coming home to nanami is like coming home to an angel.
he waits up for you. you tell him not to as you slide your feet into strappy sandals at the door, tiny purse hanging over your shoulder. he’s nursing a cup of tea in the hallway and waves you off instead of replying, because your lip gloss had already smudged against his cheekbones where you kissed him on both sides of his face.
he waits up for you anyway, putting a pot of coffee on for one and reading idly as he waits for your wine drunk self to stumble into your shared place, fighting with your shoes and whining in the dark.
he rises to his feet as he finishes his coffee and appears in front of you as if he had teleported to your aid. you gasped softly before breaking into giggles and looping your arms around his neck. “kentooo! i told you not to wait up f’ me! ‘s not fair to youuuu.”
he lets out a breath, one of those huffy laughs through his nose as he steadies you on your feet with those broad, thick hands of his on your waist. “hush, pretty thing. you’re fine. stay still.”
he slides his hands down your figure as he crouches to one knee, lifting your leg up by the knee to plant your foot on his thigh to undo the straps of one sandal, and then the other, decorating your calves with kisses that make you burst into laughter. you always get giddy when you drink wine, it’s endearing to him.
he stands and wraps an arm around your waist to guide you to your shared bedroom, nudging the door closed. he’s careful with you as he helps you get your dress up and over your head, hands warm and smooth as he guides the tiny shorts you had on for protection off of your frame, followed by your bra.
you shiver and whine in the dark, the cold air making you cover your chest. “you keep it so cold, kento!”
“you sleep better in the cold,” he murmurs, tossing your clothing into the hamper and walking back with one of his shirts. “arms up.”
you comply, and his shirt slides over your arms and your head pops through with ease. “are you gonna let me help you get your makeup off?”
“no! too sleepy. ‘n im cold. cuddle me.” you reached to him, grabby hands at the ready, and he just let out a breath, because he knew you were going to complain about clogged pores and breakouts in the morning.
it was worth it though, what with the way he got to pull you close like you were some kind of precious doll, holding you tight as you immediately passed out cold.
