Ophelia233



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    “You don’t have to treat me any differently now, you know,” Satoru says.

    Suguru blinks. “Okay.”

    “Just because I don’t want to have sex with people doesn’t mean you can’t touch me that way.”

    The noise Suguru makes is strangled. He looks away for some reason, the tips of his ears burning red-hot, and like -

    Okay, so maybe Satoru could have worded that a little differently.

    Maybe he hasn’t used the right phrase here!

    “I mean, don’t hold back on my account,” he says, trying again and somehow making it even worse. “Like, touch me however you want to touch me. Do whatever you would’ve done in high school, or whatever; like, wrap me up in your arms and hold me closer, tiny dancer, and fuck, I am not making this better, am I?”

    “You’re really fucking not,” Suguru agrees.

    Satoru Gojo isn't looking for love when he goes to his first Pride at the ripe old age of twenty-eight.

    He finds it anyway.

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    23 Apr 2026

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    “We have a problem.” Satoru announces, slamming into Suguru’s studio two days later. He feels guilty. Like so so guilty.

    “That so?” Suguru asks from his bed, lounging in a pair of sweats, his shirt hiked up. He scratches at his happy trail and glances over at Satoru. His demeanor changes instantly at whatever he sees on Satoru’s face. He swings his feet off his low bed, sitting up and leaning forward. “Satoru, what’s wrong?”

    Satoru situates himself on the bed next to Suguru, crossing his legs and sitting so they’re facing each other. He meets Suguru’s eyes and cannot speak. Totally blank brain. Suguru touches his knee gently, probably about to say something helpful and kind like take your time or whatever you need.

    For some reason, Satoru panics.

    “I can’t come.” He announces, much louder than he needs to. “Unless I’m thinking about you.”

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    11 Apr 2026

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    "You don't know what you're talking about," Suguru says dismissively, his voice laced with quiet indifference and a hint of irritation. The deliberate clink of books and pens echoes in the stillness, a subtle reminder of the distance he’s putting between them. His gaze flickers toward Satoru. "And get off my desk."

    Satoru’s lips curl into a smug smile as he rolls his tongue over the lollipop hanging lazily from his mouth. Unbothered, his eyes sparkle with mischief. "Or what, Professor?"

    OR

    Gojo Satoru knew nothing about love when he started playing his game. He knew nothing of its gifts and its sorrows and its consequences. There were only two things that he was sure about: for one, he was obsessed with space, and for another, he wanted Geto Suguru to notice him.

    The rest, all of the things that Satoru wasn't prepared for, came long after he began to play.

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    04 Mar 2026

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    So Suguru’s moving to kiss him— big deal. His breath smells like alcohol, and Satoru should find it gross but he doesn’t. Suguru turns his chin just slowly enough for Satoru to change his mind, but all Satoru does it comply, letting Suguru’s hand guide him towards him with mischief in his eyes and a small smile, and it’s just not a big deal, they’re just fucking around: Satoru feels fully confident about the lightheartedness of this moment right up until the very second Suguru slots their lips together.

    /

    Or: One kiss is all it takes to make the dam crumble, to make Satoru ache for things he doesn't understand. All he craves is to keep taking pleasure from Suguru, and he can't seem to put together why Suguru's indulging him.

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    12 Dec 2025