In hindsight, he should have flipped the visor down. But he forgot, and the wind whips around them, sending Kade’s scent right into his face, the mellow, familiar bite of it. Felix breathes it deep into his lungs, remembers the times when he was pressed under this man, back arched, fingers clawing into worn sheets.
Kade’s scent goes right down to his cock, sets his nerves alight. The aching throb of his heat flares like wildfire in his limbs, burning low in his stomach. He leans in close, sniffing, growing damp, his pants stretching too tight around his hips. It’s been five years, and his body still reacts the exact same way. I can’t go into heat right now!
Kade glances down the side streets, watching for traffic. Behind him, Felix’s throat runs dry. He squirms, trying to find a more comfortable position, but it’s hard to when his alpha sits inches away, and all Felix wants is for Kade to bend him over, to mount him and knot in him. It’ll feel like things are back as they were. Felix yearns for that. He has told himself repeatedly that he doesn’t need Kade in his life.
Felix is so, so wrong.
He breathes in Kade’s scent, inching closer on the leather seat. He wants to spread his legs even though Kade’s not looking. He wants Kade to know. Wants him to stop, turn around, pin him up against a wall. Felix shouldn’t be wanting this. He should’ve taken those goddamn pills, but nothing will change what he feels for this man.
He curls his fingers into the seat, heat throbbing between his legs.
Whatever Kade wants tonight, Felix will freely yield to him.
2
Kade
Five years.
Five fucking years, and Kade has to find Felix huddled on the street, clutching a little paper bag that’s probably full of pills. It’s chilly, and of course the idiot is out by himself, walking three miles with a thin jacket on.
He won’t slam his fist on his bike. Instead, he grits his teeth and rides, the warmth of Felix’s body seeping through the scant space between them, tempting. Kade sucks his breath in slowly, tries not to think about his lavender scent, the times Felix writhed under him and hauled him in for a kiss.
Felix had looked surprised tonight, eyes wide, mouth open. Kade had smelled him four streets away and ridden up. Few omegas smell like lavender, and he’d thought... He’d been hoping for a familiar face.
Felix rides behind him now, something Kade has been hoping to see for the last five years.
His heart pounds in his chest, full of betrayal and longing. He doesn’t know what he should do. If he should do anything at all. Felix had smelled purely himself, no markings from anyone, the cuff of his jacket pulled over his scar. Have you been alone? Did anyone else mark you? Why did you return?
The questions flood Kade’s mind. He concentrates on following the fuchsia line of the GPS, trying not to think about Felix’s legs open around him, trying not to think about pulling his omega close, sliding his hand inside his pants. If Felix is anywhere near the same person as the one Kade knew, he’d enjoy that.
He pushes the thoughts out of his head, the wind skimming along his helmet, and rides through twisting roads, into a part of town with smaller, shoddier houses.
The house the GPS leads him to is tiny, windows bare, no lights on at the front door. The headlight illuminates the broken front porch. Kade pulls into his driveway, turning off the ignition. A rat scurries through the bushes. He pushes his visor up, twisting slightly in his seat. “This your new place?”
“Yeah.” Felix tenses, then slips off the bike, his paper bag crinkling in his hands. He tugs at the buckle under his chin. “I won’t be here for long, though.”
Kade climbs off his bike, turning to look him over. The moment he does, Felix’s scent slams into him like a wave, heady and musky. It winds fingers into his instincts and hauls, and in three seconds, he triggers Kade’s rut. Kade’s heart pounds. His blood surges down, and he’s rock-hard in his pants before he thinks, You’re in heat?
Felix’s throat works. He looks away, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “Do you... want a drink? I’ve got tea and water inside.”
“Yeah.” His voice comes out gravelly. Kade doesn’t even know where he’s finding his words, when he’s staring at the hard line in Felix’s pants, the shadows it casts from the weak streetlights. It makes him leak, and he needs to feel Felix against him, needs to mark him with his scent. “Didn’t think I was thirsty.”
He can’t help looking at Felix’s wrist again, but it’s hidden behind a thick wool sleeve. So he follows Felix to the front door, breathing him in, the fresh sweat in his hair, the musk of his body, the sweet, sharp tang of his arousal.
Felix’s key trembles against the keyhole. His nostrils flare, too, and Kade knows what he smells, sees the way his throat works. “I’ll get you something to drink. Just... just make yourself at home.”
The door opens, welcoming them like a refuge. Kade follows him past the stacks of sealed cardboard boxes, Felix’s footsteps loud in his ears. Felix taps the switch, and warm light bounces off his golden hair, lights up his green eyes. He looks away, his lips glistening, his throat pale. Kade knows he shouldn’t be touching this man. Felix made it clear that Kade wasn’t good enough, and that memory still stings.
So Kade follows him to the empty kitchen, his body quivering with need, his boxers damp. With Felix’s back turned, he reaches into his shirt, tugs off the chain around his neck, barely glancing at the silver ring
