Work Text:
Satoru wasn’t just one of the popular boys at school, he was the popular boy. Wherever he went, eyes followed him, admirers whispering, and pointing him out in any crowd. Anyone else might’ve found the constant attention annoying, but Suguru didn’t.
Satoru was his best friend. And honestly? It was kind of cute.
It was endearing the way Satoru blushed when someone complimented him, that faint pink blooming across his already perfect features. Not that Suguru thought about Satoru’s features all that much. He just noticed them. Objectively. Like how one might notice a particularly well-constructed bridge or a symmetrical snowflake.
Nothing weird about that.
Satoru was tall, fair-skinned, with blue eyes so bright they seemed to glow under fluorescent lights. His hair was so white that Suguru had been convinced it had to be dyed. Satoru, offended, proved otherwise by showing off his baby photos. A grinning infant with a tuft of white-blond hair and cheeks like peaches. That was the day Suguru stopped teasing him about the bleach.
So yes, Suguru could admit his best friend was… well, attractive. Not hot. That would be weird. Just, like.. ..regularly good-looking. A normal amount of appreciation.
Entirely platonic.
Satoru never made it easier, either. He had the confidence of someone who’d never once tripped over his own shoelaces, always tossing compliments around like it was the simplest thing in the world. “Your hair looks really nice today Suguru,” or, “You could totally get a girlfriend if you tried.” Mortifying, really.
Suguru wasn’t sure of anything. He’d never dated. Never even really wanted to. Girls, boys… neither felt right, or maybe both did and he just hadn’t figured it out yet.
Senior year was nearly over, and that cinematic high school romance everyone talked about, the one with moonlit confessions and sweet kisses at prom, well... it seemed like something meant for other people. College was on the horizon. Maybe he’d find his answers there.
But for now, he was fine. He had Satoru. Loud, ridiculous, golden boy Satoru. Maybe, for now, that was enough.
♥️💗♥️💗♥️💗♥️💗
Suguru was standing by his locker, waiting and waiting for Satoru. Honestly, what was taking him so long? The last bell had rung ten minutes ago. He tapped his foot impatiently while he waited.
They’d been best friends since Satoru stole, allegedly!, the last cupcake in fifth grade. Suguru insisted it was outright theft and Satoru, of course, denied everything with that big dumb grin of his while eating the whole thing right in front of him!
The audacity! Suguru had hated him, deeply and profoundly. With all the dramatic fury he could fit into his eleven-year-old body.
For the next couple months, they couldn’t stand each other. But then Satoru invited Suguru to his birthday party. Which was weird. Who invites their mortal enemy to their birthday party? Suguru didn’t know but he wasn't going to miss the chance to see the Gojo Estate that everyone said looked like a castle. Like with a moat!
Satoru’s family was loaded, apparently. The house was rumored to have marble floors, an indoor pool, and chandeliers that probably cost more than Suguru’s entire house. Maybe Satoru just didn’t have good manners and that’s why he ate the last cupcake.
Rich people were probably never taught about sharing.
Still, Suguru was convinced it was going to be an awful party. He confided in Yuu, his then-best friend, who would soon lose the title, though neither of them knew it yet.
Yuu was nice enough, they’d known each other since they were babies. Their moms went to college together or something. It wasn’t that interesting of a story, but their moms thought it was adorable.
“Yuu, I really don’t want to go,” Suguru whined, flopping dramatically across Yuu's lap. “Everyone there is going to be so stupid.”
“What? You have to go!” Yuu said, running a hand through Suguru's hair like an exasperated parent. “Not everyone gets invited! My mom says he should invite the whole class to be nice, but he doesn’t. It’s, like, exclusive.”
Suguru sat up indignantly. “Well, that’s dumb. He should invite everyone. He’s rude!”
They spent the next fifteen minutes declaring Satoru the worst person alive, selfish, arrogant, cupcake thief extraordinaire! until Yuu's mom called them down for dinner.
Suguru sighed, resigned. It was going to be such a stupid party. He just knew it.
The day of Satoru’s birthday party was bright and unreasonably cheerful, the kind of sunny afternoon that was so unusual in December, like the sun had come out just to make his day more special.
Suguru scowled the whole car ride there. His mom kept saying things like, “Now remember to be polite,” and “This is very generous of Satoru's family.”
Suguru just stared out the window, muttering, “Generous thieves, sure.”
When they pulled up to the Gojo estate, he forgot how to breathe for a moment. It wasn’t just a house; it was a castle. Like bona fide, a real deal castle. Although he didn’t see a moat, he couldn’t be disappointed. Massive white pillars and shiny cars filled the circle driveway. A fountain shaped like a horse sat regally in the center. The whole place looked like something from a movie where the princess got kidnapped and had to be rescued by a band of misfits.
“Wow,” Suguru said before he could stop himself. Then quickly added, “I mean, it’s okay, I guess.”
