Archive of Our Own

Suguru's POV

Alone at the house

10:15PM

It was cold the evening that Suguru was alone tonight, it was rainy, hammering against the glass as if it had some sort of problem with him. Well, not really a problem with him. Maybe he's just being dramatic.. right. Okay. He often has to remind himself that not everything about his life is miserable anymore, that everything is okay and he won't die tomorrow. He knows breathing exercises now and has fidget toys that he only reluctantly uses.

Okay.

It's okay. Right. It's fine. Breathe.

In..

Hold for four seconds.

Out.

Repeat a couple more times. That's what he told me to do whenever he wasn't around, or whenever he just had trouble calming down in general. He should be okay without Satoru, it really is only a couple days. Only a few days of his husband on a mission.

Only a few days of him being suicidal and horny simultaneously. That's pretty normal for him regardless if Satoru is here with him anyway. Except when his husband is gone, all of those emotions intensify by at least five. Maybe ten on a bad day, but that's pretty rare. The emotions that intensify the most is his horniness and his anxiety, and he REALLY can't tell which one is worse.. and that's a problem in itself.

See, Suguru has severe anxiety (among-st other things). He hides it pretty well (he thinks he does, its okay, let him lie to himself). But internally, he's such a mess, always thinking of the worst case scenarios. For example.. take right now, Satoru is on a mission. Probably not even a high rank curse whatsoever, but in Suguru's little mind? In his anxiety-written mind?

You have no idea.

Satoru is GOING to DIE. This is going to be the LAST TIME I SEE HIM. It's MY fault. Our marriage means NOTHING now. Start planning your suicide already. MAKE A FUNERAL.

YOU WILL BE IN DEBT. HE WILL HAUNT YOU FOR NOT SAVING HIM. HE'S GOING TO LET HIS GUARD DOWN. EVERYONE HATES YOU AND YOU SHOULD JUST DIE ALREADY.

DID I LOCK THE DOOR? ARE THE BURNERS OFF? WHAT IF THE HOUSE EXPLODES?

IS SATORU OKAY?! No! No, he's definitely not — HE'S DEAD. DEAD. DEAD. HE LET HIS GUARD DOWN AND HE HAS PEOPLE AFTER HIS BODY TO USE AS A WEAPON AND—

Alright. That's enough.

These thoughts are not really helpful to this whole scenario right now. Suguru alone, on the couch and basically rotting with 50 grains of rice in his stomach, a sip of tea and pieces of dragon fruit he cut up a few days ago. Is it still good? Who knows? He really doesn't care. He's tasted cursed at their rotting flesh form, the taste of garbage mixed along with human remains, vomit and whatever the taste of suffering is. And he's alone, I repeat. With nothing in his stomach, he's lonely, depressed, probably horny, and way too sluggish to get his ass up to make some real food.

He doesn't want food anyway. He doesn't have an appetite after the thoughts roaming through his head about his husband probably dying. That really doesn't make him hungry. It makes him more have that feeling in his tummy of wanting to curl into a ball and sob. But he's a grown man and won't do that.

At least not in front of anyone..

It should be okay, except he currently isn't okay. It's only been.. what? 2 days without him. Satoru. Satoru Gojō only has been on a mission for two days, and he is losing his mind. He genuinely has never felt this amount of suffering ever since he nearly died. He feels like his heart is pounding out of his chest – like it's just trying to wiggle itself out of Suguru's body, try to find Satoru. And maybe slam itself into concrete and burst open and bleed everywhere?

Okay.. maybe that's a little bit dramatic, Suguru. The thunder in the background is also going along very well with his whole thing, curled up on their couch, watching some documentary in the background. He isn't really paying attention to it, though. Not really. He's more so thinking about Satoru, about when he's going to come back home to him. Which should be.. when? Two nights from now? 48 hours? Maybe even more?

Yeah, that's gonna be a nightmare. He can only eat a spoon of rice and some seaweed along with a leftover milkshake for so long before he passes out.

He doesn't even like milkshakes. At least not the one Satoru left at home and forgot to throw out, except Suguru can't throw it out for some reason. He feels guilty, even if it would start to grow mold and rot away, Suguru would still keep the very least of what Satoru left in the fridge. Even though he isn't dead. He just feels some intense guilt that swirls and curls into some poison smoke into his lungs, heart and chest in general and explodes there. Even if the milkshake is disgusting to him, he feels like it's taking something away from Satoru, away from his home. It's some concoction with Reese peanut butter cups and skittles, it's basically all sugar. He doesn't even know how his 35 year old husband eats those things. As a matter of fact, Satoru probably forgot he even made that milkshake, and would not care if it were thrown away.

God, that would be humiliating if he fainted because he barely ate anything. Maybe he should eat. Should he though? Nah. Too lazy. He is a very lazy man now that he has a few days off, it's winter break now. But Satoru chose to take these few days in order to train his students a bit more, but.. I mean.. I don't know. Technically he told Satoru to go ahead and do his work, not to just dump his responsibilities on others. He did say that, but he didn't mean it. He wanted Satoru to stay. He always wants Satoru to stay.

I mean, yeah. That's great and all, I love the work that Satoru puts in to make sure that his students are okay, well trained and not mentally going crazy like myself and Satoru. But.. I just miss Satoru a lot. I do, and sometimes I wish that he would spend a little more time with me.

He wouldn't ever say that out loud though, because technically hes the one who abandoned Satoru first, and he doesn't really want to start a fight with him. Thats fair. But, they're married now. God. The amount of counseling it took for them to get to where they are now was horrendous. Fortunately, they're better than before, but if they didn't get themselves fixed instantly? They would have either both been dead, or been divorced.

They went through at-least 4 different counselors in the span of only 2 months. No one could handle the screaming, the silent treatments, cursed energy flaring of these two men over 6'0.

Can you really blame them, though?

Thats besides the point, though. He was just saying that he misses Satoru, and that he wishes sometimes he would be home a little more. He wouldn't say that out loud for either one of two reasons.

First one? They'd bicker about it. That's the last thing Suguru wants to do with Satoru, because you never know if you're gonna get Mr. Jokester who doesn't take anyone's feelings seriously and tries to dismiss the argument, or "i guess I'm the worst person ever" and tries making Suguru feel bad about bringing up the fact that he's lonely. It pisses him off to a TEE. But, he isn't an angel. Suguru is far from that, as a matter of fact, he might be worse than Satoru in some cases. When they argue, he just shuts down, gives silent treatment, or either bursts out crying and screaming at his husband over the smallest thing. Both of them have grown out of that phase, but again, they aren't exactly angels.

Second one? Satoru would feel guilty.

That one is worse than the first one for Suguru, because he knows Satoru isn't loud about his guilt or shame. No way. He bottles it up in that stupidly big heart, his eyes look so blank, he just looks like a kicked puppy. And he doesn't want Satoru to feel that way just because he wanted to spend some time with him. Satoru works enough for the both of them combined, and he already would do anything and everything for Suguru. And he would want to say to Satoru that sometimes he gets sad because he isn't around as much as he wants him to be? God, he feels pathetic. A pathetic loser that's 35 years old who is on the verge of tears from missing his husband.

Suguru looked down at the couch where he's curled up, his uneaten chip bowl in between his thighs, wearing comfy socks and big sweatpants, and a big Digimon t-shirt with holes in it that he stole from Satoru and isn't planning to give back anytime soon. Especially not now, not when it has the smell of Satoru and his expensive cologne on it. Not when he misses him so much that he feels like this few days apart from his husband is dragging him down mentally, so harshly. He misses Satoru. It feels almost dramatic, like he's in some soap opera waiting for his husband to come back as if he were a damsel in distress, crying, tears going down her cheeks and begging for her man.

The rain isn't helping, the rain is tapping faster and faster in Suguru's head, almost as if it was knocking on Suguru's windows and trying to break in, laugh in his face and kick him down to the floor. Maybe not actually kick him to the floor..? Just metaphorically. Hopefully that was given. Suguru sometimes can't detect sarcasm even though he uses it himself, and cannot tell if he was clear. He is probably neurodivergent and never got it checked out in his childhood. There are probably also many other things that are wrong with him that he never got checked out in his childhood, but that doesn't matter right now. Right?

What even is this show playing on the television? I don't even want this shit on..

I seriously have to get up right now to fix this? Great. Ruined my plans of couch rotting and passing out here, of course. Nothing goes right for me. I have to though. Have a headache.

Suguru thought in his head, before reluctantly standing up with a small hgh, feet touching the ground, balancing himself on his toes before settling the whole foot down. He finds himself stretching like a lazy cat, arms up and over his head, reaching up to the ceiling as if he was reaching up to the clouds. Or maybe if he was reaching up to the headboard when he's with Satoru because he feels so sweet inside? Or maybe when he's arching his back and reaching his arms out to grab a pillow because Satoru is hitting it so sweetly every time?

Suguru shakes his head, closing his eyes and trying to quickly get that thought out of his head. Oh boy, he didn't need that to get image in his head. He's lonely right now, he can't be craving sex..

God, Suguru, such a pervert.. get your shit together.

He pads over to the TV with the blanket wrapped around his shoulders, abandoning his full chip bowl and all his other things on the couch. He yawns, big shirt swallowing him as he slows his steps, walking up to the TV and trying to find the button to turn it off. They always make these buttons so small, how could he ever press them? It's annoying.

Suguru has lost the remote. He has no idea how he lost the remote, but he did, so he was forced to take initiative and turn it off himself. He rubs his eyes, looking like a sleepy little cat with his eyes half-opened, dark hair messy and running down his back, his shoulders, bangs loose and knotted. He looks around, still half-expecting Satoru to be around the corner, giggling and shirtless. He misses him, the shadow of his husband still lurking in his dreams, still wishing that he was right there with him. How could he ever go on without him, even if it's just a few days?

He half-expects his husband to be there with his stupid Pokémon boxers, still looking so sexy with the most ridiculous clothes. He still expects his husband to be there, laughing about nothing and ranting about some new anime he watched despite being a 35 year old man. God, he's such a loser. He loves it. He loves how Satoru thinks in ways that he's comfortable enough to show him his interests, how he loves him enough to let him in. He knows something silly like Pokemon shouldn't be turning into some life lesson, but honestly? It's true. Satoru never shows his interests to anyone, he's surprisingly a pretty secretive guy - you might think he's all for sharing things due to his loud volume and silliness, but he never, and I mean never lets anyone into his circle of thoughts.

And Suguru is honored to share that love with him. Honored to know all of this about the Satoru Gojo. That Satoru is his man, that he is the one that's had Satoru in a choke-hold for 16 years (metaphorically, sometimes literally). But unfortunately, at this moment, he is not there to show his appreciation for Satoru. Not right now. Maybe he'll text him soon.

Suguru's mind begins to drift, slowly and surely, standing there in the middle of his living room like some deer in headlights. He just stands there. Unfortunately, Suguru's mind drifts to the perverse almost immediately. He can't help it, he's just a guy thinking about his husband. Who wouldn't act this way if Satoru was THEIR man? With such beautiful blue eyes, white lashes all fluffy and long, those eyes that cast shadows onto his face. Those lips, full and glossy and a light shade of pink, so pretty, warm and always have some sort of icing on them. Some sort of sugar that he's been eating, he has no idea where he even stores all of those sweets. He thinks personally that too much sugar is vile.

Flushed cheeks, rosy and so sweet, just for Suguru. All for Suguru.

His mind automatically moves AWAY from his husbands beautiful face, for some reason. Such a perv. Satoru's chest. Big warm chest.. It flushes a light red color when he gets embarrassed.. and his nipples are so pretty and pink, flush and get hard when Suguru licks them. Or sucks on them, or rolls them in between his fingers. They always get so pretty for him, the noises that Satoru makes is the true meal of it all. How could he ever get past something as sweet as the song of his husband's pleasure?

He blinks, face quickly heating up. Hold on, he was supposed to be going to his room to cuddle up and cry. What the fuck is happening? Really, Suguru? Thinking about your husband's chest at this time in the night? Such a freak..

But, at the same time?

Something better.

Satoru's back. That big back, muscled and pale, scarred and freckled. It looks like a little solar system on his spine, god, it's beautiful. His back is beautiful with Suguru's nail marks in it, dragging down it in light red scratch marks. It's beautiful from behind, when his big body bounces, back muscles flexing and shifting with every thrust from Suguru. His back is beautiful when Suguru is washing it, pressing kisses down the curve of his back when it's all bitten up and sucked on. Hickeys and bites along those intricate freckles, tracing every single muscle and line on Satoru's back. He loves when Satoru is bulking, he gets small stretch marks along his back and sides, silver linings that he traces with his tongue and fingers. Trace down all the way to his thighs, thin but powerful when flexed. Those long legs, so pretty and gets flushed so easily, so edible. When they tremble, when the strongest is bent in half at his mercy, or maybe when he takes control of Satoru and rides on him like a cowgirl. He can't even tell which one is better, it really depends on his mood.

Oh.

The thought of Satoru's back and legs just shot waves of arousal through Suguru's poor mind, waking it up almost instantly. His eyes widened, lips parted slightly. Drool began pooling at the corner of his mouth, stiff and standing there. The weighted, warm blanket slides off of his shoulders, falling to the floor as soon as Suguru becomes so stiff and stops in his tracks. Oh.. Oh dear, that's.. a lot. That's a lot of imagination in the matter of a 1-minute radius of thinking of coitus.

He blinks, letting out a small, shaky breath. His pants feel very tight now. He's pathetic, really, getting rock hard just from the mere idea of Satoru's body.

He looks down at his pants, face flushed, ears burning up, and he notices. His pants are tented so fast, he didn't even realize what happened until he sees it. His cock straining against his sweats, heat pooled tight in clustered form in his belly, shooting up to his chest and head. His junk basically is thinking for him now, and will try to take over his brain making any decisions now. Great, this is all Satoru's fault for being such a sexy guy. He just gets better with age, huh?

Fucckkkk.

He manages to snap out of this mini-trance about Satoru's chest and back, and he just exhales. Shakily. He tries, he really tries to breathe and self regulate. There are better things to do then think of your husband's muscles.

But it doesn't work, not really.

Alright. I can get past this. Suguru, you're 35 years old. Right? You will NOT freak out because you're aroused. That's unacceptable, you ran a cult for nearly 10 years and manipulated hundreds of people into believing you. You can do anything you put your mind to. I'm sure self control comes easy to you, yes?

..

Nope. Gojō chest muscles. Oh man.

His husband Satoru. He misses Satoru. He misses him so much that the sudden ache in his heart just shot down his dick. Oh my goodness, Suguru, get it TOGETHER. YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE DEPRESSED HERE. This isn't humorous at all, it is not appropriate whatsoever and you need to get it together. PLEASE.

But he isn't. Nope. The thought of Satoru's back alone in detail just made blood rush down, make his brain static like and have his mind just completely fogged by Satoru. No, it's fine. Suguru curses under his breath, eyes half-lidded now. He speaks out loud in a whisper, as if he was talking to himself and trying to snap himself out of it.

"It can't be that bad.. right? I'll just.. feel it. Maybe it's just my imagination. Maybe I just need some sleep, right?" (Whatever you tell yourself, sweetie..)

Why is he even talking to himself? He's home alone and has no one else. Reluctantly, Suguru palms himself slow, feeling just how hard he is, and immediately flutters his eyes shut, giving a small whimper as his hand comes in contact with himself. It jerks against his sweats, basically begging to be let out, grow wings, fly away and chase down Satoru Gojō.

"hhn.. damn it.."

He immediately begins taking it away from there. Even through his big, layered sweatpants, he still felt that rush of arousal crash through him harder than anytime in these past few days. It's pathetic, really. He's a pathetic, pathetic, pathetic man who gets horny at the thought of his husbands chest and legs. Literally rock hard.

That's fine. That's cool. He can live with this, he can just not think of Satoru.

That will definitely work! He can just go lay down in his bed, cuddle up in new clothes, maybe watch some TV, go to sleep and get over this. He can shower in the morning, anyway. He's way too lazy. He totally WON'T keep thinking about Satoru's traps, or his big arms, or his stupidly long legs, or those stupid long lashes..

Yeah. No. He won't think about his chest either, yeah, no, totally not! I mean, WHO even thinks of Satoru Gojō's chest? Ha. WHAT a joke. It's not like they're perfectly plush pillows, perfect to rub your face and knock out on them. That's just a crazy thought that totally doesn't get Suguru hard. That's disgusting.

Suguru mutters to himself, "fuckin' hell.." before adjusting his sweats carefully, padding over to their room, leaving everything abandoned. The chips, the blanket, and whatever else he was doing. His brain went completely empty and oblivious to the world around him, now only trying to get the image of Satoru out of his brain.

He puts his hand on the knob of their door, hearing the small creak of their door as he opens it fully. He walks slowly, turning around slightly to close the door behind him. He does that even home alone, because he doesn't really like the idea of the rooms in his home opened. Satoru says he's crazy.

He isn't, though. He just wants to feel secure in his home, how is that weird? Satoru is the weird one for leaving the door open when he showers and pees at 1 am. That's weird. He isn't weird, he tries to convince himself for the second time out loud today. He sighs, soft and trying to relax himself from the throb in his pants and the hole in his heart. He misses Satoru. And his dick.

HUH? Who said that!?

Alright. Focus, Suguru. Changing. Getting into your comfortable clothes, put on some TV, turn on the air conditioner.. everything should be alright.

He hums to himself, peeling off the Digimon shirt, letting it bundle by his collarbones before pulling it off completely. He stretches in the air, chest tattoo shifting and piercings glinting in the dim light of the lamp left on. It's not too bright, a warm color to not strain his eyes, he wouldn't want Satoru to be uncomfortable in his own home either way. Suguru lied and said that he chose it just because it looked nice and had cherry blossom print in it, but he bought it specifically for Satoru. He bought it for Satoru because he knows that his eyes are sensitive, and he gets migraines easily. He cares so much about Satoru, in the small ways that matter.

Suguru looks down at himself, slowly taking off the sweatpants on him, uniting the strings wrapped up in a little bow. He lets the strings hang loose, pants becoming less tight on his waist now. He wishes Satoru was here to hold him, to take off his pants more tenderly than he could ever do for himself. Satoru puts more care in anything he does for himself, even if its as simple as putting his socks on for him, or washing his hair with those long fingers, nails always neatly trimmed for that reason.

He lets his pants slide off as he continuously thinks about Satoru, his voice, his hands, everything about him. He remembers how Satoru one time bathed him for a long time after he got sick and couldn't take care of himself – he knows he got lucky with Satoru. He knows Satoru would do anything and everything for him, so why couldn't he ask? Why couldn't he just ask him to get his ass BACK home before he starts throwing glass at walls and using the glass shards to cut off all of his fingers?! He wishes he could get the courage to just.. tell Satoru. And hell, he's standing here in the middle of his room with his pants slid down to his ankles. He looks ridiculous.

He lets his underwear down, the cute ones he wore tonight with the little skulls on them, with lace trimming. He only wore them because he was under the impression that Satoru was coming home tonight, but he wasn't. And that upset him a little bit, not at Satoru, but at those jackass higher-ups. Like.. are you serious? He had a chance to have his husband come back early, and they took that away from him? Fuck them. Fuck those old hags. Suddenly, his dick isn't hard anymore at the thought of their wrinkled faces and judging attitudes.

He grumbles under his breath again, muttering a small cocksuckers, before bending down, picking up his clothes and putting them into the hamper. He grunts, holding his lower back while he slowly stands up, making a tiny oof sound. Wow, he's gotten old. Not really, 35 isn't even that old. He just has a shitty back from past injuries and just overall bad posture, and maybe from a few near death experiences..?

Clothes. Right. Still naked. Damn it, Suguru, can't you just focus?!

