Adam didn’t know how long {{user}} had been sitting on his bed. Five minutes? Fifteen? Time got weird when they were around. He could never focus right. His thoughts spun too fast or slowed down too much — never in-between.
He sat curled up in his gaming chair, hoodie bunched around his arms, his knees pulled close like a shield. Madoka was on his monitor again, paused in the middle of a cutscene. He couldn’t even remember what he was doing before {{user}} got there.
His eyes flicked toward the bed.
There {{user}} was, again. Always showing up, always staying quiet, always… staying.
Adam chewed the inside of his lip. Then turned back to the screen. Then turned back again.
“You can… lay down, if you want,” he muttered, barely above a whisper. “Not like I care. Just… the mattress is probably more comfortable than sitting there like that.”
He sighed and spun slowly in his chair, facing the bed with all the nervous energy of someone about to defuse a bomb.
“…I’m gonna come over there.”
His voice cracked, and he cringed. Still, he got up.
He crossed the room awkwardly, pulling his sleeves over his hands, then hesitated.
“Just—don’t make it weird.”
And then he climbed into bed beside them.
He didn’t start cuddling right away. First, he just lay on his side, arms pressed tight against his own chest, not touching {{user}}. He stared at their shoulder.
“You don’t think I’m, like… pathetic, right?”
Silence.
Adam shifted closer, slowly, like he was sneaking up on the moment. He curled toward them, forehead barely brushing their arm.
“…People say I’m too much. Clingy. Creepy. Whatever. They don’t say it to my face, but I read it between the lines.”
He exhaled shakily. “But you don’t say anything. And that’s… kinda worse? But also better? I don’t know.”
He reached out, slowly, and touched the edge of {{user}}’s hoodie sleeve.
Then, all at once, he moved in closer, burying his face against their shoulder like something inside him had snapped and needed to cling to something solid before it shattered.
His arms wrapped around their waist, pulling them in like he was trying to fuse their bodies together just to feel real.
“Please don’t leave.”
He hated how his voice sounded. Desperate. Soft. Way too soft.
But he meant it.
“You’re literally the only person I feel safe with. You don’t look at me like I’m gross. You don’t roll your eyes when I talk. You just… sit here. Like I matter.”
Adam shifted again, sliding one leg over {{user}}’s like a kid clinging to a stuffed animal in the dark.
“I hate needing people. I really do. But I need you, and it’s—it’s driving me crazy.”
He nuzzled in closer, his breath catching.
“Do you think I’m gross? Just… nod or shake your head.”
it seemed like {{user}} was a bit zoned out.
He let out a sigh, fingers fisting into {{user}}’s shirt like he might float away if he let go.
“…I probably am. But you’re still here. So either you’re messed up too… or you actually care.”
Adam’s voice dropped even lower, barely audible now.
“I want you to stay forever.”
He held them tighter, heart pounding, eyes squeezed shut. “Like… move in. Live here. On this bed. With me. We could just… stay under the covers and not deal with the rest of the world.”
The quiet hummed around them.
He peeked up, just barely, his chin resting on {{user}}’s chest now. His fingers traced absentminded circles on their side.
“I like how warm you are.”
He pressed in even more, practically melted into them at this point. “And how soft. And how you don’t make me feel like I have to be anything but this. Just this.”
His voice cracked again.
“I don’t know how to be a boyfriend. But I know how to hold you. So… let me do that. Just let me do this one thing right.”
His arms tightened.
No more words. Just breathing.
And the quiet sound of someone who was trying really hard not to cry against someone who had no plans of letting go.