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Their plans dissolve when they step out of the bathroom and find Dennis's phone lit up with a new message from the young guard's number:

L planning raid on Kim estate tonight. Says if can't find son will take someone else's. Smoke C out of his hole he said. Guards tripled, weapons packed. Moving in 3 hrs. Be careful hyung.

Dennis's hands shake as he forwards it to Isabelle. Within minutes, her footsteps sound on the stairs. They meet her halfway, Chris's grip tight in Dennis’s hand.

"Time to call your father," she says, holding out a burner phone. "Show him some goodwill, let him think you're reaching out first."

Chris nods once, jaw set. Dennis feels Chris's fingers tighten between his.

"You okay?" Dennis watches Chris punch in the numbers, his hand trembling. But Chris's face tells a different story—pure rage simmering under the surface.

"Yeah." Chris's voice clips short. "Let's get this shit done."

Four rings, then Christopher Lancaster's voice fills the line, smooth as oil:

"Running away just means the next time we bring you home, we'll use horse tranquilizers instead of chloroform. You're only making this harder on yourself."

Chris paces the length of the bedroom, phone on speaker. "Nice try, Dad. But how about leaving me the fuck alone? I'm not some kid you can push around anymore. When I join you, it'll be on my own terms."

His father's laugh isn’t unamused, but it’s indulgent in the way someone might sound if they don’t quite believe. "And when might that be, son?"

"Soon." Chris's eyes lock onto Dennis's across the room. "But get this through your thick skull—I'm half of you, always will be. And I'll never be your fucking lapdog."

"I must say, I'm impressed." His father's voice swells with pride that makes Dennis's skin crawl. "Taking out those guards while drugged? Organizing a contingency getaway? You truly are my son."

A pause, then: "What about your pretty architect?" Ice cubes clink against glass on the other end. "Will you handle that, ah, situation, or shall I?"

Dennis's anger flares hot in his gut, but Chris is next to him in a minute with fingers threaded through his, dousing the heat instantly.

"I've got everything under control," Chris says, each word confident. "He's agreed to sell his shares tomorrow evening. Public press conference, cameras everywhere—no room for mistakes. Consider it my show of faith."

The call ends. Chris drops the phone and turns into Dennis, letting out a shaky breath. Before either can speak, Dennis's phone buzzes.

Lancaster's number.

Dennis picks up immediately. "Christopher," Dennis answers, making his voice waver.

"Dennis." Lancaster breathes out heavily. "These absurd allegations in the press..." Another weighted exhale. "I hope you know I would never do anything— anything —to harm Kim Industries. To harm you."

"Oh, that." Dennis lets his voice drift, distracted. "I haven't really been following it. There's been so much else going on."

A short pause, then Lancaster's laugh comes rich with amusement. "You must have a lot on your mind."

"Chris came back." Dennis injects a dreamy quality into his words. "He convinced me selling to your company is for the best. I trust his judgment completely."

"Is that so?" Lancaster's tone sharpens with interest. "How are you holding up? It can't be easy, taking him back after what he did to your project." The words drip false sympathy.

"I..." Dennis swallows hard. "He says he's changed."

"And you believe him?" A soft laugh, like sharing a private joke. "Love makes fools of us all, doesn't it?"

"Maybe I am a fool." Dennis meets Chris's eyes, seeing the muscle twitch in his jaw. He squeezes Chris's hand until their knuckles go white, relief flooding through him when Chris squeezes back just as hard. "But my heart chose him. I have to believe that means something."

"Of course it does." Lancaster's voice turns honeyed. "But if he ever... disappoints you again. Know that you can always call me and I'll be there for you."

"Thank you, Christopher." Dennis lets his voice shake. "That means so much."

The moment he ends the call, Chris is on him. His hands seize Dennis's face with a violence that speaks only of protection, of need.

"I would never," Chris presses the words against Dennis's mouth, pushing their foreheads together like he needs to fuse them into one being. "Never use you like that. Even pretending—" His voice cracks. "Makes me sick to my stomach."

