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With a heavy sigh, a thoroughly exhausted Yuuji flopped down onto his bed, sinking into the navy-colored bedding. The new bruises on his face hurt like hell - even after he'd been training with that creepy-cute cursed corpse thing, he always seemed to end training with at least a few stinging marks on his face and yet another obvious welt below his chin. At this point, it was a miracle that he hadn't cracked his jaw or something because of the constant abuse to his face.
Just as he had begun to realize that he'd left the door open, Itadori heard a quiet rustling sound from the other side of the room. Upon turning his head, there was nothing in sight, much to his confusion - the door was still open, but nothing else.
Oh, wait - why was his dresser open?
With a tired groan, Yuuji rose and halfheartedly closed the dresser drawer. Just as quickly as he'd closed it, however, he ended up opening it once again. What the...?
His yellow hoodie was missing. His favorite hoodie.
Yuuji rustled through the rest of the clothes in his drawer, only to notice that there were a few other things missing as well. Another hoodie and a t-shirt, the one with the cat eating ramen on it (a birthday present from Gojo-sensei) were also missing.
Huh?
Did he miss something? Like a "wanted" poster for a clothing thief?
Before he could even process why the hell he was missing so much clothes, he felt a strange weight on his back. It felt like a person.
Itadori jumped maybe a foot into the air before he managed to spin around, only to see a slender pair of arms wrapping around his waist and a head that looked suspiciously like a sea urchin tuck itself away, burying into Itadori's back like it was trying to hide.
"Fushiguro, what the hell?" Yuuji questioned, baffled. It was only when he noticed something else that a semblance of understanding was able to make it through Yuuji's head. As Yuuji drew in a deep breath, the answer was right there, right in front of him, in the form of a sweet, minty scent. It seemed familiar, and yet was probably the most foreign scent Yuuji could think of.
Then it clicked.
Was this Fushiguro? Fushiguro never really had a scent - whether it was because he was the most closeted omega alive and he smothered himself to death with suppressants and whatnot or otherwise - but if Itadori had to guess what he smelled like, it would be this. Clean, sweet.
Wow, this really was Fushiguro. This sweet scent, right under his nose - literally.
But still, this arose many questions. Where was this all coming from in the first place? Who the hell had possessed him, because this definitely wasn't the Fushiguro Megumi that Yuuji knew (maybe possibly had a crush on)? Why could he smell Fushiguro if he always had scent patches on?
Craning his neck even further, Yuuji was certain he was still able to see the thin, nude-colored patch over Fushiguro's scent glands, as always. So why could he smell him?
Wait.
Waitwaitwaitwaitwait.
Realization hit Yuuji like a bullet train, but it was only as he met Fushiguro's wide-blown, pine green eyes that he truly noticed.
Was Fushiguro in heat ?
A pang of surprise reverberated through Yuuji before he was able to force himself to think properly. He froze, chestnut-brown pools of shock widening as he stared into space. Sure, he'd had all those weird health classes in school and been educated into the ground about secondary genders, but Itadori had never really seen an omega in heat. The only other person at Tokyo Jujutsu High he knew to be an omega was Inumaki-senpai (for some reason, Jujutsu Tech seemed to attract a shitload of betas), but he wasn't open about any of those kinds of things. Was this what heats were like?
That doesn't make any sense, a tiny, sensible fraction of his mind retorted in response to his frantic thoughts.
And the more Yuuji thought about it, that little voice was probably right. Fushiguro wasn't overly pushy like an omega in heat would be. He was just being... clingy?
The tiny voice materialized as a miniscule version of himself in Yuuji's mind. You idiot, did you have all of those health classes drilled into your head for nothing? It's preheat, dumbass.
While Yuuji didn't exactly appreciate that his inner voice of "sensibility" was beginning to sound a lot like Sukuna, it was right once again. Damn, he really felt dumb now - having half-conversations with himself in his head like a cheesy cartoon character. But by the time he was back to consciousness, Yuuji felt himself being tugged on. Confusion settled in once more as he was slowly pulled out of his dorm room backwards, presumably by Fushiguro.
Before Itadori could protest, maybe ask what was going on, he was already in Fushiguro's doorway. The shorter teen then nudged at Itadori's back once he was in the room, clearly trying to get his attention.
Now that Itadori was back in the realm of consciousness, he was able to realize a few more things.
One being that an omega's scent was a lot stronger in their personal quarters. Two, that there wasn't actually a thief stealing his clothes, or rather a nesting omega - there was an oddly very organized pile of clothes, blankets and pillows laying atop Fushiguro's bed. After a few moments of searching, Itadori was able to make out his own missing clothes in the mix, as well - the ramen-cat shirt and those two hoodies.
There was no chance for Itadori to reprimand or even question Fushiguro as he examined the neat pile - the Ten Shadows user had other ideas. Removing himself from Itadori, he walked over to the nest, a proud air to his actions. With a slight cock of his head and a meeting of the two boys' gazes, he asked a silent question. Do you like my nest?
And suddenly, Yuuji's mouth felt very, very dry.
Fushiguro had used his things to nest. He wanted Yuuji's approval. Yuuji was sure that if he had a tail, it would be wagging furiously.
This was the same person who rarely, if ever, tolerated Yuuji. The same person who took every spare second he had to sit in his room, alone.
And this very same person - this very same omega - was currently building a nest that by the looks of it had something to do with him.
