21 - In The Name Of Fatherhood (And Horniness)

Ezra sat on the edge of his bed, hunched over his phone like it might bite.

The room was dim, lit only by the soft golden spill from the hallway. Shadows clung to the corners. He didn’t move, didn’t blink much. The phone glowed in his hand.

The sheets still smelled like clean laundry and lavender. Sebastian. That scent had sunk into everything—his pillows, his skin.

It wasn’t overpowering anymore, but it still ghosted the room, soft and warm and maddening. Ezra hated how easily he recognized it now. How it made his mouth water and his blood pulse.

The house was too quiet. The kind of quiet that made every breath feel like a decision.

He typed fast.

Ezra: You up?

He stared at the words. Too casual. He deleted it.

Ezra: Come over.

Too needy. He groaned and deleted that too.

Eventually:

Ezra: Are you awake?

The read receipt popped up instantly.

No reply.

He waited. His thumb tapped the edge of the phone. He looked at the doorway. Then his feet. Then back at the phone. His jaw flexed. His scent was rising—spice and heat and faint frustration curling into the air like smoke.

Buzz.

Sebastian: Unfortunately.

Ezra exhaled. His pulse kicked higher.

Ezra: Come back.

Pause.

Sebastian: For what?

Ezra clenched his teeth. For what. Like Sebastian didn’t know exactly what. He wiped a hand down his face, heat prickling at the back of his neck.

Ezra: You know why.

Sebastian: No, I don’t. Enlighten me.

Ezra groaned out loud and threw the phone down. Paced. Picked it up again.

Ezra: Don’t make me say it.

Three dots.

Gone.

Ezra: Please.

Still nothing.

Ezra: Don’t make me beg.

This time, the dots came fast.

Sebastian: Beg, then.

Ezra's body went still. A tremor went through his limbs, his scent sharpening with want. The air in the room thickened, already tinged with the ghost of Sebastian’s earlier heat. Not fresh now, but not gone either—like embers under ash, still capable of reigniting.

Ezra: Sebastian.

Sebastian: Say it.

Ezra licked his lips. His fingers hovered over the keys.

Ezra: I want you here.

Sebastian: Why.

His throat worked. The words came slower.

Ezra: Because I want you.

Silence stretched. Thick, charged.

Then:

Sebastian: Leave the door open.

Ezra stood so fast the bed creaked under him. He crossed the room on instinct, cracked the door just enough for that strip of hallway light to spill in—and then he waited.

One minute. Two. His scent grew hotter, sharper. The longer Sebastian made him wait, the more feral the edge became.

Then, finally—a soft creak. The front door. Footsteps, slow and careful. Floorboards shifted beneath light weight. Ezra held still, jaw clenched so hard it hurt.

And then—Sebastian.

He stepped into view like sin personified. Hoodie gone. Just a thin, wrinkled white tee, loose around the collar. Bare legs. Boxers hugging him too well. His hair was damp, curls clinging to his forehead. His scent hit first—lavender, rich and warm, laced with the fading edge of slick and heat.

Ezra’s eyes darkened. The room pulsed with tension.

Sebastian leaned in the doorway like it cost him something. His fingers dug into the frame.

“I wasn’t going to come,” he said softly. “But then you begged.”

Ezra swallowed. “I didn’t—”

“You begged, Ezra.”

His name sounded different in Sebastian’s mouth—like a promise or a weapon.

Ezra stepped forward once.

Sebastian didn’t move.

“You knew I would,” Ezra muttered, voice low.

Sebastian’s mouth curved. A sin of a smile.

Ezra crossed the distance fast, his hand sliding to Sebastian’s waist—warm, narrow, familiar. The contact sizzled through them both.

Ezra’s scent flared hotter, wrapping around them, dominant and hungry. Sebastian’s body reacted subtly—breath catching, thighs shifting, a small flare of lavender thickening into the air.

“You smell like lavender again,” Ezra breathed, mouth near Sebastian’s ear.

“And you smell like bad decisions,” Sebastian whispered.

Ezra didn’t smile. He kissed him.

Hard.

