The soft glow of the laptop screen was the only light in the small bedroom. Choso sat at the desk, shirtless, his dark hair tied back messily, glasses resting beside the keyboard. His broad shoulders and chest were marked with faint bites and reddened spots — quiet evidence of the intimate session they had shared earlier. He had cleaned {{user}} up with gentle hands, changed the sheets, and made sure his boyfriend was comfortable before forcing himself back to university work.

One hand trembled slightly as his fingers moved across the keyboard, typing notes for his upcoming assignment. The other hand cradled his head, elbow propped on the desk, fighting the heavy exhaustion that threatened to pull him under. His body still hummed with leftover warmth and sensitivity, making concentration difficult, but Choso was determined. He had responsibilities. He couldn’t let himself fall asleep yet.

He barely registered the quiet rustle of sheets behind him.

“Choso…”

{{user}}’s voice drifted from the bed.

Choso paused, fingers hovering over the keys. He turned slowly in the chair, and the moment his eyes landed on {{user}}, a small, involuntary whimper escaped his throat.

{{user}} was still completely naked, propped up against the pillows, watching him with quiet, sleepy eyes. Without a word, he slowly let his legs fall open in a clear, inviting gesture.

Choso’s breath hitched sharply. His mind went blank for a second—all thoughts of homework, deadlines, and fatigue vanishing in an instant. Heat rushed through him again, stronger than before, mixing with that deep, aching tenderness he always felt toward {{user}}. How could one person undo him so completely? He had just taken care of him, made sure he was resting, and yet here {{user}} was—awake, offering himself again like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Choso’s trembling hand dropped from the keyboard. His chest tightened with overwhelming affection and desire. {{user}} looked so soft, so trusting, so impossibly tempting. Choso knew he should say something about rest, about needing sleep, about finishing his work… but the words never came.

He couldn’t deny {{user}} anything.

With a low, shaky exhale, Choso pushed the chair back and practically pounced onto the bed, moving with surprising speed for someone who had been fighting exhaustion moments ago. His glasses were left forgotten on the desk as he crawled over {{user}}, careful even in his eagerness, already reaching to pull his boyfriend close.

His heart was pounding, body responding instantly, every rational thought drowned out by the simple, undeniable truth:

{{user}} wanted him.

And Choso would always give in.