13. Tiramisu in Flight

THIRTEEN

TIRAMISU IN FLIGHT

Oliver blinked awake just in time to see the garage door shuddering to life. As they rolled into the underground car park, both he and Lucas looked as though they’d been taken captive by the fae and compelled to participate in a wild, outdoor sex ritual. Oliver with his love-bitten neck, and sticky skin. Lucas with his bloody nose, mud caked trousers and feral gleam in his eyes.

Stretching his legs into the footwell, Oliver waited for Lucas to check the coast was clear—because he did not need his neighbours seeing him like that. The alpha’s heavy footsteps returned moments later, echoing around the garage. He glanced at the front of the car, grimacing as he looked up at Oliver through the window. Oliver frowned and pushed open the door, stumbling like a baby deer as his legs trembled beneath him. Lucas caught his waist, tucking him against his body.

“Shit,” Oliver said, staring down at the front of the Yellow Peril. Grass and mud coated the bonnet, and huge clods of earth protruded from the front grill. Not to mention the cannon ball sized dent under the left headlight.

“Is that a pheasant?” Oliver said, eyes flitting over the feathers sticking out the front bumper.

“I’d say it’s the remains of one.”

“Gross.”

“Apologies, Reed. I’ll pay for the damage.”

Oliver bent down to look at the dent. “Nah. I think she needs burning, to be honest. Still road legal, though.”

Lucas grinned and ruffled Oliver’s hair. “Look,” he said, pointing to something sandwiched under the roof bar.

“No way,” Oliver replied, stumbling over to it. Because there, wedged tightly under the metal bar, was the box of tiramisu. Truly, miracles never ceased. “Come on, before the neighbours start getting nosey.”

Lucas chuckled as he pried the box free and slipped it under his other arm. “It’s two o’clock in the morning. I doubt anyone will be up.”

Oliver tutted. “You underestimate the tenacity of busybodies. They’d make better detectives than us.”

Thankfully, there was not even a flicker of movement as they stumbled into Oliver’s apartment. The heatwave had subsided for the time being, his body exhausted from the cataclysmic hormonal rush. “You put the kettle on. I’ll warm up the shower,” he said, slipping from beneath the alpha’s arm.

“I can sort out the shower, Reed. You rest.”

Oliver shook his head.“I-I’d rather keep myself busy.” Lucas nodded, but did not move from the hallway. He looked oddly lost, like he didn’t know what to do with himself. “Everything… okay?” Oliver asked, cocking his head.

“I… it’s nothing,” he replied, rubbing the back of his neck.

Oliver’s gut twisted, and he swallowed the lump forming in his throat. “You… oh… you want to leave.”

Lucas’ eyes softened as he let out a breath. “No,” he said, pulling Oliver into his arms and kissing his forehead. “I’ll make a cup of tea.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

With that, Oliver shuffled into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Glancing up at the mirror, he realised just how fucking terrible he looked. His skin was pale and clammy, the white-blonde colour of his hair now a sickly shade of pond water green. Christ , that better wash out.

“Reed,” Lucas called. “Come here, please.”

Pushing a hand through his hair, Oliver slowly padded to the kitchen. He found the alpha staring into his open fridge, tiramisu still in hand. “Yes?” Oliver said, standing next to him.

“You have half a pint of milk and a block of cheese.”

He nodded. “That is an accurate summary, detective.”

“Don’t you ever cook for yourself?”

Shrugging, Oliver plucked the dessert from Lucas’ hand and slid it onto the bottom shelf. “I’ve been working a lot. And besides, now I have cheese, milk and some world class tiramisu.”

Lucas sighed, dropping to his haunches and opening the freezer. “Well, at least this is stocked up. Is that five trays of frozen lasagne?”

Oliver chuckled, “Cottage pie. It’s the result of Matteus’ pregnancy induced cooking frenzy.”

Lucas arched an eyebrow. “Pregnancy induced?”

