The steam curled gently from the bathtub, fogging the mirror and wrapping the bathroom in warmth. Aiden, half-asleep, leaned his head back against the tiled wall. The soft sound of water lapping around him lulled him into a dreamy daze.
Suddenly, the door burst open.
Aiden jolted upright, water sloshing over the edge of the tub. "What the hell—?!"
Sion stood there, holding an empty coffee jar in one hand, looking entirely unbothered. "You ran out of coffee," he said flatly, eyes lazily scanning the room—until they landed on Aiden.
More specifically—on Aiden's bare chest, wet collarbone, and the delicate beads of water trailing down his skin.
His words died in his throat.
Something in Sion's mind snapped—dragging him back to a memory not from this world.
A quiet pond. Moonlight on water. Ren sitting in the lake, half-immersed, looking up at him with the same sleepy, curious gaze. Sion had walked forward then too, crouched down, and kissed him for the first time—first on the hand, then the lips.
The past bled into the present.
Unconsciously, Sion's feet carried him forward.
Aiden blinked up at him, confused, lips slightly parted. "If you're going to kiss me," he murmured, voice hoarse, "just do it. Or else leave—I've got work."
That was all it took.
Sion crouched down beside the tub, one hand bracing against the edge. He stared at Aiden's face, his eyes flicking once—eyes. Lips. Eyes.
Then he leaned in.
The kiss was far from gentle. It was raw—like weeks of restraint breaking all at once. Sion cupped the side of Aiden's face, tilting his head up as he sucked on his lips, deep and firm, as if trying to burn the shape of Aiden's mouth into his own.
Aiden gasped softly, caught off guard but didn't pull away.
His hands stayed gripping the edge of the tub while Sion kissed him—again, and again. The kind of kiss that asked: "Where were you when I needed you?" and "Are you really here this time?"
Finally, Sion pulled back, breathing heavy.
The silence between them buzzed with heat, tension, and emotion.
"Just because I kissed you," Sion said, his voice quieter now, "doesn't mean I've forgiven you."
He stared into Aiden's eyes—serious, searching.
"You still need to prove it to me. That what you feel… isn't sympathy. That it's real. That it's love."
Aiden nodded slowly. His voice was low but firm. "I know."
Sion stood up, eyes lingering a moment longer before finally turning toward the door. "I'll get ready. You should too."
As the door shut behind him, Aiden leaned back into the tub again—water now cool, but his skin still burning.
He touched his lips with his fingers.
"He still loves me… I just have to prove I never stopped."
---