It was supposed to be a quiet movie night.
Noa had picked a romcom with zero sexual tension. Ren brought microwave popcorn and the cheap red wine they swore they'd never drink again. The goal was to keep things *normal*. Friendly. Sterile.
They made it through half the movie before Noa's head tilted onto Ren's shoulder.
Then his arm naturally dropped behind her back.
Then her hand, without thinking, found his knee.
Then the wine hit.
---
When Ren blinked awake, it was still dark outside.
His first thought: **Why is something warm on my thigh?**
Second thought: **Why can't I feel my right arm?**
Third thought: **Why is Noa breathing into my neck?**
He slowly tilted his head.
There she was. Curled into him like a cat that paid rent. Her leg draped over his. One arm tucked beneath his T-shirt, hand resting dangerously close to places that didn't believe in platonic roommates.
Worse—his body had **responded**.
Vigorously.
He stared at the ceiling, willing his pulse to chill out.
Do *not* move, he told himself. You wake her, you die.
Noa stirred.
His soul left his body.
She mumbled something, pressed her face deeper into his chest, then sighed. "Mm… warm…"
Ren squeezed his eyes shut. **Dead. I'm dead. Buried alive in my own awkward erection.**
He stayed frozen. For fifteen minutes. Which, in hormonal torment time, is an eternity.
---
Finally, she blinked awake.
She squinted at him. Then down.
Then back up.
Silence.
A *long* silence.
"Oh," she said flatly. "Well."
"Yup," Ren croaked.
"You're... uh..."
"Unfortunately, yes."
"I was cold."
"I figured."
More silence.
Then—**laughter**.
Noa buried her face in the pillow and shook with pure, uncontrollable giggles.
"I'm sorry!" she wheezed. "You look like you're having a medical emergency."
"I feel like I need a priest," Ren muttered.
"Or a cold shower."
"Not again."
They rolled away from each other, still laughing, still red, still very aware of what had just happened—and more importantly, *what didn't*.
---
Over breakfast, the awkward lingered like burnt toast.
"So," Noa began carefully, stirring her cereal. "This doesn't mean we're, like... attracted to each other, right?"
Ren poured coffee way too slowly. "Nope. Just body confusion. Proximity effect."
"Exactly. Totally explainable. Like, you're warm. And, I dunno, kinda tall."
"And you smell like expensive shampoo. It's basically science."
They both nodded way too hard, eyes locked on the table.
Then Noa asked, "Did you… *dream* anything?"
Ren nearly choked.
"NO," he lied.
She smirked. "I think I did."
He blinked. "Was I in it?"
"Maybe."
"Was I clothed?"
She shrugged. "You wanna know?"
"Nope," he said quickly. "I want plausible deniability."
They fell into silence again, this time laced with a different kind of tension—*the kind that knew exactly what was happening and still refused to admit it.*
---
Later that afternoon, Ren found Noa folding laundry on the couch. One of his T-shirts dangled from her hands.
"You stretched it," he said.
"You buy your shirts too tight," she shot back.
"You steal them because you like how they smell."
"No, I steal them because they're comfy."
"You smell like my cologne now."
"You *left* your cologne in the bathroom!"
They glared at each other for a moment too long.
Then, without meaning to, Noa smirked.
Ren tilted his head. "What?"
"You really think I smell like you?"
He leaned in slightly. "I think I can confirm it up close."
She raised an eyebrow. "That so?"
"I'm a very scientific man."
Their faces were *way* too close now.
Like, one-bad-decision-away close.
Then the microwave beeped.
They both jumped like teenagers caught making out by a parent.
"Popcorn," Ren blurted.
"Right. Obviously."
---
That night, Noa took the bed again.
Ren crashed on the floor. But before they turned out the lights, she asked, "Hey."
He looked up.
"If you want to, like, switch it up again... it's fine."
He stared at her. "What do you mean?"
She swallowed. "Just... maybe not sleep on the floor every night."
Ren hesitated.
Then smiled.
"I'm okay down here."
Pause.
"But if I *accidentally* roll up there in my sleep, don't blame me."
She smirked. "No promises I'll push you off."
They turned off the lights.
And in the quiet, both of them smiled in the dark.
Just a little too much.