#thegroop

One night after the others had gone out to do who knows what, you found yourself curled up on the couch under a blanket. You scrolled through your phone, head resting against Isaac’s shoulder. Movie nights always ended like this: someone half-asleep on someone else, heads leaning together, legs thrown over laps. You’d stopped thinking twice about it long ago. But tonight, it felt different.

Your knee brushed his thigh, small and accidental. He didn’t move. Instead, his arm slid from the back of the couch around your shoulders, casual and easy but your heart jumped.

His other hand found yours under the blanket, thumb tracing circles over your skin. Your fingers twined instinctively with his

“Cold?” he murmured.

“A little,” you replied, barely aware of your racing pulse.

He pulled you closer, pressing his chest against yours. The movie faded into background noise. You could feel his heartbeat, steady but faster than usual, the tension in his jaw as he looked down at you. You tilted your head up. Bad idea.

He was already looking at you.

“Everything… okay?” he asked softly.

“Yes,” you whispered.

Slowly his lips found yours, soft and tentative at first. But you kissed back, and it didn’t stay soft for long. His hands slid over your back and waist, pulling you flush against him.

Your lips parted instinctively, and he deepened the kiss, letting his hands explore your back, tangling in your hair.

A soft moan slipped past your lips when his hand slid lower, grazing the curve of your hip, drawing him closer. You ground slightly against him, the motion innocent but charged with need. Isaac’s grip tightened, and he whispered against your lips,

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this…”

“Me too.” you softly breathed.

You tilted your head, letting him kiss the side of your neck, leaving a trail of heat that made you arch into him. Your hands roamed his chest, feeling the hard muscles under his shirt, every movement igniting something fierce between you.

The kisses grew desperate, hungry, and the couch became your private world. Every brush of skin, every lingering touch, sent jolts of electricity through both of you. Your hands and his tangled together, pulling, exploring, testing boundaries that felt dangerously exciting.

Slowly, he slid your shirt over your head, tossing it aside. His hands lingered on your hips, memorizing every curve.

“You… you look even better than I imagined undressed… you’re… wow. So damn pretty. I can’t stop looking at you.”

It wasn’t careful anymore. No uncertainty. The couch, the movie, the quiet night they all disappeared. It was just you and him, pressed together, touching, tasting, the tension of months of stolen glances and quiet longing exploding into heat and hunger.

After that night, everything changed. Moments between you two cropped up everywhere, electric and unmissable. Leaning against the counter in the kitchen while grabbing snacks, hands brushing over hips. Quick kisses in the hallway when someone passed, hearts hammering as you scrambled apart. Leaning over him while he streamed, teasing touches beneath blankets when the camera wasn’t on. And the shower- the hot water, low moans, whispered praise, his hands memorizing every inch of you.

“God, you’re perfect,” he’d murmur, voice rough as he pressed you against the tiles. “I can’t get enough of you.”

You’d melt into him, letting yourself want him in ways you hadn’t admitted even to yourself. And you could see it in his eyes, too: the way he lingered a second too long when you brushed past, the soft smiles when your fingers touched, the quiet protective gestures he didn’t even realize he did.

The teasing escalated. One afternoon, you were perched on the counter grabbing a snack when he appeared behind you. His hand slid down your waist, pressing you to him lightly.

“You’re distracting,” he whispered in your ear.

You smirked. “Am I?”

He chuckled, brushing his lips against your neck. “Always.”

Sometimes, the near-misses made it worse like the time Tanner nearly walked in while you two were tangled on the couch under a blanket. You froze, him holding you protectively, hearts hammering until the footsteps faded. Or the hallway presses, walls keeping your bodies close while your hands roamed surreptitiously. Every stolen moment made the desire intensely grow. Every shared laugh and tease deepened the connection between the two of you.

It was a Thursday morning when the universe decided the secrecy was over. You had stayed over again, tangled in Isaac’s sheets, head on his chest. His arm draped over you, protective and warm. You were too comfortable to move, too safe to care.

Then CRASH!

“Yo! Isaac?” Nick’s voice shouted from the hallway, followed by Larry and Tanner.

Before you could react, the door swung open.

And there you were curled up in Isaac’s bed, hair messy, half-asleep, completely exposed.

Nick froze. “Uh… what the—”

Larry couldn’t help but, hands on his knees. “Dude… are you serious? She’s in your bed?”

Tanner leaned against the doorway, smirking. “Oh man… I cannot believe we just walked in on this.”

You bolted upright, fumbling with the sheets. “Shit! Don’t look!”

Isaac reacted instantly. He grabbed you and pulled you back down, rolling with you so his body turned fully between you and the doorway. His back blocked everything. Now all anyone could see was him.

Nick blinked, voice incredulous. “Wait… she’s… are you two-?”

Isaac didn’t even hesitate. He tightened his arm around you, pressing a firm hand against your hip, and said bluntly, “Yes. She’s mine.”

Larry laughed nervously. “Okay… Wow. Damn, dude. Didn’t expect that.”

Tanner shook his head without another word, still smirking.

You buried your face in Isaac’s chest, mortified. “Please… just leave…”

Isaac pressed a quick kiss to your temple. “Out. Now. Close the door,” he said, voice low, protective, and final.

It shut.

The room fell quiet.

Isaac stayed there for a second longer, hovering protectively until he was sure you were okay. Then he eased back just enough to give you space.

You swallowed, heart still racing, and slipped out from under his arm. “I—I should get dressed.”

You swung your legs over the side of the bed.

Isaac stiffened.

“Hey,” he said quickly.

You paused.

He reached out, fingers catching your wrist. Not rough, just sure. He hesitated, jaw tightening like he was suddenly aware of how vulnerable he sounded.

“Come back,” he said. Softer now. “Please.”

You looked at him.

He didn’t pull you down. Didn’t assume. He just watched you, hand still there, eyes searching your face.

“I’m not done… talking to you,” he added quietly. “And I don’t want you thinking you have to run.”

Something in his voice made your chest tighten.

You nodded and climbed back onto the bed. He shifted immediately, turning toward you, one arm settling around your back like it belonged there.

“You okay?” he asked.

You nodded. Then, after a beat, “I’m… yours?”

He went still.

For the first time since all this started, Isaac looked nervous. His thumb brushed once against your side, a small, unconscious movement. He exhaled.

“I want to be,” he said honestly. “If you want that. I don’t want to assume anything.”

He hesitated. “So… do you want to make this official?”

He waited.

“Yes,” you happily answered.

Relief washed over his face. He let out a quiet breath, almost a laugh, forehead dropping gently to yours.