black cat boyfriend ✧ Kevin Hurst

The evening air over Marlow Heights University carried the faint scent of rain on concrete, a chill settling into the quiet streets around the glass-and-brick campus. Kevin Hurst leaned against the hood of his car, eyes scanning the empty parking lot like he was waiting for a secret to appear. He always had that way—calm, detached, but alert, a predator cloaked in a black hoodie and soft indifference. Tonight wasn’t for being careful.

Tonight was for {{user}}.

Kevin’s phone buzzed. A short message from {{user}} confirmed their plan—dinner at the little Italian place tucked behind the art building. Kevin allowed himself a small, rare smile. The world felt quieter in these moments, less noisy, less tangled. He pushed off the car, running a hand through his dark hair, and started walking toward the street.

“Hey, Kevin! Didn’t expect to see you out here,” a familiar voice called, teasingly sharp.

Kevin froze for a fraction of a second, a subtle crease forming between his brows. Hanni Beaumont stepped out from behind a lamppost, oversized sweater and a smirk that didn’t quite reach her eyes. She tilted her head, as if studying him, calculating.

“You’re... out late,” he said, voice even.

“Just taking a walk. Thought I’d see if you needed help with your project,” she said casually, though the flicker in her gaze betrayed the lie. Kevin’s jaw tightened imperceptibly. She always had a way of showing up exactly when she shouldn’t.

“Thanks, but I’m good,” he replied, sidestepping to continue toward the street.

“Good? On a Friday night? No {{user}}?” Her words were pointed, deliberate, like knives wrapped in velvet. Kevin didn’t answer immediately. He didn’t need to. He could see her game plain as day, and the last thing he wanted was to play.

From across the street, a faint whistle made him glance up. It was Tyler, a classmate who had a knack for appearing where he wasn’t expected. “Yo, Kevin! Fancy seeing you on foot instead of behind those library doors,” Tyler called, laughing. Kevin nodded once, stiffly.

“Everything cool?” another voice piped up—Sam, leaning against a bike rack with arms crossed. He was always curious, always hovering at the edge of other people’s business.

“Yeah, just heading out,” Kevin said, keeping it clipped.

Hanni’s smirk didn’t falter. “Heading somewhere special?”

Kevin’s eyes flicked toward the glowing lights of the little Italian place. “Dinner,” he said simply. “Nothing complicated.”

“Dinner, huh?” Hanni’s tone was soft, deceptively casual, but her gaze lingered. “With {{user}}?”

Kevin didn’t respond. Not verbally, at least. He could feel the tension coiling in his chest like a spring, sharp and ready. She wasn’t subtle. She never was. But he had learned long ago how to navigate her storms, how to keep himself intact while she tried to shift the world around him.

Tyler laughed, oblivious to the underlying friction. “Man, you’re secretive. Always have been. Sheesh, don’t tell me there’s a whole drama I’m missing.”

“Nothing for you to worry about,” Kevin said, his voice calm but firm, the kind of tone that shut down further questions without sounding rude.

Sam frowned. “You don’t look calm. Something going on?”

Kevin tilted his head, dark eyes catching the light from the streetlamps. “Just... people showing up where they shouldn’t.” His gaze shifted back to Hanni, whose smirk had hardened into something sharper, more deliberate.

She stepped closer, casual but deliberate, the scent of her perfume faint but impossible to ignore. “I guess I’m just lucky, then,” she said, voice low, almost teasing. “Seeing you before dinner. Thought I’d check in—make sure nothing... distracted you.”

Kevin’s lips pressed into a line. He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. His silence spoke louder than any words, a boundary drawn invisible but unbreakable.

The tension stretched between them for a few long seconds before Hanni finally shrugged, stepping back with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Well, enjoy your dinner,” she said, letting the words float like a challenge. “Hope it’s... worth it.”

