As much as Isagi would love to train and practice himself sick, even he can admit that nothing feels better than a fresh and clean bed. Sheets washed and dried, pillowcases smelling of lilac detergent, sweet partner tucked away and giving him room on his assigned side of the bed. This is what dreams were made of.

He relaxes into the welcoming mattress and allows it to swallow him whole, his toned yet sore muscles thanking the heavens above. Soccer season was at full swing and as a result, he’s been needy.

There’s always that itch in his brain begging him to touch you when you’re within reach. It’s no wonder why his hand strays until it meets the skin of your shoulder, gentle in the way it kneads and massages against your muscle.

“Don’t fall asleep without giving me my goodnight kiss.”