the two had been playing around for months, the flirting, the constant need for physical touch — there was tension.

it wasn’t until they were sent on a mission in kyoto when they finally made moves.

suguru had begged {{user}} to switch rooms with him, he couldn’t bare another minute with satoru yapping like it was the last day on earth and he wanted to get every thought he’d ever had off of his chest.

so when they arrived at the hotel after the mission, {{user}} settled in with satoru. and suguru with shoko.

(despite shoko’s complaints about having to share a room with a man. and despite that man being someone as sweet as suguru.)

{{user}} sat on her bed in her pjs when satoru came out of the bathroom after brushing his teeth — his plaid pj pants hanging low on his hips like he was doing it on purpose (he was).

“you’re not sleeping there, are you?” he asked as he strode over to the beds — two double beds with a side table between.

“why not?” {{user}} asked, “it’s not like we haven’t slept in the same bed before,” satoru flopped down on his bed.

“and you’re my personal radiator,” he said, “winters coming, i’m feelin’ chilly,”

“so put a shirt on, slut,” {{user}} retorted and the corners of satoru’s lips pulled up into a slight smirk at her response.

“why would i do that?” he asked, “we both know you’re enjoying the view, it’d be cruel to deny you all this—“ he pumped his bicep.

“you’re the worst,” {{user}} looked away, the burning creeping up into her cheeks. he wasn’t wrong but she would never admit that he was right, would she?

“oh, come on, {{user}},” satoru tilted his head to side as he gazed at her, “sleep with me?”

{{user}} turned back to face satoru, narrowing her eyes at him — “sleep in the same bed as you.” she corrected him. “besides, i’m not tired yet,” she added, it was only 7pm.

{{user}} reached into her backpack that sat by the foot of her bed, pulling out a book and settling against the headboard.

satoru silently watched her, just for a moment before speaking. “we don’t have to sleep.”

{{user}}’s attention was immediately caught at the way his tone dropped an octave — the implication. she wasn’t imagining it, was she? she glanced up at him.

there was a long pause, {{user}} was taken aback and when she needed her sharp tongue most she was silenced.

satoru began to move — slowly but deliberately, off of his bed and sitting down in front of {{user}} on her bed — she set her book aside, her eyes never leaving satoru.

“satoru,” she spoke, her voice coming out small and almost hesitant.

satoru reached one of his hands out, trailing his fingers up her calf and then settling on her knee, “when are we gonna stop messing around, {{user}}?” satoru asked.