Crowfish Brainrot

Your eyes widen and you chuckle shortly. “Did you just refer to yourself in third person?”

He ignores your question, and before you know it, your feet are lifted off the ground and his large palms are holding onto your hips as he sets you down on the counter. 

“What are you doing—” you gasp.

“Show me. I wanna see it.” he requests, completely serious.

“Are you crazy?! Why?”

“Because I don’t believe you. I know that you know I love your bush.”

You scoff at him in disbelief. “I’m not showing you anything!”

“Why? ‘Cause you lied?” he tilts his head closer to you.

“No—because now’s not the time.” you stutter a bit, clearly caught red-handed. 

“Haven’t heard that one before.” He raises an eyebrow, his smirk growing. “You’re usually eager—”

You cut him off by putting your hands over his mouth. He laughs into them before swiping his tongue, licking them. You pull away immediately, as if you’d been burned. 

A beat of silence passes as you wipe your wet palm against the fabric of his shirt. He doesn’t seem to mind, he doesn’t even flinch, evidently used to it. 

The two of you stare at each other in silence, your hand remains atop his shoulder where you just wiped it. You watch him as he carefully lowers himself on his knees, eyes remaining glued to you the entire time. His hands move to rest on your knees.

You feel your face burn up and immediately tighten your grip on his shoulder. “Okay fine—it was a prank!” you blurt out. 

He freezes in his movements. “Really?”

You look away, and then back at him momentarily to nod. 

His hands still holding your knees, he closes them and rests his forehead against them while breathing out a sigh of relief. “You scared me for a second there.”

You chuckle at the sight, your hand finding its way to his burgundy locks. “That scary, huh?”

He leans into your hand, tilting his head sideways, and stares up at you as you continue brushing your fingers through his hair. “Yeah, you owe me an apology.”

You start scratching a particular spot you knew he liked. “Alright, alright. I’m sorry.”

He hums at the sensation, closing his eyes and enjoying your caress. His ears pop out suddenly, and you notice his tail swishing behind him. When he opens his eyes again, they hold a different intent. A heavier one. 

“I think you’re gonna have to give me more than an apology…” he grins.

You quirk an eyebrow, and before you can speak, he stands back up and lifts you into his arms. Your hands immediately find his firm shoulders for balance. 

His face is flushed now, and his eyes are dim. “... can I?” he pleas softly, waiting for your approval. 

Noticing you leaning down towards him, he lowers you so you’re face to face with him. You press your lips to his tenderly. “... yes, you can.”

His breathing is steady and he seems calm, but his rapidly wagging tail behind him gives him away. 

The two of you remain quiet as he carries you to your room and sets you down on the mattress, already understanding each other without using words.

also not proofread, sue me

Eventually, he'll start idly stroking your hand, his big thumb running back and forth across the veins on the back. He'll also hold your hand in both of his, playing with your smaller fingers, or gently trail his fingernails up and down your forearm to make you shiver, holding your wrist in place with his other hand.

And if that still doesn't work, and you have the gall to start doing it again while he's right there? Well, clearly you need to learn your lesson! He wraps his arms around both of yours and cuddles up beside you, keeping you immobilized in his embrace and refusing to let go. If you won't use your hands responsibly, then you don't deserve to use them at all! (He knows you're more likely to indulge in the habit while stressed, so he decides to extract you from the stressful situation altogether. If there's one thing he's good at, it's bringing up your mood!)

"Valko-" Your protest is cut off as he wraps his huge arms around you and squeezes you tight, rolling over to trap you on top of his chest. You squirm, trying to free your arms, but it's as if you're trying to move a brick wall. He kisses up your neck, and you giggle, feeling his smile press against your skin. "You're staying here until I decide you've learned your lesson. You're trapped." He nips your neck playfully, and you try to wriggle free again, just for fun. "But-" He turns on his side, nestling you between his chest and the back of the couch, allowing you to turn and face him. You're enveloped in his warmth, and you let yourself relax, no longer caring so much about your trapped arms as you look up at him. His breath grazes your forehead as he speaks, his voice soft. "No buts. I said I'd help you stop, and a wolf keeps his word." He kisses once, twice, three times to your temple, and a fourth to the tip of your nose. He chuckles when you smile up at him, and guides your head into the crook of his neck. "And this wolf is feeling preeetty tired. I think it's time for a nap." No matter how much you kick or whine, he won't budge. With a huff, you go limp, letting yourself give in to his warmth, and your eyes slowly droop closed. You think you hear a quiet rumble of satisfaction from his chest, but when you open an eye to check, it seems he's fast asleep. Must have been your imagination.

“You two are sick.” A few feet away, Rafayel is shaking his head. “A man is dead, and you’re flirting. The body’s not even cold, and you’re—”

“Okay, Raf.” You peel yourself off the floor, and your skin is sticky. Your head hurts.

You’re not up for even thirty seconds before a tendril of Sylus’s Evol wraps around your fan, repositioning it until the fluff of his hair bounces, fluttering, played with by an artificial breeze.

You sink your hand into that hair as you pass by the couch, your touch far less of a caress. “Get up. Or I’m telling Luke and Kieran you’re taking them on a beach day.”

Sylus groans, and behind the moisturiser and cucumber slices, his face is scrunching as he stretches. He’s always preferred a more tangible knife at his throat.

…

Rafayel dabbles in hyperbole as often as he dodges a phone call from Thomas, but this? Might be an exception. You tilt your head, observing the way Valko’s curled on the floor by your patio doors, like he didn’t quite make it out to the garden.

Curled is the wrong word. It’s a half-curl: he’s on his side, limbs stretched out, tail flat.  

“He’s breathing,” Rafayel confers quietly.

You squint. He is breathing. That’s good.

“Fate comes for all of us eventually,” Sylus hums, nodding as though delivering a morbid prognosis. “It’s relentless. Inevitable.” Then he crushes your body to his. “Don’t look at it, kitten.”

His shirt is half-unbuttoned, his chest tacky against your face. He smells of sweat and gunpowder, and you squeak in protest, only to be hushed like a feral, naïve little thing. Sylus shushes you, stroking the back of your head as you wriggle.

“Raf…” you eke out, whispering warm against Sylus’s pecs, “help!”

“I’ve got you, cutie.”

Rafayel hugs you from behind, only squishing you further. They’re both hot and sticky and you’re going to kill them, just as soon as you can… as soon as you can get… ugh! “Get off, Raf!”

“I know he meant, like, a lot to you,” Rafayel sighs mournfully, resting his chin on your shoulder. “But you’re not alone. We’re here for you. You don’t ever have to be strong with us.”

You stamp on Rafayel’s foot, and kick Sylus in the shin. One yelps. The other draws in a sharp, enamoured breath, but they do release you, thank god. “I’ve had it up to here with you two,” you hiss, marking the air above you with a decisive slice of your hand.

They blink down at the motion, unfazed. Rafayel is mid-hop. Sylus is still.

“Up to there with you!” you try again, pointing higher at the ceiling.

They look up.

“… That’s a lot,” Rafayel says after a moment.

Sylus nods in agreement, taking the new estimate into very careful consideration.

That should keep them occupied for a while. You wander over to where Valko is slumped on the floor, soaking in sunlight. In a black t-shirt and dark jeans, it’s a wonder he’s not a puddle already. Although… from the looks of it, he is headed in vaguely a puddle-ish direction.

“Psst… Valko?”

Nothing.

“Vaaalko…? Can you hear me? You still with us? Valko?”

You’d stooped to talk softly with him, but you’re getting impatient— he’s being so stubborn— so you stand with your hands on your hips instead; the sun’s not the only thing glaring. Carefully, you nudge Valko’s tail with your toe. That earns you an ear twitch, but nothing more. You sigh.

“Guys, can you come and get him into the shade? Gently, please. I’m gonna call Zayne.”

…

“Mmhmm. Yeah? Okay, got it. Thanks so much, Zayne. You’re a life-saver. I know that’s the job description, but…”

When you re-enter the room, a quiet chuckle— rich with fondness and empathy— can be heard through your phone.

“Yeah, Zayne,” you answer after a bit. “Take care of yourself, okay? Ugh, what am I saying? You’re fine, Mr Walking-Talking Snow Globe. But whatever, yeah, still make sure you’re—” you gasp— “ah, Rafayel, no!”

Rafayel is crouched over Valko, slowly trickling water into his mouth from a bottle. None of it is getting consumed— it’s all dribbling over the seam of sealed lips and pooling straight onto the floor.

“He’s gotta stay hydrated!” Rafayel huffs, and the water bottle remains tipped, spilling.

You storm over and snatch it out of his hand. “Not like that!” Your phone lifts to your ear. “Zayne, I gotta go, sorry. Talk soon. Love you lots.” Then you end the call. “Really, Raf?”

The artist is sat on the floor now, and his face is unrepentant. Smug, even.

“Why would you do that?” you grumble, taking a seat by Valko yourself. Softly, you sweep away the excess water from his lips with your thumb.

Rafayel just smiles, lazy and warm. He leans back on his elbows so he can catch the breeze wafting over from the patio doors. “You sounded stressed on the phone, cutie. Before you came in. Valko’ll be okay. Don’t worry, yeah? I’m sure our dear doctor had some good advice, but you really should have more faith in your trusty sidekicks.”

“Is that right, hm?”

“Yup. Sylus is onto something right now, in fact. I’m watching our friend here in the meantime.”

“By drowning him?”

“Hydrating him. How nefarious do you think I am, cutie? I know water. Besides, I’ve got a website.” He wiggles his phone with a grin.

