#jin writes

The way his left hand would pin her small wrists above her head, as his right would gripe her breasts tightly as his cock slammed into her at a brutal pace. Each time the head would smack against her G-spot in this position, it would send her babbling. Praises, self-degradation, and a filthy mixture of words would spill from her kissed, bruised lips.

He always loved leaving her breathless, tired, and truly wrecked.

"Mr. Five - that report is due tonight, just a friendly reminder." An intern chirped at him, his eyes flickered back to alert out of the daydream of his wife, trembling under him, moaning, stomach so round.

"Of course, considered it finito." Five spoke up, waving his hand, brushing off the intern as he readjusted his black slacks, as they were too tight now.

Five had been married to his wife for a short while now, but it was still like the honeymoon phase. She knocked him out almost literally when they first met, and went from strange attraction to friendship to romance with a whirlwind marriage.

Glancing over at the papers on his desk, readjusting again, Five attempted to pay attention to his report. It was the last thing he had to do for the work day before he could go home and do the thing he wanted to do.

His ovulating, very fertile wife was at home enjoying a relaxing day off. She was pretty much his sole focus today, ever since they agreed to have a child. He couldn't help but reminisce about the conversation they had last week.

"Oh, if you love me so much, why don't you just put a baby in me?" She was teasing, batting eyelashes, leaning over the small countertop space, her ample breasts spilling over her top, causing him to lose the argument.

"Oh, what if I do that right now. . .?" Five demanded in a deep tone of voice that just oozed confidence and control of the situation.

"Right here in the kitchen over chicken nuggets and over salted fries, romantic as fuck, mia caro." She teased, standing back up, shaking her head, soft tresses framing her face as she brought her empty plate to the sink.

"I could bend you right over that sink, you would be squealing my name in seconds." His eyes were watching her every move, the way her clothes hugged his sultry hips, and the softness of her breasts.

"Well, that is true, my love, but that has nothing to do with you putting a baby in me. That's just because my body shuts down when you touch it."

"So how about I tell you how, I'll fuck a baby into while you come up with a better time and location? How does that sound my little - cock slut?"

It didn't take more than a few seconds for Five to get up from his spot at the table to his wife, towering over her, dark hair framing his face as he leaned into her. His chest pressing against her back as she gave a little amused squeak as he felt her rub her ass against his pelvis.

"Oh? Pray, tell me while I muse." She teased as Five snaked his left hand down between her and the counter, a strong hand cupping between her legs.

Five molded his body to hers, pressing her firmly against the counter, so she could feel every inch of his toned and lithe body against her soft and ample features. The way his hips pushed into her round ass as he was grinding against her and her gasps made him growl with pleasure as Five took a hungry bite of her neck. Her hands gripped the sides of the sink as his middle and index finger started working over her pussy on top of the clothing, squeezing her thighs against his fingers.

"So you want this? A baby - a piece of you and me together in this world?" Five asked fingers, moving slowly, teasing.

"Yes. . .please." She panted softly, her tone of voice weak as she was squirming under his touch. "Do you?"

"Yes," He growled so possessively as he snapped his hips sharply into hers, dexterous fingers slipping up the shorts' legs, teasing the already wet lips.

"I want to fuck a baby into you my love, but I am a bit of a perfectionist as they say practice makes perfect. I want to make sure you're nice and full of my cum."

Five was slowly kissing and sucking on her neck, hips grinding against her ass as his left hand plied friction to her clit with the pad of his index and middle finger. Her cotton shorts and underwear were getting damp from his words and actions.

"My seed, filling you up each day until you are pregnant. Then as your belly swell with our baby everyone will know I fucked a baby right into you. That your sweet cunt milked my dick of seed."

As he bit down on her neck, leaving a deep red mark, her body shook with an orgasm as Five growled with satisfaction.

Five got a text in the morning that made him want to call out but the damn reports.

