Archive of Our Own

It’s a tuesday evening and they’re hanging out in Suguru’s dorm like they always do. Satoru’s dorm is pretty nice, he has a PS5 and Red Dead Redemption 2, but unfortunately he also has a roommate, which makes his room less than ideal for hanging out. Not that Suguru has anything against Nanami, he’s just a normal dude, but he seems to hate the very ground Satoru walks on and will occasionally drop scathing remarks when they hang out there, which makes the whole experience rather awkward.

Suguru has a single, so they mostly use his place when they’re going to study or hang out. Today they’ve done pretty well; Suguru is more than halfway through his philosophy assignment, and Satoru has even made annotations in his physics book, which is absolutely insane because Satoru doesn’t even read his course literature for the most part. 

Somewhere around eight o’clock, Satoru’s focus starts dissipating and Suguru can tell immediately, because Satoru’s feet start swinging back and forth with increasing speed as he rhythmically taps his fingers against the spine of the book. Suguru closes his laptop and stretches, wincing a little when he hears his back crack. He really shouldn’t study on the floor with his laptop perched on his crossed legs and his back hunched over. No wonder he has back problems already. 

Satoru is lying on his stomach on Suguru’s bed, resting his chin on his forearms and kicking his legs like a girl. It’s pretty cute and the sight makes something warm bloom in Suguru’s stomach so he hurriedly clears his throat to garner Satoru’s attention. 

“Wanna take a break and play a videogame?” he asks, jerking his thumb in the direction of his TV. Suguru has neither a PS5 nor Red Dead Redemption 2, but he does have Mario Kart and Mario Party, which is good enough in his opinion. 

As expected, Satoru slams the book close the moment Suguru gives him an excuse to do so. 

“Hell yeah” Satoru says, grinning in a way that makes his eyes crinkle in the corners. Suguru tries not to take note of it too much. He absolutely does not think about the way Satoru’s blue eyes sparkle because Suguru may be gay but he’s not that gay. 

They play a couple of races. Suguru wins the first two but then Satoru fucks him over massively with a blue shell and wins the last one by a mile. Suguru grits his teeth and tries not to show how badly it pisses him off; he always makes fun of Satoru for being childishly competitive and he’s not about to prove that he’s just as bad himself. 

Suguru ends up winning the cup and tries his best not to gloat.

“Wanna play another round?” he asks, turning to look at Satoru who shakes his head. 

“Nah I’m good” Satoru says, putting away the controller before stretching. His shirt rides up a little as he raises his arms and Suguru’s eyes flick down to the sliver of pale skin that’s exposed. Suguru can see a faint happy trail, as white as Satoru’s hair, dipping into the waistline of Satoru’s jeans. He swallows and averts his gaze, stubbornly staring at the Mario Kart menu, pretending that he’s very interested in moo moo meadows. 

“What do you wanna do then?” he asks. It’s getting late and they should probably start thinking about what to eat for dinner but he’s honestly not super hungry after all the snacks they wolfed down during their study session. They could keep studying, but they got a lot done for once, and Suguru isn’t in the mood to think more about Nietzsche today. 

In the corner of his eyes, Suguru sees Satoru turn his head to look at him with an unreadable gaze. 

“Wanna watch porn together?” he suggests, so casually that Suguru thinks he’s misheard him. It takes him a couple of seconds before the words sink in and his thoughts come to a screeching halt. He whips his head around to stare at Satoru. 

“What?” he asks, shocked. Satoru only shrugs, like he’s proposed they play another round of Mario Kart. 

“Guys watch porn together all the time, don’t they?” he says, sending Suguru’s mind into a frenzy. 

“No they don’t” he says, trying to be subtle as he wipes his sweaty palms against his jeans. “I don’t at least. Do you?”

Satoru shrugs again, and Suguru wonders how he’s so casual about the whole thing. Is this a straight thing? Do straight guys really watch porn together? Is this just another normal Tuesday for Satoru? But he knows that Suguru is gay, he knows that it’s different. Or is Satoru just so much of an ally that he doesn’t think it’s any different from watching porn with one of his straight buddies? Suguru feels his chest tightening, panic spreading through his body. 

“Not really” Satoru says vaguely, waving his hand like it’s no big deal, like he’s not worried at all that Suguru will get the wrong idea. “But we don’t have to”

Suguru swallows, trying to dissolve the heavy lump in his throat. He feels hot all over, and so goddamn uncomfortable. 

“I don’t think we have the same, uh, taste in porn” he says, praying that Satoru will buy his flimsy excuse. Satoru hums in understanding, seemingly not picking up on the nervously strained falsetto in Suguru’s voice. 

“Probably not” he agrees and Suguru shouldn’t be disappointed because he already knows that Satoru is straight, but any reminder still stabs him like a tiny needle in his side. They sit in silence for a while and Suguru has just started calming down when Satoru pipes up again. 

“What’s it like to suck dick?” he asks and Suguru chokes on air. He’s sweating profusely now, anxiety rolling in his stomach. Where the hell did that come from? Why is Satoru asking him about this? Doesn’t he know that it might give off the wrong impression? 

“Oh, I don’t know” Suguru says, his voice weak and Satoru raises an eyebrow. 

“What, never done it?” he asks with a grin, punching Suguru’s shoulder in a painfully bro-like way. Suguru rubs his shoulder and tries to regain control of his breathing. 

“Of course I have” he can’t help but defend himself, because he’s not a virgin, thank you very much. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but he isn’t one. “I just… you’re straight. You really wanna know?”

He dares to look at Satoru properly and immediately wishes that he hadn’t. Satoru is sitting next to him, his legs crossed and his gaze heavy. His white hair is a little tousled and he looks weirdly focused, like he’s genuinely curious. He nods and Suguru swallows again.

“It’s, uh, nice” Suguru says like an idiot. “I don’t know, it’s kind of hard to describe. It’s hot. I like it a lot”

Satoru frowns, and Suguru wonders if he’s grossed out. Of course a straight guy wouldn’t like thinking about having a dick in his mouth, but to be fair, he was the one who asked Suguru about it. 

“Is it hard?” he asks, still staring at Suguru with a heavy gaze. The small room feels impossibly hot and small and Suguru is acutely aware of how close they’re sitting, their knees almost knocking into each other. 

