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Satoru Gojo was a diligent student.
He never slacked off, never turned in assignments late, and always prepared for exams weeks in advance. If he wasn’t in a library studying, he was either holed up in his dorm reading next week’s lecture content in advance or bothering his professors during their office hours. The little free time he had was spent with Suguru Geto. Satoru met Suguru during the first week of his freshman year in an introductory physics class. Satoru, a physics major and aficionado, was already familiar with the class content, jotting down equations and concepts in his notebook before the professor had even arrived. He looked to his right when he heard fabric shuffling and the chair next to him creaking, followed by a deep, exasperated sigh.
Satoru was met with the prettiest man he had ever seen. Long black hair cascading down a broad, muscled back. Forearms covered in thick, black tattoos that crept up his biceps and continued hidden under the sleeves of his shirt. Silver hoops and black gauges in his ears, a barbell through his right eyebrow, and a ring through his bottom lip. His sharp, honey colored eyes seemed tired, an annoyed countenance hidden behind a small, polite smile.
“Hi,” said the beautiful man, “I’m Suguru. What’s your name?”
“Uh, Satoru. Nice to meet you.”
Satoru was mesmerized. How lucky was he to be blessed with the presence of such an angel? The universe had deemed him worthy of such beauty, apparently, because he looked around and saw that not only was the rest of the front row empty, but so were the two rows behind him. This guy chose to sit next to Satoru.
“What’s your major?” Satoru asked.
“Philosophy.”
“Philosophy? Then why are you taking this class? Are you minoring in physics or something?”
“My parents think philosophy is a complete waste of time,” Suguru rolled his eyes, “so I told them I’d take this class to fulfill my physical science general education requirement.”
“Oh. Well if you ever have any questions, I’m your guy.” Satoru gave him a wink and a thumbs up, and was rewarded with a small huff of air through Suguru’s nose.
“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.”
Suguru turned back to his desk and started pulling out his laptop and notebook. Satoru stared at him a moment longer, then turned to his own notebook, the professor having finally arrived.
The two hour lecture dragged on, and as it neared its end, Satoru let his eyes wander in Suguru’s general direction. He looked down at his notebook and was shocked to see it lying open on the first page, untouched. Not a single pencil scratch on the paper and not a single eraser shaving on the desk. He looked back to his own notebook, already on the third page, ink on the pad of his finger and on the side of his hand. Suguru was staring at the chalkboard, his eyes glazed over as he seemingly daydreamed. His elbow rested on the desk as he held up his head in his palm.
There’s no way this guy has any clue about what’s going on. Unless, maybe he was a super secret genius like Satoru. But Satoru has a hunch that’s not the case. No one really understands physics the first time they learn it, of course with the sole exception of Satoru. This Suguru was definitely in for a treat.
As the professor ended the lecture and started packing up her notes, Satoru felt a tap on his arm.
“Hey, were you serious when you said you’d be my guy if I had any questions?”
Satoru glanced down once more at Suguru’s notebook. Suguru caught his eyes and promptly shut his notebook, shoving it deep into his backpack with a sheepish look on his face.
“Yeah man, of course. Not to brag or anything, but I’m kind of a physics genius. It’s my forte!”
“Not to brag, huh?” Suguru mumbled with an amused smile.
“We can be study buddies! We’ll help each other out and study together for exams.”
“How am I gonna be helpful to you? Why would you want to help me?”
“Well, this is my first year of college. I don’t really have any friends here yet, and you seem pretty cool.”
“Oh, so we’re friends now?”
“Yeah!” Satoru’s cheerful tone quickly subsided into a more reserved, abashed one. “I mean, um, if you want to be.”
Suguru gave him a reassuring smile. “Okay, friend. I’m a first year too, by the way. What was your name again?”
“Satoru. Satoru Gojo.”
“Well, Satoru,” Suguru took his phone from his pocket, opened up a new contact page, and handed it to Satoru. “Give me your number so we can plan our first study session.”
Satoru replayed the way he said his name over and over in his head, Satoru, Satoru, Satoru. The way it rolled off his tongue was enchanting. He inputted his number and saved his contact name as Satoru :P (the physics genius). He handed the phone back to Suguru and started packing up his things.
Suguru got up from his seat and waved at him, a small smile on his face.
“Bye, I guess I’ll see you around.”
Satoru, too tongue-tied from the interaction, made a small distinguished sound in his throat and quickly waved goodbye as Suguru left.
Over the course of the class, the two began hanging out outside of their designated study sessions, quickly becoming attached to the hip. Satoru had never met anyone who could rival his wit like Suguru. Suguru seemed like the perfect foil to him; where Satoru was loud, unfiltered, and outspoken, Suguru was calm, mindful, and reserved. But when they were together, they were a force to be reckoned with. Their friendship remained strong throughout the rest of the year, even throughout the summer when Suguru moved back to his hometown. Now, a month into their second year, they live together in the university dorms and spend all their free time with each other.
And the more time they spent together, the more Satoru became enamoured with Suguru. He felt his heart beat a little faster each time they hung out, the butterflies in his stomach flutter a little stronger. His beautiful best friend had him wrapped around his finger, was at his beck and call twenty-four-seven.
