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December 7th. Satoru’s thirtieth.
They’ve spent birthdays together before, of course. His sixteenth, when he made everyone go out to a new patisserie in the city, or Suguru’s sixteenth when it was too cold to go outside and instead played competitive Dance Dance Revolution all day. They were seamless memories, so weaved into their teenage years when tension between them remained unspoken, times of habitual teasing and careful touches. No one knew of how they shared those sweet sixteen desserts, how they watched the snowfall from under the covers. It was some sort of latching on to each other, Suguru figured. They both felt as though they were always meant to be friends, loneliness breached by proximity, the desire to have someone amidst all the growing pains of young adulthood. If he ignored the beating of his heart, the way it tugged on him like some sort of marionette, surely it would go away, wouldn’t it?
Feelings are a lot like diseases, in some way — once you catch them, it’s not easy to get rid of them. They wear you down, and long enough they leave you in ruins, crumbling while people watch unbeknownst, admiring you. They check in on you and your wellbeing, it’s been so long , they say, how are you doing ?, and if you’re Suguru you lie and say I couldn’t be better , gaze glued on platinum shine and eyes that rival the ocean. He was burning inside, raging feelings pooled and too hot to touch, melted wax like Satoru’s favorite candle to light; something like smoked vanilla and fire in November, sweet and warm, an embrace to his senses.
Suguru can see each moment so clearly, flipbook flash photography of rushed confessions and the laughter that came with it, arguments and tears and gentle kisses, reeling in his head. More birthdays at the patisserie and others at the arcade, some at fancy restaurants or upscale bars. Tonight they planned for a restaurant famous for its cheesecake, but the rapidly descending snow had other plans against their reservation. Winter was arriving, and despite their canceled dessert plans, Satoru’s face was lit up like a premature Christmas tree, staring out the window at the falling flakes against the already setting sun. Suguru walked up behind his awestruck husband and wrapped arms around his waist, his ring making a soft clink against the chilled glass. Satoru melted into the touch almost immediately, sighing and letting his hands find their way over Suguru’s, fingers intertwining like it was always the first time. Another solar return, the two of them together as always; the only difference this year was the silver bands they’ve each donned for the last five months, engraved with a date and G.S. on the inside, one set with sapphire, the other amethyst.
“I’m sorry about the restaurant,” Suguru spoke into the crook of Satoru’s neck, planting a kiss on the side, right above his collarbone. “I’ll pick you up a slice of their cheesecake on the way home from the school next week. Plain with strawberries on top and whipped cream on the side, just how you like it.”
He could see in the reflection Satoru’s smile, the eyes of their mirror images meeting each other, sincerity painted across Satoru.
“It’s okay, the weather is out of your control. You don’t have to make it up to me.”
“I’m not doing it to make it up to you. I’m doing it because I love you, and you deserve something for your birthday, something for you. I’d get you all the cheesecake in the world if I could.”
Satoru turned to look directly at his husband, holding back a grin. “God, Suguru, that’s so romantic and also so cheesy.”
“As much as cheesecake?”
The grin Satoru was hiding spread its way across his face, wide and toothy that he tried to stop by sticking his tongue between his teeth, a habit he’s held on to since they were teens. “I can’t believe you.” He squeezed Suguru’s hand, gently, tracing circles over rough skin. “Thank you.”, spoken so softly it was barely there. The snow came down harder the longer they watched, piling in mounds illuminated by incandescent streetlights turning on, staggered, flakes sparkling with the heaven’s blessing. As little as these moments were, holding one another, swaying so slightly back and forth, neither of them would trade it for all of the riches and luxuries in the world, not when they were already each other’s — and when every kiss holds as much love as the first, each smile makes your heart beat louder than the last and there’s nothing more comforting than the feeling of his ring against your cheek, how could you possibly want anything more than everything he is to you?
“Am I getting old, Suguru?”
“Hmm?” Suguru furrowed his brows, and continued, “Where is this coming from? You’re just getting out of your twenties, dummy.” He poked his husband on his forehead, nose crinkling in response. “You still have a while to go before you’re considered old…besides, even when you do grow old, I’ll be right behind you, and when both our knees give out we can get matching canes. How does that sound?”
Satoru laughed, coursing through his body and into Suguru’s. “Wow, matching canes. Sounds stupid. I like it.”
Suguru planted another kiss, this time on Satoru’s cheek, lips lingering for a moment before hovering by his ear, speaking hushed, gentle. “Why are you thinking about this all of a sudden?”
