pairing: satosugu x reader
synopsis: You got injured on a mission, and though Suguru is worried about you, you both know Satoru would freak out more if he found out.
contents: fluff bc i think the world needs more satosugu fluff. reader is injured on a mission; yall aren't dating but the feelings are obvious on all sides; shoko is done w yall; dramatic!satoru but it's justified
playing: mystery of love - sufjan stevens
You sigh, reclined back on the medical table, exposed skin goose bumping from the cold air flowing through the room. You look down at Shoko who has her hands hovering over the deep gash in your abdomen, her reversed curse technique slowly piecing the torn muscle and skin back together.
“I’m sorry about this,” you push out, the pain still tightening your vocal cords even with your experience.
She snickers, her dark eyes flicking up to you, “It’s no problem to me, you’re helping me train, but those two might lose it.” At the thought of your other classmates, your eyes flicker up to the ceiling.
“Dunno why,” you mutter, “it’s not like they can expect me to not get injured--” at that the door slides open and in the threshold is one of your classmates in the flesh, Suguru Geto.
“Speak and he shall appear,” the words slide out of Shoko’s mouth, but Suguru pays her no mind. His gaze is fixed on your figure, and though you should be embarrassed at the expanse of your body that’s on display, you know exactly what he’s looking at.
“So you are injured.” His deep voice rings through the room. He takes a single step in the room, before he’s blinking like he remembers something, and checks behind him in both directions before quickly sliding the door closed. He turns back to you, namely at the pool of blood gathered underneath your back, and quickly steps closer to you. He sinks into the chair, though his body stays tense likes he’s preparing for something. His brows furrow in an uncharacteristically worried way and you immediately want to placate him.
“It’s not as bad as it looks,” you say.
“No it was much worse before this.” Shoko immediately counters. You gasp, your head flying back to hers, and she just shrugs, “I can’t lie about a patient.” Rolling your eyes, you look back at Suguru and lock your gaze with his.
“What happened?” You try to hum noncommittedly, eyes darting over his shoulder. His hand covers yours from where it’s holding your shirt up, and your throat tightens again, this time not because of the pain. You meet his gaze once more, he commands you, “and don’t lie.”
You pout before you can control it, looking at where his hand grasps yours. “A stupid curse got the jump on me before I was expecting it,” you mutter. Your eyes lock back on Suguru’s face, your own turning into one of determination, as you finish, “but I immediately took care of it, so I’m serious, you don’t have to worry.” At your words some of the tension eases out of his shoulders. He sighs, a deep ragged one, much beyond his age, as he looks down at Shoko who has healed the gash as much as she has deemed necessary. You look at her then too as she indicates for you to sit up. At the first movement however, you wince, and immediately Suguru has his hands stationed around your back to help lift you. You freeze and there is a long silent moment. Your cheeks warm, and Shoko clears her throat as she looks away and you rise the rest of the way.
You look back at Suguru questioningly and now he’s the one who can’t meet your gaze.
“Don’t want you to overexert yourself so soon,” he mutters.
“Yeah right,” Shoko mumbles, and he shoots a glare in her direction, though she pretends not to notice, wiping down the bed. Even after you’ve fully inclined, his hands don’t leave as she starts preparing the gauze to wrap around your body.
“Suguru,” you say softly, “it’s alright-”
“No,” he counters, “I’ve got you.” Shoko gives the both of you an extremely exaggerated eye roll, though neither of you notice.
“Well if you insist on staying so close, Suguru, at least hold this,” she nods down towards the end of the gauze that she’s holding right under your rib. He nods, looking at you for approval, and once you give it to him, he carefully places his palm over the end of the material. You both pretend not to notice how your muscle jumps under his warm skin. You blink, looking straight ahead over Shoko’s shoulder to avoid the warming of your skin at the press of his large (and quite frankly gorgeous) hand.
It’s silent for a long moment as Shoko continues to unravel and wrap.
It’s Suguru who decides to break it.
“You know we can’t tell Satoru.”
You laugh, though the motion momentarily stings.
“Yeah, he’d freak wouldn’t he.” Suguru hums his assent, giving you a humorous smirk from the corner of his eye.
“Yeah, especially since he was the one who told you not to go on missions alone,” he reminds. You immediately scoff. After the fight with Tojo Fushiguro where you almost fucking died, Satoru has been adamant that you’re supervised when you go out of missions even though you’ve demonstrated that you can definitely hold your own in combat.
“Right yeah,” you remark, “it’s not like I’m a jujutsu sorcerer who’s frequently expected to do solo missions or anything.”
It's Suguru who laughs now, his eyes doing that really pretty thing where they crinkle in the corner, as you try your hardest not to stare.
“Right, yeah.” He echoes.
A sharp tug at your bandages draws your attention back to Shoko, as she is tucking the remaining bandage to assure it stays in place. She hums, noting her completion.
“Well it looks like you’re good to go-,” her words break as the door slides open, revealing the one person who you didn’t want to see.
His crystal blue eyes are wide as he pants, both arms braced on each door frame. You and Suguru share a glance before turning to Satoru.
