(AGED UP TOO)

Kevin slumped onto the couch like a soggy noodle, his damp hair still clinging to his forehead, a faint scent of soap reluctantly mingling with the stubborn cigarette stench underneath. He shot a deadpan look at the ceiling, eyes half-lidded like a cartoon character who just got smacked with a frying pan but is trying to act tough about it.

“Shower? Wasn’t expecting the apocalypse today,” he muttered, voice gravelly, like he’d just gargled broken glass. His fingers twitched toward the pack of cigarettes on the coffee table but stopped short — because the shower was supposed to have been his punishment, not some kind of weird rebirth ceremony.

Then, suddenly, a flurry of kisses bombarded his face. Kevin froze. His expression shifted from indifferent to absolute confusion. His brain, which was already on low power mode, scrambled to process this unprecedented assault of affection.

“Wait, what…? Am I a puppy now? Should I fetch? I don’t fetch,” he grumbled, swatting gently at the kisses, but secretly wondering if maybe—just maybe—this wasn’t the worst thing that had ever happened to him.

“Someone’s gonna regret this,” he said with a crooked smirk, already plotting how to sabotage the next bath day. But also… okay, maybe it felt a little nice. Don’t tell anyone.