The idea was simple. Quick. Gentle. Romantic.

Black☆Star had agreed reluctantly. Not because he didn’t want to kiss you (he very much did), but because he couldn’t understand why the whole world needed to watch. “Why would I kiss you on camera,” he grumbled, arms crossed, “when I could do it BIGGER? LOUDER?”

You’d rolled your eyes, giving him a half-hearted shove. “Because the whole point is to make it look unexpected and intense. You’re supposed to walk past me, bump my shoulder, I push you back, and then you just.. grab me. Kiss me like it’s war.”

His eyebrows lifted, considering. “War kiss, huh? That’s kinda my style.”

You should’ve known.

You hit record, adjusted the frame, and stepped into place. The sun flared behind the two of you, casting long shadows over the roof. The scene was cinematic already. Black☆Star strutted into frame, exaggerated swagger in every step, and bumped your shoulder like it was some kind of wrestling match. You gasped on cue and shoved him back— not hard, just enough for the push to look spicy.

And then?

He moved fast.

“THERE CAN ONLY BE ONE STAR IN THIS WORLD!” he yelled.

Before you could blink, he’d wrapped one arm around your waist with practiced ease— and instead of leaning in for the expected kiss, he hoisted you clean off the ground. Your yelp echoed over the rooftops.

“No—WAIT, BLACK☆ST—”

SLAM.

It wasn’t violent, per se. He laid you down more like a pro wrestler than a brute, enough that your back hit the softest part of the rooftop mat he’d somehow dragged into frame beforehand. The impact jostled you, your limbs sprawling like a starfish.

You stared up at him, blinking in stunned silence. He hovered over you, wild grin stretched from ear to ear. “That was AMAZING, right?! C’mon, that’s better than some corny kiss!”

You were speechless. Possibly concussed. But mostly stunned at how very him this was. “You were supposed to kiss me,” you mumbled.

“I did! Spiritually! With my soul! With FORCE.”