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bloody-bee-tea · 2 years ago

Text

Right

Shoko stares at Suguru with clear disbelief in her eyes.

“What?” Suguru defensively says and he has half a mind going back to his couch but he can’t.

Something tells him that today, he has to go out.

“You’re going to come with me to a party at Utahime’s? Are you serious?”

“Yes, I am,” Suguru gives back, though he feels just as confused as Shoko clearly is.

Suguru barely goes out with Shoko and especially not to parties organised by Utahime. He dislikes just how many people there are, how loud it is. But today is different. Today he knows he simply has to be there.

He doesn’t understand why, wouldn’t even know where to begin trying to explain that feeling in his chest but Suguru knows that he can’t ignore it. It’s insistent and even though nothing even happened—and nothing is going to happen, really—it almost feels as if he’s going to die if he stays home.

“Are you sick?” Shoko asks and presses the back of her hand against his forehead.

“I am not, will you stop that?” Suguru slaps her hand away with a scowl. “Can’t you just be happy that I am willing to come at all and stop it with this—” he trails off, waving a hand in the air between them.

“Promise me you’re not sick,” Shoko says, serious as anything and Suguru sighs.

“I promise.”

“Promise me you’re not under threat of death,” Shoko goes on and Suguru snorts out a laugh.

“Yeah, right, who would even threaten me?”

“Mahito,” Shoko immediately shoots back and Suguru makes a face.

Mahito certainly would if Suguru ever gave him the chance to do so.

“Right. But no. I am not being threatened.”

“You simply want to come,” Shoko says, clearly still not believing Suguru and he nods, even though it feels like a lie.

He doesn’t want to come, not really, but something tells him he has to.

“Fine. Everyone will be happy to see you there,” Shoko says with a shrug, finally accepting that Suguru tags along out of his own free will today.

“Sure,” Suguru gives back, because even though he knows the crowd Shoko hangs out with, he’s not particularly close with any of them.

“They like you,” Shoko immediately replies. “It’s just you who’s keeping them at a distance.”

“I’m not keeping them at a distance,” Suguru replies but he can’t deny that there’s some truth to Shoko’s statement.

He likes her friends well enough as acquaintances but he feels as if something is missing to really click with them. Suguru knows that it hardly makes sense, and so he simply tries to accept that maybe he’s just really not made for people other than Shoko.

“Can we go now?” he asks before Shoko starts a second round of check-ups but even that makes her eye him curiously.

“You in a rush?” she asks and Suguru fights the urge to nod.

He is, actually, though he doesn’t know why. His entire being is screaming at him that they need to get going, that he has to be at the party sooner rather than later, but he bites his tongue.

Shoko is going to take him apart for her own curiosity if he admits to any strange feelings and he’d rather not be dissected today.

“Nah,” he drawls out, trying for bored and missing for a mile as Shoko’s narrowed eyes helpfully let him know.

“If you’re still acting like this in an hour I’m dragging you to the ER,” she threatens and Suguru gulps.

She would do it, too.

“I’m fine, I’m good, I promise,” Suguru tries to reassure her, which clearly only makes her more suspicious but she finally gets moving.

When Suguru passes the door he turns around, as if he’s going to call out for someone, just like he has done all his life even though there is no one else there with them, but today it almost feels as if there’s a name at the tip of his tongue.

The urgent feeling in his chest grows more pronounced.

“You’re such a weirdo,” Shoko mutters, predictably, because she always does when she catches him doing that but she also never can stop herself from watching Suguru stumble that very first step out of the door, as if he expected there to be more weight to one side of him and being taken off guard when there isn’t.

Today, it feels as if a body should be slung across his shoulder and Suguru’s chest aches.

“You’re weirder than you usually are today,” Shoko mumbles as they walk along the sidewalk and Suguru shrugs.

“You love me anyway,” he gives back and she bumps their shoulders together, because he’s right and they both know it.

It still doesn’t explain why Suguru feels as if someone should be laughing to his left.

~*~*~

The party is everything Suguru hates; it’s loud, it’s packed with people and there are so many lights flashing that it’s hard to make out who is who.

