"Liarrr," one of the boys sang, pointing at Kyan with a teasing grin. "And you know what happens to liars during Truth and Dare?"
Another chimed in, "Toilet duty! You'll scrub the toilet ground with a toothbrush."
The room burst into laughter.
Kyan's face twisted. The toilet ground? Hell no.
He remembered the last time—nasty. Sticky. The stench had haunted his dreams for a week.
"No!" he blurted quickly, waving his hands. "It wasn't… it wasn't what you think."
Everyone quieted down a bit, leaning in.
"It was—uh—it was one of the drunk guests… from the feast."
He swallowed. "They were wasted. I didn't mean for it to happen—just happened."
A long silence. Then someone laughed.
"Softie got kissed by a stranger?!"
"Oh hell no, that's even worse!"
Ace's jaw clenched slightly. He didn't say a word, but the way he sat back, arms folded and eyes narrowing?
Yeah… he wasn't buying it.
Not one bit.
Since the day Kyan walked into their room, there was just… something about him.
Ace couldn't explain it—not even to himself.
The way that softie moved.
The way his shirt always seemed too big, slipping off one shoulder.
Or the way his voice got low and breathy when he was tired.
But what really messed Ace up…
Was when Kyan bent over to sweep under the bed or reach for something on the lower shelf.
That view?
Yeah—it did things.
Wild things.
Things Ace wasn't ready to admit.
He'd never labeled himself. Not gay, not straight. Just… existing.
But something about Kyan made memories flood back—
Memories of that boy in college. The one he never had the courage to speak to. The one with soft eyes and a stupid laugh that haunted him for years.
And damn it, Kyan looked a lot like him.
Ace shook his head and cursed under his breath.
No.
No, this wasn't happening.
Not again.
Not with this soft-spoken, pink-lipped roommate who walked around in shorts two sizes too small.
The bottle spun again, wobbling, teasing… and then pointed straight at Ace.
"Truth or dare?" Dante smirked.
Ace cracked his neck, leaned back, and said coolly, "Dare."
That was when Roco—grinning like a devil with secrets—clapped his hands.
"Ohhh, perfect," he laughed. "I dare you to make out with pretty boy over there…" He pointed his chin toward Kyan. "In private. Five minutes. Doors closed."
The room erupted in hoots and gasps.
Ace's jaw ticked. "You serious?"
"You said dare, didn't you?" Dante taunted, brows raised.
Ace exhaled through his nose, then stood up slowly. He turned toward Kyan, who looked like he was halfway between fainting and vanishing into the floor.
"I'm not scrubbing that toilet," Kyan muttered under his breath, dragging himself up with a sigh.
Ace towered beside him, looking down with a crooked smirk. "Let's go, pretty boy. Try not to fall for me."
Kyan rolled his eyes. "Ugh. Let's just get this over with."
But Ace?
Ace's heart was beating a little too fast.
And his mind?
Already busy wondering how soft those lips were.
The balcony door clicked shut behind them.
Ace leaned against the rail, then pushed off and walked toward Kyan slowly.
His gaze was intense, locked in like he was reading every thought spinning in that soft head.
Before Kyan could even blink, his back hit the cold wall.
Ace stepped in—close.
Kyan's breath hitched. "W-we don't have to actually make out. Let's just fake it, okay?" he stammered. "I mean, five minutes will go fast. We can pretend or someth—"
Ace smirked, eyes trailing from Kyan's lips to his throat.
"You think they're not watching?" he whispered, voice low and slow. "They're probably waiting to hear moans or something, softie."
Kyan swallowed hard, pressing his palms flat to the wall behind him. "T-then pretend... from a distance…"
But Ace didn't move back.
Instead, he brushed a knuckle down Kyan's cheek, letting it trail to his neck… slow… teasing.
His other hand rested on the wall beside Kyan's head, caging him in. His body didn't touch—but the heat? It wrapped Kyan up like smoke.
Ace's voice was a soft hum. "Your lashes flutter when you're nervous... it's kinda cute."
Kyan's knees felt weak.
His chest rose and fell faster. He wanted to push him away. Wanted to punch him.
But his voice was barely a whisper, "Y-you're such an ass…"
Ace leaned in, mouth inches from his ear. "Mmm. But I'm your type, aren't I?"
No kiss. No touch.
But damn.
Kyan could barely stand straight. And Ace? He walked off with the cockiest smirk, like he hadn't just short-circuited a softie's entire brain.
Kyan stood there frozen for a second, heart racing, face flushed. Then without thinking, he shouted after Ace, who was already halfway back inside—
"Damn! I love your stupid eyes!"
Ace paused mid-step.
The room burst into laughter as soon as Kyan walked back in, clearly flustered but trying to act cool.
"Ohhh?! Love his what?!" Dante grinned, pointing. "Softie's down bad!"
"Love at first dare!" someone else howled.
"Should we start planning the wedding or should we wait for the second make-out?" Roco teased, tossing a pillow at him.
Kyan groaned, face red. "Shut up, all of you."
Ace just threw himself onto the couch like nothing happened—smirk lazy, eyes smug.
But yeah… his ears were red. Very red.
The game went on, louder and wilder now, and for the first time since he got to this damn place, Kyan was laughing—genuinely laughing.
He didn't even notice how his smile kept lingering a little longer whenever Ace teased him or how he didn't flinch when someone asked him to take a dare.
But far above them… someone was watching.
Nico stood at the terrace—quiet, still, a cigarette burning between his fingers, the only glow against the night.
That spot? It gave a perfect view of the balconies, the living area, even the damn laughter echoing inside. And he'd seen it all.
Ace pressing Kyan to the wall.
The breathless laugh Kyan gave.
That shout—"Damn! I love your stupid eyes!"
Nico took a long drag, jaw tense. He exhaled slow, through his nose, smoke curling like rage in his chest. His grip on the metal railing tightened until his knuckles turned white.
Then—
He did something small… but telling.
He stubbed the cigarette out right on the railing. Not on the ashtray. Not on the floor.
Burnt a black mark right into the cold steel.
And just stood there, staring down with sharp eyes.