Atsumu hadn’t meant to spend the night—not really. When he woke up, his eyes adjusting to the spinning blades of the ceiling fan that were too oval shaped to be his own, his immediate thought was ‘oh, shit.’

Maybe the him from last night, all riddled with dopamine, had thought it wouldn’t hurt. But present him, currently nude and not in his own bed, thought the exact opposite. He scrambled to his feet with the gracefulness of a waddling wombat, searching for his clothes.