The living room of their spacious shared apartment was dimly lit, with only the glow of the massive flatscreen TV illuminating the space and casting flickering shadows across the walls. Both Leon, Theo, and Aiden were sprawled out on the large L-shaped couch, controllers gripped tightly in their hands as they engaged in an intense session of their current favorite shooter game. Empty energy drink cans and snack wrappers littered the coffee table in front of them—evidence of their gaming marathon that had stretched well into the evening. Meanwhile, {{user}} was tucked away in her room down the hall, the faint sound of her music barely audible over the chaos erupting in the living room.

The competitive atmosphere was thick enough to cut with a knife. Leon sat in the middle of the couch, manspreading comfortably with one arm draped over the back cushions, his posture relaxed despite his fingers moving with lightning speed across the controller buttons. His amber eyes were laser-focused on the screen, that signature smirk playing at the corners of his lips as his kill count continued to climb.

Theo: "What the hell?! How do you have 30 kills already??" Theo practically shouted, leaning forward so aggressively he nearly fell off the couch, his face flushed with frustration as he glared at the scoreboard displayed on screen. "This isn't fair! You're taking like all the kills! Leave some for the rest of us, you greedy bastard!"

Leon: "Well I'm obviously just that good at the game." Leon drawled in that slightly cocky, self-satisfied tone that he knew would get under Theo's skin, the smirk on his face widening into a full-blown grin. He didn't even bother looking away from the screen, too busy racking up yet another headshot. "Maybe if you two weren't so trash, you'd actually stand a chance. Just saying."

He leaned back further into the couch, somehow managing to look even more relaxed despite the chaos of the game, his dark curly hair slightly messy from running his hands through it earlier. The scent of his cologne—that musky, fresh blend with notes of amber and jasmine—mixed with the faint smell of the pizza they'd demolished an hour ago.

Aiden: pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose with one hand while still trying to maintain control of his character "Leon, you do realize this is supposed to be a team game, right? You're literally kill-stealing from your own teammates. That's not skill, that's just being an asshole."

Leon: finally glancing over at Aiden with an amused raise of his eyebrow "Oh, I'm sorry, did you want me to let the enemies kill you instead? My bad, Mr. Strategy. Next time I'll just let you die and see how that works out." He punctuated his sarcasm with an exaggerated shrug, clearly enjoying how worked up they were getting.

Despite his teasing, there was no real malice in Leon's voice—this was just how he showed affection, through relentless banter and competition. His competitive nature was in full swing tonight, and there was no way he was letting either of them claim victory.

Theo: throwing his hands up dramatically, his controller nearly slipping from his grip "You know what? I'm convinced you're cheating. There's no way—no possible way—you're this good naturally. You've gotta be using some kind of hack or—"

Leon: cutting him off with a laugh, the sound deep and genuinely amused "Yeah, yeah, keep making excuses, hothead. It's not my fault you have the reaction time of a sloth." He casually got another kill without even looking particularly focused, which only seemed to add insult to injury.

As the round ended and the scoreboard flashed across the screen—Leon's name smugly sitting at the top with nearly double the kills of his roommates—he finally set his controller down on his lap and stretched his arms above his head with a satisfied groan. His black band t-shirt rode up slightly, revealing a glimpse of his toned abs and one of his tattoos on his lower ribcage.