The knock came just before noon. Mix's mother was still fussing with laundry. His father had gone for his usual quiet Saturday errands. Arm was in the backyard, pretending not to notice the tension humming through the walls.
Mix opened the door and immediately regretted it.
"Surprise!" his elder brother, Kane, grinned wide, arms stretched like some sitcom character. Right behind him stood Elna. Designer glasses. Lipstick like sharp fruit. Hand hooked around Kane's elbow like it had never belonged anywhere else.
"Kane," Mix said, too flat.
"Come on, that's all I get?" Kane swept in with Elna, dragging suitcases behind him like they owned the floor. "You didn't tell Mom I was coming? I wanted it to be a surprise."
"It is," Mix muttered. "Definitely is."
Elna gave him a polite once-over. "You've grown," she said like she'd measured him last. "Your skin looks better."
"Thanks," Mix replied dryly. "Puberty helped."
Kane clapped his back hard enough to rattle bones. "Still sharp, huh?"
Arm came in through the sliding glass door, eyes flicking between the scene and Mix's stiff shoulders. Kane caught him in his gaze.
"Who's this?"
"My roommate," Mix said, too fast. "Arm., Kane, My elder brother "
Arm gave a small nod. "Nice to meet you."
"Roommate," Kane echoed. "Right."
Elna didn't say anything. Just smiled, small and knowing.
---
Lunch was a battlefield dressed up like a family meal. The dining table had never felt this crowded.
Kane dominated the conversation. Work gossip, crypto success, gym routines, vacations. Elna corrected him every five minutes, like she had a score to settle in public.
Arm stayed mostly quiet. Mix barely touched his food.
"So, Arm," Kane said, finally turning to him, "what's your deal?"
"I study architecture," Arm replied, calm but firm. "Second year."
"You two seem close," Elna said, tilting her head slightly.
"We are," Mix answered before Arm could. "Roommates usually are."
Kane's smirk sharpened. "You were always a little… sensitive."
Mix's jaw locked.
"You should've played sports," Kane went on. "Toughens you up. All that music and writing… makes you soft."
Arm's fork paused halfway to his mouth.
Mix stood. "Excuse me."
The chair scraped loudly against the floor. He walked out.
Arm waited five seconds, then followed.
---
He found Mix on the porch, hands clenched at his sides, eyes too bright.
"I'm fine," Mix said without looking.
"No, you're not."
"I should be used to him by now. He's always been like this. Golden child. Gets away with everything. Shows up and hijacks the room."
"He doesn't hijack you," Arm said quietly.
Mix turned, finally looking at him. "I feel like I shrink whenever he's near. Like I'm twelve again and invisible."
"You're not invisible to me," Arm said.
And that landed.
They stood in silence for a moment. Then Mix sighed. "I want to go back. Campus. Usual noise. My bed."
Arm touched his arm gently. "Say the word."
Mix didn't hesitate. "Let's leave tomorrow."
---
Gun was humming.
Not loudly. Just a quiet tune under his breath as he lay with his head in Peat's lap, both of them stretched out on the common room couch like it was their private island.
Peat scrolled through his phone with one hand, the other lightly resting in Gun's hair. Every few minutes, he'd card his fingers through it without looking. Absentminded. Familiar.
Comfortable.
"You're in a good mood," Peat murmured.
Gun looked up, grin lazy. "You let me lie on you. That's like… relationship-level stuff."
Peat didn't smile, but his eyes were soft.
---
The dorm was still half-empty when Mix and Arm got back.
It felt strange, walking the halls without the usual background noise. No thumps of doors, no laughter from the common room, no footsteps echoing above. Just quiet. Clean and uninterrupted.
Their room was the same two beds, one half-lived-in, the other tidier but just as familiar now.
Mix dropped his bag by the door. Arm didn't say anything. He just followed Mix inside, then closed the door behind them. A gentle click.
It was the sound that tipped something.
Mix turned.
Arm was already looking at him.
No tension. No rush. Just something in the air that felt warmer than it should.
"You okay?" Arm asked.
Mix nodded. "Just tired."
"You want to sleep?"
Mix hesitated. Then shook his head. "No. Not yet."
