Trevor shifted, easing Lucas back into the mattress, one hand braced beside his head, the other sliding up his side through the thin fabric until it rested just below his ribs. The cedar on his skin deepened with the heat rising between them; the faint pulse of Lucas's own scent answered, curling up around them like invisible smoke. Their mouths met again, deeper this time, a kiss that drew a soft sound out of Lucas's throat. Trevor swallowed it, moving closer until the length of him was pressed against Lucas, breath shuddering.
Weeks of enforced public distance, of polite touches and stolen glances in crowded rooms, ignited all at once. The clean, comforting scent of cedar that always clung to Trevor's skin sharpened, deepening into something richer, muskier, the unmistakable pull of his rut rising to meet the sweet, intoxicating bloom of Lucas's heat. It flooded the space between them, a potent mix that made the air itself feel thick and heavy.
