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It's by accident, the first time.
They wear matching uniforms, is the thing, so Satoru can't be blamed for accidentally grabbing the wrong jacket when he goes inside. He doesn't even notice until the next morning when he starts to put it on and gets a whiff of a rich, warm scent wafting off the fabric— Suguru's.
And it's not like Satoru hasn't ever smelled Suguru before, they're friends, they drape themselves all over each other, he's familiar with his friend's natural aroma. That scent transfers casually like a slap on the back or a high five. It's normal to smell a bit like your friends after long enough.
But right where the collar of the jacket brushes against Satoru's neck— where it would brush against Suguru's neck, where it would be in near constant contact with his scent glands, soaking up his scent every time he wears it—
It's concentrated, stronger than he's used to.
Satoru stuffs the jacket under his blanket and lies to Suguru when he asks if he's seen it.
The following night it migrates under his pillow.
The next time also isn't intentional, he swears.
There's a blanket they keep in the common room for late night reality TV show binges and movie nights, except Satoru drapes it over himself while he and Shoko do some last minute cramming for an exam she has the next day. Its soft, the fabric is worn smooth and a bit thin from frequent use. It smells like all three of them— Suguru's warm scent paired with Shoko's dry, earthy fragrance, and then the lighter clean scent Satoru himself gives off.
He doesn't notice he still has it draped over his shoulders until he's back to his room, and at that point he can't be bothered to return it. It's too warm to sleep under it and his blanket though, so he sort of… bundles it up and tucks it next to the wall so he can curl up against it.
He sleeps well that night— he sleeps straight through his alarm and is woken only by Yaga coming to demand to know why he isn't in class.
On occasion clothes get mixed up when the laundry is getting done, and its usually a matter of Satoru rolling his eyes and dropping whatever it is off to Suguru when the load is finished.
Recently he's been keeping some of them. The odd shirt or sweater. Somewhat irrationally, a sock.
They're clean, he washes them first.
At the start anyway.
It's really just a waste, isn't it? He'll have to wash them again when he eventually gives them back, because at that point they'll be gross from being in his bed and it'd be rude not to, so—
It's fine.
(And it'd be a shame to waste the scent clinging to the fabric, right?)
The next time is entirely intentional, and pre-meditated.
Suguru has a very soft, dark green sweater that he wears on occasion when the weather gets cold, and Satoru wants it.
He waits until Suguru gets assigned a mission with one of the first years then sneaks into his room to rummage through his closet. The sweater isn't hard to find; it's tucked onto a top shelf and is every bit as soft as Satoru remembered. He also giddily grabs a couple warn-thin tshirts while he's here then books it back to his room, holding the pilfered clothing to his chest. The sweater will be perfect tucked between his pillow and the common room blanket, so he can rub his cheek on it while he curls up in his—
Wait.
Satoru looks down at the sweater in his hands, at the mess of bedding and borrowed clothing strewn across his mattress.
Except it isn't strewn.
He has a system; everything is placed deliberately.
Oh, Satoru realises, I've been nesting.
The immediate feeling that washes over him is embarrassment; a cloying sense of shame. He feels caught out, like he's done something he shouldn't have, like he's going to get in trouble if anyone catches wind of this.
The clan elders made it clear that nesting is a comfort he doesn't need. That omegas nest because they want somewhere to hide, that it's an instinct of the weak to surround yourself with other people's scents. Satoru doesn't need a safe space, doesn't need the reassurance of other people's scents. He's meant to be the strongest, untouchable. He doesn't need a nest.
He's never really wanted to, either, never had the urge, never even considered doing so. Staring down into his nest comes as a bit of a surprise.
Taking it apart would probably be the wisest choice, he figures. He can stick Suguru's stuff back in the laundry and return the blanket back to the common room and—
The thought makes him feel nauseous.
He doesn't want to take it apart.
It's… nice.
Satoru rubs his thumb across the soft material of Suguru's sweater.
