My Alpha
Braze can’t let that happen.
He needs to pretend, forget, and cover this ache that begs to be banished and this hole in his chest that cries to be filled. They cannot do either; they don’t want to be even. He shares the feelings.
Braze is such a liar.
It starts with something simple, something that he’s always done. Brandon has sex. The boy is eager and drunk, and oh, those eyes, and is that shaggy black hair? He hadn’t noticed.
It’s the same as ever: hot hands, wet mouths, and grinding bodies, but something is... Different. His body aches for something different; it cries out to two other souls, and he finds himself horrified by the fact that he doesn’t seem to be getting very hard.
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