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2024-09-26
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my love. my dream. mine.

Summary:

He only knows to listen for it because of the endless sleepless nights he's spent listening for the twins' nightmares. It startles him and he watches Satoru’s shoulders trembling and realizes the sound is coming from him.

Oh.

Satoru is…

Satoru is crying.

 

To love. To dream. To have.

Notes:

I don't know what this is. Just that I needed to stop everything and write this immediately. It's rushed and messy and very impulsive and...I still adore it. Somehow.

I hope you do, too.

♥️

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

There is no room on this planet for anything less than a miracle...

- Mahogany L. Browne, This is the Honey. 

 

 

 

A week before Satoru’s twenty-fifth birthday, Suguru gives him the ring.

Well, he doesn’t give it to him. Not strictly. Not anymore than Satoru, who’s as inquisitive as a mouse, finds it while he's rummaging through Suguru’s clothes for something to wear.

The blue satin box is right there. Right where it has lain for ten months, three weeks, five days and eight hours. Engraved with Satoru’s initials on the top.

Suguru walks into the room, about to ask Satoru what he wants for lunch. He has to immediately swallow both the question and a fit of coughing at what he sees. His heart leaps to his throat as soon as Satoru curiously picks out the box from between Suguru’s baggy sweatshirts. Cornflower blue eyes go a little wide when he sees his name on it, but they share initials and he still hasn't opened the box...so, he just appears confused after a moment.

He looks at Suguru with a raised eyebrow and the curve of his mouth soft in question.

“Suguru…?”

Suguru, unable to understand what else he can do right now, just nods.

“It’s…” He pauses. Swallows his heart back down. “I…for you. It's for you.”

He gestures for Satoru to open the box.

Satoru’s fingers trail tentatively over the characters of his own name, half as if he’s terrified to open it. Half as if he knows what to expect. He flips the latch slowly and Suguru's world has now slown to a crawl.

When Satoru looks down at the little velvet cushion, Suguru thinks he can count the dust motes that seem to have frozen inside the rays of sunlight coming in from the open windows of their shared bedroom. 

The silence stretches and stretches and stretches. Satoru says nothing. He stays like that, hair framing his face, box open on his palm, expression unreadable.

Suguru is very, very close to fainting when he hears the soft sound, like a child’s sob in deep sleep, like a dream, a whisper. He only knows to listen for it because of the endless sleepless nights he's spent listening for the twins' nightmares. It startles him and he watches Satoru’s shoulders trembling and realizes the sound is coming from him.

Oh.

Satoru is…

Satoru is crying.

As Suguru watches, a few fat, glittering tears fall onto the open box. They slide over the shining surface of the ring – carved of metal as dark as a midnight sky; set with a few rare stars at its heart –and leave their transparent imprints over Satoru’s hands.

Terror seizes his throat immediately, sharp and acrid. Suguru’s feet take him to Satoru instinctively. Heart beating fast. Mind already made up to comfort and soothe him from whatever has made him upset, to take away the…this...this offending thing that has, for some reason, made Satoru cry.

I made Satoru cry, he thinks. His heart twists, painfully. His own throat chokes up, feels tight, but it doesn’t matter.

If Satoru doesn’t like it, doesn’t want it, Suguru will ensure he never has to even see the ring again, even if he does not know what it is about this that’s made Satoru so unhappy that he’s crying.

Satoru never cries.

Suguru’s mind flies over the possibilities, even as he gets an arm around Satoru’s shoulders. Rubbing a palm soothingly up and down his quivering back. Like this, he can feel how badly Satoru trembles and it scares him half to death.

Was it too much? They are very young, still. It’s why he was hesitant to show the ring to Satoru before this. Buying it wasn't an act of impulse, though. He wanted it. He saved up for it. Searched for the perfect one for days and days and days. Suguru knows, has always known that there will never be anyone else for him, not in this life, nor any other, but...maybe this was something they should have spoken about together first? 

He feels a flash of trepidation. 

Maybe I should've remembered that it's not easy for him now. It's a risk now. To his reputation. Even to his life. To be with me like that. If anyone found out-

Suguru isn't one for insecurities like this, not when Satoru holds nothing against him but...

