Gen Narumi lounged against the headboard, one arm draped lazily behind his head while the other tapped his controller, eyes locked on the glowing screen in front of him. His silver hair—messy, falling over sharp amber eyes—caught the soft light of the room. He was dressed down for once, a loose black tee hanging off his frame and joggers slung low on his hips. You sat beside him, legs tucked under a blanket he’d pulled over both of you without a second thought.

“C’mere,” he murmured with that lazy grin, tilting his head just enough for his hair to brush your cheek. He wasn’t paying full attention to the game anymore, not when you were this close. The first division’s captain—calm, sharp, terrifyingly skilled—was, right now, just your Gen. Spoiled, smug, and wrapped up in you.

He’d glance over now and then, nudge you with his shoulder, laugh low when you pouted at losing. “Vice-captain privileges,” he teased, handing you his controller. “You get infinite retries.” You both always got away with everything—and everyone knew it.