Oliver clapped a hand over his mouth. “Oh shit, forget I said that. It’s early days, and well… you know.”

A wide smile spread across Lucas’ face as he rose to his feet. “That’s wonderful news. Congratulations Uncle Reed.”

A thrill of excitement washed over Oliver, and he smiled as he waved the comment away. “Thank you, but don’t say that. I’ve been having a hard time containing myself. All my shopping recommendations have changed from kickboxing gear to bottle cleaners and onesies.”

“Well, you can never have too many onesies.”

“For the baby .” Oliver said, slapping Lucas’ arm. “Anyway, the shower should be hot enough now.”

Lucas nodded and followed him into the hallway, stopping at the threshold of the bathroom. He glanced at the front door, then back at Oliver, the same restless expression crossing his face. “Look, if you want to go, then go,” Oliver said, unbuttoning the top of the pink shirt. “I won’t be offended…” Though he really, truly would be quite offended . “And I can return the shirt when the heat is over…” Lucas was never getting the shirt back . “Besides, you have work tomorrow and you need sleep…” Please stay.

The alpha stepped across the threshold and silenced him with a hard kiss. “I don’t think you quite understand, Reed,” he whispered against his lips.

“What do you—” Lucas kissed him again, pushing him back against the porcelain sink. No one had ever kissed him like Lucas White—as though time itself could wait, whilst he held him in his arms.

“Lucas—” he whispered, gripping the front of his mud-streaked vest. “What’s wrong?”

The alpha huffed and dragged his lips to Oliver’s hairline. He inhaled a few times before saying, “I can honestly say that if someone came through that door right now, they wouldn’t leave here alive. Not even the postman.”

Oliver flushed and clapped a hand over the alpha’s mouth. “I’ll not accommodate talk of violence, thank you very much. And besides, I’ve never once invited the postman in for a cup of tea. The neighbours would talk.”

Holding Lucas’ gaze, he unbuttoned the rest of the pink shirt, letting it fall open to reveal the pale expanse of his chest. Dried slick and seed clung to his skin as a licentious reminder of what had occurred between them. Lucas’ eyes trailed down the length of his body, pausing at the deep cut of his hips and exposed cock. His lip twitched as he ran his thumb along the fine boning of Oliver’s clavicle.

The next heat wave was a few hours off, but Oliver could feel the nervous anticipation pulsing through his legs.

“Don’t let the water go cold,” he whispered, as Lucas tugged the shirt’s collar to expose Oliver’s bare shoulder. The alpha cocked his head and planted his lips into the crook of his neck, sucking the scent gland until it ached. Tipping his head back, Oliver let the shirt slip from his other shoulder, leaving him completely naked in Lucas’ embrace. He felt vulnerable, so blessedly, intimately, vulnerable.

“The water—” he mumbled, tugging the back of Lucas’ hair a little harder than was polite.

The shower was an immense relief to his tightly wound body, and Oliver sighed as he pressed his face into Lucas’ shoulder. “Is it still green?” He asked, not looking up as Lucas scrubbed the last of the shampoo from his pond-coloured hair.

“A little, but it’s barely noticeable.”

“Maybe I should just dye it.”

“Don’t you dare,” Lucas chuckled.

As Oliver gazed down at the alpha’s toned stomach, he noticed a silvery scar coiling from the top of his left hip to the bottom of his ribs. Frowning, he ran a finger over the bumpy skin. “What’s this?” He asked, as shampoo foam slipped between his feet and towards the drain.

Lucas hummed, scrubbing shampoo into his own hair. “It happened when Joshua died.”

Oliver’s gut twisted as he kept his eyes fixed on the alpha’s skin, unsure if he should ask about it. Eventually he decided that, yes , he really wanted to know, and that Lucas was enough of a grown-up to tell him to mind his own business if he wanted.

“On the train in Barcelona?”

