slow burn | 18+ | non-canon
Summary: He survived Shibuya, but returning to work felt harder than the battlefield itself. Every stare lingered too long. Every conversation ended too quickly. Everyone treated him like a reminder of what had happened… Except you. You spoke to him as though nothing had changed, never realizing that your normalcy became the one thing holding him together. 𓂃۶ৎ
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Thursday evening arrived faster than you expected. After work, you headed home to change into something comfortable, a pair of dark jeans, a soft cream-colored sweater tucked loosely into the waistband, and your favorite boots. It wasn’t anything extravagant, but it felt like you. Looking in the mirror one last time, you smiled nervously to yourself. Maybe this was exactly what you needed. A fresh start.
He arrived right on time, greeting you with the same warm smile you’d remembered from the bar. True to his word, he had planned everything. You climbed into his car, chatting comfortably as he drove across town. When he pulled into the parking lot, though, your smile faltered just a little. Bright neon signs flashed overhead, televisions glowed through every window, and cheers erupted from inside every few seconds. A sports bar. It wasn’t somewhere you’d ever choose for yourself, but you reminded yourself that he couldn’t have known.
The moment you stepped inside, the noise swallowed you whole. Multiple games played across enormous televisions while commentators shouted over speakers. Glasses clinked together, people hollered after every touchdown, and waitresses hurried between crowded tables carrying trays of wings and beer. You found yourself leaning closer every time he spoke just to hear him. It wasn’t uncomfortable exactly… just overwhelming.
Still, he was incredibly polite. He held doors open for you, pulled your chair out before you sat down, and made sure you ordered first. He asked if you were warm enough beneath the blasting air conditioner, offered you fries from his plate before touching his own meal, and apologized every time the crowd became loud enough to interrupt your conversation. He was trying. You could tell he genuinely wanted the evening to go well.
As dinner continued, though, you noticed something. Every story somehow circled back to him. His promotion. His apartment. The new watch he’d bought after closing a big contract. The bonuses he’d earned this year. The expensive gym he belonged to. Whenever you answered one of his questions, he’d smile politely, nod once or twice… then somehow steer the conversation back toward another accomplishment of his own. You didn’t think he meant to. It simply seemed natural to him. Not a surprise at all.
You found yourself studying him while he spoke. He really was handsome. Funny at times, even charming. There wasn’t a cruel bone in his body, and you could easily picture someone falling for him. Yet every time he laughed a little too loudly or interrupted one of your stories without realizing it, your mind wandered somewhere else entirely. You thought about quiet office mornings. About coffee. About someone who listened more than he talked.
Without meaning to, Nanami kept slipping into your thoughts. The way he’d always paused to let you finish speaking, even if your point took longer to make. How he’d remember tiny details from conversations weeks earlier. The awkward sushi lunch. His careful offer to drive you home in the rain. Even his invitation for Friday night replayed itself in your mind. “I’d like to take you out on Friday.” You blinked, realizing you’d completely missed whatever your date had just said. “Hm?” you asked, offering an apologetic smile.
He laughed. “I was just saying, if things keep going the way they are, I’ll probably be making another twenty grand by next year.” You smiled politely and congratulated him, but your response felt almost automatic. As kind as he was, there was something missing. You didn’t feel seen. You felt… included in someone else’s story rather than invited to tell your own. By the time he walked you up to your apartment later that night, you already knew there wouldn’t be a second date. Not because he’d done anything wrong. In fact, he’d done almost everything right. He was respectful, generous, and thoughtful in ways many people weren’t. But as you unlocked your front door, one realization settled quietly in your chest. You hadn’t spent the evening wondering if he liked you. You’d spent it wondering what dinner with Nanami would be like tomorrow.
Friday morning arrived, Nanami had barely slept. Standing before the bathroom mirror, tie hanging loosely around his neck, he studied his reflection longer than usual. His gaze lingered on the deep scar tissue tracing the right side of his face before settling on his clouded eye. He let out a slow breath, tightening his tie with practiced hands. She had dinner with someone kind. Someone uncomplicated. Someone who hadn’t pushed her away over and over again. A familiar feeling settled heavily in his chest. He’d felt it every morning since Shibuya. Today, it seemed impossible to ignore. By the time he left for work, he’d already convinced himself that asking you to dinner had been a mistake.
When he arrived at the office, he buried himself in reports, answering coworkers with clipped, professional responses. His attention drifted toward the entrance every few minutes despite himself. He imagined you walking in glowing from last night, maybe talking on the phone to Lena about how well everything had gone. Perhaps the man had walked you to your door.. and stayed the night. Perhaps he was already planning a second date. Nanami silently scolded himself for caring. None of it was any of his business.
A few minutes later, he heard your familiar footsteps approaching his desk. “Good-morning.” He looked up, expecting to find an awkward smile or quiet rejection waiting for him. Instead, you simply stood there with your coffee in one hand, looking a little nervous. Before he could stop himself, the question left his mouth, sharper than he’d intended. “…How did your date go?” The tone wasn’t cruel, but it lacked the warmth he’d hoped to have. It sounded more like an interrogation than curiosity.
Your smile faltered ever so slightly. “It… was okay.” You shifted your weight, unsure why he seemed irritated. Had you done something wrong? The silence stretched another second before you reached into your cardigan pocket. “Actually…” You pulled out a small yellow sticky note, folded neatly in half. “This was kind of why I came over.” You placed it gently on the edge of his desk.
Nanami unfolded it. Your phone number was written neatly across the center. In the corner, sat a tiny heart. His eye moved back to yours as if checking he’d read it correctly. You rubbed your foot into the ground, suddenly feeling much less confident than you’d been thirty seconds ago. “If you’re still wanting to take me out…” Your voice softened. “…Text me. I’d really love to go.”
He stared at the note for a long moment before closing his fingers around it. His eyes shut tight, “…Don’t do this out of pity, Y/n.” The words came out low and firm. “You don’t owe me anything.” The smile slipped from your face completely. For the first time, you understood. It wasn’t anger. It wasn’t annoyance. He genuinely believed this was charity. Your expression softened immediately.
You stepped a little closer to his desk, your voice gentle enough that only he could hear. You placed your own hand over his that gripped the sticky note. “…It’s not out of pity, Kento.” He slowly lifted his gaze to meet yours. There wasn’t hesitation in your eyes. There wasn’t guilt. Only quiet sincerity. “I’m saying yes because I want to spend time with you.” The office around you seemed to disappear as Nanami searched your face for any sign that you didn’t mean it. He couldn’t find one. For the first time in a very long while, he allowed himself to wonder if maybe… just maybe… he didn’t have to earn the right to be cared for.
Your brows knit together with quiet concern. “…Did I do something?” Nanami closed his eyes for a brief moment before letting out a slow sigh. His hand came up to cover part of his face, fingers rubbing tiredly across his forehead. “No…” His voice was quieter now. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” He lowered his hand, looking down at the yellow sticky note still resting in his palm. His thumb traced absentmindedly over the tiny heart you’d drawn in the corner. “…I’m sorry.” Another pause. “I just… expected you to say no.”
A soft laugh escaped you before you could stop it. Nanami looked up, confusion flickering across his face. “…I’m not really sure who would say no to you, Nanami.” He held your gaze for only a second before looking away again. “Anyone with eyes,” he murmured under his breath. The words were so matter-of-fact that they stole the smile from your face. There wasn’t bitterness in his voice. No self-pity. Just quiet acceptance, as though it were an undeniable fact he’d been living with for months.
He folded the sticky note carefully and slipped it into the inside pocket of his suit jacket as though it might tear if he wasn’t gentle. “…I’ll text you.” His fingers lingered against the pocket for a moment. “…Are you really sure you want to?” he asked, finally meeting your eyes again. “People might… stare.” Your heart ached. Not because of what he looked like, but because he truly believed that loving him meant accepting judgment from everyone else. You swallowed the lump rising in your throat, forcing yourself to smile instead of cry. “We’re going,” you said gently, leaving no room for argument. “Just let me know what time, okay?” He gave the smallest nod, and you turned back toward your desk before he could see the sadness in your eyes. More than anything else, you wished he could see himself the way you had all along.
