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Or two.
Ian's pheromones took over—chamomile and spicy bergamot—forcing every nerve in Elias' strung out mind to yield. The racing of his thoughts ceased and his muscles relaxed, leaving a tense soreness behind from how much he'd been clenching them. His sigh of relief was automatic, but choosing to take another deep breath and rest his head on Ian's massive shoulder was his own decision.
"Shhh," his friend cooed, rocking him as he stared down through thick lashes, high cheekbones cast in shadow but always dimpled and inviting. "You don't have to talk about it right now, okay? Just breathe. I know how much you hate crying because once you start—"
"—I never stop," Elias replied, chuckling despite himself.
"That's right," Ian replied, voice soothing. "You have this look on your face when you cry. It's so ugly that I can't stand not to cup your cheeks and smooth it out."
"Hey!" Elias yelped, scowling as he whirled, waterlogged fingers curling in the front of his friend's soaked shirt. It stretched taut across his wide chest, hugging the ridges and curves of unforgiving pectorals and abs. "Your sweetness doesn't give you a pass to mock me."
Elias dragged his eyes upward as he said so, gulping when he found the alpha's unwavering attention on him, most likely tracking each flick of his gaze to note which muscles interested him the most.
Embarrassing.
Ian brought two calloused fingers up to brush them gently down Elias' face, worried expression smoothing into a soft grin that sent Elias' stomach into a round of Olympic-worthy flips.
"Sure it does."
Elias didn't care that he was butt naked or that his dick was half-hard; he hugged his friend tightly around the middle, barely able to lock his fingers together. Ian squeezed tighter, sighing and dropping his chin to the top of Elias' damp curls. They stayed like that for a long while, silent and holding one another while Ian pumped his pheromones into the air.
They practically forced Elias to calm down, but he was grateful for it. He was high strung on a good day and a downright terror when overwhelmed. No one wanted to be around him when that happened. Well, no one but Ian.
Ian hadn't even insisted on knowing where the other alpha pheromones came from or what happened. Only pleaded he take deep breaths to feel better. Somehow, that made keeping it from him harder, and while Elias could stand to put up a front with the rest of the world, he didn't think himself capable of it right now.
"Why aren't you mad at me?" he whispered into Ian's chest, burrowing closer and refusing to meet the alpha's gaze any longer.
"Who you sleep with isn't my business until it is. I only want to protect you, and if some dumbass did something to you, I would've been out of here faster than the last time."
Elias chuckled, shaking his head. "I appreciate that, but you deserve to be angry."
"How do you figure?"
"I told you I wasn't having sex with alphas anymore."
"Yes, but that was a long time ago."
"True, but—"
"And you're entitled to changing your mind."
"Yeah, but—"
"And no one, not even an alpha who pines for love on a level his stubborn best friend will never know, deserves to make choices on your behalf."
The words left Ian's mouth true as an arrow, but coated in a thin, thin layer of bitterness. Elias wouldn't have been able to tell if they hadn't grown up together. The poison pierced his heart, flooding him with agonizing pain and constricting his chest.
Okay, so he's not angry, he... he's upset?
Why does that feel worse?
Elias opened and closed his mouth for a while, the grip he had on Ian's shirt loosening. On cue, Ian separated them, gently guiding Elias back to lean against the wall. He didn't resist, guilty eyes trailing the alpha until it became clear what he was going to do. Wetting the loofah, squirting on body wash, stepping forward…
"No. You don't get to wash me after saying that! I don't want you to because…"
He trailed off, wrapping both arms around his torso with a shiver despite the warmth. Ian exhaled, tilting his head to the left with a soft, ever-teasing smile. One hand held up the blue loofah, dripping in bubbles, while the other rested on his wide hip, portraying an attitude. As if he'd be washing Elias' slicked up, tired body despite the outcome of this conversation. Elias bit down on the inside of his bottom lip, tearing into the skin until he tasted blood.
How was Ian so fine with everything—so unbothered? Doesn't he want to slam me against the wall and claim me as his? Isn't that what his alpha instincts were roaring at him to do? Didn't he want me like that?
