you can take me hot to go

“Okay,” Utahime says, massaging her temples, “you know what?”
“No.” Satoru says, and stares at the DM from Suguru so hard his vision starts to blur.
“Gojo Satoru.” She snaps her fingers in front of his face, disturbing his hyper-locked in view of the phone screen, and he blinks, the world coming back into focus.
“Huh?” He says.
“Okay, I have known you since you were, what? Twelve? Thirteen?”
Satoru makes an iffy sort of hand gesture. It was somewhere around there, who knows really. He can’t remember all that.
“Okay, so I say this with the full weight of well over a decade of…” She pauses, thinking.
“Friendship.” He supplies, nodding.
She stares at him dead-eyed.
“Acquaintanceship?” He tries, failing to stop the pout.
“Proximity.” She decides firmly.

Notes:

this is just some light-hearted fun, happy pride ♡

Work Text:

“Okay,” Utahime says, massaging her temples, “you know what?”

“No.” Satoru says, and stares at the DM from Suguru so hard his vision starts to blur.

“Gojo Satoru.” She snaps her fingers in front of his face, disturbing his hyper-locked in view of the phone screen, and he blinks, the world coming back into focus.

“Huh?” He says.

“Okay, I have known you since you were, what? Twelve? Thirteen?”

Satoru makes an iffy sort of hand gesture. It was somewhere around there, who knows really. He can’t remember all that.

“Okay, so I say this with the full weight of well over a decade of …” She pauses, thinking.

“Friendship.” He supplies, nodding.

She stares at him dead-eyed.

“Acquaintanceship?” He tries, failing to stop the pout.

“Proximity.” She decides firmly. “And maybe some friendship,” she adds, taking pity on him, “but it’s buried very deep.”

“I’ll take it.” He smiles at her. “You love me.”

“No.” She says firmly, with the air of a practiced conversation, probably because they’ve had it multiple times. He’s not bothered. “Anyway, I am saying this with the weight of that behind it, so I need you to listen to me.”

Because he is a grown man and mature now he locks his phone and looks at her.

“Do you want me to hold your hands when I say this?” She asks.

“No.” He crosses his arms. “Wait, maybe. Your new nails are cute.”

She dead eyes him again but takes his hands.

“Okay.” She waits until he settles. “Gojo Satoru, Satoru even, if I may for now,” he nods graciously, accepting this, “in high school, you,” she pauses and looks at him until he looks back, “and I truly don’t know how you haven’t realized this yet at your big age of 27,”

“You’re literally older than me.” He interjects.

“You were,” she talks over him, “aggressively and completely gay for Geto.”

“Huh?” He says.

“Like, so gay for him.”

“I’m straight?” Satoru says. “Not that there’s anything wrong with being gay, obviously,” he nods at her, “just like, I’m straight though.”

“Okay.” She rolls her eyes.

“I’ve dated women.” He says, not sure why he feels like he’s defending himself.

“You could be gay and have dated women.” She reminds him. “Don’t be rude.”

“No, true, true,” he waves his hands, “apologies, I misspoke, I understand that. I just mean– I’m straight.” He repeats, although it sounds weaker to his ears.

“Sure, buddy.” She nods patronizingly at him and he resists the urge to say something snippy because, as established, he’s mature now. “But I say this with complete confidence: I have never before or since seen someone as completely obliviously in gay love with someone as I saw you be with Geto.”

“I’m literally straight?” He says.

She makes a strangled sound and removes her hands from his, rude, to pull her phone out of her pocket. He leans forward to see what she’s doing and watches her call Shoko.

Hah, that’ll show her, he thinks. Shoko spent a lot of time with him and Suguru, in high school. In fact he had always felt weirdly jealous that they might have a thing, until Shoko had finally snapped, something about him shooting daggers at her, as close to shouting as he had ever heard her, fucking relax there is nothing between me and Geto beyond a deep mutual understanding of our distaste for you . Rudeass. Also, that was good because Suguru was, like, his platonically. Satoru had felt a deep sense of satisfaction in their room that night, bouncing on Suguru’s bed to annoy him.

Anyway.

Shoko’ll tell Utahime she’s totally off the mark and they can go back to discussing why Satoru feels some type of way about this out of the blue message from Suguru, who he hasn’t heard from since Suguru left school suddenly during their last year, and now he’s suddenly sending messages to Satoru, commenting on a picture Satoru posted, telling him that he looks good. What does that even mean? Good? Like, healthy?

“Does he think I look healthy?” He asks Utahime, who ignores him.

“Shoko, my love.” Utahime says, when Shoko picks up with a murmured hello.

Your love? Shoko queries, I’m in, tell me more.

“It’s pop quiz time, for fun.” Utahime puts a finger over her lips threateningly at Satoru who mimes locking his mouth.

Shoot. Shoko says.

“Okay, in one word, describe Gojo and Geto’s relationship in high school?”

Shoko snorts. Gay. Respectfully for Geto, disrespectfully for Gojo.

“Hey!” Satoru shouts, forgetting his locked mouth. “Why is it disrespectful for me?”

Oh, you’re there. Shoko says and he hears the click of a lighter. Utahime knows why.

He pouts at Utahime.

“Gojo is straight,” Utahime simpers at the phone and they both cackle like, like– like witches.

“Witches!” He shouts at them.

Listen, Shoko says when her quiet laughter has died down, if you’re straight, and there's nothing wrong with being straight, he huffs, we would still respect you just the same.

“Which is to say not at all.” Utahime interjects and he sticks his tongue out at her and then out at the phone when Shoko says mm in agreement.

But Gojo, really?

He blinks at the phone in bewilderment.

Okay, fine, he hears her sigh, let’s do it this way: who is hotter: me or Utahime?

“I wish to stay alive.” He informs her primly.

Okay, who is hotter: me or that woman in your PhD program, the international student, you know, with the–

“Oh, Jane.” He nods. “Jane. Also gross, you’re like my sister.”

Great, so that was an easy one. Okay, who is hotter: Jane or, what was her name, that girl last year, the university cheerleading club captain?

“Oh, um, Sayu?” Utahime says.

Yeah, Sayu, Shoko confirms, as Utahime rolls her eyes at him and pulls up a picture of Sayu to show him. He vaguely recognizes her. They may have gone on a date? A blind group date?

“Purely on being hotter as in physical attractiveness. You can’t say Jane because you know her and she did a lab with you.”

Sayu is cute. Satoru frowns. So is Jane. They’re both attractive people? He’s stumped. He thinks maybe he’s not supposed to be stumped.

This wasn’t supposed to be a stumper. Shoko confirms, in that eerie mind reading way she sometimes does.

“Jane.” He decides, firmly. “She has good bone structure and her eyes are very quick.” He nods. “Plus, I like her hair, it’s dark and not too long but not too short, and falls into her eyes when she’s working.” He looks up, pleased with himself.

Utahime just stares at him.

He imprinted like a baby duck. Shoko snorts.

“So true.” Utahime says, drawing out the vowels.

“What?” He says, feeling like he’s missing something, looking between the phone and Utahime. “Is that not right?” Maybe it wasn’t right.

No good job, Shoko says, derailing his train of thought before it can start properly, Jane or Nanami?

“Oh, Nanami.” He answers instantly.

Utahime gives him an absolutely disgusted look.

Why was that so fast? Shoko sounds like she’s holding back a laugh.

“What! Objectively Nanami is hotter, I have heard–” he feels his ears heat up and hopes he’s not blushing, “–people say things about that man that I don’t feel comfortable repeating, and I feel comfortable repeating pretty much anything!”

“What’s got you blushing like that?” Utahime stares at him, like she’s shocked.

He’s blushing? Shoko says, Damn, snap a pic.

He covers his face and kicks at Utahime, who blocks his legs with practiced ease.

“Objectively!” He shouts again, as she wrestles his feet down to get to his arms so she can take a picture. “As per the rules, purely from an aesthetic and objective standpoint. Jane is pretty too, now I feel like I’ve betrayed her, but also I, a man, am allowed to say another man is hot! Women do it all the time! And besides this is–” he shrieks, “objective! Nanami is hot!”

Fine, objectively, you have the hots for Nanami.

“No,” he says, “no, that’s not what I s–”

Nanami or Geto?

Geto, his mind says instantly.

Even when they were younger he understood, conceptually, that Suguru was good looking; he got why there were girls at school always confessing to him. And– he thinks of the pictures he’d scrolled through for over an hour last night after Suguru messaged him, feeling overheated and strange but unable to stop until he realized he was well over two years deep and got afraid that he was going to like one by accident like a creep. It looked like Suguru had maybe left school to, like, help take care of his nieces? Cousins? Daughters? Twin girls who had shown up in the pictures, him looking like a proud dad between them, and that was, like, conceptually Satoru understood the concept of a MILF and a DILF, but at that moment he felt as though he understood something new abo–

Why is he so quiet? Shoko says.

“He’s like– glazed eyes, mouth open, thinking about Geto, I assume.”

Satoru snaps his mouth shut and his brain off.

“I’m not even dignifying this with a response anymore.” He huffs, “I’m going to talk to my other friends.”

“Literally who?” Utahime says.

What other friends? Shoko says at the same time.

“This is why I’m getting other friends.” He waves a finger threateningly at them. “I’m being threatening.” He tells Shoko, since she can’t see him.

You cried for a week straight after Geto left. Shoko says. We literally had to comfort you outside a KFC.

“God, that was embarrassing.” Utahime sighs.

“We were best friends!” Satoru shouts, “and he just left! He didn’t even— he just left.” He feels the familiar prick of tears sting his eyes.

Is he crying? Shoko asks.

“No.” He sniffs.

“It’s been like nine years, he’s so embarrassing.” Utahime sighs.

“You don’t understand friendship!” He shouts at them both, “Love! Not romantic or platonic but the third and special thing that we shared. The understanding that we had for each other! He was the first person who bothered to get to know me, full offense to you two. We were fated to meet! We were going to be together forever, like, literally, I used to make jokes that we would be together until his hair matched mine in color because all I wanted was– was—” He stutters to a stop and stares at Utahime wide-eyed.

“Gay.” She says forcefully.

“I– wait.” He blinks at his hands. His gay (?) hands? “Is that gay to think?” He asks, “That we were, like, going to grow old together and live together forever and, like, in the morning he would make my tamagoyaki for me because only he does it right….” he trails off.

“You don’t even eat tamagoyaki?” Utahime says to him, face pinched.

“Well, not anymore,” he tells her, “because Suguru was the only one who–”

“I’m so grossed out right now.” Utahime cuts him off, looking disgusted.

“Wait, did I want to marry him? Was that– am I describing marriage?” Satoru thinks something inside his brain has snapped. There’s so many things happening internally. Feelings he had but never understood apparently are suddenly crystal clear and obvious . “I wanted to marry him?” He always thought he would never get married. No matter how sweet the women he dated were, the thought of waking up next to them forever and ever always stressed him out but– “I wanted to marry him.” He breathes, in full retrospective understanding of his confusing teenage feelings. “Oh shit.”

“I’m so grossed out right now.” Utahime repeats.

“I’m gay,” he says, testing it out. “Oh shit, yeah, I’m gay.”

I’m telling Nanami you think he’s hot, gay boy. Shoko says and hangs up.

Okay, so he’s gay. Definitely he’s gay. That does explain, like, a lot actually.

He can roll with that.

satoru [6:52 pm]
if shoko tells u i think ur hot she’s lying

nanami [9:21 pm]
please don’t text me

satoru [9:22 pm]
do u remember geto suguru

nanami [9:27 pm]
i think i will regret replying to this
but yes

satoru [9:28 pm]
gay man to gay man
<img>
he’s hot right

satoru [9:53 pm]
nanami

satoru [10:22 pm]
nanami

satoru [10:53 pm]
nanami

satoru [11:24 pm]
nanami
i think i want to fuck him
or him to fuck me?
gay man to gay man
how do i determine that

nanami [11:25 pm]
please.
please stop texting me.
please.

satoru [11:25 pm]
ur right we can talk tomorrow

nanami [11:26 pm]
no

satoru [11:29 pm]
g’night nanami!!!!!!

shoko [12:07 am]
why is nanami saying he’s suing me for emotional damages

"Hello beautiful people." He says, swinging into their established biweekly Sunday brunch the next morning. He's met with some stoney glares, possibly because he’s like twenty minutes late, but he shrugs those off. Now is not the time. "Announcement,” he says grandly, adjusting his napkin and smiling beatifically around the table, “I wanted you all to know that I am gay. I will be taking questions."

Haibara raises his hand.

“Yes, you in the purple sweater?” Satoru points.

“Congratulations on coming out!” He says, beaming.

“Yuu, you’re so sweet.” Satoru coos, mostly to watch Nanami’s fingers tighten on his coffee mug when he calls Haibara by his given name.

"Wow,” Shoko deadpans, “question here, how did you figure that out?"

"Incredible and superior intellect." Satoru winks at her but she just stares back at him. The silence is broken only by Nanami sipping his coffee. His incredible wit is never met with the response it should be. He sighs at them all. “Okay, well anyway, not to jump into my problems immediately, but assistance is needed— this message from Suguru, what do I say?” He waves his phone at them.

"Wait," Utahime says slowly, "you haven't responded to him?"

“Huh?” Satoru says.

“He sent that to you, what, like Friday night, right?” Utahime seems baffled. “You spent like three hours at my apartment yesterday babbling about it and drafting responses and you didn’t send any of them, not anything?”

“No?” Satoru raises an eyebrow at her. “Duh, that’s why I’m asking now, it needs to be perfe—”

“He can probably tell you read it.” Shoko says.

He stares at her.

“What?” He says.

“Yeah,” Shoko says, “most likely. Doesn’t Instagram always have read receipts on? He probably genuinely thinks you're ignoring him.”

“Phone.” Utahime says, holding her hand out. “Give me.”

Satoru hands it over numbly.

“No?” He says. “Wait, really?”

