Signals & Static

Synchronize

Chapter 11

The evening had no set plan only intention.

Perth's apartment lights were dimmed to amber. A blanket fort had taken over his studio corner, layered with quilts, blackout sheets, and fairy lights diffused under linen. Inside. a low futon mattress, soft-textured pillows, weighted blankets folded neatly.

"No agenda," Perth had said earlier.
"Just space."

Santa had brought a small basket two chamomile teas, noise-canceling earbuds (just in case), and a soft cloth notebook. He always needed something to hold, even during calm.

They crawled inside together without ceremony. No background music. No snacks.

Just quiet.

Just warmth.

It came without tension. No spark racing down spines. No soundtrack cue.

Santa had just said something about star alignments and Perth had smiled a little too long.

Santa looked at his lips.

Perth noticed. And paused.

"Can I kiss you?" he whispered, close enough to feel breath.

Santa gave a small nod.

Their foreheads bumped first.

Then, gently... an exhale, a meeting of mouths.

It wasn't practiced or polished. But it held.

Perth's hand cradled the back of Santa's neck, not pulling just present.

Santa's fingers dug gently into Perth's shirt, anchoring.

"You slow me down in the right way," Perth murmured when they parted.

Santa replied after a long pause.

"You speed me up... where I need it."

They didn't kiss again right away.

They just held.

Later, still in the cocoon of pillows, Perth gently removed his hoodie and shifted so their knees touched.

"You don't have to want anything. Just...
if you feel it, we can talk through it."

Santa nodded. Then..

"If we moved slowly, step by step. If I said yes to each thing. Would that be okay?"

"That would be perfect," Perth said, without hesitation.

They undressed each other in small moments, every gesture followed by consent.. a look, a nod, a whispered "okay?"

There was no urgency.

No goal.

Just connection touches like questions, answered without words.

Their moment of intimacy wasn't cinematic. It wasn't sudden or rough.

It was quiet, deliberate, held in the language they'd built. check-ins, stillness, closed eyes and open palms.

Santa touched Perth's chest and whispered

"You feel real."

Perth smiled, eyes glassy.

"So do you."

They didn't fall asleep right away.

Santa lay on his back, Perth curled toward him, tracing slow circles on his shoulder.

"We still don't have a label," Perth murmured.

"But we have protocols," Santa answered.

"And presence."