“I don’t think so” Suguru says, deliberately not looking at Satoru’s soft, pink mouth. “But it depends on the… the size”

He feels so awkward, every word painful to utter, and he wants to shut this conversation down before he starts imagining Satoru getting a blowjob, or even worse, Satoru giving a blowjob. As stiff as he feels, his cock has started taking an interest in the topic at hand and his loose sweatpants will do little to hide anything if he pops a boner. 

Satoru nods, still oblivious to Suguru’s inner turmoil. Suguru frantically racks his brain for new topics but comes up with nothing. His mind is completely blank. 

Satoru shifts, their thighs pressing up against each other. Satoru is warm and soft, even through the fabric of their pants and Suguru has to breathe through his nose to calm down. The air feels electrified and Suguru reminds himself that it’s just friendly curiosity, allyship, when Satoru’s eyes flick down to his crotch. 

“You’re hard” Satoru points out and Suguru wants to go die in a hole. Fuck his life and fuck all decisions that led him to this point. 

“Sorry” he offers weakly, wondering if he can explain this in a platonic way or if their friendship is irrevocably fucked. “You know how it is”

Suguru screams internally because what the hell does that even mean? He’s sure that Satoru, in fact, does not know how it is to get hard when discussing blowjobs with his best friend. Satoru is straight for god’s sake. 

Before Suguru can stop himself, he glances down. It’s just for a moment, but Satoru is wearing sweatpants like him, and while he’s not fully hard there’s an undeniable tent at the front. Suguru looks away, his cheeks burning when he feels himself grow harder. He feels like such a goddamn creep, getting turned when his friend is right next to him. 

“Want me to suck you off?”

It feels a little like Suguru’s brain explodes, mushy brain matter splattering the inside of his skull as he stares at Satoru, his mouth open in shock. Warning sirens blare inside his head, screaming at him to say no, absolutely not, bad idea, but he barely hears it. Satoru’s words seem to echo around the room, growing louder and louder until Suguru can’t think straight. 

“You… what?” is all he can muster, his voice cracking in an embarrassing way. 

He expects Satoru to backtrack, laugh it off as a joke before making fun of him for taking it seriously, but Satoru shifts again, leaning closer until Suguru can smell his cologne. It makes him dizzy. 

“You’re hard” Satoru says again, his voice soft. He reaches out to tuck a strand of hair behind Suguru’s ear. His finger trails over the shell of Suguru’s ear, playing with his piercing before moving down to touch Suguru’s gauges. A full-bodied shudder racks Suguru’s body, his rational thoughts muddling as arousal swirls in his stomach. “I could suck you off if you want to”
And Suguru should say no, he really should, because Satoru is his best friend, and he’s probably not gay. Sexuality is fluid, and a lot of guys experiment in college, but Suguru has no desire to be Satoru’s little experiment. It would ruin their friendship, and while Satoru might walk away unscathed, Suguru would be absolutely crushed if Satoru realises that he’s straight after all. He’s tried to suppress his hopes for such a long time, if he gets the wrong impression now it’s going to ruin him. 

All of these thoughts run through Suguru’s head but his body moves automatically, nodding in agreement before he can stop himself. It’s like he’s no longer in control of himself, raising his hips instead of pushing Satoru away when Satoru reaches for his sweatpants. 

Satoru pulls down his pants and underwear in one move, freeing his erection like it’s nothing. When he lays his eyes on Suguru’s hard length, on the leaking tip and the nest of dark curls, he pauses for a moment and Suguru’s heart squeezes painfully because of course Satoru would change his mind when he actually saw his dick. Disappointment settles like a rock in his stomach and he opens his mouth to say that it’s okay, he doesn’t have to, when Satoru looks up. 

“Wow, you’re big” he says, peeking up through thick, white lashes. Suguru can barely breathe, opening and closing his mouth like a fish on dry land as Satoru crawls to his hands and knees, settling between Suguru’s legs like he does this everyday. 

Satoru’s hand is gentle as he touches Suguru’s cock, pumping it experimentally a few times. Suguru hisses, trying to mentally prepare himself because it looks like Satoru is planning to go through with it and he has no idea how to handle that. 

Satoru leans down, and a hot puff of air is all the warning Suguru gets before his lips close around the head of Suguru’s dick. Suguru jolts, his hands flying to grip Satoru’s hair in a feeble attempt to ground himself. Satoru’s mouth is warm and wet and it takes all of Suguru’s willpower not to thrust into the soft heat. 

“Fuck” he hisses and Satoru hums, sinking down another inch.
Satoru is an amateur; he’s sloppy, unable to build a proper rhythm, and sometimes his teeth graze Suguru’s flesh. He bobs his head up and down, occasionally choking, and the noises of his wet coughing drive Suguru absolutely insane. He has absolutely no technique, pulling off to lap at Suguru’s head right when it’s getting good, and Suguru is more turned on than he’s ever been in his entire life. 

He doesn’t know if it’s the enthusiasm or simply because it’s Satoru but Suguru couldn’t care less that it’s bad, he’s approaching his peak after only a couple of minutes. He takes a deep breath, staring up at the ceiling as he recites the differences between existentialism and absurdism in his head. If he looks down and sees the tears rolling down Satoru’s cheeks, or the spit smeared across his cheeks, or the way his pink lips stretch around Suguru’s girth, he’s going to come and he can’t let Satoru believe he’s a one-minute man. Everything between them is a competition after all. 

Suguru screws his eyes shut, trying to block out the wet, slurping sounds, the way Satoru’s throat constricts around his dick when he takes him in just a bit too deep. It’s messy and sloppy and absolutely incredible.

He cracks an eye open to look down and sees that Satoru has a hand down his pants, palming himself with frenzied movements. Heat ripples through Suguru’s stomach and his orgasm rips through his body because Satoru is jerking off as he sucks his dick and it’s the hottest thing he’s seen in his life. He comes with a cry, forgetting to warn Satoru who chokes and pulls off, covering his mouth with his free hand. Suguru is about to say sorry, you can spit it out on the floor, when Satoru swallows. Suguru’s mind is wiped clean and he can only stare as Satoru takes a deep breath, leaning his forehead against Suguru’s chest as he chases his own orgasm. 

