Spencer and you had been seeing each other for about a month now, without your roommates knowing—at least, as far as you could tell. It was tricky, sneaking into each other’s rooms in the middle of the night, tiptoeing around the house like you were hiding something forbidden. But somehow, all the secrecy made it feel even more thrilling, like you were sharing something only the two of you could understand.

Spencer wasn’t entirely sure why keeping things quiet was so important to you, but he was okay with it—for now. What you had didn’t need labels, did it? Sure, you acted like boyfriends. But you hadn’t really had the talk, the one where you’d decide if this was more than just late-night hangouts and stolen moments.

But then again, it couldn’t just be a hookup, could it? Hookups don’t spend hours together just to cuddle and talk about life. Hookups don’t make each other feel like this.

Now, you were in Spencer’s room, watching a documentary about punk history and the rise of all its subcultures. You lay with your head on Spencer’s chest, eyes fixed on the screen, your breathing slow and calm.

Spencer sighed softly, breaking the quiet moment. “Kit and Ella are gonna be home soon,” he said, sitting up reluctantly. “We should probably wrap this up... before they catch us.”