wonder what you're doing for tonight or forever

---

Kaelix leans against the wall trying not to get caught on the velvet rope, arms crossed over his chest, sunglasses on indoors because that’s just who he is. Bit of a walking cliché in a leather jacket with a poorly hidden soft spot for the way Freo sometimes scrunches his nose when he laughs.

Not that Freo’s laughing right now. But he is smiling. It’s the kind of smile that shouldn’t and probably isn’t flirtatious but it’s also bound to do something to whoever is the recipient of it. Right now it’s Zeal, expertly flipping a cocktail shaker before decanting into a stylish little glass between them.

Kaelix narrows his eyes behind his sunglasses. He tells himself he’s not glaring. Not even a little. He’s just very intently observing. For safety. Crowd control. Totally normal and business as usual.

Zeal laughs at something Freo says (from the looks of it, under his breath)—Kaelix doesn’t hear it, he’s across the room after all, but he does feel it actually. In his bones.

“It’s fine,” Kaelix mutters to himself as he lets someone in after flicking through the contents of their bag and ID briefly. “They’re just talking. People talk. That’s like… a thing. Freo talks to people. We’re all friends here. I’m not insane.”

A nearby livehouse-goer who just got in glances at him warily and gives him a wide berth. That's fine.

Freo’s got one arm on the bar and a stupid cute little smile on his face that makes Kaelix want to donate his entire life savings to making sure he never frowns again. Freo is laughing a little now, with Zeal, who’s leaning with that effortless (but with actual effort—they all know about the back pain) bartender charm, which Kaelix would find somewhat admirable on another day but right now he’s occuppied with conducting a very scientific study titled “Are These Two Flirting or Are They Just Aura Farming at the Same Time?”

Kaelix’s heart flutters despite himself, when Freo's eyes crinkle closed, seemingly pleased about something.

Zeal says one thing or the other back, leaning in to playfully toy with an errant lock of Freo’s hair. Freo tries to bat him away, but he isn’t frowning deeply or at all. Kaelix’s internal organs all simultaneously combust within him.

Then, Freo glances from across the bar, eyes snagging on Kaelix’s for a beat that passes all too quickly.

Kaelix immediately straightens his back like he’s just been crowned the King of Standing. He tries to smile. It might be more of a grimace. He tries for an expression that says “cool and collected boyfriend just doing his job tonight” and not “feral creature spiraling in a leather jacket.”

Freo’s gaze flicks away and he returns to his conversation with Zeal like nothing happened.

Kaelix dies inside. Quietly, at least. With some dignity. Sort of.

“It’s just work,” Kaelix whispers, watching Freo reach over and dust invisible lint off of Zeal’s forearm while laughing at something else. “It’s part of his job. Zeal is helping him get more work! It’s all business and I am sooo chill about it. I’m a chill guy. I’ve literally never been jealous in my entire life.”

“K-chan, are you okay? You look kind of sick,” Seible asks, sidling up to him with the practiced ease of someone who knows how to walk through strobe lights without getting vertigo.

Seible pauses, assessing the scene briefly—Kaelix half at work and half turned to end of the bar counter like his paycheck depends on it and then declares, "Actually, scratch that. I’ve just diagnosed you with down bad and it’s terminal,” Seible says in a faux-serious voice as he puts a hand on Kaelix's forehead.

“You look like you’re one bad synth drop away from marching on over there and shoving Gin-chan into the recyclables tonight.” He adds, although he's smiling when he says this. Typical.

“I’m fine.”

“Mm,” Seible takes a sip of a drink that looks sweet but also shiny somehow. “Does Furi-chan ever tell you you’re cute when you’re jealous? Does he know? I think he should because you are. I can see him being a little into that.”

“I am not jealous,” Kaelix clarifies. “I’m...monitoring”

Seible raises a delicate eyebrow at him. They’re both looking. Zeal says something low, and Freo dips his head to hear better. Kaelix’s left eye twitches and Seible lets out another laugh that sounds dangerously close to a cackle.

“Monitoring how hard Freo laughs while someone else is talking to him?”

Kaelix scowls, too far gone to deny it. “It’s a very cute laugh!!”

“I know, you told me four times at the start of our shift.” Seible affirms him, patting him gently on the arm as if consoling him. “And you know what? I agree.”

