Kai was doing just fine until his mom had to come and bring her into his home.

The adjustment period that he allowed himself before seriously getting worried was null. There was fucking nothing that would stop him from popping a boner every time you bent over just a little too far, as if purposefully showing him how you'd look face-in-the counter, or when you'd eventually gotten comfortable enough in his home that you began wearing the tiniest, flimsiest pajama shorts around. He knows you worry about the dimples in your chubby thighs, and perhaps that's half of the allure. The fact that you didn't think any man could find that insatiable, and that you're embarrassed of it.

He only chokes down a swallow each time he catches an eyeful. Just one bite of those hips, and he'll show you differently.

In the living room, his heart thunders in his chest as he tentatively interacts with you. Moments like these are fleeting. Where you both get past the constant, buzzing tension of your strange circumstances enough to at least interact.

Kai's heart thunders as he catches a sweet scent, skin-warmed against your neck. Like cupcakes. "I could pick you up," he insists. The shy blush coloring your cherub cheeks makes him want to prove it. He purses his lips when you laugh him off nervously. Does you think he's not man enough? That riles him up tenfold. "Seriously!"