It started with a call.
Aiden had an emergency meeting and had to leave the city for a night. He kissed Yuuto goodbye, told him to rest, and promised to call. The moment the door closed, the apartment felt too quiet… too cold.
Yuuto poured a glass of wine and tried to distract himself with a drama on TV, but his mind wasn't on the screen. It was on Lucas. The way he'd spoken. The heat in his eyes. The way Yuuto's body had reacted—uninvited.
The doorbell rang.
He frowned. It was almost midnight.
When he opened the door, Lucas stood there in a black shirt, sleeves rolled up, holding a small bag.
"You left your sketchbook in my car," he said casually. "Thought you might want it back."
Yuuto narrowed his eyes. "You could've given it to Aiden."
Lucas smirked. "But then I wouldn't have seen you."
Before Yuuto could shut the door, Lucas stepped inside, brushing past him. "Nice place. Very… cozy."
Yuuto shut the door, annoyed. "Drop it and leave."
Lucas dropped the sketchbook on the coffee table, then turned to him. "You draw beautifully. Passionately."
Yuuto crossed his arms. "Lucas—"
"I saw the one you drew of Aiden," Lucas interrupted, eyes dark. "But I wonder… what would a sketch of me look like? Raw? Rough? Something darker?"
Yuuto's heart pounded. "You're playing games."
Lucas stepped closer. "No, Yuuto. Aiden is playing the game—trying to protect you, hide things, die quietly without telling you the truth."
Yuuto blinked. "What?"
Lucas's voice lowered. "Did he tell you he only has ten years to live? That every night with you is a borrowed moment?"
Yuuto's breath hitched. "You're lying."
"Am I?" Lucas whispered, stepping closer, until their faces were inches apart. "Then why does he keep you at arm's length when it matters most?"
Silence.
Then Lucas cupped Yuuto's face.
"You deserve someone who'll burn for you. Not someone fading away."
His lips brushed Yuuto's.
Soft. Hot. Forbidden.
And Yuuto didn't pull back right away.
When he finally did, breath shaky, Lucas whispered, "That's what truth feels like."
He left without another word.
Yuuto collapsed onto the couch, hand trembling over his lips.
It was just a kiss.
But it felt like a fire he might never put out.