Kaelix sighs, holding his hand out to a person whose ID said they were 51 years old when the patron in front of him looked fresh out of high school. The rest of his spiel and questioning follows shortly after and with something taking up his attention now fully that's actual work, Seible takes it as his cue to hit the floor once again.

Kaelix goes through the motions after that: IDs, nodding to the DJ like he’s listening tonight (he’s not), occasionally flexing for no reason (he swears his hands just feel numb). But it all blurs into white noise around the distant buzz of Freo’s presence in the room.

The crowd shows no sign of thinning and on his way out for a quick break he’d planned to take with Seible outside, Zeal leans over the bar and calls out to him, “Hey, Kaelix. I got someone to cover the last shift. Get some sleep.”

Seible says something about him being lucky and saunters off not long after. Kaelix blinks, stunned. “Uh, what? Why?”

Zeal shrugs, eyes dragging over to the seat on the opposite of the bar counter towards the back where Freo’s already collecting his things and shrugging on his jacket. “Freo looked like he wasn’t above dragging me out if I didn’t let you go. Just trying to keep all my bones in tact, you know?”

Before Kaelix can process all of that, there’s a soft tug at his sleeve.

Freodore.

“You heard him,” Freo says, undeterred, although he isn’t quite looking him in the eyes. “Come on.”

Kaelix’s brain short-circuits. “Right now?”

“Yes. Now.” Freo’s hand doesn’t leave his arm. “Before I have to bribe someone else in here.”

Kaelix follows him out, dazed as Zeal waves them off. He lets himself be towed out into the early morning with all the grace of a guy who absolutely does not understand how he got so lucky.

By the time they hit the streets, the neon sweat of the evening has already faded into that bleary past-midnight where people stop pretending they're all glamorous, sexy, sparkly and that they consider the olive in their martinis dinner and at this point just want carbs. Kaelix’s feet ache a bit from standing up for so long and suddenly being so cognizant of his proximity to rest.

It’s a bit quiet, the route to Freo’s place. They’ve taken the same road many times before and as many different people. Co-workers hired to work on the same project, friends, the strange limbo that comes after that when you realize you want to kiss your friend hard on the mouth. Today they are boyfriends of approximately three weeks, four days, and 16 hours.

As they leave the bustling bar-lined street, the city seems to hum in that in-between state where night isn’t quite over yet and there’s still some ways until morning, the air crisp.

Kaelix walks a half step behind Freo, mostly because he’s too busy not staring at the way Freo’s jacket sits on his smaller frame, the way his slender fingers peak out just barely past the sleeves. And by Freo’s jacket, Kaelix means his jacket, the one he'd left at Freo's apartment last weekend. Suffice to say, his mind is once again overtaken with something else, rendering him unable to focus properly on basic motor functions like “walking evenly.”

“So…” Kaelix starts, trying to keep it casual, which means his voice comes out deeper than it usually does. “What was that all about bribing Zeal?”

Freo glances at him, face carefully devoid of much expression save for a mild curiosity lingering at Kaelix’s interest in his dealings at the bar. “Didn’t actually bribe him.”

“Oh.”

“I told him I wouldn’t take the job if he didn’t let you go earlier today. You haven’t been getting a lot of sleep lately.”

Kaelix blinks. “Uh. That’s, you know, technically, a bribe.”

Freo’s mouth twitches. “No. It was a threat.”

Kaelix lets out a laugh that turns into a wheeze halfway through. He clears his throat like he wasn’t just charmed within an inch of his life by something so inconsequential.

They walk in silence for a beat. It’s comfortable, easy, but also, Kaelix feels as if his heart is doing somersaults in his chest like it’s auditioning for a cheer squad. He is 100 percent a hand-holding guy and he has a decent success rate of 85.5 percent—except Freo hand-holding is on a somewhat different level and he’s always felt it required some skill, finesse. Also, right now, Kaelix can see it right there, swinging gently with every step Freo takes, just under those too-long sleeves.

Kaelix reaches out.

Just as his fingers are about to brush Freo’s, his boot catches on a traitorous crack in the sidewalk, and the wet asphalt below seems to rise to meet him like a moist, uncaring god.

“Oh sh—!”

Freo instinctively grabs his arm, both of them stumbling sideways as they try to find their footing. Kaelix doesn’t quite fall thanks to Freo’s death grip on him, but it’s not exactly graceful either. His other foot slides, he does a spin, and somehow he ends up slightly crouched like a sad gargoyle with an existential crisis.