He heard Satoru sigh, felt it through his sweater, hesitation before he spoke. “I guess I just can’t help it. I can feel it…feel work and travel taking a toll on me, on my body. I miss waking up without something hurting. How long until…until it becomes unbearable? I already don’t see you as much as it is, and I –” Satoru turned around, out of the grasp of Suguru’s hands and into his arms, wrapping his own around him, hiding his eyes against Suguru’s shoulder. “I just don’t want to worry about getting sick, or hurt and having to stay away even longer. I couldn’t bear that, Suguru. I can’t bear being without you.”
All Suguru managed to do was hold him, hold his husband so tightly as if he wasn’t allowed to let him go. Words of comfort rattled in his head, too many on the tip of his tongue that would sound like gibberish if he spoke them. He understood, where Satoru was coming from; late evenings at the school combined with Satoru’s travel for work, flights at night to different countries and long car rides narrowing the amount of time they could actually spend together. If it wasn’t for the snow tonight, Satoru would’ve been getting on a plane just a few hours after his own birthday dinner. It was hard, forcing them to relish every second they spent together – which is why Suguru had to make the most of tonight.
“Hey, hey, look at me.” Satoru had raised his head with cheeks tear-stained, the glossiness in his eyes only making them appear bluer. The way he looked at Suguru, god, if only he could be looked at like that for the rest of his life, something so full of love that made him fall for Satoru all over again.
“You have every right to be exhausted, they put you through a lot. Just relax tonight, love. Why don’t you go lie down for a bit? Get some rest. It’ll do you good.”
“Are you sure? But what about–?”
“Your birthday? Spending time together? We can celebrate after you feel better. You should see the eyebags you have, Satoru…though I must say, I kinda like them. It gives you a mysterious look, very brooding.”
“Shut up. ” he punched Suguru in the arm, lightly, laughing. “Fine, I’ll go lie down. Only because you’re telling me to.” He kissed him, a soft love you muttered against lips before he slinked away into the bedroom.
Thus, Suguru got to work.
He couldn’t provide anything like fancy cheesecake, or layers of puff pastry and curd and cream; however, he knew the recipe for Satoru’s mother’s brownies by heart, ingredients they always had in the house. Cocoa powder, cinnamon, eggs and a little espresso, among others. Not forgetting the mix of semi-sweet and dark chocolate chips, just the way Satoru loved it. There were random decorations from past parties stored in a bin above the stove, tinsel from holiday celebrations and cutouts of the sun and hibiscus flowers from when Satoru wanted to have a luau with all their close coworkers. Suguru recalls Shoko burning her cigarette out on one of the suns, right between his cartoon sunglasses. They weren’t birthday decorations, per se, but at least they were something to work with. In any way he could Suguru wanted this birthday to be as special as the rest, honoring this milestone the best he could without a private restaurant lounge and endless beer refills. If it was for Satoru, it had to be perfect.
He remembers the first time he met his now-husband; they were teenagers, Suguru recently moved in to the town where Satoru grew up. He met Shoko there as well, who now works as a nurse at the same school Suguru teaches at, though at that time, he found her during the summer with another girl, sitting on the sidelines of their own school parking lot watching this kid put some sort of candy into a soda bottle, shaking it and attempting - emphasis on attempting – to run away before it exploded. His hair was so platinum, was it bleached? A shade of silver that was so alluring, so beautiful, but not beautiful enough for Suguru to see the cola-covered boy and not immediately think, i’m not going to like this guy.
Fast forward to when school began and Suguru found himself in class with one of the girls, brown-haired, and the boy from the parking lot. Ieiri Shoko, smart and witty with a chewing gum addiction, and Gojo Satoru. Despite his cola actions he was quite smart himself, in higher-level science and math courses and the first time Suguru saw him up close, all those beliefs about not going to like him vanished, somewhere far away and unattainable.
To say his hair was beautiful, even that his eyes were beautiful, was enough – but to say that Gojo Satoru himself was beautiful was an understatement. He might as well have been an angel, radiating something otherworldly and ethereal that had entranced Suguru, so much so that he thought Satoru might visit him in his dreams. They befriended each other, initially because Suguru’s strong subject of English was Satoru’s weakest, and tutoring turned into real friendship of hanging out after school and exploring the woods behind Suguru’s house, going to the movies on weekends and sneaking into parties they weren’t invited to. It was bliss, and when all the jumbled feelings started to eat away at Suguru he never thought they’d turn out to be love, reciprocated love, and looking back he can do nothing but thank the universe and bear offerings to destiny, gratitude for allowing him the privilege of knowing Satoru. The ring on his finger shines at him under the kitchen lights, a reminder of everything they’ve been through to get here, the single sapphire the same hue as the eyes of his beloved; he always did compare them to jewels, anyways.