“How are you so book smart in the weirdest way and yet so strangely technologically and socially impaired?” Shoko stares at him.

“I’m not.” He says weakly.

“Oh my god.” Utahime says, way too loudly. “Satoru, you incompetent– do you check your notifications?”

“What? No, I'm too popular, and sometimes I can’t even get them to come down from the little screen thingy. Or up?” He frowns, waves his hands. “Whatever.”

“Uh,” Utahime says,“okay, maybe start doing it?”

“Huh, why?”

Shoko peers over her shoulder. “Oh shit.” She says and Satoru’s heart sinks. Shoko doesn’t oversell situations, so if it’s a Shoko oh shit then you know that it’s really not good. “Oh little baby gay, I have bad news for you.”

“What,” he scrambles for his phone, “what! Give it here.”

It’s open to Instagram, clearly because of the notifications, and the message from Suguru that says–

Oh no.

First obviously,

you look good, satoru

And then, at 2:33am,

sorry, you must not remember me
we went to high school together
geto suguru?

He makes a sound of distress very high up in his throat.

"Babe." Shoko says, sounding like she thinks this is way funnier than Satoru does, "you're so–"

"Superior intellect.” Utahime scoffs.

"What do I say," Satoru whispers. "Help me, I am asking for help, I never do this. Please. Please help me."

He puts his phone on the table and his head in his hands and stares numbly down at it.

"I hate to cut off the laughter, or be assisting you in any way," Nanami says, raising his voice slightly to be heard over Shoko and Utahime, "but you do realize that you've looked at those messages too now and, if you leave him on read again, it might imply–"

"What do I say!" Satoru yelps. "Why did you leave me? Where have you been? Was I nothing to you but a passing fancy?"

"Why the fuck would you say that." Shoko has tears in her eyes.

"What about ‘hello’?" Nanami offers. "Or maybe even something like ‘yes, I remember you.’"

“It’s been a long time! How are you?” Haibara says cheerfully. “That could work.”

“Sorry, I’m a fucking dumbass?” Utahime says with a simpering smile.

“Quiet, no.” Satoru shushes them all, concentrates, tries to think of something useful to say, thinks about that picture Suguru had posted of himself all sweaty in the gym that Satoru had spent a good fifteen minutes staring at last night, post-gay revelation, genuinely squirming on his bed, and then sends, in what he will later attribute to a fugue state,

yeah i remember u
u left me
i cried at the kfc
btw im gay now

He holds the phone out to his friends for approval.

“Oh,” Haibara says, looking at his screen,“no, that’s– oh, you already sent it. Okay.”

"You literally," Utahime murmurs, slumping back in her chair, "I literally wish I was dead when I am forced to spend time with you."

Nanami presses his thumb and forefinger into the bridge of his nose.

“Should we order food?” Satoru asks shrilly. “Should I send a follow up?”

“I don’t see how that could be improved upon.” Shoko says dryly. “That’s such a normal and good human interaction, Gojo. Congrats, you did it.”

Satoru knows sarcasm when he hears it.

It actually doesn't take Suguru very long to respond. He reads Satoru’s messages nearly immediately, which sends Satoru into a fit. He spends the majority of brunch vibrating at such a frequency that Shoko tells him he needs to see a doctor and he says you are a doctor and she says not yet and he says help me please.

Suguru, after starting and stopping a few times that Satoru notices, finally says,

you cried at the KFC?

“What does that mean?” Satoru waves the phone at them.

“I think he’s asking if you cried at the KFC.” Utahime deadpans.

“You did.” Shoko says, nodding. “Twice.”

“Wasn’t it three times?” Nanami asks, meticulously giving Haibara the blueberries from his breakfast bowl because apparently they’re Haibara’s favorite fruit and he and Nanami are gay and in love and living the life Satoru should be living.

“I don’t know if that counted,” Shoko says, “it was more like….weeping.”

“How do you define the difference?” Nanami asks.

“Why are you typing?” Utahime says.

“Huh?” Satoru asks and turns his phone to face the table at large.

yeah at least twice
currently everyones debating
my emotional trauma is a joke to them

“Wow.” Haibara says, handing the phone over to Shoko. “That’s…. upfront. That’s– good. Probably he’ll, um, appreciate that?”

“He might.” Shoko says, sounding like she believes the exact opposite but is trying to convince herself or possibly Satoru, who knows that his face has fallen. “Geto always did, like, somehow understand him.”

"Are all gay men like this?" Utahime asks Nanami casually.

"No," Nanami sounds grim. "I think this is an exclusively Gojo Satoru thing."

"Yeah, that makes sense." Utahime nods.

Suguru doesn't respond and Satoru starts hyperventilating again.

He makes it through brunch, somehow.

The message comes in later, post-brunch, pre-pilates– which is his newest Shoko-induced obsession, aside from his normal training regimine. Muscles he didn't even know he had ache after pilates. It’s invigorating.

why

“Why!” He sputters.

why what he messages back.

why did you cry at the KFC? Suguru asks, and Satoru, feeling righteous and indignant and like he’s apparently not as memorable to Suguru as Suguru was to Satoru, makes a sound like an offended owl.

oh now who doesn't remember things
broken promise ass

He types as angrily as he can and then throws his phone in his gym locker and stalks off to class. Not his most mature ‘I’m an adult now’ moment but like– he figures he’s allowed.

Because the thing is, Satoru remembers it vividly, in strange detail, golden light and hazy film filter included for free.

It was maybe a month before Suguru left. Satoru had been on the phone with his parents and it had been a particularly nasty conversation. Not that they tended to have super nice conversations, Satoru somehow exceeding all goals set for him and then still, somehow, not quite meeting their expectations, like there was something disappointing about him that no one could put their finger on. A sort of inattentiveness, no one quite looking him in the eye. It just made him feel off. Angry. He had picked a couple fights and then tried to pick one with Suguru, who tended to be the only one who could bite back in the way that satisfied the itch under Satoru's skin, made him feel less untethered and angry and sick.

Only Suguru didn't bite. He just looked at Satoru with calm eyes as Satoru got more and more frustrated, jabbing comments almost but never quite at where he knew Suguru's weak spots were. He wasn't mean, he didn’t want to hurt Suguru, he just needed, desperately, for Suguru to fight back. Suguru didn't. So Satoru shoved him and Suguru grabbed his wrists and stopped the shove and looked at him for so long Satoru started to squirm in his grip.

And then Suguru had snuck them off campus, Satoru's skin alight because Suguru was never the one who suggested they blow off class, break rules. Suguru dragged him all the way to KFC and bought him chicken tenders and pulled out Satoru's Nintendo DS that Satoru didn't even see him grab from the room and just– hung out with him.

Just sat with him and talked about bullshit and listened to Satoru explain his game in what Satoru now realizes was excruciating detail. Suguru had leaned back against the bench he was on and stole Satoru's fries and then made Satoru buy them more food, which Satoru had bitched and moaned about, and then done happily.

And it was wild, because it wasn’t really that much different than what they did in their room half the time, but something about it— about Suguru— made Satoru feel seen. Like he was a real person who could just be. Like, be who he was and not have to be something else.

It was always like that, with Suguru.

Even when Satoru kicked his feet up into Suguru's lap and let them fall to either side of his hips, poking him in the ribs to annoy him because Suguru hated when Satoru got his uniforms dirty, all Suguru did was catch one leg in his hand and rub a slow circle on Satoru's ankle.

"You're my best friend." Satoru had said, suddenly overcome. "Like, ever. Only. You'll never leave me, right?" A question he wasn't sure why he asked, but maybe because he felt like people kept turning their backs on him, walking away. His parents hadn't even turned around to wave goodbye last parent day when they were walking back to their car. Like he didn't exist, as soon as they looked away.

"You're my best friend too." Suguru had said.

"So say ‘no, Satoru, I won’t leave you.’” Satoru had whined. “Say you won’t.” And Suguru, just looking at him, had said–

"Okay. I won’t leave you, unless you tell me to or it’s not my choice.”

“No.” Satoru said, sighing as dramatically as he could. “Ugh, Suguru, pull it together.”

And there had been a quiet and Suguru’s intense eyes and his hair falling out of his messy bun and his fingers warm on Satoru’s ankle and then he had said–

“Ok. I won’t leave you, Satoru."

And then he fucking left, so that was a fucking lie.

When Satoru gets back to his locker, slightly sweaty and exhausted, he has two messages in his newly explained notification screen.

i remember the kfc
i just didnt think you would

yeah well , Satoru types, as he makes his way back home, i cried
shoko and utahime said it was impressive that i got dumped without us even dating
they say hi by the way
nanami says he hopes ur well
haibara too

they remember me?

Satoru stops in his fucking tracks and scoffs at his phone. A lady walking her dog skirts around and then gives him a look and, like, he's sorry, but what the fuck?

what the fuck?
you were smart in high school what happened to you

no I just thought you would all have forgotten me by now
or like

forgotten our best friend?????
my bestest friend, their just regular friend actually
genuinely u were smart as fuck
what happened this is so sad

No answer.

When he wakes up the next morning there's still no answer. Satoru brushes his teeth and picks out his outfit and attends his lecture and there is still no answer. He's mature now, so he gives Suguru the benefit of the doubt that he is just busy, maybe with his daughters (?), or whatever.

Sometime after his TA hours though he starts to get pretty pissed.

wow back in my life just to ghost me again

And Suguru still doesn't fucking answer.

Which probably all adds to his slightly unhinged response when he walks out of the train station that afternoon, glaring down at his phone and then, quite literally, into Suguru.

“Give me your fucking number,” is how he greets Suguru, who is staring at him wide-eyed, “little bitch.”

Satoru fidgets at the table.

"Hi." Suguru says, sliding into the chair opposite him, "sorry, did you wait?"

"No," says Satoru, who got here thirty seven minutes early and is on his second sweetened peach tea, "you're fine. Whatcha drinking?"

"Cold brew."

Satoru eyes it suspiciously.

"You can try it," Suguru says, "but if your taste buds are anything like they were back in school, you'll definitely hate it."

"Real." Satoru says and pulls his own cup closer to him, biting down on the straw and hitting it with his tongue, watching it clink on the sides of the glass. "So," he says, dropping the straw and lifting his eyes up to Suguru, who seems slightly transfixed. "Hello?"

Suguru jolts slightly and then meets his eyes. "So?"

"So, you're back here permanently?" Satoru says. Suguru’s hair is longer than it was in school, it’s half pulled up on top of his head, and Satoru resists the urge to lift up across the table and run his hands through it, mess up his bun.

"Yeah, or for the foreseeable future, at least.” Suguru answers, and Satoru snaps back to attention from where he was watching stray strands of Suguru’s hair brush against his exposed collarbones. “The girls, um, they're my cousins, technically, and they’re– it's why I left school.” He fidgets slightly, tugging at his ear, tucking his long bangs back even though they fall forward again seconds later. “It's a long story, we can– later maybe. Anyway, they got into a really good high school here, and I got a job at an MMA gym through one of my old friends from when I fought," Satoru's brain is making white noise at him, "so I figured I'd move down with them, you know. I really love teaching kids classes and that’s like my whole job here. I also have my teaching license, I was working at a kindergarten back where we were, so maybe next school year? I haven’t really decided everything, but I miss that."

Satoru’s brain is just sort of imagining Suguru holding a sleepy child. He feels like he understands the primal urge to have children in a weird new unattainable way.

"So, you fought people," Satoru says, "and taught kids. That's bold, I like that."

Suguru shrugs. "You're in school, right?"

"Oh," Satoru waves his hands, "um, yeah, PhD program, applied physics, it's– do you have pictures of you, like, fighting? Or like, with kids?”

"I could find some." Suguru says after a second. "To send to you, if you would like."

"Yeah, whatever, could be cool." Satoru takes a huge gulp of tea.

"So," Suguru says after a second, "you're gay now?"

Okay, Suguru is teasing him, that’s pretty obvious, but Satoru has never been one to feel shame or back down or anything so sure– let’s go.

"Yeah, relatively new development. Or maybe an old one, but only recently realized, you know?" He says airly, like he’s so used to talking about being gay with hot men, "I had an epiphany, an awakening, if you will, recently."

"Oh yeah?" Suguru’s smile is a little not quite mocking, but something on the edges of it, that casual teasing tone that used to make Satoru see red. Satoru has missed it.

"Yeah." Satoru says as casually as he can.

“So you’ve never–”

“Had gay sex, no.” Satoru nods.

Suguru stares at him.

“I was going to say dated a man.”

“Oh.” Satoru scrunches his face. “Well no, not that either.”

There is a quiet where Suguru looks at him, head tilted, like he’s trying to figure something out and Satoru doesn’t know what it is and, sure, it’s been like a decade, but he used to be able to pretty much read Suguru’s mind, so he’s kind of pissed off he can’t tell what Suguru is thinking.

“What?” He says.

"Nah,” Suguru says, shaking his head with a smile, “so who was it?”

"Huh?" Satoru says, trying to get his straw into his mouth without touching it.

"Your gay awakening," Suguru is watching him very closely, Satoru dimly notes, "who was it?"

"Uhhhhhh," Satoru drops the straw from beneath his teeth and stares at his gay awakening who surely he cannot tell, cannot just say oh you and have it be normal. He feels frantic, "Um, it was–" he looks wildly around the cafe and comes up blank, think of a man, dammit, he tells himself. "–Nanami." He finishes wildly and coughs, clears his throat. "Nanami."

Fuuuuuuucccckkkkkkk

They stare at each other for a moment.

"Nanami Kento?" Suguru says slowly, brow wrinkling. "From like–"

"Well, you're thinking of high school Nanami, I'm talking like–" Satoru grabs his phone and scrolls to Nanami's private Instagram profile, picks a photo at random where Nanami has a shirt on but, like, might as well not? If Satoru's being honest? He holds the phone out to Suguru who takes it.

