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Valentine’s Day at Easton Magic Academy was a disaster by design.
The academy grounds had been transformed overnight into something unholy, pink banners draped over gothic stone, heart-shaped magical constructs floating lazily in the air, glittering like they were mocking everyone who didn’t have someone to hold hands with. Students clustered together in pairs, laughing too loudly, blushing too much.
Dot Barrett hated all of it. He leaned against a stone pillar near the courtyard, arms crossed, scowl permanently etched into his face. A pink envelope fluttered past his head. He slapped it away on instinct.
“Stupid holiday,” he muttered.
It wasn’t that he hated romance. Not really. He just hated watching everyone else have it.
“Dot.”
His spine stiffened. That voice, calm, composed, annoyingly perfect, could only belong to one person.
He turned slowly, already preparing a snarky comeback, and there was Lance Crown. Standing a few steps away, immaculate as ever. Blue hair catching the light, cloak neatly fastened, posture straight like he was born superior.
Dot’s heart betrayed him immediately, kicking hard against his ribs.
“What,” Dot said flatly. “Come to brag about how many love letters you got?”
Lance frowned. “I didn’t receive any.”
Dot snorted. “Yeah, right.”
“I threw them away,” Lance added, matter-of-fact.
Dot blinked. “You what?”
“They were distracting.”
Dot stared at him for a second, then laughed. “You’re unbelievable.”
Lance shifted, clearly uncomfortable. He didn’t leave, though. That alone set Dot on edge.
“Are you busy today?” Lance asked.
Dot raised an eyebrow. “Why? Gonna lecture me about punching heart decorations?”
“No,” Lance said. “I wanted to talk.”
Something in his tone made Dot straighten. “Okay,” he said slowly. “Talk.”
Lance hesitated. He looked away, jaw tightening, fingers curling slightly at his side.
“I have a date this evening,” Lance said.
Dot felt the words before he understood them. “Oh,” he replied, too quickly. “Wow. Look at you.”
Lance nodded once. “It’s… my first.”
Dot laughed, loud and forced. “Figures. Mr. Perfect finally decides to join the rest of us mortals.”
“It’s with a girl,” Lance added.
That was the part that hurt.
Dot’s smile faltered, just for a second, hopefully too fast for Lance to notice. “Well,” he said, shrugging, “good luck with that.”
There was an awkward silence. Students passed by, giggling, exchanging chocolates. Dot suddenly felt like he was standing still while the world kept moving.
“I need your help,” Lance said quietly.
Dot blinked. “Me?”
“Yes.”
Dot barked out a laugh. “You sure you’ve got the right guy?”
Lance looked directly at him now. “You’re honest.”
Dot’s chest tightened.
“And,” Lance continued, “you won’t treat it lightly.”
Dot swallowed. “Okay. Help with what?”
Lance inhaled, clearly bracing himself. “I’ve never kissed anyone.”
Dot’s heart stopped. “Excuse me?”
“I want to practice,” Lance said. “Before tonight.”
Dot stared at him, incredulous. “You want to… practice kissing? With me?”
“Yes.”
Dot laughed again, but it came out wrong. “You’re insane.”
“Dot…”
“You seriously came to me,” Dot snapped, “to use me as rehearsal before you go kiss some girl?”
Lance flinched. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he said quickly. “I just—”
“Yeah, well, that’s how it sounds.”
Dot turned away, fists clenched. His chest burned, hot and sharp.
Of course. Of course Lance would trust him. Of course Lance would feel safe with him. Because Dot was just Dot. Loud. Reliable. Someone who’d always be there, but never the one chosen.
“I won’t do it if you don’t want to,” Lance said softly. “I’ll understand.”
Dot closed his eyes. He wanted to scream. To punch something. To confess everything and ruin it all. Instead, he sighed.
“Tch. You’re such a pain,” Dot muttered. “You know that?”
Lance looked up, hope flickering in his eyes.
Dot turned back, stepping closer. Way too close. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll help. But you owe me.”
Lance nodded immediately. “Anything.”
Dot forced a grin. “Relax. It’s just a kiss.”
It wasn’t. At least for Dot.
They stood there, tension thick between them. Lance looked nervous now, hands stiff at his sides, eyes flicking to Dot’s lips and back up again. Dot’s heart ached at the sight.
“Do I just…” Lance began.
“God, pretty boy,” Dot said, voice low. “Stop thinking so much.”