It's not like anyone will know, right? No one ever really bothers him in his room, it's always him barging into other people's spaces, letting himself into Suguru's room to ask him to hang out. He can just… start locking his door.
The sweater is perfect to cuddle at night, but Satoru can't help but wish it carried Suguru's scent instead of just the subtle fragrance of the school supplied laundry soap.
"Satoru?" Suguru's voice comes through his open bedroom door as Satoru walks past to his own room.
He pauses, takes a couple steps back and pokes his head into Suguru's room, "Yeah?"
There are clothes strewn in a mess across Suguru's bed and floor while he digs through his laundry basket with a frown on his face, "Have you seen my jacket? I have a mission later and I can't find it."
"I threw it in with the washing." Satoru lies, "It stinks; you really ought to wash it more." It's currently stuffed under his pillow with the other one he stole weeks ago. He should probably sneak the older one back into Suguru's laundry, now that he thinks about it, since Suguru does need one. Besides, his scent has faded from it somewhat.
"Ah, sorry, Satoru," Suguru has the audacity to look apologetic, "It's been warm lately, so the scent blocking gel I use has been sweating off faster than usual. I didn't realise it was bothering you."
"As if." Satoru denies, "I'm not so sensitive that you smelling bad is some great offense. It's fine."
Suguru looks relieved, but he does turn to his bedside table and grabs his scent blocker to roll another layer on. "You couldn't have picked better timing to be helpful?" He half teases, half complains, looking at the clothes on his bed and his floor, "My other jacket is still missing, I don't— Do you think Nanami would let me borrow his?"
"You can borrow mine." Satoru hears himself offer before he really gives the idea conscious thought. He plucks at the front of his jacket for emphasis.
"Didn't you just say I stink?" Suguru asks, frowning.
"So wash it before you give it back, who cares?" Satoru suggests, though he hopes Suguru forgets, "Nanami's jacket wouldn't fit you anyway, he's too skinny."
"Says you." Suguru snorts, crossing the room. He looks at Satoru expectantly. Right. Satoru should probably—
He pops the button on the front and slides the jacket off, holding it out to Suguru as casually as he can manage, "Don't get it dirty."
"If I'm washing it before I give it back, who cares if I get it dirty?" Suguru asks, slipping an arm into a sleeve.
"It's the principle of the thing."
"Sure sure," Suguru laughs, "Don't worry, I won't ruin it or anything. Though if I did you can afford to replace it."
"It's the principle of the thing!" Satoru repeats, taking on a mockingly haughty tone, fighting a grin. He crosses his arms for good measure, wags a finger at Suguru. Suguru sticks his tongue out at him in return, to which Satoru gasps dramatically.
And— The jacket looks identical to Suguru's own jacket, but a warm feeling settles in Satoru stomach knowing that it's his jacket that Suguru is wearing. He watches as Suguru tucks his chin toward the collar, inhaling deeply for a second.
"Wh— did you just—”
Suguru's face blooms with colour, head jerking up, "It—" He smiles, somewhat sheepishly, "It smells like you."
Satoru feels his own face heat in response.
"Okay! I'm uh—" He cuts himself off, turning to exit Suguru's room as quickly as possible, "Good luck! With your mission!"
Suguru's warm laughter follows him down the hall, cut off once Satoru closes his door behind him and face plants into his nest.
Unfortunately Suguru does wash the jacket before he gives it back.
(Satoru reluctantly, sneakily, returns one of Suguru's jackets as well.)
It's an awful, rainy, early morning when they get summoned for an emergency mission: some grade two sorcerer in over their head.
Satoru had just come back from a mission late the night before, so he fails to wake for his phone buzzing from where he left it in his bag on the floor next to the door. It's only once Suguru knocks on his door that he stirs, dragging himself out of bed to see what the fuss is.
