Chapter Text
Dinner wasn't the only thing Suguru ate that night.
You hadn't slept together since.
Four days felt like longer when you barely saw him living in the same apartment. He'd gotten home late again, apologizing before disappearing in his office.
All you could do was knock.
He didn't reply.
Still, you peeked through the crack. Sitting at his desk, reading glasses perched on the edge of his nose, lost in whatever he was looking at on his laptop. A deep crease between his brows as he clicked a few times, sighing to himself.
"Suguru?" You murmured.
He glanced up, closing it in a swift movement. Still, his features hardly relaxed, barely offering you more than half a smile.
"Sorry, did you say something?" He apologized, as honeyed as ever, shuffling through a few of the scattered documents strewn next to him, sorting them into a neat stack.
"Just wanted to check on you," You stepped in, leaning against the wall, struggling not to feel awkward.
"I'm fine," He shrugged, looking over at the clock on the wall then back to the papers in front of him. "If you give me an hour, I'll start cooking dinner."
You shook your head.
"You don't have to rush, I just had a snack anyway," You informed him, talking quietly. As much as you wanted to tell him you missed him, just wanted to see him, you didn't want to make him feel guilty or obligated to spend time with you when he was clearly busy.
"Okay," He nodded, still distracted.
It felt like a dismissal. Even if he didn't intend it as one.
"Is, um, everything alright?" You hesitantly approached, stopping by the edge of his desk. It wasn't like you really even expected him to tell you. But you hoped he'd at least know that you cared.
"Just have a lot on my plate right now," He murmured, flicking to a different paper.
You wish you knew what weighed the most on him. After Friday, you couldn't help but think you were the item at the top of the list of stressors.
"Can I help?" You bit your lip, taking the smallest of steps closer to his chair. He hadn't noticed, too absorbed in what he was reading.
"Hm?"
You kneeled down next to him, palms sliding up his muscled thighs to reach for his zipper.
"What are you doing?" You couldn't tell if it was amusement or not in his tone.
"What?" You feigned innocence, peering up at him with wide eyes as you slowly tugged his zipper down.
"Not right now," He pushed his chair back, just barely, giving your left hand a small squeeze as he brushed it off.
Bottling up your hurt, swallowing the jagged shards of it stuck in your throat as you grabbed the side of the desk to pull yourself up. He glanced over your stomach, starting to reach over to help you the rest of the way, but you brushed him off the same.
"Oh, okay," You mumbled, heat rising to your cheeks. Even if he was legally your husband, he didn't owe you sex. He didn't owe you love.
Wasn't that right?
“Maybe later.” He said that two nights ago.
“Sure,” You felt like a fool for nodding.
He had only proposed marriage as a transaction. You were giving him a baby, and he was covering the costs. Rejection was still rejection, though, and it stung like a bitch.
The fear that had been creeping around corners for weeks had finally shown its face. Sneering that he really didn't want you anymore.
"I'll be out soon," He went to pat your hand, but it didn't feel as soothing as it had before.
"Don't worry about it," You pulled away, turning your head back towards the door before he could catch your expression. "I'll be fine on my own."
You had been all weekend.
"Are you upset?" He said it almost offhandedly, like he was a parent asking a child if they were mad at them over something petty like candy or toys.
"No," You shrugged. "I just don't want to bother you.”
“It’s not that. But between work and you and the ba-” He had opened the laptop again though, clicking something while he talked and just further confirmed your fears. You were part of the problem.
“I get it,” You were turning around and shutting the door behind you before he said anything else.
You knew he cared about you.
If he didn't, he wouldn't worry or stress.
But he sort of had to. You were having his baby.
It was you who developed deeper feelings for him that you needed to keep in check.
Padding softly back to the bedroom, quietly tugging open drawers to ruffle through a few days worth of necessities. Filling up an old tote bag hanging in your half of the closet as you racked through your brain not to forget anything. You shoved your work laptop in with the rest of your stuff, relieved you had left it in the bedroom instead of the office for once. The ache of being unwanted pushing you forward, throwing another shirt in and snagging your phone charger still plugged into the outlet.
