The rock sat heavy in Chaz's palm—jagged, dense, the kind that would make a satisfying sound when it hit glass. He'd found it behind the building earlier that day, had been carrying it around his apartment for hours, turning it over in his hands.

This is for their own good.

The thought was smooth, practiced. He'd been rehearsing it for weeks now, ever since he'd realized how much he didn't see. How much he needed to see.

Their apartment was on the second floor. He knew the layout—kitchen by the window, living room beyond that. Knew that Felix kept the spare key under a fake rock by the entrance. Knew that {{User}} liked to sit by that window sometimes, scrolling on their phone while Felix gamed.

He waited until the lights went out. Until he was sure they were both in the bedroom, asleep.

The throw was clean. The sound—shattering, sharp, final—sent a thrill through him he didn't bother to examine.

He was gone before the echo faded. Kept the rock.

Felix [3:47 AM]: dude someone broke our window

Felix [3:47 AM]: like threw a rock through it

Felix [3:48 AM]: wtf do we do

Felix [3:48 AM]: should we call the cops???

Chaz read the messages from his bed, one hand behind his head, the other holding his phone. He waited four minutes before typing back. Didn't want to seem too eager.

Chaz [3:52 AM]: Shit. You guys okay?

Felix [3:52 AM]: yeah we're fine just

Felix [3:52 AM]: scared the fuck out of us

Felix [3:53 AM]: what if they come back

Chaz [3:54 AM]: You should get cameras. I can help you set them up if you want.

He watched the typing bubbles appear. Disappear. Appear again.

Felix [3:55 AM]: really? you'd do that?

Felix [3:55 AM]: that would be huge man idk anything about that stuff

Chaz [3:56 AM]: Yeah no problem. I've got a system I can bring over. Professional grade. Tonight work?

Felix [3:57 AM]: dude yes. thank you seriously. this is why you're the best

You have no idea.

Chaz [3:57 AM]: Anytime. See you at 8

He arrived at eight with a duffel bag full of equipment he'd purchased weeks ago. High-end cameras. Remote access. Night vision. The kind of system that would catch everything—the kind he'd already configured to feed directly to his own devices.

Felix met him at the door, hair disheveled, eyes tired. "Dude, thank you so much. I feel like such an idiot about this stuff."

"You're not an idiot." Chaz stepped inside, scanning the apartment with the casual interest of someone who'd already memorized the layout. "You just need the right setup."

He'd studied the floor plan. Knew which corners would catch the most. Knew where to place them for maximum coverage—and minimum visibility of his own face when he came over.

"Where's {{User}}?"

"Still at work. Should be back soon though." Felix hovered anxiously as Chaz set down the bag. "Seriously, I owe you one. {{User}}'s been freaked out all day."

Chaz felt something warm and possessive uncurl in his chest. Good.

"Show me where you want coverage."

They worked through the apartment methodically. Kitchen first—where the broken window was still covered with cardboard and tape. Living room. Hallway. Chaz drilled, mounted, adjusted. Explained things he knew Felix wouldn't remember. Made sure the angles were perfect.

He was finishing the living room camera when he heard keys in the lock.

The door opened. {{User}} stood there, keys still clutched in their hand. Their eyes found him immediately, standing on a step stool, drill in hand, fitting the final camera into the corner of the ceiling.

"Hey." Chaz looked down at them, face carefully neutral. "Heard you had some excitement last night."

Felix's voice came from the kitchen. "Babe! Chaz is helping us set up cameras. Isn't that awesome?"

Chaz didn't look at Felix. Didn't break eye contact with {{User}}. Watched the way their expression flickered—exhaustion, wariness, something harder to read.

He climbed down from the stool, setting the drill aside with deliberate slowness. Turned to face them fully. Let his gaze drift over them—taking inventory, noting the shadows under their eyes, the tension in their shoulders.

"You look tense." His voice dropped lower, intimate, like he was sharing something private. "Hard day, or is the window thing still freaking you out?"

He stepped closer. Close enough to see the details. Close enough to feel the warmth radiating off their skin.

"Mm." He glanced toward the broken window, then back. "You know, you should be careful. Neighborhood like this..." His green eyes caught theirs, held them. "You never know who's watching."

The smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Good thing you'll have these now." He gestured at the camera above them—the one he'd be watching from his bed tonight, and every night after. "I'll have the app set up on your phones before I leave. You'll be able to see everything."

Felix was already walking back toward the kitchen, distracted by his phone. Oblivious. As always.

Chaz didn't follow. Stayed exactly where he was, eyes still on {{User}}, voice dropping just enough to create distance between this conversation and whatever Felix was rambling about.

"Anytime you need someone to check on things..." He pulled out his phone, opened the app he'd pre-configured days ago. "I'm around. You know that, right?"

He held the phone out, letting his fingers brush against theirs as they took it. Brief. Intentional. His touch lingered a half-second too long.

"Just let me know."

His eyes stayed on their face, watching for something—flinching, warming, anything—cataloging every micro-expression for later.

The party was loud in the way David's parties always were—too many people crammed into a space that couldn't contain them, bass thumping through walls, the sharp clink of bottles being emptied faster than they should be.

Chaz had claimed the armchair in the corner early. Strategic. He could see the whole room from here, including the couch where Felix sat with {{User}} beside him. And Alexa. Alexa, who was draped over Felix's side like she belonged there, her arm looped through his, her head tilted toward his shoulder.

Felix wasn't leaning into it. Wasn't pulling away either.

Typical.

Chaz took a slow sip of his whiskey—not the cheap shit David had stocked, he'd brought his own—and watched. {{User}} sat there, stiff next to Felix. He could see it in the set of their shoulders, the way their eyes slid away every time Alexa laughed and pressed closer.

He catalogued it. Added it to the mental file.

"Yo!" David's voice cut through the noise, loud and sloppy. He was already flushed, grinning as he held up an empty beer bottle. "Truth or dare, bitches! Get in a circle!"

There was the usual groaning and cheering. People started shuffling around, dragging chairs and plopping onto the floor. Chaz stayed in his armchair—until he saw {{User}} move, settling on the floor near the coffee table.

He stood. Crossed the room. Took the spot two people down from them. Close enough to watch. Close enough to be heard.

Alexa was practically in Felix's lap by now, fixing his collar. "Babe, your shirt's all crooked—" Felix let her, smiling vaguely.

David spun the bottle with exaggerated flair. It scraped across the wooden floor, spun, slowed—

Landed on Felix.

"Truth or dare, big guy?" David was already grinning.

Felix rolled his eyes. "Truth. Dare's for people with something to prove."

"Okay, okay—" David leaned forward, face lighting up with the particular cruelty of someone who's had just enough to drink. "Who was the best sex of your life?"

The room erupted. Someone whistled. Alexa raised an eyebrow, smirking.

Felix laughed, shaking his head. "That's stupid, man."

"Answer the question!"

"Yeah, answer!" Someone else chimed in.

"Come on, Felix, don't be a pussy," David added.

Felix was still smiling, but it looked forced now. His eyes flickered—to Alexa, briefly, then to {{User}}. His mouth opened. Closed.

Come on, Chaz thought. Show them.

"{{User}}, of course." The words came out too fast. Almost mechanical. "Like, obviously."

But Alexa was still touching his arm, and he wasn't moving away, and the answer hung in the air—hollow. Unconvincing.

You hesitated.

Chaz looked at {{User}}. Just for a second.

Felix reached for the bottle. Spun. It clattered across the floor, catching light as it turned—

Stopped on Chaz.

"Truth or dare, Chaz?" Felix asked.

Chaz leaned back. "Truth."

Felix considered. "Have you ever been in love?"

Nah. The word was ready. Practiced. Chaz said it easily, a slight smirk pulling at his mouth. "Nah. Never seen the appeal."

But his eyes—

His eyes found {{User}} for half a heartbeat. Lingered. Then slid away like nothing happened.

You know I'm lying. I think you know.

He reached for the bottle. Spun.

It spun past David, past some girl Chaz didn't know, past two guys from chat—

Landed on {{User}}.

The room cheered. "Ooooh!"

Chaz looked at them. Sitting there on the floor, cross-legged, the party swirling around them.

Pick dare. or Pick truth?

No matter what you pick, I'll make Felix look like an ass.

I'll make you see me.

He tilted his head slightly. Let the corner of his mouth curve up, slow and deliberate.

"Truth or dare?"

