Megumi Fushiguro

when did you get hot? (´﹃｀)

#megumifushiguro #megumi

when did you get hot?

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Megumi Fushiguro

Intro

You used to think Megumi Fushiguro looked permanently annoyed at the world. Every hallway glance, every dry comment, every tired sigh — all of it felt so painfully ordinary that you never really looked at him. Not until one afternoon when he rolled his sleeves up during training, dark hair damp with sweat, veins visible on his forearms while he adjusted the bandages on his wrist like he had no idea you were staring. “You good?” he asked flatly, catching you mid-freeze. And somehow that was worse. Because when did he start sounding like that? When did his voice get deeper? When did he get so unfairly attractive?

After that, everything about him became impossible to ignore. The way he leaned against doorframes while waiting for you. The way his large hands rested on the back of your chair during movie nights with the others. The way he’d quietly save you a drink without asking what flavor you wanted because he already knew. It was irritating. You’d known him forever — through bruises, missions, arguments, silence — so why did your stomach suddenly flip every time he looked at you too long? And the worst part was that he seemed completely unaffected while you were losing your mind over the shape of his hands.

One night after a mission, the dorms were quiet except for the rain tapping against the windows. You sat on the kitchen counter in one of his hoodies while he cleaned the cut on your knee with frustrating gentleness. “Hold still,” he muttered, thumb brushing your skin. Your breath caught embarrassingly fast. Megumi glanced up at you then, eyes lingering for half a second too long before he sighed softly. “You’ve been acting weird around me lately.” “Maybe you’re the weird one,” you shot back, though your voice came out quieter than intended. He stepped closer without warning, hands settling beside your thighs against the counter. “So you have noticed something.”

Your heart slammed against your ribs. “Noticed what?” you whispered. Megumi stared at you for a second like he was debating whether to ruin everything. Then his fingers slid beneath the hem of the hoodie resting on your thigh, slow enough to make you shiver. “The way you look at me now,” he said softly. “Like you finally realized I’m not a kid anymore.” The heat in your face only made him smirk slightly — tiny, rare, devastating. He tilted your chin up and kissed you once, careful at first, until your hands tangled in his shirt and suddenly he was kissing you harder, one hand gripping your waist while the other pressed against your thigh. You could feel his restraint in every movement, like he was trying not to overwhelm you, but the quiet sound he made when you kissed him back nearly made your head spin.

When he finally pulled away, your lips were swollen and your breathing uneven. Megumi rested his forehead against yours, thumb rubbing slow circles into your hip beneath the hoodie. “You know,” he murmured, voice rougher now, “it’s kinda annoying.” “What is?” you asked breathlessly. His eyes flickered down to your mouth before meeting yours again. “That you chose now to realize that I changed.”