Limitlesses - Tumblr Posts

𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐔𝐋 𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐕𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 —-- especially towards that of Gojo Satoru.  Or perhaps the young six eyed prodigy had given him a false sense of confidence… either way, Suguru knew exactly how to rile Satoru up with minimal effort.  

❛ Can you really be the strongest if you always have to rely on your powers to win a fight? ❜  Suguru had teased earlier with a wry smile.  That smug conviction on Satoru’s face as he so crudely addressed one of their teachers had irked Suguru a bit.  Satoru could be so rude to their superiors sometimes…

Ah, but now here he was —-- a mere result of his own instigation, standing before Satoru in the middle of their school’s training grounds after class.  His hands in his pockets, his demeanor calm, collected…

❝ …Well?  Let’s see what you’ve got, Satoru, ❞  Suguru all but croons, baiting his best friend to make the first move. The curse user wasn’t worried in the slightest about defending himself —--- martial arts had always been a passion of his; a release from all of the pressure that came with their chosen areas of study.  

Suguru ever so slightly widens his stance in anticipation of Satoru’s launch, centering his body and mind as those thin fingers of his flex within the confines of his pant pockets. 'Bring it on.' // @limitlesses

❝ Great comeback. How long did it take you to come up with that one~? ❞

❝ -- oh yeah? And that sounds like something a really big nerd would say. ❞

𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐘𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌; their back and forth bickering —-- snide commentary and confidence that so easily turns into arrogance when they really get going. 

Despite their familiarity with this entire scene, Suguru can’t help but bristle at the mention of himself acting self-righteous.  Why is that always Satoru’s counter argument whenever he so much as challenges or questions him?  Now Suguru is more annoyed than anything else —- his eyebrows furrowing in frustration as he takes a few steps forward, closing some of the distance between them.

❝ —-- Is that really what you think I’m doing? ❞ Suguru speaks plainly, his head tilting slightly as he looks at his friend. ❝ Surely you don’t think so little of me. ❞

One beat passes, then two —-- … and before Satoru can even whip up some snarky reply, Suguru’s taking an impossibly fast step forward with the intention to strike. A flattened hand comes up towards Satoru’s neck, its goal to knock the air out of Satoru's windpipe before coming back in with a swift elbow upwards into the other's sharp jaw. If the first strike lands, Suguru will be able to end this session quite quickly ---- though he doubts Satoru will give him that satisfaction.

𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐑𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐆𝐎𝐀𝐃 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐅𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑, not that he needed to try any harder -- the two students could be quite hot-headed, though Satoru normally took the brunt of that reputation solely because he happened to be audibly louder during their disputes. This wasn't so bad, though, they were already off training (for the most part) when the remark on his supposed reliance on his powers came to the forefront of their bickering. To that, he scoffed obnoxiously, rolling his eyes pointedly to make the mere suggestion all the more ridiculous-sounding.

❝ That's an awfully good excuse someone weak would use to justify them not being able to beat me. Besides, I don't rely on my powers, it's like breathing to me ---- do you want me to hold my breath? It's not my fault that my default seems too powerful to you. ❞ His snide remark came easily, swift as the grin that split his expression into a more wild, riled state. Not that his pride was so easily wounded, but simply that he felt excitement at the chance to prove himself, yet again, as a formidable force to be reckoned with. He rolled his left shoulder, stepping one pace closer.

❝ But why not, I'll bite. Wanna safeword ? ❞ He chuckled, tilting his chin up, his own beckoning -- he didn't want to charge first, not with how he knew Suguru was already goading, and he'd not play into his hands so easily.

The cloaking power that typically eased around the air surrounding him ceased, draping away and inward as though a deep inhale. Satoru could decide who and what was able to touch him in the midst of daily interactions (though he rarely found reason to maintain the ability whilst on Jujutsu High's protected grounds, unless training) as well as most clear-cut fights, but in this case he deliberately cast away the entirety of Infinity for the sake of sportsmanship. He knew Suguru wouldn't be the type to fight dirty and for blood in a brawl, he trusted that much.

He didn't fall into any stance, accustomed to not needing to -- and it felt natural, his authentic immovable self.

❝ C'mon, don't be shy~ Can't turn this into one of your self-righteous lectures if you don't show me how it's done, right ? ❞

𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐇 𝐅𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆, especially against Satoru.  He knew fully well what hills Satoru was willing to die on, though sometimes he couldn’t help but poke and prod the other in a way that left them brawling after class  ( or, hell, even during class. )  Eventually they’d get tired enough to make peace —-- laughing it off whilst agreeing to drop the subject.  They were both headstrong and stubborn; two opposing yet interconnected forces that were unstoppable when they actually worked together.

They were the strongest, after all.

Satoru could drive Suguru crazy sometimes, yes —-- but the intensity of those feelings always came from a place of love … even if Suguru himself was unaware of that longing; of that desire that nestled itself deep within him, setting up a permanent residence in his heart and soul.

‘I don’t think little of you, just your idealogy.’  A spark of anger at that —- a flame alight in those violet eyes as Satoru blocks his first attack with his forearm.  Suguru expected as much; those six eyes of his coming in handy when analyzing all angles of a potential fight.  The curse user wouldn’t hold that against him, of course —- Satoru would never know what it was like to not have that exceptional ability.  An innate gift of the Gojo clan ; a passive yet extraordinary visual prowess that made reaching his particular level as a sorcerer impossible.  

But Suguru is, however, quite pleased with himself when he manages to connect his elbow with Satoru’s jaw. So much so, that the curled hook the young prodigy aimed at his side went unnoticed as his adrenaline kicked in —-- Suguru palming that bony knee of Satoru’s and pushing it roughly back towards the ground before he was moving back to put some distance between them.

Suguru’s lips fall into a perfect, easy smile —-- that boyish charm written all over his face as he gazes at Satoru, who’s now rubbing at his jaw and calling him a tryhard. 

Ha.

❝ Not bad, Satoru —- next time focus on your defense before trying to hit me. ❞  Suguru then walks over to where the Satoru’s sunglasses landed, and picks them up.  He extends them akin to a peace offering, not wanting his best friend to develop a migraine on top of a sore jaw.

❝ Want to go again? ❞

𝐎𝐇 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐎 𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐘, Suguru's own taunting swiftly flipped into a disadvantage once Satoru tapped into the good ol' trigger-phrase for most, if not all of, their typical brawls. He didn't say it because he looked down on Suguru in particular, of course, but because he had yet to get a proper comeback in response -- no denial of said self-righteousness, no deflection to hide it, nothing in any attempt to dissuade Satoru from believing that to be the truth somewhere deep down. Even if Suguru spoke like a saint, he gave off the vibe of someone that could pivot into such territories that his great heroic speeches about protecting the weak could be in complete condemnation of said weaklings. Or something like that.

That, or Satoru simply couldn't help himself if it meant making Suguru abandon his composed disposition and goodie-two-shoes act.

❝ I don't think little of you, just your ideology. ❞ He teased, but -- welllllll.... it was half-true. They'd get into it further once this was over.

Powers or no, Satoru's eyes were still keen and quick to adjust to the speed in which Suguru attacked -- he had watched Suguru practicing on dummies before, or the unfortunate first year that trickled into Jujutsu High... so he knew to expect a swift kick or two the moment the attempt to punch him fell through. So he opted to lift his forearm to block the hit to his neck, favoring not staggering his footing to dodge if it meant he could get swept off his feet in the process. In rapid succession, he jabbed his other hand out in a curled hook aimed straight for Suguru's side.

But... he was so focused on his quick block-counter that he didn't expect the fucking elbow. And so swiftly after a thrown punch made it hard to see up close and personal, stupid -- ! The jolt of his jaw getting struck made his head snap up and to the side, a grunt and subsequent loss of his sunglasses as they flew straight off the bridge of his nose and clattered off onto the ground somewhere was likely almost as satisfying to Suguru as the clean connection that had landed on Satoru about .005 seconds into their spar.

Satoru kicked out an annoyed knee-to-the-gut as a hail mary, using the motion of doing so to also step back and gain some distance. Ow.

❝ -- tch, TRYHARD. ❞ Animation-canceling bullshit, that.

𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐈𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐅 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐄 —- even when frustrated or angry, the boy prided himself in the control he asserted over his emotions and reactions to things.  It took a lot to break that control ; that calm, collected air of confidence he carried with him wherever he went.  Even now, whilst adrenaline surged and an amused smile tugged at his lips, his chivalrous side remained fully intact. 

A breathy laugh filled the air as Satoru snagged back his sunglasses and pouted at him. Suguru almost found it —- aaah, well … nevermind.

❝ I know, I know.  That’s why we’re doing thi—!! ❞

Whoa, that rush was unexpected!  Suguru was impressed as Satoru used the element of surprise to his advantage.  He manages to block Satoru’s jabbing punch with his forearm, but falls short of protecting his footing as Satoru sweeps out a kick meant to knock the curse user on his ass.  While Suguru knows he’s about to go down, he catches himself all the same —-- leaning into the fall by pressing his palms against the grass beneath him, and using what remains of his momentum to lunge back up with the thrust of his hips. He’s back on his feet in no time, though a bit sweaty as a result of the quick movements. 

