Kay entered confidently, casting a casual glance at the bodyguards flanking him, and flashed a bright smile, revealing his pearly white teeth.

"Good evening, Moe," he greeted warmly. "I brought a bottle of wine, but it was taken away."

"Good evening," Moe replied, sizing him up, ensuring that the flawless specimen of Scandinavian beauty looked even better in person than in photos. "That's all right, I can't indulge anyway; I'm breastfeeding."

"Well, then, it's for the best," Kay remarked with a mocking glint in his eye, directing his gaze towards the stern bodyguards. "Gentlemen, you're not leaving us, are you?"

Joe emerged behind him and murmured something softly, prompting the bodyguards to nod and retreat into the dimly lit corridor with him. Meanwhile, Kay approached quietly, neither ostentatious nor aloof, simply allowing himself to be seen. Moe observed appreciatively, noting his natural demeanor—he found Kay's unpretentiousness appealing, affirming that he was indeed worth the hefty sum withdrawn from his own account. Kay drew nearer, extending his hand for a handshake and flashing a smile.

"We have matching outfits, quite the coincidence, wouldn't you agree?"

"Absolutely delightful," Moe's amused gaze swept over their matching dark blue jeans and cajun blue shirts. "A promising beginning," he added as he intertwined his fingers with the warm, sturdy hand extended to him, instantly succumbing to the touch and inhaling the pleasant, minty pheromone.

Kay gently guided him away from the couch, pulling him closer, and leaned in slightly—there was a noticeable height difference—as he parted his lips, his eyes darkening.

"I'd love to start with some wine and casual conversation, Moe, to get to know you better, but I feel like I already do. How about we dance and chat?"

"I like the sound of that," Moe trailed his palms down his sturdy chest to his neck, relishing the sensation, before encircling his hands around Kay's neck, initiating a gentle sway. "What music do we choose?"

"Mmm, your eyes evoke Peter Buka's 'Carol of the Bells' for me—festive yet mischievous, like Christmas itself," Kay murmured softly, edging closer to his lips, leaving me breathless with anticipation. Moe leaned back slightly, bracing himself for the impending kiss, feeling his muscles tense with anticipation of physical pleasure.

"What the hell?!" enraged Einar stormed into the living room, his narrowed eyes blazing with fury at the sight of the two of them embracing.

"There goes the fucking…" Moe murmured sadly, reluctantly releasing his grip around Kay's pleasantly firm neck and turning to face Einar. "That's what I wanted to ask you—what the hell are you doing here?"

Kay stepped aside cautiously, not appearing embarrassed, concealing the hint of amusement in his eyes as he gazed intently at the intricate pattern of the carpet—evidently, he had found himself in similar situations before and was prepared for any outcome. The spectacle of the two lovers and the jealous husband seemed to entertain him, yet it did not intimidate him. Moe nodded approvingly at the way Kay bit his lip to stifle a laugh before turning his attention back to Einar, ready to confront him head-on.

"I'm on a date, in case you hadn't noticed, so get out of here before I lose my temper," Moe stood in front of Einar, his fists clenched menacingly.

“With a whore?” Einar ground out through clenched teeth, his jealousy was palpable.

“Yeah,” Moe replied with a nonchalant shrug. “Well, you might call him a courtesan, a paramour—you've mentioned before that you've used his colleagues’ services and were happy. So, what's the problem?”

“Everything!” Einar advanced, narrowing the space between them. “Moe, please send him away. If you want... if you want, I'll be your companion. It'll be even better with me because I know all your sensitive spots and preferences," Einar whispered against Moe's lips, his eyes ablaze with fury. “I know what you desire and what not, I can fulfill any fantasy, just give the word.”

Moe's breath hitched at the proximity, at the intensified scent of sea salt, and he closed his eyes, allowing stirring images to surface in his mind, and feeling Einar's arms encircling his waist, drawing him closer. Yet, with a willful effort, he pulled away, extracting his hands from Einar's grasp.

“Einer, the concept of paid services gives freedom from emotional entanglements,” Moe asserted firmly, placing his hand on Einer's chest to halt him. "There's no connection beyond the transaction itself. That should be crystal clear."

“I'm willing to abide by that, Moe,” Einer brushed off Moe's hand from his chest, drawing him closer and whispering fervently into his ear. "Treat me like a whore, Moe, just give it a try, see if you like it, and if you don’t..." Einer bit his earlobe sharply, his voice rising. "Then you can always revert to that clichéd option."

Stolen novel; please report.

Kay chuckled at the unflattering description of himself, then calmly inquired, “Should I stick around, Moe, or...?”

In the living room, two striking men vied for Moe's attention - under different circumstances, Moe would have been ecstatic, but now he hesitated. His body, awakened by familiar touch and pheromones, yearned for Einer's exclusivity, but the potential consequences were daunting. Sensing Moe's uncertainty, Einer exhaled sharply, planting a kiss on the sensitive spot beneath Moe's ear, a touch that always melted him, and growled as Moe moaned, succumbing to the sensation.

“Well, I must be off,” Kay smoothly passed by, prompting Moe to clutch Einer's shoulders and follow him, still torn between the two. Einer shielded Moe from the departing figure, whispering, “No emotional pressure, Moe! You can show me the door any time.”

“Fuck it, ok!” Moe enveloped Einer's neck with his arms, mimicking the recent embrace he had shared with Kay, and pressed his lips against Einer's, breathless.