He blinks, shaking his head before cracking his back, hand on one hip, giving another wince of discomfort, before that pain slowly shifts to relief of his back not being on fire anymore. He slowly walks over to his pajama cabinet, humming a soft tune as he looks through it.

Long sleeved pajama set?

Hmm.. nah. Too hot.

He continues to look, nothing really is catching his eye, he's too lazy to put on anything with buttons. And he doesn't want something too big, because he's hot right now. Hot and sweaty.

Ah.

He pulls out a special set that Satoru got him for his birthday with a small little smile, tilting his head. Perfect. A silk little robe, not too thick to wear, but long enough to cover at-least most of his thighs. Its lightweight, covers enough.. but it's also cute. Kind of cheeky. He'll look sexy in this! He gives a small, genuine chuckle for the first time in a while, before slipping it on, putting each arm through, tying it in the front. It feels good on him..

It feels just a bit tight on the arm area and the stomach area, but he's sure it isn't terrible. At-least that's what he thinks for a split second before his brain just demolished everything. Of course it did, why wouldn't it? Why would he ever be confident in his own skin? How dare he try to love himself?

Did I gain a lot of weight? What if Satoru hates this? Should I throw it out? Maybe I don't look good anymore for Satoru..

Suguru stays quiet in the room, looking down at his scarred stomach with the tiniest pudge to it, putting his palm over it, before walking over to their mirror, trying to stay hopeful and confident. There's no way he looks that bad, I mean.. Satoru basically worships the ground I walk on. There's no way I look terrible. He tries to remind himself that Satoru has licked every crevice of his body before, has kissed every single speck on his body that he didn't even think of looking at or even being important enough to worship. He has to remind himself that Satoru one time kissed his ankles and begged for forgiveness because he forgot to take out the trash. I mean, who even does that?

Satoru does that, as he's obsessed with him. Or maybe he isn't obsessed, maybe he's just in love with Suguru. Or maybe it's both?

He looks at himself in their full-bodied mirror, not thinking or saying anything for a long time. He just.. stares.

For a moment, his vision blurs around the edges, focusing solely on the mirror. Unfortunately, he doesn't focus on the good things about himself in this mirror, he only focuses on the bad. He never focuses on the good like Satoru does for his body, or his face, or hair, or anything. Suguru's smile quickly curves down, a shaky breath leaving his lips as his face is neutral now.

His hair is different than it was 15 years ago, his hair has grown slightly thinner from stress and age. His hair is long, still beautiful and glowing, neatly trimmed and completely natural. It smells good from his hair oils, his expensive shampoo that Satoru bought him, his conditioned ends. But yet, even through it's beauty, all he sees is the things unworthy to him. His temples are graying faster than he would like, Grey strands peppering his hair, shining through like silver little ribbons throughout. It's beautiful to Satoru, but not to him. He would never take the time to kiss his hair, or braid it meticulously like Satoru does. He just leaves it down most days, or ties it into some half-assed bun. He doesn't really care how it looks now, as he doesn't like leaving the house unless absolutely necessary. Until then will he do a nice, low ponytail, or a neat, low bun that Satoru always swoons over, saying he looks like the most beautiful thing ever.

He isn't, really.

His eyes look exhausted, dark circles underneath the almond eyes with the dark amber irises, swirling with so many emotions always. He thinks they're nothing special, not really. Even when Satoru kisses every crevice of those eyes, kisses tears away during sad moments or sex, or kisses his eyelids whenever he's insecure about them. Satoru loves his eyes, except he doesn't really know why. They're just eyes. Nothing special. He doesn't like his eyes, he thinks they're empty, something unworthy of looking at. He's been told that they look terrifying, they shouldn't be worshiped the way they are.

Maybe they're all right.

His lips are nothing ordinary, just lips. They're just lips, soft with a prominent Cupid's bow, a puce color. Except Satoru doesn't say they're just lips, he's over the top with them. He finds them so beautiful, kisses them every chance he gets. Suguru doesn't understand why he loves them so much, he says they're the entryway to his voice and beautiful words. He doesn't think they're anything special. Suguru just sees chapped, bloodied from chewing on them all day, he sees his mouth that people have called sharp tongued or something malicious. A mouth in which all that comes out of it is all lies, a mouth that doesn't deserve to be kissed or cared for. He thinks the scar across his mouth is hideous,or really anything that's on his face.

His gaze glides down over to his body, where it stings more. He's never looked at his body in a way that Satoru does, he always sees it as something unworthy looking at. Something that's just used up and broken, something that's deserving to be bloodied and bruised. His body, scarred with battle and age looks like it's been through hell and back. It really did, except probably worse than hell. His right arm, scarred and burnt, scars from his past and curses that he fought. Some of the scars are from himself as they get lower and lower on his arm, except those days are over now. He tries to forget those days where he hated himself so much that he carved it into his very own skin, the skin that was loved and created by his parents. But, that isn't how Satoru views his arms. No. Not even close.

Satoru views his arms as the most beautiful things, the semicolon tattoo on his right wrist, over the pale thin lines. Satoru has kissed every single scar on his arms, even though there has to be over 25 of them on each one. He lets his lips linger on the bigger scars longer every time he kisses the delicate skin, knowing it's sensitive and difficult for Suguru to accept it. Satoru doesn't see it burdening loving Suguru, he loves those scars. He thinks it made Suguru the person he is now, he thinks its beautiful that his beautiful Suguru is still here today. Suguru would never find the beauty in his arms like Satoru does – he just thinks they're arms. Arms that do nothing but take up space in this world, ugly and confusing to look at.

Suguru can go on and on about things that he hates about himself, things that he feels doesn't matter at all. Things that he deems useless or ugly, and yet, despite it all? Satoru will always find ways to worship the things he hates. He will always find ways to find beauty in those imperfections, in Satoru's eyes, they aren't even imperfections. Stretch marks and scars on Suguru's thighs? He doesn't focus on the ugly, he doesn't think anything of Suguru is ugly except for those evil thoughts of his. He thinks he's beautiful. Tiger stripes. Stomach not as flat as from when he was 16? Beautiful. Even better. Satoru LOVES everything about Suguru, regardless of his body type.

See, now, all of this information? It would be really useful right now if Satoru was here with Suguru, telling him all those sweet things. Telling him he's still wanted and beautiful even with a bit of tummy, still touching and grabbing his thighs, still running his hands along Suguru, feeling the roughness of his scars, the ink from Suguru's tattoos. It would be useful if Satoru was right there behind him, bending him over the counter and kissing down his tattooed back, telling him how gorgeous he looks from behind. It would be useful if Satoru was riding on top of him, clawing at Suguru's shoulders, calling him the most handsome boy in the world, telling him he's amazing and wanted.

There's a small problem with this situation right now.

Satoru is not here.

He isn't here to say anything sweet to Suguru to uplift him again and again, he isn't there at all. Suguru finds himself looking in the mirror, snapping out of this little trance he's in about his husband. He blinks once, twice, hands fisting into his side. When he looks into the mirror, he doesn't like what he sees. He doesn't see a beautiful man, he doesn't see someone worthy of fucking or loving. He doesn't see someone worth taking the time to kiss every inch of their body. He just sees himself. Nothing. Nothing at all. Someone to look past, or someone to give a nasty stare in the aisle for looking funny. Someone unworthy. Not someone worth marrying Satoru Gojō. The OH, SO GREAT SATORU GOJŌ.

Before Suguru notices, there's already tears prickling in the corner of his eyes, staring at himself with such disdain that you would think he killed his puppy. He sniffled, unable to pull away from the mirror, looking and nitpicking every little aspect of his body that nobody could see except him. He clutches the soft robe, no longer feeling sexy or handsome, not feeling any feeling of love to himself. He feels ugly now, he feels unwanted and gross now that he has no one here to hold him and kiss it better. He has no one to sob into their chest, no one to tell him he's so sexy in that robe even if he has a bit of tummy rolls or cellulite on his thighs and ass.

They begin to stream down his cheeks, catching at his jaw as his gaze lowers, looking down at the floor, lip slowly beginning to give trembles. He lets out a broken little sob, before covering his face, trying to hold himself back from crying. He doesn't wanna cry, no, he really doesn't. He's humiliated, crying that his husband has been gone for only 2 days and he's acting like some Victorian man crying because his wife got accused of being a witch, and got burned at the stake. He whimpers into his palms, soaking up his hands and cheeks with tears, hiccuping and trying to keep quiet. Despite being home alone, no one there to tell him that crying is bad, he still hates it either way. He doesn't like to be vulnerable, he hates how he's so emotional and blows up at every little thing. He tries to stop his tears, but the more he tries, the harder he sobs. He can't control it. He can't control all of these emotions hitting him at once, like a stab to his chest, like it's gutting him alive.

All he can do is crawl into the bed with tears straining against his eyes, curling up into the sheets, sobbing, just hoping Satoru will come back soon. He hopes he will. He needs Satoru so bad. He brings his knees up, tucking himself under the blanket with his arms holding the pillow, Satoru's shirt wrapped around it as he cries into it. It's pathetic, but it's the closest thing he has, the closest thing he has to Satoru's scent, his warmth, it feels like he's being held by a warm chest.

It doesn't really feel like that, Satoru is so much warmer and hugs him back. This pillow is nice, sure, but it isn't Satoru. And he wants his Satoru. Nobody else, not some stupid pillow.

Maybe he can just sleep this off, and everything will get better in the morning.

11:25 PM

Satoru's POV

Train-Ride Home

10:55 PM

Satoru really is exhausted from that mission, WHEW, it was a nightmare. He couldn't get those kids to listen to him for the life of him, it seems as if they were distracted and excited for Winter break. See, that's great! But, Satoru has been low on patience, energy, and was one fake grin from slamming a brick into the wall, jumping into the gutter, or going home and bashing his head into the wall. He really should be more stern with those kids, but he can't help but turn into a big marshmallow. His students just keep getting more annoying as the time goes on, sometimes Megumi and Yuji come to visit him. They're a couple now, gee, who would have guessed? Sometimes Nobara comes to visit him too, she always tells him the juicy gossip at her new college, it's great! But, she still does call him old man, and points out every wrinkle on his pale skin. Gee, thanks.

His new kids, luckily for him weren't the worse that he's seen, and besides, the mission was much quicker than anticipated, and he gets to go to his Suguru a whole TWO days earlier! That's right, TWO. HE NEVER GETS THAT OPPORTUNITY. He actually was supposed to have a two day mission in the first place, but the bastards said that he needed to stay for an extra two days, JUST to let him off early. Most of the time he's forced to stay back, listen to these elders ramble on about how he's irresponsible and needs to be more serious. Like, really? I've saved your measly little lives dozens of times and you continue to ostracize me?!

Yeah, he could technically have teleport-ed back home to his Suguru, but he won't. Suguru told him to be responsible and not just abandon his responsibilities, which made him pout and call him boring. But whatever Suguru wants, he'll get. He doesn't mind being bossed around by him, hell, he loves it. He loves how Suguru puts his hands on his hips, hair to one side and wrapped up in his big t-shirt, or he loves how Suguru looks with his hair tied back in that low bun he loves, pointing his finger and telling him to cut it out. He loves Suguru when he tells him what to do in that deep, stern voice that's only gotten better with age!

Satoru gives a small grin at his phone, sitting on the train, man spreading. Legs are parted, infinity humming like a quiet static around him, giving the unapproachable aura. He doesn't really want to be approached anyway, no offense to these people on the train, but most of them look not fun! Or they look like they just don't shower in general, so he would prefer to keep it on the low-key! He really doesn't like talking to people, no matter how goofy he seems, or how many damn jokes he comes up with in a day. He's sick and tired of seeing their faces, and he's exhausted, rightfully so. He's 35 years old, hasn't got cracked in 2 days and is a bit grumpy.

But he tries not to bring that energy to his baby, he knows Suguru gets pissed off easily too, so why would he even be grumpy around him? No way he's starting a fight with him. He pouts, scrolling mindlessly.

Suguru is probably sleeping.. maybe I shouldn't bother him.

Satoru thinks to himself. He usually would bother Suguru, but he had a gut feeling today that maybe he should let him be (idiot). Maybe Suguru was grumpy too, and he didn't genuinely wanna bother him. He hovers over Suguru's contact, before his lips curl downward, and he puts his phone down. He hums, quiet, looking around the train to just.. observe people. He enjoys just observing sometimes, no matter how much he's in the center of attention, sometimes he really just doesn't want to be stared at. He doesn't like it, it makes him uncomfortable with being looked at ALL day. Sure, he likes the attention most of the time, but sometimes these people just won't give him a break! Like, yeah, I get it, I'm the strongest! Get out of here now, bruh! That's what the cool kids say now, right? God. Suguru would have cringed so hard. That means it was hilarious.

Satoru looks at each individual person, scanning them, giving a small wince at some of them.

Creepy.

Definitely a Karen.

Jeez, what an annoying brat. And that's me saying that.

What is that hairdo?

Mr. Serious over here..

Jeez. All these people look like they could use a snickers.

Satoru stops man-spreading, instead moving one long leg, dragging it over the other to cross his legs. God, he's so bored! Maybe he can just daydream or something? Hmm. Let's see! Maybe he'll daydream about finally getting to rest, or maybe he can have some snacks when he gets home! Or even better, he can see his Suguru. His husband. His very serious, sexy husband who is now graying and he thinks its the sexiest thing in the WORLD.

Ah. Suguru.. he's been in love with Suguru ever since they were sixteen years old. How the time does fly. Satoru has always loved Suguru, everything about him, even the nasty parts. He loves his grumpiness in the morning, he loves his delicious cooking, he loves his hands, he loves even his fourteenth mole on his body, the one in the lower right of his back, right above his ass. God, that one is so pretty. He loves Suguru, and every chance that Satoru gets, he worships that man head to toe! It's not just because they're married that Satoru loves spoiling and loving on him, he genuinely enjoys doing it, seeing how shy his husband gets.

He loves how Suguru's hair is beginning to Grey just a little bit at his temples, he loves the way it shines and catches in the sun, like silver specks in that gorgeous, raven hair. He loves it, it's like they can match real soon. He loves how it's so long that he can braid it everyday and see how it curls a bit, he loves how he can tug it gently just to make Suguru tell him he's an idiot. He loves how he can wrap his fist around it and tug Suguru's head back—

WHOA. WHOA. OKAY, SATORU. Let's not sexualize your poor husband at 11:05 PM. He's probably exhausted, poor thing had to stay home from this mission because he wasn't feeling good. He was gonna stay home with Suguru, but Suguru told him to go along with his students, that they need him. He pouts subtly, still deep in thought, but looks like a composed man sitting cross legged on the train. But in reality, he's thinking about Suguru, his Suguru, when will he finally get home to surprise him? He knows that he's been down in the dumps, lately, and he wants to come home for a while to stay with him and hold him, maybe have some alone-time. They barely get to have alone time together, anytime for sex or to even cuddle at night due to his missions. He can't remember the last time he ranted about his new favorite color to Suguru!

Satoru feels so guilty for it all the time, he knows that it makes Suguru sad, not being able to see him as often. He isn't stupid, he can read Suguru like a book, he can tell when he's sad, or happy, or pissed off. He knows why Suguru doesn't say anything, though. He doesn't want Satoru to feel guilty about his job, yet he actually feels more guilt that Suguru has to hide his feelings from him. He knows he isn't the best at being serious, but Suguru knows he can! Suguru probably is deep cleaning the house or rearranging the houses furniture, some weird shit Suguru does when he's not around. He gives a small grin to himself, thinking of all the times that Suguru has rearranged the house.

3 months ago was the worst one. God, he still shudders at it, their spices were in alphabetical order, their forks, spoons, and knives were ALSO in alphabetical order, but organized into color? The COUCHES were put in some weird position, it looked nice, but who the hell has time for that? Don't even get me STARTED on that dumb-ass bookshelf, Suguru rearranged it in alphabetical order, and every book fit so perfectly that they almost couldn't get the books out anymore. Well, it's not like he reads anyway, he doesn't have time for that. But, JEEZ, what is it with the alphabetical order, Suguru?

He shakes his head, a bigger fond smile playing on his lips at the thought of his husband. He knows he shouldn't be teasing him for something like organization, but it's really crazy. At-least Suguru has gotten better with his coping mechanisms, last time he didn't cope properly, he killed a whole village and became a cult leader.

…

That's pretty bad considering Satoru and him are married again, but hey, Suguru is really a changed man. Who knows how bad this could have gone? It was, in the beginning, Satoru genuinely thought that his brain was going to explode from how pissed off Suguru got him. He has never been more enraged by a man before, and it was his own husband, mainly because Suguru knows his weaknesses and soft spots. But Suguru isn't like that anymore, they're doing so much better than they were 5 years ago, believe me.

Satoru checks his watch, grunting at the time. He should have been home at 11:10, but it's already 11:16 and he's still on this stupid train. He misses Suguru, maybe he'll send him one little text. He opens his phone, lazily sending a little message with his thumb, phone snug in his hand and tilted at an angle so no one sees.

[suguru my dearest husband ever ]

[Hi baby!! How u feeling?] « ⚠️

[B home SOON they left me off early loll] « ⚠️

[I LOVE U SUGAR ILL B HOME SOON, OK? Love you] « ⚠️

[ERROR: NOT SENT]

Satoru's about to smile and send a selfie, but then he notices that error. What? Error? Satoru stares at his screen. Are you serious right now…?

He tries sending another text, but it gives the same code, and he squints his eyes in annoyance. Seriously? Right now?

He groans - shutting off his phone, quickly getting frustrated. Error? Why wouldn't it send? Of course it wouldn't send, what if it was an emergency? His Suguru wouldn't know! Damn it. Okay, well, now he's worried. What if Suguru isn't feeling good? How would he have told Satoru that he was feeling worse? What if he's sad? What if god forbid he fell because he got so drunk and he busted his ass?!

His stop finally comes, his eyes wide. He needs to get off of here, fast. Maybe he can get him some flowers or a cute little gift. He stands tall, legs stretching and adjusting his blindfold. He hums, looking around, on high alert now, before stepping out of the train. Next to everyone else, he looks terrifying, at-least in these poor tiny people's eyes. He walks quickly out of the train, eyes quickly scanning around, walking up the stairs out of the station. Finally. Away from people.

He walks slower now that he's out of the station, feet pacing themselves at a steady rhythm as he keeps his guard up, looking around to see if anything fishy is going on in the area. He has a bad habit of always on protect the city mode, protect and make sure nothing bad happens, as well as walking way too fast and constantly shaky, always on alert. It could be a good thing, but at the same time, it messes him up pretty bad. Constantly worried something is gonna happen, that if he lets his guard down for even one minute, everything will collapse. But he doesn't let the thoughts overcome him right now, he's thinking about one person and one person only. Suguru. He needs to get home to his Suguru, to make sure he's okay, to make sure he isn't having a breakdown.

Nah, he's sure that Suguru is okay, right? He would call or text him if he was feeling down. Right? Right?

Satoru paused in his head for a moment, looking down at the sidewalk, still on alert but now thinking about Suguru. No. He wouldn't call or text if he was feeling down. He never shares how he feels inside, even if it's obvious. He closes his feelings down and lets them rot in his heart until it's too much for him to handle, then he explodes all over the place. He doesn't know how to explain them to Satoru, and feels bad for even the idea of opening up. And Satoru feels terrible about it, he wishes that he could help his husband out more. He wishes he was always there for him, wishes he could read his mind and hold him through it. But he isn't a mind reader. Sure, he can tell if Suguru is off, or if he's feeling down, but he can't instantly tell whether Suguru wants him, or if he had a bad day and wants to be left alone.

Now he's really worried.

