27 - Just Neighbors

The scent of strong coffee clung to the air like a promise—sharp, grounding, and laced now with something Ezra couldn't quite shake.

A hint of lavender and warmth still lingered in the kitchen, ghosting over the tiled floor like a memory he didn’t want to name.

Ezra leaned against the counter, one hand wrapped around a ceramic mug, the other absently thumbing through emails on his phone.

Morning light filtered through the kitchen window, pooling gold across the space. The house was too quiet, but it suited him. It gave the heat in his body time to settle.

Last night still clung to his skin—Sebastian’s weight pressed into him, the soft sound of his moans, the way Ezra had buried his nose into the crook of his neck and inhaled like he couldn’t stop. He hadn’t said it—not aloud—but he’d thought it.

Omega.

And Sebastian had preened under it, eyelashes fluttering, breath catching, body arching just the way Ezra liked. The scent had changed after, spiced with desire and slick heat—an intoxicating blend that made Ezra’s mouth water even now.

Footsteps padded into the room.

"Morning," came a voice. Barely a whisper.

Mia.

She hovered in the doorway, swallowed in a hoodie, hair pulled into a loose bun, eyes fixed on the floor. Ezra didn’t look up at first. His throat was tight.

He grunted—noncommittal.

The silence stretched until she moved across the room and wrapped her arms around his waist. Ezra froze.

"I'm sorry," she murmured. "For being sneaky and lying. I won’t do it again, I promise. I love you."

Ezra set the mug down, tugged her in and held her tight, resting his chin on her head. Her citrus scent was muted but familiar, grounding him.

"I love you too, baby," he murmured. "I shouldn’t have yelled. And the phone..."

She shook her head. "It’s okay. You were scared. I get it."

He pulled back, touching her cheek. "We’ll go get a new one later today, alright?"

Her eyes lit up. "Okay! I’m supposed to babysit for Priya anyway."

"Eat first."

"Kiran’s making Fruit veggies."

"Spoiled brat."

"Love you!" she chirped, skipping off.

Ezra watched her go, chest loosening. He took a slow sip of coffee, trying not to remember the lavender that had been clinging to his sheets.

Until—

“Dad?”

Caleb and Camden, still rumpled from sleep, shuffled in.

"Where’s Daddy?" Caleb asked.

"Still sleeping," Ezra said.

"Can we wake him?"

He barely had time to answer before they were thundering upstairs. Ezra followed slowly, coffee in hand.

"Daddy!" they screamed.

A thump. "Ow—what the—"

"Wake up, Daddy!"

Ezra arrived at the door just as Sebastian, curls a mess and shirt halfway up his stomach, groaned dramatically into the pillows.

“Ezra! Get your tiny humans off me!”

Ezra leaned against the doorframe, watching them pile on. Sebastian was pink-cheeked, bleary-eyed, and smelled faintly of Alpha—his Alpha. That scent still clung to his skin from last night’s claiming attempts, despite the lack of a proper mark.

"Only when your Dad exhausts me," Sebastian muttered, fixing Ezra with a glare that melted quickly under his gaze.

Ezra finally intervened, lifting both boys. "Alright, let him breathe."

“But pancakes—”

“Kiran’s pancakes, not Daddy’s,” Ezra corrected.

Sebastian flopped onto his back with a sigh, curls spilling over his forehead. Ezra met his eyes.

"You good?"

Sebastian’s voice was soft. “Yeah.”

Ezra let it linger a beat too long before clearing his throat. “Come down when you’re alive.”

“I need coffee and maybe a less fertile environment.”

“No promises.”

The twins’ laughter echoed behind him as Ezra carried them down, heart oddly light.

The court was basked in sun. Ezra pushed the mower in steady, clean lines. A few feet away, Sebastian stood barefoot on the driveway, sleeves rolled up, watering the flowerbeds.

The twins shrieked with joy every time the spray from the hose caught them.

“You’re supposed to water the flowers, not the pups,” Ezra called.

Sebastian smirked. “They’re blooming too.”

Across the road, the Atwells were already grilling. Rachel, in her usual crisp white, sat with sunglasses perched on her nose, sipping from a tall glass of “lemonade.”

Priya waved from her porch. Tomas and Felix shuffled over with pizza boxes, nodding at everyone with shy smiles.

Ezra wiped sweat from his brow and nodded toward the gathering. “Looks like we’re being summoned.”

Sebastian joined him, the twins scampering ahead.

“Fruit punch, anyone?” Priya called, cheeks flushed. She looked relieved to be outside—Mia had taken over baby duty inside, gently rocking Priya’s newborn to sleep.

"That girl's got the instincts," Priya had said earlier. "Barely fourteen, and already knows how to hush a storm."

The neighbors had started to buzz with light chatter. Tomas handed over the pizza.

“Food’s always safe,” Jonathan grinned.

But Rachel leaned forward, that smile on her lips too bright. “So, Sebastian. Are you the house Omega now?”

Sebastian blinked. Ezra’s hand tightened around a can of soda.

Rachel sipped her drink with a hum. “Or... should I say house husband? Hard to tell these days, especially with the way you’re always... glowing.”