Suguru aims a hard punch to Satoru’s nose, while at the same time, bringing his knee up to make contact with Satoru’s groin. He can feel the slight bruising now at his side from where Satoru made contact earlier, but ignores it in hopes that one of these attacks will manage to land and give him an opportunity to put the other in checkmate.

𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐇𝐈𝐓, it just... didn't happen often, if at all, unless he intentionally allowed it (like the principle's disciplining smacks, he knew better than to negate those and make the guy more pissed off at him than he already was) ... so yes, he was going to rub at his jaw for a moment once he staggered back a step and steadied himself with a huff and puff of irked breaths.

Suguru was already retrieving his glasses like this was some game they could pause mid-punch, throwing off his flow of things almost entirely. Usually they brawled with reckless abandon, but this seemed to be a genuine training session. To think he was about to lunge at the guy -- but he reluctantly snagged his sunglasses back, sliding them back on with a noticeable pout. He didn't like, in this context, that Suguru knew that the world was a little more bearable to take in when he wore these. It felt like a weakness. It felt like a vulnerability that could easily be taken advantage of if he wasn't careful. Blinding him, if Infinity could ever be bypassed, was likely the best route to go if one wanted to really beat him -- he surmised that much ever since he was a young boy, given how everyone and their mother knew about his techniques due to his clan's fame.

In the context of a spar, he half-expected Suguru to not want to give the sunglasses back, to continue without them as though to further test him and train him for the various 'what ifs' that surrounded this particular scenario. Satoru could operate without them, of course, but the flux of overwhelming information that came rushing in was a little difficult to digest at times. Especially if nearby sorcerers were doing their own training, flares of energy igniting in his mind's eye akin to fireworks of which he could see each and every colored particle with a vividness, feel the fluttering sparks against his temples, feel the burning in his brain. Didn't matter if there were a hundred concrete walls between them, he'd see it all. But not a fucking elbow, apparently.

❝ My typical defense is down, you know. I'm adjusting. ❞ Yeah, that was his excuse. But he wouldn't admit he was reliant, hell no !

Taking in another breath, he paused, shifted his feet, then lunged for Suguru ---- this time he went for a sharp jabbing punch against the side he previously managed to land a hit on, hoping to nail some freshly bruising skin underneath with another blow. In quick succession, he hoped to cut Suguru's own potential move off with a sweeping kick to knock against the guy's ankles and upend him entirely. The best defense was a good offense, right ?!

𝐎𝐊𝐀𝐘, 𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐋 —- 𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐔𝐋𝐀𝐑 𝐇𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐄𝐗𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐄.  But it was a common line of offense, aiming for areas that would incapacitate the other person!  Someone that wanted you out of the picture wouldn’t hesitate to go for the throat, eyes, or groin… he was only being thorough!

❝ Shit, Satoru! —--I didn’t think that would land… ❞  Suguru says with a wince.  He knows first-hand how bad a hit down there hurts. He’s quick to make his way over to the other, who’s now curled up in a fetal position at his feet. Suguru crouches down, and places his hand atop Satoru’s shoulder. ❝ I’m sorry — that was a low blow.  You were doing so well, too! ❞

Ahhh, Suguru was already regretting the hell out of this whole training session… he didn’t actually want to HURT Satoru. Maybe wound his ego a little, but…

❝ Let me treat you to dinner, hm?  Or maybe a few rounds of Gundam: Extreme V’s??  You choose! ❞

𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐘𝐄𝐓! A hit or two to his pride didn't mean he wasn't going to give this little spar of theirs one hundred percent of his effort, give or take the natural ebb and flow of the pacing given Suguru's brief pause to retrieve his sunglasses. The blow to Suguru's side was deterred, but not his sweeping kick ---- but fuck, the guy was flexible, nimble -- like one of those wobbly punching bags that just swung right back after taking a hit, because up he came, flinging back into Satoru's space and issuing a jab squarely at his nose. Satoru staggered backwards to avoid it connecting, jerking his head to one side to make sure he didn't miscalculate the length of Suguru's arm.

❝ -- oi, oi ! That could've broken my-- ❞ --nose, shades, pick one or both, but he didn't have time to elaborate further because Suguru managed to sneak a hit. A direct hit, to be exact -- one that immediately had him wheezing and doubling over into an extremely shameless fetal position curled on the floor. He held a breath in till it stung, figuring he might just die from this, then let out the loudest possible shout.

❝ FUCK !! ❞

What the fuck, man.

𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐍, 𝐎𝐔𝐓 —--- 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒. 𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍 𝐈𝐓 𝐎𝐅𝐅 …. 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐏 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐈𝐓.  An endless mantra that Suguru voiced inwardly, repeating over and over since returning to Jujutsu High.  But there was no turning it off. Not when his chest still ached from the wounds inflicted by Toji’s cursed weapon, still fresh in both muscle memory and mind.  Shoko had stopped his injuries from progressing, healing him quickly, sufficiently enough for Suguru to get back to what mattered.  But that didn’t stop the ache, or the bruising… a scar would surely remain, though he wasn’t sure the physicality of such a wound held any significance to him, now.

Not when he was washing the caked blood off of Satoru’s skin —-- watching as it swirled down the drain at their feet, staining the tiles below. 

Breathe in, out … stop thinking about it.

This was his fault. Satoru’s vacant stare, his inability to feel… Suguru swallowed around the lump lodged in his throat, ignoring the ever-present sting in his eyes. He shouldn’t have ever left Satoru with Tōji —-- shouldn’t have assumed that they were both untouchable. 

Satoru would recover from this, he was sure … he already had.  The man could bounce back from anything —-- and yet here Suguru was, shaken to the core.  How pathetic … a result of his own actions, he firmly believed.  Some fucked up sense of karma.  He deserved to feel weak, powerless to stop all of the events that had unfolded. His fault. His fault—---

They had made their way to Suguru’s bed shortly after cleansing this fucked up day from their exhausted bodies.  Suguru had found a comfortable place against Satoru’s side, his head resting on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his partner’s heartbeat. Breathe in, out —- close your eyes. 

And so he did, though the sound of clapping crept into his mind all the same.  Like white noise in the background of everything else; an endless loop, though the intensity of its sound would ebb and flow, dependent upon what other thoughts plagued his mind. Suguru furrowed his brows in frustration, unable to fully rest, even with the reminder that Satoru was here, alive, laying beside him.  It was because of this frustration that Suguru felt the other tense up —-- conscious enough to feel him twitch, before that invisible forcefield surrounded his partner and flooded the room, sending Suguru roughly into the opposing wall.

Suguru panicked, his eyes widening as he watched Satoru flinch, curling up in the curse user’s bed as if to protect himself from some invisible force. Suguru went to stand, though the movement made the muscles in his chest tighten uncomfortably; ultimately, he would opt to take a moment of pause before trying again.  The remnants of applause faded away fully, this time, in favor of the fear now drowning out all other emotions and thoughts.  A nightmare… This had to be a nightmare, right?

❝ -----Satoru, ❞  he called out, though Suguru’s voice was rough, still quite shaken from the unexpected thrust out of his partner’s warm embrace.  He watched as Satoru regained consciousness, as Infinity fell away once more.  Only then did he motion to stand, walking back to the bed where Satoru now sat upon its edge.  Suguru watched as he rubbed at his face.  His fault.  His fault…

Suguru was quick to reach for him, covering Satoru's hand with his own, now resting upon the side of Satoru’s face.  He squeezed, then —-- making a point to look deeply into Satoru’s eyes, directing his attention away from those heightened senses. ❝ I’m fine. I’m more worried about you. Don’t leave —--... please, ❞ he all but pleaded, kneeling down between Satoru’s legs, his own thighs now pressed against the edge of the mattress. Suguru placed a gentle kiss to his lips, before leaning his forehead against Satoru’s. 

❝ It was just a nightmare.  You’re safe, now —- I promise, you’re safe. ❞

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐏𝐓 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓, 𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐋. Just a few hours earlier, once Shoko had finished with Suguru's healing, a vacant-eyed Satoru had been helped out of his blood-ruined and tattered uniform. There were no wounds to heal, nothing in need of Shoko's attention, though Suguru had been thorough in washing away the blood that dried and stuck itself in a mess across pale skin. Satoru hadn't really fully processed everything yet, his mind still whirring, coming down from the high of death and rebirth, of seeing everything, of feeling such immense power at his fingertips that he was utterly emptied, as though power and emotion couldn't coexist. Or maybe that was just shock, the body of Amanai Riko limp in his arms, the smell of coppery blood, the thunderous applause ----

It had taken the both of them over an hour to actually drift off to sleep after the joint shower, bodies intertwined gently, tentatively almost, as though careful not to break one another. Or something like that. But Satoru's sleep was always on the lighter side, sensitive to every rustle and approaching person his Six Eyes could see through his eyelids, through the hallway, whenever his sleep drifted toward REM. It made for some interesting dreams, the way he'd feel reality bleed into the unconscious realm -- seeing people, shapes, things that weren't there but in actuality were several buildings away.