Suguru squints down at the picture for a second and then nods, lips pursed.

"Okay, yeah, I can get that." He says, and Satoru is going to be sick.

"You can?" He croaks.

"Yeah, Nanami got hot." Suguru says, and then clicks out of the picture and starts to scroll through Nanami's profile, like he's serious about how hot Nanami is and wants to see more.

Satoru snatches his phone back.

"He's got a boyfriend." He snaps, irrationally angry. He feels like he ate something foul tasting. “So that's the type of guy you're into then, huh?" He mutters, tapping his fingers on the table peevishly. Satoru is in good shape, impeccable shape even, but not the same kind of shape as Nanami, frankly. "You like, like, big muscles and shit?" He frowns at Suguru, who is looking back at him, mouth open, slightly astonished.

"Why do you look so pissed I agreed? You genuinely just said that he's the type of guy you're into."

“Whatever.” Satoru snaps.

"Is he not the type of guy you're into?" Suguru asks after a second, sounding amused.

Not quite, Satoru thinks and squirms because he's dug himself into quite the proverbial hole and he's pretty sure that, somewhere, Utahime and Shoko are laughing at him.

"I don't like blond people." Satoru crosses his arms. "And his muscles are too, you know,” he makes vague hand gestures, “muscle."

"So, he's not the type of guy you're into, he just awakened your repressed desires?" Suguru is definitely laughing at him.

"Whatever." Satoru says, and avoids Suguru's eyes.

"Nanami's not the kind of guy I'm usually into." Suguru says, softening in Satoru’s peripheral, and Satoru snaps his gaze back to him. "Personality-wise as well from what I remember, can't quite see it."

"What kind of guys are you into?" Satoru asks, definitely not desperately.

Suguru looks at him for a second, his glass halfway to his mouth.

"Why do you want to know?" He's got that stupid smirk of a smile back on. When they were younger Satoru had wanted to smack it off his face. He's now realizing maybe smack isn't quite what he wants to do.

"Maybe I know someone," he waves a hand like this whole conversation is beneath him, "unless you're dating someone already, I guess." Oh god, he hadn't considered that. He feels slightly ill.

"I'm not." Suguru says slowly, taking a sip and putting his glass back on the table.

"Me either." Satoru says with a nod and the conversation sort of dies, but not exactly in an uncomfortable way, just in a sort of quiet way, the way Satoru remembers being able to be, with Suguru.

"I think, physically, I'm more into slimmer guys," Suguru starts and Satoru darts eyes to him, but Suguru is looking off and up, not at him, fingers absent-mindedly playing with the thick silver ring he’s wearing. "I don't know, still muscular but, like, guys I can pick up. I like tiny waists and shit. They definitely have to be able to give as good as they get, in any situation.” Satoru feels faint. “And I like them a little, hmm,” he hums softly, “what’s the right word— arrogant?" His eyes drift to Satoru. "Maybe? Or something like that. Because I like when I can make them feel like they don’t have to be like that, act like that. Like when they get soft and sweet and pliant– I like when I'm the only one who can do that, like I get to see this whole new private side of them."

"Oh, that's cool." Satoru says weakly.

"And I like guys," Suguru continues and Satoru definitely shouldn't have asked this if he wanted to survive this reunion coffee, "I don't know how to describe it, but I really when people talk a certain way, kind of low and self-assured and this sort of teasing edge to their voice. And I like them pretty," Suguru hasn't looked away from him yet, "I definitely like them pretty."

"Nice." Satoru squeaks.

"Know anyone like that?" Suguru asks, after a second.

"Nope." Satoru says. "No, I, um, no."

"Shame." Suguru says, and doesn't stop looking at him.

"Did you know," Satoru blurts out, "that you were gay, back then, I mean?"

Suguru looks at him, his gaze now careful, before leaning back in his seat.

"Yes." He says, like he’s not sure the response that is going to get.

"Cool," Satoru nods, "cool, I wish I had known that I was."

"Why?"

"I don't know," Satoru says, honestly not sure, "I don't know, I just do."

"Hmm," Suguru says, "I think it's okay to do things in your own time, Satoru.”

Satoru’s name low and slow out of Suguru’s mouth makes Satoru shiver.

"Yeah," he agrees. "Probably."

satoru [9:52 pm]
ladies

shoko [9:52 pm]
ew

satoru [9:55 pm]
would u describe me as:
arrogant, pretty, able to give and get, self-assured, muscular but kinda slim
and then pretty again

utahime [9:59 pm]
i would never willingly describe u

“So, why did you leave?” Satoru asks probably more abruptly than he should, as he settles into a chair across from where Suguru is sitting. It’s been three days since they had coffee and they had planned to meet for lunch and Satoru probably could have started this conversation off better. “You said you would tell me later.” He figures he’ll just lean in.

“Huh?” Suguru looks up at him from his book, food halfway to his mouth. “Hi?”

Satoru sighs dramatically.

“Hello, Suguru.” He says.

Suguru finishes his bite and grins at him. Satoru waits patiently and does not ask again. He can hold out pretty long, he thinks, without giving in and repeating himself. He’s no stranger to a battle of patience.

Suguru eventually relents. Hah.

“It’s probably not a very long story, actually– just wasn’t sure I wanted to get into it all then.” He sets his book aside. “The girls, Nanako and Mimiko, they’re twins. They’re my cousins. I don’t know where their parents are, they just disappeared when I was seventeen. They’d been in and out before then, but never like that where they really were just gone . Well, I guess we sort of know where they are– or were? We heard from them a few years back. My aunt called to make sure the girls were doing good, like she cares, but whatever, she does that every few years.” Suguru is talking a little monotone, like this part of the story pisses him off more than he wants to let on. “Best mom ever award, you know? Bare minimum and she’s really proud of herself. She doesn’t even know their birthday, I swear.”

“Shitty.” Satoru mumbles, because the word doesn’t really encompass all he wants to say, but it’s the closest he’s got.

Suguru shoots him a small smile.

“Anyway, you met my parents back at school, yeah?”

Satoru nods.

“They’re older. And then, suddenly, they had these two little kids. They couldn’t really— they didn’t know what to do and they were trying, but then my dad got sick and there was no one else to help. I just– I don’t know. I love those girls, I used to babysit them all the time. And I was the only one who could help, really. Like get part time jobs and make money, take care of them, get them to school, cook at home, all that stuff.”

“Why didn’t you say anything to us?” Satoru asks, after a minute, and means to me .

Suguru frowns, fiddles with his piercings. He has more than he had at school. Satoru wants to tug them. Possibly with his teeth.

“Probably there’s not a good reason? I mean, I was a kid, we all were. It didn't feel like something I could put on all of you, tell you about. Plus, everyone at that school— you were rich. All of you were so rich. It felt like no one would get it. I don’t know, money problems were not a concern anyone else had.”

“I would have gotten it.” Satoru feels a little bit insulted.

“Satoru,” Suguru says calmly, “I’m not even saying that it’s true that you wouldn’t have got it, but at the time, like think about it– I was a kid. You were a kid. You– do you remember how I used to hate when you got my uniforms dirty or how mad I got when you pulled the buttons off of one just to piss me off?”

“Yeah.” Satoru says, and winces. Way more angry than Satoru had been expecting, enough that Satoru had actually felt bad instead of proud at getting a rise out of Suguru, had tried to assist in sewing the buttons back on until Suguru had told him please stop, you’re making this worse.

“Right, because I had two uniforms and I had to take care of them. I watched you purposefully set one of yours on fire as a statement about conformity or something, I think you just wanted to set a fire. Then you just got like three more uniforms and you were annoyed because your parents got mad at you, but they got mad at you for causing a scene and not being proper, not because you set a, like, 30,000 yen uniform on fire just because you could.”

Satoru shifts a little. That hadn’t been one of his finer moments.

“When I told you I was on scholarship the first time you said oh that’s weird. Satoru, you got a monthly allowance that was, like, more than I made at my part-time job in a year.”

“Okay,” Satoru says, holding his hands out, “love reminiscing, so fun, I get it.” He pouts. “You’re not making younger me sound great.”

“No, you were.” Suguru says easily. “You were. You just didn’t get it and I didn’t know how to explain it and the things that were happening with my family were so private, it wasn’t even all mine to share with people, you know?”

“I would have helped you.” Satoru sniffs. “I mean, I had money and I would have–”

Suguru suddenly smiles.

“Yeah, probably that was part of it. As much as you pretend to be so cool and aloof, you’re not– weren’t. You were so nice to me, when I least expected it. I knew you would have tried to help and I didn’t want that. That unevenness. I didn’t want your pity. I wanted to be your friend.”

“You were my friend.” Satoru says, stubbornly. “Friends help friends. It’s not pity.”

“Fine,” Suguru says, and he’s smiling a little more now, “next time I find myself suddenly responsible for two young children and unable to make ends meet, I will ask you for money.”

“Good.” Satoru says, with a nod. “You better. Why didn’t you reach out to me though, after?” This one hurts a little more. He fumbles for his chopsticks and starts eating his food.

“I tried to. I mean, it took awhile for things to calm down enough that I even could but– I did try.” Suguru frowns. “Your number was disconnected. And I had your email so I tried it, but you didn’t answer.”

Satoru frowns. “Was it the Digimon email?”

“I…think?” Suguru says. “Yeah.”

“Yeah, I lost the password to that.” Satoru nods. “And my parents switched all our phone plans and got me a new number. So.”

“Well.” Suguru says, as though that explains it. “I found your Instagram awhile ago and I was going to reach out but I kept— I don’t know. I hadn’t heard from you either. You seemed happy and like–” He seems to be not quite sure how to say what he wants to say, absent-mindedly presses his thumb into the center of his forehead in a way Satoru remembers younger Suguru doing too. “Why didn’t you reach out?” Suguru says, after a moment.

“Because you broke up with me!” Satoru says, hitting the table for emphasis. “Platonically. I thought you hated me. I literally thought you hated me. You were just gone after a long weekend. First I thought you would come back and you didn’t. And then I tried to find you, in undergrad, but it’s not like you had social media I could find. It was like just…gone. Poof. And then it hurt too much and I figured that you didn’t want to see me anyway and so if you were happy wherever you were, then that would be enough. I could be sad and missing you all on my own or whatever.” He stabs at his rice a little furiously.

“I missed you too.” Suguru says after a second. “Hey, come on. You crying?”

Satoru looks up at him angrily, but sees that Suguru looks sad too.

“ You're crying.” He says and Suguru grabs his hand, rubs the back of it. “God,” Satoru sniffs, “I used to fucking torture Utahime with that shit, no wonder she hates me. Why do you even remember that?”

“You said it a lot.” Suguru says softly, and then, “I remember a lot of things.”

“About me?” Satoru asks. “Obviously I guess, I’m super memorable.”

Suguru squeezes his hand.

“I’m sorry.” He says.

“No, I’m sorry. And sorry kid-me was a jerk.”

“Only sometimes.” Suguru says with a grin.

“Shut the fuck up.” Satoru says thickly. “Eat your stupid soba.” Satoru doesn’t let go of his hand though, and Suguru doesn’t try to pull away.

So meals together become a regular thing, and Suguru comes to the next brunch and, because he gets there on time, saves the spot next to him for Satoru, arm slung across the back of the chair. He doesn’t remove it when Satoru slides into the chair and it’s a warm, comforting, and very distracting weight until he does, eventually, remove it. Satoru tries not to mourn. He doesn’t have to mourn for very long though because, when Suguru finishes his food, he puts his arm back where it was and Satoru leans into it, smug and elated.

By the next brunch, Satoru is feeling confident enough that he swings into the chair next to Suguru when he arrives and, when Suguru leans forward, talking to Haibara, Satoru puts his arm over the back of Suguru’s chair. When Suguru leans back and notices, he just smiles over at Satoru, so Satoru doesn’t remove his arm, rubs Suguru’s shoulder blade through his t-shirt.

Utahime gives him a disgusted look, but it’s pretty par for the course.

suguru [1:45pm]
you up for sparring?

satoru [1:57 pm]
if ur up for getting ur ass kicked

suguru [2:54 pm]
lol
come help with my 7pm kids class tomorrow?
we can spar after
if ur free, i mean

satoru [3:50 pm]
ill be there
u better hope the kids leave after
ur gonna be so embarrassed by my fighting prowess etc etc

suguru [4:22 pm]
sure, satoru

An itch, under his skin, that he’s missed.

He grins down at his phone and then cancels on Utahime, who simply responds oh good, thanks .

"Hello youths!" Satoru says cheerfully and is met with three stares, ranging from confused to surprised to dead eyed. "Okay, or not, damn."

"Satoru." Suguru says warningly. "Guys, this is my friend Gojo Satoru, he's going to help out in our advanced class today."

"Hi sensei!" The pink-haired one beams at him. Satoru likes him.

"Why?" The girl says, picking at her nails. Wild card, Satoru thinks.

The other boy, little emo guy, just looks at him. Satoru looks back and the kid narrows his eyes.

That's his son now, Satoru decides.

"Itadori Yuji," Suguru says, pointing at pink hair who raises his hand cheerfully, "Kugisaki Nobara”, she smiles tight-lipped but not necessarily unwelcomingly at him, “and Fushiguro Megumi.”

"Hi Itadori, Kugisaki, Megumi!" Satoru says cheerfully.

The third kid blanches.

"Why are we on a first name basis? Why just me?" He looks at the other two kids like they’ll have the answers.

Satoru shrugs.

"Feels like you were my son in another life. I like your emo hair."

"What." The kid hisses and, lowkey, he’s threatening. Satoru holds his hands up placatingly.

"That's so cool, Fushiguro." Pink haired– wait, Itadori– says, turning wide eyes to Fushiguro. “I like your hair too.” Satoru watches Fushiguro’s shoulders imperceptibly stiffen, the tips of his ears turn pink, his fists unclench slightly.

"Ah, young love." Satoru says and Suguru slaps him upside the head.

