Before you could ask, he sat down on the stretching bench and pulled his sock off.

Just above his ankle bone was fresh ink that caught the light from overhead—a small jelly-shaped smear, plum in color.

“No fucking way,” you breathed.

“Yup,” he said, proud. “You got peanut butter, and I got jelly. Consider our promise fulfilled.”

You found yourself crouching down, tracing the clean lines with your eyes. It looked tender and a little swollen—he had obviously just gotten it done.

“You really did it.”

“Of course I did,” he replied in a hushed tone. “Can’t let you soak up all the nostalgia.”

You were shocked, to say the least. It had only been a week since you both lost control in the sauna. Neither of you had said a word to each other or asked what happened next. You both were scared to be the person to rename the friendship you both had for over ten years. You texted a few times daily. Nothing too serious just morning check-ins and silly memes. You had a sinking feeling it was a one-time thing—both of you scratching an itch.

This new development was for sure easing your mind.

He extended his leg next to yours. Both tattoos sat level, reflections perfectly mirroring them in the big mirror across the studio—the peanut butter and the jelly next to each other again. He unlocked his phone and snapped a couple of photos of your ankles, angling it sideways to highlight the matching tattoos.

For a moment, neither one of you spoke. The quiet hum of the vents and faint echo of your heartbeats in unison hung in the still air of the sign-in area.

"You’re such a ridiculous ass, nigga,” you remarked, smiling anyway.

“Maybe,” he replied, looking from your ankle to your eyes. “But now, we match."

You tried to laugh, but the laugh choked somewhere in your throat. The mirror made you and Cameron feel closer together; the two of you, the years apart, and all the things that didn't get said after the sauna that night.

“You sure it's healed enough to be in a gym?" you teased with a thin voice.

"Guess you’ll have to check for me," he murmured, and then, almost under his breath, he added, “You know this means you’re my girlfriend now, right?”

You looked up, half-laughing, and your heart kicked so hard it almost hurt.

"That’s funny, 'cause I don’t remember you askin’ me to be your girlfriend."

He swallowed hard, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Alright then." He leaned forward, eyes steady on yours. "Will you be my girlfriend?"

You blinked at him, warmth flooding from your chest to the tips of your fingers.

“Yes,” you said, and it landed softer than you intended.

He grinned like a man who just found his footing after a lifetime of running too fast. You stood, and he did too; before either of you could think, his arms slid around you, and he pressed his mouth to yours in a kiss. It wasn’t rushed or hesitant; it was just right.

He laughed, that deep, infectious sound that you loved so much. You left him to his weights and music, heading towards the back.

The early-2000s hip-hop thumped low and steady in the empty gym. The kind of bass that should've driven the rhythm. Cam tried to run through curls, presses, and squats. Literally anything to keep his mind from roaming, but it didn't work.

With every lift and with every breath, flashes of your smile when you said yes came back in his mind. The way your fingers had felt clutching at his shoulders in the sauna last week when he was deep in it. The way his name had sounded softer coming out of your mouth now that you were officially his.

He racked the dumbbells and stared at his reflection in the wall-length mirror. Same body, same face, same sweat, yet it all felt rewired somehow.

“Focus, nigga," he muttered, shaking his head. "Weights now, Y/N later."

The next set was sloppy; his grip wasn't as strong. He threw in the towel after the third set, set the weights down with a bang, and leaned against the bench, breathing heavily for reasons other than pushing his last set.

Down the hall, light from your lamp spilled out of the cracked doorway.

You sat at your desk, your pencil tapping lazily against the edge of an open ledger with numbers smearing together in front of you. You had been trying to balance the books for twenty minutes and still had not written a line that added up. It wasn't the math. It was the way your chest kept catching when you thought of how Cam asked you to be his girlfriend—simple, honest, and no hesitation once he started.

After a decade of friendship, it felt rejuvenating to finally have the answer spoken out loud.

You glanced at the mirror across from the steel desk, caught your own reflection, and smiled without meaning to.