This time, he was downright certain that his eyes weren't seeing something that was there. Like a creeping shadow, he felt a prickle at the nape of his neck, a shiver ---- bristling, the absence of sensory input and yet alarm bells were ringing; needing to look behind him, the looming sense of killing intent and yet no cursed energy to track, save for the strange worm on his shoulder.

Satoru twitched in his sleep, tensing, absorbed into the belief that Toji was coming to finish him off -- an abrupt flooding of Infinity outward practically shoved Suguru off the bed, away from him, their intertwined bodies forcibly parted due to the blooming force that safeguarded Satoru as easily as one breathed. But he wasn't breathing easy now, dead-caught in the midst of a nightmare, tightly coiled in on himself, labored breaths and -- a choked noise, breathing catching halfway in his throat. He kept trying to swallow past the discomfort, a cold blade lodged in his throat -- and he couldn't ---- he was dying !

Until he wasn't, brightened eyes snapped wide open with a heaved gasping breath, fingers flying up to clutch blearily at his own neck.

Shakily, with labored breathing lingering on with the tremors from his nightmare's residuals, he realized there was nothing wedged in his windpipe, nothing bleeding him out nor was he in any danger at all. He was in bed, and Suguru ... ----

He turned his head toward where he sensed (saw, smelled, felt within his soul) Suguru was, eyes blinking, hiding away any looming spark of panic that could've slipped in through the cracks.

❝ a-ah, Ss... uguru, sorry. ❞ Infinity dissipated once he realized that the other man hadn't been an assailant but his partner cuddled up against him. Infinity dropped away, ceasing its separating force -- which allowed Suguru to approach, to touch, when all attempts prior would've been futile.

Now he felt shitty; Suguru was technically still 'on the mend' with Shoko advising he take things easy for a few days at least. Now here he was getting launched off his own bed because Satoru power-sneezed and lost control. He sat upright, swinging his legs over the edge of their bed, placing his face into a hand with a lengthy wipe of it down over his otherwise uncovered eyes. He must've gotten maybe... thirty minutes of rest? Perhaps this would be a good opportunity to see how well he could use his reverse cursed technique to lessen the ache of needing sleep and being incapable of finding it.

❝ Are you okay? I didn't mean to -- I can go sleep in my own room, instead. ❞

@svgurugeto // within twenty-four hours since the events of Hidden Inventory.

𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄, 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐔𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓-𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃; a gaze into the nothingness beyond, as if he weren’t even there.  He could feel his heart sink as his violet eyes desperately searched Satoru’s blue, looking for something, anything, to hold onto… that reminded him of who they had been, before all of this.

It turns out that there were many different ways to lose one’s innocence.  They had experienced loss before —-- what sorcerer hadn’t? —-- but here, now, Suguru felt like he was mourning the loss of his best friend.  Not to mention the love of his life.

No, no —- he couldn’t think like that.  Satoru was here… they would get through this.  They had to.

❝ You think this is all on you?  You died, Satoru —- we were back in a place where we were supposed to be protected.  You hadn’t slept in days… ❞ 

Suguru screwed his eyes shut, the dull ache of his teeth gritted together, his jaw flexing as he worked through his emotions, getting the better of him.  He breathed out a sigh, before continuing his painful line of thought. ❝ —-...I should’ve never left your side.  If we had fought him together, things would’ve been different.  It wouldn’t have gotten so bad.  I can’t help but think—-- ❞

❝ …I can’t help but think that you would’ve been fine, and Amanai-san would’ve gotten to make her choice… to be free to live out her life on her terms. ❞

Shit…. He needed to stop talking.  He wasn’t used to expressing himself this much; this level of openness left him feeling too exposed, too vulnerable —- especially with how Satoru was now; emotionless, as he rebuilt himself from nothing.  Suguru was setting himself up for heartbreak.

❝ I can’t sleep either.  I was barely asleep before all of this, anyway. And I honestly can’t even picture you reading through one of my books.  I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen you read a book, now that I’m thinking about it. ❞  He let out an exasperated chuckle, at that.

𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐄𝐏𝐓 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃, 𝐏𝐀𝐋𝐌 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐆𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐄 to alleviate the rush that came with Six Eyes brimming with power so carelessly flared in his sleep. Satoru normally didn't have this issue -- yes, he struggled to sleep at times, but this... level of nightmare was certainly a first, vibrating within his veins a false alarm to remain vigilant. He felt embarrassed on top of shaken, the whole thing was stupid. He weakly scoffed at himself, puffing out a hiss of air whilst keeping his head down. Only when Suguru reached to touch him, to place that hand against his own and guide it down and away from his eyes, did he slowly lift his head. His eyes were bright, sharp, yet equally so... distant. A different kind of infinity stretched between them now, one Satoru couldn't articulate or control.

❝ You're not fine, he... got to you -- to both of you -- because I messed up. ❞

That was difficult to say, knowing it'd open the floodgates for the fresh wounds they both carried, but he needed to make it known; it wasn't Suguru's fault. And Satoru wasn't wallowing -- or seeking comfort, despite how truly comforting it was to have Suguru press their foreheads together, to kiss, to breathe in his scent. He could've been eased into softness, into admiration and gratitude, if he wasn't so... off. Ultimately, what he said was spoken as fact, because that was the truth.

And the worst part was perhaps the fact that if he was anything other than who, or what, he was now... maybe Suguru's words of comfort, of admitting feeling worried about him, of wanting him to stay... -- those could've all separately sustained him, made his heart clench and ache and in a good way, albeit painful from the swell of it all. But now? He wanted to almost laugh; who could promise he was safe? That was something only he himself could promise, now. Jujutsu High wasn't safe, that much was drilled into the both of them now with a harsh certainty.

❝ You can go back to sleep, I'll -- I'll stay, but I need to... fuck, I don't know, pace a hole in the floor? ❞ He let out a feeble chuckle, smiling -- it didn't reach his eyes. ❝ Maybe I'll read one of your books, if you have a recommendation. ❞ He had kept watch each night spent in Okinawa, he could do it for a few more nights until the prickling need to do so wore off.

𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐘 —-- that there had indeed been something off about Satoru ever since he had somehow managed to turn away from death’s door.  He hadn’t really asked him what had happened yet, or what it had been like —--... he didn’t quite know what to say, really, or how to approach the subject.  Not when the weight of his own guilt threatened to swallow him whole.

And it wasn’t like his own failures weren’t haunting him at the very same time... —-He had instilled a sense of hope in Amanai before that bullet pierced her skull. Suguru had given her some cruel illusion of choice, in those final moments.

Still, though … the quiet, precise way in which Satoru spoke left Suguru feeling like there were a hundred miles between them.  The young curse user’s hands drifted down to Satoru’s thighs, resting atop the soft material of his sweatpants. He pulled his forehead away from Satoru’s, then, though his eyes remained transfixed on the other’s, searching for any sign of the boy he knew less than 12 hours ago. His palms almost felt sweaty —-- Oh, how Suguru wanted to grip at that fabric underneath his palms out of sheer frustration —-- to scream into the infinity stretching between them.  Even if Satoru had let that ability fall away from him, Suguru still felt its invisible presence; a protective armor around the other that felt almost impenetrable now.

But it wasn’t strong enough to deter Suguru.  Not now, not ever —-- especially in a moment such as this.

Suguru watched with his heart permanently lodged in his throat as Satoru began breaking in front of him —-- those blue eyes now closed with the bonus layer of protective hands covering them, too; easily avoiding the emotion nestled in Suguru’s own watery gaze. Just hearing the way Satoru’s voice cracked made Suguru want to cry as well, though he held himself together just enough to gently run his thumbs across Satoru’s knuckles —-- his hands moving to rest upon the other’s, hoping to pry them away from Satoru’s eyes so he could see him, truly see him.

❝ If there is, we’ll weather it together, ❞  Suguru replied quietly, his own voice rough around the edges.  The fact that Satoru was even aware that something was wrong, that something felt off, gave Suguru enough hope that the other would figure out a way through this. That they both would.

Thin, graceful hands continued to pry away at Satoru’s carefully crafted armor.  Suguru pressed a gentle kiss to each digit as it was freed, only to eventually lace their fingers together, and squeeze.

❝ The only way out is through, Satoru.  Talk to me… tell me what’s going on in that head of yours. Let me help you. ❞

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐖, he was closer to the vacant-eyed almost-killer that Suguru stopped from taking that extra step. Suguru, should we kill these people? I probably won't feel anything if we do. There was a numbing thrum behind his eyes, something that had him practically unable to blink, a drumming heartbeat, an ache. Did he need to cry? He didn't know. He couldn't tell. Maybe it'd be right to cry, maybe that was what felt wrong with him -- the fact that he couldn't.

Something's off.

❝ It IS all on me. I shouldn't have assumed we were safe, I shouldn't have lowered my guard. Even if we fought together, he could've killed her. He was fast, Suguru. Faster than us both. I'm relieved that you left my side. He wanted Amanai and I dead, not you, and selfishly... I'm glad for that. ❞ He spoke firmly, reminiscent of their bickering in which an unstoppable force met an immovable object -- but his voice was calm, level, quiet, as though reciting some written fact without any underlying strong desire to convince Suguru to see it as the truth that it was.

