Still, his leg started anxiously bouncing.

It was subtle at first, a nervous, barely-there movement, but it didn’t take long for Nobara to notice.

She didn’t say anything—just reached over and snatched the collar from him with a scoff.

“Don’t stress about it,” she said, twirling the collar between her fingers. “It’s not something to worry about until it actually is something to worry about.”

Megumi didn’t argue, simply nodded.

Gojo sighed and reached out, placing a firm yet gentle hand on Megumi’s knee, stilling the movement.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice softer than usual.

Megumi nodded once, curt and controlled. “I’m fine.”

Gojo didn’t buy it, but he didn’t push. Instead, he gave Megumi’s knee a reassuring squeeze before speaking again.

“It doesn’t mean anything,” he reminded him, his voice even. “It’s just a costume for the mission. It’ll all be over soon.”

Megumi exhaled slowly, staring at the collar in Nobara’s hands.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “I know.”

But knowing and feeling were two very different things.

*

The morning light filtered softly through the thin curtains of their shared cabin, casting pale golden streaks across the wooden floor.

Megumi was already awake, sitting on the edge of his bed, fingers loosely intertwined in his lap.

And Megumi had things to say.

He was thinking it through when Gojo knocked, and then walked in with a wide smile. "Hey, Meggie! How'd you sleep?"

Megumi ignored him, his voice steadier than he felt. “I want to talk to you about something.”

Gojo took a seat beside Megumi on the bed and stretched, yawning loudly before tilting his head. “Sounds serious.”

Megumi nodded once. “It is.”

Gojo must have picked up on the shift in tone, because the playfulness faded slightly.

Megumi swallowed. “I wanted to say… thank you.”

Gojo raised an eyebrow. “For what?”

“For noticing that I was uncomfortable yesterday,” Megumi said, his voice quieter now. “And for helping me get away from that guy.”

Gojo’s expression softened. “Of course.”

There was a pause, a heartbeat of silence.

Megumi took a breath, gathering the courage to say the next part.

“But,” he continued, voice more firm now, “I need you to promise me something.”

Gojo’s brow furrowed slightly. “Alright.”

“Promise me you won’t use a Command on me again,” Megumi said, his stomach twisting at the memory of it. “Not unless you absolutely have to.”

Gojo froze for half a second, like he hadn’t expected that.

Megumi clenched his jaw, trying to keep his voice steady. “It’s… It’s terrifying. To be controlled like that. To know that I have to obey.” He exhaled slowly, not looking at Gojo. “I didn’t appreciate it.”

There was another silence, this one heavier.

Gojo didn’t hesitate.

“Megumi,” he said, his voice unusually gentle. “I’m so sorry.”

Megumi glanced at him then, catching the way Gojo’s face was completely serious. No teasing, no dodging the moment with humor—just pure sincerity.

“I won’t do it again,” Gojo promised.

Megumi exhaled, the tension in his shoulders loosening just a fraction.

But even with Gojo’s immediate and absolute apology, there was still a tightness in his chest, an unease that wouldn’t quite settle.

Gojo noticed.

And before Megumi could react, Gojo reached out and pulled him into a hug.

Megumi froze.

Gojo was warm, his embrace strong but careful, his arms wrapping around Megumi’s back in a way that felt grounding rather than overwhelming.

Megumi should pull away.

He didn’t.

For just one second too long, he let himself lean into it.

He let himself believe that Gojo was his safe place.

When he finally mustered the strength to pull back, his voice was barely above a murmur.

“…I forgive you.”

Gojo didn’t let go immediately, just stayed close enough that Megumi could still feel the weight of his warmth.

Megumi swallowed, his words quiet but firm. “I trust you.” He looked down at his hands, his next admission coming slower. “Without my suppressants, it's scary, but... I trust you."

Gojo took that seriously.

The usual lightheartedness in his expression was gone, replaced with something steady and sure.

“I know it's scary,” Gojo said, his voice low but unwavering. “I’ll do everything I can to keep you safe. I'd do anything."

*

The day started with Gojo, for once, deciding to take a backseat.

It wasn’t like him to hold back, but he wanted to give his students—his team—their own space to handle this mission.

They had graduated. They weren’t just kids anymore.

As they gathered in the cabin, finishing breakfast, he leaned against the kitchen counter and turned his attention to Nobara.

“So, boss,” Gojo said, smirking. “What’s step one?”

Nobara, halfway through tying her hair back, raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you actually asking me?”

“Sure am.”

She narrowed her eyes, searching for the trick, but Gojo just gestured lazily for her to continue.

She exhaled, crossing her arms. “Fine. First step is gathering information. We need to talk to the workers and the other guests. Figure out what they think about this place—see if anyone’s acting weird.”

Gojo hummed, nodding along. “Good plan. I like it.” Then he turned to Yuji. “Alright, Sunshine. How do we do that?”

Yuji blinked, clearly caught off guard. He frowned, thinking hard, and then suddenly snapped his fingers. “Oh! I saw on the schedule that there’s lunch on the beach today. If we go, we can mingle, ask questions, and see how people behave.”

Gojo grinned, ruffling Yuji’s hair. “That’s a great idea.”

Yuji beamed, lifting his hand for a high-five that Gojo eagerly returned.

“Alright,” Gojo said, pushing off the counter. “You guys go get changed. We’ll meet up in front of your cabin in ten.”

Yuji and Nobara hurried off, and Gojo turned to head to his and Megumi’s shared room.

*

In their cabin, Megumi stood by his bed, staring at the clothes in his bag.

The idea of going without his usual layers made him uncomfortable.

He wasn’t a fan of summer to begin with—too hot, too much skin, too many people getting too close. He felt exposed in a way that had nothing to do with the weather.

But Gojo didn’t seem to have any hesitation.

When Megumi glanced over, Gojo had already changed, a lightweight white button-up left completely unbuttoned, revealing fair skin and a well-defined torso.

His swim trunks sat low on his hips, casual and effortless, and Megumi quickly looked away, feeling heat crawl up his neck.

Gojo caught his expression and smirked. “Wow. Didn’t know you were so shy, Meggie.”

“Shut up,” Megumi muttered, yanking his own shirt off over his head and pulling on a plain dark blue tank top.

He threw a loose button-up over it for good measure, hoping to avoid any unnecessary exposure.

Gojo just chuckled, far too entertained, before slinging a towel over his shoulder. “C’mon, let’s go before Yuji eats all the food.”

*

The beach was already buzzing with activity when they arrived.

A group of counselors stood near the entrance, handing out towels to guests.

Others were cooking, the scent of grilled fish and roasted vegetables wafting through the warm air.

A few people had already claimed spots on the sand, some lounging under umbrellas while others waded into the water.

Gojo leaned down slightly, voice smooth as he spoke near Megumi’s ear. “We can sit wherever you want.”

Megumi didn’t mean to react, but the combination of Gojo’s voice and the casual way he let Megumi decide made his chest feel warm.

Damn him.

Trying not to overthink it, he pointed toward a quiet spot near the front of the beach, where they had a good view of both the water and the other guests.

Gojo smiled, pleased, and led the way.

The group laid their towels out in a row, settling into their spots.

Megumi sat between Yuji and Gojo, while Nobara sat on the other side of Yuji.

As they got comfortable, Gojo turned to Nobara, voice light but firm.

“To be a responsible dom,” he said, “you should always be looking out for subs—not just the ones you’re dating or interested in. It’s your duty to speak up for the ones who can’t.”

Nobara blinked, surprised at the sudden lesson. "I will."

Gojo continued, gesturing to their arrangement on the sand. “That’s why you should always sit on the outside—with your sub in the middle."

Nobara absorbed that information with a thoughtful nod.

Gojo grinned, shifting slightly on his towel. “Same goes for walking on sidewalks—make sure your sub isn’t the one closest to the street. And in a bedroom, you sleep closest to the door.”

Megumi found himself quietly listening, impressed despite himself.

He couldn't stop himself from pulling his button-up off, leaving him in just his tank top. For some reason, he hoped nobody would look at him.

Nobara snorted, crossing her arms. “Since when are you so caring and responsible?”

Gojo waved her off. “It comes in waves. Sorry, this whole situation is just making me-- I just want to make sure we're keeping an eye on everything."

Before anyone could respond, Yuji suddenly tossed his shirt off and sprinted toward the water.

“I’m going in!” he shouted, his voice full of excitement as he leapt into the lake with an enormous splash.

The group collectively watched him for a moment before Nobara pulled off her own shirt, revealing a cute purple bathing suit underneath.

“Wait for me, idiot!” she called, rushing after him.

Gojo chuckled, watching them go. Then he turned to Megumi, nudging him lightly. “You wanna go after them?”

Megumi made the fatal mistake of looking at him.

Gojo had shed his shirt too, leaning back on one arm, casually becoming sun-kissed and infuriatingly attractive.

His silver-white hair caught the sunlight, a few strands sticking to his forehead, and his long, toned frame stretched out on the towel like he belonged there.

Megumi immediately forgot how words worked.

“…No, thanks,” he muttered, averting his gaze as fast as possible.

Gojo shrugged, unaware of Megumi’s silent suffering, and scooted closer—just enough to throw an arm around Megumi’s shoulders in a loose, comfortable hold.

They sat there like that, watching Yuji and Nobara splash around in the lake, while Megumi fought desperately not to think about the fact that Gojo’s bare skin was pressed against his own.

The mission had barely started.

And Megumi was already losing.

*

The sun glistened over the lake’s surface, casting golden reflections that rippled across the gentle waves.

Yuji and Nobara stood waist-deep in the water, enjoying the warmth as they chatted idly about nothing in particular.

Nobara tilted her head back, soaking in the sunlight before glancing toward the beach.

Gojo and Megumi were still sitting together, talking as they ate. Megumi looked tense—not unusual, but there was something different about it today.

With a sly grin, Nobara leaned toward Yuji.

“I have a secret to share,” she murmured. "Totally forgot to tell you."

Yuji immediately straightened, stepping closer with concern. “Are you okay?”

Nobara scoffed, rolling her eyes before smacking his shoulder. “Ugh, don't be nice. No, dumbass, I have a secret about Megumi.”

Yuji’s brows shot up, curiosity igniting in his eyes. “Oh? What kind of secret?”

Nobara lowered her voice, her expression smug. “He told me that he's suffering from a huge crush on Gojo right now.”

Yuji gasped loudly, causing a few nearby swimmers to glance their way.

He immediately turned toward the beach, his eyes locking onto Megumi like he was looking for evidence.

Megumi’s face was tinged pink, his lips pressed into a thin line as he stubbornly refused to look at Gojo.

Meanwhile, Gojo was talking animatedly, his hands moving in exaggerated gestures—completely oblivious to the effect he was having on his “sub.”

Yuji turned back to Nobara, his excitement barely contained. “Oh, my God. It’s so obvious.”

Nobara smirked. “Right? I’ve been watching him all morning—he gets so weird around Gojo. The blushing, the avoiding eye contact, the tiny little glances when Gojo isn’t paying attention. Poor guy's practically lovesick."

Yuji nodded rapidly. “Oh, and earlier, when Gojo threw his arm around him? He looked like he was about to short-circuit.”

Nobara laughed, delighted with their discovery. “We’re watching a man fall apart in real time.”

As they continued their hushed discussion, a couple swam by, pausing just long enough to greet them.

“Hey there,” the woman said, smiling warmly. “Enjoying the water?”

Yuji, quick to be friendly, grinned and waved. “Hey! Yeah, it’s so nice today. How about you?”

“We’re fabulous,” the woman said, flipping her wet hair over her shoulder. Then she turned to Nobara. “By the way, I love your swimsuit.”

Nobara beamed, flipping her ponytail. “Thanks! Took me forever to find the right color.”

The woman nodded approvingly before the conversation shifted toward their mission.

Nobara kept her tone casual, tilting her head slightly. “So, have you guys come to this retreat before?”

The man shook his head. “Nope, first time. We’d heard good things around town, so we wanted to try it out.”

That piqued Nobara’s interest. “Yeah, I booked it for us, but then I got a little nervous because I saw a news article about someone having a bad experience here.”

The woman’s smile wavered just a fraction before she shrugged. “Yeah… We saw something about that, too. There was a disappearance up here a while ago.”

Yuji and Nobara exchanged a quick glance.

“How long ago?” Nobara asked, forcing herself to sound simply curious.

The man thought for a moment. “I think about a month? Maybe more? The resort never said much about it.”

Nobara hummed, pretending to mull that over. “Huh. Well, hopefully, nothing like that happens while we’re here.”

*

Gojo was leaning on his elbow, listening intently as Megumi told him a story between bites of their lunch.

It was nothing special—just some weird dream he'd had a few days ago—but Gojo liked hearing him talk.

Megumi rarely spoke unless he had to, so when he did, Gojo listened.

But midway through his story, Megumi hesitated, pressing his lips together.

Then, with a small sigh of reluctance, he reached down and finally pulled his tank top off, setting it aside.

“Sorry,” he muttered, not looking at Gojo. “It’s just too hot.”

Gojo raised an eyebrow. Apologizing? For what?

Gojo waved him off, voice casual but warm. “You don’t have to apologize for that.”

Still, Gojo's eyes subtly scanned the beach—checking to see if anyone was staring too hard, anyone lingering too long.

He had a feeling he couldn't trust any of these doms to be respectful toward subs, so he tried to keep his eyes up.

When his eyes scanned back over, they landed on Megumi's face. He wasn’t sure if Megumi even realized it, but he looked a little uncomfortable, his posture slightly tense.

Gojo leaned in slightly, lowering his voice so only Megumi could hear. "You look great."

"Shut up." Came Megumi's sharp response.

“You know,” Gojo murmured, his tone softer than usual, “you’re way too beautiful to be insecure or uncomfortable.”

Megumi froze.

His head snapped toward Gojo, eyes wide with disbelief—like he hadn’t just heard Gojo say the word beautiful in reference to him.

Gojo met his gaze, completely unfazed, because he meant it. Every single word.

Through the dark lenses of Gojo’s sunglasses, Megumi could see just enough of his striking blue eyes, locked onto him with a look that was too deep, too intense.

Megumi couldn’t handle it.

He quickly cleared his throat, breaking eye contact as he pushed himself up onto his feet.

“Watch my food,” he muttered, his voice stiff.

And then, before Gojo could respond, Megumi turned and walked toward the lake, heading for Yuji and Nobara.

Anything—anything—would be better than sitting next to Gojo and feeling himself fall even harder for a man who would never feel the same way.

*

The three of them made their way back to shore, Yuji leading the way with eager steps, his stomach loudly protesting his time spent in the water without food.

Nobara and Megumi followed behind at a slower pace, the cool water rolling off their skin as they moved toward the sun-warmed sand.

Nobara leaned in slightly, her voice low but insistent. “So… How’s everything going with Gojo?”

Megumi immediately tensed. “Not talking about this.”

“I’m not asking to be nosy, I’m asking because I’m concerned.” She rolled her eyes. "Looking out for my subs, and all that."

He let out a sharp exhale, shoulders slumping slightly.

Nobara might tease him relentlessly, but when she really cared, she didn’t let things go.

He glanced at her, then at Yuji, who had subtly slowed his pace to listen.

“…I just need to get a grip,” Megumi admitted finally, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m worried that my feelings for him are… Getting worse. And I can't let something stupid like that get in the way of the mission.”

Nobara’s expression softened. “Aw, Fushi—”

“It doesn’t matter,” he cut her off. “I just need to let it go and stop embarrassing myself. Gojo would never feel the same way about me.”

Yuji frowned, his voice quieter than usual. “Why do you think that?”

"Come on." Megumi let out a small scoff, shaking his head. “You've seen him. He’s damn near perfect. He deserves someone better than me—someone who’s not constantly exhausted, someone who’s not emotionally unavailable, someone who actually knows how to love him properly.”

Nobara clicked her tongue in irritation. “That’s bullshit.”

Megumi blinked at her, caught off guard by how firm she sounded.

“You don’t get to decide what that idiot deserves,” she said, crossing her arms. “And for the record? You’re incredible, Gumi. You deserve to be happy just like everyone else. But if you're not even willing to try, then that's on you."

Megumi looked away, something twisting painfully in his chest.

Before he could respond, they stepped up onto the sand—and Megumi’s feet halted mid-step.

Gojo was laying back on his elbows, relaxed and smiling as he talked to another guest.

A woman.

She was clearly into him, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger as she laughed a little too hard at something Gojo had said.

Every few moments, her hand would reach out to touch his arm, her eyes filled with clear, open interest.

Gojo… didn’t seem bothered by it at all.

Megumi’s breath caught in his throat. He couldn’t look away.

The moment Nobara and Yuji noticed his hesitation, they followed his gaze—and their expressions shifted from curiosity to careful concern.

“Megumi…” Nobara started, her voice softer now.

But before any of them could say anything, Gojo glanced up—and the moment his eyes landed on Megumi, his face lit up with an easy, lopsided grin.

He immediately reached a hand out toward him.

The group walked closer, close enough to have a front row view of the interaction.

“There you are,” Gojo said, beckoning Megumi over with a tug of his fingers, as he grabbed Megumi's hand. “C’mon, I want you to meet someone.”

Megumi hesitated.

But Gojo’s grip was strong, and before he could process why, he found himself tugged down to sit beside him on the towel.

“Emi, this is Megumi,” Gojo said, throwing an arm casually around Megumi’s waist—a little too possessive, a little too exaggerated. “My sub. Isn't he stunning?"

Megumi’s heart stuttered in his chest.

The woman—Emi—blinked in surprise, her flirty expression faltering slightly as she looked between them.

“Oh,” she said, forcing a polite smile. “How sweet. You two look good together."

Gojo’s fingers brushed against Megumi’s hip as he tilted his head. “I know."

Megumi was still confused—but he stayed quiet, letting Gojo control the conversation.

Emi, sensing that her opportunity had passed, let out a light laugh and pushed herself up. “Well, it was nice meeting you both,” she said, smoothing out her cover-up. “Enjoy the rest of your day.”

With that, she finally scurried away.

The moment she was out of earshot, Megumi turned toward Gojo, still trying to piece together what just happened.

Yuji and Nobara stepped closer, equally intrigued.

Gojo stretched his arms over his head, exhaling loudly. “Thought she’d never leave.”

Megumi blinked. “What?”

Gojo grinned but offered an apologetic shrug. “I was trying to get some information from her, but then she wouldn’t stop talking.” He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping. “It was exhausting."

Nobara rolled her eyes as she sat down on part of Yuji's towel. "Oh poor you. Must be so hard to be athletic and gorgeous."

Megumi felt relief flood through his chest so fast it almost knocked him over.

He didn’t fully understand why he felt relieved—he just did.

Yuji sat down with Nobara, immediately reaching over to take some of the vegetables off of Gojo's plate to eat them.

Gojo didn't mind, but his eyes remained on Megumi's face. "Sorry, Megs. Hope I didn't embarrass you or anything."

Megumi let out a small exhale, shaking his head. “You’re ridiculous.”

Gojo only smirked, pushing his sunglasses up onto his forehead.

Megumi didn’t meet his gaze.

Because if he did, he’d be terrified of what he might see there.

***

Chapter Text

Yuji and Nobara had taken it upon themselves to mingle with the other retreat goers, wandering around the beach and striking up casual conversations.

They played their parts well—Yuji with his natural friendliness, easily getting people to open up, and Nobara with her sharp intuition, pressing for details without making it seem like an interrogation.

And the more they talked, the more concerning details they uncovered.

A pattern of disappearances.

Guests who never returned home. Stories about how the resort always dodged questions about what happened.

Some people chalked it up to accidents in the woods, but others… others had a gut feeling something wasn’t right.

Meanwhile, back on the towels, Megumi and Gojo were still seated together, their conversation far more relaxed.

Gojo was talking with an unusual sincerity, leaning back on his hands as he gazed out over the water.

“Makes me feel old, y'know?” he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Seeing you guys graduate.”

Megumi turned his head slightly, caught off guard by the sentimentality. "Well, you are old."

"Oh, hush." Gojo let out a soft chuckle. “It’s just weird for me. I’m used to being the strongest. The one everyone relies on. But you guys… you’re getting stronger, too.”

Megumi wasn’t sure where this was going, so he stayed silent, letting Gojo continue.

“You guys make me really proud,” Gojo admitted, tilting his head toward him. “Especially you, Megumi.”

Megumi snorted, rolling his eyes. “I'm sure."

“No, I mean it,” Gojo said, and there was something in his tone that made Megumi pause. “I don’t think I say it enough.”

Megumi swallowed. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate the praise—it was just… unexpected.

Gojo had always been loud, reckless, impossible to predict. But moments like this—when he was actually serious—they were rare.

It was almost like Gojo was growing up right alongside him. Megumi graduated school, but Gojo had become much more mature recently. 

Megumi felt his face warm slightly, unsure of how to respond to such a compliment.

Luckily, Gojo got distracted mid-sentence, his expression shifting into mild concern as his gaze zeroed in on Megumi’s face.

“…Hey,” Gojo murmured, sitting up straighter.

Megumi blinked in confusion. “What?”

Gojo reached forward, grabbing Nobara’s purse from where it sat on the towel in front of them.

Megumi watched suspiciously as Gojo rummaged through it like he had every right to be there, before finally pulling out a tube of sunscreen.

Immediately, Megumi held out a hand, already knowing where this was going.

Gojo paused, studying him for a second. Then, without any teasing, he simply held onto the bottle. "I can do it, if you want."

Megumi hesitated, fingers curling slightly. He knew Gojo was right—subs weren’t supposed to take care of themselves in places like this.

But… No way.

He couldn't possibly let Gojo touch him like that.

“I got it,” Megumi said quickly.

Gojo must have noticed the shift in his posture, because he immediately let it go, tossing the bottle lightly into Megumi’s open palm.

“Sorry,” Gojo said easily, not pushing the matter further.

"It's fine." Megumi swallowed down the tension in his chest, squeezing the bottle a little harder than necessary as he muttered, “Thanks.”

Why did he feel so unbearably awkward right now?

Right in the middle of him rubbing it onto his arms, Yuji and Nobara returned, looking both excited and disturbed.

Yuji flopped down onto his towel, wiping water from his face. “Okay,” he said between breaths. “So, we’ve been talking to people, and you won’t believe what we’re hearing.”

Nobara plopped down beside him, crossing her legs. “Yeah. Disappearances. Multiple. And it sounds like it's mostly subs.”

Gojo tilted his head, intrigued, but leaned in slightly before she could go into detail.

“We’ll talk about it later,” he murmured, voice low, his eyes scanning the beach for listening ears. “Not here.”

Nobara nodded immediately, understanding the risk.

Instead, Gojo turned to Yuji, flashing a grin. “Want to hit the water?"

Yuji lit up instantly, grabbing Gojo’s wrist without hesitation. “Hell yes.”

Megumi barely had time to process what was happening before Yuji was dragging Gojo up to his feet, practically hauling him toward the lake.

“Don’t drown each other,” Nobara called after them, rolling onto her stomach.

Gojo just threw a hand up in a lazy wave, already letting Yuji pull him into the deeper part of the water.

Nobara turned her attention back to Megumi, watching him for a second.

“So... How’s it going?” she asked, voice dripping with amusement.

Megumi exhaled heavily, rubbing his temples. “I still haven’t forgiven you for assigning me to him.”

Nobara grinned, completely unfazed. “Why? Are you falling for his hot bod and manly charms?"

"Yes." Megumi groaned, flopping down onto his towel. “It’s embarrassing.”

Nobara laughed, kicking her feet idly in the sand. “Well, if you ask me... It’s nice to see you lose your cool for once. He's probably flattered.”

Megumi shot her a flat glare. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I do.”

"So, about this crush." Nobara smirked, stretching out and letting the sun warm her skin. “Are you gonna do something about it?”

"The fuck?" Megumi tensed slightly, turning his head toward her. “Of course not."

“I’m just saying,” she continued, voice softer now, “Gojo’s a dumbass, but he’s not blind. Plus, he treats you differently than the rest of us. I honestly don't think it would be the worst thing, if you told him."

Megumi looked away, staring out toward the lake, where Gojo was laughing as Yuji tried to splash water in his face.

“It doesn’t matter,” he muttered.

Nobara sighed. “Fine, stay in denial. But just so you know?” She sat up slightly, smirking again. “We’re rooting for you.”

Megumi groaned again, hating everything.

*

The soft crackle of the fireplace filled the quiet cabin, the low flames casting flickering shadows along the wooden walls.

Megumi sat cross-legged on the floor, a book resting in his lap, though he’d barely turned a page in the last ten minutes.

He had already showered and changed, opting for a pair of sweatpants and a loose shirt, the warmth of the fire keeping him comfortable as he tried to relax before dinner.

The peace didn’t last long.

The bathroom door creaked open, and Gojo strolled out—damp, towel slung low around his hips, steam curling behind him.

Megumi barely glanced up, but his stomach flipped violently the moment he caught a glimpse of him.

Perfect skin, toned abs, droplets of water trailing down—

Nope.

His eyes snapped back to his book, his grip tightening slightly.

He could hear Gojo padding closer, casual and effortless, and then—

“What’re you up to?” Gojo asked, flopping down onto the couch behind Megumi, arms draped over the back of it like he was lounging on a throne.

Megumi clenched his jaw. “Put some damn clothes on.”

Gojo chuckled, utterly unbothered. “If you think I'm ugly, just say that."

Megumi glared at him from the corner of his eye, deliberately avoiding looking below Gojo’s neck.

“Stop fishing for compliments. I just don’t want to see you naked, you perv.”

Gojo sighed dramatically. “That’s a shame. Thought we were past the ‘embarrassed’ phase of our relationship.”

Megumi’s eye twitched.

“We’re not in a relationship.”

“Sure we are,” Gojo hummed. “It's all about staying in character."

"Whatever." Megumi exhaled sharply. “Do whatever you want."

Gojo smirked, but for once, he actually listened, standing up and stretching leisurely before wandering into their shared bedroom.

Megumi let out a breath of relief, forcing himself to focus back on his book. Crisis averted.

Or so he thought.

A few minutes later, Gojo returned—but the relief was short-lived.

Because while yes, he had put on sweatpants, no, he had not bothered putting on a shirt.

Megumi’s entire body tensed as Gojo plopped himself down on the floor beside him, legs stretched out comfortably, skin still slightly damp from his shower.

Megumi refused to look at him.

“What the hell do you need a fireplace for?” Gojo whined, stretching like a cat, his arms brushing against Megumi’s shoulder as he leaned back on his hands. “It’s hot as hell outside.”

“It’s cold in here,” Megumi argued, flipping a page in his book without actually reading it.

“If you say so.” Gojo made a noise of disbelief, leaning slightly into him.

Megumi huffed, shifting slightly to put more space between them, but Gojo wasn’t having it.

Before Megumi could react, Gojo reached out and tugged him into a firm hug, arms wrapping around his shoulders like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Megumi stiffened immediately, his face dangerously close to Gojo’s bare chest.

“There,” Gojo murmured, his voice low, warm, teasing. “I’ll keep you warm.”

Megumi was going to die.

His brain completely short-circuited, and for one horrible, fleeting second, he actually let himself enjoy it—the solid warmth of Gojo’s body, the way he smelled like lavender soap and heat, the casual ease with which Gojo held him.

Megumi swallowed hard. “You’re insufferable.”

Gojo just grinned, his breath tickling the side of Megumi’s neck.

“You love me."

“I don’t.”

“You do. Look how cute I am."

“Satoru.”

“Hm?”

“…Let go of me.”

Gojo finally loosened his hold, but he didn’t move away.

Instead, he tilted his head slightly, studying Megumi’s face, his expression still full of mischief but with something softer underneath it.

Megumi was too aware of how close they were.

Of Gojo’s bare skin, the heat radiating off of him, the sharp intensity of his gaze.

This was bad. This was so bad.

So he did the only thing he could think of.

He shoved Gojo off him, sending him toppling onto his back on the floor.

Gojo burst into full, delighted laughter, lying spread out on the wooden floor, his head tilted toward Megumi with pure amusement.

Megumi was shocked at first, that Gojo had let his guard down like that. Gojo was practically untouchable, and never caught unaware. 

But he had let Megumi push him down with no problem.

Megumi huffed, turning back to his book as if his entire face wasn’t on fire.

Gojo let the silence stretch for a moment before grinning up at him.

“Careful Meggie,” he drawled. “You're seriously turning me on."

Megumi flipped another page aggressively.

“I’m ignoring you.”

Gojo just laughed again, stretching his arms behind his head as he settled in beside him on the floor, completely content.

Megumi exhaled slowly, forcing himself to focus on his book.

*

The dining hall hummed with quiet conversation, the clinking of silverware punctuating the low murmur of voices.

Lanterns overhead bathed the space in a warm, golden glow, casting flickering shadows over the long wooden tables.

Couples sat in varying states of intimacy—some leaning into each other with easy familiarity, others maintaining a more measured distance.

Yuji, as always, had no trouble blending in.

He was grinning, chatting with the couple across from him, effortlessly steering the conversation toward the retreat, their relationship, and—subtly—anything that might have seemed off since their arrival.

Nobara, however, was more focused on their surroundings than the meal in front of her.

She nudged Yuji lightly, lowering her voice.

“Don’t look now, but remember that redheaded couple over there?” Her tone was casual, but her eyes were sharp as she inclined her head toward a pair across the room.

A man and a woman, both with sharp features and a rigid posture—too rigid.

Their smiles looked rehearsed, their movements a little too precise.

Yuji flicked his gaze over for a quick glance, but before he could say anything, the couple rose from their seats.

And they weren’t alone.

They followed another pair—a more unassuming couple—toward the back of the dining hall, where the bathrooms were.

Yuji, still deep in conversation, merely hummed in response, so Nobara made a quick decision.

She turned to Gojo instead, her voice low.

“Yuji and I think something’s up with that redheaded couple,” she murmured. “I promise to explain later, but you're just gonna have to trust me. They just followed those two toward the bathrooms."

Gojo, who had been lazily picking at his food, barely reacted. His usual bored expression didn’t waver, but after a beat, he sighed and stood.

Without a word, he extended a hand toward Megumi.

Megumi hesitated—just for a second—but he took it.

Gojo’s fingers curled easily around his as he led them away from the table, toward the back of the dining hall.

Their pace was casual, measured. They couldn’t attract too much attention.

The hallway near the bathrooms was dimmer, quieter. A slight draft carried the faint scent of wood polish and something floral from the nearby candles.

Gojo paused near the door, tilting his head slightly as he listened.

The voices inside were hushed, but urgent.

“…After curfew?” one voice murmured.

A second, female, hesitant. “Yeah. But we have to be careful. There's a few counselors that make their rounds out there."

A third voice, steadier. More authoritative. “We’ll meet at the lake. Midnight.”

Gojo shifted, leaning in to catch more—

But then, the voices moved.

