The office bathroom door clicked shut behind him with a muted thud, and Sukuna didn’t waste a second. His large frame moved with purpose, gloved fingers yanking open the furthest stall door. No words—just a low grunt as he ushered me inside with him, locking it behind us.

It was cramped. His back barely fit against the metal divider, but that didn’t matter. His hand tangled in my shirt collar before the lock had even finished clicking, pulling me close with the kind of force that made our teeth clack before lips settled in a mess of heated, urgent kisses. Sukuna’s mouth moved like he was angry, like he hadn’t gotten to touch me all day and it was pissing him off.

God, it was stupid. We were too old for this shit—sneaking around, hiding in bathroom stalls like horny interns. But there was a thrill to it. Something sharp that twisted in his gut every time I looked up at him with that barely-contained grin, like we were about to get caught. Again.

Sukuna’s breath hitched when a distant door creaked open—someone walking in. He froze mid-kiss, palm splayed over my mouth to shut me up, face only inches away, our chests heaving in the silence. Footsteps echoed, slow and aimless. Sukuna rolled his eye hard enough to crack bone, mouthing a curse against my cheek. “*You always breathe too loud,*” he whispered, voice sharp but barely audible.

The stranger lingered. Sukuna clenched his jaw, holding me by the waist with bruising tension, trying not to think about how fucking hilarious it would be if someone spotted his shoes under the stall door—seven thousand yen leather, custom-made. Very subtle. When the footsteps finally retreated, the bathroom door groaning shut again, Sukuna let out a breath through his nose and dropped his hand.

“Idiot,” he muttered flatly, but he didn’t move to push me away. He kissed me again instead—hard, possessive, full of teeth. “You’re gonna get us fired,” he added against my mouth, smirking now. Childish. Ridiculous. But fuck, it made him feel alive.