Archive of Our Own ^beta

The awareness comes on the first official friend group movie night. They hold it at Satoru and Suguru’s apartment because it has the most space – because Satoru’s family pays for most of it – and because it has the best tv, with the largest screen size and highest resolution – because Satoru’s parents also bought it. They have the best snacks because Satoru’s sweet tooth likes to keep their cupboards stocked, and Suguru likes to cook so they never have to spend too much money on delicious meals. All in all, it’s the perfect place for movie night. 

They have their popcorn and candy. They have their blankets and fuzzy pajamas. They’re all set up, the lights are dim, and they get into position. Satoru seats himself right next to Suguru on one of the couches, pressing into his side. He leans his head onto Suguru’s shoulder, legs tucked underneath, and Suguru wraps an arm around him, holding him close. He’s comfortable. He’s warm. They watch movies like this all the time in the tranquility of their own home, in each other’s space, close enough that you can barely tell where one person starts and the other ends. 

Everyone is staring at them. Shoko has a look of resigned exasperation. Mei Mei looks amused, almost predatory, and Utahime looks disgusted. Nanami’s face is contorted into something akin to annoyance, and Haibara – bless him – is the only one who looks truly happy, wearing a huge, enthusiastic grin.  

“Congratulations!” Haibara says with all the fervor of a kid whose sibling just won a gold medal. “I’m so glad you guys figured it out!” 

“Yeah, only took you like, three years,” Shoko scoffs, sitting back against the chair arm and crossing her legs. Her fingers twitch, itching for a cigarette.  

“And when did this recent development happen, hm?” Mei Mei purrs, leaning forward. 

It’s a completely unexpected reaction. Satoru has absolutely no idea what any of them are even talking about, but they’re all staring at him with varying levels of curiosity. 

He doesn’t bother to lift himself off Suguru when he asks, “What’re you talking about?”  

“You and Suguru?” Shoko says, indicating to the two of them with one hand and popping a piece of candy into her mouth with the other. “You’re dating?” 

They’re not, though, and when Satoru turns up to look at Suguru, Suguru is looking back down at him as well, his mouth pulled into a confused frown. Suguru shrugs, unconcerned. 

“We’re aren’t” he says, coolly, like the idea doesn’t faze him, isn’t wildly unthinkable. They’re just friends, after all. 

Collectively, the group groans, the noise rumbling through the apartment. All eyes are on them, observant and deliberating, and Satoru tries not to falter under their gaze. He squirms in his seat and tries to push himself more into Suguru. 

“Do you just ... always sit like that?” asks Haibara, sprawled out on the floor next to Nanami, whose steely look of annoyance has morphed closer to disbelief and disgust. Satoru would laugh if he weren’t so confused.  

“Uh, yes?” Satoru replies. “Should we not?” 

“No!” Utahime says. “No, you shouldn’t! Look at how you’re sitting! That’s how lovers sit.” 

Suguru’s arm doesn’t move from where he has it on Satoru’s waist, but he does have that shit eating grin on his face that Satoru knows means he’s about to be in trouble. 

“We sit like this all the time,” Suguru says, and he readjustments them, manhandling Satoru so that he’s sitting on Suguru’s lap. His left side is pressed against Suguru’s right, and Suguru wraps an arm around Satoru’s waist, keeping him steady. “Better?” 

“That’s worse and you know it!” Utahime screeches. 

“Poor Utahime,” Satoru mocks. “She’s never had a boyfriend or a best friend, so she doesn’t know what it’s like to be close with someone.” 

“With an attitude like that, no wonder people don’t like her.” 

“She’s so lucky she has us to teach her. 

“Gojo, you little –“ Utahime lunges for him, but Satoru dodges, gleefully laughing as Utahime somehow hits the couch cushions instead. She chases him around the living room, although Satoru’s long legs give him an advantage in running away. In the chaos, he misses Shoko sticking her leg out and tripping him.  

He lands face first into Suguru’s chest, who’s caught him. 

“Okay, enough,” Shoko barks. “I want to watch this movie.” 

Satoru and Utahime return to their spots, Utahime grumbling about him under her breath. Satoru takes no mind and settles in next to Suguru. He pulls his favourite blanket, a thick wool one he’d gotten back in his first year, around him and Suguru. He sighs contently.  

“Okay but like, are you sure you aren’t accidentally dating or something?” Haibara starts. “Like, maybe you are but don’t know it?” 

Satoru scoffs. “I think I’d know if we were dating. Also, Suguru hooks up with strangers all the time. What kind of boyfriend would he be if he kept cheating on me” 

"Or so he claims.” Mei Mei says impishly. “You’ve never seen these hook ups before, right Satoru? Isn’t that weird?” 

"I ... guess?”  

"That’s because I never bring them home,” Suguru says in a tone that tells Satoru he’s explained this to her before. “We go back to their place and I leave.” 

“Wait, but you always come home at night,” Satoru says. “You never sleep over?” 

“Of course not. I have to come home to you, don’t I?”  

The group groans again. 

- 

Satoru plasters himself to Suguru’s back as he makes breakfast, wrapping his arms around Suguru’s middle and hooking his chin over Suguru’s shoulder to get a good look at the pancake he’s flipping. Suguru doesn’t even bother to take his eyes off the pan as he rearranges them to keep Satoru at his side, an arm sling around his waist while giving him more room to cook. Satoru presses himself closer into Suguru.  

"Oh, you are so disgusting,” Shoko says from the kitchen table, her head buried in her arms.  

“It’s too early for this,” Nanami grumbles, sipping from his mug of coffee.  

It’s the morning after, bright and early as the sun filters in through the sunlit windows of the apartment. They’d paused their movie so many times the night before, bickering and yelling over anything and everything, that by the time they’d actually finished it, it’d been too late for anyone to feasibly go home. 

They’d had an impromptu sleepover in the living room and now here they are, Suguru making them all breakfast while Satoru drapes himself all over Suguru. He thinks Mei Mei might still be asleep, but Haibara had gone out for his usual morning hot girl walk, and Utahime is currently in the shower. Shoko and Nanami are the only ones in the kitchen with them, judging eyes following their movements. 

Satoru’s not really sure why. It’s a sight they should be used to by now. 

Honestly, Satoru’s always been clingy.  

Half the time they go out, Satoru doesn’t even get his own chair, electing to sit in Suguru’s lap instead. He even remembers one time in particular when they were at the library, and he’d been sitting between Suguru’s open legs at he studied for one of his upcoming exams while Satoru played on his Nintendo Switch.  

Utahime had mimed throwing up when Suguru had squeezed his thigh as a warning, telling him to behave when Satoru had gotten them in trouble for playing his Nintendo Switch too loudly. 

When walking along busy streets, he’ll always grab onto Suguru’s thick biceps or lace their fingers together, careful not to get separated as one of them guides the other. He always leans into Suguru’s touch, finds solace in it, something familiar for him to cling to.  

Suguru always feels like home. 

They even sleep together at night, something that started way back in their first year. 

The first time it happened they’d fallen asleep together on the couch. Satoru had woken up well rested in the morning, only to realise the nightmares that usually plagued him hadn’t consumed him that night and that he’d actually gotten – well – sleep. He’d sought out Suguru’s presence the next night, and the sleeping together had never really stopped. 

It’s platonic, really, even when they’re cuddled together under the blankets. Their friends might think it’s weird, but if it makes sleeping easier, where’s the problem with that? And it’s not like they exclusively sleep together, although they seem to end the day together in Suguru’s bed more often than not, especially nowadays, even when Satoru hasn’t had a nightmare in over a year without Suguru around. 

“Are they seriously holding hands while cooking?” Utahime says, appearing in the kitchen with wet hair. Satoru looks down at where he’s now holding Suguru’s free hand with his own, rubbing a thumb over his knuckles just because, then back to Utahime, who looks like the girl from the grudge. 

He tells her this, followed by, “Holding hands feels good – not that you would know. No one wants to hold your hand.” 

Utahime starts yelling. Nanami sighs and leaves the room. 

- 

Weeks later and Suguru has a date. He doesn’t usually go on dates – he's more of a one and done, hook up at their house and leave kind of guy. Even if Satoru didn’t already know this information, Suguru has blatantly admitted to it a few times. He’s never really felt the need to date, too busy with school and Satoru, but like other guys their age, he still has needs. 

Suguru doesn’t usually go on dates, which is why it’s weird when he goes to coffee with this one guy he had a philosophy class with. And then one date turns into two, which turns into three, which turns into several more, and Satoru stops seeing him on Thursday nights, which is like, whatever. It’s not like they did much anyway. Sometimes they’d study, sometimes they’d get take out and play video games all night. Sometimes they’d do none of the above and spend hours doom scrolling, sharing funny tik toks with each other from opposite ends of the couch, ankles crossed together, soaking in each other’s presence. 

One time they were bored enough that they went through Utahime’s Instagram and commented on how ugly she looked in every single photo. She blocked them both for that. 

Satoru still falls asleep in Suguru’s bed, though. Every Thursday night without clockwork, he gets ready for bed as usual. He brushes his teeth, does his skincare routine and crawls into Suguru’s bed, playing on his phone until he’s exhausted. When he wakes, Suguru is there, curled up around Satoru like he’s some kind of body pillow, his phone plugged in next to Suguru’s and Satoru tucked in under the duvet. 

It’s nice that he remembers to do all that. 

So, Satoru doesn’t really mind that Suguru’s out dating, because that’s good for him. Even though Satoru kind of misses him, it’s not like he’s missing out on much. He doesn’t see Suguru as much on Thursdays, but Suguru still comes and sleeps with him and prevents the nightmares, and still makes him breakfast in the morning. He still allows Satoru to hug him from behind and be a general nuisance. He still leans into Satoru’s touch and scratches Satoru’s back whenever he asks, and touches his waist when moving past him in the kitchen, and squeezes his thigh when he drives, and ruffles his hair when he's being annoying. 

Nothing changes for months until Satoru finally meets Suguru’s boyfriend. 

- 

The annual summer fair is back in town, and Satoru wants to go. He wants to go every year, and Suguru always indulges him. Sometimes they go with their other friends, but it’s mostly just a Satoru – Suguru thing. This year, he goes with Suguru to meet Suguru’s boyfriend, because Suguru’s boyfriend also wants to go, and Suguru doesn’t want to go twice. He claims he doesn’t want to pay the entrance fee twice just to pay for Satoru’s gluttonous ass, and Satoru can’t really argue with that when he makes Suguru buy him all the fudge and cotton candy he wants. 

They also manage to drag Shoko with them, with Suguru eager for her to meet his boyfriend as well.  

His boyfriend is interesting. Shorter than Suguru – although that’s not exactly difficult to accomplish – with dark hair that he spikes up, sharp eyes, and a scar along the right side of his face. He’s somewhat lanky – more so than Satoru, in fact, and rather quiet. Torihisa Negi is his name, but he’s so boring that Satoru actively struggles to remember it. 

He met Suguru through a shared philosophy class and joined in on the group of friends Suguru has from said philosophy class. Satoru isn’t too fond of them, and he knows the feeling is mutual – he's accidentally insulted Miguel one too many times, and the man firmly ignores Satoru whenever he can.  

They’ve been walking around aimlessly, enjoying rides here and there under the heat of the sun.  Suguru’s boyfriend gives Satoru weird vibes, though, especially when Satoru crowds into Suguru's space to follow him between throngs of people, Shoko hot on their tail. Suguru’s hand is clasped in his boyfriend’s so Satoru makes sure to grab onto his other arm instead. This seems to annoy Suguru’s boyfriend, for whatever reason. Weird. 

“Suguruuuu,” Satoru trills, skipping over to one of the confectionary stands. “Buy me one of the caramel apples. Oooh, or a candy apple. No, maybe chocolate. What do you think? I want all of them.”  

Suguru chuckles, eyeing all the options with careful consideration. “You’re such a brat, Toru. You can’t have all of them. Tori, Shoko, you want any?”  

Both of them shake their heads no, because neither are them are sugar laden glutenous hummingbirds like Satoru is. Their loss, though. 

“Great, more for me then,” Satoru says. 

"You’re only getting one,” Suguru asserts. 

In the end, Satoru still ends up getting all three. Suguru has the vendor cut them all into slices so they can share amongst their friends, even when Shoko and Suguru’s boyfriend had said they didn't want any. Satoru, naturally, whines about this. 

“Here,” Suguru says, holding up a slice of the chocolate apple to Satoru’s mouth. Satoru doesn’t think about it, and lets Suguru hand feed him. “You could at least thank me.” 

“Thank you Suguruuu,” Satoru coos.  

Across from them at the table, Suguru’s boyfriend glares. Shoko pops a piece of apple into her mouth, watching them all with scrutiny.  

They stay late into the evening, waiting for the sun to go down so they can watch the sunset from the Ferris wheel at Shoko’s insistence. As it cools down, Satoru shivers. 

“I told you to bring a jacket,” Suguru lightly scolds, already tugging his off.  

“Why would I bring a jacket when I can borrow one of yours?” 

Suguru sighs, wrapping up Satoru in his jacket. He helps to hold it around Satoru’s shoulders as he puts his arms through the holes. It’s one of his favourites, Suguru’s black bomber jacket, and it smells just like his cologne. He leans into Suguru while waiting in line and shoves his cold hands under Suguru’s shirt. 

His boyfriend shoots him a weird look, but Satoru shrugs it off.  

"I told you to stop doing that,” Suguru chides, but makes no movement to stop him. His attention is quickly pulled away to a passing carnival-goer, gaze fixated on the giant apple plushie they’re holding.  

“Wow, look at that,” Shoko says, pointing. “What would you even do with that.” 

“Oh, I still have the banana one on my bed that Suguru got me last year!” Satoru recalls with a snap of his fingers. He’d made Suguru win it for him after he won their bet that Satoru would be better at the basketball toss, and Suguru had spent almost 16,000 yen on it.  

“And now you’ll always remember what a banana is,” Suguru snarks. 

“Shut up, Suguru. I know my fruits and vegetables.” 

