#i just wanna be the big spoon and hold al-haitham is that too much to ask

[saetoru]

the first night al-haitham spends with you, he’s unsure what to do with his arms.

“just wrap this one around me here,” you giggle, maneuvering his arm to curl under you. he does so stiffly, laying on his side like a log as you press close against his body. “now lay the other one over me.”

he does—and by that, he simply plops his other arm to lay flat over your torso.

“this is a rather awkward arrangement, don’t you think?” he raises a brow.

“it’s because you’re laying like a robot. loosen your limbs,” you huff, “you might as well eat nuts and bolts for breakfast.”

he’s not good at these kinds of things. he wants to tell you that—that if you’re looking for a boyfriend to hold hands and cuddle with, he’s probably not the best candidate. or the second best. or even the twentieth. he’s probably the last person on the list that you could get intimate with.

yet here you are, curling his arm around you like there’s any hope of him getting this right.

“are you sure this is—”

“here, i have a better idea,” you interrupt. suddenly, you’re hands are shoving him away, making him blink as you roll him around to turn and face away from you.

“what are you—” your arms wrap around him, and your chin rests on his shoulder as you press a gentle kiss to his skin. it’s warm, feeling you pressed against him like this. it’s nice and comforting and it feels like home.

and sure, maybe he lays a little stiff, maybe he’s unsure what do with his arms as he awkwardly lays there on his side, but you wrap yourself around him tightly, pressing a few kisses to the side of his head as you smile against his hair. he can feel you—he can count the beats of your heart and if he tries hard enough, he can feel the way the rhythmic pounding is just as quick as his.

“there,” you murmur, satisfied with yourself. a part of him feels he should turn back around and get it right—that he should be holding you and not the other way around.

but then you pull him closer against your chest, and he can’t help but melt into you. “this will get uncomfortable for your arms rather quickly,” he points out.

“shh. just sleep,” you click your teeth.

he thinks it’ll be harder to sleep with someone here, someone breathing and moving against him and keeping him locked in place. but oddly enough, he falls asleep quicker than usual that night—and every night after too.