"Ovulating ;-) 🍆🍆💦💦”

That is all his wife texted, that had him focusing on her body all day, and the conversation they had last week. The way she would look pregnant, how he could dote on her, the way her body would feel against his, just the sheer act of growing a person made him groan. He wish he had been home now, buried deep in her cunt. Balls slapping against her as she screamed his name, cumming against his cock as he deposited more seed in her.

They decided to wait until for sex until her body was ovulating, his balls were so full of cum waiting to be spurted into her waiting womb.

"Fuck," Five groaned as he focused on finishing his report, his wife was one of the few things that drove him to distraction.

His phone buzzed again, a photo SMS message --- his heart leapt, was his wife teasing him more with nudes?

Almost too eager, Five tapped on the SMS icon on his phone, realizing it was from Klaus too late. The phone opened up a rather terrifying photo of what looked to be a naked mole rat covered in pustules.

"Does this look infected?????" Was the following message, and Five felt the need to burn his phone and retina.

Only if it wasn't for his beautiful wife at home.

"Please don't text me your hard dick pics." Five responded, wishing to have some desk bleach handy to wash out that image.

His beautiful wife, who was eager for him to fill her waiting at home.

"Speaking as a non-medical professional, it's fucking infected. Plus, haven't you had all of them before? So, shouldn't you just be able to identify it by itch or whatever?" Five jabbed back at his sibling for his illustrious social soirees.

"Sharing is caring bro." Klaus responded quickly as Five turned back to his report.

His wife was in bed when he got home, just a bare sheet covering her, the rich maroon sheet draped over her sleeping form.

On his way home, her text said, "So tired, must nap, but feel free to enjoy any pleasures you want. ;-)."

Waking her up to sex was always such a treat for him, like the conquest of waking her up to his dick and a screaming orgasm made his self esteem soar. Looking over her, the soft light from the partially pulled back curtain shone on her face, and she looked like a sultry goddess.

The way her hips curved so pleasingly, her soft breast peering from sheets as she rolled to her other side. Her nipples were hard as she stretched a little in her sleep, exposing more of her silky, soft skin. Five leaned against the door frame, surveying her, slowly undoing his red and gold flecked tie, having already kicked off his black wingtip derby shoes. Slowly unbuckling the clasp on his belt, the clank not even stirring his sleeping wife, with practiced ease, Five pulled the belt out of the loop of his pants in a swift and fluid motion that snapped a little as he coiled it back up. There was a faint murmur from the bed, a soft pant as she stirred finally, just a little. Five held his breath, not wanting his prey to wake.

Smirking, wetting his lips a little in anticipation Five pulled off the rest of his close, his cock already fully erect. Five moved to the bed, getting into the bed prior to pulling the sheets back, not wanting to wake her.

"Fuck a baby in me. . ." She begged sleepily, as she rubbed her ass against him, Five let out a groan biting his lower lip as his right hand reached over her hips to her front nestling fingers between her thighs.

"Yes. . .my love, I'm going to put a baby in you. Take your nap just. . .let me get started filling that precious cunt of yours with my seed." Five moaned softly, his fingers pushing though the softness of the plush flesh to her pussy.

Slowly grinding his cock against her ass, the feeling of her cheeks cupping his shaft felt so good as his fingers massaged over her clit just as slow. With his left arm supporting him up a bit, Five looked down at his sleeping wife, attentive to her just in case this came a no, he was always so aware of her needs and that any time, sometime wasn't to her needs, he was bound to fix it. Even if that meant stopping his pleasure.

Her breathing changed as he started to change the pattern he was tracing on her clit, she started to pant, short breath whines falling from her lips.

"Even in your sleep, you're so eager to be pleased by me. Panting and whining like you're in heat for me, just for me to fill your cunt with my seed." Five moaned, he picked up his pace with his fingers, slipping in his middle finger, curling it up inside.

"Just going to warm," Five started as he slid his hard cock further between her ass cheeks. "My cock up a little, this ass deserves some attention."