“Yeah. I got wedged between two carriages, a piece of metal nearly sliced me in half.”

“Jesus. I’m sorry to hear that,” Oliver replied, kissing the alpha’s chest.

Lucas sighed and shook his head. “I’m not. Eighteen months of PT was worth the cost to bring his body home. And the counselling. Lots and lots of counselling.” Lucas gave a small smile and flicked Oliver’s chin. “You can ask me about him, you know?”

“W-Well, I mean… not if you don’t want to talk about it.”

Shrugging, Lucas ran the washcloth across his chest and behind his neck. “I don’t mind, Reed. And besides, Joshua would have liked you.”

Oliver scoffed, “I doubt that.”

Lucas smiled. It was the kind of smile that lit up his entire face, encapsulating the happiness of their friendship, despite its tragic end. “He would. Because there’s only one other person in this world that could scowl hard enough to make a social worker quit her job. And that was him.”

Oliver bit his lip as it threatened to twist into a smirk. “I like the sound of him already.”

“You see? Plus, he also had a penchant for shitty cars. God, our parents used to go mad at us for racing up and down Eldershot High Street.”

Tutting, Oliver snatched the wash cloth from Lucas’ hand and forced him to turn around. “First,” he said, scrubbing the cloth across Lucas’ back. “How dare you suggest Yolanda is ‘shitty?’ She is in excellent condition for her age. Or she was until you drove her. Second, you lived in Eldershot? Fucking hell, White, you’re rougher than I thought.”

Lucas laughed, reaching back to squeeze Oliver’s thigh. “Eldershot was just a stop-gap after moving to the UK. My parents needed somewhere with low rent while they set up their jewellery business. Don’t worry, Reed, we moved to High Garden after that.”

Oliver whistled and swatted the alpha’s pert arse. “High Garden, huh? And did you have gold plated butlers to serve you your caviar?”

Lucas scoffed as he turned around. “I don’t appreciate the sweeping generalisations, Oliver. Yes, the jewellery district is extremely affluent, but the housing areas are fairly low key.”

“Oh, really?” Oliver said, giving the alpha a sceptical look.

“Come back with me on our next day off. See for yourself.”

Oliver blinked several times, because that was not what he had been implying. As if picking up on his turmoil, Lucas grinned and pulled him into his arms. “Relax, Reed. I’m not asking you to meet my parents. Although?—”

Oliver blushed and buried his face in Lucas’ shoulder. He really had a knack for turning his legs to jelly. “Were you—” he began, changing the subject. “Were you on duty when…Joshua…you know?”

Lucas hummed and shook his head. “No. He wasn’t murdered by the Spanish cartel, in case you were wondering.” He had been wondering, actually. “We were on holiday, sightseeing on one of those vintage steam trains—the ones with the metal railings you can lean over.” Oliver nodded. “Me, Josh, Josh’s wife and my ex-girlfriend. He went into sudden cardiac arrest right there at the end of the train. He said he felt unwell, and needed some air. I saw him go. Eyes rolled back, and he collapsed. I caught him as he fell over the railing. He’d have been dragged beneath the train. Hell, we were both nearly dragged under.”

Oliver’s eyes flitted across the alpha’s face, trying to find the right words. The thought of Lucas desperately clinging to his dead best friend whilst almost dying himself… It made Oliver clamp his eyes shut. “That’s—Lucas, I’m so sorry.”

Lucas sighed, pressing his nose into Oliver’s hair. “Shit happens to good people. I only wish you could have met him.”

“So do I,” he replied with a soft smile.

Wrapping a large towel around his shoulders, Oliver threw another to Lucas, who draped it around his waist. He looked like a finely chiselled Adonis as he stepped out of the shower, and Oliver wondered how the fuck he’d pulled such a beauty.

Both their stomachs rumbled as they trudged through the apartment, which should have been impossible given the metric-boat-load of pasta they’d consumed that evening.