That’s why, Satoru now finds himself in Shoko’s apartment surrounded by loud music, booze, and his friends. A few are in the kitchen creating monstrous cocktails with too much vodka and too little mixer, a few are outside smoking, and everyone else is mingling, chatting with each other. Shoko had invited Suguru and Satoru to her impromptu get-together at her apartment an hour before it started. Suguru had begged Satoru to go with him.
“C’mon, Satoru! You’ve been in the room studying all day. It’s Saturday, for god sake! Let’s go to Shoko’s party together.”
“I have an exam coming up soon, dude. Go without me.”
“Satoru, your exam is in three weeks,” he deadpanned. “You can spare a few hours to hang out with your friends and not be a hermit.”
Satoru shot him a glare and scoffed. “Rude.”
Suguru rolled his eyes and started walking to the bathroom. “Whatever. I’m gonna start getting ready, and when I’m done, I’m dragging you out with me whether you’re ready or not.”
He heard the bathroom door click shut and brought his hands up to his face. Parties at Shoko’s usually meant a late night, and Satoru had been locked in the dorm studying the whole day. Plus, it seemed like Suguru really wanted Satoru to go with him, so how could he say no? He got up from his desk, picked out his clothes, and waited for the shower in the bathroom to turn off.
They made it to Shoko’s apartment, and as people slowly trickled in, Satoru stuck closer to Suguru’s side. He wasn’t the biggest fan of drinking, or parties for that matter, but having Suguru with him made everything a little better. And it helped that he looked incredibly delectable tonight.
Suguru was wearing black jeans that hung low on his waist and a black tanktop, broad shoulders and collarbones on display, the jacket that he walked in with long abandoned. His hair was tied in a half-up half-down style with his bangs framed around his face. He had rubbed some black eyeliner on his waterline, too, said he was trying something new. Satoru hoped that it would become a staple in his everyday look because the way it made his amber eyes pop had him weak in his knees. He thought he looked pretty good himself; a white t-shirt stretched across his muscled chest, blue baggy jeans, and hair styled the way it would look right after Suguru had ruffled it. He hoped Suguru was having the same thoughts about his look tonight.
As the party raged on, Satoru had somehow been dragged into playing some card game where one had to either do what was written on the card or drink. He was sitting on the floor of the living room in a circle with Shoko, Utahime, Nanami, Haibara, and of course, Suguru.
It was Satoru’s turn to pick a card. He had been able to avoid drinking so far, so he was hopeful his luck would continue. He leaned over the floor and picked up the top card from the deck.
“Take a tequila shot off the body of the person sitting across from you or take a shot for the number of people playing.”
What! This was an unfair card! Both options were drinking! Though, to be frank, there was no way he was about to down six shots of pure poison. He looked up from the card and noticed Suguru’s mouth hanging open in front of him. Satoru quickly felt the heat rising in his cheeks and buried his face between his hands. Of course, it had to have been Suguru. He felt the universe was playing a cruel trick on him.
“Oooh! Satoru has to take a shot off Suguru,” yells Haibara.
“Can you shut up? It’s part of the game, weirdo,” Suguru retorts. “Obviously he’s not gonna down six shots right now! If I pulled that card, I would definitely be doing the tequila shot, too.”
Satoru slightly raises his eyebrows and glances up at Suguru. He would do a tequila shot off his body? The thought of it sent a shiver down his spine. Stop imagining it, he thought, this is not helping your face cool down. Although, Suguru’s cheeks are quite pink, too. Is he blushing? No, no, he’s just… drunk. Yeah. Suguru has drunk a lot during the game. Suguru’s face always gets flushed when he drinks.
Satoru meets his eyes and is met with a coy smile.
“C’mon, you don’t wanna do the tequila shot? It’ll be fun,” he taunts.
Drunk Suguru is bold.
Satoru gives him an awkward chuckle and pours himself a shot of tequila. He gets up to grab the salt from the kitchen counter.
“Hey Shoko, you got any lime slices?”
“In the fridge. Number one rule of being host: be prepared for anything,” she responds, boasting a prideful grin.
As he walks back to the living room, he notices Suguru staring at him with an easy smile on his face. He quickly looks down at the salt shaker in his hand, but after a second, glances back up. Suguru catches his eyes and throws him a wink. He walks the rest of the way back to his spot with his eyes glued to the salt shaker.
“Where do you wanna sprinkle the salt on him?” asks Utahime.
“Um, anywhere is fine, I guess. Whatever Suguru’s comfortable with.”
“How about...” Suguru trails off as he leans over and grabs the salt from Satoru’s hand. He tilts his neck to the right and sprinkles a line of salt right above his collarbone. “...here?”
Satoru focuses hard on his neck. His face must be beet red by now.
“If you want.”
“Do you want?”
What. What is he saying? What is he implying?! How do I even answer that, he thinks.
“Um, I uh- I think if it’s what you want, then I, um, want it, too.”
He cocks an eyebrow towards him and smirks. Since when was Suguru this flirty? Surely, there’s no way this is really happening so he must be imagining it and this is all a dream and he’ll wake up soon–
“And I was thinking, the lime could go here.”
He lifts his hand up and points to his lips.
