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Eyestrain
1st year, June
The curse they were hunting wasn’t particularly powerful, but it’s ability at running away was definitely outmatched any of the other they’ve encountered yet. It took them nearly a week to finally corner it. It hadn’t even been particularly satisfying at the end when Satoru finally pinned it, allowing Suguru to condense and take it in.
They sat at the bus stop now, waiting for their ride from the school to show up, but Satoru was quieter then usual. A glance at the other boy told Suguru that something was up, his brows furrowed in clear irritation.
“Are you okay?” Suguru asked. Looking a little closer, he noticed something was missing. “Wait, where’s your glasses?”
Satoru sighed, pulling them out of his pocket—or at least what was left of them. The entire left lens of the glasses was shattered, the bridge of them completely twisted. Even the earpiece pieces was falling apart. Satoru dropped it into Suguru’s hands and rubbed at the bridge of his nose.
Suguru lifted the glasses gingerly and squinted through the unbroken lens. It was completely black.
“What’s wrong with it?”
Satoru lifted his head. “What?”
“It’s black. Did it get dirty?”
“Oh,” Satoru shrugged. “No, it’s just like that.”
Suguru stared at Satoru, then back to the glasses. Then back to Satoru again. Satoru had gone back to rubbing his eyes, and when he opened them again they were red rimmed.
Then it clicked.
“It’s your Six Eyes, isn’t it?” Suguru asked. He looked down at the glasses. “They help with them?”
Satoru squinted at Satoru, eyes bright with realization. “Right, you don’t really know about this stuff.” Satoru sighed loudly, slumping back into the bench. “Unlike Infinity, I can’t turn off Six Eyes. The glasses helped reduce the strain.”
“So they’re running twenty-four seven?”
“Yep. I’ve never not had them, but it’s probably something like staring at a TV all day, except worse.”
Suguru shook his head. “And you’ve been using it non-stop the entire week. You didn’t say anything.”
“Honestly, I didn’t think it would be so bad.” Satoru seemed to give up, leaning back against the back of the bench and pressing the palms of his hands against his eye sockets, groaning. “This is such a fucking pain.” He sounded so miserable Suguru couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for him.
They’d been classmates for more then a couple months now, and Suguru was still trying to figure out if being stuck with the other boy was a good or a bad thing. Satoru…definitely was the type that took some time to get acquired to. But after a few months of missions and classes together, Satoru was definitely more then the immature jerk that Suguru had first perceived him as.
“Do you have eyedrops?” Suguru asked.
“No. Never tried them, I hate putting things in my eyes.”
Well, made sense considering how important those eyes were for him. Suguru looked towards the nearby convenience store, just a few metres away.
“I’ll be back,” Suguru said, standing up. Satoru’s hand shot out, grabbing Suguru’s arm before he walk away. Satoru still had one hand pressed against one eye, but the other was wide open, staring at Suguru. The intensity of the gaze was startling.
“Where are you going,” Satoru demanded. His hand was tight around Suguru’s wrist. The boy seemed strangely panicked. Suguru frowned at the hand around his wrist and Satoru loosened it a fraction.
“The convenience store,” Suguru said slowly, wary. Satoru’s stare didn’t lessen in the slightest.
“The car will be here soon,” Satoru said.
“I know. I’ll be quick.”
“We’re going to be heading back to campus, do you really need to go?”
“There’s no convenience store on campus.”
“We have vending machines.”
Suguru’s eyebrows were probably high on his forehead by now.
“Satoru, do you…not want me to leave or something?”
The hand around Suguru’s wrist faltered, then released him completely, falling away. “I’m just telling you it’s a waste of time,” he said. Stubborn, even when the answer was clear. Suguru looked at Satoru, his brows still pinched with irritation.
“You can just…come with me,” he said hesitantly. “If your worried about be alone.”
Satoru barred his teeth in a snarl. He reminded Suguru of a cornered animal. “Don’t wanna,” he said, and then went back to shoving his palms into his eye sockets, elbows braced on his knees as he turned towards the ground. “Also, I’m not worried. Do what you want.”
Satoru just sat like that, curled forward on himself. As much as he would like to see a humbled Satoru for once, this was just…uncomfortable. Seeing Satoru, arrogant, loud, boisterous Satoru, being actually miserable felt wrong. Well, better be quick then.
