Archive of Our Own

Two years ago, Sand and Ray had a brutal fight. Ray, in one of his most destructive tantrums, accused Sand of not loving him enough, of always prioritizing music and his friends, and ended up saying hurtful things to him before cutting off all contact. Sand, hurt and tired of the constant drama, didn't chase after him that time.

Now, in the present, they run into each other by chance. Sand is still with the band and has tried to move on. Ray, on the outside, seems just the same as always: dramatic, spoiled, and handsome, but deep down, he never got over Sand. His love for him remains intact, almost obsessive, manifesting itself through jealousy, neediness, and repressed desire.

Ray walked into the small bar hidden down a narrow alley. He wasn't expecting to see him there. Not that night. Not after two years of pretending he could live without him.

Sand was sitting at the bar, his guitar resting against his leg, talking to the bartender. The same sharp profile, the same messy hair, the same way of holding his glass as if the world didn't weigh on him. Ray felt his chest tighten. His heart—that traitor—started beating so hard that he thought Sand might be able to hear it from there.

—Fuck… —Ray muttered under his breath.

He wanted to turn around and run out, but his feet moved forward on their own. As always. Like a fucking magnet.

Sand looked up just as Ray stopped two meters away from him. Time froze. Sand's eyes widened slightly, surprise, pain, and something darker flashing across his expression.

—Ray? —His voice sounded low, hoarse.

Ray swallowed. He wanted to scream at him. He wanted to hit him. He wanted to throw himself at him and kiss him until he ran out of air. Instead, he lifted his chin with that dramatic attitude he always used as a shield.

—What? Surprised to see me? You thought I was dead or something, didn't you? —he said sharply, though his voice trembled at the end.

Sand let out a dry, humorless laugh.

—Two years without a single word, and you show up like this. Typical of you.

Ray felt the blow. Typical of him. Spoiled. Childish. The one who always ruined everything. He took another step closer, his fists clenched at his sides

—I came because… —he began, but stopped himself. He couldn't admit that he had been discreetly keeping track of the band's performances, that he had gone to that bar simply because someone had told him Sand sometimes played there—. Never mind. I didn't come here for you.

Lie. Everything was a lie when it came to Sand.

Sand slowly stood up. He was thinner than before, but he was still the same Sand Ray remembered in his dreams. The one who held him tightly whenever Ray had one of his dramatic episodes. The one who kissed him until he forgot why he was angry.

—Then why are you trembling? —Sand asked quietly, stepping closer until he was only one step away.

Ray felt that familiar heat rise through his body. That fucking effect only Sand had on him. He got turned on just from having him this close, from smelling his scent mixed with rain and whiskey. He took a step back, but bumped into a table.

—I'm not trembling —he lied, dramatically—. And don't look at me like that. You have no right to, after… after not coming looking for me.

Sand narrowed his eyes.

—You were the one who left, Ray. You were the one who said I had never truly loved you.

The air between them grew heavy. Sexual tension, resentment, and that stupid, enormous love that neither of them had managed to kill floated through the cramped space.

Ray felt his eyes burning. He wanted to cry. He wanted to scream. He wanted to shove Sand against the wall and kiss him until it hurt.

—And you? —Ray whispered, his voice breaking—. Did you love me? Or was it just convenient to have a spoiled boyfriend who adored you?

Sand took the final step. Now they were so close that Ray could feel his breath. Sand's eyes dropped to Ray's lips for a second before lifting again.

—I never stopped loving you —he admitted quietly, almost angrily—. That's the fucking problem.

Sand was so close that Ray could feel the heat of his body despite their clothes being soaked by the rain. Those words—“I never stopped loving you”—should have calmed him down, but instead they only fanned the fire inside him.

Ray let out a bitter, almost hysterical laugh as tears burned in his eyes.

—You never stopped loving me? —he repeated, raising his voice. Some of the bar's customers turned to look at them, but Ray didn't care. He had always been like this: dramatic, loud, incapable of keeping anything inside—. Then why didn't you come looking for me, Sand?! Two fucking years! You let me go as if I were just one of your one-night stands!

He shoved both hands against Sand's chest, but not with any real force. Just enough to vent his frustration. Sand didn't move. He remained firmly in place, looking at him with that mixture of pain and patience that always drove Ray crazy.

—Because you told me to go to hell, Ray —Sand replied in a low, controlled voice, though Ray could see his jaw clenching—. You told me you were better off without me, that I only hurt you with my “fucking band” and my “fucking friends.” What did you want me to do? Beg on my knees while you screamed at me that I had never truly loved you?

