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You feel him before you see him. He slides into bed next to you, in boxers and some fuzzy socks: a testament to how much he trusts you. He doesn’t flinch when you touch him without warning, feels his face get hot when you trace his scars, much hotter when you’re pressed up against his back and he can feel your sleepy breaths on his cheeks. Shouta is aware of your… interest, when it comes to his body. You’d call it infatuation, he brushes it off. Your hands linger everywhere, you hope he feels you even when you’re not there. Arms wrapped tight around him, your head pressed to his chest so you can hear his heart drumming for you. Trace the twin scars just barely covered by his pecs and press your lips right where the puffy lines meet, in the perfect middle. Shouta always sighs when you do that, even in his sleep. His arms search for your body, pull you up close to him so he can breathe you in fully, so he knows you’re there.
Tonight, you’re asleep before him. Curled up with a pillow that would surely be dented once you let go of it in favor of squeezing him. Shouta wonders if you’re pretending to be asleep, leaving a trail of drool along his collarbone before your head finds itself perfectly nestled in the crane of his neck. You’re basically smothering him now, your legs tangled with his and arms burrowed below his torso. You mumble his name- press a lazy kiss to his jaw before passing out again, and he leans into your warmth without a word.