Inside, kids were running everywhere, laughing, and yelling while Satoru stood in the center of it all wearing a crown like he’d been born to rule and this was his kingdom. The crown was probably real.
Suguru hoped it was heavy.
When Satoru spotted Suguru standing by the doorway, his grin practically split his face.
“You came!” Satoru shouted, skipping over to him.
“Yeah,” Suguru said flatly. “My mom made me.”
Satoru didn’t seem to mind his indifference. “Cool! Want to see the backyard? We have a bounce house!”
And just like that, he was off, dragging Suguru behind him before he could protest. The backyard was even more ridiculous with giant balloon arches, and tables piled with snacks.
Suguru tried not to be impressed. Really, he did. But when Satoru handed him a party hat and said, “You can have the first piece of cake,” something in his brain short-circuited.
“Wait,” Suguru said suspiciously. “The first piece?”
Satoru nodded. “Yeah, last time I stole yours.”
It was the first time Satoru had ever admitted it out loud. The cupcake incident. Suguru was shocked. The lemonade in his paper cup suddenly tasted too sweet. “You… remember that?”
Satoru shrugged, sheepish but smiling. “Yeah. You got so mad, I thought you were gonna throw your lunchbox at me.”
“I was,” Suguru said, but he was grinning too now.
And just like that, something between them shifted, like a gear clicking into place. By the end of the day, Suguru had icing on his shirt, grass stains on his knees, and a brand-new best friend.
Poor Yuu, he never saw it coming.
The sound of a locker slamming somewhere down the hall snapped him out of the memory. For a second, he could still taste that strawberry frosting from years ago, still see Satoru’s crooked crown, still feel that ridiculous flip in his stomach when Satoru had smiled and handed him the first slice of cake.
He shook his head, exhaling through a laugh that came out softer than he meant it to. He really needed to stop zoning out like that. People would think he was daydreaming. Which, okay, technically he was. About his best friend. But not like that.
Obviously.
“Earth to Suguru,” came Satoru’s voice, smooth and teasing, pulling him all the way back to reality.
Suguru turned. And there he was. The living, breathing grown-up version of that fifth grader with frosting on his chin. Taller now, broader, the kind of good-looking that made people trip over their words in the hallway. His tie was loose, shirt untucked in that effortlessly-cool way Satoru seemed to have patented.
“You okay? You looked like you were having a very intense conversation with your locker,” Satoru said, grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Suguru rolled his eyes, “Just thinking. Not that you’d know what that’s like.”
Satoru gasped dramatically. “Wow. Brutal. I’m two minutes late and I get roasted? You wound me.”
“You’re ten minutes late.”
Satoru ignored that, as he always did, leaning casually against the locker next to Suguru's. “You ready? I figured we could stop by the diner before heading home. They’ve got that new milkshake flavor you like.. .. ..what was it? Birthday cake?”
Suguru froze for half a heartbeat.
“Uh, yeah,” he managed, grabbing his backpack. “Sure. Birthday cake’s fine.”
Satoru grinned, slinging an arm over his shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world. “See? I remember the important stuff.”
Suguru's heart did something traitorous in his chest. He told himself it was just nostalgia. Just the echo of a memory that would never really fade.
“Yeah,” he said softly, more to himself than to Satoru. “You always do.”
♥️💗♥️💗♥️💗♥️💗
This time of year was obnoxious. Red and pink everywhere! Paper hearts taped to lockers, glitter confetti crunching under shoes, couples giggling in every hallway corner. It looked like Valentine’s Day had thrown up all over the school.
Suguru hated it.
Satoru, of course, loved it.
He was the walking embodiment of Valentine’s Day, all bright smiles and lazy confidence, trailed by groups of girls whispering behind their hands, plotting elaborate ways to make him their Valentine. It had been like this every year since puberty decided Satoru should go from awkward kid to heart-throb overnight. Suguru didn’t notice exactly. He just… observed. Like a scientist. Who occasionally noticed how Satoru’s gangly arms now had muscles.
That was normal. Perfectly normal.
He was on his way to his locker when a girl stepped directly into his path.
“Hi, Suguru. I…” She froze halfway through the sentence, face turning crimson, and then, without warning, she shoved a pink, lace-covered, bow-infested card into his hands before bolting down the hall.
“Just wanted you to have that!” she called over her shoulder.
Suguru stared after her. “…What?”
Two seconds later, a familiar arm slid around his shoulders, warm and heavy. Satoru's voice dropped into that teasing, too-close drawl.
“Whatcha got there?”
Before Suguru could react, Satoru plucked the card right out of his hand, holding it up like evidence.
“Ooooh, someone put a lot of effort into this one.”
“Satoru!” Suguru hissed, snatching it back, cheeks blazing. “Give it! She seemed nice! Until she, you know, ran away screaming.”
“You’re blushing,” Satoru grinned.
“I am not,” Suguru lied, holding the card protectively against his chest. “Don’t you have a million of these by now?”
Satoru's grin widened, “Only fourteen so far.”
