Toji + Yuuji Petplay Chapter 2

“Effort.”

Toji’s view of it was parsimonious, if not restrictive. The dry and dearth oasis of energy he facilitates would be enough to “get by” lest a “job”, be it the casino, horse racing, or beheading one of the Jujutsu sorcerers, called for him.

Rarely did Toji let things like “emotions” intervene in his everyday life, a luxury he didn’t want to afford.

Money, though, was an expenditure frivolously spent. He’d drain that well dry until it needed replenishing.

So he thinks, and rarely does Toji venture further into the depths of why he feels a certain way, why this kid gravitated towards him. He’s bright and cheerful while Toji is rather dour, all things considered. He didn’t do anything to warrant this odd kindness.

He came over out of convenience, mainly. A place of residence he knew and didn’t have to pay cash was preferable to a shoddy motel. He didn’t even have to disclose what his “work” was as Yuuji settled with a simple “It’s a secret.”

He never spoke about his past, not his last name or the thrill and blood he bathes in when he kills people in the society that rejected him. This kid was fine with “Call me Toji,” and didn’t require unnecessary nomenclatures.

Maybe that’s why he’s stuck around; an easy relationship. And perhaps, there were strings attached with his cordialness sufficing as adequate payment, but they were ones he could cut at any time.

Toji blinked at the doorknob at his waist. His phone screen is bright with three contacts with one of them no longer in service.

Eight in the morning.

A few hours of sleep, he went out again to play the pachinko machines, and now he’s back where he left.

He taps the keypad carefully with a click! and enters. The smell of pancakes and blueberry muffins, alongside a “welcome home”, makes Toji almost embarrassed to feel a tingle in his stomach.

Or, he might have mistook it as growling. His stomach practically howled at the sight of Yuuji’s cooking.

Yuuji with his black apron on, a gift from Megumi, laughed and pointed to the dozen pancakes stacked high on Toij’s plate, somehow all still straight as a bamboo shoot.

He remembered the time Yuuji asked him what his favorite food was. It was around when he started frequenting his visits, lazing around since he had made enough from a recent target.

“I don’t have any,” Toji yawned while laying on the couch with his feet resting above the back pillows, “Why do you want to know?”

“If you’re going to stay for dinner, I want to make something you’d like!” Yuuji insisted; he was on the other side and engorged in the latest magazine about cookware.

“…Kid, I don’t need that. Make me whatever you feel like. Just skip the booze.”

Yuuji frowned, his eyes skimming the last sentence and lost in thought. He lowered the magazine. “Are you sure?”

“Sure as I can be.”

The next day, Toji counts at least thirty dishes individually plated and meticulously crafted, all laid out for him.

He is speechless, justifiably annoyed that Yuuji put so much length into something Toji didn’t think mattered.

Yet, he can’t muster the strength to see himself out and resigns himself to the seat Yuuji shoved him to.

He’s been the cynosure of others and found not an iota of merit in that accomplishment. In their imaginative minds, the facade of sweetening him with physical gifts could be exchanged with a favor. His reputation precedes him after all and many thought to take the scenic route instead of offering money, or a cursed weapon. At most, he’d acknowledge whatever “offering” they produced that they assumed catered to his liking and discarded it later.

Yuuji never really did have a strange motive, though, other than wanting him to be here. Or was that weird in itself? Toji had no reason to become suspicious, but before he knew it, that feeling swelled like a balloon about to pop.

“I asked Megumi what he liked,” Yuuji announced, proudly pointing to the dish of takoyaki, “he said it’s good with pickled ginger!”

Toji’s smile wavered for a second; that must’ve been a coincidence.

“Nobara, she’s the complete opposite,” Yuuji gestured to these blackened soba noodles, “Did you know she hates pickled things? She told me that charcoal stuff is all the hype.”

And what did “hype” mean?

