The kiss dulled everything—the pain in his ankle, the fear twisting in his chest. His body remembered before his mind could protest, and when Rian pressed forward, Kaiseng yielded without meaning to. The thin hospital mattress dipped under their weight as Rian’s body pinned him, straddling him.

Rian looked down between them, lips parted, lashes low as if watching something profane. His cock lay heavy against Kaiseng’s, the shaft streaked with precum that smeared across the thin cotton of Kaiseng’s scrubs. His fingers wrapped around Kaiseng’s length without hesitation, slow and deliberate, dragging his palm along the girth like he was relearning it.

Then Rian leaned over, mouth slack as he let a trail of spit fall—unhurried, stringing down until it landed wet against the head of Kaiseng’s cock. It ran down the side in slow motion, and his hand followed, slicking him. The pressure of Rian’s grip sent a pulse straight through Kaiseng’s spine.

There was no pretense of romance here. Only hunger. Memory. The burn of every bad decision they’d ever made together.

Kaiseng watched, breath shallow, as Rian shifted up—knees braced on either side of him, thighs flexing with control. He reached back, guiding Kaiseng’s cock to press against himself. For a moment, there was resistance, a tight barrier that made Kaiseng’s jaw clench.

His breath hitched as Rian's weight bore down, the tight ring of muscle yielding just enough to let the head of his cock pop past the barrier. But Rian didn’t flinch. He bore down slowly, jaw tight, breath sharp. The tension in his thighs told Kaiseng he felt every inch of it—the stretch, the intrusion—but he didn’t stop. He never did. He took pain the same way he took pleasure: like a dare.

A sharp sting of pleasure-pain shot through Kai, his injured ankle throbbing faintly under the strain of holding still on the narrow hospital bed. He gripped the sheets with one hand, the other reaching up to clutch Rian's thigh, fingers digging into the firm flesh as if to anchor himself.

Rian exhaled shakily, then sank lower, inch by inch, enveloping Kaiseng's shaft in scorching heat. The walls of Rian's ass clenched around him, rippling with every descent, pulling Kaiseng deeper until their hips met flush, Rian's balls resting heavy against Kaiseng's body. “Fuck, Kai,” Rian groaned, his voice rough and broken, hands bracing on Kaiseng's chest for leverage. He rolled his hips experimentally, grinding down to feel the full stretch, his own cock twitching against Kaiseng's stomach, leaving a slick trail of precum on the fabric of his scrubs.

Kaiseng bit his lip to stifle another moan, the overwhelming tightness making his vision blur at the edges. His ankle protested the subtle shift in position, a dull ache radiating up his leg, but the fire building in his groin drowned it out. He thrust up instinctively, shallow and careful, burying himself even deeper into that vise-like grip. Rian's body shuddered above him, a low whimper escaping as he adjusted, then began to lift himself up, only to drop back down with more force.

The bed creaked under them, the metal frame rattling softly against the hospital's sterile quiet. Kaiseng's mind raced but the raw need overrode it all. He slid his hand up Rian's back, tangling fingers in his hair to pull him down for a bruising kiss, tongues clashing as Rian rode him harder, the slap of skin on skin echoing in the dim room.

It wasn’t just sex. Not with them. It was punishment. Nostalgia. Worship and ruin wrapped into one. And Kaiseng let it happen. Because part of him still wanted to be ruined by Rian. Even now.

Rian’s pace quickened, his hips slamming down with reckless abandon, the friction building to an unbearable peak inside Kaiseng. But something shifted—barely there at first. A sudden, slick warmth easing around Kai’s cock, making every thrust slide deeper, smoother, hotter. The nurse's cock throbbed deep within that soft unrelenting heat, every ridge and vein stimulated by the vise-like contractions rippling along its length. Kaiseng's injured ankle twinged with each jolt of the bed, but he ignored it, lost in the savage rhythm.

A sudden tremor ran through Rian's body, his ass clenching hard around Kaiseng's shaft like a fist tightening in ecstasy. His breaths came in ragged gasps, muscles locking as waves of release crashed over him. Hot spurts of cum erupted from Rian's cock, splattering across Kaiseng's scrubs in thick, sticky ropes—warmth blooming against the fabric, soaking through to Kaiseng's skin beneath. The wetness spread with each grind, a slick mess marking the evidence of Rian's climax, while his hole spasmed erratically, milking Kaiseng's length with desperate pulses that nearly pushed the him over the edge.

Kaiseng captured Rian's lips in a fierce kiss, swallowing the broken moans as the clenching hold intensified, Rian's body shuddering violently atop him. Under his breath, against those parted lips, Kaiseng murmured, “Always finishing first.”