Satoru freezes. His eyes dart to Suguru’s lips. His piercing is shining softly under the light, lips moisturized from the balm that was applied earlier in the evening. He’s thought about what they would feel like brushed against his own; soft and pliant, maybe firm and powerful. Would he grab his face as their lips met, pulling Satoru into his embrace and inviting him to explore his taste? Would he brush his tongue gently across his lips, invade the deep warmth of his mouth? Satoru blinks out of his daze when he hears a whistle and cackling.
“Oh my god, Suguru!” Utahime is laughing as she repeatedly smacks her palm against her knee. Nanami grumbles something incoherent and drags his hands across his face. Utahime looks over to Shoko, who is covering her mouth from laughing so hard her throat hurts. The two share a quick glance, one that goes unnoticed, and turn to face Satoru.
“You heard him,” Shoko playfully taunts.
Satoru clears his throat and nervously stands up, the lime still in hand. He looks at Suguru, a mischievous yet eager glint in his eyes. They don’t break away from his as he walks towards him. Suguru crosses his legs, one foot placed over the other, to make room for Satoru. He sits down in front of him and hands the lime over to Suguru, watches him lift it to his lips. With the rind between his teeth, Suguru smiles a nervous smile, liquid courage suddenly fading.
“If you really don’t want to, you don’t have–“
Suguru’s sentence is cut off as Satoru leans forward towards his neck, both hands resting on the floor between his frame. He has waited so long to kiss Suguru. Okay, this wasn’t exactly a kiss, but it’s the closest possible thing. He moves his head down, and his tongue meets the warm skin above Suguru’s collarbone. He slowly moves his tongue, licking the short strip of salt off of his neck. Not even the bitter, burning sensation in his mouth can distract him from the soft puff of air Suguru breathes through his nose.
Satoru looks up, eyes locking with Suguru’s. His face is centimeters away from his. It would only take a mere movement forward, and the removal of an annoying lime, for their lips to touch. Suguru’s gaze moves down towards his mouth, then back up to his eyes. They are full of an emotion Satoru can’t quite place.
A cough comes from Haibara, who lifts his hand toward Satoru holding the tequila shot. “This is next.”
Satoru quickly pulls away from Suguru, heart beating faster than ever. He grabs the shot glass and downs it in one gulp. He then moves back in front of Suguru and leans forward before his heart beats out of his chest.
He slightly parts his lips, just enough to make room for the lime. As he bites through the skin, sour juice spilling into his mouth, his top lip brushes against Suguru’s. He looks up at Suguru and heat rises to his cheeks. His eyes are a dark, velvet brown, clouded over with desire and locked onto his. As Satoru begins to pull away, Suguru wraps his arms around his neck, pulling him closer, eyes now shut.
Satoru doesn’t know what to do. The rational part of his brain knows that this isn’t really a kiss, the lime still between their lips; that Suguru is probably drunk and won’t remember this the next day; that there are other people in the room, their close friends at that. But the other part of his brain, the part that has been infatuated with Suguru since he can remember, urges him to spit out the lime and finally, properly, kiss him; fully taste his sweet lips in all their glory; rest one hand on his cheek, the other at the base of his neck, fingers carding through his straight jet black hair.
Before he can decide which part of his brain he wants to listen to, Suguru pulls away, lime now in Satoru’s mouth.
“He barely bit into it, I had to make sure he got all the juice.” Suguru says sheepishly after being met with wide eyes and agape mouths from the group.
Satoru is staring at Suguru, a small smile tugging at his lips, cheeks and ears flushed. That was definitely an excuse. A horrible one at that. Could it be that his feelings have been reciprocated all this time? Could Suguru… like him? Lost in thought, he doesn’t notice the way Suguru’s eyes rake over his face, the curve of his neck, the veins protruding from his arms. He doesn’t notice the way Suguru’s fingers graze over his own lips, a lazy smile on his face.
“Okay, okay, we didn’t say anything,” Nanami throws his hands up in defense. “It’s my turn now, right?”
“Yeah, pick a card,” responds Haibara.
As Satoru is about to get up and walk to the kitchen to throw away the lime, Suguru whispers in his ear, low enough that only he hears,
“You did so good, Satoru.”
Mind still hazy from the almost-kiss, Satoru lets a vocal sigh escape his throat. He gets up and throws the lime away, cheeks beet red. As he sits back in his spot, he suddenly feels thankful that Suguru dragged him out tonight.
~~~~
It was nearing 12:30 in the morning. People were slowly leaving Shoko’s apartment, some going to other nearby parties, some going back to their homes. After finishing up the drinking game, Shoko decided to put on a movie in the living room for anyone interested in staying, some action flick Haibara had been raving about throughout the night. He and Nanami were sitting on the floor leaning against the couch, Shoko and Utahime were huddled on a beanbag, while Satoru and Suguru were sharing a blanket on the couch. A few stragglers moving in and out of the living room stopped and watched for a couple minutes, with the occasional guest sitting down to fully immerse themselves in the movie.
To be quite frank, Satoru had not been paying attention to the movie. Sure, he’s facing the TV and his eyes are glued to the screen, but his mind is elsewhere. More specifically, his thoughts are consumed by Suguru, and the fact that his thigh is a few measly inches away from his. They are so close, he feels his body heat radiating from his skin under the blanket. Every so often, Satoru steals a glance at Suguru and is met with his stunning profile. The piercing protruding from his eyebrow, the slope of his nose, and the sharp cut of his jawline are much more captivating than the movie currently on screen, he thinks.
