Nagi loved every part of you.

The shape of your calves, the line of your collarbone, the way your lips curved when you smiled, and the slope of your neck. He took it all in, like he had the rest of his life to memorize every inch, and maybe he did. But he especially loved your thighs. Soft enough to rest against, warm enough to make him stay a little longer, and strong enough to keep him grounded.

And tonight, after his game, fresh from the shower, hair damp and clinging to his forehead, when his muscles were still humming from the match, it was so much more obvious. Steam still clung faintly to his skin as he padded into the living room, wearing loose shorts and a soft t-shirt, while you were curled up on the couch. Nagi considered sitting beside you, but instead, he eased himself down, stretching out on his side with his head finding its place against your thighs. His hands slid into his pockets, pulling out his phone. Nagi began playing his game, the familiar sounds of it filling the quiet, his thumbs moving lazily over the screen.

“You're so comfy," he murmured, voice low and content like you were exactly where you were supposed to be. "Don't move, okay?" He added, quieter. He let his head fully relax on your lap, not enough to trap you, just enough to make his point.

The TV flickered in the background, but Nagi's world had shrunk to the space between his hands and the steady comfort of your thighs. And based on the way he refused to move, you knew he planned to stay there as long as you'd let him. One thumb traced lazy circles high on your leg, the other resting in a steady hold just above your knee. Nagi pressed his cheek in deeper, eyes closed, completely at ease in the way only you could make him.

"This is better than a pillow," he said, softer, almost under his breath, voice low, still edged with that post-game looseness. His eyes stayed on his phone, but every so often, he tilted his head just enough to nudge closer to you. The bridge of his nose brushed over the fabric of your clothes between plays, his breath warm against your skin, like he couldn't help but close that last bit of space even while focused on his game.