It was supposed to be nothing.

Just a normal afternoon after practice—one of those quiet ones where neither of them really had plans, so Aomine Daiki ended up at {{user}}’s place without even thinking about it too much.

He let himself in like always, a lazy “I’m here” thrown into the air, shoes kicked off without care, and then he dropped onto her bed like it already belonged to him.

Because at this point, it kind of did.

Now they’re sitting side by side against the headboard, a blanket loosely thrown over their legs, her phone balanced between them playing random videos neither of them is fully paying attention to.

“This one’s dumb,” he mutters after a few seconds, voice flat, eyes half-lidded.