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Thursday Morning, 6:47 AM
Max wakes up freezing.
Not metaphorically freezing. Not "oh it's a bit chilly" freezing. Actually, legitimately cold enough that his omega hindbrain is staging a protest about inadequate nesting conditions. He's curled into the smallest possible ball, knees tucked to chest, and he can still feel goosebumps prickling across his skin.
The thermostat, he knows without looking, has been sabotaged.
Again.
Through their bond, he feels Charles' smug satisfaction like a warm pulse against his sternum. The mating mark on Max's neck throbs in response, carrying his irritation directly back to his alpha. Two years mated means their scents have mingled so thoroughly that Max can't tell where cedar ends and his own ocean-salt begins, and it also means Charles can feel exactly how annoyed he is right now.
Good. Let him feel it.
He turns his head to glare at his sleeping alpha. Charles is sprawled across his side of the bed like a starfish, one arm flung over his eyes, completely uncovered except for a sheet tangled around his ankle. He looks peaceful. Comfortable. Warm-blooded and utterly content.
The bond hums with his alpha's amusement.
"I know you're awake," Max says flatly.
"I'm sleeping," Charles replies, not moving.
"You turned the thermostat down again." Max sends a sharp spike of annoyance through the bond. "I can feel how pleased with yourself you are."
Charles' lips quirk into a smile he tries to suppress. "Can you? How strange."
Max extracts himself from his blanket cocoon with extreme prejudice, stalking naked across their bedroom to check the control panel. Seventeen degrees Celsius. Seventeen. The optimal temperature for omegas is twenty-two minimum, and Charles knows this because Max has told him approximately forty-seven thousand times.
His irritation floods the bond, sharp and cold.
Charles' amusement warms in response, affectionate and unrepentant.
"Seventeen," Max announces, turning to face his husband. "You set it to seventeen."
Charles finally opens his eyes, green bright with poorly suppressed laughter in the early morning light. "I run hot."
"You run like a normal alpha. I run cold. We've had this discussion."
"Have we?" Charles stretches deliberately, all leonine grace and provocation. The bond thrums with his playfulness, teasing and warm. "I don't recall."
Liar. Max's internal voice sounds murderous. Lying liar who lies and thinks the bond will save him from retaliation.
He stalks back to bed, fully intending to maintain his anger. Charles immediately reaches for him, and Max allows himself to be pulled close purely because his alpha is a walking furnace and he needs the body heat to survive. Also because the bond is singing with Charles' affection, and fighting that is like fighting gravity.
"Don't think this means you won," Max mutters, even as he burrows into Charles' chest.
"I'm not trying to win." Charles wraps around him completely, legs tangling with Max's, one arm banded across his waist. "I'm trying to keep you warm."
"You're trying to avoid turning the heat back up."
"That too."
Max shoves at his chest half-heartedly. "You're the worst."
"You married me." Charles catches his wrists, pinning them gently against his sternum. "Bit late for complaints."
"I was clearly insane. Temporary madness. Should be annulled."
"Can't annul a mating bond, mon cœur." Charles noses into Max's neck, right over the bite mark that's never fully healed, designed to be permanent. "You're stuck with me."
The bond flares at the contact, pleasure and possession mixing until Max's protest dies in his throat. Charles' scent wraps around him, cedar-dark and alpha-thick, completely intertwined with Max's own until they smell like us instead of separate people.
Cheater, Max thinks, even as his body relaxes into the embrace. Using the bond against me.
Charles' satisfaction pulses warm through their connection. He knows exactly what he's doing.
"Let go of my wrists," Max demands, testing the grip.
"Why?"
"So I can hit you."
"That's not very good motivation for releasing you." Charles tightens his hold slightly, thumbs stroking over Max's racing pulse. "Try again."
"Charles."
"Max." His alpha grins against his throat. "You're so warm now. The temperature is perfect."
"I'm only warm because you're like a nuclear reactor." Max squirms, trying to free his hands. Charles holds firm, readjusting to press him more thoroughly into the mattress. "This is alpha bullying."
"This is thermal regulation." Charles shifts his weight, settling more completely over Max. "I'm providing a service."
"You're being a smug bastard is what you're doing." Max bucks his hips, trying to dislodge him. Charles doesn't budge. "Let me up."
"Make me."
The challenge sparks through the bond, playful and heated. Max goes still, eyes narrowing. "You're really going to make this difficult?"
"Always." Charles dips his head, pressing open-mouthed kisses along Max's jaw. "You love it when I'm difficult."
"I love it when you turn the heat up like a normal person."
"Where's the fun in that?"
Max manages to get one leg free, hooking it around Charles' waist and using leverage to try flipping them. Charles compensates immediately, laughing into Max's neck as he redistributes weight to keep him pinned. The bond floods with his alpha's delight, pleasure at Max fighting back.
"Stop enjoying this," Max grits out, still struggling.
"Can't help it." Charles catches both his wrists in one hand, freeing the other to map Max's ribs. "You're beautiful when you're annoyed with me."
"I'm always annoyed with you."
"Exactly." Charles nips at his earlobe, making Max shiver. "Beautiful."
Through the bond, Max feels Charles' genuine appreciation threading through the teasing. Affection. Desire. Bone-deep satisfaction at having Max here, warm and fighting and his. The mating mark pulses between them, carrying emotions too complex for words.
He really does think I'm beautiful when I'm being difficult, Max realizes, feeling Charles' sincerity. The absolute madman actually means it.