He leaned in before he could lose his nerve. Their lips touched. It was gentle. Awkward. Lance barely pressed forward, like he was afraid of crossing a line.
Dot’s breath caught. He shouldn’t do this. Shouldn’t respond. Shouldn’t…
He kissed back. Just slightly. Enough to guide Lance, to show him how to relax, how to breathe. Lance made a soft sound, barely audible, and Dot’s chest tightened painfully. The world faded.
When they pulled apart, Dot was shaking.
“There,” Dot said hoarsely. “That’s it.”
Lance stared at him, eyes dark, expression unreadable. “Thank you,” Lance said.
Dot nodded, forcing himself to step back. “Yeah. No problem. Go knock her dead.”
Lance didn’t move. “There is… no girl,” he said.
Dot froze. “What.”
“I… lied,” Lance admitted. His voice wavered now. “I was afraid.”
“Afraid of what?” Dot whispered.
“Of you rejecting me,” Lance said. “Of… losing this.”
Dot’s breath hitched.
“I like you,” Lance said quietly.
Dot laughed, a broken sound. “You’re joking.”
“I’m not.”
“You…” Dot’s voice cracked. “You had me thinking… Do you know how much that hurt?!”
“I’m sorry,” Lance said immediately. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Dot looked at him, really looked. At the fear in his eyes. The vulnerability.
“You’re such an idiot,” Dot said softly. “You could’ve just asked.”
Lance stepped closer again. “Would you kiss me again?” he asked. “Not for practice.”
Dot’s heart felt like it might explode. He grabbed Lance by the collar and kissed him properly this time. Slow. Deep. Real.
This was new territory, dangerous territory, but Dot’s fingers stayed curled in Lance’s collar like letting go would send him spiraling back into that hollow, lonely place he’d lived in for far too long.
Lance didn’t pull away either. Instead, slowly, carefully, his hands came up and rested at Dot’s sides. Not gripping. Not claiming. Just… there. Like he was asking permission without words.
Dot broke the kiss first, breath uneven. “You’re really bad at this whole honesty thing, you know that?”
Lance nodded, forehead still close to Dot’s. “I’m trying to get better.”
Dot huffed out a shaky laugh. “You picked one hell of a day to start.”
Around them, the courtyard was still alive with laughter and floating hearts and the faint sound of someone confessing dramatically near the fountain. It felt unreal, like the world hadn’t caught up to what had just happened.
“So,” Dot said, forcing some bravado back into his voice, “what now, huh? You just drop a confession like that and expect me not to freak out?”
“I wouldn’t blame you if you did,” Lance said quietly.
Dot looked at him sharply. “That’s not an answer.”
Lance hesitated. “I don’t want to hide anymore. Not from you.”
Dot swallowed hard. “You know I’ve liked you for a long time, right?”
Lance stiffened. “I… kinda suspected.”
Dot scoffed. “Of course you did. And you still went and pulled that fake-date crap.”
“I panicked,” Lance admitted. “I thought if I said it was for someone else, you wouldn’t feel pressured.”
Dot stared at him. “You made it worse.”
“I know.”
There was silence again, but this one felt different. Heavy, but not sharp. More like the quiet after a storm, when everything’s soaked and fragile and real.
“Were you really going to go on a date today?” Dot asked finally.
“No,” Lance said immediately. “I planned to spend the evening alone. I don’t enjoy Valentine’s Day.”
Dot snorted. “Same.”
Lance glanced at him. “You don’t?”
“Not when I’m watching everyone else be happy,” Dot muttered.
Lance’s gaze softened in a way that made Dot’s chest ache all over again.
“Then,” Lance said slowly, “would you be happy if you spent it with me?”
Dot blinked. “Like, seriously?"
“Yes.”
Dot laughed, incredulous. “Lance, we just kissed in the courtyard.”
“And I’d like to do it again,” Lance said, ears turning pink. “Somewhere more private, if you want.”
Dot felt his face heat up. “You’re bold all of a sudden.”
“I’m terrified,” Lance corrected. “But I don’t want to regret not asking.”
Dot looked away, heart pounding. He could still back out. Say it was a mistake. Pretend this was just another weird Easton day. But then he felt Lance’s fingers tighten slightly at his sleeve.
“Okay,” Dot said softly. “Yeah. I’ll stay.”
The relief on Lance’s face was immediate and painfully sincere.
They ended up walking toward the quieter edge of the grounds, away from the crowds. The path was lined with bare winter trees, faintly glowing with enchantments meant to look romantic. Dot would’ve rolled his eyes at it any other day. Now, he barely noticed.
