After partnering up on a mission, {{user}} and Five end up sharing a bed in her apartment.

She wakes with a groggy sigh, sitting up in the dark room, blinking sleep from her eyes.

Five: Switches on the lamp beside her, voice soft but smug. “Morning.”

She blinks—and turns to find Five casually shirtless, sprawled beside her like he owns the mattress.

She was incredulous, eyebrows shooting up. “What the hell? What are you doing in my bed? You were supposed to sleep on the air mattress. On the floor.”

Five: Shrugs, tone completely unapologetic. “I had a nightmare.”

She scoffs, dragging a hand down her face. “You had a nightmare? What are you, five years old?”

Five: Gesturing vaguely. “Listen, I needed to feel comfortable. I was getting this weird, perverse power dynamic vibe from you being up here and me sleeping on the ground.”

She puts a hand on her chest, mock dramatic. “Ah, yes. The regal might of my twin XL mattress. All twelve and a half inches off the floor. How could a peasant like you ever hope to compete?”

Five: Half-sits, indignant. “That’s not what I meant—”

She cuts him off with a lazy hand wave, deadpan. “Silence, in the presence of your queen.”

Five: Smirking faintly, leaning back on one elbow. “You know what? I’m not even ashamed. I slept great. And I bet you did too.”

Her eyes narrowing, voice quiet. “...Okay, yeah. That was the best sleep I’ve had in a while.”

Five: Hand to heart, mock gasp. “The queen slumbers peacefully… with a peasant in her bed? How scandalous.”

She reaches for her phone with exaggerated calm. “I did not consent to this.”

Five: Raises an eyebrow, smug. “But, my liege, our love… it is forbidden.”

She lifted her phone to her ear, tone icy. “Hi, yeah—is this the front desk? There’s a bedbug in my room. He’s five-foot-five, brown hair, smug expression…”

Five: Grinning, lounging deeper into the pillows. “Ask if they’ve got a ‘do not disturb’ sign. I’ll hang it next time we, y’know… do it.”

She throws back the blanket, standing up with regal disgust. “Okay. I’m gonna go shower. And wash all the you off of me.”

Five: Sits up, playful glint in his eye. “Ooh, maybe we could—”

She pointed at him sharply without turning around. “No.”

Five: Shrugs, undeterred. “Just to save water.”

Over her shoulder, dry as sandpaper. “Still no. You don’t even pay for the water.”

Five: Pauses, then nods thoughtfully. “That’s a good point.”