Satoru looks past the flower shop, debating whether he should get some for Suguru. Well.. that would be nice, and Suguru's daisies died out a few days ago. He can get a new flower for him, hell, he would buy this whole flower store for Suguru. He can buy this whole flower store for Suguru, but he won't. He knows Suguru doesn't want it too flashy, too many things at once. One bouquet is alright.

He walks over, reaching for his wallet, whilst silently observing all of these beautiful flowers. He hums in approval, touching the roses with his hand. Romantic. He picks 3 roses, and looks for some other flowers. Sunflowers? No. Too yellow. Daisies? He just got him those. He'll just go to find some more, so, he takes a few steps forward, about to go.

Well..

He pauses in his tracks, looking at the daisies again, head tilted. He gives a small smile to them. They're beautiful, so fresh and neatly stacked.

His Suguru does love daisies. And he loves consistency. Maybe he can get him two roses, some daisies, and he'll see about the others.

He steps backwards, picking the best two daisies he could find, only the best for his lover. He shifts them with his roses in the right hand, now carrying 2 roses, 4 daisies. He walks around a little bit more, and finds his other picks. He found 2 black tulips, 2 dark blue Veronica's flowers, and 2 Amber dahlia flowers. 12 flowers should be enough, right? He shrugs, he has no idea anything about flowers, but he knows his Suguru thinks they're beautiful to look at. He says that they're living things and deserve to be recognized for all they do..? Yeah, sure, babe. That's nice.

Satoru goes up to the florist in the flower shop, putting on a small smile. He sees she seems nervous, so he doesn't do any flashy smiles or loud antics as he usually would do. He crouches down to her level, putting the flowers gently down onto the counter, speaking low.

"Hey. Is it alright if you can put these in a nice little vase for me?"

The older woman looks up, seemingly more relaxed with a small smile. She nods, her wrinkly hands finding things harder to do quicker when she was young. She steps to the side, taking the decorative paper, black with blue stripes, wraps the flowers up in the paper. She rolls it with ease, tucking in the last pieces before giving Satoru the flower with her small, exhausted hands.

Satoru's face softens when he notices how slow the lady is moving, how she's taking the flowers in one hand, and looking in his wallet for some cash.

Aw.. look at her. So little. Only elder I'd ever respect.

He pulls out 10,000 yen. Not thinking at all, and places it gently in the palm of her hand. No way he's letting her resist the money, she seems hardworking enough and she was very sweet. He nods, shaking her head when she tried to resist, calling him a handsome and kind young man. He gave a small grin, bowing his head and thanking her for the beautiful flowers, now making his way.

Satoru puts his wallet back in one of his pockets, before quickly and quietly walking away. Alright. Now he's speeding up, only 5 minutes away from home. He's so excited to see his Suguru, maybe he's doing laundry. Or maybe he's laying on the couch and watching that shark documentary he likes? Or maybe he's eating? He's so happy he got to go home to his baby, but..

It continues to linger in the back of his mind. What if Suguru isn't okay right now? What if the reason he hasn't texted or called is because he's sad? What if he hasn't eaten? Or what if he needed him?

The thought of that churns in his stomach, he doesn't want that. He speeds up almost instantly, walking down the hill to go to their home. To his home.

To his Suguru.

11:34 PM

Conjoined POV

Home – a place to go to when

things get too hard; the heart of their

lives, a consistent love

11:45 PM

The sound of the front door opening is something that the two are both used to everyday, coming back from grocery shopping or coming back from a meeting. But this time, it's a quarter to midnight, and only one of them is going through their door.

Satoru unlocks the bottom lock with the key, hearing the slow creak of the wooden door whisper a gentle tune that he's used to. He shuts the door behind him, taking off his shoes by the rug, putting them neatly next to Suguru's sandals. He knows Suguru prefers to keep the shoes tidy, and he will always respect that. He looks around, raising one brow.

It's quiet in the house, almost too quiet. There's no sound of the washing machine, no sound of the dishwasher, not even the sound of the television. He takes a few steps forward into the living room, skittish already, beginning to feel his heart thump against his wrists, his neck, his chest. He runs a hand through his hair nervously, feeling the shaved part of the back of his head to feel something. To make sure he's real.

Why is Suguru not here? Is he asleep? Maybe he is resting. That's normal, right?

Well, while he's here, he might as well just.. put the flowers in a vase for Suguru. He turns around, walks over to the kitchen first, taking one of Suguru's glass vases, before unwrapping the flowers carefully. He lets the vase fill up with water in the sink, before tossing the paper in the trash. He doesn't know how to do this, is he supposed to trim the stems? He does not know anything. He turns off the water.

He trims them only a little bit, before throwing out the rest of the excess leaves or cut up stems. He places each one gently into the vase, making it look perfect for Suguru, walking over and placing it on their dining room table, right in the center where Suguru likes it. That looks good. He thinks it looks good, he hopes Suguru likes the mix that he did..

He turns over, frowning slightly when he looks back at the living room again. Somethings up. Something is telling him to go into the living room, and he doesn't know what.

He takes one look at the couch, slowly walking over to that part of the living room, and his frown immediately returns. He looks concerned, crouching down to level with the floor, picking up a weighted blanket that fell to the ground. He holds it up, feeling it, it's gone cold quick. Suguru never just throws a blanket on the floor, he always folds it into a neat little square and puts it onto the couch again, and always scolds Satoru for being so messy. He turns around, beginning to get real confused.

His chips?

He raises one brow, holding the bowl of untouched chips in his hands. That's random. Suguru would have eaten these.. did he forget to eat an actual meal today? What's happening? Why is everything on the floor? Satoru pinches his nose, brows furrowing slightly at the many thoughts in his head of what his husband could have done.

Oh, Jesus Christ.. baby.. what the fuck? Did you get drunk again?

Drunken Suguru physically pains his heart. But he can't help but think, he didn't see any alcohol in the recycling, and if Suguru really was drunk, their whole pantry would be gone. Suguru would have ate it all. And he probably still would've been on the couch, giggling at any little thing around him. If Suguru was drunk, he would have called him ten times in a row telling him that he wants him, and that he's feeling sexy.

Satoru takes a deep breath for what he's about to witness. He's expecting nothing but chaos, maybe Suguru is laughing or sleeping. Maybe Suguru summoned that tentacle curse instead because he wanted to have a little bit of fun.

…Oh God. Let's not talk about the tentacle curse.

Satoru cringes, face flushing, before turning from the living room to their bedroom, walking over slowly, bracing himself for impact. He doesn't know what's coming for him. Suguru can't be crying, is he? If he was sad, he would have told him! Oh. Wait. His service wasn't working at the station, never-mind. Satoru blinks, hand hovering over the door handle, suddenly nervous. What the fuck is this terrible feeling? His six eyes is telling him that somethings wrong. Somethings wrong with his Suguru and he wasn't there to save him. Did he have a stroke? A seizure? A panic attack? Did he die of alcohol poisoning?! Is Suguru wanting to get a divorce with him?!

Satoru sighs, hesitating, before keeping his eyes fixed on the door. He stares at it. Did he make a mistake coming home soon? No. It's never a mistake coming home to Suguru. He twists the handle carefully, making as little noise as possible, walking in the room as quietly as possible. Satoru just stands there, staring at the bundle curled up underneath the blanket, blinking slowly, trying to figure it out. His first thought is.. Oh, Suguru is sleeping.

Satoru almost smiled and ran up to him to mess up his hair, but then he sees the small tremble of what seems to be his Suguru's shoulders. The small sob under his breath, the way that he seems to be curling in on himself. He's a quiet crier, so of course Satoru's first assumption was sleep. But it isn't sleep. Suguru's crying.

Suguru is indeed curled up in their bed, wrapped around in a blanket, hugging that same stupid pillow that he smothered with Satoru's cologne. It's wet now, wet with tears and his snot from sobbing into it for approximately 20 minutes, nonstop, changing between loud wails or quiet hiccups and sniffles. He has no clue that Satoru is in the room, the man is silent on his feet despite how big he is. He's also too unaware of his surroundings, completely out of it, everything he's been holding in just pouring out of him like mini rivers. It doesn't even feel alien anymore, all he can do is cry and cry about everything and nothing at the same time.

He doesn't even remember why he started crying, was it about Satoru? Was it about his appearance? What was it this time? He has no clue. All he knows is that he's lonely, so lonely, and misses Satoru. And he hasn't texted or called him, and maybe Satoru hates him now. Maybe Satoru wants to stay at that mission and stay as far away from him as possible – even though he knows deep down that isn't true. He knows it. Everything seems to be blurred, his glasses on the bedside table, clutching at it, hair getting on his face and in his mouth, tears soaking through the long strands quick.

..

?

A gentle hand is felt on his shoulder.

Usually, Suguru hates being snuck up on, it gets him nervous and most of the time pissed off. But it didn't this time. He felt the love through that cold, big hand giving a small rub to the shoulder it laid on. It's familiar, someone he knows. Someone he holds great amounts of love for. Without even looking back, he knows who it is, he's recognized every shape and line on Satoru's body by touch, smell, taste, his sight all in one. He does not need to see Satoru to know who he is. His aura is apparent everywhere he goes, you can just feel Satoru, how powerful he is, how he makes himself known without having to say one word. It's Satoru. But.. how? How could that be? Satoru is on a mission. He left. He isn't supposed to be back for two days.

"Suguru..?"

Oh.

That is Satoru.

His Satoru.

Suguru turns slightly to look at Satoru, eyes puffy and rims red from sobbing for so long, arms letting go of the pillow so tightly now that he sees him. Satoru. Right in front of him after he was supposed to be on a mission. Suguru looks up, eyes shining and his lashes clumped, lip giving a tremble as he tries to explain himself to Satoru. As to why he's sobbing so late at night randomly, why he's just staring at him. Why he's just there. He sniffles, letting out another sob when Satoru's fingers slowly wipe a tear off of his eye, trying not to irritate the delicate skin of his lovers eyes.

"Satoru.."

Satoru's mind is just broken at this point. He doesn't remember the last time that Suguru was crying.. like this. He stays quiet for a beat second - before instantly climbing into the bed with Suguru, cradling the back of his head to lay against the plush chest, letting Suguru rest on his sternum. He shushes him, wrapping his other arm around his husband's middle back, hand resting flat and rubbing big, gentle circles into the warm muscle. He presses a kiss to Suguru's hair, resting his cheek there, before getting watery-eyed himself - quickly swallowing it down. He hates seeing Suguru cry, he loves Suguru and feels so guilty for leaving him all alone. Is he a bad husband?

He should've known this was gonna happen, he should've known Suguru was hiding such huge feelings from him for such a long time.

"Oh, Suguru.. shh, baby.. yeah, s'okay. You're okay.. I got you.."

Suguru sniveled into his chest, dropping the pillow instantly and clutching at Satoru's sides, shoulders trembling and voice shaking when he tries to speak, or shaking when he lets out another sob. Snot and tears go down his face, dampening Satoru's uniform, ugly and a telltale sign how hard he's crying, despite it not being so loud. He shakes his head no, over and over again, seemingly trying to find the words. Trying to find words to explain what's happening, or trying to say how much he loves and appreciates him for being here. He leans into every kiss on the head he gets from Satoru, wanting more and more, heart greedy for his husbands love and affection right now. He mumbled under his breath utter nonsense, trying to explain what's wrong. But he can't.

"Please.. Satoru.."

"I know, Su'. I know. I'm right here, yeah? Breathe in with me.. that's it, s'good. Doin' so good, okay? I'm here for you, baby. I got you. You don't have to say anything". He coaxes, hand moving from circles to gentle strokes up and down Suguru's back, petting along the slope of his spine, other hand resting in Suguru's hair.

He combs through the long, messy hair, hand massaging slow and steady at Suguru's scalp, kissing his forehead, trying to soothe this ache away. He's here now. He's here to take it all away, no matter how long it takes.

"I missed you so much, I- I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm so- so- like this, I- I mean, it's.. I didn't know you were coming, I'm– fuck, Satoru, I didn't even make dinner.. I'm sorry, I should've known, I'm- I shouldn't have just sulked all d–"

Satoru's brow raises, alerted, because what the hell is his husband talking about? He's crying and missing him. Satoru really doesn't care if he made dinner or not, there is always a time and place for food. Right now is not it.

"Suguru.. stop that."

"M'sorry." Suguru mumbles, hiding his face again. Shameful.

Satoru gives a small, sad smile, shaking his head. He dismisses all apologies said by his husband, continuing to look at him with eyes glazed over. He thinks Suguru is the most beautiful man ever, he thinks that he's ethereal. The grays in his hair catch so beautifully in the dark lighting, only by that warm lamp he always keeps on. He loves how Suguru bought that for him. He loves everything about Suguru, and he really can't believe the words that are coming out of Suguru's mouth – sorry for not making dinner? Seriously? He's SOBBING, his poor husband's eyes are red. Literally red. How long has he even been crying for? Satoru feels like a failure right now, his husband is crying and it's probably all his fault.

"It's okay, baby. I promise you, it's okay. Listen, Su, you don't have to cook me anything. I promise. You work hard enough, I know you're exhausted. I'm here. Do you wanna talk about it?" Satoru inquires, voice staying soft and quiet for Suguru to not overwhelm him. He continues petting through his hair, soothing him quick.

Suguru doesn't respond to him, just stays put, closing his eyes and finally feeling his tears slow, cheeks not so wet anymore (they transferred to Satoru's uniform). His heart thumps quick, but steadies along with Satoru's, letting himself finally be held. He isn't as embarrassed as he thought he would be, he didn't try to play it off. He doesn't really know how to explain his feelings to Satoru, but he knows Satoru understands. He always understands him. He blurred a quick "I do want to talk". That's enough. That's enough for him.

"Okay, baby. You can talk when you want. I won't judge you. That's okay."

"Promise?"

"Of course, Sugu."

"It's stupid."

Satoru frowns at that, hand on Suguru's hair slipping down to his chin, lifting his face up. He raises one brow, his expression visible even through that blindfold. The expression of really? He cups Suguru's cheek, prying away the rest of his tears with his hands, letting his touch linger on his face before stroking his hand gently over Suguru's skin.

"Tch.. Suguru, you know nothing is stupid with you, yeah?" He says it playfully, but he's dead serious. He means it. He doesn't want Suguru to just think he can't express his emotions or feel like some burden because it's stupid. Nothing is stupid to Satoru if its something that hurts Suguru. Nothing at all. "Tell me. Promise I won't judge what thoughts are going on in that head of yours."

Suguru nods. He takes a soft, tired breath. He meets Satoru's eyes, or where he thinks they are, and looks into them. He's nervous. Really. I mean, it really can't be that bad to tell Satoru that he had a break-down over him missing him. That's the easy part. Not really, none of this is easy. He'll be fine, he just needs to.. let go.

"I missed you so much that it felt like my ribcage got snapped, Satoru. I'm serious. Um.. and- and every single second that you were pulled away from me, I wanted to call. But I felt too guilty and I know you work hard already, and.. I know that I'm the one that told you to go on that mission. But I didn't want you to go. I never do. I lied. I'm sorry. I just wanted you to stay here with me, and.. I- I just, I don't know. I can't handle being alone anymore, it's so.. so lonely, Satoru. I have no one but you."

..

He blurts it out in a quick blurb, awkward babbling and stammers on his words, but he managed to get the words out. It was hard to speak. He feels embarrassed for letting that show, and he didn't even mean to show all of that. He was just gonna say he missed him! Is that.. did he- did he fuck up? He probably overshared. Oh God. No. Please don't turn into an argument. He is going into the depths of self hate. Quick. He said too much. Too much.

It's a small silence after he says all of his feelings. Everything seems as if time stopped.

Satoru stays quiet, hand still stroking slow over Suguru's hair, his other hand rubbing slow, small circles right in between his shoulder blades. He doesn't stop, he doesn't tell him anything for a while. He just listens. Listens to every word. Doesn't make a face. Doesn't frown. He keeps his expression blank, humming slow, steady, something and someone for Suguru to hang onto.

..

"Suguru, that's far from pathetic."

..

"Baby, I- fuck, Suguru, I.. I didn't– I wouldn't have gone on that dumb-ass mission if I would've realized sooner that you were lonely. Suguru.. the last thing I would ever want for you is to be lonely. I love you so, so much. You know that, yeah? Please, I know it's hard. But your feelings matter, and I need to know these things. I need to know if you feel sad without me, or if it's getting bad again. We've known each other for almost 20 years, Su. I've loved you since I was 16, shit, you're my whole life."

He pauses for a moment, just to press a slow, lingering kiss to Suguru's forehead, letting him feel how his breath ghosts against his skin, how it's there and breathing for him. Always. He presses another slow kiss to Suguru's right eyelid, where there's a scar, with a watery smile, he smooth back Suguru's hair again. He slowly begins to pepper kisses all over Suguru's face, his eyes, his nose, his cheeks, his chin, jawline, under the jaw, near the ears.. and finally lets his lips meet Suguru's. The kiss isn't flashy or greedy, it's slow and gentle, trying to show Suguru how much he's missed his lips, his taste, everything about him. "My beautiful boy.."

Suguru blinks, instantly tearing up again, despite stopping his crying like.. 6 minutes ago? Oh. Oh GOD. Why is his husband such a good person? This is.. beyond evil. He doesn't deserve this. He doesn't deserve Satoru. He doesn't deserve this beautiful himbo of a man. He's an evil, evil man, and this beautiful man just is so precious to him. He's gonna die. He nods quick, choking back on his tears before smashing his face back into that warm chest, shoulders trembling like he's about to split OPEN. Today is a very confusing day for poor Suguru, his emotions were on the spectrum from horny slut —> depressed. He doesn't like it and doesn't wanna talk about it anymore.

"..Jus' wanna cuddle. I don't wanna talk about it anymore." He murmurs, hoping Satoru will understand. They've been married for 6 years, pretty sure that's a good enough cue to know someone inside out. And right now, if Suguru keeps talking about it, he'll lose it. Sure, it is good to talk things out, but for someone like Suguru? Sometimes he just needs to be held. Or fucked. It's a valid distraction! Both is fine. And that's completely okay.

Satoru nods, giving a small smile. He understands the cue to shut the fuck up about mental health.

"That's okay, baby. We don't have to talk about it right now. Say.. how about I go get dressed, ya know, I kinda am dirty. I can put on my PJ'S, and watch that little documentary you like in the living room. Does that sound good? You can go get us some snacks if you want to as-well, but if not? That's cool too. I'm just gonna shower before anything."

Suguru kind of isn't listening. All he hears is blah blah, proper name, place name, backstory stuff… well, through the tears in his eyes, he needs SOMETHING to make him feel better.

But he gets the memo. Okay. Snacks. Movie. Shower. Simple enough. He'll wait until Satoru goes to the bathroom before he gets up, because he.. doesn't want Satoru to see his outfit. After that little episode of his body, he's still feeling a bit insecure and doesn't want to show Satoru this robe that hugs his curves or anything like that. He's scared he won't like it. He nods, kissing Satoru's cheek.

"Yeah. You smell like shit, go shower." Suguru teases, unable to resist flicking Satoru in the nose. He smiles when Satoru pouts, reluctantly letting go of Suguru, not without a small grab of his ass. He grins mischievously, standing up quickly out of the bed, patting Suguru's head before walking to the bathroom. He leaves it wide open anyway. Suguru doesn't even complain this time.

Suguru smiles, before taking a few minutes to get up. Wow. He doesn't feel so.. disgusting. He feels better. Much better. Just avoid the mirror for now, though.

It doesn't dawn on Suguru that Satoru showers quickly, and most likely see him in the kitchen with a little robe on. And will like it. But Suguru does not know this yet, so.. yeah. The robe is cute, it's simple, lightweight silk with a ribbon to tie around the waist and make a little bow. It's short, only up to mid-thigh, no flashy fur or anything. It has a pocket on the pec, and has mid-length sleeves, perfect for fall or spring. Not too hot or cold. Suguru's wearing just some underwear he got, not really bothering to wear pants around the house. He's a grown man, and will just wear black Calvin Klein boxers with his robe. And some white crew socks. He doesn't like to walk around the house without socks, it feels dirty, even if he overheats. He doesn't care.

