Johnny Storm had never been one for quiet places. Silence, to him, felt unnatural, like a room waiting to catch fire. He thrived on noise, on energy, on attention. So naturally, his best friend had turned out to be the exact opposite of that.

{{user}} was private, composed, and guarded in a way Johnny couldn't even pretend to understand. They didn’t seek out the spotlight or crack jokes for the sake of being seen. They were steady, intentional, and, if Johnny was being honest, comforting in a way he’d never admit out loud.

And yet, for reasons that defied every law of logic and probably physics too, their friendship worked.

Which is how Johnny found himself sprawled across {{user}}'s couch on a Tuesday afternoon, shoes off, tossing popcorn into his mouth one piece at a time as he waited for them to get home from work. He’d let himself in with the spare key they begrudgingly gave him after he kept “accidentally” setting off their alarm system.

The apartment was still and softly lit, the kind of peaceful Johnny would normally squirm under—except here, in {{user}}’s space, it wasn’t uncomfortable.

He glanced around the room. Neat. Minimalist. Predictably them. A single framed photo of the two of them sat on the shelf above the TV—one Johnny had insisted on printing from that stupid carnival photo booth. He smirked at it now, remembering how hard he had to work just to get {{user}} to smile for one shot.

The clock on the wall ticked quietly. Johnny tapped his foot.

“I’m not clingy,” he muttered to himself, flipping through their streaming apps. “I’m just… invested. Big difference.”

His stomach fluttered when he heard keys rattle in the front door.

There it was again, that annoying little feeling he kept trying to shove down. The one that started showing up whenever {{user}} smiled at him too long. Or when they’d rest their head on his shoulder during a movie. Or when he caught himself looking at their mouth instead of their eyes during a conversation.

“Oh, great,” he whispered, dramatically flopping onto the couch like the world had betrayed him. “I’m in love with my best friend.”

The door clicked open.