Made love with each other

The wine glasses sat forgotten on the table, the movie’s ending credits rolling quietly in the background like a soft lullaby. But the silence in the room was charged—thick with emotion, tension, and the gentle hum of something neither of them wanted to name.

June sat beside Xander, her fingers brushing against his on the couch. She hadn’t said much for the past few minutes, not because she didn’t have words, but because none of them felt right. The beating of her heart, however that was loud. Thunderous. And every time he looked at her, she felt seen in a way she hadn’t in years.

Loved. Wanted. Safe.

She turned to face him, her breath caught slightly when she noticed how intently he was watching her. His eyes trailed over her face with a reverence that made her heart squeeze.

Xander leaned in slightly, then paused.

“I don’t want to assume anything,” he whispered, voice low and deliberate. “If this is too fast, or if you’re not ready just say it. I can wait, June.”

June searched his face. There was no pressure in his tone, no game. Just quiet vulnerability. And it melted the last bit of wall she had up around her.

She didn’t reply with words.

Instead, she leaned forward, gently pressing her lips to his.

At first it was slow—uncertain. But when he responded, his hand lifting to cradle the side of her face, something shifted. Their kisses deepened, driven by a hunger neither of them had realized they’d been holding back for so long. She slipped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, while his fingers traced the curve of her waist with trembling care.

It wasn’t just passion. It was a release.

A release of years of pain, of loneliness, of pretending to be okay.

Piece by piece, they undressed—not rushed, but deliberate. Every touch was an exploration. Every exposed inch of skin a confession. There was no shame, no fear—only the warmth of two people finally letting themselves be vulnerable.

Xander paused again, his forehead resting against hers. “Are you sure?” he asked, voice hoarse.

June looked at him, her hands resting on his chest. “Yes,” she whispered. “I want this… with you.”

That was all he needed.

As they moved together, time seemed to slow. Their breaths filled the room, mingling with whispered names and soft sighs. The world outside faded, and for that moment, it was just the two of them. No lies. No schemes. No past. Just connection.

Afterward, they lay tangled beneath the sheets, the moonlight casting silver patterns across their skin. Xander had one arm beneath June’s head, the other around her waist, holding her as if afraid she might vanish if he let go.

June rested her head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “I don’t know what this means,” she said quietly. “But for the first time in a long while… I feel seen.”

Xander kissed her forehead gently, feeling something he hadn’t planned for rise in his chest—guilt. And something worse… affection. Real affection.

He hadn’t expected this.

Hadn’t expected to feel anything real.

But as he looked down at June sleeping softly in his arms, her guard finally down, a single painful truth wrapped around his heart:

He wasn’t sure he could go through with the plan anymore.

Because this wasn’t just about business.

This was becoming personal.

Dangerously personal.

The soft hum of music played through the Bluetooth speaker in the corner of the kitchen. Sunshine streamed in through the large windows, bathing the room in a warm, golden glow. June moved barefoot across the tiled floor, her hips swaying rhythmically as she danced to the beat. One of Xander’s oversized shirts hung from her shoulders, the hem falling just below her thighs. Her hair was messy from the night before, her skin dappled with soft bruises of affection—visible reminders of the passion they had shared.

She flipped the pancakes with a grin on her face, humming to the tune, when two strong arms wrapped gently around her waist from behind.

“Good morning, Chef,” Xander murmured against her neck.

June giggled, leaning into his embrace. “You scared me.”

“I was trying to be romantic,” he teased, his breath warm on her skin. “But I’ll settle for ‘scary’ if that’s all I can get.”

She turned to face him, a sleepy but content look in her eyes. “I’m making breakfast. You hungry?”

Xander’s eyes dipped to the way the shirt clung to her frame. “Starving,” he said, his voice low.

June raised an eyebrow. “For pancakes or something else?”

“Oh, the pancakes smell great,” he said, pulling her a little closer, his fingers grazing her lower back. “But you—looking like that in my shirt, with your hair like that and hickeys I gave you last night? That’s breakfast, lunch, and dinner all in one.”

June blushed and laughed, swatting his shoulder gently. “Xander, stop.”

But he didn’t. He leaned down, brushing his lips over hers in a slow, lingering kiss that said everything words couldn’t. She melted into him, her hands resting on his chest.

“Don’t do that,” she whispered against his mouth.

“Do what?”

“Make me feel like I matter.”

Xander pulled back, his face suddenly serious. He cupped her face in his hands, lifting her chin so their eyes met. “That’s not something I have to make you feel, June. You do matter. To me.”

Her heart skipped at the sincerity in his voice. For a second, the shadows of her past with Larry tried to creep in—but they were no match for the warmth in Xander’s eyes.

He kissed her again—softer this time. Tender. Thoughtful.

“Breakfast,” June whispered again, breathless.

“Breakfast can wait,” he murmured, lifting her effortlessly onto the kitchen counter.

She gasped, laughing. “You’re impossible.”

“Only for you,” he said, wrapping his arms around her as their laughter filled the kitchen.

They kissed again, more intensely now, losing themselves in the moment. June’s hands found their way into his hair, pulling him closer as he pressed himself against her, lips tracing the curve of her neck.