"I want to feel you come," I murmured against his ear. "Give it to me, Lorenzo. Surrender and give me what's mine."
His whole body went taut, every muscle locked and trembling. I pressed hard against that spot inside him, and he shattered. The sound he made was half my name, half prayer, entirely surrender.
Cum splashed over my chest and stomach as he rocked back against my fingers, moaning my name. It was almost enough to make my cock perk back up, but I was too tired for another round.
Instead, I worked him through the aftershocks until he collapsed against me, humming quietly with contentment.
The water had gone lukewarm. My face throbbed, pain creeping back in now that the morphine and adrenaline had both burned off. But I didn't want to move yet. Didn't want to let go of this moment where we were just two men who'd chosen each other despite everything the world said we should be.
"We should get you back to bed." Lorenzo's voice was wrecked. "Before you pass out on me."
"I'm fine."
"You're shaking."
I was. My arms felt hollow, and I was barely holding myself up, let alone him.
"Yeah," I admitted. "Okay."
Lorenzo climbed out first and helped me stand. He dried me carefully, and dressed me like I was something fragile. I let him because I was too tired to argue and because maybe being cared for wasn't weakness after all.
The bed was a mercy. I sank into it, and Lorenzo settled beside me, close enough that I could feel his warmth without him touching any of the injuries.
"The labyrinth," I said. My voice came out rough. "We're still doing this."
"You just lost an eye, Rafael. We could wait."
"No." I turned my head, met his gaze with my one good eye. "Constantine orchestrated all of it. Dionysus. Azevedo. The children. Everything. He needs to answer for what he's done."
Lorenzo was quiet for a moment, studying my face. Then he nodded once. "But right now I need you to rest. I'll be here when you wake up."
I smiled. It hurt, butthe pain was worth it.
"Dammit!" Hot coffee spilledeverywhere, and I scrambled to soak it up. I'd missed the coffee mug by a mile.
"Let me." Lorenzo reached to pour me a mug while I cleaned up my mess.
I abandoned my cleaning and yanked the coffee pot away from him. "I can do it myself."
"Rafael—"
"I'm half-blind, not helpless."
I poured again, moving the pot slower this time. The coffee hit the edge of the mug and splashed across my hand, hot enough to burn, but I didn't pull away. I gritted my teeth and kept pouring until I had something resembling a full cup.
Lorenzo just stood there watching me like I might break.
"Stop looking at me like that," I said.
"Like what?"
"Like I'm fragile." I set the pot down and turned to face him. "I can't judge distances anymore. My left side is just gone. But I'm not going to shatter if you stop hovering."
"I'm not hovering."
"You are." I grabbed my coffee mug and took a drink, grimacing at the bitter taste. "And we can't keep doing this."
His eyes narrowed. "Doing what?"
