Fuuta keeps their head placed over Fran's heart, his chest soft while the rest of his body is all hard edges and bone.
Their head bobs along with his slowly evening breath, their own heaving chest pressed against his side. They wrap their left arm around his waist and hook their right under the back of his neck, ignoring the way his hip bone and shoulder blades cut into them.
They're desperate to hug him all, no matter how it hurts. Lounging in the afterglow of their love together is much more important than Fuuta's physical comfort.
Fingers drawing patterns on his hip, they let out a sigh and let themself sink into him, built up adrenaline washing out of them in waves.
And as that built up fire flows out of them, they nuzzle into Fran's neck to borrow some of his heat and, for once, they let themself fall asleep and dream of something soft and warm.
