“Hey,” Satoru breathes, nuzzling his face into your neck, soft white hair tickling your skin.
“Hmm.” you hum, running your fingers through his soft locks, your other hand rubbing along his back, feeling the smooth material of his cotton shirt, lingering on the muscles you can feel under it. His arms tighten around you, pulling you even more into his lap so that your chests are as close as they could be, your bodies melded together. You feel his nose press into you and the rise and fall of his body as he releases a breath when you place a delicate kiss on his shoulder.
“You know you’re beautiful, right?”
“Satoru…” you do your half-awkward laugh, half-breathing out thing that you always do whenever someone compliments you, now burying your own face into his neck as heat crawls up your skin.
“You are. You truly are,” he says, pulling away from you and holding you by your waist, looking straight into your eyes with that unwavering gaze that never fails to let you know he’s being genuine. You take him in as his silver eyelashes flutter against his cheekbones, framing his azure eyes that are intensely staring back at you. His glasses are always off around you. He claims that he wants to fully see you as best as he can.
Awkwardly smiling, you hold eye contact for a few seconds before nervously glancing away from his eyes. At times like this you can’t help but wonder, how does he see you as that? As beautiful. Doesn’t he know that he’s the beautiful one? That he’s the one that makes you stop in place multiple times a day just to think, wow. It's hard to believe him sometimes, when he says things like this. He says it so freely too, with no hesitation, no reluctance, simply opening his heart for you to look inside and do whatever you want with it. It makes you grateful that he chose you, of all people. It makes you scared, because what will you do when it's over? When it doesn't last?
“We all know you’re the beautiful one, Satoru,” you respond, looking over his shoulder. When you’re met with silence, you glance back at him only to see his eyebrows furrowed, a pout on his lips, and without thinking you smooth your thumb over his bottom lip, smiling softly when he only pouts even more like a petulant child.
He cups your face with his large hand, frown softening but still there when your eyes flutter and you rub your cheek into him. “Why do you always do that? Why don’t you ever believe me?”
You keep your eyes closed. “You know why, Satoru…” You bring your front to his again, burying your face in his neck and holding him close as if he might disappear from under your fingers.
“I’m yours forever, you know? There’s no getting rid of me. No matter how hard you try. You’re stuck with me, baby.”
“So you’ve said.” You hate when you’re not able to respond with the same thing, hate the hurt he tries to mask but fails around you when you don’t tell him how you truly feel, but you know he knows. You just need to work up the nerve to let it out.
He lets you avoid, Satoru can never deny you. Instead, you breathe him in, inhaling the comforting smell of his cologne and detergent, and he rubs soft shapes into your back, deft fingers bringing you to the edges of sleep. It's like this for a few minutes, the soft sounds of your breaths the only thing you can hear on the couch, but then he speaks again.
“I’ll make sure to keep telling you until you believe me.”
You sigh, “Will you now?”
You feel the jerk of his head against your neck as he nods, determined, and you smile to yourself. You can’t ever let him go.
“I will, every single day.” You don’t mention that he already does. “You’re so incredibly beautiful, love. It kills me. I love it.”
You laugh, and he pulls away again to see the action, eyes crinkling with his own smile, dimples forming in his cheeks as his eyes sweep over your face.
“Alright, Sa- Oh!” You’re cut off when he lifts you up with one arm, wrapping your legs around his waist and strolling over to the bedroom. “Satoru!”
He winks at you, patting your ass. “I know a few other ways I can show you that I think you’re beautiful.”
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"I don't recall agreeing to be a glorified weighted blanket when I decided to come over." Kiyoomi chuckles from his place on your chest, legs tangling with your own, arms curled around your back.
You kiss his forehead, your smile mirroring his. "You didn't? I thought it came with being a boyfriend?"
"What? Crushing the love of my life with my entire body weight? I think I missed the patch notes for that update." He teases.
"Oh, shut it, you loser." You roll your eyes, pulling his head closer to your chest to smother his laughter. "Just cuddle me. Please."
"No," He huffs out his dissent, softened around the edges by the motions of your hands in his hair, and all the while his arms tighten around you. "You're asking for a lot after calling me a loser." You feel rather than hear his words as he mutters them into your — his — shirt.
"I'm sorry, you big baby." The snort he lets out in response pulls your grin wider. "Whatever shall I do to regain your favor once more?"
He pinches you lightly for your dramatics; your exaggerated posh tone startling into a yelp.
"Pancakes would be nice." A sharp inhale punctuates his words as you tug his hair harshly in retaliation, before smoothing it out in apology.
"Only if we can go out and have ice cream after."
"And of course, I'm paying since you'll conveniently 'forget' your wallet, huh?"
"That was one time!"
He chuckles at your outburst. Turning his head just enough to leave a kiss on your collarbone, he halts your tirade before the words even have the chance to form in your throat.
"Of course, baby."
Then, he places one last placating kiss under your chin before both of you succumb to the coziness of the atmosphere.
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