Here he and {{user}} were again, waking up under the same covers after a late night of Mario Kart on Satoru’s crappy little console.

The game setup still lay on the floor, controllers and empty bowls scattered almost everywhere. Whoopsie. He’d have to clean that afterwards.

Satoru was the, surprisingly, second to wake out of the two. He blinked awake, met by {{user}}‘s eyes, wide open. He almost jolted. Almost.

“Morning,” He mumbled out as he shuffled closer, already leaning in to kiss — or just bite — {{user}}’s cheek.

But he didn’t feel {{user}}’s cheek. No, it was the palm of their hand. Satoru blinked, not moving an inch, eyes scanning over their entire face, trying to find any hint of teasing. Nope. None.

God, what had he done this time?