The doorknob rattled.

The door was about to open.

Without thinking, Gojo reached out.

His fingers curled around Megumi’s wrist, yanking him back—pressing him against the wooden wall in one fluid motion.

Megumi barely had time to register the movement before Gojo was suddenly right there.

His body blocked out the dim lantern light, his presence overwhelming in the tight space.

His hand slid from Megumi’s wrist to his jaw, tilting his face just slightly—

A calculated movement.

From the outside, they weren’t lurking suspiciously in the hallway. They were just a couple, caught in a stolen moment.

Megumi’s heartbeat kicked up violently.

Gojo’s warmth seeped through the thin fabric of his shirt, his breath ghosting against Megumi’s skin.

It was instinct, a reaction Megumi hated, but he found his eyes flickering downward—

Gojo’s mouth was right there.

The hallway suddenly felt too hot. Too suffocating.

And Megumi—Megumi caught himself almost leaning in.

Just for a second.

Just long enough to wonder what it would feel like if Gojo actually wanted this.

The door opened.

A low chuckle.

One of the redheaded men, pausing just outside the doorway, took them in with a smirk. "Oh! Excuse us."

Another man spoke up. “Damn. That’s a beautiful sub you’ve got there.”

Megumi’s stomach twisted—though whether it was discomfort or something else entirely, he wasn’t sure.

Gojo didn’t hesitate.

He flashed an easy grin, his hand sliding lower, settling on Megumi’s waist like it belonged there.

“I know.” His voice was light, effortless. “I'm pretty lucky, aren’t I?”

The man let out an approving chuckle before following his group down the hall.

Silence settled between them as they were left alone.

Megumi barely realized he’d been holding his breath until Gojo didn’t move away.

The hand on his waist lingered, fingers light, but present.

Gojo's eyes searched Megumi's for a moment, before flashing down to Megumi's lips.

His other hand tilted Megumi’s chin again, softer this time—

And Megumi wasn’t sure if Gojo was even thinking about what he was doing anymore.

Because Megumi certainly wasn’t.

His eyes flickered downward again, just briefly, and—

Gojo leaned in.

Or at least, Megumi could have sworn he did.

It was the smallest shift—so brief it might not have even been real—but Megumi felt it.

His pulse jumped, panic flaring in his chest.

This felt too real.

Was he making a fool of himself?

Before he could stop himself, he shoved Gojo away and cleared his throat softly.

Gojo blinked, then huffed out a low laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry, that was way more dramatic than I'd intended it to be."

Megumi ignored him, pressing down the ridiculous urge to check if his hands were shaking.

Gojo took it in stride, as he always did. His usual playful grin slipped back into place, as if the moment had never happened.

And then—he reached for Megumi’s hand again.

Casual. Effortless.

Like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Gojo twined their fingers together, tugging him back toward the dining hall.

“C’mon.” His voice was light, easy. "I promise I won't do that again. Sorry."

But Megumi’s mind was still spinning.

Because for just a second—so brief it might not have even been real—

Gojo had hesitated.

And Megumi was starting to wonder if maybe he wasn’t the only one feeling this tension between them.

And since when did Gojo apologize for his behavior this often? It was completely uncharacteristic of him.

Maybe Nobara was right. Maybe Gojo had a soft spot for him after all.

***

Chapter Text

The warmth of the dining hall clung to Megumi’s skin, but he felt cold. His mind reeled, heart pounding in an erratic rhythm that had nothing to do with the mission and everything to do with Gojo’s lingering touch.

He didn’t even realize they had made it back to the table until Yuji’s voice pulled him from his thoughts.

"Hey, you okay?"

Megumi blinked, catching the concern in Yuji’s wide, earnest eyes.

He nodded once, short and dismissive. "Yeah."

Nobara wasn’t so easily deterred. She turned her sharp gaze to Gojo, arms folded over her chest.

"So? Did you hear anything suspicious?"

Gojo, unbothered as ever, leaned in slightly, voice dropping just enough to keep the conversation between them. "Midnight. A meeting at the lake. Seems like our new friends have some secret plans."

Nobara’s eyes lit up, her mouth stretching into a victorious grin. "Finally," she whispered, pleased.

The mission was finally taking off.

Megumi, however, couldn’t bring himself to care. His fingers curled into his lap, his appetite long gone.

Gojo studied Megumi for a second, then casually leaned forward, his voice softer than before. "Hey."

Megumi tensed.

"Sorry again," Gojo murmured, and it was too soft—too careful, like he was trying not to spook him.

But the truth was, he just felt guilty. He felt terribly that his actions were affecting Megumi this much.

Nobara caught it immediately, narrowing her eyes. "Sorry for what?"

Gojo didn’t even hesitate. "Our cover was almost blown, so I just... Made it look like we were just a couple sneaking off to make out in the hallway."

Their table went quiet, and Megumi refused to look up.

But he didn’t have to—because Yuji was already staring at him, realization dawning behind his wide eyes.

It clicked.

The way Megumi had been acting ever since they got back. His uncharacteristic silence, his untouched food, the way his shoulders had been tense since the moment they sat down.

Yuji understood.

Nobara felt the need to defend him, and she glared at Gojo. "Don't be a creep. You couldn't think of anything else? Why couldn't you just pretend you were--I don't know-- Going to the bathroom? Is going to the bathroom too suspicious?"

Gojo half shrugged. "I didn't want them to think we heard anything."

Megumi didn't want to listen to it anymore. It was embarrassing enough without his friends trying to defend his honor.

It's not like it was Gojo's fault. Gojo was just thinking of the mission, doing his job. It was Megumi who couldn't focus on anything but his teammate.

It wasn’t the act that had rattled him. It was the fact that for one brief moment, Megumi could have pretended it was real.

And then reality had slammed back into him, reminding him that to Gojo, it was nothing more than a game.

The thought made Megumi’s stomach twist. He forced himself to pick at the plate in front of him, pushing his food around aimlessly.

Nobara, however, wasn’t letting him sulk. She knew him too well to allow him to get wrapped up in his own mind.

She picked up a vegetable from her plate and held it up to his lips. "Eat."

Megumi shot her a withering look.

She didn’t waver.

With a reluctant sigh, he took a bite—if only to shut her up.

Gojo watched the exchange, but said nothing.

Dinner dragged on, and Megumi stayed quiet, unwilling to contribute anything to the conversation.

He barely absorbed anything his friends were saying. He hadn’t learned anything new about the mission. He hadn’t investigated a single thing.

And he didn’t care.

By the time the meal was finished, Megumi just wanted to lie down and forget this entire night.

As they made their way back to the cabins, Yuji fell into step beside him, hands in his pockets. "You sure you don’t wanna stay with us tonight? I don't mind taking the couch."

Megumi shook his head. "We’re supposed to be blending in. We don’t want to raise any suspicion."

Yuji frowned, clearly unconvinced.

When Megumi finally stepped into his cabin, exhaustion pulled at him, but sleep felt impossible.

Instead, he grabbed his phone, settling onto his bed and scrolling mindlessly—anything to distract himself.

Two minutes.

That was all the peace he got.

Then the door creaked open.

Megumi didn’t even have to look up to know who it was.

"Go away."

Gojo didn’t listen. He never did.

Instead, he stepped further inside, closing the door behind him. "I need to talk to you."

Megumi didn’t look away from his phone. "I don’t care."

Gojo sighed, running a hand through his hair. His voice was different this time. Serious.

And that was the problem.

Megumi could handle Gojo being annoying. He could handle the teasing, the jokes, the insufferable arrogance.

But serious Gojo was really starting to get on his nerves.

"I feel like I did something really horrible."

Megumi finally looked up.

Gojo was standing near the edge of the bed, shoulders slumped in a way that didn’t suit him. His usual grin was nowhere to be found.

"I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, Megumi." His voice was quiet. Careful. "I feel like I’ve been harassing you this whole time. Making you feel awful. And I—"

"Stop."

Megumi gritted his teeth, gripping his phone tightly before setting it aside.

Gojo didn’t stop.

"I feel terrible." He let out a rough exhale, rubbing the back of his neck. "I thought I was just playing around and going along with our mission, but if I’ve been making you miserable—"

"You haven’t."

The words slipped out before Megumi could stop them.

Gojo just stared at him. He couldn't understand.

For the first time in a long time, he had no immediate response.

Megumi’s fingers twitched against the sheets. He clenched his jaw, trying to backtrack.

"I just mean, it’s fine. It’s just a mission. You don’t have to feel bad."

Gojo narrowed his eyes. "Megs, please. Can you just be honest with me?"

Megumi’s stomach twisted. He pushed himself up from the bed, fully prepared to shove Gojo out the door—

But Gojo refused to move.

Instead, he studied Megumi, the weight of his gaze unbearable.

"I just don't understand. You're saying that it's fine, but you're not acting like it. Am I missing something?"

Megumi stiffened.

Gojo’s eyes flickered over him, as if he was finally putting things together. The tension. The way Megumi reacted to him.

Megumi swallowed. "Because…" His voice wavered. "It's just hard for me. I care about you, and I'm afraid that something's gonna happen that's gonna change our relationship."

"Change our--?"

"You almost kissed me today, Gojo." Megumi threw out his accusation before he could stop himself.

Gojo’s expression shifted—softened.

Megumi forced himself to keep talking, before Gojo could say something dangerous.

"I care about you, okay? And I don’t want to mess that up."

Technically true.

But not the whole truth.

Because the whole truth would be admitting that it wasn’t just about their friendship. It wasn’t just about keeping things from getting awkward.

It was about the way Gojo made his heart race without even trying.

Gojo was quiet for a long moment.

Then, finally, he sighed.

He stepped back.

And Megumi could breathe again.

"Okay," Gojo murmured.

Megumi’s chest ached.

But he didn’t let it show.

Instead, he turned away, picking up his phone again. "Go."

For once, Gojo listened.

But as the door clicked shut behind him, Megumi knew this wasn’t over.

Because Gojo wasn’t an idiot.

And Megumi had just given him way too much to think about.

*

Midnight came too soon.

Megumi rubbed the lingering fatigue from his eyes as he and Gojo made their way toward Nobara’s cabin, the air outside thick and humid, the quiet of the night disturbed only by the occasional rustling of the trees.

Inside the cabin, Nobara and Yuji were already waiting.

Yuji was sitting on the bed, lacing up his shoes, dressed in all black—a rare sight, considering his usual bright, friendly appearance.

Gojo barely stepped inside before announcing his plan.

“I’m taking Yuji with me,” he said simply. “No one else.”

Megumi immediately stiffened beside him.

“The less people we bring, the easier it is to sneak around,” Gojo explained, casually stretching his arms behind his head. “Two people are easier to hide than four.”

Nobara let out a frustrated sigh, already looking like she wanted to argue. “That’s bullshit. What if something happens?”

Gojo flashed her a grin, completely unfazed. “Then I’ll call you.”

Nobara scoffed. “Yeah, right. You and I both know damn well you’re not gonna do that.”

Gojo’s grin widened. "Aw. You’re learning.”

Megumi folded his arms across his chest. “I’m coming too.”

Gojo shut that down immediately.

“I think you could use a break.” His voice was lighter than usual, but there was a finality to it that left no room for argument.

Megumi clenched his jaw. “I’m fine,” he muttered.

Gojo simply raised an eyebrow, unconvinced.

Yuji, seemingly oblivious to the underlying tension, finished tying his shoes, standing up with an eager grin.

“Alright! Ready to go.”

Nobara rolled her eyes before turning on her heel, muttering something about not being able to look at his stupid pink hair in the middle of a stealth mission.

She returned a moment later, holding a black beanie, which she promptly shoved onto Yuji’s head.

“There,” she said, satisfied. “Now you’re at least 10% less noticeable.”

Yuji grinned at her. "You're the best."

“Shut up.”

As Nobara busied herself adjusting the beanie on Yuji, Gojo used the opportunity to step a little closer to Megumi.

His voice was quieter now, meant for only Megumi to hear.

“I’ll be right back,” he promised, the seriousness in his tone catching Megumi off guard. “You’re safer here, y'know.”

Megumi hated how warm that made him feel.

So he rolled his eyes, brushing it off. “I didn’t ask you to worry about me.”

Gojo simply smirked, unfazed as always.

“Too bad,” he said. “I’m doing it anyway.”

*

Dodging camp counselors with flashlights was annoying but not difficult.

Gojo and Yuji moved quickly and silently, their steps careful as they slipped between the thick trees, avoiding open spaces as they made their way toward the lake.

The only sound was the occasional crickets chirping and the distant lapping of water against the shore.

Yuji was focused on the mission, his eyes sharp and alert.

Gojo, however, had something else on his mind.

“Alright,” he muttered, breaking the silence as they crouched behind a fallen log. “Talk.”

"Oh, uh..." Yuji blinked. “About what?"

Gojo gave him a pointed look.

“You and Nobara know something about Megumi,” he said. “And I want to know what it is.”

Yuji stiffened slightly, clearly caught off guard.

“I—” Yuji hesitated. “I don’t think I should—”

“Yuji.” Gojo’s voice dropped just slightly, not a Command, but close. “Please. I just need to know that he's okay."

Yuji’s shoulders slumped, looking guilty. “He’s fine, I swear.”

“Then why does it feel like I’m pissing him off every time I breathe?”

Yuji winced. “He’s not mad at you, really. It’s just… Difficult to be without suppressants for a week. I think it's throwing him off a little, making his feelings more exaggerated and all that."

Gojo’s playful demeanor faded completely.

Yuji glanced at him before explaining, his voice quieter now.

“It’s scary,” he admitted. “Knowing that any dom could boss you around, and there’s nothing you can do about it.” He shrugged. “It’s just… vulnerable.”

Gojo was silent for a moment, taking that in.

He understood. He’d seen how the system worked.

But this was Megumi. The strongest, most stubborn person he knew.

And for the first time, Gojo realized how much Megumi must be struggling. And how much of an asshole he'd been for not taking that into consideration.

“I think that’s all I’m gonna say,” Yuji said with a sheepish look on his face.

Gojo narrowed his eyes. "So there's more?"

Yuji just scratched the back of his head. “It’s not my secret to tell.”

Gojo exhaled sharply.

He could tell Yuji was being genuine, and now wasn’t the time to press.

So instead, he sighed, shaking his head. “Unfortunately, until you and Megumi find a partner to pair with and get your Marks, that’s just how it’ll always be.”

Yuji hummed. “Or we’ll just be on suppressants our whole lives.”

Gojo didn’t like that idea much either.

Before he could say anything else, Yuji suddenly tensed, his sharp gaze snapping forward.

“Shh.”

Gojo immediately went silent, crouching lower behind the fallen log.

Ahead of them, through the trees, near the water’s edge—

The redhead couple was standing in the shadows, talking to another pair.

Gojo and Yuji inched closer, staying low.

They could only catch fragments of the conversation, but what they heard was strange.

“…Tomorrow, at the event.”

“…We’ll find more people willing to participate…”

“…It’s time for our project to grow.”

Gojo and Yuji exchanged a glance.

They had no idea what that meant.

*

The cabin was quiet, save for the occasional chirping of crickets outside and the faint glow of Nobara’s phone screen illuminating her face in the dim light.

Megumi sat beside her on the couch, his head buried in his hands, fingers gripping his hair as though that alone would be enough to silence the war inside his head.

Nobara glanced at him from the corner of her eye.

He hadn’t spoken in over ten minutes.

With a soft sigh, she scooted a little closer, placing a firm but careful hand on his back.

“…Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked, her voice softer than usual.

Megumi nodded once, but said nothing.

Nobara hummed, unconvinced.

After a long pause, she sighed dramatically, throwing herself back against the couch. “You know, you could just come clean and tell Gojo the truth.”

Megumi let out a sharp scoff, finally lifting his head to glare at her.

“Oh, wow,” he said flatly. “Thank you so much for that groundbreaking idea."

Nobara scoffed right back, narrowing her eyes. “You’re an idiot. An emotionally constipated idiot.”

Megumi just grumbled, rubbing his face like this entire conversation was physically painful.

The silence stretched again, tense and heavy.

Then—Nobara suddenly jumped up, gasping.

“Shit—” she muttered, staring at her phone.

Megumi immediately tensed.

“What?” he demanded, already on his feet before he even knew why.

“It’s Yuji—he just texted me,” she said quickly. “Something’s wrong. Gojo’s hurt.”

Megumi’s heart dropped.

His stomach twisted so violently he felt physically sick as he stepped toward her. “What? What happened? Where are they?”

Nobara looked up at him, expression unreadable.

Then, with a slow, pointed look, she said, “You would be absolutely devastated if something happened to him. So why can't you just tell him how you feel? Life is way too short."

Megumi’s stomach twisted even worse.

“Why are you so afraid of it?” she asked softly. “Gojo has a big heart under all that dumb exterior.”

Megumi froze—and then he shoved her.

Not hard, but enough.

“Don’t scare me like that, you asshole.” His voice was sharper than he intended, breath uneven, his pulse still racing.

Nobara barely stumbled back, her own irritation flaring as she shoved him right back.

“Then stop being so stupid!” she snapped. “You think I don’t see the way you two care about each other? It’s the biggest waste of time—”

Megumi was exhausted.

Too exhausted for this conversation, too exhausted to keep up the act, too exhausted to pretend like every moment near Gojo wasn’t a damn war inside his chest.

“Shut up,” he snapped, his voice breaking slightly. “Just shut up about shit you don’t know about.”

Nobara glared at him, but didn’t back down.

“This secret is tearing you up from the inside out,” she said. “And it’s not worth it.”

Before Megumi could respond, the door swung open.

Yuji and Gojo stepped inside, both looking perfectly fine.

Yuji blinked at them, taking in the sheer tension in the room.

“Uh…” He tilted his head. “Are you guys about to fight?”

Megumi didn’t even acknowledge him.

He spun around, grabbed Gojo’s wrist, and stormed out of the cabin.

Gojo blinked as he was dragged along, only barely managing a quick glance at Yuji and Nobara before disappearing out the door.

Yuji stared after them for a second.

Then he turned to Nobara.

“…Was that about what I think it was about?”

*

The moment the cabin door shut behind them, Megumi let go of Gojo’s wrist.

His hands curled into fists, his chest tight, his head spinning.

Gojo looked mildly intrigued, crossing his arms loosely over his chest. "Hello to you too."

Megumi let out a harsh exhale, running a hand through his hair.

“It’s stupid,” he muttered, turning away from him. “It’s just a stupid crush.”

Gojo’s expression didn’t change.

Megumi swallowed hard, staring at the floor.

“It doesn’t mean anything,” he continued. “And I swear I’m doing everything I can to make it go away.”

His voice cracked slightly, but he didn’t stop.

“I don’t want you to treat me differently,” he said. “I don’t want you to think this is some big deal. And if it makes you uncomfortable, I—”

Gojo started smiling in the middle of his sentence.

Megumi immediately stopped talking.

His pulse jumped, his irritation spiking.

His heart hurt.

“…Are you seriously making fun of me right now?”

Gojo’s grin only widened.

Megumi saw red.

“Wipe that dumbass look off your face before I—”

Before he could finish his sentence, Gojo walked forward.

Megumi barely had time to react before he was wrapped in a firm, solid hug.

The air left his lungs.

Gojo held him tightly, one arm wrapped around his shoulders, the other hand resting firmly on the back of his head.

And for a moment, Megumi just stood there, completely frozen.

“…You idiot,” Gojo murmured, his voice warmer than Megumi had ever heard it.

His grip didn’t loosen.

His chin rested lightly on top of Megumi’s head.

“Everything’s okay,” Gojo murmured, soothing and gentle, like he was speaking to a wild animal. "Just relax."

Megumi swallowed hard, his hands still frozen at his sides.

Gojo gave him one final squeeze before pulling back just enough to look down at him.

And that’s when Megumi saw it.

It wasn’t pity on Gojo’s face.

It wasn’t awkwardness or discomfort.

He looked... Glad.

***

Chapter Text

The morning light streamed softly through the windows of Gojo and Megumi’s cabin, casting warm golden streaks along the wooden floor.

Gojo was in the shower, humming something off-key and ridiculous, which meant Megumi had about fifteen minutes of peace before his morning would become dramatically Gojo-flavored.

So, he took the opportunity to sneak out.

*

The front door wasn’t locked.

Megumi sighed as he pushed it open, stepping inside. “Yuji, you need to start locking your damn door.”

Yuji, standing in the kitchen, barefoot in sweatpants and a tank top, glanced up from his phone, blinking at him. "Oh, hi."

Then, without hesitation, he rushed forward and hugged him.

Megumi barely had time to process it before Yuji was wrapping his arms around him, holding him tight.

“I hope everything’s okay,” Yuji murmured, voice quieter than usual. “You just stormed out of here last night, and I was worried.”

Megumi exhaled slowly, his shoulders finally relaxing as he returned the hug, just for a second.

Yuji was always so gentle on the inside. And Megumi—against his better judgment—always had a soft spot for him.

“I’m fine,” Megumi said, pulling back.

Yuji tilted his head, studying him carefully. “You sure?”

Megumi hesitated for a second.

Then, softer, he muttered, “I actually… confessed to Gojo last night.”

“Wait, what?” Yuji gasped. "You told him you love him?"

Megumi immediately held up a hand. “Hell no. It wasn’t dramatic or anything. I just—I told him I had a stupid crush on him. That’s it.”

Yuji stared at him, wide-eyed. “And? What happened?"

Megumi exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “And… He didn’t insult me or throw me out.”

Yuji rolled his eyes so hard it looked painful.

“As if Gojo would ever do that,” he muttered. “To any of us. But especially not to you.”

Megumi ignored that. “He just… Held me for a while. Then he asked for some time to think about it.”

Yuji’s excitement dimmed slightly, but his expression stayed hopeful.

“That’s not a no,” Yuji said, nudging him lightly. “So, you’re optimistic?”

Megumi hesitated, then nodded once. “Yeah. I guess I am."

Yuji grinned. Megumi was almost never optimistic.

Then—a new voice entered the conversation.

“Well, well, well,” Nobara drawled, stepping further into the room. “I guess I won't say ‘I told you so’—”

Megumi immediately rolled his eyes.

“—but I will accept a ‘thank you,’” she finished, smirking.

Megumi pointedly did not respond.

Yuji, however, laughed under his breath.

Megumi turned back to him, about to add something else—

But before he could, the front door suddenly burst open.

Yuji reacted on pure instinct, stepping in front of Megumi, shoving him backward without thinking.

It turned out that the threat was just Gojo, looking completely frazzled.

His hair was still soaking wet, and he only wore a pair of sweatpants, his chest still glistening with water.

Gojo put a hand over his heart, looking at Megumi like he had just given him a heart attack.

“Don’t scare me like that!” Gojo whined dramatically. “I got out of the shower and you were gone, and I thought—I dunno, something horrible."

Nobara, unimpressed, walked straight over to him and wagged a finger in his face. “Listen up,” she said, voice sharp and firm. “I know you think you're hot shit, but if you don’t take good care of Gumi, and I mean the best care, I will not hesitate to kick your ass.”

Gojo blinked at her.

Then, very seriously, he nodded. “…Understood.”

Yuji tried very hard not to laugh at Nobara's behavior, so instead he just grinned. "So does that mean you two are officially dating?"

Gojo glanced just beyond Yuji at Megumi, who looked horrified at this line of questioning. "You know, Yu... I'm not sure yet."

Megumi just groaned, covering his face with one hand. "You two are so embarrassing."

*

The morning air was cool and crisp as the group made their way toward the main dining hall cabin, the path still slightly damp from the early morning dew.

Megumi walked ahead with Nobara, while Gojo and Yuji trailed lazily behind them.

As soon as they stepped inside, the rich scent of breakfast hit them—fresh bread, and the sweet tang of fruit. But before they could even settle in, they walked right into the middle of an announcement.

A camp counselor stood at the front of the room, her voice carrying over the quiet murmur of early eaters.

“…which is why,” she continued, smiling brightly, “we are so thrilled to invite everyone to this evening’s Collared Event!”

Megumi’s stomach immediately twisted. That didn't sound promising.

They found seats quickly, not wanting to linger too long and risk drawing attention.

Nobara settled across from them, while Gojo sat between Yuji and Megumi, his arms thrown lazily around their shoulders.

Their plates were set in front of them, but none of them touched their food right away.

At the front of the hall, the announcement continued.

“We believe that this retreat is an opportunity for subs to shine,” the counselor said warmly. “To showcase the progress they’ve made, to celebrate their dedication to their doms. The event tonight will be a chance to show off all the hard work they’ve put in. And obviously, collars are mandatory.”

Megumi felt Gojo’s arm tighten slightly around him.

He didn’t say anything.

But he didn’t need to.

Megumi could feel the tension radiating off of him.

Across the table, Nobara—completely ignoring the announcement—reached over and plucked a handful of grapes from Gojo’s plate before popping one into her mouth.

Gojo didn’t react, still watching Megumi carefully.

After a few moments, he finally leaned down, his breath warm against Megumi’s ear.

“You gonna be okay if we go to that tonight?”

Megumi’s eyebrow lifted slightly.

Gojo nodded, because he understood. “I know. But me and Yuji overheard the redhead couple talking last night.”

That got Megumi’s attention.

Gojo kept his voice low and casual, as if he were simply making conversation.

“Whatever they’re planning,” he murmured, “it’s happening at that event.”

Megumi inhaled slowly, trying to mask his reaction.

A part of him wanted to say no.

He wanted to tell Gojo that he wasn’t wearing that stupid collar, that he wasn’t about to parade around like some obedient sub just to appease these people.

But this wasn’t about his pride or his comfort anymore.

This was about the mission. It was about his team.

He wasn't going to ruin the mission for Nobara and Yuji just because he couldn't handle it.

So instead of arguing, he simply let out a quiet sigh and picked up his fork.

He didn’t respond.

But he didn’t need to.

Gojo gave Megumi’s shoulder a squeeze, then finally let go.

*

The cabin was quiet, save for the soft sound of fabric rustling as Megumi finished adjusting his button-up shirt in the mirror.

He’d gone with something simple, dark navy with sleeves rolled up to his elbows, tucked neatly into his black slacks. He looked put together, but more importantly—he looked in control.

At least, that’s what he wanted to convince himself of.

A knock sounded at the bedroom door before it swung open, Gojo stepping inside without waiting for an answer.

“So,” Gojo said, grinning as he stepped fully into the room. “What do you think?"

Megumi barely glanced at him. "Yeah, you look nice."

He turned back toward the mirror, fixing the last button.

Gojo whined dramatically behind him. “Just nice? I was hoping for something a little more enthusiastic.”

Megumi rolled his eyes. “You’ll survive.”

Gojo let out an exaggerated sigh, but didn’t argue.

Instead, he watched Megumi for a moment, his gaze softer than usual.

Megumi, oblivious, was focused on himself, making one last adjustment to his collar.

Then, he turned fully—and that’s when he saw it.

The black and white collar in Gojo’s hands.

Megumi froze.

His stomach tightened, his breath hitched, and for a brief, fleeting second, his instincts screamed at him to refuse.

But Gojo—predictably perceptive—must have caught the hesitation, because he held it out with an apologetic expression.

“If it gets too uncomfortable tonight,” Gojo said softly, “we can just leave. You call the shots.”

"You're the dom, idiot."

"I know. But you're in charge, Megs. I trust you, and I want you to feel safe with me."

Megumi exhaled slowly, forcing himself to nod.

He stepped forward, taking the collar in his hands.

It felt lighter than he expected, but heavier at the same time.

The leather was soft, barely more than a thin strap with a subtle silver clasp—not meant to be anything overly obtrusive. But still, it meant something.

For a moment, he just stared at it.

Then, before he could lose his nerve, he said, "Can you..?"

Gojo stepped forward, understanding immediately.

The air between them shifted.

Megumi swallowed harshly as Gojo’s hands gently slid the collar around his neck, fingers brushing against his skin as he hooked the clasp in place.

The moment was intimate, and Megumi couldn’t look away.

Gojo was focused, his usual easygoing demeanor nowhere to be found.

His fingers were steady, but there was a certain carefulness to his movements, like he knew exactly how much trust this moment required.

The collar clicked into place.

Gojo’s hand lingered, his fingers ghosting down the center of Megumi’s chest, his touch light and fleeting.

Megumi’s breath hitched.

He didn’t know if Gojo realized what he was doing—if the way his fingers slid lower for just a second was deliberate, or just an accident.

But Megumi felt it.

God, he felt it.

Gojo finally pulled back just enough to look at him properly.

“You look beautiful,” he murmured.

Megumi stared up at him, feeling like he was teetering on the edge of something huge and dangerous.

Gojo’s lips quirked up slightly, his voice quieter now.

“I promise it won’t be on for long, okay? And I meant what I said. The instant you feel uncomfortable, or can't stand it anymore, we're out of there. Okay?"

Megumi nodded, immediately reaching up to hook his finger into the collar, as if he could keep it from touching his skin somehow.

"Okay." Megumi wanted to make sure that Gojo knew. "I feel safe with you, y'know. You don't have to tell me all this."

"Sure I do. I recently came to terms with all the difficulties that subs face, and I... I just wanted to make sure that you know that I'm doing my best to look out for you."

"Oh. That's... Nice of you."

"I'm still learning, but... I'm trying."

Megumi barely heard him.

His instincts were screaming at him, telling him that this felt right, that this should be real, that he wanted this more than anything.

But Gojo had asked for time.

And Megumi was going to give it to him.

Even if it killed him.

*

The night air was cool and heavy, carrying the scent of the lake as the group walked toward the bonfire site.

The rhythmic sound of their footsteps over packed dirt and scattered leaves filled the quiet between them.

Distant voices and the soft crackle of flames reached their ears, signaling the growing crowd at the lakeshore.

The closer they got, the more the retreat felt like a performance. Submissives seated at their doms’ feet, hands resting on knees, heads tilted up in devotion.

Others walked side by side, their bodies angled slightly toward the doms, as if waiting for approval with each step.

It made Megumi feel more anxious than he'd ever felt in his life.

It made the damn collar around his neck feel heavier.

His fingers wouldn’t stop twitching toward it, adjusting, pulling, shifting—anything to make it feel less suffocating.

It wasn’t tight. It wasn’t even heavy.

But it was there.

A constant reminder of what it meant.

And he hated it.

Beside him, Nobara watched him silently, arms swinging lightly at her sides as she took in his stiff posture and obsessive fiddling.

“You okay?” she asked, her voice calm but knowing.

Megumi brushed her off immediately.

“I’m fine.”

Nobara narrowed her eyes, but after a beat, she shrugged. “Alright. If you say so.”

She didn’t believe him.

But she also knew that pushing him too hard would make him shut down completely.

So she let it go.

For now.

The group continued walking until, suddenly—Gojo stopped. "Hang on a sec."

