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dantheserialkillerman · 5 months

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Dan Hiroki X GN!Childhood Friend Reader Pt. 2

Contains: Continuing story and Gender Neutral Reader General warning: Long-post TW: Possessiveness/Suicide/Implied grooming

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful crow. Her wings were like the tips of quills freshly dipped, and her claws sharper than the hook of a fisherman's rod—a perfect little bird. Everywhere she went, the forest's creatures would glance at her in astonishment and envy; no owl, robin or dove could compare. The crow knew this and, for a time, enjoyed their praise. What was love, if not the wish to capture? The desire to own what you could not own yourself? Yet, as the days went by, she could not help but feel unsatisfied, for none would approach her, and, eventually, she found herself an idle idol. That was until, one fateful morning, a hunter entered the wood. The man searched far and wide for the perfect game but would deem all beasts crossing his path too dull, ordinary, and a waste of his talents. His frustrations grew until his eyes fell upon the beautiful crow. Having never seen such perfection, the man raised his gun and decided such magnificence could not exist without his consent. In that final breath, staring down the barrel of the rifle, the crow realized a terrible truth: She had finally experienced her first and last act of true love.

You would like to think you will meet again one day, perhaps in a better place, surrounded by the fragrance of the buna tree.

A memory:

Under the branches, as the rain fell, he leaned his head against your shoulders: "Do you love me?" "Only in summer."

There is a strange beauty in defeat. To give up and to let go is an art so painful and euphoric that few can ever master the discipline. Yet, you could not help but try. You had to say goodbye to a bit of life, an old name, to live once again. Sometimes, still, you could smell the hints of a campfire if you closed your eyes for long enough.

After finishing university and moving away from your relative who took you in, you travelled around Japan for a while. It took years to get used to the constant hustle and bustle of the world, and you often felt displaced in the city's hectic life compared to the countryside you grew up in. However, life had finally returned to a somewhat more peaceful state. Not exactly familiar, but it was a softer difference. Recently, you were appointed as a history teacher in a small-town high school. It was a safer career than you had once dreamed of, but it would keep you hidden. That's all that mattered. You enjoyed the mountains near the town.

When you first arrived, some things were unexpectedly painful. The starting months felt like a constant exorcism, a battle not to jump and think you summoned the ghosts of old friends whenever a student came up to ask a question. But the pain was comforting in a way. They had lived and affected the world around them. Even if it was silently, you could carry their legacy and find forgiveness in supplying a future to others. A future they were denied. This was your cleansing.

The students on their end were pleasant, consistently hard-working and upbeat. And, of course, over time, you developed favourites: the creative Hana Kai, the outspoken Yuki Yamamoto, and, especially, the thoughtful Nanami Shirakawa.

Strangely, even with your reservations about closeness, you became rather popular, even finding, at the end of some classes, notes left on your desk:

Dear Teacher, Thank you for the class. Dear Teacher, I am glad you are feeling better. Dear Teacher, Please smile more often.

Despite years of developing a numb compliance with life, you could not help but feel touched. It was nice to be liked and somewhat accepted back into a community, even if it was only a false image they loved.

However, you could not help but wonder what they would do if they knew that one of their favourite teachers, at night, away from their wool sweaters and bad jokes, dreamt of stone cottages and warm summers? How could they understand how your mind was captured by the sea and the calling of the woods? Even worse, you couldn't imagine their judgment if they knew of the gray eyes that haunted your subconscious. A demon. Shuten-dōji with a laugh:

I could just die for you. I could just kill for you. And I could just love you until the end. I am you, and you are me. Cut off my head, and I'll grow another on the back of your mind.

You would wake in terror and yearning. Most nights, you could not go back to sleep. Instead, you would find yourself sitting at the kitchen table, marking or reading anything to suppress the sweet evil lurking behind your fantasies. You had to forget before you lost yourself to dreams.

