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someonexsomeone · 3 months

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Bus Boy

Title: Bus Boy

Author: SomeonexSomeone

Word Count: 2.5k

Pairing: NonSorcerer!Megumi Fushiguro x np!Reader

Summary: There's a really cute guy on your bus ride.

Authors Note: completely inspired by Laufey's "Beautiful Stranger"! okay listen listen listen I know Laufeyfest is over but I love this song sm and I'm sad I didn't put it on the official list so like just think about this as a spin-off type deal okay?

There's a really cute guy on your bus ride. Like, not just a fleeting, ‘eyes skimmed and appreciated and moved on’, but more of a ‘eyes skimmed, couldn’t comprehend what it saw, near whiplash to make sure I’m seeing what I’m seeing’ cute. He wasn’t looking at anyone near him, but the way he fluidly moved with the bus and the people around him made it clear he was more observant than his relaxed stance appeared. He was looking out the window, the sun shining just right on his face so every sharp angle was highlighted, his eyes sparkling as they watched the passing scenery. Eyelashes long enough to question if they were real or not barely fluttered as things whipped by, and didn’t move in any way to indicate he knew you were staring (which was impressive because you had been staring at him for just a tad bit too long at this point, and oh god, why won’t you look away? This has to be getting weird right?). His hair was dorky in an endearing way, spiked up in all directions, though it didn’t look like he had to use any product to get it that way. Effortless, just like the rest of him.

You were rather reluctant to come all the way out to the countryside for your summer vacation. To be completely honest, you nearly burst into tears when your parents decided you would go help out your grandparents for the summer, needing to ship you away while they went to whatever new conference they needed to attend. Plans that had been in the works for months suddenly went down the drain, and there was nothing you could do about it. You loved your grandparents, you really did, and their adorable farm on the outskirts was often a great place to get away and relive old memories. But, to be honest, there hasn’t been anything fun to do down there in years. You were older now, nearly the age where you would set out on your own adventure with all the freedoms and restrictions adulthood provided, which meant that you were much too old to be digging around in muddy creeks to look for frogs, or dressing up in ridiculous outfits to entertain your grandparents’ many friends. Both of those memories forced a shiver up your spine. If they made you reenact The Princess and the Frog again…

That was what most of the bus ride had consisted of, reliving old memories and having to physically stop your face from contorting by squeezing your hands together, until just as you were pulling into the town center, the cutest guy you had ever seen sat right across from you without warning. Your long stare was interrupted by his very being, and the way the sun haloed his head almost made you question if you were witnessing a real encounter with an angel on Earth. To be fair, you were sleep-deprived, barely managing to hop on this bus before it left the train station, bag being hastily shoved back together when it popped open from the force of your desperate attempt to get aboard. A complete mess, for lack of a better description. And here was some guy at… 5:30 am (?!?) looking like he was one wardrobe change away from walking down the runway. He definitely caught your eye, to which you hastily looked away, trying as hard as you could to will the universe into help you this one time in making the cutest guy you’ve ever seen not remember the person who made a fool of themselves by ogling at him with drool dried to the side of their face.

Now you think the universe listened a little too hard. Of all the things to really pay attention to, it had to be your wish to be forgotten by Bus Boy (Vehicle Man? Beautiful Stranger? Hot Farmer? Angel Guy? You had yet to come up with a good enough name to describe him), and not any of the other countless wishes you made before getting onto that fateful bus. You’re a little embarrassed to admit, but ever since that original meeting, you’ve been trying to get a second chance at a first impression. Any errand your grandparents needed to do, you were the first to volunteer. Grocery shopping, delivering or picking up from friends, even going as far as going back to the train station to pick up an emergency order, all to get a glimpse at your cute Bus Boy. It was even expected at this point, no one asking before dumping something in your hands with the shared bus pass placed on top. It was mortifying the teasing that came with it now, most of your family, and their friends, figuring someone was the reason why you were too excited to head into town, despite the many, many excuses you came up with to justify your actions (you were pretty proud of yourself for some of them, but, alas, your family is too romantic to want to believe anything else).

In the least creepy way possible, and with a lot of trial and error (which is also definitely not creepy), you were starting to notice a pattern in his daily routine. He rode the bus at an ungodly hour in the morning, seeming to head from the larger town to the farmland on the outskirts, getting on long before you would and a handful of stops before you, which made it difficult to see him then. In the afternoons, it seemed like he was the same type of errand boy you were, whether by choice or not you weren’t sure, but he rarely carried anything with him and it was a completely random chance that you would see him. At night, or, really, around sunset, he would be on the bus headed back towards the town, seemingly going home.

This seemingly random schedule, and the complete opposite nature of your bus routes, made it nearly as hard to avoid him as it was to see him. It seemed almost karma in nature the way he would always show up on days you weren’t feeling your best, just trying to get in and out or not bothering to put any effort into your appearance, and those instances where you were feeling great, on top of the world in confidence, he was nowhere to be seen.

Which is, of course, how you ended up here, staring (gawking) at him on the hottest day of the year. This had to be the ultimate punishment, all that complaining from the beginning of summer and the secret wish you had that something, anything, would prevent you from being forced to the outskirts of civilization topped with the fact that you’re kinda sorta stalking this guy who, let’s be real, has no clue you exist.

