Chapter 7 The Stalled Elevator

This hunk of junk creaked once, and then the world instantly went dead. In that split second, gravity seemed to vanish, leaving my stomach stranded back on the tenth floor. The deafening screech of metal slamming against the emergency brakes echoed through the cramped shaft, before finally being swallowed by a silence that was far more terrifying.

"Shit! What the hell was that?!" Bima shrieked, his voice cracking in the pitch-black void.

I couldn't see a thing. Absolute, suffocating darkness. The only sound cutting through the void was the frantic rush of Bima's breathing, turning short and shallow. I knew he loathed dark, claustrophobic spaces. I knew exactly how his lungs tended to constrict the moment he felt trapped.

"Arka? Arka? Where are you? Don't mess around, damn it! Turn on your phone light!" Bima yelled, his hands wildly clawing at the empty air.

I took a deep breath, forcing my own adrenaline-spiked heart to steady. "I'm right here, Bim. Stay still. Don't move around, or the car will shake."

My voice was a low baritone, anchoring him in the middle of his mounting panic. I took one small step forward, and my hand immediately found his shoulder. The moment my skin brushed the thin fabric of his t-shirt, Bima lunged, clamping onto my arm like a drowning man seizing a lifebuoy.

His grip was fierce, his nails digging painfully into my forearm, but I barely registered it.

"Arka, this elevator isn't going to plunge, right? I am not dying a pathetic death in my own dorm building, Arka. I haven't even graduated yet, damn it!" Bima rambled, his entire frame shuddering violently against me.

I shifted my stance, closing the distance until Bima's back hit the cold, stainless steel wall of the lift. I pinned him, slamming both hands against the metal on either side of his head. It was the exact position I usually used to intimidate him, but this time, my purpose was different. I wanted him to feel that there was something much larger, hotter, and stronger than his fear standing right in front of him.

"Take a breath, Bim. Focus on me," I commanded, my voice vibrating in the scarce space between us.

"It's too dark, Arka ... I can't breathe ...."

"I've got you. Just focus on my voice."

I could feel Bima's hot, uneven breaths striking my collarbone. In the total blackout, my senses sharpened tenfold. The scent of Bima's fresh citrus cologne, mingled with the faint, raw musk of sweat from our recent gym session, created a intoxicating cocktail. The air was thinning, the temperature rising, but the heat radiating from Bima's body was far more overwhelming than the stagnant air of the elevator.

Bima's hand, which had been clutching my arm, slowly crawled upward. His trembling fingers traced my chest, seeking my heartbeat. The moment his palm pressed flat against it, he froze. He could feel my heart thumping wildly against my ribs—just as chaotic as his own.

"Arka... your heart ... why is it beating this fast?" Bima whispered. The panic had bled out of his voice, replaced by a husky, breathless curiosity.

"Why do you think, huh?" I murmured, tilting my face down, tracking his warmth in the dark.

The tips of our noses brushed—the only physical coordinate we had left. The heat radiating from Bima's lips made my nerves scream. Every ounce of built-up tension from the past weeks—the downpour at the bus stop, the suffocating proximity in the tent, and the illicit encounter in the library—seemed to ignite at this single point. This stalled elevator was no longer a cage; it was a sanctuary. A lawless void where the outside world couldn't judge, couldn't spy, and couldn't intervene.

"Arka ...." Bima breathed my name, but this time, it wasn't a cry for help. It was an invitation. A silent, dangerous dare cloaked in a ragged sigh.

I didn't need light to know that Bima’s eyes were locked onto mine, heavy-lidded and burning with a calculated heat. *Let him think he's consuming me,* I thought, entirely consumed by my own dark obsession. I freed one hand from the steel wall, cupping the nape of his neck, and pulled him in. Bima’s arms reflexively wound around my neck, dragging me down deeper.

And then, we collided.

It wasn't just a kiss; it was a total wreck of our defenses. The clash was savage, fueled by a primitive hunger we had kept locked behind the sterile label of 'friends' for far too long. Our tongues tangled fiercely in the dark. I tasted the salt of sweat on his skin and a desperate thirst that refused to be quenched. Bima let out a low, muffled groan that was swallowed instantly by my mouth, sending my adrenaline into overdrive.