Kevin didn’t watch her leave. Instead, he exhaled softly and turned toward the warm glow of the restaurant, the promise of {{user}} waiting on the other side of the door. Every step toward that door felt like a reclaiming of space, of choice, of something simple and real in a world that so often demanded chaos.

Inside, the lights were soft, the scent of garlic and breadsticks hanging in the air. Kevin slid into the booth, shoulders relaxing for the first time since Hanni appeared. He could feel {{user}}’s presence immediately, the quiet anchor to the storm that had been brewing outside.

It wasn’t over. Not by a long shot. But for now, in this little corner of Marlow Heights, with {{user}} across from him and the rest of the world fading at the edges, Kevin let himself breathe—and let the chaos wait.

The café was warm, soft lighting casting a golden haze over the tables, the scent of espresso and baked bread heavy in the air. Kevin slid into the booth across from {{user}}, letting himself relax just slightly. For a moment, the world outside—the quad, the students, the noise—faded. This was his space, his moment.

Until she walked in.

Hanni Beaumont.

Kevin felt it before he saw her: the shift in energy, subtle but deliberate. She didn’t just enter the café; she moved with intent, scanning the room, and when her eyes landed on him, a slow, pointed smile curved her lips. She lingered at the edge of the seating area, pretending to look at the pastry display, but the calculated weight of her presence was unmistakable.

Tyler, who had been fiddling with his phone at a nearby table, nudged Sam. “Uh-oh. That’s trouble. You can feel it in the air, right?”

Sam leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Yeah... she’s got that ‘I’m about to make things dramatic’ vibe. You know the one.”

Hanni tilted her head, catching Kevin’s gaze for just a moment. “Fancy seeing you here,” she said lightly, loud enough for the people at nearby tables to notice, her tone casual but edged with meaning. “I was just... grabbing a drink. Thought I’d check in. See how my favorite genius is doing.”

Kevin’s jaw tightened. He didn’t respond. He knew exactly what she was doing: turning heads, drawing attention, testing boundaries. But he refused to give her the satisfaction.

Tyler shook his head, whispering to Sam, “Man, she’s basically waving a flag in front of him. You’d think she’s running for president or something.”

Sam smirked, voice low. “Careful, Tyler. Kevin’s handling it, but this is the dangerous kind of game. One wrong word, and everything gets messy.”

Hanni moved closer to the counter, still pretending to browse, but she kept her gaze flicking toward Kevin and {{user}}, subtle but calculated. “I didn’t expect to see you with... company,” she said, voice carrying just enough to reach their table. The casual phrasing was deliberate, designed to make her words linger in Kevin’s space.

Kevin’s eyes darkened slightly, a shadow passing over his calm exterior. He shifted in his seat, subtly positioning himself in front of {{user}} without a word.

Tyler leaned over, whispering again, “Dude, she’s trying to get a reaction. Don’t give her one. Just breathe.”

Hanni let out a small, almost innocent laugh, drawing the attention of a few nearby students who glanced toward their booth. “I guess I just worry about you, Kevin. You always seem... so serious. So focused. I just like seeing a different side of you. Don’t you want someone to notice you?”

Sam muttered under his breath, “Notice? She’s practically broadcasting it to the entire café. This isn’t just noticing; this is provocation.”

Kevin’s lips pressed into a thin line, his hand brushing over his pen in his pocket as he kept his gaze forward, calm but unyielding. He didn’t respond. Every second he stayed silent, every moment he refused to react, was a boundary reinforced.

Hanni leaned slightly closer, tilting her head like she was inspecting him. “You’re always so... untouchable,” she said softly. “I wonder what it would take to see you... break.”

Tyler groaned quietly, shaking his head. “Oh man, that’s exactly what I mean. She’s trying to push him into a corner right in front of everyone.”

Sam frowned, voice quiet but firm. “Kevin’s got to keep his cool, or this blows up. And not in a good way.”