Given that execution order on his head, he's also not exactly the ideal match for the golden child of the jujutsu world. Is he?

Has he overstepped? Made things more difficult for Satoru? Is this too intimate and presumptuous a gift, even if they're each other's in all but name?

But Satoru's the one who keeps saying how much he’d like for them to be married – maybe, Satoru must not have meant right away – but he’s closer to Suguru that anyone ever has been, the most precious person in Suguru’s life – and oh fuck, he's still crying and Suguru’s heart jackrabbits and how does he make this bett–

Satoru turns to look at him then and all thoughts die on Suguru’s tongue. Fall away before he can shape them into questions. The dust motes resume their restless swirling through the sunshine. His free hand, reaching out to take the box away from Satoru’s, freezes midair.

Satoru draws the box against his chest, away from Suguru’s reach. Holds it possessively to his chest.

“Suguru…”

His cheeks are wet. Lips quivering. There is such reverent adoration in his blue eyes, so raw and so beautiful, that it takes the breath from Suguru’s lungs, draws out an exhale of “Satoru”, in response.

It's a lot like being punched in the gut. Except Satoru never pulls his punches and Suguru feels the blow all the way to the back of his throat. 

He has been witness to each private, intimate moment of Satoru shedding the cold, unaffected exterior that he wears like armour for the rest of the world. Around Suguru, he’s never needed any of that. Suguru has no need for a Gojō who can carry the weight of the world.

All he needs, has ever needed, is a Satoru to hold onto, for the rest of their lives.

And yet, even Suguru has never seen his Satoru so…so… vulnerable. Laid bare, as if his very soul were spread out, waiting to be seen and held.

While all speech has abandoned Suguru completely, Satoru smiles through his tears, sniffling. His voice is a hoarse croak. Sweet music for Suguru’s ears.

“What’s this for.”

He's looking now at the plain silver chain that’s been threaded through the ring and Suguru shrugs, smiling. Flushing a little. 

“I…well. I just thought it might be easier like that. You could wear it around your neck. If no one can see it, you won’t have to worry about explaining why you’re suddenly wearing a ring on your finger." Seeing the tiny frown starting to form between Satoru’s fair eyebrows, Suguru hastens to explain. "I don't want us to be a secret. But I. You know it's better that way, Satoru. I don't want you to...I never want you to be hurt because of...me. Us. With what I am right now, I don't want anyone to–”

Satoru reaches a shaking hand and gets his trembling fingers around Suguru’s wrist. Grip firm. His voice is heavy with all the love in the world and he shakes his head.

“Oh, you. What I am proud of most is being yours, Suguru. For me, you're just you. Just Suguru. I would end worlds for you, stupid." As easily sworn as he always swears he will bring Suguru his favourite brand of coffee from the convenience store. He laughs and the sound lances through Suguru’s core. "And who's gonna hurt me? Or you? If they find out, let them. No one's laying a hand on you. Ever. I won't let them. I don't care about what anyone else thinks. Do you?"

Suguru shakes his head, dazed. Hardly able to believe it. If this is a dream, he never wants to wake up. But then, Satoru’s leaning in. Eyes tender. Lashes fluttering like heavy white moths. Kissing him on the cheek. The corner of his mouth. Very briefly, on the lips.

The sweet stickiness of his chapstick lingers on Suguru's skin and the dream sighs itself awake. Awake into a reality sweeter than anything Suguru could've dreamt of.

"Now. I think you’ve kept what’s mine hidden away from me for too long. Far, far too long.”

He holds out the box for Suguru to take.

“Won’t you put it on me?”

Suguru does.

 

 

Within a week of doing so, he's got a matching ring of his own. Subtle white metal with accents of stunning onyx black. A twin. Made perfectly to match Satoru’s own. Tucked carefully away beneath the folds of his robes, hidden from all prying eyes.

Satoru’s ring should stay a secret for more practical reasons, no matter how much the other man has tried to convince him otherwise. On some things, Suguru will not be swayed and this is one of them. He cannot promise pacifism if anyone were to ever try and use Satoru’s one tenderness as a weapon against him. Best for everyone if they simply stay out of this little safe place Suguru’s built so painstakingly for his one and only and the beautiful, beloved children they share between them.

