Chapter Text
"You've got to stop with that."
"Hm," Suguru glances at Shoko from the corner of his eye, exhaling smoke the other way.
"Your whole," Shoko waves the hand her cigarette was perched in haphazardly. "Satoru, thing."
Suguru scowls and distantly regrets not blowing the smoker right in her face; she pitched her voice down with an added layer of breathiness in a half-assed attempt to mock his voice, just to be annoying.
"I don't sound like that. And I don't have a Satoru thing."
Not as far as he's concerned.
"You're doing it again." Shoko points her cigarette at him. "And he's not even here to hear it. Stop, it's annoying."
Suguru's scowl deepens as he moves Shoko's cigarette out of his face; he's going to have to have a talk about her not using it as a pointer at this rate. Before he could muster up a further defence, he spots a familiar mop of white hair bobbing over the edge of the school's stairs. He felt a smile tugging at his lips and stood up, stretching muscles that have long grown stiff from how long him and Shoko sat on the stairs waiting for Satoru.
"Yo, Satoru!"
Satoru glances up at the sound of his name, his grouchy expression clearing and an answering grin appearing on his face.
"Suguru," he calls out, bounding up the stairs two at a time now. Suguru braces himself just in time to catch Satoru as the other boy crashes into him, wrapping an arm around his waist to turn them towards the school.
Suguru ignores Shoko's muttered 'save me,' as he pulls away and falls into step with Satoru, the other boy's arm remaining around his shoulders. Shoko joins them on Satoru's other side moments later, digging her elbow into his side.
"So, how were the clan elders?"
Satoru let out a long groan his head tipping back to knock against Suguru's. "So boring, they're always so boring, I don't even know why they bother."
Suguru shoves him off in retaliation. "You really should pay more attention in those meetings, Satoru, you'll be clan head one day."
The boy in question groans again and sticks his tongue out. "I'll start paying more attention once they have something interesting to say."
Never one to stray far, Satoru gravitates back to Suguru's side as he talks, arms brushing together. Shoko leans forward slightly to fix both of them with an unimpressed stare and Suguru was suddenly gripped with dread at the thought of her bringing up their earlier conversation. He's still not sure what Shoko was getting at, but he knew that the last thing he needed was Satoru himself thinking Suguru had a Satoru thing - that boy didn't need further encouragement in any direction. He gave her a pleading look, knowing full well that any attempts at coercion would just fuel her.
Shoko fell back into step with them with an annoyed exhale. "I'm leaving, I can't stand you two sometimes."
She took off down the grounds away from them, throwing an arm up goodbye. The two boys were left standing staring at her retreating back, Satoru squinting behind his glasses. "What's up with her?" he asked.
Suguru tugs on his arm, Satoru letting himself get dragged back to his side easily enough, trudging the familiar path back to their dorms. "I wouldn't worry about it."
"You know something you're not telling me," he accuses, shoving Suguru ahead of him. "Tell me."
Suguru rolls his eyes, continuing down the corridor and not bothering to slow down and let Satoru catch up. Not that he would have to slow down much anyways - he could already hear Satoru's lengthened strides as he hurried to catch up to him. Opening the door to his room, he didn't bother closing it as moments later Satoru barged in, slamming the door shut with more enthusiasm than Suguru would've preferred. He glares at him, only getting a dismissive hand wave back.
Suguru, feeling the very least slighted at being dismissed in his own room, opens his mouth to protest but the words get caught halfway when he catches how tired Satoru looks. Satoru, who for some reason has decided to flop face down onto his bed, glasses thrown haphazardly on the nightstand. Suguru's nightstand that was next to his bed.
Suguru sighed and decided to let it go for the time being. He leans over to ruffle his hair. "Satoru," he calls out teasingly.
There's a muffled noise from the boy who is seemingly doing his damnedest to smother himself with Suguru's pillow. Something that sounds like 'no' and 'nap time', and Suguru snorts. He grabs a book off his nightstand and settles down on the floor, leaning back against his bed. Satoru pats his head absentmindedly before his hand falls slack, curling against Suguru's nape.
Suguru can be normal about this. He can. The touch doesn't bother him.
He tries to focus on the book in his lap but all he can think about is the gentle brush of fingers against the back of his neck. Satoru seems to be completely out of it, barely perceptible even breaths puffing against the pillow. Suguru still hasn't read a single word of his book. He considers waking Satoru up and dismisses the thought almost immediately.
It's not like he's doing anything wrong.
It's not Satoru's fault that Suguru's capacity of keeping it together has apparently ran its course today. A new record, really.
Touch between the two of them isn't anything new, and Suguru would rather sit in detention for the next year than make any attempts at discouraging Satoru. Would probably rather sit there for the next two than admit it. Satoru is the first person that he not only doesn't mind being touchy with, but actively encourages it.
And he's used to it. He really is.
But he's used to Satoru leaning against him, his warmth a steady presence. An arm around his shoulder, his waist. An elbow locked around his. Purposeful and constant touches that Suguru has learned to brace for.
But this gentle barely there touch might just be his undoing.
Satoru is larger than life on most days, confident and exuberant and an absolute menace, and Suguru loves him for it. But he's also gentle and kind when he wants to be, and Suguru knows that that's a side of his best friend only he gets to witness regularly. This reminder is doing weird things to his heart.
A rustle of sheets behind him alerts Suguru that he might have spent more time thinking about his best friend than intended and he tilts his head backwards to catch a glance of Satoru grumpily waking up, nose scrunched up.
Just like a cat, he thinks fondly.
