He stood in front of his mirror longer than necessary, adjusting the collar of his shirt for what felt like the tenth time. It wasn't even wrinkled. It wasn't even bad. But his hands kept finding something to fix, something to smooth, something to distract himself with.
Because thinking about where he was going made his stomach twist.
Meeting Adrián's parents.
Lucien exhaled slowly, staring at his reflection like it might suddenly offer him wisdom. It didn't. It just looked back at him with the same quiet nerves sitting behind his eyes.
A soft knock broke his thoughts.
—Lucien.
Adrián didn't wait long before opening the door, like he always did, like boundaries were more of a suggestion than a rule when it came to him.
He stepped inside, already dressed, already ready, already… calm.
Too calm.
Lucien narrowed his eyes slightly.
—Why do you look like that.
Adrián blinked.
—Like what.
—Like you're going to buy bread, not introduce me to your parents.
Adrián's lips curved, slow and amused, like he found that far more entertaining than he should have.
—Because I am just going to my house—with you.
Lucien grabbed the nearest pillow and threw it at him.
—Be serious.
Adrián caught it easily, still smiling, but there was something softer underneath now. Something that shifted when he looked at Lucien a second longer.
—Hey.
His voice dropped just a little.
—Relax. They're going to like you.
Lucien crossed his arms.
—You don't know that.
—Yeah, I do.
Adrián stepped closer, close enough that Lucien could feel that familiar presence, steady and warm and annoyingly reassuring.
—Because I like you.
Lucien rolled his eyes, but it didn't quite land.
—That's not the same thing.
—It is for me.
That did something.
Something small, something quiet, something that settled just slightly in Lucien's chest.
He sighed, looking away.
—If they hate me, I'm blaming you.
—If they hate you, I'll disown them.
Lucien snorted despite himself.
—You're so dramatic.
—Only for you.
And just like that, it didn't feel as terrifying anymore.
Not completely.
But enough.
—
The ride there was quieter than usual.
Not uncomfortable, just… filled. With thoughts, with anticipation, with Lucien occasionally glancing at Adrián like he was trying to read something in his expression.
Adrián, meanwhile, looked exactly the same.
Relaxed.
Too relaxed.
—Are you even nervous? —Lucien asked finally.
Adrián glanced at him briefly.
—No.
—At all?
—No.
Lucien stared at him.
—You're insane.
Adrián shrugged.
—They already love me.
—That's not the point.
—It kind of is.
Lucien groaned, leaning his head back.
—This is going to be a disaster.
Adrián smiled slightly.
—You're overthinking.
Lucien muttered under his breath.
—You're underthinking.
—
When they arrived, Lucien felt it again.
That twist.
That sudden awareness of everything. His clothes, his posture, his breathing.
Adrián didn't give him time to spiral.
He reached for his hand.
Just for a second.
A quick squeeze.
Grounding.
Then he let go before knocking on the door.
Lucien noticed.
Of course he did.
The door opened almost immediately.
And suddenly—
Everything made sense.
—Adrián.
The woman standing there smiled warmly, eyes bright, already scanning Lucien with curiosity that wasn't sharp, just… interested.
—Hi, mamá.
Adrián stepped in like he owned the place. Which, to be fair, he kind of did.
Then he glanced back.
—This is Lucien.
There was a pause.
Not a bad one.
Just a moment where Lucien felt seen in a way that made him straighten slightly.
—So you're Lucien.
Her smile softened.
—We've heard a lot about you.
Lucien blinked.
Slowly turned his head toward Adrián.
Adrián looked away.
—What do you mean a lot.
Adrián cleared his throat.
—Nothing important.
—Adrián.
—Just… things.
Lucien narrowed his eyes.
—What things.
From somewhere deeper in the house, a voice called out:
—Is that him?
Lucien froze.
Adrián closed his eyes briefly.
—Oh no.
A man appeared moments later, looking between them before his gaze landed directly on Lucien.
Assessing.
Then—
Smiling.
—So you're the one.
Lucien's brain stopped for a second.
—The one what.
Adrián groaned quietly.
—Please don't.
Too late.
—The one he doesn't stop talking about.
Lucien turned slowly.
Very slowly.
—You what.
Adrián looked like he was reconsidering every decision that led to this moment.
—It's not like that.
—It sounds exactly like that.
His mom laughed softly, stepping aside.
—Come in, both of you.