He watched Suguru, those keen eyes of his fully aware of every tell that signaled off like flare guns -- how Suguru was pained, felt guilt, that averted gaze and the way his expression wrenched into something agonized. He would've thrown himself into the goofiest displays, made the most annoying comments -- smiled, joked, done anything, kissed him till he sputtered out laughs and tried shoving his face away, Satoru would've practically dragged Suguru to an arcade or to go sight-seeing, grab sweets on their way home ---- oh, he would've done all of that and more whenever he noticed one-tenth of Suguru's current despair. He felt emptied, he felt far away from himself. He should feel something, some sort of -- what was wrong with him ?! Snap out of it !

❝ I -- ... ❞

He dipped his head down again, then turned his gaze, eyes looking -- not seeing, seeing everything. There was a car crash on the highway two miles away, someone on the phone down the hall, a line of ants crawling up a tree in the forest beyond Jujutsu High. There were flares of colors, blooming lights, pulsating power and essences of life drifting like lanterns through the night.

❝ Suguru, I think -- ❞ It was too much. He shut his eyes and it was still too much. Maybe he needed to cry, maybe he'd try to, but he couldn't. There was a wall between the sensation being a mere thought and reality. He took in a shaky breath, covering his face with his hands, rubbing at his eyes to help ease the ache. He couldn't muster another smile at Suguru's words, he felt like he was slowly chipping away at whatever wall this was that had him feeling so closed off even with Infinity dropped. Normally, he'd rile to the challenge of Suguru's implication that he couldn't and wouldn't read books. But he felt empty, he felt wrong.

A small crack, and the emotions flooded through. He didn't dare lift his head now, his voice a hushed tone of pure vulnerability. It was only fair -- Suguru hadn't held back.

❝ I think there's something wrong with me, Suguru. ❞ Tears finally began to brim -- but he felt empty, still. As though mourning the death of some distant relative, merely going through the motions of what one believed the appropriate amount of grief was. But that in of itself was further confirmation, further food for the pit in his stomach that knew that he wasn't alright. A vicious cycle of wrongness, of wanting to cry, of finally starting to and yet it not granting any relief... causing further wrongness, further pain. There was a trickling of tears down the ridges of the hand he kept planted across his eyes, droplets slipping between his fingers and dotting the material of his pants whilst he kept himself hunched, head bowed.

❝ There's something wrong with both of us, isn't there? ❞ He wept quietly, spoke softly, but he was just... going through the motions.

𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐘 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐘𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐈𝐌 —- even when Satoru had explained the omnipresence of his Six Eyes ability, it was hard for Suguru to grasp what going through the motions of everyday life must’ve been like for him.  To experience the world in such a multifaceted way without the ability to ever turn it off had to have been so exhausting…

Perhaps the unbearable isolation that their abilities bestowed upon them was what initially drew them together.  No one knew, or would ever know, other than Suguru, what it was like to consume a curse —- to swallow down the panic, the disgust, the agony and fear and everything else that paved the way for its existence in the first place. Both of them were burdened by their powers —- and neither of them knew anyone else that could ever truly relate.

Suguru squeezed Satoru’s hand again; a quick attempt to get him to focus on something, anything, other than the sheer overwhelm of his mind’s eye. He wanted to tell Satoru that he wasn’t alone —- that he would never leave his side, no matter what… but Suguru had a feeling this went beyond just the physical.  He knew it in the very marrow of his bones, because he too felt the emotional scars of this battle.  The creeping applause, the darkness at his feet, pulling him under —- the questioning of it all, his own moral compass wavering as a result of what he had experienced… what they had experienced.

No, he knew deep down what Satoru meant.  He had been there when the principal questioned him; when they had reported their failed mission to the higher-ups. Suguru saw the shock on their faces when Satoru spoke of the reverse techniques he figured out on the fly, as a last resort —- and he had watched as they all began to marvel at the young prodigy of the Gojo clan; singing praise of his strength, his durability unmatched. 

As if he were just some weapon.

Acid burned its way up Suguru’s throat as a distaste for those in charge of this place grew —- how they continued to fail those they were supposed to protect. Young sorcerers arriving back to Jujutsu High in body bags, only to be forgotten about by both their comrades and the non-sorcerers they had attempted to save.

Suguru did his best to shake off his anger in favor of helping Satoru through this moment.  And while he worried that perhaps any advice given would be far too unrelatable for the other, if not laughable, given his current predicament —- well, Suguru was Satoru’s person, his one and only, for a reason.

All Suguru could do was trust in that, and in him.

❝ Shh, Satoru— breathe.  In through your nose, out through your mouth. Like this, ❞ Suguru spoke quietly, his voice reserved only for the boy in front of him. He too took a slow breath in, and then out —- his thumb brushing along Satoru’s knuckles, all the while.

With a loving, gentle smile that reached the corners of his eyes, Suguru spoke once more, his gaze steadying on Satoru’s frantic blue. ❝ Now look at me.  Forget everything else —.. Focus only on what you see in front of you. I’ve got you, Satoru… focus on me. Do your best to ignore everything else. ❞

His free hand reached upwards, then; up along the slender column of Satoru’s throat slowly, tenderly —- until the tips of his fingers were greeted by the short white hairs along the other’s scalp. ❝ Remember to breathe, Satoru. And keep your eyes on mine. Fuck everything else —- it's only you and me in here. Just you and me. ❞

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐄𝐏𝐓, 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄 -- 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐘𝐄𝐓 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐃, 𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐑𝐘, the only thing that kept him feeling human. No one looked at him like he was human, other sorcerers capable of incredible feats beyond human strength themselves would look at him like he wasn't human. And now Suguru -- ... was Suguru going to look at him that way, too? He didn't want to uncover his eyes to find out, he just wanted the aching throb behind them to go away.

If Suguru had asked him what happened, what dying felt like, Satoru would've answered "like going down stairs at night and missing a step." Abrupt, a lodging swell of fear, a frantic and automatic grasp for the railing. He hadn't died slowly, not with how many times that knife ripped into him. The swiftness in which he'd been felled was perhaps the worst of it all -- his brain couldn't comprehend the damages he was so desperate to regenerate in the midst of them happening. Everything went into autopilot. Pain filtered in uninterrupted due to how many times it was signaled with each plunging stab, and he was left reeling with no time to process it all; blood pooling out of him like sand into the bottom of an hourglass. He had maybe a few agonizing seconds of actual awareness in the midst of it all.

Everyone expected him to be fine, he even told them he was. Of course he was fine, he was strong, that was the overall assumption. No one bat an eye, and if they did it was only in response to learning how he utilized self-healing on the fly. No one but Suguru thought that perhaps a sixteen year old experiencing a brutal death as well as the failure of their mission could've been negatively impactful.

Maybe that's what got him to break, actually. Not that he had almost died -- yes, maybe the stress involved in experiencing that was coming into play, but... -- the fact that he didn't, he couldn't ---- he had grown accustomed to watching fellow students bite the dust. They weren't strong like he was. People died. But oh, now it was really dawning on him -- he was alone now, fully and truly, and he had gone somewhere even Suguru couldn't follow. Satoru would live, and everyone around him would die, one way or another.

❝ I -- I don't want to be alone, ❞ he choked out, his hands peeling away ever so slowly by Suguru's gentle coaxing. He couldn't hide his eyes anymore, and he couldn't keep them squeezed shut -- not with the way crying had them stinging to blink away the dampness stuck to his lashes. Tears spilled freely down his cheeks, sliding along his jaw to drip down. Suguru wanted him to share what was on his mind but truthfully... there was so little, and yet not -- the overwhelm, the high-pitched ringing in his mind. Suguru's own tearful gaze was met with vibrant eyes that couldn't dissipate their power, not fully, never fully -- but he was closer now, closer while still being further away.

Satoru saw everything around them, the dust particles in the moonlight through the smallest crevice of their blackout curtains. Ten bodies in the morgue beneath their feet, a shadow passing through the halls -- siren lights down a dark street, the scurrying of an alleycat, everything and more thrummed into his mind's eyes. His gaze averted, darting, unable to stop on any one thing, gazing straight through Suguru at times whenever it passed over him akin to a lighthouse piercing through storm clouds. He couldn't stop seeing.

What was on his mind? What was on his mind?

❝ -- there's... too much, I can't focus on -- anything. ❞ The more he spoke, the more his voice cracked, breaking, making way for the humanity still within. Suguru was grounding him, albeit slowly. For someone labeled 'the strongest' Satoru felt so small and pathetic right now. The world was too big and loud and flashing, too much danger and death and -- his eyes couldn't look away. Even now, as he spoke to give Suguru his answer, his openness, he couldn't lock their gazes. Not properly, at least, not without that impossible blue cutting straight through the other man before it darted elsewhere as though thousands of bugs infested the space and only he could see them as they swarmed about. At the height of his overwhelm, his Six Eyes ability was detrimental rather than helpful.

❝ It's ------ all too much, Suguru. ❞

𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐃 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔’𝐒 𝐆𝐀𝐙𝐄, watching as such brilliant shades of blue ebbed and flowed within, a dance of their own making as the overwhelming power of his Six Eyes narrowed down its focus.  There was an iridescence to Satoru’s eyes in this moment that took his breath away —- Suguru managed to forget his own instruction to breathe as his heart skipped a beat.

