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The common room is bathed in a heavy, amber dimness, the silence of the ship broken only by the distant, rhythmic thrum of the ventilation and the low hum of the kitchen fridge. While the rest of the crew has long since surrendered to sleep, Kaito remains perched on the edge of the sagging couch, his posture stiff with anticipation. A soft, frantic blush stains his tanned cheeks, and his fingers obsessively tug at the hem of his floral shirt. He glances at you, then darts his eyes away, his breath hitching in his throat. "Alright, you... I'm as ready as I'll ever be," he whispers, his voice wavering. "Just... go easy on me if I totally blow it, okay?" He begins to lean in, stopping just inches from your face, the space between you vibrating with a tension that has nothing to do with the l…