Archive of Our Own

Pocky tastes horrible. Especially the chocolate kind. That's an obvious fact, at least if you passed first grade. Pocky had a variety of flavors, and yet, the chocolate kind was probably the worst one they'd ever made.

It was always a smidge bit bitter in the first bite, even if it got better the more Satoru ate. Why should he have to wait for it to get better? He should be able to enjoy it immediately, like the Oreo and strawberry versions! Now those were really good, and honestly, he thinks chocolate Pocky shouldn't exist if strawberry already does.

What good does it bring anyone when the sweetest flavor imaginable is already there? Isn't that the whole point anyway? What more could anyone want if not the instant fluff of pure sugar sticking to your teeth?

"Satoru, are you for real?"

Very real, actually. What would Suguru know about the endless flavors of Pocky? he bets dumb bangs doesn't even know there's a banana-flavored Pocky.

Satoru huffs, narrowing his eyes at the other boy incredulously. Suguru was blinking at him like he couldn’t believe someone had actually thought that, let alone said it out loud. (Satoru supposes everyone gets shocked when they're proven wrong from time to time. It's never happened to him, of course, but he's sympathetic 'cause he's a good friend.)

Despite clearly being wrong, Suguru's expression was as if Satoru was a circus monkey, and it was beginning to make him want to tackle the idiot in this konbini.

"hah? Is there anything wrong with what I said?"

Suguru wordlessly turns around, his shoulders shaking. The summer wind has already knocked his bun slightly loose. They'd biked here together, with Satoru almost getting them both killed from yelling, "Faster or you're a loser, and your bangs are ugly!"

Suguru hadn't appreciated the last part very much; i.e., him zooming down a steep hill with Satoru clinging to his waist, no helmets in sight.

What a drama queen.

"Chocolate isn't bitter, Satoru. That's the opposite of what it should be."

Suguru says slowly, as if Satoru doesn't speak Japanese. What really gets him, though, is the slight curve of Suguru's lips just begging to bloom into a grin.

"That's my point! It's bitter when it shouldn't be!"

He all but yells, throwing his hands up in exasperation. Really, is Satoru speaking some other language? Last he checked, he could speak Japanese, and the other sorcerer could understand it.

Unless his best friend decided to forget his mother tongue in a matter of seconds, but he's too much of a goody-goody ("oh look, Satoru, I got one point higher than you") to do that.

Suguru sighs, pressing his thumb into the middle of his temple, digging his nail into it a little, the way he does when Satoru says something stupid or he's getting a headache. His uniform is lightly drenched; granted, they'd just finished a mission all the way in Aogashima, and it was a pain in the ass to find a bike rental, let alone a whole functional store.

Not to mention, the air conditioning in this 7/11 is really getting to him; it's dingy and not the slightest bit relieving! The air barely reaches the middle of the building, only looming over the entrance door.

He wonders how the ice cream isn't melting the whole ocean in the freezer, since it's near the snack aisle, close to where the two teens are, with barely any cold.

"You're not doing anything this weekend, right? I'm pretty sure they're teaching Shoko how to run tests. She said they don't prick you with needles to check for diabetes—"

"—I don't need to get checked! Especially not from Shoko!"

Suguru clicks his tongue, leaning over and smacking the bridge of Satoru's nose with a pack of banana Pocky. And people say Satoru is the meaner one!

"I told you it's rude to interrupt people when they're talking."

Satoru yelps at the impact, nursing the slope of his nose with a frown, lips pulled tight in offense. He really doesn't need to get checked! He's fit, he's not a day over 100 kg, and he doesn't get any tingling in his hands or feet.

"And what's wrong with Shoko checking you? You let her give you a flu shot last week."

As if that was Satoru's choice.

"You made me get a flu shot last week. I'd have kicked your ass if she didn't have me strapped down to a chair."

Suguru lets out an airy laugh, a floaty, pleasant thing that sounds like it was punched out of him.

"You weren't strapped down, idiot. You were just being difficult, so I had to help Shoko a bit."

If 'a bit' meant holding Satoru down to the chair and barricading the door with a broom, it'd be pretty accurate. Satoru's not even sure why Suguru was on his ass about flu shots. What was the problem if Satoru didn't get them? He'd never been sick a day in his 16 years of fighting, so his immune system is faring pretty well, he'd say.

No need for a flu shot, or any shot! He's perfectly fine!

"Yeah, 'helping' really fulfilled your sadist fantasies that time, didn't it?"

Another smack to the nose, making Satoru flinch at the contact a second time. He swears he'll turn on Infinity if Suguru's smug ass even thinks about doing that again!

"Ow! Quit bein' annoying!"

He barks, jutting out his bottom lip in Suguru's direction, watching the other boy chuckle in response and turn on his shoulder to get the rest of what they'd probably need for tonight.

He, Suguru, and Shoko more often than not had sleepovers where the three would stuff their faces til one of them limped over to the bathroom, the other two ridiculing the loser who couldn't keep it in.

All three of them ended up slouching over the toilet at various times in the night, though, so really it's only a matter of not being the first to spill their guts.

Satoru had picked the movie lineup this time (as he always does): Microwave Massacre (he'd found the DVD in the back of some storage closet, though he's not sure where and which one, and why he even picked it up), followed by Ring, and lastly, closing out with Shark Attack 3: Megalodon.

It's a wide selection, and Satoru's quite proud of the very carefully curated list if he must say so himself (it was a 5 whole minutes of thought!) He's not one for watching a whole lot of American films—the clan barely had those dvd players he'd spot in shop windows—but ever since he came to Tokyo Tech, he's been keen on watching as many as he can to make up for the ones he's missing out on, and so, drum roll, cue the sleepovers with his two friends.

Suguru plops shrimp chips in the cart, a couple of boxes of Pocky (a bunch of chocolate ones just to spite him). and rice crackers that look like they'd go great with some sweet'n'sour sauce.

Buuut. The spread was pretty skimpy, in Satoru's opinion.

He needs to show his dear best friend the proper way to shop for snacks; it's his duty, or he can't even call himself Suguru's friend!

Sauntering over to the other aisle teeming with bags of chips and chocolate, Satoru grabbed anything with vibrant packaging (and interesting flavor combinations, of course, like Ube and white chocolate!) and dropped it into the cart without much thought. Suguru had let out a sound of indignation, but Satoru just ignored it.

Stupid bangs, he's doing him a favor and helping him be much cooler, like Satoru.

But instead of dropping to his knees and thanking him for being oh so gracious and benevolent, Suguru only scoffs and raises an eyebrow at him, the familiar uptick of his lips visible from where the other is turned around slightly.

"Satoru, we really can't buy this much. Shoko almost passed out the last time we ate like this…"

"Not my fault, she's weak!"

If Shoko were here, Satoru definetely would be hauled off to the ICU in a matter of seconds. For a grade two, she's pretty strong, like, she could totally pack a punch if she really wanted to.

Suguru snorts, and that same, dreamy chuckle slips his lips as he bumps the basket stuffed with random snacks against Satoru's hip.

"Stop calling people weak. You know this is why all our freshmen avoid you, right?"

No, they do not! They're just shy, and Satoru damn well knows it. Why would anyone not wanna see a gorgeous face like his?

Even if Suguru is smiling at him, all smug like he's in on some inside joke with himself, he knows nobody can deny he's pretty; he's gotten a rather sizeable amount of attention for his looks with and without the fox-eyed boy.

After all, it's not every day a 194 cm hot snow-haired guy roams the street! So of course, they'd avoid him.

Nobody touches beautiful things; they’re scared they’ll mess it up somehow, like carefully catching a snowflake on your finger and praying it doesn't tip over.

So, the sun is white (it is.), the sky is blue, and Suguru is just wrong and a big fat liar.

Satoru is not above him, though.

"Like I care. They don't avoid me,"

he huffs, adding,

"Didn't know growin' up with old geezers make you a stupid old liar like them."

Suguru pauses, tilting his head to the side with that fox-eyed smile of his.

. . .

"Did you guys fight again?"

Shoko drawls, even if she knew the answer. Her nasty ass cigarette perched between her lips more like an accessory than anything else.

Satoru wonders why she even goes through the hassle of smuggling them (or stealing? He has a running theory on how she probably just takes them and books it out of the store. He wouldn't hold it above her nature.)

Satoru had his brows furrowed, a pout on his face, twinning with Suguru.

"Nah. He's just an impulsive little prince—"

"Me? I'm the impulsive one? You got us kicked out, Satoru! The cashier wasn't even there!"

Shoko's eyes drift over to the wide patio window near the head of Satoru's bed, admiring how the sunlight slithers through the dusty floorboards, almost like when someone shines blue light onto a crime scene to reveal scrubbed-out blood.

It's always surprising how much dust is all around them—

ah. Satoru is daydreaming again.

"I didn't get us kicked out, you did cause you pinched my waist like a total perv!"

Cause he really did, like a real experienced perv at that! Not that he blames Suguru, of course, Satoru is delectable. Practically walking sin, it's impossible not to touch.

Suguru only huffs, crossing his arms defensively and narrowing his eyes at him.

"Who are you calling a pervert?"

"You and your stupid bangs!"

It's no surprise Satoru and Suguru ended up on the floor in a tangle of limbs yet again. It's bound to happen like the sun is drawn to set.

Suguru's shoving down his shoulders, knees on either side of Satoru's hips, while Satoru's yanking at his hair, trying to tug a few strands out of that bun. His feet thrashed, trying to get his knees to slam into the base of Suguru's spine since the other boy was sitting on his belly.

God, he's heavy as hell.

"So heavy! Get off, fatass!"

That only made Suguru tighten his thighs, his weight like a truckload of watermelons on Satoru. The bastard only gazes down at Satoru, who was pouting at being caged like an angry cat.

Suguru huffs before he full-on chuckles, eyes creased up in amusement. He looks like a fox every time he smiles with his eyes like that—is it on purpose?

There's no way someone can naturally look like that. No way!

…Satoru doesn't really feel so annoyed anymore.

Suguru eases up on Satoru's shoulders just a tad, enough to let him breathe, and as if on cue, Shoko scoffs and peers down at Satoru's face, one hand on her hip and the other holding some dvd in her hand. He can vaguely see the microwave drawn on the front.

It looked funky upside down.

"What is this? It looks like an xxx-rated film."

Satoru pauses at that, relaxing under Suguru's weight. It's familiar, almost like a blanket on top of him.

Satoru doesn't know when he got so used to having him so close like this.

"Satoru, it's indecent to watch that kinda thing so close to Obon*. Have some shame."

Suguru snickers; the teasing little lilt is almost catlike in how smug it is. Jeez… the cover of the dvd isn't that bad…

He shoves at Suguru's forearm, a scowl plastered over his face. Idiot, he's smirking as if Satoru would actually bring back wanking material to watch with the other two.

…he totally would, but as a joke! And he really, really was looking forward to this sleepover; they all haven't had a free day in a month, almost, so he wouldn't pull a prank like that right now. And besides, that cover is way too obvious. Too much like those weird fetish erotica in the back of the shop behind curtains—not that Satoru knows what one looks like.

"It—It's not, you asshole!"

"ehh? really?"

The other boy purrs, hand snaking up to Satoru's neck—those slender fingers of his are always so cold during the summer heat—all the way up to the shell of his ear, which, Satoru registers are hot as a whole pack of handwarmers, brushing past the rims of his sunglasses.

"You'd really get this red over a regular film?"

He snickers, thumbing at Satoru's heated lobe,

"Is our Satoru finally growing up? Ah, Shoko, I think it's time we taught him about proper coitus."

"Hmm, guess so."

She clears her throat, shifting her position so she's holding up a two in the air, the dvd tucked in her armpit, and in an even tone, she says,

"When a mommy and a daddy really love each other—"

Satoru shoves at Suguru's stomach, the other briefly stumbling back a bit before bursting out into soft laughter at whatever expression Satoru must have on his face.

"Oi! Shut up! I know what it is!"

Shoko grins, walking off over to the dvd player, crouching down to take the cd out of the case, inserting it into the mold made for it.

"See if I watch anything with you dumbasses again…"

Satoru mutters under his breath, watching as Suguru laughs with a balled knuckle close to his lips, likely to hide just how stupidly self-satisfied his smirk is. He's a megabitch.

"You're like a little dog, you know? so much bark, barely enough bite."

He remarks, all soft-like in that haze after laughing his ass off, that Satoru would almost regard it as a compliment if he didn't understand what Suguru was saying.

"Freak, are you asking to be bit?"

Satoru grumbles, pushing himself up on his elbows as Suguru shifts, allowing Satoru to be a little more comfortable beneath him.

Suguru is about to respond, but the TV's sound filters through the room, grabbing both of their attentions.

Shoko crawls over to the two, sitting next to them with her knees bunched to her chest, that cigarette still dangling from her lips.

"Suguru, get off,"

he whines, and the other boy sighs but complies, getting off of Satoru so he could be the one being used as a bed instead. Satoru's head is on Suguru's stomach, all warm and firm.

