butterfly house

by haysel

Summary:

The knocking continued persistently as he went to unlock it. It stopped when he heard the click, and then Suguru was opening the door.

Satoru barreled through the door as soon as the knob turned, as though he also had a hand on it, pushing it open. Suguru scrambled back from the door, and Satoru threw himself into Suguru’s arms with so much force that Suguru stumbled a few steps until his back hit the wall.

“Holy shit, Satoru,” he shouted, hands coming up to grasp his arms. “You animal, what the hell are you doing!”

_____

Suguru and Satoru had been best friends since childhood. Suguru is in love with him, and that complicates things.

“Now what the hell is that?”

Suguru smiled, still holding the paper between his fingers as he looked down at it. “It’s a picture, Shoko.”

“I can see that, except for that I might argue that it’s a dark omen.” Her tone was flat, but joking. “Is that a picture you drew as a kid? Why do you have it and not your mom or something?”

Suguru pinned it to the bulletin board that was leaning against the wall on his desk. He went back to the box to finish unpacking the rest of his desk materials. “I didn’t draw it.”

Shoko came to stand beside him, bending over to peer at it. “What is it? A bug? Wait—no, it’s two bugs.”

Suguru’s smile widened. “It’s two bugs,” he confirmed. “They’re caterpillars, crawling toward one of those enclosures for kids to see turn into butterflies. Although, one is very specifically a woolly bear, and don’t let Satoru hear you forget it.”

“That’s what that box is?” She laughed. “What is this?”

Suguru set down a stack of post-it notes and pointed toward the caterpillar on the left, the woolly bear. “Me,” he said, and then dragged his finger toward the other one, which held an uncanny resemblance to a caterpie Pokemon. “Satoru.”

Shoko blinked, silent for a moment, and then she snorted. She leaned back and went back to the box she’d abandoned when she saw the drawing in Suguru’s hand. She dragged it along the floor toward the closet door. “Of course it is,” she said, grunting with effort.

Suguru moved over to her to help her push it toward the far end of the room. “Thanks,” he said, “but you don’t have to take it over there.”

“It’s alright, I can do it,” she said. She straightened up and dusted off her palms. “Did he draw that when you were kids?”

“We’d just caught two caterpillars that I was keeping in my room. He brought that to school with him the next day.”

Shoko looked over him with a raised eyebrow, as though she couldn’t hide or contain her disgust with him. “And you hang it up in your room at your grown ass age of twenty-six?”

“It’d feel wrong to get rid of it,” he said. 

He bent down to tear open the flimsy tape on the box. It was full of clothes and other items he needed to put in the closet. One of his belts flung out, stuffed inside without being folded. Satoru had probably packed it.

Shoko looked as though she wanted to comment on this, but she didn’t. She just hummed, a cross between amused and pitying. She turned to head back out to the moving van that was sitting outside the building of his new apartment.

Suguru went to follow her, glancing at the drawing as he passed by his desk. Maybe it was stupid, or childish, to keep something like that. He’d keep it anyway—he thought he earned some comforts, given his position. It had seemed that Shoko thought so too, since she didn’t say anything. And not saying something to make fun of him was not typically her style.

They finished bringing the boxes in, each one moved to the correct room. He’d opened a few and put some things away as they went, just to get it started and also to make sure he knew what was in what so that he could start settling in. He wouldn’t have very much time to unpack, and would have to live out of some of the boxes for a few weeks. It was alright though. The move was necessary.

Shoko was slumped onto the couch, half lying down and half sitting up. She was chewing on the end of a lollipop stick, flicking it as she scrolled on her phone. Suguru assessed the room.

“Takeout?” He asked.

Shoko nodded. “Takeout.”

Suguru went to pull out his phone, but as he was about to start an order, it began to ring. He answered it. “Hey.”

“Hey,” came Satoru’s eager voice. “You’re here?”

“I’m at home,” he corrected.

“New home?” Satoru prodded.

“New home,” Suguru agreed, and Satoru gave a small cheer. He went to go sit beside Shoko on the couch. He put Satoru on speaker phone so he could talk and order at the same time.

“I’ll be done with work in like forty minutes. I’m coming when I’m done.”

“We’re getting takeout. Want some?” Suguru was already queueing up their usual, including Satoru’s. 

“Yes, please,” he said. His voice wasn’t particularly jovial, but it still seemed to exude excitement. Suguru smiled, since he was in the privacy of his own home, and Shoko was ignoring them both. “Are you moved in? Do you need help still?”

“No, Shoko and I finished up.”

“Sorry I couldn’t help,” Satoru said. “I tried to get out of the meetings today, but there were so many, and they all wanted me there for all of them.”

“I understand, Satoru,” he replied, half-soothing, half-dismissive as he put the order through. 

“I mean it,” he insisted.

“I know.”

“Ugh, you’re using your patronizing voice.”

Suguru laughed. “I’m ordering our food. And I know you wanted to come. It’s ok that you couldn’t.”

“Hm,” Satoru grunted softly. “Facetime me. Show me the apartment.”

Suguru went back to his phone and facetimed him instead. He angled the phone just to show his forehead and his eyes. Satoru answered immediately, face so close to the phone that Suguru immediately took a screenshot.

“I heard that,” Satoru said halfheartedly. He waved his hand. “Show me the apartment, not your ugly mug.”

Suguru huffed but flipped the camera so he could pan over the living room. Satoru oo’d and ahh’d at all of the appropriate times and then fake gagged when Suguru panned over to Shoko. She flipped off the camera and went back to her phone. 

Suguru leaned back into the cushion and flipped the camera back to himself. 

“Who helped you move the couch?” Satoru asked. “Couldn’t have been Shoko and her twig arms.”

“Excuse you,” she said.

“Nanami came during his lunch break,” Suguru answered. He pulled the elastic out of his hair that had been holding it back from his face. He shook his hair out, fingers prodding at the spots on his head that felt stiff and achy. “He helped me with the furniture.”

“Oh,” Satoru said, sounding disappointed. “I didn’t know he was coming.”

“Only for like, an hour,” Suguru said, leaning his head back. “His building is only a five minute drive.”

“It’s that close?” Satoru cried. “Not fair! Mine is like ten!”

“How do you know, you haven’t been here yet,” Suguru muttered.

“I mapped it from your location obviously.” Satoru said it like duh. “It’s ok though. My apartment is like three minutes.”

“Damn,” Suguru said half-heartedly. “Should have picked a farther one.”

“Shut up,” Satoru retorted immediately, though his voice became distracted. He was looking away from the screen. “Ah—god, ok! I’m coming.”

Satoru peered back down at the camera. Even in the shitty selfie-camera quality his eyes were piercing. “I’ll be there in like forty-five minutes, traffic laws be damned. Keep my food in the microwave for me?”

“Yeah,” Suguru said. “Don’t break traffic laws. I’m not spending my first night here waiting for you in the ER, or bailing you out of jail.”

Satoru laughed, and it almost sounded giggly, like he was excited again. “I’m so happy you’re here. I’ll see you soon.”

“Bye,” Suguru said, unable to help but soften his voice. Satoru hung up and he tossed his phone aside. He shut his eyes. “And Shoko, shut the fuck up.”

She snorted. “Didn’t say anything.”

It was quiet between them for a few moments. Regardless of the silence, Suguru’s mind was a mess. His heart was thumping in his chest, not flustered as much as just eager. 

“However—” 

Suguru rolled onto his side, grabbing one of the throw pillows as he went and smothered her with it.

She burst out laughing, shoving at him and writhing away from the pillow. “Okay, okay!”

Suguru rolled back into his spot and lay there for a moment, in silence. Then he let out a groan, loud and miserable. He covered his face with his hands.

“Seeing you like this is quite pathetic,” she pointed out, still laughing. She hugged the pillow he’d tried murdering her with. She tossed the lollipop stick into the small garbage can on the side of the sofa.

“I know,” he said, dropping his hands from his face. 

“Hanging up childhood photos, moving a whole two cities over—”

“I get it,” he replied, moving to sit up. Then he sighed. “I know.”

Shoko hummed. “What are you thinking?”

Suguru shrugged lightly and then got up to start unpacking another living room box. It was mostly decor and electronics for his entertainment center.

“Tell me,” she prodded. “It’s not something you’ll be able to avoid.”

“I’m thinking that I’m pathetic,” he said.

She moved off of the couch and settled in front of the tv to help him set it up. She began organizing all of the cords. “We both already knew that. What else?”

Suguru shot her an unimpressed stare. 

“It’s not pathetic,” she acquiesced, despite having accused him of it only a few moments prior. “I think it’s nice, actually. It sucked, you being the only one not here with us.”

Suguru hummed.

“And Satoru was miserable,” she said, not looking at him as she plugged in the power strip. “He spoke about it constantly. And had these weird episodes, when he’d just not talk to anyone. Though, honestly, what seemed more episodic was when he wasn’t like that. More often than not, he was avoiding everyone else.”

Suguru nodded. He knew that. He could tell that it was happening because Satoru always acted weird with him, too. “He didn’t want to ask me to move, even though he would always ask.”

“Not seriously,” she said in agreement. “He didn’t want to ask you seriously.”

Suguru nodded again. “He did once, at the very beginning though. I couldn’t, at the time.”

“How’d you pull it off? Won’t it be hard to finish school while two cities away?”

“Not really,” he said. “It’s mostly practice and field work, and it’s a lot of online stuff rather than class time. The classes I have are online anyway.”

Shoko was quiet for a moment. “On purpose?”

Suguru didn’t say anything.

Shoko sighed. “You guys are crazy.”

“Yeah,” he muttered.

“Why didn’t you just move in together?” She asked. She took a stack of game cases that Suguru had pushed over her way. “Wouldn’t that be easier?”

“He’s in a one bedroom,” Suguru pointed out. “We’d have to both move somewhere new. Besides, he’s a big boy, and so am I. We don’t need to live together.”

“You did during university,” she reminded. “You guys were attached at the hip, too.”

“It’s been three years,” he said. “Things change.”

“Not that many things,” she replied, though she didn’t look at him while she said it. “I think he wanted you to ask to move in together.”

“Then he should have asked.”

“Would you have said yes?” Her voice was challenging. She put down the games and turned to look at him. 

Suguru met her stare. “Probably.”

“So you both would have said yes if the other asked, and you both wanted the other one to be the one to ask that question?”

“It seems so,” Suguru said. He turned back to the box.

She let out a laugh, though it sounded more incredulous than humorous. “You guys are freaks. Freaks that make no sense.”

“We’re fine,” Suguru said. “We’ve been friends forever. It’s good this way.”

“I don’t think so,” she said, “since you both seem half miserable with the current arrangement.”

“He’ll be fine now that I’m here,” Suguru said, trying to be dismissive with his tone. He didn’t want to speak about it any longer.

“Will you?”

“Yes,” Suguru said firmly.

“Alright,” she said dubiously. She went back to lining up the games onto the small shelf that held his tv. 

They continued on in a relative silence after that. While they worked, Suguru’s mind wandered. He did think of her question, despite the fact that he hadn’t wanted to discuss it. Being fine was an interesting question, he thought. It implied that something was wrong, and he didn’t feel like anything was wrong at all.

Perhaps it was the fact that things had always been fine between them. Suguru and Satoru had been friends for so long. Practically as long as Suguru could remember. He could barely remember a time without him. Even when they went to different schools, they still had so much time together. Maybe that had been why nothing seemed wrong about their friendship. Being away from each other, in different places, had never really done very much to work in separating them.

When Satoru would go to his elusive private school for elementary and middle school, he still came to Suguru’s neighborhood to play. He still avoided all of his own peers at school as though they disgusted him. They weren’t fun enough, he’d say. And middle school was even worse. He hated them, and made sure everyone knew it. 

Suguru could even remember birthday parties that were incredibly awkward, in which he started to feel responsible for Satoru’s terrible manners. He’d practically ignore every other person at the party, and every time someone else tried to get in on whatever it was they’d been doing, Satoru would give them the bitchiest glare he could muster up.

To make up for it, Suguru was always extra polite, and included people when they joined in. It drove Satoru crazy, and they’d had multiple arguments about it. It’s not fair, he’d say. It wasn’t fair that he had to be forced to spend time with people he didn’t want to, just because his parents wanted him to. He didn’t owe them anything, he’d say.

Suguru could see where he was coming from, in a sense. But even still, he felt like he had to make up for it. Those kids hadn’t asked for his bad attitude.

When they’d gone to college together, they roomed together, and it had been nice. Perfect, even. They’d gone to the same high school, by some miracle, and being together had made it more difficult to be apart. College had given them the proximity they’d always wanted. Suguru especially. Satoru had his own thing about being close and being friends, but Suguru’s felt different. Satoru was the sort of person that was difficult to read, in that way. Suguru had always felt that his emotions were better safe to his chest than open and sorry for it.

They graduated, and Suguru had gone to grad school. Satoru had taken over a branch of his family’s company. The branch was two cities and a long subway ride away.

It had been weird. Satoru was busy, and Suguru was busy, and that subway ride seemed more like an ocean. They spoke frequently, but apparently, it hadn’t been enough for either of them.

They’d met Shoko in university, and became friends. That had been weird, too. Satoru struggled getting along with anyone, and when he enjoyed Shoko’s company, Suguru had his own arc of thoughts, feelings, and crises that he’d never thought he would have to have. At first, he’d thought maybe Satoru was having his own awakening of romantic feelings, but he found that it wasn’t that. She didn’t impose, and that, apparently, had been all Satoru needed to let someone in. 

Suguru, eventually, learned that nothing had changed between them. Satoru was still Satoru, even if Shoko was also there sometimes. They’d met a few other people too that Satoru didn’t seem to mind. Suguru got along with them better, as had always been the case, but he was proud of Satoru for his new efforts to get along with people, no matter how successful or unsuccessful he was. 

Somehow, they’d all ended up where Satoru was. Nanami and Haibara had ended up in the same city after Nanami got a similar job as Satoru. They weren’t in the same company, but the same realm. Haibara had followed Nanami, since they’d been together since they were in college. 

Shoko had also found herself there, too. She was doing her residency there after Satoru had gotten her in with the teaching hospital. Suguru, despite knowing it was unfair to feel that way, felt mildly insulted. There was no reason for it—there were no positions or opportunities for Satoru to find him an in anywhere, but it still stung somehow.

It hadn’t hurt much, though, since Satoru started saying the same things.

“I wish you were the one coming,” he’d say unabashedly, in front of Shoko.

Suguru would gracefully tell him that was rude, despite an embarrassingly sick pleasure at the comment. Shoko never took it personally. That was why she was allowed to hang out with Satoru, really. She didn’t care that Satoru only really liked Suguru. 

Then, blessedly, Suguru had taken all of the classes he needed in person, he had his internship lined up in Satoru’s city (without any networking from Satoru), and had gotten a job, too. It was a job he was hoping would turn into more of a career when he was done with his grad program. It was in his field, already.

Telling Satoru had been one of the highlights of his entire life. Satoru had nearly cried, and if Suguru had any doubts about their friendship, and whether it would last the way he wanted it to last, those worries had been washed away.

