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The kettle whistled softly in the background, steam curling up like lazy clouds. Ren, wrapped in a soft robe, was carefully arranging cups and a small plate of almond biscuits on the table. The room glowed with the gentle light of evening lanterns, casting flickers of gold across the shelves and cushions.
Shinomi had taken it upon himself to make himself very comfortable on Ren's bed—lying on his stomach, chin resting on a pillow, legs casually kicking the air like a bored cat.
"Why are you in my bed again?" Ren asked without looking up.
"Because I had to watch you struggle with tea like an old lady. I got tired."
"You could've helped."
"I could've. But watching you get flustered is a rare delicacy," Shinomi replied with a smirk, eyes closed in smug satisfaction.
Ren rolled his eyes but secretly smiled. He brought the tray over and set it down gently. "Sit up, Your Highness. Tea is served."
Shinomi dragged himself up with dramatic effort, flopping next to Ren and resting his chin on his shoulder. "Feed me."
"No."
"Just one biscuit."
"No."
"Just a bite."
Ren picked up a biscuit, turned toward him, and bopped it right onto Shinomi's forehead.
Shinomi blinked. "Was that supposed to be romantic?"
"It was very satisfying."
They shared a quiet chuckle, the kind that needed no audience. As the tea steeped, Ren poured two cups with slow precision, the aroma of dried rose petals and black leaves filling the room. Shinomi watched him in silence this time, his playful expression softening.
"You're good at this," Shinomi murmured.
"At what?" Ren asked, handing him a cup.
"This." Shinomi took the tea. "Being home."
The words caught Ren off guard. For a moment, he just sat there, fingers tightening around the edge of the tray. "I didn't think I could be someone's home."
"You're mine," Shinomi said, almost too easily.
Ren bit his lip, his heart drumming. "Stop saying things like that."
"Why?"
"Because I'll start believing you."
"I want you to."
There was a silence between them again—not awkward, but full. Full of meaning. Full of something gentle and terrifying all at once.
Shinomi took a sip and sighed. "Delicious. Almost worth the threat of being caught."
Ren raised a brow. "Almost?"
"Well…" Shinomi leaned in closer, smirking. "It'd be totally worth it if you fed me a biscuit with your mouth."
Ren froze. "What—?"
Before he could protest, Shinomi had already taken a small piece of biscuit in his lips and leaned forward, his eyes half-lidded and full of mischief.
"You're insane," Ren whispered, but he didn't back away.
Instead, he leaned in too—slowly, nervously—until their lips touched, soft and warm, the biscuit between them crumbling at the edges. Shinomi deepened the kiss just slightly, enough to steal not just the biscuit but Ren's breath along with it.
When they pulled apart, Ren looked dazed. "That was… unnecessary."
"That was breakfast dessert."
"You're shameless."
"I'm yours."
Ren didn't respond. He didn't have to. His face was red, his lips curved in a shy smile, and his shoulder leaned just a little closer into Shinomi's chest.
And for the first time, he realized—he didn't mind being someone's home.
Not when that someone looked at him like he was the only thing in the world worth protecting.
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