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Suguru is having a bad day. In all honesty, he’s having a bad week, but he tries not to think too much about why that is. Today though, today has been very bad and it’s all he can think about when he comes home.
The fact that Satoru doesn’t bound up to him to greet him only serves to sour his mood more, but it’s the reality Suguru has been living with for the last two weeks at least.
And that’s the problem.
Satoru won’t touch him anymore; hell, he barely even spends time together with Suguru and Suguru misses him like one would a missing limb.
He doesn’t even know what’s going on; one day he noticed that Satoru was less physical with him than he used to be and from then on it was just downhill. Almost everything Suguru cherishes about their relationship is going down the drain and Suguru doesn’t understand.
Satoru does reach out for him sometimes, but it’s barely enough for Suguru to even track the motion before he seems to remember himself and snatch his hand back, as if he’s trying to train himself out of a bad habit.
Sure, Satoru used to be clingy with Suguru, almost excessively so, but Suguru never minded that. And it’s only now, that Satoru is no longer doing it, that Suguru realises just how much he loved it.
Normally Satoru would be right there when Suguru comes home, skipping up to him to drape himself over Suguru’s shoulder, flick his forehead or poke his sides, demanding to hear all about Suguru’s day, and then barely letting him get two words in before he goes into a detailed recollection of his own day.
And Suguru never minded, never thought of it as annoying or bothersome and so it hurts all the more, now that these things are no longer happening.
Suguru takes off his shoes and hangs up his jacket, all while keeping an ear out for Satoru. He’s home, that much Suguru can tell by the lights being on, but he didn’t react to Suguru coming back at all and Suguru’s chest hurts.
“I’m home,” he calls out, something he never really had to do before, not when Satoru was always there to greet him at the door, but now Suguru has to go find him in the living-room, his eyes glued to his phone.
“Welcome back,” Satoru replies, his eyes only briefly leaving whatever it is he’s seeing on the screen and Suguru bites back the urge to cry.
Today has been so taxing on him that he would love nothing more than to curl up on the couch, Satoru’s lanky frame tucked in his arms and his limbs wrapped around him as he yaps on about something so inconsequential that it takes Suguru’s mind off the bad things but with how things have been between them lately, that is no longer something that is within Suguru’s reach.
And Suguru is learning to be okay with that, to respect the distance Satoru is putting between them—has to, really, if he doesn’t want to hurt Satoru—even though he doesn’t understand why it’s happening at all, but he can’t. Not today.
So he lingers in the doorway, rolling the words around his mouth, wondering if it’s going to break something further between them if he just comes out and asks but before he can make up his mind, Satoru cranes his head back to look at him.
“Everything alright?” he wants to know and the question almost makes Suguru laugh.
Nothing has been alright for weeks at this point, but he doesn’t feel like getting into that now.
“Yeah, it’s fine, it’s peachy, I just—” he cuts himself off, scrubbing a hand over his face before he squares his shoulders.
Just once. He’ll ask for this just once and then never again.
“I just had a really bad day, and I’m wondering—can you hold me? Just for like, a quick hug, maybe?” he asks and doesn’t even dare to look at Satoru’s face.
With how it’s been between them Suguru wouldn’t be surprised if something like disgust flutters over Satoru’s features and he really does not want to see that.
“Oh,” Satoru breathes out and instead of jumping up like he normally would to do exactly as Suguru asked, he takes his sweet time deciding. “I guess,” he finally mutters, dragging his body off the couch and Suguru already regrets ever opening his mouth.
But before he can tell Satoru that he changed his mind, that he doesn’t have to do this, Satoru is right there and holds out his arms.
This too, has changed, Suguru realises with mounting despair. Satoru never before gave him the chance to initiate a hug or any kind of contact really; he always just took, expecting Suguru to be okay with—and being right about it, too.
Suguru hesitates for a moment, unfamiliar with the act of having to step into Satoru’s arms when it always used to be the other way around and when he does he fears for a split second that Satoru is going to stay like this; passive, with his arms stretched out, unwilling to touch more of Suguru than he really has to.
Thankfully, that horror scenario doesn’t come true, because when Suguru presses himself against Satoru, bringing his arms around his back to pull him close, Satoru in turn brings his arms around Suguru as well.