It only takes a couple of seconds before Satoru stiffens against him, gasping quietly as he releases in his pants. He slumps against Suguru, wiping his sticky hand on Suguru’s sweatpants. It’s gross, and Suguru would say something if not for the situation at hand. 

His head is clearing and it’s starting to hit him exactly what they just did. 

Satoru sucked his dick until he came down his throat. Satoru swallowed his cum. Satoru jerked off and came in his pants. 

Something coils around Suguru’s throat and he can’t breathe, panic washing over him in waves. What has he done? How could he agree to this? Satoru might think this is normal behaviour between straight guys, or maybe he’s confused about his sexuality, and Suguru took advantage of that. He took advantage of his best friend. Jesus Christ, he’s an awful friend. 

Satoru leans back, not taking any notice of Suguru’s ashen expression, and licks his lips. 

“So that’s what it tastes like” he says conversationally, like he hasn’t just blown his friend. Suguru laughs and it sounds strained and panicked even to his own ears. He realises that his dick is still out and hurries to tuck it in. 

Satoru looks expectantly at him and Suguru can feel his fight or flight instincts kick in. Whatever happens, he does not want to talk about what just happened. He wants to forget it and never think about it again, except perhaps in the privacy of his bedroom, with his hand down his own pants. 

“I just recalled” Suguru says, stumbling over his words, “that I have, uh, a thing”

Satoru raises a confused eyebrow. 

“A thing?” he asks and Suguru nods frantically. 

“Yeah” he says, fighting to keep from hyperventilating. “A… a thing. Sorry I’m going to have to… kick you out now”
It’s a crappy excuse, and Suguru is sure he’s not imagining the disappointed look that flits across Satoru’s face. He feels a little guilty about kicking him out, but what’s he supposed to do? Satoru will want to eat dinner, maybe watch an episode or two of Below Deck and Suguru can’t do that right now. He just can’t pretend like everything is normal tonight, not when he’s seen what expression Satoru makes when he comes. 

“Okay” Satoru says, sounding a little sullen as he gets up from the floor to gather his things. Suguru is silent when Satour gets ready. He wants to say something, wants to break the awkward tension, but he can’t think of anything. Satoru hesitates before he leaves, like he wants to say something, but in the end he just smiles and says ‘see you tomorrow’.

Suguru nods, not trusting his voice to carry words right now. 

Satoru disappears out the door, leaving Suguru alone with his panic. 

One year ago

They meet when they’re paired together for a group project in Introduction to English. Suguru takes one look at Satoru’s pretty blue eyes and designer clothes and curses his luck, because Satoru looks like a rich kid who has spent his entire life riding on the coattails of others. When he suggests going to the library to study, he half expects Satoru to turn him down, and is surprised when he agrees. 

“Sure” Satoru says with a wide smile that makes his eyes sparkle like he’s the male lead of a shoujo manga and Suguru thinks that maybe being paired with Satoru isn’t such a bad thing.

He’s half correct. 

While Satoru turns out to be way smarter than Suguru initially assumed, his work ethic and attention span are close to non-existent. Only around a third of their conversations are about their research project, the remaining two thirds consisting of stupid questions from Satoru (“So, how did you fit those plugs into your ears? Did you use a really big hole puncher?”) and Suguru responding with varying levels of contempt (“Of course not you idiot”). It kind of drives Suguru up the walls the first couple of days, but after a while he gets used to it and even starts to sort of look forward to their little study sessions, not that he’d ever admit it. 

“Gross” Suguru says when Satoru shows up with a strawberry frappuccino with chocolate chips and whipped cream, even though he secretly thinks it’s kind of cute that he doesn’t drink coffee. 

“This is a library” Suguru reminds Satoru when he decides to test if he can find the perfect angle to balance his chair on its back legs, but when Satoru crashes to the floor in a mess of flailing arms and legs, Suguru laughs so hard he can’t breathe. 

“Stop messing around” Suguru says when Satoru abandons his research to braid Suguru’s hair, but he stays perfectly still and wordlessly hands Satoru a hair tie. He keeps the braid until the next morning when he regretfully has to pull it out because it’s so messed up from sleep that he can’t keep it for another day. 

When the research project is over (they get the highest score and Suguru would be lying if he claimed it was only thanks to him) Suguru finds himself surprisingly sad that he no longer has an excuse to study with Satoru. And when Satoru texts him only two days later to ask if he wants to get lunch, the message so riddled with ridiculous emojis that it’s borderline unreadable, Suguru realises with a sinking feeling that the warmth spreading in his gut is not the platonic kind. 

In Suguru’s defense, Satoru is smart, funny and devastatingly handsome. He has the social etiquette of a five-year old, or maybe something really big and unintelligent, like an ostrich, but somewhere along the line, Suguru has grown to find that charming, much to his own horror. He brings out a side of Suguru that Suguru himself didn’t know he had, a childish side that wants to pull on Satoru’s pigtails, and one afternoon after a particularly vicious round of Mario Party, when Satoru is screaming that he would have won if not for the bonus stars at the end, Suguru discovers that the ‘like’ he feels for Satoru has long since grown out of control.

The setting sun is warm and Satoru is wearing a loose tank top that shows off his muscular arms and Suguru wants to cry as he realises that he has sort of maybe always been just a little bit in love with Satoru. 

Present

The day after “the incident”, as Suguru has taken to calling it, Suguru stays at home to avoid having lunch with Satoru. It’s childish, but he doesn’t know if he can deal with Satoru right now. With Satoru’s emotional intelligence, it’s likely that he won’t feel the need to talk about what happened between them, but Suguru with how raw and uncertain Suguru feels about it, it’s not a risk he’s willing to take. Sooner or later he’ll have to face Satoru, but he’d prefer if he can avoid him for a couple of days, until Satoru maybe forgets about the whole thing. 

It’s a stupid idea, Suguru knows that he’ll never forget the way Satoru looked up at him through wet eyelashes while his lips stretched around Suguru’s cock, but hope is the last thing that dies in man.

He jerks off twice, thinking about Satoru both times, and guilt prickles his skin like a million tiny ants. 

His plan to avoid Satoru holds up for three whole days, and when Saturday rolls around there’s a persistent rapping against Suguru’s door, and Suguru immediately knows that it can only be one person. Anxiety rolls in his stomach as he answers the door, but Satoru greets him with a smile and a bag of chips, declaring that it’s time for their weekly movie night. 