You roll your eyes, shuffling closer to Valko so you can move his head to your lap. As much as Rafayel teases, you know he and Sylus would part oceans for you— move mountains, too. They can act like finding a space for Valko in their hearts is just as biblical, as Herculean, but it’s easy, really. You managed, didn’t you?

“Fine. What else does your website say?” you ask with a hum, fingers threading through Valko’s hair. You like to scratch at the shorter parts.

“Number one, hydration,” Rafayel reads, “check! Number two… ‘walk them at cooler times of the day.’ Says a gentle walk through a shaded woodlands is safer than playing ball at the par—”

Water smacks him in the face.

He gawps, dripping.

The water bottle is in your free hand, fresh from being flicked at him. You flick it again, sending forth another slosh. “Just you wait until you get sick, Rafayel! Gonna stock up on aquarium guides. When I’m pouring fishie medicine down your throat, who’s gonna be laughing then, huh? Huh?!”

Rafayel laughs, trying to dodge the water; you’re thankfully limited by the heat-stricken man on your lap. “Don’t! We need—” he coughs as you land a splash in his mouth as he speaks— “ack! We need that for… pfffftt… hydration!”

You’re laughing too— trying to swing the bottle harder without turning Valko into collateral damage. “Stay still!”

You pull the bottle back, preparing an even bigger splash, but something stops you. Not mercy or conscience, no, but… something sweet tickling the periphery of your senses. Weird.

The room smells like chocolate.

Turning around, you see Sylus coming over with a baking tray in hand. It must be fresh out of the oven; he’s still sporting oven mitts. Though some of his hair has been tied back haphazardly in bunches (with colourful hair ties), some is plastered, damp on his forehead.

You sit up as much as you can, neck stretched like a meerkat. “That smells amazing, Sylus. What is that? What’ve you been up to?”

“Problem-solving, sweetie.” He tilts the tray juuuust enough so you can see what’s inside.

It’s brownies— or one, giant brownie, since he hasn’t sliced it yet— still hot, and undoubtedly gooey in the middle. The sight makes your mouth water. The ‘problem’ shifts on your lap.

A wrinkle at first: Valko’s nose scrunches, giving a shallow sniff. Then a deeper one; you can hear the chocolate-thick air drawn in once, twice. His tail starts wagging, soft against the floor.

He sits bolt upright, so quickly it startles you. “Is that brownies? Nice!”

“Wha—? Val, are you okay? Take it easy, you were just—”

“Bring ‘em over here! They’re fresh, right?”

Sylus trundles over like a butler who might just poison his master’s next meal. A quiet thwip of his Evol scores a line through the brownies, and it’s hard not to think about how that Evol can grip, asphyxiate, and break. Dark alacrity— you feel as though you’re watching a murder weapon slide through a birthday cake.

Valko grabs a brownie as soon as it’s offered. “Oh, mmm…” he groans, fangs sinking in, eyes rolling back. With his cheeks stuffed as they are, he’s more chipmunk than wolf. “That’s the stuff.”

“Val,” you frown, “you’re okay?”

“Mmhmm!”

“You didn’t… pass out, or anything?”

“What? No. Course not.” The brownie is polished off, and Valko is chewing, still, as he stretches out over the floor. He laps chocolate from his thumb. “Mmh, this is the life, huh?” And rolls out of the shade, into the sunlight. “Thanks, Skyler. You’re pretty cool, you know that?”

You blink in bewilderment. Rafayel grins ear-to-ear.

Oven-gloved and exhausted, Skyler is moments away from making the news.

You'd dutifully stayed home the first night, pacing back and forth across the living room as you waited for your watch to go off with an alert. You were on edge the entire time, your TV volume turned down low as the news broadcasters continued reporting on non-verified sightings and other rumors about the wanderer.

"Cutie, you're distracting me," Rafayel said. He was sitting on the couch, sketchbook in hand. You knew he had a painting that he should be working on instead, but he'd only shaken his head as he sat down. You'd told him you were fine, but Rafayel insisted on staying in the same room with you after Xavier had - predictably - fallen asleep on the couch.

If Zayne had been there, he would've insisted on you at least sitting down to conserve your energy, but he'd stayed at the hospital in case there was a mass attack and he was called into surgery. Caleb would've dragged you to bed too, but he was currently away on a mission for the Fleet. Sylus had returned to the N109 Zone for the night too, after one of his contacts had discovered something new about the protocores he'd recently purchased.

It was infuriating. Especially because you knew that Sylus would have been more likely to encourage you to go hunting with him than to stop pacing.

When Rafayel sighed loudly - the fake one, the one you knew he did for attention - you stopped pacing.

"Sorry, Rafayel," you said, taking a seat on the couch next to him.

As if sensing your presence, Xavier shifted in his sleep, resting his head on your thigh mid-dream as he'd done dozens of times before. Rafayel smirked as he turned to a fresh page in his sketchbook, quickly outlining the scene of you and Xavier together as you watched him work.

It worked to calm your nerves for a while, until you found yourself checking your Hunters watch ever few minutes.

"If you check that thing one more time," Xavier said, voice half-slurred with sleep, "I'm going to tear it off you and hide it somewhere."

You let out a deep sigh as you threaded your hand in Xavier's hair, combing through it to both lull him back to sleep and give your hands something else to do.

When the sun finally rose and you and Xavier both got a notification that your standby status had been released, you'd crawled into bed exhausted. The stress and anxiety of waiting had drained you but you struggled to fall asleep.

There was something nagging at you that you couldn't pinpoint. Something that was calling to you to move, to go, to do anything other than sit in your house and wait.

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The next night was worse.

"Kitten-"

"There's no use," Rafayel said, cutting Sylus off. "She's going to keep pacing until their watches go off."

Sylus had settled into one of the armchairs, resting his chin on his hand as he watched you. You'd resumed your pacing as soon as the lockdown started, checking your watch every few minutes like your heart would stop if you didn't. When Xavier had tried changing the channel to a non-news station, you'd snapped at him so loudly that even Rafayel had glared at you until you apologized.

Your boyfriends let you pace for an hour before Sylus stood and blocked your path. When you glared up at him, he rested his hands on your shoulders and squeezed them gently until he had your full attention.

"What do you need, kitten?" Sylus asked.

You shook your head, sliding out of his grasp so you could resume your pacing.

"I need the analysts to find something concrete so I can go hunt this thing," you said.

Sylus didn't move out of your way, so you had to sidestep him to continue pacing in the same space. You could've sworn you heard him chuckle after the seventh or eighth pass you'd made, before he finally conceded.

You didn't pay him any attention as Sylus left the room, pulling his phone out to make several calls. When he returned a half hour later, Sylus looked a little too pleased with himself as he picked you up and sat down in the armchair with you in his lap.

"Mephisto is out looking, sweetie," he said, kissing your temple. "The moment he has something to report, I'll go hunting with you. Try to get some rest until then."

You'd shrieked in protest as he lifted you, fighting him until his words sank in. You hated how he'd so easily manhandled you, but you only pretended to pout. Sylus's lap was far too comfortable and knowing he had Mephisto out hunting on your behalf helped settle some of your nerves. You weren't sure if you got any sleep, but you did close your eyes and rest.

When the sun rose and your watch hadn't triggered an alert, you met Xavier's gaze to see find him as equally confused as you.

Two nights of searching and no leads?

"Mephisto thinks the beast is hunting something," Sylus said, brushing your hair back from your face as you stretched in his lap. "If your Hunters Association hasn't figured out what yet, we can go hunt together tonight."

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The third night, Xavier went hunting.

Alone.

He'd been called into HQ in the middle of the afternoon, specifically by Captain Jenna. You'd tried following him, meeting him at the door as you finished buckling the last piece of your uniform. Even if Xavier was the only one who was called in, you refused to be left out while your Hunter partner was called in. Xavier had frowned at you, but hadn't stopped you from tagging along.

No, he'd let Captain Jenna do that.

"You're on standby tonight," she said, her voice that steady tone that was somehow both authoritative and maternal. "Xavier will be going in alone for the first few hours as he's the only one who is fast enough to follow the wanderer."

You remained professional the entire time, despite wanting to tear your hair out. You knew it wasn't Xavier's fault, that he hadn't been the one to make this decision. Sending Xavier alone even made sense, letting the team member who could literally teleport go in first.

But that didn't mean you had to be okay with it.

Thankfully - for Rafayel - Zayne and Caleb were both home that night. When you returned home, Sylus had kissed your cheek, promising to go with you later once you'd heard an update from Xavier. Unfortunately, Caleb had overheard him.

"Absolutely not," Caleb said, pointing at Sylus. He'd been chopping vegetables in preparation for dinner but now he was wielding the knife at the two of you like a slasher from a horror movie. "No one is going out hunting. Not even you, Mr. Invincible."

"He's not invincible," you started, but Caleb cut you off.

"Doesn't matter when he acts like he is. No hunting tonight, period."

You made sad puppy dog eyes at Zayne, who was currently setting the table for dinner, but he only shook his head at you.

"I agree with Caleb on this. It's too dangerous. Let's wait until Xavier returns before we go charging out without a plan."

With the other three home, Rafayel had retreated to his art studio to work on his latest painting. He'd claimed your nervous energy was "ruining his creative flow" or something, despite the fact that he'd literally sought your company the last two nights.

You tried not to dwell on his absence. You knew Thomas was on him again for another looming deadline and it also wasn't fair to the other three to pout just because Rafayel needed some space.

