Steve barely had time to react.
One second, he was turning away.
The next—
Christian grabbed him.
And then—Christian's lips crashed against his.
Steve sucked in a sharp breath, caught completely off guard as Christian clung to him, hands gripping his jacket like he was afraid Steve would disappear again.
The kiss was desperate. Furious.
Four years of pain and longing poured into one brutal, aching collision.
Then—just as suddenly—
Christian pulled away.
And slapped him.
The sharp crack of it echoed down the alleyway.
Steve barely felt the pain.
Because Christian was crying.
Tears streamed down his face, his chest rising and falling in ragged, uneven breaths. His hands shook as he pointed a trembling finger at Steve.
"Four years." Christian's voice broke. "I looked for you for four fucking years and you just—" His breath hitched. "You just left me?"
Steve opened his mouth—
But Christian wasn't done.
"I quit my job for you," he choked out, his body shaking. "I gave up everything because I loved you. Because I thought—" His voice wavered, his fingers curling into fists. "I thought you loved me too."
Steve flinched.
Because that?
That hurt.
Christian pressed the heel of his palm against his eyes, letting out a sharp, shuddering breath.
"I waited," he whispered, his voice raw. "I waited for you to come back. I told myself you had to come back because—" He exhaled sharply. "Because you promised me, Steve."
Steve's throat tightened.
He had promised.
And he had broken that promise.
He looked at Christian now—really looked at him.
He had slimmed down. Not unhealthy, but not the same strong, confident man Steve had once known.
And his eyes—
His eyes were haunted.
Not just from what had happened four years ago—
But from the loneliness.
From the waiting.
Steve's chest ached.
Without thinking, he reached forward—hesitant, unsure—
But Christian didn't pull away.
Didn't flinch.
So Steve closed the distance, wrapping his arms around him, pulling him close.
Christian let out a sharp breath—then collapsed against him.
His fingers twisted into Steve's jacket, his body trembling, his breath coming in short, shuddering gasps.
Steve held him tight.
Pressed his face against Christian's hair.
And for the first time in years—
He let himself break, too.
"I was scared," Steve whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I was so fucking scared of losing you again."
Christian shook.
Steve squeezed his eyes shut. "I thought if I left, you'd be safe. That you'd move on. That you'd be happy." He swallowed. "But I was wrong."
Christian let out a weak, broken laugh. "No shit."
Steve pulled back just enough to cup Christian's face, his thumbs brushing away the tears.
"I'm sorry," he said, his voice rough. "I never should've left you."
Christian sniffled, his lips trembling. "No," he whispered. "You shouldn't have."
Steve exhaled shakily.
He didn't deserve this.
Didn't deserve him.
But Christian was here.
Holding onto him.
Not letting go.
And Steve?
Steve wasn't going anywhere.
Not this time.
Never again.