“Your mother doesn’t like me anymore,” Haydn said with a sigh.
“She’s always been possessive of us all,” Royce said, without lifting his face from Haydn’s neck. “She just doesn’t like sharing my attention with you.”
Haydn laughed a little. “Maybe. She seemed to like me perfectly fine when I met her—when we didn’t get along.”
Royce hummed. “You were probably easier for her to like when you were just the other party in a political match. Now you’re a real person who’s changed the dynamics of our family.”
Haydn made a noncommittal sound, his eyes slipping shut again. It felt so good, to sit there, crowded against the back of the couch by Royce’s bulk, Royce’s face in his throat, and his heady scent in his nostrils. He knew it wasn’t normal to enjoy being scent-marked by another alpha. He knew it. It wasn’t supposed to feel good.
But it did.
“She probably didn’t expect this,” Haydn said with a small laugh. “Hell, I didn’t expect this, either.”
“You and me both.” There was a great deal of bewilderment in Royce’s voice. Bewilderment and frustration. “I’ve always rolled my eyes at the alphas who couldn’t live without marking their territory, but now I’m one of them.”
Haydn threaded his fingers through Royce’s hair, enjoying how nice it felt, thick and soft. It didn’t feel coarse despite being short. “I don’t mind.”
“I do,” Royce growled, sucking on Haydn’s scent gland again, a sigh of frustration escaping him. “This isn’t normal for me, Haydn. This isn’t me. Your cousin jokes that you stink like I pissed all over you, but fuck, sometimes I feel like I would piss all over you if you allowed me.” He laughed, a note of bitterness entering his voice. “I can’t believe myself, but I actually want it.”
“I’m not into watersports I’m afraid,” Haydn said with a forced laugh, a strange feeling twisting his stomach into tight knots. The mere idea of being dirtied up and debased like that by another alpha… it was wrong. So very wrong.
“Me neither,” Royce said. “I’ve always thought it’s gross. But fuck, something about you covered in my bodily fluids… it’s…” He trailed off, exhaling shakily. “This is fucked-up.”
Haydn couldn’t stop the shudder that went through him as he thought of the occasion he had been covered in Royce’s bodily fluids. They hadn’t spoken about it since the other morning, so he’d figured it was just a rut thing that wouldn’t happen again, but now Royce was almost making it sound like…
“You mean it arouses you,” Haydn stated in his most neutral voice.
For a moment, there was silence, and Haydn thought Royce would deny it.
But he didn’t.
“That too,” Royce said gruffly, not lifting his face from Haydn’s throat.
Haydn stared at the opposite wall. “It probably makes sense,” he said, haltingly. “It’s still a full moon, or close enough to it. It’s probably still affecting you.”
Royce exhaled. “I didn’t think of it. Maybe my rut isn’t as over as I thought.”
Haydn’s heart was beating so fast he could almost hear it. He swallowed. “You can do it again if you want. Come on me, I mean. I don’t mind.”
Right, said a sarcastic voice at the back of his mind. You don’t mind it so much that it’s all you’ve been thinking about for the past few days.
Royce went rigid against him.
He lifted his head from Haydn’s neck and stared at him, his gaze dark and so intense it triggered a flutter of nerves in Haydn’s chest.
“Are you serious?” Royce said hoarsely. He smelled aroused. He looked aroused.
Haydn shrugged with a rueful smile. “Not exactly something I would joke about. Come on. One-time offer.”
Royce didn’t need convincing. It didn’t take him long to jerk his fly open and pull out his half-hard cock. A few strokes, and it was hard and thick in Royce’s hand, the head glistening with pre-come.
Haydn licked his lips. “My face?” he managed through his parched throat.
Royce’s black eyes flicked to his face and became a little unfocused. But he shook his head. “I want…” He looked down, at Haydn’s chest.
“My chest?” Haydn murmured.
Upon receiving a clipped nod, Haydn brought his hands up and started unbuttoning his gray shirt. He felt terribly conscious of Royce’s gaze on him, of Royce’s hard cock—which smelled fucking divine. Part of him couldn’t believe he really was doing this. It was insane.
When his shirt finally fell open, Royce raked his eyes over the length of his torso, lingering on his thick pecs.
“They look almost like tits,” Royce said, stroking his cock absently.
Haydn flushed. “There’s no need to be jealous,” he said with a chuckle, trying to ignore the weird heat that curled in his lower stomach.
“Touch them,” Royce said, still looking at his pecs.
Feeling overly warm, Haydn did as he was told. He brought his hands up and squeezed his tits—uh, his pecs—and Royce made a low sound and ground his cock against Haydn’s abs, shoving his face against Haydn’s throat again. He bit on his neck, and Haydn jerked, a whine slipping out of his mouth.