My screaming bladder woke me up. Growling, I rolled from my back to my side and pinched the paw of my Lotso plush toy. That heavy thing had probably been lying on my stomach for my entire sleep and had innocently contributed to increasing my urge to urinate. Weighted stuffed animals were a good invention as a sleep aid, but quite counterproductive for a peaceful awakening.

I opened my eyes. It was already dawn outside and a look at my digital alarm clock on the bedside table confirmed my suspicion that it was just before eight. At best, I had slept for maybe five hours. Far too little for a hungover morning. Yawning, I rubbed the crumbs out of my eyes and laboriously moved my body into a sitting position. The pressure on my bladder was only increased. And shit, this sensation aroused me massively. DIDN'T HELP!

Moaning and grumbling, I threw back the blanket, slid my feet onto the rectangular carpet in front of my bed, and questioned all my life choices for a second, until I resolutely resisted the urge to simply ruin my mattress topper because it would mean I wouldn't have to stand up, and stumbled into the bathroom. With an eased bladder and stinging eyeballs, I looked at my reflection in the mirror. My hair resembled a torn bird's nest, but I felt it was pointless to tame it now. I had to be done in a few hours anyway and until then I wanted to try to sleep a little bit to counteract the redness in my eyes and the dark swelling underneath.

So, I shuffled back into the hallway, but paused at the sight of a strange, black winter jacket and wet shoes next to my Siberian hooker boots. I had completely forgotten that Kakashi was staying with me. Without further ado, I turned around, peeked into the living room and spotted my guest in almost the same position as a few hours ago: half on his stomach, his left arm under the pillow, his right one stretched far away from him, one leg bent inconveniently and with a similarly disheveled hairstyle as me. He breathed deeply and slowly, was probably still asleep. At least he didn't snore.

As I watched his calm face, memories of the night's events flooded my consciousness and I briefly wondered whether it had all just been a very horny dream, until I spotted a slight red shadow on his pale skin under the corner of the blanket and the slightly pulled-up fabric of his T-shirt above the sacrum. Wow, I had been really rough with him. Apparently, Kakashi was a bit of a masochist when he got hard from such treatment. I quietly banged my skull against the metal door frame. Eh, how stupid was I to provoke something like that? That it had even come to this – ok, happens in the heat of the moment. But did I really have to provoke him further? Oh well. Events occurred. And in the end, neither of us had been in any condition to act reasonably. Was the perfect excuse.

Because I didn't want to wake him up, I sneaked into my bedroom, pushed the door silently into the lock and snuggled back into my bed. With Lotso back on my upper body, I prepared to get at least one more hour of sleep, but out of nowhere a thought popped into my head that opened my eyelids. Today was Christmas Eve. Not spectacular in itself, but that meant that December 20 had been four days ago.

With a suddenly accelerated pulse, I took my cell phone off the bedside table, clamped one of my little Squishmallows under my head, turned off my alarm clock for nine because I knew I wouldn't find any rest now anyway, and opened the chat with Genma on Instagram.

{ Hey, wazzup, how are you? }

I didn't want to go like a bull at a gate, whether he had fallen in love spontaneously yesterday or not.

Somewhat disgruntled, I just realized that I had no contact details of Lee. On top of that, I hadn't even asked him his age. Two gross blunders on my part. Nevertheless, I tried my luck. I searched for "lee" in the app, of course I was shown tens of thousands of results. Yeah, that was stupid. I had to narrow it down.

Desperately, I went through my conversation with him, looking in my memories for any detail that could give me information about his . Ignoring a small fear that he might not have Instagram at all, I mentally combed through this evening in the bar and also the time in his loft – then it suddenly occurred to me! In a subordinate clause, he had mentioned that he competed in sparring under the stage name "Rock Lee".

Excitedly, I entered this name and truly found a profile that seemed to belong to him. There were many pictures of him at competitions, in the ring, but also more private ones, where he's sitting with a few friends in a karaoke bar or posing in front of the Eiffel Tower in Paris. His last post was a week ago, where he was standing at a Christmas market with a woman who resembles him a lot, probably his mother. At first, there was no sign of a love he had found, but it was his status that quickened my pulse. After some meaningless but pretty pictures of perfectly prepared and very healthy-looking food, there were some that obviously showed him at a party. They had all been taken last night and on the last of them you could see not only him and the same two friends like from the karaoke bar, but also a very pretty young woman with big brown eyes and a Mickey Mouse hairstyle that looked surprisingly good on her.

My gaze blurred a bit as I stared at the very last picture in his story. Lee smiled into the camera, his eyes glowing, and the woman kissed him on the cheek.

