Chapter Text
There is a lot of Yuuji that people misconstrue. If he were to rank in order the common misconceptions about him, it would take him days to fully get on with the list. It's partly because he's too lazy to even jot down lecture notes during idle classes– but it's mainly because there are so many presumed categories associated with him that Yuuji simply does not fit in. And the categories that do align with how he truly is are less likely to be believed in.
For one, people assume instantly that he is an alpha. He's athletic, able to rival betas in impromptu marathons and baseball games. He's also lean enough to carry weights and boast flexing muscles. But Yuuji's figure is predominantly omega. He never grows beyond the expected height, flaunts a frame that's too lanky when compared to alphas and has wider hips to accommodate for the babies eager to grow in his uterus.
The second misconception that is evidently the most agreed upon by many, is that Yuuji is a sexually-liberated heathen who enjoys fickle affairs. In truth, he is discomfited by capricious relationships and dislikes too much sexual intimacy. He is a prude through and through– a pure church-boy who lives by Jesus' standards, as he is often nicknamed by his close friends.
Sukuna, the primary taunter of his religiously-intact chastity, can attest to that truth. In fact, if you were to muster adequate courage to ask him about his brother's virgin status, you'd be subjected to an earful of adjectives cackling about his prissy, puritanical approach to sex. That is, of course, after he beats the living shit out of you for even the slightest implication of your interest for his sibling. Sukuna is paradoxical, so best be attuned to his volatile temperament. Better yet, don't ask him about Yuuji if you don't want to trigger the wrath of an overprotective brother.
Now to the third, a notion that Yuuji will not go to excessive lengths to explain because it's easily understandable when you've read the inner ramblings he'd just listed – Yuuji is into partying. Yes, you've read it correctly. Partying. For some absurd reason, sexual activity is often paired with two cases of beer, a blinking floor and a crowd of hollering idiots at the peak of the evening glow. It's almost as if partying is exclusively for sex (as proven to how quickly number two and three assumptions caused Yuuji's misguided reputation). For Sukuna, that may be the case. Yuuji finds it hardly believable that two "fun" (it's debatable when in the company of jittery introverts) activities could correlate so well and so tightly that there's not a chance for indecision.
Partying, as Sukuna phrases obscenely, is like a wilderness where animals let loose and fuck until sunrise. Chousou terms it more properly as "a thing licentious adults are absurdly obsessed with", but the idea still maintains its vulgar implications. Perhaps to keep Yuuji out of the so-called corruptions of the unfeeling world.
"Not everyone who parties are expected to fuck, Yuuji. Some just wanna dance to generic beats so they can forget about shitty professors and dwindling midterm grades." Nobara doesn't even spare his brothers' words a minute of contemplation when she tells Yuuji this. She, just like most of Yuuji's peers, is a certified party animal who values her self-defined grandiosity. She refuses to acknowledge that partying could solely be for reckless debauchery and slippery lip-locking. To her, partying is a time with friends to revel in some good old indulgence that does not require dry-humping the nearest stranger to your right.
"A recreational venture." She says. "You drink shit, talk about shit, laugh about shit and pray to god you're not drunk enough to forget to videotape your dumbass friend when they're vomiting their guts out."
It's bonding time – to be concise. And it's the only reason Yuuji has ever entertained the idea of going to a party. Though, Megumi's wicked plans of dragging him into such a mess to avoid suffering alone were admittedly the primary reason why Yuuji is even here to begin with.
By here, he means stuck in the corner of some fancy VIP lounge (courtesy to Megumi's weeping wallet and Nobara's rich girlfriend), downing his third glass of coke while the rest of the room vibrate like it's the goddamn end-of-the-world earthquake.
"Would you like a different beverage?"
– oh yeah, there's also a guy badgering him for a conversation he so vehemently declines to take part in. The stranger is burly. Too haughty, too crass, and too alpha-ish. Yuuji doesn't like him one bit. And Yuuji likes everyone.
"No thank you, I'm fine with my..." Yuuji examines his drink. He hasn't sipped on it for a while so he wants to be sure it isn't spiked with anything suspicious. Chousou had advised him much too frequently about the perils of incaution that it's made Yuuji more attentive to even the trivial stuff. "...coke. Yeah, I'll stick with this one."
"Come on, it's a Saturday night. Have some fun." The man cajoles. He presses himself closer, the acrid scent of his sweat an intrusive offence to Yuuji's nose. "What do you want? Tequila? Don't hold back, it's my treat."