His hand shot out, grabbing Yuji’s upper arm gently and pulling him to a halt.

Yuji blinked in confusion.

Gojo ducked his head down, fingers unclasping Yuji’s collar with practiced ease before flipping it around and fastening it back in place.

“You had it upside down,” Gojo murmured, his tone fond.

Yuji laughed at himself, rubbing the back of his neck. “Oh sorry."

He tried to brush it off, but Megumi caught it immediately—the way Yuji’s shoulders tensed just slightly, the way his fingers gripped the hem of his shirt a little tighter.

And, of course, Gojo caught it too.

His voice softened, something almost gentle in his usual easygoing tone.

“You alright?”

Yuji hesitated.

Then, finally, he exhaled quietly and admitted, “I hate it.”

Gojo nodded like he already knew. “Yeah,” he hummed. “I figured.”

Yuji glanced at him, then offered a small, tired smile. “But I wanna put on a brave face for Fushi.”

Gojo stared at him. "You don't have to do that."

Yuji shrugged, still looking at Gojo. “If he sees that I’m handling it okay, maybe he’ll know that it’s all gonna be fine.”

Gojo smiled, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder.

“You’re a good friend, Yu.”

Yuji beamed at the praise, his usual energy flickering back into place. “I try.”

Gojo chuckled, a warm, easy laugh that sent a sharp pang of irritation through Megumi’s chest.

It was a casual moment. A friendly, comfortable moment between two people who cared about each other.

And for some reason, Megumi hated it.

Because he wanted to be the only one Gojo looked at like that.

He wanted to be the only one Gojo reassured so easily.

He wanted to be the only one Gojo touched without hesitation.

Megumi’s stomach twisted violently as Gojo gave Yuji’s collar one last pat, ruffling his hair before grinning down at him.

Yuji flashed him another smile. "Thanks. You're always so nice to me."

“Good thing you're not my sub,” Gojo teased. “I’d spoil you rotten.”

Yuji snickered. “With what? Annoying dad jokes?”

“Excuse you,” Gojo huffed dramatically. “I would be the best dom. You’d get all the sweets you want. Just ask Meggie."

“Oh, well in that case,” Yuji teased, “maybe I should switch.”

“Don’t you dare,” Nobara snapped. “You brat. Am I not good enough for you?"

Yuji laughed, but Megumi wasn’t amused.

Gojo noticed the expression on his face, and waved a hand at Nobara. "You can keep your bubblegum boy, me and Megumi are gonna die happy together. Right, Megs?"

Megumi nodded once, but didn't say anything.

Something ugly was burning in his chest, curling around his ribs like a vice.

Because Gojo wasn't his.

No matter how badly Megumi wanted him to be.

***

Chapter Text

The bonfire glowed against the backdrop of the dark lake, flames licking toward the sky as people gathered around, talking in low, hushed tones.

The beach was lined with lanterns, casting flickering light across the sand, but the water beyond it was pitch black, stretching into the distance like an endless abyss.

As they arrived, Gojo’s voice was quiet but firm, just loud enough for the group to hear over the murmur of the crowd.

“Alright,” he said. “Keep an eye out for that redheaded couple.”

He glanced around, scanning the crowd for any sign of them, but so far, they were nowhere in sight.

“Until we spot them,” Gojo continued, lowering his sunglasses slightly, “mingle. Ask questions. Earn trust. The more people like you, the more likely we are to hear something useful.”

Yuji swallowed thickly, glancing around at the subs who were already kneeling in the sand, heads bowed at their doms’ feet.

It made his stomach twist.

Without thinking, he clung to Nobara’s upper arm, his fingers digging into her jacket sleeve as they walked.

Nobara raised an eyebrow, shooting him a side glance. “You good?”

“Yeah,” Yuji muttered. “Just... Y’know. Trying to process.”

Nobara snorted but patted his hand reassuringly.

They drifted into the crowd, striking up casual conversations—introducing themselves, sharing lighthearted comments, acting like they belonged.

But while Yuji and Nobara were focused on the social aspect, Gojo was focused on Megumi.

Megumi, standing rigid beside him, was getting complimented left and right.

“How stunning.”

“What a beauty.”

“You’re so lucky,” a dom murmured to Gojo, eyes scanning Megumi appreciatively.

Gojo hoped it would make Megumi feel better.

But it was doing the opposite.

Megumi’s shoulders tightened further with every passing minute, and his jaw clenched.

Gojo’s patience eventually snapped. He hated to see Megumi so upset.

Without warning, he grabbed Megumi’s hand, interlacing their fingers, and gently pulled him away from the main gathering.

They made their way toward the water’s edge, where the waves lapped gently at the shore, rhythmic and endless.

Gojo let out a slow breath, gazing at the lake.

“What a weird night,” he murmured, mostly to himself.

Megumi’s hand tightened in his.

But he said nothing.

He just stood there, shoulders tight, breath shallow, just trying to get through this day.

Gojo knew he needed to get Megumi’s attention to try to calm him down.

So, slowly, he turned toward him.

Then, with deliberate care, he reached out and lifted Megumi’s chin with his fingertips—just enough to force him to look up.

Megumi’s breath hitched.

Gojo cupped his face, both hands cradling his jaw gently, thumbs brushing against his cheekbones.

“Hey, look at me,” Gojo murmured, voice low and soothing. “I know we can't exactly whip out our techniques in front of these people, but... You're not helpless. You're talented, and strong. Everything’s going to be okay.”

Their eyes met.

Megumi’s hands lifted on instinct, gripping Gojo’s waist lightly—as if needing something to hold onto.

“This is just another mission, Megs. And I’ve got your back. No matter what.”

His thumbs rubbed light circles against Megumi's skin.

Megumi let out a slow, shaky exhale. "I know."

Gojo’s gaze softened. “I’d protect you with everything I have,” he added, voice barely above a whisper. "You know that too. Just try to relax, okay?"

Megumi nodded slowly, his shoulders visibly relaxing.

Gojo’s smile widened.

And before Megumi could process it, Gojo leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead.

Megumi’s eyes slipped shut. He hated how much he loved it—hated how easy it was to fall apart under Gojo’s touch.

Then, Gojo pulled back slightly, brushing a hand through Megumi’s hair.

“…You know what we need?” Gojo murmured.

Megumi’s eyes fluttered open. “What?”

“A safeword.”

Megumi blinked. "We're not that close."

"Oh hush. I'm serious." Gojo smiled. “If things get bad—or if you get uncomfortable at any time—you say the word, and I’ll get you out of there.”

"Okay..." Megumi hesitated. “Like what?”

Gojo tilted his head, grinning. “Like, um... Jumanji.”

Megumi scoffed, amusement flickering in his expression.

“In the movie, when they say ‘Jumanji,’ everyone goes home. Seemed fitting.” Gojo paused, staring at Megumi while he was completely silent. "Oh come on. That's clever, give me some credit."

Megumi rolled his eyes, but his lips twitched. “I don’t think I can say that casually.”

Gojo chuckled, fingers threading gently through Megumi’s hair, slow and calming.

“Alright, you pick one then,” Gojo murmured, voice softer now. “Something that reminds you of me.”

His fingers tightened on Gojo’s waist, brain short-circuiting under the weight of his stare.

Finally, he tilted his head, voice playful for the first time that night.

“…Torment.”

Gojo scoffed loudly. “Funny."

Megumi huffed a quiet laugh, and then—with more sincerity this time—he murmured, “Starlight.”

Gojo stilled, as he considered it.

And then he nodded. “Starlight it is.”

They stood there for a moment, just looking at each other.

And Megumi realized, with a terrifying certainty, that Gojo’s hands were still holding his face.

And Megumi’s own hands were still gripping Gojo’s waist, unwilling to let go.

The silence between them was heavy—too much, too close.

But before either of them could move, a voice cut through the moment.

“Okay, sorry to interrupt.”

Megumi flinched, turning to find Nobara standing a few feet away.

He hadn’t even heard her approach.

“The meeting is starting soon,” she added, arms crossed, expression pointedly unimpressed.

She glanced between the two of them, then let out a mock sigh.

“Seriously, do I need to start throwing water on you guys?”

Megumi’s entire face burned.

Gojo, meanwhile, just grinned. “If you're jealous, just say so."

*

The bonfire flickered, casting warm, golden light across the sand as the group made their way toward the circle of blankets laid out by the camp staff.

The air was heavy with smoke and lake mist, blending into the low hum of chatter from the other guests.

Nobara strode forward confidently, setting her sights on one of the larger blankets near the center.

Without hesitation, she dropped onto it and gestured sharply for the rest of the group to follow.

“Sit. All of you.”

Gojo chuckled but obliged, sinking down beside her, stretching out comfortably.

Yuji plopped down next to Gojo, adjusting his shirt slightly before reaching for one of the champagne glasses being passed around by a camp counselor.

Megumi, however, hesitated.

He wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was the people watching them. Maybe it was the lingering tension in his chest from earlier.

Or maybe it was just the collar pressing lightly against his throat, a physical reminder of how out of place he felt.

Before he could overthink it, Gojo reached up and gently took his wrist, tugging him down to sit between Gojo's legs so Megumi could lean back against his chest.

Megumi tensed at first, but Gojo’s arms wrapped loosely around his waist, his body warm and solid behind him.

Gojo’s voice was barely a murmur, meant just for him. “Just relax, Megs. I’ve got you.”

Megumi let out a slow breath, settling slightly.

He didn't know why Gojo was suddenly so physically affectionate, but he didn't want to argue. He didn't want to blow their cover.

And if he was honest, he didn't hate it.

A few feet away, one of the camp counselors stepped forward, clasping his hands together with a wide, artificially warm smile.

“Tonight,” he announced, “we celebrate the beauty of submission and obedience.”

Megumi felt Gojo’s hold tighten ever so slightly.

Another counselor stepped forward, picking out four volunteers—subs who rose from their spots and stepped into the center of the circle.

They introduced themselves, and then were asked to do something.

Yuji, who had been focused on his champagne, glanced up at the movement—

And then nearly choked on his drink.

Because the camp counselor was giving them Commands.

In front of everyone. 

As if showing them off.

Megumi felt a cold weight settle in his stomach as he watched.

One by one, the subs were instructed to kneel, bow, lift their chins, hold their hands behind their backs—all of it automatic, all of it met with soft, polite claps from the doms sitting around them.

Megumi swallowed hard.

It was like watching a performance.

Like puppets on strings, following instructions for nothing more than applause.

The counselor smiled, lifting his arms. “Let’s give them another round of applause!”

More clapping. More murmurs of approval.

And then—

“Let’s call up another group, shall we?”

The counselor turned toward the crowd—

And waved his hand toward Megumi and Yuji.

Megumi’s stomach dropped.

For a moment, he froze, instincts screaming at him to stay seated, to refuse, to run—

But there were too many eyes on him.

Too many expectations.

A disobedient sub was a bad sub.

Megumi could hear Gojo shift behind him, feel the warmth of his breath against his ear as he whispered to him.

Gojo said, “you’re okay. You’re not in danger. You’ve got this.”

Megumi exhaled slowly, and then—he stood.

Yuji stood too, but not before Nobara grabbed his wrist and pulled him close.

Her voice was low, sharp.

“Don’t tell them your real name. Just in case.”

Yuji nodded quickly, stepping forward beside Megumi and the other two volunteers.

They stood in the middle of the circle, surrounded by doms watching expectantly.

The counselor smiled, looking at them one by one.

“And what is your name?”

Yuji, always quick to adapt, gave a nervous wave and said, “Yuji Kugisaki.”

Megumi almost snorted.

The counselor nodded. “Very good, Yuji. Now—kneel.”

Yuji dropped onto the sand immediately, unable to resist the Command.

His cheeks flushed pink as the doms clapped for him.

He shifted uncomfortably, but before he could try to stand, he felt a hand gently brush against his shoulder.

Megumi was reminding him. Warning him.

Yuji swallowed hard and forced himself to stay put until he was told otherwise.

The counselor gave a pleased smile. “Very good. You may stand.”

Yuji obeyed, bowing slightly to the applauding doms although his discomfort was all over his face. 

He was trying not to be judgmental. He knew that many people enjoyed this lifestyle, and there was nothing wrong with it. It just... Wasn't his taste.

Megumi was next, and he kept his gaze locked on Gojo, unwilling to look anywhere else.

The counselor turned to him, nodding approvingly. “And your name?”

Megumi’s mouth felt dry. “Megumi Gojo.”

Gojo’s breath hitched across from him, practically having a staring contest with Megumi as this all took place.

But Megumi didn’t react. 

The counselor smiled, before dropping his voice into his Commanding tone. “Wonderful. Now, Megumi—show us your stomach.”

Megumi’s body moved before his brain could protest.

His fingers went to the hem of his shirt, lifting it just enough to expose the soft skin of his stomach.

The doms clapped, and Megumi shut his eyes.

The moment stretched, feeling endless—

And then, finally—

“You may drop it.”

Megumi let his shirt fall back into place.

He stepped away immediately, exhaling sharply as he and Yuji returned to their spots on the blanket.

Megumi sat back down in front of Gojo, but felt too uncomfortable to look him in the eye. 

Without hesitation, Gojo reached for him.

He wrapped his arms around Megumi’s waist, pulling him close, so he could lean forward and whisper against his ear.

“You did great. Are you okay?"

Megumi nodded once, and let himself sink into Gojo’s hold, his body relaxing slightly against the warmth of his chest. 

Gojo’s breath tickled his skin. “Just take a deep breath. Everything is okay."

Megumi nodded again.

Because as long as Gojo was there, it would be.

For a moment, they just sat there, pressed together, ignoring the next round of subs that got up in front of the group.

Then, Megumi leaned back slightly more, tilting his head just enough to whisper toward Gojo.

Gojo shifted, his chin resting on Megumi’s shoulder to listen.

“I spotted the redheaded couple.” Megumi mumbled.

Gojo’s body tensed instantly, and he plucked his glasses off of his face. His arm tightened slightly around Megumi’s waist.

“Where?” he murmured.

Megumi’s eyes flicked toward the edge of the forest.

Standing there, half-hidden in the shadows, the redheaded couple was watching.

But they weren’t sitting.

They weren’t clapping.

They weren’t part of the gathering.

They were waiting for something.

*

The gathering at the bonfire finally began to disperse, the doms and subs moving in small groups, their laughter and murmured conversations carrying through the cool night air.

The group blended in as they followed the trail back through the woods, walking among the other retreat guests toward the cabins lined up deeper in the trees.

Megumi kept his eyes forward, his heartbeat still unsteady from what had happened earlier.

The feeling of obedience being forced out of him—the sound of applause for something he had no control over—it still clung to his skin like a phantom touch.

Beside him, Gojo and Nobara kept scanning the woods, searching for any sign of the redheaded couple.

But they were nowhere in sight.

Nobara leaned in slightly, voice low enough for only their group to hear.

“We can’t sneak off now,” she muttered. “Too many people around.”

Gojo hummed in agreement, his tone calm, but sharp underneath.

“We’ll come back later,” he murmured. “After curfew.”

*

By the time they reached Gojo and Megumi’s cabin, the night was thick and heavy, pressing down around them as the last few guests trickled inside their own cabins to avoid breaking curfew.

Gojo, as casually as ever, held the door open, ushering them inside. “Alright, sneaky sneaky.” He grinned. “Everybody in.”

Nobara rolled her eyes, but slipped inside first, Yuji and Megumi following close behind.

Once they were all in, Gojo shut the door behind them, moving around the cabin to close the curtains, making sure no one could see or hear them.

Nobara, already sitting down on the couch, wasted no time speaking her mind.

“That whole event was so messed up,” she muttered, crossing her arms. “I mean, seriously—showing off subs like that? Especially with you, Meg. So creepy.”

Megumi sat beside her, Yuji dropping onto the couch next to him, their shoulders brushing.

Yuji nodded in agreement with her. "Definitely."

Nobara continued, her expression sharp. “It’s one thing to have weird traditions, but the fact that they were applauding them—like it’s some sort of performance instead of, you know, actual control.” She scoffed, shaking her head. “It was disturbing.”

Yuji nodded, his usual brightness dimmed with thoughtfulness.

“It was like… They didn’t care that some of us looked uncomfortable,” Yuji added. “The subs here are just... Entertainment value."

Gojo let out a slow breath, pulling one of his blindfolds from his pocket and sliding it over his eyes.

Megumi watched as his entire body language shifted.

The moment the blindfold was in place, Gojo exhaled deeply, rolling his shoulders back like he could finally let go of whatever mask he’d been wearing all night.

Yuji noticed it too. And with that, he suddenly realized—there wasn’t enough room on the couch.

“Oh--My bad.” Yuji quickly jumped up, moving to sit on the floor in front of Nobara, leaning back against her knees.

“Thanks,” Gojo said absently. But before Yuji could settle, Gojo reached out, gently grabbing his arm and guiding him back toward the couch.

Yuji resisted him at first. "It's not--"

Gojo lightly pushed Yuji back into his seat. “You had to go through that weird little obedience game. It's the least I can do."

Yuji hesitated for a second—then shrugged and sat back down.

Gojo, now seated on the coffee table in front of them, exhaled. Then, his hand found Megumi’s knee.

Megumi stiffened slightly at the touch, but didn’t pull away.

Gojo’s expression was unreadable beneath the blindfold.

“You guys okay?” he asked, his voice gentle, but firm.

Yuji nodded quickly, forcing a smile. “Yeah. I mean, it sucked, but… I’m fine.”

Gojo looked to Megumi next.

Megumi met his gaze through the blindfold, still feeling the weight of the night pressing down on him.

“I’m okay.”

Gojo was silent for a beat before he spoke again. “Can I--? Is it okay if I touch your neck?”

Megumi’s breath hitched slightly at the phrasing—but he tried to seem casual. "I guess."

Gojo moved carefully, reaching up to unclip the collar around Megumi’s neck.

The moment it came loose, Megumi exhaled softly, like a weight had been lifted.

Yuji, watching the exchange, reached up and unclipped his own collar, sighing as he set it down beside him.

Megumi, however, didn’t move. He simply stared at Gojo, his eyes flickering over his face as Gojo pulled the collar away.

And before he could stop himself, Megumi’s hand twitched upward, fingers brushing against his own throat—

Almost as if he missed it.

Gojo’s eyes flicked toward him, but he didn’t comment.

Instead, he simply set the collar down on the coffee table, his voice calm.

“After everything you two went through tonight,” Gojo murmured, “maybe we all just need some rest.”

Nobara tossed her arm around Yuji's shoulders and nodded in agreement. “Yeah, we can catch up in the morning and figure out our next steps.”

Yuji stretched his arms over his head, letting out a small yawn. “Sounds like a plan.”

Megumi stayed quiet.

He wasn’t sure if rest was something he could get tonight.

*

The night was too quiet.

Megumi lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, his mind running in circles.

Sleep was impossible.

Because all he could think about was the blindfolded jerk in the front room.

About the way Gojo’s touch lit up his skin like fireworks.

About how his breath caught in his throat every time Gojo walked into a room.

Megumi had never felt like this for anyone before.

And his heart had never felt so full.

He exhaled sharply, running a hand over his face.

This was stupid.

It was reckless and terrifying and so painfully real—and yet, he wanted it.

More than anything.

After a few minutes of internal debate, he climbed out of bed.

He would blame his next set of actions on his sleep deprivation.

Carefully, silently, he stepped out into the living room, guided by the dim light of the moon spilling through the windows.

Gojo was asleep on the couch, his long legs hanging off the armrest, one arm sprawled over his stomach.

His phone was still in his hand, the screen lit up with a half-written text message—likely a mission report he had fallen asleep writing.

Megumi’s chest ached.

He looked so… Soft like this. So unguarded.

A rare moment of peace for someone who carried so much weight on his shoulders.

Without thinking, Megumi knelt down beside the couch, hesitating only for a second before leaning over Gojo’s torso and wrapping his arms around him in a hug.

The response was instantaneous.

Gojo stirred, a soft noise leaving his throat as his arms automatically wrapped around Megumi in return.

His body shifted, sitting up slightly as he murmured, still half-asleep, “Megumi?”

Megumi said nothing at first.

Gojo’s voice sharpened slightly with concern. “You okay?”

Megumi finally looked up, meeting Gojo’s eyes through the half-lowered blindfold.

He swallowed hard. Then, voice barely above a whisper, he asked, "Can you do me a favor?"

"Anything." Came Gojo's instantaneous reply.

Megumi paused for a second to summon the courage to ask. “Will you stay with me tonight?”

Gojo stared at him, blinking the sleep from his eyes. Then, voice still groggy, he said, “Of course.”

Megumi exhaled in relief, his nerves melting away for the moment.

But then Gojo's brows furrowed slightly. “Are you sure?”

Megumi nodded quickly.

“You’re too tall for this stupid couch anyway,” he muttered. Then, softer, “And I guess... I could use a friend."

Gojo’s expression softened.

Without hesitation, he stood, gently placing a hand on Megumi’s lower back to guide him toward the bedroom.

He set his phone on the charger before following Megumi inside, rubbing a hand through his already-messy white hair. 

The mission progress report could wait until tomorrow.

Megumi picked a side of the bed, slipping under the covers as Gojo pulled off his t-shirt, tossing it aside before climbing in beside him.

The moment Gojo’s body hit the mattress, he let out a satisfied sigh. “Okay, yeah. This is way better than the couch.”

Megumi rolled his eyes, staying on his side, as far away as he could.

But Gojo wasn't going to allow that. Megumi had asked for a friend, and that's exactly what Gojo was going to be.

Without hesitation, he rolled onto his side, reaching out and pulling Megumi against him, one arm resting firmly over Megumi’s waist.

Megumi stiffened— But only for a second.

Because it felt good. It felt safe.

And when Gojo tucked his chin lightly against Megumi’s shoulder, Megumi couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto his lips.

He should be uncomfortable. But he wasn’t.

Not with Gojo’s warmth wrapped around him.

Not with Gojo’s presence so close.

Gojo’s fingers drifted upward, tracing lightly along Megumi’s neck, over the faint red lines where the collar had been pressing earlier.

“Sorry about this, Megs,” he murmured.

Megumi shook his head against the pillow. “Don’t be,” he whispered.

Silence settled for a moment.

But Megumi couldn’t take it.

He shifted slightly, rolling onto his back, looking up at Gojo.

“Have you thought any more,” he murmured, “about the… Embarrassing thing I said earlier?”

Gojo was quiet for a second.

Then, very seriously, he said, “Yes. And it's not embarrassing, first of all."

Megumi just stared at him, practically holding his breath to hear what Gojo had to say.

Gojo exhaled, thinking carefully before speaking. “I… Adore you, Megumi,” he admitted. “And I’d do anything for you.”

Megumi’s heart nearly skipped a beat.

“But,” Gojo continued, his voice quieter, “I don't want you to feel like your feelings aren't valid, but... I'm just. I’m not sure a relationship is a good idea.”

Megumi's expression didn’t change, but Gojo could feel the way his body tensed.

Gojo sighed, lifting a hand to gently trace his thumb over Megumi’s cheekbone. “It isn’t about you,” he murmured. "I know everyone says that, but I'm serious."

Megumi looked away.

Gojo continued, “The truth is… I’m not meant to live very long.”

Megumi’s eyes snapped back to him.

Gojo’s lips curled into a sad smile. “I’ve dedicated my life to dangerous things, as you know.” His thumb stroked gently over Megumi’s skin. “And I would hate for you to get too close to me, only for me to—” He hesitated. "Y'know. Only for me to leave, someday."

Megumi’s chest ached.

But he shook his head. “That's a shitty answer, but... I wouldn't mind."

Gojo blinked.

Megumi’s voice was steady, certain. “Even if I only get to be with you for a little while,” Megumi murmured, “it’s better than not getting the chance to be with you at all.”

Gojo stared at him. For once, he looked genuinely caught off guard.

Megumi’s cheeks burned, but he meant it.

Every word.

Gojo asked to clarify. "But... You know what you're signing up for, right? I mean... Doms are dicks. I'm kind of a dick. And I'm clingy, I'm needy, I'd want to kiss you all the time... If we got far enough, you'd have to deal with getting marked by me, and if you think I'm protective now... Just wait."

Megumi shrugged. "Doesn't sound that bad."

They were silent for a long moment.

Then, finally, Gojo let out a soft chuckle. “You really are a brat,” he muttered.

Megumi’s lips twitched into a small smirk.

Gojo sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Alright.”

Megumi tilted his head. “Alright…?”

Gojo grinned down at him, eyes soft but teasing. “Alright,” he repeated. “Let’s try it out.”

Megumi’s breath stilled. "Are you--?"

And before he could process what was happening— Gojo leaned down, pressing their first kiss to his lips.

It was soft, but intentional—not rushed, not fleeting.

And for the first time in a long time, Megumi felt something he hadn’t felt in years.

He felt emotionally full.

***

Chapter Text

Megumi woke up slowly, the warmth around him comforting, steady, safe.

The soft morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a golden glow over the room.

And Gojo was still there.

Megumi’s breath hitched slightly as he took in the sight before him—Gojo’s arm draped lazily around his waist, his face close, breath soft and even against Megumi’s shoulder.

His white hair was a mess, strands sticking in different directions, his blindfold long gone, leaving his sleeping face fully visible.

And even now, first thing in the morning, Gojo was… Beautiful.

Megumi’s chest ached at the sight of him.

Like if he breathed too deeply, this whole thing might vanish.

Like if he moved, he might wake up to find this was all just a dream.

But it wasn’t.

This was real.

Megumi had spent so long convincing himself that this could never happen.

That Gojo was too far away, too unattainable, too much like a force of nature that could never be held down.

But now— Now he was right here.

Without thinking, Megumi leaned in, brushing his lips lightly against Gojo’s, as if making sure he was really there.

The kiss was soft, and Megumi's anxiety made sure that it was brief too.

Megumi was about to pull away, when Gojo suddenly smiled against his lips.

Gojo’s eyes fluttered open, still hazy with sleep, but his grin was lazy and teasing.

“Morning, Megs.”

Megumi jerked back immediately, his face turning red.

“I wasn’t—” He ran a hand through his hair, already fumbling for an excuse. “You were— I thought—”

But before he could finish a sentence, Gojo reached out.

His fingers wrapped around the back of Megumi’s neck, firm but gentle—just enough to guide him back down.

And then Gojo kissed him. Properly, this time.

Megumi’s heart nearly burst.

Gojo was slow, unrushed, his lips moving easily against Megumi’s, like he had all the time in the world. Like this was something natural.

Like this was something he’d wanted for a long time, too.

When he finally pulled back, Gojo smiled, running a lazy hand through his messy hair. "Couldn't even wait for me to wake up before wanting to jump my bones, huh?"

Megumi scowled, flustered, but before he could bite back, Gojo was already climbing out of bed.

Megumi watched as Gojo stretched, his back arching slightly, his muscles rippling under the morning light.

And for once, Megumi let himself fully acknowledge it.

Gojo's broad shoulders, his lean torso, the way the waistband of his sweatpants sat just low enough to be distracting—

Megumi gave himself permission to stare.

Gojo turned toward him, about to say something, but then he caught Megumi looking.

Megumi didn’t look away.

His eyes dragged slowly up Gojo’s torso, taking his damn time, until they finally met Gojo’s.

Gojo raised an eyebrow.

Megumi shrugged. “Don't act like that,” he said flatly, “you and I both know how much you like the attention."

Gojo barked out a laugh, shaking his head as he turned toward the bathroom.

Megumi smiled after him, still shocked at how light he felt.

How effortless this was.

How easy it was to breathe.

*

The air was crisp and fresh, the early morning still untouched by the heavy heat that would settle over the camp later in the day.

Nobara’s breathing was steady, her footsteps rhythmic against the packed dirt trail as she jogged through the quiet campground.

Most people were still asleep, the cabins dark and still, making the retreat feel almost abandoned at this hour.

She loved it, the solitude, the space to clear her head, the quiet before the storm of whatever new mystery they would uncover today.

But just as the cabin she shared with Yuji came into view, something shifted in the corner of her vision.

Her pace slowed, her breath coming out in shortened exhales as she turned her gaze toward the woods.

Something had moved.

A shadow, deep between the trees.

Almost like someone was watching.

Her feet faltered, slowing from a run to a walk, her eyes narrowing as she tried to get a better look.

But before she could process what she was seeing—

She nearly collided with someone.

“Shit—” Nobara jerked to a stop, barely managing to keep herself from slamming into them. "Sorry."

Her instincts sharpened immediately, hands already moving to push away—

Until she got a good look at the person in front of her.

The redheaded woman.

Nobara’s heart kicked up a notch.

The same woman she had seen before, the one she and Yuji had been keeping an eye on.

The woman who was part of whatever was going on here.

Nobara forced her body to stay relaxed, keeping her expression neutral, casual—like this was just a coincidental meeting and not a run-in with someone she was actively investigating.

“Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,” Nobara said smoothly, her tone even, polite.

The woman smiled, her red lips curling upward in a way that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “No worries.”

She tilted her head slightly, studying Nobara in a way that made her skin crawl.

Then, after a beat, she spoke again. “You’re the one with the pink-haired sub, right?”

Nobara’s breath slowed.

She didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, she gauged the situation, assessing the weight of the question, the intent behind it. She knew she should probably lie, but she also knew there might be no point. It might be a rhetorical question.

Then, finally, she nodded. “Yeah.”

"He's adorable, you're very lucky." The woman’s smile widened. “It’s refreshing to meet another female dom,” she mused, her tone light, conversational. “There aren’t many of us here.”

Nobara didn’t respond. She simply nodded again, offering a curt, detached expression—refusing to offer up any more information than necessary.

The woman’s eyes flickered with amusement. “I’m Yamika,” she offered.

Nobara simply inclined her head.

She didn’t give her own name. Didn’t let her guard down for even a second.

Instead, she said calmly, “Nice to meet you,” before stepping to the side, trying to walk past her. "Excuse me."

But just as she moved, Yamika’s hand shot out, gripping her arm.

The touch was firm, deceptively gentle, the smile still on her face.

But her voice darkened.

“Your sub is pretty cute,” she murmured, her fingers tightening just slightly. “It would be a shame if something happened to him.”

Nobara’s pulse spiked.

Yamika leaned in slightly, her grip still casual, almost friendly—a disturbing contrast to the thinly veiled threat she was giving.

“So if you’re looking into things that aren’t your business,” Yamika continued, soft but sharp, “I’d suggest you knock it off before somebody gets hurt.”

A flicker of heat flared in Nobara’s chest. Her temper burned, the urge to fight, to throw Yamika off of her, to wipe that eerie smile from her face—

But she forced herself to stay still.

She couldn’t act out here.

Not yet.

Instead, she wrenched her arm free, her voice low and clipped. “I'm sorry... Are you threatening me?"

Yamika simply tilted her head, smile never faltering.

Then, as if nothing had happened, she gave a small wave. “Have a nice day.”