You weren't sure yet where you even wanted to go. Even though the lease was about to be up and there wasn't much furniture left, you technically did still have your old apartment, even if it was a long drive. Nobara or Yuji would probably let you stay with them if you didn't want to make it. Either way, you couldn't stay. Not if your presence would just push him further away.
Feeling like a burglar in what had been your home, you cleaned the bathroom counter top off of all your toiletries, throwing in your hairbrush and face wash, resigning yourself to just stopping by whatever store was closest for shampoo and conditioner. You knew deep down Suguru probably wasn't going to step out of his office for at least another hour, but you were still in a rush to leave.
Rummaging through the contents of your bag, you sighed, exiting to the living room to snag your phone and purse from the kitchen counter, pausing by a stack of sticky notes left by the unopened spam mail. You had to dig through your purse for a pen, clicking it open with a frown.
You didn't bother addressing it to him, scribbling a few lines that you didn't want to stress him out more and you'd just go back to your own place for a few days. You paused, then added 'please get some rest!' at the bottom, as if he'd actually listen. Pulling it off the pad, you walked back over to the fridge and stuck it front and center where he couldn't miss it. Maybe your head would be clearer by the time you returned, your heart not so heavy.
You'd come back to drop off his gifts on his birthday in a few days, see how you felt then.
Recollecting your stuff, you grabbed your keys and slipped your shoes on, the door creaking open as you creeped out into the hall. You pulled out your keys to lock it behind you, the bitter portion of you wondering if he'd even miss you when you were gone.
The last few months were great. For you, at least. But you had him to lean on, to comfort you when you were stressed or sad or scared. He had never leaned on you. He didn't want to.
You couldn't make him.
If he wanted space, you could give it to him.
The walk out to your car was cold. You forgot your coat, the sun already dipping below the horizon, the sky a dark blue. Driving all the way to the apartment your name was actually on in the dark sounded extraordinarily shitty. Shivering, you hurried to turn the ignition on and turn up the warm air before pulling out your phone and opening up your contacts.
Nobara answered before the phone had even rang twice.
"Hello?"
"Could I stay with you for a few days?" You mumbled into the speaker, adjusting the vents so the warm air was blowing directly on you.
"Duh. What'd he do?" She was already getting irritated on your behalf. You couldn't exactly say “He didn't want me to give him a blow job.”
"I'll, uh, just tell you about it when I get there," You sighed. That would give you at least ten minutes to figure out a way to explain it without including that sordid little detail. "I'm fine, I just think we could use a couple days not being around each other."
"Okay," She drawled dramatically, suspicious still. "I'll withhold my judgment for now."
"Thanks. I'll be there soon," You hung up, dropping the phone in your cup holder as you buckled up.
You had already spent most of your life without him. A few days without Suguru couldn't be that hard.
Come home.
You stared at the message.
"Want me to make you a bowl?" Yuji shouted from the kitchen, holding up the still-steaming bag of microwave popcorn. You nodded, mumbling a sure while you readjusted the pillow under your back for the hundredth time. This couch hadn't been kind to it even when you weren't pregnant.
Nobara was giving you a look from the other end of the couch, some sort of sixth sense kicking in like she already knew what was on your screen.
"What'd he say?" She frowned.
You flipped the phone around to show her.
"That's it?" She rolled her eyes, kicking her feet up on the already scratched coffee table. You hadn't heard from him since you left yesterday. "Don't reply."
"You think I shouldn't?"
"He should be begging for you to come back," She huffed, right as Yuji came back in the living room, balancing three bowls in his arms.
"Anything you guys want to watch?" He excitedly asked, passing them out before plopping in between the two of you.
“I'll pick,” Nobara had snagged the remote while he was in the kitchen, tucking it between her side and the armrest so he couldn't steal it back.
Your phone buzzed again, the sound almost lost under them arguing.
Are you and the baby okay?
Nobara caught you looking, reaching over Yuji to snatch your phone, rolling her eyes when she saw the new message.
“I’m confiscating this,” She huffed, turning a little like it'd shield her typing something back from view. “You're supposed to be relaxing.”
