Archive of Our Own

Satoru has a secret.

Like most things in his life, it begins when he’s sixteen years old.

It's been a total of four days since Satoru ran away from home and took up temporary residence in Suguru's apartment. Four days is a new record for him; he's usually back at home after the second or third day, but Satoru is being especially stubborn this time. In fact, maybe he'll never go home. Who knows? It's not like anyone is crying and begging for him to come back, anyway. They know exactly where he is, because it's where he always goes. So, no one ever comes after him.

Not since the first time, anyway.

The first time that Satoru ran away from home was different, though. That was when he was thirteen and Suguru was eighteen. Back then, Suguru still lived at home with his parents and Satoru didn't want to be ratted out to his parents, so instead of camping at the Geto residence, he took the train and got off at a random station far away. Two hours later, Satoru was cold and hungry and when he realized that he'd forgotten to sneak off with one of his father's credit cards, he finally stopped ignoring the endless phone calls he'd been receiving and asked to be taken back home.

It's been a few years since the first time and much has changed. Satoru has gotten much better at running away and surviving on his own, even though everyone knows where he is and he's not actually alone. No, he never feels alone when he's with Suguru.

“You sure it's okay if I go?”

From where he's currently lying sideways on the bed, Satoru takes his eyes off the manga in his hands and glances towards the doorway. Suguru's voice comes out sounding funny because he's got a toothbrush shoved into his mouth, his hand moving back and forth to glide the tool across his teeth. His long, silky hair falls gracefully past his broad shoulders, neatly brushed and ready for him to tie back into the usual half-bun style that he likes to wear these days. He's already spent the past fifteen minutes rummaging around in the bathroom, so it's a mystery that he still hasn't finished getting ready.

“I could stay. It's really not that big of a deal.”

“Stop asking me that.” Satoru looks away from him and flips to the next page in his manga. He's just getting to the good part, so he'd appreciate not getting interrupted by silly questions. “You already had plans for tonight, so you should stick with ‘em.”

He can see in his peripheral vision when Suguru steps back into the bathroom. Running water from the sink is heard for a few seconds, and when Suguru reappears in the doorway for the second time, his hands are empty and there's no longer toothpaste residue at the edge of his mouth. When their eyes meet, Suguru smiles with shining teeth and Satoru feels a harsh thump against his ribcage.

“Fine. But don't say I didn't offer.”

Following that statement, Suguru enters the bedroom instead of returning to the bathroom again. Satoru's curious eyes follow his every movement as Suguru makes his way over to the closet and begins to analyze his wardrobe in search of something to wear. Everything that he owns is black, not a single thread of color peeking out from the neatly organized rows of clothing. So, it probably wouldn't make a difference what he wears. He always looks really good in whatever he puts on, anyway. It's been like this for as long as Satoru can remember.

Satoru's earliest memory in life is from when he was three or four years old. He doesn't recall the context of where they were or what they were doing, he can only remember a pair of comforting arms around his little waist and that same smile, the one that still greets him so many years later. The only difference is the missing teeth, because of course Suguru didn't have all of his permanent teeth back then. He was probably still losing the last of his baby teeth at the time. Either way, Satoru remembers being sat in his lap while Suguru smiled at him and held him close, their mothers’ voices not far from where they were playing together.

Suguru has been a part of his life since the very beginning. There's even an old photograph somewhere in Satoru's home of the first time that they met. He was only a baby and Suguru had just turned five years old, and again, he was gently propped up in Suguru's lap as the photo was being taken. Therefore, it's not far-fetched at all to say that being with Geto Suguru is all that Satoru has ever known. It's simply the way that things are and have always been, and of course, how it will always be. Because Satoru demands it.

“It's supposed to be really cold tonight,” Suguru mumbles, though mainly to himself as he lifts the knitted sleeve of a black sweater. He shakes his head, changing his mind, and drops the sleeve to drag his fingers across the other options next to it. He says, “But it gets hot as fuck inside of the venue, so I shouldn't wear anything too thick…”

These days, Suguru is really into things like going to local punk shows and listening to rock music in other languages, or hanging out at bars and drinking with his college friends while discussing said rock music. Satoru doesn't get it. He's not a big fan of being stuffed into crowded spaces and he hates being touched by strangers. He likes that Suguru is so into it, though. His precious bands are probably the one thing that Suguru can ramble about for hours and hours, and Satoru likes listening to him whenever he gets passionate like that.

Without looking up from his book, Satoru teases, “Just wear something black.”

Two seconds after that, his vision is suddenly obscured when he's hit in the face with a balled-up shirt. His immediate response is to glare at the bastard from across the room, but Satoru ends up staring dumbly when he sees that Suguru is shirtless now. The perfect ripples of toned abs stare back at him and when Satoru forces himself to look up instead, he's met with a teasing grin that has him squeezing his legs shut. Afterwards, when Suguru pokes his tongue out, the tiny metal ball resting along the center of it glistens beneath the bright lighting of the bedroom.

That damn tongue piercing.

Satoru hates it.

(No, he really doesn't.)

“You can keep that, by the way.” Suguru turns his attention to the closet again, and now Satoru is forced to stare at the sharp muscles along his back. He almost feels sad when Suguru finds a plain black shirt and quickly pulls it over his head, hiding his body again. “I'll probably buy a new one tonight, anyway.”

What's so unfair about Suguru—aside from the fact that he was born first—is that his body is built in such a way that it's impossible not to be a little bit jealous of him. Just a little. He's definitely not too muscular, but he isn't a twig, either. His figure just looks so natural, as if he doesn't need to do anything to maintain it. That isn't actually true, since he used to be really into martial arts and nowadays he just hits the gym every once in a while, but still. He's basically perfect and doesn't need to overwork himself to be this way.

For this reason, Satoru is immensely pleased by the fact that Suguru's growth is finally slowing down while his own has sped up tremendously. This past summer, Satoru went through his second growth spurt, shooting up like a bean sprout and now the two of them are the same height. They've never been on the same level before now. He still remembers the absolute shock on Suguru's face the first time that they hung out after not seeing each other for quite a while. Sometimes, Satoru replays the image over and over again in his head just to boost his own ego.

Suguru may have the “perfect” body, but by next summer, Satoru will finally be taller than him. At the amazingly fast rate that he's growing, it's basically inevitable.

Oh, it's going to feel so fucking good to pat Suguru on the head and call him tiny, the same way that he always did to Satoru back when they were kids.

Tiny ‘Toru.

That horrendous nickname will finally be buried into the ground, never to resurface. Satoru will make sure to celebrate that day when it arrives. He'll throw confetti, order a custom three-tier cake, hire a professional DJ and watch Suguru cry about it.

For now, he looks over the shirt that Suguru threw at his face and pretends to be disgusted by it. It's the same shirt that he was wearing earlier, a black graphic tee with the logo from one of those punk bands that Suguru listens to. He wears this one so often that the logo is a bit faded now, or maybe it's just meant to look like that. The concept of “fake vintage” also doesn't make much sense to Satoru, but maybe he's just into different things. 

That's fine. He likes that they can get along so well despite having opposite tastes and opinions on most things. It almost feels like proof that the two of them are meant to be together. Their lifelong bond has never faltered despite their many differences.

“At least wash it before you give it away, dipshit,” Satoru comments, but there's a smile on his face and a subtle blush across his cheeks as he sets the shirt to the side.

Of course he's going to keep it anyway.

He keeps everything that Suguru gives to him.

“Or you can wash it.” Still standing near the closet after pulling a leather jacket over his black shirt, Suguru removes the hairband from his wrist with his teeth. It only takes him seconds to gather the perfect amount of hair for his half-bun, his hands moving with ease. He adds, “If you know how. It shouldn't take more than a couple brain cells to use a washing machine, so you're in luck.”

Unable to think of a smooth comeback as quickly, Satoru responds with his middle finger instead. He elects to ignore it when Suguru proceeds to laugh at him. He's not actually offended in the slightest. The banter between them could go on forever if they allowed it to, which is precisely why they often have to hold themselves back. Their shared humor is merely a side effect of spending so much time in each other's presence.

In other words:

Suguru is used to Satoru being a brat.

Satoru is used to Suguru teasing him.

It's just how things are, how they've always been, and how they'll always be.

Because Satoru demands it.

Now that he's fully dressed, Suguru struts over to the bed—his bed that Satoru has been hogging for the past few days as if it were his own—and squats down so that they can be at eye level with each other. But instead of making eye contact, Satoru's gaze naturally shifts down to the edges of Suguru's mouth and the snake bite piercings that live there—the newest additions to the ever-growing collection on his face. Before he speaks, Satoru is already shutting the manga closed, prepared to listen to his every word.

“I'll probably get back really late, so don't bother waiting for me, okay?” His amber eyes flicker to the side for the briefest moment, and then they focus on Satoru again as he says, “But text me if you're planning to go home instead, and make sure to lock the door behind you if you leave.”

Satoru rolls his eyes after hearing those instructions. He's not five and he doesn't need to be told what to do, especially not by Suguru, of all people. Perhaps the only flaw in their friendship is that Suguru still treats him like a kid sometimes, no matter how old Satoru gets or how tall he grows. It's beginning to bother Satoru more than he cares to admit out loud.

“Okay, well, I'm not going home. Ever,” Satoru declares. 

Now it's Suguru's turn to roll his eyes.

“Mhmm, sure… if that's the case, then be prepared to get a job so that we can split the rent of this place,” Suguru teases. And Satoru knows that he's just teasing, but if given the opportunity, Satoru would be so willing to drop everything and leave everyone behind to move in with his best friend on the other side of Tokyo. “Anyway, you can turn on the space heater if it gets too cold and help yourself to anything in the fridge— except for my leftover Chinese. Got it?”

“Yeah, yeah. Got it. Can you leave now?”

Suguru reacts to his rudeness with another eye-roll, but he grins fondly when he reaches out with a hand and messes up Satoru's already-messy hair. Afterwards, he hops up again before Satoru can try to get revenge for the intense petting. As Suguru leaves the bedroom, he calls out from over his shoulder.

“Lock the door for me, ‘Toru.”

Satoru clicks his tongue, annoyed. Suguru obviously has the key to this place, so why can't he lock the door when he leaves? He's just being lazy. Now Satoru has to get up from his warm and comfy spot on Suguru's bed, and withstand the chilly apartment air against his skinny legs just to lock the door for him? That's outrageous and idiotic.

Regardless of his feelings on the matter, Satoru ends up doing it anyway. He waits a good five minutes after hearing the front door shut before getting up from the bed, just to feel defiant. He shouldn't allow himself to be too bratty, though. He's the one who's been hiding here for the past few days, simply because he hates being at home and can't stand dealing with his parents sometimes.

No one from the Gojo clan understands him, anyway. Why should Satoru have to deal with them and their ignorance if they don't know anything about him? He was raised by his servants and ignored by his parents who've always been too busy for him, and now Satoru has decided that he's too busy for them, too. But don't try to ask what he's “busy” doing, he hasn't decided yet. It'll come to him eventually, though.

It's not often that Satoru is left alone in Suguru's apartment. He supposes that he could've tagged along to the show tonight, but Satoru just isn't in the mood to be overstimulated by loud music and people bumping into him the whole time. So, he stays behind and insists that Suguru go out with his college buddies to have fun like they've already planned to. 

In the past, Satoru would've been greedy. No, just a few months ago Satoru would've been greedy and spoiled and demanded that Suguru hang out with him for the night instead. But things are different now and Satoru needs to mature quickly. He needs to grow up. He'll be seventeen years old pretty soon, and then…

And then nothing, because two months after that, Suguru will be twenty-two and they still won't be equals no matter how tall Satoru gets. Because each year that they grow older, the less that Suguru will want to hang out with some bratty teenage runaway who refuses to face his problems and demands to be entertained. 

People don't realize that Satoru is a lot more self-aware than they give him credit for. That's why he's determined to change his ways, he doesn't want to stay the same while Suguru keeps on changing and growing into his adulthood. Satoru needs to catch up and do the same, and then Suguru will never have any reason to leave him behind. They'll be able to stay best friends forever.

It makes perfect sense.

Satoru only stays up for another two hours before deciding that he'll go to sleep for the night. With Suguru gone and his manga finished, there's not much else for Satoru to do to keep himself entertained; he's not in the mood to focus on a movie and he’d rather not check his phone in case someone is asking when he'll return home. He highly doubts that anyone has reached out to him at all, but in any case, he chooses instead to take a shower. Hot showers never fail to make him incredibly sleepy afterwards.

However, after leaving the bathroom with only a towel hugging his narrow hips, Satoru realizes that he doesn't have any pajamas left to change into. He's already used up the couple pairs that he brought along with him and he actually doesn’t know how to use the washing machine, because why would he? There are people who do things like that for him back at home, so he's never really learned how to operate those appliances. He could figure it out, but for now there's already a perfect solution to his problems.

Satoru pulls on a pair of black sweatpants that he finds in one of the drawers in the dark wooden dresser against the wall. It's incredibly baggy on him, because Suguru almost exclusively wears baggy clothes, but it's also very comfortable and keeps his legs warm. That's what matters most.

Now all that Satoru needs is a shirt. He's about to start rummaging through Suguru’s things again, when his brain reminds him of the dark shirt still resting on the bed. The same shirt that Suguru threw at his face and told him to keep.

It's still there, out in plain sight.

No, no, Satoru can't wear that. He hasn't washed it yet and Suguru had been wearing that shirt all afternoon.

But…

He can at least try it on. The shirt is his now, after all. It belongs to him, because Suguru gave it to him as a gift and Satoru needs to make sure that it fits. Sometimes he puts on a shirt and fully expects it to fit, only to be proven wrong by his long torso. He shouldn't have a problem with this one, since Suguru wears oversized things and the shirt is probably a little stretched out from use. Doesn't hurt to try it on anyway.

Satoru lifts the band t-shirt from the bed as soon as he reaches it, and then he just stands there with the shirt in his hands, unmoving. Several long seconds pass by in which he fights an internal battle with his inner demons. 

He loses.

Satoru plants his face into the shirt, his hands pressing the cotton fabric deeper as he inhales until his lungs force him to breathe out again. It smells so strongly of Suguru—his cologne, his sweat, his shower gel, the same shower gel that Satoru had used only minutes ago. He stays over so often that he has his own, but he still likes to use Suguru's. He likes the smell of him—of it. The shower gel. It's strong but not overbearing, a mixture of musk and sandalwood and something else that is just so distinctly…

Suguru.

Yeah, that's what it smells like. It's a really good smell. A fresh smell. Satoru likes it a lot. There's nothing wrong with liking a certain smell, and it doesn't matter if that smell just so happens to belong to a best friend or anyone else.

It smells so good, and now Satoru is pulling the shirt over his head and sticking his arms through the holes and wow, it's so comfortable, too. It fits him quite nicely, oversized but not too much, the collar just barely sliding down his shoulder. No wonder Suguru likes wearing this one so much. It's cozy in a way that's difficult to describe. 

Yes, this is the one that will put him to sleep.

Satoru climbs into bed after donning the perfect shirt, but his plan to quickly fall asleep immediately backfires. The combination of using Suguru’s shower gel, wearing the shirt that smells like Suguru, and lying in the bed that smells even stronger of Suguru—it's too much at once. It's intoxicating. If Satoru closes his eyes, it feels like Suguru is still in the room with him. He just has to keep his eyes closed and he can see Suguru hovering right above him, their bodies practically flush together and…

A sharp inhale breaks the silence in the dark, quiet bedroom. Satoru had forgotten how to breathe for a moment there. He squeezes his eyes shut at the same time that he squeezes his legs together, needing to force himself to think of literally anything else but this. Anything but Suguru's scent, his warmth, his smile, his calloused hands in Satoru's hair, his perfect abs, the muscles along his back…

For the second time tonight, Satoru loses against his inner demons and this time, he succumbs to their every will.

His left hand presses the shirt firmly against his nose while the fingers of his right hand curl around his dick, the sweatpants abandoned around his ankles after he kicks them off. His every movement is spontaneous, rushed, and not at all gentle. It's like his overheated body has suddenly been possessed by some unknown force and all that he can do is bite down on the shirt's collar and curl his toes beneath the blanket.

Suguru's blanket.

Because he's doing this in Suguru's bed.

Satoru doesn't last longer than sixty seconds. He spills onto his belly while desperately thrusting into his warm palm, his shameless whimpers muffled by the shirt still clenched in his trembling mouth. And when he comes down from the high of his sudden orgasm and realizes what he's done, he still can't fall asleep. Or rather, he's not allowed to, because he makes a mess of the sheets and now he has to figure out how to use the washing machine before Suguru gets back.

It's not until all of the evidence has been taken care of that Satoru decides to go back home after all.

***

Satoru has a secret.

Well, it starts as a dirty little secret when he's sixteen years old and in denial about jerking off to thoughts of his older best friend, all while lying in that best friend’s bed. He refuses to think about the incident for a solid two weeks, and during those two weeks, he also refrains from visiting Suguru's apartment. He can't think about what he's done if he doesn't visit the scene of his crime. It's basic logic and it works.

No, not really.

Not when Satoru finds the same band t-shirt at the bottom of his duffel bag (the bag he always uses whenever he runs away from home) and instead of throwing it into the hamper for the maid to wash it, Satoru impulsively puts the shirt back on for the second time.

Somehow, it still smells a little bit like Suguru.

That little bit is still more than enough for Satoru to get off even faster the second time around.

Yes, it starts as a secret, but it quickly turns into somewhat of an obsession.

Instead of feeling ashamed and overrun with guilt, Satoru becomes obsessed with collecting Suguru's old t-shirts that he doesn't want anymore. It's not like they'll be missed, anyway. Sometimes it's an old shirt that Suguru finds at the bottom of his closet or shoved to the back of his dresser, shirts that he bought when he was a teenager who was just discovering all the bands that he still loves today. Some of the shirts don't fit anymore as a result of being purchased so long ago, right before Suguru decided that he preferred wearing baggy fashion.

So, he gives the shirts to Satoru. Satoru is tall but he's not as broad, so the smaller shirts still fit him in a way that isn't so awkward. Even these old shirts still smell like Suguru, though his scent isn't nearly as strong as it is on the newer ones. Doesn't matter, it's always enough to have Satoru writhing in bed when he gets back home.

It's always enough to kick-start his imagination, his various fantasies about Suguru taking over his mind.

Other times (though much more rare), Satoru will steal a shirt. Technically, he's just borrowing it. Just for a little while, anyway. And just one shirt at a time so that Suguru won't get too suspicious. He only resorts to “borrowing” shirts when the old raggedy ones begin to lose their scent completely. It's not like he can ask Suguru to wear one of the old shirts for a day and go to the gym in it or something. That would be weird! So, Satoru has to borrow one of the newer shirts that Suguru wears occasionally. It's easy enough. He spends so much time in Suguru's apartment, it only takes a quick second to snag a shirt from his dirty laundry.

So, Satoru never gets caught.

After several months of doing this and noticing that he can't ever get off to anything else, Satoru comes to the conclusion that he must be some flavor of gay.

A couple months after that, Satoru comes to the conclusion that he's probably (definitely) a little bit (deeply) in love with Geto Suguru.

***

Satoru is eighteen years old when he decides that he doesn't want to keep secrets anymore.

Now, that doesn't mean that he's going to confess to the possibly hundreds of orgasms that he's had while thinking about his best friend for over a year, or about the t-shirt scandal. No, the humiliation he would get from confessing to those sins would immediately obliterate his soul and remove him from existence. So, Satoru will never admit to doing any of that for as long as he lives.

Never.

What he doesn't want to keep a secret anymore has to do with the other stuff, such as the way that his heart always runs marathons in his chest whenever Suguru smiles at him, or the millions of butterflies in his belly that flutter wildly whenever they touch. All of those horribly overwhelming emotions that should only exist in the silly romantic comedies that Satoru loves to watch, but somehow he's experiencing them in real life and all of it can be blamed on one person.

In other words, this is the year that he's going to make Geto Suguru fall in love with him. 

Satoru can't contain himself anymore. It's becoming impossible to keep it all locked away in his heart when all that he wants to do is word vomit from the moment that Suguru enters the room. At least nothing can stop him now. He's officially an adult, a grown man and he's about to graduate high school in just a couple months, so there's really no reason or excuse for Suguru to reject him. They're finally going to be equals for the first time ever.

And what better day to confess than on Satoru's 18th birthday?

There's no better time than the present, and starting tomorrow, they're going to be official boyfriends.

Satoru decides to keep his special day calm, quiet, and very intimate. That means not having a huge birthday party or getting overly excited about presents, because he's a man now. An adult man. Adult men don't get overly excited about trivial things, even though Satoru wakes up that morning and squeals into his pillow, because his special day is finally here and he gets to spend the evening with his special person.

That's why it doesn't matter that he still has to go to school and spend his special day being bored in class, while his teachers try to stress everyone out about upcoming university entrance exams. Satoru cares about none of it, listens to none of it, and when class is finally finished for the day, he can't contain the excited squeal that escapes him for the second time. To hell with being a mature adult man right now, he wants to be excited for this.

Because Satoru has a date.

His very first date ever.

But Suguru is already half an hour late.

“What the fuck?” Satoru curses at no one in particular, and then his shoe connects with a random rock that he punts into the street in anger.

He's been waiting outside of the school for half an hour now, which doesn't make any sense. Just the other day, Suguru had agreed to pick him up right outside of the school gates so that they could hang out together. Because it's Satoru's birthday and this is all that he wants. This is what they've agreed on, what he was promised.

But Suguru hasn't texted him back yet and Satoru is starting to get pissed off. After waiting for another two minutes, he decides that he'll just walk home and never speak to Geto Suguru ever again. True love doesn't exist and romance is a scam.

Satoru hates him.

He hates him, he hates him, he hates him.

Satoru's phone rings in his pocket as he thinks of ways to bury Suguru alive. Speak of the devil, he's finally reaching out after all this time but he's too late. The damage has already been done. 

Of course, Satoru answers the call, anyway.

“Did you get in an accident?”

It's silent on the other end. Suguru obviously didn't expect to be asked such an odd question instead of being greeted with a simple “hello”, so it takes him a second to recover.

“What? No.”

“Did you catch on fire?” Satoru asks next.

“No? What are you—”

“And your family is safe?”

“…Yes?”

Satoru promptly ends the call. If Suguru's reason for being tardy isn't one of the reasons listed above, then he has no excuse and Satoru won't forgive him. He ignores the vibrations of his phone when Suguru immediately calls him back. Twice. It takes every bit of willpower in Satoru's body not to give in and answer, but then Suguru starts texting him, too, and now he's just being annoying.

When someone is being annoying, it's perfectly okay to break the silent treatment and tell them to knock it off.

satoru.
stop ignoring me
answer the damn phone

no
im blocking you

no you're not

i did

?????
you're literally texting me right now

if you're typing i can't see it
y'know, since you're blocked

oh my god
where are you? 

walking home

from the school?
stay where you are
I'll pick you up

nah im good
I'll keep walking

no
stay where you are.

don't tell me what to do

Suguru stops responding to him.

Ugh. Just who the hell does this guy think that he is? How can he possibly think it's fine to give Satoru orders after flaking on him like this? It's not like he was in a tragic accident and he's confirmed that his family isn't being held for ransom, so why does he think it's okay to show up whenever he wants to? He made Satoru worry about him for no reason at all! They had a plan and Suguru ruined the plan. Satoru won't forgive him that easily. 

Nope.

And if Satoru is walking much slower than he was a couple minutes ago, it's only because there's no rush in getting home so quickly. It's not like anyone is waiting to celebrate his birthday with him. He's already told the servants that he doesn't want anything planned for him at home because he's celebrating elsewhere, and his parents are out of the country again. They already called him briefly to wish him a happy birthday that morning, because of timezones and such. Even if they were at home, Satoru wouldn't want anything from them.

The one thing that he wanted out of today has already proven to be a disappointment.

Hardly much time passes after their text messages when Satoru hears it, the familiar roar of a loud bike engine that increases in volume as it draws closer to him. Satoru tries to resist turning his head towards the street. He really does try, but he finds himself unable to resist seeing one of his favorite sights of all: Suguru in a helmet and straddling his jet-black motorbike.

Fuck. Just seeing him like this really messes with Satoru's head.

And his dick.

Satoru turns his head back around and takes another step forward, pretending that he hasn't seen Suguru at all. It's a failed attempt since he had paused for several seconds just to check Suguru out, but Satoru is stubborn above all else.

“Hey,” Suguru calls out to him, and Satoru freezes right there on the sidewalk. Meanwhile, Suguru removes the black helmet covering his head and shakes his long hair loose, and why the fuck does he have to do everything so majestically? It's just not fair. He asks, “Didn't I tell you to stay put?”

Without looking at him again, Satoru responds sassily, “Didn't I block you?”

He forces himself to start walking again, and this time he successfully takes two steps before Suguru makes him pause for the second time.

“Don't walk away from me when I'm talking to you. That's rude, y'know.” Hearing that come from Suguru's lips, Satoru can't help but scoff. What does he know about being rude? He's the one who's late. “Why are you so pissed at me, anyway? I told you I'd pick you up today.”

“At three,” Satoru emphasizes. Now, he's deciding to face the enemy head-on, even as his angry glare comes off more as a childish pout. He folds his arms over his chest and reiterates, “I've been waiting for you since three! We were supposed to meet then, but you decided not to show up and you still haven't explained yourself. So, of course I'm pissed off.”

“Three?” Suguru repeats back to him, blinking and looking confused. His brows knit together and Satoru tries so hard not to get distracted by the double piercings that align the left brow. “That's… not what we agreed on.”

“Yes, it was.”

“No, because I always work until three-thirty on Fridays, remember? I said that if I could leave early then I'd let you know, but if you didn't hear from me, then just assume that I couldn't leave early.”

Now the confusion is passed on to Satoru, who blinks back at him and tries to recall such vital information from any of their past conversations. In truth, it's not ringing any bells.

“When did you say that?”

“Like, two or three days ago. We talked about it on the phone.”

“Hmm…” Satoru rests a hand against his chin and tries to recall anything that may have happened two or three days ago. He comes up entirely empty-handed, which isn't his fault. He says as much. “Nope, can't say I recall that. You should've reminded me yesterday, at least.”

“Wow,” Suguru deadpans. “You can't ever admit when you're wrong, huh? Not even after all these years?”

Satoru dismisses those concerns with a wave of his hand.

“I wasn't wrong, there was simply a miscommunication. Anyway, you could've at least tried to respond to the first texts that I sent to you. I seriously thought you had flaked on me…”

Despite the seriousness of the topic and the obvious disappointment in Satoru's tone, Suguru still has the nerve to laugh at him. He laughs with his head tossed back and his eyes turning into crescent moons and if not for the fact that he could easily fight back (and possibly win), Satoru would push him off the motorbike for being such a dickhead.

“You're such a big baby,” Suguru teases him without remorse. “Big Baby ‘Toru. I think that should be your new nickname. What do you think?”

Satoru grits his teeth together and responds with his middle finger extended into the space between them. He tells himself that he's definitely still mad and that he has every right to be, only because their simple “miscommunication” had him feeling more betrayed than he's ever felt before. Admittedly, he really jumped to the worst conclusion and reacted dramatically, which isn't very adult man of him. Next time, he'll try to keep a level head.

For now, Satoru turns away as if to start walking again.

“Leave me alone.”

“Wait, ‘Toru.”

Satoru waits. It's more of a subconscious act, really. He doesn't mean to immediately obey the command, but it's so hard to think straight whenever Suguru calls him by that damn nickname. Each time that his shortened name rolls off that tongue, it leaves Satoru filled with endless warmth and nostalgia. It doesn't help that Suguru always says it so softly, even softer than his voice naturally is already. 

Back when they were kids, Suguru almost exclusively called him by that nickname. Every time that he heard it, Satoru would react with a toothy grin and eagerly wait for the words that came after it, always so ready to prove that he could do whatever Suguru asked him to do. Satoru also used to believe that Suguru's word was fact. It was the end-all and be-all of any situation. As long as Suguru said that something was true, then it had to be true.

He was so embarrassingly naive back then.

Maybe he still is even now. Just a little bit.

When Satoru turns back again to face the stubborn menace across from him, he's met with a much friendlier expression this time around. No more teasing, just pure fondness—the type of unconditional fondness that you can only obtain for the person that you grew up with.

“Come over here,” Suguru commands next.

Again, Satoru's legs obey without his permission and he approaches the bike hardly a second later. 

“Hold out your hand.”

Satoru does exactly that. He watches with wide, curious eyes as Suguru lifts his own hand and places something small into Satoru's open palm. It ends up being a piece of candy wrapped in plastic, and Satoru recognizes it immediately because it happens to be his favorite candy that he's loved since he was a child. He can already taste the sweet flavor of cherries at the tip of his tongue.

“Happy birthday,” Suguru tells him afterwards.

Normally, Satoru would be greatly affected by that incredibly soft and endearing tone of voice, but right now he kind of wants to laugh. He just can't help it. Why the hell is Suguru carrying around pieces of candy in his pocket like some old grandpa? Only old people do that. Suguru isn't an old person, but sometimes he acts like one and it's so damn funny. Satoru never wants him to stop being the way that he is.

Satoru expresses his gratitude with a quiet, “Thanks.”