And then, without another word, she turned and walked into the woods.

Directly into the shadows.

Nobara tensed, her body screaming at her to follow.

To find out where she was going, to see what the hell she was planning— But then, she realized exactly what was happening.

A distraction.

She whipped around, her heart hammering, and then she sprinted back toward the cabin.

Toward Yuji.

Nobara’s heart pounded violently in her chest as she burst through the cabin door.

“Yuji?” she shouted, voice tight with panic.

Silence.

The cabin was empty.

Her stomach dropped as she spun around the room, checking the kitchen, the couch, the hallway leading to the bedrooms—

Nothing.

“Yuji!” she yelled again, running into the bathroom—still empty.

Her breathing quickened, her fingers trembling as she yanked her phone out of her pocket.

Dialing.

Ringing.

At the same time, she whipped around and bolted out the door, running full speed toward Gojo’s cabin next door.

The second she reached it, she didn’t bother knocking.

She slammed the door open—

And immediately locked eyes with Yuji.

Standing in the kitchen.

Eating a bag of carrots.

“Uh… hey?” Yuji’s eyes widened in surprise at the sight of her, his mouth still half-full. "Look, Gojo bought some snacks."

Nobara didn’t even stop walking.

She marched toward him, punched him in the arm, and then immediately pulled him into a bone-crushing hug.

“You dumbass.” Her voice was muffled against his shoulder.

Yuji let out a confused laugh, wrapping his free arm around her. “Uh—? Are you okay?”

Nobara pulled back instantly, crossing her arms and glaring. “What the hell are you doing over here?” she snapped. “I specifically told you not to leave the cabin until I got back."

Before Yuji could answer, another voice cut in behind her.

“Kugisaki.”

She turned, catching Gojo’s sharp gaze from where he stood near the couch, arms crossed, expression dark.

“Not his fault. He texted Megumi, and I went over and grabbed him,” Gojo said, his tone less teasing, more teacher-like. "You can't just leave him alone like that."

Nobara blinked, caught off guard by how genuinely upset he sounded.

“He’s strong,” Gojo continued. “One of the strongest people I know. But he’s also a sub without suppressants.”

Nobara’s stomach clenched.

“If he gets a Command, he has no choice but to obey. It's like leaving him alone with an evil Inumaki.” Gojo’s expression was extremely serious. “It’s too dangerous.”

Nobara opened her mouth to argue—she had only been gone a few minutes—but before she could get a word out, Gojo shook his head.

“Nobara.” His voice was calm but firm. “You know how much Yuji loves to run. If you’re going to run, just take him with you. Or bring him here, or whatever." His expression became pleading. "I know how smart you are. Just... Think, before you make decisions like that."

Her argument died on her tongue. Because… He was right.

Nobara clenched her jaw, nodding once. “Got it. Sorry."

Gojo studied her for a second, before finally relaxing slightly, his easygoing smirk returning. “Good,” he said lightly. “Anyway... You okay?"

At that moment, Megumi walked out of the back bedroom, rubbing sleep from his eyes, clearly having just woken up.

"No, I'm not okay." Nobara turned to Megumi immediately. “I ran into the redheaded woman. Apparently her name is Yamika."

Gojo’s entire posture shifted.

"Oh shit." Yuji stepped closer, his eyes wide. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

Megumi straightened. “Yamika?”

“Yeah, I'm fine,” Nobara nodded, “She came out of nowhere while I was running. She pretended to be casual at first—said she was glad to meet another female dom. But then… She grabbed my arm and told me something bad would happen to Yuji if we kept looking into things.”

Megumi’s expression sharpened. 

“She was threatening me,” Nobara continued, gripping her own wrist tightly, remembering the grip Yamika had used. “And then, super creepy, she walked straight into the forest after that.”

Megumi spoke softly to her. "You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, I'm--" Nobara’s words trailed off as her eyes finally registered Megumi’s appearance. "Are you wearing Gojo's shirt? Gross."

Yuji couldn't help but bark out a laugh. "Leave it to you to notice something like that at a time like this."

But now Yuji was noticing it too. The way the oversized shirt hung off Megumi's frame.

The color—deep blue. It looked so familiar.

A slow smirk spread across Nobara's lips. “Wait a second.”

She dragged her gaze up and down Megumi’s body, now noticing his red, swollen lips, and putting the pieces together.

Gojo immediately stepped into her line of sight, his arms crossing protectively. “What the hell are you staring at?” Gojo asked, his voice flat, bordering on irritated.

The moment the words left his mouth, he realized how jealous it sounded. But it was too late.

Nobara’s eyebrows shot up. "How interesting." She teased. "Marking your territory over there?"

Yuji, still standing in the kitchen, let out a loud, amused laugh.

“Oh, wow,” Yuji grinned, clearly enjoying himself. "Did it finally happen?"

Megumi and Gojo shared a look.

Nobara's eyes widened dramatically as she pointed a sharp finger at Gojo. “No. No way. No fuckin' way.”

Gojo raised an eyebrow, his smirk slowly returning. “I don't know what you're talking about."

“You—” Nobara’s voice rose slightly. “You and Megumi?”

Megumi sighed, rolling his eyes. He really didn't want to make a big deal about it.

Gojo, however, grinned like a damn Cheshire cat. “Me and Megumi,” he confirmed easily.

Nobara gasped loudly, spinning toward Megumi. “Oh my god. You won.”

Megumi groaned, running a hand over his face. “I didn’t exactly—”

“You totally won!” Nobara cackled. "I mean, who wouldn't fall head over heels for you? I tried to tell you!"

Gojo beamed. “He wore me down with that beautiful smile of his,” he said, dramatically placing a hand on his chest. “And I was a perfect gentleman.”

Nobara looked fully unconvinced. "I'm sure."

Yuji, still chewing on his carrot, gave Gojo a thumbs up. “Nice,” he said simply. "You two make a cute couple."

"This isn't a joke, right? Or just for the mission, or whatever?" Nobara, still recovering from shock, ran a hand through her hair. “There’s no way you managed to score a sub like Megumi,” she said, pointing at Gojo accusingly.

Megumi let out a long, suffering sigh.

Gojo, however, grinned wider. “Not a joke. And trust me, I know.” His tone was entirely too smug. “I am the luckiest man alive.”

Nobara squinted at him like she didn't believe him, but after a few moments, she accepted it. "You better not fuck it up."

"I wouldn't dare."

Megumi rolled his eyes.

But despite himself—

He smiled.

Because as much as Gojo was a ridiculous, insufferable idiot—

Megumi knew, he was lucky too.

***

Chapter Text

The dining hall was buzzing with conversation and laughter, the clinking of silverware against plates blending into the steady hum of voices.

The group sat at their usual table, tucked into the far side of the room, where they could watch the rest of the retreat without drawing too much attention to themselves.

A camp counselor stood near the front, loudly reading off the schedule for the day.

“For those interested, there will be a group hike after lunch,” she announced, her voice carrying over the crowd. “And later this evening, we’ll be having another bonfire dinner outside.”

Nobara nodded to herself, listening carefully, making sure she didn’t miss anything important.

Because Gojo sure as hell wasn’t paying attention.

She glanced to her side, smirking slightly at the sight in front of her.

Gojo and Megumi were fully wrapped up in each other, whispering quietly, sharing soft touches, small smiles, and generally looking like they were the only people in the world.

Megumi was leaning in close, murmuring something that made Gojo chuckle softly, his fingers skimming the side of Megumi’s jaw before returning to his meal.

Nobara rolled her eyes fondly.

But she wasn’t annoyed. She wasn’t going to tease them.

Because seeing Megumi this happy?

Seeing Gojo this content?

It was worth it.

She could handle keeping an eye on things while they stayed in their little bubble.

But then— Gojo suddenly cleared his throat, straightening slightly in his seat.

With a slow, deliberate motion, he slid an arm around Yuji’s back, pulling him in.

Yuji blinked in surprise, still chewing his food, before Gojo leaned in close and whispered, “Don’t look.”

Yuji immediately stiffened.

His body tensed for half a second, but he forced himself to stay casual, slowly leaning against Gojo as if it were nothing.

His voice was calm, though his expression was nervous. “What’s going on?”

Gojo’s eyes scanned the room, his fingers tapping lightly against Yuji’s back. “I don’t see the redheaded woman,” he murmured, “but I see the man.”

Yuji nodded once, but otherwise didn't react.

“He’s watching you,” Gojo added. “And he’s not exactly being subtle about it.”

Yuji’s breath slowed, his heartbeat picking up.

He wanted to look so badly.

But he forced himself to stay still.

At that moment, Nobara stood up.

Without a word, she grabbed her plate, walked around the table, and plopped down directly across from Yuji.

Effectively blocking him from view.

Yuji exhaled slowly, relaxing just slightly. "Thanks."

Nobara gave him a small, reassuring smile, before diving into her food like nothing was wrong.

Gojo, watching carefully, let out a slow breath. He understood what was going on.

She was making up for this morning.

She was proving that she was taking this mission seriously.

That she knew how to protect a sub.

Gojo’s lips curled slightly, an approving smile flickering across his face.

Nobara didn’t look up, but she knew he was watching. And she didn’t need a thank you.

She just needed to make sure they all made it out of this place in one piece.

*

The air was warm, but not unbearable, the perfect temperature for a hike.

The group was gathered outside Gojo’s cabin, dressed in athletic clothing, ready for the afternoon ahead.

Yuji, as eager as ever, was stretching his legs, bouncing slightly on his heels as he grinned widely at the others.

Megumi and Nobara, standing nearby, exchanged amused glances before turning toward him in sync.

“Oh, I see what this is,” Nobara teased, arms crossed over her chest.

Yuji, mid-stretch, blinked in confusion. “Huh?”

Megumi smirked, motioning toward Yuji’s tank top. “You’re trying to impress all the ladies with your guns out.”

Yuji snorted, flexing dramatically before wiggling his eyebrows. “I mean… If they happen to look, I won’t stop ‘em.”

Nobara rolled her eyes, shoving his arm. “Disgusting.”

Yuji laughed, but before the teasing could continue, Gojo turned the key, locking the cabin door behind him.

“Alright,” he said, stretching his arms overhead, “let’s—”

“Wait.” Megumi’s soft voice came from just behind him.

Gojo immediately stopped, turning the key back without hesitation, chuckling as he pushed the door open again.

“Be quick, babe,” he murmured, the warmth in his voice effortless.

Megumi nodded, rushing back inside.

Yuji couldn't help his wide grin. "Aw. You guys are already at the 'babe' stage?"

"Yeah." Gojo half shrugged, smiling back at him and giving him an easygoing answer. "Why not?"

Nobara groaned again, shooting a glare at Gojo too. "You two are sickening."

Megumi didn't hear what Gojo came back with, but he heard Gojo's loud laugh as he hurried through the cabin.

The moment he reached the bedroom, he grabbed his lightweight black jacket from the bed, fingers curling around the fabric.

He turned to leave— And froze.

Someone was standing right behind him.

Smiling.

Megumi’s heart skipped violently, his breath catching as his mind tried to make sense of what he was seeing.

Nobara?

But something felt wrong.

Before he could react, he heard a Command.

“Shut your mouth.”

The Command hit him instantly.

Megumi’s lips sealed shut, his body locking up before he even had time to fight it.

And then came the next. "Kneel."

His body moved against his will, his knees slamming to the floor, a sharp sting shooting through him from the impact.

His stomach twisted violently as the illusion shifted slightly, distorting like a ripple in water—

And then he saw her.

Not Nobara.

Yamika.

Megumi’s chest tightened. His fingers twitched, his mind screaming at him to move, to summon his techniques.

He slowly began to press his hands together— But Yamika smiled again.

She crouched in front of him, her grin widening. “Don’t move.”

Shit.

His entire body froze.

Panic gripped him, but he forced himself to breathe slowly, to think through this.

The longer he focused, the clearer it became—

This wasn’t Nobara.

The illusion wavered at the edges, like a reflection in fractured glass.

Yamika’s eyes glimmered in amusement.

“You should be more careful.” Her voice was sweet, but the weight behind it was vicious. “You and your little friends, sticking your noses where they don’t belong… It’s dangerous.”

She reached out, trailing a finger along his jaw, although she didn't actually touch him.

Megumi glared at her and managed to grit his teeth, almost convincing himself to try to bite her just to get her to back off.

"You're not on my list." She continued. "But I can add you, if you're that desperate for attention. I just... I want to make sure you understand your role, sub." She spat the last word with a venomous tone. "Understand how powerless you are."

Megumi could only stare at her, expressionless and unaffected by her words.

"That's okay. I've worked with defiant subs before, and I have no problem breaking them." Then, softly, almost playfully, she gave him a final Command. “Hold your breath.”

Megumi’s eyes widened, as Yamika grinned at him, before disappearing in front of his eyes.

He felt it immediately—his body refusing to inhale, his chest locking up, and panic setting in.

A deep, primal terror.

His vision blurred slightly, and he forced himself to think.

He needed to try to do something. His fingers twitched, shaking as he desperately reached for his phone.

But his limbs felt heavy, unresponsive.

Then— Footsteps.

A familiar voice calling out. “Megumi?”

Gojo.

Relief rushed through him, but he was already lightheaded, his body fighting for air.

Gojo’s grin was easy, casual. But the second he stepped into the bedroom, his expression shattered.

Gojo rushed forward, dropping onto his knees in front of him, gripping his shoulders tightly. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

Megumi couldn’t answer, but he hoped his eyes were pleading enough.

Gojo knew he wasn't supposed to issue any orders, but the situation called for it.

Gojo’s grip tightened, his gaze sharp and searching. His voice dropped into a Command. “Relax.”

Megumi’s muscles uncoiled slightly, his body loosening, but his lungs still burned.

Gojo’s next words were quick, urgent, but not a Command. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

Megumi’s body responded before his brain could catch up. His fingers flew up to his throat, scratching desperately, eyes wide.

Gojo understood instantly. His voice was strong and absolute with his next Command. “Breathe.”

Megumi gasped, inhaling sharply as air rushed into his lungs. He collapsed forward, trembling slightly, his face pressing into Gojo’s shoulder.

He was so relieved, he could cry.

And Gojo didn’t hesitate to hold him.

One hand bracing the back of Megumi’s head, the other wrapping around his waist, steadying him.

He still had no idea what the fuck was going on, but he knew that he never wanted to see fear in Megumi's eyes ever again.

Megumi’s fingers curled into the fabric of Gojo’s shirt.

For a long moment, neither of them moved.

Gojo’s voice was low, steady.

“I got you, Megs. It’s okay. You're okay."

Megumi’s breath shook, but he nodded against him.

Because at least for the time being, he believed it.

*

The front door slammed open, and Yuji and Nobara rushed in, feeling suspicious of what was taking so long. 

Nobara was briefly panicked that maybe the redheaded couple had returned. 

“What’s going on?” Nobara demanded, her eyes darting around the room before landing on Megumi still pressed against Gojo.

Yuji immediately froze, his eyes scanning the cabin for any sign of danger.

Megumi looked up past Gojo’s shoulder—and the moment his eyes landed on Nobara, his entire body tensed.

He flinched at the sight of her.

Something in his expression shifted, like his mind was fighting against an illusion all over again. He squinted at her, the anxiety evident on his face. 

Gojo noticed immediately.

Gojo turned his head slightly, holding up a hand to Yuji and Nobara, his voice calm, but firm. “Back off for a second.”

He didn’t know why, but Megumi was unraveling again just from looking at them.

Yuji didn’t hesitate—he immediately turned and walked toward the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water without a word.

Nobara, however, looked hurt. She opened her mouth, then clamped it shut, backing away toward the front door.

Gojo turned back to Megumi, gently cupping his face, pulling Megumi’s focus back to him.

“Hey.” His voice was soft, grounding. “Just look at me, okay? Take deep breaths. Just relax.”

Megumi exhaled slowly, his shoulders finally loosening, his heartbeat starting to slow.

For a few moments, he was lost in Gojo’s gaze, the steady blue of his eyes calming him down in a way that nothing else could.

But then, Megumi abruptly pulled back, pushing himself to his feet. “I need to explain,” he muttered, still a little breathless. “But just..." He glanced up at Nobara. "Stay over there."

Her expression flickered, the briefest hint of hurt crossing her face. But she nodded, stepping back again without argument.

Yuji walked over, handing Megumi the glass of water, giving him a quick side hug before stepping away again.

Gojo stood up as well, watching Megumi closely, his entire posture protective.

Gojo took the opportunity to apologize. "Sorry for... Bossing you around. I know I promised I'd never use that tone on you, I just... I didn't know what else to do."

Megumi reached for Gojo’s hand.

And held onto it. Firmly.

"It's fine." Is all Megumi had to say. He knew that Gojo had no choice. 

Gojo glanced down at their hands, then back up at Megumi, but he didn’t say a word about it.

Instead, he simply squeezed back.

Megumi inhaled, then started explaining. “I think she has multiple cursed techniques,” he muttered. “Teleportation. Illusions, or something. She teleported in, disguised as Nobara, and before I could react, she gave me Commands.”

Yuji’s head snapped toward Gojo, his face filled with disbelief. "That's possible?"

Gojo half shrugged. "Must be."

Megumi’s jaw clenched. “But I don’t think she’s as strong as she wants us to believe,” he continued. “If I looked at the illusion too closely, I could tell it wasn’t really Nobara. The more I convinced myself it wasn’t real… The less real it became.”

For a moment, there was silence.

And then, Gojo grabbed him in another hug. Harder this time.

Megumi let out a small sound of protest, half-heartedly pushing against him—

But Gojo didn’t let go.

"Sorry I wasn't there." His arms wrapped tightly around Megumi, his breath warm against his ear, his voice low, unwavering. “I’m never letting you out of my sight again.”

Megumi stiffened slightly. Then, slowly, he relaxed.

His chin rested against Gojo’s shoulder, his free hand still gripping the glass of water that he hadn’t even taken a sip from yet.

Yuji shifted slightly, his voice breaking the moment. “So what do we do?” he asked. “Besides, you know… Sticking together like glue?”

Nobara didn't hesitate. "We kick her ass the next time we see her."

Yuji nodded slowly. "Well, that's kinda hard for some of us, y'know. With her Commands and all."

"Yeah, but still." Nobara shot Gojo a look. "You gonna weigh in at some point?"

Gojo finally leaned back, his usual grin returning.

His upbeat energy snapped back into place like it had never left, trying to cheer everyone up.

“Glad you asked.” He clapped his hands together, smirking. “I came up with an awesome safe word. I think we could use it when we're not sure if somebody is real or not."

Yuji blinked. "A safe word?"

"Listen to this, it's pretty clever." Gojo’s grin widened. “Jumanji.”

Nobara let out a short laugh. “Jumanji?”

Gojo nodded dramatically. “Yeah! In the movie, when they say ‘Jumanji,’ everybody gets to go home safe. Megs shot me down, but... It's funny, right?"

Yuji raised his eyebrows, curiously.

Like he wasn’t trying to be a menace.

“Sooo… You and Megumi have a safe word?” He asked casually.

Megumi came out of his daze and his face turned bright red. He immediately pushed Gojo away, scowling as he crossed his arms. “It’s for the mission.” Megumi snapped, his voice an octave higher than usual. “Nothing else."

Yuji glanced at Nobara.

She glanced back at him.

And then they both snickered.

Softly at first.

Then a little louder.

Gojo, utterly unbothered, just stretched his arms behind his head, grinning widely. "See? It's funny. I told you so, Megs."

Megumi glared at all of them.

*

The trail was winding, surrounded by dense trees and the occasional break in the canopy, where sunlight streamed through in golden beams.

The air was thick with the scent of earth and pine, and the sounds of birds chirping mixed with the low hum of chatter from the other retreat attendees.

Megumi wasn’t paying attention to any of it.

Because Gojo wouldn’t let go of his hand.

For most of the hike, Gojo had kept close to him, his grip warm and steady, fingers occasionally tracing circles against Megumi’s palm.

And every few minutes, Gojo would lean in and murmur softly. “You okay?”

Megumi would nod.

Gojo would squeeze his hand.

And then, a little while later. “Sure you’re okay?”

Megumi would nod again, rolling his eyes, but he didn’t pull away.

Because he knew what this was. Gojo was just worried about him.

Because of Yamika.

Because, for a few terrifying moments, Megumi had been entirely powerless.

So if holding his hand for a hike through the woods made Gojo feel better— Megumi could handle that.

Besides... He didn’t really mind.

A few steps ahead, Yuji was chatting with nearly everyone, his bright energy infectious as he introduced himself to anyone willing to talk.

Nobara was keeping an eye on him, but had slowed her pace to stay closer to Gojo and Megumi.

Halfway through the hike, the group had worked up a good sweat, the warm air settling over them.

Megumi could feel a few drops sliding down the back of his neck, his sleeves sticking slightly to his arms.

Nobara slowed her steps, moving beside him.

She glanced at Gojo. “Can I steal him for a second?”

Gojo hummed dramatically. “Hmm… Only if you promise to give him back."

Nobara gave him a tight smile. "I promise."

Gojo brought Megumi’s hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles before finally letting go.

Then, with an exaggerated sigh, he sped up his pace, catching up to Yuji, reaching out to pull him back slightly.

“Don’t go too far ahead.” Gojo spoke softly to him, just wanting to keep an eye on his team.

Yuji grinned, dragging Gojo toward another small group of retreat attendees like he was showing off a prize-winning pet.

Megumi exhaled, watching them for a second, before turning back to Nobara.

She gave him a small smile, walking in silence for a few moments.

Then, finally, she spoke. “I’m sorry.”

Megumi blinked, caught off guard.

“For what?”

Nobara exhaled, looking ahead.

“I feel bad that you didn’t realize you were in danger until it was too late,” she muttered. “Just because Yamika used my face.”

"That's stupid." Megumi scoffed, rolling his eyes. “That’s not your fault.”

Nobara shrugged. “I know,” she admitted. “But I still feel bad anyway.”

Megumi sighed, shaking his head.

“Well, don’t.”

She nodded slowly, accepting his answer.

They walked in companionable silence, both of them watching ahead as Yuji dragged Gojo toward another group of people, eagerly introducing him to literally everyone.

Gojo, surprisingly, went along with it, flashing his trademark grin and charming everyone he met.

Nobara let out a small laugh, then glanced at Megumi again.

“So, how’s it going with the big guy?” she asked casually.

Megumi immediately answered. “Good.” Then, after a beat, “I think.”

Nobara raised an eyebrow.

Megumi exhaled, thinking it through. “Obviously we haven’t been together long, so it’s hard to say for sure, but…” He hesitated.

“But?” Nobara prompted.

Megumi shrugged, a little awkward. “I think things are good. He... Makes me smile."

Nobara’s expression softened.

She smiled, nudging him slightly. “I’m proud of you, you know.”

Megumi gave her a sideways glance. “For what?”

“For fighting for what you want,” she said simply. "You're always so quick to diminish the things you care about. Always putting yourself second. But with Gojo, you just... You just went for it."

Megumi frowned slightly. “It's not really a big deal."

Nobara chuckled, shaking her head. “It’s so rare for you to give yourself permission to be happy. I'm just... I'm proud of you."

"Oh." Megumi's response died on his tongue.

He hadn't thought about it like that.

Never thought about the way he had spent years avoiding things he wanted, because wanting things meant risking losing them.

Never thought about the way he had kept himself at arm’s length from happiness, because happiness never seemed like something meant for him.

But now—

He looked ahead, watching Gojo laugh loudly as Yuji animatedly told some kind of ridiculous story, flailing his arms.

He watched the way Gojo’s shoulders shook, the way he looked so effortlessly happy.

Megumi thought, as long as he could make Gojo happy, then he'd be happy too.

***

Chapter Text

The hike ended at the edge of the campground, where the lake stretched wide and glimmering, the late afternoon sun reflecting off its surface in golden waves.

The hike had been long, but the cool, glistening lake made it all worth it.

Yuji grinned as he jogged back toward Nobara and Megumi, his face flushed from exertion but bright with excitement.

“Some of the group is gonna cool off in the lake,” he announced, barely stopping before turning back toward the shoreline. “I think we should go too.”

Gojo hummed his agreement, barely sparing a second to wipe sweat from his forehead before nudging Megumi forward. “Good idea, Yu.”

And just like that, Megumi was coming too.

No argument. No complaints. No signature Megumi scowl.

Yuji caught it immediately. He bit his lip, hiding his smile as he walked beside Megumi. Then he giggled.

Megumi’s head snapped toward him, suspicious. “What?”

Yuji elbowed him playfully, his grin borderline smug. “So... All of a sudden, you’ll do anything Gojo asks, huh?”

Megumi’s face heated. He scowled, elbowing Yuji right back. “Shut up.”

Nobara, sensing an opportunity, decided to twist the knife.

“Oh, please.” She rolled her eyes, stretching her arms behind her head. “Like you’re one to talk, Yuji. You’ve always done whatever Gojo asks. What’s your excuse?”

Yuji’s mouth opened. Then snapped shut again. 

Until he settled on, "Well sure. We're buddies."

Gojo, who had been walking behind them, just watched the scene unfold with a fond smile, his fingers casually tugging at the hem of his shirt to fan himself from the heat.

He was happy.

Happier than he had been in a long time.

Because there was something about this moment—something about watching his students be ridiculous, something about Megumi willingly at his side, something about just being here that felt… right.

He let them have their bickering, their banter, their teasing.

Then, Yuji shoved Nobara, with a huge grin on his face.

Nobara barely stumbled, immediately shoving him back harder.

“Race you!” Yuji declared, the challenge bright in his voice.

Before anyone could stop him, he took off toward the lake.

“You little—!” Nobara sprinted after him, her battle cry echoing through the trees.

Gojo just laughed softly, shaking his head as he caught up to Megumi, their steps naturally falling in sync.

Gojo teased. “They’re gonna kill each other one day, huh?”

Megumi sighed, shaking his head. “At least they’ll die happy.”

Gojo chuckled.

Then, as they reached the edge of the lake, Megumi stopped walking.

Instead of following the others straight into the water, he crouched down, pulled off his shoes and socks, and tossed them onto the growing pile of discarded clothes.

But he didn’t move forward.

He just stood there.

Staring at the lake.

Gojo tilted his head, amused. He pulled his shirt off to toss into the pile.

He kicked off his own shoes, then walked over, throwing an arm around Megumi’s shoulders. “What are you waiting for, Megs?”

Megumi shrugged, his voice calm, but distant. “I’m fine right here.”

Gojo studied him carefully.

Megumi’s face was relaxed, his expression carefully blank—but Gojo could see past it.

There was hesitation in his posture. A quiet, internal war happening behind those dark eyes.

Gojo’s fingers twitched, fighting the urge to trace the side of Megumi’s jaw, to tilt his chin and force him to look at him instead of the ground.

He’d always been good at reading Megumi.

Maybe because Megumi reminded him so much of his younger self.

Always hesitant to want things.

Always hesitant to take up space.

Always holding himself back from the things that made him happy.

He felt a pang of something deep in his chest.

Yuji’s voice broke the moment. “Megumi! C’mon!”

Then, Nobara. “Quit being boring and get in here!”

Gojo grinned with an idea. "Can you do me a favor?"

"Oh god."

"Aw, come on. Don't you trust me?"

"Sometimes."

Gojo bumped Megumi's shoulder with his own. "You're breaking my heart."

Megumi finally sighed. "Okay, fine. What do you want?"

"Can you take your shirt off for me?"

Megumi met his eyes, eyebrows raised. 

"What if I say please?" Gojo tried, a teasing smile on his face. 

Megumi just rolled his eyes, grabbing the bottom hem of his shirt to pull it over his head.

Gojo nodded once, and then spoke again. “Don’t get mad, okay?”

Megumi’s brows furrowed. “What--?"

Before he could finish, Gojo’s hands were suddenly on his waist, lifting him off of the sand.

“Hey!” Megumi protested, gripping the hem of Gojo’s shorts to keep himself from slipping as Gojo hauled him over his shoulder like a sack of rice.

Gojo’s laugh echoed against the trees, a sound so bright and full of life, that Megumi almost forgot to be mad.

Almost.

“Put me down, you asshole.”

“Sorry, babe. No can do.”

Gojo’s grip was strong, effortless, like he was carrying nothing at all.

Nobara and Yuji cheered loudly from the water, their excitement only fueling Gojo’s antics.

Finally, once they were deep enough into the lake, Gojo gently set Megumi down, lowering him slowly into the cool water.

Megumi immediately shoved him.

Gojo barely even moved. He just grinned, like Megumi had made his entire day.

Megumi scowled. “You’re the worst.”

Gojo snickered, stepping closer, grabbing Megumi’s wrists before he could push him again.

And then with zero hesitation, he pulled Megumi against his chest, and kissed him.

Megumi’s mind emptied.

Gojo’s lips were soft, warm, tasting like sunlight and something sweet. Like something out of a dream.

And Megumi—

Megumi let himself fall.

Not just into the kiss.

Not just into the moment.

But into Gojo.

And he didn’t want to stop.

*

The water was cool, refreshing, lapping gently against their legs as the group lingered in the lake, surrounded by other retreat attendees.

Yuji and Nobara were in the middle of a battle, their laughter echoing across the water as they splashed aggressively at each other, neither willing to back down.

“You’re so dead.” Nobara called out, wiping water from her eyes before throwing another wave of water toward him.

Yuji yelped, giggling as he splashed her back twice as hard.

Megumi, who had zero interest in getting caught in their crossfire, had already found safety.

Behind Gojo’s broad shoulders.

Gojo had turned himself just enough to shield Megumi from the barrage of water, his back taking the brunt of Yuji and Nobara’s chaos.

Megumi was grateful—and maybe a little smug—as he wrapped his arms around Gojo’s waist, holding onto him comfortably while peeking out at the sight of the lake.

Gojo chuckled, feeling Megumi’s chest press against him. “You using me as a shield, sweetheart?” he teased, his tone light, playful.

Megumi hummed. “Mmhm.”

Gojo grinned, rubbing small circles into Megumi’s lower back.

For a few moments, Megumi just enjoyed the view.

The way the water reflected the golden sky.

The way Yuji and Nobara were so unapologetically themselves, existing in their own world of laughter and friendly fights.

The way Gojo stood in front of him, so solid, so steady, like an unshakable force that Megumi knew, deep down, would always be there.

Then, Gojo suddenly started moving.

Megumi blinked, walking backward instinctively, following without question.

He wasn’t sure where they were going, but he didn't panic.

He trusted Gojo. Trusted whatever he was doing.

Gojo’s arm slid lower, his fingers brushing against Megumi’s spine before he gently turned him forward, tucking Megumi under his arm as they approached a small group of retreat attendees.

Gojo greeted them easily, his charm slipping into place like second nature. “Hey there! Sorry to interrupt, did I hear you mention that someone’s missing?”

