Archive of Our Own

It's a hot summer night in the school's dorms, cicadas chirping outside and the trees creak softly as the faintest whisper of a breeze makes its way through the half open window of Suguru's own room, one that is currently being sieged by Satoru and his belongings – a red hoodie hanging from the desk chair, a pair of slippers or, better said, a slipper without its pair was thrown somewhere on the wooden floor, and then a Gameboy next to it, forgotten amongst the pile of stuff the older boy had brought a long time ago and never retrieved as he began spending more time in this room than his own. Safe to say, the abundance of free time had started to go from appealing and relaxing to boring and stressing for one of them, one who is seemingly intent on not letting the other focus on his book, by some lame, russian author, in the first one's own words, because he is bored out of his mind and the only thing capable of helping his case is his best friend in front of him as he lays sprawled out on the bed, long and lanky legs hanging off it as he exhales and audibly complains:

“Su-gu-ru, can you pay attention to me for a second?” The tone alone is annoying enough to the aforementioned boy, who simply shrugs and tries his hardest to remain focused, no matter the cost, the cost being an obnoxiously high pitched voice that repeatedly called his name and an equally obnoxious index finger poking at his cheek.

“What do you want, Satoru?” He doesn't even try to feign niceness, he just wishes the white haired one could just make himself busy with something else, anything other than him.

“Tch, don't sound so annoyed! I'm just so bo-red, we should do something fun, y'know?”

“I am having fun right now, not my fault you aren't,” and he still doesn't bother looking up from his book and the motion only serves to piss Satoru off a bit more. “By the way, stop poking me!”

At that, the boy laughs while poking the other one with slightly more force, earning himself a slap on the wrist in return, and that seems to do it for a while, given he remains quiet (as quiet as Gojo Satoru can be, that is), but his silence has always made Suguru far more wary than whatever antics he pulls all the time, for his mind is a danger to himself and others and more often than not, boredom and silence only lead to him plotting things that end up with them being scolded by their teacher or in dire situations, some too dangerous for him to take them so lightly as Suguru himself reprimands him way too often for and the response he gets from Satoru is usually “you should live a little! Life is all about experiencing new things, but a buzz kill like you wouldn't know that”, and said response tends to make him more annoyed than angry, even though he retorts by smacking the taller boy in the back of his head for saying such things.

So naturally, Satoru has been far too quiet for what becomes a bit more than thirty minutes, and as one would expect from someone like him, the reasons are probably nerve wracking and whatever it is he is orchestrating in his devious mind, it can't be good, in fact, it isn't –  because he very suddenly suggests what can be called the most stupid idea he's ever had, or so Suguru is about to say.

“We should make out, Suguru,” and he says it so, so nonchalantly, so lightly, as if it's nothing, as if that's what friends do when they're bored and have nothing better to do.

“What?” Suguru is too astonished to give a better answer, to come up with something more clever and that reaction makes Satoru turn to him with the biggest shit eating grin he can muster, apparently.

“I said, we should make out. Like, kissing, kissing and touching, kissing with tongue, lots of tongu-”

“I know what it means! I just don't know why you would suggest something like that,” his sudden nervous demeanor must be the funniest thing to Satoru, to see the black haired boy so shy over kissing isn't an everyday occurrence.

“I told you we should do something fun, and I've never made out with anyone,” he starts to explain, still playing it off as if it meant absolutely nothing, as if your best friend hasn't been crushing on you for almost a year now, idiot, is what Suguru is thinking amidst his panic. “Well, I did kiss this girl once but it sucked! I wanna try it again.”

“And why, exactly, would you suggest doing it with me?” 

“Ah, dunno, you seemed like you'd be a good, experienced kisser?” He tilts his head to the side, as if he's considering a plethora of reasons that would validate his statement, “Plus, you're my best friend, I trust you with this.”

Trust, what does that have to do with making out? Is he being serious? The experienced bit did make him a little amused, firstly because he hadn't kissed that many people to begin with and the only two people he had made out with weren't that big of a deal, so he isn't too sure where Satoru could've gotten that from, if it even matters at a time like this, and then because he says that after explaining what making out is means to the so-called expert in the matter.

“So you're offering to use me for your dumb experiments? Screw you, Satoru,” he says and then scowls, but there's no bite to his words, choosing to entertain the boy for a while because after all, he could benefit from his experiment himself, but Satoru doesn't have to know that, though.

“Huh?! That hurts, S’guru, I'm not gonna use you, I would never,” he feigns offense but bites back a little chuckle while holding the grin on his lips all the way, “We're just having fun, don't you wanna see what it feels like, too?”

The question is innocent at first glance, but Suguru has spent enough time with Satoru to know what a menace he can be sometimes, when he truly wants something – and the implications of him going through all this trouble to kiss Suguru, to see what it would feel like to kiss him, they have his mind going on and off and then imploding on itself, and they make his stomach churn in an unrecognizable feeling, or rather an unnamed one, for he has felt something aching to this a few times in the past; back when they had their very first mission together and despite all the arguing and fighting they did, Satoru didn't think twice to pretty much risk one of his arms to save him from a deceivingly powerful curse, and then some time after that when their friendship began to become much more intimate and close and his own dorm room became Satoru's, too, until they found themselves spending nights together and Satoru went from sleeping on a makeshift bed on the floor to doing so in Suguru's own bed; that strange feeling in his gut started twirling and dancing one of those nights in which he found himself entangled in a mess of long limbs and lanky arms next to the other boy, and he was sleeping so soundly he couldn't bring himself to push Satoru away and wake him up, even more so when he unknowingly nestled his own body between Suguru's side and his arm, chasing the warmth that radiated from him during that cold autumn night a few months ago.

So the feeling evoked in him by the opportunity to kiss Satoru right now is not at all new to him, he just refuses to acknowledge it and give it a name, to give it the name he knows it should have, for that would change everything between them and he isn't sure he wants to go through that during this time of his life -their lives-, a time where they're being called to do more and more missions than ever, each one a bit more dangerous than the previous one, he could not inconvenience his best friend like that. All that thinking made him shortly unaware of Satoru's last sentence, though, him saying they're just going to have some fun, is that what their friendship means to him? Just having fun, passing time, a distraction from all the stress from the higher-ups, all the curses and risks they face almost daily, he would kiss Suguru just out of curiosity and then he would carry on like it never happened, and it all hurts like the dull blade of a knife puncturing his chest forcefully and then twisting and turning once it's inside his flesh.

Whatever sadness the thought might bring him, he doesn't bring up or mention, instead he chooses to indulge in this one little thing, this thing that won't happen ever again and if it does, it will still be as meaningless as it should be right now, so he sighs, defeated and uncaring only on the outside, before speaking, “Fine, I'll do it, but if you do anything weird I'm beating your ass right here and now.”

Satoru's eyes light up at those words, and it's almost comedic how he jumps from the bed and sits next to Suguru, clumsily, too excited for someone who supposedly only wants to have fun and experiment. He isn't wearing his glasses, he doesn't when they're just hanging out in their rooms, saying he doesn't need them when he's with Suguru, because he knows he can rest and lay back when he's around, so his insanely deep, bright blue eyes are fully visible and because of that, it is nearly impossible for the black haired boy to not gaze into them for an instant, wishing he could take in the sight of what seems like an ocean inside his irises for longer than Satoru apparently allows him to before he starts talking again.