He doesn’t notice Suguru’s boyfriend glaring at him again.  

- 

Utahime is screaming at him. 

He doesn’t know how the conversation started, but some time over the course of the hang out they had gone from sharing little pictures of memories, to specifically embarrassing ones of Utahime. Shoko’s hand is on her cheek as Utahime continues to screech in Satoru’s ears, trying to get him to stop and save her dignity. 

It’s a futile endeavor. Besides, he doesn’t know why he’s the bad guy when Suguru’s just as bad, pulling up photos of an orange haired Utahime when she’d fucked up an attempt to dye her hair, and then proceeded to give herself a bowl cut to distract from it at Suguru’s suggestion. 

Satoru had taken one good look at her and keeled over laughing. It’d been a bad few months for her. 

“Oh, here’s my favourite,” Satoru says, turning his phone to the group. Nanami, Haibara, and Mei Mei all lean in. “I think it was on Shoko’s birthday last year.” 

It’s a photo of Utahime drunk and passed out in a bathtub, drool pooled down the side of her face. There’s some kind of stain on her white blouse, and someone – Satoru himself, although he’s never going to admit it – has drawn a tiny dick in sharpie on her forehead. 

“Look at all that drool!” Satoru cackles, holding up his phone high as Utahime tries to jump for it. Hah, that’s what she gets for being short. “So undignified. No wonder you can’t get a date.” 

“ This again?” Utahime screeches. “I’m way likely to get a date that you are!” 

“No, you’re too old. You’re kind of an ugly hag now. Maybe if you didn’t waste your prime with such an ugly hair cut you could’ve been married by now.” 

Suguru chuckles, low and fond. It makes Satoru’s heart skip a beat. “That reminds me – I have a picture of you drooling, too, Satoru.” 

Satoru’s eyes go wide. He knows the picture Suguru is talking about. It’s recent, in fact, taken at the beginning of the school year when he’d fallen asleep at the kitchen table, cheek smushed against the wood and still holding his spoon up for whatever reason. It’s much less embarrassing than Utahime, but he still swipes for Suguru’s phone anyway. 

"Gimme!” 

"No.” 

He tackles Suguru before he can share his screen with everyone, and the two of them scramble onto the floor, wrestling each other in a flurry of flailing limbs. They push and pull, trying to find solid ground, grabbing at whatever they can. Suguru’s much stronger than him, but Satoru’s still taller, and he fights like his life depends on it. They knock into the table and in his periphery vision he sees Nanami stand up. 

By the time he manages to get the upper hand, Suguru is already laughing, struggling to catch his breath. Satoru rolls them over, snatching Suguru’s phone in the process.  

“Satoru,” Suguru gasps, reaching for his phone. He likes the way his name sounds coming from Suguru’s lips, and it momentarily distracts him before he realises he’s about to risk a scandalizing photo of himself. He holds Suguru’s phone above his head, straddling his hips and keeping him in place. He grins, triumphantly.  

“No way!”  

“Give it!” Suguru squeezes his hips, trailing his fingers up Satoru’s side to where he’s ticklish. 

Satoru squirms in his hold, is about to whine about unfair he's being, when he hears a throat clearing behind him. Satoru freezes. 

Oh, right, Suguru’s boyfriend is here. Between him going to the bathroom and returning, Satoru had straight up forgotten. The air turns to ice. 

“Can you please get off my boyfriend,” he says in an even yet stilted voice. 

“Of course,” Satoru says, reluctantly lifting off Suguru and dusting himself off. Suguru’s boyfriend comes to stand next to him and kneels by Suguru. 

“Here,” Satoru says, moving to help Suguru up, not noticing the way his hip bumps into Suguru’s boyfriend. Suguru’s boyfriend goes flying in the other direction, caught only by Haibara. 

“Uh, thanks,” Suguru says, turning to see Haibara already helping his boyfriend keep stable. He glares at Satoru like he’d insulted his mother or something. 

Weird. 

- 

It’s late when Satoru gets back from the library. 

Suguru is already at home, but what’s more surprising is that he’s not alone. He’s in the kitchen doing the dishes while his boyfriend offers to help, even though Suguru keeps waving him off because he’s a guest. Satoru enters just in time to see Suguru touch the small of his back, offering him a sweet smile. Satoru can’t stop staring at where his hand touches his boyfriend. 

He hadn’t realised Suguru would be home, let alone with his boyfriend. Last he’d checked, Suguru was out to dinner at some fancy Italian place his boyfriend wanted to check out. Why the hell was he at home doing the dishes that Satoru maybe sort of put off because he thought Suguru wouldn’t have come home to see them piled up in the sink just yet. 

“Oh, Satoru,” Suguru says, pleasant despite the fact that he’s doing Satoru’s chores. 

His boyfriend scowls. He’s been giving Satoru even weirder vibes lately, but now that he’s in their house for what Satoru thinks might not be the first time, he feels ... icky. Like somehow, his home has been compromised, leaving him open and vulnerable. 

Suguru doesn’t notice anything, still talking while Satoru sorts through his feelings. He picks at his nails. 

“I picked up some food for you at the restaurant,” Suguru is saying. He turns off the running water and quickly wipes down his hands. “There was an ‘Italian flag’ pasta that I thought you’d really like so I got it as takeout. It’s in the fridge, if you want it.” 

Satoru had already eaten on his way back from the library – some shitty fast-food burger that Suguru chastises him for, telling him to be healthier – but he’ll eat it for lunch tomorrow, thank you.  

He means to go to bed and give Suguru and his boyfriend some space – mostly because he doesn’t want to be around Suguru’s boyfriend – but Suguru invites him to join them in the living room. He ends up sprawled across Suguru’s lap on the couch in their usual spots, demanding that he scratch his back. 

Suguru’s boyfriend sits on the chair Shoko usually occupies. The odd looks from him go unnoticed.  

“Sure, Satoru,” Suguru easily agrees, and blunt nails reach underneath his shirt, lightly running his fingers along Satoru’s back. 

It feels good – so good. And it’s so late. He’s exhausted from a long day, comfortable next to Suguru, and beginning to feel sleepy, lulled to sleep by Suguru’s gentle voice and sweet ministrations. He feels his eyelids begin to close, and the next thing he knows, he’s hearing low voices whispering to one another. 

“Put him … bed,” Satoru hears one voice say as he slowly begins to wake. Whatever he’s sleeping on shifts, and then strong arms wrap around his waist and underneath his knees, lifting him – Suguru.  

“Isn’t … your room?” He hears another voice say. 

“... nightmares,” he catches Suguru say in his half-lucid state.  

“You sleep with him?” a screechy, annoying voice, clear as day. Suguru’s boyfriend, this time. 

The same two voices turn angry, a cacophony of low chatter as Satoru feels himself lowered into a soft, plush bed that’s somehow stiffer than he’s used to. It's cold, and if Satoru were more awake, he’d push himself up and curl around himself. Instead, gentle, calloused hands pull the covers over him and smooth his hair down. 

“Goodnight, Satoru.”  

- 

It takes Satoru several seconds to recognise the room he wakes up in: beige walls with a collection of digimon posters covering every inch close in on him, an itchy and uncomfortable blanket draped over him. There are no stupid posters of any alternative bands to be seen, and the light streams in from the east instead of the west. The side of the bed next to him is cold. 

He’s in his room with no trace of Suguru.  

Of course, it’s not like him and Suguru exclusively sleep together in his room, but they do more often than not. Waking up alone isn’t that strange, but not only does Satoru not remember putting himself to bed, he can’t even remember the last time he woke up alone.  

He rationalises that Suguru’s boyfriend must have stayed over, and that’s why he returned Satoru to his own room. Something in his stomach stirs and it makes him want to throw up. 

“Good morning,” Satoru yawns as he pads out barefoot into the kitchen where Suguru is already working on breakfast. He hugs Suguru from behind, arms looped around his waist, hooking a chin over his shoulder. 

Suguru stiffens beneath him, which is strange given that they’ve never shied away from each other’s touch before. Gently, Suguru pulls away, unlinking Satoru’s arms and placing them at his sides. Satoru hears himself make a displeased noise of contempt, something whiny that would usually have Suguru teasing him.  

“Satoru,” Suguru says softly. “You don’t need to drape yourself all over me every morning.” 

“But it’s cold!” Satoru whines.  

“Well, maybe if you wore slippers.” Suguru points at his bare feet, but it’s not his fault socks are uncomfortable, and his slippers keep disappearing, even though Suguru specifically got him a pair of Cinnamoroll slippers to wear when the weather cools down. 

It’s also not his fault that he runs cold and Suguru is such a goddamn furnace and so fun to steal heat from, either.  

"Look, I, um,” Suguru looks visible stressed now, jaw set tensely. He runs a hand through his hair, mulling over his words. A heavy weight drops in Satoru’s stomach but he’s not sure why. 

“We can’t do ... this,” he gestures between him and Satoru. “You touching me all the time. It makes Torihisa ... uncomfortable.” 

"Okay?” Satoru says flippantly, uncaring. “You touch me all the time, too. Who cares?” 

“He’s been observing our interactions and thinks, um, we have feelings for each other,” Suguru spills out. “I know, I know it sounds so stupid but remember when Utahime said we don’t act the way friends do?” Suguru pauses. “She might’ve been right.” 

Satoru makes a face. “When is Utahime ever right?” 

“Please, Satoru. I care about Torihisa and I want to make him happy. He doesn’t like it, and it’s not like it’ll affect our friendship, right?” 

Satoru scoffs, because even though he doesn’t give a shit about Suguru’s boyfriend, he does care about Suguru. “Yeah yeah, whatever, we can do that for your precious boyfriend. Although,” He grins impishly. “I guess I can see why he’d be concerned about me – I'm definitely a catch and everyone wants me, obviously.” At this, Suguru snorts. “But you? We live together. If I wanted you, wouldn’t I have tried something by now?” 

“That’s what I said, but he still wouldn’t budge.” 

“Whatever,” Satoru rolls his eyes. “I can stop sleeping with you or whatever, but I’m still sitting next to you on movie nights.”  

“Sure, Satoru.”  

- 

He can’t do it.  

Satoru has severely underestimated how much he and Suguru touch – between passing each other in the hall with a light hand on his waist or a tap on Suguru’s shoulder, being shoulder to shoulder on the couch, or even greeting each other with a hug, seeking out Suguru’s touch is instinctual, and not being able to do so is torture. All Satoru wants to do is reach out and feel his warmth. 

Draping himself all over Suguru in the mornings as he makes breakfast is a habit that he finds hard to kick. The first few times he’d hugged Suguru behind, Suguru had to gently shake him off and remind him of their agreement. Satoru knew, of course, but the reality still felt like a slap in the face. He knew Suguru was serious in theory, but maybe not in practice.  

At lunch the next day, he automatically moves to sit next to Suguru, who has to gesture him to sit across him instead, leaving room for Suguru’s boyfriend.  

The same week he’d kicked his legs into Suguru’s lap while lounging on the couch, and Suguru pushed his legs off him.  

So yeah, Satoru misses him and his warmth and more importantly, sleeping next to him. It’s strange, not being able to touch Suguru like he wants. 

And Satoru isn’t used to not getting what he wants, especially from Suguru. 

He doesn’t have nightmares, hasn’t since last year -- but he still tosses and turns in his sleep without Suguru’s pillowy chest to cushion his head at night, without Suguru’s scent and presence wrapping around him like a comforter. 

It comes to a point where he can’t help himself, stressed and tired and overwhelmed with work. Normally, he’d crawl into Suguru’s arms, and maybe they’d take a nap on the couch, but Suguru’s not here. Not like he’d allow it anyway, so he thinks maybe he’ll just take a little nap in Suguru’s room. Suguru’s room has the comfier bed and the darker walls and it’s just so perfect for napping because of the way the light comes in during the day.  

Satoru wakes up to yelling. 

“- In your bed!” a voice is saying, loud and shrill and grating Satoru’s ears. It’s coming from the living room. 

“Torihisa,” another voice – Suguru – says calmly. “I don't know if it’s escaped your notice, but I wasn’t home because I was in your bed.  

Satoru rolls over to look at his phone. Ugh, he must have been more tired than he thought, because he’d slept through the night. There are a few notifications from Shoko and Haibara that he ignores, and a couple missed calls and texts from Suguru wondering what he’s up to and if he’s alright and to remember to eat because he’s staying over at his boyfriend’s tonight. He stretches out his limbs like a cat and forces himself out of bed and into the cold air of the apartment. 

“But why was he in your bed when he has his own? Was he waiting for you? Because you still come home to sleep with him? You said you stopped.” 

Suguru sighs at the accusatory tone. “I don’t know, Tori. He’s sleeping, we can ask when he wakes up. Look, I even texted him I wasn’t coming home last night.” Suguru waves his phone in his boyfriend’s face. 

“You guys are loud,” Satoru says, rubbing away the goosebumps on his bare arms. “Didn’t know sleeping was such a controversial thing. I went into Suguru’s room to steal his phone charger because I couldn’t find mine, then got distracted and I guess I just fell asleep. Didn’t mean to, but I was exhausted.” 

He’s a liar. He’s such a fucking liar, and by the way Suguru raises his eyebrow, he knows Suguru knows he’s lying, too. Either way, this seems to placate his boyfriend, and his anger subsides, face relaxing into something less irate. 

Satoru thinks he might hate him. 

- 

If Satoru thought touching Suguru less was hard, hanging out with him less is even harder.  

Now that he's been caught sleeping in Suguru’s bed, it seems like Suguru’s put up some kind of wall. There’s more distance between them, and everything is weirder than usual.  

Somehow, he sees Suguru less. They live together, so they’d usually see each other all the time, but Suguru seems to stay at his boyfriend’s more frequently. It seems like it’s the new default.  

They text frequently, yet it’s less than before. He still texts Suguru his stream of consciousness throughout the day but receives short replies.  

Even when Suguru’s home, Satoru doesn’t see him as much. Suguru seems to spend more time in his room lately, closing his door and closing out Satoru. 

