Chapter Twenty-six

Content Warning

This story contains graphic depictions of sexual content. Please be aware that the scenarios depicted are fictional and not an accurate or comprehensive representation of real-life sexual experiences, particularly between two men.  

It’s important to emphasize that sexual intimacy, especially between men, involves preparation, communication, and care that cannot be fully captured or conveyed in a fictional narrative. The reality is nuanced, layered, and deeply personal, and it’s vital to prioritize safety (use condoms, everyone), consent, and mutual respect in all intimate situations. 

Furthermore, please don’t rely on fictional media or content found online as a substitute for proper sexual education. You might think you know everything you need to know because you consume stories that depict sexual intimacy, however, I am here to tell you: No, you don’t. Always seek reliable, evidence-based information, and don’t hesitate to consult trusted sources or professionals if you have questions.

Stay safe, take care of yourselves, and enjoy the story responsibly. 

Author’s Note: This story is set in an alternate universe, in an imaginary town and country, and during an ambiguous time period.

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Kazir sat wrapped in a blanket on the familiar couch in his family’s living room, the weight of Cat and Kitty, his two massive Maine Coons, grounding him as they curled up on his lap. Their slow, rhythmic purring filled the air, soothing him more than any words could. He had run home, like the immature adult he had been feeling he was. He had been mopey all weekend, barely making conversation. His mother, who always seemed to know when something was off, had been checking up on him frequently.

“Are you feeling any better?” she asked gently, her voice filled with motherly concern as she stood at the doorway, watching him with a careful eye.

Kazir adjusted the blanket around him. “Yeah, I’m okay,” he replied, though the heaviness in his chest was still there. “You don’t have to cancel your lunch date with Titi for me, mom.”

His mother was meeting with her younger sister, his aunt Asha, a fellow omega. Kazir loved and admired her. She was proof that a life could be full and meaningful without a spouse or children. She’d never married or had children, dedicating her life to her work as a lawyer and her not-for-profit that had changed so many lives—helping victims of domestic abuse, providing legal aid to those in need, and advocating for justice. Now retired, she traveled frequently, participated in several social groups, and volunteered weekly. 

Growing up, she had been a constant presence, not just in his life but in his parents’ as well. She’d been his mom and dad’s unwavering source of support, always ready with advice or a helping hand. Thanks to her, Kazir had never feared the idea of getting older and remaining single as an omega, because he had a successful model and knew he would be okay. Asha showed him that it wasn’t something to dread but rather an opportunity to pour your energy into the things you loved most.

He wished he could have joined them for lunch, as had originally been agreed on.

The truth was, he wasn’t okay. Even though the symptoms of his heat were mild during the day, they hit harder at night, making sleep elusive. He had been downing a lot of inhibitors to keep himself from spiraling into a full-blown heat, but it wasn’t enough to calm the relentless desire gnawing at him. 

The thoughts wouldn’t leave his mind—Dr. Lim’s words about needing an alpha to soothe him during his heats kept circling in his head. An alpha...

To his growing consternation, he craved pheromones. An alpha’s pheromones. Adisa’s pheromones.

He closed his eyes, frustration bubbling to the surface. The idea of needing someone, of depending on anyone like that, tore at the identity he had built for himself. He wanted to live his life in peace, free from the complexities of omega life. But now, all of that felt like it was unraveling, and his need for Adisa was becoming harder to ignore.

He felt like he was caught between two worlds—one where he maintained his independence, and another where he would have to surrender to the very thing he had been avoiding his whole life.

He glanced down at the two cats sprawled on him, their warmth and steady purring providing a small comfort. At night, though, comfort felt so far away, and the urge to be near Adisa—to just have him close—grew stronger.

His mother stepped forward, sitting beside him on the couch, resting a hand on his arm. 

“About to make coffee. Would you like a cup?”

“Thanks, Mom, but no” he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. 

His phone buzzed. A familiar tension knot in his stomach.

He sighed and rubbed his face. He stupidly wished it was Adisa. It was a text from Jaay.

Jaay: Did you and Adisa leave the cycling club?

The question hit harder than it should have, stirring up everything he had been avoiding. He typed out a quick response, keeping it simple:

Kazir: I was sick, so I haven't been going. I'm not sure about Adisa.

Almost instantly, Jaay responded, probing further.

Jaay: Aren't you guys friends? I thought you were close.

Kazir hesitated. Friends? Were they? The word felt strange now, almost too small to capture the complicated mess of feelings that had grown between him and Adisa. They were colleagues, sure—but that didn’t even begin to cover it. It didn’t explain why Adisa’s presence stirred something deep inside him or why the idea of being near Adisa felt like a mixture of comfort and fear.

He typed slowly, forcing himself to stick to what felt safe:

Kazir: We're colleagues.

