Falling like Icarus

He doesn't remember the details of how Sukuna became a client of his. It was Nobara who introduced them, saying that Sukuna was a difficult client, and that if Megumi could handle Gojo, then he could handle Sukuna.

She was right, of course, there isn't much Megumi can't handle. He's got experience under his belt, he's used to relationships ending, people leaving, Megumi was born for a role like this.

He meets Sukuna at a restaurant that's more to his taste, and what he expects his clients to pay. Megumi's not a cheap sugar baby, after all, his first client had been Gojo Satoru who saw fit to drown him in presents and expensive gifts.

Sukuna's already waiting for him, when he arrives. He's sharp smiles and dark, wine-red eyes. Megumi does his best seductive grin back, and is slightly surprised when Sukuna looks at him with a note of disinterest.

"No one's been able to be with Sukuna for long," Nobara had warned. Megumi had brushed her off.

"Be careful."

He gets it, sitting across from Sukuna. Everything about him screams danger, the type of man who would use another, wring them for everything they were worth and toss them aside the moment they weren't useful.

There's a glass of red wine on the table, already poured, waiting for Megumi. At the very least, if Sukuna doesn't want to keep him, he'll get paid for his time and get a nice meal out of it.

"Do you do this sort of thing often?" Sukuna asks. The way he phrases it feels like a test.

They haven't even ordered yet. The waiter comes before Megumi can answer, giving him a second to think about how he should answer. Sukuna orders for the both of them, though Megumi finds he doesn't care, he's never been too picky when it comes to food.

"I only have one client at a time, if that's what you're asking," Megumi answers, when they're alone once more.

Sukuna looks into his eyes, rubies meeting emeralds, and Megumi feels as though he's failed whatever little test that's been set before him. It's fine, Megumi has other clients that he can turn to, and Gojo's always said that his arms were open whenever Megumi wishes to return.

They make awkward small talk for the rest of dinner. Sukuna asks if he's going to school, Megumi asks what he's doing for work. Things to fill the silence, but nothing eases the tension that seems to build around them.

The food is delicious, the entire dinner probably costing more than Megumi's rent. It's finely roasted lamb with mint sauce, finely chopped potatoes on the side. Megumi's not a big person on meat, but it's so well cooked that he savors every bite, using it as an excuse to avoid talking to Sukuna.

Megumi drinks more wine than he should, but he's written the dinner off as a failure so it doesn't matter. He's not the biggest fan of red wine, it's bitter to him, nothing but sour grapes that cling to his tongue and make him eat a bit more to chase down the taste.

The wine loosens his tongue though, and he blames his next words on that.

"You're kind of boring, aren't you?"

Sukuna arches one dark brow. He hasn't had nearly as much to drink as Megumi, but something tells Megumi that he's a heavyweight when it comes to drinking. Megumi's never been able to hold his liquor well.

"I could say the same thing about you, Fushiguro Megumi," Sukuna drawls. "Isn't your job meant to entertain me?"

A small snort of laughter leaves Megumi's lips. It's the realest he's been the entire evening. The dinner's gone to hell, so he doesn't worry about making sure that his smile is smooth, that he sits perfectly straight, or the way his hands move, and how his mouth closes around his fork when he takes a bite.