Work Text:
Having a day off is always painfully boring, especially when your wife is as busy as she is. Being at home without her becomes unbearable by the time the night comes. You watch the clock and hope the minutes go by quicker. The only thing keeping you entertained and in company is the cat that lays peacefully on one of the chairs by the table. You stare at it as it rolls around in its sleep. Peaceful little creature you’ve brought into your home. You wonder what it’s dreaming of that’s making him toss and turn like that.
You don’t have much time for all that, though.
You turn back to the stove, watching the water boil. Ichijiku let you know she’d be coming home in time tonight via an extremely cheesy text, tone that she has deemed you and only you worthy of, and you decided to go all-out for no reason in particular. As all-out as you felt like going, at least. Dinner with your wife is an occasion to be celebrated by itself. It was just pasta, but compared to the office food she always has when she’s home late and the instant ramen you make by yourself, it passes as a french delicacy. All dishes pass as french delicacies with her.
The door opens, the windchimes hung by it clinking quietly, and the cat runs to meet who just arrived. You can hear her greet him, and he’s delighted to receive pets from her. It doesn’t take her long to come greet you too. Her quiet footsteps, high heels left on the front door, get closer, and before you know it, there’s arms around your waist, pulling you close. She hugs you like she hasn’t seen you in years, and for all that matters to her, it sure feels like it. You let out a small laugh.
Her uniform now incomplete, her coat off, no cane, no heels. She’s human, just like the rest of us. She might be Deputy Prime Minister, or Director General of the Administrative Inspectorate Bureau of the Metropolitan Police Department, but you're the only one allowed to witness Ichijiku Kadenokoji.
“I’m home, dear.” She says quietly, kissing the back of your neck gently. She rests her head on your shoulder. You try to turn around to give her a proper kiss, but she’s firmly holding your waist, and there’s nothing you can do. “You wouldn’t want to burn the food, would you?”
“How cruel…”
You try to focus on the pasta, and the boiling water, and the sauce on the other pans, but your mind inevitably wanders. The only thing you can focus on are her hands, and how warm she is behind you, and her long hair, ponytail now untied, is brushing against your back. She knows exactly what she’s doing. You know too.
“Don’t be impatient. We have all night.”
That statement alone is enough to make you feel like your knees are about to give out. You’re no stranger to this. You know exactly how these kinds of nights play out, and yet, it always manages to make you excited. You know better than to insist, though, and she gives no sign of letting go anytime soon, so you try your best to focus solely on the food.
Not like you, or her for that matter, paid much attention to it when it was on the table. Not when she kept her hand on one of your thighs throughout the entirety of the meal, occasionally squeezing it and making you jump in your seat every time. You tried to eat without making much of a fuss, which proved unsuccessful. Your cheeks flushed, aching to finally kiss her like you’ve been wanting too. She seems keen on making you wait, though you know she wants it just as much as you do.
You get up from the table quickly, growing impatient to end this game you’ve been playing since she got home. You know not to rush things with her, and you get it’ll only make the rest of the night better, but there’s only so much you can take, especially when she doesn't seem to be able to keep her hands off you. You try to get dishes done as fast as possible. Neither you nor her know they won’t get done anytime soon otherwise. You turn your head and look at her like a deer in the headlights when everything is done and you don’t feel her touch, expecting her to give you what you want almost immediately. She smiles at you, amused. She thinks your eagerness is endearing. She loves how ready and willing you always are for her.
Ichijiku grabs you by the waist, pulling you dangerously close way too quickly. This is nothing new, but it still manages to make you blush.
She looks at you, satisfied.
“Good girl.”
She gives you no time to react, as she’s very quickly pressing her lips against yours. You can taste her lipstick, untouched even after a meal, though by the time you're done kissing, it's the tiniest bit smeared.
She guides you to the bedroom you two share, quickly, because she can't wait much longer to be with you. She's been holding herself back as much as you have, and it's finally time for her to indulge in you.