He unwraps the piece of candy and pops it into his mouth right afterwards, and the sweet flavor on his tongue  instantly soothes any ounce of grumpiness that may have been leftover from before. Now, Satoru is completely satisfied. He's already grinning like a fool before he can stop himself. It's really not his fault that he's so easy to pacify; he was born with a sweet tooth and fruit flavored candies are just too good.

Now that Satoru is much happier, Suguru presses an extra helmet against the younger boy's chest.

“Get on.”

Once again, Satoru quickly follows orders. He places the white-shelled helmet on his head and buckles the strap beneath his chin before straddling the back of the motorbike, his long leg stretching over it with ease. It's been quite a while since the last time that he rode on the back of Suguru's bike, and Satoru still wonders what possessed him to buy such a thing. 

Suguru is still very much in his punk phase. He's gotten a few more piercings along both ears and a bridge piercing across his nose, and most recently, he received his first ever tattoo along the inside of his wrists. The kanji now permanently inked into his skin is apparently the lyrics to some random song that he loves, and Satoru still doesn't get it, but he likes it all the same. Sometimes he catches himself staring at the inked skin way more than he should be, but Suguru never seems to notice a thing.

Sometimes Satoru wonders if he ever will.

“Hold on to me properly, or else you'll fall off and your parents will sue me,” Suguru warns, and he has to raise his voice a little now that he's wearing the helmet again.

Though Satoru giggles at the mental image of his parents and Suguru battling over him in court, he takes the advice and links his lanky arms around Suguru's waist. He had nearly forgotten all about the best part of riding on the back of the motorbike: being able to cling to Suguru the whole time. Despite the rough start to their special evening together, Satoru now feels incredibly pleased with himself.

He rests his cheek on Suguru's shoulder, shuts his eyes, and enjoys the ride.

***

Suguru takes him to the popular French restaurant that Satoru has been wanting to go to, ever since its grand-opening this past summer. Despite offering plenty of savory options, the restaurant has become well-known for its dessert menu—which is the only thing that Satoru cares about. But it's not easy to get into a place like this, especially one that's trendy amongst young people and tourists alike. Apparently, reservations are already booked out for several months now and they don't even have a waitlist.

“Who did you kill to get us into this place?” Satoru asks, peeking over his menu at the man sitting across from him. He's been wanting to ask the question ever since the server showed them to their table.

Suguru lifts his brows at the question as he sips from a glass of ice water, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down along his throat when he swallows the liquid. Satoru's eyes follow the movement like he's enchanted by it. He only snaps out of it when Suguru sets the glass down onto the table, chuckling at the silly question.

“No one? I made a reservation, just like everyone else.”

“Since when?”

“Mm, maybe three months ago? Somewhere around then, after you had mentioned wanting to come here.”

Satoru gasps in shock, his fingers tightening around the menu still clutched in his hands. If that's true, then shouldn't it mean that Suguru planned this surprise for him several months ago? Even before Satoru declared that he wanted them to hang out for his birthday? He never specified what he wanted, either. He only said that he wanted it to be just the two of them, and that Suguru had to spoil him. That's all.

Learning the truth leaves Satoru with that overwhelming feeling of admiration in his heart. Suguru is the only one who ever makes him feel this way, because Suguru is the only one who makes him feel so incredibly special. 

Because he wants to, not because he has to.

Most people treat Satoru a certain way because they have to. They can't afford to get on his family's bad side. But even though Suguru's dad also works for the Gojo family's business, there's never been an uncomfortable dynamic between the two of them. Suguru has never held back from calling him a brat or poking fun at him, so Satoru has always been grateful for what they have together.

“So, what are you getting?”

Satoru tries to hide his blush behind the menu, bringing it closer to his face and staring hard at the black text on each page. He's so unbelievably happy right now. He might explode. He has to keep himself from exploding and causing a scene, because that would be totally embarrassing and Satoru can't embarrass himself in front of his crush. 

Anything but that.

He clears his throat before answering Suguru's inquiry with a confident, “Everything.”

Suguru snorts. “Everything?”

“Yes.” Feeling more composed, Satoru sets the menu down on the table as a smug grin overtakes his features. “I want everything on the dessert menu, ‘cause who knows when I'll get to try it again? I have to think about the future.”

“I guess that makes sense.” Suguru watches him from across the table with an amused glint in his eyes, his chin resting on the palm of his hand. Satoru just might melt beneath that gaze. “Everything is still a lot, though.”

“So?” Satoru shrugs, attempting to play it cool. “It's my birthday, y'know. I can basically have whatever I want, since I'm the birthday boy. That's how this works.”

This time, Suguru laughs while nodding his head. “Okay, okay. Can't argue with that logic. Pick whatever you want, princess.”

Princess.

Oh, no.

He's just teasing, he's just teasing, he's just teasing.

Satoru repeats the mantra in his head to keep himself sane, otherwise he won't survive to see the end of this night.

***

After the best (read: only) dinner date that Satoru has ever been on, Suguru takes him shopping around all the stores in the middle of the city.

The only rule is that whatever Satoru picks out, everything has to be small enough to fit into bags that he'll be able to comfortably hold while sitting on the back of the motorbike. As long as he can slide the bag's handles over his arms, then he can have it.

That seems fair and Satoru doesn't want to risk losing any of the gifts bought by his special person, so he keeps that in mind while they hop from store to store. He picks out lots of sugary snacks, a video game, a couple of stylish shirts, a beanie, and a board game that he wants them to play together sometime. All the while, Suguru follows behind and carries his bags for him, and it really does feel like they're a couple. He doesn't even complain when Satoru demands that they stop by his favorite boba shop to get his beloved strawberry matcha drink, despite all the sweets that they recently consumed at the restaurant.

Tonight is meant to be all about Satoru, so Suguru lets him do as he pleases and continues spoiling him all throughout their time together.

By the end of their date (because it has to end at some point, no matter how much Satoru wishes that it never would), Satoru has probably never been happier. The wind is chilly against his pink-tinged cheeks, but Suguru's broad back is warm against his chest and any time that they come to a stoplight, Suguru drums his fingers against the back of Satoru's hand still clinging to his waist. It's such a random display of affection and Satoru loves it all the same.

Part of him wishes that they'd never make it home. He doesn't want to go home. He wants to go back to Suguru's apartment instead, and maybe watch a cheesy romance movie while cuddling on the couch. Then, just like in the movie, they'll kiss for the first time and one thing will lead to another, and Satoru won't be a virgin anymore and Suguru will ask him to move in. 

A few months after that, they'll adopt a cat or two, maybe even three, and Satoru will come home to feed the cats after a long day of attending his classes at the same university that Suguru currently attends. Satoru will make dinner for the two of them and he'll greet Suguru at the front door with plenty of kisses, then Suguru will listen to him talk about his day and Satoru will do the same. At the end of the night, they'll take a bath together and have a ton of sex and all will be right with the world.

They arrive outside of the grand entrance of the Gojo estate by the time that Satoru reaches the conclusion of his deluded fantasies. He's genuinely disappointed when he opens his eyes and takes in the large gates of the main entrance, and then he sighs, wishing that his fantasy world was the real one instead of this. Maybe someday all of it will come true. It has to.

It's completely silent from the moment that Suguru turns off the bike's engine. Satoru has to force himself to dismount the vehicle. He reminds himself that there's no reason to feel down, he had so much fun tonight and was able to get almost everything that he wanted. Fantasies aside, he's so lucky to have Suguru as a best friend. He's been taking care of Satoru ever since he was a baby, so why wouldn't he put in the effort to make his most important birthday extra special for him?

“Need help carrying all of that inside?” Suguru asks, eyeing the various shopping bags still clinging to Satoru's arms.

“Nah, I got it.” Ignoring the subtle ache in his arms, Satoru grins instead and teases, “Just because I'm not as jacked as you doesn't mean that I'm weak.”

Suguru rolls his eyes even as his mouth curves into a smirk. “Not calling you weak. Just saying that princesses shouldn't cut off their circulation with heavy objects, if they can avoid it.”

Oh, that word again. 

When Satoru visibly shivers where he stands, he blames it on the cool night air and the fact that he's still only wearing his school uniform.

“Stop calling me that,” he grumbles, avoiding eye contact like the plague. He tacks on a lame, “Jerk.”

It's inevitable that Suguru laughs at his weak comeback, just like it's inevitable that Satoru's cold cheeks grow even darker and he wishes that he could hide underneath his bed right now. Sometimes having a crush is nothing but a pain in the ass. 

Especially when your crush is a condescending jackass disguised as an alternative prince. 

“You got everything that you wanted, didn't you?” Suguru asks next, his tone still full of mischief. “That makes you a princess.”

How annoying. Satoru wants to curse him out, but that wouldn't be very nice or adult man of him after all the money that Suguru spent on him tonight. Yet, despite that, Satoru didn't actually receive everything that he wanted. Against his better judgment, he accidentally voices the thought out loud.

“Almost everything,” he mumbles before he can help it.

“Hm?” Suguru tilts his head to the side, because of course he heard that and now he's curious. Damn. “Almost? What did we miss out on?”

Ugh. He can't deal with Suguru prying into his thoughts now, too. That's just too much.

Satoru shakes his head and answers, “It's nothing.”

It doesn't surprise him at all that Suguru doesn't drop the subject, not even for a second, because he's twice as stubborn as Satoru is and he also knows exactly when Satoru is lying to him. Why wouldn't he? He's probably the one who taught Satoru how to lie in the first place.

He insists, “Tell me. I wanna know.”

“Or you can just forget about it,” Satoru suggests in vain.

“Nah, I don't think I will.”

“Why not?”

“Because I promised to give you everything that you wanted, right? Within reason. So, what did I miss?”

Oh. He really is determined.

The thing about Suguru is that he's always been such an annoying perfectionist. If he does something, then it has to be perfect. If he starts something, then he has to finish it without even a single flaw. If he tells Satoru that he'll give him everything that he wants on his 18th birthday, then that's exactly what he'll do. Partial completion of his goals is not an option.

Failure is not an option.

However, despite knowing the real reason behind Suguru's determination, Satoru still feels weak in the knees to hear him say those words. Like, is it really that important? No, of course not; but it's important to Suguru and that's why he's not going to drop the subject so easily.

But how can Satoru admit that what he wants most of all is Suguru?

Right, because he can't admit that, even though he woke up this morning telling himself otherwise. He's tired of keeping secrets and he wants Suguru to know exactly how he feels about him, how he's always felt about him. Because Satoru has loved Suguru from the moment that he came into this world and even though his love has changed over time, it's always been there.

Always.

But now that they've actually reached this point, Satoru is scared. He's way too scared to speak his mind. He doesn't know how he'll handle it if Suguru shuts him down, or worse—if he's disgusted.

“Well?”

Suguru is still waiting for an answer. Satoru wonders if it would be useless to try lying again. He looks Suguru up and down and, well, he could ask for the shirt that he's wearing beneath his jacket. He had to have worn it all day at work and he wore it during their date, too; so it's sure to smell quite strongly of that musky scent that Satoru loves so much. Maybe, just maybe, Suguru wouldn't mind leaving it with Satoru as a parting gift…

No. That's insane. 

It's also illegal to roam around in public without a shirt on, not to mention how cold it is right now. Satoru can't be so cruel that he'd make Suguru drive home with nothing covering his bare, sexy chest. That's just mean.

Well, fuck it.

He's all out of options, then.

“You wouldn't do it if I asked,” Satoru replies to him at last, his voice shaking slightly as he forces the words between his cold lips.

“Do what?” Suguru asks. And then, “Try me.”

Hm. If he's going to say it like that, all cocky and demanding, then what choice does Satoru have other than to be completely honest?

“A kiss.”

Hearing that answer, Suguru blinks at him, stunned.

“Huh? A kiss…?”

“That's what I said. Need your hearing checked?”

There. He finally said it. Now Suguru can take that answer and do whatever he wants with it, which is most likely nothing, because…

“You want a kiss?” Suguru repeats dumbly. He's still staring at Satoru like he's just spilled one of life's greatest secrets, the secret to end all other secrets. To clarify, he asks, “From me?”

How utterly clueless and brain dead can this guy be? The truth is staring him right in the face and he still has no idea what to think or how to react. Maybe Satoru gives him way too much credit. Suguru is smarter than anyone else that Satoru knows, but he's also really dumb, too.

“Nah, it's just a joke,” Satoru tells him, giving up. “I'm going inside now. Bye.”

Satoru clenches the handles of the many bags still held in his hands and starts to turn around, eager to escape from this torturous conversation. Unfortunately, he's stopped in his tracks by just a single word.

“‘Toru.”

Damn him.

“Didn't I say not to walk off when I'm talking to you?”

When Satoru turns to face him again, mouth hanging open with a sassy remark prepared to leave his lips, the words on his tongue never make it out alive. It's mainly because Suguru has abandoned the bike and now stands directly in front of Satoru. His hands are shoved into his back pockets and his brows have risen high on his forehead, as if daring Satoru to talk back to him. Normally, Satoru would do exactly that without hesitation, but…

There's nothing normal about this situation.

 “So. You want a kiss, then?” Suguru asks again. “No joke?”

Unable to make his voice work and hardly able to think straight right now, Satoru responds with a shaky nod.

Of course, Suguru won't make it easy for him.

“Speak up. It's just a question.”

Satoru clicks his tongue, his eyes focusing anywhere else now so that he won't have to look at that outrageously handsome face.

“I already said that's what I wanted… but you won't do it because—”

“Who says that I won't?”

“Huh?”

That stupid huh is the last thing that leaves Satoru's lips right before another pair is suddenly being pressed against them. Because Suguru actually does kiss him. It's a firm press of lips against lips and it doesn't last long enough for Satoru to even process what's happening. He doesn't even close his eyes. His very first kiss happens all of a sudden, and then it's over. Just like that.

Suguru pulls away from him and when those shining amber eyes stare back into a shocked pair of blue, Satoru wonders if he's just dreaming. He doesn't think that he is, but one can never be too sure. His lips tingling from the brief contact is probably a sign that it really did happen.

“How's that?” Suguru asks, voice a tad scratchy, and so he pauses to clear his throat. He continues, “That was your first kiss, right?”

Dumbstruck, Satoru simply nods. Then, his mouth starts voicing aloud some of the scattered thoughts in his head. “I want a real kiss, though. That was too quick. I didn't get a chance to kiss you back and my eyes were open, too.”

While initially shocked to hear him voice those complaints, the shocked expression on Suguru's face quickly dissolves into a smile. “A real kiss, huh? Was that not good enough for you, princess?”

Despite everything, Satoru groans. “I said stop calling—”

It's the second time that he's interrupted by Suguru's mouth against his own, and now Satoru is starting to get a little pissed off. How dare Suguru think it's acceptable to shut him up with a kiss? Maybe it is acceptable, but that's beside the point. He can't reprimand Satoru for having poor manners and then turn around and do the same. It's just not fair.

However, Satoru forgets all about his annoyance once Suguru begins moving his lips, kissing Satoru slowly, gently, and it's already so much better than the first kiss had been. Suguru's mouth is warm and his lips are soft and suddenly there's a hot, wet tongue poking against Satoru’s mouth, prying it open.

The tight grip of his fists loosen all the way and suddenly the shopping bags hit the ground, and Satoru doesn't even notice because he's now overwhelmed by Suguru's hot tongue in his mouth, and oh—the piercing. He can feel the hardness of the piercing across his tongue and against the roof of his eager mouth. It's ticklish. Suguru's tongue piercing is tickling him and Satoru doesn't know how he's going to survive this kiss when he's already suffocating.

He whimpers. Satoru actually whimpers before he can contain the embarrassing sound. It doesn't seem like Suguru cares, though. Or maybe he doesn't even notice. He's got both hands on either side of Satoru's face, cupping his jawline and holding him in place. Meanwhile, Satoru is clinging to the front of Suguru's shirt, the cotton fabric clenched between his trembling fists as he tries to hold on, needing something to keep him grounded.

Just when he thinks his lungs will fail him, Suguru finally pulls away. A string of shining saliva still connects their wet lips as Satoru gasps for air, his head dizzy from the lack of oxygen and his entire body red-hot. He can't believe that they just kissed.

Again.

And this time it was a real kiss, with all the intensity and the desire that Satoru has only fantasized about until now. If every kiss that they share from now on will feel like that, then Satoru seriously won't ever be able to fall for anyone else.

“Better?” Suguru murmurs, the first word that either of them have spoken since… that.

This time, Satoru doesn't utter a single complaint.

***

The tall wooden door shuts heavily behind Satoru as he enters his home.

He doesn't stop moving. Not even for a second.

Satoru kicks off his shoes and makes a beeline for his bedroom on the opposite end of the mansion, only nodding his head in greeting to the few servants around who welcome him home. His feet pick up speed while his heart hammers away in his chest, threatening to jump out through his ribcage at any second. As soon as he enters his bedroom, he slams the door behind himself and drops all of the shopping bags to the floor by his feet.

He needs a shirt.

He needs one now.

Satoru yanks open the sliding door to his closet and reaches for the rectangular storage chest that he keeps on the top shelf. It's gotten slightly heavy throughout the past year or so as his collection has grown, so he's careful when placing the chest onto the floor. He's not so gentle when he opens it, though. He flips the lid open without a care in the world, and then he dips his hands into the treasure trove of old band t-shirts that used to belong to his best friend.

His best friend that he kissed.

After eighteen years, Satoru finally gave his very first kiss to Suguru, the boy that he grew up with. Like, that actually happened. It's been several minutes since it happened and Satoru needs to celebrate the special occasion. He has to celebrate kissing Suguru and being hopelessly in love with him, as well as the fact that his fantasies are coming to life right before his eyes. Soon enough, they won't be fantasies at all.

All of it will be his reality.

Satoru picks a shirt at random from the very top of the pile. He's not going to be picky tonight. All of them carry a faint scent to them—Suguru's scent. Satoru keeps the shirts hidden away in his airtight storage chest so that the scent will always remain, even if it's not as pungent as when he first obtained them. That faint scent is still enough to satisfy him, though.

It's always enough.

Now that he has the main attraction for the night, Satoru shuts the lid of his precious chest of goodies and stands up again. He practically rips his school uniform from his body in his haste to get naked. He usually likes to bathe before doing this, prefers to rinse away any possible odors that have clung to his skin from a long day of existing. When he's clean, it allows him to smell only the faint scent of whichever shirt that he chose for the night. However, Satoru doesn't have the patience for that right now. He doesn't want to wait any longer.

He just wants to come.

Satoru gets into position at the center of his bed and rests his head against the fluffy pillows. He has already retrieved the small bottle of lubricant from his nightstand, so he doesn't waste another second. He pops open the cap and squirts a hefty amount onto his fingers, then rubs the digits together for a few seconds so that it won't be too cold against his hole. It's still a bit cold anyway when he reaches between his legs and it always shocks him, but he recovers instantly and traces the digit around his rim before forcing it into himself.

This is something that Satoru has started doing over the past couple of months. Jerking off with just his dick has been fun and all, but lately he feels like he needs something more. That's when Satoru decides to explore a little, and he quickly discovers that fingering himself is also lots of fun in its own way. Plus, he figures that he should get used to the sensation of having something inside of him, if he hopes to be fucked by Suguru one day. Practicing with his fingers will make things so much easier when that day finally arrives.

Satoru exhales a shaky sigh as the first finger passes through his tight, warm muscles. His ass clenches around the familiar digit while Satoru shoves the shirt against his nose, just like always. He's been doing this same routine for so long now, he stopped questioning whether or not using his crush's scent to get off makes him a creep. Maybe he is a creep, and maybe that's okay. He's not hurting anyone by masturbating while wearing and sniffing an old t-shirt.

Growing impatient, Satoru adds a second finger in with the first one. Ah, that's much better already. He fucks himself at a steady pace, his cock twitching and aching in between his legs. Satoru doesn't touch himself, though. Not yet. If he jerks himself off at the same time, he'll come too soon and he doesn't want that. Not this time.

Instead of losing control, Satoru shuts his eyes and imagines long, silky hair and a pair of soft lips against his own. He recalls what it had felt like to be kissed for the first time. If he concentrates hard enough, he can still feel a hot tongue brushing the roof of his mouth and that piercing. Oh, God, the piercing. Satoru wonders what that tiny ball would feel like elsewhere, such as against the head of his cock.

“Mm, fuck,” Satoru curses, and he doesn't want to be too loud. Sometimes it's hard to tell if one of the servants or someone from his family is roaming the halls. For this reason, he always tries to keep his noises to a minimum.

It would be a totally different story if he were in Suguru's apartment. That's where Satoru's fantasies always lead him to, anyway. He likes picturing himself on his knees while Suguru slams into his ass from behind, fucking him so hard that Satoru can barely keep himself propped up. He knows that Suguru's cock would feel so much better than his fingers. Satoru whimpers just imagining it, while his fingers desperately fuck his hole in a failed attempt to simulate that same pleasure.

God. He wants it so bad. He needs Suguru's cock fucking his tight hole until all that he can see is stars.

Satoru bites down on the old shirt and inhales that faint scent again, feeling it flow through his nostrils and up into his brain, making him drunk off it. If he were having sex with Suguru, this irresistible scent would be at least a hundred times stronger. Satoru would be drowning in it. He imagines himself on his back this time, Suguru hovering above him and slamming his hips down, each powerful thrust knocking the wind out of Satoru's lungs. 

In this position, Suguru's hair would fall down all around Satoru's face and he wouldn't be able to see anything else. Just Suguru. Only Suguru. Satoru would be able to cling to him and press his face into Suguru's neck, inhaling his sweat and licking it from his overheated skin. Oh, but what if Suguru lets him wear one of his gym shirts while fucking Satoru at the same time? What then?

Wow, wow, wow.

Satoru has never considered that thought before. He needs it to happen now. He's going to keep imagining it until it finally happens. He's still thinking about it as his fingers stretch his hole in real life and Suguru fucks him faster within the fantasy, and in both cases, Satoru's back arches up from the mattress. He reaches down with his other hand to roughly pump his neglected cock a couple of times and then he's coming right afterwards.

He's coming, he's coming, he's coming.

Satoru comes with a choked cry while his body shakes from head to toe. He goes totally limp as soon as the last wave of his orgasm flows through him, and then he spends a long time trying to catch his breath. That had to be the strongest orgasm that he's had in a really long time, and he can thank the kiss for making this happen.

By the time that Satoru has calmed down and feels himself beginning to drift off to sleep, he remembers that he's still wearing the shirt. He tries to avoid sleeping in them as much as possible, because wearing them for long periods of time removes Suguru's scent and replaces it with his own. Satoru obviously doesn't want that. No, he's not always successful in remembering to return the shirt to his storage box, but he's successful most of the time.

However, when Satoru glances down at the shirt that he still wears and finds that it's decorated with fresh cum stains, he curses. Multiple times.

The shirt is ruined now. His precious piece of treasure is dirty and needs to be washed, which will completely remove Suguru's scent from the fabric, making the shirt totally useless to him.

Oh, well.

Satoru will just have to obtain another one.

***

hey loser

hey princess

I'll kill you.
im not above committing murder.

so hostile lol
you insulted me first tho

that wasn't an insult
it's a term of endearment
loser <3

right…
then so is princess <3

fuck off

you started it
what do u want?

>__>
so. any plans this weekend?

maybe.
why?

im trying to come over. duh
let me spend the night

hmmm

?????

I might have company over
not sure yet

for real?

yup

well they can sleep on the floor
I'll take the bed
you can have the couch

what the fuck?
don't divide my furniture like u own it

I can't sleep on the couch tho
my legs are too long

and whose fault is that?
should've stopped growing
beanpole

smells like jealousy to me
u should get that checked out
it reeks

anyway ur not coming over

dude what
why

I just told u
I might have company

and who the fuck is this company
what makes them so special
huh???

wow you're dense
it's a hookup, satoru
I'm hooking up with someone
maybe

oh

yeah
but maybe next weekend instead?
I should be free both days

ok

we can get lunch if u want
and see that new movie u mentioned

ok

hey I'll text u again later
class is about to start

ok

***

Life is cruel.

Satoru hates life.

Melon soda floats are the only things worth living for. He slurps from the long, blue twirly straw and is greeted by air, since he finished the drink minutes ago and just wants something in his mouth. It's starting to piss him off that he hasn't received his next drink yet. Didn't he order it ages ago? Some people just can't do their jobs efficiently. If Satoru worked here, he'd be pumping out drinks left and right and his customer service voice would be impeccable. He's too good to work in a place like this, though. They wouldn't be able to handle his superior skill level.

Finally, the waitress approaches his lonely table positioned all the way in the corner of the establishment, the same table that Satoru always sits at, and he scoffs when he sees her.

“Took you long enough,” he mumbles, already stabbing his silly straw into the drink once it touches the table. “Didn't realize it took that long to put a single scoop of ice cream into a glass of soda.”

Utahime sneers at him. “This is your fourth drink, brat. Can you leave now? I have more important things to do than entertain your temper tantrum.”

Satoru ignores the insult and places the straw in between his lips. He slurps continuously until half of the beverage is gone already, the melting ice cream scoop shifting over the ice and hardly mixing into the green liquid beneath it. It tastes much better when it's all mixed together, but Satoru can't be bothered to wait for that to happen. The instant dopamine from the sugar is what he's after, not the flavor of the dessert itself.

Surprisingly.

“You shouldn't talk to your customers like that,” Satoru replies afterwards, but he doesn't remember what she's just said and he really doesn't care. He takes another sip from his drink and exhales a long sigh.

“What's the matter with you?” Utahime asks, because for some reason, she hasn't walked away yet. “Not that I care. You look like shit, though.”

Another sigh. It's all that Satoru has been able to do lately. He just became an adult a little over a week ago and life is already taking a giant shit on his front porch. This must be why everyone walks around so depressed all the time. Adulthood stinks.

“I have to kill Suguru,” he quietly admits.

“Huh?” She blinks at him, stunned. “What for?”

Satoru leans forward to rest his forehead against the table, finally succumbing to the agony of it all. There's no point in keeping it a secret, he doesn't care enough and he's sure that she would find out eventually.

“He's cheating on me.”

“Huh?” Utahime repeats, and this time she sounds in total disbelief at what she's hearing. “Wait, wait, hold on a second. Since when the hell were you two dating? I always thought that your big ol’ disgusting crush on that jerk was mostly one-sided. At least, that's what I've heard.”

Satoru only lifts his head to glare at her. “From who?”

“Uh. No one,” she quickly lies, and then changes the subject. “Are you for real, though? About the cheating?”

“Mhmm…”

“Wow. That's… something. I mean, Suguru is a lot of things, but I never imagined him as the type of person to cheat. How long were you dating for?”

Satoru plants his face against the table again. He mumbles, “Since last week… we kissed on my birthday.”

“Damn. And he's already cheating? What a dickhead.” 

The slide of a wooden chair against tile flooring squeaks as Utahime sits in the seat across from him, fully invested in the juicy gossip now despite still being on the clock. Satoru keeps his face down, but he is a little surprised to hear her taking his side. He always assumed that she would rather die than ever be called an ally of Gojo Satoru, but maybe he's just too pitiful to be teased right now. And, well, knowing that just makes him even more depressed.

“So, the two of you kissed the other day and then you confessed to him?”

Satoru shakes his head.

“Oh. He confessed to you?”

Another head shake.

“Then… when did you decide that you were dating?”

“When we kissed, obviously.” Satoru finally lifts his head to look at her again, his eyes narrowed in confusion. He doesn't get how she can question such a simple concept when the answer should be obvious. “I asked him to kiss me and then he did. So, that means we're dating.”

However, Utahime snorts and shakes her head. “No, it doesn't. You can't just kiss someone and assume that you're in a committed relationship now, especially if you haven't even told him how you feel. So, have you told him anything? Anything at all?”

“No?” Satoru admits, and then because he feels like she's trying to make him look stupid, he rushes to defend his dignity. “And I shouldn't have to! It's obvious how I feel about him. Confessions are cheesy and a waste of time.”

“And that's why you're currently sitting here, looking miserable,” she argues back. “I mean, it really is obvious to everyone else, but maybe it's not obvious enough to Suguru? You should try being honest with him.”

It seems like that logic makes a lot of sense, but Satoru would prefer to never admit that of all people, Utahime is right and he's the one who's wrong. No, admitting something like that would tear apart the threads of their universe. It's best to keep quiet about it, then.

“You know what? I feel like being nice to you today,” Utahime suddenly announces. She even smiles at him, which is such a rare occurrence that Satoru recoils from it, shocked and mildly disgusted. Seeing his reaction, her smile instantly shifts into a frown. “Don't look at me like that. I'm being serious. Anyway, you probably don't have any plans for Christmas Eve, right? Well, a few of us are having a little get-together at Yuki's place. She recently dumped her boyfriend and now she wants to host a singles-only party to get shitfaced on the most romantic holiday of the year, and guess who's been invited?”

Satoru stares at her, waiting for her to finish. When he doesn't say anything or react to those words at all, Utahime rolls her eyes and continues.

“Suguru, duh. I'm pretty sure he said that he'd be there, so you should just tag along like you always do. Yuki wouldn't mind. The more the merrier, and all that. Maybe you can find a way to talk to him at the party, and since it'll be Christmas Eve, the mood will already be a romantic one, right? Oh, but you have to bring some type of snack with you. That's the only rule.”

A Christmas party does sound like a lot of fun. Satoru supposes that he could go. He never actually does anything special for this specific holiday season. Sometimes his parents are home, sometimes they aren't. Sometimes he hangs out with Suguru and spends all day playing video games with him, and sometimes Suguru has a date and Satoru stays home to wallow in self-pity. It really just depends on the year, because no year is ever exactly the same. 