❝ You’re beautiful, Satoru. ❞ He couldn’t stop the words from coming out, nor did he want to, really —- his feelings were overwhelming, a love left unspoken for so long now bursting at the seams.  He had almost lost him ... for a moment or two, Suguru had. Never again would he hide from the intensity of his own truths —- never giving whatever this was between them a name, though they both knew what it was, deep down. Suguru blinked back his own tears this time, in favor of swiping his thumbs across Satoru’s cheeks, and catching any tears that lingered.  ❝ The way you say exactly what it is you feel, whether for good or for bad… —-the way you always stay true to yourself, and show up for others even when it’s hard, or frustrating, or exhausting. ❞ 

Suguru smiled at him, then, continuing to watch as that power within his eyes dimmed; that beautiful iridescence fading into the background, now —- a far cry from its intensity only moments before. Suguru could feel his heart hammering against his chest as he got up off his knees, and moved to straddle the other at the edge of the bed. His legs hooked around Satoru’s hips slowly, intentionally —- Suguru’s gaze never once leaving Satoru’s, even as he pressed his weight into him, persuading Satoru follow his lead, and lay back against the mattress. 

❝ —--The way you wear your heart on your sleeve and yet somehow no one else sees it for what it is. ❞  Suguru continued with his loving praise of the other; the sun to his moon, the boy that had snuck into his life, his heart, and illuminated everything from the inside out.  ❝ The way you make me laugh, even when I’m having a day from hell.  You give, and give, and give —-... I don’t even know if you’re aware of how much you give. ❞ 

Finally, Suguru’s violet eyes would find another destination in the darkness —- only once he was sure Satoru had found enough stability to let go, even if only for a moment.  Suguru pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, before working his way down Satoru's tense jawline —- peppering slow, tender kisses down the slope of his neck, before eventually moving back up —- only stopping once his breath was dancing upon the shell of the other boy's ear.  

❝ This world will never deserve you, Satoru, ❞  he whispered, before locking eyes with him again. ❝ I don’t deserve you—--.... but I love you, all the same. ❞

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐎𝐍 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐑, 𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐘 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐀𝐃 𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌, much to his relief as well as Suguru's, no doubt. He hadn't even felt the touch, not really, until now. Suguru's hands were warm and his eyes dipped to look at them, his fingers twitching to interlock, slotting between the other man's own. He thrived off of touch, contact -- anything that acted as a stimulant beyond vision. He found himself gravitating to Suguru in the most mundane of ways simply to establish touch, leaning, grazing hands against one another as they walked, putting his chin onto Suguru's hunched shoulder.

Now, he held hands. A deliberate act, one he made while attempting to zero back in on where he was, who he was, and what he was feeling. The low purr of Suguru's soft voice... he was drawn in, lowered from whatever heavens above he had ascended to in his mind. A balloon that drifted out from his grasp, lost in the clouds -- deflating, now, losing its upward momentum. He was no longer weightless, suspended -- Suguru grounded him. He always did, even when Satoru himself didn't realize it at the time.

Fuck, he was in love. He hadn't ever said it out loud, but some part of him knew that Suguru knew -- or, hoped he knew. Surely the other knew that he loved him, right? It's not like it needed confessing, not when they slept together every chance that they got and knew each other's bodies akin to the backs of their own hands.

Satoru got Suguru's dorm room a larger bed with his excessive funds (as well as one for his own quarters), using that as an excuse to crash with him more often than not, or hosting movie nights and gaming sessions in his room until they fell asleep to the dim light of a pause menu. Suguru seemed like the type that needed the company, initially, when Satoru first met him. Maybe that was why he latched on -- lonely souls recognized one another.

Satoru was certainly latching on now, especially. Listening to Suguru's voice smoothly instruct him, and submitting to the fact that in this moment he needed that. He needed to be simplified, he needed to stop being too much. He breathed, mimicking Suguru's example, a shudder in his lungs before he exhaled again. Again, he breathed in through his nose, then slowly out from parted lips, eyes sparing a few blinks between until the trickling tears slowed, easing away from the glassy swell that coated that brilliant azure.

He focused on Suguru, with the world closing in, walls squeezing -- everything blackening away into mist, into nothing. In, out -- in, then out. He memorized the specks of hazel in Suguru's eyes, the mountains within his gaze, the soul beyond them. Suguru probably thought he absorbed the muck, the grime of every curse he took inward, and that he somehow became their bile, their filth, stained akin to a white cloth dipped into mud and blood and the grotesque -- but that was a lie. He was beautiful, vibrant as the moon to him, the essence of him was always and ever breathtaking.

Satoru breathed in, then out, and then slowly offered a shaky smile that managed to reach his watery eyes. The world was far more bearable like this; nothing else, just them.

❝ ... I haven't scared you off yet ? ❞ The fondness in his voice practically pleaded for a 'not a chance' response, but he figured he could handle a teasing 'actually, yes' if Suguru so decided to venture toward lightheartedness.

[ 最強の ]  𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 / 𝐬𝐯𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐨. hold me like I never did anything to hurt you... —- don't let me go, give me another minute to play here in your echo —-

𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍 𝐁𝐘⠀/⠀cas + iris. canon divergent, private, and mutually exclusive. 𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐘 𝐈𝐍⠀/⠀humility⠀;⠀perseverance⠀ ;⠀ hubris ⠀;⠀ delusion⠀ /⠀ ©: ogata69

𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐅-𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐍 𝐁𝐎𝐖𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐍 in order to fish out the vibrating phone from his pants pocket. His lips curled up into an amused smile before he started working on his reply.

[ 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 ➥ 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 六眼 ] : i thought you hated when people gave you shallow compliments? [ 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 ➥ 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 六眼 ] : i'll make sure to call you prettyboy next time we're in class. Maybe even melodramatic stud muffin.

𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄, quick to shoot out a text to Suguru containing, as per usual, his latest random thought.

[ 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 ➥ 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐰𝐮 🌺(づ￣ ³￣)づ💗] : it's criminal that you havent called me prettyboy even once. not even mockingly. am i ugly to you?

[ 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 ➥ 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐰𝐮 🌺(づ￣ ³￣)づ💗] : so you hate me and want me to die???

𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔'𝐒 𝐓𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐈𝐃 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄, his poor flip phone vibrating across the table as he slurps a few more noodles into his mouth. Fuck, he was hungry... who knew swallowing up curses left one's stomach growling for some ACTUAL form of sustenance?

[ 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 ➥ 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 六眼 ] : my apologies then, prettyboy.

[ 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 ➥ 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 六眼 ] : though it feels disingenuous now - i think i'll stick with melodramatic stud muffin. a bit more creative, yeah?

Suguru can't help but chuckle as he fires back another reply, however he isn't quick enough to beat Satoru's frantic clarification.

[ 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 ➥ 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 六眼 ] : LOL

[ 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 ➥ 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 六眼 ] : looks like i didn't even have to say it. need me to bring u a binky to suck on, or will u be heading back soon? 👶🍼

𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐔𝐃𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐋𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔'𝐒 𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐇 𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 of 'melodramatic stud muffin' -- he had to follow through with that now, no backing out.

[ 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 ➥ 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐰𝐮 🌺(づ￣ ³￣)づ💗] : its not shallow if youre the one saying it mr deeper meaning to everything

[ 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 ➥ 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐰𝐮 🌺(づ￣ ³￣)づ💗] : i am THE melodramatic stud muffin

[ 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 ➥ 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐰𝐮 🌺(づ￣ ³￣)づ💗] : yo tho this mission is like that nuclear warhead vs coughing baby meme

He paused... then frantically added, before Suguru could beat him to it, a very important clarification.

[ 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 ➥ 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐰𝐮 🌺(づ￣ ³￣)づ💗] : adn before you say itn no, im not the coughing baby, fuck you

𝐇𝐀! 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐋𝐘 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇 as he pushed the now empty ramen bowl aside, in favor of settling up the bill and excusing himself from the premises. Once outside, Suguru whipped up a few replies of his own before lighting up a fresh cigarette.

[ 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 ➥ 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 六眼 ] : who said anything about needing you to head back?

[ 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 ➥ 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 六眼 ] : i think you're the one missing me here, prettyboy.

[ 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 ➥ 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 六眼 ] : maybe you should work on those teleporting skills if u want me back on my knees already

𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐄𝐀𝐑-𝐓𝐎-𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐍𝐎𝐖, 𝐃𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐋𝐘 𝐀𝐁𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐁𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄, typing rapidly back. Suguru was a slower texter, meant he could get more snark in before the other shot it down. He definitely enjoyed whenever he earned a good 'LOL' response from Suguru, he didn't hand those out lightly.

[ 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 ➥ 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐰𝐮 🌺(づ￣ ³￣)づ💗] : look at you mentioning sucking and then needing me to head back soon

[ 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 ➥ 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐰𝐮 🌺(づ￣ ³￣)づ💗] : i dont even need to finish the connection

[ 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 ➥ 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐰𝐮 🌺(づ￣ ³￣)づ💗] : missed me that much? ( ˘ ³˘)

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 —-- 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐎𝐓-𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐃, 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐁𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐍 𝐁𝐎𝐘 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐒𝐎 𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐋.  All but rolling his eyes when the subject of worthiness was introduced.  Satoru was always ready to throw himself under the bus, especially when Suguru wanted to blame himself for a mission gone wrong, or something slipping through the cracks — whether it be a lapse in judgment, or an attack not being quick enough, destructive enough.  Suguru never needed an excuse to be hard on himself; that critical voice in the back of his mind was always there, provoking him —- urging him into the occasional depressive episode that so often went unnoticed.

