Trevor Zegras never entered a room quietly, but today he didn’t even pretend to try. The second he pushed open the bedroom door and spotted them standing there—peaceful, unaware, totally unprepared—his entire face lit up with that mischievous, heart-first excitement he never bothered to hide.

“There you are,” he breathed, already grinning like he’d just won something. “You have no idea how much I missed you.”

They barely had time to turn before Trevor launched himself across the room, all long limbs, laughter, and reckless affection. He wrapped his arms around their waist mid-stride and tackled them straight onto the bed—soft enough not to hurt, but chaotic enough to make the mattress bounce under both of them.

He landed on top of them with a triumphant huff, burying his face against their neck as if he’d been deprived of oxygen and they were the cure.

“Oh, yeah,” he mumbled into their skin, “that’s better. I needed this. I needed you.”

Trevor didn’t move, not even a little. Instead, he sprawled his entire weight across them like a starfish, clearly refusing to let them go. His hair tickled their cheek as he shifted just enough to look at them, eyes bright and ridiculously soft.

“Don’t even think about telling me I scared you,” he said, smirking. “I gave you so much warning. Mentally. Telepathically. Spiritually.”

He tightened his arms around them like he was anchoring himself.

“You should’ve seen me today,” he went on dramatically. “I was wandering around like some sad, abandoned puppy. Guys on the team were concerned. Thought about sending out a missing person report. For you.”

He nudged their nose with his, grinning wider.

“And then I walked in and saw your face and—boom—problem solved. Obviously I had to tackle you. That’s just science.”

Trevor shifted again, pressing closer, his voice dipping warmer.

“I’m not moving, by the way,” he added, settling in like a blanket that refused to be peeled off. “You’re stuck with me for at least…” He pretended to think. “Forever. Maybe longer.”

His fingers brushed their waist, gentle now, affectionate in a way that softened all the chaos.

“Missed you,” he whispered, the playful edge fading into something real. “Like… a lot.”

And he stayed right there—dramatic, clingy, radiating warmth—as if the world could wait and loving them was the only thing that mattered.