“Only,” Suguru muttered under his breath, following as Satoru threw an arm around him again.
“Come on,” Satoru said, steering him down the hall. “I want to show you something before class.”
Suguru sighed, letting himself be dragged along.
Only fourteen.
He mouthed it again, equal parts impressed and annoyed… and maybe a little jealous, though he couldn’t quite pinpoint why.
♥️💗♥️💗♥️💗♥️💗
Suguru was not prepared for what Satoru wanted to show him. Satoru's locker looked like it had been mauled by some whacked out Valentine’s fairy. Every square inch was plastered with pink paper, shiny hearts, and enough glitter to blind someone. A massive “Be Mine” blared out from the center like a neon threat.
“Oh my god,” Suguru muttered. “It’s hideous.”
Satoru's grin only widened. “Wait till you see the inside.”
He swung the locker door open, and Suguru actually took a step back. It was worse. So much worse.
Balloons spilled out like escaping captives. A giant teddy bear clutching a red sequined heart that read I ❤️ U was wedged between Satoru’s textbooks, fighting for its poor stuffed life. Glitter coated everything. Nothing in his locker had been left unharmed. In the middle of all the chaos sat a massive card, stuffed in next to the bear and plastered with heart stickers. A message read, Be My Valentine, in looping pink letters.
Satoru pulled the card out. No name. No signature. No clue who had unleashed this sparkly catastrophe.
Suguru stared at the chaos, speechless. “Satoru, this is... a war crime.”
Satoru laughed, absolutely delighted. “I’ve got a secret admirer! Isn’t that neat? I’ve never had one before.”
Suguru stared at him. “You’ve got dozens of Valentine cards, and this is what impresses you?”
Satoru just shrugged, that boyish grin lighting up his whole face. “Yeah, but this one’s anonymous. It’s mysterious. Kinda romantic, don’t you think?”
Suguru resisted the urge to roll his eyes so hard they’d fall out.
Romantic. Right. Still, as Satoru reached into the locker to rescue his books which were now permanently dusted in pink sparkles, Suguru couldn’t help watching the way he laughed, the curve of his grin, the way his blue eyes caught the hallway light like something out of a dream.
He quickly looked away.
“Yeah,” he muttered. “Super romantic.”
♥️💗♥️💗♥️💗♥️💗
The next few days were... normal. Or at least, they were supposed to be.
Suguru and Satoru still met before school, at lunch, and after school just like they always did.
Nothing had changed.
So there was absolutely no reason for Suguru to be upset. None. He wasn’t jealous. He wasn’t. It’s just... Satoru wouldn’t shut up about his mysterious Valentine.
All week he’d been obsessed, spinning theories and daydreams like some lovesick detective. “Maybe she’s someone I’ve never noticed before,” Satoru said once, eyes bright. “Or maybe she’s right in front of me and I just don’t realize it yet.”
Satoru talked about how romantic it would be to be swept off his feet, how sweet it was that someone cared enough to go all out. He’d created a whole fantasy in his head.
And it only got worse.
By Friday, Valentine’s Day was less than a week away, and the “secret admirer” was escalating. In second period, Satoru got a delivery right to class, a bouquet made of chocolates shaped like rose buds and wrapped in shiny red foil. Everyone oohed and laughed and whispered, and Satoru just sat there, grinning like it was the best gift he'd ever received.
Who does that? Suguru thought, slouched low in his seat. Who sends food mid-lecture? It was disruptive. Arrogant! And exactly the kind of thing Satoru loved.
Satoru spent the rest of the period happily unwrapping truffles while Suguru stared at his half-finished notes, completely unable to focus. It wasn’t jealousy, it was just a distraction. All the munching made it hard to focus.
Then at lunch, this new admirer really took it too far. A whole cafeteria table was swallowed by pink balloons and flower bouquets. A giant sign hung across it: “Be My Valentine, Satoru!” in big sparkly letters.
Satoru stopped in his tracks, laughing in total delight. “Wow. Okay, this is next-level.”
And Suguru… well, Suguru was fine.
Totally fine.
Not at all dying inside.
Okay, maybe a little.
He didn’t even know what the jealousy was about. Was he jealous of the attention? Or jealous that someone else had found a way to make Satoru smile like that? Maybe both. Maybe neither. He didn’t know!
He just knew that for the first time in forever, Satoru had a secret that wasn’t his to share. And that hurt.
What if this secret admirer became the person for him? What if they turned into one of those hand-holding, PDA-heavy couples that made everyone else nauseous? What if Satoru forgot about him, about them?
He hated that thought more than glitter.
Satoru, meanwhile, was in his element. He leaned down, plucked a single flower from the balloon-covered table, and turned to Suguru with that smile that could light up any darkness.
“For you,” he said easily. “My favorite person.”
The cafeteria noise blurred into insignificance. Suguru took the flower, heat rushing up his face and his heart a chaotic mixture of confusion and a small spark of hope.
Maybe everything would be okay after all.
