Rafael changed quickly into something simple, like he'd decided he wouldn't give the day the satisfaction of becoming a performance. A soft blue shirt, dark trousers, and house shoes made Peter look faintly pleased, as if Rafael choosing comfort counted as a moral victory.
He tied his hair back with a clip because if he left it down, Gregoris would touch it, and Rafael did not have time to be distracted again.
Not with Layle waiting.
Not with the shape of their family shifting under their feet.
Gregoris remained in the bedroom, unbothered and infuriatingly calm, as if he hadn't personally committed a crime against the concept of morning. He caught Rafael at the door with a hand at his waist.
Rafael exhaled, leaned in, and stole a brief kiss, because he was not going to pretend he didn't want it. Not with a man built like sin and smelling even better.
Then he left before he could be tempted into staying.