Well... It could still be a coincidence and she was just a good friend or his sister or whatever.

Lost in thought, I opened the last door of my Advent calendar and immediately shoved the mini-Santa into my mouth and chewed it roughly. I couldn't sit still. I finally needed certainty.

Although I didn't feel comfortable at all, I searched for Kurenai's profile. Asuma hadn't had an Instagram back then, and as long as he hadn't gotten one by now, she was my only chance to check the extent of my possible curse. I didn't necessarily want to write to her, for heaven's sake, but I didn't need to.

The very first post on their timeline, already pinned and with hundreds of likes and congratulations, had been created just an hour ago. It showed her – unusually tousled and obviously very tired, but beaming and beautiful, lying in a wide bed – and him – also quite unrested, equally happy, sitting next to her on the mattress – and wrapped in a pink blanket in her arms, with only a bright red potato with dark brown fluff peeking out, her newly hatched daughter. Below the picture was the text, \\ 12/24/2024, Mirai Sarutobi, now you are finally with us Your dad and I welcome our little angel into this world. Asuma, I love you. Like everyone, you have your faults, but together we will overcome every hurdle that awaits us. Thank you for being you /

Before the realization of what this meant could spread in my mind, my attention was drawn to an incoming message. I opened my chats again. Genma had written,

{ Hey.. }

No joke, no smiley? There was something cooking. I asked directly,

{ Do you want to try your luck at my orgasm again? }

He answered,

{ Such a challenge appeals to me, but unfortunately nothing'll come of it. }

{ Not because of you, you're great, but I met someone yesterday and I don't want to mess this up for once. }

{ Sorry, Anko, someone else will earn your medal eventually. }

Trembling, I typed,

{ Hey, it's all right, Genma! Good luck with her (or him) :3 }

{ It's a she, thank you :) And good luck to you in your search for your hero. }

I suppressed a loud cry. There I had it, the irrefutable truth. Two men, both of whom were the most unlikely candidates for a relationship, had met someone, and even if it was pure speculation, I was firmly convinced that Asuma had confessed his infidelity to Kurenai and she had forgiven him, which in my opinion could only imply that the two of them were destined for each other – because I'll be honest: I probably wouldn't have reacted that way, especially not with someone who didn't mean the world to me.

Well..

That was..

That.. COULDN'T BE TRUE! How the hell was such a thing even possible? How could I manipulate fate in such a way by spreading my thighs?!

All physical laws must and should speak against it. There was no such thing as magic or curses or whatever kind of snot in this world. This was reality, not some stupid fantasy novel.

And yet it had happened. Now I had the proof my brain needed. But it didn't bring me peace. My madness had been confirmed, but now? I was a walking jinx. Great. What should I do with this information now..?

My eyes met the red ballpoint pen and the colorful notebook that lay next to my alarm clock. Late on Friday afternoon, after I had gotten ready for my date and, as always, had finished much too early, I had studied the entries of my past lovers and indulged in quite unhappy memories. As if in an automated trance, I picked up both, opened the first unlabeled page, mentioned, commented and rated Genma and Lee – then, out of sheer desperation, I chased the pen lengthwise over each page of the book and threw both into my stuffed animals, which were leaning against the wall and now watched me as I slashed and kicked around silently screaming like a sicko in the padded cell. In my rage, I punched Lotso, threw Moira the sheep across the room and buried my hands in my hairline. I whimpered in agony and pounded the heel of my hand against my temple.

Breathing heavily and still shaking with anger, I roughly adjusted the Squishmallow, brushed my hair out of my face, picked up my phone again, placed it on Lotso's nose and opened Tinder. If the universe wanted me to give up my body for love, then nothing should stop me now. Apparently I wasn't worth more than that anyway.

I swiped each guy to the right, didn't even look at their profiles. Usually I was picky when it came to my men. Even if it was only for sex, I didn't want to put out for everyone. I had always had this amount of respect for myself. But now I didn't care about anything. I had been chosen as a whore who had nothing more to do than get laid.

Almost every swipe was also a match, which made this procedure much more time-consuming than necessary, as I had to constantly click away this boozy animated popup. Each time, a deafness sank into my brain, which made a beep sound in my ears as the minutes passed. The growing tinnitus dampened any further thought, the miserable frustration in me that this world had just given me a moral slap of a special kind. True to the motto: You fuck around too much anyway, so at least you have a reason to do so now.

