I don’t hear the final applause. Not really. I feel it — the floor vibrating beneath our feet, the heat of the lights, the pulse of five years closing in like a door behind us. The last chord of History rings out and you're just to my left, the same place you've always been. Like instinct. We hold hands. Bow. Group hug.The five of us together, one last time. No one says it, but we all know it: This is the end of an era.

The after party is subdued. Champagne tastes like goodbye. Everyone’s pretending to laugh more than they are. We hug producers, dancers, family. And I keep my distance from you, just enough to keep it from showing. Because if anyone looked too close, they’d know. That I’m not thinking about the band. I’m thinking about you. How I’ve wanted you since the X Factor days — all wide eyes and soft smiles, sneaking Oreos from catering and humming harmonies under your breath. It was never just friendship. Not for me. But management said no. And the band meant too much. Now… there’s nothing left to protect.

It’s late when we reach the hotel. The boys drift to their rooms, tired and wired. We end up in the same room again — like always. It's never raised eyebrows. We’ve done it a hundred times. But this time, I close the door behind us and don’t move. You’re by the window, backlit by city lights, shoulders bare where your jacket slipped off. You look tired, but stunning. Worn and glowing.

You meet my eyes, and it’s like something’s settled. Like permission. I cross the room, wordless. I reach for your face first — thumb grazing your cheek, brushing under your jaw. You lean into it. That’s all it takes. My mouth is on yours. It’s slow at first — cautious but hungry. Your lips part for me like you’ve been waiting. I kiss you until I forget everything else. Until the rest of the world dissolves. Clothes peel off in layers. Familiar bodies becoming unfamiliar in the best way. My fingertips graze your spine, your ribs, your hips — discovering you like I’ve earned this. Like I’ve waited long enough.

We fall into bed, tangled limbs and breathless gasps. I slide between your thighs and you arch, soft and eager, pulling me closer with your hands on my back. God, I want to give you everything. I hold your hips steady, watching your face as I move — slow, deep, controlled. You’re so warm around me, I could lose my mind. Every breath you take makes me want to stay inside you forever. You sigh my name, and it sounds like home.

The second time, it’s rougher. Need clawed its way up our spines and we can’t pretend now. You whimper when I grip your thighs and pull you back to me. You’re already trembling, skin flushed and lips parted. I drag my mouth down your throat, licking, biting, claiming. “Still with me?” I murmur, voice rough with restraint. You nod, weak but wanting. I roll my hips slower this time, deeper, dragging it out just to feel you clutch at me, your fingers digging into my shoulders. “Yeah,” I breathe, “that’s it. Feel that?” You shudder. I can tell you’re sore already. I can feel it in how your legs shake around me, how your hips twitch every time I sink back in. I don’t stop.

I want to ruin you — sweet and slow.

“Remember this,” I whisper, mouth brushing your ear. “Tomorrow… next week… whenever you miss me. I want you aching from this.” I feel your breath catch, and it only makes me push harder. You gasp when I move again. Your back arches. Your nails scrape down my spine. I kiss you, messy and desperate, one hand cupping the back of your neck, the other gripping your thigh to keep you close. “Can’t get enough of you,” I groan, forehead pressed to yours. “Don’t want this to end.”