It’s weird, and it sucks, and Satoru misses Suguru a lot. Misses his touch and his laugh and his voice. His funny quips and his soft smile. The way he’d always make sure Satoru was fed. 

The worst is on their next movie night.  

To Satoru’s displeasure, Suguru’s boyfriend is invited – by Shoko, no less, the traitor – and Satoru is kicked off his prime spot on the couch next to Suguru to the floor. The carpet is uncomfortable and itchy, unlike the soft, luxurious cushions of their way too expensive couch.  

Satoru glowers, bottom half of his face hidden by the giant banana plushie he holds up. It’s the one that Suguru had won at the carnival that almost never leaves his bed. Now, though, Satoru cuddles up to it in place of Suguru, his feet cold despite wearing socks. 

Normally, he’d just shove them under Suguru, but Suguru is next to his boyfriend on the couch, curled up under Satoru’s favourite blanket.  

“Nanamiiiiiiiiin,” Satoru whines, trying to find some semblance of normalcy. “Cuddle with me.” 

“Not on your life.”  

Satoru pouts. 

He hears Suguru chuckle softly, but when he looks over at the other man, Suguru is rearranging them to be lying on the couch so that his boyfriend’s head is nestled on his chest. Satoru’s sitting against the couch where their feet are, and he’s almost kicked in the head. 

“Watch it,” he snaps, before turning towards the TV. He snatches one of the spare blankets – something thin that barely counts as one and doesn’t even keep him warm – and wraps it around himself and his stupid banana plushie, then hoards an entire bucket of popcorn to himself. 

Something vicious in him bursts. It should be him, he thinks, cuddled up next to Suguru on the couch. It should be him who gets to enjoy the nice spot on the couch, next to Suguru. It should be him underneath his favourite blanket with Suguru. 

It’s the thought that has him spiraling. He knows he’s selfish. He knows he’s spoiled. He’s never cared about his flaws until their first year, where he’d thrown such an explosive tantrum that genuinely upset Suguru so much he hadn’t talked to Satoru for almost two weeks. 

That was back before they lived together. That was back before Satoru knew that Suguru was his person.  

Those feelings bubble up, the desire to lash out at Suguru’s boyfriend and scream at him. He wants to keep Suguru and his kindness all to himself. But he knows what’ll happen – knows he can’t feel this way, and the fact that he does eats him from the inside. 

Satoru begins to spiral, and he feels so ridiculously guilty that he stands up and makes his way to bed. 

“Satoru? Where are you going?” Nanami asks, uncharacteristic concern laced in his voice. 

“Mm tired,” is all Satoru gives, hoping no one sees the fat tears beginning to spill. He’d already thrown a temper tantrum because he didn’t want Torihisa to join them, and then when he’d finished the last of his favourite gummies. He can’t let his friends – Suguru, especially – know he’s about to have another one. 

He sobs when he gets in bed, face buried in the stupid banana plush. 

- 

Satoru hasn’t gone to bed yet when he hears wet sounds and soft rocking in the middle of the night. He doesn’t think much of it, not until he hears the soft moaning through the far too thin walls. 

"Suguru, oh fuck, you feel so good, ” a voice, high pitched and needy, whines. It’s obviously Suguru’s fucking boyfriend, his voice so incredibly annoying, and suddenly Satoru is very awake with the need to jump out of their third story window. 

“There you are,” he hears Suguru coo, velvety voice dripping like sweet honey. “Being so good for me, aren’t you?” 

Oh. 

Oh fuck.  

Satoru gulps, frozen in place and hit with the need to press his ear against the wall. Torn between doing that or jumping to his doom, he stares at the ceiling, waiting. Waiting for what, he isn’t sure, but he not so eagerly anticipates what’s next. 

“Suguru,” Suguru’s boyfriend whines, and the more Satoru listens, the more he can make out their choked gasps, the bed frame thumping against the wall. He imagines what it would be like to be underneath Suguru, shirtless and sweaty, held down by calloused hands.  

“Such a good little slut, hm baby?” 

“Yes!”  

Satoru dives for his headphones, left somewhere in his nightstand next to his lube and glasses. He shoves them in his ears hard enough that he might've caused damage, and finds his phone buried under the sheets.  

“You wanna cum?” 

“Please! Please make me cum!” 

Satoru opens his music app with shaky hands and blasts music at full volume. 

Fuck. 

- 

Satoru avoids Suguru in the morning. 

Or at least, that’s what he plans to do, except he walks straight into Suguru outside of his door. Suguru, who’s standing shirtless with deep, painful looking scratches down his back and freshly made, raw purple bruises around his collar bone. It’s a disgusting sight.  

Does his boyfriend even cut his nails? Ew. 

“Oh, Satoru,” Suguru says awkwardly, like he hadn’t been expecting to run into Satoru in his own home. “I thought you’d be out.” 

Oh. 

It’s almost noon on a Saturday. This is exactly the time Satoru would be home, sleeping in as much as he can until Suguru inevitably drags him out of bed. If anything, Satoru thought Suguru would be out. He’s taken to studying outside the house more often, and whether that’s at the library or at his boyfriend’s, Satoru doesn’t know. Either way, the distance between them seems to grow. 

“Well, I’m not, soooo,” Satoru says, just as awkwardly. He tries not to stare at Suguru too hard. 

Suguru coughs. “Right, sorry, Tori stayed over last night -” And fuck if Satoru isn’t well aware of that. “And we ended up waking up late so I didn’t make breakfast, if that’s okay.” 

“I don’t need you to make me breakfast.” Satoru says, almost offended. He’s a grown ass man, what the hell. “I do need you to remember the walls are thin, though.” 

Suguru eyes widen by a few millimeters, blush starting to form on the highs of his cheeks. He looks gorgeous flushed like that, but Satoru doesn’t linger or wait for his reply, stalking off into the kitchen to feed himself when his stomach grumbles.  

He doesn’t see Suguru for the rest of the day, but he’s not that surprised anymore.  

After the first night Suguru’s boyfriend spends at their place, it’s like the floodgates have been opened and he’s free to spend more time there. His boyfriend prances around the apartment, unrestrained and careless as if he owns the place, all to a fond smile that Satoru’s never seen Suguru direct at anyone but himself. One day, he catches them dancing in the kitchen, right in front of the fridge, where Satoru needs to be. 

It’s inconsiderate as fuck. Satoru is starving and needs to get food, thank you. They move with less than sincere apologies, and Satoru has to remind Suguru that he also lives here. 

It’s not even the worst part. The worst part is the sleepovers. Suguru’s boyfriend is so fucking loud – he sounds like he belongs in a brothel or something, with his fake ass whore moans that he can’t keep quiet. There’s no way Suguru likes that, and there’s no way Suguru’s even good enough that those moans are genuine. 

(He ignores the way his ears perk up when he catches glimpses of Suguru’s husky voice. Or the way he kind of thinks he might want someone to talk to him like that, all sweet yet condescending. Or the way he wonders what it’d be like to be under tan skin and dark hair -)  

Anyway. 

The distance between them grows, and even when they see each other, all Suguru seems to be able to do is bring up his boyfriend. There’s an invisible barrier between them that Satoru doesn’t know how to break. He doesn’t even know how to act around Suguru anymore, especially when Satoru sees him with marks down his neck, evidence that Suguru’s allowed someone else to touch him. 

Someone that isn’t Satoru. 

Suguru’s always been his rock, his anchor, his everything. He’s been Satoru’s moral compass with his sturdy reliability -- everything Satoru had needed. His best friend, his one and only. 

He doesn’t know who the man that shares his apartment is anymore. It feels like he’s lost his Suguru.  

He sits in his bed mulling this over, arms wrapped around his knees and headphones in. He’d briefly run into Suguru’s boyfriend in the hall, and now he’s in bed trying to drown out the sounds of their love making. It’s too late for him to go anywhere, the walls are too thin, and it’s so fucking unfair that he’s having such a shitty night. It’s unfair that the person Suguru once was, the person Satoru is in love with, is letting this happen. 

Satoru blinks back tears, rewinding his thoughts. 

He loves Suguru, he knows this. This isn’t new. Suguru’s his best friend. 

But Satoru isn’t stupid, and the realisation hits him like a freight train. 

Because he doesn’t just love Suguru. He’s in love with Suguru. His strength, his kindness -- even his stupid condescending self-righteousness.  

He’s in love with Suguru, and Suguru loves someone else, and there’s nothing he can do about it. 

And with that sudden realisation, Satoru goes to bed, quietly sobbing. 

- 

When morning comes and Satoru exits his room, Suguru is in the kitchen standing above the stove. He’s cooking something sweet and syrupy, something that has Satoru scowling because he knows it’s not for him. 

Just months ago, he’d be draping himself over Suguru, whining about breakfast, and Suguru would chuckle. He’d let Suguru cling to him, ask him what he wants, tease him for being such a shitty cook, and then make whatever Satoru wanted, anyway. 

“You sleep, okay?” Suguru asks with a glance over his shoulder. “It sounded like you had a nightmare.” 

“No?” Satoru replies, brows furrowed in confusion. He hasn’t had a nightmare in months, let alone last night. How the hell would Suguru even have heard that? 

“Oh, I thought I heard you crying,” Suguru says casually.  

Months ago, if he’d heard Satoru crying, he would’ve rushed in to hold and comfort him. Now he barely shows any semblance of affection or concern and Satoru feels like he’s fighting for scraps. He says it with such nonchalance, Satoru isn’t even sure if Suguru still cares about it. 

The fact that Suguru was always willing to be there for Satoru is probably one of the reasons Satoru fell in love with him. He can’t even pinpoint when it happened, but he must have loved Suguru for longer than he thinks, because his heart aches.  

“Oh, yeah, because I did have a nightmare. Right,” Satoru lies, careful not to chew on the inside of his lip or pick at his nails, habits Suguru knows he only does when he’s not being truthful. 

He feels himself blink back tears again. God, when was the last time he’s ever felt like he’d had to lie to Suguru? This isn’t a conversation he wants to have, not a conversation he can have. Years of friendship down the drain, just for Satoru to realise he’s in love with the man and can’t have him. 

Suguru, who’d always been so in tune with Satoru’s feelings, doesn’t even notice his turmoil. He just hums in acknowledgement and returns to his cooking. It’s a horrible feeling. 

- 

The August camping trip is an annual tradition that started in their first year by Haibara and Satoru, then kept alive by Shoko. Haibara had been the first to bring it up. He’d gone camping all the time with his family as a kid and missed it. Suguru and Shoko, who’d also gone camping with their families, had been neutral on it. Satoru had never been in his life – the idea of being voluntarily homeless, away from all life’s luxuries, felt so foreign to him. His family never would’ve allowed that. 

Naturally, he’d been the first to jump on the idea, and he and Haibara had gotten to planning.  

Ultimately, it’d been Shoko, Suguru, and Nanami who had put together the plans, because Haibara and Satoru were complete disasters full of impulsive ideas, but they’d gotten their group of friends together for a wonderful three days, and the tradition has continued ever since.  

Each year, Suguru is the one to pack their three-person tent (bought because it was the most expensive in Satoru’s frenzied shopping spree, and he didn’t know better) and both their sleeping bags. This year is no exception, and in the blur of everything – school, work, Suguru’s stupid boyfriend – Satoru doesn’t get around to talking much to Suguru about it aside from a short, stiff conversation confirming they’re both going.  

In hindsight, they should’ve spoken more about it. Satoru should’ve known better by the way Suguru hadn’t badgered him into going to bed earlier the evening before, something he always does when he knows Satoru has an early morning. Should’ve known better by the way Suguru hadn’t reminded him to pack his sunscreen or his toothbrush or literally anything else. He always nags Satoru about remembering to bring stuff into the car with them. 

Satoru gets up at the first ring of his alarm. Normally he’d snooze it a few times before Suguru has to drag his ass out of bed, but excitement drums through his veins. It’s the first time he’ll get to hang out with his friends – Suguru – without Suguru’s boyfriend around in months. Just him and Suguru and a lack of cell service. 

It’s too good to be true. 

It’s too good to be true because it is -- Suguru has left without him, taking the tent and the sleeping bags and the snacks and the blankets. Without him.  

There’s no trace or Suguru or the car. 

He’s so lucky he’s awake. He calls Suguru – several times over the course of a single minute, and then finally – finally – Suguru picks up.    

“Hello?” comes a somewhat drowsy voice. 

“Where the hell are you?” Satoru asks, shuffling around the apartment. He stuffs his feet into his shoes and ties the laces up. “Did you leave without me? What the hell, man.” 

“Oh, fuck,” Suguru says, and he already sounds more awake. “I didn’t know you were planning on riding with me. I’m already on the road.” 

“Didn’t know I’d be – who the fuck else would I be going with? We’ve gone in the same car every year. We live together.” 

“We didn’t talk about it,” Suguru tries, but it’s weak and sounds pathetic even to Satoru.  

“We didn’t talk about it,” Satoru mocks. “Just come back and get me.” 

“I’m already on the highway,” Suguru argues. “Try calling Nanami. I don’t think he’s left yet.” 

Satoru does not call Nanami. He does, however, call Haibara, who tells him that Nanami will be thrilled to pick him up, and 10 minutes later Nanami is there glaring at him from the driver’s seat. Haibara waves at him and offers to switch spots because Satoru’s longer legs probably need the extra space the passenger seat provides, but Satoru declines, slipping into the back seat with the excuse that he’d like to kick Nanami’s chair when he drives badly.  

Nanami does not drive badly – he drives much more carefully than Suguru, even, and Suguru is one of the best drivers Satoru knows. He’s lulled to sleep by the gentle sounds of the car engine and easy, quiet conversation.  

Before he knows it, they’ve arrived at their spot, and they make the short hike over to where the girls have already arrived, lugging heavy backpacks. Shoko has already set up her tent, and Mei Mei is just putting up the finishing touches on hers.  

They exchange sleepy greetings, and Shoko motions to Satoru. 

“Where’s your tent?” she asks, holding up a cigarette. She lets out a breath of smoke.  

Satoru shrugs. “With Suguru, probably.” 

