The steam still clung to the air as Levi’s familiar knock echoed through the bathroom door. “Come in,” I called out over the sound of the running water, “I’m still in the shower.”

The door creaked open, and I heard his footsteps as he entered. The water stopped, and I stepped out, reaching for a towel. Levi was standing just inside the doorway, his gaze sweeping over the familiar space, taking in the half-fogged mirror and the scattered toiletries. Then, his eyes stopped, fixated on the bedside drawer. His attention was completely drawn to the delicate origami lotus I had placed there earlier.

The warmth of the towel against my scalp was a comforting sensation. I began to rub my hair briskly, enjoying the feeling of finally being clean and home. But then, Levi was there, his hands reaching for the towel I held.

"Allow me," he murmured, his voice surprisingly gentle. Before I could protest, he had taken the towel and was carefully patting my wet hair. He worked in methodical sections, absorbing the moisture with a focused intensity that was uniquely Levi.

“Ah… The tour was tiring you know. But the worst part was being away from you.”

Levi continued to gently pat my hair dry, his focus unwavering. My words seemed to register, his movements slowing almost imperceptibly.

"The demands of the tour appeared considerable," he observed, his voice a low rumble. He paused, his fingers briefly lingering on the nape of my neck. "Your absence created a… noticeable void." He finally looked up, his gaze meeting mine in the steamy mirror. "It is preferable when our domicile is… shared."

It was a very Levi way of saying he missed me too.

Ah, yes. The focused intensity of his gaze in the mirror, the lingering touch on my neck… it wasn't just about the optimal functioning of our shared domicile. Two months was an eternity, especially after… well, everything. The broken ribs were a painful reminder of the chaos, but also a marker of the enforced abstinence that had stretched on far too long. The exhaustion of the tour, the emotional weight of the reunion, the unspoken longing – it was all coalescing into this single, undeniable moment. Finally. Yes.

I turned my face to him. “It’s been two months, Levi.” My gaze locked with his in the fogged mirror, the intensity in his eyes mirroring my own.

"Indeed," Levi murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated against my lips as he leaned in. The first touch was tentative, a soft brushing that sent a shiver of anticipation through me. It had been so long, and the gentleness of his initial exploration only heightened the longing that had been building for weeks. Then, the kiss deepened, the initial hesitancy melting away into a slow, deliberate claiming. His lips, surprisingly soft, moved over mine with a growing intensity.

With a swift, effortless movement, Levi scooped me into his arms, carrying me from the steamy bathroom to the waiting expanse of the bed. "It has been two months, Raphael," he murmured, his voice a low growl, a smirk playing on his lips. "But, we still cannot risk a re-injury. Tonight might be a little… gentle."

"I don't care how it is," I breathed out, my hands reaching for his shirt, tugging him closer until he was half-crawling over me.

As his lips continued to trace mine, a familiar shiver ran through me as his cool hands began to explore the contours of my body. And I, in turn, reveled in the feel of his toned back muscles beneath my fingertips. How much had I missed this? The answer was a resounding, aching too much. Breaking away from his lips, I turned my head, pressing a kiss to the warm skin of his neck, inhaling the familiar scent of him.

"Let's be quick, it's been so long, Levi," I breathed against his ear.

"Tch. Two months of waiting, pulla," he murmured back, his voice laced with a familiar hint of playful dominance. "Aren't you even a little curious about the exquisite torment I might inflict, drawing you to the very edge, only to hold you back? And when you finally find release... it will be all the more exquisite, wouldn't you agree?" His cold fingers traced a slow path down my rib cage, sending shivers dancing across my skin.

"I am not playing games tonight, please, Levi," I pleaded, my voice a breathless whisper as his fingers continued their tantalizing exploration.

"Hm..." he murmured, his warm breath ghosting over my earlobe as he gently nibbled. "What, then, must I do about this eager, impatient pulla?"

My hands tightened on his shoulders, the fabric of his shirt bunching in my fists. "Stop teasing, please. Now," I urged, my voice raw with need.

