2. Luca
2
LUCA
T he backs of Luca’s thighs hit the edge of the mattress, and upon contact, he plopped his ass down on the bed.
It was starting to get hot—a symptom of his heat rather than an indication of the ambient temperature—and the brief stirring of the air as he dropped was so good, he considered popping back up onto his feet to do it again.
West was less willing to take action.
He stood frozen, arm outstretched, still holding Luca’s hand.
Like always, he was immaculately dressed, his pressed white shirt done up to the last button and his gray slacks without a wrinkle, just a tie and a suit jacket away from being the most handsome rich kid at the ball.
And he was handsome.
Luca would be lying if he said he’d never noticed.
Back when they were kids, before hormones had turned West into a chiseled masterpiece, he’d been a scrappy, scrawny little thing.
Awkward.
Bumbling.
Forever the last to be picked in gym class, partly because he had no friends, but mostly because he couldn’t be trusted not to trip over his own feet.
Luca had always thought his too-big feet and Dumbo ears were goofy, but the more he saw how others treated West, the more he started to feel bad for him.
Always the butt of someone’s joke, always on the outside looking in, there was an otherness about him that divided him from the rest of their class as effectively as a chasm, and try as he might, West had never found a way to cross to the other side.
Which was why one day in gym class, when chosen by their teacher to be the head of one of that day’s teams, Luca had picked West first out of all their other classmates.
He hadn’t expected to get a friend out of the deal—never mind one so committed to him that he’d stuck by Luca’s side even after puberty had reshaped him into a teenage dream—but that was exactly what happened, and it was how Luca, who was comfortably mid when it came to high school popularity, had ended up best friends with the biggest heartthrob in their grade.
Dark hair, almost black.
Broad shoulders.
A perfect V shape.
Kind brown eyes.
West could have easily ditched him to hang with the cool kids, but he never had.
He’d stayed.
And he’d only gotten more handsome with time.
Never really less awkward, though.
The weird kid who’d been ostracized from his peers was still just as weird as an adult—the difference now was that people were able to overlook his odd behavior now that he was hot.
In certain situations, West was able to slip into what Luca called “rich person mode,” which involved a lot of empty smiling and meaningless quips about one thing or the other—mostly art, which was West’s specialty—but sometimes other rich people things, like golf or theater.
West had learned how to operate in those elite spheres after enough exposure to them, but when it came to day-to-day interactions, he was a bit more stilted.
Uncertain.
Sometimes it felt like he didn’t quite get how to be a human, but that didn’t bother Luca.
West was just West.
He just happened to be Hawaiian pizza when everyone else was pepperoni.
During the times when West was most uncertain about what to do in a situation, he often froze until someone he trusted took the lead, which was why when he remained standing by the bedside, Luca gave his arm a gentle tug.
He was nowhere near strong enough to knock someone as big as West off his feet, but that wasn’t the goal.
With that simple touch, he snapped West out of his paralysis and sent him into action.
West’s knee met the edge of the mattress by Luca’s outer thigh.
His free hand found purchase on Luca’s shoulder.
Firmly, but gently, he pushed Luca onto the bed, then sank down over him, supporting his own weight so well that Luca barely felt him there.
Like this, they were nose to nose, the suggestion of a kiss hovering between them.
Would it be weird to act on it?
The sex they were going to have was transactional—about as platonic as sex could ever be.
West was only helping him out.
It wasn’t like West was actually attracted to him.
If he was, he would have made a move way before now; after all, they’d been roommates for fourteen years, and Luca had been subtly flirting with him on and off for most of it.
“Here.” To distract himself from West’s unfairly kissable lips, Luca stretched his neck so his head was resting on his shoulder.
“If you nuzzle into the crook of my neck and spend a little while breathing me in, instinct should take over, and all of this should become way less awkward. My heat only just started, so it might take a minute for the pheromones to kick in, but it should still work.”
West hesitated, then lowered himself fully onto Luca and nosed into the crook of his neck just like Luca had asked.
The feeling of his body—the weight of it—was intoxicating, but it was the touch of West’s lips on his skin, the gentle contact of his nose, and each soft flutter of breath that fanned the flames of Luca’s heat.
This was his best friend.
His roommate.
The man who had never found anyone good enough to bring home.
But here he was, on top of Luca, willingly breathing in his pheromones so they could bring new life into the world.
Luca’s breath hitched.
The beginnings of an erection distended the front of his shorts.
West was going to breed him.
They were going to have a baby.
“Just for the record,” Luca said breathlessly, hoping West would write off his obvious arousal as a symptom of his heat and not anything more, “it’s not gonna be much longer before I start losing control. Sorry in advance for all the embarrassing things I’m gonna say and do.”
West, nose buried in the crook of Luca’s neck, grunted in recognition and nuzzled closer, breathing deeply, almost greedy in the way he took Luca in.
“You don’t have anything to apologize for,” he said once he’d had his fill, his words hot on Luca’s skin.
“I won’t be acting like myself, either. How can I when you smell this good?”
Luca’s lips parted in a silent moan.
Already trembling from pleasure, he wrapped his arms around West’s neck and pushed his head closer, encouraging more contact, wanting West to be so consumed with him that he thought of no one else.
“I’m wet,” he said quietly, voice almost breaking—and he was.
His slick was coming in so plentifully, he could feel it between his legs.
“As soon as you’re ready, you can put it in.”
West took in a sharp breath—almost a snarl—and grabbed the waistband of Luca’s shorts, yanking them down in one powerful tug.
They hit the floor a second later.
It was official.
There was no going back now.
Luca’s pheromones had taken control.
The breeding session had begun.