50 - Bruises

It would be one day.

But not this night.

Because once again, Ezra found his way into Sebastian’s room—uninvited, but expected.

The door creaked open, slow and quiet, like a breath caught in the throat. It didn’t stir Sebastian; he was already awake, curled on his side, the comforter drawn to his nose, brown eyes glinting in the pale moonlight that spilled across the far wall.

He hadn’t stepped into Ezra’s room in weeks.

Still, Sebastian never locked his door.

Ezra didn’t knock. Didn’t speak.

He didn’t need to.

The moment he crossed the threshold, the air changed. Thickened.

Ezra’s scent rolled in like a thundercloud—dense with heat and Alpha need, that familiar blend of sandalwood, smoke, and spice, now sharpened with something darker. Earthier.

Musk and testosterone and want. It hit Sebastian like a drug, dizzying, clinging to the back of his throat.

Sebastian knew instantly.

Ezra was nearing rut..

His own scent—soft lavender, sweet and cooling tried to rise, to balance, to soothe. But Ezra’s heat drowned it out, pressing into every corner of the room, into the very fabric of the sheets, until Sebastian could barely think through it.

His pulse jumped, his body humming as instinct pushed to the surface.

He lay still, silent, but arched—subtle, unconscious. His body already reacting, hips tilting back, thighs parting just a little more beneath the blanket.

Clothes rustled. The quiet, hurried sound of cotton dragged from skin. The air grew heavier with the heady scent of sweat and rut—hot and male and overwhelming. Sebastian’s stomach fluttered.

Then the bed dipped.

Ezra’s weight behind him, thick heat pressing along his back—naked, hard, dangerous. His chest rose and fell too fast. His skin burned.

A large, rough hand spread across Sebastian’s waist, firm and certain, fingers digging in just a little deeper than usual—claiming. Sebastian inhaled sharply, his breath shaky.

“You’re quiet,” Ezra rasped, mouth hovering over Sebastian’s ear. His voice was deeper than usual—wrecked, raw, thick with need and barely leashed control. It dragged over Sebastian like gravel.

“I figured you’d want to pretend I’m not real,” Sebastian said flatly, though his body betrayed him—his back arched into the touch, thighs edging wider.

He wanted it.

God, he wanted it, even while his mind screamed that he shouldn’t.

Ezra didn’t answer. Just growled.

Low. Primal. It vibrated against Sebastian’s spine.

Then—his teeth. Ezra’s mouth dragged along the side of Sebastian’s neck, hot and open. The first nip was soft. Then another—sharper.

Fangs grazing just under the ear. Again and again, teeth and beard, scent and tongue, marking him with wet heat and friction.

Sebastian flinched. “Ugh, your beard again,” he hissed, voice muffled against the pillow. “You need to shave.”

His hand was already inside Sebastian’s sleep shorts, jerking them halfway down his thighs in one harsh tug.

Another palm ghosted under the hem of his shirt—possessive, trembling with restraint, his claws barely dulled as they scraped gently against ribcage.

“You’re making a lot of demands tonight,” Ezra muttered, voice dropping to something almost dangerous.

“I’ll keep going,” Sebastian breathed, trembling. “Mia’s doctor called. She’s prescribing another set of progesterone, to stabilize her symptoms. I need you to go pick up the medication tomorrow.”

Ezra didn’t answer. His mouth latched to the back of Sebastian’s neck, scenting and saturating, his rut making him instinctively try to suppress the lavender with spice and heat.

He dragged his nose across Sebastian’s skin, growling, huffing, hips rocking forward, cock stiff and heavy between them.

Sebastian kept talking, barely holding on. “The twins need to make two paper mâché cups and plates each. It’s going to be a mess.”

Ezra groaned—guttural, feral—and pressed flush against him, grinding slow and hard. One hand shoved Sebastian’s thigh forward to part him wide, and Ezra’s cock slid slick between his cheeks, dragging, teasing.

“And we’re out of cereal,” Sebastian gasped, “and bananas. And cheese.”

Ezra bared his teeth, scent flaring in frustration. “Omega—” he growled, voice splitting with heat.

“Don’t Omega me with your dick on my ass,” Sebastian snapped just as Ezra pushed in, slow and punishing, inch by inch, thick and achingly full.

Sebastian’s back bowed, a cry torn from his throat. Ezra bit back a shout and buried his face in Sebastian’s shoulder, his body trembling, heat rolling off him in waves.

“Seb—fuck.”

