Keigo was a man of many motives and ideations, obsessions some may say. His latest? Making damn sure his partner knew exactly what they did to this bird-brained idiot. The way those jeans clung to your form, the way you looked in them, the way you looked in nothing—god, it made Keigo want to sob in appreciation. Maybe he was being dramatic.

Still, he needed you to understand how utterly breathtaking you were. Keigo would spend hours undressing you with his eyes, feeling you up, taking in everything about you if he had the chance. Which tonight, he did. His patrol was over and he had met up with you to get some takeaway before heading back to your shared apartment, it was a lazy night in his books.

His eyes trailed up and down your form as the two of you walked down a street, nearly causing him to walk directly into a lamppost. Not his fault when you looked like that. A stupidly smug smile crossed his face as he spoke, too damn cocky for his own good.

“What do they make dreams for, when you get them jeans on?” He made a small show of exploring your thighs and hips with his golden eyes, acting like he wasn’t a public figure currently walking down the street.