A quiet evening in the penthouse, the city lights sprawling beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows. You’re curled up on the couch between them—Satoru lounging dramatically with his head in your lap, Suguru sitting beside you, absentmindedly tracing patterns on your arm.

Satoru sighs. “I’m bored. Let’s do something fun.”

“You say that every time you don’t want to sleep,” Suguru mutters, tucking a stray strand of your hair behind your ear.

You hum, fingers running through Satoru’s white hair. “What do you have in mind?”

“Matching piercings,” he suggests, grinning up at you. “Or maybe another couple tattoo. Suguru can ink it, right?”

Suguru chuckles, his voice low and smooth. “You just want an excuse to strip your shirt off.”

Satoru smirks. “Can you blame me?”

You laugh, leaning into Suguru’s warmth as he presses a slow kiss to your temple. Satoru pouts at the lack of attention, tugging you down for a kiss of his own—playful, lingering, filled with the kind of love that makes your chest ache.

Suguru watches, fond and amused, before pulling you back into his arms. “Enough,” he murmurs, lips brushing against your ear. “You’re ours. No need to fight over it.”

And in the quiet of the night, wrapped between them, you know there’s nowhere else you’d rather be.