In any case, going to the party might give Satoru the confidence boost that he needs. He'll finally be able to give Suguru a piece of his mind. Maybe he'll flick Suguru off and tell him to go fuck himself. Maybe he'll do it in front of everyone.

That would be priceless.

“Okay,” he agrees, grinning wickedly now. “I'll go.”

***

It's snowing on Christmas Eve.

Satoru jogs the rest of the way up the staircase of the apartment complex, his shallow breaths coming out as puffs of white smoke. He hadn't checked the weather when he got dressed this evening, initially only wearing a comfortable knitted sweater and a nice pair of fitted jeans. When he opened the front door and saw that white snowflakes had just begun falling from the sky, he spun around and grabbed one of his Burberry jackets to bring along with him.

Good choice, too, because now it's freezing and he can't wait to be inside again. Luckily, the door to Yuki's apartment comes open only seconds after Satoru knocks on it. However, instead of Yuki greeting him at the entrance, it's Utahime who stands before him, a glass of red wine in her other hand and an obvious red tint along her cheeks.

“Where's the snacks?” she asks instead of greeting him, her eyes scanning him up and down and a confused frown appearing when she sees that he's empty-handed.

Satoru smiles really wide, showing off all his teeth. “You're looking at him.”

A moment of silence, followed by the longest, most annoyed groan that makes her sound like a wildebeest. While Utahime makes a comment about him being rude and useless, Satoru ignores her as he enters the apartment, removes his jacket, and lazily kicks off his shoes. He takes a moment to count the other pairs nearby. Five pairs of shoes, not including his own or the ones that Utahime slid into so that she could answer the door. This is a good number. It means that it won't be crowded or too noisy, two things that Satoru can't stand dealing with.

As soon as Satoru enters the main room where everyone else is gathered, his eyes immediately betray him. It's like they turn into magnets, ignoring every other set of eyes in the big room and automatically focusing on a pair of amber ones, because he's here. Of course he's here, just like Utahime said that he would be. But the thing is, Satoru never mentioned to Suguru that he would be attending the little party, too. Suguru probably thinks that he doesn't even know about the party.

“Why the hell is this thing so impossible to open?”

The one complaining out loud and currently sitting cross-legged on the floor is Mahito, one of Suguru's few friends that he met while attending various punk shows across the city. Satoru has never liked him and he doesn't understand why anyone would, given how annoying and immature that he is, but whatever. To each his own. Right now, he's struggling to open a tin canister of what appears to be butter cookies.

Sat behind him on the couch, Suguru laughs at his suffering and says, “Maybe it's because you're pulling on the wrong side, dumbass. Flip it around.”

It's at that moment when he finally looks up to see the new person who has entered the room, and when their eyes meet, Satoru feels his heart skip a beat in his chest. He feels stuck, too, like he can't take another step. This is the first time that they've been together in person since the fated kiss on Satoru's birthday. He stares because Suguru looks too good, even wearing something as simple as a black crew neck and baggy pants—and then his socks throw everything off, because they're Christmas themed. Forest green with red Santa Claus hats. He probably picked out that pair of socks ironically. He probably thinks that it's hilarious.

Now, the teasing expression that had been on Suguru's face immediately shifts into something a whole lot softer and much fonder in nature. He doesn't get a chance to greet Satoru first, though, because then Satoru's vision is obscured by blond hair and a friendly face that he hasn't seen in a while.

“Satoru!” Yuki cheers, suddenly throwing her arms around him and squeezing so hard that Satoru struggles to breathe. The scent of booze hangs in the air between them, because of course she's already a bit wasted. “I didn't know that you were coming! What the hell? No one tells me anything. Also, Jesus. You really are a lot taller now…”

Yuki leans back from him to take in his appearance, her eyes scanning his body from head to toe. She eventually reacts with a low whistle, seemingly impressed by what she sees.

“How tall are you? Two meters?”

“Almost,” Satoru boasts, and his mouth curves into a prideful grin. “I could be—in the right pair of shoes and my hair styled in a quiff. That's too much work, though.”

Yuki nods, hyping him up. “That's badass. You're basically the size of one and a half Shokos, I think.”

“Hey, I'm not that short,” Shoko complains from where she's sitting next to Suguru. “And don't use me as a unit of measurement.”

Yuki ignores the complaint and addresses Satoru again. “Come, come. Have a drink with me. You can drink now, right? Or not. Well, I guess it doesn't matter. I'm not gonna snitch. Hey, everyone move over. You're hogging the couch.”

Before Satoru can respond to any of that, he's being tugged over to the couch and then a can of beer is shoved into his hand. Satoru has only tried alcohol one other time before this. It was during Suguru's 20th birthday celebration. Satoru was fifteen at the time, which was perhaps his most embarrassing year of life so far. Back then, he always wanted to do everything that Suguru was doing, and so when Suguru was drinking beer to celebrate being of legal age to do so, Satoru had demanded the chance to do the same.

As a result of his tantrum, Suguru finally allowed him a few sips of the stuff. Satoru immediately spit it out and almost puked, even though none of it had gone down his throat.

So, Satoru doesn't like beer or any type of alcohol for that matter, but he's an adult now. An adult man. He can be mature enough to handle a single can of beer, even if he's technically still underage. That doesn't matter in the slightest, because who hasn't consumed alcohol before they were of age? Only uncool people, that's who. 

Satoru is very cool. He's the youngest one in the room but he fits right in, despite not being a member of the punk scene nor a motorbike enthusiast. Everyone here is a member of Suguru's friend group, some he's known since high school and others he met while attending university. And since Satoru always tags along, he knows all of Suguru's friends and acquaintances to some extent. That makes them his friends, too.

For example, there's Yuki, who Suguru knows from high school and is the same person who got him interested in motorbikes. Then there's Shoko, who's been Suguru's classmate for years and almost always attends punk shows with him. Utahime is a friend of Shoko's and therefore, an extended friend of Suguru's. Mahito is another punk rocker who once tried to recruit Suguru into his shitty band, but the band never took off and quickly dissolved due to constant fights between the members. Lastly, the newest member of their little friend group is Choso, who actually is in a band and goes to the same school, too. He's not as loud as some of the other personalities in the group, so Satoru hasn't talked to him much. Even now, he sits on the floor with Mahito and enjoys his liquor in silence.

Despite not being as close to everyone else, Satoru still knows all of the juicy drama, too; courtesy of Suguru always telling him everything. He knows about Yuki's (now ex) boyfriend who lives overseas and is apparently a sleazebag, and he also knows that she's gotten really close to Choso lately, anyway, and so the break-up was practically inevitable. He knows that Shoko and Utahime used to date at one point and now they're just “good friends”, even though they never seem to sit next to each other. Satoru also knows that, apparently, no one in the group actually likes Mahito, but he always finds a way to involve himself and he's always causing strife.

Satoru knows all of this and plenty more, but he wouldn't be involved at all if it weren't for Suguru. While Yuki goes off on a drunken tangent and accidentally starts speaking in English when she gets angry, Satoru finds himself glancing at Suguru multiple times. Just a little peek is all that he hopes for. Shoko is sitting in between them, but she's short and also slouched down into the seat, so Satoru has a clear vision of the guy in his peripheral vision. 

This is why he knows that Suguru has been looking at him, too. He's been focused on Satoru ever since his arrival, but they haven't spoken a word to each other at all. This is all part of Satoru's plan, of course. Suguru upset him and made him feel like shit, therefore, Satoru will give him the cold shoulder by pretending that he doesn't exist. It's the perfect plan and this is what he's sticking with.

Evidently, Suguru refuses to let that happen.

While pretending to be absorbed in conversation, Satoru is suddenly interrupted when something tugs the hairs at the back of his head. 

“Ow. What the hell was that for?” 

He twists his head around to glare at the offender, and Suguru doesn't even try to hide that it was him. His arm still rests along the back of the couch and he looks pleased with himself for finally getting Satoru's attention.

“You never said hi to me,” Suguru replies, no further explanation than that.

In between them, Shoko reacts with an amused laugh that she tries (and fails) to disguise as a cough. Meanwhile, Satoru tries to keep his cool. No matter what, he can't show weakness.

“Uh, hi?” he responds, and then he turns back to Yuki.

Suguru tugs his hair for the second time.

Satoru glares daggers at him.

“Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

Wow. He's definitely being difficult on purpose. Somehow, Suguru has already picked up on the fact that Satoru doesn't want to be bothered with him, and now he's going to behave like a brat despite how he always scolds Satoru for being the brat. How is this fair at all? That's right, it's not fair and Satoru shouldn't have to deal with it. This is all Suguru's fault, anyway.

“I need some water,” Satoru announces.

He rises from the couch and quickly excuses himself, not looking back as he heads into the nearby kitchen. He hopes that he hasn't been too obvious with the lie. He's only taken a single sip of his beer so far, and he had to force himself to swallow it. So, it's not like he's tipsy or anything, but he still searches the various cabinets for a glass and fills it with tap water when he finds one. Hiding in the kitchen is much easier than facing a bratty Suguru.

Satoru has no clue how to deal with that.

“Boo.”

A sudden voice behind his ear makes Satoru choke on the sip of water he'd been in the middle of swallowing. A few harsh coughs are forced out of him and when he turns around, the brat of the hour is smirking at him.

“Fuck.” Satoru hits Suguru on the chest with the back of his hand. “Don't do that, asshole.”

Much to his dismay, Suguru appears completely unaffected. He leans back against the counter next to the sink, his eyes never leaving Satoru's face, and Satoru's brain chooses now to remind him of the kiss. All of a sudden, the room feels too hot and Satoru's belly is burning like a furnace; his face, too. 

“Why are you hiding in here?” Suguru asks.

Satoru looks away from him. “Hiding? Who says I'm hiding? I'm just staying hydrated, something you and your friends have probably never heard of.”

Just to demonstrate, he brings the glass to his lips and gulps down at least half of its contents. It's not an easy task. Satoru never drinks water that isn't purified and enhanced with all the essential minerals and electrolytes.

“Fine. Maybe you aren't hiding,” Suguru agrees, but then he adds, “You are avoiding me, though. How come?”

Now, Satoru wishes that he could escape. He can already tell that this conversation will go into a direction that he doesn't approve of, but he can't just run away, either. He could try to change the subject, but Suguru is too damn stubborn to leave things be. It's his stubbornness that frustrates Satoru the most. He always has to give in at some point, otherwise they'll keep running in circles forever.

Even knowing all of that, Satoru still mumbles, “What? I'm not avoiding you. You're making things up.”

“We haven't hung out in over two weeks.”

“You've been counting?”

“And I always have to text you first, too, otherwise we just won't talk.”

“Jesus. You make it sound like I'm a bad friend just for being busy. I have a life, too, by the way.”

Nothing else is said following that statement. An awkward silence falls over them and suddenly the kitchen feels too small and crowded. Satoru hates feeling cornered. He doesn't understand why this whole thing has been turned into an interrogation on him. Suguru is the one who agreed to kiss him and then went off and slept with someone else, as if Satoru and his feelings are nonexistent—negligible. 

“Sorry.” Suguru finally speaks up, putting an end to the horrifically awkward silence. An apology isn't what Satoru expects to hear. For the first time since their conversation began, he looks at Suguru, and it's immediately apparent that he's telling the truth. He really is sorry. He still asks, “What have you been busy with?”

On the other hand, Satoru takes a tad longer to recover. Even though Suguru is being honest with him, for some reason, he still feels compelled to lie.

“School. Studying. Y'know, university entrance exams and all that. It's apparently a really big deal, so I'm trying to take it seriously.”

Thankfully, Suguru doesn't call him out on his bullshit. Not directly, anyway.

“You? Taking things seriously? I never knew you had that ability. What else can you do? Any magic tricks?”

“Shut up.” Satoru elbows him in the side, and admittedly, it makes him feel a little better to hear Suguru laugh. He teases, “It's not like you haven't also been busy entertaining your company and whatnot.”

Suguru blinks at him. “My company?”

“Yeah. Your so-called hookups or whatever.”

Just like that, the atmosphere seems to switch up again and Satoru can practically feel the awkwardness hanging above their heads. He's not sure why that is, or why Suguru suddenly looks a bit uncomfortable. Weren't they just teasing each other a second ago? Satoru is just repeating what Suguru told him a couple weeks ago.

He's just being honest.

“I didn't hook up with anyone, though.”

Wait.

What?

“What?” Satoru says out loud this time.

Next to him, Suguru folds his arms over his chest and stares at the blank wall opposite of them instead of into Satoru's giant orbs.

He repeats: “I didn't hook up with anyone.”

“Oh.” Satoru continues to stare holes into the side of his head. He can't help it when he asks, “Why not?”

Suguru shrugs. “Plans change. Moods change. That's all. Anyway, that's a weird thing to ask, don't you think?”

“Oh,” Satoru repeats, dumbstruck. “Sorry…”

It surprises him when Suguru laughs all of a sudden, and  now the mood has taken yet another turn and Satoru just can't keep up. It's impossible.

“I'm kidding,” Suguru clarifies, then gently bumps their shoulders together. “You can always ask me anything. I don't mind.”

For some reason that he just can't explain, Satoru kind of wants to hit him.

Or kiss him.

Maybe both at the same time.

Instead, he reciprocates the shoulder bump and teases back, “Okay. First question: why are you such a jerk?”

Suguru hums as he thinks of an answer, his gentle smile stretching wider with each passing second. Satoru can't take his eyes off him now. No, he really can't look away even if he wanted to.

“I was born this way,” Suguru concludes.

Satoru sticks his tongue out in disgust. “Ew. Cringe.”

Now both of them are laughing and it's all so silly. Satoru feels so silly. Why was he so pissed off before? Turns out his grief was all for nothing, and while he's still annoyed that it happened in the first place, he's so relieved to hear the truth. Suguru isn't a cheater and maybe they still aren't officially dating, but they could be. Maybe.

Maybe Satoru really does have to talk to him about it.

Satoru forces himself to be brave.

“So, um…”

Approaching footsteps are heard prior to the face that appears from around the corner as someone else enters the kitchen, interrupting them.

“Oops.” Mahito glances back and forth between the two of them, because it just had to be him, of all people. A mischievous grin slowly spreads along his face and he asks, “Am I interrupting something? My bad. This is a public space, though, so you should consider flirting somewhere else next time.”

He walks over to the fridge while whistling a random tune, and then he's digging through the appliance as if he owns the place. He ends up settling on a jug of orange juice. Instead of pouring himself a glass, he drinks directly from the container while staring at them.

Everything about him just pisses Satoru off.

“Fuck off,” he says, unable to conceal his true feelings, and why should he have to? Mahito gives him the ick.

“Why? I haven't even done anything.” Mahito takes another swig from the orange juice before replacing the cap and setting the jug to the side. He adds casually, “It's not like I walked in on you two fucking each other like barbarians, so chill.”

For some reason, hearing those words feels a lot like a punch to the gut. Maybe it wouldn't have affected Satoru so much if Suguru weren't standing right next to him, or maybe if he wasn't secretly balls deep in love with Suguru in the first place. Being teased by people that he doesn't give a shit about has never affected Satoru in the slightest, but now it does affect him and he feels so incredibly uncomfortable. He can feel the heat that instantly rises to his cheeks and he clenches his fists, ready to throw hands.

However, before he can physically assault this jackass in the middle of Yuki's kitchen, Suguru reacts to the teasing first.

“Wow. You're a real piece of shit, you know that?”

It surprises Satoru to hear the genuine irritation in Suguru's tone. It's just so rare for Suguru to drop the “cool guy” facade that he always keeps up, even in front of Satoru, who he's known for basically his entire life so far. In an instant, Satoru forgets all about how Mahito's words made him feel, because now he can only focus on Suguru and the carnal desire building up in his gut.

Mahito responds with a shrug, unaffected by the insult. “I don't know, I think I'm actually quite pleasant.”

Rather than arguing (because of course it's pointless), Suguru only rolls his eyes. Then, he ignores the presence of a third person in the room and turns his attention to Satoru again, his irritated frown being replaced with gentle affection in an instant.

“Come drink with me.”

Satoru isn't given a choice in the matter. After making that suggestion, Suguru takes him by the hand and leads him out of the kitchen. Satoru gets whiplash from it all. One second he's angry and embarrassed, and then incredibly horny, and now embarrassed again because they're holding hands and everyone can see them holding hands. Suguru doesn't let go of him, either. Not even when they reach the couch, but there's not enough space anymore because Choso is sitting next to Yuki now and Shoko hasn't moved a muscle. Utahime is snoring on the only lounge chair in the room and now there's just one spot left.

That doesn't seem to matter, though. Not to Suguru, anyway. He reclaims his same spot from earlier and then pulls Satoru onto his lap—as if it's the most normal thing in the world.

What the hell is going on?

Satoru never finds out, because soon afterwards, he's being handed a glass of purple liquid and Yuki makes them all toast to being “sexy and single”, and Satoru downs the drink with ease. He's surprised by how sweet it is. Even though he can still feel the faint burn of alcohol at the back of his throat, it's carbonated and very sweet like grape soda. He decides that he likes it, but even more than that, he likes sitting in Suguru's lap and feeling utterly spoiled. And when Suguru asks him if he's having fun, Satoru responds with the biggest smile and a confident nod.

Unfortunately, it turns out that it's entirely possible to have too much fun, and Satoru only discovers this once he's already consumed the entire bottle of the soda-like wine. He can't even keep himself propped up on Suguru's lap anymore. He ends up slouched against him instead, his head resting against Suguru's shoulder while the room spins around him. It doesn't make sense, because Satoru knows that he isn't moving but it certainly feels like he is. And then if he really does try to move, he's positive that he'll topple over and give himself a concussion. Basically, he's stuck. 

Somewhere else in the room, someone is singing karaoke very loudly and the lights have been dimmed to set the mood, and it seems like a lot of fun, but Satoru can feel himself getting overwhelmed by it all. All that he can do is cling to Suguru while endless hiccups rise from his throat. It almost hurts at this point.

“Okay, who's next? Anyone?” A voice says—Yuki's voice, but she almost sounds far away. “C'mon, I can't be the only one singing. Why are y'all so tired? It's not even midnight yet. Mahito, get your ass over here and sing something.”

Another voice—one that's much closer—responds to her with a petulant whine.

“Why me? I sang so many times already. I know you think my voice is sexy and all, but how about asking the cuddly fags behind me instead?”

Satoru is jostled by the sudden movement of Suguru's leg, and then a pained cry immediately follows the harsh kick that he delivers to the guy on the floor.

“What have I said about using that word?”

“I can say it!” Mahito stubbornly insists. “I'm not straight.”

“I don't give a shit. You're not gonna call me that, and don't ever call Satoru that, either. Understand?”

Mahito grumbles something that Satoru can't hear from where he's still resting against Suguru's shoulder, and though his rudeness has already been thoroughly handled, Satoru's thirst for revenge overtakes everything else that he's currently feeling.

“You're just mad because… you're ugly as fuck and you're built like a scarecrow.”

Satoru meant for the insult to be delivered directly to that annoying bastard Mahito, so it surprises him when several other people in the room begin cracking up. Hard. It's like they've all been waiting for someone to tell him off, and Satoru won't pretend that he isn't proud to be the one to do so. But as soon as he lets himself join in on the laughter, his stomach churns. It hurts. Saliva fills his mouth without warning and—oh, no.

He's going to be sick.

It takes so much mental strength and physical effort for Satoru to quickly scramble off Suguru's lap. He almost trips over nothing as his feet touch the hardwood floor, and then he's forcing his wobbly legs to move. He just has to make it to the bathroom. It's not so far away that he can't do this one simple thing. 

“Satoru?” A voice calls out to him from the couch, the most familiar voice of all. “Are you okay?”

Satoru can't afford to waste time chatting right now. His stomach churns again as a warning that he doesn't have a choice. He ignores the concerns and wobbles out of the room as quickly as he can, while the sound of annoying laughter fades into the background—Mahito, of course. Satoru doesn't care that he's being made fun of, he slams the bathroom door behind himself and falls to his knees in front of the toilet bowl.

Just in time.

This is probably what it feels like to slowly die a sad, painful death. As he remains hunched over the toilet, his body forcefully emptying every single thing that he stuffed into his greedy mouth this evening, Satoru is pretty certain that he's going to die. There's no doubt about it. His corpse will be found curled up pathetically on the floor of Yuki's bathroom, an empty husk of a man who once thought himself to be so great. His tombstone will say something like: 

Here lies Gojo Satoru. 

Gone too soon and still a virgin.

This sucks.

“Satoru?”

It's that same voice again, slightly muffled and very concerned on the other side of the closed door. Suguru doesn't wait for an answer, which is good, because Satoru can't raise his voice to be heard through the door right now. He can barely even focus on breathing. So, he doesn't look up when the door comes open and then quickly shuts again. Suddenly, there's a warm hand gently stroking his back and Satoru wants to cry.

“It's okay,” Suguru murmurs soothingly. “You're okay.”

He never stops caressing Satoru even as the younger boy dry heaves a few more times into the toilet bowl. It seems like nothing else wants to come out, and hopefully that means that it's almost over. Satoru still feels awful. He only feels a little less awful when that comforting hand is placed in his hair instead, and Suguru pets him until he's finally able to calm down.

“Don't look at me,” Satoru mumbles. He uses the back of his hand to wipe at the unshed tears along his eyelashes. “I'm gross and disgusting… just like Mahito.”

Behind him, Suguru laughs. “Not true. You'll never be anything like Mahito. Never.”

Well, that's reassuring.

Satoru spits into the bowl and reaches up to flush his dignity down the drain. He tries to feel relieved about the situation, because at least he didn't empty his guts onto the beautiful violet rug in Yuki's living room. At least he didn't get sick in front of everyone—especially Suguru. But Suguru followed him in here anyway, because he's Suguru and he can never keep himself out of Satoru's business. He can never resist the urge to take care of him, spoil him, and make Satoru fall in love with him even more.

It's beginning to feel like he does all of this on purpose.

“Still feel like you might be sick?” Suguru asks, still raking his fingers through Satoru’s hair.

Satoru shakes his head. “I… I think it might be done now.”

“Good. Come on, let's get you to the sink so that you can rinse your mouth.”

Since Satoru's legs still feel wobbly like jello, Suguru helps him up from the floor and guides him over to the sink with a protective arm around his waist. Once there, Satoru feels like he can definitely handle things himself now, but Suguru doesn't even give him the chance. He turns on the faucet, allows the water to gather into his palm, and then brings his palm to Satoru's lips. Satoru is left with no choice but to obey. He sips from Suguru's hand and swishes the water around in his gross mouth a few times before spitting into the sink. Afterwards, he watches Suguru's reflection in the mirror as Suguru starts searching through a nearby shelf.

“I think Yuki keeps mouthwash somewhere around here… yup, found it. Wanna use some?”

Satoru nods. They probably shouldn't touch Yuki's things at all and he's already caused enough drama as it is, but he has a feeling that he wouldn't be able to say no to anything that Suguru offers him right now.

So, he uses the mouthwash. He doesn't even make a sarcastic comment when Suguru tells him not to swallow the liquid, as if Satoru is too drunk to remember how to properly use mouthwash. It's ridiculous. He's ridiculous. 

He's still the best thing that's ever happened to Satoru, though.

Suguru asks, “Feeling better now?”

And Satoru nods again. “Yeah. Thanks…”

“Any time.”

His smile incites an entirely different feeling in Satoru's gut, almost completely overpowering the aches and pains that have been left behind as a result of strained abdominal muscles. It also doesn't help that Suguru currently has both hands on Satoru's hips, steadying him against the sink as if Satoru will fall flat on his face without Suguru here to hold him. He really isn't that useless, but again, he can't find it in himself to say no.

Besides, Satoru has always enjoyed being spoiled.

“Let's get you home.”

Oh.

That suggestion takes Satoru's mood and flushes it down the toilet to join the contents of his stomach. He's already frowning and shaking his head before even considering the fact that he really should rest and recover. 

“I don't wanna go home,” Satoru insists, pouting. He doesn't care if that makes him childish. He doesn't want to go home, he wants to stay with Suguru and sit on his lap again and enjoy the good vibes from before he got physically ill.

That's all.

“I know. I meant with me,” Suguru clarifies. “You can spend the night at my place. We can still make the last train if we leave right now, but we really should hurry.”

“Oh,” Satoru reacts, shocked. 

Suguru wants to take him back home. Home. Suguru's apartment. Satoru's other home, basically. At least, that's what it seems like is being implied here. That's what Satoru hopes Suguru is implying. In fact, he's going to allow himself to be fully delusional again. Just for tonight.

Just for now, because Suguru keeps giving and Satoru will gladly take all that he can get.

“Okay… let's go home.”

***

They make it onto the last train with only seconds to spare.

Satoru is left feeling completely exhausted after being made to power walk to the train station in his current state. He leans into Suguru's side and rests his head upon his shoulder for the entire duration of the commute. There's hardly anyone around, anyway. It's Christmas Eve and most people are spending the evening in their cozy homes with their loved ones, instead of wandering around in the blistering cold as snow continues to descend from above.

Satoru doesn't mind the cold, because Suguru is warm. He keeps an arm around Satoru as they leave the station to trek through the thin sheets of fresh snow. The apartment isn't too far from the station, maybe about a fifteen minute walk, but Satoru gradually slows down with each passing minute. He's not as dizzy anymore and his stomach doesn't hurt as much as it did before, but he still feels funny and he can't move his legs any faster. He doesn't understand how alcohol could have such a lasting effect on his body, or how Suguru looks totally fine despite all the sake that he knocked back earlier. 

What a jerk.

Sure, having a better tolerance for alcohol isn't Suguru's fault at all, but Satoru feels like blaming him anyway.

“We're almost there,” Suguru reminds him for the second or third time now. Though his words sound encouraging, the look on his face is far too smug. “You can do it, ‘Toru. I'm rooting for you.”

“Shut… up,” Satoru begs. He has to pause when he feels like his knees might give out. He makes a mental note to never allow himself to get drunk ever again. “You know what, just leave me here. I'll… I'll make it there on my own.”

“Oh, yeah? Let's see you try, then.”

Without warning, Suguru lets go of him. Satoru stumbles forward a few times and nearly slips on a bit of ice, a terrified shriek leaving his mouth just before Suguru manages to catch him. He would rather not cling helplessly to the bastard who nearly caused his demise, but Satoru also doesn't want to risk dying, either. So, he clings.

“So, what did we learn from that?” Suguru teases, because he's always teasing and Satoru can't stand him sometimes.

“That you're a bitch,” Satoru teases back. He always needs to have the last word, no matter what. Sure, Suguru could drop him again, but at least Satoru would've won his final argument before his death. Since he's still living for now, Satoru complains, “Fuck, it's cold.”

Suguru releases a long sigh that turns into white smoke in front of them. “That's because we're going so slow… okay, stop walking for a sec. I have a better idea.”

Just as suggested, Satoru pauses and waits for this “better idea” that will supposedly save them. It comes in the form of Suguru stepping in front of him and crouching down suddenly. Satoru stares down at his back, totally clueless, until Suguru finally gives him instructions.

“Get on. I'll carry you.”

Oh.

That's what he meant.

But how is Satoru supposed to react to suddenly being offered a piggyback ride from his crush on Christmas Eve, all while beautiful snowflakes fall down around them and get caught in long, gorgeous, majestic black hair? What is Satoru supposed to say?

Maybe Satoru shouldn't say anything. His intoxicated mind decides that he'll simply take advantage of this situation, because it'll probably never happen again and he deserves to be treated like royalty, after all the heartache that Suguru put him through the past couple of weeks. Yes, Satoru deserves this kind of treatment, and he deserves it much more than anyone else. 

Especially Suguru's “company” who apparently never actually stayed over.

Satoru is staying over, though. Because Suguru invited him to stay over. On Christmas Eve. The most romantic holiday in modern-day Japan.

Oh, they're definitely going to fuck tonight.

After reaching that conclusion, Satoru feels completely revitalized. He steps forward and leans against Suguru's back, gasping when his feet are lifted off the ground not even a second later. Satoru wraps his arms around Suguru's shoulders to feel more secure, while Suguru adjusts his firm grip along the underside of Satoru's thighs. Without another word or even a single complaint, he begins walking through the snow.

“I'm not too heavy?” Satoru asks, curious. 

He can't even remember the last time that Suguru carried him on his back like this. Not since he was a little boy, short and lanky and so much smaller than Suguru had been. He thinks he can recall Suguru giving him piggyback rides all the time, though. Satoru always felt so high and mighty when he was being carried around like this. Now he towers over everyone with his own legs, but it just isn't the same.

“Nah,” Suguru tells him, and then his tone shifts into something much more arrogant when he adds, “I could bench press almost twice your weight, back when I was more consistent with my training. So, this is nothing.”

Satoru snorts, teasing, “Nice. And people say I'm the cocky one.”

Even though he teases, Satoru really wants Suguru to bench press him now that it's been mentioned.

“It's honesty, not cockiness,” Suguru insists. “Confusing the two is really easy for people who have incredibly small brains, like Mahito.”

Not expecting that, Satoru reacts with a boisterous laugh. It's so hilarious to him that Mahito has become the metaphorical punching bag for the night, even when he's not around—and rightfully so. Because fuck that guy.

