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Tadashi isn’t sure why he’s so nervous the first time he ends up with Ainosuke in his own room. It’s not as if any part of it is going to be particularly shocking to Ainosuke—he’s the one who gave him the room. And it’s not as if he has to be ashamed of its modesty either—his room is far from it. Being the secretary to the head of the house, and for so long, has earned him the largest room in the staff quarters of the Shindo residence. The decor may be a little sparse because he hardly knows what to do with the space, and his mattress is only a queen in comparison to Ainosuke’s super king, and the thread count on his sheets may not be very high, but still. He keeps his room nice, has added touches of personality in the houseplants scattered around the room’s surfaces. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.
Still, when Ainosuke pulls him away to his room because it’s further away from anyone else in the house and Ainosuke feels like being loud, Tadashi can’t help but feel a little anxious about how Ainosuke will react to seeing his ‘new’ room for the first time.
It turns out, in the end, that Tadashi needn't have worried. The minute Ainosuke’s got his door shut and locked, he’s on Tadashi, kissing him fiercely and guiding him over toward the bed. Ainosuke pins Tadashi there, straddling his hips and interlacing their fingers against the sheets. He pauses for a moment, pulling away with a slightly flushed and breathless look, and Tadashi thinks for perhaps the millionth time in his life that he would do anything for this man.
“I like your room,” Ainosuke tells Tadashi, a little manic, eyes hungrily raking over Tadashi’s face. “Bigger than I remember it being when we were teenagers.”
“Funny,” Tadashi breathes, “I remember having that same thought the first time we finally fucked in your room again.”
A look of confusion crosses Ainosuke’s face, eyebrows knitting together just slightly. “But I’ve been in the same room my entire…” Ainosuke trails off as it clicks and he looks at Tadashi incredulously, practically scandalized. “Tadashi Kikuchi, you naughty dog,” he says, teasing and perhaps a little pleased with his secretary. And then he’s laughing, and that beautiful, genuine smile of his is splitting his face before he buries it in Tadashi’s neck and Tadashi grins, any anxiety and nervousness he’d been holding in his body melting away.
It isn’t long before Ainosuke is sitting up, leaning across Tadashi’s body to open the drawer in his bedside table—a blind guess, and a correct one. Yet, Ainosuke still pauses as he looks at the drawer’s contents, that same look of confusion from earlier crossing his face once more. He’s practically frozen, staring into the drawer, and Tadashi is about to ask him if something’s wrong when Ainosuke finally reaches in and procures the bottle of lube Tadashi keeps there. It’s an odd moment, and Tadashi attempts to file it away in his brain to ask about later, but soon enough Ainosuke’s hands are on him and any coherent thought he’d been attempting to form before that fails entirely.
It’s not until later, after everything is over with and Tadashi is blissfully tucked between the crook of Ainosuke’s arm and torso, Ainosuke idly playing with Tadashi’s fingers, that Ainosuke mutters, soft and curious, “Puppy?”
“Mmm?” comes Tadashi’s sleepy response, barely fighting off the near-constant exhaustion he feels now that it’s combined with a warm, satisfied afterglow.
“Why is there a bottle of my cologne in your nightstand?”
Tadashi’s eyes fly open, instantly awake again.
Fuck.
He knew there was something in his room to be embarrassed about.
“It’s not yours. I bought it myself,” he supplies, feeling heat rise to his face despite assuming his carefully trained neutral expression.
Ainosuke chuckles. “Right. Not quite as sexy, but I’ll take it,” he says, abandoning Tadashi’s fingers to instead run his own through Tadashi’s hair, gently massaging his scalp. Petting him. “That doesn’t quite answer my question though, does it, puppy?”
Tadashi does not lie to Ainosuke often anymore, but he is still capable of it. He decides now is one of those rare moments where that capability is warranted. “I just found I liked the scent so, I got a bottle to wear for myself.”
“Oh, how nice,” Ainosuke simpers. “Strange how I’ve never noticed you wearing it, though.”
Tadashi doesn’t have a response for that. He can’t even think of a plausible lie. He can’t say he only wears it when Ainosuke isn’t around, because he knows for a fact that the bottle is at least half empty at this point, and when the fuck was the last time he went even one day without seeing Ainosuke at least briefly?
“Tadashi,” Ainosuke purrs, and Tadashi realizes he’s been quiet for too long. The hand in his hair has gone still. “…I couldn’t help but notice while I was down here that your bedsheets smell awfully familiar.”
Tadashi reacts at last, groaning and covering his face with his hands as he rolls away from Ainosuke. When he'd started spraying his own bedsheets with his boss's cologne he'd never have imagined in a million years that said boss would be in said bedsheets one day. Because why on earth would he have!? Ainosuke laughs, bright and delighted, and follows after Tadashi, wrapping him up in his arms.
“Oh, puppy!” he says, attempting to dig his nose into the space between Tadashi’s hands and his beet-red face. “You’re so goddamn cute sometimes I can’t stand it.”
Tadashi only groans again, turning his face into his pillows to evade Ainosuke. “We are never having sex in my room again,” he mutters miserably into the fabric.
Ainosuke squeezes Tadashi, whispers into his ear, “You’re sure you wouldn’t prefer your bed to smell like your real master more often?”
Tadashi pauses at that, slowly turning his face away from the pillow to peer at Ainosuke through a slot in his fingers. Ainosuke is flushed, smirking down at Tadashi. He looks so amused, and Tadashi knows that Ainosuke loves it when he expresses his opinions, especially about Ainosuke, so…
“…The real thing does smell a lot better.”
“Hmmm,” Ainosuke hums, smug and satisfied. “That’s a good boy.”