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When the realisation strikes, it's on a deceptively normal day.
By the tail-end of busy Summer months, when curses have dwindled into mediocre numbers, waiting for Autumn's changing leaves. Once in a blue moon, a plucky grade-one or special-grade curse will try its luck, but they’re almost effortless to deal with.
From short glimpses in between missions, Satoru knows that Suguru’s constant use of his cursed technique is steadily catching up to him. To tell the truth, Satoru’s feeling a little ragged himself. A reprieve away from the incessant hordes of curses, feeding off of and borne of the fears of the sprawling population, is definitely well-deserved.
They sleep in and spend time on random non-life-threatening hobbies picked up from the internet. Sometimes, Shoko will join them in the afternoons, but the days end solely with the two of them watching movies whilst shovelling junk food into their mouths. Except when their pantries are empty. In which case, they need to shuffle out the dorms for an impromptu shopping trip too late into the night.
“Suguru- No! If you take out the toffee popcorn, I will scream right here in the middle of aisle four at 2 AM.”
“You’ve got six bags in there already, we don’t need-”
“AAAAAAAAAA-”
“Fuck, okay, okay," Suguru muffles Satoru's screeching with one hand and throws the seventh packet back into the trolley with the other, "I’m putting it back!”
Satoru licks his hand just to be annoying and Suguru looks at him with disgust.
"Don't do that," he chides, as if he isn't pettily wiping away saliva on Satoru's shirt, "you don't know where my hand's been."
Satoru ignores the untidy way his shirt crumples once Suguru is done and retorts, "You don't know where my mouth's been."
Their eyes meet and he can tell they're thinking the exact same thing when Suguru snorts. They both dissolve into fits of laughter for way longer than the joke warrants. A stranger passes by while giving them an odd look. Satoru is too busy enjoying the fluttery feeling he gets in his chest from hearing Suguru giggle to care.
It’s nice.
"C'mon," Satoru says, pushing their trolley forward, "let's pick up your mint chocolate."
Suguru frowns, "You hate that ice cream flavour."
"But you don't."
The comfort of being close, after months of continuous solo missions, sets in their weary bodies like the gradual application of layers and layers of paint on a masterpiece. Domesticity arises like the warmth of a good fireplace; easy and natural.
----
When they’re not living it up like everyone in their late teens should be— squawking obnoxiously while attempting the sophisticated art of birdwatching or annoying Shoko until she kicks them out of her dorm room— Suguru insists on teaching their hapless juniors hand-to-hand combat.
So, to do just that, Suguru is heading to the training grounds. An air of mundane routine flickers in the greenery and traditional buildings that greet them outside the dorms. The late morning weather is too hot for a jacket and Satoru insists on coming along because-
"You'll be bored by yourself, Suguru. You need me around to keep things light!"
"That is nowhere near true and you know it."
"Implying that you wouldn't miss having me around, eh? You don't have to lie about how much you really love me, Suguru."
Satoru grins and tries to ignore the nagging, insecure thought that it might not be a lie at all. It doesn't work. It only makes something in his chest shake terribly; forces the hollow of that space to become painfully noticeable.
Suguru sighs, "Don't do that, Satoru."
"Do what?" He feigns.
"Don't put up a front like that. If you want to hear me say it, I will," Suguru offers. Satoru holds his breath as the other boy carries on, "I'd much rather spend time with you than teach. I've missed you too."
Satoru's chest settles. It is strange, and also unbearably sweet, that Suguru can somehow solve problems that Satoru could barely even begin to explain. He still scoffs because, okay, he missed Suguru a little, but not that much. And even if he did— which he didn't— saying it out loud would be too awkward.
"Then, why don't you?"
"I told you already."
Satoru pouts in the way he knows Suguru hates just to rile him up. He tries not to let it slip into a pleased smile when Suguru's eye twitches.
"But teaching is so boooring. I can't believe you're planning to come straight back here when we're finally graduating soon."
"Satoru, children like us are going to grow up and repeat the same mistakes that the people in power now are making, unless they know better. They need good teachers and I need the experience to be one. Also, I'm not coming straight back, I said in a few years—"
Satoru hums and lets the sounds of Suguru's spoken essay on the current curriculum pass through him, paying careful attention to his curving eyebrows and wild gesticulations. He's so passionate about it.
How cute.