“I don't get why you guys still bother hanging out with him,” Satoru mumbles afterwards. He recalls the way that Mahito had teased them in the kitchen earlier and how uncomfortable the sexual joke had made him feel. “He doesn't seem like a very good friend. Just saying.”

“He's not my friend,” Suguru corrects, and he's quick to do so. “He's just kind of… there. It's hard to explain. Some people in life are gonna be your friends, and some people stick around even when they're not your friend. Y'know?”

“Nope. That's way too complicated.”

Suguru is the one to laugh outright this time, the lovely sound echoing in the quiet space around them. Satoru loves that sound. He loves being the cause of it, too. It brings a smile to his face that he can't contain, and even though Suguru obviously can't see his face like this, Satoru still feels the need to hide his big silly grin against Suguru's shoulder.

He tries his best to listen when Suguru speaks up again, despite how he feels like he could easily fall asleep at any point. 

“Okay, let's put it this way. There are people like you and then there are people like Mahito. You can easily guess which one I'm going to choose, right?”

Well, when he says it like that… how is Satoru meant to believe that Suguru isn't just as madly in love with him as he is with Suguru?

It's impossible, really.

It's the only explanation that he can come up with.

God. He's so fucking glad that he went to the Christmas party.

“Right,” Satoru agrees just a moment later.

He distantly wonders if Suguru can feel his heart beating wildly against his back.

***

Inside the apartment, Satoru allows himself to be spoiled even further.

Should he feel guilty for pretending to be even more helpless as the night goes on? Doesn't matter, because he's choosing to keep on pretending anyway. He makes no complaints when Suguru places him on the bed and rummages through the dresser to find a set of cozy pajamas for him. It's cold outside and Suguru doesn't want him to get sick, he keeps mumbling that he can't believe he still hasn't gotten a new space heater since his old one broke. 

Satoru doesn't make any comments. He allows Suguru to undress him, too, since his movements are still sluggish from the alcohol. He hopes that his deep blush isn't too obvious in the darkened room, but he can also blame his reddened cheeks on the cold. Either way, whether or not Suguru notices the blush on Satoru's cheeks and the lust in his eyes, he doesn't make any comments. He pulls an oversized black hoodie over Satoru's head and makes him wear a pair of baggy sweatpants, and as much as Satoru likes being treated so gently, he decides to take on a different approach.

“Let's cuddle,” he suggests, followed by a yawn and a sleepy grin.

Cuddling will definitely put them in the right mood. Satoru is sure of it.

Meanwhile, Suguru arches a brow and the smile that appears on his face is more amused than anything.

“You're drunk, Satoru. Go to sleep, okay?”

“I'm not drunk,” Satoru argues. “Not anymore, I mean. The snow totally sobered me up and I'm still cold, so we should cuddle.”

While he speaks, he reaches out and grabs hold of the hem along Suguru's sweater, playing with it. Satoru tugs on it afterwards in an attempt to bring Suguru closer, but Suguru doesn't budge from where he's sitting at the edge of the mattress. He only watches Satoru with that same expression on his face, seemingly unbothered—and that's kind of frustrating. Satoru is trying to be flirtatious.

Yet, instead of flirting back, Suguru teases, “Aw. Need an extra blanket, princess?”

“No, stupid. I need you.”

His big blue eyes are wide and pleading, eager hands still tugging on the sweater and he's determined to show that he's serious. He wants Suguru and he wants him now. There should be no confusion on what he's hoping for, and even a stubborn guy like Suguru should get the hint.

During this entire interaction, Suguru has just been letting Satoru do whatever he wants, but he eventually puts an end to things by gently pushing away the desperate hands still clinging to his sweater. And no matter how gentle he is when he pushes those hands away, Satoru can't help feeling terribly rejected.

“Go to sleep,” Suguru repeats.

He says nothing more than that, just gives Satoru's cheek a quick pinch before rising from the bed just as quickly. He leaves the bedroom before Satoru can properly react to any of it. 

Well, that went poorly.

Satoru lets out an angry huff and tries to think back on where the weak points were in his failed plan to seduce his crush. He doesn't get very far in his analysis, yawn after yawn escaping him until he's forced to give in. He supposes that he can just think about it in the morning. Anything that he comes up with now wouldn't be reliable, not when he's so exhausted and Suguru's bed is so damn comfortable and smells just like him.

That's why as soon as Satoru stops fighting it, he falls unconscious within seconds.

When Satoru awakens some time later, his mouth feels dryer than a cotton ball. He sits up in bed, dazed, and wonders how long he's been out for. The bedroom is still mostly dark, only illuminated by the soft lamp on the dresser that Suguru uses as a nightlight. Satoru smacks his dry lips together and turns his head to the side, just now discovering a tall glass of water on the nightstand and a little garbage bin next to the bed. 

Neither of those things were there earlier, when Suguru guided him into the bedroom and basically tucked him in for the night. This means that at some point after rejecting Satoru's advances, Suguru must have returned to the room and set the items there. Just in case Satoru started to feel sick again or dehydrated, much like he is now.

Satoru tries not to think too hard about the kind, selfless, caring gesture from his best friend. At the end of the day, it doesn't change anything. Suguru still rejected him. Sighing, he reaches for the glass of water and practically pours it down his throat. It really hits the spot, but it's gone too soon and he's still quite thirsty.

Maybe Satoru is being a little too desperate with his desires. He considers this as he slowly rises from the bed, hoping that his legs won't fail him now that more time has passed since his “alcoholic adventures”. As Satoru slowly makes his way to the door with the empty glass in hand, he wonders if maybe Suguru expects more of a challenge. Maybe he wants Satoru to play hard to get. Maybe Suguru wants to do the chasing instead of the other way around.

Honestly, who the hell knows what Suguru wants? Satoru doesn't. Sometimes he thinks that he knows Suguru better than anyone else in the world, and other times he feels like Suguru is wearing a permanent mask on his face, even around Satoru, his lifelong best friend. The thought of not knowing everything about Suguru has always made Satoru uncomfortable. It feels like he's been dealing with this for the past several years, ever since Suguru went off to college and became his own person.

Satoru still remembers the time a couple years ago when he went into a depressive episode after finding out that Suguru was having sex at college. It was the summer when Satoru was fifteen and Suguru was twenty. Something had compelled him to suddenly ask Suguru if he ever wanted to kiss a boy. At the time, Satoru thought it was a reasonable question to ask one random afternoon when it was way too hot outside to do anything but sit around all day. He remembers Suguru pausing, lifting his gaze from the comic book in his hands, and staring back into Satoru's curious eyes.

Suguru claimed that he'd already kissed a boy before.

Not long after that, he admitted to having sex with one, too.

After that day, Satoru obsessed over what he had learned and he remembers feeling so hurt and betrayed, so uncomfortable with the knowledge that Suguru had had sex for the first time—and with a boy, no less—while Satoru wasn't even close to having his first kiss yet. At the time, he convinced himself that he was just jealous due to being inexperienced. He thought that maybe he just wished he could experience the same thing, and it took him ages before he realized why he felt that way. 

Satoru wasn't jealous that Suguru had experienced sex before.

He was jealous that someone else had touched Suguru in the first place.

But Satoru likes to think that he's matured a lot since then. He's gotten used to the concept of Suguru being an adult who gets to do whatever he wants, and now Satoru can finally say the same about himself. 

Each step that Satoru takes towards the living room is small and calculated. He still doesn't trust his uselessly long legs and he'd probably die if he tripped and fell over from this height, so he takes his time on the way to the kitchen. However, he has to pass through the living room to get there, and the light from the television screen illuminates the room as it comes into view. 

It's completely silent, the television on mute and playing an old Christmas film in the background. Satoru's tired eyes adjust to the bright lighting as he glances towards the couch where Suguru is resting. He assumes that Suguru is asleep. He doesn't want to accidentally wake him, but then Satoru notices the rhythmic movements of Suguru's arms and hears a long sigh, and…

Oh, fuck.

Satoru freezes, his feet not taking another step. His eyes widen and his jaw drops open at what he sees before him: Suguru lying on his back across the couch, long hair spilling over the armrest and his comfy sweater hiked up to his chest. One of his hands is slowly trailing across his abdomen while the other hand is shoved down into his sweatpants, stroking his cock.

Suguru is masturbating.

Right there in the living room.

Right in front of Satoru's eyes.

When Satoru's brain finally starts working again, it tells him to run away, hide, go back to the bedroom and pretend that he never saw anything. But Satoru's legs won't obey him anymore and Suguru can't see him from this position, anyway, and Satoru is already halfway hidden by the wall that separates the main room from the hallway. Suguru can't see him, and that's why those hands are still moving, why he's pleasuring himself in ways that Satoru has only ever dreamed of.

It's been so long since Satoru has had to battle against the inner demons of his mind, but for the first time ever, he doesn't put up a fight.

Satoru clenches the glass in his left hand so hard that it's surprising it doesn't shatter in his fist. His right hand instinctively reaches for his groin and he palms himself through the sweatpants that Suguru let him borrow earlier, the same kind that Suguru is wearing now. And this is dangerous, he shouldn't be doing this at all, but Satoru doesn't stop. He can't help it. He has to watch. His cock aches painfully behind the sweatpants and he applies more pressure to the area, his wide eyes never looking away from the couch. Not even for a second.

“Mm…”

Suguru is making all these little noises now and his breathing has gotten louder, faster, but his hand keeps that same steady pace as he fucks his fist. He's doing the opposite of what Satoru does whenever Satoru jerks off. Suguru takes things slow and teases himself while he gets off, his left hand playing with his nipples beneath the sweater—and oh, how Satoru wishes he could see everything. He wishes he had a front row seat to the best view in the world. He recalls last summer when they went swimming at the beach together, and he discovered that Suguru had done something as wild as having his nipples pierced.

Both nipples.

That same night, when they stayed together in a hotel room right off the ocean, Satoru had come twice while jerking off in the shower to the mental image of those pierced nipples. 

Satoru can't see them right now, but he knows that they're there and Suguru is playing with them, and fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Satoru can't take this anymore.

He shoves his own hand into the sweatpants and grabs his cock like it owes him money. Satoru has never been gentle with himself. He always has to rush things, even when he's fucking his warm hole with his fingers. Satoru has always treated masturbation like a competition to see how hard he can make himself come, how fast he can do it, or how many orgasms he can squeeze out before it starts to hurt and he passes out. But this time, he tries to imitate what Suguru is doing instead.

Satoru strokes his cock at the same pace that Suguru strokes his own, and he tries to imagine how much pressure is being applied, too, so that he can feel everything that Suguru is feeling right now. On the couch, Suguru pauses for a brief moment to push the pants down lower on his hips, allowing his cock to be free of the fabric as it springs back towards his lower belly and yes. Yes, yes, yes. This is perfect. Satoru has visuals now. It's still hard to see any details from this distance, his current angle, and the weird lighting in the room—but he can definitely see the shape of a cock. 

That's more than good enough.

A deep, sexy groan is heard from the couch. Suguru fucks his fist a little bit faster, his hips thrusting up into his palm as he works to get himself off. Satoru mimics the action, his own hips driving forward with less precision and a lot more stuttering. He has to squeeze his legs together to stop from coming suddenly. Satoru doesn't want to come until Suguru comes, and he thinks it just might happen soon.

Satoru wonders what Suguru thinks about while touching himself. Right now, Satoru is imagining himself on the couch and instead of that hard cock fucking a fist, it's fucking Satoru's wet mouth. He's always wanted to give Suguru a blowjob. He wonders what it would feel like, how heavy that big cock would be against his tongue, how it would taste, and if it would ache to have his mouth stretched open to accommodate the girth. Doesn't matter, Satoru knows that he would love it anyway, because he loves Suguru and wants to be used by him.

He wants that so badly he could cry.

It's taking so much effort not to make any noise. Satoru can't even clamp a hand over his mouth because he's still holding the stupid empty glass, so he's biting down hard on his bottom lip and not paying any attention to the pain that it causes him. All that matters is the heat in his belly that tells him he's close, he's so incredibly close and he thinks that Suguru is, too. Suguru is audibly panting and the raunchy sound of his fist roughly pumping his cock now is so fucking good, he's going to come and Satoru will come with him, and—

“Ah… ‘Toru…”

Suguru comes hard onto his fist and lower belly, his back arching up from the couch as he continues stroking himself through it. Behind the wall, Satoru's own orgasm feels like it's been punched out of him, and the only reason that he doesn't blow his cover while blowing his load is because he's way too stunned by what he's just heard. He definitely did hear something being whispered into the air right before Suguru came, and…

It sounded a lot like Satoru's name.

***

Satoru doesn't go back to sleep.

The next morning, he stays in bed until he physically can't anymore, because his bladder threatens to explode and it would make him a bad friend to wet the bed—Suguru's bed. But at one point while Satoru is still lying there in a daze, Suguru comes into the bedroom. Satoru immediately pretends to be asleep. He cracks an eye open and watches as Suguru grabs a change of clothes and then disappears again. Satoru doesn't relax until he hears the shower running.

Did last night really happen?

It all feels like a really vivid dream. After getting off while watching Suguru get off, Satoru knows that he tip-toed back into the bedroom and changed into a clean pair of sweatpants. He remembers tossing the dirty pair into the hamper and hiding it at the very bottom, hoping that Suguru won't randomly decide to inspect his clothes before washing them. Satoru also remembers climbing into bed with his heart still hammering away in his chest and his brain feeling fuzzy, because he jerked off to his best friend jerking off and then he heard Suguru whisper his name.

Right?

Satoru can't be wrong about this. He may be delusional at times but he certainly isn't deaf and he knows that he wasn't drunk enough to imagine the whole thing. Like, that really did happen. So many things happened all at the same time and now Satoru isn't sure what he's supposed to do next.

Emptying his swollen bladder sounds like a good place to start, though. Suguru doesn't come back into the bedroom after his shower, but Satoru can't avoid the guy forever and his belly is starting to ache because he's starving. Once Satoru has cleaned himself up in the bathroom and given his reflection a peptalk, he seeks out the object of his affection.

Suguru is found in the kitchen, his dark hair still a little damp from the shower. He leans against the counter and sips coffee from a Christmas themed mug. He glances up as soon as he hears footsteps enter the space and when their eyes meet, Satoru almost wants to run away. He feels so incredibly shy all of a sudden.

And that's hilarious, given that he's a shameless voyeur with an addiction to masturbating.

“Merry Christmas, ‘Toru,” are the first words to come from Suguru's mouth, the same mouth that Satoru wants so badly to kiss again. He's grinning when he says, “I was wondering how long you planned to stay asleep in there. Anyway, here.”

Satoru continues staring like an idiot while Suguru lifts a second mug from the counter and holds it out for him. His brain lags behind but he eventually takes what's offered to him. This mug is sky blue with little snowmen painted around the sides and it's warm to the touch, very pleasant against his cold fingers. A huge mountain of whipped cream sits on top and Satoru smiles, already knowing what this is.

“Hot cocoa?” he guesses, and the first sip confirms his suspicion. It's incredibly sweet, too. Just how Satoru likes it. “Thanks. I thought you didn't like this kind of stuff, though.”

“I don't,” Suguru agrees. All of a sudden, he so casually reaches up to wipe away a bit of whipped cream from the corner of Satoru's mouth with his thumb. He then licks the residue from his finger, saying, “You do, though.”

To be completely honest, Satoru doesn't know what's worse: the gay-as-hell thing that Suguru just did with his thumb, or the fact that at some point, he bought hot cocoa and stored it in his apartment because he knows that Satoru likes it. He even fixed a cup of it for Satoru to enjoy on Christmas, just like he used to when they were kids, and added a ton of whipped cream because Suguru knows that Satoru loves whipped cream.

This is terrible.

Satoru won't ever recover from this.

He just stands there, dumbstruck, while Suguru goes back to sipping his coffee as if everything is completely normal. Satoru starts to feel a bit dizzy again, and this time it can't be blamed on alcohol.

“It snowed a lot last night,” Suguru says. “Enough for it to really stick to the ground, at least. I was thinking we could go outside and check it out, and then later if you're up for it, how about getting KFC?”

He looks at Satoru with what appears to be a hopeful grin, but in what world would Satoru ever say no to spending time with his most favorite person ever? A world like that just doesn't exist. 

So, Satoru happily nods his head. “Hell yeah. Let's do it.”

***

Satoru has a secret.

Like most things in his life, that secret involves Geto Suguru.

After the incident that occurred on the night of Christmas Eve, Satoru decides to take a new approach with his master plan to get Suguru to fall in love with him. Part of him is beginning to believe that he's already halfway there. You see, Satoru is at least seventy-five percent certain that Suguru moaned his name while masturbating that night. Combined with the fun, lighthearted time that they spent absorbed in each other's presence on Christmas Day, it all starts to add up quite nicely.

Satoru has analyzed every little detail about that night ever since it happened. He comes to the conclusion that Suguru only rejected him because neither of them were completely sober, no matter how much Satoru may have insisted otherwise. It makes total sense when he thinks of it that way. Suguru is a gentleman, after all. He can easily juggle being both a condescending jackass and a gentleman when the moment calls for it, and that's just one of the many things that makes him so sexy.

Therefore, Satoru will consider Christmas Eve a total success, even though they didn't end up having sex. They did get off together, though; a little fun fact that only one of them is aware of. Because of this, Satoru can't just outright admit that he knows Suguru feels similarly about him. No, that would be way too risky.

This is why Satoru takes on a more subtle approach to this cat-and-mouse game between them. He nicknames it “gentle flirting” and comes up with all sorts of ways to put his plan into action. Rather than being so direct with his intense desires, Satoru resorts to being a lot more suggestive. For example, lingering touches, greeting Suguru with hugs, walking around the apartment only wearing boxers and a shirt he's borrowed from Suguru's closet… just little things like that. Things to suggest what Suguru could have a lot more of if they were dating.

Satoru believes that his new plan is working, too. He's taken notice of Suguru's hungry eyes watching him all the time, especially since he's always watching Suguru, too. Satoru likes to keep pushing little by little, just to see how far Suguru will let him go before he finally snaps and bends Satoru over a random surface. He's certain that it'll happen sooner or later. He just has to be patient.

It's Friday night and Satoru's master plan will continue at a fun event that he's been invited to. According to Suguru, there's a live show involving a bunch of new punk bands to kick off the start of the new year. Some of his friends are going since it's a good chance to discover cool artists and meet people with similar tastes, and Suguru wants Satoru to be there, too. He also tells Satoru that it's okay to say no, he knows how Satoru feels about crowds and noisy spaces, but Satoru jumps at the chance to say yes.

This is basically a date, right?

So, he's going to treat it like one.

Satoru steps in front of the full length mirror in his bedroom and admires his appearance. He thinks he's finally decided on the best outfit to match the occasion. He's currently wearing an old band shirt (Suguru's), a vintage black and white flannel (also Suguru's), and a pair of acid wash skinny jeans to show off his long legs. He's deciding to sacrifice one of the shirts from his precious collection, but it'll be worth it in the end. This particular shirt is special, because it's slightly cropped and it's just short enough to display his midriff. 

Of course, no outfit would be complete without his favorite pair of black Prada boots. He'll put them on just before he walks out the door.

While admiring his drop-dead gorgeous reflection, Satoru's phone alerts him of a new text message. He picks it up off his bed and immediately starts cheesing when he sees who it is.

hey princess :)

hey loser <3

so u finally accept the royal title

oh don't worry I haven't
im still planning ur untimely demise

right lol
what are u up to?

just finished getting ready
im about to call for my driver
maybe I'll be there in 20-30min?

such rich boy behavior

well of course
don't u know who i am?

i sure do
anyway don't get a ride
I'll take u there myself

u will???

of course princess

shut the hell up
when will u get here?

well I've been here actually

what?

im outside
ur royal carriage awaits~

Initially stunned by this information, Satoru quickly recovers and rushes out of his bedroom, slamming the door behind himself as he goes. He equips his boots as fast as he can and then he's out the door in record speed.

Sure enough, once Satoru makes it to the entrance of the estate, he's greeted by the image of Suguru leaning back against his motorbike with his hands in his pockets and an easy-going smile on his perfectly handsome face. Tonight, he's wearing black cargo pants styled with silver chains hanging from the side, his favorite leather jacket decorated with pins from all his favorite punk bands, and beneath that is a shirt with English profanities written all over it. He's also styled his hair into an actual bun this time instead of leaving half of it down, and his overgrown bangs reach his chin now.

Just looking at him takes Satoru's breath away. Suguru usually dresses a lot more casually than this, often wearing baggy dark clothes without any of the added accessories. He looks so fucking good, though. He always looks good and Satoru still thinks it's sort of unfair, but at least he can say that he has damn good taste in men.

“You won't be cold in that?” Suguru asks in lieu of a real greeting. His eyes remain glued to the slip of skin that Satoru is decidedly showing off tonight. “Hmm… that's one of my old shirts, isn't it?”

Satoru's grin is a wicked one. “Yup! You gave it to me, so don't even think about asking to take it back.”

He sticks out his tongue just to add an extra bit of spice to his sass. Suguru reacts with a low chuckle that sends shivers up Satoru's spine.

“Chill. I wasn't going to.” Then, Suguru adds as an afterthought, “It looks a lot better on you, anyway.”

Oh. Damn him. 

Satoru rushes to get the last word as always.

“Well, duh. Everything looks better on me,” he brags, though mainly to hide the obvious redness in his cheeks. Hoping to change the subject, he says, “Anyway, how come you never mentioned wanting to pick me up? I would've gotten ready earlier if you had said something.”

Instead of answering him immediately, Suguru grabs the white helmet from behind him and places it on Satoru's head. He takes a moment to adjust it and then he buckles the strap beneath Satoru's chin. Once all of that has been taken care of, he gives Satoru a quick pat on the hip and answers simply:

“That's a secret.”

Evidently, something is extremely different about tonight. Satoru is starting to feel like he's losing at his own game. It's not common for Suguru to be this teasing with him, so it's hard to predict what he's going to say or do next and as nervous as it makes Satoru feel, it also fills him with pure excitement.

“Let's go,” Suguru says while climbing onto the bike.

This time, Satoru eagerly obeys and hops on right behind him.

The small venue is a lot more crowded than Satoru expects it to be. There's an immediate change in the atmosphere from the moment that they enter through the old metal doors and it's so much warmer inside than it is outside. Satoru starts to sweat. There are people in every direction that he turns his head, most of whom dress quite similarly to Suguru; leather jackets, studded belts and combat boots, spiky hairstyles that reach up towards the ceiling. Even though the crowd is overwhelming, it's still so exciting to see so many people gathered for their shared love of something really cool.

Suguru keeps a firm hand pressed to Satoru's lower back as they're ushered inside by venue staff members. They don't have to wander for very long, two familiar faces emerging from the crowd as soon as they've made it inside.

Looks like tonight is all about dressing your best and wearing lots of leather. Both Yuki and Shoko wear fitted mini skirts and cropped leather jackets paired with black fishnets and platform heels, making both of them much taller than they actually are. They must have decided to coordinate their outfits for the night, a blonde version and a brunette version standing side by side. They actually look pretty badass. Satoru will have to coordinate matching outfits with Suguru someday.

“Damn, Satoru!” Yuki exclaims, still excitedly waving her hand as they approach. Her wide eyes take him in from head to toe. “Showing a bit of skin tonight, huh? That's hot.”

Satoru reacts to the bold compliments with a pleased grin. He knows that he looks good and there's no reason to be shy about it. He's tall and slender with pretty features, both sharp and delicate at the same time. He's been praised for his uniqueness since he was a little boy, but he's only felt truly confident since going through puberty and shooting up like a palm tree. 

“He looks good, doesn't he?” Suguru agrees beside him.

Yes, Satoru knows that he looks good, but hearing it from Suguru is a whole different story. There's still no reason to be shy about it, but that's exactly how he feels right now—especially since he can still feel the comforting warmth of Suguru's hand at his back. He hasn't let go of Satoru since their arrival, like he's instinctively trying to protect him from anything or anyone who might bother him. It's a bit excessive and totally unnecessary, but Satoru wouldn't ever say that out loud.

He likes Suguru's hand at the small of his back and he wants to keep it this way.

“You know what you have to do next, right?” Shoko asks, and the question is directed at Satoru as she wiggles her brows at him, teasing.

Curious, Satoru asks, “What?”

“Belly button piercing,” she concludes.

Since that isn't something that Satoru has ever considered, he thinks about it for a moment and glances down at his exposed navel. Currently, he doesn't have any piercings. He's thought about it many times before, especially since Suguru has so many along both ears and on his face and Satoru likes copying him every now and then. He still thinks he would like to get lobe piercings someday, but now that Shoko has inserted this brand new idea into his brain, he wonders which piercing he would prefer to get first.

“Maybe,” Satoru answers for now. He'll definitely have to revisit this idea in the future.

“Don't give him any bright ideas,” Suguru interrupts. He turns his head to look at Satoru even as his words are meant for Shoko, and the look in his eyes is quite teasing. “You know how impulsive he is, he might try to pierce himself at home tomorrow.”

Satoru rolls his eyes at the teasing. “As if! You're the one with all the holes in your face. Starting to think you've got some kind of weird pain kink.”

In response to that, Suguru laughs outright and teases back, “Have I been caught?”

“Stop. Stop right now or I'll vomit,” Shoko warns them.

Oops. Satoru nearly forgot that they weren't alone. He blushes, a little embarrassed, while Yuki cracks up and Suguru's thumb caresses his back. He was right before. Something really is different about tonight.

“We’re gonna find a spot before the show starts,” Suguru announces suddenly. He addresses the girls when he asks, “Where will you two be?”

“Drinks!” Yuki answers, pointing to the bar not far from where they're standing. “At least have a few shots with us before you head off.”

Suguru sadly shakes his head. “Can't. Drove here tonight on the bike.”

“Booo!” She reacts with a thumbs-down. Despite the disappointment, she recovers in an instant and says, “Well, Choso's band won't be playing ‘til near the middle of the show, so we'll probably hang back until then.”

Satoru reacts with a gasp. “Choso's band is playing tonight?”

“Yeah, and they're really fucking good,” Shoko says.

“So good!” Yuki agrees.

After parting ways, Suguru guides him down a set of stairs that leads to a wide open space—well, at one point it must've been open. Currently, it's filled to the brim with people and just looking at all the bodies around him kick-starts Satoru's anxiety. 

“Let's head to the front,” Suguru tells him, and it's so noisy now that he has to lean closer to speak into Satoru's ear. It tickles so bad that Satoru trembles before he can stop himself.

“The front?” he repeats back, hoping that Suguru hadn't noticed his dramatic reaction.

Suguru nods. “We won't be able to see much from all the way back here. I mean, maybe you could, but it's not as fun. Being in the middle of the crowd is obviously not a good idea and I don't want you near the mosh pit, so the very front would be our best bet.”

All of that makes sense now that Suguru explains it to him. Satoru is also relieved that Suguru cares so much about keeping him safe, happy, and comfortable. It makes the fuzzy feeling reappear in his chest. He can only hope that someday he'll be able to take good care of Suguru the same way that Suguru takes good care of him.

“Okay, let's find a way to the front, then,” Satoru says, agreeing with his plan.

Unfortunately, the only route to the front of the crowd is by going through the crowd itself. Satoru gulps, nervous, but he feels much calmer when Suguru takes him by the hand and leads him through the mass of people. As long as Satoru doesn't let go of that strong hand, he knows that he'll be okay. Suguru would never let anything bad happen to him, after all. 

They eventually make it to the front with no trouble at all and Satoru feels like he can finally breathe again. Black rails separate the crowd from the foundation of the stage, and Suguru instructs him to stand right up against that rail. Afterwards, Suguru positions himself directly behind Satoru. He stands so closely that Satoru's back is pressed against his chest, and he places his hands on either side of the railing, essentially forming a cage around Satoru's body and separating him from the rest of the crowd. Once Satoru realizes that the only person touching him on all sides is Suguru, all the stress and worry instantly melts from his body.

It's relaxing to feel Suguru pressed against him like this. Satoru might even go so far as to say that it's one of the greatest feelings in the world.

“Is this okay?”

Once again, Suguru voices the question directly into Satoru's ear, his lips so close to the outer shell that Satoru can almost feel the words as they enter his body. He nods his head at the question because he knows that if he uses his voice right now, he'll probably sound too turned-on. No, he has to stay focused. He can allow the horny thoughts to enter his mind later on when he gets back home. For now, he just wants to enjoy good music and the comforting presence of his best friend.

The show finally begins not even five minutes later. It seems like the crowd closes in on them as the first group of performers take the stage, but Satoru still only feels Suguru against him and no one else. He's so lucky. He'd never be able to withstand a crowd like this if Suguru weren't here. Big crowds and tight spaces have always been Satoru's main weaknesses in life.

“This band is really good,” Suguru tells him, his soft lips brushing the shell of Satoru's ear as he speaks. “I've seen them a few times already. They're from Okinawa. They'll probably be scouted by a record label in the next year or so.”

Since Satoru doesn't know a whole lot about punk bands or alternative music in general, he likes it whenever Suguru shares little fun facts with him. It's like he's making sure that Satoru never feels left out or confused by things he won't understand, since Satoru never comes to these shows and Suguru is his primary source of information. It's so cute when he rambles. Sometimes Satoru will ask silly questions just to hear Suguru talk some more.

He asks, “Which one is the bassist?”

“The one on the left. I think he's their newest member.”

“Ah, okay. He's hot.”

