Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Gojo Satoru always knew he was a person of very strong convictions.

More than that, he always knew he was extremely stubborn and confident in his decisions; if he made up his mind to follow path A instead of B, nothing and no one would be able to change his mind. 

This could be seen in his way of working, for example; Seeking a new paid media investor without even consulting the market because he thought the current one was too lazy? Yeah, he definitely should do that. Recreating the company's entire Relationship Marketing plan in one night? Consider it done. Creating a new pitch from scratch in less than a week for the project presentation because he thought the old one seemed too cheesy? Sure! Why not?

And the best part of all this? His choices always ended up being productive for the company; no matter how impulsive his decision was, he always made the right call. Of course, he drove a few colleagues here and there crazy... And there was that one time his father nearly had a heart attack when he realized the entire paid media system had been revamped overnight… But hey! That's the downside of being a literal genius around mere mortals, right?

And honestly? This was always a personality trait he considered positive, if not incredibly ego-stirring. Throughout his life, Satoru was convinced he could achieve whatever he wanted once he made up his mind.

That’s what led him to believe that befriending Geto Suguru was a good idea. Actually, not just believe—no. He was completely convinced of it. He spared just one glance at his way in that rainy afternoon and automatically decided they should be friends. Or better yet, best friends.

And what a huge, fucked-up mistake that was. 

Because now he can't eat, can't sleep, can't live his life the way he used to. Ever since that fateful day at the gym two months ago, Satoru feels like he's never been the same. He feels like he's going to suffocate with so many feelings and sensations he's never experienced before, that he doesn't even know what to do with. His body feels too big and his chest too small, it feels like his heart is going to come out of his throat. 

And maybe he's just being dramatic? Yeah. Maybe. Or maybe he really is dying. 

It feels like dying, at least.

But let's rewind and explain the situation a little better.

It all started on a boring, dull Thursday. The weather had been bad all day, with sporadic rains lashing in Tokyo. The sky was painted with a sickly gray color, the soft but constant sound of the howling wind was present everywhere, making it clear that the late-afternoon rainy season would probably begin some time around this month. Soon, the city streets would be filled with reddish and maple-brown colors thanks to the ginkgo trees, indicating the end of the warm season and the beginning of autumn. 

Call Satoru crazy, but despite the depressing weather outside, he couldn't be more excited about the change in temperature, since he always felt he was more productive during the colder times of the year; he'd be able to perform better at work, wake up without feeling like a sweaty, oily mess, and go to bed without having to turn the air conditioning down to the lowest setting. Not to mention, all his work outfits looked much better in the fall and winter. 

Satoru decided to take advantage of the fading daylight and go to the gym to workout a little bit, just to let off some steam. It had been a while since he'd had any free time to train because of his job, and the lack of movement his body was experiencing was starting to drive him a little crazy. 

Even though he worked mostly from home for his father's drugstore company as head of Content Marketing, he still had a lot of work to do… turns out being a nepobaby wasn't the easiest thing to be after all, especially if your father is one of the richest and more disciplined men in Japan. Either way, the last few days had been so busy that Satoru had to go to the company to meet with some important clients in person alongside his colleague and best friend from Paid Media and Performance, Kento Nanami. 

And today was a day exactly like those. 

Satoru arrived at his apartment feeling suffocated and exhausted after a long workday of meetings and presentations regarding the latest projects developed to the Gojo Enterprise's clients. He unfastened his favorite blue tie, taking a deep breath and running his hands around the junction between his neck and shoulders, realizing his body was sore all over. 

He stretched his arms above his head slowly and felt his muscles protest at the movement, making Satoru curse softly at his empty apartment.

Damn. He was really feeling stiff, his body tense from the last few days. Dealing with boring customers and an even more boring Nanami was so stressful that Satoru was seriously thinking of informing his father that he would be taking at least one week off to relax a bit.

And, well. Call Satoru spoiled if you want, but could you really blame him? All the work he was assigned to deliver was already completed, and he had even left everything organized so that his colleagues would have no problem in starting to produce the next two or three projects by themselves. 

But what if, even then, some super specific kind of disaster happened even though he had left everything ready perfectly in advance? Well. Then Satoru was sure that Naoya Zenin could stop being an annoying jerk for at least five minutes and be somewhat helpful in solving the problem; that bastard was always trying to suck up to him anyway, sneaking around the company hallways and trying to act like him, so Satoru might as well put him to good use.

He quickly crossed his living room, entering his suite and heading towards his closet to change out of his work outfit, irritated by the images of Naoya suddenly filling his mind. If Satoru could, he would have punched that smug smile out of his colleague's face a long time ago. 

But he knew he had to hold back; like Nanami said to him some months ago, ignorant jerks like him were useful to have around. Well, sometimes. Like 20% of the time. But oh well. 

Satoru removed his tie with a tired groan, entering the tiny closet and automatically searching for his gym clothes, taking off the ones he was wearing and putting them in the laundry basket to wash later. He ultimately decided to go with some basic black shorts and an old digimon hoodie that he always wore to train, wanting to feel comfortable more than anything after such a stressful day. A little exercise for his body would do his mind good, he was sure of it. 

After getting dressed and applying his favorite citrus cologne for the gym, he headed to his kitchen to prepare his pre-workout drink. He opted for something simpler and light: a white chocolate whey protein shake with some creatine powder for extra energy. He decided to add two spoons of sugar to make the drink extra sweet, and then he added three more, just for good measure. While he was sipping it, Satoru sent a quick text to his father, letting him know he was taking one week off. He was quickly replied with a thumbs-up emoji.

Well. That was easy. Being the boss's son had its perks. Maybe being a nepobaby wasn’t that bad, after all.

Soon enough, he was already at his door again, lacing his sneakers and getting ready to leave. The way to his neighborhood gym wasn't that far, but Satoru thought it was best to go by car, since the weather seemed to be getting worse with every passing minute. 

If things continued like this, Tokyo would be facing a storm soon.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯     ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Fifteen minutes later Satoru was already inside the gym, surrounded by the characteristic noise of gym equipment and weights hitting each other, a generic pop music playing in the background. 

The contrast between the bright yellow lights and the gym's blue LEDs made Satoru feel a quick jolt of pain behind his eyes, a sign that his vision would likely suffer from the sensitivity caused by not wearing his glasses soon. He knew his doctor would curse his ancestors if he found out he wasn't wearing his prescribed glasses lately—something about how his eyes were an abnormal shade of blue and therefore more photosensitive to light—but he couldn't help it. He hated the feeling of the rims around his face, and he hated even more how childish he looked when he wore them. So no, thank you; he'd rather have to deal with the occasional ache every now and then after straining his vision a little too much than looking like a pathetic nerd.

As soon as he finished that thought, Satoru felt another burst of pain that made his stomach flip a little, but he did his best to ignore it and head towards the area where most of the arm training equipment was located.

After stretching his body, he did some shoulder and triceps exercises, trying his best to focus on the muscles he was working with and keeping his breathing light and rhythmic. He was relieved to realize that the pain was actually making him feel good; he could feel his muscles finally letting go, the buzz behind his head getting a little quiet after weeks of being there. 

Still, Satoru couldn't help but feel a little distracted by the realization that everyone in the gym was training with someone. 

He stopped his barbell curl training and observed the two boys doing the triceps pulley exercise in front of him; the taller one had striking pink hair and a boyish smile on his face, and he kept chattering nonstop to the boy with spiky black hair who was with him. Satoru realized with amusement that even though the boy had a bored expression on his face, he was listening attentively to everything his friend was saying. 

But what probably truly touched Satoru more was the happy, caring energy he could feel radiating from the two of them. They were helping each other workout, trading weights and alternating exercises with such a synchrony that made it obvious they were very close. 

The simplicity and purity of the feelings radiating from them made Satoru smile a little without realizing it—but it also left a little pang of loneliness in his chest.

It must be nice to train with someone, Satoru thought. It had been a while since he'd seen his friends. Or rather, it had been a long time since he had had a social interaction that wasn't linked to his professional life. As much as he considered Nanami one of his closest friends since high school, he knew the blond was getting fed up with him, considering all the time they've had to spend together at work in the last few weeks.  

But still, it was worth a try, wasn't it? He knew Nanami trained a bit at home and took weekly yoga and pilates classes (just like an old man), and it was obvious that he cared about his appearance, considering his physique and health. So maybe he'd be excited to join Satoru at the gym, right? Or Satoru could convince him to at least try after annoying him a little bit.

Yeah, that sounded like a good plan. Satoru quickly grabbed his phone and started typing a message to his friend.

Satoru [17:52 pm]
hey Nanaminnnnn

Kento [17:52 pm]
Please don't.

Satoru [17:52 pm]
wtf man
i was just saying hi?????

Kento [17:52 pm]
Just don’t.

Satoru [17:52 pm]
my dude
i just want to talk????

Kento [17:53 pm]
I’ve spent the whole week by your side.
For God's sake
Give me a break.

Satoru [17:53 pm]
OKAY THEN
goodbye
i hope i die.
then you will feel guilty for the rest of your life.

Kento is typing…

Satoru let out a small chuckle, knowing that no matter how much Nanami pretended not to care, deep down his friend couldn't stand him making those self-deprecating jokes; he was too soft-hearted for that, and Satoru made sure to take advantage of it every time. 

He watched the typing bubble next to Nanami's name appear and reappear several times, and he could almost feel his friend holding back a curse.

Just as Satoru was about to send him a message again, he was hit with the strange intuition that someone was watching him. 

A shiver ran down his spine. Satoru couldn't explain it, but he could practically feel the presence of a pair of eyes on him.

He looked up from his phone, scanning the gym with a small frown, trying to find the source of the feeling. At first glance, nothing seemed wrong—he couldn't see anyone staring at him, all the students seemed to be focused on their own little world with their training partners. But he didn't have much time to investigate the room more carefully, as his phone beeped immediately afterward, signaling that Nanami had responded to him. 

Satoru shook his head and let out a sigh. He was probably feeling so tired that his fatigue was playing tricks on him. Of course no one was watching him, why would they? 

He decided to let go of the subject, reluctantly turning his attention back to his device.

Kento [17:55 pm]
I hate you.
Seriously.
Just say what you want.

Kento [17:56 pm]
wHY the fuck aren't you answering right now

Satoru [17:56 pm]
hey now
aren't you the one who always tells me to watch my mouth?

Kento [17:56 pm]
i’m so tired

Satoru [17:56 pm]
and if you hate me why are you still here talking to me?
hmmmmmmmmmm? 

Kento [17:56 pm]
Because you’re needy.
And will die if don't get any attention for at least 5 minutes.

Satoru [17:57 pm]
i'm going to pretend you didn't say that

Kento [17:57 pm]
Gojo

Satoru [17:57 pm]
you loooooovee meeeeeeee

Kento [17:57 pm]
Gojo.
Just.
Say.
What.
You. 
Want.

Satoru [17:58 pm]
won't even try to deny it, huh?
anyway
do you want to workout with me?
maybe

Kento [17:58 pm]
No.

Satoru [17:58 pm]
what
why not?

Kento [17:58 pm]
Because I said no.

Satoru [17:59 pm]
jesus
you're no fun
i didn't even want you to do it anyway.
​​✦ Agumon showing his tongue sticker ✦

Kento [17:59 pm]
great. 

Satoru [17:59 pm]
you’re such a bad firend 
firen 
friend

Kento [17:59 pm]
having troubles there

Satoru [17:59 pm]
shut up

Kento [17:59 pm]
You know what
I'll workout with you if you come with me to those homemade bread classes I mentioned.

Satoru [18:00 pm]
since when did you become a grandmother

Kento [18:00 pm]
Sorry if I like to make my own meals instead of surviving of instant ramen.

Satoru [18:00 pm]
ok that was a low blow
so uncalled for

Kento [18:00 pm]
You’re mad bc is true 

Satoru [18:01 pm]
who are you kidding
you only take these classes because you're in love with that guy at the bakery

Kento [18:01 pm]
That's not true at all

Satoru [18:01 pm]
dude
you were literally looking at him with hearts in your eyes yesterday

Kento [18:01 pm]
I'm turning my cellphone off.

Satoru [18:01 pm]
you're mad bc it's true

Satoru [18:03 pm]
why are you ignoring me now
also
if you’re being mean on purpose just to make me give up on having you workout with me, you're screwed 
because i'm in.

Kento [18:03 pm]
What 

Satoru [18:03 pm]
i’ll be taking these classes with you 
my dear sugar bun

Kento [18:03 pm]
No you’re not

Satoru [18:03 pm]
YES I AMB
AM.
get your gym shorts ready Nanamin
because I'm going to make sure to get us the cutest apron’s ever for our class

He tucked his phone into his sweatshirt pocket before seeing Nanami's response, knowing that when they started teasing each other like this, they could go on for hours. Still, his mood had improved a bit after making fun of his friend.

Maybe he could really convince Nanami to train with him, at least a few times a week. And sure, he could take cooking classes with him—they did sound a bit fun after all… but unfortunately, there was no guarantee this would become a routine. Especially since they had very different schedules and routines.

Maybe he should text Utahime soon; it had been a while since they'd met up to talk. But still, Satoru couldn't see Utahime voluntarily coming to the gym with him. The last time they went running together in the park, she'd nearly strangled Satoru for making him ruin her "perfect hair" in the heat of the run. 

And it's not like he has any other friends as close as her and Nanami, much less friends he trusts and actually wants to spend time with. Ever since they met in high school, Satoru has grown quite attached to the both of them. Even though he knows he sometimes really annoys them, he likes to think they have a sincere and strong friendship. 

But maybe not sincere enough to train together, apparently. 

Yeah, no. Satoru really needed a new friend. A new friend to come workout with. That would definitely do him good.

He grabbed his water bottle to drink a little water, appreciating the moment and letting his eyes wander around the gym, taking in everyone present. 

But then his eyes stopped on a figure.

There was a guy training alone like him. He looked like he was preparing to do a prone bench press, adjusting the weights on the bar, and Satoru took advantage of the moment the stranger was distracted to let his eyes wander around his frame, analyzing his appearance; he looked like he was about the same age as Gojo, maybe 24, 25 years at most. He was wearing red shorts and a basic white oversized shirt, his black hair tied back in a neat bun, with his bangs gracefully framing his face. Satoru could also see some silver points of light adorning his face in the distance; piercings, probably? They were scattered around the stranger's ears, and Satoru even thought he could see some of them around his eyebrows and mouth too. 

And he had tattoos. Like, a lot of tattoos. They stretched out around his legs and arms in a dance of black ink, images of creatures Satoru couldn't identify dotting his muscular body.

