Kaidan is a 5'7" tall, black haired feminine man with pale skin, dark circles under his eyes, half lidded slanted sky blue eyes, twink body, bubbly ass and slightly thick thighs. He is currently in pajamas: his pajamas are a black ribbed bodysuit with a high-cut silhouette, a heart-pull front zipper, and a small triangular chest cutout. It features an oversized bunny-ear hood with extra-long ears lined in white, very long sleeves and fluffy pom-pom drawstrings. His hair is fluffy and slightly messy. He is sleepy, quiet, shy, caring and sweet. Kaidan has been Hank's friend since they were little, he is living with Hank because he is depressed, has no job and nowhere to live. He cares a lot for Hank, so he cleans the apartment and helps with cooking when he has enough energy, almost like a househusband, though he blushes when he gets compared to one. He and Hank have a 'friends with benefits' type of relationship none of them wants to think too much of. 26 years old. Hank is a gym trainer with tan skin, slightly more muscular than average body, black short hair, hairy body, and tattoos on his back. He stands at 6'1". He is very a calm person and very patient. He has bad luck in love despite his chill and kind nature. He claims he is heterosexual, but has been attracted to men a few times in his life. He and Kaidan have a 'friends with benefits' type of relationship none of them wants to think too much of, mainly because Hank isn't sure if he really wants Kaidan as a boyfriend or just as a sex companion. 26 years old. Due to Hank having only one bedroom in his apartment, he and Kaidan have to sleep together. They both like soft and slow sex and they moan quite a lot even when they keep it gentle.

Chapter 1: Kitchen Seduction

The fluorescent light in Hank’s kitchen hummed a low, steady note, like a tired bee trapped against the ceiling. It cast a yellowed glow over the peeling linoleum and the single mismatched cabinet door that hung crooked on its hinge. Kaidan leaned against the sink, his hands wrapped around a mug of tea that had gone lukewarm. Steam rose in a lazy curl, then vanished.He was still mostly asleep. The black ribbed bodysuit he wore—more of a second skin, really—was soft against his own. The oversized bunny-ear hood fell around his face, the white-lined ears drooping. One of the fluffy pom-pom drawstrings brushed his wrist. He stared into his tea, the dark circles under his slanted blue eyes a permanent testimony to too many nights of fractured sleep.A floorboard creaked in the hallway.

Kaidan didn’t turn.He knew the weight of that step. The quiet way Hank moved, even in his own home.

“You’re up early,” Hank’s voice came from the doorway, calm and sleep-rough.

Kaidan shrugged a shoulder, the movement making the high-cut silhouette of the bodysuit stretch.The small triangular cutout over his chest felt suddenly very exposed. “Couldn’t stay down,” he murmured. His own voice was always too quiet in the mornings, like it hadn’t been used yet.Hank moved into the kitchen. The space wasn’t built for two, not really. He was a tall, solid presence that made the worn room feel even smaller. Kaidan watched from the corner of his eye as Hank opened the fridge, the light washing over his tan forearms and the trail of dark hair that disappeared under the waistband of his sweats.“Coffee?” Hank asked.

“Please.”

The coffee grounds were on the highest shelf, a deliberate placement by Hank days ago when Kaidan had mentioned the temptation to make a pot at three in the morning.Kaidan set his mug down with a soft click. He stretched up, the fabric of the bodysuit pulling taut across his back and riding high. The hem crept up, exposing the low curve of his spine and the full, bubbled swell of his ass.

He heard Hank stop moving.The silence was different now.Thick.

Kaidan’s fingertips brushed the canister, but it was just out of reach.He went up on his toes, his slight frame straining. The position arched his back, presented the exposed skin.

A warm, calloused hand settled on his hip.Kaidan froze.His breath caught.

“Let me,” Hank said, his voice closer now, right behind him. The other hand came to rest on Kaidan’s other hip, holding him steady. Hank’s chest was a hair’s breadth from Kaidan’s back, the heat of him a palpable force.

Hank reached up easily, his bicep brushing Kaidan’s shoulder.He retrieved the coffee canister in one smooth motion. But he didn’t let go. His hands remained on Kaidan’s hips, thumbs pressing into the soft give of flesh above the waistband of the bodysuit’s shorts.

Kaidan lowered his heels to the floor, but Hank didn’t step back.The fluorescent light hummed. The refrigerator kicked on with a rattle.“Hank?” Kaidan whispered. His skin was on fire where Hank touched him.

One of Hank’s thumbs began a slow, absent stroke back and forth. The touch was casual, proprietary, and it sent a shiver straight through Kaidan’s core.“These pajamas,” Hank said, his tone low and considering. “They’re new.”

Kaidan nodded, a slight movement. He could feel the coarse hair of Hank’s forearm against the small of his back. “Yeah.”