Lunch couldn’t come fast enough. The second you stepped into the break room, you pulled out your phone and called Lena. She answered before the first ring had even finished. “Well?” she demanded immediately. You bit your lip, unable to stop smiling. “…He still wanted to take me out.” There was a beat of silence before an ear-piercing squeal exploded through the speaker. “I KNEW IT!” Lena practically shouted. You couldn’t help it, you laughed, covering your face as a little squeal escaped you too. “Stop!” you whispered through your laughter. “People are going to hear you.” “Good!” she replied. “I’ve been waiting for this since before Christmas!” The two of you spent the next several minutes talking over each other, laughing about the tiny heart on the sticky note and debating what you should wear. By the time you hung up, your cheeks hurt from smiling.
A few tables away, another coworker quietly finished their lunch, pretending not to listen while catching far more of the conversation than they probably should have. They smiled to themselves, tossed their empty wrapper into the trash, and wandered back into the office just as Nanami was organizing a stack of reports.
The coworker leaned casually against the edge of Nanami’s desk with a knowing grin. “So…” they began. “How exactly did you pull that off?” Nanami looked up, visibly puzzled. “I’m sorry?” The coworker chuckled. “Your little date tonight.” His brow furrowed. “…Date?” “Y/n’s in the break room talking to Lena. She’s practically giggling on the phone about it.” Nanami stared for a moment, his expression completely blank. “…She’s… giggling?” The coworker laughed. “Yeah. I’d say she’s looking forward to it.” They gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder before walking away, leaving Nanami standing motionless. For the first time since you’d handed him that sticky note, he allowed himself to believe that maybe… just maybe… you weren’t saying yes to spare his feelings. You were saying yes because you genuinely wanted to spend the evening with him.
When Nanami returned to his desk, he found it impossible to concentrate on the reports waiting for him. Every few minutes, his thoughts drifted back to what the coworker had said. She’s practically giggling about it. The sentence replayed over and over until, almost without thinking, he opened his browser instead of another spreadsheet. He spent the next twenty minutes quietly researching restaurants, comparing menus, reading reviews, and dismissing anywhere that felt too loud or too crowded. Eventually, one place stood out. Elegant without being pretentious. Quiet enough for conversation. He picked up his phone and stepped into the hallway, making a reservation for this evening at 7:15. At first they said they didn’t have an opening, then she happily said she was wrong. Relief rushed over him while he gave her his name. After hanging up, the smallest smile found its way onto his face. It lingered for only a second before he sighed to himself. Don’t get your hopes up, Kento. One dinner doesn’t mean anything yet.
A little while later, he stopped beside your cubicle. You swiveled your chair toward him, greeting him with an easy smile that immediately made him forget the speech he’d prepared. “…Reservations are at seven fifteen,” he said, clearing his throat. “Copper Grill.” Your eyebrows lifted in surprise. “…Copper Grill?” A grin spread across your face. “I’m impressed.” He looked almost embarrassed by the compliment, rubbing the back of his neck. “I thought it seemed… appropriate.” You laughed softly, the sound warm enough to make his shoulders relax. “Well,” you teased, “I guess I’ll have to dust off one of my dresses, hmm?” A quiet laugh escaped him before he could stop it. “I suppose I’ll have to wear a proper tie, then.” The two of you shared another smile, and for the first time since Shibuya, the future felt like something Nanami was cautiously beginning to look forward to.
The moment you got home, you called Lena. She answered on FaceTime before you’d even finished setting your phone against the bathroom mirror. “Absolutely not,” she declared the second she saw you. “We’re doing this properly.” What started as a quick shower somehow turned into a full everything shower. You washed your hair twice, shaved every inch of your body, spent far too long deciding how to style your hair, and redid your eyeliner twice after one came out uneven. Lena watched the entire process like it was live entertainment, giving unsolicited opinions every few minutes.
“No, not those earrings.” “A little more blush.” “That lipstick is way prettier.” By the time your makeup was finally finished, you stepped back from the mirror and slipped into the nicest dress hanging in your closet. It wasn’t extravagant or designer, just elegant enough to make you feel beautiful. Lena stared at the screen with her mouth hanging open. “…Y/n.” You laughed nervously. “What?” “Nanami is going to forget how to breathe.”
You rolled your eyes, cheeks warming as you grabbed your heels and hurried toward the front door. “You’re ridiculous.” “No, I’m serious!” Lena insisted. “Take pictures. I want updates. And if he doesn’t compliment you in the first thirty seconds, I’ll personally-” “Bye, Lena!!” You laughed, ending the call before she could finish her dramatic threat. The time on your phone made your stomach drop. You were already cutting it close. You rushed downstairs, slid into your car, and pulled onto the road just as rush-hour traffic decided to grind the entire city to a halt.
Cars crawled forward a few feet at a time. You glanced at the dashboard clock every thirty seconds, your foot tapping anxiously against the floorboard. “…You’ve got to be kidding me,” you groaned, gripping the steering wheel. You hated being late. Especially tonight. Especially with Nanami. You reached for your phone instinctively before realizing you couldn’t call him. You didn’t have his number. He’d never texted you. “…Great,” you muttered, sinking back into your seat as brake lights stretched endlessly ahead. “He’s going to think I stood him up.”
Back at his apartment, Nanami found himself taking considerably longer to get ready than he cared to admit. He stood beneath the warm spray of the shower longer than usual, hoping it would quiet the restless thoughts circling his mind. Afterward, he carefully dried and styled his hair, then studied his reflection while running shaving cream across the unscarred side of his face. The razor moved slowly, navigating only where it could. He let out another quiet sigh before rinsing it clean, brushing and flossing with meticulous precision as though following a familiar routine would somehow settle his nerves. Once dressed in a charcoal suit and neatly pressed tie, he reached for a bottle of cologne sitting untouched on the dresser. One spray. Then another. A soft, almost embarrassed chuckle escaped him. “…You’re a grown man, Kento,” he murmured to himself. “Compose yourself.”
The drive was filled with rehearsed conversations that never sounded right. At a red light, he reached for his phone, thumb hovering over the blank message screen. He had your number now. He could simply text, I’m on my way. Something ordinary. Instead, he stared at the keyboard for several seconds before locking the phone again and setting it back in the cupholder. Don’t be ridiculous. If he texted too much, he’d seem overeager. If he didn’t text at all, perhaps he’d seem composed. By the time he arrived, he’d convinced himself the latter was the safer choice. The hostess led him to a quiet table near the back of the restaurant, where he thanked her politely and sat with his hands folded in his lap, glancing toward the entrance every time the front doors opened.
Seven fifteen came and went. Then seven twenty. At seven twenty-five, he ordered a glass of whiskey, more for something to occupy his hands than because he wanted the drink. Every passing minute made the knot in his chest pull a little tighter. Maybe traffic. He tried to be reasonable. Maybe she left work late. But another voice, quieter and much crueler, continued whispering beneath those thoughts.
Or maybe she changed her mind.
He noticed the hostess glance toward the right side of his face before quickly looking away, her smile returning a beat too late. It wasn’t malicious. Just instinctive. Even so, it reminded him of every mirror he’d avoided since that day everything changed. His gaze drifted to the untouched place setting across from him. He thought about the man that took you out, handsome, confident, untouched by scars or hesitation. Compared to him, perhaps this outcome shouldn’t have surprised him at all. Nanami let out a slow breath and looked toward the server approaching his table. He offered a polite, resigned smile. When she reached him, he was already preparing himself to ask for the bill.
Just as the server reached for the check presenter, the front doors swung open. You hurried inside, slightly out of breath, one hand clutching your purse while the other smoothed your dress. Your eyes scanned the dining room until they landed on Nanami. Relief spread across your face so quickly it made you smile. You started toward him before the hostess gently stepped in front of you. “Good evening. Can I help you?” You nodded apologetically. “I’m actually meeting someone.” You glanced toward Nanami again. “He’s right over there.” The hostess followed your gaze before smiling knowingly. “Of course. Right this way.” She led you across the restaurant, your heels clicking softly against the polished floor as Nanami watched.
“I’m so sorry,” you blurted out the second you reached the table. “Traffic was awful. And… I’m honestly not the best driver.” You laughed breathlessly, setting your purse down. “Maybe it was the heels? I swear I can’t drive in heels. Then Lena called, and we started talking, and I completely lost track of the time. I just…” Your rambling came to an abrupt stop. Nanami hadn’t said a single word. He was simply looking at you. Completely still. Your lips parted slightly, unsure what to make of the silence. Before either of you could speak, the server gestured a warm smile. “Can I get you started with something to drink?” You glanced toward Nanami’s glass before answering. “Actually… I’ll have the same thing he’s having.” The server nodded. She disappeared again, leaving the two of you alone in another quiet silence.
