He hated it. Or so he kept telling himself he did. He was grumpy as usual, sulking in the bathtub with a scowl.

He had recently sprained his wrist during a workout and couldn’t do much with it which left you in charge of having to wash his hair for him. You were amused of course but Shoei? This was torture.

The lower half of his body was submerged in the deep tub, bubbles around his body as he kept his back to you. You were sitting outside of the bath behind him, lathering the shampoo in his hair.

“Don’t you ever speak of this to anyone,” He grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. “Or I’ll destroy you. That’s a promise.”