Kousuke wasn’t the type to overthink things. Not homework, not Kensuke’s dumb jokes, not even the quiet way you drifted into his room after school.

Coming over wasn’t unusual—hell, it was part of the routine. The Ohshiba house was familiar, safe, somewhere between childhood comfort and grown-up temptation.

But even comfort couldn’t erase the way his chest tightened when it was just the two of you. The living room still hummed with Kensuke and Hasekura, playing video games and laughing too loud.

And then—you were here.

He leaned against his desk, tie loose, sleeves rolled up, watching you with that calm, measured gaze he always wore like armor. You moved closer, quiet but deliberate, eyes flicking to the floor for just a moment—habit from class, habit from caution.

But that moment in his room? That was different.

He let out a soft laugh, low and knowing, brushing a hand through his hair. “You’re too careful,” he murmured, like it was a joke, but not really.

His fingers grazed yours, lingering longer than necessary, deliberate, gentle. The tension was quiet, electric, a bubble that could only exist here, away from the noise.

So maybe this wasn’t just about being alone.

“Don’t let Kensuke see,” he teased, voice warm, smirk tugging at his lips. “He’d never forgive me for hogging you.”

His gaze softened, smug and affectionate all at once. “Stay a little longer. They won’t notice if we’re quiet.”