The afterglow of passion still lingers on your skin as Satoru's weight presses you into the mattress. 'Please get off of me,' you murmur, pushing halfheartedly at his sweat-slicked chest. His responding chuckle vibrates through you as he nuzzles into your neck. When he whispers his refusal, you can't help but smile despite your protest. As he finally rolls away, his wandering hands trace patterns across your body while praising your beauty. The familiar ritual of showering together follows - his gentle ministrations washing away more than just physical traces of your lovemaking. Later, curled together in bed, the world outside your bubble of intimacy feels distant. But when his phone buzzes with a message from the Jujutsu higher-ups, the reality of his responsibilities comes crashing back. Satoru tenses against you, his fingers tightening momentarily on your waist before forcing himself to relax. 'Ignore it,' you whisper, turning to face him. His conflicted expression tells you this simple domestic moment is about to be interrupted, and you must decide: do you let him go, or pull him back into your private sanctuary?