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It was a silly thing, really. Satoru has led a fairly peaceful life, all things considered. He had strict, but fairly patient and kind caretakers with the exception of a few bad apples, and despite his lack of a social life as a child, he thinks he turned out pretty good. Suguru and Shoko insist he was insufferable in their first year together, up until Suguru - at that point, Geto - kicked his ass during training and made Satoru reconsider some things, but Satoru swears they hadn't seen even half of it. When he was a kid who hadn't yet figured out how to sneak out of the estate, he was surely far more irritating.
The first few kids he ever tried to befriend called him a freak and ditched him to play cards within seconds. At the time, Satoru thought they were a bunch of fools. Even if he was a little weird, any cursed spirit would've quivered beneath his presence. Any being with a drop of intelligence would have done anything to please him, and yet..
Well, not that it mattered regardless. Satoru was good at tucking things into the recesses of his mind, so he did exactly that to the memory of those kids, only coming back to it whenever he laid in bed after having a particularly disastrous social interaction or being called a particularly nasty name by a stranger. Sure Satoru could admit he was a bit of an ass. He riled people up on purpose, liked pushing buttons and watching the reactions they provided, but still, some people managed to tolerate him, so he just assumed he was a bit of an acquired taste, like kuzumochi. The first time he'd had it, it wasn't the best thing ever, but it steadily climbed the leaderboard of sweet treats he kept in his head.
Suguru always said not everyone would like him (and Shoko would often cruelly add, most people won't with a laugh) but coming to terms with it seemed to be a bit more difficult. It wasn't as if Satoru went out of his way to be a pain in the ass to everyone he met. Well. Not everyone. He just acted as came naturally to him, but rarely did it ever seem to be the correct answer. When he was a kid, his etiquette teachers would pull their hair out trying to explain the mysterious, secretive and intricate social rulebook that everyone had to follow inside the clans, and now as a teenager, he found a bizarre and unwelcome familiarity in the things Suguru would tell him sometimes.
“Satoru, that dude was clearly pissed at you, why'd you keep stalling?”
“Ha? But he told me to take my time.”
“Sarcasm, Satoru. He didn't mean it.”
Then why would he say it? Was it like how Satoru would tell the higher-ups all kinds of false niceties just so they'd get off his case? Satoru didn't really hold any power over a random stranger though, and the man didn't seem to want to suck up to him, so why wouldn't he just say what he wanted? Would it kill people to just be straightforward? Satoru never even saw that guy again (he would know) so it's not like any bad blood festered between them would matter. Not that Satoru would really care. People can say whatever they want to him, he's still untouchable above them.
There's something about it that irks him though. It's the same thing that irks him in the way some random things make him feel horrible. Lights that are obnoxiously bright. Too many noises at once. The texture of boiled eggs. When his hands feel too smooth under the shield of infinity and he needs to go run them under water until they feel real again.
It's not really like any of it matters. Not something worth telling his physician or, god forbid, bringing up to the clan heads, but it still irks him.
It irks him, because it's not what other people feel. It irks him, because he's still different from Suguru, especially, even after almost two years spent glued together.
People come easily to Suguru. He can sweet talk almost anyone into anything, old people love him, kids take to him like the kind older brother he is, and he smiles through it all like it's the easiest thing in the world.
Satoru isn't that good at it. He can make old ladies swoon over him, can make kids think he's cool, can even occasionally get people their own age outside of sorcery to think he's tolerable, but it's always so much effort. Like pulling on an ill-fitted mask over the ugly face of Satoru, making him more easily digestible and less unlikeable.
Sometimes, deep in his heart, Satoru pitifully fears that he may be doing the same thing unconsciously around the people he believes ‘tolerate’ him, and one day that mask will drop and everyone will leave. Suguru included.
It's a terrible, poisonous little thought, one that he tucks into the recesses of his brain with all his willpower, praying that it's nothing more than that. Just a dumb thought.
Surely, even he couldn't keep an act up for that long. Everybody would have left him by now if that's what they wanted to do.