In the waking world, you distracted yourself with a growing hatred for the biology teacher, Taisuke Henkyoji. In all fairness, it appeared he despised you in return when it became clear you would not fawn over him.

He was from a wealthy family with designer clothes, fancy watches, and a carefree attitude. His name was seen everywhere, from the hospital where his brother, Kusuke, worked as the chairman to the only hotel within town. It was a world so far removed from small village roots, worn clothes, and scuffed shoes that you wondered if you could even find it on a metaphorical map.

However, you could not help but see how he only possessed a dull attractiveness, only passively acknowledged until placed in a position of power. Therefore, it didn't surprise you that he was popular among teenage girls. Yet, out of all those teenagers, you could not help but worry about one in particular. The thoughtful Nanami Shirakawa, who was awkward and sweet, with big dreams and an introverted personality, which reminded you of someone you had to bury so long ago.

Sometimes, you would catch her absent-mindedly doodling hearts in her notebook or fiddling with her phone with a wistful smile. Other times, while walking the halls, you would pass her peaking into Henkyoji's classroom. It was clear she was infatuated with the man.

It was a worrying love. Innaproate and not helped by Henkyoji's overly friendly and even disturbingly flirtatious behaviour. You had even tried to warn him of Nanami's feelings:

"You need to shut her down gently, Henkyoji-san. This whole situation is unhealthy." "And you care, why? Jealous?"

Of what? That comment made you immediately uncomfortable. You tried to go to the principal, who also quickly dismissed your concerns:

"Henkyoji-san is from a highly regarded family. Such a suggestion could sully not only their image but the school's reputation," - a sigh- "There is nothing to worry about, Y/N... especially if the only evidence you have is an off-hand comment and the crush of a teenage girl. Please, don't bring this topic up again."

Yet, it echoed in your mind when you noticed how sullen Shirakawa had started to become. There was a growing dullness behind her eyes, a letting go that was much like yours. You could see a dangerous defeatism.

After class one day, as you saw the young girl merely gaze at her desk the entire lesson, neither moving to take notes nor really paying attention, you decided it would best to ask her to talk:

" Shirakawa-Kun, I just wanted to know if you are feeling okay," You tried to smile empathically, "I know it can be awkward talking to your teacher." "I am sorry, " she rubbed her eyes harshly. " I am just drained." You could see the fear behind her expression. An invisible subject, something cold and dead whose images reflected back a once firey disposition that burnt itself out into ash. "Shirakawa-Kun, I apologize for being so direct, but I know something is wrong." "I really am okay," she paused for a second, fiddling with her bag, "I really have to get home...my mother needs me to help...she'll be worried if I am held up for too long." You sighed, realizing any further conversation was a losing battle, "This may seem unorthodox...but please take my number," you pulled out a piece of paper and began to write, "If you need someone to talk to, call me, and we can set up a time to meet in my office." "Thank you." She took what you handed her with a slight reluctance and placed it in her pocket "Please, even if it's not me, know you do not have to handle this alone. I know what it's like to feel the world crashing into you. I promise."

You closed your eyes as she left and sighed. I know what it's like to love and fear someone in the same breath. I know what it's like to be alone.

It was easy to imagine him there next to you, as you often did, clothed in black, in a nice jacket, and without colour save for his red lips. Ah, what would you do? Is this what you felt like? Fragmented?

You could not sleep that night. Sitting at your kitchen table, reading, until at 1 A.M, a single message appeared on your phone:

Dear Teacher, Thx for everything. It was nice to know someone cares. I hope you have a good night. -Shirakawa

When morning came, you were unsurprised that Shirakawa was absent from class. However, you could not have imagined the reason the headmaster pulled you out of your homeroom.

"Why would she try to kill herself?" "She's a teenager, Y/N! I have no idea why she would do such a thing; I just called you in to let you know about the situation. Do not discuss this with anyone but the staff." "It was him, wasn't it..." "I said not to bring such a topic up again!" "You can't ignore this forever! Please, just listen to me!" "Go. Back. To. Class. We will pretend this never happened."