Satoru’s eyes linger on Suguru’s face. He suddenly rips the blanket off his legs and stands, and Satoru tears his eyes away, scared that he’s been caught. He hears some clattering in the kitchen and the sound of a cupboard closing. Suguru returns with a glass of water. He sets it on the table in front of them and heads back into the kitchen. Satoru tunes out the movie once again and hones in on the kitchen sounds. The pantry door opening, chips being poured into a bowl, light footsteps quietly approaching the couch–
“What do you think of the movie so far?” Suguru whispers, breath warm and fanning across the nape of his neck where he snuck up behind him.
The hitch in Satoru’s breath doesn’t go unnoticed, eliciting a quiet giggle from Suguru.
“What? Did I scare you?”
“No… maybe.”
Suguru gently shoves his shoulder, a short huff exhaled through his mouth. Satoru doesn’t dare to turn around, worried that the distance between their faces will be far too close for comfort. His cheeks are already burning red, he doesn’t need to be teased any more!
“You didn’t answer my question, idiot.”
“Um, what was your question?” Satoru can practically hear his eyes roll.
“You liking the movie?”
“Um, yeah, the plot is really interesting, and the main character is really cool.”
“You think a psycho serial killer who murdered his wife and daughter is really cool?”
Damn. He really should have been paying attention to this movie.
Suguru moves from behind the couch and sits back in his seat. He stretches his arm around Satoru’s shoulders and pulls him against his side, his head resting on Suguru’s shoulder.
“You’re such an idiot, you’re totally not paying attention,” he whispers, pulling up the blanket to their chests.
Satoru would have usually dignified his reprimand with a clever quip, a guilty laugh, anything! But his mind is currently occupied with the thought of his cheek resting on Suguru’s shoulder, Suguru’s warm hand around his neck, their thighs glued to each other all the way down to their feet.
Satoru was never that fond of physical touch, the thought of skin on skin contact incredibly offputting. Hugs were repulsive, often being followed by extremely awkward moments. He never knew where to put his hands. Around the waist? Around the shoulder? He always worried about making the other person uncomfortable, if his palms were too sweaty, if his posture was too slouched. Satoru avoided other people’s touch as often as he could. It just wasn’t his thing.
But with Suguru, it was different. His touch was different.
Suguru was by nature an awfully touchy person, always grabbing Satoru’s shoulders, pulling him by the arm, resting his hand on Satoru’s knee. Suguru’s touch was hot, soothing. Satoru never had any of his usual concerns when he was touching him. His hands felt heavy, a gentle burning pressure on his skin leaving a fiery trail in its wake. He felt comfort, rather than anxiety. Satoru liked his touch. Only his touch.
So when he reeled back his thoughts from Suguru’s position next to him, Satoru couldn’t help but lift his legs up to his chest and nestle deeper into his side.
~~~~
As the movie credits rolled on the screen, Utahime stood up and dramatically yawned. Everyone else had left, including Nanami and Haibara (claiming the latter needed his beauty rest).
“Hey Shoko, I think I’m gonna sleep here tonight, it’s pretty late and I don’t feel like walking back to my dorm.”
Shoko glances at her phone. The screen reads 2:17.
“Geez, yeah. I didn’t realize how late it had gotten.”
“You guys can sleep here if you want,” she directs her words to Suguru and Satoru, “The couch is pretty comfy and I can grab extra pillows and blankets, though I’m not sure how much sleep you’ll get with Utahime and I in the other room,” she shoots Utahime a wicked smirk, causing her to erupt in a fit of giggles.
Satoru sighs. “Ugh, gross. We get it, you’re dating. You don’t have to rub it in our faces.”
“Oh, I bet you’ll be doing a lot of rubbing tonight–”
Shoko clamps her hand around Utahime’s mouth and shoves her toward the bedroom.
“Okay guys, thanks so much for coming! Suguru, make sure Satoru is safe on the way back!” She rushes out her words, throws them a cheeky grin, and quickly follows Utahime to the bedroom.
Satoru scoffs as he puts on his shoes. “What does she think I am, a damsel in distress? I can take care of myself, thank you very much!”
“Can you, Satoru? I mean, the night is still young. Knowing you, anything can happen,” Suguru sneers, grabbing his jacket from the coat hanger by the door.
“The night is not still young, Suguru, it’s two in the morning. I should be in bed getting a full eight hours of sleep for a full day of studying tomorrow.”
“You had fun tonight though, no? I thought I saw you smiling during the drinking game.”
Satoru feels heat spread in his cheeks. A moment of silence passes as Suguru waits for his answer.
“...Shut up.”
Suguru laughs a full body laugh, shoulders shaking and arms wrapped around his stomach. “You’re so stupid.”
They head out of the apartment, snickers still escaping Suguru’s lips as Satoru grumbles next to him.
The trip back to the university dorms is a short 10 minute walk. They walk side by side, hands occasionally brushing. The cool autumn night is accompanied by a brisk wind, and the quiet air between the two feels charged, electric. Satoru wraps his arms around himself, the cold a little too strong to bear. Suguru notices him shivering and unzips his jacket, removes it from his body.
