Page 15 of Angel Boy
I try again, growing more frustrated by the second as the app keeps rejecting my attempts. "Ryker fucking locked my account." The realization hits me, another way he's controlling my life that I hadn't even noticed. "I can't take it anymore, Xavier. I don't want this."
Xavier's eyes rise to meet mine, a mixture of hope and terror in his expression. Like he's afraid to believe what he's hearing, afraid to hope that maybe I'm finally ready to choose what I actually want.
I want to denounce my relationship with Ryker so fucking bad, want to tell Xavier that he's the only one I've ever really wanted. But there's this small, pathetic part of me that keeps hoping Ryker will come around. That maybe when my heat hits this weekend, my pheromones will be enough to trigger his Alpha instincts, make him see me as more than just a business arrangement.
"I don't want him, Xavier. I don't. But I also don't want you to get hurt."
Xavier sets the yogurt aside carefully, giving me his full attention. "What do you mean?"
"Ryker would blacklist you from the entertainment industry. You'd never get another job." The thought of Xavier suffering because of me makes my chest tight with panic, makes it even harder to breathe. "He has that kind of power, and he'd use it. I've seen what he does to people who cross him."
Xavier grins, the expression transforming his whole face. "You fail to realize I'm your security detail. Just because I can't work in entertainment doesn't mean there aren't people out there who don't also need my services. It'll be alright." His hands come up to cup my cheeks, calloused palms warm and steady against my fevered skin. I lean into the touch automatically, starving for any contact that isn't calculated or performed. "Tell me again you don't want him," he says softly, his thumbs stroking gentle circles on my cheekbones. "Before I kiss you."
My heart stops, then starts beating faster than before, need coursing through me. "Alpha, I don't want him. I never did, but he's my scent match and I tried so fucking hard, but I need—"
I don’t even finish before Xavier’s lips are on mine, cutting off whatever desperate confession I was about to make.
The kiss is everything I've been craving and nothing like the careful, distant touches we used to share these past two months. This is a claiming, and it’s desperate and perfect, his mouth moving against mine with months of pent-up want. I can taste the coffee he had this morning, can feel the slight roughness of his lips, can smell his scent wrapping around me like safety itself.
I sigh into the contact, melting against him like I've been starving for this touch my entire life. Because honestly, I have been. My hands fist in his shirt, pulling him closer as tears of relief spill down my cheeks.
When we finally break apart, both of us breathing hard, Xavier rests his forehead against mine. "There's my Angel," he whispers, and for the first time in months, I feel like myself again.
Xavier
The rest of the day passes in a haze that feels completely different from the morning's fog of despair. This time, it's the kind of dreamlike quality that comes from finally getting something I’ve been desperately craving. Each stolen moment with Angel feels like a small miracle. Quick kisses in empty locker rooms when no one's looking, his hand finding mine inthe back of cars as we're transported between venues, the way he leans into me during brief moments when the cameras aren't rolling.
I'm having a hard time keeping my composure, watching the light come back to Angel's eyes in a way that hasn't been there in months. It's like someone flipped a switch inside him, bringing back the spark that made me fall for him in the first place. TherealAngel, the sassy, brilliant, impossibly vibrant man who makes terrible jokes and sees past the gruff exterior I put out as part of my job.
The realization hits me hard. I've felt just as alive as Angel in the past few hours. And I hate how easy it was to step right back into my role as Angel's Alpha instead of just his guard. Like muscle memory, like breathing, like this is what I was always meant to be doing.
Every instinct I have is singing with satisfaction at being able to care for him openly again. When he gets that faraway look that means his blood sugar is dropping, I can press a granola bar into his hands without having to make excuses. When he shivers between takes, I can offer him my jacket without worrying about professional boundaries. When he needs reassurance before a difficult pose, I can give him the gentle encouragement he craves instead of watching him struggle alone.
It's terrifying how natural this feels.
Finishing up the last photoshoot of the day, Angel catches my eye from across the set. Mischief flickers through his expression, the kind of playful confidence I haven't seen from him in far too long.
The moment the photographer calls it a wrap, Angel all but excuses himself from the chaos of crew members and equipment, grabs my hand, and drags me toward the dressing room. He's all smiles and barely contained energy, practically vibrating with joy.
"Someone's feeling better," I murmur as he pulls me through the door and immediately leans up on his tiptoes for a kiss.
His hands fist in my shirt, pulling me closer, and I can taste his desperation mixed with relief and something that might be hope. I laugh into the kiss as I stumble backward against the door, overwhelmed by how much I've missed this. Not just the physical contact, but the emotional intimacy of being what Angel needs.
But then I catch his scent, and everything changes.
Angel's natural sweetness has intensified exponentially, taking on that distinctive note that means his heat is one or two days away, far closer than this weekend. His fingers dig into my shirt a little tighter, Angel letting out a small, needy sound that instantly has me on alert.
"Babe, hold on," I manage between kisses, even though every Alpha instinct I have is screaming at me to give him whatever he wants. "As much as I want to continue this, any further and you might very well go into heat right here."
Angel whines, the sound going straight to my cock and making it incredibly difficult to think rationally. "Alpha, Ineedit. I needsomething. I feel like I'm burning up from the inside."
The plea in his voice nearly breaks my resolve, but I force myself to focus on what's best for him rather than what we both want. A public dressing room is no place for Angel to drop into heat, no matter how much his biology is demanding relief. I frown, studying his flushed face and dilated pupils. "Babe, do we need to go home? Is this the beginning of your heat?"
Angel shakes his head, but his movements are slower than usual. "No, but pretty close. I just feel really hot. Can I just suck you off or something?"
A chuckle tumbles from my lips at the abruptness of his request as he reaches between us to cup me through my pants.My hips buck into his hold, my nostrils flaring as I catch the first whiff of slick hitting the air.
I manage a small, soft smile, letting a gentle purr rumble through my chest to help calm him despite my need to ravage him. The sound has an immediate effect, Angel’s shoulders relaxing slightly, some of the frantic energy dissipating.