Easy for her to say when you were currently second-guessing every moment you shared with him over the past few months.
“Isn't worrying like bad for the baby or something?” Yuji chimed in, gently poking your stomach while you swatted his hand away.
“If it doesn't work out with him, we can always help you raise the baby,” Nobara sounded way too confident, tucking your phone back in her pocket and offering you a big thumbs-up, although you knew if Yuji had been the one to say it, she probably would've hit him for being so uncouth.
“Yeah, if he looks like Geto, we could probably even pass him off as Megumi's,” Yuji suggested, overexcited at his own idea. You laughed out loud picturing your dark-haired friend's reaction when he found out what Yuji had just volunteered him for.
“Okay, maybe not that,” Nobara sighed, picking at her manicure as she flipped through the movies on the screen. “But-”
“You know, we hardly ever use the office, I bet if we moved my desk back in my room, we could fit a crib in there,” Yuji kept yapping, head tilted thoughtfully while he made plans you sincerely hoped you wouldn't end up needing.
“Thanks, guys,” You still smiled, plucking out the burnt pieces of popcorn and tossing them onto the coffee table. "But I still want my phone back."
Nobara groaned as she handed it over, muttering under her breath that you should scare him more, only for you to end up the one startled when Choso strolled in through the front door, carrying grocery bags he nearly dropped when he saw you on his couch. Frozen at the entryway while you offered a small wave, a forced smile.
Maybe you could just pretend it wasn't painful.
But then Yuji invited him to come watch, getting up and taking the bags from his brother's hands and hurrying to put them up, insisting there was enough room since Megumi couldn't make it.
So you were stuck in the same room as your ex when you weren't even speaking to your baby daddy, staring at the tv while you sorted out your complicated feelings, most of them centering around the man that knocked you up.
Eventually you had to push up off the cushions to go pee, your back aching as you stood up and started towards their bathroom, thinking about all the old times you'd used it before, how fucking different everything had been, how far from your old life you were now.
You didn't know why you were surprised when you opened the door afterwards and found a slice of the person you were before waiting for you.
"Um, how are you?" Choso awkwardly cleared his throat, doing his best not to look at your stomach and failing miserably, his eyes flitting down at the swell underneath your loose t-shirt every few seconds.
"Tired," You yawned, offering a small smile. "How have you been?"
You hadn't seen him since the one awkward encounter where he found out you were pregnant in the first place. Yuji gave little updates here and there, offhand remarks about how his brother was doing, and what was new. It wasn't quite as weird as you anticipated when he was actually right here, no lingering discomfort or wistful what-ifs hanging over you.
"Good, just, uh, busy," He replied, fiddling with the ends of his hair.
“Yeah?” You searched his face, his nervousness as endearing as always.
“Yuji says the baby is, uh, a boy,” Choso was doing his best attempt at a normal conversation, foot tapping the floor anxiously.
“Yeah, he is,” You nodded, glancing back towards the living room. “You wanna go finish that movie?”
“Oh, um, are you sure?” His brows furrowed, like he thought you were just being polite.
“Yeah, I'm sure,” You laughed, relaxing more as you remembered that despite the drama, despite how messy your life got, these were the people that would be here for you regardless.
The baby kicked hard, a flicker of surprise crossing your face when you glanced down automatically. Choso's attention followed yours.
Maybe he wasn't yours anymore. Would never fit into your world the same way he had before.
But being friends wouldn't be so bad.
You kinda needed as many as you could get right now.
"You wanna feel?"
"C-can I?" He stammered, face flushing and completely caught off-guard. His cheeks only got pinker when you nodded to confirm it, fingers trembling out to slowly press against your stomach as your son kicked again.
The moment was sweet, some closure you hadn't realized you wanted or needed setting in before your phone vibrated in your palm. Suguru's call went to voicemail. But his messages popped up next anyway.
Please.
Come back to me.
It took you almost a week to work up the courage.
Not completely giving him the cold shoulder, just clipped replies that the baby was fine. Insisting it was probably for the best if you stayed somewhere else for a while.
Let him sort his own shit out while you reminded yourself you didn't need him to do any of this.
