The morning light spilled through the balcony curtains, warm and golden, casting soft shadows across tangled sheets and bare skin.
Ethan stirred first.
His cheek was pressed against Joss's chest, the steady rise and fall of breath beneath him like a lullaby. One of Joss's arms was wrapped around his waist, the other curled under his head, fingers tangled in Ethan's hair like he'd never let go.
Ethan blinked slowly, the memory of the night before washing over him in waves—soft kisses, whispered promises, the way Joss had touched him like he was something sacred.
He shifted slightly.
Joss murmured something unintelligible, then tightened his hold.
"Morning," he rasped, voice thick with sleep.
Ethan smiled, cheeks warming. "Morning."
Joss tilted his head down, kissed Ethan's forehead gently. "You look even better in daylight."
Ethan groaned, burying his face in Joss's chest. "Don't start."
"Oh, I'm just getting started," Joss teased, fingers trailing lazily down Ethan's spine. "You were very vocal last night. Should I remind you?"
Ethan sat up abruptly, face flushed. "I'm going to shower."
Joss laughed, watching him scramble for his towel. "Running away already?"
Ethan didn't answer—just disappeared into the bathroom, heart thudding, skin still tingling.
He stood at the sink, staring at his reflection.
His hair was tousled, lips slightly swollen, and just below his collarbone—faint but unmistakable—a kiss mark bloomed like a secret.
He touched it gently.
His heart skipped.
It was his first.
And it was from Joss.
He didn't hear the door open.
Didn't notice until Joss's voice curled around him like smoke.
"You didn't lock. Was it an invitation?"
Ethan jumped, eyes wide. "I— I forgot. I don't usually lock. My roommate's a guy."
Joss leaned against the doorframe, boxer briefs hanging low on his hips, eyes dark and amused.
"Lucky me," he said, stepping closer.
Ethan backed up instinctively, bumping into the sink.
Joss reached out, fingers brushing the kiss mark. "Still there. I like that."
Ethan swallowed. "Joss…"
Joss didn't wait.
He hooked his fingers into the waistband of Ethan's towel and tugged gently.
Ethan's breath hitched.
Even though he'd seen all of Joss the night before—felt him, tasted him—there was something different about daylight. About seeing him now, golden and bare, confident and unguarded.
Joss stepped closer, crowding him against the sink.
"You're blushing," he murmured.
"I'm not used to this," Ethan whispered.
Joss kissed his cheek. "Then let me help you get used to it."
He turned on the shower, steam beginning to rise.
Then, with a grin, he pushed Ethan gently toward the glass door.
Ethan resisted, hands on Joss's chest. "Wait—"
But Joss caught his wrists, kissed his knuckles, then guided him inside.
The water was warm.
The tiles cool against Ethan's back.
Joss stepped in after him, closing the door behind them.
They stood there for a moment—steam curling around their bodies, water cascading down their skin.
Joss leaned in, lips brushing Ethan's ear. "You can tell me to stop."
Ethan didn't.
He couldn't.
Joss kissed him—slow, wet, open-mouthed—hands sliding down Ethan's sides, gripping his hips.
Ethan gasped, fingers clutching Joss's shoulders.
The water made everything slick—skin against skin, breath against breath.
Joss pressed closer, their bodies aligning, heat rising between them like a tide.
He kissed down Ethan's neck, tracing the kiss mark again, tongue flicking over it.
Ethan moaned softly, head falling back.
Joss's hands roamed—over Ethan's chest, his stomach, his thighs—every touch deliberate, reverent.
Ethan's knees buckled slightly.
Joss caught him.
Held him.
Lifted him gently, pinning him against the cool tile, water cascading over them both.
Their mouths met again—hungry now, desperate.
Joss's hips rolled forward, slow and teasing.
Ethan whimpered, fingers digging into Joss's back.
The steam thickened.
Their breath mingled.
Every movement was a question, an answer, a promise.
And Ethan gave in.
Not just to the heat.
But to the man who made him feel wanted.
Worshipped.
Loved.
The steam clung to their skin like a second layer, warm and thick, muffling the outside world.
Joss's lips were on Ethan's shoulder now, trailing kisses down to the curve of his back, hands still exploring, still claiming.
Ethan's breath came in soft gasps, his body pliant, humming with sensation.
But somewhere in the haze—between the heat and the heartbeat—reality tugged at him.
He blinked.
Then gently pushed at Joss's chest.
"Wait," he whispered.
Joss paused, lips hovering just above Ethan's skin. "Hmm?"
Ethan swallowed, cheeks flushed, voice barely steady. "We have to get ready. The hike. The others are probably waiting."
Joss groaned dramatically, resting his forehead against Ethan's shoulder. "You're ruining my fantasy."
Ethan laughed, breathless. "I'm saving us from being the couple that shows up late and suspiciously glowing."
Joss pulled back, eyes twinkling. "We are glowing."
Ethan rolled his eyes, reaching for the towel. "Come on. If we're late, Ashton's going to say something."
Joss raised an eyebrow. "Jealous?"
Ethan didn't answer.
He just stepped out of the shower, wrapping the towel around his waist, trying not to look too flustered.
Joss followed, grabbing his own towel, still grinning. "Fine. But tonight, no interruptions."
Ethan glanced at him, lips twitching. "Tonight, you'll have to earn it."
Joss laughed, low and warm. "Challenge accepted."
They dressed quickly, the air still thick with the scent of steam and skin and something sweeter—something that lingered between them like a promise.
Outside, the sun was high.
The others were already gathering near the trailhead, voices rising in excitement.
Ethan and Joss stepped out of their room, side by side, shoulders brushing.
And though the day was just beginning, Ethan felt it—that quiet fire still burning beneath his skin.