Shared a bed accidentally- Komori
Your friends had dragged you out for your 21st birthday, and you had definitely celebrated a little harder than you’d expected. Between the cocktails, shots, and celebratory toasts, you were definitely tipsy—maybe more than tipsy. By the end of the night, you had no idea how you got back to your apartment… or rather, to your friend’s apartment.
Sakusa had introduced you to Komori a few times, you've also hung around him through his roommate, and you’d always thought he was… interesting. Calm, almost too composed, with a kind of quiet charisma that didn’t shout for attention but made people notice anyway. Tonight, though, he wasn’t someone you were consciously thinking about.
The last thing you remembered was staggering down the hall, fumbling for your friend’s apartment keys. The door swung open, and you stumbled inside, completely forgetting which bed was yours to crash on. Your vision was blurry, and your balance wobbly. You crawled toward the nearest bed, thinking it was your friend’s, and promptly collapsed onto it. Warmth, arms, and a steady heartbeat met you immediately. You were too drunk to process it and too exhausted to care.
“Uh… hey,” a soft voice murmured.
You blinked groggily. “Mm… hi…” you mumbled, burying your face into the warmth pressing against you.
It wasn’t your friend. It was Komori.
He froze, obviously trying not to startle you, letting you sleep while he tried to figure out what to do without waking you. His calmness made it almost… comfortable. You shifted slightly in your sleep, tangling your arm around his torso without thinking. The warmth of his body was calming in a way that made your drunken haze even dreamier. You two weren't exactly close but weren't strangers either.
Morning came slowly, sunlight creeping through the blinds. Your head throbbed slightly from too much fun, and when you stirred, you realized you weren’t in your own bed. Worse—or maybe better—you were tangled up with Komori, his arms wrapped securely around you, one hand resting lightly on your side.
“Uh…” you whispered, trying not to move too quickly.
Komori stirred but didn’t release you. “Morning,” he said softly, his voice low and careful. “You… fell asleep on me.”
Your face burned red as you tried to untangle yourself, fumbling with your limbs. “I—I’m so sorry! I thought this was… I mean, I didn’t—” you stammered, eyes wide.
He let out a small laugh, surprisingly gentle. “It’s… fine,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You were tired. You looked like you needed rest.”
You froze, not used to this side of him. Calm, patient, almost… tender. You remembered all the times you’d seen him through Sakusa’s friend circle—always composed, a little distant. This was different. Vulnerable, in the right way.
“I… I didn’t mean to…” you mumbled, finally resting your head back against his chest, realizing you weren’t ready to move just yet.
“You didn’t,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your hair. “You’re fine.”
The rest of the morning passed slowly, quiet except for soft conversation and awkward glances. You talked about trivial things—classes, Sakusa, the upcoming volleyball game—but every so often your hand brushed against his, and neither of you pulled away.
By the time you finally sat up, properly awake and a little embarrassed, Komori gave you a small, almost shy smile. “Next time… maybe make sure you’re in the right bed,” he teased softly.
Your stomach flipped. “Right… yeah. Right bed,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.
He chuckled quietly, his eyes locking with yours for just a moment longer than necessary. There was something about the calm certainty in him, the patience, the quiet warmth that made your chest tighten.
“I… I don’t mind,” he added softly, almost as if he was thinking aloud. “Being… here. With you.”
Your heart skipped. You could feel it pounding as you reached out, brushing your fingers against his hand that rested on the bed. “I… don’t either,” you admitted.
The tension between you was subtle but electric. It wasn’t bold or demanding—it was gentle, mutual, a silent understanding of the closeness that had started accidentally but could become something more.
Later that week, you found yourself looking forward to the small moments—the coffee runs together, the study sessions, the brief texts about Sakusa or volleyball, always underlined by a quiet intimacy neither of you had to force. That night at the 21st birthday party had been a mistake… or maybe it had been the beginning of something neither of you could ignore.
And every time your fingers brushed against his now, every accidental touch, every quiet smile shared across the room, you remembered that first morning—tangled together in his arms, safe, warm, and completely yours, even if it had started by accident.