"I know." Dennis pulls him closer until there's not a breath between them. "I know you."

"I don't give a shit what he does to me," Chris's voice roughens. "He pulls this crap all the time. Haven't been dragged back like that in years, but whatever. I'm used to it. I just—" His hands tighten on Dennis's face. "I can't be away from you again. Not ever."

"If you think I'm letting you out of my sight, you're more fucked up than I thought," Dennis says with forced lightness but his voice falters.

Chris tips Dennis's head back, marking up his neck with hungry bites that'll show tomorrow before claiming his mouth. Their eyes fall shut as their tongues seek together, relearning each taste and texture they've missed.

"Missed you," Chris breathes between kisses, plastering Dennis against his chest so Dennis has no choice but to take kiss after kiss, giving back just as fierce. "Missed this. Missed us. Need you now, can't wait," Chris's voice is rough and low.

"Me too, baby. Me too." Dennis tugs at Chris's bathrobe until it puddles around his feet, then shrugs off his own.

Chris stares like he's seeing Dennis for the first time, hands dragging down his sides, over his front, gripping his hips to pull them flush. Their cocks press together and Dennis gasps, fingers digging into Chris's forearms as the sensation hits too potent, too good after so long apart.

"Let me take care of you tonight." Dennis's fingers thread through Chris's hair as he knocks their heads together. Chris rubs their noses side to side, trying to catch Dennis's lips until Dennis laughs at his eagerness. "You deserve it."

Chris stays quiet but Dennis can feel his heart hammering under his palm, his cock hot and hard against Dennis's hip.

Dennis leads him to the bed with simple linked fingers. He sits on the edge, feet on the floor, and pulls Chris down until he's hovering over Dennis. Then Dennis drops back and rolls them so Chris is flat on his back, Dennis above him.

"Fuck," Chris breathes. "You're so hot it's actually stupid."

"Sit up. I want you to watch."

Chris scrambles up against the headboard so fast Dennis has to bite back a laugh. His eyes are huge, focused on Dennis like he's afraid to miss a single second.

Dennis crawls up for a kiss to start. Pecks Chris's nose as a promise for more. Then he's at Chris's jaw, working up to his ear, back down to lap at his throat. He feels every bump of Chris's Adam's apple with his tongue, sucking hickeys into the skin to stake his claim.

Chris's hands roam everywhere—Dennis's back, sides, thighs—touching like he needs to make sure Dennis is real.

Dennis moves lower, leaving purple-red marks across Chris's chest. He takes each nipple in his mouth, testing with his tongue, looking for what makes Chris's breath hitch and his muscles tense tonight. He does it again and again, building Chris's arousal into something that'll knock him out till morning—help him rest and recover.

When Dennis is on his knees sucking down Chris's abs, he feels Chris's muscles twitch, his cock slapping against Dennis's chin.

Dennis pulls back, looking up. "Everything okay?"

Chris groans, shifting like he's torn between staying still and moving. "It's your ass."

Dennis wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, saliva shining where he'd been mouthing at Chris's navel and leaving love bites on his hip bones. "What about it?"

"The lower you go, the higher it gets. Seeing it up there and not being able to do anything is killing me."

Dennis laughs, low and rich, making Chris's hands flex on his skin.

"Okay baby, let me give you something special."

He rises up on his knees and Chris's hands slide down his sides, watching him like he’s starving . Dennis turns around, moving up, up, higher until he's on his hands and feet, knees bent in the air. His face hovers just above Chris's cock while his ass sits right at Chris's eye level.

"No eating," Dennis warns. "I know how you get—we'll be here all night."

Chris sighs against Dennis's hole, rubbing his face between his cheeks, trying to get his tongue on Dennis's balls until Dennis rocks forward.

"Nuh uh. Tonight's about making you feel better and getting rest, okay? Can you be good for me?"

