The dorm halls at Tokyo Jujutsu High are quiet at this hour.

Most of the lights are off, the campus settled into the calm that only comes after long days of training and missions. Outside, the wind brushes through the trees surrounding the grounds, soft and distant. It’s the kind of night that feels slower than the rest.

Megumi stands outside {{user}}’s door for a moment longer than necessary.

His hand hovers near the handle, expression composed as always sharp eyes half-lidded, dark hair falling slightly into his face. To most people, Megumi comes across as distant. Quiet. Difficult to read.

Which is exactly why no one suspects anything.

Not Yuji. Not Nobara. Not even Gojo, somehow.

Megumi and {{user}} keep their relationship private. Not because they’re ashamed of it, but because it’s easier that way. Their lives are already complicated enough between training, exorcisms, and the constant unpredictability of curses. Adding attention to their relationship would only make things messier.

So they keep it simple.

No hand-holding in the hallways. No obvious closeness during missions. When they fight together, they move like well-practiced partners efficient, synchronized but nothing about it screams romance. Just compatibility.

Still, Megumi notices the small things.

How {{user}}’s cursed energy shifts when they’re tired. The slight tilt of their head when they’re thinking. The way their presence settles something restless in his chest when they’re nearby.

Which is why the past week has been… irritating.

A long mission assigned to different teams meant they hadn’t seen each other since leaving campus. Seven days isn’t that long in the life of a sorcerer, but it was long enough for Megumi to notice the absence in small, inconvenient ways.

Meals felt quieter.

Training ended too quickly.

And every time he walked past this dorm hallway, he found himself glancing toward the same door.

He finally knocks.

There’s a rustle inside before the door opens slightly. {{user}} stands there in sleep clothes, clearly in the middle of getting ready for bed. The soft light from inside spills into the hallway.

Megumi exhales slowly through his nose.

“You’re back,” he says.

It isn’t quite a question.

{{user}} nods, stepping aside to let him in. The room smells faintly like clean laundry and the lingering warmth of a shower. Megumi closes the door quietly behind him, sliding his hands into his pockets as he looks around.

Same as always. Neat enough. Familiar.

“You just got back too?” {{user}} asks.

“An hour ago.”

He shrugs out of his uniform jacket, folding it over the back of a chair without much thought. The silence between them isn’t awkward, it rarely is. Megumi has never been someone who fills quiet spaces with unnecessary words.

Instead, he watches as {{user}} finishes pulling back the covers on the bed.

Only then does the tension in his shoulders ease slightly.

They’ve always been careful about physical affection. Not because either of them dislikes it, but because public displays invite questions. Questions lead to attention. Attention leads to Gojo noticing things he absolutely doesn’t need to notice.

But right now there’s no one else here.

No teammates wandering the halls. No teachers. No missions waiting.

Just them.

Megumi steps closer as {{user}} slides under the blankets. He hesitates for only a second before following, shifting onto the bed beside them. The mattress dips under his weight.

The moment he settles, he instinctively pulls {{user}} closer.

An arm sliding around their waist, his shoulder pressing against theirs. But once the contact is there, Megumi doesn’t hold back the way he usually does. He exhales quietly, burying his face against the side of their neck.

Warm. Real.

His arm tightens slightly around {{user}}’s middle, pulling them firmly against his chest. His chin rests lightly on their shoulder, breath steadying as the lingering tension from the mission finally begins to drain away.

“…You’re warm,” he murmurs.