All eyes snap towards him, looking at him with a mixture of confusion and pity, like there’s something he doesn’t know but shouldn’t. Even Ui Ui is looking at him with sympathy, even though he’s half Satoru’s age and full of pre-teen cruelty.  

It’s then that he realises Suguru is missing, even though he should’ve already gotten there by now.  

“Wait, where is Suguru- “ he begins to ask, only to be interrupted by the man in question. 

“I see you’ve all made it,” he hears Suguru say, and Satoru whips around to see that he’s not alone. Trailing behind him is a slightly shorter man with dark hair and an irritating smile, carrying a heavy khaki backpack. 

For fuck’s sake – Suguru brought his boyfriend to their annual camping trip? Really?  

“That’s why you couldn’t fucking drive me? You were bringing your boyfriend?” Satoru snaps, and only at the last minute does he stop himself from stomping his foot like a toddler. Did Suguru’s boyfriend eat all his snacks in the car? Cover himself in Satoru’s blanket when Suguru turned the AC on too high? Fuck. 

“I’m sorry, Satoru. We should’ve talked about it,” Suguru says, and he drops his bag onto the ground. “Would it make you feel better if I helped you set up your tent?” 

Satoru stares at him. Suguru stares back. Realisation dawns on his face. “You didn’t bring your tent.” 

“You brought my tent, actually.” 

“Are you serious?” Suguru’s boyfriend interrupts, and he looks angrier than Satoru’s ever seen him. God, Satoru wishes he would just stay out of it. “You brought his tent instead of your own?” 

“We only have the one,” Suguru says, holding his hands up in defense. “We’ve shared it for years.  

"We’re not sharing a tent with him.” 

Satoru’s been really good about not having a meltdown. About being nice to Suguru’s stupid ass boyfriend and respecting his wishes. But honestly, he’s at his limit. He’s made himself sparse and been quiet and bit his tongue and stopped touching Suguru, all to appease Suguru’s dumb boyfriend, but that is his tent. His tent that he bought to spend time with his friends (Suguru), He makes sure to tell him that. 

Luckily for him, Suguru backs him up on this. 

“The tent belongs to Satoru; he bought it. I brought it because it’s one we’ve always used. If he doesn't want to share, then there’s nothing we can do about it, and we’ll just be out of a tent.” 

“Why can’t we just borrow it, and he can share with someone else?” Tori tries, and Satoru glances over at the rest of their friends.  

“You won’t fit,” Nanami says, and Haibara smiles sheepishly.  

“Sorry, Gojo-senpai, but he’s right,” Their tent barely fits Nanami, let alone Nanami and Haibara. Satoru has no idea how they’re even comfortable. 

“I am not having you in mine,” Utahime says, crossing her arms. Shoko shrugs. 

Last but not least is Mei Mei, and she flips her hair over her shoulder as she says, “You won’t fit either, but I’m willing to name a price.”  

The last time Satoru had been in Mei Mei’s tent was also the first time she’d brought Ui Ui along, their parents going on some weekend vacation and hadn’t allowed him to be home alone. Satoru had ended up in their tent being pitched some scheme that Ui Ui wanted him to invest in. 

After saying no, they ended up playing Pokemon for hours, trading each other their version differences until Satoru had fallen asleep. He’d woken up to find that not only was Ui Ui watching him with creepy eyes, but he’d put every bug he could find on Satoru’s chest. He shudders at the idea of recreating that experience. 

Also, everything he’d touched had been sticky. 

Suguru sighs. “It’s fine. We’ll just share, if Satoru’s okay with it. Satoru, where’s your sleeping bag?”  

Satoru stares at him again. 

“Satoru, are you serious?”  

“You always pack it! How was I supposed to know you wouldn’t this time?” 

“Are you five years old? I shouldn’t need to baby you. Did you pack anything?”  

“No, because you fucking took everything. Even my snacks? 

Suguru sighs, heavily, like this is entirely Satoru’s fault. It isn’t, though, because Suguru’s the one who diverged from the plans and brought his boyfriend, even when his boyfriend shouldn’t be here. Also, he’s being nice and letting Suguru and his boyfriend share with him. He should get a little more credence, here.  

“Just help me set up the tent.” 

- 

They set up the tent with minimal arguing and only a few snarky comments from Suguru’s boyfriend. Because Satoru hasn’t brought his own sleeping bag, and Suguru is kind, he lays down his own across the tent and puts his boyfriend’s aside to use as a blanket. Luckily, he’s also brought some of their other spare blankets, remembering how Satoru gets cold. It’s sweet in a way Satoru hasn’t seen from him in months. 

They don’t spend a lot of time in the tent, though, or even with each other. Satoru is eager to get away from Suguru’s boyfriend and ends up swimming with Nanami for a good chunk of the day. 

By dinner he’s sun kissed (burnt) and exhausted. Their campground has a picnic table that Satoru sits at, playing card games with Haibara while Nanami fixes up their portable barbecue to grill up some hot dogs.  

“Did you get burnt?” Suguru says out of nowhere, squinting his eyes at Satoru’s shoulders. His tank top slips, revealing unblemished, alabaster skin against burnt pink. “ Satoru.”  

“I went swimming!” Satoru defends. “The sunscreen would’ve washed off, anyway.” 

Suguru tsks at him. Despite being a smoker , he’s always on Satoru’s case about skin cancer, nagging him into wearing sunscreen to minimize the risk. Giant hypocrite is what he is.  

He also hates when Satoru gets burnt, but he’s always there to listen to him whine about peeling skin with a fond, exasperated smile.  

“I brought the aloe vera,” Suguru says, already standing up from the table. “Let me go get it.” 

He ends massaging it into Satoru’s skin for him, the cool gel a nice relief against the heat of his burn. It’s strange that he’s willing to get this close again, in front of his boyfriend no less, but Satoru keeps his mouth shut, unwilling to look a gift horse in the mouth. He’s missed Suguru’s hands on him, and he’s not going to fuck this up.  

Suguru’s boyfriend sees this and excuses himself to the tent early, right as they’re done with dinner with the excuse that he’d like to wind down and finish reading his book.  

By the time they're getting ready for bed, Suguru and his boyfriend get into another quick argument. He doesn’t want Suguru next to Satoru, but he also doesn’t want to be next to Satoru. There’s no way to win, so he ends up deciding he doesn’t want to potentially touch another man and lets Suguru in the middle. 

Satoru sleeps better than he would’ve thought. 

In the morning, Satoru wakes up to low voices hissing at each other, right outside his tent. He can see two shadows against the sun, one of them clearly Suguru by the height and the way long hair spills over broad shoulders. The other is probably Torihisa by the conversation he picks up. 

“- Supposed to do when I see my boyfriend cuddling with another man right next to me?”  

“I’m sorry. I went to sleep knowing my boyfriend was beside me, I didn’t mean to roll over and grab the wrong person in my sleep. It doesn’t mean anything.” 

“He’s way taller than me. There’s no way you didn’t know who you were holding. I knew you had feelings for him. I knew it.” 

“I was asleep. And Satoru and I live together, you don’t think if I wanted to act on any feelings, I would've done that while we’re home alone together, and not when my goddamn boyfriend is right next to me?” 

The voices begin to fade, footsteps receding as the two walk away from the tent to continue their argument elsewhere. Satoru stares at the top of the tent, trying to blink himself awake, knowing he shouldn’t have been privy to such a private conversation, but finding that he doesn't care all that much, anyway.  

If Suguru’s boyfriend wants to be jealous, good. Now he knows how Satoru feels. Suguru is supposed to be his, after all.  

- 

The rest of the trip goes without anything of note. It’s not bad, but it’s not good, either, tainted by the presence of Suguru’s boyfriend, who seemingly won’t stop hovering over Suguru, looming over him like a territorial dog.  

Satoru hates him so much. 

After that first night, he gets over himself, and decides he wants to sleep in the middle. Satoru tries to put as much space between them as possible, and he does the same, to the point that Suguru huffs, annoyed that he barely has space, because his boyfriend is taking it all up in his refusal to get near Satoru. 

It works in Satoru’s favour, anyway. 

Despite all this, Suguru is back to being frosty, not just to Satoru, but his boyfriend, too. He keeps his words short and concise, doesn’t indulge Satoru in his love for smores, even when he and Haibara start playing fuzzy bunny. Normally, he’d be the one to roast marshmallows over the fire, pulling Satoru into his lap while they did so. But this time he sits afar, silently watching his boyfriend, Satoru, and Haibara by the fire. 

Satoru is forced to pester Nanami into helping him roast marshmallows, egged on by Haibara. 

“Tor-“Satoru lights up. “-Ri” and immediately frowns again. Suguru beckons his boyfriend closer to him. Weirdly enough, it’s the first time Satoru’s seen them talk today. 

“This is what I was talking about this morning,” Suguru is saying, showing his boyfriend something on his phone. Disgustingly, Suguru wraps an arm around his boyfriend and pulls him into his lap. “Here, this is what Yuji made.” 

“Oh! Speaking of Yuji,” Haibara says, lifting his roasting his stick from the fire. His marshmallow is aflame, and he blows it out. “Did you hear about Yuji and Megumi?”  

“No, what about them?” 

“Oh, yeah,” Satoru says, knowing exactly what Haibara is about to say. “You didn’t hear this from us, but our kids are dating.” Satoru waggles his eyebrows. “Which you’d know if you were ever home so I could tell you in person like I’ve been planning.” 

“Since when?” Suguru demands.  

Satoru shrugs. Since Nanami had a serious conversation with Yuji after he and Megumi had a fight some two months back, at least.  

“Oh, so you have kids now,” Suguru’s boyfriend says sarcastically. 

Satoru is about to bite back – because yeah, actually, they are their kids. A group of first years that joined in on Satoru’s physics tutoring because he’s a genius and physics is hard. He and Suguru, somehow, had taken them under their wings – and then Nanami, the bastard, had claimed Yuji as his own – and they are his kids to nurture and protect because school is hard.  

Now that he thinks of it, he hopes Suguru won’t introduce this viper to them. 

The conversation derails somewhat as Haibara gossips about Yuji and Megumi, and Suguru leans forward, listening intently. Satoru slumps in his chair, arms crossed and watching the fire with thoughtful eyes. He’d wanted to be the one to tell Suguru about their kids, but another thought plagues him. 

Would his kids replace him as easily as Suguru has?  

- 

The last day of the trip they finish packing, and Satoru makes his way over to Suguru. “Am I getting a ride home or are you going to make Nanamin drive an extra twenty minutes?” 

“Just get in the car, Toru.” 

The car ride is silent. 

- 

Satoru catches Suguru on a Tuesday afternoon in the middle of the day. Satoru has a morning class, and Suguru has an evening class, so historically they’ve always spent the time in between together. Satoru comes home, bothers Suguru for a few hours, and then Suguru leaves for the evening. 

Historically, because Satoru doesn’t know the last time he’s actually seen Suguru home during this time. 

“Didn’t think you’d be here,” Satoru says as he shuts the door to their apartment. Suguru is lounging on the couch, scrolling through his phone. He doesn’t even bother to look up as he replies.  

“Tori wasn’t feeling well so I ended up just coming home. My classes have been pretty dry, so I don’t have any studying to do.” Well, that explains what he’s been doing the last few months. Satoru figured as much. 

“Right, well, I’ll be in my room, then,” Satoru says, shifting awkwardly.  

And maybe it’s because Satoru’s exhausted and irritable, all out of IQ points from a sleepless night and grueling physics class, but he can’t seem to figure out why Suguru’s in the living room instead of his bedroom. Can’t seem to figure out why after all this time spent running away and hiding at his boyfriend’s place Suguru is out here in the living room at a time he knew Satoru would be home. 

He summons all his courage as he asks, “Why aren’t you in your room?” 

This has Suguru pausing. He sits upright and places his phone face down beside him. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean you spend all your time in your room or outside the house. I barely see you, so why are you in the living room now?” 

This time it’s Suguru’s turn to frown. “I was waiting for you to get home. We haven’t spent much time together in months.” 

Satoru doesn’t know whether to scream or laugh. “What’re you even talking about? I got home and you didn’t even look at me.” 

“Because I was busy composing a text to Tori. It’s not like that. I miss you.” 

Satoru scoffs. “Do you?” 

It’s Suguru’s turn to be confused, and he looks at Satoru with blinking eyes and edge of nervousness. “Do you ... not miss me?” 

“I do. I miss you a lot – but you’re the one who won’t hang out. You’re the one who’s putting this fucking barrier between us. Don’t tell me you miss me when you’re the one who’s been putting this fucking distance between us.”  

“Satoru - look, Tori just ... gets kind of jealous. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel like that.”  

“Am I even important to you? I thought we were best friends, yet you literally cast me aside the minute you got a boyfriend. ” 

“We are, Satoru, but Torihisa is important to me, too. I want him to be happy.” 

“Oh, so you care about him more than me? What about my happiness? Why can’t you just date someone more accepting.” 

“Satoru,” Suguru starts, exasperated, but Satoru doesn’t stop. 

“He’s not even that great of a person. Seriously, what do you even like about him? That he sounds like a cheap whore?” 

“Satoru, stop it. You’re being a child.” 

“Sorry I’m mad that the most important person to me suddenly decided someone else is more important to them. You could’ve dated someone who doesn’t hate me and been happy, but no, you chose to date someone who hates me and then have the audacity to get mad when I'm upset about it.” 

“Satoru, please don’t throw another temper tantrum because you’re not getting what you want.” 

Satoru laughs, loud and sarcastic. “Right, well, good to know that’s what you think of me,” he says, turning towards the front door. 

“Wait, Satoru -” and Suguru makes to grab for Satoru’s arm, who dodges out of the way.  

“Fuck you,” Satoru says over his shoulder, then promptly wrenches the front door open and leaves, tears blistering at the corner of his eyes.  

