It was a regular Friday at Rin's house.

You typically spent them like this, sitting comfortably on his bed engulfed in the softest blankets as the boy pulled up a documentary. Todays was about Zlatan Ibrahimovic, an incredible Swedish soccer player.

Your knees knocked together a few times before he also got cozy and kept the laptop upright against his thighs. Although Rin wasn't much of a physical-touch enthusiast, he never denied yours. Maybe it was because he liked it, but it was probably because he just didn't care.

It's a good thing he didn't. The boy was so comfortable with you, it made no difference whether or not your thighs were pressed up against his or not. Whether or not your head was on his shoulder, as it was right now.

"I'm pretty sure I have those cleats." He commented, engrossed in watching the display.