Of course, your luck had never been anything other than rotten so the gray clouds loitering in the sky just had to start pouring once you got out of your car, soaking your clothes to your skin as you reluctantly used your jacket to cover up the birthday gifts you'd bought back when things were supposed to be pretty and peachy.
You didn't think things could get worse. That you could feel worse.
And still, you were outdone once you walked inside.
Three strangers were in your living room. His living room.
You blinked, your throat far dryer than the rest of you as they blankly stared back.
"Is Geto expecting you?" The one girl of the trio asked, arching a plucked eyebrow up and glancing over at her companions on the couch. They had their laptops out, a few papers on the table. Coworkers, maybe?
Either way, none of them seemed to know who you were either.
He rounded the corner then, the easy, relaxed look on his face immediately switching to concern the moment he saw you looking like a drowned rat by the doorway.
You never expected him to miss you. But it still hurt that he hadn't.
Your name coming out of his mouth, but you cut him off before he could finish.
"I'm, uh, just here to drop this stuff off and change clothes," You mumbled to him.
"We're done for the day. Go home," Suguru barely looked at his guests, dismissing them as you started to slip past him in the hall. You could hear them whispering to each other about items still needing to be reviewed, business left unfinished. He was ignoring them, following you instead.
"They don't have to go," You commented, keeping your voice neutral as your fingers wrapped around the cool metal of the doorknob to the bedroom. "Just give me two minutes and I'll leave.”
“You're going to get sick, at least take a warm shower first,” He was firm, his capacity to care only hurting you more.
“Fine,” You yielded.
No need for him to like you any less anyway, picking a fight with him while his guests were in the other room.
All the feelings you tried so hard to shut down the past week just shoved back in your face the second you saw him. How much you wanted to fall apart at his feet, to cling onto the affection he devoted to his baby and just keep lying to yourself that it was all for you too.
But you tugged your arm back, turning your head back down as you opened the door to his bedroom. His nightstand was empty, save for his reading glasses perched on the edge. You carefully stacked his presents next to them, wondering if there was even any point in putting in all that effort for him. Ignoring the ache in your chest while you pulled out a thick sweatshirt and leggings from your closet, grabbing the first pair of clean underwear you saw from your dresser so you wouldn't have to walk back out in a towel after your shower in case his guests, coworkers, whatever they were, were still hanging around.
He was saying your name again when you turned back in the hallway, but you ignored it, shutting the bathroom door behind you and flipping the lock.
Shutting off your thoughts as you stripped out of your soaked clothes, discarding them in a sopping wet pile on the floor. Leaning over to fiddle with the shower handle, letting it warm up first before you stepped over the side of the tub. It was your first taste of comfort all day, the heat slowly returning to your body as you twisted around to soak your hair. You hadn't realized you were shivering until you saw how badly your fingers were shaking when you went to grab the shampoo bottle.
It somehow slipped through your grasp, hitting the tub with a loud thud, ending up by the drain.
You had just started to bend over to pick it up, preoccupied by how what used to be an easy movement made your body ache so much now, when Suguru knocked hard on the bathroom door.
“Are you okay?” You'd never heard him sound panicked before.
“I'm fine,” You called back out, finally reaching the slippery bottle and successfully grabbing it this time. Popping open the lid and about to squeeze some on your hand when the door fast enough it hit the wall behind it, your heart jumping when you peeked out from behind the curtain.
Didn't you just lock it?
“What the fuck?” You stared hard at him.
He exhaled when he saw you were, indeed, completely fine. But you could make out the traces of worry in his eyes, his chest rising and falling too fast.
“Did you fall?” He hadn't moved, the door wide open behind him.
“No, I just dropped the shampoo bottle,” You muttered, closing the curtain so you could go back to finishing what you started. “Can you get out now? Don't you have stuff to do?”
He was quiet.
You pretended he wasn't there, did your best to act like you were showering anywhere else, returning the bottle to its place before massaging the shampoo in.
“They went home,” He said, like that would change anything.
You didn't reply.
“Can we talk?” He eventually asked.