“Here, you’re freezing,” he throws the jacket in Satoru’s hands.
“What? But then you’ll be cold, no?” he replies, arms sliding through the sleeves. It smells like Suguru.
“Please, you’re already wearing it. You don’t care if I freeze,” Suguru rolls his eyes and playfully shoves him away.
“You’re right. I don’t. If you were to drop dead from the cold I’d use your skin as a thermal jacket,” Satoru deadpans.
“What the fuck, you sick freak! What is wrong with you? Like, actually, what is wrong with you?”
They’re both laughing at each other’s silly remarks, and Satoru feels his heart swell. He is so fond of Suguru’s laugh. Once they calm down, a comfortable silence envelopes the air. A few minutes have passed when Suguru asks,
“So, why weren’t you watching the movie?”
Satoru is caught a little off guard. He turns to look at him and sees Suguru looking down at his feet, purposefully avoiding eye contact.
“I was distracted.” His response is vague, not the complete truth, but not a total lie either. He can’t very well just say he was daydreaming about Suguru, obviously.
…Right?
Satoru is a very logical person. As far as he knows, his crush on Suguru is unrequited. But he does know that his friendship with Suguru is not ordinary. Satoru has spent countless nights ruminating over the nature of their relationship. He has friends, Utahime and Haibara, he has best friends, Shoko and Nanami, and then he has Suguru. Suguru, who seems to fit into the “all of the above” category. Suguru, who rests his hand around Satoru’s waist when it’s just the two of them. Suguru, who gently scrapes his nails over Satoru’s scalp to soothe his ever-present migraines. Suguru, who lets Satoru sleep next to him during cold nights because he’s apparently “a human radiator,” and Satoru’s two blankets aren’t enough.
Satoru has observed Suguru with their friends, too. No one else shares the nature of their relationship. Suguru is a kind person, but even he has his limits. If he was annoyed or uncomfortable with Satoru, surely he would set some boundaries in their friendship. And that tequila shot tonight, what the fuck was that? That moment felt so sexually charged, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. That doesn’t happen between platonic friends. He’s never felt that nervous and excited in his life. The only reasonable explanation for their relationship is the fact that Suguru hopefully reciprocates his feelings.
“By what?”
Satoru musters up all the courage he has and says,
“You. I was distracted by you.”
Suguru huffs out a laugh.
“What’s so distracting about me, hm?” His voice has dropped half an octave, adorning a playful and seductive lilt.
Satoru dares a glance in Suguru’s direction and is met with his piercing gaze. His eyes are half-lidded, dark. His blush prominent on the apples of his cheeks, the corner of his mouth pulled up into a sly smirk. He’s breathtaking, he thinks.
Or, judging by the way Suguru’s eyes go wide and lips gently part into the shape of an “O”, he says. Out loud.
“Oh.”
Shit. He’s such an idiot. Sure, he was beginning to accept the idea of Suguru maybe having feelings for him, but he hadn’t meant to be that blunt right away. Well, there’s no going back now.
“You think I’m breathtaking?”
“I think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met.”
A strangled noise escapes Suguru’s throat as his hands move to cover his face. Satoru’s heart is beating out of his chest. The silence that ensues sparks immense doubt in his mind. Maybe he had it all wrong, maybe he was jumping to conclusions, maybe it was wishful thinking, believing that Suguru liked him in that way. Fuck, and now he had ruined the single most important relationship of his life, and everything would be awkward between them, and Suguru will inevitably start talking to him less and less, withdrawing himself from his life. And it’ll be so horrible living with him. He can’t handle that. He can’t imagine his life without Suguru–
He peers up at Satoru through the slits between his fingers. “Me too.”
And oh, his mind goes blank. “What?”
“I think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met, too.” His voice is just above a whisper, face illuminated by the yellow glow of the street lights. Suguru has never looked more divine.
“Really?”
“Yes, you idiot. Took you long enough to realize, jeez.” His hands are back to his sides, and Suguru gently pushes him away.
And, okay, fair enough. The signs had very clearly been there. But sue him for hesitating to make a move! Can’t a guy be a little skeptical of how his friend feels about him?
Satoru huffs out a puff of air, a private smile on his face. He reaches out and lets their fingers brush for a moment before lifting his hand and grabbing Suguru’s. His palm is warm, his grip tight.
“Is this okay, then?” Satoru whispers.
“Yeah.”
Satoru gently squeezes his hand and feels Suguru’s fingers spreading. He interlocks their hands and lightly swings their arms back and forth. The rest of the walk is silent, both of them too nervous to shatter the peaceful calm of the autumn night.
~~~~
As he walks through the door of their room, hands still interlocked, Satoru feels crazy. Like someone has plucked every single thought of Suguru he’s ever had from inside the folds of his brain, and has stamped them all over his body in visible ink for the whole world to see. Suguru, for better or for worse, does not seem to be experiencing the same inner turmoil as Satoru. Instead, his eyes are roaming over Satoru’s face, his body, seemingly reading the ink he has been branded with. He’s looking at Satoru like all his deepest darkest Sexy Suguru Secrets have been revealed, a powerful hunger shining through his eyes.