He doesn't do much in class, really. It’s a small class today, Suguru had told him, because some of the other students were unable to attend. It’s fun. Satoru holds the bags and the punch paddles for the kids to hit. Itadori is the fastest and punches hard as shit, but Fushiguro has the best combinations and Kugisaki kicks like she’s genuinely trying to fuck him up for reasons unknown. He lets Suguru demonstrate some holds on him. He cheers the kids on when they spar, especially against Suguru, and, over the 90 minutes, they gradually warm up to him, except Itadori who had apparently decided from the get-go that he liked Satoru and didn’t need to do any gradual warming up.

After class ends and the kids all say goodbye and troop out the door, Satoru helps clean up and make sure all the stuff is in place. He rocks back and forth on his feet and grins at Suguru from the middle of the mat.

“You ready?” Suguru says, a look in his eyes that Satoru remembers.

And yeah, Satoru absolutely is ready because, when they were younger, Suguru and him were the only ones who could keep up with each other and, sure, Suguru's been doing some sort of MMA lowkey professionally since then, but it's not like Satoru just stopped.

So what if he maybe lets Suguru pin him down for a little longer than necessary a few times. He's allowed, he rationalizes to himself.

Until Suguru notices.

"I would say you're trying to go easy on me, but I think you've actually just gotten soft, Satoru.” Suguru purrs right into Satoru’s ear, when he’s pinned face down on the mat and Suguru is a warm and heavy weight on top of him.

That activates his fight or flight like nothing else.

"Oh, there you are." Suguru says, looking amused as he catches the glint in Satoru’s eyes when he finally lets him up.

Suguru still wins, but he’s panting by the end, sweat dripping in his eyes, and Satoru is irrationally pleased and vaguely horny.

Sparring becomes a regular thing too. It’s glorious.

“It’s glorious.” He tells Shoko again, trying to explain how Suguru looks after a fight.

Shoko rolls her eyes at him, but then nudges him with her elbow and cracks a little grin.

“Shoko, he’s so hot.” Satoru tells her seriously.

“I know, babe. I know.”

Satoru whimpers and puts his head on her shoulder and sits with her while she smokes, making sure to blow the smoke away from him because she knows he doesn’t like the smell. He’s only out here because he wanted to hang out with her anyway. She stubs out the cigarette soon after and doesn’t light another one. She might for real be trying to quit this time, he thinks.

“It’s not just because he’s hot.” He tells her miserably and she pats his knee.

“I know that too.” She says.

It’s really not just that. That would be easier. Yes, Suguru is hot– but also Suguru is still just as sweet or– indulgent?– with Satoru as he was in high school. He’s just as funny, just as able to roll with the punches and meet Satoru where he is, just as able to satisfy the itch under Satoru’s skin. He’s calmer now, more mature, and the way his face crinkles when he talks to Nanako and Mimiko on the phone, or talks about them to Satoru, makes Satoru’s heart do really funny things in his chest. And Suguru still listens to him, no matter what Satoru is talking about, no matter how long the infodump is, Suguru just listens and watches him carefully, with those calm calm eyes, deep and placid as a lake.

“I want to drown in his eyes.” He tells Shoko who only snorts in response. “He is so fucking hot.”

He doesn’t have to look to see Shoko roll her eyes.

Suguru is particularly attractive when he’s fighting, or right after a fight, or during, or the general vicinity of it. Even the way his eyes sharpen as he watches the kids practice motions or his adult class spar– the intensity of his eyes is overwhelming and Satoru wants them on him always.

Satoru’s like. Really weak for him.

Which is why, when they’re sparring the next week, and Suguru knocks Satoru’s leg out from under him, back of the knee kick, and Satoru goes down, and one of Suguru's hands catches in his hair and tilts it back to bare his throat, Satoru is a only a little surprised at the sound that comes out of him.

Suguru immediately loosens his grip, catches Satoru behind the neck.

“You okay?” He says, brow creasing.

Satoru briefly thanks a god he doesn’t believe in that the noise he made sounded like a sound of pain. Actually, you know what, it was a sound of pain, he decides, and refuses to examine anything else about this interaction, including how warm and solid Suguru’s sweaty hand feels spread on the back of his neck, thumb stroking his undercut slowly.

“Yep.” He croaks, and gives Suguru two thumbs up. “Let’s go again.”

Later, rinsed off and back in casual clothes, he and Suguru step out onto the street. Satoru hates that now the night is over and they will go their separate ways. Like, it’s normal and all for this to be the end of the night, just Satoru sometimes wishes it wasn’t. When they grab food together too, and he gets to talk to Suguru for a few hours, he wishes that he could talk to him for a few more. That their meetings didn’t end with partings, or at least not so soon.

An itch, under his skin.

After sparring Satoru usually goes home to take a longer shower and mope around a bit. Maybe do work if he gets, like, really into it or has some sort of residual frenetic energy. He doesn’t feel like tonight is going to be a good and productive night though, definitely more a ‘staring blankly at the ceiling for a bit’ type of night.

"The girls are at a friend's." Suguru says suddenly and Satoru tries to not whip his head around to stare at him. Suguru is sort of squinting off into the middle distance and not really looking at him, hands in his pockets. "If you wanted to come over for a little and have, like, a beer or something?" He lifts his hand up and scratches at the back of his head as he says this. His hair is all pulled up and a few wisps of it lift in the breeze.

"I love beer." Satoru says. He hates beer. "Yeah, that could be fun, let’s go."

The beer is making him dizzy, which is– not surprising.

"Satoru?" Suguru says, from somewhere both very close and maybe far away. Satoru has his eyes pinched shut tight at the moment so he’s not really sure.

"Um," Satoru says, “sorry, I’m–” he pauses and squeezes his eyes tighter. The couch shifts under him and then he feels the half empty beer can being removed from his hand.

"Hey," something soft touching his face, tucking his hair behind his ear, "hold on." A tiny period of time passes where no one is touching him and he is unmoored, and then a cold glass is pressed into his hand and Satoru opens his eyes to see Suguru, very close, watching him. "You okay?"

"I can't actually drink." Satoru says, tongue heavy in his mouth. "And I hate beer, like, so much. So so much."

"You know, I was kinda wondering." Suguru nudges the water toward Satoru’s face and Satoru gulps at it, slowing only when Suguru touches his wrist, pulls it away. "Don't make yourself sick, ‘toru." Suguru puts the glass on the table and leans back on the couch, smiles at him, all warm and inviting and Suguru . "Even at school you couldn't–" Suguru cuts himself off when Satoru buries his face into Suguru's neck, nuzzling in until he's comfortable.

"I hate drinking." Satoru emphasizes hotly into Suguru’s skin. "You smell like bergamot, it's really nice."

Suguru slowly softens around him, arm coming down to hold him close, and huffs a laugh out through his nose, pets Satoru's hair. Suguru’s hands feel super nice. Satoru’s thoughts are sticky like syrup.

"Thanks." Suguru says softly. "You sure you're okay?"

Satoru nods a few times.

"Usually goes away pretty quick." He mutters. “Just need a second.”

"Lightweight." Suguru scoffs at him, but there's no heat behind the word and his arm is too tight around Satoru for it to be mean.

“So true.” Satoru mumbles, because he is. “I wish it had been anything but beer, honestly.”

There’s a little pause where Suguru just draws gentle lines up and down his back.

"Why did you say you would come have a beer then?" He asks, after a moment.

Satoru pulls back so he can stare into Suguru's eyes.

"Because I wanted– if I said no, that meant the night was over. And I didn’t want it to be, didn’t want to go home." He frowns. “We’re always just saying goodbye and going home, s’ pissing me off.”

Suguru stares at him and then laughs, surprised maybe.

“Next time, we'll do something that’s not drinking, Satoru. I wanted to hang out with you more, it just felt like the easiest ask. In my defense, I didn’t realize you couldn’t drink."

“I can drink.” Satoru sniffs.

“My mistake,” Suguru says, “I just wanted to hang out.”

Satoru nods, satisfied with this answer because he wanted to hang out too so that works great, and then falls back against Suguru's chest, wriggling a little so that he is the right height to press his ear over Suguru’s heart. He closes his eyes and lets Suguru scratch his head for a little bit, feeling sort of weightless.

"How did you know if you were a top or a bottom?" He asks.

"Jesus–" Suguru coughs, choking on probably the sip of beer he just took, and it jostles Satoru who frowns, smacks at Suguru’s chest until he settles. "Yeah, let's discuss that a different time. It's not a conversation I'm having with someone who’s drunk."

"But you’re not drunk." Satoru says peevishly.

"Satoru." Suguru says. "No.”

"Fair," Satoru says after a moment, "wise old man."

"Younger than you."

“Barely.” Satoru gripes.

“Mmm.” Suguru says and just– sits with him.

It's calming. Suguru pets his hair and rubs his back, changes the music to something that makes Satoru feel really calm, talks to him softly. The room stops spinning and Satoru starts to feel like his brain is significantly less in rest mode and more online again.

"How’re you doing?" Suguru asks, when Satoru sits up. He's finished his beer and Satoru's, but hasn't opened the other one that sits, sweating, on the coffee table.

"Show off." Satoru pouts, reaching for his water glass to take another sip.

"Yeah, one and a half beers. Someone stop me, I'm wild." Suguru deadpans.

Satoru pushes him and scans the apartment again, a little more slowly than he did when they first came in because he had been gently humming with nervous energy then. It's quiet and homey. Small, but well-lived, despite the fact that he knows Suguru and the girls only moved in three or so months ago. Suguru is good at things like that, Satoru thinks, making homes out of places, for people.

Suguru watches him look around and then taps him on the knee.

"Want to play MarioKart?"

Three hours and multiple sabotages later, Satoru finally admits that he should go home.

"Sorry," he says, as he stuffs his feet into his shoes.

"Hmm?" Suguru steadies him with a hand. "I had a good time, you suck at that game."

Satoru sticks his tongue out at the obvious lie since he won 90% of the races, and watches Suguru's eyes flick to his mouth, then back to his eyes.

"No, you suck.” Satoru taunts and then sighs. “But also, I meant sorry for being annoying and being pushy and asking weird things. I just..." He flounders slightly because he's not sure why he asked, except because he had wanted to know and his brain to mouth filter wasn't there but. Still.

"It's okay." Suguru says. "Probably not the first gay guy to wonder how to know that."

Satoru shrugs in answer and there's a weird sort of pause before Suguru continues.

"Maybe you’ll like both."

"Maybe so." Satoru nods. "Won't know until I try, I guess."

"Yeah." Suguru says and then looks around a little bit like he’s trying to find something before saying, all at once, "Lots of people like both, I think, but they feel like they have to choose once and then just be that. So, they get, like, boxed in, you know, by themselves and their expectations or society’s idea of manliness or what it means to be dominant or they confuse dominance with topping or, I don’t know. Get trapped by how they’re defining themselves. Don't put pressure on yourself to know everything right away or ever, honestly, just– find out what feels good." He finishes finally. “With someone you trust. And protection.”

Satoru snorts. "Thanks, Dad." And then immediately, because he feels bad and that was actually a really nice and good thing to have said, on all counts, "No, thank you. Seriously, that's true. I guess I just kinda thought– I don't know, it seems like people just know."

Suguru shrugs a little, like he's trying to make some sort of decision, eyes distant.

“I didn’t just know.” He says finally and he’s still not looking at Satoru.

"You're way more helpful than Shoko." Satoru says, desperate for Suguru's eyes to be back on him, and it works because they snap to his face.

"What did Shoko say?" Suguru asks after a second.

"Uh," Satoru pulls out his phone, so he can quote verbatim, "'just stick a finger up your ass and see if you like it, leave me the fuck alone im trying to study, if you like your finger make sure whatever you use next has a flared base.'" He squints, "I guess that last part is good advice, right? I don't have...anything like that though. Like I'd have to order it." He looks up at Suguru.

"Um." Suguru says and weirdly his voice cracks. He clears his throat a couple times.

"You good?" Satoru asks.

"Yep." Suguru rasps and then blinks, before he focuses really really intently on Satoru. "Next time you," he gestures vaguely to Satoru's waist region, "are doing that just imagine– um, Nanami–"

"Please never say that." Satoru cuts him off. "Oh god. I have to confess something. I lied to you. Nanami is not who I had my gay awakening about, full respect to the man, he's hot, but just– I lied."

"I thought maybe." Suguru says with a little laugh.

"Oh." Satoru blinks. “Really?”

“You seemed,” Suguru pauses, “I guess not fully sold on your own story.”

“That sounds like you’re being diplomatic.” Satoru squints at him.

“Maybe,” Suguru says with a small smile, tucking a stray hair behind his ear, “you’re not great at lying, Satoru.”

“Whatever.” Satoru says, waving this off. He’s sure he’s great at lying. “You’re right though it was– someone else.”

“Someone else.” Suguru repeats slowly.

“Yep.” Satoru says and pops the p and elects to offer no other information.

"Okay, then,” Suguru’s smile is back, “next time imagine this ‘someone else’, whoever that person is,” his eyes seem like they can see all the way to Satoru’s treacherous heart and Satoru squirms in Suguru's doorway, "touching you. And the ways you would want them to. See if your brain goes one way or the other. Think about other things like if, when you kiss, you initiate or not, if you want someone to tell you want to do or you like to be in control, little patterns like that, imagine how you want them to talk to you, imagine how you want to talk to them. See what feels good. You're allowed to change your mind, especially in a fantasy, but also– always."

"Right." Satoru squeaks and clears his throat, blinking rapidly.

Suguru shifts.

“I mean that kinda helped me when–”

“No, yeah,” Satoru nods furiously, “yeah, I'll....do that."

"Okay." Suguru says.

"Okay." Satoru repeats.

"It's okay not to know." Suguru says again. “Or to like both or neither, even. Some people don’t like penetrative sex.”