“No weird shit! Promise,” and ah, Suguru wishes he could trust him when he says that, he wishes he wasn't so troubled and stressed about crushing on this boy who is so incredibly annoying and loud, rude and out of touch with most people, but he'll never admit to anyone just how he finds those things charming, as dumb as that makes him feel.

Neither of them says anything after that, and the silence in the room begins to grow uncomfortable now that they're facing each other, the book in Suguru's hand long forgotten and set aside carefully on his nightstand. And as expected, it's Satoru who decides to make the first move, slowly moving closer to the shorter of the two, until he has no choice but to keep up the eye contact regardless of how he's starting to sweat, even if just slightly, hands shaking on his side as Satoru's own pale and cold ones reach up to his shoulders and tug at them to get rid of whatever distance is left between their faces, resulting in a tender brush of lips that can hardly be called a kiss, but the sensation, as faint as it is, spurs something in Suguru that gives him enough courage to do it again, with more intent now as he is the one who starts to move his lips over Satoru's own a lot slower than he'd like, yet the older boy takes that as some sort of challenge, because he chooses that moment to push his body impossibly closer to Suguru's, to the point where Suguru has to put his own hands on the taller one's waist just to make sure he doesn't topple them both to the floor, although he would not mind having Satoru on top of him, now that he thinks about it, but that's not what they're going for – this is supposed to be an experiment on kissing and making out.

The intentions to remain professional, whatever that means, become blurry once the cold touch of his hand on Satoru's thin waist entices a soft, soft gasp out of his mouth and into Suguru's own, and it reverberates in between their kisses, now less shy and more pronounced, deeper than a few seconds ago, with the tip of a tongue peaking at rosy lips asking for a permission it doesn't wait for, because it's already licking over them gently and with so much care, before it makes way beneath those plump, warm lips and inside an even warmer mouth, until it's tracing teeth and wet flesh. All his talk to not do anything weird is thrown out of the window momentarily, because Satoru's reaction to his touch is a reminder of how deprived of closeness to other people he must be, given his technique and his general rude demeanor, he's not one to be seen sharing physical contact with a lot of people and even with Suguru he has never gone too far, settling with holding his hand from time to time or leaning on his shoulders, at least only while he's awake, for he is all over the black haired boy when they sleep together even if he doesn't know that, and Suguru has never told him about it, fearing it would make him not want to share a bed with him anymore, if he's being dramatic enough.

He swears he is trying his hardest to not be the one who does some weird shit, but it's almost impossible when Satoru's hold on his shoulders becomes bruising and his nails dig in them through his shirt, all of that over a barely there brush of Suguru's hands on his waist - through his own shirt, no less, he can only imagine what kind of reactions he could get out of Satoru if he were to touch him more intimately, closer, with no barriers between his hands and the white haired boy's slim frame, and the thought itself robs him of a little whine now, a sound he would've been embarrassed of making in front of Satoru of all people, if it weren't for the fact that the boy himself seems to be absolutely lost in the sway of their tongues and the taste of their kisses. And when they least expect it, there's teeth involved – Satoru inadvertently and apparently unknowingly bites down on Suguru's lower lip, with more force than he should've if he had enough experience to go by, but it results in a mix of pain and something neither of them can quite place at the moment, and it also ends up with Suguru pulling apart and away to catch his breath and maintain his last bit of rationale, thinking this was a bad, bad idea.

“There, now you know what it feels like,” it's all he gives Satoru, who is breathing heavily and visibly dizzy with a feeling Suguru doesn't know what it's called, and he is still too out of himself to say something snarky in return.

So the boy just laughs it off, as well as he can in this situation, not looking at Suguru through it all from where he's staring at their now joint legs in the floor, unaware of when they became this entangled in so little time. But was their kiss so short lived? He isn't sure, neither is Suguru, this whole thing felt too short and too long all the same.

“I guess I do… Thanks, S’guru,” he trails off before he asks, “are kisses supposed to be this bitter?”

He is so utterly annoying, who even says thank you after something like that?! Is what Suguru wants to scream at him, but he would rather not start an argument right now, he still wants to bask in the lingering taste of Satoru's lips, to replay the moment over and over again in his head, to pretend he isn't so stupid and so annoying and so Satoru. But the intent to not start a fight kind of fades away, after that last question dawns on him and hits him like a goddamn truck.

“What the hell do you mean, Satoru?!” And even if he tries to play it off as just another one of Satoru's jokes, he feels a little hurt at the fact that their very first kiss is called bitter, wasn't it good enough? Is he really that bad?

But the other boy is just giggling while grazing his lips with his own fingers, seemingly appreciating the kiss no matter how bitter it felt to him.

“I mean, you taste like curses, if that makes sense,” oh, it does, it totally does. It makes sense he'd taste like those despicable things he's forced to put in his mouth almost every day, and it would make sense that even when he hasn't ingested any curses in almost two days the taste still lingers in his mouth nonetheless. “That's fine, I'll bring you something sweet for next time.”

Next time. He says that so calmly, again, like it's just the most normal and natural thing to do with your best friend whom you've known for only a year, well of course.

“Are you gonna ask me to make out with you when you're bored again?” it rolls off his tongue with slight annoyance, not the real kind, because he would never say no to Satoru – not when he's sure his eyes are all lit up with excitement at the prospect of kissing him again and again, because he'd do it for the rest of his life if he could.

“I mean, it was fun, wasn't it? We should do it again sometime,” Suguru has to keep reminding himself they are just having fun, no blame to place on anybody for how the little voice in his head is mocking him for letting this happen in the first place, so it's okay if he just lets Satoru have his fun, isn't it?

“Yeah… we should,” he says in an airy voice, not uninterested but with a degree of difficulty in hiding his hurt from both the Six Eyes and the person who currently knows him best.

Satoru apparently doesn't suspect a thing, so he gives him a little smile and resumes whatever it was he was doing prior to this whole ordeal, leaving Suguru alone with his thoughts and unable to continue reading his book, too upset when he should be feeling giddy and pleased with having done the one thing he could only dream of doing a few months ago.

Yet he feels his heart softly sinking and curling in itself at the thought of being only a fun time, a distraction when Satoru's bored.

So they end up doing it again, then again and again, several times and each time it escalates a bit more than the previous occasion and Suguru feels even more confused the more they do those things, the more he touches Satoru, even if it isn't past the limits of his clothes and what he's comfortable with, just feeling the warmth of the skin on his back and his waist, down to the warmth of his thighs is more than enough for him to feel a little bit crazier the more he touches, the more he gets to know where and how to touch to make Satoru tremble and whimper, despite never once going further than what he thinks they should go. He often wonders why Satoru keeps asking him for kisses and cuddles, even when they're in front of their sole classmate, Shoko, or in front of their juniors, Haibara and Nanami, he doesn't shy away from demanding at least a peck on the lips from Suguru regardless of what they say (and they often call them gross and inconsiderate for doing such things so shamelessly) or what they might think; and Suguru knows what that is, Shoko herself has been kind enough to let him know she knows.

“Is your boyfriend not going with you on your new mission?” She asks, without a care in the world, while sitting next to him in their empty classroom right after both being assigned their tasks for the day. 

She must not know they've both been too busy lately, and with a big mission coming soon for the two of them, Satoru has been sent off to deal with some curses before they leave so there won't be too much trouble while they're not around. But it's not that what makes Suguru choke on his own spit, it's the fact that she talks about Satoru as if they're a thing, what's worse, as if he's his boyfriend, and he totally isn't, he's not even sure he wants him to be, he's still annoying.

