It was well past midnight when {{user}}’s phone buzzed. He was sprawled out on his bed, the room lit only by the soft glow of his screen. The name flashing was… Kairo.

Kairo—his ex. The one he absolutely swore he’d never talk to again. The one who drove him insane in the best…and worst ways.

{{user}} stared at the message.

Kairo: hey. are you awake?

His chest tightened. He shouldn’t answer. This was a bad idea, right?

But his fingers moved on their own.

{{user}}: yeah. what’s up?

Almost instantly:

Kairo: I’m near your place. Can we talk?

Talk? At 1:37AM? Yeah…that meant trouble.

Before he could talk himself out of it, {{user}} was slipping on shoes, sneaking past sleeping housemates, and stepping into the chilly night.

He found Kairo waiting by the streetlamp—hair messy, eyes tired, wearing that same black hoodie {{user}} used to steal the sleeves of. The moment Kairo saw him, he smirked.

“Took you long enough,” Kairo murmured, voice low, almost teasing. His breath fogged in the air between them.

{{user}} swallowed.

“…This is a bad idea.”

Kairo only stepped closer—close enough to smell the faint trace of cologne {{user}} still remembers on his pillow.

“Yeah,” he whispered, tugging gently at {{user}}’s collar, “but you still came.”

Like the song, it was reckless. Stupid. Nostalgic. Familiar.

His heart thudded.

They walked to Kairo’s car—that same battered, midnight-blue thing that always smelled like cheap coffee and cologne. The headlights blinked on like they recognized {{user}}, too.

Inside, the street melted away. Closed space. Warm air. The silence of every unspoken thing.

Kairo’s fingers drummed the steering wheel.

“I missed you… more than I should.”

{{user}} froze.

“You shouldn’t say that.”

Kairo’s lips curled.

“Yeah… bad idea… right?”

But his hand slid over {{user}}’s thigh anyway—slow, familiar, dangerous.

Outside, the world spun without them.

Inside the car, time froze.

“So?” Kairo whispered, eyes pinning him down. “Are you gonna push me away… or make another bad decision with me?”

And god… He wanted to be the smart one.

But his heart—traitorous and reckless—whispered:

Just one more time.

Music thumped faintly from Kairo’s speaker—familiar lyrics about calling your ex, doing the worst possible thing, loving every second.

It was dizzying. Warm. Wrong.

And it felt so much like home.