“About what?” You curtly answered, fingers working to detangle the knots from your hair as you washed the last of it out, suds circling the drain.
The shower curtain was tugged back, and you blinked back surprise when you realized he stripped down too, forcing yourself to look up, down, anywhere else when he got in too.
“You left,” He was speaking so softly, but his eyes gave away how little control he had right now, the pupils too big, his eyes narrowing to thin slits focusing in on you. You turned around so you didn't have to face him, but it didn't make you feel any less like a mouse caught under his paw.
“So?” You mumbled, steam wafting up in the air.
One of his hands grazed against your hips and you flinched.
“I’m fine. The baby's fine,” You said under your breath.
Why did he care anyway? His son was okay, so what was left for him to worry about?
“What about me?” He murmured in your ear, and even without touching you, you could feel the weight of him ghosting across your skin, smothered in his presence. Threatening to suffocate you if you let it.
“I think I should just get out,” You swallowed hard, strengthening your resolve as you reached for the shower curtain. He might indulge you, maybe even fuck you so you'd feel better for now, but what came later? Who was to say you wouldn't just end up where you were a few days ago?
You'd rather spare yourself the heartbreak.
He grabbed your wrist, gently tugging you back.
“Baby.”
It sounded like a purr coming out of his mouth, all tender and low. How easily it made you melt inside, the turmoil written all over your face for him to assess.
“Come here,” He added, not letting go, but not pulling you into him either.
“Why?” You looked down at the tub, wishing you weren't having this conversation naked.
“I missed you,” He did pull you closer now, the water hitting your back as he tilted your chin up to face him. You wanted to believe him more than anything else. When you didn't say it back, hesitating while you chewed your cheek, his thumb drifted up to your bottom lip, tracing its outline. “Did you not miss me?”
“Did I say that?” You turned your head, but he dragged your attention back to him, the pad of his thumb pulling your lip down enough to slip between the edges of your teeth, daring you to bite him.
“It’s fine if you’re mad at me,” He hummed softly, serious despite the corner of his lips curving up. “Just be mad at me here.”
You couldn't exactly argue with his thumb in your mouth. Letting your teeth sink into his knuckle, his other hand finally pulled you into him.
“Did I not give my girl enough attention?” He released your arm to brush your hair back from your face, tucking the wet strands behind your ear.
You bit down harder, but he just chuckled.
“Is that a yes?” He taunted, tugging his thumb free, letting his hand trace down your body until he was cupping your heat, rubbing tender half-circles against your clit.
“What are you doing?” You managed a whisper, but he just increased the pressure, your knees pressing together on instinct.
“Showing you how much I missed you,” He murmured. You weakly shook your head, your scoff escaping before you could stop it. He could say it, but you saw his expression before he realized you were there. It wasn't exactly one of someone who'd spent the past few days hurting over your absence. He dipped a finger inside, but even the water rolling over your body didn't offer a shield to hide how wet you were just from his proximity. Suguru made a small noise, annoyingly pleased. “How much I need you.”
More sweet nothings.
Need? What were you to him, really, other than an incubator? A warm body next to him?
“Yeah?” Your sarcasm didn't go unnoticed.
“I'm hurt,” He was pouting now, adding another finger. “You don't believe me?”
“You, ah, seem pretty okay to me,” You commented, spine going stiff when he slowly pushed in deeper. His broad chest pressing against you, and you couldn't help but feel insecure when he grazed against your stomach, blanching at the touch.
“I’m not.”
You didn't want an empty promise.
Suguru always knew the right thing to say, what you needed to feel better. Discerning the damage control from the truth didn't come so naturally to you.
But it was hard to find an argument when he was knuckle-deep inside you, drawing out weak moans, making you lean against him for support.
He kissed you, and you could almost buy it. If you shut your eyes, dropped all the shields you put back up, you might believe him. A hot lump formed in your throat, and it was only then that you realized you had started crying, sniffling as you tried to press a hand to his chest.
“You trust me, baby?” He hm-ed, breaking away from the kiss to brush away what was probably makeup-streaked tears from your cheeks as his other set of fingers slipped back out of you.