Ray felt something break inside his chest. He remembered that night. He remembered crying alone in his apartment afterward, breaking things, drinking until he passed out. He remembered waiting, day after day, for Sand to show up. But he never did.

—Because I was scared… —Ray admitted in a broken whisper, hating how pathetic he sounded. The tears were already falling freely down his cheeks—. I was afraid that one day you'd get tired of my tantrums, that you'd get fed up with how spoiled and needy I am. So I chose to walk away first… but I never wanted you to actually leave.

Sand closed his eyes for a second, as if the words physically hurt him. When he opened them, his gaze was dark, filled with everything they had kept buried for two years.

—You're an idiot, Ray —he said in a trembling voice—. A dramatic, spoiled, selfish idiot… and even so, I couldn't stop loving you for a single day.

The silence that followed was heavy. Ray sobbed and angrily wiped his face, embarrassed to be crying in front of him, but unable to stop. The bar felt too small. The air, too hot.

—Then prove it to me —Ray suddenly demanded, his voice spoiled and broken at the same time. He moved closer until their chests brushed against each other—. Prove to me that you never stopped loving me. Because I… I'm still here, fucking dying for you. Every night I think about you, I touch myself thinking about you, and then I hate myself because nobody else makes me feel the way you do.

Sand breathed heavily. His hands rose and gripped Ray's arms tightly, not to push him away, but to keep him close. The desire was obvious in his eyes, in the way his gaze dropped to Ray's trembling lips, in the way his body reacted to their proximity.

—Ray… —Sand warned, his voice hoarse—. Don't start something we can't stop here.

But Ray was already lost. He rose onto his toes and brushed his lips against Sand's in a kiss that was more desperation than tenderness. It was rough, full of teeth and tears. Sand moaned against his mouth and, for a second, kissed him back with the same hunger… but then he pulled away, breathing heavily.

—No —Sand said, even though he was clearly struggling to get the word out—. Not like this. Not in a bar after two years, while you're crying and I'm about to do something stupid.

Ray let out a frustrated, dramatic sob, burying his face in Sand's neck. His body trembled.

—You're fucking… you're killing me. You leave me alone for two years and now you don't even want to kiss me properly.

Sand held him tightly, one hand on the back of his neck and the other on his lower back, supporting him as Ray fell apart in tears and muffled complaints against his skin.

—We're getting out of here —Sand murmured against his hair—. But this isn't going to be fixed with a quick fuck and that's it, Ray. If we're going to get back together… this time we're going to do it right. Even if it hurts.

Sand held Ray for a few more seconds, feeling his body tremble against his own. The bar was already becoming far too public for the storm unfolding between them. He thought quickly: his apartment was only fifteen minutes away by taxi. It was small, filled with memories Ray would recognize instantly, but it was private. A motel would be more impersonal, safer… but also colder. And with Ray in this state, cold was the last thing he needed.

—We're going to my apartment —Sand decided in a low, firm voice, leaving no room for argument—. It's not far.

Ray lifted his face, eyes red and swollen, but with that spoiled glint Sand knew far too well.

—Your apartment? After all this time, you want to take me there like nothing happened? —His voice sounded accusatory, even though he clung to Sand's shirt as if he were afraid Sand might disappear.

Sand didn't answer with words. He simply took Ray's wrist, gentle but determined, and led him out of the bar. Outside, the air was heavy and humid, but it was no longer raining. They walked in silence to the main street, and Sand raised his hand to flag down a taxi. Ray didn't protest anymore. He simply got in and sat close to the window, staring outside with his arms crossed over his chest.

During the ride, the silence was suffocating. Ray bit his lower lip, clearly holding back another tantrum. Sand could feel the tension radiating from him: the desire, the pain, the restrained anger. Every time the taxi moved, their knees brushed against each other, and Ray tensed as if the contact burned him.

When they arrived at the building, Sand paid and guided Ray to the elevator. As soon as the doors closed, Ray exploded again.

—Why here? —he asked in a trembling voice—. To remind me of everything I lost? So I can see that you went on living without me while I was dying inside?

Sand sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

—Because it's the only place where we can talk without interruptions. And because, as hard as it may be for you to believe, this was your space too.

The apartment door opened, and the familiar scent hit Ray like a wave. The same furniture, the guitar in the corner, even the mug Ray always used was still in the same place on the shelf. Everything was the same… and everything was different.

