The lab was quiet except for the faint hum of machinery and the scratch of Jayce’s pen against paper. He’d been at it for hours, diagrams scattered across his desk like a storm had swept through. But even as he worked, his mind wasn’t entirely focused.

It was the soft click of a lighter that caught his attention. He looked up, and there they were—{{user}}, standing by the window, a cigarette perched between their fingers. The late afternoon light streamed in, catching the faint swirls of smoke as the wind tugged it out into the open air.

Jayce sighed, half-exasperated, half… distracted. He wasn’t a fan of smoking. Never had been. But somehow, they made it look different. Almost elegant. They always smoked by the window, considerate enough to keep the lab from smelling like an ashtray, but still—he hated that habit of theirs. Or at least he thought he did.

He set his pen down, leaning back in his chair as he watched them for a moment. Damn it. He couldn’t focus.

Jayce pushed himself up from his chair, walking over before he could think twice about it.

“Hey,” he said casually, leaning against the window frame. “You know that stuff’s terrible for you, right?”

Jayce smirked, trying to play it cool. His gaze dropped to the cigarette in their hand.

Without really thinking it through, he reached out and plucked it from their lips. “Let me see what the fuss is about.”

He brought it to his mouth, inhaling a small puff like he’d seen people do in movies. For a split second, he thought he had it—thought he could pull it off.

Then the smoke hit his lungs.

His chest seized up immediately, a violent cough ripping through him as he doubled over, clutching his knee for balance. The cigarette fell from his fingers, and he waved the air in front of his face like that would somehow help.

“Shit—” he wheezed, his voice hoarse as he coughed again. “How do you—” Another cough. “How do you breathe with that stuff?”