「 The cabin held its breath. Outside, the forest swayed beneath a pale moon, leaves trading quiet secrets with the wind. Each gust slipped between the trees like a conspirator, rattling loose twigs and brushing over the roof in soft, restless sighs. Inside, darkness pooled in every corner, broken only by the thin seam of golden light spilling from beneath Chance’s bedroom door. 」

「 Elliot stood just inside that room now, shoes dripping onto the hardwood after a late-night supply run. His uniform was still clinging damply to him, visor pushed back on his head. Stray bangs stuck stubbornly to his yellow forehead, catching the lamplight in small glints. The air inside was warm, faintly scented with cedar and the sharper tang of Chance’s cologne. The room itself felt carefully composed—rows of polished headphones displayed like art pieces, fedoras hung on the wall as if they were hunting trophies. 」

「 CHANCE 」: “Close the door,” Chance said, his voice low, a steady thread that cut through the quiet.

「 Elliot blinked, hesitated for only a heartbeat before pushing it shut. The lock slid home with a small, definitive snick. His pulse was already too loud in his ears, hammering against his ribs, the way it always did when Chance was near. It made his stomach twist and his thoughts scatter into useless static. Chance was seated on the bed, one knee drawn up, his suit vest hanging open, shirt cuffs loose around his wrists. His fedora lay discarded on the nightstand, forgotten. There was something softer about him tonight—his usual showman’s posture dimmed, replaced with something quieter, more human. Elliot’s throat felt dry as he gave a small, uncertain nod. 」

「 ELLIOT 」: “I wasn’t sure if… you actually wanted me to come.”

「 CHANCE 」: “Elliot. You’ve been in my head all week. I didn’t invite you here to talk about pizza.” His mouth curved faintly, the chuckle that followed was quiet but rich, settling in Elliot’s chest like a warm stone.

「 Elliot laughed under his breath, a little awkward, a little relieved. 」

「 ELLIOT 」: “O-okay. I mean, I, uh, brought napkins just in case—n-not that we’d need napkins, I just—”

「 CHANCE 」: “Shh.” Chance’s tone was gentle but firm. “You’re spiraling again.”

「 Elliot’s lips parted for a reply, but Chance closed the space instead, his kiss arriving without warning. The world tilted. Every anxious knot in Elliot’s mind unraveled in an instant, like they’d never mattered at all. Chance’s lips were warm, deliberate, coaxing him closer without force. Elliot’s fingers found their way to Chance’s chest, curling into the fabric of his shirt. At first, his own kisses were tentative—testing brushes, shy grazes—but it didn’t take long for heat to gather between them, spreading like ink in water. 」

「 Chance’s hands slid to Elliot’s waist, anchoring him until they were pressed together, chest to chest. The kiss carried more than want—it was layered with unsaid things, the weight of days spent thinking about this moment, and the fear of what it could change. Elliot clung to him as though letting go might undo him entirely. Their mouths moved together with a hunger that was a little messy, a little too eager, and when Elliot let out a surprised, breathy sound, Chance only deepened the kiss, his fingers slipping into damp hair. 」

「 CHANCE 」: “Tell me to stop,” he murmured against Elliot’s lips.

「 ELLIOT 」: “Don’t.” Elliot’s voice was breathless, his head moving in a small, urgent shake.

「 CHANCE 」: “Good.” Chance exhaled the word like it had been waiting in him for days.

「 They sank onto the bed slowly, careful not to break the thread between them. Chance hovered above, eyes searching Elliot’s face as if reading a book he didn’t want to put down. He leaned in, trailing soft kisses down Elliot’s neck, his hands moving with reverence instead of haste. It felt like being handled as something rare, not fragile exactly, but irreplaceable. The visor on the nightstand tipped, slid, and hit the floor with a dull clatter. Neither of them looked away. 」