Gawin sat at the edge of the bed, his hair still damp from a rushed drying.
The loose T-shirt hung lazily off one shoulder, revealing the gentle rise of his collarbone each time he sighed.

Joss entered from the kitchen, a cup of steaming ginger tea in hand.
He didn't say a word, just quietly placed it on the table.
His gaze rested on Gawin, not demanding, not urgent,
just waiting for a sign, a quiet confirmation that he was still allowed to love.

Gawin looked up and asked softly,
"You’re not going to ask me... why I came back?"

Joss sat down across from him, his voice rough:
"No. I'm afraid... if I ask, you might disappear again."

A hush settled over the room like a thin blanket, gentle but heavy.

Joss lifted his hand to touch Gawin’s, but stopped midway.
This time, Gawin reached out first.
His fingers were cold at first, but slowly warmed in Joss’s palm.

No words needed.
They understood.

Tonight, they weren’t reaching for each other out of desire,
but because after all the times they had lost one another,
neither wanted to be apart again.

When Joss gently guided Gawin onto the bed, every movement was unhurried.
The soft amber light cast delicate shadows on Gawin’s high-bridged nose,
his face no longer guarded like before.

The T-shirt slid off with a gentle tug.
His pale skin blushed slightly at the neck, once marked in haste,
now a place to be cherished.

Joss leaned down, kissed it, softly.
As if apologizing for what had once hurt.

"Slowly..." Gawin whispered, voice trembling.

Joss nodded, a faint smile on his lips.
"This time, I'm not rushing.
I want to remember every breath of you."

Their lips met, not to claim,
but to reconnect what had once cracked.
Their breaths merged with the quiet rhythm of the mattress beneath them.

Joss’s hands traced Gawin’s spine, not urgently,
but like he was redrawing a map of something once familiar.

When they became one, they didn’t look away.
Each movement, deep and steady, came with a silent question:
"Are you really here with me?"

And for the first time, Gawin didn’t look away.
He met his eyes, glistening, and gave a gentle nod.

The room filled with soft sighs, quiet as wordless music.
A melody for those who had once lost each other,
but had found the courage to return.

When it was over, Joss kissed his forehead.
Neither said "I love you",
but in every touch, in every tangled breath,
their bodies said enough.

Gawin wrapped his arms tightly around him,
for the first time, he was the one to hold on first.

He whispered, barely audible:
"This time... I won't leave.
If you also learn how not to hurt me again."

Joss didn't answer.
He only bent down and kissed the left side of Gawin’s chest,
where the heart still beat,
still stayed.

@Nopbyy I'm so whipped for the Vietnam Fanday 🥹