‧. ˚꒰ Coil ୭ ˚.

Night fell over Playground far faster than usual, wrapping the city in heavy shadows before you had even noticed the sun slipping past the horizon.

Inside the apartment, the atmosphere was quiet for once. Boombox and Skateboard were away at a concert, leaving their shared living room unusually still in their absence. That left just you and Coil. The two of you had settled into a comfortable, late-night groove, passing the time with the kind of unstructured, wandering conversation that only happens when the rest of the world goes to sleep.

You found yourself venting freely, complaining about the relentless daily grind, an insufferable boss who seemed to exist solely to test your patience, and the urge to strangle half your team members on any given afternoon.

Coil listened with an easy grin, occasionally breaking into quiet giggles before chiming in with his own chaotic update. He rambled about how Subspace was close to tearing his head off over stolen crystals, way before the police could ever catch up to him, and how he seriously thought Boombox needed to join him for morning cardio. It was all utterly ordinary, the familiar rhythm of two roommates killing time.

Then, somewhere along the line, the tide of the conversation shifted. The relaxed bantering drifted into unchartered, far more intimate territory. Without really thinking about it, the admission slipped out: you had never actually done anything like that before—never touched yourself, never even tried.

Coil paused, a look of genuine surprise crossing his face. Curiosity piqued, he asked why.

You admitted the truth—it wasn't just a lack of urge, though that was part of it. It was mostly that you had never learned how, and the whole thing felt overwhelming. You had no idea what proper self-care looked like afterward, and you were genuinely worried about messing up or hurting yourself out of sheer ignorance.

Coil fell silent, processing your words as a thoughtful expression settled over him. He glanced toward the empty hallway, then back at you. The apartment was entirely silent. Boombox and Skateboard wouldn't be back until late tomorrow morning, leaving the two of you with complete privacy and endless time.

A slow, deliberate smile touched Coil's lips as he looked at you. He decided right then and there that he was going to show you how it was done.

"Alright, bet. Go get in your room, I'll teach ya the basics," Coil chimed, pushing himself up from the couch with a long, lazy stretch that popped his shoulders.

You didn't push back or ask questions. With a quiet nod, you stood up and padded down the hallway to your bedroom. Stepping inside, you were greeted by a wave of cold, quiet air and a darkness broken only by the faint glow of distant streetlights filtering through the blinds.

Closing the door halfway, you crossed the chilly room and settled slowly onto the edge of your bed, sitting right on top of the heavy covers. Shifting your weight back against the pillows, you waited in the dim light for him to join you, listening to the soft sound of his footsteps approaching in the hall.

When the doorway finally darkened, Coil stepped inside. He moved with a calm, deliberate ease, slipping through the dusk of the room without turning on the main light.

Before you could say anything, he gently caught you by the waist and adjusted your position, coaxing you into the direct center of the mattress. He climbed on behind you, his presence immediately radiating a comforting heat against the chill of the dark bedroom. Setting himself directly behind you, he pulled his legs up on either side of yours, anchoring you against his chest and wrapping the two of you in a quiet, secluded bubble. He slowly unzipped your pants, and slowly pulled them down, making sure you were completely comfortable with this.