He Fuck His Lover In The Wood

Ayan had always admired Zubair from afar. They lived in the same apartment building in Dhaka, exchanging shy glances in the elevator, brief nods in the corridor, and stolen moments of eye contact that lingered just a second too long.

One night, during a sudden blackout, Ayan found himself on the rooftop, escaping the heat of his tiny apartment. He wasn’t surprised to find Zubair there too, sitting on the ledge, looking over the quiet city, his face softly illuminated by the moonlight.

"Couldn’t sleep?" Ayan asked, leaning against the railing.

Zubair chuckled. "Yeah. It’s too hot inside. And... maybe I was hoping someone else would be up here too."

Ayan’s heart skipped a beat. "Oh? And who might that be?"

Zubair turned to him, a playful smirk on his lips. "You, of course."

Silence settled between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. The distant sound of rickshaws and the occasional barking of street dogs filled the night air.

"Can I tell you something?" Zubair finally said, his voice quieter now.

"Anything," Ayan whispered.

"I think... I like you," Zubair admitted, his gaze never leaving Ayan’s.

Ayan felt warmth spread through him, a smile tugging at his lips. "Good," he said, stepping closer. "Because I like you too."

As the moon shone down on them, two hearts found their way to each other, no words needed, just the quiet promise of something new.