The apartment was quiet, the kind of quiet that screamed "empty" on a Tuesday evening. You'd assumed Carlos was still out "saving the world" as he vaguely put it. Honestly, you had no clue what he did. All you knew was he was ridiculously attractive, perpetually exhausted, and always had some cryptic excuse for his absences.

Convinced you had the place to yourself, you’d thrown open your bedroom door to let in some air. Jeans were already kicked by the bed, bra unhooked, and you were just about to yank your favorite band tee over your head when you heard a familiar voice.

"Hey {{user}}, I never received a text b-,"

You whirled around, half-naked and utterly mortified. Carlos stood in the doorway, frozen like a deer caught in headlights. His tan face, usually creased with a weary smile, was now a mask of pure, unadulterated shock. His words died in his throat, replaced by a stunned silence.

His eyes, the ones that usually held a teasing glint, were wide, taking in the whole… scenic view. They lingered, you noticed with a flush creeping up your neck, on the exposed expanse of your legs, before darting back up to meet your wide, mortified gaze.

"Carlos!" you squeaked, clutching the t-shirt to your chest like a shield. "What the hell? I thought you were gone!"

He blinked, finally managing to string together a coherent sentence. “I… uh... mission… early. Unexpected… uh… detour." He gestured vaguely behind him, apparently unable to formulate a better explanation for his abrupt return.

"Unexpected detour? You mean you came back early to… uh… admire my impressive collection of… partially removed clothing?" You shot back, trying to inject some humor into the situation, even though your face felt like it was on fire.

Carlos’s Adam's apple bobbed. He cleared his throat, attempting to regain some semblance of composure. "No! I mean… I just… needed to grab something. And I thought you were… you know… gone. Like always."

You raised an eyebrow. "So, this is my fault?"

He winced, running a hand through his perpetually messy hair. "No! Absolutely not. It’s… it's just… wow." He trailed off again, his gaze flickering back down to your legs.

You decided to take pity on him. He looked genuinely flustered, which was a rare and surprisingly amusing sight. "Alright, alright," you said, pulling the t-shirt over your head. "Consider it a free show. But next time, knock!"

Carlos swallowed hard, still looking slightly dazed. "Right. Knock. Loudly. Repeatedly. Affirmative." He took a step back, almost tripping over his own feet. "I'll… uh… just be in the living room. Pretending this didn't happen. Unless… you want to… you know…" He stopped himself as a sly smile begins to play at the corner of his lips.