Eighteen: Hot

*thanks to Niya, chelseylamoureu, and Shortround45 for your support!!*

Warning: slightly mature.

Wren and Vincent spent another hour going over the nitty gritty details of how this Entanglement was going to work, and once they finished, Vincent offered to cook for Wren. Wren, being flustered after so much time spent in the alpha’s presence, agreed, although he really should have booked it out of there as fast as possible to schedule an appointment with his doctor.

Unfortunately, Vincent’s pleading expression and warm scent had Wren agreeing before he knew what he was doing, and now he was watching Vincent in the kitchen, hypnotized by how much more attractive he looked when he rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, revealing muscled forearms.

It didn’t help matters any that Vincent also looked very attractive when he was concentrating. Or that he was just attractive in general. Damn, at this point Wren didn’t know if his air headedness was caused by Vincent’s pheromones affecting him or if it was just his own weakness for beautiful men.

Wren sat politely in the living room while Vincent worked in the kitchen, feeling like he should offer to help, but not wanting to intrude.

He’d learned a few things about how the Entanglement was supposed to go, and so to distract himself from the oddly enthralling sight of Vincent chopping vegetables with all the speed and skill of a professional chef, Wren went over what they’d discussed.

First of all, Vincent had assured Wren that no, they wouldn’t have to touch each other at all times when out in public. His family would, however, expect them to be close physically in the sense that handholding, hugs, and even kisses would be not only expected, but encouraged. Wren silently panicked over that little piece of information because he really wasn’t sure he had the nerve to even kiss Vincent’s cheek, let alone his lips.

Stop being a coward, Wren scolded himself. It’s just acting. He doesn’t actually feel anything for you, so it shouldn’t matter.

Wren let the thought comfort him even as he felt like metal was being twisted in his gut. It also made him wonder, again, why Vincent chose him for this Entanglement. He’d been following Wren around long enough that he should know that Wren was a loner, and not a particularly good actor. Even if Wren fit his family’s picture of the ideal omega, there were probably hundreds of omegas just as suitable as he was for the role.

So why choose Wren? Was it bad luck, or did Vincent have another reason for choosing him?

Wren was so lost in thought that he didn’t notice Vincent leaving the kitchen until something pressed against his lips. He jerked in surprise, looking up to see Vincent standing over him, a piece of bread in his hand that he currently had pressed to Wren’s mouth. Wren looked up at him bewildered, but still automatically opened his mouth before he could really register what was happening.

Vincent popped the piece of bread in Wren’s mouth, using his thumb to push it past his teeth and brushing his lower lip softly as he pulled it out. He moved incredibly slowly, like he was waiting for Wren to lick his fingers clean, and Wren, assuming this was in fact what Vincent wanted, did.

He chewed the bread for only a moment before darting his tongue out to lick Vincent’s thumb, not realizing how wildly inappropriate everything he just did was until he heard Vincent’s breath catch.

Suddenly surfacing from the hazy calm that had descended over him, Wren pulled back, swallowed the bread so fast he almost choked on it, and covered his mouth.

“I am so sorry,” Wren said once he was able to speak again, cheeks so hot he could cook an egg on them, “that was so weird, I’m sorry – ”

“You apologize a lot,” Vincent drawled in his deep, rumbling voice, a husky note to it now that hadn’t been there before. “You don’t ever have to apologize to me. But if you wanted to lick me all you had to do was ask.”

And then, because apparently Vincent was trying to kill Wren, he threw him a crooked smile and stuck the thumb that Wren had just licked in his own mouth, eyes hot as he returned to the kitchen, now in such a good mood that he felt like humming as he bustled around.

Wren watched him go, gaping and flustered beyond belief. He was thankful Vincent distanced himself when he did, because there was definitely a lot more moisture in Wren’s pants than before and if Vincent had remained so close to him, he would have smelled it for sure.

Wren fidgeted for a moment before taking his chance to flee to the bathroom to clean himself up as much as possible and cool down before he did something even weirder, like getting on his knees while Vincent worked in the kitchen and licking something much larger than his thumb. He could feel the urge to do just that fighting him with every step he took away from Vincent, vivid fantasies of it playing behind his eyelids with every blink, the scent-drunk omega inside him keening to get down on his hands and knees and beg for a knot.

God, I’m a mess, Wren thought. This is what the medication was for.

