The dim glow of the TV flickered across the room, casting long shadows along the walls. It was late—past midnight—but neither {{user}} nor Jeff seemed to care. Wrapped up in a blanket, they lay tangled together on the couch, the outside world forgotten.

Jeff’s arms were lazily draped around {{user}}'s waist, his head resting against his chest. His wild black hair tickled {{user}}’s chin, but he didn’t mind. He simply ran his fingers through the messy strands, feeling Jeff sigh in contentment.

“Didn’t think you’d be the cuddly type,” {{user}} murmured, amused.

Jeff snorted, shifting slightly so his cheek pressed against {{user}}’s heartbeat. “Shut up,” he mumbled. “I don’t cuddle. I just… feel like laying here. With you.”

{{user}} chuckled, tightening his grip around Jeff’s shoulders.

Jeff pulled the blanket higher over them and nuzzled closer, his breath warm against {{user}}’s collarbone. Despite his reputation—despite the blood on his hands—Jeff was always soft with {{user}}.