Speaking of arms, holy shit. What some big arms the guy had. It was obvious he took his exercise routine very seriously, more seriously than Satoru ever would, probably. He had a focused but serene look on his face, and Satoru figured he probably wouldn't get punched in the face if he tried to approach him to chat a little bit. 

And you know what? The more Satoru thinks of this, the more he is sure that befriending this guy wouldn't be such a bad idea, that's for sure. He could give it a shot at least.

And just like that, Satoru made up his mind. He took a big breath, bringing the attention of the boys he was observing before unintentionally, who looked at him with a confused expression. A shadow of anxiety crossed Satoru’s mind as he realized it had been a long time since he'd interacted with anyone outside of work, especially since he was the one initiating the interaction this time. He was used to people coming after him, not the other way around.

Despite that, he tried to maintain a calm and unbothered pose, gathering his things and marching towards the stranger just as he sat down on the bench and took a sip of the liquid from his bottle, no doubt preparing to begin his exercise sets.

"Hey man, how are you doing?" Satoru chipped, stopping at a respectful distance from the man with the pretty bangs. 

He was a little surprised to realize the stranger was much more handsome up close. Well. Like. He had a sharp jaw and like, really nice facial features. And the guy was really big… Big in a way that was gracious but also a little intimidating—if Satoru were the type who would be intimidated by anyone. Which he isn't, of course. The stranger is just very pretty in a way that was a little unsettling. The "if-you-hit-me-I-would-thank-you" kind of unsettling. But of course Satoru was thinking this in a completely straight way, he was just admitting to himself that the man in front of him was really... beautiful. That's all. 

Satoru swallowed his nerves, a lump forming in his throat as he watched the stranger’s hands flex while twisting the cap back onto the water bottle—his nails were painted black, Satoru noticed—before the bottle was set down near his feet. Only then did the stranger finally look up, his gaze lifting to meet Satoru’s frame.

Caramel brown eyes looked at him, devoid of any emotion that could tell Satoru what he was thinking. His sharp gaze almost made Satoru feel strangely embarrassed, but he decided to conceal his nervousness and continue what he came to do—he was no longer a kid with social problems, for God's sake. He totally could do this.

"Hey. I'm fine, how about you?" The stranger finally answered, making Satoru smile as he realized the tone offered to him wasn't aggressive, just cordial. Maybe a little confused, but that was okay. Things were going very well.

"I'm good too! Thanks for asking… I, uhm— I just wanted to know if you needed someone to spot you during your lifts," Satoru replied, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible; he didn't want to seem like some kind of desperate jerk to his new, maybe-friend.

The stranger took his time to look Satoru up and down slowly, running his tongue between his lips, a thoughtful look on his face. Satoru noticed a silver glint between his tongue—another piercing, apparently—brushing along the snake-bite piercings he had on his lips with a click sound. Satoru wondered absently how many more piercings the man must have around his body. 

"Oh, how kind of you," the black-haired man replied with a small smile, tucking his bangs behind his ear and staring at him once more, his eyes slowly roving over his frame, a heated gaze kissing his pale skin. But Satoru was too distracted looking at the adornments around the stranger’s face to realize that; he could see that all the jewelry followed the same aesthetic, giving off an edgy yet chic vibe. It really suits him, Satoru thought. 

The stranger cleared his throat softly, the noise drawing Satoru's attention back to the conversation. 

"I'd love to. Do you want to take turns exercising, by any chance?" he asked, snapping Satoru's eyes back to his face and making him blush a little for being caught staring.

Satoru blinked, taking some time to assimilate the words of friendship delivered to him. When it finally hit him, he opened a big smile, "Sure, that sounds great!" he replied, beaming genuinely at the man. He was too excited by the interaction to notice that the stranger's smile softened when he took notice of Satoru's excitement.

They fell into a comfortable silence then, starting to get ready to begin the exercise. The black-haired man lay down on the bench and grabbed the weight bar, preparing to lift it while Satoru prostrated himself behind his maybe-new friend as he took his turn on the machine. Satoru watched him lift the weight unaffected, his breathing controlled and deep, and when it was Satoru's turn to perform the exercise, he was left embarrassed with the realisation he couldn't lift the same weight as him, his arms instantly trembling and threatening to give out. 

"Ugh, I can't believe this!" He groaned exasperated, his cheeks flushing red at the situation, not believing how he made a fool of himself.

"Hey, that's alright. Let me take some of these off for you," the stranger said, not a trace of sarcasm in his voice. Satoru sat back down and watched him remove some weights from the bar carefully, balancing the load better for Satoru. 

"I imagine you must have recently returned to the gym, right? It's normal not being able to lift the same weights you were used to. Our muscles need time to be at their peak again," he said, explaining to Satoru in a gentle, calm voice.

"Yeah, I haven't been able to train these past few weeks because of work.” Satoru said, scratching his neck and looking away as he felt embarrassed at being answered so kindly. Maybe it had been longer since he'd had a new social situation than he realized. Satoru cleared his throat, gathering the courage to look at the man again. 

“But how do you know that?" He asked, taking the opportunity to reach for his water bottle and take another sip. He didn't know why, but his mouth kept running dry.

"I've seen you train a few times a week. But it's been a while since I've last seen you. Maybe three or four weeks?" the black-haired man replied with a distant tone, looking like he was talking more to himself than to Satoru. He seemed a little distracted as his eyes darted down and stared at Satoru's throat with an unreadable look on his face. Satoru awkwardly swallowed the water, trying to keep himself from choking on the spot and making an even bigger fool of himself.

"O-oh, have you seen me before?" Satoru said, chuckling a little, coughing slightly and giving him an apologetic smile. His tongue felt a little heavy in his mouth, having to struggle to get the words out.

What was wrong with him? Why was he feeling so nervous? 

"Sorry for not saying hello before then. Hope I wasn't a jerk or anything like that."

"Pff, no, you weren't. And no need to apologize. I just watched you from afar sometimes." 

The casual response made Satoru blush a little, but it made him happy too, strangely. The sound of the small laugh the stranger in front of him let out made him feel lighter somehow, his hands sweating a little. He tightened the hold in sweatshirt without thinking, making the eyes of the man in front of him shift downwards, focusing on his clothes.  

"I really like your hoodie, by the way."

At that, Satoru perked up, positively surprised by the new information, "Hey! Don’t tell me you know Digimon?" he asked, unable to hide the excitement in his voice.

"Yeah, I used to watch it as a kid, but my little sisters still make me watch it when I visit them in my hometown." He hummed, seemingly happy to see the way Satoru's eyes sparkled at the knowledge that they had a common interest beyond the gym, a common ground so they could get the conversation flowing better.

"Your sisters have good taste, then. Digimon is really good.” he offered a little smile, tucking down the new information about the stranger in his mind.

He comes from another city then, that must be why he has such a calm and different air from the people of Tokyo, he thought, blinking at the man in front of him. 

“I still watch it sometimes, when I have some time in my routine and I’m not dying at work. I prefer the first two movies and the first three seasons of the anime to be honest, they have a vintage vibe that's hard to beat, you know? But I think all the works in general are pretty good and consistent." Satoru replied, squeezing and pulling the hem of his hoodie up a little with his hands as he gestured excitedly, missing the way the black-haired man's eyes darted down to stare at his muscular tights.

"Mhm, it's actually pretty good. But I prefer Pokemon, to be honest."

Satoru let out a dramatic gasp, placing his hand on his chest as if he'd been punched.

"Oh my God. You didn't say that! You know what, I don't want to be your friend anymore. Goodbye," he said dramatically, suppressing his laughter as he pretended to get up from the bench. 

The stranger let out a hearty laugh at that, holding Satoru's shoulders with warm hands and keeping him seated, "I'm so sorry for the blasphemy, Your Highness. Please reconsider my friendship?" he said between snickers, looking at Satoru with genuine sympathy.

"Hm. I'll reconsider. Only because you called me Your Highness, of course." He responded by sticking his tongue out at him, a playful expression on his face. "Now help me with this exercise so I don't get in the way of your training, dude."

"Sure, dude," he replied, mocking Satoru's tone a little. He positioned himself behind Satoru, spotting him as he performed a short set of twenty reps, this time managing to lift the weight without any problems. Silence filled the air again, only interrupted by Satoru's heavy breathing from the effort of the exercise, who kept his eyes closed the entire time, feeling that he wouldn't be able to stand still if he looked the man above him in the eyes.

When Satoru stood up, he began returning the weights to their original place while the black-haired man settled onto the bench. Satoru caught himself watching as he took a sip of water, his gaze following the movement of the man’s throat—mirroring, almost unconsciously, what the other had done to him moments earlier. His thoughts drifted as his eyes traced the tattoo winding up the man’s neck: a flower-like creature with a single eye at its center. It was strange and striking, yet it suited the stranger perfectly, as though it had always belonged there. Satoru absently recalled that this was one of the few gyms in Tokyo that allowed heavily tattooed patrons without much fuss, which explained why the man chose to train here.

Satoru cleared his throat for what felt like the tenth time that day, attracting the attention of the seated man. 

"By the way, I just realized I still don't know your name. Mine is—"

"Gojo Satoru," the man interrupted, a smug look on his face. Satoru was surprised for only a second, returning his new friend's wicked smile with the same intensity right after. 

"Wow, you actually know me, huh. What? You're my stalker or something?" he joked, winking at the man below him, teasing him a little. I mean. Joking. They were just joking around between new friends. Yeah. Exactly.

He snickered at Satoru's face, lying down slightly on the bench, supporting himself with only his elbows. 

"You would like that, wouldn't you?” he said with a slightly lower tone of voice, making Satoru suddenly feel a little warmer. The air conditioning must be broken or something. 

The man continued talking, ignorant to the inner turmoil Satoru was feeling for the fifth time since this conversation began, “But no, I just heard you giving your name to the receptionist one time, something about a registration form you had to fill out to win a free fitness chocolate kit—" 

Satoru grimaced at the memory, shaking his head and groaning, "Oh my God. Don't even remind me of that, the worst chocolate I've ever eaten in my life. Straight up tasted like cat litter, a total waste of my time." 

The dramatic outburst only made the man laugh even louder, lying down on the bench completely as his chest shook with the force of his laughter. A few people glanced their way, but Satoru ignored them, too busy pretending to kick the black-haired man's feet, biting his lip to suppress his own laughter. 

"I'm serious man, it was terrible!"

"Oh Jesus," the men wheezed, pretending to wipe away some tears from his eyes as he adjusted himself better in the equipment, “Sorry, I guess I’ve never seen someone complain so passionately about chocolate of all things.”

“Well, I’m a very passionate person, so I don’t know what you mean by that,” Satoru said with a small smirk, taking the cue to position himself behind the stranger to spot him again, “Maybe you've only met boring people in your life so far, have you thought about that?”

“Hmm. Maybe you’re right,” the stranger finished adjusting himself on the bench and grabbed the weight bar, brushing against Satoru's hand lightly in the process. 

“And you really do look like a passionate person.” 

Satoru's brain short-circuited at the answer, but before he could react and ask what he meant by that, their eyes met, and Satoru completely forgot what he was going to say. The man lying down offered him a bright smile, and the action was so contagious that Satoru caught himself returning the gesture before any words were even spoken. 

"My name is Geto Suguru, by the way." The stranger... no, Suguru replied. Satoru hummed, a small smile tugging at his lips, content in being finally able to name the angelic face with pretty piercings and sharp eyes. 

"Suguru then. I like your name."

Suguru seemed surprised with the use of his first name sounding so casual on Satoru’s mouth—his eyes widened a little and a faint blush appeared on his cheeks. Satoru sighed contentedly as he realized that he could also make Suguru feel embarrassed. 

He then took advantage of the moment to grab the weight bar and slam it down a little, forcing Suguru to apply more force to hold it, groaning low in his throat with the sudden effort. 

"You better do a good set then, Su-gu-ru. Because I'm going to increase your load in the next rep since you laughed at my face."

He was met with a small, breathless laugh, Suguru's pierced tongue darting out again to wet his lips again. Satoru followed the movement unintentionally.

"Of course, Sa-to-ru, anything you want."

✦•┈๑⋅⋯     ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

By the end of the day, Satoru had sore muscles, the beginning of a headache, and Suguru Geto's number on his cell phone. 

The entire workout went very well. Suguru—who insisted that Satoru should call him by his first name all the time—really knew a lot about gym and fitness topics, helping him with various tips and interesting comments throughout their workout. 

Satoru normally didn't like know-it-all’s, often making fun of them and their smart comments (Nanami was a living proof of this; the poor man had been through too much), but Satoru quickly discovered that he actually enjoyed listening to Suguru explain things to him—Whenever he got excited talking about something, his expression would soften into the cutest, brightest smile, his hands moving with an easy grace as he explained the best way to perform some random exercise or went on about how a particular piece of equipment had been designed. And, of course, Satoru couldn’t resist slipping in a witty comment here and there, the urge to be a brat simply too strong to ignore. What surprised him was that Suguru didn’t get annoyed at all—if anything, he actually encouraged his antics, bickering right back with a playful glint in his eyes that mirrored Satoru’s own.

And honestly? Talking to Suguru was easy. Like, so easy it was kind of scary. 

Scary because the two of them got into an animated and heated conversation easily, talking about everything and nothing at the same time, as if they'd known each other their whole lives. Satoru couldn't even remember the last time he allowed himself to be his “real version” in a conversation—loud voice and extravagant personality and all—without making the other part feel overstimulated. 

By the end of the training session, they already knew quite a bit about each other's lives. Hell, Suguru might know more about him in just one afternoon than half of his coworkers he's known for five years or so.

Satoru discovered that Suguru came from a small family that lives in rural Tokyo; just him, his parents, and his two teenage twin sisters, Mimiko and Nanako. Suguru told him that when he turned 18, he moved to Tokyo for college and, ever since, he'd tried to stay present in his younger sisters' lives the best he could. Satoru noticed right away the way Suguru's eyes lit up when he talked about his sisters, whom he made a point of video chatting with every week and visiting at least once or twice a month; it was obvious he had a lot of affection for them, and Satoru couldn't help but laugh at the stories Suguru told about the constant trouble the twins got themselves in since they were kids.

The subject of Suguru's parents, on the other hand, seemed to be a raw wound. Suguru didn't seem to want sharing much about them, only stating that they spoke occasionally when Suguru visited his hometown. Every time he talked a little about them, his hands would twitch involuntarily at his sides and his voice would become a little distant, so Satoru decided it was best to let the conversation flow elsewhere, changing the subject and asking more about Suguru's life in Tokyo, not letting pass the grateful look Suguru gave him at that.