Rian pulled back just enough to trail his lips along Kaiseng's jaw, nipping at the skin with sharp teeth that sent sparks racing down Kai’s spine. Kaiseng's hands slid down to grip Rian's ass, fingers digging into the firm cheeks with an aggressive squeeze, spreading them wider to expose more of that stretched hole gripping his cock. The hold tightened further in response, another wave of spasms drawing a guttural moan from Kaiseng as Rian's teeth grazed his neck, biting down just hard enough to leave a mark.

A smack came next—Kaiseng's palm cracking against one cheek with a sharp sting, the flesh jiggling under the impact. Rian groaned, his body arching, but he only rode harder, chasing the aftershocks of his orgasm and bringing Kai closer to his own.

Kaiseng's arousal surged, his cock pulsing within Rian's tight grip, yet he lingered in the tremors, relishing how Rian's frame quivered above him.

He couldn't hold back any longer. Kaiseng's hands clamped harder on Rian's ass, pulling him down forcefully as he thrust up, grinding their bodies together with raw need. Rian's hole clenched around him, slick and sensitive, drawing a gasp from the man perched atop him. Kaiseng drove deeper, hips bucking in sharp, insistent motions, using Rian's weight to amplify each plunge until the pressure coiled unbearably heavy in his testicle.

With a guttural groan muffled against Rian's hair, Kaiseng came, his cock erupting in hot spurts deep inside Rian. He flooded him, pulse after pulse, filling that clenching passage until it overflowed, warm seed trickling down to coat Kaiseng's balls. Rian's body reacted instantly—his back arched, a sharp inhale escaping as the sudden heat triggered fresh shudders through his limbs. He pressed closer, thighs squeezing Kaiseng's sides, his own cock softening but twitching against Kaiseng's abdomen in echoed aftershocks, as if the sensation reignited a faint spark.

Rian’s head remained nestled in the crook of Kaiseng’s neck, one of Kaiseng’s hands gliding up his spine to rest between his shoulder blades, their ragged breaths echoing through the dim room. His cock stayed buried inside Rian, softening slowly in the warm, slick aftermath.

For a fleeting moment, they felt almost ordinary—like lovers tangled in the quiet afterglow, not exes caught in this reckless storm.

But that pretense shattered quickly. It always did with them.

When Rian finally raised his head, that predatory gleam burned in his eyes again, teetering on the razor’s edge of fierce loyalty and unyielding fixation. Triumph. His hand rose, thumb brushing Kaiseng’s jawline, dragging through the damp sweat as if it were a cherished mark.

His lips parted, voice rough and hushed. “You hate me?” Rian whispered. The question hung heavy, not mocking, but raw—perilous in its vulnerability.

Kaiseng’s throat tightened, words failing him. Part of him ached to spit out a yes, to push Rian away and rebuild the distance that was closed in a frenzy of need. But the lie choked in his chest, smothered by the unspoken reality he refused to face.

He stayed silent.

Rian’s lips twisted into something that wasn’t quite a smile, sharp enough to sting. He dipped forward, sealing a deliberate kiss to Kaiseng’s cheek, holding it there as if etching the heat into his memory one last time.

Kaiseng felt himself going limp inside Rian, the haze of pleasure fading. Then the throb in his ankle sharpened, a brutal jolt yanking him back to the harsh truth of his injury, the hospital bed, this unwanted chaos.

His fingers moved stealthily, inching toward the call light dangling from the wall beside the bedhead. He pressed it with a quiet click. A gentle chime rang out, slicing the intimacy.

Rian straightened atop him, eyes widening in a mix of shock and wry humor, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek. “Fine, if you’re gonna kill the vibe like that, we’ll have it your way,” he said, voice laced with mock resignation.

Rian slid off Kaiseng, disengaging with a wet slide that left a trail of their mingled release on Kaiseng’s crotch. He snatched up his clothes in swift motions, yanking on his dark jeans and tugging the sweatshirt on. The mask slipped back into place over his features, before he tucked the gun into the waistband at his lower back.

The wound Kai had packed and wrapped was already bleeding through, the white gauze blooming dark beneath Rian’s sweatshirt. He barely caught the flash of red before the zipper sealed it from view.

Guilt pricked somewhere deep in his chest. His lips parted—he didn’t even know what he meant to say. He shouldn’t have felt the urge to apologize, not after everything, but the words hovered anyway. “Rian,” he sighed, eyes closing for a moment as he dragged a hand through his hair. When he looked up again, Rian was already in front of him.

Before he could move, the world tilted. His stomach lurched as he was hauled up, slung over Rian’s shoulder like he weighed nothing.

“Rian—wait, what are you doing?”

The chair blocking the door scraped and crashed aside. The metal handle rattled in Rian’s grip.

“No more hiding, Kaiseng,” he said, his voice low but steady. “Time to be us again.”

“There is no us!” 

“There will always be an us,” he said quietly, “as long as I’m still breathing. This is us.”