Nanami’s eye never left yours. It wasn’t awkward anymore. It was almost as though he’d forgotten where he was. You felt yourself smiling despite the heat creeping into your cheeks. “…Is there something on my face?” you teased softly. The question finally seemed to bring him back to earth. He blinked once, then another, still unable to look away. “…No.” His voice came out barely above a whisper. A faint, almost disbelieving smile touched his lips. “…You’re just…” He exhaled quietly, shaking his head as though no combination of words felt adequate. “…You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” Your heart skipped. Before you could respond, he added, with the same quiet honesty, “…And you came.” The sentence was so unexpectedly vulnerable that it made your stomach flutter. It wasn’t relief that you were late instead of absent. It was relief that you’d chosen him at all.
“…Of course I did,” you replied softly, your smile never wavering. Something in Nanami’s expression eased, the tension he’d carried all evening quietly melting away. Now that you were finally sitting across from him, you had the chance to really look at him. Away from the fluorescent lights of the office, he looked… different. Softer. The charcoal suit fit him perfectly, and instead of combing every strand of blond hair neatly into place like he did for work, he’d left it just a little looser. A few pieces rested naturally against his forehead, making him look younger somehow. More approachable. Handsome. You’d always thought so, but tonight it struck you all over again.
To Nanami’s surprise, conversation came effortlessly. He’d spent the entire drive rehearsing topics in his head, afraid awkward silences would fill the evening. Instead, you carried the conversation with an easy warmth that made him forget he’d been nervous in the first place. You asked thoughtful questions, genuinely listened to his answers, and somehow managed to turn even the dullest office stories into something entertaining. At one point, you imitated one of your coworkers’ dramatic sighs so perfectly that a laugh escaped him before he could stop it. Later, when you jokingly accused him of secretly enjoying spreadsheets, he rolled his eyes with the smallest smile. “That is slander,” he replied dryly. “I tolerate spreadsheets. I don’t enjoy them.” Your laughter rang across the table, and he found himself laughing with you.
By the time the server returned to clear the dinner plates, neither of you had noticed how quickly the evening had passed. “Dessert?” she asked. Before Nanami could politely decline, your eyes lit up as you glanced at the menu. “Oh! They have double chocolate cake.” You looked across the table hopefully. “Please tell me you’ll try it with me.” He raised an amused brow. “…With you?” “We’ll share.” You smiled as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “One slice is way too much for one person.” He found himself smiling back. “…Very well.”
A few minutes later, the enormous slice arrived, layered with dark chocolate frosting and a drizzle of warm ganache. You looked genuinely delighted, leaning forward with a grin that was impossible not to notice. Nanami watched you more than the dessert itself, quietly amused by how excited you were over something so simple. “…You look happier than when we ordered dinner,” he observed. “Because it’s chocolate cake,” you answered matter-of-factly. “Watch this.” You picked up your spoon, scooping the very first bite before holding it out across the table toward him. Nanami blinked in surprise. “…For me?” “Well, yeah,” you laughed. “You have to try it first.” A quiet chuckle escaped him as he leaned forward and accepted the bite. Rich chocolate melted across his tongue, and he gave a small, approving nod. “…That’s remarkably good.” He said with a smirk.“See?” you beamed.
Without a second thought, you used that same spoon to scoop a bite for yourself. Neither of you seemed to notice until afterward. You both nodded in silent agreement at how good the cake was, discussing whether it deserved all the praise you’d given it. Yet Nanami’s thoughts had wandered somewhere else entirely. You hadn’t reached for a clean spoon. You hadn’t hesitated. You’d simply shared yours with him as though it were the most natural thing in the world. Months ago, he’d convinced himself people would spend the rest of his life avoiding even accidental contact with him. Now, across a candlelit table, the woman he’d quietly admired for so long had shared a spoon without the slightest pause. It was such an ordinary gesture that you probably wouldn’t remember it tomorrow. But to Nanami, it felt extraordinary. He didn’t feel like someone people had to be careful around. Sitting across from you, laughing over chocolate cake, he simply felt… normal.
After Nanami quietly paid the bill despite your halfhearted attempt to argue, the two of you stepped back into the warm evening air. The city had settled into a comfortable rhythm, shop windows glowing beneath strings of lights while people wandered from store to store with shopping bags swinging at their sides. You tucked your hands behind your back as you walked beside him, enjoying the comfortable silence that had settled between you. After a few minutes, your eyes caught something tucked between a bookstore and an ice cream shop. “…Kento.” He looked over. You pointed excitedly. “Photo booth.” He followed your finger, spotting the little black-and-white booth hidden in the corner of the shopping center. “…Absolutely not.” You turned to him with an exaggerated pout. “Please? It reminds me of high school.” You said with a teasing smile. He sighed, already knowing he’d lost. “…Y/n.” “Pleeease.” The hopeful smile you gave him made resisting nearly impossible. Another sigh escaped him as he reached into the inside pocket of his jacket for his wallet. “…You’re remarkably persuasive.” Your grin widened immediately. “Thank you.”
The booth was barely large enough for the two of you to sit comfortably. Your shoulders brushed as you squeezed onto the tiny bench together. You happily scrolled through the screen, choosing a simple gray-scale filter with no decorative border or writing. “Classic,” you declared. Nanami folded his hands neatly in his lap, looking considerably less enthusiastic than you. “…Do these photographs stay in this booth forever?” he asked dryly. You laughed. “Oh hush, I use to take these all the time with my friends. It’s fun.” The countdown appeared on the screen. 3… 2… 1… You instinctively smiled toward the camera. Nanami managed a polite, slightly awkward smile of his own, though part of him was already dreading seeing the final strip. All he could imagine was the stark contrast of his scarred face frozen in four tiny photographs. You didn’t know, but he hasn’t taken a photo since before this happened to him.
The timer immediately began again. Before he had time to prepare, you turned toward him instead of the camera. Your fingertips rose to his face, your palm resting softly against the burn scars along his right cheek as naturally as if they had always belonged beneath your hand. Nanami froze. Your touch wasn’t hesitant. It wasn’t cautious. It wasn’t filled with pity. It was warm. Familiar. Without another thought, you leaned over and pressed a soft, teasing kiss against his unscarred cheek just as the camera flashed. His visible eye widened, completely caught off guard. Not by the kiss itself… but by your hand. You had touched the very part of himself he’d spent months believing no one would ever willingly reach for again.
“Okay,” you laughed as the next countdown began, tapping your own cheek with one finger. “Now me.” Nanami stared for half a second before a quiet laugh escaped him. “…Very well.” He leaned toward you, his movements careful, almost shy, and placed a gentle kiss against your cheek. The camera flashed again. You beamed so brightly afterward that he couldn’t help smiling too. For the final photograph, you suddenly crossed your eyes and puffed out your cheeks in the most ridiculous expression imaginable. Nanami turned toward you at the exact wrong moment, an amused smile spreading across his face as he watched your antics instead of looking at the camera. The flash captured him laughing at you rather than posing.
A mechanical whir sounded beneath the booth before the strip slowly emerged. You practically snatched it up, laughing the moment you saw the results. “Kento!” You held it between both hands, unable to stop smiling. “These are adorable. Ugh I feel like a kid right now.” He looked over your shoulder. In the first picture, the two of you smiled politely. In the second, your hand rested against his scarred cheek while he stared in complete surprise. The third captured his kiss against your cheek and your delighted smile. The last showed your ridiculous face while he looked at you instead of the camera, smiling with an expression so relaxed it barely looked like him. “…They’re…” He searched for the right word. “…Better than I expected.” You carefully separated the duplicate strips and held one out to him. “One for you.” He accepted it gently, studying the little photographs for another long moment before slipping them carefully into his wallet. Somewhere between chocolate cake and four small pictures, he’d forgotten to think about how his scars looked. All he’d been looking at… was you.
By the time you reached the parking lot, the air had cooled enough that the bustle of the shopping center had faded into a comfortable evening hum. The two of you slowed beside your car, neither seeming particularly eager for the night to end. You smiled up at him before stepping forward and wrapping your arms around him in a soft hug. Nanami hesitated for only a heartbeat before returning it, careful but warm. As you pulled away, you leaned up and pressed a gentle kiss against his cheek. This time… it landed on the scarred side of his face. “Goodnight,” you said with an easy smile, completely unaware of the thoughts racing through his mind. “Get home safe. I had a lot of fun… thank you.” To you, it had simply been another cheek. To him, it was the part of himself he’d thought would scare you away.