“Tea?” Oliver said, glancing at the alpha as he perched on the corner of the kitchen table. The towel was riding dangerously low around his hips.

Lucas tilted his head. “It depends. Are you going to continue taking the piss out of my tea drinking preferences?”

Oliver smirked as he poured the alpha a cup of black tea, and an Earl Grey for himself. Sighing, he took the box of tiramisu out the fridge and picked up two spoons from the draining board. He groaned when he glanced at the clock and it read 3:37am, and then glared at Lucas who was absentmindedly checking his phone.

“Oh shit,” Oliver said, patting his hips as though he were wearing clothes. “Have you seen my mobile?”

Lucas glanced up. “It might be in the car. Want me to check?”

“N-No, it can wait until morning. Could you try calling it, just in case?”

Lucas nodded as he put the phone on loudspeaker. The dial tone was immediately cut off by “ this number cannot be reached .” Oliver threw his head back and groaned. “I bet it’s at the bottom of the pond. And my work phone is on my desk. How am I going to call in sick tomorrow?”

Lucas sucked his teeth. “You can call off mine.”

“Yeah, but then everyone will know… we’re together… again.”

Lucas smirked. “Is that such a bad thing?”

“Yes! What if the Inspector boots you back to the Met for not following his orders? You said yourself, you’re on very thin ice.”

“Reed… I don’t think the Inspector will have a problem with it.”

“What do you mean?”

Rubbing his chin, Lucas stood and picked up his cup. “That is… confidential.”

“Oh piss off, you’re sleeping on the sofa.” Oliver grumbled, taking the tiramisu, two spoons, and his Earl Grey to the bedroom door. Lucas chuckled as he leaned against the countertop, sipping his tea in nothing but a towel like it was the most leisurely thing in the world.

He looked at Oliver over the rim of his cup. “I’ll sleep wherever you want, Reed.”

Oliver scowled and toed the door open, fully intending to slam it shut behind him. But as he crossed the threshold, he realised he wanted nothing more than for the alpha to join him in his bed. In his… nest . Although he still hated that word. And there was no way in hell he was saying something embarrassing like “Oh would you pleeease come to bed, alpha?”

So instead, he left the door open and barked, “Hurry up.”

The second heatwave came at 4:32am. Oliver knew because he glanced at the alarm clock as the two of them ate tiramisu amongst the pile of pillows, blankets, and stuffed animals. Lucas was resting an elbow on Roger’s head, idly licking cake off the back of his spoon.

“This is amazing,” Oliver groaned, as he shovelled another spoonful into his own mouth.

Lucas nodded, wiping a speck of cream off Oliver’s lip. “Who knows how many other things you might like if you try them?”

It wasn’t necessarily the comment that set him off, or the way Lucas licked the cream off his fingertip. However, the cramp that shot through his spine made his leg spasm, causing him to kick the lunchbox off the bed.

“Reed,” Lucas said, tentatively placing his spoon onto the bedside table. Oliver swallowed and tossed his own spoon onto the floor. Heat pooled in his gut, a deep flush darkening his skin as the alpha pulled him down the bed by his ankles.

“O-Oh, shit,” he moaned, tipping his head back.

“I’m here,” Lucas said, gripping his thighs and pushing his legs up.

“N-No, on my front,” Oliver groaned, as he tried to roll onto his stomach.

Lucas helped him the rest of the way, growling as he gripped his hips and kissed his shoulder blades. His body was an inferno, a thin sheen of sweat making him clammy. Lucas blew a cooling breath across Oliver’s back, before leaning down and burying his face in his crease. Biting his arse cheek he said, “Has anyone told you you taste like heaven, Oliver?”

No, no one had ever told him that.

Oliver buried his face in the pillow and gripped the sheets as Lucas sank inside him for a second time, groaning loudly when his body willingly accepted the penetration. The alpha gently pressed on his lower back, encouraging him to spread his legs and angle his hips, as he massaged little circles across his spine. Oliver’s thighs shook as Lucas fucked him with long and rolling strokes, his entire length sliding in and out whilst his engorged knot pressed against his entrance with every pass.