Lucien hesitated only a second before stepping inside.
And as the door closed behind them, as voices filled the space, as Adrián stayed just close enough without making it obvious…
Lucien realized something.
Maybe this wasn't going to be a disaster.
Maybe—
Just maybe—
He was already part of something he hadn't even noticed forming.
And judging by the way Adrián's parents kept looking at him, like they already knew him a little…
Yeah.
He definitely understood now.
He really did get it from somewhere.
Lucien's gaze drifted, not really on purpose, just… wandering.
And then it clicked.
He looked at Adrián.
Then at his mom.
Then back at Adrián again.
Oh.
Oh.
There it was.
The eyes.
That same shape, that same softness hidden under something observant, almost too aware. Adrián had his mother's eyes, no doubt about it. The kind that looked at you like they were reading between your words without making it uncomfortable.
And then—
Lucien's eyes flicked to his dad.
The lips.
The exact same line, the same subtle way they pressed together before speaking, like every word was measured, chosen. Adrián had that too.
He blinked, staring a second longer than he probably should have.
—…You're literally just them combined.
Adrián glanced at him, confused.
—What?
Lucien gestured vaguely between his parents.
—Your eyes—hers. Your lips—his. That's actually… kind of creepy.
There was a beat.
Then his mom laughed, soft and amused.
—He's not wrong.
His dad nodded slightly, like this was a known fact.
—Genetics did its job.
Adrián rolled his eyes.
—Great. I love this for me.
Lucien huffed a quiet laugh, but his attention drifted again, this time to the house itself.
It was… big.
Not in an overwhelming, cold way, but spacious enough that every step echoed just a little too cleanly. Everything had its place. Sharp lines, neutral colors, soft lighting that didn't try too hard.
Minimalist.
But not empty.
There were details if you looked closely. Books arranged with care, a few framed photos that weren't overly displayed but also not hidden, small touches that made it feel lived in without cluttering the space.
It felt…
Controlled.
Calm.
Lucien turned slightly toward Adrián again, studying him in a different way now.
—This makes so much sense.
Adrián raised a brow.
—What does.
Lucien tilted his head, eyes narrowing just a little, like he had just solved something.
—Why you're like… this.
Adrián frowned.
—Like what.
Lucien gestured vaguely at him.
—You act all calm and put together sometimes, and then suddenly you're… you.
Adrián let out a short laugh.
—Wow. Very descriptive.
—You know what I mean.
Adrián smiled slightly, but there was something quieter in it now.
—Yeah.
Lucien looked around one more time, taking it all in.
Then, almost to himself—
—It's nice.
And for a second, it wasn't about the house.
Not really.
Lucien kept moving, slow and curious, like he had just unlocked a new level he wasn't supposed to rush through.
His eyes traced every corner of the house, every clean surface, every carefully placed object… but what really caught him were the photos.
There weren't many.
But the ones that were there—
Oh, they were worth it.
Lucien stepped closer to one frame, tilting his head slightly.
Adrián. Small. Probably six… maybe seven.
Covered in what looked like paint.
No—wait.
Lucien squinted.
—Is that… mud?
He leaned in a little more, trying not to laugh.
Adrián, as a child, stood proudly in the middle of what looked like a completely destroyed backyard, his clothes ruined, his face smeared, holding something unidentifiable in his hands like it was a trophy.
Lucien pressed his lips together.
Failed.
A quiet laugh slipped out.
—No way…
He moved to the next one.
Adrián again.
This time wearing… a cape?
A towel cape.
Standing on top of a table.
Arms crossed like some kind of tiny, overly serious superhero.
Lucien let out a breath through his nose, shaking his head.
—You were that kid.
Another step.
Another frame.
Adrián, a little older now, sitting on the floor with what looked like a broken remote control in pieces around him.
And the expression—
Completely innocent.
Too innocent.
Lucien narrowed his eyes.
—Yeah… no. That was definitely you.
He kept going, slower now, almost savoring it.
Each photo felt like a small secret.
A version of Adrián that didn't exist anymore… or maybe still did, just hidden under layers of that calm, quiet, slightly problematic version he knew now.
Lucien's fingers hovered near one of the frames but didn't touch.
—You were so weird…
There was no judgment in it.
Just something soft.
Fond.
He glanced back over his shoulder briefly, as if checking where Adrián was, then looked at the photos again.
And smiled.
—Still are, actually.
But his voice came out quieter this time.