He's still half asleep, which is why he pays no mind to the fact that he's dressed only in boxers and one of Suguru's pilfered shirts when he cracks the door open This is also why he doesn't notice the marginal widening of Suguru's eyes when he notices. He doesn't think to block the view of his bed, doesn't realise Suguru can see his nest in is messy glory, can see all the missing clothes he's been complaining about.
Some of the frenzy bleeds out of Suguru; the impatient rush to leave mollified somewhat by something Satoru doesn't pick up on.
"What's…?" Satoru mumbles, rubbing at his face.
"Rescue mission." Suguru tells him, voice softer than he usually is for this sort of thing, "Put on some pants, it's an emergency and we're the closest."
"Yeah, yeah." Satoru grumbles, already stepping into his pants from yesterday. Suguru, for his part, is in sweat pants and a hooded pullover; probably something he pulled on in a rush when the call came through.
He doesn't think about the rain until they're leaving the dorms. He pauses under the awning, about to turn around to go get something to keep himself dry, when a lump of dark fabric drops over his head and shoulders.
"I knew you'd forget." Suguru teases, tugging his own hood up and darting out across the yard to the car waiting for them.
Satoru shoves his arms into the sleeve of the sweater Suguru dumped on him and runs out into the rain to get into the car as well. Suguru has slid across the seat so Satoru can climb in the same side instead of rounding the vehicle.
Satoru hunches a little in the sweater, burrowing his nose in the collar and allowing the hood to slump further over his head. It's one of Suguru's soft, over-sized ones, one Satoru bought him for his birthday last year. Its a bit warm for the current season, but it keeps the rain off well enough, and— it smells like Suguru.
It smells a bit too clean to have been something Suguru wore recently, but his scent is strong on the fabric, like he'd scented it on purpose. When Satoru glances over at him, Suguru is looking out the window, but in the reflection in the glass he can see that his mouth is curled into a satisfied smile.
After that Suguru's clothes start ending up in Satoru's laundry without him accidentally putting them there himself. Everything is clean, freshly washed, but they still somehow carry a hint of Suguru's scent anyway.
Satoru's first thought is that Suguru is getting close to his cycle, and that his scent is just strong enough that the laundry soap isn't enough to neutralize it completely. Except the soap is specifically designed to neutralize strong natural odors, and when Satoru counts back in his head, Suguru's rut isn't due for another few months at least.
He still gets suspicious again when Suguru starts lending him things unprompted.
Satoru complains about being sweaty after a particularly grueling chase through the woods after a curse and Suguru happens to have an extra t-shirt he can borrow until they get back to campus so he can shower.
They have a movie night in the common room— some series Shoko wanted them to binge— and since the blanket they usually keep there is missing, Suguru brings one of his own out for them to share. Satoru falls asleep on his shoulder and when they wake him at nearly 3am and shuffle him off to bed, Suguru's blanket is wrapped around his shoulders and goes with him.
Satoru forgets to bring a button up on an overnight trip, but it's fine since Suguru packed extra.
Another instance of Suguru loaning him a hooded sweater due to rain showers, because he knew Satoru would forget to check the forecast. Nevermind that he could have told Satoru to bring a jacket?
And it's not like he wouldn't usually— well, Suguru can be a bit of a mother hen at times, but he tends to become somewhat unbearable during his cycle.
They're not quite at the age where ruts and heats turn into mating frenzy, so while Satoru gets the urge to binge eat more than usual and sleep more during his cycle, Suguru compulsively starts trying to look after everyone he considers family.
(Satoru fondly recalls the time Shoko flew into Suguru about lecturing her about smoking, seeing as he can be just as bad.)
Constantly lending Satoru clothes treads right along that line, but it's still too early and his scent seems normal, so? Something else?
Suguru doesn't ask for any of it back, so Satoru keep them.
"Hey, Satoru?"
