Everything seemed normal

Everything seemed normal.

Tatsumi sat behind his desk, calculating the amount of paperwork he'd completed within the last twenty minutes to determine exactly how many reports he'd have to do within each five minute window to complete his work thoroughly by 9pm. He liked to factor in distractions, Tsuzuki, namely being the most costly to his productivity.

What he did not factor in, was the minute his mind wandered when he filed a particular report in the corner of his office. On top of the filing cabinet laid a leather-bound agenda book Watari had given him for his birthday about half a year ago.

Tatsumi had tried using it for a week, but found the change to be unsettling from his regular agenda. Not to mention the fond thoughts he got when he touched the leather binding.
He instantly saw bouncing golden hair and that I-am-too-chipper-to-be-human smile. None of these things helped him schedule anything any better or record his daily goals.

So there it sat on top of the cabinet, neatly tucked away under mounds of books.

Watari was courteous enough to give him the present after everyone had left his two hour and twenty-three minute long party.

Tatsumi was grateful. He enjoyed the little amount of attention, even if he could not express it as eloquently as he felt it.

It was just like Watari, too, to go out his way to make people feel special, happy.
On the other hand, Tatsumi shied away from such affiliation with others. He did not want to be associated as a likable guy. It made his job much easier by detaching himself from particularly trying cases, and it especially helped when it involved his own coworkers.

The only coworker that has ever left him the least bit distraught was Tsuzuki. The man held so much inside. Moreover, Tatsumi was unwilling to dive deeply with him to discover it. He couldn't bear his tearful face every time something tragic had happened, or was remembered.

It cut too deeply.

It hurt him as much, and Tatsumi didn't want to feel that haunting pain, he wanted to vanquish it. But try as he might, his strength never won out against the evils in Tsuzuki's heart. That is when the cold stone approach presented itself, and became the best investment the secretary had ever made.

Tatsumi glanced again at the agenda. The fine burnings in the leather were strangely personal, and caused the tightly pursed lips to smile now and again.

Tatsumi blinked himself back to work; he looked down at the paper before him and took to signing it.

Another twenty minutes passed, and Tatsumi evaluated it with the last. There was notably a difference in work ethic. Tatsumi cursed himself and felt if he double-timed it through the next twenty he could slow down again to a more reasonable pace.

The leather book had sat there almost the entire past six months unnoticed. It unnerved the shadow master as to why today it seemed to glow with importance.

Just then, the door bust open with an exuberant "Ohayo!" followed by flowing, blonde hair and seeping glasses.

"What is it Watari-san?"
Watari's smile reached a max point then fell completely to a strangely serious face.

Watari then checked his watch and looked back at his boss.

Tatsumi evaluated his expression and too, checked the time.

11:00 a.m. on a Tuesday, it was just before Watari's lunch break at 11:30. It was his weekly barge in, and talk shop day.

"Excuse me, it's been a strange day." Tatsumi said, obviously shaken by his lack of focus.

"And you usual have tea ready for me. Anything wrong?" Watari asked, leaning on the red oak desk.

"Please get off my desk, Watari-san. And no, nothing is wrong. I apologize for the missing tea. I'll give you two cups next week." Tatsumi forced a smile for barely a second before lapsing back to his deadpan stare.

"I have some goodies this week!" Again, he leaned on the desk.

Glare.

Ignore.

"A brand new gel electrophoresis machine with... pause an ordered pair scanner! Therefore, I can do PCR scans. It would save postage for sending it out to the main labs! Plus while were not on cases I can see if any nearby departments need anything done for them, with a charge of course! And I'll take care of all the extra projects, and that'll be money back into your hand." Watari ended his infomercial with a characteristic wink and smile combo.

"Judging by your extra efforts to make sure the cost is covered, I'm guessing this piece of equipment is on the more expensive side of your budget."

"500,000 Yen, straight up. But that comes with the DNA dye that's usually sold separately and that alone is quite costly."

"Alright."

Blink.

"What?"

"All right. You can have it."

Tatsumi saw that Watari still couldn't comprehend the latest exchange. Tatsumi always denied him.

Always.

Like Tatsumi said, it had been a strange day.