Suguru jogged to the convenience store, found what he was looking for and quickly jogged back. Satoru was still in the same position when he got back. He barely acknowledged Suguru when he got back, even though he definitely heard him approach. Was he mad?
“Here.” Suguru unwrapped the eye mask from its bag, holding it out to the other boy. Satoru opened his eyes. He blinked at the eye mask slowly, like he didn’t know what to think of it. He stared at it long enough that Suguru shook it a little, frowning. “You do know what this is right? It’s an eye mask. People wear it to sleep.”
“Of course I know,” Satoru said. He reached out, taking it from Suguru. He turned it in his hands for a few moments, then looked up at Suguru with eyes that seemed a little lost. He looked baffled, but Suguru couldn’t think of a reason of why he would be.
“Is it really only your eyes that are strained?” Suguru asked skeptically. “Or is it your brain too?”
“Technically they’re connected,” Satoru replied, not taking offence like Suguru expected. He looked down at the eye mask in his hands. He looked uncharacteristically serious when he looked at Suguru again. “Thanks. You didn’t have to.”
“You’re so earnest right now, it’s kind of creepy,” Suguru muttered. Satoru’s brows furrowed, lips turning down in a frown and Suguru immediately regret his words. Satoru was putting himself out of his comfort zone—sarcasm probably wasn’t the right way to deal with it. “Don’t mention it,” he said. “We’re friends, right? It’s just what friends do.”
Satoru nodded once, jerkily. “Right,” he said. “Friends.” He finally put on the sleeping mask and as soon as it was in place, he sunk back into the bench. Not quite relaxed, but definitely less tense than before. At least he was no longer curled on himself like that. Suguru sat on the bench next to him, and belated remembered he’d forgotten to buy gum to get rid of the bitter curse taste lingering in his mouth.
He supposed that could wait for later.
Flu
1st year, January
When Suguru walked into Satoru’s room that morning, he was still in bed. That wasn’t necessarily unusual, but his unresponsive form, shivering in the blankets in a miserable ball definitely was.
He sent a quick text to Shoko, asking for advice, but it was the flu—there wasn’t much that even she could do. So Suguru took the usual preparations; drinks from the vending machine, thermometer to check the temperature, cold towel for the fever, blankets to keep warm, tissues for the runny nose. He hesitated for a moment before grabbing a book as well. Just in case he had to stay.
When he came back with the stuff, Satoru was awake, watching Suguru with bleary eyes as he approached.
“I think I’m sick,” Satoru said. He sounded pathetic, his voice rough. Suguru set down the drinks on nightstand.
“Yeah.” Suguru touched the back of his hand to Satoru’s forehead. It was burning. He clicked his tongue, holding the thermometer to Satoru. “You know how to use this?”
Satoru squinted. “Do I stick it up my ass?”
“No, your armpit you dumbass.”
The thermometer read thirty-eight point seven, which was a little too close to thirty-nine for comfort. Chills, a fever. It was definitely flu season, but for some reason he could have never imagined Satoru catching it. Suguru sat down next to the bed, resigning himself to nurse duty. It wasn’t like he had anything better to do right now.
Satoru was looking at him, eyes unfocused. “Isn’t the flu contagious or something?” he said. Suguru shrugged.
“I got the flu shot,” Suguru said, nudging the tissue box closer to Satoru so he could more easily reach it. Satoru ignored it and continued to look at Suguru, his nose dripping. He was probably too out of it to care. “I told you, you should have gotten it too.”
“I don’t like needles.”
“I know, you made that very clear. With all the screaming and all.”
“I didn't scream."
"You did."
“I did not.”
“You did. It was literally only me, you, and Shoko in the room, I don’t know why you’re bothering to deny it.”
Satoru hmphed, burrowing deeper into his blankets.
“I’ve never gotten sick before,” Satoru mumbled. Suguru raised an eyebrow.
“You got a cold last year didn't you?”
“Yeah, but never the flu.” Satoru moved around restlessly, kicking off his blankets. “Hot.” The cool towel fell off his forehead, and Suguru bit back a sigh.
“Can't you stay still?” He asked, rearranged the blankets over Satoru’s feet and refolding the towel. This time he placed it over Satoru’s eyes. It tended to help him, having something covering them. Satoru relaxed, the furrow at his brows smoothing ever so slightly.
“It’s hot,” Satoru mumbled. He wrenched an arm free of the blankets. Suguru pulled back a little to avoid getting hit in the head but he still had one arm resting on the bed. Satoru’s arm settled over Suguru’s, curling over Suguru’s sleeve. Satoru relaxed further, sighing.