Guilt spread throughout your body as if you were drowning. How could you have turned away? Why did you not write back? You felt yourself transform into a frightful and hideous creature that had been tied to the buna tree so many years ago. A coward. A failure. Another child almost died because you didn't act fast enough. Kikue. Reo. I'm sorry.

You had cut class early that day and ran to the hospital. My fault. It's all my fault. You needed to apologize in person. You needed to ask Shirakawa. You needed to know the truth. Fuck Taisuke Henkyoji.

Dishevelled, sweating, and breathless, you ran to the front desk and requested the room number.

"Are you...okay?" "Please, I'm here to see Nanami Shirakawa," - a breath- " I'm one of her teachers," The woman at the desk looked annoyed, "Well, you're lucky. It seems she's currently taking visitors; let me phone up the room...I'm not paid enough for this-" A voice...soft... melodious...that itched your memory interrupted, "Is everything alright here?" No...You could not speak. Your throat refused to open. The world swam for a second. "Sir, were just up to see Ms. Shirakawa?" He was beautiful. He looked just like him. "Yes, she seems to be doing...well...as one would expect in such a situation." "Hmmm," she hummed, uninterested, "Sorry to ask this of you as a civilian, but since you are here, could you please assist...who were you again?" "Shirakawa's history teacher," You replied shakingly. It's not him. It cannot be him. "Your name?" The woman rolled her eyes. You took a deep breath. You had changed your name when you lived with your relative. You were not you anymore, even if it was him somehow, "Y/N." "Y/N?" The man turned to you fully. Shuten-dōji. He looked like your Shuten-dōji, "What a..." He paused as if startled before quickly composing himself, "Lovely name..." "It's pretty common," He looked at you with such intensity you thought the ground would swallow you up. It can't be him. It wouldn't make sense for him to be here. You were literally in the middle of nowhere. The lady at the desk signed, "Well, you two are very sweet, but if you could kindly take Y/N up to see Shirakawa, that would be very helpful. I have to talk another call...so..." The man gave the woman a bland smile and beckoned you to follow him. You could feel the sweat build upon the back of your neck; his grey eyes followed you like a snake to a mouse, refusing to let you out of his sight. "You didn't ask me for my name," "I'm sorry?" "My name, would you like to know it?" "Oh, my apologies. I'm just a bit scattered today," "That's understandable, considering..." "Yes, considering I would like to know your name." The man laughed and mumbled, "You sound just like them...look just like them... you could even think," A distant look filled his expression, "It's like looking at a photograph," He seemed to catch himself, "Ah, sorry, I had a close friend that left me many years ago; I lost myself for a moment. I believe we are both scattered today." You wanted to change the subject as soon as possible. A coincidence. It has to be. The world wouldn't be so cruel. The Kirin would not be so cruel. "How do know Shirakawa-kun?" "I saved her from drowning." "What?!" "I'm a very strong swimmer." He glanced at you with subtle amusement, and then a look of distant grief entered his eyes. "My name is Dan Hiroki." You stopped. No. "Is something wrong?" Yes. Something is very fucking wrong. "Oh, it's nothing...It's been just a long day..." You needed to leave as soon as possible, "Actually, I just remembered I forgot something at home-" "Hmmm," He hummed as if thinking, "I think you should see Shirakawa-kun." He stopped and grabbed your arm as if trying to ensure you could not flee. His grey eyes, searching as if trying to figure something out, "I fear she needs all the moral support she can get right now." You bit your lip hard, thinking of a way to escape this. Fuck. What if he recognized you? What would he do? A man capable of killing without remorse, you shivered just imagining the type of torture he would inflict. How could you leave without looking suspicious? "It..." Shit. "Your right. However, I really can't stay for long." He continued to walk, not letting go of your arm, until stopping before the elevator, "You really do look just like them...It's been so long...ah, memories... memories, a cruel mistress." "I can't imagine," the evaluator dinged. "Fufu, for some reason," He pulled you inside, "I feel like you might," You could feel the red string of fate being pulled, "Yes, I would love to get to know you, Y/N."

