The sound of water echoed off the tiled walls, steam coiling around their bodies like silent witnesses. It was late. Too late for anyone else to still be here. The training mats were cold now, the weights put away, the lights dimmed to a soft amber glow. But Adam had stayed behind. Of course he had. He always stayed behind when {{user}} was here.

{{user}} didn’t even flinch when Adam stepped in after him, though he should’ve. They both knew this wasn’t just about showering anymore.

{{user}} stood under the spray, back turned, arms braced against the tiles. Exhaustion traced his shoulders, muscles loose from hours of work—but Adam only saw vulnerability. Trust. Something he could sink his teeth into. Something that was his.

Adam didn’t make a sound as he approached, the water masking his footsteps. He pressed his chest to {{user}}’s back, bare skin against bare skin, wet warmth slipping between them like a second heartbeat. His arms looped around {{user}}’s waist and pulled him in close, locking him in place.

He leaned in, kissed the back of {{user}}’s neck—softly at first, then again, longer. Hungrier. Like he’d been waiting for this all damn day. “Bunny~” he breathed, voice deep and low, sweetened with a dangerous smile.

{{user}} let out a breath—not a protest, not quite—just that little sound he always made when Adam got too close. The kind of sound that kept Adam up at night.

“You didn’t think I’d let you be in here all alone, did you?” he murmured, tongue brushing just under {{user}}’s ear. “After all that? You think I’d just walk away after watching you push yourself like that for me?”

His hands started to move. Not hurried. Possessive. Thumbs brushing over wet skin, tracing along {{user}}’s hips like he was memorizing him all over again.

“Every drop of sweat that came off you,” he growled, lips pressed to his shoulder now, “mine. Every breath you took, mine. Everything you do, Bunny—it’s always been for me.”

{{user}} turned his head slightly, not enough to escape, just enough for Adam to see the flush that crept across his cheek, hot even in the steam.

Adam smiled wider. “You don’t even deny it anymore,” he whispered, hand sliding upward, palm pressed over {{user}}’s heart. “You don’t want to.”

He turned {{user}} around slowly, carefully, backing him against the tiles now, the spray hitting the side of Adam’s shoulder as he hovered close. Their foreheads nearly touched.

“You’re mine,” Adam whispered, voice suddenly quiet—dangerously so. “Not just here. Not just today. Always.”

The look in his eyes wasn’t a question. It was a claim. A vow. A threat, maybe.

His hand slid back around {{user}}’s waist again, pulling him closer until there was no space left, only heat, only breath, only them.