Ray stepped inside slowly, as if he were walking through a minefield. His eyes wandered over every detail, filling with tears once again.

—Everything is still the same… —he whispered bitterly—. Except me. I'm a fucking mess, Sand.

He turned toward him, dramatic, vulnerable, and furious all at once.

—Tell me the truth. Did you bring someone else here? Someone who took my place in your bed? Because if you did, I swear I—

He didn't finish the sentence. Sand closed the door behind him and approached, but this time he didn't touch him. He stopped at a cautious distance, staring at him intently.

—I didn't bring anyone here —he said calmly—. No one has come in here since you. No one slept in that bed. No one… because none of them were you.

Ray let out a choked sob and dropped onto the edge of the couch, covering his face with his hands. His shoulders trembled.

—I hate you… I hate you so much for doing this to me. For still being you. For still smelling the same. For still making me want to crawl at your feet even when it hurts my pride.

Sand remained standing, watching him. His chest ached. He wanted to hold him, wanted to kiss him until the two years disappeared, but he knew that if he gave in now, Ray would hide behind sex and tantrums again without actually resolving anything.

—Then tell me what you want, Ray —Sand finally said, his voice hoarse from holding himself back—. Tell me what you need tonight. Because if you only came here to yell at me and then leave again… I don't know if I can go through that again.

Ray lifted his gaze, eyes glistening with tears and something much darker, hungrier. He bit his lip hard, his hands gripping the edge of the couch as if he were fighting against himself.

Ray remained sitting on the edge of the couch, his eyes fixed on the floor. The silence stretched between them like a rope about to snap. He swallowed several times, feeling his pride caught in his throat. Everything inside him screamed at him to get up, throw another tantrum, blame Sand for everything, and storm out, slamming the door behind him. But this time… this time he couldn't.

It was difficult to breathe. Difficult to look him in the face.

—Sand… —he began, his voice coming out broken, almost inaudible. He clenched his fists over his thighs until his knuckles turned white—. I… I never stopped loving you.

The words burned as they left his mouth. Ray squeezed his eyes shut, as if admitting it were worse than being slapped. His entire body tensed, fighting the urge to take it back, to turn it into another dramatic scene.

—Say the whole thing —Sand demanded quietly, without moving from where he stood. His tone was calm, but there was an edge of pain and exhaustion in it that Ray had never heard before.

Ray let out a trembling, bitter laugh, full of self-loathing.

—You want me to say the whole thing? Fine. I love you, Sand. I love you like an idiot. I love you even though I hate myself for it. I love you even though I spent two years trying to convince myself I could live without you, dating people I didn't care about, sleeping with whoever just to feel something… and I always ended up thinking about you. —His voice broke—. Happy? There you have my pride on the floor. Was that what you wanted to hear?

He shot to his feet, facing him. Confrontation burned in his eyes.

—But you… you're at fault too —Ray continued, pointing at him with a trembling finger—. You let me go. You let me destroy what we had because I'm dramatic and spoiled and needy and a fucking mess. You never fought for me! You never told me, “Stay, let's fix this!” You just stood there, looking at me as if you were already tired of carrying me.

The tears began falling again, but this time Ray didn't try to hide them. He took one step toward Sand, then another, until they were standing face-to-face.

—Tell me that you're a coward too —Ray whispered, almost pleading—. Tell me it hurt you just as much as it hurt me. Tell me it wasn't that easy for you to forget me… because if you tell me it was, I'll leave right now and never come back.

Sand stared at him. The air between them was charged, heavy with years of pent-up emotions, love, and resentment.

Ray, breathing heavily, his heart pounding in his throat, waited. His ego was still there, bleeding, but for the first time in a long time, he had set it aside. Now there was only the raw truth… and the fear that it wouldn't be enough.

Sand let out a long, harsh exhale, as if Ray's words had punched him in the stomach. He stepped forward, invading Ray's personal space until their chests almost touched. The heat between their bodies was palpable.

—Easy? —Sand repeated, his voice hoarse and filled with restrained anger—. You think it was easy for me? I stayed alone in this fucking apartment, hearing your voice in my head every damn night. I kept your mug because throwing it away meant accepting that you weren't coming back. I didn't come looking for you because every time I thought about doing it, I remembered you screaming that I was the problem, that my music would always come first. And you know what? I was afraid you were right.

