[ the things it does to him, this whole killing business.
suguru has once said that he is kinder of them both, with the implication that satoru is fully capable of carrying out cold-blooded, calculated acts -- he has demonstrated that on several occasions, but suguru also knows that gojo satoru is ultimately only human where it counts, and that the unbearable weight of killing the only best friend you have is quite something.
he's seen the quiet devastation in his face when he'd been dying, learned that even in his death, satoru, precious satoru, had not even given his body over to the higher ups. sentiment, perhaps, for someone who doesn't deserve it.
he can feel him shaking, that familiar, welcome weight above him a reminder that satoru is still a man, and his hands come to rest on his hips before his arms come to wrap around him. it's a raw, pivotal moment, this vulnerability that he displays in the darkest of the night. is it just a dream, he wonders?
maybe he's dreaming, too, and satoru is simply privy to the yearning of a dying man's last thoughts. but satoru feels real, and his heart hurts for him too sharply to be some sort of fantasy. he runs his fingers through his hair in silence as he parts his mouth for him, taking his desperation, kissing him back, tongue sliding sweetly against his.
he gives him the comfort he seeks, shaking his head in between kisses. he leads him into another kiss, and another, a third. ]
You're not. I'm here. [ another kiss. another. he draws the last one out longer, gently gripping his hair to tug, as a reminder of his presence. so he wants him back so badly, huh? ]
I'm here with you, Satoru. Right now, you're wide awake in a brand new world with me, and we're kissing, and we're pretending this is what friends do. I'm pretty sure even you can't actually dream up how annoying I can be.
[ ...and so he pinches his inner thigh suddenly. just because. see? annoying. can screwed up coping mechanisms pinch you suddenly in the soft spot and remind you of their shared denial? they can't. dryly, he murmurs, teasing him to keep him anchored, to keep his satoru here, with him: ] Give this a few more weeks, maybe you'll really want me gone, then.
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Date: 2023-03-29 07:38 am (UTC)suguru has once said that he is kinder of them both, with the implication that satoru is fully capable of carrying out cold-blooded, calculated acts -- he has demonstrated that on several occasions, but suguru also knows that gojo satoru is ultimately only human where it counts, and that the unbearable weight of killing the only best friend you have is quite something.
he's seen the quiet devastation in his face when he'd been dying, learned that even in his death, satoru, precious satoru, had not even given his body over to the higher ups. sentiment, perhaps, for someone who doesn't deserve it.
he can feel him shaking, that familiar, welcome weight above him a reminder that satoru is still a man, and his hands come to rest on his hips before his arms come to wrap around him. it's a raw, pivotal moment, this vulnerability that he displays in the darkest of the night. is it just a dream, he wonders?
maybe he's dreaming, too, and satoru is simply privy to the yearning of a dying man's last thoughts. but satoru feels real, and his heart hurts for him too sharply to be some sort of fantasy. he runs his fingers through his hair in silence as he parts his mouth for him, taking his desperation, kissing him back, tongue sliding sweetly against his.
he gives him the comfort he seeks, shaking his head in between kisses. he leads him into another kiss, and another, a third. ]
You're not. I'm here. [ another kiss. another. he draws the last one out longer, gently gripping his hair to tug, as a reminder of his presence. so he wants him back so badly, huh? ]
I'm here with you, Satoru. Right now, you're wide awake in a brand new world with me, and we're kissing, and we're pretending this is what friends do. I'm pretty sure even you can't actually dream up how annoying I can be.
[ ...and so he pinches his inner thigh suddenly. just because. see? annoying. can screwed up coping mechanisms pinch you suddenly in the soft spot and remind you of their shared denial? they can't. dryly, he murmurs, teasing him to keep him anchored, to keep his satoru here, with him: ] Give this a few more weeks, maybe you'll really want me gone, then.