Suguru forces a smile and lets Satoru inside, trying to act normal and like they didn’t hook up three days ago. 

They pull the blankets and pillows off the bed like they always do, making a little nest on the floor in front of the TV. Satoru opens the bag of chips while Suguru gets the soda and when they quarrel about which movie to watch, things almost feel okay. No one mentions the incident, and Suguru doesn’t feel the need to bring it up. 

After a long discussion they finally settle on the extended cut of The Fellowship of the Ring, and while Suguru still feels a little uncomfortable, he has started relaxing a bit. They fall into silence as the movie’s sweeping score fills the room and Suguru turns off the lights before sitting down to watch the movie. 

It’s a good movie, one that Suguru has watched many times, but his focus keeps straying. Out of the corners of his eyes he sees Satoru’s gaze flickering over to him, lingering a little each time before turning back to the screen. It makes his skin tingle, his heart rate speeding up with each stolen glance. Does Satoru think he won’t notice in the darkness?

Or does he want Suguru to notice?

There’s static in the air, like something’s about to happen and both of them are just waiting for the other to make the first move. The earlier normalcy is slowly dissipating, and when Satoru grabs a handful of chips he leans forward just a bit too much, his body shifting closer to Suguru. When he leans back again, his thigh is pressing up against Suguru’s and Suguru swallows because he’d be an idiot not to read Satoru’s intentions. 

Satoru pretends to watch the movie for a couple of minutes before looking over again and this time Suguru turns to meet his gaze. His heart is jackhammering in his chest because Satoru doesn’t look away, he keeps steady eye contact with Suguru. The movie is still playing but Suguru doesn’t register what’s going on, he doesn’t even hear the dialogue, he only hears the steady thumping of his heart. 

“What are you looking at?” he finally whispers, embarrassed by how hoarse his voice is. 

“You” Satoru admits, and Suguru laughs breathlessly. Leave it to Satoru to be painfully oblivious and honest, even at a time like this. 

“What about me?” Suguru asks, shifting a little closer. He feels a spike of pride when he hears Satoru’s breath hitching. 

“I’m…” Satoru begins before changing his mind. “I want to touch you”

Suguru wishes he had any kind of self-control, that he’d be smarter the second time, but he once again finds himself on auto-pilot, hearing the words that tumble out of his mouth like he’s listening to someone else. 

“How?” he asks, with bravery he didn’t know he possessed. 

Satoru swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing, before wordlessly placing his hand on Suguru’s crotch. 

“Here” he whispers. It’s the last chance to back out now, the last chance to do what’s right and say no, but Suguru nods like an idiot, giving Satoru the go ahead. 

Satoru gently rubs him through his sweatpants, squeezing and palming the bulge that grows hard embarrassingly fast. Suguru hesitates a little before reaching over, cupping Satoru’s erection and he lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding when he finds that Satoru is hard too. Satoru hisses at the contact and ruts against Suguru’s hand and it’s so hot that Suguru can’t breathe. 

Satoru is better with his hands than he was with his mouth but the friction is weak through layers of cotton and Suguru quickly grows impatient. Throwing all caution out the wind, he knocks Satoru’s hand away before pulling his pants down and kicking them into the corner of the room. Satoru mirrors his movements and whatever lucidity Suguru was grasping for is blown away by the sight of his tenting boxers and the wet stain on the front. 

I did that, he thinks to himself before grabbing Satoru’s hips and pulling him into his lap. His grip is probably a bit too hard because Satoru whines, high and needy, and Suguru knows he’ll do whatever it takes to hear that sound again.

The fabric of Suguru’s boxers is thin and worn, and when he thrusts against Satoru he can’t help but groan in pleasure. Satoru locks his arms around Suguru, gasping into his shoulder as their cocks slide together. 

“Fuck Suguru” he mumbles before mouthing at Suguru’s skin and Suguru’s cock jumps at the sound of his name being uttered so breathlessly. 

“Does it feel good?” Suguru mumbles, grabbing Satoru’s ass to guide his movements, and maybe squeeze the soft flesh a little bit. Satoru whimpers and Suguru thanks the heavens that he never knew Satoru could make noises like that because if he did, he would have jumped him long ago. 

“Yeah” Satoru breathes, rutting frantically against Suguru. 

His lips brush against Suguru’s neck, occasionally kissing or sucking at the skin, and Suguru wants nothing but to twist his head and capture those lips in a bruising kiss. He grits his teeth and holds himself back because a kiss feels out of line. That would be romantic, and actually gay, gay in the way Suguru is, head over heels in love with his best friend. Whatever it is they’re doing right now, it’s not gay, at least not like that. They can still wake up tomorrow and pretend like they’re just bros helping each other out, but if Suguru kisses Satoru, that illusion will break and Suguru will have to come clean about his feelings. 

Suguru tries to bury any urge to kiss Satoru and leans back a little instead, pulling down Satoru’s boxers. His dick springs out and slaps wetly against his stomach, leaving a shiny spot. Suguru’s hands tremble with anticipation and desire as he spits into his palm before wrapping his hand around Satoru’s dick. Satoru jolts like he’s been electrocuted and Suguru smirks at the moan that’s ripped from his mouth. 

“Fuck” he cries, his vocabulary notably limited. “A little harder, please Suguru, fuck”

Suguru does as he’s told, tightening his grip and Satoru sobs. 

“Fuck” he says again and Suguru chuckles. 

“Is that the only word you know?” he whispers in Satoru’s ear. Against better judgement, he takes Satoru’s lobe into his mouth, sucking gently. Satoru’s dick jumps in his hand. 

“Yes” Satoru babbles, “I mean no, shit, Suguru. Y-you too”
It’s hard to follow what Satoru means, but when he feels Satoru tug at his boxers, he understands. Satoru’s touch is heavenly, a bit harder than Suguru usually does it but so damn good. Suguru curses before batting Satoru’s hand away. 

“Suguru, please let me-”
“Shut up” Suguru mumbles before bringing their cocks together, closing his hand around them both. Satoru is now moaning so loudly that the whole dorm will hear but Suguru can’t find it in himself to care, drowning in the sounds and the feeling of Satoru’s hot erection against him. 

