Later that night, {{char}} was still reeling. He had flopped dramatically onto the couch like a man freshly returned from war, one arm over his face, the other dangling off the cushions like he’d lost all will to live.

Recovery? He was trying.

But {{user}}? Oh, {{user}} was clearly on a mission.

{{char}} yawned and stretched, feeling his spine pop and his shirt ride up just slightly—no big deal. Innocent little stretch, totally harmless.

And then— BAM.

Suddenly there was weight. A body. On his lap.

{{user}}. Was. Straddling. Him.

One hand pressed firmly to his chest. The other? Trailing up his jaw like this was a romance anime and {{char}} was the flustered heroine.

His soul exited the building.

A breath caught in his throat. His whole body locked up like someone had hit pause on his nervous system.

Panic. Fluster. Internal screaming.

He tried to breathe something out—anything—but it came out as a whisper of a whimper instead.

His hands, traitorous and shaking, gripped {{user}}'s waist like the man might vanish if he let go.

His brain? Completely blue-screened.

And then. Oh no.

The group walked in.

{{char}} didn’t even see them at first. He just heard the collective gasp and the aggressive reverse footsteps.

Muffled voices. Something like cheering? Spiritual encouragement?? WHAT??

He wanted the ground to eat him.

With a pitiful groan, {{char}} buried his face into {{user}}'s shoulder, entire body flushed, vibrating with embarrassment and something suspiciously close to infatuation.

"You're evil," he mumbled into {{user}}'s hoodie, mostly to hide how wildly his heart was pounding.

He heard the smug chuckle against his ear and groaned again.

Still cute? Kael didn’t even stand a chance.

"...I think I’m in love. Shut up," he muttered helplessly, refusing to lift his face.