“Yeah,” You quietly replied. Even if you wished you didn't. One of those truths you hated yourself for.
He picked you up easily, his hands cupping your ass as he flipped you around until your back was pressed against the cold wall of the shower, a sharp gasp falling from your lips. Your body instinctively pressing itself against him, tits squished up, his half-lidded as they flitted down. Tugging his bottom lip between his teeth, his cock hard as it dug into your leg.
“You're gonna drop me,” You managed a small pout, already knowing your resistance was futile.
“I would never,” His voice tilted up at the end, teasing you.
Your fingers settled in his hair, easily getting tangled in the wet strands, wrists crossed behind his neck. You couldn't really make out what he was thinking, sort out what was going on inside his head.
“You scared me,” He muttered.
“I didn't mean to drop the sham-” You gasped when he suddenly kissed your neck, making a hot, hungry path down the side of your throat until he reached your chest. If he wasn't holding you up, you were pretty sure he wouldn't have stopped until he made it to your clit.
“That's not what I meant,” He chuckled, having to readjust you so he could slowly inch past your entrance, eyes shutting as he forced a short inhale out of his nose. You expected him to hold himself back the same way he always did, but he bullied his way in until he was pressed against your womb, everything clenching around him.
“Oh fuck,” You yelped, thighs squeezing against his sides.
“I’ve got you,” He whispered in your ear, sliding in soft and slow, his hands on your hips to hold you up. Knees automatically started to press together just for him to nudge them further apart, a needy whimper rolling off your tongue.
“Mm, Suguru,” You gasped, too full to think when he snugly held you there, his fingers digging into your skin to keep you in place.
Fucking into you at a steady pace, his hips rolling up, his feet firmly planted, refusing to let either of you slip.
"Don't leave me," he murmured, kiss after kiss pressing against your throat as he started repeating it over and over again into your skin. Teeth skimming dangerously across your tendons, sharp canines making you shudder while your walls greedily sucked him in, reassuring him when the rest of you wouldn't. You supposed it sorta made sense.
This had started with sex.
Your relationship had revolved around it in some shape or another.
You took what you could.
Let him rut into you, telling yourself his desire was desperation, that you had actually accomplished something when he tried to devote extra time to making you cum. Thumb dragging over your clit in tantalizing circles while you let whatever thin thread that held you together snap with your climax.
"Missed you so much," he murmured, saying it like a promise, kissing you while he came inside you, his cock throbbing and your thighs trembling and your heart aching.
You didn't reply.
Moaned instead of offering him something of substance, shutting your eyes until he pulled out. He kissed the corner of your mouth. The tip of your nose. Your forehead. Started washing you up properly after the cum started leaking down your thighs.
Devoting himself to each inch of you. Trying to prove something you didn't want to let yourself get tricked by.
Sure, some piece of him felt bad right now.
But you'd seen how relaxed he looked before he saw you.
What if all you did was make life harder for each other?
"Are we okay?" He asked, his own hair hanging wet and loose as the shower pelted his shoulders.
"Yeah," You paused to recollect yourself, the hole in your chest still empty and aching, his attempt at patching it up failing without him even noticing. "I'll be out in a few minutes."
"I'll start on dinner," He softly said, pressing a gentle kiss against your hair. In the corner of your vision, his fingers wrapped around the edge of the shower curtain, pulling it back enough that he could step out. Stuck watching his shadow pull down a towel from the rack to dry himself off, tying his damp hair off his neck.
You didn't have it in you to offer to dry it for him, spend half an hour brushing it out.
“Thank you,” His voice was hardly audible over the exhaust and running water.
“For what?”
“Coming home.”
You didn't think he should thank you yet.
It was harder being with him than without him. What you couldn't have just dangling in front of your face, constantly reminding you of what you'd rather forget.
The bathroom door shut, but it didn't click in the hinges, probably broken from where Suguru burst in earlier. You snuck another peek out of the curtain once you thought he was really gone just to confirm.
Shutting the shower off with a sigh, grabbing the towel through the curtain and wrapping yourself up before you stepped out. You picked your clothing up off the floor, hoping the loose fabric would help conceal the tremble still lingering in your limbs, fingers shaking as you slid your underwear up your still damp legs, the band catching as you dragged it up your skin.