Suguru pads over in the hallway, mid-step, he pauses and yawns. He stretches his arms over his head, squeezing his eyes shut. Hmm.. sleepy. But also so awake now that Satoru's home. Suguru really doesn't know how to regulate himself, so it's a mix of super big highs and super big lows. He isn't sure if he should check that out or what? (Yes. Yes, Suguru. You should.) But at the same time, it's not like he loses sleep over it. (He does. That's a lie.) AND it's not like it's hurting everyone around him and himself anyway, right? (…)

… Okay!

Next topic, snacks? Satoru asked for snacks, huh? Okay. That's fine.

He steps foot into the kitchen, stilling instantly when he sees the flowers on the table, blinking slow. Huh? When did Satoru get him flowers? He walks over the table, eyes flicking over every single flower that's in the vase. There's so many daisies compared to the rest.. Satoru remembered. He put them at a perfect ratio the way he likes, he set them up all scattered so they don't look clumped all in one. He doesn't like when they're clumped in one.

His daisies..

He strokes his fingers over the flowers gently, giving a small, exhausted smile. His husband is so sweet. He didn't have to get him flowers.. after a hard few days of missions, he still went out of his way to do all of this? For him? Suguru stares at the flowers for a few more minutes, before closing his eyes and standing up straight. He will cherish these, dry these and make them useful. Maybe he can put them in the bath or just.. keep them around.

He doesn't deserve flowers.

He walks around the kitchen, and flaps his arms mindlessly a little bit as he's looking for some things he think Satoru would like, like maybe the slice of cake in their fridge. Suguru is so proud of himself right now, he really got this slice of cake today because he ordered it from Satoru's favorite bakery! It's a sweet cake, vanilla, with a lot of icing with some strawberries cut up on the edges of the cake, along with the intricate designs that the person did. Along with the vanilla cake, Suguru asked for a few pieces of Satoru's favorite dessert. Kikufuku. It's a a random pairing, but it's two desserts that Satoru loves. So in his eyes, that's a win. And also, Satoru is like an endless vacuum cleaner who will eat anything and everything.

He takes the plate out, and puts it along with a few other cute snacks he got. He puts some of those small cake squares (which the author just realized are called petit fours), some popcorn, chips bags..? He doesn't know. He knows Satoru will eat anything he gives him, he smiles at that. He leans over the counter, just for a moment, stretching, and wondering what else he could make for Satoru. Maybe some candy? Maybe some strawberries? Or what about some other fruits? He spaces out for a while, thinking about other various fruits or things to put on the little plate, without the idea that his husband might be done with his shower already.

He would have never guessed that someone is staring at him from across the kitchen, mouth open and in some trance.

All Satoru sees right now is "eat me" in big bold letters, right above Suguru, pointing above his head. He just stares at this absolute beauty in front of him, the hips, the robe HE got him. Satoru's hair is still a bit damp from his shower, clothes clinging slightly. He's wearing a oversized, white stupid t-shirt with Charmander saying "that's fire". (It's stupid, he knows). He's wearing some shorts too, just plain black and to his knees. He slowly creeps behind Suguru, staring him down like a cat stalking a very interesting mouse. His hand slowly goes behind himself, preparing to smack from behind. What? It really is the husband tax. He has too. He might get slapped in the hand, though.

"Satoru."

Huh?!

"You aren't slick. Put that hand away."

"But, SUGURU–!"

"I'm going to slap you to the ground. "

Suguru deadpans, turning around fully with all the snacks in his hands, holding everything on a plate. Oh, those beautiful eyes of Satoru.. bare, no blindfold in sight. It's mesmerizing, really. He looks at Satoru, blinking mindlessly, not really realizing the beautiful little outfit he has on. The thing he noticed first was Satoru's eyes, how they look at him, how beautiful and stupid and wet they are. He didn't even remember wearing it, or remember his little breakdown. But that's only temporary, don't worry. It'll all come back to him once Satoru opens his mouth.

Suguru raises one brow. Why is he staring at me like that? He puts the snacks in Satoru's hands, nudging to their living room. He's wondering if they're gonna leave soon to watch the movie, but Satoru is just staring at him with the most lovesick, softest look you could imagine. He's never seen it on anyone else but Satoru before. Never. Not even the most romantic men on television could compare to the way his husband gazes at him, whether he's all dolled up in a suit, whether he's in his pajamas with holes in them, whether he's naked, no matter what form he's in, he's always looked at as if he was beautiful. He doesn't think he's beautiful, he doesn't know how Satoru believes so.

"You got me flowers."

Satoru doesn't really answer him, except for a muffled hmm, walking behind and mindlessly following Suguru into the living room. His brain is nowhere except for Suguru, how he looks in that robe. Oh my God. He's beautiful. He's genuinely never seen a man so beautiful, how could he have gotten so lucky? Yeah– of course he got Suguru flowers! Why wouldn't he? He isn't insane, any normal husband would get an ethereal creature like Suguru flowers! He shouldn't be praised for doing the bare minimum, now he wishes that he bought the whole damn store.

"Um, Satoru..?"

Satoru blinks, caught off guard. Did he not respond? Shit. He was in dreamland. He did not answer his beautiful husbands question, or was it a question? More like a statement. Or a conversation starter. He doesn't know what you'd classify it as. But, shit, okay, he needs to stop talking to himself before he forgets to answer again.

"Yeah, 'course, baby. I'd get you 10 more bouquets if you'd let me. You know that. You got me dessert too, that was sweet of you, baby."

Satoru reached over Suguru, pressing a kiss to the side of his neck. He takes a piece of the sweet mochi from the plate in his own hands, popping it into his mouth. It's delicious, really, Suguru knows him inside out. He appreciates that sweet gesture, he loves sweet foods. He can eat them day and night, but Suguru says he should eat a balanced diet. He has no idea why Suguru is talking, because Suguru eats a bowl of rice and coffee, then goes to binge a bag of mochi, and says that he's fine. Thats not balanced. Balanced my ass.

Suguru looked over his shoulder, giving a shy smile. His eyes and nose crinkle as he smiles, almost like a beautiful fox, he shakes his head, fond of the taller man whose eyes fixate on him as if he was the only thing in the world worth looking at. He wonders why Satoru thinks he's so special. He doesn't think he is. He doesn't see it, he doesn't feel it. All he sees in the mirror is just someone unworthy.

"You're ridiculous, Satoru. You didn't need to get me flowers, you know. I just.. I just feel bad. You came back from a hard two days, and then you have to come home to.. me moping. Sometimes I feel as if I don't deserve the flowers. I just.. sat here all day, I didn't do anything. I just.."

Silence.

The sound of the snack plate being gently placed down onto the living rooms small coffee table cuts off Suguru's rambling. Satoru walks up closer to Suguru, lifting up his face with one hand covering his cheek. His expression is neutral now, studying Suguru head to toe, those eyes sharper than usual and almost.. exasperated. The look of what are you even saying right now? That means Satoru doesn't like what he's hearing, and usually he would make a whole entire dramatic show about how Suguru needs to stop putting himself down, but not now. Right now, he's silently listening and looking him in the eye until the silence fills the room, making Suguru get the memo to stop.

"Suguru."

Suguru blinks, like a deer caught in headlights. What did he just say? Oh my dear. He's currently feeling like he's shrinking in size minute by minute. Every second feels agonizing, those beautiful eyes suddenly feel as if they're burning into his soul. He's bad, huh? He did bad. He's terrible. He upset Satoru because all he can do is ramble, and- and Satoru will want to divorce him. Oh my god. He's going to kill himself. Why? Why did he have to open his stupid mouth and just- ruin everything? They could've had a good night.. they could have, now he'll have to deal with a tense night and—

..

His body suddenly feels lighter. Satoru's hand slips under his robe to rub at his lower back, other hand still cradling his cheek, rubbing a thumb over the scarred skin. A press of warmth hits his lips, soft and gentle, unlike anything he would've expected right now. He was expecting a lecture, maybe a joke, anything but a kiss. He would think that he doesn't deserve a kiss, but you know, how could deny Satoru one? He slowly closes his eyes, lips parting just a little bit to deepen the kiss, own stiff arms beginning to wrap around Satoru's waist.

It was exploring at first, just a few soft pecks against soft lips, before he finds himself being gently placed on the couch, pressed up against the soft cushions before those greedy hands touch him. Touch him like he's been internally begging for, touch him like he deserved these past few days. The hand on Satoru's back slides up to hold the back of his skull, cradling it as if it was made out of glass. His other hand slides down from his face, gliding down his side and stopping at the curve on his hip. Satoru's hand squeezes gently, hands full of Suguru's muscle and fat that rests on top of the thigh, greedy for it.

Satoru looks at Suguru like he's a meal. A tasty one at that, one that he's been wanting forever to just devour whole. He looks at his eyes, breath slow and steady for now, pressing his forehead against Suguru's. He's never seen anyone this beautiful, never in his 35 years of living would he imagine Suguru to be under him, to be looking at him like that with those amber eyes. Out of all lifetimes, this is his favorite, because Suguru is all his in this one. No one else. All his. He usually lets Suguru take control most, because that's how they roll. Whether it's Suguru getting on top and taking what he wants, or Satoru really just whining for Suguru to have him. He's a submissive guy in the bedroom, what can he say?

He presses slow kisses down Suguru now, hand scratching lightly at Suguru's skull to soothe him, to not overwhelm him. He knows his Suguru, he knows he can get overwhelmed easily. He doesn't want that right now, all he wants is for his Suguru to feel good, to service, to feel wanted and to feel like he's deserving of his love. His lips trail down his chin, pressing kisses to his jawline and petting gently at Suguru's head. His lips rest at Suguru's jaw, before he hums against skin, whispering now.

"Su'.. baby, are you okay with this? Do you want me, my love? Is this okay?"

"Satoru.." It was a small, shaky voice, something rare. Suguru hated begging, but if he wanted something real bad, he was gonna get it. And that means begging as well. He wants it so bad, he's never wanted Satoru more than now.

"Okay, Guru- yeah, s'okay, baby. I got you. My beautiful boy, I know you don't feel like you are most the time.. but I can assure you, God's, you're beautiful. Beautiful and all mine. I'll make you feel so good, yeah? Just me, no one else. Just us."

"Want you.. Satoru, stop teasing me.."

"I know. I know. You can have me, baby. You wanna stay here? Hm? S'nice and cozy here.. can feel the fireplace and it's not too light. But if you wanna go to the room, I can bring you there. It's up to you, Su. It's your time tonight."

Suguru groaned, rutting up into Satoru, which gave him a soft laugh in response. His hands fisted into Satoru's stupid shirt, almost tearing it off of his body in desperation for it off. He didn't really know or care where Satoru wanted to go, all he knows is that he wants to get fucked right now. Something. He doesn't know what's come over him, but it's something hot and white shooting down his spine and crashing through him whenever Satoru breathes near him. It's a weird mix of melancholy and horny, a combination that isn't rare nowadays.

Most of the time, he takes control whenever they have sex. Whether he tops or bottoms, he guides Satoru what to do, he's just like that. He's always enjoyed having control over things, and Satoru enjoys it like that too. It's just the way they work as a couple, honestly.

But not tonight. HELL no. He isn't doing shit. Or that is until he's gotten impatient and got blue-balled. He only has so much patience when it comes to Satoru's teasing. He most likely will end up being the one in control anyway.

Suguru is in a haze of desperation, such a craving for his husband that he wants Satoru to just take over and do whatever he wants to him. Really. He doesn't want ANY ounce of control right now, actually. He just wants to be taken care of, ruined, finish multiple times, cuddle, then pass out. That'd be nice. He feels very guilty deep somewhere in his head, that he doesn't deserve to have multiple orgasms or feel good during sex, that he's the one to be giving pleasure. But right now, that self deprecating stuff can wait, because he really does want to get it on right now.

"Sweetheart, angel— I'm.. I really don't care. You- I- we can just go wherever. We can stay here, it's warm. Wherever you wanna go is fine, I-I just— want you. Please. I don't even wanna do anything right now, I'm so- hm.." Suguru mumbled, leaning his head back to look at Satoru's desperate gaze, full of love and the eagerness to please. Like he just wants to eat Suguru up, wants to make him feel good.

Satoru nods, pressing a slow kiss to Suguru's throat, going back up again with a lighter trail of kisses to his lips. He lets it linger, hand coming from his hip and cradling Suguru's face, stroking his cheek with reverence. He looks into Suguru's eyes, smiling softly at the man under him. He's beautiful, Satoru thinks to himself everyday. Especially now, when he's all flushed, grinding against him and vulnerable, just for his eyes. Just for him to see, no one else. Never. His lips press harder against Suguru's, tongue only gently pressing against Suguru's mouth if he wants to part his lips for him.

Suguru sighed into the kiss, parting his lips for Satoru's tongue to explore his mouth. Suguru's hands, just as greedy as Satoru's, beginning to pull off Satoru's stupid shirt, nearly ripping it off of him in desperation, closing his eyes and letting his tongue brush against Satoru's. Satoru's hand on Suguru's head squeezes gently, massaging his nape and tangling gently in long hair. Satoru's eyes close, just tasting what he's been missing for two days. Two whole days.

That doesn't seem a whole lot to an average person, right? Well, if your husband abandoned you for ten years and you got him back even more beautiful after all that time, you wouldn't last two days without him either. Don't judge them.

Suguru's hips roll up into Satoru's, desperate for any kind of friction. He wants it, he wants it so bad. Satoru makes a soft hum, letting go of the kiss only to begin shifting, sitting in between Suguru's thighs, on his knees, his hands moving down slowly to rest at his thighs. He looks down at Suguru, just watching him. Watching how impatient he looks, watching the small tremble in his lip and the twitch of his left eye. Satoru smiles, leaning down to kiss Suguru's forehead, hands running up and down Suguru's thighs. He traces the tattoo on his upper right thigh, feeling the scars along it, feeling the mole on his inner left thigh. He traces every part of Suguru's thighs with his fingers, feeling what he's been missing for what felt like an eternity.

"Suguru.. did you wear this for me, baby? So pretty on you.. look at you.." He whispered, voice shaky, so in love. He loves this outfit. He also would have never guessed earlier that his angel of a husband hates the way it looks on him. He believes Suguru is the prettiest man to walk the planet. He doesn't know what's coming.

He got it for Suguru because he noticed he was eyeing it a few years ago at a store, and he knows Suguru wouldn't ever genuinely ask for anything nice for himself. Of course he wouldn't. So, Satoru brought it upon himself to buy it for Suguru as a gift, he remembers that. He remember how it hugged his ass, his arms.. god, he looks like a dream. And he knows Suguru has a lot of sensory issues when it comes to clothing, so he ripped the tags off and made sure the material was just the way he liked. He'd never give Suguru some trashy, itchy material. No way!

Suguru blinks, caught off guard by the sudden question, not really realizing he's wearing that robe. He blanks out for a second, raising one eyebrow at Satoru, as if he's asking what are you talking about?

What am I.. huh?

Then he realizes.

Oh..

That robe. That robe that he completely broke down about in the mirror, that his grotesque body ruined. That robe that Satoru spent his money on and he ruined, that robe that's his favorite. Yet he ruined it. He looks down at his body, seeing how his tummy only slightly bulges the robe, how his thighs don't look as lean as they used to. How he looks ugly, gross, not worthy of looking at. Yet he tries not to make a face, he tries not to bring his hatred for his body into this soft moment they're having. He can't ruin that too, can he? He can't let Satoru know how much he genuinely can't stand himself, how he looked in the mirror this evening and broke.

"Oh.. um, yeah. I just– um, I thought you'd like it. I didn't really put any thought into it, but um, yeah!" Suguru croaks out, voice cracking in a way that basically screams I'M A LIAR! He blinks, internally cursing himself for being such an obvious liar, how he's probably ruined their night. Maybe Satoru should've stayed at the mission to stay far away from someone like him, maybe he should just curl up and die.

Jeez. Talk about over dramatic, Suguru.. hello?

Satoru pauses, noticing, then getting very confused by that sudden mood change. What just happened here? Did he say something wrong? He literally just brought up Suguru's outfit.

"Suguru..?"

Satoru's brow furrows, hand pausing at Suguru's belly which was rubbing small circles over. He blinks, trying to read Suguru, why is he acting so strange? He's lying to me for no reason whatsoever, he could've just.. said the truth that he wore it because it was comfortable. He was joking about wearing it for him! He isn't a jerk!

"I mean– yeah, um.."

"Suguru, why are you lying? What's going on here? Baby, I was just playing, I know you didn't just wear that for me, you know that, yeah?" Satoru persisted, trying to force a patient smile, sitting up straight with his lips curling downward now, hands resting on his own thighs. He looks Suguru up and down, all he sees is a beautiful man laid across the couch, except something melancholic in his eye. He doesn't understand. His husband is acting strange right now.

He doesn't like that. He doesn't like any bit of change, actually.

"N-No, I'm- wait.." Suguru stammers, shaky hand reaching out to hold Satoru's hand, desperately looking up at him for some type of save. He doesn't mean to strike up miscommunication, he just can't get the words out. He feels as if he tries to say what's bothering him, he's just gonna.. ruin everything.

He feels like maybe he should've just pretended he was okay better, or maybe said he was tired and to sleep off his issues. That's the problem with being a changed person, he feels like he can't lie anymore, he can't just suck up his feelings anymore. Satoru makes them talk it out, even if they both don't want to. He blinks, lip wobbling, he looks pathetic. Like he's gonna cry over and over until there's nothing left.

"It's stupid. I'm sorry, I just- you did nothing wrong, Satoru. It's me, I'm sorry." He mumbles now, squeezing Satoru's hand, a silent plea to stay. His eyes glass over, about to curl into himself, shoulders trembling as he just thinks to himself OVER and over how he just keeps FUCKING everything up. His body no longer seems absent to him now, just something not worthy again. Just something to throw away. Something that deserves to rot.

Maybe he deserves to get punched in the face for this, possibly thrown onto the ground to knock some sense into him – or better yet, maybe Satoru should divorce him and never look back. Maybe Satoru could get with someone better, someone who doesn't look like this, or someone who doesn't act like him. Satoru deserves better than whatever he is.

"Suguru, what? Baby, shit- why are you crying? Oh, come here.. don't apologize, love.. heyheyhey.." Satoru whispers, stopping all sexual touches or teasing, putting both arms around Suguru, resting at his back and lifting him up from laying down position. He gathers Suguru up in his arms, hushing the precious, teary-eyed man in his arms. Satoru really has no idea what's happening right now, all that's ringing in his head is that Suguru is crying and he has no idea why. Mood changes are very confusing for Satoru, especially when they're this sudden. But he's grown accustomed to them, especially with Suguru's mood swings, his mental problems don't phase him like they used to because he knows how to handle them. He feels Suguru begin to tremble, his sobs getting more intense and guilty when he burrows his head into Satoru's neck. His hands tremble when they fist into Satoru's white undershirt, holding on for dear life. Suguru feels pathetic.

"I-I'm- I didn't mean to ruin our night.. I- I just– hn.." Suguru hiccups, shoulders trembling and a quiet sob ripping out of him suddenly. It's followed by him hiding his face, utterly humiliated by his cries, not meaning to show this side of himself. He should've just pretended he was okay. He knows it must be annoying to persist dealing with his mood swings, with him in general.

Tears go down Suguru's face, the salt on his cheeks burning as they trail down his lips. There's so much of it, so much, it continuously pours like small water fountains in his eyes, he feels disgusting. He feels terrible in his own skin, he can't get out, he doesn't know why he's crying. He really has some deep self hatred even after all these years, despite the countless therapies and Satoru. It just lingers constantly, some days worse than others.