Although, Satoru had been thinking along the same lines. A lot has got to change before the world can stop staining the childhoods of sorcerers with such a violent, disgusting red. It only hits harder after everything they've gone through. He still half-heartedly argues to hear Suguru rant about exploitation and fixing broken systems. He gets to admire the determined glint in his eyes that way.
Soon after, while making their way through familiar pathways, Suguru finishes his venting. They go back to leaning into each other's personal space, shoulders and hands brushing, to chatter about nothing again.
“Look, Satoru," Suguru points to the final turn before their destination, chuckling, "that’s the exact spot you ate concrete being a fucking idiot in our second year.”
“I was literally saving you from the cursed spirit behind you, shut up."
“You slipped, almost got burned by the curse, and I was the one that saved you.”
“Oh my god, please shut up.”
----
All in all, it’s a normal day and, after a short explanation to their juniors about the training session, he’s watching Suguru instruct three brats fumbling through their first year of high school. What could go wrong?
Today, they're out on the field. The sun is unusually hot in the clear sky for this time of year. Global warming sucks. Satoru finds himself a shady tree to comfortably lean against and frowns at the two water bottles he’s laid down on his right. He should have brought popcorn too. This is bound to be entertaining. Plus, he might have gone overboard with how much he bought on their last shopping trip (Suguru gave him a smirk that screamed I told you so the moment Satoru admitted it. Satoru would have shoved his smug expression away had Suguru not anticipated it and already stepped back).
Languidly, he watches the scene before him through his shades. In the past few sessions, the class had gotten used to the basics on soft mats inside the gym. Now, they had to train with skinned knees and raw palms against the beaten earth.
A loud thwack sounds as Suguru's fist meets someone's face cleanly. Oh yeah, this is also their first time sparring with Suguru instead of each other. The strike is nowhere near full strength but, by the grimace on the kid's face, it still stings. The kid reels back from the force.
Satoru gives a low whistle admiring Suguru's solid form. His arms are on full display, unhindered by his t-shirt.
In the previous sessions, Suguru had hung back, giving advice or demonstrating moves slowly to give the kids a chance to try them out for themselves.
A break in his stance caused by hesitation— he’s probably wondering if he should dial it back because he's ridiculous (and also incredibly sweet)— is all it takes for another kid to take advantage of the situation. She sweeps a leg from his blind spot and he loses his balance. The final first-year reacts immediately and throws a well-placed punch.
Satoru whoops at the quick-thinking from a distance, wincing when Suguru quickly regains balance to block and counters by flinging the puncher towards the kid that's just recovered from the blow to the face. They both flop to the ground like dead fish and the last kid standing goes down just as easily.
They get back up to try again and again and again.
It doesn't take long before Satoru gets fully into it; hollering suggestions for the kids and distractions for Suguru from the sidelines. When the kids finally land a proper hit, he cheers along with them. Suguru gifts them a short break and they're too worn out to disagree.
Satoru suspects the break is partially a result of the blazing sun. Sweat is clinging onto the first-years and Suguru in clear rivulets. Even Satoru is feeling the heat and he’s spent most of his time in the shade. They’re all reaching for their water bottles and he's doing the same when, without any warning at all, Suguru takes off his flimsy-looking t-shirt. And suddenly, naked flesh, glistening with sweat under the summer sun, invades Satoru’s vision.
He watches Suguru reach his arms up to untie his hair and the movement gives Satoru a clear view of the subtle shifting of his abs. His dark hair falls. Long strands cascade like midnight over the golden sun rays on his chest and blood rushes through Satoru's body. It makes him want.
Satoru doesn't moan.
He doesn’t. He just... breathes. Very loudly.
Oh god. Is he gay?
Thankfully, he's too far away to be heard by anyone— not that there was anything to hear— all he did was breathe.
Satoru's eyes start burning but he can't bring himself to blink. He doesn't want to miss any of this. Suguru re-ties his hair, making it as prim as it usually is. Satoru feels filthy watching Suguru’s biceps tense.
His mind is firing off in a billion directions. What about the cookie-cutter white picket fence life the clan heads insist on? Is this different from the way he liked girls? Is this bad? Should he say something? Is his fourth year the right time for a sexuality crisis? Is he alone in this discovery? Has Suguru ever felt like this?
But the prevailing thought screaming the loudest is that, while Satoru's not exactly scrawny, he reckons Suguru could easily lift him like he weighed nothing. And then, preferably, he could throw him onto a bed too.
