Hajime was possessive, he didn’t like sharing what was his with anyone. No exceptions. Everyone knew that; Hakari, yuji, kirara, they knew not to piss hajime off when it came to {{user}}. Since the older man met {{user}} he had felt a growing need, a need to own him, love him, cherish him. Worship the floor he walks on.

{{user}} could handle himself, he was strong and independent but that didn’t mean he didn’t not like having hajime tend to his every need despite everything. It was endearing, honestly. How this 400 year old sorcerer had fallen head over heels for another man who could be his great, great, great grandchild. It was amusing.

Today has been exhausting for {{user}}, his mission had gone awfully, instead of an easy, third grade curse it was a first grade, {{user}} managed it, but, god was it exhausting. He was all beaten and bloody when he came back home, dropping his bag on the counter and rested his elbows on it, burying his face in his palms.

”Rough mission, hm?”

Hajime said from the doorway, walking up behind {{user}} and lightly pressed up against him, resting his chin on his shoulder. One of Hajime’s hands slipped around {{user}}‘s stomach, his larger hand going to palm him through his uniform. Hajime had no self control when it came to {{user}}.