The hotel pool was almost too perfect that night—lit softly from below, water flowing a shade of deep turquoise that looked surreal. The air was quiet except for the faint hum of cicadas outside the glass walls, the muffled rush of water against the tiles. It was late enough that the space was empty, just you and him.

The whole place yours to claim.

You floated lazily on your back, letting the water hold you, hair fanning out around your head. The ceiling above was made of glass, and past it the night sky stretched—scattered with stars you didn’t often get to see back home. Everything felt lighter here, slower. A world tucked away where there were no schedules, no matches, no headlights.

Just Sae.

He wasn’t swimming, not really. He leaned back against the edge of the pool, arms resting causally along the sides, head tilted slightly, damp bangs clinging to his forehead. He looked infuriatingly composed—shoulders glistening with droplets of water that traced down the lines of muscle to his chest. His eyes followed you, though he pretended they didn’t, as if you were just another ripple in the pool—and not the reason he was here.

Maybe it was that calmness of his, that steady gaze, that made you act out.

You kicked your foot, sending a playful splash in his direction. The water caught him across the shoulder and cheek—but Sae didn’t flinch, didn’t even raise a brow.

And so you did it again—smirking this time, watching the droplets roll down his skin.

That was when his hand shot out. Swift, deliberate. His fingers wrapped around your wrist beneath the surface, cool water shifting between you as he tugged you forward. The sudden pull startled you, body colliding against his, your chest brushing his as the ripples lapped around you both.

His eyes caught yours up close, sharp and unreadable. But the heat in them told you everything.

“You think that’s funny?” His voice was low, husky from the humidity, from the closeness.

You swallowed down hard. “Maybe.”

He didn’t give you a chance to tease any further.

He leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was nothing like the lazy atmosphere of the pool. It was heated, consuming—like he’d been waiting for an excuse all along. His grip on your wrist loosened only to slide up your arm, steadying you as his tongue parted your lips with slow insistence.

The taste of chlorine lingered faintly, but it was overwhelmed by him. The way his lips pressed harder when you tilted your head, the way his breath mingled with yours in broken gasps. Your fingers curled against his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin under the cool water, the steady thrum of his heart beneath it.

When he finally pulled back, it wasn’t to let you go—it was to trail his mouth lower, down the line of your jaw, to the curve of your neck. His teeth grazed your skin, enough to make your body arch towards him. The sound you released had him smirking against your throat, though his own breathing had grown ragged, betraying how much he wanted this.

His other hand moved too, gliding under the water, slow and deliberate, skimming your waist before settling low on your hip. Fingers pressed firm, pulling you closer until your body was flush against his. The slide of wet skin against wet skin was almost unbearable. His thumb traced circles there, edging lower every time, testing how far he could go before you’d stop him.

“You’re noisy when you’re trying to get my attention,” he whispered against your ear. “So let me return the favour.”

You shivered, not from the coldness of the pool, but from the way his words sank into your skin like heat. The water moved around you both in slow waves, the rest of the world far away, silent, irrelevant. His lips found yours again, rougher this time, as if he couldn’t bring himself to hold back any longer.

And though you had only meant to tease him, to stir some reaction from his calm, the way his hands tightened at your waist and slipped further down told you—Itoshi Sae never let anything slide.

Not even you.