"Right." Satoru says. “Cool, thank you. I will, um, yeah. I'll report back. Or not. Obviously. You've dealt with enough of my stuff so. I’ll keep it to myself. Okay. Have a good night.”

He's pretty sure Suguru says goodnight back and also something else. He’s pretty sure he waves and shoots some casual finger guns before the elevator doors close, but he's moving on autopilot and his brain is just repeating over and over imagine that person touching you and he's going to spontaneously combust, actually.

He does what Suguru says, when he gets home. And, because it’s Suguru, he does it exactly how Suguru said, even though maybe he should have some qualms about that. He is, like, immediately jerking off to the thought of Suguru within less than an hour of seeing him. And Suguru told him to imagine that person without knowing that Suguru himself was the person in question, but whatever. Satoru is committed to the plan.

He doesn’t get very far in his fantasy though because, after he shucks his jeans off, he palms himself and imagines Suguru touching him and kissing him, which makes him shiver so hard he knocks his head on the headboard. The next thing his brain flashes to is Suguru without his shirt on, which makes him whimper louder than is probably necessary and bite down on his free hand, arching up into the other. And then his mind goes to how it felt to look up at Suguru, through his eyelashes, on his knees, with Suguru pulling on his hair and gets stuck there, replaying it over and over.

He sticks his hand under his waistband mindlessly and thinks about Suguru’s mouth and his pecs and his cocky smile and the way his hair looks when he’s been sweating and Suguru, above him, hand in Satoru’s hair.

Mind-Suguru brushes mind-Satoru’s hair back gently and then threads his hand through again and tugs, just a little, and then a little more, tilting his face up, finger under his chin, says you look so pretty like this and slides two fingers into mind-Satoru’s open mouth and Satoru comes hard and way too quick, like he’s a teenager with a hair trigger again.

“Fuck.” He says weakly, trying to catch his breath as his muscles unclench, heartbeat racing.

He grabs for some tissues without looking and tries to think of what he has learned from this thought experiment.

Gay. Yes, check.

Suguru hot. Yeah, check.

Not new information but information, sure.

The hair pulling though– until tonight, he actually wouldn’t have guessed that. Or the being on his knees like that thing. Which makes him think about the hair pulling and the being on his knees and Suguru above him all over again and he full body twitches, a weak little ah escaping his mouth.

Okay, new information.

He can roll with that.

"I might be depraved." He announces, throwing himself into Utahime's apartment the next day, "Oh thank god, Shoko you’re here too, I thought maybe."

Utahime groans very loud and long from the kitchen, before returning with two bottles of tea, jasmine for her and barley for Shoko, and a cola, which she hands to him with a frown.

Other than that though, neither of them respond to or acknowledge him.

"Hello?" He says. “I’m depraved?”

"Goddamit," Shoko puts down her pen, "I need a break. Fine, I'll bite."

"No, don't." Utahime says sadly, settling onto the floor near her and leaning back against the couch, putting her feet into Shoko’s lap.

“Oh nice, did y’all figure out your four year long situationship?” Satoru asks, “Tell me more.”

“Never mind, bite.” Utahime says to Shoko.

"Why are you depraved, Gojo?" Shoko smiles patiently at him. Patient on her is a scary look but he perseveres.

"Suguru pulled my hair and I liked it." He hisses, pauses for a sip of soda while they digest that information. "And I got off thinking about it."

"Ew." Shoko says, wrinkling her nose. "Just the thought of you masturbating, not anything else. Hair pulling? That's not even that kinky."

"It's really not." Utahime looks at him like he’s the most confusing creature she’s ever seen. She might think that actually, it’s on brand. "It's like a zero on the depravity scale."

"Really?" He says, perking up. “Even if–”

"One word answer time," Utahime says and he nods, mimes zipping his lips.

"Have you really never pulled anyone's hair during sex? Or never had someone pull your hair?"

He frowns and considers briefly. “Well," he says slowly, “that’s happened but–"

"One word!" Utahime says.

"No, let him attempt to answer." Shoko says. "I think it's gonna be funny."

He glares at her.

"Yes,” he says finally, because he actually would like to know more information, “like, gently or like accidentally even, or like, you know, sort of," he gesticulates and they both stare at him, "if she's like here," he gestures at his waist and mimes a blowjob to rolled eyes, "and I'm like ‘okay that's enough because I’m–’."

"Please stop." Utahime says as Shoko cackles.

"This was hard hair pulling," Satoru explains, "like hard. "

Shoko shrugs.

"Huh." He says. "Really, pretty normal?"

"Relatively standard." Shoko shrugs again. "What kind of sex do you normally have that you thought this made you like, genuinely depraved?"

"Answer internally." Utahime cautions him.

He thinks about it. Pretty normal sex, he thinks. Like. Not that he's had a ton a ton of it but yeah, he likes sex, thinks it’s enjoyable. He always makes sure to eat the girl out or finger her first so that she comes before anything else, likes going at it from behind, likes pinning people’s wrists down, has thought that he would really like it if someone did that to him, one girl did once, only briefly, but he came so hard it surprised him. He’s not entirely tame, surely.

"Reverse cowgirl?" He asks, "Is that kinky?"

"I pray I lose all of my senses but mostly my hearing." Utahime sighs, pressing the bottle of tea to her forehead.

"No." Shoko says.

"Huh." He says. "So, I'm not depraved?"

"Why? Just because you want Geto to pull your hair and spit in your mouth and call you his little cumslut? No." Shoko says.

"Woah." Satoru says, hands up defensively in front of him. “Wow. Woah. I do not remember saying all of that.” He pauses. “However–"

"Right," Utahime says loudly, cutting him off, "well, continue to explore that privately."

"I bet you could even tell Geto," Shoko says with a snicker, as Utahime shoots her a disapproving look, "that you want him to pull your hair and call you baby, I bet he would like it."

"Huh." Satoru says and melts into Utahime's couch as he sips his soda. “Baby.”

“Or cumslut.” Shoko says, pointing her pen at him.

She has a point.

Something like two weeks later Satoru’s hanging off Suguru’s couch, like he’s taken to doing whenever he can– he’s been getting more and more texts from Suguru asking if he’s free, can Satoru come over, can Suguru come to his, should they grab lunch because Suguru found a restaurant that only serves catfish kabayaki and does Satoru want to try it, and so on and so forth. It makes him feel happy and something like antsy every time his phone dings and it’s Suguru.

Suguru’s phone buzzes on the low table in front of him and Suguru, from where he’s standing in the kitchen pouring them tea, shuffles over, puts the glasses down, and looks at it.

“Hey.” he says after a second and Satoru cracks an eye open and then both eyes, resituating himself a little.

“Hello.” He responds when a moment has passed, because Suguru hasn’t said anything else at all.

“Um, Nanako and Mimiko are headed home,” Suguru says, eyes sort of drifting.

Satoru hasn’t actually met them yet. Between school and cram school and their clubs and some sort of rotating cast of friends, they’re not home a ton and then, half the time, he and Suguru are at the gym or somewhere out, or Suguru comes over to Satoru’s apartment. Satoru prefers Suguru’s place actually, it feels more lived in and comforting. Satoru tries but can never stop slightly replicating the space he grew up in, just on the edge of sterile, just on the edge of cold. It’s better, when someone else is there, when Suguru is there, but he prefers being elsewhere.

“Oh, I can go.” Satoru says, irrationally hurt and also determined not to let Suguru know that. “Cool, you guys having dinner?” He starts heading toward the door, patting his pockets for his wallet and phone.

“You– can stay.” Suguru says, a bit jerkily. “I was– I was going to ask if you wanted to stay? I’m making dinner, yeah. It’s nothing special but, I mean. They know, like, who you are conceptually, it could be cool if you met them. If you wanted to do that, obviously.”

They stare at each other and Satoru vaguely thinks that Suguru looks like a deer in the headlights. Satoru might be making the same face though.

“I want you to.” Suguru says.

Satoru puts his shoe back down and steps up from the genkan, kicks the other one off.

“Really?” He says, and tries not to let his overwhelming happiness show, but given the way Suguru’s face instantly softens, he’s pretty sure it does.

“Yeah,” Suguru says. “I would like that.”

Nanako and Mimiko stare at him with weirdly intent eyes and Satoru feels like he’s being judged, but he’s not sure for what or why. Are teenage girls always this scary?

“Your eyes,” Nanako says finally, “are, like, really blue.”

“Oh thanks,” he says, “it’s– it’s a hereditary condition.”

She squints at him in an oddly Suguru sort of way, which is comforting, the little mannerism of confusion mimicked.

‘You’re welcome?” She says like it’s a question or possibly an insult.

Suguru is in the kitchen, chopping ingredients for curry, and Satoru desperately thinks he should go help him.

“So, how was school?” He asks the girls. “Did you, um, make friends?”

“School,” Mimiko says, very slowly and softly, “was fine. We have friends.”

“From clubs.” Nanako says. “And homeroom.”

“Right.” Satoru nods and looks aimlessly around. “That’s good, I’m glad you both like school.”

“How was your day?” Nanako asks suddenly.

“Oh–” He flounders when the question is turned back on him, and hears Suguru snort in the kitchen, “shut it,” he shouts at him, before turning back to the girls, “yeah, it was good. I mostly like hung out with Suguru after my work at the university. I made him play Yokai Watch with me.”

“He’s bad at games.” Suguru says, probably to purposefully piss Satoru off.

“I’m literally not.” Satoru tosses back. “You’re jealous of my talent.”

“I’ve never been jealous of you a day in my life.” Suguru retorts.

“I’ve never been jealous of you a day in my life.” Satoru mimics back to him. “Respect your elders.”

“You're, like, two months older.” Suguru sounds pained.

“I like you.” Mimiko says suddenly, and Satoru snaps his attention back to the girls.

Nanako nods, like he’s done something good by getting into an argument with Suguru.

“Oh, um, thank you?” He tries.

“Yeah, I get it.” Nanako nods and slumps back on the couch, pulling out her phone. “Big bro’s always been, like, sorta weird. This tracks.”

“Mm,” Mimiko says with a nod, looking between Suguru’s back and Satoru’s face like she knows something he doesn’t, “I’m optimistic.”

“Okay.” Satoru says slowly. “Well, I’m going to go help Suguru in the kitchen now.”

“Are teenagers always that scary.” He hisses in Suguru’s ear, after being put in charge of stirring the onions in the pan and making sure they don’t catch on fire, although Suguru keeps glancing over at him like he thinks Satoru is going to let the onions catch on fire. “I’m better at cooking than I was at school.” He mutters, kicking at Suguru’s ankle softly, “I’ve survived this long.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Suguru says and puts his hand on Satoru’s waist as he moves behind him to grab something.

Satoru’s less worried about the onions catching on fire and more worried that he might honestly, given the way his body lights up at the touch.

It’s late, by the time they finish dinner and clean up and Nanako whines about homework while Mimiko kicks her feet out of the way to vacuum. Satoru should maybe leave, they’re settling into a night routine that he is not part of, but he doesn’t want to. Suguru’s sitting next to him on the couch, arm around his shoulders, telling the girls they can’t have ice cream until after their baths, and the water is ready so go take a bath already, and Satoru’s just like really comfortable. He feels, for the first time in a long time, that the house he is in is a home. He wants to stay here, real small, and just bask in it.

He listens to the chatter and the hair dryer and the general bustle.

The Monday 9pm drama has long since ended and the TV announcer is talking in a measured voice, relaying the news.

“You spending the night?” Suguru asks, shifting a little, squeezing Satoru’s shoulder. Satoru tries to look up at him but can’t get a good angle.

He’s spent the night a few times, on the couch, when the girls were on a school trip. Suguru’s spent the night at his a few times. He, Nanako, and Mimiko seem to have a balance in the flow of their household, and he’s heard, on the phone, Nanako tell Suguru you’re good, mimiko’s already making dinner and we went to get half priced sale at the grocery for sides, see you later big bro. Suguru had sort of shrugged, when he hung up, now that they’re older I think they understand how young I was and feel bad I didn’t really get to be a kid but– I don’t regret it.

“I could spend the night.” Satoru says slowly, like his brain didn’t just start chanting yes please . “Won’t I be in the way though, like when they get up for school and stuff?”

Suguru sort of stares straight ahead at the television for a little bit and then says–

“I– my bed is big– I mean, if you–”

“Oh,” Satoru says, startled, can feel himself flushing, “I mean yeah, if there’s– I could–”

“Like, if you’re not comfortable, I just meant–”

“No, no, that– makes sense. That works. So I’m not,” he gestures, widely.

“Right,” Suguru says and Satoru is gratified to see the slightest flush creeping across his face, “just like so you’re not in the way out here in the morning.”

“Yeah.” Satoru says. “Right, good, yeah.”

“Gross.” Nanako snickers from behind them, jumping over the back of the couch with ramune popsicles in hand for her and her sister.

“Nanako.” Suguru says firmly.

“What,” she draws out the vowels, “sorry for existing, Dad. ”

“Nanako.” Suguru repeats.

“What’s going on?” Mimiko comes out of the room with a Nintendo Switch in her hands and settles by the tea table, resting her chin on a fluffy stuffed rabbit that Nanako kicks at her, and then reaching for her popsicle.

“Satoru-chan is spending the night.” Nanako says, grabbing the TV remote after she’s handed off the popsicle.

“Aw,” Mimiko says. “Cute.”

“ Girls. ” Suguru says, sounding pained, “ please. ”

They turn innocent faces to him.

“Bath is free.” Mimiko says after a moment and then, staring at Satoru with wide eyes, “the bergamot soap that he always uses is in the sort of dark brown semi-translucent container, if you’re interested.”

“Thanks?” Satoru says, after a second. “That’s um….okay. Thank you.”

She nods.

