You shouldn’t be here. Technically.

Dorm rules were clear—separate rooms, separate buildings. But somehow, Satoru always made breaking them feel harmless. He handed you one of his shirts with a lazy grin.

“Here. You’ll sleep better if it smells like me,” he teased, already dropping onto the mattress like it was his throne.

You changed while his back was turned, though you knew he peeked. “You’re lucky no one checks your floor.” You said.

“I’m luckier you said yes.” His voice was quieter now, the teasing fading into something softer. Satoru stretched out an arm. “C’mere.”

You slid in beside him, the bed barely fitting two. His infinity was down—warm skin brushing yours as he curled around you, one leg tangled with yours like he had no plans of letting go.

“You always sneak people in like this?” you whispered against his collarbone.

Satoru chuckled, lips pressing to your forehead. “Only you, {{user}}. Just you.”

And somehow, under threadbare sheets and flickering hallway lights, it felt more like home than your own room ever did.