"Suguru, baby, no.. you never ruin my night. You hear me?" Satoru whispered fiercely into Suguru's ear, one hand coming to cradle his skull, Suguru's favorite spot to be held. He holds Suguru close in his lap, arms wrapped around him and squeezing him so tight he thinks Suguru might pop like a water balloon.

"Suguru.. my love, tell me what's wrong? Please, let me help you, talk to me.. c'mon, love. I'm not gonna be mad at you, I promise. I'll never be mad at you for letting your feelings out."

"I'm so hideous, Satoru.."

A long pause is beginning to stretch between the two men. The silence itself is soul-sucking, and now both of them are just staring at each other. Suguru currently wishes he is dead, and that he did NOT open his mouth. Why did he even say anything? He should have lied and said he was just tired. He should've said he spaced out. He could've said ANYTHING but the truth and it would have been done and over with.

Satoru really doesn't know what to say to that statement either, he just blankly stares at his husband. Is he joking right now? He doesn't comprehend at first, he thinks maybe at first Suguru was talking about his personality, how his personality was hideous and how he'd never change. That makes Satoru confused, because, well.. Suguru never really cared about that stuff to begin with. He didn't, but there's something in Suguru's voice that's different than all the other times he hates himself. Is this not a metaphor? Is this truly about his looks? His Suguru? Ugly?

He almost laughs at what Suguru said, until he realized he was being serious. He really almost cackled at the idea of Suguru Geto being ugly.

But he doesn't. Not when Suguru is crying in his arms over some bullshit, not when he's shaking and apologizing for something he didn't do wrong. Not when his Suguru is doubting his own beauty, not when his Suguru is terrified of himself. Satoru stays quiet, just holding Suguru and rubbing his back over the robe. He doesn't really understand how Suguru could ever think he's ugly now, he's never had issues with his body or face. What could be driving him to this? Did someone say anything cruel? He'll disintegrate anyone.

Satoru takes a deep breath, and oh boy. It takes everything in him not to crash out. This is going to be a long night. Not like there's a problem with that, he just feels bad for his Suguru.

"Suguru.. what do you mean? You're beautiful, baby, I don't understand.. did someone say something to you? I don't– where is this all coming from?" Satoru questioned, keeping his voice low and looking into Suguru's eyes. His gaze never wavers away or turns angry, just full of concern and so much love for the man in his lap. He's scared, worried that Suguru is going through something he never heard about, something he never even thought would've crossed Suguru's mind in one million years. Ugly? How?

While Suguru's brows are furrowing, his lip trembled and a big tear went down his face, nose stuffed and running from all his crying. He tries to talk, but it all just comes out as a blob of crying and snot. That frustrates him more. He tries again.

"No! I- you don't get it, Satoru. I'm not something people enjoy looking at anymore, I'm just- here..! Have you seen my arms? They're so– I don't know, so gross and scarred and.. gods, my stomach, and my stupid eyes, and my hair is so thin now, my legs are so weak and- and everything about me is just.. so ugly now. I don't even know how you look at me anymore, or how I can look into the mirrors around our home. I feel disgraceful for your eyes most times, and.. I just- I don't.. I don't like how I look anymore.." Suguru fretted, his words crumbling together and his voice wavering. He's rambling, rambling on about how ugly he is. Except no one but him thinks that.

It honesty on Suguru's part, but it hurt nonetheless to hear. The silence filled the room again, but this time, it was ugly. Something that just creeps into Satoru's mind, picking his brain, shouting to fix everything. How could Suguru say he's ugly? His Suguru, who he spends nights gazing at? Ugly? Gross? What the fuck was he even talking about?! Not something that people look forward to look at?? What?

Satoru stays dead silent, just staring at his husband. His blood inside is boiling, wanting to grab Suguru by the face and shake him into consciousness! Make him snap out of whatever nonsense he's spewing, because he's never heard such amount of ridiculousness in his 35 years of living! He really is about to do this, to try and snap Suguru out of it, but..

He notices the sadness in his poor husband's eyes, he's so tired. He looks so beaten up and down all because of those thoughts in his head. He really thinks this. He really thinks that he's disgusting, that his beautiful body is disgusting? Disgraceful? He can't even think in a million YEARS that he would call Suguru's body, a temple, something holy any of those disgusting words. He worships them to the fullest, he will get on his KNEES right now just to prove how beautiful Suguru is. He can't just stand here and let him speak about himself like that.

Satoru doesn't get angry at him. That'd be the worst thing to do in a scenario like this. Satoru sighs, exasperation hidden as fondness for his lover. Internally, he's angry and sad that Suguru even thinks this way, but externally, he keeps all of that inside. He wouldn't want Suguru to feel worse about himself than he already does. Suguru doesn't need that negativity in his life.

"Suguru, baby, I-I.." Satoru muttered softly as a whisper, trailing off his words because he doesn't even know what to say. "My beautiful, breathtaking man, how could you ever even think those things about yourself? Do you even have eyes?" It comes out a bit more condescending than he intended. Shit. He feels like an asshole. But at the same time, he doesn't really care. Suguru doesn't need to speak down upon himself like that, it's just not right. It wasn't really condescending, it was just real and Satoru overthinks what he says.

Suguru blinks, caught off guard, but he doesn't make a face that shows he's upset about anything. He's listening, looking into Satoru's eyes, wanting to hear him. He needs this type of reassurance, a lot. But he doesn't know how to properly ask for it. He just usually.. zones out and self deprecates. He would never in his righteous mind ask Satoru for his help, or to call him good or beautiful or anything that he's deserving of. Suguru stammered over his words, attempting to get in a word, try to explain himself.

"I'm- I just– it's nothing, I'm sorry, you're right. Its stupid, maybe we should just go to bed–"

"Suguru.." Satoru warned, an eyebrow raising and his patience giving a waver. It's not either of their faults, but Satoru is tired from his mission and very confused right now. He wants an explanation as soon as possible, they're both tired and irritable. They should probably talk this out before it escalates into a dumb fight about Suguru being ugly.

"I'm sorry.."

Satoru frowned, looking down at his husband's hair. He presses a kiss to the top of his head, arms still wrapped around him, rubbing slow circles into his back. He takes another deep breath, his chest rising and falling slowly, making Suguru's head move a little bit. He presses his head into Satoru's chest, other hand going to rub at his scalp.

"It's okay, love. There's nothing to apologize for, you have feelings. That's okay. Just– I– I don't understand.. how long have you been feeling like this? Why didn't you mention this to me?"

Suguru thought on those questions, his eyes darting down to his lap. He curls up tight, hiding his face yet again into the crook of Satoru's neck. I mean, it is a hard situation. How do you just casually tell your husband of many years that you still hate yourself? And your body that he worships everyday? Would he be angry that Suguru has felt this way for so long, or would he be understanding? How he just wishes sometimes Satoru came to his senses a better man, looks wise and personality wise? How sometimes he feels like he should just fucking run away and never come back?

"I.."

He chokes over his words, again and again, trying to tell Satoru how he feels. It isn't as easy as it looks, could you blame the poor man? He's just had such a wave of emotions, seriously, he was about to get fucked into oblivion and now he's crying in his husbands arms over some bullshit. This isn't fair. He wanted to get dicked down, not a therapy session! He isn't good with feelings, everyone.

"I'm sorry, it's.. I've been hiding it for- I don't even know. It's been a long time, you know- since I've been feeling like this. And- it's- I mean- I just never brought it up to you, I'm sorry. I know, I know I'm- I'm sorry, I'm stupid for not.. you know."

Satoru really hates that. Hates that Suguru always dismisses himself. In their marriage, it's always been a bad habit of his, but.. this is a lot to handle. It's not like he wouldn't do anything for Suguru, but what? What does he even mean? Has he looked in the mirror a day in his life and seen how beautiful he is? But something that irks Satoru is when Suguru speaks so negatively and so cruelly about himself, as if he isn't the same one he spends nights kissing his stomach because it hurts. As if that's not the same Suguru he's loved for more than half of his life, the same one who's been there for him when he had brain issues and bad days with his memory.

"Stupid?" Satoru whispers, brows furrowing, hands gripping Suguru tight. "What do you mean, stupid? Come on, Su. You know I don't like when you talk like that." He caresses Suguru's head, thumb stroking it, speaking gently but also, at the same time, showing he's serious about this. He does want Suguru to talk to him, he does. But he has trouble hearing that Suguru's thoughts are so terrible to himself. He can't stand it, that's his life. His whole entire life in his lap.

Suguru's gaze turns downcast, heart sinking further. He feels guilty now. For speaking up. Why did he even say anything? He shouldn't have talked.

Satoru pauses. He thinks for a moment, was that not the right thing to say? Shit, Shit, shit. Okay. Um.. he didn't realize that sounded like he was dismissing Suguru. Okay. Wow. How is he gonna come back from that? Oh no. That was the last thing he wanted to do! It didn't even sound like he was dismissing Suguru, but you can never be too guilty, am I right?

"Wait, no. Su.. I meant- fuck-"

"It's okay, I–"

"It's not." His voice wobbles, hands snaking down to hold Suguru's. "I'm sorry, baby. I know that all these thoughts in your head are uncontrollable. It's not your fault, but it just hurts to hear you talk like that. I love you so much, Suguru, I don't see you how you see yourself. I see you so much more than that. I.. Suguru, you're so beautiful."

"But.."

Satoru shook his head no, kissing Suguru's forehead. He lets the love linger on his husband's forehead, resting his cheek on top of his head. They stay silent for a while, curled up on the couch, blankets nearby. The fireplace on, so cozy, so them.

"You're beautiful, Suguru."

Suguru looks up at him, giving a small, weak smile. He loves Satoru and his reassurance, but he kind of wants to wreck him now. His mood changes quick. But, since the serious discussion started, he must go on. He can't keep dismissing his feelings. That's not going to help with their relationship whatsoever, so why continue doing something harmful when he can communicate?

"It's.. okay. It sounds stupid, but.. it's the robe." He admits, voice small, careful.

Satoru raises one brow. Huh? He thought Suguru loved that one. That doesn't seem like a big problem at all, his Suguru never cries over some stupid robe..? Is it really that uncomfortable? Why wouldn't Suguru tell him? He has a warranty.. it's just clothes. Wait, huh? Why would he feel guilty about a robe?

"The.. robe? What about it, baby? Do you.. not like it anymore? I mean, it has a warranty. I can return it if you want and get you a–"

"No! No, no, you- um.. god. Satoru, silly.. it's not the robe itself. It.. it's super comfy, I love this robe. It's just.. me. I feel like.. recently, I've just looked wrong. You know?"

"I really don't know, honey. You look breathtaking."

"No, I mean- um.. hm-.. Satoru.."

Suguru stammers, before sighing softly and leaning farther into that scalp massage that Satoru probably has been doing to calm him. And hell, it's working. Absolute euphoria. His husband's fingernails scritch just right at the top of his head, making him cut off his speaking, kind of forgetting what he's talking about. He enjoys that a lot. A bit too much.

Satoru stays quiet and focused, continuously rubbing his lovers scalp, paying attention to every little detail on Suguru. How much he likes his hair played with, his head rubbed, scalp scratched.. it's so cute. He wonders why Suguru thinks he's so ugly.. when he looks like this. So beautiful. His everything. He wishes he can pick apart his Suguru's brain, see what he sees. Maybe then he can understand how to get these cruel thoughts out of his head.

"Suguru.. I don't know what your mind sees. I don't. But I know that you're the most beautiful man that I've seen before. I promise you, baby.. if this has anything to do with me thinking you're not lovable? Because of your looks? No. Nope. Not acceptable. You know how much I love you.. your body and your personality, everything about you. How you act in the mornings, how you look dressed up, how you look comfy, when you're sad, any time of day. I love every tiny piece about you. I promise. I can't imagine any time where I think you look ugly, baby.."

Suguru's eyes close, threatening to fill with tears. Oh, Satoru.. he's so sweet. That was so- that was so safe. Safe, yeah. That explains it best.. safe. His safe place. His person who puts him into consciousness, how he brings him back to himself.

Suguru's lip wobbles, eyes shiny, opening to gaze up at Satoru. He's speechless, unable to properly express his feelings. Just how grateful he was to have a man like Satoru, and oh.. how he needed the reassurance. How he needed to be loved and cradled in someone's arms, someone to just hold him and scratch at his head. Satoru's hand dips to behind Suguru's ears, rubbing his thumb gently against the An Mian point, which is the pressure point right behind the ear. Suguru relaxes, shoulders not so stiff as he gets all soft and pliant in Satoru's arm. That's nice. He really likes this.

"Mmh.. more.." He whispers, voice placid, lips parted ever so slightly.

"More, huh?" Satoru cooed, a teasing glinting in his voice as he continues to stroke Suguru's hair, other hand scratching behind his ear. He rocks them both side by side on the couch, body moving in gentle sways back and forth. He smiles against Suguru's head as it bows back down into his collarbones, relaxed and so trusting. His baby.

"Hgnn.. shut up, Satoru. You don't.. I'm.. stop fucking with me. Just keep doing it."

Satoru snickered, eyes crinkling at the corners when he hears Suguru's snappy response. He loves when Suguru has a bit of attitude, enjoys when he tells him what he wants. He loves his men a little feisty (or maybe a lot). But right now, Satoru is pushing his buttons. Hard.

"Easy, babe. Don't bite the hand that feeds you."

"I feed you. Your lousy ass doesn't cook, you burned the kitchen down when you tried to make me soup. Don't be an idiot, Satoru— HEY!"

Satoru pouts, dramatic and playful, hand that's smoothing Suguru's hair back suddenly messes it all up. He grins, pulling back to look into this eyes, snowy lashes framing his face. His eyes are locked into Suguru's red-rimmed ones, lashes wet and right eye giving occasional twitches. The Amber irises are the most beautiful thing Satoru's ever seen, no matter how many times he wakes up to them everyday. He still acts surprised, being blessed everyday with seeing Suguru warm in his arms.

"Suuuuguruuuuu…. What's wrong? Huh? Precious hair got all messed up, pretty baby? C'mon, I see that smile of yours." His hand comes off of Suguru's pressure point, running both hands through long hair and messing it up. His voice is teasing, so cocky for no reason. A brat, really. He doesn't understand his husband's whole ordeal, able to act like a brat right after being the most warm man to exist.

Suguru squints his eyes. Hm.

Something that Suguru loves? Well, simple. It's dealing with a brat. A big brat, especially. Putting one in their place. See, Suguru has his submissive moments, take for example earlier. But he was blinded by an intense want and over exaggerated emotions for Satoru. Of course, he still is wanting him, but now he is more in control of himself. More aware of what he's doing, a clear mind where he isn't thinking of having Satoru fuck him into pieces.

Suguru raises one brow, which he trims and shapes himself, eyes flicking up and down Satoru's face once or twice. A mock look that deems no playing around. The look that says, "is that so?" with his eyes. He smirks briefly, suddenly seeming.. empowered. Comfortable in his skin, confident and sexy. His mind drifts from how his physical appearance seems to him, and he imagines himself like Satoru describes him.

Beautiful. Angelic. Something special.

Finally. A mood shift. No more depressing stuff.

A heat sparks up between them again, all melancholy of their night spilling into the cracks of the darkness, no longer to be seen anymore. Something that gets replaced with it, injecting into the room of where they're in, is all warmth and sexual energy. It's imagined as bright, charged and spurting everywhere, into both of their brains. Satoru's eyes go wide, face flushing quickly when Suguru grabs Satoru's wrists and pins them above his head. He holds them tight, though his hands are a bit smaller, they're powerful. Able to hold down the strongest with treasuring his vulnerability and with using his strength. He straddles on top of him, thighs caging Satoru in and nearly crushing the man.

"Do you think it's funny, Satoru?" Was spoken in Satoru's ear with a low purr, hands tightening their grips on Satoru's wrists. Satoru squirms, face all red like a cherry, whimpering and cursing under his breath. He tries to grind up into Suguru, but he feels stuck, vulnerable and embarrassed that he got pinned down so quickly by someone he could technically destroy. He feels naked, how Suguru uses Satoru's vulnerability and letting his guard down to his advantage.

Satoru, unfortunately has zero control. He folds instantly, letting out a choked whine, turning his head to the side and avoiding eye contact at all costs. He gets shy almost instantly, as he's always melted under Suguru's gaze. He thought he was going to take control tonight, but guess not. Suguru barely even touched him and he's already aching for more. He playfully struggles against Suguru's grip, surprisingly is strong and unwavering. It seems like Suguru is serious. Well. He did seem like he wanted to eat me alive today before his thoughts spiraled..

Satoru thought that to himself, blinking rapidly, heart rate racing instantly when Suguru releases one of his hands to grip his chin, forcing Satoru to look.

"Look at me, sweetheart. C'mon, don't be so shy now after you were acting so above yourself earlier. Was it just you being pretentious? Did you just want to impress me?"

"No.." Satoru whispers with a trembling voice, big body giving a twitch under the slightest bit of pressure he gets when Suguru sits more firmly on his lap. He looks up at him, eyes nervously, big ego deflated almost immediately, heart pounding.

Overwhelming. Satoru can't tell if he likes it or not. He feels restrained, but not in the way he usually enjoys it.. he doesn't know how to feel. He likes it, but he doesn't like it, it's too much right now. Too overstimulating, a lot going on at the same time, maybe it needs to slow down.

His finger gives a small tap onto Suguru's, a sign that he doesn't want to be pinned by the arms anymore. Suguru doesn't say anything about it or give a strange look, instead instantly removes his arm and softens his gaze. He moves his hands to Satoru's chest, resting over his undershirt and gazing into his eyes. Suguru looks at him, tilting his head to make sure he didn't miss any non verbal cues from Satoru. Satoru doesn't give any indication for him to stop, he didn't use a verbal or non verbal safe word to stop. Satoru just nods, giving permission to continue.

"You sure, angel? We can stop if you need." Suguru whispers, cupping his cheek, eyes filled with worry. He would never want to go to far, no matter how soft they are nowadays, consent is important to them both.

"No.. m'okay. Promise."

Suguru nods, giving a small smile to Satoru, pressing a kiss to his forehead. He's still going to be alert at all times, but he knows Satoru would tell him if he didn't like something. He can trust his husband for that. For now, they'll continue having their fun, it's deserved after such a deep discussion. "Okay."

Suguru continues on, taking off Satoru's undershirt now, his chest all flushed and pink. Suguru smiles, already planning ahead of what he wants to do to this man. He's hungry. He's been starved of Satoru for days, and he wants it. Now. He doesn't want to be greedy, he doesn't want to be like some wild man who just attacks.. yet, that is all he becomes when he wants something. That's what his nature tells him, his instinct, to ravage and get on top and take what he wants. Like an animal.

Suguru flicks his eyes up and down Satoru's face, his own expression calm, controlled. That isn't what he's feeling internally, though. It's probably the opposite, lust and love swirling into big explosions in his brain, uncontrollable, irrational.

Satoru's hands shakily trail up Suguru's waist, giving a squeeze, he wants more. He wants more, but he's shy to ask, as he's gotten older, he has gotten more humble. Mainly because of Suguru's beauty, how Suguru looks so calm and stunning just sitting there – not even doing anything, it's incredible.

"Suguru.?"

Suguru looks down, eyes instantly snapping down. He hums in response, hands moving up Satoru's chest to his face, cradling warm and red cheeks in his fingers. So pretty, like a flower in his hands, his husband so sweet, just for him. He's so deeply in love.

"Hmm?"

"Wan' you. Wan' you bad, Suguru.. can I have you? Please?"

Suguru smiles, so warm, leaning down to press a kiss to Satoru's forehead. He nods, fingers squishing at his cheek.