Freo is still holding onto his arm. A moment of silence, and then:

“…You good?” Freo asks, eyes a little wide.

“I’m fine. Thank you,” Kaelix says immediately, face flushed, ego in a small coma. “I meant to test gravity actually ha-ha. It’s still working. We are so back.”

Freo’s lip twitches. “Uh-huh.” It’s in that specific way that makes it clear to Kaelix that he is struggling to tamp how fond he is of him down. Small wins.

Kaelix stands up properly. Then he feels it, Freo’s fingers sliding down his forearm, briefly pausing at the wrist, before lacing gently with his own.

Kaelix stares at their joined hands like the first person to discover religion and find something bigger than himself and this mortal coil to believe in.

Freo doesn't say anything, just keeps walking, tugging him forward like this is no big deal and not the single most important event in Kaelix’s entire romantic history.

They reach Freo’s apartment not long after. It’s quiet and the sky’s still dark outside, it somehow also feels like it’s going to rain at some point.

Kaelix glances at him as Freo unlocks the door. “So, uhm… did you, did you pull the boyfriend get out of jail free card just to get me over here?”

He hopes the way he says boyfriend doesn’t sound like he just wanted an excuse to say it out loud and refer to himself as such. ‘Me, Kaelix Debonair, Freodore’s boyfriend.’

Freo looks up, expression unreadable for a second. Then, he shrugs. “You looked like you were about ready to physically and emotionally combust.”

Kaelix squints. “That’s not…okay, maybe. Yes. But quietly. It would’ve been like a quiet, respectable implosion.”

“…”

“Ha-ha. You got me.”

The door swings open. Freo steps inside, still holding his hand as he leads him into where it smells of coffee and linen and the pleasant scent of the aroma diffuser by the entryway.

“I know,” Freo says, softer now. “That’s why I’m letting you do it here.”

The door shuts behind them with a soft click and Kaelix is already turning to mumble something about raiding his boyfriend’s fridge and sharing any leftovers, but it gets completely sidelined by the way Freo presses into him and kisses him, full on the mouth. It’s rare for Freo to initiate kisses or much anything to do with romance, but it seems like he’s on a roll tonight.

They kiss as they lock up and toe off their shoes. Nothing rushed, not at all showy. It’s a kind of quiet kiss that only Freo can give that says you did good tonight and I missed you all at once without actually having to say it out loud.

Freo’s hands find the sides of Kaelix’s face like he’s done this a hundred times before, like this has always been natural to him and Kaelix wasn’t just mentally preparing to beg for the cold spaghetti and the chocolate cake in Freo’s fridge and spend the rest of their night-morning cuddling on the couch.

Kaelix forgets what food is. Or doors. Or jobs.

By the time Freo pulls away, Kaelix is dazed and leaning into Freo’s space like a dried up plant craving fresh rain.

“Oh,” he says eloquently.

Freo just hums and nudges him further into the apartment with one hand still curled around Kaelix’s wrist. They make it to the bedroom with the fluid ease of two people who clearly are not thinking too hard about how uncool they’re being right now and instead crash backwards into Freo’s bed like they’ve just completed some momentous task.

They settle into the sheets, Kaelix first into the pillows, a soft shuffle of limbs and breath. Somewhere in the apartment, Freo’s cat is snoring under a piece of furniture outside of the room like she pays for the mortgage on this place—which tells Kaelix that the door to the bedroom is still slightly ajar.

But before he can say as much, his shirt is already rucked up at the waist, his sunglasses set down on the nightstand and Freo’s knee is pressed against his thigh. It’s late, and the city is quiet in that rare, generous way like it will hold this sweet intimacy for them like a secret. Kaelix is seconds away from nuzzling Freo’s neck and pulling him into his arms fully, mumbling something about leftover food again, but Freo beats him to speaking first. For once.

“I saw you,” Freo says.

Kaelix stills. His eyebrows twitch up. Freo’s usual steady expression is betrayed by the faint downturn at the corner of his mouth; it gives him away. Not quite a frown. Almost a pout. He’s seated on his own bed almost formally, legs folded beneath him and his hands on his thighs.

Kaelix opens his mouth to gloat about it, but catches himself. It doesn’t land right, not when he is still a little prickled himself. His smugness fizzles. “Saw me what?”

“With all those girls at the door.”

