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He wanted it. God, he’d never wanted anything more.
A second later, Zee was coming, body straining with it. Ishir wrapped around Zee, scared of being even an inch apart.
Zee slumped over him, their skin slick with sweat. Their gasps were loud in the room, hot and wet and good.
Zee shifted to the side slightly, unlatching from Ishir’s neck. He hadn’t pierced skin. Hadn’t marked him.
Ishir tried to convince himself that it was a good thing.
Zee placed a hand on Ishir’s cheek, turning his head so they could kiss. The worry that had begun to creep in dissipated.
Zee wasn’t going to run away. Not yet, anyway.
They got up just long enough to clean up the worst of the mess, but they fell into the same bed after, exhausted.
Ishir didn’t want to think. Zee fit against him perfectly, a line of warmth behind him.
Right then, it was all that mattered.
CHAPTER NINE
Ishir woke up locked in Zee’s arms. Everything was warm, the foreign hotel bed made familiar by the scent of Zee everywhere.
He closed his eyes. His body ached, and so did his soul. He felt as if he’d run an emotional marathon, left depleted and hungover with exhaustion.
“Hey,” Zee murmured from behind him. It was soft. Tentative. His large hands were splayed on Ishir’s hip, his stomach.
Ishir wanted to stay there forever, and it hurt to know that would never be possible. “Hey.”
They were silent for a while. Ishir tried to recapture some of the acceptance he’d felt the previous night—the ability to appreciate the simple act ofhavingwithout it being tarred bykeeping.
They lay there until Ishir’s phone went off, signalling they had to get up for team breakfast. Ishir leaned over to the bedside table and turned it off. Zee had plugged in both their phones the previous night, each on their own nightstand like this was routine.
Ishir tried to untangle himself, but Zee didn’t let him get far, rolling him onto his back.
“You okay?” Zee asked, brown eyes piercing.
“Yeah. I’m okay.”
Zee nodded, still searching his face.
“You?”
“Yeah. Just. I meant to talk about it before, you know? About, like…helping you out myself instead of choosing some random Alpha.” He said the last words derisively.No one but me is good enough for you, they implied.
Ishir wanted to laugh—that sentiment hit closer to home than Ishir wanted to admit. “I mean, I didn’t ask what was going to happen, either. Guess I was scared to.”
Zee winced. “Right. I, uh…that’s probably my bad.”
Ishir swallowed. “Why don’t we talk about it?” The question was soft, almost inaudible.
Zee’s gaze flickered away. “Do you want to stop?”
Ishir had to take a few beats to process that. “What does that have to do with talking about it?” He could see the struggle on Zee’s face. The fear.
“I just…can’t we just keep doing this? Does it have to have a name?” As iftalking about itanddefining itwere the exact same thing.
Maybe if Ishir were older and more mature. If he hadn’t loved Zee desperately for so long. If he wasn’t so used to hiding pieces of himself. Maybe then, he’d have had the capacity to say, ‘No, let’s talk about it. I can’t live like this.’