“That’s the fever. You still need to stay warm,” Suguru chided lightly, but made no move to extract arm. The grip on his sleeve just tightened.
Satoru started to drift off to sleep after a couple minutes, breathing evening out. Satoru’s hand was still gripping his sleeve tightly, so Suguru was effectively trapped. He used his other arm to check his texts. Shoko wasn’t on campus for once, sent off with a group of sorcerers to exorcise a grade two curse. It was the kind of curse that either of them could take out easily, but luckily, they hadn’t been assigned to it.
Along with her recommendations, Shoko wrote: Make sure he gets fluids. Also, try to limit your time near him, it’s probably Influenza. Flu shot isn’t 100%.
Suguru read the text then looked at Satoru, mumbling nonsense in his sleep. He glanced at his phone again.
Dully noted, he typed. Water’s okay? Tea?
Shoko replied quickly. Water, not tea. If you’re not going to listen, you better be wearing a mask at least.
Ah, he knew he’d forgotten something. Too late now. Suguru sent Shoko a quick thanks and picked up his book. Reaching for it nearly pulled his sleeve out of Satoru’s grasp, and Satoru made a sound, muffled but still undoubtedly a sound of displeasure.
“Okay, okay.” Suguru quickly readjusted his arm so it was more comfortable, but close enough so Satoru could still hold on. Satoru was surprisingly clingy when sick. He hadn’t been like this last time he had a cold, but that time he hadn’t exactly been bedridden anyways.
He settled back onto the ground, opening his book one-handed. It was a little uncomfortable but not horribly so. There were definitely worse places to be.
Hay fever
1st year, March
“Ah—CHOO—”
Suguru grimaced, watching as Satoru blew his nose on another tissue, adding to the steadily growing pile on his desk. He’d been going at it like this the whole lesson, and even closing the windows hadn’t helped a bit. Yaga had ended up dismissing class early cause of it.
They still sat in the classroom because even when congested Satoru was stubborn as hell. Suguru was attempting to get through the new English homework Yaga had assigned them, but it really was slow goings with Satoru suffering a desk away.
“You need medicine,” Suguru said after Satoru finished blowing his nose for the nth time. Satoru turned to him with red, watering eyes.
“I don’t,” Satoru said, voice stuffy. “I’m not allergic. I’ve never been allergic before. He sniffed loudly. Suguru shot him a look of exasperation.”
“Yes you do. You can barely function. Allergies can develop over time, you know? And pollen season is for months?”
"I'm one of the strongest," Satoru insisted. "I'm not going to let some horny flowers get the best of--" Satoru cut off, diving for the tissue box and sneezed three times in quick succession. Suguru leaned back a little, watching with some resignation. He'd long given up getting out of the spray zone.
“Satoru, if you don’t drive me crazy, you’re going to drive Shoko crazy, and you know her. She’s just going to stab you with a needle. Do you really want that?”
“No,” Satoru sniffed miserably, eyes watering tearfully. He turned wide doe-like eyes towards Suguru, and he painted such a sad picture that Suguru had to remind himself it was hay fever, not real tears. Satoru was definitely playing up the misery since it was just the two of them now. Suguru was probably too soft on him.
Suguru poked his forehead with the back of his pencil. Satoru drew back, clutching his head with a wounded look. Suguru rolled his eyes.
“We’re going to the drug store,” Suguru said firmly. Satoru pouted. “Don’t give me that look. Do you really want to prolong your suffering? Allergy medicine is pretty mild, and it’s made so people can still function. You’ll be fine.”
Satoru sniffed. “Fine,” he said, standing up as Suguru began to put away his things. “But we’re stopping at the snacks aisle while we’re there.”
Before they left, Suguru grabbed the tissue box that Satoru had nearly forgotten, tossing it at his friend. He eyed it with distate but held on to it.
“I don’t know how you functioned without me,” Suguru said as they walked out. Satoru blew his nose again, tucking the tissue box under an armpit. Satoru mumbled something that was too quiet to make out. “What?”
Satoru eyed the now gross tissue forlornly. He didn’t toss it on the ground like Suguru expected, shoving it in his pocket instead. Maybe he was learning.