Kaelix’s eyes widen. “That’s! That’s my job—you—you and Ginjoka though?” He narrows his eyes. It’s not accusatory but he’s just equating one to the other. Although Zeal is far from just one of those girls for either of them. He’s a bit disappointed he didn’t strike at the opportunity to unpack that coming from Freo.

There’s a minute shift in Freo’s features, detectable only to people who have the privilege of seeing him up close like this—like he can.

“That was also part of my job,” Freo responds, almost like a challenge. Kaelix audibly grumbles.

To be fair (to, perhaps, Freo more than Zeal), a commission did come in through the man and so much of the evening Freo had to be at the livehouse meant he had to stay the bar either way. And joke around. And field Zeal’s teasing. Ugh.

Kaelix lets this thought simmer. Those things are just part and parcel. He needs different material for this non-argument, and so he gathers the full weight of his pettiness into one final swing:

“You let him touch your hair!!”

It’s practically an outburst, although not quite because he has to keep it down. They’re on Freo’s bed and it’s late. And Freo’s cat is sound asleep. The minute she wakes up it’s over for Kaelix’s ankles when she finds out he was allowed to stay the night.

Kaelix crosses his arms, fully not pouting and not crossing his arms over his chest like a five year old who was told it was past his bedtime. He glances sideways to see if Freo will deny it.

Freo’s smile is small, a bit sly for his liking, but incredibly fond as he inches closer.

Without a word, he uncrosses Kaelix’s arms, gently uncurling one wrist at a time, and places them where they want to go. Freo settles himself on Kaelix’s lap while Kaelix decides and Kaelix, well, simple man that he is, just uses them to help guide Freo there without sparing a second thought to it. His hands move automatically, naturally, nothing quite so daring or boundary assessing, not yet. But they are successfully palms down on Freo’s back like they’ve been waiting all night to be there.

Freo leans in, his voice soft against Kaelix’s ear, “I’ll let you touch everywhere.”

And then Kaelix forgets how to breathe.

Although he remembers how to kiss shortly after.

At first, it’s the same kind of slow, sweet thing from the front door. A warmth drawn out like honey. But then it turns just as quickly and picks up momentum, teeth, knees knocking again, ragged breathing and Freo pressing himself flush against him with his arms around his neck.

It’s the kind of kiss now that forgets it was supposed to be polite and instead gets greedier as time passes—all hands and half-mumbled noises and Kaelix trying desperately to keep up with Freo’s quiet demands of more.

At some point, one of them, maybe both, whimpers. Kaelix won’t admit it, but it’s probably him.

They don’t notice clothes going missing until Kaelix’s jacket is thrown down on the floor and Freo is shirtless, lean and unfair and glowing, like he’s something holy lit up by the one open floor lamp in the room and the faint stroke of moon coming through the blinds. His curls are a mess. His lips are kiss-bitten and just slightly parted. There’s a softness on his face that hits Kaelix so hard his brain simply gives up, he can practically hear the Windows XP shutdown sound in his head. It’s gone. He has no thoughts. Only Freo.

Freo looks at him for a beat, flushed and yet still somehow composed and says:

“The drawer.”

It takes Kaelix a little over half a second to register. His neurons flickering weakly in the dark of his mind. “The…oh!”

And like a loyal, obedient mutt in love, he rolls to the side, Freo still trapped between his legs as he yanks open the nightstand drawer.

There, glowing under the yellowish lamplight like some divine gift, is a single bottle of lube and—Kaelix blinks—so many condoms.

Like. A lot.

Like three boxes in different flavors. One of them already open.

Kaelix stares at them, then back at Freo. Then at the drawer. Then back again.

He lets out a low whistle, grinning wide. “Wow. Ambitious tonight, aren’t we?”

Freo lifts an eyebrow. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

Kaelix gasps, clutching at his chest. “You wound me.”

Freo smacks his arm with no force to it. His fingers linger on Kaelix's skin for a second too long to be really scolding.

“I’m just saying,” Kaelix drawls as he picks up the bottle, waving it like a trophy. “We could break a record. A historic milestone.”

Freo pulls him back up closer to kiss him again, hard, like a dare.

“Alright then, go on,” He murmurs, lips brushing Kaelix’s. “Prove it.”