Ray opened his mouth to respond, but Sand cut him off by moving closer, one hand gripping Ray's waist firmly, not pulling him all the way in, but keeping him exactly where he was.

—No —Sand said, looking him straight in the eyes—. Now you listen to me. I love you too, idiot. I love you even though you're a mess who throws tantrums over everything and drives me crazy with your spoiled behavior. I love you, and that fucked up my life these past two years because no one else fits. No one looks at me the way you do, no one gets under my skin like you do, no one leaves me this pissed off and this fucking turned on at the same time.

His fingers dug a little deeper into Ray's waist. His other hand rose to hold the back of Ray's neck, not kissing him yet, simply keeping him close. Their breaths mingled, hot and ragged.

—But I'm not going to pretend everything is fine —Sand continued, his voice lower and more dangerous—. I'm tired of being the one who always plays along with you, the one who indulges you in everything. If we get back together, it won't be just because you're horny and dramatic tonight. I want you to prove to me that you won't run away the next time you're scared.

Ray was visibly trembling under his grip. His body reacted to every word, every point of contact: the hand on his waist, the fingers at the back of his neck, the heat of Sand's chest against his own. He was hard, frustrated, and furious with himself for needing him so badly.

—Then tell me what you want me to do —Ray spat, almost defiantly, although his voice sounded broken and needy—. Do you want me to get on my knees? Do you want me to beg? Because I'm about to do it, Sand. I'm about to do anything with you, and I hate myself for it.

Sand clenched his jaw, clearly fighting the urge to pin him against the wall and put an end to all that tension. His eyes dropped to Ray's lips, then lifted again. His grip on the back of Ray's neck tightened.

—I want you to stop talking as if this is only about sex —Sand growled—. I want you to look me in the face and tell me you're going to stay even when things get difficult. Because if you only came here to let it all out and then disappear again… you'd better leave now.

Ray had barely finished speaking when Sand lost control.

Without another word, he grabbed Ray by the back of the neck and kissed him furiously. It wasn't a sweet kiss or a reunion kiss. It was teeth, tongue, and two years of accumulated anger. Ray let out a quiet “Uff” against his mouth, almost a surprised moan, and Sand heard it perfectly. That tiny sound was enough to set him completely on fire.

He grabbed Ray by the waist and began walking backward, pushing him toward the hallway leading to the bedroom. They collided with the hallway wall, then with the doorframe. A vase sitting on a shelf fell to the floor and shattered, but neither of them stopped. Sand shoved the bedroom door open and practically forced Ray inside.

—Sand, wait… —Ray began, still caught between drama and need, but Sand silenced him with another brutal kiss, biting his lower lip.

—Shut up —Sand growled against his mouth.

He pushed him onto the bed. Ray fell onto his back, breathing heavily, and Sand climbed on top of him immediately, pulling his shirt off with impatient tugs. Sand's hands moved straight to Ray's pants, pulling them down along with his underwear in one rough motion. Ray's cock sprang free, hard and leaking.

—Look at you… —Sand said in a hoarse, angry voice, gripping Ray's cock firmly and giving it a couple of sharp strokes—. You still get this fucking turned on just from fighting with me.

Ray opened his mouth to say something, probably another dramatic complaint, but Sand put two fingers into his mouth, silencing him.

—I told you to shut up.

Ray instinctively sucked on the fingers, staring at him with glassy eyes. Sand pulled them out, wet, and lowered them directly between Ray's buttocks. There was no gentle preparation. He pushed one finger into Ray's ass abruptly, then two, opening him with furious movements as Ray arched and moaned around the fingers still in his mouth.

Sand pulled his pants down just enough to free his own cock, thick and throbbing. He spat into his hand, lubricated himself, and pressed the thick head against Ray's slit.

—This is what you wanted, isn't it? —he growled, thrusting his cock inside with one hard drive.

Ray let out a strangled cry, his body tensing. Sand didn't give him time to adjust. He began fucking him with deep, angry thrusts, gripping him by the hips hard enough to leave marks. Every thrust made the bed slam against the wall.

—Fuck… Sand… —Ray tried to say between moans, his voice breaking—. I missed this cock so much… I…

Sand silenced him by covering his mouth with one hand while continuing to fuck him furiously, thrusting in and out of Ray's tight ass with hard, precise strokes. The sound of skin against skin filled the room along with Ray's muffled moans.

—I told you to shut up —Sand panted, leaning down to bite his neck—. Just feel me fucking you after you left me two years without this ass.

