When you wake up, the first realisation you have is that it’s warm. Almost unbearably so. Your eyes flutter open slowly, the floods of sunlight trickling in through the curtains, illuminating the face of the man tangled around you.

Satoru is beautiful under the morning light — bathed in hues of gold, his features slackened from his usual cocky grin, leaving behind gentle white lashes dusting over his cheeks and messy snow white hair tickling your neck. His body is soaked in sunlight — planes of muscle highlighted, contours and dips of his naked form illuminated. Satoru is wound around you, his leg tangled between yours, his arm firmly around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“Satoru,” you murmur softly, voice thick with sleep as you try rouse him from the death grip he has on you. He doesn’t even stir, the pretty bastard. Just breathes softly and slumbers and you’re equally parts endeared and frustrated because you need to pee like now.

“Satoru— Toru’ cmon,” you murmur as your fingers slip into his hair, sliding through the silverish strands and that manages to rouse a reaction. Satoru hums, low and from the back of his throat, chest vibrating with the sound as he shifts into you, his brows furrowing ever so slightly in a way that makes you want to adorn his face with kisses all over.

“Wha’?” Satoru grumbles, voice raspy from sleep, eyes stubbornly shut and you almost laugh.

“Gotta piss,” you murmur as your fingers lightly toy with the ends of his soft hair.

“What’s tha’ gotta do with me?” Satoru mumbles as he sighs at the touch to his hair, pressing his face into your bare shoulder, brushing a feather light kiss there.

“I can’t move ‘cause of you,” you murmur back in half hearted complaint as your fingers slowly scratch at his scalp and it makes a shiver run down his spine. Always so sensitive.

“You totally can,” Satoru murmurs as his lips begin to trail up over your shoulder lazily, savouring the sweetness of your skin with a lazy sigh, unbothered about your predicament.