47 - In The Quiet

The house was quiet when Ezra returned.

His boots thudded dully on the hardwood as he toed them off in the foyer, hoodie damp with cold, shoulders hunched like he was trying to fold himself smaller.

The hallway stretched before him, dim and long, each floorboard groaning like a held breath.

Clara had gone to bed hours ago. The twins were no doubt tangled in blankets, sugared and dreaming. And Sebastian—Sebastian hadn’t texted. Not once. Ezra’s phone had stayed a cold, silent weight in his pocket all night.

The guilt sat inside him like rot. Thick. Spreading. He hadn’t meant to let it get this bad, but he hadn’t known how to stop it. How to name the mess he’d made. The mess he was.

Then he smelled it.

Faint. Familiar. Lavender, curling down the hall like a thread meant to pull him in. His mouth went dry. His gut tightened.

A soft light glowed beneath Sebastian’s bedroom door.

Ezra stood there, staring. That scent—his scent—was stronger now. Sleep-warm, stirred. Stirring. It made something inside Ezra shift, deep and primal. His jaw clenched. His hands curled. His body felt too tight for his skin.

Then, slowly, he knocked once.

No answer.

He opened it anyway.

Sebastian was curled on the far side of the bed, small and still beneath a knitted blanket, the lamp beside him casting golden light across rumpled sheets.

A book lay facedown on his stomach. His curls were crushed against the pillow, wild. His eyes were closed, but he didn’t look asleep. He looked like someone who’d tried to wait. And hadn’t known how long to.

Ezra stepped in, scent instinct guiding him more than thought. The door clicked shut behind him, the house sealing them in.

The silence pulsed around him, broken only by the distant whir of the heater and the soft, fragile sound of Sebastian breathing.

He moved to the bed.

The mattress dipped under his weight. Then, slowly, Ezra pressed his chest to Sebastian’s back, skin to skin. No barriers. His warmth sank into Seb instantly, and Seb sucked in a breath that trembled all the way through him.

Ezra’s arm came next—sliding low around Seb’s waist, just above the swell of his hipbone. Not loose. Not tentative. Possessive. Claiming. Instinctual.

Sebastian didn’t move. Couldn’t. His body locked down around the contact, but his scent spiked sharp with emotion. Lavender and something sweeter now—warmer, headier. Aroused.

Ezra’s pupils blew wide. His nose dipped lower, catching at the nape of Seb’s neck where the scent concentrated.

He breathed deep, unashamed, and it hit him like heat. Omega. It whispered across every nerve. His Alpha instincts surged, jaw aching with restraint, breath shallow.

“You smell like outside,” Sebastian whispered, voice brittle and raw.

Ezra moved closer, his lips brushing the curve of Seb’s ear, barely grazing. “You smell like lavender,” he answered, low and reverent.

Sebastian shivered, the fine hairs at the back of his neck rising. “I always do.”

“I know,” Ezra murmured—and the words came with another inhale, deeper now, like he couldn’t get enough.

Seb turned his head slightly, just enough to meet his eyes. The lamp behind them kissed the high plane of Seb’s cheek, cast his lashes in soft gold.

He looked flushed. Glowing. Ezra didn’t even hesitate—he leaned in and pressed a kiss to the corner of Sebastian’s mouth. Soft. Scent-hazed. It tasted like longing.

Sebastian’s voice cracked. “Why’d you come here?”

Ezra’s eyes swept his face, down to the soft, parted bow of his lips, then lower—to the hem of his shirt pushed up, revealing the pale skin of his stomach, the faint trail of hair leading beneath.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Ezra said. “Didn’t want to lie there wondering if you thought I didn’t care.”

Seb swallowed, throat moving under Ezra’s gaze.

Ezra cupped his cheek, his palm tingling where their scents met, and kissed him again—deeper this time.

Pheromones flooded the space between them. Their bond, however unnamed, humming with friction and need. Ezra’s tongue slid along Seb’s lower lip, coaxing it open.