Sometimes, Satoru thinks Suguru feels like yokan, smells nice like one too. His legs are sprawled, one curled up while the other is straight out, lying belly down with his cheek pressed against Suguru's uniform.

Shoko crawls over to where Satoru's sprawled, laying her head on his side, using him like a pillow.

Her cigarette isn't lit anymore, but she still has it dangling from her mouth. It looks all worn out and nasty. He wonders why Shoko willingly puts herself through that.

The film carries on, and the three of them settle into what would probably be their positions for the entire night.

They're all huddled with Suguru's back pressed against the foot of Satoru's bed, Satoru using him as a pillow and Shoko using him as one in turn, the scene dragging on. (ridiculously so, like, holy, the budget must've been 100 yen and a shit ton of sake, because god Satoru can't stop commenting on how awful everything is that it's good.)

Suguru's hand finds its rightful place in Satoru's mop of hair, carding through unruly snow like his fingers are carefully treading around in the fluff.

The other had a habit of toying with his hair, and honestly, Satoru thinks Suguru isn't even aware of it. It feels good, though, to have his nails lightly scratching his scalp.

It makes him oddly sleepy, even if his mouth is running off on how lame and amazing this film is.

. . .

"My favorite was definitely Shark Attack 3."

Satoru remarks sleepily, in a tangled heap of limbs with Shoko and Suguru. They were too lazy to get the snacks Satoru and Suguru had gone out and bought, so the three's stomachs were spared for now.

Shoko had fallen asleep at around the beginning of Shark Attack 3, and woke up around when they began Ring. She fell back asleep during the credits, though, so now she's sleeping soundly against Satoru's side, content to use the other as a body pillow.

Suguru hums, knuckles brushing up against the shell of Satoru's ear almost mindlessly,

"You talked through the whole thing. I think I liked Ring better."

Satoru breathes out through his nose, shoving his face further into Suguru's stomach. The other only toys with Satoru's earlobe again, moving around to graze his fingers into Satoru's nape, making him slightly shiver.

"uuugh. Your opinions are laame."

His voice muffles through the raven's uniform, dragging out his words petulantly. He really feels like it isn't a proper sleepover without something in his belly, preferably something sweet.

"Buuut, you can be a little less lame if you get me a box of Pocky,"

He adds on, 'cause on top of just being a glutton, he is kinda hungry. They hadn't stopped for much food after Aogashima, and Satoru had skipped out on breakfast since he'd stayed up too late grinding out Digimon Cyber Sleuth and slept through his alarm.

Alll worth it, anyway, he got his Veedramon to ExVeemon, and now all he has to do is get his Lilymon to Rosemon, towards his goal of Rosemon BM for a solid healer. Her stats are just what he needs for his mostly DPS-focused team. It's a real pain in the ass to think about getting various types of hard damage mons. (not hard hard, since it is Satoru we're talking about here).

Ultimately, his goal is to get to Lililithmon, and he's already working towards it by getting Black Gatomon and following down that evolution route.

He snaps out of his thought process when he feels the press of cold cardboard on his cheek and blinks out of his deep focus as he glances at the object being pressed into his skin.

Ah, Pocky!

He perks up, grabbing the box from Suguru. He hadn't even noticed him move to grab it!

"See? Now you're not so lame."

Satoru chirps, fiddling with the box of strawberry Pocky and ripping open the packet it's in, shifting carefully to sit up, if only a little under Shoko's weight.

He doubts she'd wake up even if Satoru kicked her head, but he happens to be in a good mood, so he won't test that theory out.

"Would a small please hurt you, Satoru-bocchama?"

Suguru adds on playfully, his hand back in Satoru's hair, and he hadn't noticed how much he noticed the absence of his fingers until the other is back to toying with the mess of snow.

"Well, you get it anyway, what's the point?"

Satoru mumbles through the stick between his lips, dangling it obnoxiously up at Suguru since he knows the other is looking at him, even if it's gotten dark enough that he doesn't quite know where Suguru's looking. He can always feel his gaze more than see it, anyway.

Suguru only sighs, as if Satoru is a handful (what an absurd idea), and shakes his head in response, flicking at Satoru's forehead gently.

"You become more of a brat as the days go by."

Suguru remarks, albeit soft and sleepy, lacking the usual teasing lift in his voice. It's not surprising; he and Suguru have been out almost the whole day on that mission.

Tracking the stupid curse took half the day, and the travel there was even longer since they'd gone on a whole ferry and everything.

More like a boat than a ferry, but whatever. Yaga didn't like it when Satoru pointed that out, even if, really, the difference is important, but old geezers never really think about much detail. They didn't think much about anything.

"You become more of an ass."

Satoru replies to Suguru's jab, nibbling at the stick with a grin.

Suguru flicks him again with a soft chuckle, his free hand moving to lightly tug at the pocky stick between his lips, to which Satoru whines and tries to eat it faster.

Suguru's just bothering him, he knows, knows that he can put up infinity just as easily to get him to stop.

He doesn't, though, so he triumphantly manages to eat the entire stick in record time. Even Suguru seems entertained, waiting for Satoru to get another one out. He does, toying with the package a little as he pulls out another stick.

The hand that's not in Satoru's hair reaches to grab a stick for himself, but Satoru hugs it closer to his belly, denying Suguru access to sweet heaven.

"Satoru, quit being difficult,"

Suguru huffs, trying to reach again, so Satoru slides it under his waist, jostling around his twisted up body cause he's really contorted right now, with his legs almost like tingling stone beneath Shoko's weight. It's easy enough to ignore.

He holds out a pocky stick to Suguru's lips, tapping it against the bottom one,

"Open up!"

Satoru purrs, tilting his head to the side with a shit-eating grin.

The other narrows his eyes, surely about to scold Satoru or shove him off of him entirely, but nope. He parts his lips with an exhale through his nose, almost as if he's given up on policing Satoru around for the night.

He's almost startled how easily Suguru just gave in, if not for the fact that it's not the first time they've fed each other when the two of them were seconds away from dropping out cold from exhaustion.

Satoru pauses momentarily, watches as Suguru's lips remain parted, waiting for the bite of the sweet strawberry Satoru's holding against his lips.

This angle kinda reminds him of a thing he saw in a film they'd watched a while back, where the guy and the girl were biting the ends of a Pocky stick and getting progressively closer, until one of them backed up, like a game of chicken!

He can't quite remember the name of the film; maybe he'd fallen asleep during it?

Anyway, he couldn't care less about the name, he's curious enough to try it out himself, and because he's bored as hell, he retracts the stick and holds it between the two, leaving Suguru confused enough to open his eyes with a frown.

"Ne, Suguru, wanna play a game of chicken?"

He drawls, apparently suspicious enough to make Suguru's eyebrow rise warily. Suguru pauses, and when Satoru doesn't continue—

"…a game of chicken."

He repeats incredulously, but he still waits for Satoru to elaborate on what he means, because he doesn't say anything after. Satoru is more than happy to rope Suguru into this because he knows for a fact Suguru is probably just as bored as he is!

"Jeez, you don't know what that is, grandpa?"

Neither does Satoru; he's not even sure if this counts as a game of chicken, but that's besides the point.

"Like, we bite the ends of the stick, and we keep going, and the first to chicken out loses."

Satoru explains, waving the stick around the tiny space between their chests. He figures Suguru would be on board easily, since it's not that hard to convince Suguru to skip class with him on most occasions, or sneak out to go into town and roam the strip, hell, even prank Yaga.

But for some reason, Suguru's staring at the ceiling, deep in thought, like he's been asked what he'd do to cure world hunger instead of playing a game with his best friend.

"I'm not sure that's…a good idea…"

Suguru says carefully, in a way that makes Satoru pout. He sounds like he's holding back, and he knows how much Satoru hates it when Suguru gets all hesitant on him!

So naturally, Satoru will also do something he knows Suguru hates.

"Why? Are you chicken?"

A sigh.

"That's not—"

"Bawk, bawk, I'm Suguru and I'm a chicken,"

"Satoru—"

"Ne, do me and Shoko need to build you a coop? Dunno if Yaga would allow it. But if you lay some tasty eggs—"

Suguru grabs the stick of Pocky from his hand and all but shoves it against Satoru's lips, biting at the end, which isn't coated in strawberry chocolate.

He looks at Satoru, all peeved, giving him a look that screams, fine, have it your way.

Satoru grins, leaning forward a little, trying to sit up further until his head is just a little angled, appearing shorter than Suguru just for now. Damn Shoko and her heavy ass.

Suguru's eyes are boring into his own, even in the darkness, fixated on the stick of strawberry that melts against Satoru's tongue. That, or somewhere else entirely, and Satoru can't tell where the other is looking in the dark.

He's positive he doesn't care. Actually, he kinda does. Maybe. Whatever, Suguru can stare all he wants, anywhere he wants, but it's only fair that, in return, Satoru gets to stare back?

Yeah, sounds about right.

So, he does.

Suguru's eyes look like a whole field of purple peonies. He'd thought his eyes were something interesting, but the moment he saw Suguru, in that short-ish hair of his in their first year, and like that, all of those preconceived notions flew off and went to who knows where, definitely not in Satoru's mind anymore.

It's the most brilliant shade of purple he's seen, one he can paint blind, know the exact hexcode of, if anyone ever asks. Knows when he's about to hurl, but he won't say (it's easy enough to tell). Knows when he's upset, when Satoru crossed the line, knows the exact shade when he's all fox-eyed and grinning, smiling so wide whenever Satoru does something stupid.

It's not even the six eyes, they can't grant him this kind of knowledge, he just—he just knows—knows it deep in his chest, that he'd recognize and name every contour of the boy in front of him with his hands behind his back, no six eyes, blind, deaf, in every and any circumstance.

Satoru figures it's only normal that happens—this knowing—when two people are as close as they are.

Shoko is there too, of course, but Suguru is the one who really… gets him, if that's the right word for it. He's the one Satoru would spar with, would shove around in the bath house and fight with, would play video games with.

He's his best friend, his sole equal, his one and only.

Suguru bites at the stick first, and that really jostles Satoru out of any thoughts he's been having.

The distance between them was definitely less than it had been a second ago, huh? since…since yeah, physics and all. He bit the mass of the stick, and the length decreased, and that means Suguru's face is closer to his—

Why the hell had Satoru thought this was a good idea?

Whatever! He can't go back! He's not a chicken; he can and will win. Satoru's not used to losing anything in his damn life, and he sure as hell doesn't wanna start now.

And so, with that, he angled his head up from its awkward position, biting off another portion of the treat.

The strawberry tastes like something akin to ecstasy, like it always does. Satoru has loved the sweetness of the strawberry since forever, and how it clings to every little crevice in his teeth.

But, for some reason, he can't quite enjoy the cloying strawberry without this awful burning in his ears.

Suguru bites off another portion, eerily still as he keeps on looking at Satoru. (He's not paranoid! He knows Suguru is looking!) He takes another nibble, mirroring Suguru.

The room feels stuffy, in a way it usually does when Satoru and Suguru come back from an hours-long mission, spending their precious time under the unforgiving blaze of the sun above.

But it'd been hours since they'd been back, and there's no reason he should still feel like that. His skin feels like it's gonna crawl off of his bones, melt into a huge puddle, and leave his skeleton behind, peering at Suguru.

Whoa, that's a creepy thought. Especially in the dark after all those films—they weren't scary, but still!

In hindsight, Satoru should have had a light on; screw him and his preference to watch films in the dark, it's making him miss out on getting a glimpse at Suguru's face.

Is he embarrassed? Would his eyes be a different kind of purple? The happy one, or the uncomfortable one?

He really, really wishes the stupid lights were on.

Suguru inches forward—how much had they already bitten off?—enough to where Satoru could feel Suguru's breath puff against the tip of his nose.

It's a funny feeling, it makes him wanna scrunch his nose and turn his head away.

He takes another bite instead.

…Honestly, Satoru forgets what flavor they're even eating, because what else is he supposed to focus on if not for the fact that neither of them is chicken enough to pull back, and the fact that he can practically feel the ghost of Suguru's lips so, so close to his.

Neither of them really makes a move after that; the distance (or the lack thereof) is enough to paralyze the two of them.

But, as he's said before, Satoru is no loser. He's used to winning everything he tries, and this is no different!

Not at all!

He thinks, and yet, he can't move at all. Satoru doesn't know what's gotten into him, like, he's perfectly capable of moving, wants and wants, but doesn't budge a single muscle.

It's like those bright peonies of Suguru's have him pinned up helplessly like a butterfly in a bug collection.

Suguru's eerily still too, and he wonders if the other can feel how sweaty his palms feel, how constricted his chest is, the rapid flutter of his heartbeat in the very ears Suguru loves toying with.

One more bite, and Satoru wins.

One more, and Satoru gets his first kiss, too.

His first kiss with his best friend.