♥️💗♥️💗♥️💗♥️💗
The rest of the day flew by in a blur, the flower tucked safely into Suguru's shirt pocket like a tiny, ridiculous reminder that he was still important. Every time he caught sight of the bright petal peeking out, his chest did that stupid flutter thing again. He told himself it was just nice to have something thoughtful from his best friend.
That was all. Nothing weird about it.
They already had plans after school to meet up for pizza with a few friends, then the two of them would head back to Satoru’s for a movie. Probably a sleepover too, since Satoru’s house was way out past the edge of town and it always just... made sense.
The pizza parlor hadn’t changed in decades and still had the original checkerboard floors, bright neon lights hanging over the tables and old arcade games in the corner. It was one of Suguru's favorite places.
Their usual crowd had already claimed a booth. Shoko, Utahime, Yuu, and Kento.
Utahime had once had a massive crush on Satoru back in middle school, the kind that involved elaborate doodles of “Mrs. Utahime Gojo” in her math notebook. Nothing ever came of it, and now they had the strangest relationship.
Was it love-hate? Hate-hate? Probably a little bit of both.
Shoko was the rational big sister who would lecture them all but would also stand alongside them while the whole house burned down.
And Kento… well, Kento was Yuu's new best friend. Suguru tried not to be jealous of their relationship. After all, he’d ditched Yuu for Satoru years ago. Fair trade, right?
They ordered two comically large pizzas and spent the first half hour trading updates and jokes over soda refills. For a while, it felt easy and familiar, like every other weekend they’d shared since forever.
But Satoru kept checking his phone. Every few minutes, it buzzed, and his phone face would light up. His thumbs would dance over the screen and he'd smile.
After the fifth time, Suguru was ready to throw the phone into the nearest vat of marinara.
Shoko finally said what everyone was thinking. “So, who’s got your attention over there?”
Satoru blinked, startled, like he’d forgotten he wasn’t alone. “Huh? Oh. Right. Sorry. I’ve just.. ..uh.”
Satoru laughed sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s... my secret admirer. They left a number in my locker at the end of the day. We’ve been texting ever since.”
Suguru's stomach dropped.
“Oh, that’s so romantic,” Shoko said, and everyone else started chiming in, curious, teasing, full of questions.
Suguru smiled automatically, nodding along, but the room suddenly felt too bright and too loud. The neon lights buzzed above his head like static. He picked at a crust he wasn’t hungry for and tried not to stare at Satoru, who was already glancing down at his phone again, thumbs flying, eyes soft.
It shouldn’t have hurt. It really shouldn’t have. But the flower in his pocket suddenly felt heavier than it had all day.
♥️💗♥️💗♥️💗♥️💗
One of Satoru's drivers picked them up from the pizza parlor. Yeah, his driver. One of them.
Suguru still wasn’t used to that. Most of the time it was easy to forget just how rich Satoru was. He didn’t act like it. He was goofy and loud and sometimes a complete idiot, just Satoru.
But then there were moments like this when they would slide into the back seat of a sleek black car with tinted windows, the two of them tucked away while some faceless man in a pressed uniform drove them home.
Usually, they’d talk during the ride. About school, movies, stupid memes, the usual. But tonight Satoru was glued to his phone, thumbs flying, screen lighting up his face in soft blue.
Suguru watched the lights of the city flicker past outside the window and told himself not to care. He really tried. But this was supposed to be their night.
After ten minutes of silence, he wanted to scream. Or maybe grab Satoru's phone and hurl it straight out the window.
He didn’t, of course. Satoru loved that stupid phone, he had it decked out with little charms and a glittery case.
He’d be crushed.
So Suguru just sat there, hands in his lap, pretending not to notice every vibration of Satoru’s phone, every tiny smile he gave to whoever was on the other end.
When they finally pulled up to the Gojo estate, Suguru practically leapt out of the car, desperate for air. Satoru didn’t seem to notice, he was already halfway to the door, still scrolling.
He pocketed the phone at last when they reached his room, which looked more like a hotel suite than a teenager’s bedroom. A king-sized bed sat against one wall, a couch and TV on another, several plush chairs and bean bags scattered across the floor.
They always sat on the couch for movie nights. It was their spot. So that’s where Suguru headed. Satoru flopped down across the bed instead, still glowing with that same distracted energy.
“You can pick the movie,” Satoru said absently, already pulling out his phone again.
Suguru sighed quietly, moving to the shelf. His fingers trailed across the rows of DVDs, not really seeing any of them. He was searching for something, anything, that might pull Satoru back to him. He hadn’t realized it until now, how much effort it suddenly took to hold Satoru’s attention. How unfamiliar that felt. How much it hurt.
He’d never had to compete for Satoru before. And he didn’t like it.
♥️
Suguru queued up the movie, waiting for the familiar sound of Satoru dropping onto the couch beside him. It didn’t come. When he glanced back, Satoru was still perched on the edge of his bed, phone glowing in his hands, thumb tapping out another message.
