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The knock on the door shattered the silence.

Silas froze, every muscle in his body going rigid.

His  heart thundered so loud it filled his ears.

For a split second, his mind betrayed him—it’s them. The agents. The ones he sold out. The ones who would drag him out in cuffs for choosing Mateo over them.

He pictured the door bursting open, guns raised, voices shouting his name, calling him a traitor. His stomach twisted, fear biting hard as his fingers dug into the sheets.

The knock came again, steady, heavier this time. Silas’s chest clenched. God… what if it’s really them? What if they found out everything?

Sweat prickled at his temple, his imagination spinning cruel pictures of being hauled away, of Mateo never seeing him again.

Silas swallowed hard, forcing himself to move.

“One… two… three…” he whispered, each step toward the door like it weighed a hundred pounds. His breath trembled as his hand gripped the handle. This is it.

With a sharp pull, he yanked the door open—

No one.

His chest deflated, confusion flickering across his face. And then—

“Booh!”

Mateo jumped out from the side, all teeth and laughter, shoving Silas gently back inside. The door slammed shut behind them as Mateo pinned him against it, grinning like a devil.

Silas gasped, clutching his chest. “Oh my god—you scared me!”

Mateo leaned in, nose brushing his jaw, voice low and teasing. “Scared you? C’mon, pretty boy, I thought you liked when I make your heart race.”

Silas groaned, cheeks flushing hot. “That’s not funny…”

Mateo’s grin only widened, his lips dangerously close. “Feels funny to me.”

Mateo’s eyes softened as he studied him, the smirk fading . His thumb brushed over Silas’s cheek, tilting his chin up.

“Why’s my pretty boy so restless, hm?” he murmured, voice low,  against Silas’s skin. “Heart beating like you just ran a marathon… what were you thinking about while I was gone?”

Silas’s lips parted, but no sound came out. Mateo’s gaze dragged over him, hungry, reading every flicker in his expression like an open book.

“Tell me,” Mateo whispered, pressing closer, his breath hot against Silas’s ear. “Were you scared? Or were you just missing me too much?”

Silas’s head spun, thoughts colliding so fast it almost made him dizzy. Never thought I’d see you again. How the hell did you fucking escape the agents? His chest was tight, the question burning at the back of his throat.

But when he finally spoke, his voice came out soft, shaky—faking calm, hiding everything he couldn’t admit.

“It’s nothing,” he whispered, eyes darting away before snapping back to Mateo. “I just… really missed you. And I wondered why you left me all alone.”

The words cracked a little at the end, vulnerable, needy—masking the storm inside him with something Mateo would swallow whole.

Mateo cupped Silas’s face with both hands, his thumbs brushing over the trembling curve of his lips. His voice dropped, low and intimate, every word soaked in heat.

“Now I’m here,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against Silas’s. “No more alone. No more waiting. Just me and you, pretty boy.”

His mouth claimed Silas’s slowly at first, tongues dangling deeply, pulling every restless ache out of him.

Mateo pressed him tighter against the door, their bodies flush, his hands roaming like he couldn’t get enough.

“God,” Mateo groaned against his lips, breath ragged, “you don’t even know what you do to me. I swear, I could burn the whole world down, just to come back to this.”

Silas broke the kiss with a shaky push against Mateo’s chest, cheeks flushed, lips swollen. His voice came out soft but firm, trying to steady the heat between them.

“Why don’t you take some rest?” he murmured, eyes darting away, then back to Mateo’s dark stare. “I know you’re tired…”

Mateo chuckled low, catching Silas’s wrist and kissing his palm. “Tired? Maybe.” He leaned in, brushing his lips down the side of Silas’s neck. “But not too tired for you.”

Silas’s breath caught, his push faltering, his body betraying him as heat rolled through his veins.

Silas pressed his hands harder against Mateo’s chest this time, desperate to create space between them. His voice trembled, forcing calm he didn’t feel.

“Mateo, please… just go rest, okay? You don’t have to… to ..do this.”

Mateo froze for half a beat, then tilted his head, eyes narrowing with that dangerous mix of hurt and amusement. Slowly, a smirk spread across his lips.

“Leave you?” His laugh was low, sharp, disbelieving. “After everything? After I fought my way back just to see this pretty face?”

Silas’s throat bobbed. “I just… I don’t want to be the reason you wear yourself out.”

Mateo leaned in again, his hand sliding down Silas’s side, stubborn and unrelenting. “You are the reason I don’t rest. You’re in my head, in my blood, everywhere. And I’m not going anywhere, Silas. Get that through your stubborn little skull.”

His mouth brushed Silas’s ear, voice dropping darker. “You can push me, fight me, tell me to leave. But I’ll still be here. Because you’re mine.”

Mateo’s lips grazed down the side of Silas’s neck, hot and lingering, making his skin shiver.

But Silas’s mind was far away, caught in a storm he couldn’t quiet. How do I tell you, Mateo? How do I tell you I’m scared of our future?

Each kiss only pushed the thought deeper, harder. What if the agents come back? What if this ends bloody? What if you’re taken from me, or worse, I’m the one dragged away?

He wanted to speak, to spill it all, but his throat locked tight, fear strangling the words. So instead, he just tilted his head, letting Mateo kiss him deeper—pretending he wasn’t breaking inside.

Mateo slowed, his mouth pausing against Silas’s neck. His sharp eyes studied him, catching the stiffness in his shoulders, the way his hands weren’t clutching him back like usual.

“You’re quiet tonight,” Mateo murmured, his tone softer, probing.

Silas forced a small smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Mateo let the silence drag for a moment, then exhaled sharply, dragging his tongue across his lower lip before pulling back.

“Fine,” he said, wiping his mouth with his thumb. “I’ll leave you be.”

He turned away without another word, stripping off his jacket as he crossed to the bed. The mattress dipped under his weight, his broad frame sinking into the sheets, back propped against the headboard.