You would like to think you would have met again one day, perhaps in a better place, surrounded by the fragrance of the buna tree. You never thought you would meet in a hospital. You never thought he wouldn't recognize you.

A memory:

"Please don't cut off my head, Minamoto no Yorimitsu" "I promise, but only in summer."

One day, you thought you would meet again, surrounded by summer.

A memory:

"Tell him I died. He would come looking for me otherwise. You know why I am asking this. Don't let me bring you shame. Please let me go."

The ride is silent until the final ding. He smiles at you once you reach the right floor.

A memory:

"Y/N, wait for me next summer?" "You know I always will be here.

His left eye twitches and his smile grows.

"Shall we go see your student?" He pulls your arm gently, his now fully lopped with your own. "I don't think I have much of a choice." "Be careful, Y/N," He chuckles darkly, "I might just grow fond of you." "There is nothing to be fond of." You walked out together and felt his hand tighten around your bicep as if worried you would run away.

A memory:

A place filled with tiny stone houses, crumbling temples, and giant windmills with rotor blades like dragons' teeth, gnawing away at the occasional gale. "Do you believe in the Kirin?" "I believe humans are cruel, and Gods are crueller."

The red string of fate tugged again as you headed towards the hospital room and into an unknown future.

You fear Dan would never let you go if he discovered your true identity. You feared much worse than death. There truly is a strange beauty in defeat.

A memory:

This was your home. All you could ever want. "Hey, Y/N, look up! There's a flock of crows." "Actually, I think it's called a murder."

#Just a fun add on #Thought it would be fun to see where Y/N and Dan would be 10 years later #brutal: confessions of a homicide investigator #Long fic #hiroki dan #brutal manga #brutal: satsujin kansatsukan no kokuhaku #manga #brutal hiroki dan #brutal satsujin kansatsukan no kokuhaku #brutal: hiroki dan #hiroki dan x reader #gender neutral y/n #y/n #horror #self insert #TW suicide #tw death #tw depression

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bloody-bee-tea · 1 month

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IntiMarch 2024 Day 23 - Together

The prompt for this was "Thank you for taking care of me"

Suguru feels rage bubble up inside of him when Yaga slides two stacks of papers towards Satoru and him.

“Your new missions,” he says, not meeting their eyes because he damn well knows how fucking wrong this is and Suguru’s fingers itch with the need to call on a curse.

The stacks are high enough to guarantee work until at least the end of next week and apparently he and Satoru are being split up again.

Suguru expected that eventually, but they just fought for the right to stay together and to have it thrown into their faces like that, to see that the Elders can do whatever the fuck they want is really upsetting.

He opens his mouth, not even sure what he’s going to say to Yaga when Satoru puts his hand to the small of Suguru’s back.

“Absolutely not,” Satoru says, and he sounds just as angry as Suguru feels.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Yaga demands to know.

“That means that we’re not going to do that. It was agreed upon that Suguru and I would go on missions together.”

“The workload doesn’t allow that,” Yaga says and it sounds so damn rehearsed that Suguru wants to break something.

He knew they wouldn’t take this well.

“The workload,” Satoru mockingly repeats. “That’s absolute bullshit. You want to tell me all of these are Grade One or higher?” he asks and defiantly raises his chin at Yaga. “Because it was also agreed upon that Suguru and I would only bother with those kind of curses.”

“You know that ever since you were born—” Yaga starts but Satoru doesn’t even let him finish whatever bullshit is going to come out of his mouth.

“Don’t even start,” he hisses. “You managed fine for seventeen years. There’s no way these curses are suddenly starting to crop up like this. There’s no way.”