He takes in everything right in front of him, Suguru’s hand braced on your back (he’ll return to that later), the almost imperceptible wince still on your brow betraying your discomfort, the thick gauze wrapped around your abdomen, and most importantly, the stains of blood that Shoko didn’t fully wipe up.
His body seems to thrust itself into the room, and he sinks into a chair conveniently already placed beside Suguru, his eyes burning a hole through your body.
“What happened,” he breathes, like the words themselves could no longer stay inside.
“Satoru,” you begin to placate him, just as you did Suguru, “I'm okay, it's just a scratch—,”
“No,” he interrupts, “you're still shaking.” His eyes have zeroing into the almost imperceptible tremble in your hands. You don't even know how he noticed it.
“Well yeah,” you confirm, knowing there's no point in trying to lie. That's the thing about Satoru, even though sometimes he pretends not to notice, he notices everything about you. Always. His bright eyes continue to scan your body even now, trying to see if there's any further injury not privy to him.
A warm hand covering his own stops his searching. His eyes meet yours.
“Seriously,” you nod, “I'm okay, Shoko's taking care of me.” He looks at her for a moment, like he's just now realizing that she's in the room. But the crease between his brows does not disappear.
“I told you not to go on missions alone,” his voice was low, like he the words were fighting to come out, “especially after—” his voice trailed off, but the silence spoke the words he didn't.
“I know, you did tell me,” you confirm, “but I'm a sorcerer too, I can't expect to always have someone to cover me in combat." Satoru's lips purse at your statement that he knows he can't exactly refute. He flips his hand and intertwines his fingers with yours.
“You shouldn't have to though,” his grip tightening, “I can come with or Suguru or even Nanami.” You giggle at the idea of your junior being forced to tag along at the behest of his senior.
“I feel like there's nothing less that Nanami would want to do,” you muse.
“Hmm,” Suguru adds, unable to resist the chance to tease Satoru, “I don't know, you are like the only other person he tolerates. Aside from Haibara." Satoru's lips twist in discomfort.
“Okay so maybe not Nanami then,” he rescinds. With that you actually burst into a full laugh, the sound reverberating around the small room, while Suguru grins and Shoko offers a warm smile. The sound is what finally causes Satoru to lighten, releasing pressure on your hand, and his eyes widening at the joyous sound that he was able to pull out of you.
You bring your other hand to cover your giggles, your shirt falling over the gauze and Suguru's hand still over your back. Once your giggles finally cease, you look over at them both, crowded beside the bed. Warmth emanates from Suguru's eyes and while concern still bleeds from Satoru, there is something else there behind his eyes that makes them glitter.
“Thanks Toru,” you smile at him, “I did really need that.” At the compliment, his chest puffs, all previous worry evaporating as you knew it would.
“Yeah obviously,” he scoffs, “I'm like the funniest person ever.” You can basically hear the eye rolls from both Suguru and Shoko.
“But seriously,” you're the one to grip his hand now, “I'm okay, tired, but okay.” You confirm, forcing him to meet your gaze. Satoru pouts at your words, still a little upset, but not nearly as much when he first saw your condition. He looks over to his best friend who also nods in agreement, though a wisp of worry still lingers in his own expression. At Suguru's confirmation, he looks back at you.
“Well, if you're tired then we need to get you into bed asap,” he shoots out of his seat. You blink and suddenly you've been scooped up into his arms. Suguru balks in surprise in his seat, and Shoko yelps.
“Be careful with her you idiot,” she almost shrieks, arms stretched out like she doesn't trust Gojo not to drop you.
“Obviously, I'm gonna,” he sticks his tongue out at her. In the midst of their bickering about your wellbeing, Suguru stands from his chair, and uses a single hand to settle your hair down. You tilt your head back to look at him, looking at his expression and the single silent question resting on his features, you okay? You nod, and he smiles back.
You've not been listening to Shoko and Satoru, so when you look back at him, he has that puppy-esque expression that denotes his guilt pointed at you. You're not exactly sure what he seems to be apologizing for, but you can make an educated guess.
“It's okay Satoru,” you assume it's due to his speedy grab of you, forgetting that you have a healing wound, “but you don't need to carry me.”
“Of course I do,” his answer is immediate, “especially now! How can we expect you to walk in these conditions.” His feet have already started carrying him to the door that's still hanging open.
“We have to get you to your quarters immediately!” He cartoonishly mimics the British accent of a knight returning a fair maiden to her safe haven, that you're sure he saw in one of those old cheesy historical romcoms. You can't help but snicker, unknowing that the more you react to his childish whims, the more he doubles down on them, just to see you smile. You look over his shoulder at Suguru, eyes pleading.
“Don't ask me to help you,” he shrugs, “you really did this to yourself.” You pout, folding your arms. You look back at Shoko before you lose sight of her completely.
“Well thanks for all of your help Shoko," you say, but she waves you off, a grin raising to her face that she can't control. She watches the three of you leave, your voices trailing down the corridor even though she can't see you all anymore.
She scoffs, looking back to the station that she has to clean. A single thought comes to her head, you're all idiots.
a/n: tapping into my satosugu roots after my itasfushi fics! always loving a comfort fic,, expect more satosugu works
-mdni. all characters aged up, dividers by @diviniyae, photos pulled from pinterest