The clothes Suguru gives him to sleep in are soft and well-worn and smell slightly like Suguru, the detergent he must use that lingers on him. Satoru’s skin smells like Suguru, bergamot, and his hair smells like Suguru’s, floral and gentle. He waits, on Suguru’s bed, still warm from the bath, staring at his hands and absently twisting them into repeated shapes. He looks up when the door is opened and can’t stop the way his heart sort of lurches in his chest, the smile that crosses his face, at Suguru in the doorway. He looks so soft, fresh out of the shower, his hair all loose and still slightly damp, oversized t-shirt falling down exposing his collarbones.

Satoru wants to bite him.

Suguru stays in the doorway for a touch too long, looking at Satoru sitting on his bed cross-legged, that deer in the headlights look again that Satoru doesn’t get, and Satoru starts to feel a little worried. Maybe he is overstepping and should have just left and gone back to his cold apartment and not been so weird .

Suguru clears his throat and comes back to himself and the moment passes.

“Hey,” Suguru says, “all good? You need anything?” He closes the door softly behind him and his face is very open and Satoru is absolutely sure that Suguru did actually want him to spend the night.

“I’m good.” Satoru flops back on the bed so he doesn’t have to look at Suguru looking all domestic and sleepy and feel his whole heart thud erratically inside his chest. His heart still feels like it’s beating strangely though, even when he can’t see Suguru. He closes his eyes for good measure. “The girls are funny.”

“They’re demons.” Suguru says with a laugh as he moves into the room, Satoru following him by sound. “My little demons. I love them.”

The lights dim and Satoru does open his eyes then, turns his head to find Suguru, smiles at him.

“It’s nice,” Satoru says dreamily, feeling warm from the bath and the evening and the proximity, “having a family.” He returns his gaze to the ceiling and blinks twice, fast. “Maybe I’ll get to have a family someday.”

He hears more than sees Suguru cross the room in quick steps. He falls onto the bed, head landing on Satoru’s chest. Satoru reaches down, plays with a strand of Suguru’s hair like he’s been wanting to do, twists it around his fingers.

“So much longer than it was in school.” He says, and at Suguru’s hum of acknowledgement adds, “I like it.”

There is a long and gentle silence.

“What would your family be like?” Suguru asks, his mouth moving somewhere near Satoru’s heart. He shifts, lying more on the bed, and his nose pokes into Satoru’s collarbones, then the side of his neck.

Satoru pets through Suguru’s hair and feels everywhere their bodies are touching, bath-warmed, and Suguru’s mouth almost, but not quite, on his skin and stares hard at the ceiling.

“Like this one.” He says finally. “Full of love.”

Suguru squeezes him, so tight it almost hurts, but doesn’t say anything in response. That’s okay though, Satoru is tired and worried he’s going to cry and he just wants– this. For as long as he’s allowed to have it.

Satoru doesn’t really remember falling asleep, remembers Suguru nudging him over and pulling the blanket out and up over them. He remembers turning toward Suguru, pressing in. He remembers Suguru’s hand soft, on his forehead, brushing his hair back.

He wakes up to the gentle sound of clatter in the kitchen.

“Morning,” he mumbles, rubbing his eyes as he wanders toward the noise. “Girls are gone?”

“Morning.” Suguru responds. “Yeah, they had to be in early, did you sleep okay?”

He’s saying something else too, but Satoru is staring at the low table set for breakfast, onigiri and tamagoyaki, hijiki salad, tea still steaming– a spot for him and one for Suguru. He feels his eyes filling with tears and blinks rapidly.

“Satoru?” Suguru says, a little loud, like maybe he has called Satoru’s name once already. “Hey, you okay?” He’s looking at Satoru questioningly. He walks over to the table and puts down the miso soup bowl he’s holding, touches Satoru’s elbow. “You don’t have to eat, if you’re not hungry.”

“I’m hungry.” Satoru whispers, rubbing his eyes again and pinning a smile to his face. He puts his forehead on Suguru’s shoulder and there’s that tiny pause again before Suguru melts toward him. “Just a little sleepy.” He says, as Suguru rubs his back.

“Okay.” Suguru responds, and holds him for a moment.

Suguru’s food tastes like home.

For the first time in a decade, Satoru really and truly feels something inside him relax, low in his belly, a pain he didn’t know was there until it was gone.

satoru [5:52 pm]
suck it losers

utahime [6:00 pm]
even without knowing why you’re saying that
i can guarantee i dont care
r u coming this weekend we’re going to that new bar
i checked, they have mocktails

satoru [6:02 pm]
suguru introduced me to his DAUGHTERS
bet u losers dont know his daughters
also nah sorry, suguru and i have plans
hes coming over
u crying?

utahime [6:07 pm]
oh good, im so glad were doing that again
that was my favorite part of high school

satoru [6:14 pm]
(ﾉ∀`♥)

shoko [6:23 pm]
ooooooo
is he gonna pull ur hair

satoru [6:24 pm]
wouldn’t u like to know

shoko [6:27 pm]
no!

utahime [6:28 pm]
every day i hope to never know anything about you

nanami [6:31 pm]
i genuinely would not like to know

haibara [6:34 pm]
good luck on your date (?)!!!
(((o(*°▽°*)o)))

satoru [6:40 pm]
awwww, it’s not a date just a casual friendship hang
but u know what
thank u yuu
ur my only friend
love u!!!!

There’s no hair pulling, obviously.

But Satoru can’t stop thinking about it. And now, alarmingly, he also can’t stop thinking about Suguru in pajamas, or Suguru making him breakfast in the morning, or Suguru fast asleep, holding his waist, or Suguru–

“I want to marry him.” He whines.

“I wish I had never helped you realize you were gay.” Utahime says, but she tosses a bag of peach gummies at him so he doesn’t really believe her.

“Hnnnngh.” He says, chewing furiously at one.

He sleeps over at Suguru’s place with alarming regularity now, folded into the bustle and quiet of their house easily. Which is ridiculous, he’s aware, but it’s also just so good he can’t make himself stop agreeing whenever Suguru asks. Honestly, he’s inserting himself probably, bringing over an extravagant amount of sashimi to celebrate the girls doing well on a test, stopping for groceries if Suguru says he needs something, taking them all to the new okonomiyaki place that opened up nearby and then going home with them too, often just showing up and finding himself welcomed, regardless.

“I really don’t get it.” Shoko says lazily. “Just feel like no one has to be going through this situation.”

“My life is really hard,” he starts, “thank you for unders–”

“No,” Shoko says, “no, I mean like you yourself literally do not have to be going through this.”

Satoru stuffs another gummy in his mouth. What does she know, anyway.

"Do you like when people pull your hair?" Satoru asks, because after some whining and wheedling, Suguru had undone his bun and let Satoru play with his hair and also because, apparently, Satoru’s brain to mouth filter is permanently damaged with proximity to Suguru and the way he fucking smells so sweet and good that Satoru wants to bite him like an animal.

"What?" Suguru says, turning to look at him, his hair falling out of Satoru's hands. He seems genuinely confused.

"Like in bed." Satoru clarifies. "Is that the kind of thing you like....in bed." He loses steam toward the end and starts picking at a hangnail, staring at his hands as his voice gets quieter. "Shoko said I should ask you." Satoru adds weakly after a moment of quiet, afraid to look up.

"Shoko said you should ask me what I like in bed." Suguru repeats without any inflection in his voice.

Satoru sneaks a look and Suguru is staring straight ahead like he wants to be anywhere but here.

"Sorry." Satoru says. "God, I'm so weird."

"You're not. It's fine." Suguru scrubs a hand over his face. "Doubt the Shoko part a little though."

"She used slightly different wording." Satoru finally settles on.

"Yeah, I'm not going to ask what she said." Suguru says, as Satoru has a vivid flashback to Shoko saying you want geto to pull your hair and spit in your mouth and call you his little c– "Hey, no, don't tell me anyway, shush."

Satoru nods wide-eyed behind Suguru's hand pressed against his mouth. He wants to lick it. Suguru stares at him for a little bit and doesn't move his hand and Satoru draws a shaky breath in through his nose.

"Do you like it when people pull your hair?" Suguru asks finally, removing his hand so that Satoru can speak.

Satoru squirms.

"Don't ask questions you wouldn't answer yourself." Suguru says seriously and starts to turn away.

"Yes." Satoru blurts out. "I don't have a lot of experience with it but— yes. Especially if it was the— right person.”

He watches Suguru freeze, just slightly, before he starts to move again, clearing his throat, picking up his water bottle to take a sip, and Satoru definitely doesn't watch him swallow a little too intently.

"I just don't have a lot of experience with sex beyond like," Satoru waves his hands to indicate somewhere around a normal amount, "and especially not with men and I don't know. What do men like?"

“You’re a man.” Suguru says, playing with the top of his water bottle. “Use that as reference.”

Satoru scoffs at him because yeah, true actually, and he’s aware this is a ludicrous conversation to be having and he has no reason to be having it or trying to get Suguru to answer him but– in for a penny, in for a pound? Or whatever.

“Boo.” He says and Suguru sighs, which probably means he’s giving in because it’s the sort of sigh that he does right before he does what Satoru wants.

"I mean, every man is different." Suguru says, like it’s obvious, because it is.

"Obviously." Satoru scoffs. "I'm asking you."

"Yeah, why are you asking me?" Suguru says.

"Shoko told me to?" Satoru tries again.

Suguru looks at him in that sort of confused and calculating way he does sometimes, like he's doing a really difficult math problem in his head, only Satoru is the math problem and Suguru might be coming up with no answer.

“You like getting your hair pulled?” He says finally, voice low enough that Satoru shivers and has to try to play it off.

"Yeah." He says shortly. "So, do you?"

"Hmm." Suguru says.

There's a quiet that lasts so long Satoru is about to deflect, how exactly he does not know, but then Suguru does the really small exhale sigh thing again and straightens up on the couch, swinging one leg up so he's facing Satoru who is leaning against the other arm rest, his feet half on Suguru’s lap.

"I like when people pull my hair a little." Suguru says and Satoru stops breathing. "Especially when it's like they can't help it, like they're mindless with it. And I don't mind pulling someone’s hair. I like to be a little– mean, maybe? Maybe mean isn’t the right word,” he frowns, like he is considering, and Satoru blinks rapidly, “I don't like to hurt people or anything like that just– if someone likes it– then I like being a little mean, you know, a little bit of teasing."

Satoru exhales very shakily and pulls his knees up to his chest, resting his chin on top of them.

"That's what you like in bed?" He whispers.

"I like a lot of things." Suguru looks at him like he’s memorizing something important. “It matters who I'm with and what they like too. I like a lot of things.” He repeats.

"What are you into right now?" Satoru asks, inanely, like it's a fucking sports team or a new hobby.

"I'm not having sex right now with anyone." Suguru says after a second.

"Right, but like, what are you, like, you know, thinking about, conceptually, if you were going to have sex sometime soon with someone, what would you want to happen or, like, if you were, you know, fantasi–"

"Take a breath." Suguru says and Satoru kicks him in the shin, before tucking his leg back against his chest again.

"Right now?"

Suguru looks at him and Satoru sort of gestures like carry on which makes Suguru crack a grin. Suguru leans back on the couch and tilts his head back, eyes toward the ceiling, kicks his legs onto the coffee table, and Satoru just looks at the long length of him and feels, very slightly, like his brain is going to leak out of his ears.

“I really like making the other person feel good.” Suguru says, without looking at him.

Satoru stifles a whimper because he thought maybe Suguru was going to be like enough is enough and stop doing– whatever he is doing. Indulging Satoru, maybe? Why?

"Lately,” Suguru says, like he’s considering, “well, I like getting on my knees, I’m good with my mouth, I think about doing that lately. I like to top, I like to bottom too, but lately I’ve been thinking about topping and like– making the other person feel good that way. I like when my partner talks like they can't help it, really vocal. I’ve been thinking about that, making someone come undone underneath me, going real slow, so they can feel me inside them. I keep thinking about,” he taps his knee a few times, “this specific person, and this person crying a little, just because it feels so good, I'm making them feel so good, lashes all clumped with tears and face flushed and just soft and pliant and only able to focus on me and how good I make them feel."

Suguru rolls his head toward Satoru, finally looks at him.

"Want me to keep going?" He asks.

"No," Satoru barely gets the word out. He’s so hard he's going to die. He literally is going to have to sit on his couch for the next, like, three hours doing breathing exercises, preferably without Suguru right there saying stuff like that, or maybe just there at all because the way his eyes look and the tan exposed line of his neck and– Satoru coughs out an exhale. Yeah, Satoru’s just going to have to sit here for awhile so that when he stands up the friction from his jeans doesn't just make him come immediately. "No, you've given me…a lot to work with. That. Yeah. No, thank you for sharing."

“What about you?” Suguru says and Satoru startles. “Don’t ask questions you won’t answer, remember?” He’s got one eyebrow raised and his hair is messy from Satoru’s hands and Satoru is like.

“Oh you know,” he can’t really get his voice much higher than a whisper, “basically like…the same things.”

“The same things.” Suguru repeats.

“Yep. Love…crying.” Satoru says, because all that’s happening in his brain is white noise and static. “And…feeling good.”

Suguru sort of hums and returns his head to rest on the back of the couch staring up at the ceiling while Satoru struggles to modulate his breathing and not be incredibly and evidently turned on.

"You're a little flushed there," Suguru says suddenly, leaning in and pressing the back of his hand to Satoru's forehead. Satoru jumps. “You feeling okay? Need me to turn your AC on?” His tone is so soft and his eyes are so gentle and his smirk is so infuriatingly knowing.

"You're being mean." Satoru mumbles, burying his face in his knees.

Suguru hums again and backs off, letting his head rest on the couch again. Satoru darts his eyes up to watch him.

"Yeah, maybe a little," Suguru agrees and then, eyes falling shut and so self-assured and with that smile on the corner of his mouth, he says, "but you like it."

