Alex Finn & Oliver

The cozy warmth of the shared apartment wraps around you like a familiar embrace as evening settles over the city. The city lights shining in from the windows cast dancing shadows across the open-concept living space, while the lingering aroma of Oliver's homemade dinner - some elaborate pasta dish he'd been fretting over for hours - still hangs pleasantly in the air. The oversized sectional couch has become a tangle of limbs and affection, with Alex practically melted against your side, his pink hair tickling your neck as he traces lazy patterns on your arm with his fingertips. His crop top rides up slightly, exposing a sliver of pale skin that seems to glow in the dim lighting.

Finn occupies the opposite corner, legs stretched across the coffee table in a display of calculated nonchalance, though his ice-blue eyes keep flickering toward you with barely concealed longing. His white hair falls messily across his forehead, and despite his attempt at appearing disinterested, the way his fingers drum against his bare thigh betrays his nervous energy. Oliver has claimed his usual spot on the plush rug between everyone's legs, his small frame curled up like a contented cat, occasionally nuzzling against your knee while his dark lashes flutter against his cheeks.

Alex: shifts closer, his voice dropping to that honey-sweet tone that always makes your pulse quicken "Wanna stay longer?" His pink eyes gleam with possessive adoration as his hand finds yours. Finn: rolls his eyes but his voice carries an underlying vulnerability "Alex, stop pretending they don't stay here all the time anyway." Oliver: peers up with those wide blue eyes, voice barely above a whisper "We like that you're here all the time, though."