𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐝

The house was quiet when the last of the guests left, but Nani stayed. He had no intention of going home. His parents thought he was asleep in one of the guest rooms; in reality, he was sprawled across Sky’s bed, freshly showered, damp hair dripping against Sky’s pillow.

He had picked one of Sky’s crisp white shirts from the wardrobe—oversized on him, the sleeves swallowing his hands, the hem skimming barely mid-thigh. No pants, no shorts. Just Sky’s scent wrapped around him.

He lay on his back at first, staring at the ceiling, leg swinging restlessly. The clock ticked past midnight, and still no Sky. Nani rolled over, burying his face in Sky’s pillow, inhaling deeply like it was oxygen. His chest hurt from everything that had happened earlier—the fight, the blood, the choking grip on his throat. And yet here he was. Waiting.

His fingers played with the cuff of the shirt as his thoughts grew louder.

𝘏𝘦’𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦. 𝘏𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘰. 𝘚𝘬𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥. 𝘏𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯’t 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨. 𝘏𝘦’𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴, 𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘵, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦’𝘭𝘭 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘐’𝘮 𝘩𝘪𝘴. 𝘕𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦’𝘴. 𝘖𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘪𝘴.

Nani smirked to himself, even as his heart pounded. It wasn’t defeat, not in his mind. This was his victory. Because no matter how hard Sky tried to punish him, no matter how sharp his words, they always ended up here—in each other’s gravity.

The door finally clicked open. Nani didn’t move, just propped himself up on his elbows, hair messy, collar of the shirt slipping low enough to expose one shoulder. His voice was a soft purr when he spoke:

“Took you long enough, Phi Sky.”

Sky paused at the doorway when his eyes landed on the sight before him—Nani sprawled across his bed, drowning in his shirt, bare legs on display. For a moment, silence stretched, broken only by the faint drip of water from Nani’s damp hair.

A smirk tugged at Sky’s mouth.

“You look ridiculous,” he mocked, his tone cool and cutting. “Like a spoiled brat who doesn’t know when to quit.”

Nani tilted his head, lips curving in that dangerous little smile. “And yet you’re staring. Can’t take your eyes off me, Phi.”

Sky’s jaw flexed, the control he prided himself on beginning to fray. He stepped closer, slow and deliberate, like a predator cornering prey. His hand came up suddenly, gripping Nani’s jaw, fingers digging into his cheeks as he forced his face up.

“You’re trouble, Nani,” he whispered darkly, his breath brushing over Nani’s lips.

Before Nani could reply, Sky’s mouth crashed down onto his—hard, bruising, claiming. It wasn’t a kiss meant for softness; it was punishment, possession, hunger rolled into one. Nani gasped, and Sky used it, tongue sweeping in to taste, to dominate.

His other hand slid beneath the hem of the shirt, roaming over smooth skin, nails scraping lightly across Nani’s hip before gripping the flesh rough enough to make him jolt.

The oversized fabric was no barrier; in fact, it only fueled Sky’s unraveling. Nani had worn it on purpose—his shirt, his scent—and Sky’s control snapped like glass under pressure.

“Desperate little thing,” Sky growled against his lips, his hand now sliding up under the shirt, palm dragging across Nani’s ribs, chest, stomach. “You think dressing yourself in my clothes makes you mine again?”

Nani’s smirk faltered into a shaky breath as Sky pushed him back against the mattress, pinning him there, mouth devouring his throat in open-mouthed, biting kisses.

Sky’s mouth moved against his with a possession that left no room for argument — kisses sharp enough to bruise, slow enough to consume. Nani answered with the same ferocity, nails digging into Sky’s shoulders as if to anchor himself to the only person who could both hurt and heal him.

The shirt rode up, the bare skin beneath warmed by Sky’s hands, heat and breath mingling until the world outside the room blurred into nothing but the two of them.Sky shifted, one hand sliding down to trap Nani’s hip while the other cradled the back of his head. The kisses softened, became lower, intimate, like a man reminding another that everything they’d said in anger never erased the claim they’d already made.

Nani’s laugh was half a sob, half a plea — desperate, relieved. He threaded his fingers through Sky’s hair and pulled him closer as if he could mend the week apart with the press of a mouth.

Sky broke the kiss long enough to press his forehead to Nani’s, breaths mingling. For a beat there was a tenderness so quiet it felt like a secret. Then his voice dropped, velvet and edged with iron. “Listen to me,” he warned, eyes pinning Nani with that grave, dangerous calm. “This time I let you off. Because I’m indulgent, and because you wear my things and make me soft and ridiculous, and I love you for it.”

Nani smiled, breathless, a foolish, hot grin that said he knew he’d won again even as Sky lectured him. “I know,” he murmured, fingers tracing idle patterns on Sky’s wrist. “I’m sorry.”

Sky’s hand tightened around his hip, thumb stroking, a motion both possessive and soothing. He leaned in, lips ghosting over Nani’s ear. “But next time,” he whispered, voice low enough that it was only for Nani, “if you talk about breaking up, or say anything that reckless and childish — I won’t be indulgent.”

The words were a promise and a threat folded together.Nani’s pulse leapt, the mixture of fear and heat spinning something bright in his chest. He wanted to scoff, to argue, to play the spoiled role until the end of time — but Sky’s hand cupped his face, thumb wiping at the corner of his mouth like it was the most precious thing in the world. “I’ll tie you up in my room,” Sky went on, softer now, the barest hint of a smile touching his lips, “and I won’t let you go until you remember where you belong.”

It wasn’t a crude boast; it was an ownership wrapped in tenderness, a plan that was terrifying and oddly comforting. Nani’s breath hitched, and he leaned into the touch, the idea of being bound to Sky until he learned his place oddly appealing. “Then do it,” he whispered back, voice small and thrilled. “Make me remember.”

Sky’s laugh was a low rumble. He captured Nani’s mouth one last time, long and deep, then rolled so he was over him, arms anchoring Nani to the bed. The room held them close — two halves of the same dangerous whole — and for now, the only law that mattered was the one Sky spoke softly into Nani’s hair: possessive, absolute, and oddly tender.

𝙋𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙩

Nani’s lips curled as he watched Prim hurry away, clutching the file as if it was her lifeline. That tiny scar on her forehead still lingered, a faint reminder of the night Nani first taught her where her place was.

She feared him — and she should.

Because if Prim ever forgot again, Nani wouldn’t hesitate to remind her.

And that was why, even years later, just a poke on that scar was enough to make her blood run cold.

Nani smoothed his blazer, his expression calm and unreadable, as if nothing had happened. Outside, the house was alive with the hum of engagement preparations, laughter spilling from every corner. But Prim’s footsteps down the hall were shaky, uneven, almost like echoes of the past.

For her, the scar wasn’t just on her forehead. It was in her memory.

A memory named Nani.