His knees give out. He catches himself on the arm of my couch, bracing his weight as he drops lower than me. He looks up, and there’s zero swagger left. Just a man running on fumes.
"I don't know how to do this right," he chokes out. "I called you. I thought that was enough, and it wasn't. I grew up watching my dad fail at this, and I swore I'd be different, but I'm not. I'm going to fuck it up again." He swallows hard. "But I want you there. In the hospital. Next to my mom. I want you in all of it, and I'm sorry it took me this long to figure out how to say it."
The air leaves my lungs. The sharp, jagged anger I’ve been holding onto for hours just... dissolves. I try to reach for a sarcastic comeback, but my brain is empty. He said it. He gave me the exact words I demanded, stripped of all his usual bullshit, kneeling against my couch like he’s got nothing left to lose.
"I love you too, you absolute idiot," I sob, a wet, humiliating laugh tearing out of my throat. It’s the truest thing I’ve ever said.
I wipe my face again, trying to pull myself together. "That doesn't mean you're forgiven yet."
I need him to know I'm not a total pushover. My hand shoots out, grabbing the front of his hoodie, and I yank him up.
Knox crashes into me, his mouth crushing over mine. He tastes like salt and hospital coffee and pure desperation. Underneath the bleach, his cedar scent finally flares, warm and real, and my omega lets out a low, satisfied hum. I tangle my fingers in his greasy hair, kissing him back just as hard. He wraps his arms around me, his grip bruising, holding on like I’m going to evaporate.
We stumble backward. He pushes me toward the bedroom, our mouths still locked together. We cross the threshold, hitting the edge of the mattress. We fall into the tangled mess of sheets I couldn’t bring myself to wash.
His weight settles over me, heavy and grounding. The room smells like us. I wrap my legs around his hips, pulling him flush against me. The mate bond settles into a steady, thrumming heat in my veins.
Knox rests his forehead against mine, both of us panting. He slides his hand under my shirt, his palm warm against my ribs. I leave my fingers tangled in his curls.
He came back. He said it. And as I look up into his dark, exhausted eyes, I finally let myself believe he's staying.
Knox
Benji pulls back from the kiss, rolls us, and sits up, straddling my hips. The transformation happens fast—the raw, tear-streaked omega from two minutes ago vanishes, replaced by something sharper. Something I know. He flattens a hand against my chest and shoves me down into the mattress.
"You think because you dropped the L-word I'm going to be gentle with you?" His voice is rough from shouting, but the mean edge is perfect. "You smell like a hospital. You look like you haven't slept in a week. I'm going to ride you until you forget your own name, and you're going to thank me for it."
I grin. It’s the first real one I’ve managed since yesterday morning. Having Benji Rowe sit on my dick with dried tears on his cheeks and murder in his eyes is the best fucking thing to happen to me all week. This is him staying. This is his brat energy coming back online. We're going to be okay.
He grabs the hem of my shirt and yanks it over my head. He wrinkles his nose. "Disgusting. You smell like disinfectant and sad coffee."
"Sorry I didn't stop to shower on my way to your emotional ultimatum."
"Don't be cute. You've lost cute privileges." He pins my wrists to the mattress, leaning over me. His nose ring catches the dim light. "You don't get to touch yet. You went radio silent for six hours. Your hands stay where I put them."
My cock is rock hard. Benji knows it; he’s grinding down just enough to let me feel his heat through our jeans. The weight of him, the pressure on my wrists, the bossy tone—fuck, it does more for me than any of my old cocky bullshit ever did. I used to think I was the one in control in bed. Looking up at him now, I realize I was just putting on a show. This is real control: a bratty omega with a grudge, using my body like a throne.
He strips us with impatient, bossy efficiency. His shirt goes over his head, jeans kicked off the side of the bed, then mine. He works my belt and zipper like he’s clearing a workspace. The claiming bite sits right on the curve of his neck. Looking at it from this angle—pinned on my back while he undresses us—it looks different. It’s mine. Something I put there that he chose to keep.
Benji sinks onto my cock in one smooth, wet stroke. My back arches right off the mattress.
He takes me all the way to the base. His body is slick and hot, and the fit of him around me just feels like coming home. His hand drops flat on my chest, shoving me back down.
"Stay," he commands. It’s the same word he used the night I caught him looking at my sketchbook, but tonight there’s a wicked grin behind it.
He rides me hard. The pace is entirely selfish—fast, deep, his head tipped back. He braces one hand on my chest and grips the headboard with the other. I watch his face. He's taking exactly what he wants, his mouth falling open when my cock hits hisprostate, his throat working to swallow a moan. I try to thrust up to meet him, but his hand slams me back down.
"I said stay."
He’d let go of my wrists at some point, so I wrap my hands around his thighs. His skin is warm and slick with sweat. He’s so wet I can hear it—obscene, sloppy sounds filling the quiet room. The claiming mark moves with every thrust. I don't even need to bite him again. Just watching him ride me with my teeth marks on his skin is enough.
His cock bounces against his stomach with the rhythm. I reach for it, and he swats my hand away.
"I said you don't get to touch. When I want your hand on my dick, I'll put it there."
I groan, gripping his thighs tighter, letting him take whatever the fuck he wants. And then my knot starts to swell.
It builds at the base, thickening fast. The stretch changes. Benji feels it too. His eyes snap down to mine, and a slow, evil grin spreads across his face. He rises up until only the head of my cock is inside him, letting my swelling knot bump right against his slick rim without slipping in.
