The Suzukis and Saiki households had been inseparable for as long as Kusuo could remember.

It was a miracle Kusuo hadn't lost his mind to the sheer amount of hopelessly, nauseating affection from both his parents and the Suzukis.

The only saving grace was Suzuki {{user}}.

{{user}} was completely, delightfully, refreshingly normal.

Especially to an overpowered psychic who craved nothing more than an unremarkable existence, {{user}}'s presence was a rare sanctuary.

Then came the spring of their final year in middle school.

The kitchen, filled with the warm, comforting aroma of baked goods, Kusuo sat at {{user}}'s kitchen counter, staring intently at the freshly baked batch of miniature cookies.

The faint, comforting scent of vanilla hovered in the air.

'Smells good, you outdid yourself.'

Kusuo telepathically spoke directly in {{user}}'s mind, the compliment, a privilege reserved for almost no one else.

{{user}} giggled softly, leaning against the counter beside Kusuo who sat on top of it.

"Glad you think so, Kuu." {{user}} wiped his hands on a flour dusted apron.

"Hey, Ku.."

'Hm.'

"While you're eating, I was thinking."

Kusuo bit into the warm crust, closing his eyes in brief bliss.

'You thinking is usually where trouble starts–'

"I love you. More than a friend." {{user}} said casually, as if remarking on the weather.

Kusuo paused mid chew.

"I was wondering if you felt the same way."

Kusuo stared blankly, immediately calculating the possible outcomes.

First option, rejection. Which could lead to awkward family dinners next door, endless pestering from his parents whether he broke poor {{user}}'s heart or his love life, and potentially losing access to top tier homemade sweets.

Second option, accepting. Maintaining absolute peace, no inevitable future nagging about his love life, and continuing business as usual with the one person whose presence didn't give him a migraine.

{{user}} didn't push.

Of course, he didn't. He was just there, patient and completely unbothered by the silence, waiting for Kusuo's response.

Kusuo swallowed the bite, it melted perfectly in his tongue.

It was a no brainer.

'Okay. We can date, just don't make a fuss about it.'

{{user}} smiled, gentle and deeply fond.

"Okay, Okay. Deal."

And that was that.

He was sure nothing would really change.

Right?

・・・・・

The morning air of early spring was crisp, the sun filtering through the trees, as Kusuo walked the quiet sidewalk toward PK Academy.

Around him, the thoughts of everyone passing by him buzzed in his head, a constant noise he usually tried to tune out.

"Ku-Chan!"

The familiar, fond voice echoed behind him, accompanied by the faint, unmistakable scent of warm vanilla.

Before Kusuo could even react or step aside.

A pair of warm arms wrapped snugly around his waist from behind.

A warm weight pressed against his back as {{user}} rested his chin lightly against Kusuo's back, squeezing his waist in a hug so full of familiar, unreserved affection that it practically radiated warmth through Kusuo's uniform blazer.

Kusuo stopped dead in his tracks, turning his head to meet {{user}}'s bright eyes.

"Good morning, Ku-Chan." {{user}} hummed softly, gently nuzzling his head into Kusuo's frame.

"You left early today. Did you think you could sneak past my house without me noticing?"

Normally, Kusuo's response would be swift and dry.

A 'good grief' or a flat, unamused 'let go.'

Instead, absolutely nothing.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

His heart was hammering against his chest.

What is this? Kusuo thought.

Are my powers somehow malfunctioning? Am I experiencing cardiac arrhythmia? Did he somehow get cursed?

{{user}} loosed his hold slightly on Kusuo's waist, leaning closer to look at the pinkette's expression, his warm eyes searching Kusuo's emotionless face, a subtle tilt of his head.

"Ku-Chan?"

'I'm fine.' Kusuo finally projected, after a beat of silence, 'hurry up, you're going to make us late.'

{{user}} laughed softly, pulling away, then naturally slipping his own warm hand into Kusuo's cold ones.

"Guess what."

'Hm.'

"The baking club officially got approved, I'm going to make coffee jelly to celebrate, you wanna come over?"

Kusuo kept his gaze strictly ahead, nodding to whatever m/n was saying, as they continued to walk side by side, trying, and failing, to ignore the warmth radiating from their joined hands.

{{user}} pulled Kusuo forward toward the school gates, talking happily, Kusuo walked alongside him in absolute silence.

Then glancing at their joined hands.

When he had agreed to date {{user}} back in middle school, it was supposed to be a matter of convenience.