-
It's a silly thing, so it only makes sense that what sets him off is an equally silly thing. Suguru and Satoru are walking around town, somewhere on the outskirts of Tokyo, doing a little sightseeing after completing their mission. Satoru leans almost imperceptibly into Suguru's space, enjoying the warmth and the comforting scent that emanates from him. He'd go as far as to lean on the shorter boy, but Satoru knew they were both too tired to do that. It would probably end with both of them face down on the floor.
An older woman passes by and compliments them. Satoru scoffs but doesn't answer, and when Suguru pokes him as if to signal that it's time for him to speak he opens his mouth and says some nonsense. He can barely remember it. It was something stupid. Hardly important. The woman looked mildly annoyed when she left, but Satoru didn't really care at all, and he was ready to keep moving when Suguru stopped him, a strong hand holding him back by the shoulder.
Suguru.. Suguru looks annoyed. He looks at Suguru, and for a moment Satoru can see disappointed tutors and irritated kids and every person who's ever looked at him and seen not enough, and it's a horrifying moment. When he blinks, Suguru has moved closer, but his expression is more controlled now, his hand squeezing Satoru's shoulder with subdued force, gentle even in his anger.
Ah, Suguru really is good with people. Satoru almost can't tell how badly he pissed him off.
“Satoru, you shouldn't say things like that. You'll hurt people's feelings.”
“She didn't seem that hurt? Just annoyed.” Satoru defends himself. He may suck at words and actions and interactions, but reading people is usually pretty easy. Except when it isn't. Like right now, when he's sure that Suguru is angry, but he actually isn't sure why. Suguru knows he's rude. He's always known. He knows how Satoru is, and he chose to stick around and pet his head and spoil him and sometimes even kiss him. He chose to massage Satoru's temples when his migraines get bad and help him peel his tangerines when he doesn't want to touch them.
So what exactly has made him this irritated? Is it really the fact that Satoru was a little snappy with a nosy stranger after a tiring day?
“God, you're always like this, Satoru.” Suguru exhales, and he sounds tired and Satoru's heart squeezes in his chest over it. Tired of him? Of the mission? Of trying to make Satoru be normal, maybe?
He drags a hand over his face with the air of a disappointed figure of authority, and Satoru squirms in place at the upsetting comparison. He really hates this.
“Can you just once try to think about someone other than yourself, Satoru?”
Well. That's uncalled for.
Satoru's whole life has been an unbearable loop of thinking about other people. Working hard for other people. Exorcising spirits for other people. Trying not to be so weird, for other people. Even now, he was wondering how to please Suguru, who was also another person. He doesn't really know how to respond to the question. Accusation? It doesn't feel like Suguru expects or desires an answer.
Suguru sighs before turning around, and Satoru lets out a pathetic sound, something like a squawk and a gasp all together leaving his mouth before he's jumping forward to take Suguru's wrist in his hand.
“Wait,” he squeals like a pig, his voice weird and croaky and wrong, and when Suguru turns to face him this time there's shock, maybe because of how wrong Satoru is, maybe because of something he sees on his face, but Satoru won't let him speak, can't let him speak, lest the words that come from his mouth are a goodbye or a plea for space.
“Please. Wait. Don't.. I mean, don't go anywhere.” Satoru's hands are shaking like never before, not even like the day he shot his first Blue, and there's a mysterious blurriness to his eyes that he unfortunately suspects may be tears.
“Satoru..” Suguru starts, but trails off, and Satoru can't help the sob that pulls itself from his throat. Suguru, who's so good with people, rendered speechless by Satoru's twisted personality at last.
“I'm sorry.” He whimpers, two words that hardly ever leave his mouth unless he really means it. Maybe that's what does it. All the hesitation leaves Suguru's body immediately, and strong arms pull him close to the other before he can even comprehend it. He sniffs wetly into Suguru's neckline.
“It's fine, Suguru. I'm sorry.” He wants to go back to normal. He wants to go sightseeing and eat something tasty with Suguru, wants to play around with him until they have to go back to the dorms before Yaga will string them up from the ceiling as punishment, but it seems Suguru will not allow it.
“ I'm sorry, Satoru. It's.. you shouldn't have been rude, sure, but that was dumb. You're always thinking about other people.” One big hand finds his head while the other rubs his back kindly, and Satoru wonders if this is Suguru's damage control.