Satoru is writhing in his lap and Suguru sneaks an arm around his waist to keep him still as he jerks them off. Suguru wants to close his eyes as the pleasure mounts but he forces them open, knowing that if he misses a single second he will regret it for the rest of his life. Satoru’s eyes are half-lidded, his mouth open as he pants, his pink lips wet with spit and Suguru tries to memorise it all, knowing that with these memories he’ll never watch porn again. 

“Suguru, ‘m close” Satoru moans, thrusting into Suguru’s grip. 

“Me too” Suguru whispers. 

With a cry, Satoru comes and Suguru follows shortly after, splattering white on Satoru’s stomach. They remain on the floor for a couple of seconds, catching their breaths, before Satoru stands up on wobbly knees. His dick is still hard, swinging heavily between his legs, and Suguru dazedly wonders if he should be courteous and look away or if they’re past that point. 

“I’ll get a towel” Satoru rasps and Suguru nods wordlessly. 

Satoru exits the room and as Suguru hears the water start running in the bathroom, reality comes crashing back down again. He buries his face in his hands, groaning quietly to himself. How could he be so careless? How could he let it happen again?

The first time could be blamed on impulse, but now it’s clear that Satoru is experimenting. Which is fine, if he’s bicurious then Suguru will support him every step on his journey of self-discovery. But he does not want to be the person Satoru experiments on. Still, he let it happen again, because as awful as he feels, cold and alone with Satoru’s cum on his stomach, the selfish part of him couldn’t say no. Not when Satoru approached him like that, offering himself to Suguru in that way. 

Satoru returns, with his boxers on this time and a wet towel in his hand. He crouches down and reaches out to wipe Suguru down but Suguru grabs the towel. He won’t let Satoru clean him, that would be too intimate. It’ll give him the wrong impression. 

After wiping the cum away, Suguru tucks himself in and tosses the towel in his laundry basket. 

“That was good” Satoru says before grabbing a chip, unaware of Suguru’s inner turmoil. “Next time, do you wanna fuck me?”

Suguru is so caught up on the words ‘next time’ that it takes a couple of seconds before he registers the rest of the sentence. He spins around, his eyes wide in shock. Satoru is sitting cross-legged on the floor, chewing happily as he smiles at Suguru. He looks happy and soft, and he’s so beautiful that Suguru’s heart aches. This is the Satoru that Suguru wants, the Satoru he can never have because Satoru is just using him to experiment. 

Suguru swallows and closes his eyes, wiping his mind clean from mental images of Satoru on his back, Satoru on all fours, Satoru being fingered open… 

Suguru isn’t strong enough to say no to that. He has to put a stop to this now.

“There won’t be a next time” he says and the words come out harsher than he intended. 

Satoru’s happy expression washes away and is replaced by confusion and hurt. It breaks Suguru’s heart a little but he forces himself to remain steadfast.

“Why?” Satoru asks, his voice small and filled with uncertainty. “Did you… did you not like it?”

Suguru almost wants to take back everything he says and embrace Satoru. 

“That’s not it” he says, forcing his voice not to waver. “But Satoru, we can’t do this. We’re best friends, and this is not what best friends do with each other”

Satoru frowns, and Suguru starts to panic because his eyes are starting to look glossy and he absolutely can’t handle Satoru crying, not right now. 

“But I thought…” he starts and Suguru’s patience snaps because if Satoru says another word, Suguru’s going to fall to his knees and kiss him. 

“Well you thought wrong” he spits, hating the way Satoru jerks, hating the way Satoru looks at him, hating the way he’s taking his anger out on his best friend. “And I’m not going to be your little gay experiment”
Satoru looks like he’s been slapped. The silence that lowers itself over them is deafening, and Suguru watches in horror as tears roll down Satoru’s cheeks. He went too far, and there’s no going back now. 

“So that’s how you feel about me” Satoru finally says, his voice bitter. He stands up and pulls his pants on and Suguru snaps out of his daze, struck by a sudden fear that if Satoru leaves now, they’ll never see each other again. 

“Satoru, I-”

What is he supposed to say? ‘Sorry I yelled at you but I’ve been in love with you for a year and I can’t stand being just a casual hook-up’? 

“Forget it” Satoru snaps, wrestling his shirt on before grabbing his bag. He storms out of the room and slams the door closed with a bang that echoes through the apartment. 

Suguru remains where he’s standing, wondering how things got so fucked up. 

After a long time, he finally starts crying. 

Eight months ago

“What do you think of my new lock screen?”
Satoru waves his phone in front of Suguru’s face. The lock screen in question displays a beautiful woman with chocolate brown hair. Suguru raises his eyebrow and keeps eating his ramen. 

“Cool, I guess” he says, unsure of what else to say. “Is it your girlfriend or something?”
The words make his stomach churn uneasily but Suguru refuses to think about that right now. Satoru only rolls his eyes like Suguru has said something exceptionally stupid. 

“No dumbass” he says and Suguru tries to pretend like relief doesn’t flood his system. “She’s a model. You don’t know her?”
Suguru shakes his head, because he doesn’t. He’s not particularly interested in models, or women for that matter. At least not sexually, he’s very interested in them as friends and humans who deserve equal rights. 

“What, are you gay or something?” Satoru snickers and Suguru raises his other eyebrow. 

“Yeah” he says. It’s not a secret, and with his painted nails and eyeliner he can’t tell if Satoru’s being serious or joking, because most people just assume he is, which is totally a stereotype but unfortunately not incorrect. 

He gets his answer when Satoru’s mouth drops open in shock and horror. So Satoru hadn’t assumed, and it was a joke. Suguru guesses that he should be happy Satoru doesn’t judge people based on stereotypes. 

“Shit” Satoru says and Suguru can’t help but laugh at the face he makes. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know, oh god that was totally homophobic of me, wasn’t it?”

He’s rambling and his panic is so genuine that Suguru smiles and waves his hand. 

“It’s fine” he says. “I mean, it was kind of shitty of you, but I forgive you”

Satoru stares down into the table. 

“I’m sorry” he says earnestly. “It came out wrong, and weird. I promise I’m a total ally. My nephew is gay”

Suguru laughs and Satoru groans, burying his face in his hand. 

“Fuck” he mutters, his voice muffled. “I just made it worse, didn’t I?”

“You kind of did” Suguru chuckles before reaching over to ruffle his hair. “But it’s okay. You can make it up to me by watching The Rocky Horror Picture Show with me tomorrow”

Satoru tears his hands away from his face and nods enthusiastically. 