The only problem, however, was the fact that Suguru was also in love with him.

Suguru’s phone chimed, and he checked it to see that the takeout had arrived. He stood up and made his way to the door. He opened the door, picked up the tied bag that had been left at the door, and he brought it into the kitchen.

He could hear Shoko getting up and following him inside. She helped him set it out and put it up onto the small kitchen table. It was a small apartment, but cozy. It would be a tight fit, but Suguru couldn’t care less. In fact, he might have accepted a cardboard box at that point.

Suguru put Satoru’s food into the microwave to keep it warm, as promised. He sat down across from Shoko.

“Maybe Satoru would agree to dating you even if he’s not in love with you,” Shoko said suddenly. “I bet he’d kiss you. The rest of what two people would do in a relationship he already does.”

Suguru stared at her. “What the fuck,” he said.

She shrugged, breaking her disposable chopsticks to bring her noodles up to her mouth. “I mean, I think he’d honestly live inside of your skin if he could.”

Suguru rolled his eyes and broke his own chopsticks. “Man, what the fuck ever.”

She laughed.

They ate in silence, and Suguru tried not to think about how horrifyingly terrible it would be to be in a relationship with Satoru when he didn’t like him back, but put up with it just because he didn’t mind. In fact, that sounded like Suguru’s personal hell. And, damn Shoko for being right, it was painfully close to the current reality. Maybe Suguru was already in hell.

Suguru was just about to finish his food when the sound of the front door handle rattling broke the quiet. It was followed by a thunderous and insistent knocking when the door didn’t budge.

Shoko smiled wryly. “You gonna get that, or should I?”

“I’ll get it,” Suguru said, pushing away from the table. “Though I have no clue who it could possibly be.”

Shoko snorted. “It’s best you get it. He’d probably throw me a foot into the nearest wall to get through me.”

Suguru walked out of the kitchen, smile hidden as he made his way to the front door.

The knocking continued persistently as he went to unlock it. It stopped when he heard the click, and then Suguru was opening the door.

Satoru barreled through the door as soon as the knob turned, as though he also had a hand on it, pushing it open. Suguru scrambled back from the door, and Satoru threw himself into Suguru’s arms with so much force that Suguru stumbled a few steps until his back hit the wall.

“Holy shit, Satoru,” he shouted, hands coming up to grasp his arms. “You animal, what the hell are you doing!”

Satoru hugged him so tightly it hurt, nuzzling his cheek into Suguru’s. He was wearing a suit, and had sunglasses resting on top of his head, and they had fallen enough to somehow dig into Suguru’s temple.

“Ow, Satoru, get the fuck off—” He shoved at Satoru’s shoulders, but he still didn’t release his grip.

Eventually, Suguru succumbed to it and started to laugh. He reached up to pull the sunglasses off of Satoru’s head so they stopped poking painfully into his own scalp. He held them gently, since he was certain they cost probably a third of his rent at least. He hugged Satoru back. 

It hadn’t actually been that long since they’d seen one another. The subway ride was long enough to make the distance feel great, but only compared to how close they’d been before. It wasn’t long enough that they’d ever gone that long without hanging out. Even still, a bystander might have thought it’d been years if they’d seen the reunion.

“Missed you,” Satoru said quietly, just low enough that Shoko wouldn’t be able to overhear from the kitchen. 

Suguru softened even more. He was immune to most of Satoru’s charms, but not all of them. He squeezed him. “Missed you, too.”

“I never have to miss you again,” Satoru said, rubbing his cheek into Suguru’s again. 

“You’re not getting a key,” Suguru lied. He said it yet he already had made a key for him. No one knew that except him, until Satoru gracelessly and inevitably told everyone. Satoru didn’t know yet either, though. He’d give it to him when Shoko left.

“Suguru,” he griped. “I want one.”

“Too bad,” Suguru said, patting him hard on the back. “You can’t just have free range in my apartment.” You can.

Satoru reached up to tangle a hand in his hair and he pulled hard. Suguru jerked, reaching up to return the favor. Satoru wrestled Suguru until they were both on the ground and Suguru’s head smacked painfully into the corner of the doorway between the short hall and the kitchen.

“Oh Jesus Christ,” Shoko muttered. 

Suguru had an arm around Satoru’s throat and Satoru was elbowing him in the stomach. “I have neighbors, you ingrate,” Suguru strained.

Satoru squirmed his way out of the chokehold and then laid on top of him right there on the floor. Suguru let his head thunk back against the wood, and he was sure his face was turning red. Shoko snorted again and muffled it.

“I’m so excited to get you noise complaints!” Satoru cheered. “Life is great!”

Suguru shoved him off and rolled out from underneath him. “Grown ass man,” he snarked, turning to the microwave and yanking it open. “Eat your dinner before I kick you out.”

Satoru popped up like they hadn’t just wrestled like teenagers. He came over to the microwave and let out another cheer at what he found. He grabbed it out of the microwave and brought it to the table. He pushed Suguru’s food aside and sat down in his seat. He started eating with no preamble.

“That’s where I was sitting,” Suguru deadpanned.

“Sorry,” Satoru said, very unapologetically. 

Suguru lifted his hands and almost started choking him, but held back. He dropped his hands back down to his sides and looked at Shoko. She was watching Satoru with an expression that looked slightly amused but mostly disgusted and unimpressed.

“If you didn’t wear designer everything and have uniquely coveted features, people would think you were raised in a barn.”

Satoru swallowed his food and shot her a charming, handsome smile. “You think I’m hot, huh?”

Suguru, for embarrassing and shameful reasons, felt a puttering in his heart. It was the most innate, base part of him, his id and ego, that thudded with a resounding yes, while his higher self, his superego so to speak, wanted to choke Satoru again.

Shoko was unaffected by this accusation. She blinked owlishly at him. “I clearly said that if it wasn’t for your clothes and the fact that you have light hair and eyes, people would think you were an animal.”

Satoru laughed and took another bite. “It’s ok, you can say it. If it wasn’t for my dashing good looks, you wouldn’t be so enamored with me.”

Shoko looked to Suguru. “Actually, I think the only one who said that was you.”

“Add delusional to the list,” Suguru said. He picked up his bowl of noodles and took them to drain the broth in the sink. Wrestling with Satoru, and seeing him if he was being honest, had stolen the rest of his appetite. He dumped the rest of the noodles into the garbage after draining them.

“You didn’t finish,” Satoru said. “Because I took your seat?”

“No, I was already done,” Suguru assured. He turned around to lean against the counter.

Satoru nodded, placated, and went back to continue eating. 

Suguru smiled when he wasn’t looking, and resolutely ignored Shoko’s searching expression.

When they were all done eating, they spent the rest of the evening in Suguru’s living room, unpacking the rest of his things and setting up all of his electronics. Satoru seemed particularly excited for this part of the night. Suguru knew that it was because it was symbolic to him. It was all of the nights they spent in Satoru’s basement, playing games and watching movies even though they had school the next morning. It was the nights in their dorm when they’d cozy up on one of their beds and then watch anime on Satoru’s laptop.

Shoko was on her phone, laying on the couch while Satoru tasked himself with setting it up with no help whatsoever. Suguru was working on the rest of the room, folding up his blankets, and decorating the coffee table with his remotes and coasters. He also had a small desk set up in his living room, and he set that up too.

The sun had just set when Shoko stood up, stretched, and groaned when a few of her joints cracked. “I’m getting the fuck out of here,” she said. “It’s late, my body hurts, and I have a twelve hour shift tomorrow.”

Suguru moved to walk her to the door. “Thanks for helping me move in,” he said.

She nodded, meandering over to the front of the apartment. “Bye Satoru,” she called half-heartedly.

“Bye,” he called back, barely paying attention as he cursed and bumped his head on one of the shelves.

Suguru smiled as he opened the door to let her out. She slid her slippers off and kicked them toward the door. She stuffed her feet into her sandals and looked at Suguru. “Need anything tomorrow?”

“No,” he said. He reached out to grasp her hand and squeeze it. “Thanks for today,” he repeated. “I’ll see you soon.”

She squeezed his hand back and left. He shut the door behind her and locked it again.

When he turned around, Satoru was standing at the end of the hallway, watching. He was so loud, but always managed to sneak up on Suguru.

Suguru raised an eyebrow in question, taking in Satoru’s intense expression.

“What?” Suguru asked, when Satoru didn’t say anything.

Satoru moved over to him and hugged him again, though that time, he was significantly gentler.

Suguru returned the hug, smiling over his shoulder. Satoru tucked his head against Suguru endearingly. He pet Satoru’s hair, fingers sliding into his hair. “What’s up?” He asked quietly after a few moments.

Satoru hugged him tighter, turning his face until Suguru could feel his nose catching in the locks of his hair. “Happy,” he said.

Suguru hummed, squeezing him back. “Me too.”

“I missed you,” he said.

“I missed you, too.”

Satoru sniffed, like he didn’t believe Suguru. “I missed you more than you missed me.”

He sincerely doubted that. “Don’t tell me what I feel,” he said, though his tone was soft.

“I mean it.”

Suguru laughed lowly and scratched lightly at the base of Satoru’s skull. “Okay, caterpillar.”

“Don’t call me that—I’m literally about to turn twenty-seven.” The reprimand was so unconvincing that Suguru laughed. 

“Sure thing, caterpillar.”

“Suguru.”

“Hmm?”

Satoru’s hug turned even tighter. “Can I stay the night?”

“Of course,” Suguru said. 

Satoru sighed happily, head resting on his shoulder.

Suguru let go of him with one arm and turned toward the shoe shelf that had been crudely set up by the door. There was a bowl with his keys. He dug to the bottom, finding the loose one without a keyring. 

Satoru had turned with him, seemingly curious at what he was doing.

Suguru held up the key toward him in his open palm.

Satoru snatched it like Suguru might have changed his mind. “Really?” He asked eagerly.

“Are you joking?” Suguru laughed. “Of course really.”

Satoru smushed his face against Suguru’s, and it was almost like he was kissing his face if Suguru was allowed one pitiful dream. Satoru held onto Suguru’s forearm with one hand and held the key with his other. 

“I got the tv set up. Let’s watch Hunter x Hunter.”

“Phantom troupe?” Suguru asked, following the pull.

“Greed island!”

“No fucking way,” Suguru laughed. 

“Genthru reminds me of Nanami,” Satoru said, as though that was a reasonable argument.

Suguru burst into laughter. “He couldn’t be farther from Nanami if he tried.”

“Nanami’s sunglasses are just like that, and they have light hair.”

“If that’s your argument, then you look like Genthru.”

Satoru stopped in the middle of the room. “That is the meanest thing you could have ever said to me. Obviously I’m an adult Killua.”

Suguru laughed. “Okay, fine, that’s a good comparison.”

“You just want to watch season three because you wanna be like Chrollo.”

“Who wouldn’t?”

“True,” Satoru gave up easily. He sat down on the couch and picked up the remote. He patted the spot next to him. “Come sit, Suguru, we’ll watch season three.”

Suguru sat down next to him. “That was easy.”

“It’s your thank you gift for the key.”

“I'm honored,” he said flatly.

Satoru laid down on the couch, flipping through the apps on the tv while his head nestled on Suguru’s leg. He let out a happy sigh, wriggling contentedly on the couch. “This is the best.”

Suguru felt his mouth stretch, chest so warm he couldn’t help but reach down and start combing his fingers trough Satoru’s hair while the tv started to play the show.

The jingling sound of the intro music played, while the narrator began explaining the universe. Satoru snuggled into Suguru’s leg and put the key into his pocket. He was asleep in ten minutes.

Suguru stared at the screen, heart thudding. They picked up on the last episode they’d watched, so they were already a few episodes in. Chrollo sat in the troupe hideout. Suguru’s blunt nails scraped lightly against Satoru’s scalp as his even breaths fanned out onto his leg. 

It was the nicest, kindest hell Suguru could even hope to imagine.

 

___________

 

By the end of the week, he was mostly unpacked and settled in. He’d thought it would take longer than it did, but with the constant presence from Satoru, they did it together, and there were several blips of time when he’d come by that it was easy to just unpack while they talked.

They’d always talked, but there was something different about being in person. Satoru told him everything about his job, but somehow it seemed like more when they were face-to-face. Suguru knew a lot of the characters that had been present since Satoru started working for that branch, but it seemed that now that Suguru was there, his full opinions were significantly more honest.

Suddenly, Satoru hated everyone, and everyone annoyed him, and he didn’t get along with a single soul. Suguru knew this was incredibly untrue, and that he clearly had people he worked with that he respected or cared about, but it was as though every grievance he’d had, even if they were minor, were coming out.

He’d asked Satoru about it, about why he hadn’t told him those things before, and Satoru, ever earnest, looked at him and said that if he’d told Suguru, he would have missed him even more.

Suguru almost kissed the hell out of him for saying that, but thankfully his entire bed had been between them at the time, and Satoru had turned away quickly after saying it.

Satoru was needy. Suguru wasn’t blind to this, despite the fact that people told him that he was, sometimes. Shoko said it the most, but even Nanami and Haibara had commented on it every once in a while.

Nanami would tell him that he let Satoru get away with too much. But, Suguru thought, it was relatively even. They both let each other get away with things, so it felt hypocritical for him to say that Satoru was the only one getting away with anything.

They’d gone a long time just them. When they were young, and Satoru was refusing friendship with everyone else, people thought there was some sort of selfishness involved. In a way, there was. But Satoru just couldn’t get along with anyone else, and Suguru was the only person who did, and he was afraid to lose it. And, as Suguru had quickly learned, getting that from only one person gave that person large shoes to fill.

Suguru had never been opposed to filling them. It was possible for him to get along with others, but no one was like Satoru. Everything felt empty for him. He loved people, he cared about people, he wanted the best for them, most of the time. But there was something missing, something unfulfilling. With Satoru, that part of him was full.

His annoying ass voice sounding off after barging into Suguru’s apartment, his mess that he left in the kitchen, when there was water on the floor after he showered—it made Suguru so happy. 

When it overwhelmed him, he’d stare down at Satoru’s face while they slept in his bed, and smother Satoru’s face with his pillow while he mouthed how much he loved him. And then when Satoru shot up, taking the pillow and whacking Suguru with it hard enough to bruise, he’d let Satoru crawl over him and yell at him about needing to sleep before work, and then slump on top of him and fall back asleep like nothing had happened. Suguru had gotten just what he wanted. Satoru, lying all over him, breathing into his throat, easy access to touch and breathe him in. Suguru was a sick and twisted individual, if he thought about it. Selfish, manipulative, and greedy. So it was okay that Satoru was needy and bratty. Suguru made up for it with his own.

But then the sun would rise, and Satoru’s alarm was insanely loud each morning. 

“Why are you even here?” Suguru would groan, ripping his phone out of the charger and turning it off for him. He said the words, but reveled in it. 

Satoru would roll to the other end of the bed and stretch. He would hike the blanket up to his chin and turn his back to Suguru like he hadn’t spoken.

“Get up,” Suguru would say, kicking him in the back of the knee. “And get the fuck out of my bed. You have a whole ass apartment.”

Such was the routine. And this particular morning, Satoru’s snuffly breathing was the only response.