“Are you going to join me or what?” The words came out sharper than he meant them to.
Satoru's head snapped up, startled. Suguru never used that tone with him.
“Oh.. ..uh, yeah. Of course.” Satoru shoved his phone into his pocket and shuffled over, plopping down beside him with an awkward grin.
Usually, this was their favorite part. The movie would start, the lights would dim, and they’d end up shoulder-to-shoulder under the same blanket. Not weird, just comfortable. Familiar and safe.
But tonight there was a whole cushion of space between them. It felt like a mile.
The movie flickered on, light and shadow washing over the walls. For a few minutes, the only sound was the quiet hum of dialogue from the TV, until Satoru’s phone buzzed again.
Suguru saw the hesitation, then the inevitable as Satoru pulled it out of his pocket.
Something in him just snapped. Before Satoru could touch the screen, Suguru grabbed the phone, spun, and flung it over his shoulder. It landed on the bed with a harmless bounce. Relief hit him like a wave... good, not broken… but God, he was done.
“Hey! What the heck?” Satoru yelped, twisting around.
“We’re supposed to be watching a movie. Together.” Suguru's voice was steady now, but his pulse was racing. “We were supposed to hang out with our friends, together. You’ve been distracted all night.”
Satoru blinked, thrown off by the sudden confrontation. Then he sighed, looking a little sheepish.
“I know, I know. I’m sorry. It’s just… they’re really funny. And they pay attention. Like.. .. ..they get me, you know? I should probably think it’s creepy, but it’s kinda… sweet.”
Suguru rolled his eyes so hard it hurt.
“They ‘get you’? Really? What, because they know you like glitter and overpriced chocolates?”
Satoru laughed quietly. “You’re jealous.”
“I’m not jealous.”
Satoru’s grin softened, fading into something almost gentle. He tugged the blanket off the back of the couch and inched closer until their shoulders brushed.
“Then why do you look like you wanna throw me out the window next?”
“I don’t,” Suguru muttered. “I just wanted to hang out with you. That’s all.”
Satoru’s smile returned, bright and disarming. “Okay.”
He tucked himself under the blanket and rested his head lightly against Suguru's shoulder. His hair brushed Suguru’s cheek, soft and ticklish, and Suguru forgot how to breathe for a second.
The movie played on but neither of them was really watching. For the first time since dinner, Suguru felt the knot in his chest unwind. He didn’t know what this was exactly or why it mattered so much but, right now, with Satoru’s warmth pressed against his side and the phone finally silent, he didn’t care.
♥️💗♥️💗♥️💗♥️💗
By the time the credits rolled, Satoru was fast asleep, sprawled sideways on the couch, using Suguru as a pillow and snoring softly with one arm dangling off the edge.
Suguru stared at him, equal parts fond and irritated.
Bet his secret admirer wouldn’t think this is hot, he thought, still peevish over being ignored for some faceless someone who didn’t even know Satoru the way he did. The real Satoru, the boy who drooled and laughed too loud and fell asleep halfway through every movie they ever watched.
He should’ve looked away, but he didn’t. His eyes lingered on the way Satoru’s pale lashes brushed his cheeks, the steady rhythm of his breathing, the slight curl of his fingers where they rested against the blanket.
Suguru shifted, and Satoru instinctively pressed closer, seeking his warmth.
Suguru's heart gave a violent, traitorous thud. It had been doing that a lot lately. He absolutely was not getting butterflies from his best friend. That would be ridiculous. Completely insane.
“Satoru,” he whispered, nudging his shoulder. “Hey, come on. You should move to the bed before you..”
Satoru didn’t stir. He just furrowed his brow and mumbled something unintelligible, then nuzzled even closer.
Suguru sighed, torn between exasperation and the ache of wanting to stay like this forever. “You’re impossible,” he muttered.
The couch really was too small, and Satoru’s bed was massive, soft, and unnecessarily luxurious which made far more sense. It wasn’t like they hadn’t shared it before. It was purely practical. Nothing else.
Suguru slid his arms under Satoru and lifted him. For someone so tall, he was surprisingly light. Satoru stirred slightly but didn’t wake, just melted into Suguru’s hold like it was the most natural thing in the world.
He carried him to the bed and laid him down gently, the comforter sighing beneath the weight. Satoru sank into it, hair mussed, lips parted, utterly unguarded.
Suguru lingered there, just for a moment, the air still and thick between them.
He looked at him the way you do when you realize too late you can't change anything.
Satoru was beautiful. And Suguru, standing there with his heart thudding like it might beat right out of his chest finally understood what that meant.
He was doomed. Completely, and irreversibly gone for him.
♥️💗♥️💗♥️💗♥️💗
Suguru woke to warmth. Satoru was tucked against him, nose burrowed into his side and arms flung over his chest. It wasn’t unusual, they had a long history of ending up like this, tangled in blankets and each other. Normally, Suguru would’ve laughed, nudged him off, and gone to get breakfast.
Normally.
