“Rys,” I say, keeping my voice low. “Have you been sleeping in there?”
His face twists as he grabs a blanket to press against his chest. “Nothing felt right. Everything was too loud after they took you away. Your door was dark, and the hallway smelled like you, but you weren’t there. I didn’t want to be alone out here.”
I go to him and take the blanket from his hands. “And now?”
“It... it feels better now that you’re here. I know that’s weird and we don’t really know each other. But I wanted to and you buy me things so it felt like it and then I...”
Emrys trails off as he grabs another blanket from the floor and moves it toward the wall. I watch as he starts moving other fabrics and pillows, rebuilding the structure until it’s a world of its own. It’s still haphazard and lopsided but his scent has softened into something almost syrupy.
He turns to face me, his eyes lighting up a little when he reaches for the blanket in my hands. His fingers graze mine, Emrys pausing a moment. His mouth opens and closes several times before his face starts to redden.
“Rys, breathe. What do you need? More blankets? Pillows? Water?”
He mumbles something and then clears his throat. “Can you stay?” he asks. “I know you’d be right on the other side of the wall, but can you stay here with me?” Tears glaze over his eyes. “I’m asking too much, aren’t I? You already protected me and...”
“Shhh,” I pull Emrys into my chest, realizing how much I’ve missed out on trying to let Emrys take the lead. That and the fact that holding him against me like this, I’m never going to be able to let him go. “I would love nothing more than to stay with you, Rys.”
Emrys pulls back a little and points to my shoes before climbing into the sea of pillows and blankets. I comply before sliding in as well, the Omega immediately curling up against mychest. Every single thing I’ve been worrying about over the last week starts to fade, my purr already restarting.
Emrys exhales, his voice barely above a whisper. “This shape is better.”
Kade
I wake before Emrys with his hand spread over my chest and his face tucked against my side like he chose the exact place he wanted and never questioned whether he was allowed to keep it. The nest is still uneven from the way we rebuilt it last night, one side tucked too tight against the wall and the cream blanket half twisted around my thigh.
A cushion has spent the night trying to work beneath my ribs, but Emrys slept through most of it with his ear over my heart, and that matters more than comfort. His scent is easy thismorning, vanilla and brown sugar threaded through the cedar from my jacket where he tucked it along the side of the nest. The sour edge from last night is gone.
I stay until his breathing tells me he’s deep enough to move, then ease out from under him slowly. His fingers catch once in my shirt before I free them, and he makes a soft sound but doesn’t wake. I pull the blanket up around his shoulder, tuck it close enough that he won’t reach for me and find empty air immediately, then step into his kitchen in my boxers.
I’m not even sure when I stripped down but feeling Emrys pressed against me all night was worth it. Though, the universe has a nasty sense of humor. I’m standing in the kitchen of the Omega I was arrested for protecting, making coffee like this is an ordinary morning and not the first one I’ve had in his apartment after days of being told I was the danger. I move on autopilot, even pulling out the honey because I’ve had exactly one cup from Ardor and remembered asking how Emrys made it.
A smile spreads across my lips as I open the cupboard, remembering Emrys complaining in the building chat weeks ago that the second cupboard is the only one with hinges that don’t sound like a dying bird. Of course that’s where he keeps the things he reaches for every day: honey, tea, cocoa, cinnamon, ginger candies, and a small jar of emergency sprinkles with delicate handwriting on the label.
I set the honey beside his mug and pour my coffee as bare feet move over the floor behind me. Emrys comes in wearing soft sleep pants and the gray hoodie from last night, his lids still heavy. He stops when he sees me at the counter. His gaze drops to my bare chest, lower for a breath, then back up, and the color rising in his face makes my hand tighten around the mug.
“You found the honey,” he says, voice rough from sleep.
“You mentioned the cupboard weeks ago.”
His brows pull together. “You remembered that?”
“I remember most things about you.”
Emrys looks at me for a second, soft and uncertain in a way that tells me exactly how many times he’s convinced himself the attention meant nothing. Then he crosses the kitchen and kisses me, just as easily as he had last night.
There’s no warning. No shy reach for permission. His hand lands against my chest, and his mouth presses to mine like he’s done it every morning for years. I keep my hands off him for one breath, giving him space to decide that’s enough, but he only leans closer, his fingers curling against my skin.
I set the mug down, catch him under the thighs, and lift him onto the counter. His breath catches against my mouth as I step between his knees, one hand settling at his hip and the other sliding along his jaw. He makes a small sound when I kiss him again, and I keep the pressure careful around the split at the corner of his mouth, slow enough that he can feel every second of it.
Emrys’ hands move over my shoulders, then around the back of my neck, and he opens for me with a soft, shaken trust that goes straight under my skin. I let the kiss deepen, letting him feel the way my body wants him, the way I’m holding myself back because he matters too much to be rushed. The kitchen disappears around us for a few seconds. There’s only Emrys warmth on the counter, his scent blooming sweeter with every breath, and the ache of eight months of finally becoming something real.
When I pull back, his face is flushed, his fingers still folded together behind my neck.
“I’ve been thinking of doing that for too long,” I tell him.
“The counter?” he asks, dazed.
I brush my thumb lightly along his jaw. “Kissing you until you stopped wondering whether I wanted to.”