It’s enough to bring tears to Suguru’s eyes, because this is the first time in six days that Satoru has touched him. Not that Suguru is counting, or anything.
He loses himself in the contact, in Satoru’s warmth and his scent and the way Suguru can feel him breathe and he must have taken too long because Satoru clears his throat, clearly uncomfortable.
“Shit, sorry,” Suguru gets out, moving away from Satoru as if he’s been burned and taking a step back for good measure as well.
He sees how Satoru’s hand falls to his side, how it curls into a tight fist and Suguru’s stomach churns. He made Satoru uncomfortable. He asked for more than Satoru is clearly willing to give him and he can’t believe that he was so goddamn selfish about it.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Satoru, I won’t—sorry,” Suguru mutters, no longer able to look at Satoru but unable to stop apologising as well. It’s Satoru himself who finally cuts off his rambling.
“Suguru,” is all he says but it’s enough to make Suguru’s eyes burn.
They talk still—of course they do, they live together after all—but they barely say anything of substance anymore and it feels as if it’s been ages since Satoru actually called him by his name.
“Satoru,” Suguru says in turn, hoping that his voice doesn’t sound as shaky as he feels. “Can I fix it?”
“Huh?” Satoru asks and when Suguru dares to look at him there’s genuine confusion on his face.
“Can I fix what I did?” Suguru wants to know because it has to be something he did, right? Satoru has been pulling away for weeks now and if he did so because he got a date or a partner or whatever he would have told Suguru, surely. So this means it’s something that Suguru did, that he fucked up somehow and if only Satoru would tell him so that he can fix it—
“Suguru, that’s not—it’s not like that,” Satoru finally says and Suguru’s heart plummets straight to the ground.
It’s too late then.
“I see,” he huffs out with a soft laugh, wetter than he’d like it to be. “I see. I lost you and I didn’t even notice. Fuck, I’m so sorry, Satoru, I really am, even though I didn’t notice. Even though I don’t even know why. I’m sorry.”
There’s a long, uncomfortable silence between them before Satoru speaks again.
“You didn’t do anything wrong.”
It’s such a stupid, useless, boldfaced lie that it makes Suguru laugh.
“Right. Is that why you’ve been looking at apartments?” His question makes Satoru flinch, or maybe it’s the bitterness in Suguru’s voice. “When are you moving out?” he forces himself to ask, because at this point, it’s surely only a matter of time.
“It was supposed to be a surprise,” Satoru mutters and he could have thrust a knife straight in Suguru’s chest, it would hurt less, he’s sure of that.
“A surprise,” he repeats, feeling cold all over. “I didn’t know you could be this cruel.”
It’s a lie; he knows Satoru. He can be thoughtless and careless and mindlessly cruel to the people he doesn’t like but Suguru never had that directed at him. And now that it is, he doesn’t know how to deal with it.
Suguru wants to flee and hide in his room and curl up under his blanket; maybe until Satoru is gone and his life bereft of something he stupidly thought would always be there but the look on Satoru’s face keeps him pinned right where he stands.
“No, Suguru,” Satoru starts but Suguru doesn’t let him finish.
“You forget that my mail is linked to that account as well. I get recommendations based on your latest research all the time. Don’t even pretend; you’re looking at apartments with only one bedroom.”
Suguru had almost crushed his phone the first time it happened and every subsequent time it happened had felt like a punch to the gut. There were a lot of recommendations, meaning Satoru must have been looking for a new apartment almost frantically.
“The thing with the apartment is not like that,” Satoru tries again, wringing his hands in front of his chest but not really offering up any kind of explanation. “It’s not like that,” he finishes weakly, seemingly unable to come up with anything better and now finally anger sparks inside of Suguru.
“Then what is it like, Satoru? Huh? Explain it to me, because it sure looks to me as if you want nothing to do with me anymore.”
Satoru blanches at that.
“I’m just trying to give you space!” he finally cries out and Suguru scoffs at that.
“Giving me space, right,” he mockingly says. “Is that why you don’t talk to me anymore? Why you won’t touch me anymore? Gods, Satoru, some days I’m surprised you don’t get up and leave the room the moment I step into it. Giving me space,” he repeats again, the anger being drowned out by the hurt once more. “Did you ever ask me if I want any of that?” he finishes in a whisper and he’s alarmed when he sees tears form in Satoru’s eyes.