"As you wish, pulla," he murmured, his voice losing its teasing edge, replaced by a deeper resonance. He lifted himself slightly, his gaze never leaving mine as he swiftly removed his pants. The rustle of fabric was the only sound in the charged air before he reached for the bedside drawer. The small bottle of lubricant glinted in the dim light as he carefully coated a finger. Then, with excruciating slowness, he placed it at my entrance.

Ah, fuck. Just one touch. One single, deliberate press, and a wave of heat crashed through me. My breath hitched, my hips instinctively lifting. Two months of abstinence, the raw vulnerability of our reunion, the exquisite torment of his teasing – it had all coiled into this unbearable tension. One touch. That was nearly all it took to bring me teetering to the precipice.

"I need you to breathe for me," Levi murmured, his voice a low command as he gently pressed his middle finger against my slick entrance. It wasn't pain, just the unfamiliar fullness after so long, a slight resistance that quickly yielded to his persistent pressure. He was being careful, mindful of the healing, yet the unfamiliar sensation sent a fresh wave of sensation through me. His other hand moved with a practiced tenderness, stroking the inside of my thighs, occasionally brushing against my own aching cock, teasing, building the pressure. But the focus, the deep, internal ache, was centered on that slow, deliberate intrusion.

After a short while, the persistent pressure and the slickness finally allowed the first knuckle of Levi's finger to slide inside. A sharp, involuntary gasp escaped me. Fuck. Just the first knuckle of his finger, and the sensation was almost overwhelming.

"Please, Levi… Be faster," I urged, my breath coming in ragged gasps.

"I am trying, pulla," he grunted softly, a bead of sweat tracing a path down his temple. "But you are so… tight."

When he finally managed to slide his entire finger inside, a strangled moan tore from my throat. Was I truly so sensitive? Just a single finger, and my mind was already teetering on the edge of shattering. The fullness was intense, stretching me in a way I had forgotten, each small movement sending shock waves of sensation through my core. My hips arched involuntarily, seeking more, the dull ache rapidly intensifying into a sharp, insistent need.

Levi’s breathing grew heavier, mirroring my own ragged gasps. He remained still for a moment, allowing me to adjust to the fullness, his finger flexing slightly inside, each subtle movement sending fresh waves of sensation through me. He began to move, slowly at first, testing the waters. My hands gripped the sheets, my body arching with each inward press. The electric jolts from his other hand intensified, focusing now on the frantic pulse at the base of my cock.

Just as I teetered on the brink, Levi pressed his second finger inside, the added fullness sending a shock wave through my already overloaded senses. It was the final push. The dam I had been desperately trying to hold back finally shattered. A strangled cry tore from my throat as the overwhelming wave of release crashed over me. The sheer volume of it was surprising, a torrent of pure sensation that seemed to erupt from the very core of my being. My body convulsed, my back arching off the bed as the pleasure washed over me in relentless waves. It sprayed across my chest, my torso, even catching on my jaw.

As the tremors subsided and my breathing slowly began to even out, Levi loomed closer, his familiar plotting grin spreading across his face. "Satisfied, pulla?" he murmured, his voice a low purr of triumph. He leaned in further, his tongue tracing a slow, deliberate path across my cheek, cleaning away the evidence of my release. A shiver ran down my spine. Damn this seductive devil. Even in the aftermath, he knew exactly how to keep me ensnared.

"No," I gasped, a fresh wave of heat building within me, "not nearly early enough."

Levi lifted himself slightly. "Is that so?" he murmured, his fingers resuming their tormenting dance around my slick entrance. The renewed sensation sent tendrils of fire licking through my body. "My pulla is still so… exquisitely tight," he praised, his voice a low rumble. His words, laced with possessive adoration, were doing their work.

He finally positioned himself at my opening, but instead of thrusting, he merely pressed the slick tip against me. A shudder ran through my core. "My pulla… I missed you so much," he breathed, his hands now gently caressing my abdomen, his thumbs drawing slow circles on my skin.