However, Suguru has had enough of Satoru getting away with haunting his thoughts, so he reaches for the hand that's been driving him mad for the past hour and uses Satoru's grogginess to tug him across and over him, making the other boy sprawl out on the ground in front of him with a solid thud.
Satoru squints up at him annoyed, and Suguru, pacified for the moment, goes back to the book he's been trying to read for the past hour. He makes it through five pages before Satoru is wiggling closer to him, settling his head in the dip of Suguru's crossed legs, forcing Suguru to lift his book up.
Suguru looks down at him, unimpressed.
Satoru blinks up at him innocently.
"Do you mind?" he asks dryly.
Satoru lets the grin that was tugging at his corners widen, wriggling in a clear attempt to make himself comfortable. He grabs the hand that isn't holding the book, laying Suguru's palm over his eyes, and waves his own in the air in the same dismissive gesture he had earlier. "Not at all."
Suguru doesn't shove him off immediately, and blames the orange sunset filtering through his window for making everything seem a little warmer, a little softer. He sighs and readjusts slightly, resting the book on his knee, keeping his hand gently over Satoru's eyes. Unconsciously, he starts reading out loud, his voice barely louder than the wind outside. Satoru shifts, and Suguru pauses, realising what he's doing.
Satoru settles back down and taps his wrist, loosely locking his fingers around it. "Keep going," he says, voice barely louder than Suguru's was.
Suguru stares at him for a bit, before exhaling. "Alright, Satoru."
There's a gentle smile on his face when Suguru looks down at him, and Suguru can't help mirroring it.
Just for me, Suguru can't help thinking, before continuing where he left off, voice just loud enough for Satoru to hear.
///
Suguru makes it to class just in time, which is to say, he gets there after Shoko, but comfortably before Satoru. He throws himself down into his seat, boneless in his morning grogginess, and he hears Shoko snort next to him.
"Where's your worse half?" There's a cigarette between her lips, but it's unlit, and Suguru notes that he should suggest getting Shoko more lollipops to Satoru later.
Voice still lagging behind his brain in the early morning, Suguru grunts and shrugs. Slides further down his seat. "Asleep probably, how should I know?"
Shoko gives him that look again, and Suguru definitely feels like he's missing something now. "You really don't know, do you?" she sighs out.
Suguru furrows his brow and tries to figure out what the hell that means. He's barely made it out of his own dorm in time, why should he know where Satoru is? Was there an emergency mission? Did he get called away? Did he get injured? Is that why Shoko is asking him about Satoru?
He looks at her, now fully awake with self-inflicted worry. "Did he get hurt? Is he okay?"
Shoko stares at him. And then stares some more. Suguru tries really hard not to fidget under her gaze. She's still staring at him. And she's still not telling him if Satoru's okay.
Before Suguru can worry himself into a full blown panic, and halfway to talking himself out of doing something stupid like shaking Shoko for answers he decides she must posses, the boy in question slams the door open, stumbling into the room. Suguru's eyes immediately snap onto him, scanning for any possible injury, for anything that might be wrong. He's entirely disheveled, yes, shirt sitting crooked across his shoulders, glasses perched precariously, and hair sticking every which way, but uninjured. He looks as put together as he does every morning. Suguru lets himself relax fully when Satoru looks at him with a bright grin.
"Morning, Suguru."
Shoko's looking at him disbelievingly again, and Suguru really wants to know what she's thinking now. Satoru walks past her to his seat, hand hovering over her head for a moment but at a sharp glance from her, he settles on patting her shoulder in greeting. Suguru hooks his ankle around the chair next to him, dragging it closer before Satoru collapses onto it in the same way Suguru did earlier. He splays himself out across the desks, arm laid out across Suguru's, and Suguru takes comfort in the clearly uninjured Satoru by trying to pat his hair into something less resembling a bird's nest.
"You're late," he says, in lieu of a greeting.
Satoru scoffs but makes no attempt at sitting up or moving away from Suguru's hand.
"Wouldn't be late if you let me sleep with you."
Yaga walks in and interrupts whatever retort Suguru could give, and the boys shift out of each other's personal space after a pointed glance from Shoko, Satoru's chair scraping against the floor as he leans back on it. Suguru is tempted to kick at it just to see if he'll lose his balance, but Yaga is already staring at them with an unimpressed look, and Suguru would like to keep up the pretense of being the mature one of their little trio for at least a little while longer. He crosses his arms and pretends the furrow of his brow is from focusing on the lesson and not the beginnings of a pout.
He takes notes dully and carefully but boredom sets in quickly regardless, and barely halfway through the lesson he's ripping a piece of paper from his notebook. 'Why do you keep bringing up Satoru,' he writes down neatly, quietly slipping the note on Shoko's desk.
Shoko glances down at the note, but doesn't bother opening it for several long seconds as she finishes writing down whatever it was she was writing down. Suguru sincerely doubts its got anything to do with the current lesson. He taps his fingers against his desk, eyes on the board. Does not look at Shoko or the note. She grabs the note and lets out what Suguru can only describe as an angry exhale, and he winces at the sharp scratch of her pen as she writes down her response with far more aggression than Suguru thinks his question warrants.
The note gets deposited back on his desk with a slam but he's left with no more clarification as 'You like him and it's annoying,' stares up at him in Shoko's chicken scratch.
Of course he likes Satoru. He's his best friend, his favourite person, why wouldn't he like him?
Shoko leans over to grab the note back, Suguru's face clearly conveying something she doesn't like, and scrawls something down again with just as much force as before. She deposits it back on his desk with the same slam as well. Suguru really doesn't think that his question warrants this much anger at all.