“I said…” Satoru looked at Suguru, eyes bright in the midday sun. Suguru’s heart constricted slightly at the sight, a common feeling now a day—like the sight of Satoru was too much for his heart to handle. “Sometimes, I’m not sure either.”
Broken bone
2nd year, April
Broken bones were pretty rare, between the two of them. Suguru had broken his leg once, from falling off his curse and not summoning another one fast enough to break his fall, but that had been just the smallest fracture, and Shoko had been able to fix it quickly.
They were second years now, which meant that, apparently, special grade curses were within their mission sphere now. They were both upgraded to special grades themselves this year, and while it was great to be acknowledged, it was also a pain.
They’d gone in a little too arrogant. It was their first mission of the school year. The curse had been classified as a grade one in their mission briefing, but it was clear that this one was beyond that—maybe on the border of grade one and special grade. Satoru had been careless, didn’t have his Infinity on when he should have.
Shoko told them it was a clean break, but an injury of this level had to heal slowly, which meant Satoru was left with a cast on his right arm. He’d treated it a bit of a novelty at first, doodling on it with his left hand and shoving it people’s faces like it was a prize. Then he’d gotten bored.
“It itches.”
“Shoko mentioned it might.”
“It’s annoying.”
“Obviously.”
"I can't even jerk off," Satoru whined. He was lying on Suguru’s bed, taking up the majority of it. "Su-gu-ru—”
“How horrible,” Suguru said, flipping to the next page of his book, ignoring the way Satoru tried to wriggle his way into Suguru’s lap. “Stop that, I’m reading.”
“I’m bored.” Satoru peered up at him, fluttering his eyelashes. “Suguru, let’s make out.”
“If you’re bored watch TV.”
“Nothing’s on!”
“Read manga.”
“I already finished the rentals. Let’s go to Tsutaya!”
“Maybe later.”
Lying his head on Suguru’s lap, Satoru poked at Suguru’s ribs with his uninjured hand. Suguru swatted it away. “C’mon Suguru, I’m injured. Can’t you take a little pity on me?”
Suguru leveled Satoru with a flat look.
“You were the one that was messing around when I told you to take it seriously,” Suguru said. Satoru tilted his head.
“Are you mad?” Satoru didn’t seem quelled at all. Just curious. Suguru bit back a sigh.
“No,” he said reflexively, then frowned. “Wait, maybe a little.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Because you were being an idiot.”
“It’s part of my natural charm.”
Suguru dropped his book onto Satoru’s, rapping the spine against his forehead.
“Ow!”
“There’s nothing charming about being an idiot.”
“Then why am I attracted to you?” Satoru retorted. Suguru flushed.
“I’m so done with you,” he groaned, lifting his book back up.
Satoru was quiet for a moment, which meant he was undoubtedly pouting. Suguru ignored him for a while, but eventually, the weight of the stare on him became too distracting. He looked down, and he was right. He was pouting, staring at Suguru with sad eyes that were obviously exaggerated, but Suguru still felt his heart twinge at the sight anyways. Dammit. Satoru’s gaze brightened ever when Suguru looked away from his book, and Suguru knew he was already doomed.
“…” He sighed, putting down his book down. “Alright, come here,” he said. Satoru was up in a flash, straddling Suguru’s lap with practiced ease. His cast bumped against Suguru’s chest in this position. There were probably better ways to do this, but Satoru was staring down at him, licking his lips eagerly and Suguru couldn’t quite find it in himself to complain.
“Nothing strenuous,” Suguru said sternly. Satoru shifted against him and Suguru had to bite back an embarrassing sound. “You’re supposed to be resting.”
“Yeah yeah,” Satoru wrapped his uninjured hand around Suguru’s shoulders, smiling widely. “Thanks, nurse.”
Nosebleed
2nd year, November
"Ah," Satoru touched the blood. They both stared at his red fingertips. "Hm."
Suguru dropped the pencil he’d been throwing at Satoru for his Infinity training. "Hankerchief?" He asked, patting at his own pockets. Satoru shook his head. Blood dripped down in rivets, showing no sign of stopping.
"I don't carry one," Satoru muttered, his voice thick from the blood. Right, Satoru was the type of heathen to shake his hands out on other people or dry them on his clothes. And occasionally others. “Ugh, tastes gross.”
Suguru pulled out his own handkerchief, dabbing at Satoru's face carefully. He guided him to a nearby tree, sitting him down under it. It would have to do for now. “Pinch your nose,” Suguru said. “And lean forward.” Satoru did as he was told. He said something that was indiscernible through the handkerchief, and Suguru leaned forward, frowning.
