in my dreams, you loved ME back♡

Unfortunately, that makes you even more nervous, and when you’re nervous, you get chatty, like you’re trying to fill an awkward silence before it can form. It’s only the waitress coming over to take your order—which he provides in a soft, smooth voice—that finally gets you to quiet down. There’s a pause after she leaves and you take the moment to apologise for yapping away, explaining that you haven’t been on a date in a while and he’s a lot more handsome than your friend made out, so you’re a little tense.

As you’re nearing the end of this explanation, you get a text pop up on your phone from… your date?

You look up at the man in front of you, who is decidedly not on his phone, and then back down at the message which reads sorry, smth came up, can’t make it.

At this point, the guy across from you is also looking at your phone, and it seems he’s started to put the pieces together himself. You’re not sure you’ve ever been more mortified than when you realise you have effectively forced some poor random man on a date with you. For a while you just stare at him helplessly, as though maybe the truth will un-reveal itself and you can go back to blissful ignorance, until he interrupts by offering to move to a different table.

Looking around, you realise the restaurant has quickly filled up since you arrived, to the point you’re not sure there is another free table, and even if there were, you really don’t think he should be the one to move. You explain as much when you finally come to your senses enough to apologise, offering to pay the bill and leave yourself. After a little back and forth, you eventually decide together that since the order’s been placed you might as well eat while you’re here and you can split the bill later.

Xavier, as you find out his name is, actually turns out to be quite easy to talk to, once you’ve calmed down enough from your mistake to have an actual conversation. It turns out you both like the same comic series as well, and you leave the restaurant with a plan to meet up for lunch again.

Needless to say, you don’t bother trying to rearrange anything with your actual intended date.

Rafayel

You meet Rafayel when you rescue him while working late one night at the University. It’s a Friday and everyone else has long since left to start their weekends but you have a review meeting coming up, and after dealing with some deeply uncooperative cell cultures, you’re grinding to gather as much useable data as you can possibly get. You step out of the lab briefly to grab yourself something with caffeine in it while the centrifuge whirs away, only to stop when you see someone gesticulating wildly while talking loudly into their phone outside the building.

They’re in the courtyard that connects your Biology building and the Art department—why someone had put the two next to each other, you would never know—the very same one with doors that could only be opened via keycard after 6pm and no alternative exit route. You’re just wondering if the young man might be stuck out there when he spots you through the glass door and starts waving at you before pointing at the door’s release button on the inside. Ah, so he is stuck then you think, as you walk over and press it, how long has he been out there?

The doors start to open automatically, and as soon as enough space opens up, the man hurls himself through the gap almost as though he thinks they might change their mind and try to shut him out again. He looks back through the doors like the mere existence of the courtyard is an attack upon his person and asks you if your university makes a regular point of trying to trap its guests. You can only shrug in reply, but he looks put out enough that you feel a bit sorry for him, so you offer him some of the fancy tea and snacks you keep around for when your experiments go to shit and you need some cheering up.

And that’s how you end up entertaining Rafayel, art legend who had been cajoled into doing a guest lecture at your university, in your lab group’s office space over tea at almost 9pm. He regales you with the story of how he’d been kept late by the Dean of the art department talking his ear off, trying to persuade him into taking a fixed-term position, and had then wandered out the wrong exit and ended up in the predicament you’d found him in. You have the sense this venting is much needed, so you let him carry on, offering sympathy when appropriate.

Surprisingly, he then turns the conversation to you and you find yourself prattling away about your research project. You do make something of an effort not to fully nerd out on him, but it’s difficult when he’s a good listener and seems able to pick up on the bits you’re the most passionate about. He manages to wheedle your phone number out of you before he leaves, with the excuse of needing someone to rescue him should he fall victim to the courtyard again—though you struggle to imagine why he’d come back after his first experience with the University.

It catches you rather by surprise then, when you see his name pop up as a new hire in the newsletter that circulates the week after.

Zayne

You meet Zayne while on your way to comfort your friend after a break up. Said break up has been a long time coming—at least, in your opinion as someone who never liked the bastard to begin with—but that doesn’t mean she’s any less upset about it, which is why you step into the elevator of her apartment building with a plastic bag containing a full tub of rocky road ice cream, a box of her favourite truffles and a cheap bottle of wine. You press the button for her floor and then the one to hold the door as you spot a man also walking towards the elevator.

He thanks you politely, reaching the doors in just a few long strides and pressing the button for a different floor before standing on the opposite side to you. The doors close and the elevator starts to rise as you get your phone out to let your friend know you’re here. It’s then that you hear an awful grinding noise and the elevator comes to an abrupt stop, decidedly not at either of your intended floors. For a moment, you hope it’s just stopped to let some other resident of the building in, but several seconds pass with the doors refusing to open and you exchange concerned looks with the only other occupant. It seems, you both agree, that the elevator is stuck.

You do the sensible thing of pressing the call button and alerting the building’s management team to the problem, who promise you they’ll deal with the issue as soon as they can, and you’re then left with the reality of being trapped in an enclosed space with a complete stranger. As you attempt to surreptitiously study the guy, you note that while he’s pretty good-looking and well-dressed, the faint dark lines under his eyes scream of someone who’s had too long of a day to deal with the bullshit of getting stuck in an elevator.

Spreading your old, tired coat on the ground, you sit yourself down and offer the spot next to you to the guy. He initially looks like he’s going to refuse but with a bit of needling, he seats himself next to you with a heavy sigh.  Figuring you might as well try to get comfortable, you offer him a handshake and introduce yourself. You learn his name is Zayne, he works as a doctor at the nearby hospital and the only reason he’s in the building is because he planned to pick up something from a colleague before heading home. As your conversation continues, it’s not too difficult to pick up on the fact that he’s not the most extroverted individual in the world, but there’s nothing like being stuck somewhere with no other source of entertainment aside from your nearly dead phone to spur you into keeping the conversation going.

More time passes with no sign of immediate rescue, so you dig the portable cutlery set out from your workbag and offer to split your rapidly melting ice cream with your new elevator buddy. Once you are finally liberated from your shared confinement—a process that takes over two hours in the end—you’re down one tub of ice cream and a half a box of truffles. Zayne offers to compensate you for both, but you’ve grown fond enough of his dry sense of humour that you propose a counter offer: next time he can treat you to some ice cream, ideally in a nicer location than the floor of a broken down elevator.

He accepts.

Sylus

You meet Sylus during a run in with your miserable, cheating ex. It’s been a rough month all in all, trying to stitch together the tattered edges of your life where they’d previously been entangled with another person. As a treat, you decide to take yourself out shopping, a higher end store than you’d usually frequent, but you feel like you’ve earned it by surviving the last four weeks.

Your nice day out is cut short however, when you spot your ex with the sidepiece he’d been seeing behind your back clinging to his arm and sporting a sizeable diamond ring on her left hand. Unfortunately, they spot you before you have time to process properly that the person you thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with is engaged no more than a month after your break up. They approach you and the conversation is as full of petty bullshit as you would expect from the two worst people you know—your ex making sure to mention the expensive honeymoon they’ve got booked after the lavish wedding they’re going to have next spring.

Then the conversation turns to you, and your ex’s new fiancée asks snidely if you’re seeing anyone. It’s obvious from the smug look on her face that she knows the answer is no and something in you just snaps. You’re not thinking straight—you’d never do something like this if you were— when you grab the poor stranger unfortunate enough to be standing close to you and announce him as the new guy you’ve been seeing. All you can tell from your peripheral is that he’s well-dressed and considerably taller than your ex, who always had a bit of a thing about his height.

You see your ex’s expression falter as he looks the guy over and it emboldens you enough that you finally let loose the verbal tirade you wanted to give him the day you found someone else’s nudes on his phone. To say you eviscerate the pair of them would be putting it mildly; by the end of your little speech, half the store has turned to watch and at least one grandmother is clutching at her pearl necklace.

To finish off with the appropriate dramatics, you march away from the pair with your head held high and manage to make it halfway across the shop floor before you realise you’ve dragged the random stranger you grabbed hold of with you. An apology to end all apologies at drawing the poor man into your drama starts to form on your tongue, only to have it wither away the moment you get a proper look at him. The arm you’re hanging onto belongs to one of the most intimidating—and good-looking, but that’s a little beside the point—guys you’ve ever seen.

It’s immediately apparent from his build that the only reason you got this far is because he let you haul him away. And then there’s the way he’s looking at you, like a big cat eyeing up something that wandered into its enclosure, trying to decide whether it’s worth hunting. Suddenly, you are struck by the feeling that you have just done something very, very stupid.

Caleb

You meet Caleb while having the worst day of your life. A failing grade on your latest piece of coursework, your barely acceptable average hanging on by a thread, your best friend for over a decade seems to have decided you’re a poor relation to the new friends she’s made at her own college a city away and you have a rat problem your landlord is refusing to address. In some attempt to try to salvage things, you decide to treat yourself with a beverage from your favourite coffee shop. Do you really have the budget for it? No, but the thought of staying in your shitty rental for the rest of the day is too much to bear.

You go up to counter and order as usual, wincing a little when the number comes up on the till but tapping your card regardless, however it’s when you collect your drink and turn to find your usual seat in the corner that things go horribly wrong. Someone shoulder checks you, hard, and you manage to tip your drink all over yourself as you stagger backwards.

Time seems to freeze for a moment, you can feel the eyes on you, watching as the liquid drips down from your formerly white shirt. Looking down at the contents of your now nearly empty cup, something in you breaks. You start bawling—tears, snot, the works. The arsehole who ran into doesn’t even bother to stop as you burst into hysterics and everyone else seems content to just stare at you like you’re some kind of spectacle.

Then, you feel an arm around your shoulder, guiding you towards a quiet corner at the back of the store as someone takes the cup from your hands and presses a wad of napkins into them instead. You try to thank them through the tears, although you’re not sure anything intelligible comes out and the kind stranger just quietly hushes you in response. They get you to sit down and you look up to see an extremely handsome guy—you think you might have seen him around campus before, although you’re not sure—standing in front of you, blocking the view of you from the rest of the shop with his back.

He lets you cry it out for bit, disappearing only briefly after you’ve started to calm down and coming back with a duplicate of your drink order. That act of kindness is almost enough to make you start back up again, but then he asks what happened and you end up spilling your guts to him. It seems like bad manners to dump all your problems on a stranger, though once you’re done, you do feel more like a person and less like a total walking disaster. He introduces himself as Caleb and he is indeed at the same college as you, just a couple of years ahead. You thank him profusely for his help and try to give him some money for the drink but he waves it off, asking instead if he can borrow your phone quickly. Not seeing any reason to refuse—maybe his has run out of charge, you think—you hand it over and he steps away to make brief call before handing it back to you.

That encounter seems to serve as something of a turning point, as shortly after you say your goodbyes, you receive a message from your landlord promising the rat problem will be dealt with immediately. You also notice that Caleb :) has been added to your contacts list.

Right?

He’s counting down the days immediately. Obsessively checking all your social media accounts for updates as if you were the idol instead, wondering whether or not you’d come to see him.

He’s literally kicking his feet and squealing. Of course you would. You love him too, don’t you? Not in the way he loves you, but you’d get there, once you meet him and speak to him in person. He just knows it.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐋 who goes crazy with his skincare and his haircare and his workouts and his diet — all in preparation for the big day. How could he ever face you if he doesn’t look perfect? He’d simply die of shame.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐋 who doesn’t sleep a wink the night before the event. His racing thoughts keep him up, thousands upon thousands of imagined scenarios flitting throughout his head. What if he confessed to you then and there? Prostrated himself at your feet? What if he ‘accidentally’ bumped into you in the hallway? Orchestrated one of those “meet-cute”s that you love so much? The possibilities were endless.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐋 who is an anxious mess during the event itself. He’s constantly glancing at the queue, hoping to catch a glimpse of you, completely neglecting the other fans sitting in front of him at the moment. His body is running on autopilot — smile unwavering, responses warm and polite — but his attention is solely fixed on finding you.

When you walk through those doors and catch his eye, he starts smiling so hard he genuinely looks as if he’s gone insane. He has a pretty face though, so he looks good no matter what he does. As you shuffle through the queue, he never takes his eyes off of you, not even once. He wonders if you noticed. You probably did, from the way you kept glancing back to look at him.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐋 whose hands can’t stop shaking when it’s finally your turn to speak to him. His signature is so jerky, and his script looks close to illegible as he hastily scrawls his number underneath his name.

However, you don’t notice, for the rest of his demeanor is flawless, and you are too preoccupied with making small talk with him to pay attention to what he’s doing with his hands. You hardly have the time to exchange three sentences with him before you have to make space for the next fan, anyway.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐋 whose anxiety goes into overdrive. What if you can’t read his writing? What if you think it was a joke? What if you don’t text him? What if you think he’s weird? Did he act too stiffly? Were his responses normal enough? Was his smile too creepy? Did he look too eager? What if, what if what if —

He’s literally going insane. He can’t even pull out his phone and check your posts to see your true thoughts about him right now. He’s dying. He’s drowning. Is this what suffocating feels like? There’s bile clawing up his throat, poison surging through his veins —

He shoots to his feet, the chair clattering to the floor behind him. Excusing himself, he says he isn’t feeling too well. He bolts out of the convention hall.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐋 who runs and runs and runs — until he runs into you.

You’re already in the parking lot, halfway to your car, and the resulting scene could come straight out of a rom-com.

“Wait!” he calls. It comes out sharp. Desperate. “Y/N!”

You turn around. Brows raising high the moment you realise who it is.

He scrambles up to you breathlessly, the mask of ‘perfection’ he put on as an idol entirely shattered. Hair clings to his sweat-slicked skin, and even with all the makeup he has on, a faint blush peeks through.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐋 whose mind goes blank when he finally gets the chance to speak to you freely. Every scenario he had imagined, every speech he had rehearsed, every witty one liner he had planned to say... All of it, gone.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐋 who has a grand total of zero social skills. He started training as an idol at a really, really young age — even dropped out of school to pursue this line of work — and thus has had no chance to interact with other people outside of his group and his bosses. When he is not “an idol”, he is really no one at all.

You blink. He blinks.

He raises a trembling hand to gesture at the signed album in your arms. “I, uhm... My number — You...?”

His face burns with crimson embarrassment. How very eloquent.

“Oh!” you say. You laugh, and it’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard in his life. “I was wondering about that. Do you, ah, want to erase it or something...?”

His response comes out much more passionately than he had intended to be. “No! I — I mean, it’s... for you. It’s for you.”

“Oh,” you say, again.

The silence stretches on between the two of you. A bead of sweat rolls down his forehead.

He gulps so audibly he swears it echoes throughout the parking lot.

“Text me? Please...?”

Surprise flashes across your face, before a shy smile, like dawnlight peeking through the clouds, blooms. His heart stutters.

“Sure. Is later alright? I have to get going now...”

“You could give me your number instead!” he offers quickly, stumbling over the words. “So I — Just in case you forget.”

“Ah, sure...!”

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐋 who doesn’t hear a thing while he’s getting chewed out by his manager. Head filled to the brim with thoughts about you. Fingers twitching, dying to unlock his phone so he can text you. He’s an addict at this point, addicted to the drug that is your attention.

Right?

He’s counting down the days immediately. Obsessively checking all your social media accounts for updates as if you were the idol instead, wondering whether or not you’d come to see him.

He’s literally kicking his feet and squealing. Of course you would. You love him too, don’t you? Not in the way he loves you, but you’d get there, once you meet him and speak to him in person. He just knows it.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐋 who goes crazy with his skincare and his haircare and his workouts and his diet — all in preparation for the big day. How could he ever face you if he doesn’t look perfect? He’d simply die of shame.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐋 who doesn’t sleep a wink the night before the event. His racing thoughts keep him up, thousands upon thousands of imagined scenarios flitting throughout his head. What if he confessed to you then and there? Prostrated himself at your feet? What if he ‘accidentally’ bumped into you in the hallway? Orchestrated one of those “meet-cute”s that you love so much? The possibilities were endless.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐋 who is an anxious mess during the event itself. He’s constantly glancing at the queue, hoping to catch a glimpse of you, completely neglecting the other fans sitting in front of him at the moment. His body is running on autopilot — smile unwavering, responses warm and polite — but his attention is solely fixed on finding you.

When you walk through those doors and catch his eye, he starts smiling so hard he genuinely looks as if he’s gone insane. He has a pretty face though, so he looks good no matter what he does. As you shuffle through the queue, he never takes his eyes off of you, not even once. He wonders if you noticed. You probably did, from the way you kept glancing back to look at him.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐋 whose hands can’t stop shaking when it’s finally your turn to speak to him. His signature is so jerky, and his script looks close to illegible as he hastily scrawls his number underneath his name.

However, you don’t notice, for the rest of his demeanor is flawless, and you are too preoccupied with making small talk with him to pay attention to what he’s doing with his hands. You hardly have the time to exchange three sentences with him before you have to make space for the next fan, anyway.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐋 whose anxiety goes into overdrive. What if you can’t read his writing? What if you think it was a joke? What if you don’t text him? What if you think he’s weird? Did he act too stiffly? Were his responses normal enough? Was his smile too creepy? Did he look too eager? What if, what if what if —

He’s literally going insane. He can’t even pull out his phone and check your posts to see your true thoughts about him right now. He’s dying. He’s drowning. Is this what suffocating feels like? There’s bile clawing up his throat, poison surging through his veins —

He shoots to his feet, the chair clattering to the floor behind him. Excusing himself, he says he isn’t feeling too well. He bolts out of the convention hall.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐋 who runs and runs and runs — until he runs into you.

You’re already in the parking lot, halfway to your car, and the resulting scene could come straight out of a rom-com.

“Wait!” he calls. It comes out sharp. Desperate. “Y/N!”

You turn around. Brows raising high the moment you realise who it is.

He scrambles up to you breathlessly, the mask of ‘perfection’ he put on as an idol entirely shattered. Hair clings to his sweat-slicked skin, and even with all the makeup he has on, a faint blush peeks through.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐋 whose mind goes blank when he finally gets the chance to speak to you freely. Every scenario he had imagined, every speech he had rehearsed, every witty one liner he had planned to say... All of it, gone.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐋 who has a grand total of zero social skills. He started training as an idol at a really, really young age — even dropped out of school to pursue this line of work — and thus has had no chance to interact with other people outside of his group and his bosses. When he is not “an idol”, he is really no one at all.

You blink. He blinks.

He raises a trembling hand to gesture at the signed album in your arms. “I, uhm... My number — You...?”

His face burns with crimson embarrassment. How very eloquent.

“Oh!” you say. You laugh, and it’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard in his life. “I was wondering about that. Do you, ah, want to erase it or something...?”

His response comes out much more passionately than he had intended to be. “No! I — I mean, it’s... for you. It’s for you.”

“Oh,” you say, again.

The silence stretches on between the two of you. A bead of sweat rolls down his forehead.

He gulps so audibly he swears it echoes throughout the parking lot.

“Text me? Please...?”

Surprise flashes across your face, before a shy smile, like dawnlight peeking through the clouds, blooms. His heart stutters.

“Sure. Is later alright? I have to get going now...”

“You could give me your number instead!” he offers quickly, stumbling over the words. “So I — Just in case you forget.”

“Ah, sure...!”

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐋 who doesn’t hear a thing while he’s getting chewed out by his manager. Head filled to the brim with thoughts about you. Fingers twitching, dying to unlock his phone so he can text you. He’s an addict at this point, addicted to the drug that is your attention.

At first you thought it was kind of cute—sort of like a puppy protecting their territory. It wasn’t news that she and Caleb were attached at the hip. Borderline halves of a whole.

But now, that puppy felt more akin to a hunter stalking its prey.

Warning you to know your place.

You swallowed, unable to help how your heart raced under such an intense gaze.

“H-ello~”

You turned to the man next to you, his eyes flashing in amusement and maybe a bit of satisfaction in regaining your attention. You could never entirely be sure about his thoughts, making it much easier to maintain a distance that felt comfortable.

“Sorry,” you said with a smile, clearing your throat and eyeing your food. It wasn’t often you went to someone’s home to eat. Living alone for so long, it felt almost wrong to have company around during meal times. You push the food around, taking small bites but nothing substantial enough to earn anyone’s focus.

Well, unless it was the two people you were sitting with.

“Caleb, she doesn’t like the food.”

You perked up, heating in the cheeks.

“Oh?” Caleb asked, noticing how your plate looked untouched. “Not a fan, Ace?”

You ignored the nickname, smiling in a way that made your cheeks ache on top of overheating.

“It’s great! I just…” you shifted your gaze to the woman, noting her leaning forward as if egging you on. When you turned back to Caleb, he seemed to be doing the same, though his eyes were wide and patient. “This isn’t…” you tried again, voice growing smaller as the air left your lungs faster than you’d like. “Eating with people….”

“She’s uncomfortable.”

“Pips,” Caleb started, but you let out a laugh that sounded higher pitched than you would have liked.

“That’s not it, either.”

“You’re uncomfortable with…us?”

“No!” you insisted, hating how it teetered the line of whining. “Eating with people is new! That’s all. If I eat too fast that’s…that’s rude, right?”

Your grip on your utensils tightened as you avoided their eyes. Your heart raced, pounding in your ears as you waited for anything. A laugh from Caleb. A scoff from Emcee.

You received neither.

“You should have checked beforehand, dummy,” Emcee huffed. Your head snapped upward to see that her gaze was the same as earlier, but now on Caleb. “When we have guests we need them to feel welcome.”

You blinked.

Was she…defending you?

Your mind felt like a blue screen on a crashing laptop.

She was defending you. Against Caleb, one of the few people apart from herself to extend an olive branch to you as a newbie.

You nearly laughed at the situation, but Caleb spoke up as you processed the words.

“Well, guests might feel more inclined to speak up if a certain pipsqueak didn’t try to unlock the secrets of their soul by watching them like a hawk~” Caleb sighed dramatically, clicking his tongue when her freehand slammed against the table in warning.

“Caleb…”

He shrugged and popped another fishcake into his mouth. You did all you felt comfortable doing while the two argued.

You took a bite of your food.

Then another.

And another.

Until you had developed a pace that felt safe in their company.

Not slow enough to earn more questions, but not fast enough suffer indigestion.

If only you had been more focused on them, you would have caught how their bickering never once faltered even as they added more food to your plate. You were so lost in thought that an extra piece of meat from Caleb or another fishball from Emcee went completely unnoticed. Even the small smirks that formed on their lips, forced down by their commitment to the act went right over your pretty little head.

How cute, they both thought to themselves when you sighed contentedly at the end of your meal. You remained blissfully unaware that neither of them were going to let you have dinner at their house then return to strictly business.

Especially not when you offered them a shy smile and thanked them so sincerely.

Emcee’s eyes met Caleb after you stood to bring your dishes to the sink, defeat flashing momentarily.

You were right.

Caleb grinned knowingly. It faltered when Emcee stood up, calling out to you to help with the dishes. Competitiveness replaced defeat entirely, Caleb letting out a breath of disbelief at how dirty she was playing.

As if there wasn’t enough of you to go around.

He didn’t move to join you two just yet, calmly listening to the light chatter of you both while putting the leftovers away for tomorrow.

Someone had to make sure you had some means of regaining your energy after waking up tomorrow.

And he'd be the first to reap the benefits for such thoughtful foresight once you did.

**

Update:

roommate!nerd!cho babbles total filth to himself in a messy, breathless whimper as he pulls his pants down. he wraps your pink underwear tight around his shaft and starts jerking off. "oh my god—you smell so good," he groans, his glasses getting all foggy from his hot breath. "i'm so sorry—fuck—i'm such a disgusting freak... but haah—want you so bad." he strokes himself faster and faster while picturing your body, until he blows a huge, messy load right inside your underwear, completely ruining them.

roommate!nerd!cho realizes there is no way he can wash the sticky stains out without you finding out. shaking and sweaty, he hides his ruined prize in the very back of his desk drawer, tucked behind his computer parts where you'll never look.

roommate!nerd!cho gets totally hooked after that first time. doing laundry isn't a chore anymore; it’s his favorite part of the week. he starts offering to carry the baskets just to sneakily look through your clothes. soon, he steals a black silk thong, and then a pair of white boy-shorts with a tiny red bow on them.

roommate!nerd!cho gets greedy one weekend when you stay overnight at a friend's place. being all alone in the apartment makes him bold, and he steals two pairs at once: a sheer lavender mesh pair and some comfy grey cotton ones you usually wear to sleep.

roommate!nerd!cho uses both at the same time to get off. he wraps the tight lavender mesh around the bottom of his dick for friction, while keeping his face buried in the grey cotton. he actually licks the middle of the grey pair, trying to taste you, whimpering and begging for the real thing while he messes up another pair of your clothes.

roommate!nerd!cho starts worrying that you'll notice your underwear is missing. to keep you from getting suspicious, he carefully hand-washes the cleaner ones in his bathroom sink, dries them in his room, and sneaks them back into your clean basket. but he never gives back his favorites—especially the ones that smell the most like you.

Your meetings became less about exchanging intel and more about finding excuses to linger afterward. One dinner became another. Coffee turned into drinks. Long conversations stretched well past midnight until one of you realized the restaurant was closing around you. More than once, you stayed so late at his place that he gently insisted you shouldn’t be driving home exhausted, pointing out the way you yawned every few minutes or caught yourself rubbing at your tired eyes. Every time, he offered you the bed without hesitation while he claimed the couch for himself, brushing off your protests with that easy grin of his as though there had never been another option. He never made you feel cornered. Never made you feel like there were expectations waiting behind his kindness. Instead, he somehow managed to make his home feel like the safest place you could have ended up.

And it was because there was never any pressure that things slowly progressed on their own. One night, a lingering hug became a lingering touch. Another, a kiss that should have been taboo stretched into another…And another…Until the two of you found yourselves tangled together across his bed, laughing between stolen breaths as clothes disappeared one piece at a time. There were nights spent kissing until your lips tingled, rolling lazily across tangled sheets with flushed cheeks and racing hearts, stopping only when you were both too breathless to think straight. More than once, Valko eventually excused himself with an embarrassed laugh and disappeared into the shower to deal with the obvious consequences of spending hours wrapped around you, returning later with damp hair, pink ears, and the world’s most innocent smile, as though neither of you needed to acknowledge what he’d have to do.

No matter how many times you mentally scolded yourself for letting things get this far, for allowing yourself to become so hopelessly tangled up with him, you couldn’t deny the truth. Every step had been your choice. You wanted to be there. You wanted him. And honestly…With the way he looked at you, laughed with you, and made you feel so effortlessly safe, how could you not?

He was undeniably handsome. Not exactly your type; not on paper, anyway. If someone had described him to you before you’d met him, you probably would’ve rolled your eyes and confidently insisted he wasn’t the kind of man you’d ever fall for. Yet somehow, against all reason, it wasn’t his looks that had chipped away at your defenses. It was everything underneath them. He was playful in a way that made it impossible to stay irritated with him for long. Affectionate without ever seeming embarrassed by it. Brave enough to throw himself into danger without hesitation, yet emotionally open enough to wear his heart so plainly that you never had to wonder how he felt. He was endlessly adventurous, always finding some new place to drag you or some ridiculous idea he wanted to share, and although his hopeless forgetfulness and spectacularly awkward attempts at being smooth made you question how someone so brilliant could also be such a clumsy, cocky dumbass, you couldn’t deny the mind hiding beneath all that lovable chaos. The more time you spent with him, the harder it became to remember what life had felt like before he’d barged into it with that stupid grin and impossible amount of enthusiasm.

It was honestly becoming embarrassing just how much he was growing on you. And ever since the line between friendship and something far more intimate had quietly disappeared…Well, things had only become more complicated. Sharing a kiss had somehow turned into craving each other. Innocent touches lingered longer than they used to. Every goodbye made you impatient for the next excuse to see him again, and every night spent apart left you missing the warmth of his strong hugs, the sound of his laugh, and the way he always found some reason to brush against you whenever you were in the same room. You found yourself wanting more of his time, more of his attention, more of those quiet moments where it felt like the rest of the world simply stopped existing whenever the two of you were together. It was becoming dangerously easy to imagine keeping him all to yourself for just a little while longer every time you met.

Tonight was no different. It was Friday night, and after a long, exhausting work week, the two of you had spent the last several days quietly counting down until you could see each other again. Officially, tonight’s meeting was about business. There was information to exchange, reports to discuss, and work that needed to be done. That was the excuse either of you would have given anyone who asked.

Neither of you believed it anymore. Somewhere along the way, “business” had become little more than the reason you used to justify seeing each other. The work would get done, of course, it always did, but afterward came the part you were both secretly looking forward to. Dinner. Conversation that drifted far away from work. Hours spent laughing over nothing at all. The quiet comfort of simply existing in each other’s company. Without ever saying it aloud, the two of you had reached the same understanding. It wasn’t just business anymore. It was pleasure.

The private driver Valko had insisted on ordering for you pulled smoothly to the curb beneath the glowing entrance of the high-rise. You thanked the driver before stepping carefully onto the pavement, instinctively smoothing your palms down the sides of the fitted little black dress hugging your figure. The hem rode just high enough that you gave it a subtle tug, making certain it covered your ass before straightening to your full height in your heels.

You already knew exactly what was going to happen. The moment Valko saw you, he’d stare. He’d try, and fail miserably, not to. His golden eyes would shamelessly drag over every inch of you before that fanged grin spread across his face, followed immediately by some unbearably cocky compliment that would earn him an eye roll and an insult in return. You would deny, with complete confidence, that you’d picked this dress because of him. He wouldn’t believe you for a second. Neither, if you were being honest, would you.

The worst part was…You already knew exactly how the rest of the night was going to unfold. He would spend the entire evening looking at you like that, his golden eyes shamelessly drinking you in every chance they got, finding excuses to brush your hand, your waist, the small of your back whenever no one important was watching. A few glasses of expensive liquor would leave both of you pleasantly tipsy, your conversations dissolving into laughter and flirtation until “business” quietly disappeared somewhere in the background.

Before long, you’d end up back at his place beneath the convenient excuse that it was too late to drive, tangled together across his bed again with more than half your clothes discarded somewhere onto the floor. You’d both be flushed, breathless, and hopelessly worked up from hours of kissing, your lips swollen as his wandering hands searched for every inch of you they could find. More often than not, he’d end up with his face buried shamelessly into your bare breasts, cheeks burning with heat while he looked up at you with those impossibly golden eyes, asking, no, begging, for just a little more of you than you were ready to give him. And every single time, you’d find yourself giggling at how pathetically eager Valko became whenever he wanted something badly enough, teasing him mercilessly while secretly finding the sight so unbelievably endearing that it only made you want him more.