Ray writhed beneath him, his legs spread and trembling, his buttocks slapping against Sand's balls with every thrust. His hands clawed at Sand's back, half pain, half desperate surrender. The sex was dirty, furious, filled with resentment… but also with that deep need to fit together again, to accept that they still belonged to each other.

Sand kept fucking him with hard, deep thrusts, the wet, obscene sound of his cock sliding in and out of Ray's ass filling the entire room. Ray moaned uncontrollably, his sweaty body trembling beneath him, his buttocks red from the constant impact of Sand's hips.

Suddenly, Sand slid one hand upward and wrapped it around Ray's throat, applying just enough pressure for him to feel the control. He wasn't choking him, but he was reminding him who was in charge. He slowed the pace of his thrusts, but made them longer and more brutal, driving all the way in and staying there for a second before pulling back out.

—Tell me one thing —Sand growled, looking directly into his eyes as he tightened his hand slightly around Ray's throat—. How many people did you sleep with while we weren't together?

Ray, breathing raggedly, his cock dripping over his own abdomen, let out a hoarse, breathless laugh. Even while being fucked as if Sand wanted to punish him, he was still the same dramatic bastard he had always been.

—Are you… jealous? —Ray asked between breathless laughs, almost defiantly, even as his ass tightened around Sand's thick cock with every thrust—. After two years, you're asking me that while you're splitting my ass open? How cute, Sand…

Sand didn't find it funny at all. His expression hardened. He tightened his hand around Ray's throat and delivered an especially hard thrust, driving his entire cock into him at once until Ray let out a muffled moan that was cut short by the pressure on his neck.

—I'm not laughing, Ray —Sand said in a low, dangerous voice, fucking him more slowly now but deeper, brushing against that sensitive spot with every movement—. Answer me. How many? How many cocks were inside this ass that's supposed to be mine?

Ray tried to laugh again, but it came out more like a broken moan when Sand thrust hard again. He tried to speak, spoiled and provocative even now:

—A few… why do you care? You weren't waiting around like a saint either, were you? I…

Sand silenced him by tightening his grip around Ray's throat and picking up the pace again, fucking him with renewed fury. His cock moved in and out of Ray's hot, tight ass mercilessly, his balls striking hard against his buttocks.

—Shut up —Sand ordered through clenched teeth—. I don't want to hear that other guys fucked you while I was here remembering how good this ass feels. Just tell me the number.

He kept his hand around Ray's throat, controlling his breathing as he fucked him with deep, angry thrusts, his body tense with jealousy and rage. Ray's eyes were glassy, his mouth half-open, completely surrendered to the furious pleasure yet still unable to stay quiet, murmuring things between muffled moans.

His hand remained tightly wrapped around Ray's throat as his thick cock moved in and out mercilessly, buried in Ray's hot, open ass. Every thrust made Ray jerk across the bed, Ray's cock dripping precum onto his abdomen.

Ray, his face flushed and his eyes narrowed with pleasure and defiance, managed to force out an answer between muffled moans:

—Four… —he panted, almost laughing again despite the hand around his throat—. Four guys. None of them made me feel the way you do, none of them fucked my ass the way you're doing now… Happy, you jealous bastard?

Sand growled angrily and gave him an especially brutal thrust, burying his entire cock as deep as it would go and staying there, rolling his hips to open him further. He tightened his grip around Ray's throat with even more pressure, cutting off his breath for several seconds.

—Four… —Sand repeated in a dark voice—. Four motherfuckers who touched what belongs to me.

Ray, even with Sand's hand around his neck, managed to smile with that spoiled, provocative attitude. He took advantage of a moment when Sand loosened his grip slightly to strike back, looking him directly in the eyes as his ass tightened around the cock that was wrecking him.

—And you? —Ray asked in a hoarse, breathless voice, almost defiantly—. How many did you sleep with, huh? Tell me, Sand. How many fucking cocks or asses did you have while I was dying for you? Or were you “waiting for me” too?

The question only fueled Sand's anger. He pulled his cock almost completely out and slammed it back inside with a furious growl, fucking him with short, deep thrusts that struck directly against his prostate. His hand around Ray's throat didn't let go, keeping him exactly where he wanted him.

—Two —Sand replied through clenched teeth, never stopping as he fucked him as if he wanted to punish him—. Only two. And neither of them was worth a damn compared to you. Neither of them had this tight, hot ass that takes my cock like it was made for me.