“I will” he says and salutes. “I don’t know what that is but I’ll do whatever it takes for you to forgive me”
True to his word, Suguru does force him to watch The Rocky Horror Picture Show the following day, and Satoru actually ends up appreciating it more than most straight guys would. He laughs when Meat Loaf appears, hums along to Time Warp and Suguru even thinks he sees him shed a tear at the end of the movie, though Satoru vehemently denies it. When the credits roll Satoru comments that Tim Curry was kind of hot as Frank-N-Furter, and Suguru hurriedly squashes the spark of hope that ignites in his chest because while Satoru is an ally, he’s straight and Suguru should know better than to take his words seriously. 

The next Saturday, Satoru comes over, demanding that they watch one of his movies. And thus, their weekly movie tradition is born. It’s a nice tradition. They’ve got a good thing going and Suguru hopes that it will last forever. 

He knows it will, if he can only manage to keep his hands and eyes to himself. Rule number one of being queer is to never, ever fall for your straight friends, and after 23 years of being good, Suguru has finally broken it. 

It’s fine. It’ll pass. As long as he doesn’t mess up, it’ll be fine.

Present

When Suguru wakes up, his head is pounding and he feels almost hungover from crying. Since it’s Sunday, he stays in bed all day, wallowing in his misery. He wants to go back to sleep and escape the world for just a few more hours but every time he closes his eyes his brain replays scenes from last night so he gives up on that idea. 

He lies in bed until noon when his growling stomach reminds him that he hasn’t eaten breakfast. Wrapped in his blankets like a sad burrito, he waddles to the kitchen to prepare some instant noodles. The taste reminds him of all the times he’s had instant noodles for lunch with Satoru and a wave of fresh tears rolls down his cheeks when he realises that he may never experience that again. There’s so much sadness stuck in his throat and nose that the ramen loses all flavour and that somehow makes him even sadder, that he’s sitting here and eating ramen without tasting it while his life crumbles. 

Suguru puts the bowl in the sink without bothering to wash it and walks back to his room. He makes a playlist with all of Plastic Tree’s most depressing songs and plays it on loop for two hours before his neighbour bangs on their shared wall, screaming at him to turn it off. Suguru disappears under the blankets and doesn’t listen. 

It’s dark and warm in there, and if he tries really hard he can almost pretend like nothing’s happened, like everything is still good between him and Satoru. 

His phone buzzes throughout the day and when he takes a look he sees that he has eleven missed notifications from Satoru. 

He doesn’t open any of them.

Six months ago

“Come on Suguru, it will be fun!”

Suguru purses his lips in what he hopes is an expression that communicates complete and utter displeasure. 

“I’m not so sure about that” he says, but he doesn’t resist when Satoru grabs his arm and pulls him to the register. 

“Two tickets for Human Earthworm 3!” Satoru says excitedly. “And one large popcorn, and two sodas”

Suguru sighs as Satoru taps his card to pay. 

“Why can’t we see something normal?” he asks, exasperated. “There’s a new Scream movie out if you really wanna see a horror flick”

Satoru shakes his head and hands their drinks to Suguru. 

“Nope” he says, popping the p. “Has to be Human Earthworm 3. I’ve heard it’s really good!”

“A movie with that name can’t be good” Suguru murmurs under his breath but he follows Satoru, who’s already started snacking on their popcorn, into the theatre. “Did you at least get salted ones?”

“Caramel” Satoru admits with a grin as they sit down and Suguru flicks his forehead. 

“You know I don’t like those” he says sourly and Satoru sticks his tongue out. 

“Get your own popcorn then” he says childishly and Suguru considers it before he realises something vital: if he gets his own popcorn, there’s no chance for their hands to brush as they reach for the snacks at the same time. He’s thankful for the dark theatre as he blushes furiously at his own thoughts. 

“It’s fine” he mutters and Satoru gives him an odd look before turning to look at the screen where the commercials are starting. As always, they make a game out of guessing which company the commercial is from before it’s announced. Satoru shouts his answers way too loudly and they get a couple of annoyed looks from the people around them. Suguru doesn’t pay them any mind, not caring about anything but them in their little bubble. 

And if their hands brush a total of four times during the movie, well, it’s not like Suguru’s counting or anything.

Present

Suguru skips all of his classes both monday and tuesday. He has a mandatory seminar on Wednesday but he emails his professor, claiming he’s got the flu, and writes the compensational essay instead. In the afternoon he’s forced to drag himself to the corner store because his refrigerator is empty, and as depressed as he feels, he’s not about to starve himself. 

The ache in his chest has started easing up a little, but it’s been replaced with a gnawing longing instead, and that’s almost worse than the raw pain. He’s used to seeing Satoru almost everyday, and being apart from him, especially on such bad terms, is horrible. Every bone in his body seems to be calling out for Satoru and even his moodiest emo playlists don’t make things better. It feels like he’s an angsty teenager again, lying face down on his bed as he listens to Kurt Cobain’s home recording of And I Love Her. 

It’s Wednesday evening, and Suguru’s halfway through a tub of ice cream and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind when his phone rings. He ignores it the first time, and the second time, but by the third call he picks his phone up and answers. 

“Who is it?” he mutters.

“Have I reached Getou Suguru?” a voice asks on the other line. Suguru recognises it but can’t quite connect it to a face. “Nanami here. Satoru’s roommate”

Suguru sits up straight, immediately deliberating whether or not he should hang up. 

“Don’t hang up” Nanami says dryly and Suguru flushes. 

“Wasn’t planning on it” he lies, pausing the movie. “What is it?”

“I just got a call” Nanami says. “Satoru is piss drunk at some party. Again”

Suguru frowns. 

“He’s drunk?” he asks, worry temporarily drowning out his depression. “He can’t handle alcohol at all”
Nanami chuckles humourlessly.

“I know” his voice comes, tinny on the phone’s shitty speakers. “It’s the third call I’ve received in four days”
Guilt pierces Suguru. Four days. Four days ago was when…

“I don’t know what happened between you two” Nanami continues, “but Satoru can’t keep getting blackout drunk like this. Fucking pick him up and fix things”

Suguru swallows, rubbing his face. He really doesn’t want to face Satoru right now, but Satoru is still, will always be, his best friend. He can’t let him pass out at some random party around God knows what kind of people.