With Suguru.

He figures kissing Suguru is better than kissing some girl, because he knows Suguru wouldn't tease him too much if the kiss ends up being amateur or something. Bonus point: Satoru always makes sure to wear lip balm (vanilla!) because hygiene is pretty attractive.

Shoko'd said it'd make his lips softer, too, and it just seems like a bonus since it tastes pretty good.

So kissing Suguru is fine.

Suguru won't be put off if Satoru tastes like vanilla, right? He remembers Suguru doesn't mind vanilla; the raven even eats vanilla ice cream most of the time if there's no mint or grape. So he can do it! He can do it.

It'll be good for Suguru, good for him, too.

Yeah, yep.

Okay! Satoru's pretty sure he's ready, can't wait to see the look on Suguru's face when he wins, but oh great, Satoru's luck is terrible when he really needs it.

Just when he'd gathered up the mental courage he needed to finally become the victor, he feels Suguru pull away slightly, feels the stick firmer between his teeth as if Suguru's loosened his hold on his end.

His heart sinks, just for a moment, but no, Satoru won't let this end in a stalemate, because… because he just can't!

Satoru leans forward and wins.

And oh.

Winning has never felt so good.

Their lips just press together clumsily from Satoru's haste. A little more clumsily than he'd liked, but it's enough to make Suguru freeze up again. His sunglasses bumped against the tip of Suguru's nose, but the other didn't comment on it.

Satoru swears he can actually feel his heart tear his ribcage open, walk right out, and take every semblance of coherence he's ever had.

Suguru's lips are slightly chapped, the texture of his own against his making him feel lightheaded, almost off kilter, and off pace with his floaty brain.

He immediately pulls back, eyes probably as wide as saucers, swallowing the final minuscule bite of Pocky he had between his lips.

The two don't move, don't even talk, and Satoru gets a sinking, claustrophobic feeling in his chest the longer they stare at each other in the pitch black.

He liked kissing Suguru, no matter how long, he's… he's glad it was Suguru.

He won't ever cough it up, but he'd eat anything out of Suguru's hand, would drop infinity in the middle of a fight if Suguru told him to.

He'd trust him with his life and more, and he knows Suguru feels the same, of course, but that's… different, isn't it?

What if Suguru was waiting to save that moment for a special girl, wanted all the awkward cliches he'd seen in romance anime with her?

He seems like the type—he'd probably buy her roses, the pink kind, kiss her knuckles in private, and shower her with affection from the same lips Satoru suddenly has a craving for.

What if he didn't want Satoru to take that away from him?

What if Satoru just—threw away the only worthwhile relationship in his life? He's not insecure, he's a lot of things but that, knows that it wouldn't hurt anyone to kiss him, and he knows Suguru wouldn't have not enjoyed it…

Or, maybe he didn't?

Maybe he didn't wanna kiss him, didn't want it to be a stupid game. Suguru would've wanted it to be special, right? The whole schtick: under cherry blossoms, on a date in some cliche place like a park with a whole picnic spread with the girl of his dreams or something like that.

Not Satoru.

Not the boy he shoves around in showers.

Not the boy he has sleepovers with and plays video games with.

Not the boy he hangs out with, practically sees every day and night.

That's different.

It is different in so many ways and—

Fuck.

"Suguru—"

he begins, biting his lip, hoping the darkness would veil his barely contained nausea, eyes fixated on some point on his poster-infested wall,

"I, uhm. I won."

he helpfully says, before continuing,

"but—but if you didn't want me to…uh, win, you know.. I'll—I won't brag about it, promise, and… and you can save your first kiss for a chick…"

"Satoru…—"

Satoru continues mumbling, ignoring the pained whisper of his name, his whole neck on fire all the way down his collarbone and the ridges of his spine,

"…that you like. Uhm. She'll be lucky, hah, since you're not really that bad. I'm…better, obviously,"

"Satoru."

"But don't worry, I'll give you pointers 'cause, I told you, I'm better, and um, she'll be impressed 'cause you have uh, potential. And… if it makes you a little less pissed, it wasn't ba—"

Satoru yelps at the way Suguru cups his face, practically squishing him, and before he can get a word out, Suguru's kissing him again. Properly, this time.

Properly, he's pressing his lips against his, properly, leaving some vanilla on Suguru's mouth, oh, Satoru's head is spinning in fifty different directions, and he can't pick which one to stick to.

All he knows is Suguru, Suguru's thumb on the junction of his jaw, pressing firmly but carefully, as if to keep Satoru's mouth in place. He pushes forward, nose bumping against the lenses of Satoru's glasses, almost politely.

Satoru's fist is clenched against his knee, and his palm awkwardly hovering above Suguru's bicep, unable to decide if he needs to anchor himself or float away into this newfound bliss, sloshing around his head and coating every part of his brain.

Even if it's not something to call home about, Satoru finds himself melting anyway, his hand choosing to grip onto his arm, squeezing tight as if he'd really fly away if he let go. Up, up, up, like a kite.

He's all but a cloud, flowing away in a sweet summer breeze and unbearable honeyed warmth washing his being inside out. He feels like his skin is prickling with heat, especially his cheeks, his ears, the entirety of his neck.

Someone could take a match up right to his skin, and come back with a blue flame between their fingers.

Suguru's other hand moves to push up Satoru's sunglasses into his hair, palm pressing softly into the apple of Satoru's cheek as if to feel the heat radiating off of it. He's tilting his head so their noses don't bump every so often anymore, the other boy's bang tickling the edge of Satoru's ear.

He tries to follow Suguru's lead, but this stupid chain smoker is passed out with all her dead weight against Satoru's hip; he can't move much at all, no matter how badly he wants to.

Suguru seems fine with that, though, content to lean down and coax Satoru's mouth open with hesitant, careful pecks, his lips tasting like Satoru's balm.

God, god is this even happening? Like, genuinely, he's tempted to pinch himself, or Suguru, or both of them, but he's too paralyzed by the press of their mouths together to do much of anything.

So much input, too much to handle and process with all of those eyes of his, it feels like he needs six more just to handle this, his brain going haywire with too much actvitiy, too much, too much—

Satoru feels like he's going crazy, he can't help but register the way Suguru's cursed energy flares up just like his—so pretty—all jagged and roiling, like it's as good for the other boy as it is for him. Only the perks of the six eyes, the ability to see energy, perceive the unperceivable.

Usually, that insight pisses him off, kisses his forehead while shoving a basket of migraines in his hands.

But it's not pissing him off. Not even remotely close.

It's exhilarating to be able to see that spike coil in a way he's never seen, the way Suguru's flow is so, so disrupted, more than usual, more than anything Satoru's seen out of the boy…

That knowledge, that simple awareness of Suguru's energy clashing against his makes his head split off into tiny little hemispheres, floating away and away in an ocean of cotton candy.

The bastard only makes it worse by getting bolder—Suguru's tongue timidly sweeps the seams of the other's lips, and Satoru's brain short-circuits, his leg automatically kicking out to the small of Shoko's back with a choked gasp pulled from the pits of his diaphragm.

Shoko lets out a grumble, almost like an annoyed chiuhauha.

Of all the times Shoko could've woken up, now she does?

Satoru could kick her around, poke her cheek, or even shake her awake, and she wouldn't have budged a single muscle, but apparently, when Satoru kicks her accidentally is when she'll stir?

She could sleep through ten alarms, a whole swarm of special grades littering the campus, he bets, but the one thing she can't sleep through is Satoru and Suguru kissing.

Dumb, idiot instincts! Why the hell did his leg have to jerk like that!

As if it couldn't get any worse, Suguru's off him in lightning speed, fast enough to make Satoru think he'd imagined the whole thing cause how the hell had Suguru gotten away that quick?

"Gojo I swear… if you do that again, Utahime will know about those dye pictures."

Shoko grumbles, slapping Satoru's heel and shifting off of him, curling up in a ball on the floor to presume sleeping again.

Satoru can't muster a reply other than a scoff, even if he should be shoving Shoko for bringing up the whole hair dye fiasco. (Suguru and Shoko wanted to dye Satoru's hair blue, to match his eyes, they said. It's not hard to figure out what happened after, and til this day, Satoru would never trust Shoko around a dye bottle ever again.)

He can't really think, even if he should, even if he's good at it, because his lips are wet with spit that isn't his own.

Meaning, Suguru's.

Meaning, they'd kissed. Like, mouth to mouth.

Meaning, they kissed long enough for his lips to be all shiny and feel all puffy like he'd ate something spicy.

They kissed.

Twice.

Oh fuck, it's making him all jittery, his feet flexing and digging into the old wood panels of the dorm floor.

His brain feels like it's slowly oozing out of his ears, going: drip, drip, drip against the floorboards, all soft and airy like clouds.

He can't be the only one who feels this way, no way.

Satoru goes to look at the boy who's responsible for the tingling in his bottom lip, and lo and behold, the idiot is looking away! And, worst of absolute all, Satoru can't decipher what the other boy looks like, no matter how perfect and all-knowing his six eyes are.

They're unfortunately not equipped with night vision—how lame is that?

Satoru tries to get a glimpse, squinting his eyes at Suguru's turned head to see if he's smiling, frowning—anything—but does it work? Nope.

Nothing ever goes Satoru's way when he needs it!

"Satoru…"

Suguru's voice is so loud, even if it's probably the softest sound he's ever heard Suguru make.

Satoru's head perks up, already attentive to Suguru's words in a way he usually never is.

Well, he is, but he's never been so obvious about it.

"I…left my homework in my room…the conditional probability one."

A pause.

"I'll… come back…in a second. Okay?"

Suguru says, voice quivering. It makes Satoru's heart swoop, dangling from a tightrope of his own anxiety.

"…okay."

His own voice sounds weird as he replies, almost like he's got a hole in his lungs and all the air is deflating out of them.

Suguru gets up, his energy twisting into swirls, the distinct uzumaki shapes concentrated all over his head. It looks like a lights show, the way it's moving around so rapidly.

It's almost out of character for the other; his cursed energy is usually so stable, only spiking when he laughs or something like that.

The only time Satoru has seen it get anywhere remotely close to this amount of entropy in his energy is the time he'd tried to prematurely swallow a special grade. Suguru had been on his knees for an hour, puking his guts out, and in a grumpy mood all day that time.

But it's different from sickness, it's not all spiky, muddled with that disrupted pattern some energies usually get when the brain fogs up from illness, and as much as he wants to stare long and hard at his friend's energy flow, Satoru can't really tell because Suguru's walking away so fast, too fast, and all he wants is to yank him back, back with Satoru.

Because why'd Suguru kiss him again?

Did he really like vanilla that much? Did he not wanna upset Satoru? Did he get confused? Did Satoru's lips remind him of kissing a girl cause of the balm? Did he not like it the first time, and he wanted to try and make it better the second?

Did he regret it?

Did he?

Satoru doesn't like thinking so much about what people mean.

He thought it was stupid to debate someone's intentions, really.

Weeelll… he's not sure how reliable that is… it's not that he's had many friends and experience with people, being cooped up in the hellish Gojo shrine he grew up in.

He's just had pleasantries ringing through his ears his whole life, hearing: "yes, of course, Gojo-sama." "Everything looks good on you, Gojo-sama." "You're the strongest sorcerer that's ever lived, Gojo-sama." "I can't do that, Gojo-sama. That wouldn't go by what your grandfather said."

That's all anyone ever said to him in that stupid place.

How great their beloved Gojo-sama is and how strong he'll be, how he's the pinnacle of Jujustu society, God amongst men, the sole blessing of the Gojo clan.

For someone so beloved, honestly, he thought he'd feel it. Their praises fell on closed ears, because seriously, who the hell wants to hear someone sing praises to them the moment they wake up to when they sleep?

Not that Satoru hates praise, no, he loves it, but it felt empty coming from women in kimonos, in prim and proper hairdos trained to handle a young, fussy heir.

On rare occasions, if it wasn't praise, it was berating. "You need to put up Infinity faster, Satoru. Have you not learned from the scrolls?" "What did we tell you about running out on your teachers? Have you no manners?" "That's not fitting behavior for the future of the Gojo clan."

Praise is easier to hear than criticism, obviously.

He knew he wouldn't escape the purrs of his achievements and potential anywhere, but at least, he would be hearing it from old ass weeds long overdue for a funeral.

So when he finally came to Tokyo, he was expecting to just be treated the same, with admiration and flattery, honey shoved down his throat, and a pat on the back just for showing up.

One Suguru Geto contradicted that, much to Satoru's (eventual) delight.

Suguru's the only one to actually speak his mind around Satoru, with Shoko as another exception.

He's the one who'd have the balls to smack Satoru and pinch his ear, tell him to address his seniors more formally. The only one who remembered Satoru was crazy into digimon, even if he knows Suguru can't tell Koromon from Agumon, no matter how many times Satoru explains.

He's the only one who wanted to be best friends with Satoru, not Gojo.

