By the time Aster arrived home, the sky outside had already deepened into a mellow indigo. City lights flickered past the car windows, but his mind was still replaying the events from set.
Lianne's face. Her panic. Her flimsy excuses.
He sighed quietly and shook it off.
No need to bring that home. Not tonight.
The house was warm and softly lit when he stepped in. A hint of dinner still lingered in the air.
Adrian glanced up from the couch where he sat with a storybook in hand and Finn curled up fast asleep beside him, a tiny fist still clutching a crayon.
"You're back." Adrian's voice was low, but a smile tugged at his lips. "Just in time. Someone knocked himself out mid-story."
Aster knelt by the couch, pressing a kiss to Finn's fluffy hair. "He didn't wait for me."
"He tried. Got through two pages before he conked out." Adrian shifted, carefully scooping Finn into his arms. "Bath and storytime were a success. He only complained once."
Aster smirked. "That's an improvement."
Adrian carried Finn into the kids' room and gently tucked him in. By the time he came back, Aster was already loosening the collar of his outfit, tossing his bag onto the chair.
"Long day?" Adrian asked, coming up behind him.
Aster turned and nodded. "Yeah. But a good one. I forgot how much I love being on set. The lights, the scripts, the rush of it all—it was... kinda perfect."
Adrian watched him closely, sharp eyes scanning for more.
But Aster just leaned against the wall and asked, "What about you? What did you do today, CEO?"
Adrian's mouth curved into a smirk. "Oh, the usual. Answered some calls, signed off deals, had to fire someone for embezzling funds. Nearly flew to Shanghai, but decided to stay home because someone looked too cute in his new outfit this morning."
Aster raised a brow, skeptical.
Adrian shrugged. "Couldn't miss my good luck charm's first filming day."
Aster blinked—surprised, flattered—and unsure what to do with the warmth in his chest. He rubbed the back of his neck and stepped past him toward the kitchen.
"You cooked again?"
"Would've waited for you, but I figured you'd come home starving."
Aster peeked at the stove. Warmed-up pasta and garlic bread. Simple, but thoughtful. Comforting.
"I didn't expect you to—" he started, but Adrian cut in.
"You say that every night," Adrian teased. "Act surprised a little less next time, and maybe I'll bake you a cake."
Aster let out a short laugh, the tension from earlier easing under Adrian's ease. "Noted."
Dinner was quiet and warm. Afterward, Aster showered and came out in one of Adrian's oversized shirts, towel-drying his hair.
Adrian was already on the bed, sprawled in his sweatpants and nothing else, scrolling lazily on his phone with the bedroom lights dimmed low. He looked up when Aster entered—and didn't hide the way his eyes dragged slowly across him.
Aster froze mid-step.
That look.
It was hunger wrapped in admiration. Intense. Devouring.
He swallowed and walked to the bed, slipping under the covers. "Finn's asleep?"
"Dead to the world." Adrian turned off his phone and leaned over. "So we have time."
Aster flushed. "I have an early call time tomorrow—"
"Mm. We'll be quick." Adrian smirked. "Unless you want it slow."
"Adrian—"
He kissed Aster's cheek. "You looked incredible today."
"You didn't even see me on set."
"I don't have to. I know you. When you walked through that door, all lit up and glowing—fuck, baby, it was hard not to drag you in here right then."
Aster's breath hitched.
"You're always so sexy when you're doing what you love," Adrian murmured, voice like silk. "Makes me want to ruin you."
"Y-You can't," Aster stammered, backing up a little. "Not tonight. I mean it."
Adrian chuckled but nodded. "I'll behave."
But "behaving" was relative.
Because soon, Adrian had Aster beneath him—shirt pushed up, kisses trailing hot and slow over his collarbones, his stomach. His hands were gentle but firm, easing him open, coaxing soft gasps and shivers from Aster's throat.
And just when Aster thought he might lose himself again, Adrian slowed.
Held him close.
Pressed kisses into his neck instead of going harder.
And whispered, "Not tonight. You've got work, love."
It was frustrating. And oddly tender.
Aster, flushed and panting, buried his face in Adrian's shoulder and grumbled, "You're such a tease."
Adrian smirked. "You love it."
They cleaned up in silence, Adrian helping him gently with a warm towel and a kiss to his forehead before tucking him into bed.
Aster tried not to think about how domestic it all felt.
How natural.
And as Adrian slipped in beside him and wrapped an arm around his waist, Aster—just for a second—let himself believe this was real.
Even if only for a while.