Drawing a steadying breath, you stepped toward the entrance where one of Valko’s waiting bodyguards greeted you politely by name. He offered his arm with practiced professionalism, and you accepted it without hesitation. Like all of Valko’s men, he wore one of the sleek metal wolf masks that concealed most of his face from public view, leaving only his eyes and hair visible beneath the polished silver.

He escorted you inside. The atmosphere changed almost immediately. The first floor opened into an impossibly lavish bar, every surface gleaming beneath warm amber lighting that danced across mirrored walls and polished glass. Crystal fixtures sparkled overhead while low music drifted effortlessly through the room, blending with the constant hum of expensive conversations. Business executives laughed over whiskey in tailored suits, elegantly dressed escorts moved gracefully through the crowd, and every guest carried themselves with the effortless confidence of people accustomed to luxury.

Your heels clicked softly across the marble floor as your escort guided you through the crowd toward the private elevators. The doors slid open almost silently, and moments later the two of you were ascending through the tower, floor after floor disappearing beneath your feet until the elevator finally came to a stop at the very top.

The hallway waiting beyond couldn’t have felt more different from the lively bar below. It was quieter. More intimate. Warm, dim lighting spilled across dark wood floors, casting a romantic glow along the corridor lined with private dining rooms. As you followed your escort deeper inside, muffled conversations drifted through the closed doors alongside bursts of laughter and the distant melody of live music. A server passed by carrying an ornate silver tray balanced effortlessly in one hand, crystal wine glasses shimmering beneath the lights as deep ruby liquid swayed gently inside them.

Then another scent reached you. Rich. Smoky. Savory. Your stomach answered before your brain did. Barbecue. The mouthwatering aroma of slow-cooked meat escaped from beneath one of the dining room doors, mingling with the scent of expensive wine and polished cedar until the entire floor smelled decadently indulgent. You couldn’t help smiling to yourself. God. Trust Valko to choose somewhere this ridiculously lavish.

You finally reached the private room the redhead had reserved exclusively for the two of you. The bodyguard who had escorted you this far stepped aside without a word, taking up his post near the door while you stood there alone for a brief moment. You drew in one last deep breath, smoothing your palms down the front of your dress again even though you’d already done it twice on the way here. Your fingers swept lightly through your hair, making sure nothing had fallen out of place before you straightened your shoulders and silently coached yourself into looking composed. Calm. Collected. Confident. Not like the bundle of anxious anticipation twisting itself tighter with every passing second.

God, you already wanted a drink. Maybe two. Maybe three. Anything that would settle the ridiculous fluttering in your stomach every time you knew you were about to see him. You wanted to walk into this room looking relaxed, unaffected, completely in control of yourself instead of looking like someone who’d spent the entire ride over wondering what his face was going to look like when he saw you.

You knocked. Almost immediately, the handle turned. The door swung open. And just like every single time…The nerves hit you all over again. He was somehow always bigger than you remembered. No matter how many times you saw him, your brain never seemed capable of preparing itself for the sheer size of the man standing in front of you. He filled the doorway almost completely, broad shoulders stretching comfortably across the frame while his height forced your eyes upward farther than they always expected. His reading glasses rested neatly across the crooked bridge of his nose, softening his chiseled features in a way that was almost unfair.

Then he saw you. The pleasant smile he’d been wearing immediately grew brighter. His golden eyes lifted to meet yours for only a heartbeat before shamelessly wandering downward, taking in your dress with absolutely no attempt whatsoever to hide his admiration. You watched the appreciation spread across his face in real time, his sculpted cheeks dimpling as the corners of his mouth curled higher and higher.

Then you noticed something behind him. Oh…God. His tail. The enormous auburn thing had already betrayed him. The giant, fluffy tail sweeping lazily behind him suddenly began wagging with unmistakable enthusiasm, thumping happily against the floor the longer he looked at you. He hadn’t even said a word yet, and his body had already confessed exactly how excited he was to see you. You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling too much.

“Oh, man…” He breathed, looking you over with absolutely shameless admiration before meeting your eyes again. The grin on his face was impossible to miss, “I don’t remember making an order of rabbit tonight…But I am pretty hungry.”

You rolled your eyes so hard they almost hurt, “oh, shut up!”

Your palm landed squarely against the broad expanse of his chest with a solid smack, but it barely moved him. It only earned you the rich, unrestrained laugh you had expected, the sound rumbling warmly from somewhere deep inside that ridiculously massive body of his. You immediately fought to keep your expression neutral, pressing your lips together as firmly as you could to stop the smile threatening to betray you. It was hopeless. You could already feel the warmth blooming across your cheeks, creeping down the back of your neck and settling in your chest. Even worse, you felt that familiar flutter beginning low in your stomach, a nervous little spark that spread embarrassingly lower until it settled between your thighs. God, you hadn’t even been in the room for ten seconds.

“You’re such a dork,” you muttered under your breath as you slipped past him before he could see just how affected you already were.

Eager to regain at least a shred of composure, you stepped into the private dining room and tossed your small purse onto the large black leather couch tucked against one wall. Only then did you finally take in the room properly. The centerpiece was an enormous low table already prepared for the two of you, covered with neatly arranged platters of uncooked ingredients waiting to be grilled. Thick cuts of steak sat beside beautifully marbled wagyu and brisket, while trays of vegetables, crisp salads, sweet corn, bowls of steaming rice, cheeses, and every imaginable accompaniment filled the rest of the table. The rich aroma of charcoal and seasoned meat already lingered in the air from the waiting grill, and your stomach answered immediately, your mouth watering at the sight.

You barely managed to take another step toward the table before a familiar warmth wrapped itself around your waist. His hand. Large enough to span nearly the width of your side, it settled confidently against you before gently drawing you backward. In one smooth motion, Valko turned you to face him again, effortlessly interrupting your escape.

“Jeez,” he teased, his voice warm with amusement, “what’s the rush?”

His eyes wandered over you with absolutely no shame whatsoever. They lingered in your hair for a moment before dropping to your face, tracing every feature as though committing it to memory. Then they continued lower, gliding over the neckline of your dress, your breasts, your waist, your hips, and back up again before he gave you the smallest, most appreciative smile. His hand remained secure around your waist as he slowly guided you into standing directly in front of him again, his touch gentle despite the possessive ease with which he held you.

“C’mere,” he murmured, “I wanna see what you put on…”

You quietly thanked every higher power that he had stopped himself there. He didn’t add “for me”. The smug bastard must have learned from the number of times you’d smacked him for saying things like that, because he wisely kept the rest of the sentence to himself. You were already halfway tempted to hit him again anyway, but instead he was rewarded with exactly what he’d been hoping for.

With an exaggerated sigh, you let him have his moment. His grin widened. His hand slid carefully along your waist as he guided you into a slow turn, letting you rotate in front of him while he admired the dress from every angle. You did your best to look completely unbothered, lifting your chin as though you were merely humoring his ridiculous request, but the intensity of his attention made it nearly impossible to ignore the heat steadily climbing back into your face. By the time you halfway completed the turn, you could practically feel his gaze settle on your ass. It lingered there. Of course it did. A quiet, reverent breath escaped him before he spoke so softly it was almost more to himself than to you.

“Christ…” He whispered, his voice full of genuine admiration, “you’re something else, Y/n…”

Just as you realized the door before you was still hanging halfway open, Valko completed the slow turn he’d guided you through, bringing you back around to face him. And then…Oh, fuck. Without warning, he lifted your wrist high above your head with gentleness while his other hand settled securely against the curve of your hip. Before you could even think about what he was doing, he stepped into your space, closing the distance between you so naturally that your body instinctively gave way. You took one step backward. Then another.

His height seemed to swallow the room the closer he came, broad shoulders eclipsing the warm light overhead until your gaze was filled with nothing but him. He crowded your space without ever feeling forceful, his warmth surrounding you as he continued guiding you back with slow, patient confidence. A second later, your back met the solid wood of the door with a quiet thud. Click. The door gently swung shut behind you.

His large hand followed your raised arm, settling against the wood above your head as he loosely held your wrist there, not trapping you so much as giving you nowhere else to think about looking besides him. The cool surface of the door pressed against your back while the heat radiating from his body seeped through the thin fabric of your dress, the contrast making your skin prickle. He was so close. Close enough that the front of his body barely brushed yours with every slow breath the two of you shared. Close enough that you could smell the clean cedar and spice lingering on his skin beneath whatever cologne he’d worn. Close enough that all you could see when you looked up were those impossibly golden eyes staring back down at you through the lenses of his reading glasses.

Your breath caught before you could stop it. Your eyes widened. Heat flooded into your cheeks so quickly they almost burned, and your knees threatened to betray you beneath the weight of your own nerves. Your heart pounded so hard against your ribs that you wondered if it might actually leap straight out of your chest. God damn it. He could hear every beat of it. With senses as sharp as his, there wasn’t a chance you could hide what was happening to you. He could hear your pulse racing, feel the tiny hitch in your breathing, even smell the adrenaline blooming beneath your skin from being this impossibly close to him. He knew exactly what he was doing to you. Then, just when you were convinced he was about to say something unbearably smug, a soft laugh escaped him instead.

“Woops,” he chuckled, the sound warm enough that you felt it more than heard it, “almost forgot to close the door there for a sec.”

The teasing smile never left his face. His gaze wandered over you once more with slow, unmistakable admiration before drifting toward the doorknob just beside you. His hand slipped away from your hip, brushing lightly across your side as it reached past you. You heard the quiet metallic click. He’d locked the door.

“Not that we need any interruptions…” He murmured more to himself than to you, his gaze lifting from the lock to settle on your eyes again. The teasing amusement never quite left his face, though it softened into something slower, warmer, almost dangerous as he studied you from only inches away, “y’know…I was just kidding about eating ya.”

His hand drifted lazily from the curve of your hip until it settled against the small of your back, his broad palm spanning almost the entire width of your waist. Before you had the chance to respond, he suddenly pulled you forward, closing what little space remained between the two of you. The movement stole a tiny gasp from your lungs as your body met the firm warmth of his, his lower body pressing into you while the solid door at your back left nowhere else to retreat. Instinctively, your free hand flew to his chest, your palm flattening against the hard muscle beneath his crisp dress shirt. You could feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing beneath your fingertips as he lowered his face toward yours until his lips hovered beside your ear. At the same time, he released your wrist, his fingers gliding gently through your hair instead, gathering it behind your shoulder before burying his hand at the back of your head with a tenderness that only made your pulse race harder.

“Unless…” The single word was almost swallowed by the warmth of his breath as it drifted across the shell of your ear, sending a pleasant shiver crawling down the back of your neck.

You could practically hear the smirk lingering over his lips before he nestled his face into your hair, breathing you in with slow, indulgent satisfaction. Then you felt the delicate scrape of sharp teeth as they found your earlobe, catching it in the gentlest teasing pull imaginable. It wasn’t enough to hurt; just enough to make your breath threaten to betray you. God. You heard him swallow. No…You felt it. The subtle movement vibrated against you, and somehow that tiny sound was enough to remind you exactly what he was. A hungry bastard. A hopelessly hungry, shamelessly horny wolf of a man who looked at you like he was trying to decide whether affection or appetite would win first.

“I’d kill for a taste of ya,” he admitted quietly, the words muffled against your hair.

Every instinct screamed at you to melt. To let the warmth in his voice, the closeness, the intoxicating scent of him, and the gentle pull of those teeth chip away at your resolve until you gave him exactly what he wanted.

Absolutely not. Over your dead body were you about to let this giant goof believe his pathetic attempts at being smooth had actually worked.

Your fingers shot up and wrapped around his neatly knotted tie. With one firm tug, you yanked him forward until his face was directly in front of yours again, forcing him to meet your eyes. His head dipped obediently with the pull, and the reaction that flashed across his face made your stomach flutter all over again. His eyes practically lit up, pupils widening with unmistakable excitement. There it was; that rush he never seemed capable of hiding whenever you handled him fearlessly. He wasn’t offended by your confidence. If anything, it thrilled him. The corners of his mouth twitched upward into the beginnings of another grin, and you could already tell he was enjoying this far more than he had any right to.

“In your dreams,” you scoffed, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing just how flustered he’d actually made you.

Holding his tie firmly in your fist, you arched a brow and tilted your chin just enough to remind him exactly who was making who lean in.

“So…” Your lips curled into the faintest teasing smile, “are we gonna discuss those experimentation archives…Or are you just gonna pathetically beg to eat me out?”

Then…He smiled. Not sheepishly. Not apologetically. He smiled with the kind of shameless confidence that somehow only made him more impossible to deal with. Without a hint of embarrassment, he gently released you and took a small step back, the warmth of his body disappearing just enough for you to breathe again. You barely had a second to gather yourself before he did something that sent your entire train of thought crashing off a cliff. He calmly lowered himself onto one knee. Then the other. Right there. Right in front of you.

Your heart nearly stopped. This enormous, intimidating man, the chairman of EonCore Tech, the head of an entire werewolf clan, a man who commanded the respect of everyone around him without even trying, had absolutely no hesitation whatsoever about kneeling before you because of one sarcastic comment. There wasn’t the slightest trace of pride wounded in his expression. No reluctance. No self-consciousness. If anything, he looked perfectly at ease, smiling up at you as though this was the most natural thing in the world. God…He fucking liked it. He liked being teased. He liked being bossed around. He liked seeing you flustered. Some sick part of him was probably enjoying the fact that your brain had just completely shut down.

“Valko…” You managed through gritted teeth, your voice sounding far less composed than you’d intended.

Your thighs squeezed together before you even realized you’d done it. He noticed. Of course he noticed.

“I can do both,” he replied with an easy shrug, looking up at you with those bright eyes full of unmistakable excitement. His grin only widened as he watched you struggle to recover your composure, completely delighted by how thoroughly he’d unraveled you, “pretty please?”

The sheer absurdity of the situation finally caught up to you.

A laugh escaped before you could stop it, “oh, no.”

You leaned forward and caught his tie in your fist again, giving it a firm tug that drew him just a little closer.

“No,” you repeated through your laughter, “come on, get back up. I was joking.”

Without the slightest complaint, he obeyed immediately. He rose smoothly to his feet, following the pull on his tie until he was standing in front of you once again, his broad frame swallowing your view as he resumed towering comfortably over you. The corners of his mouth still twitched with poorly concealed amusement.

“I wasn’t,” he admitted with complete sincerity, sounding almost disappointed that the opportunity had passed him by. Then he chuckled softly and lifted both hands in surrender, “but alright, alright. We can talk business over some food and drinks.”

His smile softened.

“I brought your favorite wine, too…” He added, his voice warming with unmistakable affection, “…If you’ll join me.”

Something in your chest melted despite your best efforts to stop it. You looked up into those ridiculously earnest eyes and found yourself smiling before you could think better of it. Relief washed through you now that he was standing again, though another part of you still wanted to smack that stupidly handsome face for nearly giving you a heart attack with his shameless antics. You folded your arms across your chest in a last-ditch effort to recover what little dignity you still had.

“Wonderful,” the tiny smile tugging at the corners of your mouth completely ruined the effect.

With that settled, Valko took your hand as though it belonged there and led you over to the large leather couch before the table and built-in grill. He waited until you sat before lowering himself beside you, and the entire cushion dipped dramatically beneath his weight. You tried to brace yourself, but it was hopeless. The leather sank just enough that your body slid straight toward him until your shoulder brushed warmly against his chest. Of course it did. It happened every single time you sat beside him, and judging by the satisfied little smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, it happened exactly the way he liked it.

Without saying a word, he shrugged his suit jacket from his broad shoulders and draped it neatly over the arm of the couch before undoing the cuffs of his dress shirt. His fingers worked deftly at each button until he rolled the sleeves back to his elbows, exposing powerful forearms that shifted beneath warm, sun-tanned skin every time he moved. He reached over and switched on the grill, the quiet hiss of the flames coming to life filling the room as gentle heat slowly began to spread through the private dining suite, below the above vent. While it warmed, he uncorked the bottle of wine with practiced ease, poured two generous glasses of deep ruby cabernet, and handed one to you before lifting his own with a warm smile.

“Cheers,” he said, lightly tapping the rim of his glass against yours.

You practically gulped your first sip, the familiar bitterness washing over your tongue before settling into a pleasant warmth that spread slowly through your chest. A quiet breath escaped you before you even realized you were holding it. The truth was, you couldn’t resist Valko anymore, and that realization had become harder to deny with every passing week. You hated how much you wanted him. Hated how naturally your eyes searched for him whenever he walked into a room. Hated how attractive he became the more you got to know him, because it had nothing to do with the expensive suits, the prestigious title, the lab coat, or even the dangerous mystique of being a werewolf.

It was the man underneath all of it that had slowly worked his way beneath your skin. It was the way he laughed without restraint, the way he wore every emotion openly instead of hiding behind pride, the way he made you feel safe without ever making you feel trapped, and the way he somehow balanced being a brilliant man with being the biggest, cockiest, most forgetful dork you’d ever met. Somewhere along the way, you’d stopped looking at Valko as the chairman of EonCore Tech and started looking at him as simply…Valko.

That was the dangerous part, because you weren’t supposed to like him for who he was. You definitely weren’t supposed to find yourself wanting more of him every time you said goodbye, yet the more time the two of you spent together, the deeper the connection became. Every dinner lasted longer than the last, every lingering glance carried more weight, and every touch seemed to leave your skin craving another until the chemistry between you had become almost impossible to ignore. It felt as though both of you were quietly reaching the same inevitable destination, each meeting making it harder to keep your hands off one another.

So far, you’d always managed to stop before crossing the line. You had let him kiss you until your lips were swollen and tingling, let him hold you against his broad chest until you could barely remember why you were supposed to keep your distance, and even let those huge hands wander over your body until they rested over the thin fabric of your soaked thong. Every single time, your heart would begin hammering so violently that you’d catch his wrists with a breathless laugh and make him stop before either of you could lose yourselves completely.

That boundary had survived every stolen night the two of you had shared, but lately you couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t going to survive much longer. You’d promised yourself after your first kiss that it would never happen again. Then you’d sworn you’d never spend the night at his place. After that, you’d insisted you’d never end up with that giant hunk of a dork half naked on top of you in his bed, flushed, breathless, and shamelessly begging to bury his face between your thighs. Looking back now, you couldn’t help smiling into your wine, because every one of those promises had been a lie you told yourself in a desperate attempt to slow down something that had been inevitable from the very beginning.

And if that wasn’t bad enough, you were beginning to realize it wasn’t only desire growing inside you anymore. It was curiosity. The longer the two of you danced around that invisible line you kept drawing between yourselves, the more intensely you found yourself wondering what waited on the other side of it. Every time you watched him smile across a dimly lit room, every time laughter pulled at the corners of his mouth and those unmistakable canines caught the warm light, your mind betrayed you in ways you never would’ve admitted out loud. You found yourself staring at his lips far longer than was appropriate, wondering what they would feel like if they weren’t kissing you, but worshipping your pussy instead. The thought alone was enough to make heat settle low in your stomach, a dangerous warmth that had become increasingly difficult to ignore.

God…You’d caught yourself thinking about it more than once. Late at night, lying alone beneath your blankets after another evening spent with him, you’d find one hand slipping beneath the sheets almost absentmindedly, your thighs spreading as your imagination wandered somewhere you stubbornly insisted it never would. You pictured those same teasing lips between your legs, pictured the way he’d undoubtedly look up at you through those bright golden eyes while shamelessly indulging himself, imagined the slow drag of his tongue, the hungry enthusiasm that seemed woven into every instinct he possessed, and the embarrassing thought of him practically drooling over the chance to taste you.

Every fantasy left you breathless, your fingers moving with increasing desperation as your body responded far more eagerly than your pride ever wanted to admit. The image of Valko alone was enough to unravel you completely, and every time your imagination lingered there, your orgasms crashed over you with an intensity that left you lying in stunned silence afterward, cheeks burning as you cursed yourself for becoming so hopelessly affected by one impossibly handsome, hopelessly affectionate werewolf.

It was mortifying. You would never tell him. As far as Valko knew, he was the only one suffering from an embarrassingly overactive imagination. He never seemed ashamed of it, either. If anything, he wore his desires as openly as every other emotion he had, making absolutely no effort to hide how badly he wanted to make you fall apart beneath him. He’d confessed more than once that he fantasized about making you cum, about earning the privilege of hearing you shout his name without restraint, about leaving you so overwhelmed with pleasure that you’d finish against his mouth while your trembling thighs squeezed around his head. He spoke about it with the same shameless sincerity he brought to everything else, openly wondering what you would taste like, what you’d sound like when you finally stopped holding yourself back, and every time he admitted those thoughts with that hopelessly earnest smile, you pretended to roll your eyes while secretly wondering whether your own fantasies were really any less carnal than his.

God damn it. You took another generous sip of your wine, hoping the warmth spreading through your chest would drown out the entirely different heat pooling low in your body. It didn’t. If anything, the thoughts you’d been trying so hard to suppress only lingered longer, making the space between your thighs ache with a frustrating awareness that seemed impossible to ignore. The alcohol certainly wasn’t helping that particular problem, but it was helping somewhere else. Little by little, it loosened the knot of nervous tension that always settled in your chest whenever you were around him, softening your guard just enough that you stopped overthinking every glance, every touch, every heartbeat that seemed to race the moment he looked your way.

Without really thinking about it, you let him slip an arm comfortably around your waist. His embrace was warm, easy, and so familiar now that your body instinctively melted into it, fitting naturally against the broad wall of muscle at his side while he lazily swirled the deep red wine around his glass with his free hand. Across from you, the first cuts of meat had begun to hiss and sizzle on the hot grill, releasing a rich, mouthwatering aroma that quickly filled the private dining room. Thin ribbons of smoke curled upward toward the vent overhead, disappearing almost as quickly as they formed while the comforting crackle of cooking food settled into the background alongside the quiet clink of crystal and the soft hum of the room around you.

You let yourself sink against Valko a little more. The warmth radiating from his body seeped pleasantly through the thin fabric of your dress, chasing away the lingering chill from outside. His cologne lingered around him in soft, woodsy notes, mingling with the faint scent of charcoal and grilled steak until every slow breath seemed to carry a little more of him with it. Your free hand came to rest almost absentmindedly atop his broad thigh, the solid heat beneath your fingertips grounding you far more effectively than the wine ever could. His large hand gave your hip an absentminded squeeze, thumb brushing slow circles through the fabric of your dress as he glanced down at you with the easy attentiveness that seemed so natural to him.

“You want any music? TV? Anything?” He asked warmly, “the lights okay for ya?”

A quiet laugh escaped through your nose before you could stop it. You tipped your head back just enough to meet his eyes, smiling despite yourself.

“I’m okay…” You answered softly, “you can put music on in the background if you want. I don’t mind.”

You took another sip of your wine before leaning toward him with the faintest mischievous smile tugging at your lips.

“As long as you don’t let it distract you from your ADHD info-dumping about your latest analysis,” you teased, bumping your shoulder lightly against his chest, “I’m okay.”

“I don’t info-dump!” He protested, letting out a hearty laugh despite the mock offense knitting his thick brows together. He took another generous gulp of wine before leaning forward to set his glass on the table, grabbing the metal tongs to flip the sizzling slices of meat one by one. Rich juices hissed against the hot grill, releasing another wave of smoky aroma that filled the room, “you’re a liar.”

You leaned in beside him, watching the meat cook together. Swirling your wine lazily, you caught his gaze out of the corner of your eye, unable to resist the grin spreading across your face.

“You literally went off on a tangent about protocore properties and alignments at one in the morning the last time I slept over, you nerd,” you reminded him, “did you already forget about that?”

You watched the memory hit him in real time. His eyes widened so dramatically it was almost cartoonish, and his entire body froze with the tongs suspended awkwardly over the grill. His mouth fell open just a fraction while his expression shifted from confusion to dawning realization, and you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing. You nearly choked on another sip of wine as you watched the embarrassment spread across his handsome face one painfully slow second at a time.

“Valkooo…” You sang sweetly, unable to resist teasing him while he remained frozen in place.

Your fingertips wandered absentmindedly down his broad forearm, tracing the path of a prominent vein beneath his warm skin before continuing toward his wrist. The contact made his muscles twitch beneath your touch, but he was still so caught up in his own embarrassment that he barely seemed to notice. You glanced toward the grill, where the meat had begun to brown a little more than intended, and gently nudged his arm with your fingers.

“Aren’t you forgetting something already?” You cooed.

His head snapped toward you. Then toward the grill. Then back to you again.

“…Huh?” He blinked, “oh, God…What?”

The look of genuine panic on his face sent another fit of laughter bubbling out of your chest. He looked so earnestly worried that he’d somehow ruined the evening, and it was so hopelessly adorable that you couldn’t help yourself. Reaching up, you flicked him squarely in the forehead.

“Ow!” He recoiled with a dramatic wince, immediately covering the offended spot with one hand while shooting you the most betrayed frown imaginable.

You only laughed harder, “the music, silly.”

He blinked.

“…Oh.”

A beat passed. Then it finally clicked.

“Right.”

His shoulders slumped as he shook his head at himself, a quiet, self-deprecating sigh escaping him while he reached for the remote.

“Duh.”

You smiled into your wine, watching him laugh at his own forgetfulness as soft music gradually filled the room. There were no lyrics to compete with conversation, just a mellow melody drifting comfortably through the private dining suite, blending with the gentle crackle of the grill and the occasional hiss of rendered fat meeting hot metal. While you were still quietly giggling to yourself, Valko picked up a pair of metal chopsticks and selected one beautifully seared slice of steak. He blew across it a couple of times to cool it before turning back toward you with the unmistakable look of someone about to interrupt your teasing.

“Hey—!”

Before you could finish, he gently pressed the warm slice of meat against your lips. Your protest dissolved into an amused hum as you accepted the bite, letting him feed you while he wore the most ridiculously satisfied smile on his face. The meat practically melted the moment you bit into it, impossibly tender and rich with buttery flavor, and you chewed slowly while looking up at him over the rim of your wine glass.

He was still smiling. Still just a little pink around the ears from embarrassing himself. God…That was your favorite part of him. Not the fancy suits and half-shrugged lab coats. Not the confidence. Not the chairman of EonCore everyone else admired. It was the hopelessly clumsy man hiding underneath all of that. The one who forgot what he was doing halfway through cooking dinner, who accidentally rambled to you about scientific theories at one in the morning without realizing it, who tried so hard to be smooth only to trip over his own enthusiasm every single time. Somehow, that awkward sincerity made him even more attractive than the polished image he presented to the rest of the world. Deep down…The biggest dork you’d ever met was also, somehow, one of the sexiest men you’d ever known.

“Good?” He asked, smiling expectantly as he watched your reaction far more closely than he watched the food still cooking on the grill.

You didn’t even answer right away. The moment the steak touched your tongue, it practically dissolved into buttery tenderness, rich enough that your eyes fluttered shut on instinct before rolling back with quiet satisfaction. A pleased hum escaped you as you covered your mouth politely while you finished chewing, unwilling to waste a single bite by speaking too soon.

“Amazing,” you finally managed, smiling behind your hand.

The pride that spread across Valko’s face made it seem as though he’d personally raised the cow.

“There it is,” he laughed, looking entirely too pleased with himself as he reached back toward the grill, “knew you’d like it.”

The evening slipped by with surprising ease after that. Between bites of perfectly grilled meat and slow sips of expensive wine, the two of you gradually settled into the comfortable rhythm your meetings had begun to develop over the past several weeks. Once the food was spread across the table, Valko reached for the remote again and pulled a PowerPoint presentation onto the television, casually transitioning into the reason you were supposedly there in the first place. Colorful slides replaced the soft ambience on the screen as he walked you through his latest findings, occasionally gesturing with his chopsticks whenever a particular graph or photograph caught his attention.

It wasn’t anything especially demanding. There were no complicated equations to solve, no endless technical lectures, and certainly nothing dry enough to make either of you regret opening the presentation in the first place. It was simply information; valuable intelligence he’d already planned on emailing to you later anyway, the kind you could always revisit on your work computer next week with a fresh mind and another cup of coffee. Tonight wasn’t really about burying yourselves in work.

It hadn’t been for quite some time. Somewhere along the way, these meetings had quietly transformed into something else entirely. Business had simply become the excuse. The real reason either of you looked forward to Friday nights had very little to do with reports or research anymore. It was the excuse to share a meal together. To open another bottle of wine. To steal a few uninterrupted hours away from the rest of the world where the two of you could simply exist in each other’s company without anyone asking questions.

By the time the last slide disappeared from the television, neither of you had much to say about the research anymore. Valko clicked the screen dark, tossed the remote carelessly onto the couch beside him, and leaned back with an easy sigh as he pocketed his reading glasses away. The room immediately felt different. Without the presentation demanding your attention, conversation wandered wherever it pleased. Business gave way to stories neither of you had remembered until that moment. One joke led to another, then another, until you were both interrupting each other with laughter more often than actual sentences. He teased you whenever you rolled your eyes at one of his terrible puns. You mocked him every time he forgot what he was saying halfway through a story. Somewhere between another refill of wine and the last few pieces of steak, wagyu, and brisket disappearing from the grill, the evening became exactly what the two of you had quietly hoped it would be from the very beginning. Less business. More banter. More laughter.

Eventually, the wine began doing exactly what you’d wanted it to do. The lingering edge of nervousness that always seemed to follow you around Valko had long since dissolved beneath its pleasant warmth, leaving you comfortably relaxed, pleasantly buzzed, and laughing far more easily than you normally would. Every joke seemed funnier, every teasing remark earned another giggle, and every accidental brush against him felt just a little more difficult to pretend hadn’t affected you. By that point, you had become exactly what a couple glasses of cabernet always turned you into around him: a warm, giggling mess who had stopped overthinking every little thing.

When both of your glasses began running low, you reached across him toward the bottle resting closer to his side of the table. As you leaned forward, your dress stretched gently over your ass, and you became painfully aware of every movement you were making. You knew exactly what you were doing. You knew the subtle arch settling into your spine wasn’t entirely accidental, just as you knew it pushed your hips back in a way that made the fitted fabric hug every curve. Whether you wanted to admit it or not, some mischievous part of you wanted to see if he’d notice.