Ray let out a long, needy moan when Sand sped up again, fucking him faster, angrier. Their sweaty, tense bodies collided with force. Ray tried to speak again, but Sand tightened his hand around his throat every time he opened his mouth, silencing him while he penetrated him mercilessly.

Sand pulled his cock out of Ray's ass with a growl and, without giving him time to react, roughly turned him over, putting him facedown. He grabbed Ray's hips, lifted his ass, and buried himself inside him again with one brutal thrust. The new position allowed him to go deeper, hitting hard against his prostate with every thrust.

—Four… —Sand repeated angrily, fucking him with hard, deep strokes as one hand closed around Ray's throat from behind again—. Four guys fucked you. Tell me their names.

Ray moaned loudly into the pillow, his ass tightening around the thick cock that was splitting him open.

—No… I don't remember their names… —he panted between thrusts—. They were just bodies… none of them had a cock as thick as yours… none of them fucked me as angrily as you're fucking me now… Fuck, Sand!

Sand let out a dry, furious laugh, picking up the pace, his balls striking hard against Ray's buttocks.

—How convenient. I remember both of mine. One was a drummer from another band. The other was some guy from the bar. Neither lasted more than one night because neither of them was you, you fucking spoiled brat.

Ray tried to turn his head to look at him, but Sand kept him pressed against the bed with one hand on the back of his neck. At that moment, with his face turned against the sheets, Ray opened his eyes and saw it: on the nightstand, still there after two years, was the small metal keychain he had given Sand. It was a crooked musical note that Ray had had specially made with their initials engraved on it. Sand had kept it. He had it right beside the bed.

Something broke inside Ray's chest. Tears began falling uncontrollably, mixing with his moans. His body trembled, not only from pleasure, but from an emotion that tightened his throat more than Sand's hand ever could.

—You still… you still have it… —Ray sobbed, his voice breaking as Sand continued fucking him deeply—. The keychain… you kept it…

Sand stopped dead, buried all the way inside Ray's hot ass. His breathing was ragged. Slowly, he released his hand from Ray's throat and remained still, feeling the body beneath him trembling with sobs.

—Of course I kept it —Sand murmured, his voice lower, still angry, but with something softer breaking through as well—. It was yours. All of this was yours.

He leaned over Ray's back, still inside him, and rested his forehead against his sweaty nape. His cock throbbed inside the tight ass, but he no longer moved.

Ray cried harder, his tears soaking the sheets.

—I'm a fucking mess… I left you… I screamed horrible things at you… and you still kept that piece of shit I gave you…

Sand closed his eyes, breathing against his skin. He didn't pull out, but he didn't keep fucking him either. He simply stayed there, connected to him, while the weight of those two years came crashing down on both of them.

—Because I'm a bigger idiot than you —Sand answered hoarsely—. Because even though you broke me, I could never throw away anything that belonged to you.

Sand remained buried deep inside Ray, unmoving, breathing against his nape. The silence was broken only by Ray's soft sobs.

—I'm sorry… —Ray whispered so quietly it was barely audible, his face buried in the damp sheets—. I'm sorry, Sand… I'm sorry I screamed at you, left you, acted like a selfish fucking asshole… I'm so sorry.

Sand heard him perfectly. His body tensed for a second and then, carefully but decisively, he pulled out of Ray. Ray let out a soft whimper at the loss, but before he could say anything else, Sand grabbed him by the hips and roughly turned him over, putting him on his back again, face-to-face.

Their eyes met. Ray's eyes were red, swollen, and full of tears. Sand positioned himself between his spread legs and slowly entered him again, this time filling him completely as he leaned over his body. Then he wrapped his arms tightly around him, chest against chest, sweaty skin against sweaty skin. Their cocks were trapped between their stomachs, hard and throbbing.

Ray completely broke down.

The sobs came out loud now, completely uncontrolled. He clung desperately to Sand's back, his nails digging into his skin as he cried against his neck.

—I missed you so much… —Ray cried, his voice breaking—. Every day was fucking miserable without you. I acted spoiled and dramatic with everyone because nobody was you. I love you… I love you and I'm a fucking mess, but I love you more than anything…

Sand held him tighter, gently rocking him while remaining inside him, not fucking him, just filling him, connected in the most intimate way possible. One of his hands moved up to the back of Ray's neck, holding him against his shoulder.

—Shh… it's okay —Sand murmured against his hair, his own voice hoarse and trembling—. You're here now. You're here, Ray.

