Work Text:
Suguru doesn’t know what they are doing. He doesn’t know and it’s driving him insane. He goes a little bit more insane with every arm that’s linked with his, with every hand that clasps his shoulder, with every body that is draped over his back and most of all he goes insane when blue eyes lock on his, all the trust in the world in them and apparently so, so content to be there with him.
Satoru doesn’t seem to have the same problem he has, because to him it all seems easy. He reaches out for Suguru as if it doesn’t cost him anything, as if he has put no thought whatsoever into that motion and Suguru can’t say the same for himself.
Sure, he always meets Satoru in the middle; there is not an outstretched hand that goes unmet or a collision of bodies that gets shrugged of but Suguru can’t make his thoughts stop spinning.
He doesn’t know what it means beyond that it makes Satoru happy and it bothers Suguru. It chips away at him, one touch at a time, because he just doesn’t know.
Suguru knows what these touches, this easy comradery, this comfortable friendship means to him, though. It means the world to him and then some.
But it’s not as if he can say that, not when he doesn’t know what it all means to Satoru, because it might end up being too much. It’s Satoru who takes and takes and takes, seemingly effortlessly, seemingly unselfconsciously, and while Suguru gives and gives and gives, he’s a little bit scared of taking for himself.
Because it means so much to him and Suguru knows himself well enough to know that he might end up taking more than Satoru might be willing to give.
Satoru reaches out for him all the time, makes sure there’s always a point of contact, no matter how small, and yet—he might still shy away if Suguru were to pull him close, might not ever look at Suguru the same again if he were to kiss him like he has wanted to for so long now.
And Suguru can’t risk it.
But he also can’t get his mind to shut up and he knows that at one point he’s going to have to ask. He’ll just have to man up and outright ask Satoru what it all means, what it all means to him but he can’t bring himself to do that, not yet, not quite.
“You’re thinking way too hard for this horrid weather,” Satoru drawls from the side, where he is slumped against Suguru’s body, their sweat making them stick together almost uncomfortably and yet Suguru has not wasted a single thought on pulling away from Satoru.
He’d rather die a miserable death in this heat than move away from Satoru.
“Not everyone can run around with an empty head,” Suguru shoots back, not missing a single step in their banter and he feels more than he sees how Satoru pouts at that.
“Well, better an empty head than overthinking every single step, no matter how small,” Satoru grumbles out, though he does also press a little bit closer and Suguru closes his eyes.
Maybe it’s that easy; maybe he is overthinking everything and everything would turn out fine if he would just give in for a moment, but Suguru is not that kind of person.
He can’t make his thoughts stop, can’t make that nagging voice in his mind shut up and in all honesty, he kind of envies Satoru that he seems to be able to do that seemingly effortlessly.
Satoru always goes with the flow; he does what he thinks is right, what feels right, Suguru knows that, and he drags Suguru along more often than not when his own thoughts keep him rooted to the spot.
Suguru in turn sometimes makes Satoru slow down, makes him put at least a little bit more thought into things as well, and it’s a system that works well for them, Suguru has to admit that.
He just wishes it would work well for this horrible limbo he finds himself in as well.
Maybe he’s reading too much into Satoru’s touches, into the delight he spots on his face when Satoru’s eyes find Suguru’s, and maybe he’s not. He doesn’t know, can’t know, really, until he finds the words to ask Satoru about it, but that day is not today, Suguru thinks with a wistful sigh and drops his head on top of Satoru’s.
“All of your thoughts make you heavy as fuck,” Satoru mutters and Suguru chuckles.
“Perfect to keep your air-head tethered to the ground,” he replies and yelps when Satoru pokes his side.
“You’re always so rude to me.”
“You started it!”
“Doesn’t mean you have to shoot back,” Satoru huffs out and Suguru reaches over to flick his forehead, muscle memory guiding him more than anything else.
“So you just want me to take your abuse?” he asks and goes a little bit hotter under the collar when Satoru moves just enough to peek up at him, a smirk gracing his lips.
“Yeah?”
“Dream on,” Suguru somehow gets out, his voice strangled but thankfully Satoru doesn’t seem to notice.
“Another time then,” Satoru decides, as if he’ll be there to bother Suguru always, for the rest of their days and sometimes Suguru wonders how his chest can contain his heart with how big it feels all of a sudden.
“Another time,” he still agrees, because the thought of having Satoru like this for the rest of his life is everything he wants.
Stupid overthinking thoughts be damned.
~*~*~
Suguru barely has enough time to hold his book out of reach before Satoru spills himself into his lap, no regard for personal space at all, and Suguru’s heart stutters in his chest when Satoru blinks up at him from where his head is pillowed on his thighs.
“I’m bored,” Satoru whines out, as if that isn’t his normal state of being, and he makes a content sound not unlike a cat when Suguru lowers a hand to scratch at his scalp.
“What do you want me to do about it?” Suguru asks, putting his book aside, because there’s no chance he’ll get back to reading it, not with Satoru in this state.
“Don’t know. Entertain me,” Satoru demands as if Suguru is a monkey who can perform a trick at the drop of a command and he sighs.
“Entertain yourself,” Suguru shoots back and Satoru whines pathetically before he rolls over and buries his face in Suguru’s stomach.
Suguru buries his hand more firmly in Satoru’s wispy soft hair and while Satoru seems more than content to stay like this, Suguru can’t get his thoughts to shut up.
The words spill out without his conscious decision.
“Satoru, what are we doing?” he asks, his stomach fluttering with nerves because this matters, this matters so much to him and he doesn’t know if it means the same to Satoru, can’t be sure what his answer is going to be.