Damn this devil. He knew exactly how to ignite every nerve ending, how to coax desire from the ashes of a spent orgasm.

The anticipation stretched, thin and taut, as Levi hovered above me. Just before he began his agonizingly slow descent, he pressed his palm firmly against my stomach. Yes. The double pressure, the feeling of him both inside and out. The slow slide inward began, each millimeter a fresh wave of exquisite torture, the fullness expanding, stretching, filling the void that had ached for two long months. My breath hitched, my hips rising to meet his deliberate pace.

"Do you feel it, my pulla? How tightly you grip me?" Levi breathed, his gaze locked on mine, an intense, possessive stare that sent a shiver dancing across my skin. It wasn't a shiver of fear, but one of pure anticipation.

He lifted his palm from my stomach, the absence of that pressure momentarily disorienting before his hands gripped my legs, pulling them wider, opening me even further to his gaze and his touch. His grip was firm, his thumbs digging slightly into the sensitive flesh of my inner thighs, anchoring me. With that small adjustment, the path was clear, and he was able to slide his thick cock deeper inside, the stretching sensation a welcome relief after the initial tightness. A sigh escaped my lips as I finally felt him fully seated within me, the solid weight and familiar fullness a potent reminder of everything I had been missing.

He began to move within me, each thrust agonizingly slow, allowing my body to stretch and adjust before deepening the intrusion. It was a deliberate torment, a tantalizing dance that brought me to the edge of a gasp, a moan, but deliberately withheld the satisfying friction I craved. "Ah, pulla," he breathed, his voice thick with pleasure, "you take me so well."

He knew exactly what he was doing, his praise a subtle manipulation designed to stoke my desire, to bring me to the point of begging for the release he was so expertly delaying.

My hands gripped the sheets, bunching the fabric as I fought to control my ragged breaths. Just when I thought I couldn't bear the agonizing pace any longer, he would withdraw slightly, only to plunge back in with the same maddening slowness.

"Please, Levi," I finally choked out, the words a desperate plea.

"Patience," he murmured, his voice a low growl against my ear. "Savor the sensation. Feel how tightly you clench around me."

He finally began to deepen his thrusts, each one a slow, deliberate slide that stretched me fully, then retreated just enough to leave me aching for more. The friction was building, a slow, agonizing burn that was driving me closer and closer to the edge. His praises continued, low and possessive, each word a carefully placed spark in the inferno of my desire. He knew exactly how to make me beg. And gods help me, it was working.

Then, a new wave of torment began. His deliberate movements shifted, and he found it – that precise point, that hidden nexus of nerves that sent jolts of pure electricity coursing through my body. The world narrowed to that single, intense sensation, and I knew I was teetering on the precipice once again, the edge rushing closer with each calculated press.

"My pulla," he breathed, his voice a low, possessive murmur against my ear, "see how every inch of you welcomes me?"

Damn him. It was as if he had meticulously studied the map of my body, charting every sensitive point, every hidden trigger. Without resorting to crude words or explicit demands, just these simple, carefully chosen praises, this undeniable connection, and I was his. My muscles clenched around him, a desperate, involuntary response to his touch.

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"Levi…" I gasped, my breath catching in my throat, "I am close…"

His eyes, those intense, knowing eyes, glinted with a renewed intensity. His movements became even more deliberate, each thrust perfectly angled, the pressure precisely calibrated to draw me further and further towards the precipice.

"Feel the rhythm we create," he murmured, as his gaze roamed over my flushed skin, the slick sheen of sweat, the involuntary tremors that wracked my body. "The perfect synchronization."

Damn his poetic mouth. Another shattering orgasm ripped through me, a violent, involuntary spasm that stole my breath and clenched every muscle in my body. His movements within me slowed, each deliberate withdrawal and re-entry a lingering caress as he watched the aftermath unfold. He was drinking in the sight of my gasping breaths, the tremors, the unfiltered sounds of pleasure that escaped my lips.

