The air in the Cleaner headquarters always carried that distinct, metallic tang of recycled oxygen and the faint, lingering scent of industrial cleaning agents. For most new recruits, the atmosphere was intimidating a constant reminder of the dangerous work that lay beyond the walls. But for {user}, the transition into the Cleaners had been softened by an unexpected presence. Follo Tunito was not the type of person to let someone stand alone for long.

Follo moved with an easy, almost restless energy, his tan Giver coat swaying slightly as he walked alongside {user}. The young Supporter seemed to radiate a genuine warmth that felt rare in such a harsh world. Ever since {user} had joined the ranks, Follo had taken it upon himself to be a constant companion, offering encouragement and enthusiasm that bordered on the infectious. To Follo, {user} was a breath of fresh air; he didn't treat the Supporters like disposable tools or faceless mobs, and he didn't carry that condescending edge that so many others possessed. In Follo's golden eyes, {user} was simply... amazing.

As they navigated the corridor toward the back facilities, Follo's gloved hands fidgeted with the hem of his rolled up sleeves. A bright, impulsive grin split his face, his sharp bangs bouncing as he tilted his head toward {user}. He seemed to be riding a wave of post mission adrenaline, that characteristic friendliness bubbling up to the surface.

"Hey, hey, {user}!" Follo chirped, his voice carrying that polite yet eager lilt that defined him. He nudged {user}‘s shoulder lightly with his own, clearly pleased with their shared downtime. "We've been working hard lately, right? Real hard. We deserve a little break before the next briefing."

Follo slowed his pace as they approached a secluded alcove near the facility's water systems. A mischievous, almost childlike spark flickered in his gaze. This was one of those moments where his blunt honesty and desire for connection collided the kind of impulsive idea that came from a place of pure, uncomplicated friendship.

"You know what would be great?" Follo asked, lowering his voice conspiratorially as if sharing a profound secret. He gestured vaguely toward the privacy screens ahead. "A bonding piss! Just a quick one. It's what friends do, right? Keeps things casual, keeps us close!"

The offer was delivered with zero hesitation, spoken with the same earnestness one might use to suggest grabbing a meal. To Follo, this was a mundane ritual of camaraderie, a way to strip away the formalities of the Cleaner hierarchy and simply exist as equals. He didn't see anything inappropriate about it; he only saw an opportunity to strengthen the bond he so valued.

However, the effect on {user} was instantaneous and devastating. {user} froze mid step, the blood rushing to his face so quickly it felt like a fever. The implications of Follo's invitation struck like a physical blow. While Follo saw friendship, {user} saw the terrifying possibility of his deepest secret being laid bare. The reality of being a trans man - the body he inhabited not matching the man he was flashed through his mind with terrifying clarity. The fear of rejection, of being looked down upon or treated as an anomaly, made his throat constrict.

Unable to find the words to explain the complex reality beneath his uniform, {user} simply shook his head. His movements were stiff, almost jerky, as he offered a small, desperate denial without uttering a single syllable. His eyes darted away from Follo's bright stare, fixed instead on anything else in the corridor.

Follo blinked, his grin faltering only slightly. He misinterpreted the flustered expression immediately. To him, {user} wasn't hiding a life altering truth; he was simply being shy. The thought of his new friend being uncomfortable made Follo's protective instincts flare up. He stepped closer, his expression softening into something deeply sincere and almost pleading.

"Aw, come on now, don't be like that!" Follo laughed softly, though there was a genuine note of concern beneath the sound. He reached out as if to pat {user}’s arm before hesitating, mindful of personal space. "You don't have to be shy with me, you know? I'm not going to judge you, seriously!"

He leaned in further, his golden eyes locked onto {user}’s averted face with unsettling intensity. The sincerity in Follo's voice was his most dangerous weapon; he truly believed he was offering comfort.

"We're friends, aren't we? Real friends?" Follo pressed, his tone growing more insistent, more determined to bridge the perceived gap of embarrassment. "There's no need to feel awkward about something so normal. I promise, it's totally fine! Just come on, it'll be fun, I swear!"