Just beneath her previous sentence, Shoko wrote 'He likes you as well which makes it even more annoying', and if he was confused before, he's truly lost now. She even underlined he and you, as if the emphasis is supposed to clue Suguru in.
Of course Satoru likes him. He's said as much before, calls Suguru his one and only, he's never doubted that Satoru likes him. Mutual appreciation being a fairly important aspect of friendship, he's been told.
Suguru really isn't sure what Shoko is trying to tell him, and by the growing scowl on her face, she seems to realise this.
A bunched up note sails in front of him before landing on Shoko's desk, and Suguru glances at Satoru to see him holding up a hair tie between two fingers, tongue trapped between his teeth. He looks unreasonably proud of his makeshift slingshot, so Suguru stomps on his foot to get the stupid look off his face. Satoru immediately turns to him with a pout, and Suguru refuses to feel bad. He deserved it.
Shoko replies to Satoru's note with as much aggression as she did Suguru's, and he's not surprised at all when she throws the note back at Satoru's head, none too gently. Suguru leaned back in his chair to make sure she had a clear shot, and all. He looks at Satoru out of the corner of his eye, noting that his ears flushed red as he read the note.
Cute, he thinks absentmindedly.
Yaga dismisses them a couple of minutes later, walking out of the class and leaving them to gather their things up. Suguru wastes no time in crowding his best friend's personal space, leaning over him to try and read the note. Whatever it was, it made him blush, which made it Suguru's business.
"Satoru," he drawls out teasingly, "What does the note say?" He rests his head on top of Satoru's and his hand on the desk, trapping him in place. Satoru freezes momentarily, before slamming his hand flat against the note, and now Suguru is really curious. Satoru tries to give Shoko a pleading look, but she's already halfway out the door and shoots him a middle finger over her shoulder.
Suguru for his part is trying to pry Satoru's fingers off the table, without any success. In moments like these he wishes their strength was a little less equal, but Satoru's palm remains steadfast against the desk despite his best efforts. He tries to ease off in an attempt to lure him into a false sense of security, but the moment Satoru senses it, he's grabbing the note and shoving it into his pocket, standing up suddenly and hitting Suguru in the process from where his head was still resting.
"What the fuck, you bastard," Suguru hisses, rubbing his chin in pain.
Satoru hovers around him uncertainly, hands seemingly wanting to touch, but stopping himself before he can. He shoves one hand into a pocket, and runs the other through his hair.
"I... have to go," he says with as much confidence as he can muster, which by Suguru's estimation, is none at all. Satoru nods as if trying to convince himself. "Yeah, I've got something to do, I'll catch you later." He doesn't give Suguru time to reply before hurrying out of the class.
Suguru's left blinking bemusedly after him, and he sighs when he notices that in Satoru's hurry to do whatever he apparently had to do right this instant, he's left his bag behind. He gathers both of their things up and dumps the bags in his room, making his way outside to wait out the idiot.
He doesn't have to wait long, as not even a half hour later he can see Satoru making his way towards him. He settles down next to him, and Suguru accepts the can of unsweetened tea Satoru pushes into his hand for the silent apology it is. His shoulder is warm against Suguru's where he's leaning more against him than the tree, and he lets himself relax into it as Satoru starts going on about something inane, only half listening.
///
The mission brief wasn't accurate, an occurrence that has been far too common recently. Considering Suguru's Special Grade status, not the end of the world, but that doesn't make it any less annoying.
A handful of Grade 2's the brief said. No more than three.
Suguru left Satoru sleeping in the morning, the sun barely peaking over the horizon leaving him grouchy and unwilling to disturb the other without reason. A handful of Grade 2's. Nothing requiring two Special Grades. He left Satoru sleeping.
Trudging up the stairs back to school, the sun readily sunk behind the horizon, Suguru is seriously regretting his decision. A handful of Grade 2's has turned into a Grade 1, and a handful of Grade 2's flanked by more than a handful of Grade 3's. Nothing he couldn't handle, but chasing them down on his own took hours, with nothing more than the rolling nausea to keep him company. His phone died at some point during the fight, and the bad mood that's been chasing him since the morning returned ten fold when he flipped it open to call Satoru just to be met with a black screen.
His plan of finishing the mission early and grabbing breakfast just in time to stroll back as Satoru was waking up has been thoroughly trampled.
He still had yet to see Satoru at all today, which certainly wasn't helping things. It was supposed to be their day off, with an easy mission in the morning, and the rest of the day theirs to enjoy. There was a bakery they both wanted to go to in the city, and Suguru's mood fouled further when he realised it'll be at least another week before they're allowed out again.
Suguru drags himself back to the dorms, shouldering the door open and kicking it shut behind him. The noise attracted attention from the people occupying the living room, and he realised with tamped down dread that Nanami and Haibara came over and were hanging out with Shoko.
"Geto-san," Haibara calls out with a grin, "welcome back."
Suguru did his best to offer him a tired smile in reply, but his attention was taken by the missing member of their group. "Where's Satoru?"
Haibara's face fell into a confused frown as Shoko waved her hand in the air dismissively as if expecting the question. "He's sulking in his room." Her eyes ran over his form with enough focus to make him uncomfortable, if he wasn't already used to it. "You good?"
Suguru heard the implied question about injuries and grunted in affirmation. "Just tired," he mutters, passing the group in the living room on the way to their rooms.