- 

Satoru leaves the apartment for a few days to hide out at Shoko’s. The downside is that Utahime is there more often than not, leaving clothes and hair and toiletries all over the place, but she must sense his anguish because she’s nicer than usual, even making him a smoothie out of the overripe fruit in Shoko’s kitchen. It’s not as good a smoothie as Suguru would make, but he appreciates the gesture all the same. 

“Just - he’s such a dick!” Satoru is saying, well aware that he’s been repeating himself over the past hour, talking in endless circles. Shoko’s already somewhat familiar about the dwindling friendship between him and Suguru, but he hadn’t let her know the true extent until now, and she listens intently, head leaning on her hand. “Who treats their best friend like that?” 

“Well, he has a boyfriend now, and he cares about him. This is what tends to happen.” Shoko says, side eyeing Utahime. She’s been a silent observer with the odd comment here and there, mostly to back up whatever Shoko’s said. 

“Why would he even need someone else when he -” When he has me, Satoru realises he’s about to say. Shit, maybe Suguru was right about Utahime being right. He sighs and starts again. “You can date someone without losing your friends, can’t you?”  

He asks this somewhat rhetorically. He knows, theoretically, that people only lose their friends when their friends stop being a priority. That it’s a bad habit some people make, and it’s quite easy to maintain a healthy balance between the two. Nanami and Haibara are living proof of a healthy dynamic. Shoko and Utahime probably would, too, honestly.  

He’d never tell them that, but he’s allowed to think it when he sees them softly smile at each, eyes crinkling at their own private jokes. It’s kind of how he and Suguru used to look at each other.  

“It’s his first relationship,” Utahime comments while slicing up some fruit. She pushes a plate of cut up melon towards him, urging him to eat. “You guys are young. He might just still be adjusting to having a real boyfriend. It’s harder when he has a friendship like ... yours, honestly. You’re kind of co-dependent.”  

“Being in a relationship can’t even be that hard. It’s just like spending one on one time with a friend and some kissing and shit. Suguru and I used to do that all the time without the kissing. We’d get food and I dunno, go to the movies or whatever,” Satoru says this while waving a piece of melon around, except the more he talks, the more he realizes Haibara might have been right that one time. They’ve been to the aquarium together. They’ve gone to concerts together. They’ve even spent Christmas Eve together, the most romantic fucking holiday in Japan. They were essentially dating all this time and no one had pointed it out before that one movie night? 

“Whatever, maybe I’ll just get my own boyfriend,” he says, brushing off his feelings. But once his mouth and brain sync up, the realization of what he’s said dawns on him.  

Maybe it’s not such a bad idea. Suguru’s the one that changed after getting a boyfriend, leaving him behind without a care in the world. He can get a boyfriend and stop caring about Suguru, too.  

Utahime and Shoko share a nervous look.  

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” Shoko says slowly, reaching a hand out to touch Satoru’s shoulder. “You’re kind of vulnerable right now.” 

“Nonsense! Help me start up an account.” 

Reluctantly, and at Satoru’s insistence, the girls help out. They pick through a few photos while demolishing the rest of their fruit, commenting on which photos are best for a dating profile. Satoru is already hot as fuck, and any photo of him is a good photo of him. He just needs ones that showcase him and his personality, the crème de la crème of his photos.  

Belatedly, he realizes just how photos he has of Suguru in his camera roll. 

Each photo is artistically taken, capturing his beauty and demonstrating just how much the photographer – Satoru – loves him. It has Satoru wanting to throw his phone across the room.   

Once they narrow down a few photos, and everything is set up to the way Satoru likes, he fixes himself a spot on Shoko’s couch and gets to swiping.  

A man with by the name of Byakuya with long, black hair, grey eyes, and a pointed chin. Yes.  

A man with grey hair and heterochromatic eyes named Kakashi that looks eerily similar to Satoru. Absolutely not  

A man named Ace wearing an obnoxious orange cowboy hat that covers dark hair, standing shirtless with his back towards the camera, showing off an equally gaudy coloured purple cross tattoo. Sure, why not.  

It’s kind of fun judging people and swiping on their profiles. Satoru almost forgets that there’s a reason he’s doing this until he reaches the profile of an older man, somewhere in his late forties. He’s still hot as fuck and has pink hair and face tattoos. He also looks startling similar to Yuji. 

Sukuna, the name reads.  

Squinting at the profile, Satoru runs through his brain trying to think of a Sukuna. It takes a moment, but he finally remembers him as Yuji’s uncle. He’d met him once before, briefly, at Yuji’s birthday. He’s significantly taller than Satoru, which is hot, because Satoru is well over six feet tall, and not many people get to be that height.  

Ah, what the hell.  

He swipes right and gets an immediate message. 

Sukuna: damn, you're young. you look familiar. you in porn or something? 

Satoru: nah I’m friends with Yuji. I think we’ve met  

Sukuna: i don’t know a yuji 

Satoru: Yuji Itadori. I think you might be his uncle? 

Sukuna: ffs im trying to keep it from being weird. i don’t want to fuck my nephew’s friend  

Satoru laughs. He’s forward, but it’s nothing he hasn’t heard about him before. Everyone wants to fuck him. 

He sends back a teasing reply. 

Satoru: Oh, but you’d fuck me if I wasn’t? 

Sukuna: look at you, baby. face like that you were made to take cock 

Satoru feels his face heat up. Okay, wow, he wasn’t expecting that. Even though he’s essentially just met the man, barely knows anything about him, the words still go straight to his crotch. It’s the type of thing he’s heard Suguru whisper in the middle of the night, the type of thing he’s imagined being told while he’s three fingers deep, even though he’ll never admit to it out loud. 

He takes a deep breath and sends another message. 

Satoru: Let’s start simple, first. Coffee?  

Sukuna: off campus. I ain’t runnin into the brat 

- 

The date goes ... okay. It’s better than expected, but in all honesty, Satoru doesn’t know too much about dating, so he goes along with what the internet tells him, and the internet says to start with a coffee date. Something easy, non-committal, and in public that allows them to “Get to know each other” in a casual setting. 

He takes an uber there because no way is he making Suguru drive him – not that Suguru’s home anyway – and no way is he taking public transportation off campus. He is not risking running into anyone he knows asking what he’s up to. 

Sukuna’s okay, he thinks. Crass and blunt and kind of selfish, but so is Satoru, so it seems like he’s met his match in that regard. Because he’s Yuji’s uncle, Satoru knows a few things about him in passing, like how he hates Yuji’s mom’s surrogate Kenjaku, took steroids in his youth, and may or may not be banned from the entire country of Mexico. 

He tells Satoru to his face that he’d love to make him cry on his cock, uncaring that they’re in public, and Satoru sputters in lieu of a reply, spilling his hot chocolate everywhere.  

Sukuna isn’t even mad about it. He laughs in Satoru’s face, calls him cute, and then buys him another one. That’s weird by itself, because most people judge him for getting hot chocolate instead of coffee, but Satoru chalks it up to the man desperately wanting to get into his pants. 

Whatever it is, it makes him feel wanted for the first time in a while, so he goes along with it. Sure, there are probably people his own age that want him, too, but there’s something much more exciting about this. 

He even lets Sukuna drive him home, then kisses him on the cheek, exiting the car with a flirty goodbye. Sukuna smirks at him and promises to see him again. 

Satoru is in a good enough mood, whistling to himself as he unlocks the front door, that he barely notices Suguru is home. He’s absent-mindedly spinning his keys around his fingers when he trips on shoes in the doorway.  

Shoes that he doesn’t recognize, but they’re next to Suguru’s, so they must belong to his boyfriend, and they must be together. 

Satoru doesn’t intend to talk to them when he passes them on the couch, but Suguru calls out to him, and it almost ruins his good mood.  

“Hey, where were you today?” he asks, and he doesn’t look happy. It’s the first time they’ve run into each other since they fought a few days ago, careful to avoid one another.  

Satoru’s blood boils just thinking about it. Suguru asks about him as if he cares, except Satoru knows he doesn’t. Because if he did care about Satoru, even a little, he’d break up with his boyfriend, or at least stop with their goddamn nonsense and be willing to hug him.  

“Out,” he snaps, fully intending to end the conversation there. He hates the way Suguru’s boyfriend clings to him, beady eyes following his movements. 

“Off campus?” Suguru continues, and at this Satoru whips back around to face him. “You don’t even have a car. How’d you get there? And I know you weren’t with any of our friends. 

He barely knows how to drive despite having a license, the car is a moot point and Suguru knows it.  

“How do you even know where I was?” 

“Find my friend.” Suguru waves his phone around. “We shared our locations, dumbass.” 

Right. He’d completely forgotten about it – they'd done it years ago for safety reasons. It’s never been used until now. If they’re not already together, they’re already telling each other why they’re apart, counting down the minutes until they’re together again. 

Fuck, maybe Utahime was right. Maybe they were co-dependent.  

“You seriously tracked my location instead of just texting me?” 

Suguru at least has the decency to look ashamed. “You wouldn’t have answered.” 

“And you knew I wasn’t there with any of our friends, how, exactly?” 

Now Suguru looks guilty. Reluctantly, he admits, “I asked them.” 

"I can’t believe you. I was there with a friend, for fuck’s sake. You could’ve just asked.” 

“You don’t have any other friends.” 

Satoru takes a deep, deep breath, eyes closed and counts backwards from ten. He is not going to cry, and he is not going to explode in front of Suguru’s boyfriend, who has slowly been inching his way onto Suguru’s lap, as if trying to stake a claim that he already has. He is not going to give Suguru’s boyfriend that satisfaction. 

“Do you want me to tell you I went alone? Will that make you feel better?” 

Suguru’s boyfriend glowers at this comment for reasons unknown to Satoru, and it’s so irritating that it makes his mood plummet even more. 

“Thank you for your consideration, Suguru. I do appreciate that you think so poorly of me that you think I’m incapable of making other friends, but I can, and I don’t need you to hold my hand. Now mind your fucking business from now on,” and storms off towards his bedroom. 

He slams his door just because he can. 

- 

One date becomes two, which soon becomes three, until Satoru stops counting. For weeks, they continue to find excuses to see each other off campus as much as their schedules allow. There isn’t a lot of time between Satoru’s classes and Sukuna’s sporadic work schedule – which Satoru isn’t privy to, although he’s beginning to think Sukuna might be a yakuza member – but they make it work. 

Sukuna is the antithesis of a gentleman and handsy as hell, but Satoru doesn’t mind spending time with him. He very clearly wants to fuck Satoru, and he makes that known, letting Satoru know how beautiful his eyes are and how much he loves his ass. Each compliment is accompanied by a squeeze to his ass or his hips or his waist, and even though it makes him feel kind of weird, he still misses having rough, calloused hands on him. It’s better than nothing, so he lets it happen. 

After a few weeks of cute dates and exchanging chaste kisses, Satoru can tell Sukuna’s getting impatient. He hasn’t said anything out loud, but his goodbye kisses begin to get rougher, more desperate. He’s older and probably not used to going this long without fucking his dates, Satoru rationalizes.  

It comes to a head when Sukuna takes him to a high-end restaurant for dinner. He pulls out all the stops, dressing nicely and even getting him flowers. It’s a literal definition of wining and dining, and Satoru can’t help but feel a little flattered.  

He knows what Sukuna wants from him. It’s more than nerve wracking, but they have a great time, even when Satoru turns down a glass of wine and Sukuna downs the entire bottle in one go. 

He honestly does like Sukuna. They’re usually on the same wavelength, being smarter and richer than everyone else, and Satoru finds himself falling into step with Sukuna’s movement. Sukuna doesn’t even tell off Satoru when he’s being rude, usually following him with a blunt, even ruder comment. Suguru would never do that without the veneer of backhanded politeness. 

So, when Sukuna drops him off at his apartment at the end of the evening, Satoru puts a hand on his thigh and says, “Hey, do you want to come up with me?” 

Sukuna’s grin is absolutely feral. “You finally going to let me fuck that ass of yours?” 

Satoru shrugs. “Maybe if you impress me.” 

It’s a Friday night and he knows Suguru is going to be gone all evening. Suguru hasn’t spent a Friday evening at their house in months. It’ll be just him and Sukuna all evening, and whatever happens can happen. Satoru’s in no rush, but he likes the idea of being fucked, especially by someone stronger than him, who can pin him down. Someone like Su -  

Satoru halts his train of thought and gets out of the car. 

Once they step through the apartment doors, Sukuna is immediately on him, crowding him against the door and kissing hard and fast. It’s so intense that Satoru goes lightheaded. They kick off their shoes without separating and he lets Sukuna lead them into the living room. The back of Satoru’s legs hit the couch, and he lands on his back with an omph. 

Sukuna crawls on top of him, lips finding the column of his neck and sucking hickeys into delicate skin. He reaches for the buttons of Satoru’s pants, unbuttoning them one by one. Pressed against each other, Satoru can feel his massive hardening length against his thigh. It’s overwhelming, everything moving way too fast, and Satoru realises just how in over his head he is. Sukuna is much, much older than him, much more experienced, and maybe he isn’t ready for this just yet -- wants to tell him to slow down but isn’t sure how. It feels good but it doesn’t feel right, and Sukuna’s telling him about how pretty he sounds and his hands are reaching inside his jeans and he doesn’t know if he can handle this and then –  

– the lights turn on. Suguru’s heavy gaze lands on them, nose crinkled in clear disgust.  

“What the fuck?” Sukuna exclaims, looking up to where Suguru is standing at the entrance.  

“I could say the same,” Suguru says dryly, arms crossed in front of his chest. “If you’re going to bring people home, Satoru, you could at least have the decency to do this in your room.” 

“We weren’t even doing anything,” Sukuna scoffs, and secretly, Satoru is thankful – thankful that Suguru is interrupting, and weirdly enough, thankful that Sukuna is between them, shielding his body from Suguru’s gaze.  

“Maybe another time?” Satoru tries for a sweet, apologetic smile. 

"Sure, whatever,” Sukuna grumbles. “Have an early morning tomorrow, anyway.” 

Then, with a shit eating grin, Sukuna leans in for a filthy kiss, tongue and all, right in front of Suguru. Satoru’s cheeks flare with embarrassment when Sukuna pulls away.  

