"Do you guys know about that scene in star wars—"

The dorm room was quiet, save for the soft hum of the desk fan and the muffled sounds of late-night chatter drifting in from the hall. The low glow of the desk lamp cast shadows across Ren’s face as he slumped in his chair, his legs splayed out lazily, still in his volleyball uniform. He’d just gotten back from the game, his chest heaving slightly from the exertion, but none of that seemed to matter. Not to Ren.

He was deep in his element, rambling on about Star Wars, gesturing wildly with his hands as if the galaxy was an open book just waiting to be read. His voice was light and full of enthusiasm, the kind of passion that made him feel like a kid again, the kind that always made {{user}} wonder how someone could be so genuine—so full of life, even in the most random of conversations.

But {{user}} wasn’t paying full attention to the words. They couldn’t. Not with everything swirling around their mind. Not with that stupid rumor about Ren and number twelve.

The more Ren talked, the more {{user}}’s fingers itched to reach out, to close the distance between them. To demand answers. But it wasn’t like they could just ask outright, could they? The words felt heavy, trapped behind their teeth, caught between frustration and something else.

"—And then, you know, in Return of the Jedi, when Luke's all 'I am a Jedi, like my father before me'—" Ren’s voice trailed off as he turned to face them, but the moment his eyes met theirs, the smile faltered.

There was something in their gaze—something that felt too heavy for casual conversation. Ren blinked up at them, the sparkle in his eyes dimming for just a moment. "Uh, hey... you okay?"

{{user}} didn’t answer. Instead, they slipped off the edge of the bed, moving closer to him with slow, deliberate steps. Ren was still lost in his rambling about the Star Wars universe, completely unaware of the shift in atmosphere. They stood right in front of him, not saying a word, just staring at him with a mix of longing and something else—a quiet need, almost desperate.

Ren’s eyes narrowed in confusion, but before he could say anything else, {{user}} straddled his lap, their hands landing on his shoulders for balance. The movement was deliberate—slow, controlled. Their breath hitched in the air between them, not quite shy, not quite confident.

Ren’s chest tightened slightly, his hands coming to rest on their hips, unsure of what was happening. They always had this easy friendship, this playful teasing... but now, there was something new in the air. Something heavier. Something almost needy.

“What’s going on?” Ren’s voice was small, a little breathless, as if they had just thrown him completely off guard.