Yuuji is patient when he tries to dissuade the brazen advances. He gestures a palm, a clear sign of rejection. "I'd rather not. I'm the driver for this evening, you see. My friends, well, they..."
He ponders for an excuse, already unsure of how to proceed now that he's lied ever passing his driving test. Yuuji failed most of his lessons when he was 16. And when Sukuna had begrudgingly offered to help him, he hadn't had enough confidence to continue then. He isn't sure how he's going to succeed with such a ruse when he's barely able at convincing his teachers to give him a passing grade.
"The boy says no, Toshi. Learn to read signals." There's a voice, handsome with its intonation, and it interrupts loudly from across them. One glance and Yuuji is accosted by the gleaming sheen of silver snow. The man is tall, resplendent. Well-dressed. Noticeably moneyed. Muscular in all the right places and posture dignified. When he trudges further from out of the neon's glow, Yuuji could pick up the aroma of control. Alpha, he surmises instinctively.
"Gojo," The man glued to his left acknowledges, albeit grudgingly. He reclines on his seat as an act of defiance. Tilting a chin, he challenges, "Always up for the vulture's role, huh?"
Yuuji scowls. Was he just regarded as a scrap? A carcass up for anyone's taking? Oh, the nerve!
"I'd watch my tone if I were you." The alpha, Gojo, strolls ahead the passing crowd and towers over Toshi. He's suave and fashionable with his silver-rimmed black glasses, cool as he nudges the alpha's shin and claims the centre of the couch. The action inevitably results in Yuuji squeezed between the chair's armrest and the man's side. Neither men spare him a glance.
"What's it to you, shitty snowman?"
Gojo snorts at the insult. "Snowman? Heh, creative." The man leans on the backrest and breathes out a chuckle. Casually, throws an arm over Yuuji's shoulder. "But just so you know, the boy you're hitting on right now is Sukuna's brother."
Yuuji flinches. And so does the man on the other end. "You're shitting me right?"
"You're seriously not seeing the resemblance?" Gojo shrugs, cheeky. He cups his palm around Yuuji's elbow –a signal for the omega to confirm it. "If that demon were here he'd be real pissed right now."
The seemed to unsettle Toshi. There's a pause as he considers his choices. Perhaps, the threat of Sukuna's name weighed too much on his shoulder. Yuuji's guess is proven correct when, not a second later, the man evinces a scathing grunt.
"Should've said something sooner." He directs his glare at a restive Yuuji, crass as he grouses under his breath. Then, with a tipsy footing, he leaves. He doesn't wait for any more of Gojo's sallies.
"That was easy." The alpha does not remove his hand from where it rests amiably on Yuuji's billowy sleeve. His touch is hot, feverish even. When he stares at Yuuji, his gaze carries the same fervour. "If you didn't like his company, you could've just punched him."
Yuuji ignores the suggestion. "How do you know Sukuna?"
Gojo tips his head down, tinted lenses glinting. "We share classes. He's a bit of an ass, but nothing I'm not used to."
"So a third-year then?" Yuuji muses out loud. He fiddles with the brim of his drink, awkwardly wriggling himself out of the man's side-embrace. Gojo lets him, his grin never waning.
"And you must be a freshman." The alpha supposes. "What's a young cub doing in a place like this? You with your friends?"
Yuuji takes a sip, posture demure. He scans for his peers across the blinking room. There's Nobara with Maki and Megumi with Okkotsu. They're forming some sort of a loose circle, swaying to the melody of the music with drinks in their frisky hands. Megumi had been forcibly dragged to their antics. Yuuji would have tagged along had it not been for the throbbing ache in his head. Lurid lights and Yuuji do not make a good pair, it appears.
After a prolonged pause, Yuuji explains briefly, "They wanted to dance."
It's a rarity for Yuuji to refrain from joining. But his legs had been too worn out from all the sparring Chousou had urged him to take. The older insisted it was necessary for self-defence. You never know when a creep is lurking around, Yuuji, he'd cautioned.
"Too tired to keep up with the fun?" Gojo teases lightly. "I can see it's your first time."
Yuuji smiles despite the unfamiliarity. "It's not really my scene. I'm not supposed to be here."
"Let me guess, protective brothers?"
"Something like that," Yuuji answers vaguely. He's not about to perpetuate slander against his own siblings. "Thank you, by the way. The guy would've taken hours to leave me alone."