I drove him harder against the wall, the dull thud of his back against the metal beating in time with our frantic rhythm. In one seamless motion, I hooked my hands beneath his thighs and hoisted him up, his legs instinctively locking around my waist. Now, Bima was entirely at my mercy, suspended in my grip. I drank from his mouth as if the world outside had run out of oxygen and he was my only lifeline.

My palms slid beneath his shirt, mapping the smooth, burning skin of his back, slick with sweat. The friction of our skin in the absolute blackness felt like a live wire, keeping us ablaze. Bima tugged sharply at the hair at the back of my head, forcing the kiss deeper, exposing his throat to the marks I knew would give Radit a field day tomorrow morning.

"Arka ... mmm ... you're a bastard ...." Bima gasped in the fraction of an inch between our lips.

"And you’re mine, Bim. Only mine," I growled against his swollen lips.

We devoured each other in a loud, frantic silence—nothing but the sound of wet friction, heavy breathing, and the desperate rustle of clothes. Inside this dead lift, time ceased to exist. I didn't care if the cables snapped right now. I didn't care if the entire campus found out tomorrow. All I knew was that in this darkness, Bima was my absolute center of gravity.

I dragged my mouth down, devouring his jawline, moving toward his neck and shoulders. I nipped sharply at his collarbone, causing Bima to arch his back, his fingernails digging so deep into my shoulders they left permanent crescent marks. Pure, unadulterated passion shattered the last of my logic. This was no longer about keeping him safe from the world; this was about primitive, absolute possession.

Suddenly, the emergency light in the corner of the ceiling flickered to life, casting a dim, murky amber glow over us. But it was enough. It was enough for me to see Bima’s wrecked, beautiful state—his lips flushed and slick, his eyes shimmering with unholy lust, and his hair completely disheveled. He looked entirely undone, and I was the one who had shattered him.

Bima stared up at me, his chest heaving. Slowly, that familiar, mischievous smirk played at the corner of his lips—the one he used to tease the rest of the world. But this time, that look belonged exclusively to me.

"Turns out ... getting stuck in a lift isn't so bad after all, is it, Arka?" he whispered, his thumb lightly grazing my lower lip.

I was just about to pull him back down to claim him a second time when—

CLACK!

The power surged back with a vengeance. The blinding white fluorescence of the main lights flooded the car, forcing us both to wince and shield our eyes. The elevator jolted violently once more and began to ascend smoothly, as if the primal storm that had just transpired inside its walls had never happened.

Bima scrambled down from my waist instantly, frantically tugging at his twisted shirt, his face flushed a violent shade of crimson. I cleared my throat, trying to steady my raspy, deepened voice while adjusting the strap of my backpack.

Ting!

The doors slid open on the twelfth floor. Standing right there in the hallway was Radit, sporting a messy bedhead and holding a box of martabak. He blinked, looking us both up and down with narrowed, hyper-suspicious eyes.

"What took you guys so long? The power flickered for a second, did the lift actually stall?" Radit asked, his gaze immediately locking onto Bima’s collar, which failed to hide his neck. "And what the hell... Bim, why is your neck red *again*? I swear that wasn't there when we left the court. Are the mosquitoes in this building the size of wasps or what?"

Bima let out a strained, breathless laugh, instantly throwing on his usual cheerful, carefree mask. "Yeah, Radit! Man, the mosquitoes in the dark were brutal. I could barely breathe in there!"

I didn't say a single word. I walked straight past Radit, but as my shoulder brushed his, I threw him a dark, warning glare that effectively sealed his mouth shut. I cast a sideways glance at Bima for a split second—a silent vow that this was nowhere near over.

Bima kept his eyes glued to the floor, but I caught the secret, sharp smile hidden behind the hand covering his bruised neck. In that brightly lit apartment corridor, we walked back toward our units, but the air between us had shifted irrevocably. The stalled elevator might have started moving again, but our hearts were trapped at the exact same coordinates. And this time, I didn't have the slightest intention of letting him go.