The motorcycle's engine sputtered to a halt outside Hamza's house, a simple two room structure tucked away in a quiet corner of the neighborhood. The night air was cool now, stars twinkling overhead as Hamza killed the ignition and swung his leg off the bike. His body still thrummed with the unresolved tension from the ride, every nerve ending alive and demanding release. Uzair dismounted behind him, his own arousal evident in the way he shifted uncomfortably, eyes locked on Hamza's broad back.

Without a word, Hamza grabbed Uzair's wrist in a firm grip, pulling him toward the entrance with urgent strides. The door creaked open and they stumbled inside. Hamza didn't pause, dragging Uzair down the short hallway to his bedroom. The door slammed shut behind them, the lock clicking with finality. The room was dimly lit by a single bedside lamp, casting warm shadows over the unmade bed and scattered clothes on the floor.