A missing piece (itafushi) |itadori × fushiguro|

Chapter19(contains smut ⚠️)

Chapter 19: Love me like there's no tomorrow.

******
Contains smut ⚠️

******

Just as they reached the room, Itadori planted a kiss on Megumi’s lips. Pulling Megumi closer by his shirt. They both dwell in the moment now completely ignoring the world around them.

Itadori pulled away just because he needed to breathe, "Where's Okkotsu senpai again?"

"The corner-most room"

"Fine"

Itadori reconnected his lips with Megumi’s.

Kissing Fushiguro always feels like their first time again — always that soft, faint noise of surprise, body stuttering to a stop for a split second. The boy in front of him coaxed him into melting, lips brushing against his in a gentle manner.

There wasn’t an ounce of impatience in Itadori’s movement; it felt like he was perfectly content with him taking his time, patiently waiting for Fushiguro to relax and learn the feeling of being loved by someone who wanted him to feel good. Itadori took his bottom lip into his mouth, sucking — and oh, he can understand now why people spent hours and hours kissing.

Eventually, Itadori has worked his way into opening Fushiguro up, tongue darting in to lick the roof of his mouth, and Fushiguro really did lose himself into the feeling, a soft, inquisitive hum slipping out of his mouth, a hand timidly reaching out to clutch on the fabric of Itadori’s sleeve.
They'll take it slow this night -- Itadori wants him to remember their first night being intimate.

Itadori’s heart aches fondly everytime Fushiguro breaks into shy laughter against his lips, tentative, nervous and eager all at the same time.

But Fushiguro is a fast learner, recovering quicker and quicker everytime they kiss. Itadori's  sidling closer now, large palm warm and possessive on Fushiguro's waist. The other still goes pliant for him, lips parting easily, but he puts up a fight, tongue clever and wet and hot in Itadori’s mouth until Itadori has to break away for oxygen, a low groan rumbling somewhere deep in his throat.

"You’re far too good at kissing now", Itadori grumbles half-heartedly, and Fushiguro laughs, softly flustered.

"That’s too much power.", he added.

"I have a good teacher", Fushiguro counters smoothly, slender fingers sliding up to frame his jaw. It’s still soft, his touch, but not nearly as hesitant nor as jilted as before. It sparks an intense warmth in his chest, something physiological that felt a lot like pride, like love, like relief.

Soon Fushiguro get's rid of his shirt and reaches Itadori’s. He noticed the sudden changes on Itadori’s face.
He looks dejected, exhausted and uncharacteristically vulnerable, clutching at his wristband with shaking fingers.

"Yuuji?", Fushiguro spoke with a soft and worried voice, and the other slowly looked up, eyes distant.

"Yuuji, look at me."

Panic flashed in Itadori’s eyes as he finally looked at him -- stuttered out his name in reply, and oh, Fushiguro didn’t like that. He didn’t like that all, hated it. It felt wrong.

" What's wrong?" He cursed himself for feeling so inadequate, slowly making his way to the other. Itadori seemed to shrink deeper into himself, and that felt even worse, made him feel like something had died in his throat and clogged his airways.

"Yuuji?" The bed dipped as he sat in front of him and this time at least, the other didn’t tense up. He tried again, the low timbre of his voice especially tender, especially quiet. "Hey, it's okay."