Einer, flustered, responded by fiercely capturing his lips, eagerly delving into his mouth, guiding him towards the couch and hastily removing their clothes. Fueled by the fervent kisses and the insistent grip of Einer's strong hands on his body, Moe, overwhelmed, murmured incoherently, “Not here, not here...”

Einar effortlessly lifted him from the floor, just as he had done many times before, carrying him while continuing to kiss him passionately. He put him onto the bed in the adjoining guest bedroom, unmistakably recognizing the room that Moe had prepared for tonight's escapade. He surveyed the signs of planned indulgence with a fierce gaze- the squares of condoms, the towels on the nightstands, the soft pinkish light dimmed by the lampshade, before hastily removing Moe's jeans and underwear. Moe eagerly spread his legs, grabbing Einar's already aroused cock, and observed with half-closed, languorous eyelids as Einar quickly shed his own clothing.

Einar, still partially dressed in his shirt and pants unbuttoned, reached for the light switch, casting the bedroom into darkness. Fumbling through his clothes, he lay on top of Moe, seeking his lips in the dimness. Moe grasped his shoulders, drawing him closer, but then hesitated - the skin beneath his touch felt rubbery and unsettling, evoking more pity than desire, causing his once rigid erection to soften rapidly. Einar, still kissing him passionately and unaware of the change, continued his caresses, sliding his hand down Moe's thigh toward his wet opening. Bending over to the nightstand to retrieve a condom, he asked in a hoarse voice, “Is something wrong?”

“I can't, Einar,” Moe shuddered, tenderly tracing his palms over the roughened bumpy skin, exploring it, feeling the texture of the burns that extended almost to his thighs. “Did it hurt terribly?”

Einar nuzzled against his neck, planting a brief kiss there, then spoke after a weighty pause, “The mental pain was far worse, Moe. I believed I had caused your death. The physical discomfort was insignificant compared to the emotional anguish. Please, don't feel sorry for me. Your pity is crushing. Try to see me as the old Einar you once desired.”

“Right now, it's all too much for me. I just wanted to release tension, that's all. We shouldn’t have started this,” Moe said, applying gentle pressure to Einar's shoulders, urging him to recline so he could join him on the bed. "This was just sex, Einer. You shouldn't have intervened. I've had my fair share of casual sex in life. I'm neither proud nor ashamed of them - they're just experiences. I prefer to keep things uncomplicated, you know? That's why I'm going to call that alpha again."

“I get it," Einar exhaled with desperation. "But I can't let it go. Let me try, Moe," he insisted, shifting his position to move downwards, taking Moe's flaccid cock into his warm mouth and cupping his buttocks.

Moe arched upwards, gasping, entwining his fingers in the thick, soft hair, allowing Einer to caress his cock, finding no resistance after a moment of open desperation, and obediently welcomed him, rising up and rustling the condom wrapper. Cupping his face in his palms, he drew him in for a kiss, tasting his own musky essence, and let out a moan into his mouth as Einar slowly entered, igniting the walls with a sensation that was almost uncomfortably intense yet fueled by anticipation. Moe pulled back from their kiss, emitting a groan, “Oh, my God.”

"It's just Einar," he said with mock confidence, leaning in more assuredly towards his lips and moving with a deliberate slowness—reminiscent of their first time but far better- touching exactly where needed, penetrating at just the right angle, each smooth thrust eliciting waves of pleasure.

They synchronized their movements effortlessly, communicating without words, casting aside unnecessary self-consciousness and past grievances, accelerating until their bodies slapped together, moaning and panting until Moe reached a sharp, piercing climax, arching in a rigid arc and choking on his cry. Einar came with a few forceful, erratic thrusts before collapsing onto the bed, loosening his grip and brushing his lips against the spot under Moe's ear, just as Moe had once adored. In that moment, Moe surrendered to his own euphoria, lost in a whirlwind of sensation, oblivious and liberated.

He regained his senses in Einar's arms, feeling the gentle touch of Einar wiping his tear-dampened cheeks, murmuring something indistinct, and squirming, attempting to get out from the embrace.

"It wasn't worth it. We can't continue like this without addressing the past, Einar," his own voice sounded tremulous and feeble, and Moe fell silent, tears streaming down his face.

"We can at least try, Moe. Please, let's give it a chance," Einar urged gently, and Moe leaned his cheek against Einar's chest, wincing at the rough texture of the skin, his eyes welling up with tears once more.

Why so... bad?" Moe paused, but Einar understood.

"Because I loved you so much. One of the bodyguards, I don't remember who, poured water on a travel blanket to try to reach the faucet, and I grabbed it, threw it over my head, and rushed forward. I thought I might make it in time, though it was clear that anyone left inside had already died of asphyxiation before the flames reached them. That's why I was only partially burned - the blanket slipped unluckily," Einar explained calmly and softly. "They pulled me out before the beams collapsed and sedated me so I wouldn't hurt myself trying to go back in. When I woke up in the clinic, I regretted deeply that I hadn't been allowed to die there with you. At least that way we could have stayed together. But things turned out for the best. I found you, discovered we had a son. Now I'm desperate to live, Moe. Please don't cry. I feel so guilty, will you ever forgive me?"

"I don't know," Moe repeated sadly, wiping his tear-stained face with the blanket.

"I won't push, I'm sorry," Einar murmured fearfully, his voice tinged with a mix of regret and sensuality. "I'll just be here."