But after last night, after the moment when he’d realized that maybe, possibly, he had feelings that weren’t exactly friendly, the word normal didn’t fit anymore.
Satoru stirred against him, humming contentedly before blinking sleepily up at him. “It’s always so nice waking up next to you,” he murmured, voice thick with sleep. “You’re so warm.”
It wasn’t the first time he’d said something like that. Satoru was affectionate by nature. Tactile, thoughtless and casual with his touch. But this time it hit differently. The words landed somewhere deep in Suguru's chest and refused to leave.
He swallowed and tightened one arm around him, like maybe he could just stay in this feeling.
“What do you have planned today?” he asked, trying to sound like he wasn’t invested in the answer.
Satoru went quiet for a moment. “Well... I think I’m gonna meet my admirer for lunch.”
The words knocked the air out of Suguru like a punch to the gut. His heart dropped straight through the mattress to land in a pitiful heap on the floor.
“Oh,” he said, and even to his own ears it sounded hollow.
Satoru must’ve heard it too. “Sorry,” he said quickly. “I know we had plans to hang out this weekend, but... I don’t know, Suguru. I’m really excited. This could be the girl of my dreams!”
I think you might be the boy of mine, Suguru thought but didn’t dare say.
He forced a smile. That’s what best friends did, right? They smiled and supported and pretended their hearts weren’t breaking.
“That’s great,” he said, keeping his tone light. “I hope you have a good time. And, you know, that she’s not, like, super ugly or something.”
Satoru snorted, laughing into his shoulder. “That would be tragic, because I think I already like her. A lot.”
Something inside Suguru twisted, tight and painful. He pulled Satoru closer anyway, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead before the emotion could show.
“I’m happy for you,” he said softly. “Really. But before you run off to your big romantic destiny, can we at least see what the cook made for breakfast?”
Satoru perked up instantly, grin bright and boyish. “Yes! I told her to surprise me today and she promised something amazing.”
In an instant he was up, hopping on one foot as he tried to get his slippers on, energy buzzing through the room like sunlight.
Suguru sat up slower, slipping on the soft pair Satoru had bought for him. His slippers, kept here... waiting. The gesture shouldn’t have made his chest ache, but it did.
He followed Satoru downstairs, smiling at the sound of his laughter echoing through the hall. And even though his heart felt bruised, it still beat a little faster every time Satoru looked back at him.
♥️💗♥️💗♥️💗♥️💗
Suguru left after breakfast. One of Satoru's drivers dropped him off, and the whole thing felt like an insult in slow motion. Satoru was getting ready for his dream lunch, primping as though he needed a minute to become even more magnificent, and Suguru felt like someone had folded his stomach into origami.
On the ride home he tried to talk some sense into himself. Maybe the date would be a disaster. Maybe Satoru would hate her or she’d have bad breath, or an even worse laugh. Maybe she’d order something embarrassing or he’d trip on the way out and run straight back into Suguru’s open arms.
As soon as the fantasy popped into his head he felt vile. Hoping for Satoru’s humiliation? Not exactly noble. He wanted Satoru to be happy. Even if it wasn’t with him.
At least he wanted to feel that way.
He collapsed onto his bed and let the dread settle over him. If only he’d known sooner then he could’ve said something, right? Would Satoru even want him? Didn’t Satoru like girls?
Maybe it was hopeless either way.
He grabbed his phone and called the only person who might understand, Shoko. She picked up on the third ring.
“I think I’m dying. Is it normal to feel like your heart is trying to push out through your ribs?” he blurted instead of an introduction.
Shoko chuckled, warmth bleeding over the line. “What happened, Suguru? You sound out of it.”
“I think I’m in love with Satoru.”
Silence passed between them. “Well duh, dude. Did you not know?”
“What do you mean, ‘duh’?”
“I mean, it’s kind of obvious.” Shoko said, slightly exasperated. “You look at him differently. You treat him better than anyone. You get weirdly defensive when other people flirt with him. It’s not subtle.”
“To everyone?” he asked, panic flooding his chest.
“Maybe not everyone, certainly not Satoru, because he’s an idiot. But yeah, I noticed.”
Suguru's cheeks went hot. He wasn't sure what to even say to that.
“Don't worry about it. Honestly, it’s cute.” Shoko said, saving him from a reply. “So… why are you freaking out?”
“He’s going on a date." Suguru replied, the words just tumbling out before he could stop them. "With his secret admirer. They’re going to fall in love. I missed my chance. My heart is going to explode and you’ll have to give a eulogy at my funeral.”
Shoko laughed until she almost snorted. “I'll make sure to say something nice." She paused. "But, what if the date sucks?”
“What if it’s amazing?” Suguru countered.
Shoko hummed thoughtfully. “Do you know where it is?”
“Yes. Some beautiful place only he can afford,” Suguru said miserably.
“Do you want to crash it?” she asked.
“What?”
“Crash his date. Spy vs. spy. We’ll observe, gather intel. Judge from afar.”
