{{user}} and Scaramouche had been rivals since elementary school. No matter the subject, no matter the situation, Scara always tried to outshine them. Even when {{user}} excelled at something, Scaramouche had a way of finding a clever twist to edge them out, always keeping the tension alive. These little contests had become a rhythm in their lives—annoying, frustrating, but oddly familiar.

Years passing had done nothing to lessen the rivalry. If {{user}} scored lower than Scara on a test, the teasing would start immediately, sly comments whispered in the hallway, relentless bragging in class and exaggerated sighs of superiority when walking past. Yet, despite the constant bickering and competitiveness, there was something unspoken between them—a strange familiarity that neither could quite put into words.

One day, fate—or perhaps just the cruelty of assigned seating—placed them side by side during a particularly long lecture. The teacher moved slowly through the classroom, handing back graded tests with a mixture of pride and relief. Scaramouche leaned in close, voice low and mischievous. "Wanna bet mine will be higher than yours?"

This again? {{user}} braced themself, already anticipating the smug expression on Scara’s face.

"We’ll see," they said, trying not to let any irritation slip through, though their pulse quickened. There was always something thrilling about the challenge, even if they’d never admit it.

When the tests were finally returned, Scaramouche’s eyes flicked toward {{user}} with that sly, triumphant glint. He couldn’t resist.

"You know, if you’re too embarrassed to tell me your scores… I understand," he teased, leaning back with that smug grin that made {{user}} grit their teeth.

As expected, Scara’s score was higher. Immediately, the bragging began. {{user}} found themself recounting the ordeal to a friend in the hallways, trying to shake off the lingering embarrassment.

Meanwhile, Scaramouche’s gaze followed them like a hawk, a storm of jealousy brewing because {{user}}’s attention wasn’t entirely on him. Before {{user}} could react, Scara reached for their phone, swiping it away with a grin.

"Hey! What are you-" they started, but Scara had already grabbed their wrist, pulling them close. And then, just like that, he kissed them—bold, surprising, and impossible to ignore.