"Pulla, you are exceedingly fortunate that you are still recovering from your injury. Otherwise," a dangerous glint sparked in his eyes, "I might be inclined to introduce certain… paraphernalia."

Paraphernalia… what even…? Then it hit me. Toys. Oh... Toys. A fresh wave of heat flooded my body, overriding the lingering languor of my release. Toys. The possibilities, the implications… Fuck, yes. The thought alone was enough to make my muscles clench all over again.

Levi let out a low chuckle.

"Eager, pulla?" he murmured. "I could feel you. The subtle clench of your muscles, the way your breath hitched. And I could see the flush creeping up your neck, a tell-tale sign that your mind is racing far faster than your still-recovering body."

He was right, damn him.

"The imagination is a powerful tool, is it not? We can explore its parameters for now."

"What? How?" I asked, my curiosity piqued despite the lingering haze of post-orgasmic contentment.

"We engage the mind, pulla," he explained, his voice a low murmur. "We describe. We anticipate. We build the scenario within the confines of our thoughts." He paused, his fingers tracing slow circles on my abdomen. "Tell me, Raphael. What parameters of this 'paraphernalia' intrigue you most?"

“Oh, you mean talking about it? Right now?”

“Yes. I have rather few ideas about your… enthusiasm regarding the questions.”

"Okay… Well…" I began, a nervous excitement bubbling beneath the surface. "I do enjoy a bit of… sensation. Bruises are perfectly acceptable now, yes. And the bondage we've explored? Quite stimulating. Oh, and the cock ring… that added a rather delightful intensity."

I could practically see the gears whirring behind Levi's intense gaze, his analytical mind processing this new data. A flicker of something unreadable crossed his features.

"Take a deep breath for me, dear," he instructed, his voice suddenly deeper, a subtle shift in command.

Hm? I obeyed, inhaling deeply, but the moment my lungs were full, he thrust into me with a sudden, jarring force, deeper than he had gone all evening. And the slow, torturous pace was gone, replaced by a more urgent, demanding rhythm. My breath hitched. I assumed, with a growing sense of certainty, that my answer, while honest, had perhaps not aligned with his own specific curiosities.

"What? You didn't like my answer or something?" I choked out, the unexpected intensity stealing my breath.

"I did not," Levi stated, his voice low and firm, each thrust now carrying a new weight, a sharper edge. "Because it wasn't entirely honest, pulla." His gaze was intense, unwavering, boring into mine as he continued his deeper, more insistent rhythm. "You spoke of what you tolerate. I asked about what truly intrigues you, what ignites that specific fire within you." He punctuated his words with another deep thrust.

"You can tell?" I whispered, the intensity of his gaze making it difficult to maintain eye contact. The sudden shift in his rhythm left me feeling exposed and strangely… excited.

"Please," Levi murmured, his voice a low growl. "Is this an insult to my observational skills? Because I assure you, I have a rather… unique comeback for such a transgression."

Before I could fully process his words, he leaned in, his teeth clamping down on my shoulder. It wasn't a playful nip; there was a possessive edge to it, a primal claiming that sent a shiver of both sensation and a spike of arousal through me. A sharp intake of breath escaped my lips. Damn him. How did he know?

"Did your frantic, eager brain finally put the pieces together, my pulla?" Levi breathed, his grip on my shoulders tightening slightly. "How I have etched and burned and seared every sensation onto your body?"

Fuck. He had. He had meticulously mapped my responses, turning me into a creature that craved the very edge of sensation, a full-blown masochist. Fuck.

There was a different kind of heat radiating from him now, a palpable intensity in his ragged breathing and the relentless, demanding rhythm of his thrusts. Was it frustration? A possessive anger that I hadn't fully grasped the depths of our shared desires sooner? Whatever it was, it fueled the fire between us. He wanted me, this raw, primal need evident in every forceful movement, every heated breath against my skin. And in that moment, his desire was a potent aphrodisiac, igniting a fierce, answering need within me.