“Rachel,” Jonathan warned, but she kept going.

“I mean, I can practically smell the heat off you,” she continued airily. “Not bonded, are you? That’s... interesting.”

Ezra stiffened.

Rachel’s smile sharpened. “It’s funny. Sebastian reeks of Alpha now. And I thought he was the Omega.” She turned slightly, voice syrup-sweet.

“Unless, of course, he seduced you first, Ezra? All those hormones can make people do strange things. Did he climb into your bed before or after—?”

Ezra slammed his palm against the table. The entire spread jolted. Children froze mid-laugh.

"Enough," he said, voice cold steel.

Jonathan turned. “Rachel. Apologize.”

“It was just a—”

“Now.”

She flushed. “Sorry.”

Ezra’s scent had spiked—sandalwood and spice, aggressive and hot. Sebastian’s head dipped slightly, lips parted, overwhelmed by the sudden wave of Alpha pheromones blanketing the air.

He swallowed, his lavender scent curling toward Ezra in response, instinctive. He didn’t speak—but his spine straightened, chin tilting slightly, like he wanted to be claimed right there. Ezra’s gaze flicked down, nostrils flaring, and for a second too long he forgot they weren’t alone.

Priya touched Sebastian’s arm gently. “Ignore her,” she whispered.

"People who need to tear others down aren’t worth breathing in.”

Sebastian gave her a silent nod, fingers white around his cup. Ezra exhaled slowly, willing his scent to settle, to pull back before he did something stupid—like drag Sebastian into the house and prove who he belonged to.

And from inside, Mia’s soft voice singing to Priya’s baby drifted through the window. A quiet reminder.

They were doing this for the kids. Not their instincts.

But when Ezra stepped just a little closer to Sebastian, voice low, threading through the pulse point behind his ear, he murmured:

“Sweet Omega.”

And Sebastian’s breath caught. Shoulders softened. He leaned ever so slightly into Ezra’s side, heat curling around them like a secret no one else could name.

The moment they stepped back inside, Sebastian’s scent hit Ezra like a thunderclap—thick, warm, ripe with a readiness that went far beyond heat.

It was the sharp, intoxicating musk of an Omega primed for breeding, even though the heat was long over. The lavender notes clung tightly, laced with something deeper, heavier, utterly irresistible.

Ezra’s breath hitched as his gaze locked on Sebastian. His body betrayed him instantly—muscles tensed, pulse spiked.

Without thinking, he stepped forward, pressing his nose deep into the hollow at Sebastian’s neck, inhaling hard, needing to claim that scent. The sharp intake of breath made Sebastian shiver.

Ezra’s hands slid around Sebastian’s waist, fingers gripping tight.

His body shifted, hips pressing hard against Sebastian’s ass, rutting against him with a desperate, almost feral hunger that made Sebastian gasp.

The warmth of Ezra’s touch was scorching; the tension so thick the room seemed to contract.

“Seb...” Ezra growled low, voice rough and thick, his breath hot against Sebastian’s skin. The Alpha’s scent—spicy sandalwood—mixed with Sebastian’s ripe musk, intoxicating and overwhelming.

But then, as fast as the storm rose, Ezra clenched his jaw, his hands tightening for a split second before he pulled away sharply, stepping back with ragged breaths.

“I can’t,” he said harshly, voice barely above a whisper. “Not now.”

Sebastian’s chest rose and fell rapidly, eyes wide with a mixture of relief and panic. The twins were right behind them, chatting loudly, completely unaware of the tension that had just cracked the air.

Camden tugged Sebastian’s sleeve. “Daddy, pancakes?”

“Yeah, pancakes,” Sebastian forced out, voice shaky but smiling.

Ezra glanced down at the boys, then at Mia who lingered nearby, watching him with quiet intensity. His eyes flicked back to Sebastian—who still radiated that intoxicating scent.

“Let me take the twins,” Ezra said quickly, already moving to gather Camden and Caleb. “You stay here with Mia.”

Mia lingered behind, her sharp eyes fixed on Sebastian, who was standing frozen, the heavy scent radiating from him like a cloud that wrapped the whole house.

Sebastian swallowed hard, his voice barely steady as he turned toward her. “Mia, what—”

She cut him off with a slow sigh, folding her arms. “Are you pregnant?”

The older Omega choked.

His breath hitched sharply, panic flooding his eyes. “What? No! No, I—What are you talking about? No, I’m not pregnant.”

Mia didn’t flinch. “Your scent. It’s different. It’s deeper, like it’s fused with everything in this house—walls, furniture, even the air we breathe. Yesterday at school, my friends were asking if my Omega father is pregnant. They said your scent is so strong, it’s overwhelming mine.”

Sebastian ran a trembling hand through his curls, voice cracking. “I’m not pregnant, Mia. It’s not—nothing like that.”

Mia studied him for a long moment, then nodded slowly, eyes still sharp but quiet. “Alright. But you better figure out what’s going on.”

Later that night, Sebastian sat on the edge of his bed, heart pounding as he pulled a small plastic stick from his drawer—the pregnancy test.

His hands shook as he gripped it tightly, eyes fixed on the waiting window, the weight of the question pressing down harder than any scent ever could.