I did say he could make what he wanted… Toji thought. While he traces the mouth of the glass cup set out for him, choices between amusing the kid with an unctuous compliment or to emphasize that such altruism was unnecessary danced across his fingers. Eyeballing the takoyaki some more, Toji picks one up with chopsticks and swallows it whole. It’s lukewarm, but still tasty with hints of ginger inside.

“…It’s good,” Toji concluded; are there really other important descriptors other than “good” when it comes to food? He wouldn’t have known them, “Put some liver instead of octopus next time.”

“Sure!…Wait, what?” Yuuji’s sudden disheveled look made Toji almost snort while eating another takoyaki ball.

“…I like organs, Kid,” Toji leans in with one hand on his chin, “You know, intestines, hearts, all of that.”

“Really?” Yuuji’s eyes twinkle and sheen even after hearing that, nodding enthusiastically. He whips out his phone to make a note, ostensibly not without a teasing remark of “Are you a cannibal by any chance?”

“No,” Toji responds with a huff, albeit an entertained one, “But you might be with how much you bit me the night before.”

He is referring to the other day when Yuuji sporadically pounced on him in bed and marked him. A typical response would be that Yuuji would blush, wriggle his body in embarrassment, and flap his hand like a duckling while saying “Stop that, Toji!”

Toji, with a pleasant smile, is not surprised at it being effective as the muscles on his face threaten to widen and show the gleam of his teeth while Yuuji stares blankly back at him. Yuuji’s eyes skim the dishes, only managing a poor attempt at concealing a chuckle.

“I guess I’ve taken a liking to the taste of you.”

The seriousness made Toji want to break out into a rambunctious laugh, the kind of joy he had thought he lost a long time ago.

“By the way, my name isn’t ‘Kid,’” Yuuji corrected him. “It’s Yuuji.”

Ah. Toji had forgotten again.

“Yuuji…what?”

“Itadori. Yuuji Itadori.”

They finished the rest of the dishes together. Toji left after that with Yuuji’s kiss on his forehead as a souvenir.

Offals were the last pickings for those deemed unworthy. A fresh cow, butchered to serve the Zen’in the highest quality meat, was not given to Toji. He was thrown the scraps and their revolting tastes eventually found their home to his palette. It’s one of the few tactics he used to survive in that shitty place called a “home”.

But Yuuji’s place wasn’t a shitty one, and he’d make liver taste delicious.

What did Yuuji think of Toji, then?

After he had paid for dinner, they exchanged contact numbers which Yuuji found out later that said number was fake. He randomly met him again at the pachinko parlor.

“My apartment is five minutes from here,” Yuuji said, “You’re free to come by.”

There’s little explanation as he dropped the keypad code note in Toji’s hand. It wasn’t hard to deduce Toji didn’t have a place to stay due to his worn-down sweater and sweatpants combo.

Toji (he learned his name by way of persistent interrogation), he found out, was a taciturn that he had to observe rather than be an active participant.

In him being the complete opposite of Gojou, Yuuji found himself comparing Toji to him anyway. Gojou loved to talk just as much as Yuuji whilst Toji valued his space. He barely initiated conversation and if mandated he speak, they were curt and dismissive.

Gojou’s eyes were especially daunting. He doesn’t see them often, but when he lifts up that blindfold, they are as bright as the blue sky. Radiating confidence and passion in such luridness, it makes Yuuji’s body weaken into a drunken stupor.

But when he stares at Toji, his gaze is at an abyss Yuji couldn’t see. Something lifeless, full of dread, yet so tantamount Yuuji could never equate to. Though he smiles as if nothing is wrong, the creases of his lips were like a wrinkled paper bag, trite and old.

For the first few weeks, they simply existed in the same space with no strife. The small talk Yuuji did in an attempt to water a budding relationship did nothing; Toji held his the roots of his past close, and his lips even tighter.

His job?

Well, Yuuji knew it had something to do with curses, but the rest was kept secret.

Hobbies?

Sleeping and gambling. The occasional social smoke maybe, from the waft of tobacco and motes of ash on his clothes.