Almost like he didn't want anyone else to hear it.
The sound of a voice echoed softly through the house, warm and clear from somewhere deeper inside.
—Lunch is ready!
Lucien blinked, snapping out of his quiet exploration, his attention shifting instantly. For a second, he just stood there, like his body needed a moment to remember where he was.
Right.
Adrián's house.
Adrián's parents.
Three days.
Three whole days.
That thought alone made something twist lightly in his chest, not bad… just unfamiliar. New. Like stepping into a space that wasn't his, but somehow didn't feel unwelcoming either.
He glanced once more at the photos, at that smaller version of Adrián frozen in time, messy and unapologetically chaotic… and then turned.
Adrián was already there, leaning casually against the hallway wall, arms crossed, watching him.
Of course he was.
—You done stalking my childhood?
Lucien rolled his eyes immediately, walking past him.
—You were a menace.
Adrián pushed himself off the wall, falling into step beside him.
—Was?
Lucien gave him a side look.
—Don't push it.
That earned a quiet huff of amusement.
They walked together toward the dining area, the atmosphere shifting as the smell of food wrapped around them, warm and inviting. It wasn't overwhelming or overly formal. It felt… lived in. Comfortable.
The table was already set.
Simple. Clean. Thoughtful.
Adrián's mom moved around with ease, placing the last few things down, while his dad sat nearby, relaxed but observant in that quiet way.
Lucien slowed just slightly as they approached.
Not stopping.
Just… aware.
Adrián noticed.
He didn't say anything.
He just reached out briefly, his fingers brushing lightly against Lucien's wrist, a small, grounding touch before letting go like it meant nothing.
But it did.
Lucien straightened just a little after that.
—Come, sit —his mom said with a soft smile, gesturing toward the table.
Lucien nodded politely, taking a seat, careful but not stiff.
Adrián dropped into the chair next to him like he belonged there.
Because he did.
And somehow… Lucien didn't feel entirely out of place either.
Plates were passed around, quiet conversation starting to build, nothing too intense. Just small things. Easy things.
But Lucien could feel it.
The glances.
Not judging.
Just… noticing.
Adrián's mom, especially.
There was something gentle in the way she looked between them, like she was piecing something together without asking.
Lucien focused on his food at first, taking a small bite, nodding slightly.
—It's really good.
—Thank you, dear.
Simple.
But it helped.
Across the table, Adrián's dad spoke up, voice calm.
—So… three days, hm?
Lucien looked up, meeting his gaze.
—Yes, sir.
A small nod.
—Good. It's nice having more life in the house.
That caught him off guard.
Not in a bad way.
Just… unexpected.
Lucien blinked once, then gave a small, genuine smile.
—Thank you.
Beside him, Adrián stayed quiet.
But his leg shifted slightly under the table, brushing against Lucien's.
Not moving away.
Not making it obvious.
Just there.
Like a quiet reminder.
You're okay.
And for the first time since he stepped into that house—
Lucien believed it.
Lucien lowered his gaze to his plate again, but his mind had already drifted somewhere else entirely.
Not the food.
Not the conversation.
Not even Adrián sitting right next to him.
Something quieter.
He glanced up, just briefly.
Adrián's mom was smiling softly as she spoke, completely at ease. His dad looked calm too, composed, almost… too normal.
Too normal.
Lucien's fingers tightened slightly around his fork.
A thought slipped in, uninvited.
Did they… know?
His eyes flickered toward Adrián for a second.
Then back down.
Did they accept it?
The question didn't feel dramatic or loud. It was quieter than that. Careful. Like something he wasn't sure he was allowed to ask.
Because everything felt… fine.
Too fine.
No tension. No awkward silence. No strange looks.
But that almost made it worse.
Because if they didn't know—
Then what was this?
And if they did—
Then why weren't they saying anything?
Lucien swallowed slowly, his thoughts tangling.
Did Adrián ever tell them?
He tried to replay anything Adrián might've mentioned before.
Nothing clear.
Nothing direct.
Just… Adrián being Adrián.
And that didn't help.
His chest tightened just slightly.
Not fear exactly.
Just uncertainty.
Because this wasn't just about Adrián anymore.
This was bigger.
Families weren't simple.
Acceptance wasn't guaranteed.
And suddenly, sitting at that table felt a little different.
He wasn't just a guest.
He was something unspoken.
Something undefined.