“He's not my boyfriend,” he's quick to say, and in such a stressed tone it makes her laugh, having clearly achieved her wish to be the one to tease him and mess with him when Gojo isn't around. “He's on a mission today, so no, he's not coming, what about you? You're not going to Kyoto to meet your little crush?”

She scowls and gives him a middle finger in response, not wanting to get into that right now. Jackpot, he thinks, she was all over that noisy girl from Kyoto during last year's goodwill event.

“At least my little crush isn't an annoying idiot, but to each their own, is what they say,” he can't argue with her on that, yet he remains adamant on denying Satoru is anything other than a very close friend to him, or so he thinks, only him, everyone else seems to have a very different impression. “You don't get to say he's not your boyfriend after kissing him in front of the whole school which, first of all, gross. Second of all, you look like an idiot whenever he says anything.”

He opens his mouth to say something, anything to defend himself and his pride, but there is absolutely nothing he can come up with that could possibly excuse or explain the undeniable truth, they have been kissing very publicly, even if it's just been small, innocent pecks on the lips and nothing compared to what they do behind closed doors, but it still gives off the wrong impression. He can't even say they're just really close friends and nothing more, that would definitely dig his grave deeper and he's in no mood to spiral down his own troubled feelings for his supposed best friend right now, so he does what he does best – he gets up and leaves Shoko behind without a word, only hearing her giggles from afar that assured him she got what she wanted, to piss him off, probably.

And as it turns out, that isn't the last time someone asks him about Satoru in that context, because most people around them catch up to whatever they have quick enough, yet neither him nor Suguru say anything about it or about how they continue to exchange the sort of closeness mere friends wouldn't and shouldn't be sharing, and although he trusts Satoru enough to be sure he wouldn't be weird with Suguru if he brought it up and tried to talk about it, or if he chose to stop doing those things with him, he's sure he would respect their friendship enough to not throw it away over something like that. What he isn't so sure of, though, is how to lay it all out without inevitably confessing the extent of his feelings for Satoru, for as much as he loves him, more than romantically, dare he say, he doubts he would reciprocate any of it. A part of Suguru yells at him for being naive enough to give in to Satoru's bad ideas and let himself be twisted around by his needs and wishes, because he is sure, no matter how much Satoru cares about him, he does not love him the way Suguru does, he is just having fun and experiencing those new things he talks about all the time, Suguru is nothing but a learning experience for whoever comes next.

“S’guru, I'm back!” Satoru announces loudly as he enters his room without knocking, not like he's ever done so before – he's never been polite enough, not even when they were first getting to know each other during their first year. He's holding some small paper bags that he carelessly throws on Suguru's bed, earning himself a scowl for it.

“I noticed. Care to put that somewhere else?” He asks in spite of fully knowing what the answer will be, eyeing Satoru from head to toe as if to judge him, but the boy still doesn't budge nor does he drop his grin.

“Nope! I brought you these,” he hands Suguru one of the bags, but he can't see what's inside until he grabs it and peaks inside it, finding an arrange of many different candies from way too many different brands, ones he's never seen nor had before and he doesn't have to ask to know where this is leading to. Starting from the fact that Satoru knows very well he's not usually the biggest lover of candy and sweet things as he is, but Suguru clearly remembers one of their conversations from before.

And how could he not? He noticed after their first kiss how Satoru either had some desert before kissing him or asking to be kissed, or he brought Suguru something for himself, whatever helped ease the bitter taste of curses away from their mouths. Suguru would've found it insulting if it didn't make him feel so silly, giddy and filled to the brim with something he still refuses to name and acknowledge, he opts to admit it is a nice gesture and he wouldn't say no if it makes it better for Satoru, the whole kissing thing, so he chooses one small candy, wrapped in an equally red and shiny paper, from the unhealthy amount of options in the bag and unwraps it slowly, not missing the hardly contained excitement in the taller boy, one that matches his own, even if he doesn't say it out loud, because he's always playing hard to get with Satoru, always pretending he doesn't want it just as bad, acting like he won't chase his lips when he pulls away, only to be humbled time and time again when he does chase after him every time they have to separate to breathe again – he thinks it's unfair, kissing him has become like breathing to him, so why must he pull away when it's getting better and better?

He takes the little red candy to his lips and lets it slip into his mouth, grimacing slightly at what he'd consider extreme sweetness, but Satoru is still looking at him intently, and Suguru notices how he's clenching his fingers over his own lap, fists closed tightly as if trying to keep his hands to himself, which is funny, it's not every day one gets to see the Gojo Satoru trying so hard to behave and be composed, so he doesn't let this opportunity pass him by and he barely sucks at the hard candy, humming as he feigns enjoyment and gives the older boy a smug, annoying grin in the meantime, taking way longer than he should in eating the damn thing, is all Satoru thinks and then says.

“Alright! I'm done waiting, you're taking too long,” it's what he offers before basically ambushing Suguru and pushing his lips against his hastily, just as carelessly as most of the things he does, except to Suguru himself every single one of his kisses makes him feel cared for, sickeningly so, because there is nothing aching to that feeling in the things they do.

It should gross him out, too, to allow Satoru's tongue to breach past his lips and then snatch away the sweet from his own before sucking on it in the middle of all their messy, wet kissing and pushing it back into his mouth, repeating it several times and leaving behind a thin line of drool that falls off their lips as well as that insurmountably sweet flavor in their mouths, one that mixes with the bitterness of Suguru's curses and the cigarettes he smokes to drown out the taste of those things. But instead of it being gross in the slightest, it all just makes him want even more, whatever he can get from Satoru right now, even if he doesn't know what he wants, he sort of pleads for something when he reaches up to the other boy's nape and lets his fingers tangle amongst the snow white hairs over there, pulling softly at them and using that little moment in which Satoru gasps on his lips to breathe for a few seconds before diving right back in, biting down on his red stained lower lip now – not harshly but still intent on leaving a little mark of his indents there.

They stay like that for a while, kissing languidly; breathing into each other's mouth whenever it felt like too much in too little, only to push back into that deliciously bittersweet and searing hot wetness of each and every one of their kisses, not minding at all if the corners of their lips begun to be tainted lightly by the little droplets of spit that overflowed the more intense it got, until they eventually slow things down and turn deep kisses into smaller pecks and subtle bites after all of their initial desperation – one he finds surprising, because even after having kissed so many times by now, Satoru has never once been this eager to do it, and perhaps it's because he's been away at missions far too often and the little time he got to spend with Suguru was when they slept, which was only when the shorter one was on school grounds as well and not doing missions of his own, so he understands the urge to devour him out of the blue, for he felt the same way. Yet he does not ask why that's the first thing he does when he gets back and sees him, nor does he mention Shoko’s taunts about them dating, he shouldn't and he doesn't have to, because they aren't, so it's fine to let things be, for now, until Satoru miraculously notices his pitiful pining one day and has enough mercy on him to address it all himself and maybe even spare him for being such a shitty friend, he can have hope for every possible outcome except the one where his feelings are met with reciprocation. That's simply not possible.

“How was your mission?” Suguru asks, as if that has anything to do with what we just did, he thinks but doesn't say.