“Utahime said they are in the kitchen,” Shoko says, checking her messages again and Suguru suppresses a sigh when he follows her.

That feeling in his chest is still there, but with everything going on around him, it’s hard to concentrate on it. Maybe coming here is enough and he can finally leave after greeting everyone.

Shoko leads them straight to the kitchen, which is less packed with people and also brightly lit so everyone can get their drinks and Suguru is thankful for small mercies.

“Look who I dragged out of the house,” Shoko says as she steps into the kitchen and points over her shoulder at Suguru, who immediately feels every eye land on him.

It should make him uncomfortable but instead there’s a burning inside his chest that forces him to scan the people in the room until he gets trapped by the bluest eyes he has ever seen.

“It’s you,” he breathes out and he’s filled with so much warmth that he almost chokes on it before it’s replaced by a strange feeling of pettiness, almost as if he’s supposed to add a What took you so long? which makes no sense at all because he has never before seen this guy in his life.

He’s still staring at him though and by now everyone has caught up to that fact.

“Suguru, this is Gojo,” Shoko carefully explains as if he’s a bomb that could go off at any moment if she makes the wrong move.

“Satoru, I know,” Suguru says with a nod, even though he doesn’t. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know this guy, hasn’t heard his name ever in his life before but it feels right.

It feels as if his life makes more sense for having Satoru in it now.

“I don’t—know you,” Satoru says, making his way through the crowd, his hands half raised as if he’s going to reach out for Suguru at any moment now and Suguru meets him halfway.

Their hands tangle together as if they are meant to.

“Suguru,” he simply says, not even bothering with his last name because Satoru is not going to use it anyway.

“Suguru,” Satoru repeats and Suguru never gave much thought to his name—it’s just something his parents named him and that’s what people call him.

But now, suddenly, it feels like his, it feels like his name said with Satoru’s voice encompasses everything he ever has been and ever will be.

“Ooookay, this is creepy, what is going on here?” Someone behind them asks and Satoru is still staring at Suguru, even as he answers.

“We’re going out for dinner,” he tells their friends, and Suguru is sure they must be sharing a look between them but Suguru is not yet done staring at Satoru.

He doubts he ever will be.

Suguru is entirely on board with leaving together with Satoru, but he still shakes his head. He finds he dislikes the way Satoru’s face falls immensely.

“I know a café that’s still open. Let’s go for that, instead,” he gives back because somehow he just knows that Satoru would prefer something sweet, even at this time.

He’s proven right when Satoru’s entire face lights up and Suguru fights the urge to reach out and tug glasses off Satoru’s face so he can see him better. Satoru isn’t even wearing glasses.

This entire thing should probably worry Suguru, if he’s being honest, but he can’t be bothered to give that any thought. The only thing he truly knows at the moment is that his life was empty, wrong, right until Satoru stepped into it, and he’s definitely not going to question that.

Not when Satoru’s hand is so warm in his and his eyes are making Suguru feel as if he’s drowning in the best kind of way.

“See you later,” Suguru calls out to them and gives Satoru a fond smile when his smile turns into a grin.

“Or not,” Satoru adds with a wink and then proceeds to drag Suguru out of the kitchen, out of the house and onto the sidewalk.

Suguru should protest because Satoru is awfully presumptuous but just the thought of parting with him at the end of the night has Suguru tightening his grip on Satoru’s hand, so maybe he is on to something there.

“A café, huh?” Satoru asks him and Suguru gives him a sheepish grin.

“You like that better, right?” he asks, though he’s not sure how the hell he would know this, since it’s the first time he actually met Satoru.

“I do,” Satoru admits and he makes an aborted movement as if he’s going to drape himself over Suguru’s side, but he catches himself just before he can make contact.

But Suguru is not going to let him be this hesitant so he pulls on their still clasped hands until Satoru practically falls against him and when Satoru’s weight settles there Suguru feels tethered to the ground for the first time in ages.

It seems to have broken some kind of dam for Satoru too, because suddenly he’s hanging off Suguru as if he has never done anything else and he’s chatting away, talking animatedly about everything and nothing and Suguru is more than content to listen to him as they walk.

