chapter 1-7

After Hours

A Nanami Kento x Male Reader Romance

Chapter 1: Overtime

The fluorescent lights of Jujutsu High's administrative wing hummed overhead as you sorted through mission reports, the stack seemingly endless. Most sorcerers had long since gone home, but here you were, still buried in paperwork at nearly 9 PM.

"You're still here."

The familiar baritone made you look up from your desk. Nanami Kento stood in the doorway, his usually pristine suit slightly wrinkled from the day's exertions, his spotted tie loosened just enough to reveal the hollow of his throat.

"Same could be said for you," you replied, setting down your pen. "Thought you were strictly against overtime."

A ghost of a smile crossed his lips. "I make exceptions." His eyes lingered on you for a moment longer than necessary. "For certain circumstances."

The air between you shifted, charged with something unspoken. It had been building for weeks—these late encounters, the way his gaze would find you during meetings, the brush of his fingers when he handed you files.

"You should go home," he said, but his feet carried him closer to your desk instead of toward the exit.

"So should you." You leaned back in your chair, studying his face. The harsh lighting cast shadows under his cheekbones, making his features even more striking. "Unless you have somewhere else you'd rather be?"

"I do, actually." He stopped just beside your chair, close enough that you could smell his cologne—something warm and cedar-like. "But it seems that person is determined to work himself to exhaustion."

Your breath caught. The implication hung between you like a live wire.

"Nanami..." you started, but he was already moving, his hand coming to rest on the back of your chair.

"Kento," he corrected softly. "When we're alone, call me Kento."

Chapter 2: Breaking Point

Three days later, you found yourself paired with Nanami for a mission in Shibuya. A simple curse investigation, or so the briefing had claimed. But as you pressed your back against the concrete wall of an abandoned office building, breathing hard from the chase, you realized nothing about this situation was simple.

"The curse is contained on the fifteenth floor," Nanami reported through the comm, his voice steady despite having just dispatched three lesser spirits. "But we're going to have to wait for backup."

"How long?" you asked, checking your watch. It was already past 6 PM—Nanami's sacred cutoff time.

"Could be hours."

You saw the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw clenched. This was his nightmare—being trapped in work mode when he should be off duty.

"I'm sorry," you said quietly. "I know how much you hate—"

"It's not about the time." He turned to face you fully, and something in his expression made your pulse quicken. "It's about being alone with you for hours, knowing I can't..."

He didn't finish the sentence, but he didn't need to. The want in his eyes said everything.

"Can't what?" you pressed, taking a step closer.

His control finally snapped. In one fluid motion, he had you pressed against the wall, his hands braced on either side of your head. "Can't stop thinking about touching you," he breathed against your ear, his voice rough with restraint. "Can't stop imagining what you'd sound like if I—"

"Kento." His name fell from your lips like a prayer, and it undid him completely.

His mouth found yours, hungry and desperate, all his careful composure crumbling. You kissed him back with equal fervor, your hands fisting in his tie to pull him closer. He tasted like coffee and something uniquely him, and you thought dimly that you could become addicted to this.

When you finally broke apart, both breathing hard, his forehead rested against yours.

"We should wait for backup," he murmured, but his hands were already working at the buttons of your shirt.

"They'll call if they need us," you replied, tugging his tie free completely.

Chapter 3: Unraveling

The curse was dealt with swiftly once backup arrived, but the tension between you and Nanami had only intensified. Back at the school, you found yourself unable to concentrate on anything but the memory of his hands on your skin, the sound he'd made when you'd kissed his neck.

You were so lost in thought that you didn't notice him enter your apartment until you heard the soft click of the door closing behind him.

"How did you—?"

"You gave me a key," he reminded you, though his smile was uncertain. "Last month, when you had that fever. If you want me to leave—"

"Don't." The word came out more forcefully than you'd intended. "Don't leave."

Relief flooded his features. He moved toward you slowly, deliberately, like he was approaching something fragile. "I've been thinking about today," he said, his voice low. "About what we started."

"And?"

"And I think we should finish it."

This time, when he kissed you, it was different—slower, more deliberate. His hands mapped the contours of your body with reverent attention, like he was memorizing every inch. When he pushed you gently toward the bedroom, you went willingly.

"Are you sure?" he asked, even as his fingers worked at the buttons of your shirt with practiced ease.

"I've never been more sure of anything," you breathed, and it was true. This thing between you had been building for so long that the release felt inevitable, necessary.

He made love to you with the same focused intensity he brought to everything else, learning exactly what made you gasp, what made you arch beneath him. By the time you collapsed together, sweat-slicked and breathless, the sun was beginning to rise.

"Stay," you whispered against his shoulder.

"I can't," he replied, but his arms tightened around you. "People will talk."

"Let them."

Chapter 4: Complications

But letting people talk proved easier said than done. The knowing looks from Gojo, the raised eyebrows from other faculty members—it all weighed on Nanami more than he let on. You could see it in the way he maintained careful distance during meetings, the way he avoided your eyes in the hallway.

It came to a head two weeks later when Principal Yaga called you both into his office.

"There have been... observations," Yaga began carefully, "about your partnership. Both professional and otherwise."

Nanami's expression went completely blank—his professional mask sliding into place. "Sir?"

"I'm not blind, Nanami. Nor am I a fool." Yaga's gaze moved between you both. "What you do in your personal time is your business. But when it affects your work..."