Watari's reaction finally met the situation and his eyes stretched to the top of his scalp in pure happiness. His arms were the next to hit the neural response as they flung open and tightly embraced the secretary from across the desk.

"Thank you!!" Watari said sincerely, despite his ridiculous display.
Tatsumi indulged him and instead of taking it stiffly, he raised a hand to pat his back. Inversely this caused the latching to increase in pressure and the duration of it to last longer than he expected.

"Watari." Tatsumi warned, smiling when the scientist finally retracted and straightened his already battered lab coat.

Tatsumi wrinkled his nose at the thought of the various chemicals that he could've been covered in at that very moment.

Watari's excitement made him beam with more life than Tatsumi had ever seen. He couldn't fathom how this man's death had made him into the most easily amused person in the afterlife realm.

Tatsumi felt a smile at that thought. He truly did admire his natural draw to happiness that most shinigami lacked after their passing over.

Watari grabbed his papers and felt the overstaying welcome pushing him out the door. Before he got there, Tatsumi called him back.

Watari glanced over his shoulder, tilting his head in question until he saw the raised pen in Tatsumi's hand.

"Yes yes! Of course"

Tatsumi watched, amused, as Watari shuffled his budget report around, trying to find the authorizing line at the bottom of one of the pages. Excitingly he turned it around and pointed like no tomorrow at the blank line.

Tatsumi's careful signature filled the space. He thought he heard a delightful noise from across the desk, but he wasn't sure without looking.

Watari was out the door in seconds, shouting thank yous over and over again.

The entire office, outside of the secretary's, had to be wondering about the gleeful exit to the normally not so gleeful office.

Tatsumi smiled, it felt good to give the man a break every now and then. After all he's done for the department he surely deserved it.

"Damnit."

Watari was the only man who could bother him and keep him distracted from his current workload.

Tatsumi looked at his watched, calculated the time he was missing and added on the appropriate reports that would have to be finished. It seemed humanly impossible, and if it came to it, Tatsumi assumed he would be working late.

Again.

Tatsumi filed right through his lunch break, partially caught up from the 11 o'clock intrusion.

Now it was almost one, time for the daily collection.

Tatsumi for the first couple of years of being secretary had an inbox.

It was simple. You finished a report, paperwork, or what else needed to be archived and dropped it off at the nice blue bin that said Inbox. Easy. But when you're the most feared man in the office it can be sometimes difficult for the workers to actually walk down the skinny menacing hallway to Tatsumi's office.

Hence the collection.

It was much more profitable to give a set time of when said feared man was to be in your area, looking for such a report. At least for that half hour before 1, Tatsumi was given the satisfaction of knowing that most of his employees were busting their asses to have something to give him, or else, more paperwork for said individual.

The only two that this process never worked for was Tsuzuki, and Watari.

Watari, oddly enough was strangely efficient. Every morning between 8 am and 3 pm Watari would drop by his report. It was fascinating to Tatsumi, who has never actually witnessed the drop off. But by 3, its always there, neatly organized and thoroughly assessed. Every now and then a personal post it would hold a different image or phrase. One day it was a smiley face, the other it was a quote from a particular play, or sometimes it would just say, "I hope your having a good day." It was always thoughtful, and no matter how much Tatsumi tried to fight it, it made him smile.

Tatsumi checked his inbox first, hoping there would be at least one or two starter files to wave at the subordinate workers he had below him.

Hisoka, when not bothered by his partner every five minutes sometimes got a report or two into him, and today, it seem Tsuzuki was being strangely nice.

Tatsumi lifted the report and made his way to the south end of the offices. He'd work from there, traveling down the corridors in a counterclockwise fashion. And when the Gushoshin weren't ready with them in their office, he could bet they'd be in the library trying to squeeze in extra details. They were overachievers, however, so he particularly looked forward to their extra comments on cases.

Tatsumi passed the elevator leading to the first floor, and Watari's lab. No use in even going if the report was bound to hit his inbox by 3. He lingered however, feeling a need to check up on him, something he'd have to do later in the day if he ever truly got around to it.