“Lame at first, tiring as it dragged out, I had to go to a lot of meetings with a bunch of old people right after, boring stuff,” he gives back as he sprawls himself on the bed without even caring to remove his shoes and for that he gets a pillow thrown at him. “How was yours? Did you miss me?”

The taunt comes off in what Satoru must think is a sultry voice, a bad attempt at flirting and one that would be tone deaf if neither of them was self aware enough to know that what they do isn't simply because they're really good friends who make out a lot and whatnot.

“Mine was fine, nothing too interesting… just regular curses doing regular curse stuff,” Suguru answers before plopping down next to Satoru, resting his head over his crossed arms, laid on his stomach as he looks at him through lidded eyes and messy black bangs that fall over his face in the process. “Surprisingly, I did miss you, who would've thought?”

And despite it not being the first time they've said such things to each other, it is the first time he says it ever since whatever they have going on started, so Satoru doesn't know what to make of his admission at first, so he just laughs it off,  like he does when he's too taken aback to come up with anything witty to retort with, and then he closes his eyes in order to avoid Suguru's piercing, all knowing gaze, probably with the already prepared excuse of a headache and his eyes hurting for using his technique all week, and Suguru would believe that were they under entirely different circumstances, except this time they aren't and it's him who doesn't know what to make of Satoru's reactions as of lately whenever he says something that isn't news to either of them. Things like saying they missed each other, it shouldn't be anything out of the ordinary and yet Satoru keeps acting like it is, as if he's uncomfortable at the mere thought of it all, or at least that's how Suguru has been feeling and being left in the dark over most things in their friendship recently does not help his case at all.

“Is everything alright, Suguru?” The question is so sudden and unexpected and it sparks a weird feeling in Suguru's chest, but what comes after is even worse, because he sounds very serious and he rarely ever speaks in that ominous tone. “I've heard some things from Shoko, y'know, so I wanted to hear it from you.”

It is so over. Everything is so, so done for, it's what Suguru starts to think in a panic that he tries his best to not show on his face but he's sure he's looking more pale than he should be, and he can also feel the fear in his eyes at just hearing that whole sentence, even more so when he sees Satoru is eerily quiet, he's always quiet in the worst moments, it's like he does it on purpose. And so he begins to come up with a million excuses for whatever it is Shoko told him, he is trying to find a way to lie himself out of the awkward situation he knows it's sure to come if this is about what he thinks it is, still, instead of saying anything that could definitely make it worse for him before he goes down the route of answering the question with one of his own.

“What’d you hear?” He feels dumb even asking, and the small tremble of his voice as he does only serves to make Satoru behave weirder than he already is, because he shrugs and looks at Suguru with furrowed brows.

Damn Shoko, she fucking told him, not like she knows, but she must've told him something.

“Have you been smoking? That's gonna kill you, idiot,” what?! Even if it's seemingly out of nowhere, Suguru visibly and physically deflates for a second, letting air pass through his lungs once he's sure Satoru doesn't know anything, he doesn't even have a clue.

Still, there's so much worry in Satoru's words and the sound of his voice he can't help but feel bad if only a little, yes, he has been smoking, although mostly because lately the taste of curses has gotten so unbearable he needed something strong to drown it out, so he went to Shoko for a little guidance and that's how he ended up here, being interrogated by his best friend on his bad habits as he almost dropped to his knees at the prospect of having to tell said best friend he's been head over heels for him for some time now and he's taken advantage of his curiosity by making out with him, thank you very much.

“Ah, that. I have, eating curses hasn't been the most savory thing for me lately, m’sorry, Satoru,” he all but mutters while nuzzling his face over his arms, not sure if it's okay to feel embarrassed of admitting such a small thing.

Yet Satoru seems understanding, letting go of his scowl and relaxing his limbs as he exhales and looks up at the ceiling, giving Suguru enough room to ease himself after the sudden tension.

“I get that, but you're just gonna reek of cigarettes and taste more bitter when we kiss now! You suck.”

“You can always spend your old money on sweets for us in that case, if you really wanna keep kissing me that badly”, and he doesn't mean for it to come out as disgustingly flirty as it did, but from the corner of his eye he can see his words have Satoru furiously blushing all the way to the tips of his ears, and he wishes he could take a picture of him – he's never seen him that flustered in the little time they've known each other, so that sight is so cute, he wants to remember it for years to come.

“Who says it's not you who's always dying to keep it up?” ah, he wants to take some offense to that, to be hurt about it, but right now, seeing Satoru still bright red all over his face and doing his best to hide it from Suguru, all he can do is force him to shut up by getting up and pushing him to his back so he can kiss him over and over again, until he can't even speak.

Until he can't think straight and perhaps until he sees that this isn't just having some fun for Suguru, and so it shouldn't be like that for him either, he wants to kiss him until both the taste of curses and cigarettes is long gone from his taste buds and instead replaced by the taste of all the candies Satoru gives him in times like this, and by Satoru's own sweetness, the one that hides behind his overly childish behavior and occasional rudeness, one he's seen glimpses of when they're alone and allowed to be themselves.

Would Satoru kiss him back that same way, too? Would he want to mark Suguru and give him something he can't ever forget nor replace? Ah, it hurts to wish for so much, so much he doesn't think he'll get – it hurts that wishing is so sweet amidst even sweeter kisses from an even sweeter boy, it hurts to kiss him but he doesn't want it to ever stop. 

So for now, he does not stop. He takes in as much as he can for as long as he can until they are both breathless and restless and too tired to even change their clothes before they fall asleep in a mess of long limbs thrown over each other, and it's so quiet and calm Suguru sets the anguish aside for a while, he can think about all of it some time later, for now he'll think of Satoru's sweet lips and soft white hair between his fingers, he'll think of Satoru's slightly calloused hands between his own, he'll think of this moment right now with Satoru; him laying down beside him and so vulnerable it should scare him, except it all feels right, it feels like this is his rightful place in the world. He can worry about his naive feelings when they're far apart from each other so he won't have to show the older boy the nasty cuts in his heart from every time they kiss and pretend it was nothing.

Their next mission comes at last, and this time they barely make it out alive and despite doing so, he's not so sure neither him or Satoru are still the same after it. Not meaning something between them and their dynamic has changed, as they still spend the night together when their schedules make it possible, but rather he thinks a part of himself was left behind in those empty, endless halls. And the people clapping for a child's death were the ones that pushed a hand inside his chest and ripped out a piece of him he can't ever get back, it's almost surreal; how a few days prior he was fooling around with Satoru in his room for a change, discussing his new obsession with eating sweets, in the blue eyed boy's own words (he has been addicted to desserts and candy and all things sweet since he met the boy) and tasting those same candies off his lips as he kissed him languidly, slowly and deeply, thinking they had all the time in the world and there should be no rush in exploring all of him and his own sweet kisses, and now being all wounded - both physically and mentally.

The things he's done with his own hands have tainted his psyche, but the things he couldn't do are far worse, they have invaded even his bed at night, they lay down next to him and crowd his space until he's suffocating, they then crawl their way inside his head and his dreams; they paint them in the blackest black, grimy and dirty like the curses he exorcizes and then ingests. Exorcize, ingest, exorcize then ingest, until nothing more remains, again and again. 