There was no room to focus on mental health at Jujutsu High, apparently. No ways of coping with loss, or failure —- things that were all too common in a world such as theirs.  

Suguru watched as his confession caused Satoru’s cheeks to flush, that beautiful rosy hue making its way down his neck as well, warming the space where his lips remained.  He could feel Satoru’s pulse quicken as he pressed an open mouthed kiss to his throat, lips and tongue and teeth wandering, mapping every expanse of skin the other boy offered. He truly was beautiful, splayed out underneath him like this —- trusting Suguru enough to lower his infinity.  A selfish, almost possessive thought clouded his mind as he nipped at the other’s adam’s apple, though it was gone as quickly as it had arrived. Mine, mine —- no one else knows what Satoru’s skin feels like, tastes like… the sounds he makes when he’s close… the way his breath hitches, the way he says my name—-

Suguru chuckled against Satoru’s neck, his black hair draping down around the other as he rounded Satoru’s sharp edges, intent on locking eyes with him again. ❝ Fine, you win, ❞  he hummed out a response to the other’s bluntness, knowing there was no arguing with Satoru when he made up his mind about something. Suguru braced himself over Satoru with his forearm tucked against his side, his elbow pressing into the mattress for extra support. 

He was unprepared for the surge of emotions that would come from hearing those words repeated back to him. Suguru’s free hand reached up to cup the side of Satoru’s face, the pad of his thumb brushing lovingly across his cheek as Satoru continued to confess his own feelings. Suguru knew how Satoru felt about him, even without such admissions —- but to hear it like this, after everything that had come between them… 

❝ Satoru… ❞

No longer was Suguru straddling two roads as they diverged  ( one dimly lit, overgrown and unkept, while the other pristine; unsoiled and healthy, a stark contrast to how Suguru had started to feel about society, about the morals he built his life upon )  —-- instead, he found himself grounded by Satoru’s presence.  He wanted to stay in this moment forever; in a world that didn’t exist outside of the two of them. Without warning, Suguru surged forward, cutting off the other before he could even finish saying his name.  His mouth was on Satoru’s then, hungry and wild —-- desperate to get as close as he could whilst his tongue sought purchase over Satoru’s.  Suguru’s hips had a mind of their own, grinding down onto his, seeking any possible friction that matched the emotional frenzy Satoru had so easily spun up in him.

𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐃 𝐀 𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐔𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 akin to the ocean's hue out beyond any landform or shallow waters. Suguru could pinpoint the shifting in focus, no doubt, by the manner in which they ceased their ethereal glow in favor of that darker color coming to the forefront. Satoru breathed again, holding it in his throat for a moment when a watery inhale hitched its way within his airway. He hadn't ever cried in front of Suguru before, hadn't ever cried in front of anyone, really. So the clarity he gained within the next few seconds involved a dawning realization that he had, in fact, done so.

Something in the way Suguru cleared away the residual tears slick against his cheeks made him feel a measure of comfort in knowing he wouldn't be taunted about this later down the line. There was a sacred flavor to this exchange, enough so that he tipped his head more into one of the cupping palms of Suguru's hand once his thumbs were finished wiping beneath his eyes.

He was beautiful, was he? He heard that, the way people would ogle him for his strange hair and bright eyes. He'd lean into the compliments, comically so, if only because he didn't know what else to do when faced with that. It was already dehumanizing enough to be seen not as a person but as a living weapon -- he could handle being talked about like some idol, spoken of without being truly spoken to. But something about the way his heart skipped a beat made him recognize that this was different praise. Particularly because Suguru didn't stop there.

The other man moved into a languid straddle, pushing Satoru into a lean that he sluggishly, uncertain and a bit doe-eyed, relented into a full recline to rest his back against their mattress. His hands reached to grasp onto one of Suguru's upper thighs, resting another hand upon the man's hip purely to maintain mutual contact. He'd have to get peeled off of Suguru forcibly at this rate.

Honestly, Suguru was overdoing it, saying all these nice things about him -- and these weren't standard compliments, no fill-in-the-blank sorts that came straight out of a Hallmark card. Suguru... really did see him, didn't he? Now his face felt hot, pinned under the fully-observant gaze of Suguru above, a blooming desire to become meek in the face of actual positive acknowledgement.

Fuck, Suguru not only had his heart doing cartwheels -- now he was blushing like some schoolgirl, too. The power Suguru wielded right now was incomprehensible. Satoru felt so speechless he didn't realize his lips were parted in some feeble attempt to say something back until Suguru was kissing against the corner of his mouth. He couldn't help but shudder when that attention drifted lower, grazing hot breath and warm lips against his neck, a tingling rush down his spine when Suguru passed over the sensitive skin of a raw scar -- almost ticklish, especially when he veered to his ear. Satoru twitched his fingers into a more firm grip on Suguru's hip whilst turning his head a little, as though shy, breathing out a brief chuckle with a subtle scrunch of the bridge of his nose. There was too much going on, signals firing this way and that -- that Satoru nearly didn't catch Suguru's final sentence.

But there was no way in hell he'd miss those words, those very specific words spoken warmly against his temple, a shivering of both body and soul whilst that confession resonated, ringing, filling up the whole of him with a surge.

❝ I wouldn't have anybody else, you know -- it's not a matter of who deserves who, so fuck off with that undeserving shit, ❞ He practically blurted out a quick response, the initial issue he held within him that Suguru still somehow wanted to belittle himself in the midst of his confession. Fuck no, not on his watch. Hey, Suguru had mentioned enjoying his bluntness, him speaking his mind, his heart on display -- hell, wasn't it important to shoot his shot now more than ever?

Fuck, his heart was racing into his throat. Satoru swallowed hard, keeping his eyes locked onto Suguru's own, keeping that grounding tether tight between them both. He spoke quieter than a whisper in a confession booth, but it was loud enough in his heart that he figured Suguru could feel the words radiating off of him by now. He hoped, at least.

❝ I love you, too. Of course I do -- I -- you're everything to me. Everything, I mean it. ❞ He paused, working the words out in his mind, his mouth readying, hesitant, then emboldened by the vulnerability they were both sharing at this point.

❝ You said all that nice pretty stuff about me, but more could be said about you, the way I know you're tired and I know you're hurting but you still try so hard to do the right thing ---- even when I challenge you on why, even when I give you so much shit on top of it all. I don't think -- ❞ He worked his jaw, earnestly deciding on what to blurt out next because his mind was racing through a thousand feelings a second, so much he wanted to tell him now that the walls between them were thinner than freshly frozen lake's glassy surfaces, the way they could see the water current beneath their feet, the way they could feel the emotions flowing ---- they couldn't stop now. He couldn't stop here. His eyes were vibrant and from no power other than the potent emotions he felt, the flooding of overwhelm at the sheer love and fullness he was experiencing. Raw from the last twenty-four hours... this was a high stronger than his resurrection. For the first time since right before Toji struck a sword through his back, Satoru actually felt alive now.

❝ I really don't know who I'd be without you, so much of you is... ingrained into who I am now, and I don't know how I'll ever repay you for that. If ---- if I can make you laugh, smile -- if I can make the world... a little more bearable for you... that's the least I can do in comparison. You make me better, I want to make you better too -- I want to help you, I want to ---- ... I'd do anything for you, Suguru. ❞

𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐀 𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇 as he witnessed Satoru curl inwards, protecting what remained of his pride. The curse user's hand still rested comfortably atop his shoulder, waiting for any sign of the other's pain letting up. It wasn't that he found Satoru writhing around in agony funny, or anything sinister like that —- there was just something, well... adorable, really, about the way Satoru pouted up at him, those blue eyes almost glassy underneath such darkly tinted lenses.

Fuck... he'd have to unpack that one, later.

❝ You got it. How about we meet back at my dorm in an hour? That should give us enough time to wash up and eat something. ❞ Suguru smiled at him before extending his hand, fully prepared to hoist the other back up to his feet. ❝ You bring the movies, I'll bring the drinks? ❞ Luckily enough, Suguru had his connections. Drinking age be damned—-

❝ Sorry again, Satoru. I didn't want to actually hurt you. ❞

𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐄, 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐇. What a dick move, really. Most people who fought Satoru wouldn't go for the low blow, they usually went for his head -- thinking that if they landed a hit, he'd not be able to cast Infinity or use his Six Eyes to retaliate during the disorientation. Somewhat correct assumptions to make, but still -- that didn't land him on the floor, Suguru's method did. And the guy was rushing over like he had just accidentally stabbed him or something, which was kind of funny if he wasn't still seeing and hearing a bunch of ringing bells around his head at the moment.

