Hey -- [ Megumi does want to protest when he's scooped in by those long, gangling arms, but he barely gets a sword or shove out before it's too late, and he's encapsulated in the warmth and sweet, flowery scent of this man he's known for most of his life.
And then, the soft kiss against his forehead ... Oh, he's really blushing now, feeling overwhelmed from just that small gesture of affection. When he thinks about it, throughout his life, most of the affection he has received has been from this one man right here. He's always been supporting him, spending time with him when he really doesn't have to, when he should be busy with someone else because he has the weight of the world on his shoulders. Why? Megumi never understood. The same way he doesn't understand why his teacher likes being close to him so much.
What he does understand ... is what he's missed, these past few months since that catastrophe in Shibuya. The stupid daily texts and emojis. The souvenirs and snacks. The special attention he keeps trying to push away. He lost all of that in one day, when he lost this man.
He misses him.
And that's why Megumi relaxes when he would usually tense up at close contact, allowing those arms to encircle him. His own touch is shy, but smaller hands creep up and grip onto that tall back, clutching the fabric in a needy way. There's something desperate in his touch, which should be Gojo's first clue that something is wrong - that there's something they just haven't told him. Megumi buries his face into the older man's chest, letting those memories of his childhood wash through him, and just basking this way -- because he can. Here, he can do this. When they return home? He doesn't know. ]
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winterfish
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Date: 2023-03-05 09:44 am (UTC)And then, the soft kiss against his forehead ... Oh, he's really blushing now, feeling overwhelmed from just that small gesture of affection. When he thinks about it, throughout his life, most of the affection he has received has been from this one man right here. He's always been supporting him, spending time with him when he really doesn't have to, when he should be busy with someone else because he has the weight of the world on his shoulders. Why? Megumi never understood. The same way he doesn't understand why his teacher likes being close to him so much.
What he does understand ... is what he's missed, these past few months since that catastrophe in Shibuya. The stupid daily texts and emojis. The souvenirs and snacks. The special attention he keeps trying to push away. He lost all of that in one day, when he lost this man.
He misses him.
And that's why Megumi relaxes when he would usually tense up at close contact, allowing those arms to encircle him. His own touch is shy, but smaller hands creep up and grip onto that tall back, clutching the fabric in a needy way. There's something desperate in his touch, which should be Gojo's first clue that something is wrong - that there's something they just haven't told him. Megumi buries his face into the older man's chest, letting those memories of his childhood wash through him, and just basking this way -- because he can. Here, he can do this. When they return home? He doesn't know. ]
Quiet for a second ...