Summary: Sai likes touching his wife. He's randomly reminded of the little details of anime figures as he touches her.
Rating: Teen
Ship: SaiHua [Dr. STONE x OC]
Tags: Fluff, Reverent Touching, Body Worship, Nerd Talk, Comparing Your Wife To A Damn Figurine, Idiots In Love, No Beta We Die Like Byakuya Ishigami
Word Count: 1,579 words
𐙚────ᝰ.ᐟ₊ ⊹
Whenever Sai touched Hua like this, it never felt hurried. It never felt like the fumbling curiosity of someone simply wanting skin for skin's sake. It felt more like study melded and wrapped in worship. His fingers drifted like the tip of a pen across parchment, as though her body was a manuscript he could never grow tired of deciphering.
He has seen her bare before; more than once. In the chaotic tangle of nights together, in hurried moments stolen behind closed doors, and in soft quiet mornings where neither of them said anything at all. Where most people might eventually grow accustomed, he seemed to grow more enchanted, as if every repetition was a fresh discovery.
His hand began at her shoulder, his palm warm as it slid down the slope of her arm until his thumb found the faint hollow of her wrist. His fingers lingered around her carpal ligament, memorizing the fragile pulse that came with each arc. He then retraced his path upwards until his fingertips brushed the line of her collarbone, like a cartographer mapping holy ground.
Hua lay still beneath him, because she knew that if she shifted, she'd break the trance-like state her lover was in.
Sai's eyelids lowered as his thoughts drowned out everything else, his irises following the line his fingers took as his brow faintly furrowed in concentration. The pads of his fingers trailed over her sternum, tracing the quiet rhythm of her breaths. When his hand passed over her ribs, he counted them silently in the same way he counted keystrokes and lines of code, as though reassuring himself that they're all there.
When he drifted lower, his palm flattened against the gentle curve of her stomach. Hua felt warmth spread through her chest. There was no hunger in his gaze-- only awe. The same kind of awe he gets from holding a polished circuit board that finally came to life after hours of tweaking.
Her hair spilled like ink across the pillow, and he brushed a stray strand back behind her ear before continuing. His fingers grazed her jaw, outlining her throat.
She closed her eyes, sinking into it. In Sai's hands, she was not an object of lust. She was a beloved puzzle. A rare treasure. A figure on his desk he could look at every single day and never ever tire of.
His hands, having made their slow pilgrimage over her stomach, dipped lower, brushing the gentle swell of her hips. He kneaded the skin there lightly, thumbs pressing into the pliant give of her body. His fingers traced along the stretch marks near her hypogastric region.
"You know... if you were a figure, you'd probably be seven hundred dollars minimum--"
Hua immediately sat up on her elbows, staring at him. The most disorienting part? He murmured that at her with eyes flicking up and down, his gaze holding the intensity of someone assessing a rare collectible. The words that came out of his mouth somehow left her smart mouth with nothing to say.
".. Sai-"
"What-?"
He blinked at her, utterly guileless, genuinely not understanding why she sounded so scandalized.
"Hair alone, the sculptors would have hell with details! Look at it!"
Before she could protest, his hand abandoned her thigh and reached up to gather a handful of her hair. His calloused fingers combed reverently through the wavy brown strands, pausing where black and white streaks naturally weaved their way in. He separated them with meticulous care, then held them out like precious threads.
"See? Triple tone. This isn't dye-- you can't fake this."
He twirled a lock between his fingers.
"And the waves aren't uniform. Each strand behaves differently. That's hell for any sculptor… but worth it to anyone getting the figure."
Hua hid her face in her palms, groaning, but he didn't stop when she did that. In fact, he got even more animated.
"Not to mention the ahoge tufts…"
He gently lifted the curled strands that never quite behaved; those little horns of hers that sprang upwards no matter what she did.
"They'd have to make a whole separate mold for these. It's probably fragile in shipping. Definitely limited edition stuff."
Then he let go, only to tilt her chin up with two fingers, his gaze sharp as if he was analyzing every millimeter of her face.
"Your eyes.. the sculptors would need translucent resin for that depth. Otherwise it would just look flat. And the way they shift color in different light?"
His thumb traced beneath her lower eyelid, careful not to poke at her eye.