Suguru stared at his ceiling, heart racing.
“Okay,” he said finally. “Let’s do it.”
♥️💗♥️💗♥️💗♥️💗
Forty-five minutes later, Shoko was at Suguru's house and she hadn’t come alone. Yuu and Kento hovered a step behind her like reluctant accomplices.
“I can’t drive yet,” she announced by way of greeting, hooking her thumb toward Kento. “He’s our ride.”
Kento looked like he had been dragged there under duress.
“So… Satoru, huh?” Yuu asked, giving him a knowing look.
Suguru gave the universal shrug of someone who had accepted their fate. Maybe it had been inevitable since the cupcake incident. Maybe fate had been quietly shipping them since fifth grade. Maybe he was melodramatic or all of the above.
“Let’s go ruin love!” Shoko crowed, bouncing on her heels.
“We’re not ruining love,” Suguru mumbled, but he couldn’t help smiling as he followed them to Kento's ancient hatchback.
“I booked a table,” Shoko said, proudly. “I can only afford bread, so if we have to order anything else, we’ll run!”
Suguru's stomach did somersaults. How were they going to pull this off without being noticed?
They should just go to a cheap place, order something tragic, and let him sob into his soda. That sounded safer.
♥️💗♥️💗♥️💗♥️💗
Their master plan dissolved faster than a paper heart in the rain, two things happened at once that unraveled everything.
The first slap to the face was the moment they discovered the place required a membership card. A membership for a restaurant? Suguru and his friends stared at the doorman as if he’d suggested they show their social security numbers and a blood sample.
Reservations meant nothing here.
The second hit came when Satoru arrived just as they were doing the walk of shame back down the steps of the restaurant.
He stepped toward the marble steps like he belonged in a commercial, black tailored slacks that fit to perfection, a crisp black shirt, and a maroon overcoat draped like something made to grab attention. He smelled faintly of cologne and something sweet.
He looked like he was about to walk into a gala. They looked like a group of stuffed animals who’d wandered out of a thrift store.
“What are you guys doing here?” Satoru asked, voice casual but eyes only on Suguru.
“I… we…” Suguru started, words scattering.
“We were just in the area,” Shoko cut in for him.
Satoru scanned the street, the row of high-end shops, the kinds of storefronts none of Suguru's friends would ever set foot in and glanced back at them.
“Right.” He sounded awkward in a way that made Suguru's throat ache. “Well, I better head inside.”
He brushed past them to head up the stairs to the restaurant.
Shoko jabbed Suguru with her foot and hissed, “You’re just going to let him walk away?”
Before his brain could argue, Suguru's feet were already moving.
“Satoru... wait!” he called, voice cracking on the last word.
Satoru paused and turned. Suguru's breath stopped. Up close he was... impossibly gorgeous.
Suguru's hand rose on its own. He smoothed the lapel of Satoru’s coat, fingers trembling like they belonged to someone else. The world narrowed to the soft fabric under his palm and Satoru’s surprised face.
“You look… really nice,” Suguru blurted, then cursed himself for the clumsy compliment. He was standing on the cliff now, either he jumped, or he stepped back forever.
“Don’t go on this date.”
Satoru cocked his head. “What? Why not?”
Suguru swallowed. “Be my Valentine instead,” he said, voice steadier than he felt.
The effect was immediate. Satoru's face brightened, a small smile spreading across his face.
“Really?” he asked, suddenly small and hopeful.
“Really,” Suguru said, surprising himself with how certain he sounded. “I… I like you. Maybe I always have. I don’t want you to date anyone else.”
There it was, the truth. The confession. Clumsy and real. Satoru's grin spread slow and wide, like he’d been waiting for those exact words his whole life.
Satoru reached for Suguru's hand. “Okay,” he breathed. “I’ll be your Valentine.”
For a second, everything felt like warm. Then the doorman cleared his throat as if to remind them the world still had rules and they were blocking the door.
“Well… are you guys hungry?” Satoru asked, grinning. “I do have a reservation. And I know a guy who can get us in.” He winked outrageously at the stupid joke.
The doorman tried to be stern. He opened his mouth, ready for the rehearsed line about memberships and etiquette, but the second his eyes flicked to the little card Satoru held up, his entire demeanor changed.
The Gojo name on a glossy card was enough to stop the man's words in his throat. How rich was Satoru anyway, Suguru wondered for the hundredth time.
Shoko flipped her hair at the doorman like a movie star and sailed past, Kento and Yuu trailing behind her like two loyal retainers. They moved through the doorway as if they belonged, which, objectively, they did not.
They were led to a booth beneath a chandelier that threw rose-gold light across the table. Satoru sat on one side and Suguru slid in next to him. Shoko squeezed into the small space on his other side while Kento and Yuu claimed the opposite bench.
Satoru ordered for the table with the calm of someone who did this sort of thing regularly, all confidence and bravado that came as naturally to him as breathing.