Nanami remained still for a moment, feeling the warmth of your kiss linger against skin he’d long ago convinced himself was ruined. Slowly, he reached for your hand instead. His fingers curled around it with quiet care before he lifted it toward his lips, placing a gentle kiss across your knuckles. “I had a wonderful evening as well,” he said, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “…I’d love to do this again sometime.” Your heart fluttered as you nodded without hesitation. “I’d really like that.” The two of you exchanged one last lingering smile before climbing into your separate cars.
The drive home felt shorter than usual. You found yourself smiling at red lights for no reason at all, replaying little moments from the evening over and over again. His laugh in the photo booth. The way he’d looked genuinely surprised when you fed him the first bite of cake. The quiet confidence that had slowly replaced the awkwardness from the office. Once home, you kicked off your heels, took a shower, changed into pajamas, and paused in front of your refrigerator. The photo booth strip deserved a place where you’d see it every day. You smiled to yourself as a magnet held it neatly in place, your fingers lingering on the picture where he’d been caught laughing at you..
Across town, Nanami unlocked the door to his apartment with a contented sigh. His jacket came off first, then his tie, both draped carefully over the back of a chair. Before doing anything else, he reached into his wallet and removed the photo booth strip. He studied each picture in silence, his thumb resting lightly against the glossy paper. Then, with deliberate care, he folded the strip so only one photograph remained visible, the second one. Your hand rested against the burn scar on his cheek while your lips brushed the other side of his face. Looking at it now, he barely noticed the scar at all. His eye was drawn only to the warmth in your expression. For the first time in months, he looked at a picture of himself without immediately searching for everything that had changed.
He placed the folded photograph on the bedside table, propping it carefully against the base of the lamp where it would be the first thing he saw in the morning. Standing there for another quiet moment, a small smile settled naturally across his face. Not forced. Not polite. Just… peaceful. As he prepared for bed, he caught his reflection in the bathroom mirror. The scars were still there. They always would be. But tonight, for reasons he couldn’t quite explain, they didn’t seem to define the man looking back at him anymore. Somewhere on the other side of the city, you were probably getting ready for bed too. The thought stayed with him until he crawled into bed.
His mind wandered and thought about you walking beside him. The way your dress hugged your hips nicely. How small your waist was, the cut of your dress made him open his eyes. Staring at his ceiling he felt himself grow an erection. He now thought about the way your breasts perked just right and how your ass moved slightly as you walked. He clenched his jaw and turned his head. Looking at his night stand, he grabbed the photo of you and him and smiled. He pressed his lips together while his other hand came underneath the sheets. Feeling his own cock underneath his boxers, he pulled it out. Sighing in disbelief while sitting up a bit in bed. He spat on his hand and started to slowly pump himself. Shutting his eyes and thinking of you. His head slowly fell back and rested on his bed frame.
Letting out a soft moan he opened his eyes again and un folded the photos. Looking at only you, his hand sped up. He closed his eyes again and his mind wandered to what you might look like without your dress on. How you would look with his fingers in your mouth, how soft your breasts would feel in his hands as they bounced from his own hips rocking into you. His eyes opened wide and let out a groan as white liquid shot out and over his own stomach. “Fuck..” he said breathlessly. Slowly pumping his cock till his hand fell to his side. He caught his breath and looked back down at the photo of you. Hoping that maybe one day, he’d be able to touch you. Taste you. Please you.
Monday morning felt different somehow. You caught yourself smiling on the drive to work, the photo booth pictures still fresh in your mind. The moment you stepped into the office, your eyes instinctively searched for one person. You found him already at his desk, neatly organizing reports with the same quiet focus as always. As if sensing your gaze, Nanami looked up. The moment your eyes met, a small, almost shy smile appeared on his face before he gave you a polite nod. A few minutes later, as you settled into your cubicle, he appeared beside your desk carrying a paper coffee cup. “…Good morning,” he said, sounding strangely nervous. He set the drink down in front of you. You looked at the label before your eyes widened. “A vanilla latte?” He gave a small nod. “I asked the café what you usually order.” Warmth spread across your face as you wrapped your hands around the cup. “Thank you, Kento.” The way you said his name made something quietly flutter in his chest.
Instead of returning to his desk, he lingered. One hand rested lightly in his pocket while the other adjusted the cuff of his sleeve, as though he were trying to gather the courage to say something else. You looked up at him curiously. “…Everything okay?” He cleared his throat. “I was wondering…” Another brief pause. “…Are you busy on Thursday?” You smiled, genuinely thinking about it for a moment before shaking your head. “Just work, then home. I haven’t really been doing much after work lately.” The answer seemed to ease something in him, the corners of his mouth lifting ever so slightly.
“…Well,” he began, almost talking himself out of it before continuing, “…if Thursday is free…” He hesitated again, then gave the faintest shake of his head, changing course entirely. “…Actually…” His eye met yours. “…Are you busy tonight?” Your smile only grew, cheeks warming despite yourself. “Not at all.” For a second, Nanami looked almost surprised that the answer had come so quickly. Then he smiled too. “…Would you come over for dinner?” His voice remained calm, but you caught the hint of uncertainty beneath it. “I’ll cook.” A soft laugh escaped you. “You’re cooking?” “I can cook.” “I never said you couldn’t.” You grinned. “I’d love to.”
The relief that crossed his face was almost impossible to miss. It wasn’t dramatic. Just a quiet exhale and a smile that reached his eye before he nodded once. “…Good.” He straightened slightly, looking more like himself again. “I’ll text you the address.” You watched him walk back toward his desk, unable to hide the smile tugging at your lips. Around you, the office buzzed with its usual Monday routine, completely unaware that your simple dinner plans had somehow become the highlight of your entire week.
Not long after work, your phone buzzed. A message from Kento appeared across the screen, making you smile before you even opened it. He’d sent you his address, followed by another text a few moments later.
Italian tonight? Also… I’d like to watch a movie with you afterward, if you’d like. So you can dress down if you want.
You couldn’t help smiling at how carefully he’d worded it, almost as though he was worried a movie might somehow be asking too much. You typed back almost immediately.
Italian sounds perfect. And I’d love to watch a movie.
After a quick shower, you traded your office clothes for a pair of sweatpants, a matching oversized sweater, shamefully, underneath it you wore white lace underwear with a matching bra. Nothing crazy, but as a just in case. It felt strangely nice not worrying about dressing up this time.
His apartment complex was far nicer than you’d expected. The lobby was quiet, decorated with warm lighting and neatly maintained plants, and the elevator carried you toward the upper floors with a soft hum. Standing outside his door, you smoothed your sweater out of habit before knocking. A moment later, the door opened. “…Hi,” Nanami greeted, his smile appearing almost instantly when he saw you. You blinked for a second. Gone was the pressed suit and tie you’d become so accustomed to seeing every weekday. Instead, he wore a fitted black T-shirt with soft gray lounge pants, his blond hair left naturally tousled instead of carefully styled. He looked… younger. More relaxed. And somehow even more handsome than he had at the restaurant. Before you could stop yourself, the smell drifting from inside the apartment reached you. Rich tomato sauce, garlic, butter, fresh herbs. Your eyes lit up immediately. “…That smells amazing.”
He stepped aside, quietly inviting you in. His apartment matched him perfectly, everything had a place. The furniture was simple but elegant, shelves organized neatly without looking empty, and not a single thing appeared out of place. It somehow felt warm despite how immaculate it was. “Sorry if it’s a little…” Nanami glanced around almost self-consciously. “…Plain.” You looked at him like he’d lost his mind. “Kento.” You laughed softly. “This is probably the nicest apartment I’ve ever been in.” A faint pink dusted the tips of his ears as he quietly thanked you before leading you into the dining area.
Dinner passed with the same easy comfort that had settled between you after your first date. The pasta was incredible, far better than you’d expected from someone who’d casually claimed he could cook. You complimented him after nearly every bite until he finally rolled his eyes with an amused smile. “…You’re beginning to sound insincere.” You laughed, insisting you were completely serious before happily finishing every last bite. When the meal was over, you instinctively reached for your plate, but Nanami gently took it from your hands before you could stand. “You’re the guest.” “Kento, I can help.” “I know you can.” He smiled as he carried both plates toward the sink. “…But I’d like to take care of it.” Watching him quietly wash the dishes while humming almost inaudibly to himself, you found yourself smiling again. Somehow, this ordinary evening already felt more intimate than any fancy restaurant ever could.