At the next desk, Terazuma sat buried in his work with about three cups of coffee placed in the spots that did not hold unruly bits of paper.

His pointed ears flexed a bit, turning upward at Tatsumi's approach. His hand darted out, grabbing a small stack of papers and lifted them in the air. Most had the same reaction when the secretary came prowling about at 1 pm. As long as they had the report in front of his face and away from theirs, they were safe. Most caught on, but there were some that infuriated him every day, and it was his ultimate endeavor to have every worker submit to his way of running things.
Wakaba did the same, almost in tandem, much to Tatsumi's delight. With both reports in hand, he moved on.

The next two always proved to be slightly difficult.

Yuma and Saya liked to switch reports and do an almost entire performance before relinquishing them into Tatsumi's hands.

They horded him in a very humble way, bringing him coffee and tea, one in each hand, then sitting him down in the most comfy computer chair they had. Some days they tied little ribbons to the chair for extra flare.

Tatsumi was glad today, was not one of those days.

However, they were arguing in a pitch that was very deadly to a man's ear. Tatsumi winced as he approached, trying to keep their girlish squeals from affecting him. If there was a threshold of pain for frequency, they have undoubtedly found it.

They hushed down when Tatsumi approached, smiling widely in a very strange and awkward way.

"I knew you were a sweetie!!" Yuma busted out as he took one report from Saya's hand.

"Excuse me?"

"Giving Watari that budget break, he was beaming about it all day. I knew you weren't ALL evil!" She stood and proceeded to latch her arms around Tatsumi's waist.

"Ah, do not expect it to happen too often. But... your report ... please?"

Yuma gave a sideways look and her expression fell slightly along with her body. She faked a faint, forcing Tatsumi to hold her upright.

Tatsumi rolled his eyes and dropped her, turned on heel and walked away. They were not optimizing his time efficiently so the only option he had was to leave.

And leave he did, much to Yuma's delight.

"I knew it'd work!" She said, glancing at the neglected file to her left.

Tatsumi made his way back to the main cluster of offices. Here he would try to wrangle a report from Tsuzuki, which was proving to be quite difficult. Tsuzuki lacked the ability to speak, there was too much pastry attached to his tongue. Hisoka took the lead, trying to decipher the emotions his partner had in attempt to convey something similar without sounding completely retarded as Tsuzuki usually did.

The intention was intelligent, just not the presentation.

Tatsumi rather liked having the translation. However, it always seemed to end the same. Hisoka promised to get Tsuzuki to work on it which usually resulted in a duo-handwritten report that was half legible. Guess who did the better half.

The hour of power ended with a dozen or so reports neatly stacked in his inbox, exactly where the should've been.

Tatsumi checked the time, recalculated his workload and picked up his pen.

A blue flash caught his eye.

Tatsumi glanced over his glasses at his computer, which held a, "1 new message" icon blinking incessantly.

The secretary sighed, knowing the blue flash would annoy him lest he read it.

The screen popped up, and the first thing Tatsumi observed was the abundant use of the exclamation marks throughout the message.

Watari.

No one else could skip the period key that often.

To:
From:
Subject: To the greatest man alive!!

! Tatsumi!! You do not know how happy you've made me!! I didn't even know you remembered!! no ones remembered! I know you hate birthday's so I'm glad we can leave the subtle gift as that, subtle- No one will know!! I promise!
Thank you thank you thankyou!

Yours,

Watari

P.s. Don't work too hard today!

So it was his birthday… Tatsumi recalled the events and it all seemed to fit. After all, it was not the first time he has granted Watari additional funds on a project. Yes, it did not happen often but it was not so far out of the field of normalcy to cause this much attention.

No one ever remembered? Tatsumi doubted that. Surely there has been a company party for Watari before. Tatsumi would be an unlikely person to invite, so he assumed they were particularly defiant of company policy the night of Watari's party. After all, that energy had to go somewhere when unleashed. There was no doubt there would be alcohol and treats galore, women maybe. But then, Watari was a giver. He never seemed to receive gifts all that well.

Maybe he just was not given them as often.

Tatsumi finally found a spot in his memory that made his worrying vanish. Four years ago they gathered for Watari, that had to have been a birthday. Right?