Knowing that Satoru could wake up any moment, Suguru baked and hung up streamers against his ticking mental clock, lighting department store candles that smelled of apple spice and cinnamon sticks, dimming the lights. Tinsel drooped from the doorframes, fleetingly catching the candlelight, petals ripped off fake flowers and scattered across the floor. The brownies came out just as he wanted, fudgy with crispy corners and soft enough to put candles into, candy-striped and arranged to look like a “30” if you were to look at it from above. It wasn’t much, but it was something, something for Satoru. Just as he was lighting the last of the candles around the room, Satoru’s favorite vanilla, he heard the bedroom door creak.
“Jeez, you were right, Suguru! All I needed was a little rest, I feel like I could do anyth–” At that moment he must’ve opened his eyes completely, his words cut off by his reaction. “What…did you?...”
“Happy birthday, Satoru. It’s not a five-star restaurant, but I hope it’s enough.”
“You hope it’s enough? It is so much more than enough, Suguru. I’m just so…” He looked around the room, walking through the kitchen and grazing his hand across the furniture as if he’d never been there before, taking it all in. “Where did you even…are those the decorations from our luau? And why does it smell like my mom’s brownies?”
“I’m going to let you answer that one yourself.”
“You didn’t.”
“Oh, I absolutely did. That recipe is written inside my heart.”
“You’re crazy.”
“For you? Yes.”
Satoru stood at the kitchen island, speechless as he did his final rounds of his husband’s efforts, that same glossiness from before returning to his eyes. “I don’t know what I did in a past life to be lucky enough to marry you, Suguru, but I’m glad I did it.”
“Does that mean you like it?”
“Of course I like it, idiot. I love it, in fact. I don’t think I can say I love it as much as you, though.”
“Wow, who’s the one being cheesy now?” Suguru said as he made his way over to the counter and took Satoru’s hands in his, facing him directly.
“Hey, I have the right! I’m the birthday boy, for your information.”
“Oh, believe me, I’m aware.” He rolled his eyes, sarcastically, as Satoru stuck his tongue out in response. “I do have one more thing for you. Well, two actually. A gift, and a question.”
“A question? You can’t ask me to marry you again, Suguru.”
“Shh, shh, I know. Just wait here, I’ll be right back.” He kissed Satoru on the cheek, who hoisted himself onto the countertop and swung his legs aimlessly, waiting for his prince to return. Said prince was back only a few minutes later, a medium-sized box sitting in his palms. “A gift, for the birthday boy.”
He watched Satoru study the package for a moment before removing the lid, the same sort of awe in his expression as when he was watching the snow. A pair of bracelets, a band meeting on either side of a large oval charm, one engraved with the sun and the other the moon, like talismans.
“They’re touch bracelets.”
Satoru looked up, cocking his head a little in confusion. “Touch bracelets?”
“Or bond bracelets, I think. Basically, if we’re each wearing one and, let’s say I tap mine twice. You’ll receive that touch as vibrations as if they’re directly from me, so even when we’re not together…”
“We can still be together.”
“Yeah, something like that.”
Satoru looked down at them, almost studying them, silently. “You seriously don’t know when to stop being the best, do you?” Suguru leaned forward and kissed his forehead, down to the tip of his nose and onto his lips, feeling Satoru’s hand grab at his jaw gently to bring him closer, both of them smiling into the kiss until they parted, still standing only inches from each other.
“Okay, but what was the question you wanted to ask?”
“Oh yeah. Did you want to go out in the snow?”
“Go out…in the snow? Like, play in it?”
“I mean if that’s what you want. It can be like we’re teens again, when you didn’t feel like you were growing old.”
Satoru kissed him again, without warning. “Abso-fucking-lutely I want to play in the snow.”, and Suguru swore that this must’ve flipped some switch in Satoru as he slid to the bedroom and started ransacking the closest for his winter gear, fuzzy gloves and his favorite hat that covered his ears. Suguru figured he might as well get ready, too.
Satoru was the first out, opening his mouth to catch the snow that was still falling and flapping his arms in a parka jacket that swallowed him. “What should we do first?!”
“That’s up to you, birthday boy.”