"Mmmn?" Satoru lolls his head back where hes resting it against Suguru's thigh to make eye contact. They're currently sprawled on Suguru's bed, or, Satoru is sprawled out while Suguru is leaning against the wall and paging through a guidebook to figure out the trick to the level they're stuck on in the game they're playing together on Satoru's gameboy. Satoru is mindlessly grinding through levels to get enough in-game currency to buy an item he wants. Every once in a while Suguru runs a hand over Satoru's hair.
He lowers the gameboy to his chest, peering up at Suguru.
"Do you— Are you— I thought that— Or, um, I got you—" Suguru cuts himself off with a sigh, uncharacteristically tongue-tied, "I got you something."
Satoru sits up abruptly, turning to face Suguru, a grin spreading across his face, "You got me something? Oooh, what is it? Can I have it?"
"It's for you, so yeah, you can have it. It would defeat the purpose to get it for you and then—"
"Suguru!" Satoru can tell something is making Suguru nervous, but he wants him to cut to the chase and just give him whatever it is, "Is it food?"
"Right. Uh, it's not food, no. I swear, you only think about snacks…" Suguru gets up and goes to his wardrobe, pulling out a paper shopping bag and crossing back to the bed. He hesitates, fingers curled around the handle of the bag, staring at Satoru with a bit of a flush rising on his face. He seems to chew on his words for a moment, opening and closing his mouth a couple times before he simply hands the bag to Satoru.
"I hope it's not too presumptuous, or if I'm overstepping—" Suguru starts to explain while Satoru digs into the bag and pulls out something made of the softest material he thinks he's ever held, "—but I wanted to get you something for your nest, since you've been borrowing my stuff for it, and I thought that, maybe—”
Wait.
Pause!!
"My what." Satoru says more than asks, clutching the baby-soft blanket Suguru bought him. The baby-soft nesting blanket Suguru bought him. He can feel his heart rate pick up, an anxious, sick feeling starting in his stomach.
"Your nest. I know you probably didn't mean for me to see it, but a couple weeks ago when there was that emergency and I had to wake you up—"
"I'm sorry." Satoru mumbles, stuffing the blanket back into the bag, "I can— You can have your stuff back, you don't have to, like, get me anything; I shouldn't have taken it in the first place, I just—”
Fuck, is his voice shaking?
"What? No!" Suguru pushes the bag back into Satoru's hands when he tries to give it back, "That's not what I was trying to—" He growls a little under his breath, frustrated, and Satoru flinches.
Satoru flinches. Fuck. The elders were right when they said nesting just makes people weak.
Suguru looms closer to where Satoru is sitting on the bed, trying to block him from leaving, "Satoru, I don't care that you took my stuff. It, uh, it made me happy when I realised you had taken so much of it for your nest." He smiles, cheeks pink, "I like the idea that you find my scent comforting."
Satoru stares at him in disbelief.
"I know it's personal, but I wanted to give you something for your nest, intentionally, instead of you having to steal things." His voice goes slightly hesitant again, "I could scent that blanket for you, if you want?"
Satoru's face flames. That's… Suguru scenting the blanket for him, for his—
"Are you sure?" Satoru asks.
"I mean, yeah, I want to. But only if it's okay—"
"No. You're sure you're not mad? I took a lot of your stuff." Satoru points out, fingers reaching into the bag to touch the soft fuzz of the blanket again.
"I mean, if you have my jacket I'd like to have that back, but the rest is probably fine?" Suguru gently pulls on the other side of the bag with a single finger, tugging it further open, "So, did you want me to scent this, or?"
Satoru doesn't answer. He stares at Suguru's hand holding the bag only a few inches from where his own is curled around the blanket. Suguru doesn't mind. He likes that Satoru is nesting with his stuff. Suguru bought him something specifically for his nest, because he wants Satoru to nest with it.
He wants to scent it for him.
Satoru abandons the soft fabric in favour of linking their finger together and standing up in the scant space between Suguru and the bed. It puts them nose-to-nose, and Suguru takes a half-step back in surprise.