Cameron stopped right outside your office door. He paused for a moment, his hand hovering over the knob. From your desk, you could hear his sneakers scuffing the floor before he knocked lightly.

"Door's open, Cam," you called, feigning casualness.

He leaned against the frame once he pushed the door open, towel slung around his neck, a sheen of sweat still clinging to him. The look in his eyes was the same one he got before a big game—focused, but nervous underneath.

“Everything okay, baby?” you asked.

"Yeah," he said, his voice low. "Just…god, I missed you so fuckin’ much this week."

That earned him a smile you couldn't hide.

“You fucked me stupid in my sauna five nights ago.”

“I know, baby,” he said, stepping inside. “I just—I kept thinkin’ about you, about us. About how wild it is that it finally happened…after 11 years of repressed feelings and stolen glances.”

You slammed down the ledger, heart racing.

“I’m not ‘gon even lie, Cam,” you sighed deeply. “It feels good as hell to finally admit the truth.”

He stopped beside your chair, close enough that the heat radiating from his body blurred into yours. The two of you stood framed in the amber desk lamp; your reflections were only a breath apart.

“You know,” he said, almost a whisper, “I tried to work out, but it’s kinda hard when all I can think about is you.”

You met his eyes in the glass, your reflection quaking with a smile. "You tryna say that I'm the reason you couldn't finish those godawful elevated goblet squats?"

He reached out and stroked a stray curl from your temple with his thumb.

"Need you," he murmured softly. "I miss those needy sounds you make when I'm deep in that pussy."

You bit your lip, barely suppressing a needy moan when your thighs clenched. "Cam—"

"Since I didn't get to last week, I’m gonna eat that pussy, and then I'm gonna fuck you on this desk. Any questions before we get started?"

"Fuck no."

You gathered the loose paperwork scattered across your desk and placed the stack in a Manila folder. You tucked the folder in a drawer as you stood from your chair, and he quickly moved it out of the way. His hands hooked under your arms and lifted you onto your desk.

He kneeled down and removed your tennis shoes and socks. He kissed your tattooed ankle one, two times, before gripping the hem of your gym shorts and pulling them down along with your panties.

He tossed them aside, eyes glued to your glistening pussy. His hands gripped your thighs and pulled you to the edge, your legs resting against his back. His nose brushed your clit, and you held your breath.

He slowly and deliberately flicked his tongue up your wet slit, tasting you for real this time.

“Mmm,” he hummed, repeating the tongue motion once more before asking. “You know what you taste like?”

“If you say some lame-ass shit like the pink starburst I swear to—”

He chuckled softly, cutting you off before your rant spiraled deeper. “—Mine, Y/N. You taste like mine.”

The way he said it, low, sure, and possessive, had you dripping even more, heart racing towards an invisible finish line.

His tongue flicked up your slit one more time before circling around your clit in tight formations, focusing all his attention on one little spot that made you cry out while your hands gripped the steel desk. His tongue moved back and forth over your hardened nub in such a way that it shot tingles of pleasure down your spine.

“I could spend all day feasting on this pussy.”

A low whine escaped your lips as he slipped not one but two long fingers inside without warning. Your jerk of surprise was pointless because his other hand’s grip on you practically glued you to your desk.

“Cam, fuuuck!”

You tried to take steadying breaths through your nose, but that didn’t help delay the knot in your belly from loosening.

“I’m about to cum,” you moaned in between shorter breaths, looking down at him eating you like he hadn’t tasted a proper meal in months. He didn’t even say anything. He looked up, locking eyes with you as his lips refused to let go of your clit and his fingers were unwilling to uncurl inside of you.

Your eyes fluttered closed and your mouth dropped as you came. The feeling was so intense it rocked you like rough waves during a storm. Your moans and chants of his name bounced off the walls of your office.

“Fuck yes,” he said after removing his fingers and releasing your clit. “Give me that shit.” His mouth trailed down to lap up your new rush of wetness.

He rose up and crushed his lips to yours in a passionate kiss, not giving a damn that you were still trying to catch your breath. You didn’t give a damn either because you kissed him back even harder, tasting yourself as your tongue slipped past his lips. 