Once the kitchen was spotless, Nanami disappeared down the hallway for a moment before returning with a pair of thin, reading glasses balanced neatly on his nose. You couldn’t help smiling. “…You wear glasses?” He adjusted them almost sheepishly. “Only when I’m reading… or watching something for a while.” You grinned. “They suit you.” A faint pink touched the tops of his ears as he quietly cleared his throat and gestured toward the couch. “…Shall we?” The two of you settled onto opposite ends at first, scrolling through movie options until you finally landed on one neither of you had seen before. “Perfect,” you declared. “That way neither of us can spoil it.” “An excellent criterion,” he agreed. The movie began, and for the first several minutes both of you sat with almost comical amounts of personal space between you.
It didn’t last long. You glanced sideways at him before smiling to yourself. “…Come here.” Before he could ask what you meant, you gently reached for his hand. His fingers instinctively stiffened in surprise, but you only guided his arm behind your shoulders before scooting closer until you were comfortably tucked against his side. “…There,” you sighed happily, resting against him as though it were the most natural thing in the world. Nanami’s heartbeat stumbled. He carefully let his arm settle around you, terrified that moving too quickly would somehow ruin the moment. Relief washed over him almost immediately. He’d wanted to hold you from the second you’d sat down. He simply hadn’t believed he was allowed to.
Halfway through the movie, your attention drifted away from the television. You tilted your head back to look at him instead. The soft glow from the screen caught in his glasses, making it difficult to read his expression until he looked down at you. For one suspended moment, neither of you spoke. Nanami’s gaze dropped briefly to your lips before returning to your eyes. He wanted to kiss you. More than he cared to admit. Then, almost instinctively, his tongue brushed against the faint burn scar crossing the edge of his lower lip. His expression changed. The confidence disappeared as quickly as it had come. He looked back toward the television, convincing himself that this wasn’t a moment he should take from you.
You noticed the shift immediately. “…Kento?” He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he kept his eyes on the movie, pretending to be invested in a scene neither of you had actually been watching. Your heart softened. Gently, you reached up, your fingertips resting against the side of his face before carefully turning his head back toward you. He met your eyes again, uncertainty written plainly across his features. Without saying a word, you closed the small distance between you. Your lips found his.
Nanami froze in complete surprise, his eyes widening for the briefest moment before slowly slipping shut. A quiet breath escaped him as he kissed you back, tentative at first, as though he was still trying to convince himself this wasn’t another dream. One of his hands rose carefully to the side of your face, fingertips resting gently against your cheek. You smiled into the kiss, your own hand drifting down to rest lightly against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your palm.
The kiss lingered, unhurried and soft. When you shifted to sit in his lap, he instinctively tightened his embrace around your waist before immediately hesitating, afraid he’d overstepped. You answered by settling comfortably against him, your legs on either side of him. Your forehead brushing his as you both laughed quietly at how nervous you suddenly were. Reaching up, you carefully slid his glasses from his face. “Can’t have these getting in the way,” you teased. A genuine laugh escaped him. “I suppose not.”
You set them safely on the coffee table before he leaned in once more, meeting your lips with noticeably more confidence this time. His shoulders slowly relaxed beneath your touch, and the uncertainty he’d carried for months seemed to melt away one careful moment at a time. Eventually, the room fell quiet again. You rested your forehead against his, absentmindedly running your fingers through the loose strands of blond hair near his temple. Nanami closed his eyes, simply enjoying the feeling. It amazed him how natural everything felt with you. There was no hesitation in your touch. No pity in your eyes. You held him exactly as you always had, as though nothing about him needed to be hidden or apologized for.
You kissed him again, letting out a soft moan only for him to hear. He felt his own cock twitch underneath you. His hands tightened. Then, your phone buzzed loudly from the coffee table. The two of you pulled apart at the same time, blinking before looking toward the phone. You laughed first. “…My plant alarm.” Nanami looked at the notification before chuckling under his breath. “You have an alarm to water your plants?” “I’ll forget otherwise.” You tapped the screen to silence it before noticing the time. “…Oh.” “It’s late,” Nanami said softly. You nodded, a little reluctantly. “…It is.” Neither of you moved for another few seconds. “I should probably let you get home.”
You nodded before standing, then leaned down to give him one last gentle kiss. “Thank you,” you whispered. “For tonight.” Nanami smiled in a way that reached his eyes. “No.” His fingers briefly found yours as he walked you to the door. “Thank you for coming.”
Morning sunlight filtered through the curtains of Nanami’s apartment, pulling him awake far more gently than any alarm ever could. For a few quiet moments, he simply lay there staring at the ceiling, feeling unusually… rested. There was no knot in his chest. No heaviness waiting for him the moment he opened his eyes. As he turned onto his side, something on his nightstand caught his attention. The folded photo booth strip. The corners of his mouth lifted before he even realized he was smiling.
He picked it up carefully. There you were, your hand resting against the burn scar on his cheek while your lips pressed a soft kiss to the other side of his face. The picture wasn’t perfect. The lighting was poor, and he’d been caught completely off guard. Yet somehow, it had become his favorite photograph he’d ever owned. His thumb brushed lightly across the glossy paper before he set it back exactly where it had been.
After showering, he stood in front of the bathroom mirror with a towel draped around his shoulders. For a long moment, he simply looked at himself. Months ago, his eyes would’ve gone straight to the scars. They always had. They would’ve lingered there until every flaw felt magnified beyond reason. Today… they didn’t. He noticed them, of course. They were part of him. But they weren’t the first thing he saw anymore. Instead, he caught himself remembering your hand against his cheek… your lips brushing the scar without even a flicker of hesitation. A quiet smile returned as he finished buttoning his shirt. “Good morning,” he murmured to his reflection with an amused shake of his head.
Across town, your own morning looked considerably less composed. You were still wrapped in a blanket with your hair sticking in every direction when your phone lit up with Lena’s name. You answered immediately, barely managing a sleepy “Hello?” before she practically shouted through the speaker. “Well?!” You laughed into your pillow. “Good morning to you too.” “Don’t ‘good morning’ me. I have been waiting all night. Tell me everything.” You rolled onto your back, cheeks already warming as you replayed the evening in your head.
You told her about dinner, and how he’d looked wearing glasses. Lena interrupted approximately every thirty seconds with dramatic gasps and excited squeals. Then you reached the end of the night. “…And…” You hesitated, biting your lip. “…I kissed him.” Silence. Absolute silence. You frowned at the phone. “…Lena?” Suddenly, a scream erupted through the speaker loud enough that you had to pull the phone away from your ear. “YOU WHAT?!” You burst into laughter, hiding your face beneath the blanket. “I don’t know! It just… happened!” Lena was already halfway through celebrating like she’d personally won the lottery.
“It wasn’t weird?” she asked once she’d finally calmed down enough to breathe. You smiled softly, staring toward your bedroom ceiling. “…No.” Your voice grew quieter. “It actually felt… really right.” You thought about the way he’d looked at you afterward. The surprise in his eyes. The careful tenderness in the way he’d kissed your hand goodbye again. “…I think he’s one of the kindest people I’ve ever met.” Lena smiled on the other end of the call, her teasing finally replaced with genuine warmth. “I know,” she said softly. “I’ve been waiting for you to realize that.”
By the time both of you hung up, your coffee had gone cold and nearly an hour had disappeared without either of you noticing. You climbed out of bed smiling to yourself, already wondering what the rest of the week might bring. Across the city, neither of you knew it yet, but the quiet little routines you’d shared over the past few weeks were slowly becoming something much bigger. And for the first time since Shibuya, Kento Nanami found himself looking forward to the future instead of merely enduring it.
Monday mornings returned to their familiar rhythm. The office buzzed with ringing phones, printers humming in the background, and coworkers exchanging sleepy greetings over cups of coffee. Yet something felt unmistakably different. As you stepped through the office doors, your eyes instinctively searched for one person. Across the room, Nanami was already at his desk, reviewing paperwork with his usual quiet focus. Almost as if he felt you looking, he lifted his head. Your eyes met for only a second. He offered a small, shy smile. You smiled back just as easily before continuing toward your cubicle. It was a tiny exchange, so brief that anyone else would’ve missed it entirely.
