32 - Deep In The Quiet

It was the following Saturday.

Weeks had passed since Ezra had first crossed that invisible line—since he'd crushed Sebastian against the kitchen wall with shaking hands and too many months of denial.

Since he'd kissed him like a man starved, since they'd collapsed into that bed and surrendered to something too big, too primal, to name.

Since then, the house had shifted into a strange rhythm—messy, imperfect, but undeniably theirs.

Ezra still worked late jobs, disappearing into sawdust and varnish, his scent lingering sharp and spicy on every doorway he touched.

Sebastian still packed school lunches with embarrassing little notes in the twins' bags, helped Mia with homework she pretended she didn’t need, folded Ezra’s shirts just to inhale the scent left behind on the fabric.

And most nights now—more nights than not—he ended up curled against Ezra's chest, tucked under the covers of a bed they never called theirs but always returned to.

That Saturday, the world was hushed.

Caleb had passed out face-first on the living room rug, one hand still clutched around a toy car. Camden was asleep on the couch, cocooned in a blanket, mouth slack. Mia's door was half-cracked, her headphones in—either asleep or pretending to be.

Rain tapped gently at the windows, a low, rhythmic hum. Cinnamon lingered in the air from something forgotten in the oven. Earthy petrichor seeped through the open balcony door.

Upstairs, in the bedroom, Sebastian slept sprawled across Ezra’s pillow, his scent blooming like lavender and warm sugar in the still air.

One leg was flung over Ezra’s side of the bed. His cheeks were still flushed, his thighs parted with sleep-heavy abandon.

The scent of slick and Ezra’s cum hung between his legs—thick, sweet, and unmistakably claimed.

Ezra hadn’t cleaned them up.

He liked the smell. The way Sebastian’s body still pulsed around nothing. The way his own scent—sandalwood and heat—was buried deep inside the Omega, layered with Sebastian’s lavender until the entire room reeked of sex and bondless hunger.

Ezra stirred, the heat between them reigniting in a slow, undeniable throb.

Something in his chest had been coiled tight since he closed his eyes, something that twisted tighter every time he breathed in that soft, lavender-tinged musk from the pillow beside him.

Sebastian shifted, letting out a soft sigh, his bare back arched like an invitation. His scent was sweeter now, dream-mellow and vulnerable, coaxing Ezra closer.

Ezra dipped his head to the base of Sebastian’s neck, nose dragging through the damp curls clinging there.

“Still warm,” he rasped, voice rough with sleep. “Still smellin’ like me.”

He slid his hand down Sebastian’s waist, slow and reverent, until his palm cupped the soft curve of his ass. The Omega made a sleepy noise, not quite protest, not quite consent—but his thighs parted wider, slick-slick against Ezra’s fingertips.

Ezra groaned, low and hungry.

“Still open for me, Omega,” he whispered, mouthing the words into the shell of Sebastian’s ear as if Sebastian was listening. “Still leaking.”

Sebastian shifted again, and that tiny movement was all it took—the air around them thickened, pheromones flaring instinctively.

Lavender swelled, curling sweet and submissive into Ezra’s lungs. It made his cock twitch, made his fingers tighten.

Ezra didn’t ask again.

He nudged forward, guiding himself down to that messy heat between Sebastian’s legs. The head of his cock slid through the slick—his own cum, still warm, still there and Sebastian made a soft, broken sound in his sleep as Ezra pushed in slowly.

The slide was obscene. Wet and too easy, the scent of their last round intensifying the second Ezra breached him.

“Fuck, Sebby,” Ezra groaned, one hand bracing on Sebastian’s hip. “You’re still open like you need me there.”

Sebastian whimpered, the bondless heat of him pulling Ezra deeper until he bottomed out with a muted curse. His body twitched, still clenching—greedy, pulsing, instinctively responsive even in half-sleep.

Ezra pressed in closer, chest to back, breath hot against Sebastian’s neck. He nuzzled behind his ear, breathing him in. “Gonna stay inside this time. Real deep. Keep you full, Omega.”

Sebastian moaned into the pillow, body arching, hips tilting back against him.

Ezra started to move, slow and thick, each thrust rocking Sebastian gently forward. He kept his grip firm on that slim waist, guiding him back, rolling his hips just enough to feel the clutch and pull of that warm, slick heat around him.

“You smell so fuckin’ sweet,” he muttered. “Like heat. Like mine.”

Sebastian moaned again—no words, just soft, instinctual sounds. His scent thickened, grew denser, sharper, and Ezra could feel the Omega's body start to respond all over again—slick rising, hips lifting, breath catching.

The need was back. Rolling over them like thunder.

Ezra stayed deep, rocking into him with control. “You want this,” he whispered. “Even when you sleep, you want this.”