Of course he noticed. You didn’t even have to look at him to know where his eyes had gone. From the corner of your vision, you could see him lounging comfortably against the couch, one arm draped lazily along the backrest while his knees remained spread in relaxed ease. He made absolutely no effort to disguise the slow, appreciative way his gaze followed you, and somehow that only made your cheeks grow warmer. The silence lingered just long enough for you to become acutely aware of him behind you before you felt it. His hand.

It moved unhurriedly, almost absentmindedly, until his fingertips found the open back of your dress. They settled against the bare skin exposed there before slowly tracing the elegant slope of your spine with featherlight pressure. The touch was so gentle it barely qualified as a caress, yet it sent a pleasant shiver rolling through you all the same. His fingertips drifted lower by only an inch before lazily retracing their path, savoring the simple contact while a quiet, thoroughly appreciative hum escaped somewhere deep in his chest. You bit back the smile threatening to spread across your face. God…He was so unbelievably easy to read.

“You might as well just…” He began, a knowing grin already spreading across his face before you had the chance to ask what he meant.

Then, without another word, his huge hands settled around your waist. They engulfed your sides so completely it almost startled you, and before you could protest, he effortlessly lifted you clean off the couch as though you weighed next to nothing. A surprised little gasp escaped you as he guided you backward and settled you sideways across one of his broad thighs. He gave you a gentle bounce to seat you comfortably over his knee, the movement so effortless that it only reminded you all over again just how absurdly strong he really was.

“There,” he said with a smile so smug you almost wanted to smack it off his face, “that’s a whole lot better.”

His hands remained planted securely on your hips, supposedly to steady you while you reached for the wine. You knew better. The slow, indulgent squeeze he gave your hips wasn’t about supporting you at all. It was about the view. His broad palms lingered there shamelessly, thumbs pressing appreciatively into your waist while his golden eyes wandered over you with absolutely no attempt to disguise what he was enjoying. The bastard looked downright delighted to have you perched across his lap like this.

You turned your head just enough to shoot him a glare over your shoulder before reaching for the bottle, “fucking pervert—”

The words caught in your throat when you felt him start bouncing his leg beneath you. A tiny gasp escaped before you could stop it. The lazy rhythm lifted you ever so slightly with every bounce, making your ass gently rise and fall against the solid muscle of his thigh while he leaned farther back into the couch, completely relaxed. He wasn’t even pretending anymore. He simply sat there watching your ass bounce for him with the biggest, most satisfied grin on his face, looking as though this alone had made his entire evening.

“You were saying?” He challenged, arching a thick brow as his canines caught the warm light of the private dining room.

His grin only widened when you refused to look back at him.

“I could be worse,” another playful bounce rolled through his leg beneath you, earning himself another tiny shift of your hips, “I’m just letting ya pour the drinks ’cause you want more.”

His smile turned unmistakably wolfish.

“But I could always be worse,” he winked.

“Oh, yeah?” You reached for the bottle anyway, refusing to give him the satisfaction of acknowledging how much your pulse had quickened.

Carefully, you poured his glass first. The deep ruby wine flowed steadily into the crystal, and you knew perfectly well he wasn’t stupid enough to jostle you while you were balancing an expensive bottle over both of your laps. Once his glass was full, you moved to your own without spilling a single drop.

“What would you do,” you asked, lifting your eyes toward him with a teasing challenge, “if I didn’t have a full glass of wine in my hand right now, huh?”

His chuckle rumbled warmly beneath you, the vibration carrying straight through the powerful thigh supporting your weight.

“Easy,” he answered without missing a beat.

His fingers tightened ever so slightly over your hips.

“I’d just pull you all the way back…” His grin grew even more shameless as his eyes held yours, completely unbothered by how brazen he sounded, “and bounce you on something else instead.”

Your breath caught so abruptly it almost hurt. Heat flooded your cheeks the instant his words registered, and by the time you’d finished pouring the first glass, your heart was already racing fast enough that you wondered if he could hear it over the quiet music. You turned back toward him, fully intending to throw another sarcastic remark his way, only for your eyes to follow the direction of his grin.

Then you realized exactly what he’d meant. Oh…God. There, nestled comfortably between the spread of his thick thighs as he lounged back against the couch, was the unmistakable outline of his crotch beneath the tailored fabric of his slacks. He wasn’t even fully hard, not really, and somehow that only made it worse. Even completely relaxed, the heavy prominence resting there was impossible to ignore, especially with the way he sat so shamelessly open, looking thoroughly entertained by the realization slowly washing across your face. The bastard knew exactly where your eyes had gone. He watched you notice. Watched your expression betray you. And smiled.

The image settled into your mind far faster than you wanted it to, and before you could stop yourself, your imagination supplied the rest. The thought of him pulling you backward into his lap and bouncing you over his cock the way he’d just threatened sent a rush of heat roaring through your stomach. It spread downward so quickly it almost stole your breath, pooling low between your legs until you had to fight the urge to squeeze your thighs together. God damn it. You hated how vividly your mind pictured it. You hated even more how badly some reckless little part of you wanted to know what it would actually feel like.

“Oh, you want to get smacked,” you scoffed, forcing every ounce of composure you could manage back into your voice as you reached for the bottle again and carefully began filling the second glass.

“Fiiiine…” He lifted both hands dramatically into the air in surrender, his grin never once wavering, “I’ll behave, I’ll behave.”

He leaned back again with exaggerated innocence, though the amusement dancing in his golden eyes completely ruined the act.

“I’ll just pretend you’re totally innocent and not teasing me beyond my wit’s end right now,” he smirked.

“I didn’t do shit!” You shot back, carefully lifting both glasses before extending one toward him.

He accepted it, his fingertips brushing lazily against yours as he took the crystal from your hand. Instead of answering immediately, he gave you the most profoundly unimpressed look you’d ever seen, one brow slowly rising while he took his sweet time looking you over.

“Look at how you’re sitting,” he said calmly, “now, say that again.”

Your mouth opened. Then closed…Oh. Right. Without even realizing it, you’d settled into exactly the posture he’d been admiring. Your spine was straight, your shoulders naturally drawn back, pushing your breasts forward beneath the fitted neckline of your dress, while the way you remained perched sideways over his thigh left your hips tilted just enough that your ass arched behind you. You hadn’t done it consciously…Or at least…You weren’t entirely sure you hadn’t.

His eyes wandered over you with slow, shameless appreciation, lingering just long enough on every curve to make your pulse climb another notch before finally returning to your face. He lazily swirled the deep ruby wine around his glass, lifted it to his lips, and took an unhurried sip without ever once breaking eye contact, as though he were patiently waiting for you to explain yourself. Or confess. Or come up with some excuse he already knew you didn’t have.

“And what you’re wearing,” he pointed out with a shameless smile, letting his eyes wander over you one more slow time before meeting yours again, “not that I have any complaints…”

“You’re lucky I have my hands full right now,” you gritted out through an unwilling smile, carefully balancing your glass as you tried your hardest not to laugh at him.

“Nah,” he replied with an easy chuckle.

His arm slipped comfortably around your waist before you could protest, his broad hand spanning your side as he gently drew you closer. The movement was slow enough that you never felt rushed, only guided until your body settled naturally against the solid warmth of his. He shifted you with effortless care, helping you turn just enough that both of your legs came to rest comfortably across his lap. The couch dipped beneath the combined weight of you both, leaving you tucked securely against his broad chest exactly where he wanted you.

“I’m lucky I have my hands full,” he confessed softly.

The quiet sincerity in his voice stole the bite from your comeback. His arm remained warm against your waist while his thumb lazily stroked through the fabric of your dress. His hand settled comfortably beneath the outside of your thigh, naturally finding the gentle curve where your weight lifted your hip just enough from leaning into him. He wasn’t squeezing this time. He simply held you there with an affectionate steadiness, as though he couldn’t imagine sitting beside you without touching you somehow.

Then he leaned in. His nose brushed lightly beneath your jaw before he buried his face against the curve where your neck met your shoulder, breathing you in with an unmistakable sigh of contentment. His woodsy cologne surrounded you all over again, mixing with the lingering aroma of grilled wagyu and red wine until everything about the moment felt impossibly warm and comfortable. A soft kiss landed against your collarbone. It lingered for only a heartbeat before his lips curved into the smallest smile against your skin.

“I’m lucky you’re sitting here with me,” he murmured, his voice low enough that you felt the words vibrate against you.

Then, just because he couldn’t help himself, his teeth caught your collarbone in the gentlest playful nip. You snorted before you could stop yourself.

“There it is,” he laughed quietly against your skin.

You rolled your eyes, though the fond smile tugging at your lips ruined any attempt at looking annoyed.

“You’re sweet,” you admitted at last, relenting as you lifted your glass toward his.

The corners of his eyes softened immediately. Neither of you said another word as your glasses met with a delicate clink. You drank together, the rich wine warming your tongue before slipping pleasantly down your throat, and when you settled back again, you found yourself relaxing even further against him. Your free arm drifted naturally around the back of his neck, fingers absently brushing through the hair at his nape while he welcomed you even closer without hesitation. His arm remained secure around your waist, his hand resting comfortably beneath the side of your ass lifted ever so slightly by the way you leaned into him, keeping you nestled against the broad warmth of his body as though there was nowhere else either of you would rather be.

“I missed you,” he confessed quietly, his voice softening in a way it only seemed to around you. He nestled his face into the crook of your neck again, his nose brushing gently against your skin as he breathed you in with a slow, contented inhale. It was such an unmistakably wolfish habit by now that you barely questioned it anymore. If anything, you found yourself relaxing beneath it, your shoulders loosening as he sighed happily against you, “y’know…I could’ve just emailed you everything. I honestly just really wanted to see you.”

You knew that. You’d known it before you’d even walked through the door. The reports had never really been the reason tonight existed.

“You can see me, silly,” you admitted, the wine loosening your tongue just enough that the truth slipped out before your pride could stop it. You lifted your glass, and the two of you shared another slow sip together, the rich cabernet warming your chest as you settled even more comfortably against him, “it doesn’t have to be business all the time…”

His smile grew immediately, “so…”

His golden eyes searched yours with unmistakable hope.

“You’re saying you’d accept a date?” He almost sounded afraid to assume, “no business. No work talk. Just dinner and drinks…And no responsibilities?”

A quiet sigh escaped you. You couldn’t even pretend to resist anymore.

“That should be obvious by now…” You admit.

His entire face lit up.

“Why didn’t you just say so?!” He laughed, the sound bright enough to make you laugh under your breath with him, “damn, and here I am making up a thousand excuses just to spend time with you. You should’ve said so.”

“I thought it’d be clear as day, you giant dork,” you teased, nudging him lightly with your shoulder.

He shrugged, though there was an honesty in his expression that softened your smile.

“I dunno…You always act like you only wanna see me because of business,” he looked sheepishly into his wine for a moment before meeting your eyes again, “I figured all the other stuff was just…A nice little cherry on top. I didn’t think you’d wanna see me just for the sake of seeing me.”

Hearing him say it out loud made something quietly shift inside you, because when you looked back over the last couple months, you couldn’t honestly blame him for thinking that way. You had been guarded from the very beginning. Every time the two of you had taken a step closer, you’d instinctively rebuilt the walls you’d spent years hiding behind. You constantly reminded yourself that Valko had once been your enemy before circumstances forced the two of you onto the same side, and even after he’d become someone you trusted, you still treated your growing feelings like they were something dangerous to keep under control.

The problem was that those feelings had never stopped growing. Somewhere between exchanging intel, sharing dinners, laughing until restaurants closed around you, and spending long nights talking about everything and nothing, Valko had quietly become one of your favorite parts of the week. You found yourself looking forward to seeing him long before either of you had admitted your meetings had become excuses rather than obligations. His messages made you smile. His laugh lingered in your thoughts after you went home. Even the smallest moments, sharing a bottle of wine, listening to him ramble excitedly about something that fascinated him, watching him forget what he was saying halfway through a sentence, had become memories you carried with surprising fondness.

You also knew enough about his werewolf nature to understand what biology meant for someone like him. His instincts had recognized you long before either of you had acknowledged what was happening between you, and there was no denying that his bond with you ran deeper because of it. Yet the more time you spent together, the less you believed instinct was the whole story. The man holding you now wasn’t making time for you because some ancient drive demanded it. He remembered your favorite wine because he paid attention. He invented excuses to see you because he genuinely enjoyed your company. He laughed at your teasing, listened when you spoke, and looked at you with a warmth that no instinct alone could ever explain.

His biology may have introduced you to each other, but it wasn’t the reason he had fallen for you. Valko had fallen for your stubbornness, your wit, your compassion, your sharp tongue, your mind, and every wonderfully complicated part of who you were. He wanted you as a whole person, not as an obligation of instinct or fate. And somewhere along the way, without ever meaning to, you had fallen just as deeply for him.

“I…Do,” you found yourself admitting at last.

The words came out quieter than you intended. Your eyes drifted down into the deep red wine swirling gently in your glass as everything he’d just said settled inside you with startling clarity. You weren’t fighting the truth anymore. You weren’t trying to explain it away or hide behind work, circumstance, or duty. Somewhere along the way, the walls you’d spent so long building had quietly crumbled without you even noticing. You genuinely wanted to see him. Not because there was a report to exchange. Not because there was another mission to discuss. Simply because it was him.

“Well, I do too, Y/n,” he answered.

There wasn’t even the slightest hint of hesitation in his voice. It wasn’t a confession. Confessions implied something hidden, something carefully guarded until the right moment. Valko had never loved that way. He wore every emotion openly, offering his heart with the same fearless sincerity he brought to everything else in life. When he cared, everyone knew it. When he was excited, his smile gave him away before he spoke. When he missed you, he simply said so. There was something almost refreshing about how completely incapable he was of pretending otherwise.

Still smiling to himself, he took another sip of wine before leaning toward the end table beside the couch. He carefully placed his glass down before turning his full attention back to you, as though nothing else in the room mattered anymore.

“So?”

His broad hand settled warmly against the thigh farthest from him, his palm spanning nearly its entire width. With gentle insistence, he guided your leg over the other until your body naturally turned toward him, your full weight settling comfortably against his side. The movement brought you even closer, leaving hardly any space between your bodies. Then he reached for your wine. Without asking, he carefully lifted the glass from your fingers and set it beside his own. Every distraction disappeared. Your heartbeat stumbled. Oh…God. He was serious. There wasn’t a teasing grin waiting to undermine the moment. No terrible joke. No playful attempt to fluster you. Only those warm golden eyes watching you with quiet hope.

“Wanna catch a movie with me tomorrow night, maybe come over and I can cook us dinner afterwards?” He asked gently, “as a date. A real date.”

His smile softened into something almost boyishly hopeful.

“Not work. Not business. No spooky lab stuff. No research data,” he gave the smallest shrug before looking at you with the kind of honesty that always managed to undo you, “just two people who like each other and wanna spend some one-on-one time together.”

Your chest tightened. Before you realized it, you were smiling. Not the sarcastic little smirk you usually hid behind. A real smile. Warm. Unforced. Your hand rose almost on its own until your palm rested against the center of his broad chest. Beneath your fingertips, you felt the firm muscle beneath his dress shirt, warm from the evening, and before you could begin absentmindedly tracing slow circles over him, his much larger hand settled over yours. He pressed your palm gently closer.

“Feel that?” He asked softly.

You did. His heart was racing. Not a little. Not politely. It was pounding beneath your hand with enough force that you could feel every hurried beat through his shirt, and the realization stole what little composure you still had. God…He was just as nervous as you were. For all his confidence, for all his flirting and shameless teasing, this mattered to him enough to make his pulse race. Your own heartbeat answered almost immediately. You could feel it quickening in your chest until, somehow, the two of you seemed to find the same rhythm, each heartbeat urging the other faster as you sat there looking into each other’s eyes.

“Yeah,” you whispered.

You nodded as your thumb continued rubbing slow, unconscious circles against his chest beneath his hand.

“I’ll go on a movie date with you, Val,” a quiet laugh escaped you as your old instincts tried one last time to protect your heart, “but just one. No promises that I’ll—”

“—Wait, seriously??” His entire body lit up before you could even finish the sentence.

Then you saw it. The moment your answer truly registered with him. Hidden low within the tousled strands of his auburn hair, the second pair of ears he’d spent the entire evening unconsciously keeping tucked away suddenly sprang upright. His wolf ears perked forward so quickly they almost twitched, swiveling toward you with unmistakable excitement as though they’d completely forgotten they were supposed to stay hidden. At the very same time, his pupils widened until the brilliant gold of his irises darkened around them, and he instinctively straightened where he sat, his entire body seeming to come alive with one overwhelming rush of happiness.

Beneath your hand, his heart somehow began racing even faster. You hadn’t thought that was possible.nThe frantic rhythm hammered against your palm with so much unrestrained excitement that it made your own chest tighten. For all the confidence he carried, for all the shameless flirting and relentless teasing he threw your way every chance he got, this completely undid him. His sculpted cheeks flushed a warm pink, and for the first time all evening, he almost looked…Shy.

God damn it. He was somehow even more intense after a few glasses of wine. And infinitely more endearing. The alcohol had stripped away what little restraint he normally possessed, leaving behind nothing but pure, earnest enthusiasm. He wasn’t trying to play it cool. He wasn’t pretending he wasn’t excited. Every emotion he felt exploded across his face with such wholehearted sincerity that it was almost painfully adorable. You didn’t know whether you wanted to smack him…Or kiss him.

Then you heard it. Thump. The tip of his enormous fluffy tail had started wagging against the arm of the couch. Thump. Thump. The steady rhythm only grew faster the longer he stared at you, completely betraying the excitement bubbling out of him until you couldn’t hold back anymore. A fit of helpless giggles escaped your lips as you watched this giant, broad-shouldered werewolf all but vibrate with happiness over something as simple as you agreeing to dinner. Honestly…He was every bit as much an overgrown puppy as he was a big, bad wolf.

“Yeah!” You laughed, your cheeks burning as you hid your face behind one hand and pinched the bridge of your nose with the other, completely overwhelmed by how unbelievably adorable he looked, “I already said yes!”

Before you could even think about plastering a hand over his face and shoving that giant dork away, he was already moving. With a delighted laugh that burst straight out of his chest, he caught you around the waist and tipped you backward onto the enormous leather couch in one effortless motion, following you down with all the barely restrained excitement of an overgrown puppy that had just been told it was finally going for a walk.

You let out a startled shriek that immediately dissolved into laughter as the cushions swallowed you. Instinct took over before anything else did, and your hands hurried to tug the hem of your dress back down over the glimpse of your thong the sudden movement had exposed. Valko’s broad frame settled between your parted knees as he hovered over you, his weight supported on his arms so he never truly crushed you beneath him despite his impossible size.

The ridiculous man didn’t seem to notice your underwear at all. Or if he did, he gave absolutely no sign of it. Instead, the very first thing he did was bury his face against the side of your neck with a blissful little hum that vibrated warmly against your skin. His happiness seemed to spill out of him without restraint as he nuzzled into you with shameless enthusiasm, rubbing his cheek against yours before peppering your neck with a flurry of eager kisses.

“Oh my God—” You broke into helpless giggles almost immediately.

Every exaggerated kiss landed with an intentionally loud smooching sound that only made you laugh harder, and the ticklish brush of his lips against the sensitive skin of your neck had your shoulders instinctively hunching as you squirmed beneath him. His face was wonderfully warm from the wine, and every affectionate nuzzle chased another burst of laughter out of you while his soft hums of contentment made him sound impossibly pleased just to be this close.

“Val—!”

Another noisy kiss cut you off. You laughed so hard your eyes watered as you pushed weakly at his broad shoulders, making only the most half-hearted attempt to fend him off. He barely moved beneath your hands, happily enduring your token resistance while continuing his relentless assault of ticklish kisses and affectionate nuzzles. The truth was…You weren’t trying very hard to stop him. Not really. You wanted him exactly where he was.

“I’ll cook you the best dinner,” he vowed with such wholehearted sincerity that you couldn’t help laughing again. He punctuated the promise with another affectionate kiss before immediately stealing another, then another, smiling against your skin as he shifted to your other side and tucked himself into the curve of your neck, “I’ll make it so romantic for ya. I’ll…”

His voice trailed away. Not because he couldn’t think of what to say, but because he caught your scent again. You felt the change happen almost instantly. It wasn’t subtle anymore; it never was with him. One moment he was all playful smiles, teasing laughter, and boundless enthusiasm, and the next his entire demeanor softened into something slower, quieter, and infinitely needier. His breathing deepened. He never finished his sentence. Instead, he drew in one impossibly deep breath through his nose, filling his lungs completely with you until his broad chest expanded against a smother of your breasts. The reaction sent goosebumps rippling across your skin. God, it always did.

You never seemed to get used to how quickly he could change. It gave you whiplash every single time, watching him shift from an affectionate, laughing goofball into something far more instinctive, his entire focus narrowing until you felt like the only thing existing in his world. There wasn’t anything performative about it. It was simply the way he was, and that somehow made it even more intoxicating. The worst part was knowing he noticed every tiny response your body gave him. He could hear the subtle hitch in your breathing, feel the quickening rhythm of your pulse where it fluttered beneath your skin, and smell every surge of adrenaline the moment it bloomed inside you. There was no hiding from senses as sharp as his, especially not when he was this close.

“You smell so amazing…” He breathed, his words carried out on another slow inhale that seemed almost greedy in its depth.

A shaky sigh escaped him afterward, feathering warmly across your neck before dissolving into your skin. One of his large hands found yours where it rested against the couch, his fingers slipping effortlessly between your own until they laced together and he brought them above your head. His other hand settled securely around your waist beneath him, giving you a slow, absent squeeze that felt less possessive than grounding, as though simply holding you helped settle the restless instinct building inside him. Without even thinking about it, your free hand rose to the back of his neck. Your fingers disappeared into the soft hair at his nape, gently combing through it as warmth radiated into your palm. He leaned into your touch immediately, another quiet hum of contentment vibrating against your throat before he turned his head just enough to brush another lingering kiss along the side of your neck.

“Your scent gets sweeter when you’re turned on,” he murmured, taking his time as his lips lingered against your skin, breathing you in between every slow kiss as though he couldn’t get enough of you. His voice grew even rougher on the next breath, and you felt the words against your neck almost as much as you heard them, “God…Your pheromones are going fucking wild.”

“…What do I smell like right now?” You asked softly from beneath him, your voice quieter than you’d intended. The room seemed pleasantly hazy from the wine, and for a fleeting moment the ceiling above you almost swayed as you looked up at it. Your hand wandered lazily over the broad slope of his shoulder until it found the thick muscle of one trap, and you couldn’t resist giving it an indulgent squeeze beneath your fingers. It was warm. Incredibly solid. Every inch of him felt built from strength.

“Pure adrenaline,” he murmured without hesitation, his answer arriving on another slow, appreciative inhale.

His face disappeared into the curve of your throat again before he buried himself in your hair, greedily chasing every trace of your scent wherever he could find it. His warm breath feathered over your skin as he spoke, each word quieter than the last.

“Spun sugar…Fire…Something dark and smoky…” He sighed contentedly against you, the sound rumbling through his chest, “…Something I wanna drown in.”

A delicious shiver traveled the length of your spine. His words settled somewhere deep inside you, sending warmth cascading through your body until it pooled low in your stomach. Goosebumps chased one another across your skin beneath the comforting weight of his broad frame, and before you realized what you were doing, your back arched instinctively into him. A quiet sigh escaped your lips as your eyes fluttered closed, your leg slowly lifting to drape comfortably over his hip while your fingers tightened against him. Your nails squeezed around the back of his hand, the others lightly digging into the firm muscle of his trap under your fingertips as though you needed something solid to steady yourself against.

Then you felt it. The unmistakable pressure of his hard cock resting against the inside of your thigh. Even through the fabric of his tailored slacks, you could feel the weight of him there, warm and heavy where it pressed against you. The subtle pulse beneath the fabric betrayed every bit of the growing desire he’d been trying so unsuccessfully to hide, and the realization sent another rush of heat rolling through you.

“You know which part of you gives off the sweetness I’m talking about?” He murmured.

The tip of his tongue traced a slow path up the front of your throat. The unexpected warmth of it stole your breath. You nearly moaned before catching yourself, your fingers instinctively tightening against his shoulder as your head tipped back just enough to give him room.

“…What?” You breathed, your voice barely above a whisper.

When your eyes finally opened again, you found him already looking at you. Not simply looking. Watching. His eyes were fixed on yours with an intensity that made your pulse stumble all over again. The warmth, the teasing affection, and the playful smiles that usually softened his expression had melted into something quieter, deeper, and almost instinctive. For one suspended heartbeat, he regarded you with the kind of focused hunger that made you understand exactly why rabbits froze when wolves looked at them.

God…The realization sent another violent rush of adrenaline surging through you. Shock and desire collided inside your chest so fiercely that your entire body seemed to hum beneath him. Your heart hammered against your ribs, your breathing caught somewhere between anticipation and surrender, and you couldn’t tell whether the dizzy feeling overtaking you came from the wine or from the man looking down at you as though you were the only thing in the world worth wanting. You felt almost intoxicated by him. Almost delirious. Every time he looked at you like that, it was as though the rest of the room disappeared until all that remained was the warmth of his body surrounding yours and those impossible golden eyes holding you completely captive.

His large hand slowly left your waist, gliding upward over your side before traveling along the line of your throat. The warmth of his palm lingered against your skin as his fingers climbed higher, slipping beneath your chin until they settled around your jaw with surprising gentleness. His thumb rested against one cheek while his fingers curved around the other, giving the softest squeeze that rounded your cheeks between them. It wasn’t enough to hurt. It was simply enough to hold your attention exactly where he wanted it.

“Yes you do,” he murmured with unmistakable amusement.

As he spoke, he gently tipped your face one way and then the other, each syllable accompanied by the smallest guiding movement of his hand. His grin spread slowly across his lips, revealing the faint gleam of his canines beneath the warm lighting, and there was something devastatingly unfair about how effortlessly playful and predatory he could look all at once.

God. He was absolutely molten like this. The teasing warmth in his expression hadn’t disappeared, but something deeper had settled beneath it, something instinctive that made it impossible to look away. Your breath caught somewhere in your chest as his eyes remained locked on yours, and every slow second beneath that gaze seemed to stretch impossibly longer than the last. Your heart pounded so hard it felt as though it might bruise your ribs from the inside, while a rush of adrenaline swept through your body with all the intoxicating intensity of a hunted animal refusing to look away from the predator that had already found it. It wasn’t fear. It was something far more dangerous than that. The electric thrill left goosebumps racing over your skin, warmth blooming beneath them until you found yourself trembling beneath his broad frame despite having no desire whatsoever to move.

Before you even realized you were doing it, you smiled back. You watched the subtle movement of his throat as he swallowed, the muscles working beneath his skin with unmistakable deliberateness, and the sight alone sent another rush of heat through you. God…Even that affected you. There was something breathtaking about watching him fight the instinctive reactions he never seemed capable of hiding. He wasn’t embarrassed by them. If anything, the honesty of every tiny response only made the moment feel more real, more intimate, more impossible to resist.

It sent another rush of heat pouring through you until you felt your body betray you completely. Your pussy gave an involuntary little twitch beneath your dress, and the broad line of his hip bone, already resting against you, shifted with the smallest, slowest grind across the damp fabric of your thong. The pressure was almost cruel in how subtle it was, yet it sent a molten wave of pleasure straight through your core. Heat bloomed around your clit so suddenly your breath caught in your throat, your fingers instinctively tightening against the hard muscle of his shoulder as your lips fell open inside the gentle cradle of his hand. For one suspended heartbeat, you couldn’t think of a single clever comeback. All you could do was stare up into those golden eyes, feeling wonderfully, helplessly overwhelmed by the man looking down at you as though you were already his.

“…Your pretty little kitty,” he whispered, his voice dropping into a husky murmur as his gaze slowly drifted from your eyes to your mouth. There was nothing hurried about the way he looked at you. He studied your lips as though they had become the only thing capable of holding his attention, and the slow hunger behind that look alone was enough to send another tremor through your body.

Your breath caught when he leaned closer. Instead of kissing you immediately, the tip of his tongue slowly dragged across your lower lip with an agonizing patience that made your pulse leap. The warm stroke lingered just long enough to make it feel deliberate, almost instructional, as though he was showing you exactly how he’d want to lick you there if you ever let him. It was as if he wanted you to picture it. Wanted you to imagine that same slow, hungry tongue between your legs instead of against your mouth. The thought hit you with startling clarity, and before you could stop yourself, you practically felt the ghost of his tongue gliding over your slit, so vivid in your imagination that your body supplied the sensation for him. Heat bloomed low in your belly, your pussy gave an involuntary little spasm beneath your dress, and your breath caught sharply in your throat as the imagined stroke sent a pulse of pleasure straight through your clit.

He felt it immediately. There was no hiding a reaction like that from senses as sharp as his, especially not when he was pressed so closely against you. A low, thoroughly satisfied moan rumbled deep inside his chest the instant your body betrayed you, and the vibration rolled warmly into your mouth as his lips finally captured yours. The sound carried unmistakable delight, as though your involuntary response had confirmed exactly what he’d hoped it would. Goosebumps raced over your skin while the warmth of his mouth enveloped yours, and every tiny hair along the back of your neck stood on end as you melted into the kiss, your heart pounding beneath the overwhelming intensity of the moment.

Your free hand slipped from where he’d been holding it. Instead of pushing him away, both of your hands climbed to the collar of his dress shirt, your fingers curling tightly into the fabric before you gave him a firm, possessive tug. The movement drew him flush against you, and you answered his kiss with equal urgency, pressing your mouths together until there wasn’t an inch of space left between you.

He met your intensity without hesitation. If anything, he welcomed it. He kissed you with the same wholehearted enthusiasm he seemed to pour into everything he felt, his mouth moving eagerly against yours as though he’d been waiting all night for you to pull him closer instead of pushing him away. The lingering taste of red wine still coated his tongue, rich and warm as it mingled with yours, while the gentle scrape of his canines catching your lower lip made another delicious rush of heat pour through your body. The playful little bites were careful enough never to hurt, yet intoxicating enough that your fists instinctively tightened around his shirt, wrinkling the expensive fabric between your fingers.