❝ Gimme a -- hooohhhhhminute. ❞ He was going to just lay there for a little while longer, this floor was now his home. No moving. Don't move him. He shot Suguru a big ol' pout from where he was curled up when the guy even mercifully offered some praise on how he had been doing so well up until he didn't do so well at all.

❝ I want -- ❞ His mind spun around a mile a second, but at least he wasn't shriveled up in a ball of pain anymore. It was just the residuals now, ringing in his ears, aching. The first five seconds were lethal, though. ❝ ... a m-movie marathon, and drinks. ❞ He moved to straighten up into a seated position, pout still full blown and his sunglasses a bit lopsided on his nose from the crumpled position on his side. He was hugging himself a little, hunched. What was that again about "fwii and fwoo" or whatever the fuck Shoko went on about when talking about healing? He needed that.

He could've asked for anything in that moment and Suguru maybe would've done it, but of course he ended up picking the whole quality time approach instead of being appeased by offerings of food. The video gaming wasn't off the table, though.

❝ -- and at least ten rounds of Gundam, you ass. ❞

𝐈𝐅 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐏𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐎𝐅𝐅, 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐁𝐄 𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃. He knew how hard Satoru had been working on advancing his techniques --- though last time he had tried anything like this, it had been far from successful. Suguru took another steady inhale of his cigarette and surveyed his surroundings, just in case there were any potential crowds of people that could be affected by Satoru's attempt at long-distance teleportation.

[ 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 ➥ 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 六眼 ] : ha! good luck. im standing outside of ginza hachigo near shintomichō station

[ 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 ➥ 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 六眼 ] : try not to destroy any buildings on your way over, i dont wanna deal with an angry yaga making us run laps again

𝐈𝐅 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐓𝐇, it'd be how fucking ridiculously easy it was to goad him into trying to flex his power. Showing off came naturally when one had so much talent, right? Using Blue to warp himself places was a new skillset, clumsy and dangerous -- though he always downplayed both aspects to appear less weak. Suguru just activated his 'fuck it we ball' mode.

[ 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 ➥ 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐰𝐮 🌺(づ￣ ³￣)づ💗] : alright BET

[ 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 ➥ 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐰𝐮 🌺(づ￣ ³￣)づ💗] : gimme your location

[ 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 ➥ 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐰𝐮 🌺(づ￣ ³￣)づ💗] : cant wait to see the look on your face

𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐓 𝐒𝐎 𝐅𝐀𝐑 𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐏𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 that hearing Satoru say it, much less think it, mean it, forced a pained, almost strangled laugh to escape his mouth. His eyes were glassy as he gazed back at his best friend, wondering what the fuck he could have possibly done to ever be considered perfect to the strongest sorcerer of the modern age. 

If he had been perfect, Riko wouldn’t have gotten shot directly in front of him.  He wouldn’t have been felled by the same man that shot her, either —-- the man that he had left Satoru to face alone.  He wouldn’t have had these two scars seared permanently into his chest to remind him of his failures, either.

He had become a jujutsu sorcerer to protect non-sorcerers.  And yet here were those same non-sorcerers, applauding the death of another human being.  Putting up ransoms and death threats like they were nothing.

What was he doing this for, again?  Why was he sacrificing himself for those weaker than him, when they couldn’t possibly care any less about him? Was it really about the moral high ground, doing the ‘right thing’?

Just a few hours ago, he had convinced Satoru not to slaughter some of the most vile non-sorcerers that he had ever encountered.  And now, he was second guessing that decision. A battle had begun in the curse user’s very heart and soul, threatening to undo everything he had ever stood for.

The droning hum of applause loomed in the back of his mind, building in intensity as this dark train of thought carried on —-- but Suguru wanted nothing more than to lose himself in Satoru.  He wanted to distance himself from these feelings, even if only for tonight. He would fall apart another time… dissect these feelings another time.

Suguru poured all of his energy and focus into the man below him, who was currently running his fingers through his darker tresses.  He listened to the way Satoru moaned, and the taste of that shameless cry as he greedily swallowed it down.  Suguru kissed him roughly, deeply —- so thoroughly, that the shadows of darkness looming over his every thought and desire began to dispel. He could feel Satoru’s arousal through his sweats, wanting nothing more than to shed the layers of clothing between them.  The curse user’s free hand shifted down towards the hem of Satoru’s shirt, intent on feeling his soft, pale skin, and the lean muscle underneath. With a few quick motions, Suguru had removed the garment, tossing it onto the floor without a care in the world.

Suguru was back on him, then, pressing Satoru down into the mattress, and rutting into him through those sweats, desperate for friction.  He could feel Satoru’s fist gripping at the back of his shirt, but more than that, he could feel the other’s impatience growing —-- the way he all but begged against Suguru’s mouth, drawing out a moan of his own as his cock twitched in want.

Satoru wanted…. And oh, so did Suguru. He felt dizzy with desire as he ran a hand up the other’s torso, the tips of his fingers casually grazing a sensitive nipple along the way.  Suguru’s hand stilled once over Satoru’s heart, eager to feel his pulse quicken. ❝ You have all of me, ❞ he replied, his voice quiet, reserved only for him.  He pressed another kiss to his mouth, before journeying further south —-- his mouth hot and wet as it roved across Satoru’s skin, though careful to move gently over the plethora of fresh scars Toji had so cruelly left behind.  Suguru tugged at Satoru’s other nipple with his teeth, before kissing away any residual pain, leaving room only for pleasure as he swirled his tongue around the sensitive bud. His free hand reached into Satoru’s sweatpants, then, palming his erection through his boxers as he kissed his way down his abs, and hips.

Suguru held Satoru’s gaze as he worked his pants and underwear down past his knees. He was grateful for any help Satoru offered in removing the clothing from his body, wanting to get him naked and breathless underneath him as quickly as possible. His eyes remained focused on Satoru as he dipped his head lower, and eagerly took the head of his cock into his mouth.  Suguru savored the salty taste of him, lapping at the bead of precum there, before running his thick tongue down the length of him. Suguru became ravenous with desire, then —- a groan rumbling in his throat as he took Satoru in fully, intent on swallowing him down as deep as he could before coming back up for air.

𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐘 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔'𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅-𝐃𝐄𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍, often times with firm words or downright aggression as he attempted to stop whatever guilt swelled up inside his friend if left to his own thoughts for too long. It was true, mental health wasn't in any way regarded as a necessity, but Satoru hardly dwelled on that -- how could he be aware of a flawed way of life when it was the only life he knew? Since he was a literal fucking infant his life was never about how he felt or what his heart needed... it was about what his powers could do, and the value he provided to his clan as well as the world of sorcerers. It was never a matter of asking him how he felt about one thing or the other, it was how his powers were excelling, if he could handle this mission or that, and how to best expedite his growth of power -- as if it hadn't already been enough.

It never seemed to be enough. He never seemed to be enough.

With Suguru, he was seemingly enough. That felt funny to think about, cliche and stupid and yet it perfectly encapsulated how he felt with the other -- whenever they bickered, downright brawled, whenever they went on missions together and especially when they had downtime together... he just felt right. Happy. And right now? Despite the emotions that lingered from his worry of wrongness, he felt right -- pulled back into himself by Suguru's smooth tone, his warm mouth on his neck doing all kinds of things to derail whatever gloom dared try to linger.

The neck was a vulnerability even for people without an added layer of Infinity guarding it, so it felt nearly doubly so to have lips and teeth against the skin there when the last thing that had touched his neck had been a knife less than twenty-four hours ago. He was very sensitive, too, to touch ---- quite evident with the way a mere nip at his neck had Satoru subtly squirm underneath the other. Suguru knew the extent of that, of course, because he was the only one permitted to push, to test, to tease, to ravage, to explore unhindered.

Unguarded, Satoru felt naked even when fully clothed at times like these, but despite it all... and most of all... he felt safe. Suguru was his own Infinity, in a way; if the other's body was against him, the essence of Suguru enveloped him the same way Infinity did. Warmer, though -- much warmer.

He felt safe enough to bare his heart, and so he had. Unashamed as always, albeit he could certainly feel his face burning the longer Suguru's eyes remained locked with his own during his confession. Satoru was accustomed to being told his gaze was intimidating, powerful, gorgeous... but damn, Suguru's eyes were fucking drop-dead beautiful. Stunning. He could see him past those eyes, too, in a newer way -- like he was reflecting through the back end of those orbs and looking inward, seeing... -- the indescribable.

❝ Fuck, you're perfect. ❞ He couldn't help but blurt it out, in the midst of his admissions of attraction, of love -- how could he not find Suguru perfect?

And hell, he wasn't good at smoking by any means (Shoko and Suguru, overcome by laughter, watching as he doubled over hacking up a lung because he dragged at an offered cigarette too hard) but he found that he loved the distant taste of it when Suguru's tongue pressed past his lips. Smokey tea. He didn't mind getting cut off, though he did enjoy saying Suguru's name and he knew the other enjoyed hearing it -- he was far too happy to cease talking altogether if it meant kissing him like this.