Ignoring the shouted invitation to join them from Haibara, he walks straight past the door to his room and to Satoru's, not bothering to knock before walking in. He finds him lying in bed, the DS held above his head offering the only light in the room, and glasses looking untouched on his nightstand. Satoru made no move to acknowledge Suguru, and he exhales with wry amusement at just how accurate Shoko's earlier dig was.
Deciding that he can leave Satoru sulking for a little while longer, he moves to raid his closet, grabbing a spare change of clothes, Satoru's favourite Digimon shirt and hoodie included. Suguru never claimed to be above petty thievery in retaliation to the silent treatment he's getting. Walking out to head to the bathroom, he made sure to leave the door wide open, the light from the hallway far too bright for the dark room.
After freshening up and feeling a bit more human for it, but no less tired, he heads back to Satoru's room. The door was still open, Satoru looking like he hasn't moved at all, DS still held aloft, a slight dip between his eyebrows. Would be convincing as well, if it wasn't for the glass of water and pack of mints that have magically appeared on Satoru's bedside table. Suguru throws his uniform on top of Satoru's laundry pile and lets his shoulders drop as he closes the door behind him. He chugs down the water and throws a couple of mints in his mouth and then without giving Satoru any warning, Suguru flops down right on top of him, tucking his head against Satoru's shoulder. He hid his grin at the heavy wheeze his actions got, the other boy having all the air punched out of him suddenly.
"What the fuck, bastard," Satoru snaps, sounding strangled.
Suguru simply hums in reply, happy to just have Satoru close after spending the day apart. Satoru huffs, the action jostling Suguru, who in retaliation blows warm breath across his collarbone. An action that causes Satoru to shiver, Suguru noted absentmindedly, too tired to do anything more with that information.
"No, please, make yourself comfortable, I don't mind."
All Satoru's comments get is another satisfied hum, and Suguru lets himself relax fully as the DS is tossed to the side and two arms wrap around him, one of Satoru's hands running through his hair.
"Did you have dinner?" Satoru mutters, somehow still sounding put off.
Suguru shakes his head, already half asleep now that he's comfortable and warm, Satoru's hand running through his hair a soothing distraction from the aches of his muscles and the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach.
His answer is met with another sigh, one with a hint of defeat in it, so Suguru isn't overly concerned about being forced to move. He reaches up to pat the side of Satoru's face, nose burying in the side of his neck.
"Yeah, yeah." Suguru doesn't bother fighting the amount of fondness that runs through him at the petulant tone, Satoru still clinging to his put on annoyance despite his arms tightening around Suguru. "We'll go for soba tomorrow."
Satoru doesn't even like soba that much, but Suguru does so he's not about to complain. He's already asleep by the time Satoru presses a kiss to the top of his head with a mumbled, "Missed you."
///
The afternoon found them lazing around in the living room of the second year dorms, thankfully silent with the first years out on a mission. Suguru wasn't quite sure why they were so insistent on hanging around so much, but blames the fact that it's just the two of them in the year. He can't quite imagine what it would be like if their year was any combination of two between him, Satoru, and Shoko, and doesn't really care to either.
Shoko, drawing the short stick, was chosen to brave the falling temperature to grab groceries, Satoru already agreeing to cook as long as there's fresh produce in the fridge. Suguru, for his part, was happy to stay out of it, his impromptu solo mission a convenient excuse to laze about and boss the other two around.
Suguru still holding onto some form of decorum sat slouched on the couch, while Satoru, possessing none, has thrown himself down onto his lap, one leg extended over the couch's backrest, and the other extended straight over its arm. He might be inclined to offer a token protest on any other day, but still feeling the aches of the mission and relatively relaxed against the couch cushions, he's happy to sit here with a hand tangled in white silky hair, watching Satoru play the DS he's angled just enough for him to see.
Suguru's never been one to be particular about active days off, and he's not looking to start now.
The peace, however, can't last long as Shoko bursts inside in a flurry of cursing and cold wind still clinging to her. Suguru cranes his neck back to watch her dump her jacket and shoes near the door, before she makes her way over to them, throwing the grocery-laden bag on top of Satoru and herself on Suguru's other side. Aside from a huff of air when the bag collides with his stomach, Satoru makes no attempt at moving.
Suguru lets himself relax minutely, which turned out to be the exactly the wrong thing to do. The moment he slumped back, Shoko was leaning over him and tugging his hand out of Satoru's hair. Ignoring the dissatisfied noises from both the boys at the action, she started collecting Satoru's hair at the top of his head, tying them up with flourish. She leaned back looking wholly satisfied with herself, and Suguru couldn't help the snicker he let out at the sight of quite possibly the world's spikiest top knot.
That finally got Satoru to move, and he sits up, turning around so he could glare petulantly at the two of them. The grocery bag was clutched against him, and combined with the top knot, Suguru had a hard time taking him seriously.
"Go put the food away, and bring us something hot to drink," Shoko says, dropping her head on Suguru's shoulder. Satoru makes an offended noise and looks like he was going to argue for all of two seconds, before he realises that Shoko just bought the food and Suguru has a self proclaimed pass, leaving him as the odd one out. "I'll make sure your pillow doesn't move."
It was Suguru's turn to be offended, and he shrugs his shoulder to jostle Shoko, Satoru already up and moving and too far away to bother. "Is that all I am to you two?"
"Yes," came the simultaneous reply, perfectly in sync.
Suguru scowls, but was too endeared to make it stick. He cranes his neck to watch Satoru busy himself in the kitchen, and couldn't help his lips quirking up when he saw that Satoru hasn't bothered taking the hair tie out. It was an awfully domestic sight, Satoru relaxed and languid in a way that Suguru knows he only really lets himself be around him.