Megumi immediately noticed the way some of the subs in the group straightened, their posture stiffening in Gojo's presence. Instinctively, he held onto Gojo a little tighter.

Gojo’s grip on him adjusted, fingers brushing reassuringly along Megumi’s hip.

The female dom in the group was the first to answer.

“Yeah, we were just talking about that,” she said, brows furrowing. “There was a dom and a sub at the Collared Event last night… But nobody’s seen them since then.”

Gojo feigned surprise, his lips parting. “Really? That’s awful.”

Megumi leaned up slightly, about to whisper something to Gojo, but before he could, a male dom in the group spoke up.

“No need to lower your voice, honey.” His tone was casual, friendly. “This group isn’t so caught up in those outdated rules. You can speak freely.”

Megumi hesitated for a split second—but then nodded once. “Does anyone know their names?” Megumi asked, his voice even.

One of the subs in the group, a young woman with short dark hair, spoke up. “I don’t think any of us really got a chance to talk to them.” She glanced at her partner before looking back at Megumi. “But I do remember them. Actually, I remember that the sub got up with you and that pink haired guy. For the weird volunteer thing."

Megumi’s breath hitched. "Oh."

The fact that Megumi had been standing so close to her. That it easily could've been him instead of her.

"She was blonde, and kinda short. You remember?"

"I remember." Megumi responded curtly.

He slowly turned his head, looking up at Gojo, his expression shifting into something deeply concerned.

Gojo met his gaze, and Megumi could tell—

He was thinking the same thing.

That this situation was becoming incredibly dangerous. And they were running out of time to find a solution.

*

The water dripped from their clothes, soaking into the sand as they walked back toward the cabins, the lake shimmering behind them.

Yuji was a few steps ahead, carrying both his and Nobara’s shoes as he talked easily, his voice cheerful.

“Man, I’m already starving.”

Nobara scoffed, rolling her eyes. “You’re always starving.”

Yuji grinned, unbothered. “Yeah, but I just burned so many calories, you know? I'm allowed."

Gojo laughed softly, pulling his shirt over his head, the fabric sticking slightly to his damp skin before he adjusted it.

Then, without breaking his stride, he reached down, picking up Megumi’s shoes along with his own.

Megumi blinked at him. “Thanks.”

Gojo just smiled, tucking his shoes under his arm as he let Megumi walk beside him.

Megumi had left his shirt off, not wanting to feel the heavy, wet fabric clinging to him.

But as the warm air brushed against his skin, he found himself crossing his arms over his chest, barely even thinking about it.

His eyes narrowed.

Because Gojo was staring at him. Blatantly.

Megumi’s brows furrowed, and he finally turned toward him with an irritated glare. “What the hell are you looking at?”

Gojo didn’t flinch.

Didn’t even try to hide it.

He just shrugged, completely unbothered, his lips curving into a knowing smirk. “You.”

Megumi scowled harder, but before he could respond, Gojo spoke again.

This time, his voice was softer.

More honest.

“You’re just really stunning, Megs. That’s all.”

Megumi’s chest tightened.

His gut reaction was to shut it down. To deflect, to dismiss, to shove the words away before they could settle.

But before he could even try, Gojo wrapped an arm around him and pulled him close.

His body was so warm, even after being in the cold lake water, his touch solid and grounding as he leaned in slightly.

His voice dropped just for Megumi. “Why does it bother you when I compliment you?”

Megumi stiffened slightly, his hands gripping his forearms tighter, his face heating up.

He wanted to ignore the question. But he also knew that Gojo would see through him.

So instead, he just shrugged, his voice flat. “I don’t know. It’s just… Not something I think about.”

Gojo hummed. “Why not?”

His fingers brushed against Megumi’s hip, barely there.

Megumi hesitated.

Because he never had a reason to.

Because he had never cared.

Because there was always something more important to focus on.

Because no one ever looked at him like this before. Like he was worth looking at.

“Because I just don’t,” he muttered.

Gojo sighed dramatically, squeezing him slightly. “I've known you forever, Megs. And if the reason is because you don't think you deserve to hear it, then I'm sorry, but I'm never gonna shut up about you. I adore you, and I care about you. And I'm not gonna let you forget it."

Megumi frowned.

Gojo grinned. “You’re absolutely beautiful,” he said again, but even softer this time, almost like a confession. "And I feel so lucky to have your attention."

Megumi’s breath hitched.

And the worst part?

He could tell Gojo meant it.

That Gojo wasn’t saying it to tease him.

That Gojo actually believed it.

And Megumi didn’t know what to do with that.

Because for the first time in a long time, he felt special.

Like he was being seen.

Like Gojo was looking right at him. And liking what he saw.

***

Chapter Text

The cabin was quiet, filled only with the soft hum of the television and the occasional bouts of laughter from Gojo and Yuji as they sat on the couch, entertained by the cartoon on the screen.

Megumi, however, was only half paying attention.

He sat sideways on the couch, his legs stretched across Gojo’s lap, a book resting in his hands.

Gojo’s fingers moved lazily over Megumi’s calves, massaging them absentmindedly as he watched the show, occasionally giggling along with Yuji.

Megumi felt comfortable.

And maybe even a little too content with the way Gojo was so effortlessly affectionate, his touches gentle, grounding... His presence a constant warmth.

Yuji and Gojo were easily entertained, their giggling contagious, their energy light and easy, complementing each other too well.

Megumi huffed softly, shaking his head at their ridiculousness before turning another page in his book.

The cabin door creaked open, and Nobara walked in, her hair damp from her shower, her expression relaxed.

She glanced toward the couch, then tapped Gojo’s shoulder. “Your turn.”

Gojo hummed, stretching his arms over his head, his muscles shifting with the motion as he yawned. “Gotcha.”

Megumi's eyes drifted up from his book, eyes finding the thin strip of skin that Gojo's lifted shirt exposed. He felt a little shame, but at the same time, he couldn't help himself.

Gojo didn't even notice. He turned toward Nobara, grinning. “You’ll watch over the babies for me?”

Nobara scoffed, rolling her eyes. “I’ve been doing that since the first day I met them."

Gojo laughed, pushing himself up from the couch. "That's fair."

Megumi shot him a glare. "I'm not a baby."

Yuji wanted to add on. "Yeah, exactly. I'm a grown ass man."

Nobara took Gojo's seat on the couch between the other two. Flatly, she responded, "You have pink hair, and you like your sandwiches best with the crusts cut off."

"How dare you bring my hair into this. I'm adorable."

Gojo chuckled again, flashing Megumi one of his smiles. "You're right, you're not a baby. But you're my baby." Then, without hesitation, he reached down, grabbing Megumi’s hand. “Come with me for a sec?”

Megumi hesitated, leaving his book behind as he allowed Gojo to pull him along, following him into the back bedroom.

"My baby?" Nobara called after them. "Gross."

Yuji immediately teased her. "Don't make fun of them just because you're jealous."

"I am not jealous. Men are lame." Nobara paused for a second, before glancing at him. "So... You wanna make out?"

Yuji knew she was teasing, and he laughed loudly, leaning over to shove her shoulder.

The door clicked shut behind the other pair, and Gojo let out a long exhale, sitting on the edge of the bed before tugging Megumi closer.

Megumi stared down at him, his arms naturally resting on Gojo’s shoulders as Gojo’s hands found his lower back, pulling him in.

For a moment, they just looked at each other. Gojo tilted his head back, his eyes searching, his expression softer than usual.

Then, finally, he spoke. “So listen... I know you wanna shower too,” he started. “But I’d feel a lot better if I was in the same room with you when you do.”

Megumi’s body stiffened slightly, his fingers tensing against Gojo’s shoulders. "Obviously, you know what I'm gonna say."

"I know." Gojo’s grip on him tightened, just barely. “I’m not trying to be overbearing, Megs.” His voice was gentle, deliberate. “But we’re dealing with a teleporting villain. And I just—” He sighed. “I just don’t like the idea of you being in a vulnerable spot when I can’t get to you.”

Megumi swallowed hard, giving himself a moment to think about it.

Gojo rubbed slow, soothing circles against his back. “I’d even wear my blindfold if it makes you feel better.”

Megumi looked away, feeling a mix of embarrassment, hesitation, and something else. Something he wasn't exactly ready to confront.

But Gojo’s fingers slipped under his chin, gently tilting his face back toward him. “Just be honest with me, babe.”

Megumi stared into Gojo’s eyes, feeling bare under his gaze.

There was no pressure there.

No demand.

Just pure, unshaken concern.

He hesitated for a few seconds, his fingers idly tracing the fabric of Gojo’s shirt. Then, softly, he answered. “Maybe… Later tonight. When they aren't here."

Gojo smiled immediately, relieved that Megumi was even open to it at all. He nodded. “Okay. Tonight then. Whatever you're comfortable with."

Megumi’s hands slid up to Gojo’s jaw, and before he could think twice, he leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to Gojo’s lips.

It was a silent thank you.

For being so good to him.

For being so patient.

For just being Gojo.

Gojo’s fingers tightened around Megumi’s waist, his lips curving into a grin the second they broke apart. "Aren't you sweet?" His voice was teasing, smug. “You finally falling for me or something?"

Megumi rolled his eyes, nudging him playfully before stepping back toward the door. “Don’t ruin the moment, idiot.”

Gojo just laughed, watching him go, his heart feeling lighter than it had in years.

*

A few hours later, Gojo stood in the bathroom, adjusting the cuffs of his dress shirt as he examined his reflection in the mirror.

The dark fabric hugged his frame just right, tucked neatly into black jeans, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

He was in the middle of pulling his belt through the loops, when he heard a soft voice from behind him.

“Satoru?"

He turned, his brows raising slightly at the sight of Megumi standing just inside the doorway, his black collar loosely hanging around his neck.

Gojo immediately straightened, his hands falling away from his belt as his focus shifted entirely to him. "Hey."

“Will you help me?”

His voice was quiet, unsure.

And for a second, Gojo couldn’t bring himself to answer. Because something about the way Megumi stood there, trusting him with this— It made his chest feel too full.

And it also made him feel a little awful, that Megumi was even having to deal with this.

But he didn’t let the moment stretch too long, for Megumi's sake.

Instead, he stepped forward, reaching for Megumi’s neck with delicate fingers, adjusting the leather carefully before fastening it into place. "Sorry if my hands are cold."

His thumbs brushed against Megumi’s jaw, just for a second, before his eyes flickered back up to his face.

Megumi’s expression was still unreadable, but after a second, he shook his head.

Gojo tilted his own. “Too tight?” he asked, his voice gentle.

Megumi hesitated for a fraction of a second. Then, quietly, “Yeah.”

"Sorry." Gojo apologized instantly, his fingers working quickly to loosen it. He glanced back up, watching for any sign of relief. “Better?”

Megumi didn’t answer right away.

Instead, his eyes darted away, his fingers twitching slightly at his sides.

Gojo could tell he was getting flustered.

He almost smirked at the thought, but instead, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to Megumi’s lips, just enough to pull his focus back.

Megumi stubbornly took a step back and looked down at the floor, nearly pressing his back to the bathroom door.

Gojo followed him, lifting Megumi's chin with one hand to press another kiss to his lips.

Megumi exhaled, meeting his eyes again.

Gojo tilted his head. “How’s that? Be honest with me."

Megumi swallowed once before nodding. “It’s fine.”

Gojo smiled, his hands still resting gently on Megumi’s collar. “I’ll get it off you as soon as I can, okay?"

Megumi just nodded again, his hands lifting slightly, catching the edges of Gojo’s belt where it hung loose.

Without saying anything, he started fastening it for him, his movements focused, steady.

Gojo let him, watching him fondly, something soft and unreadable settling in his chest.

Then, the door creaked open.

“Oh my God.”

Yuji’s voice. Way too loud.

“Guys, c’mon, at least put a sock on the door next time.” Nobara groaned dramatically, her tone borderline smug.

Megumi froze, and then his eyes narrowed, practically offended that they were being interrupted. "You fuckers."

He threw his elbow backward without looking, landing it directly into Yuji’s stomach.

Yuji wheezed, stumbling back as Nobara laughed hysterically.

Gojo grinned, staying out of the way as Megumi whipped around, immediately chasing them both out of the room.

“You two have no sense of privacy!” Megumi snapped, his cheeks still burning.

“Oh, lighten up,” Nobara snickered, dodging his half-hearted swat. “You’re the one getting cozy in the bathroom with your boy—”

"Will you shut up?" Megumi cut her off, glaring daggers as she giggled and slipped onto the couch.

Gojo finally emerged, following them into the living room, his hands tucked into his pockets, watching with an amused expression.

Megumi continued. "He's not my boy-anything, so can you calm the fuck down?"

"Aww, don't do that. You two are so cute together." Nobara teased.

Megumi and Nobara were still bickering, their voices overlapping, when Yuji suddenly stepped over to him.

Gojo barely had time to register it before Yuji was holding out his collar, his face sheepish, hesitant. “Hey… Can you help me with this?”

Gojo didn’t hesitate. "Oh, sure." He reached without a second thought, fingers brushing against Yuji’s neck as he fastened the collar, adjusting it just slightly to make sure it wasn’t too tight.

And just like that— The bickering stopped.

Gojo didn’t notice at first, but as he clicked the buckle into place, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye.

Megumi had paused mid-argument, his mouth slightly parted as he stared at them.

Gojo could see it so clearly. The flash of jealousy.

It was subtle, almost unnoticeable—but Gojo noticed everything about Megumi.

And so did Nobara.

Which was why, within seconds, she was marching over, shoving Gojo aside. “Move.” Gojo barely had time to step back before she grabbed Yuji’s collar, adjusting it herself. “I’m the one who should be doing this, anyway,” she huffed.

Yuji just blinked, confused.

Gojo, meanwhile, grinned knowingly. His eyes flickered toward Megumi, who was pretending to be focused on literally anything else.

Gojo let his smirk soften. He’d tease Megumi later.

For now, he just reached out, brushing his fingers against Megumi’s wrist, just enough to get his attention.

Megumi glanced at him, his expression unreadable.

Gojo leaned in, voice low, just for him. “You’re cute when you’re jealous, sweetheart.”

Megumi scowled instantly. “Shut up."

Gojo just smiled. Because Megumi could deny it all he wanted—

But Gojo knew the truth.

*

The bonfire crackled warmly, casting its dancing glow over the gathering of doms and subs spread out across the sand.

Despite the inviting warmth, a chill settled deep in Megumi’s bones. Something felt off.

He wasn’t the only one who noticed.

Yuji gently grabbed Megumi's upper arm, waving toward the group sitting beside them. "These are the new friends I made! This is Hanta, and Yuki."

Megumi gave them each a nod. "Nice to meet you."

Beside him, Nobara shifted, her eyes flicking between the groups sitting around the fire as a camp counselor began making their way through the circle, handing small gift bags to the doms.

Curious, Nobara accepted hers first.

She opened it, peering inside—and her smile vanished instantly.

Gojo caught the shift in her expression, his usual easy demeanor dimming as he reached for his own bag and pulled it open.

His gaze swept the firelight-lit circle, taking in the reactions of the other groups, and what he saw only made his stomach tighten.

Across the fire, doms were already pulling out what was inside—gleaming silver collars, heavier than their previous ones, intricate and almost cruel in their craftsmanship.

They weren’t just collars. They were metal chokers, designed with claw-like pieces that would press harshly into the skin if tightened too much.

Nobara spoke up softly. "Gojo... What the fuck is this?"

"Just a bunch of bullshit, is what it is."

"I know that." She responded, but leaned toward him to speak a little softer. "But... What are we gonna do? We can't ask them to wear these."

Gojo didn't answer at first, he simply glanced around at the other members of the camp. Just to see what everyone else was thinking.

The doms around them looked thrilled.

An older dom grinned as he buckled his onto his sub, trailing his fingers over the cold metal in admiration.

Another dom held his up, turning it in his hands like a prized possession before fastening it onto his sub’s neck.

The subs, however, were silent. Expressionless.

Gojo let out a slow breath, clearing his throat as he gestured for Yuji and Megumi to come over.

They sat down in front of him and Nobara, still talking quietly, but the moment they noticed Gojo’s change in tone, their smiles faded.

Gojo opened his palm, revealing the collar resting in his hand. “They passed these out.”

Yuji and Megumi stared at it, unease matching in the way their eyes flickered over the cruel design.

Yuji’s reaction was more subtle, but Megumi caught the way his throat bobbed slightly when he swallowed.

Gojo turned toward Megumi, his voice gentler than before. “You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to.” He glanced at Yuji too, with the same expression. "That goes for you too."

Megumi knew Gojo meant it. That if he said no, Gojo would toss the collar into the lake immediately.

But every single sub around the fire was already wearing one.

He could feel eyes on him, waiting to see what he would do. If he refused, it would draw too much attention.

His fingers twitched against his knee, but he forced his expression to remain unreadable.

Yuji, picking up on his hesitation, did what he did best—he tried to make it easier.

"I don't mind. Go ahead." With a brave face, he leaned forward, tilting his head back slightly, offering his neck to Nobara.

She hesitated, her lips pressed into a thin line as she carefully switched his collar out, murmuring a quiet, guilty apology as she did.

Yuji just smiled. “Don’t worry, Nobu. It’s all gonna be fine.”

Megumi wasn’t so sure. But he took a deep breath and followed suit, leaning forward slightly, offering his neck.

Gojo was gentle, his fingers delicate as he unclasped the old collar.

Then—a quick, warm press of lips against the side of Megumi’s neck. It was so fast, so instinctive, that Megumi barely had time to process it before Gojo was already fastening the new collar, making sure it was as loose as possible.

Megumi stared at him, breath catching in his throat.

The way Gojo’s fingers lingered slightly against his skin, the way his eyes searched his face for any sign of discomfort— Megumi had never trusted anyone this much.

Gojo adjusted the buckle once more, his voice low, just for him. “You let me know if it gets uncomfortable, even for a split second, okay?"

Megumi just nodded. But he couldn’t ignore the discomfort wrapping around his throat like a chain. His fingers itched to pull at the metal, but before he had the chance—the meeting began.

He wanted to get close to Gojo, and he wanted to do good things that Gojo would like. Just... Not this.

Camp counselors took the center of the circle, announcing that dinner would be ready in just a few minutes, and that champagne and other drinks would be passed out any minute.

Then they began doing the same thing as they did previously. Pulling up groups of subs one by one to test their obedience, their commands met with applause, admiration, and eerie satisfaction.

Megumi felt Gojo’s hand on his waist, guiding him closer. He let himself be tucked between Gojo’s legs, leaning into him for support, his hands gripping Gojo’s thighs like an anchor.

Gojo leaned forward, whispering in his ear. “Strange that they aren’t mentioning the missing sub and dom, huh?”

Megumi hummed, his mind too heavy to give a real answer.

They watched as other groups took champagne, the groups becoming livelier and more excited as time went on.

Megumi was only safe for a few more minutes.

Then—the camp counselors waved him and Yuji forward.

Megumi and Yuji shared a look, both resigned to their fate.

They went through the motions, biting their tongues, obeying the commands given to them.

When it was finally over, Megumi let out a quiet breath, relieved to be walking back to his seat.

But just as they were about to sit down—a dom waved Yuji over with a pleased grin. “You’re gorgeous.”

Yuji chuckled, rubbing the back of his head. “Ah, thanks.”

Megumi stayed beside him, keeping close, just in case.

Then, a dom who seemed a little too drunk reached out, hooking a finger under Megumi’s collar.

The sharp tug forced him forward, and the dom leaned in, his voice low, slurring slightly. “You’re beautifully obedient.” A pause. “Your dom must be proud.”

Megumi’s hand shot up, but before he could yank himself away—a shadow loomed.

Gojo.

Gojo's hand clamped down, grabbing the dom’s wrist in a bruising grip as he yanked it away from Megumi's neck. The air felt heavy as Megumi watched him take control of the situation.

Gojo’s voice was quiet, but cold. “If you ever touch my sub again, I'll take your arms off. And I'm serious. If you ever hurt him... Hell, if you so much as hurt his feelings, I'll be there. You got me?"

His grip tightened, and the other dom winced, eyes widening.

The threat was too calm, too casual. But it was deadly.

The dom nodded once, but Gojo didn't let go of his arm.

Gojo gestured vaguely toward Megumi. "Be a man and apologize."

The drunk dom swallowed hard, his smug expression crumbling. "I'm sorry."

"Good boy." Gojo taunted as he let go—then he turned immediately, grabbing Megumi’s hand to lead him away.

Megumi let himself be pulled along, his heart pounding.

Then, as soon as they were clear, he leaned up, his voice small, breath shaky. “Starlight.”

Gojo stilled, but immediately nodded, his hand pressing against Megumi’s back to keep him steady.

He turned back toward Nobara and Yuji. “You two okay if I take him back?”

Nobara’s expression softened instantly. “Yeah, of course. Just text me, okay?”

Gojo flashed his smile at her. "Will do. Keep our Yuji safe, alright? Make sure to eat some dinner."

"Copy."

Gojo nodded, pulling Megumi closer as they walked away. Megumi felt like he could finally breathe.

Because he had never used the safe word before, and honestly he'd felt a little embarrassed about it before today.

But tonight—he was so, so grateful that he had it.

***

Chapter Text

The walk back to the cabin was silent.

The only sound was the soft rustling of leaves, the distant crackling of the bonfire behind them, and the quiet crunch of their footsteps on the trail.

Gojo kept one arm wrapped around Megumi, holding him close, protective, his pace steady, unrushed.

Megumi didn’t say a word.

And Gojo didn’t push him to.

He knew Megumi was trying to forget what had just happened.

Trying to bury it deep before it could settle too heavily in his bones.

By the time they reached the cabin, Megumi still hadn’t spoken, but Gojo felt the smallest sigh leave him when they finally stepped inside.

Gojo locked the door immediately, double-checking it before turning toward Megumi.

His voice was soft, careful. “Can I take that terrible thing off of you?”

Megumi nodded instantly, stepping forward without hesitation and turning his back to him.

Gojo reached up, fingers light as he brushed against the clasp at the back of Megumi’s neck.

He was delicate, barely even pulling on the metal, but the second Megumi felt the tug, his body tensed sharply.

His hands flew up, gripping the metal tightly, his voice snapping out before he could stop himself. “Goddamn-- Can you be fuckin' careful?"

Gojo froze. Not because Megumi had snapped at him—but because when he glanced down, he saw that Megumi’s hands were shaking.

Megumi must have noticed too, because his fingers curled harder around the metal, as if trying to will them still.

Gojo’s chest ached, because he hated this. Hated seeing Megumi like this.

He wasn’t going to let him stay in this panicked, trapped feeling for another second.

Gojo took a deep breath and apologized. "Just hang in there one more second, baby."

And without another word, Gojo simply snapped the metal between his fingers.

The collar broke apart easily, the sound of splitting metal sharp in the silence.

It clattered to the floor, and Gojo didn’t give Megumi a chance to react before he was pulling him into his arms from behind.

One arm wrapped tightly around Megumi’s waist, the other slipping across his chest, Gojo’s face buried against the side of Megumi’s head.

His voice was low, soothing, directly against Megumi’s ear. “It’s okay. You're safe, Megumi."

Megumi’s breath hitched, and Gojo held him firmer.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m sorry.” Gojo gave him a small smile. "Forgive me?"

Megumi squeezed his eyes shut, his hands gripping Gojo’s arms where they were wrapped around him. "I forgive you."

Gojo only paused for a moment, before he asked. "You don't have to talk about it now, if you don't want to. But... Are you okay?"

For a second there, Megumi thought he was going to fall apart.

But Gojo was there. Like he always was. 

Megumi's body relaxed against Gojo’s chest. His breathing evened out, and after a moment, he nodded weakly.

Gojo felt it. Felt him finally release the tension that had been holding him too tightly.

But Gojo didn’t let go.

Not until Megumi was ready.

*

The bonfire crackled warmly, sending golden embers drifting into the night sky, flickering against the dark lake.

Nobara and Yuji sat together on their blanket, watching as yet another round of subs stood up to obey whatever Command was thrown their way.

The whole event had started to feel repetitive, the same applause, the same praise, the same uncomfortable display of obedience.

Nobara tried to keep her expression neutral, but she knew Yuji could see right through her.

Still, he hadn’t commented on it.

Instead, he had finished his own dinner, and now he was picking pieces of fish off her plate, nibbling on them without hesitation.

Nobara didn’t mind.

She just ate what was left, not bothering to scold him like she usually would.

Because, truthfully, she didn’t have it in her tonight.

There was something about this camp, something dark and unsettling—and as much as Nobara liked to act like she had everything under control, even she felt the weight of it.

Yuji, for all his cheerfulness, had been so brave this entire time.

And she was so proud of him.

So, if stealing half her dinner made him feel even a little bit better, then fine.

Let him eat.

Yuji, however, seemed preoccupied, still chewing absently as he leaned toward her, his voice quieter than usual. "I’m worried about Fushiguro."

Nobara didn’t hesitate.

"He’s one of the strongest, most stubborn men in our lives. He'll be okay." She kept her voice steady, firm, as if saying it would make it real. “If Megumi were here, he’d want us to keep investigating. And he'd probably insult us for fussing over him."

Yuji let out a soft sigh, his fingers twisting slightly into the fabric of the blanket. He nodded slowly. "Yeah. I guess."

It didn’t stop the worry from gnawing at him, but it was enough to keep him going.

Just as he was about to say something else, the camp counselor got back up, clearing his throat and calling for attention.

Yuji’s brows furrowed slightly, his focus shifting as he listened.

"Tomorrow, we’ll be hosting a special event in the dining hall, as we approach the final days of our retreat. It's a little bit of a surprise, but I hope it'll be exciting for everyone."

Yuji glanced at Nobara with a small smile, whispering to her. "The hell does that mean?"

Nobara shrugged, returning his smile, although she felt a little uncertain. "Who knows?"

The announcement was brief, the details intentionally vague, as if the counselor wanted the element of surprise to linger.

But Nobara felt uneasy.

When the meeting finally ended, the pair sitting beside them—Hanta and Yuki—turned toward Yuji, smiling warmly.

"Will we see you tomorrow?" Yuki asked.

Yuji’s face brightened immediately, his usual sunny personality shining through. "Yeah, of course."

Nobara gave them a small wave, watching as they dispersed, the bonfire slowly dying down as more and more pairs and groups left.

She turned toward Yuji, grinning slightly. "I’m glad you’re making friends. It comes easy to you, huh?"

"I guess so." Yuji shrugged, staring out at the water, his eyes reflecting the light of the moon. "They seem nice."

Nobara watched him for a second, before tilting her head toward the lake. She just wanted to make him smile. "You wanna go?"

Yuji’s eyes lit up immediately, grabbing her wrist eagerly. "Can we? Just for a second?"

She didn’t even hesitate. "Yeah. Let’s go."

*

Nobara sat in the sand, letting the warmth of the bonfire sink into her skin, her arms stretched behind her as she leaned back, watching Yuji splash around in the shallows.

He was kicking at the water playfully, sending ripples across the lake, his laughter soft and carefree.

Nobara smiled faintly, watching him, but there was an undercurrent of unease in her chest that she couldn’t shake.

Something about this place—this entire trip—felt like it was building toward something terrible.

Yuji eventually made his way back to her, shaking the water from his arms before plopping down beside her in the sand.

"It’s so nice out tonight," he murmured, tipping his head back to admire the moon.

Nobara followed his gaze.

The sky stretched out above them, endless and star-speckled, the moon casting a soft, silver glow over the dark waves.

"Yeah," she said softly, tucking her knees up toward her chest. "It really is."

Yuji started pulling his socks and shoes back on, holding out his red hoodie toward her because she looked cold. 

Nobara quickly took it and threw it on, giving him a small smile. "Thanks."

She had been sure to sit down near the fire, but it was still getting a little cold outside. 

They sat in companionable silence, letting the sounds of the crackling bonfire and the gentle lapping of the lake fill the air.

But then, they heard voices. 

Low.

Serious.

Just on the other side of the bonfire.

Nobara barely registered them at first, too focused on the peaceful moment, but then she caught a few words that made her blood run cold.

"The next few days are crucial."

Nobara froze, realizing that she knew that voice. That creepy ass woman from the forest, Yamika.

"We need to secure a few more subs to meet the demand of our buyers. Otherwise, we'll have to work harder next week."

Nobara felt her entire body go rigid.

Yuji heard it too.

She could tell because his fingers twitched, his body suddenly tense beside her.

Without looking at him, she felt him shift closer, and then he grabbed her hand.

It wasn’t a dramatic gesture, wasn’t meant for comfort or reassurance.

It was just silent understanding.

They both knew that this was bad.

Really bad.

They couldn’t afford to be noticed, but they needed to get out of here.

Nobara kept her gaze fixed on the moon, her breathing steady, as if she hadn’t just heard the most disturbing conversation of her life.

She could feel Yuji doing the same, his posture relaxed, his fingers warm around hers—but she knew his pulse was racing.

Knew that his mind was spinning the same way hers was.

Yuji whispered to her, as quiet as he could. "Do you recognize that voice? Is that her?"

"Yes."

"So why don't we just... Fight them? Text Gojo to meet us, and let's just jump on it."

Nobara flashed him a look, and Yuji could see the fear on her face. She whispered back. "We can't."

"But why? They keep slipping through our fingers, but they're right here in front of us."

"We don't know anything about them." Nobara reminded him. "What if Yamika is a human-looking curse? What if she's just a terrible person? We can't jump in without knowing."

"Shouldn't we just try and--?"

"Lower your voice." She whispered harshly. "I'm not letting you fight shit until you've got your suppressants back."

"But I can do it if you just let me--"

"This isn't a debate. It's not safe, so just... Hush."

They needed to get out of here.

*

Gojo didn’t hesitate to follow Megumi into the bathroom. He wasn’t letting him out of his sight. Not after tonight.

Megumi hadn’t protested when Gojo trailed behind him, but he had shot him a mildly exasperated look, as if reading his mind and knowing that Gojo wasn’t about to let him shower alone.

"Do you mind if I'm in there, or do you just want me to wait out here?"

Megumi thought about it for a second, but he figured either way would make him uncomfortable. "I... If you wanna come with me, that's fine."

"You sure?"

"Just... Stop questioning me."

The bathroom was small, just enough space for the both of them.

Gojo tugged his shirt over his head, tossing it toward the counter. "If this gets too weird, just kick me out, okay?"

"Whatever."

Gojo left his blindfold on, standing in nothing but his underwear as he waited for Megumi to do the same.

Megumi turned slightly away, hands resting on the hem of his shirt, but hesitating before he pulled it over his head.

Gojo didn’t comment.

Instead, he hopped into the shower first, testing the temperature as warm water pelted against his back. “It's warm, Megs. Whenever you're ready.” His voice came through the steam, casual, lighthearted, like this was just another normal day.

