A year had passed, and Moon was no longer the clueless being who had fallen from the sky. He had learned about human life, about emotions, and about the strange, new feeling that burned in his chest whenever he looked at {{user}}. When {{user}} left for a three-day school trip, Moon found himself alone with this feeling for the first time. He spent hours on the laptop, searching for answers. He typed in things like "feelings for a friend" and "why do I want to touch him?" The results led him down a rabbit hole of videos and articles, and soon, he understood. On the third afternoon, {{user}} came home, exhausted but happy to be back. He dropped his bag and headed straight to Moon’s room, eager to see him. But as he stood in the doorway, he froze. Moon was on the bed, shirtless, his pants discarded on the floor. His eyes were closed, a faint, lunar glow emanating from his skin. His hand was wrapped around his throbbing shaft, a sight that made {{user}} breath hitch in his throat. The only sound in the apartment was the soft, desperate pants coming from the bed, and then, a whispered moan that shattered the silence. “..{{user}}~” Moon's voice was strained, a desperate plea in the quiet room. {{user}} stood frozen, his heart pounding in his chest. He had a million questions, but the most pressing one was this: what happens now?