19 - Lavender & Lies

They lay cocooned beneath the heavy duvet, skin-to-skin, their limbs tangled like roots beneath the soil.

The morning was slow to enter the room, leaking through the high window above the bed in slanted gold. Outside, birds trilled in the orchard, their songs a quiet punctuation to the thick silence between them.

Ezra lay still, chest pressed to Sebastian’s bare back, their breaths syncing in that primal, unthinking way—guided not just by sleep but by something deeper.

Beneath his nose, Sebastian’s scent clung thick and potent. Lavender—damp, warm, dizzying and, saturating Ezra’s skin and lungs and blood.

Ezra inhaled deeply, and the scent hit him like smoke in a closed room. His cock twitched, but more than that—something under his skin pulsed.

A strange ache curled low in his stomach, a raw and wild instinct whispering closer, keep him near, don’t let go.

His hand was sprawled across Sebastian’s stomach—smooth, warm, still trembling faintly from what they’d done. Ezra’s fingers flexed, dragging across skin that twitched and fluttered in response.

Sebastian shifted, voice low and heavy with sleep. “How am I supposed to hide the hickeys?”

Ezra chuckled, lips brushing the dip of Sebastian’s neck. The taste of salt and something sweeter lingered there—Omega pheromones, soaked into skin, into the bite marks Ezra had left. “The twins won’t notice. They only look at you if you’re holding snacks.”

Sebastian let out a short breath that might’ve been a laugh, but Ezra felt the tremor roll through his back. A soft vibration. It reverberated between them.

Ezra paused. His mouth hovered above Sebastian’s skin. He hesitated, then said quieter now, “Mia already knows.”

There was a beat. Sebastian’s body stilled. Just slightly. Enough for Ezra’s instincts to flare again.

“Knows what?” Sebastian asked.

Ezra exhaled. “That we had sex. She heard us arguing last night.”

Silence.

Sebastian groaned into the pillow. “God. That’s mortifying.”

Ezra moved closer, spooning him until they fit again, until Sebastian’s back was sealed to Ezra’s chest.

The scent was stronger here—tucked beneath the duvet, their sweat and pheromones stewing in the air like steam.

Ezra felt drunk on it. His body hummed, tuned to Sebastian in a way that felt wrong only because it felt too right.

He hadn’t meant for it to feel like this.

His hand slid lower, from Sebastian’s stomach to his waist. He fit there perfectly. Ezra could span it with one hand—thumb on one hip, pinky grazing the other. Possessiveness curled tight in his gut, hot and sharp.

So small. So breakable. So fucking his.

He kissed a slow trail down Sebastian’s neck, each press of his mouth instinctive. Reverent. Marking. “She probably thinks you were disciplining me,” he murmured, lips against the soft skin at the base of Sebastian’s throat.

Sebastian gave a tired laugh. “You want to get grounded next?”

Ezra didn’t answer. He only nuzzled deeper, letting the bond tug at him—silent, invisible, but unmistakable now. He felt tethered. It throbbed between them, nascent and unspoken. His Omega.

A long pause. Then, Sebastian asked—too casually—“Why were we arguing last night?”

Ezra froze.

Sebastian felt it. Of course he did. Alphas weren’t the only ones with instincts.

“Ezra,” he said.

Ezra sat up slightly, propping himself on an elbow, the duvet sliding down to pool at his waist.

He was still hard—half-hardened by scent and memory, by the way Sebastian’s body had clung to his, slick and begging and desperate. But now that heat warred with a sharper kind of fear.

“I just…” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I want to keep this between us. For now.”

Sebastian turned, eyes searching. “Keep it a secret.”

Ezra nodded. “Please. I’m not ready for everyone to know. Try to understand.”

Something dimmed in Sebastian’s gaze. The bond tugged again—taut, strained. Like a wire beginning to fray.

“Understand,” he echoed. But it was hollow. No scent laced the word. It came flat. Dry. Distant.

Then he pulled away.

Ezra didn’t stop him. Not at first. He just watched as Sebastian rolled out of bed, the duvet sliding from his shoulders and baring the soft, flushed skin Ezra had kissed and bitten just hours earlier.

Sebastian’s bare thighs trembled faintly when he stood. Ezra could smell the way their sex lingered on him—sweet and slick and unmistakably Omega.

And it did something dangerous to Ezra’s mind.

Sebastian bent to grab his sweatshirt from the chair. Ezra’s gaze snagged on the gentle arch of his back, on the curve of his spine. Every instinct roared.

He moved.

The sheets tangled at his feet, but he crossed the room quickly, reaching out before he could think better of it. “Seb.”

Sebastian didn’t turn.

“Sebastian,” Ezra said again, softer now. His hands found Sebastian’s waist—warm, slender, still so pliant beneath his touch.

Ezra’s thumbs stroked over his ribs, his hips. Something in him needed this. Touch. Contact. Reassurance that he hadn’t broken something vital.

Ezra tilted him, just slightly, guiding his hips into the faintest arch. His body remembered. His hands remembered. Every inch of Sebastian’s body had already carved itself into Ezra’s nerves, into his scent glands, into the quiet heat behind his ribs.

Sebastian sighed.

Ezra leaned down, lips brushing along the curve of Sebastian’s neck. His scent gland pulsed beneath Ezra’s mouth, faint and hot. Ezra almost bit again. Almost sealed it.

“Don’t go like this.”

Sebastian’s hands hovered, indecisive. Then settled lightly over Ezra’s.

He turned to face him. Ezra could see it in his eyes—something wounded. Something weary.

“So what are we now?” Sebastian asked. “Friends? Co-parents with benefits?”

Ezra swallowed. “It’s not like that.”

“It is,” Sebastian said. “You want to sleep with me, bond with me”—and Ezra flinched because he’d felt it too—“but keep me a secret. Ezra. It’s exactly like that.”

Ezra’s grip tightened without meaning to. His pheromones flared—protective, anxious, thick with Alpha instinct. “I just need time.”

Sebastian didn’t flinch. He just nodded slowly. Then leaned in and kissed Ezra’s shoulder—soft, lingering, final.

“It’s okay,” he said.

But Ezra felt the cut of those words.

I’ll survive this too.

Sebastian pulled away completely this time. The bond thinned, stretched too far. Not broken—but the ache of distance made Ezra’s gut knot.

Sebastian tugged the sweatshirt over his head, hiding the hickeys, the claiming marks. Erasing the evidence.

“When you go pick up the kids,” he said, glancing back once, “get actual lube. Vaseline’s for elbows.”

Then he left, bare-legged and quiet, like a breeze slipping out the door.

Ezra didn’t follow.

He stood in the center of the room, naked and exposed, the scent of lavender still thick in the air.

The sheets were bunched at his feet, the duvet cold now. The door clicked softly behind Sebastian—just the bedroom, not the house. He was still here.

But Ezra felt the absence like a wound.

He looked down.

His cock was still half-hard, flushed and aching, smeared with slick and his own release. He could still feel the way Sebastian had clenched around him.

The way his Omega scent had spiked mid-climax. The way his voice had broken into Ezra’s mouth when he came.

Ezra’s hand clenched. He dragged it through his hair, shaking. His scent was everywhere—Alpha and needy and unsettled.

And under his breath, hoarse and broken, he said: “I’m not gay.”

The words barely registered. They didn’t land. Didn’t mean anything anymore.

Because Ezra was marked. He was claimed too—unofficially, invisibly, completely.

He could still feel Sebastian in his bones.

And still, he stood there—naked, hard, aching.

And alone.