Jonas arched, a moan torn from his throat as his fingers dug into the sheets. Thoughts shattered. Pride dissolved. There was only the wet heat of Rafael's mouth, the fervent hunger in every lick and pull, the obscene slurps echoing like confessions.
Jonas was unraveling, falling apart under him.
And Rafael? He wasn't just tasting.
He was claiming.
Every flick of his tongue. Every groan that vibrated against Jonas' core. Every graze of teeth.
This was months of longing, silent obsessions, repressed tension, finally combusting.
And when Jonas cried out, finally pushed to the edge he'd tried so hard to escape, Rafael didn't stop. He swallowed every last drop of Jonas' trembling need, eyes never leaving him.
Only when Jonas lay there, ruined and panting, did Rafael rise, slowly, lips still glistening, eyes still dark.
He leaned close, lips brushing Jonas' ear.
"I hope you're ready, Jonas," he whispered, voice low and wicked.
"Because I'm not letting you run now."
Jonas was barely catching his breath when Rafael's hands found his waist again, firm and possessive.
"Rafael---" he started, but the name melted on his tongue, just a breath, just a whisper.
Rafael turned him over, slow but sure, revealing the curve of his back, the flush of his skin. Jonas didn't resist. Couldn't. His body felt weightless, consumed, already molded to Rafael's grip. Vulnerable, offered, his.
A kiss pressed between his shoulder blades. Another lower, hotter, wetter. Each one sent tremors through his spine. He buried his face into the pillow as Rafael's mouth trailed down his back, marking him in soft, open-mouthed kisses, in licks that lingered.
"I've waited too long," Rafael murmured against the small of his back, breath ragged. "Too long to have you like this."
Jonas didn't answer.
He couldn't.
He arched instead.
And Rafael took the invitation as intended.
There was a rustle, the sound of slick preparation, and Jonas felt it, felt him. Teasing, rubbing, deliberate pressure building right where he was most sensitive. A soft gasp escaped Jonas' lips, his fingers clenching the sheets beneath him. Rafael held him still, grounding them both.
Then came the push.
Slow. Deep. Heavy with possession.
Jonas gritted his teeth, back taut, overwhelmed not just by the stretch but by the weight of everything behind it, the months, the silence, the longing, the aching restraint finally snapping.
Rafael was trembling too, forehead resting against Jonas' back, muttering curses and prayers, as if this union wasn't just desire, it was salvation. Every movement was a worship. Every breath shared between them a vow.
The bed creaked, the room filled with the music of skin and panting and whispered names. Not loud. Not brutal. But burning. A rhythm born of need too long denied, drawn out by the ache of having and almost losing.
And in that tangle of sweat and sighs, they were no longer just two boys dancing around their obsession.
They were theirs now.
No pretending. No ignorance.
Just fire.
The room was thick with heat, the kind that seeped into bones and wouldn't let go. Rafael's lips left trails of fire down Jonas' back, each kiss a promise, each breath a confession.
Jonas shivered beneath him, caught in that delicious torment of needing and giving in all at once. His fingers clenched the sheets, nails digging in like he was holding onto something real, something undeniable.
Rafael's hands gripped his hips, steady and sure, the slow, measured movement between them a silent language. No need for words, their bodies spoke in gasps and murmurs, in the ache that stretched beyond skin and muscle.
Time bent and warped, minutes folded into hours, until both were trembling on the edge of everything, hearts pounding in the hush of night.
When finally they stilled, their breaths mingled in the quiet, and Rafael rested his forehead against Jonas' back. A soft smile ghosted across his lips, a look that said: You're mine. No more pretending.
Jonas' voice was barely a whisper.
"Not a word about this, okay?"
Rafael chuckled low and tight.
"Not a single one."
They stayed like that, tangled, warm, and raw, long after the world outside stopped existing.
The first light of dawn slipped through the cracked window, casting soft golden lines across the rumpled sheets. Rafael was already awake, his breath shallow, pulse still thrumming from the night before. He shifted carefully, not wanting to disturb the steady rhythm of Jonas' sleep.
But Jonas was never really asleep anymore, not since that night. His eyelashes fluttered open, eyes half-lidded and glazed with lingering dreams. He caught Rafael's gaze across the narrow space between their beds, a slow, crooked smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Without a word, Rafael slid off his bed, bare feet silent on the cool floor. The space between them was small, but the air around them buzzed with the weight of everything unspoken. He closed the distance with deliberate slowness, letting his fingers trace the line of Jonas' jaw, down the curve of his neck, his skin warm and real beneath his touch.
Jonas' breath hitched, the ghost of last night's fire still alive inside him. Rafael's hand slid under the thin fabric of Jonas' shirt, warm fingertips pressing against heated skin, memorizing every tremble, every small reaction.
They moved with the same cautious urgency, hungry to touch but wary of shattering the fragile calm that settled with the morning. Rafael's lips found the sensitive spot just below Jonas' ear, the low murmur of his breath a tease and a promise.
Jonas tilted his head, offering more, craving more.
Rafael's hands found the edge of the sheets, gripping tight for control, for now. Because they both knew what happened when they lost it.
The slow, delicious tension stretched between them, broken only by the soft creak of the old dormitory floor and the distant hum of a waking city.
When Rafael finally pulled back, he caught Jonas' eye again, bright, reckless, and utterly his.
"Breakfast," Rafael said, voice rough. "Then class."
Jonas laughed, the sound light but laced with heat. "Yeah. Breakfast."
They shared a look, a silent truce for the day, before the world outside crept back in.
The room was quiet again, but something had shifted forever. Neither of them would admit it, but their pretending was already wearing thin.
And when the night came again, they both knew they'd be back to that fire.