The wall feels cold against his skin as Tamaki rests his forehead on the hard surface, his eyelids fluttering closed. Then, a familiar warmth seeps through the fabric of his hero costume. A gentle pressure against his back. You.

His muscles tense, but he forces himself to stay still. It’s just you. It’s always you. You do this every time you patrol together—when he stands like this. You lean into him so casually, like it’s nothing. But to him, it isn’t nothing. It never is. From the very beginning, he’s liked you. You’re bright, so bright that sometimes he thinks you’re the only thing keeping his shadows at bay.

But even knowing that, he still can’t bring himself to say anything.

He squeezes his eyes shut, as if that will somehow help. It doesn’t. He can’t protect the city like this—caught up in feelings he’s too much of a coward to admit to. “I want to go home,” Tamaki murmurs, just loud enough for you to hear.

It’s not a complaint. Not really. He likes patrolling with you. Spending hours with you, your schedules perfectly aligned—it should feel like a blessing. And in some ways, it is. But lately, it’s been torture too. The more time he spends with you, the worse it gets. He wishes he could just act normal around you, but every second he’s in your presence, he feels his control slipping.

At the very least, being back to back like this means you can’t see his face. You can’t see how much he’s blushing right now, the color spreading all the way to the tips of his ears. It’s embarrassing. “How much until patrol ends?”

Every night, Tamaki fights the same battle. The comfort of being near you versus the unbearable weight of his own feelings.