Above you both, his enormous tail had found its own way of joining the moment. It slowly curled around the leg you had draped over his waist, wrapping loosely around your calf as though it wanted to hold you there just as securely as the rest of him did. At the same time, one of his large hands slid beneath your thigh and gently encouraged your knee higher against the hard muscle of his back, silently asking for more closeness, more contact, more of you. He always chased intensity that way, never through force, but through an almost desperate desire to eliminate every inch of distance between your bodies.

You could feel the very tip of his tail trembling against your leg. It kept trying to stay still. Trying to behave. Trying to hide just how overwhelmingly happy he was. It failed miserably. The soft, uncontrollable wag betrayed him over and over again where it brushed against your thigh, and you couldn’t help smiling into the kiss as you realized the wine had stripped away what little restraint he normally managed to keep over it.

God…He felt like he was burning from the inside out. Every kiss. Every breath. Every eager little sound he made against your mouth carried a restless warmth that seemed to seep straight into you, melting through your own restraint until it felt as though his excitement had become your own. Wrapped in his arms, surrounded by his scent, and held beneath the overwhelming sincerity of every emotion he wore so openly, you felt yourself slipping deeper beneath the spell of him with every passing heartbeat, as though the heat pouring out of him had become molten enough to settle into your very bones.

Your hands slowly slipped from the collar of his dress shirt to the neatly knotted tie dangling from his neck. Curling your fingers around the silk, you gave it a possessive tug, drawing him down into another lingering kiss while your other hand worked at loosening the knot. It slid free beneath your fingers at last, hanging loosely around his neck for only a moment before he pulled back just enough to tug it the rest of the way off. With a quiet sigh of relief, he tossed it carelessly somewhere across the room without so much as looking where it landed, his attention never truly leaving you.

Your fingertips immediately found the first button of his shirt. Then the second. You fumbled slightly, your wine-softened fingers taking just a little too long to work each button through its hole, and the delay was almost comical considering the way he was kissing you. His breathing had long since lost any resemblance of calm. Warm, uneven breaths escaped him between kisses, and the flush spreading across his cheeks had begun creeping down the strong line of his neck. Every slow inhale seemed to make him hotter instead of cooling him down, and judging by the way his chest rose beneath your hands, the scent of you was only making matters worse. He was impatient. Restless. Wonderfully needy in that utterly transparent way he never seemed capable of hiding, his instincts leaving him visibly flustered as he lingered over you.

It was the only reason he finally broke the kiss. Not to pull away from you. Only to make room. He rose smoothly onto his knees between the wide parting of your thighs, his sheer size demanding the extra height as his broad frame settled over you once more. Standing like that, he seemed to swallow the room. His shoulders eclipsed the warm light overhead until your gaze was filled almost entirely by him, leaving only a soft glow outlining the massive silhouette towering above you.

“Hang on…” He breathed with an embarrassed little laugh that sounded more winded than amused.

His fingers immediately found the remaining buttons of his dress shirt. One after another. Much faster than yours ever could have. He hurried through them with the kind of impatient urgency that made you smile, practically fumbling over himself in his eagerness to get the shirt open. As each button gave way, the fabric loosened farther across his chest, straining for only a heartbeat before falling open to reveal more of the broad, muscular body beneath. The tailored shirt had fit him impeccably when he stood still, yet seeing it gape apart now only reminded you how absurdly wide he really was. It looked almost too small across his chest and shoulders, and the sleeves hugged his powerful arms so closely that you wondered how he’d managed to button the thing in the first place.

Your eyes couldn’t help following every movement. He caught you staring. A slow, pleased smile spread across his flushed face as he looked back down at you, breathing hard enough that the open edges of his shirt shifted with every rise and fall of his chest. There was something almost boyishly proud about the way he watched you watching him, completely aware that your eyes were drinking in every inch of him as he stripped down.

Unable to stand the heat any longer, he yanked the shirt free from where it had been tucked into his belt before rolling his broad shoulders back. The movement stretched every muscle across his chest and back beneath the warm light, and then, with one impatient pull, he shrugged completely out of the shirt and tossed it carelessly behind him. The whole thing happened so quickly it almost made you giggle. He had practically hulked his way out of the damn thing in his desperate hurry to get it off his overheating body.

“Stop me if it’s ever too much,” he said quietly.

He always said it. Every single time things began slipping from playful teasing into something more intimate, he reminded you of the same rule without fail. It had become as much a part of the two of you as the flirting and the banter. He wanted you to stop him before he ever pushed too far, before instinct or impatience could ever overtake your comfort. He wanted to know that if he crossed a line, you would tell him, and he would stop without hesitation. No matter how desperately he wanted you, no matter how badly his body begged for more, that promise never changed.

You met his eyes and nodded, “I will.”

His shoulders relaxed almost imperceptibly at your answer, and only then did your gaze begin wandering again. It drifted slowly over every broad, sculpted plane of his bare torso, drinking him in without even trying to hide it. The warm light of the private room traced every hard line of muscle across his chest and abdomen, accentuating the powerful taper of his waist before your eyes continued lower still. Your smile grew softer, breathier, as you followed the sharp V of his pelvic lines disappearing beneath the waistband of his pants.

Then your attention stopped altogether. Oh, God. Your eyes practically glued themselves to the unmistakable bulge straining against the front of his slacks. The outline of his cock rested heavily along the inside of one powerful thigh, impossible to ignore and somehow even more distracting because it wasn’t trying to be. It looked almost obscene beneath the tailored fabric, the weight of him obvious even while still confined behind expensive trousers. Obscene…And devastatingly attractive.

“So…” His voice pulled your attention back upward, though only barely, “see something you like?”

The shameless bastard actually reached down and casually palmed himself over his slacks, giving the heavy outline the smallest, teasing shake beneath his hand while watching your expression with undisguised amusement. You stared at him. The delicious bastard. You ought to smack him. Instead, another idea found you. Without breaking eye contact, you slipped one of your high heels free and let it tumble softly onto the carpet beside the couch. Stretching your now bare foot toward him, you slowly rested the arch of it against the prominent bulge between his thighs.

The reaction was immediate. His brows drew together as a slow breath escaped him, and those brilliant golden eyes lifted back to yours with unmistakable heat gathering behind them. The playful smile never quite disappeared, but it softened beneath something far hungrier as he watched you press experimentally against him. His large hand rose to your ankle before sliding gently over the top of your bare foot. His palm was wonderfully warm as it wrapped around it, and instead of moving you away, he guided your foot a little more firmly against himself. The subtle pressure drew another uneven breath from him, his fingers tightening ever so slightly over your foot as he leaned into the sensation with a quiet, thoroughly pleased sigh. The sight of it made another burst of giggles bubble out of you.

“Yeah, I do,” you teased, biting gently over your lower lip as a mischievous little giggle escaped you. You slowly flexed your bare foot against the heavy outline trapped beneath his slacks, letting your toes lazily wiggle over him just to see what would happen. The reaction was immediate. A visible shudder rippled through his entire body before his eyes fluttered for the briefest moment, and the uneven breath that left him made your grin widen, “do you?”

Still watching him, you slowly let your knees drift farther apart. The hem of your little black dress rode higher over your thighs with the movement, revealing more of your legs until the thin strip of fabric covering your pussy came fully into view. You didn’t say a word. You simply watched him watch you, reveling in the slow, unmistakable smile that spread across his face the instant his eyes settled between your legs.

“God…Yes,” he admitted without even attempting to hide it.

His honesty never failed to catch you off guard. Without looking away from you, he reached for your other foot, his large hand wrapping easily around your ankle as he carefully slipped your remaining heel free. The shoe landed somewhere beside the couch with a quiet thud, forgotten the moment it left his hand. His attention never wavered from you as both of his hands slid lower, settling comfortably around your calves. His broad palms practically engulfed them, warm and reassuring as they held you with effortless ease.

“Nice spot,” he murmured with an unmistakably pleased smile, “looks cute.”

You blinked, “what—”

Following his gaze, you lifted your head just enough to see what he meant. Then your cheeks immediately flared with heat. A small, unmistakable patch of dampness had darkened the narrow center of your thong, visible even beneath the thin fabric stretched between your thighs. The realization hit you all at once, and you heard the quiet, thoroughly entertained chuckle that rumbled out of him just as a startled little gasp escaped your own lips. Embarrassment rushed through you, warming your face as you instinctively thought about pulling your dress back down.

You never got the chance. Before you could move, Valko’s hands tightened gently around your calves and, with effortless strength, he lifted both of your legs upward. The motion tipped you smoothly back against the couch cushions, your back sinking into the soft leather as he drew you several inches closer to him. Your breath caught in surprise as your hips slid toward him beneath his guidance, his broad frame naturally filling the space between your parted thighs once again.

That deliciously needy pervert. The eager look in his eyes, the way his breathing had grown warmer, the unmistakable excitement written all over his face…It would have been so easy to simply let him have his way. But just as quickly as the thought crossed your mind, another one replaced it. You remembered. You remembered how absurdly easy it was to turn the tables on Valko whenever you wanted to. Beneath all that height, strength, confidence, and shameless flirting was a man who absolutely melted whenever you took control for even a moment. It was exhilarating watching someone so impossibly powerful look at you with that same eager, hopeful expression every time you challenged him. There was something undeniably intoxicating about knowing you could wrap that enormous werewolf around your finger with little more than a look, a smile, or a well-timed command, and he’d follow along with all the enthusiasm of an obedient puppy hoping to earn praise.

The realization stirred something inside you. Not just curiosity. Not just desire. Something deeper. Somewhere over the course of the evening, another wall you’d been clinging to had quietly fallen away. The playful teasing still remained, but beneath it lived something far more genuine now. The feelings between you were no longer guesses or carefully avoided possibilities. They had been spoken aloud. A real date waited for the two of you tomorrow night. The uncertainty that had kept you holding him at arm’s length for so long had begun giving way to trust, and with it came a newfound boldness that made your pulse race. You weren’t just curious anymore. You were beginning to crave seeing exactly how far that vulnerable, wonderfully devoted side of Valko would let you push him.

“What, this little thing?” You asked with exaggerated innocence, your voice dripping with playful sweetness as though you had no idea what had captured his attention so completely.

You absolutely did. Keeping your eyes locked on his, you slowly let your hand wander down the length of your body. Your fingertips skimmed over the curve of your waist before gliding lower across your stomach until they finally reached the unmistakable patch of dampness between your thighs. You watched him watch you, and the reaction was instantaneous. His eyes widened ever so slightly before they followed every inch of your movement with unwavering focus, tracking your hand as faithfully as though your fingertips were leading him toward the only thing in the world he wanted.

You caught the subtle sway of his tail again. It gave a slow, unconscious wag behind him, the fluffy tip brushing against the floor before stilling for all of half a second. Then it wagged again. The sight made your pulse leap. His pupils visibly expanded the moment your fingers settled over your pussy, the brilliant gold of his irises shrinking beneath the growing darkness until his gaze looked almost molten with anticipation.

“Oh, shit…” You laughed softly to yourself.

The sensation surprised even you. Your fingertips came away damp enough that you instinctively rubbed them together before letting them drift back over the thin strip of fabric covering your pussy. The delicate material clung immediately beneath the moisture, molding itself more tightly to every soft contour between your thighs. As your fingers slowly stroked over yourself through the fabric, it outlined the shape of your lips with startling clarity, and you watched the way his eyes devoured every tiny movement as though he couldn’t physically look anywhere else.

“I’m soaking wet,” you murmured with another breathless little laugh, shaking your head almost in disbelief, “wow…”

His entire body answered you before his voice ever could. You saw his throat work in one slow swallow. You saw the muscles flex along his jaw. You saw his broad hands tighten around your thighs, his fingers unconsciously digging into the softness above your knees as though holding himself in place required genuine effort. The restraint written across his face was almost tangible. Every instinct inside him seemed to be pulling him forward, urging him to bury himself between your legs, and yet he stayed exactly where he was, waiting despite the obvious struggle painted across his expression. The realization sent another rush of heat pouring through you. Without thinking, your voice came out firmer than you’d intended.

“Sit,” the single word left your lips with quiet authority.

He obeyed immediately. Almost before the sound had finished reaching him, he lowered himself onto his calves between your spread thighs, his broad shoulders settling lower. The movement was so immediate, so instinctive, that it almost looked as though his body had responded before his mind ever had. He didn’t question you. He didn’t hesitate. He simply did exactly as you’d asked.

The sight stole your breath. Good Lord…Watching someone so impossibly powerful become so effortlessly obedient for you sent a delicious thrill racing straight through your body. It made something deep inside you ache with a hunger you hadn’t expected, your pulse quickening as warmth unfurled low in your belly. Your fingers lingered where they rested against the damp fabric between your thighs, and the awareness of his eyes fixed so intently on every tiny movement made the sensation bloom into something almost dizzying. The excitement coursing through you became wonderfully electric, spreading through every nerve until you found yourself smiling up at him, utterly captivated by the breathtaking contrast between the formidable werewolf everyone else saw and the devoted, eager man kneeling so willingly between your legs.

“Good boy,” you tested with a pleased little smile.

The words rolled off your tongue almost experimentally, as though you were curious what they would do to him. You found out immediately. Scooting closer, you slowly spread your thighs wider until they comfortably draped over his lap, your dress gathering higher over your hips as you settled yourself directly in front of him. The movement drew him naturally closer to where your hand still lazily stroked over the damp fabric between your legs, and his breathing immediately turned uneven again.

Then you heard it. Thump. Thump. Thump. Your eyes flicked past his shoulder, and the sight waiting there nearly made you burst into laughter. His enormous tail was wagging so enthusiastically it was actually smacking against the back of the couch, the fluffy thing swishing back and forth with absolutely no restraint. A laugh escaped you before you could stop it. The rush of adrenaline that shot through you at the sight was almost intoxicating. Your heart hammered against your ribs as you looked up at him, and the exhilaration bubbling inside you made your pulse race even faster. You were having entirely too much fun watching this impossibly powerful man unravel so completely beneath your attention.

“You’re salivating,” you pointed out, unable to hide the amusement dancing in your voice.

Your eyes drifted down to his mouth just in time to watch his throat work through another slow swallow. His tongue slipped out almost absentmindedly, moistening his lips before disappearing again, and the movement only confirmed what you’d already noticed.

“Is it my scent doing that to you?” You asked.

He nodded. Just…Nodded. He looked almost helpless beneath the weight of it, his eyes never once leaving your pussy as your fingers continued their slow, absent circles over the damp fabric. It was as though every instinct inside him had narrowed his entire world down to that single point, leaving him visibly torn between patience and overwhelming need.

“Aww…” You cooed, your smile growing impossibly smug.

You watched him draw in one deep breath, clearly trying to steady himself. It didn’t help. If anything, inhaling you only made matters worse. His broad chest expanded completely before the breath left him in a slow, shaky exhale, and you watched the subtle twitch that ran through him afterward. Even his head gave the smallest shake from side to side, almost as though he were physically trying to clear his thoughts, trying to wrestle his instincts back under control. He was losing. Badly.

“What are you thinking about right now, hmm?” You asked sweetly, tilting your head as your fingertips continued their lazy teasing, “what’s going through that little noggin of yours?”

A breathless laugh finally escaped him. He shook his head again before pinching the crooked bridge of his nose between his fingers, his eyes squeezing shut for a brief second as though he couldn’t even bear to look at you anymore.

“God, woman…” He muttered through an incredulous laugh, “you’re evil.”

You immediately huffed in mock offense. Without missing a beat, you nudged the side of his elbow with your knee, bullying the poor man for his attention until he reluctantly looked back at you.

“Hey,” you scolded, “I didn’t say you could look away.”

Another groan escaped him. This time, he obeyed. His eyes lifted right back to you, only to become hopelessly trapped all over again as they settled on the slow movements of your hand between your thighs. He looked utterly conflicted, caught somewhere between restraint and surrender, between misery and overwhelming want. The tension in his face was almost palpable, every muscle tightening beneath flushed skin as he struggled to keep himself exactly where you’d told him to stay.

Watching him fight himself was almost as intoxicating as watching him lose. You noticed his right hand twitch toward his crotch before he seemed to catch himself. His fingers curled halfway, hovering for the briefest moment as though instinct wanted him to reach for himself, to seek any kind of relief from the aching tension building inside him. Instead, with obvious effort, he stopped the motion halfway and clenched his hand into a tight fist against his thigh. The muscles in his forearm flexed beneath the strain, his knuckles whitening as he resisted the urge. It was a battle he was very clearly losing.

“Why’re you torturing me like this?” He breathed, the words leaving him on an uneven exhale as though he were physically wrestling with the heat building beneath his skin. A sheen of sweat had begun to gather across his brow despite the cool room, and he dragged the back of his hand over his forehead with a weary sigh, looking utterly undone by you.

“…Because it’s fun,” you admitted with an unapologetic smile, the answer slipping out far more honestly than you’d intended. You watched his expression soften into resigned disbelief before continuing, your voice quieter this time, “and…Because I wanna see how far I can push you. I wanna see how obedient you are.”

He closed his eyes for a brief moment and let out another long sigh through his nose, the corners of his mouth twitching upward despite himself. It wasn’t defeat so much as acceptance. He already knew he was hopelessly outmatched the moment you’d decided to take control. There wasn’t a stubborn bone left in his body that wanted to fight you anymore. He knew he didn’t have the strength to turn away from you. He knew every instinct inside him had narrowed its entire world down to the woman lying in front of him.

Watching him surrender to that realization stirred something warm inside your own chest. The more you saw this side of Valko, the less you wanted to keep him waiting forever. Not because you pitied him. Because you wanted him. Because every helpless glance, every shaky breath, every involuntary wag of that enormous tail made you ache with the growing desire to reward him. Or perhaps…To indulge yourself just as much.

“Maybe if you’re good for me…” You murmured. Your hand slipped slowly beneath the elastic waistband of your thong, the delicate fabric stretching beneath your fingers before giving way. The first brush of your fingertips against your pussy drew a quiet shudder through your body, and your breath caught as you found your clit already slick with the warm evidence of just how thoroughly he’d worked you up. Your fingers moved slowly, collecting the slippery heat that had gathered there before circling gently over the sensitive little bundle, and the sensation sent a delicious pulse of pleasure radiating low through your belly, “…I’ll let you have a treat.”

He looked absolutely tortured. The flush that had crept across his cheeks now spread down the strong line of his neck and over the broad expanse of his chest. Beads of sweat glimmered beneath the warm light, tracing slow paths over hard muscle and disappearing into the sharp definition of his torso. Every deep inhale expanded his chest before escaping in another shaky breath, and he scrubbed a hand roughly over his face as though he were desperately trying to collect what little self-control remained. His other hand had already found your inner thigh, his broad palm wrapping around it with surprising care. Part of him seemed to be grounding himself through your touch, while the rest of him simply couldn’t resist needing a little more of you beneath his hand. His fingers kneaded absently into the soft warmth of your thigh, tightening every now and then whenever your own hand moved between your legs.

He was a complete mess. A huge, hungry wolf sitting obediently between your thighs while the meal he’d been craving all week teased him mercilessly only inches away. His eyes never left the slow movements of your hand, watching every tiny circle you drew over your pussy with a hunger so intense it almost made your own pulse race faster. The outline straining against the front of his slacks had become almost impossible to ignore by then, the heavy shape pressing insistently against the expensive fabric as though even his trousers were beginning to lose the battle of containing him.

“Define being good,” he said hoarsely, his fingers kneading a little higher along your inner thigh until the warmth of his hand settled dangerously close to where you wanted him most. His breathing had grown ragged enough that every word sounded strained with effort, “cause I’m about five seconds away from ripping your fucking underwear off and—”

“—Stay.”

You didn’t raise your voice. You didn’t need to. The single word left your lips with a calm certainty that somehow carried even more authority than shouting ever could. The effect was instantaneous. He froze. His broad shoulders had already begun lowering toward you, his body leaning forward almost entirely on instinct, yet the moment your command reached him, every muscle locked in place. He remained suspended there between your thighs, breathing hard, his entire body visibly straining against the urge to keep moving while those molten golden eyes lifted back to yours.

The sight sent another rush of exhilaration straight through you. A delighted laugh bubbled out before you could stop it. Without breaking eye contact, you slowly eased your middle and ring finger deeper beneath your thong and guided them into the tight, velvety heat of your pussy. Your walls welcomed them with a slick warmth that made your own breath hitch as your fingers disappeared knuckle by knuckle, and you watched every tiny change in his expression as though it were the most fascinating thing you’d ever seen. His throat worked through another helpless swallow. His jaw tightened. His pupils swallowed almost every trace of gold in his irises until all that remained was an impossibly hungry stare fixed completely on you.

“Good boy…” You praised softly, smiling as another tiny tremor passed through him, “I think you deserve a little treat for being such an obedient, helpless puppy.”

You watched his wolf ears spring upright the instant the praise left your lips, the subtle twitch making your heart leap with wicked satisfaction. A smile tugged at the corners of your mouth as you slowly pushed yourself up onto one forearm, never taking your eyes off him for even a second. The fingers you’d slipped beneath your thong emerged unhurriedly, glistening beneath the warm lights of the private room. Thick, glossy trails of your arousal stretched in delicate strands between your middle and ring finger as you slowly spread them apart, the sticky web catching the light before thinning with every tiny movement. You couldn’t help smiling at the sight yourself.

“Come here, boy,” you whispered.

Your slick fingers curled toward yourself in a slow beckoning motion, inviting him closer with shameless curiosity as your pulse thundered beneath your skin. Valko didn’t hesitate. Not for a heartbeat. He folded over you so quickly it almost made you laugh, his broad body eclipsing the light once again as both of his large hands found your arm. One wrapped securely around your wrist while the other cradled your forearm with surprising gentleness, anchoring you as though he couldn’t bear the thought of letting you slip away. Then, with absolutely no embarrassment, no self-consciousness, and no attempt whatsoever to play it cool, he drew your fingers straight into his mouth.

It wasn’t theatrical. It wasn’t something he was doing to impress you. It was instinct. Pure, wholehearted instinct. You watched every emotion wash openly across his face as his thick brows slowly pulled together and his eyelids fluttered shut. A quiet, blissful sound escaped somewhere deep in his throat while the warmth of his mouth enveloped your fingers, and you felt his tongue slowly glide between them with patient, unmistakable reverence. Every slow pass lingered, gathering every trace of your slickness with an intensity that made your stomach tighten. He tasted you as though nothing else in the world existed, completely lost in the moment, his breathing deepening around your fingers while another low hum vibrated warmly against your skin.

The sight sent a rush of exhilaration crashing through you. A giggle burst out before you could stop it. It bubbled helplessly from your chest, bright and breathless, as a delicious thrill raced from your fingertips all the way down through your molten core. Adrenaline flooded every nerve ending until your entire body seemed to hum beneath him. You squirmed against the couch cushions, practically kicking your feet in delighted excitement as your toes curled so tightly they threatened to cramp. The sensation of his tongue swirling around your fingers, the warm suction of his mouth, and the utterly blissed expression written across his face combined into something so intoxicating that your thoughts dissolved into little more than laughter and heat.

You felt wonderfully lightheaded. Wonderfully reckless. High on him. His fingers had begun trembling around your arm. You felt his long fingers trembling where they wrapped around your wrist and forearm, the grip tightening by slow, involuntary degrees until it almost felt as though he were clutching a favorite toy he’d finally been given permission to keep. The contrast made your pulse race. This enormous, broad-shouldered werewolf could have overpowered you without effort if he’d ever wanted to, yet here he was, holding your arm with a reverence that only made the hunger written across his face even more devastating. At the same time, there was still something unmistakably wolfish about it. The way his hands engulfed your arm made you feel wonderfully small, wonderfully delicate, like a little plaything caught between the careful paws of a great predator trying with every ounce of restraint not to break what he cherished.

It was so fucking hot. Every slow pass of his tongue between your fingers, every bliss-drunk hum vibrating against your skin, every greedy little swallow as he savored the taste of you sent another wave of molten heat crashing through your body. Your fingertips tingled inside the warm heat of his mouth, your stomach burned with anticipation, and your pussy ached so fiercely it almost hurt. Watching him lose himself in you like this, watching that beautiful, hungry wolf come apart over something as simple as your taste, snapped the last thread of restraint you’d been clinging to. You couldn’t take it anymore. You didn’t want to tease him forever. You wanted to let him finally fucking devour you whole.

The thought sent another pulse of heat straight through your core. You wanted to be his meal. You wanted to watch those gorgeous golden eyes roll back with bliss while he feasted on you without shame, to feel every hungry kiss, every greedy lick, every desperate little sound of satisfaction he couldn’t hide. You wanted him to savor you until he forgot where he ended and you began, and you wanted to lose yourself right alongside him, getting off on every shameless smooch he stole, every blissful swallow, every drop he greedily refused to waste.

“God, look at you…” You murmured through another helpless little laugh, unable to stop smiling at the breathtaking sight in front of you. His eyes betrayed him over and over again, darting helplessly from your face back down to the damp strip of fabric covering your pussy as though they were being pulled there against his will. Even with your fingers still nestled inside the warm heat of his mouth, slowly stroking over the slick glide of his tongue, he couldn’t stop looking between your legs. The pleasant scrape of his fangs brushed your skin every now and then as he struggled not to bite down, not out of aggression, but because the hunger written all over his face had become almost impossible for him to contain, “you’re driving me crazy as we speak. You’re dying to eat my pussy, aren’t you?”

He answered before he even thought about preserving his pride. Still suckling your fingers, he nodded shamelessly. Once. Then again. Harder. A hot sigh escaped around your fingers, feathering warmly over your knuckles as his eyes remained hopelessly fixed on the soaked little strip of fabric between your thighs. He looked completely overtaken by instinct, like every sense he possessed had narrowed into a single unbearable point of focus. The longing in his expression was almost painful to witness. He looked exactly like a starving wolf being forced to sit patiently in front of a meal he could already smell, already taste in his imagination, while every instinct inside him screamed to lunge forward and devour it.

Slowly, you eased your fingers from his mouth. He followed them. The movement was completely unconscious, his lips chasing after your fingertips by another inch before he caught himself, blinking as though he’d only just realized what he’d done. A delighted laugh escaped you as you lifted your hand to inspect it. Every trace of your slickness had disappeared. Your fingers gleamed only with the lingering shine of his mouth, every sticky trail of your arousal having been licked and sucked away with shameless enthusiasm until he hadn’t left a single drop behind. You were just as enthralled by him as he was by you.

His hands settled against your inner thighs again, spreading wide until his palms nearly engulfed them. Warm fingers slowly kneaded into your soft flesh, absentmindedly working over your thighs as though they needed something to do before they disobeyed him. The restless squeezing wasn’t simply affection. It was restraint. You watched the tendons shift beneath the skin of his forearms as his grip tightened and loosened in slow cycles, channeling every ounce of the overwhelming hunger consuming him into your thighs instead of where he truly wanted to be. He looked like he was fighting with every fiber of his being not to bury himself between your legs, not to nose-dive straight into the meal he’d been staring at all night. Every breath he took seemed to make that fight harder, every inhale of your scent pulling him closer to the edge. The realization sent another delicious rush of heat low through your body.

You smiled up at his beautifully ruined expression, “beg—”

“—Please,” the word burst out of him so quickly he barely let you finish.

His voice had gone hoarse, rough with need as another uneven breath escaped him. His fingers kneaded helplessly into your thighs again, grounding himself through the warmth of your body before he lost what little control he still possessed.

“I can’t take it anymore. I’ll do whatever you want, Y/n,” his throat worked through another swallow as his pleading eyes searched yours with heartbreaking sincerity, “just let me eat it already…Hell, I’d be happy with one lick.”

Your heart fluttered. Not from victory.

From the beautiful honesty shining back at you.

“Oh…” You whispered, your smile softening despite the exhilaration racing through your veins, “I believe you.”

Your hand slid over the top of one of his, your fingers wrapping affectionately around his thick wrist before giving it a gentle squeeze. Beneath your palm, you could feel the subtle tremor still running through him, his body humming with restrained anticipation. Your other hand drifted back between your thighs, and you slowly hooked a finger beneath the damp waistband of your thong. The elastic stretched lightly beneath your touch as your pulse quickened, your eyes lifting to meet his once more.

You wanted him there. You wanted that handsome, beautifully ruined face exactly where he’d been trying so desperately not to dive all night. You wanted to reward him. You wanted to indulge yourself just as much as you wanted to indulge him. You swallowed slowly. His throat bobbed in answer. The pleading look in his eyes made your chest tighten.

“Have I ever shown it to you before?” You asked softly.

He shook his head without hesitation, “no.”

Your smile widened, “…Wanna see it?”

He nodded so quickly that his wolf ears twitched with the movement, “fuck yes.”

Slowly, almost torturously, you hooked your finger beneath the narrow strip of damp fabric and eased it to the side. The elastic stretched against your hip before finally giving way, baring your pussy to him for the very first time. You never looked down. You looked at him instead. God. The expression that washed over his face nearly stole the air from your lungs.

His golden eyes widened only a fraction before they settled between your legs with complete, unwavering focus. He didn’t simply look. He stared as though every instinct inside him had fallen silent except one. His gaze roamed over every intimate curve with open awe, reverence, and a hunger so honest it made your pulse thunder. The intensity of it settled over your skin like another pair of hands, and your body answered before your mind ever could. Heat bloomed violently between your thighs, your pussy giving an involuntary little twitch beneath the weight of his stare as he drank in the sight of you without shame.

You felt his thumb dig deeper into your inner thigh. His hand was trembling. Not subtly. The broad hand wrapped around your leg shook with the effort it took to keep himself exactly where you’d told him to stay, and your own fingers instinctively tightened around his thick wrist in an affectionate squeeze. Beneath your touch, you could feel the tension coiled through every tendon and muscle in his forearm, his entire body straining against instincts that wanted nothing more than to bury him between your legs. He drew one long, shaky breath before giving that familiar little twitch of his head again, shaking it sharply to one side as though he were trying to knock the thoughts loose from his own skull. It almost looked like he was a heartbeat away from smacking himself across the face just to regain an ounce of composure. The sight made your heart race.

“You’re being so good,” you praised softly, your voice warming with genuine affection as you gently tugged him another inch closer by his arm, “donyou think it’s pretty?”