“Send me the address”

Three months ago

Suguru doesn’t know how, but somehow he’s ended up on the lawn. 

He closes his eyes and tries to mentally retrace his steps but things get kind of blurry once he gets to the kitchen. He remembers something about tequila and suddenly realising that the two tiny glasses in his hands were empty. Tequila probably explains why the world seems to be spinning around him. 

The grass is wet with dew and softly tickles his neck. It feels pretty nice to lie down like this, the evening air cooling down his sweaty body. It’s quiet outside too, only the pounding bass audible from the house. Suguru sighs happily and stares up at the night sky when the view is suddenly blocked by a mop of unruly, white hair. 

Suguru blinks before smiling. 

“Nice” he drawls and the person raises an eyebrow before chuckling. 

“What’s nice?” he asks before sitting down next to Suguru. Suguru drags his body up, even though his limbs feel heavy with alcohol. He rubs his eye, smearing eyeliner all over his cheek.

“The grass” he says. “The silence. You”

Satoru hums. 

“You’re nice too” he offers and Suguru grins before throwing his arms around him, tackling him to the ground. Satoru laughs. “God you’re drunk”

“Mhm” Suguru says proudly, lying on his side to look at Satoru. “You’ll drive me home, won’t you?”

Satoru is lying on his back but he twists his head to look at Suguru. His eyes seem to shine brighter than the stars. 

“Of course” he says and Suguru does a happy wriggle. 

“I love having a sober friend at parties” he says before pausing to think. “Actually, I think I just love you”

“I love you too, bro” Satoru says and Suguru’s stomach churns. The world tilts on its axis and Suguru falls forward, pressing a wet kiss to Satoru’s lips. He pulls back, feeling happy and proud. His vision is blurring and he doesn’t notice the shell-shocked look on Satoru’s face. His stomach keeps churning, like something’s riding an elevator up and down his throat. Weird. 

“Suguru” Satoru breathes. “Do you… are you…”

Suguru groans before vomiting all over Satoru’s shirt. 

He wakes up the following morning with a pounding headache and no recollection about how he got home. When he asks Satoru about it, Satoru’s face is unreadable as he asks Suguru if he remembers their conversation in the garden. 

“No” Suguru admits sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “My memory is kind of hazy after the tequila shots. Why?”

Satoru hesitates a beat too long before looking away. 

“Nothing” he says. “You just owe me a new shirt. You threw up on mine”

Suguru misses the faint blush on his cheeks. 

Present

Suguru’s heart is in his throat as he pulls up outside the house. Lights in all colours of the rainbow are blinking inside and loud music pours out of the open windows. A couple of people are smoking outside and when Suguru rushes towards the door they stop him. 

“Hey, who invited you?” a girl asks him with a frown. “This is Jackson Wang's house, he doesn't want a bunch of strangers here”

Suguru understands her concern, but every second spent outside only increases his frustration. He wants to get inside, now. 

“I’m not here for the party” he says, swatting her hand away. “My friend is piss drunk and needs help getting home”
The girl nods in understanding and backs away. 

“Sorry” she says, gesturing towards the door. “Of course you can pick him up”

Suguru storms inside and is immediately assaulted by Lady Gaga being played at volumes that must be hazardous for human ears. A girl is crying on the stairs, being comforted by her friend who tells her that it’s fine, no one’s angry at her, these kinds of things happen. Suguru guesses that the vomit being wiped up from the floor is connected to her. He walks past them, knocking into a guy who swears at him. Suguru doesn’t even hear, frantically looking for Satoru. 

The living room has been turned into a dance floor and when Satoru pushes past the sweaty bodies he finally spots Satoru on the couch, swaying back and forth. He’s talking to a guy, nodding occasionally, but his gaze is unfocused and instead of looking at the guy’s face he’s staring a little above his left shoulder. Suguru’s relief at finding Satoru safe and sound is quickly replaced by anger as he realises that the guy has his arm around Satoru’s waist. 

It’s unreasonable of him, and unfair after Suguru pushed Satoru away, but jealousy pierces Suguru’s stomach like a white-hot knife nonetheless. 

Suguru grabs Satoru’s arm, ripping him up from the sofa in a way that causes him to lose his balance and fall face-first into Suguru’s chest. The guy jumps up, alarm painted across his features. Suguru understands what it looks like, and tomorrow, when he’s calmed down, he’s going to appreciate the guy’s concern but right now he wants to tear this stranger to pieces. 

“What are you doing?” he screams, a couple of people turning their heads at the commotion. Suguru ignores all of them. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, softly stroking Satoru’s bangs out of his sweaty face. It takes Satoru a couple of seconds to recognise Suguru but when he does his features harden and he tries to squirm out of Suguru’s vice-like grip. 

“Go away” he sulks. “I don’t wanna talk to you”

Suguru doesn’t loosen his hold. 

“I’m sorry about earlier” he says. “I’m really sorry, and we’ll talk about it tomorrow, but right now you need to get home”

The guy grabs Suguru’s shoulder and squares up to appear bigger. 

“He’s not going home with you” he says angrily before turning to Satoru. “Are you alright? Should I call the police?”
Suguru is going to fucking strangle this guy. He hugs Satoru tighter and shrugs the guy off of him. 

“He’s my best friend” Suguru snarls. “I don’t trust him with you”

Satoru’s head lolls to the side and he offers the guy a weak smile. 

“‘S fine” he slurs. “‘S not like that, I’m just angry at him”

The guy looks apprehensive and Suguru tries to find it in himself to applaud him, because this is really what a kind person should do. But then he puts his hand on Satoru’s shoulder and Suguru’s possessiveness rears its ugly head again. 

“You got my number right?” he asks and Suguru sees red. “Text me tomorrow”

Before Satoru has the time to respond, Suguru has hauled him out of the house. He half-carries Satoru across the lawn and they’ve almost reached the car when Satoru stops, holding a finger up. He staggers for a couple of seconds before doubling over, emptying his stomach. Suguru tries to keep his coat out of the way and rubs his back, whispering soft words of encouragement. Once Satoru is done he wipes his mouth with his sleeve and Suguru doesn’t have the heart to remind him that it’s his favourite jacket, a designer that cost more than most people’s monthly salary. 