You'd been quiet all through dinner, half-internally scheming about how you could sneak out once everyone was distracted and asleep. Caleb hadn't given you a moment's reprieve though. The moment dinner was over, he'd swept you into his arms, claiming he required additional cuddle time after being gone for several days. You expected him to take you to his bedroom - each of you had your own personal spaces you could retreat to in the shared house - but instead he carried you to the sleeping room.

"Don't even think about sneaking out once I fall asleep," Caleb said, curling his body around yours once you were laying in the middle of the gigantic bed. "You wouldn't want to ruin our beauty sleep, would you?"

"Our?" you asked.

"Yes," Zayne said, joining you on the bed and curling up on your other side. "Our beauty sleep."

Even being sandwiched between their bodies, you felt antsy. You couldn't relax.

Your fingers tapped against Caleb's arm, your foot jiggled back and forth under Zayne's leg. You sighed so often that Zayne even made a joke about needing to check your lungs for respiratory distress.

"I had fully intended to just cuddle and sleep, pipsqueak," Caleb said, leaning up on one elbow to look down on you after the fourth time he'd tried stopping your fidgeting by holding your hand between his own and failed. "But I think you need a stronger intervention. What do you say, Zaynie?"

Zayne's hand was already sliding under your shirt, his Evol activating just enough for you to arch into his touch.

"I'd say serious intervention is needed," Zayne said, nibbling on the outer rim of your ear as you gasped.

Caleb captured your mouth in a kiss, immediately deepening it until you were rolling back into Zayne's embrace. You grabbed onto Caleb's sleep shirt, both to steady yourself and to tug him closer. He followed without hesitation, pinning you completely between their bodies.

It didn't take long before the three of you were naked and panting with need. Caleb and Zayne were completely dedicated to tiring you out, dragging as much pleasure from your body as they could.

Three orgasms later, Zayne had you in his lap, your legs caught on the outside of his as he fucked into you. Caleb held you in place, his tongue dragging from where you and Zayne were connected, through your folds, all the way to your clit. You cried out as he sucked it into his mouth, driving you to another orgasm.

"That's it, darling," Zayne said, turning your head so he could kiss you softly as you came down. He never stopped pumping into you, nor did Caleb stop licking your pussy. "Let us take care of you. You're doing so well for us. Can you give us another?"

Caleb dragged his mouth up your body to your breasts, flicking your nipples with his tongue as his fingers dragged back and forth against your clit.

"I didn't hear you, pips," Caleb said, pulling away just enough so you could see his wicked grin. "Was that a yes?"

You were already nodding, despite barely being able to hold your head up. Caleb and Zayne were a lethal combination when their shared goal was your pleasure and your muscles were already weak and protesting. But you weren't ready to stop just yet.

"Yes," you gasped, lifting your head just enough to meet Caleb's eyes.

"That's my girl," Zayne said, nipping at your shoulder.

"Milk his cock for me, pretty girl," Caleb said. "I want the two of you to come at the same time next so he can fill that tight little pussy of yours with his cum."

You and Zayne both groaned at Caleb's words, your pussy clenching involuntarily around Zayne's cock so hard that he had to grip your waist just to keep himself from coming then and there.

Caleb shifted until he was leaning over the two of you, pressing his hardened length against your folds to rut against your clit so you were trapped between them. He braced one arm on the headboard behind Zayne and you knew if you turned your head, you could see the two of them watch how well your body took everything they gave you.

As Caleb thrust against you, matching Zayne's movements inside you, you couldn't do anything but hold onto the two of them, gasping and moaning as they drove you to yet another peak.

You nearly burst into tears as your orgasm hit, every nerve in your body overly sensitive as you felt the waves of pleasure crash over you. Thankfully, your boys had always known just how far to push you and would never give you more than you could take.

Within a few strokes, they both finished too, Zayne's cum coating your insides while Caleb claimed your stomach and tits with his. They held you between them, pressing soft kisses against every inch of skin they could reach while they slowly massaged your limbs until you were steady enough to stand.

The anxious pull that'd plagued you for days dissipated just enough for you to lose yourself in their care and you let yourself fall into it.

By the time they'd helped you clean up in the shower, Rafayel and Sylus had already changed the sheets and were waiting for you in bed. You fell asleep before they'd pulled the blankets up around you, your body finally succumbing to the exhaustion of being on edge for days.

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When Xavier returned home the next morning, you'd barely made it two minutes before you interrogated him.

"What was it? Did you find it? Is it dead? Are we still under lockdown?"

"Easy, cutie," Rafayel said, pulling you into his lap so your Hunter partner could collapse into a chair. "Let him breathe. He just walked in the door."

You huffed in frustration, which only drew a laugh out of both of them.

"It's not like any wanderer I've seen before," Xavier said, a few minutes later after he'd drank the water Sylus had given him. "I chased it out of the city, but I couldn't get close enough to fight it properly. Whatever it's looking for is definitely in the industrial district at the edge of town though. It kept circling back towards that area."

You nodded along, a plan already forming in your mind.

"I sent my report in to Captain Jenna. She'll have a new plan of attack later this evening."

"One that involves a team, I hope?" Zayne asked, sliding a breakfast plate in front of Xavier.

He nodded and took several bites of food before he continued.

"It's going to take an organized effort to corner it. Now that we've narrowed down where it is and that I can herd it, the analysts will come up with a better plan for us tonight."

You happily drank your coffee, nearly kicking your feet with glee at the prospect of an entire team going out to hunt the beast. An entire team that would include you. Staying in the house for another night and doing nothing was slowly torturing you.

You'd do whatever it took to take out the wanderer out that night, as long as it meant the lockdown ended.

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The industrial district had never been what you would call welcoming, but without any of the usual workers around, it felt downright creepy.

You and a dozen other Hunters were stationed around the district at various intervals, waiting for the analysts to provide information on the wanderer's current whereabouts. Despite it running in similar patterns the last three nights, no one had seen it yet.

Not the drones, not any civilians, not even Mephisto.

Something wasn't right.

"All units, check in," Captain Jenna said, her voice chiming in through your Hunters watch.

You listened to your coworkers report their positions and status one at a time, joining in with your own and an "all clear" when it was your turn.

That pull you'd felt the last few days was only stronger. What was happening? Why was your gut telling you to leave your post and walk farther away from the district, towards the woods lining the edge of town?

After over an hour of patrolling your area without any sightings - in your sector or anyone else's - you gave in to it.

Thank goodness Xavier was positioned elsewhere tonight, or he'd be dragging you halfway home by now.

You walked half a mile before the pull suddenly changed directions, moving back towards the factories. You were already reaching for your firearms, all senses on high alert as you moved as stealthily as possible.

As you approached an alleyway, you heard the faint sound of grunts and gravel crunching under shoes. You didn't wait for backup, already turning the corner, guns drawn.

A large, wolf-like wanderer was jumping and slashing at two others nearby, the glint of its eyes the unmistakable sharp blue of a protocore.

You didn't hesitate before running directly at it, firing at the wanderer to get its attention.

It rounded on you immediately, baring its teeth as it growled and lunged. Before it could reach you, one of the others swung a large claymore and blocked the wanderer's path.

You darted out of the way, rolling sideways to get a clearer shot before you fired again. You landed half a dozen shots in its neck and belly before it pivoted, running up the side of the building and onto the roof away from you. The damn beast had moved so fast it had only been a blur. No wonder Xavier had struggled to follow it.

"Shit," the man with the large sword said.

You barely blinked before he bounded up the building after the beast, leaving you standing in the alley with the other human.

"I'm with the Hunters Association," you said, your voice low and calm. It was a practiced speech you'd repeated hundreds of times when dealing with civilians in the wake of a wanderer attack. "If you'll come with me I'll escort you to-"

The stranger lunged at you then, swiping at you with a knife you hadn't seen.

You ducked, blocking the knife with one of your guns as the attacker swung at you again. Your guns were useless against humans, but you still knew how to wield them in a melee attack. You slammed your other gun into the attacker's elbow, shocking him into dropping the knife. You were about to land a punch to his gut or his face when he dropped, swiping at your legs with a swift kick before he was up and running. You watched him sprint up the side of the building after the other wanderer.

You holstered your weapons, cursing this wanderer and all the trouble it'd brought as you tried calling for backup. But your Hunters watch was useless, showing nothing but static. It couldn't even get a decent enough signal to tell you what time it was.

Well, fuck it. You were on your own for now.

Not wanting to waste any more time, you raced down the alleyway, hoping you could track the wanderer's movements from the street. You really, really hoped that the interference on your watch was just from the nearby buildings and not the wanderer itself, or you were going to be in very big trouble.

You saw wanderer three blocks down. It was still on the roof, fighting the guy with the large sword as the other person - not a civilian, though also not a Hunter - quickly caught up to them. You thought they were there to fight the wanderer too, until you saw them raise another knife as they approached the tall swordsman from behind.

You sprinted as fast as you could. When you realized you weren't going to make it in time, you yelled as loudly as you could.

"Behind you!"

The swordsman flicked his giant weapon at the last moment, blocking the attacker's knife just before it would've driven into his neck.

You sprinted up the fire escape and onto the roof with them. You thought you saw the swordsman grin wildly at you before he swung a fist into his attacker's face.

You drew your firearms again as you took in the full scene. The wanderer was prowling around the edge of the roof, clearly waiting for an opportunity to lunge at one of you again, but you didn't give it a chance. You pulled the triggers, catching the wanderer in the face with several shots before it turned its attention on you again. You never stopped shooting, aiming for its chest in an attempt to find a weak spot to take it out.