His eyes reluctantly climbed back to yours for the briefest moment before they helplessly fell right back where they wanted to be. Both of his hands slid from your thighs to your hips, spreading so wide they nearly wrapped around you. His grip tightened almost unconsciously while one broad thumb slipped beneath the delicate strap still resting against your hip. With agonizing slowness, he drew it farther aside, exposing you even more completely beneath the warm glow of the private room. The lights caught every glistening detail you had laid bare for him, and he looked at you as though he couldn’t believe you were real.

“It’s gorgeous,” he breathed, his voice rough and unsteady with need. When he finally forced his eyes back up to yours, they were openly pleading, “Y/n…Please…”

The desperation in that single word broke something inside you. The teasing had stopped being enough. Watching him unravel had been intoxicating, but now it only made the ache between your thighs heavier, hotter, more impossible to ignore. Your pussy throbbed with every frantic beat of your heart, slick enough that you could feel the warmth of your own arousal against your skin, and all you could think about was the starving wolf kneeling between your legs. Every hungry glance he’d stolen, every helpless swallow, every tremble in those enormous hands, every wag of that ridiculous tail had fed your own desire until you weren’t sure who was more desperate anymore. You wanted him. You wanted that handsome, beautifully ruined face buried between your thighs. You wanted to feel him finally stop fighting himself. You wanted him to devour you.

You pushed yourself up onto one forearm and reached for him, your fingers disappearing into the thick hair at the crown of his head before curling firmly into it, “c’mere, then.”

The invitation came out in a breath that sounded almost as needy as his. You fisted his hair and firmly guided him down while easing yourself back against the couch cushions, lifting your hips instinctively toward him as though your body had already made the decision before your mind had caught up.

“Eat up—”

He didn’t let you finish. The instant the words left your lips, both of his hands shot straight for your thong. His fingers hooked beneath the delicate waistband with unmistakable urgency, and every powerful muscle across his shoulders, chest, and forearms flexed as the last thread of his restraint finally snapped. Before you even had time to gasp, you heard the sharp crack of fabric giving way beneath his strength.

Your underwear never stood a chance. Neither, you realized with your pulse roaring in your ears, did you. Before your mind could even catch up to how fast he moved, his enormous arms swept beneath your thighs and wrapped securely around them from underneath. The strength behind the motion stole the breath clean out of your lungs. One moment you were lying against the leather couch, and the next the entire world lurched as he effortlessly lifted you. A startled gasp burst from your lips as your stomach flipped with the sudden change in gravity, your body leaving the cushions so completely that even your head no longer touched the couch.

Everything happened so fast your thoughts couldn’t keep pace. Your hands flew instinctively in search of something, anything, to steady yourself, but Valko was simply too big. Too broad. Too impossibly strong. He hoisted you as though you weighed nothing at all, your body dangling helplessly against the towering frame of his as your calves slipped naturally behind his shoulders. His powerful arms tightened around your waist, locking you securely against him, the firm squeeze of his embrace making it abundantly clear that there wasn’t the slightest chance of you slipping from his grasp.

Then…You felt him. The first slow, deliberate stroke of his tongue parted your slick folds from bottom to top with agonizing thoroughness, the broad warmth of it gliding through your soaked pussy before finishing in one greedy, lingering flick over your swollen clit. He didn’t rush it. He savored it, dragging every inch of the taste he’d been craving all evening onto his tongue with the unmistakable hunger of a man finally allowed his first bite.

The sensation detonated inside you. Your entire body jerked violently in his arms as white-hot pleasure crashed through your core, so sudden and overwhelming that a helpless cry tore from your throat before you could even think to silence it. Every muscle in your body seemed to seize at once as your nails desperately searched for purchase, finally digging deep into the hard muscle of his forearms. You clung to him instinctively, your fingers tightening as the world tilted around you beneath the sheer force of the pleasure he’d pulled from you with a single, devastating lick.

Your thighs reacted before your mind ever could. They snapped inward around the sides of his head, squeezing him tightly as another shudder ripped through you. The warmth of his face, the rough scrape of his tongue, the steady strength of the arms holding you effortlessly aloft, and the low, blissful sound rumbling from deep within his chest blurred together into one intoxicating rush that left your pulse roaring in your ears.

“Tighter,” he growled, the command vibrating straight into your pussy as the scorching heat of his breath and the wet, hungry pull of his mouth engulfed you. Every shameless squelch echoed obscenely through the room as he sucked a greedy mouthful of your slick cunt between his lips, drawing another helpless cry out of you before his tongue flattened beneath your clit and pulled at it with a starvation so utterly carnal your vision tunneled around the edges. The pleasure crashed through you all at once, too much and not nearly enough, making your entire body jolt in his arms as another guttural groan rumbled against you, “squeeze me tighter…Tighter.”

You obeyed before your mind even registered the words. Thought had abandoned you completely, melting into useless, bliss-drunk mush somewhere between the first lick and the tenth. Your ankles crossed behind his broad back, your thighs locking around the sides of his head as you squeezed with everything you had. The pressure earned exactly the reaction you wanted. A deep, broken groan poured out of him, vibrating deliciously through your soaked pussy as though he loved being trapped there just as much as you loved trapping him. Instead of pulling away, he buried himself even deeper, taking another ravenous mouthful of you with an enthusiasm that bordered on feral. His tongue flicked desperately over your clit before sucking it back between his lips again, greedy and shameless, drinking in every little sound you made as though each moan only made him hungrier.

“O-oh my God…” You stammered, your voice dissolving into breathless whimpers as your eyes rolled helplessly back before fluttering shut.

Your brows pinched so tightly they almost ached while your head fell farther behind you, exposing your throat as blood rushed downward until your entire face burned. Your lips trembled uncontrollably before your jaw dropped open around another cry. Thinking had become impossible. Speaking wasn’t much easier. All you could do was feel. Feel every glorious flick of his tongue, every filthy slurp, every greedy suck, every rumbling growl vibrating against your pussy until the sensations shot straight up your spine. Your skin prickled from head to toe, every tiny hair standing on end beneath the relentless pleasure pouring through you.

“Oh God…Oh—! F-fuck!” You cried, your voice breaking apart, “that’s ncredible! V-Val…Don’t—! Don’t stop! Don’t stop!”

As if he ever would. There wasn’t the slightest hint of strain in the enormous arms holding you aloft. He kept you suspended effortlessly, your entire body dangling against the towering heat of him while his forearms locked around your waist like iron bars. His broad hands stayed planted deep into the soft meat of your thighs, gripping you with possessive strength that made it abundantly clear he had no intention whatsoever of letting his meal escape now that he’d finally been given permission to feast. You were completely trapped against his hard, overheated body, pinned there by nothing but raw strength and overwhelming devotion while the feverish heat of his face stayed buried between your legs. His tongue slapped relentlessly against your clit with hungry, rhythmic determination, each wet stroke landing harder than the last until your entire body shook like a leaf in a storm.

Pressure mounted so quickly your eyes watered. Your head spun violently. Your fingers clawed helplessly down his forearms, nails scraping over hard muscle as you searched desperately for something to hold onto while your body came apart in his grasp. Your toes curled painfully tight, your calves trembled, and your thighs squeezed his head with enough force that you could actually feel the violent quiver of your muscles vibrating against his skull. Instead of trying to free himself, he groaned into your pussy again, almost drunkenly delighted by the crushing pressure around his head as he lapped at you even harder.

Every broad sweep of his wet tongue slapped over your swollen clit before disappearing between the slick squish of your lips, and every filthy, eager slurp made another helpless moan tumble out of your mouth. You couldn’t stop the needy little whines or the desperate mewls spilling from your lips as wave after wave of blistering heat surged through your pussy before racing up your spine like liquid lightning. Your fingers cramped. Your toes balled so tightly they hurt. Every muscle in your body drew taut beneath the relentlessly mounting weight of pleasure until you felt stretched to the absolute brink of shattering.

You never stood a chance. Your orgasm was climbing at a terrifying speed, building hotter and tighter with every greedy lick, every shameless suck, every bliss-drunk growl he buried into your pussy as he messily devoured you like the starving wolf he’d been trying so hard not to become all night. And God…The most intoxicating part of it all was knowing this beautiful, desperately hungry man was finally getting exactly what he’d been begging you for, feasting on you with the kind of wholehearted, ravenous joy that made your own pleasure burn even hotter.

You honestly didn’t know how much more of Valko you could possibly take. Every greedy lick, every filthy slurp, every bliss-drunk growl vibrating straight into your pussy poured another wave of unbearable pleasure through your body until you could no longer tell where one sensation ended and the next began. Heat gathered low inside your belly, molten and heavy, tightening into an impossibly taut coil beneath your navel with every relentless sweep of his tongue. It grew hotter and tighter by the second, winding itself into something that felt almost alive inside you, and you knew with absolute certainty that if he didn’t stop, which he clearly had no intention of doing, you were going to explode.

You should have kept your eyes shut. You should have surrendered completely to the pleasure and let it carry you wherever it wanted. Instead, driven by a reckless, greedy curiosity that refused to leave you alone, you forced yourself to look at him. Your entire body trembled with the effort as you struggled to bend your neck enough to find him, your thighs still locked tightly around the sides of his head while your nails remained buried in the hard muscle of his forearms. Your vision blurred beneath the pressure building behind your eyes, but you kept searching until you finally found him.

And then…Oh God. Oh, God. The moment your eyes met his, every coherent thought was obliterated. He was already looking at you. Those brilliant golden eyes were lifted from between your thighs, watching your face while his mouth stayed buried in your pussy, and the intensity behind that stare hit you harder than anything his tongue had done all night. It wasn’t simply hunger anymore. It was possession. It was instinct. It was the raw, unguarded expression of a starving predator finally sinking into the meal he’d spent too long aching for, and somehow he still couldn’t stop looking at you while he feasted.

His pupils had swallowed almost every trace of gold until his eyes looked dark and wild beneath the warm lights of the room. Sweat rolled slowly down the sharp ridge of his prominent brow bone, traced the hard angle of his cheekbone, and disappeared into the flush covering his face while his jaw worked between your thighs with greedy determination. His expression was completely ruined by bliss, yet there was nothing careless about the way he watched you. He looked at you like you were everything. His prey. His prize. His reward. His food. Every filthy, ravenous sound he made against your pussy only made that realization sink deeper into your bones, and the overwhelming intensity pouring off him hit you with such force that it felt as though someone had struck you with lightning.

A broken sob escaped your lips before you even realized you were crying. Your head rolled helplessly backward as your spine arched so violently it cracked beneath the strain, and the white-hot coil burning inside your belly finally snapped. It didn’t unravel. It detonated. Pleasure ripped through your body with catastrophic force, crashing over you in wave after wave until you couldn’t tell where your body ended and the orgasm began.

“I’m cumming!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, the words tearing themselves from your throat without the slightest trace of restraint.

Your entire body convulsed inside the iron lock of his arms, every muscle seizing at once while violent tremors tore through you from head to toe. Your hands shook uncontrollably as your nails dug deeper into his forearms, clawing desperately at the hard muscle beneath your fingertips as though he were the only thing anchoring you to the earth while heaven completely consumed you.

“I’m cumming so hard!” You cried again, your voice cracking into breathless sobs as another crushing pulse of pleasure ripped through your pussy and straight into the pit of your stomach.

Every involuntary squeeze around his tongue seemed to pull another greedy sound from him, and feeling him shamelessly drinking in every wave of your orgasm only made the pleasure burn even hotter. Your thighs locked tight around his head with trembling desperation, your hips jerked helplessly in his grasp, and your entire body shook so violently you could barely draw another breath.

“Oh God, have mercy!” You begged, “shit! Val—! F-fuck! Valko!”

Your orgasm tore through you so completely that it drowned out everything else. It crashed over your body in violent, relentless waves, wringing every last ounce of strength from your muscles until you couldn’t tell where you ended and the pleasure began. Your pussy fluttered and clenched uncontrollably around every furious slap of Valko’s tongue, each involuntary squeeze earning another bliss-drunk groan against your soaked corr that you barely even registered. You never felt the way his broad shoulders began trembling beneath your thighs. You never heard the loud, helpless moan that finally tore itself from his chest as he lost himself with you. The only thing your overwhelmed mind could comprehend was the overwhelming rush of heat pouring through your body, wave after glorious wave crashing into one another until you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t even remember your own name.

You simply let him have you. You let him ride out every last pulse of your orgasm with the same greedy hunger he’d been pouring into you from the very first lick. Your thighs shook violently around his head while your hips twitched helplessly against his mouth, your body surrendering completely as he shamelessly drank in every little spasm and every trembling squeeze your pussy gave him.

By the time the last wave finally began loosening its grip on you, your muscles had turned to jelly. Only then did you feel his enormous arms carefully lowering you. The world slowly tilted as he eased you back down onto the couch with surprising gentleness, still holding you securely until your back met the cushions. Your body landed like a completely boneless puddle, limp and trembling from head to toe, every nerve still humming with the lingering aftershocks of what he’d just done to you.

A breathless laugh bubbled out before you could stop it. Your lips stretched into the dopiest grin as you stared up at the ceiling, watching the brilliant little fireworks dancing across your vision slowly begin to fade. Sweat clung warmly to your skin, your chest rose and fell in ragged breaths, and your entire body continued trembling in tiny, helpless shivers that refused to stop. Your brain felt completely fried, cooked through by heat and pleasure until your thoughts drifted sluggishly through your head like warm molasses. Even your heartbeat seemed impossibly loud, pounding inside your chest and echoing between your ears while every sense remained wrapped in the hazy glow of euphoric exhaustion.

“H-holy shit…” You laughed between uneven breaths, “h-holy…W-wow…”

Another disbelieving laugh escaped you as you pressed a shaky hand over your forehead.

“You’re fucking incredible, you beast…” You swallowed another ragged breath before grinning even wider, “God, again…I-I want it again…”

It took every ounce of strength you had left just to push yourself up onto your forearms. Your arms quivered beneath your own weight as you finally managed to lift your head, blinking through the pleasant haze still clouding your vision while you tried to focus on Valko. He was still kneeling exactly where you’d left him. Panting. Trembling.

His face was flushed such a deep shade of red it spread all the way down his neck and disappeared across the broad expanse of his sweat-slick chest. His hair clung damply to his forehead, his lips hung slightly parted as he struggled to catch his breath, and he honestly looked as though someone had dropped an entire truck on top of him. His broad shoulders continued rising and falling with deep, uneven breaths while he stared somewhere unfocused, completely dazed by whatever had just happened to him.

“Are you—…” The question died in your throat.

Your eyes drifted lower. Then lower still. Your brows slowly pulled together. The front of his tailored slacks was soaked. Not just damp. There was a large, unmistakable wet patch spread across the expensive fabric, dark against the material where the obnoxious bulge that had been straining there only moments ago had noticeably softened. The heavy outline you’d been teasing earlier had shrunk considerably now, and for several bewildering seconds your pleasure-fogged brain simply refused to connect what your eyes were seeing. Confusion washed over you. Then, piece by piece, the impossible realization began settling into place. Just before he finally said it out loud.

“I-I came,” he panted, the confession spilling out between ragged breaths as though he still couldn’t quite believe it himself.

His broad hands dropped heavily onto the tops of his thighs, fingers spreading there while his shoulders continued rising and falling beneath the effort of catching his breath. Sweat glistened across the hard planes of his chest, and his auburn hair had fallen into a damp, hopeless mess over his forehead. When his exhausted golden eyes finally lifted back to yours, there was something almost endearingly vulnerable behind them. The confident teasing, the cocky grin, the shameless flirting, it had all melted away, leaving behind a man who looked thoroughly dazed by what had just happened. A tired, breathless laugh escaped him as he shook his head in complete disbelief.

“Holy fuck…” He breathed, still trying to process it himself, “I just came from that…”

Another incredulous laugh slipped out as he rubbed a weary hand over his flushed face before looking back at you with wide-eyed amazement.

“Wow…” He marveled at the absurdity of it all, “I didn’t even touch myself…”

For a heartbeat, neither of you said anything. Then the realization landed all at once.

“That’s insane…” The words left both of you at nearly the same time, and the silence immediately shattered beneath shared laughter.

It poured out of you helplessly, bright and breathless, still broken around the lingering tremors of your orgasm while he doubled over with an equally exhausted laugh of his own. You could barely look at him without laughing harder. There he was; the intimidating chairman of EonCore Tech, the enormous werewolf who looked capable of tearing through steel with his bare hands, completely flushed, thoroughly spent, and looking almost sheepish because he’d gotten so overwhelmed by eating you out that he’d climaxed without ever laying a hand on himself.

God. He looked so beautifully, ridiculously wrecked. The sight warmed something far deeper than the lingering heat still humming through your body. It wasn’t just thrilling anymore. It was strangely tender. The vulnerability on his face, the utter lack of embarrassment in admitting exactly what had happened, and the boyish disbelief written all over his expression made your chest tighten with unexpected affection.

Your laughter gradually softened into warm, lingering smiles as your eyes met across the small distance between you. The room still carried the scent of sweat, wine, grilled meat, and the undeniable aftermath of everything the two of you had just shared, while the music continued playing quietly in the background as though nothing extraordinary had happened at all. Yet everything felt different. The teasing. The flirting. The walls you’d spent so long hiding behind. Somewhere between your laughter and his honest confession, they had quietly fallen away.

the last final of junior year ends with the scrape of chairs against the lecture hall floor and the collective sigh of hundreds of students finally set free. by the time you step outside, campus already feels lighter. people are hugging goodbye. suitcases rattle over uneven sidewalks. someone is blasting music from a car across the parking lot.

it's summer.

you slip your phone out of your pocket while waiting on the front steps, your thumb hovering over one familiar contact — caleb.

the cursor blinks in the chat box as contemplate your message—finally free, can't wait to see you!

no that sounds too eager. delete. maybe—hope your drive to the lakehouse isn't awful.

thats stupid, why would you care about his drive? you let out a sigh damatic enough to earn an odd look from a student walking past.

it has been almost eleven months since you last saw him. not that you've been counting.

last summer ended with caleb wrapping one arm around your shoulders on the dock, laughing at something you'd said before pulling you into a quick hug.

"don't become a stranger, alright?"

then life happened. classes. internships. different schedules. the occasional family group chat. a handful of likes on each other's posts. but nothing substantial.

now you can't decide whether texting him before you see him would make you look excited...or embarrassingly obvious.

your phone buzzes and you groan as you stare at the message

zayne: outside. parked. hurry up.

perfect timing. your older brother is leaning against his suv with one hand tucked into his pocket and an iced coffee in the other. he looks exactly the same as when you hugged him goodbye outside your dorm last fall. neatly pressed clothes. perfect posture. the expression of a man hardened from med school.

"took you long enough to realize i was here" he muttered as you got close enough to him

"you've been here thirty seconds," you say rolling your eyes

you still wrap your arms around him despite his reluctance. zayne returns the hug with one arm.

"you get taller every semester?" he asks.

"your'e the doctor in training, shouldn't you know i stopped growing by now."

before you can reach for your suitcase, he's already lifting it into the trunk.

"i could have done that."

"that’s highly doubtful. you are incapable of packing less than your entire dorm room" he says before adding the rest of your bags and slamming the trunk closed.

the drive out of the city settles into an easy rhythm. you catch each other up on classes, professors, your parents, and whether your mom inevitably forgot something important for the lake house.

once you are on the highway, you get stuck in a perpetual loop of locking and unlocking your phone again.

"you expecting to hear from someone?" zayne asks without looking away from the road.

you huff, crossing your arms, "no of course not."

though you were secretly a bit disappointed. had caleb even thought about you in all your time apart? was he as excited to spend time with you as you were?

silence stretches between you for another few miles.

then, "thinking about caleb?"

your grip slips, and you nearly drop your phone into your lap, "what?"

"you heard me."

"i wasn't...i was just wondering if everyone got there already."

"if you were thinking about texting caleb—don't."

heat creeps into your cheeks before you can stop it.

you sink lower in your seat mumblin, "i wasn't going to text him."

for a while, the only sound inside the car is the steady hum of tires against the highway and soft music blending into the background.

then zayne clears his throat, "and before we get there..."

you already know what's coming.

"the usual rules."

"zayne."

"no disappearing after dark."

"i'm twenty two."

"no swimming in the lake alone."

"i know."

"no taking the boat out without telling someone."

"i know!"

"and if caleb suggests something stupid—"

"he doesn't suggest stupid things." you jump to his defense

"he once convinced you to jump off the roof into the lake."

"we were fourteen."

"you broke your wrist."

"i landed wrong." you laugh, unable to help yourself.

"he'd never let anything happen to me."

the words leave your mouth before you have time to think about them. you glance over at zayne's hands tighten around the steering wheel.

his voice is calm, but there's something unreadable beneath it, "but that doesn't mean i trust him."

your smile fades just enough to hide behind the window's reflection. he has never liked caleb. not really. not beyond years of playful competition that slowly sharpened into something neither of them bothered to disguise anymore.

and yet...despite the teasing. despite zayne's lectures. despite nearly a year apart. in just a few hours, you'll see your caleb again. somehow, that single thought is enough to make the rest of the drive feel impossibly long.

the familiar gravel crunches beneath the tires long before the lake house comes into view. you don't even wait for zayne to put the car in park. the second the engine cuts off, you're already out the door.

"seriously? you have luggage! " zayne calls after you.

"i'll get it later!" you shouted back

"you absolutely won't!"

he's right. you won't.

the screen door bangs shut behind you as you hurry inside, the scent of cedar, sunscreen, and whatever your mom has cooking wrapping around you like a memory. nothing has changed. the old framed photos still line the hallway. the grandfather clock still ticks a little too loudly. someone left a deck of cards scattered across the coffee table exactly the way they do every summer.

"sweetheart?"

your mom appears from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel before immediately pulling you into a hug.

"hi, mom."

she squeezes you once more before letting go, taking a step back to look you over.

"you look exhausted."

"finals will do that."

your dad looks up from where he's pouring himself a cup of coffee.

"made it in one piece?"

"zayne insists on driving exactly the speed limit."

"because that's how speed limits work," zayne calls from outside.

your dad laughs, "good to know i taught him well."

you smile despite yourself, but your eyes have already wandered toward the back deck. toward the wooden staircase. toward literally anywhere that isn't the kitchen.

your mom notices immediately, "you could at least pretend you're excited to see us."

"i am!"

she raises an eyebrow, "then why do you keep looking over my shoulder?"

heat creeps into your cheeks, "i was just...looking at the house "

"uh-huh."

your dad chuckles into his coffee, "let the poor girl breathe, honey."

"no," your mom says, laughing. "come say hello properly before you disappear."

five whole minutes. you answer questions about exams. about your dorm. about whether you're eating enough vegetables.

you swear you've never looked at the staircase this many times in your life. then finally your mom waves you off and you race upstairs.

your room is exactly the way you left it. the same pale yellow comforter stretches across the bed. the same bookshelf tucked into the corner still holds the worn novels you've been rereading every summer since middle school. even the tiny string lights around the window remain untouched.

some places never really change. you set your backpack on the bed before turning slowly in the middle of the room. home for the summer.

a soft knock sounds against the open door. then a familiar voice "hey, pipsqueak."

your heart forgets how to beat. you turn quickly and caleb is leaning casually against the doorframe, one shoulder resting against the wood like he hasn't just completely derailed your ability to think.

he's changed. not dramatically. just enough for you to notice. he's taller than you remember—or maybe he just carries himself differently now. his hair is a little longer. his shoulders broader beneath a faded navy t-shirt. there are laugh lines beginning to settle at the corners of his eyes that definitely weren't there last summer.

he catches you staring, "what?"

you blink, "you look older."

"ouch."

"i didn't mean—" you quickly begin to stutter

"i know."

his grin only grows, "you, on the other hand..."

he lets his gaze travel over you for a few seconds too long before meeting your eyes again.

"still look tiny."

you scoff, "i am not tiny!"

he pushes himself off the doorframe, "no?"

"as a matter of fact, i've matured."

"oh is that what we're calling it?"

you fold your arms, "and seriously? still with the pipsqueak!"

"i've been calling you that since you were ten."

you groan, "i am an adult!"

"mhm...whatever you say"

you narrow your eyes, "if you keep calling me that, i'm telling everyone about the time you fell off the paddleboard because you swore you saw a shark...in the lake."

his smile falters for exactly one second, "you said we'd never speak of that again."

"i lied." you said lightly sticking out your tongue.

"damn...since when did you fight dirty."

"i learned from the best."

for a moment, neither of you says anything. the teasing fades into something quieter. caleb studies your face like he's trying to memorize it all over again.

"it's good to see you," he says, softer this time.

your heart stumbles, "you too."

the words come out almost embarrassingly quiet.

his smile changes, it's warmer. like maybe he'd missed you just as much. before either of you can say another word, footsteps sound in the hallway and zayne appears carrying two of your overstuffed duffel bags with another tote slung over one shoulder.

"you forgot these," he says.

"i was coming back."

"no, you weren't."

he steps into the room, finally noticing caleb standing in the doorway.

they manage a polite greeting and caleb flashes the same easy smile he gives everyone, "need a hand with the rest?"

instead of responding, zayne brushes past him, setting your bags beside the closet with a little more force than necessary.

"next time you are responsible for your own crap." he says slightly out of breath

"no i think i will just get caleb to do it"

caleb chuckles at that before the room falls quiet for a beat. you glance between the boys. caleb is still smiling. zayne absolutely isn't. some things, it seems, never change.

except as caleb catches your eye one last time before stepping backward into the hallway, he gives you the smallest wink. so quick you almost think you imagined it.

after changing into your swimsuit, you make your way down the worn wooden steps toward the lake. the familiar smell of pine trees, charcoal and fresh water hangs in the warm afternoon air.

"well, look who's finally here"

caleb's mom smiles from the grill, an apron tied around her waist.

"there she is," his dad adds. "college hasn't made you forget about us, has it?"

you laugh, greeting them with hugs and chatting for a few minutes. they're warm as ever, asking about your classes, teasing you about how quickly you've grown up.

but your attention keeps drifting. out to the lake. caleb is waist-deep in the water, and when he emerges, he runs a hand through his wet hair. sunlight catches on the water running down his chest.

"everything alright?" his mom asks.

"what?"

"you've been staring at the lake."

you clear your throat, "i was just...thinking about swimming."

"go on," she laughs. "lunch won't be ready for another half hour."

you almost leave too quickly. the lake is cooler than you remember. you barely get waist-deep before—a splash. cold water hits your chest.

"caleb!"

he looks entirely too pleased with himself, "what?"

"you did that on purpose!"

"i have no idea what you're talking about."

"you absolutely—"

another splash.

"oh, you're dead."

"you've gotta catch me first, pipsqueak."

you charge toward him. he backs away, laughing. water flies everywhere. at one point you manage to splash him square in the face.

he wipes his eyes dramatically, "you fight dirty."

"you started it!"

"i regret nothing."

"you will."

you cup your hands and throw another wave of water. he reaches for your wrists to stop you. for a second neither of you moves. his hands remain around your wrists. your laughter fades. you're suddenly very aware of how close he is.

water laps quietly around both of you.

"you've gotten stronger," he says softly.

his thumbs unconsciously brush your skin. with his other hand, the pad of his thumb brushes just beneath your eye, sweeping away a bead of water that had begun to trail down your cheek. his fingers linger just long enough to tuck a damp strand of hair behind your ear.

his eyes search yours for a moment before dropping just briefly—to your lips. when they lift again, something has changed. the easy teasing is still there. but underneath it is something neither of you has ever acknowledged aloud.

before either of you can react—"HEY! lunch is ready!"

zayne's voice echoes across the lake and caleb let's go immediately.

he groans dramatically, "you know... for just one summer, it'd be nice if your brother stopped interrupting me."

"and what exactly was he interrupting?"

caleb's grin turns almost mischievous, "you will just have to wait to find out."

the lake house is quiet by the time the fire burns low. the adults have gone inside. zayne disappeared after claiming he was "actually going to get decent sleep for once."

you're content to sit alone, staring into the flames. the dock stretches out into a lake painted silver by moonlight. footsteps approach behind you. you don't have to turn around. a familiar weight settles over your shoulders. a blanket and caleb is standing behind your chair.

"you looked cold."

"i wasn't." you muttered

he doesn't say anything just grins before sitting beside you, poking at the fire with a stick.

a moment later he holds out a bottle, "beer?"

you take it and clink your bottles together in a silent cheers. for a while, neither of you says much. the silence isn't awkward. it never has been.

"so..." caleb says eventually.

"how's school?"

you tell him the unfiltered version. the one's the grown ups don't get to hear. about professors you hated, friends you've made, parties you were dragged to. he tells you stories from his own campus and eventually the conversation drifts.

"i saw your pictures."

he glances sideways, "oh...which one's?"

you fiddled with your fingers, "the ones with all the girls hanging off you."

he laughs, "oh those ones"

heat flushes your face, as a hint of jealousy rises up, "you looked...busy."

he only laughs harder, "busy?'"

you suddenly regret even bringing it up. but caleb smiles into his beer, "they're just friends."

yeah of course he would say that. there is no way he is the kind of guy willing to settle for a relationship right now.

"and none of them were my girlfriend."

despite your thoughts, you hate how relieved you feel.

"what about you? you seeing anyone?" he asks.

you shrug, "not really."

he tilts his head, "what about...hookups?" he asks nonchalantly

you nearly choke on your drink, "caleb! you can't just ask people that!"

"sure i can."

you hide behind your beer bottle suddenly feeling very exposed, "there've been...a couple"

his eyebrows rise, "a couple?"

you groan, "i'm not answering follow-up questions."

"i wasn't going to ask how many." he throws his hands up

"you were thinking about it."

"yeah you're right i was."

you laugh despite yourself.

he leans back in his chair, "so what qualifies as a hookup?"

you cover your face, "oh my god."

you stand, hoping movement will hide how warm your face has become.

"i'm going to bed."

"so soon?"

"it's late."

you take one step then feel gentle fingers close around your wrist. caleb's grip isn't firm. just enough to make you look back.

"stay a little longer."

his voice is quieter now. the teasing is gone. and it's just him. looking up at you in the firelight. waiting. you look down at his hand. then back at him. those purple eyes shining, silently pleading you not to go.

you have to will yourself to say, "...i should go."

he doesn't let go immediately, "why?"

you swallow, "because if i stay..." you laugh nervously, "i think this is going to get complicated."

you say it more to yourself than to him but he still hears you. his expression changes. more serious than you've ever seen it before he releases you.