They sat on a low stone wall near the training fields, close enough that their shoulders brushed. Dot could feel Lance’s presence like static, every small movement sending sparks up his spine.
“You’re quiet,” Dot said after a while.
“I’m thinking,” Lance replied.
“About what?.”
Lance gave a small smile. “I’m thinking about how I almost lost you.”
Dot glanced at him. “You didn’t.”
“I could have,” Lance said. “If you’d said no.”
Dot’s throat tightened. “But I didn’t.”
Lance turned fully toward him. “Why?”
Dot hesitated, then shrugged. “Because even if it hurts, I’d rather be there for you than not be at all.”
Lance’s expression broke. It was subtle, just a tiny crack in his composure, but Dot saw it.
Lance reached out, slow and careful, and took Dot’s hand. Dot didn’t pull away.
“I don’t want to be someone who hurts you,” Lance said. “I don’t want you to settle for being ‘there’ for me.”
Dot laughed weakly. “You make it sound so simple.”
“It isn’t,” Lance said. “But I want to try. With you.”
Dot squeezed his hand. “Yeah… me too.”
They leaned in again, this kiss different from the others. Unhurried. Certain. Lance’s hand slid up to Dot’s wrist, thumb brushing over his pulse like he was grounding himself.
When they pulled apart, Dot rested his forehead against Lance’s shoulder, exhaustion and warmth settling in.
“You know,” Dot murmured, “if anyone finds out about this, I’m denying everything.”
Lance huffed quietly. “Of course you are.”
Dot smirked. “Pretty boy?”
“Yes?”
“Next time you want to kiss me,” Dot said, heart steady for once, “just ask.”
Lance’s fingers tightened around his hand. “There will be a next time?”
Dot looked up at him, grin soft but sure. “Count on it.”
Lance stayed silent after that. Not the awkward kind of silence, Dot knew that one well, but the thoughtful kind, like Lance was carefully arranging something fragile in his mind.
Dot leaned back on his hands, staring up at the enchanted sky. The floating hearts had drifted this far too, dimmer here, glowing softly like embers.
“So,” Dot said eventually, unable to help himself, “what now, huh? You confess, we kiss, we pretend Valentine’s Day doesn’t suck… is this where you suddenly remember you’re a dignified Lance Crown and panic?”
Lance exhaled through his nose. “I already panicked. Earlier.”
“Fair.”
“But now,” Lance continued, turning to face him fully, “I’m… oddly calm.”
Dot glanced at him. “That so?”
“Yes,” Lance said. “Being honest helped.”
Dot swallowed. His fingers twitched, wanting to reach out again. “Good,” he said, trying to sound casual. “Because I don’t think I could survive another emotional ambush today.”
Lance tilted his head. “You’re stronger than you think.”
Dot laughed. “You say that like I don’t explode things when I’m stressed.”
“That too,” Lance admitted. “But you stayed.”
Dot looked away. “Yeah.”
They sat there for a while, shoulders pressed together, the winter air cool but not uncomfortable. Dot could feel Lance’s warmth through the fabric of his uniform. It was distracting. Comforting. Terrifying.
“Can I ask you something?” Lance said.
Dot tensed automatically. “Depends. Is it gonna wreck me emotionally?”
Lance’s lips twitched. “Possibly.”
“Great. Go on.”
“When did you start liking me?” Lance asked.
Dot groaned softly, tipping his head back. “You really don’t hold back now, do you?”
“I don’t want to guess,” Lance said. “I want to know.”
Dot hesitated, then sighed. “Back during the Selection exam. When everyone was losing their minds and you still stood your ground.”
Lance blinked. “That early?”
“Yeah,” Dot muttered. “You were always annoying. Calm. Self-righteous. But you cared. About your sister. About doing the right thing. And you never treated me like a joke.”
Lance looked genuinely stunned. “I thought you hated me,” he said.
Dot scoffed. “I did. I still do.”
“I see.”
Dot glanced at him. “What about you, then? When did you start liking me?”
Lance was quiet for a long moment.
“The first time I saw you stand up for someone,” he said finally. “Even when it got you hurt. You were loud and reckless, but… sincere. I admired that.”
Dot felt his face heat up. “You admired me?”
“Yes.”
Dot laughed, embarrassed. “You’re terrible at flirting.”
“I’m not flirting,” Lance said. “I’m being honest.”
