When Ezra’s back ached, he was there to give him a massage.
When Ezra craved specific foods, he was there to attempt to cook it… and then order DoorDash when it inevitably caught fire.
He never, ever got annoyed when Ezra complained and, on the contrary, encouraged it by saying things like, “You are such a great being for going through the difficult process of creating our offspring. I have much admiration for you,” and “Yes, I agree those pants deserve to be fed to a shredder. Where may we obtain such a creature, and is there any other clothing of yours that you feel deserves a similar fate?”
It wasn’t that Ezra didn’t appreciate the support—he just hated himself for wanting it. He was used to taking care of himself, and the more he came to crave Titan’scomfort, the more pathetic he felt.
He also knew that with every kind gesture Titan made, he was falling for him more and more, and while he was coming to terms with the years he’d spent feeling abandoned, he didn’t know if he was ready for the implications of that. The commitment of having children with Titan was already almost more than he could handle. Whenever he thought about the fact that the two of them were soon going to be bound together for the next eighteen years—or however long it took for Darvrokian babies to reach adulthood—he got queasy in a way that he didn’t think had anything to do with his pregnancy.
That, of course, made it all the more annoying that at any given time lately, he wanted to ride Titan like a horse.
He wasn’t sure if it was hormones, or because of the work Titan was doing to improve himself for Ezra’s sake, but he was hot for him at all hours of the day and it wasdistracting.
Take that afternoon, for example.
The two of them were sitting in the conference room at the Darvrokian consulate, having just finished up with a client. Ezra, distracted as he was, had almost approved him for entry until he’d actually processed what he’d said during the interview and realized that his main reason for wanting entry to the planet was because he was interested in humanity’s susceptibility to mind control.
Titan—no doubt picking up on Ezra’s sudden panic—had handled the situation with grace, telling their client that humans were “somewhat more intelligent and cerebrally fortified than they seemed,” and encouraged him to seek entry to a planet in a neighboring solar system where mind control was “easy as the human dessert, pie.”
Now, the two of them were alone, Kyle having excused himself for lunch and the nameless Men in Black nowhere in sight, and Ezra was having naughty thoughts.
He watched Titan as he slid a thick stack of papers into a manila folder and struggled to label it with a ballpoint pen—he had a solid grasp of the English language, but spelling was proving difficult for him because “the letters and the sounds do not always match,” which he’d deemed “very stupid and bad.”
He and Al had more in common than they thought.
“Ezra,” he asked casually, pen hovering above the folder. “I am attempting to write ‘denied due to intent to enslave the human race.’ Does ‘enslave’ begin with an I or an E?”
This simple question felt monumental. The fact that Titan was willing to not only admit to not knowing something, but to also ask him for help would have been such a small gesture coming from someone else, but this wasn’t someone else. This was Titan, who only a few short months prior would have rather been buried alive than let on that there was something he didn’t know. And he’d asked the question so easily! Like it didn’t even occur to him to be a know-it-all prick.
That was some serious character growth, and Ezra was rock hard about it.
Not bothering to answer the question—and losing all sense and reason—Ezra stood from his chair, albeit not as gracefully as he would have liked. His center of gravity was a little off thanks to his baby bump.
“Ezra?” Titan asked with a puzzled frown as Ezra approached. Ezra pushed the manila folder away and took its place in front of Titan, perching on the edge of the table, which caused Titan to cock his head in confusion.
“What is occurring?” Titan asked, staring up at him with a baffled expression.
In response, Ezra took Titan’s hand and guided it to his belly. “They’re making me so hot for you, man.”
Titan’s eyes flashed orange as understanding finally washed over him.
“You’d do anything for me, wouldn’t you?” Ezra continued.
Titan nodded slowly. “Of course. Without hesitation. What do you desire… Ambassador?”
Heat crept up the back of Ezra’s neck, and his cock twitched at the mention of his title.
“What do I desire? Hmm… I think I desire for you to bend me over this desk and fuck me senseless before everyone gets back from lunch. Do you think you could do that for me?”
In response, Titan stood so quickly that his chair tumbled backward and clattered to the floor, but he paid it no mind. He was too busy cupping Ezra’s face in his hands and kissing him soundly to care about upturned furniture. The faint taste of cinnamon clung to his lips from the three sticks of gum he’d eaten earlier, before Ezra had noticed what was going on and had explained gum wasn’t meant to be swallowed.
But that was neither here nor there.
The point was that he could feel the kick as he licked into Titan’s mouth. The tingle on his tongue went straight to his cock, and he had to steady himself by gripping Titan’s shoulders.
Titan stepped between Ezra’s legs and bucked his hips, his hardening cock straining against the fly of his slacks. Ezra could relate. His own cock was aching and he was soaking wet, his body more than ready to be filled.
He slipped off the table and started unbuttoning his pants, only for Titan to push his hands aside so he could do it himself. Once Ezra’s fly was down, he dropped to his knees and tugged Ezra’s pants and underwear down to his ankles, then gripped Ezra’s cock in his fist and dragged the flat of his tongue over its tip, cleaning off the precum that had been beading there. Just that one brief touch lit Ezra’s libido on fire, and he made a strangled sound of pleasure as the heat of it burned him up from the inside.
