Kisses and hot skin
Pairing: Snow leopard!Satoru x owner!reader
Summary: Gojo gets very adorable when struck with high fever
Tags: fluff, sickness, non-sexual nudity, fever, caretaker reader, sick gojo, silly gojo with delirious fever
wc: 1.7k
a/n: as promised, here’s part 2 to soft, fluffy ears! Im always down to feed your cravings hehe ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
Part 1 << Masterlist >> Part 3
“You’re insanely hot.” You press your palm to Satoru’s forehead, gently pushing his white, soft hair out of the way.
“Thanks, but I’m into someone else” The words slip past his lips all easy, his eyes fluttering shut, a small shudder escaping him causing his soft, fluffy ears to twitch.
He’s burning up.
The thermometer beeps its high-pitched scream, confirming your earlier suspicion.
“Yeah? What’s she like?” You humour him, tone soft and quiet, careful not to overwhelm his already straining body and sensitive senses. You bend down to re-dip the tiny cloth back in icy water.
“She’s pretty” His tone is so light, slightly breathless – exhaustion kicking in. “Pretty on the inside too” he adds, sucking in a small, sharp breath when you replace your hand on his forehead with the cool, wet cloth. It stops him from melting momentarily.
The cloth turns room temperature quicker than it should have. That cant be good.
You keep humming along as you wet the towel again. The fever is making him act out of his mind.
“And she’s sweet. She even likes me” despite how in pain he looks, he still manages a small lopsided smile, his sharp teeth peeking out a little.
“Oh? Lucky you. What makes you think that?” you hold back the small snort threatening to bubble out of you at his bold assumption. letting the cold cloth cool his temperature for now, your hands moving down his chest, carefully unbuttoning his button down hugging his deliciously muscular frame. He moans out a soft sound, somewhere between pure exhaustion and the discomfort of his current overbearing temperature.
You can’t help but pout. Poor Satoru.
“She cuddles me to sleep” he replies, your hand slowly unbuttoning the last few buttons, focused on your task.
“Mhm” you keep humming, spurring him to continue whatever he’s blabbering about.
“And she lets me lay on her chest. Her chest is warm, it’s nice when my nose gets cold” that prompts a chuckle out of you, fingers gentle in the way you try to peel his button-down shirt off.
Satoru squirms a little, small whimpers and punched out breaths rolling of his tongue at you trying to lift his upper body up. The fever is making him sluggish.
“Does this hurt?” you press you hand under the nape of his neck, his feverish skin scalding your fingertips.
He shakes his head at that, protesting in the name of his pride. “…no” its small, his eyes finally opening to peer up at you nearly cradling him to your chest like a soft fluffy cat. This starts to feel a little familiar to his mushy brain.
“So, you don’t need a kiss, then” you shrug casually, a slight smile playing on your lips.
“No, no. it hurts. A lot. I was just confused” he abandons his ‘I like someone else’ speech, his mushy brain favouring you over the fictional version of you he was gushing about a minute ago.
You let out a small chuckle under your breath, your breath ghosting over his burning temple, burning into your lips as you kiss him there. “Let’s get you in the shower, you’re burning up” you coax softly, movements slow and gentle – careful not to make him do anything overbearing in his current hazy moment.
Slowly, you help him to the bathroom, holding his arm around your shoulder, lacing your fingers with his. Letting him lean against the glass sliding doors of your shower, you start unzipping his zipper, carefully slow.
“Don’t you think it’s unfair I’m the only one getting undressed here?” he voices, looking down at your hands, how your fingers move with excessive slowness to free him from his jeans. You steal a glance up at him, quickly looking back down, chuckling to yourself.
“I’m getting myself wet over here for you” you state the obvious, as some type of fair trade. The truth is you don’t even mind it. Clothes can always be washed, and you can always dry off and change afterwards.
What matters now is the snow leopard demihuman you have at hand and his burning body.
“You’ll watch me naked? How dirty” you chuckle at his attempt at being flirty and scandalous, happy he’s grown more comfortable around you since the day he got dropped off by your dad.
You don’t respond, refusing to throw him a bone to chew on and instead move to twist the knob, ice cold water pouring over you two while your other hand is still busy undressing him fully.
