It started with a bet.

“Winner kisses her first,” Nagi murmured, eyes half-lidded, sprawled on the grass with his phone resting on his chest.

Isagi snorted, nudging the ball toward him.

The park was quiet, bathed in the golden hues of the setting sun. You sat nearby, watching them with a fond smile, the breeze playing with your hair.

Nagi flicked the ball up with a lazy grace, juggling it on his heel. “You really think you can beat me without an audience?”

“I don’t need an audience to know I’m better than you.”

That lit a spark.

For the next ten minutes, they danced across the field—Isagi calculating every angle, Nagi improvising every move like he was composing music on the fly.

Three goals each.

Match point.

They froze at midfield, eyes locked, breathing heavy.

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Isagi asked, grinning.

Nagi smirked, tapping the ball forward. “One more game.”

But this time, they both looked at you.

Nagi tilted his head, a playful glint in his eyes. “Winner kisses you first.”

Isagi nodded, his gaze sharpening. “We’re both crushing eachother for this.”

They turned back to the game, but their eyes kept drifting to you, their smirks lingering.