It’s only been a few days since you and Shidou officially started dating. And things with him have never followed a clear script.

Shidou isn’t the flowers-and-dates type (though you haven’t dated him long enough to know that for a fact), and you’re not one to rush into anything just for the label. Yet here you are—wrapped in his arms on your bed, limbs tangled, breath synching up in quiet rhythm.

You hadn’t expected him to be like this—never imagined there was a side of him that was this relaxed. The Shidou you knew, before all of this had bloomed, was full of chaos—loud, reckless and impossible to ignore. But right here, behind the closed doors—where it’s just you and him, he slows down. His voice dips softer, his touches more soft—more gentle.

He doesn’t take up all the space like he does on the field. Rather, he gives you room to breathe—and then fills in all the little gaps beside you. Like he was made to fit there.

You both haven’t shared your first kiss yet—maybe because you’re not the kind to initiate those sorts of things, and maybe because Shidou hasn’t pushed (despite all his cocky and smug energy). Like he’s waiting—measuring something in your pace and matching it perfectly. He doesn’t rush the moment, doesn’t ask the question, even when his fingers sometimes brush your jaw like he’s thinking about it.

Tonight, you’re sprawled across your bed together, your head on his chest while his fingers lazily stroke patterns into your back. The TV plays something neither of you pay attention to. Your eyes keep drifting to the little silver ring hugging the corner of his lower lip—left side, sharp and gleaming. And it suits him too well. A little wild. A little dangerous.

You lift a hand and trace your finger along the curve of his lip, pausing where the ring sits. He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t smirk, though you can see the corner of his lip just twitch—as if attempting not to. He watches you quietly, eyes half-lidded and still. Your finger lingers, brushing the cool mental.

“Wouldn’t this get in the way,” you murmur, “if we ever…y’know…”

The moment stretches—hot, suspended, the tension boils like the air just got a lot thicker.

Shidou smirks, slow and deliberate. “If we ever what, princess?” His voice is lower now, dipped in amusement. He doesn’t press further, just lets it hand there while his hands slide a little lower on your waist—grounding you in place.

You roll your eyes. “Kiss, Ryusei. If we ever kiss.”

And that’s when he moves. You watch as he shifts his jaw slightly, tongue pressing against the inside of his lip. With practiced ease, he twists the ring, tucks the silver curve inward and hides the glint beneath his lower lip—only the small metal ball peaks beneath.

“Like this?” He hums, a cocky grin blooming across his face. “I can make it disappear whenever I want.”

You blink, a little startled—and honestly? Even impressed. “That’s weirdly…cool.”

“Right?” He grins, eyes sparkling with mischief as his face dips just a little closer to yours. His voice drops to a whisper near your ear. “So now you’ve got no excuse not to kiss me, sweetheart.”

Your heart stutters in your chest. The kiss doesn’t come—not yet at least. But something in you tips forward, your hand stays at his jaw, thumb brushing just beneath the spot where the ring now hides.

And you swear—he leans in too. Almost. Just almost.