6’3 giant
you’re on the couch scrolling through your phone when the front door clicks open and nagi seishiro shuffles in like a sleepy giraffe who just lost the will to live. he’s still in his training kit, hair damp, earbuds dangling around his neck, and the second he spots you he lights up in that lazy way of his.
“hey,” he mumbles, kicking off his shoes without bending down. “missed you.”
“you saw me four hours ago, sei.”
“four hours is long.” he’s already crossing the room in those stupid long strides. “i’m tired.”
and before you can brace yourself, he just… drops. full 6’3, ninety kilos of pure muscle and laziness, straight onto you like a falling tree.
“oof—sei!” your phone flies out of your hand, lands somewhere on the carpet. your spine makes a noise it definitely shouldn’t. “you’re crushing me!”
he doesn’t move. just nuzzles his face into your neck and sighs like this is the comfiest spot in the room. “you’re warm. and soft. perfect.”
“i’m about to be flat” you wheeze, trying to shove at his shoulders. it’s like pushing a wall. “get off, you human weighted blanket!”
he makes a whiny little sound (actually whines) and wraps his arms tighter around your waist. “five more minutes. reo made me run suicides. my legs are dead.”
“your legs are dead on top of me, that’s the problem!”
he finally lifts his head just enough to blink at you with those sleepy gray eyes. “piggyback me to the bedroom then.”
you stare at him. “are you actually serious right now? you’re 190 cm and you want me to carry you?”
“yeah” he says, completely straight faced. “you’re strong. you did squats last week.”
“i did bodyweight squats! for ten reps! not to carry my giant boyfriend!”
he flops back down, cheek smushed against your collarbone.“too much effort to walk. just roll me there.”
“i will literally die.”
he hums, already half asleep, his full weight pressing you into the couch cushions until you’re pretty sure you’re becoming one with the fabric. your lungs are doing part time work at this point.
“seishiro, i can’t breathe.”
“mm. dramatic.”
“i’m serious, i’m seeing spots.”
he finally (finally) shifts, but only enough to slide down a little so his head is on your chest instead of your throat. progress.
“better?”
“slightly.” you thread your fingers through his damp hair just so he doesn’t get any ideas about moving again. “you’re literally built like a skyscraper and you still want piggybacks. explain.”
“cause it’s funny when you try” he mumbles into your shirt.
“you make that little angry noise. like a kitten.”
“i will bite you.”
“kinky.”
you pinch his ear and he barely flinches. instead he just grabs your waist and rolls so you’re both sideways on the couch, him still basically on top but now it’s more like he’s spooning you into the backrest. his legs tangle with yours, one arm draped over you like you’re his personal body pillow.
“this is worse” you complain, even though you’re already relaxing because he smells like sweets, shampoo and home. “i’m trapped.”
“good” he says, voice muffled against your shoulder. “don’t move. ever.”
ten minutes later you need to pee.
“sei. sei. i need to get up.”
“no.”
“i will pee on you.”
he pauses, considers this very seriously, then sighs the most put upon sigh in the history of mankind and rolls off you. just straight onto the floor with a thud.
you sit up, gasping for air like you’ve been underwater. “are you okay??”
he’s sprawled on his back, staring at the ceiling. “floor’s nice. cool.”
“you’re weird.”
he lifts one arm toward you without looking. “piggyback. now.”
“no!”
“please?” he turns his head, gives you the most pathetic puppy eyes known to man. it’s unfair. he knows it’s unfair. he’s weaponizing the fact that he’s adorable and it’s working.
you groan, already standing up. “fine. but if my spine snaps, you’re explaining it to my mom.”
he lights up (actual sparkles you swear) and scrambles to his feet. “you’re bent like a folding chair, how am i supposed to—”
“just get on.”
“mm” he hums.
you feel him climb onto your back with absolutely zero urgency. he takes his time, arms sliding around your shoulders, chin dropping onto your head like he’s settling into a pillow.
the second his full weight hits you, your soul leaves your body.
you make a sound somewhere between a wheeze and a prayer.
“oh my god—sei, you’re actually heavy as hell.”
“you’re doing great” he mumbles.
“i’m not even doing anything yet!”
“still proud.”
you shuffle forward one step.
then another.
your legs are shaking. your spine is holding on through pure hope.
he, meanwhile, is completely relaxed. like he’s on a theme park ride.
you manage to make it down the hallway, each step sounding like a dramatic final act.
he’s so damn heavy, but the worst part is how comfortable he is. he keeps adjusting like you’re a mattress.
“stop moving” you hiss. “you’re making it worse.”
“sorry” he mumbles, and then immediately shifts again.
you nearly tip over.
“SEI!”
he laughs—actually laughs—soft and sleepy into your hair.
“it’s funny when you try” he says again.
“you’re very lucky you’re cute.”
you reach the bedroom like you’ve just climbed a mountain.
you stagger to the bed and drop forward.
he slides off you at the last second, flopping onto the mattress like he’s made of jelly.
you collapse on top of him, face down, breathing like you just ran a marathon.
“stay.”
“i’m not sleeping on top of you, you’ll suffocate.”
“i’ll be fine” he says, voice muffled. “i’ve survived reo’s pep talks. this is nothing.”
you manage to wriggle free and flop next to him instead. instantly he rolls over, throws one ridiculously long leg over yours, and shoves his face into your neck again.
“you’re clingy today” you say, poking his cheek.
“training sucked. chigiri said i looked ‘motivated’ and made me do extra drills.” he says it like he went through war. “need to recharge.”
“on me?”
“best charger.”
you roll your eyes but let him settle his full weight half on top of you again, his head on your chest, one arm snug around your waist. he’s heavy, yeah, but it’s also kind of nice. like a nagi shaped weighted blanket that breathes and occasionally whispers “hassle” in its sleep.
“if you fall asleep like this you’re gonna crush my ribs” you warn.
“i’ll move in a minute” he mumbles, already slipping.
he doesn’t move for three hours.
when you wake up it’s dark outside and nagi’s still draped over you like a koala who forgot how gravity works. you can barely feel your left arm.
“seishiro.”
“mm.”
“get off before i become a pancake.”
he makes a sad little noise but rolls just enough to let you breathe. then immediately pulls you back against his chest, legs tangled, chin on your head.
“better” he says, satisfied.
“you’re actually SO lucky i like you” you grumble into his shirt.
“you’re lucky i fit in your bed” he counters.
“barely.”
he hums, already drifting again. “worth it.”
and yeah. with his heartbeat thumping steady under your cheek and his ridiculous limbs everywhere, it kind of is. even if your back is screaming and you’re ninety percent sure he’s going to ask for another piggyback tomorrow.
and you’ll probably say yes.