By now, Five was cockwarming between her ass cheeks while curling finger over her G-spot, a finger massaging over the clit favoring her most sensitive spot just as she liked it knowing she was close for a first orgasm. Her panting and whining were starting to get loud, and she was grinding against his hand, soaking his palm with her juices.

"Cum for me. Be a good girl and cum for me." Five ordered, as he snapped his hips against her, his hand doing a bit of a shaking and clenching motion as her body gave into his command even while she was asleep.

She was meant to be pleased by him; he was sure of that. That he was here to make her happy, no matter what the cost to himself. He knew she felt the same way, the way they were ride or die for each other.

"FUCK!" She let out in an ecstatic scream, keening against his body as she shook with the orgasm wracking her body. "More! Fill my needy pussy with a baby!"

"With delight." Five answered as he swiftly reached over his wife, turning her onto her back, pulling the sheet back.

Hovering over the top of her, Five's body shadowed hers, toned chest breathing heavily as he surveyed her naked prostrate form below him. Back arched, she reached up to him, cupping the side of his face, fingers tangling in the thick, lush hair pulling on his hair meeting him with a passionate kiss. With a swift move of his right knee, Five spread her legs open wider for him to have access to her dripping wet cunt as the surfaced for air.

"You look amazing." She stated looking at him, his cock dripping with pre-cum practically twitching to explode with cum.

"You are---" Five crooned, as he aligned the head of his cock, at the entrance to her sopping wet cunt. "amazing."

As he sunk his cock straight into her, legs wrapping around his waist as he bottom right out. Pinning her to the bed, her legs wrapped arounds his waist tightly Five started to thrust into her slowly, just enjoying the way her pussy would grip his cock so tightly. With strong arms pinning shoulders in spot, Five buried his face into her neck sucking and biting the tender flesh thrusting his fat cock into her. The way the walls of her pussy would flutter around his cock sent him reeling with each thrust the way, she was gripping him was as if she needed his cock inside of her always.

"Five pound into your good little slut." She begged, wrapping her arms around his back, dragging nails down, leaving red marks on his pale skin.

"Fuck. . .yes my good little slut wants me to pound into your cunt?"

"Yes-yes!" She shouted, begging, rocking her hips against his, right hand tangling up in his hair, pulling his hair, spurring Five on.

The whine that Five let out shook her to the core, where her body shook with an orgasm as he started to pick up the pace. With each thrust from his throbbing fat cock bounced them on the bed, causing a joyful squeal to come from her as the headboard started to thwack against the wall.

Pulling his cock out, the soft squelch as her juices flowed freely on the bed her whine as she clawed at his back desperate for him to be back inside. Chuckling, needing to be inside her just as much as she wanted him inside, Five pushed her legs up into a mating press. Sinking his girthy veiny cock into a deeper position, her delicate arms wrapping around his neck, the head of his cock was pressed against her cervix.

"I'm going to make you a mommy." Five groaned as he pounded into her, his cock bottoming out with each vigorous thrust.

His balls slapping against her ass as he pounded into her, "Yes, make a mommy!"

"Fuck yes." He growled, a hand grasping at her hip griping tightly gaining more purchase to fuck into her harder.

"Oh gods yes, Five! Please, please, just like that I'm - - -." She babbled, he could feel the walls of her pussy clenching around him tightly, the quiver her stomach does right before cumming, he knew all of her tells.

"Cum for me babygirl." Five begged, his voice was strained as he could hardly contain himself, balls slapping against her needy cunt that was just gripping him so tightly.

"Thank you!" She cried out throwing her head back against the pillow, nails digging into his back as her body shook with the orgasm as he held his cock right against her cervix, rotating his hips just a bit sending her reeling over the edge.

Capturing her right breast in his mouth latching on her nipple biting and sucking as he felt her pussy clench lavishly around his cock in a toe curling orgasm. Five couldn't hold any longer himself, giving into the pleasure of her pussy still spasming around his shaft, Five let out a series of whines and pants as he started to cum. His cock filled her womb up with his thick and virile cum, there was no way he wasn't getting her pregnant with this. If not, there was always next time.