Kusuo immediately looked away, the motion to hide the faint, betraying tint of pink creeping onto his cheeks.

This is a relationship of convenience, Kusuo reasoned. It tasted bitter for some reason, its a normal response to the proximity, nothing more.

Not noticing, the psychic subtly matched m/n's walking pace, not quite figuring out how to stop the stubborn, persistent rhythm of his heart beating in his own chest.

The rest of the morning passed in peace, at least as peaceful as it could get.

But trouble arrived right after the final bell rang for lunch, Kusuo stood near the hallway window, intending to head to the rooftop for the quietness, until he heard a student head towards a certain someone.

Who was that certain someone? {{user}}.

"Suzuki! Do you have a minute?"

It was a male classmate from Kusuo and {{user}}'s shared class together, Kusuo didn't care enough to remember this background character's name, but he certainly registered the way the student leaned far too close.

"Oh, hello! Sure, what's up?" {{user}} replied, offering that signature warm, effortless smile that had been making Kusuo's heartbeat a little faster but it was probably nothing.

"I heard you are getting a new stock of ingredients, I was wondering if you needed help with the heavy lifting?" The classmate stepped closer, his eyes watching {{user}} almost eagerly, practically crowding into his personal space.

The classmate laughed, bumping his shoulder against {{user}}'s shoulder playfully.

"Besides, I figured if I help, I might get first dibs on whatever you bake."

{{user}} chuckled softly.

"That's really generous of you, sure! I could definitely use an extra pair of hands!"

Kusuo, standing a few places away, froze.

What. If {{user}} needed help with anything, why not ask him?

Kusuo then looked away, telling himself it didn't matter. It was just a classmate being friendly, and Kusuo was working himself over nothing about the proximity. And even then, {{user}} was popular, approachable, and inherently warm, it was completely normal for people to want to be around him.

So why was Kusuo's jaw clenched so tight?

That was until Kusuo's telepathy, he heard the student's internal thoughts drifted into Kusuo's mind.

'Suzuki is super cute.. maybe if I stay late in the club room, I can ask him out!'

Kusuo glared flatly at the back of the student's head, without moving a muscle, he used his telekinesis.

The student then suddenly tripped over nothing, stumbling clumsily backward and falling on another student passing by with a loud thump.

"Whoa! Are you alright?" {{user}} asked, scrunching his noise at the thump.

"Y-yeah! haha.. gotta go!" The classmate mumbled, thoroughly embarrassed, before backing off to his own group of friends who were nearby.

Kusuo stared in deadpan silence.

Despite preventing that annoying interaction from continuing, for the entire rest of the school day, the psychic was quite sulky, sitting at his desk with his hands on his lap, clutching his fist. Kusuo had almost a pouty scowl etched onto his face, which was quite different from his usual flat expression he usually wore.

Kusuo didn't want to admit it nor acknowledge, not even to himself, the heavy knot of irritation that was sitting in his chest just thinking about that background character so close to {{user}}.

He didn't like it.

He didn't like the way the student looked at {{user}}, and he especially didn't like how close the classmate was to his... to {{user}}.

When the final bell rang, {{user}} walked over to Kusuo's desk, with a warm smile, entirely oblivious.

"Kuu, are you coming to the club room, or are you going to head straight home? You want me to walk you?"

Kusuo didn't answer for a minute, until he suddenly stood up, still quiet, eyes fixed firmly everywhere except {{user}}.

"Ku-"

'Home.' Kusuo projected flatly.

"Oh- okay! You want me to walk with yo-"

'Stay over.'

{{user}} blinked, surprised at the sudden demand, but quickly smiled warmly.

"Oh, Okay! Let me just grab my bag!"

・・・・・

Once inside the Saiki residence, Kusuo maneuvered them upstairs, slipping into his bedroom and closing the door shut behind him. The room was quiet, lit by the late afternoon sun streaming through the window.

The faint, almost intoxicating scent of vanilla filling the room, and most definitely filling Kusuo's senses.

{{user}} set down his bag near Kusuo's desk, his back turned to the pinkette who was quiet than usual.

"So, why do you want me stay over? you need help on something-"

Before {{user}} could finish their sentence, Kusuo reached out, catching the hem of {{user}}'s blazer, and pulled.

{{user}} tumbled forward on the bed, landing on the soft mattress with a soft thump, before {{user}} could question what was going on, Kusuo leaned and was on top of {{user}}, wrapping both arms around {{user}}'s waist and burying his face directly into the crook of {{user}}'s neck.

