Work Text:
2014
Satoru didn’t like drinking.
He’d learned that very early on—alcohol tasted awful and it left him feeling terrible, so he simply decided to avoid it altogether. Not like he was missing anything, right?
But the thing was, Yura and Shoko actually really liked drinking. With them, going out together usually meant consuming alcohol one way or the other, and when Satoru tagged along, he could do nothing but watch.
Shoko was a heavyweight when it came to drinking, and Satoru still couldn’t understand how she was able to intake all that alcohol at once. Meanwhile, Yura’s tolerance may not have been as high as Shoko’s, but at least she kept to her limits.
Usually.
There were some times, when she would end up going a bit too far, drinking a bit too much, that Yura would eventually devolve into drunk Yura. Shoko would never reach that level of drunkenness and could get home just fine by herself—but a fully drunk Yura? Oh boy. Satoru did not trust her with her own safety, and so, with him there and sober, it ended up being his job to get her home safe.
“Come on, drunkie,” he said to her as he gently guided her away by the arm.
The three of them had gone to a bar that Saturday night, with Shoko and Yura drinking beer and cocktails until it got a little too much. It had happened quite suddenly though—Satoru guessed those cocktails Yura kept pounding back had had some sort of delayed reaction.
“’m not drunk,” Yura insisted, but let him guide her out of the establishment.
“Sure you’re not,” he replied, amused. Yura had a cute pouty look on her face, and he had to admit that a drunk Yura was actually pretty adorable.
Suddenly, Yura halted on the spot, making him stop alongside her. She had a strange, determined look on her face as she looked dead ahead, before she turned that look to him. “I wanna go karaoke,” she stated, dead serious.
Satoru snorted.
Yura pouted at him again, letting out a whine as she lightly hit his chest. “I mean it!” she insisted. “We haven’t done karaoke… in a really long time.”
That was true, and the offer was pretty tempting. Skipping to the nearest karaoke joint, just the two of them—it sounded fun, in theory. In reality, Yura was drunk off her ass, and she’d probably had enough excitement for the night.
Satoru sighed internally; he hated when Yura got drunk, because then he had to be the responsible one. And being the responsible one was no fun, he also wanted karaoke!
“I would,” Satoru eventually started, “if you weren’t five minutes away from puking all those cocktails back out.”
He poked her in the forehead to make a point.
Yura scowled, but it was still more of a pout. “I’m fine! I can do karaoke!”
He grinned, leaning close to her. “Yeah? Prove it.”
Yura only blinked up at him for a moment. “…Don’t wanna,” she eventually said, still pouting.
“That’s cause you’re drunk,” Satoru grinned, poking her in the forehead again.
That might have been too hard of a poke, or maybe Yura really was that drunk, because it sent her stumbling backwards en route to falling flat on her ass.
“Whoa, drunkie!” he said, grabbing her arms to keep her from falling. He tugged her back towards him, and he still wasn’t sure if he’d done it too hard again or if she was just too drunk to keep her balance, because she suddenly stumbled right into him instead.
Yura fell against his chest, his arms immediately circling her body on reflex. She let out an oof at the impact, her own hands coming up to grasp at his jacket.
“See?” he spoke up. “If we don’t get you home, you’re going to fall and break your neck like this.”
Yura only whined, the sound coming out muffled against his chest. But she didn’t move otherwise—actually, no, her feet ended up shifting just a little bit closer.
Satoru suddenly paused.
“Yura?” he eventually called, when the woman in his arms didn’t move at all. Yura only let out a hum in acknowledgement, and her hands on his jacket seemed to tighten some more. “You’re just going to stay there or…?”
Satoru glanced down at her, but when he shifted his head downward, it almost made his nose press against the top of her head.
“…’m cold,” she eventually responded, her head almost burrowing into his chest as she shifted even closer.
Satoru only pressed his lips together.
He would be lying if he said this didn’t feel nice—Yura’s warmth against him as she pressed herself into his chest. Like, real nice. Why couldn’t Yura do this when she wasn’t drunk?
Satoru sighed, eventually moving his arms to gently push her away from him. “Come on, drunkie,” he said softly, something inside of him twisting at the disappointed look on her face. He let out another sigh, pulling off his jacket before wrapping it around her shoulders. “Let’s get you home.”
Yura clutched at his jacket with a pout as he placed a hand on her back to guide her forward. He walked them both towards his car, Yura eventually slipping her own arms into his jacket so she could wear it herself, seemingly satisfied now. She didn’t fight him as he guided her to the passenger seat, even as she muttered about wanting to karaoke instead, and once she was safely inside his car, Satoru got in himself and started driving towards her place.
The trip went by with them mostly in silence, Yura settling against the window as she tugged his jacket around her body some more. A drunk Yura may have been cute, but she was also quiet—and that was just no fun.