It seems like something has clicked in Suguru’s brain, something Satoru is too dazed to notice.
Suguru kicks off his shoes and leans down to untie Satoru’s laces with his free hand. Satoru can do nothing but stare. Can do nothing but watch as Suguru’s long fingers undo the knot and slowly pull the strings to loosen his foot from the shoe.
He stands up and turns to Satoru, gently tugging his hand. “C’mon.”
Satoru blindly follows and is led to Suguru’s bed. He sits on the comforter, and Suguru lets go of his hand to sit next to him, right leg folded underneath itself and left hanging off the mattress. He is facing Satoru, and Satoru is facing forward, eyes glued to his hands resting on his thighs. A minute passes.
“Satoru.”
He looks up. “Hm?”
“You’re quiet. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m just–I’m just thinking, that’s all.” He flashes Suguru a quick smile and looks back down at his hands. Another minute passes. Suguru shifts to lean on his arm, his free hand gently resting on Satoru’s, idly playing with his fingers.
“What are you thinking about?”
Satoru’s mind is currently in a state of disarray: ohmygod Suguru’s hand is on mine, does he really like me, he’s sitting so close, what if I ruin our relationship… Since meeting Suguru, Satoru has never felt more seen. Their one year together has shown him that, despite his past experiences, there are people who want to get to know him, people who care for him, people who cherish him. Would it really be worth the risk, to potentially ruin what he has with Suguru? Satoru could yearn for the rest of his life, he thinks, if it guaranteed Suguru by his side, nothing more than a friend. It would be enough, he thinks, to lock his heart away and admire from afar.
He takes a moment to gather his thoughts.
“I don’t want to ruin what we already have, I don’t want to ruin us.”
Suguru’s eyes soften, and his eyebrows slightly furrow together. “Satoru–”
“What if you get tired of me, huh? What if I do something–”
“Satoru.”
“–that makes you uncomfortable? I don’t think I could ever live with myself knowing that I hurt our relationship–”
“Satoru.”
“–that I hurt you, Suguru! And what if you end up hating me–”
His rambling is interrupted by a hand on his jaw, thumb below his bottom lip. Suguru roughly turns Satoru’s face towards him.
“Satoru.”
He holds his gaze for a moment, then,
“I don’t think you realize the effect you have on me, Satoru. I don’t think there’s a single bone in my body that could ever hate you.”
Satoru leans into his touch and whispers, “I’m scared, Suguru.”
Suguru cups his cheek with his other hand and gently pulls him closer, forcing Satoru to readjust himself and sit facing him. His thumb softly caresses his cheek, and Satoru closes his eyes to commit his touch to memory. Their faces are inches apart. Satoru can feel the warmth of Suguru’s breath when he speaks.
“Satoru, it’s okay to be scared, I’m scared too. But I know that my feelings for you run so deeply through my veins, it’s like you’re a part of my soul. You think I’ll get tired of you, but every second we spend together makes me feel a little insane, like I can’t live without you.”
Satoru opens his eyes, a little stunned at how intensely Suguru is looking at him. “Suguru…” he breathes out.
“You can’t get rid of me that easily, Satoru. You’re stuck with me.”
Satoru exhales a small laugh, dizzy from Suguru’s confession. He feels his heart thumping loudly in his chest, loud enough that maybe Suguru hears it, too. He drags his eyes across Suguru’s face. His eyeliner is a little smudged, and there’s a faint blush across his cheeks and nose. His lips look tantalizing, soft and full, piercing shining under the overhead light.
He wants to pull at it with his teeth.
Satoru forces his eyes away and looks back at Suguru, voice barely above a whisper, when he says, “What are you waiting for, then? Kiss me.”
Satoru doesn’t think he’s ever been more alive up until this moment. Suguru’s lips come crashing down onto his. It’s rough, and it’s hot, and it’s invigorating, and Satoru has half a mind to start moving his own lips. Their mouths move in tandem, pulling and nibbling, teeth scraping against each other’s lips.
What a fool he is, Satoru thinks, to believe he could have been satisfied with only having one part of Suguru. Because now that he’s had a taste of him, he doesn’t think he can ever go back. Suguru’s lips are worth every single risk. It’s like all this time he had been trapped in a desert, and he has at last stumbled upon an oasis, letting the water course through his veins and bring him back to life.
Satoru darts his tongue out and licks across Suguru’s bottom lip, playing with the silver ring. Suguru parts his mouth, inviting Satoru in, and moves his hands up into his hair, gently tugging at it from the root. Satoru makes a small noise and pulls Suguru in as close as possible. He runs his tongue across the roof of his mouth, his teeth, exploring the new sensations and the overwhelming warmth of Suguru.
Suguru pulls harder on Satoru’s hair, tilting his head up and drawing out a small moan from his throat.
“You make such pretty sounds, Satoru.”
He feels himself shiver at the words, feels the heat in his chest slowly travel south through his body. He wants to hear them again and again, wants to please Suguru in every possible way. Satoru is forced to rip himself away from him, so out of breath, chest heaving up and down. Suguru moves his lips onto his jaw, down his neck.
“Oh, you liked that, yeah? You like when I praise you, hm?”
