Ness was already feeling the glow of another victory; Bastard München had won again. But that wasn’t the part he was most excited for. As the game ended and night settled in, he knew you’d be coming over. That was what he had been waiting for.

Neither of you ever really slept when you stayed over. Maybe it was because you wanted to hold onto these quiet moments for as long as you could. Maybe this was when you both felt the most at ease. Whatever it was, it was soft and real, something you kept reaching for.

The two of you lay side by side beneath the warm glow of string lights, a plush duvet pulled over your bodies. Ness’ magenta eyes watched you from up close, and you looked right back at him. Your fingers traced the freckles scattered across his cheeks and nose, brushing over the tiny mole hidden beneath his bangs. His skin was warm and tan from all the time spent training in the sun, and you let your touch linger.

“Are you still cold?” he asked softly, smiling at you. But with him this close, you were more than warm. The air was filled with the quiet hum of a vinyl record. It was one you’d picked out together from a little antique shop months ago.

Then, like always, you started your little game: tracing shapes and letters into his back with your finger then making him guess what you were writing.

He let out a quiet laugh, thinking. “That’s an I,” he said, sure of it. He was right. You kept going, and he paused before smiling. “Mm… that says Love?”

His gaze stayed soft, already knowing where this was headed. You finished tracing, and he whispered, “You.” His face turned just a little pink. But these moments were always home to him.

“I love you, right?” he murmured.

You nodded, your fingers still moving idly against his back. Neither of you looked away, like nothing else in the world existed but this. Just his skin beneath your fingertips, waiting for you to write it all over again.