About ten minutes later, a familiar paper coffee cup appeared beside your keyboard. You looked up to find Nanami standing there, one hand tucked neatly into his pocket. “…Good morning,” he said. You looked down at the label already knowing what you’d find. Vanilla Latte. You laughed softly. “You’re going to spoil me.” He adjusted the cuff of his sleeve, almost embarrassed by the compliment. “I was already getting one.” You narrowed your eyes playfully. “…No, you weren’t.” The corner of his mouth twitched upward. “…Perhaps not.” Your fingers brushed his as you accepted the cup, and neither of you seemed in any hurry to pull away.
The next morning, he did it again. And the morning after that. Every weekday, without fail, your favorite coffee quietly appeared on your desk before you had the chance to buy one yourself. It became such a natural part of your mornings that one Thursday, when Nanami arrived a few minutes later than usual because of traffic, you actually looked around the office wondering where he was. The second he rounded the corner carrying your drink, your shoulders relaxed without even realizing they’d tensed. He noticed. He smiled to himself all the way back to his desk.
By the following week, you’d begun returning the favor in your own way. On Monday, you stopped by a little bakery before work. Instead of placing the small paper bag directly on Nanami’s desk, you quietly set it beside his keyboard while he was in a meeting. When he returned, he paused. Inside sat a fresh almond croissant with a tiny sticky note attached. Thought you deserved a treat too. – Y/n :) He looked around the office until his eye found you pretending to be very focused on your computer. The smile he tried to suppress gave him away immediately.
It became your routine. Coffee one morning. A pastry the next. Sometimes you’d leave him one of the little chocolate squares you kept hidden in your desk drawer. Other times, he’d quietly replace your empty stapler with a new one before you even noticed it was gone. If your printer jammed, somehow Nanami appeared. If he skipped lunch because he became absorbed in work, you’d place half your sandwich on the corner of his desk with a simple, “Eat.” Neither of you acknowledged how naturally you had begun taking care of one another. It simply happened.
Of course, offices were built on observation. It didn’t take long before people started noticing. One afternoon, a coworker leaned against Nanami’s cubicle while he sorted through invoices. “…Can I ask you something?” Nanami didn’t look up. “You already have.” The coworker laughed. “Fair enough. Didn’t you always complain that the café downstairs made terrible coffee?” “…I did.” “Then why do you buy one every single morning?” Nanami paused, realizing there was no believable excuse left. “…It’s not for me,” he admitted simply before returning to his paperwork. The coworker blinked, a knowing smile slowly spreading across their face.
You weren’t spared either. While refilling your water bottle in the break room, another coworker glanced toward the croissant wrapper sitting on your desk. “You’ve been eating breakfast lately?” they teased. You smiled into your cup. “Apparently.” “Apparently?” “It keeps showing up.” They laughed knowingly. “…Funny how Kento suddenly started buying coffee every day too.” Heat climbed into your cheeks, and instead of answering, you took a very long sip of water. Your silence was answer enough.
Neither of you confirmed anything. There was no official announcement, no grand declaration, no office gossip to feed. Yet somehow, the entire floor seemed lighter around the two of you. Nanami smiled more often. You laughed a little louder. The distance that had once existed between your desks had quietly disappeared, replaced by tiny acts of care that felt almost invisible unless someone was paying very close attention. And every morning, without fail, a vanilla latte still found its way to your desk before your workday truly began.
Thursday afternoon arrived with an unexpected text from Kento just as you were finishing the last report on your desk.
Dinner tonight? I’ll cook again… if you’re willing to trust me with another meal.
A smile spread across your face immediately.
As long as it isn’t sushi.
Three little dots appeared almost instantly.
I’ve become significantly more cautious since then.
You laughed quietly to yourself before replying with a simple, I’ll be there. ~ After work, you stopped by your apartment only long enough to change into comfortable clothes and taking a quick shower before driving over. He opened the door before you’d even knocked twice, greeting you with an easy smile that seemed far less hesitant than it had only a couple of weeks earlier. “…Hi.” He stepped aside to let you in. “You’re just in time.” The familiar smell of garlic and herbs drifted from the kitchen, making your stomach growl almost immediately. “Please tell me that’s lasagna.” He looked amused. “It is.” You pointed at him dramatically. “I’m keeping you.”
Dinner was just as comfortable as before. Conversation drifted from work to favorite childhood movies, then somehow to whether pineapple belonged on pizza. You insisted it absolutely did. Kento looked almost offended by the opinion. “…That’s objectively incorrect.” “Objectively?” “Yes.” “You’re making up rules.” “No. Society has already made them.” You laughed so hard you nearly dropped your fork, while he sat across from you wearing the smallest, most satisfied smile after successfully making you laugh at his own dry humor.
When the meal was finished, you stood automatically and began gathering plates before Kento could stop you. “…Y/n.” “Nope.” You carried the dishes toward the sink. “You cooked. I’m helping.” He sighed dramatically, following behind you. “…You’re a very stubborn woman.” “I’ve been told.” Warm water filled the sink as the two of you settled into an easy rhythm. You washed. He dried. The quiet clink of dishes became the only sound in the apartment for several minutes. It wasn’t until you reached the last dinner plate that Kento spoke again.
“…I’m sorry.” The words were so quiet you almost thought you’d imagined them. You stopped scrubbing. “…For what?” He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he kept his eyes fixed on the plate in his hands, carefully drying the edges with the dish towel. “…For several things.” The silence that followed felt heavier than any you’d shared before. He folded the towel once before continuing. “The first day I came back to work…” His voice remained calm, though noticeably quieter. “You stood beside my desk. You weren’t doing anything wrong.” A small breath escaped him. “I convinced myself you were staring.” He set the plate aside before picking up another. “Then… at the café.” His jaw tightened slightly. “You reached toward me.” He paused, shaking his head almost imperceptibly. “I thought…” His fingers tightened around the towel. “…I thought you were reaching for my face.”
You looked down at the soapy water between your hands. “…There was fuzz in your hair..” Kento closed his eyes. “I know.” “I figured it out later that day.” Your brows lifted. “You… knew?” “I found it in the mirror.” He let out a humorless little laugh. “…And I still chose to believe the worst.” The apartment fell quiet again. Only the running faucet filled the space between you. Finally, he looked up. His eye met yours with an honesty you’d never seen before. “I spent months believing everyone saw my scars before they saw me.” His voice almost faltered. “So every kindness felt like pity.” “Every glance felt like curiosity.” “And every time you smiled at me…” He looked away.
“…I convinced myself you were only being polite.” You slowly dried your hands on the towel hanging beside the sink before stepping closer to him. “Kento.” He looked back.
Your hands gently found his face, one resting against each cheek exactly as though there were no difference between them. “I stopped noticing your scars months ago.” He stared at you silently. “I notice that you sigh every time accounting sends another email.” A tiny smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I notice you buy me vanilla lattes every morning.” “I notice you pretend you don’t like dessert.” Another small smile. “I notice you organize your bookshelf by height even though you pretend it’s alphabetical.” His shoulders began to relax. “You know what I don’t notice anymore?” He swallowed.
“…What?” “The scars.” Your thumbs brushed gently across his cheeks. “I just see Kento.” For a long moment, he couldn’t speak. His eye shimmered ever so slightly before he leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours. “…Thank you,” he whispered. It was barely audible. But somehow…You’d never heard him sound more sincere.
For a long moment, neither of you moved. Your hands still rested gently against Kento’s face, his forehead leaning against yours as the apartment fell quiet around you. Slowly, he lifted his gaze to meet yours. This time, he didn’t hesitate. One of his hands found your waist, drawing you a little closer before his lips met yours in another gentle kiss. It was different from the first, less uncertain, more assured. You smiled against his lips, your fingers slipping into his soft blond hair as he let himself relax into the moment.
When the kiss finally broke, he looked at you with a shy smile that quickly gave way to another. “…I believe I’m beginning to enjoy kissing you,” he admitted quietly. You laughed, the sound warm enough to make him laugh too. “Only beginning?” you teased. He shook his head with an amused sigh before pulling you into another brief kiss. Without thinking, he helped you up onto the edge of the kitchen counter so the two of you were almost at the same height. His hands rested comfortably at your waist while yours remained in his hair, and neither of you could stop smiling.