“Next time, I’m cutting off your alcohol intake,” he told her, breaking the silence. But then Yura didn’t answer, and he briefly glanced at the passenger seat.
Asleep.
Satoru snorted.
As he finally pulled up by her apartment, getting out of the car and opening the passenger door to almost let Yura fall onto the pavement (he stopped it, of course), Satoru could only sigh.
…And stare a little bit, because she looked cute asleep like that.
Satoru eventually scooped her up in his arms, pulling her out of the car. Her head lolled against his shoulder for a moment, Yura briefly letting out a sound that might have been her sleep talking until he was eventually able to make out words.
“…where you taking me…” she mumbled, and Satoru realized she wasn’t actually fully asleep yet.
“I’m taking you home, drunkie,” he told her softly. He started making his way up her apartment building.
“…don wanna…” she mumbled some more, shifting her head ever so slightly against his shoulder.
He let out an amused huff. “Yeah? Where do you want to go then?”
Yura paused for a moment before she mumbled out, “…stay.”
He huffed out another laugh. “You want me to just drop you out here?”
Yura shook her head ever so slightly. “No,” she said. “…stay here…”
And as her hand tightened on his shirt, Satoru suddenly paused his steps.
…Why couldn’t Yura be this clingy without being drunk? If she were to ever ask him to carry her around—he could do that. He would do that, if she wanted him to.
Satoru let out a sigh, resuming his walk.
Yura was quiet as he walked up her building’s stairs, eventually reaching her floor and stopping in front of her apartment door. In lieu of trying to find her keys, he decided to just teleport inside right away, not wanting to jostle the woman in his arms any more than he had to. He wasn’t sure if she had actually fallen asleep or not—she was still clutching at his shirt, but he didn’t know if that meant she was still awake or if her hands had gotten stuck like that. Either way, he didn’t want to disturb her.
However, he eventually reached her bedroom, and it was time to place her down on the bed. Except that when he tried to do so, her fingers still refused to let go of him.
Satoru paused again, his hand covering hers. Yura definitely looked asleep, but her fingers were exerting enough force to make him think otherwise. For another long moment, Satoru could only stare at her maybe-sleeping face as a tiny voice in the back of his head kept telling him to keep her hand right where it was.
Her skin was soft underneath his fingertips, he noticed. He let his thumb brush over her knuckles once and then twice, before he shook himself out of it.
Satoru pried her hand off him with another sigh, placing it down gently on the bed and finally standing up. He removed her shoes and then covered her body with a bedsheet, satisfied that she was probably comfortable now aside from the incoming hangover she was sure to have in the morning.
His job there was done, he supposed.
…But was it? A thought suddenly struck him: what if she got sick and decided to puke—and ended up choking on her vomit? He couldn’t leave her there by herself, could he? That would simply be irresponsible. What kind of friend would he be if he did that?
Well… he supposed he could busy himself for the rest of the night somehow. He had gotten her that new TV, hadn’t he…
2016
Satoru really didn’t like drinking.
It still tasted awful, and he was sure it would only make him feel just as awful, so he kept avoiding it.
He would have to admit, though, that a tipsy Yura was pretty funny and adorable. So yes, he supposed that alcohol had some positive sides—that even though a drunk Yura forced him to become the responsible one for a change… she would often get so clingy in a way that Satoru could only enjoy it while it lasted.
“But I wanna karaoke,” Yura whined as they left the bar, clinging to his arm.
Seriously, what’s up with drunk Yura’s obsession with karaoke? Satoru simply had no clue.
“I’ve got no energy left,” Shoko told her. The doctor pulled out her phone, probably to call for a cab. “I’m gonna go home and just crash into bed.”
“Need someone to accompany you home, Ieiri-san?” Nanami asked, ever the gentleman. Satoru had to admit, alcohol also helped Nanami to loosen up…
“We’re going together,” Utahime responded instead, also pulling out her phone. “I’m crashing over at her place before I head back to Kyoto tomorrow.”
Satoru wasn’t paying much attention to the conversation around him, too busy being amused at Yura clinging to his arm even as he raised it and shook it around. She kept muttering about karaoke, pressing herself against his side (either for warmth or balance or maybe she was just that clingy when drunk).
“Satoru,” Shoko called, drawing his attention. He looked up at her. “You’ll take care of Yura?”
He nodded. “Yep.”
As that American expression went, this wasn’t his first rodeo. Over the years, he would regularly drive Yura back to her place after a night out like this, especially when she was drunk off her ass. It didn’t happen often, but it was an unspoken agreement between him and Shoko that he would be the one taking care of it—and of her.
“You better watch your manners, Gojo,” Utahime spoke up with a half-hearted scoff. “Don’t go doing anything inappropriate to her.”
