Chapter Five:Acceptance

It started with silence. Not the heavy, awkward kind that usually hung between Alex and Brian—but a quiet that felt like the world was holding its breath, waiting to see what they’d do next.

For the first time in weeks, they were in the same room without arguing. It was a Sunday afternoon, warm light pouring into the kitchen. Rachel was out, and Daniel had gone to a security conference. They were alone.

Brian stood near the window, his arms crossed, eyes fixed on the sky. Alex leaned on the counter, his fingers nervously tracing the rim of his juice glass.

“I told my dad,” Brian said without turning.

Alex blinked. “You did?”

Brian nodded. “He… wasn’t mad. Actually, he told me not to break you.”

That pulled a laugh from Alex. It was soft, but real.

“I told my mom,” Alex replied. “She already knew. Moms always do, don’t they?”

Brian finally looked at him, his face softer than Alex had ever seen. “You’re not angry about the kiss?”

Alex shook his head. “Are you?”

“No,” Brian said. He stepped closer, closing the space between them slowly. “I’m scared. But I’m not angry.”

Alex looked up at him. “Scared of what?”

“Of hurting you. Of not being what you need.” His voice dropped. “Of this bond making you feel like you have no choice.”

“You think I don’t?” Alex asked. “Brian… I’ve wanted you for a long time. The bond didn’t change that. It just made it harder to pretend.”

Their eyes locked, and something unspoken passed between them. A shift.

“I want this,” Alex whispered. “I want you.”

Brian reached out and gently took Alex’s hand in his. “Then let’s stop pretending.”

The days that followed were different—quietly, cautiously different. They didn’t rush into declarations or grand gestures. But the walls between them began to fall.

Brian started waiting for Alex after school. Not in the obvious way—but casually leaning on the hood of his car, as if it was a coincidence.

Alex stopped using sarcasm as a shield. He smiled more. Laughed at Brian’s stupid jokes. He even invited him into his room—to watch movies, sketch, and talk. Just talk.

Their friends noticed. Liam pulled Alex aside during lunch. “You seem… lighter,” he said. “Did something change?”

Alex hesitated, then nodded. “We’re trying. It’s real.”

Liam smiled. “Good. You deserve real.”

Tessa hugged him tightly later that day, whispering, “About time.”

Not everyone was thrilled. Drew, Brian’s alpha friend, kept his distance. Kyla gave Brian a look he couldn’t quite read—half curiosity, half concern.

But neither Brian nor Alex cared.

One night, as they sat on the rooftop outside Alex’s window, wrapped in a blanket, watching stars in comfortable silence, Brian turned to him.

“Can I kiss you again?” he asked, voice low.

Alex smiled, leaning in. “You don’t have to ask.”

This time, it wasn’t desperate or rushed.

It was soft.

Certain.

The kiss of two people learning to let themselves love.

And finally, they weren’t running anymore.