Steam rose, swirling through the small bathroom as the warm spray of the shower echoed off the tiles. Kael stepped in first, pulling Liora in by the hand, his smile soft with sleep and something deeper.
Riven followed close behind, wrapping his arms around her from behind just as the water hit. The three of them stood still for a moment—bodies pressed together, skin warming under the spray, steam wrapping them in a secret world.
Liora leaned back into Riven's chest as Kael reached for the shampoo, his fingers slipping into her wet hair. She closed her eyes, letting him gently massage her scalp, his touch slow and affectionate, almost reverent. Riven kissed her shoulder, his lips warm against her cool, damp skin.
"I could get used to mornings like this," Kael murmured, tilting her chin up for a kiss. Their lips met—soft and slow at first, but deepening quickly, as though every breath they shared still wasn't enough.
When they parted, Riven turned her gently to face him. "Me too," he said, brushing a wet strand of hair from her cheek before leaning in to kiss her—his mouth lingering, coaxing her deeper into it.
Kael moved behind her now, hands trailing down her arms, wrapping around her middle. His lips touched the back of her neck, soft and damp with steam. She sighed, letting herself fall into the warmth of their bodies, the safety of being between them.
Riven's fingers trailed down her sides, slick from the water. He pressed his lips to the center of her chest, pausing over her heart. "You feel everything, don't you?" he whispered.
She nodded, her throat tight. "With you two... I can't not."
Kael reached around her front, slipping his hands over her belly, then upward. He cupped her breasts, kissing the shell of her ear as Riven dropped lower, planting slow kisses along her abdomen. She was trembling now, not from cold, but from the intimacy—the way they touched her like she was something to be cherished, not claimed.
Riven sank to his knees before her in the shallow pool of water at their feet. Kael held her steady as Riven kissed slowly along the inside of her thighs, hands guiding her gently. Every kiss was soft but heavy with intent, each touch like a quiet question: Do you feel this? Do you want more?
She did.
Her fingers found Kael's hand and squeezed tightly as Riven continued lower, his tongue tracing delicate patterns. Kael held her, grounding her, whispering against her neck, "Let us take care of you."
She gasped, her head falling back against Kael's shoulder as her body melted under the touch—pleasure drawn not from urgency, but from the ache of being seen and loved completely.
Later, they stood under the water again, arms around each other, letting the warmth wash over their bodies, their hearts beating in rhythm.
Riven brushed his nose against hers. "You're ours, you know."
Liora smiled through damp lashes, her fingers threading through Kael's.
"I was yours the moment I let you touch me under that library table."
They laughed—soft, breathy, intimate—and in that moment, wrapped in steam and each other, they knew this wasn't just desire anymore.
It was something deeper. Something none of them wanted to name just yet—but all of them felt in their bones.
.
The kitchen was warm with the smell of sizzling butter and coffee brewing. Riven stood barefoot in front of the stove, humming softly, flipping something in the pan. Kael leaned against the counter nearby, sleeves rolled up, fingers sticky with jam, lazily eating strawberries.
"You're burning it," Kael teased, nodding toward the pan.
"I am not," Riven said, rolling his eyes. "You're distracting."
"That's not my fault," Kael replied with a grin, reaching out to smudge a bit of jam on Riven's cheek. "You make it too easy."
Riven chuckled, turning and catching Kael's wrist. He pulled him in for a kiss—slow and familiar, like something they'd done a thousand times before but still new each time.
That was when Liora walked in, her presence like a warm breeze. She wore nothing but one of Kael's oversized white button-down shirts, hanging loose and open enough to tease both boys into a pause. The hem barely grazed her thighs, the collar slipping off one shoulder. Her eyes were still soft with sleep.
"Good morning," she murmured, voice husky as she walked over barefoot, her steps light on the tile. "Smells good."
Kael swallowed, eyes tracing her slowly. "You look... delicious."
"I just came to help," she said, feigning innocence. She leaned between them, her hip brushing against Riven's, her hand sneaking a berry from Kael's plate. "What's cooking?"
"French toast," Riven replied, trying not to visibly react to her closeness. "And maybe the rest of us, if you keep walking around like that."
She grinned. "Should I help you two... or distract you more?"
Kael reached around her waist, pulling her closer. "You're already doing both."
She rested her head on Kael's shoulder while her fingers found Riven's hand. The three stood there for a moment—entwined, breathing in the shared quiet, the sizzle of the pan the only sound.
Riven handed her a spoon. "Fine. You can stir the sauce. But don't blame us if you end up back on the counter."
Liora smirked, twirling the spoon between her fingers. "Then I better stir slowly."
Kael leaned down and pressed a kiss to her temple, then met Riven's gaze over her head. "This is dangerous," he said, smiling.
"And perfect," Riven replied.
In the soft light of morning, laughter and stolen touches filled the small kitchen. The toast may have been a little burnt, but no one seemed to care.
--
Kael watched as Riven turned off the stove, then moved in close. Without a word, he cupped Riven's face and kissed him—soft, slow, like breathing each other in. Liora stood a step back, heart fluttering at the sight, something in her chest tightening with affection and longing.
Their kiss deepened, filled with quiet understanding—the way only two people who had weathered storms together could kiss. When they finally pulled apart, Riven rested his forehead against Kael's, eyes closed, both of them smiling.
Liora didn't move. Didn't speak. Just watched the moment stretch between them, sacred and golden.
Kael reached for her without looking, tugging her gently into their space. She melted into his side, her cheek against his shoulder. Riven wrapped an arm around her waist from behind, resting his chin on her other shoulder.
It was quiet—just the three of them tangled in a hug that felt like home.
"Breakfast can wait," Kael murmured.
"No," Liora whispered, a playful smile curving her lips. "It'll burn again."
Riven chuckled, lips brushing the edge of her jaw. "Then let it. I'd rather taste something sweeter."
She turned in his arms, her fingers brushing through his hair, then reached for Kael with her other hand. There was no rush—just gentle touches, warm sighs, and the grounding weight of being wanted, fully, deeply, as she was.
Kael trailed a kiss along her collarbone, while Riven leaned down and kissed the inside of her wrist, his thumb brushing over her pulse.
No words. Just breath. And connection.
The pan on the stove hissed in protest.
"I think breakfast really is burning," Kael said with a groan, not moving.
"Let it," Riven said again, pressing a kiss just below Liora's ear. "Some things are worth more than toast."
And as they stood there—arms around each other, tangled hearts and half-laughed kisses—the kitchen became a cocoon of something fragile and fierce. Love, real and messy and rising like warmth from the oven.
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