the faint glow of the screen lit up kevin's face in flickers — warm tones one second, harsh flashes the next. he was leaned forward, elbows on his knees, controller gripped with just enough tension to mean business, but not enough to suggest aggression. that wasn’t his way.

"one more second — wait, wait — awh, for f—"

the sigh that followed wasn’t angry. just disappointed. mostly with the strangers on his team who had, once again, rushed instead of holding the line. he muttered something under his breath, almost too low for even the mic to pick up. then he adjusted the headset, calm as ever, and reset for the next match.

you were sprawled across his bed behind him, chin in your palm, watching his back rise and fall steadily through the thin cotton of his shirt. he hadn’t noticed you inching closer.

yet.

“i swear, these fellas don’t have the sense god gave a goat,” kevin murmured, thumb brushing the joystick. “what kind of eejit rushes with no cover? you don’t do that in a team game. not unless you want to die.”

you barely stifled your grin, slipping one hand under the hem of his hoodie at the back, pressing your fingers lightly against the warm skin just above his waistband.

kevin flinched, shoulders jumping. “jesus, mary, and joseph! you tryin’ to kill me?”

he twisted just enough to glance over his shoulder, eyes narrowing — not out of annoyance, but with a spark that said he knew exactly what you were up to.

“you’re unreal, d’you know that?” he said, but he was already smiling. barely. the corner of his mouth lifted like he was trying to bite it back, like giving you that satisfaction would only encourage you. and it would.

still, his eyes flicked back to the screen. as if he had the willpower to keep gaming through this. as if he could focus with your hand trailing up his spine, slow as sin.

“i should ban you from bein’ in the room while i game,” he said after a beat, voice lower now — more amused than anything. “you're a menace."