#i'm an old lady and the rainy weather makes my joints achey = w=

[shih-coulda-had-it]

96 nanahiko and sakumo

96. "Your voice is so relaxing." | shimurastorino | wc: 583

a/n: WILDCARD!! The Shimuras are now werewolves (and we are talking like, Elder Scrolls Appearance), and Sorahiko isn't one, but he's not gonna lie. He's kinda into it.

//

Nana surfaces from sleep in slow waves, registering first the presence of a snoozing Sakumo sprawled next to her, then the softness of the bedding, and next the thigh pillowing her face. It is a very familiar thigh. It has gray hairs scattered across the pale skin, and it smells faintly of parfum and menthol: Sorahiko’s body wash.

Over her head, she hears a constant grumbling, the contents of which are about Nana and Sakumo.

“Werewolves. Werewolves. In fucking Japan. Can’t believe it. Well, actually, I guess I can, considering Sakumo’s entire thing, but you?” Gentle fingers comb through her hair. “Almost twenty years knowing you, and what? Now you’re some creature of folklore? Geez…”

She struggles to not smirk, fails, and turns over onto her back. Sorahiko stares down; he frowns in response to Nana’s grin. 

“You just wake up?”

“Yeah,” Nana answers. “Did you have a good night?”

“Not as bad as I thought it would be. It was sort of a shock to see you guys… grow into the werewolves instead of just transforming into a plain wolf. But apparently you’re just as cuddly. So it turned out fine.”

“No bite marks?”

“... Was that a possibility,” Sorahiko says flatly.

“Ah…”

When Sakumo first told Nana that there wasn’t any time to go on the mountain retreat, she’d worried. Being among other werewolves during a full moon was immensely helpful when it came to heightened tempers and passions. Not to mention, no one screams about monsters when the only people around are monsters.

But they couldn’t go. Sakumo had landed a last-second case, and the Sky High agency was doing its obligatory time as the ‘cavalry’--that is, Nana and Sorahiko were on-call for other agencies who couldn’t throw their weight against stronger villains.

So the alternative to spending the night running in the woods was to spend it lounging at Sorahiko’s studio.

Nana convinced Sakumo not to spill the beans immediately about their being werewolves; hell, she’s only been blooded into his line for less than a year, only a few months before the wedding. So they told Sorahiko about it being a Quirk effect. Manageable, but better when someone played chaperone.

Last night had been the first of three. She’d like to think that Sorahiko hadn’t been too traumatized about it.

“We wouldn’t eat you,” Nana says, finally, then adds, “even though you’re a treat!”

“What a comfort.” She sticks her tongue out at him. He rolls his eyes and prods her cheek with a chiding finger until Nana retracts it. “Anyways, what’s the hold-up with Sakumo? He’s usually the early bird out of the three of us, and I want breakfast.”

“Hm,” she hums. “It is weird that you’re the first one awake, Sorahiko. Did you get any sleep last night?”

“How could I? Two lazy lumps were smushing the air outta me.”

Affronted, Nana splutters, “‘Lumps’!”

“And heavy ones too,” Sorahiko says. He stretches to scruff Sakumo’s bedhead. “Hey, wake up. How can you still be asleep with all this noise between us?”

A muffled groan vibrates into Nana’s ribs, and then a brief chill elicits goosebumps as Sakumo pulls back. “Your voice is so relaxing, Sorahiko-kun,” he says sleepily. There’s the presence of Sakumo shifting his arm, moving it around Nana to pat Sorahiko’s hip. “Thank you for keeping us safe. Mind doing it two more times?”

“Two more times?” Sorahiko echoes, then catches himself. “Oh. Full moon. Yeah, I’ve got you guys. Don’t worry about it.”