The process is not as tortuous as the taste it leaves in his mouth for hours after, and that is something he can't describe with mere words, it is something so utterly revolting, it brings tears to his eyes sometimes. He once described it to Shoko as swallowing a cloth that was used to wipe vomit, but after the mission he thinks such a description falls short to what he's been feeling recently – immensely disgusted with himself and the things he can do, the things he's been praised for doing. The talents he was once shunned for having and later on put on a pedestal for possessing, then he feels he's been exploited in a way that has stripped him away from all humanity bit by bit, for being able to do things others can't, guided to do those things for the very same sickly low people who cherish the death of others like him.

But in the middle of all that there's still a silver lining, enter Satoru. Satoru who goes out of his way to see Suguru every time he comes back from his own missions, checks up on him even through texts when they're not hanging out together, he who notices how uncomfortable Suguru seems to be with loud noises and crowds of people lately and so he allows them to spend their time together in the privacy of the dorms or the quieter spots in the school's campus, far away from whatever ruckus their friends had going on. Satoru practically moves to Suguru's room after all of it, if only to make sure he's resting and getting some sleep, for the dark bags under his eyes have started to give him away.

It is in one of those nights after he started to spend every night with Suguru in his room, that what seems to be s nightmare jolts him awake and leaves him panting and sweating cold, holding onto Satoru with so much force, the pain wakes him up too and he is almost pissed until he cranks his neck a little and sees the state the purple eyed boy is in, and as sweet as only he can be, he chooses that moment to turn around and invite Suguru to rest his head on his chest; caressing long strands of black hair with dainty fingers until his body stops shaking and the tears that were swelling up in his eyes dry up. Satoru then squeezes himself lower to meet Suguru's eyes and pamper him with the softest kisses all over his face, his chin and then his neck; a place he has never kissed before, but this time it is more like a worship of skin rather than his usual fast paced pecks over his cheeks.

The act is so gentle and delicate he can't begin to register how the kiss deepens, until it's more of a suckling motion with a bit of teeth in between, and it's then when he lets out a quiet moan, one that startles Satoru for just a second, and they both look at each other quite dumbfounded for what feels like an eternity to Suguru until the other boy simply smiles at him, not smugly nor brazen as he usually does at the most embarrassing moments for the younger one, but surprisingly lovingly for what seems like the first time and if Suguru wasn't already blushing all the way to his chest he would've combusted right then at such a small gesture. 

“Thought we weren't doing anything weird?” He huffs a laugh after he says that, but the gentleness in his every action isn't remotely gone and despite being very alarmed for the past months of his life in regards to the direction his friendship with Satoru was going, he lets himself feel relaxed and safe at this moment.

Because Satoru is so suddenly aware and kind enough to not ask him about the reason he woke up in such a haste, to not question him on the reasons he's been losing so much sleep and weight as well lately, to not even reprimand him when he caught him smoking in the halls not long ago. Because he's sure the boy has noticed a while back, no words needed, no awkward conversations required, much to other people's surprise, Satoru is incredibly perceptive of his surroundings and those of the people he cares about, even if a lot of the time he's objectively not very good at showing he cares, and even if he tends to be quite blunt and abrasive with his words, there's little that can go unnoticed by him, in more ways than just him having the Six Eyes, he is far more sensible than he lets on. And at this very moment, Suguru feels a huge weight being lifted of his shoulders, for some reason, none of them have said nothing about the things in their relationship and friendship that cause him so much distress from time to time, but that he's been too busy and stressed with everything else to sit down and think about those things, so there is still a lot that causes a heavy pressure on his chest to make him out of breath for a second. Only a second, for Satoru keeps looking at him and waiting for him to say something and he doesn't have it in him to deny either of them of having this - this moment where the weight of the world is nowhere to be found, off their shoulders and he can just be him, Satoru can be just Satoru. A moment where they're not special grade sorcerers, where they don't have to be the strongest duo, they're just Suguru and Satoru.

“Would it be weird if I don't want you to stop?” Suguru asks shyly, much too shyly for how he usually is around the taller boy, which makes them both laugh momentarily.

“It would be weird if you did.”

And with that, Satoru's lips are back on Suguru's tan neck, skin soft as ever, and this time his kisses are wet and mixed with gentle kitten licks that make him shudder and hold on to his best friend's arms for dear life. His inexperience is long gone, it seems,  because the way he starts trailing down Suguru's cleavage with tender bites as he showers him in tantalizing kisses is something he would expect from having done so plenty of times before. And Suguru is suddenly kicked off his cloud of pleasantness and enjoyment, because his thoughts are equally clouded with what he can only call jealousy, jealousy at the idea of Satoru having kissed someone else like this without him knowing, of having done all of the things Suguru's been dying to do with him, with other people, still he doesn't put a stop to any of it, because the thought alone is enough to make him feel stupid. Satoru would never do that to him, right? He would tell him if he's done it already, they always tell each other everything so it's only natural he would've said it and bragged about it.

So in an attempt to keep his mind quiet, he pushes Satoru away carefully and messily turns them both around, now hovering above the taller one's body and comfortably between his legs, surprising him as he's suddenly the one breathless and Suguru offers him no chance to regain the lost air in his lungs when he is now the one who kisses his lips with reckless abandon, unexpectedly hard compared to how gentle and tender he always has been, with his hands following the pace of his mouth as they wander down and over Satoru's light chest, which despite being covered by one of Suguru's sweatshirts, is still quite receptive of his touch and it leaves the older one writhing beneath him – back arching up when deft fingers find their way underneath all the clothing, tracing skin with just the tip of his fingers all over taut and decently defined abs, all the way up to an equally taut and slither chest that was delicately adorned with perky nipples, and that's the instant Suguru chooses to flick over one of those buds with his thumb, experimentally at first, not truly knowing how Satoru would react to that as he's never gone this far with him.

Except his reaction is as unexpected and new as it is arousing and enticing – Satoru has to break away from the frantic biting and licking into each other's mouth that they called kissing, to let out the most melodious sound Suguru has ever heard in his life. He moans, and it's not as obscene as people described these things to be, nor is it vulgar or out of place, it is just both soft and raw all at once, it sounds as desperate as it sounds unrestrained and when Suguru notices he still doesn't open his eyes or flinch away from the touch, he does it again, this time exerting a little more pressure on the hardened bud after slightly pinching it, and what he obtains from Satoru in return has him reeling from satisfaction even if he's not the one being touched and played with, so to speak.

He's about to keep going further and further if Satoru allows him to, until he realizes this is actually the second time they've kissed in a way that he would describe as raw and unabridged, both acting on sheer instinct and forgetting everything else and in doing so, forgetting about the sweet things before kissing. Perhaps it's because of the hour, or maybe just the fact that it happened too suddenly and naturally for any of them to stop and say 'hey, wanna have some candy before I make out with you so lewdly you'll be seeing stars?' So that's not really the problem here, the fact is there is none, he's just lost in everything that's happened in what should be minutes as well as the realization that Satoru is going this far to comfort him, and it shouldn't mean as much as he wants it to mean, and as much as he wishes he could continue once more, his thoughts start to take over until it's all muddy and confusing and it hurts, it hurts when it should be sweet and he's pulled back down to earth and Satoru's body when the boy himself seems to come back from his own haziness at the absence of warm hands on his chest and bitter lips on his own, tugging at Suguru's shoulders harshly, as if complaining for the sudden stop he didn't agree to.

“You okay?” it's what the older one asks, curiously not going straight for the fit Suguru was more than certain he was about to throw, instead still worrying for him given the reason they had even ended up here in the first place.