"Of course, sweetheart. You don't have to ask me that, I've wanted you too, for so long. What do you want, hm? What do you want from me? Use your words."

"Hnn, Suguru – please.." He whines, hands trembling and lowering down to Suguru's ass, gripping like he is showing what he wants with his hands. He looks up with his desperate eyes, rutting his hips up into Suguru, clearly aching for his lover. His desperate, lovesick gaze tears through Suguru, almost puppy-dog-like. How could he ever say no to this man?

"Not good enough, baby. I don't know what that means. What do you want? C'mon. Tell me."

"Want you.. to jus' use me however you want, Su'. Please. I'm.. I don't care. Jus' wanna feel you bad. God, gorgeous, can't even go a few days without tasting you.." He mumbles against Suguru's lips, hands moving from his ass to his waist. Warmed hands and reddened knuckles tighten around it while he pleads with those eyes, so pathetic, so needy for Suguru. He kisses down Suguru's throat, continuing to make eye contact with his husband who he's so desperate for. "Please.. promise I'll be good. Promise."

Suguru grins, gentle but a wolfish hint in his eyes. He's a hungry guy. He's been waiting for this.

"Good boy. Such a good boy for telling me. I got you, love. Trust me, you'll go to good use." Suguru mumbles under his breath, laying Satoru down fully now on the couch, weight pressing his ass onto Satoru's bulge. He cups his cheek, a mischievous grin on his face as he climbs himself closer to Satoru's shoulder. He eventually starts to move up his chest.

Thighs eventually end up close to his head, calves curled on his knees, Satoru's arms curling around thighs to lock him in place. Eyes look up, a soft whimper escaping his lips as he gazes up at Suguru from above, who's straddling his shoulders. Soft black underwear are pressed against his nose, Suguru filling all 5 of his senses. His hands curl around Suguru's thighs, pressing a soft kiss to the bulge near his nose.

Suguru hums in approval, one hand guiding Satoru's head more into it, cupping the back of his head. He slowly brings his other hand down to move his underwear to the side. He frees himself, lips parting when his cock rests against Satoru's face. He plays with Satoru's short hair, tugging slowly and gently towards himself. Satoru immediately opens his mouth, eyes wide and eager, fingers digging into the warm flesh of Suguru's thighs.

Suguru lines himself up with Satoru's lips, gently rubbing his tip against his mouth, eyes half lidded and looking down at the eager man below him.

"Ready, Satoru? Is this okay?"

"Mm.. hmm.." Satoru nods, quickly agreeing and blinking up rapidly at his husband. His husband, in that robe that looks so beautiful and warm and who's straddling on his face. He could die here between Suguru's thighs and be very happy.

"Open." Suguru instructed, pressing the head against Satoru's lips, coaxing them open. Satoru instantly obeys, opening his mouth a little wider and closing against Suguru. He closes his eyes, white lashes fluttering as he suckles gently on Suguru. He tastes like home, like something he can suck on forever.

Satoru slowly begins to take more of Suguru into his mouth, head bobbing and tongue working overtime against the skin of Suguru's cock. His mouth, warm and tight swallows him down just right. Just enough to make Suguru melt into it.

"Ha–.. god, that's it. Just like that, sweetheart.." Suguru hissed under his breath, hand tightening in his hair, sinking deeper into his throat. He tips his head back, thrusting forward barely, the friction making him desperate, wanting to just pound Satoru's mouth. But he won't. Not when Satoru looks so pretty, sucking him with the most desperate attempt to be good. He's so good.

His cheeks are flushed, hollowing his cheeks when he takes more into his mouth, opening his eyes briefly to bare his desperate, soft gaze, almost like a dog who wants praise. Like someone who you'd call good for just existing – well, Suguru does that already. But when he's servicing, oh, he deserves it.

Suguru lets out a soft moan, a telltale sign that he's doing good, hips slowly moving against Satoru, hand in his hair petting slow circles into his scalp. His thighs give one tremble, but Satoru's greedy hands are grabbing fistful after fistful of thigh. His hands are tightly curled around Suguru's thighs, muffled voice around Suguru's warmth as he sucks, his bright eyes looking up at Suguru's face, wondering what he's thinking. Is he doing good? Does Suguru like it?

Suguru looks down at Satoru's face, flushed and cheeks full, his lips curling into the warmest smile you can imagine. His hand smooths Satoru's hair back, his own ears flushing. His heart flutters, not just from the head, but from how sweet his husband looks under him – it's like the view itself can make him bust all over.

"Oh, Satoru – so pretty, baby.. just like that. You're doing so good. My good boy, is this okay? Do you need a break?" Suguru asks, voice shaky from Satoru's warm mouth, but still trying to communicate through it.

Satoru shakes his head against Suguru, mumbling something incoherent before closing his mouth again, breathing through his nose and lapping up Suguru's precum. He takes Suguru deeper in his mouth, tasting the slight sweetness, his hands digging into Suguru's thighs because he just tastes so good. He takes him to the hilt, so grateful, so happy Suguru is using him for his pleasure.

"Oh– mm, Satoru.. greedy boy" He gasps, a whine escaping his lips when he bucks his hips involuntary against Satoru's mouth. "Baby– fuck, that's.."

His hand grabs a fistful of hair, closing his own eyes and throwing his own head back. He apologizes with his fingers petting over the hair he just grabbed, but he keeps it locked in his fist afterwards as he begins to slowly thrust into Satoru's mouth. It's too good. He's been wanting this for so long, but he's trying so hard to be patient and gentle. It is a very hard thing to do right now.

"So good.. gods, such a good boy, Satoru. So eager to please, hm? Thats right, sweetheart. Just like that. Ah-"

Satoru whimpers against Suguru's cock, making a small mmmf, mouth full and so desperate. So desperate to taste Suguru, so desperate to make him feel good, perhaps take off all the cruelly embedded thoughts in his head. Even if it's for a moment. It pops out of his mouth, he licks gently around the shaft before taking the tip into his mouth and sucking quicker, harder than before. His tongue swirls around the leaking tip, alternating between small licks and sucks.

"H-ha- oh God, Satoru– oh.. baby– fuck.. keep goin'.." Suguru whines, head tipping forward, hair framing both him and Satoru as it spills against them like a beautiful curtain of the dark night. His hips move slowly against Satoru's mouth again, thighs squeezing and his cock straining against Satoru's tongue, which is so greedy, so hungry.

Suguru looks down at him, eyes half-lidded, the view of Satoru under him undoing him more than any sensation. His hand cards through Satoru's hair, continuing to gently rock himself into Satoru's waiting mouth, seeing how love-struck he looks with those soft. Snow-kissed lashes are wet, gray now, framing his cheeks with long casting shadows. Satoru is so pretty, especially when his loud mouth is filled with something.

He feels himself getting close. It's almost pathetic how quickly he's gonna finish, just from his lovers mouth being on him. But truly, Satoru is just so pretty. So warm, so eager.

"S-Satoru- baby- I'm gonna- please- oh.." he chokes, his rocking getting faster, more urgent, the need to release his pent up energy crucial. He needs an orgasm as soon as possible. His hips move on their own accord, he whines, throwing his head back as his hair flows behind him, dark and pretty. He gasps, grabbing Satoru's hair, pulling him flush towards his public bone, holding him there. "Ah-!"

He thrusts a few more times, once, twice, before he moans louder than intended. He gets loud, especially when Satoru is just so pretty and pliant. He holds Satoru's head there, spilling into his mouth, making a sticky mess. Ropes shot out onto his tongue, hot and sweet, all his pent up frustration let out. He breathes, heavy, both hands fisted in short white hair, trembling thighs and hands slowly calming. He lets go of Satoru's hair, gently prying his mouth away from him, slipping out of the warmth. He misses it already.

It rests against Satoru's cheek, and oh, Satoru looks so dazed. His cheeks are flushed, pupils blown, already so fucked-out and desperate. His lip quivers, tears flooded in his eyes, hands grabbing fistful of Suguru's thighs, like an anchor. "Oh, that's it. So sweet for me, Satoru.. are you okay?"

"S'guru.."

"Come here, angel.." Suguru mumbles under his breath, thighs carefully shifting to not straddle Satoru's shoulders anymore. He's careful not to hurt him, shifting positions to sit Satoru up. He carefully cups his cheek, smiling, sitting on the other side of the couch. He opens his arms for Satoru to hide and nestle in.

Satoru climbs, climbing in between Suguru's legs, letting Suguru wrap those arms around him. He sniffles, pathetic as ever, a warm smile on his face. That's the face of a man who just had a god-like creature sit on his face. He hides his face in between Suguru's neck and his shoulder, hands moving to rest on his waist. Suguru grins, softer this time, one hand petting over short hair, the other one resting at the shoulder blades.

"My good boy. You did so good, Satoru.. isn't that right?"

Satoru nodded quickly against his shoulder, squeezing Suguru tight. He's holding onto him for dear life, just taking a minute to himself. His cheeks flush red at the praise, ears going red, his own underwear tight at the idea. He loves being praised. More than anything in this whole world, even kikufuku.

Suguru blinked, brows furrowing. He lifts Satoru's head with one hand, thumb brushing his cheekbones. He's skeptical. Is he okay? Is Satoru tapping out now? If he is, that's okay, of course. That's just peculiar. Satoru is usually more energetic, more enthusiastic. Is it him? "Satoru, my love? What's happening? Are you okay to keep going? Don't lie to me, please. I know you."

"Huh? No.. no, Suguru. I'm okay, I promise. Jus' taking a second. I can keep goin'. I wouldn't lie to you, baby.."

"You would."

"Well–"

"You just lied to me about doing the dishes a week ago."

"Babe.."

"And the trash."

"Suguru, we're losing the plot here."

Suguru frowns, still skeptical. He pinches Satoru's flushed cheek, then smoothing over it with 2 fingers when Satoru whines and complains. He looks Satoru up and down. "Satoru, I swear, if you're lying to me.. I'm going to be really upset. I don't want you to push yourself past your limits."

Satoru scoffs. Pouts. "EXCUSE you? I'm literally the strongest sorcerer. Fuck my limits."

"Satoru Gojō."

"Okay- sorry! Jeez! Babe, I said I'm fine, I promise! Baby- please.. I'm not lying. I promise. I just got a tiny bit winded, I always want you."

"..Fine. I'm sorry. I know I probably sound like I nag you, but- I'm just worried, you know? I don't want you to push yourself for sex. I'm being serious. If you need rest, or if you're sore, I'd hate to hurt you." Suguru whispers, kissing Satoru's forehead in an apology for being a bit annoying. But he just wants to make a point. He's trying his best.

"Aw- babe.. it's fine. I swear. Hey, I mean.. I am just a bit tired. I still want to have you, though.. maybe.." Satoru's cheeks flush a bit, looking at Suguru's eyes and smiling like a dork. He shy's away for a moment, hands cupping his waist. "It's kind of stupid– I was like.. thinking, maybe you can- um.. ride? I mean, hell- babe, you can do whatever you want to me. But I kinda wanted to top tonight, but now I'm a bit tired. I still want to do something with you, so, I just thought, you know.. maybe you can take control tonight? Since I didn't prep or anything I don't really wanna bottom right now and—"

Suguru just stares at him. Holds back a laugh, because what is he so nervous about?

"..Baby, what are you so nervous about? Of course I can take control tonight."

Satoru blinks.

"Oh.. okay."

"Yeah."

They stare at each-other in silence. Suguru puts a hand over his mouth, suppressing a laugh, shaking his head. He lets out a small chuckle, ruffling Satoru's hair. "Alright, Satoru. Take your shorts off."

Satoru also lets out a small laugh, shaking his head. "Jeez, how about you take me out to dinner first?"

Yet he begins to slowly stand up, humming to himself. He sees a small one of those cakes and instantly lights up, completely distracted. He leans forward to that table and takes one, popping the chocolate one in his mouth. And another. And another. He lost track. He blinks again, turning around to look at Suguru's impatient face. He's staring at him.

"Satoru.. if you don't get naked right now."

"Aw, c'mon? Don't I look sexy eating chocolate?"

Suguru raises one brow. Frowns.

"Okay! Okay, jeez!"

He grins sheepish, pulling his shorts down, letting them fall on the floor. He's commando too, of course. No underwear whatsoever, but what can you expect from this man? He walks over to Suguru, guiding Suguru's hand to touch it, letting it rest there. He tilts his head, a small smirk on his face. Satoru is a big guy, size, heart, ego and his junk. Seriously. Suguru's is a nice size, but his husband truly is huge. He doesn't even know what to do with all that sometimes.

Suguru's cheeks flush a little, but not enough to get him down. He hums. "Cute. Now get on the couch."

"Wait.. Suguru, don't we need to prep?"

Suguru thinks for a moment. Oh yeah. That'd be helpful, no lube or preparation would.. hurt. They learned that a long time ago trying to raw dog it with spit as lube. It wasn't fun at all for either of them. Let's not bring that up.

"Yes. Smart thinking. The lube is next to the TV."

"Okay, love. Do you want me to use my fingers? Or do you want to do it yourself? Anythings okay." He says softly, walking over a few steps to the TV, taking the small bottle of lubricant and holding it in his palm. It dwarfs that bottle.

"You can do it. I'm not doing all that."

Satoru grins, walking back and easing Suguru onto his back. "So lazy."

"You try fingering yourself then. I'm riding tonight, so you prep me. That's fair."

"Ah. you're right, how rude of me, my dear queen. Come on and raise those beautiful hips for me?"

Suguru sighed fondly, getting comfortable, raising one brow. He puts a pillow under his head, a small smirk. "Hurry up. I'm impatient, Satoru. I've been here all alone and I want you inside me." His robe is open, arms crossed and legs opened for Satoru to kneel between. He looks beautiful, hair spread out on the pillow, waiting.

Satoru grins, winking, climbing onto the couch, hands on Suguru's thighs when he kneels between them. He spreads his lover's legs open gently, eyes gentling from mischief to something soft and needy. He flicks his eyes up to Suguru's face, kneeling down to kiss his lips slow, not rushed at all. They kiss for a small moment, and Satoru pulls back, his hands sliding up Suguru's thighs to his hips.

"You're ready, baby?"

Suguru nods. He shifts his hips up a little more, soft light from the lamp hitting his face – dark hair shining, those beautiful brown eyes lighter in the glow. Almost like the wood you see in trees, almost like a coffee, something addictive you can just get lost in.

Satoru nods right back, taking his hands off of Suguru's hips to flick the bottle open with his thumb and index finger. He's less giggly now, more focused and tender with his touches. He pours a generous amount of lube onto his fingers, enough that it drips a little bit onto his own arm. He makes sure to use a lot, because he wouldn't ever wanna hurt Suguru, even if it's just his fingers. With his free, not lubricated hand, he lifts one of Suguru's legs up from the back of his knee to rest over his shoulder. He presses a soft kiss there, scooting Suguru so he lays comfortably.

He rubs the lube in between his hands to make it warmer, more comfortable for Suguru. He slicks his middle finger up the most, the first one he's going to ease in.

Suguru's quiet, eyes half-lidded and watching Satoru focus so much on his pleasure, on his comfort. He almost feels guilty for a split second, almost like he doesn't deserve to be pampered like this. But that quickly goes away when Satoru dips his head to kiss at Suguru's thighs, looking up at him when he does so.

The blue eyes look up at him like he's a God that's being worshiped, someone that deserves to be pleasured. He kisses Suguru's inner thigh, resting his cheek there for a split second to admire him.

Beautiful.

Satoru smiles against his thigh, nuzzling it before pressing a kiss to his spent cock. Suguru whines, face flushing. Satoru laughs under his breath, before sitting up properly again to straighten Suguru up. His hand dips down, warmed up with lubricant and tender touches, grazing his hole.

Suguru's thighs involuntarily twitch, but he keeps them open and breathes in and out. Just like Satoru reminds him to. He doesn't bottom often, so he's nervous, but he trusts Satoru. Always.

Satoru's eyes begin flicking between Suguru's face and where his fingers rest, and he rubs soothing circles into the sensitive skin. Nothing less gentle, nothing more. It's warming him up, showing him it's okay - he would never do anything to hurt him. He continues rubbing small circles, face flushed and blinking down at Suguru's face that seems composed - but his cheeks are red, pupils are dilated, breathing isn't steady.

"..Satoru, I think m'ready."

Satoru looks up. He nods. He kisses Suguru's neck, slow trail of kisses up his jaw to distract him from the light sting when he begins to push in 1 middle finger. He kisses Suguru's lips, only leaving the tip of his finger inside of Suguru, distracting him and holding him at the same time. He smiles against his lips when Suguru makes a small, content noise.

He lets it sit there for a few seconds, before slowly pushing in the rest of his finger. It's not teasing, it's as gentle and warm as you can possibly think it is. He lets it stay there, engulfed by Suguru's warmth, lips resting near Suguru's temple to always kiss if Suguru gets overwhelmed. He kisses down to his earring, trailing up back to his temple and hair.

He uses as much distractions as he can from the immediate burn that made Suguru whimper and almost close his legs. He hushed him softly, kissing his head again.

"Hey. You okay, Su?"

"Yeah, s'been a while."

"I know, baby. I know. Does it hurt? Do you want me to keep going?" Satoru mumbled against his hair, other hand soothingly petting along Suguru's thigh. He looks up, concerned, wondering if he hurt him. It's unlikely, but he always gets worried that Suguru is gonna get hurt because of him. He kisses Suguru's jaw.

Suguru nods, kissing Satoru's lips back, closing his eyes as he melts into it. "No.. doesn't hurt, Satoru. I'm okay, just be slow, okay? Been a while.." he reminds, looking up with needy eyes - clearly desperate, but he wants to drag this on too. He missed time with Satoru, missed this, everything about him. His tender touches, soft hands, all these kisses and love from his husband.

"'Course, baby. I'll only be rough when you want me to." He whispers, finger only beginning to move now after a few minutes went by. He moves it in and out, slow, curling it slightly so it doesn't feel as painful. He soothes Suguru's thigh, finger curling and slowly stretching him open – moving patiently, precise, years of knowing his husband's body in and out makes it easier to know what he likes and doesn't like. He keeps the kisses coming, lips, cheeks, eyelid, brows, forehead.

"Gonna add the second finger now, okay, sweetie? Just let me know if it hurts or if you want me to slow down or speed up."

Suguru nods, looking up with glassy eyes, rutting into Satoru's palm, trying to get the finger deeper – used to the sensation already. He kisses Satoru's face desperately, gasping under his breath when it brushes against his prostate. "More.."

Satoru takes out his finger, taking the bottle of lube and pouring more onto his fingers. He warms it up quickly, rubs it into Suguru's hole gently and all on his two fingers. He lines them up with Suguru, middle and ring finger pressing very slowly inside of Suguru. Warm kisses press all over Suguru's cheek and neck, coaxing him, hand on his thigh moving up to his stomach to rub small circles.

Suguru whimpers again under his breath, eyes watering, but never from pain – from such immense pleasure that he wants to cry. He grinds down onto the two fingers, moaning when they press inside all the way inside him. Satoru curls them, stroking those sensitive walls, along his prostate that he never fails to miss. He strokes along it, fingers rubbing against that soft, sensitive bundle of nerves.

Suguru has to cover his mouth, hips lifting up, beginning to harden again and leak against his abdomen – humping Satoru's fingers desperately. He flutters his eyes shut, lip trembling, hand grasping Satoru's wrists.

"S-Satoru– fuck, please– just like that, need you so bad– ohmygod.." he chokes, fluttering around Satoru's fingers, tightening desperately. Satoru coos, rubbing soothing circles on his stomach, fingers scissoring Suguru open and stretching him, careful not to hurt him - brushing against his prostate to make him feel good. After he keeps scissoring, he puts them in a curling position – come hither motion, moving up towards his stomach to hit his prostate with every gentle thrust of his fingers.