But it was fall when Tatsumi's memory was triggered, and it definitely was a long ways from fall.

At least five months off to be exact.

Tatsumi's mind kept jumping circles around the idea. Should he do something? Watari was always good at finding peoples interests and catering to them. Tatsumi had no idea what he'd even attempt to do for Watari's birthday. Should he be private about it or let others know? Maybe too much notice would be bad. It was hard to judge.

Tatsumi shook his head indignantly; he had to do these reports. He hated having extra work towards the weekend.

With the monitor clicked off he was finally able to concentrate.

Exactly at five his ordered supper arrived, followed by Tsuzuki staring directly at the bag.

"'zuki...Work.. now... this is mine." The grumbling demon turned, his fluffy puppy ears sagging as he went.
Tatsumi shook his head, picking up the last fifth of his work and began organizing it by priority.

Even if he didn't finish them all, he'd at least feel good about getting the top workloads turned in the day he wanted.

It was seven now, four more to go. Tatsumi glanced at them, happy with his decision to leave the more complex files at the top and already out of the way. These couple last only needed signatures after the quick look through.

Tatsumi closed the last one with a great sigh, looked at his watch and slung his suit coat over his left arm. Last one out, like always. Tatsumi turned off all the lights, neglected computers around the office, and found the elevator at the back of the room.

On his way out, he caught sight of particular shadows reflecting down the east hallway. Shadows meant light, light meant life. Watari was still here.

Tatsumi curiously toed to the lab's entrance. He didn't bother knocking and slide the door open. The lab looked empty. Tatsumi grumbled something about the electrical bill and flipped the switch.

"Hey!!" A yelp called out, scaring the shadow master into reversing his action quite quickly.

"Gomen, Watari-san, I thought you'd left the light on."

"And be chewed out about the electric bill, no thanks!" Tatsumi smiled, Watari always did accommodate to his little quirks.

Tatsumi stalked through the rows of tables and gurneys used as tables.

"What are..." Tatsumi looked over his shoulder, noting the complete after-authorization paperwork

for the items Tatsumi had written off this morning in his weekly budget.

Every measure had been taken, every form in order, tagged and ready to be shipped out. Tatsumi's hand slid under the flap of Watari's collar as he leaned over the scientist to get a better look at the document.

"It looks like your toy should get here pretty quickly." Tatsumi glanced at the notebook by the papers, calculations sat there detailing the amount of extra work Watari would have to do to pay off the device through all the side jobs he talked about.

Tatsumi hated to admit it, but Watari was very work serious when he wanted to be. And when he was, the work he did was extraordinarily thorough and complete.

Without realizing it, he almost let out a small noise of appreciation when he saw the different colored pens used to differentiate between costs. Red for the expense, blue for the budget.

Tatsumi was in financing heaven looking at the scientist's reports.

Watari looked up at him when Tatsumi's thumb slipped under his coat collar and became particularly heavy against his back. He wasn't sure what the think when the secretary leaned in, pushing until Watari's back was flush with Tatsumi's chest and lower body.

"You even called out to the company." Tatsumi said, stretching further to pick up the call notice

slip, his voice slightly airy and low.

"I also talked with the technician to send quotes on the inventory we're going to need in the future." Watari said, testing a small theory he had in the back of his mind. The hypothesis he was testing became an "If I talk financing, then Tatsumi will get aroused."

Watari almost laughed at his ridiculous train of thought, but no sooner he spoke his last bit, the body behind him got warmer, the hand squeezed his shoulder slightly- and not out of encouraging boss to employee variety.

The scientist wasn't sure how far to take his inner experiment. How out of control could Tatsumi get? He's always been harmless.

Watari flipped through to the last signature place.

"Oh! How?" Tatsumi pressed his body closer to Watari's back, trying to read the inked signature under the blaring lab light.

It was.

It was the budget bureau that ran all of Meifu that covered the financing of the Ministry; from the budgets to the allocation of central funds, which meant an overall draw of money, keeping the maximum amount used from one set fund to a minimum.