And looking at Satoru now only makes his blood boil, not with rage or anything of the sort, nothing even remotely violent or aggressive, but rather with affection, with so many things he would've never consider he could possibly feel for him – for the rude guy he had a fight with on his very first day at this school, the one he still constantly argued with over the simplest things, and then the one who would absolutely risk his own life for Suguru, not giving it a second thought, Satoru, the boy he'd give everything to and more, and as much as he tries to not say it, to not tell him how he feels and how he's been feeling for quite some time now, that little voice in the back of his mind has grown a body of its own and that body has claws, ones it scrapes all over his conscience and ones that are trying to rip him apart from the inside in order to escape and let it all be known and shown. To let all of it spill out and overflow the space between him and Satoru, that overwhelming infinity that never once has been used against him but it's been there in a more emotional sense, in the sense that it has created such a distance lately that he isn't sure he can reach him, even if he tried to.

But the attempts to remain quiet are useless, they're futile the more he stares at his best friend, his red lips, watery blue, celestial eyes, the fading crimson of his neck and the heat of his chest where his own fingers are still pressed on, his legs that are still carefully wrapped around Suguru's waist, making it impossible to push him away, not that he wants to do that, anyway. He has to say it, all of it. The weight of all his failures and the repercussions of them in both his and Satoru's lives as sorcerers is nothing when compared to the weight of possibly dying one of these days without letting him know, because he deserves to know.

So Suguru braces himself, taking deep breaths and closing his eyes tightly, not wanting to be looking directly into the infinite blue of Satoru's eyes when he says it fearing it might be too late for him and he'll actually start crying and he opens his mouth so slowly he's sure he looks absolutely ridiculous, but that's fine, none of that matters and it won't matter when he ruins the most precious thing to him in no time.

“I love you,” his voice comes out so, so small, nearly too quiet for Satoru to hear if he weren't beneath his body and so close to him to be able to hear it, and Suguru offers no time to say anything, no openings for Satoru to reject him or make fun of him for thinking this was ever about anything other than just having fun.

Love, what a weird and twisted thing to feel for people like them, too young to be living such pitiful lives.

“I'm sorry if I misread everything- it's fine if you don't feel that way, I guess I just wanted you to know… in case one of us dies,” the crushing weight of those words makes Satoru's own heart implode on itself, it hurts to even consider such things in the first place but not much can be expected from either him or Suguru, having lost so much in their last mission – not sure if he deserves to be alive, if others deserve to be saved by the very thing they despise. 

But what bothers Satoru the most is that he thinks he'll let them die, that he's so sure of it he'll confess to him with such a dire, ominous look on his face, and he's sure to let him know when he replies: “You're so stupid, Suguru.”

That should settle it, perhaps Suguru had too much faith in him to think he would never mock him for loving him but he is proving him and everyone else right for downright calling him stupid in such a vulnerable moment, and never mind being sad about it, Suguru's pissed, fuming and about to beat him to shreds if he weren't still trapped between his legs, his damn long, skinny, fit, pretty legs. And Satoru is always so unpredictable, because nothing could have possibly prepared Suguru for the words he hears next, before he can even tell Satoru to go fuck himself.

“I love you, too. But you're stupid if you think I'm gonna let you die, I'm not gonna die, either. You're stuck with me.”

I am so stupid. Suguru tells himself and there's no denying that now, not after experiencing every circle of hell after kissing this insufferable enough boy who would much rather continue to do the weirdest things with him, in front of all the people who know them and still not tell him how he feels. But how can he judge Satoru for it? He was never doing any better, he is the one who agreed to all of it in the first place, and he was also the one who chose to not say anything about it until Satoru did and clearly, he never did, probably expecting Suguru to make the first move and he played right into his hand.

“You're unbearable. And unbelievable, why do I love you?” Suguru says in an attempt to sound angrier than he actually is, because he really isn't. So they just laugh, and he finally lets up on the tension built on his shoulders in the past five minutes, choosing to instead crush Satoru with his full weight as he also hugs him so tightly he begins to complain about being unable to breathe.

“You love me because I'm amazing at everything that I do and I'm also so terribly handsome, also I'm rich and like, super strong-”

“I might have to be the one who puts an end to your life by suffocating you with my weight if you don't shut up, you know?” the threat is non-existent, and he's not pressing down as hard anymore, for Satoru's hands made their way to his hair and his fingers are now carding through black strands of silky hair, distracting him him from ruining this moment (even if the one who was ruining it all was Satoru himself) and soothing him back into his interrupted sleep, as well.

They stay like that for the rest of their short night, one where Suguru finally, finally, gets some rest after what were easily the most exhausting weeks of his life, both mentally and physically. Although he did not care for the ways his body was sometimes begging him to take a break, he figured blacking out from exhaustion was better than staying awake all night, smoking himself away and reliving vividly in his mind each and every instance where he went wrong, made the wrong move and ultimately lead an innocent girl to her death – but Satoru's arm suddenly wrapping over his hip and his chest pressing against his back is what tells him to stop, to give himself a break from those thoughts and let himself off the hook for once, so he tries, again, he tries his best to enjoy this moment. 

A moment where with so little having been said, it was more than enough, more than he could've ever asked for. Knowing Satoru, words and direct affirmations of his own emotions didn't come easy for him, so all of his gestures were all he needed to reassure himself he had been too oblivious all this time, all those days where Satoru chose to kiss him in front of others, to steal a kiss when their teacher wasn't looking, to get him sweets so they could kiss without the reminder of the nasty world they were born into and without the reminder of their failures as well. Satoru was doing all he knew to make sure Suguru felt cared for, to make sure he felt loved by none other than him, and perhaps he was selfish enough to plunge into the depths of regrets and self deprecation to be able to see it, to be able to feel it. He has a lot of apologizing to do, but not before Satoru apologizes, too, for leaving him in the dark all this time, when a simple “I like you” would have sufficed.

But the moment doesn't seem to last too long, not long enough for him to savor it, to bathe in it and make himself one with it, because weeks later they're informed about the death of one of their juniors, Haibara Yu. That one bubbly boy who admired Suguru greatly and always thought of bringing back souvenirs for both him and Satoru, regardless of how much his classmate, Kento, mocked him for it. And there is not much Suguru can say to that, not more than he can even do about that, so his deep rooted frustrations and despairs only grow more and more, slowly but surely, only finding solace in the little windows of rest he and Satoru get in between missions – solo missions, one of them apparently being so strong his own presence was no longer needed, it would only be a hindrance.

And Suguru feels he's being left behind by Satoru once again, where he was once as bright as the sun and by extension the light that lead his every step, it seems his light had grown too much, so much it casted a shadow far too big for Suguru to move away from it and said shadow follows him everywhere he goes, from the empty halls of the school, to the lonely streets where he exorcizes curses left and right, it makes itself known and it draws a line between him and Satoru – he barely has time to think about what they are, they're definitely not friends, have stopped being just friends not long ago, yet they didn't give their relationship a name, figured they don't need it, as long as they have each other and there's trust between them, that's enough. The more time passes, the more every grown up around them seems to make peace with their friend's death and then continue to send more kids and teens on missions where they might and quite possibly will lose their lives, the more he begins to slip down a river of hatred he was never aware lived in him.