After Wren first went on the medication to help with his scent-drunkenness, he hadn’t noticed much changing in his life precisely because he avoided alphas whenever possible. It helped him be more confident in job interviews and meetings with alphas because he didn’t have to worry about slipping into that space, but when he went off the medication and everything pretty much continued in life as normal, he figured the medication was more of a placebo than anything else. After a few consecutive years with little to no complications from his condition, the doctor who’d been monitoring him said that he didn’t need to depend on the medication anymore and took him off it. Now he was discovering that he went off it too soon. Way too soon. In fact, he might need a higher dosage than before.

Wren closed his eyes as he yanked his pants down, hating the wet pull as he peeled his underwear away from his entrance. He peeked one eye open to see how bad it was and nearly groaned aloud. Being a male omega was annoying as hell for a number of reasons, not the least of which being that there were two places on his body that excreted fluid when aroused. Not only was there a giant slick stain darkening the back of Wren’s gray boxers, but there was also a sizable stain right on the front where his dick had decided to perk up and join the fun.

And now Wren didn’t know what to fucking do. He’d never had to deal with messes like this outside of his heat, and certainly never when he was out in public. Now he was trapped in the bathroom of an alpha he barely knew, leaking like a faucet, with only a short amount of time available to him before Vincent became worried and came to check on him.

This sucks, Wren thought miserably, softly banging his forehead into the wall by the sink.

Wren did the best he could to wipe up the mess with toilet paper, took a few deep breaths, and tried to remember the meditation techniques his doctor had taught him. He went to leave the bathroom a few minutes later, pulling the door open as casually as possible, only to jerk to a stop with a gasp before he could walk right into Vincent’s chest because he was right outside the fucking door.

Wren blinked at him wide-eyed. Vincent parted his lips, and Wren could see the words on the tip of his tongue, about to ask Wren if he was okay, but he stopped, teeth snapping shut and nostrils flaring. Wren watched with a sort of panicked fascination as Vincent’s pupils dilated like a shark catching the scent of blood in the water.

He knew. There was no way he couldn’t know. But Wren had absolutely no idea what to do, so he settled for freezing in place and staring back at Vincent like he thought Vincent wouldn’t be able to see him if he stopped moving.

Vincent’s Adam’s apple bobbed. For a moment, that was the only movement between either of them. And then, ever so slowly, Vincent leaned in, filling Wren’s lungs with woodsmoke and mint. Wren stayed in place, even though all of his nerve endings tingled as Vincent got right into Wren’s personal space. He came up to Wren until they were chest to chest, Vincent’s face right by Wren’s ear, his arms propped on the doorway on either side of Wren.

“Every time I see you,” Vincent suddenly said softly, breath brushing Wren’s neck, making him shiver, “you find some new way to tempt me.”

Wren’s knees trembled, threatening to buckle. Vincent sucked in a harsh breath, tilting his head slightly so his cheek rested against Wren’s temple. It was an oddly intimate gesture, only a step away from scent-marking, and somehow even more unbearable because of the clear restraint in it.

The scent and proximity were doing nothing for Wren’s problem, and he could feel more slick oozing down his thighs, replacing what he’d just cleaned. He closed his eyes tight at the feeling, simultaneously wishing he was anywhere but here and also that Vincent was even closer to him. Close enough to do something about the stickiness between his legs.

A deep rumbling groan came from Vincent’s chest, and he buried his face in Wren’s neck, lips grazing his sensitive skin. Wren tilted his head – just slightly – unconsciously giving him more room. “God, you smell so wet,” Vincent ground out, sounding like he was in pain, and before Wren could stop himself, he let out a sound somewhere between a whimper and a moan. It was desperate. It was slutty.

Vincent’s hands clenched so hard on the doorway that some of the paint chipped off under his grip.

Wren felt Vincent take a deep breath and hold it for a second, like he was trying to find some sense of calm, and a moment later, Wren could breathe again as Vincent took half a step back. But Vincent wasn’t quite done with him, because he grabbed Wren’s chin gently in one hand, making sure Wren kept his gaze focused on him, those dark eyes boring into Wren’s gray ones like he was trying to see into Wren’s head. He leaned in until their noses brushed, and all the while Wren stared at Vincent like he was hypnotized.

“I’ll have to take a rain check on dinner,” Vincent said. “Unless you’d like to stay and make more noises like that for me.”

“…” Wren gulped. There was slick coating his ass, his heart was beating so hard it was a wonder Wren hadn’t passed out, and now he had a decision to make.

Stay. Or go.

Shit.