It turned out he didn't work as a personal trainer or something related to wellness, as Satoru had previously suspected (which made Suguru chuckle subtly, asking if Satoru had thought he had a nice physique. Satoru tried not to think about the way his heart skipped a beat at the sight of Suguru's mocking smile), but rather as a tattoo artist in a studio located north of Shibuya—Yes, the art he had adorned on his arms was his own work, but no, he didn't tattoo most of it on himself. The one who did that was his friend and also boss Sukuna, who Suguru defined as being "a bit of a lunatic but a good guy". Basically Satoru's favorite type of person. 

By the time they finished their workout—which was unnecessarily longer than usual, with all the breaks they took during sets to chat and make fun of each other—the sky had long since turned pitch-black, with a steady, heavy drizzle pelting the Tokyo streets.

"Did you leave your car in the gym's parking lot or on the street?" Satoru asked as they walked into the direction of the gym's entrance, with Suguru pausing for a moment in front of the lockers used to store gym members' belongings. Suguru calmly entered his password, opening the metallic drawer and pulling out a black backpack and a helmet.

"I came by motorcycle, actually. I parked it right across the street."

"Oh, you have a motorcycle? Cool. You got to show me sometime..." Satoru said cheerfully, stopping abruptly outside the gym, while they were still shielded from the water by the building's facade. Suguru looked at him puzzledly, wondering why he'd suddenly stopped walking.

"Wait. You're riding your motorcycle home?! In a weather like this?" He pointed to the sky, as if that would prove his point.

"I mean... yeah? Relax, Satoru, it's not like I'm made of sugar or something." Suguru laughed, bumping their shoulders together and looking at the weather outside, watching the water puddles slowly forming, "Besides, I don't live that far from here, I'll probably be back in my apartment safe and sound in 20 minutes or so."

Satoru rolled his eyes at Suguru's condescending shrug, "Well, it's up to you. Don't call me if you're dying of flu or something," he said, grabbing his car keys and twirling them on his finger, trying to look cool. He probably looked cool, right? 

He glanced sideways at Suguru, who was already watching him with a small smirk, as if he knew exactly what Satoru was trying to do.

Attempting to not let his nervousness show again, Satoru offered Suguru a small smile as well, "Okay, since you’re okay with getting wet, I'm going home then. See you around, dude," Satoru said, turning around and pulling the hood of his hoodie over his head, starting to walk towards the side door of the gym that would lead him to the covered parking area. Even though he was wearing a heavy hoodie, he could still feel the slightly chilly wind caused by the rain brushing on his skin. 

He prayed this was all that was making him shiver.

"Satoru," he heard his name being called above the sound of the rain, making him turn around with a questioning look on his face.

"Call me when you get home, okay?" Suguru said, not exactly sounding like a question, much less a plea. He said it like a direction. As if he knew Satoru would do exactly that, wouldn't be able to relax until he got home and obeyed the black-haired man's wishes.

He turned around without waiting for Satoru's response, walking slowly as he placed the motorcycle helmet over his head. Satoru felt his body shudder violently from the recent events, repeating in his mind over and over again it's just the rain, it's just the rain, it's just the rain all the way to his car. The entire drive home was like a blur to him.

When he finally arrived at his apartment 20 minutes later, he found himself typing a message to Suguru before even locking his front door.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯     ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

It soon became routine for them to text each other to arrange meetings at the gym. 

They trained together, chatted about everything and nothing, joked around, and generally enjoyed each other's company during their workouts. 

It didn't take long for their intimacy to grow; Satoru constantly found himself talking with Suguru about topics he wouldn't normally discuss with someone he'd just met… Of course, he remained the comic relief in the relationship, cracking a joke here and there and making Suguru let out that beautiful laugh of his... but when Satoru allowed himself being a little more sensitive, he found Suguru looking at him attentively and with respect, a look of tenderness in his eyes. Satoru searched for it, but he never found any judgement in them. Not even once. 

In a few weeks, they weren't just talking to arrange workouts; Satoru found himself texting Suguru throughout the day, talking about his day, sending selfies of what he was doing, and complaining about his work. And Suguru was right behind him, responding to every random topic and meme Satoru sent him every minute, taking pictures of his tattoo sketches to show him and gossiping about the crazy antics Sukuna got up to in the studio. 

They texted constantly, talked constantly, and trained together whenever they could, usually seeing each other at least four or five times a week.

Before Satoru realized it, Suguru had become an indispensable part of his life, a piece Satoru hadn't even known was missing. And it was impossible not to admit they were a great match; their humor was the same and it was incredible how either of them could go from 0 to 100 in a matter of seconds with the other matching their energy perfectly. Satoru felt genuinely happy when he was with Suguru, craving his presence when he wasn't around.

But things started to get more intense four weeks after they first spoke.

It was a normal Thursday, the late afternoon sun streaming through the gym's large windows, bathing the ambience in an orange glow. Satoru was just finishing telling Suguru his take on the plot of some horror alien movie he watched over the weekend when Suguru's cell phone rang. 

He apologized to Satoru, crouching down to pick up his device and holding it to his ear to answer, stepping away to better communicate with God-knows who had called.

Except Satoru knew who called—he had the chance to glance at the phone screen before Suguru picked it up, the face of a pretty girl with short, dark hair staring back at him with a weary look. Suguru's call lasted about six minutes (just an approximation, of course. It's not like Satoru was counting the minutes like a sociopath while his stomach churned on itself), and when Suguru returned, he had a happy and relaxed expression on his face.

It made Satoru feel like shit, for some reason.

"Hey, I’m back! Sorry for interrupting you Satoru, you were talking about—"

"Why did you take so long? Who was that? Your girlfriend?" Satoru cut him off with a barrage of questions, not even letting Suguru continue talking. He knew there was an anxious look on his face, but he didn't care about that right now; he needed to know Suguru’s answer.

"Uhm. No? She's just my best friend. She was calling to see if I'd finished sketching the tattoo she wanted to get with me next month." Suguru replied after a moment, looking at Satoru with a puzzled expression but with a comforting tone nonetheless, as if he wanted to calm Satoru down even though he didn’t know why he was acting like this.

Satoru fought back a sigh of relief at that, feeling the tension leave his body. 

So she wasn't a girlfriend. Just a friend. Or best friend. Whatever. Suguru was single, as far as Satoru knew... so everything was perfectly fine. No reason to get upset.

But it didn't take long for Satoru's anxiety to come flooding back. He couldn't understand his own thoughts, much less his feelings; why had he felt so miserable thinking that Suguru might have a girlfriend? And why had he felt so happy knowing that there was no one in the picture? Why did he care?

"Oh," Satoru replied dumbly, looking away and trying to hide his nervousness by taking a sip of water from his bottle, his hands were shaking a little, “So she’s just a friend?”

“I mean, yeah. That's what I just said… why are you acting like this?”

“Acting like what?”

“I don’t know. Like you’re on edge or something.” Suguru said with a worried look, studying Satoru's expression as if he wanted to read his thoughts.

Good luck with that buddy, even I can't understand myself.

Suguru suddenly moved closer to him, forcing Satoru to lean against the wall behind him to keep the distance. And maybe he was being a bit dramatic, since they were still at a perfectly respectful distance, but Satoru was feeling a little out of breath for some reason, so he tried to maintain his personal space. Before Satoru could think of anything to change the subject, Suguru talked again, asking the question he'd been dreading to forget.

“Why did you asked if she was my girlfriend?” 

Shit. 

“Dunno” Satoru answered, feigning indifference and averting his gaze to the water bottle at his feet, "I guess I just thought she was pretty,” it wasn't exactly a lie, but it certainly wasn't the reason why he wanted to drop a weight on his head.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Why was Suguru looking at him this way? And why couldn't he just shut up and think about other things to say?

“So you just thought she was pretty.”

“Exactly, pretty.” Satoru nodded, looking Suguru in the eye again, “I would date her," he added without thinking, giving a fake chuckle, trying desperately to joke around to ease the tension in the air a little.

"You would?" Suguru asked, arching an eyebrow at him, his gaze unreadable.

No.

"Yeah. You should give me her number." He lied, smiling a really fake smile at Suguru. And it was fine, it’s not like his friend would know about his inner turmoil. 

Suguru snickered at that, reaching out and flicking Satoru's forehead out of nowhere. 

"Ow! What was that for?" Satoru whined, bringing his hand to the injured area as if the pain he felt was much greater than it should've been.

"Shoko is a lesbian. And she would eat your head off for breakfast if she had the chance," Suguru explained, holding back a laugh as he looked at the expression on Satoru's face, his hands still clutching at his forehead uselessly. 

"Plus, even if she wasn't a lesbian, I wouldn't date her."

"Huh? Why not?" Satoru found himself asking before he could stop himself.

“I'm only interested in men," Suguru replied, tucking his bangs behind his ear, looking as if everything was under his control. But Satoru could see the small signs in Suguru's pose—his hands twitching a little at his sides, his eyes not really looking at Satoru's face. 

He was anxious about coming out to Satoru.

"Oh, you never told me that," Satoru said dumbly. Trying to gather his thoughts, to get his brain and mouth to work together and offer the comfort Suguru deserved, to say anything, really. But all he could think about was that Suguru didn’t like women. He liked men. And he was single. Not that this last part should have any importance to Satoru. But in a way, it did. God. What was wrong with him?

"Is that a problem for you?" Suguru asked immediately, not letting Satoru gather his thoughts. He still wasn't looking him in the eye.

This time it was Satoru who flicked Suguru's forehead, applying extra force to lure him out of God knows what Suguru was thinking. It seemed to work, because he instantly glared at him with an irritated look in his eyes, bringing his hand to the affected area on his forehead. 

"Ow? Satoru, what the actual fuck-"

"No dickhead, it's not a problem." Satoru replied a little too rudely, but his gaze conveyed all the calm and support he felt, making Suguru relax a little, his fists finally loosening, his pose becoming less tense, "I know we've known each other for a short time, but I'm not an asshole, you know? I’m not homophobic. Plus, two of my closest friends are gay too."

Suguru snickered at that, rolling his eyes. "Oh really? 'I'm not homophobic, I even have friends who are gay.' That's exactly the kind of thing a homophobic person would say, you know that right?”

Satoru let out an indignant noise at that, grabbing Suguru's shoulders and shaking him frantically, as if this were some kind of punishment for making fun of him.

"Screw you! I'm being serious, you asshole! You know Utahime is a lesbian! And one of my closest friends from work is gay too!"

"Wait, Nanami is gay?  Why didn't you tell me?" Suguru asked, grabbing Satoru’s arms to make him stop shaking him around, a gossipy glint taking over his eyes. Of course he would connect the dots in his head and figure out that Satoru was talking about Nanami, after all, he was his only real friend at work.

Satoru held back a laugh at Suguru's face—a mix of anger and eagerness in wanting to know more. He bit his lip to suppress the giggles that were trying to leave his mouth, knowing that the chances of Suguru flicking his forehead again if Satoru laughed at his face were really high. 

"And why would I tell you? I didn't know that was suuuuch an important piece of information to know."

His bratty tone made Suguru grimace, squeezing Satoru's forearm a little tightly as a reprimand, a small indignant sound coming from his mouth as he did such. 

"Ouch! You know what? I was going to tell you about his crush on the guy who works at the bakery across the street from work, but since you're being so mean I refuse!" Satoru exclaimed loudly enough to attract curious glances, but neither of them cared, too busy in their own bubble they had created around them.

"Fuck you! You’re going to tell me right now!”

“No the fuck I won’t!”

“I told you everything about Sukuna's crazy ex who threatened to shatter the studio's facade, you literally owe me this!"

“Well, then you should've known better before calling me a homophobe!"

“I didn't call you homophobe Satoru, I just stated how you suspiciously said something a homophobic person would say.”

“That's the same fucking thing?”

“No it's fucking not?”

They fell into their usual bickering at that, like the initial anxiety they were feeling didn't even exist in the first place. It was through this chaotic conversation that Satoru discovered Suguru's sexuality—and in the end, it didn't matter that much for him. It really didn't. Suguru was still Suguru, the wonderful and interesting friend Satoru had found for himself. And deep down, Satoru felt really happy that Suguru trusted him to tell such an important part of himself; this meant that their friendship really meant as much to Suguru as it did to Satoru. And he hadn't lied when he said he wasn't a prejudiced jerk; he might be a pretentious egomaniac who had a habit of getting under other people's skin, but homophobic? He draws a line at being a hateful bitch.

But in a way, everything did change after Satoru found out. 

I mean, their friendship didn't change at all; they continued meeting almost every day to workout. Satoru continued texting Suguru nonstop, and Suguru, in return, continued to engage in his antics, giving the white-haired man all the attention he needed. 

But now Satoru couldn't help but notice the way Suguru looked at some of the guys at the gym, how his gaze would sometimes linger on their legs, their torsos… and this was making Satoru feel a little uncomfortable—not because he was disgusted by Suguru looking at other men, but because he wanted Suguru's gaze to remain solely on him. And this thought alone was enough to make him feel so confused.

To make matters worse, Satoru also began to notice how almost every man in that goddamn stupid gym seemed to be eyeing Suguru like he was a Greek God (he was, but that was irrelevant); almost all of them seemed to want to ask Suguru out on a date right then and there.

And that made Satoru feel downright murderous.

Satoru's sanity was tested a week after their conversation, when a guy interrupted them mid-practice to ask Suguru what kind of shampoo brand he uses to keep his hair “so silky and shiny”. His name was Hiroshi or something (Satoru didn't care enough to pay attention) and he had dark brown hair and a short, delicate build. Satoru didn't know if that was Suguru's type in man, but in his humble opinion this guy looked more like a rat than a human being. 

Looking a little closer, Satoru remembered spotting Hiroshi spying on Suguru a few times before that, and his stomach dropped at the realization that he was probably interested in Suguru. Satoru’s mood soured immediately at that.

Hiroshi’s black eyes kept watching Suguru through the whole conversation, completely enamored by his appearance, and it was so obvious he had ulterior motives to talk with Suguru that it was almost pathetic. At least Satoru had to admit he was slightly clever in starting the conversation by talking about Suguru's hair; it was obvious he cared deeply about that part of him. 

Satoru sat down watching the entire interaction with a tight jaw and a poisonous anger deep in his chest, hoping Suguru would simply send the guy back to the hole he'd emerged from and devote his attention solely to him again. But obviously, that didn't happen—Suguru was too polite to be so direct and rude, so when the little rat placed his stupid small hands on Suguru's arm and squeezed while thanking him for the tips, Satoru saw red.

