Stein is stretched out across the entire couch when Spirit comes in the front door of their apartment, a book propped open on the cushion in front of him and his head balanced on one hand while he stares down at the page. The situation is so standard that Spirit doesn't even offer a greeting when he sees his meister's silver hair against the backdrop of the couch, just goes to his room to chuck his bag on his bed and shed his coat before he comes back out, stretching ostentatiously until the joint of his shoulder cracks and offers some satisfaction to the tension in his body.
"How was class?" Stein asks as he comes back out without looking up from his book. His tone says he doesn't care, but that's what his tone always says and Spirit learned years ago not to take it personally.
"Boring, as usual." He comes around the lean over the back of the couch, close enough that his breath ruffles through his meister's hair as he peers down at the open book. "Whatcha reading?"
"Case studies," Stein starts, but Spirit is already whining in protest at the words in front of him.
"Oh my god, is this Russian? Do you even speak Russian, Stein?"
"More to the point, I read it." Stein tips his head up to gaze calmly at Spirit over the top rim of his glasses. "Are you going to let me finish this, Albarn?"
Spirit's mouth drops open. "Albarn?"
"I take it that's a no," Stein sighs, shutting the book. He barely gets the cover down before Spirit is crawling over the back of the couch to tumble on top of the meister and knock the air out of his lungs from the impact.
"Since when do you call me Albarn?" Spirit demands, catching the edge of the book and knocking it aside so Stein hisses in concern for the item's safety. He can't go anywhere with Spirit on top of him, though, even when he twists under the weapon's weight so he's looking up at the older boy's face.
"You call me Stein," he says. His voice is very calm and level but his eyes are bright past the clear lenses of his glasses and Spirit has enough experience by now to recognize the pull of a smile on Stein's steady mouth.
"Only because you hate it when I call you Franken." Stein flinches and Spirit leans in to bump his nose against the meister's cheek, grinning at this victory over Stein's composure. "See?"
"What ought I to call you then?" Stein asks. "Just Spirit?"
"Mm, you could always call me senpai," Spirit purrs, grinning so his teeth bump the edge of Stein's mouth instead of his lips. That startles a laugh out of Stein and he turns his head in against Spirit's, exhales over the weapon's mouth while his fingers find purchase over the other boy's shirt.
"Shouldn't one respect his senpai?" Stein says in that flat monotone of his, and his mouth is so close that Spirit is coming in to kiss him before he's absorbed the implied insult in the words.
"Hey," he protests against Stein's mouth, half-pulling away. Stein follows, catches Spirit's lower lip between his teeth to stall out the weapon's movement. Spirit sucks in a startled breath and when Stein lets him go it takes him a moment to recollect himself. Even then, his voice is shaking rather than stern. "You saying you don't respect me?"
"I never said anything of the sort," Stein says. He leans in close and ghosts his mouth against Spirit's before whispering, "Senpai," against the older boy's lips. Spirit shivers, and Stein laughs as the weapon comes in to cover the younger boy's mouth with his own, and the book stays forgotten on the floor.