The night was thick with the scent of rain-soaked asphalt and something far more primal—burnt adrenaline, the smoldering heat of survival. The storm had passed, but its echoes still lingered in the distant rumble of thunder and the way Matthew's blood buzzed beneath his skin. He stood shirtless in the hallway of their apartment, a towel slung loosely around his waist, droplets clinging to the sharp lines of his collarbones and trailing down his abdomen.
Vinny leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching him. No words. Just that charged silence. The kind that tasted of everything unsaid, of wounds still healing and hearts still aching.
Matthew's eyes met his. "You've been quiet."
Vinny exhaled, his voice a low drawl. "You almost died, Matt."
Matthew smirked, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. "So did you."
"But you don't get to joke about it," Vinny said, stepping in. The air shifted, thickening. "Not this time."
The towel slipped an inch lower.
"I'm serious," Vinny added, his gaze lingering on a bruise blooming purple across Matthew's ribs. "You think I can just watch you get torn apart and then go back to pretending this is all just a game of who's colder?"
Matthew took a step forward. "Then stop pretending."
They were inches apart now, the storm inside them reigniting. Vinny's fingers brushed over the bruise, soft and hesitant—like touching it might rewrite the past. Matthew hissed slightly, but didn't pull away.
"You still mad?" Matthew murmured.
Vinny shook his head. "I'm terrified."
"For what?"
"For what happens when I lose you."
Matthew leaned in, pressing his forehead to Vinny's. "Then don't."
And just like that, the distance between them evaporated. Vinny's lips crashed into his, desperate and demanding, teeth grazing, hands gripping his waist as if grounding himself. Matthew dropped the towel without a second thought, pulling Vinny in with a groan that sounded too much like surrender.
They stumbled into the bedroom, knocking over a chair, tangled in shadows and need. Every kiss was messy, every touch a confession. Matthew's fingers threaded into Vinny's hair, dragging him down onto the bed, reversing the weight of guilt with the weight of his body.
"I hate how much I love you," Vinny breathed between kisses.
Matthew chuckled darkly. "That's mutual, princeling."
Shirts were ripped—literally torn—tossed aside like old defenses. Vinny straddled him, hands splayed across Matthew's chest, mapping out every scar, every notch of bone, every unspoken story. He kissed each one like it was a promise.
"You know," Matthew said, voice breathless, "you never used to let yourself lose control."
Vinny's eyes glinted. "Then maybe it's time I did."
And he did.
The night blurred after that—limbs tangled, gasps swallowed into kisses, sheets wrinkled beyond repair. There was laughter too—low, drunken with relief. There were pauses, eyes meeting in the quiet aftermath of a breathless high, and then diving back in like they were starving.
It wasn't just sex. It was a language they hadn't spoken in a long time. And in that language, they told each other everything.
Hours passed.
By the time they lay still, the window was beginning to glow with the promise of dawn. Vinny lay on his side, tracing invisible patterns along Matthew's spine. "I don't want to fight anymore."
Matthew turned his head, eyes sleepy but alert. "Neither do I. But we still have one last thing to burn down."
Vinny nodded slowly. "And then?"
Matthew reached back, fingers curling around Vinny's wrist. "Then...we decide what living really means."
The weight of those words settled over them like a second blanket. Finality. But not of an ending—of a beginning sharpened by everything they'd lost and gained.
Vinny kissed his shoulder. "Don't go dying again. I just got you back."
Matthew smirked, but it was softer this time. "Wouldn't dream of it."
Outside, the world continued to turn.
Inside, two broken boys found peace between the ashes and the embers.
The air in the room was thick with heat—not just from the summer night pressing against the windows, but from the way Vinny looked at me, a slow, simmering fire barely contained behind those dark eyes. I could feel it as keenly as my own pulse pounding through my veins, a rhythmic drum beating faster the closer he sat beside me on the couch.
I shifted, unable to stop my gaze from tracing the line of his jaw, the way the light caught the small scar just below his ear, how the curve of his neck begged for a touch I didn't dare give... yet. My fingers twitched with that craving, restless and sharp.
"Hey," Vinny's voice broke through the quiet, low and teasing. "You look like you're about to explode or something."
A smirk tugged at my lips despite the tension coiling in my chest. "Maybe I am."
His eyes glinted, mischievous and dark. "Good. Because I'm about to set you off."
He shifted, and suddenly the warmth of his body pressed against mine, electric and dangerous. I swallowed, heart hammering as he slid closer, until his thigh brushed against mine. My skin prickled like static.
I dared a glance at him, catching the flicker of challenge there. "Vinny..."
"Shh." His finger traced the line of my jaw, light as a whisper. "No talking. Just... this."
And then his lips were on mine.
It wasn't a gentle kiss. It was fierce, claiming, filled with the hunger we'd kept bottled up for so long—dangerous and desperate. My hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, needing every inch of him.
The world narrowed down to the heat of his mouth, the way his body molded perfectly to mine, and the wild pounding of my heart like a war drum. I tasted the sharp tang of him—tension, desire, and something softer beneath it all.
When we finally broke apart, gasping, the room felt charged, alive with the spark we'd ignited. Vinny's dark eyes searched mine, vulnerable and daring all at once.
"I've wanted this forever," he murmured, voice low and rough.
"Me too." My hands slid down to his waist, pulling him flush against me. "More than you know."
His breath hitched, and he leaned in again, lips brushing my neck. I groaned softly, head falling back as his teeth nipped gently at the sensitive skin just below my ear.
"Tell me what you want," he whispered, voice dripping with promise.
I swallowed the lump in my throat. "I want you. All of you. No holding back."
Vinny's grin was wicked, eyes alight with a fire that made my insides ache. "Then show me."
We stumbled back toward the bedroom, urgency taking over. Clothes fell away in a chaotic trail behind us, skin meeting skin in a rush of heat and need. His hands were everywhere—on my back, my chest, my thighs—leaving trails of fire wherever they touched.
I could feel his breath on my collarbone, hear the ragged edge to his voice as he pulled me close. "You're mine tonight," he growled.
I nodded, voice thick with desire. "Always."
Our bodies moved together, perfectly attuned after months of stolen glances and whispered promises. Every touch sent shivers through me, every kiss ignited a new blaze.
Vinny's lips traveled lower, worshipping my skin with slow, deliberate care. I arched into him, gasping as his tongue traced the sensitive curve of my shoulder, down to the hollow of my collarbone.
"God, you're beautiful," he breathed.
"Not as beautiful as you," I whispered, pulling him up for a searing kiss.
The night stretched out before us—endless and electric. We lost ourselves in each other, in the wild dance of passion and connection. Time blurred until all that existed was the heat of our bodies and the pounding of our hearts.
Hours later, we lay tangled together, sweat-slick and sated, breaths mingling in the quiet aftermath.
Vinny traced lazy circles on my chest, eyes shining with something deeper. "This... us... it's real, right?"
I cupped his face, thumb stroking his cheek. "More real than anything."
He smiled softly, his fingers curling into mine. "Then no matter what happens, we fight for this."
I pressed my forehead to his. "Always."
The night held us like a fragile promise, a flicker of hope in a world that had thrown everything at us. We were bruised, battered, but unbroken—bound by something stronger than pain or fear.
And as I held Vinny close, feeling the steady beat of his heart against mine, I knew this was only the beginning.