You raked your fingers up his back, gathering his shirt along the way, the warmth of his skin underneath your nails. He raised his arms, and you bunched it up and off, throwing it to the floor. He stepped back to kick off his sneakers, shorts, and briefs. Both of you were completely naked now, skin to skin. A sensation you were slowly but surely getting obsessed with.

He gripped his erection, stroking the base slowly while the thick tip teased your sensitive clit. You gasped while his hand explored your smooth back, his thumb trailing down your spine until it rested on your hip.

“Please, fuck me,” you whispered against his lips, unable to take the anticipation anymore.

It didn’t sting as much tonight as it did last week. He opened you up more, and you were prepared for it. Still, he groaned at the problematic way your pussy gripped him.

“Oh my fuckin’ g—Cameron,” you gasped softly when you glanced down and watched your walls stretch around his girthy dick as he inched deeper and deeper until he bottomed out.

“Fuuuck,” he exhaled sharply. “Keep moanin’ my name like that, and this ‘gon be over quicker than it started.”

You failed to suppress a giggle. You wrapped your arms around his neck tighter and leaned forward until your lips grazed his ear.

“Cameron,” you moaned again, softer this time, dragging the n out a few seconds longer than necessary

“Oh, you think that’s funny?” The corners of his mouth curved up and into a little smirk as he watched your laugh break off into a sharp gasp as he pulled halfway out and plunged back in, fucking you deep and hard.

“Yes, yes, yes,” your moans came out raspy, breasts bouncing as he continued fucking you deep. “Don’t stop, please.” You were already so close to the edge.

“You like the way I fuck this pussy?” He asked, hips slamming against yours faster now.

You nodded your head.

“Uh-uh,” he tsked. “Use your words, baby.”

“I—oh fuck—I love the way you fuck me.”

“This pussy mine?”

“Yessss! This is your pussy!”

“Good ‘cause I love this pussy.”

“I established that five minutes ago when you were eatin’ my pussy like it was your cheat meal.”

“Well, establish it again while I’m strokin’ this perfect pussy.”

His words of praise and the way he looked down into your eyes sent you over the edge.

You came with a loud moan, eyes fluttering closed as your second orgasm of the night washed over you. He fucked you through it, unable to decide on where to look, bright eyes flickering back and forth between your face and pussy.

“Goddamn,” he groaned deeply, shifting the angle of his hips slightly before setting yet another ruthless pace. “You take this dick so good, baby —fuck— and you look so pretty while doin’ it.”

You couldn’t even respond. The relentless pace he set damn near knocked the air from your lungs and the crown of his dick pushed against your g-spot over and over. Your mouth fell open in a silent scream.

“Ooooh,” he chuckled, smug grin plastered right back on his ridiculous ass pretty ass face. “I’m hittin’ that spot, huh?”

You still were unable to speak; the choked-off sobs and your pussy getting wetter were answer enough.

He continued, “That’s okay, baby. You ain’t gotta answer. I can tell by the way you’re grippin’ me and that look on your face like you about to cry.”

“Cameron.”

“Y/N.”

“Cameron.”

“Y/N.”

“Cam—I —holy fuck— I don’t think I can cum again.”

“That’s okay because I know you can.”

“Cam—“

“—You need some more help?” He asked, slipping a hand between you to pinch your clit, circling it fast with the pads of his pointer and middle finger. “I got you, baby. Stop holdin’ that shit in.” He bit into your bottom lip and tugged your mouth open, driving his tongue into your mouth, hellbent on devouring you just as roughly there as he was ravishing your soaked pussy.

Thwap. Thwap. Thwap. Thwap.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you cried out, abdominal muscles putting in overtime as you tried to push back another orgasm. Your thighs trembled weakly while hot tears stung the corners of your brown eyes.

What was he trying to prove? To be fair, he fucked you stupid last week, but not like this. It made sense, though, because why would friend dick be the same as boyfriend dick…

“I know you heard me,” he growled into your mouth, swallowing your choked sobs. “Cum on this dick.”

Thwap. Thwap. Thwap. Thwap.