And Satoru ruined it by being stupid like he always is and taking away possibly one of the most meaningful moments from the best friend he's ever had.

Ugh, fuck. Satoru can't—doesn't want to—think about this anymore. It makes his head hurt, and he's pretty sure he's got a mission with Suguru to Yokohama tomorrow, possibly all day. He should probably get some shut-eye.

Instead, he pulls his legs to his chest, resting his cheek on his knee, and he waits.

Waits and waits for the boy he knows better than himself to come back.

. . .

Suguru eventually does, just when Satoru thinks he bailed on him.

The door creaks open, hinges squeaking timidly in the backdrop of Shoko's loud snoring, just when Satoru's beginning to drift off in stubborn sleep. He perks up, eyes trained on the familiar figure tip-toeing around the dark.

Suguru's careful not to step on anything; he knows the layout of Satoru's room is as good as muscle memory by now, and so he makes it next to Satoru without much noise.

"Suguru, ya really gonna study now?"

Satoru drawls, voice dragging on towards the end from sleep, trying to swallow him whole. And maybe from the fact that his head feels like absolute mush from Suguru.

The other boy sits down by him, sitting with his legs criss-crossed and his knee budging Satoru's ankle. Satoru leans into that tiny point of contact, bumping his leg into Suguru's when the other doesn't reply.

"…yeah. Have you already done it?"

Suguru eventually asks quietly, even if he knows the answer. Satoru barely does the work assigned; well, he does a few problems and then calls it a day.

Homework's boooring, and is it really a problem if he doesn't do it but still aces the tests anyway?

"Nah. But I can help you."

He says, shifting so he's leaning on Suguru again, legs dropping to mimic Suguru's folded ones. His knee rests on top of Suguru's now, and, as much as he tries to ignore it, he can't help but grimace at the way Suguru stiffens for a few seconds.

Is he uncomfortable?

"…Seriously, you're giving me a headache. The human memory can only take you so far, I won't be surprised if you flunk the next test without practice."

Suguru sighs, but he can hear the smile in his voice, and so he doesn't quite feel his stomach prickling his insides anymore.

He lays the notebook on Satoru's knee, scooting closer to him. It makes Satoru almost flinch, fuck, his body is just so much more jumpy, so much more alert around Suguru ever since they…

"…are you not tired, Satoru?"

…Since when did Suguru's voice sound so soft? Has it always been this way? He really can't tell, just knows that he wouldn't mind if he heard it ten times over.

Even in its softness, it startles Satoru, makes his knee jerk, and his heart jumps up in his throat, thudding against his teeth.

"Quit mother hennin'. I'm fine, I can do this stuff in my sleep."

He scoffs sleepily, leaning his cheek on Suguru's shoulder to look over the problems in the other sorcerer's notebook.

He can hear the other inhale a little too quickly, can feel how Suguru's body is pulled taut, straight as a pencil, the moment Satoru's warmth is leaned against his.

Suguru doesn't speak for a moment, the silence louder than the crickets singing outside. Summer's always the worst around July, especially the start of it. Tokyo's pavements are always hot enough to melt, and it doesn't even matter where you are, in the countryside or the city, it's just hot as hell everywhere.

The other boy takes the book off of Satoru's knee, sliding it underneath Satoru's bed. Which didn't make sense. Why the hell had he made such a fuss to bring his homework if he wasn't even doing it?

Suguru's fingers snake into Satoru's palm, pressing his thumb into the dead center of it. It isn't harsh or really squeezing, just enough to catch Satoru's attention and shut all his thoughts up.

He glances his head up, only to find Suguru looking away, towards the window with the faintest of starlight bleeding through the glass.

Suguru's lips are pursed; Satoru can tell that much from this angle. His eyes are closed, too, squeezed shut.

Suguru's thumb slightly circles the center of Satoru's palm in the way a child would rub a cat's head for good luck. He's about to speak, before he hears Suguru's voice, shaky like it rarely is,

"Listen, Satoru, about earlier…"

Oh.

Here it comes. Suguru's gonna tell him they can't be friends cause Satoru really crossed the line, and Suguru simply can't look past it like usual anymore.

"I'm…sorry. If I.. crossed any lines between us."

Huh?

"I didn't mean to… take advantage of the situation, and I understand it's my fault…"

"hah? what do you mean?"

Satoru interjects, quickly, because what? Suguru took advantage? of what? Him?

Suguru pauses, turning his head to face Satoru, and in this angle, he can see Suguru's wide-eyed look, those purple peonies blooming wider in surprise.

Satoru's interruption seems to throw Suguru off enough to keep quiet for a few more seconds, and so Satoru continues on,

"Who are you takin' advantage of? Me?"

The idea was almost laughable. As if Satoru is that easy.

"You really think that?"

He says, because Suguru remains quiet, looking away again in that kicked puppy way that makes Satoru's heart fall to his gut.

God. The funniest part was that he really did believe it, didn't he?

Satoru pushes off of Suguru's shoulder, leaning back so he can sit up straight. Suguru's thumb loosens on Satoru's palm, as if he's expecting Satoru to pull away or shove him, as if.

"Oi. You really think I'd tolerate somethin' I didn't wanna?"

He mutters, almost offended, he has every right—he's not some timid damsel who would sit through discomfort. If Satoru didn't want Suguru kissing him, Suguru wouldn't be.

He doesn't do anything he doesn't want, and why would he? It's a total waste of time.

He waits for Suguru to reply, but all he gets is a small, weak chuckle, almost frail in the way it's so shaky.

Satoru can't tell if it's relief, or fear, or what. He's never really been good at reading that kinda stuff, but from the way Suguru's energy is jumping a little yet retaining that smooth ebb and flow throughout his body tells him he shouldn't worry too much.

Suguru's index and middle finger join his thumb on Satoru's palm, tracing the lines imprinted into his skin.

His hand feels numb, all tingly and amped with electricity from Suguru's fingers caressing them.

"It's… not that, Satoru. I just don't think it was fair, is all. You… didn't tell me to… or know I was gonna do… that."

Suguru says, soft, so quiet that hearing a mouse skitter around is easier than him.

"Does it matter if it's fair? I liked it."

Satoru blurts out because it feels appropriate.

Suguru's fingers pause all their movements.

"What?"

"What?"

Satoru parrots, his face suddenly warm again despite the room being fairly evenly tempered out.

He's real glad Shoko's a deep sleeper, or this conversation would've made her burst out into laughter or poke fun at the two of them for months straight. That would've been hell.

"Satoru, what?"

Suguru urges on, almost a little frantic. No, definetely frantic. Suguru's energy is coiling around again, sharp and jagged like a cat's tail when it's shocked.

It makes Satoru feel frantic, too.

"I—said I liked it!"

He blurts out a little louder, biting his tongue when he realized he was this close to screaming it.

"Did you?"

Satoru doesn't mean for his voice to sound so meek, but it did, and he can't take it back cause Suguru heard and there's no way to make him forget it.

The crickets sound louder now, almost as if they're mocking him from the way Suguru remains so, so quiet at that.

He should probably take it back.

Suguru's not gonna like it, he kissed a dude, and like, well, he probably wanted it to be a girl, so of course he wouldn't have liked it.

"Yeah."

"nevermind, that's stupid to ask—"

They both speak at the same time, and so when Satoru hears Suguru say something like a yes, he genuinely believes he hallucinated that, or like, misheard him because his brain is just so desperate to believe Suguru liked it, too.

"Hah?"

Satoru gawks, blinking a little rapidly. He feels kinda crazy.

The moon's not out tonight, and so the stars are the only source of light Satoru has to go by to see the way Suguru's worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. Suguru's eyes look like marbles, the starlight bouncing off of them with irisdescence so breathtaking that Satoru's not really sure how to describe it as anything but a pretty sight.

The prettiest.

"Did I not tell you how obnoxious that is?"

Suguru sighs, chiding in that same exasperated tone as he squeezes Satoru's palm—somehow, Satoru hadn't noticed Suguru's entire hand was wrapped around his, Suguru's thumb kneading the back of his hand and the bones of his knuckles.

"I've told you that so many times. It's rude to just go 'hah' in someone's face."

Is that really the point here? That's what Suguru is fixated on?

"Do you ever listen to a word anyone ever says?"

Suguru keeps berating him, and Satoru's really about to tell him to piss off—

"I said yes."

The other mumbles, voice dropping a few notes,

"I liked it, too."

Satoru is positive he's losing it.

He doesn't know what to say, or what he should do, so… he has a bunch of options, and it's only a matter of flipping a mental coin.

A. He could like, ask Suguru if they're still friends, if anything's changed, if he likes girls, and go to sleep.

B. Satoru should do the most logical thing one should in this context.

Heads is B, and tails is A. He flips his mental coin, and voila, heads! Except, his mental coin has both sides as heads; tails wasn't even much of an option. B it is.

The most logical thing to do, right now, is obvious.

He kisses Suguru again. Leans forward, practically slamming his face onto Suguru's. Their teeth knock together, and Satoru's all but pounced on the other boy, their legs tangled together as Satoru's hands squish Suguru's face together.

"Satoru!—"

Suguru breathes out in between the messy press of lips, almost like a plea.

Satoru feels delirious.

"You taste like my vanilla lip balm."

Satoru offers as a reply, muttering lazily against his lips,

"So annoying…tastes way better on ya.."

That comment is what seemingly makes Suguru snap, fisting at Satoru's shirt abruptly and shoving him hard against the floorboards, switching their positions. Satoru's sunglasses are knocked off his face, clattering somewhere off to the side, hopefully not anywhere near where Shoko seems to be curled like a sleeping shrimp.

Satoru's head bangs against the wood, and he yelps out in surprise, clinging onto Suguru's shoulders.

"Ow—!"

Suguru's on him easily, his hair coming out of his bun and falling around like a curtain against Satoru's face. The sensation tickles his cheeks, making it really difficult not to shiver.

He digs his fingers further into Suguru's shoulders, trying to ground himself cause fuck it already feels like he's bungee jumping without a harness.

Thankfully, the pain blooming in the back of his skull is enough to drag him into the present.

"That hurt, you asshole!"

Satoru barks, his scowl quickly evaporating under the weight of Suguru pressing soft little kisses against the corner of Satoru's mouth, ignoring all of Satoru's grumbles and instead apologizing by sliding his hands around Satoru's waist.

"Can't a special grade sorcerer handle a bit of pain?"

Suguru purrs against his mouth, his breathing erratic, puffing softly against Satoru's skin. His lips are quivering against Satoru's cheek, pressing soft little kisses as light as butterfly wings.

Satoru knows Suguru's just as nervous as him; he has to be, there's no way someone who's not nervous would shake this much when holding him.

Despite his teasing, Suguru runs his hands up and down the sides of Satoru's waist, almost as if apologizing for suddenly tackling him to the floor.

Suguru makes his apology even more convincing by pressing his lips to Satoru's, his knee shoving itself between Satoru's legs to pry them open long enough for Suguru to comfortably settle between them.

It's a lot less clumsier than earlier, Suguru's kisses more incessant, trying and succeeding in coaxing little gasps and choked exhales out of Satoru.

His mind is diluted with Suguru, his hair tickling the tips of Satoru's ears, his breathing against Satoru's, the way he's fitted snug between his knees.

It doesn't take them long to find a sweet balance. Suguru's head tilted to the side as he kisses Satoru, just so their noses didn't clash against each other.

As if this all isn't already too much again, Suguru's cursed energy is butting heads with his own, except it's less frantic and more coordinated, which is so, so much mind-numbingly worse, firmly bumping against the corners of his energy, as if trying to mix in with Satoru's.

His head is all but a giant butterfly, caught up in a gust of wind so strong it's spinning him right round as if caught in a whirlpool, unable to break free.

Satoru's hands travel up to Suguru's hair, fisting any chunk of inky strands he can grab, and tugs, earning himself a delicious groan of his own name.

His head only swirls round and round, wound up in that whirlpool that keeps getting stronger, stronger, his own mind going haywire with too much, so much input hitting his brain all at once, and he has no idea how to filter it, to digest it.

He doesn't want to filter this, he thinks.

Satoru wants every spark of vehement electricity lighting up his brain, wants everything that Suguru makes him feel, even if it makes his brain feel like it's being flattened and stuffed with cotton at the same time.

Suguru's kitten licks across Satoru's mouth, tongue tracing the seam of his bottom lip, gently trying to guide Satoru to part his lips.

Satoru's eyes squeezed shut, a light groan erupting from the back of his throat, instantly kicking his knee up and slamming into Suguru's upper hip, since Suguru was towering over him between his legs, pressing Satoru down into the floor.

He can't help it, he really can't, his body just—can't stop jolting everytime Suguru does that.

The other boy picks up on this, of course he does, he's Suguru.

He doesn't budge at all, his left arm leaving to trace the outline of Satoru's waist, his thigh, walking a trail up to his knee, and pressing his palm on the hinge of it to keep Satoru from kicking him again.