Hiroshi said that he would talk to Suguru again another day about the results of the shampoo he recommended, and all Satoru could think was that he hoped this would never happen. Everything got even worse when Suguru replied that he would be waiting to hear more about his opinion, maintaining a gentle smile on his face the whole time.

After that, Satoru remained quiet for the rest of their training session, only saying something here and there, feeling as if he needed to punch something as hard as possible. He felt bad for acting so distant—especially because of the worried looks Suguru threw his way at his silence. But the way he hovered over Satoru, pampering him for the rest of the training session was kind of worth it in the end. 

Especially because he could see Hiroshi watching them from afar, a jealous look in his eyes.

Satoru really needed to punch something.

But what was really driving him crazy was the fact that he simply couldn't understand why he felt this way. He'd never been interested in men in any way, never understood the appeal of being in a relationship with one, so he just assumed he was straight, right? 

Even though he came from one of the most powerful and wealthy families in Japan, his father had never been homophobic towards anyone. His mother died when he was very young, so it's not like he could ask her opinion on the matter (unless he used a ouija board or something), but his father always taught him to treat everyone equally, to be the best in class without using disrespectful behaviors to ridicule others based on their appearance or how they decided to live their own lives. 

Only pathetic and weak people do that, Satoru, was what he told him when he was little. And Satoru always took this teaching to heart—because in the end it made sense to him, he agreed with all of it… So it was obvious that he didn't hold any kind of prejudice against queer people, but he still couldn't imagine himself as someone who would have a relationship with someone of the same gender.

And okay, yeah, he wasn't very interested in women either. He and Utahime tried to kiss each other once and both nearly vomited before their mouths even touched. But that didn't mean he didn't like women, this just means he wasn't attracted to his best friend. Not to mention she came out as a lesbian some time later, so it was definitely because of that.

So what if he’s still a virgin—even though he’s 24 years old—because he never got interested in anyone? This just proves he hasn't found the right woman yet, right? Or at least that he’s kind of a picky guy. It doesn't necessarily mean he's gay.

Yeah. He's just having a bit of a confused moment. The overwork he's put himself through in the recent weeks was making him get a brain fog that was clouding his thoughts.

That's it. Satoru is just a little confused. And worried about his friend, obviously, because he knows a man as beautiful and incredible as Suguru deserves way better than these scumbags who kept looking at him with hearts in their eyes. Of course. That was all it was. Worry. Because Satoru is such a great friend. All these strange feelings definitely are going to pass at any moment. He and Suguru are good friends. Just that. Satoru likes women, he’s sure of it.

So what if his heart beats a thousand times faster when he's with Suguru, in a way he's never felt with any woman? Never felt with anyone? 

So what if he is feeling a little jealous of the way other people looked at Suguru’s way? It’s totally common for friends to be protective of each other. And he's sure there's a plausible explanation for the way he shivers all over when Suguru accidentally touches him.   

So what if he sometimes finds himself thinking about Suguru before bed, with his heart heavy in his chest and a strange, warm feeling in his stomach? Satoru is sure there's a completely heterosexual explanation for this. The end of summer, perhaps. Or exhaustion from work. Yeah. That must be it.

It doesn't matter that Suguru makes him feel more alive and human than ever. It doesn't matter that he sometimes finds himself thinking late at night about how must be like to be held by Suguru.

That doesn't mean he's gay.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯     ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Or maybe it fucking does. 

Maybe Satoru is fucking gay. Or even more specifically? Maybe he’s completely fucking gay for Geto Suguru. 

Because now he can't eat, can't sleep, can't live his life the way he used to. He can't stay away from Suguru, but every moment he's near him, every moment he feels the heat of Suguru's body radiate into his, it’s like he's going to suffocate with so many sensations he never felt before, that he doesn't know what to do with. His body feels too big and his chest too small. And if Satoru feels overstimulated when he's around, everything gets worse when he's away from Suguru. He feels like his heart is going to come out of his throat, like there's a part of him missing again, like he can't function without him. 

And maybe he's just being dramatic? Yeah. Maybe. 

Or maybe he really is dying. 

It feels like dying, at least.

And that's not even the worst part of it, but the fact that now Satoru feels like he's finally seeing Suguru for the first time. Like. Truly seeing Suguru's warm and kind soul, not just his body, not just the surface. It’s like he’s truly realizing how sweet Suguru is to him, how he cares for Satoru, from helping him do his exercises properly, listening to his problems, to even engaging in everything he's saying. It’s like he sees for the first time the incredible artist that Suguru is, or the super interesting person who has a breathtaking intelligence, always knowing what to say to make Satoru fall more and more under his charm.

Shit, Suguru even prepared a bento filled with teriyaki chicken and fluffy rice after he found out it was one of Satoru's favorite home-cooked dishes, all to please him a little more, to make him feel happy and seen. Fuck. He fucking cooked a delicious, flavorful meal that exploded in Satoru's mouth, filling not only his stomach but his heart as well. All of this only made Satoru feel like a lovesick puppy, eagerly waiting for the moments he could be close to his owner, reminiscing in the warmth that lingered on his skin in the moments they were apart. 

Not only that, but Satoru also started to notice more of his sweet smile, his gentle eyes… his beautiful black hair that Satoru wanted so much to see loose and wild, creating a curtain around Suguru's face when he looked down at him. Laying on top of him. Finally touching him. 

And when they were at the gym or facetiming together, Satoru couldn't help but stare at his big, beautiful body that is the perfect balance of muscles and curves, always flowing so gracefully and confidently, a masculine aura so strong gravitating around him that makes Satoru want to squirm all over. 

And his piercings. God. His stupid handsome fucking piercings that frame Suguru's face perfectly and make Satoru want to lick him all over.

​​It was already obvious to Satoru: he was in love with Suguru. Completely head over heels by everything he said and did, everything he was. Satoru felt everything so intensely within himself that he didn't know what to do with himself, slowly becoming a flustering mess around his friend.

And all of this stupid feelings came crashing down on another random fucking Thursday.

As usual, they were spending the afternoon training together, preparing to begin the leg and core training Suguru had organized for them. The weather had been a bit cloudy all day, but at least this time without any rain. Right now, a few rays of sunlight could be seen peeking through the clouds, creating a brownish atmosphere that blended with the white clouds, thanks to the golden leaves of the trees that adorned the Tokyo streets.

Currently, Suguru was telling Satoru about the new tattoo flash sheets he was creating for the studio as they adjusted their training gloves, something about a new artistic idea he had about blending the more classic irezumi style with an old-school aesthetic. Satoru didn't know much about art himself, but he always enjoyed it when Suguru explained his work, so the subject was actually quite interesting. However, the words were completely escaping Satoru's mind, the melodic, deep sound of Suguru's voice becoming just a background melody—Satoru was much more focused on the way Suguru's eyes sparkled with excitement, his hands gesturing happily as he explained every detail of his new project. 

Satoru felt his skin grow hot as he inadvertently slid his eyes toward Suguru's hands, watching his fingers flex and relax as Suguru adjusted the grip of the glove on his hand. Satoru could still hear Suguru's excited voice in the background, completely unaware of Satoru's less-than-holy thoughts as his gaze crept up his forearm, following the lines of an octopus-like creature that Suguru had once told him was the first tattoo he'd ever given himself. He watched the muscles in his arm twitched with his movements, almost drooling without realizing it. 

Satoru knew the stares he sent his friend's way had become a common occurrence since he realized he was in love with Suguru—he'd lost count of how many times he'd had to run to the gym bathroom to hide his hard on due to his friend's beauty—but he simply couldn't help but betray his inner strength and stare at Suguru’s arms during their workouts. Or his hands. His strong legs. The way his back muscles contracted when he did core exercises. The way his breathing quickened after a long workout, his voice deepening and breathless from exhaustion.

And shit. Did he ever comment on his fucking arms? Big, strong arms. The ink of his tattoos only further enhanced his stature, highlighting the beauty of his lightly tanned skin and the bulge of his strong muscles. Satoru is sure Suguru could lift a car if he wanted to, he still hasn't forgotten the time he was pestering Suguru about not letting him sit on the rowing machine and Suguru simply picked him up princess style and dropped him standing next to him as if Satoru weighed nothing, and he certainly hasn't forgotten how the whole ordeal turned him into a blushing mess, the thought of the strong hands enveloping him making him feel dizzy. 

As thin as Satoru is, he's not light by any means—although he didn't have a definitive exercise routine until he started training with Suguru, he has always been slightly muscular. But even so, he bets that if Suguru wanted to, he could throw him around as he pleased, positioning his body however he wanted. Yeah. If Suguru truly wanted, he could pin Gojo to the ground, get on top of him, and...

"Satoru? Are you feeling okay? Your face is redder than usual," Suguru asked, a worried expression coloring his face. 

Satoru realized too late that Suguru was no longer speaking to him, now gripping Satoru’s right shoulder, preventing him from falling to the ground in shock at being caught staring. His skin kind of burned where Suguru was holding him. It wasn't a bad sensation.

It wasn't the first time Suguru had caught Satoru lost in thought while he was observing some part of Suguru's body. Last week, it had been his pecs, and three days before that, Satoru was having an intense staring contest with the piercing jewel that adorned Suguru's tongue. Every time he saw a glimpse of the metal on his mouth, Satoru felt like he was one step closer to downright begging Suguru to let him suck his tongue just to know what the piercing would feel like against his mouth. 

“Satoru? Hey— talk to me man.”

"Oh, shit— Sorry Suguru, I guess I'm a little spacey today because I didn't get a good night of sleep last night." 

It wasn't entirely a lie; he'd actually spent the whole night staring at the ceiling, trying not to masturbate to the photo his friend had sent him before bed; in the picture, Suguru was lying on his bed, his phone above him at an upward angle that showed only a small portion of his relaxed face, the focus mostly on the old Pokémon t-shirt he was wearing that he told Satoru later that day he'd found lost in his closet. 

Of course, this wasn't the first photo Suguru had sent him; they had a mutual habit of sending each other selfies throughout the day to show off what they were doing to the other. There was even one time when Satoru sent a photo of him and his father in the meeting room, his old man pointing an angry finger at the camera, yelling at Satoru to pay attention to the conversation. The photo quickly became a running joke between the two.

But this was the first time Satoru felt genuinely affected by a photo Suguru sent him. Because all Satoru could see was the small patch of skin of Suguru’s abdomen that was visible thanks to the t-shirt being slightly lifted. The whole photo seemed genuine and spontaneous, but there was a deliberate vibe in the way you could see just a little bit of the hard lines of Suguru's defined abs, the little happy trail trailing into Suguru's sleep pants, his mouth displaying a teasing little smirk that had Satoru fidgeting all night. 

Suguru must have known what he was doing. How this was affecting Satoru.

"You've been saying this has been happening a lot lately. Are you sure you’re okay?" Suguru asked, bringing Satoru back to the presen. Unfortunately remembering the photo from last night only made Satoru blush even more. 

And there was something different about the way Suguru’s hand kept touching Satoru, his presence strong and grounding, his warmth spreading between the fabric of Satoru's shirt and his skin. 

Satoru cleared his throat a little, trying to gather his thoughts. He took a few small steps back, which made Suguru finally let go of his arm; Satoru automatically felt the loss of the warmth of Suguru's touch, but he knew if he didn't move away it wouldn't be long before he started blushing even more. That is if he wasn't beet red already. 

He grabbed his water bottle, taking a small sip of it as his mind recovered. "Of course I’m okay, I just need a good night of sleep and I'll be as good as new, you'll see." Satoru said, giving Suguru a confident smile, waving his arms excitedly and pretending to stretch a little. 

The black-haired man just stared at him intently for a few seconds without saying anything, a thoughtful look on his face, as if he were trying to read the situation beyond what Satoru was letting on. Satoru just prayed it wouldn't be so obvious how pathetically down bad he was about him.

But then Suguru just smiled warmly at him, going back to adjusting his gloves, and Satoru's gaze automatically dropped to Suguru's hands again. God. He was so pathetic for him it was starting to became a little embarrassing. Satoru cleared his throat, struggling to get his mind to cooperate and remember the previous topic of their conversation.

“Soooo… you were telling me about…”

“...My tattoo flashes.”

“Right! We were talking about the tattoos you're creating. C'monnn, tell me more!”

“Nah. You weren’t even listening,” Suguru said while shoving Satoru’s shoulder lightly, pretending to be hurt, but the curve in his mouth made it clear he was holding back to not laugh at Satoru's face.

“Suguuuuu', don't be like that! You know I like it when you talk to me about your job!”

“Mhm, you like the gossip about the clients.”

“Well. Yeah, that too. But I really like hearing you talk about your tattoos, dude!”

“You sure do, dude.”

“Oh my God,” Satoru groaned dramatically, shifting his weight slightly onto Suguru as they walked between the equipments. Suguru seemed amused by his antics, but didn't move away from Satoru’s body. They continued walking side by side, their arms and shoulders brushing from time to time.

"If you really like my tattoo talks, what was I talking about back then?"

"Easy! You were talking about your new flashes with the Izumumi—"

"Irezumi."

"Yeah, that. The Irezumi style tattoos you're doing. And then you went on a tangent about how you're having trouble with the design of a sphinx you're trying to create. And about that, I advise you to try looking for some references in history books, maybe? Like those that talk specifically about the ancient Egypt and its archetypes. I mean. I don't know shit about these artistic subjects, but this might help you, perhaps? I dunno."

"I— That's... actually not a bad idea," Suguru said with a surprised look on his face, speaking softly to Satoru, "Thank you, 'Toru. I really appreciate it."

Satoru cleared his throat, feeling embarrassed. They stopped in front of the water fountain and he took the opportunity to refill his water bottle, feigning indifference.

"I mean. Yeah. Sure. No problem, dude. And make sure to show me them when you're done."

"Don't worry dude, I will."

"Okay, you really need to stop making fun of how I speak," Satoru said, dipping his fingertips in the water fountain and throwing some water in Suguru's direction, making him laugh out loud as he tried to dodge the attack. 

"I'm being so serious right now! If you keep doing that, I'll never let you tattoo me."

"Yeah, right. Like you'll ever get a tattoo."

"I might do it someday, you know?” Satoru finished filling his bottle, taking the opportunity to take a sip while maintaining eye contact with Suguru. He felt a deep satisfaction in his stomach at the way Suguru's eyes darted down to his neck, seemingly without him noticing, following the movement of his throat.