The way her body shook under him, happy mewling sounds coming from her as his vision returned. He didn't want to leave his spot, but was also painfully aware that he was squashing her with his weight. Slowly, Five pulled himself out of his wife, watching as droplets of cum started to dribble out of her wet puffy lips swollen from pleasure.

"Well that is not acceptable, all that cum needs to stay inside." Five gently reprimanded, as he dipped a few fingers into the mixtures of their pleasure, her whole body shaking with over-sensitiveness.

"No, it must stay in me - to make sure I get pregnant. Five, I want to make you a father." She agreed, squeezing her legs together, squirming in the bed a little, feeling the dopamine and serotonin rushing through both of them.

"Yes, daddy must take care of the beautiful goddess of a wife." Five proclaimed as he flipped her over to her side, grabbing his nearly softening cock sliding it back into her.

"Let me keep my cock in nice and warm, plugging up the flow of our cum." Five purred as he situated his cock fully inside of her, wrapping his arms around her keeping her close.

"Perfect," She moaned, settling into a little spoon position with him. "What if we don't get pregnant?"

He couldn't be more than 9. The boy who couldn't possibly be Jason (he's dead!) stood tallest at what Tim would guess was 13. The Bruce look-alike could have been 13 too, but he was shorter. Tim himself was nearly 12, the second shortest in the group.

Of course, Tim hasn't voiced his theories to the other boys yet that they're all Robins. The Bruce look-alike was the only one in here when Tim woke up shaking on a grungy cot with vague memories, and the can't-be-Jason arrived about an hour later looking dazed. Tim had spent the entire time convincing himself out of thinking it's actually Jason (because he knew everything about Jason, of course he knew Jason, but he's dead, at an age just barely older than this undeniable visage), but now it's a little harder.

Tim hasn't asked for any of their names, but neither have they. It could be protocol, none of them knew if they were kidnapped as Robin or as civilians, it's not a good idea to give either right now when there's a camera at the corner of their cell. They can't even guess off the clothes they're wearing, they've been stuffed into cottony one-size-fits-all sleeping gowns. One-size-fits-all is a loose definition, the strings around Dick's waist wrap three times before tying into a sloppy double knot.

Dick Grayson (that's totally him, as a kid), regards the group with narrowed blue eyes. He's a little scuffed up. The most scuffed up out of all of them. He probably fought the kidnappers the second they took off the restraints. After a thoughtful, pregnant pondering, Dick squares his little shoulders and probably deems himself as the main protector of the group. Of course he does, he's Dick. As far as he knows, he's the only Robin and the most qualified to do the group protecting. (He's so... Small. Has he always been small?)

"Hi," Dick smiles, showing his teeth. "I'm Johnny. Anyone know what's going on?"

Johnny looks at each boy, and the Bruce look-alike tuts his tongue and rolls his eyes.

"Hi, Johnny," Jason smiles back, hesitantly. "I'm... Jay. I dunno what's going on, I just woke up here. You okay?"

Great, it seems Jay has deemed himself Johnny's specific protector. It's hard not to look at such a small child and not feel protective over them, but Dick Grayson is so much larger than life, he's Dick.

"We have obviously been experimented on," Bruce-alike says, haughty and accented. It's a very... blunt way to say something potentiallyscary for smaller children, but Dick only tilts his head and Tim's Robin and Jason is the biggest and strongest...

Oh boy, none of them are going to be normal about this, are they?

"What's your name?" Jason asks the Bruce-alike, giving a soft smile.

The mystery boy narrows his eyes at Jason. "... Richard."

There's no way that's his actual name. For Dick's credit, the boy only looks skeptical for a second before smoothing his expression over.

"I'm Kyle," Tim speaks up, a little disappointed that he's the only Robin who's thought to not use a name somehow actually connected to him.

