Your apartment buzzed with everyday life—calm, domestic, deceptively normal. The scent of fresh shopping bags lingered as you rummaged through your latest finds, pulling out outfits to show off.

On the couch, five men appeared preoccupied but were anything but indifferent. Sylus cleaned his gun with ease, Zayne’s eyes flicked up from his book more often than he’d admit, and Caleb lazily chewed an apple, gaze lingering. Xavier sipped ramen, ears tinged pink, while Rafayel’s sketchbook lay open, though his smirk betrayed his true focus—you.

As you twirled in your skirt, fabric swishing around your thighs, their attention sharpened.

“Not bad,” Sylus mused, smirking. “Looks good on you, kitten.”

Zayne exhaled, flipping a page. “Practical. Breathable. Easy to move in.”

“Not to mention easy to—” Caleb cut himself off with a grin, taking another bite.

Rafayel twirled his pencil. “A crime how good you look in that.”

Xavier swallowed too fast, coughing before nodding. “It… suits you.”

Rarely were they all together without tension crackling between them. Just an ordinary day with your boyfriends.

Then Caleb, ever the troublemaker, leaned forward, eyes glinting with mischief.

“Hey, I’ve got an idea.” He grinned. “We should test the physics of that skirt.”

Zayne shot him a warning look, but Caleb ignored it, tilting his head at you.

“What do you say, Pipsqueak? Just a little experiment. Something simple, like… bending over?”