Work Text:
Mirio is a very passionate person—what he loves, he smothers because…well, love. So it shouldn’t be a surprise when you wake up, not for the first time, feeling warmer than you were when you went to bed. Much warmer. In fact, even that is an understatement. It’s sweltering beneath the covers, and the culprit still has one arm and both legs tossed over you like you’re just another type of pillow.
“Mirio, we talked about this.” You groan, grabbing one of his wrists and doing your best to drop it anywhere away from you. “If you’re gonna go starfish on me, you’ve gotta turn down the AC first.”
You succeed in freeing yourself of one limb, but before you have time to get too excited, it’s swinging back, burrowing itself beneath your back. Mirio’s other arm follows suit, his hand finding a resting place curled around the back of your neck. You open your mouth to launch into a new set of complaints, but the words are muffled as your face is ever-so-lovingly yanked into his chest.
“Mirio—”
“Shhhhh,” he hushes as he pulls you in even tighter—something you’d thought impossible until he actually did it, “close your eyes and just let it happen.”
You don’t. Pushing up against his hold, you resist his tugging the best you can while already enveloped in his powerful arms. Cuddling was fine. Suffocation? Not so much.
Your struggling earns you a single, glorious inhale, snatched in the moment that Mirio’s grip slackens enough to let your head shoot back, just a few inches. The reminder that yes, something is fresher than the sweat-laden air you’ve been forced to filter in through Mirio’s shirt, renews your will to put up a good fight.
“Can’t…breathe!” You squeak as the hand on your neck begins pulling you down again. Mirio freezes, and you don’t even have time to be relieved before his toothy grin has dread pooling in the pit of your stomach.
“Oh. Can’t breathe?” His voice is too peppy—too inquisitive—even by “Mirio” standards. You don’t know where this is going, but you already hate it. “Guess that means—“
“Don’t—“
“Now I have to give you the kiss of life!”
And less than a second later, he’s on you. Literally on top of you; you struggle in vain as he easily shoves you onto your back, pinning (and crushing) you between the sheets and what feels like a metric ton of him—hard muscle and hot skin and oh-so eager affection. The only thing you can do is throw your hands up in a desperate attempt to protect your face from the assault of his lips.
“Morning breath! Morning breath!” You give his cheek a firm shove, but if Mirio is one thing, it’s persistent. He swings back, unfazed, and you rush to cover your nose. “Oh god, why does it smell like you ate a fish-flavored pop tart?!”
He takes advantage of your moment of distraction and plants a wet kiss across your mouth. What’s supposed to come out as a frustrated groan gets lost somewhere, deep in your throat. The best you can muster is a faint “mmmf” just before Mirio pulls back, smiling as always.
“Morning.” He hums, his fingers toying with a bit of hair behind your ear.
And you have to stare, because something about the out-of-place greeting, the simple, loving, gesture is so…so him. Sweet and adorable and just odd enough to keep you guessing. Always.
Without even realizing it, your chest begins to tremble with the beginnings of breathy laughter.
It isn’t a particularly attractive sound, more of a snort than anything else, and much too loud to be considered cute or adorable. Still, it’s nothing the blonde hasn’t heard before; too many times, regular conversations escalated into full-on fits of giggling. There didn’t even have to be a reason for it—if you weren’t laughing, then you weren’t with Mirio. It was as simple as that.
“You’re so weird. You know that?”
Mirio leans forward again, bouncing his forehead against yours once (and proving your point).
“Yup.”
The pressure of him laying heavy across your chest is enough to make you wheeze. Only for a moment, though—a brief period of re-acclimation to the weight of him. Besides, by the time his lips find yours for a second time, the wonderful feeling of your giggles seeping out the corners of your grin, finding and intermingling with his, far outweighs any concern you might have for silly things like breathing.