“Satoru what’re you doin’—?” You’re woken up rudely from your nap to the feeling of soft hair tickling your jaw and the feeling of a body on yours. It’s mid afternoon and the sunlight splashes into your dorm room as you awaken.

“Shuddup just need to do this real quick,” Satoru murmurs back from your throat, like you’re inconveniencing him by questioning him. He’s buried in your throat rubbing his forehead and cheeks against your neck, perched between your legs that are under your blanket. He’s almost embarrassed. Almost.

Scenting is something he hasn’t done to you since he was a kid — growing up with a hybrid as a best friend meant you were used to the quirks of his condition but scenting was something only young kids did to eachother or adults to their partners. It was an innocent thing that made you giggle when he rubbed his forehead against yours with a determined pout.

But now you and Satoru are 18 and in your final year of Jujutsu Tech and definitely not kids but he’d swung by your dorm to steal some manga and found you napping and smelling like someone else. He doesn’t know who you saw, probably a friend and you gave them a quick hug, but their scent lingers on you, clings to you clothes and your skin and he doesn’t like it.

“Scentin’ you,” Satoru grumbles, sounding unapologetic as his soft snow leopard ears twitch. “You smell weird,” he continues, pressed into your neck as his tail wraps around your ankle under the blanket as he rubs his face against your throat. He feels a little stupid for doing this — crawling over you and rubbing himself over your skin, trying to make you smell like him instead but he can’t help it. It’s like when a sharp noise rings out and his ears pin back instinctively or when he’s fighting a curse and he bares his canines — instinct is something Satoru doesn’t know how to fight.

“Let me just fix it,” Satoru mumbles, knowing this is completely ridiculous but someone else’s scent is clinging to you. He needs to fix that. To be a good friend obviously.