“Resting,” Satoru immediately says, clearly not picking up on the deeper meaning of Suguru’s words and that, too, is just like them.
“No, I mean—this, us. What does it mean?” Suguru tries to clarify and he knows he’s only marginally successful when Satoru takes his face out of Suguru’s stomach to blink up at him, obvious confusion on his face.
“Huh?” he asks and Suguru sighs.
There’s no way Satoru is going to let this go now, not now that he sees how much this means to Suguru, how much it bothers him, and so Suguru decides to simply commit to it.
He has to believe that no matter what Satoru’s answer is going to be, he’s not going to turn completely away from him.
“Satoru, what do you feel for me?” Suguru asks, because that question has bothered Suguru for so long now.
He sees how Satoru is with the others, knows that he’s not even half as close to them as he is with Suguru and yet—
“I think that you’re an idiot,” Satoru grumbles, clearly unhappy with the fact that what he hoped to be a lazy afternoon turned into something more serious. “I also think that you’re my best friend, my one and only and that together we’re the strongest,” he still goes on, indulging Suguru’s line of questioning but Suguru shakes his head.
“That’s what you think about me,” he corrects, even though he can’t help the fond feeling welling up inside of him. “But what do you feel about me?”
“I don’t understand what you mean,” Satoru whines out after a moment of thought and Suguru can’t help the fond smile, can’t help but to scratch lightly at his head again, even though he dreads having to put this into words.
“When you—do this,” he indicates at their current position, “what do you feel? Why are you doing it?”
“Because it feels natural?” Satoru immediately replies and wriggles around like a happy cat.
It’s clear he never gave this more thought, never even tried to figure out why it feels natural to do this with Suguru and maybe he should just take this; maybe he can be content with this, accept it as the given state and move on, but deep down Suguru knows that he can’t, not in the long run.
“It feels natural?” Suguru asks for clarification and Satoru nods.
“I just do what feels natural with you,” he says, shrugging. “I wouldn’t do any of these things with anyone else, it just doesn’t feel the same.”
“And—you never wondered why that is?” Suguru carefully asks, because maybe, just maybe, Satoru does feel the same for him.
“Do I have to? It’s like that because you’re Suguru. That’s all that matters.”
Suguru doesn’t even know what to say to that and when he stays silent for too long Satoru blinks up at him.
“That’s not the answer you wanted to hear,” he eventually says and Suguru shakes his head.
“No, it’s just—”
“You’ve been thinking too hard for a while now,” Satoru says, clearly having noticed more than he normally lets on. “Always when we’re together. Tell me what it is, so you can give your poor mind a rest.”
“Unlike your mind, mine is used to working so it doesn’t bother me,” Suguru gives back, falling back on their banter so easily, even as his heart pounds in his chest.
Maybe Satoru is right; this feels natural. Maybe this is all that they need.
“You’re doing it again,” Satoru accuses him and Suguru can’t even refute his words.
“I’m just wondering—when does it stop feeling natural?” he asks, lacking the words to tell Satoru what he truly feels and going by the look on Satoru’s face he knows that Suguru is evading something.
“Never,” Satoru replies immediately, not even wasting a single second to think about it and his earnest ways honestly make Suguru despair a little bit.
“So say we were to hold hands,” Suguru cautiously says and as if it was a request rather than an inquiry Satoru instantly reaches out for Suguru’s hand, threading their fingers together before he nods, clearly satisfied.
“Natural.”
Suguru feels as if his heart is beating out of his chest and he wonders just how Satoru cannot suffer the same.
“And what if we were to kiss?” Suguru asks after swallowing heavily and the only thing that prevents his hands from shaking is the grip Satoru has on him.
Suguru knows Satoru finally caught on to what Suguru means when his eyes light up and he lets out a little ‘Ah’, more breath than actual words, but he just as instantly knows that all his worries were for nothing because Satoru’s smile turns wide and happy and as soft as Suguru rarely sees.
“Also natural,” Satoru gives back, squeezing Suguru’s hand. “Is that what you’ve been worried about?” he then asks and Suguru lets out a little desperate chuckle.
“You never seem to think about things, you always just do. I can’t just—I’m not the same.”
“No,” Satoru agrees as he sits up. “You always overthink things.” He rearranges himself so that he properly sits in Suguru’s lap, pressing a kiss to Suguru’s temple. “But it’s always natural with you. Everything is natural with you, because it’s you.”
“So,” Suguru goes on, his voice only shaking the slightest bit, “if I were to call you my boyfriend—” he trails off, not quite daring to finish the question, but of course Satoru knows what he wants, what he means, because somehow Satoru always does.
“Then that would make me very happy, because it just feels right and true and like a given. The sky is blue, I love you, and you’re my boyfriend,” Satoru happily says and Suguru can’t understand how he can say it so easily, as if it doesn’t cost him anything, as if he has done it a hundred times already.
“How can you be so—” Suguru doesn’t know how to encompass Satoru’s entirety into words but when he cuts himself off with a groan it only makes Satoru laugh.
“Easy,” Satoru gives back and this time when he leans close, his lips find Suguru’s. “Because I’m yours. And you’re Suguru, which means you’re mine.”
Suguru can only blink at that. Satoru says it as if it’s a given; as if just the fact that Suguru is makes him Satoru’s and maybe he’s not wrong about that.
Maybe it is just as simple as that—Satoru and Suguru belong together, SatoruandSuguru, because it feels right, it feels natural—and all of Suguru’s overthinking was for naught.
He can’t even be mad about it, about the days and weeks he lost to his brooding despite the answer being right there in front of him, being as obvious as the sun in the sky, because in the end, he still has Satoru, in his lap, in his hands, in his heart and as long as that is the case, things will be alright.