I, Omega

Chapter 6: Doesn't Have to be Dramatic

 Yuji took a deep breath before opening the door to his dorm room. Not long after his time with Gojo, the white-haired man treated him to an early dinner that turned into a long talk about celebrities they both liked. Gojo might have been a bit older, but he was easy to talk to. The man had a gorgeous figure, yet it was almost like he was too attractive.

The sun had mostly set by the time Yuji arrived at what was supposed to be his new home. It had been a long, very long, day. One thing stuck out in his mind, though: a phrase Gojo had said casually while they ate sushi together. "Not everything needs to be dramatic."

Yuji took another breath before quietly rattling his key into the lock, "Yeah. He's right. Not everything needs to be dramatic. I can take my time with everything."

With a clunk, the door opened. The pink-haired man was quick to catch the knob, allowing the heavy door to close with a hiss. He flicked the lock with one finger, hoping Fushiguro hadn't heard and wouldn't run over like he had before.

Yuji kicked his shoes off by the door. He stretched his limbs, opting to leave the lights off. His plan was to take a shower in a few minutes, but first, he wanted to lay out on his bed.

After doing a cursory glance of the room, one thing stuck out to Yuji. His eyes widened seeing the mass piled atop the small rubber mattress. The mass shifted as if rising from the dead.

There was a quiet yawn before Fushiguro's voice called out from the darkness, "You forgot to lock your door. Idiot."

Yuji scrunched his face, "God, what the hell is your problem, man? You don't want to be around me, then you do, then you don't again."

There was no response, just the sounds of fabric shifting around. The dorm's walls were dressed in darkness, making it extremely difficult to tell Fushiguro's body from the backdrop behind him. Yuji could hear the man's breathing steadily increasing.

"Not going to answer me? Do you know how much you've got my head twisted in knots, Fushiguro?" Yuji felt his shoulders drop heavy with anger and confusion.

"Don't say my name like that," Fushiguro spoke softly, still seated on the bed.

"Like what, huh? I can say your name however I want, Fushiguro!" Yuji gritted his teeth, playing back every instance he had known the black-haired man.

"Don't say it like you're angry," Fushiguro said.

Yuji was dumbstruck. How else was he supposed to feel? What was the reaction supposed to be to someone who was essentially a stranger claiming him as their own? That's what Todo was saying, and it made perfect sense hearing how Fushiguro demanded respect.

"Why should I care about your opinion? You show up out of nowhere and seem like a nice guy. Then, the next day, you think you've imprinted on me? Have you even thought about how I felt about all of this? Classes haven't even started yet, and I feel drained," Yuji spat each word as the veins in his neck twitched.

Fushiguro grunted, "I can smell him on you from here."

Yuji dropped his lip, "How's that any of your business?"

"I figured if you had a problem with me, then you'd say it. That's the kind of impression I've gotten from you. I didn't expect you to go run off to Gojo and let him rub all over you," Fushiguro said, presumably with a frown.

Those words stunned Yuji. Was the man who had, not moments prior, admitted to breaking and entering just trying to shift the emotional blame to Yuji? The pink-haired man's arms tensed and his fists clenched with white knuckles.