The god of numbers, and his name scrawled out on the pretty, white page. Tatsumi felt his excitement grow. The amount of work Tatsumi had to do after the authorization paper was literally zero. He'd maybe have to oversee its shipping costs but that was about it. Watari himself neatly did everything else. Tatsumi nearly hugged him from behind; his body uncharacteristically slouched over the scientist's back, and his head nearly resting on Watari's shoulders.

Watari sensed an outcome, he did not expect it but he set the papers safely away in case it should occur.

Tatsumi's knee caught the plastic leg of Watari's desk chair, naturally swiveling it so the blond faced the secretary. Tatsumi noticed his closeness, but couldn't bring himself to back up or aid in any sort of distancing. Watari lowered his eyes, giving Tatsumi a permissible look that the shadow master took deep into his mind. He couldn't think about the look, he couldn't dwell to much on it or he would realize how irrational he was feeling. Strong hands reached forwards and curled under the scientist's lapel. Watari almost jumped up, directing his own domination and let

Tatsumi's body pin him to the desk. Tatsumi quickly flashed his eyes to the work of art stacked safely away.

Watari looked up at him, not really questioning but challenging the secretary in what he planned to do next. His lips were the next to follow his actions; his body crushed forward, smashing Watari's hips to the hard metal top of his desk. The moving hands on Tatsumi's back encouraged him to slide his hands under Watari's lab coat, shedding the white garment to the floor.

The kiss continued, harder and harder until there was pain from various places. One from the cutting edge of the metal desk and the other from the bruising force Tatsumi presented. Watari responded, his legs instinctively arced and spread, letting the majority of Tatsumi's body to fall in-between. The pressing lips left Watari's face, curving to his neck as strong hands kneaded under the black turtleneck.

Watari gasped, his legs curling around Tatsumi's waist. Only the desk and the other body held him up, but he trusted the position and let the secretary conduct.
Watari took his cues, kissing when permitted and pushed his tongue to follow the other that had just retreated from his mouth.

Tatsumi's hands pushed the turtleneck up, the fabric bunched uncomfortably just below the scientists chin. Watari's arms stuck straight up, letting the hands on his sides follow the muscles upward until the soft cotton was removed. Golden curls fell and bounced over bare skin.

Tatsumi's hands combed as deep into the yellow mass as he could, pulling out the orange tie ribbon as he went. Watari's glasses were the next to fall from his nose, as well as Tatsumi's; their faces came back together then, without obstruction and melded so deeply that one couldn't be told from the other.

Quick breaths between kisses became vital, sending condensed air throughout the room that

stuck to various beakers and test tubes. Frantic hands pulled at Tatsumi's tie, ripping it off his suit. Tatsumi bucked his hips, pressing Watari into the metal desk. He cried out, the hard surface dug deep and only served to heighten what Watari was already feeling.

Watari's hands pulled at Tatsumi's undershirt, un-tucking it from his pants. Deft fingers looped into his belt, pulling the plastic flap over and through the small metal stick. The buttons came next accompanied by a teasing push down on a stubborn zipper. Tatsumi's lips formed over the others left nipple and his hands supported Watari's back.

"Ah!" Watari called out, snaking demanding fingers in rich dark brown hair. He pulled the strands, trying to get the face closer to his body. Tatsumi couldn't get away if he tried. Lips searched upward, crashing down on an already bruised mouth.

Watari fought with him again, his tongue thrusting back and forth, sucking in air every fourth beat until they were breathless, holding one another. Watari moved his hands, feeling a dip in the energy. He didn't want to give Tatsumi a second to think, the moment he did, this could all end.

Fingers danced down Tatsumi's spine, further just above his waist. They turned, and both of Watari's hands rounded inward to lie flat on Tatsumi's torso.

His thumbs pet soft skin and his hand fell lower. The pants slipped off easily after a slight push.

Watari felt the sides of his thighs through the dark gray boxer-briefs.

Tatsumi's head dug downward into Watari's neck. And when he ghosted over his erection Tatsumi's mouth opened, his teeth digging into soft flesh.

Watari gasped, his fingers instinctively pressing harder. He curled his hand around what felt like the base and stoked upward. Tatsumi groaned this time, his face rotating in pleasure into the flowing blond locks of his co-worker.