“But you do, right? I mean, everyone does, when it comes to me. And the others, they said—”
“The others?” Suguru demands to know because what does anyone else have to do with this?
“Remember when we were at Nanami’s place last time?” Satoru asks, avoiding Suguru’s gaze.
It’s been a few weeks, but of course Suguru still remembers. It’s the last time Satoru was open with him, the last time Satoru touched him without reservation. It’s hard for Suguru to forget that.
“Yeah,” he simply says, because what else is there to say.
“You said you don’t mind that I’m being—that I am like I am,” Satoru says with a self-deprecating smile. “But it’s a lie, right? You do mind. And rightfully so, I guess, because who wouldn’t mind. I just—I’m just trying to not make you hate me.”
Suguru remembers as if it were yesterday; Satoru had been over him all evening and by the time Haibara asked if Suguru ever minded Satoru’s clinginess, Satoru had been stretched out on the couch, his head in Suguru’s lap as he lazily scratched at his scalp.
There were so many different answers at the tip of his tongue, ranging from a simple ‘No’ to a way too honest ‘I love it’ and so he had settled on a neutral ‘I don’t mind, it’s fine’. Clearly that had been the wrong thing to say.
“And you thought letting me think that you hate me is the way to go?” Suguru asks because that’s been the only thing rattling around his mind these last few days.
“I don’t hate you!” Satoru is quick to say, his voice urgent and Suguru pushes a hand through his hair.
“Satoru, you don’t touch me anymore. You don’t talk to me, you’re being stiff and stand-offish with me. What did you expect me to think?”
“I don’t know,” Satoru admits, his entire stance slumping in despair. “I just—I just don’t want you to get tired of me. I want to give you all the space you need so that I can stay by your side forever,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.
“I never asked for space,” Suguru gets out. “I don’t want space. I want you, back in my life, like you were before,” he confesses and he’s about to reach out for Satoru’s hand when he remembers the apartments. “When are you—did you already sign a new lease?” he forces himself to ask because if they can work through everything else, he’s sure they can work through this, too.
He won’t like it, living apart from Satoru, but if they can meet up regularly, and go back to how they were before, Suguru will make it work. Anything to not lose Satoru completely.
“I wasn’t going to move out,” Satoru quietly says and a flash of pain goes through Suguru.
Satoru is still lying to him.
“I see,” he whispers, and something in his voice must have tipped Satoru off, because he frantically steps closer.
“Suguru, no, I wasn’t going to move out, I promise, I just—” He cuts himself off, biting his lower lip and avoiding Suguru’s eyes.
“You were just looking at options, I get it,” Suguru mechanically states, wills himself not to react outwardly besides this, even though his eyes burn.
All this talk about giving Suguru space, when in reality Satoru just wants to get away from him.
“I can move out, too, if that’s easier for you,” Suguru finally offers because he’ll have to move anyway. He could never stay in an apartment he shared with Satoru without him in there.
“I was looking for a new place for us,” Satoru blurts out, reaching out for Suguru’s sleeve. “I—it was just a stupid daydream on my part, okay, let’s forget about it.”
Suguru blinks.
“You were looking at one-bedroom apartments,” he reminds Satoru, who goes a little bit red at that.
“Yeah, like I said—a stupid daydream. I didn’t actually think you’d agree, I mean—there’s no faster way to make you tired of me than living together, right?”
“We are living together,” Suguru reminds him, because nothing Satoru says makes any sense anymore.
They share this apartment, have been ever since they started at college, so Suguru really doesn’t understand what Satoru is going on about.
“No,” Satoru whines out, tugging on Suguru’s sleeve as if he could make him understand like that.
Suguru can’t keep up with this anymore; his heart is not able to take it. One moment he thinks Satoru is going to leave him and then he says confusing things like this and it’s all just too much.
“Satoru, I need you to explain to me exactly what you were thinking because I don’t get it. And I—I can’t take it, this—” he waves at the space between them, hoping to make Satoru understand. “I can’t go on like this.”
Satoru’s breath comes out hard and fast at that, as if he’s about to run away from Suguru again, despite the way he’s still clutching Suguru’s sleeve in his hand but Suguru waits him out. He needs an answer and he needs it now.