"It's no big deal." Gojo shrugs. "I like saving people. Helps boost up the charm points."
How vain, Yuuji inwardly muses. He can't exactly judge the man for it. His face holds credibility. Hell, he could be a model and Yuuji would be too dense to realise he's talking with some big shot.
"I can see that." So he comments instead. His cup is empty now, but Yuuji still feels thirsty.
Gojo glimpses at his drink and widens his grin. "Want me to buy you another one?"
"Oh, you don't have to. I wouldn't wish to trouble you."
"I can pay for it, don't worry." The man raises a palm. "But... if you really don't want to trouble me, how about a dance?"
Yuuji's eyes linger on the man. He purses his lips, conflicted. "I don't know... I–"
"Come on," Gojo offers a hand. "Just one dance."
It takes him a while to come to a decision, perusing over possibilities and risks that are disproportionate to whatever situation he's now landed himself in. Yuuji has two main choices: one, he can reject the offer and wait for three more hours until his friends are finally ready to go home or two, he can indulge the man and actually make the best out of his Saturday night.
"Fine," Yuuji caves. "Just one dance."
– he goes with two.
One dance turns to two, then three, then four and five. Somewhere in between the spinning and the twirling, Yuuji's throat dries up and he's urged to steal Gojo's drink. One drink turns to two, to three, four and then in a flash, Yuuji's downing seven.
The humid drafts pull them to the rhythm's speed and suddenly they're much closer than before. Yuuji has his arms around the alpha's neck and the alpha's palms are hot against his hips. Nose on nose. Lips on lips. There's some shameless grinding involved, coupled with flirtatious whispering and nibbling on each other's ears.
Yuuji giggles at something Gojo says as the alpha leads him away from the crowd. Their playful prancing gets them everywhere. To the dimly-lit corners that house little company, to the strait stairways leading to the exit, even to the freezing outside where a narrow alleyway awaits – and then to a pet shop that still glints in open invitation. They don't really buy anything, opting to drunkenly gush over the snoozing rabbits on display.
It was like being in a trance. Just the two of them wandering while doing the silliest impression of their favourite characters. There are a lot of snickering and endless chatters. There's teasing too, partnered with too much touching and skipping and landing in each other's embrace. As they venture into the later evening, legs wobbly in their walk, Yuuji gets the unprompted idea to invite the man over to his dorm. Gojo agrees, albeit sloppily.
Ruckus ensues as they make their way to Yuuji's kitchen. Coffees are served but they're toppled over the sink. Chairs screech and moans erupt. Tables are moved and lips collide. With a smooth transition, they go from chortling breathlessly to humping thighs. In just the span of three minutes, Yuuji finds himself naked in his living room – riding the shit out of a man like it's the whorehouse and he's got an overdue rent to pay.
The sounds they produce are resonant enough to make the walls groan with them. Limbs splay about and clothes scatter. Neighbours from the third floor yell at them to keep it down. And a stereo plays in the background to muffle Yuuji's ear-splitting yes, daddy, yes!
The whole situation feels much like an enactment of a documentary about animals mating in the wild – something Yuuji often sees featured in Discovery Channel. The moment Gojo realises he's got one hell of a flexible body, a spark of unbridled eagerness ignites. Again and again, they try out a variety of positions.
And when the fated morning comes, he wakes up alone with too many marks on his skin to count and an aching back that renders him immobile.
The alpha doesn't leave a single trace of himself but a piece of paper with his number on it.
Just one dance. What a load of crap.
Yuuji is feeling like shit. It's been two weeks since his unplanned venture into the dark, unhinged wilderness of fun-obsessed college students (an exaggeration, but Yuuji deems it necessary to have it pertained that way) and he's yet to feel anything but guilt and panic in his system. What's worst, it's nearing three weeks now. His remorse is more of an issue with his brothers, really. Yuuji hasn't disclosed to them about his first party undertaking and he fears he may not be able to hide it from them any longer. The panic he's unsure to address is what overruns that feeling.
Yuuji's heat is late. It's a warning that's more intense than the lingering soreness in his muscles. A late heat is no funny joke. And Yuuji just knows he's going to be in some hideous trouble if it doesn't come soon.
"I'm a reckless whore." He laments to no one as he buries himself into the couch's cushion. This is it, the epitome of Yuuji's greatest fuck-up has now manifested itself. He's a doomed, doomed man.
