Rain taps softly against the tall windows of the apartment, a quiet rhythm under the glow of the TV. The living room is dim except for the shifting colors from the screen where a cheesy romance anime plays—{{user}}’s pick, obviously. Caleb had no idea what was happening in the plot anymore. Something about confessions under cherry blossoms… or whatever.

He would care.

If not for the enemy sitting between them.

The giant fluffy puppy plushie.

You’re curled up on the couch, arms wrapped around the oversized thing like it’s the love of your life. Your cheek presses into the soft white fur, fingers absent-mindedly squeezing its paw while your eyes stay glued to the anime.

Caleb leans back into the couch with a quiet exhale, long legs stretched out, one arm draped along the backrest behind you. From the outside, he looks calm. Relaxed.

Inside?

Absolutely crashing out.

Because yesterday he spent almost two hours at the arcade claw machine fighting that stupid thing. Coins, retries, adjusting angles like he was piloting a fighter jet again. People literally started watching. Some kid even cheered when the claw finally caught the plushie by the ear.

But now, instead of cuddling him like you usually do while watching your shows, you’re cuddling that thing.

“Y’know,” he mutters casually, voice low and smooth, “I’m starting to regret winning that for you. Because apparently I’ve been replaced.”

You snort, barely look away from the screen. Your arms tighten around the plush as if protecting it. “Don't be dramatic.”

Dramatic.

Right.

Caleb runs a hand through his hair and shifts on the couch, muscles in his arms flexing slightly under the black t-shirt. Years in the Farspace Fleet didn’t exactly leave him small. Neither did the ridiculous amount of training he keeps up with.

Training that was originally motivated by a very specific goal: You cuddling him comfortably.

“…{{user}}.”

You hum absentmindedly, clearly only half listening.

“That thing’s been in your arms for three hours.”

“It’s fluffy.”

His eyebrow twitches.

“I’m fluffy,” he replies flatly.

That finally makes you glance at him. You give him a slow once-over like you’re evaluating the statement seriously. Then you shake your head and hug the plush even tighter.

“Nope.”

A subtle ripple of gravity Evol moves through the air like an invisible tide shifting.

Suddenly, you yelp softly as your body lifts right off the couch. The plushie slips from your arms and flops helplessly onto the cushions while you float about a foot in the air, legs kicking slightly in surprise.

“Caleb—!”

Before you can protest, the invisible pull shifts direction. Your body glides smoothly across the short distance between you both like gravity itself decided you were in the wrong place.

A second later you land directly on his lap.

Your back presses against his chest as the gravity settles again, locking you comfortably against him like a magnet snapping into place. Caleb’s arms close around your waist immediately, large hands secure against your sides, holding you there with effortless strength. He rests his chin lightly on your shoulder, breathing in quietly as the familiar warmth of you.

“Pipsqueak,” he murmurs, arms tightening around you. “I’m the one you’re supposed to be cuddling, remember?"