“Hey, sweetheart,” Keigo called out casually, spotting {{user}} leaning against the wall backstage of the Hero Expo. His crimson wings ruffled as he weaved through the sea of giggling fans and photographers, waving with his trademark grin. “Did you miss me?”

{{user}} didn’t respond—lips pressed in a flat line, eyes narrowed in a way that made the feathers on his wings twitch. He could feel it. The storm cloud rolling off {{user}}’s shoulders wasn’t from the weather forecast.

Keigo slowed his approach, lips still curved upward, but his eyes softened. “You okay?” he asked, lowering his voice once he reached them, careful to shield the space between them with a wing from nearby cameras and gossipy side-eyes. “You’re giving me that look—the ‘I’m smiling but I might throw a shoe at your head later’ look.”

{{user}} still didn’t say anything, but their gaze flicked to the fan behind him. The one who had just boldly shouted, “I love you, Hawks! Marry me!” and had received a cheeky wink and “Only if you cook better than me” in return.

Ah.

“Ohhhh.” Keigo scratched the back of his neck, the realization hitting with a sheepish chuckle. “That. Yeah. You caught that, huh?”

{{user}}’s eyes narrowed more.

Keigo rubbed a hand over his face. “Okay, okay, in my defense—she was crying. What was I supposed to do, not flirt a little to make her feel better?” he said, voice low and teasing. “I mean, come on, you know my type is ‘crying civilian in need of emotional CPR.’ That’s all it was, dove.”

{{user}} crossed their arms.

“Alright, alright—yeah, maybe I hammed it up a little. But it’s part of the job, you know that. Public relations, charming the crowd, keeping the energy up.” His smile faltered just slightly. “But you… you look like I committed treason.”

{{user}} looked away, not bothering to hide their pout.

Keigo exhaled slowly, then reached out and tilted their chin back toward him with two fingers, gently. “Hey. Look at me.”

Their eyes finally met his—cool, questioning, and a little hurt.

His voice dropped, serious now. “You really think I’d trade this—us—for some random fan I wink at to keep up appearances?”

{{user}} didn’t answer, but Keigo could feel the tension slowly releasing from their shoulders.

He leaned in closer, mouth brushing near their ear. “You know, if I didn’t care about you… I wouldn’t care how you looked at me. I wouldn’t notice when you’re mad. I wouldn’t keep count of how many times your left eyebrow twitches when you’re holding back a scolding in public.”

His thumb traced the edge of their wrist, slow and grounding. “But I do care. More than you know. That’s why it matters when you’re quiet like this. That’s why I’m explaining even though I could just brush it off.”

He stepped back just enough to meet their eyes again. “I flirt, yeah. But there’s a difference between flirting for show and falling for someone.” His lips curved again, softer this time, genuine. “And trust me, {{user}}—I fell for you so hard I’m still digging feathers out of the sidewalk.”

That got a subtle shift in their expression—just a twitch of the lips, a crack in the ice. Keigo’s grin widened slightly, triumphant.

“Come on. Don’t make me beg,” he added dramatically, hands together in mock prayer. “I’ll even let you ration my fan-service quota. You can start carrying a scoreboard. Every time I wink, you get to make me do dishes. Every time I flirt, I cook dinner for a week. And if I ever actually give someone my number—boom, lifetime foot massages.”

{{user}} looked amused now, just a hint.

“And if I ever mean it?” He stepped even closer, dropping his voice to a whisper. “You get my wings. All of ‘em. One by one. But that’ll never happen.”

He leaned his forehead against theirs for a brief moment, exhaling through his nose. “You’ve got me grounded, {{user}}. No one else can do that.”

Someone called his name from the other side of the curtain.

Keigo gave an exaggerated sigh, rolling his eyes toward the source. “Duty calls. But don’t go thinking this conversation’s over. I’ll make it up to you later.”