“That’s worse.”
Lance smiled faintly.
The wind picked up, rustling the trees. Dot shivered without realizing it. Immediately, Lance shrugged off his cloak and draped it over Dot’s shoulders.
Dot froze. “Hey, I already have mine.”
“But you’re still cold,” Lance said simply.
Dot looked down at the cloak, then back up at Lance. “You’re really doing this, huh.”
“Yes.”
Dot pulled the cloak closer, heart thudding. “You’re gonna ruin me.”
“I hope not,” Lance said softly. “But I won’t pretend I don’t want to.”
He reached out, hesitating just a second before tucking a strand of hair behind Dot’s ear. The touch was gentle, almost reverent.
“Dot,” Lance said quietly, “may I kiss you again?”
Dot didn’t answer with words. He leaned in, closing the distance himself.
This kiss was slower. More confident. Lance’s hands rested at Dot’s waist now, grounding, steady. Dot responded instinctively, fingers sliding into Lance’s cloak, pulling him closer. There was no rush. No uncertainty. Just warmth.
When they broke apart, Dot rested his forehead against Lance’s.
“So,” Dot murmured, voice low, “guess you don’t need practice anymore.”
Lance let out a soft laugh. “No.”
Dot smirked. “Good. ‘Cause I’m not sharing.”
Lance’s eyes widened just slightly. “You aren’t?”
Dot met his gaze, heart pounding, but sure. “Not a chance.”
Lance smiled, really smiled, and for once, it wasn’t restrained or careful.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Dot,” he said.
Dot snorted, but his grip tightened on Lance’s cloak. “Yeah… happy Valentine’s Day, idiot.”
They stayed there until the sky darkened and the floating hearts slowly faded, neither of them in any hurry to leave. They didn’t move when the bells rang for evening roll call.
Dot noticed it distantly, the echo rolling across the grounds, students groaning and scattering back toward the dorms, but neither of them stood up.
Lance’s cloak was still around Dot’s shoulders, heavy and warm, like proof that this wasn’t something Dot had imagined.
“We’re going to get in trouble,” Dot said eventually.
Lance hummed softly. “Probably.”
Dot glanced at him. “You don’t sound bothered.”
“I’m not,” Lance replied. “This seems worth it.”
Dot’s chest tightened again. He really needed Lance to stop saying things like that unless he wanted Dot to completely lose it.
They finally stood, walking slowly back toward the main building. Not touching, at least not obviously, but close enough that Dot could feel Lance’s presence with every step. Their shoulders brushed once, twice, and neither of them corrected it.
The halls were quieter now, the Valentine’s decorations dimmed for the evening. Candlelight flickered along the walls. It felt… intimate. Dangerous, in a way that made Dot hyperaware of every sound.
They stopped near a side corridor rarely used at night. Dot leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, heart racing again.
“So,” Dot said, trying to ground himself, “are we… what are we actually?”
Lance blinked. “You mean…”
“Don’t make me say it,” Dot interrupted. “I already confessed once today. That’s my limit.”
Lance considered him carefully. “I would like us to be… together.”
Dot swallowed. “Like, actually?”
“Yes.”
Dot let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “Okay. Yeah. Me too.”
Lance’s shoulders relaxed, like he’d just won a battle he hadn’t been sure he could survive. “Can I walk you back to your room?” Lance asked.
Dot smirked. “You asking me on a date now or something?”
Lance hesitated, then nodded. “Yes.”
Dot laughed, warmth blooming in his chest. “Took you long enough.”
They walked side by side through the academy, night air crisp and clear. The moon hung low, casting silver light over the stone paths. Dot kicked at a pebble absently, mind racing.
“You know,” Dot said, “we’re gonna have to deal with people finding out eventually.”
“I know.”
“Finn is gonna scream.”
“I know.”
“And Mash,” Dot added. “Mash is gonna stare at us for five minutes and then say something weird.”
Lance smiled faintly. “I’m prepared.”
They stopped outside Dot’s room. The building loomed quietly, windows glowing softly.
Neither of them moved. Dot glanced up at him, moonlight catching in Lance’s hair. He still had the cloak. Still had Lance’s warmth wrapped around him. Still had that unreal feeling in his chest, like one wrong breath might shatter it.
Dot turned to face Lance, suddenly nervous again. “So… this is the part where we say goodnight?”
“Yes,” Lance said. Then, after a beat, “Unless you’d prefer something else.”
