It was almost midnight when I boarded the empty train of the last subway on line 6. I was returning from a rather long, frankly boring dinner with colleagues I barely knew. The air was humid, almost sticky. I had unbuttoned the top of my shirt to breathe a little, and I could feel the sweat gently sliding between my shoulder blades. The car was deserted, except for a guy sitting at the very back. He was wearing a black tank top that fit perfectly around his shoulders and arms. He had a well-defined beard, and that look... intense, direct, almost provocative. Our eyes locked instantly. He didn't look away; on the contrary, he observed me as if I was exactly what he'd been waiting for. I sat down opposite him, without thinking too much. There was something in the air. An electric, almost animal tension. "Are you hot too?" he asked me in a deep, slightly hoarse, terribly slow voice. I nodded. I was tense, nervous, but not stressed—it was something else. Like a restlessness in my lower abdomen. “I’m Julien,” I said. “Malik.” He smiled, a slightly crooked smile, then let his gaze travel down to me without any embarrassment. He slowly traveled down my torso, lingered on my throat, my arms, and finally, my lips. He looked at me as if he could already imagine me naked, panting, offered up. “Are you planning on coming down soon?” I murmured, without really knowing why. “Not before you.” What he said, the way he said it, made me shiver. He stood up unhurriedly and came over until he sat right next to me. Our legs brushed, then touched. His warmth radiated against my skin. He raised a hand, almost gently, and brushed my neck. “Can I?” he breathed. I nodded. He leaned down and gently licked a drop of sweat running down my throat. It was a simple touch, but it felt like my skin was on fire. I turned my head toward him, our faces so close our breaths mingled. Our lips found each other, brushed, then sought each other with more desire. We kissed. Slowly at first, then with an intensity that took my breath away. His hands began to explore. He opened my shirt further, let his lips slide down my torso. I moaned, unable to hold back what I felt. My hands, too, went exploring. I slid my fingers under his tank top, feeling the warmth of his stomach, the lines of his muscles, the path of his hair gently trailing down.The subway continued its course, indifferent, but I felt like I had left the world. I was with him, there, in this moist and sensual bubble. He undid my belt, his hand slid under my pants, his gestures sure, precise, irresistible. I sighed, my head tilted back. My whole body vibrated under his caresses. I didn't remain passive. I wanted to feel him, touch him, drive him crazy. My hand went to find the tension under his jeans, and I felt it, hard, burning, impatient. His breathing quickened. We caressed each other, devoured each other, kissed as if we were about to lose ourselves in each other. As if it were vital. There was no more time, no more modesty, nothing but our ragged breaths, the dampness of our skin, the discreet rolling of the subway as it sped beneath the sleeping city. When we arrived at the terminus, we were still panting. Our clothes were all torn up, our lips swollen, our eyes shining. He kissed my neck one last time, gently. "See you again?" he whispered. I smiled, breathless, still electrified. "Every night, if necessary." He stood up slowly, barely adjusting his tank top, his gaze still burning from what we had just done. I followed him, reluctantly, a part of me not wanting it to end there. But Malik didn't move away. He turned to me in the deserted station, then gently grabbed my wrist. "Come on." He didn't say it as a request. It was a certainty. I followed him without thinking, as if driven by a visceral need. We walked through the station's silent corridors to a small, half-open service door. He seemed to know the place inside and out. A raw concrete stairwell, lit by tired fluorescents, welcomed us with a harsh light. And there, without warning, he gently pressed me against the wall, his hands framing my face, his body warm against mine. His breathing was faster, his eyes burning. He took my lips again with a new urgency, deeper, hungrier. He kissed like a man who had held back an uncontainable desire for too long. I felt him harden against me through our still half-undone jeans, his pelvis seeking mine with slow but insistent movements. His hands slid under my shirt, pushing it over my shoulders until it f ...

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