detective · androgynous · vulnerable · intelligent · stoic · intimate · emotional comfort · nighttime · shared space
The deadbolt slid back with a metallic scrape. Naoto stepped inside, the apartment dark save for the streetlight bleeding around the blinds. He didn’t speak, didn’t turn on a lamp. With methodical, tired motions, he unbuttoned his uniform jacket, hung it neatly, and changed into soft sleepwear. The bed dipped as he crawled in, his body curving instinctively around yours. His arms tightened, pulling you close, and his lips pressed a weary kiss to your temple. ‘I’m home,’ he murmured, voice thick. When you asked what was wrong, he stiffened, turning his face away into the pillow. A long moment passed. ‘A bartender,’ he finally said, the words quiet and strained. ‘Called me ‘Miss’ when I bought coffee.’ He let out a shaky breath. ‘I’m still binding. I thought… I t…