“No, I don’t.”
“—and we should stop seeing each...” Wyatt trailed off, meeting his eyes.
“You wanna keep seeing me?” Raph asked, holding his breath. He shouldn’t. But they were stepbrothers, and maybe they should patch the relationship they used to have. Maybe he was just making excuses, because he wanted to hold Wyatt again. “I’m not going to abandon you or the baby.”
Wyatt relaxed then, his smile warm and soft. “Promise?”
“Yeah. I promise.”
All he’d intended was to squeeze Wyatt’s shoulder. Or touch his hair. But as Raph rounded the desk, his gut said Yes. And he couldn’t help running the backs of his fingers along Wyatt’s jaw, his knuckles catching on newly-shaved skin. Wyatt tipped his cheek into Raph’s touch.
“You’re not...” You’re not put off by this? Raph’s voice died in his throat when Wyatt purred, nuzzling the back of his hand. “Wy—”
“Shh.” Wyatt’s eyes fluttered shut, the fluorescent light glinting on his lashes.
“Gods, we can’t do this.” Raph drew his hand back, his heart pounding too hard. Touching Wyatt felt good. Felt right. And Wyatt’s daughter was out there; she knew who Raph was. “We’re brothers, Wy. You have a family.”
“I don’t have an alpha,” Wyatt murmured, so quietly that Raph thought he might’ve heard wrong. “I haven’t found one who fits just right.”
And now Raph couldn’t breathe, too. “You’re doing this with me.”
“Because you feel right.”
Raph closed his eyes, his breath staggering. This couldn’t be happening, Wyatt wanting him. Wyatt needing an alpha. “Fuck. I’ll just—Just let me lock the door.”
They shouldn’t be locked up in a room together.
“Fine,” Wyatt breathed. When he opened his eyes, his irises were a dark green-brown, his pupils dilated.
Raph strode the three steps to the door, locked it, and returned to his side, glancing at the test kit.
Two blue lines.
“What does that mean?” he asked, nodding at the stick, even if he already knew.
Wyatt’s breath shuddered out of him. “I’m pregnant.”
Raph swallowed hard. “And that—that means...”
Wyatt stood in a smooth motion, the chair rolling away, his eyes clouded. “It means I need comforting,” he whispered, stepping closer to Raph. The magnolia of his scent welled up around them, laced with honey and musk, and Raph was moving before he could think, his arms sliding around Wyatt, his lips grazing Wyatt’s cheek.
“Gods, this is wrong,” he whispered, even as Wyatt leaned into him, his body slender, his hair smelling like broth and sweat and omega.
“We’ll talk about right and wrong later,” Wyatt said, his thin fingers threading into Raph’s hair, pulling him forward. “Kiss me.”
It should feel wrong, and it should feel like the gates of hell were opening, swallowing him down. Instead, Wyatt’s lips parted for him, damp and soft. Raph groaned, sealing their mouths together, swallowing Wyatt’s moan. He backed them up against a wall, smoothing his hand down Wyatt’s spine, holding him close. Wyatt arched against him, his tongue sliding hot against Raph’s.
In his arms, Wyatt didn’t feel like a stepbrother. He felt like an omega, like someone who desired Raph, who needed him. Blood pooled between Raph’s legs; his pants grew tight. And Wyatt dragged him closer, his breath heavy on Raph’s cheek, his hand easing past the waistband of Raph’s pants.
“Fuck,” Raph hissed, rutting into his soft, warm palm. This was wrong. And he wanted to pin Wyatt up against the wall, grind into his hips, make their cocks touch. Wyatt slipped into his mouth. Raph jerked his head away, leaving Wyatt panting, his lips kiss-swollen. “Damn it, Wy. We’re fucking stepbrothers!”
Wyatt panted damply, his own cock a hard line against Raph’s thigh. His lips quirked in a smile. “We’re fucking, aren’t we?”
Raph’s cock throbbed. It was where they were headed, if they didn’t stop this right now. Wyatt’s fingers swirled around his tip, sending a jolt of pleasure down his nerves. Raph’s breath rushed out of his lungs. He pressed his forehead against Wyatt’s shoulder, nuzzling where Wyatt’s shoulder met his neck, and he smelled most strongly of magnolia.
A silvery scar lay right over Wyatt’s scent gland, thin and slightly curved—a bite mark. The sight of it made Raph’s instincts snarl.
“Whose mark is that?” he growled, baring his teeth. He shouldn’t be asking; Wyatt wasn’t his omega.
Wyatt glanced away. “Max left it.”
How dare that slimeball bond with Wyatt, and then throw him out? After the things he’d done to Wy... Raph’s fingers tightened on Wyatt’s hip. “He doesn’t fucking deserve you.”
“It’s not like I can change it,” Wyatt said, his eyes darkening with regret. “I’ve already left him.”
Raph pressed his nose to Wyatt’s neck, filling his lungs with magnolia. It was a scent from an age ago, from the years he’d watched Wyatt learn how to wink and smile, playing at the piano, his fingers dancing across the keys. The sweet, mellow scent shouldn’t ignite his body the way it did. “I won’t hurt you.”
“I know,” Wyatt murmured, slipping his hand out of Raph’s pants, stroking his side. “You tried protecting me from Grandma.”
“Didn’t work very well, did it?” Raph kissed his jaw, his cheek, his earlobe. This felt right, too.
“I’m sorry I never spoke to you,” Wyatt said. “I just... I couldn’t. I didn’t want you to get involved with me, after I tried to seduce you. I’m sorry.”
“You shouldn’t be.” Raph pressed a kiss to his lips. “I care for you, you know. I was so fucking pissed when I found out about Max.”
Wyatt cracked a smile, a faint blush rising on his cheeks. “I’m sorry.”
“Stop saying sorry.”
Wyatt sighed. “We’re stepbrothers, Raph. I’m surprised you’re even here. That you’re this close and... well, I’m pregnant.”
Raph’s stomach dropped. Yeah, there was that, too. They should’ve used a condom. Raph shouldn’t have stayed inside him until he couldn’t anymore. “Sorry,” he said.
“I won’t regret it. Not with you,” Wyatt whispered. He slid his palm against his belly, and Raph covered Wyatt’s small hand with his own. In Wy’s abdomen somewhere, there was a merging of their DNA, a life they had made together.
If