Kaelix surprises himself with how fast he gets his act together after that. Usually, he’s a little clumsy when he’s this worked up. Too eager, too greedy, too caught up in wanting, but with Freo, it’s different. He slows down without meaning to. Maybe it’s the way Freo watches him, eyes half-lidded and sharp even through the haze. Or the way Freo breathes when Kaelix’s hands settle on his hips, the way he tips his head back slightly when Kaelix leans in to kiss his jaw before trailing lower. With Freo, he wants to savor it.

He’s quiet, this man. But not completely silent.

Freo makes these soft, airy sounds, breath hitching when Kaelix mouths over his stomach, then again when Kaelix’s fingers finally press between his legs, patient and careful.

Kaelix watches his face the whole time. He watches for every little change, the flickers of tension and release, the way Freo’s mouth parts just a little more when he starts opening up around him.

“God,” Kaelix murmurs under his breath, almost in awe. “You open up so…so sweet, Freo.”

He loves the way Freo’s walls come down slowly with it too, almost like Kaelix has to earn it. He opens up around Kaelix with that same careful precision he applies to everything else: deliberate, intentional, and a little devastating. Kaelix would worship at this altar forever if given the chance.

Then, Kaelix blinks, realizes he said that part too, out loud.

Freo’s eyes flick to him, sharp and amused and clear for someone currently being fingered into the mattress.

“…You like working for my affection?” Freo asks, lips curling like he’s trying not to smile.

Kaelix groans, pressing his face briefly into Freo’s thigh like maybe he can disappear into it.

“Oh my god. Ignore me. Ignore me! I’m—” He tries to keep moving, focusing back on his hand, but his voice is going high and desperate. “—I’m literally feral. My brain is gone. I’m running on vibes and whatever I had last at 5pm before opening and the one french fry at the bar before you guys started talking.”

Freo’s hand slides into Kaelix’s hair, threading through the strands and pushing it back away from his forehead. He tugs gently, guiding Kaelix to look up again. His cheeks are flushed now from exertion, but his gaze is soft beneath the amusement.

“You’re fine,” He says softly, and then, after a pause, a little quieter, “I like when you talk.”

Kaelix’s heart does a full flip, lands sloppy. He swears his whole body could combust from just that.

“I’m gonna talk so much worse now,” he promises, breathless. “I’m sorry, but you’ve doomed us both.”

Kaelix kisses him again, and again and again as he fingers him open. When he's not kissing him, he's watching Freo, drowning in the sight of him quiet heaving as the pleasure overtakes him that his toes curl and he's fisting the sheets.

The air is so much thicker now, everything hot and dizzying, almost muggy with their shared warm breathing.

The lamplight casts lazy gold shadows over Freo’s body—his chest rising slow, the slight sheen on his neck, his hair a chaotic halo on the pillow, his damp forehead, the blush high on his pretty cheeks, the way his cock, as beautiful as the rest of him, bobs up at attention, leaking pre-cum against his supple skin. Kaelix wants to say something about how Freo looks like both sin and salvation, but his brain is chewing on drywall and he can’t come up with the words he wants.

He pulls his fingers out, thinking of the next step, of something to occupy his hands with anew, maybe jerk him off and let him come once first.

But Freo—sweet, beautiful, Freodore, of all people says, voice low and breathless:

“How do you want me?”

And just like that, Kaelix is gone.

He makes a noise that cannot possibly be traced to a single known species on earth. His eyes are wide, hands stilled on Freo’s hips as his soul attempts to exit his body through the ceiling.

“I—” he croaks. “What…what kind of question is that?!”

Freo’s smirking now, which is actually a rare, terrifying sight. And it’s almost rude how good he looks doing it even though not 10 minutes ago he was just begging and pleading into his bedsheets.

Freo tilts his head just slightly, gaze hooded as he regards Kaelix. “A simple one. You’ve had about 15ish minutes of prep and I gave you three boxes of options.”

(Kaelix belatedly realizes the reason for the mild case of condom hoarding was so that he could pick a flavor.)

“That’s not fair,” Kaelix mutters, scandalized. “You…you knew I’d be this way! You knew that would fry my brain! You did this on purpose, Freodore!”

“To be fair,” Freo starts to say, with the patience of a man watching someone flail in a kiddie pool, “our actual first time was in the back of your friend’s van and you didn’t seem this overwhelmed then.”

Kaelix makes a strangled, haunted sound. “Ahhh!! We—we weren’t even dating yet then! I didn’t even think you liked me that much at the time. Why would you bring this up now?!”