"Satoru, what—"
It gives Satoru the space to move around him, dragging him by their interlocked hands out of Suguru's bedroom and down the hall to his own room. It's too much of a hassle to dig his key out of his pocket —especially with both of his hands occupied with Suguru's and the bag— so Satoru uses the backup he's been working on: a very precisely controlled twist of cursed energy that pops the lock open hands-free.
He shoves the door closed behind them with another less-careful use of cursed energy, resulting in a too-loud slam that makes Suguru flinch.
"When I gave that to you, I didn't mean to invite myself; you don't have to show me your nest again, Satoru, wait—!"
Satoru climbs into his bed, into his nest, pulling Suguru along as well until he stops, pulling his hand free from Satoru's.
Suguru takes a step back, crossing his arms and putting an attempt at a scolding expression on his face, "Satoru, don't just drag people around."
"Stop being so fussy, Suguru, I know you don't mind." Satoru scoffs. A smile pulls across his face, cheeks warm; he pats the mattress next to where he's sitting cross-legged, "Come on~ It's super comfy."
"You can't just…" Suguru's stern expression falters, a flush taking over his face again, "There are implications, you know? You shouldn't just invite people into your nest willy-nilly, okay?"
Satoru rolls his eyes, "I know that. I may not have nested before but I understand the implications, I'm not stupid." He does finger quotes around implications, so that Suguru knows he thinks he's the one being stupid, "It's Suguru, so it's fine. Come onnn~"
"This is the first time you—"
"Whatever, whatever, it's not a big deal! Besides, I also know that giving someone nesting material like that is kind of a big deal." Satoru points out. He pulls the blanket out of the bag, staring down at it in his lap instead of making eye contact with Suguru, "Especially if it's not because you don't want me taking your things—”
"I said I don't care about that—"
"—Exactly, so giving me this blanket and offering to scent it has implications of its own." He carries on, peeking up at Suguru through his eyelashes, "Don't pretend I'm misunderstanding. I—" He stumbles, words failing him for a second. It feel silly, being afraid after Suguru's blatant offering, after trying to drag him into his nest; it feels foolish that a few words would be this difficult.
"I, um," Satoru takes a deep breath, fingers curling in plush fabric. He lifts his chin, meets Suguru's startled gaze, "I like you, Suguru, so it's fine, right?"
Suguru's entire demeanor softens, his voice quiet and warm when he speaks, "Yeah, Satoru, it's fine."
He takes the couple steps that close the gap between them, crawling very carefully onto the bed to avoid disturbing anything. He kneels opposite Satoru, glancing around at the contents of his nest, now that he finally accepts the permission he's been given. His eyes catch on the green sweater Satoru stole a while ago, tucked up next to the pillow and the dark fabric of his jacket sticking out from underneath. His lips part, like he means to say something but Satoru beats him to it.
"Okay, say it back."
Suguru meets Satoru's determined expression.
"Huh?"
"You have to say it back now." Satoru says, grabbing one of Suguru's hands and linking their fingers again, "I said it so you have to as well."
"You seem pretty sure I'm going to." Suguru teases, his eyes tilting into little crescents.
"Don't be mean." Satoru pouts.
"Alright, alright," Suguru gives in. He smiles, voice warm like he gets when he's spoiling Satoru and they both know it, "I like you, Satoru. Can I scent the blanket I got you for your nest?"
"Yes please." Satoru shoves the blanket at him, letting go of his hand so he can take it. He watches, face still warm as Suguru unbuttons the collar of his shirt to expose his neck, dragging the soft fabric against his scent glands— first one side and then the other.
Satoru has never felt jealous of a blanket before.
"There, how's that?" Suguru asks, holding the blanket out, but Satoru can't stop thinking about how nice it would be to rub against his scent gland directly. He wants to run his fingers over it, wants to press his face there, wants to press his own neck against him so their scents mix and there's no chance anyone gets confused about—
"It's good." Satoru says, absently accepting the blanket from Suguru's hands without bothering to smell it, "Suguru, will you scent me?"
