Chapter Text
Three Months Later
“It feels so empty.”
It’s not the best word to describe it, Suguru thinks, when he looks around his apartment. All the same furniture is there, the couch and dining table and bookcases. It shouldn’t feel as different as it does.
But Mimiko’s books are gone. Nanako’s sewing machine isn’t on the table, a half-finished project left in a pile to the side. The only shoes in the genkan are his and Satoru’s, the only coats.
“I felt the same when Tsumiki first moved out,” says Satoru, with a sympathetic squeeze of his hand. “It’s harder when it’s the girls that go.”
Suguru nods absently, still looking around the room.
“I’ve never lived on my own before,” he says.
He hasn’t, not in any real way - his parents, in that boring old village.
Satoru, boarding together through their three years of high school, and then Satoru again, when they’d shared a flat for that first year of college.
Nanako and Mimiko, for more than ten years.
“I don’t think I’ll be much good at it,” he says, and maybe there’s a bit more sadness in his voice, when he glances around the living room one more time.
Satoru’s hands creep beneath the edge of his shirt, so he can touch the smooth skin of his stomach.
“In my whole life, I’ve lived alone twice,” he says, thoughtfully. “For four months, after you left, before I took in Megumi and Tsumiki. And right now.”
“Is it as terrible as I imagine?” Suguru asks, turning to face him. He’s a nicer sight than the apartment, with all its missing touches.
“Depends on who you ask,” says Satoru. Then he leans into Suguru’s space and smiles. “You know, now that Nanako and Mimiko have moved into their dorm, and Megumi’s living with Yuji...”
“Mm?”
“Well, we’re both living in places too big for just one person.” His eyebrows twitch, and he gives a small, unbothered shrug. “It just doesn’t seem very efficient.”
Suguru bites his lip, trying to keep his face straight.
“Satoru, can I move in with you?” he asks.
Satoru’s hands grab more solidly at his waist.
“Yes. Fuck. I thought you’d never ask,” he says, shoving in until they’re pressed up against the living room door frame. “Let’s get married, too.”
Suguru laughs, more delighted than genuinely shocked, in a way that has Satoru beaming sheepishly.
“We can get married,” he says, easily, brushing his thumbs over Satoru’s throat. “Whenever you want.”
Satoru ducks his head. His cheeks have gone a pretty shade of pink, glimpsed only for a moment before he drops his face against Suguru’s shoulder.
“I didn’t think you’d actually say yes,” he says, weakly. “That’s not how I wanted my proposal to go.”
“Shall we pretend this conversation didn’t happen, then?” Suguru asks, grinning stupidly. He sinks his hand through Satoru’s hair, massaging soothingly. “Go back to the beginning?”
“Absolutely not!” Satoru shouts, rising to give him an affronted look. “You might not say yes next time.”
Suguru scoffs. “As if I wouldn’t,” he says, amused. “We’ve been practically married since we were sixteen. Ten-year divorce notwithstanding.”
“That wasn’t a divorce,” says Satoru, clinging to him. “That was just an intermission.”
“An intermission?”
“You know, a hiatus.” He presses in closer, nuzzles his nose against Suguru’s cheek. “I always knew we’d find each other again.”
Suguru blinks. Inexplicably, his heart pangs with painful, daring affection,
“Fuck, Satoru,” he laughs, rather watery, as his eyes start to sting. “Were you always this sentimental?”
“Um, yes?” Satoru pulls back to smile warmly at him. “You should know that by now. I literally just said we should get married after you asked to move in with me.”
Suguru hums.
They both lean in at the same time, wanting to be closer.
“So?” Satoru asks, licking his lips and grinning. “You better call your landlord.”
“I’ve already spoken to her,” Suguru says, entirely unembarrassed. “I told her I wanted to cancel my lease the moment Megumi moved out officially.”
Satoru blinks at him. “And you said I was sentimental,” he says, teasingly, even though he too looks distinctly teary-eyed.
“I have until the end of the month to have my things out,” Suguru tells him.
“What if I said no to you living with me?”
“There was literally no chance of that,” says Suguru, without any doubt. “You’ve said more than once you wanted us to live together. And you did just ask me to marry you.”
“That’s not my official proposal,” Satoru says, ignoring the first remark. He fiddles with Suguru’s ear piercing, not looking at him. “I’m going to do it properly.”
“Not if I do it first,” Suguru counters.
Satoru beams at him like he wouldn’t mind at all, if Suguru beat him to it. He presses his palm to his throat, keeping him pinned to the doorframe.
“I love you,” he says. “My one and only.”
Suguru looks at him with everything he has.
“I love you too.”
There was never any choice.