Satoru finished drinking, licking his lips while giving Suguru a wicked smile. 

“And when that day comes, I'll make sure to schedule it with Sukuna."

Suguru lifted his gaze from Satoru's mouth, giving him an intense look. The black-haired man slowly approached him with an unreadable expression, taking the bottle from Satoru's hands and placing it to his own lips, taking a long sip. When he was finally done, Satoru was already feeling slightly breathless.

"You wouldn't do something like that."

Satoru giggled, tilting his head to the side while feigning innocence, "And why wouldn’t I? Last time I checked, I can do whatever I want."

"Hm. That’s true," Suguru replied, smiling sweetly at Satoru, but his gaze only grew even more intense, making Satoru shiver and his cock give a pathetic little twitch in his underwear. He thanked God that he decided to wear a long shirt to work out today.

Suguru reached his hand out, returning the water bottle to Satoru's hands and letting their fingers brush against each other for longer than necessary.

"But I know you'd only let me touch your skin to tattoo you. Right, Satoru?"

Satoru's eyes widened, feeling his cheeks flush hard at the tone of pure want in Suguru's voice. He said it so simply, as if it were a mere fact. As if he knew this was exactly how things would unfold if Satoru ever got a tattoo. As if Suguru knew Satoru's skin belonged to him and only him to mark as he pleased.

And he was so fucking right.

Before Satoru could respond (which would probably be something along the lines of "fuck me” or “mark me up"), Suguru turned his back on him, breaking the tension of the moment and heading towards the gym equipment area again.

"We should start training soon, what do you think? It's getting a little late."

Satoru took advantage of Suguru not facing him and let his body tremble with the shiver he'd been holding back since this conversation began, feeling extremely pathetic and on edge. He cleared his throat, trying his best not to let his voice shake at his next words.

“Yeah. Yeah, sure. What have you prepared for us today?"

"We're going to start with some smith-machine squats today. We usually end up focusing on the abs and arms when we workout together, so I wanted to try some leg training with you today. Are you familiar with doing squats?"

"Yeah, yeah... Wait— what?"

"I asked if you know anything about squats, Satoru," Suguru said as he led them to the smith machine, ignoring the fact that Satoru had gotten distracted again. He began to adjust the bar to Satoru's shoulder height and checking if the vertical rails were all locked and in place. 

"Squats? You know? When you bend your knees and hips and lower yourself as if you were going to sit on an imaginary chair?"

The patronizing tone made Satoru roll his eyes, crossing his arms in front of his chest and giving a small pout in his friend's direction. 

"I'm not dumb dude, I know what squats are. And yes, I've done them a few times, just never on this machine," Satoru replied, eyeing the device with a suspicious face and watching Suguru add the weights to both sides of the bar, offering Satoru a small smirk. 

"Great, then you won't have any problems with this exercise. It's great for beginners and, because we're doing it on the smith machine, you'll notice more stability and safety, allowing you to isolate specific muscles and better focus on developing your glut—"

"Jesus, you sounded like a gym teacher just now." Satoru interrupted him, smirking at Suguru's explanation as he nudged his shoulder with a finger. He really couldn't help but to feel an immense desire to be a nuisance whenever Suguru got all nerdy with their workouts. He let out a loud laugh when Suguru swatted his finger away with a groan, coming back to his task in adjusting the machine. 

"That's enough, you little minx. Now get your ass back here, you're going to start the exercise first."

"Wait— me? But I just told you I've never used this machine."

"Don't worry, I'll help you," Suguru said, giving Satoru a once-over, the smirk on his face only deepening. "Unless Mr. Smarthy-mouth is afraid of a little beginner's exercise? Is that it?" Suguru asked, his gaze rising again and locking with Satoru's eyes with an intensity Satoru couldn't understand.

Although Satoru felt his cheeks turning red again, he couldn't help but match Suguru's petty energy with his own, letting out a small chuckle as he positioned himself on the machine, pushing Suguru's body lightly with his shoulders before stepping under the bar and letting it rest behind his neck.

"C'mon then teacher, tell me what I need to do."

Satoru stared at Suguru behind him in the mirror and realized that the momentary confidence he felt had left Suguru a little speechless. If Satoru hadn't been so attentive, he wouldn't even notice the slight blush tinting his cheeks. He smirked at Suguru, taking advantage of the change of places for a change.

"Hellooooo? Earth to Suguru? Are you going to tell me what to do or what?"

Suguru coughed awkwardly, looking away and walking to the side of the machine, Satoru could see his hands tense at his sides, "Anyways… I'll release the safety catch so you can start the exercise. You just need to perform the movements of a normal squat; the only difference is that you'll notice the bar will help you keep your spine straighter during the exercise. If you feel any lower back pain or think the weight is too light or too heavy, just let me know." Satoru hummed at the explanation, placing his hands around the bar with a firm grip, keeping his elbows below the bar and shoulder-width apart.

And with that, Satoru began practicing the exercise. He momentarily regretted choosing to wear shorts for today's workout, feeling like his legs were very exposed because of the movement of the exercise. But soon his mind quieted down due to the focus and the strength his muscles were exerting. 

He wasn't struggling with the weight as much as he thought he would, but he could still feel the muscles in his thighs and butt contracting with the effort, probably because it had been a while since he'd focused on those specific body parts. Still, he could feel himself focusing pretty good on the exercise, even closing his eyes to better concentrate on it.

But then Satoru nearly dropped the bar down at his feet, breaking his neck in the process.

One of Suguru's hands rested on Satoru's lower back, squeezing the muscle and making him gasp a little, blinking his eyes open in surprise.

"Try to keep your back straighter. Push your glutes back further," Satoru heard Suguru's voice instruct from behind him, making Satoru let out a small and shaky okay in response, keeping his gaze fixed on his feet and trying to do what his friend asked of him.

When he felt Suguru remove his hand away from his back, he almost breathed a sigh of relief. But then Suguru did something even worse for his mental health; Satoru felt large hands wrap around his waist on both sides, squeezing lightly and guiding his movements. Suguru moved even closer to Satoru, who could feel the heat of Suguru’s body radiating from behind him.

"Try going down a little slower, okay? Feel your muscles contracting with the movement."

And Satoru made the terrible mistake of looking up and making eye contact with Suguru in the mirror, but the tattooed man wasn't looking at him; his gaze was fixed on Satoru's ass, an intense look etched on his face. Satoru had time to see the exact moment Suguru licked his lips at the scene, biting them and letting out a small, contemplative hmm that Satoru wouldn't be able to hear if Suguru hadn't been right behind him.

"Yeah, just like that. Give me just one more," Suguru said slowly, still staring at Satoru's perky ass. The double meaning of the sentence, along with the hungry way Suguru was looking at him, made the white-haired man drop his gaze to his feet again, unable to help but let out a small whimper, hoping that if Suguru had heard the sound coming out his mouth he would just assume it was because of the exercise intensity and not because Satoru was almost cumming on his pants.

When Satoru finally finished his first set of exercises, he was more breathless and flushed than usual. He shakily stepped off the machine, still having trouble looking Suguru in the eye.

"You did so good, ‘Toru. Does it hurt anywhere?" Suguru asked affectionately as Satoru stopped and turned around in front of him.

"Y-yeah. I mean— no. 'm fine. Doesn't hurt. Feels' good," Satoru said weakly, fiddling with the hem of his shirt in embarrassment. He wasn't exactly lying; the satisfaction of Suguru's praise curled sensually around Satoru's mind, leaving him lightheaded.

Suguru then raised his hand, brushing his knuckles affectionately against Satoru's flushed cheeks, making his breath hitch on his throat. 

Suguru had never touched him like that. No one ever had. This was too much for Satoru's poor heart.

"Mhm, but are you sure you’re feeling okay? Your face is really red right now," Suguru asked with a heavy voice. When Satoru didn't answer him, he brought his fingers to Satoru's chin and guided his face carefully, making him slowly look up at him again, forcing eye contact. 

"Come on, ‘Toru, talk to me. What do you need, hmm?"

I need you to fucking kiss me. Make me yours.

"I- fuck…” Satoru literally swallowed the words that flooded his mind, almost saying them out loud, “'m fine, Sugu’, really." Satoru replied weakly, swallowing the saliva that had accumulated in his mouth, watching Suguru follow the movement of his throat again. His fingers were still on his chin, making his skin burn under his touch. Satoru reclined his face a little, causing Suguru to release the hold on his face, watching him bend down and pick up his water bottle again, using it a second time as an excuse to escape the overwhelmed situation. 

"I just need some water to cool off, I guess," Satoru said, bringing the bottle to his lips only to realize it was already empty.

"Shit." frustrated eyes stared at the bottle in his hands, as if he was giving the object a death wish, which caused Suguru to let out a light laugh, stretching out his hand to this time grab the bottle from Satoru hold, their fingers brushing against each other at the movement.

"I'll get you more water, okay? Stay right here." And with that, Suguru turned his back on him, heading towards the drinking fountain and disappearing from Satoru's sight. He took advantage of the moment of loliness to let out a shaky sigh, running his hands through his sweaty hair and trying to process what had just happened.

And really, what just happened? Was Suguru interested in him too? Or maybe this was all just his imagination? 

Satoru dropped his arms on the smith machine bar, resting his cheeks on his forearms and staring at himself in the mirror, noticing how red his face was from all the feelings he was having to hide. Fuck. Satoru doubted he could stay alive until the end of the day. He would probably die before the workout was even over. Or he would fall to his knees in front of Suguru and beg him to touch him again. Or maybe both. 

Satoru closed his eyes and took another deep breath, feeling pathetic and in love. He could feel a headache coming.

And just when he swore his day couldn't get any more complicated, God proved to him that He wouldn't be having any mercy on his soul today. He felt a nudge on his shoulder, delivered with more force than necessary, followed by the most irritating, nauseating voice on the face of the Earth.

"Satoru-kun? Fancy seeing you out here."

The disgust Satoru felt was immediate; he could practically feel his stomach contracting with anger, his headache intensifying even more. He opened his eyes and turned slowly, facing the unwanted surprise.

At that moment, Satoru wondered what he had done to God. What kind of deity had he angered in his past lives? What the hell could he have done so wrong to run into Naoya Zenin, of all people, right at the gym he frequents? 

The fuck was he doing here?

"The fuck are you doing here." he replied automatically, the words mirroring his thoughts and sounding more like an accusation than a question. Satoru knew he wasn't hiding the disdain in his face, and he didn't really care. He just needed to be the most insufferable person ever for Naoya to get stressed and leave him alone.

And speaking of the devil, Naoya gave him the ugliest smile Satoru had ever seen in his entire existence, resting his forearm on the equipment next to him in what seemed like a failed attempt at being charming. Ugh. 

"Hi to you too, Satoru. I just started at this gym today. I wanted to start being a little more fit, y'know? Take better care of my body," he said, looking him up and down at him in a way that made Satoru cringe. 

"Who would have thought I'd find you here, huh? If I'd known you trained here, I would have started sooner."

Satoru fought the urge to slam his fist right into that ugly, smug smile. This was a good gym; he remained himself. He liked it here. He couldn't afford to be expelled for public violence.

"Yeah, right. Knowing you, you must have stalked me all the way here." Satoru scoffed, thinking of ways to end the conversation so he could get the fucking out of there.

"I might have seen your gym membership card on your desk last Monday. Or maybe it was pure fate that we met here. How does that sound, Satoru?" 

At that, Satoru didn't even try to stop himself from rolling his eyes. This guy is simply unbelievable. And was he flirting with Satoru by any chance? Fucking disgusting.

"Sounds like you are being delusional. And I already told you not to call me Satoru," came the cold, icy reply. He started looking around, trying to see if he could find Suguru anywhere. He just wanted to get out of there.

Just when he thought he saw Suguru turning a corner (he couldn't tell for sure; perhaps the lack of his prescription glasses was actually worsening his vision), he felt Naoya's cold, insistent hands graze him and closing around his wrist, which made Satoru snap his attention back to him at full force with an incredulous look on his face. The fucking audacity this guys has.

"Maybe we could workout together? You know, to make the most of the moment since we're both here. What do you say?"

Before Satoru could react (which, let's be honest, would probably be in the form of that punch he dreamed of throwing), he felt a warm presence prostrate itself behind him. A larger, stronger hand wrapped around Satoru's wrist, breaking the grip Naoya had on him. 

Satoru glanced over his shoulder and found himself face to face with Suguru, but he wasn't looking at him, instead staring at Naoya with an intense gaze Satoru had never seen before.

"Sorry, but he already has a workout partner."

Satoru tried to suppress the shiver that ran down his spine at the deep tone that came from Suguru's mouth, his warm breath lightly brushing against Satoru's cheek.

He turned his gaze towards Naoya just in time to see his smile faltering, his hands clenching into fists at his sides, looking like a sullen child who just lost his toy. He glared at Suguru with annoyance in his eyes, but his superior demeanor didn't change at all, continuing to act like an arrogant, smug prick. 

"And you are?"

"None of your business," Suguru replied calmly, which made Satoru snap his head at his friend immediately. He'd never seen Suguru use that tone of voice with anyone before, not even that time he answered a call from an annoying client who wanted to schedule a tattoo appointment with him in the middle of his workout. 

Satoru watched Suguru's face, appearing to be neutral and implacable, but he could see the slight curve of his mouth, his tense, sharp jaw indicating that deep down Suguru wanted to punch Naoya as much as Satoru did. 

"Now, if you'll excuse us, Satoru and I will finish our training."

And then Suguru wrapped the hand that had been holding Satoru's wrist around his waist, his touch gentle but firm, turning him around and guiding his body away from Naoya.

But of course the prick wasn't satisfied with that half-answer. He stepped forward, dodging the gym machine they'd been using until then and stopping in front of the two again, an irritated look on his face, his mouth snarling.

"Hey! I wasn't done talking to him."

And perhaps he spoke the sentence loudly on purpose to try to ridicule Suguru, with some students stopping what they were doing and looking in the direction of the commotion that had begun to form, trying to understand the situation.

But if Naoya wanted Suguru to lose his temper, his attempts were in vain. Suguru stood calmly, his controlled, impassive expression still present on his face. He gazed at Naoya up and down, seeming to study him and his posture, and when he looked up at him again, he gave a confident, mischievous smile, tilting his head to the side as if in pity of him. 

"I'm afraid you're already finished, yes."

And then, in a much lower voice, meant only for him and Naoya to hear, he added, "If you bother Satoru again, I swear to God I'll punch you in the face," he said, his smile and calm tone never faltering. 

