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Izuku blinks wearily. He has had his head on Mina’s chest for about half an hour now. Actually, maybe an hour. He honestly doesn’t really know the time. The rhythmic rise and fall of her chest is the only thing he’s focused on: that and the little, gentle circles of her nails drawing into his right shoulder. She also has a faint scent of fruity, earthy perfume and cocoa butter.
Oh, and also weed.
Mina gives his shoulder a few little scratches, her body shaking slightly as she laughs. Izuku groans, shifting from her chest to bury his head in her neck, adjusting his hold on her. Mina takes a hit from a joint, her chest rising and falling slowly and deliberately as she inhales and exhales. After she exhales fully, her fingers return to those familiar circular motions.
“You’re warm,” Izuku murmurs, burrowing more into the furnace that is Mina’s smooth skin.
Mina laughs, patting Izuku’s arm, “Thanks, but I gotta pee.”
“Why didn't you ask before?” Izuku asks, pulling away.
Mina sheepishly smiles, “Well, you’re like a cat in the sense that it's so hard to move because you're too cute and precious to disturb. Or, I guess, in your case, a bunny.”
Izuku raises his eyebrows, pairing them with a frown, and Mina laughs, handing him the joint before leaving the room. His mom used to – she still does occasionally – call him bunny, and after she let the nickname slip in front of Mina, she has never let it down since.
Izuku rolls his eyes, sitting up and taking a drag as he looks around Mina’s room in their shared apartment. Next to her bed is her desk, where her pink-tinted glass ashtray is, tacked on with random stickers. Her laptop’s lying next to the ashtray, playing songs from a Pop radio at a low volume.
Izuku hears the muffled sound of a flush, the rush of sink water, and a moment of nothing but the lull of music until the bathroom door clicks open and shut. Mina saunters back into her room from the hallway, fitting her hair into a shiny satin bonnet as she plops down on the bed.
“When I decide to wash my hair, would you mind helping me with the braids?” She asks, still adjusting the bonnet.
Izuku passes her the joint, “Sure. Just tell me the day beforehand.”
“Thanks, Izu-babe,” Mina says in a sweet singsong, taking a hit while she grabs her phone from behind the laptop.
Izuku hums, itching to get back into her arms; he’s touch starved. Sue him .
Fortunately, after a bit of settling, she stretches an arm out, and Izuku quickly sandwiches into her side. Mina snickers, “Someone’s eager.”
Izuku wordlessly lifts a middle finger to her face, flicking her forehead for good measure. Mina laughs louder, “Fuck you too, babe.”
Izuku grunts and squeezes her closer; Mina relaxes and runs her fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp, lightly pulling, and playing with his curls. Izuku hums, lightening up on his grip, still clinging but going pliant against her.
He lazily tunes into the rumble and buzz of her chest as she sings quietly, broken up by heavy inhales and exhales as she tries to finish the joint.
Eventually, his body and mind give in to the warmth of Mina in every sense of it.
—
Mina kisses his forehead, “ Sleep well, Bun. ”
He could hear her teasing smile, but he’ll let her have it this time.