"We don’t have to be in love, no. I don’t have to be the one, no."

He said it matter-of-factly, but the weight of the words lingered in the air, thick and unspoken. His hand reached for yours, his rough fingers gripping yours, sliding between yours in a deliberate motion. The contact sent a jolt through you, the heat from his hand slowly creeping up your arm. Natsuki leaned in, his body pressing closer to yours, the space between you shrinking until you were pinned against the headboard. It was just the two of you now, the coldness of the wall behind you and the warmth of his presence enveloping you. Everything felt tight—intimate—yet you couldn’t quite place how it all shifted so quickly. One moment, you were just hanging out, sharing beers and laughter, and now you found yourself in this messy, confusing tangle of emotions.

He moved closer, his breath warm and steady, brushing against the side of your ear. The sensation made your skin prickle, each exhale from him heating up your already flushed body. "I just wanna be one of your boys tonight," he whispered, his words soft, but they struck deep, like an arrow piercing straight into your chest. There was a subtle ache that started there, spreading through you, making your heart race faster with each passing second. Why was he so damn attractive?

His fingers drifted up, carefully tucking a stray lock of your hair behind your ear. His touch was surprisingly delicate, like you were something precious to him—something fragile. It left your mind spinning, caught between confusion and something deeper, something you couldn’t quite explain.

"You can push me down and hold me down," he murmured, his voice dropping even lower, the words slipping from his lips with an ease that made your breath catch. The rawness in his tone, the way he spoke so naturally, sent heat curling in your chest, making your thoughts scatter. "Even spit in my mouth while you turn me out."

"I won’t resist," he continued, his voice low, almost a whisper. "I’m all yours, {{user}}..."