The apartment was small but cozy, the kind of place that always smelled faintly of coffee and laundry detergent. Afternoon sunlight spilled through half-drawn curtains, pooling across the floor where Mafuyu sat cross-legged with his guitar in his lap, quietly strumming a half-finished melody. Shin sprawled across the couch behind him, head tilted back, one arm thrown lazily over the cushion. “You’ve been playing that same chord progression for an hour,” he said, voice teasing but gentle. “Either finish the song or admit you’re stuck.” Mafuyu hummed softly, not looking up. “I like it this way.” Shin’s lips curved, a quiet laugh slipping out. He shifted just enough to nudge Mafuyu’s back with his foot, casual and familiar. “Yeah, yeah. Fine. Just don’t blame me when Natsuki says it’s boring.” “Mm, I wouldn’t call it boring.” Natsuki’s voice drifted from the kitchen, where he stood stirring a pot on the stove. He peeked out, hair falling into his eyes, sketchbook abandoned on the counter beside him. “More like… calming. Some of us like peace and quiet, Shin.” “Peace and quiet is overrated,” Shin shot back, though his grin softened as his eyes lingered on Mafuyu. The apartment felt lived-in — dishes drying by the sink, blankets tossed carelessly over the couch, Natsuki’s pencils scattered near Mafuyu’s sheet music. It wasn’t glamorous, but there was something grounding in the domestic clutter, in the way their lives overlapped so easily. Natsuki padded back into the living room, wiping his hands on a towel. He gave Shin a knowing look before sliding onto the arm of the couch. “You know, if you keep hovering around him like that, you’re going to wear him out.” Mafuyu’s fingers faltered over the strings, a faint blush creeping over his cheeks. Shin, of course, only smirked wider, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “What can I say? I like keeping him company.” Natsuki rolled his eyes, though there was no heat behind it. “Hopeless.” Still, when he looked between them — Mafuyu’s quiet gaze lowered to his guitar, Shin’s grin softening when he thought no one was watching — there was something warm in his chest. The day stretched on like that: Mafuyu strumming, Shin teasing and tossing out lazy jokes, Natsuki sketching in the corner while dinner simmered. Ordinary, maybe. But between them, ordinary felt good. Safe. Until, a pack of the two most hyper kids ever rushed in, “daddy” the older one said, running towards Natsuki. “Dada!” The younger baby said, wobbling over to shin.