Suguru squeezes around him, tight, eyes closing and heart pounding in his chest. All of the sadness from earlier melts into being held, loved on, feeling so good he can start floating. Suguru looks up, teary-eyed, hands grasping Satoru's forearms. His nails scratch down them, desperate, legs opening wider so Satoru's fingers hit deeper – more, somehow. He cries out, back arching, thighs tensing.

"S-Satoru– I'm gonna– please, m'gonna cum again.."

Satoru looks up, eyes soft, focused, lashes fluttering and shining. His lips part, kissing his throat, looking at him. He thrusts his fingers in deeper, curling them perfectly, everything timing up perfectly. His free hand snakes to Suguru's cock, stroking quick, firm against his skin. He rubs the tip with his thumb, slippery and rubbing him with his own pre-cum. He noses at Suguru's throat.

"You can cum, baby. Promise. I got you. I got you, Suguru – let go, baby."

Tears stream down Suguru's cheeks, squirming against the couch, grinding against Satoru's fist desperately, making it slippery and he pulls Satoru in for a kiss. He thrusts into his palm, clenching against his fingers and kissing him so deep, so desperate. He cries into it. Satoru hushes him gently, coaxing the orgasm out of him, stroking faster and faster until Suguru finally finishes.

Suguru trembles, body locking up as he cums for a second time in the row. He trembles with aftershocks, making a mess on Satoru's fist, ropes of warmth now coated on his own stomach and Satoru's fingers, sticky between them. His chest moves up and down, heart racing, shaking, crying and grasping onto Satoru.

Satoru continues to gently stroke his cock through it, keeping his fingers buried to the hilt, keeping them gently coaxing anymore trembles out of his body. He milks him, kissing his lips, whispering the softest of praise.

"That's it, Su. You were so good for me, so so good, baby. That's it.." he whispered, holding him close, staying there for just a moment now. He stays holding him, chin resting on his shoulder, before slowly pulling out his fingers and taking his hand off of Suguru. He wipes them on a conveniently placed cloth, and cleans the cum off of Suguru's stomach. He leans over him, kissing him again, before kneeling upright.

"Come here, love. Let's take a break, yeah? That was a lot. You came twice." Satoru said with a small, content smile on his face. He lays back, opening his arms for Suguru to come be held. Suguru sits up with wobbly arms, robe finally slipping off of his body completely, leaving him naked and vulnerable - just like Satoru. He climbs into those arms, trembling, thighs shaking. He rests his head on Satoru's shoulder, climbing onto his lap.

"Satoru.. that felt really good."

"Really? Couldn't tell."

Suguru looks up and glares. He pinches Satoru's cheek, then slumps his head back onto that shoulder. He rocks back and forth, his hand brushing Satoru's own erection. He closes his eyes, breathing for a minute, taking a sip of water. He also looks at the small table near the couch, and his face lights up. Snacks. Sugar.

He looks at Satoru, sitting up, pulling the table closer to them. "Eat some sweets. You're gonna need it." He says, grabbing a petit four and popping it into his mouth. It's lemon, tangy and sweet at the same time.

"Say less, babe. You're the best. But, I must say, what do you mean that I'll need it? I'm not the one being penetrated tonight. Just saying." Satoru sassily reminds, taking a handful of popcorn and shoving it in his mouth, followed by a wink.

Suguru stares at him. Unimpressed. Sharp eyes glaring up at his direction.

"Next time you mouth off like that to me, I swear I will tie you to the bed frame and edge you for hours. I promise you that. Behave."

Satoru blinks, caught off guard, lips pressing into a fine line as he brings his hand up to do a zipping it shut sign. His cheeks flush at that thought. That's something for another time. He isn't mad at the thought.

"Good. Now lay your ass down. I'm ready for my third of the night, are you?"

Satoru smiles, sheepish, one pale brow raised as he shifts, laying back down on the couch with his head propped up onto a pillow. He's rubbing his eyes, putting his hands behind his head. "More than ready, baby. I'm all yours tonight, ya know? Always." He lifts his head to look at Suguru, and his cheeks can't help but redden even more when he sees Suguru. It's been so many years of being together, but he gets more and more beautiful as the years go on. Long black hair that curls up a little at the ends, those soft graying hairs at his temples makes him look so human, so real and so his. The softer stomach, abs not as visible, the light stretch marks on his hips and lower stomach lighting beautifully, shades of silver and light brown. Warm, golden light casts shadows on both their faces, the small lamp bringing a little light into their dark living room.

Suguru climbs, careful, straddling his lap as he puts warm hands on Satoru's chest. He lets them rest there, eyes half-lidded, jaw relaxed when he looks into those wanting, soft blue eyes. The whole world knows Satoru Gojō as a weapon, as someone untouchable – but not Suguru. Suguru sees him as the most beautiful thing in this whole world, the gentle man who just wants the better for everyone. And every day, when Satoru is in his arms, he will make sure that he's treated as something golden and beautiful. Never a weapon. Not in their home, not when they've found peace through all the ruin.

Suguru looks down at Satoru's face, golden now because of the lamp, long lashes fluttering up at him. He hums, low, leaning down so their foreheads rest together – skin against skin, sweat, the heat and color of their bodies melting together into a swirl of love, lust, every sin and every prayer that you can imagine between these two men. Every hardship, every soft caress, every splatter of blood or every kiss to the forehead. It's never-ending, through the warmth and bloodshed, they will be holding hands through it all and saying I love you with every soft, shaky breath.

Suguru's hands stay on his husband's chest, but one of them eventually slip up, caressing the back of Satoru's neck, holding it there. His face stays neutral, not smiling, no wrinkles on his face. But his eyes show everything – fondness. So much love that you can almost see it pouring out of him, so much that it hurts his chest and crushes his ribcage. He looks into soft blue eyes, forehead-to-forehead, lashes almost touching each-other.

"I love you." Suguru whispered, breath mingling with Satoru's, hand squeezing the back of Satoru's neck gently. "I love you so much."

Satoru breathed in, slow, hands moving up Suguru's bare back, tracing tattoos and intricate lines. His hands resting carefully on his back move to his waist, thumbs rubbing circles into the sensitive skin. He smiles against Suguru's presence, eyes crinkling, fingers digging into the warm flesh. It's greedy, so loving, but he can't help himself when Suguru looks so beautiful, especially when he spoke about how he loves him. His hands moved carefully, circles on the waist, moving to his thighs, grabbing handfuls, greedy but gentle.

"I love you more."

Suguru grins, pressing a kiss to Satoru's nose. He pulls his face back, hand moving from the chest to his face. "That's impossible." The hand on his face cups Satoru's cheek entirely, pinching gently before caressing his jaw. He kisses his lips slowly, melting into it, their naked bodies pressing up against each-other, lips parted.

Satoru flutters his eyes shut, arms wrapping around Suguru, lips fitting perfectly against Suguru's own. His mouth parts too, taking the invitation, tongue sliding right besides Suguru's. They rock their hips slowly against each-other, kissing slowly, Satoru's arms squeezing tight around Suguru's waist. He pulls back, a small string of spit connecting their lips, and he looks into Suguru's eyes.

His lips quirk up, holding in a laugh, his hands rubbing small circles on Suguru's waist – something tender in the midst of the heat. His lips tremble from holding in his laughter, making a small pfft sound.

Suguru stares at him blankly, before the eyebrows furrow. He raises one brow, pinching Satoru's cheek.

"What's so funny?" He inquired, teasing and mischievous as he can't help it, giggling himself. Satoru bursts into laughter, hiding his face into Suguru's chest while his laughter bubbles up fast. It's loud, loving, and so so stupid. He chokes on his spit, eyes crinkling up, smile so big – not the one he shows to the public, but something he keeps for Suguru's eyes only. Something only Suguru can bring out himself.

Suguru grins, his laughter smaller, and he also laughs. He can't help it when those eyes of Satoru light up this whole room.. literally.

"Babe- HA- you- why are you looking at me like that?!" Satoru gasps, throwing his head back, laughing it up like Suguru's own joy is something to celebrate and laugh about. Nothing is funny about this moment, but even in their tender sex, they will always have been those two boys pranking other people and mischievously laughing at the other. The best of buddies turned into the most insufferably in love couple. "Suguru— STOP— HAH-"

Suguru groans, face in his hands, shoulders trembling with such bright joy and amusement. A hint of embarrassment too, considering he's hovering over Satoru's lap.

"Are you kidding me, Satoru? I was seriously really getting into it."

"I-I know– but– but your FACE! Baby, oh my God, hello, you're beautiful, but you looked so–!"

"Bro."

Satoru blinks, appalled, gasping to himself.

"Bro?! I'm–"

"Yeah. Bro. Since you want to act like an idiot when I'm about to go on top of your dick, you're getting the male friend nicknames. You jerk." Suguru complained, no bite at all, just a big stupid smile on his face. His hair falls into his face, hand squeezing Satoru's cheek again before pinching gently.

"Suguru, baby, there's NO way you can call me bro when my fingers were just inside of you."

"And what are you gonna do about it, Satoru? I can call you whatever I want."

Satoru pouts. Hands grab Suguru's hips, thrusting up between his cheeks once, teasing, trying to make a point. He tucks the blanket over them, rubbing his cheek against Suguru's neck. He kisses there once. "Probably nothing. You know how weak I am for you." He whispered into sensitive skin, nuzzling his nose against him.

"Aw.. such a sappy loser. Humping me and looking like you're gonna cry."

"Suguru! Come on!" He whines, loud, obnoxiously rubbing his nose against Suguru's neck, nibbling on his throat. His hands squeeze plush hips, running up and down the strong thighs of his husband. He looks up, pathetic, grabbing Suguru everywhere, getting impatient quickly.

Suguru tilts his head, sharp eyes glinting with mischief as he grinds down onto Satoru teasingly, spreading his thighs wider over Satoru's lap. "What's wrong?" He purred, adding a purposeful, lustful sway of his hips.

Satoru grabbed those hips, trying to stop them from moving so much – his heart pounding, face beet red. He grinds up into him another time, head throwing back when he groans under his breath. His eyes flick up to Suguru's teasing, evil face, and he feels like he's falling in love all over again.

Suguru blinks, pausing a little before his smile turns coy, hands moving to go onto Satoru's shoulders. He rests his forehead against Satoru's, fluttering his eyes shut, squeezing Satoru's shoulder – teasing now. "Okay. Okay, let's get serious. Very serious business in here.. we must get Satoru Gojō's dick inside me. ASAP."

Satoru laughs, loud, shaking Suguru in his lap and making his body wobble. "Never say that again, oh my god-" he snorts, chest rising and falling fast. "Suguru, please, what is wrong with you?"

Suguru laughed too, bowing over Satoru's shoulder and his own shoulders start trembling – laughter striking through them both. Suguru's hair flops in front again, and that makes them both laugh even harder – Satoru snorts, Suguru squeals. Satoru lays back down on the couch, pulling Suguru down with him, nestled together under the blanket while they laugh over the silliest things.

When their laughter starts to calm down, their smiles get smaller, softer, and they look into each-others eyes. Long, uninterrupted eye contact. They smile, noses brushing against each-other, eyes half-lidded and so, so stupidly in love.

"Mmh.. okay.. okay.. wanna feel you.." Satoru whispers, gentle hands resting in between Suguru's shoulder blades, rubbing small circles. He fixes the blanket, grinding slowly against each-other, the heat mixing in with the mischievous energy they always have.

Suguru nods, shifting a bit, reaching behind him to guide Satoru in between warm, slick thighs.

"Wait – Su, hold on.." Satoru mumbled, reaching absentmindedly to the pillow, grabbing the small bottle lube and pouring some between their bodies. "Don't wanna hurt you, baby. Don't want it to hurt. Need lube." Suguru nods, waiting, impatient.

He pours some on his cock, rubbing it quickly to warm it up. He moves them back into position, wiping his hand on the rag. He lets his hand hover for a quick moment, before resting on Suguru's back. He lines himself up with Suguru again, ready now.

The tip pressed against him, and his cheeks flushed, sinking down slowly onto Satoru. It presses deep inside him, so big, he can feel every ridge – and he whimpers. Quiet and focused, his eyes watering from the stretch, hands scrambling to find Satoru's body.

"Easy, baby.." Satoru whispers, brows furrowing and his hands easing down Suguru's back, one resting, one slipping to hold under Suguru's ass where it meets thigh. He thrusts up gently, before stilling and letting Suguru get used to the feeling of being filled. He knows it's been a long time since Suguru bottomed.

Suguru clenches around him, nervous about it but so excited. He grinds down slightly, only halfway, feeling Satoru's gentle hands in contrast to being split open. Suguru's mouth opens a bit to let out a shaky, broken moan.

"Satoru, f-fuck–.." he stammered, his own cock trapped between their two stomachs, rubbing against Satoru's abs. He bows his head into Satoru's neck, hiding his face that's all red and flushed now.

Satoru smiles, soft, kissing Suguru's temple. He holds that trembling body in his arms, before slowly pushing himself in deeper. He's almost fully inside. He thrusts slow, barely even a rock of the hips. He shushes Suguru's whimpers, cooing softly when his hand strokes Suguru's hair or Suguru clenches tight.

"I know, I know baby – it's big, huh? I know.. takin' it so well.. shh.. I got you, yeah?" He whispered, hand stroking soothing circles into his scalp.

Suguru whines, grinding himself in between Satoru's stomach and rocking his hips slowly, hands clutching at Satoru's arms now. He rests his cheek on Satoru's shoulder, desperate dark eyes teary, gazing up at Satoru's own. He leaks steady against Satoru's stomach, precum smearing between their bodies. "More.. put it all in, please.."

Satoru grinned, a little cocky, but still gentle. He eases Suguru onto his cock until he finally bottoms out inside him with a groan himself– he's still gentle, he knows his size and knows not to rush into it, especially at their age. When Suguru whimpers again, Satoru whispers soft praise into his hair. He kisses his head, slow rocks of their hips, moving together in sync. It's not even about cumming fast anymore, just to feel each other's skin, to feel the warmth and heat under the blanket.

Satoru closes his eyes, pale lashes fluttering, casting shadows on his cheeks, his own face heating up. He holds Suguru close to him, their chests pressed together, you can feel the slow thump of their hearts racing. He gets engulfed in Suguru's warmth, soft rocks of his hips, keeps pressing soft kisses to Suguru's hair.

Suguru moans, loud, muffled into Satoru's shoulder. He bites down, nails digging into Satoru's arms, lashes wet from crying. He's the one that starts moving faster, hips moving up, rocking up and down, gasping when the tip brushes against the prostate. He keeps his head borrowed into Satoru's shoulder where it curves to his neck, and he starts bouncing on Satoru's lap.

The warm lamp brings a soft glow onto their moving bodies under the blanket, Suguru's amber eyes glowing under the light – golden shadows in his hair and face make him look ethereal, warm, so beautiful after all these years. His flushed face and lines by his eyes are just 2 things out of his body that make Satoru fall in love with him even more.

His arms eventually curl up against Satoru's chest in a sort of T-Rex motion, he doesn't know why, but it's comfortable for him. He gets tired of that, though, quickly moving his arms back to rest under Satoru, wrapping around him like he's holding a pillow. He rests his head now, right over Satoru's collarbone.

Satoru was laying back, his cheek resting against Suguru's top of his head. His face was also red, baby blue eyes catching in the warm glow of the light. He lets Suguru do what he pleases, arms resting around Suguru, rubbing his back in soothing motions. He sighs, content, Suguru's warmth feels so good around him – he feels calm for once in his life of chaos, missions, cruel curses. He smiles against Suguru's hair.

"Comfy, baby?" Satoru asks with a gentle voice, one hand sneaking up to hold the back of Suguru's head. He cradles it, petting through long strands of hair – fiddling with the grays. He loves those, no matter what Suguru says about them.

"Hm.." Suguru mumbles into Satoru's collarbone, hips moving slowly, getting used to the sensation inside him. It's big, really big. Suguru isn't small, but hell, it's a pretty noticeable difference. He bounces slowly, grinding himself onto it, face red but slowly relaxing into it. "S'big.."

"Hah– I know, baby.. it's big, I know. You can take it, can't you? You always take it." He crooned, voice gentle in that teasing way he always does when he gets a hold of control. "I know my Suguru, he always takes it so good, huh? My beautiful boy.. feel s'tight, Su."

Suguru whines at those words, bouncing on it a bit faster now – fluttering walls squeezing Satoru's cock tight, nails digging into Satoru's back. He begins humping him, bouncing on him and at the same time grinding his self against Satoru's abdomen. He breathes heavily, leaking tip flushed red, pupils blown wide.

He bounces quick, Satoru hitting that spot so beautifully each time, buried to the hilt every time he sinks down. He cries out, desperate now, moving hips in quick circles as he tries to get Satoru inside him deeper. He rides Satoru, his ass jiggling a bit, slapping against Satoru's balls with every thrust. His arms squeeze tight around Satoru, making the blanket shift above them with every quick and desperate bounce. Satoru gasps, hands moving to grab Suguru — groping his ass, spreading him open a bit to get him impaled on his cock.

"Suguru– oh my God– fuck–! Hah- Suguru, baby, just like that.." Satoru chokes out, a broken moan escaping his lips when he grabs Suguru's ass, thumbs pressing into soft flesh and stretch marks. They move to his hips, wrapping each hand around his waist, grabbing Suguru desperately. He bounces Suguru himself now, moving his body with only a bit of his strength, so easy. His cock sliding inside and out thrusts a bit harder, more needy, angling to get deep inside Suguru, always grazing against his prostate.

They move quickly now, not rough, just wanting and so needy. Suguru bounces quick on him, Satoru's cock slips out of him. He whimpers at the loss, and he reaches behind him to line it up with his entrance again. He gasps as it slides in again easily, and he rides on it faster, harder. His body straightens up, sits up more and his hands slip to Satoru's flushed, pink chest. So big and warm, palm not even able to fully cup one pec.

"S-Satoru.." He gasps, tears slipping down his face again, cheeks and nose flushed. He rides fast, keeping his hands grabbing Satoru's chest, moving so fast their skin slaps together, wet, noisy. Suguru's cock slaps against his tummy, aching, leaking and leaving streaks against his stomach. He cries, shaky, hands groping and moving down Satoru's chest. He scratches lightly, desperate, hair flowing down his back, sticking from the sweat.

Satoru moans, loud, throwing his head back against the pillow, throbbing inside Suguru, feeling himself leaking inside Suguru, hands grabbing hips now, moving to his waist, to his back. He thrusts up into Suguru, caressing the small of his back, panting into it. His balls slap against his thighs, feeling them tighten up – a warmth coiling deep inside his stomach and chest.

"Suguru- Suguru- Suguru- oh my god, baby.. fuck, you're so–" he chokes out, groaning when Suguru tightens around him. "You feel so good, baby, so- so fuckin' tight and warm.." He whispered, shaky voice and hands wrap around Suguru like fire. "Suguru, takin' it so well, my angel, so fuckin' beautiful.. m'right here, baby, cry all you want. I got you." He lifted one hand, the other planted on the small of Suguru's back. He wipes Suguru's tears with his thumb, brushing under his eye.

Suguru's leaned his cheek into Satoru's palm, face burning to the touch, bounces faltering for a moment before resuming, slower now, still so deep and tight. He whimpers, a small broken sound, tears soaking Satoru's fingers, lip trembling. It feels so good, he feels so full, his body is already sensitive and shaking from having cum twice before – but his body is so desperate for more of Satoru, more everything.