“ Always is a stretch.” Satoru diminishes, regardless, maybe in the hopes of pulling a laugh from the other, but Suguru is taking this seriously, shaking his head and pulling away from him to look him in the eye.
“Satoru. I just said some bullshit because I was frustrated. I don't.. You know I don't believe that, right? I didn't mean it.”
Why did you say it? If you don't mean it, why did you say it?
Satoru really doesn't understand. He's never going to understand, he thinks to himself, and all the energy and fight leaves him at once.
“Yeah, okay. Sure.” He agrees, even though he doesn't really believe it for a second.
Suguru looks uncomfortable. God, Satoru just wants his bed. This won't be fixed. There is no fixing this, because there's no fixing Satoru, and he sure as hell isn't ruining Suguru just so he can feel better about himself, so Satoru sighs, wipes his face and starts walking again, this time in the direction of the train station.
Suguru follows without another word.
-
The next few days are awful. Stilted quiet blankets them wherever they go together, to the point Shoko keeps glaring at them out of the corner of her eyes during class, and when they have some free time she immediately grills them both on ‘what the fuck is wrong with you two', to which they both deflect and play it off, obviously not convincing her.
Satoru hates it so much. He's starting to hate himself too at this point (he may have hated himself the whole time, he realizes) and he really, really wishes he'd just smiled - bright and sunny - and thanked that stupid woman.
Suguru seems to be bothered too, and that's a mild comfort, that at least they're both miserable - but Satoru knows that's his apparent selfishness speaking for itself.
Ahhh. What a pain.
It's when they get assigned an overnight mission that they finally speak again.
Stuffed into a tiny inn room, sleeping on the same bed - because Yaga obviously couldn't book a double. Asshole. Suguru is unsurprisingly the first one to speak up.
“Satoru.. Can I speak?”
Satoru stays quiet.
“I'll be quick. You don't have to answer.” They're both facing opposite sides, so Suguru won't see Satoru nodding - somehow he forces his mouth to expel a hum through the knot in his throat.
“Thank you.” Suguru takes a deep breath then, as if preparing himself for the worst, and then he starts.
“I'm sorry. Seriously. It's not.. None of that was your fault, really. You know I don't care about your attitude. I was just tired, you know how much of a pain that mission was, and I was a little.. Ugh, I was jealous.”
That gives Satoru pause. “Jealous?”
“Yes, jealous. I should've known you didn't notice, but that lady was totally hitting on you. As if we weren't in uniform too, that creep tried to come onto you. And you.. I mean, you said if she begged you might give her a chance, so I got stupidly defensive. It's stupid.”
“She was hitting on me?” Satoru flips to look at Suguru, and is shocked when he finds the other is also facing him. When did he do that?
“Yes, Satoru, she was,” Suguru sighed.
“Ah.” Satoru scratched his neck nervously. “I wouldn't have, um, said it that way if I noticed. You know I didn't, like, mean it?”
“Of course I do. You just like being a little shit.” Suguru smiled affectionately despite everything, and Satoru's face and heart warmed simultaneously. How he had missed him.
“Satoru, I really am sorry. I.. I need you to understand something. I like it when you're a little shit. I like you bratty, and a little big headed, because it's you. The selfless, caring Satoru exists together with the smug bastard who occasionally gets on my nerves, and I like them both. I don't..”
Satoru stops him with a hand over his lips. Suguru's breath is warm, almost as hot as Satoru's own face is right now. It's not as if they don't declare their love for each other. They say ‘I love you’ enough that Shoko has dubbed them annoying, gross, codependent and a whole other number of negative things, but that's just how they are. They're still teenage boys though - and Satoru's stilted nature along with Suguru's general repression probably don't help - so this level of sincerity is.. overwhelming.
Suguru laughs against his fingers, and Satoru slowly pulls away while trying to find his own words again.
“I love you, Satoru. Just you. The way you are.”
Satoru doesn't really know how to answer, but his mouth seems to choose before his brain does.
“Do you really?” It's pathetic, he thinks, to require assurance like this. Suguru smiles, a little sadly, leans close to him to kiss him tenderly. When they separate, he whispers five tender words over his lips, equally loving.