"What?"
"I said it's going to be ruined. The handkerchief. It’ll stain." Satoru raised his head slightly. The blood he’d missed was dripping down past his lips, past his chin, and onto his white shirt.
Suguru blinked and suddenly he was seeing Satoru in a different blood-stained shirt, so caked with blood it was a miracle he was alive. Suguru’s breathing hitched. While Satoru had showered afterwards, the blood had stayed no matter how furiously Suguru rubbed with soap. It has been Satoru who ended up taking his shirt back from Suguru’s shaking hands, bagging to toss out despite his protest.
“Suguru?”
Suguru blinked again and the image was gone. Satoru looked at him questioningly, and Suguru cleared his throat.
“It's fine.” He tried to will his hands to stop shaking. It didn't work. “I'm surprised you even thought about it. You tend not to care about these kinds of things."
"'Cause it's yours." Satoru blinked up at Suguru, like it should have been obvious, and the fine trembling of Suguru’s hands lessened slightly. Satoru’s glasses were sliding down the bridge of his nose, getting dangerously close to the blood. Suguru breathed out slowly, plucking them off Satoru's face before they could.
"You're surprisingly cute when you're being thoughtful," he said. His voice was a little shaky, but Satoru didn’t seem to notice, grinning.
“I’m always cute,” Satoru said. “Even like this.”
“Sure you are,” Suguru sighed. There was a drawn-out silence
“I’m fine,” Satoru said, before Suguru could say anything. Suguru shot him an incredulous look. “Really, I am. This isn’t the first time this happened. Or even the second time.”
Suguru frowned. “When was the last time?”
“When I was young.” Satoru sighed. “When I was a kid.”
“You’re still a kid. We’re still kids.” And yet on their first failed mission, Satoru had nearly died, and they were both broken a little on the inside. Or at least Suguru was. They haven’t been in sync for quite some time now.
“Yeah,” Satoru agreed. “I mean, when I was like, ten or something. I wasn’t as good at using my technique back then. This kind of thing happened a lot when I pushed too hard.”
Suguru hands slowly balled into fists. “…You’ve been pushing yourself.” He said quietly. “Since the mission.”
“…A little.” Satoru lowered his hand from his nose, lifting his head. It was too fast to have clotted, but Satoru probably used reverse cursed technique to speed up the process. “See? Good as new. I’m fine.”
Suguru breathed out a sigh. He leaned forward, resting his head forehead against Satoru’s shoulder, gripping the front of Satoru’s shirt. The sharp tang of blood, coppery and metallic, was strong but Suguru ignored it.
“I’m fine,” Satoru said again, quieter this time. Suguru didn’t lift his head, hiding his face.
I know you are, he thought. But are we?
Nausea
10 years later
After bringing the body to the morgue, Satoru walked straight to the nearest bathroom and threw up.
It wasn't the fact that there was Suguru’s dead body lying in the morgue, or even the fact that the process of decomposition had already begun. Bodies he could deal with. Has dealt with hundreds and hundreds of times in varying horrifying states of deterioration. Not just strangers—former students, former classmates, teachers, friends. He was used to that stuff by now.
He didn’t think he could feel worse than he did when Suguru had left, and yet, here he was, hunched over the toilet and emptying the remains of his stomach in it. His chest felt tight, like something had taken hold of him and was squeezing with all his might. It was like a stone had replaced his heart, weighing him down, down, down. He could barely breathe—every breath brought another wave of nausea and had him gagging, leaning against the toilet.
Searching his body with his cursed energy showed nothing. There was nothing wrong with him. He already knew that, and Six Eyes only confirmed it. There was nothing reversed cursed technique to help with this.
It was all in his head, yet undoubtedly physical. How incredibly weak of him.
How else was a person to react to being the one to blot of the life of the only person they really loved?
He kept seeing it—the moment Suguru’s eyes dimmed to nothing, his body growing slack, like a doll’s. Satoru’s hand has been steady when he unleashed Hollow Purple. Only afterwards did his hands shake with the realization that Suguru Geto was no longer in this world with him. Just the thought made him lean back over the lid of the toilet, choking.
A presence appeared behind him and a small hand, too small to be Suguru’s, rubbing gently at his back. The fact that his Infinity let the person through meant that there was only one other person it could be. He must have looked truly pathetic, for Shoko to offering comfort. She never really was the type.