Even seeing the word “colleagues” on the screen made Kazir feel weird, like it was an incomplete truth. But what else could he say? They had grown closer—too close—and he wasn’t sure what to make of it anymore. The awkwardness of their last lunch, the constant pull he felt toward Adisa, his craving for Adisa’s touch and pheromones, and his doctor's unsettling suggestion about needing an alpha to soothe him. What did it all mean? Did they still have a friendship, or had things shifted into something more tangled?

What did he want from Adisa? 

Did he still want the simplicity of their old friendship, or was it something more—something he couldn’t even admit to himself yet?

Kazir sighed, running his hand through his hair. The lines between friendship and something more had blurred, and he wasn’t sure how to find his way back. Or if he even wanted to.

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Kazir had finally given in to Mosi’s repeated requests and agreed to join the group dinner with his coworkers. It was Friday And it had been a long, stressful week. It was meant to be a night of relaxation, but he could barely focus. His two-week wait to start his new suppressant was nearly over, with his appointment set for Monday, but in the meantime, everything felt heightened—especially when Adisa was around.

And he was why he had agreed to the damned group dinner. He wanted to avoid him, and that was easy to do, but he missed him. He missed being in his presence and hearing his voice and laughter and seeing him be his charming self.

He missed their friendship, though brief.

All these new realizations had him embarrassed, but he refused to dwell on what it all could mean. He just wanted to see him and then he would go home, take his inhibitor, and go to sleep hoping he wouldn’t dream of Adisa–or maybe he would hope for the opposite. That was all.

Adisa was seated at the opposite end of the table with his own coworkers—Davi, Leah, and a few others from his department that Kazir didn’t recognized. Kazir sat on the opposite end of the table, not talking to anyone while the others around him discussed the latest project they’d wrapped up, laughing over minor mishaps and celebrating small victories. But Kazir couldn’t shake the awareness of Adisa's presence at the other end of the table. He watched him like a crazed individual as he laughed and talked casually with his colleagues, and enjoyed the food. 

No matter how much he tried, his eyes kept drifting over to where Adisa sat. His voice, his smile, even the way his hands moved as he gestured animatedly—it was all too much. 

The smell of the food in the air was delicious, but even through that, Kazir could pick up on Adisa's scent. It was subtle, almost hidden among everything else, but once Kazir caught it, it was like a drug. His heart pounded in his chest, his body reacting in ways he didn’t want it to, especially not here. But the pull was too strong.

His gaze lingered on Adisa’s hands longer than he intended, a strange sense of longing filling him. His mind wandered, wondering what it would feel like to be close to Adisa, to feel his touch without the barriers of their unresolved tension. 

 He wished Adisa was touching him instead of the table or his coworkers.

He hadn’t spoken to him much since their awkward lunch. Though they’d cleared the air somewhat, the conversation had left Kazir more confused about their relationship. Now, sitting in the same room but worlds apart, Kazir found it hard to ignore the pull he felt toward him.

Despite the lively conversation around him, he didn’t participate, only occasionally answering when a coworker he was comfortable with, like Ngozi, spoke to him trying his best to act normal, but otherwise drowning in his thoughts, growing more drunk by the minute. His mind was elsewhere, lost in the warmth of Adisa’s presence, craving something he couldn’t quite name but couldn’t shake off either.

The more he watched Adisa from across the table, the more Kazir's emotions swirled. 

He felt restless, his chest tight with a mix of frustration and desire. 

He wondered if he should have taken another inhibitor before he left work. Though he wasn’t supposed to be taking as many as he had been, he knew to function until his two weeks wait was up, he had been taking way more than the daily dosage. And he had been fine, just not when he was in Adisa’s presence.

He momentarily wondered what that meant, staring at the food in front of him that remained mostly untouched. Even when he wasn’t looking in Adisa’s direction, his focus remained fixed entirely on him, and the longer the dinner went on, the harder it became for Kazir to suppress the overwhelming pull he felt toward him.

Lost in his longing, Kazir downed another drink, trying to shake his lewd thoughts free, but it only made the feeling worse. The alcohol was loosening his control. He felt miserable.

“Kazir, you okay?” Ngozi asked, nudging him gently.

He snapped back to the present, realizing he had been zoning out. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he mumbled, forcing a smile.

But the truth was, Kazir wasn’t fine. There was this odd feeling building within him, like an itch he couldn’t scratch. 

His last interaction with Adisa surfaced. The words from their last conversation, Adisa’s soft apology, his concern about Kazir’s health and pheromone control—it all swirled in his head, mixing with his doctor’s advice about finding an alpha. It was maddening.

The sound of Adisa’s laughter drifted over to him again, and Kazir’s chest tightened.