Freo’s legs curl tighter around him, pulling him forward enough so he can reach up to guide Kaelix down again and catch his lips in a lazy kiss.

“I remember everything,” he murmurs.

And just like that, Kaelix decides that tonight, he’s going to make sure Freo forgets at least a few coherent things. Starting now.

Except, Kaelix doesn’t ‘decide’ so much as ‘launch himself on his boyfriend.’

There’s no clean internal monologue, no moment of grace to lead him into it. At this point, it’s just a fever-brain rush of oh, alright, okay, now as he dives in, his lips on Freo’s collarbone before biting down just enough to make him gasp and arch beneath him deliciously, Freo’s cock brushing against the side of his thigh.

“That’s how I want you,” Kaelix growls into his skin, lips dragging down towards Freo’s chest, tongue circling one pebbled nipple before moving to the other. “Exactly like this. Spread out like you’ve been planning this since last week.”

“I haven’t,” Freo tries, but there are three boxes in his nightstand drawer (strawberry, grape and kiwi??) that say otherwise.

“Liar,” Kaelix mumbles without heat. Neither of them bother to argue it further as Kaelix shifts, lines his cock up, nudging at Freo’s hole teasingly first before he finally, finally starts to press in.

Freo exhales like someone punched the breath out of his lungs but in the most elegant and controlled way possible. His hand flies to Kaelix’s bicep, gripping hard, but not pushing, just grounding himself. Kaelix stays still for a moment, head bent, forehead against Freo’s shoulder, body shaking with restraint he’s only barely managing to maintain.

“You—” Kaelix chokes out, releasing his bottom lip that he was biting to hold back; one of his hands blindly grasps at Freo’s thigh for purchase, “—you feel like you were built to take me, god. It feels so good inside you, Freo.”

“Great. Glad you that you think so,” Freo mutters, although his voice comes out a little ragged, short of breath…which makes sense, all things considered. “But…please move.”

Kaelix makes a noise between a whimper and a laugh, and obeys immediately. Slow at first, like reverence, like apology for the months it took to admit this was something they both wanted. Then deeper, faster, like penance, like desperation, like he’s trying to map out inside, every piece of Freo he can reach.

And Freo, sharp-tongued and steady Freo, unravels beneath him in pieces. Kaelix takes in every shuddering breath, every quiet little noise tugged out from the back of Freo’s throat like a thread pulled loose. His one hand is momentarily tangled in Kaelix’s hair before it drags down on his back, nails leaving tracks they’ll both pretend not to notice later (or at least after Freo has gotten any ointment on them).

Kaelix never wants it to end. He wants to stay inside him until the sun rises and then burns out again for the day. He wants to get worse about this every single day of his life.

“I like you,” he gasps suddenly.

He just says it. Raw. Out of nowhere. “I like you so much, Freo, it might actually ruin my whole life.”

Freo opens his eyes, paradoxical in them being impossibly clear yet unreadable, and looks at him like of course you do, then kisses him like he doesn’t mind being the reason for it.

Kaelix thrusts in earnest, sloppy, unfocused now, mouth slightly ajar as his brain can only really process Freo’s tight warmth and the all-consuming feeling of his emotions catching up to him alongside it.

It’s mid-thrust when it happens.

He’s got one hand braced by Freo’s head, clutching at a pillow, the other squeezing somewhere near Freo’s waist to help him arch his back better, and Kaelix is saying something ridiculous as usual. Probably incoherent praise and possibly something like “You are so pretty it makes me dumb,” because he’s nothing if not consistent in his spiral.

That’s when Freo interrupts it all with one quiet, almost earth-shattering statement, tells him, “I love you too.”

Kaelix freezes. Physically, emotionally, spiritually.

He blinks. His brain hits a full, mechanical halt. Screeching tires and all.

“Wh—” he chokes, the sound coming out strangled and deeply unsexy. “What—wait, did you—what did you say??”

Kaelix is actively malfunctioning. “That’s not what I said?!”

Freo, bafflingly calm, just shrugs a little from beneath him. “Close enough. I know that’s what you meant.”

“CLOSE ENOUGH?!” Kaelix’s voice goes up a full octave as the weight of what’s just happened hits him like an emotional freight train mid-sex. He’s still inside the man. He’s sweating. He might be weeping. He is so unprepared for this moment.

But also, Freo isn’t wrong about that either. It’s hard to argue with logic, especially when that logic is wearing absolutely nothing and is near fucked out on the mattress beneath you after confessing his love to you verbally with your cock inside him.