"That alone adds at least a hundred bucks to production."
Her stretch marks caught his attention. His fingers skimmed them, callouses gliding across the silvery streaks with a tenderness that made her stomach flip.
"And this… you would think they'd buff this out. Standard figures don't include details like this. But on a premium edition? They'd keep it. At least I would-"
He pressed a little firmer into the marks, as if reassuring himself they were still there and he didn't hallucinate each jagged line.
"I am not a collectible-"
His hands trailed lower again; down to her thighs. He dug his fingers gently into the soft dimples of cellulite, squeezing as though he was testing resistance.
"No two pieces would be exactly alike. I'd pay extra just for this."
She peeked at him between her fingers, torn between outrage and laughter.
"You are unbelievable..."
He ignored her protest, already sliding his hands along the curve of her calves down to the lines of her ankles.
"Sculpting the legs would be hell too. Balance issues could happen. But yours--"
His thumb stroked across her shin, getting a feel of each slope.
"Your legs are probably stable and sturdy. The base would never tip."
By the time he took her foot in his hand, massaging gently along the arch with all the intensity of a man comparing prototypes, Hua was melting and hysterical at the same time.
"You have a beautiful woman bare in front of you... And this is what you talk about.."
"Look, if you were a naked figure you'd double in price."
"Sai-!"
"What-?"
Hua collapsed back into the sheets, dying inside as laughter erupted out of her.
"Gods, you are impossible-"
"Actually, if they added proper base support and articulation, maybe even a magnetic stand, you would cost even more..."
Her breath caught. That softness in his tone, completely at odds with his ridiculous comparisons, made her heart stutter. Still, she scrambled for the upper hand, grasping at her dignity.
"Alright... If I was a doll, would you commission dresses for me…?"
Sai didn't even look caught off guard. He's resting his cheek lazily against her thigh now, one hand absentmindedly tracing slow circles against the other. His eyes flicked up to her with that patient analytical gaze that always made her feel too exposed. After so many years of being together, he's finally gotten used to her teasing. Or rather, he's found a rhythm that gave him a momentary immunity to it.
"I literally pay Yuzuriha to make your dresses."
He said it in such a matter of fact tone, like he was pointing out a line of code she missed. His thumb pressed a little deeper into her skin, drawing another circle.
"I already do that.... Only difference is you're not a doll on my desk..."
Her stomach flipped. She wanted to laugh, but his tone was so simple and so serious, that it ended up coming out as a half-choked sound.
A mischievous little spark flickered in her eyes.
"And what if I turned into a doll, hmm?"
Hua asked, her tone teasing, expecting him to sputter or roll his eyes. Sai paused for exactly one beat. Then, without lifting his head, he answered as if she just asked him a basic programming question.
"Then I'd keep you on my desk."
".. Excuse me..?"
"I'd dust you every morning," he added, the tone utterly solemn. His fingers lightly pinched the softness of her thigh, emphasizing his point. "Figures collect dust if you don't take care of them. I wouldn't let that happen."
"But-"
"Huaaaa.... I'm trying to enjoy my thigh time."
Sai cut her off without even lifting his head, his cheek still firmly pressed against her thigh.
"Your.. what-"
"Do you know how long I've dreamed about this?"
He said flatly, as if she was a beloved invention throwing an error at 6 in the morning. His finger absentmindedly drew another slow circle into the soft skin of her other thigh.
"Ever since I was a teen. That was over thirty seven hundred years ago. Let me have my thigh time..."
Hua just stared at him, scandalized and half choking on her own laugh. She groaned, flopping dramatically back against the pillows.
"I went from doll to glorified pillow."
"hey, this is premium stuff. This pillow can talk to me."
Sai corrected instantly, voice muffled against her skin. She slapped her hands over her burning face.
"I abhor you."
His hand squeezed gently at her thigh, thumb digging into her cellulite with that same absent-minded reverence.
"You don't... That's why you're letting me have my thigh time."
"You quite literally have a dazzling naked woman lying in bed for you-" She gestured to herself with a dramatic wave of her hand. "-and your main focus is… what? Worshipping me like a doll and using me as a pillow?"
He tilted his head just enough to glance up at her, completely unbothered.
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