Sensing the eyes on him, Satoru turns around, hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie - my hoodie, Suguru thinks, something warm curling inside him - and met Suguru's eyes with a bright grin. The one that made the dimples in his cheek apparent and crinkled his eyes shut, and Suguru is gone, his own smile appearing without effort. The warm feeling in his chest grows as Shoko snorts next to him and Satoru turns back around to finish their drinks. Suguru is left staring at his back, remnants of a smile still on his lips, warmth and fondness radiating in his body and.
Oh.
That's what Shoko meant.
He turns panicked eyes at her now, slumping down low in his seat as if that'll do anything to hide him from Satoru.
Shoko flails for a moment with the sudden movement, huffing her displeasure and turning to him with an annoyed frown. "What is it now?" she asks flatly.
"Shoko," Suguru hisses, somewhat desperate, still very much panicked. "How long have I been in love with Satoru?"
Shoko looks at him incredulously before throwing her head back with a loud cackle, and Suguru would be happier for the sound if it wasn't at his expense. Unsurprisingly, the sound garners Satoru's attention, which is the last thing Suguru needs right now, so he uses one hand to try and wave him off, while trying to clamp the other over Shoko's mouth to stop her. Satoru, figuring he'll find out what's going on soon enough, ambles back to the kitchen while Shoko desperately tries to hold her laughter back, Suguru's glare seemingly not helping in the slightest.
"You're so fucking stupid," Shoko finally says, amusement still clear in her voice. "Don't worry." She pats his shoulder. "He's oblivious."
Suguru had no idea how that's supposed to be reassuring in any way, but he's on his back foot here so he'll take any win he can, even if it's at Satoru's expense. Before he can make any attempt at pulling himself together, Satoru is making his way back to the couch, balancing three mugs in his hands, tongue trapped between his teeth and poking out slightly. By Shoko's snicker next to him, he figures his face falls somewhere between lovesick and on the verge of a heart attack, but he really can't help it. Considering the revelation he just had, he deserves at least some sympathy.
Satoru puts down the three mugs on the low table in front of the couch before collapsing back into his previous spot, jostling both Suguru and Shoko, Shoko's glare significantly more annoyed than his own. He stretches back out across Suguru's lap, and if Suguru felt panicked before, it's nothing compared to what he's feeling now. Satoru, oblivious to how Suguru's world tilted on its axis not five minutes ago, stretches so he can poke Shoko in the cheek.
"What's got you laughing?" he asks as Shoko batted his hand away. He frowns and then very pointedly digs an elbow into Suguru's side. "The fuck's got you all tense?"
Suguru's halfway to making an excuse, thinking of anything to stop Shoko from potentially incriminating him, when Satoru scowls at Shoko, poking her cheek again. "You broke our pillow," he says accusingly.
Shoko glares down at him, batting his hand away again with far more force than she did previously. "I didn't do shit."
The two of them descend into an argument that Suguru doesn't think actually involves anything other than hurling insults at each other, so he busies himself by gently extracting the tie from Satoru's hair, running his hand gently through the soft mess. Other than Satoru leaning into his hand, his actions seem to do nothing to deter the other two from their bickering and Suguru is happy to just sit back, a hand tangled in Satoru's hair, and let the voices of his best friends wash over him; as annoyed as they sound with each other.
There's an unspoken I love you that sits on his tongue when he looks down at the boy in his lap now. He's going to have to do something about that soon. Probably. For now, he swallows the words down with no bitterness to be found.
///
The Sister Exchange Event is as annoying and boring as Suguru remembers it being in their first year. It's made only slightly bearable by Satoru being determined to entertain him this time around, rather than annoy him, as he did in their first year.
He only wishes that the Kyoto students also got the memo about annoying him.
All the students are stood around in the courtyard of their school, split into self determined groups. Suguru is standing with Shoko, Haibara, and Nanami, Satoru volunteering to get them snacks for the upcoming event. He knows it really was just an excuse to escape the sight of the Kyoto students so he let him go. He really wishes he tagged along as he shoots a polite smile to the fifth Kyoto student he caught staring at him.
Suguru tunes back into the conversation his friends are having just to in time to catch the tail end of Haibara's animated story.
"And then he approached Gojo-san," Haibara says, and suddenly Suguru wishes that he was paying more attention to the story than he had been.
Nanami scoffs at that, clearly hearing more of the story than Suguru did. "I don't know why he would even want to, Gojo is unbearable to deal with on a good day."
"He's not that bad," Haibara defends, before Suguru's hackles could rise. He could see Shoko narrowing her eyes at him on the side. "Plus," he continues brightly, "he always carries sweets around to hand out, and brings us souvenirs from wherever he and Geto-san get sent to."
Suguru finally decides to join the conversation now that its turned to something that isn't the event.
"You're right he's not that bad," Suguru says with a fond smile, "he's probably worse than what you're thinking." Because Satoru most certainly is, and just because Suguru is apparently in love with him, doesn't mean he's about to go any easier on him.
"You're just as bad as he is," Shoko snorts next to him. Suguru feigns offense, turning his narrowed stare at Nanami when he makes a noise of agreement.
Before he can say anything, he catches sight of Satoru towering over the rest of the students as he makes his way over to them, filled bags in both his hands. He waves him over, meeting Satoru's grin with a matching smile of his own. His smile falls when he sees Satoru get intercepted by one of the Kyoto boys.