“Night, beautiful,” he says before heading off. He casually strolls past Suguru who’s still glaring at him, intentionally bumping into him on the way out. “Oops.” 

When the door shuts close, Suguru immediately gets on his case. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Suguru says furiously. “On the couch?” 

“We weren’t even doing anything but kissing. Now you have a problem with sex?” 

“Your pants are unbuttoned,” Suguru says with a sneer. 

“Whatever, I hear you and your boyfriend, like, every night.” Suguru scowls. “We would’ve eventually moved to my bed. Why are you home, anyway? You’re always out on Friday nights.” 

“Yuji said you were going on a date with his uncle. I thought it’d be nice to be there when you got heartbroken,” Suguru says, like he’s doing Satoru such a favor. 

“Did he say I was going to be heartbroken or something? I’ve been dating Sukuna for a few weeks now.” 

“Oh. I just assumed –” 

“Well, you assumed wrong,” Satoru snaps and turns around to storm off to his bedroom so he can have the last word. He’s feeling petty – sue him.  

- 

Suguru is in a foul mood. Satoru normally wouldn’t be privy to information like this anymore, except he gets a text from an unknown number asking about why. 

Satoru: 

Who is this lol 

Unknown number: 

Torihisa, Suguru’s boyfriend. 

Satoru: 

Oh. Well, idk, your guess is as good as mine. 

Unknown Number: 

He only gets this way because of you. What did you say to him? 

What the hell did that mean? 

Satoru: 

I didn’t say shit to him 

Unknown Number: 

Well, what did you do then? 

Satoru: 

Why don’t you ask him yourself? 

Unknown Number: 

He won’t tell me 

Satoru: 

Well I dunno what to tell you 

Maybe he’s pissed he caught me making out with my bf on the couch 

Sukuna is not his boyfriend. In fact, he’s no longer seeing Sukuna at all. He’d ended it as soon as Sukuna texted him the next day saying he was sorry they were interrupted and wanted to fuck the next time they saw each other. Satoru wasn’t ready, didn’t want to lead him on much longer, and Sukuna had been surprisingly okay with it, commenting that he should’ve known better than to date someone so close to his nephew. 

Weird. So weird, but easy. 

He also happens to catch glimpses of Suguru and his boyfriend fighting again. Satoru can’t even begin to understand how important Tori is to Suguru when all they do is fight. Not even dumb banter or heated arguments – straight up fighting. When have he and Suguru ever argued like that? Aside from the night before and after the camping trip and during the camping trip and – actually, aside from the entire time Suguru’s been dating his boyfriend, they’ve rarely fought. 

Why Suguru would rather spend time with his boyfriend than Suguru, Satoru doesn’t know. There is no life he could’ve lived where he’d pick someone else over Suguru, especially someone who hated him. They were two halves of the same whole – if someone hated Suguru, wouldn’t that mean they hated parts of Satoru?  

- 

After letting Shoko know that dating thing hasn’t worked out, she gently chides him with a “I told you so” and decides to throw him a pity party – just them and their friends commiserating in his misery, drinking their sorrows away.  

He arrives at Shoko’s apartment with Utahime in tow, half listening to her spiel about why he’s just as, if not more, undatable than her. Suguru and his boyfriend are already there. 

“What, didn’t bring your boyfriend?” Suguru says, snippy, and why he’s so angry about it, Satoru doesn’t know, but for some reason this seems to annoy Suguru’s boyfriend, too. 

Satoru rolls his eyes. What the fuck’s Suguru’s problem.  

“It’s none of your business these days, but if you must know, I called it off,” Satoru says.  

Blatant shock and confusion are etched all over Suguru’s face. “Why?” 

His boyfriend hits him in the arm, displeased. 

“I just told you,” Satoru repeats. “It’s none of your business.” 

The conversation ends there, and Suguru doesn’t bother to talk to Satoru for most of the night. Again, he keeps close to his boyfriend, who seems ready to tear out Satoru’s throat with his teeth, staring at him with daggers in his eyes. 

Satoru chalks it up to him being a jealous drunk, and keeps away while he chats up Haibara, sipping his Vanilla Cherry Coke-Melon Soda-Raspberry Syrup-Pineapple Juice hybrid monstrosity that he had to beg Shoko to let him make. Satoru is beautiful and rich and smart – everyone should be jealous of him, and that includes Suguru’s boyfriend, even if the feeling is mutual for completely different reasons. 

Somewhere along the night, they start playing party games, from Mario Kart (which they have to stop mid race because Suguru and Satoru, despite not talking, are still competitive as hell) to Telestrations (Suguru’s stupid boyfriend loses his pen and they can’t find a replacement) and now, the age-old game of truth or dare. 

“Truth or dare?” Tori drawls, sounding bored, and Satoru shrugs. He’s already given Utahime free reign of his phone – she’d texted his mom asking for money, which she immediately sent – swapped shirts with Nanami – his ripped on Nanami before it could even go over his shoulders, so Nanami had put back on his sweater while Satoru remained in Nanami’s button up shirt. Suguru had seethed – and performed the entirety of Hamilton by himself by memory. He might as well switch it up. “Truth, I guess.” 

Suguru’s boyfriend presses his lips together, then, “When did you lose your virginity.” 

Satoru blinks back his surprise, completely taken aback by the question. “Um, I haven’t.” 

“Wait, Satoru, you’re still a virgin?” At 22, Satoru isn’t ashamed of it, and yet Haibara saying it makes him feel like he should be. Haibara certainly doesn’t mean it in a bad way – he's not that kind of person. He’s just genuinely surprised because of Satoru’s general demeanor. He’s flirty, but he isn’t in the habit of doing, well, that.  

Suguru, on the other hand, looks genuinely pissed, close to crushing the beer can in his hands. 

“Don’t tell me you were about to let some random guy take your virginity?” he borderline shouts, incredulous. 

Satoru, unconcerned, shrugs. “Why not?” 

“Because you shouldn’t be letting someone like that be your first time!” Suguru’s voice raises higher, and it comes out almost as a shout. 

“Oh, and who should be my first time?” Satoru drawls, rolling his eyes, hard. “You?” 

“Yeah, someone who loves you and would actually give a shit about you. Someone who loves you for you and not because you have a nice ass or a pretty --”  

Suguru stops abruptly, closing his mouth so hard his teeth click as realisation of what he’s said dawns on him. 

The room goes so silent you could hear a pin drop. No one moves. No one says a word. Everyone avoids eye contact with each other, staring at the wall, the window, the ceiling. Anything else. 

Satoru shifts awkwardly. 

Suguru’s boyfriend stands up, the abrupt movement the only thing breaking everyone out of their standstill.  

“I think I’m gonna go,” he says with no infliction in his voice, scarily even as Suguru reaches out to him. “I think we’re over now, Suguru.” 

“Toru, shit , I mean Tori!” Suguru starts, chasing after him down the hall. Their footsteps echo behind them until the door slams shut. 

“Well,” Mei Mei drawls breaking everyone out of their reverie. “That was interesting.” 

- 

By the time Suguru returns, everyone is well on their way to going home for the evening. Utahime is helping Shoko tidy up, and Mei Mei has long disappeared with all the leftover alcohol.  

Satoru is just putting his jacket on when he finds Suguru waiting for him at the door. 

“Ready?” Suguru asks, car keys in his hands. He eyes run down the length of Satoru’s body, scanning him as if making sure he has all his belongings.  

“Oh,” Satoru says as he realises Nanami and Haibara are no longer around. “Nanami said he’d take me home.” 

“Nanami would have to drive an extra fifteen minutes, and we live together.” 

“What, did he ask you to take me home?” 

“No, I told him I would. He seemed pretty insistent on doing it himself until Haibara told him to think about the environmental impact.”  

“Right.” 

The drive is awkward, and they sit in silence at Satoru fiddles with the radio. The car, normally relatively clean with the occasional candy wrapper, left behind by Satoru, feels almost sterile. 

Stiff, awkward goodnights are exchanged, and by the time Satoru is in bed, he finds that he can’t sleep. He tosses and turns for almost an hour, and finds himself wishing that he could go back to Suguru’s bed again.  

Then again –  

He hadn’t been allowed in Suguru’s bed when he was dating his boyfriend, and if they’re no longer dating, well. 

Satoru doesn’t give himself time to think about it. He jumps out of bed and rapidly makes his way into Suguru’s room. The door rattles open. 

“Satoru?” Suguru drowsily says. 

“Can I –” Satoru gestures to the bed. Suguru contemplates him for a moment, and Satoru squirms under his gaze. Then, wordlessly, Suguru holds the duvet up, allowing Satoru to dive in and curl up next to him.  

Suguru is shirtless, but even in the dark Satoru can see that his skin is free of any marks. He cautiously places his head in the crook of Suguru’s arm, and lets Suguru haul him closer in a familiar, intimate gesture. They’re undeniably cuddling, and like this Satoru’s senses fill with the scent of Suguru’s cologne and tobacco.  

“I’m sorry.” Suguru breathes into his hair, gripping tight at Satoru’s waist. “I’m so, so sorry, Satoru. I missed you.” 

“I missed you.” Satoru confesses. “I missed this.” 

“Not being able to hold you was horrible.” 

“Then why did you let it happen.” Satoru whispers. “We could’ve hugged. We could’ve hung out. Why didn’t you – why didn’t you –” Why didn’t you like me, why didn’t you care about me. Why did you suddenly hate me. 

Satoru feels himself choke out a sob as all his feelings come pouring out. This time there’s no escape, and he feels Suguru stiffen next to him as he’s given a front seat to watch Satoru break down. Suguru somehow pulls him closer, cradling the back of Satoru’s head as buries his face in Suguru’s chest. 

“I'm sorry,” Suguru whispers, and he’s so gently, rubbing calming circles on Satoru’s back. “I’m so sorry.” 

- 

Satoru wakes slowly, blinking away the remnants of sleep. As he stares up at the ceiling, he registers three things: One, he is in Suguru’s room, surrounded by the horrible band posters and drenched in the scent of Suguru’s cologne. Two, he is currently in Suguru’s embrace, the man radiating more heat than the sun. Three, his eyes hurt, burning with discomfort. The remnants of dried tears are uncomfortable on his face.  

Ugh, he needs to wash his face. He must’ve fallen asleep crying, but all he can remember is Suguru slowly running his hands down Satoru’s back and how comforting it had been despite being the reason Satoru was crying. 

Fuck him. Fuck Suguru so much. Because despite it all, he hasn’t slept this well in months. Hasn’t woken up feeling this good in months, either. 

Satoru closes his eyes again, snuggling deeper into Suguru. He can let himself enjoy this for a little longer, whatever this is. He doesn’t dare put words to it, not when he and Suguru haven’t even had a conversation. He knows nothing is going to be the same again, not when he knows he’s in love with Suguru, not when Suguru had hurt him. 

But he does know this is where he wants to be, where he belongs. Right at Suguru’s side. 

The second time Satoru wakes up, Suguru is no longer in bed. His first instinct is to cry again, but then he smells pancake batter through the open door. He follows his nose and finds Suguru in the kitchen, already making breakfast. Suguru tells him to sit down at the table. Wordlessly, Satoru does so, and Suguru hands him a stack of strawberry crepes.  

His face lights up, and Suguru looks relieved. 

As Satoru digs into his breakfast, Suguru brews a cup of coffee for himself. By the time he joins Satoru at the table, Satoru has already demolished half his breakfast. 

“I think I'm going to go out tonight. Is that okay?” Suguru asks, quietly, refusing to make eye contact.  

“Okay,” Satoru says slowly, cautiously. He hasn’t been privy to Suguru’s personal life for the past few months, so why now? 

It feels like Suguru is extending an olive branch, somehow, but the conversation still feels fragile, like they’re walking on eggshells. Satoru has questions, but he doesn’t want to rock the boat and have Suguru pull away again. A Suguru who tells him his plans, now, after all that month?  

He’s missed the status quo, but he doesn’t think he can go back to it.  

“Okay,” Suguru repeats, and Satoru just nods. 

- 

Suguru is drunk. 

Suguru is so, so very drunk. So drunk in fact, it takes both Larue and Miguel to hold him up and bring him inside. Red-faced and disheveled, tripping all over the place and slurring out his words, Suguru is the embodiment of what it means to be intoxicated. 

He’s still in his stupid combat boots when he flops face first on the couch, feet sticking up in the air. He bats his friends away when they try and help, grumbling about something Satoru can’t hear from this far away. Whatever it is, it seems to appease them and with simple goodbyes and reassurance from Satoru that he’ll take care of him, they let themselves out. 

Satoru goes to lock the door, feeling the deafening silence of a long worn-out night. When he returns with a glass of water, Suguru’s still in the same position. 

He sighs. 

When Suguru said he was going out tonight, this is not what Satoru had imagined. And he’d spent all night wondering what Suguru would be up to – the worst-case scenario would’ve been at Torihisa’s, grovelling to take him back, and maybe that’s what Satoru expected. But then, there really was no coming back from embarrassing your boyfriend in front of all your friends like that. 

Suguru’s not really one to drink, though, let alone get this drunk. He’s somewhat of a heavy weight, and Satoru’s seen him do several shots of tequila in a row and still stand up straight. He’s always been so well built, all that muscle mass easily absorbing the alcohol. 

Suguru getting drunk is already weird. Suguru getting sloppy, white girl wasted is, well - this. It could be worse, he thinks. At least he’s home. 

“Come on, Sugu-boo,” Satoru says, fully knowing that Suguru hates that nickname, given to him long ago by Larue. Satoru hates it just as equally, mostly mad that someone else has something with Suguru that he doesn’t. He entertains the thought of Suguru allowing his boyfriend to call him that.  

At the very least, his boyfriend is no longer in the picture. 

“Let’s get these off you,” Satoru coaxes, untying Suguru’s shoelaces. Suguru’s usually the one that helps him when he’s drunk, and given how renowned Satoru is for being such a lightweight, he can’t help but feel a little superior right now. This time it’s not Satoru who’s faceplanted onto the asphalt.  