“More than you'll ever know.”
He actually feels a little reassured when the next kiss comes.
“I just don't want you to hate me,” Satoru whispers, far too honest, voice quivering as his eyes threaten to overflow again. Suguru frowns deeply, eyebrows furrowing and his eyes full of something impossible to describe, before he speaks again.
“Satoru. I won't hate you.” He shuffles a little closer, to the point their breaths mingle and the only thing either of them can see are each other's eyes, “I'm going to love you. Until the day I die, I swear this to you. I can never hate you.”
“Don't talk about dying, idiot,” Satoru mumbles weakly, feeling all too open and all too raw to actually acknowledge the sentiment Suguru just offered him.
“It's okay, Satoru. You don't have to believe me right now. I just need you to know.” Suguru's hands cradle his face like he's a delicate piece of pottery, as if he'll shatter any moment, and Satoru fully believes he's right. His vision is so blurry that Suguru is nothing but a blob of golden skin and that stupid bang hanging over the deep brown of his eyes.
Satoru blubbers. “I– I, I..” his words repeat themselves meaninglessly, incapable of forming an actual sentence as he starts to sob and stumble through his feelings, and Suguru just presses kiss after kiss to his wet cheeks, until Satoru's breathless and still desperate to link their lips together.
“I love you, Suguru..” He sounds so snuffly and whiny that he wants to punch himself, but Suguru coos something at him and gently kisses him, finally going for his lips. The kiss starts as gentle as all the others, but halfway through there's a shift, and Suguru's basically kissing the life out of him. It's still tender and loving, but he just keeps moving, going in for more again and again, and Satoru's mourning the air he can't get into his lungs in the few seconds they stand apart before Suguru dives back in. It's so overwhelming. It's perfect .
He gasps loudly when Suguru finally gives him a bit of space to breathe, and the smile on the other's face makes him feel delirious(or is that the oxygen deprivation?).
“You see now? I love you,” Suguru kisses him again, gentle and soft, and Satoru is almost certain his lips are probably a little swollen by now.
Satoru immediately tucks himself into Suguru's neck when he pulls away, panting softly against his collarbone as he tries to regain some control of himself.
“I get it. I really get it, okay, so you can stop now..”
Suguru laughs softly, “I don't know, you did make me pretty jealous that time. We haven't been together in a while either..” a hand slides under his shirt while the suggestive words trail off, and Satoru lets out what he will never admit is a very embarrassing squawk.
“Suguru!” He squirms in his hold like a fish out of water, flustered beyond relief at even the implication of hooking up in the hotel room their teacher booked for them. Suguru laughs at him, the bastard.
“Do you not want to?” He asks, so earnest and tender and loving that Satoru can't bring himself to make a fuss despite his embarrassment, and he sighs before replying.
“Of course I want to..”
Suguru laughs again, maybe because of how long-suffering he sounds about the whole thing, but Satoru is happy to hear the sound even if it's at his own expense.
Suguru's happiness is always welcome, especially when it almost always comes together with Satoru's own.
-
They spend the night tangled together in the sheets, and in the morning Suguru insists on using some special curse to try to rectify the damage they've done to the hotel bed while Satoru sticks out his tongue and says he's too uptight. Yaga might complain later, but Satoru can't even bring himself to imagine that guy's nagging face when he's so sore and warm and loved . Whatever. Suguru will probably buy him sweets on the way back if he plays up his limping steps, so Satoru will be sure to make the most of it. Suguru will see through it, but he'll indulge him anyways, not because of guilt but rather because it's just in his nature to spoil Satoru, and they'll both go home with a box full of macarons to share with Shoko as an apology for the marks she'll be having to see on their necks for the next few days. She might even heal them if she feels nice enough. He laughs hard enough at the thought that Suguru has to hold him by the shoulder so he doesn't keel over.
He expects to look up and see exasperation, because Suguru has no idea what's so funny, but the fond look that meets him is so flustering that he immediately clams back up and straightens his back so they can keep walking home. There’s something in that softness, that open devotion and love, Satoru knows that Suguru's affection might just be lethal one of these days. He thinks he'll look forward to it - always with a stupid grin on his blushing face.