"Wait, wait... are you seriously supposed to do it that way?"

"Yeah." 𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖

"Nah. I’m pretty sure that’s not how the game works."

As usual, Blake ended up being right.

Though, honestly, that was only because Myles kept trying the dumbest possible choices out of pure curiosity.

He didn’t even care about winning half the time.

The moment the game gave him multiple options, he’d immediately pick the one that looked the most questionable just to see what would happen.

Which was exactly why the wooden board between them had become complete chaos.

The game itself was complicated enough already. Tiny tiles covered the bed in messy clusters, roads branching between villages, little carved figures scattered everywhere after Blake accidentally knocked the board with his elbow twenty minutes ago.

Settlers of Catan had started as a normal match!

Then Myles decided he wanted to "study resource distribution patterns."

Which apparently translated to intentionally sabotaging himself for entertainment.

"You traded all your wheat," Blake said slowly, staring at him like he was stupid. "You literally needed wheat to win."

"I wanted to see if brick-only expansion was viable."

"It obviously isn’t."

"It could’ve been."

Blake groaned dramatically, throwing himself back against the bed. "You did that last time, too."

Myles only hummed, calm as ever, studying the board like it was some kind of crime scene (that in real life, it would probably be caused by him)

The unfair part was that he still somehow remained difficult to beat.

Even while making terrible decisions on purpose, Myles adapted absurdly fast. Blake had won several rounds by now, but every victory felt less like genuine skill and more like surviving whatever bizarre experiment Myles was conducting.

"You know," Blake muttered while moving one of his roads, "this is wasting my time!"

"And yet you’re still having fun."

"That’s not the point."

"So I’m right."

"And that’s definitely not what I said."

Blake clicked his tongue and leaned over the board again.

"Okay, no, hold on. You can’t place that there."

"Why not?"

"Because my settlement’s connected already."

"I thought only direct adjacency mattered."

"It does direct-adjacency matter. That’s literally the problem."

Myles stared at the board for a few seconds before quietly moving the piece back.

"I see."

"You say that every single time."

"Because every single time you explain the rules differently."

"I am not?!"

"You are emotionally interpreting them."

"It’s the rulebook!"

"Rulebooks are subjective."

"You’re messing with me now."

"No."

"You definitely are."

"A little."

Blake burst out laughing despite himself.

Honestly, this was probably the most relaxed he’d seen Myles in a while.

Maybe because there wasn’t anybody else around to make him have fun.

’He just lived with no expectations of having fun or something.’

Hours passed without either noticing.

One game became three.

Three became seven.

At some point Blake had started keeping score on a random notebook page because he got competitive about it.

By the twentieth game, they were tied.

Ten wins for Blake.

Ten wins for Myles.

Well... technically.

Blake stared down at the tally marks with a deeply unimpressed expression.

"The fact that half your losses were intentional makes this feel fake."

"I lost fairly."

"Yeah, sure, but you deliberately made horrible choices."

Blake sighed loudly, dropping the notebook onto the bed beside him.

The annoying part was that if Myles had actually tried seriously the entire time, Blake he would’ve gotten crushed.

"Well," he grumbled, stretching his arms over his head, "next time you’re banned from experimenting, although I already said that last time."

Blake eventually pushed himself up and wandered toward his backpack tossed near the wall. "There’s gotta be something else in here..."

Myles watched silently as Blake dug through it.

Then Blake suddenly brightened.

"Oh."

He pulled out a ball, just an old rubber one with faded colors and scuff marks all over it.

Without warning, Blake tossed it directly at Myles.

Myles caught it instantly with one hand.

"I wanted to test your reflexes."

"You threw it at my face."

"You caught it, didn’t you?"

Myles looked down at the ball for a second before rolling it lazily between his fingers.

Blake leaned against the bedframe. "Did you ever play sports?"

Myles shook his head once.

Honestly, Blake believed him.

He really did.

But at the same time...

His eyes drifted briefly over Myles’ figure.

Even under the loose clothes he always wore, there was still something solid underneath that he got to touch a few times, although not directly.

Which made Blake wonder when the hell he even found time for that.

Evil stuff, normal life with school, hanging out with him... that was a lot of stuff to think about.

"You go to the gym or something?" Blake asked.

"I occasionally train."

"That’s it?"

"Yes."

Blake tilted his head before casually pointing toward Myles’ stomach. "Then why does it feel like a wall whenever I hug you?"

Myles stared at him blankly.

"After several years," he said flatly, "it would be strange if I hadn’t built some muscle."

"Well, I guess..."

"You’re the thinner one. Perhaps you should start training too."

Blake immediately leaned farther back against the bedframe, grumbling under his breath.