He gets Suguru’s boots off and throws them somewhere on the floor behind him where they land with a thud. He coaxes Suguru into sitting upright and pushes the glass of water into his hands. 

“Here, drink,” Satoru murmurs, and Suguru promptly dumps the glass into the plant next to him. 

Satoru’s face contorts into one of disbelief and outrage. “Suguru!” 

“You didn’t say I had to drink it!” Suguru defends, as if Satoru could’ve meant literally anything else. “Plants drink water, too!” 

Satoru scowls, unimpressed by his logic, but as he stands to refill the glass, Suguru stops him. He grabs Satoru by the wrist and pulls him back down and into his lap. 

Satoru almost drops the glass, managing to place it on their coffee table at the last second.  

“No, stay.” Suguru whines, nuzzling into Satoru’s neck. He inhales deeply. “You smell so good.” 

He can’t say the same for Suguru – Suguru smells like shit. A mixture of sweat and body odour and alcohol with the lingering scent of tobacco. He’d try and get Suguru to shower before bed, but truthfully, he’s kind of scared Suguru might trip and drown himself or something.  

“So good,” Suguru continues saying to himself, still nuzzling into Satoru’s neck. “Missed this. Missed you,” he continues mumbling. 

He noses at Satoru’s jaw, a sensitive, soft spot that has Satoru jerking out of Suguru’s reach, but he snakes one of his hands around Satoru’s waist, keeping him close. The touches quickly turn less innocent, and Satoru feels Suguru’s chapped lips against his neck, pressing chaste kisses along the column of his neck.  

“S-Suguru?” 

“You’re so pretty, Satoru,” Suguru says, leaving a kiss on his shoulder. “So, so pretty. Did you know? Did you know that you’re the prettiest?” 

He looks up at Satoru, so earnest and drunk, and Satoru can’t help but melt at the sight. 

“I - well, obviously,” Satoru says, scoffing, but his cheeks are burning red, and he’s still trapped in Suguru’s lap. Suguru, who must be drunker than he thought, and won’t remember this night at all. 

“You’re beautiful,” Suguru whispers, and he pushes some of Satoru’s hair off his face. “You’re so goddamn beautiful, Satoru.” 

And this … this feels like something that’s becoming a little too much, blurring the edge of their friendship more than the last few months already have. Obviously, Satoru is like, objectively beautiful, and Suguru must have already known, but this – this is different. 

Satoru squirms where he is. Suguru, who has a much stronger grip, doesn’t let him go.  

“I love you,” he whispers, amber eyes boring into his with so much verity and affection Satoru knows he’s telling the truth. He’d never lie to Satoru like that, but he must be. He has to be. 

Suguru can’t love him. Suguru can’t have loved him and let him suffer all these months. It’s impossible. 

“You’re drunk,” Satoru tries, and Suguru laughs. He leans in, but Satoru expects this, and bolts up and away from the couch just in time to miss Suguru trying to kiss him. He’s lucky Suguru is surprised enough to let him go. 

Suguru pouts, and he looks so disappointed Satoru feels his heart break just looking at him. It’s worse than looking at a kicked puppy. It’s like looking at a sad Haibara or Yuji. 

“Satoru,” Suguru says, and his name sounds like heaven from his lips. 

“Satoru, Satoru, Satoru,” He chants, beckoning Satoru over.  

But he stays strong. “Come on, Sugu-Boo,” he tries again. “Let’s get you to bed.” 

Some gentle persuasion is all it takes to get Suguru back into his room. Satoru isn’t able to get him into his pajamas, but he is he able to convince him to brush his teeth. They get far enough that Suguru strips his clothes off down to his boxers and Satoru averts his eyes, even though they’ve seen each other naked before. 

“You’re going to stay with me, right?” Suguru asks. 

Satoru frowns. “I have my own bed, Suguru.” 

“But it’s so lonely without you. You slept with me last night.” 

“Come on,” Satoru says, ignoring him and holding the duvet up. 

Suguru gets under, wriggling around to get himself comfortable. Before Satoru can leave, a sturdy arm pulls him down. Suguru manhandles him like he weighs nothing, pulling him in so they’re back to chest and Suguru cuddles him like a body pillow once more. 

“Don’t want you to go,” Suguru slurs into Satoru’s hair, voice muffled. “I love you.”  

That, of course, comes out clearly. Satoru’s heart skips a beat. 

He takes a deep breath. 

“Fine, but you better not fucking throw up on me in your sleep,” Satoru says, trying to keep his voice as stable as possible, even though it doesn’t matter. Suguru won’t remember this anyway.  

He’s drunk and a liar. 

“Promise’” Suguru says. 

- 

Satoru wakes to the furnace that is Suguru carding his fingers through his hair. When Suguru notices he’s finally woken up, he stiffens, and Satoru allows himself a few more moments of silent bliss before he tries to blink himself awake.  

He props himself up on Suguru’s bare chest, trying to ignore the pool of drool left behind. 

“Hey,” he says and tries to be super casual. Like, easy breezy. Normal. 

“Hi,” Suguru breaths out, and at least he has the wherewithal to look partially embarrassed. 

“Remember anything from last night?” Satoru asks, expecting the answer to be no. 

“I remember telling my best friend that I’m in love with him,” Suguru says. Also casual, but there’s an edge of worry in his voice. One that Satoru knows means he’s scared Satoru will hate him forever. 

His best friend, huh? Interesting that he still thinks of Satoru that way despite how he’s treated him the past few months.  

“Why did you do that?” Satoru asks, careful to keep his easy breezy tone, as if he’s asking out of simple curiosity.  

“Why -- What do you mean why?” 

“I mean you just broke up with Torihisa. Why would you go around telling other people you love them? Why would you go around telling me you love me? Especially after neglecting me all these months?” Satoru spills out, unable to hold back any longer.  

The more he thinks about it, the angrier he gets at Suguru’s confession. What is wrong with him? Briefly, Satoru wonders if Suguru is some kind of psychopath. He is good at concealing his emotions.  

"I, uh,” Suguru is taken aback, eyes wide and unable to form words as his mouth gapes open and closed. Satoru sees him swallow, his free hand gripping at the bedsheets. 

“I’m not waiting around all day for you to answer, Suguru,” Satoru says impatiently, making a show of slowly getting out of bed.  

“I was drunk!” Suguru blurts out, so unlike him that it even stuns Satoru. He winces at his words, then in a timid voice, says, “I didn’t mean to.” 

“That doesn’t change anything! For how long, Suguru? Because it wasn’t a magical, overnight thing. How long have you been in love with me while actively dating someone else, hurting both him and me?” 

“I didn’t mean to -” 

“- Hurt me? But you did.” Satoru shoves at him, but before he can storm off, Suguru’s grabbing him by the waist, hauling him back into bed, just like he did the night before. 

“Listen-” 

“-No!” 

Satoru squirms, putting all of his strength into fighting off Suguru until he’s reminded once again just how much stronger the man in question is. They wrestle on the bed until Suguru’s decided he’s had enough and pins Satoru down, straddling him by the hips. 

Despite Satoru’s anger, his cock still twitches when he’s reminded of how strong Suguru is, how easily he can throw Satoru around.  

This just makes Satoru angrier.  

“ Listen to me.” 

“Ugh, at least shower first. You smell disgusting.” 

“If I let you go, you’re going to run away.” 

“I already have to look at your dumb face, don’t make me smell you, either. It’s pissing me off.” 

Suguru sighs, then runs a hand through his greasy hair. “Fine, just – just give me thirty minutes and meet me in the living room.” 

Satoru scowls but acquiesces. He takes his own quick shower and brushes his teeth, then marches out into the living room in sweats that are too short for him. The living room is neutral territory, even though their apartment has felt more like his own than theirs over the past few months.  

When Suguru joins him on the couch, his hair is still damp. He looks like he wants to say something, staring down at Satoru’s bare ankles, but instead he pulls Satoru close, almost on his lap. Satoru scowls and crosses his arms. 

He still lets it happen, though. 

“You’re an asshole,” he says, fighting the urge to kick Suguru in the shin. 

“I know,” Suguru says, remorseful. 

“Like, the king of assholes, even.” 

“I know.” 

Satoru frowns. He really is going to kick Suguru if this is all he’s going to say. “Don’t you have anything else to say?” 

“You haven’t let me explain!” 

“Because you’re an asshole.” 

Suguru sighs again. Satoru is sick of it. “Well, you can’t be all that angry if you haven’t moved, yet.” 

Satoru kicks him, and without skipping a beat, Suguru grabs underneath his knees, easily maneuvering them so that Satoru is sitting sideways. He cradles Satoru, and Satoru lets him. 

“I can’t believe you,” 

“Just stop being difficult for once and let me explain!” 

“Oh, I’m difficult? I have a right to be!” 

“Satoru,” Suguru says, a warning edge in his tone. It’s accompanied by a squeeze to his thigh, a warning to behave. It has Satoru sitting up straight, gulping down another snarky comments. 

“Go on, then.” 

“I didn’t ... Look, I liked Torihisa at first, which is why when he first got jealous, I decided to stop being so touchy with you. He was jealous and thought I was only dating him to make you jealous or something, which I thought was insane.” 

Satoru nods along. 

“And then the problem just ... exacerabted, I don’t know. You seemed so sad, and I didn’t know what to do without upsetting Torihisa, and then you seemed even more upset, so I tried getting out of the house more and then the whole camping thing happened and fuck, Satoru, I didn’t know what to do.” 

Hesitantly, Satoru asks, “What made you realise you were in love with me?” 

Reflexively, Suguru squeezes Satoru’s waist, the warmth of his hand reaching Satoru even with the fabric of his shirt between them. 

“When you went out with Yuuji’s uncle, I think,” Suguru recalls with a pensive look on his face. “Yuuji mentioned it off handedly in a text and I just happened to look down and read it. I was freaking out because he’s insane and I thought he was going to make you cry or something. I didn’t want you to be upset, and I rushed out in the middle of a date with Torihisa. As soon as I was driving home, I realised that wasn’t a normal reaction to have.” 

“Torihisa must have been mad.” 

“Oh, he was pissed, but not as much as I was when I realised that he was right about me being in love with you. It felt like I couldn’t break up with him, because then I was proving him right, and there was no reason to since you clearly didn’t have feelings for me if you were with someone else, so ... I don’t know. It made sense to keep dating him and find happiness with someone else the way you did.” 

Satoru snorts. “What, and the idea of me losing my virginity to someone else broke you?” 

“I didn’t know you were a virgin.” 

“ How?”  

“I just assumed you didn’t like to talk about your sex life!” Suguru exclaims. “I don’t talk about mine with you.” 

“Yeah, you just make me hear about it.” 

“... Are the walls really that thin?” 

“I was not fucking kidding.” 

“I’m sorry,” Suguru says, hiding his face in Satoru’s neck, sounding like a broken record. “I’m sorry.” 

“You chose someone else over me. You left me and abandoned me. You forgot me. You made me feel like shit for months. How am I supposed to ever trust you again?” Satoru’s voice cracks. 

“I never forgot about you. That time we went camping? I legitimately thought you’d be getting a ride with someone else, and I thought about you the entire time and felt so guilty I wasn’t bringing you, then even worse that I was wrong. I thought about you when packing and brought sunscreen and your favourite chips and the aloe vera, because I knew you wouldn’t pack it. I -”  

Suguru cuts himself off, then. “Things can never be the same again, can they?” Satoru nods. “I don’t think I want them to be.” 

Satoru feels his face twist in something mournful, the bitterness of it all stuck in his mouth. Suguru keeps talking, though. 

“I want you as my boyfriend, Satoru, not as my best friend.” Suguru looks at him, then, so earnest and hopeful and scared it makes all of Satoru’s anger and sadness dissipate.  

“Bold of you to assume I like you that way,.” Satoru tries, and Suguru softly smiles. 

“I know you do, Satoru.” And he’s right, even if Satoru hasn’t said it out loud, it’s in his actions not his words, he’s hurt and mad at Suguru and yet, he sits cozy in his lap.  

Satoru mulls over his words. Slowly, hesitantly, he leans in and presses his lips against Suguru’s. He doesn’t give himself the time to second guess his decision, and Suguru’s lips are soft and warm against his. Suguru kisses back gently, time slowing down as they sit there kissing each other. 

“I don’t know if I can forgive you just yet.” Satoru whispers when they break apart. 

“That’s okay. You can take your time, and when you do. I’ll take you on a proper date.” 

“Okay,” Satoru breathes, and then kisses him again. 

- 

It’s fragile, but eventually the cracks begin to mend while everything falls back into place.  

It starts with breakfast when Satoru slides in next to Suguru while he makes pancakes, and he wraps an arm around Satoru’s waist as he peers over the stove. Then while on the couch watching a movie, slowly gravitating towards each other from opposites ends. When leaving for class one day, Suguru invades Satoru’s space and fixes the buttons on his shirt, and Satoru slips into his bed at night again and again. 

Slowly but surely, their relationship repairs. And Satoru couldn’t be happier. 

Except for one thing, anyway.  

“Suguuuuuru,” Satoru croons, nuzzling into Suguru’s thigh. He’s been lying on the couch with his head in Suguru’s lap while playing on his phone, Suguru finishing up a reading for one of his classes. “When are you going to take me on that date now?”  

Suguru places his book on the table next to him. “Let me get my test results back first,.” Hhe says, easily. 

“Test results? For what?” Satoru turns up to look at him. It’s an extremely unflattering angle that makes Satoru laugh. 

“To make sure I’m clean.” 

“Clean of what?” 

“Satoru, really?” Suguru is looking at him like he’s the dumbest person on the planet with the added dash of fondness, annoyance, and exasperation. Satoru runs through the last few weeks. The last thing Suguru did testing for was – 

His face heats up at his own stupidity. 

“Oh, right,” he says with a shit eating grin, ignoring how red he feels. “I forgot that you’re a huge slut.” 

Suguru pushes him off of him, and he lands on the floor laughing. 