“Suguru,” he pants.
“It’s okay, baby, I’ve got you. I’ll give you whatever you want.”
He licks a hot strip across Satoru’s neck and closes his lips on the spot above his collarbone. As he works his mouth on Satoru’s skin, he lets one of his hands fall down to Satoru’s chest, gently squeezing his left pec.
Satoru runs his hands all over Suguru, his neck, his chest, his arms, his waist. His brain is blank, the only thought running through his mind–Suguru, Suguru, Suguru. Suguru in his mouth, Suguru on his neck, Suguru in his hair. Satoru thinks that if he were to die right this instant, he would die a happy man, finally knowing the taste of his best friend's lips.
That is, to say, he wouldn’t mind going further with Suguru. In fact, he really fucking wished that would happen, preferrably tonight. He’s not picky, any day would work, really, but Satoru is about to lose his mind, and if Suguru doesn’t do something about it soon, he really will die.
Suguru, seemingly feeling the energy physically buzzing through Satoru, brushes his tongue one final time against the reddish-purple mark on his neck and lifts his head to meet Satoru’s gaze.
“Tell me what you want,” he breathes.
“Make me feel good, Suguru.” He leans forward and pulls him into a deep, passionate kiss. “I want you to fuck me like your life depends on it.”
Suguru huffs a small laugh, eyes brimming with hunger. “I think I can do that.”
He grabs the hem of Satoru’s shirt and lifts it up a little. “Let’s take this off first.”
Satoru pulls off his shirt in one fell swoop and does the same to Suguru, a little too eager to see his best friend shirtless. Suguru climbs on top of Satoru and pushes him down onto the mattress, nestled between his legs. Satoru’s hands run up across his forearms, admiring the beautiful ink on his body. He’s never had a definitive opinion on tattoos, but they make Suguru look delicious. They span his arms, chest, back, and ribcage, and Satoru wants to trace every single black line with his tongue. He catalogues that thought for next time.
Suguru leans over him and starts kissing his neck, slowly working his way down to Satoru’s chest. He lands on one of his nipples and sucks, laves his tongue across the skin. Satoru lets out a breathy moan and bucks his hips up against Suguru.
“Shit, that’s good,” he gasps.
Suguru thumbs at his other nipple and meets each of Satoru’s grinds with one of his own, the friction too addictive to stop. He works his mouth over his other nipple and eventually moves lower, kissing down the soft trail of white hairs below Satoru’s navel. He fiddles with the zipper of his jeans, and Satoru lifts his hips as Suguru pulls them off and tosses them to the floor. He eyes his erection and the wet spot on his underwear, then lightly trails his fingers up and down Satoru’s clothed cock.
“Look at you, already wet for me, so perfect,” he coos.
Satoru feels the warmth in his belly grow hotter as Suguru gives a gentle squeeze to his cock. “Fuck, don’t tease me.”
Suguru presses a soft kiss to his inner thigh and slowly pulls off his underwear. He stares at his dick, mesmerized by the way it twitches under his scrutiny. Satoru squirms under his intense gaze and lifts his arms over his face, trying to hide the growing blush on his cheeks.
“Don’t stare, weirdo.”
“But look, Satoru, it’s begging for my attention,” Suguru mocks.
“Fuck off,” Satoru swats his shoulder. “Well, get on with it, Mr. ‘I’ll give you whatever you want.’”
“You’re bossy.” Suguru grins as he finally, finally touches Satoru. He glides his fingers over the shaft of his dick, spreading the precum beaded at the tip, and lightly presses below the head. As he wraps his hand around Satoru’s cock, Satoru lets out a loud moan. The warmth of his hand sends tingles all throughout his body, electric shockwaves vibrating his nerves awake. Suguru starts moving his hand up and down, sets a slow pace, stroking his dick and tightening his grip when he moves upwards. He thumbs at the slit and Satoru whines, arching off the bed.
Satoru’s had a couple hand jobs, and he’s no stranger to masturbation, but as he stares at Suguru working his dick, he doesn’t think he has ever felt this euphoric. He can see the ardent lust and devotion in Suguru’s eyes, and Satoru could get off just by looking at his face, he thinks. The way he feels loved and treasured by Suguru leaves him stupefied.
Suguru rests his other hand on Satoru’s hip and rubs small circles, thumb slightly scratching his skin.
“You look so beautiful like this, Satoru.”
Suguru moves up to kiss Satoru, hand still working below him. The kiss is different from the first one, more passionate than lustful, full of love and overwhelming adoration. It’s gentle, as though Suguru is savoring every moment–the way Satoru’s lips move, the way he tastes, the warmth of his mouth. He slowly releases his grip on Satoru’s cock, prompting an annoyed groan from Satoru, and trails his hand down until he reaches his hole. His fingers brush over his entrance and Satoru pushes down into the touch as he moans Suguru’s name.
“Do you have lube and a condom?”
“In the top drawer of my nightstand,” Satoru huffs out as he catches his breath.
Suguru leans over to the nightstand and opens the bottle, warms the lube between his fingers. He moves back over Satoru and slowly pushes in his middle finger, watches as Satoru’s mouth drops open and eyebrows furrow, a broken moan escaping his lips.
“Suguru.”