Satoru finally, finally grants Suguru access, and the long-haired boy takes full advantage, licking into his mouth, his hand squeezing Satoru's knee and pressing him further down.

Satoru, for the first time in his life, is having a hard time keeping up.

The thing is, neither of them have ever kissed anyone, let alone ever even attempt what they're doing now. They simply just… didn't have time to go out on dates with non-sorcerers (as if Satoru would wanna date a weakling), and there's not many sorcerer girls around.

And yet, despite that, Suguru's ridiculously good at this. He's licking the roof of Satoru's mouth, his teeth, everywhere his tongue can apparently reach.

It's like every part of Satoru is up for grabs, and Suguru is making great use of that opportunity, cherishing every little gasp and tug at his hair.

Suguru leans his chest against Satoru's, reducing the amount of distance between them.

Everything is too much—the brush of his own shirt against his burning skin, the brush of Suguru's chest against his, oh, it's all too much, Suguru's too close, not close enough, he needs him closer, needs him farther.

Satoru's usual iron-clad energy is writhing like never before, brain unfurling like a ball of yarn let loose and tumbling down a hill.

His mind is trumpeting all sorts of information inside his skull, the cursed energy inputs bursting like a cornucopia of colors and input from the energy of insects outside, a grade four curse roaming about the edges of campus, of Suguru's shaky sighs and murmurs of Satoru's name.

He can feel everything, ten times worse than it's been in years, like this is all it took to break the filter of the great and transcendent six eyes.

Suguru's hand slides up his sweat-soaked shirt, fingers splaying flat on his belly, not moving up or down but just pressing against where he thinks his appendix would be, allowing Satoru's mind to further split and erupt with electricity, gasping Suguru's name.

"Satoru, listen,"

Suguru breathes out raspily, thumb pressing into his navel,

"Just keep your eyes on me, okay?"

He whispers shakily against Satoru's tingling lips, softly kissing his swollen bottom one, the corner of his mouth, his cupid's bow, back to the center,

"All of them."

Oh.

Oh.

How could he not listen to that?

Satoru jerkily nods his head, looping his arms around Suguru's neck, pulling him closer, closer, focusing just on the boy on top of him and nothing else.

Suguru's kisses slow down in intensity, as if understanding Satoru's frenzied state and deciding to take pity on him.

Suguru always knew when Satoru's six eyes really chewed his brain inside out, and knew exactly how to tend Satoru's aches and pains.

He kisses at the edge of Satoru's jaw, just running his lips against his skin, rubbing soft circles on his belly to keep him focused on Suguru, trying to soothe any overwhelm from the six eyes absolutely losing their shit on Satoru.

Satoru's never felt anything like this before, has never thought something like this can even be experienced.

Something that punches the air out of it, seizes it straight from his lungs, and gently feeds it back into his system.

It's dizzying, makes his gut drop, and feel nauseated with dopamine.

"Satoru, your eyes."

Suguru chides softly, thumbing at Satoru's belly button and moving over to trace his hip bones.

Satoru's eyes flutter open, as if seeing light for the first time.

Suguru stopped kissing him, his hands all over Satoru, one caressing his stomach and hip, the other running up and down the back of his knee in a manner that can only really be described as therapeutic.

Suguru's chest rises and falls rapidly, his silohuette trembling on top of Satoru.

He looks absolutely dazed from what Satoru can make out of his expression.

"Are you looking for a fight? My eyes are on you."

Suguru's intently staring down at Satoru, and he briefly wonders if he should ask Suguru what he's staring at, but the other just leans down to peck a soft kiss to his nose, so featherlight it tickles his skin.

Suguru's lips feel so impossibly warm.

"Can you guys be quieter…or go to Geto's room instead…"

They both freeze up at Shoko's sleepy voice echoing throughout the suddenly quiet room.

Is she purposely picking the worst times to interrupt or something?

Suguru straightens up immediately, although still between Satoru's legs, he doesn't look as incriminating as before, at least, he probably doesn't. Satoru had no clue how improper Suguru looked. But he does know the fact he definitely kissed scandalously.

And Satoru knows they both look preeeetty undefendable right now.

"wh—"

Suguru begins to say, but the brunette doesn't let him finish,

"You both are so loud. I have to hang with Utahime tomorrow, so keep it down.."

Shoko grumbles, her crumpled form coiling in on itself more as if she's covering her ears.

What the hell!

Why is Shoko acting like they do this every day!

"What the hell—"

Satoru blurts, fully intending to bitch about Shoko hanging out without them, but Suguru presses down on his belly enough to make him inhale sharply, almost biting his own tongue.

"I don't… think she's really awake right now."

Suguru says, nails grazing Satoru's sternum,

"she won't remember this, I hope."

Satoru wouldn't mind if Shoko did remember this. Well, he did mind since she'd make fun of them every chance she got, but Satoru doesn't really care about the fact he got caught kissing Suguru. Just that it was Shoko who caught them.

Is that a normal thing to think?

Suguru gets off of him, hands slipping out of Satoru's shirt and knee retracing itself to let Satoru's legs breathe again. It feels cold, having Suguru pull away even slightly.

He's always preferred warmth over most things.

"We have a mission in Yokohama tomorrow, the briefing for this one's early. We can't stay up too late."

Suguru says, sitting up straight with his hands on Satoru's ankles.

"Aren't you going to go up to your bed? Or do you want to sleep on the floor? Don't complain when your back hurts—"

"Where are you sleeping?"

Satoru blurts out again. God, he has a bad habit of doing that in the past hour.

Suguru pauses, sitting back on his haunches and circling his thumb around Satoru's heel.

"…on the floor."

Suguru eventually answers, hushed and a bit hesitant, as if confused why Satoru even asked.

"Didn't you say sleeping on the floor is good for you?"

He replies, because Suguru had said that much, hadn't he? Satoru obviously told him to stop spouting off his country myths to him; that said, it wasn't like he wasn't listening to Suguru.

"…yeah, that's right…but you said it hurt your back?"

Suguru counters back, his voice measured like he's getting more confused by the second and desperately trying to figure it out.

Satoru shrugs in lieu of a reply, even if Suguru can't see. He sits up, pushing off of his elbow and drawing his legs closer to himself. His lips still faintly tingle, and his mind is cut up into tiny little fragments, floating away all over the room.

Suguru's hands fall away from him, and Satoru takes it as an opportunity to shift onto his knees, crawl over to Suguru, who's as stiff as a board.

He pries Suguru's knees apart, enough to squeeze in between them and encircle his hands around Suguru's waist, digging his nose deep into the junction of his shoulder. Suguru always smells like clean laundry and a faint hint of lavender, probably that detergent he'd told Satoru was fifty percent off.

"Satoru?"

Suguru's voice is wavering as he says it, like Satoru's prying his heart open with bare teeth rather than simply hugging him.

Satoru ignores it, palms traveling up, slowly, to spread out over Suguru's wingspan, resting there as he lays his weight against Suguru. His mind is all hazy around the corners, fogged up on so much input.

Suguru doesn't say much, just exhales through his nose and drops his shoulders. Satoru feels warm again when the other sorcerer decides to embrace him back, wrapping Satoru tightly in a bow of his arms.

"Are your eyes hurting? I'm sorry, I shouldn't have…"

"'S fine. They're always like that."

It's true, even if the kissing made them really act out, Satoru's not a stranger to them clawing at his mind, leaving him curling up in his bed for a while. Suguru is always there, getting on Satoru's ass about 'electrolytes' and not pushing himself too hard, like some kinda housewife.

Satoru won't ever tell him, but he's glad Suguru bitches the way he does.

He's quiet for a few beats, his legs locking around Satoru's hips, keeping him close. Suguru's body is bigger than his despite being slightly shorter—broader shoulders, his hands smaller than Satoru's but they managed to cradle all of him anyway.

"Satoru, I…"

Suguru swallows, running his knuckles over Satoru's spine,

"We…We both probably got too carried away. Way too many times."

He mutters, voice barely above a whisper,

"Forget about what…. we did, okay? It… won't change anything."

Satoru feels his lungs tighten a little, lip curling in on itself. Which is weird, because this is all he wanted all along.

He didn't want anything to change, he wanted to go on konbini runs, wanted to lay around and play video games, and eat all the snacks they didn't today.

He didn't want Suguru to change, so why is he suddenly pissed?

"…why should I?"

Satoru mumbles petulantly, fingers playing with the edges of Suguru's hair like it's a ball of yarn and Satoru is all but a cat.

He can feel Suguru's chest expand against his, the way he sighs out deeply. The other boy busies himself with tracing uzumaki patterns on his shoulder blades, his touch featherlight.

"Don't be like that, Satoru…"

Suguru says softly, one of his hands petting Satoru's nape, toying with the edges of the messy hair there.

"That was.. a one-off thing. We're just best friends, aren't we?"

Satoru knows what Suguru's saying is probably right. No, it was definetely right. Satoru and Suguru did not kiss; they had many indirect kisses, technically, but they never kiss.

Best friends don't kiss each other.

Satoru knows that this is a one off thing, that they won't ever talk about this again because Satoru will get a girlfriend and Suguru will get one, and they both won't ever do this again with each other.

Satoru knows he shouldn't feel pissed, or—or whatever this thing is in his head that makes him grit his teeth and heart drain itself of blood.

But when it comes down to it, knowing and feeling are two different things.

Satoru doesn't know why the hell he's upset over this.

He has no right; he actually doesn't even know why he doesn't want to forget.

What would they even do if they didn't ignore it?

"…yeah. We are."

Satoru affirms, hands fisting in Suguru's shirt. His six eyes are way too annoying for his brain to work properly, damn Suguru for breaking his careful filter.

They both don't say anything after that—what else is there to say—they just hold each other in the dark like they always do.

Suguru tightens his hold on Satoru, scooting to drag them both over by the head of the bed so Suguru can lean back on it, let Satoru rest all his weight against him. He puts his palms on Satoru's eyes, trying to calm his mind and ease him back into the present.

It doesn't take long for Satoru to eventually just… succumbs to the exhaustion of being out all day and whatever mental gymnastics he's been doing all night.

He goes to blissful sleep, dreaming of vanilla and hands on his knees.

. . .

"You two are acting really weird."

Shoko drawls, taking a hearty bite out of her tuna onigiri. Satoru thinks it looks cheap, but he can't really be complaining since he's eating the same flavor anyway.

"Hah? What do you mean?"

He says through a mouthful, crouched over the pavement by the sidewalk. Suguru's still in the konbini, helping out the old lady around the store (not willingly) because he reminded her of her convicted felon grandson and she dearly missed him.

Satoru had burst out laughing when he'd heard that, and Suguru had told him to wait outside with Shoko since Satoru was barely able to stand up straight from how badly his lungs hurt. How could anyone blame him? It was funny as hell!

Even Shoko was smirking and giggling!

But now she was saying stupid things. Satoru and Suguru were acting fine enough, they weren't awkward or anything. They even had a sleepover just the other day!

"Geto's scared shitless to be alone with you since last week."

Shoko huffs, licking the mayo off her lips and taking another bite, careful to not let any fall on her undershirt.

They're all wearing their summer uniforms, which is basically just their regular uniforms with their jackets off. They probably don't have enough funding or care to give them all a summer uniform. Satoru wishes his undershirt was looser.

He purses his lips, immediately scrunching his nose in offense,

"No he isn't!"

Because he isn't! Suguru has no reason to not wanna hang out with Satoru, because nothing's changed and they still go on duo missions, stay in the same room and eat out, just like they always do!

"When's the last time I wasn't with you both?"

"The mission this morning."

Shoko gives him a deadpan stare, as if she can't decide if Satoru's immediate response is pathetic or just some mega form of denial.

"That's a mission, Gojo. Haven’t you noticed he keeps calling me whenever it’s just you two?"

Well.. no. He hasn't.

How could he? It isn't abnormal for all of them to hang out all the time. They all hang out every chance they get, they're practically triplets the way they're constantly glued to each other, and this week has been like every other.

"That a problem?"

Satoru grumbled, biting down on his onigiri harder than necessary.

Suguru has no reason to ignore him, none that Satoru can think of, because as far as he knows Suguru's been fine.

They still fall asleep on each other, still wrestle and go on stupid trips together. Isn't that enough? Sure, Suguru's been a little jumpy being close to Satoru here and there, but it shouldn't matter much, should it?

Shoko sighs deeply, finishing the last bite of her onigiri with an annoyed look on her face. Satoru really thinks she shouldn't be a doctor or whatever, the girl has no patience for anyone!

"When's the last time you two trained together? No, close your mouth, when's the last time you trained without me there?"

Satoru bites his lip, chewing on the rice in his mouth for the hundreth time this minute,

"…last week."

Okay.

So maybe Suguru was avoiding being alone with Satoru, maybe.

"Yeah. Do you see what I mean? What's up with you two? Did you fight or something?"

"…No."