- 

The day of their date, Satoru stands in the middle of his room, trying to decide on an outfit. He has no idea what to expect other than “look pretty” which is somewhat redundant, because Satoru’s always pretty. What he has decided on, though, is a pair of lacy pink panties with a butterfly bow on the back that makes his ass look fantastic. A nice surprise for when Suguru inevitably undresses him later. 

“Hey, have you seen my –” The door swings open, revealing Suguru, who freezes, taking in Satoru’s almost naked body. 

His eyes widen a little, and a hint of hunger flashing in them. 

“Satoru,” he says, and oh. Oh. His voice pitches lower, and he doesn’t take his eyes off Satoru as he closes the door behind him. “I’m going to take your virginity now.”  

In seconds he’s across the room, throwing Satoru onto the bed. Satoru lands with a squeal before Suguru’s body covers his own, making space between his legs and kissing him fiercely.  

“Suguru, I had a whole plan!” Satoru wails when his back hits the mattress, Suguru’s lips moving to attach themselves to his neck. “I was going to finger myself open -” Suguru laps at his collar bone. “- Plug myself open for you -” Suguru’s teeth graze at a nipple. “-Are you even listening? ” 

“Only for a ‘no.’” Suguru remarks, still kissing and biting down the length of Satoru’s torso. “I don’t think you mind, though.” 

Satoru doesn’t have a retort to that, not when Suguru is down to his hip bone, the feeling of his lips causing fireworks throughout Satoru’s body. His hands grip the bedsheets underneath as he gasps when Suguru mouths over his hard cock underneath his panties. 

“These are so pretty, baby,” Suguru coos, dipping two fingers underneath the waist band and tugging. They snap back against Satoru’s skin. “You wearing these just for me?” 

Satoru’s face heats up. “Shut up, Suguru.” 

“Look at how hard you are from just a little bit of kissing,” Suguru continues, most definitely not shutting up. “Let me take these off you.” 

Satoru doesn’t protest, lifting his hips up so Suguru can pull his only piece of clothing down long legs. He’d almost expected Suguru to rip them off with how feral he’d looked, and he’s left completely naked beneath a fully clothed Suguru as he hungrily rakes his eyes over Satoru’s bare body. 

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” 

Above him, Suguru’s looking fairly ethereal himself, long hair spilling down his shoulders, broad shoulders that Satoru can’t wait to scratch up and plush lips that Satoru wants to bite into it. 

Satoru wants him naked, now.  

“Suguruuuu,” Satoru whines, pouting just to further his point. “It’s not fair that you’re still wearing clothes, too.” 

He slides a hand down Suguru’s back and tugs at the hem of his shirt.  

“Give me a second, I want to admire you first,” Suguru says, and under his heated gaze, Satoru squirms. He looks as if he wants to eat Satoru whole.  

“Su-Gu-Ru, ” he whines again, impatiently accenting each syllable, fisting at Suguru’s shirt.  

Suguru laughs, and a wolfish grin takes over his handsome face. “You want me naked that badly?” 

“I’m bored! You’re boring me!” 

It’s also embarrassing and vulnerable and unfair the way he’s fully laid out, his hard cock leaking for Suguru to see. Suguru sees right through him though, and a teasing smirk crossed onto his face. He squeezes Satoru’s dick, causing him to hiss out. 

“I’m going to fuck you,” Suguru says, factually. He languidly strokes Satoru, never taking his eyes off Satoru’s face. “Any preference on how?”  

“Raw.” The words are out before Satoru can even process what he’s saying. 

Suguru laughs again. “You’re so cute. I fully intend on cumming in you.”  

“Promise?” 

“Promise.” And then Suguru is deeply kissing him again.  

Satoru wraps his arms around Suguru, pulling him close as the kiss turns needy and desperate. Suguru slips his tongue into Satoru’s mouth, massaging them together, eliciting drawn out, heady moans. They’re muffled by Suguru’s mouth against his. Suguru kisses him with so much skill and finesse it kind of makes him mad, but when Suguru nips at his lower lip, he gasps, rutting his hips up against Suguru.  

Suguru rolls his hips back against his and oh . Through the fabric of Suguru’s sweats, Satoru can feel his length, and he feels big.   

Suguru grinds against him, over and over again, leaving Satoru feeling faint, and his clothed dick against Satoru has him shivering in pleasure. He can barely think. All he knows is he needs Suguru. 

“Want you,” Satoru slurs out. “Please,” 

“So needy,” Suguru coos, but he seems to take pity on him, pulling back to take off his own clothes. 

He reaches for the hem of his shirt and pulls it off in one swift motion, throwing it to the floor, then reaches for the waistband of his pants. He pulls his boxers and sweats down and off, and Satoru sees his dick spring free of the constraints of his clothing. 

His eyes go wide. Suguru is hung.  

He whimpers. 

“You’re not going to fit,” Satoru says as Suguru fully kicks off his pants, panic starting to fill him. “There’s no way. Why didn’t you tell me you had such a huge, double XL magnum cock?” 

“We’ll make it fit,” Suguru says, looking far too amused as he leans down to kiss Satoru again. It’s distracting enough that Satoru almost forgets about the issue until he hears Suguru reaching over for the lube he knows Satoru keeps in his nightstand drawer.  

“Suguru,” he starts in a small voice. 

“I’ll take care of you.” Suguru promises. “I love you. Here,”  

Suguru pulls back and grabs the back of Satoru’s thighs, lifting them up and gesturing for Satoru to hold them. It’s embarrassing as hell being in this position, and Satoru’s face heats up in once again when he realises Suguru is staring at his hole with desire and infatuation.  

"Fuck, you have the prettiest hole,” Suguru mutters, more to himself than Satoru, and then he’s leaning down, his tongue is licking up Satoru’s hole, wet and sloppy and oh so delicious. 

Fuck, it feels so good – Satoru isn’t expecting for how good it instantly feels, and he keens, bucking his hips up against Suguru, crying out for more. He sobs Suguru’s name as Suguru enthusiastically eats him out, his legs falling into Suguru’s shoulders. Suguru’s hands come to grab around his thighs with a bruising grip, keeping him spread open just for him. 

His tongue delves in, massaging his insides and licking into him. It’s so good that Satoru begins to go lightheaded, drowning in pleasure and letting out desperate mewls.  

It feels like he’s going to come, except he’s never come like this, doesn’t know if he even can. He cries out, calling for Suguru’s name, begging him to slow down or stop but Suguru keeps going, and going, and going, and then he’s seeing stars, eyes rolling back to his head, crying out Suguru’s name as he comes. 

When Suguru comes up, there’s spit running down his mouth, but he looks smug and self-satisfied. 

“Good?” he asks with a kiss to the inside of Satoru’s thigh. One kiss becomes two, and then he’s nibbling on the inside of Satoru’s thighs, and Satoru can’t fucking breath. 

"I thought,” Satoru chokes out, unable to focus on anything but Suguru’s mouth on him. “You were going to fuck me.” 

He hears the cap of the lube open. 

Satoru’s fingered himself before, but this is different, better. Suguru’s fingers are so much bigger, unpredictable as they prod at Satoru’s insides. Suguru reaches one finger inside him, and then one becomes two, and two becomes three, and then Suguru grazes Satoru’s prostate, the thrill of electric shock going up his spine. 

His eyes flutter closed as makes a soft gasp of pleasure. Suguru chuckles. 

“Feeling good, baby?” 

“So, so good, Sugu,” he slurs out. 

It’s pure ecstasy as Suguru keeps up his onslaught of pleasure, never letting up once. Satoru feels his toes curl, the arousal heating up in his stomach. It’s good, so good, and he feels himself dissolve into nothing but pleasure. There are tears in his eyes as he struggles to hold on. 

“I’m going to cum,” Satoru cries, suddenly. He can’t, not now, not without Suguru inside him. “Please please please Suguru, fuck me right now. ” 

“Go ahead, baby,” Suguru says, and somehow, everything feels better as Suguru stretches and crooks and rubs his fingers inside Satoru. His orgasm comes fast and hard, and he comes with a scream of Suguru’s name and he spurts all over himself. 

Suguru doesn’t stop, keeps going until Satoru is outright crying, clenching around his fingers and trying to arch away from him. He fingers Satoru through his orgasm before slowing down, and then gingerly pulls his fingers out. Immediately Satoru mourns the loss of them and the emptiness he’s feeling.  

“Ready for me?” Suguru asks, and Satoru helplessly nod. Suguru’s given so much, and now it’s his turn to take.  

Suguru re-positions himself. Satoru feels the head of his massive cock at his entrance breach him, then ever so slowly inches forward, pushing past that first ring of muscle. 

“Breath for me, baby,” Suguru says with a hand on Satoru’s stomach. He helps count Satoru’s breaths – 5 seconds breath in, hold, 5 seconds breath out. He inches in every time Satoru breaths in until he’s fully seated inside of him, and fuck, does Satoru feel full. It’s so good, connected to Suguru like this. Suguru is inside of him , splitting him in two. He wants to cry. He wants to moan. He wants to keep Suguru here forever. 

Suguru’s bare cock inside his body. 

Suguru kisses him, alternating between his mouth and neck, leaving behind purple bruises. Once Satoru seems settled enough, Suguru asks “Can I move?”  and Satoru nods.  

Suguru tests the waters by pulling out ever so slightly then back in, pulling out more and picking up speed as Satoru gets more comfortable. Satoru wraps his legs around Suguru’s waist, urging him in deeper. Soon, Satoru is a drooling mess, breathless as Suguru picks up speed pounds into him, punching out moans from Satoru as he hits his prostate with ever thrust.  

“Look at you,” Suguru coos, breathing hard. “You’re taking my cock so well.” 

He grinds into Satoru, drives his cock deeper, using Satoru’s body as he chases his own satisfaction, and it’s so fucking good.  

“I’m going to – I think I’m going to cum,” Satoru breathes out, reaching down to touch himself. 

Suguru bats his hand away, far too composed for how good he’s fucking Satoru. “How about we get you to cum untouched your first time. Wouldn’t that be fun, baby?” 

“I need -”  

“Shhh,” Suguru coos, keeping up the steady onslaught of short, hard thrusts that have Satoru seeing another dimension. “I know what you need.” 

It’s so good it’s overwhelming, Satoru nothing but a doll for Suguru to fuck into. He’s only vaguely aware of the moans that can’t stop falling from his mouth.  

He’s going to cum. He needs to cum. He arches his back, needing more , chasing that pleasure and encouraging Suguru deeper with keening whines. It’s so so so good and he needs to cum right now.  

“Suguru,” he cries, and then Suguru is grabbing the back of his thighs, pressing them further back, fucking him harder and faster. 

Satoru explodes. 

“Suguru!”  

He comes with a cry, unable to stop the desperate sounds he’s making as Suguru fucks him through his orgasm. There are tears in his eyes at how overwhelming it is, but Satoru doesn’t want it to ever end. Wants to keep Suguru inside him forever. 

By the time Satoru has come down from the aftershocks, Suguru is kissing him again, massaging his tongue with his own, still rock hard. Even just having him inside is amazing, and Satoru smiles, nuzzling against his face. 

“Aren’t you going to cum, too? 

“Are you good to keep going?” Suguru asks, voice laced with concern. 

Satoru nods. “I was promised a creampie. I want a creampie.” 

Suguru laughs, pressing their foreheads together. “Whatever you want, Toru.” 

Suguru slowly pulls out then back in, starting with shallow thrusts and slowly building momentum. He’s careful not to overwhelm Satoru, but it’s so good that Satoru might think he might cum again, anyway. 

He finishes all over himself right as Suguru does inside him. It’s warm and it’s sticky and he couldn’t be happier. 

- 

“Did you know that the walls are thin?” Satoru says ask once they’re all cleaned up, even though he knows Suguru knows considering the amount of times he’s mentioned it before. He snuggles up against Suguru, limbs feeling like jelly. He’s sore as hell in a delicious kind of way, and Suguru is so warm. “Used to hear Torihisa screaming allll the time. Thought he was exaggerating because there’s no way anyone is that good.” 

“Mhm, and what’s the verdict?” There’s a hint of amusement in Suguru’s voice as he wraps an arm around Satoru and tugs him closer. 

“You’re definitely some kind of sex god.” 

Suguru snorts. “Okay, virgin.” 

“You want me to fuck someone else and compare?” 

“I just made you cum twice with my ‘huge double XL magnum cock’ so sure, find someone else who can compare. I certainly won’t be able to find someone with hole as great as yours.” 

“You’re so mean to me.” 

Suguru kisses him. “You’re beautiful. I love you.” 

- 

On a day like any other, Satoru is all over Suguru, sitting in his lap, hands thrown around his shoulders. They’re shameless with their affection, kissing where everyone can see them. 

Satoru’s got a tongue down Suguru’s throat when they’re accosted by a far too shrill, annoyingly familiar voice.  

“I fucking knew you had feelings for him!” 

Satoru and Suguru pull away, only to find Suguru’s ex a few feet away. He’s pointing at them accusingly, an ugly sneer painted across his just as ugly face. 

“Actually, it’s all thanks to you,” Satoru says, unfazed. “You could’ve been happy with your boyfriend, but instead you had to be all weird and convince him he was in love with someone else. And now I get to ride on that massive cock, instead. So, thank you,” Satoru grins cheerily.  

Torihisa huffs and walks away.  

His unwanted presence is replaced by Yuji and Megumi who casually stroll towards them, hand in hand, head turned in the direction of Torihisa stomping away.  

“What was that?” Megumi asks, an eyebrow quirked, then narrowing his eyes as he takes in the sight of Satoru in Suguru’s lap. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Satoru says with a shrug, tilting his head to give Suguru another peck on the lips. 

Yuji screams, knees bent and his hands coming up to hold his head. “Gumi! D-Did you just see what I see?” 

Megumi sighs something resigned and pulls a chair out to take a seat. “Yes Yuji, I guess it finally happened.” 

“FINALLY!!” Yuji exclaims, throwing his large body across the table dramatically. 

Satoru and Suguru share a laugh. Well, if nothing else, at least their kids were happy for them.