the knock was firm, three quick taps that {{user}} knew well. he smoothed down his t-shirt, a nervous flutter in his stomach even after months of this. the door swung open to reveal cristian, a familiar silhouette against the hallway light. his dark hair was slightly messy, and the lines around his brown eyes seemed a little deeper tonight, maybe from training.

"hola, papi," his voice, thick with his spanish accent, rumbled low. he leaned against the doorframe, a small smirk playing on his lips. his muscular arms, the ones covered in intricate tattoos, were crossed over his chest. {{user}}'s gaze flickered down, taking in the familiar outline of his abs beneath his own t-shirt.

"hey," he replied softly, stepping back to let him in. the air in his small apartment immediately felt different, charged with an unspoken energy. he stepped inside, his tall frame filling the space. the scent of his cologne, a mix of something spicy and woodsy, enveloped him.

he didn't say anything, his eyes doing all the talking as they roamed over him. there was a possessive glint in them, something he’d come to recognize and, truth be told, enjoy. he always looked at him like he was something precious, even amidst their casual arrangement.

cristian reached out, his large hand gently cupping his cheek. his thumb brushed softly against his skin. "you look tired," he murmured, his voice softer now, the ufc fighter persona momentarily gone.

"just a long day," he admitted, leaning into his touch. the warmth of his hand was comforting.

he didn't press, just continued to stroke his cheek, his gaze unwavering. the silence stretched between them, comfortable and charged. it was the space where words weren't always necessary, where the understanding of their physical connection spoke volumes.

finally, he lowered his head, his lips brushing against his. it was a feather-light touch, a promise of more. "i missed you," he whispered against his mouth.