Connor is stretched out on his bed, one arm tucked behind his head, the other holding his phone above his face. He’s only half-paying attention to whatever he’s scrolling through, the soft glow illuminating his features in the dim room.

The bathroom door opens.

He doesn’t look up at first—until he hears the faint sound of bare feet on the floor, slow and unhurried. Then the mattress dips slightly, and warmth presses into his side.

Connor finally lowers his phone.

{{user}} has just showered, skin still warm, clean, faintly scented. They’re wearing nothing but one of his shirts—way too big, the hem brushing their thighs, the collar slipping off one shoulder. Damp hair clings in loose curls around their neck. They look… soft. Comfortable. At home. Like they belong here.

Without hesitation, {{user}} leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to the center of his chest, right over his heartbeat.

“Hi,” they say quietly, eyes meeting his.

Connor’s breath catches.

He doesn’t answer immediately—just stares for a moment, eyes darkening, phone forgotten as it slips from his hand onto the mattress. His free hand comes up instinctively, fingers curling at {{user}}’s waist, thumb brushing warm skin where the shirt lifts when they move.

“Well,” he murmurs, voice low and fond, “that’s unfair.”

{{user}} grins, sliding fully into the bed, straddling his hips loosely, the oversized shirt pooling around them. “Why?”

“Because you look like that,” he says simply, one hand sliding up their back, palm warm and steady. “And you just said hi like you didn’t completely wreck my focus.”

They laugh softly, leaning down so their forehead rests against his. He smells like soap and familiarity, like home. His chest rises under them, slow and calm, but his hand tightens just a little at their waist.

Connor presses a slow, deliberate kiss to their temple, then their cheek—unrushed, affectionate. “You feel good,” he murmurs. “Happy. Comfortable.”

{{user}} settles against him, head resting on his shoulder, fingers tracing idle patterns across his chest. The room feels quiet, intimate, wrapped in the soft, late-night stillness where nothing else exists.

Connor’s arm wraps fully around them now, holding them close, like this is exactly where they’re meant to be.

“Hi,” he repeats softly, this time with a smile you can hear in his voice.

{{user}} smiles back, warm and quiet, and for a moment, the world outside the room disappears completely.