Nishinoya, who was straddling the armrest of the sofa in their little apartment wearing one of Asahi’s old sweatshirts and nothing else.
Nishinoya, who seemed to flood with life and vigor the moment Asahi walked through the door, arms thrown haphazardly around the taller man’s neck to hang off his body as he lazily trailed warm kisses up Asahi’s neck. They were soft but held heavy intent behind them with each and every press of lips against skin.