Her words didn’t have much bite to them (he sure hoped she didn’t think he was that kind of guy), so she was probably still pissed at him over their little argument from back inside. Still, he gasped in indignation. “Excuse you, I’m a gentleman!” he replied.
Utahime only stared at him, unimpressed, but then Yura suddenly pouted next to him. “I wanna do inappropriate things…” she muttered, and Shoko let out a snort.
Both Utahime and Nanami raised an eyebrow at Yura.
Right, Shoko was the only one who actually knew that he and Yura had that friends with benefits thing going on, so this might have sounded a bit strange coming from Yura of all people…
Oh well.
As they all said their goodbyes, Satoru eventually started towards his car with Yura glued to his side. She had looped an arm through his, leaning half her weight on him, and Satoru didn’t hold back a smile—Yura was never this touchy while sober, at least not in public. So he would give alcohol this, at least.
“There’s a karaoke bar right there!” she called out suddenly, pointing at the next street over. There was not, in fact, a karaoke place there, and Satoru had to wonder if alcohol was making her hallucinate.
“I’m pretty sure you’re seeing things,” he told her, amused.
Yura shook her head. “No, there is one, see…” and Yura suddenly detached herself from him, intending to go exactly there.
Satoru wrapped an arm around her waist before she got too far, pulling her back to him. “No, no, drunkie, no karaoke for tonight.”
Yura was easily pulled to him, but he noticed she was pouting even harder. She crossed her arms over her chest with a huff, sulking.
Satoru’s smile widened.
“Where’re we going?” she asked, just as he was urging her inside his car.
“My place, ‘cause you’re drunk as hell and I feel like you need a babysitter throughout the night,” he replied.
Yura suddenly perked up at that, just as she was sitting down on the passenger seat. She looked up at him with wide, hopeful eyes. “Can we go have sex?”
Satoru paused at the unexpected question, but then he snorted. “Maybe if you weren’t drunk.”
She pouted. “But I wanna,” she whined. She tried reaching for him, but he shut the door on her face.
The ride back to his place wasn’t exactly quiet this time around. When Yura finally moved on from asking him for sex, she ended up turning the radio up and doing some karaoke herself right then and there. Satoru only grinned at her antics, because this kind of ridiculousness he could only get with a drunk Yura—so yes, fine, there was some appeal in drinking alcohol.
For other people, at least. He still didn’t feel like trying it ever again.
Things were fairly uneventful after they reached his apartment building, aside from Yura trying to wander off so he had to keep an arm firm around her waist. He hardly minded—if anything, it was just another excuse for him to hold her close, and he'd take any opportunity he could get.
“C’mon, let’s go,” he said as he urged them both inside his apartment.
Yura was pouting again, dragging her feet, as she still seemed resentful that she wasn’t going to get her way. “There’s no sex and no karaoke, wha’s the point?” she grumbled as he pushed her inside.
Satoru snorted as he closed the door behind them. “My lovely presence, of course,” he answered with a grin, starting to toe off his shoes.
As Yura let out a dismissive “Pfft,” he was reminded that a drunk Yura was still Yura. Sass and all.
Yura then started to very unsuccessfully try to remove her own shoes, which Satoru could only watch in amusement. There was a seat right there by the door, but Yura was trying to push off her boots while still standing… for some reason.
Satoru had to intervene before she slipped and broke her neck or something.
“Come on, Cinderella,” he said, swiping her up in his arms. “Let’s go get your shoes off.”
“…but in Cinderella the prince charming would put on her shoe…” Yura muttered, and the thought of her considering him her prince charming made him grin wide.
As Satoru carried Yura inside, he began thinking of his next steps. He should probably get Yura to a bed as soon as possible, let her sleep it off. The question was: what bed?
Yura had started sleeping over after sex more often now, but that’s just it: after sex. Satoru wasn’t sure whether he should put her to sleep in his own bed… but it should be fine, right? He was probably going to have to stay awake anyway to watch over her, and he had a few movies he had been meaning to watch…
Yeah, his bed should be fine. And when Yura realized he was carrying her to his bedroom, she suddenly perked up again.
“Sex?” she asked excitedly, and he laughed.
“Again, if you weren’t drunk,” he reminded her.
As Yura let out a disappointed whine, melting back against him, Satoru huffed out in amusement. Her forehead pressed against his cheek as he carried her over to the bed, and he gently deposited her sitting down by the edge. He then kneeled down in front of her to actually remove her shoes, peeling them off one by one as Yura watched him with a pout.
Her boots were only a matter of unzipping them and pulling them off, nothing too complicated. He was removing the last one when Yura finally moved herself, and then her hands were cupping his cheeks.
