Netflix Night

 

The couch was too small for two people in denial.

Ra curled into one end, wrapped in a blanket that definitely used to be hers but somehow lived at Tyler's place now. Netflix autoplayed the next episode of Galactic Misfits, but neither of them was watching. The screen flickered with explosions and one-liners, but all Ra could hear was the thump of Tyler’s heartbeat under the blanket they shared.

“Okay, so tell me the truth,” she said, tossing a piece of popcorn at him. “Do you identify more with Zarn, the broody space prince, or Vex, the hyper-emotional empath with no boundaries?”

Tyler smirked. “You mean, do I bottle my trauma like top-shelf whiskey or cry in the shower with my boots still on? Tough call.”

“You cry in the shower?”

“I don’t own boots,” he shot back, stealing popcorn from her bowl. “But if I had to choose, I’m more of a Zarn. Quiet. Deadly. Intensely misunderstood.”

Ra laughed, full and throaty. “You left three voice memos today about a cat you saw at the bodega.”

“Because he looked like he knew something. He was giving me CIA agent in feline form.”

She shook her head, grinning. Then her smile faded a little. “You ever think this is our version of pretending?”

Tyler tilted his head. “Pretending what?”

“That we’re fine. That we can keep doing this... whatever this is. Netflix nights and shared secrets and foot rubs like we’re not tangled in something way deeper.”

His face sobered. “You want honesty?”

Ra nodded.

He shifted closer, their knees bumping beneath the blanket. His voice dropped, that velvet California smoothness wrapping around her spine like a spell.

“Every time you laugh at one of my dumb jokes, I fall harder. Every time you leave my place and don’t kiss me goodbye, it kills me a little. I’ve loved you since Orion Station, Ra. And every day since has just made that worse... or better. Depending on how much I hate myself that morning.”

Ra blinked. Words gone. Oxygen? Also gone.

“Tyler...”

He leaned in slowly, like she was a prayer he hadn’t finished yet. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”

She didn’t. Couldn’t. Wouldn’t.

Their lips met in a slow, burning kiss—one that tasted like every moment they hadn’t said what they really meant. His hand cradled her jaw, thumb brushing her cheek as she melted into him.

Clothes didn’t come off—not yet. It wasn’t about that. Not this time.

It was the kiss.

The we’ve been best friends too long, and now I know what your soul tastes like, kiss.

She pulled back just enough to rest her forehead against his. “This changes everything.”

“Yeah,” he breathed. “Finally.”

They didn’t finish the show.

They didn’t need to.

Their hearts had written a new episode.

Fade to black. Cue the next cliffhanger.

Because with Ra and Tyler? It was always a season finale.