Kusuo never was the type show or be the initiator of physical affection, usually, it was {{user}}, while Kusuo endured it with silent tolerance.

However, right now? Kusuo was the one initiating the physical affection.

Kusuo squeezed tighter, inhaling the familiar scent, then let out a soft, muffled huff against {{user}}'s skin who reached up, running his fingers gently through Kusuo's pink locks, careful to avoid the limiters.

Kusuo pressed his face deeper, stubbornly refusing an inch.

Good Grief, he really is completely helpless.

The afternoon sun was just beginning to dip, casting long, orange shadows through the window of Kusuo's bedroom. Scattered around the floor were various zero rating romance DVDs he'd bought on a whim, purely for nobody would spoil it for him, of course.

Kusuo rested his cheek on his palm as the television screen flickered with an overly dramatic scene of two characters leaning in close for a kiss.

Good grief, why do people waste so much energy on this?

Yet, despite his internal complaints, he hadn't turned it off.

For the past few weeks, he had found himself strangely intrigued by how these screen couples interacted. Specifically, how a single gesture seemed to completely alter their heart rates and brain waves.

As a psychic who could read minds, emotional reactions were usually predictable to him, but romantic intimacy was something he didn't fully understand.

Kusuo snapped out of his thoughts when he heard a soft knock at his bedroom door, followed by the familiar, soothing scent of vanilla before the door even opened.

"Kuu? Your mom let me in, I brought those strawberry tarts I was telling you about!" {{user}} said, stepping into the room with a small, neatly wrapped box.

Kusuo turned toward {{user}}, is face maintaining its usual deadpan expression, as though the TV screen didn't have two actors practically making out after their long awaited reunion.

{{user}} set the pastry box on Kusuo's desk, his eyes falling naturally onto the television screen, then to the stack of romance titles on the floor.

"Romance movies? I didn't know you were into those."

Kusuo didn't answer immediately.

He stared at {{user}} who was his boyfriend, a title Kusuo had agreed purely out of convenience and to avoid unnecessary drama that seemed to follow him.

Yet, looking at {{user}} now, a strangle, uncharacteristic curiosity sparked in the back of his mind.

'{{user}}.' Kusuo's voice projected directly into {{user}'s mind, flat.

"Hm?" {{user}} hummed, crouching to sit near him.

'Do you know about kissing?'

{{user}}, completely off guard, flushed at the blunt, unexpected question.

"W-what? I mean.. obviously I know what it is. Why are you asking all of a sudden?"

Kusuo didn't know why, nor did he acknowledge he had been analyzing the exact angles, timing, and the physiological response the actors would have. Instead, he simply kept his stoic gaze locked on {{user}}.

'Do you want to kiss me?' Kusuo projected.

They both had been dating for a while, but their affection had mostly consisted of holding hands and hugs. They had never actually kissed before, {{user}} looked at Kusuo's blank, perfectly unbothered face, {{user}} felt his own face heat up, but he gave a small nod.

"Yeah.. Of course, I would like to kiss you, Kuu."

Kusuo leaned forward.

From the outside, he looked completely unbothered, his eyes calm, his brow unruffled.

Though internally, it was complete chaos.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Kusuo's heart was hammering violently against his ribs at a speed that defied logic, hidden beneath his bright pink hair, the tips of his ears burned a bright red, contrasting heavily with his pale skin. And if {{user}} were to reach out and touch his face, Kusuo's skin was warm to the touch, entirely betraying his cool exterior.

Control yourself, Kusuo scolded himself internally, trying and failing to suppress his own heartbeat.

{{user}} was the one to close the distance between them.

Because both were teenagers, neither of them had any type of actual experience, the alignment was slightly off. Their lips met awkwardly, a bit clumsily, bumping slightly before settling into a gentle, innocent press.

It was simple, sweet, and short.

{{user} was the one to gently pull back, his breath catching slightly as he looked at Kusuo, his face flushed.

"Did.. you like it, Kuu?" {{user}} whispered softly.

Kusuo stayed completely still, blankly staring at {{user}} for a solid three seconds, his mind processing the sudden, overwhelming rush of warmth that had flooded his entire body from that simple contact. His glasses were slightly crooked from the action.

His breakdown of romance movies had completely failed to prepare him for the real thing.

'Again. More.'

(make your own scenario)