"maybe it already is."

the next morning you sluggishly come downstairs a little late, hoping to avoid everyone...well, just caleb. much to your dismay he is already sitting at the dining table, coffee cup in hand. bags under his eyes. maybe he didn't sleep well either?

the second your eyes meet across the kitchen, you both look away a little too quickly.

"so what does everyone plan on doing today?" you ask no one in particular

immediately everyone starts pairing off. your mom and caleb's mom want to stay behind to read and relax. the dads and zayne are going fishing. which just leaves you and caleb.

"we could take the jet ski's," he suggests

before you or anyone else can respond—"no." the word comes from zayne so quickly it almost overlaps yours.

caleb leans back in his chair, looking entirely too amused, "didn't realize i was asking your permission."

"you weren't."

"so why are you answering?"

"because my sister's involved."

you let out an exasperated sigh, "i'm sitting right here. i can decide for myself."

"i know."

"then why are we having this conversation?"

zayne levels caleb with a look.

"because every time the two of you are together, one of you comes back soaking wet, sunburned, or with a story that starts with, 'you won't believe what happened.'"

caleb grins, "in my defense, those are usually good stories."

"they build hospital bills."

a laugh escapes you before you can stop it.

"zayne," your dad says, shaking his head, "they're adults."

"they're adults who share one brain cell."

your mom smiles into her coffee, "they've been riding those jet skis since they were kids."

"and caleb knows this lake better than anyone," his dad adds. "they'll be fine."

zayne's jaw tightens. for a moment, you think he might actually argue. instead, he sighs, "stay where people can see you."

"we will," you promise.

down at the dock, you put on your lifejacket and silently stand off to the side watching caleb prepare the jet ski.

before you get on he reaches over to tighten one of the straps because that had gotten twisted. his fingers sliding down your arms lingering there for you aren't sure how long.

"you remember how to hold on?"

"i think so."

"you think?"

"i haven't been on one since last summer."

he grins, "i guess you'll have to trust me."

as he accelerates, you instinctively grab his waist. your cheek is close enough to his shoulder to smell his sunscreen.

he smiles to himself because he can feel your grip tighten every time he takes a sharp turn.

eventually he slows down in a secluded cove. the water is perfectly still and there is no one else around.

you let go of him, "you did that on purpose."

"what?"

"the turns."

"i have no idea what you're talking about."

"you absolutely wanted me to hold onto you."

he looks over his shoulder with the cockiest smile imaginable, "did it work?"

heat rushes to your cheeks, "you're unbelievable."

"i'll take that as a yes."

"i grabbed you because I didn't want to fall off!"

caleb laughs quietly before cutting the engine completely. the sudden silence settles around you. the jet ski rocks gently with the movement of the water. the cove is secluded, hidden by tall pines that wrap around the shoreline. it feels like the rest of the lake has disappeared.

"you haven't changed at all."

his smile softens, "i don't know." he looks out across the lake for a moment before speaking again, "i think we both have. i used to think college would make it easier," he says.

"easier?"

"being away."

you frown, "it didn't?"

he shakes his head, "at first, sure. classes kept me busy. practice kept me busier."

he glances back at you, "but then i'd see something that reminded me of you."

your breath catches, "like what?"

"i don't know." he shrugs. "a song you'd probably make fun of. someone reading one of those fantasy books you're always trying to get me to borrow."

"you still haven't read them. you promised!"

"i did."

"you liar!"

"i'll read one this year."

you laugh quietly, "i'll believe it when i see it."

he smiles, "i'd check your instagram every couple of weeks."

"you did?"

"i wanted to see what you were up to."

"i thought you were too busy."

"i was." he looks down at the water, "didn't stop me."

you don't know what to say. so you choose to say nothing.

"i always liked seeing you smiling."

your heart stumbles.

"you looked...happy."

"i was."

"good. i just..." he rubs the back of his neck, suddenly looking far less confident than usual.

"i wish we'd talked more."

you look at him, "so why didn't we?"

he lets out a quiet breath, "i kept thinking i'd call after my exams. then after practice. then after midterms."

you smile knowingly.

"and suddenly it was may and i figured..." he chuckles softly. "it would've been weird to randomly text you after disappearing for months."

"i would've answered. i would've been happy you texted."

his eyes meet yours, "...yeah?"

"yeah."

a smile slowly spreads across his face, "i guess we're both kind of idiots."

you laugh, "i was literally debating whether to text you before we left campus."

he raises an eyebrow, "were you?"

"i typed out, like...four different messages."

"and?"

"i deleted all of them."

he laughs, "i almost texted you too. i had this whole thing written out."

"what did it say?"

he thinks for a second, "i don't remember exactly."

"liar."

"i guess you will never know."

you shake your head, smiling to yourself. before you can think of a reply—BWAAAMP. the sharp blast of a boat horn echoes across the lake. you both turn toward the sound. in the distance, one of the fishing boats bobs near the mouth of the cove.

a familiar voice carries over the water, "YOU TWO DONE SIGHTSEEING?" zayne.

caleb closes his eyes for a second, "...of course."

you bite your lip to keep from laughing.

"he has impeccable timing."

"i was going to say terrible timing."

"he'll never let us hear the end of this."

"he never lets me hear the end of anything."

Another blast of the horn.

"CALEB!"

"yeah, yeah!" caleb calls back. "we're coming!"

he starts the engine again, the roar breaking the quiet between you.

the rest of the afternoon passes in a blur. or maybe you're the blur. you shower to rinse away the lake water, but your fingers pause against your cheek for just a second too long, remembering how caleb's thumb had brushed away the droplets clinging to your skin just a day ago.

ridiculous. you shake the thought away. after changing into an oversized T-shirt and a pair of shorts, you spend some time helping your mom slice fruit for lunch before wandering outside with a book tucked beneath your arm.

the hammock sways gently between two old oak trees. usually, this is your favorite part of summer. no classes. no deadlines. just the rhythmic creak of the hammock and the sound of the lake lapping against the shore.

you open your book. read the same sentence three times. turn a page. realize you have no idea what you just read. with a sigh, you let the novel rest against your chest and stare up through the canopy of leaves instead.

this is bad. really bad. you'd had a crush on caleb for years. that part wasn't new. you'd long since accepted that he'd probably never look at you as anything other than zayne's little sister—the kid who followed him around every summer, who laughed at all his jokes, who secretly dreaded the end of august because it meant another year before she'd see him again. you'd made your peace with that. or at least, you thought you had.

but now...now he was looking at you differently. or maybe he always had and you just never noticed. the thought alone made your stomach twist. he'd looked at your instagram. he'd wanted to text you. he'd admitted he wished you'd talked more during the year. those weren't things you imagined.

you close your eyes. maybe he hadn't meant anything by it. maybe you were reading into every smile, every teasing comment, every lingering glance because that's what hopeless romantics did.

maybe—"i always liked seeing you smiling."

you groan quietly, dropping your forearm over your eyes. great. now you're replaying conversations, too. this was exactly why you needed to put a little space between the two of you.

because if you kept collecting moments like this—the way he'd adjusted your life jacket. the way he'd laughed when you wrapped your arms around him. the way he'd admitted he missed talking to you—you were going to convince yourself there was something there.

and if you were wrong...no. you needed to get a grip. he was caleb. your oldest friend. nothing more. you'd survived having feelings for him this long. you could survive one more summer. couldn't you?

by early evening, the sky has traded its brilliant blue for heavy charcoal clouds. a distant rumble of thunder rolls across the lake.

"storm's coming," your dad calls from the dock.

everyone springs into motion. the dads begin securing the fishing boat and tying down the paddleboards before the wind picks up. your mom and caleb's mom hurry to gather books and empty glasses from the deck. zayne is already hauling stacks of beach chairs toward the shed.

"i've got the towels," he calls over his shoulder.

you glance toward the old boathouse sitting at the end of the dock.

"i'll close up the boathouse!"

"good idea!" your dad shouts back.

you jog down the weathered planks, the breeze growing stronger with every step. the old wooden doors groan as you pull one open. Inside, everything smells faintly of cedar, rope, and lake water. you begin rolling up a loose extension cord, humming absentmindedly to yourself.

"you know..."

you jump so violently you nearly drop it.

"oh my god!"

a laugh echoes behind you, "you scare that easily?"

you whirl around. xaleb stands in the doorway, one hand still resting against the frame.

"you almost gave me a heart attack."

he grins, "i came to help."

thunder cracks overhead. before either of you can say anything else—the rain comes. not a drizzle. a downpour. sheets of water crash onto the lake so suddenly the opposite shoreline disappears behind a gray curtain.

caleb instinctively pulls the boathouse door mostly shut. the sound is immediate. rain drums against the tin roof with enough force to drown out almost everything else. for a moment, neither of you speaks. the only light filtering through the windows is muted and silver, making the little boathouse feel strangely separate from the rest of the world.

you let out a slow breath, "i don't think we're going anywhere."

"probably not."

he leans against one of the wooden support beams.

"so...you've been avoiding me."

you busy yourself coiling the rope again.

"i haven't."

"you have."

"i've just been reading."

"you held the same page for twenty minutes."

your head snaps up.

"...you saw that?"

"i walked by."

"and you were watching me?"

a corner of his mouth lifts.

"...maybe."

you look away before he can see the smile threatening to form.

"it's just..."

you search for the right words.

"i don't know."

you sigh.

"every time I'm around you..."

your fingers tighten around the rope.

"...i forget how to act."

the confession hangs between you. the rain seems louder somehow. theres a moment of silence. you can't help but hold your breath. then he says quietly, "good."

a mix of relief and confusion washes over you, "good?"

he steps closer leaving just enough space to give you every opportunity to leave before saying, "because i thought i was the only one."

your eyes flicker from his lips to the door behind him "zayne would kill us."

he smiles, but there's almost sadness in it, "probably."

you move closer to him anyway sealing the gap between your bodies. the kiss isn't desperate. it's slow and careful. your noses slightly bump awkwardly against each other as you grab his shirt nervously. lips moving together, experimenting if you dare to go further.

voices carry through the rain. muffled at first. then clearer.

"...hurry up!"

"grab the coolers!"

"the wind's picking up!"

you and caleb pull apart so quickly it's almost comical. the space between you suddenly feels enormous. you're both breathing a little harder than you should be. neither of you says anything. you don't even know where to look. his eyes. the floor. anywhere but his mouth.

a nervous laugh escapes you before you can stop it.

"...well."

caleb lets out a quiet huff of laughter, rubbing the back of his neck.

"yeah."

"i..." you shake your head. "i don't even know what to say."

"me neither."

for someone who always seems to have a joke ready, caleb looks surprisingly speechless.

his lips curve into a crooked smile, "i wasn't expecting to do that."

"you weren't?"

"i mean..." he chuckles softly. "i've thought about it."

your heart nearly stops, "you've—"

"a lot more than i probably should've."

heat rushes to your face all over again. outside, footsteps splash across the dock.

"they're probably looking for us," you say quietly.

"probably."

neither of you moves.

caleb's smile fades into something gentler, "i've been trying to convince myself this was a bad idea since i saw you yesterday."

a small smile tugs at your lips, "how's that going?"

he lets out a breath that sounds suspiciously like a laugh, "...not great."

you laugh again, this time because if you don't, your heart might actually burst.

"i should go."

"yeah."

"you should too."

"i know."

still...neither of you reaches for the door. another flash of lightning illuminates the boathouse. for just a second, you can see him perfectly. his hair is damp from the humidity. his T-shirt clings slightly to his shoulders. he's looking at you like he isn't quite sure this is real. you wonder if you're wearing the same expression.

finally, he reaches for the door. before pushing it open, he glances back, "so...we should probably pretend that didn't happen."

your stomach drops a little, "right."

"can you do that?"

you look at him for a long moment before answering, "probably not."

his laugh is quiet, "yeah...me neither."

he reaches for your hand. just for a second and gives it a gentle and reassuring squeeze.

you walk back separately. no one notices when you enter in the mudroom, soaking wet, and cheeks flush. no one notices how you look back at him before going upstairs to shower. except...zayne. because he sees the way caleb looks at your form, and his hands clench at his sides. and for the first time...he gets suspicious.

the rain hammered against the windows in steady sheets, the lakehouse dark except for the faint glow of the fridge light as you padded barefoot into the kitchen. your lips still tingled from the kiss during the storm, the memory of caleb's mouth on yours making your pulse race even now. you reached for a glass, filling it with cold water, when a floorboard creaked behind you.

you spun around, heart leaping into your throat. caleb stood in the doorway, shirtless, sweatpants slung low on his hips, his hair still damp from the rain. his eyes locked on yours, dark and unreadable in the dim light.

"couldn’t sleep either?" he asked, voice low.

before you could answer, thunder cracked violently overhead. lightning flashed, illuminating the kitchen for a split second and making you jump. the glass nearly slipped from your fingers. caleb moved fast, closing the distance and steadying your hand with his own. his fingers lingered, warm against your skin.

"you're shaking," he murmured, stepping closer until his chest nearly brushed yours. the air between you felt charged, heavier than the storm outside. his gaze dropped to your mouth, then back up. "is it from the thunder…or from earlier?"

your breath caught. the memory of his lips claiming yours flashed through your mind, and suddenly the space felt too small, too hot. caleb's free hand came up, thumb brushing your lower lip as if testing if the kiss had been real.

"earlier you mentioned those college hookups," he said, voice low and edged with something sharper than casual curiosity. "you never gave me details. what exactly did they do with you?"

your face heated. before you could deflect, his hand settled on your waist, thumb stroking just under the hem of your sleep shirt. he leaned in, lips near your ear.

"did they touch you like this?"

his palm slid up, fingers spreading over your breast. he cupped the soft flesh, then dragged his thumb slowly across your nipple in a deliberate circle. the thin fabric did nothing to dull the sensation. a small sound escaped you.

caleb hummed, satisfied. "was it enough? did it feel good when they touched you?"

"caleb…" you breathed, half warning, half plea.

he didn't stop. his other hand moved lower, slipping beneath the waistband of your shorts to rest against the front of your panties. two fingers pressed gently over your clit through the damp cotton, rubbing in slow, firm strokes.

"answer me," he murmured, mouth brushing your jaw. "did any of them make you this wet?"

your hips twitched forward without thinking. he kept the pressure light, teasing, waiting. thunder rolled overhead again, louder this time. caleb’s fingers dipped lower, tracing the seam of your pussy through the fabric.

"tell me the truth," he said quietly. "are you still a virgin?"

heat flooded your cheeks. you nodded once, eyes dropping to the floor.

"i… was waiting," you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "for the right time. for you."

caleb stilled for a moment taking in your words and then his mouth was on yours again. only this time there was no hesitation. the kiss turned hungry fast, his tongue sliding against yours as he backed you against the counter. his hands gripped your waist, fingers digging in as he pulled you flush against him. you felt the hard line of his cock pressing through his sweatpants, and a soft sound escaped you. caleb swallowed it, deepening the kiss,

you broke apart just enough to gasp for air, but he chased your mouth, nipping at your bottom lip before kissing down your jaw to your neck. "been wanting to do this since the storm," he growled against your skin, teeth grazing your pulse.

he didn't give you time to react. he grabbed your wrist and led you out of the kitchen, both of you moving fast and quiet up the stairs. the moment his bedroom door shut behind you, he had you on the bed, shirt yanked off, mouth already moving down your collarbones to your chest.

his mouth found your breast, sucking your nipple hard while his fingers returned between your legs, two of them pushing inside you slowly. you clenched around him, still untouched, and caleb cursed softly.

"so tight," he muttered, working his fingers deeper, stretching you. "gonna take it slow, but fuck, i want all of you."

he curled his fingers, rubbing that sensitive spot inside until your hips jerked. his thumb circled your clit at the same time, building the heat steadily. when your breathing turned ragged he pulled his fingers free, and stripped the rest of your clothes away and kicked off his sweatpants. his cock stood heavy and flushed between you. he tore the condom wrapper off with his teeth, stroked himself once to put it on, then positioned the head against your entrance, rubbing it through your wetness.

"tell me if it's too much," he said, voice strained, before pushing in.

the stretch burned at first, your body yielding inch by inch as he sank deeper. caleb paused when he was halfway in, kissing you hard, one hand stroking your clit to ease the discomfort.

"breathe, y/n. you feel so fucking good."

the stretch burned. caleb moved slow, inch by careful inch, pausing whenever you tensed. he kissed you through it, swallowing every shaky sound, a hand on your hip rubbing comforting circles to steady you. once he was fully seated he stayed still, forehead pressed to yours, letting you adjust to the full feeling of him.

"you feel perfect," he rasped. "so wet and hot around me."

then he started moving, slow thrusts that gradually built in speed. each stroke dragged against sensitive walls, the friction turning the initial ache into sharp pleasure. his grip on your waist tightened as his pace gradually increased. skin met skin with soft, wet sounds that mixed with the rain outside.

caleb hooked one of your legs higher, changing the angle so the head of his cock rubbed that spot inside you on every thrust. his thumb moving back to your sensitive nub, rubbing faster now, matching the rhythm of his hips.

"you are taking me so well"

his lips met yours again trying to muffle the sweet sounds coming from your lips. as much as he wanted you to scream his name and let everyone know that at this moment you were his, he couldn't have anyone barging in.

"i want to feel you come on my cock," he said against your mouth. "let go for me."

your orgasm built tight and sudden. your walls fluttered around him, then clamped down hard as pleasure crashed through you. caleb groaned, hips stuttering as your pussy squeezed him rhythmically. he fucked you through it, until he buried himself deep and came with a low, broken sound, pulsing hot inside you.

he collapsed half on top of you, both of you catching your breath while he still held you, hands lingering as they found and intertwined with each other. after a moment he kissed your temple, then your lips, slower and gentler than before. outside, the storm continued, but inside the room the only sound was your mingled breaths and the steady patter of rain.

after that night you try to find any reason to be with caleb. with excuses few and far between the weeks slips by in stolen moments that grow bolder each time. you and caleb map each other out whenever the house empties—quick fucks against the boathouse wall, his cock buried deep while you bite his shoulder to stay quiet. long sessions of hands and mouths learn every inch. each encounter leaves you both hungry for more, bodies already familiar but never satisfied for long.

despite your best efforts to remain secretive. you can't help but feel uneasy about your older brother. zayne has definitely started noticing that something is going on. he lingers in doorways when caleb tries to pull you aside. he suggests group hikes right when you planned to sneak off. one afternoon he plants himself between you on the couch, scrolling through his phone while caleb's hand had been creeping up your thigh. the tension builds in silence—caleb's jaw tightens every time zayne appears, but he keeps his expression neutral, voice easy. zayne's glares say everything his words don't.

this evening, though, you find yourselves back at the dock, it creaks softly under your weight as the sun dips low over the lake, painting the water in streaks of gold and deep orange. caleb pulls you closer on the weathered planks, his arm draped around your shoulders while the evening breeze carries the scent of pine and water. he shrugs off his hoodie without a word, draping the soft fabric over your frame before tugging you into his side.

you lean into him, as you voice your own worries about leaving this place behind. you both talk about the next year—your final stretch before senior year, his remaining flight assessments and training hours that keep him tied down longer than most. his free hand finds yours, thumb brushing over your knuckles while he shares his fears too—the pressure of expectations, the uncertainty of what comes after summer ends. he worries about his schedule pulling him away, about how the distance might test whatever this is between you. the conversation flows easy, deeper than stolen touches, binding you tighter with every shared secret.

as the light fades completely, the dock feels like your own world. caleb turns toward you, eyes dark with more than just talk. his lips find yours in a slow press that quickly deepens, tongues sliding together as his hand cups the back of your neck. you melt into the kiss, bodies pressing close. hands roam—his under the fabric to skim your waist, yours fisting in his shirt—as the makeout grows urgent. teeth graze lips, breaths mix heavy, and his tongue explores deeper while you straddle his lap for a better angle. the dock sways faintly beneath you, the only sounds your quiet gasps and the water lapping below.

it builds fast, his cock hardening against you through layers of clothing, your hips rolling instinctively. he groans into your mouth, pulling you tighter until the kiss turns messy, desperate. you have to force yourselves apart, chests heaving, lips swollen and wet. "fuck, we can't... we have to go inside soon," he whispers against your temple, though his hands linger on your hips like he doesn't want to let go.

later that night, the whole group crowds around the big table for cards. your parents and brother laugh and argue over rules while snacks get passed around, completely oblivious to the tension crackling beneath the surface. you're seated beside caleb, his chair pulled close under the guise of strategy talk.

his hand slips beneath the tablecloth the moment the game starts, fingers tracing up your inner thigh with deliberate slowness. you keep your expression neutral, eyes on your cards as his touch reaches into the sides of your shorts. he slowly caresses your folds through your panties before pushing the fabric aside without hesitation, two fingers sliding through to find your clit. the first slow circles make your breath hitch, but you bite it back, focusing on the game while he works to get you soaking.

he chats with your brother across the table, voice easy, even as he sinks one finger inside you. then two. he pumps them in a steady rhythm—thrust, curl, drag—hitting that spot that makes your walls flutter. your pussy clenches around him, getting wetter with every pass. his thumb never stops on your clit, pressing and circling while his fingers fuck you under the cover of the game. you shift in your seat, pretending to reach for a card, but he suddenly adds a third finger, stretching you wider, scissoring gently as the wet sounds stay hidden beneath the laughter and dice rolls.

the pressure builds fast, your thighs shaking. he continues to add pressure, fingers fucking you in time with the conversation, drawing you closer to the edge without mercy. you white knuckle your cards as caleb leans close to your ear to whisper "your turn"

you slam your cards down on the table, as your orgasm shudders through your body, the slick evidence of your arousal coating his hand under the table. the looks of shock are apparent on everyone's faces as you miraculously win the round.

the text arrives while you were out shopping as a group. your phone lights up in your hand, a name from campus flashing across the screen.

your mom calls out from behind your shoulder loud enough for everyone around you to hear, "who's xavier and why is he messaging you?"

you hesitate before answering, looking over to see caleb is preoccupied by a rack of keychains, "just a guy from school."

suddenly zayne appears next to you, "didn't you go out on a date with him? good guy i thought." he isn't saying this so much to your mom as he is inadvertently to any prying ears.

caleb accidentally knocks over the display, causing the keychains to splatter on the floor.

you sheepishly look towards him as you speak, "he is just a friend. nothing more."

the drive back to the lake house is unusually quiet. your mom chatters happily from the front passenger seat about the little bakery she'd found. your dad hums along to whatever old song is playing through the speakers. zayne scrolls absentmindedly through his phone beside him.

in the backseat, caleb stares out the window. he hasn't said a word since the gift shop. the passing trees blur together outside. you glance over, his jaw is tight as one hand rests on his knee, fingers tapping an uneven rhythm against his jeans.

you know him well enough to recognize it - he's upset. carefully, making sure no one in the front can see, you let your hand drift toward his. your pinky brushes his. nothing. you hook your finger around his. he doesn't pull away but he doesn't lace your fingers together like he usually does, either.

a few minutes later, you rest your hand lightly against his thigh. his eyes flick down for the briefest moment. then back out the window. the silence says everything.

that evening, the lake is quiet. the air is heavy with the scent of pine and warm wood and you know exactly where to find him. you enter the boat house to find him standing by the back window. he doesn't turn to look at you though he knows your there. you wrap your arms around him to reach the front of his chest.

"are you going to look at me?"

you feel his entire body flex as he exhales slowly through his nose.

"you don't want me to."

his eyes remain fixed on the lake outside the window.

"talk to me."

silence stretches between you. and just as you are about to change tactics he finally asks—"did you ever hook up with xavier?"

the question is so quiet you almost miss it. he finally turns to look at you. you see it in his eyes then. his wounded expression.

"did you?"

"no!"

he studies your face looking for any sign you might be lying.

"you went on a date."

"yes one date...and we realized we were better as friends."

"that's it?"

"that's it."

he lets out a breath of relief, almost laughing at himself, before it finds itself lost in his throat.

your fingers have moved down from his chest to work his zipper down, freeing his thick cock. it twitches in your palm, already leaking at the tip. you wrap your hand around the shaft and stroke slow, base to head, thumb swiping over the slit to spread the precum. caleb doesn't stop you. his head tips back against the wall, a low groan rumbling out.

you drop to your knees, "i don't want him. i've never wanted anyone else."

your tongue drags up the underside of his cock, tracing the vein, then you take the head into your mouth and suck. caleb's hand finds your hair, not pushing, just holding as you bob lower, taking more of him each time. spit slicks your lips. you hollow your cheeks and suck harder while your hand works the base in steady pumps. his hips twitch forward, cock sliding over your tongue, hitting the back of your throat on the next descent.

you pull off just long enough to speak, strings of saliva connecting your lips to his flushed head.

"only you. only ever you."

you continue your movements as he tries to speak through sighs and groans, "i - i know how stupid this fuck...sounds."

you move off him, "then why are you asking?"

"because..." he shakes his head. "i wasn't there."

your brows knit together but you don't pull off of him.

"i missed every chance someone else had to get to know you."

you don't answer right away. because suddenly this isn't about any hookup or date. it's about time. about distance. about all the moments the two of you never got to have.

"are you jealous?" your voice is muffled but he heard you.

he scoffs, suddenly getting filled with a hint of anger again as he tugs your head forward and you nearly choke out moan. the pain only pushing you further to prove yourself to him.

"i'm jealous of every person who got to be around you when i couldn't."

you sink further down, sucking him deep while your fist twists and strokes what your mouth can't reach. caleb's breathing turns ragged. his thighs tense under your palms.

"i hate thinking about someone else making you laugh."

he laughs softly at himself, "i hate wondering if someone else got to hear about your day before i did."

he looks down for a second watching you take him so well and he nearly cums at the sight.

"and i really hate that the first thing my brain did today was wonder if i'd already lost before i even had a chance."

you speed up, and he cums with a bitten-off curse, thick ropes pulsing over your tongue and down your throat. you swallow every drop, licking him clean until he softens, then tuck him back into his shorts and stand to kiss him slow and deep.

"you never lost."

he swiftly pulls you against his chest, arms tight. "fuck. i needed that."

you slowly rub his back tracing his spine with your nails, "if you're wondering about something..."

you give him a squeeze, "ask me."

he nods, nuzzling into your shoulder. "i can do that."

something changed between you after that day in the boathouse. not all at once. nothing dramatic. the world didn't suddenly become simpler. but somewhere between sneaking around and the confession you'd whispered to caleb, the uncertainty that had followed the two of you all summer quietly disappeared. you'd chosen him. and somehow, that seemed to be all caleb had needed to hear. he smiled more and laughed louder. started reaching for your hand without stopping to think about who might be watching.

then, one morning, you woke to a knock at your bedroom window. you pulled back the curtains to find caleb standing in the yard below, balancing a picnic basket in one hand and grinning like he'd just gotten away with something. he looked entirely too pleased with himself.

you cracked the window open, "what are you doing?"

"kidnapping you."

"where are we going?"

his smile softened, "i want to show you something."

the trail winds deeper into the woods before caleb slows, pushing aside a curtain of low-hanging branches.

"there she is."

you stop in awe, "no way."

nestled between two enormous oaks is the old treehouse. it's smaller than you remember. or maybe you've just gotten bigger. the faded blue paint has long since peeled away, and one corner of the roof sags ever so slightly, but somehow...it still feels like magic.

"you fixed the ladder," you say, noticing the newer wooden rungs.

caleb shrugs, "last summer. it looked like it'd collapse if someone tried climbing it."

"you could've told me."

"i wanted it to be a surprise."

he climbs first, offering you a hand when you reach the top. the inside is exactly as you remember. old blankets folded in one corner. a deck of playing cards missing half its suits. faded marker drawings covering the walls.

you laugh suddenly as your eyes caught something, "oh my god."

"what?"

"you drew yourself with muscles."

"i was manifesting."

"you labeled yourself 'captain awesome.'"

you shake your head, smiling as you trail your fingers across the walls. there are years of memories here. height measurements. inside jokes. terrible doodles. then your eyes catch something tucked into one of the corners. a pocketknife. you pick it up.

"you left this here?"

caleb glances over, "huh i completely forgot about that."

you turn it over in your hands before looking back at the wall.

"you know...we never carved our initials."

he raises an eyebrow, "probably because zayne would've yelled at us."

a mischievous thought crosses your mind, "...maybe we should."

caleb studies you for a second. then smiles, i thought you'd never ask."

he kneels beside one of the support beams, flipping the knife open.

"come here."

you settle beside him. the wood is old and weathered beneath your fingertips.

"what should we write?"

you hesitate then, with exaggerated confidence, you scratch the first letter of your name into the beam. it's crooked but it's yours. he carefully carves the first letter of his own name beside yours. the two initials sit together. simple. small. almost hidden. you stare at them longer than you probably should.

"when i was little..." you laugh under your breath. "this is embarrassing."

"now i definitely want to hear it."

you cover your face for a second, "i used to write your last name after mine."

caleb goes completely still, "what?"

"in my notebooks." you groan. "i was, like, twelve."

a sheepish grin forms on his face, "seriously?"

"it was incredibly pathetic and i'd cross it out before anyone saw."

"how many times?"

"so many." you hide your face in your hands, "i cannot believe i just admitted that."

a quiet laugh escapes him, "i wish i'd known."

the afternoon light spills through the open windows, casting soft patterns across the floorboards. caleb reaches over, gently brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. a gesture that's become so familiar over the last few weeks that your heart somehow still isn't used to it.

"i don't think I've ever..." his thumb lingers lightly against your cheek, "looked forward to anything the way i look forward to seeing you every summer."

he searches your face for a long moment, "i don't know what this is going to look like after summer."

your chest tightens.

"but i know..." he trails off, his eyes never leave yours, "i know i don't want to go back to pretending you're just..."

he shakes his head, unable to find the words. "you're not just zayne's little sister anymore."

the words hang in the air. you can see it in his expression. there's something else he wants to say. something bigger. but he lets out a quiet breath instead.

"...you make me really happy."

you lean forward, resting your forehead against his, "so do you."

as the summer comes to you a close you find yourself in caleb's embrace night after night. after that day at the treehouse you had become less aware of your surroundings. maybe carving your initials into those weathered wooden walls had made everything feel more permanent. more real. it was reckless. you knew that. the problem was...every day you got away with it made the next one seem a little less dangerous. until eventually, neither of you realized just how careless you'd become.

currently caleb's mouth is buried between your thighs, tongue working slow, deliberate circles around your clit while two fingers curl inside you. he's been at it for what feels like forever—bringing you right to the edge, then easing off just before you can tip over. your hips twitch, chasing more, but his free hand presses your stomach down, keeping you pinned to the mattress.