The wanderer leaped towards you, its body a dark blur you couldn't follow until you felt its claws dig into your shoulder. You cried out as you whipped around, firing at where you thought the beast had landed.

Your flurry of shots must have finally hit something vital, as it hit the ground and collapsed. You watched it turn into ash before a bright blue protocore hit the ground.

One down, you thought.

You whirled around, looking for the other attacker, but he was gone. The swordsman was there instead, leaning against his giant claymore with his head cocked to the side as he watched you.

Sensing no immediate danger, you glanced at your arm and tried to take in the damage. The wanderer had torn through your skin and into the muscle, and you quickly tore at your sleeve until you could tie a makeshift bandage around the worst of it. It helped, but your arm was still weakened and you knew the blood loss would eventually catch up to you.

You needed to get out of here, and fast. One glance at your Hunters watch and you saw that it still wasn't working. Great. Well, first thing was first, you needed to secure the protocore.

You moved to pick it up, but it slid across the rooftop. Your eyes widened as you watched it fly in front of you, directly into the other man's hand. You half-expected Caleb to appear then, as the only other person you'd known who could manipulate objects in that way.

The other man was still watching you as he turned the protocore over in his hand.

"I'm with the Hunters Association," you said, striding towards him. You held your hand out for the protocore. "You can hand that protocore over to me now."

Despite the fact that the man was more than a foot taller than you and your shoulder ached, you held your chin high and did your best to sound as authoritative as possible, remembering all of the tips Sylus had given you about wielding power.

The man tossed the protocore up and down in his hand like it was a toy before he pocketed it.

"Why should the Hunters Association have it?" he asked. His voice was deeper than you'd expected, like it belonged out in the wilderness, in a cave or in the mountains somewhere. "I found it first."

You squared your shoulders as you looked at him, doing your best Zayne impression to harden your expression.

"And I took out the wanderer, which means it's mine. Now hand it over."

The man grinned at you wide enough that you could see all of his teeth. Did he have actual fangs?

"No, I don't think so," he said. "I appreciate your help though. You should go get your shoulder looked at."

He turned away from you, moving towards the edge of the roof like he was going to jump down.

Fine, you thought. We'll do this the hard way.

You focused on everything you'd learned about fighting from Sylus and Rafayel as you ran towards the man. You aimed a punch at his head but he ducked, and you aimed for his knee instead. He quickly rolled away and you followed, not letting him retreat. You shoulder was killing you and you knew the movement would only worsen the injury, but it didn't matter.

You needed that protocore.

"Is that how it's gonna be?" he taunted, tossing his greatsword to the ground. "Let's go then."

Despite the man's obvious size advantage, you kept up with him, dodging and punching as you traded blows despite your injury. You'd never been so grateful that Xavier had forced you to train with both sides of your body as your dominant arm was weakening and you needed to switch stances. At one point, the man ran at the wall, using it as leverage to vault himself farther upwards.

It would've caught you off-guard if you hadn't trained with your boyfriends for so long.

You dodged out of the way at the last second, using the man's momentum against him to kick his legs out from under him as he landed. The moment he was on the ground, you were on top of him, pinning his arms with your full bodyweight.

The two of you were panting heavily as you held him down. Your arms held his wrists down while your knees pressed into his thighs. You leaned forward, making sure he wouldn't be able to twist out of your grasp.

You shoulder screamed in protest, but you ignored it, sending a silent apology to Zayne for the stress you were putting your body through. You glared down at the man, but he only looked up at you curiously, obviously delighted by his current position.

"For being so small, you're definitely a fighter," he said.

"Are you going to give me the protocore now?" you asked, ignoring his statement. "I've now won it twice."

The man smiled at you before glancing at his wrists which you were still holding in place.

"Little hard to hand it over when you're straddling me."

You refused to blush under his insinuation, pushing against him even harder to reinforce your point.

"Why don't you tell me which pocket it's in."

The man let out a small laugh. You could nearly see the gears turning in his head as he looked at the stars, before he raised his head to speak to you. Despite his wrists being pinned, he moved easily, leaning so close that he could almost kiss you.

"Let's make a deal, shall we? You let me-"

He stopped abruptly, his head turning slightly to the side, closer to your neck.

The movement was so sudden it set you on edge. What was he doing? Had the attacker from before returned? No, you would've heard him. This was a trap, that's all.

"Where is it?" you said, more forcefully this time.

When the man pulled away from you, there was something different in his expression. His eyes had gone wide and soft and his mouth was partly open as if in awe. When he looked at you, his eyes traced over your every feature, before he smiled.

"Left jacket pocket," he said.

You stared at him for a moment before you glanced down. His jacket - more of a leather vest, really - was splayed open not far from where your knee pressed into his thigh. Which meant that in order to grab the protocore, you'd have to let go of his wrists and potentially leave yourself open to a counterattack.

The man's expression never changed as he watched you, but you knew he was thinking the exact same thing.

"No funny business," you said, glaring down at him.

The man only opened his hands, wiggling his fingers as if he was proving he had nothing to hide and was fully surrendering. When you shifted your weight off of his arms by a fraction, you paused. The corner of his mouth quirked slightly, but he showed no other signs of movement.

Here goes nothing, you thought.

You shifted your weight so your knees were on either side of his waist so you could sit up properly. You quickly realized that you needed both hands to properly dig in his pockets - what kind of leather vest had so many pockets, there wasn't even that much fabric? - but he held completely still for the entire search, his eyes following your every movement with an intensity that felt more like reverence.

When you finally found the protocore, you studied it as it sat in the palm of your hand. There was a strange light to it and you turned it between your fingers. There was a small reflection which you quickly realized were slivers of metal threads running along its edges.

"That's weird," you said. You didn't even realized you'd said it out loud until the man answered you.

"Extremely. I've only seen a handful of other protocores like it and each of them had been purposefully tampered with. If you want to make a deal with me, I'd be happy to share information."

You were still studying the protocore when the man shifted underneath you, slowly sitting up until he was holding you in his lap. He'd leaned forward far enough to speak directly into your ear and you swore you heard him take a long, deep inhale before he spoke.

"Let me take it to my lab and examine it. You can even come with me and take the protocore when I'm done. I won't do anything to damage it."

At some point, your free hand had grabbed onto his arm to steady yourself. The same arm that was now wrapped around you, his large hand spread across your lower back, because you were sitting in his lap.

You scrambled off of him then, careful of the protocore, and took several steps away. How the fuck had that happened? Why hadn't your training kicked in the moment he moved towards you?

The man only held up both hands in surrender, his eyes still open and honest, like he was hoping you could see his secrets in them if you just looked hard enough.

"I'm sorry," he said, not moving from his position. "I didn't mean to scare you. You just…. remind me of someone and I reacted instinctively. I won't touch you again."

You nodded, not looking at him as you stowed the protocore away. Your fingers were slipping against your zippers from your blood loss and you realized you needed medical attention sooner than you expected.

But you couldn't get yourself to turn away from this man. Why couldn't you walk away from him?

When you'd taken several steps back but made no move to leave, the man spoke again.

"I'm going to stand up now and grab my sword. Is that okay?"

When you agreed, he was on his feet a moment later, retrieving his claymore from where he'd dropped it and slung it over his back. It was then you realized his weapon was nearly as large as he was tall. And he'd been swinging it with one hand.

Holy shit, how strong was he?

You glanced down at your Hunters watch again, only partially to hide your cheeks which you were now sure were red from something that was not pure exertion. You still had no signal, which meant you needed to start working towards your original post until you had enough signal to call for a medic.

"Come with me and we'll discuss this deal," you said, not giving yourself a chance to overthink it.

You didn't wait for him to respond before you were walking towards the edge of the roof. You were halfway down the fire escape before you realized he wasn't behind you. Had he really not wanted to make the deal after all? Was it all just a rouse? What the hell was-

"Are you always this slow? Or is it just because you're so small?"

The man had already made it to the ground! How? Nevermind, you didn't need to know. You just needed to get out of here and get help.

You ignored his verbal jab as you reached the bottom, already walking as you pointed in the direction of your patrol zone.

"My post was a few blocks that way. Once I get a signal, we can-"

You didn't get another word out before you saw the man double-over. You were at his side immediately, eyes widening as you realized he was clutching his stomach. You could see blood seeping between his fingers and you gasped. He was bleeding.

"What-"

"Those motherfuckers," the man gasped, his head whipping around as he looked for something. "Goddamn rooftops."

You followed his gaze to see a glimpse of someone at the edge of the roof one building away. You thought you saw a reflection of light before your new ally was pinning you against the wall, covering your body with his as your attacker fired several shots at you.

The man barely looked up before he flicked his wrist and you heard a yell from the rooftop. You'd known Sylus long enough to recognize the sound someone made when they were gravely injured. And yet this man - who'd been shot in the stomach! - had barely made a noise when he'd been shot and had used his waning strength to protect you.

"Change of plans," you said, "we're going to the hospital first."

The two of you moved as fast as you could down the street, as you tried to staunch the bleeding in his stomach while also keeping an eye on the rooftops for any other attackers. Thankfully, you didn't have to go far.

A familiar car pulled up in front of you before you made it another block. Sylus had already opened the back door with his Evol and you saw Zayne waiting in the backseat, his emergency medical kit open in his lap.

"Get in," Sylus said.

You helped the man into the backseat before you slid into the front and Sylus was gunning the engine. You could hear Zayne talking to the man, but you were struggling to focus as your adrenaline crashed. As if noticing your state, Sylus reached for you, wrapping one arm around your shoulders so he could add pressure against your shoulder wound.