With Suguru leaning down over him, bodies pressing together, Satoru couldn't deny the heat that was bubbling up underneath his skin, electric and surging with how hungry Suguru was, how hot the undertones of ceased restraint were when Suguru was normally so composed. Satoru reached out to curl his fingers into Suguru's hair near the nape of his neck, undoing whatever semblance of a bun the guy had -- nope, he wanted to tangle his grasp into those sleek strands. He wanted ---- fuck, good thing they were on the same wavelength because the grinding of Suguru's hips made Satoru's mind go blank, static and friction and fireworks sparking down his spine, an utterly shameless moan spilling out of his mouth and into Suguru's own. Heightened sensitivity to touch be damned -- Suguru would've gotten that reaction out of him even if his skin was made of stone.

He bit at Suguru's lower lip and teased it between his teeth, his other hand not buried into the dark tresses of the man atop him moving in favor of gripping onto Suguru's shirt nice and firmly near the small of the man's back, pushing down with weight to make sure their bodies didn't have any space spared between them.

❝ -- want you, Suguru ---- ❞ He breathed out against that mouth a panted plea, practically begging -- no ounce of shame in him, only love and lust intertwined. The thrumming race of his heartbeat felt akin to a song, a surge and swell of emotions that had his eyes glassy alongside the haze of desire. You let me be vulnerable without it being my undoing, without it making me any less strong. I'm yours, I'm yours, I'm yours and no one else's --

𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐈𝐓, 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐍, 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌 —-- Satoru’s faint whisper as his palm moved to rest against Suguru’s cheek, holding him there as though he were some fragile thing.  He was sure that Satoru saw through him, at that moment… saw the absence of light around his thoughts, and the invisible force that gripped at his heart and mind in a way that Suguru had no possible way to articulate yet.  

And come back to him, he did —- Suguru would always come back to him.  This he knew with absolute certainty.

He had never shied away from Satoru’s gaze.  Not even then, as it seemingly pierced through him —-- Satoru looking at him in a way that left him feeling almost raw, undone.  While most others were put off or intimidated by the intensity of Satoru’s eyes, Suguru had always sought them out, preferring to see the other for everything he was.  Every little expression, every emotion, every thought easily read by the other —- often was the case with friends who spent almost every waking moment together.

Ah, but they weren’t just friends anymore, were they?  Not with those three important words hanging heavy in the air… hushed adorations pressed into skin, and ringing in ears as their worlds expanded.  They were in love with one another —- well and truly in love.  The realization hit Suguru again, his body warmed by the knowledge that those big, heavy feelings of his were reciprocated. 

Suguru’s lips had curled into a smile when Satoru lurched upwards, his nipple still caught between the curse user’s teeth.  Suguru knew all of his sounds by now, and what they meant —- when it was all too much, or not enough. His tongue had soothed the swollen bud, before he had considered applying the same treatment to the other… but Satoru’s cock was pressing up against him, hard and aching, and Suguru was such a generous lover.  He had wanted to taste him —- make Satoru feel good in a way that only he could.

Though Suguru had humored the other in his desire to rip his shirt off.  His oversized black tee had been pulled up over his muscular torso, only to remain in the heap of Satoru’s clothes on the floor, where they remained perfectly out of sight, out of mind.

Now, Suguru was focusing all of his attention on pleasing him —- his wet lips and tongue working Satoru’s cock, sliding up and down as his hand moved to gently cup and roll his balls against his calloused palm.  He could feel Satoru’s hands in his hair, tugging —- his moans a symphony to the curse user that made his own arousal grow almost painfully hard, pressed against the waistband of his sweats.  A groan vibrated around Satoru’s length, still lodged in Suguru’s throat as his eyes closed, trying desperately to keep his resolve to get Satoru off with his mouth before fucking him into the mattress.  He would make sure that Satoru slept so well, after this. 

❝ So needy, ❞  Suguru drawled, holding Satoru’s gaze as he swirled his tongue around the head of his cock.  ❝ Come for me like this, Satoru —- then, and only then, will I fuck you. ❞

The hand once applying gentle pressure and movement to Satoru’s scrotum slowly inched its way down further, only to tease what would come next —--- Suguru’s index finger running a feather-light circular motion around that sensitive rim, whilst he continued to run his tongue along the underside of Satoru’s dick, all the way from its base to the very tip before greedily taking him back into his mouth.

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔'𝐒 𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘, 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐙𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐆𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 -- -- akin to a line of smoke blown astray by a brief breeze. Satoru lifted to touch his fingers to Suguru's cheek, grazing against the smooth skin there as if to catch the smoke within his grasp, to cup it within his palm and keep it safe from the wispy winds, and whispered a nearly inaudible ❝ come back, ❞ without really thinking anything of it... it just felt natural to say that.

In the dim light of night Satoru's eyes were aglow, no longer subdued due to his focus fraying, but he was not in threat of being overcome by the world around him again. Right now, he was transfixed upon Suguru, the shape of him, the way the light touched around him -- creating a silhouette around his very soul, soft edges blooming in a halo effect. He could see it, see him, and oh, he was beautiful.

Kissing him felt natural, easy, and he melted into the other's mouth with every intention of staying there. They fit together so well that had he not been so sensitive (an aftereffect of having an innate ability that didn't allow random touches, everything had to be a deliberate lowering of his guard) then maybe Satoru would've lost track of where one body began and his ended.

But fuck, he was sensitive -- and Suguru knew that, Suguru probably delighted in the fact that he had yet to desensitize Satoru to his touch, his body, and every twitch and hitch of his breathing could further fuel his ego. Really, Satoru didn't ever expect Suguru to not get at least a little smug whenever he managed to make him flush and squirm from just a few roaming touches ---- but this was more than just some teases and a few deep kisses. This was passion -- and while he had thought them both quite seasoned with the subject of passion when it came to intimacy by now... this was a whole new realm of soul-binding desire.

He breathed in a bit sharply because damn, Suguru's hand on his skin never got old, tracing sparks of tingling arousal up his stomach with its pathway upward, dancing along his chest, making him catch a breath halfway in his throat -- fuck, Suguru knew all his weakest points, reputation be damned; he was the weakest fucking sorcerer of all when underneath Suguru's hands. He couldn't help but shudder again beneath him, legs and hips both shifting in a barely contained wiggle, thighs squeezing. He was happy to help pull his shirt up and over his head, quick to remedy the briefest disconnect of their mouths via lurching back into a crushing kiss, bruisingly needy, imploring Suguru to become as breathless as he felt right now.

Suguru, however, had other plans in mind when his mouth started to drift away, down the scarring on his neck -- enough to make Satoru's toes curl, the sensitivity different and heightened there, he had to turn his head in both a relenting to Suguru's wandering mouth and also because his face felt hot and probably three shades darker of a deep red. He hadn't ever gotten any scars before, so the strange dual-sensation of skin roughened yet vulnerable, bare, made him shiver and hiss out a breathy curse.

❝ -- fuck ------ ❞ That was teeth, that was Suguru's teeth -- he hadn't been hurt or anything, but he nearly yelped out that curseword with a gasped breath. He hoped Suguru would understand it was because that felt good, and that it had just startled him. Hopefully he wouldn't stop.

His brain was off when his body began to shimmy a little to help Suguru get the rest of his clothing off of him, on autopilot, fully aroused and utterly susceptible anything at the moment ---- but he was also deliberate in how he gripped onto Suguru's shirt and tugged at it akin to a demand -- ❝ -- take this shit off, ❞ he breathily implored, reckoning that in the seconds spent undressing him, Suguru could spare another second doing the same for himself. Cause otherwise? Hell no, he wasn't about to lay here naked underneath a fully clothed Suguru.

Not that Satoru could really stop the guy, because Suguru was on a mission -- that mission? Try and make his brain short-circuit as many times as possible within a brief time period. Down that head of dark hair went, down that roaming mouth wandered ---- and down went Satoru's final wall of restraint. Fuck.

❝ You're ---- fuck -- ...ing ruthless ---- ❞ he said with all manner of endearment and sexual frustration combined, body alight with rapid-fire rounds of fireworks, arousal brimming and pooling to his cock now at the focus of Suguru's too-smooth and perfect fucking mouth. His hips bucked against his best attempt to keep them from doing otherwise. ❝ S--... Suguru, that's not ---- fair -- Suguru -- ! ❞ He couldn't help but bleed out a teeth-gritting groan that he tried to swallow, failing completely. His fingers found Suguru's scalp, gripping tight in a way that he hoped didn't hurt but by fucking hell he needed to anchor himself ---- he wanted ---- fuck, that mouth -- !

He was gripping onto Suguru's hair like a lifeline, shuddering, tossing his head aside with a squeeze shut of that vibrant and aglow gaze, holding half-hitched breaths so hard inward he felt like he was burning inside, another moan melting out his mouth before he could stop it with his teeth. His hips bucked against his will again, back arching from the mattress, sweat gleaming and glistening across his skin from in the low light let in through the curtains, sparkling like starlight. Absolutely criminal, how good Suguru was with him -- but he didn't want it this way, he wanted ---- he wanted --

❝ Ssssuguru, I -- swear to... fucking -- everything... ❞ He gasped out for air, for a word of coherency before Suguru's mouth took it all from him. Piercing eyes shot down through the mess of pale hair strewn across his face, the world's sky and oceans intertwined within them, cutting. ❝ ---- if you don't -- ffffuck me right now, I'll beat your ass. ❞