Suguru looks startled again, slightly hesitant, and Satoru had the brief thought that maybe he's overreaching before Suguru nods. He starts to pull up his sleeves to expose the smaller scent glands on his wrists so they can rub them together, like people usually do for this sort of thing.
Satoru takes his hands, halting them before he makes much progress and leans forward, rubbing his cheek against Suguru's. He feels him stiffen, but he tilts his head obligingly when Satoru presses closer, baring his throat. There's a warm feeling rumbling in his chest, that Suguru would do so for him, expose his throat like that. The feeling crawls up his throat, leaking out into a real purr when their scent glands touch, their scents mixing into something warm and fresh and satisfying. Something new but familiar.
He nuzzles closers until they're nearly chest to chest, all but crawling into Suguru's lap.
"Satoru." Suguru's voice is soft, breathed bare centimeters from his ear; a hand pets gently over his hair, "Satoru."
Satoru pulls back just enough that their eyes meet, rumbling a pleased, "Mhmm?"
Suguru's eyes are dark. One of his hands comes up to cradle Satoru's jaw, pulling him further away. His thumb strokes across Satoru's cheek. Satoru feels so so warm.
"Is it alright if I kiss you?" Suguru whispers, like it's a secret, like it's just for him.
And it is.
Satoru nods, answering in a whispered breath of his own, "Yeah."
Suguru's mouth is soft like his voice, like the way he says Satoru's name, like the way he's holding his face between his hands. And Satoru hasn't ever kissed someone before, something else he never cared about, not until he met Suguru and started wanting to be close to him, started wanting touch and affection.
It's warm, dry friction as their lips slide against each other, until Suguru pulls back, wetting his lips with his tongue. They both breath in the gap between them for a moment, eyes locked. Something must pass between them, because resolve settles on Suguru's face and he tilts his head just a bit before slotting their mouths back together. It's better like this, and Satoru gasps when Suguru parts his lips to rub his teeth gently gently across his bottom lip.
And then it's wet, and Suguru is licking into his mouth, curling against his own tongue and sucking on his lip when he pulls it back. It sounds wet. Suguru's chin moves against his as their lips part and then meet over and over. Satoru feels like gasping, breathing warm damp air in the moments between kisses. He feels lightheaded, but he doesn't want to stop.
Suguru moves slightly, kissing the corner of Satoru's mouth this time, the curve of his cheekbone, his nose.
Satoru catches his breath, the tremble of a giggle eking out as Suguru kisses the tip of his nose, an eyebrow.
"Suguru," He whispers, eyes falling shut "Suguru—"
Suguru smooths a thumb across his eyelashes, "Yeah?" He presses a kiss to the opposite eyelid.
"Suguru, I like you." Satoru tells him again, "I like you, Suguru."
"Yeah." Suguru agrees, kissing his forehead, the bridge of his nose, his other eyelid, "Yeah, Satoru, I like you too."
Their mouths meet again, another for the tally Satoru has already, immediately, lost track of. Who cares? He wants this forever.
He's leaning into Suguru's space, held close by the hands on his face, but Satoru pulls back when their lips part again, fisting his hands in the front of Suguru's shirt as he flops backwards, dragging him with him. His head lands on the pillow and Suguru lets go of his face to catch himself, hovering over Satoru.
"Come on," Satoru grins, "Lay down with me." He shuffles a bit to the side so Suguru can share the pillow with him. Suguru obliges, obviously, rolling into the cradle of the nest next to the wall. Some of his dark hair has slipped from his bun and spills across the pillowcase. Their noses are juuust barely brushing.
"It comfy, right?" Satoru asks, pressing closer so they're chest to chest again.
"It is." Suguru agrees, curling an arm over Satoru's side. His hand slides up Satoru's back, sliding up over the back of his neck and into his hair. "It smells like you." He notes, pressing closer as well; Satoru can feel his smile against his own mouth, "It smells like us."