However, this buzzing in my skull almost ensured that I didn't notice a loud notification sound, followed by a startled "FUCK!", which could be heard muffled behind my bedroom door. I was taken aback. With my eyebrows drawn together, I clicked on the speech bubble icon at the bottom and scrolled through the now well-filled list of my matches. I stopped at a profile picture with a red dot – a sign that it was a new available contact. Those dark puppy eyes, the mischievous smile and those silvery-gray tousled hairs I recognized immediately.

Kakashi Hatake, my not anymore most hated Office-Mare, that very Kakashi, who was just one room away on my sofa bed, had swiped me on Tinder. Why?

Curious, I looked at the profile of "Kakashi, 35". The pictures were quite good, even if I had to admit that he didn't seem to be too photogenic, because he looked better in real life.

I paused. Did I seriously just think that Kakahsi was good-looking..? I mean, yeah, he wasn't ugly, don't get me wrong. He had good cheekbones and nice lips and full hair and a nice eye color and his nose fit his face really well and everything.. So... He wasn't ugly, that's what I was trying to say. But I would never really have described him as "good-looking". He just wasn't my type. I didn't like bright hair, I never did. But he was unphotogenic, yes. Anyway.

In his bio it said, "UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES READ THE NEXT SENTENCE! You little rebel, I already like you." Kinda cute, at least not the same clichéd snot like countless random smileys or some corny "Let's uninstall this app together" or something. Creative.

He was looking for a long-term partner, was a fan of monogamy, less than a mile away, 5 ft 9 in tall, lived in Konoha, heterosexual, Virgo, had studied, didn't want children, was a bad texter, his love style was "touch", he was pet-free, drank alcohol on special occasions, did not smoke, exercised often, ate everything, was – as I had already asked personally – an early bird, had an interest in ice hockey, camping, jogging, karaoke and cooking, he liked to dance when going out, dressed down, arrived fashionably late and was polite enough to say bye first, preferred to socialize on weekends, had fun nights out and did a little self-care on Sundays, replied quickly, preferred to receive phone calls, his smartphone was always fully charged and he had chosen as his favorite song: Voulez-Vous by ABBA – I could have guessed guessed that.

Fascinating. With this profile, I had learned much more about him than he had revealed to me so far in the two years of we had been colleagues. But it didn't answer the one question I was asking myself: Why had he swiped me? Was he into me? But he had never shown any interest in me – I would have refused any approach anyway. Because despite my unbridled past, I had always stuck to one rule, and that was that I kept my hands off coworkers. Sex tended to complicate things and my work was more important to me than physical satisfaction. If I had ever given a shit about that, Kakashi honestly wouldn't be my first choice in the four jobs I had had so far, because, as I said, he wasn't ugly, but he just wasn't my type.

Motionless, I stared at his first picture, in which he is dressed in a black suit with vest, midnight blue button-up and shimmering anthracite tie, standing on a gravel bed in front of a white building, his hands casually buried in his trouser pockets, his hair wildly disheveled as always, and smiling wryly into the camera. I had only seen him in comfortable everyday clothes, but I had to admit that this posh threads looked great on him. What's more, the photo gave the impression that it had been taken by a professional who knew how to present a person in a good light, because at least in this one he looked the most like the real him. So.. Well, not ugly. My thoughts drifted off, lost somewhat in this face that I'd had to endure almost every day for more than two years.

'Voulez-voooouuuus, ah-ha, take it now or leave it, ah-ha, now is all we get, ah-ha, nothing promised, no regrets, dadamdadam-didididi, voulez..–'

My phone pinged, therefore interrupted my ear worm. A new message on Tinder. I almost expected, yeah, maybe hoped, that one of the other men had written to me, but it was Kakashi.

{ Good morning, Beanie.. }

How was I supposed to explain that to him now? He was lying on my couch after a night of drinking, tells me in a drunken state that he likes me, gets rock hard during a simple massage, which was admittedly totally random, and now we were a match on Tinder. What impression did that even make?! Now he must think I wanted something from him, although that wasn't even the case. But telling him that I only swiped him because I was frustrated and desperate was a bit mean. Shit. I shouldn't have blindly followed my anger. Nevertheless. I had turned up the volume, now I had to face the music.

{ Mornin.. Did I wake you up? _ }

{ Actually, yes, I was just dreaming so beautifully about Gai.. }

{ Uhlala, there must have been a spark between you yesterday or rather today, huh~? }

{ I just can't defend myself against his body :] }

I wondered if Kakashi would address his dilemma from yesterday, but there was a brief silence in the chat until Kakashi made an obvious attempt to continue ignoring the fact that we were a match.

{ How did you sleep? }

{ Too little, if I may believe my new nationality. And you? }

'Ain't no big decision, ah-ha..'

