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Niki sat on the edge of the bed, half-dressed, methodically buttoning his shirt. His eyes, though, had long abandoned the task at hand. Across the room, James stood by the window, the golden morning light spilling over his bare chest, casting his lean figure in a warm glow. He was staring out at the street, casually sipping from a mug, his hair a wild, blonde mess that somehow made him look effortlessly perfect.
Lauda’s gaze lingered, tracing the curve of James’s broad shoulders, the easy way he stood—completely relaxed, utterly himself. It never ceased to amaze him how James could make chaos seem beautiful. Niki, with all his precision and need for control, felt a pang of admiration. There was something freeing about James’ carelessness, something magnetic in the way he lived entirely in the moment.
The thought made Niki smile, just the slightest tug of his lips as he watched. James was a force of nature, reckless and wild, and yet—somehow—he was also Niki’s. It was a truth that still felt surreal, even after all this time.
Lost in thought, Niki didn’t realize how long he’d been staring until James turned from the window, catching him in the act. A slow, mischievous grin spread across Hunt’s face, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement.
"See something you like, Niki?“ James teased, his voice low and playful as he set the mug down. He took a few steps toward Niki, his grin widening as he caught the faint hint of embarrassment crossing Niki’s expression.
Niki, never one to be easily flustered, cleared his throat and looked away, focusing back on his shirt as if it suddenly demanded his full attention. "You should get dressed. We’re going to be late," he muttered, his voice gruff, though the edge was softened by the warmth he couldn’t quite hide.
James, of course, didn’t let it go. He crossed the room in a few strides, standing in front of Niki, shirtless and unapologetically amused. "Oh, come on," he said, his tone light and teasing. "You were staring at me. Don’t deny it."
Niki shot him a look, his brow furrowed, but there was a flicker of affection in his eyes. "You’re impossible," he muttered, though the corners of his mouth betrayed him with the faintest hint of a smile.
James chuckled and leaned down, his fingers brushing against Niki’s jaw, tilting his chin up ever so slightly. "I like it when you look at me like that," he said softly, the playful edge fading into something more genuine.
Niki didn’t pull away. He couldn’t, not when James was this close, his presence so magnetic. He swallowed, trying to maintain his usual composure, but it was hard when James had that look in his eyes—the one that told Niki he was seen, truly seen, for everything he was.
"James…" Niki began, but before he could say anything else, James bent down and kissed him, softly at first, then deeper, his hand gently resting against Niki’s neck. It wasn’t hurried or heated, just... loving, the kind of kiss that melted the tension in Niki’s chest and made him forget whatever argument he’d been preparing.
When James finally pulled back, he grinned, his forehead resting against Niki’s. "You’re staring again," he whispered.
Niki let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. "Maybe I am," he admitted, his voice quieter now, more relaxed. "But it’s your fault."
James pressed another quick kiss to his lips, his grin returning. "I’ll gladly take the blame for that."