With his hand still on Satoru's waist, he guided him away from Naoya, who stood motionless and perplexed, probably still trying to understand the situation.

But all of this remained in the background for Satoru, just a small white noise compared to the thunder of blood roaring in his ears, his mind chanting over and over Suguru's touching me, Suguru's touching me, Suguru's touching me. All Satoru could focus on was Suguru's warm hand on his waist, his grounding touch guiding him away from Naoya, protecting him. Not because he was a fragile thing (he obviously wasn't), but because Suguru cared about him. 

They stopped at a quieter corner of the gym near the windows, the cool wind blowing through them and delivering some much-needed air to Satoru, helping him to function normally again. It took a while for Satoru to realize Suguru was talking to him, his mouth moving agitatedly.

"...'m sorry I'm late, Satoru. I got your water, but I noticed a commotion at the reception and went to check it out; apparently, a fitness brand is partnering with the gym today and they're giving away some free samples of this creatine gummies that tastes like green apple or something. I stopped by to get you some packets because I thought you might like them and... Hey, ‘Toru? You okay there? Are you listening to me?” Suguru said agitatedly, practically vomiting the words out, a worried expression taking over where his face had previously been stoic.

His hand was still gripped around his waist, and they were standing very close to each other, closer than they'd ever been before. Satoru tried to answer Suguru's questions. He tried to say anything, really, but all his traitorous mind could conjure up were images of Suguru pushing and pressing him against the windows, kissing him right there in the middle of the gym. 

Satoru wondered what Suguru's mouth taste like, what kind of kisser he would be? Would he be the gentle type, slowly opening him up? Or would he demand that Satoru surrender all his control to him with a bruising, hot kiss? Would he grab Satoru by the neck and mark him from the inside out with just his pierced tongue?

Thinking Satoru's lack of response was a sign of stress, Suguru let out a worried sound deep in his throat, cupping his red cheek with his other hand and pulling Satoru even closer. 

"Doll, are you feeling okay? Talk to me, please," he said softly, stroking Satoru’s face carefully. His thumb was dangerously close to Satoru's mouth, and he fought the urge to suck it into his mouth.

The pet name did nothing to calm the storm brewing in Satoru's heart, but he managed a few shaky breaths, blinking a little and looking at Suguru with vulnerability, his hands snaking around Suguru's wrist, not to push him, but to keep his touch there.

"I... I'm fine, Sugu’, really. I just got a little overstimulated back there, that’s all.”

“O-Oh. Oh yeah, fuck. Sorry, Satoru. It must be because I’m touching you like this and—” Suguru had a very desperate and frustrated look on his face, as if he was afraid he was forcing his contact with Satoru for some reason. He began to loosen his hold, stepping away from Satoru's personal space.

But Satoru held him in place without a second thought, grasping his hand at Suguru's hoodie and keeping him close to him, "No! No, it’s not your fault. You don't overstimulate me at all, Suguru. You— You don't have to worry."

"Oh. Oh, okay then. That’s good," Suguru said dumbly, looking at Satoru with surprise in his eyes, as if he couldn't believe what he just heard. He slowly placed his hands back on Satoru's cheek, as if he were making sure Satoru was okay with it.

”Then what happened?"

“I just have a bit of a headache; Naoya really knows how to get under my skin," Satoru replied, grimacing at the memory of the greasy hands touching his skin.

"Wait, that was Naoya? Your annoying coworker you always complain about?" Suguru asked, perplexed, probably remembering all the times Satoru had messaged him to curse Naoya's mere existence over the past few weeks. They had even thought of a nickname for him once, "rotten seaweed-head", because of his questionable hair color.

"Yeah, that’s him."

"Damn, he's even more disgusting in person. You were really being kind when you described him to me."

The random insult coming out of nowhere caught Satoru off guard, making him laugh in surprise. But the sound quickly died in his throat as a stab of pain shot behind his eyes, making him groan in discomfort, one of his hands shot up at the bridge of his nose, his eyes squeezing shut.

"Shit, I think I'm going to get a migraine soon."

Suguru replaced Satoru's fingers with his own, massaging the area lightly, trying to ease the pain a little bit.

"You should go home then. Come on, I'll walk you to your car."

"I didn't come with him today. I walked all the way here."

"What? Why?" came Suguru's exasperated question, his face contorting with indignation.

"Because the weather was nice? I don't know, the wind was refreshing or something." Satoru replied indignantly, his pout causing Suguru to chuckle, his face relaxing again and looking at Satoru with a strange expression.

"Then I'll give you a ride home on my motorcycle, come on," he said, already looking determined and releasing Satoru's body from his embrace. 

He handed him his water bottle and some small packets with a colorful packaging and green candies inside—probably the creatine gummies he'd mentioned earlier. Satoru didn't even have time to miss his friend's touch; Suguru immediately grabbed Satoru's hand affectionately while pulling him towards the gym exit.

And once again, Satoru took a few pathetic seconds to understand what was happening, too focused on the texture of Suguru's hand in his and thinking about how perfectly they fitted together. When his stupid mind finally realized what Suguru had said, they were already in front of the lockers, with Suguru typing in his password and grabbing his backpack with just one hand, so as not to release Satoru’s hand from his.

"Wait a minute— What? You're going to give me a what?"

"I'm going to give you a ride. You said you don't live too far from here, right? I'll take you home so you can get some rest," Suguru said, pulling Satoru towards the exit, the two of them ignoring the gym receptionist's surprised look at the sight of them walking hand in hand. 

Oh, right. Satoru was walking hand in hand with Suguru in public. Suguru, of his own free will, was holding Satoru's hand.

The realization made Satoru blush all over again, his voice stuttering a little at his next sentence, "S-Suguru, that's not necessary. I'm not feeling that bad, and like you said, my house isn't that far. You don't need to worry about me like that," he said as they crossed the street, the wind now blowing stronger and more insistently, making the brown leaves of the trees fly wildly. 

They stopped in front of a black motorcycle with a blue and gold dragon decal adorning its sides; it had a beautiful and distinctive design, with sharp curves that made it clear that the bike was as fast as it was beautiful. A gust of wind roared around them, making Satoru shiver with the sudden cold, running his hands around his arms involuntarily to ward off the goosebumps that were breaking out on his skin, distracting him from further observing the motorcycle. 

Suguru noticed the movement, immediately reaching for the hem of his hoodie and pulling it up, taking it off his body and handing it to Satoru, signaling for him to put it on. Before Satoru could even deny it, Suguru interrupted him with a pleading look in his eyes, making Satoru bite the inside of his cheek, reluctantly pulling Suguru's hoodie over his head and putting it on. 

Seemingly satisfied with the sight of Satoru shielded from the wind on his clothes, Suguru pulled his body closer again, his hands wrapping more intently around Satoru's waist this time, looking at him like a kicked puppy. 

"I know you can handle yourself, but I would feel more relieved taking you home. Please, Satoru?"

And there's no way Satoru could say no to that face, with Suguru looking at him so lovingly, as if he was the person who needed this the most, as if Satoru were doing him a favor, and not the other way around. 

So that's how Satoru found himself sitting on the seat of Suguru's motorcycle, a helmet perched on his head and his arms wrapped tightly around Suguru's torso. The cityscape passed by them in a haze, the lights of the city and other cars turning into a blur of indistinct colors and shapes. Suguru was a great driver, weaving between cars with swiftness and navigating the streets of Tokyo with ease.

When they stopped at a traffic light, Satoru pressed his palm a little harder on Suguru's stomach to steady himself, feeling his abdomen contract with the surprise of the touch. Satoru felt a bit confident by not having to face the intensity of Suguru's gaze at that moment, so he gave a light scratch just above Suguru's navel, feeling the skin contract beneath his hand again, making Suguru shiver slightly at the sensation.

"Sorry," Satoru said softly in Suguru's ear, hoping he could hear him over the helmets they were wearing. Suguru simply brushed his hand over Satoru's, keeping his touch present on Suguru's skin.

Keep it there, came the silent order. And Satoru was more than happy to obey.

Soon enough, they finally arrived in front of Satoru's penthouse, just in time as his headache became a bit more insistent. 

He reluctantly got out of the motorcycle, letting go of Suguru’s warm body, and unbuckled the helmet he was wearing, handing it to his friend after Suguru got off the bike as well, leaning relaxedly against it. 

The streetlights gently reflected at Suguru's face, who was looking at Satoru with a glint in his eyes, a small smile adorning his face. He lifted his hand and wrapped it around Suguru's waist once more, bringing him close and placing Satoru between his open legs while lightly caressing the small of his back and the juncture of his hips.

"I should’ve known you'd live in such a fancy apartment," Suguru teased, an playful smile spreading across his face as he stared at the building where the white-haired man lived, causing Satoru, despite the pain, to smile right back at him, rolling his eyes and returning to his brat act. 

"Yeah yeah. Just so you know, I live in the penthouse." Satoru said with a humming voice, watching with delight as Suguru rolled her eyes at him too, letting out a small tsk.

"Of course you live. Spoiled brat."

"You love me," Satoru said, sticking his tongue out at Suguru playfully.

He realized too late what he'd said, the atmosphere shifting immediately with the way Suguru began to look at Satoru, a more intense glow taking over his eyes.

"Mhm. I do."

Satoru sighed shakily at the answer, breathing Suguru's sandalwood scent into his lungs like a lifebuoy in the ocean, fighting the full-body shiver he felt at Suguru's tone, so sincere and vulnerable and raw, the words dissolving in the air and enveloping Satoru in a warm, addictive feeling. 

He felt Suguru's hand tighten around his waist, making him bite his lip involuntarily at the sensation. Suguru followed the movement of his mouth with his caramel eyes, looking at Satoru in a way he couldn't describe.

After a few seconds that felt like hours of the two of them just breathing the same air and feeling each other's warmth, Suguru raised his eyes to meet Satoru's, his expression growing slightly softer, but still carrying an intensity that Satoru could practically feel on the tip of his tongue.

"You should come in, it's getting colder."

"Oh. Yeah, you're right," Satoru replied, pulling away slightly, making a move to start pulling off Suguru's sweatshirt. "Let me just give you your hoodie back."

"No. Keep it," came Suguru's request, the order making Satoru automatically release his hands from the hem of his clothes and look at his friend, feeling a little lost. Suguru smiled gently at him, cupping his chin in his hands. "You can give it back to me the next time we see each other. What do you think?"

"Y-yeah. Sure. Whatever you want, dude," Satoru said lamely, feeling like his brain was literally melting inside his skull.

Suguru snorted at his response, looking endearingly at Satoru and bringing his face closer to his. Satoru gasped softly when he felt the small kiss Suguru gave him on the cheek, his face burning with the sensation of his lips against his skin. He could feel his cock getting hard inside his gym shorts, fighting the urge to squirm in front of Suguru.

"I'll see you soon, okay, 'Toru? Text me when you get inside your place."

“S-Sure. Okay. I will. Bye, Suguru.”

“Bye, Satoru.”

And just like that, Satoru walked into his apartment, the sound of his heart pounding wildly inside his heart all the way from the lobby to the elevator. Satoru opened his door automatically, kicking off his sneakers and heading straight inside his home, not even bothering to turn on the lights in his apartment, bumping into some furniture here and there and cursing softly at it. 

When he arrived at his suite, Satoru typed a quick thank you for the ride and asked Suguru to text him when he got home, so he would know he arrived safely. He glanced at the direction of his bathroom for a moment, wondering if he should take a quick shower to wash away the anxiety that was feeling stuck in his skin. But in the end, the tiredness and headache got the better of him. 

Satoru threw himself onto his bed with a loud groan, wrapping himself in the covers and hugging Suguru's sweatshirt he was still wearing, bringing the fabric close to his nose and deeply inhaling the scent of the man he was madly in love with.

He blinked at his ceiling, suddenly feeling a little lost around the edges. The events that had happened passed through Satoru's mind in a hazy blur, making him squirm in his bed and feel hot all over. His head still hurted a lot behind his eyes, but despite the discomfort he could feel his blood rushing to his groin, the phantom touch of Suguru's lips still felt present on his skin.

I wish he had kissed me on the mouth, came Satoru's intrusive thoughts. His mind couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to feel Suguru's lips on his. His piercings would certainly feel cold to the touch, but Satoru would make a point of warming them with his mouth, making sure to spread his saliva all over them. 

Satoru felt his dick give a traitorous twitch in his underwear at the thought, causing him to kick his gym pants off his body with an exasperated groan, dropping them to the floor. 

His mind flashed back to the events at the gym that afternoon, remembering the feel of Suguru's touch on his body, his strong embrace around him as he shielded him away from Naoya's slippery hands.

And what was really making Satoru horny wasn't the way Suguru "controlled" him in that moment, because he knew that wasn't what had happened; he could take care of himself just fine, and he knew Suguru was very aware of this fact. But he still insisted on caring for Satoru in that moment, a gentle hand on his lower back guiding him away from the stress.

In the end, Suguru didn't have to make any effort to get Satoru to relinquish control and trust him—his very essence alone was enough.

Satoru remembered the sight of Suguru’s sharp jaw, the penetrating, possessive gaze he'd casted Naoya’s way... and all of this just for him. Satoru knew he shouldn't find all of this attractive, but he couldn't help it. 

Maybe Nanami was right; ignorant jerks like Naoya did have some use, after all.

Now wearing only his boxers and the hoodie that belonged to Suguru, Satoru caught himself slowly sliding his hand down to his cock, lightly caressing it over the fabric.

Suguru would definitely be the sweet type in bed, Satoru thinked absently, feeling a strong shiver run through his body at the thought of Suguru coaxing him into submission, all sweet words and gentle touches, surely making Satoru surrender to the pleasure without a second thought.

Satoru slowly lowered his boxers, embarrassed to realize that his cock was already fully erect and twitching, the head a little wet with drops of precum. He wrapped his hand around the base, whimpering softly at the contact he'd craved all day, finally feeling some sort of relief.

He began to masturbate himself slowly, rubbing his hand up and down with gentle strokes, biting his lips to avoid moaning too loudly, embarrassed by the way he was already feeling so worked up. Satoru imagined what it would be like to have Suguru's hands around his dick instead of his own, how the texture would be different, Suguru's hands more warm and bigger.

Or maybe he's the mean type? At that, images of Suguru's hands invaded his mind, making him remember the way he had held his waist with such a strong touch, recording the way Suguru looked at him while he was doing squats; as if he wanted to devour him right there in the middle of the gym, like he was trying to control himself to not do anything stupid. 