"It doesn't," you said firmly. "Our mission success rate—"

"Has improved significantly," Yaga finished, surprising you both. "Which is why I'm not forbidding this... whatever this is. But I am requiring disclosure. Official paperwork. HR compliance."

After you left the office, Nanami was quiet for a long time. Finally, as you walked toward the faculty parking lot, he spoke.

"This complicates things."

"It doesn't have to."

He stopped walking, turning to face you. "You don't understand. My entire life is built on structure, on rules. What we have... it's chaos."

"Sometimes chaos is good," you said, stepping closer. "Sometimes it's exactly what you need."

"Is it?" His voice was soft, uncertain in a way you'd never heard before. "Or am I just being selfish?"

You reached up to cup his face, thumb brushing across his cheekbone. "When have you ever been selfish, Kento? When have you ever done anything just because you wanted to?"

The question hung between you, and you saw the moment he realized the answer was 'never.'

Chapter 5: Surrender

That night, Nanami showed up at your door with takeout from your favorite restaurant and a bottle of wine.

"I filled out the paperwork," he said without preamble. "Submitted it to HR."

Your heart stuttered. "And?"

"And I realized something." He set the food on your kitchen counter, then turned to face you fully. "I've spent my entire adult life following rules, maintaining order. But with you... with you, I want to be selfish."

The confession hung in the air between you, raw and honest.

"I want this," he continued, stepping closer. "I want you. Not just for tonight, not just until it gets complicated. I want whatever this is, consequences be damned."

You kissed him then, pouring all your relief and joy into the contact. He responded immediately, his hands coming up to frame your face, and for the first time since this started, there was no hesitation, no holding back.

"The food will get cold," you murmured against his lips when he started walking you backward toward the bedroom.

"I don't care," he replied, and the freedom in his voice made your chest tight with emotion. "For the first time in my life, I genuinely don't care about the schedule."

He made love to you that night with a desperation that bordered on worship, like he was trying to prove something to both of you. Afterward, as you lay tangled together in the aftermath, he traced patterns on your chest with his fingertips.

"I never expected this," he said quietly. "This... feeling."

"What feeling?"

"Like I'm finally living instead of just existing."

Chapter 6: Breaking the Rules

Three months into your official relationship, Nanami started breaking his own rules with alarming frequency. He worked past 6 PM without complaint when it meant spending time with you. He took long lunches that turned into afternoon trysts in empty classrooms. He even—and this shocked everyone who knew him—started using his vacation days.

"You're a terrible influence," he told you one afternoon as you lay in his bed, sheets tangled around your waist, his head pillowed on your chest.

"Am I?" you asked, fingers combing through his hair. It was disheveled from your activities, sticking up at odd angles, and you loved seeing him this undone.

"Mmm." He pressed a kiss to your sternum. "I used to be so disciplined. Now I can barely focus during meetings because I'm thinking about this... about you."

"Poor baby," you teased, and he bit gently at your collarbone in retaliation.

"Careful," he warned, but there was no heat in it. "Or I'll show you exactly what I was thinking about during this morning's briefing."

"Is that a threat or a promise?"

Instead of answering, he proceeded to demonstrate, and by the time he was finished, you were both breathless and late for the afternoon training session.

"We can't keep doing this," he said, but even as the words left his mouth, he was pulling you back down for another kiss.

"Doing what? Being happy?"

He paused at that, searching your face. "Is that what this is? Happiness?"

"What else would it be?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "I've never felt anything like this before."

The vulnerability in his voice made your chest ache. You cupped his face, thumb tracing the line of his jaw. "That's what happiness feels like, Kento. When you stop living for everyone else and start living for yourself."

Chapter 7: After Hours

Six months later, you found yourself in the same administrative wing where this all began, but this time you weren't alone. Nanami sat across from you, working on his own stack of reports, his suit jacket draped over the back of his chair, sleeves rolled up to reveal his forearms.

"It's past six," you observed, not looking up from your paperwork.

"I know."

"Aren't you going to leave?"

"Are you?"

You glanced up to find him watching you with that same intense focus he brought to everything, but now it was tempered with something softer, something that belonged entirely to you.

"Maybe in a few minutes," you said, and his smile was warm enough to melt you.

"Good. Because I was thinking..." He stood, moving around the desk to perch on the edge beside you. "We could grab dinner after this. That new place you mentioned."

"Are you asking me on a date, Nanami Kento?"

"I'm asking my boyfriend on a date," he corrected, and the casual way he said it—like it was the most natural thing in the world—made your heart skip.

"Your boyfriend has a better idea," you said, reaching up to loosen his tie. "How about we skip dinner and go straight to dessert?"

His eyes darkened. "Here?"

"The building's empty. We've done worse things in better places."

"You really are a terrible influence," he murmured, but he was already leaning down to kiss you, his hands bracing on either side of your chair.

"The worst," you agreed against his lips.

Later, as you lay together on the small couch in his office, your clothes hastily rearranged, his fingers traced lazy patterns on your arm.

"I used to hate working late," he said quietly.

"And now?"

"Now I think some rules are worth breaking."

You tilted your head to look at him, taking in his mussed hair, his kiss-swollen lips, the contentment in his eyes. "All it took was the right motivation."

"No," he said, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. "All it took was you."

Outside, the city lights twinkled in the darkness, but inside this small office, wrapped in each other's arms, you had found something worth staying after hours for.

The End