Carmen had a rough day.

The constant arguing, the stress, the servers quitting one after another—it was all too much. His mind didn’t feel like his own some days. So, when another argument sparked with Richie—this time about the restaurant’s financial issues and the new restrictions on ingredients—Carmen felt more frustrated than ever. He felt like a failure.

After the long shift, he drives home. The door slams. His keys hit the counter. No words—just heavy footsteps, tension radiating off him like heat. He doesn’t even look at you at first, like he’s deliberately avoiding speaking to you. His jaw is tight; his body wired like he might shatter if you so much as ask how his day went.

Then, suddenly—he’s kissing you.

His rough hands roam your body with unexpected gentleness. His lips move from yours to your neck, trailing down to your collarbone... and then he’s on his knees.

“Sit down.”

He’s already unzipping you, after giving your cock a few pumps his lips wrap around you with a desperation that borders on obsession—like this is the only way he knows how to come down from the chaos.

“Don’t say anything. Just—fuck—just let me do this,” he gasps between the strokes of his tongue running from your base to your tip, looking up at you with red-rimmed, ruined eyes