Only the Gods know how much Satoru wanted Suguru to give up that willpower and just allow himself pleasure, to do whatever he wanted to do with him. 

In the first days after Satoru discovered he was gay, he tried to convince himself that, if he ever got together with another man, he would definitely be the one who tops—It would make perfect sense, wouldn't it? He'd always been a dominant person his entire life, reeling in control like he needed air. It would only be fair if he turned out to be the same in bed. 

But the thought didn't even last a few days, quickly fading away when Satoru realized that one thing had nothing to do with the other. 

Most importantly, Satoru remembered how sometimes Suguru's caring and sweet personality gave way to something else… how sometimes his loving smile became more mischievous, his touch more firmer, and his gaze more intense; perhaps to anyone else, this shift would be practically imperceptible, but Satoru sensed these nuances into his soul.

And sometimes, in the darkness of his room—just like now—Satoru craved these little things. Craved to feel like the object of Suguru's hidden personality's devotion, to bow down beneath him and let Suguru do whatever he wanted to him.

In a way, Satoru realized he was right; he was indeed a powerful and confident person, yes. He was someone who dominated every room he entered with ease—he had always been like this and would probably continue to be until the day he died.

But that didn’t change the fact he wanted to surrender to Suguru.

And there is strength in surrender, he supposes. If there was anyone in the world who could make Satoru accept this, it was Suguru.

Maybe this realization should make Satoru feel suffocated and strange, but when he realized how much he wanted Suguru to dominate him, how all of this felt just right and in place, he could only feel free.

He wanted Suguru to throw him around as he pleased and just make Satoru take him, make him be a good boy and accept everything the black haired man had to offer, take his dick really good and make Suguru only want him for the rest of his life. 

He'd never considered himself a really jealous person, but the thought made his belly feel warm and his length twitch pathetically in his hand.

And that's okay. Satoru has been discovering a lot of new things about himself lately, so of course he could add possessive and pathetic to the list. He would write that right below "very gay for Geto Suguru".

Satoru paused, deciding that the dry sensation of his hand wasn't satisfying him enough anymore. He reached over to the desk next to his bed and opened the bottom drawer, blindly reaching for the old bottle of lube he was sure he'd stashed somewhere there. After finding it, he shifted back into place, opening the bottle and squirting some of the shimmery, cold liquid onto his hands. He then returned to slowly stroke himself again, flicking a little at his cockhead and going all the way down to squeeze at the base, edging himself a little, hot puffs of breath leaving his mouth with the torturous sensation.

With the increasing sensation of heat in his body and his headache becoming more of a background noise, the white-haired man found himself overcome with thoughts of Suguru again. More specifically, of Suguru inside him. Of Suguru’s fingers inside of him. 

Satoru blushed hard at the thought of his best friend’s mean touch opening him up to take his cock, whispering sweet nothings into his ear. He slipped his lube-filled hand down to his balls, caressing them a little before descending more and poking a curious finger around his rim, uncertain of what to do with it, deciding to only circle it around a little, cursing softly at the new feeling.

As he begins to get used to the pressure around his entrance, Satoru inserted the tip of his wet middle finger inside him, gasping loudly at the sensation—it was not a bad feeling exactly, just something new he was not used to. He withdrew the tip of his finger slowly, returning to circle outside his hole a little faster, his other hand wrapping around his cock and massaging it very lightly, just to keep the stimulation barely there. 

After a while edging himself with his light touch, Satoru began to feel something missing inside him. He felt kind of delirious when he pushed his finger back into his entrance, this time going a little deeper, feeling his walls contract around the intrusion. He realized the sensation felt slightly better this time, causing him to let out little sighs of pleasure. He started to circle the finger that was inside of him, dragging it out, pushing it back in, repeating the motion.

During the entire time, his mind didn't stop for a second thinking about Suguru—thinking about how he would act if he saw the state Satoru was in now, wearing nothing but his hoodie and playing with his hole while thinking about him.

Satoru began to rub a second finger around his entrance as he got more accustomed to the feeling of fullness. He pressed it in, whimpering loudly at the slightly suffocating feeling—it almost felt like he was burning from the inside at the new stretch, but he still tried to ease his hole gently. Everything was feeling a little strange until he felt himself starting to loosen up, the sensation becoming a little more bearable. He slowly inserted his two fingers back inside himself in back and forth motions, feeling a strange sense of satisfaction at the feeling of fullness in his hole.

He wondered if Suguru would do that to him, slowly open him with his fingers until he could take his cock all the way to the hilt. He would certainly make the process much more satisfying, make Satoru moan for his fingers and beg for more, beg to feel even more full of him. 

Satoru felt himself drool a little on his pillow as he remembered how beautiful Suguru's hands were; big, tattooed, and powerful, with his pretty nails painted black. Satoru was sure he would feel delirious with them inside him. He grinds down on his fingers at the thought, thrusting them faster and imagining Suguru between his thighs, smiling cruelly as he looks down at him. 

Would Suguru be the type to curse in bed? Would he call Satoru a slut when he saw the way he would beg desperately for his touch? Would he like the way Satoru's hole would get even tighter from being degraded?

“Mhmmm… Fuck,” Satoru mumbled, starting to sissors his fingers inside him a little faster, moaning openly at the new sensation. His dick was so hard it hurted, and his cockhead was even wetter by now, oozing precum and even wetting his belly a little. 

Satoru decided then and there that he really likes having something inside him, the feeling of being opened and having his most sensitive spots touched becoming more and more pleasurable for him with each passing minute. He began to squeeze his fingers around his hole more vigorously, wet sounds coming out from him at the movement. He crooked his fingers up experimentally, shouting at his ceiling as he feels an electric sensation run through his entire body.

What the fuck was that? 

He pressed his fingers into the same spot again, harder this time, and felt his eyes roll back in his head, letting out a stream of pathetic whimpers at the intense sensation he was experiencing; Satoru felt his entire body shiver, his hole contracting deliciously as he pressed on that small bundle of nerves he found, as if it's sending small vibrations throughout his entire body. 

Satoru decided to roll over onto his stomach, limbs heavy as jelly, and get on all fours, sticking his ass in the air. He begin to thrust his fingers back into his hole with more force, continuing to press on that spot over and over, creating a sloppy pattern of fucking himself on his own fingers and crocking them around, beginning to lose himself more and more at the hot feeling coursing through his body.

Satoru realized he started to rub his cock pathetically against the mattress beneath him, mewling around his pillow and thrusting hard into his hole, imagining it was Suguru behind him, finger-fucking him with force, preparing Satoru so he can take his cock. He couldn't help it but moan Suguru's name softly over and over, feeling more needy than ever. 

He imagined Suguru was behind him, imagined that it was his fingers fucking him. Satoru moaned out at the thought of him whispering little encouraging words in his ear, telling him that he was being so good to him, that he would be so perfect around his cock… Satoru brought his free hand down to the hoodie he’s wearing, bringing the fabric to his face and deeply inhaling Suguru's scent—and that was all it took for him to lose himself into the pleasure and cum.

Satoru cummed the hardest he's ever did in his life, Suguru's name curling around his tongue as he moaned into his pillow, tears welling in his eyes at the intensity of the sensation, almost making him forget how to breathe properly, his throat choking on desperate gasps of air. He felt the orgasm all around his body, shuddering violently as his spine stretched at odd angles. He could barely keep fucking himself through it all, just continuing to press with weak fingers around that sweet spot until his hand finally lost its strength, withdrawing it with a wet squelch sound, finally letting his body fall against the dirty matress, his muscles spasming as the sensation of heat was slowly draining from his body, leaving him cold and shivering.

When Satoru finally regained his senses, he weakly rose from his mattress, heading toward his bathroom on weak legs and cleaning himself with hazy eyes, barely aware of what he was doing. With the heat of his orgasm already leaving his body, Satoru started to feel more alone than ever, his headache slowly creeping back in. He never wished more for Suguru to be near him now, just so he could feel his warmth again and let his friend care and soothe for him in his post-orgasm state.

After returning from his bathroom, Satoru quickly changed his bedclothes, tossing the soiled sheets angrily towards the laundry basket and replacing it with fresh ones. When Satoru  finally wrapped himself back in his covers, he was feeling cold and tired, all the relief from his masturbation gone from his body and mind.

Just as he found a comfortable position on his pillows and was catching his breath, he heard his cell phone ring on his desk with the sound of a new message. Satoru grabbed the device with a shaking hand and stared at the screen, wincing at the brightness.

Suguru [19:05 pm]
hey Toru, i just got home
i stopped at a restaurant nearby to get me some teriyaki ramen
how are u feeling? 

Like I’m gonna die if you don’t fuck me soon enough.

Satoru [19:06 pm]
good 
my head is kind of killing me
but i’m okay
got yourself some good food? i’m jealous

Suguru [19:06 pm]
i'll take you out to eat here one day
they have some really tasty daifuku,
i'm sure you'll like it

Satoru [19:06 pm]
✦ Garfield with a thumbs-up sticker ✦
sounds like a plan
you’re paying btw

Suguru [19:06 pm]
brat

He chuckled at the interaction, practically imagining the annoyed look Suguru must be making to his phone. He felt a fresh wave of pain attack him, his eyes watering slightly from the discomfort. At the same moment, a new message from Suguru arrived, as if he had some kind of divination power and knew Satoru was suffering.

Suguru [19:07 pm]
you should go to sleep u’ know
so u can feel better in the morning

Satoru [19:07 pm]
yeah i just lay down
good night Sugu
thanks for the drive again
i really appreciate it

Suguru [19:08 pm]
i know
dw
you would do the same for me

Satoru [19:07 pm]
in a heartbeat

Suguru [19:08 pm]
thats good 
sweet dreams Toru
sleep well  

Satou adjusted himself better on the bed, placing his phone on his desk again and covering himself with his fluffy blankets completely, lying curled up on his side while bringing Suguru's hoodie he was still wearing closer to his face again, breathing in the last of Suguru's scent that remained on the fabric, as if that were enough medicine to end his pain. And he wasn't just talking about the headache.

He fell asleep like that, listening to the sound of the wind howling outside and feeling his heart clenching in his chest, his poor mind trying to make sense of everything that had happened, choking on all the feelings he wanted to declare to the tattooed man who had changed his life forever.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯     ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

"Shit. Open up, you fucking fucker!" Satoru exclaimed irritably, struggling against the instant noodles package he was trying to eat. His fingers clawed uselessly at the seal, which refused to budge. Satoru grabbed his chopsticks and pierced through the package, ripping off the remaining plastic angrily with his mouth and taking a large forkful of the food, groaning at the taste.

His Agumon-shaped clock that sat above his kitchen cabinets said it was already past midnight. It was Friday already.

Satoru had just returned from one of the most stressful days at work so far; his father's company had closed an unexpected deal with a major client, forcing all employees and departments to bend over into a crazy and exhausting schedule to be able to deliver all projects on time. Satoru had worked like a madman for  the past week, skipping meals frequently and barely sleeping. To make matters worse, Naoya was being even more irritating at work, causing Satoru's homicidal tendencies to escalate exponentially. 

His poor father must have noticed he was more stressed than usual—probably noticing the dark circles under his eyes—and convinced him to take three weeks off to rewind a little bit. Satoru quickly accepted the offer, with the exception that his father promised to contact him if he needed help with anything. So hopefully the next few weeks would be a little kinder to Satoru's health.  

But the worst part of all this in Satoru's opinion was that with all this running around at the company, he hasn't been able to see Suguru at all, unable to take some time in his schedule to go work out with him. It had been a week since that fateful day Suguru lent him his hoodie and tested the limits of Satoru's poor heart, and he didn't even get the chance to return Suguru's clothing like he promised. 

And Satoru misses Suguru. He misses him so much he feels like he might cry a little. 

Of course, they still texted constantly, telling each other all about their days and generally being present in each other's daily lives, but it wasn't the same for Satoru. He misses talking to him in person, laughing at their antics. He misses Suguru’s warm smile, his deep, gentle voice. He misses the way Suguru looks at him, the way he touches him. Satoru has been so touch deprived these past few days that it’s like he's practically mourning the loss of Suguru's presence. 

Satoru's heart had been a mess, yes, but his mind couldn't stop trying to rationalize the events of that day—well, actually, he couldn't care less about why Naoya acted the way he did—but he couldn't stop replaying the things Suguru did for him that afternoon. 

He couldn't exactly prove it, but something told him that Suguru acted that way around Naoya not just out of protection, but also because he was jealous of him? Maybe? I mean. Naoya is disgusting and all. Just the thought of someone thinking they could be a couple makes Satoru feel fucking sick to his stomach. But the idea of ​​Suguru being jealous of him? Of being possessive of him? That's a fucking power trip for Satoru.

Because if Suguru was that jealous, then maybe—just maybe—there could be a chance that he also likes Satoru. Maybe it could mean he likes him more than just a friend, that maybe Satoru isn't alone in this, that all this whirlwind of feelings and the desire to be close to Suguru isn't something only he is experiencing. 

But at the same time, Satoru can't help but feel insecure about this. Because what if he's wrong? What if this is just how Suguru acts around people he's very close to? Just how he is in a friendship? 

What if this is all Suguru feels for Satoru? Friendship? Or even worse, what if Suguru already had feelings for someone else, what if there was no place in Suguru's heart for Satoru to even try to fill it?

He somberly reminded of that Hiroshi-guy they'd met at the gym a few weeks ago, the way he'd lingered around Suguru like a plague. He was probably just waiting for the first chance to ask Suguru out. And the worst part? There's a chance Suguru might say yes; If not to him, then to others. Only the Gods know how long the list of people interested in Suguru is; Satoru had seen it firsthand.

All this duality in his feelings was driving Satoru crazy. He knew that if he continued this line of thinking, it wouldn't be long before he spiraled into a whirlwind of self-deprecating thoughts, and the last thing he needed right now was a mental breakdown on the first weekend he'd had off in a long time.

Satoru stared at his food, feeling his hunger fading more and more with each passing second. Still, he forced himself to eat another bite, chewing slowly as he stared into space in his dark, lonely apartment. His wet, white hair dripped tiny droplets of water from his previous shower onto the marble kitchen countertop, emitting small plopping sounds that harmonized with the howling of the wind outside. The weather had worsened even more these past few days; an imminent storm seemed to be slowly gathering over Tokyo, ready to descend at any moment, and darkly, Satoru thought the weather reflected how he felt inside.