Behind him, Suguru snorts, clearly not expecting the little comment. Good. Satoru may be completely whipped for the guy, but he still likes to keep Suguru on his toes. 

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“What's so hot about him, then?”

Yikes. Sounds like Satoru may have struck a nerve.

Good.

“Well, he's built nicely and he has long hair,” Satoru explains. He's mostly just making shit up as he goes, but he can't help himself. Jealousy is oddly sexy on Suguru. He repeats, “Yeah, it's the long hair for sure. Long hair is sexy.”

“Mm… I see, I see.”

Suguru has to pick up on what Satoru is implying with that comment. There's no way that he wouldn't pick up on such an obvious hint. Suguru doesn't say anything else on the subject, but his feelings are clear when he hooks his chin over Satoru's shoulder and literally clings to him for the entire duration of the band's performance. 

In all honesty, Satoru doesn't even pay attention to the music and he feels a bit bad about that since Suguru had said they were so good, but Suguru is the one who keeps him distracted the whole time. So, Satoru stands there in a blissful daze with Suguru pressed up against him and clinging like a child feeling possessive over his favorite toy.

The rest of the performances pass by in a blur of high energy and very catchy tunes. Satoru now understands why Suguru loves coming to punk shows so much. With the exception of the overwhelming crowd and the almost unbearable heat in the room, the experience itself is unlike anything else. Punk music is fun, badass, and quite liberating, too. He's sure that later on Suguru will give him another history lesson on the lifestyle, and he's also sure that he won't mind it.

When Choso's band finally appears on the stage, Satoru is filled with even more excitement and energy. Suguru tells him that all of its members are brothers and that Choso is the eldest, a fact that Satoru had no clue about because he doesn't talk to the guy. He always seems to have a flat affect and Satoru has never even seen him smile before, but all of those thoughts are thrown out the window when the performance begins. On stage, Choso is like a totally different person, his energy abundant and his singing voice one of the best that Satoru has heard all night so far.

It's enchanting.

As soon as the brothers’ performance is over, Suguru suggests that they take a break by going outside for some fresh air. Satoru readily agrees, and he notices for the first time that he feels slightly lightheaded and dizzy. Fresh oxygen heals his brain the second that they step out into the chilly night air. Suguru sends a text message to the girls, who join them outside just a couple minutes later. 

Satoru rambles excitedly about the show and how he's never seen anything like this, while Shoko listens and enjoys a cigarette. Suguru disappears briefly to buy them some water bottles. Yuki waits impatiently near a side door of the building, and when it finally comes open, she practically jumps into the arms of the person who appears in front of her.

Oh.

Yuki and Choso are kissing now. Like, full-on kissing. 

Suguru returns with the water bottles. Satoru takes the one offered to him and leans forward to whisper, “So… those two are a thing now?”

They must be, given how they're literally making out in front of their friends as if no one else exists. Suguru takes a quick peek at the scene behind them before focusing on Satoru again, a lighthearted laugh erupting from his chest.

“Oh, yeah. That happened. They apparently spent Christmas Day and New Years together, so now they're officially a thing.”

“Wow,” Satoru comments, genuinely surprised that it happened so soon but he's glad for her. Yuki has always been so sweet to him. Satoru playfully elbows Suguru in the ribcage, whispering, “Thanks for failing to keep me updated on all the juicy gossip.”

Suguru reacts with another laugh. “Sorry, sorry.”

“Well, this was fun, but I'm heading out soon,” Shoko suddenly announces. She tosses the cigarette bud onto the ground and crushes it with her platform heel.

Satoru frowns, disappointed. “Already?”

“My shift starts at eight in the morning.”

“Yikes.” Suguru shakes his head in pity and then offers his condolences.

“What are you two planning to do?” she asks. “There's supposed to be an after-party for all of the bands and whoever they choose to invite along. I know Choso and Yuki were planning on going to that.”

Satoru gasps, suddenly filled with excitement again. He was completely unaware of this detail. Part of him wants to go, he's never been to an after-party before and it would be nice to meet the members of some of the bands that he watched tonight. Who knows, it could be a lot of fun.

“Nah,” Suguru answers instead. “I'm gonna take this one home pretty soon.”

As he utters that last statement, he places an affectionate hand on Satoru's head and messes up his hair. Satoru instantly feels insulted, because why the hell did Suguru have to say it like that? Satoru isn't a child and he's definitely not anyone else's responsibility.

“Hell no, I'm not going home,” Satoru argues, swatting Suguru's pesky hand from his head and glaring at the jerk. “The show isn't even over yet! Can't you hear the music? We should at least stay long enough to listen to the rest of the bands. You want to, right? Right?”

He's definitely aware that it sounds like he's begging right now, but none of that matters at the moment. Satoru will do whatever it takes not to be dragged home just yet. He's not even tired and there's still so much that he hasn't seen.

Suguru takes a moment to think about it, but with those big pretty eyes staring at him the entire time, how can he possibly say no? He can't, and that's exactly why Satoru uses his own pretty features to his advantage. He's been doing this for years, he's practically an expert of manipulation.

“Fine,” Suguru ultimately decides. He gives in with a fond smile and says, “Just until the end of the last song.”

***

As promised, they do exactly that. Seeing the other bands’ performances is definitely worth it and by the time that it's all over with, Satoru is much more satisfied than he had been earlier. Punk shows are fun as hell and he wants to tag along again next time for sure.

Once the crowd starts to disperse, Suguru pulls him to the side so that they won't get caught up in the sea of people pushing through to the exit. The two of them stand near a wall and Satoru is still so grateful to have Suguru with him. He nearly forgot that they'd have to find their way out of the venue amongst all of these people doing the same thing, and he never thought to simply wait behind to avoid the mass. It's a damn good thing that Suguru is so smart.

While they're waiting for more space to open up, Suguru turns to him and asks, “Did you have fun?”

“Fuck yeah,” Satoru exclaims, still feeling so energetic after everything he's seen tonight. “Matter of fact, you have to take me with you to the next one, too. I demand it.”

Suguru laughs while nodding his head. “Good, that's what I like to hear. So, you need anything before we leave?”

Satoru almost says no, but then his body reminds him that he's just been standing for hours, his feet ache a little and he hasn't taken care of his basic needs. It'll be best to take care of those things now before he has to sit at the back of the motorbike for nearly half an hour.

“Yeah, I'll just use the restroom first,” Satoru announces.

Suguru nods again. “And you know where it is?”

“Mhmm. I saw the line for it earlier. What about you?”

“I'm fine. I was gonna get us some more water, actually.”

“Good idea,” Satoru agrees, and then he changes his mind and says, “Get me a can of soda. A fruit flavored one, if they have it.”

Suguru snorts. “Fine, fine. I'll probably be done before you are, so I'll meet you near the restrooms.”

“Okay.”

For now, they go their separate ways. Satoru locates the small line to the men's restroom and joins the people awaiting their turn. It shouldn't take more than a few minutes and he's glad for that. Now that he isn't so distracted by the music, the exhaustion is slowly creeping in to replace the excess energy from before. He'll be glad to be off his feet and clinging to Suguru's back on the motorbike soon, and hopefully he'll be able to stay awake and alert until it's time for his head to hit the pillow.

“Well, look who it is! Suguru's precious baby brother!”

Suddenly, there's an arm around Satoru's shoulders and a body leaning heavily against his back out of nowhere, startling him. A familiar face appears next to his own before Satoru can turn to see the intruder, but he recognizes that annoying voice more than he wishes to, so he's fully aware of who clings to him.

Mahito wears an incredibly annoying grin, just as always. It's obvious from the tone he uses that he's just trying to provoke Satoru and get a reaction out of him, but Satoru doesn't give a damn. He's never been a pushover and he's certainly not mature enough to let a comment like that slide, especially since there's nothing he hates more.

“Call me that again and I'll cut your throat open,” Satoru warns him. 

He then shrugs Mahito's arm from around his shoulders and tries to ignore the icky feeling from being touched without permission in the first place. When Satoru spins around to face him head-on, he realizes that Mahito isn't alone. Another man stands behind him, leaning nonchalantly against the wall with a bored expression on his face. He looks downright intimidating, though; strange lines of a tattoo spanning across his cheeks, the bridge of his nose, and the center of his forehead. Satoru has never seen anyone with face tattoos before. When their eyes meet for just a split second, Satoru instinctively looks away first.

“So hostile! And for no reason, too,” Mahito replies. He lets out a long sigh, pretending that his feelings are hurt. “I was just being nice by saying hi. Where's Suguru? He's around here somewhere, right?”

Satoru folds his arms over his chest and spins back around, facing the other way. Maybe if he doesn't show any interest in the conversation, he'll be left alone. He glances at the restroom doors ahead and hopes the line will move faster.

“He is.”

“Wow, what a jerk. He never told me he was coming to this.”

Satoru doesn't give any response to that. He can't believe what poor luck he's had at the end of such a perfect night. Of all the people in the world, he just had to run into the worst one possible. Maybe this is some form of karma or a test from the gods. At the same time, he supposes that seeing Mahito at one of these events is far from impossible. He's an active member in the punk scene and probably attends shows all the time, so it's not surprising that he attended this one, too.

Just when Satoru thinks that he's finally been left alone, that same annoying voice suddenly whispers against his ear:

“Have you sucked him off yet?”

Satoru jumps away and covers his offended ear with a hand, scowling at Mahito as the bastard begins cracking up.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Satoru grumbles, beyond annoyed right now. Maybe he should punch this guy in the face, that would make him feel better. Only problem is that he knows nothing about the guy with Mahito, and doesn't know if he would jump in to defend his terrible friend.

Two against one probably wouldn't turn out well.

“I'll take that as a no.” Mahito shakes his head in pity, then he addresses the man standing behind him. “This kid has been chasing dick for years, apparently, but Suguru just won't give it up. I'm actually quite sad for him. I think it only took me, like, two months in comparison.”

The other guy reacts with a snort, his mouth curving into a mischievous grin when he replies, “You braggin’ about that as if you wouldn't fuck anything that moves?”

“I wouldn't!” Mahito insists. “I have tastes.”

Satoru stares at them both, eyes wide and confused. He rewinds the dialogue in his head. It doesn't make any sense. Mahito doesn't make any sense.

“What do you mean?” Satoru interrupts their banter to ask. Something in his mind tells him to leave it alone, just ignore them, but he can't. He asks, “Two months?”

“Maybe it was actually less than two months? I don't remember.” Mahito shrugs, then says, “He let me suck his dick once. It was pretty fun. But he's so boring these days, always so uptight and self-righteous. His loss, though. I happen to be a damn good cocksucker.”

As soon as that last word leaves his lips, a fist suddenly collides with the back of Mahito's head, smacking him none too gently. He reacts to the assault with a pained hiss and immediately rubs the offended area with his hand, then he turns to glare at his “friend” who doesn't react at all.

The guy simply says, “I don't wanna hear all that gay shit, dude.”

“You don't gotta hit me for it, though!” Mahito loudly complains. He checks his hand to see if there's any blood, then goes back to rubbing his injured scalp. “That's totally homophobic, Sukuna. Besides, don't you always talk about fucking women? Ugh. The double standards.”

Satoru is being ignored again like he isn't even there. But his thoughts are running marathons in his brain and he can hardly keep up with it all. Suguru hooked up with Mahito? Mahito, of all people? No, that's not right. It can't be right. Why would Suguru do that? With Mahito? That's false. Impossible. Suguru wouldn't do that with Mahito. Suguru doesn't even like Mahito, not as a friend and not even as a person. He said so himself, once.

Mahito is a dirty liar, then.

“You're lying,” Satoru tells him, now that he's finally able to speak again. His mind is still going in circles and his heart beats so fast that it feels like he might get sick, but he still repeats, “You're lying… about that. Suguru wouldn't do that.”

“Hm? I'm not lying, though,” Mahito insists. Then, a wicked grin takes over his face and even before he speaks, Satoru knows that he won't like whatever this jerk is about to say. “You can literally ask him. Or if you want, I can describe to you exactly what his dick looks like, since you've unfortunately never seen it.”

Satoru growls, “Fuck you, Mahito.”

“Oh, speak of the devil.”

He's no longer looking at Satoru anymore, his eyes focused on something else entirely. Or rather, someone else. Satoru turns his head to see Suguru approaching with a water bottle in one hand and a can of Ramune in the other. He smiles when they make eye contact, but the happiness on his face gradually fades into concern when he notices who stands nearby.

“Hi, Suguru!” Mahito waves at him, feigning innocence with a friendly smile. As usual, he ruins things further when he speaks again, saying, “Look, we found your lost pet.”

Satoru can't deal with this right now. His fight or flight instinct kicks in even as Suguru frowns and tells Mahito to stop being a cunt. For the first time, Satoru chooses flight instead of fight. He just can't do this right now, so he walks off without a word. He doesn't care about his bladder anymore. It's not that important and he no longer feels anything except for the desperate need to get out of there.

The last thing that he hears is Suguru calling out to him. Satoru keeps walking. He's not even sure where he's going or what he should do once he gets outside, he just knows that being outside in the crisp night air is a lot better than the overcrowded and humid venue. The only issue is that it's so much colder than earlier, and Satoru chose to wear a flannel instead of a real jacket and showing off his bare midriff is already backfiring against him.

That same voice calls out to him. Satoru can't tell where it's coming from, people are still leaving the venue and passing by him in all directions. He's probably lost now. It feels like he's lost. He doesn't remember where the motorbike is parked and he has to wait for Suguru or else he won't be able to get back home. Where is he, though?

Everything is so confusing.

A warm hand suddenly curls around Satoru's wrist. He instantly twists around, and for some reason, he fully expects it to be Mahito and Satoru mentally prepares himself to commit murder, but then he pauses. It's Suguru who grabs him this time. He's still clutching the drinks in his other hand. For some reason, he looks upset.

“Why did you run off like that?” Suguru asks. He keeps a firm grip on Satoru's wrist as if afraid that he'll escape again if Suguru loosens his hold. Then, anger flashes in his eyes and he asks, “What did… what did Mahito say to you?”

Satoru finds it incredibly difficult to speak right away, so he only stands there, still feeling so lost. He allows Suguru to tug him away from the flow of foot traffic until it's just the two of them standing around at the side of the venue. He thinks about Mahito's words again. Maybe he really should ask about it, just to put his mind at ease. There's just no way that it's true.

Right?

“Is it… true?”

“Is what true?”

“That…” Satoru pauses to take a deep breath. “That you hooked up with Mahito?”

He stares right into Suguru’s eyes as he asks the question, craving his immediate reassurance that everything Mahito said had been false. A stupid lie. A way to rile Satoru up, because apparently, everyone in the entire world seems to know about Satoru's big stupid crush on Geto Suguru. Yet, when those amber eyes that Satoru trusts so much instantly look away from him, his heart breaks into a million pieces in his chest.

“So it's true, then…”

“That fucking bastard,” Suguru mumbles angrily, mainly to himself. He exhales a loud sigh afterwards and he finally looks at Satoru again. “Satoru, listen. It was only once and that was ages ago.”

“And?”

“And I was really drunk. Both of us were. He offered and I guess I just… let him. I barely remember it. But we've never been involved with each other since then.”

“Oh.” Too shocked and embarrassed to learn the truth that he so adamantly believed to be false, Satoru stares down at the ground instead. He feels so stupid now. He feels angry, too, even as part of himself tells him that he isn't allowed to be. Suguru is his own person. He can do what he wants. Satoru hates that, though. “You told me that Mahito wasn't even your friend.”

“He isn't,” Suguru insists again.

“Then, how can you do something like that with Mahito, but you won't let…” Satoru pauses. He can't say it. He can't. He lifts his head and makes himself say it, anyway. “How come you won't do it with me?”

“What?” Suguru merely blinks at him. “What are you talking about?”

He can't be that simple-minded, right? There's just no way. If the rest of the world seems to know about Satoru's useless crush that he's had since childhood, then surely Suguru has to know about it, too. He has to know something, for fuck's sake. When Satoru was seven years old, he even loudly demanded that Suguru marry him. At the time, Suguru had laughed and teased him about it, saying that he would only if Satoru grew to be as tall as him someday. There's just no use pretending that Satoru's affection—his borderline obsession with Suguru—has only ever been platonic.

Satoru grits his teeth together, says, “You know what I'm talking about. Don't even try to pretend that you don't know how I feel.”

He watches and waits for Suguru's reaction, an intensity in his own eyes and his heart that can no longer be contained. Satoru has kept too many secrets for far too long and he's tired of it. He doesn't want to be afraid anymore. He doesn't want to keep playing all of these mind games, either. He's been so patient all this time and now he's tired. 

He just wants to be honest for once.

Eventually, Suguru sighs. “‘Toru—”

Satoru lurches forward and kisses him on the mouth. Both the water bottle and the can of soda drop to the ground at their feet. He presses his lips firmly against Suguru's and clings to the front of his leather jacket, pleading with his hands and his mouth and his heart for Suguru to listen to him. A moment passes, and then Satoru leans back enough to plead with his eyes as well.

“Choose me.”

Suguru stares back at him, stunned. Satoru presses another kiss to his lips, this one light and quick. He does it twice more. Suddenly, it feels like he's out of control and he can't stop, his desperation to be heard—to be seen—taking over his body, possessing him.

“Choose me, Suguru… you said that you would, remember? You said that… you'd choose me over Mahito, so… choose me.”

Satoru knows that Suguru isn't kissing him back, but he can't stop his starved mouth from moving. He places desperate little kisses all over Suguru's face; his cheeks, his nose, his chin, his jawline, even his forehead. Suguru doesn't kiss him back, but he doesn't stop Satoru from eagerly showering him in affection, either. If Suguru didn't like it, wouldn't he have pushed Satoru away by now? Wouldn't he have gotten angry? He hasn't, though. This means that he likes it, right?

“Satoru,” Suguru breathes the name through his lips, just barely above a whisper. His breathing has become harsh and it seems like he finally wants to say something. “Can you just…”

Satoru interrupts him with another kiss to the lips. If it isn't a love confession, then he would prefer not to hear it at all. All that he wants right now is to feel Suguru against his lips. Everything else can wait.

Or, so he thought.

Without warning, Satoru stumbles back a step as two hands firmly push him away. He stares back into Suguru's wide eyes, his heart instantly filling with the pain of rejection.

“Stop.”

“Oh…”

It turns out that Satoru is wrong again.

Suguru exhales another long sigh and he takes a moment to gather himself, the fingers of one hand rubbing against his forehead as he thinks of what to say. Satoru doesn't say anything as the awkward silence between them stretches on endlessly. He's already said and done more than enough, clearly, and it still makes no difference. Suguru isn't going to choose him.

“You know that's not what I meant… when I said that.”

“Oh,” Satoru repeats. “Wow, yeah. Okay.” 

For some reason, he laughs, feeling sort of deranged and a whole lot stupid for everything that he's wasted his time doing up until this point. Even if he kept up with the gentle flirting forever, none of it was ever going to matter because Suguru won't choose him. Satoru isn't worth choosing. He's foolish for ever thinking otherwise.

"But Satoru, I wasn't—wait. Where are you going?”

Since he's finally received his answer to that years-long question hanging between them, Satoru turns away and begins walking in the opposite direction. 

He answers without looking back, “Home.”

Satoru has only taken a few more steps when he's forcibly stopped in his tracks, that warm hand tightly clinging to his wrist again.

"Hey, no, come back here. Don't walk away from me when I'm trying to talk to you.”

For some reason, that really pisses Satoru off. He immediately snatches his wrist away with so much force that he feels his bones pop, but he ignores it in favor of scowling at Suguru as hot, frustrated tears build up in his eyes without his permission. No, he refuses to cry about this. He won't.

“Fuck off,” Satoru snaps. His hands curl into fists, his nostrils flare from anger and hurt, and he just wants to go home to be left alone. Just like he always is. Alone. “Don't follow me. I'll… I'll hate you if you do.”

Suguru stares back at him as if Satoru has lost his mind and maybe he has, in a way, but who cares? Satoru is deciding not to care anymore. Caring takes too much effort and only causes heartache.

At a loss for words, Suguru just replies, “Seriously?”

Satoru spins around and starts walking again. He doesn't look back as he heads into a random direction. After a couple minutes of angry marching, he ignores the sharp pains in his chest when he realizes that Suguru really isn't following him.

***

Satoru doesn't make it to the train station.

He's halfway there when he reaches an epiphany. This whole time he's been chasing after Suguru, wanting to grow up faster so that he could be with Suguru, yearning for Suguru and fantasizing about him basically all of the time, but when has Suguru ever done the same? Why isn't he the one chasing after Satoru? If he wanted to, he could. Satoru would have said yes to him ages ago. He never would've put Suguru through so much heartache and confusion. Never.

And okay, so maybe Satoru can agree that he overreacted a little and basically caused tonight's drama, but he wouldn't have cared so much if it hadn't been Mahito. It could've been anyone else but him. That guy has been bullying Satoru and pushing his buttons from the very moment that they met. Satoru has never liked him and he still can't believe that someone like that can have the privilege of touching Suguru, tasting him, but Satoru can't.

It's unacceptable. 

Satoru shouldn't have to beg and plead for Suguru to love him back. He should just do it. Suguru won't do it because he clearly has horrific tastes in men, as proven by what went down tonight. If he wants to mess around with shitty people like that guy, then screw it. Suguru can do whatever he wants to whoever he wants.

It doesn't change the fact that Satoru is a fucking catch. He may be worthless to Suguru, but again, that's only because Suguru has poor standards. In reality, Satoru can probably seduce plenty of men if he wanted to. He's just never tried before because he's been wasting all of his time and potential on a certain someone. Maybe what Satoru needs is to change his state of mind and look beyond the horizon, or whatever the fuck. Maybe he needs to liberate himself from his pointless childhood crush and realize that there are plenty of other fishes in the sea, waiting for him.

Satoru will become a shark, then.

hey yuki
are u still at the party?

YED
yes* lol
ur coming????

hell yeah
where is it?

kk wiat a sec
I'll s end the location

It only takes twenty minutes for Satoru to arrive at the hotel. This is probably the most spontaneous that he's ever been. He doesn't quite have a plan in mind as he marches down the long hallway on the top floor of the hotel, and when he finds the suite that Yuki had mentioned in her text, he knocks loudly on the door until some big guy with shaved eyebrows opens it. He takes one long look at Satoru, eyes scanning him up and down, and then he steps to the side and gestures for him to enter.

The first thing Satoru notices is that it's loud. Extremely loud. He could barely hear the sound of the music from within the hallway, but after entering the suite, it feels like he's back in the venue, listening to the loud guitar riffs and the crowd of people around him. At least the crowd isn't as crazy here. Random people can be found all around the room, some leaning against walls, others piled up in groups on the fancy sofas, and some people even sit on the floor, laughing and chatting and sharing cigarettes and beer.

Satoru only takes a few steps into the room before someone suddenly grabs him by the collar of his flannel and pulls him into their side.

“You made it!” Yuki exclaims. She roughly pats his shoulder—it kind of hurts—and then the lazy, drunken grin on her face shifts into confusion. “Are you by yourself? Where's Suguru? I thought you were together.”

Ugh. Satoru doesn't want to talk about that guy right now. He flashes her a false smile of his own and shrugs in response to the question.

“He was too tired.” Satoru seeks to change the subject when he addresses the man standing behind her. “Also, Choso—your band is so fucking badass! I never knew you guys were that good. I'm seriously impressed.”

For the first time ever since meeting the guy, Choso actually smiles. Satoru also never knew that he had such an ability.

“Thank you,” is all that he says.

“Did Suguru drop you off, then?” Yuki asks next, because she's still stuck on that for whatever reason.

Satoru merely shakes his head. “I walked here. Anyway, I'm gonna have a look around. See ya.”

His excuse to escape that conversation is a poor one, but Satoru couldn't think of anything else to say. He just knows that he doesn't feel like talking about Suguru or answering questions about Suguru. 

Suguru, Suguru, Suguru.

Everything in Satoru's life revolves around him. Well, he's going to change that tonight. Instead of allowing himself to be plagued by thoughts of Suguru, Satoru grabs a random can of unopened beer that he finds on a table and tosses his head back to chug it. A few people nearby cheer him on and Satoru pays them no mind. He decides that he can't think about Suguru if he's shitfaced drunk, so his new plan involves drinking as much as possible.

“As much as possible” only equals out to about three drinks before Satoru feels like the world is spinning around him, but hey, who's counting? All that matters is that he's drunk, happy, and definitely not thinking about Suguru. No, not at all. Instead, he thinks about the Christmas Eve party and the taste of sweet wine on his lips, the comfort of sitting on someone else's lap, his head resting against that person's shoulder. He remembers feeling overwhelmed at the time, but he also felt safe, too.

Right now, leaning back against the wall in the noisy hotel suite, Satoru just feels overwhelmed. He can be happy and overwhelmed at the same time, right? Right. Besides, for the past fifteen minutes or so, he's taken notice of someone watching him from across the room. They're not even being subtle about their staring problem, either. Satoru stares back into a pair of small dark blue irises, but not once do they look away from him.

Satoru's interest is piqued.

Mr. Staring Problem is older than him. That much is obvious. He isn't old, but definitely older and his shaggy black hair kind of gives him a boyish look. He's much bigger than Satoru as well. Like, his muscles probably also have muscles. They're perfectly visible behind the thin fabric of his tight shirt that looks like it might rip open if he flexes. But what looks even tighter are the leather jeans that hug his big thighs, and Satoru isn't trying to be obvious when his gaze shifts down to the man's groin, but he's extremely obvious and the man smirks, taking notice of where those eyes have landed.

Looks like it's time to be the shark.

Satoru pushes away from the wall. His long, wobbly legs keep him mostly upright as he crosses to the other side of the room and somehow manages not to bump into anyone along the way. He doesn't stop until he's face-to-face with Mr. Staring Problem, who still wears the smirk and doesn't bother introducing himself first. He watches Satoru as if his very existence is amusing. They haven't even spoken yet, and Satoru is already beginning to feel more like a little baby fish instead.

“What's your name?” Satoru asks—or rather, demands to know.

His demanding tone seems to take the guy by surprise, his dark brows rising higher on his forward. He never stops smiling, though.

Instead of answering the question, the guy asks, “Does it matter, pretty boy?”

Oh. Even his voice is domineering, almost as much as his presence. The urge to be sassy—because Satoru asked a genuine question and it's rude to ignore that—dies down once that guy swipes his tongue over his lips. He looks at Satoru as if he were a thing to be consumed rather than a person. It's easy to see that he's already undressing Satoru with his eyes and despite how weird it makes Satoru feel, he tells himself that he wants this.

He still needs to liberate himself, after all.

“It matters to me,” Satoru replies. He tries to keep that same arrogance in his tone, not wanting to seem as nervous as he feels. He forces himself to say, “You can call me Go— I mean, Satoru. Just Satoru is fine.”

He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, his cheeks burning red to match the burn of arousal building up in his gut. From the way those dark eyes continue to drink him in, Satoru half expects another teasing reply, so it surprises him when the man simply answers:

“Toji.”

Finally. They're finally getting somewhere and now Satoru can put a name to the face before him. With this name, he can forget about the other name that haunts the back of his inebriated mind. With this name, he can pretend that he's never known anything else.

“Do you like boys, Toji?”

He assumes his bluntness to be the reason that Toji starts cackling, oh-so amused by Satoru's very serious attempt at flirting. He just wants to get straight to the point, that's all. Satoru is tired of playing silly little games that get him nowhere. So, he has to be direct.

Toji doesn't make it easy for him, though.

“Why?” he asks, “Do you like boys, Satoru?”

“I like men,” Satoru replies half a second later, and then, “I like you.”

The amused smile on Toji’s face widens. Satoru watches closely as that tongue swipes over those lips again, while a tiny voice somewhere deep within his hazy mind tells him to quit playing around and go home before he gets eaten. Satoru doesn't listen to it. He's already come this far, so he may as well finish what he's started.

Toji takes a single step towards him, pressing close so that they're chest-to-chest and Satoru flinches on contact. He nearly recoils altogether, his instincts almost taking over before he regains his courage and forces himself not to back down. He can't show weakness.

“Oh, yeah?” Toji presses even closer and Satoru squeezes his eyes shut, thinking that he's going to be kissed; but then a voice whispers into his ear, breath hot against his skin: “Prove it.”

When Satoru's back hits the bathroom wall, it hurts and he's about to voice his complaints when a hungry mouth stops him from doing so. A hot tongue is shoved into his mouth. A knee is shoved in between his legs and a clothed groin grinds against his own. Everything is happening so fast and all that Satoru can do is take it.

That's not fair. Satoru is the one who approached him first, but Toji has taken control over the situation. He's going too fast and being too rough and Satoru doesn't like it. Since his mouth is still completely full, Satoru uses a hand to grab a fistful of hair at the back of Toji’s head. 

He yanks. Hard.

Toji reacts with a low grunt, and although he doesn't pull away completely, he stops trying to suck all the air out of Satoru's lungs and looks into his eyes instead.

“What, brat?” he asks, and ah. That word. There's nothing teasing or endearing about it when that voice says it. He just sounds annoyed. “Don't tell me you've changed your mind already.”

Satoru tries his best not to let those eyes intimidate him. He takes a moment to clear his throat and gather his courage again, but his voice still shakes slightly as he speaks.

“You're… doing too much,” Satoru explains, but even he doesn't know what that's supposed to mean. He blurts out another idea for now. “Let me suck your dick.”