“Satoru,” Yaga warily says but Satoru is on a roll now and in all honesty, Suguru is enjoying the show, so when Yaga turns towards him, clearly expecting help, Suguru only crosses his arms in front of his chest and leans into Satoru’s hand on his back.

It’s reassuring to know that they are on the same page about this and that Satoru is not leaving him behind, like he thought after the mess with Toji.

“We’ll take these on,” Satoru finally says, a thoughtful note to his voice. “Together. But if there is one curse in there that is below a Grade One, Suguru and I take three months off.”

Yaga winces, clearly damn well knowing that at least three-fourths of these are going to be that. The Grade One and Special Grade curses have been getting stronger lately, but there’s no way in hell that two dozens of them have suddenly popped up out of nowhere.

“The grading system doesn’t allow for a more accurate grading,” Yaga says, clearly not even believing his own words and Satoru huffs out an annoyed breath.

“Then get a fucking better one. You can’t keep sending us out for this bullshit, especially not when Haibara and Kento are right there. They need experience, too. When was the last time you sent them on a mission?”

“The Elders—” Yaga starts but Satoru doesn’t let him get further than that.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. If they want to be active so bad, send them out on a mission for all that I care. We’re done here. Grade these properly, give us one stack, and we’ll go, but otherwise good luck with finding someone suitable, I guess,” Satoru decides and turns around to Suguru. “Lunch?”

“There’s that new restaurant just down-town,” Suguru says, ignoring Yaga and his piercing look because Suguru really couldn’t care less.

He almost walked away once and he only stayed because of Satoru and the compromises they squeezed out of the Elders and he’s not about to let them bully him or Satoru into the same shit again.

“I know! They make their food extra spicy, I already checked that,” Satoru excitedly says and Suguru frowns.

“You don’t like spicy food.”

“No, but you do! I bet you’ll like it there, come on, I’m hungry now, talking to morons always has that effect,” he says, much louder and when Suguru looks back at Yaga, he sees him frowning.

Suguru almost feels bad because he knows that Yaga is stuck between a rock and a hard place with the Elders and them, but the misgrading of a curse almost cost Haibara his life and Satoru and Suguru cannot be responsible for all of the work, not if they are supposed to reach past twenty.

It’s a shitty system—and Yaga agrees on that, Suguru knows—and it desperately needs changing but if Satoru and he don’t stand firm on their stances, then nothing will ever happen.

And that sadly means that Yaga bears the brunt of everyone’s anger at the moment but Suguru is willing to take that.

“It’s not his fault,” Suguru quietly says even though by then they are far enough away from him that there’s no chance Yaga can hear them but Satoru only shrugs.

“But he’s not providing a solution either,” Satoru gives back and Suguru has to agree.

There probably are some things Yaga could do or try, but he decides to stay inactive and that is not something either of them can overlook.

“Now stop thinking about it, we have the day off and I intend to enjoy it,” Satoru says, bumping their shoulders together and smiling brightly at Suguru. “Lets get you your unbearably spicy food.”

“Just because you’re a wimp doesn’t mean it’s unbearable,” Suguru shoots back, already feeling lighter because he knows that Satoru always has his back.

He doesn’t know what he’d do if Satoru weren’t by his side.

~*~*~

Suguru is hit by a severe bout of depression not even a week later and he fully blames Yaga and his stupid stack of missions. Just the thought of having to go out, of having to go fight for something he no longer even believes in makes him want to cry and so one day he simply doesn’t get out of bed.

It takes Satoru around an hour to realise that something is wrong, and he already seems to expect the sight of Suguru still curled up on his bed when he sticks his head into the room.

“Bad day?” he asks, his voice quieter than usual and Suguru can’t even find it in him to answer.

Satoru comes closer, until he can squat down right in front of Suguru, arms resting on the bed and propping his head up there.

“Can I do something?” he asks, even though by now they know that nothing really helps.

