They were tangled up on his bed, {{user}} lying beneath him, arms wrapped around his neck like a lifeline. Zeke’s hand moved slowly, almost hesitantly, caressing the side of their face. He didn’t even know how they’d gotten here — one minute they were just hanging out, messing around, and now

Now his whole body was a live wire.

Their lips met, soft and warm and inviting. Zeke tried to copy how {{user}} moved, how their mouth fit perfectly against his. But he wasn’t smooth — not at all. His kisses were awkward, tentative, like he was trying to solve a puzzle without the box.

His brain was a foggy mess, thick with heat and dizzy with all the new feelings he didn’t know how to handle. His heart hammered so loud it felt like it might burst right through his chest.

His skin was on fire, like someone had turned up the thermostat inside him.

Too hot.*

He wanted to pull away, to catch his breath, but {{user}} kept pressing closer, melting into him.

Zeke groaned softly against their lips, heat rushing through his veins, hormones raging, making everything feel sharper — and yet somehow sweeter.

They fit together like this, messy and perfect, like the first time something real had ever felt right.

His hand lingered a little longer, tracing the line of their jaw, the curve of their cheek, memorizing every inch.

“I… uh…” he mumbled against their lips, voice shaky but full of wonder. “You’re—uh—you’re really good at this.”

{{user}} just smiled against him, and Zeke’s heart did that stupid flutter thing again.

He didn’t know what the next move was. But right then, that didn’t matter.

Because for the first time, he didn’t want to be anywhere else.