Suguru stared at the back his head. “Satoru, get the fuck up.”

Satoru hummed.

“You have to go back to your place to get clothes,” Suguru reminded, rubbing at his eye. “You said last night that you’d just go home early.”

“Don’t want to. I’ll wear the same suit.”

Suguru sat up, took the blanket with him, and wrapped it around himself as he went to the kitchen to start a kettle of water. He left Satoru to his lamenting wailing about being cold.

He’d already gotten two notices from his landlord about noise since moving in.

Satoru came out a few moments later, looking pitiful, and then he hugged Suguru, wriggling his arms underneath the blanket. His face was angled down to stuff into the puff of the comforter.

“You have to go, like, now,” Suguru said.

“‘Kay,” he said half-heartedly.

“Now,” Suguru repeated.

Satoru nodded, face rubbing into the blanket.

Suguru thought for a moment, and he could admit to himself that it was a selfish comment he was about to make, disguised as something nice. He wanted to see if it would work, and if it did, he’d feel a sick sense of glee, he was certain. 

“I don’t have my internship today. Just classwork until the afternoon. I’ll come by to eat lunch with you.”

“Really?” Satoru perked up.

“Yes,” Suguru said. He poured the hot water into a travel mug. He put a teabag inside and twisted the lid shut on top.

“Okay,” Satoru said amiably. “I’ll meet you at noon? Text me when you get to the building and I’ll come down. We can walk to a restaurant.”

“Okay,” Suguru agreed. He turned and handed him the mug.

Satoru smiled and squeezed his hand. “Bye, Suguru. See you soon?”

“See you soon,” Suguru assured, voice soft. He watched Satoru amble out of the kitchen, and then he heard him sliding his shoes on. The door shut a moment later. 

He’d left in Suguru’s pajamas, without taking his suit from the day prior. 

Suguru was unsurprised, but still let out an annoyed huff. He was alone, so he didn’t even know who the huffing was fooling. He poured himself a mug of tea and took it to the living room to sit and scroll his phone for a bit before he got ready for the day and went to get started on his classwork.

It was odd, he thought, the way that he’d enjoyed school more when he moved. It didn’t seem so aimless. He knew why, but he humored himself by treating it as a mysterious phenomenon. 

Since he was doing nothing but working on homework, he ended up getting ready and going out long before he was supposed to meet Satoru for lunch. He decided to head to a cafe nearby to where Satoru was working, and found one only about a block away to settle in at. 

It was nice to be so close, doing homework. It reminded him of undergrad, when they were always close, even if they were off doing completely different things. It was funny, he thought, how comforting that was, when they’d started university struggling to get used to that. In high school, they’d been in the same class, and spent so much time together that doing different things, participating in different extracurriculars, and only seeing each other at night sometimes, had been odd.

Then, Satoru had moved away, and it had been like ripping out his entire heart. 

It might have made him feel dramatic to think so if Satoru hadn’t cried about it. Satoru cried over nothing. But he had cried over that.

Satoru had texted him first, even though he’d said that Suguru should text him when he was outside of the building.

you’re nearby

Suguru snorted lightly. He texted back. At a cafe, doing homework.

i’ll meet you there. i just got out of a meeting and it’d be stupid to work just to go on lunch in fifteen.

Suguru smiled. Okay. We can go somewhere else if you want.

no, that’s fine

See you soon.

Satoru read his message, and Suguru pulled up his location to watch him creep closer and closer. He left it open on the table beside him as he continued to type. He took his headphones from his head and turned them off in preparation. 

When Satoru pushed open the door, Suguru could tell it was him before he looked up. It was embarrassing, to say the least, how in tuned he was to Satoru that he knew how he opened doors. Suguru watched him step inside and scan the cafe in search for him.

He was, predictably, wearing a suit. He always had them well-tailored and fitted attractively to his frame. He was tall and lean, and his suits always made that very clear. He was wearing a dark gray one when he came in, and his undershirt was a blue that matched his eyes. Suguru was almost annoyed about it. 

Scratch that, he thought, as Satoru spotted him and smiled wide. He was definitely annoyed. 

Satoru traipsed over and sat down across from him. “Hey,” he said. “What do you want for lunch today?”

“Not feeling picky today,” Suguru said, taking his hands off of his laptop’s keys, trying not to ogle openly at him. “What about you?”

“Me neither,” he said. “We could just eat here, if you wanted, since you’re all set up. They have food.”

“That’s fine,” Suguru agreed, “as long as you’re alright with it.”

“Of course, I offered,” Satoru said peevishly. “Let’s order.”

Suguru stood up at the same time Satoru did, and they both approached the counter. The young woman working the register looked mildly intimidated at the sight of both of them. It was not an uncommon occurrence that they intimidated people when they were together. In college, it happened all the time. Especially when they went to parties.

Satoru, ever aware of that fact, smiled at her in a dazzling way. Suguru was fortunately immune to Satoru’s particular brand of flirtatious charm, and began speaking first. 

“Good morning,” he said, though it was almost afternoon.

She looked to him, and did not seem any less dazzled. “Good morning,” she said, almost sounding apprehensive. “What can I get for you two?”

Suguru ordered his food while Satoru looked over the menu. 

“Hmm,” he said, tapping his chin. 

He was just messing around, so Suguru nudged him with his arm. “Pick, or I won’t pay.”

“You’re paying?” Satoru asked, turning that dazzling smile onto Suguru instead. 

Suguru was… mostly immune, he amended in his head. “If you order within the next five seconds.”

Satoru seemed agreeable to that, and placed his order, too. While Suguru was paying, Satoru was meandering back to their table. Suguru got the ticket number and he slid his wallet back into his pocket. 

When he turned, he saw that Satoru was sitting in his seat, reading through Suguru’s document.

He walked back over, not annoyed, but entirely aware of the audacity that Satoru had to do so.

“Do I have your approval?” Suguru asked, sliding into the seat Satoru had just been in moments prior.

Satoru was looking through it still. He nodded. “It looks good, Suguru,” he said. “Really good. One more semester and then you’ll present it?”

“Mm,” Suguru hummed in confirmation. “I’ll head back to the university to do it sometimes in February.”

Satoru’s mouth turned to a pout for a moment. “How long will you be there for?”

“Not sure,” he said. “Depends on what time the presentation is.”

“When you know what days you have to be there, let me know,” Satoru said. He continued to scroll through the document. “I want to take the days off to go with you.”

Suguru raised his eyebrows at him. “Are you serious?”

Satoru looked defensive suddenly. “I’m not allowed to celebrate with you?” 

Suguru watched his face with a feeling of fondness rising up in him. He looked so insulted, somehow. His mouth stretched before he could school it away. “You are,” he said.

Satoru simmered back down, placated. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Suguru smiled wider and watched Satoru continue to read through his thesis. It was quiet between them as he did so, where he made small comments here and there about a point Suguru had made. Sometimes it was jokingly critical, and other times enthusiastically in agreement.

A bell rang out and someone called his ticket number. Suguru stood up and so did Satoru. 

“I’ll get it, don’t worry,” Suguru said. 

Satoru shook his head. “No, you paid.”

Suguru caught him, hands coming to hold onto his. His thumb slid in-between Satoru’s index and middle finger when he did so, and it felt intimate somehow. He rubbed his thumb over his skin. “I got it, caterpie, sit down. It’s your lunch break.”

Satoru’s face turned pink, and he looked around to see if anyone heard him. “I’m not a Pokemon,” he practically wheezed out, before turning and sitting back down, face buried in Suguru’s laptop.

Suguru laughed. He turned and went to go pick up the food. He handed the ticket off to the cafe worker who had brought the food out in exchange for the tray, and took it back over to the table, where Satoru looked less embarrassed, but still somewhat shy.

He put the tray on the table behind the laptop and dished Satoru’s food out to him and then took his own to pull toward himself. 

Satoru clicked around before shutting the computer, and Suguru realized he must have been making sure it was saved. The thought warmed him. 

He tugged his plates toward himself and immediately began to eat. He did it with little grace, as per usual, and Suguru made disgusted faces at him until he had enough and just told him to have better manners.

Satoru ignored him, also as per usual, and slurped at his drink, too. Suguru was disgusted with him.

They ate in relative silence, with the odd comment here and there where Satoru said that it was delicious, and asked how Suguru’s was, too. It was good, and Suguru said as much, and that was about all that was said. However, as they ate and as the time dragged on, Satoru began to look nervous.

Suguru watched him both wary and a little concerned. Satoru was getting jittery, chewing quicker and swallowing big sips of his drink. 

“You okay?” Suguru asked, when Satoru was finished and Suguru wasn’t. He had an abundance of energy it seemed, as though he had no idea what to do with himself while Suguru was eating and while he wasn’t. 

Satoru nodded jerkily. He took another sip.

Suguru stared at him. “Satoru,” he said, voice soft. He nudged him beneath the table with his foot. “What’s wrong?”

Satoru shrugged. And then shook his head. Then smiled sheepishly. “Nothing. Sorry. I don’t know why I feel nervous.”

“Nervous about what?” He prodded.

“I, uh… In my line of work, there are like… parties and stuff. Work events. And there’s one coming up, and we have a lot of our partners coming to the event, too. It’s kind of like networking even though it’s just advertised as a party.”

Suguru nodded along. He knew this. Satoru talked about it every time one came up. “Yeah, I know.”

Satoru shifted again. “Right…”

“What is it?” Suguru prompted again. He put his food down, starting to feel nervous himself, though he didn’t know why.

“Now that you’re here, I don’t want to go alone,” Satoru got out eventually. “It’s boring and really uppity and stuff, but god knows you’d probably like that or something.”

Suguru rolled his eyes.

“I know you probably would rather do something else, but did you want to come with me?”

Suguru almost laughed. And then he thought, fuck it, and did laugh. He laughed until Satoru blushed. “Why are you so nervous asking me that? I’ll go with you, I don’t mind.”

Satoru, though he looked annoyed and embarrassed, also looked relieved. “Really?”

“Of course, really,” Suguru said, tilting his head. “You thought I’d say no?”

“I don’t know, it just doesn’t seem like something anyone would want to do.”

“Well, it’s that, or I sit alone in my apartment while you go.”

Satoru nodded eagerly. “Right, we can do stuff together now. Now that you’re here.”

“Mhm,” Suguru hummed, smiling. He felt happy, that thrumming warmth coiling in his chest.

Satoru relaxed after that, chin in his hand as he scrolled through his phone. Suguru finished his own food while Satoru did so. 

They didn’t talk much, but Satoru occasionally commented on things he was seeing on social media and flashing peeks of it when he turned his screen. Suguru nodded along and let him talk, though he rarely had something to add to what Satoru was saying. 

When they were both done, Satoru got up and took their dishes up before Suguru could consider doing it. When he returned, he reached down to grab onto Suguru’s arm. He tugged him up and then guided him back to his original seat. 

“When are you gonna be home tonight?”

“Probably late,” he said, sitting back down. “I have internship work to do in the office. I’m going in a bit late, so I’ll come out late.”

“Ten?” Satoru asked. “Or later?”

“Around then probably,” Suguru said. He opened his laptop again to get back to his thesis. “When are you out?”

“Probably like eight,” Satoru said. He remained standing, looking over Suguru’s shoulder as he pulled his resources back up.

Suguru let him watch without commenting on it. He was rather nosy. 

“A whole two hours,” he sighed.

Suguru smiled.

“I have to go back to work now.”

Suguru hummed.

“Suguru,” he said.

He looked up and met Satoru’s stare. His eyes were catching on the sunlight from the window just right. It was like two little pools of Caribbean water on his face.

Satoru stared back at him and then held Suguru’s chin with his hand. His mouth turned up into a smile. “Say you’re gonna miss me.”

Suguru held his hand and reached up, too. Satoru leaned down into his hand. Suguru pulled his face closer, thumb brushing over his cheek. “No.”

Satoru laughed. He nuzzled into Suguru’s hand once, and then pulled away. “See you later.”

“Bye, Satoru.”

Satoru walked out of the cafe and when the door shut he took the sunlight with him. Suguru went back to his laptop and continued writing. He’d have to ask for details about the party later.

 

__________

 

“Time to go home, Gojo-sama.”

“Busy.”

Suguru looked between Satoru and the driver that was parked on the sidewalk. They were sitting in Suguru’s front yard, putting worms from the sidewalk back onto the dirt. They’d all come up from the rain and were littered across the pavement. 

Satoru wasn’t looking at the driver. He was looking at the worm wriggling on his hand. Suguru had been a little unsettled by Satoru’s intense, focused gaze, when they first met. His eyes were like something he’d never seen before, and he remembered his mom telling him not to stare because it was rude back when they’d first met a few months prior.

They had met at a park, after they’d gotten into a shoving match over whose turn it was to play on the swings. They’d rolled around in the dirt, fighting, until Suguru’s mom had run over alongside one of Satoru’s nannies. Suguru had learned later that he had a few different ones.

When they’d been separated, Suguru was so accosted by the bright eyes and hair combination that Satoru was sporting, and it derailed him from his indignant righteousness about whose turn it was to play on the equipment. He hadn’t really noticed when they were fighting.

His mother had nudged him telling him to stop staring and say sorry. Satoru looked smug and angry still when Suguru had muttered out a polite sorry. His nanny had directed him to apologize too, but she had no real influence over him, so he had just said no and stomped off.

Suguru had been scandalized at this. He sucked in a strangled gasp and looked up at his mother, who also seemed somewhat surprised. She had a look of distaste on her face, but was keeping herself carefully neutral.

“Well,” she said, strained. “We still maintain our manners when others don’t, right, Suguru?”

The Gojo nanny looked both mortified and irritated. She looked to Suguru and his mother and bowed. “I apologize on his behalf. We are working on manners.”

Suguru felt something welling up within him, so he separated from his mother, went off to keep playing, and when she finally averted her gaze, had gone to confront Satoru again. They fought again, but no one had seen, so they wrestled until they both tired each other out and had a begrudging respect for the other.

Satoru had begged his nanny to get Suguru’s mom’s information so they could play again. Both women looked surprised, but they obliged, and then Satoru was in Suguru’s life the way a person caught a disease. 

Satoru, as his nanny had said, was working on manners though, so when his driver came to pick him up from Suguru’s house, he was completely resistant.

“You should go home,” Suguru murmured, still crouched beside him.

He turned his eyes up to Suguru, and Suguru was still unsettled by that. “I want to stay. Don’t you want me to stay?”

“I do,” Suguru said defensively. “But they’re here to pick you up…”

“So?” Satoru said. He turned back to the worm. He carefully set it down into the dirt.

“Um…” Suguru hadn’t been sure what to say to that. There were lots of things Satoru said that Suguru wasn’t sure how to respond to.

Then, Satoru did something that would ruin Suguru forever. He turned those eyes back to him, mouth turning into a pout, and looked so pitiful that Suguru had frozen. He felt a distant sense of panic, like he’d done something bad to upset him, and he wasn’t sure what. Satoru’s eyes had turned watery then. Suguru found that more unsettling than any of his intense expressions he’d ever seen.

“Wha—you’re crying?” He asked, hands reaching out and hovering in the air uselessly. “What's wrong?”