By the time you were pulling the clean sweatshirt over your head, the baby had stirred, fluttery kicks brushing against the surface. A week ago, you would've rushed to show him. Now, you just felt the faint movements under your fingertips, tracing over the spot.
As much as you already loved his baby, it would be stupid to let yourself fall in love with Suguru.
After the baby was, y'know, actually here, you could manage the first year with him at least. But eventually, he would meet someone he wasn't obligated to take care of, and if he fell for them, you'd be okay with that. Let him divorce you and play co-parents.
It was a possibility you accepted when you choose to keep the baby.
You weren't really that scared to be a single mom, or even divorced. You were scared that you'd always miss him and he'd never miss you.
Music was drifting down the hall when you walked out, something playing in the kitchen. Your towel was wrapped around your wet clothes, shielding you from getting soaked again as you padded over to the laundry room, pulling open the door and propping open the lid to toss everything in. Suguru was saying something, maybe to you, or maybe on his phone, but you were choosing not to listen, walking back to the bedroom to check the laundry basket.
His gifts were no longer on the nightstand, his glasses now moved on top of his pillow. You supposed he could do whatever he wanted with them now, they were his to keep or toss. You balled up the few shirts and jeans at the bottom of the basket left by the open closet, wincing at the pain in your side from leaning over, taking your time walking back to start the load of laundry.
Suguru was saying your name.
It would've been easy to respond, but you couldn't force yourself to. Pretending not to hear him, adding the detergent and flipping through the settings before pressing start.
"You alright?" Suguru was leaning against the door frame, dark eyes settling over to where you were still half-draped over the hood of the machine.
"Hm?" You only let yourself look at him for a few seconds, turning your attention past him as you slipped by, careful not to brush against him. "What are you making?"
"I wanted to see what you were in the mood for," His hand landed on your back, palm flat against your spine, but it was hard not to stiffen, not to pull away from his touch even now.
"Whatever you want is fine," You shrugged apathetically, a far cry from the dumpster fire of emotions currently burning you alive inside.
He didn't say anything for a moment, but his hand didn't move.
"Okay," He was yielding, you knew that, accepting your answer even if he didn't believe it.
The presents were now stacked on the coffee table, the cushions still sunk in on the couch from this afternoon's company. It felt like you weren't really supposed to be here, like the previous occupants were about to knock on the door any second, reclaim their spots and kick you back out in the rain.
"Were those for me?" Suguru spoke up behind you, his voice too close, too deep.
"Your birthday's tomorrow," You stated, like he didn't already know.
"Did Nanako tell you?"
You grabbed a blanket off the back of the couch, tugging it up to your chest while you curled up in the farthest corner of the couch, pressing yourself into the armrest. He tossed over the tv remote, watching it land with a soft thud next to you.
“Maybe,” You shrugged again.
“You didn't have to-”
“I wanted to.” You turned the tv on, hoping it'd effectively end the conversation. Maybe he was the one lying to himself now, letting it go as he went back into the kitchen.
Pretending everything was the same as before, answering his questions about the past few days when he returned with your favorite dinner half an hour later, returning to your little corner of the couch afterwards. He pulled your legs into his lap, rubbing along your shins while you curled up on your side.
“If you're tired, we can go to bed,” He offered, the sky already dark outside the window while traced lines up-and-down through the thin fleece, pausing when his fingers grazed against your knee.
“I’m fine,” You lied.
You were tired, but you were nervous to share the bed, not sure if your heart could handle it. Even if you might regret it in the morning, you'd rather sleep on his couch.
But your eyes must've fluttered shut at some point, drifting off without realizing it, waking up just to find yourself snuggled against him in bed. The blankets all tangled between your legs as he cradled you closer, a firm arm wrapped around your back. His chest rising and falling with steady breaths, his fingers splayed across your waist underneath your sweatshirt.
You tried to roll over, slip away while he was asleep, but he didn't budge. You probably would've had better luck with a statue.
Everything about him just enticed you to stay.