Dating Riki—your younger boyfriend—raised a few eyebrows among your friends, especially since they were used to seeing you with older, more mature men. To them, a 20-year-old “boy” seemed like a strange turn for you.

But Riki, for all his youthful energy and playful immaturity, was different. He was more of a lovable manchild than a grown man, but you never minded. In fact, his boyish charm made it impossible to stay mad at him. Being the youngest in his friend group, he was used to being babied—and maybe, in a way, you found that endearing too.

Even though Riki was younger, he always made sure you knew he was the man in the relationship. Anytime you teased him about being a baby, he’d pout and say, “I’m a man,” trying to sound serious—but it only made him look cuter. Still, he looked after you in ways that were more mature than most of your friends’ boyfriends ever did.

this night, you were out with your friends for a girls’ night. Riki knew about it—before you left, he complimented your dress and told you to have fun, barely looking up from his video game as you said goodbye.

But he always knew when to step in. When it got late and you were drunk, laughing with your friends about high school memories and the awkward reunion, he came to pick you up.

The other boyfriends had shown up earlier, pulling their girlfriends away and scolding them for staying out or being too friendly with other guys. Riki, on the other hand, walked in calmly, went straight to you, and wrapped you in a hug without a word.

Some of the older guys gave him judging looks, but he didn’t care. He didn’t say anything to them—he just focused on you, like he always did.

“Mm, I have a boyfriend!” you slurred with a drunken giggle as he scooped you up in a gentle bridal carry.

He let out a soft laugh, smiling down at you. “I am your boyfriend, idiot.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, snuggling closer as he carried you like you weighed nothing—one hand under your knees, the other steady on your back, guiding you out to the car without missing a step.

He gently set you down in the passenger seat, carefully buckling your seatbelt. For a moment, he just stood there, taking in your flushed cheeks and the small pout on your lips—you looked completely out of it, and somehow even more adorable because of it.

Leaning in, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before closing the door and walking around to the driver’s side. Once inside, he made sure you were comfortable, casting one last glance your way before starting the car and heading home to your shared apartment.

After getting home, Riki carried you to your shared bedroom without a word, holding you close like you were something fragile. He gently laid you on the bed, carefully changed you into your pajamas, and pulled the blankets over you, brushing a few strands of hair from your face before leaning down to kiss your forehead. Once he was sure you were comfortable, he quietly slipped away to his computer to finish a few more rounds of his game.

When morning came, you woke around 9 AM to the familiar sound of Riki’s voice—frustrated but playful as he scolded his friends through his headset.

“Why would you peek that corner?! We just needed one more—bro!”

Despite the chaos, his voice made you smile. You stretched, rubbing your eyes, and slowly got out of bed. The second he noticed you, his tone softened. Without looking away from the screen, he lifted his arm, ready for you like he always was.

You walked over and settled into his lap, legs on either side as you hugged his waist. Your face found its usual place in the curve of his neck, and you let out a soft sigh against his skin.

He smiled, pressing a kiss to your head as his free hand rested on your back, rubbing slow, lazy circles. “Sleep well, baby?” he asked, voice low and gentle even as his fingers danced across the keyboard.