By the time Aster stepped back into the penthouse, dusk had settled in. The lights were on, warm and golden, and the faint aroma of something savory lingered in the air.
He toed off his shoes and was about to call out when—
"Brother!"
Finn bolted from the hallway like a pint-sized rocket, arms wide, bunny clutched in one hand.
Aster barely had time to brace himself before the toddler crashed into him with all the uncoordinated enthusiasm of a four-year-old.
"Did'ya get famous yet?"
Aster laughed, crouching to hug him. "Not yet, buddy."
Finn squished his cheeks. "You look like a 'vortizer."
"You mean an advertiser?"
"Yeah! One of the people that hold the toothpaste and smile like this—" Finn pulled his mouth into a wide, ridiculous grin, showing every tooth. Aster laughed so hard he almost fell over.
"Not bad," said a deep voice behind them.
Aster looked up—and froze a little at the sight of Adrian.
He was leaning against the hallway wall, sleeves rolled up, shirt open at the collar, his watch catching the light. His eyes swept over Aster, lingering.
"You look good," Adrian said simply.
Aster suddenly felt very aware of his styled hair and how fitted his black turtleneck was.
He cleared his throat. "Uh... the shoot went well. Manager said we'll start prepping for an audition soon."
Adrian walked closer, lifting Finn effortlessly into his arms. "Glad to hear it."
Finn wrapped his arms around Adrian's neck, giggling. "Brother's gonna be on TV!"
"Hmm," Adrian murmured, brushing crumbs from Finn's cheek with a thumb. "He better remember his lines."
Aster narrowed his eyes playfully. "Says the guy who barely talks."
Adrian smirked, and the three of them ended up in the living room, where dinner was already prepared, neatly plated on the dining table like a chef's special.
After dinner, bath time was a splashy mess of bubbles, squeaky duckies, and Finn making monster faces in the mirror while Aster dried his hair.
"Story?" Finn asked once they were settled in his child-themed bedroom.
Aster picked up a book, but Adrian took it instead, motioning for Aster to just relax.
Aster watched from the armchair, eyes soft, as Adrian read in a low, steady voice while Finn nestled against his chest.
By the last page, Finn's eyes were already fluttering shut.
Adrian stood, effortlessly laying the boy in bed. He adjusted the blanket, kissed the soft mop of hair, and dimmed the lights.
Aster followed him out, heart full in a way that unsettled him.
Back in the master bedroom, the moment the door clicked shut behind them, Aster froze.
The room was dim, moonlight pouring in from the tall windows. Adrian walked ahead, unbuttoning his shirt, his body lean and strong in the shadows.
Aster's brain short-circuited a little.
They'd... done it before. But still.
He wasn't sure if he was ready again tonight—his backside still faintly sore.
Adrian glanced over his shoulder. "Shower," he said. "Go ahead first."
Aster blinked. "You're not joining me?"
"Already did. Guest bathroom."
"...Oh."
He showered quickly, warm water soothing his limbs. He lingered just a little too long, uncertain.
When he came out wrapped in a towel, Adrian was already in bed, shirtless, phone on the nightstand, head resting against the headboard.
He looked up and patted the space beside him.
Aster hesitated, then padded over.
"Are we...?" he began.
Adrian's eyes gleamed. "If you think you can handle my big c—"
"Don't you dare finish that sentence," Aster groaned, smacking his arm.
Adrian laughed—genuinely, deeply. Then he pulled Aster gently into his arms.
"Relax," he said, voice low and sure. "Just sleep."
But sleep didn't come right away.
Aster lay against Adrian's chest, heart thudding softly, skin tingling.
Adrian's fingers drifted up his back... then lower. Slow. Intent.
Their breaths mingled in the dark.
This time, Adrian didn't ask.
He didn't need to.
Aster turned his face up and their lips met—hungry, slow at first, then deepening.
Adrian rolled him beneath him, careful but commanding.
Aster's towel slipped away. His skin burned under Adrian's touch.
"Lube," Adrian murmured, reaching into the nightstand drawer. "And condom. Always."
Aster nodded, breath hitching.
He didn't know when he lost control of his body—just that every flick of Adrian's tongue, every stroke of those experienced fingers, made his thighs tremble.
The prep was slow and steady. Adrian kissed his throat, his chest, his hips—until Aster was gasping, his toes curling into the sheets.
When Adrian finally pressed in, Aster's moan was swallowed by a kiss.
It was different this time. Less desperate. More precise.
Adrian moved with confidence, finding all the right spots, drawing out breathy cries and whispered pleas.
Aster clutched the sheets, his body melting into every roll of Adrian's hips.
It went on forever—slow, hard, overwhelming.
Until finally, with a trembling gasp and Adrian's name muffled into the pillow—Aster broke.
Afterward, Aster lay on his back, sweat cooling on his skin, limbs useless.
He barely noticed Adrian slipping away... then returning with a warm towel.
"You—" Aster started to protest, but Adrian was already cleaning him up. Gently. Carefully.
"Too much?" Adrian asked, a rare softness in his voice.
Aster's ears were red. "I... I think I died twice."
Adrian smiled faintly. "You're still breathing."
He helped Aster into fresh briefs, tucked him under the blanket, and leaned down to press a kiss to his temple.
"You did good, actor."
Aster buried his face in the pillow.
"...Stop calling me that."
Adrian chuckled. "I'll stop when you stop moaning like you want an encore."
Aster threw a pillow at him. Missed.
Adrian caught it anyway. Then, without another word, climbed into bed beside him and pulled him close.
No promises.
No expectations.
Just the quiet beat of two hearts under one roof.