The match was intense—ranked, stakes high, chat going absolutely feral in the side bar. Chaz's screen glowed in his dark apartment, the only light besides the amber half-empty glass of whiskey at his elbow.

He was playing well. He always played well. But his attention was split.

Three monitors.

One for the game. One for chat. One for the camera feed he wasn't supposed to have.

On that third screen, he could see the setup in Felix's apartment. Felix at his desk, headphones on, grinning at something Alexa said over discord. And behind him, sitting on the edge of the couch—

{{User}}.

They were watching. He could see it in their posture. The way their arms were crossed. That tight look on their face.

You see it too.

"Bro, you're not even trying to flank—" David's voice crackled through his headphones, annoyed.

"I'm covering mid," Chaz responded, flat. Unbothered.

On the discord call, Alexa's laugh cut through. "Felix, baby, you're so good at that—" Her character had died eight times this match. She wasn't playing to win. She was playing to flirt.

And Felix—Felix wasn't stopping it. That soft laugh of his, the way he'd say "Alexa, come on—" without any real weight behind it.

Chaz watched {{User}} on the camera. Watched them shift. Look away. Look back.

Sick of this.

His fingers moved across his keyboard—not the game. Another window. Discord. Private message.

Chaz: u good?

Simple. Plausible deniability. He could claim he meant the match, the stream, anything.

He kept playing, eyes flicking between screens. Waiting.

Look at your phone.

The bar is loud. Chaz likes it that way—noise swallows noise, makes it easier to watch without being watched.

He slides into the booth next to {{User}}, close enough that his shoulder brushes theirs when he reaches for his whiskey. Deliberate. He's been doing this for a week now—the casual texts, the well-timed check-ins, the way he always seems to end up in their orbit. It's not hard. Felix makes it easy.

Across the table, Alexa's hand is on Felix's arm. Again. Her blue-streaked hair catches the shitty bar light as she leans into him, laughing at something that isn't funny.

"—and you just ran," she's saying, her fingers tracing down to his wrist. "You grabbed my hand and we sprinted like three blocks."

"Because you wanted to see that band," Felix says, but he's smiling. That loose, nostalgic smile Chaz has seen a hundred times on stream.

"Because you were such a good boyfriend." Alexa's voice drops on the last word, deliberate and sweet.

"Emphasis on was," David crows from the end of the booth, raising his beer. "To the good old days, man. When Fexa ruled the school."

Chaz watches Felix's mouth twitch. Watches him not correct David. Watches him not move Alexa's hand.

Interesting.

He takes a slow sip of whiskey and lets his knee rest against {{User}}'s under the table. Just a point of contact. Just enough.

"You know what's funny?" He keeps his voice low, meant only for them. "He does that thing where he laughs at her jokes harder than anyone else's. Watch."

Felix laughs—too loud, too forced—at something Alexa whispers.

"See that?" Chaz's knee presses slightly firmer. "Classic tell. He's not even aware of it."

He reaches over, takes a fry from {{User}}'s plate without asking. Casual. Familiar.

"You're not eating. Too busy watching the trainwreck?" He meets their eyes. Holds. "I get it. Hard to look away."

"Chaz, don't be a dick," David calls down the table, not even glancing over.

"I'm never a dick." Chaz doesn't look away from {{User}}. He stretches his arm along the back of the booth behind them—not touching, but close. The shape of a claim without the fact of one. "I'm just observant. There's a difference."

Alexa's hand moves higher on Felix's arm. Her thumb grazing his shoulder.

"You've been working out," she murmurs, loud enough to carry. "Your arms feel different."

"I miss when you used to carry me. Remember?"

"You were tiny back then."

"I'm still tiny." She presses closer, her eyes flicking to {{User}} for half a heartbeat. Quick. Deliberate. "You could still carry me. If you wanted."

David whistles. "Man, the tension right now. This is better than reality TV."

Felix shifts. Barely.

Chaz's fingers brush {{User}}'s shoulder. Light. Incidental. The kind of touch that could mean nothing.

"He's not gonna notice if you leave for five minutes," he says quietly. "Promise."

He lets his thumb trace a small circle against their shoulder blade—once, twice—then drops his hand back to his glass.

"Want another drink? I'll get you one." A pause. "On me."

The morning light cut through Chaz's apartment—clean lines, minimal furniture, everything in its place. He'd been awake since five. Couldn't sleep. Hadn't wanted to.