“I thought you wanted to be friends,” Satoru said, voice wobbling.

“I do,” Suguru said urgently. He looked up at the driver, as if he was going to help, but the driver looked uncomfortable, too. He looked back at Satoru and then reached out to pet his hair. “I like being friends.”

When the tears bubbled over and spilled, Suguru felt just as distraught. His own eyes felt a bit misty. “I don’t want to go home,” Satoru said.

Suguru pet his hair a little harder, unsure what else to do. He had only been six, at the time, after all. He looked to the driver. “Can’t he stay?” He asked, feeling desperate.

“Uh…” the driver looked around helplessly. “I can… call and ask?”

“Okay,” Suguru said eagerly.

The driver stepped up the pathway and went to go to the house, presumably to ask for the Geto household’s phone to call Satoru’s parents. Meanwhile, Suguru shifted forward and hugged Satoru awkwardly. They were both crouching, so their knees were in the way, but Suguru wasn’t sure what else to do.

He continued to pet Satoru’s hair. “He’s gonna ask if you can stay. But, even if you can’t, it’ll be ok. We can play again tomorrow.”

Satoru scrubbed at his eyes with the backs of his hands. He looked at them, like he was betrayed by the wetness he found there. He sniffled, swiping his nose next, and then started to look more angry than sad. “I’m not a baby.”

“Who said you were a baby?” Suguru asked, surprised. 

Satoru shook him off. “You’re—You keep petting me.”

Suguru took his hand off immediately. He shuffled back. “Sorry,” he muttered, feeling hurt and angry. “I was just trying to help. You were upset.”

Satoru glanced at him, eyes still wet despite his miniature fit. It still tugged at Suguru’s heart, because he was clearly upset, no matter what he said or how embarrassed he was. 

Then, the driver came out a few minutes later. He looked a bit weary. “Gojo-sama,” he called. “Your parents and Suguru’s parents said that you can stay the night, but I’m to pick you up in the morning.”

Satoru brightened up, tears blinked away almost instantly. “Really!”

The driver smiled despite himself and nodded as he made his way back to the car. “Yes. But you must come in the morning, alright?”

“Okay,” Satoru agreed quickly. “I promise.”

The driver smiled again and waved to the both of them as he got back into the car and then drove away.

Suguru felt his mouth stretch into a smile, too.

Satoru cheered and tackled Suguru onto the ground. Their clothes immediately turned damp from the leftover rain on the grass. “We get to have a sleepover!”

Suguru laughed, hugging him back. “See, when you ask nicely everything goes right.”

“Now we get to hang out, just you and me,” Satoru said eagerly.

Suguru nodded back, mouth stretching wider. “Just me and you."

Satoru peered down at him, and his smile was so sweet and his blue eyes so crinkled, that Suguru didn’t think he was very unsettling anymore. And, unfortunately, Satoru had learned the magic powers of asking politely for things, and especially the power of tearfully looking at Suguru for help when he wanted something. He became successful in making requests from just about anyone after that.

 

__________

 

Satoru had evolutions of himself. When they were young, in grade school, he’d been incredibly bratty and selfish. All of his difficulties making friends had translated into a jealous selfishness that made him throw a fit every time Suguru got along with someone else. And then, in middle school, it became quite angsty. He would give the cold shoulder, even though he still tagged along with everything Suguru did. And then in high school, after he adjusted to being around Suguru more, he seemed more comfortable in their friendship. He had seemed to start catching on that it didn’t matter if Suguru had other friends—Satoru was still his best and closest.

College was when that had really settled in. They both made more friends, Satoru was exposed to the beauty of friendship with others, and then it was Suguru’s turn to be a little jealous. 

By the end, they’d both evened out. But then they’d been separated for three years. Suguru had wondered if Satoru would have another evolution because of this. To him, he thought it was very fitting that he sometimes called Satoru a Pokemon, considering how many evolutions he had. Suguru was not above telling him that, which Satoru hated.

They hadn’t discussed the potential of new evolutions just because Suguru would make fun of him for his previous evolutions, however. 

He was getting the impression that they were in a new era.

Perhaps that had been why Satoru had been nervous about asking Suguru to go with him to the party. It was asking him to see what had changed for him.

Nanami and Haibara were at the party, fortunately. Since Nanami and Satoru were both in the same realm and it was so nearby, they were included in the networking event. Haibara was the sort of person who would normally not be involved in events like that, but he was a natural at getting along with others, and seemed to have an easier time socializing with Nanami’s coworkers than even Nanami did.

Suguru was near one of the tables by the wall, speaking with Nanami while everyone else mingled. Suguru had been introduced to people in droves, and Satoru had been incredibly pleased to make that introduction. But, he discovered, almost no one really had heard of him.

He wasn’t hurt, per se, but he did feel a small zing of shock every time he was introduced and no look of clarity passed over their face.

In the past, any time Satoru had introduced him to someone he knew, they always had a sudden moment of understanding, and then made some sort of uncouth comment about how they’d wondered what Suguru was like.

Nanami was tight-lipped as he normally was, and Suguru was too polite to bring it up. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to discuss that sort of thing with Nanami.

Haibara returned to them when there had been a lapse in their own amiable conversation. Satoru was off by the drinks table, speaking to a woman that Suguru had been introduced to as Utahime. She seemed supremely unimpressed with Satoru, which was impressive in itself. 

Haibara followed Suguru’s gaze when he settled beside Nanami and watched, too, for a moment. “Utahime, right?”

Nanami nodded. “Yes.”

Suguru looked away from them. He didn’t feel jealous. Well, he didn’t think it was jealousy. If anything, he felt more confused than jealous. 

“They don’t get along,” Haibara said. “As far as I’m aware. He enjoys tormenting her.”

Suguru scoffed. That sounded about right.

“No need to feel jealous!” Haibara said cheerfully.

Suguru looked at him, incredulous. “What?”

Nanami smiled and hid it behind his drink. 

“You just look incredibly disgruntled,” Haibara said.

Suguru was going to find Shoko and strangle her. He didn’t know how, but he was certain that she was involved somehow.

Haibara looked to Nanami, as though thinking about whether he should say something, and Nanami just shrugged at him. Haibara looked back at Suguru. “He doesn’t talk about you much.”

Suguru blinked at him, face carefully blank, despite feeling like the air had been sucked out of the room. His mind went as blank as his expression.

“Ah—” Haibara said, as though he regretted his phrasing. “I mean that he doesn’t talk about you much here, and we all have a theory.”

Suguru said nothing.

“Remember when you and I first became friends?” Haibara asked suddenly. He looked at Satoru from across the room. “He was really intimidating. He hated me, for sure. And then he started to open up after a while. He tends to interact with people based on you, in whatever way that is. I think he didn’t want to talk about you because he knew he’d miss you and because he wanted to keep you to himself.”

“That is his typical style,” Suguru strained.

Haibara laughed quietly. “It is, isn’t it?”

“Yu’s trying to say that you shouldn’t be hurt that no one here knew who you were.”

Suguru blinked at him, and then smiled very serenely. “I wasn’t hurt,” he said, not sure if that was true or not. “I was a bit confused, but it’s fine.”

Haibara looked amused at that, and seemed he was about to respond when someone else cut in and interrupted him.

“Excuse me?”

Suguru looked over. 

A young man, probably an intern if Suguru had to guess, was standing off to the side, looking between the three of them. “I wanted to introduce myself,” he said, bowing slightly. “My name is Okkotsu Yuta.”

Suguru hummed, bowing back. “Nice to meet you. I’m Geto Suguru.”

“Yes,” Okkotsu said, straightening. “I work with Gojo-san. I am distantly related to him and was allowed to work under him to learn some of the business.”

Suguru had heard of him. Satoru had mentioned him when he’d first come in. “I’ve heard of you,” he said kindly. “Satoru has only nice things to say about your work.”

Okkotsu brightened a little bit at that. “Really? I’m very glad to hear that.”

Suguru smiled again nodding. “Was there something you wanted to speak about in particular?”

Okkotsu glanced over to Satoru, who was still squabbling with Utahime. He looked back to Suguru. “No, I just wanted to meet you. He mentions you sometimes, and in the family, everyone knows about you.”

Haibara snorted loudly from behind Suguru, and it was muffled immediately. Suguru smiled just as politely as he had before. “I hope nothing terrible or embarrassing.”

“No,” Okkotsu said immediately. “Well…”

Haibara was laughing again.

“I just—” Okkotsu looked flustered. “He doesn’t say anything bad. He’s just—well, I’m sure you know as good as anyone.”

“I do, indeed,” he said amiably. He was going to kick Satoru’s ass later.

Satoru looked over then, and caught Suguru’s smile. He looked caught immediately, and looked around and then pointed to himself questioningly, as though he was in trouble. Suguru just looked back at Okkotsu, still smiling. 

Okkotsu looked Suguru over, and something about his demeanor shifted. He had been polite before, but it began to fade into something else. It was more calculating, more skeptical. “He mentioned that you moved here recently.”

“I did,” Suguru agreed. He took a sip of his champagne. He was unsure what issue Okkotsu had with him, but he was unconcerned with it. “About a month ago.”

“How are you liking it so far?” 

“It’s very nice here,” he said. “I’m finishing up my grad program from here and then will settle in at a job somewhere.”

“Around here?” Okkotsu prompted.

Suguru’s smile remained on his face. He tilted his head in question. “Yes,” he said. 

Satoru appeared then, tossing his arm around Suguru and leaning on him. “You’ve met my dear distant cousin,” he said jovially. He looked at Okkotsu with his own questioning look. “Yuta, how are you enjoying your first party with the big leagues?”

Okkotsu’s smile turned somewhat sour, but sheepish, like he was used to the teasing. “Fine, Gojo-san.”

“I think the little assistant you like so much is coming with his boss soon,” Satoru said, smile devious. “You should go wait to greet him.”

Okkotsu’s face turned red. He turned and walked away without another word.

Rude, Suguru thought. He looked at Satoru with a raised eyebrow. 

Satoru squeezed him. “He seemed to be bothering you.”

“He was perfectly pleasant.”

“Except for the weird daggers he was throwing Geto-san,” Haibara piped up helpfully.

Satoru and Suguru both turned. Satoru made an inquisitive noise. “He was?” He looked to Suguru again, arm dropping. “Was he?”

Suguru shrugged and took another sip. “He didn’t seem pleased with me. Though, he implied you’ve potentially given me a bad rep amongst your family, so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”

Satoru looked scandalized at the accusation. “What! I’ve never done such a thing.”

“Oh really?” Suguru smiled, reaching inconspicuously to pinch his waist beneath his suit jacket.

Satoru squirmed, letting out an unceremonious yelp. “Suguru!” He cried.

“What kind of shit are you saying to people about me, huh?” Suguru said through his smile, pinching him harder.

Satoru gripped his hand and pulled him off but remained hanging on. “Suguru, I don’t say anything bad,” he whined, “I promise!”

“It’s probably just as embarrassing for Gojo-san!” Haibara said brightly, as if that helped.

Suguru wasn’t entirely surprised, if he was being honest. There had always been a hesitant sort of acceptance of Suguru in the Gojo family. They were apprehensive about him due to how distracting he was to Satoru, as well as the fact that he was significantly less wealthy. But Suguru was polite, had good manners and sense, was smart and talented the way Satoru was, and was also the only person Satoru got even close to listening to.

Suguru huffed and let it go.

Satoru leaned into him. “Was Yuta really rude to you?” He asked lowly.

Suguru shook his head, even though he was, somewhat. “No, he just seemed apprehensive of me.”

“Why?” Satoru sounded bewildered. “What on earth could be—” He cut himself off.

Suguru leaned his head back to try and study his face. “What?”

Satoru stared at Suguru for a moment, and then turned away. “I will be right back, Suguru.”

Suguru watched him leave, feeling unsurprised. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d argued with someone over Suguru.

“I have a theory,” Haibara said unhelpfully once Satoru was out of earshot.

“Yu,” Nanami said, a mild warning in his tone.

Haibara smiled at him and nodded, as though saying it would be ok. He turned back to Suguru. “He missed you a lot,” he said, as though that explained everything. “And Yuta-kun is very protective.”

Suguru felt an impressive wave of irritation crash over him. Protective, he thought to himself. Funny.

Nanami rolled his eyes, like he knew exactly what Suguru was thinking.

“Glad he has someone who cares about him so much,” Suguru said. If his tone was strained, he didn’t wait around to see if they picked up on it. He turned and walked away without another word. He heard Haibara and Nanami speaking quietly to themselves as he walked away.

Suguru went to the drink table and exchanged his flute of champagne for a flute of water. He took a sip a the end of the table.

“You’re an impressive specimen, Geto Suguru.” The voice came from a few feet off to the side.

Suguru looked over.

Utahime was standing beside him, still looking sour from whatever it had been she was arguing with Satoru about. “I don’t know how you put up with him.”

Suguru felt a mixture of anger and agreement. Satoru was insufferable. He also loved him. “He is a handful,” he said simply.

She huffed. “That’s one way to put it it. You’ve really been friends since you were little?”

“Yes,” Suguru said. “We were six.”

“Oh wow,” she said, voice bland. “He torments me. I don’t know if I could handle twenty years of that.”

Suguru didn’t think he could handle it either, but in a very different way than he was sure she meant. Though, if she meant it in the same way, Suguru might have to be a little rude to her, for his own sake.

Utahime, outside of her digs at Satoru, was relatively pleasant. The more she spoke, the more Suguru had to admit that she also maybe had a reason to gripe about Satoru. It really did sound like some form of psychological torture. As they spoke, however, a few others seemed to gravitate toward them, curious about the supposed best friend of Gojo Satoru.

He had known, just off of instinct alone, that people found Satoru to be a sort of enigma, something untouchable. He was, in many ways. Throughout school and university, that had been true, too. He played sports while in school, and dominated every one he decided to be a part of. People begged him to play for them. On top of that, he was ranked near the top of his class, alongside Suguru. Suguru had also been a high ranking player when it came to sports, but Satoru had just been different.

University had been the same. It was only natural that when he entered the work force, with his famed family name behind him, and his natural talent for literally everything, that people would learn quickly to respect and revere him.

He was, Suguru knew, also antisocial in many ways. He was bubbly, warm, and jokingly interacting with everyone at all times, yet held a certain level of distance that people always noticed after a while. They had so much history together that sometimes Suguru forgot that people didn’t know him as well as Suguru did.

But, as he spoke to an entire department of people about their history together, regaling them with safe, positive stories from high school, he realized that Satoru was as much of a mystery to them as Suguru had been.

He caught sight of Haibara and Nanami watching him from the other end of the room, and they both had some sort of expression on their face, caught between smug and foreboding, that said this was exactly why Satoru had done what he’d done.

Satoru appeared out of nowhere again, once more using his uncanny ability to sneak up on others. He stood beside Suguru, pushing between him and Utahime. Suguru caught Haibara’s amused expression before he looked away. 

“What a group of fans you’ve accumulated, Suguru,” Satoru said. His arm was around his shoulders again. He leaned his head into Suguru’s briefly. “Are you telling them how perfect and amazing I am and that they should feel elated that such a man is their boss?”