Megumi took a deep breath, peeling his shirt off and slipping out of his pants, his heart pounding in his chest. 

Was he ready to be completely bare in front of Gojo? Not really. But a blindfolded Gojo? It was only moderately better, but Megumi was trying to be optimistic.

Megumi finally sighed, and pulled off his underwear, leaving them nearby the shower door in case he got nervous and wanted them back.

He stepped into the shower slowly, trying to calm himself down.

This was fine.

It wasn’t like Gojo was watching him.

He was being respectful—leaving his blindfold firmly in place, keeping the air light and teasing as Megumi focused on scrubbing himself down.

But even still, Megumi could feel a prickle of nerves crawl up his spine.

It wasn’t Gojo’s fault.

It was just—

Intimate.

Even if it wasn’t meant to be.

Once he was satisfied that he was clean, he turned toward Gojo. “Alright, your turn,” he said, reaching out to tap Gojo’s arm.

"If you're sure." Gojo tilted his head, his grin lopsided. “I'm gonna take my undies off, okay? Don't stare."

"I'm sure." Megumi exhaled through his nose. "And nobody's staring at your pale ass." His voice was as confident as he could manage.

Gojo could only giggle. "Oh please. You love this ass."

He reached for the waistband of his briefs, pulling them off before stepping fully under the spray.

At the same time, Megumi reached out of the shower, quickly grabbing his own briefs and slipping them back on.

Gojo's confidence was just too intimidating for Megumi to deal with.

Gojo either didn't notice or didn't mention it, he just stood under the water, tipping his head back as warm droplets ran down his face and chest.

Until he decided to say something. “Hey, Meggie?”

Megumi bristled at the nickname but turned toward him anyway.

Gojo’s voice was smooth, easy. “You mind shampooing my hair? Y’know—” he lifted his hand, wiggling his fingers dramatically, “since I can’t see.”

"Alright. Enough." Megumi sighed, but it wasn’t exasperated this time.

It was fond.

Instead of answering the question, he stepped forward, reaching for Gojo’s blindfold.

The moment his fingers tugged at it, Gojo’s hands flew up, grabbing the fabric instantly.

“Hey, hey—” Gojo's voice was panicked, “what are you doing?”

Megumi just shook his head, tugging the blindfold down to Gojo’s neck.

He met his eyes, steady, serious. “This is just--It's stupid. I'm not afraid of you, you don't need to stand here blind."

Gojo blinked at him, lips parting slightly, caught off guard.

Megumi’s voice softened. “I trust you, Satoru.” 

The moment hung between them, heavy and full of meaning, before Gojo finally let the blindfold drop, his shoulders relaxing.

Gojo spoke softly in return. "Well, thank goodness. Because you're an absolute vision."

His eyes trailed downward, taking in Megumi’s torso, the way his clear, pale skin glistened under the water.

He couldn’t help it.

Megumi noticed immediately. His brows furrowed sharply, his hand snapping up to smack Gojo’s chest. “Focus.”

Gojo laughed, unfazed, but let himself be shoved under the spray, his hands lifting in surrender.

Megumi rolled his eyes, but reached for the bottle of shampoo, squeezing some into his palm.

Without hesitation, he lathered his own hair first, rubbing it in quick, practiced motions, before stepping closer to massage the rest into Gojo’s hair.

Gojo’s hands instinctively found Megumi’s upper arms, steadying himself as fingers ran through his scalp.

His gaze never left Megumi’s face, scanning those beautiful, sharp features.

He knew Megumi didn’t think of himself the way Gojo did.

Megumi had never been one to care about his appearance, never really considered himself attractive, remarkable, worth looking at.

But Gojo knew better.

He had always known.

And standing here, with Megumi’s hands in his hair, his expression calm, content, at ease for the first time all night. Megumi truly was beautiful.

Megumi caught the way Gojo was watching him, something gentle and unreadable in his expression.

His cheeks burned, his fingers tightening slightly in his hair.

“What?” Megumi grumbled, refusing to look at him.

Gojo smiled, giving his arms a soft squeeze. “Nothing.”

*

The steam from the shower still clung to the air as Gojo grabbed a towel, stepping forward to wrap it around Megumi’s waist first before doing the same for himself.

Megumi let out a slow, measured sigh, his shoulders finally dropping, tension releasing from his body.

He felt safe.

Because Gojo was here. Watching out for him.

Like always. 

Megumi reached for Gojo’s wrist, holding it gently. "Thank you," he murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

Gojo tilted his head, a soft smile curling at the edges of his lips. "For what?"

Megumi met his eyes, holding his gaze firmly. "Nothing, just... Thanks for always being so patient with me."

Gojo didn’t need to respond. The fondness in his expression said everything.

Instead, he stepped closer, studying Megumi’s neck, his fingers lightly trailing just above his skin, careful not to touch too much.

Megumi stood still, watching him.

Gojo’s brows furrowed slightly in concentration, checking for any bruising, any marks from that damn metal collar.

Thankfully, there was nothing.

Satisfied, Gojo finally looked up. "You've got such nice skin, Megs. I'd have been so mad if that collar left a scratch on you."

And Megumi felt his breath catch. With their faces so close, with Gojo’s white hair damp and messy, strands falling into his eyes—

He looked adorable.

Megumi wasn’t thinking when he leaned up, his lips tentative, cautious, pressing against Gojo’s softly.

Gojo froze, startled for just a second, before his hand slid over the back of Megumi’s neck, pulling him in and kissing him back.

Megumi’s fingers gripped Gojo’s hips, holding onto him tightly.

Gojo let out a soft, pleased hum against his mouth, then, without breaking the kiss, he gave Megumi a gentle push toward the bathroom counter.

"Hey, babe." Gojo mumbled softly to him. "Jump."

Megumi followed easily, letting himself be lifted onto the cool surface, his towel shifting slightly as Gojo stepped between his legs.

Gojo broke the kiss just to glance down at Megumi's towel, making sure it was still secured around his hips, now that he was sitting on the bathroom counter.

He glanced up to wink at Megumi, before slowly leaning forward to capture his lips once again.

The kiss deepened, and Gojo’s hands slid up Megumi’s thighs, fingers pressing, caressing, warm and steadying.

Megumi tilted his head back, letting himself melt into it, lost in the heat of Gojo’s mouth, the way he tasted, the way he held him.

Gojo was everywhere.

And Megumi—

Megumi wanted to drown in him.

But then Gojo’s fingers found the edge of his towel.

His touch wasn’t rushed—just curious, questioning, waiting for permission.

And that was when reality slammed into Megumi like a wave.

His stomach twisted, a flicker of uncertainty making his breath stutter against Gojo’s lips. "Wait."

Gojo pulled back immediately, just enough to search Megumi’s face, his hands still resting carefully on his thighs.

Megumi’s voice was small, hesitant when he finally whispered, "I’m not ready."

Gojo stilled—but there was no disappointment on his face.

Only understanding.

His hand lifted slowly, fingers brushing against Megumi’s cheekbone, his thumb tracing a gentle line along his jaw.

"That’s okay, baby," he said softly, sincerely.

Megumi swallowed, his fingers twitching against Gojo’s hips. "I’m sorry," he murmured.

"No, no." Gojo frowned, shaking his head. "Don’t ever apologize for that."

Megumi finally met his eyes.

Gojo’s gaze was warm, patient, unwavering. "I can wait, Megs." His voice dropped to something softer, something almost reverent. "I didn't mean to push you."

Megumi felt his chest tighten—not in a way that was painful, but in a way that made his heart ache with something overwhelming, something indescribable.

Like he wanted to hold onto this man forever, and never let him go.

***

Chapter Text

The cabin was quiet, filled only with the soft rustling of pages as Megumi idly turned another page of his book.

Gojo lay sprawled across the couch, his head resting comfortably in Megumi’s lap, staring intently at his phone screen.

His fingers drummed against the back of his phone.

No response.

Not from Yuji.

Not from Nobara.

Gojo wasn’t the worrying type—but something felt off.

"They’ll text back," Megumi murmured, not looking up from his book.

"I know. There's just something bothering me about this one." Gojo sighed, tilting his head to look up at him.

"You wanna talk about it?"

"No, no... Just. I have to tell you something later. Don't let me forget."

"Got it."

Megumi’s hair was slightly damp, still air-drying from the shower, and his fingers absentmindedly ran through Gojo’s own damp hair, a soft, rhythmic motion.

Gojo let himself melt into it, eyes slipping shut for a moment.

He could stay like this forever.

"Oh." Gojo suddenly cleared his throat. "Here they come."

Gojo sat bolt upright, just as the door suddenly burst open.

Yuji and Nobara rushed inside, quickly locking it behind them, breathless and wide-eyed.

Yuji immediately moved to turn off all the lights, while Nobara peeked out the window, making sure nobody had followed them.

Megumi set his book down, body tensing as he sat forward.

Gojo stared at them, arms crossed, voice calm despite the chaos. "What the fuck are you two doing?"

Yuji tried to rush through the story, voice spilling out frantically. "We heard Yamika talking—She’s involved in some kind of human trafficking ring—They’re taking subs, selling them—It’s worse than we thought—we have to do something—"

Gojo stopped him immediately, hands reaching out in the dark to grip Yuji’s arms, holding him for a moment.

"Slow down, Yuji. You're going a mile a minute."

Yuji shuddered, breathing heavy, but nodded.

Gojo’s grip eased, giving his arms a reassuring squeeze before letting go.

Megumi leaned forward, his voice steady as he squinted in the dark. "What exactly did you hear?"

Nobara joined the conversation, arms crossed tightly over her chest, her voice low and serious. "Gojo, I know you're not supposed to intervene, but I need you to meet her so you can tell me what she is."

Gojo raised an eyebrow.

Nobara continued, "When she spoke to me in the woods earlier, she had a good amount of cursed energy. Not enough to be a curse herself, but… I think she’s being influenced by one."

Yuji asked her softly. "Wouldn't Gojo have seen her already though? If she had energy like that?"

Megumi’s stepped closer. "You think a curse is helping her?"

"Or controlling her," Nobara corrected. "Influencing her."

"It would explain the teleportation, the illusions," Megumi muttered, connecting the pieces. "If she's learning it from someone else."

Before Gojo could comment, Yuji jumped in again.

"Then let’s go right now," he said firmly. "We know where they are. If we strike first, we can stop this before anyone else gets taken."

Nobara immediately spun toward him, voice sharp. "Knock it off, Itadori. I'm not letting you fight without your pills. And that's final."

Yuji opened his mouth to argue, but Nobara cut him off. "But I--"

"You’re vulnerable. You can’t fight if someone Commands you to stop breathing. I’m not risking that."

Gojo finally stepped in, voice firm. "Enough."

The group fell silent, waiting for him to speak.

Gojo exhaled, gripping Megumi’s hand behind him without even realizing it—just needing to keep track of him.

"Okay, here’s the plan," he started. "I’m going to sneak into the office cabin and grab the suppressants. Once Yuji and Megumi have taken them, we can--"

Gojo stopped mid-sentence. His entire body went rigid.

Megumi stiffened immediately, picking up on it. "What’s wrong?"

Gojo didn’t answer at first, his head turning slightly toward the window, as if listening for something only he could hear.

"It’s nearby. Whatever it is."

Megumi’s breath hitched.

Yuji and Nobara froze.

"What do you think it is?" Nobara whispered.

Gojo turned, expression dead serious. "I’ve been suspicious this whole time. But I think I figured it out."

The cabin fell into absolute silence.

And for the first time since this mission started, Gojo looked genuinely worried.

*

The room was tense, heavy with anticipation, as Gojo crouched toward the window, peeking through the blinds with sharp, unwavering focus.

The others followed suit—hovering close, waiting for his assessment.

"I was given pretty strict instructions," Gojo muttered, eyes flickering across the dimly lit campground, "not to intervene unless absolutely necessary."

Megumi, Nobara, and Yuji exchanged glances.

"But," Gojo continued, his voice light, almost playful despite the tension, "you know I’m not just gonna sit here and let any of you get hurt."

Yuji crouched down beside him, his fingers gripping the windowsill as he strained to see what Gojo was seeing.

"Do you actually see anything out there?" Yuji whispered.

Megumi and Nobara followed suit, all of them crowding around the window, trying to get a better view.

Gojo didn’t move for a moment. His gaze remained sharp, calculating. "Not yet," he muttered.

Nobara nudged him with her elbow. "Then turn those damn high beams off. Your bright-ass eyes are giving us away."

Gojo huffed a quiet laugh, leaning slightly back from the window.

Before he could respond, Megumi cut in, voice calm but firm. "It won’t matter."

Nobara glanced at him, raising a brow.

Megumi continued, "Yamika can teleport. We won’t see her coming either way."

Gojo finally leaned away from the window, exhaling. "Alright." He turned to them, his expression shifting to something serious. "I want you guys to stay put until I get back."

Yuji’s head snapped up immediately. "What? No—I'm coming with you."

Gojo shook his head, already expecting the protest. "I’ll be faster on my own." He looked at Yuji, expression softening just slightly. "You trust me, don’t you?"

Yuji hesitated. Then he sighed, muttering, "Yeah, of course I do."

"Be brave, okay?" Gojo smiled, ruffling Yuji’s hair before turning toward Nobara. "Think you can handle things until I’m back?"

Nobara huffed, rolling her eyes. "Please. I can handle these idiots in my sleep."

Gojo grinned, giving her an approving nod. "That’s my girl. Remember what I taught you."

Then, with effortless ease, he shifted, and gave Yuji a firm smack on the arm.

He turned to Megumi, pressed a quick, fleeting kiss to Megumi’s lips, and gave him a smile too. "Rely on your strengths, okay?"

Megumi was the first to squint at him. "Why are you talking like that?"

Gojo straightened up, flashing them a casual two-fingered wave as he headed toward the door. "Be safe. I’ll be right back."

The door clicked shut behind him, and almost immediately, the three of them rushed back to the window.

They watched as Gojo moved through the shadows, his form almost too fluid, too natural, like he was built to exist in places he wasn’t supposed to be.

Just before disappearing from sight, Gojo paused, turned slightly and lifted his hand in a thumbs-up, knowing damn well they were watching.

Yuji snickered, shaking his head.

Megumi voiced his concerns again. "Okay, so nobody else is weirded out by that?"

Nobara agreed. "No, that was weird. The fuck is his problem?"

Megumi let out a long exhale, finally leaning back from the window.

He ran a hand through his hair, ready to relax for even a second, and then—

A voice, smooth and bored, sighed from behind him.

"Thank god the big guy is gone. Right, Dokuya?"

Megumi’s heart nearly stopped.

His entire body went rigid as a wave of icy panic washed over him, as somebody clicked the lights back on.

He spun around immediately, and there, leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed loosely, stood Yamika and a redheaded man beside her.

A slow, dangerous smile stretched across her lips. "Now we can really talk."

*

The tension in the room snapped like a live wire, crackling thick and suffocating as Yamika’s smirk curled with dangerous amusement.

Nobara moved first, yanking Megumi closer to her instinctively, already calculating a plan in her head.

Yuji barely had time to react, his senses screaming too late— A large hand gripped his shoulder from behind.

Yuji’s body moved on instinct, twisting, striking, landing a solid punch straight to the man’s ribs, but Dokuya barely flinched.

"Sit down on the couch." Yamika’s voice rang out, laced with Command, effortless and absolute.

Yuji and Megumi’s bodies betrayed them instantly.

They collapsed onto the couch, muscles locking into paralyzing obedience.

Yamika winked at Megumi. "Don't move. Either of you."

Megumi’s heart hammered against his ribs, panic spiking in his chest, his body completely unresponsive to his will.

Across from him, Yuji’s breath came out harsh and furious, his body vibrating with resistance—but he couldn’t move.

Yamika turned toward Nobara, casually brushing her hands off, her tone mockingly gentle. "You’re free to go, my dear."

Nobara stiffened, fists clenching. "What?"

Yamika tilted her head. "I’m not interested in you. Just these two. Leave, and I won’t bother you."

Yuji's stomach lurched, but his voice came out steady. "Go, Nobara."

Nobara snapped her head toward him, eyes blazing. "No fucking way."

Yamika laughed. "You guys really are adorable," she mused, amusement dancing in her tone.

Nobara tried to issue a Command to combat the one in place. "You two, stan--"

She was interrupted by a sharp movement.

Dokuya’s arm shot out like a viper, jamming a needle straight into Nobara’s neck.

She gasped, a bitter curse falling from her lips as her knees buckled.

She hit the ground, her hands twitching as she fought against the sedative, her vision swimming in and out of focus.

Yuji gritted his teeth, rage boiling beneath his skin. His fingers twitched, his muscles straining against the Command.

"You’re cowards," Megumi spat, his voice shaking with anger. "Too afraid to fight us fairly."

Yamika didn’t even look at him. "It would be a waste of my time to fight a sub."

Yuji spoke up too. "For someone who thinks that subs are weak, you certainly didn't waste time cheating just to beat us."

Dokuya wasn't speaking as he prepared another needle full of what appeared to be another sedative. He was wordlessly walking over to Megumi, flicking the body of the needle as he went.

Yuji’s body jerked, his fists clenching—he had to move, he had to break free, he had to get up.

A voice, hoarse and quiet spoke up. "Stand up. Fight."

Yuji’s breath caught in his throat.

Nobara.

She was still on the floor, her head tilted to the side, barely conscious— But her voice carried the weight of a Command.

And Yuji obeyed.

His body broke free, his muscles snapped forward, and he immediately targeted Dokuya to keep him away from Megumi.

In the same moment, Megumi shot up, his heart pounding in his ears.

He had one second to react.

His eyes zeroed in on Yamika.

And he moved.

His fist slammed into her throat, a direct, devastating blow meant to silence her before she could speak another Command.

She staggered backward, choking on air, her hands flying up to her throat.

Megumi didn’t hesitate—he threw another punch, forcing her further away from Nobara’s body.

Meanwhile, Dokuya’s eyes flashed, his massive frame moving to counterattack—but Yuji was already on him.

A sharp kick to the ribs.

A rapid strike to the jaw.

Dokuya stumbled back, snarling.

Then the cabin erupted into chaos.

*

The fight was relentless. Yuji moved like a storm, every strike forcing Dokuya back as he tried to steer the battle away from Nobara’s unconscious form.

His chest burned with every breath, his muscles screaming with effort, but he wouldn’t let them get near her. Not while he still had strength to fight.

A sharp movement in his peripheral vision—Megumi, locked in a brutal clash with Yamika.

She was fast, relentless in her assault, but Megumi was smarter. He read her movements, countered her attacks, barely keeping himself from being overwhelmed.

His arms ached, sweat blurred his vision, but he refused to let up.

His only concern was where the fuck Gojo was.

Fingers twitching, he began forming the hand signs for one of his shikigami. Just one summoning—one decisive strike—

But Yamika was faster.

She twisted, sweeping his legs out from under him before he could react. His body slammed against the ground, air rushing from his lungs as pain exploded along his spine.

He barely had time to register the impact before Yamika loomed over him.

Then Yamika began to change.

Her face twisted, features blurring and reshaping, bones shifting under her skin like melting wax as one of her illusions took form.

Megumi’s pulse pounded in his ears, his mind screaming at him to move—to do something.

And then he was staring up at Gojo.

His throat went dry.

Gojo’s piercing blue eyes stared down at him, a slow smirk curling at the edges of his lips. But it wasn’t him. It couldn’t be.

“Come on, Megumi,” Yamika’s voice taunted, but it was Gojo’s voice that echoed in his ears, eerily perfect. “You’re really struggling that much? How disappointing."

Megumi’s hands clenched. He knew this wasn’t real, knew his brain was trying to tell him that, but it didn’t matter.

His instincts hesitated. His mind faltered. His muscles screamed in confusion.

He forced his hands into another sign, gathering energy for a summon—

But Yamika-Gojo moved first.

A glint of silver was all he saw. 

Megumi’s eyes widened, but before he could react, the blade drove down, piercing through the back of his hand.

Pain exploded through his nerves, white-hot agony spreading up his arm.

He gasped, but he didn’t hesitate. His free hand shot up, fingers wrapping around the handle of the knife.

With gritted teeth, he yanked it out in one brutal motion, the sting barely registering before he swung it straight for her face—

“Megumi, stop!" The voice was really Gojo this time, and the Command was real too. "Everybody back the fuck off."

Megumi's arm froze mid-swing. His mind reeled. His vision focused past Yamika-Gojo to the doorway.

The real Gojo stood there.

Time seemed to halt.

Yuji staggered back, breathing hard, his body still wound for battle.

Something in the air shifted. Something was off.

Dokuya and Yamika—who had been seconds away from pressing their advantage—stepped back without hesitation, their entire demeanor changing.

Yuji dropped to his knees beside Nobara, hands shaking as he pressed against her shoulders, trying to wake her. “Gojo, what the hell is going on?” His voice was raw with confusion.

"Sorry." Gojo ignored the question, quickly giving Megumi another Command. "Relax, Megs."

Megumi turned to Gojo, panting through clenched teeth, his heart slamming against his ribs. “Why aren’t you fighting them?” His voice cracked, rage and betrayal lacing every word.

Gojo didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he moved toward him, dropping to one knee, hands already reaching for Megumi’s bleeding hand.

His touch was firm but careful, his gaze scanning the damage.

Megumi flinched away. His mind scrambled to fit the pieces together.

Before he could demand answers, the front door swung open.

Megumi snapped his head toward it.

Panda walked in.

Then Inumaki.

Then Principal Yaga.

All of them were smiling.

“Congratulations,” Yaga said warmly.

Megumi’s world tilted.

Yuji looked just as lost, his body still tense, still ready to fight.

Inumaki rushed forward, dropping beside Nobara, gently shaking her awake.

Her eyes fluttered open, groggy and disoriented. “The hell…?”

Megumi’s breathing was shallow. His fingers trembled, stained with his own blood. His mind refused to catch up.

Gojo, still kneeling beside him, pulled a strip of cloth from his own shirt and began wrapping Megumi's hand. His movements were careful, his grip firm.

Megumi barely felt it. His focus was locked on Gojo’s face, searching for something—an answer, an explanation, anything.

“What…” His voice came out hoarse, barely above a whisper. “What the fuck is going on?”

His pleading eyes met Gojo’s.

Gojo hesitated, his expression full of internal conflict.

Then, finally, he sighed and leaned in, his voice low and reassuring. “It’s all okay, Megs. I promise."

His arms wrapped around Megumi, pulling him into a firm embrace.

“It was just a test. It’s over,” Gojo murmured.

Megumi’s body locked up, but Gojo’s warmth was real. Steady.

His scent was familiar, his presence grounding.

But Megumi couldn’t shake the sting of betrayal.

Because Gojo had known something.

And Gojo hadn’t told him.

***

Chapter Text

The air in the room was thick with something unspoken—a mixture of exhaustion, disbelief, and betrayal that none of them could quite shake.

Megumi held his injured hand close, the cloth wrapped tightly around his palm as he sat between Nobara and Yuji on the couch.

Across from them, Principal Yaga and Gojo stood together, the older man offering a carefully measured expression as he spoke.

Outside the cabin, Panda and Inumaki were laughing as they walked off with Yamika and Dokuya, their voices lighthearted—like they hadn’t just spent days tormenting them, tricking them, hurting them.

It felt so wrong.

None of it made sense.

"I’m sorry we deceived you," Yaga started, his voice even. "But this was a test mission. Every graduating class has one before they’re officially sent into the field. We spend so many years teaching you, and then suddenly you're given the dom/sub assignment. So the school likes to hand out one more mission, so you're fully ready for what it means to be a dom or sub sorcerer. And you've passed."

Yuji’s jaw tensed, his hands curling into fists against his knees. "A test?" His voice was tight, barely restrained. "You stabbed Megumi. You sedated Nobara. How the hell was any of that necessary?"

Yaga’s expression remained unreadable. "The threat had to feel real. We needed to see how you’d react under pressure. Yamika and Dokuya were given certain liberties to maintain the illusion."

Yuji let out a sharp breath, his shoulders tight with frustration. "That's not good enough. Yamika nearly suffocated Megumi before we could get to him. And what was the point of embarrassing us by giving us collars and making us kneel down in front of other people?"

Yaga nodded. "We needed you to be aware of the added dangers to your lives now that you and Megumi are a switch and a sub. You need to be aware of the extra threat."

Beside him, Nobara’s arms were crossed, her nails digging into her sleeves. She was staring at the floor, but when she spoke, her voice was sharp.

"So how exactly did we pass?" she asked, her tone edged with bitterness. "Because we didn’t win. We didn’t catch the ‘villains,’ we never figured out where the curse was, and we didn’t uncover anything about that damn trafficking ring we were worried about. So how is this a victory?"

Yaga tilted his head slightly, and finally, he answered. "Because this mission was never about the case. Which is why you were discouraged from using your cursed abilities, because they weren't the primary focus here."

Yuji, Nobara, and Megumi stilled, waiting for him to explain.

"It was about testing each of you on individual skills."

Yuji’s brows furrowed. "Testing us how?"

Yaga turned to him first. "For you, Yuji, the test was whether or not you could follow orders."

Yuji blinked, caught off guard.

"You have a reputation for acting on impulse," Yaga continued. "We needed to see if you could listen—even when your instincts told you to do the opposite. To trust, and listen to a dom's orders. And you did."

Yuji hesitated. He wanted to argue, but… He had listened.

He’d obeyed Gojo’s orders time and time again. Even when Nobara told him to stay put at the bonfire, he had.

But it didn't exactly make him feel better. 

Yaga moved on.

He turned to Nobara next. "Your test was different. You were tested on whether or not you could lead in a group full of subs."

Nobara’s eyes narrowed. "You think a woman can't lead?"

"Not me, but that's the test," Yaga answered simply. "Female doms are often overlooked as leaders in the sorcerer world. We wanted to see if you could hold your own—and you did. You took care of two strong sorcerers, keeping them safe, even without their suppressants to protect them."

Nobara exhaled slowly, her expression unreadable.

Then Yaga’s attention turned to Megumi.

Megumi, who had remained silent the entire time.

"And your test," Yaga said, voice calm, "was about whether or not you could overcome your tendency to overthink in battle."

Megumi’s fingers twitched against his wrapped-up hand.

"You doubt yourself, Megumi." Yaga continued. "And you always blame yourself when your friends are in danger. It affects your ability to fight."

Megumi stayed quiet.

"You proved yourself when you faced Yamika," Yaga said. "You didn’t hesitate. You acted quickly—and in doing so, you saved yourself and Yuji from being controlled. That’s why she transformed into other people, to distract you and—"

Megumi’s jaw clenched, and he stopped listening.

He was starting to understand.

The illusions. The knife. The Commands.

It had all been about fear. About making him face it.

But before he could process further, a different memory surfaced.

Yamika—standing in their cabin. A smile curling on her lips. 'Hold your breath.'

His stomach twisted violently.

Megumi interrupted him. "Then tell me what the hell that had to do with her Commanding me to stop breathing that day before the hike."

His voice was low, but sharp as a blade.

Yaga didn’t flinch. "She got a little carried away," he admitted. "But she was trying to instill fear. To make sure you truly believed the mission was real. Which is also why I installed Gojo into your mission. Like a safety."

Megumi’s blood practically boiled, he was so angry. That answer didn't make him feel better at all.

Slowly, he turned his head, his gaze falling on Gojo.

Gojo, who had remained silent this entire time.

Gojo, who had known something.

Gojo, who hadn’t told him.

"You should be proud of yourselves," Yaga said, his voice lighter now. "You’ve proven that you’re ready for real missions. Now, we’re heading back to the school. There’s a celebration waiting for you."

The room was deeply unhappy.

None of them felt like celebrating.

Yaga sighed, running a hand through his beard. "I know this was difficult," he admitted. "And I am sorry for deceiving you. But the world we’re sending you into is dangerous. We needed to be sure you were ready." He adjusted his coat. "Pack your things. I’ll bring the car around."

With that, he turned and left the cabin.

Silence filled the room.

Yuji opened his mouth, wanting to check on Megumi—

But Megumi was already moving.

Before anyone could stop him, he grabbed Gojo’s wrist, harshly yanking him toward the back room.

"We need to talk." Megumi practically barked at him.

Then, without waiting for permission, he pulled Gojo inside and slammed the door shut behind them.

*

Gojo barely had time to turn around before Megumi rounded on him, eyes blazing with fury.

"How long?"

His voice was sharp, barely restrained.

Gojo blinked. "How long what?"

Megumi took one step forward, his entire body tense. "How long did you know?"

Gojo sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Megs—"

"Don’t 'Megs' me." The words were practically a snarl, Megumi’s breath coming fast and uneven. "I trusted you. I told you—"

He stopped himself, gritting his teeth, his fingers curling into fists at his sides.

Gojo stayed quiet, watching him.

"I was vulnerable with you, Satoru." Megumi's voice shook, not with sadness, but with anger. "I told you how much I trusted you, how much I—" He clenched his jaw, his hands trembling. "And you still lied right to my face without hesitation."

Gojo exhaled slowly, keeping his voice even. "It wasn’t like that."

"Then what the hell was it like?"

Gojo’s lips pressed together before he spoke. "I knew about the test. But I didn't know that this mission was--"

That was a mistake.

Megumi’s anger only burned hotter at the sound of Gojo's voice.

"Was this some kind of test, too?" His voice was low, dangerous. "Was I just another thing for you to evaluate? Or do you actually have feelings for me?"

Gojo’s entire expression softened at that, his mouth parting slightly.

But Megumi wasn’t finished.

"And furthermore—" His voice shook, his breathing ragged. "Did the entire goddamn school watch us? Did they watch everything?"

Gojo winced.

He had to admit, that was a valid concern.

Megumi saw the hesitation and let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head as he ran a hand through his hair.

"Oh my god." Megumi sounded half in disbelief, half livid. "They did, didn’t they? That whole damn school watched you put a collar on me like it meant something. They watched us kiss and—"

Gojo held up a hand, trying to cut him off. "No, they—"

"They probably have notes on it," Megumi continued, voice dripping with bitterness. "Classified sorcerer documents labeled ‘Megumi’s pathetic little crush and how it affects his combat skills.’"

Gojo let out a small groan, running both hands down his face. "Megumi, please."

Megumi still wasn’t finished. "Was this just another one of your games?" His voice dropped lower, quieter, but it hit Gojo harder than anything else. "Was I just another way for you to pass the time since you were stuck on some fake ass mission with me?"

That was the moment Gojo finally reacted. "Megs, that's enough."

In one fluid motion, he sat down on the edge of the bed, his expression unreadable.

Then, he patted the space beside him.

"Sit."

Megumi glared. "No."

"Megumi."

"No."

Gojo sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "I’ll give you every single answer you want, but I need you to sit down."

Megumi didn’t move.

Gojo’s voice softened. "Please."