"This is the men's bathroom," Satoru muttered, still leaning against the cool porcelain. Shoko hummed.
“I’m a doctor.” She pressed a hand to his forehead, comfortingly cool. Satoru closed his eyes. “Your cursed energy is all over the place.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“You can’t fix it?”
Satoru laughed hollowly. “Maybe eventually.”
Shoko kneels down behind him, nudging him so she could see his face. She studied him with sharp eyes for a long moment. The bags under her eyes were even more pronounced then usual. Through the acrid smell of vomit, he could smell the faint scent of smoke from her. Cigarettes.
“You’re smoking again?” Satoru wiped his eyes with the back of a sleeve. He hadn’t realized he’d been crying as well. Shoko wordlessly passed him a handful of tissues. “I thought you quit.”
“I did.” Shoko said. She didn’t elaborate, and Satoru didn’t ask. They both knew why anyways. “Do you need sleeping pills tonight?”
Satoru smiled. It felt wrong, but he did it anyways. “I’m not planning on sleeping.”
Shoko studied him. “Of course your not,” she said. She didn’t sound resigned or anything—just understanding. She reached behind her, picking something up. She passed him a bottle of water. “Here. You’ll need fluids whenever you’re done.”
His hand curled around the head of the bottle, more automatically than any conscious thought behind it. “Thanks, Shoko.” he said. Shoko nodded, standing up.
“We need to talk about what to do with his body,” she said. “The higher-ups are going to take over if you’re not quick.”
Satoru took a deep breath, standing up as well. His mouth tasted disgusting and acidic. It’s been a very, very long time since he’d thrown up, not since school when he still had Suguru there next to him. It was gross, but it reminded him a little of the taste of curses when they kissed.
“Yeah,” Satoru said. “Let’s go.”
Emotional vulnerability
“Hey, Suguru.”
Suguru looked up just in time to see Satoru’s face much too close to his. Lips pressed against his own and Suguru got the brief impression of warm and soft before they were gone again. Satoru drew back before Suguru could do anything, licking his lips. His cheeks were bright with color.
For once Suguru didn’t know what to say. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Satoru’s shoulders were tight with tension, and he looked away. His ears were red as well.
“…Sorry,” he said. “Never mind.” Suguru stared. Satoru never apologized, and especially not like that, in that defeated tone of voice. Satoru started to get up from under the kotatsu, and Suguru grabbed his arm before he could. Satoru looked at the hand around his wrist, eyes wide with panic.
“Satoru,” Suguru said gently. Satoru met his gaze slowly, almost reluctantly. His eyes widened at what he saw.
Suguru tugged at him, and Satoru went willingly. Cupping his hand behind Satoru’s neck, he dragged Satoru into another kiss.
It was clumsy with inexperience, but Satoru was so eager, tilting his head with enthusiasm. Being him, it didn’t take long until Satoru understood the rhythm of it, cupping Suguru’s jaw to deepen it. Suguru’s toes curled as Satoru’s tongue licked against the seam of his lips, and he could feel the beginning of embers beginning to heat inside of him. He broke it off before it could get any deeper, panting for air as he leaned back.
Satoru’s eyes were bright. He laughed, throwing his arms around Suguru’s neck and pressing his forehead to Suguru’s. Suguru couldn’t help the wide smile on his lips, curling his fingers into Satoru’s soft hair.
“Thank fucking god,” Satoru said. “I didn’t know what the hell I’d do if you rejected me.”
“Wasn’t it obvious? That I felt the same.”
“Sometimes. But sometimes I wasn’t sure.” Satoru tilted his lips, pressing another, chaste kiss against Suguru’s lips. Despite himself Suguru’s felt his face warm, and Satoru’s smile turned sly.
“I knew,” Suguru said. “You were kind of obvious.” Satoru raised an eyebrow.
“Then why did you say anything?”
There were a lot of reasons. Rejection, the possibility of losing Satoru, of changing things. Suguru sighed, thumb brushing against the Satoru’s temple. The other boy shivered slightly, leaning into the touch. At the end, the biggest reason was undeniable.
“Takes a lot to be vulnerable around others,” Suguru said. Satoru hummed in agreement.
“Yeah,” Satoru smiled, and Suguru thought he could drown in that smile, forever and forever. “It is. But it’s not so bad around you.”