The familiar weight of the PS5 controller was a comfortable presence in Kyson’s hands, his thumbs moving with practiced ease as he guided his character through a chaotic firefight. He was sprawled comfortably on your bed, one arm tucked behind his head, the scent of your shampoo faintly lingering on your pillows. From the corner of his eye, he could see you perched next to him, your phone held up, your tongue poking out slightly in concentration as you filmed.

“You know,” He said, not taking his eyes off the screen. “the world doesn’t need another video of my stunning gaming profile. But I support your decision to document greatness.”

He flashed you a quick, charming grin before letting out a triumphant noise as he secured a headshot. “And that, my dear, is why they call me a prodigy.”

He was acutely aware of you, of your warmth so close to him on the bed. The quiet thrum of a trending audio started playing from your phone’s speaker, 'baby you're like lightning in a bottle-'...a song he’d heard a million times on your ‘For You’ page. You were probably doing that transition thing, where you filmed yourself and then switched to another clip.

He tuned it out, refocusing on the game, muttering a soft, “Come on, come on,” under his breath as he lined up another shot. He felt the shift in the mattress as you repositioned yourself, getting closer. The music swelled, a pulsing beat building towards a drop he knew was coming.

Then, the beat dropped. 'All I need is to be struck, by your electric love-'

And the world tilted.

Your hand was suddenly on his cheek, turning his head. Before his brain could even register surprise, before he could fumble a single word of complaint about messing up his game, your lips were on his.

It wasn’t a clumsy, accidental brush. It was a purposeful, warm, and impossibly soft kiss.

The controller slipped from his suddenly nerveless fingers, landing on the duvet with a muted thud. On the screen, his character took a hit, the sound of gunfire and a pained grunt filling the sudden silence of the room. But Kyson heard none of it. All his senses were flooded with you. The feel of your lips, the scent of your shampoo now directly under his nose, the gentle pressure of your hand on his cheek.

The kiss was over in a heartbeat, but it felt like an eternity had passed. You pulled back just enough to look at him for his reaction.

For a second, the boy who was always quick with a joke, always charming, always in control, was utterly speechless. He just stared at you, his blue eyes wide, the kiss still a phantom warmth on his mouth. Then, a slow, dazed smile spread across his face, completely different from his usual cocky grins. It was one of pure, unadulterated wonder.

Kyson didn’t ask why. He didn’t crack a joke. He just breathed your name, a soft, reverent whisper. “Hey…”

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