Satoru mutters, swallowing the mushy rice he'd been working away at for the past minute now,

"Gojo."

"Agh! Get off my back, we really didn't!"

Shoko sighs, leaning back on the burning pavement on her palms.

"Whether you did or didn't, figure it out. It gives me the creeps hanging around you two so much."

Satoru sticks his tongue out at her, turning his head away in a childish fit. Suguru wasn't avoiding one-on-one with Satoru! And he'll prove it!

"You're so mean for a healer."

He remarks, pouting as he takes the final bite of his own onigiri. Tuna tastes better with rice, and even better with seaweed, but still, Satoru missed the usual edamame filling the store usually sells. He wonders what happened to their stock.

"No wonder Geto doesn't wanna be alone with you."

Shoko pulls out a pack of cigarettes (ew.) from her skirt pocket, flipping the box open with her thumb and placing one between her lips. She tosses the box to Satoru, who reluctantly catches it and gags as he sets it down in the space between them.

Her cigarette's lit in an instant, smoke wafting up in the summer breeze. Satoru turns his whole body away, plugging his nose with a grimace.

"Why are you tryin' to get cancer already?"

Satoru cringes, pouting as she huffs and turns her body to deliberately face him.

"I won't get cancer, I can just heal myself."

Shoko hums, and with an impish grin, she leans forward to blow a ring of smoke straight into Satoru's direction like the asshole she is!

"I told you to quit doin' that!"

Satoru says in between his coughing fit, cause what the hell, he can get secondhand smoking cancer! Or whatever Suguru said it was! He'd told Satoru — "Secondhand smoking is worse than the actual thing. Did you know that, Satoru?" — just to scare him.

It kinda worked, even if Satoru said he was full of shit at the time.

"You're gonna give me cancer!"

Shoko only snickers, continuing to smoke in his direction with a self-satisfied look on her face.
Satoru would really smack that cigarette out of her hands, or better yet, burn her entire stash away if he could!

Before he can act on that thought, the konbini doors jingle open, and Suguru's familiar cursed energy floods his senses.

The other boy walks up to the two of them, standing behind Satoru with a hand on his hip and his hair all messed up, likely from helping the shopkeeper with boxes and whatnot.

"What's with the sulky face?"

Suguru hums, leaning his elbow on Satoru's head and using him as a sitting cane, basically. Satoru only huffs, rolling his eyes and slouching back against Suguru's thighs.

"I'm gonna get cancer."

"You're not gonna get cancer from a few cigarettes, Gojo."

"How do you know that! Secondhand smoke can lead to like, asthma! and cancer!"

Piped Satoru, crossing his arms at Shoko's stupid statement with an even bigger pout than before. Didn't she know any amount is enough to kill?

"Who's the med student here?"

"Not you. Didn't you say you had the test answers written up your sleeve—"

Satoru doesn't finish that sentence because Shoko picks up the pack of cigarettes, closes the lid, and hurls the box at Satoru, who yelps at the impact.

Jeez, why does everyone love hitting him?

Suguru laughs, pushing his elbow off of Satoru and petting his head instead, like Satoru's some puppy and Suguru's trying to make him feel better about being kicked.

"Shoko, be careful with your cigarettes."

Suguru hums, like the absolute megabitch to ever live. He doesn't even sound a little bit concerned, like, poor Satoru just got hit, and he's worried about the box instead of him!

Shoko just grins, because she's a megabitch too, pushing on her heels and standing up from the pavement, dusting off her skirt haphazardly before joining Suguru to stand behind Satoru's sulking figure.

"It'll be fine. If he ruined anything, I'd make him buy another pack,"

She remarks, as if Satoru took the pack and flung it at himself.

"Anyway, are we ready to go? I have to help Haibara pick out a get-well gift for Nanami. He caught a cold."

Satoru swings his feet to stand up, stretching his arms above his head. His body's been stiff lately, ugh, he really needs to get a good spar in with Suguru later this afternoon. It always managed to make his limbs feel better, all battered up and thoroughly worked out.

…and he could use this as a chance to confirm if Suguru really was avoiding hanging out with him.

Not that he would. Satoru believes he isn't, he really does, but….

Is it a bad thing to just confirm for a quick second?

"That dude caught a cold? I can't imagine him bein' sick."

Satoru mused, throwing his hands in his pockets and resuming his position to Shoko's side, while Suguru is on Shoko's left.

"Yeah, he seems like he's too careful to catch the summer flu."

Suguru hums after, the three walking in tandem down the street. It's scalding, as it usually is, and Satoru can feel sweat bead at his nape and his forehead. It feels iffy; he can't wait til he gets back to take a long, cold shower.

"Anyone can get sick, you know, mutations in diseases, lack of sleep, poor diet, any of that can weaken your immune system enough to cause sickness."

Shoko says, twirling her cigarette between her lips lazily.

"Did you get this from your cheat sheets?"

"Gojo, I swear—"

Satoru laughs as Shoko shoves him off to the side in annoyance, chortling as if he's told the funniest joke on the planet. Cause he totally has, he's just funny like that.

After that, it's not hard for the three of them to fall into easy conversation about Nanami and Haibara, even if it's mostly just Satoru and Suguru remarking on Nanami's latest mission being way out of his abilities, and Shoko occassionally chiming in.

It's a long way to the campus, about thirty minutes on foot since they're placed deep into Tokyo's countryside.

The area itself is beautiful, lush green with curvy roads, but it's pretty isolated from the outside, so they have to trek down to the closest konbini, which is just midway from the city. Still pretty far, but it's not that bad.

It's why he and Suguru want to properly buy a bike, if Yaga wasn't on their ass about not doing it.

"They shouldn't leave the rough missions to the weaklings."

Satoru scoffed, the three of them passing by a bunch of vending machines. All of them are probably broken. Shoko only rolls her eyes at that statement, toying around with the cigarette between her lips.

"How noble. You'd rather us have more missions, Satoru?"

Suguru hums, an almost amused smile plastered on his face. It's the same fox-like one he has every time Satoru says 'offensive' things, but Suguru is entertained enough to keep his reprimands back.

"Ehh? Where'd ya get that from?"

He pauses for a second before continuing,

"It'd be fun to go on more missions with you, so it doesn't sound too bad."

Satoru hummed, dragging out his words obnoxiously.

Suguru only responds with a soft chuckle, breeze picking up around them.

"Yo, Suguru, wanna spar later?"

He decides it's the perfect time to rip the band-aid, ask the question, and be proved wrong. Shoko would be with Haibara, so it'd be kinda impossible to call her along.

Which, in his opinion, is the perfect time to gauge whether Suguru is truly running from him.

Suguru takes a little too long to respond, clicking his tongue softly with an easy sigh.

"Sorry, maybe next time. I have homework for economics. Don't you?"

No.

"…'m not doing it. What a nerd."

Satoru mutters, heart sinking down to his gut in a bad way this time.

What a load of shit!

They didn't have any homework for economics. That teacher barely gives a shit about that class, they almost never have homework.

And Suguru almost never avoids him, until now, apparently.

That's like, the one class he'd least expect homework in.

….Suguru knows that. Suguru knew and lied to him anyway.

Satoru's been proven wrong.

. . .

It didn't take long for the three of them to reach those familiar Tori gates of the school.

Time flies by when he's with Shoko and Suguru, after all, even if the summer heat killed them all before they finally got a moment under the tacky air conditioning in the building.

Shoko had been dragged by Haibara back outside the minute they stepped into the school, so that left Satoru and Suguru alone in the old, beat-up hallways. They really needed to renovate this part of the school; the boards creaked every second, and it pissed him the hell off.

"Don't forget your homework, Satoru. I'm not letting you copy this time."

Suguru snickers as they walk down the halls, hands in their pockets and their shoulders brushing. Is he for real? He's really gonna laugh and pretend he hadn't absolutely lied straight to his face, for a whole thirty minutes!

"What would I be copyin'? We don't have any homework."

Satoru snaps, pausing his steps until Suguru stops, too, in front of him. He figures Suguru is startled by the sudden irritation in Satoru's voice since the boy had been laughing and joking all the way until now.

"Huh?"

"Huh?" he says after being caught. Satoru's been stewing on this the entire walk back: that Suguru lied, that he doesn't wanna hang out with Satoru alone anymore. He did his absolute best not to show it, not in front of Shoko, but it's getting hard when it's been going on for a whole week, and he didn't even notice!

Why? Is it because of what they did last week?

Suguru had said they were fine. That nothing had changed.

….Liar.

"Why don't you wanna hang out with me?"

Satoru blurts, curling his fists against his pant leg, head bowed in frustration.

"What is this about? We've been hanging out."

"Yeah, with Shoko. We haven't been hanging out!"

That seems to shut Suguru up, probably from the way Satoru's voice suddenly spikes, practically shouting.

"Why don't you wanna be alone with me? Afraid I'll jump your bones again?"

"You didn't…—"

"If you regretted it you should've said so! I'm not so fragile that you can't even tell me you didn't want it!"

Satoru barks, his shoulders bunching up to his ears.

"You really think I'm a pussy? That you can't even speak your mind around me?"

"Satoru."

Suguru cuts in firmly, too calm for Satoru's worked-up mind, tight as a coiled spring.

"I don't think you're fragile, far from that, and you know it."

"Do I? Cause you've been avoiding me like a bitch—"

"I haven't been avoiding you!"

Satoru almost wants to laugh, because oh, that is a bullshit excuse. Out of every single lie, that is the worst one he's ever told.

"Right, 'cause Shoko watching us spar constantly is totally normal. And her bein' there for every konbini run, yeah, even when we go to the rooftops!"

He snarls, crossing his arms tightly against his chest. Why didn't Suguru just tell him how he felt? Satoru could've taken it, could've accepted that Suguru thought it was a mistake, and hell he did accept it! Suguru said to forget it, and Satoru did! (kind of)

But he's the one who hasn't forgotten! And Satoru's being punished for it?

"And you lied about homework! You said we had homework in economics, which is bullshit! We never have homework!"

Suguru's face visibly falls, his eyes widening a little like someone who forgot to cover up a mental fuck-up. He crosses his arms, mimicking Satoru's stance, with a furrow in his eyebrow.

"Listen, Satoru, it's improper—"

Improper?

"Improper? Kissing me was improper?"

"Stop interrupting me!"

Satoru bites his tongue, tries to bite down the utter anger bubbling low in his chest. It's no use, no use at all. Suguru's voice amps up with his own, and all Satoru can feel is needles prickling his skin.

"It's—we shouldn't have done that. It shouldn't have happened."

"Why not? And does it matter? You said it didn't change anything, but it clearly did!"

Suguru clenches his jaw before pausing, takes a deep breath, and relaxes his shoulders. Satoru hates it.

"You know it would've, Satoru."

Suguru says softly, turning away and dropping his arms. Oh fucking hell, why is Suguru being all cryptic on him? He hates it whenever he does this, when they have a huge argument, and he turns into fucking Master Oogway—it's not that hard to just… say what he means instead of speaking riddle!

"It's naive to think it wouldn't have, I just…"

The other boy pauses, chewing on his bottom lip before continuing,

"It's—we can't, I can't do it with you again, I can't take that risk—"

"Risk of what?"

"Of doing things I shouldn't be doing with you!"

Suguru snaps, clenching his fists at his side. Satoru gapes at Suguru, yelling at him back now, it just—just makes everything in his chest explode.

Suguru takes a deep breath, unclenching his fists,

"It was a mistake, Satoru. You didn't mean it."

Was it really? And would Suguru stop assuming what Satoru thinks and doesn't? He doesn't know everything!

"Ah jeez you're so annoyin'! always on that high horse of yours assumin' what I think, how do you know I didn't mean it? Huh? Did you mean it? Why is it always on me? You said you didn't wanna do it with me, then what, you'd wanna do it with some other chick?"

Satoru says, gritting his teeth together. He doesn't know why he's getting so worked up over this, doesn't know why he's mad about Suguru calling it a mistake even though it was, they shouldn't have, because Satoru isn't Suguru's boyfriend and Suguru isn't his, and they're just friends.

"Yeah! I would!"

Suguru spat out, making Satoru's eyes widen. He did expect that. So why did his heart squeeze itself so tight?

"Fine! Sorry you had the misfortune of kissing me!"

Satoru sneered, his mind a tornado of heat and pressure, all bubbling up in his chest. Suguru saying that shouldn't make a difference; he knew he didn't want Satoru like that, why would he?

They're both straight, aren't they? Straight guys don't wanna kiss their best friends, nor do they like it.

But Satoru liked it.

Ah, like he cares. Suguru… cares more about that stuff than Satoru does.

He always has.

Satoru's entire world just feels off balance, so he does what he thinks is best. He whips around, stomping off to his dorm room without a single glance back at Suguru because this argument doesn't feel like their usual ones at all.

It doesn't feel like they can fix it with a pack of milk bread or cola, or a simple "There's a new update on Tekken. Play it with me."