Dick opens his mouth to say something more, but the door suddenly unlocks and he steps away, putting his small body between him and the opening doorway where way too many big thugs await.

The guy in front is obviously the big boss, the leader of this operation. Tim doesn't recognize him from his short stint at the cot, or the drag back to the cell, but the way he holds himself and sneers down at each of his captives says enough.

Richard (there's no way he's a Richard) tenses, dangerously, like some sort of predator, and meets the smug look head on.

"Well, now that we have all our birds in a row, we can finally get this started."

Birds.

Dick tenses, probably just an instinctual thing, he has no reason to think the word applies to potentially everyone here. Jason looks a little startled at the word, though Tim hasn't gotten the impression that he knows the identity issues going on any better than Dick does. Richard (hah) growls slightly, nose wrinkling at the bridge. Tim doesn't think Richard knows anything either, Tim doesn't think Richard has really bothered to study his fellow captives.

And Tim? Tim meets the gaze of the leader.

"What did you do to us?" Tim asks, deciding it would do no one good to keep quiet. The others don't know just how strange their situation is, Tim can't let anyone else lead the conversation. He needs to figure out for them if they're here as civilians, or Robins.

The leader smirks, looking almost gleeful as he keeps Tim's gaze. "Oh, you were always said to be the smart one. What do you think we did to you?"

"We're not the ages we're supposed to be," Tim says cooly, ignoring how all three of the other boys startle to look at him. Tim tries not to swell with pride. "Magic? Or a drug?"

The boss grins. "A little of A and B. A good investment, if I do say so myself. Capturing you four wasn't easy, but you being this small and helpless will make proceedings much easier."

He looks away from Tim, and nods at his company of goons. Dick lashes out first, the moment one of them steps into their small dark room, but he doesn't throw like Robin, they still don't know if they can. He's easily grabbed and dragged away, and Jason is soon to follow with a hand wrapping around his bicep. One goes for Tim, and Tim lets his hands be yanked behind his back.

Jason looks like he's about to show some of the moves he can justify as growing up on the streets with, but it's Richard who reacts violently first.

"Unhand me, filth!"

He lashes out with deadly prediction, striking the goon reaching out for him straight in the throat. The goon gags, stumbling back right as Richard kicks out to knock his feet out from under him.

The grasp on Tim tightens as more goons rush in to subdue the mystery Robin who clearly doesn't have the same goals of keeping it low-key.

He takes down another goon, who shouts "this one's more violent, boss!" as he falls, and is about to break the wrist of a third when Dick shouts, suddenly in the grasp of the leader with his hands bound behind his back, arms twisting at an angle that not even acrobats should have them twisted. Richard pauses in his attack, but keeps an offensive posture in case anyone tries to get close to him. His eyes flicker to Dick, then up to the boss with unwavering steel in his gaze.

Is he really Robin? Tim would think he's a shrunken Bruce, but his skin is too dark, his eyes too green.

"Stand down or I'll break this one's wings," the boss threats.

"I'll snap your neck," Richard snarls back.

"You don't want to aggravate me. You may not recognize him, but surely you don't want Nightwing paying for your violence?"

That gets everyone freezing, though Dick more in confusion, his shoulders tensing in the strain.

Jason's mouth falls open, his wrists bound too, as he gives a wide eyed oh in Dick's direction. Richard practically turns into stone, stunned just enough for two goons to manhandle him into submission. Tim stares at Dick until his eyes meet Tim's in a frantic attempt to get answers.

Tim provides.

"Robin," Tim breathes his conclusion. "We're all Robin."

"Nightwing...?" Jason asks, stunned, while Richard is restrained and the four of them are held still. Dick just stares at Tim in complete shock, eyes bright with a sort of fire that Tim can't name.

"Now that we have that settled," The boss cuts in, "let's get this started."