Their mouths clashed—teeth, tongues, breath. Sebastian made a sound low in his throat, hands gripping Ezra’s shirt, letting himself be walked backward into the room. The door shut behind them with a soft, final click.

Sebastian hit the wall, and Ezra didn’t stop. Mouth against jaw, neck, down the column of his throat. His teeth scraped soft skin and the scent burst, heat blooming again like it never really left.

“You’re still in heat,” Ezra growled, muffled against Sebastian’s skin.

“Simmering,” Sebastian whispered. “And you triggered it in the first place.”

Ezra let out something between a growl and a groan. He pulled back just enough to grab the drawer by the bed.

“I brought the lube,” he said, rough.

Sebastian’s laugh was ruined. “You brought it where?”

Ezra didn’t answer. He pulled the bottle free, turned, and threw Sebastian a look that left nothing to question.

Sebastian climbed up on the bed, slow, deliberate. He turned, shirt loose, boxers half-slipped. Then he bent forward—on his knees, palms to the mattress, back arched so perfectly Ezra couldn’t breathe.

“Like this.”

Ezra cursed under his breath. His hands trembled as he slicked his fingers, climbed behind Sebastian, dropped to his knees.

He touched him—slow at first. Sebastian gasped, pushing back, greedy for more. Ezra worked him open, fingers slick and steady, scent flaring sharp and wet and impossibly good.

“More,” Sebastian begged. “Please—don’t be gentle.”

Ezra’s vision blurred. His instincts slammed into overdrive. He slicked himself, hands gripping Sebastian’s hips with bruising force, and thrust forward in one brutal, deep slide.

Sebastian choked on a cry, head buried in the mattress.

Ezra didn’t stop. Couldn’t. The room filled with wet, obscene sound. Their scents collided—lavender and slick and spice and alpha musk, thick in the air.

Sebastian’s moans spilled into the sheets. “Fuck—Ezra—don’t stop—”

Ezra leaned forward, chest pressed to Sebastian’s back, one arm curling around his waist. His other hand slid up, wrapped around Sebastian’s throat—not tight, just grounding.

“You’re mine,” Ezra breathed, barely aware he’d said it.

Sebastian whined—needy, wrecked. “Touch me—please—”

Ezra reached under and gripped him, pumping him in rhythm with every thrust. Sebastian came fast, body shuddering, slick dripping between his thighs. Ezra followed in a heartbeat, groaning as his knot swelled and locked deep inside.

Sebastian gasped, back arching hard.

Ezra gritted his teeth, panting into Sebastian’s neck as wave after wave of release spilled into him, thick and hot and too much. It leaked out around the knot, ran down Sebastian’s thighs, soaked into the sheets.

They stayed like that, knotted, tangled, scent-drunk and breathless. Sebastian trembled, still twitching around him, body flushed and damp and slack with satisfaction.

Ezra kissed the back of his neck. Bit softly at his shoulder.

Minutes passed. Slowly, the knot began to ease.

Ezra pulled out with care. The aftermath was messy—Sebastian’s thighs wet, scent heavy with sex and slick and claim. Ezra eased him down onto the bed, wiped a slow hand down his back, then lay beside him, arm wrapping protectively around his waist.

Sebastian curled into the heat of him, breath still catching in soft bursts.

Ezra’s nose brushed against damp curls. “You good?”

“Mmhmm,” Sebastian hummed, voice ruined and soft. “You?”

Ezra grunted, satisfied. His fingers dragged lightly over Sebastian’s hip.

Sebastian tilted his head, smirking lazily. “You’re leaking out of me, you know.”

Ezra just pulled him closer. “Good.”

“Alpha,” Sebastian teased, voice low.

Ezra growled playfully, biting at his neck again.

Then Sebastian went still for a beat.

“I need to go get pills tomorrow,” he murmured.

Ezra’s body tensed slightly around him.

Sebastian didn’t look up—just curled tighter, voice quiet.

“I’ll take care of it. Just... letting you know.”

Ezra said nothing. He only held him tighter, jaw tight, his scent pulsing slow and deep around them both.