One hand kept a steady rhythm on ever hardening skin and the other skimmed upward, cupping Tatsumi's jaw and lifted his head.

They shared another heated kiss.

Foregoing air Watari was able to whisper hoarsely into the secretary's ear.

"Seii.. in me..now." Tatsumi shifted, his eyes for the first time connecting with smoldering amber.

Watari gave him the most needing look, his body leaning back slightly, his legs parting even wider and a sparkle that whimpered, "Kudasai".

Tatsumi accepted the deal; a slight nod and a dip of his neck brought their lips together again. He

used the kiss, pushing Watari's back fully onto the desk. Tatsumi unbuckled Watari's belt, ripping the thin support from its loops. Tatsumi pulled down and Watari shifted until the slacks fell from his feet. Watari wore bright red boxers with black decal, a detail Tatsumi did not want to take time to memorize as the garment was quickly removed. Tatsumi pressed into him again, thrusting the dark gray cotton into Watari's naked, lower half.

Watari moaned, his pelvis unbearably stretched by his ever-spreading legs. Tatsumi was kissing him again, his lips, his neck, and his chest. Every place he touched, Watari leaned into it, twisted, contorted until he could feel the maximum amount of contact. Watari could not take it, he pushed back, almost sitting up, his body curling downward, his fingers under the waistband of his boxer-briefs and pushed down. Tatsumi in turn pushed forward, his length hitting Watari's inner thigh.
Their voices rose together with each dry thrust. Tatsumi did not want to stop his rhythm, and he also did not want to take him without some kind of aide. Watari kissed him again, stopping when

Tatsumi brought his hand up and into his mouth. Watari sucked on long fingers, wetting them sufficiently. Tatsumi watched as their kissing path was blocked for a second or two. Tatsumi let his wet hand travel naturally to his length, coating it from base to tip with Watari's saliva.

Tatsumi's blue eyes disappeared for a second, his eyelids failing to keep open. Logically they couldn't be hurt, no matter how hard Tatsumi took him, whatever damage was done would heal in a matter of seconds. But the pain in the moment was what Tatsumi wished to mask. But that look just grew with every waiting second. The amber eyes dripped with need and even a foreign, guiding hand tried to bring Tatsumi inside.

Tatsumi roamed his hands down the scientists shoulders, pressed harder over his chest until they locked at Watari's waist.

A thrust forward proved unsuccessful, the tip shifted from his opening, upwards only to slid along Watari's length.

Watari expected the pain, frustrated he darted his hand back down gripping Tatsumi firmly. Tatsumi bucked into his hand, following its guidance poorly. Watari's thumb swept over an eager head, its wetness growing on its own. With his palm, Watari spread more of the thick liquid over Tatsumi's hardness.

Watari pushed back onto him, hoping the extra cum helped. It did. The tip spread Watari open enough. Tatsumi hesitated but Watari felt ready and pushed back, calling out when more entered him then he expected.

Tatsumi took the lead and threw him back on the table, pushing deeply into him with a commanding force.

Watari's head curved backward, hitting the metal table as he screamed.
Tatsumi kept pushing, and his hands kept pulling. At one point, their bodies were completely flush together. Watari's arms were above his head and Tatsumi's face kept burrowing into Watari's ever dampening hair.

Friction and heat built up. Their pace frantically uneven in rhythm but consistent with what they needed. He pushed harder, deeper then shallower, pulled out almost completely only to dive back in. Watari did not know how to predict it. It was insanity, madness, and complete unadulterated need.

Nails scrapped Tatsumi's back every time he pushed completely in, Watari cried out scratching at any bit of skin he could reach.

The sharp scrapes only pushed the adrenaline, and now Tatsumi was on complete autopilot. He barely sensed the reaction from Watari and just kept thrusting harder, faster, deeper until the tingling started. And when that happened his pace went out of control. Every scream from the scientist brought him closer and closer. And now, Watari had started a similar ascend. His hips rocked back onto Tatsumi, trying to predict as best as he could when the secretary would plunge. Watari felt a great pressure on his hips; Tatsumi was crushing his pelvis from more than one direction. Complete madness broke loose, the timing of his hips almost double-timed as the rising emotion began to soar. Higher and higher. Watari could no longer feel individual thrusts; there was but a constant pressure that hit every mind numbing spot. Soon Tatsumi let a rumbling groan grow to a full out scream. He felt the orgasm sectioning off into spurts of pleasure, and at each, one Tatsumi slowed, thrusting fully as every ounce left his body.