What about age?

Mid-thirties, probably. Even Toji forgot.

It would be wise to not associate with people who didn’t want friends, but Yuuji felt like Toji wouldn’t have continued visiting if he didn’t want some sort of connection. It wasn’t as if Toji completely ignored his advances; he at least got far enough for greetings and farewells.

“Can you lend me some money?”

Yuuji heard that pretty quickly. He was sure Toji didn’t expect a credit card to land in his palm and saw the excitement in Toji’s stoic expression.

Was it bad as Yuuji hid his smirk, that he thought “Toji was easy to please”? He let Toji keep the card and use it for whatever he wanted.

It was then one day when it snowed with Yuuji’s air conditioning system not working, Toji came into his house without warning and they shared a bed together with a heated blanket, quilt, and a heater.

He thinks that’s when he properly fell for him. He touched the air and imagined he was tracing the corners underneath Toji’s eyes in his peaceful sleep. Yuuji wanted to see more until he could envision the reflection of that serene face on every dewdrop of rain.

They kissed soon after; what are we, Yuuji asked. Toji presented a hapless explanation that they were nothing more than friends. Despite that, they engaged in various acts of intimacy from eating dinners together to sleeping with each other.

He’d be lying if he didn’t want more, albeit he dares not revel in disclosing ruminating ideas of how he wanted to pin him down and tell him it was alright here.

That he didn’t have to run, everytime it felt like they were getting closer.

If there’s one negative trait Yuuji could say about Toji though, it was that he had horrible timing.

Absolutely, terribly, the worst.

Not just once, don’t even count on it being twice, but the multitudes of times he’s caught Yuuji when he’s going to do something else has to be more than a coincidence.

He had made plans to meet up with his two friends to do some shopping; Megumi at his favorite book store and whatever was trending in hashtags for Nobara. Toji had already left when he woke up, so he thought they wouldn’t meet again until the late evening.

That is, until Toji came in with blood dripping from his chin right as Yuuji was going to sprint to the station.

“Toji?!” Yuuji exclaimed, body bouncing rapidly to examine every inch of him. He hastily moved him inside and locked the door.

“…Didn’t think you were here. I’m-” Toji says only to be cut off by Yuuji slamming a towel to his face.

“-You’re fine. I’ve heard it before!” Yuuji replies. Leading and sitting Toji on the couch, a small bucket filled with water is placed between his legs.

“…Your place was nearby,” Toji pulls the towel down from his face, “mind if I hide here?”

Yuuji’s nose scrunches. He’s always hated seeing clear water turn red.

“You can do what you want. I don’t want to impose.”

If he had it his way though, he’d be harping and nagging about Toji’s so-called work. But he knows enough about Toji that interjecting his opinion on matters Toji did outside of their apartment would sour their tenuous relationship.

“…I see.”

Yuuji silently washes off Toji’s face, caressing the sides of his cheek to ensure the residuals of blood were completely gone. “I’m going to meet with some friends. I’ll be back later.”

Yuuji is stopped by Toji’s powerful hand around his wrist.

“It was a job.” Toji said with his gaze down at the floor. The sound of droplets into the bucket was like a cacophony. Unable to hear anything Yuuji said, Yuuji is pulled down and crashes his head against Toji’s chest.

“Toji, you don’t have to tell me. I’m not angry.” Yuuji said. He says it again while staring at Toji’s hollow gaze, lacking any life. After the high of a battle comes the realization of the enduring pain, the unchanging quota, and Yuuji understands all too well.

The breath of Yuuji’s unwavering eyes, archaic smile, and Toji has no choice but to possessively grip him. He zips down Yuuji’s hoodie and Yuuji’s eyes flutter shut, embracing the thin threads of sanity Toji had left with each suckle to his skin.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Nobara!” Yuuji shouted. He rushed past the crowd to greet her, “Sorry I’m late!”