Lucien glanced at Adrián again, this time lingering just a second longer.
Adrián didn't notice.
Or maybe he did and pretended not to.
Lucien looked away again, exhaling softly through his nose.
Should I ask him later?
The thought lingered.
Quiet.
Persistent.
But for now—
He stayed silent.
Eating.
Listening.
Waiting.
Even if, in the back of his mind, that question refused to leave him alone.
-
Later that night, the house had gone quiet.
The kind of quiet that settled softly into the walls, broken only by the faint hum of distant traffic and the low rustle of fabric.
Lucien sat on the edge of Adrián's bed, a towel draped over his shoulders, slowly running it through his damp hair. Strands clung to his forehead, still slightly dripping, his movements absentminded… like his body was there, but his thoughts were somewhere else entirely.
Behind him, Adrián pulled his shirt over his head, the fabric falling into place as if this routine was second nature now. Comfortable. Familiar.
Lucien watched him for a second.
Then looked down.
Then back at him again.
He hesitated.
Just a little.
—Do your parents know we're in a relationship…?
His voice was quiet.
Careful.
He paused, fingers tightening slightly around the towel before adding—
—Are they okay with it?
Adrián stilled.
Not dramatically.
Just enough.
Like the question landed exactly where it needed to.
He didn't answer right away.
Instead, he adjusted the hem of his shirt, buying himself a second. Maybe two.
Then he looked at Lucien.
Really looked at him.
And whatever teasing ease he usually carried was gone.
—Yeah.
Simple.
But not careless.
He took a step closer, slower now.
—They know.
Lucien's grip on the towel loosened slightly, but his expression didn't fully relax yet.
So Adrián kept going.
—And yeah… they're okay with it.
A small pause.
Then, softer—
—They've known for a while, actually.
Lucien blinked.
—What?
Adrián let out a quiet breath, one corner of his mouth lifting just slightly, like he found something almost amusing in it.
—Not like… officially.
He rubbed the back of his neck, a little sheepish now.
—But my mom notices everything. And my dad… he doesn't say much, but he gets it.
He glanced at Lucien again.
—They figured it out before I even said anything.
Lucien stared at him, processing.
—And you didn't tell me?
Adrián huffed a soft laugh under his breath.
—It's not like I sat them down and made a presentation.
He stepped closer, stopping right in front of him.
—"Mom, Dad, this is Lucien, I'm hopelessly into him"—yeah, no.
Lucien rolled his eyes slightly, but the tension in his shoulders had already started to melt.
—You're stupid.
—And you like me anyway.
Lucien didn't answer that.
But he didn't deny it either.
Adrián's expression softened just a little, his voice quieter now.
—They like you, you know.
That made Lucien pause.
—What?
—Yeah.
Adrián shrugged lightly.
—My mom thinks you're "polite and cute," her words, not mine.
A beat.
—My dad said you have "good manners."
Lucien blinked again, clearly not expecting that.
—He talks?
Adrián snorted.
—Rarely. So take it as a compliment.
Lucien looked down for a second, processing all of it, something warm and unfamiliar settling in his chest.
Not overwhelming.
Just… steady.
Adrián reached out, gently nudging the towel away from Lucien's hands.
—Hey.
Lucien looked up.
—You don't have to overthink it.
His voice was softer now.
Honest.
—You're okay here.
Not dramatic.
Not grand.
Just real.
Lucien held his gaze for a second longer… then nodded slightly.
And for the first time since that question had settled in his chest—
It felt lighter.
They sat them together.
Not by accident.
Adrián made sure of that.
Lucien barely had time to settle into the chair before he felt it, familiar and grounding, Adrián's presence right beside him, close enough that their shoulders brushed.
And then—
Adrián's hands.
Slow.
Unhurried.
Like this was the most natural thing in the world.
They found Lucien's waist with quiet certainty, fingers resting there before gently pulling him a little closer, closing whatever small space had been left between them.
Lucien didn't flinch.
Didn't pull away.
He was used to it by now.
Used to the way Adrián always seemed to need contact, like proximity itself was something he depended on.
Still—
—We're not alone, you know.
Lucien muttered it under his breath, barely turning his head, his tone carrying that usual half-warning, half-resigned softness.
Adrián didn't move his hands.
If anything, his grip became just a little more secure.
—So?
His voice came low, casual… like the answer was obvious.