His own reasons to keep his ring hidden, however, are rather personal. He's simply too possessive a man to have anyone even lay their undeserving eyes on this. Satoru gave this to him and Satoru is Suguru’s. Everything of his, given or taken, is also Suguru’s. Only and wholly.

Suguru does not like to share. He never has and he won't start now. Apparently, they are now wedded to each other. 

How wonderful, he thinks, dazed, touching the ring where it sits pretty and at home, nestled at the hollow of his throat, with careful, loving fingers. He's touched it for what must be the hundredth time today.

Suguru cares little about that.

Satoru gave this to him.

Each time he touches it, feels just like the first. Sometimes, it scares him. It's a fleeting fear. It always passes. It's just...just...

Suguru is unused to such constant happiness. Such love. The kind that Satoru has filled him with. Right to the brim. Like a pitcher about to spill. Butteflies on a warpath through his ribs. Hundreds. Millions. Blue.

What to do with it? Where to put it? Helplessly, he buries his face into Satoru’s neck. Satoru who read each of their four children to sleep, tonight. Satoru, who is asleep beside him, now. Satoru, who is clutching one of Suguru’s hands to his face like he, too, is afraid that Suguru might slip away in the dark and leave him loveless in a too-cold, too-empty bed.

He nuzzles right into that soft, sweet-smelling skin. That’s a safe place.

Satoru is a safe place.

Sometimes, Suguru feels like his heart might give out beneath it all. He touches the ring again. Touches the one that gleams in the dip of Satoru’s chest.

Then, he touches Satoru’s pretty face with his hot and cold fingertips.

“I love you. Do you know that? Do I tell you enough? I love you, Satoru."

He whispers and Satoru sighs softly in his sleep, curling in on himself like a human comma.

Suguru keeps his voice low. So low that even the wind outside cannot eavesdrop on them. His words are perching like birds on the inner curve of Satoru’s ear. Of everything he owns, this is most precious secret to Suguru’s name. His love, his.

Satoru.

His.

He feels heavy with his longing, even with Satoru cradled in his arms.

Yet, every time he so much as starts to even think of this as a dream, Satoru breathes again. Heart nestled and beating warm against Suguru's. Reminding him. Reminding him. A rhythm. A song. A call of his name in the dark.

Suguru. Suguru, I am here. I am here. I am right here.

This is real.

This is real.

 

 

 

 

I have love and dreams, too.

- Satoru Gojō. (Jujutsu Kaisen).

 

 

Notes:

And I will try to fulfill each little one of those dreams in my own little way. 🌸

No goodbyes here because I quite literally paused editing one of my longer fics to write this one. I'm going nowhere. I'm far from done with my blue-eyed menace. Since the manga has now ended, I am unofficially the new author (just kidding, please don't sue me, I'm poor) for now and as long as fanfiction and my absolute sweethearts of readers exist.

I hope you all liked reading this, as rushed and brief as it is! I cried before writing it and during too, so any errors are because of my blurry eyes. I hope this made you smile. If he was real and around, I'd hope it would make him smile too, to see that he was neither forgotten nor left behind.

Rather, he was loved. Always, always loved. And by so many.

Thank you so much for reading this! And, I guess I have to say this now, so....all criticisms and practical takes momentarily aside...

Thank you, Akutami Gege.

No one has hurt me like you have or fascinated, bewildered, maddened and thrown me off, like you did. It hurt like hell and frankly I don't know what happened in the last chapters, but this manga is something I found at a difficult time in my life. I owe a lot to it. It gave me an outlet. It gave me Satoru. Suguru. The actual courage to start writing and posting here. A beautiful, lovely and supportive community of fellow writers and readers. Purpose, even. For now, all I feel is that. What a journey it's been. What a journey left to look forward to.

For what it's worth, I had fun. For what it's worth, I hope to never stop writing for this fandom. This truly was my Jujutsu Kaisen. Until next time and the next idea, readers. Take care and hold onto your dreams with a hope that is fierce. They deserve to be held. To come true.

Love,
Mel.
🦋