Nobara examines Yuuji’s casual attire of a lame blue hoodie and jeans in hot Tokyo summer. She threw her fist back and stuck out a fat thumb to the entrance of the shopping mall. She, on the other hand, was dressed to impress with her loose sleeve white blouse that had a transparent black lincrusta design above her chest. Her black skirt is a perfect cut to advertise to any potential modeling scouts.

“Megumi’s waiting at the coffee shop,” Nobara squinted, “Did you get a girlfriend?”

“Okay! And,” Yuuji rapidly blinked, “What makes you say that?”

“Seriously? Are you dumb?” Nobara grabbed the collar of his hoodie and yanked it, exposing his shoulder blades, “You’re making it kind of obvious.”

Marks, and ones that had didn’t have a hint of restraint. They were embedded in deep, dark purple. Yuuji did not push her hand away. He stood there with his back erect while excuse after excuse bounced around his mind.

And yes, his face was extremely red. Redder than he’s ever shown Toji.

“U-Uh…” Yuuji stuttered, “I…Uhm…”

Nobara aggressively shook him, “If you tell me it’s a pet, I’ll call you an idiot right here and now!”

Was that because Nobara would feel sorry for the make-believe pet or she really wanted the truth? Yuuji held onto her wrist gently. “It was someone, but not a girlfriend.”

He really didn’t want to lie to her anyway; he thought honesty would calm her down, but Nobara pulled Yuuji so close that their noses touched.

“If it’s a boyfriend, I’ll kill you,” Nobara glared, “And if it’s someone who hurt you, I’ll kill him. You hear me?”

Yuuji breathed a sigh of relief and nodded, “Loud and clear-”

“So which is it?!”

Yuuji clamped his eyes shut and shouted, “N-neither! It was a friend!!! I promise I’m okay!”

Only then did she release him. Yuuji scratched the back of his head and followed behind her. Megumi suspirated when he heard footsteps towards his table inside of the coffee shop.

“You’re late,” Megumi flatly noted, “A full hour.”

“My bad…” Yuuji bowed forward half way, “I’ll pay your ticket for the movies today.”

“Get this,” Nobara sat next to Megumi and sipped her expresso that had an egregious amount of sugar, “Yuuji’s got a friend.”

“Oh, really,” Megumi dryly said without taking his eyes off of his book, “Is it the one that left a mark on him?”

“Do I really make it that obvious?!” Yuuji planted his forehead on the table, “I thought…”

“The problem is that you think,” Megumi going on full blast with a hard slam of the pages, “And then wear a thick hoodie while it’s 37 celsius.”

He’s wearing a long sleeve too, but it’s made with breathable fabric. There’s a difference!

“Nobara…” Yuuji pretended to pout, cheek pressed against the cold wooden table, “Megumi is bullying me. Do something, please…”

He should suggest Toji not to bite if he’s meeting with friends, though something tells him Toji wouldn’t like hearing that. It wasn’t a big deal that his friends knew. He was planning to announce it on his own accord. It’s just embarrassing to be found out this way.

“Why?” Nobara playfully touched the edge of Yuuji’s chin to lift his face up, “Your ‘lover’ over here is worried about you.”

Yuuji wiped away his crocodile tears and looked at Megumi with puppy-dog eyes, “Is that true?”

Nobara snickered and started jabbing Megumi’s side with her elbow, “You’re the one who mentioned it to me. C’mon, spill it.”

Megumi reached to pull at his collar thinking it was his Jujutsu uniform and when he realized it was hot air, fell deeper into the growing flush on his cheeks. He looked away and tapped his book on Yuuji’s head gently.

“Just tell us if he’s causing you trouble.” He relented.

Yuuji stayed in place, giggling at Megumi “patting” his head with the corners of the book. It’s sharp and was going to ache later, but he’s never been happier to have friends like them.

“Toji!”

Toji’s eyes shot wide open and in less than a second, had the person who said his name pinned underneath him on the couch.