“That’s it, baby. You’re being so perfect for me, you’re taking me so well.”
As Suguru works him open, Satoru runs his fingers through his hair, pulls him up so they’re face to face.
“Kiss me again.”
He feels Suguru’s lips on his before he’s even finished the sentence. They kiss, lazy, like they have all the time in the world. Satoru writhes under his touch as Suguru adds another finger. His fingers brush against the small bundle of nerves nestled within his walls and Satoru feels an electric shock run through his body. A moan is ripped from his throat, high and whiny, as he clenches around Suguru’s fingers and bucks his hips.
“Fuck, do that again, that felt so good!”
Suguru continues rubbing against the spot as he sucks a mark under Satoru’s ear. Satoru doesn’t know what to do with himself. He’s never experienced pleasure this intensely before, legs thrashing around as he focuses all his energy on not cumming on the spot.
Suguru spends his sweet time opening Satoru up, and once he’s loose enough and Satoru is on the brink of fucking insanity, he finally pulls away to undo his belt and takes off his jeans and underwear.
Now, Satoru knows what a dick looks like, obviously, he has one himself. He’s never really thought anything of it. He thinks it looks like a regular dick, nothing to be embarrassed of. But Suguru, Suguru’s dick is like a work of art. It belongs in a museum, he thinks. Deserves to have its grandeur captured through renaissance paintings, deserves marble replicas that rival the brilliance of Greek statues. Suguru’s dick is beautiful. Satoru doesn’t know what he expected, truly, because every other aspect of Suguru is also beautiful. Why wouldn’t his dick be, too? He gives it a couple strokes as he uses his other hand to push open Satoru’s legs.
“Who’s the one staring now, huh?” Suguru smirks, and Satoru can’t even think of anything to say back, too fixated on the man in front of him.
He grabs a condom from the nightstand and rips it open. Suguru slowly pushes in all the way to the hilt in one smooth motion. Satoru’s eyes roll back as he cries Suguru’s name. He lets him settle for a moment, both of their chests heaving as they catch their breaths. He pulls out until only the tip is resting inside, and as he slowly pushes back in, Suguru leans down over Satoru and lets their lips collide. The motion causes him to press deep into Satoru, and Satoru wraps his legs tightly around Suguru’s waist.
“Fuck, Satoru,” he moans, and that does something to Satoru. Hearing his lover weak like that, weak because of him, makes him feel high. As Suguru slowly picks up the pace, thrusting in and out, Satoru is unable to keep his mouth closed, a steady string of noises falling from his lips. They are not so much kissing anymore, but panting into each other’s mouths, Satoru’s arms wrapped around Suguru’s neck.
Satoru feels the heat pooling in his stomach, skin on fire where it meets Suguru’s touch. He feels the pressure building.
“S’guru, ‘m close, please,” he whines.
“I know, baby, I can feel it. I can feel you pulsing around me. You’re doing so good, Satoru, you’re almost there. You can do it.”
Satoru is so close, he thinks he’s going to implode. Suguru thrusts against his prostrate and wraps a hand around his cock, gives it a stroke, but ultimately, he thinks it’s his voice saying, “Cum for me, baby,” that sends him over the edge.
Satoru feels his whole body spasm, stars behind his eyes, as he cums hard, spilling onto his chest and stomach. He feels Suguru’s thrusts grow sloppy, and he follows soon after, groaning into Satoru’s neck. He collapses on top of Satoru as they catch their breaths, and Satoru relishes the sweet warmth surrounding his body.
They stay like that for a few minutes, neither of them wanting to ruin the comfortable silence. Suguru eventually rolls off of him and walks to the bathroom, but Satoru’s limbs feel like they’re made out of lead, so he just lies on the bed and closes his eyes. He hears water running and shortly after, Suguru returns with a warm washcloth. He wipes Satoru clean and then himself, and throws it into the hamper near the bed.
As Suguru slips under the covers, he pulls Satoru to his chest and wraps his arms around his waist. Satoru snuggles into his neck and lets out a deep sigh. He feels content, loved, and happy. He thinks about the events of tonight that led him to this point, about Shoko’s party, the walk back to their dorm, and Suguru’s confession. Satoru had spent the entire time he had known Suguru coming to terms with the fact that they would never be more than friends, that Suguru would never see him in that light. He’s never been more grateful to have been wrong. Hearing Suguru say that he couldn’t live without him, that his feelings for him are that sincere, made him feel like the luckiest man on Earth.
Satoru nuzzles his face further into Suguru’s neck and whispers, “Hey, Suguru.”
“Yeah?”
“Y’know, I didn’t get to say it before, but ever since you walked into that physics class last year, I think I’ve been in love with you.”
Satoru feels his pulse quicken against his cheek and smiles to himself.
“Satoru…” His voice is so soft, so tender. He presses a kiss to his forehead. “I love you, Satoru.”
“I love you, too.”
A few moments pass, then, “Does this mean we’re boyfriends now?”
Suguru lets out a small chuckle. “Yes, we’re boyfriends now.”
Satoru hums in acknowledgement and closes his eyes, exhaustion finally taking over. As he drifts off to sleep, he feels Suguru give him one last squeeze.
He looks forward to waking up in his boyfriend’s arms tomorrow.