Dot’s heart skipped. “Like what?”
Lance stepped closer. “Like… another kiss.”
Dot didn’t tease him this time. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Lance’s lips, gentle, lingering, unafraid.
Lance responded immediately, hands coming up to rest at Dot’s back, holding him like he belonged there.
When they parted, Dot rested his forehead against Lance’s.
“You’re staying with me, right?”
Lance stilled. “In your…” he paused, clearly processing. “...In your room?”
Dot’s face burned. “I mean, only if you want to. We don’t have to… I just…” he stopped, frustrated, then forced himself to meet Lance’s eyes. “...I don’t really want to be alone tonight.”
The honesty hung between them.
Lance’s expression softened immediately. “Yes,” he said, without hesitation. “I want to stay.”
Dot exhaled shakily. “Really?”
“Yes,” Lance repeated. “If you’ll have me.”
Dot laughed under his breath. “God, you make everything sound so formal.”
But he turned and opened the door anyway.
Dot’s room was… very Dot. Slightly messy, books stacked haphazardly, scorch marks on one corner of the desk from a spell gone wrong. A half-finished Valentine’s chocolate abandoned on the windowsill like a forgotten joke.
Lance looked around, curious rather than judgmental. “It suits you,” he said.
Dot snorted. “That’s not a compliment, I guess.”
“It is,” Lance replied calmly.
Dot shut the door behind them, suddenly hyperaware of how small the room felt with Lance in it. The silence pressed in, thick and charged.
“You can sit,” Dot said, gesturing awkwardly to the bed. “Or, uh… stand. Or whatever.”
Lance removed his cloak and folded it carefully before placing it over the back of Dot’s chair.
“I don’t mind,” he said. “Anywhere is fine.”
Dot sat first, more out of nerves than intention. The mattress dipped under his weight.
A moment later, Lance sat beside him. Close. Not touching, but close enough that Dot could feel the heat from his arm.
They sat there, shoulders almost brushing, the quiet stretching until Dot thought he might lose his mind.
“You okay?” Dot asked quietly.
Lance nodded. “I am now.”
Dot swallowed. “Good.”
Another pause. Then Lance spoke, softer than before. “Thank you. For trusting me.”
Dot scoffed gently. “Don’t make it sound like a big heroic thing. I just…” he hesitated. “…I care.”
Lance turned toward him fully. “So do I.” That was all it took.
Dot leaned in, slow this time, giving Lance every chance to pull away. Lance didn’t. Their lips met in a quiet, unhurried kiss, no rush, no nerves, just warmth and certainty.
Lance’s hand found Dot’s sleeve, fingers curling gently like he needed the contact to anchor himself.
When they pulled apart, Dot rested his forehead against Lance’s shoulder, exhaustion finally catching up to him.
“You can stay,” Dot murmured. “Just sleep, nothing else. I just… want you here.”
Lance’s arm came around him carefully, hesitant but protective. “Then, I’ll stay.”
Dot relaxed into the warmth, tension bleeding out of him for the first time all day.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Lance said quietly.
Dot huffed a small laugh, eyes already closing. “Yeah. Guess it turned out okay.”
They stayed like that, the academy quiet outside the window, the world finally still.
Morning came quietly.
Not with alarms or shouting or Mash doing something inexplicable, just pale light slipping through the curtains and settling across Dot’s room like it was afraid to wake them.
Dot surfaced slowly, half-aware at first. Warmth. Steady breathing. A weight against his side.
He froze.
Oh. Right.
Last night rushed back all at once, confessions, kisses, Lance in his room, Lance saying yes without hesitation. Dot’s heart kicked hard, and he very carefully opened his eyes.
Lance was still there. Curled slightly on his side, one arm resting loosely around Dot’s waist like it had always belonged there. His expression was peaceful in a way Dot had never seen before, no tension, no guarded composure. Just soft.
Dot stared. “You’re real,” he whispered.
Lance stirred at the sound of his voice, brow creasing faintly. His eyes fluttered open, unfocused at first, then sharpening when they landed on Dot.
“Good morning,” Lance murmured, voice low with sleep.
Dot’s face immediately went hot. “You…uh, good morning.”
They didn’t move right away. Lance’s arm was still around him. Dot didn’t make him move it. For a few seconds, they just looked at each other, the quiet thick but gentle.
“Did you sleep well?” Lance asked.
Dot nodded. “Best I’ve had in a while.”
Lance’s thumb brushed lightly against Dot’s side, almost absentminded. “I’m glad.”