-oOo-

The kidnappers don't do much, just rough them up a little and take pictures, intending to taunt Batman. With a few extra bruises, the four of them are stuffed back in the small cell, each looking at each other with just a little bit more between them.

"So..." Jason asks, the first to speak up with a split lip. "You're both also Robin...?"

He means Tim and "Richard"... or more-so Red Robin and Robin. The kidnappers referred to them as whatever code names their adult bodies used. Jason was Red Hood, which... he doesn't know what to make of that. It's a heavy mantle with a lot of concerning history. He obviously now recognizes Dick enough to not need to confirm his identity, but it was natural to wonder why there's two more after him using the name.

"I'm the only worthy Robin," Richard snaps. "The rest of you are embarrassments to my father's mission."

Richard really didn't share the same resolve to keep certain things more guarded and unsaid when it came to the camera blinking in the room. Bruce is Richard's biological father... of course he is. They look so alike. Tim wonders when Bruce has Richard, and who his mother is. How much further down the line does Tim have to start sharing the manor with a baby...?

"No, I'm Robin," a shockingly icy tone snarls out of Dick's throat. He looks livid... and scared. "I don't know what's going on, but there's no way Robin will ever be anyone but me. Who the hell are you freaks? What joke is this?"

Such a stark difference from the softer, more protective persona he had previously put on. It's almost startling. It's almost like Dick suddenly hates them for calling themselves with his name.

"You're Nightwing," Jason replies softly, frowning, going into a kinder and more shy version of himself. He clearly holds Dick in high regard, but Jason was always the best out of the three of them when it came to comforting kids. Tim doesn't think Bruce-spawn would be good at this either. "You grew up."

Something flashes in Richard's eyes, and suddenly he's shooting his hand forward and yanking Jason to the other side of the room. "Do not speak to him, villain. If you're truly Red Hood, then you have no right to stand with us. Even less right than Red Robin over there, and believe me it is a very low bar."

"I don't know what you mean," Jason argues, finally beginning to look frustrated. Richard snarls at him, grabbing Dick's arm, but Dick flinches so hard out of the way and sends a livid look at the both of them.

Tim bites his lip. He really doesn't want to drag any attention to himself, especially because after Richard had clued out Tim's adult identity, he keeps shooting glances at him like he's scum. He's trying to hide it, but Dick is the only one he respects here.

But someone has to keep cool.

"Clearly," Tim speaks up, trying not to let his voice squeak, "we all have baggage with each other. Now's not the time to argue with ourselves, we have to find a way to help Batman get us out and back to our right ages."

Richard frowns and glances at Dick, then bites his lip.

It's the first time he's looked hesitant.

"We may have to escape on our own," Richard says softly, lowering his voice and turning from the camera. "Batman... Will not come for us."

Tim blinks, shocked, and Jason squawks. "What?"

Richard looks hesitant, then sighs and glares at the corner of the cell. "He's dead, you idiots. We're on our own."

Tim feels his breath get knocked out of him.

"But-" Jason starts. Dick just goes still.

"The kidnappers are mistaken, it is by design. Nightwing is Batman, and I'm his Robin. We've made the transition to fill in for father without letting the public know Batman is... gone."

"But if Nightwing is Batman, why do they think he's Nightwing?" Tim asks, wheezing.

"Because we're still transitioning," Richard snaps. "R- Nightwing patrols Blüdhaven every so often to keep the illusion that Batman and Nightwing are still separate people. They must have caught him then."

Dead. Bruce is dead.

"What do we do...?" Jason whispers, fidgeting and giving sympathetic looks at Dick who's still frozen.

"We let them think Batman might come," Richard says, still quietly, "and wait for a chance to escape. As much as I loathe to team up with you imbeciles... we're all we got."

Dick looks at the ground, swallowing visibly.

"Okay," Jason says, sounding shaken.

Tim clenches a fist.

This... is so bad.

