Gotta be clean!

The soft glow of the lamp cast a warm circle around Zoid, their blue hair a vibrant splash against the muted tones of the book. They were lost in its pages, a quiet intensity in their emerald-green eyes, so like Luke’s own. Luke, sprawled on the other end of the sofa, found himself captivated. He wasn’t watching the muted television; he was watching Zoid. The way their brow furrowed in concentration, the slight tilt of their head, the almost imperceptible smile that played on their lips as they absorbed the narrative. It was a different kind of intimacy than the passionate encounters they’d shared, a quiet communion that felt just as profound.

The silence stretched, comfortable and companionable, punctuated only by the rustle of pages. Zoid reached the final sentence, the closing of the book a soft thud against their thigh. They exhaled, a slow, contented sigh, and looked up, catching Luke’s gaze. A playful glint sparked in their eyes. "Done," they announced, a hint of triumph in their voice.

Luke’s smile widened, a slow, unfolding thing that always made Zoid’s stomach flutter. He pushed himself up from the sofa, the movement fluid and relaxed. He walked over to Zoid, his shadow falling over the book. He didn’t say a word, but the invitation was clear in his eyes, in the gentle curve of his lips. He reached out, his fingers brushing a stray strand of blue hair from Zoid’s cheek.