Work Text:
Morning is announced in Kazuma's apartment by a muffled, electronic ringtone. It's unfamiliar to him, but at the same time he's sure he's heard it before - probably one of those generic default chimes. And not the one his phone is set to. Which means...
He opens his eyes and his mind is flooded with images of last night. Bishamon is asleep beside him, one bare shoulder exposed, long hair fanned out over the sheets.
For several seconds, all Kazuma can do is stare. She's still here. Right next to him, living proof that it wasn't all a dream. Kazuma can feel his heart fluttering, elation replacing the tired fog in his brain; the only possible better way to wake up would be if she was closer...
Then the ringtone goes off again, startling Kazuma back to the present, and he drags himself away from Bishamon's sleeping form to the edge of the bed.
Sliding out from under the covers, he rubs one eye and fumbles for his glasses before standing up. Even with the curtains still drawn, he can tell his bedroom is a mess - clothes strewn around the floor, some his own and some clearly not, along with a discarded bath towel. Kazuma picks his way between them to the other side of the bed.
It takes a few moments to locate Bishamon's pants and dig her phone out of her pocket, and by then the ringing has stopped again. Just before Kazuma can check the numbers on the missed calls, the phone vibrates in his hand and alerts him of a new text message, seconds before his own phone vibrates on the nightstand.
Bishamon turns over, the sheets falling further down her body. "What's going on?"
Her voice is thick, barely awake. Kazuma keeps his eyes averted as he walks over to hand Bishamon her phone.
"Someone at headquarters is trying to contact us," he says. "It sounds urgent."
Bishamon groans. "Their timing leaves something to be desired. I was rather hoping for a few more hours to ourselves this morning..."
Immediately Kazuma's face flushes, and he turns around and busies himself with gathering up the clothes on the floor. She was planning on... she was looking forward to...?
But that's going to have to wait. They both need to hurry up and get dressed so they can get to work - and because Kazuma is becoming more and more self-conscious about how much of him is exposed, standing here in his boxers. Quickly he dumps all the clothes on the bed beside Bishamon and crosses to his dresser to pull out a fresh pair of pants.
Bishamon seems less eager to start her day. When Kazuma glances behind him, he can see her sitting in bed, running one hand through her hair while she stares groggily at her phone. She still hasn't moved by the time Kazuma is finished buttoning up a clean shirt.
"I can, uh, step outside while you get dressed, if you want," Kazuma offers, reaching for his tie.
Instead, Bishamon throws back the covers and drapes her legs over the side of the bed, naked as the day she was born but for the hair cascading down her sides. "You don't have to," she says, and starts to dig around in the pile of clothes for her underwear.
Kazuma gulps and tears his gaze away. A few more hours to themselves is sounding better by the minute. He disappears into the bathroom to brush his teeth and firmly think about something else.
It doesn't really work. His mind is stuck on this, on treasuring each memory of last night, starting right from the point he kissed Bishamon good night on his doorstep. That's a common end to their dates, and so is Bishamon lingering even - but the way she wrapped her arms around his neck and asked if she could come in, and how quickly she made it clear that she had no intention of leaving anytime soon -
Kazuma splashes cold water on his face and roughly wipes it away with a washcloth. Replaying that scene in his mind, too, can wait. He leaves the bathroom and crosses straight to the bedroom door without checking on Bishamon's state of dress.
In the kitchen, he only gets as far as pouring himself a glass of juice and unwrapping a loaf of bread before Bishamon appears, still buttoning up her rumpled shirt.
"We had better go separately, like usual," Kazuma suggests, and glances at Bishamon as he removes two bread slices.
To his relief, Bishamon agrees. "I must stop by my manor first anyway," she adds. "I'll tell Tsuyu not to expect me for a while yet."
Kazuma nods, staring at the bread in his hands. "Um, if anyone asks..." His throat suddenly feels dry, and he swallows. "We can keep this between us, right?"
"If you wish." Bishamon straightens the cuffs on her sleeves, seemingly unperturbed.
"I just don't want anyone spreading rumors, or making assumptions, or..."
He trails off, and Bishamon smiles at him. "I understand. It is not really anyone else's business, anyway."
Kazuma's shoulders sag as he relaxes. Of course, it's no big surprise; they had come to much the same conclusion about seeing each other in general. But he knows Bishamon is about as straightforward as they come, and he would hate to make her lie to protect him. It's not like it's a scandal anyway, right? They're both consenting adults, and this is behind closed doors. Even if they are technically coworkers, and if she is seven years older than him, and if she was once almost his guardian...
Ignoring those thoughts, Kazuma finally slides the bread into the toaster and pushes the lever. "Do you want anything to eat before you go? I've got bread, and cereal, and a few eggs left."
When he turns around to lean his back against the counter, Bishamon is already reaching for her keys. "I had better not. Tenjin won't be happy if I keep him waiting too long."
"If you're sure..."
Kazuma is about to offer her something she can take with her instead, but gets distracted by how she changes course to step closer to him. In one heartbeat she kisses him on the lips, quick and chaste, and in the next she's heading for the entranceway.
"I will see you there, then." She throws a smile over her shoulder as she opens the door.
Weakly smiling back, Kazuma says, "Right," and then she's gone. His trembling arms, propped against the counter, feel like they're barely holding him up.
Is this really not a dream? He's had plenty of those before, late-morning visions of getting up and preparing for his day, only to then wake up for real and have to do it all over again. And, he can admit at least to himself, plenty of fantasies of Bishamon spending the night, too. Only they aren't usually combined. He could hardly dare to imagine Bishamon sleeping next to him, or getting dressed in front of him, or kissing him goodbye as she heads to work -
The toaster pops behind him, and Kazuma jumps, launching himself away from the counter. It takes a moment before he can feel his heartbeat start to slow, hand pressed to his chest and eyes closed. When it does, he removes the bread and goes to rifle through the fridge for some jam, finally steadying himself.
Yes, this seems plenty real... and better than any of his dreams yet, because he gets the feeling this one isn't going to end anytime soon.