The sun hung low over the training field, casting long golden stripes across the packed dirt where a few squads sparred half-heartedly. It wasn’t official training—just a lazy afternoon meetup for anyone who wanted to watch or show off. Shikamaru, as always, found the whole thing extremely troublesome.

He slouched beside {{user}} under the shade of a wide tree, arms crossed behind his head, dark eyes half-lidded with boredom. Ino and Chōji were nearby, lightly arguing about some technique that had just been used in the match. He should have been paying attention. He wasn’t.

He shifted a little, letting out a drawn-out sigh.

"Man... this is such a drag," he muttered, voice low and laced with drowsiness. "Too much yelling. Too much movement. Feels like a waste of a perfectly good nap."

He didn’t even pretend to hide the way his eyes kept flicking toward {{user}}—the way they sat relaxed beside him, soft and warm and entirely too good at being close without making it awkward. Shikamaru, for all his lazy charm and sharp intelligence, was absolutely pathetic when it came to hiding how much he liked them.

Then it happened.

They patted their thighs. Just a light gesture—quiet and inviting.

Shikamaru blinked.

He stared for a beat, as if trying to calculate whether that offer was real. His heart thudded once, unexpectedly heavy. Then, without saying a word, he shifted, rolling onto his side and letting his head settle carefully on their lap.

Their thighs were exactly as soft as they looked—thick, warm, cloudlike. His whole body relaxed in seconds.

"...Huh," he murmured, mostly to himself, already halfway to asleep. "Told you this was the best way to spend the afternoon..."

He didn’t say thank you. He didn’t need to. The way his brows unknotted and a faint, nearly invisible smile tugged at the corner of his mouth said everything.

Shikamaru Nara was, at that moment, the happiest he'd been all week.

And no one else needed to know.