#and now they're both in a place where they don't need to worry about inconsequential stuff

[seoafin]

i know i would love to read about stsg suffering in this love hotel fic

oh they're suffering alright

“So…there was a girl wasn’t there?” You start, referring to when you had last seen them. The three of you, out for drinks with Shoko at a bar near TokyoU, and the pretty, doe eyed girl who had struck up a conversation with you in the bathroom about Satoru and Suguru. She had smelled nice, and her hands had been warm and soft they had grasped yours. You smile encouragingly. “You brought her home.”

Satoru and Suguru stare at you. You stare back. Maybe that was the wrong thing to say. Maybe they don’t want to talk to you about their romantic trysts. Maybe you’re just forcing conversation where there is none. People talked about these kinds of things during sleepovers, didn’t they? Huddled together, laughing and teasing each other about their romantic endeavors.

This is…not what you envisioned. 

Suguru is beginning to look faintly embarrassed while Satoru’s lips are thinly pressed together, just a nudge from being downturned.

You sweat. Tough crowd.

It’s not like…you hadn’t seen them all get into the same taxi. Or the way the girl whose name you had never caught had been clinging to their arms the entire way. 

“Did you get her number?” You ask. “For a date or…” you trail off. You think you might really be digging yourself into a whole.

“Ah,” Suguru says, looking embarrassed. “There wasn’t really an opportunity…”

Once again, silence hangs in the room.

You quickly move to change the topic, in hopes that it’ll lighten the mood. “When I was in Kyushu, a man gave me his number.” It had been a relatively quick interaction. An extra helping of the famous local cuisine of Miyazaki beef, and a piece of folded paper atop of the napkin you had been given paired with a wink. “Shoko thinks I should call him!”

…You’re doing this wrong. You must be doing this wrong. Why else would Satoru and Suguru be looking at you like that?

Satoru exhales, running a hand through his damp hair, looking questionably weary. “He knew you were a tourist. He was probably looking for a quick—”

“Kyushu seems a bit far,” Suguru interrupts with a small, tight smile.

You blink. Satoru’s words aren’t lost on you. You are still contemplating them when you say, “Oh.” It wasn’t as if you had been planning on actually calling the man anyway. Maybe he had been wanting you solely for sex. It was obvious from your Tokyo accent you were a tourist. It would’ve been easy enough. “You think?”