“Why thank you, best husband in the world. Care to join me in building a snowman, like the ones we made at school?”
“I would love to, dear.”
The two of them set off for what might be the longest it’s ever taken for a normal-size snowman to be made, repeatedly throwing snow at each other and being tackled to the ground, getting distracted by kisses so passionate they might have led somewhere else if they weren’t in below-freezing temperatures. Somewhere in the middle of construction, Satoru came up with a brilliant idea that caused dusting himself off and running inside to grab one of Suguru’s special occasion cigarettes. Some branches, rocks, and a pile of wet leaves later, cigarette placed at the suggestion of lips, the two of them proudly relished in the existence of their Snowman Shoko – which Satoru immediately took photos off and messaged to his muse. With barely any feeling left in their fingers, they shed their layers in the heat of the house, shaking residual snow from their hair with noses tinted pink. Satoru kissed Suguru’s just as his had been kissed before, snuck in and stolen, rushing back to the kitchen and the brownies that awaited.
Suguru watched his excitement and leisurely followed behind, smiling at the childlike wonder that had replaced all of Satoru’s exhaustion. “Now, now, I still have to get a lighter and everything. Impatient…”
Satoru gasped, perhaps a little too dramatically. “ Me ? Impatient? Why, I’ve never been impatient before in my life!”
“Mhmm, you’ve definitely never tried to eat food while it’s still hot.” He waltzed to the living room to grab the lighter from where he left it, and continued, “Or drink your coffee right after brewing it. Or tap your foot when you have to wait in a long line, or–”
“Oh my god, Suguru, I didn’t know you had an entire encyclopedia of my habits.”
“I’m just very observant, that’s all.”
Satoru tapped his fingers on the counter, briefly zoning out, a quick pause in conversation.
“Huh...I guess you always have been. I did like that about you.”
“Did you now?”, Suguru asked as he began to light the birthday candles.
“Of course. You always noticed things in movies that I didn’t, and found shortcuts in town and in the city, and remembered all our deadlines, and…” Satoru trailed off for a moment, following the flames as they appeared. “And you were always the first to notice when I was feeling off, or when something was bothering me. Even by just how I sounded on the phone…and you always brought me my favorite snacks, even though I never told you what they were. And I have a LOT of favorite snacks, so I don’t know how you figured that one out. You’ve just always paid attention, since the day we met.” The last of the candles were lit, minuscule fires dancing to the beat of their own drum, Satoru staring as his own heart’s drumming resonated within him. He reached out and grabbed Suguru’s hand, lacing together for comfort.
“Do you want me to sing you happy birthday?”
Satoru smiled, letting out a small laugh. “No, no, it’s fine, it’s…this is enough.”, squeezing his hand as his eyes shut, a deep breath. Celebratory flames extinguished, the light and love inside him remaining. “Will I be jinxed if I tell you what I wished for?” He looked up, almost with puppy dog eyes that Suguru couldn’t help to feel intrigued by. He grinned, softly, speaking hushed in a way that made this conversation especially only for them. “I don’t think you will, no. You can tell me.”
He watched as Satoru looked back down at the brownies as if he didn’t want Suguru to see him as he confessed. “I wished that when I die and come back in a new life, I’ll be able to find you again, whatever the circumstances. I thought that maybe I wished for that in a past life, too, or something like that. I think I’d just about do anything if it meant I could spend the next millennium with you.”
This time it was Suguru who was speechless, processing the situation and the words that were now plastered in his head. Of course, he knew Satoru loved him, but hearing him say something like this made him feel like a teenager again, realization hitting that i am loved, i am loving and being loved and i will be loved until i die, i will be loved for an eternity , feeling like it was nearly his turn for the waterworks to sprout.
Instead, he pulled Satoru in for an embrace, grasping onto the knots of his knitted sweater, indulging in the scent of his cologne that wasn’t there earlier in the day. I am loved, I am loved and I love you, I love you,
“I love you, Suguru.”, and their arms gripped tighter, “I couldn’t ask for a better husband, a better person to spend my life with.”
I love you, I love you, I love you
Suguru kissed on the side of his neck again, above the collarbone, his favorite spot.
“I couldn’t either. Not in a million years.” Another kiss, where his jaw curved upwards. “I love you, Satoru, more than I could ever put into words.” Another, on the corner of his mouth. “Happy birthday.” One last one, on his lips, and he rested his head on Suguru’s shoulder, holding each other and dancing to music that didn’t exist, their own flame in the darkness.