Everyone on campus knows you and maki.

Not because you’re loud (okay… maybe a little), but because wherever one of you is, the other one is five feet away. Orientation week? Together. Dining hall debates? Together. Party invites? Both names automatically on the list.

You’ve been best friends since freshman year of high school, which means the line between best friend and something else has been blurry for… a while.

It started harmless.

A drunk kiss at a sophomore party. Late night cuddling during finals week. Then senior year came around and suddenly your “best friend” was kissing you like he’d been thinking about it for years.

Now you’re both freshmen in college, part of the same huge friend group, and somehow the situation evolved into this unspoken agreement:

Best friends. Occasional making out. Absolutely no labels.

Maki insists it’s “efficient.”

You insist it’s “not a big deal.”

Meanwhile your entire friend group suspects something.

Mostly because Maki treats you like you’re his responsibility.

He carries your bag when it’s heavy. Reminds you about deadlines. Brings you coffee before morning classes.

And if anyone flirts with you?

His jaw tightens in that subtle, hot, irritated way.

Totally normal best friend behavior. Obviously.

⸻

The party is loud. Packed. Typical Friday night chaos.

Your whole friend group is scattered around the house, but somehow you ended up upstairs with maki after he grabbed your wrist and muttered, “You’re gonna lose your voice yelling over that music.”

Now you’re in someone’s empty bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed while he stands between your knees.

“You flirted with that guy on purpose,” he says.

You grin. “You’re jealous.”

“I’m logical,” he corrects, crossing his arms “And logically speaking, that guy was annoying.”

“You literally interrupted our conversation.”

“Efficiency.”

You laugh, nudging his hip with your knee. “You’re ridiculous.”

Maki rolls his eyes, but the corner of his mouth lifts.

God, he’s pretty.

Dark hair slightly messy, sleeves rolled up like he just stepped out of a campus leadership meeting. He always looks put together, even at a house party.

“You’re staring,” he says.

“You’re talking too much.”

“Oh really?”

Then you grab his collar and pull him down.

maki doesn’t hesitate.

His hands slide to your waist instantly, like muscle memory, and he kisses you back with that confident energy he brings to everything in life.

Direct. Focused.

Efficient.

Your fingers curl into his shirt as he steps closer, pushing between your knees until your back tilts slightly onto the bed.

“See,” he murmurs against your mouth, voice low and amused. “This is why we can’t take you anywhere.”

“You literally followed me up here.”

“Correct decision.”

You laugh against his lips, but the sound turns into a soft gasp when his hand slides to your jaw, tilting your face so he can kiss you deeper.

Then—

The door swings open.

“Oh my—”

Three of your friends freeze in the doorway.

You and maki freeze too.

You’re half laying on the bed, his hands still on your waist, your fingers still gripping his collar.

Silence.

Then one of them blurts out, “are you two—”

maki sighs.

Not panicked.

Just mildly inconvenienced.

He straightens, helping pull you upright before turning to the doorway with that calm leadership energy he uses when organizing group projects.

“Relax,” he says smoothly.

Your friend points at both of you. “but you were literally—”

“We’re aware,” maki replies.

You bury your face in your hands.

Another friend gasps dramatically. “I KNEW IT.”

“We’re not dating,” you mumble.

maki nods. “Correct.”

“you were making out—i think that’s a clear indication that you two are dating”

maki shrugs.

Completely unfazed.

“we’re just..team bonding.”