Suguru's eyes narrow in annoyance as he measures the other boy up. He's a pretty little thing, he supposes, with narrow features, dark hair swept back, falling just short of Satoru's height. But considering he's standing next to Satoru, he doesn't hold a candle, and Suguru's attention is firmly focused on his best friend. His best friend, who's eyebrows have climbed above his round glasses, and has the beginnings of a smirk pulling at his lips, and what the fuck is Satoru doing.
He's never once entertained any advances during these events, but here he is now, smirking and letting the other boy lean closer to him, clearly amused with whatever he's saying. Something mean coils in Suguru's stomach as he sees the other boy reach for Satoru's shoulder, a dramatic pout on his face as his hand meets the cool coil of infinity. Before Suguru can do something stupid, Satoru is already brushing him off, saying something short to him before he's turning back to their group.
He settles, somewhat, when Satoru comes to a stop next to him and slings an arm around his shoulders, a warm and comforting weight. It doesn't stop him from curling his hand around Satoru's hip, just veering on the side of possessive, hand against sun warmed shirt, thumb slipping under it to meet hot skin, because he can, because he's the only one allowed. He ducks slightly, to meet the eyes of the Kyoto student who's been staring at Satoru since their interaction, a sharp glare on his features. The other boy ducks and turns away, ears burning red.
Satisfied, he turns back to his group of friends, just to meet Shoko's unimpressed stare. "I take it back," she says flatly. "You're so much worse."
Suguru splutters, only slightly chagrined at being caught out.
Satoru only looks at him bemused, and Suguru's never been more grateful for his shameless acceptance of any touch between them. Curses it a little as well, because Satoru will never read more into Suguru's actions, even when all he wants is more.
Suguru's never been one to consider himself greedy, but it's easy to be when Satoru always seems happy to give whatever Suguru wants. Easily takes Suguru's weight when he slumps against him after a mission, lets him run his hand over the expanse of his back during early mornings. But Satoru invites the touch so much that he can't find it in himself to feel any guilt. Especially not in the face of some shameless Kyoto shaman.
So Suguru isn't greedy. Not in a way he'll admit to. But it's hard to deny himself the heady feeling of reaching out, just to find his other half already reaching back.
He blames that feeling for causing him to immediately agree with Satoru's suggestion of finding a clearing to catch a quick nap in when the event starts. Shoko went with Haibara and Nanami, figuring she'll be able to offer them more help rather than sticking with him and Satoru to laze around. Suguru appreciates the effort she's putting in, despite knowing it's got more to do with not wanting to put up with them for however many hours it'll take for the two of them to get bored and clear the forest, than any real sense of responsibility.
The Kyoto students really stand no chance. Suguru wonders, just like he did last year, what the point of the event is if they're just going to let two special grades loose. Solidarity, team spirit, whatever, sure, doesn't change the fact that the moment they decide to end the event, between Satoru's Six Eyes and Suguru's curse inventory they can clear all the curses before the other school can find a single one.
However, that's for later.
Suguru finds himself following Satoru into a small clearing, huffing in amusement when Satoru impatiently gestures for him to sit down, and settles down with his back against one of the trees. Satoru wastes no time in plopping down next to him once he's settled, laying his head down on his lap and Suguru can't help the slight smile as he starts running his hand through soft hair. For someone in constant motion, it never fails to amaze Suguru how easily Satoru relaxes into his touch, even here, surrounded by cursed spirits and sorcerers willing to fight on sight.
His musings are interrupted minutes later when he catches the sound of twigs breaking on the outskirts of the clearing and voices coming closer.
"I saw them go this way," comes the voice of one of the Kyoto first years.
"We'll get the drop on them; I want to get back at them for embarrassing us last year." Suguru almost snorts at the comment, recognising the voice of one of the second year boys Satoru took particular pleasure in tormenting last year. As if anyone here was capable of sneaking up on them.
"I don't know, are you sure they went this way?" a third voice joins them.
Any further conversation is cut off as they break through the tree line, coming to a step several meters away from where they're sat. Suguru first glances down at Satoru, who by the small puffs of air he can feel against his shirt, is already napping, then at the trio who disturbed them. The boy from earlier is with them, he notes sourly, before offering them a placid smile.
The trio seem to regain their bearings, the second year reaching for his weapon with a narrowed gaze. Before they can move, Suguru uses his free hand to summon two curses over his shoulders, a particularly crazed looking grade 2 and a grade 1 that's more eyes than skin. Never dropping his smile or moving his hand off Satoru, he lets the menacing energy of his curses permeate the clearing, the three teenagers standing opposite him freezing as it reaches them.
No words are spoken as all three of them turn on their heels and flee.
Suguru looks down again, just to meet a cerulean gaze filled with mirth who's owner he was decidedly trying not to disturb. Maybe the curses weren't his brightest idea.
Satoru leans up just enough to reach his curses, crowing a bright "Bubblegum," as he reaches out to pet the Grade 2. He gasps as he looks at the Grade 1, making sure to pet it as well. "Look at you," he coos, "you've got more eyes than I do."
The sight is just endearing enough, Suguru just fond enough, that he doesn't mind the sharp elbow jamming into his thigh all that much.
He dismisses them moments later, flicking Satoru's forehead when he pouts up at him from where he settled back down on his lap. Flicks it again when Satoru just keeps staring up at him.
"What is it?"
Satoru just keeps looking at him, and it takes a significant amount of willpower for him not to fidget. He has a dumber look on his face than usual.
"Have you ever heard of quantum entanglement?" he asks finally.
"No." Suguru squints down at him. "Is this one of your weird physics things again?"
Satoru laughs, the sound sharp and bright in the silence of the forest, and Suguru can't help the answering chuckle at the sound. Satoru's eyes catch at the sight, and he's not sure what compels him, but when Satoru reaches out a hand up as if to touch him, Suguru grabs it and guides it to the side of his face himself.
