Work Text:
Satoru was already thinking about you when you suddenly entered the classroom. Initially, his shoulders tensed at the sound of the door slamming open but relaxed as soon as he saw your figure leaning against it. With an exhausted groan, you drag your body into your chair, leaning your head back as you let the many bags you were holding drop from your hands to the floor.
Satoru’s eyes were having a hard time when the inevitable desire to look at your face and the curiosity to take a peek into the bags overcame him.
“What’s all this?”
“Gifts from work,” you sighed, sitting up again as you rested your head on your arms, mumbling the rest of your words with closed eyes as the tension and stress were finally exiting your body.
“Valentine’s shift, y’know,” you rummaged through one of the pink gift bags you had received, mindlessly pulling out a box of chocolates.
“I wanted to share them with you.”
A noise left Satoru, one that he attempted (but terribly failed at) to hide by clearing his throat.
“ Oh? Is that so?” he deflected, trying to distract from the blush on his face and the sudden sweating of his hands with some overly flirtatious comments. (As usual.)
“You sure this isn’t just some excuse you made up to get me some Valentine's candy?”
You roll your eyes at him, finally sitting up properly, turning yourself to face him as you place the box in your lap and carefully open it.
“Don’t be ridiculous, I already asked Suguru and Haibara if they wanted some as well, but there were just too many. I have a bunch of them left.”
“I’m the third?!” Satoru gasped, earning him another eye roll and a small kick against his shin.
“Stop pretending to be offended and open your mouth.”
The comment about how he wasn’t just pretending to be offended dies down quickly at the sight in front of him. A small heart-shaped praline, topped with some pink strawberry-flavoured flakes, stretched out to him in between your fingers.
After fully processing this view, he leaned forward, making sure to let his lips touch the tips of your fingers just delicately enough to be seen as accidental.
Unlike the usual “slightly annoyed to neutral at best”-looks you’d have on your face when talking to him, he was now met with a soft smile as you watched him enjoy, with the same hand you put one into your own mouth, he wasn’t sure if his mind was playing tricks on him, but it seemed that your fingers lingering on your lips.
Satoru swallowed both the lump in his throat and the candy.
He was definitely having dreams about this later.
“So you’re getting candy from other guys now?”
“ Other guys? Can’t recall you getting me any Valentine's candy.”
Satoru pouted, “Well, yeah but I buy you candy like every other day, if anything that’s even more heartfelt. I buy them for you because I truly care about you. Not just because of some capitalist made-up holiday.”
You chuckled a little, holding out another chocolate for him to eat. “Correction. You drag me to go candy shopping with you and let me ask for samples for you because you’re a scared baby.”
“I am not scared to ask for samples, I’m just scared they’re poisoned or something!” He murmurs while chewing.
“So you let me get poisoned!?” You pull the piece you were holding out to him back, offended but satisfied as you watch the devastation on his face when he ultimately bites down on nothing.
“Of course not!” He smiles sheepishly, reaching for your wrist to fulfil both his craving for sweets and physical contact with you.
“I just trust your taste ‘s all,” he speaks lowly, his sunglasses covered eyes gazing up at yours as his mouth is still so close to your hand you can basically feel his breath on the tips of your fingers.
But before the blush could fully form, the shift in his tone hits you like a brick to the face as he leans back and speaks in his annoyingly overly flirtatious tone again.
“I mean you must have good taste if you choose to spend your Valentine's evening with me.”
“Need I remind you that I went to two other guys first?” You tease.
It happens all at once, the screeching of his chair moving, the thump of his hand against your desk. He’s leaning in close, between his pushed down glasses and the white tips of his hair his eyes meet yours.
Without breaking the intense stare, his hand reaches for the box in your lap, effortlessly picking up a piece of chocolate before holding it out to your lips.
“Yeah but in the end you’re with me, aren’t you?”