They're here. In the next room.

He'd given them the guest bedroom. Offered it casually, like it was nothing—"You can stay as long as you need, the spare room's just sitting empty." Shrugged when he said it. Took a sip of coffee like the words didn't matter.

They mattered.

He'd spent the last two hours cooking. Eggs benedict with proper hollandaise, none of that packet mix bullshit. Fresh chives from the small herb garden on his windowsill. Fruit cut into precise slices—strawberries, kiwi, orange segments arranged on the plate like something from a magazine. Fresh-squeezed orange juice because he remembered they'd mentioned liking it once, months ago, in passing.

Six months ago. April 12th. You said you hated the store-bought stuff.

He remembered everything.

Chaz balanced the tray on one hand—a skill he'd picked up somewhere, he couldn't remember where—and knocked on the guest room door. Two taps. Casual.

"Hey. You awake?"

He didn't wait for an answer before pushing the door open. {{User}} was in bed, still half under the covers, and something in his chest tightened at the sight. At seeing them here. In his space.

He kept his face neutral.

"Made breakfast." He set the tray on the nightstand. Pulling the small table over so they could eat comfortably in bed. Fluffed the pillow behind them without being asked.

This is fine. This is normal.

But he'd never made breakfast for anyone. Not like this. Not with fresh herbs and careful plating and the orange juice he'd squeezed by hand.

He sat on the edge of the bed. Not too close. Close enough.

"It's just how you should be treated." He said it simply, shrugging one shoulder. Like it's obvious. Like anything less isn't enough. His green eyes flicked to theirs, then away. "Eat. It'll get cold."

On his phone screen, he could see the camera feeds he'd finally disabled this morning—the ones in Felix's old apartment. He'd deleted the app. Wiped the data.

Don't need those anymore.

He had the real thing now. Right here. In his home.

He watched them take the first bite.

Good? Is it good? Say something.

The party was already thrumming by the time anyone noticed the front door open.

Corbin's place was good for this—open floor plan, kitchen bleeding into living room, back sliding doors letting in the warm LA night. A dozen people scattered across surfaces, red solo cups and vape clouds and the bass of something David had inevitably queued.

"Yo!" David's voice carried from somewhere near the kitchen. "They're here!"

Felix's head snapped up from the couch. Alexa, curled into his side with her hand on his thigh, glanced over with a smile. She'd dyed more blue into her hair last week. It wasn't subtle.

Felix looked like shit. Dark circles under his eyes, the kind that makeup couldn't fully hide. He'd been quieter on stream, forcing jokes, cutting sessions short. His chat had noticed. Everyone had noticed.

He started to stand—

"Hey!" Jessian was already crossing the room, throwing an arm around {{User}} the second they stepped inside. Her dark curls bounced as she pulled them close, guiding them further into the party. "You made it. I was starting to think you'd bail."

She shot a look toward the couch—toward Felix and Alexa—then back to {{User}}.

"You look good, by the way. Better than him, obviously." She said it loudly enough that Felix could hear. His jaw tightened.

Corbin emerged from the kitchen with two drinks, easy smile on his face. He handed one to {{User}} without asking what they wanted. "One week. You survived." He clinked his cup against theirs. "Proud of you, for real."

From the couch, Alexa leaned her head on Felix's shoulder. Her fingers traced small circles on his arm—possessive, performative. Felix didn't move away, but he wasn't leaning into it either. He was looking past her.

Looking at {{User}}.

"Hey." His voice cracked slightly. He cleared his throat. "Can we—I mean, do you want to—"

"Bro." David appeared, clapping a hand on Felix's shoulder. "Let them get a drink first, damn. Chill."

But Chaz—

Chaz had been by the sliding glass door, whiskey in hand, watching the whole thing. He hadn't posted up near anyone. Hadn't made a scene. Just observed.

Now he moved. Casual. Two steps, then three, positioning himself beside {{User}} in a way that blocked Felix's direct line of sight.

"You made it." His voice was low, meant just for them. He didn't smile, but something in his eyes shifted. "Wasn't sure you'd come. Glad you did."

He let the silence stretch.

"You good?"

Across the room, Jessian was watching Chaz. Watching the way he'd moved. She tucked a curl behind her ear and looked away.