"My poor, poor baby.." Satoru whispers, hands both now cradling Suguru's cheeks in his hand, wiping those tears like they're so precious. "I know, baby, it's so much, huh? Already came so much.. my gorgeous boy, that's it, I know, ha–" he kisses Suguru's cheeks, right under his eyes, over them now – the wet tears on his lips now from being so deep in worship he has to kiss every part of his Suguru's face. He kisses his brows, in between them, his hairline, every beauty mark on his face is like an angel took it's time sculpting him, on this earth for him to love, to kiss, to fuck.

"Satoru, touch me– please.. n-need.." He wailed, tears streaming down fast, thick droplets down his chin and onto Satoru's face. He cries, eyes red-rimmed, pupils blown so wide it almost looks like his eyes are black. He grinds instead of bouncing now, his own cock flushed red and twitching, needy for touch, hands fisting Satoru's chest. He was lost in it, pretty face all wrecked, lashes wet and longer, nose all red.

"I got you, baby.. of course, Su', you kiddin'?" He rasped, one hand moving to wipe on the rag next to them. He adjusts it, again, before wrapping one hand around Suguru's aching cock. He strokes gently, never rough, using his precum to stroke smoothly, never making it hurt. "Look at you– cryin' all over me. Is it that good, baby? So fuckin' good for me, I know you're takin' it so well, Su.. just a little more."

Suguru nods, sniffling, hair sticking to his shoulders and forehead, riding slowed down now – it's more slow grinding, rocks of their hips together, lube noisy. Tears continue to stream down, his hips bucking up into Satoru's hand, cock straining and his tip weeping (just like he is).

"Satoru.." he whispered, stamina slowly leaving his body, hips rocking desperately, tightening so much he squeezes Satoru beautifully, making the other man moan into his hair. "C-can't.. gonna.." he whimpers, hands clutching at Satoru's shoulders, digging in and leaving crescent shaped marks on his body. Tears stream down his cheeks, dripping onto Satoru's chest, getting his bangs wet.

Satoru looks up at him, in awe, his hand still stroking Suguru's cock, rubbing his thumb over the sensitive tip. "Come on, baby.." he whispers, rubbing quicker, thrusting inside Suguru a little to help him out a bit. His hands are so gentle, one wiping tears, the other stroking Suguru so tenderly it hurts his chest, seeing his Suguru in such bliss.

"S-Satoru..!" He repeats, sobbing, body beginning to tense up, sitting right on Satoru. He's buried to the hilt inside of Suguru, it brushes against his prostate with the perfect amount of pressure, Satoru's thumb rubs over just right. He gasps, crying out, body shaking, legs shaking, he feels stuck.

"Baby, baby– it's okay, Suguru– let go.. I got you. I got you." Satoru whispers, holding him close while his thrusts stay at the same rhythm, never faltering, hips like a machine while his hand never stops stroking Suguru. The friction, the pressure, the love is all too much for poor Suguru.

Suguru gasps, loud, almost screaming when he cums. He trembles, it isn't even a lot of physical evidence, weak spurts across Satoru's fingers and abs, his hole fluttering tight. He cries, body shaking from oversensitivity, tensing up, it's all too much. Satoru gasps, hips stuttering up inside Suguru. Suguru shakes, thighs tense, hands moving to cradle Satoru's face.

Satoru's face turns red, his ears red, hips beginning to slam. It's on accident, his body is screaming to release, to let go, to finally let himself cum. He gasps, hands moving to Suguru's ass, spreading him open, then groping him tight. Bruising, almost.

"Satoru- Satoru, cum inside me– God, fuck me!" He gasps, body shaking, overstimulated but so ready. He's ready to feel Satoru let go, to take over like an animal, to chase his own release. Satoru's eyes glint with a need, something deep inside him, he grabs Suguru on top of him and slams him down. He pants, face red, sweating.

He pounds into Suguru, using his body now for his own pleasure, one hand sneaking to tease Suguru's oversensitive tip. His cock throbs so deep inside, Suguru's body spasming around Satoru. He cries out Satoru's name when he gets railed, when Satoru fucks him, overstimulates him, takes him.

Satoru groans, body chasing it's release now, his head thrown back onto the couch while he kicks the blanket off weakly. Too hot. Too much. Even his sensory needs are specific during sex.

He fucks into Suguru, he's so warm around him, soft and cradling him. He kisses Suguru's stomach, dragging him down to suck on his nipple, lapping it gently. Suguru cries, hard, hand grabbing Suguru's short hair, tugging it desperately, hips slamming down onto his cock as he gets bounced like the sweetest toy. "Satoru–! Ah!"

"S-Suguru, fuck, I'm–! I'm gonna fill you so good, baby, you're so.. hgh.."

Satoru bites down on his nipple gently, soothing it with his tongue before sucking it. His hands move now, again, groping everywhere, his back, his thigh, his ass. Satoru pounds up into him, he thrusts hard a few last times. He whimpers, deep, needy, one more slam inside of Suguru is what completely undoes him.

He gasps, filling Suguru up, buried to the hilt as white, thick ropes of cum fill Suguru's insides up, his back arching into it, pounding Suguru hard while he finally cums. Suguru breathes, heavy, collapsing on top of Satoru, face red, sweating, shaking hard. Satoru shakes, hard, orgasm hitting him so hard it feels surreal, vision almost blanking out. He pants, slowing his thrusts, arms wrapping around Suguru now, pressing sloppy kisses to his shoulder. It's warm, the end of the sex, now just them.

They breathe now. Slow. In sync, in love, so exhausted, both their eyes fluttering shut – they're sticky, so warm.

Suguru opens his eyes, half-lidded eyes looking up at Satoru as he regains his energy. His hand cradles Satoru's face, shaky, black nails tracing over kiss-bitten lips.

Satoru opens his eyes, big, wet and pupils blown. He breathes, chest rising and falling in quick breaths. He holds Suguru tight, pressing a kiss to the sweaty forehead, hands rubbing his back in small circles. He kisses in between his brows. He can't help it, he needs to kiss every inch of Suguru's face when they're close like that. Suguru smiles, soft, exhausted.

"S'gu.."

"M'right here, sweetheart. You're okay.. that was a lot, huh?" Suguru mumbles, voice hazy, eyes full of so much love behind that amber.

He kisses Satoru's lips, soft, tasting the salt and sweetness of his mouth, hand cupping his warm, red cheek. Satoru nods, moving his face to be burrowed in Suguru's neck. He closes his eyes, kissing his hair. "Did I go too hard, Suguru? M'sorry if I did, baby you felt so good.. was that okay? Did I do good? Did you feel good?"

Suguru smirks a bit, soft hearted, hands carding through soft white hair. He pets soft, soothing circles into his scalp, kissing his forehead.

"Mmh.. no, Satoru. You weren't too rough at all. Just got excited at the end, huh?"

Satoru nods. He kisses the corner of Suguru's mouth, holding him tight, naked, sensitive bodies pressed up against each-other. He's still inside of him, warm, softening within the warm walls. Satoru looks up with a frown. "Don't wanna get up.. but we gotta shower."

Suguru frowns himself, hiding now, brows furrowing in a stubborn way. He hides in Satoru's neck, arms wrapping around him in a means to not get up.

"No.."

"Suguru. C'mon, baby. We need to get up." He coos, sitting up, holding Suguru in his arms. He slowly cradles him, sighing, eyes closing slowly before he opens them, kissing Suguru's forehead tenderly. "I'm gonna pull out now, okay?"

Suguru whines, but he can't really fight back. He stays limp in Satoru's arms, letting him handle his body. He nods, not moving, deciding to let Satoru do all the work – that's because Satoru doesn't have a problem with it.

Satoru slowly pulls out, a whimper coming out of his own lips when he loses the warmth from Suguru. He slips out of Suguru, and Suguru whines, fluttering around nothing due to the loss, already missing the feeling of being full. The cum drips out of his ass, warm, running down his thigh, and Suguru gets embarrassed quick. His ears turn red, and he hides his face.

Satoru grins, mischievous, one hand slipping down to hold Suguru's ass cheek. It slides under, holding where thigh and ass meet, squeezing lightly.

"Aw.. baby, why so shy now? Remember when you were saying you were gonna destroy me? How you were gonna be in control? That's cute, 'cause now you're all full f'me. Isn't that funny? Hmm? So big and strong, and yet.. you cried how big I was."

Suguru looks up with a pout, eyes glaring up at Satoru. He weakly hits Satoru's arm, rocking back and forth, and punches him in the arm again.

"..Asshole, take me to the bathroom now. I'll tie you up next time. Don't test me, Satoru." He hisses, fists clenching, he looks adorable to Satoru. Not scary at all. Like a mean cat at worst.

"Alright, alright. Wouldn't want you to scratch me with your claws now, huh?"

"Go fuck yourself."

"I'd prefer you did, Suguru~" He croons, standing up, one arm under Suguru's thighs, the other holding his waist. He kisses his forehead, nuzzling against sweaty hair. He walks with Suguru to their bathroom, keeping the door open, setting Suguru down on the closed toilet seat. He turns around, turning on the shower, waiting for it to be a good temperature – not too hot or cold.

Suguru watches him with soft eyes, watching the curve of that beautifully sculptured back, warm muscles, flushed skin. He's so beautiful, those scars on his body adding to his charm, something he knows Satoru is insecure about. Suguru stands up, shaky, but he can walk himself.

He walks up behind Satoru, wrapping arms around him, resting his head on Satoru's back. He presses his cheek to the warmed skin, closing his eyes, hands resting on his stomach. He nuzzles the warm muscle, looking up with soft eyes, his eyes fixed on the buzzed part of Satoru's hair. He kisses his back once.

Satoru freezes, his hand in the warm spray of water, his eyes widening slightly. Suguru was so quiet that he didn't really make any sound, and he just.. did that. Satoru stays quiet, hands flopping to his sides, eyes closing.

"Suguru.."

Suguru looks up, watching, a small shine in his eye he never used to have. It's alien, almost. Satoru loves seeing that warm glinting, the one that makes him look alive, that's his Suguru. Suguru smiles, soft, eyelashes fluttering up. Satoru knows that look – that soft, wanting look of attention. The look that's equivalent to wind-chimes on a windy day, the taste of sweetness in the best lollipops can't compete with Suguru's real smile. His earring glinting in the warm glow of the lamp, his sloped nose twitching when Satoru's breath trickles his face. Suguru's always been the sunlight peeking behind the trees, always has been something warm and beautiful that got destroyed until he was the mere glass on the roads, the crumpled magazine – yet, he bounced back, he was still able to climb back to warmth.

"Satoru?" He whispers, soft, brows furrowed now – not like the memory Satoru remembered. Now even more beautiful than imagined, a small smile on his face. He taps on Satoru's shoulder, turning him around. "Satoru, sweetheart, you're spacing. You okay? You with me, angel? Need to lay down?" He whispers, worry in those warm eyes, hands going to cup Satoru's cheeks. Soft gray streaks glint in the light, shining like something precious.

Satoru snaps back into reality, eyes flicking up and down Suguru, giving a weak smile. His own pristine white hair shines, and his hand rest on Suguru's waist. He looks into those eyes.

"Seriously, Suguru. You're so beautiful, do you know that? Do you?"

Suguru blinks. Raises one brow.

"What?"

"I mean it, you're so beautiful, you just get more and more beautiful. I can't even.." he whispers, leaning down and resting his cheek against Suguru's head.

Suguru smiles, still one brow raised, and he pats Satoru's back. "Thank you. Let's get into the shower before you cry a river." He remarked, a small smirk on his face when he wipes Satoru's eyes with one thumb. He climbs into the shower, pulling Satoru in with him, and the warm spray hits them beautifully. Suguru holds him, arms wrapped around Satoru's waist.

"Mmh.. baby.. gonna wash you up. Your thighs are all sticky.." Satoru mumbles, kissing his forehead, before getting on his knees and smiling. He presses his cheek against Suguru's thigh, looking up at him with soft, glowing eyes. He kisses the inside of Suguru's thigh, giving a goofy smile. "That okay?"

Suguru's breath catches, cheeks flushing, hand moving down to run through wet hair. He looks into his eyes and nods. He reaches up to grab a clean loofah, and hands it to Satoru. He hands him an unscented bar of soap.

Satoru works the loofah between his thighs, careful of the sensitive skin, soap lathering and gentle. He wipes the dried cum off of Suguru's legs, his thigh, he gently goes between his legs to clean him up. Suguru flushes, squirming, still sensitive – but he manages to stay still. Fingers thread through Satoru's hair, lips slightly parted. He looks down, watching Satoru like he's a worshipper on the ground for a God – washing his feet and his legs, and Suguru would've never expected the strongest sorcerer in the world is on his knees. For him.

"Satoru.. my body is clean already. You've been washing the same spot for a while." He mumbles, lifting Satoru's face up, eyes soft. "C'mon. Up."

Satoru frowns, kissing Suguru's stomach, resting his forehead there. His arms wrap around tighter, holding him close. But he complies, he's good, and he wants to get into bed soon. "Mm.. fine.."

He slowly gets up, holding onto Suguru's hand, kissing his shoulder quickly. He looks at him, grinning, nuzzling their noses together.

"Are you gonna wash your hair, Suguru? Or tomorrow?"

"Not today.. tired. But you, sir, need to wash your body. I'll do it, turn around. I don't want a dirty ass man." Suguru mumbled, turning Satoru around.

He looks at Satoru's back, kissing down his spine, looking at big scars that pepper along his skin. He traces those scars like they're holy artifacts, thumbs brushing his traps, before grabbing Satoru's loofah up on the shelf. He takes a bar of soap, and lathers it up.

Satoru stays still, stiff, quiet and surprised even with all the years of affection and gentleness he's been giving through their years of marriage. He still freezes up at any show of affection, tries to joke it off, but something that'll always get him is when Suguru sees his scars, his back, something that was once thirsted upon by his fans.. and now it's broken and battered. Something that can't be fixed, something he can't stand to look at anymore.

But here's Suguru, washing every crevice of his back and arms, rubbing small circles and humming while he does it. Like they used to do in High-school, like he isn't something blinding or hideous to look at. He melts into it, white lashes now gray and damp, fists unclenching.

Suguru spends his sweet time in the shower, unrushed, kissing every single scar on Satoru's back, arms reaching to hold his husbands hands from behind. He rubs his cheek on Satoru's spine, every freckle gets traced, every scar gets kissed and noticed. Suguru looks up at his hair, and kisses the nape of his neck. He does have to strain a bit to reach, but he got it. He isn't much shorter, anyway.

Satoru holds back tears, swallowing them down quick, because he never cries. Barely. He's desperate for all of Suguru's love, he wants it so bad he's melting for it, warm skin reddening under embarrassment and so much tenderness. Suguru's lips feel like butterflies resting on him, being blessed by an angel. He squeezes Suguru's hand.

"You're so good t'me, Sugu. What I do to deserve someone like you?" He whispered, bringing Suguru's hand up to kiss it.

Suguru smiles against his back, shaking his head.

"You stop that. You know what a good man you are."

Satoru laughs, weak, and tilts his head to kiss Suguru's nose. He turns the water down when all the bubbles come off of their skin, and he squirms when Suguru pinches him. He splashes Suguru one last time before turning the water completely off, laughing like they're teenagers in the sauna again. The idiots they were and still are.

They get out of the shower, drying their feet on the rug before grabbing their warmed up towels, wrapping it around each-other. Suguru laughs, rubbing his cheek on Satoru's shoulder, shoving him gently. Satoru retaliates by picking Suguru up off the floor and spinning him. Suguru screams, smacking his shoulders. "HEY–!"

Satoru laughs, delighted, grin so wide. He playfully tosses him onto their bed now, warm and ready for them, and Satoru jumps onto him. They laugh, hard, shoulders trembling and stomachs pressed together. Suguru smiles against Satoru's lips, and they kiss, slow, unwavering like the world has nothing wrong with it. Like they have all the time in the world.

They exchange a look. One. Their faces soften, a more shy look on their stupid faces. Satoru wiggles his brows.

Suguru shakes his head no, a small smirk on his face. "No, it's time for sleep. My ass is sore."

Satoru pouts quickly, but he quickly gathers Suguru up to hold him. He isn't actually disappointing, he's playing around. He's tired too. "Mm, I can't argue with you, baby. You're right. M'tired too, let's put some clothes on and cuddle to bed. Can we?"

Suguru nods, standing up now, a smile on his face.

He doesn't even glance in the mirrors direction.

He walks over to their closet, and he tosses Satoru one of his big, over-worn hoodies. It's black, a bit faded, smells like cigarettes. He also tosses Satoru soft underwear to put on.

Satoru blinks, smiling, his favorite hoodie! Well.. it isn't his, it's Suguru's. But they share clothes anyway.

He puts on the underwear sloppily, not even getting up, lifting his hips. He puts the hoodie over himself, and smiles, flapping his hands in it. Warm. Comforting. Even with the smell of cigarettes.

Suguru himself just puts on underwear and shorts, before climbing back into bed with Satoru. He turns off the big light with a stretch of his arm, and turns on the tiny warm orange nightlight they have. It helps them both stay calm, especially since Suguru has a small phobia of complete darkness. He curls up to Satoru, holding him, looking up at him.

Satoru opens his arms, gathering Suguru up, hand stroking through wet hair.

"S'gu? Can we watch digimon?" He asked, eyes big and hopeful, thinking he can finally wind down. Suguru smiles, nodding. "Yeah. Of course."

Suguru grabbed the remote, going onto the streaming website, and puts Digimon on the TV. Whatever random episode it is, he knows Satoru will watch it anyway. It helps him sleep. He lowers the volume to ~7, and puts the remote down. He holds Satoru, putting his head on his chest.

"How do you wanna lay down tonight, Satoru?"

"Mmh.. I dunno.. Anyway is fine.." he mumbled, fiddling with his hands, looking. He's obvious. He avoids eye contact, petting through Suguru's hair.

Suguru raises one brow.

"Satoru."

"…"

"You can tell me, you know. I promise I won't judge you, you know that, yeah?" Suguru said softly, thumb brushing over Satoru's lips.

Satoru nodded. His cheeks flushed. "Little spoon.."

Suguru nodded. No change on his face. He opens his arms, scooting over so Satoru could turn around. "C'mere, sweetie. Lay with me."

Satoru smiles, dorky, big, scooting over to rest his back against Suguru's chest. Legs tangle up together, eyes fluttering closed, Suguru's arms wrapping around Satoru's waist. He sighs, melting into it, pulling the blanket over them. Satoru closes his eyes.

"I love you, gorgeous." He murmurs in his hazy state, squeezing Suguru's hand tight. Loving. Presses a singular kiss to Suguru's palm.

Suguru breathes, slow, resting his chin on Satoru's shoulder. His heart stutters.

"I love you more, Satoru. Go to bed." He whispers, one hand stroking over Satoru's stomach, his own eyelids beginning to feel heavy.

Satoru falls asleep relatively quickly, melted into Suguru's warm body, body curled up like a tall shrimp in Suguru's arms. Short white hair is messy all over the place on the pillow, pale lashes making shadows underneath those tired eyes.

Suguru looks over at the mirror one last time. He breathes, slow, like he's not looking at someone unlovable anymore. For the first time in a while, he smiles – a real one, at that. Maybe he isn't so bad, maybe there's a reason why Satoru loves him so much. And he knows that he isn't ever alone, not really. Satoru's always going to be with him in his mind and heart.

The warm glow from the nightlight mixed with the moonlight outside brightens up Suguru's face. Those eyes that he hates light up, slightly wrinkled skin crinkles when he smiles as he looks at himself. He laughs to himself, arms squeezing Satoru. He sees someone beautiful now, tearing up, grays catching in the light.

He could be someone worth living for. That is, because he is. And maybe he can believe it for once.

Suguru closes his eyes, following shortly after Satoru. Breathes steadily, heart thumping against his chest as he finally falls asleep.

1:32 AM.

Goodnight, boys.