The vague irritation on Toji’s face instantly shifts into something much more playful again, his arousal apparent in his dark eyes. He obviously likes the idea. Without wasting any time, he leans back so that he's no longer holding Satoru hostage against the wall. Now, he places one of his big hands on top of Satoru's head, his fingers curling into the white strands and tightening until it begins to hurt. He doesn't speak, just uses that hand to push Satoru down until the younger boy kneels before him. Satoru's knees immediately begin to ache as they dig into the cold, hard tile of the bathroom floor.

“Do it, then,” Toji says.

Satoru's hands are shaking as he reaches for the button and zipper of the tight leather pants. He tells himself that he's just nervous because he hasn't done this before, that's all. Everyone gets nervous about their first times. It's normal to feel this way. But since Satoru is apparently taking too long to get down to business, Toji’s other hand reaches down to shove the fabric out of the way and reveal his bare cock.

Because he's apparently not wearing anything else beneath the leather pants.

Satoru stares at the cock that now rests only centimeters from his face, eyes blown wide and his hands shaking even more. The head of that cock is bright red and a thick vein runs down the shaft. It's a lot longer than Satoru had expected. Thicker, too. He doesn't move. He only stares at it until Toji speaks up again.

“What, haven't you ever sucked a cock before?” Toji scoffs, voice laced with sarcasm. It's even worse when he adds, “Or maybe you just ain't seen one like this. Aw, don't be scared. It doesn't take much to please me.”

Using the fist that still grips Satoru's hair, Toji guides his face closer until the head of that cock brushes Satoru's cheek. Satoru flinches. Toji snorts, amused by the dramatic reaction and teases him further, telling him to kiss it first. All of a sudden, the nervousness in Satoru's belly turns into full-on anxiety. He starts breathing too fast, his stomach churns, the pain overwhelming him as hot tears fill his eyes and bile rises to his throat.

Toji tells him to open his pretty mouth.

Satoru does, and then it all comes pouring out of him.

***

Satoru spends the entire weekend in his bedroom.

He hasn't done anything like this in years. Not since the time that his best friend went off to start college on his own and Satoru was convinced that he'd finally been left behind for good. Because everyone always leaves him behind. When he was little, he would cry and beg his parents not to leave him at home, but they always did anyway. No matter how much he wanted to go with them, see the things that they saw, do the things that they did—he just wanted their attention, but even that was too much to ask for. 

So, Satoru is used to being left behind and loneliness doesn't scare him as much as it used to, but that doesn't mean that he likes it. 

It's just after sunset when one of the servants announces that Satoru has a visitor awaiting his presence in the foyer. That's weird. His parents’ clients and business partners are always aware of when they're out of town or traveling abroad, so they should know not to visit the Gojo estate at this time—especially unannounced. However, it was specified that the visitor was waiting for him. Not his parents.

Sighing, Satoru emerges from his bedroom and lazily makes his way to the entrance. Once he turns a corner and finds himself staring back into a pair of wide amber eyes, he almost trips over his own two feet.

“Why haven't you texted me back?”

Suguru doesn't even say hello to him. He just throws that question into the air and stands there with an incredibly frustrated expression—a pouty expression on his face, his voice laced with concern. How rude. This is Satoru’s house and he comes in uninvited while acting like that? 

No wonder he's still single.

“What are you doing here?” Satoru asks instead of answering the question posed to him. He ignores the way that his heart betrays him, the useless organ getting excited because he's here. And that's dumb. It hasn't even been forty-eight hours since they last saw each other. “I don't recall inviting you over.”

“So?” Suguru grabs his phone from his pocket, taps the screen a few times, and then holds it out for Satoru to stare at the small bright screen. “I texted you that many times. I called you, too. You never answered me. I came here to make sure that you weren't fucking dead in a ditch somewhere.”

It sounds like he's telling the truth. No, it's clear that he is. To be honest, Satoru already knows this because he saw the first few texts the morning after their argument that took place Friday night. Suguru had asked if he got home safely and then asked that Satoru call him as soon as he had calmed down because they needed to talk about some things. Satoru still didn't want to think about Suguru, of all people, so he ignored the texts and turned off his phone.

He hasn't turned it on since then. Well, looks like that doesn't matter, since Suguru has decided to come harass him in person instead.

“Okay. Well, I'm still here, unfortunately.” Satoru sticks out his tongue, teasing, and places a hand on his hip. “You've confirmed it with your own eyes, so are you leaving now?”

“No,” Suguru tells him, still as stubborn as ever. “Also, don't joke like that. Ever. Anyway, we need to talk.”

“I don't want to.”

“Did I ask? We're going to.”

“No.”

“I won't leave until we do, then.”

The most frustrated groan makes its way up Satoru's throat and God. Why did he ever have to fall in love with this jerk in the first place? Everything would've been fine if Satoru had never allowed himself to be so weak. They could've stayed as normal friends who do normal things together. Suguru could date whoever he wanted and Satoru might've found some other guy to be with by now; or not, but none of that would've mattered and he wouldn't be standing here right now, being harassed.

He just wants to be left alone, because everyone always leaves him behind eventually.

“Fine.” Satoru gives in at last. “My room.”

He says nothing more. Satoru spins around and leads the way back from where he came, not checking over his shoulders to see if he's being followed. Another pair of footsteps join him shortly, and the silent trek to his bedroom feels like it lasts for years. He's almost relieved when the door to his room comes into view, even though he's anxious for what's to come.

Satoru enters the room first and Suguru gently shuts the door behind them. Then, he stands there awkwardly as Satoru skips over to his bed and plops down at the edge of it, crossing one leg over the other and leaning back to rest on his palms. He doesn't say anything, just stares and waits. Suguru is the one who so desperately wants to speak to him, so Suguru should do the talking.

Once Suguru seems to realize this, too, he breathes out a sigh and begins quietly, “So… Yuki told me that you showed up to the after-party. Alone. And also that she found you drunk off your ass and lying in the bathtub… I don't get it, Satoru. You told me you were going home.”

While he's been trying to appear unfazed by Suguru's sudden presence, Satoru can't keep up the act after hearing all of that. He clicks his tongue, annoyed. As much as he likes Yuki, he forgets that she's Suguru's friend. She's always been Suguru's friend. Not his. Everyone that Satoru knows is a friend of Suguru's, because Satoru doesn't have his own friends to hang out with. Why would he? He's been so content with having everything be about Suguru. He's never even tried to look beyond that.

“Who says I have to tell you everything?” Satoru sneers. He can't contain the anger as it starts to rise to the surface. “News flash, I can have a life outside of being your friend and you don't control me.”

Suguru frowns at him. “Okay, hold on— when the hell have I ever tried to control you? I never said that you can't have a life outside of me, either. I just wanna know why you'd do something as stupid as go to a random party by yourself, and get so wasted that you black out. What if Yuki and Choso hadn't been there? Or… what if someone else found you like that?”

He's doing it again. He's still treating Satoru like a child who doesn't know any better and needs to be told what to do or scolded when he makes mistakes, because he's just Tiny ‘Toru and in Suguru's eyes, that's all that he'll ever be. Nothing more.

Satoru reacts to the various concerns with a simple shrug, not because he doesn't care, but because he knows that his nonchalance will piss Suguru off.

“Then it would've been my problem. Not yours. God, Suguru—you're not my mother. I mean, not that she gives a shit about what I do.” Satoru laughs out loud at the thought, his shoulders shaking with it. “If I wanna get shitfaced at a party and hookup with a guy, then I can and I will.”

Silence follows those words. When Satoru looks up again, the laughter instantly dies in his throat. Suguru's eyes are so wide that it's a miracle they don't fall out of his head. He looks like he's seen a ghost or something equally as horrifying, like Mahito's face whenever he laughs.

“What?”

Ignoring his shock, Satoru keeps up the bratty behavior, saying, “Oh, yeah. I also hooked up with someone. You surprised? I bet Yuki didn't tell you that, right? I don't think she knew, either. Oh, well.”

“That's…” Suguru trails off, stunned, and then he shakes his head in disbelief. “That's bullshit. You didn't.”

“I did, though.”

“With who?”

Satoru jumps, startled, because that last question was asked in a much louder volume than Suguru has been using in this conversation so far. Louder and more intense, too. It matches the look that's on his face now, like he's ready to brutally kill someone and then eat the body with a pitchfork. Satoru doesn't think he's ever seen Suguru this angry before.

Guilt starts to bubble up in the pit of Satoru’s stomach. He knows that he's probably gone too far now, but he also doesn't understand why Suguru is reacting like this. After all, Suguru isn't his boyfriend. Satoru doesn't even know if they'll still be friends after this. He already disgusted Suguru the other night with his desperate confession and unwelcomed kisses, so he's pretty sure he's already ruined a lifetime of friendship, and that's why he's no longer censoring himself anymore.

That's why he shouldn't feel guilty about this, either. Even so, that guilt threatens to make him nauseous again.

Satoru ignores the gross feeling for now and continues running his mouth. “Oh, you wouldn't know him, so it doesn't matter. Maybe one day I'll introduce him to you, though.”

Lies.

It's all lies.

But Suguru believes those lies, evident by the hurt in his eyes and the anger that manifests as a bitter laugh.

“Nice. Getting shitfaced at parties and fucking strangers. That's so cool and mature of you, Satoru. You must be so proud of yourself for finally growing up.”

Something about that last statement hits Satoru like a punch to the gut. Suguru's condescending tone and his unwarranted anger only serves as fuel to the fire, increasing Satoru's anger in return. Why the hell is Satoru being reprimanded for this? Didn't Suguru do that exact same thing with Mahito and who knows how many other people as well? Why is it okay for Suguru to do these things but Satoru can't? 

Why does everyone have to treat him like a kid?

“Get out,” Satoru snarls. His hand is shaking with anger when he points to the door. “Get the fuck out. Leave.”

Suguru stares back at him, unmoving. He opens his mouth to say something, but the words don't come out and he clamps his lips shut again. He repeats this action twice more before finally giving up. Instead of words, he shakes his head in disappointment. Satoru watches him leave and as soon as he's gone, Satoru turns over on the bed and smashes his face into a pillow, screaming into it until his throat starts to ache and his lungs run out of air.

Fuck Suguru.

Fuck everyone.

Satoru rolls off the bed and marches over to his closet. He snatches the door open with excess force and reaches for the storage chest hidden away on the top shelf. After dropping it onto the floor with a loud thud, he flips open the lid and wonders what to do next. 

Should he take the chest into the yard and set the shirts on fire? No, that would draw too much attention. Maybe he should call for his driver and get a ride into the mountains, and then toss the shirts into the river so that he can watch them be washed away along with his feelings. Wouldn't that be littering, though? Satoru doesn't want to litter.

Screw it. Satoru can't think of the perfect plan while he's surrounded by Suguru's lingering scent that still drives him fucking crazy even now. Overcome by every emotion he's ever felt, Satoru tips the storage chest over in frustration. He kicks the pile of shirts this way and that way as endless, nonsensical curses leave his lips. He keeps kicking them until he runs out of breath and accidentally stubs his toe on the corner of the chest itself.

When Satoru is all out of energy, he leaves the old shirts scattered across the floor of his bedroom and collapses onto his bed.

That night, he dreams of a time long ago: he's clinging to a warm back, feeling high and mighty as he's carried around by his one and only best friend.

***

Satoru is used to being alone.

It doesn't mean that he likes it.

It's been twelve days since the night that Satoru ruins his collection of old shirts and declares that he's finally gotten over his lifelong crush on Geto Suguru. Yes, Satoru is so over him. He really is. He's finally free, finally moving on. He has no choice but to move on.

Moving on from his childhood is what it means to be an adult man, so Satoru will embrace these changes and never look back.

The only issue is that Satoru has grown tired of being alone. He doesn't realize how much of his social circle revolves around Suguru until it's been taken away from him. Not only that, but it's far too late to try and connect with anyone his own age at school. Satoru will be graduating in roughly two months. Everyone is hyperfocused on studying for university entrance exams, filling out job applications, and graduating high school with the beautiful knowledge that they'll never have to go back. 

It's all the same to Satoru. Whether he's at school or at home, he spends his time alone and tries not to think about amber eyes, silky hair, and a smile that makes his heart race. Satoru can't have any of that anymore, he messed it all up by being too honest, too greedy, and now he's finally been left behind by the one person he was starting to believe would never leave him.

Oh, well.

All of this was bound to happen at some point.

At least Satoru has an excuse to focus on other things now instead of his borderline obsession. He needs to prioritize his studies. Satoru has never had any problems in school, he's always excelled at every subject and he used to care so much about getting perfect scores when he was little. It was mostly because he deluded himself into thinking he'd get his parents’ attention if he was the perfect child. Satoru very quickly learned that his academic achievements didn't really change anything, and then he went through that rebellious phase during his teen years when he'd run away all the time.

It's weird how so much has changed over the years. It doesn't feel like it's been that long since the night that Satoru ran away to Suguru's apartment for the very first time. That was the only time that Suguru tried to convince him to go back home, and when Satoru wouldn't budge, he eventually gave up. Instead, they consumed endless junk food, watched movies, played video games, and talked for hours until Satoru had fallen asleep against him.

So, even though Satoru always struggled to get his parents’ love and attention, he never lacked those things when he was with Suguru.

Fuck.

He's thinking about that guy again.

This goes against everything that Satoru stands for now.

It's time to get out of the house, so Satoru wanders around Shibuya until he ends up at his usual hangout spot in his favorite café. The first sip of the melon soda float always hits the spot, but he's only halfway through by time that he loses interest. And that's wild. Satoru has never had any trouble slurping these things down at lightning speed. For this reason, he forces himself to finish every drop, but he doesn't bother ordering a second one like he usually would.

However, another melon soda float is placed on the table in front of him just a few minutes later, and when Satoru glances up, Utahime is watching him with an unreadable expression on her face.

“I didn't order this,” Satoru tells her. He wonders if she's finally gone senile and is now serving customers random drinks.

Utahime says, “It's already paid for.”

She walks away to tend to another table before Satoru can ask how that's possible. He still ends up getting his answer only seconds later, when someone gently tugs the hair at the back of his head. Satoru's heart skips a beat, getting excited, and he looks up to be met with a pale face and short brown hair instead of the other image that his mind had conjured up.

“Oh. Shoko.”

“Wow, don't get too excited to see me,” she replies sarcastically. But there's a friendly smile on her face as she takes the seat across from him. “You're welcome for the float, by the way.”

“Thanks,” Satoru says, and he hopes that he sounds as genuine as he feels.

He takes a sip from the twirly straw while Shoko watches him from across the table. The dessert is just as good as it always is, so he has no complaints, especially since it was free. 

“What have you been up to lately?” she asks suddenly. “Ignoring all of your friends isn't cool, y'know.”

Satoru rubs the back of his hand across his mouth and tries to avoid her prying eyes. He should've known that she wouldn't buy him a melon float if she didn't have ulterior motives. She's a lot like him in that aspect.

“Just busy,” Satoru tells her. He mumbles, “Studying and such. You know the drill. I also didn't wanna bother you guys.”

She frowns at him. “Why would you be bothering us?”

“Well, as I'm sure you're already aware, Suguru and I aren't… talking right now.”

“So?” She tilts her head to the side, frown deepening. “What does that have to do with me?”

“You're his friend, though. Shouldn't you be on his side?”

“Satoru, I'm your friend, too.” For some reason, Shoko laughs at him. She also reaches across the table and steals the melon float from him, since Satoru has resorted to simply twirling the straw in between his fingers. She takes a long sip before saying, “Also, there are no sides. Both of you are equally stupid. Anyway, all long-lasting relationships go through rough patches. You two aren't the exception to the rule.”

As he listens to those words, Satoru remains stuck on the part where Shoko called him her friend. Like, of course they are friends, he's always known that—but he didn't think that they were friends-friends. Genuine friends. After all, she's known Suguru since the two of them were sixteen and Satoru was just the little brat who followed them everywhere. Although, Satoru supposes if he thinks about it long enough, that means he's known Shoko for the same amount of time that Suguru has. Sure, those two are still closer, but maybe Satoru isn't as expendable as he once believed himself to be.

Maybe.

Satoru releases a long sigh. He guesses that her words make sense, but it's still a lot more complicated than that. It's not just that they're going through a “rough patch” or being stubborn after a silly argument. Satoru took eighteen years of friendship and flushed it down the drain in just a single night. He doesn't think it'll be so simple to come back from something like this.

“I fucked it all up, though,” he whines, letting his head slump down against the table. It's been so long since he's been able to whine at someone. Once he starts, he's not going to stop. “It's basically all my fault. I'm the one who… decided to fall in love with him in the first place.”

Shoko nudges his foot beneath the table, but Satoru can't find the energy or willpower to perk up in the slightest. 

“Don't be stupid. No one just wakes up and decides to fall in love with people. It just kind of… happens. You shouldn't feel bad for being honest with your feelings. More people should be honest like you, I think.”

“But Suguru hates me now, so was it really worth it? I grossed him out and then I said some things to make him mad on purpose. I'm the worst.”

“Man, you really are a dramatic princess…” Shoko mutters, just loud enough that Satoru still hears the irritation in her tone. She attempts to sound reassuring when she speaks up again. “Also, Suguru doesn't hate you. He's actually obsessed with you. Always has been.”

Satoru lifts his head from the table and looks at her like she's speaking in tongues.

“Stop lying.”

“Why would I lie?” she questions. Since Satoru can't find an answer, she continues, “He's obviously in love with you, he's just too chicken shit to do anything about it because of the whole age gap thing. Hey, wanna hear something funny? Before he started bringing you around, he made all of us promise to be nice to you. Then you turned out to be the brattiest brat ever and I wanted to smack him for not mentioning that, but Suguru looked so happy to have you around, so I kept it to myself.”

Satoru stares back at her without saying a word, too shocked to hear all of this for the first time ever. He's been so sure that his disgusting feelings have been unrequited all this time, but sometimes Suguru would treat him a certain way, say certain things to him, or entertain Satoru's embarrassing flirtations, and Satoru would get his hopes up. He'd start to think that maybe, just maybe, Suguru felt the same way about him.

This hope has risen significantly within the past month and a half, ever since the kiss that they shared on Satoru's birthday. However, it all came crashing down when Satoru tried kissing him again that night outside of the venue. If Suguru loves him, why hadn't he reciprocated the kiss? Shoko claims that Suguru is uncomfortable with the age difference between them, but what if she's wrong and Suguru just isn't attracted to him like that?

Suguru has seen Satoru at his worst, after all: short, lanky, loud, annoying little Satoru who wouldn't stop following him around. 

However, Suguru has also seen him change and learn and grow into the person that Satoru is today. He's witnessed all of these things firsthand. No one else knows Satoru the way that Suguru does, and isn't that something special?

So many unanswered questions reside in Satoru's mind now. He doesn't even know where to begin. 

“Hey, Satoru, can I make a selfish request?” Shoko asks suddenly. Satoru blinks at her, still very much in shock. Shoko clasps her hands together in a begging gesture, while her expression displays frustration. “You gotta make up with him. Quickly. Suguru has been literally insufferable to be around these past couple weeks, always so moody and short-tempered. It's starting to piss me off. Fix him, please. Or I'll strangle him.”

“What the hell?” Satoru mumbles, then, “Really?”

“Really,” she confirms, sighing again. “I don't know everything that happened between you two, but the guy is a wreck. He needs an intervention, or to be sedated.”

Hearing that is even more shocking than being told about Suguru's apparent “feelings” for him. All this time, as much as Satoru has been telling himself that he hopes Suguru is crying himself to sleep every night, he's actually believed the opposite to be the case. Satoru thought that Suguru's been out there living his best life, now that he no longer has to take care of Satoru. He hasn't had to worry about Satoru's spontaneous and chaotic behaviors, his sass, or his need to constantly be spoiled.

Suguru should be happy that he's finally free, yet according to Shoko, it doesn't sound like he's happy at all.

Satoru doesn't want to get his hopes up. He keeps getting his hopes up and it always backfires, always comes back to bite him in the ass as punishment for believing that his love is reciprocated. Satoru's own parents barely reciprocate his love, so why should Suguru?

“Okay, I'm ready. Sorry for the wait.”

Their conversation is interrupted when Utahime returns to their table. She's no longer wearing the pink and white apron from her uniform, a small purse hangs from her shoulder, and the smile on her face is full of excitement.

“Great,” Shoko replies. She stands from the chair and addresses Satoru again. “Utahime’s on lunch break, so we're going across the street to try out that new ramen shop. Wanna join us? You should get some real food in you, not just sugar.”

Next to her, Utahime’s smile transforms into a childish pout, but she doesn't outwardly reject Satoru tagging along and she even nods her head to the sugar comment. Meanwhile, Satoru is surprised to see that they're hanging out like friends again, and he feels silly for not noticing. Why else would Shoko be here? If she wanted to avoid Utahime, she wouldn't have showed up to her workplace. 

“Nah, I'm okay,” Satoru decides. “Invite me next time, though? Especially if the food turns out to be really good.”

Honestly, Satoru is just happy to be invited. He loves that he's still considered a friend even without Suguru around. He loves that someone out there sees him as his own person, and maybe they always have. Maybe Satoru is the one who's assumed otherwise. Either way, he won't interrupt the little lunch date that the two of them have planned for the day. 

Satoru has other things to think about for now.

“Alright,” Shoko agrees. She waves at him and leaves him with one final reminder. “Don't forget what I said, though. I will have to strangle him if he keeps it up, so I'm hoping you won't let it come to that.”

“Okay,” Satoru laughs.

Oh. He hasn't laughed even once in the past couple of weeks. 

It feels good. 

Maybe isolating himself hadn't been his smartest idea, but the past is in the past and now he has a mission to complete. He can't let Shoko end up in prison for choking Suguru to death, just like he can't give up so easily on eighteen years of an unbreakable bond.

It's time to come up with a new plan, then.

***

Satoru doesn't text Suguru.

He tries to. He really does. The words refuse to come out of him, though. Satoru starts typing at least a hundred times, only to delete everything in frustration because nothing sounds right. Nothing. He eventually gives up and tosses his phone onto his bed, telling himself that he'll just have to try again later.

It's been two days of this, though. Somehow, it's already been two days since his conversation with Shoko at the café and he still hasn't texted Suguru. Maybe he's just too scared of rejection. He's been rejected by Suguru twice now: once when he was drunk after the Christmas Eve party, and again outside of the venue. A third rejection is going to be too much, Satoru doesn't know what he'll do if he gets rejected a third time.

He might have to change his name, dye his hair blond, and move to England.

Yeah, something like that.

After two days of hair-pulling anguish, Satoru is saved when he receives a text from Yuki. She says that tonight she's hosting a spontaneous little get-together at her place again, and she hopes that he'll find the time to stop by because she misses him. She also says that everyone will be there, and she isn't being subtle at all when she mentions that she's forcing Suguru to bring the soda wine that Satoru had liked so much.

Is this bribery? It feels like bribery.

Satoru still drops everything that he's doing to run to his closet and find something to wear.

Unlike the last time, Satoru actually brings a snack with him (a giant box of macadamia cookies that he was saving to nibble on during his study sessions), and also unlike the last time, Yuki is the one who opens the door when he gets there. She immediately hugs him, just like always. Seeing the affection in her bright eyes, Satoru feels silly for thinking that they weren't friends.

“Thanks for coming,” she tells him. Yuki tugs on his arm and pulls him into the apartment. She doesn't let go even as Satoru tries to wiggle out of his shoes. “It's been too quiet without you! Shoko told me you've been busy with your studies, though. Good for you. That shit is kind of important, I guess. What's in the bag?”

A grin spreads along Satoru's face as she speaks. He also really misses her rambling. Even though he really wants to blurt out the question, “where is he?”, and run into Suguru's arms, he makes himself be polite.

“Cookies,” Satoru answers, handing the bag to her. “It sounds noisy in there. What were you guys doing?”

Instead of telling him, Yuki grins and tugs him into the living room to show him instead. Currently, Shoko, Utahime, and Choso are sitting in a circle on the floor with a deck of cards and a pile of stuff in the middle. Random snacks, 100 yen coins, stationery, grocery store coupons—just stuff that has nothing to do with each other. At first glance, it's impossible to tell what game they're playing. Satoru doesn't even try to guess.

Instead, his mind focuses on the fact that Suguru is nowhere in sight and his heart begins to ache, longing to see him. Maybe he's just in the bathroom or something.

“We're in the middle of an intense game of broke poker,” Yuki explains. She points to the miscellaneous pile of stuff in the middle. “You're allowed to bet anything that you have with you, except money, unless it's chump change. Wanna play with us next round? I'll teach you. You can even bet some of these cookies that you brought.”

Before Satoru can answer her, a loud, offended gasp is heard from the floor.

“You're betting two cigarettes? Seriously?” Utahime shakes her head in disapproval, but Shoko ignores it and places the cigarettes on top of the pile. “No one wants that! You're the only one who smokes. Take it back.” 

“Nah.” Shoko disagrees with a casual shrug of her shoulders. She grabs a card from the deck on the floor, saying, “I'm sure it'll come in handy at some point. These are the rules of broke poker, so don't complain.”

It looks like complaining some more is exactly what Utahime plans to do, but she's silenced when Choso suddenly reveals his hand and announces:

“Straight flush.”

Both Shoko and Utahime react with exasperated sighs while Yuki cheers, then delivers a high-five to her boyfriend.

“Let's start over so that Satoru can play,” Choso suggests. He lifts his head and welcomes Satoru with a friendly smile—the second time that Satoru has seen him do that. “You wanna join us, right?”

Satoru takes a moment to glance at everyone in the circle. In addition to Choso's friendly smile, Shoko is beckoning him to come sit next to her, Utahime swears that she's going to win against him, and Yuki has already added the cookies to the small pile of random stuff. For the first time, Satoru really feels like he belongs here. This is his friend group, just as much as Suguru's. He isn't actually the outsider that he had labeled himself as.

“Right!” Satoru agrees.

He has no fucking idea on how to play poker, but he knows that it's going to be very chaotic and tons of fun.

As soon as Satoru gets comfortable next to Shoko on the floor, the sliding glass door to the balcony comes open. He glances up on instinct and—oh.

Fuck. 

It's him.

Suguru stares back at him with an open mouth and eyes wide with shock. Neither of them say anything. It's the first time that they've seen each other in two weeks and Shoko was right, he looks… rough. Even from a distance, Satoru can see the dark bags under Suguru's eyes and it looks like he hasn't shaved his chin in a few days either. His long, beautiful hair that he normally takes good care of isn't pulled back from his face, he's left it down and it's a little bit frizzy, a little untamed.

Maybe he really does need an intervention.

“Where's my lighter?” Shoko asks, and thank goodness. No one else seemed willing to break the horrendously awkward silence.

Suguru finally remembers that there are other people in the room, too, and not just Satoru. His eyes shift over to Shoko and he tosses the lighter to her, which he'd apparently been holding. Satoru frowns at the interaction. If Suguru had the lighter, that means he'd been smoking out there on the balcony all this time. Thing is, Suguru quit smoking over a year ago after Satoru kept making a big fuss over the smell of it.

So, if Suguru has started smoking again, then something must be really off.

“Are you joining us, too?” Yuki asks, the question directed at Suguru now and he's still just standing there.

Unmoving.

He declines the offer with a shake of his head.

“Party pooper,” Yuki grumbles, rolling her eyes. She perks up a second later, announcing to the group, “We're starting now! Satoru and I are on a team, since he doesn't know how to play. I'll be his coach.”

“That's fine with me,” Shoko says. “You'll still lose, anyway.”

The two of them exchange banter while Choso shuffles the deck of cards and Utahime steals a macadamia cookie from the pile because no one's paying attention. Satoru's eyes can't help but wander elsewhere, watching as Suguru takes a seat on the couch instead of joining them all on the floor. He looks down, catching Satoru's eyes on him, and Satoru awkwardly looks away before he can stop himself.

Ugh.

This isn't how things were supposed to go tonight. He came here to save their friendship and maybe find out if Suguru really is in love with him or not, but Suguru is being Mr. Antisocial and Satoru can't find the courage to speak to him first. It's so ridiculous. Suguru is the last person on earth who should make Satoru feel awkward. They've been together ever since Satoru was in diapers. They know basically everything about each other.

Why is this so hard?

Satoru doesn't know what to do to make this easier, so he pretends to be fine and he allows Yuki to teach him how to play poker. If he's being honest with himself, it's confusing as hell and he doesn't like it. Satoru likes playing with his friends, though. Despite having no clue what's going on, he boasts as if he's the king of poker. He starts petty drama and teases Utahime when she gets too competitive, he convinces Shoko to bet all of her cigarettes instead of just the two, and then he teams up with Choso and the game turns into a three vs. two match since Yuki is still coaching him.

It's the most fun that Satoru has had in the past two weeks. He almost forgets why he's here in the first place, until a familiar voice suddenly calls out to him near the end of this first game.

“Satoru.”

Despite how rowdy the game has become, Satoru hears that soft voice more clearly than anything. It's like his mind is attuned to listening to that voice above all else, and so he instantly looks away from his cards to focus on the couch instead.

Suguru is staring at him, eyes narrowed and intense. He's been watching Satoru throughout the entire game of poker and Satoru knows it, he's glanced over a few times to get a peek at Suguru, too. It's different now that he's been singled out, though, as Suguru finally decides to be mature and use his voice.

“I need to talk to you.”

