A/N: I acknowledge that people have different preferences, and I've tried my best to accommodate that... So, for those who don't like smut, here you go! The uncensored one will follow xx

******

Julian doesn't need to say it twice—his explicit permission is all Joaquin needs to finally break his unspoken self-imposed rule of not crossing the line with his old friend.

The person he cherishes the most.

Without hesitation, his hand slips to cradle the back of Julian's neck, drawing him into a kiss so fervent that Julian finds himself unraveling, carried away by the tender movements of Joaquin's lips against his.

Their legs brush, the fleeting contact reigniting embers long extinguished, and the kiss inevitably deepens. Their tongues dance to a tune so familiar as if on a mission to rediscover each other's sweet spots.

The six years of separation had done nothing to dull their connection; they could still perform a choreography perfected ages ago.

As Joaquin presses forward, Julian feels his arousal grow harder against his own. He shudders, grabbing Joaquin's hips, daring him to come even closer.

But the heat coursing within Joaquin doesn't overpower his judgment. He recoils, his breathing coming out ragged. "Yours or mine?"

Julian's fingers curl into Joaquin's shirt. "I'd like to see your place."

Joaquin grasps Julian's wrist as they head for the door. He enters the code: 0510, and Julian expels a short, surprised chortle. Inside, they shed their shoes and secure the door behind them.

Joaquin casts him a glance. "What was that about?"

"We've got the same code," Julian mutters, eyes roaming around the interior swiftly. Bookshelves line the walls, the scent of fresh pages thick in the air. It's unmistakably Joaquin. "I guess you remember."

"You really need to stop second-guessing how much I remember about us," Joaquin says quietly. "I remember everything."

Julian smiles. "Okay."

They take a few steps to the living room, where Julian's work stands out, hanging by the television. It's as though his mother is smiling down at them.

Joaquin whirls Julian around, ready to pick up where they left off, but Julian swivels his head. "Just hang on a sec... I feel like I'm being watched by Mama."

Joaquin chuckles. "Now that you've mentioned it..." He pulls Julian away from the artwork, all while thinking about the best way to relocate the painting. His childhood bedroom? Or just somewhere off-limits. Where he wouldn't dare to kiss Julian.

Sadly, while he has him in his arms, his thoughts falter. There's no such place. If he had his way, he'd kiss Julian anywhere.

Anywhere, as in every corner of any room.

And every inch of Julian's skin...

The bedroom door creaks open, and a surge of cedarwood interlaced with the earthy scent of paper and ink greets Julian. He inhales, muttering, "You always work so hard—"

Their mouths are mashed together by Joaquin, cutting him off mid-sentence. Then, Joaquin takes Julian's shirt off recklessly and tosses it to the floor, his arms snaking around his bare waist. Joaquin gets even more turned on. Holding back? That ship has already sailed.

As he leads Julian to the bed, he fumbles with his own trousers next, his mouth not leaving his.

Julian withdraws, stuttering, "J-Joaquin, mm... what's the rush...?"

Teeth nibbling fondly on Julian's lower lip, Joaquin confesses, "I just missed you."

Julian's cheeks redden. "I missed you, too..." He lowers his head, inadvertently glimpsing at Joaquin's torso, at every vein and every contour of his muscles, exposed due to his unbuttoned shirt. He feels the overwhelming desire to feel him up.

Joaquin watches Julian lick and bite his bottom lip, his gaze fixated on his body. A corner of his lips quirks up, enjoying how Julian seems to want him just as he wants Julian.

He's not dreaming, is he? Julian is here. Willingly.

Joaquin touches the small of Julian's back, transmitting jitters along his spine. "Kissing's a bit uncomfortable with my glasses on, isn't it?"

"A bit, yeah."

"Mind helping me out?"

Julian's finger traces the rim of the glasses and then removes them, flinging them to the opposite side of the bed. "But... would you be able to see?"

"Mm. I'm near-sighted," Joaquin replies, dipping his lips to Julian's shoulder blades, his breath warm on his skin. "So, it works out, actually. All I need is for you to be this close..."

Julian's mouth moves to the shell of his ear. "That wouldn't be a problem."

And just like that, the switch is flipped on again. Joaquin peppers Julian's neck and shoulders with light kisses as he finally undresses. Then, he clutches Julian's hand, placing his palm, warm and smooth, on his abdomen. "You can touch me."