"I kinda realized it, months ago," I choked out, my breath coming in ragged gasps, "but I didn't know... I was this desperate…"

"Ah, my pulla," Levi murmured, his voice laced with a hint of something I couldn't quite decipher – was it disappointment? Triumph? He began to slow his rhythm again, the deliberate pace.

Was this… pettiness? Was he truly being petty? It was often a challenge to fully unravel the intricate workings of his mind. But despite the momentary confusion, the undeniable truth remained: his very presence, the inherent dominance that radiated from him, the ever-shifting currents of our dynamic, always kept me teetering on the razor's edge of lust and a desperate, all-consuming desire. Even this subtle shift in pace, this potential hint of displeasure, only served to heighten the anticipation.

The shift in pace, from urgent need to a deliberate, almost teasing slowness, only amplified the sensations. Each measured thrust stretched me fully, a deep, resonant ache that lingered before he withdrew just enough to leave me wanting more. His hands, which had gripped my hips with fierce intensity, now roamed my body, tracing the sweat-slicked contours of my chest and abdomen.

His praises, though less frequent now, carried a weight of genuine satisfaction, acknowledging my body's responses, the involuntary clenches and gasps that betrayed my building pleasure.

Finally, as the tension coiled tighter and tighter within me, his movements began to deepen and quicken, the deliberate control giving way to a shared urgency. Our breaths mingled, ragged and hot, the sounds of our bodies a primal symphony of desire. The world narrowed to the feel of him inside me, the frantic rhythm of our movements, the electric jolts that shot through my nerves. The release, when it finally came, was a shattering wave that washed over us both, a shared crescendo of pure sensation that left us gasping and clinging to each other in the aftermath.

Then, there was a deeper, more intimate surge, a feeling of fullness expanding within me that was undeniably different.

He came… inside? Levi… actually did that?

"Ah…" Levi murmured, his movements ceasing immediately, a note of what sounded like contrition in his voice. "Accept my apologies, Raphael. I should have asked for your consent. I was… lost in the moment." He withdrew slightly, the sudden absence creating a strange emptiness, both physically and emotionally.

"No, no," I hastened to reassure him, my hands tightening on his shoulders, urging him not to pull away completely. The surprise had been genuine, but it wasn't displeasure. "I was just… surprised, Levi. You know… given everything."

This unexpected act, this surrender to the moment, felt significant.

"I truly apologize for my behavior…" Levi began, his brow still furrowed.

"That's not what I meant, Levi. Calm down," I interrupted gently, my grip on his shoulders softening slightly. "I think… I am glad that you finally felt free enough. And," I added, a small, genuine smile gracing my lips, "it felt fucking great."

The unexpectedness of it was… exhilarating.

Revolution, sugar and protected sex…

The echoes of revolution had faded, the fervor of change settling into a new, perhaps more complex reality. Now, even the carefully navigated terrain of protected sex was shifting, the established boundaries blurring.

Levi was changing.

Wow.

The realization settled over me like a warm wave, washing away the lingering surprise and leaving behind a sense of profound understanding. Levi was changing. This small act, this momentary surrender to instinct, spoke volumes. It hinted at a deeper trust, a willingness to be more present, more vulnerable, more… free.

Shit. Was I actually going to cry because he had cum inside me? Fuck… How ridiculously emotional was I being right now? A lump formed in my throat. I blinked rapidly, trying to dispel the sudden moisture in my eyes. Gods, I was a mess.

"Raphael? I apologize. It was a heat-of-the-moment thing," Levi said, as he observed my sudden emotional shift. He reached out, his hand gently cupping my cheek, his thumb softly stroking my skin.

A shaky laugh escaped my lips, a sound that was half sob, half genuine amusement at my own ridiculousness. "It is embarrassing to say it out loud…" I admitted, my voice thick with unshed tears, "but I think… I am going to cry from happiness. I feel so happy for you, Levi."

It wasn't about me, not entirely.

Leaning closer, his forehead gently touching mine, Levi's intense gaze searched my eyes. "Tell me why, pulla," he murmured, his voice softer than I had ever heard it. "Help me understand this… unexpected joy." There was a genuine curiosity in his tone.