Seb kissed back with sudden fire. His fingers tangled in Ezra’s hair, dragging him closer, scent blooming around them like heat off coals. Ezra’s Alpha scent—sandalwood and spice, dark and grounding—curled around them, answering Sebastian’s sweetness.

He rolled Seb onto his back, bracing one hand beside his head. The other slid beneath his shirt, brushing his waist—his ribs—feeling the tremble there. Seb arched into the touch, breath shaky, thighs spreading instinctively to cradle Ezra closer.

“I hate that you do this,” Sebastian breathed, eyes wet, “like it means something—and then act like it doesn’t.”

Ezra didn’t flinch. He bent lower, kissed the jump of Seb’s throat, the spot just beneath his jaw. Seb’s scent spiked again. Wet. Wanting. Omega. It made Ezra dizzy.

“I feel it,” he whispered. “Every time I’m near you, I feel it.”

Seb’s chest rose and fell fast. Ezra kissed his way down, reverent and slow. His shirt was peeled off, baring soft skin Ezra devoured with his eyes. He paused at the waistband of Seb’s shorts, voice low:

“Tell me no if you want to stop.”

Seb’s response was a breath. A lift of his hips. “I was sure. The first time. Even when you left me.”

Ezra winced, shame flaring, but he didn’t defend himself. He just kissed lower, reverent now—pressing his mouth to the dip of Seb’s stomach, to his hipbone, to the inside of his thigh.

Seb gasped, one hand flying to cover his mouth, the other twisting in the sheets.

Ezra caught his thigh in a firm grip. “Don’t hide from me.”

Seb didn’t. His hand trembled as it slid into Ezra’s hair, fingertips tingling where skin met scent.

Ezra lowered his mouth, taking Seb inch by inch, tongue working in deep, wet strokes that made the Omega writhe and moan—raw, needy sounds echoing in the room.

“Let me hear you,” Ezra said, dragging Seb’s hand away from his mouth.

Seb’s cries were helpless now. Open. Ezra’s grip on his hips tightened, guiding every thrust of his mouth, every roll of his tongue.

Their scents swirled, thick and fevered. Ezra’s nose pressed to the base of Seb’s stomach, inhaling shamelessly between licks, moaning like he was high on it.

When he finally pulled away, lips slick and flushed, he kissed his way up Seb’s trembling body. Their mouths met again—this time wild. Desperate. Ezra’s hands shook as he reached for the lube in the drawer.

Seb nodded fast, curls damp against his forehead. “So bad it hurts.”

Ezra pressed their foreheads together as he slicked his fingers, the scent of lavender and sandalwood almost too much.

His fingers were careful—probing, stretching, learning every clench of muscle, every gasp and moan. Seb’s body opened for him, heat dripping, scent calling louder.

When Ezra pushed in, slow and deep, the scent hit like a punch. Seb gasped, his body arching beneath Ezra’s.

“You okay?” Ezra rasped, voice barely human.

“More than.”

Ezra moved, slow at first. Deep. Rhythmic. Seb met him thrust for thrust, legs wrapped around Ezra’s waist, panting into his mouth.

“You feel… fuck,” Ezra moaned, “you feel like you were made for me.”

Seb sobbed, overwhelmed, nails raking lightly down Ezra’s back. “I was.”

Their bodies rocked, soaked in sweat and pheromones, scent drunk.

When Sebastian climaxed, it was with a cry that tore from his throat—Omega in heat, seizing around his Alpha. Ezra followed, groaning deep, spilling inside him, marking him from the inside out.

They collapsed together, panting. Ezra kissed the sweat-damp curls at Seb’s temple, nose buried in his scent, unable to let go.

He pulled out gently. Cleaned them both. Tucked Seb against him under the blankets.

Seb curled into him without a word, cheek to Ezra’s chest, nose pressed to his throat.

Ezra kissed his curls again. Held him tight. The scent of lavender and sweat and sex clung to their skin.

He didn’t know what the morning would bring.

But he knew he couldn’t wake up without this scent in his lungs, or this body pressed into his.