The apartment felt smaller somehow, quieter. Every time one of you pulled back, the other found a reason to lean in again. You brushed a strand of hair away from his forehead before stealing another quick kiss. He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “You’re making it rather difficult to focus on anything else.” “Good,” you replied with a grin. “Because I wasn’t planning on talking much anyway.” He laughed again, a genuine laugh that made your heart swell. He leaned in and kissed you harder, your hands started to reach for his shirt to take it off. You lifted it and saw his toned abs, small burn marks that you payed no mind to. He started to lift his arms to let you take it all the way off. Eager to see him shirtless now with what you can see. You didn’t expect him to be so muscular.
Just then, your phone began vibrating loudly on the kitchen counter beside you. You let out an exaggerated groan, dropping his shirt and his hands came back down. Resting your forehead briefly against Kento’s shoulder before reaching for it. The screen lit up with Lena. “…Of course,” you muttered, answering the call. “Hello?” Lena immediately launched into a story about accidentally ordering the wrong kind of plant fertilizer, asking if she should return it or keep it. While you tried very hard to pay attention, Kento leaned in with an innocent smile and pressed a feather-light kiss on your forehead. You bit back a laugh. A moment later, another kiss landed near your cheek. You couldn’t help giggling. His kisses fluttered around and one landed on your lips. You kissed him back. Silence greeted you on the other end of the phone. “…Y/n?” Lena asked suspiciously. “…Yeah?” “…Why are you giggling?”
You glanced at Kento, who suddenly looked very interested in the kitchen cabinets despite the unmistakable smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Trying to compose yourself, you cleared your throat. “No reason.” Lena gasped dramatically. “You’re with him, aren’t you?” Your cheeks flushed as Kento quietly laughed beside you. You covered your face with one hand, already knowing there was absolutely no fooling your best friend anymore.
“…Maybe,” you admitted shyly, unable to stop smiling. The moment the word left your mouth, Lena’s excitement exploded through the speaker. “I KNEW IT!” she practically shouted. “Finally!” You laughed, trying to shush her before she got any louder. “Lena…” “No, don’t ‘Lena’ me!” she continued, entirely too pleased with herself. “Hey, Nanami!” she suddenly yelled toward the phone as though sheer volume would somehow help. “I’m so happy she finally told you about her crush on you!” Your eyes widened in horror. “LENA!” Heat rushed into your face as you immediately lowered the phone, hiding it against your sweater. “…I’m so sorry,” you mumbled, unable to bring yourself to look at Kento. “She’s impossible.”
Beside you, Nanami blinked several times, still processing what he’d just heard. Then, to your complete surprise, a soft laugh escaped him. “…May I?” he asked gently, nodding toward your phone. You looked up, completely flustered, before slowly handing it over. He accepted it carefully, his smile growing just a little as he tapped the speaker button. “Good evening, Lena.” His voice was calm, almost amused. There was a brief pause before Lena answered with absolutely no embarrassment whatsoever. “Oh, hi, Nanami!” she chirped. “Yeah, she’s liked you for… honestly, I don’t even know anymore. Long enough that I’ve lost track.” You buried your face in your hands. “Lena…” She ignored you completely. “Before she even transferred to your building, she’d come into my office talking about how the really handsome blond guy always looked so serious. Then she’d point you out every time we passed your floor.” She laughed. “I kept telling her to go say hi, but she’d chicken out every single time.”
Nanami’s expression softened with every sentence. His eyes slowly drifted toward you, still hiding your face in complete embarrassment. The smallest smile settled naturally across his lips. “…Is that so?” he asked quietly. “Oh, absolutely,” Lena replied without hesitation. “Christmas party? The compliment about your eyes? That took her an hour to work up the courage to say.” You groaned loudly from behind your hands. “I’m hanging up.” Lena laughed triumphantly. “Okay, okay, I’ll leave you two alone. Just know, Nanami…” Her voice softened for the first time. “…Take good care of her, okay?” Nanami didn’t answer immediately. His gaze never left you. “…I intend to,” he said simply. You looked up at him then, your heart fluttering as he handed your phone back with the warmest smile you’d ever seen on his face. “Use protection!!!” She yelled, you hung up quickly. He raised his eyebrows and let out a quiet laugh.
On Friday, it was just after three in the morning when your phone vibrated across your nightstand. Still half asleep, you reached for it with a tired groan, one eye barely open. The screen glowed softly in the darkness. You saw it was Nanami and you blinked a few times.
I’m sorry for texting this late.
You smiled sleepily despite the hour.
I’m sorry. I can leave you alone. I just can’t sleep.
Do you want to come over?
The typing bubble appeared almost immediately… then disappeared. It returned, vanished again, and finally another message came through.
I don’t want to bother you.
You pulled the blanket closer around your shoulders.
About twenty minutes later, a gentle knock sounded at your apartment door. You shuffled across the living room still wrapped in your blanket, too tired to think much about what you were wearing beneath it. Your hair was tousled from sleep, and you rubbed one eye while unlocking the door. Nanami stood in the hallway, hands tucked into the pockets of a dark sweatshirt, looking as though he’d been debating whether to knock again or simply leave. The moment you opened the door, his eyes flickered downward for only an instant before immediately lifting back to yours. Beneath the blanket, you still wore the little white camisole that was thinner than he’d like to realize and underwear you’d gone to bed in. Realization crossed his face almost immediately.
“…I woke you,” he said quietly. “A little.” “I shouldn’t have come.” He took a small step backward. “…I’ll leave.” You frowned and reached out, catching the sleeve of his sweatshirt before he could turn away. “No.” Your voice was still soft with sleep. “I asked you to come.” He hesitated. “You don’t have to take care of me.” “I know.” You smiled gently. “But I want to.” Something in his shoulders relaxed. Only then did he finally step inside.
The apartment was quiet except for the soft hum of the refrigerator. You padded toward the kitchen, blanket still wrapped tightly around yourself, while Nanami remained near the doorway, looking almost guilty for disturbing your night. “Chamomile?” you asked over your shoulder. He nodded. “…Please.” Soon the kettle began to whistle, filling the silence with something warm and familiar. Neither of you felt any pressure to speak. You simply moved comfortably around your small kitchen, handing him a steaming mug before opening the sliding glass door leading to your balcony.
The city looked different before sunrise. The streets below were nearly empty, the usual traffic replaced by distant headlights and the occasional rustle of wind through nearby trees. You settled into the small outdoor loveseat, tucking your feet beneath the blanket. Nanami sat beside you, cradling the warm mug between his hands. For several minutes, neither of you spoke. The quiet wasn’t uncomfortable. It never seemed to be with him anymore. Finally, he let out a slow breath.
“…I had another nightmare.” You turned your head toward him. He wasn’t looking at you. His eyes stayed fixed on the sleeping city. “I woke up…” He swallowed. “And I didn’t want to be alone.”
Without saying anything, you set your mug down on the little table beside you. Then you reached over and gently took his hand. His fingers curled around yours almost instantly, as though they’d been searching for something solid to hold onto. You rested your head lightly against his shoulder beneath the blanket, and together you watched the quiet atmosphere. Neither of you felt the need to fill the silence. Sometimes, being there was enough. And for the first time after one of his nightmares, Kento realized he wasn’t waiting for the darkness to pass by himself anymore.
The two of you remained on the balcony until the tea had long since gone lukewarm. The sky had begun to soften into pale shades of blue, and the chill in the early morning air finally made you shiver. You stood with a quiet yawn, stretching your arms above your head as the blanket slipped from your shoulders and landed beside Kento. He immediately averted his eyes, clearing his throat as he looked toward the city instead. The gesture was so respectful, so instinctive, that it made you smile. “…You’re allowed to look at me, you know,” you teased softly. He let out a quiet, embarrassed laugh. “I’d rather not risk making you uncomfortable.”
You shook your head, warmth spreading across your cheeks despite the cool air. “…Come on.” You held your hand out toward him. He looked at it for a second before placing his own in yours, allowing you to pull him to his feet. His hand remained around yours as you led him back through the sliding door, closing it quietly behind you so the apartment returned to its peaceful silence. The only light came from a small lamp in the corner of your bedroom, casting everything in a warm amber glow.
You walked him down the short hallway before stopping in the doorway to your room. It was cozy and unmistakably yours, a few books stacked on the nightstand, a collection of plants gathered near the window, and an oversized comforter that looked impossibly inviting. You sat on the edge of the bed before looking back at him. “You don’t have to stay awake just because I am,” you said gently. “Neither of us is getting much sleep standing around.”