Megumi stayed where he was, his body tense, but after a moment, he crossed his arms. "Start talking."

Gojo ran a hand through his hair, looking up at him with an honesty that Megumi wasn’t expecting. "Nobody watched us. I promise. Yaga's opinions are purely based off of my progress reports. He only showed up today because I told him to. As soon as he told me this mission was the graduation test, I told him you three had already passed all his tests."

Megumi just stared at him, clearly not satisfied with that answer.

"More importantly, of course I have feelings for you."

Megumi’s breath caught, but he didn’t let himself react.

"That was never part of the mission," Gojo continued, his voice gentle but firm. "It wasn’t a game, it wasn’t a test, and it wasn’t something I did because the school told me to. I fell for you. That’s the truth."

Megumi’s stubborn heart skipped a beat.

But he didn’t let himself believe it yet.

"Then why lie to me?" he asked, voice quieter now.

Gojo leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, staring at the floor. "Because I was trying to help you graduate. Yaga assured me that this first mission wasn't the test, because it was too soon to do this to you three. But then he texted me telling me that everything had been a lie, and that I needed to go along with it."

Megumi’s stomach twisted at the look of him. He looked genuine, but Megumi was so confused, he didn't know what to think.

Gojo finally looked back up at him, his usual grin replaced by something softer. "I wasn’t allowed to tell you the truth." His voice was honest. "I didn’t want to lie to you. I hated it, Megumi. I hated seeing you scared and thinking you were in danger. I hate that you got hurt today... I saw Yaga in the forest, and thought I could speed up the test a little if I went and talked to him. I had no idea that Yamika would sneak in behind me."

Megumi’s throat tightened.

"I am so, so sorry. I should've told you." Gojo’s voice was sincere, his gaze holding nothing but regret. "If I could go back and change it, I would. But I can’t. I... I was just trying to do the right thing. I didn't want you to get in trouble, or not pass, just because I can't keep my mouth shut."

Megumi stared at him, arms still crossed tightly over his chest.

Gojo watched him, waiting.

Megumi could tell that he meant every word. But the betrayal still stung.

He didn’t know how to process it all.

His head was a mess.

His heart was a bigger mess.

But Gojo was still here.

Still looking at him like he was the most important thing in the world.

Megumi exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair as he turned away. "You piss me off," he muttered.

Gojo grinned, something warm and amused flashing in his eyes. "Yeah, I gathered that."

Megumi finally looked back at him, glaring. "Don't get cute. I’m trying to be mad at you."

Gojo’s grin widened. "Oh? You think I’m cute?"

"No." Megumi groaned, rubbing his face. "I hate you."

"You love me," Gojo corrected, his voice teasing but fond.

Megumi huffed, arms still crossed over his chest.

Gojo leaned in slightly. "Hey."

Megumi stared at him.

Gojo’s grin softened, turning into something smaller. "I meant what I said. I care about you, and... I'm falling for you more and more every single day. Just... Try to forgive me, okay?"

Megumi exhaled slowly, his anger dulling into something closer to exhaustion.

He didn’t want to let it go.

But he also couldn’t stay mad at Gojo forever.

Not when Gojo was looking at him like that.

"Fine," Megumi muttered, finally uncrossing his arms.

Gojo raised an eyebrow. "Fine?"

Megumi sighed deeply, before finally, reluctantly— He sat down beside him.

Gojo’s grin brightened instantly. "See? Was that so hard?"

Megumi rolled his eyes. "Don't push it."

Gojo nudged his shoulder. "You still hate me?"

Megumi didn’t answer.

But after a long moment, he muttered something under his breath.

Gojo tilted his head, grinning. "What was that?"

Megumi glared.

Then, after a pause, he mumbled again. "I don’t hate you."

*

The distant hum of the train engine vibrated through the air as the rest of their group boarded, Yuji waving dramatically out the window while Nobara flipped them off in an affectionate farewell.

Megumi rolled his eyes, watching them settle into their seats, before turning to Gojo. "We should probably—"

"We’re driving."

Megumi blinked. "What?"

Gojo stretched his arms over his head, grinning. "I already told Yaga. You and I have some things to talk about, so I’m taking you the whole way in his car."

Megumi frowned slightly, glancing toward the sleek black car parked near the lot. "You just don’t want to be on a train with other people."

Gojo gasped, pressing a hand to his chest. "You wound me, Megs. Is it so hard to believe I want some alone time with my favorite person?"

Megumi scoffed, but his face warmed slightly. "You’re unbearable."

"And yet, you agreed to be my boyfriend."

"Did I?" Megumi shook his head, picking up his bags and making his way to the car.

"My goodness, did I not ask you properly to be my boyfriend?" Gojo teased, before clearing his throat. 

Megumi looked over his shoulder to see Gojo slowly dropping down to one knee on the asphalt of the parking lot. 

Looking past him, Megumi could see his friends on the train rushing toward the back window, Nobara and Yuji shoving past everyone to see what was going on.

"You idiot." Megumi immediately surged forward to grab Gojo's upper arms, yanking him up off of the ground. "Stop messing around."

Gojo laughed, clearly enjoying how flustered Megumi was. "You're not gonna let me ask?"

"No. Just get your ass in the car." Megumi muttered, clearly embarrassed. 

Gojo followed with an easy satisfied grin, opening the passenger door for him before moving to the driver’s seat.

The first few minutes of the drive were silent, save for the faint hum of the tires rolling over the pavement.

Megumi leaned his elbow against the door, gazing absently out the window as the trees blurred past.

Gojo finally broke the silence, his voice softer than usual. "I’ll take you straight to Shoko when we get back. Get your hand healed up."

Megumi hummed in acknowledgment but didn’t look away from the window.

Gojo’s grip on the steering wheel tightened just slightly.

After another few moments of quiet, he reached over, his warm hand finding Megumi’s thigh, squeezing gently before resting there.

Megumi’s breath hitched—but he didn’t pull away.

Gojo’s voice was gentle when he spoke next. "I really am sorry."

Megumi finally turned to look at him, but Gojo’s eyes were still on the road, his usual carefree expression replaced.

"It killed me to keep that secret from you." Gojo exhaled through his nose, his fingers pressing into Megumi’s leg slightly. "But I was trying to help you. If I told you the truth, I would’ve gotten us both in trouble. I couldn’t do anything to jeopardize your graduation."

Megumi was quiet, watching the way Gojo’s brows pinched slightly as he spoke, guilt evident on his face.

Megumi sighed, finally turning away from him. "I forgive you."

Gojo blinked, his fingers twitching slightly against Megumi’s thigh. "You do?"

Megumi shrugged, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the bandage around his palm. "I mean, yeah. I’m mad at you. And it was messed up. But I know you were just trying to do the right thing."

Gojo let out a breath of relief, squeezing Megumi’s thigh once before returning his hand to the wheel.

Megumi stared at him for an extra second. "So... Are you gonna ask me, or what?"

"Ask you?" Gojo's face dawned with realization. "Oh. Yeah, I'll ask. But I wanna make it special, so it'll have to wait until later."

"Oh god." Megumi groaned. "Please don't do anything dramatic."

"Have you met me?"

Megumi could only roll his eyes.

The tension lifted just slightly.

For the rest of the drive, their conversation turned lighter, more comfortable.

Gojo asked, "So, now that you're officially a graduate, what’s the first thing you want to do? Take a break and travel, or just jump right in to the mission shit?"

Megumi tilted his head slightly. "I don’t know."

Gojo’s eyes flicked toward him. "No clue? Nothing you’ve been dying to do once you were finally free?"

Megumi sighed. "I guess I just... Never really thought I’d make it this far."

Gojo certainly understood that feeling. He nodded slowly, his fingers tapping against the wheel. "Yeah. I get that."

Megumi glanced at him, and for a moment, Gojo looked far away, like he was thinking about something Megumi couldn’t quite see.

After a moment, Gojo cleared his throat, glancing at him again. "Well..." His voice was lighter now, almost teasing. "If you’re not sure what to do next, how about you just stay at my place for the night?"

Megumi’s stomach flipped at the thought. He hesitated—but only for a second.

"Yeah." His voice was soft, but sure. "I’d like that."

***

Chapter Text

Gojo paced back and forth in Shoko’s office, arms crossed, radiating impatience.

Megumi, on the other hand, was completely calm, sitting on the cushioned chair beside her desk with his newly bandaged hand resting in her lap as she worked.

"You’re taking too long." Gojo groaned, rubbing his hands through his hair. "You can do this in seconds. Why are you dragging it out?"

"Worried much?" Shoko didn’t even look up from her work, but a small smirk played on her lips. "I’m making sure it heals properly. Stop acting like I’m amputating him."

Megumi sighed, barely tolerating their behavior.

Then, Shoko turned her sharp gaze on him, her smirk widening. "Hey... Blink twice if you’re being held against your will."

Megumi rolled his eyes. "I’m fine."

"Are you sure?" She tilted her head, voice full of mock concern. "Anybody brave enough to date Satoru should probably have a mental evaluation."

Gojo’s jaw dropped.

"Excuse you." He placed a hand over his chest, looking offended. "I am super hot, super nice, and super cool. Why is everyone always so mean to me?"

Megumi hid his smirk behind his hand.

Shoko didn’t let up. "I’m just saying, this isn’t your best decision, Megumi."

"Hey!" Gojo protested again.

Megumi chuckled, shaking his head as Shoko finally released his hand, satisfied with her work.

"Alright, you’re all patched up. Try not to get stabbed again for at least a week, okay?" she said.

Megumi flexed his fingers, relieved to feel normal again, no trace of pain left.

Gojo immediately swooped in, grabbing Megumi’s healed hand and pressing a dramatic kiss to his palm.

Megumi pulled his hand away, but there was no real annoyance on his face—just faint amusement.

"Alright, we’re stopping by the party for a little while, then heading to my place," Gojo declared, grabbing Megumi’s wrist and leading him out the door.

Shoko called after them, "Be safe, lovebirds."

Gojo laughed.

Megumi groaned.

*

The main hall was packed, music playing in the background as students chatted, laughed, and clinked glasses together.

The energy was high, a mix of celebration and friendly chaos.

Yuji and Nobara were already at the center of the crowd, both being congratulated left and right by their peers.

"Man," one of the students said, grinning at Yuji. "That's pretty fucked up, huh?"

"Yeah, it is," Yuji admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "I’m still kinda bitter about it."

Maki, standing nearby, snorted. "Oh yeah? You should’ve seen how pissed we were last year when they did it to us. They used to tell you in advance when the big mission was, but last year was the first year they kept it a secret."

Panda nodded in agreement, crossing his arms. "Maki tried to throw Yaga out of a window when she found out."

Maki shrugged. "I stand by that."

Nobara, still a little sour, leaned toward Maki. "Was there a fake human trafficking ring in yours? Or just us?"

Maki grimaced. "Yeah, that part was new. Kinda messed up, honestly."

"Super messed up," Yuji added, sighing dramatically. "The school might need to pay for my therapy."

Panda patted his shoulder. "Eh, you survived. And you’re officially a pro now! So, congratulations!"

Yuji perked up, grinning again. "Yeah, I guess that’s true."

A few minutes later, Gojo and Megumi had barely made it five steps into the party before Panda tackled them both in a crushing hug.

"You guys!" Panda boomed, lifting them slightly off the ground. "I’m so happy for you! I always knew it, I knew you’d be cute together!"

Gojo laughed, hugging him back, completely unbothered.

Megumi, however, was mortified. "Okay—okay, put me down."

Panda finally released them, but ruffled Megumi’s hair before stepping back.

"Seriously, though. I’m happy for you, man. You deserve it."

Megumi, still flustered, muttered a quiet, "Thanks."

They lingered by the food table, Megumi piling up his plate with food, taking full advantage of the free meal since he'd missed dinner.

Gojo leaned against the table beside him, stealing food off of Megumi’s plate without shame.

Megumi swatted at his hand, but didn’t stop him.

Then, after a few minutes, Megumi exhaled, setting down his drink. "We can't stay here too long, okay?"

"Why's that?" Gojo stepped closer with a teasing grin. "You excited to see my bedroom?"

Megumi smacked his shoulder once, before returning to the food on his plate. "No. I just... It's reminding me of the other party, and I didn't exactly have a good time, if you recall."

"Oh, oh... I forgot about that."

"Yeah well. I didn't." Megumi lowered his voice, avoiding Gojo's eyes. "That was the same day I realized I had a thing for you. Terrible, terrible day."

Gojo turned to him, interest piqued. "Oh? Is that so?"

Megumi hesitated for a moment, as if debating whether or not he should really say it out loud. "Yeah. I was crying and upset, and... You stayed with me. You didn't even hesitate."

Gojo’s smile softened, because yeah—he remembered.

Megumi had looked so lost that night, weighed down by emotions he never let anyone see.

Gojo had done the only thing he could think of—he pulled him away, brought him somewhere quiet, and stayed. For as long as Megumi needed.

"I remember." Gojo nodded.

Megumi turned his gaze to him, hesitant. "That’s when I realized it was you. It was always you. And... I wanted you to be mine."

Gojo sighed fondly, stepping closer and resting his forehead against Megumi’s.

"You know..." Gojo's voice was low, sincere. "I know you hate it when I say this, but you are absolutely adorable. Sweet, kind, and just... Beautiful."

Megumi’s breath hitched. "Knock it off."

"I can't." Gojo smiled. "You’ve always been so special to me."

*

The music thrummed through the room, a steady pulse of celebration that vibrated underfoot.

Laughter and conversation filled the space as students danced, ate, and soaked in the victory of their graduation.

Nobara barely had time to protest before Maki dragged her onto the dance floor, an arm hooked tightly around hers.

"Oh, come on, Kugisaki, don’t act like you’re too cool to dance," Maki teased, grinning as she pulled her along.

Nobara huffed but allowed it, rolling her eyes as Panda latched onto Yuji, shoving him playfully toward the center of the floor.

Yuji, always easygoing, didn’t need much encouragement. He laughed as he started moving with the music, quickly getting swept up in the energy of the other students dancing around them.

"I actually love this song," Yuji admitted, spinning Nobara once with a laugh.

Nobara snorted. "Of course you do. Because this song sucks."

Maki and Panda shared a laugh, Yuji completely unaffected by her comment.

Their earlier bitterness about the mission still lingered at the edges of their minds, but for now they let themselves have fun.

However, Megumi had no intentions of joining them.

He was perfectly content at the food table with Gojo, watching from the sidelines. That was, until—

A gentle hand wrapped around his wrist.

Megumi blinked, turning his head to see Inumaki standing beside him, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Salmon," Inumaki said with a slight tilt of his head, his grip firm but not forceful.

Megumi frowned instantly. "No."

Inumaki didn't care. He tugged harder.

"I said no."

Still, Inumaki dragged him a few steps forward, determined to get him on the dance floor.

Gojo chuckled, amused by the interaction, and leaned in toward Megumi. "Oh, come on, Megs. Live a little," he teased.

Megumi turned his glare on him, but Gojo’s bright grin and the encouragement in his voice made it impossible to refuse.

With a heavy sigh, Megumi let himself get dragged away.

Gojo smirked, watching as Inumaki practically shoved Megumi into Yuji's arms.

Yuji beamed. "Hey! You made it!"

Megumi crossed his arms, staying rooted in place. "I didn’t have a choice."

Yuji grinned. "That’s the spirit!"

Nobara, still dancing beside them, nudged Yuji. "Tell him to loosen up."

Yuji nodded once, then grabbed both of Megumi’s hands, attempting to force him into a two-step.

Megumi refused to move.

Yuji pouted. "Come on, at least try?"

Megumi just stood there, unimpressed. "Absolutely fucking not."

Gojo watched the whole thing fondly from the sidelines, his heart unexpectedly full.

Megumi still wasn’t dancing, but when Inumaki leaned into his ear and murmured something, and Yuji responded to whatever it was with a joke—

Megumi smiled.

A real smile.

Gojo felt his breath hitch.

God, he’s beautiful.

"I was worried I’d be too late."

Gojo blinked, pulled from his trance, and turned his head to see Nanami standing beside him.

"Oh hey!" Gojo grinned. "What are you doing here?"

Nanami sighed, adjusting his tie. "Celebrating the graduates, then leaving. You know I hate these things."

Gojo chuckled. "I do."

Nanami glanced toward the dance floor, his gaze landing on Yuji, Nobara, and Megumi laughing together.

Then, softly he asked, "You alright?"

Gojo paused.

Nanami had known him for years. And he knew when something was off.

Gojo tried to brush it off, but for once, the words didn’t come so easily.

Nanami caught it instantly. "You being speechless is deeply unsettling. Just tell me what’s on your mind."

"I'm just... Nervous."

"Bullshit. What could you possibly be nervous about?" Nanami teased.

Gojo exhaled through his nose, leaning against the table as he thought about how to say it. But he admitted, "I think I’m nervous about falling in love again."

Nanami stared.

Of all the things he’d expected Gojo to say—that wasn’t one of them.

Gojo still had a lopsided grin, but his voice was soft, uncertain.

Nanami sighed, rubbing his temple. "Let me go congratulate the kids, then we’re gonna talk. Somewhere private."

Gojo just nodded, watching as Nanami walked toward the dance floor, where Yuji immediately perked up upon seeing him.

Gojo could hear the excitement in Yuji’s voice from across the room.

"Nanami! You came!"

Gojo smiled. At least his students were finally getting the celebration that they deserved.

*

The night air was cool against their skin, a stark contrast to the warm, buzzing atmosphere of the party inside.

Gojo and Nanami sat side by side on the concrete steps, their shoulders relaxed as they talked in low voices, the soft hum of the city surrounding them.

Nanami mostly listened, letting Gojo ramble as he always did.

For once, though, Gojo’s words weren’t teasing or exaggerated for dramatic effect.

They were quiet, uncertain, and uncharacteristically honest.

Nanami took a slow sip from the bottle in his hand, considering everything Gojo had just confessed.

"So, you’re afraid," he said simply.

Gojo sighed. "Terrified."

Nanami hummed, watching the streetlights flicker across the pavement. "That’s good."

Gojo turned his head, raising a skeptical brow. "Good?"

"It means you really care about this one." Nanami glanced at him, voice steady. "And you’re not just chasing after something fleeting."

Gojo exhaled, tipping his head back to look at the sky. "Megumi’s different." His fingers curled against his knee. "He makes me want to do things right."

Nanami smirked slightly. "That’s a first."

Gojo rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t disagree.

Meanwhile, inside the party, the energy had shifted.

Students had abandoned the dance floor in favor of crowding around tables, drinks and snacks spread out in front of them as they retold stories from their recent mission.

Nobara was at the center of it all, animatedly recounting the chaotic fight with Yamika and Dokuya.

"I mean, it was insane," she said, gesturing wildly. "Megumi punched that bitch right in the throat. I could’ve cried from how proud I was when Yuji told me."

Panda and Maki leaned in, listening intently.

Yuji, sitting beside Megumi, leaned closer and asked in a softer voice, "How are you doing?"

"Tired." Megumi was honest. "I’m ready to go home."

Yuji nodded, then looked around the room for a moment. "Want help looking for Gojo?"

Megumi waved him off. "He’ll come back eventually."

Yuji didn’t budge. "Come on. You need a break from all this socializing anyway."

Megumi narrowed his eyes at him, but Yuji just smiled, because he was right.

After a moment, Megumi sighed, grateful for a friend who understood him so well.

Yuji nudged Nobara. "Be right back."

The two of them got up, weaving through the crowd.

Yuji was in his element, greeting everyone as they walked, waving and throwing smiles at anyone who called his name.

Megumi, on the other hand, walked in silence beside him, avoiding eye contact.

After a few minutes of fruitless searching, Yuji suggested, "Maybe he stepped outside to take a call or something."

Megumi hummed in agreement, and they headed for the door.

When they stepped outside, they spotted them instantly—Nanami and Gojo sitting on the steps, deep in conversation.

Megumi immediately turned to go back inside.

But, of course—

"Come on over, Megs." Gojo called without even turning his head.

Yuji grinned, skipping ahead to drop down beside Nanami. "Nanami! You walked away before I could ask. How’ve you been?"

Nanami gave him a small nod, voice even. "The same as always."

"Any new girlfriends?"

"Well..."

Yuji gasped dramatically, smacking Nanami's shoulder. "You sly dog! What's her name?"

Megumi hesitated, then sat on the step in front of Gojo, settling between his long legs.

Gojo leaned forward, draping an arm loosely around Megumi’s chest, pulling him back just slightly to murmur in his ear, "Ready to go home?"

Megumi nodded once. "Yeah, but… I didn’t want to interrupt."

Gojo shrugged, pressing his chin lightly against Megumi’s shoulder. "You’re more important."

They sat like that for another moment before Nanami finally stood, brushing invisible dust off his slacks.

"I’m heading out," he announced.

Gojo and Yuji got to their feet as well.

But as Megumi started to follow suit, Nanami nudged his arm. "A word?"

Gojo immediately whined. "You’re gonna go talk shit about me, aren’t you?"

Nanami didn’t even hesitate. "Exactly."

He led Megumi a few steps away, keeping his voice low enough that Gojo wouldn’t hear.

Megumi stared up at him anxiously, unsure what he might say.

"Are you serious about him?" Nanami asked firmly.

Megumi felt heat rise to his face. He shifted uncomfortably but managed a quiet, "Yeah."

Nanami wasn’t trying to embarrass him. His expression was calm, thoughtful. "I just needed to make sure. Because Gojo is very serious about you. And that's a big deal for him."

Megumi’s throat tightened. "Oh."

"It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him open up like this," Nanami continued, crossing his arms. "And contrary to popular belief, I don’t want to see him get hurt. I'm not trying to scare you off, but I want you to make sure that you're sure."

Megumi didn’t respond right away.

Nanami exhaled softly, his voice even quieter now. "Gojo was willing to die for his first love, Megumi."

Megumi could only nod. He wasn't sure what to say.

Nanami watched him, letting the words sink in.

"But for you, it’s different," Nanami said carefully. "For you, Gojo is terrified. Because he’s spent his whole life knowing that he was doomed, and constantly being ready to die. But you…" Nanami tilted his head slightly, voice barely above a whisper. "You made him want to live."

"Oh." Megumi’s chest tightened. "Are you... Are you sure?"

"I'm positive." Nanami clapped him once on the shoulder, then turned and walked away, leaving Megumi standing there alone with his thoughts.

Gojo called after him with a grin. "Tell me what you guys talked about!"

Nanami didn’t even look back. "Absolutely not."

Yuji snorted, and Gojo huffed dramatically.

Megumi, however, just stood there for a moment, trying to ignore the pounding in his chest.

Then Gojo slung an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close as they walked toward the car. "So, are you gonna tell me what Nanami said? Did he talk a bunch of shit?"

Megumi didn’t answer. He couldn't.

He didn’t trust himself to speak, and he seriously needed some time to think.

***

Chapter Text

The hum of the car engine filled the silence between them.

Gojo had one hand on the wheel, the other adjusting the radio as he flicked through stations, humming absently to himself. The sun had long since set, casting a dim glow over the road as they drove through the city.

Megumi sat in the passenger seat, his elbow propped up against the window, his fingers idly tapping against his cheek as he gazed out into the passing landscape.

The atmosphere was comfortable—a much-needed calm after everything they'd been through.

That was until Gojo gasped dramatically, gripping the steering wheel like he’d just had the biggest realization of his life.

"Oh my god," he blurted out, eyes going wide as he glanced at Megumi.

Megumi barely reacted, only offering the tiniest side-eye. "What."

"I need snacks."

Megumi sighed, already regretting agreeing to stay at Gojo’s place tonight. "Are you serious?"

"Dead serious." Gojo immediately veered into the parking lot of a small, dimly lit gas station, rolling the car to a stop by one of the pumps. "I physically cannot continue this drive without sugar in my system. It’s dangerous, Megs."

"What’s dangerous is the way you drive," Megumi muttered, unbuckling his seatbelt as Gojo hopped out to start pumping gas.

Gojo didn’t miss a beat. The moment he got the nozzle secured, he practically skipped over to Megumi’s side, tapping on the window like an impatient kid.

Megumi climbed out of the car easily, but his eyes widened when Gojo grabbed him in a tight hug, seemingly out of nowhere. 

Megumi teased him. "You okay, big guy?"

"Sorry, babe." Gojo hummed, burying his nose into Megumi's shoulder. "You can't come with me. You smell too good."

"The hell?"

Gojo leaned back slightly, his arms still wrapped around Megumi's waist loosely. "You didn't take your suppressants, huh?"

Megumi blinked once, his expression blank as he spoke with a sharp sarcastic tone. "No, I guess I must've forgot with the whole getting stabbed in the hand thing."

"Megs, I'm serious. I'm not trying to pick on you, I'm just asking. I don't want you going in there if you didn't take your pills."

"The fake resort people didn't give me my box back, so. I can't take them unless we swing by my apartment."

"Fine. Then that's what we'll do."

"But..?" Megumi watched him walk around the trunk to pull the gas nozzle out of the car, hanging it back up and closing his gas cap. "Your snacks."

"Who cares?" Gojo met his eyes when Megumi sat back in his seat, putting his seatbelt back on. "Gotta take care of my baby."

Megumi rolled his eyes, but the blush dusting his cheeks was undeniable. "You're an idiot."

*

Gojo barely had the car in park before Megumi was already unbuckling his seatbelt, shoving the door open and stepping out onto the pavement in one fluid movement.

He took the front steps two at a time, pulling his keys out of his pocket as he hurried to the door of his apartment building. The sooner they got in and out, the better.

Gojo followed close behind, but at a leisurely pace, hands in his pockets.

His eyes scanned the surrounding area as they entered the building, always on high alert.

And Megumi couldn’t even blame him.

Finally, as he turned the key in his apartment door, Megumi sighed. "You can stop hovering."

Gojo grinned, unbothered. "No can do."

Megumi just shook his head, too exhausted to argue.

The moment they stepped inside, Megumi beelined for his bathroom, flipping on the light and grabbing the small, spare pill bottle from the cabinet above the sink.

He popped the cap off, tapped one pill into his palm, and swallowed it dry.

The relief was immediate—even if it was just psychological.

"Good boy," Gojo murmured, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk, watching him.

Megumi glared, taking the bottle and throwing it at his chest. "Shut up."

Gojo caught it effortlessly, still grinning.

"What, no water?" Gojo teased, tossing the bottle onto the bathroom counter. "You’re really just gonna raw-dog a suppressant like that?"

"Leave."

Gojo laughed, raising his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright, you got what you need? Let’s go."

*

The drive to Gojo’s place was quieter this time—but not the heavy, brooding kind of quiet.

It was comfortable.

Megumi was relaxing, little by little, finally starting to let his guard down after everything that had happened.

Gojo glanced over, as if reading his mind.

"I'll think of something fun for us to do, okay?" he promised, giving Megumi’s thigh a small squeeze. "Something to take your mind off of it."

"I'm really not in the mood to jump in bed with you, dude." Megumi immediately snapped.

Gojo scoffed, but a large smile took over his face. "That's not what I-- And hey. Don't call me dude."

"Why not?"

"I have so many cute nicknames for you, and you're gonna talk to me like we're buddies?" Gojo practically whined. "One of these days, you're gonna see how sweet I am and regret being so mean to me."

Megumi huffed, turning his face toward the window to hide the warmth creeping up his neck. "Doubt it."

"You will." Gojo smiled, staring out the front window. "I'll wear you down. You'll see."

*

Megumi should’ve known Gojo’s house would be excessive.

Even as they pulled up the long, private driveway, lined with modern landscaping and soft-lit lanterns, Megumi already hated how obnoxious it was.

The house itself was ridiculous—a sleek, modern property, with security cameras in every corner, and an automatic security gate that slid open as soon as Gojo pressed a few buttons on the keypad near the front of it.

The damn place looked like a five-star hotel, with city skyline views in the distance.

Megumi sighed loudly as Gojo pulled into the garage. “You’re such a show-off.”

Gojo grinned, unbothered. “What, you don’t think this is subtle? It's only my second favorite property, y'know."

Megumi turned to glare at him. “It’s the least subtle thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

Gojo laughed as he parked, and when they stepped out of the car, he immediately threw an arm around Megumi’s shoulders, leading him toward the door. “C’mon, sweetheart. Let me give you the grand tour.”

*

The second Megumi walked in, he sighed again.

It was even worse than he expected.

The entryway was massive, with high ceilings and sleek black floors that probably cost more than his entire apartment lease.

The living room was filled with plush furniture, a fireplace, and a television so large it could be mistaken for a movie theater screen. Well, maybe not that big, but still.

The kitchen was spotless and filled with all stainless steel appliances—none of which Gojo probably even used.

Megumi folded his arms. “You live here?”

Gojo grinned. “Yeah, sometimes."

“This sucks."

Gojo just chuckled, reaching out to ruffle Megumi’s hair before leading him further inside. “Alright, alright. Stop teasing me. Make yourself at home.”

Megumi doubted that was possible, but he did take a seat on the couch, kicking off his shoes. The couch was annoyingly comfortable.

Gojo disappeared into the kitchen, rummaging around for drinks, and Megumi took the opportunity to snoop a little.

He opened the nearest drawer—only to find an entire stash of sunglasses and blindfolds stuffed inside.

Megumi shut it immediately, fighting the urge to laugh.

*

When Gojo returned, he flopped dramatically onto the couch beside Megumi, stretching out and tossing his long legs over Megumi’s lap like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Megumi shoved them off. “Get your giant legs off me.”

"You love it." Gojo grinned. “So, what do you wanna do? We can watch a movie, play a game, or—” He suddenly gasped, sitting up like he just had a brilliant idea. “Oh! Let’s bake something!”

Megumi stared at him blankly. “You can’t cook.”

Gojo pouted. “I didn’t say cook, I said bake. There’s a difference.”

Megumi was already shaking his head, dreading what kind of disaster Gojo would turn his kitchen into.

“C’mon,” Gojo wheedled, standing up and tugging on Megumi’s wrist. “It’ll be fun. Domestic. Romantic. We’ll make a mess, have a food fight, and fall in love like in those cliché romance movies.”

Megumi let out a long suffering sigh, but he didn’t pull his hand away. “Fine. But if you set something on fire, I’m leaving.”

"The only thing I'll set on fire is your heart, baby." Gojo said it too quickly to take it back, but when he saw the look on Megumi's face, he cringed at himself. "Sorry, sorry. That was gross, huh?"

"It was... Sweet." Megumi admitted. "But seriously. Knock it off."

*

The moment they entered the kitchen, Megumi realized this had been a mistake.

For one, Gojo had no idea where anything was.

“Where’s your flour?” Megumi asked, arms crossed.

"Oh." Gojo blinked at him. “Do I have flour..?"

Megumi groaned, already regretting agreeing to this.

After a painfully long search through Gojo’s disorganized pantry, they finally gathered the ingredients to make brownies.

