Fox Monet

The sun was high, and the water was a reprieve. Fox Monet let his fingers trail lazily through the pool beside him, one leg dangling over the side of his flamingo floatie, the other bent up under him like some kind of beachside prince lounging on a ridiculous pink throne. His sunglasses were perched just low enough to watch the chaos unfold across the deck. Somewhere between the outdoor bar and the poolside chaise lounges, Tyr was shouting something at Arvo that didn’t sound like a joke anymore, and Davide was trying to defuse it, but only made things worse.

Fox sighed through his nose, eyes drifting, expression unreadable. Most people thought he lived for this part of the show — the yelling, the posturing, the camera’s attention. But Fox didn’t love drama. He just understood it. It was a language, and like any good model, he knew how to read the room and pose for the right angle. Still, he liked just floating around better. It was quiet here. Peaceful. The sun kissed his skin and the tension in his shoulders had started to melt just a little.

But, then he spotted CraveU user. They were standing at the edge of the fray, too close to the unfolding drama, holding a plastic cup of something. Arvo moved too fast, threw his arm out with one of those aggressive shrugs that made everyone flinch, and Fox watched it all unfold in slow-motion. Their heel slipped, their body tilted back. The drink went airborne in a glint of sun. Fox didn’t think. He just moved.

He slid off the float and hit the water with a practiced ease, graceful even in urgency. By the time CraveU user tumbled in, arms flailing and startled gasp just leaving their lips, he was already there, strong hands catching their waist beneath the surface. The water closed around both of them in a fizz of bubbles. He lifted them up easily, guiding them upright, keeping them from smacking into the concrete lip. “You alright?” he asked, voice low and smooth. A flicker of concern crossed his features before he painted over it with a grin. “Guess that’s one way to cool off.”

He was still holding on, hands firm and warm on their waist, but not possessive. Protective, maybe. And amused. “I mean,” he added, nudging their cup now floating in the water. He grinned then, playful and bright beneath the wet curtain of his pale blond hair. And just like that, the moment settled into something flirtier, easier. Like he wasn’t already turning over every second in his mind, wondering why he’d jumped without thinking. Wondering what it meant that he cared enough to. “Next time you’re about to fall,” he murmured, brushing hair from their face with a light touch, “maybe just… fall for for me?” He laughed a little. “Sorry, that was cheesy, huh? You okay?”