“I’m just being honest, Satoru. If they don’t come to that conclusion, you can only blame yourself.” He reached up regardless, arm around his waist.

Satoru took over the conversation as he often did when he was feeling sensitive. His voice was strained, uncomfortable, and Suguru had an idea of course, but he still felt confused. It was, indeed, a new evolution.

 

__________

 

They went back to Satoru’s apartment when they left the party, since it was closer, and neither of them had anything else they had to do the next morning. It was late when they got there, almost one in the morning, and Satoru seemed extremely irritated at that point. He wasn’t one to just become irritable unless it was something specific.

He was already unbuttoning his suit jacket when they got to the top floor of his building. His apartment was huge as fuck, and Suguru felt, not for the first time, a pang that urged him to just ask to move in together.

Suguru tied his hair up into a bun and also started to pull his suit jacket off. He went to Satoru’s bedroom, unbuttoning as he went while Satoru holed himself up in the bathroom.

He stepped into the closet and began taking his suit off. He pulled on one of Satoru’s t-shirts and a pair of pajama pants. They were similar in height, but the shirt was a bit tight. He would have rubbed it in Satoru’s face if Satoru hadn’t seemed like he was going to lash out if spoken to.

Satoru barged in a moment later, just in a pair of boxers, a headband pushing his hair back and his face washed.

He bypassed Suguru and went to pull on a t-shirt. He had forgone pants altogether, but Suguru wasn’t complaining. Without another word, however, he left the closet and immediately laid in his bed. He was on his phone, back turned to Suguru.

Suguru sighed inaudibly. He shut off the closet light, and then turned off the light for the room by the door. He lingered there.

“Satoru,” he called softly. “Want me to sleep on the sofa?”

There was silence for several moments. Then, he responded, voice shaky. “Why would you sleep there?”

Suguru felt stunned. “Wha—I—” He had no idea what to say. He felt six again, the first time he'd seen Satoru cry.

Satoru didn’t say anymore.

Suguru walked over to the bed and climbed on. “Satoru,” he said quietly. “What’s wrong?”

Satoru didn’t say anything. He just scrolled aggressively on his phone, clearly not looking at a single thing.

Suguru slipped under the comforter and sidled up behind him. He threw an arm over him and tucked his chin over Satoru’s shoulder. He reached up and put his hand over Satoru’s where he was holding his phone. He clicked the sleep button for him and it plunged the room in darkness. His brightness had been up so high it was blinding.

“Caterpie,” Suguru said without thinking. He nuzzled his face into Satoru’s. “Why are you upset?”

“Not,” Satoru argued.

“Are you calling me stupid?” Suguru said. “Because the only way I’d believe that would be if I was stupid.”

Satoru sighed, very put-upon. “Then you’re stupid.”

Suguru squeezed him and nuzzled into him harder. “Tell me.”

Satoru still wouldn’t say. He did turn over, however, and hug him. Suguru thought that was about as much of an admittance that he’d get. He returned the hug, hiking him closer and petting through his hair. 

Suguru had his usual guesses, but he also felt somewhat confused and hurt, too. So instead of making any assumptions, he just decided to go for the truth. “You’re my best friend, you know?”

Satoru hummed. 

“What’s that mean?” Suguru prompted, tugging lightly at his hair. “You know or don’t know?”

“I know,” Satoru muttered.

“The best,” Suguru emphasized. “My best. My only.”

Satoru hummed again, wriggling slightly like he was both pleased and uncomfortable. “Only? You’re a liar.”

“No,” Suguru said, turning his face into Satoru’s hair. “My one and only. I swear.”

Satoru squeezed him so hard that it was difficult to breathe. “Me too,” he agreed. “One and only.”

“Nothing is changing it,” Suguru whispered to him. “Not a single thing. Or single person.”

Satoru’s face was buried in his shoulder. “Not even when you—” He cut himself off.

“Nothing, Satoru, I mean it.”

“You didn’t know what I was going to say.”

“I don’t need to know,” Suguru said firmly. “Never, no matter what.”

Satoru nodded. “That’s right,” he said quietly. “Good. No matter what. I won’t let it be any other way.”

Suguru smiled, nose and mouth pressed just beneath his ear, where his headband was still on. “You’re such a brat.”

Satoru huffed, but didn’t argue. 

It was quiet between them for a few moments, while Satoru slowly lost the tension he’d been holding. 

Eventually, he spoke again. “Did you like Utahime?”

“Like her?” Suguru asked, continuing to pet through his hair. “As in want to be friends, or approve of her as a subordinate or something?”

“No, as in… interested in her.”

Suguru guffawed in surprise, the notion catching him so off guard he couldn’t help but laugh. “No, caterpillar, I don’t have a crush on your employee.”

Satoru grumbled his response, sounding embarrassed, even though whatever he said was unintelligible. 

“Why?” Suguru asked, and then it felt like his chest was going concave. “… Do you like her?”

“Eugh,” Satoru immediately gagged, which wasn’t entirely comforting. “No I do not.”

“Why’d you ask then?” Suguru asked, voice a little more challenging than he wished it was.

“I was wondering,” Satoru mumbled. “Since you seemed to be getting along.”

Suguru had no clue why he’d have thought that, considering Suguru tended to get along with people most of the time. “Satoru, I often get along with people, but it doesn’t make you think that I like them. Why now?”

“Dunno,” he whispered. “Drop it.”

Suguru sighed. When Satoru wanted to stop talking about something it was impossible to convince him otherwise. Just like it was impossible to get him to stop talking once he started. “What scares you about me liking someone?”

“Scares?” Satoru repeated, affronted. “I’m not—”

“Caterpie,” he said. 

“I hate that stupid nickname,” he muttered, slumping again. He rubbed his nose against Suguru’s collarbone, because he definitely didn’t hate it. “It’s just that things would probably change,” he said, “if you started dating someone.”

Suguru agreed. It certainly would. Cuddling in bed with Satoru because he loved him and being very in love with him would definitely change things if he happened to be dating someone else the entire time. “Whoever this mystery person is, I suppose they’ll have to get used to me snuggling you to sleep when you’re in a bad mood.”

Satoru’s fingers dug painfully into Suguru’s side in revenge. “Shut up!”

Suguru smiled and didn’t rise to the bait. He kissed Satoru’s ear, and then his cheek, and then his temple, and his cheek again. “I hope my secret lover is ok with this too.”

“Ugh!” Satoru said, stretching away from Suguru’s mouth, hand going to his face to push him back. “Stop, you heathen! I take it back! No one would want to date your corny ass.”

Suguru drew him back in, hands on his face. He held him, close to his own. “Just you and me. Okay?”

Satoru’s brows furrowed, and his lips were pouted out manually by Suguru’s grip. His eyes were still bright in the dark, but they were glittery and pretty. Suguru wished he could kiss him, but for real. 

“Okay?” Suguru prompted.

“Okay,” Satoru agreed, quiet.

Without another word, Satoru shuffled back into Suguru’s arms and settled in like he was going to sleep. It was quiet then, the only sound the clock on the wall and the sound of Satoru’s breathing. 

Meanwhile, Suguru felt like he couldn’t breathe. His heart hurt. It ached hard, so hard that even his arm started to twinge, the pain shooting down to his hand. He held Satoru, hand on his head again, and tried to sleep, but it wouldn’t come to him. What was it, what was happening, that made this so perfect and hellish? 

He loved Satoru, exactly as he was. He wanted this, the same thing, forever, but it didn’t feel like enough. What was so different about saying I love you, when they were the same words he already would say? What would be different, about cuddling? About kissing Satoru’s face? He did half, if not more, of the things he’d do if they were in a relationship. Yet doing it made him ache like he was dying.

And unfortunately, the only thing that comforted him about that was this. He held Satoru tighter, let that ache pump into his veins, and slept.

 

__________

 

Nanami sat across from him, eating with a quiet politeness that Suguru appreciated. It was something he always appreciated about Nanami. There was never any excess with him, the way there was with some of the other people in Suguru’s life. He had been accused of having double standards, or biases, since he didn’t hold Satoru to the same standard, but they just didn’t understand that Suguru didn’t find Satoru to be excessive. 

Suguru had just finished his food when Nanami decided to speak up. He spoke as though he had been thinking of bringing it up the entire time. “Some concerns have been brought up to me.”

“Concerns?” Suguru repeated, brows furrowing. He leaned back in his seat and watched Nanami, who was also finishing up his food. He set his chopsticks aside and wiped his hands on his napkin.

He met Suguru’s gaze then, steady. “Yu has brought it up to me, as well as Shoko. I have also had the same concern.”

“And everyone voted that you bring up whatever that concern is?” Suguru asked. He was surprised by that, if he was honest. He would have thought that Shoko would feel no hesitation in saying something directly to him.

“They thought you might take me more seriously,” Nanami said, honest as always.

“Hm,” Suguru said. “What is it?”

Nanami seemed to consider his words carefully. “We’re concerned about your well-being.”

Suguru almost laughed in his surprise. “What? My well-being?”

“You seem unhappy,” he said. “We’ve all noticed it, on separate occasions. Most recently, we noticed it after that party where you were introduced to Gojo’s colleagues. But Shoko has noticed it earlier, she says, and that it’s only gotten worse”

“Unhappy,” Suguru parroted, mulling over the word in his mind. He tried to take the conversation seriously, since it seemed his friends were taking it so seriously, but he couldn’t come up with a reason why they would think so. His mind went, inevitably, to Satoru. “What does Satoru think?”

Nanami seemed surprised by that question. He tilted his head. “What does Satoru think?”

Suguru felt almost incredulous at that. “Well, as my friends, you have gathered together to ask me quite seriously if I am doing alright. You didn’t ask my best friend what he thinks of it?”

Nanami, for a moment, looked completely astounded. “Geto-san,” he said, never having lost the respect he had for Suguru as an older student. “Why on earth would we ask Satoru, when he’s the reason you’re upset?”

Suguru felt his face turn blank. He stared at him, and a numbness spread through his mind and in his chest. “What are you talking about?”

Nanami frowned, as though he was completely confused. “Geto-san, we’re worried about you being alright here because of Satoru.”

Suguru had always felt protective of Satoru. Satoru was also protective, and jealous, and very capable, so there had never been many moments throughout their lives that Suguru had to protect him at all. Something about this, despite it being well-meaning and from a friend, made that well up within Suguru like a tsunami.

“Because?” He repeated, strained.

Nanami nodded. “He can be… quite thoughtless… when it comes to you.”

Something was welling up in him, strong enough that it would be difficult to extinguish. “Thoughtless.” He found that he could only repeat the words that were being said to him. Any more and he might have said something he regretted.

Nanami knew that he was treading waters people typically tried not to tread if they knew Suguru. It seemed he really was the best option out of the three of them, given neither Haibara nor Shoko would have had enough finesse to not immediately anger him.

“Geto-san,” Nanami said, trying to soften his tone. “I am not being cruel or intending to insult him when I say that he is selfish. He just is. Particularly when it comes to you. We are just concerned that in his own misery without you here, he hadn’t stopped to consider how you might have felt.”

“Is it the general consensus that I didn’t want to come?” Suguru asked tersely. “Does everybody think that I did not also miss him?”

“We know that you did,” he conceded. “But this…arrangement, seems to not be making you happy.”

“Tell me then,” he said, “what you all have determined will make me happy. What’s my alternative?”

Nanami sighed quietly and folded his hands in his lap. “I am not trying to upset you.”

“I know,” Suguru stated. He did know that. It just didn’t matter. “I am trying to figure out what you all would have me do then. If not this, then what?”

Nanami shook his head. “It was never intended to be a criticism. Only a question. To see if you were really alright. And if you weren’t, what could we do to help.”

Suguru softened despite himself. He let out a heavy sigh, head tipping back as he stared up at the ceiling of the restaurant they were in. He shook his head, too, feeling stupefied and even somewhat helpless. “There’s nothing to be done. Any change that needed to happen would have needed to be done the day we met. And even if you could offer me a time machine to take me back to change it, I’d destroy your time machine and tell you to fuck off.”

Nanami smiled then, amused and fond. “You’re selfish, too,” he said. “Don’t worry. That’s not lost on us.”

Suguru found himself smirking back. “I appreciate the concern. Satoru and I are fine.”

And they were. 

They were always fine. Even when they had been able to graduate high school and they got into the biggest argument they’d ever had. Even then, when they’d both hurt each other so much it’d been hard to handle, they were fine. It’s just the way it was, with them. Suguru hadn’t been lying when he’d told Satoru he was his one and his only. He was.

Before university, Suguru had told Satoru he was going to go abroad for the summer, and Satoru had reacted so poorly that Suguru went off on him for being selfish. It was exactly what Nanami had accused him of, and even though it was true, it was different. Suguru was the only one allowed to call Satoru selfish, because Suguru was the only thing Satoru was selfish about. No one was allowed to speak on that but him. And even if Satoru was, Suguru didn’t care.

They had argued then, and Suguru had called Satoru selfish, and Satoru had looked so hurt that Suguru wished he could take everything back. But, even then he’d known that it was true. He couldn’t take back the truth. He had told Satoru that he was selfish, and then he’d doubled down, though he tried to be kinder about it.

Satoru wouldn’t talk to him for weeks after that. Suguru had gone on his three month long trip to study a foreign language before starting his university program in anthropology and history. Neither of them said a word to one another the entire time. Suguru had months to think long and hard about what on earth could have made Satoru react so negatively to Suguru going abroad for a few months, when he’d be back soon, rooming with him in college.

Eventually, he’d discerned that Satoru couldn’t stand being on different paths, even if they converged again at the end. He’d considered them the same, the only two in the world who could understand the other. It was true, in Suguru’s opinion, but Suguru felt that this could be true, even if they weren’t geographically together. Satoru, it seemed, never had been able to think so. And now that they were back together, after three years apart, Suguru concluded the same. Satoru couldn’t stand distance. And it made him mean.

When Suguru got home later, Satoru was already in his apartment, playing Suguru’s switch. He looked up, pouting, and then ignored him in favor of going back to whatever he was playing.

Hearing Nanami’s questions, accusations, and thinking of the first and only time they fought had drained Suguru. He dropped his jacket on the arm of the couch and then went to lay straight on top of him. 

“Hey, caterpie,” he said, head resting on Satoru’s sternum below the switch.

Satoru seemed to drop whatever he was pouting about, because he set the switch to the side and wrapped his arms around Suguru’s shoulders. “What’s wrong, woolly bear?” He asked, painfully earnest and worried. He wriggled down until Suguru was further up on his chest. He stuffed his face into the top of Suguru’s hair.

He hadn’t called Suguru that in a long time. It was embarrassing, as he was sure it was embarrassing for Satoru when he called him caterpillar. It made his face heat up, but thankfully it was hidden. “Nothing’s wrong,” he got out eventually.

Suguru wrapped his arms around him, wedging his arms tight beneath where they were lying on the couch. Satoru let him, quiet for a few moments, before he prodded again. “I know that’s not true. You were out with Nanami. Did he say something?”