“Don’t Seb me either,” Sebastian spat, panting, his ass instinctively pushing back. But his walls clenched tight, greedy, pulling Ezra deeper.

Ezra made a sound halfway between a growl and a whimper. He snapped his hips forward once, hard enough to shove the bed frame against the wall.

Then he flipped Sebastian onto his stomach, fast, brutal, one hand on his hip, the other digging claws into the mattress for control. His body pinned Sebastian, heavy and overpowering. He pressed his entire chest along Sebastian’s back, rut-slick sweat smearing across skin.

“You were saying?” Ezra hissed, voice frayed.

“You’re a jerk,” Sebastian grit out, cheek to the pillow, his hips canting up to meet every brutal thrust. His thighs trembled.

Ezra snarled. “I’m a jerk?”

“You left your family to play doctor with your manipulative ex.”

Ezra didn’t stop thrusting. But his hand slid to Sebastian’s throat, holding—not squeezing, just grounding him. Dominating. “I didn’t leave you,” he growled. “I was trying to keep her from calling CPS. From tearing this apart.”

Sebastian’s breath hitched, but he didn’t stop. “You were protecting her.”

“I was protecting you,” Ezra bit out, voice fraying. “The pups. My Omega.”

That—that—made Sebastian moan, helpless.

He clenched down hard.

Ezra snapped.

His claws tore deeper into the mattress, tendons straining in his forearm—and Sebastian, overwhelmed, reached blindly for that anchor. His fingers found Ezra’s—tight, clawed, half-buried in the sheets and curled around them, threading between the knuckles.

Ezra’s hand flinched, then tightened in return. His claws dulled just enough not to cut. But the grip—God, the grip was grounding.

“Fuck,” Ezra groaned in reverence, voice wrecked, breath dragging ragged over Sebastian’s shoulder. “Your pussy is so good.”

Sebastian whimpered, his other hand twisting into the sheets. “Y-You only say that when you’re knotted inside me like a dog.”

Ezra chuckled against his neck, the sound feral and dark. “Because it’s true. You squeeze me like you don’t want to let go.”

“Maybe I don’t,” Sebastian panted, turning his head just slightly, cheek brushing Ezra’s. “Maybe I like feeling you this deep. Ruining me like this.”

Ezra made a low, strangled sound in response and bit down—sweat-slick skin, teeth dragging, tongue laving. Another thrust. Another fwop. The bed slammed against the wall in rhythm.

Sebastian’s fingers clutched tighter around his. “Ez—fuck—you’re not even pretending to be gentle.”

“Can’t,” Ezra rasped, panting into his shoulder. “You’re too sweet. Too soft. You make me—make me lose it.”

“Good,” Sebastian gasped. “Then lose it. Fucking lose it on me.”

Their joined hands trembled.

“Ezra,” Sebastian moaned, the name slipping out raw, reverent. “Don’t let go.”

“Not a fucking chance,” Ezra growled, voice frayed. “I’ve got you, Omega. I’ve fucking got you.”

He cursed and dragged Sebastian up by the hips, locking an arm around his waist. His knot began to swell, thick and insistent, stretching Sebastian who tightened around him.

“Seb—shit—fuck—you’re doing this on purpose,” he gasped, hips stuttering.

Sebastian gave him a wicked, breathless laugh and Ezra muttered. “You’re going to bruise me.”

The Omega didn’t hesitate. “Good. I want to.”

His teeth sank into the crook of Sebastian’s shoulder—not breaking skin, but pressing hard enough to mark. To claim. His scent spilled over Sebastian, Alpha dominance in full flood, mixed with sweat and sex and lavender.

“Gonna fill you up,” Ezra panted. “Gonna knot you so full, you won’t even remember anything.”

Sebastian whimpered, whole body shuddering. “You’re still a jerk.”

Ezra’s rhythm stuttered—then he slammed in deep, hard—and locked.

His knot caught, stretched, buried fully, and Ezra came with a broken moan, spilling deep inside, his hips jerking in helpless little thrusts as the knot locked them tight. He collapsed over Sebastian, both of them shaking.

The room was thick with heat, musk, and the sound of the ceiling fan spinning lazily above.

Sebastian’s arms were still pinned beneath him. His scent now muddied with Ezra’s—owned, saturated. His body flushed and trembling, claimed in every way but word.

Ezra kissed the side of his neck, beard rasping gently against damp skin. “Yeah. I’m a jerk.”

Sebastian exhaled, exhausted. His eyes fluttered shut.

Not forgiven. But not alone.

Not tonight.