Satoru hisses as the unexpected coldness of it, both of his arms leaning onto the glass door behind you for support. “You’re evil”
Giggling, you hook your fingers in his waistband, knuckles slipping inside as you start freeing all clothes from him, letting the cold-water wash over every crevice of his feverish skin. He just stays there, taking it; for your sake more than for his.
Have this occurred a few weeks ago, when Satoru was a fairly new member in your home, he’d never allow you to see him in such a vulnerable situation. Not sick, exhausted, and especially not naked.
You don’t think he himself realises how close he has let you in, even more now that the fever has turned his brain into jelly.
Just a few weeks ago he was purposely trying to get on your nerves. You paid close attention to his body language, to the small tell-tale signs of distress and fear you’ve learned to pick up with him; like his twitchy ears and restless tail.
You could clearly tell he was trying to push you away in case you were th type to send him back to the shelter at the first sign of disobedience – his way of trying to protect himself before he got too attached.
You can’t blame him for any of this, and especially not when his first owner returned him when he grew too big to be their perfect little kitten.
Besides, he’s too adorable for you to get mad at, really. The way he’s trying not to shiver from the cold water just now is even more adorable. His ears are flat on his head, his head dropped low as he looks down at you, your hands resting gently on his hips, stabilizing him.
He doesn’t really need you holding him up when he’s leaning on the shower door, but he doesn’t mind it either. Its comforting, actually; the way you look at him like he’s everything and the only thing that matters to you right now, even when you yourself are shaking more than him.
Satoru’s body can handle lower temperatures than yours – the advantages of being a snow leopard demihuman. He makes a move to step closer, shielding you with his own body towering over you.
You stare at each other like that for a long moment, till the skin over his hips feels a little less scalding against your fingertips.
You didn’t have it in your heart to punish him for how he kept breaking your vases as a way of testing your patience and mercy. Having him get wet and cold right now surprisingly satiates that small craving to get revenge on him for it.
Water drops down your forehead from the tips of his hair, its color like wet snow under the showerhead. You feel a small shiver run down his body. In return, your fingers squeeze his hips a little tighter, smiling up at him. “That’s enough for today. Lets get you to bed” you tap your hand against his hips, leaning closer into him, your hand reaching closer.
He sucks in a sharp breath, eyes flitting around your face, slightly confused and in anticipation of something. You give him a small, evil smile, hand twisting the knob behind him.
His cheeks seem to redden at the realisation. Clearing his throat, he blinks down at you, ears and tail soggy, just like his hair. “My bed or yours?” he asks, following after you as you pull gently at his hand, throwing a towel over him as you start patting down his body.
“Ours” His ears seem to stand up instantly at that, silently blinking down at you. “Oh, wow” he whispers under his breath, and you act like you didn’t hear it, a slight smile painting your lips as you usher him back towards your only room in your new place – now yours and Satoru’s shared room.
Pushing him gently down onto your bed with a towel under his head, your sit with your knees folded under you between his parted legs. You start dressing him back up in warmer clothes, hoping he’d sweat the sickness out of his system soon enough.
Satoru can’t help but admire your every movement, his eyes tracking you – eyes mostly pinned to your face and hands, however. You haven’t looked at him in any way other than the sweet glances you keep giving him since he woke up this morning with a fuzzy brain.
You didn’t even look down past his hips when you were pressed against him in the shower. You feel his body run hotter instantly, not sure if it’s the fevers doing or caused by the current blooming warmth in his cheeks.
“Can I stay here with you?” He breaks the silence, watching you guide his hips up for you to slip a pair of comfy sweatpants over his legs. He complies, eyelids growing heavier, the coughs returning, lifting his hips to help.
“You already do, silly” You chuckle, looking up at him, the waistband snapping softly around his hips – but not before you press a soft, slow kiss to his right hipbone, feeling him tense at the action before instantly melting into your bed.
See? How can you ever get mad at him out of everyone. Him and his fluffy ears and tail waiting to dry, leaving wet spots on your matrass you try to ignore as you lay beside him, feeling his overly warm body curl further into you.
Just like a warm, soft, clingy house cat.
Daizzzy ᝰ.ᐟ
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