Satoru breathes in deeply, breathes out slowly, trying to will any intimate thoughts away. He breathes in. And out. In. And out. He repeats the motion until his blood stops rushing through his ears and the jittery energy in his bones urging him to do something leaves him.
There are probably other moments he realises it; it isn't exactly news to say that Suguru Getou is attractive. This is just the first time that it isn't simply a small acknowledgement that his friend works out, or overhearing a passer-by whisper in hushed awe to their companion about it, or seeing someone's eyes linger on him too long and silently agreeing with their choice to do so. There's also that time he insisted they share cotton candy from the same stick when usually he'd rather die than pick any options with less sugar, and that time Suguru had leaned in close to check on his forehead scar and he’d inexplicably wished to have been scarred sooner, and that other time when-
Okay, maybe this has been going on for too long and this is just the first moment that he's beginning to realise why.
Oh god. He's definitely gay.
Suguru is discussing something with one of the juniors with his back towards him. And, damn, what a back it is. He notices a first-year— the leg-sweeping one— blatantly eyeing Suguru and opens his mouth to tell her to back off before he catches himself. It is much less embarrassing to stay quiet than it is to be (openly) irrationally jealous of a kid eyeing someone he had identified as his maybe-crush two seconds ago.
He gulps the strange nausea that comes with thinking of Suguru as his crush down with water. Suguru waves to him over the rim of the bottle lid.
Ha, Satoru thinks whilst returning the gesture, take that, shitty kid, Suguru is waving at me.
Then, Satoru feels like the dumbest person in the world because the wave means that Suguru is making his way towards him. When he's in the middle of his sexuality crisis.
What’s the most normal way to run away from this situation?
Too late, Suguru's already here.
Satoru pointedly does not look at him while he takes a seat on his left. Their shoulders are so close. Too close.
He directs his eyes to a blade of grass on his right that is like every other blade of grass in the general vicinity. He sets his water bottle back down gently in an attempt to act normal and watches its contents spill onto the ground when he fumbles- Shit, he forgot the lid.
He screws on the lid with shaking hands. His breaths are coming out sort of shallow.
Suguru definitely notices.
There is no way he can keep this a secret, especially when they spend so much time together. What if he makes one wrong move and Suguru looks right into his eyes and just knows?
"Are you feeling okay, Satoru?"
There's a pause as he tries to remember how to speak through the heavy lodging in his chest.
"I'm fine."
"Okay…" Just his luck to crush on Suguru, who can sense Satoru's lies from a mile away. "Are you sure?"
"Yes." He insists, twirling grass between his fingertips, still resolutely looking away.
"Alright," a sturdy arm appears in his line of sight pointing, "can you pass me my water?"
Satoru complies easily, picking up the bottle and turning left to hand it over. He only realises his mistake when he's met with the rippling expanse of Suguru's bare chest.
Satoru gulps.
He tries to maintain eye contact and listen when Suguru speaks, but a stray drop of sweat sliding down the distracting plains of his built torso is making that really hard. Satoru wants to touch it. Or lick it off. He's going insane.
Suguru waves a hand in front of him.
"My eyes are up here, Satoru."
"I- I know that. Put on a shirt, you exhibitionist. There are innocent children present."
He's definitely blushing and, if Suguru's smirk is anything to go by, everyone can see it.
----
It would be alright if that was the only moment his new realisation affected him, but it isn't. Ever since the overwhelming awareness of his... predicament, it's all he can think about. It's constantly putting him on edge.
One evening, he walks in on Suguru taste-testing something he's cooking. Satoru watches, completely enraptured, as the dark-haired boy swallows a spoonful of experimental curry. Suguru lets out a noise of pleasure as the rich flavours override his senses. It sounds too suggestive and Satoru's imagination runs wild. Suguru's tongue darts out to lick his lips in contentment. Satoru feels so dirty that he has to step back out of the kitchen.
He's heard the way people talk about being gay and the idea that they're spitting those words at him makes him uncomfortable. The idea that Suguru could be one of those vitriolic people makes his skin crawl.
Yes, this all feels exciting and new, but it also feels frustratingly wrong at the same time. He can't seem to reach an agreement with himself about it.
This has to end before it breaks him.
----
After dealing with an unexpected group of curses near school grounds, there is a small pause. The taste of victory, expected but still welcome, hums through them. Satoru feels confident enough that he decides, right then and there, to bite the bullet and just ask Suguru what he thinks.