Dennis drops to his elbows and starts mouthing at Chris's cock, not quite sucking, just letting his tongue play with the slit. Precum beads instantly—it's been too long. His own cock drips onto Chris's chest, sliding down his abs.

"Okay," Chris's voice sounds hoarse. "I'll be good, princess. But you promise after all this is over—"

"I promise," Dennis smiles against Chris's crotch before taking him in.

He rolls his tongue as he sucks, groaning at how much he's missed this—Chris's scent, his taste, that delicate skin under his foreskin. The deeper Chris slides into his throat, the more Dennis rocks his hips, rubbing himself against Chris's face while Chris kneads his ass, pulling his cheeks apart.

"Just looking, just looking," Chris whispers into his hole before turning to bite the curve of his ass hard enough to make Dennis yelp. "Fuck, you're beautiful princess, all for me, only mine. Shit, I won't last another minute."

Dennis knows—he won't either. It should be embarrassing how fast they're racing to the edge when they usually spend hours drawing out each other's pleasure. But this has to be some kind of record.

"Can't hold back, baby," Chris pants, his cock swelling on Dennis's tongue, the head turning purple and shiny with desire.

Dennis spins off the bed, making Chris look like he's been shot. "Princess!" he exclaims, forehead creased, eyebrows so wrinkled that Dennis grins into the back of his hand.

"Here, quick." Dennis drops to his knees on the floor.

Chris pivots, bracketing Dennis with his knees.

Then Dennis takes him as deeply as he can, until his throat spasms, his eyes become watery, and his spit thickens. He gently squeezes Chris's balls with one hand while the other grips the base of his cock, trying to hold back Chris's release, but Chris writhes. "Baby, I can't—I'm—"

Dennis pulls off then looks up, mouth open, tongue out. Chris's fingers twist in his hair as he strokes himself against Dennis's face, cock slapping across his tongue and nose. "I love you I love you I love you," Chris chants, dazed, before spurting across Dennis's face—over his eye, his cheeks, the bridge of his nose.

Dennis laps up the cum dripping down Chris's thighs and shaft, then uses his fingers to wipe off the mess on his face, maintaining eye contact as he licks them clean.

"Fuck, princess," Chris breathes, eyes about to fall out of his head.

Dennis rises, pressing one knee into the mattress. The bed dips under his weight as he takes Chris's face in his hands, kissing him deep while Chris kneads his ass, fingers teasing his hole. Dennis rocks into the touch until Chris's circles turn purposeful—like he's about to prep him—and Dennis clicks his tongue.

"None of that tonight," he says, voice wrecked from deepthroating. "Or we'll never finish."

"Okay, okay." Chris steals more kisses as his hand wraps around Dennis's cock.

A few strokes is all it takes before Dennis is coming harder than he has in weeks, his arms looped around Chris's neck, holding him tightly against his chest. Chris's face buries into Dennis's skin, his breath hot and ragged as Dennis fights to keep his moans quiet, muffling them against Chris's hair.

When the tremors subside, Dennis takes Chris's cum-covered hand by the wrist, and eyes trained on Chris's, licks his own release clean. Chris's breathing turns ragged as Dennis crowds him back onto the bed, urging him to the center.

Dennis holds Chris’s chin still and squeezes his cheeks so his mouth opens. Then he transfers the cum from his mouth to Chris's before swooping down to kiss him properly, their tongues coiling together as they share the taste.

They collapse beside each other, spent. Chris's arm pulls Dennis close—almost too hot in the cool night but Dennis doesn't care. He peppers kisses along Chris's chest, nuzzles into his armpit, trails fingers through the dark line of hair below his navel until they're both half-asleep. Chris looks too blissed out to move.

"Tomorrow," Chris murmurs, eyes closing.

"Tomorrow," Dennis agrees, yawning into Chris’s skin. "But tonight is just us."

Chris pulls him closer until Dennis's leg drapes over his hip. For a few precious hours, they let their world narrow to this—just them, just here, just now.