“Oh, It’s you.” Toji said, pretending to sound disconsolate, “Back so soon?”

Yuuji sighed, unappreciative of the assault. He wrenches his arms out of Toji’s loosening grip, pointing above and behind his head.

“I bought your favorite.” Yuuji said. He sits up as Toji’s eyes light up like Christmas lights. Toji was well enough to eat, at least. It’s rare that a styrofoam container having sausages made from left-over animal organs would be someone’s go-to meal, but he’s glad it’s Toji’s.

“Thanks,” Toji stabbed a fork in the middle of one of the sausages and took a large bite, “Just when I was going to get dinner.”

The tips of Yuuji’s fingers slide across the couch; he feels evaporating heat and tastes somberness on his tongue.

Liar. Yuuji thought, You were going to sleep the entire time.

He watches the television in vacant silence. Toji joins him; the news presenter retells nothing interesting that transpired today, so Yuuji starts scrolling through his phone and tries to maintain a composed face to hide the increasing panic.

Should I ask if he’s okay? He thought, and no, that wouldn’t be a good idea. Maybe what he wants to do tomorrow? I could take the day off…

That’s not guaranteed and he can’t exactly refuse an offer to learn something from Gojou if he can help it. Yuuji glances back and forth, then throws his head back and groans aloud. He really, really, wants to be a chatterbox and say the first thing that comes to his head, but wouldn’t Toji find it onerous to deal with?

Background noises of an infomercial about a pet store and their puppies buzz around like the flitter of bee wings and Yuuji uses it to break the tension.

“Do you like dogs, Toji?” Yuuji shouts, and looks at Toji dead in the eyes, “Puppies are pretty cute, right?!”

“Yeah, I guess?” Toji responds, “I wouldn’t buy one.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’d have to take care of it.”

A puppy would be nice, Yuuji thinks. His eyes soften and he hides half of his face into his hoodie, “It would be nice to watch it grow up, don’t you think?”

Toji grunts; if any in another environment like a love hotel or some other one night stand’s place or if literally anywhere else than Yuuji’s presence, he’d create some elaborate lie that yes, he could be convinced a puppy sounds like a great idea. He would implant some mystical idea that he’d enjoy it so much and please, you’re too kind so he could be turned into a “dog lover”.

The image of its slobbering tongue over his skin, hairs on his worn-down clothing, feeding and walking it, treating it like some four-legged child and ogling it with cute names sounded more of a burden than benefit.

“Not interested.” Toji gets up and grabs a soda from the fridge. When he sits down again and pulls back the tab, Yuuji’s got a playful look.

“I already have one that comes to visit me.” Yuuji says.

Oh, Toji thought, and he leaned forward and laughed, “I’m not a dog.”

“You aren’t?” Yuuji scoots closer to Toji, “I take care of them pretty well. There’s some resemblance, you know!”

Toji’s lips twitched. First he’s a monkey, now he’s a mutt. But since Yuuji’s going on this tangent, he might as well play along. Taking a sip of the soda and then setting it down on the coffee table, his masculine form towers above Yuuji and he seductively reaches to settle his hand behind Yuuji’s ear.

“Arf.” He barks with a lowered tone, and the entirety of Yuuji’s body grows stiff, as if time stopped and he could only focus on Toji’s sickly sweet breath trailing across his earlobe. Toji thinks he’s done enough damage to squash this foolish comparison and retracts his body.

Perpetual silence permeated the air, but Yuuji’s head was on overload, replaying what the hell Toji just did like he was pressing forward and back on a movie just to see those detailed few seconds over and over.

“Toji…” Yuuji muttered, scrubbing his face with his bare hands. His face was red. It was hot, streaking, burning, violently brimming with an atrocious shade of scarlet, “Sorry, did I…?”

“Nope, just teasing you,” Toji relaxed and moved back to the side of his couch, crossing his legs. “since you were so keen on thinking I was a mutt.”