Yuuji felt a warm, pleased sensation fill his whole body, from the tips of his ears to the very ends of his fingers to the soles of his feet. He'd heard this feeling be described before - it's like when you're chosen. Like when you see a stray cat on the side of the road and it rubs against your leg and suddenly everything in the world is lovely - except Fushiguro was the cat. A giant, lovable, so-cute-it-hurt cat. He couldn't describe it, but it felt like something within him, something with a mind of its own, was suddenly very pleased by this adorable sight.
Yuuji's eyes stayed fixed onto Fushiguro as he slowly, carefully climbed into the nest, moving a few things around and then turning to look back at Yuuji. It was a pleading look, like... oh.
Fushiguro wanted Yuuji in the nest.
Well how could Yuuji say no to that?
Almost mindlessly, the vessel walked towards the bedside, then crawled into the nest after Fushiguro - careful not to mess up any of the neatly organized items around him. It was impressive, really, how it was just a simple instinct that was able to make somebody create something so... cozy. So soft. Yuuji liked it so much he questioned for a moment if he was some kind of soft omega instead of the alpha he thought he was.
The moment Itadori was in the nest, Fushiguro pressed himself right up against Itadori's side. Like, forcefully. Like he was trying to fuse himself with Itadori. He lifted his chin as he began to rub his scent over Itadori, almost in a possessive manner. Once again, Yuuji saw the catlike side to the action, and wondered silently if Fushiguro was really just a big cat in a spiky black wig; it had to be impossible for a real human being to be so cute. So cute and adorable that Yuuji almost felt lightheaded the more Fushiguro scented him.
Maybe it was just his stupid secondary gender talking, but he was sure that he could drop dead in this moment and he would die willingly without resistance as long as Fushiguro was here, drowning him in his sweet, herbal scent. Screw it, he'd be happy to drop dead in this moment. Talk about a proper death.
Satisfied and finally relaxed, Fushiguro curled up against Yuuji's chest, the tip of his perfectly shaped nose nuzzling against the crook of his neck, still subtly scenting him. That alone could have absolutely made Yuuji lose his mind, no doubt, but when he let out a sweet, soft little sigh Yuuji knew he was done for. God, he could cry from how adorable Fushiguro was being.
And then Yuuji made an inexcusable mistake; he moved over.
Well, not really. Maybe to this omega version of Fushiguro it was, though, even if it was just to shift Fushiguro's weight over to keep Yuuji's arm from going entirely numb - Fushiguro had chosen to lean about half of his body weight onto the one arm, what was Yuuji supposed to do otherwise? The raven-hair shot up, his sweet scent souring in the very, very slightest. No! His alpha wasn't going anywhere - he'd only just gotten him to stay. Megumi stiffened briefly, pressing his weight onto Yuuji as the thought of Yuuji getting up and leaving disturbed his happy thoughts.
But he didn't make puppy-dog eyes or whine or anything to get Yuuji to stay. No, he growled.
Not anything scary, just a quiet, low sound from his throat, tiny omega canines bared. It was a clear message, though, and the most Fushiguro one he had communicated during the entire night - "Leave, and I'll kill you."
Even if it was meant to be intimidating, Yuuji found himself in a bit of a predicament - if you could call a heart melted into a puddle a predicament, that is. He couldn't decide whether to coo at the cuteness of Fushiguro trying to be intimidating while in such a soft, cuddly state or die on the spot at the thought that Fushiguro really thought Yuuji wanted to leave. The fuck? First of all, how in the hell would any alpha ever want to walk away from something so cute? Second, Yuuji was a sane being, alpha or no. Even the greatest and most powerful of alphas and men in the world buckled at the knees when it came to cuddles. And as The Strongest In Training, he fell under that category. Sue him.
He wouldn't just up and say that, though. Yuuji could realize, even with his stupid brain, that this wasn't just a possessive reaction (even if the thought of a possessive omega, let alone Fushiguro as a possessive omega made Yuuji want to shut down the rest of his mind forever and just lose it). There was vulnerability there, even if it was hidden deep below.
With a gentle sigh, the alpha reached up and put his hand on the side of the omega's face, palm pressed against his cheekbone as his thumb gently caressed his slightly feverish temple.
"Fushiguro. It's okay. I'm not goin' anywhere." Even if Yuuji may have been one to joke around more often than not, the sincerity in his voice just then was absolutely unable to be overlooked.
Like a switch had been flipped, the once-agitated omega slumped down onto Yuuji, leaning into the gentle touch of the larger teen. Even despite the fact that Yuuji had just been dying of cuteness aggression, something about the moment at hand made him feel more warm than antsy and overwhelmed by adoration. It was a kind of reassuring gentleness that was just... Yuuji.
Silently, Fushiguro sank down against Itadori, succumbing to the soft voice that repeated in his head. "It's okay."
Even if there were any worries within him in that moment, Fushiguro knew he was safe. It was all he could do to simply shut his eyes and soak it in, even if the tiniest bit of consciousness that lingered in his instinct-filled mind and told him that it would only cause more trouble later on; how would he ever explain this to Itadori? How would he ever make him understand?
Those thoughts, however, were thoughts for another day.
As Itadori gently, carefully caressed the omega's face, he watched as he slowly began to doze off. And somehow, the look of contentment written all over Fushiguro's expression was more adorable, more rewarding than anything else he'd seen that afternoon.
And hey - now he could say to the world that for once, he'd been chosen.