The resort days fell into a rhythm that felt both new and eternal — as if they had always belonged here, in the lull of ocean waves and the quiet intimacy of shared mornings.
Kaein woke first again, not because he wanted to but because Lior's weight pinned him like a second blanket. The Alpha clung in his sleep, his breath hot against the crook of Kaein's neck, his hand curled possessively at his waist. Kaein tried shifting once, twice. Nothing.
"Lior," he whispered softly, brushing his fingers through his partner's hair. "Are you planning to keep me hostage until noon?"
A muffled voice answered from his skin. "Exactly."
Kaein laughed under his breath, the sound small and unguarded. He pressed a kiss to the top of Lior's head, his heart too full for words. Even in his half-asleep state, Lior's instincts sang — the urge to hold, to tether, to keep what was his within reach.
---
Breakfast arrived late, only after much protest. They sat on the balcony overlooking the waves, the scent of salt mingling with fresh fruit and coffee. Lior fed Kaein a piece of melon with the most serious expression, as though it were a ritual binding them.
"You're ridiculous," Kaein murmured, lips brushing the fork before taking the bite.
"You love it," Lior countered, smirking faintly.
And he did. Every bit of it. The teasing, the clinging, the little ways Lior's affection brimmed over like it couldn't be contained.
---
Later, they walked the coastline. The sand was warm, the tide rolling soft against their ankles. Children ran past, chasing kites and seashells. Couples strolled hand in hand, yet somehow, the world seemed to fold around the two of them, like actors under a spotlight, the background blurring away.
Lior tugged him close without warning, pressing a kiss to his temple before murmuring, "Do you know how dangerous this is? Being here with you, like this, makes me want to keep you locked away, just for me."
Kaein arched a brow, amused. "And ruin my freedom?"
"Yes," Lior said, entirely serious. Then his tone softened, a sigh escaping him. "But I won't. Because the only thing I want more than having you… is watching you live the way you want."
The line struck deep — tender, raw, and so unlike the possessiveness that Alpha instincts dictated. Kaein leaned into him, threading their hands tighter. "You don't have to say it. I know."
---
The afternoon passed with laughter — Kaein trying, failing, to build a sandcastle while Lior mocked his "terrible architecture," only to have the tide steal it away anyway. They argued about shells, took photographs with the sky bleeding gold behind them, and returned to the suite sun-warmed and sea-dusted.
Evening crept in, slow and lingering. The curtains were half-drawn, the room dim except for the amber spill of lamps. Kaein stood by the mirror, towel draped over his shoulders, hair damp. Lior leaned against the doorframe, watching him with a gaze that carried more hunger than words.
"You're staring again," Kaein said without turning, though a faint blush colored his reflection.
"I can't help it," Lior replied simply. "Every time I look at you, I think… this is mine. All mine. And the thought makes me lose myself."
The towel slipped from Kaein's shoulders, his movements slowing. The air grew heavier, charged, like the ocean before a storm. He met Lior's eyes through the glass, a challenge laced in softness. "Then show me."
The night came alive again — not rushed, not simply lust, but that same aching devotion laced with urgency. The camera of the world would have lingered on bare skin brushing, lips trailing, fingers weaving into hair. On Kaein's breathless laugh turning into a gasp, on Lior's voice low and reverent as though he were worshiping, not claiming.
Outside, the ocean raged and calmed in cycles. Inside, so did they.
---
Morning after was quieter. They cooked breakfast together — or tried to, with Lior nearly burning toast and Kaein laughing so hard he almost dropped the pan. Their cat video-called through Kaein's family chat, someone holding the little creature up to the camera, and Kaein nearly cried at the sight.
"You're crying over a cat," Lior teased, wiping at the corner of his eye with a thumb, though his own smile was soft.
"That's our cat," Kaein corrected, voice tender.
The day ahead promised more walks, more family visits, more laughter tangled with kisses stolen in hallways and quiet corners. But in that moment, in their seaside suite, surrounded by scent and warmth, it was simple.
Two men. One bond. And a love strong enough to turn every slice of life into something cinematic.