His annoyance softens despite himself. The bond makes lying impossible between them. Charles can feel every shift in Max's emotions, and Max can feel how much his alpha genuinely loves this, loves him, loves their ridiculous morning arguments.
"You're still not winning," Max says, but his struggling has stopped.
"I already won." Charles releases his wrists to frame Max's face instead, thumbs stroking across his cheekbones. "You're warm now."
"Only because you're smothering me."
"Exactly." Charles kisses his forehead, soft and sweet. "My master plan."
"Your plan was to freeze me awake and then force me to cuddle you for warmth?"
"Yes."
"That's deeply stupid."
"Is it working?" Charles trails kisses down Max's temple, across his cheek, along his jaw.
"No," Max lies, even as he tilts his head to give Charles better access.
Through the bond, Charles feels the lie and laughs against Max's skin. "Liar."
"Tyrant."
"Brat."
"Furnace."
"Icicle." Charles nips at Max's bottom lip. "My beautiful, freezing, difficult icicle."
Max makes an undignified sound, trying to maintain his irritation while Charles systematically kisses it away. It's deeply unfair how effective this strategy is. The bond amplifies every touch, every press of lips, until Max's defenses are completely demolished.
"This is cheating," Max complains breathlessly.
"This is marriage." Charles settles more weight on him, becoming a full-body blanket. "Also problem-solving."
"The problem being that I'm cold?"
"The problem being that you're cold and refusing to accept my perfectly good solution."
"Your solution is being a space heater."
"Exactly. Free, renewable, and environmentally friendly." Charles kisses behind his ear, right over the scent gland. "Also deeply invested in your comfort."
Max shivers, but not from cold this time. The bond flares bright between them, pleasure sparking along his nerves. "You're impossible."
"You married me anyway." Charles pulls back to look at him, green eyes soft with affection. "Twice, actually. Once legally and once with teeth."
The mating mark throbs at the reminder. Max reaches up to touch Charles' neck, finding the matching scar. Two years since Charles bit him during an intense heat, binding them permanently. Two years of scents mingling, emotions bleeding between them, becoming something that's fundamentally us instead of you and me.
"I must have been insane," Max says, but his thumb strokes gently over the mark.
"Temporarily." Charles leans into the touch, eyes fluttering half-closed. "You got better."
"Did I?" Max can feel Charles' contentment through the bond, warm and settled. "I'm still here arguing about thermostats."
"Best decision you ever made."
"Worst decision."
"You love me." Charles captures his hand, pressing a kiss to his palm. "I can feel it."
Damn the bond. Max can't even pretend otherwise when their connection broadcasts his emotions. Love, exasperation, affection, desire. All of it bleeding into Charles, unavoidable and honest.
"I love you," Max admits, because denying it is pointless. "You're still not getting away with seventeen degrees."
"Compromise?" Charles kisses his wrist, right over the scent gland, making Max's breath catch.
"I'm listening."
"Twenty degrees. Final offer."
"Twenty-two."
"Twenty-one."
Max narrows his eyes. Through the bond, he feels Charles' genuine willingness to meet halfway, mixed with hope that Max will accept. His alpha wants this settled not because he won, but because Max will be comfortable.
He really does care more about my comfort than being right, Max realizes. Even if he's being ridiculous about showing it.
"Fine," Max concedes. "Twenty-one. But if I wake up freezing again, I'm changing all your coffee to decaf."
The horror that pulses through the bond is gratifying. "You wouldn't."
"Try me."
"That's psychological warfare."
"So is thermostat sabotage."
They stare at each other for a long moment. Then Charles cracks, grinning wide and boyish. "You're terrifying."
"I'm cold-blooded. It makes me mean."
"I noticed." Charles hauls him closer, pressing kisses along his jaw, his throat, the sensitive mark on his neck. "My fierce, mean, freezing omega."
"Stop patronizing me while I'm threatening you."
"Can't help it." Another kiss, this one to his lips. "You're too cute when you're plotting revenge."
Max bites his bottom lip in retaliation. Charles groans, hips pressing forward involuntarily. Through the bond, Max feels his alpha's desire spike, hot and immediate.
"Not fair," Charles breathes against his mouth.
"Completely fair." Max hooks both legs around Charles' waist now, using the leverage to pull him closer. "You started it with your thermal warfare."
"I'm ending it with thermal comfort." Charles grinds down slowly, deliberate friction that makes them both gasp. "See? Perfect temperature now."
He's not wrong. Max's skin is flushed warm, heart rate elevated, body responding enthusiastically to his alpha's attention. The cold that woke him has been thoroughly chased away by body heat and friction and the bond singing between them.
"This doesn't mean you won," Max insists, even as his hands slide into Charles' hair.
"Of course not." Charles kisses him breathless, deep and thorough. "We're compromising."
"At twenty-one degrees."
"After I warm you up properly."
"This is just an excuse to distract me with sex."
"Is it working?"
Through the bond, Charles feels Max's answer before he says it. Desire, affection, residual annoyance mixing with arousal. The complex cocktail of emotions that means yes but I'm not admitting it.
"Maybe," Max allows, pulling Charles down into another kiss.
The thermostat argument dissolves into something more interesting. Morning sunlight spills gold across their bed as they prove that body heat sharing has benefits beyond climate control. The bond amplifies every touch, every sensation, until Max can't tell where his pleasure ends and Charles' begins.