The way he chooses to word that sentence makes Satoru swallow nervously. How rude. He could've said something like, can we talk? But no, apparently he needs to talk to Satoru and he doesn't care that he's interrupting their fun game of broke poker that Suguru chose to skip out on. Well, he can wait. Satoru will talk to him when he's ready.

“Okay?” Satoru scoffs. He tries not to let his nervousness appear in his tone when he turns back to face the others. “We’re almost done with this round and I'm about to win, so maybe afterwards—”

“But I need to talk to you. Right now,” Suguru interrupts him to repeat, which is even more rude. He seems to think so, too, and he tacks on a useless, “Please.”

Satoru doesn't know what's worse: Suguru being rude and demanding despite how much he always chastises Satoru for doing the same thing, or the fact that everyone else is watching their awkward interaction while pretending to mind their own business. It's beginning to feel like he's become the member of a drama series. Satoru doesn't like this feeling.

“Fine,” he finally agrees, if only to get this over with since he's been desperately wanting to speak with Suguru, too. Hs still thinks Suguru should've asked more nicely, though.

The two of them stand up at the same time. Satoru ignores the watchful eyes of their friends and turns towards the kitchen, thinking they'll go there for some privacy. So, it surprises him when Suguru grabs his hand and yanks him in the opposite direction, past the curtains and out onto the balcony. All that Satoru can do is move his legs along so that he won't be tripped. Suguru quickly shuts the glass door behind them and since his grip on Satoru's wrist is starting to become painful, Satoru snatches his arm back.

He asks, “What do you want?”

They've already wasted so much time. Whatever Suguru has to say, Satoru wants him to come right out and say it.

Suguru stares for all of three seconds, and then his eyes shift to the side as he mumbles, “That guy from the party… do you like him?”

It's not the question that Satoru expects to hear from him. He actually isn't sure what he expected at all, but it certainly wasn't that.

Dumbfounded, he responds, “Huh?”

“Is he your boyfriend?”

Satoru blinks at him. He wonders why Suguru is asking him this, until he remembers their argument and how Satoru had made it sound like Toji was someone he planned to stick around with. In truth, Satoru doesn't know more than the guy's name. He's surprised that he even remembers that much, given how intoxicated he had been. 

Suguru isn't aware of any of this. He has no idea that Satoru lied to him that night.

Sighing, Satoru answers, “No, he isn't, but—”

He's cut off when Suguru kisses him all of a sudden. Satoru reacts with a surprised squeak. One moment there's a fair amount of distance between them and the next moment, Suguru's hands are on his cheeks and he kisses Satoru like it's the last time they'll ever kiss and he needs to make it count. 

It's just so easy to give in when it comes to that mouth. Too easy. Satoru's eyes flutter shut because it feels good, it feels so good and oh, he's missed this so much. He has missed Suguru so much. How is Satoru ever meant to live without him? That's the thing. He can't.

But then the realization enters Satoru's mind, because the last time that Suguru kissed him like this, Satoru jumped to conclusions and got his heart broken right afterwards. No. He can't let that happen again, not when he's finally starting to feel like a real person.

Using what little strength he has to resist that perfect mouth, Satoru pushes Suguru away from him.

“Stop!” Breathing harshly, Satoru reaches up to cover his wet, tingling mouth with his hand. He's already started trembling, overwhelmed with confusion and anger. He's glaring at Suguru when he asks, “What… what the hell are you doing? Why are you being like this?”

Suguru doesn't respond right away, still shocked by the sudden rejection. He lifts a hand as if to touch Satoru, but he quickly changes his mind and drops it again. Then, he steps back to lean against the balcony's railing.

“Fuck,” he curses, and then it's followed by a weird laugh as Suguru shakes his head.

Maybe this is it. He's finally lost it.

Satoru doesn't even get a chance to react to his madness before Suguru asks him a question.

“Do you love me?”

Satoru stares at him.

“Like, are you in love with me?” Suguru clarifies. He clasps his hands together in front of him and stares down at his socked feet. “Just asking, since… I basically just confirmed to myself that I'm in love with you.”

Oh.

Oh. 

There it is.

The words that Satoru has been wanting to hear for what feels like the entirety of his life so far. He has imagined this moment so many times and in so many ways, and of course it's never the same in reality, but that's okay. All that matters is that it's happening and the sheer amount of joy that suddenly spreads throughout Satoru’s body takes his breath away.

“And isn't that kind of fucked up?” Suguru continues. He starts to ramble a bit. “I mean, you're just barely leaving high school and… and we… fuck, I've known you since you were a baby. Isn't this weird? It feels so weird.”

Right. Shoko mentioned he had been worried about that. Satoru puts his internal celebration aside for now and tries to participate in this conversation. Suguru is finally being honest and opening up to him, so Satoru will reciprocate.

He steps forward to close the bit of distance between them, standing directly before Suguru now.

“It doesn't have to feel weird… you're just telling yourself that.”

"Mm. Maybe."

"Hey." Satoru lifts a hand and places it against Suguru's warm cheek, his thumb caressing the skin there. He smiles and admits, "I really am in love with you."

Suguru inhales a sharp breath, his eyes wide as he stares back into the love-filled ones before him. It only takes a second for him to relax. He leans into Satoru's gentle palm, content.

"When did you... decide that?" he quietly asks.

"Decide it? Never. It's more like... I realized that I always have been."

Suguru takes Satoru's other hand into his own and reciprocates the sweet caresses, his own thumb slowly gliding along the skin of Satoru's wrist. It tickles in a way that isn't overbearing. Satoru desperately wants to kiss him again, but he reminds himself to be patient.

"I wasn't always nice to you, though. When we were growing up." Suguru looks into Satoru's eyes again, while his mouth spreads into a teasing grin. "You a masochist or something?"

Satoru rolls his eyes and pinches Suguru's cheek as revenge.

"Shut the hell up."

"Just sayin'."

"Well, I loved you regardless of that,” he admits. "I still love you. You always take care of me and... you see me when other people don't, so…”

It feels both terrifying and liberating to finally say these things out loud. Satoru has been keeping his feelings a secret for so long that it's almost bittersweet to finally release them from the confines of his heart. What makes it worth it is knowing that Suguru really does accept him. Every part of him, including the part that's madly in love with Geto Suguru and wishes to never stop following him around.

“Can I kiss you?” Suguru asks suddenly. His eyes are wide again, his desperation obvious in his tone. “I wanna kiss you again, ‘Toru. Will you let me?”

Satoru stares back at him, flushing from head to toe. No one's ever asked him for a kiss before. Never. The first time, Satoru had been the one to ask Suguru. The second time, Satoru didn't ask at all. The third time, he was kissed while being shoved against a bathroom wall and the fourth time was just a couple minutes ago. A surprise kiss from his one and only love.

But Suguru is asking for permission now and for some reason, Satoru feels embarrassed and flattered at the same time. Unable to find the words, he nods his head.

This time, Suguru doesn't kiss him like it's the last time they'll ever do this. Instead, he kisses Satoru like it's the first time all over again. Firm, but gentle. Passionate, but teasing. Everything about this kiss is a contradiction of itself and Satoru enjoys it all the same, because it's Suguru, and that's all that matters to him.

The paranoia still haunts him, though, so Satoru eventually pulls back to ask, “Before I get too happy, this means that we're boyfriends now, right? We're dating exclusively? A romantic couple?”

Suguru instantly laughs because he's still a jerk when it all comes down to it, but at least he's quick to agree with a confident nod.

“Yes. All of that and more,” he answers. He pauses to smooch the tip of Satoru's pointy nose. “Ah, there is something that I'd like to say, though.”

Satoru tilts his head to the side. “What's that?”

“Let's try to take things slowly? I feel like… I'm in a position where it's easy to take advantage of you and I never wanna do that, so… we should hold off on doing certain things until you graduate.”

It takes a moment, but when Satoru finally gets what’s being hinted at here, he reacts with a dramatic, horrified gasp.

“Graduation!?”

“Yes.”

"I can't wait that long!"

"You're just telling yourself that." Suguru sticks out his tongue after mimicking Satoru's words from just a few minutes ago. Satoru has to resist the urge to tug on the bastard's tongue piercing. "Besides, haven't you already waited your whole life so far? Two months won't feel like anything. I just wanna make sure you can concentrate on other things in life, too. Your studies are important."

Wow. Satoru has probably never felt more disrespected in his life. How dare Suguru use Satoru's lifelong crush on him as a silly little example. He truly is the worst and Satoru is getting really fed up with his bullshit.

He announces, "I take back everything that I've said. I actually hate you."

Suguru doesn't waste a second, easily replying, "Love you too, princess."

Fuck. That's just not fair. 

He really is just a bully. Satoru actually fell in love with his childhood bully who still gets immense pleasure out of bullying him in the present. Maybe Satoru is the one with questionable tastes in men.

"If... if I have to wait until graduation, then you have to wait before you can call me shit like that,” he mumbles, suddenly too shy and embarrassed to gaze into Suguru's warm eyes anymore.

With his hands currently resting on Satoru's hips, Suguru hums as he drums his fingers against the area. Even while clothed, Satoru still feels like he's slowly losing his mind. He wants Suguru's hands on him. He wants those hands all over his body and he wants that stupid, arrogant mouth around his—

"So, that means I can eventually call you princess again?"

Satoru shoves his chest. "Fuck you. Get away from me.”

Of course, Suguru does no such thing. He does the opposite, in fact. He pulls Satoru closer to him and presses quick kisses all around his face and neck, the gentle touches making Satoru giggle because it tickles so much. He's unable to escape Suguru's hold and maybe he never wants to, now that he finally has this.

Not being alone anymore feels amazing.

***

Being Suguru's boyfriend is really nice.

It's ironic how Suguru says he wants Satoru to focus on himself and his studies, yet they still see each other every single day and it feels like his life is revolving around Suguru again. What's different now is that Suguru is clearly just as crazy about him. 

Sometimes they're both busy and they'll only have a one-hour window of free time to talk. Instead of just calling him on the phone, Suguru would still rather drive all the way to Satoru's house, make out with him for an hour, and then drive back to wherever it is that he needs to be. It's silly and crazy and Satoru loves it. He loves it so fucking much, because the feeling of being wanted is too good to resist. He'll never take this young stupid love for granted.

Satoru will never take the ability to kiss Suguru for granted either. They're always kissing anytime that they get the chance to do that. Satoru has learned how Suguru likes to be kissed: slowly, and with lots of tongue. Sometimes when they're hanging out in Suguru's apartment, he'll be daring enough to straddle Suguru's lap and kiss him until both of them are gasping and they have to force themselves to stop.

So, Satoru has also learned what Suguru's clothed erection feels like.

He wishes that graduation would arrive sooner.

What arrives first is Suguru's birthday.

Satoru has secretly been stressing over what to get Suguru as a gift for his special day. It's impossible to think of the perfect gift that would be able to outdo what Suguru did for Satoru's birthday: that surprise reservation, the shopping spree, the goddamn first-kiss that started it all. Satoru felt so loved and cared for that day. He wants to make Suguru feel the same way, but how?

It's far too late to get a reservation to someplace nice. Satoru has been so busy with his studies, the venue drama, his own angst, and now making out with his boyfriend all time—he literally forgot how fast this special day was coming up. It's not as if he doesn't know what Suguru likes, either. Of course he knows. However, Suguru always gets to go to punk shows and he always preorders the upcoming albums from his favorite bands, so nothing that Satoru can gift him involving music would be an actual surprise.

This is why Satoru is struggling so much. He has to think outside the box. He has to go above and beyond. When he gets extra desperate, he asks the girls for advice. He receives a wide variety of answers from all three of them, and then Yuki jokes, what if you were his birthday gift?

Satoru takes that idea and runs with it.

Unlike Satoru, Suguru rarely ever makes a big deal about his birthday. As a matter of fact, this year he doesn't even remember to request that day off work and claims that it's no big deal when he finally realizes it. One year he'd gone to a concert with his friends on his birthday, and that's only because the show happened to be scheduled for that date. Other than that, Suguru typically just goes along with it if people want to buy him dinner or drinks for his special day.

This year, Satoru is the one who demands his time. Suguru being at work is perfect, it gives Satoru plenty of time to prepare his master plan at the apartment. He tells Suguru that they'll have dinner together tonight and that he better not be late. Satoru uses the spare key to let himself into the apartment about an hour before Suguru gets off work. For dinner, he has picked up Suguru's favorite soba noodle soup from a restaurant downtown and for dessert, well…

Satoru has another plan for that.

He cleans himself up in the shower as quickly as he can and puts on the biggest band shirt that he can find in Suguru's closet. Afterwards, Satoru pulls the black fishnets over his long legs, frowning when one of his toes get stuck and he has to rearrange the stockings, but then he almost rips the material in the process. It's a lot harder than it looks, okay, and he's rushing because Suguru will be here in less than twenty minutes. Satoru has less trouble donning the black spiked choker afterwards, and then he takes a look at his reflection in the mirror attached to the closet door.

Damn.

He looks really fucking good.

No surprise there.

Satoru is in the middle of taking countless mirror selfies when he hears the front door being unlocked. He's lucky that he prepared everything in time, Suguru is here a few minutes earlier than he said that he would be. That's fine. Satoru is already too eager to see him again and give him his surprise birthday gift.

If Suguru is willing to accept it, of course.

God, Satoru really hopes so.

“I'm back, ‘Toru,” Suguru calls out to him from the entryway. “Are you ready to…”

Suguru trails off with that thought, unable to finish his sentence when he hears Satoru's approaching footsteps and lifts his head to greet his boyfriend. The look on his face is absolutely priceless. Satoru wishes he could take photos of it. He's trying to be sexy, though. Irresistible. Alluring. All that good stuff. So, Satoru resists the laugh that threatens to burst out when he takes in Suguru's shock and watches him drop the keys onto the floor.

“Happy birthday,” Satoru announces, grinning from ear to ear and tugging on the hem of the long shirt that just barely reaches the top of his thighs. He teases, “Like what you see? Obviously. Try not to let your eyeballs fall onto the floor.”

Suguru doesn't even react to the teasing. His wide eyes take in Satoru's appearance from top to bottom, and then his tongue darts out to lick over his lips, an automatic reaction. Satoru starts to feel like a little fish again, but this time he's choosing to be the bait.

“What's all this…?” Suguru asks. Now his eyes are glued to the fishnets covering Satoru's long, slender legs and he doesn't try to be subtle about it at all.

“It's your birthday gift! Duh,” Satoru explains. Heat rises to his cheeks while arousal begins pooling in his gut. He tries to keep the cool confidence in his tone as he speaks. “Well, part of your gift, I mean. Dinner is in the kitchen, I got your favorite… are you hungry? I'll reheat it, it won't take long.”

Suguru responds to all of that with a long hum, nothing more. He takes a few steps forward, movements slow and easy as he closes the short distance between them and Satoru gulps down the saliva in his mouth, nervous. Too nervous and excited despite his false bravado. Suguru hasn't even touched him yet. He thinks it's about to happen, but when Suguru reaches a hand towards him, his fingers grip the edge of the long t-shirt instead.

“Where'd you find this?”

“Um. The back of your closet.”

“And the choker?”

“Yuki gave it to me.”

“Mm…”

The fact that Suguru hasn't said anything to give away how he truly feels makes Satoru even more nervous. He clasps his hands behind his back and starts to ramble before he can help himself.

“I know you said that you wanted me to wait ‘til graduation, but I didn't know what to get you for your birthday and… we had a ton of fun on my birthday, but I couldn't come up with anything perfect for you, so… I thought maybe you wouldn't mind this? But we can just have dinner and hang out, if you want. It's up to you.”

“Satoru.”

“Yeah?”

“Stop talking for a sec.”

Satoru gasps instead, offended. What a dickhead! He was just trying to explain his rationale so that Suguru wouldn't think he was purposely going against their “graduation” agreement. Well, technically he is going against it, but only because he had no choice! It's Suguru's fault for not being clear about what he wants for his birthday. All of this could've been avoided if he had simply demanded things like Satoru always does. He would've been fine with buying Suguru a new pair of socks if he'd asked for it.

Right before Satoru gets the urge to mouth off again, Suguru lets out a frustrated groan and suddenly leans forward, resting his forehead on Satoru's shoulder. His arms wrap around Satoru's waist and he clings to him like this. Satoru can't tell if this is a good thing or a bad thing. Maybe Suguru is just too tired from work.

But then Suguru mumbles, “Fuck. I'm always holding myself back around you.”

Oh.

“Don't,” Satoru mumbles back. He knows what Suguru means by that and he's disapproved of it since the very beginning. He repeats, “Don't hold back. I don't want you to.”

Suguru chuckles softly and Satoru feels the vibrations of it against his chest. Ah, he wants Suguru so fucking badly. He knows that Suguru wants him just as much and he wishes that the idiot would simply take him already. Satoru has been so good, so patient, and now he's tired of waiting. He doesn't want to wait any longer.

“You sure you won't regret it?” Suguru asks next. 

He lifts his head to gaze back into Satoru's eyes now, a teasing grin playing at his lips. 

Satoru nods with confidence. “Of course I wouldn't. I don't regret anything when it comes to you… us… this. That would be fucking stupid. I'm not stupid.”

Suguru reacts to that with another laugh and then he presses a quick kiss to Satoru's pouty lips. Satoru doesn't get to kiss him back. All of a sudden, he's being lifted off his feet when Suguru tightens the hold around his waist and pulls. Satoru gasps. His long legs automatically cling to Suguru's waist so that he won't fall, but Suguru would also never let him fall. Those hands secure themselves on Satoru's ass and Suguru carries him further into the apartment with a goal in mind.

Satoru giggles, his head held high in the air and he asks, “No dinner?”

“Later,” Suguru responds. He carries Satoru into the bedroom. “Eating you first.”

Satoru starts to tease him for saying something so corny, but then Suguru literally tosses him onto the bed and Satoru bounces against the mattress, stunned. He watches, eyes wide as Suguru immediately climbs onto the bed after him, those hungry eyes never looking away from Satoru even as Suguru tugs his sweater over his head and tosses it elsewhere. His mouth is on Satoru's skin hardly a second later, kissing down his neck while Suguru's hands slide up beneath the shirt to touch him.

It's ironic that Satoru practically begged Suguru not to hold back, and now that Suguru is acting on pure desire alone, it's almost overwhelming. In a good way, though. Satoru just isn't used to being desired like this, but he wants to give himself to Suguru tonight. He wants to give Suguru everything.

“You're keeping this on,” Suguru decides, his fingers playing with the buckle of the spiked choker around the base of Satoru's long neck. Suguru looks mesmerized by it. “Fuck. Yuki is a genius.”

Satoru giggles again, the sound muffled when Suguru suddenly leans down and captures his mouth in a sloppy kiss. He hums, pleased when that tongue slides in between his lips and licks across the roof of his mouth, the piercing tickling him like it always does. Satoru would like to formally thank whatever spirit possessed Suguru when he was a teenager and convinced him to get all of these piercings over time. Along with his addicting scent, the piercings have served as the main characters behind Satoru's masturbation material.

It's not long before Suguru gets rid of the old shirt covering Satoru's torso, and as soon as that's out of the way, he attaches his mouth to Satoru's chest and Satoru squeals, sensitive. His blush deepens when Suguru laughs at him, that hot tongue and the piercing dragging across his heated skin before he settles with suckling on Satoru's perky nipple. Satoru squirms beneath him. He can't wait to do the same to Suguru, has always wanted to play with his pierced nipples and feel them against his tongue. But he promised to let Suguru ravage him first, so Satoru will try his best not to be greedy.

“Gonna fuck you so good,” Suguru mutters in between the countless kisses and bite marks that he leaves behind. “I promise. You won't even remember his name.”

Too overwhelmed by everything being done to him, Satoru hardly pays attention to what Suguru is saying. He doesn't open his eyes again until he feels the mattress shift as Suguru leans over his body and reaches into the nearby nightstand. He finds what he's looking for rather quickly, returning with a small box and a bottle in his hand that he drops onto the bed without a care.

Lubricant and a box of Magnum XL condoms.

Shit.

Satoru's skinny little ass is about to be destroyed.

“Hmm…” 

Suguru hums and takes a moment to analyze the fishnets from where he's kneeling in between Satoru's spread legs. Satoru is wearing nothing beneath them, deciding that just the fishnets and the oversized shirt would be sexiest. His cock is hard and already leaking, he feels embarrassed to have Suguru staring down at the area, studying him. Satoru opens his mouth to whine, but then Suguru's fingers tug at the fishnets right where they cover Satoru's groin. He suddenly rips the material apart with ease, giving him access to both Satoru's aching cock and his asshole.

“That's better,” Suguru decides. He reaches for the lube as he says, “You're keeping the fishnets on, too. You've got the best fucking legs in the world, ‘Toru. I used to be kind of jealous, y'know?”

“Huh…?” Satoru finds that impossible to believe. “Why?”

“How come this brat is taller than me now? Who let that happen?” Suguru mimics his thoughts from the past and laughs afterwards. He spreads the lube around his fingers and then presses lightly against Satoru’s entrance, circling around the rim. “I love them now, though. Your legs. Anyway, you ever played with yourself down here before?”

While Suguru casually runs his mouth, Satoru feels like he's slowly beginning to lose his mind. He can't believe it's Suguru's fingers touching him down there and not his own. Nothing has even entered him yet and he's already breathing fast, too excited to control his every reaction.

Satoru finally responds with a bashful nod.

Suguru's brows rise higher on his forehead. He circles the rim a bit faster, teasing Satoru's hole and completely ignoring his needy little cock.

“Mm, really?”

“Yeah…” he admits, and then the concept of shame gets thrown out the window as Satoru goes on to say, “For months now. I wanted to make sure that… that I…”

“That what? Talk to me, baby.”

The pet name makes his cock twitch. Satoru blurts out, “Wanted to make sure I could take your dick. I always... fuck, I came so many times thinking about you. Just you. No one else.”

Suguru's finger suddenly breaches his hole and Satoru responds with a loud, breathy moan. He wants to watch but he can't anymore, his body and mind succumbing to pure pleasure. His hips take on a mind of their own and he begins thrusting back against that finger, needing it deeper inside of him.

“Jesus. You're so damn eager,” Suguru comments, and he sounds just as breathless now. He doesn't wait another moment, deciding to insert another finger in with the first one and Satoru gasps, fucking himself faster. “Tell me… how many times did you do this while thinking about me?”

Uh-oh.

Why did he have to go and ask that?

Satoru slings an arm over his face, hiding behind it as he chooses to be honest again. “A lot…”

“And how many is that?”

“I… don't know. Too many to count.”

Suguru reacts to those words with a deep, feral groan that sends shivers up Satoru's spine. Next thing he knows, his aching cock is being engulfed in wet heat and it shocks Satoru to his core. He doesn't even make a noise. His back arches off the mattress but he can't escape the overwhelming sensations from his front and his back, Suguru's fingers fucking his tight hole without pause while that mouth slides up and down the length of Satoru's cock. It feels phenomenal. All of it.

The tongue piercing especially. Suguru circles his tongue around the head of Satoru's leaking cock, the firm metal a stark contrast to the softness of that tongue. It's driving Satoru crazy, he tries to keep still but he can't. He really can't.

“Bet that guy didn't do this to you, huh?” Suguru asks the question after pulling off to catch his breath. He slides his tongue down the length, the skin glistening from his saliva. All the while, the fingers of his other hand never stop curling inside Satoru's ass. “Bet it wasn't nearly as good as what I can do for you.”

Despite everything that's going on, Satoru's brain is able to focus just a little more this time, but only because Suguru keeps mentioning some guy and Satoru has no idea what he's talking about.

“What—fuck—what guy…?”

“The guy from that fucking party,” Suguru clarifies. He briefly sucks one of Satoru's balls into his mouth and then adds, “The one that you hooked up with.”

Oh, right. 

Toji.

To be honest, Satoru really had forgotten all about that. He feels a bit bad about it, too, because he can tell that Suguru is still upset about what he thinks may have happened, because Satoru never bothered to tell him the truth. But is right now a good time to be honest, when Suguru's teeth are near his genitals and if he gets mad enough, Satoru can kiss his foreskin goodbye?

It's a difficult decision to make, but in the end, Satoru decides to be honest again. He doesn't like lying to Suguru. It doesn't feel good to lie to him.

“Actually, I… I never h-hooked up with him…”

Suguru pauses. Everything comes to a pause, including his fingers that have been mercilessly fucking Satoru into the next lifetime.

“What?”

Satoru gulps and says, “We… didn't hook up. I mean, we were going to, but I couldn't do it. Then I got sick all over him and totally grossed him out, so he left me in the bathroom and… yeah.”

As much as Satoru doesn't want to think about that night, he figures that he owes it to Suguru to tell him the truth. And, well, this is the truth. Satoru puked on Toji and he's lucky that the guy didn't beat the shit out of him afterwards. He did seem extremely uncomfortable, though, both from the puke and from Satoru crying his eyes out until he could barely breathe. He remembers Toji trying to calm him down, but it just wasn't working. After quickly cleaning himself at the sink, Toji abandoned him in the bathroom and Satoru felt too humiliated to come out, so in his drunken state, he decided that his next option was to hibernate in the bathtub.

Yuki found him at some point. She and Choso had to drag him out of the tub against his will, and when she offered to call Suguru to come pick him up, Satoru begged and pleaded for her not to do that. Instead, they helped Satoru call for his driver so that he could be taken home for the night.

Basically, Satoru never had sex with Toji and he probably should have cleared this up a lot sooner.

“You fucking brat.” Suguru finally reacts when he pinches Satoru's thigh, hard, and ignores the whining that his punishment results in. “Have you any idea how pissed off I've been, thinking that someone stole your first time from me? I almost went crazy.”

Satoru instantly stops whining when he hears that confession. A range of emotions pass through him: guilt, relief, endearment, happiness. Suguru wanted to have Satoru's first time and that's what he's been so upset about? How cute. How selfish, too, because he's already taken the spot as Satoru's first kiss and first crush, but now he wants even more? Shame on him, especially when he's the one who rejected Satoru's advances in the first place.

Knowing this, Satoru feels so smug right now.

"Now you know... how I feel about all of your first times being taken from me.”

Suguru blinks at him like an idiot. Then, he shakes his head. "That doesn't count. I'm almost five years older than you. It was bound to happen at some point.”

Just for that, Satoru kicks his shoulder.

"You're such a dickhead."

Grinning now, Suguru leans up from his spot in between Satoru's quivering thighs and kisses him once, twice, right on the mouth. He still has his fingers buried deep in Satoru's ass like it's the most normal thing in the world, and Satoru jolts as those fingers twist inside of him, the heat shooting through his body and curling low in his tummy. He knows that he's close.

"Hey, if it makes you feel any better... you're still the one and only person I've ever fallen in love with."

It turns out that Suguru really is a dickhead if he thinks that muttering sweet nothings into Satoru's ear will work. Really, it's not gonna work at all. Nope. Satoru refuses.

He turns his head, mumbles, "You're just saying that to distract me..."

"Is it working?"

"Mhmm…”

When Suguru kisses him again, all the annoyance melts away from Satoru's body at once. It's replaced by pure ecstasy when the fingers pressed deep inside him separate from each other, stretching his hole and making Satoru whimper from how good it feels. His toes curl against the sheets and he's close, he's too close.

"I wonder..." Suguru curls his fingers again and breathes harshly against Satoru’s swollen mouth. "Can you come with just my fingers fucking you like this? You can, right?”

Satoru definitely can and he most likely will if he doesn't say something right now.

"Wait, wait… stop." Satoru grabs the wrist of that hand and forces Suguru to stop moving inside of him. He takes a moment to catch his breath, and then he whines, "I... I wanna come while you're inside of me, though…”

"Hm?" Suguru looks at him like he's just said something ridiculous. The smirk that appears turns Satoru on even more. "Did you think that you were only coming once tonight? That's funny."

Satoru lets his head fall back against the pillow as another moan shakes from his throat. Suguru ignores the hand on his wrist and continues fucking Satoru, fingers thoroughly massaging his prostate. Satoru's legs are shaking so much, his cock aches and it misses Suguru's tongue, and he's beginning to see stars.

Suguru whispers in his ear, "Don't worry about any of that. I'll take care of you, princess.”

Just like that, Satoru is coming untouched. His ass clenches around Suguru's fingers while Suguru talks him through it, telling him what a good boy is, how pretty he looks like this, and how Suguru can't wait to fuck his perfect little ass. Satoru is already whining for it, anyway. He needs Suguru's cock deep inside him.

He needs it now.

Suguru doesn't make him wait for it. Satoru rolls over onto his stomach while Suguru slides a condom on. His limbs feel like jelly, his mind is hazy and there's a dopey grin on his face because… Satoru is happy. He's so fucking happy. He's still smiling as Suguru lifts his hips from the bed, presses the head of his cock against Satoru’s hole, starts to enter him and—

Shit.

Holy fucking shit.

Satoru feels like he's being split in half.

His body naturally tries to resist the intrusion, hips shying away from it but it's no use. Suguru keeps a tight hold on his hips, keeping him in place as that cock drives deeper into him at a snail's pace. Satoru doesn't know if going so slow makes it worse, if maybe they just need to get it over with like ripping off a bandaid by having Suguru snap his hips forward instead. But it's so overwhelming, Satoru can hardly find the words to speak. He barely even breathes.

