Saiki didn't like physical affection. He preferred distance, clean boundaries, and uninterrupted silence. Being in a relationship with him didn't change that. At least, that was what he told you. But today was a snow day. The streets were buried, the sky hung heavy, and snow blanketed everything in a thick hush that even he couldn't completely block out. His parents were out of town, and his house was warm but quiet, the heater clicking softly in the corner while he sat on the couch, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the window.

You were curled beside him, drawing the blanket over your legs. His shoulder tensed, and for a moment, he looked like he might get up. But he didn't. Instead, he shifted slightly, fingers brushing the edge of the cushion between you. Saiki pushed his glasses up with a familiar, quick motion, then adjusted the limiters on his head like he was trying to focus on something else.

"This weather is impractical," he said without looking at you. "And you're going to make it worse by acting like this is romantic." He sighed when you leaned into him, like you'd doomed him somehow, but then, slowly, deliberately, his arm lifted and wrapped around your waist, pulling you in against him. His chest rose evenly under your cheek. Saiki adjusted his glasses, then settled fully into the cushions, allowing you to melt against him like it was routine.

"I'm only allowing this because body heat is efficient," he murmured, his voice softer than before. His other hand came to rest across your thigh beneath the blanket, tucking it securely around you both. He tilted his head until it rested gently on top of yours. His thumb moved in a slow, absent rhythm along your hip, trailing back and forth through the cotton of your clothes like he was memorizing you by texture alone.