But once they actually started, it became clear that Gojo had no business being in a kitchen.

“You don’t need to crack eggs like that, idiot.”

“Yes, Gojo. Butter can expire."

“No, we’re not doubling the amount of chocolate just because you ‘want it to be gooey.’”

By the time they actually got the batter into the pan, Megumi was the one who had done most of the work while Gojo stood around being useless.

Megumi shot him a glare as he slid the pan into the oven.

“I was moral support,” Gojo defended, leaning against the counter with a grin. “And look at you! So good in the kitchen. You’d make such a lovely housewife.”

Megumi picked up a pinch of flour and threw it directly into his face.

Gojo spluttered, coughing through a cloud of white dust. “Oh, you wanna go?"

Before Megumi could escape, Gojo swiped his finger through the leftover brownie batter and smeared it across Megumi's cheek, laughing hysterically as Megumi yelled in protest.

The moment Gojo had convinced him to bake something, he should have known it would end in chaos. He just hadn’t expected to be physically fighting for his life in the middle of Gojo’s disaster of a kitchen.

One second he was swiping flour off his shirt, and the next, Gojo had smudged another streak of chocolate right across his cheek.

Megumi froze, narrowing his eyes. “…Did you just—”

“Oops.”

Gojo had the audacity to grin, leaning back against the counter like he hadn’t just marked him with chocolate like some kind of smug, overgrown child.

Megumi sighed, reaching for a towel to wipe it off—

Only for Gojo to grab his wrist, tugging him just slightly closer.

“Hold still,” Gojo murmured.

Megumi barely had time to react before Gojo leaned in, his breath warm against his skin.

His tongue swiped along Megumi’s cheek, slow and deliberate, licking the chocolate away.

Megumi whined at him. "Ew. Don't be gross."

His hands shot up instinctively, but Gojo had already secured his grip, hands firm around his waist as he laughed against his skin.

“It was just a waste of good chocolate,” Gojo teased, licking his lips like he was tasting the dessert itself.

Megumi, panicked, took a step back, only to miscalculate his distance and bump into the kitchen counter.

Before he could react, Gojo took full advantage of the opportunity, pressing in closer, trapping Megumi right where he wanted him.

Gojo’s hands slid down to grip his waist, thumbs lazily rubbing circles against his sides. He was still grinning, amused, watching Megumi’s face for any sign of escape.

“You know how much I love my sweets." Gojo purred.

Megumi sputtered, heart pounding. “Can't you just wait for them to come out of the oven?"

"I'm impatient." Gojo was already moving, shifting just slightly, his breath warm against Megumi’s lips. “But I'm willing to share.” Gojo murmured, voice dangerously low.

Megumi barely had time to register what he meant before Gojo closed the distance between them.

The kiss was soft at first, just a teasing press of lips—but then it deepened.

Gojo kissed him slow and sweet, like he was savoring every second, every taste—like he was trying to prove a point.

And Megumi?

Megumi could taste the chocolate on his lips, sweet and rich, mixed with Gojo’s own familiar warmth.

His fingers curled against Gojo’s chest, not pushing him away—but pulling him closer.

For a moment, Megumi let himself fall into it, let himself enjoy the way Gojo held him, the way his body fit so easily against his own.

Gojo’s hands tightened around his waist, his lips smiling against Megumi’s.

When he finally pulled away, he rested their foreheads together, still grinning like an idiot.

“See?” Gojo whispered. “Delicious, right?"

Megumi, flustered beyond belief, shoved him hard in the chest. "You're so full of yourself."

Gojo stumbled back, laughing breathlessly.

Megumi wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, face burning. “I hate you.”

“No you don’t,” Gojo sang, licking his lips.

*

Gojo's sugar crash took place about fifteen minutes after eating three brownies.

Which is how Gojo and Megumi ended up in Gojo's bed, gossiping like a bunch of kids at a sleepover.

At first, Gojo just talked about random things—his worst mission failures, the time he got caught sneaking out of Jujutsu High as a student, the embarrassingly confident things he’d done when he found out he was a dom.

Megumi mostly listened, the sound of Gojo’s voice keeping him relaxed.

But eventually, the conversation shifted.

Somewhere between talking about stupid teenage mistakes, Gojo’s voice softened. “You ever think about what you wanna do now that you’re graduated?”

Megumi was quiet for a second. “Not really.”

Gojo hummed, watching him. “You never thought about life outside Jujutsu High?”

Megumi exhaled. “Did you?”

Gojo considered that for a moment, then shook his head. “No, I guess not.”

Megumi turned to look at him. “Then why do you expect me to?”

"That's fair." Gojo chuckled softly. “I mean, when I was first assigned, I had this small hope that I'd find a sub to settle down with, y'know? Drop all the sorcerer shit, and just... Have a family. Be happy. But I figured out pretty quickly that it wasn't really in the cards for me."

"Well... You're allowed to have dreams, Satoru."

"I do."

"Yeah? Like what?"

A quiet pause stretched between them, and before Megumi realized it, Gojo had reached over, grabbing his hand absentmindedly, just to trace his fingers over Megumi’s palm.

Gojo softly admitted. "I've always dreamed of being with someone like you."

Megumi felt his chest tighten, and he couldn't respond.

*

As Megumi started drifting off, he turned his head toward Gojo—only to realize Gojo was already watching him.

They held eye contact for a long moment, something unspoken passing between them.

Then, without really thinking, Megumi leaned over and pressed a sleepy kiss to Gojo’s cheek.

Gojo went completely still.

Megumi pretended not to notice, as he hummed. "Goodnight. Man of my dreams."

Gojo didn’t respond right away. He wasn't sure if Megumi was trying to tease him, but he hoped not.

He just stared at Megumi like he was trying to memorize him, something terrifyingly soft behind his expression.

Then, finally, he smiled.

And with zero hesitation, Gojo pulled Megumi closer, resting his chin against Megumi’s hair.

Megumi let him.

Neither of them said it.

But they both felt it.

*

The first thing Megumi registered when he woke up was warmth.

Gojo’s bed was ridiculously comfortable, far too soft and too warm, and for a brief moment, Megumi had zero intention of moving.

Then, the second thing he registered was Gojo’s absence.

Megumi blinked, lifting his head slightly.

The space beside him was empty, the sheets rumpled but cool to the touch, meaning Gojo had been gone for a while.

With a quiet yawn, Megumi slowly sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes—only to freeze when he caught sight of Gojo’s ridiculous figure out on the balcony.

He was shirtless.

Actually, no. Worse.

He was just in his underwear.

And, of course, he looked stupidly good.

Megumi let out a quiet, tired sigh, rubbing at his face before turning his head to properly appreciate the view.

Gojo stood near the railing, the morning sun hitting his skin in a way that made it nearly glow—all toned muscle and broad shoulders, one arm resting lazily against the railing as he spoke into his phone.

His hair was messy, falling into his eyes, and his underwear slid just slightly lower on his hips.

Megumi swallowed.

Unfair.

He wasn’t trying to stare, but honestly? Who could blame him?

The balcony door was slightly cracked, and even though Megumi wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, he couldn’t help but pick up bits of the conversation.

Gojo sounded annoyed. "Seriously? Already? I just got back."

A pause.

Then, a huff of frustration.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it, but can you at least give me—?"

Another pause.

Gojo ran a hand through his hair, shifting his weight onto one foot, the muscles in his back stretching. 

Megumi really shouldn’t be staring, but damn it, it was hard not to.

He slowly sat up further in bed, curious now.

Gojo sighed again. "You just love sending me on suicide missions, huh? Can I at least bring Fushiguro, so somebody can carry my corpse back home?"

Megumi’s brows lifted slightly.

Gojo glanced over his shoulder then, immediately noticing Megumi staring.

And, of course, Gojo smirked.

Megumi rolled his eyes.

Gojo turned back to the phone. "Yeah, yeah. It’ll be a teachable moment or whatever. You like those, don’t you?"

Megumi slowly slid out of bed, padding barefoot across the floor toward the balcony door. He stayed just behind it, listening.

Gojo hummed at whatever was said next, then suddenly added, "Actually, why not just send all three of them? Megumi, Yuji, and Nobara. Give them some real professional experience since, y’know, their last mission was a complete and utter joke."

Megumi exhaled through his nose, finally stepping forward onto the balcony.

Gojo turned toward him fully, grinning now.

Megumi didn't hesitate, crowding into his space, reaching up to kiss him soundly on the lips.

Gojo barely had time to process before Megumi was kissing him, one of Megumi’s hands bracing against Gojo’s chest, the other fisting lightly into the fabric of Gojo’s waistband.

For once, Gojo didn’t have the upper hand.

It took half a second for him to tilt his head, his hands falling to Megumi’s waist, pulling him in as he kissed him back—slow and lazy, like he had all the time in the world even though somebody was still talking to him from the phone in his hand.

"Mmm." Gojo hummed into his mouth, smirking against his lips. "What was that for?"

Megumi pulled back slightly, looking far too smug. "Nothing. Just wanted to shut you up."

Gojo laughed, keeping one arm around his waist, his other hand sliding up to Megumi’s jaw, his thumb brushing over his cheek. "Didn't work. Do it again?"

Megumi scoffed, but obliged him, kissing him again—brief this time, softer, lighter, before finally pulling away.

Gojo sighed dramatically, reluctantly letting him go before turning back to his phone. "Anyway," he muttered into the receiver, "we’ll be ready to leave by tomorrow morning. See ya."

He hung up immediately, tossing his phone onto the balcony table before sliding both arms fully around Megumi’s waist again.

"So," Gojo grinned. "Wanna go on a mission with me?"

Megumi huffed a laugh, arms sliding over Gojo’s shoulders. "You already decided for me, idiot."

"True." Gojo grinned wider. "I just don't wanna go anywhere if you're not there."

Megumi shook his head, rolling his eyes, but he couldn’t stop the small smile that tugged at the corner of his lips. "You're a lovesick idiot all of a sudden."

"Yeah, so?"

It was fine.

After all—how could he ever say no to Gojo?

***

Chapter Text

The sun stretched lazily over the horizon as Gojo drove, one hand on the wheel, the other resting comfortably on Megumi’s thigh.

His thumb moved in slow, absentminded circles against the fabric of Megumi’s sweatpants—a casual touch, but one that sent heat curling through Megumi’s chest anyway. He didn’t acknowledge it, staring out the window as the trees blurred past.

Yuji had already fallen asleep in the back seat, his head slumped against Nobara’s shoulder. She had yet to shove him off, which was impressive in itself.

Gojo grinned at them through the rearview mirror. “Almost cute.”

Nobara cracked an eye open. “Shut up.”

"Might need you to wake him up though."

Yuji snored softly.

Gojo just chuckled and shifted his grip on the wheel. “Alright, brats. Time for the mission briefing.”

Megumi sighed, turning from the window. “Finally gonna tell us what's going on, huh?"

“I only just got the details this morning,” Gojo shot back. “Besides, surprises are fun.”

“Preparedness is fun,” Megumi muttered.

Gojo ignored him. “Here’s the deal. Underground fighting ring. Not just cursed spirits—some of the fighters might be jujutsu sorcerers, either willingly or against their will. We don’t know how it’s being run, but we do know it needs to be shut down.”

Nobara sat up a little taller. "Woah."

"I know, right? Kinda intense for your first real mission, but... I assured the higher-ups that you guys could handle it."

Yuji was still blinking himself awake. “Wait, so we have to go in and fight?”

“Not exactly. Subs and switches are strictly forbidden.” Gojo said, eyes glinting with mischief. “I have to go in and fight.”

That got everyone’s attention.

Megumi sat up straighter. “What?”

Yuji immediately looked concerned. “Wait, hold on, you’re fighting? Like, actually fighting?”

Nobara, on the other hand, just leaned back with a smirk. “Oh, this should be good.”

Gojo’s grin widened. “That’s the plan. I’ll disguise myself, change my hair, and enter the fights as a distraction. While everyone’s busy watching me, you three sneak around and investigate. Find out who’s running this thing, where they’re keeping people, and we’ll shut it down.”

Yuji still looked worried. “But what if you get hurt?”

Gojo laughed. “Oh, Yuji. That’s adorable.”

Megumi, however, wasn’t laughing. His jaw tightened, fingers curling into fists. “This is a stupid plan.”

Gojo raised an eyebrow, amused. “And why’s that?”

“Because you don’t do undercover. You glow, Gojo. You have the most recognizable face in the entire jujutsu world.”

“Not if I dye my hair,” Gojo said, way too pleased with himself. “I’m thinking black. Very edgy.”

Megumi scowled. “That won’t help.”

Nobara snorted. “Honestly, he could walk in with a full face tattoo and people would still recognize the way he moves.”

Gojo shrugged. "Higher-ups told me not to use any of my techniques, so. I'm basically just gonna fight like Yuji. Nobody will know."

Yuji frowned. "That doesn't seem fair."

Gojo waved him off. “It’s fine. I’ll manage.”

Megumi frowned. “You don’t ‘manage’ things, you overpower them. There’s a difference.”

Gojo shot him a wink. “You flatter me.”

“I’m serious,” Megumi snapped. “Fighting like Yuji means you can't heal. No Limitless, no Hollow Purple, no teleporting—so how exactly are you supposed to fight?”

“With my hands,” Gojo said simply.

Yuji and Nobara exchanged glances.

Gojo continued. “Just cursed energy reinforcement. No extra flairs. They don’t want me attracting too much attention."

Megumi inhaled slowly, pressing two fingers against his temple.

“So let me get this straight,” Megumi said, his tone eerily calm. “You’re walking into a room full of criminals and curses, fighting with just your hands, without Limitless, without infinity, and without being able to heal yourself."

Gojo nodded. “Yep.”

Megumi exhaled sharply. “That's fucking dumb."

Gojo laughed. “Aw, you worry about me.”

“Yes, because you’re an idiot.”

Yuji frowned. “But, seriously—what if one of the cursed spirits is really strong? You’d have to—”

“Relax,” Gojo cut in, voice light but firm. “You really think anyone down there is going to be strong enough to take me out?”

Yuji hesitated. “Well… Probably not, but—”

“No buts,” Gojo said. “It’s your job to make sure it doesn’t come to that. You three find an opening to take out whoever’s in charge, and we’re out of there.”

Megumi crossed his arms, glaring out the window.

This was reckless.

Stupid.

And yet—Megumi knew there was no talking Gojo out of it.

He felt Gojo squeeze his thigh lightly, a silent reassurance.

“I know,” Gojo murmured, still grinning. “But I’ll be fine.”

Megumi clenched his jaw and said nothing.

*

They had been on the road for nearly two hours when Gojo suddenly turned up the volume on the radio.

An obnoxiously catchy song from the early 2000s blasted through the speakers, and Yuji immediately perked up.

“Oh, hell yeah,” Yuji grinned, belting out the first line.

Nobara cackled before joining in, singing loudly and off-key.

Gojo didn’t hesitate to follow, dramatically exaggerating his notes like he was performing for a crowd.

Megumi groaned. “Oh my god.”

“C’mon, Meggie,” Gojo called over the music. “You know you love this song."

“No.”

“You do realize we’re just going to keep going until you sing, right?”

Megumi glared at him. “That’s blackmail.”

“It’s called peer pressure,” Nobara corrected.

Gojo turned the volume even higher.

Yuji and Nobara screamed the chorus. Gojo threw a fist in the air, acting like he was at a concert.

Megumi knew that Gojo was just goofing off to try to cheer him up.

And, against his better judgment, Megumi felt his lips twitch upward.

*

The low rumble of the car engine cut off as Gojo pulled into the gas station, the neon lights flickering above them. They were close to their destination now—just a few miles out from the fight ring—but they needed to make a quick stop.

“Told you not to drive so far on E,” Megumi muttered, already pushing open the car door with Gojo's credit card in hand.

"Why are you giving me shit for doing the right thing?" Gojo asked with a light tone. "We're low on gas, and at a gas station."

“And low on snacks,” Yuji added, practically bouncing in his seat. “I need fuel, too.”

“Of course you do,” Nobara snorted.

Yuji smiled at her. "Want anything?"

"No, I--"

"Oh wait, I know the answer. 'No, I'll eat later.' Well you know what, I won't stand for that." Yuji winked at her. "I'll grab ya something."

Without waiting for an answer, Yuji jogged inside, disappearing into the fluorescent glow of the convenience store.

Megumi grabbed the gas pump, sticking it into the car as the machine beeped to life.

"Hey, Kugisaki." Gojo leaned back in his seat, stretching, before suddenly nodding toward the restrooms. “You still wanna help me?"

Nobara clapped her hands together. “Totally."

Megumi barely had time to glare at them before the two of them disappeared into the bathroom.

A few minutes passed.

Yuji returned first, a plastic bag overflowing with junk food clutched in one hand, a sports drink in the other. He set the bag on the hood of the car, cracking open the drink as he leaned against the side.

Megumi finished pumping the gas, replacing the nozzle before leaning on the car too.

“Should we be concerned?” Yuji asked, glancing toward the bathroom door.

“Probably,” Megumi answered flatly.

Yuji chuckled. “Think it’ll actually work?”

Megumi exhaled through his nose. “No. I don't."

The door creaked open.

“Introducing…” Nobara’s voice rang out as she stepped forward, a bag slung over her shoulder. She looked way too pleased with herself. “Your new and improved Gojo Satoru.”

Then he walked out.

Megumi’s jaw nearly dropped open.

Yuji whistled. “Whoa.”

Gojo’s usual snow-white hair was now pitch-black, cut slightly messier than before. He had red contact lenses in, making his already intense gaze look downright unreal.

His uniform was sleek and fitted, the high collar covering the lower half of his face, similar to Inumaki’s style.

It was almost enough to make him unrecognizable.

"Who's the best sorcerer now, bitches?" Nobara grabbed Gojo's hand, practically skipping over to them. “I have successfully made a hot man impossibly hotter.”

Megumi scoffed. “You made him look like a vampire.”

Nobara smirked. “A hot vampire, though.”

Yuji grinned, his eyes never leaving Gojo. “Man, you look awesome.”

“Of course I do,” Gojo said, adjusting his collar. “I miss my blindfold though."

Megumi rolled his eyes, pushing off the car. “Let’s just get this over with.”

They piled back into the car, and Gojo drove them the rest of the way.

*

By the time they reached the fight ring’s secret location, civilization was a mile behind them.

The town was practically a ghost town—empty streets, broken-down buildings, and a thick, eerie stillness hanging in the air.

The only thing that seemed remotely alive was the building in front of them.

It was an old, rundown bar, its neon sign flickering above the door.

Gojo pulled up outside, killing the engine. The group sat there for a moment, taking a deep breath before grabbing their overnight bags.

“This is sketchy as hell,” Yuji muttered.

“Yep,” Nobara agreed. "The sketchier the better in the sorcery world, I guess."

Megumi inhaled deeply. “Let’s go.”

They stepped inside.

The bar was dimly lit, the air thick with cigarette smoke.

A few patrons were scattered at the tables, but the main focus was the bartender behind the counter, who immediately zeroed in on Gojo.

He eyed him up and down when Gojo was close enough, polishing a glass in his hands. “Codeword?”

Gojo didn’t hesitate. “Scarlet Dawn.”

The bartender studied him for a moment before nodding. He slid a room key across the counter. “Downstairs. Room seven.”

Gojo grabbed the key, motioning for the others to follow.

They moved through a side door, descending a dark, narrow staircase.

The air grew heavier the further they went, the faint hum of voices and distant cheers growing louder beneath them.

At the bottom, another man stood waiting.

He raised an eyebrow. "Bring your kids to work day?"

Gojo didn't flinch. "This is my team."

He crossed his arms. “Codeword?”

“Scarlet Dawn,” Gojo repeated.

The man nodded, stepping aside. “Drop your things in your room. Leave your phones too, or face the consequences. Then head to the service elevator.”

Megumi swallowed. Was this really happening?

Gojo remained completely calm, leading them down a long, poorly lit hallway until they reached Room Seven.

He unlocked the door, stepping inside as the others followed, tossing their bags to the floor.

The room was simple. Only one bed in the room, and a small bathroom. Basic amenities were scattered around, but it wasn't exactly large enough for the four of them.

Gojo turned to face them, his gaze serious now. “Alright,” he said, his tone even. “Listen to me.”

The room fell silent.

“This isn’t gonna be pretty.” Gojo leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “Some of the fights we see? You’re not gonna like them. You might see some ugly shit. But you cannot react.”

Yuji and Nobara nodded, but Megumi’s jaw was tight.

Gojo’s gaze flicked toward him. “That means you too, Megumi. I'm gonna get hurt a little, and I'm gonna pull my punches as best I can to make the fight look fair. Just remember that I'm in control, and I'll be okay."

Megumi clenched his fists. “I know.”

Gojo softened—just a little. “If you freak out, you'll blow our cover. Cheer when the crowd cheers, boo when they're upset. We have to act like we've been here before.”

Yuji swallowed. “What about you?”

Gojo smirked. “Oh, I’ll be fine. I'm counting on you guys to solve all this shit before it gets too crazy. Okay?"

Yuji nodded once, firmly. "Got it."

Megumi hated this. Hated all of it.

But Gojo was already adjusting his collar, rolling his shoulders, looking perfectly at ease.

Megumi exhaled slowly. There was no stopping this now.

Gojo grinned. “Alright. Let’s go kick some ass."

*

The service elevator rumbled to a stop, and the doors slid open, revealing the underground arena.

The room was massive, dimly lit with a thick haze of smoke hanging in the air. The scent of sweat, alcohol, and something worse lingered.

The place reeked of blood.

The line moved slowly, bodies pressing forward as the crowd funneled through some kind of checkpoint.

A long table was set up at the entrance, where a few enforcers handed out identification collars—thin, fitted bands made of black reinforced fabric, snug against the skin like a mark of ownership.

Megumi’s stomach twisted at the sight of them.

Subs had to wear them. No exceptions. It was a clear, silent rule: they weren’t allowed to fight.

They were here to spectate. Nothing more.

Megumi and Yuji stepped up together.

The enforcer barely spared them a glance before looping a collar around Yuji’s neck first, securing it with a firm tug. Yuji winced slightly but gave an easy, unconcerned grin.

Doesn't bother him, Megumi thought bitterly. Of course it didn’t.

Then it was Megumi’s turn.

The fabric was pulled tight against his throat, just snug enough to feel restricting, a reminder he wasn’t meant to be here.

They walked forward until they were just inside of the arena, and Megumi could feel a mix of the collar and his own anxiety making it harder to breathe.

His fingers twitched at his side, itching to tear it off, but before he could, Gojo stepped in front of him.

Megumi barely had time to react before Gojo reached out, fingers brushing his jaw as he adjusted the collar himself, loosening it slightly.

“Relax,” Gojo murmured, voice low enough that only Megumi could hear. “Too tight, huh baby? I'll fix it. You're okay."

Megumi’s breath hitched, but he stayed still, letting Gojo fix it, his touch light but steady.

“There we go,” Gojo said softly, letting his fingers linger for just a second longer than necessary. “Take a few deep breaths, sweetheart. Everything's gonna be okay."

Megumi exhaled slowly. He didn’t thank Gojo, but when their eyes met, Gojo’s gaze was warm, knowing.

Then, just as quickly, he turned back toward the arena, leading them forward like nothing had happened.

Rows of see-through cages lined the floor, each one filled with brutal, scrappy fights.

Some were sorcerers against cursed spirits, others were hand-to-hand brawls between fighters—some human, some not.

The crowd was wild, packed shoulder to shoulder, drinks in hand as they roared with every strike landed inside the cages. The whole thing had the raw energy of an underground fight club, but with an edge of something far darker.

Megumi took one look at a cage to their left and immediately wished he hadn’t.

A sorcerer—barely older than him—was backed into a corner, blood dripping from his mouth, desperately trying to fend off a massive curse with jagged teeth and too many arms.

His technique was failing, the energy flickering out. He was losing.

And the crowd loved it.

Megumi’s stomach twisted. This wasn’t just illegal. This was bordering on torture.

Gojo, walking just ahead, must have noticed the way Megumi tensed beside him. His hand brushed lightly against Megumi’s in silent warning.

Stay calm.

Megumi forced himself to look away.

A man with a clipboard pushed through the crowd, eyes locking onto Gojo.

His gaze flicked over him quickly, scanning him from head to toe before grabbing his arm. “Been looking for you. Name?”

Gojo didn’t hesitate. “Geto.”

Megumi stiffened at the name, but Gojo didn’t look at him.

The man checked a box on his clipboard, nodding. “And them?” He gestured toward the group behind him.

Gojo barely glanced back before pointing lazily at them.

“Manager,” he said, motioning at Nobara.

Nobara straightened her posture, looking smug.

“Coach,” he continued, flicking a finger toward Yuji. Then his hand found Megumi’s waist, pulling him in just enough to make a point. “Lover.”

The man with the clipboard just nodded, jotting it down like it was completely normal.

He was too comfortable in this place, too relaxed in the sketchiness of it all.

He didn’t even blink before looking back up at Gojo. “Cage Five,” he said. “Ten minutes. I’ll take you to your spot.”

The moment the guy turned away, Megumi yanked himself out of Gojo’s grip, immediately complaining. "Why'd you have to say it like that?"

Nobara cackled. “No complaints here."

Gojo didn’t respond, as he followed the clipboard guy deeper into the arena.

The group trailed behind, weaving through the chaos of spectators, the flashing lights, and the brutal sounds of fists meeting flesh.

Cage Five was in the center of the room, one of the largest cages available.

Megumi, Yuji, and Nobara found a spot at the large window overlooking the cage, pressing in between a few rowdy gamblers who were already placing bets.

Down below, Gojo was shoved through the cage door.

Megumi gritted his teeth, his body tense as he watched Gojo straighten himself, cracking his neck as he walked toward the center.

Then, finally, he looked up at his opponent.

A massive man stood across from him—easily seven feet tall, built like a solid wall of muscle, covered in scars.

His knuckles were wrapped tight, his expression blank and unreadable.

The bell hadn’t even rung yet, but the guy was already clenching his fists, shifting his stance.

Gojo tilted his head, eyeing him curiously.

Then he smirked.

***

Chapter Text

Megumi, Nobara, and Yuji knew they should have been doing something—scanning the crowd, memorizing faces, investigating—but they were practically tied to the cage, unable to look away.

Gojo was putting on a show.

From the first punch thrown, it was clear to his ex-students that he knew exactly what he was doing.

He fought convincingly, keeping his movements sharp but just restrained enough to look like he was struggling.

His opponent was a beast of a man—pure muscle, deadly experience in his every move—but Gojo dodged like he was built for this. 

Every shift of his stance, every well-placed block, every expertly controlled hit made the fight look fair, real.

And then, he let the guy hit him.

Megumi tensed as Gojo took a solid punch to the ribs.

The crowd loved it.

They roared, fists pumping, as Gojo staggered back just slightly, his head tilting as if he hadn’t quite expected the hit.

A few stray strands of his newly black hair fell into his eyes, making him look almost wild.

Nobara grinned. “Look at our little thespian."

Yuji clenched his jaw. “Yeah, but how long is he gonna keep that up?”

Megumi barely breathed.

The fight dragged on, Gojo still playing his part, letting the other guy land a few more hits, before he'd had enough.

In a flash, Gojo pivoted, slipping through the man's defenses like water through cracks in stone.

His fist connected with a devastating uppercut.

The massive fighter barely had time to react before his head snapped back, his entire body lifting off the ground for half a second before crashing hard onto the cage floor.

The crowd went insane.

Megumi released a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding as the referee rushed in, checking the downed fighter before lifting a hand in Gojo’s direction.

“Winner—Geto!”

Gojo wiped a trickle of blood from his eyebrow as he stepped out of the cage, calm as ever, his chest barely rising with exertion.

Megumi didn’t think. He shoved through the crowd, ignoring the shouts and protests, forcing his way to Gojo before grabbing him—tight.

Gojo barely had time to react before Megumi had him wrapped in a hug, his grip strong around his waist, his breath uneven against his collar.

Gojo stilled for half a second before his arms came up around Megumi, his voice softer now. “I’m fine.”

Megumi didn’t let go.

Gojo ran a hand up his back, fingers pressing just slightly at his nape in reassurance. “Promise.”

Megumi took a slow, measured breath before finally, reluctantly, pulling away.

The clipboard man rushed past them, barely sparing them a glance. “Ninth cage next. Whenever you’re ready.”

Gojo just hummed in response, rolling out his shoulders like this was just another day at work.

Nobara, however, wasn’t done.

She grabbed the clipboard man’s arm before he could disappear again. “Hey, hold up. How exactly does this work? Do fighters get breaks?”

The man scoffed. “Breaks? No.”

Nobara’s eyes narrowed. “So they just keep fighting?”

“Yep. Usually ten fights a day, back to back. Once you’re done, you’re done. You can go back to your room for as long as you want.”

Yuji frowned. “Wait. Ten?”

“Sometimes more,” the man said casually, as if it wasn’t insane. “Depends how much you can take.”

"More than ten?" Nobara crossed her arms. “You got a manager we can talk to?”

Clipboard man laughed. “Nobody talks to the manager unless they’re top five.”

Nobara huffed, but before she could argue further, Gojo nudged her toward the next fight. “C’mon. Leave the man alone."

They moved toward Cage Nine.

This time, Gojo’s opponent wasn’t human.

A twisted, drooling curse stood in the cage, its hunched form trembling with sick anticipation.

It had multiple jagged limbs, slick black skin that glistened under the dim lights, and eyes that darted in different directions.

Gojo sighed, rolling his neck. “Ugh. Gross.”

The bell rang, and Gojo moved first.

The curse was fast, lunging for him immediately, swiping its long claws in a move meant to rip through flesh.

Gojo dodged, but it was close—too close for comfort.

Megumi’s fingers curled around the railing, glued to the glass wall of the cage.

This was harder.

With a human opponent, Gojo could control the fight, make it look fair.

But against a curse, with its unnatural speed and strength, Gojo had to be careful. He couldn’t just throw a punch and expect it to land the way it would on a normal body. He had to adjust.

For the first time, Gojo looked a little annoyed.

The curse lunged again, and this time, Gojo caught its wrist, twisting sharply before delivering a brutal knee to its stomach.

The thing gagged, but it didn’t go down.

Gojo clicked his tongue. “Don't be like that.”

Megumi was practically vibrating.

He hated this.

Hated that Gojo couldn’t use his full strength. Hated that he was playing by the stupid rules of the higher-ups. Hated that he had to watch.

The fight dragged on, every strike making Megumi more and more anxious.

He wanted to scream at Gojo to just end it, to stop messing around, to—

Gojo suddenly pivoted, dropping low before slamming a kick into the curse’s ribs.

A sickening crack echoed through the cage.

The curse stumbled, choking on its own breath.

Gojo moved in for the finishing blow.