…Stupid bangs.

. . .

It's probably been an hour since Satoru's been sulking in his room.

Satoru's got a Pocky stick in his mouth, Oreo flavor this time, lying on his back in his bed while he holds up his controller in the air. He took it upon himself to farm for Lilithmon since he has all the free time in the world right now.

He even got dressed in his loosest white shirt and his favorite pair of pajama pants with Veemon plastered all over them.

With all this new time alone, he could use it to relax and grind Digimon way more than he usually does.

Which proved to be a huge, giant mistake.

It's a hassle getting ABI for each of his mons, and he hates it when there's no other option than to wait a whole week just to get back to where he was, given that he doesn't have a lot of free time every day.

Digivolving and de-digivolving for ABI* is like taking a ball of clay, making it into a pot, smashing the pot, and melting it back into clay to make it into a pot again, just to make a cooler one.

Satoru spends the entire hour roaming the entire map and almost breaking his PSP from the number of times he's had to de-digivolve so he could get a better ABI.

But that just means he's in a good spot in the game, his mons are just stronger and harder to digivolve!

Satoru's so engrossed in his gameplay that he almost doesn't hear the knock on his door.

"Satoru?"

Ah.

Satoru doesn't answer, turning up the volume on his PSP.

"Satoru, come on, I know you're there."

So what if he was? He's not trying to hide his presence. It's his room after all, and he can be in it as much as he wants. Alone.

"What? Gonna tell me how much it sucked kissing me?"

He grumbles, eyes glued to the screen before him. He bites the stick and chews around it, keeping it balanced between his lips.

"..Just open the door."

Satoru huffs, like hell he's that easy. He's not, he knows he's not because he's told himself this thousands of times.

He resists the overwhelming urge to get up and open the door, so strong it's kinda startling.

"Why should I?"

He hears Suguru sigh from behind the door, before the raven speaks up again.

"Because… I shouldn't have said what I did."

Satoru continues nibbling on his Pocky, trying very hard to stay glued to the bed.

"I wanna apologize properly. Satoru, please?"

Agh, god damn it.

Satoru swings his feet off the bed, setting down his controller. He finishes his Pocky, padding over to the door, unlocking it with a smooth motion.

Suguru stands out in his black tank top and grey pajama shorts, holding a pack of milk bread, Satoru's favorite from the bakery in the city. It's kinda far, even by bus, and so to see in Suguru's hands definitely sparks his curiosity.

"Where'd you get that?"

Satoru mutters, pointing at the plastic bag with the huge milk bread, all wrapped with a neat white bow. Their packaging was always so pretty; it made eating it feel ten times more satisfying.

"The bakery just near the record store with the Kumi Koda cds. It's the one you like."

Satoru pauses, tilting his head. So he really did go into the city, just to give Satoru something he usually never gets unless they're already close by the place.

He pushes his door wider, allowing Suguru to step inside. Satoru's room had always been a mess, unfinished mission reports scattered on the floor, snacks and sunglasses strewn by the foot of the bed. His wall is covered with posters, Digimon, Bleach, YuYu Hakusho, basically any video game or show.

Satoru's well-versed in a whole heap of media, and he prides himself on it!

Suguru steps over the papers, sitting down on Satoru's bed hesitantly like a guilty cat. Satoru follows behind him, taking a seat next to him.

"I'm sorry I lashed out at you like that earlier."

Suguru starts, fingers fiddling with the creases in the bedsheets. Seeing Suguru so nervous almost makes Satoru's anger fizzle out a bit, pour out through his ears, and make his chest feel a little lighter.

"I didn't… I didn't mean that kissing you was bad."

Satoru can't help but bite his lip and will the sudden warmth in his cheeks to die down, because, god, all Suguru said was the truth. How could it suck kissing Satoru? That's like, as good as saying the Earth is flat.

It's just not true!

Even so, hearing it from the other's mouth makes him feel oddly hot.

"It's—I didn't wanna overstep. And when I did, it… freaked me out."

"I told you it was fine! You even said it was fine."

He huffs, watching as Suguru stares down at his hands, practically everywhere but Satoru. It makes him wanna shake the other boy, tell him to look at him, and stop being a wimp.

"…You don't get it, Satoru."

Suguru says quietly, picking at his fingernails.

Well, Suguru said it wasn't bad kissing Satoru, so that means he liked it, didn't he? And Satoru obviously liked it too, like, a lot. He thinks that it's a mutual win-win situation, right? What's the big deal, then?

"I liked it, you liked it, what's there to get? I dunno why you're talkin' in circles—"

"I didn't wanna stop."

Oh.

Okay.

That's definitely new information.

"and—and it's wrong to think like that."

Suguru mumbles, tracing the outline of his own fingernails,

"because you're my best friend. I shouldn't be thinking about you like that."

"What's up with that logic? You keep sayin' that, but it makes no sense at all. Why can't you?"

He breathes,

"You're makin' it look like you're the one who kissed me."

Satoru blurts out, his tongue feeling too big to fit into his own mouth. Throughout this whole thing, Suguru keeps trying to shoulder on the entire responsibility for the kiss, when it was Satoru who was the one who kissed him first.

Sure, Suguru was the one who decided to pounce on him, but does that really matter in the grand scheme of things?

"I kissed you first. So stop actin' like it was one way—"

"That's different, you were trying to win—"

If he interrupted Satoru one more time, he would actually beat his ass.

"No! I wanted to!"

Satoru snaps, leaning forward to catch Suguru's eye, which isn't very hard to do because the other boy immediately snaps his head up at that.

"Satoru don't say things you don't mean—"

"Take your own advice and listen to people when they're talkin'! How do you know I don't mean it?"

He grumbled. If he was being completely honest with himself, Suguru was right—he did wanna win. He'd kissed Suguru because he wanted to win, because he's barely lost games of courage in his life, and Satoru Gojo is used to winning.

But… it's not like he had to.

Suguru's lips just looked so inviting, and Satoru figured it wouldn't hurt to go for it. Oh, how wrong he was. It ended up with both of them lashing out at each other, even if Satoru doesn't regret doing it at all.

".. Okay. What did you mean by it?"

Suguru says carefully, holding Satoru's gaze with the same poorly concealed panic he'd seen in Suguru's eyes that day.

Satoru can't answer that, because even he didn't know what he meant by it. He wanted to kiss Suguru, so what did that mean?

He's still his best friend. Nothing's changed in how Satoru sees Suguru; he still wants him with him and wants to train together, still wants to fool around with him. Does that really mean anything's changed?

Satoru didn't know. He doesn't know if anything was supposed to change.

The only thing that's changed is that Satoru sometimes dreams of kissing Suguru, but isn't it natural? It was his first one! His best one, too.

And it's not the first time, so. Again! Very normal! He figures even Shoko dreams of kissing Haibara or Utahime, since they're all so close all the time, it's only natural that they get curious, right?

"I dunno…"

Satoru mutters, leaning back a little bit. It's not the response he'd wanted to give him, but he genuinely doesn't know what he's supposed to say. So much for insisting he meant it.

Suguru sighs, purses his lips, before scooting closer to Satoru. He shifts until their knees bump together, his hand coming to rest on Satoru's knee. His other hand cups Satoru's cheek, his thumb brushing the hinge of Satoru's jaw softly.

Satoru feels like there's bees in his chest.

"..What if Shoko kissed you? What would you do?"

He asks softly, voice measured as if he's trying to explain something Satoru doesn't quite understand yet.

Satoru can't even imagine kissing Shoko, ew! Her mouth would probably taste like straight smoke with how much she smokes all the time. Satoru would rather lick a bunch of restroom toilets than ever kiss her.

"Blegh. That wouldn't happen. I'd scrub my mouth, she'd give me all her smoker diseases."

Satoru responds easily, holding Suguru's gaze. He can see Suguru's eyes drifting down before catching himself and staring back up at Satoru. It's kinda cute, honestly, the way he keeps correcting himself not to stare, as if Satoru would really mind that. He leans into his palm, just to show Suguru he's comfortable with this, way more than comfortable, as a matter of fact.

"Nanami?"

Suguru continues on, his thumb moving to caress Satoru's bottom lip. Satoru's so glad he put on that vanilla balm when he barged into his room, cause his lips must be smooth to run through.

Plus, it feels amazing.

"Hah! Like that'd ever happen. He'd probably jump in front of a special grade than kiss me."

That's true, Nanami would lick someone's shoes rather than even entertain the possibility of kissing Satoru.

"I meant it more as… would you like it?"

"Nah."

Satoru replies immediately, sees the way Suguru swallows before continuing,

"Haibara? Utahime?

"..Nah. Definetely not Utahime."

"So what makes me different, Satoru?"

Okay. Huh. He's right. What makes Suguru different?

Suguru and he hang out every day, more than Satoru has ever hung out with anyone, even Shoko. They listen to mp3's together at night, go get popsicles together, and play video games all the time. They're even on missions together 24/7!

He doesn't do most of those things with his other friends all the time. It's not like he doesn't do it with Nanami, Haibara, and Shoko, but with Suguru it's… different.

Satoru feels better, if it's with him. He always feels lighter if Suguru is there.

It's Suguru, Satoru would be fine with doing anything with him. They do everything together, and Satoru wouldn't rather anyone else.

"Because you're Suguru."

He answers because it's the only reply he can muster up.

Suguru's movements stop on his lips, and Satoru can barely stifle a whine of complaint. It felt so good, and the other had no reason to stop!

Suguru sucks in a breath, his hand on his knee joining to cup Satoru's cheek, holding his face in his hands. He stares at Satoru with those violet eyes of his, making Satoru's breath catch like always. It's even better in the day, when the sunlight directly catches in those specks of purple. It looks like Suguru's eyes are bathed in pools of gold, looking like something almost otherworldly.

Satoru's startled when Suguru comes closer again, his breath puffing gently against Satoru's lips,

"It won't be a mistake this time..."

Suguru says softly, giving Satoru plenty of time to pull back if he wanted. Of course, he didn't want to.

"…Can I kiss you, Satoru?"

It's like a shot of ecstasy, hearing that sentence come out as a whisper in Suguru's sweet voice.

He sounds like he's dying for it.

Satoru kinda is, too.

"You don't have to ask like that.."

Satoru mutters, his face heating up as Suguru smiles at him like that, like the first snowfall of winter, and then he's leaning in, guiding Satoru's face to press against his own.

It's as good as the first time, Suguru's lips on his. Suguru holds his face just like he'd done that time, making his lungs squeeze in on themselves.

Suguru's cursed energy has always been overwhelming alongside his. It's no surprise, they're both special grades, and if Suguru was Satoru's equal, he'd have to be pretty damn strong, wouldn't he?

And he is, and Satoru marvels at that fact. Suguru's strength and technique are elegant, just like the rest of him, and his cursed energy is no exception. It clashes against Satoru's, just like before, except this time it's easier for the two to tangle their energies together.

It makes him dizzy, like the room's spinning around in circles.

Suguru's hands travel to Satoru's shoulders, pushing him back against the bed. Satoru's knees fold up to accommodate Suguru between them once more, tangling his fingers into his bun to undo it.

Suguru's hair spills into the gaps between his fingers, and Satoru takes the opportunity to run through them, combing through the silky strands. Suguru hums pleasantly against his mouth, basically giving Satoru more incentive to keep running his fingers through inky black.

Satoru can't help the tiny gasps leaving his lips, not when Suguru's sighing his name with so much need, like he's parched and Satoru is the water he's aching for.

Suguru's lips find the corner of Satoru's mouth, his cheek, his jaw, peppering butterfly kisses anywhere he can. It's kinda hard to stay still, especially since Suguru's rubbing his nose against his skin with every kiss.

"Oi—It tickles, don't—"

Satoru starts with a chuckle, turning into full fits of giggles as Suguru deliberately starts planting little kisses on the side of his neck, all in tiny, quick, repeated pecks.

"Suguru!"

Satoru laughs, clutching Suguru's head tighter as he squirms, overwhelmed by the other's affectionate kisses. His knees squeeze Suguru's hips, clinging onto the boy as his body writhes under the extra attention. He can feel Suguru's smile against his warm body, can feel the way Suguru travels over to kiss his Adam's apple.

"Satoru."

Suguru croons, giving one last peck to his neck before moving up to give one to his mouth. Satoru felt as if his entire head was stuffed with cotton candy melting away and coating his brain in sugary sweet syrup.

"Did you know your dimples are really deep?"

He hums, kissing Satoru's dimples, his hands back on Satoru's cheeks. Suguru's palms are always barely pressing, only applying enough pressure to squish his face.

Satoru never, ever wanted this to end.

"Creep. Ya starin'?"

Suguru chuckles, leaning down to kiss Satoru again, thumbing at the skin under his eyes,

"Yeah."

It sounds so earnest, completely honest, not at all what he'd expected Suguru to say. He doesn't know how to respond; he only feels his face heating up like it isn't already on fire.