Ray continued breaking down in his arms, but at the same time, something inside him was being rebuilt. Tear after tear, sob after sob, while Sand held him tightly and kept him filled with his cock, as if he wanted to remind him that this time, he wasn't going to let him go.

—Never again… —Ray whispered between hiccups, desperately kissing Sand's neck—. I'm never leaving again. Even if I'm an unbearable brat… stay with me. Please…

Sand tightened his embrace, pushing a little deeper inside him, slow and possessive, while kissing his temple.

—I'm here —he simply replied, his voice heavy with everything he wasn't saying—. And I'm not letting you go.

Ray kept crying in his arms, but now it was a calmer, cleaner kind of crying. He felt broken and rebuilt at the same time, with Sand inside him and holding him completely.

Ray slowly calmed down in Sand's arms, but his body was still hot and needy. With Sand still buried deep inside him, he began moving on his own. He moved his hips in slow circles at first, then with more intention, slowly fucking himself on Sand's thick cock while looking at him with bright, tear-filled eyes.

—Sand… —Ray whispered, breathing heavily, never stopping his movements—. Don't stop… I want to feel more of you…

Sand let out a low growl, clearly affected by Ray's movements, but instead of following his rhythm, he firmly grabbed Ray's hips to stop him. Then he raised his hands and cupped Ray's face with both of them, lovingly but decisively. His thumbs gently caressed his tear-streaked cheeks.

—Ray, look at me —Sand said in a low but serious voice, holding his face so he couldn't hide.

Ray looked up. His little eyes were red, swollen, and vulnerable, looking at him with that mixture of love, fear, and desire that only he could have. He looked so small and exposed like that, still impaled on Sand's cock.

—Are we getting back together? —Ray asked quietly, his voice almost trembling as he kept looking into his eyes—. Tell me the truth… are you going to give me another chance, or is this just… sex and that's it?

Sand kept his hands on Ray's face, caressing his cheekbones with his thumbs while feeling Ray's ass tighten around his cock from nervousness. He took a deep breath, staring directly at him.

—It's not just sex —Sand replied hoarsely—. But I'm not going to lie to you, Ray. I'm scared. Scared that in a month you'll throw another tantrum and leave again. Scared that your spoiled behavior will destroy us all over again.

Ray swallowed, his eyes shining with fresh tears, but he didn't look away. His hips moved a little again, almost instinctively, searching for more of that connection.

—Then tell me what I have to do —Ray whispered, his voice breaking—. Tell me how to prove to you that this time is different. Because I do want to get back together… I really do. I want to be your disaster again, but this time, I want to stay.

Sand brought his forehead against Ray's, still holding his face tenderly. Their bodies remained joined, Sand's cock throbbing inside Ray's hot ass, but for the moment neither of them moved with force. They simply looked at each other, breathing the same air.

—I want us to really talk —Sand said—. Not just fuck and cry. I want you to promise me that when you get scared, instead of running away, you'll stay and fight with me. Can you do that?

Ray nodded slowly, biting his lip, his eyes fixed on Sand's.

—I can… I'll try my hardest. I swear.

Sand stared at him in silence for a few seconds, still holding his face between his hands. His thumbs continued gently caressing Ray's damp cheeks.

—Okay —Sand finally said, his voice lower and hoarse—. Let's give it a try. But this time, we're going to do it right, Ray. No running away. No drama that destroys us. If you feel insecure or start acting spoiled, you tell me. You don't bottle that shit up until you explode.

Ray nodded, his eyes still shining as he kept them fixed on Sand's. His ass tightened around the cock that was still filling him completely.

Sand leaned forward and gave him a soft, lingering kiss on the forehead, staying there for a moment as he breathed in his scent. It was such a tender gesture that it contrasted with how deeply he was buried inside him.

—I love you —Sand murmured against his skin—. Even when you drive me crazy… I love you.

Ray let out a small, happy sob, wrapping his arms around Sand's neck. His hips began moving again instinctively, slow but insistent, slowly fucking himself on Sand's cock.

—I love you more… —Ray whispered against his neck—. Now fuck me, please… I want to feel that this is real.

Sand let out a low growl, kissed his forehead once more, and then moved down to his mouth, kissing him deeply as he began moving again. This time it wasn't just anger, but a mixture of possessiveness, love, and relief. He thrust more slowly but with strength, deep and deliberate, as if he wanted to leave his mark inside Ray.