"No hospital," the man said. Despite his earlier bravado, his voice had weakened significantly since you got into the car and you felt panic rising in your chest.

You turned around and saw Zayne had cut the man's shirt open, revealing a bullet hole and a significant amount of blood. You didn't have enough medical knowledge to know how bad it was, but you knew gut wounds were never good.

Based on Zayne's grim expression, you knew he'd been trying to convince the man to go to Akso for a while now.

"Okay," you said, turning in your seat so you could more easily talk to him. You reached for him, ignoring Sylus's grunt of disapproval as you shrugged off his wound care efforts so you could press your fingers into the man's knee to steady him. "No hospital. Can you at least tell us your name?"

Zayne spoke to Sylus in a low voice as he added more and more gauze to the man's wound, each only taking a few seconds before they were soaked through. You were vaguely aware of Zayne saying something regarding a private medical facility and what equipment was available, but you forced your full attention on the bleeding man in Sylus's backseat.

He met your eyes and smiled then, a real, toothy smile that warmed something in your chest you hadn't realized had been cold.

"Valko. My name is Valko."

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆｡☁︎｡ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆｡☁︎｡ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆｡☁︎｡ ﾟ｡⋆

The glow of the television washes the living room in soft, shifting light, some familiar comfort show murmuring in the background as you sink deeper into the corner of the sofa. The apartment still carries that faint in-between feeling that always follows a trip, your half-unpacked suitcase sitting by the wall, your carry-on slouched near the entryway. You scroll through Moments without really seeing much of it, your thumb moving on autopilot as photos and captions blur together, and when your eyes flick to the time in the corner of the screen, a quiet sigh leaves you – it’s past midnight. You only got back yesterday, but it annoys you that your body still refuses to remember what time zone it belongs to.

With a small frown, you toss your phone beside you, only to reach for it again a few seconds later. Sleep feels nowhere near, but so does doing anything useful. Your gaze drifts back to the screen, catching on the photo you posted from the trip a few hours ago. For a moment, you just stare at it, thumb hovering near the comments before you see a new notification at the top of your screen, and your breath catches.

Valko.

You stare at his name for a second before tapping on the message, your pulse giving one traitorous flutter as the chat opens.

‘Why are you still up??’

Your finger lingers above the keyboard, a smile already tugging at your lips, before you type back.

‘Why are you up?’

His reply comes quickly.

‘I asked you first.’

A quiet laugh slips out of you.

You shift further into the corner of the sofa, glancing toward the television even though you are no longer paying attention to whatever scene is playing out on the screen.

‘I’m still a little jet-lagged. Can’t sleep.’

For a few seconds, nothing happens.

Your thumb brushes the edge of your phone as you stare at the screen, suddenly wondering whether that sounded too flat. Maybe you should have added something else. Maybe –

Another message appears.

‘Then can I come over and keep you company?’

You sit up so quickly the blanket pooled over your legs slips halfway to the floor.

For a moment, you can only stare at the words – it’s such a simple message, but the thought of Valko here, in your apartment, at this hour, sends a rush through you that makes it impossible to stay curled up on the sofa like nothing happened.

You try to sound casual as you type back.

‘Sure.’

His answer appears almost immediately.

‘I’ll be there in twenty.’

Your eyes widen.

Twenty?

You glance down at yourself, at the pajamas you changed into after your shower. You push yourself off the sofa, hurrying to the bathroom to make yourself more presentable.

By the time you step back into the living room, changed into your new loungewear – an oversized sweater and a pair of shorts – and a light layer of makeup, your heartbeat has still not quite calmed down.

And then you nearly jump out of your skin.

There, just beyond the glass, Valko is already waiting outside on the balcony.

Your hand flies to your chest before you let out a quiet breath, your nerves settling almost as quickly as they spiked. What did you expect? Of course he used the balcony again, like it is a perfectly normal substitute for a front door.

You step closer and slide the door open. Before he can even get a word out, you point toward the entryway and try your best to sound serious.

“You need to immediately take off your shoes and put them by the front door like any other normal person would.”

A grin pulls at his mouth, and a soft chuckle slips from him as he steps inside. “Is that so?”

“Yes,” you say, with as much dignity as you can manage, even though you already feel far too giddy to properly stay in character. “Those are the rules.”

He does exactly as he’s told, walking over to the front door to slip off his shoes and leave them neatly where they should be.

You don’t really get a chance to say anything before he closes the distance between you and pulls you into a hug.

It’s warm and almost a little too tight, the kind of hug that steals your breath for a second, but you don’t care, not when his arms are around you like this. You tuck your face against his chest, breathing him in, and something in your chest loosens.

You missed this. Two weeks wasn’t even that long, but the moment his arms close around you, it hits you how much you’d been craving this exact feeling. The solid warmth of his body, the way he hugs like he means it, the faint familiar scent of his skin.

You squeeze him a little tighter, hoping he can’t feel how reluctant you are to let go.

“I missed you,” he murmurs against the top of your head.

A smile presses against his chest.

“I’m happy to hear that,” you say softly.

His arms loosen just enough for him to pull back and look at you, though his hands still linger at your waist.

“Only happy to hear that?” he asks, head tilting just a little. “You didn’t miss me at all?”

Your heart gives another hard, hopeless thud.

With the way he is looking at you, warm and teasing and still standing too close, it’s hard to hold onto any version of coolness for very long. So you say nothing, only glance away as if that will somehow hide the fact that your pulse is stumbling all over itself.

When he finally lets you go, the loss of his warmth feels immediate. His gaze flickers over you. It’s brief, almost nothing at all, but you catch it anyway – the quick dip of his eyes, the split-second pause that lingers just a touch too long before he looks back up.

Heat stirs low in your stomach.

If he noticed the bare stretch of your legs beneath the sweater, he does not say it.

Then his gaze drifts past you, over the living room.

You follow it, and only then do you properly take in the small signs of the last two days still scattered around the apartment. It’s not a mess, but it’s enough to make you realize, with a small jolt of horror, that while you had been busy changing, fixing your face, and deciding whether those shorts were too much, it had not once occurred to you to make the place look more presentable.

Valko glances back at you, amusement already tugging at his mouth. “You really made yourself at home.”

You stare at him.

Then at the open suitcase, then back at him.

“I – ” You stop, because there is truly no dignified recovery from this. “I just got back.”

His laugh is soft and boyish, bright with amusement, and before you can fumble your way into a proper defense, his hand comes up to rest lightly on your shoulder.

“I’m teasing,” he says. “Relax.”

Something in your chest loosens at once, though the embarrassment still lingers warm at your cheeks.

“You’re annoying,” you mutter, without much conviction.

He only grins and walks past you toward the sofa, entirely too pleased with himself, and drops down onto it, one arm spreading along the backrest.

You stand there for a second, trying not to think about the fact that he’s in your apartment, at almost one in the morning. Instead of sitting down beside him, you linger on your feet and start folding the few clothes left draped over the armchair, because you need something to do with your hands.

For a little while, the conversation comes easily – you ask him what he was doing up so late, and he tells you he got caught up researching something and lost track of time, and then he asks you how the trip was. As you smooth one of the shirts between your hands, you tell him that it was beautiful, that you enjoyed it more than you expected, that you and your friends managed to explore a few cities in between all the wedding preparations, though by the end of it you were exhausted from helping with everything. Even so, you admit that it had been worth it, because seeing your friend that happy, that deeply in love, had made all of it feel strangely tender and a little overwhelming in the best way.

The words trail off there for a second, because the memory rises too clearly, your friend smiling through tears, music drifting through warm evening air, the soft gold of the lights, the feeling of standing just outside someone else’s happiness and being moved by it anyway. You pause with the folded fabric still in your hands. When you look up, Valko is already watching you in that way of his that makes it seem like he notices more than he lets on.

So you shake yourself out of it before the moment can linger too long, and with a softer laugh, you steer the conversation somewhere lighter, telling him that the food alone had probably been worth the trip, and that you would have enjoyed it even more if you had not managed to spill some of it on your dress before the night was over.

“That’s a shame,” he says. “You looked beautiful.”

A soft flutter moves through your stomach, and for a brief second, you remember the small rush of giddiness you felt earlier when the notification popped up and you saw that he had liked the photo. Heat rise to your cheeks. “Thank you,” you murmur.

You clear your throat softly and glance toward the suitcase.

“Oh, right,” you say. “I almost forgot.”

His brows lift a little as you cross the room and crouch beside the half-open case, pushing aside a few last things until your fingers find what you had tucked in carefully. When you straighten again, you are holding a small sachet of dried flowers and a box of chocolates.

Valko watches you come back toward him, his expression shifting into mild confusion. “What’s that?”

You stop in front of him and hold the two things out. “A gift for you,” you say, “The flowers are from a little shop near where we stayed,” you explain. “They smelled really good, and they made me think of you. And the chocolates are from a local chocolaterie.”

A quiet breath leaves him, almost like a laugh, though there is something more touched than amused in it.

“That’s... really nice of you,” he says. “Thank you.”

You shrug. “It’s nothing.”

He shakes his head. “It’s not nothing.”

Before you can answer, he reaches for you.

His hand catches your wrist gently and tugs you closer, and the next thing you know, you are half stumbling onto the sofa as he pulls you down beside him and gathers you into another hug, and a startled little laugh slips out of you.

His cheek brushes your temple, and then his lips do too. “You’re sweet,” he murmurs.

For a moment, you simply let yourself stay there, tucked against him on the sofa.

“So,” he says, leaning back, “are you feeling sleepy yet?”

You shake your head. “Not at all. I’m wide awake.”

