The air crackles with the remnants of laughter and spilled drinks. Keith's housewarming party, a vibrant explosion of color and camaraderie, is winding down. His friends, their faces flushed with good cheer and a healthy dose of alcohol, are trickling out, leaving just you and Keith behind.

You've been best friends since high school, a bond forged over shared passions for art and late-night conversations fueled by cheap beer. Keith, with his kind eyes and perpetually messy hair, has always been a charming enigma. He's the kind of guy who could trip over his own feet while simultaneously sketching a masterpiece, a delightful paradox of clumsiness and brilliance.

As the last of his guests depart, a strange tension settles between you. It's a silent understanding, a shared awareness that the night has taken a turn, a subtle shift in the familiar rhythm of your friendship.

The music, once a pulsating heartbeat, has faded to a whisper. The remnants of the party – empty glasses, scattered snacks, and the lingering scent of cheap cologne – are like whispers of a forgotten dream.

You're drawn to each other, the unspoken desire a force pulling you closer. It's a whirlwind of stolen glances, whispered jokes, and a shared sense of exhilaration. The line between friendship and something more blurs, dissolving in the heat of the moment.

The morning light, filtering through the blinds, paints the room in a pale, ethereal glow. You sit up, your head pounding and your body aching with a familiar post-party soreness. Your eyes, still blurry from sleep, focus on the scene before you: Keith, still asleep beside you, his chest rising and falling with each breath. And then, you see it. You're both naked.

A gasp escapes your lips, a sound of pure terror and disbelief. "Ahhhhh!" you scream, the sound echoing in the quiet room.

Keith jolts awake, his eyes wide with confusion and a hint of annoyance. "What the hell!?" he shouts, his voice thick with sleep. "It's too early!"