He kissed down Sebastian’s spine, open-mouthed and possessive.

And Sebastian—awake now, flushed and trembling—whimpered, “Ezra, please—”

Ezra didn’t need more.

He pulled out slow, teasing, only to press back in deeper, pinning Sebastian to the bed with the weight of his body. The Omega gasped, one arm reaching back instinctively, trying to hold him closer.

“Alpha,” he breathed, like a confession.

Ezra’s heart kicked.

He rolled them without warning, dragging Sebastian onto his belly and back into position with a firm grip under his hips.

The angle changed. The slick noise between them was wetter, louder, messier. Ezra gritted his teeth as he began to thrust harder, faster, driving Sebastian into the mattress.

“You were made for this,” he growled. “Made to take me.”

Sebastian sobbed something into the sheets—his name, maybe, or just a prayer.

Ezra caught Sebastian’s wrists, holding them down, driving into him harder now. The room sweltered with scent: Ezra’s spice, Sebastian’s sweetness, and the raw burn of arousal humming between their bodies like a live wire.

“You feel that?” Ezra’s voice broke. “The way you milk me? Your body’s begging, Omega. Can’t stop clenching me.”

Ezra was shaking. Arms trembling, muscles locked with strain as he fought the urge to just lose himself—to give in.

But Sebastian was so soft, so slick, so tight around him, his body already coaxing Ezra deeper, welcoming every slow, rough push like it had been waiting for this. For him.

Sebastian’s back arched again, thighs trembling where they framed Ezra’s hips, his scent thick as syrup and just as sweet.

Lavender and slick and Omega heat. It made Ezra growl, low and dangerous, something primal and claiming vibrating through his chest.

He collapsed forward as his knot began to swell, the weight of him pressing Sebastian into the mattress. His chest molded to Sebastian’s back, sweat gluing them together. Ezra’s breath was hot against Sebastian’s ear.

And then—Ezra’s hands laid on either side of Sebastian’s face, who turned gently toward him, foreheads brushing. His hips were still moving, shallow now, grinding as the knot pushed insistently deeper.

“Seb,” Ezra whispered, his voice raw. “Omega—”

Sebastian whimpered, reaching blindly, fingers fumbling until they found Ezra’s left hand.

And then—he gripped it, grounding himself. His smaller fingers wrapped around Ezra’s, but it was his thumb and two others that he clung to.

Desperate. Like he needed something real to hold onto while his body was being split apart and claimed from the inside.

Ezra nearly lost it right then.

He pressed their foreheads tighter together, their breath mingling, ragged. Sebastian’s lips were parted, his cheeks flushed, eyes fluttering half-shut.

Ezra could smell it—his slick, his submission, the scent of Sebastian’s need clinging to his skin.

And Ezra’s mouth was moving again. Down to his neck.

His canines had never felt sharper. Like they were elongating just to taste the delicate spot between Sebastian’s pulse and scent gland.

He kissed there first. Softly. His lips brushing over sweat-slick skin.

Sebastian gasped, his fingers spasming tighter around Ezra’s hand.

“Ez,” he breathed, “you’re—”

The knot was fully formed now, pressing against Sebastian’s rim, threatening to lock. Ezra’s body seized up, instinct roaring.

Ezra’s voice boomed in his ear. “I shouldn’t—fuck—I can’t… Don’t let me–”

But he did anyway.

He bit.

His fangs broke skin as the knot popped in—thick and pulsing, stretching Sebastian wide until it locked behind the tightest part of his rim.

Sebastian screamed—a breathless, strangled sound, overwhelmed and shaking.

And then—his fingers around Ezra’s twitched once.

His eyes rolled back.

He passed out.

Ezra froze, still locked deep inside, his knot twitching, filling Sebastian with every slow, hot pulse. His teeth were still buried in Sebastian’s neck, the taste of blood and scent flooding his mouth like fire.

He pulled back slowly, licking over the wound—gentle now, reverent.

“Sebastian…” he whispered, chest heaving.

The Omega lay limp beneath him, still twitching faintly in aftershocks, hair damp and clinging to his forehead. His body was warm. Stuffed. Claimed.

Ezra didn’t move.

He couldn’t.

His knot kept them locked. But it was more than that.

He’d almost marked him.

He just cradled Sebastian’s face in one large hand, their fingers still loosely entwined, and listened to the soft rhythm of the Omega’s breath. Shaky. Shallow.

Alive.

Ezra buried his face in the crook of Sebastian’s neck, knot still lodged deep, and let the pheromones tell the story for him.

Not gay.

Not in love.

Just ruined by one lavender-scented Omega who wouldn’t stop making him feel like he belonged somewhere.

Like this was home.