Suguru wasn’t sure what he could say. Satoru knew him too well for him to bother with any variation of the truth. “Dinner was fine,” he said, since that was honest. It was the after part that pissed him off. He decided to go with another full truth. “Just missed you.”

Satoru was very pleased by that, it seemed. He hummed, pulling Suguru further up until he was fully on top, and his face was tucked over Satoru’s shoulder. He buried his face back into Suguru’s hair. “Wish we could go everywhere together, the way we did when we were kids.”

Suguru smiled, eyes sliding shut. He nodded and hummed his agreement.

Satoru pet his hair, the way Suguru often would for him. “Tell me what’s wrong, Suguru,” he said again, more pleading that time.

“Nothing, caterpillar,” Suguru murmured. He turned his face in, nuzzling into Satoru’s cheek. “I promise, it’s nothing.”

“There’s no way you just missed me.”

“And why not?” Suguru huffed. “You think I don’t ever miss you?”

Satoru was quiet for a moment. “Not like I miss you.”

Suguru couldn’t help it. He kissed his face a few times. “Not true. You’re just more of a brat about it.”

Satoru squirmed, affronted, but didn’t do anything else. “You missed me so much in the ten hours we haven’t seen each other that you’re like this?”

Suguru ignored the challenging tone. He wouldn’t argue about it because there was no way he was going to tell Satoru what Nanami had said. “I just found myself thinking about not being near each other, while I was on my way home.”

He was purposely vague. He meant the time he’d been abroad, but Satoru would think the years they spent living in different cities.

“Like… before you moved here?” Satoru asked, voice quiet. “Or, like… in the future?”

Suguru lifted his head at his tone. He stared down at him. Satoru met his gaze head on, even though he looked upset and worried still. His brows, as light as they were, furrowed, and his eyes looked like indigo in the dim light. Suguru, even though maybe it was going a bit too far, reached up and thumbed at his cheek. Their faces were close. “Not in the future,” he said. “We did our time. No more separations.”

Satoru’s eyes were flickering between Suguru’s, like he was determining if he was being honest. “No matter what?” He challenged. “Like truly, no matter what?”

“Is there anything?” Suguru questioned. He couldn’t think of a single situation that would make him leave without Satoru, now that they were free from university. 

“Not for me.”

“And why do you think for me?”

Satoru’s mouth turned into a line, and his chin tucked slightly. His gaze shifted away then, like he was upset, and maybe even ashamed.

“Tell me.”

“Things have always been different for you.”

Suguru knew what he meant. It was something they spoke about probably once per milestone. When they went to middle school, when they went to high school, when they went to college, when Satoru moved to start his new job. Now Suguru was graduating again, so he supposed they were due for another. 

“What do I always tell you?” He asked, and even he could admit that his exasperation sounded fond.

Satoru didn’t reply, but he did look admonished to some degree. 

“Nothing has changed,” Suguru said. “I feel the same, as I always have, and the same as you always have. We’re just different people, so it looks different sometimes.”

“I know,” Satoru muttered. 

“Then stop challenging me,” Suguru said. He kissed his cheek and then settled back down, chin over his shoulder again. “I’ll kick your ass.”

Satoru wrapped his arms around him again, tighter that time. “I’d kick your ass harder.”

Suguru pinched him, and Satoru yelped quietly and pinched him back. They remained lying down, content. Suguru heard the ghost of his friends in the back of his mind. You comforted him again. You were upset and somehow, you ended up comforting him. 

And he banished those thoughts. Because yeah. That’s how it went. And that’s how he liked it.

 

__________

 

An argument with Shoko, a near-fist fight with Haibara, and one silent treatment to Nanami later, and Satoru had nearly sabotaged all of his friendships. Suguru was in the middle, as he often was when Satoru did things like that.

His argument with Shoko had started mild, and ended serious. They had started with their typical ribbing, and when it started to seem like she was about to hurt his feelings, Suguru cut in. She made a dig at Suguru needing to play guard dog, and that had set Satoru off. He had said scathing things to her, until she stood up and walked out of the apartment.

Haibara and Satoru’s almost fist fight had gone similarly. Haibara and Satoru were roughhousing and when Haibara had reached for Suguru when they got close, Satoru stopped playing and slammed him into the ground. Suguru had to pull him off before anything else happened. 

Nanami had been there, too, and he was so angry that he’d told Satoru he was “an oblivious prick whose stupidity affected everyone around him.” Satoru hadn’t spoken to Nanami since, though he’d apologized to Haibara for being too rough.

And Satoru, embarrassingly, was perfectly at ease with it. He sat in Suguru’s apartment, snuggled right up to him on the couch, seemingly very happy that they weren’t with anyone but each other.

When Suguru had mentioned it, and that they hadn’t seen Shoko in a while, Satoru had just held onto his arm tighter, shrugged, and said, “that’s her problem.”

Suguru found himself googling adulthood regressions, as though somehow Satoru had slipped back into his thirteen-year-old mindset. Everything he found told him that Satoru was anxious. Suguru gave up. That much and been obvious.

He found himself thinking back to when they were fifteen, about to start high school, and Suguru had introduced Satoru to someone he’d known from his middle school that would be joining their class in high school. Satoru had destroyed that potential friendship with a gleam in his eye the entire time.

“I’m mad at you,” Shoko said, when Suguru called her after a week of radio silence.

Suguru had expected as much. He sat on the edge of his bed, shoving his feet into his slippers. “I know.”

“I don’t want to speak to you right now.”

“I’m sorry for upsetting you,” he said.

“You didn’t upset me. But you didn’t defend me.”

Suguru nodded along, though she couldn’t see. “Yeah.”

“And I’m mad at you because if given the chance right now, you’d do it again.”

Suguru hesitated a moment, but ended up being honest anyway. “Yeah,” he repeated.

She sighed heavily. “This is why it is the way it is, Suguru. It works. He does this and it works.”

“It does work,” Suguru agreed, laughing despite the fact that it was serious.

Shoko did not seem amused. “You’re likable. He knows that. He can’t stand that you can make other friends.”

“I’ve known that since I was six,” he reminded.

“You’re both assholes,” Shoko sighed. “The only difference is that you have good manners.”

Suguru laughed and stood up. He made his way to his kitchen to start breakfast, even though it was almost eleven. “I know.”

“You’re happy?” She asked.

“Yep,” Suguru said, because he was tired of the insinuation he wasn’t. Just because he loved Satoru in more than one way didn’t mean that he was unhappy. It wasn’t so black and white as happy and unhappy. It was just the way it was, and it was unfortunate, but only on some occasions.

“And the only reason you don’t tell him is because you know he’ll go along with it.”

That was quite the simple way to phrase it. “He is…” he searched for the right word. “Attached… to me.”

Shoko snorted. “No shit.”

“If he knew that, he’d be able to do whatever the fuck he wanted. Isn’t he bad enough?”

Shoko burst out laughing suddenly, and Suguru pulled the phone away from his ear as the sound buzzed loudly into his head. “You’re so right.”

He had also said it quite simply, but that was what it was, really. If Satoru knew that Suguru loved him, wanted him, he would do something about it, and Suguru would never know if it was because he really wanted to, or because he didn’t want to lose Suguru. It’d scare him, to not love Suguru back. He’d be afraid that if he didn’t, Suguru would go away, and he’d do anything to avoid that. And that made Suguru feel sick. That was what made Suguru unhappy. 

Shoko quieted down, and then she sighed, sounding much more serious and melancholic. “He’s so selfish,” she said, almost fondly that time. “If he was even an iota more adjusted, maybe none of this would be a problem. He’d be happier, you’d be happier, and he wouldn’t burn all of his bridges with everyone else.”

“He would be happier,” Suguru agreed. He wished that for Satoru, too.

“And so would you.”

Suguru didn’t say anything that time, because it was true.

 

__________

 

Suguru had absolutely zero reason to feel jealous over Satoru’s distant cousin, but he found himself antsy as he watched them speak. 

He had met Satoru for lunch at a restaurant near to Satoru’s building, and apparently Okkotsu had also been on lunch, at the same place. He saw Satoru’s hair from the window, he said, and came in to say hello.

Satoru had ushered Okkotsu into the spot beside him, and suddenly they were all having lunch together.

This was why they were the same, and Suguru couldn’t, in good faith, fault Satoru for the way he acted. He wanted to grab Okkotsu by the collar and drag him out of the restaurant. 

He had no worries about Satoru liking Okkotsu more than Suguru, but it was always odd to see him eagerly give attention to someone else. Someone else, in a real way. In fact, Okkotsu was one of the only people it’d ever really happened with.

Okkotsu seemed to be uncomfortable eating with the two of them. Suguru knew that Satoru had gone to lecture him about being nice to Suguru. It was why he felt so put off by the fact that Satoru still liked having him around. Satoru had just never been the type to get over a grudge, and the quickest way for Satoru to dislike someone was if they disliked Suguru.

“I just feel so fatherly toward you, Yuta-kun,” Satoru said, annoyingly, as he reached over to pinch his cheek.

Okkotsu looked incredulous at that, but shook him off and said nothing. He was hunched in on himself, not looking at either of them.

Suguru swallowed down the rice that was in front of him, though it tasted like ash.

“How—uh…Geto-san, how are you liking it here so far?”

“It’s very nice, thank you,” Suguru said lightly. “I enjoy the food quite a bit, and everything is very close to me. I was lucky to find a good spot.”

“It’s not so far from Gojo-san, right?”

“Right,” Suguru said. He wished Okkotsu would leave.

Satoru put his chin in his hand as he looked across the table at Suguru. “Only a few minutes,” he said, smiling.

Suguru smiled back at him, though he did not feel like smiling.

Okkotsu looked between them, eyes narrowed, but when Suguru looked at him, his expression turned blank again. 

Suguru raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. He turned back to his food. Satoru caught Suguru’s look, so he started to look between them. Okkotsu was also looking at his food, so he had seen nothing awry. He felt Satoru nudge his foot questioningly, but Suguru pretended that he hadn’t. 

Satoru seemed somewhat on edge for the rest of the lunch, until Okkotsu said he needed to go back. He started to leave money, but Satoru had insisted on paying, and let him scamper off back to their building.

The moment he was out of the restaurant, Satoru was looking to Suguru questioningly. 

“I don’t think your cousin likes me very much,” Suguru explained.

“Huh?” Satoru asked, seeming surprised. “What could he possibly have a problem with?”

Suguru shrugged and took a sip of his water. “Beats me. He can have a very eerie and serious expression when he wants to.”

Satoru frowned. “He’s… hmm. Yuta can be intense. He didn’t have a good life, before. He doesn’t have good family either. It’s a miracle he was able to get an internship with my end of the family.”

Suguru hummed. He knew Okkotsu’s background. Satoru had explained it to him when he first joined. “I know. I did not expect that he would be so wary of me though.”

Satoru frowned again, deeper that time, and looked out the window, in the direction of their building that Okkotsu had gone toward. “I don’t know either.”

“Maybe he feels frustrated about my coming here,” Suguru guessed. “If he hasn’t had good people in his life, maybe he feels a bit jealous now that I’m back with you.”

Satoru looked back at him, considering. “But he should have known that… He knows about you. He should have known what it’d be like, when you came.”

Suguru just shrugged again.

Satoru seemed very put off by the situation. Like it was incomprehensible that a friend he’d made on his own wouldn’t fit perfectly into what he’d hoped for when Suguru came. If anything, the fact that he was family seemed to make it worse. Satoru seemed almost betrayed.

“It’s ok,” Suguru said, trying to be soothing. “He hasn’t said anything to me. Just seems wary. There’s nothing wrong with being hesitant about new people, especially if he hasn’t had good experiences before.”

Satoru continued to frown, as though he wouldn’t be able to let it go. Suguru felt a little better about that.

 

 

It seemed Okkotsu couldn’t let it go either. Suguru wasn’t sure if Satoru had said something, but it seemed that Okkotsu knew that he could potentially find Suguru at the cafe nearby their building when Suguru wanted to work on his homework.

Suguru had been sitting at a table for a few hours when Okkotsu came in, looking nervous, and then approached Suguru after spotting him.

“Hello, Okkotsu-san,” Suguru said, closing his laptop. “Is something wrong?”

Okkotsu looked at the open seat and when Suguru nodded for him to sit down, he hurriedly sat and put his elbows up on the table and folded his hands. The longer he sat there, the more determined he looked, and the nerves melted off of him. That dark, droopy look returned to his eyes as he stared at Suguru. 

“Gojo is not happy with me,” he said eventually.

Suguru nodded along. “Alright… Why?”

“He’s mad I don’t like you.”

Suguru smiled at his straightforwardness. “He tends to not like it when people don’t like me.” He also doesn’t like it when people do.

“You don’t seem surprised I don’t like you.”

“You’re not subtle, Okkotsu-san,” Suguru said simply. “If you would be open to telling me why, I’d be happy to either clear up any miscommunications, or do my best to repair what was damaged.”

Okkotsu did not seem to care for Suguru’s attempt at being civil. “I don’t like you because I don’t trust you. Gojo really cares about you, and I find it weird how all of this happened. And meeting you just confirmed it. I think you’re a snake.”

Suguru laughed. “If you’re worried about me doing something to Satoru, or hurting him in some way, I can assure you that’s the last thing that would happen.”

“Too late,” Okkotsu said, snippy and angry. “You already have.”

That took him aback. His smile turned a little sharp, he was sure. “Oh? In what way?”

“You never visited him. You never talked to him. He constantly thought you hated him or weren’t going to ever come to live here. And then you get here and suddenly he’s not spending time with anyone anymore. He never eats with us, he never goes out after work, he’s fighting with Nanami-san even—you string him along just to blow up his life when you get back.”

Suguru couldn’t help it. He snorted once, and then covered his mouth while he began to laugh. “That motherfucker,” he said, feeling another strike of fondness for Satoru.

Okkotsu looked annoyed at his reaction.

“He’s a liar, Okkotsu,” Suguru said, pulling out his phone. “I visited him as much as I could, but I often couldn’t. I spoke to him endlessly though, and he definitely knew I was coming out here to live with him when I was able to.” 

Okkotsu blinked at him. He watched Suguru's hand as he pulled up Satoru’s contact to call him.

“And I’m definitely not the one fucking up our mutual friendships.” He put the phone on speaker and set it on the table.

“Suguru!” Satoru cheered when he answered. “What’s up?”

Suguru looked at Okkotsu with a smug smile, unable to help himself. “Caterpillar,” he said, voice soft.

“Ah—ugh,” Satoru said, though he didn’t complain. Okkotsu’s face turned red in Satoru’s stead.

“I have a very distraught cousin of yours in front of me who seems to be under the impression that I abandoned you here with no regard for your feelings, and then had alienated you from our friends when I moved in.”

Satoru was dead silent, and Okkotsu looked mortified. 

“What?” Satoru said eventually, sounding bewildered. “He—what?”

“Geto-san,” Okkotsu said, choked. “I—Gojo-san—”

“Yuta is there?” Satoru demanded. “Confronting you? About being mean to me?”

Suguru put his chin in his hand, mouth still stretched. “Mhm.”

Okkotsu put his face into his hands. “Gojo-san, is it true that he didn’t do anything you said he did?”