He's already ended the illustrious Gojou clan's main bloodline without lifting a fucking finger. Not that maintaining his draconian bloodline was ever as important as his friendship with Suguru, of course.
"Suguru… Is being gay— like, if you like men, is it— is it bad?" Then, hurriedly at the end when Suguru gives him a strange look, he tacks on, "I'm asking for a friend!"
"I say this with the utmost love for you, Satoru: I'm the only male person you consider a friend."
Satoru, pretending his brain hadn't devolved into rapturous screaming as soon as he'd heard the word love, simply nods.
"Uh-huh..."
Suguru bites his bottom lip and Satoru would very much like to be the one doing that. Or be the one that's being done to. There are lots of things he wouldn't mind being done to him as long as Suguru was the one doing it- Shit, Suguru's speaking again.
Satoru stares at Suguru's mouth and can't hear anything. He’s too occupied with the deliberate movement of Suguru’s two lips and the way his face, strained in their fight, has a slight sheen of trepidation on it. The light reflecting off of his face highlights its sharp lines into striking shades. He's beautiful.
Satoru lets out a small helpless sigh.
Abruptly, he becomes terrified that Suguru heard it, as well as the rest of his more embarrassing thoughts, through some freaky mind-reading powers he had never mentioned in a bid to create this exact humiliating situation.
The terror snaps him out of his reverie.
"... everyone has different experiences. Really, what I'm trying to say, Satoru, is, of course, it's not bad to be something harmless that you have no control over, especially when it can bring you so much joy." Satoru blinks. Slowly, he lets the words wash over him like holy water. The terror subsides like a bad dream. He wonders if Suguru knows he's resolved weeks worth of internal debate and struggle with a single sentence heard by chance through clouded thoughts. Satoru breathes and his chest feels light and unhindered. "Besides, I'm gay and-"
"You're gay?"
"Yes? Technically, I'm pansexual, but if you're using it as an umbrella term, yeah, I'm gay."
"What does pansexual mean?" Satoru leans in, then stumbles a step back awkwardly. They're standing too close.
"Means I like everyone, regardless of their gender."
His mind blares with the thought that he might have a chance so loudly that he almost forgets to carry on the conversation.
"Oh! Well, I'm pretty sure I only like yo-" Fuck. "One gender. And that gender is male."
"Right," Suguru nods. Casually. As if Satoru hasn't almost had a heart attack thrice in this single conversation. "Wait, I thought you knew? Isn't that why you asked me all this in the first place?"
"Uh, no. Sort of just came out."
"In more ways than one," Suguru jokes, giggling at his stupid joke. Satoru huffs, but it does nothing to stop the smile on his face. "Honestly, I thought you figured it out when I started dating that guy-"
Satoru blanches. "What guy?"
"At the beginning of this year?" Suguru supplies, unhelpfully.
Late in their second year, they both decided they were fed up with the jujutsu system and took up more independent work. Two years later, they now have connections with people all over the world.
Satoru doesn't keep track of them and hasn't talked to them much past vapid conversations, but Suguru had a few outings with them. Suguru was a lot better at that people-pleasing stuff after all.
His puzzlement must be clear because Suguru tries to explain again.
"The one from Kyoto that hates ice cream."
Satoru wrinkles his brows in deep thought but comes up blank. "What kind of person hates ice cream?"
"Nevermind," Suguru rolls his eyes, "Besides, we're not together anymore."
"Realised you're too good for him? That's great!" Satoru exclaims, maybe a bit too happily.
"Actually, he was the one that broke things off."
“What?! Why?"
"Don't look so surprised, he was right to do it. Made me realise some things when he talked about always feeling second to-"
He stops abruptly and, for a moment, Suguru looks straight at him. Satoru's eyes waver, breath hitching at the blatant attention. He tries to keep down his blush because he really doesn't want Suguru to figure anything out right now. Suguru frowns and looks away again like he hadn't seen what he had wanted to.
For the first time in a long time, Satoru doesn't know exactly what Suguru is thinking. It leaves a strange hollow feeling in his chest.
"Second to what?"
Suguru shrugs, "He said that he felt like he wasn't a priority. And that we never spent enough time together."
"That's stupid," Satoru declares, in an effort to cheer Suguru up from his strange mood. "He should be thankful for any time he gets with you."
"Satoru," he laughs, "you insist on spending every minute of the day with me."
