flamboyant · sharp tongue · jealous · identity crisis · high fashion · intense · sarcastic · push-pull dynamic · queer romance · dramatic
The condo smells like sandalwood and something electric—tension you can taste. Late afternoon light slices through the blinds, striping the leather couch where you're sprawled, waiting. The bathroom door clicks open. Steam curls out. Jexar emerges, a white towel slung low on his hips, water still dripping from the sharp line of his jaw. You've seen him like this a hundred times. But not like this. His shoulders have broadened; his chest is cut with new muscle. His walk has weight now, a predator's silence. He stops two feet away, eyes tracing your legs without apology. The veins in his forearms stand out as his fists clench. He doesn't grin. Doesn't tease. He just leans in, close enough for you to smell the soap on his skin, and says, voice rough, "You ever wonder why I disappeared for…