Julian visibly swallows, feeling dizzy at the proximity. Sleek and sexy. Athletic physique but not too large that he feels completely dwarfed—Joaquin is way too much his type.

Joaquin's fingers skim the zipper of Julian's pants... and then, inexplicably, he pauses.

"What's wrong?"

Wincing, Joaquin reveals, "I, uh, I don't have condoms."

He'd imagined this happening a thousand times, having promised to explore the depths of pleasure together. Yet, after meeting again, he hadn't expected Julian to ever end up here, in his bedroom, ready to share the night and turn the fantasies into reality.

He should've kept some as an extra precaution. Now, he's being cockblocked by his negligence!

Julian easily catches Joaquin's disappointment written all over his face. He caresses Joaquin's cheek. "Not tonight, then."

Julian is cautious. He's just gotten tested after his last situationship, but it feels quite rushed. They haven't broached... the things that count yet. Things that could make or break them.

Joaquin showers Julian's wrist with kisses, making deliberate eye contact with his hard-on. "I can still make you feel good."

Julian's mouth parts, his heart leaping to his throat. He's just decided that it's a bit too fast. But how could he deny how much he wants to do more with Joaquin? He'd settled with partners he didn't even care for.

"Do you want me to?"

"W-What are you going to do?"

Joaquin crosses his arms, assuming his usual commanding demeanor whenever he wants to take control. "You'll have to follow me to find out."

Frankly, Joaquin holds all the power now. He could do whatever he wanted with him—could order him to do anything—and he would comply. Julian's already come undone.

He nods, barely able to hide his eagerness.

Joaquin smirks. Tomorrow, he'll make sure to get everything they'll need for next time.

Because the next time is inevitable. Joaquin is determined to rewrite this story; he wouldn't let it end like the rest.

******

Lying side by side, Joaquin and Julian are drowned in each other's eyes, searching for answers to the unspoken questions. What has brought them here? What will happen in the future?

Will this last?

"Hey, you alright?" Joaquin asks, his finger running over Julian's nose bridge with a tenderness that makes Julian curl his toes reflexively.

Julian can't deny that a big part of him still clings to the feelings he once held for his best friend, and it's clear that Joaquin wants him back just as much. But can they find a way to make this work? While some things seem unchanged, some things must've also shifted. Right?

"Joaquin," he murmurs, his gaze flitting away.

Joaquin senses what's about to come, and he laces their fingers together, squeezing Julian's hand. "Go ahead. Ask."

Julian draws a breath. "You... You said your father has quit trying to set you up. Is that true?"

"Yes," he responds. "It's been a while. About four years?"

"Oh," Julian mumbles. "Then why didn't you..."

"Come back to you sooner?" Joaquin finishes for him. "I went back to therapy."

Julian frowns. It's the first time he's hearing this. "Therapy?"

"Yes. My Dad made me go when I first got here. I stopped when I entered university, thinking I was fine without it. But after we broke up... I realized I wasn't. So, I started again."

"And you're still going?"

"Sometimes," Joaquin says. "Whenever I feel like I need it. So, in short, I... didn't come back because I... wasn't in a place to be the right partner for you."

"And now?"

"Now, I want to treat you right. I can treat you right."

"Okay." Julian motions closer, resting his hand on Joaquin's cheek. "Were you... serious about wanting to be... I don't know... neighbors? Friends? Again?"

"I was." Joaquin smiles weakly, tinged with regret. "I thought it'd be safer for us to stay as we are, that you'd prefer it that way. As friends, there's less risk of losing you again." He grips Julian's hand. "But I really, really still like you. I do. And if you feel the same... I'd like us to date again. No hiding. No secrets. We can tell everyone."

Julian gulps. "But your Dad doesn't know, right? And that... that's the..."

"Before I flew back, he told me to be happy," Joaquin says, his voice unwavering. "And this is me trying. I'll tell him once I visit. It'll be different."

Six years ago, Joaquin had lied.

He said what he thought Julian needed to hear, hoping it would make him stay, but Julian saw right through it.

Joaquin was buying time.

"I know I haven't earned your trust back," Joaquin utters, sliding over so their knees would touch, cutting through Julian's thoughts. "But please, you have to let me try."