He’s been adorned with a collar and leash with previous people, though that was more for whatever strange aesthetic they had with men in collars. He’s never been the recipient of being treated like an actual dog, and he cringed once when he saw the accouterments that came with that prospect.

Wait.

“Are you into that?” Toji inquired with narrowed eyes, “Treating someone like an animal?”

“N-No!” Yuuji frantically waved his arms with open palms, “I’m not into that!”

He’s watched a lot of porn, sure, and he’s seen thumbnails of that, but he didn’t have any interest in participating or watching!

“It’s…you know,” Yuuji shouts some incomprehensible nonsense and then rolls to lay on his stomach, face hidden in the couch’s arm, “I like taking care of you, so…you, ugh…”

And Yuuji turns back around, trying to face Toji head on, “You’re not a mutt. A dog can let loose while he’s at home, right? They don’t have to worry. You seemed stressed about a lot of things, but I don’t know how to help.”

Yuuji scrambles to his feet, realizing how strange that must sound, “A-Anyways it was a joke, please forget about it!”

Well, that’s a first.

Toji didn’t think there was anything explicitly showing he was stressed over matters that concerned Yuuji.

“Hmmm,” Toji pondered, “So I’m stressed, huh.”

“No, I mean, maybe?” Yuuji’s voice grew smaller, “You looked sad.”

That’s a little too heavy for Toji, so he reverts back to the original subject.

“So, you want to treat me that way?” Toji asked, “‘Take care of me’?”

I told him to forget about it! Yuuji thought, but he firmly nodded, “We’ve been seeing each other for a while. I want you to stay home more, cook for you, and…” He trails off, “…not have blood on your face.”

Why do you care? Toji would’ve asked. The taste of soda suddenly felt like he was swallowing pure saccharin, so much of it where it had become a bitter aftertaste. He wiped his mouth and frowned.

Yuuji’s been the longest relationship he’s held since the death of that person. They kissed, had sex, talked sometimes, but lived their separate lives. He thought that was fine; they were his world “in that way.” The corners of these walls connected them just as it could easily be demolished if Toji felt like it.

Although…It’d be a waste to ruin something good.

He could play along for now and see where it leads. He doesn’t think Yuuji has any ill-will anyway.

It doesn’t sound that bad in the long run, as long as all it meant was he had the label of “dog” and nothing more.

Though, at the first scent of doubt, Toji won’t hesitate to high tail it out of there.

“I’m not walking around on all fours.” Toji directly stated, “No cute pet names, either.”

“I wouldn’t-!” Yuuji shudders when Toji pushes an index finger on his lips.

“See if you can tame me, Princess.”

“I’ll be gone until tomorrow evening.” Yuuji says while patting his school uniform, “I…uh, will you be staying here?”

It sucks, and Yuuji admits that with his dissatisfied look that he has to leave for a mission, but it’s not a request he can refute, lest he’s prepared to play twenty questions with Gojou.

He really wanted to spend the day with Toji. It feels like he was ditching him after confessing.

Toji leans into the wall while he watches Yuuji put on his…shoes. Those ridiculous clown shoes.

“Dunno, should I?” Toji teases, holding out Yuuji’s bus card pass, “You forgot this.”

“Oh, thank you.”

Yuuji tucks it into his pocket.

And then he slowly coils his arms around Toji’s larger frame.

“Just…be here when I’m back. Please?”

Toji froze. There’s hugs out of convenience to share body heat, there are ones to manipulate and endorse a falsehood of care(thus far, his “hugs” with Yuuji have been for those reasons alone). Those are the touches Toji knew and felt comfortable with.

“No promises.”

One hand goes to rub Yuuji’s back, and Yuuji puts on a brave smile. It’s not what he wants to hear, but that’s okay.

It’s better than Toji lying and saying he would.

“Ah! Note…” Yuuji quickly stumbles back into the apartment to scribble something on a notepad, “Here. The password to my laptop.”

Apparently, there was a “contract” he should look at.