Dot swallowed. “You didn’t, like… regret staying or anything?”
Lance’s eyes softened instantly. “Not even a little.”
Dot let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Good. ‘Cause that would’ve sucked.”
A faint smile tugged at Lance’s lips. “You’re very expressive in the morning.”
“Shut up,” Dot muttered, but there was no heat in it.
They shifted slightly, sitting up against the headboard. The room felt different in the daylight, less charged, maybe, but warmer. Realer.
Lance glanced around, then back at Dot. “Are you all right?”
Dot blinked. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You’re quiet,” Lance said. “That’s unusual.”
Dot huffed. “Maybe I’m just processing.”
Lance nodded. “That’s fair.”
There was another pause. Dot picked at the edge of the blanket, then looked up.
“So,” he said, “we’re actually doing this, right?”
Lance met his gaze without hesitation. “Yes.”
“Like, no pretending, no backing out?”
“Yes.”
Dot’s chest tightened. “Okay. Good.”
Lance reached out, hesitating only a second before taking Dot’s hand properly this time, fingers lacing together.
“I want to be clear,” Lance said. “I’m not very good at this. I may be awkward. I may overthink.”
Dot snorted. “You may?”
“But I want to learn,” Lance continued. “With you.”
Dot squeezed his hand. “Yeah. Me too.”
Lance leaned in then, not rushed, not nervous, and pressed a soft kiss to Dot’s lips. It wasn’t desperate or overwhelming. Just a promise. Dot smiled into it.
“You know,” Dot said afterward, “we’re definitely gonna get caught eventually.”
“I know.”
“And people are gonna freak out.”
“I know.”
Dot smirked. “Worth it?”
Lance didn’t even pause. “Absolutely.”
Dot was the first one to laugh. It slipped out of him before he could stop it, soft, incredulous, a little breathless.
“Hey,” he said.
Lance glanced at him. “Yes?”
Dot tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing in thought. “How many times do you think we kissed?”
Lance blinked. “What?”
Dot grinned. “You heard me.”
Lance looked genuinely confused now. “I didn’t count.”
“Tch. Figures,” Dot said. “I did.”
Lance raised an eyebrow. “You did?”
“Yeah,” Dot replied, very seriously. “Couldn’t help it.”
“And?” Lance asked.
Dot shifted closer, shoulders brushing. “Okay. Let’s see. Once in the courtyard…”
“That was two,” Lance corrected quietly.
Dot paused. “It was?”
“Yes,” Lance said. “You kissed me back.”
Dot stared at him, then laughed. “Wow. You were paying attention.”
Lance’s ears turned pink. “Continue.”
“Fine,” Dot said. “Two there. Then one by the training fields…”
“Two again,” Lance said.
Dot felt his face heat. “You’re really gonna be like this?”
“I’m being accurate.”
Dot groaned. “Okay, Mr. Precision. Then one when you walked me to the dorm.”
“Two,” Lance said again.
Dot dropped his head back against the headboard. “Unbelievable.”
“And,” Lance added softly, “one when we woke up.”
Dot froze.
“That counts?”
Lance nodded. “It does to me.”
Dot’s chest felt tight, in a good way.
“So that’s… what, seven?” Dot muttered.
“At least,” Lance said.
Dot glanced at him. “You sound like you’re implying more.”
Lance met his eyes, calm but intent. “Would you like there to be?”
Dot’s heart kicked hard. “Yeah,” he said softly. “I would.”
Lance leaned in slowly, giving Dot time, always giving him time, and kissed him again. Gentle. Familiar. Like something they’d done a thousand times already.
When they pulled apart, Dot smiled.
“Eight,” he said.
Lance’s lips curved upward. “I think you may have miscounted.”
Dot blinked. “Huh?”
Lance leaned in and pressed a brief, soft kiss to Dot’s mouth, barely a touch.
“Nine,” Lance said quietly.
Dot stared at him for half a second. Then he laughed, grabbing the front of Lance’s shirt and kissing him again, warmer this time.
“Let it be ten,” Dot said when they broke apart. “And I’m winning now.”
Lance’s eyes softened, fond and steady. “I don’t mind losing.”
Dot rested his forehead against Lance’s, smile lingering.
“We’re really doing this,” Dot murmured.
“Yes,” Lance replied.
Dot squeezed his hand, heart full and steady.
“Cool,” Dot said. “Then we’ve got a lot more counting to do.”