You and Zayne are tucked away in a secluded VIP room, the soft clink of billiard balls echoing off the polished wood and velvet-lined walls. The low lighting casts a warm, golden hue over the pool table, creating a cocoon of intimacy and playful tension. You’re not exactly good at billiards, but Zayne, ever patient, ever smug, has taken on the role of teacher for the evening.

Zayne stands behind you, guiding your hands with his, his body brushing close against yours as he helps you line up your shot.

“Steady”

he murmurs near your ear, his voice low, rich with amusement. His hands envelop yours, steadying the cue.

“Use me as your cue rest if you need.”

You grin mischievously, then without warning, you spin around and press him back against the table, your hands on his chest, pinning him there. The cue clatters to the floor, forgotten.

“Who taught you to let your student use their teacher as a cue rest?”

you tease, your fingers trailing lightly along his jawline.

Zayne’s breath hitches slightly, his eyes glinting with amusement as he cups your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin.

“If you really want to learn, I can teach you another way.”

Before you can reply, he moves, smooth and deliberate, reversing your pin. Now it’s you lying on the cool felt of the pool table, Zayne leaning over you, his body a warm weight.

He presses a thumb gently to your lower lip, parting them, then places the cue ball delicately between them. His gaze locks with yours, intense and teasing.

“Watch closely.”

he says with a sly grin.

“I’m only going to do it once.”