For a long second the waiter hovered over their table as though they had something to say about dress code or party composition. Satoru raised an eyebrow at him that spoke volumes and the man scurried off.
Suguru let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He still couldn’t believe he was here, at a place his friends had only ever seen in magazines, sitting beside the person who’d just said yes to being his Valentine.
“Oh gosh... I should probably cancel my date,” Satoru said with a soft chuckle, fishing his phone from his pocket.
“Can I?” Suguru asked before he could think better, holding out his hand.
“Sure.” Satoru handed it over as easily as he’d hand over a french fry.
Suguru's thumb hovered over the screen for a second, a flicker of possessive jealousy hot and ridiculous in his chest as he saw their text thread. Then he reminded himself, he was here with Satoru and they weren’t.
He typed fast, grinning despite the tremor in his fingers. Sorry gotta cancel, met the love of my life. Then, before he overthought it, he leaned in and planted a quick, sideways kiss on Satoru’s cheek while snapping a photo at the same time.
He hit send.
Satoru blinked, stunned, the way someone looks when the world hands them exactly what they secretly wanted but thought they’d never have. A slow, soft smile spread across his face, and for a minute the whole table seemed to bask in that small, ridiculous, perfect moment.
♥️💗♥️💗♥️💗♥️💗
Suguru went home with Satoru. He hadn't planned to exactly but Satoru hadn’t let go of his hand since dessert. The car ride was the opposite of last night’s. Instead of a glowing screen between them, Satoru’s full attention sat like a comforting weight against his side. Their fingers were braided together and Satoru's head tilted towards Suguru's shoulder.
“I’m so glad you told me,” Satoru said after a while, voice small and surprised. “I think I’ve liked you since the day we met.”
Suguru laughed, soft and disbelieving. “Really? Is that why you stole my cupcake?” he teased.
Satoru chuckled, eyes sliding shut for a moment. “Probably. I was looking for any excuse to talk to you. Backfired spectacularly.”
Suguru squeezed his hand. “I wouldn’t say it backfired.”
“Yeah.”
They rode the rest of the way in a comfortable silence. No phones, no distracted glances, just the soft hum of the engine and the steady, ridiculous feeling of having finally, gloriously landed where they belonged.
♥️💗♥️💗♥️💗♥️💗
By Monday the whole school knew that they were dating. The secret admirer, crushed and petty, had plastered the restaurant photo, Suguru’s sideways kiss to Satoru’s cheek, all over social media.
What a sore loser.
Suguru should have been embarrassed, but he wasn’t. He had Satoru's hand in his as they walked down the hall, fingers laced like some small, indisputable truth. Nothing about their rhythm had really changed. They still met before school, sat together at lunch, and met up after classes. The difference was small and enormous all at once.
Satoru always held his hand now.
By the end of Tuesday, with the sun slanting across the parking lot and Satoru laughing at something stupid he’d done, Suguru realized he could just do it. He could just kiss him, because they were official.
They were leaning against the wall waiting for Satoru’s ride to pull up, backpacks sitting at their feet. Satoru tipped his head onto Suguru’s shoulder like he had done hundreds of times before only this time Suguru knew what the small electric shiver that ran down his spine meant. Satoru's thumb traced idle circles over Suguru's knuckles.
He could kiss him. Not in theory or a daydream. Not a chaste kiss on the cheek or temple. He could actually kiss his boyfriend, right here, in the ridiculous splendor of a public school parking lot.
“Hey,”
Satoru glanced up, soft and expectant. “Hey.”
“I’m going to do something brave,” Suguru announced, and immediately wanted to backpedal.
“Okay,” Satoru said smiling. “Be brave.”
Suguru's heart tried to leap out of his chest. He slid his free hand up the lapel of Satoru’s jacket. The world narrowed to just him, the sun glinting off his hair, the small scar above his lip that just enhanced his beauty, the familiar scent of his shampoo.
“Is this… okay?” Suguru whispered, leaning in.
Satoru nodded, close enough that the motion brushed their foreheads. “Always.”
Suguru kissed him.
It was easy. Stupidly easy, he couldn’t believe they’d never tried it before. Satoru smiled against his mouth, an unhelpful, dazzling complication. Suguru laughed into the kiss which made Satoru laugh and they both missed their mark a little. The second try was even better.
Somewhere, someone wolf-whistled. Somewhere else, a bus pulled out of the parking lot. None of it mattered.
They broke apart and Satoru's forehead rested against his, eyes still closed, smile soft and stunned.
“So,” Satoru murmured, “that was pretty brave.”
Suguru chuckled soft, happiness bubbling in his chest.
“Can we do that again? For science.”
Suguru hummed his agreement, "Yes, need more data." and kissed him again, slower this time.
When they pulled apart, Satoru laced their fingers tighter and started tugging him toward the sidewalk.
“Come over?” he asked, looking over his shoulder.
Suguru grinned, and nodded, letting himself be pulled toward the waiting car.
Anywhere Satoru wanted to go, he would follow.