His gaze lifts toward the digital clock on the wall, and the faint crease that appears between his brows makes you want to laugh a little. “It’s past one,” he says, glancing back at you. “That’s a problem.”

You tilt your head. “Is it?”

“Yes,” he says, with enough seriousness to make the corners of your mouth twitch. “It is. We need to get you to sleep.”

Your lips pull into a small pout. “But you said you wanted to keep me company.”

His expression softens with amusement. “I do want to keep you company, but you should really get your sleep sorted out.”

The pout lingers, growing just enough to make him narrow his eyes at you like he already knows you are about to be difficult on purpose.

“So you said you missed me, and now you’re trying to get me to go to sleep. Rude.”

Valko looks ready to answer right away, but then he stops. His mouth closes again, and something shifts in his expression – a glint of mischief appears in his eyes so suddenly and so familiarly that you know you’re in trouble.

“Oh,” he says slowly, his grin beginning to spread, “so that’s what this is?”

Heat starts rising before you even know where he is going with it.

“Are you saying you missed me too?” His smile widens. “You just want to spend more time with me. Is that what you’re saying?”

Your whole face goes hot.

For a moment, you can only stare at him, feeling the burn spread across your cheeks as your mouth opens and closes once, then again, with absolutely nothing useful coming out. Valko’s grin only widens at your silence, clearly delighted with himself, and before he can say anything worse, you reach up and grab his cheeks between your fingers, squishing them without mercy.

“Ow, ow, ow,” he protests, though the laugh in his voice ruins any real attempt at sounding injured. “No need for violence!”

You let go, trying to look far less flustered than you feel, while he rubs at his cheeks with both hands and gives you a faint little pout that does nothing to make him less smug.

“Well,” you say, refusing to let him have the last word so easily, “you’re awake at this hour too, so why don’t you go to sleep?”

He leans back into the sofa, still rubbing one cheek as if you have truly wounded him, and lets out a thoughtful hum. “You know,” he says after a moment, “you’re right. The research I was doing didn’t help. My brain is still working through it, so I should probably try to relax too.”

His gaze drifts around the apartment then, over the sofa, the blankets, the cushions, and when he looks back at you, there is something almost casual in the way he says, “I can stay here, if you want. I can sleep over and take the sofa. Your apartment is cozy, after all.”

Your heart gives a quick, sudden flutter.

Then he pauses, glances toward the half-open suitcase by the wall, and adds with a grin, “Even with all this mess around.”

You smack his shoulder and he only laughs, like he had been waiting for exactly that reaction.

“Well,” you say, trying, and failing, to hide your smile, “if you think the sofa will be comfortable enough, then sure. You can stay over.”

Before he can find something else to tease you about, you pat your hands against your thighs and start to stand up. “Okay, then,” you say sweetly, already turning away. “Goodnight.”

Valko’s hand catches your waist before you get more than halfway up, stopping you without any real effort. A soft, amused laugh escapes him, like he knows exactly what you’re doing.

“No, no, no,” he says, gently pulling you back down beside him. “Now we both have to help each other fall asleep.”

You glance at him, unable to keep your smile from slipping through. “Oh, so that’s how it is?”

“That’s exactly how it is.”

Valko grabs the blanket you’d been using and spreads it over both of you. “We can watch whatever you had on,” he says, nodding toward the TV.

You settle deeper into the sofa, close enough that your knee brushes his beneath the blanket. For a while, neither of you says much. Then, slowly, his arm slips along the back of the sofa and curls around your shoulders, drawing you gently against his side – and you can’t help but lean into him.

At one point, you see him nuzzle lightly into the blanket – that sweet, familiar habit of his that always made you smile.

The episode plays on. A few small comments pass between you, easy and low, but gradually his body grows heavier against yours. His head tips until it rests lightly on top of yours, and his breathing slows into deep, even breaths.

You go still, listening.

A smile tugs at your lips when you carefully tilt your head to glance up at him.

His eyes are closed.

So much for his very serious plan.

Carefully, so you do not jostle him too much, you lift a hand and give his arm a small nudge. “Hey,” you murmur. “You’re gonna hurt your neck like that.”

He makes a soft sound first, then shifts against you, his cheek brushing against your hair before his eyes crack open only halfway. There is a moment where he looks thoroughly confused, caught between sleep and waking, and then his brows draw together faintly as if he is trying to remember where he is.

“Hey…” he mumbles, voice drowsy. “I’m supposed to be the one helping you sleep.”

“You’re doing a terrible job,” you whisper back, smiling as you say it.

He exhales a sleepy, half-formed laugh and instead of pulling away, sinks closer, his arm tightening around you.

You stay quiet for a moment, letting the comfortable silence settle between you. Then Valko’s voice breaks it, barely more than a murmur when he asks, “Did you miss me?”

The question is simple, stripped of any teasing. For a second, you just look at him – at his sleepy face, at the hopeful, searching look in his eyes.

“Yes,” you say softly. “I did.”

His arm tightens just slightly around you.

“I was really happy to see you tonight,” you add after a moment. “I know it was only two weeks, but it felt longer than that. And with everything getting busy again soon...” You trail off, then glance up at him. “I just wanted a little more time with you, I guess.”

Valko is quiet for a moment, his thumb brushing slowly against your side. Then he shifts slightly, turning more toward you. His gaze drops to your lips for a heartbeat before returning to your eyes, and the air between you feels suddenly heavier, sweeter.

His other hand lifts slowly, and when it settles against your upper back, the touch sends a small shiver through you. Then his hand slides higher, fingers spreading gently at the back of your head, cradling you there. You feel yourself drift closer, and he does the same.

Then his lips press against yours.

The kiss is soft and warm and careful. You melt into him. One of your hands holds onto the fabric of his hoodie, your body pressing closer of its own accord as happiness blooms through you so suddenly and so completely it almost feels unreal.

When your lips part, neither of you moves far.

Then he looks at you again, his gaze is softer than before but clearer too.

“I like you too much to pretend this is nothing,” he says, his voice soft and unguarded. He holds your gaze for another second. “Tell me if this is what you want too.”

Your answer comes easily. “I do.”

A small smile touches his mouth, sweet and a little disbelieving.

Then you lean in and kiss him again.

The hand at the back of your neck stays steady as he kisses you, and when your fingers slide from his chest to curl around the back of his neck, his breath catches softly against your mouth.

His mouth parts against yours, and when your tongues meet, the sensation is warm, slow, and so intimate it makes a deep shiver run through you. The slide is unhurried at first – soft, wet strokes that make heat bloom low in your belly. His tongue brushes against yours in ways that make your toes curl and your thoughts melt away. Then he gently catches your bottom lip between his teeth, giving it a soft, teasing nibble before soothing it with another slow pass of his tongue.

You make a small, helpless sound into his mouth, pressing closer, and he answers with a low hum that vibrates through you. The kiss grows deeper, more consuming, but never rushed – every stroke of his tongue leaves you dizzy, aching in the best way, your body melting even further into his hold.

When the kiss finally breaks, you stay curled against him, forehead resting lightly against his, your breaths still uneven.

Neither of you moves for a long moment.

Then you pull back to look at him. “The sofa’s not that comfortable. You can… sleep in the bed with me. If you want.”

His eyes soften, that small smile returning. “I’d like that. A lot.”

While he heads to the bathroom, you slip into your bedroom and freeze for a second. The bed is still a mess from earlier – clothes scattered everywhere from when you’d frantically tried on different loungewear before he arrived – your cheeks burn at the evidence of how much you’d wanted to look nice for him.

You move fast, scooping everything up in armfuls and jamming the pile into your closet. Then you quickly change into your own pajamas: a loose shirt and flowy shorts. From the back of your closet, you pull out the biggest oversized t-shirt you own, with a goofy graphic and a band’s name splashed across the front.

By the time Valko returns from the bathroom, you’re already settled on the now-tidied bed, heart fluttering.

You hold the oversized shirt out to him. “Here. It’s the biggest one I have.”

He takes it from you, eyes crinkling with amusement as he reads the front. “Nice choice,” he teases. “Didn’t know you were a fan.”

You roll your eyes. “Shut up and just put it on.”

Instead of stepping out, Valko stays right there in front of you. With that easy confidence of his, he reaches back and tugs the hoodie off in one smooth motion. The movement pulls his t-shirt up slightly underneath, revealing a glimpse of his toned stomach and the sharp cut of his hips before the fabric falls back into place. He peels that off too, and for a moment you forget how to breathe.

Broad shoulders, the hard strength of his arms and chest that you’ve felt against you so many times, now fully on display in the soft glow of your bedroom lamp. Your gaze traces the lines of his body before you can stop yourself, lingering on the way his muscles shift as he unfolds the oversized shirt, then dipping lower to the faint trail of hair on his lower stomach.

Then he unbuttons his jeans.

The soft sound of the zipper feels impossibly loud in the quiet room. He pushes them down his hips and steps out of them, leaving him in just his boxers. The fabric clings to the firm lines of his thighs and the unmistakable outline underneath, and your face burns. You know you should look away, but you can’t.

Valko catches you staring.

A knowing smile curves his mouth, “Enjoying the show?”

You immediately avert your gaze. “No.”

You turn off the last light and climb into bed.

He chuckles softly and finally pulls the t-shirt over his head. A moment later he joins you, pulling the blanket over both of you as he settles on his side facing you.

For a second, you just look at each other in the low glow of moonlight from the window. Then he reaches out, sliding an arm around your waist and drawing you closer until your bodies press together again.

“You okay?” he asks softly, the same careful warmth in his voice from earlier.

