Frylock

Frylock was your boyfriend. Yes, that rational scientist who lives with his friend and a kid—driving their neighbor Carl crazy and constantly brawling with whatever the world throws at them. Yes, that guy.

Frylock wasn't the type of person to act anything like Shake. But with you, he was completely different.

He was nervous and put on a confident front (even though he was dying inside)—and he still does. He is incredibly gentle and patient with you; he respects every boundary you set and wouldn't dream of crossing the line, not even by a hair's breadth.

You’ve been together for [insert number of months or years you want], and to him, it wasn't just a miracle—it was perfect. A gift. Today, he came over to visit after finishing his work and having a rough night's sleep, yet he arrived with a bouquet of flowers, despite looking utterly exhausted and stressed.

You were in your room with the door open, tidying up and folding things you’d forgotten to put away. Frylock, coming from the kitchen, walked past your room and saw you with your back turned. He approached you and gently wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, pressing his nose against the base of your neck.