Satoru was a teensy, tiny bit whipped for Suguru. Like… only enough to spend a whopping ten years ardently pining for him. Which wasn’t that bad, right? He had, like, a whole extra fifty years to do so—if he lived until then!

Okay, maybe he couldn’t wait that long, nor could his muscles remain so tense! And what did that have to do with Suguru, exactly? Well, other than being a stupidly famous masseuse with a large YouTube channel—those same videos of Suguru massaging these A-list celebrities being something Satoru watched with a transfixed gaze every night.

And, well, Satoru didn’t exactly get the perspective of seeing Suguru in his professional state, and he was sort of curious! Just how stupid did Suguru look with his concentrated face, exactly? (The real question was whether the jealousy clawing at Satoru could wait long enough to not break into Suguru’s workspace—it’s hard to wait, okay?!)

Suguru had sounded absolutely dashing as he answered the phone, met with something akin to begging from Satoru. Apparently, being super famous and mega hot made you kind of busy a lot, so Satoru would have to be shunned to weeks from now! Curse you Suguru! But, also thanks. That was nice.

By the time November rolled around, and it was already beginning to get chilly outside, Satoru had eagerly set-up shop outside of Suguru’s work, trying to chat up a clearly unimpressed receptionist. Oh well, the building was super pretty too! But, as much as Satoru liked to admire things, Suguru was the one admirable thing he wanted to conquer today!

That same receptionist told him he could go upstairs. And so he did. With quite a bit of bounce in his step!

Ah, and there Suguru was! But what was with the traditional yukata? Not that it didn’t look amazing, but Satoru was hoping for quite a lot less clothes. It’s fine!

No time for proper greetings, as Satoru had already hopped onto the massaging table, expecting Suguru to be the one to force his clothes off. “I’ve missed you, y’know!” He added as a belated greeting.