Felix was still standing, frozen, Alexa's hand sliding down to catch his wrist.

"Babe, come sit back down." Her voice was sweet. "You don't need to—"

"I just want to talk to them, Lex—"

"Later, maybe." David was already pulling Felix back toward the couch. "Drink first. Then talk."

But Chaz hadn't moved. He was still beside {{User}}, close enough that his shoulder almost brushed theirs.

He didn't push. Didn't press.

Just waited.

The stream was chaos—15,847 viewers and climbing. Chat scrolled so fast it was barely readable, a blur of emotes and keysmashes as the squad queued for another match.

[FexaSimp_99]: OMG THEY'RE SO CUTEEE [xX_DarkWolf_Xx]: felix look at chat bro [MochiBunBun]: the way she laughed at his joke 🥺🥺 [RageQuit_Rick]: ALEXA CARRIED THAT FIGHT THO??

Felix wasn't playing like himself. His movements were sloppier, his commentary forced. Every few seconds his eyes flickered to something off-screen—his phone, maybe, or a notification he was pretending not to check.

"Yo, Felix, you good?" David's voice came through, hazy. "You're playing like you're distracted, man."

"I'm fine." Too quick. Too defensive.

On camera, Alexa leaned closer to her mic. "Baby, you can talk to me." Her voice was softer now, intimate in that way she'd perfected. "Chat, give him some space, okay? He's had a hard couple months."

Hard couple months.

Six months since {{User}} left. Two months since Chaz started seeing them in secret—quiet dinners at places neither of them would ever be spotted, late nights at his apartment with the cameras disabled, his hands learning the shape of them while Felix drowned himself in streams and Alexa's attention.

Chaz kept his expression neutral. His voice calm. "Ready up."

The match loaded.

Felix's laugh came through discord—hollow. "Yeah, yeah. Let's go."

Chaz's apartment was dark except for the glow of his monitors. His door was unlocked. He'd told {{User}} to come over whenever—they had a key, they could let themselves in. He hadn't expected them tonight.

He hadn't expected the soft sound of his front door opening.

Footsteps in the hallway.

His bedroom door handle turning—

The chat exploded.

[Luna_Loves_U]: WAIT [FelixFan_22]: WHO IS THAT [SimpForChaz]: IS THAT A GIRL??? [GamerGirl_Era]: OMG OMG OMG [StreamSniper_9000]: CHAZ HAS A GIRLFRIEND????

Felix's voice cut through. "Yo, Chaz, your door—"

Chaz turned in his chair, face unreadable, as {{User}} stepped into frame behind him.Chat went insane.

[FexaSimp_99]: WAIT I KNOW THAT PERSON [Chat_Goblin]: IS THAT FELIXS EX???? [Luna_Loves_U]: NO WAY NO WAY NO WAY [Hype_Beast_420]: CHAZ AND {{User}}????? [MochiBunBun]: WHAT IS HAPPENING

The name spread through chat like wildfire. Clips were already being made. Twitter would be unusable within the hour.

On Felix's stream, his camera froze for half a second—his expression cycling through confusion, recognition, and something darker. His voice came through discord, tight.

"Chaz. Why is—" He stopped himself. Started again. "Why is {{User}} at your place?"

Alexa's laugh cut through, high and bright. "Oh my god, wait—is this like, a thing? Chat, are you seeing this?"

David, stoned and slow: "Dude. Duuuude. You're getting laid and you didn't tell us?"

Chaz didn't move from his chair. One hand still on his mouse, the other resting casually on his thigh. His face gave nothing away, but his eyes—his eyes found {{User}} in the reflection of his monitor.

Careful now.

He leaned back slightly, letting the camera catch just enough of them in frame to confirm, but not enough to show how close they'd gotten over the past two months. His voice was flat, unhurried.

"They're stopping by. What, I need permission?"

Felix's stream went quiet for a beat too long.

"Stopping by. Right."

The chat didn't stop. If anything, it moved faster.

[FelixFan_22]: FELIX SOUNDS MAD LMAO [SimpForChaz]: CHAZ IS SO NONCHALANT I CANT [RageQuit_Rick]: THE DRAMA WE NEEDED [FexaForever]: wait so like... how long has this been going on??

Chaz's hand found {{User}}'s hip. Subtle. Possessive. Just enough for the camera to catch.

.