After the Meeting
Sky spotted Siddharth by the corner of the hallway and strolled up to him, his tone light and teasing.
"My dear best friend," he grinned, "what are you doing, working so seriously?"
Siddharth rolled his eyes, used to Sky's flair. "Trying to get things done, unlike someone who just flirts their way through life."
Sky laughed, the sound effortless. He tossed a wink at a girl nearby and she giggled. He was different now—more confident, more magnetic. The past few years had changed him.
Micah saw it too. He was a few steps away, helping his brother but half-distracted—watching Sky from the corner of his eye.
Then Sky laughed again, this time softer, leaning in toward the girl. Something flickered across Micah's face—something sharp and fleeting.
Jealousy.
Without a word, he muttered, "I'm going to the restroom," and walked off.
Sky caught it. The way Micah's shoulders tensed, the way he avoided eye contact.
With a smirk, he turned to the girl and said, "I'll be right back, sweetheart," before casually slipping away to follow him.
Restroom Scene
Micah barely had time to shut the door before Sky stepped in behind him.
"Hey—"
Micah spun around, grabbed Sky by the wrist, and pulled him in sharply, locking the door with a click.
"Micah, what—?"
But he didn't answer.
He kissed him.
Hard. Desperate. Like something had been building inside him for far too long.
Sky stumbled back against the counter, surprised—but he didn't resist. His hands instinctively found Micah's shoulders, holding on.
Micah's lips pressed against his, moving with urgency. His hands roamed beneath Sky's shirt, mapping familiar skin.
Sky gasped between kisses. "Hey… slow down," he whispered, breath shaky. "Someone might hear us."
Micah's hands didn't stop. They slid over his chest, fingers tracing lines that made Sky shiver. He leaned in closer, breath warm against Sky's ear.
"I saw you," he murmured. "Flirting out there. Smiling like you used to—like I was never even in the room."
Sky's breath caught. "Micah…"
Micah pulled him tighter, forehead pressed to Sky's. His voice dropped. "I hated it."
The confession landed like a spark.
Sky's heart beat faster. "So this is jealousy?"
Micah looked up. "This is me not wanting to lose you again."
They kissed again—slower this time. Deeper. More careful.
Clothes loosened. Hands moved with intention. There was heat, yes—but underneath it, something tender. Something raw.
Sky leaned back against the mirror, eyes fluttering closed. "You always do this," he whispered. "Catch me off guard."
Micah smiled against his skin. "You make it too easy."
Suddenly—a knock on the door.
"Hey, is someone in there?"
They froze.
Sky opened his eyes, breathless. "Micah… we should stop."
Micah exhaled slowly, frustrated. "Almost done," he called back, trying to sound casual.
"Alright. Just don't take forever," the voice replied, fading away.
Sky shook his head, half-laughing. "This is so reckless."
Micah leaned in, forehead resting on Sky's. "So are you."
They kissed once more, softer now, like a promise. Then, reluctantly, they stepped back, fixing their shirts, straightening their clothes.
Micah adjusted his collar and glanced at Sky with a teasing smile. "If you keep looking that good, next time I'm not stopping."
Sky chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "If you ever pull this again during work hours, I swear I'll lock you out."
"Try me," Micah said, then leaned in and kissed his forehead. "I missed you."
Sky's smile faded into something quieter. "I missed you too."
They slipped out one after the other, returning to the noise and light of the day—calmer on the outside, but carrying the storm in their chests.
Later That Night
Sky got home late.
He tossed his bag aside, kicked off his shoes, and sank into bed, still feeling the echo of Micah's touch on his skin, still hearing his voice in his ear.
He stared at the ceiling for a long moment, heart still unsteady.
Then he whispered into the quiet:
"…You idiot. You still have me."
Sleep took him soon after.