Lucien exhaled quietly, trying to ignore the warmth spreading where Adrián's hands rested.
—So… behave.
Adrián hummed, clearly unconvinced.
But he didn't argue.
Instead, he leaned just slightly closer, enough for his shoulder to press more firmly against Lucien's.
Enough to make it feel intentional.
—You're the one who came closer.
Lucien shot him a look.
—You literally pulled me.
A pause.
Then, softer—
—Idiot.
Adrián smiled to himself, barely visible, like he was collecting that word instead of being insulted by it.
His thumb brushed lightly against Lucien's side, absentminded, almost like he wasn't even aware he was doing it.
But he was.
Completely.
And Lucien knew it.
Which is why he didn't move away.
—You never let me kiss you or cuddle… —Adrián said with a pout, his hand slipping under Lucien's shirt, resting warm against his waist like it belonged there.
Lucien stiffened slightly at the touch, shooting him a look.
—That's because you don't ask, you just do whatever you want.
Adrián leaned in a little, his voice softer now, almost teasing.
—And yet you never really stop me.
Lucien opened his mouth to argue…
But paused.
Because it was true.
His eyes flickered away for a second, annoyed at himself more than anything.
—You're annoying.
—And you like me anyway.
Lucien clicked his tongue, but didn't remove his hand.
Didn't move away.
Adrián noticed again.
Of course he did.
His thumb traced small, lazy circles against Lucien's side, just enough to be distracting.
—So… can I? —he murmured, this time actually asking, his voice quieter, closer.
Lucien glanced at him, hesitant for a fraction of a second…
Then sighed.
—…Just one.
Adrián didn't waste it.
Adrián looked at him first, his gaze dropping briefly to Lucien's lips like he was making a quiet decision…
And the next second, he pulled him in.
The kiss wasn't rushed.
It was slow.
Almost like he wanted to savor it.
His lips moved gently at first, testing, familiarizing… but that softness quickly deepened into something more intense. Adrián tilted his head slightly, pulling him closer, his hand firm on Lucien's waist so there was no space left between them.
Lucien tensed for just a second…
Then melted into it.
His fingers lightly gripped Adrián's shirt, kissing him back without pulling away, letting himself be carried by the moment even as his breathing grew uneven.
Adrián definitely wasn't wasting that "just one."
When he finally pulled back, it was only enough to look at him, still close, still sharing the same air.
—…Just one, hm?— he murmured, a faint smile playing on his lips that clearly said he had no intention of stopping there.
Adrián's hands moved with deliberate care as he lifted Lucien and placed him gently on the edge of the table. He shifted slightly, sliding his own body so he was positioned lightly between Lucien's legs, close but not forcing anything. His hands rested on Lucien's waist, warm and grounding, keeping him steady.
Lucien's eyes widened slightly, his breath catching, but he didn't pull away. He stayed there, a little tense, a little curious, completely in Adrián's presence.
Adrián leaned forward just enough, letting his gaze meet Lucien's, soft but searching. Then, in a voice low and steady, almost hesitant but filled with sincerity, he asked—
—Can I keep kissing you?
Lucien's chest tightened at the words. He blinked, caught off-guard for just a second, but nodded almost imperceptibly.
Adrián's lips curved into a small, relieved smile before lowering himself slowly, pressing a gentle, deliberate kiss to Lucien's. The kiss was soft at first, exploratory, but every brush of lips, every tiny movement of his hands along Lucien's waist, carried a quiet intensity, a tenderness that was entirely Adrián, careful and deliberate, savoring the moment without rushing.
Lucien responded slowly, curling his fingers slightly around Adrián's arms, leaning into him despite the flutter of nerves, letting the moment stretch into something delicate, intimate, and undeniably theirs.
Adrián started with a gentle, soft kiss, lingering, savoring the moment. But as Lucien responded, hesitantly at first, the kiss deepened.
His lips parted slightly, brushing against Lucien's with more confidence. Slowly, deliberately, it turned into a French kiss. Their tongues met, exploring, dancing together in a rhythm that was both teasing and urgent.
Adrián's hands stayed on Lucien's waist, steady but insistent, pulling him closer, guiding him without forcing. Lucien's fingers threaded into Adrián's hair, holding on as their mouths moved together, a mix of softness and hunger.