"Look," Tim speaks up, surprising himself. "Obviously, we have some baggage between each other. Nightwing doesn't know who any of us are, Red Hood has a reputation he doesn't know about, I don't even know why he's Red Hood and why that's good or bad, and you don't like any of us which makes all of us not like you... but if you're right, we have to put all that behind us and get along. We can't let time travel bull-shit get us killed. Put whatever we know or think about each other aside, and let's hash it out later, okay?"

"I agree," Jason says, immediately, and gives Tim a thankful smile. Tim feels himself blush, before turning away. 

Jason was always his favorite Robin, he can't believe he's actually talking to him. 

He looks at Richard, trying to give his best hard look, but Richard rolls his eyes. However, he thankfully doesn't argue. Perhaps because oddly enough, he's the one who initiated the team-up. "Truce. For now."

"Nightwing?" Tim asks, and Dick startles.

"Y-yeah. Whatever."

Tim resists sighing. This is not going to be easy, is it?

But Richard (can he please choose a different name?) is right, if Batman isn't coming (he can't be dead, he can't), then the four of them are all they got.

Knives does not like being touched. Or more precisely, he never lets anyone touch him. You, on the other hand, touching is how you prove someone you care about them, reassuring them with your presence and gentle touches.

The first time where, out of habit, you reached out toward Knives to place your hand against his back, you did not have to time to come closer enough that he stopped you. “Don’t.” A simple word which sounded like a warning.

As frustrating as it was, not matter how much you wanted to pat his back, no matter how much you wanted to give him a hug, no matter how much you just wanted to even bump your shoulder against his, you did not. You were patient and accepted his boundaries.

Well, until one day, where you found Knives fuming, alone in a room. It was not the first time you ran across him, isolating himself as he mumbled things about his brother, humans, “that woman”... And with intimidating aura around him, nobody dared to come near, scared to lose a limb or worse.

But this very day, you decided to move. You called out his name in a gentle voice. And before he had the time to reject you, you extended your hand and tenderly patted his head, promising that everything would be okay.

And at this very moment, time stopped from Knives. His eyes were focused on you and only you. He felt the tension leave his body. He never realized how much he needed the comforting pat (not that he would ever admit it anyway).

From this moment on, Knives has never rejected your touch ever again. He accepts every touch you offer, and inconsciously leans into it.

Placing your hand against his back when you leaned over to grab something? Yes. Casual bumps on his shoulder? He accepts them. You playing with his hands and fingers when you’re talking with him? Please, do. Giving him goodnight cheek kisses when you head to bed? He melts on the spot. A goodbye hug each time you have to go working? He does not want you to stop.

Knives got used to your physical affection faster that he thought he would, quickly becoming addicted to it. He even complained that one time you were sicked and you were the one refusing to touch him to not give him your germs. “I can’t get sick. Come.”

With time, Knives would start to initiate the touches himself. Except that his ones were more daring, as I can picture him liking skin-to-skin contact (in a not sexual way).

Sometimes, when you go to bed, Knives follows you to lay down and has some rest, even if he does not need it as much as you. He slips his hand under the top of your pajamas to place it against your belly, gently stroking the skin there.

When he feels more comfortable with the idea, his hand moves up to rest on your chest, just above your heart. He just likes to feel your heart beating under his hand. And with your permission, he would lay his head against your chest to listen to your beating heart (with or without your top on, but this man has his preference for without because, once again, skin-to-skin contact). And if you were to gently play with his hair, caressing his scalp with your fingers at the same time, he would just melt in your hands.

(Also, if someone dares to come and bother you two during these kind of moments, Knives would destroy them on the spot, no question asked).

Hirano wasn't into guys. Hell, he hadn't really been into anyone, at least not that he could remember.

At the time of Kagiura's confession, he recalls his roommate's usually rich eyes somehow sinking into an even darker shade of green. Even though Hirano couldn't share the former's feelings, he found his heart turning in on itself. He cares about Kagiura. He really does.

But...