"Yeah," Satoru says, voice soft in a way he's only ever heard it late at night or early in the morning. Never when the sun is high. The hand on his face feels scorching. "Yeah, it is."
The 'I love you' on his tongue is a little harder to swallow this time.
///
The smoke alarm in their dorm hasn't worked since the first week of school. Between Shoko's refusal to be parted with her cigarettes and well, everyone's habit of managing to burn at least one meal a week, it was an easy decision to make. Yaga doesn't visit their dorms anywhere near often enough to worry about him finding out.
Suguru stares up at it now. It's well past midnight and they've just come back from a mission. With several centimeters of height added over the summer break, Satoru was the only one who could reach it comfortably on his tip toes and Suguru remembers standing next to him, arms outstretched as if to catch him. Wonders why Satoru was so insistent he be there to begin with. Moral support, he supposes. Thinks 'How many special grades does it take to turn off the smoke alarm?' and snickers to himself.
Twin half-hearted kicks meet his calves, and he shoots an equally half-hearted glare at Shoko. Kicks Satoru's leg properly, from where he's sprawled out on the floor between his own, head shoved in the open fridge for apparent 'brain fried' reasons. He's leaning against the fridge door to make sure it doesn't slam shut against Satoru, and he's trying very hard not to think about the fact that he's lying between his legs.
"Okay." Shoko breaks the silence in a half-hearted whisper, exhaustion dragging her words. "Satoru, your doctor sanctioned fridge time is over." She looks like she's considering getting off the counter she's sprawled across to do something for a moment. Kick him probably.
Suguru is relatively confident in his assessment so he decides to be helpful and jams his foot against Satoru's hip.
Satoru lets out a groan that is all for show and makes no attempt at moving. Suguru's next kick is aimed at the ticklish spot near his ribs. It makes Satoru snort and squirm enough for his shirt to ride up and suddenly Suguru isn't finding it very funny anymore.
Thankfully, Satoru does eventually sit up, saving Suguru's sanity in the process. He drops a hand to ruffle his hair absentmindedly once he's in reach and he swears Satoru practically purrs under the touch. Suguru indulges him, leaving it there and petting the soft hair gently.
Shoko clears her throat not at all quietly, and when Suguru turns to look at her she's very pointedly staring down at Satoru. He must've had his eyes closed because he's blinking up at her confused, but then something must've clicked because he's suddenly blushing, ears burning red. Suguru squints at Shoko trying to figure out what look could've possibly embarrassed Satoru this much, but doesn't get very far. The look she levels at him is less sharp, but no less exasperated.
Shoko drags her eyes between the two of them and Suguru knows for a fact that he's definitely too tired for the look in her eyes. "Hey, Satoru," she starts. "What's your type?"
Suguru is definitely too tired for this.
Satoru looks entirely too betrayed to be genuine, but the trepidation in his voice is anything but. "My type?"
"Me," Suguru says flatly. Regrets the overt flirt immediately, gets pacified equally as fast when Satoru's earlier embarrassment comes back with vengeance.
"You're not my type," Satoru denies immediately with vehemence, ears very much still red.
"Well you're not my type either," Suguru fires back, like a liar. If Satoru isn't going to take the easy way out of this conversation he offered him, he's not about to make it any easier on him now.
"The fuck you mean I'm not your type," he splutters. "I'm everyone's type."
Satoru in all his indignation has stood up now, leaning against the counter opposite him. Shoko is looking between the two of them like they're one of her case studies. Suguru lets his eyes trail leisurely up Satoru's body until he meets his eyes. Tries very hard to remember that he's trying to rile him up and nothing else. Satoru flushes under his gaze and Suguru feels something warm in his chest at how easily flustered Satoru gets with him.
This boy is going to be the death of him.
"Nah." Suguru is very careful to not let his tone betray him. "I prefer them tougher."
Never one to back down, Satoru pulls himself together in record time. "I'm tough."
That gets a snort out of Shoko, and Satoru turns to her with a glare. "I'm so tough."
"Look at you," Suguru coos, now more determined to get under his skin than ever. "You're not tough at all, pretty boy."
Satoru falters, and flushes an even deeper red, shoulders drawing up, looks like he wants the ground to swallow him up as he draws up a hand to scratch at his nape, refusing to look at anyone. Suguru files that reaction somewhere deep, deep, down in his mind.
Satoru pulls himself together insultingly fast for the second time, and Suguru feels a new desire in him bloom. He wants to draw that reaction out of him again, and properly, doesn't want to give him any space to get himself together like that again, see just how far that blush goes.
Not the best time for that particular realisation, admittedly.
Unaware of how many issues he's causing Suguru with his existence, Satoru is unrelenting in his defense, for a reason that currently escapes Suguru.
"How am I not tough?" he asks hotly. "Because I don't come back from missions all torn up?"
That gets a chuckle out of Suguru. "That's not why. Plus," Suguru adds, "you're being too defensive, get riled up easy, I don't like that." He's ignoring the fact that he's the one that riled him up in the first place, very much on purpose, and that he's finding it awfully endearing. Satoru doesn't have to know everything.
"That sounds like a pretty tough thing to do!"
"No it's not." Suguru is laughing now. Even Shoko is chuckling at them.
Satoru, not about to back down now, lowers his voice into a teasing lilt. "Am I not tough enough for you?"
His facade breaks almost immediately, and as soon as he meets Suguru's eyes he's laughing as well, leaning into his space to hang off his shoulder. Suguru leans into him easily, eyes crinkling with laughter spurred on by Satoru's.