You yanked away from his lips with a boisterous curse, “Fuck!” The third climax ripped through you so hard your vision became spotty for a few seconds. You had blinked repeatedly, chest heaving and throat burning from the harshness of your scream.

“Good fuckin’ girl,” he praised, letting out a sharp grunt as you contracted and pulsed around him, creaming down his length. “Boa constrictors ain’t got shit on this pussy, and I don’t need no peer-reviewed article to prove it.”

You would have burst into laughter right then and there but you were still trying to push through the aftershocks and gather your scrambled thoughts. When you two were in middle school, he had this unbearable phase where he was obsessed with snakes. It was ridiculous how he wouldn’t shut the fuck up about them, especially the anacondas and pythons.

“Look at that,” he crooned, eyes looking down at the cream coating his dick, a sight that would forever be etched into his memory. “This only the second time we fuckin’ and you already cryin’ and gushin’ on my dick.”

You had to swallow a few times to ease the soreness of your strained laryngeal muscles. “Shut the fuck up, nigga.”

“Oh, I’m never shuttin’ up about this, baby.” He promised, tilting his head back as he chuckled. You knew his smug ass wasn’t going to let you live this down. That’s okay. You were already plotting on all the toe-curling ways you could get him back.

His amusement subsided when he leaned forward and cupped your face, forcing you to lock eyes with him. “Your tears and cum belong to me now. Say it.”

“My tears and come belong to you, Cam.”

“Damn fuckin’ right.” He nodded, letting out a satisfied hum as he circled his hips and rocked into you slowly. “You’re gonna have to get used to cummin’ at least twice before I do, Y/N.”

“Camer—“

“—You tellin’ me you don’t like your new girlfriend perks?”

“Hell nah. I ain’t even say no—nothing.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“You better be the one nuttin’ next, nigga, because I can’t cum again. I will pass smooth the fuck out on this desk.”

“Alright, baby,” he snorted softly. “You want me to nut?”

“Yes, please,” you nodded, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as his thrusts sharpened with each passing second. “I th-think you’ve earned it.”

“I’m about to cum,” he warned through a mix of hisses and grunts. “Where—ah shit—where do you want it this time, baby?”

“It’s your pussy, right?” You replied as you cupped his face and pulled him down into a sloppy kiss, his tongue pushing past your lips and curling against yours. “Cum wherever you want to, baby,” you added, once you broke the kiss.

His thrusts faltered, but only for a second. “My girl got a dangerous mouth and a dangerous ass pussy to go right with it.” He let out a low, guttural groan, nostrils flaring and eyes glazing over with so much lust the shade of green in his irises seemed to darken. “That’s enough to stunt most niggas, but nah, not me. That only makes me want you ever more.”

“Good thing you ain’t like most niggas.”

“You know I’m not pullin’ out, right?” He huffed, launching into a rhythm so merciless you had to suck in a sharp breath. He continued. “I’m gonna cum deep inside this messy ass little pussy.”

“Yes, please,” you begged, letting out a shaky breath. “I —mmm— want to feel it. Cum inside me, Cameron.”

His hands gripped your hips so tightly you could feel his nails digging into your skin. He was without a doubt going to leave thumbprints on your skin.

“Shit—I’m about to cum.” Cameron warned one last time, panting harshly and muttering nonsense as he rutted into you erratically, coming so hard he shouted and jerked until a hump in his back made a guest appearance.

The first rope of come that shot inside of you made you jolt right along with him. You would have let out an ear-piercing scream if your voice hadn't already been shot to hell as another climax ripped through your body, surprising you both. The second rope caused the dam to collapse. Tears of bliss roll down your cheeks. The filthy noises you made were so desperate you’d be a tiny bit embarrassed had you not been so far gone.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” a drawn-out whimper fell from his lips as your walls clamped down hard, milking him of every last drop he had.

He collapsed forward, and you fell back onto the steel, unfazed as he rested his weight on top of you. You clung to each other as your heaving breaths calmed. You could almost hear your heart rate settling as the minutes ticked on by.