Suguru will just have to ride it out and then in a few days, things might look better again. Or they might not, but despite everything, Suguru doesn’t allow himself to think like that.

He mutely shakes his head in answer to Satoru’s question and Satoru reaches out to push his hair out of his face.

“Alright. I’ll bring you some food and something to drink. I’ll do the missions we had planned today, but I’ll be back around early afternoon. Sound good?”

It doesn’t, because it sounds as if Suguru’s inability to get a grip is making Satoru go out there alone, is making him take on a workload that is meant to be shared and Suguru feels so guilty for it.

“Stop it,” Satoru says and flicks Suguru’s forehead which makes him frown. “It’s fine. A day or three of this won’t kill me and before we know it, you’ll be back on your feet. And if not, then we’ll figure out something else. Yaga is still looking for a psychologist, you know, it’ll be fine.”

It doesn’t sound as if things will be fine, because Yaga could not find one yet, Suguru could be like this for the next month, Satoru could die but he forces himself to nod anyway.

“People pleaser,” Satoru grumbles, because he knows Suguru too well to be fooled by him and with one last tap to Suguru’s forehead he gets up. “I’ll get you something to eat and then I’ll go, so I can annoy you again sooner. Be right back!”

He doesn’t wait for Suguru’s answer before he dashes off and it’s not as if Suguru would have had an answer anyway. He doesn’t feel like eating and he knows that Satoru does not want to hear that at all, so it’s not as if he could have said something.

When Satoru comes back it’s with water and some snacks; nothing that needs preparing, nothing that needs to be eaten hot, only things Suguru can plop into his mouth without having to think about it and just for that alone he wants to cry.

Satoru really is too good to him.

“Thanks,” he manages when Satoru puts everything down and even though Suguru feels even more exhausted afterwards, the bright smile Satoru gives him is definitely worth it.

“Be good now, I’ll be back before you know it,” Satoru says, patting his head and then simply leaving Suguru to while away in bed.

And whiling he does. He makes sure to at least eat a few of the snacks Satoru brought him if only because he knows Satoru counted them and will be even more worried if Suguru doesn’t touch them at all but otherwise, Suguru can’t bring himself to do anything.

It stays like that for longer than Suguru would like because in his eyes even a day of this is too long but when it moves past the five day mark, Suguru starts to spot the worry in Satoru’s face as well.

The worry—and the exhaustion.

He’s still going on missions, still doing what should normally be done by the two of them and it makes Suguru incredibly guilty because it’s not as if he has a real reason to simply stay in bed, except his fucked up brain.

When Satoru comes into his room on the sixth day, paler than usual, his smile not even reaching his eyes, Suguru decides that his fucked up brain can fucking shut it.

It’s enough.

“How are we feeling today?” Satoru asks, the same as always, as he goes to kneel by Suguru’s side, but this time, Suguru snatches his wrist in his hand and pulls Satoru into the bed as well.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Satoru asks, clearly surprised but Suguru doesn’t answer him, too busy getting him under the covers and cuddling him close.

“We’re going to stay here today,” he tells Satoru when he’s satisfied by their positions and since they are laying down face to face he can see the frown on Satoru’s face.

“Suguru, I can’t do that. I have to go out, there are missions that have to be done.”

Suguru shakes his head and silences Satoru with his hand when he wants to argue.

“Satoru, you’re running yourself ragged. I appreciate the fact that you’re trying to take on my workload too but—not like this. Not if it means you’ll run yourself into the ground. I can do my own shares of missions again.”

Satoru tries to speak but Suguru’s hand stops him and he only lowers it when Satoru licks his palm.

“Bah, you’re disgusting,” Suguru complaints but Satoru only gives him a wide grin.

It seems threatening and so much more like Satoru than the expression he wore when he came into the room that alone the sight is enough to make Suguru breathe more easily.

“Are you sure, Suguru? Do you feel up to it again?” Satoru wants to know and instead of answering Suguru moves closer still to Satoru, until he’s able to hide his face away in his neck.

