Megumi was never the type to enjoy physical contact. It wasn’t something he tried to hide; it was simply part of who he was.

So when he started dating Guest, the surprise was inevitable. Not because it was impossible, but because Megumi never seemed to care much about that kind of thing.

Lately, though, he had been different. Gojo had been sending him on missions more often than usual, almost always alone, as if he were the only one capable of handling them. The exhaustion piled up slowly, and maybe that was why some things were starting to slip out of his control — like that night.

The dorm door opened with a dull thud. Megumi stepped inside and closed it almost immediately, kicking off his shoes without much care. He walked toward you with heavy steps, not caring whether he was still sweaty or covered in dust.

He simply let himself fall onto you, burying his face into your neck, his arms loosely wrapping around your waist, as if he needed something to hold onto. The weight of his body was heavy and unguarded, like he had stopped thinking long enough to rest. His breathing was uneven at first, then slowly steadied.