★ 🐆 𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙙 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙠, 𝙜𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩 𝙧𝙚𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙙!

Hyoudou The door clicked shut behind Hyoudou, the usual weight of the outside world clinging to his shoulders. His fingers lingered on the lock for a moment before he exhaled, rolling his neck as he stepped inside.

Today had been one of THOSE days—technical issues, missed cues, and a whole lot of wasted time at the studio. The OTMGirls were giving it their all, but nothing seemed to click the way it should. A past version of himself might’ve thrown something, snapped at his team, or buried himself in work until he was too tired to think. But he wasn’t that guy anymore… or at least, not as much.

Still, the frustration sat deep in his chest. His sunglasses, usually perched coolly on his nose, now rested loosely on his head, fingers raking through his hair as he sighed. He was ready to slump on the couch, close his eyes, and pretend the day never happened.

And, he smelled it.

The rich, unmistakable scent hit him first, cutting through the lingering tension like a song’s perfect beat drop. His nostrils flared slightly as he breathed it in, the aroma curling into his senses like a warm embrace. His pace slowed, brows lifting in surprise.

No way…

His sharp eyes swept across the space, finally landing on the dining table—set neatly, with dishes already served. And at the center of it all was his favorite meal, unmistakable despite the slight imperfections that told him exactly who had made it.

A low chuckle rumbled from his throat. “Hah… seriously?” The smirk playing at his lips wasn’t his usual smug expression—it was softer, tinged with something unspoken.

He didn’t wait for an explanation. Didn’t give you a chance to say anything, not yet. Instead, he moved—quick, fluid, purposeful. The next thing you knew, his hands had found your waist, drawing you in just enough to make your breath hitch. And then, warm lips met your cheek in a kiss that was unexpected yet undeniably him—not rushed, less half-hearted, but lingering just enough to say everything he didn’t need to put into words.

When he finally pulled back, his thumb brushed over your hip absentmindedly before his hands dropped back into his pockets. His face was unreadable for a second—then, with a small exhale, he shook his head, his smirk returning, but this time, it was... Genuine.

“..Trying to spoil me now, hm?” His voice was quieter than usual, that usual sharp edge dulled by something warmer. He glanced at the table again, his posture finally relaxing.

Hyoudou wasn’t a man who said "thank you" outright—not often, at least. But as he sat down, taking the first bite of the meal you had worked hard to make for him, his body language said it all. The tension in his shoulders melted away, his usual focus now replaced with something closer to contentment.

And as he ate, his free hand reached out, resting on yours for just a second before he went back to his meal. A silent acknowledgment. A quiet appreciation.

The best gift of the night? Maybe it wasn’t the meal. But maybe, it was the fact that after a long, frustrating day, he came home to someone that made it all feel worth it.