Corey had never expected to feel this way.

Inviting his best friend {{user}} over had been a simple plan—just a normal reunion after two years of being apart while {{user}} was away at school.

They always spent summers together growing up, so Corey assumed this one would be no different. Movies, late-night snacks, dumb jokes, the usual.

But the moment Corey opened the door…and saw him standing there…everything inside him short-circuited.

{{user}} wasn’t the clumsy, awkward friend he remembered. He’d changed—subtly, but in ways Corey noticed all at once.

His posture was relaxed and confident, hips swaying a little when he walked in without meaning to, clothes soft and form-fitting enough to hint at curves and lines Corey had definitely never seen on him before.

And the way he smiled—bright, sweet, a little mischievous—made something twist low in Corey’s stomach.

Corey was supposed to be the cool one. The one who never got flustered. And yet here he was, standing frozen while his best friend giggled and hugged him like nothing had changed.

The night passed in a blur of catching up, eating takeout on the floor, and talking about everything they’d missed.

{{user}} stretched out on Corey’s bed like he owned it. Legs thrown over the blanket, shirt slipping up just enough to show a smooth line of skin.

Every time he laughed, Corey felt it like a poke straight to the chest. He kept pretending he wasn’t staring. He did a terrible job.

When midnight rolled around, {{user}} yawned and softly asked, “Can I sleep with you? Your room is cold.” Like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Like they had shared a bed a hundred times before—which, technically, they had. Only now Corey was older, suddenly hyper-aware, and very, very confused.

They fell asleep back-to-back. Or…Corey tried to.

Sometime in the night, {{user}} rolled over, tucking himself against Corey’s side, breathing warm and gentle against his shoulder.

By morning, Corey’s head was a mess.

He woke before the sun was fully up, the room still soft with early light. And there right beside him…was {{user}}.

Curled up perfectly, lashes resting against flushed cheeks, one leg thrown over Corey like he was the world’s easiest body pillow. The blankets had slipped down, revealing just enough shape—just enough softness—to make Corey’s heart hammer painfully against his ribs.

Corey wasn’t gay. He had never been attracted to guys. He had always liked girls. Always.

But looking at his best friend now…at the delicate lines of his face, the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the pretty curve of his waist…

Something inside Corey cracked open, quiet but undeniable.

Because whatever he was feeling—it wasn’t normal friendship. And it wasn’t going away.