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The cursed spirit had been exorcised with the usual efficiency that came with working alongside Nanami Kento: clean, precise, and without unnecessary flair. Now, as the two of you stepped into the small hotel room booked for the night, the exhaustion started to set in and with it, a sudden, palpable silence.
You dropped your bag and scanned the room.
“Well.”
Nanami followed your gaze. Then he paused. His lips pressed into a thin line behind his glasses.
There was only one bed.
A queen-sized one at least, but still, one.
“I’ll go speak to the front desk,” he said immediately, already turning toward the door.
You reached for his wrist without thinking.
“ It’s late. There probably aren’t any other rooms. Plus, we’ve both sleptt in worse places than this.”
Nanami went rigid the moment your hand touched him.
You quickly let go. “Sorry, I didn’t mean…”
“No, no,” he said, adjusting his tie even though it was already perfectly in place. “It’s fine. You’re right.”
You watched as he stood awkwardly near the foot of the bed, clearly doing math in his head about angles, boundaries, and appropriate pillow-to-human ratios.
“I can sleep on the floor,” he offered. “I’ll ask for extra blankets.”
You frowned. “Nanami, ew, no. That floor looks like a cursed spirit died on it and they just threw a rug over it.”
He actually looked down and studied it for a second.
“I suppose hygiene may be a concern.”
You nodded, trying not to laugh. “So we’ll just stay on our respective sides and build a pillow wall, war time style.”
Nanami hesitated. Then gave the smallest nod. “Acceptable.”
~**~
The lights were off. The pillow wall was constructed. You lay on your side, facing away from him, trying not to overthink every movement.
You’d been on plenty of missions with Nanami before, but sharing a bed, even in the most innocent way, felt intimate. Too intimate for the strictly professional relationship you pretended to have with him.
He didn’t speak for a long time, but you could feel the tension radiating off his back like static electricity.
Then, softly:
“I apologize if this is uncomfortable for you.”
You turned slightly toward him. “It’s not. Honestly.”
“I don’t want to overstep.”
You smiled faintly in the dark, something bright blooming in your chest. “You’re the least ‘overstepping’ person I know, Nanami.”
You could hear the faint rustle of sheets as he shifted. “I don’t take these situations lightly.”
“I know,” you said gently. “You take everything seriously. Even Gojo, from time to time.”
“I take you seriously,” he said before he could stop himself.
That made you blink. Slowly.
Then: “Well, I take you seriously, too.”
Another agonizingly long pause.
“Would it be entirely inappropriate,” he began, each word slow and deliberate, “if I… asked to share the space more comfortably?”
Your heart fluttered in your chest.
“You want to cuddle?” you asked, your voice just shy of teasing.
“I wouldn’t call it that,” he muttered, clearly flustered. “More like, maintaining comfort and optimizing rest. In proximity.”
You grinned into your pillow. “That’s the most Nanami way to ask for cuddles I’ve ever heard.”
When you scooted back just an inch, you felt his arm hesitantly, awkwardly, slide around your waist, unsure but firm. He was warm. Steady.
You whispered, “This okay?”
His breath brushed your neck. “It is. Thank you for being understanding.”
You nestled closer. “Anytime, Nanami.”
The room fell quiet again, except now the silence felt soft. Comfortable.
~**~
You woke slowly to the quiet hum of morning. Soft birdsong outside, the faint rush of cars on the street below, and a deep, even breath against the back of your neck.
For a moment, you weren’t sure where you were.
Then it hit you: hotel room. Shared bed. Nanami.
And the unmistakable feel of his arm still wrapped around your waist.
You stirred gently, thinking you might try to slip out before it got awkward but the second you shifted, his arm tightened slightly, just enough to hold you there.
“You’re awake?” you whispered.
“Yes. I was pretending not to be.” came his voice, still hoarse from sleep
“Was it for my sake or yours?”
“Both.”
You turned slowly to face him, and his eyes met yours; tired, soft around the edges, golden in the morning light.
For a man known for being so composed, he looked completely unguarded now.
You kept your voice gentle. “Sleep okay?”
Nanami nodded, then looked faintly annoyed with himself.
“Suspiciously well.”
You raised a brow. “Suspicious?”
“I don’t typically sleep well in unfamiliar environments.” He studied you like he was analyzing data. “I can only assume physical proximity played a role in enhanced rest.”
You tried not to laugh. “Are you saying I optimized your sleep?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
You snorted, and Nanami sat up with a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair, his usual calm back in place, but the tips of his ears faintly pink.
“I believe it would be best if we treated last night as a one-time, practical decision,” he said, though he didnt meet your eyes.
You tilted your head. “You regret it?”
“No,” he said quickly, too quickly. Then cleared his throat. “I simply think it would be too complicated.”
You sat up beside him, brushing sleep from your eyes. “Nanami?”
He finally looked at you.
You reached out and rested your hand on his. “It’s only complicated if we pretend we don’t want it.”
He stared at your hand, then at your face, like he was weighing something heavy in his chest.
“You’d want that?” he asked quietly. “More than just shared proximity for comfort?”
You smiled. “I wanted it before there was even a pillow wall.”
He exhaled, and something in him seemed to relax, like he’d been holding his breath for days.
“Good,” he said, voice low and sincere. “Because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”
You leaned your head on his shoulder, letting the silence stretch comfortably between you. And when he wrapped his arm around you again, it wasn’t hesitant this time.