"Ah… Ugh… I am being ridiculous," I mumbled, wiping at the corner of my eye. "Who cries over this? But yeah… I am just so incredibly happy. I mean… nearly everything, your revolution and so many other things… it all happened because of this, didn't it? Because they wanted heirs to their precious legacy. But you… you never did. That was also why you were always so insistent on using condoms. Fuck… It took me how many months to finally understand this? I was so blind. But now… there are no nobles, no legacy to uphold, no pressure to produce heirs… You finally let it go, Levi. You're finally free of that burden. That's why… that's why I felt so overwhelmingly happy."

"Your capacity for empathy… continues to surprise me, Raphael," he murmured, his voice low and sincere.

"Yeah, well, my emotions surprised me too," I admitted, a self-deprecating chuckle escaping my lips. "Who cries over this? Damn… I feel so incredibly embarrassed."

"Let me apologize correctly then," Levi murmured, his voice a low rumble against my forehead as he placed a soft kiss there. Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, he slid out.

Enveloped in his strong arms, I was weightlessly lifted and carried towards the gentle sound of running water. Ah, this man. Even in the aftermath of such raw intimacy, his inherent nature shone through. This responsible, dutiful, devoted man, always taking care, always ensuring my comfort and well-being. The unexpected emotional outpouring hadn't deterred him; instead, it seemed to have solidified his care.

The warm spray enveloped us both as Levi gently adjusted the water temperature, his movements careful and considerate. He used a soft cloth to cleanse my skin, his touch lingering, almost reverent. He paid particular attention to the marks his hands had left, the slight bruising on my thighs, the faint mark on my shoulder, as if tracing the map of our encounter. It felt like a continuation.

I nestled my head against his shoulder. "Now," I murmured, a hint of playful demand in my voice, "I want a second round."

Levi's movements stilled for a moment. "Absolutely not," he stated, his tone firm, though not unkind. "Especially not in a place where you can easily lose your footing. I do not want another two months of being devoid of you, Raphael, due to a preventable accident in the shower."

"Yeah," I agreed with a sigh, the memory of those long, touch-starved weeks still vivid. "Celibacy wasn't fun, at all."

Levi placed a soft kiss on my hair, the warmth of his lips a comforting sensation. "Your eagerness is noted. It is a reciprocal notion."

"Just say feelings are mutual," I mumbled, a small, contented smile playing on my lips.

"I… it is pleasing that our desires align," Levi responded, his tone earnest, though still retaining a hint of his characteristic formality.

"Ugh…" I groaned softly, the contentment momentarily overshadowed by a familiar observation. "That just reminded me how you still don't cuss."

It was a minor thing, a quirk of his personality that had become a running commentary in my mind. In moments of intense passion or frustration, where a well-placed curse word felt almost essential, Levi remained steadfastly… articulate.

"I can not imagine myself using colorful language. It is a habit ingrained over a lifetime," Levi replied, a hint of a sigh in his voice.

"I heard you say 'damn' once," I countered, a small, mischievous smile tugging at the corner of my lips.

"Indeed," Levi conceded, a faint hint of a smile mirroring my own. "I must have been particularly close to the precipice of my composure that day. An unusual deviation, I assure you."

Yeah. The cemetery incident. Oops. Definitely best to let that particular memory lie undisturbed.

Emerging from the shower, the steam still clinging to our skin, a comfortable silence settled between us. We began to speak of the times we had been apart, the long voyages that had taken us to different corners of the world. Levi recounted tales of his chemistry expeditions, his voice softening with a hint of sheepishness as he apologized once more for the "mad scientist situation” assuring me, with characteristic thoroughness, that any lingering effects had been meticulously neutralized. I, in turn, shared anecdotes from my recent award tour, the whirlwind of ceremonies and unfamiliar faces. As the exhaustion of the intense evening finally began to weigh on us, we moved towards the bed. It was only the second or perhaps the third time we had shared this intimate space for sleep, a quiet milestone in our evolving relationship.