When he thinks about those eyes, so full of untold sorrow and the wish for a distant future, disillusioned by a happily ever after that the universe can’t grant, he can’t bring himself to say no outright. Was it a little mean to indulge in Kagiura’s fantasies? Maybe. Still, he gives Kagiura the sliver of hope the latter holds onto.

As Hirano ponders whether he made the right decision or not, a puff of air on his back reminds him that he had, in fact, agreed to the whims of an overgrown child. Waking his roommate should have always been the same, a constant integration into his day once they began rooming together.

With a groan, he tries and fails to dislodge the arm wrapped around his shoulders. He attempts to remember how he ended up in such a predicament, resisting the urge to smack himself in the face because agreeing to a sleepover with the, “Can sleep through Hirano knocking his entire stack of textbooks off his desk,” person that is Kagiura was definitely not a great idea.

When Hirano had agreed to minimal physical contact with Kagiura, Hirano suspects this particular instance had definitely surpassed ten seconds.

“Kagi,” he hisses while prying at Kagiura’s fingers, “Let me go.”

Kagiura only smacks his lips and pulls Hirano closer.

Hirano fails to stifle a screech in response to the slender digits curling into his sides. Okay. Now, maybe he’s thankful his roommate is a heavy sleeper. But, oh, curse the first year for being athletic and all, because he is good and stuck.

Kicking his legs uselessly in the air, he just hopes the latter doesn’t start—no. No. No. No!

To Hirano’s credit, he doesn’t start giggling… At least right away. His hands can’t decide if they want to, more or less, tug at Kagiura’s tight grip on his torso or cover his mouth.

Curse Kagiura for being stronger than him. Curse all the days Hirano had declined to play basketball with the former. Hirano would have liked to curse the universe more, but he has other important things to deal with.

How? How did his roommate know all the right spots to draw the best reactions out of him?

Those horrible, horrible spots behind his ribs that have him cackling and hiccupping over his laughter. The sides of his stomach that make him snort. And his oh-so-sensitive sides, a spot the blasted Hanzawa likes to exploit when the two study together just to Hirano jump.

Normally, he’d try harder to escape, but he doesn’t want to hurt Kagiura in the process.

“K-kagi,” he snickers as his roommate’s fingertips drill deeper into the spaces between his ribs. He squeezes his eyes shut at the whimsical feeling in his body.

His family, especially his father, are people of few words. Everything is communicated in a concise manner at home which he tends to adopt in his everyday life too. Perhaps this is where he should attribute his inability to understand his emotions.

The way he feels right now is something he can’t express, but it makes the laughter all the more welcome.

Another puff of air to the back of his neck. With a yelp, Hirano looks over his shoulder to see Kagiura peering down at him. Why did the latter have to be so much taller than him?

He turns away from Kagiura's warm, yet piercing gaze.

Kagiura, by some superpower that Hirano isn’t aware of, flips him around and says, “Hirano. Goood morning.”

The dopey smile on the former’s face and the melodic nature of his words make Hirano’s head buzz. “T-too bright,” he mutters. This. It’s moments like this that cause him to want to take care of the younger.

“Did you sleep okay?”

Hirano purses his lips. Sleeping was fine, but waking up?

Kagiura’s smile somehow becomes even more dazzling. “I dreamt that I was hugging a giant panda last night. It was sooo squishy and warm.”

“Well…Now that you’re awake let’s get some breakfast,” Hirano replies, avoiding eye contact with Kagiura once more while removing the latter’s arms from around his body.

“Wait,” Kagiura whines, tugging on Hirano’s sleeve, “Stay. Please? Just for a few more minutes?”

Hirano knows he will regret turning around but does so anyway. And, of course, his roommate is pouting. And, of course, Kagiura is looking up at him with those round eyes that hold all the innocence in the world in them—

“Really!?”

Grumbling in response he says, “Just for a few minutes remember. And remember, keep those hands above the chest.”

He can see Kagiura’s metaphorical tail wagging in midair at Hirano’s words.

“Okay!”