Heavens, I had never had such a dry conversation with him before, my brain even had enough surplus energy to recall lyrics. Well, otherwise we occasionally snapped at each other. Should I throw in an insult just to add a little more spice to the matter?

{ After a long time, I was finally able to sleep for more than an hour at a stretch. Your couch is amazingly comfortable, I wouldn't expect! }

Yep, spice was missing here, definitely.

{ Right words. If you had also insulted my couch now, I would have made time travel possible especially for you and just let you sleep outside as you deserved. }

{ :( Now you're being nasty to me again. What did I do to deserve this..? }

{ There is always something to be found with you. Did you puke? }

{ My stomach was itching just to see your shocked face, but I was able to control myself! }

{ Soiled my sheets...? }

Ok, did I seriously want to bring it up?!

{ Luckily no further damage has been done - }

Away from the topic!

{ Spilled water? }

{ Maybe a little.. v_v' }

{ AHA! I knew it. You can't be relied upon, typical of you. There you have it, that's why you deserve to die of frostbite. I'll get to work on my time machine right after I get up :[ }

Somehow.. I didn't know why, but somehow it felt different between us. When I read the messages, it sounded more like loving teasing. Did it always have that? Or was I simply not in shape?

{ What can I do to calm your mind..? }

{ Lick it up like the dirty mutt that you are. }

Ok, that sounded COMPLETELY wrong without the right emphasis! You could read it iffy, as I had actually thought, but you could just as well whisper it smoky. Great. This way he certainly came up with completely wrong ideas.

{ You already don't have anything to say to me in the office, Beanie, you're not my boss! }

Thank God, he had been able to interpret my pissed off tone. Then.. –

{ But in this case I will make an exception, I want to propitiate you ･･ Special requests on how and what exactly I should lick~? }

My head exploded. Of course, I had written kinky things with men before, by God, sometimes just for fun or out of boredom, but with him..? He was lying next door! NEXT DOOR! I couldn't sit on my phone with greasy hair, unshaven legs and smoke as usual in such cases and heat up some random guy. This was Kakashi, my coworker, lying on my couch NEXT DOOR!

I was in deep trouble. I could tell him that yesterday had been an alcohol-related slip-up and the match was an accident, but then I later would have to look him in the eye and if I wanted to or even could do that.. humph. Or I could jump on it, but that would raise some hopes in him. Because shit, HE had gotten hard during MY massage! HE had swiped ME first, even BEFORE the Christmas party - unless of course he had done it in his sleep that night, which was highly unlikely. So something seemed to be going on inside him. And did I mention he was NEXT DOOR?! This wasn't just a sudden flare-up of flirtation in front of the coffee machine, where neither of us quite knew how this could happen. We were on a dating app that was there for the conversations to drift into such dimensions at some point. Ideas on his part were basically unavoidable, especially after such a night.

For Kakashi's taste I had probably taken too long for my answer, because he wrote,

{ Can I ask you something? }

'You know what to do, ah-ha..'

My brain apparently no longer wanted to be part of this conversation, but I still had to stay focused or it would slip away faster than I could think "ah-ha". Anxiously, I typed,

{ Sure }

{ Ok, so you didn't just fall asleep again :] }

{ What did you mean yesterday by "office mare"? }

{ That was today, you owl. }

Yeah, tease him, just don't go into the topic.

{ Everything before sleep is yesterday, doesn't matter, the fact is: You said it and I'd like to know what you meant by that. }

Hey, at least we agreed in our idea of how to name days. Midnight was nothing more than the universal term for 12 at night, it was not a day limit – in my opinion, otherwise my sleep and day pattern was non-existent. Sweet, we had one thing in common.

{ That's not so important.. }

{ Then you can tell me }

I groaned. If he really wanted to know.. Perhaps this would stifle any germinating ideas on his part.

{ That's my name for the three of you }

{ Whom? }

{ Izumo, Kotetsu, and you }

{ Why "mare" of all things? }

{ Think about it, Hatake, you're so clever – at least that's what you always say }

{ Read between my lines! }

{ Okay, I'll try as far as my hangover will let me. My first thought: You call us mares because we don't have cocks. }

{ You're a fine mutt, getcha delicious cookie later! }

{ I can't speak for the two airheads, but I definitely have a cock, as you may have noticed yesterday =3= }

I deliberately ignored Kakashi's dashing back to the flirt.