Every brush of teeth, every gentle nibble, every sweep of tongue was a careful dance—intimate, tender, and yet charged with a thrilling intensity neither of them had dared before. The world around them seemed to disappear, leaving only the two of them, moving together in perfect, unspoken harmony
Adrian slipped his hand gently under Lucien's shirt, touching and caressing his bare skin, his warm breath sending a shiver through him as he leaned in closer to his neck, his lips grazing the sensitive flesh. "You smell so good," he whispered, his words sending a jolt of desire coursing through him.
Adrian picked him up effortlessly and sat him on the bed, their eyes never leaving each other's gaze as he lowered himself to his knees. His nimble fingers skillfully untied Lucien's pant's buttons, his touch sending a shiver of anticipation down his spine.
Slowly, Adrian loosened the fastening of Lucien's pants with deliberate care**, his fingers lingering just a second longer than necessary. Once undone, he slid them dow, letting his hands trace the curves of Lucien's hips before lowering his mouth to his stomach.
His tongue glided downward in teasing, featherlight licks—each kiss deliberate, each pause electric. Lucien bit back a moan, his breath hitching despite knowing the thick walls would swallow any sound.
Adrian's mouth trailed lower, finally reaching Lucien's hardened length. He pressed a featherlight kiss to the tip before letting his tongue slide along him in a slow, torturous stroke—teasing, worshiping, savoring every reaction. Lucien's fingers tightened in Adrian's hair, gripping but not guiding, as if caught between pulling him closer and surrendering to the unbearable pleasure.
Yet Adrian remained deliberate, his movements calculated to draw out every shudder, every stifled gasp. Each flick of his tongue was a promise—this was just the beginning.
Lucien's moans echoed throughout the room, resonating in Adrian's head like a sweet symphony. His hands wandered up to Lucien's waist, fingers gently pressing and kneading the soft skin there—a silent promise of what was to come.
As he continued, Lucien's moans grew louder, filling the room with an erotic symphony. His eyes met Adrian's, their gazes locked in a moment of vulnerable connection when Lucien came . Then, abruptly, Lucien's hand slapped his arm with a playful yet firm tap.
—Did... did you swallow it? he asked, his voice a mix of surprise and Grossness.
Adrian looked up, a smirk on his lips. He replied, licking his own, —Every last drop.—
—you're so... gross —Lucien said covering his face
On the other said Adrián was hard as rock but didn't want to bother so decided to wait until Lucien was focused on something else to go to the bathroom to realese thinking about him
Instead after sobre minutes of watching Lucien Adrián's thumb kept tracing slow circles against Lucien's waist.
—… can I? —he asked , quieter now. No teasing this time.
Lucien held his gaze. His heart was beating too fast for how still he was pretending to be.
—Yes.
That was all Adrián needed.
He kissed him first, slow but certain, like he had already decided and was just waiting for permission to make it real. Lucien responded almost immediately, fingers gripping the back of his shirt, pulling him closer without hesitation.
The kiss deepened.
Not rushed.
Not careless.
Intentional.
Adrián's hands moved with more confidence now, sliding along Lucien's sides, mapping him like he'd been memorizing the shape for weeks. Lucien shifted under him, breath catching slightly, and instead of pulling away, he leaned in.
—Lock the door, Lucien murmured against his mouth.
Adrián pulled back just enough to look at him.
—Already did.
That made something in Lucien's chest flip.
The space between them disappeared completely after that. Shirts were pushed aside, not dramatically, just necessary. Fingers traced skin with curiosity that had been building for too long. There was no awkwardness, only that electric awareness of being wanted and choosing it back.
Lucien's laughter slipped out once when Adrián nearly lost balance.
—You're such an idiot.
—You're still here, Adrián replied, breathless.
And Lucien was.
When they finally moved together for real, it wasn't hesitant anymore. It was deliberate. Close. Heat replacing nerves, rhythm replacing doubt. Lucien's hands found Adrián's shoulders, then his back, holding on like he didn't plan to let go anytime soon.
The room filled with quiet sounds, soft gasps swallowed into kisses, whispered names said like they mattered.
And they did.
It wasn't reckless.
It wasn't careless.
It was two people who had already chosen each other, choosing again in the most physical way possible.
Later, when everything slowed and their breathing finally steadied, Lucien stayed where he was, forehead resting against Adrián's.
—We're really doing this, huh.
Adrián brushed his thumb along Lucien's cheek.
—Yeah.
No jokes.
No sarcasm.
Just certainty.
And this time, Lucien didn't overthink it.