One that he drowns in every night, as most nights he spends alone and there is no Satoru next to him to keep him safe and busy with sweet kisses and rants about his favorite things of the moment, because he's now away almost every day of each month of the year doing missions on his own, no longer needing Suguru's help or presence to cheer him up, it seemed, since Satoru has become the strongest. Long ago, actually, but he thinks perhaps he was deluded by their newfound closeness and intimacy; he didn't notice it immediately, just how they've stopped being the strongest duo, the title belonging to only one of them even if he wasn't aware of it. 

He tries not to let his emotions get in the way of things when Satoru eventually comes back and he also happens to be around for once. The attempts to not let the void and shattered pieces of who he was seep through his skin and show on his face feel almost inhumane, it was almost demoralizing as well; having to paint a facade of normalcy with the one person he thought it would never come to this, with the boy he was always free to be himself with. It's not like he thinks Satoru hates him or will ever hate him if he knew how he feels, if he knew what he thinks of most people in this world and what the unforgiving crushing weight of reality of experiencing loss after loss has done to him, lately he hasn't been sure if he wants to die or to just kill everyone. The thought is eerie enough and it leaves him petrified in front of an understandably confused Satoru, who eyes him up and down from where he's sitting on the edge of his bed – he must've made his way inside Suguru's room without knocking and if he did yell to announce his arrival, the younger boy was surely too deep in the swirling winds of his mind to notice or hear him.

“S’guru? You there?” he gives, softly and yet it startles Suguru for a second, then he tilts his head to the side like a curious puppy and it's a bit cute, he would've found this annoying if he didn't miss the boy so much, that much he knows. “I brought you something.”

Indeed, he offers Suguru a silvery bag, quite small when compared to the bigger ones he often brings him, with souvenirs and sweets, for the purposes they know very well. Yet this one only has a single little box inside, and the box is plain black, painted metal, he notices when he grabs it and it doesn't weight much, and once he opens it he is probably expecting to find some eccentric chocolate cultivated in a far away country and that is also probably worth thousands, he wouldn't expect much from Satoru, because he has no sense of reserve when it comes to spending overwhelming amounts of money on the most mundane things. And he definitely would've never expected Satoru, of all people, to gift him a seemingly expensive and very elegant pack of cigarettes. 

They're very delicate, wrapped in a bone colored paper that even feels expensive to the touch, and they don't even smell bad, on the contrary, the aroma isn't that strong but it's more like mint and something sweet and spicy at the same time, and his surprise must be such that he hasn't noticed the matching black lighter in the bag, with fine engravings of what looks like silver and gold, shaping an equally fine and elegant dragon. He is actually dying to light one up now, but he wouldn't want to disgrace Satoru's own sweet essence of his cologne that smells like the sea itself, and the boy in question seems to pick up his sudden urge to do so, given he smiles at Suguru and then continues to surprise him and make him appalled by his words.

“Light one up for me, too,” the mere idea of Satoru smoking is as hot as it is funny, he can already picture his grimace at the absolutely horrid taste of cigarettes, no matter how expensive, and then the coughing fit for not taking it in properly, so when all he gives him is a lifted thin brow in response, he urges him to do as he asks once again. “Don't make that face, jerk, I wanna know why you like this shit so much.”

That is one slightly valid reason, but only slightly, he still remembers Satoru being very clearly worried about him and his health when he found out he smokes, and to have gone from that to going as far as gifting Suguru some fancy, expensive cigars, then he must be serious.

“Did you bring anything sweet?” and Satoru is both confused by the question as he is touched by it, because he blushes after hearing those words.

“I did, but I ate all of it on my way back here so now we're stuck with these,” he points at the little box still sitting between Suguru's careful fingers. “Why? Don't wanna kiss me if I'm not sweet no more?”

If only he knew. Suguru would kiss him sweet or bitter, salty or sour, he would simply do it even if he was dying, the moon could drop from its orbit and fall right in front of them and he would still kiss him, and then there is no way Satoru could ever be anything other than sweet, so sweet his bones would rot.

“You know that's not it. But wouldn't you like it better if it wasn't bitter?” 

“I'd like it in any way, you're so dumb,” Satoru rolls his eyes in annoyance, perhaps not the real, mean kind, but mostly at Suguru's excuses for not wanting to have a smoke with him. “I like your kisses ‘cause they're yours, they don't have to be sweet.”

“That's a weird way of saying you love me, but I'll take it,” with that, Suguru smiles as he gets up from his bed and motions Satoru to do the same and follow him all the way to the window, not before he pecks his cheek ever so softly, of course. “C’mere, I guess you spent loads on these but they will still stink.”

So he waits for Satoru to take his seat next to him right by the wooden window, both sitting on Suguru's desk for better access and to make the smoke flow out as much as possible, and so they avoid the stink and Yaga’s beating if he ever catches them smoking on school grounds. Once they're both seated, Satoru watches patiently as Suguru opens the box with so much care, as if it's frail and will break at the mere touch of his hands –but that's only because he plans to treasure something like this, a present like this for the longest time he's allowed to do–, and then he takes one slender, white cigarette and places it between his dry and lonely lips, lonely when he's not around to kiss and pamper them, and Satoru stares at him all the way through, licking his own lips at the motion and waiting for Suguru to let him grab one for himself. But he doesn't, and Satoru is left confused by getting his hand literally smacked away, and he almost says something stupid to ruin and the moment and complain, except he's interrupted by Suguru's long and careful fingers placing a cigarette between his lips now, to shut him up before he can even begin to speak or open his mouth.

With great inexperience, though, he tries to keep the little thing in there without crushing it and all but watches Suguru light his cigarette in a quick motion, using the heavy, pricey lighter to do it. He looks so hot, I could punch him, Satoru thinks and has to check around himself to make sure he didn't say it out loud too. Once more, he waits for Suguru to light it up for him just the same, and again, he doesn't, instead reaching closer to Satoru's face, not too much but enough for the tip of their cigarettes to touch and for the flame of his own to set alight the one posing between Satoru's pretty lips.

His inexperience won't leave him alone once he sees Suguru taking in and down inside his lungs a bit of smoke in a way that is both so very hot and with too much finesse, so carelessly and flawlessly, so he tries to do the same, yet once he takes a little more than he should've it burns his throat and makes his eyes water as the smoke goes out through his nose. Suguru just laughs, he fucking laughs, all while he continues his motions and then blows some of the smoke in his damn face.

“I'm dying and you're laughing, you're the worst- person ever!” is all Satoru manages to get out between coughs and ragged breaths.

“You're not dying, number one. Number two, you should take in small amounts at first, I'll show you,” ah, Satoru thinks, potentially dying has never been so good and so hot, because Suguru inches closer to him and grabs the slowly burning cigarette from in between lips that most likely taste of cherry lollipops and strawberry shortcake, and then takes a deep inhale of the one still hanging on his own paler, drier ones, only to use his free hand to place it above Satoru's chin, inviting him to open his mouth the tiniest bit, enough for him to blow the smoke inside it and past his lips, waiting for him to inhale it, too, and once he does, he gently and clumsily lets it back out into Suguru's mouth.