{ Airheads..? Huh, that sounds like you don't like your besties at all. }

{ I can't indeed, but we have our offices right next to each other and are fans of the Seadogs, so they're the only ones I can talk to about hockey }

{ GO SEADOGS! }

{ ICE hockey, my goodness! }

{ Forgive me for this solecism ･ｪ･ }

Heavens, those smileys! Somehow I found that.. no idea, cute?

It became quiet between us again. And for a moment the hope flared up in me that we would leave it at that, he would leave right away, maybe I could catch up on some sleep, make my way to Oto later without any morning drama, we would not see each other again until the new year and by then everything was already forgotten. Yes. That would be perfect. Then I could secretly unmatch him and it would never have to be brought up again who had swiped whom and why.

But Kakashi, this miserable son of a bitch, asked exactly this question.

{ Why did you swipe me? }

I grimaced. Fuck, fuck, FUCK. Evasively, I wrote back,

{ I could ask you the same thing.. }

{ Well, you should see in my profile that I'm not looking for anything serious. And you want a relationship, soooo }

{ And you saw that I wanted a relationship and still swiped right, even though you're not looking for anything serious. ･3･ }

Bastard. We were two people who pushed each other to the abyss with drawn weapons.

{ But you did first.. }

{ That's correct. }

{ Why? }

'La question c'est voulez-vous..' HELLOO?! I needed that energy!

Kakashi didn't answer at first and again a scenario played out in my naïve head in which everything would end well, but then his message popped up.

{ Because I think you're foxy }

There they were, four little letters that activated this thing in me again. It was an addiction. I wanted more, more of what I had felt back then, when I had been called that. It felt so good, was like a sweet drug. He could have used any adjective, I would have had something quick-witted to reply to, but "foxy" was my sexual Achilles' verse. I didn't know why, but that word did something to me. But I couldn't succumb to it, I had to stand firm.

{ You do? }

{ Yes }

What was I supposed to answer, what, good God, WHAT?!

{ Beanie, I have a suggestion: What do you think if I make a small detour to the bathroom and then come to you? }

I slapped my hand over my mouth. That was clear, no matter in which tone you read it. I would have loved to stop time, sit down in peace in front of a whiteboard and discuss the pros and cons of this action with myself. What ramifications and consequences awaited me, what advantage I derived from it, what it could mean for him and me – it all didn't matter. And it was my inability to say no in direct confrontation that sent my fingers over the keyboard.

{ Sounds good }

'VOULEZ-VOOOOOOUS'

NO! Panic overwhelmed me. I was absolutely stupid! But before I could take anything back or clarify this acceptance, I heard the soft patter of bare feet in the hallway and shortly afterwards the click of a door.

My heart skipped a beat. Kakashi was really on his way! Panting, I jumped out of bed and swept through my bedroom like a tornado. Carelessly, I stuffed my twelve plushies from the bed into the closet, tore off my old pajamas with the hearts and muffins on them and pulled out of the depths of some pile of laundry a simple, white oversize shirt that I took on instead.

FUCK! My legs and armpits were still reasonably hairless from epilating, there was at most a fluff, but my genital area clearly showed palpable and visible stubble in a not very inconspicuous dark brown. No no no... I was ALWAYS smooth during sex!

I pounced on my suitcase and rummaged around in it, but in vain. Sure, my toiletry bag with razor and hairbrush and deodorant and everything else was still on the windowsill in the bathroom, where Kakashi was certainly standing in front of the mirror and cleaning his feathers without hectic. I had already put only one pack of make-up remover wipes in the suitcase, because the other one didn't contain enough to last two days. At least something, so I could wipe sweat and lint from my vagina, ass crack and armpits. Smelled better now.

By the way!

Luckily, I kept my Mentos in the bedside table. I threw three of them down my throat, chewed them hastily and at the same time tried to tame my hair a bit. Lastly, I freed my lips from the morning mud and replaced it with a thin layer of Vaseline with extra vitamin D. Okay. I couldn't do more. I would have preferred an urgently needed shower including a full-body shave and corneal peeling, but that had to be enough now. I didn't have time anyway, because behind the closed door I heard footsteps again.

Conclusion: I reasonably fuckable, my room roughly freed from everything childish, my mind seemed to be absent anyway, good. With a small heart attack, my gaze fell on the colorful notebook that lay half buried under my duvet next to the pillow. I already heard a soft knocking and the metal creaking of the door handle. In a flash, I jumped on the bed, pushed the book and pen under the pillow and whirled around.

I was still panting softly, my pulse was not allowed to be measured for my own safety and it was also quite possible that there were telltale red spots on my cheeks, but I smiled uncertainly at Kakashi, who came in in his T-shirt and boxers, grinned at me just as hesitantly and closed the door behind him.