Kento hesitated, his hand still loosely holding yours. “…Are you sure?” he asked quietly. “I don’t want to impose.” You smiled, giving his fingers a reassuring squeeze. “You’re not.” After another moment, he finally nodded and sat beside you on top of the comforter, careful to leave a respectful amount of space between the two of you. You looked at the distance, then at him, and couldn’t help laughing. “…Kento.” He glanced over, confused. “Scoot over.” A faint smile appeared as he obeyed, moving closer until your shoulders brushed.
You leaned against him with a contented sigh, resting your head lightly on his shoulder. He relaxed almost immediately, one arm settling carefully around you as though he’d finally accepted that you truly wanted him there. Neither of you spoke. Outside, birds had begun greeting the morning, and the first rays of sunlight filtered softly through the curtains. Before long, you felt his breathing slow, the tension he’d carried into your apartment finally melting away. Wrapped in the quiet comfort of each other’s company, the nightmare that had brought him there felt very far away.
You pulled on your sheets and crawled into bed, he stood up and came around to the other side of the bed. Pulling off his shirt you finally saw his body. He was very lean, though extremely muscular. He had to be strong. His abs looked like steel. He caught you staring and he smiled, “I can put it back on-“ “No” you said quickly. You sat up and watched him undo his pants as well. He let them fall and all he wore was boxers. He had a nice body, much nicer than you ever imagined it to be. You didn’t know a man that worked a 9-5 could look like this. I guess it made sense since he was a sorcerer. He crawled into bed next to you and you quickly cuddled beside him. Letting your hand trace his body.
His own hand came around you and played lightly with the hem of your camisole. You sat up a bit and he looked at you, you let your nose brush his. He did the same, your lips touched lightly before you both hesitated. You leaned in slowly, kissing him as softly as you could. The kiss broke quickly, leading to another. You slowly came to sit on top of him. Startling him in your small underwear. You felt him grow an erection quickly. He kissed you gently, giving you any moment to pull away. Your tongue brushed his lips before he let you find his own tongue. The kiss deepened, your body started to slowly rock into his. You felt him start to sit up and you let him, never breaking the kiss. Your lips started to quicken as he leaned into you more. His hands came to your shirt and he lifted it slowly. You let him take it off, your breasts inches away from his face now. His gaze never left your eyes. He kissed you again without hesitation.
The sound of the bed adjusting underneath both of you while he gently moved you to flip you both. He was on top of you now, he finally looked down at your chest. His head came down and his lips sucked your right nipple. You let out a soft moan and your hand came to the back of his head. You felt his body rock into you. His erection pushing against your underwear. You could tell he was nervous, so were you. He came back up and kissed you. His other hand softly cupping and massaging your left breast. Your hands came around the back of his neck and you pulled him into the kiss harder. Your legs wrapped around him and you pushed on him. His groin pressing harder into you. Inviting him without saying “yes”.
His hands both slowly came down to your underwear. Your legs came together and he pulled them off. Kissing your inner calf as you opened your legs back up. His kisses leaded farther down. Your inner thigh shivered as he kissed it. He layed down in between your legs and looked up at you, you nodded breathlessly and he slowly tasted you. His eyes shutting as his hands came and held onto your legs gently. Your breathing picked up quickly, needing him more than you’d care to admit. Your back arched slightly and you let out small moans as his tongue swirled slowly around your bead. The warmth of his mouth making your legs quiver slightly.
You felt the knot in your stomach grow, you looked back down at him and your face let him know to come back up. You needed him. You ached for him. He sat back up and his finger tips hesitated at his own waistband. He looked at you and searched your face. “Please.” You whispered, your eyes fluttering from your own words. He pulled his boxers down. His own cock slapping his stomach from the release. It hovered in the air as you stared at it in awe. He seemed more nervous now. He couldn’t quite meet your eyes. He slipped off his boxers and the sheets were now completely off of both of you. Pushed away from all the movement, he came back between your legs and he leaned in to kiss you again.
Your hands came to cup his face, though when your palm touched his right cheek, he moved away slightly. The kiss broke and he exhaled. Though this small response from him was soon forgotten when his cock brushed against your vulva. You both winced and looked down. His cock glistened from his own pre cum. His shaft grazing your clit. You pulled him into another kiss, he rocked his hips into you, letting himself slide between your soaked folds. One of his hands came down and he positioned himself with you. You nodded and he kissed you again. His tip entering you, your body tensed and you felt him slowly stretch you. The stretch was everything you needed right now. Feeling his tip hit your cervix without a hard thrust made you smile into the kiss. His cock was large, a perfect girth. Veiny and throbbing for you.
He moaned softly against your lips, your mouth parted and you breath in. Your breath hitching from the feeling sending chills through your body. Your hands came around his back and you held onto him. Your eyes shut tight as he let you adjust to him. This feeling was surreal. You’ve had a wanting for him for months. Almost a year, so for this to finally happen it felt almost like a dream. Though in his mind, this was almost a nightmare. His heart pounded heavy and he felt almost nauseous. Your walls consumed him tightly, he knew he wouldn’t last long. Not with how beautiful you were. Not with how you looked at him. Thoughts flooded his mind of his own reflection. He started to think about pulling away, getting up to turn off any lights. Maybe tucking his face away in your neck so you couldn’t see him.
Your hands played in his hair as his lips came to your neck. He kissed your soft skin and started to rock his hips into you. His cock sliding slowly, he made sure not to over stimulate you. Your moans filled his ears. He started to pick up the pace when you didn’t tense up. You shut your eyes and he kissed your collar bone now. You pulled him in for a kiss and he didn’t refuse it. Though you felt some restraint. The bed started to make a small creak noise as his thrusts sped up. Your hands left his back and you gripped onto the sheets. Your head turned to the side and you shut your eyes. Feeling your own chest bounce as you felt his body sit up.
He looked down at you and tried to control his breathing. His hand softly traced your neck and down your sternum. Looking down at himself pushing into your walls, the way you took him was almost like a fantasy. Your body was incredible. He never thought he’d be able to touch a woman again, let alone you. Your eyes opened and you looked up at him. The feeling of arousal soon turned back to anxiety. His hips froze for a moment and he leaned in to kiss you. Both of you moaning into each-other’s mouths. Your hands came to his face again, he told himself to just ignore them. Though the thought of his own image kept showing in his head.
Your hands soon left his face when he pulled back. The bed slowly quieting as he stopped. “I…” he started to say. You caught your breath and didn’t understand what had happened. “Whats wrong?” You said breathlessly. He looked away from you, his face turning away in shame. Only his good side being visible as he couldn’t look at you anymore. “I can’t do this..” he said softly. His length slowly left you, now hovering in the air. You sat up on your elbows, worried you did something wrong. His eye flickered to you and he looked away again. “Hey..” you said softly. One of your hands reaching up to turn his face so he’d look at you. His hand caught your wrist quickly inches away from his own burned skin. His grip was tight and it hurt, his eyes shut tightly. His lip quivered.
Your breath caught, now understanding. You pulled your wrist hard out of his touch and grabbed his face. You sat up quickly and kissed him. Falling on top of him, his back hit the bed. A tear slipped from his eye. He kissed you as you held his face, not giving him an option. You heard him cry softly, you never stopped kissing him. Your body moving to straddle him. Your lips soon moved to the side of his mouth, then you kissed his scared cheek. “Please..” he said softly. You ignored it, your hand combed through his hair softly as you kissed his scars. Your other hand came down and you slipped him inside of you. Both of you letting out a moan. His hands came to your hips and he held you, his fingertips digging into your own skin.
You sat up and looked at him. His eye searched your face as another tear fell. Your hand traced his jawline softly. Tracing over his scars like they were something you admired. His eyes fluttered as his nostrils flared for a moment. You smiled softly and leaned back down, your lips joining his. “So handsome” you said softly. Your forehead rested against his as you started to ride him gently. Your bodies pleasing each-other in a way you’ve never felt before. Your hand rested on his chest. Feeling his heartbeat slowly calm down. Both of you breathing hard and moaning softly now. In this moment, he knew you were the one.
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Taglist 𓂃۶ৎ @mrskamikazekaito @alebrasil0101 @minnnp @gooner7000 <33
For this post - @nanamiswifeyy @violentlywildnightmare @007891011-blog1 <3
Sorry this took me so long to write, I’ve been super busy lately more than I have been in a while. I hope you guys enjoyed this short story <3 Our sweet handsome Nanami ugh.
Going to continue with oneshots for a bit as I write a hunger games au jean kirstein x reader 👀 keep your eyes peeled for that, I’m excited to write it :)
