Chapter 22 #3
But the apartment was no longer silent. The subtle sounds of kitchen activity—water running, cabinets opening—reached him before the scent did.
And when that honey-cherry blossom-lily fragrance hit him, his pupils dilated instantly, his heart rate accelerating as his body responded to Lan’s presence with the predictability of a chemical reaction.
Jaxson moved through the apartment with quiet purpose, following that sweet scent like a predator tracking prey. He paused in the kitchen doorway, his breath catching in his throat at the scene before him.
Lan stood at the stove, slim hips swaying slightly to some unheard melody as he stirred something in a pot.
But it wasn’t just that he was cooking—it was what he was wearing.
Jaxson’s favorite white dress shirt hung off Lan’s smaller frame like a lover’s claim, the sleeves rolled up to reveal delicate wrists, the collar slipping to expose one pale shoulder.
A pair of shorts so brief they were barely visible beneath the shirt’s hem showcased endless legs that made Jaxson’s mouth go desert-dry.
The sight struck him with physical force—a visceral punch of desire and possessiveness so intense he had to brace a hand against the doorframe to steady himself.
This was his deepest fantasy materialized in his kitchen without warning—Lan in his clothes, cooking in their kitchen, looking for all the world like he belonged there.
Steam rose around Lan like an ethereal halo as he added something to the pot—eggs, maybe, and what looked like leftover ham.
The domesticity of it all—this beautiful boy wearing his shirt, making food in their shared kitchen, humming softly to himself—unleashed something primal and possessive in Jaxson’s chest. The beast within him didn’t just purr; it roared, the sound echoing in his mind as his vision narrowed to this single perfect tableau.
MINE, it snarled with a conviction that resonated through his very bones. This is how it should always be.
The honey-sweet scent intensified, filling the kitchen with a fragrance so intoxicating Jaxson felt momentarily lightheaded.
His heart pounded against his ribs like it was trying to break free, the golden warmth in his chest spreading through his limbs until even his fingertips tingled with it.
The desire to touch, to claim, to mark was nearly overwhelming—a physical ache that demanded satisfaction.
He moved forward without conscious thought, drawn by forces beyond his control.
His footsteps were silent on the tiled floor as he approached, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from Lan’s body but not yet touching.
The urge to wrap himself around that slender frame, to bury his face in the crook of that exposed neck, to claim what something ancient and instinctive insisted was already his, was almost impossible to resist.
“Looks good,” he said, his voice dropping to a register he barely recognized—rougher, deeper, laden with barely suppressed hunger.
Lan’s wooden spoon clattered against the edge of the pot, his entire body jolting in surprise.
The honey-sweet scent exploded in the air between them, intensifying so dramatically that Jaxson had to bite back a groan.
The fragrance wrapped around them both like an invisible claim, marking them as connected in some fundamental, immutable way.
“It’s fancy ramen!” Lan blurted, still not turning around, the tension in his shoulders betraying his nervousness. “With eggs and ham and stuff. Not just the twenty-five-cent kind.”
Jaxson fought back a smile at Lan’s flustered response, finding it both endearing and irresistibly tempting.
Watching Lan struggle for composure made the predator in him stir, hungry for more of those breathless reactions.
He moved closer, until his chest brushed against Lan’s back, and placed his hands on the counter on either side of that slender frame.
The position effectively caged Lan in, trapped between Jaxson’s body and the kitchen counter—exactly where something primitive in Jaxson’s soul insisted Lan belonged.
“I wasn’t talking about the ramen,” he murmured, lowering his head until his lips nearly brushed the shell of Lan’s ear. The proximity sent another wave of that intoxicating scent washing over him, making his blood sing in his veins. “Though that does look… interesting.”
He could see the rapid pulse fluttering at the base of Lan’s throat, could feel the slight tremor that ran through that smaller body at his words. The evidence of Lan’s response to him—involuntary, instinctive, impossible to fake—fed something hungry and possessive in Jaxson’s chest.
“Jaxson,” Lan breathed, his voice barely above a whisper, the sound of his name in that breathless tone sending heat coursing through Jaxson’s body. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
Unable to resist any longer, Jaxson lowered his head, burying his nose in the crook of Lan’s neck, inhaling deeply of that honey-sweet scent that had become as necessary as oxygen.
The fragrance filled his lungs and sent electricity racing through his veins, making his head swim with its potency.
His eyes closed of their own accord as he savored the warmth, the closeness, the rightness of having Lan here in his arms.
The golden heat in his chest flared at the contact, intensifying until it felt like he might burn from the inside out.
His heart thundered against his ribs, the rhythm matching perfectly with the rapid pulse he could feel beneath his lips where they rested against Lan’s neck.
The synchronicity felt like further confirmation of what he already knew bone-deep—they were made for each other, designed to fit together like this, two parts of a whole finally reuniting.
“You’re wearing my clothes,” Jaxson murmured against Lan’s skin, feeling the slight shiver that ran through the smaller body at the vibration of his words.
His lips brushed against the sensitive spot just below Lan’s ear—not quite a kiss, but more intimate than an innocent touch.
“You seem to have developed a habit of borrowing my things.”
The sight of his shirt on Lan’s body, the evidence that Lan had deliberately sought out something of his to wear, fed a possessive hunger that grew stronger by the day.
Each item Lan borrowed became imprinted with his scent, marking it as theirs rather than merely Jaxson’s—a tangible reminder of their connection that satisfied something primitive in Jaxson’s soul.
Lan’s pulse accelerated beneath Jaxson’s lips, the rhythm matching his own heartbeat with perfect symmetry.
The synchronicity felt right, natural, as if their bodies were designed to fall into alignment when they touched.
His fingers itched to trace the exposed line of Lan’s collarbone, to follow the path where his shirt had slipped to reveal that perfect shoulder, to mark that pale skin with his mouth until everyone who saw it would know Lan was claimed.
The beast inside Jaxson purred with satisfaction at having Lan caged between his arms, wrapped in his scent, responding to his proximity with tiny shivers and quickened breaths.
This wasn’t everything he wanted—not by a long shot.
The hunger to claim completely, to mark permanently, to possess without reservation burned in his chest with an intensity that sometimes frightened even him.
But for now, these stolen moments were enough—Lan in his space, wearing his clothes, cooking in his kitchen like the domestic fantasy Jaxson hadn’t known he needed until it materialized before him.
Jaxson believed Lan’s heart belonged to someone else, someone “completely off-limits” as Lan had once confessed.
The knowledge was a constant ache in his chest, a shadow on his satisfaction.
But with Lan’s warmth pressed against him, with that sweet scent surrounding him, with the intimate tableau they created together, Jaxson allowed himself to hope that perhaps that “someone” was him—that Lan’s feelings mirrored his own but remained unspoken for the same reasons Jaxson kept his desire carefully leashed.
He would be patient. He would take what Lan offered now—these intimate moments, these shared breaths, these tentative touches—and work steadily, relentlessly, to ensure that one day, Lan would be his completely, in every way that mattered.
Mine, the beast inside him whispered as he inhaled that intoxicating scent once more, his lips grazing the delicate skin behind Lan’s ear. Not yet, perhaps, not fully. But soon. Always mine.