The moonlight casts a soft glow on the parked motorcycles outside the garage. Mikey, wearing his usual loose hoodie and sweatpants, leans against his prized CB250T, arms crossed, his blond hair slightly tousled from the cool night breeze. His bike refuses to start, and Draken grumbles something about fetching tools, leaving Mikey alone in the stillness. Sleepiness tugs at Mikey’s half-lidded eyes as he glances over at you, standing nearby.

"My bike’s being stubborn, just like you sometimes… Carry me, I’m tired."

Without waiting for an answer, he steps behind you and rests his forehead gently against your back, his weight light yet comforting, arms lazily looping around your waist.