’In my old world I was perfectly fine, thanks. Height good, weight good, everything good.’

Blake crossed his arms instead. "I played soccer before, okay? I wasn’t weak."

"I didn’t say you were weak."

"You implied it."

"Not really."

A tiny pause followed before Blake squinted at him thoughtfully.

Actually, now that he thought about it...

Wouldn’t this be the perfect time to test his strength buff properly?

The idea appeared in his head and immediately refused to leave.

Blake abruptly straightened up before grabbing Myles’ hand.

"Arm wrestle me."

"No."

The refusal came instantly.

Blake blinked. "What? Why?"

"You’ll complain afterward."

"I will not."

"You will."

"It’s just for fun!"

Myles looked down at him silently.

Blake stared right back.

Unfortunately for Myles, Blake possessed a devastating weapon: the world’s most pitiful expression.

Meanwhile, Myles looked entirely unaffected because he wasn’t even trying to compete.

Still...

After several long seconds, Myles sighed quietly.

"Okay."

Blake grinned immediately.

Myles stood from the bed and walked toward the table instead, pulling out one of the chairs.

Blake hurried after him with a laugh, practically dropping into the seat across from him.

They locked hands.

Blake immediately realized two things.

First: Myles was definitely holding back.

Second: even while holding back, he was absurdly strong.

Their arms tensed against each other, neither moving at first. Blake pushed harder, trying to gauge just how much resistance he was dealing with.

Myles didn’t look strained in the slightest.

Which wasn’t insane.

Blake knew for a fact the strength enhancement he’d gotten wasn’t all that weak. Yet Myles was still matching him while looking relaxed.

He was deliberately controlling every ounce of force he used.

Blake knew that Myles could probably snap his arm accidentally if he stopped paying attention, so he was pretty grateful.

"Seriously?" Blake wheezed. "How are you this strong?"

And then his hand slammed against the table.

Defeat, of course.

Blake stared at their joined hands for a second before suddenly laughing.

"Okay, wow."

Myles let go immediately. "Are you injured?"

"No, no." Blake flexed his fingers dramatically before clapping once. "You’re actually the one stronger than he looks."

"What does that mean?"

"It means you look strong already, but somehow it’s worse."

Myles looked deeply unimpressed by the explanation.

Blake leaned forward across the table instead, suddenly curious again.

"Raise your sleeve."

Myles raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"I wanna inspect your arms."

After a moment, Myles rolled his sleeve upward slightly. Only to his forearm.

Blake immediately poked it.

’Yeah,’ Blake thought, impressed. ’That is definitely not normal.’

Myles lowered his gaze toward him. "Satisfied?"

"Nope."

"Why?"

"Why stop there?"

Myles said nothing.

Blake absentmindedly traced his finger lightly along his forearm while thinking.

’Maybe he has scars higher up, or something like that.’

Honestly... that wouldn’t surprise him.

For some reason, the thought made Blake’s chest ache a little.

"Blake, what is it."

"Nothing."

Blake smiled faintly before taking his hand again, intertwining their fingers this time. His thumb tapped lightly against Myles’ knuckles.

"Nothing," he said casually. "I was just really focused on your body."

Silence.

A horrible, horrible silence.

Blake realized what he’d just said.

Myles stared at him without blinking.

Blake felt secondhand embarrassment hit him with the force of a truck.

"I’m getting water."

He immediately stood up, abandoning Myles’ hand and speed-walking toward the kitchen area with a burning face.

’Jesus, what’s wrong with me?’

Why did every sentence come out sounding weird around this guy?

Blake grabbed the counter dramatically, then froze.

’Where are the glasses?’

Right.

He had no idea where anything was in this house.

Before he could recover, someone walked up behind him.

Blake turned too quickly and bumped directly into Myles.

Myles didn’t even move from the impact.

Without a word, he stepped around him, opened one of the cabinets, took out a glass, filled it with water, then handed it over calmly.

Blake accepted it.

"...Thanks."

He drank quickly just to avoid eye contact.

Unfortunately, that only gave him more time to think about his earlier sentence.

Myles leaned lightly against the counter beside him.

"Blake."

"Hm?"

"Do you want to stay over?"

Blake nearly spat the water out.

"What?!"

Myles blinked once. "Do you want to stay over?"

Blake stared at him in complete disbelief.

A sleepover?

With the final boss?

The same terrifying person who had technically drugged him before, or whatever that weird incident had been?

And yet...

Blake scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

The strange thing was...

He didn’t really think Myles would do something like that again.

Not now, while looking at him like this.

Not after spending hours arguing over board games and arm wrestling like complete idiots.

Myles waited patiently for an answer.

Blake looked away first.

"...I mean," he mumbled, "I guess I could."