He must smell awful by now because he can’t remember when Satoru made him last take a shower, but Satoru doesn’t complain and only slings his arms around Suguru’s middle.

In all honesty, Suguru doesn’t feel up to going on missions again but—

“You’re exhausted,” he whispers out and Satoru is about to deny that when Suguru goes on. “My problem is that sometimes, I don’t see the sense in all of this. What use is there for us to go on missions when a new curse or twelve are simply going to crop up the next day?” he asks and he doesn’t expect Satoru to answer because there is no answer to that. “But if I do it to help you—that’s different. I think—I think I can work with that.”

“To help me?” Satoru asks for clarification and Suguru nods.

“To make sure that you don’t overwork yourself, that you’re fine and not working yourself to the bone. I can go on missions if it makes things easier for you.”

“Aw, Suguru, I knew you cared,” Satoru happily says and nuzzles the top of Suguru’s head.

“No, but for real, Satoru,” Suguru says and moves away so he can really look at Satoru. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“Huh? What the hell are you on about, you’re the one who is taking care of me right now!”

“Yeah, right now, maybe,” Suguru agrees. “But without you, I wouldn’t still be here. I would have left long ago, after that thing with Toji, and it’s just because of you that I’m still here.”

“But I didn’t even do anything?” Satoru asks, his confusion adorably visible on his face and Suguru smiles.

“You’re Satoru. And you’re here; that’s all I needed. I’m here because you’re here. I didn’t leave back then because I knew if I did, I wouldn’t have you in my life anymore.”

They don’t really talk about that time anymore, apart from having to remind everyone what the concessions of the Elders were so Satoru goes quiet and his eyes go even bigger.

“And if it means I can spend more time with you now and help you in any way, then I can go on missions. Just—not today. Today you’ll rest and recharge and then tomorrow we’ll double down on the work Yaga gave us.”

“Suguru,” Satoru whispers and he sounds suspiciously choked up.

Before Suguru can try to say anything else, Satoru leans in to bring their lips together. It makes Suguru freeze for a moment, before he reels back. Satoru’s face falls in a way Suguru never wants to see again and so he moves closer again, though he does keep a bit of distance between them.

“I haven’t showered in days, Satoru, I’m filthy,” he explains and he doesn’t even want to think about when he last brushed his teeth.

He’s an absolute disgusting mess and Satoru really shouldn’t have to deal with him like that.

“So you don’t—mind?” Satoru carefully asks and Suguru almost gives himself vertigo he shakes his head so fast.

“Of course not. Satoru, did you not listen? I’m here for you. You are my reason for doing things, you’ll be the reason I even get out of this bed tomorrow. I love you. Of course I don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind, either,” Satoru says and it takes Suguru a moment to understand that he’s talking about Suguru’s general state of being.

Suguru does care about that, he can’t deny that, but getting up now to brush his teeth or even quickly wash himself down still seems like too much work, especially when Satoru is looking at him with that pleading look.

“Fine, but I don’t want to hear any complaints,” Suguru mutters and steals the answer right from Satoru’s lips.

It can’t really be pleasant for Satoru, but he doesn’t say anything and instead enthusiastically returns the kiss. And then comes back for a second one. And a third.

“Okay, okay, I get it, you don’t care,” Suguru finally laughs out and in that moment Satoru seems so content that it takes Suguru’s breath away.

“I love your laugh,” he says simply, and just for that Suguru vows to laugh much more often in the future.

It’s an easy vow to make with Satoru warm and soft and loving in his arms and it’s even easier to let Satoru taste that laugh right from the source.

Today, they’ll spend the day like this—and maybe Suguru will even get up to shower—and tomorrow they will tackle the new day, but no matter what—they’ll do it together.

#bt writes #jjk #satosugu #geto suguru #gojo satoru #canon divergence #geto suguru does not defect #hurt/comfort #depression #codependency #love confessions #getting together

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