Fated Mates

64

The morning sun had barely begun to paint the room with soft golden hues when Owen’s tiny whimpering filled the silence. Pat groaned as he tried to disentangle himself from Pran’s warm, possessive embrace. His heart still raced from the lingering tension between them, and the knowledge that Pran's eyes were on him didn’t help the situation.

“Morning already?” Pran mumbled, his voice still thick with sleep, but his hand slipped up Pat's thigh with deliberate slowness, betraying his true intentions.

“Yeah, baby. And so is our son,” Pat replied, his voice tinged with both affection and exasperation as Owen’s soft cries grew more insistent.

“You should let me go before he starts bawling.” Pran’s hand tightened for a brief moment before he reluctantly let Pat slip away.

“Fine,” he said, though his gaze was still heated,

“but I’m not done with you.” Pat laughed quietly, feeling the tension in his chest loosen slightly.

“I didn’t think you were. But our boy needs his breakfast, and I’m not going to ignore him because you’re feeling frisky.”

As he reached for Owen, the baby boy reached up with his chubby hands, tiny fists clenching and unclenching as he fussed.

“Shh, it’s okay, little guy,” Pat cooed, lifting him gently and cradling him against his chest. The baby’s cries softened as he nuzzled into Pat, the warmth and familiarity of his father’s scent soothing him.

Pran, now propped up on one elbow, watched the two of them, his expression softer than it had been all morning. “You’re good with him, you know that?”

Pat smiled at the compliment, though his mind was still half-focused on getting Owen settled.

“It’s not hard when he’s this cute.” Owen made a small, contented sound, his tiny hands gripping Pat’s shirt as he calmed down. Pran’s gaze softened even more, and he couldn’t help but reach out, running his hand gently over Owen’s head.

“He really is. He looks just like you.”

“Yeah, except for those dimples,” Pat said, glancing up at Pran with a smirk.

“He’s got your dimples, no doubt about it.” Pran chuckled, but the warmth in his gaze didn’t waver.

“Guess he’s the best of both of us then, huh?”

“Something like that,” Pat replied, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to Owen’s forehead.

“Anyway, I’ll get him fed, and you can sleep a bit more if you want." Pran stretched, the pale skin glowing in the morning sun.  He caught the way Pat’s eyes followed the movement and smirked.

“Or I could stay up and keep you company. Maybe help with Owen, too.” Pat chuckled as he reached for a small blanket to drape over Owen.

“You? You’re not fooling anyone, Pran. I know you too well.” Pran shrugged, unabashed.

“Can’t blame me for wanting to spend more time with my two favorite people.”

“Smooth talker,” Pat teased as he carefully sat down on the edge of the bed with Owen in his arms. The baby boy was now fully awake, his big, bright eyes blinking up at Pat with an expression that melted his heart.

“Hey, maybe I’m just trying to make up for all the times I kept you up last night,” Pran said with a playful grin, leaning in closer. He ran a finger down Owen’s cheek, then glanced up at Pat with that familiar, mischievous glint in his eyes.

“But seriously, Pat. After breakfast, let’s head out for a bit. We could use some fresh air, and Owen could, too. Might make tonight’s fun even more worth it. I don't think my heat is coming back anytime soon.” Pat bit his lip, trying to keep the flood of memories from the night before at bay.