You nod, tucking your face against his chest, breathing him in. “Yeah.”

He presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head… then another to your forehead… then, when you tilt your face up, to your lips.

This kiss starts slow and sweet, like the first one, but the closeness of the bed changes everything. Your hands find his chest again, sliding over the soft, worn fabric of your own shirt on him. He tastes like toothpaste, and the warmth of his body pressed against yours under the covers makes your head spin. One of your hands drifts up to the back of his neck, fingers threading gently into his hair, while his arm tightens around your waist, pulling you even closer until your legs tangle together.

A soft sound escapes you when his hand slips beneath the hem of your shirt, palm warm and broad against the bare skin of your lower back. The touch is gentle, almost reverent, but it sends a slow shiver through you all the same. He pauses there, thumb stroking small circles against your spine, as if checking whether you want him to stop.

When you press closer instead, he lets his hand explore further, sliding up the curve of your back, mapping the warmth of your skin like he’s been wanting to do this for just as long as you have.

The kiss breaks only so you can both catch your breath, but his mouth doesn’t go far. He trails soft, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, then lower to the sensitive spot just beneath your ear. When his teeth graze there lightly, your breath hitches.

“Still okay?” he whispers, voice husky now, lips brushing your skin with every word.

“Yes,” you manage, a little breathless. “Don’t stop.”

Valko makes a low, pleased sound deep in his chest. His hands slide to your waist, and with gentle strength he rolls you both over so you’re on top. He helps you settle, guiding your legs until you’re straddling his hips.

For a moment you brace yourself on your hands, hovering just slightly above him. Your heart is racing – nervous, excited, and suddenly worried about settling your full weight on top of him.

Valko looks up at you. One of his hands stays on your hip while the other smooths slowly up your back.

“Come here…” he murmurs. “All of you.”

When you hesitate for half a second, he adds gently, “Just relax.”

Carefully, you lower yourself until your full weight rests on him. The moment your chest presses fully against his, a quiet sigh escapes both of you. He feels so solid beneath you – the steady rise and fall of his breathing, the warmth of his skin, the firm strength of his body supporting yours so easily. Your legs settle on either side of his hips, and the intimate press of him right between your thighs makes heat bloom low in your belly.

Valko’s arms wrap around you immediately, one hand splaying wide across your lower back, the other sliding up between your shoulder blades to hold you closer. He nuzzles into the crook of your neck with a deep inhale, breathing you in.

For a long moment you just stay like that – bodies aligned, hearts beating against each other. Then he gently nudges your face with his, and you tilt your head down to meet him.

His lips move against yours, and when the kiss deepens, it happens gradually – tongues brushing, mouths opening wider, breaths growing a little heavier. The weight of you on top of him, the way your bodies fit together so completely, makes everything feel more intense. You can feel the hard line of him pressed right against your core, and the sensation sends little sparks of pleasure through you with every tiny movement.

Still a little shy, still a little uncertain, you roll your hips in one slow, experimental movement. The friction drags right where you need it most, pulling a soft, involuntary sound from your throat. Valko groans – low, rough, and completely unguarded – the sound vibrating against your mouth. His arms tighten around you instantly, and the way he pulls you down against him makes it clear just how much he felt that.

“Fuck…” he breathes against your lips. “Do that again.”

Emboldened by his reaction, you roll your hips again, grinding down against him. The pleasure sparks sharper, deeper. You can feel every inch of him through the thin layers of fabric separating you, and the way his body responds – the way he twitches underneath you – makes your stomach flutter.

Valko meets you on the next roll. He rocks his hips up into yours in a slow, deep rhythm, pressing firmly against your core with each movement. His hold on you never loosens – he keeps you flush against his chest, bodies moving together in a slow, rolling grind.

The kiss grows sloppier, hotter – tongues slide deeper, mouths open wider, little wet sounds mixing with your shared breathing. You feel his heartbeat hammering against yours.

“You feel so good on top of me,” he murmurs. “Keep moving just like that, baby.”

Valko’s hands are everywhere. One stays anchored on your hip, guiding your movements, while the other slips under your pajama shirt, palming the soft skin of your back, then sliding down to squeeze your ass. He pulls you down harder against him on every roll, making sure you feel exactly how hard he is.

Then his hand moves between your bodies.

He presses two fingers against the front of your shorts, right over your core. The moment he touches you, you realize just how soaked you are. The fabric is warm and damp, clinging to you, and the pressure of his fingers makes the wetness even more obvious. A flush of embarrassed heat rushes through you, but it only makes you ache more.

Valko groans deeply into your mouth, the sound raw. “You’re so wet,” he murmurs. He rubs slow circles over the soaked fabric, pressing just right against your clit through the layers. The sensation makes your hips jerk, a sharp little whimper escaping you.

He pulls back from the kiss just enough to look at you, breathing hard. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide, but there’s a flicker of hesitation there too. His throat works as he swallows, and when he speaks, his voice has the slightest tremble in it.

“Still okay?” he asks, fingers still gently pressing against your soaked shorts. He pauses, searching your face. “Can I…?”

You nod quickly, cheeks burning. “Yeah,” you whisper, barely audible. “Please.”

A soft, relieved breath escapes him.

He shifts just enough to reach between you. With one hand, he tugs his boxers down far enough to free himself, his cock springing up hot and heavy against your inner thigh. With the other, he hooks his fingers into the crotch of your pajama shorts and panties, tugging the soaked fabric to the side. The cool air hits your slick, exposed folds for only a second before the blunt, burning heat of his tip presses right against your entrance.

The slight sting of his girth against your sensitive opening makes you inhale sharply. Still, your thighs tremble as you fight the instinct to sink down all at once.

Valko’s eyes never leave your face. His breath is shaky, his grip on your hip almost bruising as he visibly holds himself back from thrusting up.

“Easy, baby,” he murmurs, voice low and strained. “Just relax… I’ve got you. Trust me.”

He rocks his hips up in the tiniest, careful movement, letting just the head slip inside you. The stretch is intense – a burning, aching fullness that makes your mouth fall open on a quiet, broken sound. You feel every thick inch as he slowly works you open, his eyes locked on yours the entire time, watching every flicker of sensation across your face.

Another shallow thrust, and he sinks a little deeper. His hand on your hip keeps guiding you down slowly, patiently, even as his own breath trembles and a low groan escapes his lips. You can feel how much he’s holding back – the tension in his arms, the way his fingers dig into your skin, the way his cock twitches inside you with the effort of going slow.

He presses his forehead to yours, nuzzling your nose, his voice dropping to a whisper between heavy breaths.

“Just a little more… that’s it. You’re doing so good for me, sweetheart.”

He keeps guiding you with those slow, shallow thrusts, working himself deeper. Each gentle push stretches you further, the thick heat of him dragging against your walls in a way that makes your breath hitch and your fingers curl against his shoulders. The slight sting is still there, but it’s slowly melting into something warmer, fuller, more overwhelming.

Finally, with one last careful roll of his hips, he bottoms out completely.

A soft, broken sound escapes you as he fills you to the hilt. Your walls flutter around him, clenching instinctively at the overwhelming sensation of being so completely taken.

Valko goes very still beneath you, breathing hard against your neck.

He whispers your name. “Are you okay? Does it hurt anywhere?”

You take a shaky breath, then nod against his shoulder, melting a little more in his embrace. “I’m okay,” you murmur, voice soft and a little breathless.

The tension in his body eases at your words. He pulls you even closer, if that’s possible, until there isn’t a single inch of space left between your bodies. Your breasts press against his chest, your stomach against his, your thighs snug around his hips.

“Just stay like this for a moment,” he whispers, lips brushing your ear. “Let me feel you… all of you.”

You melt into him completely.

He starts kissing you again – first pressing his lips to yours, tender and sweet. Then to your flushed cheek. Then along the line of your jaw. When he reaches your neck, he lingers there, nuzzling into the sensitive skin with a deep inhale, breathing in the scent of you as his lips trail soft, open-mouthed kisses down the side of your throat. Every kiss sends warm little sparks through your body, making you shiver and clench around him.

You feel completely surrounded by him. He makes you feel soft and safe and wanted in a way you’ve never quite felt before.

After a few long, still moments of just feeling each other, Valko starts to move.

He rolls his hips up in one slow thrust, pressing himself even deeper inside you. The drag of his thick length against your walls pulls a shaky moan from your throat. He does it again, and again – careful but steady, letting you feel every inch as he fills you completely with each roll.

You start moving with him.

Your hips begin to roll in a slow rhythm, grinding down to meet his upward thrusts. The pace is yours, and he lets you set it. Every time you sink down onto him, his cock grazes all the right spots inside you, sending sparks of sharp pleasure through your core. You can feel how wet you are – how your slick coats him completely, making every slide smoother, wetter, hotter. You angle your hips just right so that with every downward roll, your clit grinds against his pelvis. The added friction makes your thighs tremble. Pleasure builds fast and heavy, coiling tight in your belly with every movement.

You can’t stop looking at him.

Even in the low, dim light of your bedroom, he looks devastating. His eyes are heavy-lidded, dark with lust, but locked on your face like he doesn’t want to miss a single detail. His lips are parted and glistening, soft groans and quiet curses falling from them every time you sink down on him. His hair is slightly messy from your fingers, and the way his jaw clenches when you roll your hips harder makes your heart stutter.

You roll your hips faster, chasing that building pleasure with every grind of your clit against his pelvis and every deep stroke of his cock inside you. The slick sounds of your bodies meeting grow louder, wetter with every movement. Your walls flutter and clench around his thick length, coating him even more with your arousal as the pressure inside you coils tighter and tighter.

