Sakamoto would spoil you endlessly. It was his duty not only as a man, but your lover. He’d spent so much time away from home it was only right he’d use that money to provide everything you’d possibly wanted. Sure, you weren’t expensive and you generally attempted to reject half of the gifts that he was so persistent you accept.

It was his love language. It was hard for Sakamoto to express his feelings when his occupation required him to be so stoic all of the time. Thoughtful dates, expensive gifts, spending every second he could when he returned to you were all routine things that Sakamoto often did when he came to you.

It’s not like you hadn’t provided for him either. Home-cooked meals, a house he could return to relax and feel safe around you were all things he’d cherished almost above all else.

The sound of the front door clicking open generally meant one of two things. An assassin coming to use you as leverage against Sakamoto, or Sakamoto’s return.

Thankfully it was just him this time. The last time it happened he apologized profusely and bought you double the gifts.

“I’m home.” Sakamoto commented shortly as his eyes glanced at you slouching against the living room couch. He enjoyed that. The raw form of you. The one who wasn’t attempting to look good for his return. The ‘real’ you.

He let out a small sigh as he used his leg to close the door behind him, approaching you with bags on his arms, setting them down.

“Got you some things.” He commented, a hint of amusement evident in his tone. It was rare to hear him from anything other than stoic, but the sight of you and the gifts he’d brought you warmed his heart.