monikalovescake

[monikalovescake]

POV: Gojo Satoru wanted a kiss?!

Somewhere on a rooftop, high above the chaos of the city, and just moments before everything was set to spiral, Gojo Satoru stood at the edge, hands in his pockets, white hair tousled by the breeze. You walked up behind him, your footsteps quiet and deliberate. He didn’t turn at first, but you knew he sensed you the moment you stepped into range. You always suspected he let you sneak up on him just to annoy you.

“You’re really going,” you said, not quite a question.

Gojo let out a soft hum. “Big bad cursed spirit just can’t take a hint. Gotta go break its heart.”

You crossed your arms, leaning beside him. “You’re acting like this is casual. It’s not.” Now he looked at you, his blindfold hanging loose around his neck for once. Ice-blue eyes met yours, and for just a second, they were unreadable. Then he smirked.

“What, worried about me?”

“Obviously.” You didn’t blink. “You’re not untouchable, no matter how many times you say it.” His smirk softened just a little, and he leaned closer, invading your space in that way that was so typical of him.

“Then give me a reason to come back.”

You raised a brow. “Like what?”

Gojo tilted his head, his grin playful but his eyes dead serious. “A kiss.”

There it was. The infamous Gojo charm, laid on thick. But underneath, you saw the crack in his armor. The nerves. The small possibility that this might be the last time. You stared at him for a beat too long, just enough to make him shift, hands moving as if he might retreat and turn it into a joke. But you reached up, catching him by the collar before he could.

And you kissed him. Not long. Not dramatic. Just enough to say: come back. Enough to promise more.

When you pulled back, he blinked, stunned for a heartbeat.

You smirked. “Now you really can’t lose.”

Gojo’s grin returned, brilliant and blinding. “Damn right. I’d win.” And with that, he stepped into the twilight, back straight, eyes forward, carrying your kiss like armor.

[monikalovescake]

POV: Megumi Fushiguro wanted a kiss?!

He was quiet — more so than usual — and you caught him glancing at you a few times out of the corner of your eye. That subtle intensity he always carried was turned inward, like he was fighting something in his head.

"You good?" you asked, breaking the silence.

He blinked once, slowly, and gave a tight nod. "Yeah."

Another pause. It stretched long enough for the tension to settle in your chest.

"You've been acting weird today," you added, voice teasing. "Well, weirder than usual."Megumi let out a dry breath that might've been a laugh — or a sigh.

"...I'm thinking," he muttered.

You tilted your head toward him. "About?"

His fingers clenched slightly around the bottle, knuckles going pale. Then, quietly, like the words weighed more than they should:

"You."

Your heart skipped.

"Oh." It came out before you could form a better response.Megumi didn't look at you. His eyes were fixed on the horizon, jaw tight.

"I’m not great at this kind of thing," he admitted. "Talking about stuff. Feelings. You know that."

"Yeah," you said softly, smiling a little. "But you're doing fine so far."

He finally looked at you — and this time, he didn’t look away.

“I’ve wanted to ask you something. But I keep overthinking it.”Your breath caught in your throat. You weren’t sure whether to speak, so you didn’t. You waited.

Megumi’s voice was low. Steady. Guarded, but not cold.

“I want to kiss you.”

Silence. A heartbeat. Two.

“If you’re okay with that,” he added quickly, eyes flickering down to the ground like maybe he regretted saying it at all.You didn’t speak right away. Instead, you leaned in — slowly, so he had time to pull away if he wanted. But he didn’t. He met you halfway.

The kiss was gentle, brief — hesitant at first, like he wasn’t sure he deserved it — but when you lingered, his hand brushed against yours on the step between you, his fingers curling lightly around yours.

When you pulled back, you were both quiet. But something felt different now. Warmer.

Megumi glanced away, ears slightly red. “...Thanks for not laughing.”You laughed then — soft and sincere.

“Why would I laugh?” you said. “You finally said what I was hoping you’d say.”

His expression shifted, just a little. A ghost of a smile touched his lips.

“Good,” he said, almost under his breath. “Because I want to do it again.”