A broken moan of his name slips from your lips – “Valko...” – raw and needy. The sound of it makes your cheeks burn – you feel suddenly exposed like this, riding him so shamelessly, your voice sounding so desperate, your body moving on instinct. The wave of pleasure is cresting dangerously close, and the intensity of it makes you shy for a moment.

You duck your head, hiding your face in the warm crook of his neck, breathing in his scent as you keep rolling your hips.

You know Valko notices. Instead of pulling you back, he cradles the back of your head with one large hand. His voice is full of affection as he murmurs against your ear.

“You can stay right here, sweetheart. Just feel it… That’s it. Come for me.”

His words, the steady praise mixed with the way he keeps thrusting up to meet your rolling hips, push you right over the edge.

With one more deep grind of your hips, your orgasm crashes through you. Pleasure surges hot and overwhelming, ripping a muffled, trembling cry from your throat against his neck. Your walls clamp down hard around his cock, pulsing and fluttering. Your thighs shake, slick gushing around him as you come hard, soaking his length and pelvis. Valko groans deeply, the sound vibrating against your chest, and holds you even tighter, his hips still moving with yours – slow, deep rolls that help you ride out every last pulse of pleasure.

Your hips gradually slow, then finally still as the last ripples of your orgasm fade into a warm, glowing haze. You stay draped over him, breathing hard against his neck, your heart still racing wildly in your chest.

After a few long seconds, you finally gather the courage to lift your head from its hiding place. Your face is glistening with sweat, your cheeks are burning, your hair slightly messy as you meet his gaze. You’re still catching your breath, lips parted, eyes a little dazed.

When your eyes lock, the intense heat in Valko’s gaze melts into something more tender. A small, gentle smile curves his lips as he looks up at you like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever seen. The hand that had been cradling the back of your head slides forward to graze your cheek with his thumb, stroking it with slow affection.

“There you are…” he murmurs, voice low and fond. “Hi, pretty girl.”

He searches your face for a moment. “Are you okay?” he asks softly, thumb continuing its gentle caress. “Do you want to keep going?”

You feel a sheepish little smile tug at your lips. You nod, still a bit breathless, cheeks warming even more under his attentive gaze.

“Yes,” you whisper.

His smile deepens, soft and warm. “You want me to take over?”

You nod again, a little quicker this time. “Yes, please.”

Valko’s gaze lingers on your face for a moment, an almost reverent smile curving his lips as he takes in the sight of you in front of him.

“Just relax for me,” he whispers against your temple, pressing a lingering kiss there. “Tell me if it gets too much, okay?”

After you nod, Valko doesn’t waste another second.

He captures your lips in a slow, deep kiss as he begins to move beneath you. His hips roll up in long thrusts, driving his thick cock deeper into your soaked heat with every stroke. One arm stays locked around your back, pressing your chest flush against his, while his other hand keeps your shorts and underwear tugged to the side so he can fuck you properly.

He keeps kissing you through it – slow and messy, tongues sliding together as his pace gradually picks up. His breath grows heavier against your lips, and between kisses he whispers –

“Am I doing good? Tell me… fuck, I need to hear it.”

You’re already losing yourself in the rhythm of his thrusts, the way his cock stretches and fills you so perfectly. The answer slips out of you in a hazy, breathless mumble, half-coherent and soaked in pleasure.

“You feel so good…” you moan, voice breaking. “Fuck – you’re so big… filling me up so deep…”

Valko groans loudly at your words, the sound low and guttural. His grip on you tightens, and his thrusts grow a little harder, a little faster, driving up into you with more purpose. The wet slap of skin on skin grows louder as he fucks you deeper, his cock dragging against every sensitive spot with devastating precision.

“Yeah? You like how deep I’m fucking you?” he rasps against your lips, voice thick with lust. “You’re taking me so well… so wet and tight around my cock. I could stay buried in you forever.”

You whimper at his filthy words, clenching hard around him. He keeps that perfect rhythm, holding you close, kissing you like he never wants to stop, while his cock drives into you again and again, pushing you closer and closer to the edge once more.

You can feel him starting to throb inside you, his rhythm beginning to falter as he gets closer to the edge. His thrusts grow a little rougher, a little more desperate.

He must feel how you’re close too, because your hips have started moving on their own, grinding down to meet every thrust. His breath stutters against your mouth.

“You close again, baby?” he groans, voice strained and low. “Fuck… I can feel you squeezing me so tight.”

You nod frantically, whimpering as another wave of pleasure builds fast and hot. “Yes – I’m close… please, Valko, go faster – ”

He clenches his jaw, a deep, guttural sound escaping him as he tries to hold back. His hips snap up harder, but you can tell he’s right on the edge.

“I’m too close,” he rasps, almost apologetic, still fucking you deep and steady. “If I go faster, I’m not gonna last – ”

“It’s okay,” you breathe, voice trembling with need as you roll your hips down to take him even deeper. “It’s fine, just – don’t stop. Please.”

Valko lets out a wrecked moan, his grip on you tightening almost painfully. He buries his face in your neck for a second, breathing you in, then pulls back just enough to look at you with dark, desperate eyes.

“Where can I finish?” he asks, voice hoarse and filthy. “Where do you want me?”

Without hesitation, still grinding down on his cock, you whisper against his lips –

“Inside. I want you to come inside me.”

Valko’s control finally snaps.

With a deep, guttural groan, he buries himself to the hilt in a few hard, fast thrusts. You feel every powerful spurt as he fills you up, warm and wet, his cock twitching deep in your pussy while he keeps rolling his hips in sloppy thrusts, pushing his release even deeper.

The sensation of him coming inside you sends a fresh wave of heat crashing through you. You’re right on the edge again, but you stay still for him, letting him use you however he needs, your body soft and pliant on top of his as he rides out the last pulses of his orgasm.

Then he pulls back just enough to whisper against your lips, voice wrecked and breathless.

“Move, baby… don’t stop. Chase it. I want to feel you come on my cock again.”

You hesitate for half a second, worried it might be too much for him, but he doesn’t let you overthink it. His hands grip your hips firmly and start guiding you, encouraging you to roll and grind on him again.

You nod, eyes locked with his, and start moving.

You ride him through the mess, feeling his warm cum leak out of you with every roll of your hips, slick and obscene, coating both of you. His cock is still hard inside you, but you can feel how oversensitive he is now – the way he twitches and throbs helplessly with every movement, like it’s almost too much.

He meets your rhythm with shallow, desperate thrusts, one hand cradling the back of your head while the other grips your hip hard enough to bruise. His eyes stay locked on yours, heavy-lidded and burning, even as his breath turns ragged and broken.

Valko groans, low and wrecked. “That’s it… fuck, just like that,” he rasps, voice tight and strained. “Come on my cock, baby – you’re squeezing me so fucking tight… Good girl, so fucking good…”

It doesn’t take long.

Pleasure slams into you harder this time. You come with a trembling, broken cry, your walls clamping down around his oversensitive cock as another orgasm rips through you. The feeling of his cum leaking out around him with every pulse makes everything wetter, filthier, messier. Slick and cum mix between you as you grind down on him, thighs shaking violently.

This time you don’t hide your face. You stay right there, eyes locked with his, letting him see every second of it – the way your lips part on a silent gasp, the way your whole body shudders and tightens around him.

“Fuck – yes, baby… look at you,” he groans, voice slurred and desperate. “So fucking pretty when you come… good girl…”

His wrecked praise sends a fresh wave of heat through you, drawing out the pleasure for a few more trembling seconds. Then the intense peak of your orgasm slowly fades, leaving you utterly spent. You collapse completely on top of him, your cheek pressed against his chest as you try to catch your breath. Your body feels heavy, hot, and spent in the best possible way. Valko’s arms wrap around you, holding you close as he stays buried deep inside you, his cock still twitching with the last aftershocks. Neither of you makes any move to separate.

You nuzzle back into the crook of his neck, breathing in the comforting mix of his skin, sweat, and your own scent on him. His hands move slowly over your back in long, soothing strokes, fingertips tracing gentle patterns along your spine.

For a long while, you simply rest like that – tangled together, hearts slowing down, his warmth surrounding you completely.

Eventually, his voice breaks the comfortable silence, low and gentle against your ear.

“You okay?” he asks, still stroking your back. “Feeling alright?”

You manage a small nod against his neck, too tired and floaty to form proper words. A tiny, satisfied hum is all you can offer.

He chuckles softly, the sound rumbling through his chest beneath you.

After a few more quiet, peaceful minutes, you finally shift. You slowly push yourself up on shaky arms and lift your hips. The moment he slips out of you, a low, disappointed groan escapes Valko’s throat. The sound is so genuine that you can’t help but let out a soft, breathless chuckle.

“We should probably clean up,” you murmur, still smiling.

He nods, but there’s a playful pout in his expression. Before you can move away, he cups your face with both hands and pulls you down into a slow, sweet kiss. It’s softer than anything that came before – gentle, lingering, and full of affection. When he pulls back, his thumbs brush over your cheeks, and his eyes are warm and tender in the afterglow.

 “You feeling sleepy now?” he asks, a hint of playful teasing in his tone.

You let out a soft, embarrassed little laugh. The reality of everything that just happened is starting to settle in, making your cheeks warm all over again.

“Yeah… I think I am,” you admit.

He chuckles quietly, but then that familiar warm smile returns as he pulls you back down into his embrace. He presses a lingering kiss to the top of your head.

“I never want to let you go.” He whispers.