The afternoon sunlight streamed through the living room window, casting a warm, golden glow over the couch where Namgyu sat, a book resting in his hands. The air smelled faintly of freshly brewed tea, the soft hum of the world outside barely reaching them.

Nestled against Namgyu’s chest, Thanos let out a slow, content sigh. His head was tucked just under Namgyu’s chin, his face half-buried in the fabric of Namgyu’s sweater. The steady rise and fall of Namgyu’s breath, the soothing rhythm of his heartbeat—it was the safest, warmest place Thanos had ever known.

Namgyu flipped a page in his book, his fingers absentmindedly combing through Thanos’s thick, dark hair. The gentle touch made Thanos hum softly in approval, shifting just a little to press closer, as if he could melt entirely into Namgyu’s embrace.

“You’re comfortable,” Thanos mumbled, voice drowsy.

Namgyu smiled, the corners of his lips curving as he traced slow, lazy patterns against Thanos’s scalp. “Good. You’re warm.”

Thanos chuckled, the sound muffled against Namgyu’s chest. “That’s because you won’t stop petting me.”

Namgyu pretended to consider that. “Would you rather I stop?”

A small whine left Thanos before he could catch himself. “No.”

Namgyu laughed softly, pressing a light kiss to the top of Thanos’s head. “That’s what I thought.”

The afternoon drifted on like a slow-moving river, golden and peaceful. The book in Namgyu’s hands remained open but mostly forgotten. The warmth of their home, the quiet comfort of each other—it was enough.

Thanos sighed again, his arms looping lazily around Namgyu’s waist. “We should stay like this forever.”

Namgyu closed his eyes briefly, resting his chin atop Thanos’s head. “We will.”