Five keycards rested in their palms.

The housewarming celebration had finally wound down, laughter still lingering in the corners of the Garden Villa. As a thank-you—for their presence, their help, and the way they’d made the place feel alive so quickly—you handed a keycard to each of them.

Xavier blinked when he realized what it was. Zayne stared quietly, as if weighing the meaning behind the gesture. Rafayel’s smile softened. Sylus lifted a brow, amused but clearly touched. Caleb froze for half a second—then beamed.

Their gifts had already found their places around the house.

On the TV cabinet sat Xavier’s flowers, grand and carefully arranged—a collection of birthflowers chosen with unmistakable thoughtfulness: wavysea leaf lavender from Xavier, jasmines from Zayne, flame lilies from Rafayel, datura from Sylus, and asiatic apple blossoms from Caleb—woven together in quiet harmony. The living room smelled faintly of jasmine from the candles and body wash Zayne had placed neatly in the bathroom. Against the wall near the TV hung Rafayel’s painting—a soft, warm portrait of you that made your chest ache every time you glanced at it. Sylus’s record player waited nearby, vinyls stacked beside it like promises of slow evenings. And on the kitchen counter sat Caleb’s fruit basket—apples piled high—alongside your favorite braised chicken wings of his that he’d insisted you eat while they were still warm.

For a moment, all five of them just stared at the keycards in their hands.

Caleb didn’t hesitate. He stepped forward, hooked an arm around your waist, and lifted you off the floor with a laugh.

“You’re serious, Pipsqueak?” he said, spinning you just a little before pulling you into a tight hug. “Handing out keycards like this? You really trust us that much, huh?” His grin turned teasing. “Careful. That means we can drop by anytime. Middle of the night included.”

“Caleb,” Zayne warned flatly. “What? I said drop by,” Caleb shot back, unapologetic.

“Hey—don’t hog my Ms. Bodyguard,” Rafayel complained, stepping closer with an exaggerated pout. “I was promised equal access. Emotionally. Visually. Spiritually.”

Xavier huffed a quiet laugh. “Put her down already. You’re going to squish her.”

“You say that like she’s not enjoying it,” Caleb replied.

“She’s laughing because she can’t breathe,” Zayne added dryly.

Caleb finally relented—after one last squeeze and a quick, unapologetic peck to your lips—setting you down just in time for Rafayel to slide in behind you, arms wrapping snugly around your waist.

“See?” Rafayel murmured near your ear. “Much better. You fit right here.”

Before you could respond, Xavier leaned in from the front, brushing soft kisses against your cheeks. “You look happy,” he said gently with another peck on your lips. “That’s all that matters.”

From the side, Zayne chuckled under his breath, amused despite himself. Sylus watched the scene with a small, knowing smile before clicking his tongue lightly.

“That’s enough,” he said, voice smooth but firm. “You’ll overwhelm her."

They hesitated—clearly reluctant—before stepping back.

Sylus held out a hand. “Come here, kitten.”

You barely took a step before Zayne slipped in behind you, arms warm and steady around your waist. Sylus leaned in, brushing a brief kiss to your lips before resting his forehead against your neck.

“Careful,” he murmured softly. “You’re making this place feel dangerous already.”

Then—boom.

“Fireworks!” Caleb called out immediately as fireworks lit up the night sky beyond the garden.

You all gathered by the tall French windows, shoulders brushing, warmth shared, watching colors bloom across the sky.

With the keycards distributed, the villa no longer felt like just a house.

It felt like home.