Satoru’s going to lose it.

satoru [12:05 am]
guys emergency
pleaseplease
please
shibuya protocol

shoko [12:10 am]
here

utahime [12:11 am]
here

nanami [12:12 am]
here

haibara [12:12 am]
present!!!

satoru [12:13 am]
okay thank u
i want suguru to rail me so hard i can’t walk
like i want to be fucked senseless by him
like one word sentences are my limit type of situation

shoko [12:14 am]
wow
fuckin abuse of shibuya protocol system

nanami [12:15 am]
inappropriate and ill advised
disgusting
please lose my number

utahime [12:15 am]
the shibuya protocol is SPECFICALLY for EMERGENCIES

satoru [12:16 am]
it is an emergency!!!!

haibara [12:17 am]
really glad you’re exploring and learning about yourself
but like
maybe this kind of thing is a thought for just you and geto

satoru [12:17 am]
suguru doesn’t know

shoko [12:17 am]
no he definitely does

utahime [12:18 am]
i hate to engage with u
but yeah he does

nanami [12:18 am]
i also hate to engage with you
i also think geto knows

satoru [12:19 am]
i can’t stop thinking about him making me cry
he said hes good with his mouth
iwant to experience thi so badly

shoko [12:19 am]
you know what
this was an abuse of the shibuya protocol system
but im here now so i’ll bite

utahime [12:19 am]
no dont
babe please

shoko [12:20 am]
how did this even come up

satoru [12:21 am]
i told him u told me to ask what he likes in bed

shoko [12:21 am]
u told him what

haibara [12:21 am]
why would you tell him that

satoru [12:21 am]
idk anyway

shoko [12:22 am]
anyway????? anyway the fuck right back to that shit

utahime [12:22 am]
why would u tell him shoko told u to ask what he likes in bed
why
that's literally insane

nanami [12:22 am]
there are clinical concerns here for sure

satoru [12:23 am]
you guys please focus

utahime [12:23 am]
WERE FOCUSED you FOCUS

shoko [12:24 am]
never ask me if you need life saving surgery i wouldn’t do it

satoru [12:24 am]
yeah u would

shoko [12:26 am]
yeah probably
okay so
just to recap
u asked geto what he likes in bed

utahime [12:26 am]
and lied that shoko told u to

shoko [12:26 am]
and he told u
in excruciating detail
from what im gathering
exactly what he wants to do with u

satoru [12:27 am]
he didnt say me
suguru doesn’t know im into him

utahime [12:27 am]
no he definitely does

shoko [12:27 am]
yeah he does

haibara [12:28 am]
i think he does

satoru [12:29 am]
no and even if he did
he said he was imagining someone
like a specific person

shoko [12:30 am]
yeah
fucking YOU
dumbass

utahime [12:31 am]
this is unreal

satoru [12:31 am]
really????
r u sure
i bet if i asked u would be wrong

nanami [12:33 am]
the day you got assigned to me as my upperclassmen mentor for the basketball team has led me down a strange life path
i don’t respect you

satoru [12:33 am]
so u think i should ask who he meant

nanami [12:35 am]
you know what– enough
i am done
i am going to fuck my boyfriend
and pretend ive never met you

haibara [12:35 am]
oh nice
bye yall

shoko [12:36 am]
actually nice call,
im going to fuck my girlfriend

utahime [12:36 am]
girlfriend?

shoko [12:37 am]
oh
im going to ask my situationship to be my girlfriend
and then fuck her

utahime [12:38 am]
oh nice
bye loser

satoru [12:39 am]
guys?

satoru [12:45 am]
guys!!!

satoru [12:57 am]
hate u all

satoru [1:23 am]
hey shoko wanted me to ask something else

suguru [1:24 am]
go to bed, satoru

Sometime the next week, when Satoru has managed to convince himself he’s totally playing it cool and Suguru is none the wiser, Suguru ends up at his house after sparring to lose to Satoru at video games, as is tradition.

Only they had relatively quickly abandoned the video games and the TV is on, playing something real soft and quiet, some music channel that Suguru chose, and have just been talking, showing each other stuff on their phones, Satoru’s toes dug under Suguru’s thighs on the couch, Suguru wearing a pair of Satoru’s sweats, a t-shirt, slightly too long on him. They both took baths so Suguru is staying over, though he hasn’t quite said that yet and neither has Satoru.

“Let me play with your hair,” Satoru whines, cutting off the story Suguru is telling, suddenly desperate for touch.

“Hmm?” Suguru tilts his head, hand unconsciously going up to his head.

“It’s so much longer than it was at school.” Satoru says, “and you were always pinning all of it up but now it’s all,” he waves, “loose and soft.”

Suguru looks at him questioningly.

“Let me, let me.” Satoru sing-songs and Suguru sighs, pulls out his hair tie and shakes his hair out from the small bun he had pulled half of it into. It makes Satoru’s throat feel tight, something about the way it falls against his cheekbones.

“Well?” Suguru says when Satoru doesn’t move, so Satoru moves pretty much instantly, scooting over, folding one knee up against the back of the couch, working his toes a little bit behind Suguru’s back, the other knee bent and in Suguru’s lap.

Suguru’s hands awkwardly bounce on his leg, then off again, like he’s not sure where to put them.

Satoru sighs, grabs one, puts it on his knee, then threads his hands into Suguru’s hair and sighs happily.

“Nice.” He says.

Suguru laughs a really small laugh, sort of wistful, and closes his eyes, leans into the touch, a trace of something on his face– maybe humor, maybe not.

“What?” Satoru says, scratching a little because it makes Suguru hum under his hands.

“Nah,” Suguru says, and then pulling back a little, “do you remember when we were kids?”

Satoru tugs on one of Suguru’s piercings, rubs the shell of his ear, gives him a look that says duh.

“You were always like this,” Suguru’s hand is soothing on Satoru’s leg as he speaks, rubbing gently, so Satoru assumes this isn’t a bad thing. “Like, remember the first time we snuck out?”

“You were so pissed.” Satoru says with a laugh.

“I was worried about losing my scholarship, but something about you, I don’t know, you got under my skin.”

Satoru hums, pleased.

“You always knew how to push my buttons, I couldn’t believe how mad you could make me. But then, I always did whatever you said. I was so mad we were sneaking out, but I was right there with you.”

“To keep me out of trouble.” Satoru says, remembering the words Suguru had hissed at him.

“It was always like that. All the time, anything you did, I was always right there.” He smiles at Satoru, tucks some of his hair behind his ear for him. "Anyway," Suguru continues, with that little tender smile that makes Satoru feel special and warm, "I was just thinking about that– about how I always give you what you want."

Satoru’s hand stills and he feels small for some reason. That doesn't sound like a good thing, actually? That isn't a good thing, right? He lets his hand fall from Suguru's hair.

"Satoru?" Suguru says.

"Um, is that a bad thing?" He doesn't mean to fidget but he does, slightly, before he stills himself.

"Hey, no." Suguru reaches out and lifts his chin so that Satoru meets his eyes again, "I’ve never given you something I didn’t want to give you. I was just thinking about it."

Satoru nods after a second, because Suguru wouldn't lie to him, and then reaches back up, runs his fingers down a piece of Suguru's hair, wraps it around them, hums. He wonders, flicks eyes to Suguru’s face, and looks at the way Suguru is watching him.

"Always?" Satoru says. "You sure?"

Suguru laughs.

"Why, am I missing something?"

"What about what I want right now?" Satoru says, briefly possessed. He doesn't even know what he's asking for, right now, so why would Suguru? But he's itchy, under his skin, and doesn't know how to deal with it.

Suguru tilts his head a little.

“Right now?" He blinks, that math-problem-solving look on his face again. "I don't know what you want right now, Satoru." He says, voice soft and dragging. “So how can I give it to you?”

"If you knew," Satoru presses, letting go of his hold of Suguru's hair, “would you give it to me?”

"Probably." Suguru says and then laughs at himself. "Yeah. Probably always.”

"What if it's a big thing?" Satoru asks, tapping his pointer finger on Suguru's chest, "You shouldn't just say yes , what if it's a really big thing?"

"Is it?" Suguru asks, pressing his thumb into Suguru's knee, rubbing the spot after. "I would probably still say yes, Satoru. I don't think you know what I would–" he makes a strange scoffing impatient sound.

Satoru could ask what that means, what the rest of that sentence is, but it's very quiet and Suguru is warm and solid, pressed against him, and Satoru needs and doesn't know what.

"Remember what we talked about last week?" They talked about a lot last week, but he thinks Suguru will know exactly which conversation he means. If Suguru doesn't know actually then that's pretty good proof that Satoru needs to cut his losses and deflect before he ends up crying at a KFC again.

Suguru looks at him, unreadable. His hand moves slightly up on Satoru’s knee, rests on his thigh.

"Yes." Suguru says, like he's treading carefully. "I remember."

Okay, great. Satoru takes a small breath.

“You said you were thinking of a specific person?”

"Yes.” Suguru's hand squeezes, just enough pressure that Satoru feels brave. This might ruin everything but– it might not, right? He's played his hand a little too much now to pull back anyway.

“Well, what if what I want right now is for you to have been talking about me?" He tracks Suguru’s eyes, his face, the way his hands twitch like they want to touch when Satoru speaks. "That's what I want right now. For that to be me. For you to have been talking about me.”

Suguru inhales sharply and his hand slides up to Satoru’s inner thigh, thumb pressing into the joint of his hip, and Satoru shivers hard but doesn’t drop eye contact.

“I was talking about you.” Suguru whispers, low and rough, in a way that makes Satoru want to melt and he does, a little, leans into Suguru, into the words.

“Yeah?” He breathes.

“Yeah,” Suguru murmurs, “that’s what you want, Satoru? You want to have sex? Want me to fuck you?"

Satoru might not even make it all the way there at this rate, the way Suguru is looking at him, talking to him. Satoru feels like he’s coming undone from the inside out.

"Yeah," He whispers finally, trying to catch his breath, assemble his thoughts, “yeah, just– there’s. Yeah, I want that, but–."

Something sort of flashes in Suguru's eyes, across his face, but it's gone too quick for Satoru to catch and it leaves him vaguely unsettled that he didn't. Suguru seems to take one second, a little hitch in time, and then he presses his thumb in hard enough that Satoru makes a sound, lifts into the touch. Suguru settles his hand on Satoru's hip, then under his shirt, warm and comforting on his lower ribs. He lifts his other hand up behind Satoru’s head, starts to tilt Satoru backwards, hovering over him, eyes dark and mouth so close.

“But?” he muses, “but what? No strings attached?”

Wait what, Satoru manages to think.

“That’s what you want? Just this once, want me to show you how to feel good?"

"Stop." Satoru says instantly, hands on Suguru's chest, because that is so wrong. That is so unbelievably wrong. Damn, how did he fuck that up this bad? Suguru backs up immediately, removes his hand from Satoru's hair, his waist, face open and startled and maybe– Satoru thinks– a little scared.

"Sor–”

"No." Satoru says, scrubs his hands through his hair in frustration, then reaches out and cups Suguru's face. Suguru jolts in the touch and stares at him, wide-eyed, biting his lower lip. "No, you're– do you know I don't eat eggs anymore?"

Well, that wasn't actually what Satoru had been planning to say. He tries not to wince. Suguru blinks, clearly taken aback and struggling to follow but, because he's Suguru, he does.

"No," he says slowly and then a dawning light in his eyes, "I– oh shit, I make tamagoyaki like every morning. You've been eating it, why didn't you–"

Satoru puts his finger on Suguru's mouth to shush him and Suguru goes quiet instantly under the touch, blinks up at him slow and steady, lashes like a Disney character at this angle, a princess, all long hair everywhere and Satoru’s losing it. He needs to get his mouth on Suguru. It’s so fucked up that his mouth isn’t on Suguru right now.

"I don't even eat eggs anymore.” He says, trying to compound all his feelings into these little words and they’re much too small and he doesn’t know what to do. “I don’t because you used to make me tamagoyaki and onigiri, in our stupid little crappy dorm kitchenette, and no one else has ever made it that good. I tried to make tamagoyaki and it was wrong and you weren't there and no one has been able to make it right, not once, not ever. I couldn't eat it without thinking about how wrong it was and about you and how much I missed you, so stupid much. I can't even exist without you," He's blinking back tears. He feels ridiculous. Suguru hasn't said anything so maybe this– maybe this is what ruins it all and that's just perfectly terrible but whatever. “I want so many strings.” He whispers, dropping his hands, staring down into his lap. "Please. Please, I want all the strings, Suguru–"

"Hey, don't cry." Suguru says, cupping his face, tilting it back up so they can see each other.

"You said you like it when people cry." Satoru says, to be contrary, and to distract from the fact he is, actually, slightly tearing up.

"Not like this and you know it." Suguru says, smoothing over his cheekbones, "Hey. Hey."

Satoru pushes his hands away and sits up a little straighter.

"So, that's what I want." He says, clearing his throat and brushing away the errant tear. "Is that something you can give me? That you want to give me?" His stomach clenches, in anticipation of possible rejection, but he stiffens his shoulders and waits.

"Satoru," Suguru says so softly, hands flexing slightly in his lap, and Satoru's stomach does something really really weird and painfully good, "you already have that. I–" He reaches out and pulls Satoru closer, then closer still, so Satoru just climbs onto his lap and looks down at him, tilting his face up.

“I do?” He asks.

“Yeah,” Suguru laughs, “yeah, Satoru– yes.”

“What.” He demands. "Why would you say no strings then?"

Suguru seems at a loss for a moment, runs his hands up and down Satoru’s sides like he’s trying to make sure Satoru’s real under his hands.

“I thought that you wanted just sex, like, to try it, and I figured that if it was something I could give you, even if it hurt me, it was something I wanted to give you. Wanted to make sure your first time felt good, was good. I don't– Satoru–”

Satoru presses a kiss to the corner of Suguru’s mouth and listens to his small stuttered inhale.

