your boyfriend hates boy best friend satoru! he says you’re too close and that best friends don’t “kiss like that” or “touch like that,” but satoru, your ever-so-loving boy(friend) always reassures you, telling you that your boyfriend is nothing but a liar who’s trying to take you away from your truest and greatest love—him.
“he’s weird, baby,” your boyfriend says seemingly out of the blue. you’re both in your room right now, literally just chilling and having a great time—well, great for him until you mentioned satoru. you muttered something about having a sleepover with satoru next friday, and now, your boyfriend, who’s usually a huge sweetheart, is about to go on a ballistic rant rampage.
“satoru? weird? in what way?” you decide to take the bait and chomp down whatever wound he’s about to flesh out. the boy now stands in your room like he’s about to give his final presentation of the academic year. it’s laughable, really. “you’re a great girl, y/n. you really are. but… I can’t help but feel irked by your relationship with gojo.”
“could you tell me why,” you reply calmly and your boyfriend nods, taking a deep breath as he’s about to speak. “okay, okay,” he starts. “I think it’s weird that he’s always over, doesn’t even knock on your door—he’s just… just there! what if he walks in on you changing, right?” then let him look, duh. you think to yourself. he moves his hands freely as if signaling just how crazy your tolerance of the white-haired “creep” is.
“and the way he always kisses you, hugs you, and touches you! I’m your boyfriend, and yet I don’t do that in front of your parents, but he does… it’s weird because, why am I not allowed to do that, but he is? right?” he looks at you, desperate for confirmation—wanting you go agree with him for once.
side with the resistance. please.
but you don’t. and your boyfriend knows you don’t. he just watches as you nod. “really? that’s all you’re going to give me?” he says with a face full of crushed hope.
“what do you want me to say?” you raise an eyebrow at the poor guy, who’s just vying to be the one to capture your attention. god, he doesn’t even understand how you’ve gotten him so hooked on your entire existence.
“side with me. tell me you hate satoru. tell me he forces those kisses and hugs on you. tell me he makes you uncomfortable.” then I’ll beat him up with a smirk on my face all for you.
“I don’t lie,” you deadpan, and his heart shatters.
finally, he sits on your bed then sighs, chest aching like never before. “shit, I should’ve listened to toji…”
“what?” you ask, confused. toji? toji zenin? how random. “when I told him I liked you, he made a passing joke about how you whored yourself out for satoru.”
“so you think I’m a whore?” your expression turns deathly serious. satoru would never call you a whore. maybe in bed but that’s different.
your boyfriend rolls his eyes. “yeah? you probably slept with satoru, based on how much you defend him. he pay you with sex?”
you hum with a smile that says “how ludicrous.” then, his attitude flips again. “wait—you did… didn’t you?” he clarifies, his insecurities once again taking over. though, to be fair, you are aware that you may have triggered it. scratch that, you definitely did.
“if you count rounds, a couple of times. if not, just thrice, every birthday since I turned sixteen!” you chirp as if you weren’t metaphorically punching him in the gut right now. “you’re crazy… you’re both crazy,” he says in return, taking a step back with considerable trepidation.
“god, for all I know, he’s in the fucking closet stalking us right now, and you know!” he all but screams. then, he grabs his stuff and heads for your door. “we’re over!”
you tell satoru the moment your boyfriend—well, ex, left in tears. dialing his number, you look over his picture on the poster. you and him during a halloween party wearing a cheesy couple’s costume. you and him were only twelve then. then, the line connects. “come over, ‘toru… ‘m sad…” you pout, knowing your expression transcends the supposed phone call. “my boyfriend broke up with me,” you add.
he chuckles, knowing exactly the look written on your pretty face. “okay, princess, I will. just a few more reps, okay? what snacks do you want? we can munch while you rant about your crazy ex, ‘kay?”
“mhm, okay. spicy chips please and thank you, satoo!” you giggle. “okay, baby. I’ll get there in less than an hour. is auntie and uncle home?” he asks, referring to your parents.
“no, they flew to the states earlier, they said they had some business to attend to in chicago then new york,” you shrug while picking at the loose thread of your comforter. “hm, okay. I’ll sleepover then, yeah?” he suggests so casually.
“but what if they get mad this time?” I ask nervously.
he laughs like your whole dilemma was pointless. “bunny, when have they ever gotten mad about that? they love it when we spend time with each other.” then, he adds “y’know what I think?”
“what?”
“they probably arranged us with each other as kids, our moms intentionally got pregnant in the same year after all…” he whispers low against his cell’s microphone. you laugh in response. “whatever, ‘toru, just finish your sets.”
“reps, baby,” he corrects. “love ya, angel, see you later.”
for a second, you pause. is it perhaps hesitation or maybe the fleeting feeling of uneasiness about something you’re unsure about? fuck, you don’t even understand what you’re thinking of right now.
you just say it anyway “I love you too…” you say it because that’s how it’s meant to be. you’ve always loved him and he’s always loved you, so why do you still try to look for whatever love it is that you want from others?
he can provide you with as much of anything as you want a hundred times over!
you lay on your bed, staring at the ceiling. then, you sigh. maybe your ex is right. what if you are weird. what if this relationship with satoru is far from normal no matter how much your family and his tries to normalize it. though, a part of you thinks. does it matter? you like satoru and you believe he likes you, so why not, right?
