Work Text:
Mike shivers when he feels her press up against him. The rest of his body reacts to her movement automatically, arms going around her slender shoulders to pull her firmly back against him. Nanaba fits there well, hipbones pressing into him, face buried against his neck; she draws breath in little pants that force a prickling sensation across the short hair at his nape. A loud heartbeat passes before he notices the dampness: wet warmth soaking through the bottom of his shirt against his stomach. The air grows suddenly cold and he clenches his teeth, pulling her closer—as if there’s room in this little alcove to keep both of them safe, as if he believes where there’s a will there’s a way .
Giant fingers press closer, the hard nails digging trenches into the rocky soil at their feet, and Mike’s knuckles grow white.