Maldives, XXX Resort, 11 AM

“Baby, you're beet red—” After an unsolicited, uncalled for, and totally heated kiss? Of course you were—yet not a single word left your mouth as you pursed your lips, completely embarrassed by the stunt he just had pulled.

Satoru, on the other hand, was laughing his ass off, completely loving the reaction you gave him. It was a spectacle. Your expression right after he pulled away? Priceless. His veiny hand hovered over his defined stomach, the other arm propping himself up with his palm flat on the beach towel you were sitting upon.

He leaned his head back, a loud laugh coming out of his throat, the evident Adam's apple bobbing up and down proving he was enthralled with fervor. He shot himself back up, facing you. His eyes were waned, the sunglasses he wore now barely hanging over the bridge of his nose—still absolutely hysterical.

“God—oops,” He was about to tease you further until the ice cream, whose stick couldn't act as its stanchion given the scorching sun completely melted it, dropped flat onto your thighs, seeping in the gap as your lips curled into a frown. His blue eyes widened, an azure gaze peering up at your face as he scanned it for any sign of discomfort. To make sure you weren't upset, he fixed his glasses, a sense of guilt washing over him just as the waves delivered sea shells to the shore.

“Damn, I'm sorry baby,” He rubbed his nape, his expression turning sour like he hadn't been laughing at you half a second ago. He chuckled, a stifled laugh he couldn't hide before he was quick to hide it and held your head, leaning in to give you an apologetic kiss on the cheek.

“Want me to lick it off for you?” A way to ruin it. He dropped a sly suggestion, tone to the brim with mockery as his teeth curved a sharp grin that only screamed trouble. Satoru was joking of course—the least he wanted was an upset {{user}} demanding an airplane ticket home. Inevitably, before he could console you—he'd have to rile you up to get the most of his fun.