"That doesn't count. If I don't do that, I'd be bored forever."
"Only bored?"
Satoru relents, "And I would miss you too much."
He's mildly surprised at how it's not awkward to say at all. It's as easy and natural as anything else with Suguru. Well, he supposes, it is the truth and there is no harm in saying it. Maybe there's no harm in saying some other truths too. Especially if Suguru smiles so sweetly in response.
"I would miss you too."
Satoru tries to suppress the joy bubbling under his skin but he can feel himself smiling too. "Come on, let's report to Yaga so we can do anything else besides this."
----
Satoru feels acutely bored during the debriefing.
The seats in the classroom are always uncomfortable and they already know what happened. They were literally there. Whatever.
He glances at Suguru to see what he's up to, but mostly to check if it's safe to stare. He’s been doing that a lot lately. His Six Eyes let him catalogue every bit of Suguru and yet, he still wants more. When he looks, he finds Suguru is already looking at him. Staring, in fact. He stares back, looking right into Suguru’s eyes and this time, Suguru doesn't look away. Satoru's breath hitches.
They're thinking the exact same thing.
Yaga says something he doesn't hear. Suguru raises an eyebrow at Satoru and it's the hottest thing that's ever happened to him. Holy shit. This is actually happening. He doesn't know what expression he has on his face, he doesn't even realise his mouth is hanging open until Suguru smirks.
Yaga stops speaking. There is an even clatter of footsteps and then the door closes.
They're still looking at each other.
Satoru's eyes are kind of starting to burn but he doesn't want to miss any of this. Suguru is the first to break the silence.
"Can I kiss you?" He asks, breathlessly. Fragile and reverent, like prayer in a temple.
"I'd let you do anything you want to me," Satoru confesses easily.
Adrenaline rushes through Satoru at the hungry glint in Suguru’s eyes as he walks towards him. In one smooth motion, Suguru removes Satoru's shades and dips down. It's a good thing Satoru is still seated because his legs feel too weak to support his weight.
Satoru is a bit too eager and lifts his face forward too much. Their foreheads knock together and he lets out a hiss at the sting. They readjust and their lips finally meet. Suguru giggles against his mouth and Satoru lets the sound fill up the hollow of his chest. Wants to hold it there, like a shrine houses the divine, and keep it safe forever.
He wonders vaguely if they should be doing this somewhere more private, but Suguru is usually the one concerned with propriety, right? The thought is gone completely when Suguru swipes his tongue across his bottom lip to request entrance. Satoru opens up automatically and gasps at the meeting of hot tongues. It sets something in his stomach alight.
There is no vying for control, only a mutual rhythm they find exploring each other. Satoru's hands move to circle around Suguru's neck, messing up his neat hair. Suguru bites his bottom lip and does something obscene with his tongue. Satoru moans and the sound is swallowed between them.
Suguru lifts a knee between Satoru’s thighs to press their bodies closer. The kiss deepens and Satoru feels nothing in the world except all the points their two bodies are connected. Heat and desire rip through his flushed skin like a forest fire.
"Hey, do you-"
They both yelp in unison and pull apart.
Suguru stumbles on their tangled legs and falls back. Before he hits the ground, Satoru stands up from his chair. They both sigh in relief when they manage to hold onto each other and regain their balance. He feels a giddy sensation in his stomach when, instead of pulling away, Suguru intertwines their hands together.
"Anyway," Shoko starts again, equally as nonplussed as before, "you got any injuries for me to deal with?"
Satoru feels too dizzy off the ecstasy he's coming down from to say anything, but he still hears Suguru say no. It's too quiet for anyone who wasn't paying attention so Suguru has to repeat it again. It sounds prim the second time. Satoru feels light watching Suguru act as if they hadn't just been caught making out in an empty classroom. Although, Shoko does seem completely unsurprised about that.
She nods, "Glad you finally told him, Geto. Don’t text me about Gojo's eyes ever again."
What?
Shoko shuts the door and takes her leave. Satoru turns to the other boy. Suguru’s hair is loose, strands falling apart to frame his face in an undeniably enticing manner, and he's pointedly looking away.
He's definitely embarrassed.
Satoru grins, too wide for it to be innocent, and easily gets in his line of sight. He bats his eyelashes exaggeratedly and pouts.
"Why don't you ever text me about my eyes, Suguru?"
"Oh my god, please shut up."