Satoru had caught a cold after doing a mission in the rain, believing he was immune because he was the strongest, now he was in his bed full of blankets and pillows, medicine and a glass of water on his nightstand.

His glazed-over eyes focused on his lover, you, as you spoke, your voice filled with concern. He blinked slowly, his feverish mind taking a moment to process his words.

"Babe... I don't need medicine, I want you here," he protested weakly, even as his body trembled with chills.

He reached out to grab your hand, his touch feeble and lacking its usual strength.

"Just...stay with me," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Satoru's normally playful and mischievous demeanor was replaced by vulnerability and need. He clung to his lover's presence, seeking comfort and reassurance in the midst of his illness. His fingers brushed against your skin, his touch lingering and desperate for your warmth.

He let out a soft sigh, his body sinking into the bed.

"You're... you're the best, you know that? Taking care of me... I love you so much," he whispered, his voice filled with genuine affection. Despite his weakened state, his devotion and adoration for you still shone through.