Watari blacked out. His entire mind became static, and sound seemed to disappear. He could only hear his own breath, his own growl of pleasure and then... nothing. He was numb, spent, panting limply on the metal desk. Tatsumi's head dropped down to the curve of his partner's neck, inhaling the sweet smell of Watari's hair and after-sex scent.

Watari's mind came back into focus, and the first part of him to move, were his arms. He slung his limbs over Tatsumi's back and linked his fingers together, pulling him forward into some sort of hug.

Sweat made their chests stick together along with a generous amount of cum that was still sliding down Watari's softening arousal.

Watari parted his hands, one stayed at the small of Tatsumi's back and the other reached up, stroking through brown, sweat slick hair.

Tatsumi groaned; his body felt weak as he dropped his weight further onto Watari's form.
Watari flinched, the metal desk cutting off blood flow and dug into his skin.

"Ah!" Watari winced when Tatsumi shifted again.

"You okay?" The secretary asked extremely concerned.

"Desk... kinda... hurts." Watari got out; his breath was still far from normal.

Tatsumi lifted up, his hands on Watari's hips as he realized he was still deep inside of him.

Tatsumi slowly pulled out.

"Oh!" Watari called, not expecting the surge of feeling that pulsed below his stomach.

Tatsumi offered a hand to his guest, pulled him off the desk and looked about the room.

Both their eyes locked on the neatly compiled report on the side. They both seemed to sigh with relief that it wasn't damaged within their moment of passion.

Watari sensed the secretary's discomfort and took his hand.

"I have a sonic shower if you wish. It is technically only there if I somehow drench my body in deadly liquids. I guess I'll have to add Tatsumi to my list of dangerous liquids." Watari winked, pulling Tatsumi's arm to the high-powered shower that barely fit one person, let alone two.

Tatsumi was still dazed, and slumped against Watari's back as the high-pressure stream hit both of them. It was almost as though air and water had combined; it felt more or less like a vapor that seemed to pass through the skin. It was warm and relaxing. The sanitizing power bought a heavenly clean scent to both of their bodies; a scent Tatsumi was particularly fond of.

A slight buzz indicated the end of a cycle and the shower clicked off.

Watari reached into a close-by cabinet and pulled out two heavy, extra-durable towels. Watari ruffled Tatsumi's hair with it and then continued to soak up the little moisture that still clung to each of their bodies.

Tatsumi's unfocused eyes met Watari's. The scientist lifted a hand, cupped under the backside of his jaw and kissed him lightly.

"Stay with me?" Tatsumi asked in a voice too small for the older shinigami.

Watari nodded and left him for a second to grab all of their discarded clothing.

They teleported together to Tatsumi's bedroom. Watari threw the pile of clothes into a corner and watched Tatsumi pull back the covers. The secretary's long legs slipped under the comforter and his body shifted to line up with the pillows. He edged back a bit, flipping over a corner of the bedding.

Watari stalked closer, taking the corner offered, and slipped into the large, inviting bed. Tatsumi's arm fell across the scientist's waist. Watari sighed, snuggling closer until he could feel Tatusmi's hot breath against his neck through his billowing mass of golden hair.

A soft hum that strangely resembled 'the birthday song' escaped Watari's throat. He smiled with closed eyes. Tatsumi's arm tensed for a moment.

"Happy Birthday Yutaka." Tatsumi's mind reeled, and his body ached. For a moment, he zoned out on the reason, and then everything slammed back at him in full color.

He only wished the morning proved as fruitful as the night before.

Meanwhile back at the lab a particular sphere of feathers pressed firmly into a concrete corner trying to squawk away everything she had witnessed.

Unfortunately, this forced Watari to budget in Owl therapy for the next three weeks.