"Good evening to you too." Megumi grumbles as he nudges the omega for a free space.
Nobara is seated on her favoured lawson chair, quirking a brow as she nonchalantly praises, "Congratulations. You're one of us now."
"What do you mean us?" Megumi frowns. He shifts in his spot and cradles Yuuji's legs on his lap, thumbing the bruises of his knees. Softly, he pries about Yuuji's condition. "You still feeling sore?"
Yuuji's complexion colours, reminded of icy white and scintillating eyes. "A-a little. My ass still stings."
"Well, they do say firsts aren't always good." Nobara reaches for his head to ruffle the pink locks. Yuuji leans into the warmth of her soft palms and chooses not to correct her. He needs as much sympathy as he can get tonight to be able to pull off his big announcement. Contradicting the woman would just spell hellfire.
"So have you called the guy yet?" Nobara's voice is levelled, but there's a suggestive lilt to her vowels.
"No." Yuuji burrows deeper into the comfort of his knitted blanket. "Should I?"
"You don't have to if you don't want to." Nobara assures. "But it would be nice if you could finally score yourself a boyfriend. Might even cure your brothers' weird complex so they can stop clinging to you all the time."
Megumi scoffs. "I doubt they'd let him date anyone. Much less let him meet up with a stranger he had a one-night stand with."
"Oh please," Nobara waves a hand. The red of her nails glisten as she pins a strand of auburn behind her ears. "Sukuna can whore around with you and Chousou can do whatever it is he does with Naoya's ass but precious baby Yuuji can't? What a load of shit. This is the 21st century, honey. Learn to assert autonomy."
Yuuji squishes his cheeks against the fluff of his pillow. "They were right to forbid me from going to parties on my own."
"You weren't on your own." Megumi argues softly. The pressure of his fingers is faint on his shin. With each gentle press, a strain relaxes. "If Sukuna ever scolds you for going out with us, I'll be sure to take your side."
The omega sniffles, moved by the beta's solace. "Megumi, you're a godsend."
"Yuuji, Yuuji," Nobara tuts. "You know you wouldn't have this kind of problem if you just told your brothers to piss off. Dear god, those nosy weirdos fuss over you 24/7 they even have your heat schedule memorised! Weirdos, I tell you! Weirdos!"
Megumi winces at the volume of her rant. "Keep it down, witch. You're angering the neighbours."
"Not like I'm wrong." Nobara harrumphs. "The minute they get a whiff of Yuuji's pre-heat, they go running around like it's the new world war. You're never gonna get a boyfriend at this point if you let them act like that."
"I don't think they have to worry about that any longer," Yuuji mumbles, timid.
Nobara and Megumi still. They share a look, long and pensive.
"What do you mean?" Nobara squints.
Yuuji pulls himself up to face his friends. Okay. Here goes nothing.
"I think I might be pregnant."
After an earful of frenzied havering and a barrage of questions, Yuuji reluctantly agrees to buy a pregnancy test.
He never considered buying it. Really, Yuuji had no intentions of ever checking it. He can count on one hand the number of times he's had a scare like this - and they were always zero. There's no way an omega like him would ever fret about overdue heats. Just a month ago, it was the least of his concerns. Yuuji's too much of a prude for unlikely encounters like this and so he never thought he'd have to ready himself for it.
"Well, you got yourself fucked anyway Yuuji." At the back of his mind, he hears Nobara's resounding caution. "Might as well face the consequences now."
The consequences, Yuuji wholeheartedly believes, are appalling.
Here he was, stuck in the confines of a shared bathroom that's too cramped for him to pace around – mulling over the many scenarios of his brothers crying and rampaging. Yuuji isn't certain of how to go about delivering the issue if the test turns out pink. Yuuji isn't even confident he can manage to handle the little cross sign once it shows up.
But if things take a turn for the worse, Yuuji is provided choices. At least, that's what Megumi and Nobara assured. He hasn't looked into the options, and a part of him dreads ever having to.
Yuuji lets out a sigh. There's a tub near the bowl to lounge on so he makes use of the open space. Absently, he rubs a palm on his stomach. It's flat, soft and... brimming with life. Yuuji traces patterns around the navel and counts the months ahead. The chime of his phone alerts him then, its wiry tune roaming across the midnight breeze. With shaky hands, Yuuji dares to peek at the blaring strip that blinds his vision.
"Positive," He reads aloud. Fuck, Sukuna's gonna kill him.