He shoves Satoru inside his car and prepares to fasten his seatbelt but Satoru swats him away. 

“I can do it myself” he says grumpily, seeming to have sobered up a little after puking. Suguru doesn’t argue and sits down in the driver’s seat. They haven’t even left the street when Suguru’s resolve breaks, the venomous words spilling out of him before he can stop himself. 

“Who was that guy?” he asks bitterly. Satoru scoffs next to him. 

“None of your business” he says darkly and Suguru’s grip tightens on the wheel. 

“Did he touch you?” Suguru asks, even though he knows he should stay quiet. He has no right, they’re not boyfriends, but he can’t help it. He doesn’t ever want to see anyone touching his like that Satoru ever again. “Did you kiss? Why did you give him your number?”
Suguru glances over at Satoru who’s staring out the window, refusing to look at Suguru. 

“None of your business” he repeats and Suguru grinds his teeth. “What’s it to you anyway?”

Suguru chuckles sardonically.

“Are you going to text him tomorrow?” he asks. 

“Maybe I am” Satoru says and Suguru can tell that he’s holding back anger. Beneath the simmering rage, sadness pierces right through Suguru’s chest. It’s not that Satoru isn’t queer, it’s just that he doesn’t want Suguru. He already knew of course, but it still sucks to hear. 

They fall into an angry silence until Suguru slows down outside of his dorm. When Satoru realises where they are he kicks the car door.

“Take me home” he mutters angrily. 

“No way” Suguru says. “You’re sleeping here tonight”
He opens Satoru’s door but Satoru remains where he’s sitting, arms crossed and face pointedly turned away. 

“No” he insists. “I don’t want to talk to you right now”

Suguru sighs before removing Satoru’s seatbelt and all but lifting Satoru out of the car, hoisting him over his shoulder like a firefighter. Satoru yelps in indignation and struggles, almost sending them to the floor but Suguru doesn’t let him down until they’re inside the apartment. Satoru’s hair is messed up and his eyes are glowing with rage. He looks like an angry cat. 

“Drive me home” Satoru bristles and Suguru ignores him, walking into the kitchen to get a glass of water. 

“Drink this” he says, brusquely shoving it into Satoru’s hands. Water spills all over his jacket and Satoru laughs hysterically. 

“Last time you kicked me out, and now I’m not allowed to leave? You’re fucking cruel, aren’t you”

Suguru clenches his fists. 

“Don’t twist what happened, Satoru” he warns and Satoru scoffs. 

“I’m not twisting anything” he says. “You got all pissy, accused me of using you and kicked me out. Now you’re running around acting like I’m cheating on you, which isn’t fucking fair because you were the one who broke up with me”

Satoru downs the whole glass of water in one gulp and Suguru frowns because what the hell does Satoru mean by broke up?

Satoru sways a little before wiping his mouth. 

“I think you’ve misunderstood” Suguru says and Satoru laughs again. 

“Oh I know” he says. “You made that pretty fucking clear”

Satoru shrugs his coat off, tossing it on the floor before kicking off his shoes.

“I was the only one who thought we were a thing” he says bitterly. “Which is just so fucking pathetic, isn’t it? You kissed me at that party and like a fool, I went and caught feelings! And I thought it meant something, you know? Even if it was just a handjob, I thought… I thought it meant that you liked me”

Satoru’s voice trails off, growing weak before he bursts into tears. Suguru’s mind is spinning, both from what he’s hearing and Satoru’s mood swings. Nothing of what he says makes sense. What kiss is he talking about? Has Suguru kissed Satoru? How come he doesn’t remember it?

What feelings is Satoru talking about? 

Suguru tries to breathe calmly, slowly approaching Satoru’s trembling frame. Hope is blooming in his chest and for the first time in a year, he doesn’t try to squash it. 

“Satoru” Suguru says quietly, sinking to his knees before grabbing Satoru’s wet face, guiding it until they’re looking each other in the eyes. He takes a deep breath. “What… what kind of feelings do you have for me?”

Satoru is leaning over him, his tears falling onto Suguru’s face. 

“What do you think, dumbass?” he sobs, furiously rubbing his eyes. 

“I need you to tell me” Suguru insists, his heart beating so loudly that he can barely hear his own voice. 

“I’m in love with you” Satoru says, weakly punching Suguru’s shoulder before sinking down in front of Suguru. “I don’t want to be your friend. I want to kiss you, and hug you, and have sex with you and listen to your shitty metal music. I don’t want that stupid guy at the party and you’re not an experiment, and-”
Suguru shuts him up with a kiss. 

Satoru tastes like salt, alcohol and vomit and it’s absolutely disgusting but Suguru knows that if he doesn’t do this now, things will truly be over for them. He pulls back an inch and rests his forehead against Satoru’s.

“Listen to me, Satoru” he says quietly. “I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you for a year now”

Satoru pulls away, staring at him with wide eyes. 

“You’re lying” he whispers, and Suguru shakes his head while caressing his cheek. 

“It’s true” he says. “I’ve been hopelessly in love with you ever since we met”

Satoru swallows. 

“Then why did you do that?” he asks weakly. “Why did you say all those things?”

His hands weakly claw at Suguru’s shirt and Suguru smiles. 

“Because I thought you were straight” he mumbles. “And I was scared that you were just experimenting on me, and that I would get my hopes up only to have them crushed”

Suguru sniffles and punches Suguru’s chest. 

“You’re so dumb” he says. “You… you’re so fucking dumb”

Suguru smiles before pulling Satoru into a gentle hug. 

“I know” he says, rubbing circles into Satoru’s back. “I’m so sorry”

“I really want to kiss you right now, but I probably taste like vomit”
Suguru laughs and presses a kiss to Satoru’s temple. 

“You do” he admits. “It’s pretty gross”

Satoru pinches Suguru’s arm before pulling away. 

“But tomorrow?” he asks, hopeful and worried and Suguru wonders how the fuck he could miss Satoru having feelings for him. 

“Tomorrow” Suguru agrees before kissing his forehead. “We have all the time in the world”

Satoru hums, closing his eyes. 

“Yeah” he says happily. “Now that we’re boyfriends”

A comfortable warmth spreads through Suguru’s stomach as he agrees. 

“Yeah” he echoes. “Now that we’re boyfriends”