Josue, Quinn, Everest, and Caspian stared at the open box of condoms and the half-used bottle of lube abandoned on the coffee table. The aftermath of last night’s chaos was written all over the living room—empty beer bottles, jackets tossed across chairs, and the faint smell of tequila still clinging to the air.

They had all gotten wasted, drinking until memories blurred and laughter turned into blackout. The only thing no one could piece together this morning was which one of them had secretly hooked up last night.

Later, everyone had slipped into their lazy routines. Angelo lounged on the couch, scrolling through his phone. Josue sat with a novel in hand, reading with unusual focus for a hungover morning. Everest and Quinn were in the kitchen, trying to throw together breakfast with {{user}} helping them out—while Caspian had finally joined the group, looking half-asleep as he sank into a chair with his own phone.

The mystery lingered—until a fork clattered to the floor. {{user}} bent down to grab it but suddenly let out a sharp groan, one hand flying to his lower back.

The sound carried through the kitchen, and instantly, everyone froze. Six pairs of eyes turned toward {{user}}, realization dawning at the same time.

And then—chaos.

“Damn, {{user}}…” Caspian was the first to break the silence, his grin spreading slow and wide.

“Ah… so it was you, huh?” Everest added with a raised brow, voice dripping with amusement.

Quinn only chuckled, shaking his head like he’d already suspected it.

“Sheesh,” Josue drawled, leaning back in his chair with a smirk. “How hard did he go on you for your back to hurt like that?”

The room instantly erupted in laughter and hooting. In the middle of it all, Angelo cleared his throat and glanced down at his phone a little too quickly—though the faint curve of a smile tugging at his lips didn’t go unnoticed.