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Summary
“It’s just…” Minato seems bashful now, even as he lies draped over Shinjiro’s body with his legs tangled up between his. It’s late on a Saturday night, and Minato slipped into his room earlier claiming sleeplessness. He props himself up with one of his elbows to get a better look at his senior, oblivious to the cocktail of emotions stirring inside of him. “You treat Koromaru really nicely.”
Shinjiro repeats the word back slowly. "Nicely."
“You take him on walks and play with him. You even make him food from scratch. You’re always petting him—”
“That’s what the rest of the dorm does, too, Arisato.”
“I don’t care about the rest of the dorm, though,” says Minato, “I just can’t help but think it’d feel… good to be treated like that. By you.”
He could howl. He really could. Shinjiro wonders who the dog between them really is.
Minato requests something. Shinjiro finds he can't really say no.