“I want us to live together, move in together. Share a bedroom,” he finally says, his voice faint and trembling. “Because I’m in love with you. And I just—I thought a little daydreaming couldn’t hurt. I knew you’d never agree, that you’re not—and I mean, I don’t want to make you tired of me faster than I am even now, so of course it’s never happening, but I just—it was nice looking at the apartments and dreaming for a while. Especially since I couldn’t—since I wouldn’t allow myself to be annoying with you anymore. And I’m sorry, I know this is not—I can still move out, if you want,” he weakly finishes and let’s go of Suguru’s sleeve.
He doesn’t get far, because Suguru chases his hand, tangling their fingers together, clearly much to Satoru’s surprise.
“I don’t want you to move out,” Suguru tells him, his voice barely carrying farther than the space between them. “I don’t want you to be less annoying with me. I want you back like you were before, clingy and physical and in my face and there all the time. I want us to go back to how we were five weeks ago. And then I want to move in with you,” Suguru finally says, daring to step closer to Satoru. “Because I’m in love with you, too, and living together with you, sharing our lives even more than we do now, is something I want as well.”
Satoru blinks up at him, his eyes wide and surprised and Suguru aches to lean in to kiss the tears still clinging to his lashes away, but he forces himself to stay still. He thinks he would be allowed, but he can’t take a chance with Satoru. He needs him to lean in first.
And Satoru does.
He leans in, not for the kiss Suguru is dying for, but to press their cheeks together, his free arm coming around Suguru to cling to his back, while he tangles their fingers together more firmly.
“I’m sorry,” Satoru whispers, his breath tickling Suguru’s ear. “I’m sorry for being stupid and thoughtless and making you think I hate you and assuming things. I won’t do it again.”
“See that you don’t,” Suguru agrees, making Satoru chuckle and Suguru just has to tilt his head to brush his lips against Satoru’s skin. “Please,” he adds, more pleading than he’d like to be, really, but he doesn’t care, can’t care, not when it’s Satoru. “I have missed you.”
“I have missed you, too, so much,” Satoru wetly chuckles out, pressing even closer even though there is barely any space between them anyway.
Suguru can tell that there is something else he wants to say, but for some reason he’s holding himself back and Suguru sighs.
“Satoru,” he admonishes him. “Don’t hold back, not with me, please. What is it?”
“Alright,” Satoru huffs out. “Can I move in with you today? We don’t have to find a new apartment, right? We can just—you always wanted an office anyway.”
It makes Suguru laugh, relief and happiness and love all bubbling up in his throat and he peppers every inch of Satoru he can reach with kisses.
“If you think I’m letting you out of reach again after this, you’re delusional,” he gives back. “We can move your things tomorrow. Today I just want to hold you.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Satoru agrees and then completely contrary to his words, he pulls away from Suguru, pulling an unhappy sound out of him. “Let’s go to the couch; I want to be a boneless lump on top of you and I have to catch you up on five weeks of daily reports.”
“And whose fault is that?” Suguru asks, playfully tugging on Satoru’s hair, but readily following him to the couch, their hands still tangled together.
“Guilty as charged,” Satoru immediately says. “And it won’t happen again, not unless you tell me to fuck off.”
“So never then,” Suguru says, and before Satoru can push him down on the couch, he steps close, takes Satoru’s chin in his hand and presses a kiss to his lips. “Never ever gonna happen,” he whispers and feels Satoru shudder against him.
“I’m holding you to your words,” he gives back, pressing close for another kiss, one that Suguru willingly gives him and it’s only after a few minutes of kissing that he allows Satoru to push him down on the couch.
True to his words, Satoru immediately climbs on top of him, stretching out all the way, Suguru’s arm securely around him, before he goes heavy and limp.
“I have missed you so much,” Satoru mutters and Suguru nuzzles the top of his head.
He doesn’t point out again that it was entirely Satoru’s fault that they were in this situation to begin with, because it’s useless and already resolved anyway and in all honesty, he would much rather use his lips to press kisses to Satoru’s head over and over again than to speak.
Satoru speaks enough for the both of them anyway, with how he immediately launches into his rambling of his days and Suguru lets out a long, happy sigh.
This is exactly where he wanted to be for the last few weeks and he couldn’t be happier to finally be here again.