Freo lets out a sound of mild discomfort because Kaelix has not moved, not pulled out, not even shifted in 30 whole seconds and is still, unfortunately, in love and balls-deep.

“I’m gonna cry,” Kaelix says out loud. “Like genuinely. I’m gonna—I’m…why would you—what kind of setup was that?!”

Freo blinks, utterly unbothered. “You said you’d let me ruin your life. That sounded like a declaration.”

“That was melodrama!” Kaelix nearly sobs. “That was horny-tier poetry affection. Yours was…something?? My cock is literally still inside you!”

Freo’s lips twitch, just barely. His hand comes up to gently cup Kaelix’s flushed, overwhelmed face, thumb brushing under his eye like he knew this would happen and is, somehow, fine with it.

“Don’t stop,” he says simply. “You’re allowed to cry and fuck me at the same time. I’m not going to judge…often.”

Which is so outrageous and hot and deeply romantic that Kaelix lets out a choked laugh that borders dangerously close to an actual sob, then buries his face in Freo’s neck and keeps moving. It’s slow this time, deep, like he's got something sacred to prove. Like he’s trying to say ‘fuck, that’s right, I love you’ without messing it up the way he always messes things up when he talks too much.

Freo wraps his arms around him, legs still locked around his hips, his breath hitching soft in Kaelix’s ear with every thrust. Their bodies move together like something practiced, something earned. It doesn’t take much longer for Freo, who makes the loudest sound he’s ever made that night as he comes undone, and yet it’s also still just a small cry of ecstasy in Kaelix’s arms as he coats his stomach with his own spend.

“Kae—mmphh—keep going,” Freo encourages, knowing that Kaelix isn’t for long either with the way he’s just tightened up around him.

Again, he’s absolutely right and after a few more artless thrusts into the love of his life, Kaelix finishes with a muffled groan against Freo’s skin, his whole body trembling like it’s the first time all over again. Like the weight of everything just cracked him wide open.

They stay like that for a long, quiet moment, tangled and sweat-slick and still catching their breath.

Kaelix goes through the motions, gently pulling out with a wince as Freo groans, long and low at the feeling of suddenly being so empty. He ties condom one of many and off to the nearby trash can it goes. Eventually, Kaelix collapses carefully by Freo’s side, pulling his boyfriend close, arms instinctively tightening around his waist like he might float off otherwise.

“You—” Kaelix starts, voice hoarse and wet with the stupid, honest emotion of it all. “You surprised me. I didn’t know you could be like that.”

Freo hums sleepily into his chest. “And you cry during sex. We all have our secrets.”

“Okay,” Kaelix says, laughing, sniffling, kissing the top of his head. “Rude, but fair.”

Freo doesn’t move. Just fits against him perfectly, like they were made to tangle up exactly like this.

“I’ll wash you up properly in a bit,” Kaelix murmurs, his voice soft, sleepy, and content. “But for now…let’s just stay like this, alright?”

Freo nods, before curling up even closer. His raises his head, lips brushing against Kaelix’s jawline, a gentle, affectionate kiss that sends a shiver down Kaelix’s spine. Kaelix leans his head down, pressing a soft kiss to Freo’s sweat-damp forehead, his hands smoothing over the bare skin of Freo’s back.

“I love you,” he says quietly, his voice thick with the weight of his words.

“I love you,” Kaelix repeats, because he knows he talks a lot and can’t help it, but this time it’s something he just wants to say again and again and again, something that feels right. “I love you so much, Freo.”

Freo’s smile is faint but warm, and he leans into Kaelix’s touch, eyes fluttering closed.

“Mm, I know,” he murmurs softly, his lips brushing Kaelix’s once more, holding his love up like a mirror when he says again, “I know.”

Kaelix embraces him just a little tighter, feeling that strange, gentle tug at his heart that happens only when he’s close enough to the truth. His fingers trace lazy patterns along Freo’s back, and he thinks that maybe, just maybe, this is the kind of forever he could want, even have.

And then, in a quiet, teasing tone, likely after having observed Kaelix’s lovestruck face, Freo mutters against Kaelix’s skin, “oh my, what have I done.”

Kaelix laughs softly, chest vibrating with it as they kiss, “the best thing that’s ever happened to me, I’m afraid,” he says, his heart a little full and a lot soft.