"You don't even want me," Suguru says, grin still in place.
"I want you to want me," Satoru counters immediately. 'He didn't deny it,' Suguru thinks with something dangerous like hope. Thinks 'I want you more than anything' but doesn't say that either.
"Oh my god," Shoko mutters next to them. "You two are gonna make me homophobic."
"Hey Shoko," Satoru says immediately, sickly sweet, as he turns to lean towards her. He glances at Suguru behind him, and he straightens up, ready to follow Satoru's lead. "How's Utahime?"
Suguru grins, knows exactly where Satoru is going with this, moving so he can hook his chin over Satoru's shoulder. "Yeah Shoko, how's your girlfriend doing?" The question might have been innocent coming from anyone else, but the two of them were being purposefully obnoxious about it.
Shoko's eye twitched as she glared at them. "She's not my girlfriend," she grits out.
"But you wish she was." Satoru sticks his tongue out.
"Satoru, you sure this is the conversation you want to start?" Shoko says, her eyes trailing to where Suguru has draped himself on Satoru's back. Mostly because he knows it would annoy Shoko. Partly because he wanted to.
Sue him, he's tired.
"Nope," Satoru says cheerfully. He's suddenly tense and Suguru frowns, digging his chin into the soft spot between shoulder and neck. "Time for bed, I think."
Suguru yawns at the suggestion and it turns contagious, all three of them standing around stuck yawning between snickers at the others misfortune. Suguru's been steadily leaning more of his weight on Satoru, who hasn't moved a single centimeter. It's nice.
"Okay," Suguru says on the tail end of another yawn. "We're going." Clamps a hand over Satoru's mouth when he looks like he's going to start yawning again. Wipes his hand against Satoru's shirt when he licks it like the brat he is, and Suguru really should have seen that one coming.
Despite his words, it takes him a moment to dredge up the willpower to move away from Satoru, and he doesn't move far before he's tugging on the hem of Satoru's shirt to get him to move as well. He comes easily, even if he flips Shoko off as he turns to leave, Shoko returning the gesture happily.
"Goodnight, Shoko." Suguru calls for the both of them.
"Goodnight, Suguru."
Suguru snorts at the snub and the huffy noise Satoru makes in answer. It's the most civil any of them are going to be this late.
Suguru's room is the closest, so they tumble inside and Suguru walks to his closet as Satoru collapses on his bed. He throws a spare hoodie and sweatpants at the lump, satisfied with the solid thud and an answering groan it gets him. Ignores how he made sure to throw one of his own hoodies at Satoru as he pulls one of Satoru's out for himself. Their closets are almost interchangeable at this point anyways.
Satoru's managed to get himself changed by the time he turns back to the bed and Suguru feels no remorse as he flops down next to the other boy, arm smacking across his chest none too gently.
The beds are too small for them to both stretch out comfortably, the least Satoru could do is not hog all available space for himself.
Satoru clutches at his chest, rolling away from him dramatically. "I'm wounded," he gasps out, "I don't think I'll ever recover. Tell my family to go fuck themselves."
Suguru rolls his eyes, stretching his arms above his head before using one of them to tug Satoru closer. They'll end up curling against each other during the night anyways. Satoru comes easy and props his chin up on Suguru's sternum, looking up at him. His feet are hanging off at the end of the bed. Suguru flicks his forehead to stop himself from doing something stupid like kissing it.
"What's your type anyways?" Suguru breaks the silence, because Satoru never actually said, and Suguru apparently hates himself.
"You seemed pretty confident in your answer," Satoru mutters, which again, isn't disagreement, and Suguru swears his heart skips a beat. Hopes Satoru doesn't catch it from where he's lying.
Satoru props himself up on an elbow so he can look down at Suguru. His hair is a mess and eyes still so brilliantly blue even in the darkness, and so painfully pretty that Suguru is fighting for his life here. He needs to kiss him, maybe, or punch him. He barely stops himself from pushing his face away.
Satoru traces his features with his eyes and Suguru watches him do it, scared to even breathe at this point. He's going to do something that'll give him away and then Satoru will roll right out of bed and leave and never speak to him again. A dramatic reaction befitting of Satoru.
Suguru already decided that he's going to have to tell Satoru eventually. He's absolutely not doing it tonight.
He's brave, but he's not that brave.
He wants to see Satoru's face clearly when he does say it.
"Tough," Satoru says finally, grin firmly in place.
Suguru narrows his eyes at him, poking him in the forehead.
"Okay, pretty boy," Suguru says, just to make Satoru blush again. He can't see it properly in the dark but he's sure it's there.
"Beautiful boy," Satoru counters, eyes locked on his.
Suguru feels himself flush and loses any hope of saving face when Satoru's grin turns self-satisfied. He wishes those eyes of his saw a little less sometimes.
He gives in and pushes Satoru's face away with the flat of his palm, pushing his head down into the pillow. Satoru is deterred for all of 5 seconds before he's shuffling back against him, his laugh a pleasant rumble in his chest where it presses against Suguru's.
'Give an inch, take a mile,' Suguru decides to take a page out of Satoru's book and runs his hands through Satoru's hair, pushing his bangs back. Kisses his forehead before he can talk himself out of it. It's brief, nothing more than a quick brush, entirely innocent, and it feels like it took everything in Suguru to even let himself do it.
Satoru shivers against him but makes no attempt at moving.
Suguru brings his arms around him to pull the other boy closer and lets something he recognises as hope beat its wings against his ribcage.