He stepped closer.
Arm didn't move.
They weren't touching. But they were close enough now for the air between them to buzz.
Mix reached out, fingers brushing the hem of Arm's shirt. A barely-there touch.
"You sure?" Arm's voice had dropped a little, soft and low.
Mix met his eyes. "I don't want to pretend I'm not ready."
Arm studied him, reading all the layers underneath that.
Then he nodded. "Okay. But we do this slow. All the way slow."
Mix's breath caught. "I want that."
So Arm kissed him.
Gently.
Like he had all the time in the world.
---
Clothes didn't come off in a rush. They didn't even come off all at once.
First, it was Arm helping Mix out of his hoodie. Then the t-shirt underneath. Then a quiet moment where their bare chests touched, and Mix closed his eyes just to feel it.
Arm pressed kisses to his collarbone. Soft. Steady. Careful. Like every inch of Mix was something to learn, not conquer.
Mix let his fingers explore too. The slope of Arm's shoulders, the lines down his back. There was muscle there, but softness too. A balance he hadn't expected.
When Arm sat back on the bed, he pulled Mix between his legs. Their foreheads touched. Breaths mingled.
"You're okay," Arm whispered. "Tell me if it gets too much."
Mix nodded again. "I will."
And he meant it.
---
Jeans slid off. Then boxers. Skin to skin, finally, under the amber dorm light that hummed in the silence.
Mix sat in Arm's lap, legs on either side, hands braced on Arm's chest. They kissed deeper now. Not hurried, but fuller. Arms around waists. Hips shifting, searching for rhythm.
Arm's hand cupped the back of Mix's neck. The other found its way down his spine, guiding him just enough.
Mix gasped against his lips. "You make it feel… like it's okay to want this."
Arm nipped at his bottom lip. "You're supposed to want this. You're allowed."
Mix moved again, finding friction. They both moaned softly, caught in the buildup.
Arm flipped them slowly, letting Mix settle on the bed while he hovered over him. His hand traced Mix's chest, then dipped lower, teasing the waistband again.
"You're so warm," he murmured.
Mix bit his lip. "I feel like I'm going to explode."
Arm grinned. "Let's not rush to the end."
And they didn't.
Arm took his time. Mouth exploring. Hands moving in slow lines. Every stroke, every kiss had intention. Not just to arouse but to tell Mix: you are wanted, exactly like this.
Mix arched when Arm kissed down his stomach, stopping just above where he throbbed.
"You sure?" Arm asked again.
"Yes," Mix breathed. "I want you to show me."
So Arm did.
And every second of it was slow, hot, and aching.
---
They didn't reach the final step right away.
First, it was Arm's fingers, slick and careful. One, then two. Stretching him slowly, giving him time to adjust.
Mix clenched around the intrusion, breathing hard. Arm soothed him with kisses, with murmurs against his temple. "You're doing good. I got you."
"I didn't think I'd feel this much," Mix whispered.
Arm held him close. "You're supposed to."
When Arm finally pressed in slow, precise, watching every twitch of Mix's face they both groaned.
It was intense. Tight. A full-body ache that wrapped itself around them both.
Mix buried his face in Arm's shoulder. "Don't stop."
Arm kissed his hair. "Never."
---
They moved slowly.
Rhythmic.
Not rough. Not timid. Just real.
Arm thrust deep, but not fast, making sure Mix felt every inch. Mix held on tight, nails dragging lines down Arm's back. Every moan, every gasp, filled the room like a confession.
There were moments where they locked eyes and didn't look away.
Moments where they stopped moving just to kiss again.
Moments where nothing mattered but the press of their bodies and the burn in their lungs.
---
When it finally ended, it wasn't with shouting or breaking.
It was a soft collapse. Arm's body over Mix's, both of them slick with sweat, tangled in sheets and breathless.
Mix let out a shaky laugh. "That was…"
Arm smiled against his neck. "Yeah. It was."
They didn't say anything for a while.
They just lay there. Holding each other. Skin on skin. Heartbeats slowly falling back into rhythm.
Finally, Mix said, "You didn't make me feel small."
Arm kissed his cheek. "I never will."