“Breathe,” Suguru reminds him. He leans down to press comforting kisses into Satoru's trembling back. “Need me to wait? I can. Tell me what you need.”

Satoru allows his lungs to be refilled with air. He pants a few times, face half-buried in the sheets, and the arrogant part of his mind suddenly takes over. He shakes his head, refusing the offer. He's been waiting for this day for eons, it's his God-given right to take Suguru's cock and he's not going to chicken out now from a bit of discomfort. 

No, he can take it.

He'll take Suguru's cock better than anyone else ever has.

It's his natural competitiveness that fuels Satoru, in the end. He tells himself that he's the perfect bottom for Suguru and that everyone else he's fucked in the past could never compare to Satoru. He's just that good. He reaches behind himself, grabs the back of Suguru's thigh, and pulls him in deeper. Satoru groans as his body accommodates both length and thickness, and when Suguru finally bottoms out, Satoru briefly wonders if his body will ever go back to normal after this.

“Fuck me,” he begs, loud and shamless while fisting the sheets by his head. “Fuck me, Suguru…”

Suguru fucks him.

It's like nothing that Satoru has ever experienced in his life. All that he can do is take it, accept the hard cock driving into him again and again without pause, piercing his sweet spot with every thrust. Satoru's knuckles turn white as he clenches the sheets, those sheets wet from drool and tears because he presses his face into them, trying to mask his sounds. It's pointless, though. He's being so loud and he can't help it. The only thing louder than Satoru is the sound of their skin slapping together each time that Suguru's hips pound against his ass.

Satoru can't keep his weight supported, his knees wobbling too much from the effort. He starts to slide down, but Suguru keeps a firm grip on him, hooks an arm around Satoru's waist and keeps fucking him, just like Satoru asked for. He kisses Satoru's back again, tells Satoru how beautiful he looks while taking Suguru's cock like this, how pretty his ass is.

Satoru comes without warning.

“Holy shit,” Suguru curses, pausing his movements for the first time since they began. “Coming again already?” He laughs, breathless. “Didn't know you were that shameless. So sensitive, too. How cute.”

Something about the condescending nature of his tone makes Satoru's eyes roll back in his head. He's still grinding his spent cock against the mattress, feeling wet and dirty and used. It's euphoric, in a way. He isn't given much time to recover, though. Suguru holds him down on the bed, a firm palm pressed flat against Satoru's back, and then he's fucking him again—not as fast, but just as intensely.

“Oh, fuck,” Satoru moans, his body shaking with every thrust. He's overstimulated. It's overwhelming. He doesn't know if he can take it. He might break. “S… Sugu… ah, p-please, I… I can't…”

“Shhh,” Suguru shushes him. He grinds into Satoru's ass without remorse. “You can do it. You will. You've taken me so well all this time… mm… I'm almost there.”

His praise echoes within Satoru's fucked-out mind and Satoru hyperfocuses on those words and the comfort that they give him, even as his body begs for a chance to rest. He'll take it because Suguru wants him to take it. Satoru will be good for Suguru, he'll be so good and Suguru will never want to have anyone else. Just Satoru.

Just him.

He knows it when Suguru comes, feels it in the way that his hips stutter and a long moan hails from his lips, breathy and satisfied. Suguru moaning has to be the sexiest thing that Satoru has ever heard in his life. It just sounds so real, not fake or suppressed like those actors in the porn videos that Satoru has never been able to get off to. The men in those videos never want to make enough noise or they try to sound way too masculine.

Not Suguru, though.

Suguru sounds beautiful.

He presses one last kiss into Satoru's back before pulling out. Satoru whines at no longer feeling full, his used hole clenching around nothing. In that short span of time, he's grown accustomed to having Suguru buried deep inside of him, right where he belongs, and Satoru doesn't want to lose that feeling so soon.

However, Suguru only shushes him again. There's a bit of movement, the sound of something being opened, and a few seconds after that, he's caressing one of Satoru's abused ass cheeks.

“Turn over, ‘Toru.”

It takes quite a bit of effort, but Satoru eventually does as he's told. He rolls over to face the ceiling, and then Suguru reappears in his field of vision and the look of him takes Satoru's breath away. His face is flushed, sweaty, his hair in complete disarray. Satoru rarely ever gets to see Suguru in his natural state. No, Suguru always has to be so perfect, with his gorgeous hair styled neatly away from his face, his clean-shaven chin, his facial piercings, his alternative fashion.

Right now, there's none of that. Just Suguru, with wild hair and flushed skin and sweat on his brow and fuck. Satoru really struck the jackpot with this one.

Suguru kisses him. Just once, just enough to have Satoru humming with delight and chasing that mouth for more, but then Suguru pulls back and says:

“You're gonna ride me now.”

Well, damn.

Looks like Satoru got his wish.

He allows Suguru to pull him up and guide him into his lap, mainly because Satoru's limbs still feel like noodles but also because he loves being manhandled by Suguru. It feels way too good, gives him the illusion of being so much smaller. Ironic, since Satoru always hated being so small when he was little. He used to go to bed every night and wish that he could grow up quickly, then Suguru would finally stop teasing him and the two of them would be able to get married, just like Suguru said that they would.

It's kind of concerning that Satoru has been deranged ever since childhood, but whatever. Point is, he loves being so tall now, but he also loves feeling like Suguru could snap him in half if he wanted to, and what makes it hot is that Suguru never would.

For now, Satoru straddles Suguru who sits cross-legged on the bed, and he lowers Satoru's hips down and gradually fills that warm hole with his cock again. Satoru releases a long sigh, feeling so satisfied now that he's no longer empty. It feels right to have Suguru inside of him, as if Satoru really was made for him and only him. But it's obviously the first time that Satoru is riding dick, and his first time controlling the pace of what they're doing, so he needs to be guided first.

“Just like that,” Suguru murmurs sweetly. His hands remain attached to Satoru's hips, guiding his every movement. He tilts his head up and smiles at Satoru, eyes turning into crescent moons. “Fuck. You're a natural.”

Satoru returns that smile with his own, lazy and half delirious from the overwhelming amount of pleasure and emotions.

"Am I... am I good?" he asks, desperate to be praised again. He needs to know that he's giving Suguru everything that he needs, needs to know that he's the only one who can do so. "I'm good for you?”

“The best,” Suguru tells him, because he knows exactly what Satoru wants to hear. “Fucking perfect, baby.”

The lazy grin on Satoru's face widens and the praise encourages him to pick up the speed of his hips. Now he's bouncing in Suguru's lap without a care in the world, because he's perfect and he believes it since Suguru says that he is. Suguru may tease him but he would never lie. Not to Satoru. 

It feels like he's already getting close again. Suguru's fingernails dig into Satoru's skin where he's tightly gripping his ass, while Satoru tangles his fingers in Suguru's messy hair and keeps bouncing despite the burning in his thighs. He can't stop, can't allow himself to stop. Not when it feels this good and Suguru keeps spurring him on.

“You wanna come again, princess?” Suguru asks. 

Satoru nods his head up and down. “C-Can I?”

Just to tease him, Suguru responds with a long hum instead of giving an answer. Satoru almost wants to cry. He never stops gyrating his hips, his skin hot and sweaty from the effort, his thighs still burning. He's so unbelievably close but he needs to be touched, he craves some release from the pressure in his cock that has become painful now. He's about to start begging when Suguru finally wraps a hand around him. Suguru strokes him only twice before Satoru cries out, instantly coming onto that fist and the skin of their bellies.

Satoru collapses against Suguru, completely spent. He turns into nothing but a big fuck toy, allowing Suguru to position him however he wants on the bed as Suguru chases his own release, hips grinding into Satoru's ass until he's finally satisfied. Unlike the first time, Suguru doesn't pull out of him as quickly. Satoru sleepily blinks at the ceiling. His mind feels incredibly fuzzy now, almost like he's drunk off the immense pleasure itself. He only briefly registers the feeling of Suguru kissing all around his face and Suguru asks if he's okay.

Satoru is more than just okay. He's never felt better. He firmly believes that what he feels right now is the pinnacle of what it means to truly be alive. Nothing else matters right now but Suguru and knowing that he's perfect for Suguru. This is all that exists for Satoru, currently.

Instead of turning those thoughts into words, what comes out of Satoru's mouth instead is a pleased hum. Suguru is smiling down at him now, so that must be the right answer anyway. Satoru is happy. He doesn't whine this time when Suguru carefully pulls out of his body, especially since Suguru remains close to him and Satoru can still feel his touch elsewhere. He stays close to Satoru even as he removes the dirty condom, ties it, then tosses it onto the floor to join the one from earlier.

Suguru reaches into the box near the pillow but apparently comes up empty-handed, because he clicks his tongue, disappointed.

“Shit. I used the last one.”

Even in his current state of mind, Satoru somehow finds the strength to roll his eyes after hearing that. His words slur a little when he opens his mouth to tease.

“You… only had two condoms left in the box? Wow, slut.”

He decides that the teasing comment was worth it, even though Suguru pinches his thigh and threatens to tickle him because he still laughs.

“It was a small box,” Suguru insists, rushing to defend his honor. “I also bought it ages ago and I always make sure to use one every time. Also, again, it's been quite a while since I have needed to use one and I forgot that I was running low, that's all.”

“It's fine,” Satoru says, hoping that Suguru will finally shut up about it. “You don't gotta defend yourself to me, I was just kidding. You've used one every time, though, right?”

Suguru firmly nods. “Of course. Always.”

“Okay. We can do it without one, then. If you want to. I wouldn't mind…”

Suguru only stares at first, brows rising in surprise. “Are you sure?”

Now Satoru nods, but he looks off to the side, suddenly embarrassed. “Yeah. I trust you. And… it's your birthday, so… you can do whatever you want with me.”

He hopes that he isn't being too cheesy. He tells himself that if Suguru dares make fun of him for this, he'll immediately retract the offer and Suguru can have fun fucking his own fist instead. Thankfully, it doesn't come to that. Instead of teasing him like a jerk, Suguru smiles really wide and kisses Satoru on the mouth. They kiss and kiss until Satoru gets that drunk feeling again, but without any of the negative sensations that always comes with being actually drunk.

Suguru only pulls away long enough to find wherever the bottle of lube got shoved aside during all of this. Satoru lifts his heavy head from the pillow to watch and that's when he sees it, the most shocking revelation of all.

“What the hell is that?” he asks, and his surprised squeak startles Suguru, making him accidentally squeeze too much lubricant and the excess drips down his groin and onto the sheets.

“What the hell is what?” 

“That! On your dick. Do you… seriously have a dick piercing?”

Suguru glances down at himself as if forgetting that the bold piercing even exists. He tilts his head to the side, confused by Satoru's dramatic reaction. He looks at Satoru again and shrugs.

“Yes?”

Satoru can't stop staring at the two shining balls along the underside of Suguru's cock, right beneath the head. He narrows his eyes, wondering if it's fake. It can't be real, right?

“Since when did that get there?” he asks next.

Suguru has the nerve to laugh at him. “What do you mean? It's been there the whole time. You sayin’ that you haven't noticed? Like, at all?”

Honestly, Satoru hasn't noticed a single thing. To be fair, he hasn't really looked at Suguru's cock since they began and it's terribly ironic, given how badly he used to fantasize about what it looked like and how it would feel inside of him. Maybe he just got too carried away. He's been so content with simply laying back and letting Suguru take care of things, and he assumes he didn't feel it that much because of the condoms. 

Yeah, that has to be the reason, rather than Satoru's simple lack of observation.

He shakes his head and Suguru laughs again, though much softer this time. “Wow. And here I was thinking that you just weren't that impressed by it. You wound me, Satoru. This piercing is, like, my entire personality.”

Satoru rolls his eyes so hard it's a miracle they don't pop out of his skull. He can agree with that statement, though. A pierced dick is exactly what Suguru is, there's no doubt about that. Satoru starts wondering again if he really does have some type of pain kink, because who can justify getting a piercing in a place like that without being even a little bit freaky? 

It really is impressive.

“You better let me suck you off later,” Satoru says, his tone as demanding and spoiled as ever. He pushes his lewd thoughts to the side for now and adjusts himself against the pillows, getting comfortable again. “Fuck me first, though. I wanna feel it.”

Suguru's reaction to all of that is delayed, but then he snorts and repositions himself in between Satoru's spread legs, hovering over him. Like this, his long hair cascades down the sides of his face and Satoru feels surrounded by him, completely engulfed. He can only see and feel and smell Suguru, only Suguru, just like he's always wanted. 

“I'll do whatever I want, actually,” Suguru replies, voice low and teasing just like his cock against Satoru’s used hole. He rubs the head of it against the rim and Satoru squirms, sensitive and thinking only of the piercing. Above, Suguru's grin widens and he adds, “It's my birthday.”

Satoru opens his mouth to argue, but then he feels it—he feels everything. Suguru is back inside of him as if he never left, bare cock buried deep in Satoru's ass, all the way to the hilt. It's overwhelming after everything they've just done together, but even if Satoru feels exhausted, he craves every second of this feeling. It's the feeling of Suguru stretching him open, using his body, and pleasing him all at the same time. Satoru just can't get enough of it.

When Satoru's mind reminds him of the fact that, technically, this is Suguru's first time doing it like this—raw, with nothing separating the two of them—he instantly obsesses over the thought. He finally gets to have one of Suguru's first times. Satoru does, no one else. He's the only one who gets to feel Suguru's bare cock and that insanely hot piercing fucking his wet heat with every thrust.

Satoru wears the biggest smile on his face while getting fucked senseless. He clings to Suguru's shoulders the whole time and Suguru remains pressed close for the duration of it, neither of them willing to part for even a moment. Suguru breathes heavily into Satoru's ear, whispering things that Satoru can't even comprehend right now, but he knows those words are filled with love and that's all that matters.

It's basically inevitable when Satoru starts to feel overwhelmed first. It's so hard for him to last a long time when he's doing this with Suguru, and it doesn't even seem to matter that he's come several times already. He can't keep his sanity with Suguru consistently fucking his sweet spot and making Satoru see stars again. So, as much as he wants to hold off, he's not sure he'll be able to.

“Hah. S-Suguru…” Satoru whines and claws at Suguru's back, his nails raking along his shoulder blades. He moves one of his hands to the space in between their bodies, needing to touch himself to relieve the overwhelming pressure. He mewls, “I… coming…”

“No. Not yet.” Suguru doesn't let him get very far. He suddenly removes Satoru's hand from his swollen cock and pins it to the mattress instead. “Not until I do first.”

Stunned by the sudden rejection, Satoru gapes at him. He really didn't expect to be denied, and now the pressure is building up too much and he can't take it anymore. He really can't.

“But—”

“Shhh.” Suguru shushes him with a wet kiss, sloppy and with lots of tongue, that piercing tickling him as always. He mutters against Satoru’s trembling lips, “You can wait for me, can't you? I know you can, so just wait.”

But Satoru doesn't know if he really can wait. The arousal in his gut wants to be released so badly and the pleasure is starting to turn into pain. A painful pleasure, if that exists. He still wants to be good for Suguru, though. It's the only thing that he wants right now, maybe even more than an orgasm, but it's still too much and Satoru starts to cry. He doesn't want to cry, but he can't help it as the tears fall down the sides of his flushed face.

Suguru kisses away the tears as they come. His hips never stop driving forward with that same goal in mind, but he kisses Satoru so gently in comparison to his harsh thrusts. Somehow, it helps. It doesn't seem like it should be that easy, but it really is because Satoru starts to feel a little calmer from the countless kisses placed into his skin.

“‘Toru… ‘Toru, ‘Toru.” Suguru chants the nickname like a mantra, that beloved nickname that only he is allowed to use and no one else. His bangs stick to his sweaty forehead and his eyes are wide as he stares down into Satoru's, like he's enchanted by him, too. “You're so… fucking perfect for me… only you. My 'Toru.”

Hearing that makes Satoru cry again, for some reason. He cries and laughs at the same time, feeling so out of his mind but in a good way. The best way. 

"I'm gonna come in you,” Suguru announces. He says it like it's already been determined since long ago, like he woke up this morning with the full intention of breeding Satoru's virgin ass. He still ends up asking, "It's fine, right...? You'll let me?”

All that Satoru can do is react with a shaky nod.

Apparently, that's not good enough.

"Say it, then." Suguru squeezes Satoru's hand that's still pinned to the mattress. He stares into Satoru's eyes the entire time. "Wanna hear you say it. Tell me... to come in you."

Satoru's mouth hangs open but the words don't come out right away. How can he focus on speaking when all that he wants to do is scream? It's like he barely even knows his own name right now. 

Even so, Suguru fucks him harder and demands, "Tell me, 'Toru."

"Come… in me," Satoru finally forces the words through his teeth. Now that he's managed to say it once, he practically starts to beg for it. "Please... come in me, come in me, come in me—”

Suguru finally gives it to him, hips snapping forward one final time and then he keeps himself there, buried deep inside, cock throbbing as he fills Satoru to the brim. Satoru is certain that he blacks out at some point. One moment he can feel hot cum shooting deep within and he comes as well, a dry orgasm that leaves him feeling like he's transcended into another plane of existence. The next moment, everything is so much calmer, Suguru is kissing him all over and he asks how Satoru feels, says something about wanting to clean him up and make him drink water. 

Satoru doesn't know what he says to that, if he says anything at all, but he clings to Suguru and refuses to let him go. So, in bed is where they remain for the time-being, curled up in each other's arms and happily content.

***

Everything hurts and all of it is Suguru's fault.

When Satoru awakens a few hours later, it's blissful at first. He's exhausted, but he wakes up surrounded by Suguru's scent and Suguru's warmth and Suguru's everything, it's so much better than Satoru used to imagine when all that he had was an intense crush and constant yearning. He takes a moment to press the duvet into his face and inhales deeply. It smells like sex and Suguru. The most satisfied smile instantly takes over Satoru's face.

And then the pain comes shortly afterwards. Most of it is in his stomach. He's incredibly hungry when he remembers that they skipped dinner to fuck all evening and Satoru never got a chance to taste any of it. Since Suguru had said that they'd eat it later, Satoru tries to wake him up, but Suguru just doesn't budge. He hums a few times and when Satoru keeps bothering him, he rolls over and mumbles that he'll definitely get up to feed Satoru soon, only if he stops being a brat.

It's the most offensive thing that Satoru has ever heard, especially after giving the bastard the best birthday gift in all of existence. Satoru declares that he'll never let Suguru touch his ass ever again.

After making the choice to heat up the food and eat all of it himself, Satoru gets out of bed and almost immediately falls to the floor. This is where the rest of the pain comes in. His ass is sore as can be and the muscles in his legs can barely support his weight at first. He has to wobble into the kitchen a certain way or else the soreness becomes too much and he's forced to pause while leaning against the wall.

This sucks.

Suguru is so dead to him.

By the time that Satoru makes it to the kitchen and begins searching for a pot to reheat the soup, he's twice as hungry now and it's making him cranky. He's just glad that the noodles and the soup were packaged in separate to-go containers, otherwise having extra soggy noodles would've pissed him off even more. While Satoru waits for the soup base to warm up again, he snacks on the emergency stash of cookies that he keeps in the apartment for times like this.

Yes, Satoru keeps extra snacks stashed in Suguru's apartment and, yes, Suguru is aware of this. It's necessary, though. Suguru doesn't keep enough sweets around and Satoru needs access to snacks wherever he is, so whenever he spends the night at the apartment, he'll never have to worry about being unable to satisfy his sweet tooth. As long as he restocks his emergency stash when it starts to get low, he never runs into any issues.

The soup is finally starting to warm up when the sound of light footsteps enter the room.

“You burnin’ down my kitchen, ‘Toru?”

Satoru automatically turns his head at the sound of Suguru's voice. Suguru comes into the kitchen shirtless and wearing dark baggy sweatpants, his hand scratching the back of his head and a lazy grin on his frustratingly beautiful face. He doesn't look at all apologetic for making Satoru suffer like this. He probably isn't even aware of his crimes, completely ignorant of the damage that he's caused. It would be quite fitting if that were the case. 

With his cheeks still full of cookies, Satoru swallows the food down and responds sassily, “If I was, I'd make sure you were burning with it.”

It annoys him that Suguru only chuckles at the threat, hardly intimidated. He's always been like this, though, ever since they were little. Satoru will very seriously threaten his life and Suguru will laugh and call him cute for doing so. Then, he'll usually find something random to bully Satoru about. It's a vicious cycle that may never come to an end.

Ignoring those words and Satoru's irritation, Suguru walks over and grabs Satoru's sore hips like he owns them, and then he's placing soft kisses into Satoru's lightly bruised neck. Suguru had removed the choker for him shortly before Satoru had fallen asleep earlier. It should be pathetic how quickly Satoru almost forgets his prior anger. He actually has to force himself to resist, just for the sake of being stubborn. He doesn't want to make it too easy for Suguru.

“Don't touch me,” Satoru grumbles. He shrugs his shoulders and makes a weak attempt at stepping away from Suguru's greedy hands, but to no avail. “You're banned from touching me for at least, like, a whole day.”

“Hm?” Suguru continues kissing him anyway, fingers kneading his hips now. It feels good. Satoru's resolve starts to crumble rapidly. “Why's that?”

“Because…” Satoru loses his train of thought as soon as that first word leaves his lips. His eyes flutter shut and he sighs, enjoying the feeling of Suguru's mouth on him. He stubbornly tries speaking again. “Just… because.”

“I see,” Suguru replies, laughing at him again. One of his hands slides up the bottom of the shirt that Satoru is wearing, having stolen one from the dresser shortly before his slow journey into the kitchen. “You're so cute, ‘Toru… you really like wearing my things, huh?”

As Suguru's hand caresses his lower belly, Satoru leans back into the touch, giving in at last. He figures that there's no point in trying to fight it. After all, it's still his God-given right to have this—all of this. He's been so patient and for so long, he should just enjoy things now that he finally has what he's always wanted.

For now, he'll suck it up and deal with the soreness.

“Mhmm,” Satoru answers quietly. “I like… the smell of them. I like smelling like you.”

Something unknown must possess Satoru all of a sudden to get him to admit that, but he doesn't even feel embarrassed by it in the slightest. There's no reason to keep it a secret anymore. Now, it's just a simple fact of life. Suguru's natural scent smells good and it comforts Satoru just as much as it makes him horny, too. There's nothing wrong with that.

Once Suguru is satisfied after messing with Satoru like this, he replaces his hands along Satoru's hips and simply clings to him now. It's actually quite cute. Satoru never knew that he could be so clingy. Satoru has been clinging to Suguru for basically his whole life so far and now Suguru is finally allowing himself to do the same. It almost feels like a dream.

“You always smell so good, too, though. Like, it's kind of a sweet scent,” Suguru explains. Satoru listens closely, awed. But then that soft grin turns mischievous, just as always. “Makes sense. You are a princess, after all.”

Fed up with the constant teasing, Satoru wiggles away from that jerk's hold and goes back to focusing on the soup. He pretends that he can't hear Suguru's annoying laughter. Now that they're dating, he should probably consider setting a few boundaries, like only allowing the princess nickname when they're in bed, or Suguru giving him complete freedom to roam his closet and wear whatever smells the best.

Just simple things like that shouldn't be too much to ask for, Satoru thinks.

"Do you really hate it that much?" Suguru asks. “Being called a princess, I mean. I'll stop if you tell me to.”

Satoru doesn't have to consider an answer to that. He shakes his head without hesitation and quietly admits, "I don't... I don't actually hate it. I just like it a lot more when you call me 'Toru, ‘cause… that's our thing, y'know?”

Suguru hums, says, "Really?"

“Mhmm.”

"Okay.” Suguru agrees with that almost too easily. He almost sounds a little excited now, too. He asks next, "What about Princess 'Toru, then?”

Satoru grabs a handful of Suguru's hair and yanks on it.

It's definitely worth it, despite the harsh smack on his bottom that he receives as punishment.

***

Satoru is still bouncing with energy when they leave the venue.

Tonight's show was exactly what he's been needing after countless hours of studying for the past few weeks. His exam is coming up in a few days from now and he's not even stressed about it. Satoru is just relieved that he's almost crossed the finish line. Once all is said and done, he'll be able to spend even more time with Suguru and maybe they can attend more punk shows like this one. He's really starting to love them a lot.

“We should start our own band,” Satoru announces all of a sudden. He spins around to gauge Suguru's reaction, grinning eagerly. “You still remember how to play the bass, right? We just need to recruit someone to be the drummer.”

Suguru reacts with a snort, though he's quick to entertain the idea. “And what instrument will you play?”

“The guitar, obviously. I'll be the vocalist and the lead guitarist, it just makes sense that way.”

“Mm, right. The instrument that you have no idea how to play.”

“So? I can learn. Not like it's hard.”

This time Suguru laughs outright while shaking his head at such a bold statement. Satoru wasn't trying to be funny, he's just so sure that he wouldn't have an issue picking up such a hobby. He's naturally gifted at most things, anyway. He still laughs when Suguru laughs, though, and the smile remains glued to his face when Suguru takes his hand and intertwines their fingers.

“Let's talk about it more at home,” Suguru suggests. “You're spending the night, right?”

Suguru does absolutely nothing to hide his true intentions, given that it's so obvious in his tone and the way that he squeezes Satoru's hand in his own. If not for the fact that Satoru so badly wants the same thing, he would've gotten secondhand embarrassment from the guy. Thankfully, both of them are equally as shameless and addicted to each other, and after such a perfect night out together, why wouldn't they end it in the best way possible?

It just makes sense to devour each other whenever they can.

“Of course,” Satoru replies. “Where else would I go?”

A familiar voice from behind interrupts whatever Suguru had planned to say. 

“Suguru?”

Satoru's stomach is instantly filled with dread while his heart fills with disdain. No, disgust. He wishes that they could just keep walking until they reach the motorbike, but they turn around as Mahito approaches with a surprised look on his face and curiosity in his eyes. They haven't seen each other since the previous show that Satoru attended, the one where Mahito had revealed certain things to him near the bathrooms.

In all honesty, Satoru has been hoping that he'd never have to see this guy again, but he's reminded once more that attending these events is all that Mahito seems to do, anyway. 

Attend shows, get drunk, and harass people for no reason.

That's basically his entire personality summed up.

Mahito speaks before they can properly react to his unwanted presence. “You didn't tell me you were going to this show, too! How come I wasn't invited? Where's everyone else? You two came alone? Huh, figures. He's still totally obsessed with you.”

Satoru's empty hand twitches with the urge to react violently. It still takes a lot of effort to hold himself back sometimes, but he would really prefer not to get involved in such things that can be easily avoided. He'll only resort to breaking necks if the moment calls for it. This is what it means to be a mature adult man, after all. 

Next to him, Suguru releases a tired sigh. “What do you want, Mahito? I've already told you that I don't want to hang out with you anymore, and neither does anyone else.”

Mahito laughs. “Yeah, I know, but it's not like you haven't said that before. So, you two fucking now?”

Mature adult man. Mature adult man.

Satoru repeats this to himself within his mind to stay calm, cool, and collected. He knows that Mahito is just jealous and that he's probably always been jealous of one or both of them. He's just a chaotic individual with poor control over his mouth and his emotions, so his rudeness is basically inevitable. He's a lost cause.

Even so, Satoru can't resist saying, “Mind your business, scarecrow. We're done with you, so, bye.”

“Wow!” Mahito gasps, “I didn't know your dog could talk, Sug—”

His words are cut off when a fist connects with his face all of sudden. Satoru watches it unfold in slow motion. Suguru punches Mahito so hard that he stumbles backwards, trips, and falls to the concrete beneath them. The shock in his eyes is priceless. He reaches up to cover his bleeding nose as red begins to drip down his face and onto his shirt.

“You're not allowed to talk to him like that,” Suguru explains, as simple as that. What makes it even sexier in Satoru's opinion is that he still speaks so calmly, never raising his voice, but his wrath is easily visible behind his eyes. “Apologize to Satoru. Go on.”

Mahito hasn't made a sound since falling onto the ground. Satoru has seen him being hit before and he had easily recovered that time, but maybe Mahito just never expected to get hit by Suguru in particular. Bright red blood still drips through his fingers and he looks like he wants to say something else entirely, but he changes his mind at the last second. It's probably the only time he's ever made a wise decision in his life.

“Sorry.”

Given what this current situation must look like from the outside—two guys standing over a third one who's been knocked to the ground and is still bleeding—a small crowd of onlookers begins to form. They're still too close to the entrance of the venue, most of the attendees are still leaving and the venue's security staff must be roaming the area, too. Given all of these factors, Suguru takes Satoru by the hand again, thinking the same thing, and then they're running before anyone else can notice them.

Satoru starts giggling so much that it's hard to breathe, especially while running. He can't believe that Suguru just punched the shit out of Mahito and he did it without warning, too. Meanwhile, Satoru had been trying so hard not to do the same thing. He wanted to seem mature and cool in front of Suguru, so it's hilariously ironic that Suguru is the one who lost his cool.

Fuck. Satoru loves him so much that it's insane.

He'll definitely have to text the group chat about this as soon as possible.

They reach the motorbike in no time. Satoru turns his head around and feels relieved to see that no one has followed them. When he turns towards the bike again, Suguru hands the white helmet to him and the smile on his face is just as wide as Satoru's is.

“Let's go home,” Suguru repeats. “Hurry, hurry.”

Satoru laughs again and quickly hops onto the back of the motorbike. As he clings to Suguru's waist, he soaks in the feelings of being high and mighty and happily spoiled.