They do it a few more times, until there's nothing left but the burnt filters of their cigars and Satoru still feels his throat on fire and chooses not to have a second one, prefers to watch Suguru go for it and then a third one, just for show. The air outside doesn't blow as rapidly and strongly as during some other nights, so everything is peacefully quiet except for the chirping of the cicadas and the buzzing of fireflies’ flapping wings, it is all reminiscent of a summer night like this one, when they first kissed out of boredom and curiosity, although that was the pretense on Satoru's part – he was indeed curious, a little bit, but he had also been staring at Suguru for longer than usual those days, and then at his lips when he spoke, when he smiled, when he ate, when he fell asleep on the train, and he couldn't help but wonder if kissing him would feel like everything else with him did, warm and cozy, familiar and new all at once, he wondered what his kisses would taste like.

Fast-forward a year or so, the sweetness from those days and the blue of the skies above was suddenly replaced with bitterness and gray clouds, no rain but instead all consuming heat, the heat of rage and then love, hatred and deception, disappointment and disillusionment. Satoru has matched their kisses with the things their days brought, inadvertently and without realizing. He knows Suguru has been struggling with things he can't quite understand, so he brings him something, a bitter thing that he has indulged in for some time now in order to let off some stress and to rid his mouth of the taste of curses. He's noticed, he just hasn't had the time to ask and do something about it, although he wishes he could have the time before it is too late.

Satoru is about to say something when he's met with a small kiss on his lips, almost too shy, barely even lasting a second, so he laughs through his nose at this sudden reserved attitude of Suguru's, so uncharacteristic of him after having done this so many times already. So he takes it upon himself to enclose whatever distance is left between them, and he wastes no time in biting Suguru's lower lip as he silently asks for permission to go in deeper, if he even needs such a thing, and when he gasps and lets his mouth fall open slightly, it's all messy but so, so good. They've never really needed more than just this, more than being so close the air they breathe comes from the other's lungs, so pressed together Satoru's sure their skin could start molding in the shape of the other's body, and he's sure he'll never need more than this, more than Suguru's embrace and Suguru's kisses, however they taste to him, he realizes only now, they just taste of him.

They remain entangled over the wooden desk kissing rather carefully for a while, until their backs hurt and they can't breathe anymore unless they fully stop and take a break – a break that leads to the bed which they lay on and fall asleep on eventually, after catching up with each other's lives when they're not together, something that weighs heavily on both of them, for they've grown so accustomed to doing everything together or at least spending more time in each other's company, and compare that to this past few months, where the longest they've seen the other was when Suguru ran into Satoru at the train station as he made his way to one of his missions and Satoru was just coming back from his own, so whatever time they have to do anything they make the best of, even if it just means sleeping together. And Satoru is so exhausted he doesn't even hear the knocking on the door at what must be 7:12 AM, nor does he hear Suguru talking to Yaga in the halls and then going back inside his room to rummage through his closet and whatever clean clothes he had to make a little bag as quickly as he can, so all he manages to notice in his sleep is the delicate, small kiss Suguru leaves on his forehead before he leaves.

By the time he wakes up he's alone and his head is throbbing because of how much he's slept, probably. His throat is too dry and his eyes are still unfocused when he sees a little note on the nightstand when he goes to reach for his phone to see the time, 3:22 PM, he's been asleep for almost twelve hours non-stop, yet he takes the note and does his best to read it as it appears to be from Suguru, letting him know he's been called on some emergency mission in a small town not too far from the city, he'll be quick and then be back there by tomorrow and if he's still there, they should go to that one cat café Satoru had told him about. It saddens him, of course, not even being allowed to say goodbye to Suguru before he left, and it annoys him just how considerate and sweet he is for not waking him up, because he would've liked to kiss him one more time, still he decides to be a little patient and make himself busy with other things until he comes back, because luckily he's got some days off too, so they should definitely get out of the dorms and go somewhere else, do something different for a change.

That night turns out to be the last one they spent together, as well as the last time they kiss, because not many days after Suguru leaves, Yaga goes looking for Satoru everywhere he can think of until he finds him in one of the halls, lounging around in case Suguru suddenly shows up. He makes sure to walk almost all of the school in its entirety, just so he can be the first to greet him if he's back and hasn't gone to his room. Yet he doesn't, and he seemingly never will again, because what he's met with are news that cut through his heart like a trillion needless puncturing him. 

112 residents of the former village were found dead. Geto Suguru fled. In accordance with article 9 of the Jujutsu Regulations, he is now considered a curse user and subject to execution.

But that sounds like a lie. Because it is a lie, right? The Suguru he's known wouldn't do such a thing, that's what Satoru wants to believe so badly, except all the proof pointed otherwise, he did it.

There's no possible explanation for any of it, not even when he's in front of Suguru in a bustling crowd somewhere in Shinjuku – he doesn't care where they are, he just made sure to get there as fast as he possibly could after getting a phone call from Shoko saying she saw him and talked to him. Not a single word coming from Suguru is making sense, because how can he just easily go ahead and throw it all away? His life, his family, their friendship, everything they have, it'll be gone in seconds, Satoru thinks as he holds his fingers up and at Suguru's back, now facing him in the coldest gesture he's ever seen from him, ready to kill him, if it comes down to it.

And still he hopes it doesn't, he wishes it doesn't, he's begging to all the gods above for things to be different, he's holding back a scream to beg Suguru to please, turn around, and say he didn't mean any of those words he said, as if meaning to say 'please, don't make me kill you'. As if he ever could. It's almost laughable, how everything and everyone else around him passes him by in a blur, he can't see anything or anyone, all he sees is Suguru's shape straying further and further away, out of his reach, so far he wouldn't even hear him if he asked him to not go, but he goes anyway. Satoru lets him go, against his wishes and desires, he stays there, pointing fingers at the trails of him until his arm grows numb and it falls on his side, fist clenching in itself so hard it draws blood, still, none of that hurts - he thinks nothing is going to hurt as much as being left behind by Suguru.

Then nothing hurts more than the bitter taste of his curses and his cigarettes left in his mouth for days, months, and then years. The taste of Suguru won't wash away, and he stops trying when he realizes it probably never will, he just realizes far too late, as he does with these things.

The hurt, however, it fades away with time, it turns into both resentment and regret, one he often amends with something sweet, yet not as sweet as the kisses he never stops missing, although he misses the bitterness, more than all of it. The bitterness comes closer to emulate those bites on his lips and soft touches on his skin, the smell of cigarettes in particular brings something melancholic in him and it's funny; it makes him wonder if Suguru's out there reminiscing just as much as he always is, if he ever thinks of him when presented with the sweeter things of this world, does he ever regret his choices? As much as Satoru regrets his own.

It is almost impossible to stop spending hours on end attempting to figure out where exactly he went wrong – maybe if he had been there more, had been able to listen and say something in return, things would've been at least a little bit different, not this bitter. Perhaps, if he'd noticed earlier, if he had seen the signs and heard Suguru's silent cries at lonely white nights, they could've changed the outcome of it all. Or maybe it would've been all the same, the sweetness of those days was always fated to end bitterly, and so were the sweetness of their kisses. He doesn't want to know, he'd rather not know. Pondering from start to finish is an addictive and lethal indulgence he's been falling into for years now, what might've been sounds good to him, but what might've been doesn't matter anymore.

He can only sink down the feeling left by all those kisses, one he won't forget as much as he wishes he could – he'll always think of Suguru's bittersweet kisses, he'll think of Suguru. Suguru who came close to him only to fly away one day, far, far away. He's fine with letting things be, and he'll be fine just dreaming of him, night after night, always saying how that bittersweet paradise nearly was his.