Chapter Text
Manu likes to be held.
Not necessarily in a little spoon kind of way, but he likes having someone's arms around him, cuddling him and holding him close.
He especially likes it because it's one of the only times Thomas is really quiet. Not that he doesn't like Thomas bright and cheerful and annoyingly loud- in fact, it's one of the things that endears Thomas to him- his infectious smile, his bright eyes, enthusiasm and intelligence in every movement.
But it's nice for a change, really.
This is no exception. They're both on the couch facing each other, exhausted after a day of rigorous training, nearly half asleep. The TV is on in front of them, but neither of them are paying attention to it. Thomas' fingers are tangled in his hair and his eyelids are drooping. Manu, on the side of the couch with the backrest, holds Thomas' waist so he doesn't fall off the couch.
He's trying his best to stay awake because the last thing he wants is Thomas to fall off and break something (he's not really concerned about the coffee tables-- more about Thomas' limbs, they're alarmingly spindly anyway) but his eyes keep closing and his grip on his boyfriend's waist keeps loosening until he wakes up with a start and holds Thomas tighter.
It's not until Thomas mumbles a muted "ouch" into his chest that he notices that's he's holding Thomas ridiculously tight.
"Sorry," he mutters, kissing Thomas' hair lightly and loosening his grip slightly. Thomas mumbles incoherently, rubbing his nose into Manu's chest and shifting slightly to get more comfortable-- which isn't easy, considering they're both over six feet tall with their feet sticking out of the end, a ridiculous tangle of muscles and long limbs.
"Thomas," Manu says lightly, suddenly afraid he's going to fall asleep again. "Let's go to bed."
"I don't wanna move," Thomas mumbles.
"I don't want you to fall off," Manu says truthfully, because he knows that Thomas won't tease him for being a sap-- not at this time, not when he's half asleep.
"You go," Thomas mutteres. "I'm staying here till Ancelotti himself drags me out of the house."
In all honesty, Manu doesn't want to move either. The feeling of Thomas' long fingers entangled in his hair, his arms around him, his face in his chest, his body pressed against his is the best feeling in the world.
"Come on," Manu tries again, against his own will. "I'll carry you."
It takes some effort (and a lot of grumbling) but he manages to get a six foot one dead weight up the stairs and into the bed. Feeling slightly more awake, he gets a drowsy Thomas changed somehow and changes into his pyjamas too, finally settling down beside his boyfriend and pulling the covers around them.
Thomas entangled his legs with Manu's and loops his arms around him, holding him tight. Manu sighs contentedly.
He's nearly fast asleep when Thomas turns his face slightly upwards and kisses him, gently but firmly.
"I love you," Thomas tells him, surprisingly coherent.
"I love you too," Manu says, smiling like a fool as Thomas buries his nose in the crook of his neck once again, his hot breath fanning Manu's skin.
And really, there's no other place he'd rather be.