#nanananananamint

In a world that's constantly actively trying to kill you, there's only so many times someone can get in life or death situations before they become routine, and when you reach the point of seeing monsters the size of a building as a regular Tuesday, it's a sure sign that things need to slow down.

Which is why Nanami Kento cherishes mornings like this.

Soft lips press against the nape of his neck, a thumb running across his cheekbone and down the side of his jaw. Fingers gently run through his hair, lightly tugging at the ends, a soft sigh fanning across his skin.

He hears her before he sees her, a raspy voice pulling him out of sleep. "Morning, handsome."

That makes him smile with his eyes closed, curling his arm tighter around her soft waist and basking in her warmth.

"G'morning, Shoko."

Her head rests right under his chin, and his breath hitches in his throat when she presses a light kiss to his clavicle. A light nip on the mark she had left on his neck has him shuddering, and he runs his hand up and down her spine, the touch light enough to be teasing.

"I got you something."

Letting her roll away from him was the last thing he wanted to happen so soon, but he relents, watching with rapt attention as she slips on whatever she found lying around.

Kento watches her curiously pace around his room, as if she isn't already a frequent guest, his rumpled dress shirt draped around her shoulders sliding with each step.

It takes all of his willpower not to jump out of bed and pull her back into bed, but his self control wins out, and he leans back against the pillows, the sheets pooling low around his hips.

"Aha!"

Turning around, Shoko triumphantly holds up a small black box, and he feels a familiar sense of anticipation bubble up in his stomach.

He takes the offered present, his eyebrow rising up when he notices how heavy it is.

"For the birthday boy," she says, an easy smirk as she sits on the edge of the bed. But he catches the way her eyes flitted from his eyes to the box and back.

A gift that she must've spent time thinking about. It's obvious, the way she clenches and unclenches her fist, how she keeps sneaking glances at his reaction as the box snaps open.

Inside, nestled in black velvet, is a golden watch kept in place with leather straps. The glass is clear, and the gold shines brightly, even in the dim light of his room.

"Do you like it?"

She sounds nervous, and his eyes snap to her face, finding her lips pressed in a thin line, and she's staring resolutely at the her fidgeting fingers.

"I... yes, of course," Kento replies, a little breathless, "Shoko-"

"It was Satoru's idea, really," Shoko says quickly, backtracking herself from possibly the most precious thing he had ever experienced, "I thought a morning blowjob would be enough, but then he said something about a watch and I figured- Well, I don't really buy anything for you. But it's your birthday, and I-"

She's rambling, and his heart does that flutter again, so he grabs her by the waist, cutting off her sentence with a searing kiss.

Shoko melts into his arms, and he takes his time kissing her thoroughly, until she's breathless and clinging to his biceps.

"You're wonderful," Kento says quietly, pressing their foreheads together. "Thank you."

A blush rises up her cheeks, and he kisses them both before shifting his attention to the watch, turning it over as she groans into his neck.

"Oh. You had it engraved?"

And it's not just any engraving. Not even his name, or her name, or a cheesy shoko-heart-kento.

No, the inside of the watch reads a phrase, in her elegant cursive.

You've done well.

"Sales rep said it was free," Shoko mumbles into his bare shoulder, "I thought about writing, 'time to fuck,' but this seemed better."

He snorts, pressing a kiss into her hair. And, oh, how he loves her.

"Now get dressed," she continues, stepping away and tossing him his clothes, "if you still want to go to the beach."

Shoko doesn't look at him, too busy pretending to sort through his closet, but he can hear the smile in her voice, and his heart swells.

He'll show her a good time, he promises to himself.

For all her hard work, she deserves nothing less.

He'll even wear the tacky Hawaiian shirt she got him last year. Pineapple and flamingos, the whole shebang, just to see her laugh at his expense.

And by the end of the night, she'll be the one wearing nothing but said novelty shirt, and he'll have the pleasure of telling her, "You've done well," as he slowly takes her apart, over and over again.