The morning light filtered softly through the curtains, pale gold against the walls of their Verdenne apartment. The air still held the faint trace of last night's closeness, warm and grounding.
Lior stirred first. He always did, restless even in sleep. His body, finely tuned to rhythms of flight and discipline, woke him before the alarm. He turned his head and found Kaein still asleep, one arm tucked beneath the pillow, his hair messy across his forehead. The sight tugged something inside him.
"Five more minutes," Kaein mumbled without opening his eyes.
Lior chuckled, leaning down to press his lips to the professor's temple. "We'll both be late if we take five."
"Worth it." Kaein's voice was low, rough from sleep. His hand groped blindly until it found Lior's wrist, holding him there. "Stay."
"I'll make tea," Lior whispered, though he didn't move right away. He bent instead, brushing his scent deliberately against Kaein's skin—his collarbone, the hollow of his throat, his hairline. The gardenia-sweet pheromones curled around them both, soft but unmistakable.
Kaein inhaled sharply. His Alpha instincts stirred, a warmth that pushed through his chest. "You're doing that on purpose."
"Of course I am," Lior said lightly, pulling back with a small smirk. "You forget you're mine when you step out that door."
Kaein opened one eye, gaze sharp and teasing. "I don't forget. But you're shameless."
"Better shameless than careless." Lior kissed him again, firmer this time, his scent laced into the motion. When he pulled away, Kaein was already flushed, his Alpha steady but quietly soothed.
---
Breakfast was simple—tea, toast, eggs. The journals from the hospital still sat stacked neatly on the table's edge, their contents heavy with implication, but neither touched them this morning. Instead, they talked about schedules: Kaein had a lecture at ten, two sessions of supervision, and department meetings in the afternoon. Lior had a flight at noon, a short domestic route, and would be back by evening.
"Don't skip meals," Kaein warned, buttering his toast.
"Don't drown in your students' questions," Lior shot back, reaching across the table to steal the toast slice.
Kaein's mouth twitched in amusement. "You're impossible."
"And you love it."
"I do," Kaein admitted softly.
Silence lingered for a moment—comfortable, full of things unspoken but understood.
---
Before leaving, Lior stood in the hallway, smoothing his pilot's jacket. Kaein stepped closer, looping his tie neatly and pressing close as he did so. His Alpha pheromones rolled gently, brushing against Lior's skin. Not heavy, not demanding—just steady.
"You'll carry me with you," Kaein murmured, tying the last knot and deliberately brushing his scent into the fabric. "Even when you're thousands of feet in the air."
Lior's heart tightened. He cupped Kaein's jaw, tilted his head, and pressed a long kiss against his lips, deep enough that their pheromones mingled in the quiet hallway. "And you'll carry me into your classroom. Let them know you're not available."
Kaein chuckled, though his eyes softened. "They already know. Your scent makes sure of that."
"Good," Lior said simply.
---
The corridors buzzed with students, voices loud and restless. Kaein walked through them with his usual calm, his bag slung over one shoulder. A few students greeted him politely, others whispered. He knew why—his scent wasn't quite his own anymore.
Lior's gardenia-laced Lunar pheromones clung faintly to him, woven into the crisp fabric of his shirt. It wasn't overpowering, but it was there—a declaration of belonging.
One of his colleagues, Professor Hailen, raised an eyebrow when they crossed paths. "You smell different."
Kaein adjusted his glasses, unbothered. "Do I?"
Hailen smirked knowingly. "Claimed."
Kaein's lips curved faintly. "Mutual."
That shut him up. Respect flickered in his colleague's expression before he moved on.
Through the long lecture, through the discussions of criminal behavior and psychological theories, Kaein felt it—Lior's presence, quiet but insistent, layered into his own scent. It steadied him in ways he hadn't expected.
And when the faint ache of rut threatened at the edges, the inhibitor in his pocket reminded him he had a safety net. But the memory of Lior's scent from the morning… that was the true anchor.
---
Lior's world was all glass and steel, the hum of announcements, the scent of jet fuel. Professionalism demanded restraint, but his Alpha's grounding scent clung to his jacket, his collar. He saw the way eyes flicked toward him—Omega flight attendants instinctively relaxing near him, Alphas stepping aside without realizing why.
The bond wasn't permanent, but it was enough. Enough that predators didn't test boundaries, enough that respect followed in the wake of what they shared.
Before takeoff, as he checked instruments in the cockpit, Lior allowed himself one slow inhale. Kaein's scent threaded faintly with his own, caught in the fibers of his uniform. He smiled without realizing it.
Even in the sky, he wasn't alone.
---
The door shut behind them with a soft click, cutting off the outside world.
Kaein barely had time to set his bag down before Lior was there—pulling him close, burying his face in his shoulder. Their scents rushed together instantly, filling the apartment with warmth.
"Missed you," Lior whispered against his skin.
Kaein's arms tightened. "You saw me this morning."
"Doesn't count." Lior tilted his face up, eyes bright. "Five hours in the sky. That's a lifetime."
Kaein kissed him then, slow but consuming, pheromones flooding the air in steady waves. Gardenia sweetness curled with cedar steadiness until it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began.
When they finally pulled back, both were flushed, breathing heavier.
"Dinner?" Kaein asked, though his voice was already roughened.
"Later." Lior leaned in again, stealing another kiss.
---
They ended up tangled on the couch, half undressed, kisses trailing over skin. It wasn't hurried or raw tonight—just deep, soaking in each other's presence.
Kaein's lips brushed Lior's collarbone, and his voice was low. "I keep thinking about it."
"About what?" Lior's fingers threaded through his hair.
"Permanent marking. What it means. Forever."
Lior stilled, then tilted Kaein's face up gently. His pheromones pressed soft reassurance into the air, wrapping them both in gardenia calm. "It's not a chain, Kaein. It's a choice. And if we're not ready… then we wait."
Kaein exhaled shakily, forehead pressed to Lior's. "I'm afraid of tying you to me."
"Too late," Lior whispered with a small smile. "I'm already tied." He leaned down, kissed him again, slow and certain.
They didn't talk about children tonight—not directly. But when Kaein's hand lingered over Lior's stomach, when Lior's gaze softened at the touch, the unspoken words hung between them.
Later, in the dim quiet of their room, they fell asleep with pheromones still heavy in the air, scents entwined in every fabric, every breath.
And for the first time since leaving Aldrene, the apartment didn't feel like just walls and rooms. It felt like theirs.
It felt like home.