“They don’t leave much to the imagination, do they?” There was no judgment in Hank’s voice. Just a quiet, observed fact.

Before Kaidan could form a reply—not that he had one—Hank’s hands slid around from his hips. They splayed across the front of Kaidan’s lower abdomen, pulling him back firmly until Kaidan’s ass was snug against Hank’s groin. A soft, helpless sound escaped Kaidan’s throat.

Hank dipped his head, his mouth close to Kaidan’s ear.“You left the zipper down,” he murmured.

Kaidan glanced down. The heart-shaped pull of the front zipper was indeed resting low, the metal teeth parted to just below his sternum, revealing a pale strip of skin and the hint of his ribs. He hadn’t even noticed.

Hank’s right hand drifted up from his stomach, over the ribbed fabric, until a single finger hooked the pull. The zider slid a fraction lower with a quiet, metallic sigh.

“Hank,” Kaidan breathed again, a weak protest that sounded like an invitation.“I know,” Hank said.He didn’t move the zipper further. He just held it, his finger curled around the little metal heart. His other arm was a solid band across Kaidan’s stomach, keeping him anchored.“You make the coffee. I’ll get the mugs.”

He released Kaidan all at once, stepping away. The sudden absence of his heat was a physical shock. Kaidan swayed for a second, gripping the edge of the counter.His heart hammered against his ribs.

He heard the cupboard door open behind him, the clink of ceramic.Normal sounds.As if the last sixty seconds hadn’t happened.

With trembling hands, Kaidan measured the grounds into the filter. He could feel Hank’s eyes on him, tracing the line of his exposed back, the way the shorts clung to his thighs.

“You sleep okay?” Hank asked.The question was so mundane it was almost cruel.

“Not really,” Kaidan said, his voice steadier now.He poured water into the reservoir, clicked the machine on. The familiar gurgle filled the kitchen. “You?”

“Same.” Hank set two mugs on the counter.“Dreamt a lot.”

Kaidan finally turned, leaning back against the counter. The edge dug into his tailbone.Hank was watching him, his expression unreadable. Calm, as always. But his eyes were dark, traveling over Kaidan’s body with a lazy, familiar appreciation that made Kaidan’s skin flush.“About what?” Kaidan asked.

Hank’s lips quirked in a half-smile. “Can’t remember.”

They both knew he was lying.The coffee maker dripped its last drop. Hank poured, black for himself, a splash of milk for Kaidan.He handed the mug over, their fingers brushing.

“Thanks,” Kaidan mumbled, bringing the warm mug to his chest like a shield.

“You should go back to bed,” Hank said, sipping his coffee. “You look exhausted.”

“So do you.”

“We only have one bed, Kaidan.”

There it was.The unspoken center of everything. The single bed in the one-bedroom apartment. The friendship that had spiraled into tangled limbs and shared gasps in the dark.The ‘benefits’ that were easier to accept than to define.

“I know,” Kaidan said softly.Hank set his mug down. He reached out and tucked a stray strand of Kaidan’s fluffy black hair behind his ear, his touch lingering on the side of Kaidan’s face. “Come on.”

He took Kaidan’s hand, his grip firm and sure, and led him out of the yellow light of the kitchen, down the short, dark hall. The bedroom was shadowed, the blanket a messy heap in the middle of the mattress.Hank didn’t let go.He guided Kaidan to the side of the bed. “Turn around.”

Kaidan did, his pulse skipping. Hank’s hands went to the back of the bodysuit, to the zipper Kaidan couldn’t reach. He tugged it down slowly, the sound loud in the quiet room. The fabric parted, revealing the delicate knobs of Kaidan’s spine, one by one.

Hank pushed the sleeves down Kaidan’s arms, helping him step out of the suit until he was left in just a pair of soft black briefs.The morning air was cool on his skin.He was trembling again.

Then Hank’s hands were on his shoulders, turning him back. Hank’s eyes scanned him—the pale skin, the slight frame, the shy dip of his head.

Without a word, Hank bent, slid an arm under Kaidan’s knees and another behind his back, and lifted him. Kaidan let out a small gasp, his arms looping instinctively around Hank’s neck. Hank was warm and solid, smelling of sleep and clean sweat and coffee.

He laid Kaidan gently in the center of the bed, on the cool side of the sheets. Then he walked around to the other side, shed his own sweats, and climbed in.He didn’t hesitate. He pulled Kaidan against him, back to chest, wrapping his heavy arm around Kaidan’s waist, slotting his knees behind Kaidan’s.Kaidan melted into the embrace, the last of his tension dissolving. This was the thing they never talked about.The after.The holding. It felt more intimate than anything that came before.

Hank nuzzled the back of Kaidan’s neck, his breath a warm puff on Kaidan’s skin.“Sleep,” he murmured.

And Kaidan, wrapped in the profound safety of Hank’s arms, finally did.