Satoru looked up at her, slightly surprised. Her touch was soft, almost tentative as she held his face in her hands, and it suddenly left Satoru wanting more. His own hands came up to cover her own, and when she pouted again, asking him, “No sex?” he then had to bite back a laugh.
So needy.
Yura’s pout increased. “Pleaaaase?”
So, so needy. This was the neediest he’d ever heard her sound, and it got Satoru contemplating actually giving her what she wanted. How could he refuse her when she was asking him like that? Maybe he could give her an orgasm or two so she could go to bed satisfied…
He mentally shook himself out of it—with her this drunk it still felt weird. Maybe tomorrow, when she would actually be sober…
“No sex,” he told her, seeing her face scrunch up in disappointment. “You go to bed.”
But just as he was about to pull her hands off him, she spoke up again. “Not even a kiss?”
Satoru paused, then let out another amused huff. Well, he could give her that, couldn’t he?
So he leaned forward, capturing her lips with his own.
Yura drew in a surprised breath as their lips met, but she soon caught up and began moving her mouth along with his. She tasted like booze still, which was not his favorite flavor of Yura, but it was still Yura—not much to complain about otherwise. Her lips were still soft, and they still molded to his just right, moving against him with the same ease and familiarity as if she weren’t drunk at all. Satoru kept it slow and gentle as he let his lips caress hers, enjoying it just as much as her. But he eventually had to pull away, separating himself from her, and the leftover dazed look on her face made him smile.
“There. You happy?” he asked, still smiling. “Now off to bed, drunkie.”
Yura didn’t fight him as he urged her to lie down, pulling the bedsheets on top of her. She actually seemed happy, burrowing into his pillow with a contented sigh that had Satoru feeling a little funny on the inside.
With Yura finally asleep, Satoru started his usual nightly routine. He took a shower, throwing on some sweatpants before moving into the kitchen for a snack—since this was going to be one of his non-sleeping nights, he’d better put some sugar in his stomach. There was some leftover cake in the fridge, he happily noticed, and he served himself a slice or two out of it. There were also plenty of non-sweet things there, which he didn’t use to keep around until Yura started sleeping over—so tomorrow she would also have enough to eat for breakfast after she woke up… if her stomach allowed.
Food now in hand, Satoru flopped down on his couch, turning the TV on. There was this new campy horror trilogy he’d been meaning to watch, so today was as good a day as any, right?
Stretching his legs out on the chaise, Satoru started the movie and took a bite out of his cake.
And then another.
And then one more.
And suddenly the cake was gone.
Satoru sighed in disappointment, setting the plate down on the couch next to him. It wasn’t even twenty minutes into the movie…
As he contemplated just grabbing the remaining cake and finishing it all up, Satoru felt something moving. That something was none other than Yura; when he turned his head, peeking through the walls with his Six Eyes, he spotted her shuffling out of bed and into the bathroom. Well, fair enough, he supposed. She didn’t seem to be having any balancing issues, and it looked like she was just going to use the toilet, but he still kept an eye out to make sure she wasn’t going to slip and break her neck or something.
Nope—Yura was done and she headed right back to bed. Good, he thought. Yura hadn’t been as drunk as some other times, when he’d had to hold her hair back as she puked her guts out.
Satoru was about to return to his movie when he suddenly felt Yura moving again. And this time, she was heading straight to him.
“Really, drunkie?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at the almost sleepwalking woman shuffling towards him. “Go back to bed.”
Yura didn’t respond as she continued to approach him. Satoru kept staring at her, wondering what she was about to do, when she eventually knelt down on the chaise he was lying on. He continued to stare as she crawled up on the seat, right next to him, and then she was suddenly plopping her body right against his.
Both of his eyebrows were raised as Yura slotted herself under his armpit—was she going to ask for sex again? He was about to poke fun at her, but then her head came to rest on his chest, an arm wrapping around his midriff, and she let out a low, contented hum.
Satoru only continued to stare. As she shifted her body, making herself comfortable against him, he stared some more.
Yura fell still after that. Her eyes were closed, cheek pressed against his chest, and Satoru felt a smile slowly spread across his face whether he liked it or not—so she wanted to cuddle?
He could do that. He could enjoy that. Satoru wrapped an arm around her shoulders, tugging her body closer, and the way she hummed against him only made his smile widen.
“Alright, drunkie,” he said, keeping her snug and comfortable against him. He then pressed his lips to the top of her head, still smiling. “I’ll let you use me as a pillow.”
Yura didn’t answer, having apparently fallen asleep. Satoru was more than happy to stay there just like that, as he finished watching his movie—all three of them—letting his fingers mindlessly brush against her hair every now and then. Even if his heart was doing a strange dance inside his chest, her warmth against him had his whole body relaxing in contentment.
Yeah, a drunk Yura wasn’t too bad…