“Satoru, I was crazy about you in school, I think I loved you, even though we were just kids. I thought you would forget me and move on and I could just pine over you a little bit for the rest of my life but– then you didn't. You looked at me like you wanted me in your life, like maybe you wanted me, you kept flirting, or I thought you were, I wasn’t sure if I was just projecting. I didn’t want to be wrong and lose you again." Suguru just looks up at him for a second. "All the strings." He says firmly. "As many as you want, for as long as you want, Satoru."

"Good." Satoru says. "All of them. Forever." He brushes Suguru's hair back from his face, revels in the touch of it, presses their noses together, then their foreheads.

"Can I please kiss you?" Suguru whispers, his fingers digging into Satoru's sides, the dent above his hips, "Shit, I've wanted to for like a decade."

"Then you can wait a little more." Satoru says, ghosting a kiss over the shell of Suguru’s ear, shifting in Suguru's lap slowly, grinding down, gratified by the sound Suguru makes, part groan, part exhale.

"Mean." Suguru gasps around a laugh.

"Yeah," Satoru says, feeling smug and sure, leaning forward so their lips almost touch, "but you like it."

Suguru rolls his eyes and nips at Satoru's mouth, lifting up when Satoru pulls away, like he's chasing a touch he hasn't even had, and Satoru's whole body sings.

"Yeah," Suguru slides his hands under Satoru's shirt again. "I do. Let me kiss you, 'toru."

"Oh yeah," Satoru says, "that would be great."

Kissing Suguru is a new experience and, once they start, Satoru does not want it to end. He's not really sure kissing has ever felt like this, and that's mostly to do with the way Suguru seems so into it. He’s so intent on making sure it feels good, so thorough in the touches, the way he presses into Satoru’s mouth, the brush of his tongue, the gentle bites, that Satoru starts to shiver, rolling his hips down in Suguru’s lap. Suguru’s gentle hands, heavy on his hips, keep stopping him from getting any kind of pressure, friction, and Satoru likes that too. Suguru kisses down his neck, nipping and biting and tugs at his shirt, bites gently and then a little harder, like he’s checking, and Satoru whispers yeah , and Suguru sucks a hickey onto his skin. Satoru makes a sound he didn’t know he could make, hand tight in Suguru’s hair, and he is definitely checking out now.

"I want you to ruin me.” He whines, when Suguru starts kissing a tender spot right on the underside of his jaw. Satoru's head is spinning and he's so hard he thinks something is gonna go wrong in his body elsewhere from all the blood being in his dick. "I want that now, can you do that?"

Suguru laughs, wet and warm and muffled by Satoru’s skin, licks a stripe up his neck, kisses him hard.

"You think I can't?" He says, raising an eyebrow.

"You're all talk so far, buddy." Satoru tells him and then gasps, curling in on himself, pressing his face into Suguru's neck, as Suguru palms him through his sweats, fingers slowly tracing the shape of him, one hand on his lower back pushing him forward into the heel of Suguru’s hand. “Oh god, okay, not talk.” He mumbles.

"I've barely even done anything." Suguru murmurs into his hair. "Cute."

Satoru sits up and smacks him on the shoulder.

"Ruin me." He says, pulling Suguru’s hair so he tilts up and Satoru can control the kiss. "Fuck me up, make me cry. I don't want to be able to form sentences. That’s what I want.”

Suguru rolls his eyes but he’s definitely not unaffected, his dick twitches against Satoru, a new sensation for Satoru, the hard length of someone pressed against him, and one he is very into.

“C’mon, Suguru.” He teases, because Suguru keeps lifting up when Satoru breaks kisses, like he doesn’t want them to end and, when Satoru reaches between them to explore what it feels like to have Suguru hot and heavy in his hand– very good, very hot– it’s kinda cute, the sound Suguru makes, the way his eyes sort of glaze over as he lifts up into Satoru’s touch. Satoru wants simultaneously to ruin and be ruined, an itch under his skin. “All talk, I see.” He whispers into Suguru’s open mouth.

Suguru seemingly regains some control of his faculties and pulls Satoru’s hand off his dick and up to Satoru’s other hand where it’s tangled in Suguru’s hair. He flips them on the couch, the air going out of Satoru’s lungs, their bodies pressed together and Satoru’s wrists, caught in Suguru’s hand, are pressed up into his overly expensive couch cushions.

“Yeah,” he gasps, “yeah, Suguru, s’good, keep this up.” He wriggles against the grip and bites at Suguru’s mouth, lifting one leg up to lock around Suguru’s hips.

"Whatever you want." Suguru says, shifting and sliding his thigh between Satoru’s legs to give him something to arch up into.

"Yeah," Satoru whines, sticks out his tongue and Suguru bites it gently, a scrape of teeth, "whatever I want." He lifts upward into the next kiss, his hips kicking up.

"Anything," Suguru presses into his mouth, "everything. Always."

“Promise.” Satoru pants.

“Promise.” Suguru says, “I promise, Satoru.”

Suguru, Satoru thinks, when he can start to think clearly again, is definitely not all talk.

It’s sometime after round three, and Satoru is vaguely delirious and spent and overstimulated, and also maybe starting to come down a little while Suguru holds him against his chest, kisses the back of Satoru’s neck, calling him all sorts of pretty words.

Definitely definitely definitely not all talk.

"S'good." He slurs at Suguru who laughs softly, presses another kiss to the side of his neck. "S’– passing grade. Excellent," he waves his hand behind him and smacks at Suguru's ass, his hip, "excellent work."

"I'm not done." Suguru whispers, lifting up, biting Satoru’s earlobe and tugging. "Was told you didn't want to be able to form sentences and that was a sentence."

"Th's," Satoru rolls over in Suguru's arms, "s'the best day of m'life."

"Mine too, actually." Suguru says.

Satoru could cry. Which is, apparently, the plan.

utahime [12:30 pm]
where is satoru
i expected to get terrible gay updates by now
i dont miss him but i AM vaguely worried he's deceased

shoko [12:42 pm]
i actually don't know
like bro u good
u living

satoru [2:18 pm]
ladies
ladies ladies ladies

utahime [2:20 pm]
nope nvmd
nope

shoko [2:22 pm]
ooooh
bitch got his hair pulled

satoru [2:28 pm]
dick so good i cried

shoko [2:29 pm]
fantastic

utahime [2:30 pm]
sooooo deathly happy for u

satoru [2:35 pm]
🍑🍆💦 🥵🤑🔞💦
on repeat

utahime [2:40 pm]
im sorry i summoned you

satoru [2:41 pm]
im going back in ladies
until his throat knows every vein utahime
every single one

shoko [2:43 pm]
wow

utahime [2:43 pm]
that’s information i didn't need

satoru [2:41 pm]
suguru said to stop txting u now
byeeeeeee

utahime [2:47 pm]
can u like
hit me really hard shoko
i want amnesia

shoko [2:48 pm]
mood
see u in 10

Suguru tosses Satoru’s phone on the bed when he snatches it from his hands. Satoru doesn’t even look where it lands.

“I do have to go soon,” Suguru tells him again, lifting up to catch Satoru’s mouth in another lingering kiss, nipping at his lips as they part, “stop tormenting our friends.”

“You can’t leave,” Satoru whines, tracing his fingers up Suguru’s inner thigh, over his hip, resting them below Suguru’s belly button and watching him shiver, “that’s what I want. I don’t want you to leave and you gotta give me what I want.”

“You want me to get fired?” Suguru asks with a laugh, but he’s falling back on his elbows on the bed, letting Satoru kiss down his bare chest to where his hand is playing with the tie on Suguru’s sweats.

“Yeah, I’ll be your sugar daddy.” Satoru says, looking up at Suguru and wiggling his eyebrows. He tugs at Suguru’s waistband with his teeth. “I’m loaded. I’ll treat you so right, baby.”

“You’re so annoying.” Suguru laughs, pulls Satoru up for a kiss and catches his hands, presses kisses onto his knuckles. “You’re the worst.”

“Thanks.” Satoru says and leans in so he can press their lips together again, gets lost in it slightly, the give and take of kissing Suguru, before he sighs. “Okay, fine, up and at ‘em, shower time.”

When Suguru leaves, it’s with one final lingering kiss in Satoru’s doorway. Satoru presses into it, likes how Suguru lifts up to meet him, gets a little distracted with how into it he is. He fixes Suguru’s bun when he pulls back since he kinda fucked it up again.

“You're coming over tonight, right?” Suguru asks, adjusting the blanket Satoru is using as clothes, pressing a kiss to his collarbone, then his inner wrist, then lifting up and kissing his forehead. “Nanako said she wants to try making nikujaga and said you should help, which seems like a recipe for disaster. Mimiko thinks you’re going to set the kitchen on fire.”

“I’m there.” Satoru says. “Tell me if you need me to pick up anything from the store on my way. And I’ll keep my hands to myself all night so let me sleep over. I’ll do whatever you say.”

Suguru kisses his forehead again, then the corner of his mouth, then where Satoru knows his dimple is.

“You doing whatever I say would be a sight to see.” Suguru says with a smile. “Come over around 7.”

Satoru does, in fact, keep his hands to himself. Falling asleep with Suguru pressed to his chest, arm around his waist, makes his heart feel so good and full that he’s almost sick with it. He doesn’t want to sleep so he can watch Suguru sleep, see the way his face relaxes, but he does sleep eventually. It’s good though, because then he can watch the way Suguru wakes, slow and steady and looking toward Satoru, like he already knows he will find Satoru looking back.

“Hello beautiful people,” Satoru says, throwing himself into an empty chair at their next brunch. Suguru rolls his eyes, raising his hand in greeting, and sits down next to him. Satoru swings his legs over Suguru’s thighs because he can.

His greeting is met with the normal general murmurs of hello and eye rolls. Utahime shoots him daggers, looking pointedly at his legs in Suguru’s lap.

All is well with the world.

“You’re late,” Utahime says, “but honestly Geto’s a good influence on you, this is the closest you’ve ever been to on time.”

“We had things to do, got distracted if you know what I mean.” He winks as obnoxiously as he can, straightening up in his chair, replacing his legs with his hand on Suguru’s thigh.

Suguru snorts.

“He was helping Nanako with her trig homework. The girls say hello to you all, by the way.”

“Wow,” Shoko says, “Gojo Satoru, that’s awful, you’re like a dad.”

“I had a thing going,” Satoru whines, turning to Suguru to fake complain, but Suguru’s looking at him too fondly for Satoru to even pretend to be upset in any shape or form.

“Cute.” Suguru says.

“You’re the cutie.” Satoru responds and Suguru laughs at him, leans in and kisses him softly. It’s probably just supposed to be a quick kiss, but Satoru loves these kinds of kisses, slow and gentle, so he lets himself melt into Suguru, Suguru’s arm sliding around his waist.

“Gentlemen.” Shoko says, after a moment. “Please.”

Satoru breaks the kiss to glare at her, and then looks back at Suguru because he’s very into the way Suguru blinks his eyes open all slow after they kiss, the way he looks at Satoru like he’s something wondrous.

“I thought high school was bad, I didn’t realize those were the good times,” Utahime sighs, “this is awful.”

“It’s more PDA than is, strictly speaking, necessary.” Nanami says, and he’s saying something else too but Satoru is busy because Suguru won’t stop looking at him and so he has to kiss him again.

He has to.

Someone, he has suspicions it’s Utahime, throws a creamer at his face.

“Ow.” He says, turning to the table. “Rude.”

“One of the two of you is an exhibitionist.” Shoko points between them. “Or both of you. If it’s only one of you though I, personally, have my guess who.”

“Is it me?” Satoru says. “Intrigued, tell me more. Also no, I don’t think I am? Am I?” He turns to Suguru.

“Let’s talk about it later.” Suguru says.

“Yeah, privately– oh, they’re kissing again.” Utahime’s voice sort of drifts off.

Suguru is so good at kissing. Satoru’s so whipped for him.

“Oh wait,” Satoru says with a start, pulling away and feeling Suguru’s hand tighten on his hip, “actually–”

“Praying I lose hearing before the end of this sentence.” Utahime says with a sigh.

“I’m thinking this is inappropriate.” Shoko says. “I’ll bite, keep going.”

“So, Suguru kept saying it was hot,” Satoru continues, “so I made him take a video so that I could see,”

Suguru bites Satoru’s earlobe probably to get him to stop but joke’s on him because it just makes Satoru shiver.

“A video?” Shoko muses. “Maybe I shouldn’t have bit.”

“Stop.” Nanami says. “Please, stop.”

“–yeah, a video,” Satoru continues, never one to be deterred, “so that I could see what it looks like when he’s giving me backshots,” he has to raise his voice to be heard over the clamor, “and he was right, it was so hot.”

“Maybe that should be for you and Geto only.” Haibara says, clearing his throat. “Like an inside thought.”

“It was so fucking hot.” Satoru assures him. “He kept filming too, it was so hot.”

“Yeah.” Shoko sighs. “I shouldn’t have bit.”

“I wish I was dead.” Utahime monotones.

“If you ever,” Nanami says, leaning forward across the table toward Satoru, and sounding so stormy that Satoru looks at him immediately, “ ever say the word backshots in front of me again, I will light you and then myself on fire.”

Satoru blanches.

“Don’t do that?” He says.

“Don’t say backshots.” Nanami counters.

“It’s like none of you want me to be happy. ” Satoru sighs, after a few seconds of complete silence. “This is literally so sad.”

He doesn’t pay much attention to the general chaos that breaks out after that.

“I want you to be happy.” Suguru murmurs in his ear. “Please stop torturing our friends.”

“Good, because I am happy.” Satoru finds Suguru’s hand and intertwines their fingers. “Also no. Also, I want you to be happy too.”

Suguru laughs.

“I am happy, Satoru.”

Satoru’s name in Suguru’s mouth sounds like coming home.

He leans over and kisses him again, soft and gentle, tries to put all his feelings into the brush of their lips. When he pulls back he rests their foreheads together.

“Good.” He says. Suguru squeezes his hand tight. “Good.”

♡♡♡

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