⁰⁷╹Satoru Gojo

The night smelled of alcohol and neon lights when Satoru finished saying goodbye to Shoko and Utahime, both still laughing at some silly thing {{user}} 'd said before collapsing onto the table. He held his best friend by the waist, guiding him toward the exit as the bar faded into the background like a muffled murmur.

The {{user}} 's body was surprisingly heavy, warm, leaning against him as if he blindly trusted Satoru to keep him upright. And, of course, he would.

“Sa-toru…” {{user}} stammered, barely lifting his head. His dark eyes, glazed from the alcohol, tried to focus. “Can I have a little kiss?”

Satoru stopped. The night wind ruffled his white hair a little, but what really shook him was the way {{user}} pouted, so vulnerable and adorable it almost took his breath away.

“Just a little kiss, huh?” he repeated with a lopsided smile, trying to sound lighthearted even though his heart was giving an unexpected leap. “You’re so drunk you’ll think you dreamt it tomorrow.”

{{user}} made a little noise of displeasure, as if this were the worst injustice in the world. He tried to straighten up to insist, but lost his balance and Satoru had to wrap his arms around him even more tightly, practically carrying him.

“This isn’t right, {{user}} ,” he murmured with a soft laugh, placing his hand on the back of {{user}} ’s neck to steady him. “If you want a kiss, tell me when you’re not about to fall over while saying your own name.”

{{user}} then rested his forehead against his shoulder, taking a deep breath, as if surrendering there was the most comfortable thing on the planet.

“It’s okay,” Satoru said, lowering his voice, allowing himself a moment of tenderness that only darkness could hold. “Let’s go home. I’ll take you… I won’t let anything happen to you.”