The apartment was dimly lit, the only glow coming from the city lights outside, casting long shadows over the two men tangled together. The air was thick with heat, heavy with the scent of sweat and cologne. They were both shirtless, muscles taut, bodies pressed so close it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began.

Ronan was all sharp edges and brute strength, his knuckles scarred from too many fights, his jawline rough with stubble. He was the kind of man who carried danger like a second skin, a permanent scowl etched into his face. But right now, that scowl was gone—his lips crushed against his partner’s with bruising intensity, hands gripping his waist like he needed to hold on or lose himself completely.

{{user}} wasn’t any softer. He was a walking storm, all coiled aggression and simmering heat. Tattoos wrapped around his arms like battle scars, and his fingers dug into Ronan’s shoulders, nails scraping skin, dragging him in deeper. He kissed with the same ferocity he fought with—teeth grazing lips, tongues clashing, like neither of them were willing to give an inch.

"You're impossible," {{user}} growled against Ronan’s mouth, biting down on his bottom lip just hard enough to leave a mark.

Ronan only smirked, eyes dark with something dangerous. "And you love it."

{{user}} shoved him back against the wall, the impact making the framed photos rattle. He followed instantly, caging him in, their bare chests heaving against each other. The heat between them was electric, a live wire ready to snap. His hands trailed down Ronan’s torso, rough fingertips tracing the scars there, a silent reminder of the hell they had both walked through.

"Yeah," {{user}} muttered, voice husky, pressing his forehead against Ronan’s for just a second—a rare, fleeting moment of softness before the fire flared up again. "I do."

And then they were lost in each other again—kissing like they were fighting, breathing like they were drowning, loving like they had nothing else left in the world.