Ray moaned against his lips, moving too to meet every thrust, his legs spread and trembling around Sand's hips.

—Like this? —Sand asked between kisses, never stopping as he fucked him with that intense, controlled rhythm.

—Yes… like that… don't stop… —Ray begged, turned on and emotional at the same time.

Sand clenched his teeth and changed the rhythm. It was no longer slow. He grabbed Ray's legs, lifting them until his knees nearly touched his chest, and began fucking him with precise, powerful thrusts, as if he knew exactly how to drive him crazy. Every stroke of his thick cock went all the way in, brushing and pounding against Ray's prostate without missing.

—You like it like this, don't you? —Sand growled, sweating as he drilled into him with quick, hard thrusts—Deep. Nice and open for me.

Ray moaned uncontrollably, his hands gripping the sheets, his ass tightening and throbbing around the cock that was wrecking him with pleasure. Sand knew exactly what he was doing: slightly changing the angle, slowing down for a second only to drive into him harder, rolling his hips to open him up more.

—Sand… fuck… right there… —Ray panted, his voice breaking.

Sand released one of Ray's legs, lowered his hand, and began stroking Ray's cock with firm, quick movements, synchronized with his thrusts. His thumb ran over the sensitive head, gathering the pre-cum and spreading it.

—You're dripping —Sand said roughly—. This ass is squeezing me like it wants to milk me dry.

Ray arched his back, moving his hips to take every thrust. The pleasure rose quickly, hot and unstoppable. Sand kept fucking him expertly, switching between short, brutal thrusts and long, deep movements that filled him completely.

—I want to come… —Ray begged, almost whining—. Sand, please…

—Not yet —Sand replied, though his own voice sounded strained. He sped up the movements of his hand around Ray's cock and began fucking him harder, faster, his balls slapping hard against his ass.

Ray's orgasm came first. He came with a muffled cry, his cock throbbing hard as he shot hot streams across his abdomen and Sand's chest. His ass clenched violently around Sand's cock, milking him.

Sand growled, released Ray's cock, and grabbed him firmly by the hips. He gave a few more deep, desperate thrusts before coming inside him with a guttural moan. His cock throbbed hard, filling Ray's ass with hot, thick spurts.

Sand remained inside Ray for a few more seconds, both of them breathing heavily, their bodies sticky with sweat and cum. Slowly, he pulled out, drawing a soft, exhausted moan from Ray. He collapsed beside him and, without saying a word, pulled him against his chest, holding him tightly.

Ray immediately curled up against him, hiding his face in his neck, still trembling from the orgasm and from everything they had released that night. Sand ran one hand down his back, caressing him with slow, firm strokes, while his other hand gently stroked his damp hair.

—Stay —Sand said without asking. It was a soft but definitive order—. You're not going anywhere tonight. Or tomorrow. Or next week, if it were up to me.

Ray let out a weak, exhausted laugh, but lifted his head slightly to look at him.

—Are you claiming me again that quickly? —he asked in a hoarse voice, though his eyes shone with something warm.

Sand looked at him seriously, without smiling, and wiped a dried tear from his cheek with his thumb.

—This time, yes. I'm not going to let you go that easily again, Ray. If you're scared, if you get spoiled, if you want to throw a tantrum… do it here. With me. But don't run away. We've already seen how that ends, and I didn't like it.

Ray swallowed and slowly nodded. He moved a little higher onto Sand's chest, wrapping his arms around him as if he never wanted to let him go.

—I want to stay —he whispered—. I want to stay with you. No more running away. No more “four guys” or “two guys.” Just you and me again. Even if it's difficult. Even if I'm a mess.

Sand kissed his forehead, then his temple, and finally his lips with a tenderness that contrasted with how furious everything had been just minutes before.

—Then stay —he repeated, holding him tighter—. Sleep here. Tomorrow we'll wake up together and start over. For real this time.

Ray smiled against his skin, calmer now, more at peace.

—Okay… I'll stay. But only if you hold me all night like you used to.

Sand let out a low laugh and pulled him against himself, covering them both with the sheet.

—Deal. I'm not letting you go.

They stayed like that, tangled together, breathing at the same rhythm. Ray lazily traced circles over Sand's chest with one finger while his eyes slowly closed. Sand continued stroking his back, protective, possessive, and in love.

For the first time in two years, the apartment no longer felt empty.

And Ray, for the first time in a long while, fell asleep feeling like he had truly come home.