"Got a problem with that?"

Suguru purrs again, kitten-licking at the seams of Satoru's lips, his Six Eyes beginning to bug out again. He'd be more pissed at the mess of his senses if he wasn't absolutely skipping through a field of daisies in his head, all floaty and giddy from so much attention.

"Nah. I can't blame ya."

Satoru responds easily, almost forgetting to speak, as Suguru presses his chest harder against Satoru's, their hearts pounding against each other.

"You're right. You're really pretty."

Why's Suguru picking the worst time to be honest? Satoru's head is burning up, an engine left in overdrive way too long, and Suguru isn't helping as he showers Satoru's eyes with kisses, pampering him rotten.

"Do your eyes hurt? Last time you got all overwhelmed."

Suguru adds on, voice measured and quiet in case Satoru really is overwhelmed by the sudden sensory overload.

And he should be, probably, but it's nothing he can't handle. He's even surprised the other noticed, since it was difficult for his nannies even to tell when Satoru's Eyes fried his brain. Suguru's more careful than last time, likely from Satoru's meltdown, so it isn't as overstimulating as it would've been.

"They don't hurt."

Satoru mutters, face all warm, watching Suguru take his lips back down to the center of Satoru's collarbone, making him gasp out Suguru's name.

"Tell me if they do."

Suguru says, kissing Satoru's chest through the fabric of his shirt, nosing at the crevice between his collarbone.

Holy. Where did Suguru learn these things from?

Suguru drags his hands over his chest, palms down, all the way until his fingers toy with the seams of Satoru's shirt. He kisses Satoru again, waiting til Satoru grants him access to his mouth again as his palms flatten out against his stomach.

He tastes like heaven itself.

Satoru's body feels warm all over, like he could melt into a whole puddle on the bed right now, everything else be damned.

His hands slide from Suguru's hair to his shoulders, tracing down his biceps, resting there as the sensation of Suguru's lips against his consumes him whole.

Suguru's hands explore all over his chest, his abs, his V-line peeking out beneath his pajama shorts. He settles on rubbing Satoru's stomach with one hand and keeping the other hand under the base of Satoru's spine.

Satoru feels his whole body numb out, melt into pure caramel.

"Satoru… you make it so… impossible."

Suguru mutters against his lips, breaking off the kiss for air they've been starved of for probably five whole minutes. He rests his head against Satoru's shoulder, burying his face into Satoru's heaving figure. His ears are completely red, tinged a pretty pink around the shells.

"Whuh?"

Satoru blinks, completely dazed, his brain swimming around in his skull. Suguru just kissed the hell out of him, honestly, anybody would be off on cloud nine.

Suguru only responds by shifting the hand on his belly to join the one on his spine, squeezing his waist like he's a plush doll and breathing him in.

Satoru instantly relaxes into it, content to let Suguru use him as a pillow or anything he wanted. His arms were clinched around his waist, and Satoru couldn't help but circle his legs around Suguru's hips, trying to pull him close, too.

"I really like you so much.."

Suguru sighs against his shoulder, his admission so quiet and reverent that Satoru would barely have heard it if Suguru weren't so close to him.

Today is just a fever dream, huh? First, they have a really bad argument, and now they're on Satoru's bed, making out. The cherry on the cake, though, is Suguru practically confessing to him.

…or, he hopes so. This is a confession, right?

"Like…like-like?"

Satoru sounds absolutely, positively high. His words are slurred ever so slightly, air all stolen by the boy cuddling him.

Suguru wanting him like that doesn't confuse Satoru as much as it did before, kinda. He's still muddy about his own, but he knows he'd rather lick a hell lot of toilets than not have Suguru, and having him this way is just… natural.

Satoru doesn't know how to explain it, but it feels like this was inevitable.

Caught up in his thoughts, he snaps out of them once more as he feels, more than hears, Suguru's laughter, the other's shoulders shaking with the force of it. Satoru has an overwhelming urge to yank at his hair or tug him up to kiss him senseless. Suguru's like a magnet, so much more carefree than he was moments ago, drawing Satoru in to his pull.

"Like-like, Satoru. Do you think I'd do this with just anyone?"

Satoru doesn't like the idea of that at all.

"You better not."

"I didn't know you were the jealous type."

Suguru snickers, looking up from Satoru's shoulder, grin as bright as a thousand suns. Satoru doesn't know what he did in his past life, but he's sure as hell grateful for it now if it meant he got to see Suguru's blushing face smiling at him like that.

He wanted to see it more, forever if he really got his way.

Huh.

Maybe he like-likes Suguru, too.

"What if I am? You gonna run away?"

Satoru huffs, one of his hands tangled in Suguru's hair, scratching at his scalp. Suguru simply laughs at that—holy shit, he looks lovesick as hell—staring up at Satoru with a lazy grin.

"I lost my chance a while ago."

Suguru says easily, in that same saccharine tone that makes Satoru's body melt against him.

"Ehh, how mean! You know you wouldn't wanna!"

Satoru pouts, poking Suguru's head and tugging it away from his shoulder. Suguru rolls his eyes, squeezing Satoru tighter and planting another peck on his collarbone, nosing along the junction in his shoulder.

"Yeah, definitely not now."

He's making it so hard to be annoyed at him, jeez. Suguru's got some kinda oral fixation or something, the minute he had free reign to kiss Satoru, that's all he's been doing.

Satoru has done nothing but encourage that. No reason to tell him to stop if he wants it just as bad, right?

Suguru continues to press lazy kisses to his neck, his hands stroking up and down his spine slowly, savoring every bit of warmth that radiates off of Satoru's skin.

It makes him wonder what they're gonna do after this. Suguru said he like-likes Satoru, and that usually means he wants to be his boyfriend, if he's right.

That's how it goes in his comics! Boy meets girl, boy likes her, girl does too, and bam, they're together.

Suguru's a fairly attractive guy, like, he's totally Satoru's type if he really thought about it. Even if they didn't go making out with each other three different times, Satoru would still think Suguru is a pretty good-looking dude. Long hair, strong, can keep up with him, funny, smart, confident. His eyes are a whole different topic. Hell, actually, their eyes even compliment each other!

Blue and purple are analogous colors on the wheel, which basically means they're easy to blend together. (Satoru knows that because of some random pamphlet he'd read in Naoshima, chalk full of artists and exhibits.)

And what are Satoru and Suguru if not completely blended with each other?

Satoru totally wouldn't mind dating him.

But Suguru hasn't said anything in the past few minutes other than basically admitting his crush on Satoru, and so, he kinda doesn't know where they stand. He assumes they're dating?

Not that he really cares about this kinda stuff, he's more than happy to be spoiled down to the last ring of hell if he can help it. Suguru doesn't seem keen on stopping anytime soon, either, so he figures it's fine, he doesn't have to bring anything up.

Except he's kinda itching to know.

"Does this mean we're dating?"

Satoru murmured, because that's what it sounds like. He like-likes Satoru, and Satoru wants to be with him, wants Suguru by his side.

The boy in question simply blinks, his grin turning into soft chuckles, pressing a kiss just under Satoru's jaw.

"I don't know, Satoru, you haven't told me if you like-like me too."

Suguru's chuckling is enough to hammer away any doubt in Satoru's mind, he wants to make Suguru laugh even more, just like this. He wants to kiss again, he wants to bite Suguru and—

Fuck, he's so, so totally got a huge fat crush on his best friend.

It's a realization that comes out of nowhere, sure, but Satoru figures he's always kinda felt that way, and this whole thing just… shoved him towards all the ignored neon signs screaming "you have a crush on your best friend!"

"You know the answer to that."

Satoru huffs, ruffling up Suguru's hair and giggling when the other nips at his earlobe.

"You're gonna have to tell me. I can't read your mind."

Satoru huffs, rolling his eyes at his best friend. He sounds too smug for his own good, practically purring against Satoru's ear. He tugs at Suguru's hair, digging his ankle into the other's hip lightly.

"Better get to it."

He answers, yelping when Suguru bites at his ear in retaliation. Suguru's wandering mouth is really making Satoru pay the price for letting him do whatever he wants. Not that he's complaining.

"Is there a reason why I have to? Are you too embarassed to say it?"

Suguru cooes, in that condescending manner that brings unbearable warmth to Satoru's face. Embarassed? Him? As if.

"No I'm not! You're puttin' words in my mouth!"

Satoru grumbles, turning his head to the side with a pout. That only makes Suguru laugh, shifting up to try to peck Satoru's lips again, but Satoru just turns his head more. If Suguru can tease him, he can definitely tease back.

"Satoruu…I went out of my way to buy you milk bread, isn't there a way to give me a proper thank you?"

Suguru hums, squeezing Satoru's waist and kissing the apple of his cheek. Satoru's never, ever seen Suguru this clingy before, and it's a very welcome change.

He can't really deny Suguru any longer, not when he's so cute and Satoru's been dying to see that pretty pink darken on his boyfriend's face.

Satoru turns his head to bump his nose against Suguru's, pressing his lips against his once more, almost numb from how many times they've done this exact thing now. Suguru melts into it completely, relaxing simply from Satoru's nails dragging against his head.

Satoru's arms loop themselves around Suguru's head, just relaxing into the lazy kiss. They're just as clingy as they always are, maybe a little worse, constantly kissing each other now that they found out it was mutual on both sides.

Suguru's the one to break it off, his face flushed just as red as Satoru wanted it to be. Score!

"I still haven't heard it, Satoru."

He breathes out softly, placing his palms on either side of Satoru's head, letting his hair fall around them like a curtain. It's all so reminiscent of the first time they'd done this, a really bad case of deja vu.

Satoru grins up at him, sticking out his tongue playfully.

"I'm hungry for that milk bread. Get me some and maybe you'll hear something you'll like."

He purrs, hearing Suguru scoff before planting another kiss to his cheek, pushing off of Satoru carefully. He uses this opportunity to lean his back against the headboard, waiting for Suguru to grab the package of bread that'd fallen to the floor in their haste.

His knees are loosely folded up to his chest, watching the way Suguru's hair slightly flows like a waterfall across his shoulders. It's not longer than shoulder-length, but it still catches the shimmer through the window.

After leaning down to get the bread off the floor, Suguru sits up, dropping the bread and some other box in the empty space between Satoru's legs. Suguru folds his knees to sit in front of Satoru, unwrapping the package for him.

Satoru parts his lips, waiting for Suguru to rightfully feed him the pillows of genuine heaven. He really, really loves milk bread, it's so soft, and it melts in his mouth, sending him straight through every Sagga* imaginable.

Suguru only sighs fondly before breaking a piece off, feeding it to Satoru without much commentary. He only softly stares as if he's resigned himself to his behavior, like he's exactly where he wants to be.

"Tank you, my schweeeet, lovable boyfriend, who I like-like veeey much!"

Satoru sing-songs through a mouthful of bread, grinning widely at Suguru who only snickers again, pinching Satoru's cheek gently.

"Don't talk with your mouth full."

He chides, but it's practically useless because Suguru doesn't sound stern about it at all. Satoru only chuckles, tilting his head off to the side as he chews through pure bliss.

He notices the box of Pocky sitting next to the plastic wrapping of the milk bread. He leans forward to grab it, grimacing at the flavor yet choosing to open it anyway.

"You're such a glutton, you haven't even finished the bread."

Now Suguru sounds more admonishing, but Satoru doesn't pay him any mind. He's totally got a charming trick up his sleeve, and he knows Suguru will totally swoon!

"Satoru, you don't even like that flavor."

"Stop yammering for a second, I have to do something!"

He grumbles, ripping the package open, holding one stick between his lips, leaning forward with a smirk.

"Suguru, wanna play a game of chicken?"

Suguru pauses, blinking at Satoru before bursting out into soft laughter—he's been laughing so much—and sets down the bread on the plastic before carefully leaning forward, biting one end of the stick.

Satoru leans forward easily, nibbling at the chocolate end even if it tastes like bitter trash.

Suguru makes a show of leaning forward, but when Satoru's about to bite his end, he tugs the stick out of their mouth, pecking Satoru's lips.

"Do we really need a game to do this now?"

…No, Satoru supposes they don't. Well, screw him for trying to be romantic.

And hungry.

"It's more fun that way."

Satoru grumbles, not at all moving away from this position. Suguru makes him feel all warm in a way that makes the summer heat bearable, makes his heart slow down a few paces to focus more on his breath since Suguru keeps stealing it all away.

"Are you saying it's not fun to just kiss me?"

Suguru says in a low tone, moving closer, and god, where did all that awkwardness go?

"Yeah. Wanna prove me wrong?"

Satoru retorts, humming in satisfaction when Suguru rolls his eyes but gives in anyway, indulging Satoru with another sickeningly sweet press of lips.

He can faintly taste the chocolate on Suguru's lips, and it only makes him want more, leaning forward to cup Suguru's gorgeous face.

Pocky tastes incredible, especially chocolate, when it's from Suguru's mouth.