TITLE: Give the body what it knows it cannot keep AUTHOR: the_husks_of_hollow_stars (RedWritingHood) on AO3
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He's dressed in a single robe, far lighter than the ones he wears in his daily life. It's a simple thing to untie it, to let it slide from his shoulders and pool behind him in a pile of cloth.
He says, "Get on your knees."
Satoru looks at him for a moment. Expression unreadable. Made even moreso by the bandages concealing his eyes, hiding anything they might otherwise give away.
Then--quietly--he goes to the floor. Hands slowly coming to rest on his thighs, face tilting up towards Suguru. He's the only person in the room who's still completely clothed.
It feels like power. More than curses. More than holding destruction in his hands. Just this; Satoru, kneeling so gracefully, so easily, unbowed yet surrendering.
Only for him.
It's power. Not because it's the Strongest on his knees before him, but because it's Satoru. A person who lives solely by his own whims, more willful and headstrong than any other.
More beautiful. Not just in appearance.
And here he is. Unmoving but for the rise and fall of his chest, face lifted in Suguru's direction. Mouth unsmiling. How long has it been since Suguru last saw him smile?
He reaches down, touches that unsmiling mouth with gentle fingertips. Satoru exhales, slowly. Stays still beneath Suguru's hand.
"How good you are," Suguru murmurs. Feels the truth of it in the hollow well of his ribcage. Catches the slightest tremor on Satoru's next exhale, nearly inaudible.
Ah...
"I suppose you haven't been told enough," Suguru muses, "how unbearably wonderful you are. It is unbearable, Satoru." Calloused fingers smooth over a soft cheek, then rest upon the vulnerable skin beneath one unseen priceless-gem eye. "I don't know how anyone can live knowing you've ever been unloved."
He sees the moment Satoru would have turned away, if not for the weight of Suguru's touch on him. Always, Satoru has something to say, some light-voiced line to throw out into the world, but not here. Not now.
He's probably thinking that Suguru doesn't have a right to talk about this. It's irrelevant, and always will be. Love wasn't enough to save anyone, so why should it matter?
It does. It does.
Sorrowful, softhearted man. Look at him. Yielding to Suguru's hands like this.
What he deserves.
Suguru cups the side of Satoru's face. Reaches out with his other hand to pull away the bandages, just so Suguru can lean down and press a kiss against his forehead. Leans back to look at him again. Snowy white lashes flutter open, revealing glittering blue eyes.
