Archive of Our Own ^beta

Nagi Seishiro had always been a simple creature.

He liked snacks. He liked video games. He liked soft things. He liked Reo.

Scratch that—he loved Reo.

He had loved Reo since the first time Reo shoved a ball into his hands and told him, “You’ll get it. Just try.” That might’ve been years ago now, but Nagi still remembered the way Reo had smiled—like Nagi was the only one who mattered. Back then, Nagi didn’t know how to name that feeling. He did now.

Love was simple. Warm. Constant. Like the way Reo’s voice filled a room. Like the way Reo’s scent clung to Nagi’s hoodie when he borrowed it and forgot to give it back. Like the way Reo’s laughter made Nagi feel like he could win any match, even when he didn’t care about winning.

So no, Nagi didn’t mind being called a golden retriever. He was Reo’s loyal mutt—quiet, content, big and soft and warm, always just a step behind his favorite person.

Until Reo started spending time with Shidou.

Shidou, the loud, almost obscene, striker with the flashy style and too many opinions, who had no right laughing at Reo’s jokes like that or brushing his fingers against Reo’s wrist like they were sharing some secret.

Nagi didn’t get it. Reo laughed like that with him. Reo leaned in close with him. Reo looked at him like that.

Didn’t he?

The first time he saw Reo ruffle Shidou's hair, Nagi felt something twist in his chest. It wasn’t just hunger. It wasn’t even the usual sleepy yearning that simmered low and warm in his bones. It was something sharp. Ugly. Hot.

Jealousy, he realized. So this is what that feels like.

It didn’t suit him. Nagi didn’t like feeling this way. But he also didn’t like the way Reo called Shidou “a freak” after practice, laughing when Shidou whispered something back that Nagi couldn't fully grasp from there.

Nagi didn’t pout. Not really. He just sulked behind Reo’s shoulder like a shadow, longer and more silent than usual. He didn’t say anything. Just stared. And when Reo glanced over at him, brows drawn, Nagi gave a one-word answer.

“Mine.”

Reo blinked. “Huh?”

“You’re mine.”

The words were clumsy. Heavy. Blunt like a rock tossed into still water. But Nagi didn’t care if it made a splash. His hand wrapped around Reo’s wrist, thumb brushing the pulse point like a silent plea.

“I don’t like him,” he mumbled, barely audible.

Reo was stunned into silence. For a beat, he stared at Nagi like he’d never seen him before—like he wasn’t just the puppy trailing after him but something sharper, something real.

Then Reo laughed. Not a cruel laugh. Not surprised, either. It was fond. Soft. A little shaky.

“You big idiot,” he said, stepping closer. “You’ve never said something like that before.”

Nagi shrugged. “Never needed to.”

Reo’s eyes softened, and he leaned in, standing on his toes to brush a kiss just beneath Nagi’s eye. It wasn’t the first kiss they shared, but it was the first one Nagi initiated—by dragging Reo in, arms caging him loosely, protectively, lovingly.

“You’re jealous,” Reo whispered, grin wide. “That’s kind of hot.”

Nagi groaned. “Stop teasing.”

“Never,” Reo said, looping his arms around Nagi’s waist. “But I’m yours, treasure..Always have been.”

That night, Nagi lay in bed with Reo curled against his chest, nose tucked under his chin. He pressed kisses into Reo’s hair and finally, finally let himself want—openly, hungrily, possessively.

Gentle giants don’t bite.

Unless someone tries to take what’s theirs.