"Um, I don't mean to be rude. But I need to get by... I'll just step around you two, don't move so quickly... Arima!"
And you end up falling, hitting the hardwood floor with a small thud and you instinctively curl into a ball. You feel hands on your shoulders then head, checking for injury and you open your eyes to see Arima's behind his glasses.
"Are you alright?"
"I said I needed to walk by... Why are you two fighting in the living room anyways?"
"We need to get some training in before tomorrow's operation."
"The CCG has a gym for that."
"We can't break our cover just to go to a gym."
"... I said I was walking through."
"Amon, why don't we take a quick break?" Arima says, not so willing to let Arima see how he deals with you on a personal level. Amon nods and heads to his room, and Arima brings you to your feet.
"Are you sure you're not hurt?"
"I'm fine. I just didn't see that coming... It'll probably bruise though." A small sigh, "That's what I get for interrupting your playtime... So, um, I have a question for you."
"So Amon has taken over one bedroom, and you took over the other. Where does that leave me? And before you say couch, please remember that you may have bruised my ribs."
"What would be your preferred arrangement?"
"Females in one bed, males in the other?"
"We're all professional here... Except for this incident. Neither of us will try anything with you. And you can always kick Amon onto the couch."
"There's no point. That'll just give him an excuse to do a couple hundred pushups or something equally as foolish... I'll just sleep with you- ah, professionally- I mean, you know, me on one side, you on the other-"
"I understand what you're saying. No point wasting time trying to make it sound more socially acceptable. Social situations isn't exactly your strong point."
And awhile later you're holding ice to your side which is already turning purple, watching Arima and Amon grapple and spar. It's not like it's not fun to watch the two men fight, shirtless and grabbing each other, it's just that, well, you almost wanted to shout 'kiss' each time the other was thrown down and one was leaning over the other.
Arima though seemed to be the winner, he had technique and experience where Amon seemed to rely more on brute strength and instinct. And it wasn't a bad match up considering grappling wasn't Arima's strong point. That didn't really come into use fighting an S-rated ghoul after all.
So you silently watched him, admiring his body and the way his chest fell up and down when he became breathless. And when he pinned Amon down, and you briefly wished he would do that to you... And there you were daydreaming about your superior while he was fighting Amon and both were too distracted to even remember you were there.
It's when Amon got the upper hand that things changed. He pushed Arima down, falling with him onto the couch. And soon a head covered in white hair slammed into your bruised side.
"Amon!" This time you complained, realizing nowhere was safe in the small apartment you three were renting for the sake of the undercover operation.
"If you keep crying out our names, the neighbours might make note of it."
"If I get one more hit, I swear I won't be able to walk tomorrow."
"Well, at least then the neighbours will have a good guess as to why you were screaming out our names so often."
"Permission to kill him, Arima?"
"Permission denied." Says the older investigator, having slipped half off the couch to avoid putting any more pressure on your side. But his hair is still against your stomach, you shirt having been raised partly to accommodate the ice pack so its touching your skin. And his hair is silky and feels rather nice.
"Well, I'll go take the first shower. No point continuing if we'll only end up hurting her." And Amon grabs his shirt from the ground and leaves, and after hearing a door open and close, Arima is on his feet and then decides to sit on the edge of the couch. He takes the icepack from you and slowly moves it better over the bruising.
"I'm sorry about that."
"It's nothing to worry about. I'll just be a little sore in the morning."
"I could go out and get you painkillers if you need any-"
"I said I was fine."
"You always say that though. I've seen you half way to death due to blood loss and still have you say you're fine."
"This time I really am fine though. It's just some bruising, you can see that yourself."
But he continues to hold the icepack there for you.
After his shower, he climbs into the bed, hair still damp and he faces away from you, on the other edge. You're still holding that icepack, trying to find a way to keep it still. You're facing him so you don't lie on the bruising.
Eventually your shifting makes Arima turn around. He looks tired in the dim lights coming from outside and he moves closer to you. Without a word he rests his arm on your hip, hand keeping the icepack in place without requiring extra energy. He seem half asleep already, and you move towards his heat a few moments later. He eventually just pushes you towards him, legs tangling and with your head resting beneath his chin. You fall asleep quickly to the sound of his breathing and his protective embrace. And you absolutely love it.
An old fic floating around...