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The bunny is curled up at the base of the tree, a lump of white fur against the grass, and Yuuji’s heart just about initiates the process of growing two sizes too big for his chest. It looks so cute, sitting there in the shade. So cute, he won’t put it past himself not to pass out from a sugar-induced stroke.
“Megumi, look!” Yuuji says, scooping up the bunny with kind and gentle fingers. He sets it on his lap, where it makes a brief fuss before drifting off once again. “I think it likes me,” he adds in a reverent tone.
A few paces away, Megumi stands with his hands in his pockets. His face is dappled by the sunlight breaking through the leaves overhead, and his eyes seem brighter, more vivid, because of it. He looks like he might be smiling—or at least close to it.
“Behind you,” Megumi says.
There’s the pitter-patter of tiny feet and the rustling of grass. Yuuji’s head turns to a pleasant surprise. More bunnies—quite a number of them. All white, each one bearing a distinctive mark that brands a shikigami. It wouldn’t be far-off to say he feels very much like a forest witch with an affinity for summoning woodland creatures. “Do they have names?” Yuuji says, watching as a bunny darts idly through a patch of wildflowers.
A light thump; Megumi has settled down on the spot besides him. He draws up a knee to his chest, and leaves the other leg outstretched. “Uh, no. I haven’t thought about that at all, actually.”
Another bunny joins the one sleeping on Yuuji’s lap. “What? Really? Can I name them, then? Please.” He makes sure to bring out the puppy-dog eyes for this, even though they haven’t been needed for a while; these days, it doesn’t take much for Megumi to agree to what he says. Still, he cranks up the effect to a ten. It’s overkill but that’s precisely the point.
Megumi reddens, slightly. Intended effect: achieved. “Whatever. As long as you aren’t too weird about it.”
Yuuji grins. He holds out bunny number one. “Megumi, meet Fairy Princess. Fairy Princess, say hello.”
“Fairy Princess.” Megumi blinks. “Seriously?"
“Hell yeah, this is for real.”
The naming process goes on for a bit. Eventually, silence settles once again, and then Fairy Princess is running off to play with the other bunnies. There’s Peter scampering around, joined by Marshmallow and 01212. They’re absolutely silly names, but so what.
“Do you feel okay now?” Megumi says after some time, his eyes levelling to meet Yuuji’s.
Yuuji’s face warms, because it’s hard not to feel the weight of that gaze, whole and luminous against his skin. He can’t help but think: he wants this, always. The curve of Megumi’s smile, soft and spun sugar. The low rasp of Megumi’s voice, warm warm warm in his chest. The press of their hands together, Megumi’s thumb tracing patterns from wrist to heartline.
“What do you mean by okay now?” Yuuji laughs, raises his eyebrows. “I mean, I feel fine and stuff, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“I noticed you looked kind of out of it earlier,” Megumi continues. “So I put two and two together, figured that something was bothering you.” It is just like him, to be attentive. And it’s gratifying, in a way, this simple fact, the knowledge that there’s someone out there who cares about Yuuji enough to pick up on subtleties he doesn’t even realize are out in the open for everyone to see.
A lot happened these past few months. If Yuuji were better at compartmentalizing, maybe he would think about it less, stop replaying those memories in his head. But he’s not, and as a result, it shows in ways that he can’t, won’t, even begin to think about right now. It is hardly the proper time.
“Hey.” Yuuji squeezes his hand. “I’m good. Don’t worry about it. Scout’s honour, I promise.”
Megumi nods. “If you say so. I just—hate seeing you upset. That’s all.”
A thumb against his pulse-point. Megumi’s heart in his hand. It’s a bit too much to name, this sensation: the butterfly-wing flutter in his chest, and that dizzying vertigo that accompanies a freefall. There are only so many ways one can interpret this feeling, he knows, the force of it strong enough to overwhelm.
“Well, at any rate, I’m really glad you’re here with me,” Yuuji says brightly.
“Hope they helped,” Megumi says, gesturing to the bunnies around them.
Megumi summoned them for him. For him. Yuuji’s stomach does a funny little dance, and Megumi is one hundred percent at fault here. He’s so cute, it hurts. It’s almost too much to take in.
They get to their feet. The sky above is cloudless blue-orange, and it is beautiful. Megumi moves ahead, and his figure cuts a crepuscular outline against the glow of springtime. Dressed in sharp black, he seems to draw in shadows as he wends past trees. They form an aisle around him.
It takes Yuuji a second to catch up. And then he’s placing a hand on Megumi’s elbow. “So, are we going back already?”
Their steps halt. Megumi turns his head, and there’s something in his expression that makes Yuuji’s breath hitch. Half-shadowed, the colours of his eyes seem even more startling. His hair shines, dark as obsidian, where they spill over his forehead, and suddenly it is hard to think, even harder to breathe. Yuuji almost recoils from it, from the want that sinks in, sudden and overwhelming as a tide.
Megumi’s gaze lowers to Yuuji’s mouth. “Do you want to?”
Yuuji’s lips part. His hands settle on Megumi’s shoulders, and then he’s leaning in, the answer there in the firm press of his mouth. All the sensation in Yuuji’s body then narrows down into two very significant points: the warmth of their lips drawn together, and the burn of Megumi’s hands on his hips.
The kiss is soft, slow. Sweet. It is the only thing that comes into crystal focus, as the rest of the world falls away. Yuuji’s fingers tangle into the strands of Megumi’s hair, his other hand cupping the curve of Megumi’s jaw, and the muffled sound Megumi makes drips into his veins like wine.
They break apart, by an increment, to gasp for breath, but then they’re kissing, again and again. The motions become a lot more intense, maybe a little desperate, and they lose track of time. Heartbeats take the place of minutes, seconds. Eventually, they pull away. Megumi’s mouth is dark, kiss-red, and his hair—well, it’s ruined. He looks ruined, in general. Yuuji did that. It’s a pleasing thought.
Megumi brings up Yuuji’s wrist to his lips, places the lightest kiss there—and holy shit. Holy shit. Yuuji was wrong. It is absolutely not Megumi who is the ruined one, because there’s just no recovering from this. Yuuji’s brain has short-circuited to the point of no return.
“I—uh, give me a moment,” Yuuji breathes out, face feeling flushed beyond reason.
Megumi can only stare, amused, and it really is unfair. The only consolation is that at least his cheeks are pink all over, too.
“Maybe we should go back,” Yuuji mutters, and this time it is not him who closes the gap between them with urgency.
The way Megumi is kissing him, hard and deliberate, makes Yuuji think: they’re not going away any time soon.