“That’s it,” Lucas whispered, leaning down to nip the nape of Oliver’s neck. “Does that feel good, sweetheart?”

Oliver’s mouth hung open as he gripped the pillow, eyes squeezing shut when another rush of heat flooded his muscles. His whole body shuddered at the carnal satisfaction of being claimed over and over with every thrust. In fact, it felt so fucking good that he let out a surprised yelp when something sharp jolted through his cock.

“A-Ah!” He cried, slapping his hand against the headboard. “Lucas, stop!”

The alpha let out a sharp breath and pulled Oliver upright. “What is it? What’s wrong?” He said, pushing away the hair that stuck to Oliver’s forehead.

“I...I…I…I don’t know,” he stuttered, fingers frantically touching the sensitive bundle of nerves at the base of his cock. His eyes went wide as he looked down to see the tiniest of knots protruding beneath the crown of blonde pubic hair. “Oh… Oh my God, is that?—”

He felt Lucas smile against his cheek. “Better late than never,” he said, pressing his palm to Oliver’s belly. “Welcome to the club.”

Sweat dripped from Oliver’s hair as he stared down at the knot, disbelief making it hard to comprehend what had just happened. Sure, he’d known that the underdeveloped knot was there and that it felt good when he touched it. But it had never actually popped out before. His hand covered his mouth as he inhaled breath after shaking breath.

“Does it hurt?” Lucas whispered against the shell of his ear, hips rocking with impatience.

“N-No, it just… took me by surprise.”

“Are you alright?”

“Y-Yeah.”

Lucas hummed as he nibbled Oliver’s earlobe, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple. “Can I see you, Reed? I want to see you.” And Oliver wanted to see him, too. Wanted to see the man that had quite literally fucked the knot right out of him.

Then Oliver rolled over, straddled Lucas’ hips and started bouncing in his lap as the sound of wet slapping reverberated around the bedroom. He praised the Lord that he invested in an expensive mattress the previous year, because it was really saving his knees.

A string of short, sharp staccato moans burst from his mouth as he leant back, body chasing the friction of Lucas’ cock when it rubbed along the sensitive gland within him. It was enough to tip Lucas over the edge, and the alpha moaned a jumbled string of English and Portuguese, knotting Oliver for a second time.

The knot anchored him, holding him still as Lucas’ seed pumped deep inside him. Orgasm ripped through Oliver like a stampede of wild horses, his nails scratching long lines across the alpha’s shoulders.

Then they were still. Quietly, blessedly still.

Waking up at midmorning was highly disorientating. Oliver could not remember falling asleep, nor did he know how they had ended up on the floor in a tangle of limbs and blankets. Every fibre of his body ached, but in a wonderfully satisfied way.

Blinking away sleep, he turned his head and licked his lips, which was when white-hot pain lanced through his teeth. He yelped, clamping his jaws shut. There was blood on the sheets.

Gasping, he sat up and pulled back the blanket that was half covering the alpha. He checked them both over, relieved to find that neither of them appeared injured. Lucas only groaned, pulling the blanket over himself as he slipped back into a deep sleep.

Oliver realised the blood was coming from his own mouth, the taste of it metallic on his tongue. Crawling to the edge of the room, he knelt in front of his mirror. He grimaced when he realised that he looked—to quote Nancy—absolutely fucking shagged .

“ Shit ,” he whispered, finger touching the dried blood on his cheek. Something must have happened during the night, because he had absolutely no recollection of sustaining an injury. Tentatively, he prodded his lip, finding that it was tender to the touch. Pressing the pad of his thumb to his cupids bow, he carefully opened his mouth—eyes going wide when he discovered two gleaming white fangs protruding from his bloodied gums.