Three hearts, one home (Dayasco)

Tummy ache

The house was quiet as night fell, the only sound the distant hum of the refrigerator and the occasional creak of the floorboards. Bosco slipped out of her clothes, leaving on just a simple vest top and underwear. The coolness of the room contrasted with the warmth of her skin as she climbed into bed beside Daya, who was already in his boxers. He was sitting up, scrolling through his phone, but he set it aside when he felt her presence beside him.

Curling up against his bare chest, she wrapped her arms around his waist, her hand pressing against the soft fabric of his boxers. His heart beat a steady rhythm beneath her ear, a comforting sound that she had come to associate with safety and love. Daya's hand came up to stroke her hair, his thumb brushing against her forehead in a gentle, soothing motion.

For a moment, they just sat there, the quiet of the house wrapping around them like a blanket. It was a silence filled with unspoken words, the kind that only two people who knew each other so well could share. Daya's hand moved from her hair to her shoulder, his thumb tracing lazy circles on her bare skin. The warmth of his touch sent shivers down her spine, and she leaned into him even more.

"You're my clingy little thing," he teased, his voice filled with affection. Bosco just giggled, her cheek pressing into his chest. "And you're so warm," she murmured, her voice muffled by his body.

Daya couldn't help but chuckle, his arms tightening around her. "I'm always here to keep you warm," he said, his voice a gentle rumble. He felt her nod against him, her breathing evening out as she relaxed into his embrace.

Bosco's hand began to trace along his collarbones, her fingertips dancing over his skin. It was a familiar gesture, one that always made him feel safe and loved. He watched as her hand moved downward, her fingers gliding through the coarse hair that covered his chest.

Her touch was light, almost feathery, sending a shiver down his spine. He took a deep breath, his heart racing as her hand continued its exploration. He could feel the warmth of her palm, the gentle pressure as she outlined the contours of his pectoral muscles, her touch a silent question.

"You're body is so pretty," she murmured, her voice a soft whisper in the darkness. Daya's breath hitched, his eyes closing for a moment as he took in her words. He had never heard anyone say that to him before, not like this. It was always 'handsome' or 'strong', but never 'pretty'.

He looked down at her, his eyes searching hers. "Do you really think so?" he asked, his voice filled with doubt.

Bosco's eyes lit up with sincerity. "Yes, I do," she whispered, her voice a caress against his skin. "You're so strong, but there's a softness to you too."

With a gentle sigh, Daya leaned back, pulling her closer as he reached over to switch off the lamp. The room was plunged into darkness, the only light coming from the sliver of moon that peeked through the curtains. He felt her relax into him, her head nestling into the crook of his neck.

"Goodnight, Day," she murmured, her voice sleepy.

Daya felt a warmth spread through him at her words, a gentle reminder of the bond they shared. "Night, baby," he whispered, his voice filled with love. He pulled her closer, her curves fitting perfectly against his body.

Her breath grew even, her grip on his waist loosening as she drifted off to sleep. He held her tightly, his heart swelling with a protective instinct that was as fierce as it was gentle. He couldn't imagine his trying to navigate life right now without her, without her light, her laughter, her unwavering support.

As the night wore on, Daya felt her shift in her sleep, her body instinctively seeking out his warmth. Her legs tangled with his, her arm moving up to drape over his chest, her cheek pressing into his neck. Her skin was like velvet, and he found himself running his fingers along her bare arm, tracing the path of her veins.