“Yuta-kun!” Satoru cried. “How could I ever lie to you? I was abandoned up here while Suguru was in grad school, and he didn’t visit nearly as much as he should have, and he only ever called me once a day.”

Okkotsu stared at the phone, then stared at Suguru. “Oh my god,” he said. His hand went to his forehead. “Oh my god.”

Suguru looked back down at the phone. “Satoru, I’m going to kick your ass later.”

“Noo,” Satoru whined. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You quite literally did,” Okkotsu argued. “You made it sound like he was evil!”

Satoru was silent for a moment and even Suguru almost cringed. “Suguru is not—Yuta. I have never said anything that would make Suguru sound like a bad friend.”

Okkotsu didn’t seem to know what to say to that. 

“I know that, Satoru,” Suguru soothed. “It’s ok. Just wanted to clear it up.”

“Suguru,” Satoru said, starting to sound upset. He paused. “Take me off of speaker.”

Suguru grabbed his phone and took him off of speaker. He put his phone back up to his ear. “Just me now,” he said.

“Suguru, I’d never, you know that, right?”

“I know, caterpie,” he said gently. “Don’t worry, okay?”

Satoru was quiet for a few moments. 

Suguru stood up and walked away from the table. He lowered his voice a little more. “What’s wrong?”

“I just—I’d never. And I never would have said anything if I thought that’s what he was getting from it.”

Suguru laughed, because he hoped that would make it clear it really didn’t bother him. “I'm not upset, sweetheart,” he said. “It’s ok, it made me laugh when I found out. I know you, and I know what you meant, and that’s all that matters to me.”

“Okay,” Satoru said warily. “See you later?”

“Always,” Suguru said.

Satoru let out a breath and then hung up.

Suguru turned back to the table and sat down. “No hard feelings,” he said easily, looking at Okkotsu again.

Okkotsu ran his fingers through his hair. “He might kill me, but thanks.”

Suguru laughed. “He’ll be upset,” he agreed. “But he would have been upset either way, even if that was all true.”

Okkotsu nodded in agreement. “That’s very true. I was prepared for him to give me the lecture of a lifetime when I came in here.”

“I appreciate that you care enough about him to stand up for him,” Suguru said, “but remember that I’m the last person you’ll need to do that for.”

 

__________

 

Shoko had seemingly gotten over what Satoru had said to her, and she slowly started to weasel her way back in. Part of why Satoru had said it all to begin with was to create distance, but it seemed that he had missed her too much to keep it going, especially since why he wanted distance was silly to begin with.

After what happened with Okkotsu, he had been simultaneously sensitive and then more at ease. With that ease came reconciliation with their friends. They all knew him, and even if Satoru annoyed them on occasion, and insinuated his selfishness, they also knew that he wasn’t, in many other ways. They knew that Satoru was just adjusting, and that at the end of the day, they were all fine, and Satoru meant well.

It was why Suguru could manage them, too. It would have been easy for him to cut them off if they genuinely thought negatively of Satoru.

However, in her wheedling back in, Shoko had started to poke and prod more than she ever had before. Suguru didn’t say anything to her about it, for he felt that it was a lost cause, and Satoru didn’t seem to notice anything about it in particular as insinuating. 

Suguru had settled into the routine at that point, and it seemed that Satoru had, too, finally. He seemed calmer, not as anxious.

They had their routine, and it went as they both expected to, which was what kept everything easy and good. The unhappiness that Shoko and Haibara and Nanami all thought Suguru had was muted and almost non-existent. Everything was normal, and it was exactly as he expected it to be when he moved. It was what he wanted, even, given his options.

Suguru had been out, working on his thesis quite a bit, however. Satoru would just join him whenever he was done with work, but any time that Suguru had where he wasn’t working or at his internship, he was working on finishing his grad program. It was fine and exactly as he expected it would be, but he had less time to spend with Satoru.

Satoru, however, did not seem bothered by this. He would look up Suguru’s location, show up wherever he was, and that was that.

It was almost February, and his birthday was coming up. It was obvious that Satoru was planning something with their friends, so Suguru didn’t mention it when he was out past nine one night and Satoru hadn’t shown up. 

He checked his phone when it was almost ten. He had about thirty minutes left of work when he realized his phone was on one percent. He sighed and pressed the side button. He’d survive thirty minutes without battery. He wasn’t that far from his apartment anyway.

Suguru was about done with revisions for his thesis at that point, but had to finish up a few more things. He wanted the next few weeks to go over it, to read it with fresh eyes. He wanted to only focus on editing and catching errors.

The cafe was quiet at this time of night, so when his headphones signaled disconnection from his phone due to it dying, he just took them off, put both his phone and headphones in his bag, and settled in to finish up. There were only a few other people in the cafe, including the employees, so it wasn’t distracting enough to just give up.

When he was finished, he was packing his stuff up and heading out to walk home when he did feel a pang of regret about his phone dying. He wouldn’t be able to tell Satoru he was going home until he was already there and charging up. If Satoru wasn’t there already, at least. He felt warm at the thought.

But then, as he was walking down the sidewalk, he heard quick footsteps approaching him from behind.

“Suguru!”

Suguru startled and turned at the near-frantic voice. Satoru was approaching him quickly, looking distraught. He stepped toward him. “Satoru?” He asked, bewildered. “What are you…”

Satoru barreled into him, clutching at him, before he started panting, breath coming in heaves. “What the fuck,” he hissed, voice breaking. “What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck.”

Suguru agreed. What the fuck.

“Where the hell were you?” Satoru bit out. 

Suguru felt gobsmacked, entirely confused. “What—Satoru, what? I was at the cafe, like I said earlier.”

“Your location wasn’t updating,” Satoru said, strained. “I thought maybe you were home, so I went to check, and you weren’t there, and you weren’t answering your phone, and your location was just not updating, no matter how many times I refreshed it, and I couldn’t find you.”

Suguru was almost unsure what to say to that. He began to pet Satoru’s hair. “Sorry, caterpie… my phone died.” His voice was soft, careful.

Satoru let out a shuddery breath and pressed his face into Suguru’s shoulder.

“What’s going on?” Suguru asked, hesitant. “Did something happen?”

Satoru didn’t say anything, which either meant nothing happened whatsoever and he was embarrassed, or something happened and he didn’t want to say. Based on the way he seemed to be shaking, Suguru was going to guess something happened.

“Let’s go back to my apartment, okay?” He said, soothing his hand up and down Satoru’s back.

Satoru’s grip on him tightened. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Suguru said, hedging a guess. “Come back home with me.”

“Fine,” Satoru whispered eventually. 

He barely untangled himself from Suguru’s hold, but they managed. They walked the rest of the way, Satoru standing close to his side as they went. Suguru didn’t mention the proximity, but he occasionally made sure their hands brushed, just to remind him that he was with him.

When they got back to the apartment, Satoru was eerily silent. They settled in, still not speaking, until Suguru guided them into his bedroom. He sat Satoru down on the bed and then sat down beside him. Both of their legs hung off the edge, but he figured Satoru would be more comfortable if he didn’t have to look at Suguru.

He still didn’t say anything for several moments, but Suguru didn’t rush him. They sat close together, legs touching. Satoru’s hands were folded in his lap, and Suguru’s were, too. He resisted the urge to pet his hair again. The action, over the years, had started to develop a soothing-by-proxy nature for Suguru, too.

“Shoko talked to me,” Satoru eventually got out.

Suguru felt a monsoon of dread wash over him. “Okay…” he said carefully.

“And I really wanted to see you afterwards. You were gone.”

Suguru frowned down at his lap. “What did she talk to you about?”

Satoru didn’t say anything for several moments. Then, when he spoke, his voice was weak and shaky. “She said that I…” His voice gave out in the middle. He swallowed. “She said that I make you miserable.”

Suguru shut his eyes. He was going to lose his shit the next time he saw her. 

“She said that I never think about your feelings, and that I…” Satoru swallowed audibly. “That I only think about me, and if I could look past my nose, I’d see that you were suffering.”

Suguru was shaking his head before he was even aware of it. “Satoru, don’t listen to her.”

“She asked me the last time I asked you if you were happy, or how you were doing.” His voice turned shakier, weaker, wobbly. “I couldn’t remember, Suguru.”

“I don’t need you to ask me that, caterpie,” Suguru said, starting to feel a little desperate. He turned to look at him, and his heart dropped when he saw that Satoru had tears hanging on his lashes. “I am happy, and I’m doing just fine.”

Satoru reached over and grabbed one of his hands. He held onto it. “I couldn’t find you.”

“Caterpie,” Suguru said sympathetically, squeezing his hand. “I’m sorry, that was the worst time for my phone to die.”

Satoru brought Suguru’s hand up and pressed it to his face. He sucked in a deep breath and let it out slow. “I’m sorry. Forgive me.”

“That won’t be a problem,” Suguru said, leaning into him and rubbing his thumb on Satoru’s cheek. “I don’t even need to forgive you. But if I did, then it’s already done.”

Satoru blinked vacantly at the wall, face still nuzzled into Suguru’s hand. “She’s right though.”

Suguru sighed. “Satoru…”

“She is,” Satoru argued. “I just—I was thinking about me.”

“Okay, so think about me,” Suguru challenged. “What is it I want? What would make me happy?”

Satoru didn’t say anything, and for some reason, that pissed Suguru off.

“You. I want to be with you. That’s what would make me happy.” Suguru leaned further into him. “I’m here with you now. I am happy.”

“You’re not though,” Satoru said miserably. “I know you’re not. I know you. And I know you so well that I kept ignoring it, because I didn’t want it to be true.”

Suguru felt desperate. How could he say it? How could he explain?

“I’m sorry,” Satoru said. He turned his face, mouth brushing across Suguru’s palm. He kissed his hand, and his fingers. It made Suguru’s stomach churn, chest on fire. “I’m sorry, Suguru.”

“I am…” Suguru started, voice raspy, “so much happier here with you, than I have been anywhere else.”

Satoru looked at him, eyes still watery. 

“I swear to you,” Suguru insisted. “There is no where else that would make me happier. In fact, this is the only place that would work. If there’s ever anything that makes me unhappy, it doesn’t have anything to do with how much or how little you’ve done for me.”

“I love you, Suguru,” he said, the words whispered right up to his hand. “I love you so much that it made me selfish.”

Suguru felt like someone had cloven his heart in two. “I know, caterpillar. It’s alright. I like you selfish.”

Satoru shook his head, and he pressed Suguru’s hand up to cover his face almost entirely, like he was hiding. “No,” he croaked. “I love you. I love you like—like—”

Suguru’s heart was pounding.

“For so long I’ve loved you, and it’s made me so selfish, because I thought you wouldn’t feel that way about anyone else if there was just—no one else around. And that was so selfish, Suguru, I’m so sorry.”

“You—” Suguru let out a heavy, quivering breath and tried tugging his hand away from Satoru’s face. “Is that why you asked? The night of the party? You asked if I liked Utahime.”

Satoru cringed. “Yes,” he said. “I was jealous, and if you liked her, I ruined it. The next day I ruined it, and you don’t even know that I did.”

Suguru thought of even Okkotsu. He’d even ruined a potential friendship with Okkotsu. “Satoru,” he breathed. “Are you serious?”

Satoru scrunched up even more, tipping his face further down. “I’m sorry.”

“The reason you’ve always been so—it was because you liked me.”

“God, how many times do I have to say it?” Satoru said, sounding hurt. “Yes, Suguru.”

Suguru pulled his hand fully from Satoru’s face amidst his protests. He ducked his head and kissed him.

Satoru let out a soft sound in surprise. 

Suguru held his face and brought it back up so it was easier to reach. He kissed his mouth once, then twice, and then kissed his cheek. “I love you, Satoru.” He kissed his mouth again, and it was so addictive, the way Satoru sat there stunned, unmoving. “God, I wish you’d have just said, I would have kissed you ten years ago.”

Satoru let out another pitiful sound, like a whimper, and then kissed him back. Suguru pushed him back onto the bed, mouth moving against his so languidly, so fluidly, it was like they’d done it a hundred times. Maybe it was because there was nothing embarrassing about each other anymore, after being friends for so long. There was no way for it to be bad, even though it was probably, objectively, bad.

Suguru thumbed at his jaw to tilt his face up more. “Yeah, baby, open up for me.”

Satoru’s mouth parted, and Suguru licked inside, tongue brushing against Satoru’s before searching the rest. He held Satoru’s face to his own, fingers tangled in his hair, while Satoru softly panted up into him. It was an intoxicating sound, an intoxicating feeling.

“I wanted you so bad, baby, all this time,” Suguru breathed. It was a relief to say it. It was consuming now that the door had opened. He’d locked that door, deep in the cellar of his mind, and opening it was like opening pandora’s box. It was endless, a void, a great void. It poured out of him.

Satoru’s hands were in his hair too. He was breathing so heavily, and it somehow made Suguru feel lightheaded. “Oh my god,” he rasped, “oh my god, please. Please.”

Suguru kissed him so hard that it started to hurt. His lips were numb, his mouth was slick with their spit, and it was getting hard to catch just right with how their mouths slid together. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you, caterpillar, I’m sorry.” He kissed him again, hand finding his nape and bringing him up further into himself.

Satoru’s knees were up, bracketing either side of Suguru’s waist, and he squeezed. “It’s ok, it’s ok,” he whispered, moving to kiss down Suguru’s jaw and then his throat. “Fuck, it’s ok, it’s not like I told you either.”

It felt euphoric, touching him like that, and being touched like that in response. Suguru felt dazed, his mind numb with a pleased heat. “This is it, Satoru,” he found himself saying. He turned his head back down to capture his mouth again. He kissed him, getting lost in it and forgetting to explain. Satoru’s mouth felt so good, so warm, beneath his own.

Satoru moaned softly, hips shifting up into Suguru’s, and Suguru kissed him harder for it.

“This is why,” he breathed into him. “I was never unhappy. Just wanted you. Wanted you so fucking bad.” He kissed him again, reaching down to hold Satoru’s waist while he rocked his own hips into Satoru’s.

“Fucking thank god,” Satoru moaned, hand tangling in Suguru’s hair. He turned over, rolling until he was on top of Suguru. He kissed down his throat, sucking wet kisses into the soft skin of Suguru’s neck. He sucked harder and harder with each one, until Suguru knew it’d leave a mark. “Thank god,” he moaned again. “I swear I would have killed whoever else you might have wanted. I need you. I need you, no one else.” 

Suguru’s head tipped back. “Tell me again. I like it when you need me.”

“I need you,” Satoru repeated, rolling his hips down into Suguru’s. His mouth found Suguru’s ear and he sucked and kissed there, too. “I need you so bad, Suguru, so bad it aches.”

Suguru wrapped his arms around him and ground up into him. “I have you, baby,” he breathed into his hair. He kissed his temple and his cheek, and his mouth. “I have you forever, I swear.”

Satoru let out another whimper. His hips rocked, starting up a rhythm, and Suguru encouraged him along, his own hips rolling up to meet his. Their cocks rubbed together through their clothes, hard and insistent, until Satoru was tensing up, moving quicker, and cumming against him.

