Kael's POV
Akira's room smelled like him. Not the faint, everyday trace that clung to his clothes or the pillow he sometimes left behind at my place.
This was pure and concentrated Akira; warm skin, the soft sweetness of whatever lotion he used. And underneath it that faint, addictive edge that always made my cock twitch the second I caught it.
I was sitting on the edge of his bed, my elbows lapped on my knees, trying to breathe through my mouth like that would help. But nooo, it didn't. Every inhale just pulled more of him into my lungs until my blood felt thick and hot.
Down the hall I could hear their voices. Akira's soft, careful tone as he tried to calm his mother, her sharper replies that eventually softened.
She was saying something about dinner and then how he didn't need to fuss. I stared at the floor and counted the seconds, jaw locked so tight my teeth ached.