As much as he'd always thought he was straight, he'd never actually felt anything for any woman. Sure, he'd always found plenty of girls pretty here and there, but rationalizing his behavior a bit more, he realized that he felt more admiration for female figures than attraction—ever since he was a teenager, he'd always enjoyed analyzing clothes and makeup, and he really enjoyed making friends with other women too, the conversation always flowing easily and uncomplicatedly. He always thought this was just his natural charm with girls; but now he realized he had no problem interacting with women platonically, but the concept of getting romantically involved with them? No. He felt absolutely nothing for it.

And it's not like Satoru made a big deal out of the fact he'd never even had his first kiss yet; all this time, he'd just thought he was waiting for the right person, or rather, the right girl. He always tried not to dwell on the fact that he was already 24 years old and feeling alone all the time, like something was missing.

But when Suguru appeared in his life, Satoru finally understood what it was like to feel complete. What it was to long for someone so badly that it physically ached. He understood why no other person had ever caught his attention, because no one could ever come closer to being as perfect and charming as Suguru.

And when Satoru felt especially romantic, he imagined that the urge he felt to approach Suguru that day was nothing more than destiny being written, that they were destined to happen on that rainy afternoon, gravitating towards each other like two lonely planets.

Geto Suguru brought light into Satoru's world, and he hoped that Suguru felt the same way about him. And while accepting all these feelings made butterflies flutter around Satoru's chest, it also made him feel sick to his stomach—he wasn't used to feeling any of these things. He didn't know where to put all the love he felt for Suguru.

Snapping out of his thoughts, Satoru let out a loud groan and hit his head on the marble countertop, instantly regretting it when pain radiated throughout his skull from the impact. 

Stupid feelings. Even stupider heart. He slowly turned his head to the side, throwing daggers at his phone. 

At this time of night, Suguru should have already had his chamomile tea and gone to sleep, so it wasn't like Satoru could text him and chat for a bit to try and calm his nerves.

He could feel his sanity slowly spiraling around the edges of his mind, his vision getting hazy with distress.

Maybe if he talked to someone about his feelings, he could feel a little better? 

Yeah. Maybe he really needs to vent out to a friend. Like urgently. To vomit his feelings and insecurities out to someone he trusted and try to make all of this make more sense to him. Or at least make it more bearable.

He lifted his head, grabbing his phone and taking another bite of his now slightly cold food. 

As much as he trusted Nanami, texting him at this hour was out of the question, especially with how much his friend had worked alongside him these past days. Luckily, he'd managed to convince his father to also give him a well-deserved break, so Nanami should be fast asleep in his bed right now. Or maybe in some pretentious bar enjoying a even more pretentious drink. Either way, Satoru hoped his friend was having a good time. 

It turns out that being friends with the boss's son also had its perks. Could this also be considered nepotism?

With his mouth full of noodles, he sent a quick message to Utahime asking her to call him urgently, grabbing his little bowl of noodles and saving the rest in the fridge for later, heading towards his room right after. With the cold autumn weather starting to appear more, all he wanted was to be safer and warmer in the comfort of his bed while he cried his feelings out to his friend.

"Sup loser," Utahime's voice rang out over Satoru's cell phone speaker at the same time laid comfortably around his covers, holding the phone up to his ear.

"Don't say sup, it sounds disgusting coming from you." Satoru answered, glaring at his ceiling with a bitter expression, “Where did you even learn to talk like that?"

"I learned it from you, dipshit."

"So? I'm allowed to say it and you aren't." Satoru could practically hear the curse directed at him climbing his friend's throat, so he quickly stepped forward and blurted out his next words without thinking, "Also, I'm gay."

"..." 

"Hello? Utahime?"

“...” 

Complete silence. Not even a sound.

“Bitch, if you don’t answer me right now I swear to Go-”

"Took you this long to find out?"

"Excuse me?" Satoru asked indignantly, sitting up and staring into his closet door with murderous eyes, as if Utahime could see the expression he was making, "What do you even mean by that?"

"Just kidding," Utahime replied, the tone of her voice making it clear she wasn't joking at all, but Satoru felt so tired that he just let it go, throwing himself back onto his bed with a heavy sigh and letting out a dramatic groan, making a point of bringing the speaker close to his mouth to make sure Utahime heard his lament. And of course she ignored him, continuing the conversation as if she hadn't just insulted him or something. Rude.

"So, how are you feeling? Does anyone else know?"

"I don't know exactly how I feel. It's not a bad feeling per se, but it's something new about me that I'm not used to," Utahime hummed sympathetically on the other end, waiting for Satoru to continue, “And only you know so far. It's not like I'm embarrassed to admit it to others, but I wanted to better understand what I'm feeling before I openly admit it to the world, you know? Does that make sense?"

"Yeah, it makes perfect sense. I felt the same way when I found out I was a lesbian," came the reply from the other end of the line, Utahime's tone soft in a way she only reserved for when Satoru really needed her support, “Thanks for telling me."

Satoru hummed in response, a happy, relaxing sound coming from his throat. He heard Utahime sigh contentedly on the other end too, a buzzing sound indicating she was probably snuggling into her bed as well.

"Now, if you don't mind me asking, what led you to discover your preferences in men?"

"I—well... I think I have a crush on a guy from the gym."

"Uuuuuh~, who is it?" Utahime asked excitedly, always the gossip.

"His name is Geto Suguru. I met him two months ago during one of my workouts. I offered to help him while he lifted the barbell, and we've become friends ever since," Satoru replied with a sigh, stretching his limbs, trying to ease out the tension he was feeling, “He has piercings and beautiful black hair that's always tied up in a bun. He also has beautiful brown eyes and a gentle smile… Oh, and he has a lot of tattoos too. He works at a studio near Shibuya, and—"

"Jesus, Satoru," Utahime interrupted, chuckling at the other end of the line. "I've never heard you talk like that about anyone! You're really down bad for this guy, huh? Out of nowhere?"

"Ugh, I don't knoooooow ‘Hime," Satoru whined, curling up at his side and looking at the landscape outside his window. He could see the city lights shining, the clouds moving quickly across the sky due to the strong wind, a few lightning bolts appearing here and there, painting the dark sky with occasional bright spots. 

"He's drop-dead gorgeous, you know? I never thought I'd call a man handsome before, but he is. Like, so much it’s kind of annoying. And not only that, but he's very kind to me… He's such an interesting person, and he always knows what to say; he always listens to my pointless tangents, and not only that, but he responds and interacts with all the nonsense I say. It's like my personality isn't too much trouble for him… actually, it's like he completely matches my energy. I've seen him almost every day since we met, and I haven't gotten tired of him yet. Not even a little bit," Satoru groped through the covers on his bed until he found Suguru's sweatshirt, pulling it closer to him, Suguru's faint cologne still lingering barely on the fabric.

"You know how quickly I get bored of people, don't you? How hard it is for me to become truly interested in someone? I feel like everything is different with him... I've never felt this way before. It's like I'm addicted to him or something."

Utahime listened to Satoru's entire rant quietly, only letting out a small hum here and there, signaling that she was listening to everything he said. When Satoru finished talking, Utahime finally spoke.

"It sounds like you're actually serious about him.”

Satoru felt his throat go dry, his tongue nervously running over his lips.

“Yeah. Yeah, it does.”

“Do you think you're in love?"

"Honestly, ‘Hime?” Satoru took a deep breath, suddenly feeling more melancholic than ever, “If this isn't love, then I don't know what is."

"Really?"

"Well—I mean, I've never even liked anyone, right? But every cell in my body tells me that what I feel for Suguru is really serious. So... yeah. I think I'm in love with him."

"Then you should tell him. Be open about your feelings."

“No shit, Sherlock.”

“Now why the fuck are you acting like a bitch?”

"I—Sorry, sorry, it’s just… fuck. You’re right, I should talk to him. And that's the problem…" Satoru sighed depressedly, clutching the sweatshirt tighter over his chest. "I don't know how to tell him. Or if I should tell him. I mean, I know he's gay too, but that doesn't mean he automatically likes me, right? That would be a really dumb thought to have. And it's not like he knows I'm gay, he probably still thinks I'm completely straight." 

“Uh-huh. Yeah. He definitely thinks so.’’

“Amazing Utahime. Care to explain the sarcasm?”

“I was not even being sarcastic.

“Yeah, right.”

“I’m just saying you don’t exactly act straight. I mean, remember that time when you—”

“MY GOD. Can you focus on what I was saying? The ‘I don't know how to tell him my feelings’ part? For the love of God?”

"So what, Gojo? That doesn't mean you have to keep feeling bad like this. You'll just torture yourself like that."

"Ugh, you don't understand, Utahimeeee..." Satou whined, kicking his feet and rolling to the other side of the bed in a full tantrum, dragging Suguru's sweatshirt with him in the process. "I've really really really never felt like this. Not only are all these new feelings making me sick, but the fear of coming out and losing him is making me freak out. I know it sounds stupid, but... I can't sleep, I can't eat properly these past few days. I can't function as a human being because of all this, and you know what scares me the most? It's not the fact that I just discovered I'm gay, or the fact that at some point I'll have to come out to others, or to my father, for example. My biggest fear is losing him. It's opening my mouth and ending up losing his friendship. It hurts to have feelings for him, but can I even live again if he rejects me? What do I do if I have to move on without him in my life?”

When Satoru stopped speaking, he had a few tears in his eyes. He blinked hard and sniffed lightly, trying to calm himself and fight off the urge to cry. On the other end of the line, he could hear Utahime shifting in her bed, probably sitting up to speak better.

"Satoru, listen to me," came her friend's voice, her tone comforting but firm, “I know this is scary as hell. I know you're not used to this whole feelings thing and everything. But I guarantee you that from the moment you accept your feelings and share them with Geto, you'll feel much better.”

“I— I don’t know ‘Hime. What if I—”

“Please shut up and listen to me: It's not worth it torturing yourself like this. The more you bottle up your feelings, the worse you're going to feel, and you don't deserve that, okay? You know you don't deserve that, right? Repeat it to me."

"I—I don't deserve that," Satoru said slowly, his voice a little choked.

"Exactly. You don’t.” Utahime said with a satisfied voice on the other line, like she was happy that her point was proven right. 

“And Satoru, if you want my honest opinion, this Geto guy seems like a great person. When you were telling me about him, I could practically see your eyes shining with excitement. I think he'll be super receptive when you talk to him about your feelings; you don't need to be afraid of that,” There was a small pause, like she was remembering something, “It's not like you'll suffer like I did when I confessed my feelings to that asshole Mei Mei in college."

Satoru chuckled at that, the memories of the first time Utahime had her heart broken flooding his mind. He'd spent almost three months caring and supporting his friend through her various depressive phases, and also making sure she wouldn't commit some kind of crime on that witch.

"Sheeesh, you're still not over it, huh?" 

"If by 'still not over it,' you mean I still don't understand how someone like her rejected someone like me, then yes. I'm still not over it."

For the first time all week, Satoru burst out laughing thanks to his friend's outburst, his eyes filling with tears again for different reasons this time.

"Shut up! You're not still into her, are you?"

"God, no," Utahime disagreed vehemently, her voice thick with hatred and revulsion. Satoru began to laugh even harder. "I'm serious!!! I hate that girl with a passion. She led me on for months just to say that in the end she thought she wasn't ‘that much into girls’?? I mean, who says something like that????” 

“Yeah, she was terrible. It's not like I haven't warned you, though.”

“Haaah—...You know what Gojo, you're sensitive right now. So I'm going to pretend you didn't say that so I don't have to tell you to go fuck yourself.”

"Pfff, you're so full of shit—"

“Plus, I kinda met someone new these last few weeks too, sooooo… yeah." Utahime said in a sing-song voice, giggling happily.

"Hah? And why haven't you told me anything yet? C'monnnnn, spill the beans to me!"

"Ew. You’re such a gossiper," she said, feigning disgust, only to return to her excited speech right after, apparently too happy to continue mocking Satoru, "She's someone I met at work, a new doctor who's working in the room next to mine. She's really cute, has short brown hair and a beauty mark right under her eye that I find breathtaking." Utahime replied, sighing dreamily. If Satoru closed his eyes and concentrated, he was sure he could picture Utahime kicking her feet like a schoolgirl in love,"She has this whole 'I'm too cool to be here' vibe and some dark circles under her eyes that I find really hot and—"

Satoru interrupted her with a laugh, mimicking her words from earlier. "Oh, so you're down bad for this girl, huh? My dear Hime is in loooove~" he said humming. Utahime groaned from the other side.

"Stop it, Gojo! My God. Sometimes I forget how much I hate you."

"I hate you too, so it’s okay," Satoru replied, sighing happily, suddenly feeling as if the world wasn't ending anymore, the conversation with Utahime making him more relaxed and positive, dispelling the dark clouds from his head, "We should meet for coffee next week, talk a little more about this mysterious girl."

"Mhm, deal. We could go shopping too, I need some new clothes," Utahime agreed happily, letting out a yawn soon after, "Hey, I think I'm going to bed. You should too. God knows how screwed up your sleep schedule is, you should start taking better care of it, you know?"

"Yeah, you're right. It's pretty late already." Satoru agreed, looking at the clock on his bedside table. 1:35 AM. He really needed a good night of sleep.

"Good night 'Hime," Satoru said softly, also feeling a yawn forming in his throat.

"Night sweetpea,” Utahime replied fondly, “Oh, and Satoru?”

“Hm? Yes?”

"Tell him how you feel, okay? You got this. I’ll wait to hear how it goes.”

A few minutes later, with Satoru's night skincare already completed and Suguru's sweatshirt serving as comfortable pajamas, Satoru found himself curled up in his blankets again, staring thoughtfully at the small drops of water spreading across his window. The rain had begun to fall slowly over the city, the consistent sound of the drops reverberating over Satoru's penthouse, creating the perfect sound to lull him into a good night's sleep for the first time in a while. 

He remembered the kiss Suguru had given him on the cheek when he'd said goodbye to him one week ago. If Satoru concentrated hard enough, he could still feel the sensation of Suguru's warm lips against his skin, his firm hands holding him in place. Satoru shivered at the memory, letting go a little sad whimper and sinking deeper into the soft mattress of his bed, wrapping his arms around his waist, trying to imitate the position Suguru had held him, pretending it was him there. 

His heart was a little lighter thanks to his conversation with Utahime, but no less anxious than it already was, and all the longing he felt for Suguru was definitely not helping. Satoru closed his eyes tightly, choosing to ignore all the thoughts that were popping into his head from the conversation he had with his friend. He decided to focus on only one thing.

He knew what he needed to do. Tomorrow will be the day. 

He would finally tell Geto Suguru how he felt.

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