His voice was shuddery sweet, high pitched, whiny, and everything Suguru liked. He didn’t mention how quick Satoru had cum because he would have been embarrassed, and Suguru didn’t want to discourage something like that. He wanted him to cum again, and again.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he sighed, incredibly pleased. “Cum for me, baby, fuck.”

Satoru moaned, right into his ear, and Suguru thought he had died and ascended to another realm. The sound of Satoru cumming, the feeling of him cumming, pressed up so close, put him over the edge too. He bucked up, letting out his own groan, and came right up against Satoru. 

Satoru slumped into him, hips jerking with the aftershocks. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“I love you,” Suguru murmured back, kissing his cheek and every other inch of his face he could reach. “God, I’ve always wanted to say that. I love you, baby.”

Satoru shook slightly, and his nails scraped lightly against Suguru’s scalp. “And you really mean it? You’re happy with me?”

“God Satoru,” Suguru breathed. “You make me happier than anything. You made me happy before, and now, I’m so happy I feel like I might have died.”

Satoru lifted his head just enough to kiss him. His mouth was warm, soft, and cushiony. “Promise to tell me if you ever feel differently. So I can fix it. And I swear I will, I’ll fix anything. I can’t lose you, alright?”

“Don’t act like I’d be any less devastated to lose you,” Suguru whispered back, voice a little harsh. “It’s you and me.”

Satoru whispered dutifully back. “Me and you.”

 

__________

 

Satoru was gone when Suguru woke up the next morning. He turned over, hoping to see him still asleep, and when he saw the empty bed, he frowned. He went to turn on his phone but realized it was still dead from when he’d been at the cafe all day. He plugged it in to the cord at his bedside table and waited for it to turn back on. He was half sat up, fingers tapping impatiently on the back of the phone.

He quickly loaded up the find my friends app and tapped on Satoru’s name. He seemed to be in Suguru’s building, but Suguru couldn’t hear him anywhere in the apartment, and his place was small enough that it was definitely possible to hear anyone no matter where they were.

As Suguru was about to start spiraling, the door opened and footsteps clambered in without any attempt at being quiet.

Suguru stood up, leaving his phone on the bed as he made his way over to the door and then out of the room.

Satoru had a plastic bag in his hand that looked like takeout of some sort, and he was walking into the kitchen. His face was pinched, as though he was stressed, and that made Suguru’s heart drop further into his  stomach.

When Satoru saw Suguru, he froze in the hall. They faced each other silently.

“Good morning,” Satoru said, face slowly turning red.

“Getting breakfast?” Suguru said, very conscious of how strained he sounded. 

Satoru didn’t look comforted by his tone of voice. He nodded, shifting his weight from side to side. Even though he seemed uncomfortable, he still looked over Suguru’s face carefully. He didn’t seem to like what he found, because he turned away and went into Suguru’s kitchen. He began untying the bag. 

Suguru stepped in after him, feeling like he was walking on a bed of nails. He lingered in the doorway. All of the relief and happiness he’d felt the night before dwindled into a rotting mess in his chest. 

“Did I…” he paused, trying to think of the best way to phrase it. “Did I really misinterpret you last night?” 

He didn’t think that could be possible, given all of the things Satoru said, but he couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that Satoru had left to get breakfast, and then returning looking so frazzled.

Satoru tensed up, shoulders drawing up toward his ears. “No,” he said, voice delicate. He continued to unload the styrofoam boxes that held the food. He set them on the table. 

That response only confused Suguru more. “What’s wrong?” He asked, voice failing to a whisper. “Did I do something?”

Satoru shook his head immediately. He turned a little, finally. His eyes were shifty. “You didn’t do anything, of course not.”

Satoru’s face was turning pink again, so Suguru stepped toward him. He reached out, feeling hesitant, and held his face in his hand. “Why’d you leave?”

Satoru looked anywhere but Suguru’s eyes. “I, uh, woke up before you, and saw you sleeping, and just couldn’t take it.”

Suguru let go of him, sucking in a sharp breath through his nose.

“Ah—no,” Satoru said, sounding desperate. He pitched after him, holding onto his hands. “I didn’t mean it like that, I’m sorry.”

Suguru’s jaw worked where it began to tense. “Tell me what you mean.”

“I was scared,” Satoru admitted. “Of you waking up, and regretting it. I didn’t want to wake you and see it and I didn’t want to sit and wait for you to wake up while I worried about whether you were going to tell me you were angry at what I’ve done for the past ten years. I felt too antsy, so I got breakfast.”

Suguru let Satoru hold onto his hand. He stood there for a moment, silent, unsure of what to say. “I wasn’t lying when I spoke yesterday.”

Satoru slumped a little. He shuffled forward and let his head thunk onto Suguru’s shoulder. He nodded a few times. “Sorry,” he said.

Suguru reached up and pet his hair, as he always did. His fingers ran gently through the hair at his nape, brushing through the tangles, rubbing lightly into his skin. 

Satoru shivered a little, and then shuffled closer, arms coming up to wrap around Suguru’s waist.

“I thought you ran off because I misread things, or because you didn’t want us like that.”

Satoru shook his head, face rubbing into his shoulder. “No, I’m sorry,” he croaked. “I was selfish again.”

Suguru sighed. He wrapped his arms around him and hugged him back.

“But…” Satoru started, voice muffled and hesitant. “But there is one thing.”

Suguru nodded, trying not to tense up too much in anticipation. “What’s that?”

Satoru leaned into him, and he clutched at the back of Suguru’s shirt. “I can’t handle you leaving me.”

Suguru frowned over his shoulder. 

“I literally can’t,” Satoru said. “I don’t think that I’d be able to survive that. You have to stay with me. If you aren’t sure you’ll stay with me, then we can’t do this.”

Suguru turned his head, catching Satoru’s cheek with his mouth. He kissed him once, then twice, and then held his face again to draw his mouth to his. Suguru’s mouth pressed to Satoru’s softly, less of a kiss and more of a reassurance, the same way he would pet Satoru’s hair when he was upset.

Satoru returned the kiss, slow and a little shy. It was cute.

“I’d rather die, baby,” Suguru murmured. He kissed him again, not even wanting to bother getting into all of the details on why that was the most absurd concept he could ever imagine. “Hurting you, leaving you, are both your number one signs that it’s not me. I’ve been cloned. I’ve gone clinically insane. Someone has a gun to your head unless I say it.”

Satoru pulled back far enough to blink at him. His mouth was charmingly kiss-bruised and pink. Suguru stared at his mouth. He wanted to kiss him again. “You really love me? Like—in that way?”

“I love you so much,” Suguru said. “So much that I have to love you in every conceivable way.”

Satoru swallowed audibly.

“If anything, I should be the one asking that,” Suguru said. “Are you certain that this is the way you want me? It’s not just because you don’t want to lose me, or let anyone else have me?”

Satoru blinked owlishly, and then a little more confused, and then he looked annoyed. He pulled back a little more. “Huh? What the hell else does it mean to not want to lose you or let anyone else have you to the point I want you to fuck me, except for that I love you like that?”

Suguru blanched. Well, he supposed, that was probably true. Then, his brain caught up with what Satoru said, and a sick sort of glee filled him, wrapping him up in it. He walked Satoru back until he hit the fridge. His hands roamed down to Satoru’s waist, and then down to slip up underneath his shirt. He began kissing down his throat. “You want me to fuck you, huh?”

Satoru let out a strangled sound, hands moving to his shoulders like he was going to push him back. He didn’t push, however, he just tilted his head back and let out a soft, pleased sigh. 

“Wasn’t sure if you’d let me,” Suguru murmured, trailing back up to Satoru’s ear. He kissed over the shell. “Thought maybe I’d have to convince you.”

“Want you inside,” Satoru rasped. “Always.”

Suguru let out his own soft sound, mouth finding its way back to Satoru’s. 

“Used to think about it,” Satoru whispered, like he was confessing. “Before I even knew how boys had sex, I would think about how I wanted to cut myself open, and put you in my chest.”

Suguru’s cock throbbed. He, personally, had no sexual interest in extreme gore, but he did have sexual interest in Satoru being so obsessed with him that he thought of things like that. He pressed up into him, parting Satoru’s mouth with his so that he could slide his tongue against Satoru’s. “You’re such a fucking freak, baby, I love you.”

“Then I got older,” Satoru breathed between kisses. “Found out there was a better way for you to be inside.”

Suguru felt like he was going to lose his mind. His fingers trailed over Satoru’s stomach, finding their way low on the waistband of his sweatpants. 

“It was the worst in university,” he continued on, like a floodgate had opened. He was almost panting, words muffled by Suguru’s kisses, the wet sound of their tongues louder than his voice. “When we would sleep in the same room, I felt so empty.”

Suguru sucked in another sharp breath. His hands moved to the small of Satoru’s back. His hands slid beneath the waistband, and he slid his fingers right where Satoru was talking about. His fingers prodded right at his entrance, unable to help himself. “You’d lie in bed and feel empty because I wasn’t inside you?”

Satoru moaned, nodding, legs shaking, and then his hips jerked up into Suguru’s. “I want you to live in my skin,” he moaned. His hands tangled in Suguru’s hair as he shifted his legs farther apart so Suguru could reach better. “Fuck, baby, please.”

Suguru kissed over his jaw. “Gotta do this right,” he said. “So it doesn’t hurt.”

“Don’t care, do it now, please,” Satoru breathed, tugging him closer.

“I just promised you I wouldn’t hurt you,” Suguru murmured, pressing featherlight kisses over his cheek. “I won’t.”

“Please, woolly bear,” he whined.

Suguru laughed, kissing his way back to his mouth. He pulled his hand out of Satoru’s pants. “We have forever, caterpillar. I’m not gonna rush you, when we have all the time in the world.”

 

___________

 

Satoru was very shameless. Suguru minded, but he also didn’t mind at the same time. If he minded Satoru’s shamelessness that much, they never would have stayed friends, but sometimes he really did take it quite far.

Suguru was lying back on his sofa, Satoru on top of him while he kissed him. He had his hands on Satoru’s waist, ready to shove him off when Shoko inevitably came out of the bathroom, but Satoru didn’t seem to have that in mind whatsoever. He had his arms wedged under Suguru, beneath his neck, and moved so rhythmically against him that Suguru was worried he was going to pop an unfixable boner.

Satoru’s mouth was warm and wet, as it always was, and the feeling of that, the texture of his tongue and his soft lips, was so addictive, every time they started Suguru felt like he couldn’t stop. How does a person stop consuming something they’ve craved for so long?

It seemed that Satoru felt the same way, because every moment he had an opportunity to climb all over him, he did.

“Jesus Christ,” Shoko immediately yelled.

Suguru startled, completely having lost track of time, and when he went to push Satoru off, Satoru only huffed, made a noise of displeasure, and buried himself deeper. His knees had been on either side of Suguru’s waist, so he tightened them until Suguru quite literally couldn’t push him off. He had been a star athlete his entire life for a reason.

“Satoru,” Suguru murmured against his mouth. “Come on.”

Satoru just shook his head. He kissed him more, angling his head a different way. His mouth parted against Suguru’s, and the feeling of his tongue from that direction had Suguru shutting his eyes again. Satoru had not been kidding, he discovered, when he’d said he wished Suguru could live in his skin. It was like every chance he got, he was on him, kissing him, or asking to be fucked.

Suguru felt like he was going crazy.

His front door slammed shut a moment later. 

“Thank god,” Satoru sighed, pleased. He began to roll his hips. “I want you.”

Suguru felt as though he was being worshipped half the time. It was addictive, to feel wanted by the only person that he wanted. Was there anything better, than being wanted by his person?

“You can’t just start kissing me every time you want someone to go away,” Suguru murmured, sliding his hand up the back of Satoru’s shirt.

“I can,” Satoru said gleefully, “and I’m going to. Because you’re mine.”

Suguru hummed. His own hips shifted up when Satoru rolled against him just right. “Yeah, baby.”

“It’s perfect,” Satoru practically purred. “No one respected that you were mine when we weren’t doing this. Even though you were, since the beginning. Now I can just kiss you and they’ll get it.”

Suguru laughed. He turned them over, though it required some effort given both of their sizes on his couch. Satoru was pliant, though, so when he turned over, Satoru worked with him.

He settled back into the cushions, very pleased, and Suguru kissed him for that. He kissed him for being pleased, for being good. He figured Satoru would like to hear it, so he said it.

“You’re so good,” he murmured, moving from Satoru’s mouth to his jaw. “Always been so good for me, but somehow you’re even better.”

Satoru did, indeed, seem to like that. He preened, humming happily and tipping his head to give Suguru more access. “I’ll do anything,” he whispered, “anything that makes you happy.”

“Just keep being good for me like this,” Suguru murmured, right into his ear. “That’s plenty.”

Satoru sighed, pleased again. “Love you.”

Suguru kissed him on his mouth again. “Love you, too, caterpie.”

 

__________

 

They moved into Suguru’s apartment instead. It made no sense, really. Satoru’s apartment was huge and luxurious, but Satoru seemed appalled at the idea. Suguru’s apartment was already their apartment, he’d said. His apartment had been the “cold, merciless tundra,” as he dramatically put it, that he had to brave while Suguru was living away from him.

Suguru had presented his thesis, they celebrated with dinner, and then fucking in a hotel room, and then by going back to Suguru’s apartment the next morning to fuck again there. Satoru then went to his apartment, and Suguru followed, so he could fuck him there next. 

Satoru was crazy. Suguru loved it. Satoru wanted Suguru inside every conceivable moment they could, and if Suguru wasn’t also so obsessed with being inside of him, it might have been overstimulating. But it wasn’t. It was just great. 

After Suguru graduated, Satoru said he was gonna stop paying rent since he was never there anyway, and it was his way of asking if he could move in. Suguru had asked why not just move in together into Satoru’s apartment, and Satoru looked so offended that Suguru had demanded he explain what was so wrong with it. And, he learned, Satoru hated it. He hated all of the memories he had there alone, only talking to Suguru on the phone. He hated how big it was, because if it were up to him, they’d live on top of each other in a dorm room again. Suguru’s apartment was much closer to that than his own.

Their friends found them insufferable, but that hadn’t really been new. Shoko had tried to take some credit, but Satoru got so mad they almost had another fight. She dropped it, eventually. 

But Suguru was happy. Satoru was happy. It seemed that had been all they cared about in the end. 

When Satoru would wake up in the morning, stretch and smack Suguru in the face, Suguru woke up happy. When Suguru would meet him for lunch and Satoru would sit close beside him and lean his head on his shoulder, Suguru ate happily. When other people were around, and Satoru got to be territorial, Suguru was happy. When Suguru himself got to be territorial, he was happy.

Satoru smiled more. He laughed more. He relaxed more. 

Suguru had graduated and he was working in a building down the block from Satoru. And they ate together, went home together, and practically lived in each other’s pockets. And Suguru felt happy.

Shoko started calling his apartment the butterfly house.

Notes:

YAYYY I hope everyone enjoyed!! I have been wanting to do codependent childhood ftl for one hundred years. :) I'm an ottoge girlie so the assistant gojo referenced was inumaki 🤭

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