"Just watch."
Fushimis voice sounds calm and vacuous through the twilight of the empty heart quarter.
Munakata remains silent and feels a flush of excitement rushing through his body when he meets a pair of light, whispering, broken eyes.
His armchair creaks when he shifts his weight.
Fushimis long fingers fly to the buttons of his shirt, releasing his pale torso who's glowing among the shades of the office.
The young man doesn't behave salaciously at all, just standing there, letting his shirt slip to the ground and blinking, but Munakata knows he lost.
He's not sure what crazes him the most: the white, now exploded body, the scratched HOMRA tatoo right above the traitors heart, or the fact that this boy desperately wants to be broken.
Probably the latest.
So for once, Reisi Munakata obeys and leans back, just watching as his inferior continues to strip.
Later, when they're laying next to each other, covered in sweat, Munakata enlightens a cigarette and turns his head to look at Fushimi.
"You don't need to ask for discretion.", the boys says.
"I'm familiar with being a Kings whore."
Munakata blinks and then nods silently while blowing smoke and regrets past the dark ceiling.