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Summary
He’s still pissed they didn’t get more money, but at the very least, he has Nam-gyu to rely on. He’s a good roommate, too. Always splitting up the chores evenly and keeping things tidy. Nam-gyu is still as touchy as ever, always strolling up to him and sprawling himself across Thanos’ lap, complaining of boredom. And each time Thanos will snicker and card his hands through pitch black hair, as if he’s petting a cat and not a grown ass man. And he fucking loves it. It’s ridiculously domestic, the type of domesticity that Thanos previously thought would be impossible for someone like him to achieve.
It’s not all perfect, of course. They have their fair share of useless bickering, but they usually get over it pretty quickly. There’s really only one major con that Thanos can pinpoint.
Thanos wants Nam-gyu to fuck him. Badly.

