Walk of Shame
Misaki winced as he tried to sneak out of the bed without waking Saruhiko. Part of him still wanted to yell ‘what the fuck?’ at himself, but the omega instincts that had led him to sleep with the enemy in the first place still felt smugly satisfied.
Saruhiko was sprawled under the covers, glasses off, scratches and bites littering his skin, looking as vulnerable as he ever had. Misaki had done that. He winced again.
He’d almost made it to the door when he heard that telltale scoff.
“Running away, Misaki?”
Misaki laughed. Yeah, no.0