"you're doing so good for me," he murmurs against your soaked pussy, voice low and warm. "taking it so well. fuck, i could stay here all night. never get tired of tasting you like this."

a broken sound slips out of you. recently you had started forgetting to lower your voice. he licks a long stripe up your slit, then sucks gently on your clit again, pulling another desperate whimper from your throat. your fingers twist in his hair, thighs trembling around his head.

"caleb—please—"

he hums, the vibration making your back arch. "not yet, baby. i want to feel you shaking for me a little longer."

his fingers pump deeper, scissoring, stretching, but never quite enough to let you cum. every time your walls start fluttering around him, he slows, kisses the inside of your thigh instead, lets the heat build and fade again.

"want you desperate. want you remembering this every time you think about going home." he bites and sucks a mark that has your back arching off the bed

"this summer…i don't want it to end," he admits quietly, almost like he’s talking more to himself.

"don't want to be apart from you. this—us—feels like everything i've ever wanted. just wish i'd said something sooner."

your breath hitches. the sudden confession hit somewhere deeper than the pleasure, but before you can answer, a sharp knock rattles the door.

"you good in there?" zayne's voice cuts through the haze. "sounded like you were crying."

your body goes rigid. caleb yanks his fingers out so fast it punches a gasp from your throat. he wipes his mouth on his arm, eyes wide with panic, and the two of you scramble at once. your hand snatches the sheet up to your chest while he drops to his knees and rolls under the bed in one clumsy motion. his shoulder slams against the floor, one shoe stays behind near the dresser.

you barely get the sheet over yourself before the door handle turns. zayne steps inside, eyes sweeping the room in one quick scan. your face is burning, hair stuck to your damp forehead, breathing still ragged. the sheet is twisted and half-off the mattress. your shorts lie kicked off at the foot of the bed. the air hangs thick and musky.

zayne's brow furrows. "you look flushed. breathing's off." his gaze drops to the floor and lands on caleb's shoe. he stares at it for a long second yet doesn't comment on it.

your pulse slams in your ears. "quit trying to diagnose me. i just got emotional about summer ending." the laugh you force comes out too high and shaky.

under the bed, caleb lies frozen, chest tight, trying not to breathe too loud. every extra second feels like torture—why is zayne still standing there? why won't he leave?

zayne takes another step closer. "you sure? your voice is shaky. it's abnormally hot in here." he glances at the closed and fogged up window, then back at the bed. "sheets look like you've been tossing and turning."

you swallow hard, "i'm fine, zayne. really."

he hesitates, eyes narrowing slightly. "this isn't about caleb, right?"

the question lands like a punch. under the bed caleb's whole body goes rigid, heart hammering so loud he's sure zayne can hear it. your stomach drops. you grip the sheet tighter, forcing your voice steady. "no. why would it be?"

zayne studies you for another long moment, gaze flicking between the shoe, the rumpled sheets, and your flushed face. he lingers near the bed, clearly not convinced, scanning the slightly open closet, looking for any other sign of him. the silence stretches painfully. caleb's muscles ache from staying so still. your hands are shaking. neither of you can believe this is still happening.

finally zayne nods, though suspicion still lingers in his eyes. "alright. if you need anything, i'm down the hall." the door clicks shut behind him.

neither of you move for several long seconds. when caleb finally slides out, his face is pale, lips still shiny. you stare at each other, both still trembling.

"that was way too fucking close," he whispers, voice hoarse.

three days. that is all you had left of summer vacation. three days left of sneaking around with caleb. after that you were home free. you still weren't exactly sure what your situation would look like for the fall semester. but it would definitely be easier to visit each other behind everyone else's backs. you should have been more careful after that incident in your bedroom. but you couldn't bring yourself to be.

after taking a dip in the pool, you and caleb giggle through kisses into the side door of the house. in the mud room you were perched on the dryer, legs wrapped around caleb's waist, his mouth hot on yours. the taste of chlorine still clung to his tongue. his hands gripped your thighs, fingers digging in as the machine rumbled beneath you. his lips moving towards the shell of your ear, down to your neck where he rested there nibbling and sucking very obvious marks into your skin. three more days. you could hide them you thought.

neither of you had heard the door open. zayne's voice cut through the humid air like a blade. "what the hell is this?"

caleb pulled back first, breathing hard, lips swollen. you slid off the dryer, heart hammering. zayne stood in the doorway, towel slung over his shoulder, eyes narrowed.

"zayne—" you started.

he didn't let you finish. he wasn't yelling but the sterness in his voice was worse than if he had been screaming.

"i knew it. you've been sneaking around with him all summer? behind my back?"

caleb stepped in front of you, calm but firm. "this isn't what it looks like"

"it looks like you're using her for a quick fuck before classes start again," zayne snapped.

the words stung. you felt heat rise in your cheeks, anger mixing with shame.

"you don't get to decide what this is," you shot back.

zayne's jaw tightened. he turned and walked out without another word, the door slamming behind him.

the rest of the afternoon passed in a haze. you avoided zayne at dinner, the tension thick enough to choke on. caleb stayed close, his hand intertwined with yours under the table when no one was looking.

later that night, caleb found zayne on the back porch. you watched from the kitchen window, stomach twisting as they spoke.

"...how long?" zayne asked.

caleb didn't answer immediately, "for most of the summer."

"and you thought hiding it was the smart move?"

"no."

"then why do it?"

caleb looked down at the porch for a moment, "because i knew how you'd react. i mean you'd never have given us a chance."

zayne laughed once. it wasn't amused.

"shes my little sister. the person i've watched look up to you since she was a kid. so tell me why i shouldn't think she's going to end up hurt."

the words hung heavily between them. caleb took a slow breath, "because hurting her is the last thing i want."

"everyone says that."

"i'm not everyone."

zayne studied him for a long time, "you've had girlfriends."

"i have." caleb admits

"so what makes this different?"

caleb didn't hesitate, "everything. i've known her most of my life. i've spent years trying to convince myself she was just..." he shook his head. "she was just you."

zayne frowned, "what does that mean?"

"it means i told myself she was off-limits. i stayed away because i respected you."

"and now?"

caleb's voice softened, "now i realized staying away didn't change how i felt."

zayne looked toward the lake, "you should've come to me. i would've been angry. but i would've respected you more than sneaking around behind my back."

caleb nodded, "i know."

the porch fell quiet for a few moments then finally caleb spoke again.

"i love her."

the words were simple and steady. no hesitation.

"i don't expect you to be okay with this overnight."

zayne closed his eyes briefly.

"but i'm done pretending she doesn't matter."

a long silence followed. when zayne finally spoke, his voice had lost its edge.

"if you hurt her..."

"i won't."

"and if you ever make me regret trusting you—"

"you won't have to."

zayne looked at him for another moment before letting out a slow breath, "i probably won't like it for a while. but..." he rubbed the back of his neck. "i saw the way she looked at you. i've never seen her look at anyone like that."

a faint smile tugged at the corner of caleb's mouth, "i've never looked at anyone else the way i look at her."

zayne shook his head, "you really had to fall for my sister."

when caleb finally came inside, he pulled you into his arms without a word.

"he gets it now," caleb murmured against your hair.

"i told him the truth. this isn't just summer. i want you."

you looked up at him, searching his face. "you mean that?"

"every word."

a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, "i told him something else."

"what?"

his eyes never left yours, "i told him i love you."

for a moment, the world seemed to stop. you simply stared at him.

"you said that?"

your eyes immediately filled with tears.

"you don't have to say it back," he said softly. "i'm not telling you because i expect anything."

he smiled, warm and impossibly gentle, "i'm telling you because it's true."

a tear slipped down your cheek before you could stop it.

"i think..." you laughed shakily, wiping at your face. "i think i've loved you for a really long time."

his forehead rested against yours.

"i think part of me always knew. i just wasn't brave enough to admit i felt the same. i've wanted this for as long as i can remember. not just the sex—i want want the rest too. waking up next to you. holding your hand in public. having our own family someday. being yours."

he kissed you slow and deep, hands sliding down to your waist, pulling you flush against him. relief flooded through you, warm and bright. you kissed him back harder, fingers threading into his hair. "then let's stop hiding."

he grinned against your lips. "good. because i'm done pretending you're not mine."

outside, the summer night stretched on, but inside the house, everything had shifted. zayne didn't confront you again. intead, he gave you both a quiet nod the next morning—acceptance, which was a start.

the fling had become forever, and it felt exactly right.

the last final of junior year ends with the scrape of chairs against the lecture hall floor and the collective sigh of hundreds of students finally set free. by the time you step outside, campus already feels lighter. people are hugging goodbye. suitcases rattle over uneven sidewalks. someone is blasting music from a car across the parking lot.

it's summer.

you slip your phone out of your pocket while waiting on the front steps, your thumb hovering over one familiar contact — caleb.

the cursor blinks in the chat box as contemplate your message—finally free, can't wait to see you!

no that sounds too eager. delete. maybe—hope your drive to the lakehouse isn't awful.

thats stupid, why would you care about his drive? you let out a sigh damatic enough to earn an odd look from a student walking past.

it has been almost eleven months since you last saw him. not that you've been counting.

last summer ended with caleb wrapping one arm around your shoulders on the dock, laughing at something you'd said before pulling you into a quick hug.

"don't become a stranger, alright?"

then life happened. classes. internships. different schedules. the occasional family group chat. a handful of likes on each other's posts. but nothing substantial.

now you can't decide whether texting him before you see him would make you look excited...or embarrassingly obvious.

your phone buzzes and you groan as you stare at the message

zayne: outside. parked. hurry up.

perfect timing. your older brother is leaning against his suv with one hand tucked into his pocket and an iced coffee in the other. he looks exactly the same as when you hugged him goodbye outside your dorm last fall. neatly pressed clothes. perfect posture. the expression of a man hardened from med school.

"took you long enough to realize i was here" he muttered as you got close enough to him

"you've been here thirty seconds," you say rolling your eyes

you still wrap your arms around him despite his reluctance. zayne returns the hug with one arm.

"you get taller every semester?" he asks.

"your'e the doctor in training, shouldn't you know i stopped growing by now."

before you can reach for your suitcase, he's already lifting it into the trunk.

"i could have done that."

"that’s highly doubtful. you are incapable of packing less than your entire dorm room" he says before adding the rest of your bags and slamming the trunk closed.

the drive out of the city settles into an easy rhythm. you catch each other up on classes, professors, your parents, and whether your mom inevitably forgot something important for the lake house.

once you are on the highway, you get stuck in a perpetual loop of locking and unlocking your phone again.

"you expecting to hear from someone?" zayne asks without looking away from the road.

you huff, crossing your arms, "no of course not."

though you were secretly a bit disappointed. had caleb even thought about you in all your time apart? was he as excited to spend time with you as you were?

silence stretches between you for another few miles.

then, "thinking about caleb?"

your grip slips, and you nearly drop your phone into your lap, "what?"

"you heard me."

"i wasn't...i was just wondering if everyone got there already."

"if you were thinking about texting caleb—don't."

heat creeps into your cheeks before you can stop it.

you sink lower in your seat mumblin, "i wasn't going to text him."

for a while, the only sound inside the car is the steady hum of tires against the highway and soft music blending into the background.

then zayne clears his throat, "and before we get there..."

you already know what's coming.

"the usual rules."

"zayne."

"no disappearing after dark."

"i'm twenty two."

"no swimming in the lake alone."

"i know."

"no taking the boat out without telling someone."

"i know!"

"and if caleb suggests something stupid—"

"he doesn't suggest stupid things." you jump to his defense

"he once convinced you to jump off the roof into the lake."

"we were fourteen."

"you broke your wrist."

"i landed wrong." you laugh, unable to help yourself.

"he'd never let anything happen to me."

the words leave your mouth before you have time to think about them. you glance over at zayne's hands tighten around the steering wheel.

his voice is calm, but there's something unreadable beneath it, "but that doesn't mean i trust him."

your smile fades just enough to hide behind the window's reflection. he has never liked caleb. not really. not beyond years of playful competition that slowly sharpened into something neither of them bothered to disguise anymore.

and yet...despite the teasing. despite zayne's lectures. despite nearly a year apart. in just a few hours, you'll see your caleb again. somehow, that single thought is enough to make the rest of the drive feel impossibly long.

the familiar gravel crunches beneath the tires long before the lake house comes into view. you don't even wait for zayne to put the car in park. the second the engine cuts off, you're already out the door.

"seriously? you have luggage! " zayne calls after you.

"i'll get it later!" you shouted back

"you absolutely won't!"

he's right. you won't.

the screen door bangs shut behind you as you hurry inside, the scent of cedar, sunscreen, and whatever your mom has cooking wrapping around you like a memory. nothing has changed. the old framed photos still line the hallway. the grandfather clock still ticks a little too loudly. someone left a deck of cards scattered across the coffee table exactly the way they do every summer.

"sweetheart?"

your mom appears from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel before immediately pulling you into a hug.

"hi, mom."

she squeezes you once more before letting go, taking a step back to look you over.

"you look exhausted."

"finals will do that."

your dad looks up from where he's pouring himself a cup of coffee.

"made it in one piece?"

"zayne insists on driving exactly the speed limit."

"because that's how speed limits work," zayne calls from outside.

your dad laughs, "good to know i taught him well."

you smile despite yourself, but your eyes have already wandered toward the back deck. toward the wooden staircase. toward literally anywhere that isn't the kitchen.

your mom notices immediately, "you could at least pretend you're excited to see us."

"i am!"

she raises an eyebrow, "then why do you keep looking over my shoulder?"

heat creeps into your cheeks, "i was just...looking at the house "

"uh-huh."

your dad chuckles into his coffee, "let the poor girl breathe, honey."

"no," your mom says, laughing. "come say hello properly before you disappear."

five whole minutes. you answer questions about exams. about your dorm. about whether you're eating enough vegetables.

you swear you've never looked at the staircase this many times in your life. then finally your mom waves you off and you race upstairs.

your room is exactly the way you left it. the same pale yellow comforter stretches across the bed. the same bookshelf tucked into the corner still holds the worn novels you've been rereading every summer since middle school. even the tiny string lights around the window remain untouched.

some places never really change. you set your backpack on the bed before turning slowly in the middle of the room. home for the summer.

a soft knock sounds against the open door. then a familiar voice "hey, pipsqueak."

your heart forgets how to beat. you turn quickly and caleb is leaning casually against the doorframe, one shoulder resting against the wood like he hasn't just completely derailed your ability to think.

he's changed. not dramatically. just enough for you to notice. he's taller than you remember—or maybe he just carries himself differently now. his hair is a little longer. his shoulders broader beneath a faded navy t-shirt. there are laugh lines beginning to settle at the corners of his eyes that definitely weren't there last summer.

he catches you staring, "what?"

you blink, "you look older."

"ouch."

"i didn't mean—" you quickly begin to stutter

"i know."

his grin only grows, "you, on the other hand..."

he lets his gaze travel over you for a few seconds too long before meeting your eyes again.

"still look tiny."

you scoff, "i am not tiny!"

he pushes himself off the doorframe, "no?"

"as a matter of fact, i've matured."

"oh is that what we're calling it?"

you fold your arms, "and seriously? still with the pipsqueak!"

"i've been calling you that since you were ten."

you groan, "i am an adult!"

"mhm...whatever you say"

you narrow your eyes, "if you keep calling me that, i'm telling everyone about the time you fell off the paddleboard because you swore you saw a shark...in the lake."

his smile falters for exactly one second, "you said we'd never speak of that again."

"i lied." you said lightly sticking out your tongue.

"damn...since when did you fight dirty."

"i learned from the best."

for a moment, neither of you says anything. the teasing fades into something quieter. caleb studies your face like he's trying to memorize it all over again.

"it's good to see you," he says, softer this time.

your heart stumbles, "you too."

the words come out almost embarrassingly quiet.

his smile changes, it's warmer. like maybe he'd missed you just as much. before either of you can say another word, footsteps sound in the hallway and zayne appears carrying two of your overstuffed duffel bags with another tote slung over one shoulder.

"you forgot these," he says.

"i was coming back."

"no, you weren't."

he steps into the room, finally noticing caleb standing in the doorway.

they manage a polite greeting and caleb flashes the same easy smile he gives everyone, "need a hand with the rest?"

instead of responding, zayne brushes past him, setting your bags beside the closet with a little more force than necessary.

"next time you are responsible for your own crap." he says slightly out of breath

"no i think i will just get caleb to do it"

caleb chuckles at that before the room falls quiet for a beat. you glance between the boys. caleb is still smiling. zayne absolutely isn't. some things, it seems, never change.

except as caleb catches your eye one last time before stepping backward into the hallway, he gives you the smallest wink. so quick you almost think you imagined it.

after changing into your swimsuit, you make your way down the worn wooden steps toward the lake. the familiar smell of pine trees, charcoal and fresh water hangs in the warm afternoon air.

"well, look who's finally here"

caleb's mom smiles from the grill, an apron tied around her waist.

"there she is," his dad adds. "college hasn't made you forget about us, has it?"

you laugh, greeting them with hugs and chatting for a few minutes. they're warm as ever, asking about your classes, teasing you about how quickly you've grown up.

but your attention keeps drifting. out to the lake. caleb is waist-deep in the water, and when he emerges, he runs a hand through his wet hair. sunlight catches on the water running down his chest.

"everything alright?" his mom asks.

"what?"

"you've been staring at the lake."

you clear your throat, "i was just...thinking about swimming."

"go on," she laughs. "lunch won't be ready for another half hour."

you almost leave too quickly. the lake is cooler than you remember. you barely get waist-deep before—a splash. cold water hits your chest.

"caleb!"

he looks entirely too pleased with himself, "what?"

"you did that on purpose!"

"i have no idea what you're talking about."

"you absolutely—"

another splash.

"oh, you're dead."

"you've gotta catch me first, pipsqueak."

you charge toward him. he backs away, laughing. water flies everywhere. at one point you manage to splash him square in the face.

he wipes his eyes dramatically, "you fight dirty."

"you started it!"

"i regret nothing."

"you will."

you cup your hands and throw another wave of water. he reaches for your wrists to stop you. for a second neither of you moves. his hands remain around your wrists. your laughter fades. you're suddenly very aware of how close he is.

water laps quietly around both of you.

"you've gotten stronger," he says softly.

his thumbs unconsciously brush your skin. with his other hand, the pad of his thumb brushes just beneath your eye, sweeping away a bead of water that had begun to trail down your cheek. his fingers linger just long enough to tuck a damp strand of hair behind your ear.

his eyes search yours for a moment before dropping just briefly—to your lips. when they lift again, something has changed. the easy teasing is still there. but underneath it is something neither of you has ever acknowledged aloud.

before either of you can react—"HEY! lunch is ready!"

zayne's voice echoes across the lake and caleb let's go immediately.

he groans dramatically, "you know... for just one summer, it'd be nice if your brother stopped interrupting me."

"and what exactly was he interrupting?"

caleb's grin turns almost mischievous, "you will just have to wait to find out."

the lake house is quiet by the time the fire burns low. the adults have gone inside. zayne disappeared after claiming he was "actually going to get decent sleep for once."

you're content to sit alone, staring into the flames. the dock stretches out into a lake painted silver by moonlight. footsteps approach behind you. you don't have to turn around. a familiar weight settles over your shoulders. a blanket and caleb is standing behind your chair.

"you looked cold."

"i wasn't." you muttered

he doesn't say anything just grins before sitting beside you, poking at the fire with a stick.

a moment later he holds out a bottle, "beer?"

you take it and clink your bottles together in a silent cheers. for a while, neither of you says much. the silence isn't awkward. it never has been.

"so..." caleb says eventually.

"how's school?"

you tell him the unfiltered version. the one's the grown ups don't get to hear. about professors you hated, friends you've made, parties you were dragged to. he tells you stories from his own campus and eventually the conversation drifts.

"i saw your pictures."

he glances sideways, "oh...which one's?"

you fiddled with your fingers, "the ones with all the girls hanging off you."

he laughs, "oh those ones"

heat flushes your face, as a hint of jealousy rises up, "you looked...busy."

he only laughs harder, "busy?'"

you suddenly regret even bringing it up. but caleb smiles into his beer, "they're just friends."

yeah of course he would say that. there is no way he is the kind of guy willing to settle for a relationship right now.

"and none of them were my girlfriend."

despite your thoughts, you hate how relieved you feel.

"what about you? you seeing anyone?" he asks.

you shrug, "not really."

he tilts his head, "what about...hookups?" he asks nonchalantly

you nearly choke on your drink, "caleb! you can't just ask people that!"

"sure i can."

you hide behind your beer bottle suddenly feeling very exposed, "there've been...a couple"

his eyebrows rise, "a couple?"

you groan, "i'm not answering follow-up questions."

"i wasn't going to ask how many." he throws his hands up

"you were thinking about it."

"yeah you're right i was."

you laugh despite yourself.

he leans back in his chair, "so what qualifies as a hookup?"

you cover your face, "oh my god."

you stand, hoping movement will hide how warm your face has become.

"i'm going to bed."

"so soon?"

"it's late."

you take one step then feel gentle fingers close around your wrist. caleb's grip isn't firm. just enough to make you look back.

"stay a little longer."

his voice is quieter now. the teasing is gone. and it's just him. looking up at you in the firelight. waiting. you look down at his hand. then back at him. those purple eyes shining, silently pleading you not to go.

you have to will yourself to say, "...i should go."

he doesn't let go immediately, "why?"

you swallow, "because if i stay..." you laugh nervously, "i think this is going to get complicated."

you say it more to yourself than to him but he still hears you. his expression changes. more serious than you've ever seen it before he releases you.

"maybe it already is."

the next morning you sluggishly come downstairs a little late, hoping to avoid everyone...well, just caleb. much to your dismay he is already sitting at the dining table, coffee cup in hand. bags under his eyes. maybe he didn't sleep well either?

the second your eyes meet across the kitchen, you both look away a little too quickly.

"so what does everyone plan on doing today?" you ask no one in particular

immediately everyone starts pairing off. your mom and caleb's mom want to stay behind to read and relax. the dads and zayne are going fishing. which just leaves you and caleb.

"we could take the jet ski's," he suggests

before you or anyone else can respond—"no." the word comes from zayne so quickly it almost overlaps yours.

caleb leans back in his chair, looking entirely too amused, "didn't realize i was asking your permission."

"you weren't."

"so why are you answering?"

"because my sister's involved."

you let out an exasperated sigh, "i'm sitting right here. i can decide for myself."

"i know."

"then why are we having this conversation?"

zayne levels caleb with a look.

"because every time the two of you are together, one of you comes back soaking wet, sunburned, or with a story that starts with, 'you won't believe what happened.'"

caleb grins, "in my defense, those are usually good stories."

"they build hospital bills."

a laugh escapes you before you can stop it.

"zayne," your dad says, shaking his head, "they're adults."

"they're adults who share one brain cell."

your mom smiles into her coffee, "they've been riding those jet skis since they were kids."

"and caleb knows this lake better than anyone," his dad adds. "they'll be fine."

zayne's jaw tightens. for a moment, you think he might actually argue. instead, he sighs, "stay where people can see you."

"we will," you promise.

down at the dock, you put on your lifejacket and silently stand off to the side watching caleb prepare the jet ski.

before you get on he reaches over to tighten one of the straps because that had gotten twisted. his fingers sliding down your arms lingering there for you aren't sure how long.

"you remember how to hold on?"

"i think so."

"you think?"

"i haven't been on one since last summer."

he grins, "i guess you'll have to trust me."

as he accelerates, you instinctively grab his waist. your cheek is close enough to his shoulder to smell his sunscreen.

he smiles to himself because he can feel your grip tighten every time he takes a sharp turn.

eventually he slows down in a secluded cove. the water is perfectly still and there is no one else around.

you let go of him, "you did that on purpose."

"what?"

"the turns."

"i have no idea what you're talking about."

"you absolutely wanted me to hold onto you."

he looks over his shoulder with the cockiest smile imaginable, "did it work?"

heat rushes to your cheeks, "you're unbelievable."

"i'll take that as a yes."

"i grabbed you because I didn't want to fall off!"

caleb laughs quietly before cutting the engine completely. the sudden silence settles around you. the jet ski rocks gently with the movement of the water. the cove is secluded, hidden by tall pines that wrap around the shoreline. it feels like the rest of the lake has disappeared.

"you haven't changed at all."

his smile softens, "i don't know." he looks out across the lake for a moment before speaking again, "i think we both have. i used to think college would make it easier," he says.

"easier?"

"being away."

you frown, "it didn't?"

he shakes his head, "at first, sure. classes kept me busy. practice kept me busier."

he glances back at you, "but then i'd see something that reminded me of you."

your breath catches, "like what?"

"i don't know." he shrugs. "a song you'd probably make fun of. someone reading one of those fantasy books you're always trying to get me to borrow."

"you still haven't read them. you promised!"

"i did."

"you liar!"

"i'll read one this year."

you laugh quietly, "i'll believe it when i see it."

he smiles, "i'd check your instagram every couple of weeks."

"you did?"

"i wanted to see what you were up to."

"i thought you were too busy."

"i was." he looks down at the water, "didn't stop me."

you don't know what to say. so you choose to say nothing.

"i always liked seeing you smiling."

your heart stumbles.

"you looked...happy."

"i was."

"good. i just..." he rubs the back of his neck, suddenly looking far less confident than usual.

"i wish we'd talked more."

you look at him, "so why didn't we?"

he lets out a quiet breath, "i kept thinking i'd call after my exams. then after practice. then after midterms."

you smile knowingly.

"and suddenly it was may and i figured..." he chuckles softly. "it would've been weird to randomly text you after disappearing for months."

"i would've answered. i would've been happy you texted."

his eyes meet yours, "...yeah?"

"yeah."

a smile slowly spreads across his face, "i guess we're both kind of idiots."

you laugh, "i was literally debating whether to text you before we left campus."

he raises an eyebrow, "were you?"

"i typed out, like...four different messages."

"and?"

"i deleted all of them."

he laughs, "i almost texted you too. i had this whole thing written out."

"what did it say?"

he thinks for a second, "i don't remember exactly."

"liar."

"i guess you will never know."

you shake your head, smiling to yourself. before you can think of a reply—BWAAAMP. the sharp blast of a boat horn echoes across the lake. you both turn toward the sound. in the distance, one of the fishing boats bobs near the mouth of the cove.

a familiar voice carries over the water, "YOU TWO DONE SIGHTSEEING?" zayne.

caleb closes his eyes for a second, "...of course."

you bite your lip to keep from laughing.

"he has impeccable timing."

"i was going to say terrible timing."

"he'll never let us hear the end of this."

"he never lets me hear the end of anything."

Another blast of the horn.

"CALEB!"

"yeah, yeah!" caleb calls back. "we're coming!"

he starts the engine again, the roar breaking the quiet between you.

the rest of the afternoon passes in a blur. or maybe you're the blur. you shower to rinse away the lake water, but your fingers pause against your cheek for just a second too long, remembering how caleb's thumb had brushed away the droplets clinging to your skin just a day ago.

ridiculous. you shake the thought away. after changing into an oversized T-shirt and a pair of shorts, you spend some time helping your mom slice fruit for lunch before wandering outside with a book tucked beneath your arm.

the hammock sways gently between two old oak trees. usually, this is your favorite part of summer. no classes. no deadlines. just the rhythmic creak of the hammock and the sound of the lake lapping against the shore.

you open your book. read the same sentence three times. turn a page. realize you have no idea what you just read. with a sigh, you let the novel rest against your chest and stare up through the canopy of leaves instead.

this is bad. really bad. you'd had a crush on caleb for years. that part wasn't new. you'd long since accepted that he'd probably never look at you as anything other than zayne's little sister—the kid who followed him around every summer, who laughed at all his jokes, who secretly dreaded the end of august because it meant another year before she'd see him again. you'd made your peace with that. or at least, you thought you had.

but now...now he was looking at you differently. or maybe he always had and you just never noticed. the thought alone made your stomach twist. he'd looked at your instagram. he'd wanted to text you. he'd admitted he wished you'd talked more during the year. those weren't things you imagined.

you close your eyes. maybe he hadn't meant anything by it. maybe you were reading into every smile, every teasing comment, every lingering glance because that's what hopeless romantics did.

maybe—"i always liked seeing you smiling."

you groan quietly, dropping your forearm over your eyes. great. now you're replaying conversations, too. this was exactly why you needed to put a little space between the two of you.

because if you kept collecting moments like this—the way he'd adjusted your life jacket. the way he'd laughed when you wrapped your arms around him. the way he'd admitted he missed talking to you—you were going to convince yourself there was something there.

and if you were wrong...no. you needed to get a grip. he was caleb. your oldest friend. nothing more. you'd survived having feelings for him this long. you could survive one more summer. couldn't you?

by early evening, the sky has traded its brilliant blue for heavy charcoal clouds. a distant rumble of thunder rolls across the lake.

"storm's coming," your dad calls from the dock.

everyone springs into motion. the dads begin securing the fishing boat and tying down the paddleboards before the wind picks up. your mom and caleb's mom hurry to gather books and empty glasses from the deck. zayne is already hauling stacks of beach chairs toward the shed.

"i've got the towels," he calls over his shoulder.

you glance toward the old boathouse sitting at the end of the dock.

"i'll close up the boathouse!"

"good idea!" your dad shouts back.

you jog down the weathered planks, the breeze growing stronger with every step. the old wooden doors groan as you pull one open. Inside, everything smells faintly of cedar, rope, and lake water. you begin rolling up a loose extension cord, humming absentmindedly to yourself.

"you know..."

you jump so violently you nearly drop it.

"oh my god!"

a laugh echoes behind you, "you scare that easily?"

you whirl around. xaleb stands in the doorway, one hand still resting against the frame.

"you almost gave me a heart attack."

he grins, "i came to help."

thunder cracks overhead. before either of you can say anything else—the rain comes. not a drizzle. a downpour. sheets of water crash onto the lake so suddenly the opposite shoreline disappears behind a gray curtain.

caleb instinctively pulls the boathouse door mostly shut. the sound is immediate. rain drums against the tin roof with enough force to drown out almost everything else. for a moment, neither of you speaks. the only light filtering through the windows is muted and silver, making the little boathouse feel strangely separate from the rest of the world.

you let out a slow breath, "i don't think we're going anywhere."

