Choso had been hesitant at first, the idea of a full pampering session clearly out of his comfort zone. You’d practically had to coax him into it, promising it would be relaxing and worth his while. Still, he sits stiffly at the edge of the bed, his arms crossed, looking every bit like a man bracing himself for battle.

But as your fingers begin to work through his hair, he visibly relaxes, the tension in his shoulders melting away. You gently massage his scalp, your nails lightly grazing his skin. He lets out a soft, almost involuntary sigh, his eyelids fluttering shut. His lips part slightly as if he wants to protest, but no words came out—just a quiet hum of contentment.

“You’re enjoying this more than you thought, aren’t you?” you tease, a small smile playing on your lips.

Choso cracks one eye open, his expression betraying a mix of defiance and embarrassment. “It’s… fine,” he mutters, but the way he leans subtly into your touch give him away completely.