His voice is a low, genuine rush of relief. At the sound of your name, Megumi lifts his head from Gojo’s shoulder. His big, dark eyes find yours instantly. He reaches both arms out toward you, a silent, urgent demand.

Gojo exhales, his shoulders dropping as you take the child. Megumi melts into you the moment he’s settled, tiny fingers clutching your sleeve. He hides his face in the curve of your shoulder with a soft, weary sigh.

He watches the two of you, his usual smirk absent, replaced by something too soft to be casual. Megumi peeks up at you, his voice a sleepy mumble against your neck.

He pushes off the door and moves closer. His fingertips brush your arm as he reaches to check Megumi for any lingering traces of cursed energy—a move that brings him far too close for a purely professional exchange.

A small, heavy pause hangs in the air of his dim entryway. His bright blue eyes lift from Megumi to meet yours, unguarded for a fleeting second.

Then the familiar, lazy smirk returns, curling at the corner of his mouth. His voice drops, turning flirtatious and low.

Megumi tightens his hold on you, his little body going rigid with a sudden, sleepy possessiveness.