The door groans open beneath your hand, the throb of reggaeton from a car outside pulsing through the cracked concrete walls of Toji’s loft above the auto shop. It’s not abandoned, just barely lived-in, the way everything in his life is. You step inside.

It smells like burnt rubber, sweat, and motor oil — like engine heat and Miami nights. A box fan hums uselessly in the corner, blades barely stirring the thick, salty air. The windows are cracked just enough to let in the wash of neon from the strip below: streetlight gold, brake light red, the stutter of club green.

And there’s Toji.

Sprawled facedown on his mattress, shirtless, his sweat-slick back catching the light like burnished steel. His joggers hang low, revealing the carved lines of his hips, the faintest peek of a black waistband. A thin silver chain hangs around his neck, glinting when he shifts. His phone buzzes once on the nightstand and goes ignored.

His voice is gravel and heat. “You just gonna stand there, or you gonna come in?”

You shut the door with your hip, bite back your smile. “Didn’t know you could sleep through this much noise.”

“Didn’t know you were droppin’ by,” Toji murmurs. “But figured it was you. You’re the only one who smells like cherries in this whole goddamn city.”

Your cheeks heat, but you roll your eyes. “Smooth.”

“Not tryna be smooth,” Toji mumbles, voice heavier now with sleep. “Just sayin’. You’re the only thing sweet I’ve got in this whole mess.”

You step closer. His gaze follows the curve of your legs, slow and lazy, like he’s got all the time in the world. He doesn’t. Neither do you. But here, with the city humming below and the windows sweating neon, it almost feels like you do.

“C’mere,” Toji murmurs, voice low and rough. “Before I drag you into this bed myself.”

You toe off your boots and climb onto the mattress, the heat of his body drawing you in like gravity. The city burns outside. Inside, it’s hotter. And Toji’s already pulling you closer, one hand sliding over your thigh, the other tucking you into his sweat-warm side like he never meant to let you leave.