It was the most brutal day of your stay so far, being sent to your grandfather's close friend to help them move some things around. Easy enough, right? Wrong. It was only after you got there that they dared to tell you that they needed the entirety of their old shack emptied so they could tear it down to build a new one. Very exciting for them, a very mud-covered day for you. There wasn’t much you could do to salvage your clothes from the brunt of it, completely stiff from the dirt and grass and just years of grime that thrived in that neglected shed. One tumble involving a rusted bucket of mystery liquid destroyed your pants and shoes, and an accidental bump into a support beam sent a rain of rotten wood to really add to the whole experience. The couple was nice enough to send you back in some spare clothes so you wouldn’t dirty the bus with the worst of it, but you must have been a sight anyway because not a single person on the entire ride back had the decency to look subtly. The pants fit, thankfully, but they were bright pink and fuzzy, and the shirt was an old button-up that was nearly as ratty as the ruined clothes in the plastic bag by your foam sandal-covered feet.

To be honest, you were near tears, feeling pathetic.

And to make matters worse, Bus Boy, naturally, had to make an appearance and kill any happiness you hoped to find at the end of a grueling day. Sitting prettily, taking a break from the newspaper spread across his lap to watch the passing landscape, like some artist's wet dream. What were the odds that he was going to be on this stupid bus, far later than he ever did, passing all his usual stops, prolonging this horrible moment? You wanted to curl up into a ball, but there was also something healing about staring at this beautiful man that made breathing simultaneously easier and harder.

Now that you were looking closer, you could tell something was a little…off. What it was, you weren’t completely sure, but his usual relaxed stance was a little stiff, kind of like he was getting ready to bolt the moment the door opened. Honestly, you were surprised every time the doors opened and he remained where he was, just as tense, if not more, as the minutes passed.

Not that you were looking that closely, of course.

The one mission you had currently was to make it off the bus before he could get a good look at you. Not that you had any idea if he noticed you, before today or even right now, but the idea that maybe this could be your second first impression made you nearly jumpy as he looked. After that initial gawking session, you would only let your eyes pass briefly over his, just to make sure he wasn’t looking at you, before returning to look towards the front of the bus, willing it to go just a little faster. Of all the days to have Bus Boy ride past his usual stop, it had to be today. Your hands couldn’t sit still in your lap, one too many passes over your face has made it impossible to figure out if you just added more dirt or you were just that gross, and you had to force your leg to top bouncing because it kept nudging the bag at your feet, the crinkle of plastic booming in the nearly empty bus.

Then finally, finally, it pulled up to your stop. You were on your feet before the bus came to a complete halt, a rookie mistake as the doors always took a second longer to fully open, and, of course, Bus Boy had to be sitting right next to the exit. You bounced on the balls of your feet, the longest 4 seconds of your life. You couldn’t help it, casting one last look at the boy you had tried so hard to ignore all ride. And, to your horror, he was looking right back at you, stunning you into near rigor mortis.

Cute? What was I thinking? This guy is gorgeous!

“I-” his soft voice started (of course he had to have a nice voice too, are you freaking kidding me-), but you didn’t look up, forcing your way through the door the second they were wide enough, calling out a thank you to the driver over your shoulder, practically sprinting down the hill to your temporary residence. You were absolutely mortified.

Megumi watched you bolt with wide eyes, a blush creeping up his cheeks. He slapped a hand over his mouth, hiding his expression from anyone who dared to look over at him. It was the only thing he could do to stop them from shaking.

It was how Yuuji and Nobara found him three stops later, his legs nearly jelly as they pushed himself off the bus and into the darkening evening. His tight grip on the wad of newspapers he brought was nearly humorous.

“Woah! What’s up with you?” Yuuji called, jogging up to meet him. He was carrying a bag bursting with snacks under his arm, bounding up to him in anticipation of the star gazing the three were going to do tonight. Nobara leisurely strolled up beside him, arms gently carrying a blanket Megumi recognized as Yuuji’s. Megumi shook his head once, twice, trying to snap himself out of the spell you had cast on him, instead taking a second look at the now obvious women’s bag his friend was carrying.

“What’s with the bag?”

“Oh! Nobara was complaining about her shoulder acting up again, so I offered to carry it for her.” Megumi side-eyed his other friend, who was skillfully dodging his gaze in favor of examining her nails. It’s more than three months now since Nobara injured her shoulder helping our Yuuji and his older brother Sukuna reinforce a collapsing wall in their house (she was excellent with a toolbox, though it was rare for her to do any of the actual dirty work), a minor injury that didn’t even have her hospitalized, but every once in a while her shoulder will mysteriously ‘act up’ and Yuuji, who was horrified that his friend was injured in any capacity helping him, immediately is at her beck and call. “Gojo and the rest say hi, by the way. We passed each other on my way out, and he wanted me to bring you this.” Megumi rolled his eyes at the condom deposited in his hand.

“What an idiot.”

“He really is. Did he seriously think you’d have the courage to ask even though you’ve been creeping on them all summer without a word?” Megumi swung out his elbow, but Nobara simply sidestepped, putting Yuuji between the two of them.

“Shut up.”

“What, was your beautiful angel even more breathtaking today that you couldn’t ask them to come?” Nobara teased. Yuuji laughed, jostling Megumi to match the goofy atmosphere. After all, it wasn’t every day that their cool and collected friend looked as vulnerable as he felt.

Megumi hesitated, recalling immediately the adorable shyness you displayed today, something he hadn’t seen since that first night he saw you. Your face was covered in dirt, obviously exhausted, and in clothes that were definitely not yours. He easily remembered your flushed face as you made eye contact, the longest he’d had the pleasure to hold. He felt a pleasant shiver run up his spine.

“Yeah. Something like that,” he mumbled, his cheeks flaming bright pink. His companions didn’t give him a moment of peace, hounding him immediately for his more than obvious crush. Megumi rolled his eyes at them, chucking the unneeded (but not unwanted) condom in the trash as he ushered them to start their climb up the hill.

Next time, he thought, falling into step with his laughing friends. Next time, he’ll pluck up the courage to finally ask you to hang out outside your near-daily bus rides. And, while he’s at it, tell you just how beautiful you are.

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