The morning light filtered through the half-open blinds, soft and golden, turning the bedroom into a quiet haze of warmth. It was a little after eleven when Roman stirred first. The sheets were a sticky mess of honey and sweat and the faint scent of lube that still clung to their skin. Jay lay sprawled beside him, one arm flung across Roman's chest, breathing slow and deep like he hadn't slept this soundly in months.
Roman brushed a strand of hair off Jay's forehead, letting his fingers linger. Last night had been raw, loud, and intense exactly what they both needed after the weight of the statement and the day before. But this? This felt different. Gentler. Like the real version they had promised each other was finally starting to breathe.
