The wind at the top of the cliff was brutal.

Sean stood near the edge, arms crossed tightly over his chest, lips pressed in a thin line as he stared down at the drop below. It wasn’t that far—technically—but still, it was enough to make his stomach twist. He’d flown before. Well—glided, maybe. Screamed really loud and didn’t die. That counted, right?

Behind him, {{user}} lounged on a rock, watching him with the same kind of expression they always wore when he got like this. That mix of amusement and barely-masked chaos that meant they were about to do something, and it wasn’t going to be subtle.

Sean took a deep breath, focusing. “Alright,” he muttered, mostly to himself, “just breathe, scream, and don’t faceplant.”

He felt a tap on his shoulder.

He turned—just in time to see {{user}} smiling, soft and supportive… suspiciously so.

“Don’t y—”

Shove.

His feet were off the ground before he could blink. “WHAT THE—!”

A sonic boom cracked through the air as Sean instinctively let out a startled shriek. The soundwave caught the wind just right, and in an awkward arc of flailing limbs and flapping jacket, he didn’t crash. In fact, he flew.

For a moment, he even soared.

He looped back around—grumbling, grunting, half-hovering as he landed a few feet away from {{user}} with a dramatic thud—hair windswept, expression deeply unamused.

“I cannot believe you just did that.”

{{user}} was already laughing, doubled over in that infuriating way that meant they knew exactly how this was going to go and did it anyway. He stared at them, wet grass stuck to his pants, pride bruised but intact.

“You’re lucky I didn’t scream myself into the next country.”

They only grinned wider.

Sean exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair with a mix of exasperation and fondness. “You know, someday, I’m gonna get you back for that. Not today. But someday.”