"probably not."

he leans against one of the wooden support beams.

"so...you've been avoiding me."

you busy yourself coiling the rope again.

"i haven't."

"you have."

"i've just been reading."

"you held the same page for twenty minutes."

your head snaps up.

"...you saw that?"

"i walked by."

"and you were watching me?"

a corner of his mouth lifts.

"...maybe."

you look away before he can see the smile threatening to form.

"it's just..."

you search for the right words.

"i don't know."

you sigh.

"every time I'm around you..."

your fingers tighten around the rope.

"...i forget how to act."

the confession hangs between you. the rain seems louder somehow. theres a moment of silence. you can't help but hold your breath. then he says quietly, "good."

a mix of relief and confusion washes over you, "good?"

he steps closer leaving just enough space to give you every opportunity to leave before saying, "because i thought i was the only one."

your eyes flicker from his lips to the door behind him "zayne would kill us."

he smiles, but there's almost sadness in it, "probably."

you move closer to him anyway sealing the gap between your bodies. the kiss isn't desperate. it's slow and careful. your noses slightly bump awkwardly against each other as you grab his shirt nervously. lips moving together, experimenting if you dare to go further.

voices carry through the rain. muffled at first. then clearer.

"...hurry up!"

"grab the coolers!"

"the wind's picking up!"

you and caleb pull apart so quickly it's almost comical. the space between you suddenly feels enormous. you're both breathing a little harder than you should be. neither of you says anything. you don't even know where to look. his eyes. the floor. anywhere but his mouth.

a nervous laugh escapes you before you can stop it.

"...well."

caleb lets out a quiet huff of laughter, rubbing the back of his neck.

"yeah."

"i..." you shake your head. "i don't even know what to say."

"me neither."

for someone who always seems to have a joke ready, caleb looks surprisingly speechless.

his lips curve into a crooked smile, "i wasn't expecting to do that."

"you weren't?"

"i mean..." he chuckles softly. "i've thought about it."

your heart nearly stops, "you've—"

"a lot more than i probably should've."

heat rushes to your face all over again. outside, footsteps splash across the dock.

"they're probably looking for us," you say quietly.

"probably."

neither of you moves.

caleb's smile fades into something gentler, "i've been trying to convince myself this was a bad idea since i saw you yesterday."

a small smile tugs at your lips, "how's that going?"

he lets out a breath that sounds suspiciously like a laugh, "...not great."

you laugh again, this time because if you don't, your heart might actually burst.

"i should go."

"yeah."

"you should too."

"i know."

still...neither of you reaches for the door. another flash of lightning illuminates the boathouse. for just a second, you can see him perfectly. his hair is damp from the humidity. his T-shirt clings slightly to his shoulders. he's looking at you like he isn't quite sure this is real. you wonder if you're wearing the same expression.

finally, he reaches for the door. before pushing it open, he glances back, "so...we should probably pretend that didn't happen."

your stomach drops a little, "right."

"can you do that?"

you look at him for a long moment before answering, "probably not."

his laugh is quiet, "yeah...me neither."

he reaches for your hand. just for a second and gives it a gentle and reassuring squeeze.

you walk back separately. no one notices when you enter in the mudroom, soaking wet, and cheeks flush. no one notices how you look back at him before going upstairs to shower. except...zayne. because he sees the way caleb looks at your form, and his hands clench at his sides. and for the first time...he gets suspicious.

the rain hammered against the windows in steady sheets, the lakehouse dark except for the faint glow of the fridge light as you padded barefoot into the kitchen. your lips still tingled from the kiss during the storm, the memory of caleb's mouth on yours making your pulse race even now. you reached for a glass, filling it with cold water, when a floorboard creaked behind you.

you spun around, heart leaping into your throat. caleb stood in the doorway, shirtless, sweatpants slung low on his hips, his hair still damp from the rain. his eyes locked on yours, dark and unreadable in the dim light.

"couldn’t sleep either?" he asked, voice low.

before you could answer, thunder cracked violently overhead. lightning flashed, illuminating the kitchen for a split second and making you jump. the glass nearly slipped from your fingers. caleb moved fast, closing the distance and steadying your hand with his own. his fingers lingered, warm against your skin.

"you're shaking," he murmured, stepping closer until his chest nearly brushed yours. the air between you felt charged, heavier than the storm outside. his gaze dropped to your mouth, then back up. "is it from the thunder…or from earlier?"

your breath caught. the memory of his lips claiming yours flashed through your mind, and suddenly the space felt too small, too hot. caleb's free hand came up, thumb brushing your lower lip as if testing if the kiss had been real.

"earlier you mentioned those college hookups," he said, voice low and edged with something sharper than casual curiosity. "you never gave me details. what exactly did they do with you?"

your face heated. before you could deflect, his hand settled on your waist, thumb stroking just under the hem of your sleep shirt. he leaned in, lips near your ear.

"did they touch you like this?"

his palm slid up, fingers spreading over your breast. he cupped the soft flesh, then dragged his thumb slowly across your nipple in a deliberate circle. the thin fabric did nothing to dull the sensation. a small sound escaped you.

caleb hummed, satisfied. "was it enough? did it feel good when they touched you?"

"caleb…" you breathed, half warning, half plea.

he didn't stop. his other hand moved lower, slipping beneath the waistband of your shorts to rest against the front of your panties. two fingers pressed gently over your clit through the damp cotton, rubbing in slow, firm strokes.

"answer me," he murmured, mouth brushing your jaw. "did any of them make you this wet?"

your hips twitched forward without thinking. he kept the pressure light, teasing, waiting. thunder rolled overhead again, louder this time. caleb’s fingers dipped lower, tracing the seam of your pussy through the fabric.

"tell me the truth," he said quietly. "are you still a virgin?"

heat flooded your cheeks. you nodded once, eyes dropping to the floor.

"i… was waiting," you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "for the right time. for you."

caleb stilled for a moment taking in your words and then his mouth was on yours again. only this time there was no hesitation. the kiss turned hungry fast, his tongue sliding against yours as he backed you against the counter. his hands gripped your waist, fingers digging in as he pulled you flush against him. you felt the hard line of his cock pressing through his sweatpants, and a soft sound escaped you. caleb swallowed it, deepening the kiss,

you broke apart just enough to gasp for air, but he chased your mouth, nipping at your bottom lip before kissing down your jaw to your neck. "been wanting to do this since the storm," he growled against your skin, teeth grazing your pulse.

he didn't give you time to react. he grabbed your wrist and led you out of the kitchen, both of you moving fast and quiet up the stairs. the moment his bedroom door shut behind you, he had you on the bed, shirt yanked off, mouth already moving down your collarbones to your chest.

his mouth found your breast, sucking your nipple hard while his fingers returned between your legs, two of them pushing inside you slowly. you clenched around him, still untouched, and caleb cursed softly.

"so tight," he muttered, working his fingers deeper, stretching you. "gonna take it slow, but fuck, i want all of you."

he curled his fingers, rubbing that sensitive spot inside until your hips jerked. his thumb circled your clit at the same time, building the heat steadily. when your breathing turned ragged he pulled his fingers free, and stripped the rest of your clothes away and kicked off his sweatpants. his cock stood heavy and flushed between you. he tore the condom wrapper off with his teeth, stroked himself once to put it on, then positioned the head against your entrance, rubbing it through your wetness.

"tell me if it's too much," he said, voice strained, before pushing in.

the stretch burned at first, your body yielding inch by inch as he sank deeper. caleb paused when he was halfway in, kissing you hard, one hand stroking your clit to ease the discomfort.

"breathe, y/n. you feel so fucking good."

the stretch burned. caleb moved slow, inch by careful inch, pausing whenever you tensed. he kissed you through it, swallowing every shaky sound, a hand on your hip rubbing comforting circles to steady you. once he was fully seated he stayed still, forehead pressed to yours, letting you adjust to the full feeling of him.

"you feel perfect," he rasped. "so wet and hot around me."

then he started moving, slow thrusts that gradually built in speed. each stroke dragged against sensitive walls, the friction turning the initial ache into sharp pleasure. his grip on your waist tightened as his pace gradually increased. skin met skin with soft, wet sounds that mixed with the rain outside.

caleb hooked one of your legs higher, changing the angle so the head of his cock rubbed that spot inside you on every thrust. his thumb moving back to your sensitive nub, rubbing faster now, matching the rhythm of his hips.

"you are taking me so well"

his lips met yours again trying to muffle the sweet sounds coming from your lips. as much as he wanted you to scream his name and let everyone know that at this moment you were his, he couldn't have anyone barging in.

"i want to feel you come on my cock," he said against your mouth. "let go for me."

your orgasm built tight and sudden. your walls fluttered around him, then clamped down hard as pleasure crashed through you. caleb groaned, hips stuttering as your pussy squeezed him rhythmically. he fucked you through it, until he buried himself deep and came with a low, broken sound, pulsing hot inside you.

he collapsed half on top of you, both of you catching your breath while he still held you, hands lingering as they found and intertwined with each other. after a moment he kissed your temple, then your lips, slower and gentler than before. outside, the storm continued, but inside the room the only sound was your mingled breaths and the steady patter of rain.

after that night you try to find any reason to be with caleb. with excuses few and far between the weeks slips by in stolen moments that grow bolder each time. you and caleb map each other out whenever the house empties—quick fucks against the boathouse wall, his cock buried deep while you bite his shoulder to stay quiet. long sessions of hands and mouths learn every inch. each encounter leaves you both hungry for more, bodies already familiar but never satisfied for long.

despite your best efforts to remain secretive. you can't help but feel uneasy about your older brother. zayne has definitely started noticing that something is going on. he lingers in doorways when caleb tries to pull you aside. he suggests group hikes right when you planned to sneak off. one afternoon he plants himself between you on the couch, scrolling through his phone while caleb's hand had been creeping up your thigh. the tension builds in silence—caleb's jaw tightens every time zayne appears, but he keeps his expression neutral, voice easy. zayne's glares say everything his words don't.

this evening, though, you find yourselves back at the dock, it creaks softly under your weight as the sun dips low over the lake, painting the water in streaks of gold and deep orange. caleb pulls you closer on the weathered planks, his arm draped around your shoulders while the evening breeze carries the scent of pine and water. he shrugs off his hoodie without a word, draping the soft fabric over your frame before tugging you into his side.

you lean into him, as you voice your own worries about leaving this place behind. you both talk about the next year—your final stretch before senior year, his remaining flight assessments and training hours that keep him tied down longer than most. his free hand finds yours, thumb brushing over your knuckles while he shares his fears too—the pressure of expectations, the uncertainty of what comes after summer ends. he worries about his schedule pulling him away, about how the distance might test whatever this is between you. the conversation flows easy, deeper than stolen touches, binding you tighter with every shared secret.

as the light fades completely, the dock feels like your own world. caleb turns toward you, eyes dark with more than just talk. his lips find yours in a slow press that quickly deepens, tongues sliding together as his hand cups the back of your neck. you melt into the kiss, bodies pressing close. hands roam—his under the fabric to skim your waist, yours fisting in his shirt—as the makeout grows urgent. teeth graze lips, breaths mix heavy, and his tongue explores deeper while you straddle his lap for a better angle. the dock sways faintly beneath you, the only sounds your quiet gasps and the water lapping below.

it builds fast, his cock hardening against you through layers of clothing, your hips rolling instinctively. he groans into your mouth, pulling you tighter until the kiss turns messy, desperate. you have to force yourselves apart, chests heaving, lips swollen and wet. "fuck, we can't... we have to go inside soon," he whispers against your temple, though his hands linger on your hips like he doesn't want to let go.

later that night, the whole group crowds around the big table for cards. your parents and brother laugh and argue over rules while snacks get passed around, completely oblivious to the tension crackling beneath the surface. you're seated beside caleb, his chair pulled close under the guise of strategy talk.

his hand slips beneath the tablecloth the moment the game starts, fingers tracing up your inner thigh with deliberate slowness. you keep your expression neutral, eyes on your cards as his touch reaches into the sides of your shorts. he slowly caresses your folds through your panties before pushing the fabric aside without hesitation, two fingers sliding through to find your clit. the first slow circles make your breath hitch, but you bite it back, focusing on the game while he works to get you soaking.

he chats with your brother across the table, voice easy, even as he sinks one finger inside you. then two. he pumps them in a steady rhythm—thrust, curl, drag—hitting that spot that makes your walls flutter. your pussy clenches around him, getting wetter with every pass. his thumb never stops on your clit, pressing and circling while his fingers fuck you under the cover of the game. you shift in your seat, pretending to reach for a card, but he suddenly adds a third finger, stretching you wider, scissoring gently as the wet sounds stay hidden beneath the laughter and dice rolls.

the pressure builds fast, your thighs shaking. he continues to add pressure, fingers fucking you in time with the conversation, drawing you closer to the edge without mercy. you white knuckle your cards as caleb leans close to your ear to whisper "your turn"

you slam your cards down on the table, as your orgasm shudders through your body, the slick evidence of your arousal coating his hand under the table. the looks of shock are apparent on everyone's faces as you miraculously win the round.

the text arrives while you were out shopping as a group. your phone lights up in your hand, a name from campus flashing across the screen.

your mom calls out from behind your shoulder loud enough for everyone around you to hear, "who's xavier and why is he messaging you?"

you hesitate before answering, looking over to see caleb is preoccupied by a rack of keychains, "just a guy from school."

suddenly zayne appears next to you, "didn't you go out on a date with him? good guy i thought." he isn't saying this so much to your mom as he is inadvertently to any prying ears.

caleb accidentally knocks over the display, causing the keychains to splatter on the floor.

you sheepishly look towards him as you speak, "he is just a friend. nothing more."

the drive back to the lake house is unusually quiet. your mom chatters happily from the front passenger seat about the little bakery she'd found. your dad hums along to whatever old song is playing through the speakers. zayne scrolls absentmindedly through his phone beside him.

in the backseat, caleb stares out the window. he hasn't said a word since the gift shop. the passing trees blur together outside. you glance over, his jaw is tight as one hand rests on his knee, fingers tapping an uneven rhythm against his jeans.

you know him well enough to recognize it - he's upset. carefully, making sure no one in the front can see, you let your hand drift toward his. your pinky brushes his. nothing. you hook your finger around his. he doesn't pull away but he doesn't lace your fingers together like he usually does, either.

a few minutes later, you rest your hand lightly against his thigh. his eyes flick down for the briefest moment. then back out the window. the silence says everything.

that evening, the lake is quiet. the air is heavy with the scent of pine and warm wood and you know exactly where to find him. you enter the boat house to find him standing by the back window. he doesn't turn to look at you though he knows your there. you wrap your arms around him to reach the front of his chest.

"are you going to look at me?"

you feel his entire body flex as he exhales slowly through his nose.

"you don't want me to."

his eyes remain fixed on the lake outside the window.

"talk to me."

silence stretches between you. and just as you are about to change tactics he finally asks—"did you ever hook up with xavier?"

the question is so quiet you almost miss it. he finally turns to look at you. you see it in his eyes then. his wounded expression.

"did you?"

"no!"

he studies your face looking for any sign you might be lying.

"you went on a date."

"yes one date...and we realized we were better as friends."

"that's it?"

"that's it."

he lets out a breath of relief, almost laughing at himself, before it finds itself lost in his throat.

your fingers have moved down from his chest to work his zipper down, freeing his thick cock. it twitches in your palm, already leaking at the tip. you wrap your hand around the shaft and stroke slow, base to head, thumb swiping over the slit to spread the precum. caleb doesn't stop you. his head tips back against the wall, a low groan rumbling out.

you drop to your knees, "i don't want him. i've never wanted anyone else."

your tongue drags up the underside of his cock, tracing the vein, then you take the head into your mouth and suck. caleb's hand finds your hair, not pushing, just holding as you bob lower, taking more of him each time. spit slicks your lips. you hollow your cheeks and suck harder while your hand works the base in steady pumps. his hips twitch forward, cock sliding over your tongue, hitting the back of your throat on the next descent.

you pull off just long enough to speak, strings of saliva connecting your lips to his flushed head.

"only you. only ever you."

you continue your movements as he tries to speak through sighs and groans, "i - i know how stupid this fuck...sounds."

you move off him, "then why are you asking?"

"because..." he shakes his head. "i wasn't there."

your brows knit together but you don't pull off of him.

"i missed every chance someone else had to get to know you."

you don't answer right away. because suddenly this isn't about any hookup or date. it's about time. about distance. about all the moments the two of you never got to have.

"are you jealous?" your voice is muffled but he heard you.

he scoffs, suddenly getting filled with a hint of anger again as he tugs your head forward and you nearly choke out moan. the pain only pushing you further to prove yourself to him.

"i'm jealous of every person who got to be around you when i couldn't."

you sink further down, sucking him deep while your fist twists and strokes what your mouth can't reach. caleb's breathing turns ragged. his thighs tense under your palms.

"i hate thinking about someone else making you laugh."

he laughs softly at himself, "i hate wondering if someone else got to hear about your day before i did."

he looks down for a second watching you take him so well and he nearly cums at the sight.

"and i really hate that the first thing my brain did today was wonder if i'd already lost before i even had a chance."

you speed up, and he cums with a bitten-off curse, thick ropes pulsing over your tongue and down your throat. you swallow every drop, licking him clean until he softens, then tuck him back into his shorts and stand to kiss him slow and deep.

"you never lost."

he swiftly pulls you against his chest, arms tight. "fuck. i needed that."

you slowly rub his back tracing his spine with your nails, "if you're wondering about something..."

you give him a squeeze, "ask me."

he nods, nuzzling into your shoulder. "i can do that."

something changed between you after that day in the boathouse. not all at once. nothing dramatic. the world didn't suddenly become simpler. but somewhere between sneaking around and the confession you'd whispered to caleb, the uncertainty that had followed the two of you all summer quietly disappeared. you'd chosen him. and somehow, that seemed to be all caleb had needed to hear. he smiled more and laughed louder. started reaching for your hand without stopping to think about who might be watching.

then, one morning, you woke to a knock at your bedroom window. you pulled back the curtains to find caleb standing in the yard below, balancing a picnic basket in one hand and grinning like he'd just gotten away with something. he looked entirely too pleased with himself.

you cracked the window open, "what are you doing?"

"kidnapping you."

"where are we going?"

his smile softened, "i want to show you something."

the trail winds deeper into the woods before caleb slows, pushing aside a curtain of low-hanging branches.

"there she is."

you stop in awe, "no way."

nestled between two enormous oaks is the old treehouse. it's smaller than you remember. or maybe you've just gotten bigger. the faded blue paint has long since peeled away, and one corner of the roof sags ever so slightly, but somehow...it still feels like magic.

"you fixed the ladder," you say, noticing the newer wooden rungs.

caleb shrugs, "last summer. it looked like it'd collapse if someone tried climbing it."

"you could've told me."

"i wanted it to be a surprise."

he climbs first, offering you a hand when you reach the top. the inside is exactly as you remember. old blankets folded in one corner. a deck of playing cards missing half its suits. faded marker drawings covering the walls.

you laugh suddenly as your eyes caught something, "oh my god."

"what?"

"you drew yourself with muscles."

"i was manifesting."

"you labeled yourself 'captain awesome.'"

you shake your head, smiling as you trail your fingers across the walls. there are years of memories here. height measurements. inside jokes. terrible doodles. then your eyes catch something tucked into one of the corners. a pocketknife. you pick it up.

"you left this here?"

caleb glances over, "huh i completely forgot about that."

you turn it over in your hands before looking back at the wall.

"you know...we never carved our initials."

he raises an eyebrow, "probably because zayne would've yelled at us."

a mischievous thought crosses your mind, "...maybe we should."

caleb studies you for a second. then smiles, i thought you'd never ask."

he kneels beside one of the support beams, flipping the knife open.

"come here."

you settle beside him. the wood is old and weathered beneath your fingertips.

"what should we write?"

you hesitate then, with exaggerated confidence, you scratch the first letter of your name into the beam. it's crooked but it's yours. he carefully carves the first letter of his own name beside yours. the two initials sit together. simple. small. almost hidden. you stare at them longer than you probably should.

"when i was little..." you laugh under your breath. "this is embarrassing."

"now i definitely want to hear it."

you cover your face for a second, "i used to write your last name after mine."

caleb goes completely still, "what?"

"in my notebooks." you groan. "i was, like, twelve."

a sheepish grin forms on his face, "seriously?"

"it was incredibly pathetic and i'd cross it out before anyone saw."

"how many times?"

"so many." you hide your face in your hands, "i cannot believe i just admitted that."

a quiet laugh escapes him, "i wish i'd known."

the afternoon light spills through the open windows, casting soft patterns across the floorboards. caleb reaches over, gently brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. a gesture that's become so familiar over the last few weeks that your heart somehow still isn't used to it.

"i don't think I've ever..." his thumb lingers lightly against your cheek, "looked forward to anything the way i look forward to seeing you every summer."

he searches your face for a long moment, "i don't know what this is going to look like after summer."

your chest tightens.

"but i know..." he trails off, his eyes never leave yours, "i know i don't want to go back to pretending you're just..."

he shakes his head, unable to find the words. "you're not just zayne's little sister anymore."

the words hang in the air. you can see it in his expression. there's something else he wants to say. something bigger. but he lets out a quiet breath instead.

"...you make me really happy."

you lean forward, resting your forehead against his, "so do you."

as the summer comes to you a close you find yourself in caleb's embrace night after night. after that day at the treehouse you had become less aware of your surroundings. maybe carving your initials into those weathered wooden walls had made everything feel more permanent. more real. it was reckless. you knew that. the problem was...every day you got away with it made the next one seem a little less dangerous. until eventually, neither of you realized just how careless you'd become.

currently caleb's mouth is buried between your thighs, tongue working slow, deliberate circles around your clit while two fingers curl inside you. he's been at it for what feels like forever—bringing you right to the edge, then easing off just before you can tip over. your hips twitch, chasing more, but his free hand presses your stomach down, keeping you pinned to the mattress.

"you're doing so good for me," he murmurs against your soaked pussy, voice low and warm. "taking it so well. fuck, i could stay here all night. never get tired of tasting you like this."

a broken sound slips out of you. recently you had started forgetting to lower your voice. he licks a long stripe up your slit, then sucks gently on your clit again, pulling another desperate whimper from your throat. your fingers twist in his hair, thighs trembling around his head.

"caleb—please—"

he hums, the vibration making your back arch. "not yet, baby. i want to feel you shaking for me a little longer."

his fingers pump deeper, scissoring, stretching, but never quite enough to let you cum. every time your walls start fluttering around him, he slows, kisses the inside of your thigh instead, lets the heat build and fade again.

"want you desperate. want you remembering this every time you think about going home." he bites and sucks a mark that has your back arching off the bed

"this summer…i don't want it to end," he admits quietly, almost like he’s talking more to himself.

"don't want to be apart from you. this—us—feels like everything i've ever wanted. just wish i'd said something sooner."

your breath hitches. the sudden confession hit somewhere deeper than the pleasure, but before you can answer, a sharp knock rattles the door.

"you good in there?" zayne's voice cuts through the haze. "sounded like you were crying."

your body goes rigid. caleb yanks his fingers out so fast it punches a gasp from your throat. he wipes his mouth on his arm, eyes wide with panic, and the two of you scramble at once. your hand snatches the sheet up to your chest while he drops to his knees and rolls under the bed in one clumsy motion. his shoulder slams against the floor, one shoe stays behind near the dresser.

you barely get the sheet over yourself before the door handle turns. zayne steps inside, eyes sweeping the room in one quick scan. your face is burning, hair stuck to your damp forehead, breathing still ragged. the sheet is twisted and half-off the mattress. your shorts lie kicked off at the foot of the bed. the air hangs thick and musky.

zayne's brow furrows. "you look flushed. breathing's off." his gaze drops to the floor and lands on caleb's shoe. he stares at it for a long second yet doesn't comment on it.

your pulse slams in your ears. "quit trying to diagnose me. i just got emotional about summer ending." the laugh you force comes out too high and shaky.

under the bed, caleb lies frozen, chest tight, trying not to breathe too loud. every extra second feels like torture—why is zayne still standing there? why won't he leave?

zayne takes another step closer. "you sure? your voice is shaky. it's abnormally hot in here." he glances at the closed and fogged up window, then back at the bed. "sheets look like you've been tossing and turning."

you swallow hard, "i'm fine, zayne. really."

he hesitates, eyes narrowing slightly. "this isn't about caleb, right?"

the question lands like a punch. under the bed caleb's whole body goes rigid, heart hammering so loud he's sure zayne can hear it. your stomach drops. you grip the sheet tighter, forcing your voice steady. "no. why would it be?"

zayne studies you for another long moment, gaze flicking between the shoe, the rumpled sheets, and your flushed face. he lingers near the bed, clearly not convinced, scanning the slightly open closet, looking for any other sign of him. the silence stretches painfully. caleb's muscles ache from staying so still. your hands are shaking. neither of you can believe this is still happening.

finally zayne nods, though suspicion still lingers in his eyes. "alright. if you need anything, i'm down the hall." the door clicks shut behind him.

neither of you move for several long seconds. when caleb finally slides out, his face is pale, lips still shiny. you stare at each other, both still trembling.

"that was way too fucking close," he whispers, voice hoarse.

three days. that is all you had left of summer vacation. three days left of sneaking around with caleb. after that you were home free. you still weren't exactly sure what your situation would look like for the fall semester. but it would definitely be easier to visit each other behind everyone else's backs. you should have been more careful after that incident in your bedroom. but you couldn't bring yourself to be.

after taking a dip in the pool, you and caleb giggle through kisses into the side door of the house. in the mud room you were perched on the dryer, legs wrapped around caleb's waist, his mouth hot on yours. the taste of chlorine still clung to his tongue. his hands gripped your thighs, fingers digging in as the machine rumbled beneath you. his lips moving towards the shell of your ear, down to your neck where he rested there nibbling and sucking very obvious marks into your skin. three more days. you could hide them you thought.

neither of you had heard the door open. zayne's voice cut through the humid air like a blade. "what the hell is this?"

caleb pulled back first, breathing hard, lips swollen. you slid off the dryer, heart hammering. zayne stood in the doorway, towel slung over his shoulder, eyes narrowed.

"zayne—" you started.

he didn't let you finish. he wasn't yelling but the sterness in his voice was worse than if he had been screaming.

"i knew it. you've been sneaking around with him all summer? behind my back?"

caleb stepped in front of you, calm but firm. "this isn't what it looks like"

"it looks like you're using her for a quick fuck before classes start again," zayne snapped.

the words stung. you felt heat rise in your cheeks, anger mixing with shame.

"you don't get to decide what this is," you shot back.

zayne's jaw tightened. he turned and walked out without another word, the door slamming behind him.

the rest of the afternoon passed in a haze. you avoided zayne at dinner, the tension thick enough to choke on. caleb stayed close, his hand intertwined with yours under the table when no one was looking.

later that night, caleb found zayne on the back porch. you watched from the kitchen window, stomach twisting as they spoke.

"...how long?" zayne asked.

caleb didn't answer immediately, "for most of the summer."

"and you thought hiding it was the smart move?"

"no."

"then why do it?"

caleb looked down at the porch for a moment, "because i knew how you'd react. i mean you'd never have given us a chance."

zayne laughed once. it wasn't amused.

"shes my little sister. the person i've watched look up to you since she was a kid. so tell me why i shouldn't think she's going to end up hurt."

the words hung heavily between them. caleb took a slow breath, "because hurting her is the last thing i want."

"everyone says that."

"i'm not everyone."

zayne studied him for a long time, "you've had girlfriends."

"i have." caleb admits

"so what makes this different?"

caleb didn't hesitate, "everything. i've known her most of my life. i've spent years trying to convince myself she was just..." he shook his head. "she was just you."

zayne frowned, "what does that mean?"

"it means i told myself she was off-limits. i stayed away because i respected you."

"and now?"

caleb's voice softened, "now i realized staying away didn't change how i felt."

zayne looked toward the lake, "you should've come to me. i would've been angry. but i would've respected you more than sneaking around behind my back."

caleb nodded, "i know."

the porch fell quiet for a few moments then finally caleb spoke again.

"i love her."

the words were simple and steady. no hesitation.

"i don't expect you to be okay with this overnight."

zayne closed his eyes briefly.

"but i'm done pretending she doesn't matter."

a long silence followed. when zayne finally spoke, his voice had lost its edge.

"if you hurt her..."

"i won't."

"and if you ever make me regret trusting you—"

"you won't have to."

zayne looked at him for another moment before letting out a slow breath, "i probably won't like it for a while. but..." he rubbed the back of his neck. "i saw the way she looked at you. i've never seen her look at anyone like that."

a faint smile tugged at the corner of caleb's mouth, "i've never looked at anyone else the way i look at her."

zayne shook his head, "you really had to fall for my sister."

when caleb finally came inside, he pulled you into his arms without a word.

"he gets it now," caleb murmured against your hair.

"i told him the truth. this isn't just summer. i want you."

you looked up at him, searching his face. "you mean that?"

"every word."

a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, "i told him something else."

"what?"

his eyes never left yours, "i told him i love you."

for a moment, the world seemed to stop. you simply stared at him.

"you said that?"

your eyes immediately filled with tears.

"you don't have to say it back," he said softly. "i'm not telling you because i expect anything."

he smiled, warm and impossibly gentle, "i'm telling you because it's true."

a tear slipped down your cheek before you could stop it.

"i think..." you laughed shakily, wiping at your face. "i think i've loved you for a really long time."

his forehead rested against yours.

"i think part of me always knew. i just wasn't brave enough to admit i felt the same. i've wanted this for as long as i can remember. not just the sex—i want want the rest too. waking up next to you. holding your hand in public. having our own family someday. being yours."

he kissed you slow and deep, hands sliding down to your waist, pulling you flush against him. relief flooded through you, warm and bright. you kissed him back harder, fingers threading into his hair. "then let's stop hiding."

he grinned against your lips. "good. because i'm done pretending you're not mine."

outside, the summer night stretched on, but inside the house, everything had shifted. zayne didn't confront you again. intead, he gave you both a quiet nod the next morning—acceptance, which was a start.

the fling had become forever, and it felt exactly right.