Romance

The rooftop remained silent, the night air cool against the heat of their bodies. No one saw or heard anything, yet the space between them had become thick with everything they hadn't been able to say until now. It was as if every touch, every kiss, every heated moment between them had built up over weeks of quiet longing and unspoken desire.

Fadel's hands were rough, urgent as he pulled Kant closer, not caring about anything but the connection between them. The way their bodies moved together was desperate, hungry—a raw need they both couldn't ignore. There was no grace, no carefulness; there was only the overwhelming craving to finally bridge the distance they had both kept so carefully.

When it was over, they both lay there, breathless and tangled, the world around them forgotten. Kant was in Fadel's arms, his body marked in ways that spoke volumes of the intensity of what they had shared—bruises, hickeys, the remnants of their frantic urgency. Fadel wasn't much better. His lips were swollen, bitten, the evidence of their passion etched into every inch of his skin. Their connection was still palpable, thick in the air, but now it was softer, quieter.

Neither of them spoke for a while, both lost in the weight of what had just happened. The rooftop, though silent, had witnessed everything—the confusion, the longing, the release. They lay there, tangled together, still processing the emotions they had just shared, unsure of what came next but knowing, at least for now, that everything had shifted.

Kant's POV

The silence of the rooftop continued to follow them as they descended the stairs, the weight of the night still hanging heavy in the air. Fadel's hand brushed against mine, and I couldn't help but notice how natural it felt, the way our fingers seemed to gravitate toward each other even when there was no need for words. It felt like the calm after the storm, a quietness that was almost deafening, but there was something comforting about it too.

We didn't speak much as we made our way back. The city lights blurred by the adrenaline and confusion of what had just happened, and yet, for the first time in weeks, I didn't feel lost. I felt... anchored, like I had something to hold onto. Or maybe it was the other way around. Maybe it was Fadel who had anchored me.

When we got home, the familiar hum of the apartment was strangely differently charged, almost like it too could sense what had just transpired. Bison and Style were lounging in the living room, seemingly at ease, until they noticed us walking in. The air shifted immediately, and for a moment, I almost felt like an intruder, though that feeling quickly dissipated when Fadel gave me a look, the kind of unspoken invitation that made me feel like I was allowed, like I belonged there.

And then, without a word, I followed him into his room. It was a strange feeling, stepping across that threshold, as if everything had led to this moment—this quiet admission, this change that neither of us was ready to confront fully but was already happening, nonetheless.

Bison and Style sat back, exchanging glances, clearly taken aback by the turn of events. They didn't say anything, but I could feel the weight of their attention on us. And yet, their surprise wasn't entirely negative. There was something else there, a quiet sense of understanding, of happiness for us—something I hadn't expected. They weren't judging. If anything, they seemed relieved.

I couldn't bring myself to look back as Fadel closed the door behind us. The room felt small in the best way, like it was just for us, a space where we could finally breathe and figure out what had just happened without the weight of the world pressing down on us. Fadel didn't say anything as he sat on the bed, but I could feel the question in the air, hanging between us.

What now?

But I didn't need to say anything. I didn't need to ask. We both knew. For once, there was no running, no hiding. There was just this—this moment where everything was simpler than it had been before. Where maybe, for the first time, I could just let myself be.