Satoru should be too much, with his touch and his constantly running mouth, but to Suguru it simply feels right.

When they arrive at the café, lit up in warm light and with only a few people left, Satoru is still talking and it doesn’t seem as if he’s going to stop any time soon so Suguru takes it upon himself to order, all the while keeping track of what Satoru is saying.

Satoru only falls silent when Suguru rattles off a complicated, downright disgusting order and even the barista seems momentarily stunned.

“How do you know that?” Satoru quietly asks, still somewhat pressed into Suguru’s side, no regard for personal space at all it seems, at least not with Suguru.

He finds that he likes that.

“I don’t—” Suguru trails off as the barista interrupts them with their total and Suguru hands over the money before Satoru can.

“Let’s sit down first,” he then says, nudging Satoru into a corner with an empty table and a little less light.

“I—” Suguru starts again, looking down at their still clasped hands and suddenly he feels as if he’s going to cry. “I have missed you,” he breathes out, even though it makes no sense because he would remember meeting someone like Satoru.

The hair and the eyes alone are a dead giveaway and make it impossible to ever forget him.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” Suguru then admits and Satoru hums thoughtfully.

“You—know things about me,” he finally says and there is not a hint of the accusation Suguru would expect.

“It feels as if I’ve known you all my life,” Suguru admits. “Your coffee order really is the least of it, I think.”

He can’t think of anything off the top of his head right now but he’s sure if Satoru asked him about his favourite candy, or fruit, or pizza topic, about his favourite movie or game, he would know it all.

“I’m sorry, I know this is weird,” Suguru says when Satoru stays quiet but neither of them take their hand back.

Suguru isn’t sure what that means.

“It’s not the same for me,” Satoru finally tells him. “I don’t know things about you.”

Suguru’s heart falls at hearing that but before he can truly spiral Satoru squeezes his hand.

“But—you feel like home,” he confesses in a whisper. “It feels as if all my life I’ve been running only to come home to you. It feels as if every time I come home, you should be behind the door to greet me, as if I’m meant to fall asleep with you curled around me, as if your voice is the first and last thing I should hear every day.” He takes a deep breath. “I don’t know what that means.”

“It means we stay together,” Suguru says because even though this entire situation is strange, that is one thing he is certain about.

He’s not going to let Satoru slip through his fingers.

And when Satoru tightly holds on to him, Suguru knows that Satoru feels the same.

“I don’t think I could let you leave again, anyway,” Satoru admits with a little laugh and Suguru wants to kiss him.

It feels as if he has been missing Satoru his entire life and seeing him in person now, touching him and hearing him laugh like that feels like the sweetest relief.

“Do you think this is like a previous life thing?” Satoru asks, interrupting Suguru’s thoughts, and he thinks that over for a moment.

“Maybe,” he eventually says. “Or maybe we just belong together. Like in that Greek myth about how people are created as two joined humans with one soul who were then split in half, forever in search of their other half. Maybe you’re my other half.”

It should feel cheesy saying something like that to a person he has only known for an hour but as soon as the words leave Suguru’s mouth he knows they are true.

He and Satoru belong together and Satoru is his other half.

“Only if you’re my better half,” Satoru says with a cheeky grin and Suguru snorts.

“That’s a given, you’re too abrasive to be the good half,” he jokes back, not quite knowing where he takes that knowledge from but certain that it’s true nonetheless

“Rude, Suguru, so rude,” Satoru gasps out, shaping Suguru’s name in a way that will make him addicted to it.

It sets them off again, leaving the how’s and why’s of this connection between them behind them in favour of talking about everything and nothing, and even though Suguru feels as if every little bit that is revealed about Satoru is already something he knew deep down, he soaks up every word that leaves Satoru’s lips.

They spend the rest of the night together like this; talking and touching, with an overwhelming feeling of rightness lodged deep in their chests.

And when Suguru goes home with Satoru and never leaves again they don’t even think about it, because that too, is only right.

#bt writes #jjk #satosugu #stsg #geto suguru #gojo satoru #reincarnation #or maybe soulmates #no curses #fated to be #fluff #getting together

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