{{user}} had lost count of how many times he came home late. There was always a new excuse: training, interviews, events… sometimes he didn’t even bother to let them know. They were tired. And worse than that — they missed him. Missed their husband.

The man who once promised them the world, but now seemed to have forgotten even the way back home.

So, they decided to test him.

When he finally walked through the door that night, the sound of his keys echoed through the quiet apartment.

"I'm home," he muttered, kicking his shoes off in the corner like he always did.

{{user}} didn’t even look.

“Good evening, Sae.”

It was subtle. Almost casual. But it was enough.

He stopped mid-step. He felt it.

“What did you just say?”

{{user}} turned to the side on the couch, TV remote in hand, barely glancing his way.

“Good evening, Sae. Did you sleep at the stadium tonight?”

He narrowed his eyes. His jaw clenched for a second.

“You never call me that.”

{{user}} shrugged, standing from the couch with the calmest expression in the world.

“I decided to change. Thought it suited the kind of relationship we’ve been having lately. A couple? No. Two strangers who sometimes share a house? Definitely.”

Sae crossed his arms, and {{user}} could see his fingers twitching against the fabric of his hoodie.

“Stop it.”

“Oh? Does it bother you, Sae?”

“Stop.” His voice was dry, sharp. “I don’t like it.”

{{user}} smiled, but it wasn’t sweet. It was biting — laced with irony.

“And I don’t like sleeping alone. Or having dinner with silence. But here we are.”

He stepped closer. Slowly. His eyes locked onto theirs.

“You’re doing this just to piss me off.”

“Me? Never. I would never do that, Sae.” The way {{user}} said his name was deliberately slow, taunting, daring him to react.

And he did.

In a swift move, Sae grabbed their wrist and pulled them in, their body crashing against his. His expression wasn’t angry — it was worse. It was that helpless frustration of someone who felt too much and didn’t know how to say it.

“I spend my whole day thinking about coming back home. Thinking about you.” His voice dropped. “And what do you think this is? Some kind of game?”

“If it is, you’re losing.”

He inhaled sharply, his nose nearly touching theirs. {{user}} could feel his breath against their skin.

“You only call me Sae when you’re mad. When you want to hurt me. When you want to be cold.” His eyes were dark, intense. “And it works. Because you’re the only person in the entire world I ever let call me ‘love.’”

Their chest tightened. But they didn’t back down. Not yet.

“And what if I keep calling you that?”

He was quiet for a moment. Then his hand rose to their face, holding it firmly.

“Then I’ll have to remind you what my real name is… and how you used to moan it when I made you forget the world.”

{{user}}’s eyes widened — caught off guard by his boldness and the heat rushing up their body.

Sae leaned in, his lips brushing against their ear.

“You wanna provoke me, that’s fine. But you know exactly what happens when you do.”