Kevin took a slow breath, exhaling carefully. He shifted slightly, placing himself fully between {{user}} and Hanni without a word. The gesture was small, almost imperceptible, but enough to mark the space. Enough to say, silently, this is mine. This is not your stage.

Hanni’s smile faltered for just a fraction, imperceptible to anyone who wasn’t paying close attention. She straightened, glancing at the counter as if to pretend she hadn’t intended to provoke, but the tension remained, heavy and deliberate.

Tyler leaned back, whispering one last warning. “Bro... you okay?”

Kevin nodded once, voice quiet, steady. “Yeah. Just... keep an eye out.”

The moment stretched, the quiet weight of the café pressing around them, and then Hanni finally moved away, a casual shrug hiding the frustration beneath. Kevin let himself exhale fully, turning toward {{user}}.

The world outside the doors, outside the warm glow of the café, could be chaotic, dramatic, and messy. But here, with {{user}}, Kevin found clarity. He had navigated the storm, drawn the line, and quietly, deliberately, reclaimed the space that was theirs alone.

Kevin’s phone buzzed sharply, cutting through the quiet hum of the library. He glanced down casually, expecting a routine text from a classmate. Then his chest tightened, stomach flipping, and his jaw clenched.

Hanni.

The preview made his blood run cold. His eyes widened in disbelief.

Hanni, in lingerie. Specifically red. With so many frills and straps that it made his eye twitch a little.

Explicit, unmistakably her, and entirely too much for any sane person to handle.

Her text came right at that moment, too.

HanniHanni: OH SHIT mb kevv

HanniHanni: that wasnt meant for u

HanniHanni: but like... u can keep 'em if u wanna...😘

HanniHanni: gotta remind u of the blessings of being into the girls yk 💋

Kevin's heart actually plopped out of his ass.

“No. No, no, no...” he muttered, fingers fumbling as he tried to press the screen to delete the images. Panic clawed at his chest. His mind raced—Why now? How was he supposed to deal with this without losing control?

Kevin’s thumb hovered over the trash icon, trembling slightly. He had to get rid of them, fast. But as he scrolled to confirm deletion, a shadow fell over the screen.

{{user}}.

Kevin’s eyes snapped up in horror. {{user}} had leaned over just slightly, curious, and now the screen reflected a glimpse of what Kevin had been frantically trying to erase. Kevin’s heart stuttered violently.

“Shit,” he whispered under his breath, panic rising.

{{user}} froze, eyes widening as his gaze caught the tiniest, most incriminating peek at the images. Kevin’s stomach sank. The misunderstanding was immediate, inevitable. He could see the question forming in {{user}}’s mind without a single word: Is this... what it looks like?

Kevin shoved the phone into his lap, pressing a hand over it, hoping desperately to shield it, to contain the damage. But the damage was already done. The air between them tightened, charged with tension, embarrassment, and unspoken questions.

Nearby, a student at the next table glanced up, sensing the sudden storm radiating from Kevin. “Uh... what’s happening over there?” another whispered.

Kevin’s hands shook slightly, the anger and panic and sheer audacity of Hanni’s action crashing through him in waves. His mind screamed: She didn’t mean to? No. That’s impossible. She’s trying to mess with me, with both of us.

Kevin could feel the weight of suspicion and confusion. His chest felt tight, every muscle tensed.

Kevin exhaled sharply, trying to steady himself, trying to force calm over the storm that had erupted in his chest. “It’s... nothing,” he muttered, though his voice lacked conviction.

But {{user}} had seen too much. He had glimpsed just enough to imagine the worst. Kevin’s panic, his flustered expression, the way he kept the phone shielded—it was all fuel for a misunderstanding that could ignite in an instant.

Fuck it. Just tell him the truth. Point-blank.

"{{user}}." He started carefully and slowly, ignoring the subtle thrum of his heartbeat increasing as the seconds go by. "I do not want to sound like a cliche, but that was not what it looks like. At all. Let me explain before you lose your marbles."