Chapter 111: Technicalities

Chapter 111: Chapter 111: Technicalities

"What I’m trying to say is that sex can happen without penetration."

Sebastian groaned dramatically and opened the door to the wardrobe section, refusing to dignify that with an answer.

Behind him, Nero laughed.

Sebastian knew perfectly well that the enigma was no longer attempting to negotiate anything.

Ten minutes earlier, inside the medical suite, Nero had been serious enough that even Roberta stopped mocking him. He had listened to every explanation about Sebastian’s increasing omega markers, asked whether the acceleration remained within safe limits, checked twice that the soreness was ordinary rather than evidence of injury, and only relaxed once Claude confirmed there was no inflammatory response or renewed instability.

The teasing had started afterward.

Sebastian suspected he knew why.

For six months, almost every change in his body had come attached to a warning, another examination, another possibility of something going wrong. Even good developments tended to produce three follow-up scans and a physician reminding him that nobody knew exactly what an enigma converting a dominant alpha would eventually create.

Today, Roberta had looked at the numbers and smiled.

Nero apparently intended to make certain Sebastian remembered that part.

"Roberta said intimacy was beneficial," Nero continued as he followed him into the dressing room.

"She said the transition responded well."

"Which is considerably better than everything exploding."

"That is a very low medical standard."

"It has been a difficult six months."

Sebastian glanced at him.

Nero was smiling, but there was no heat behind it now, no attempt to steer Sebastian back toward the bed. His long white-blond hair had been loosely gathered at the nape after the examination, and he had changed into charcoal trousers and a cream shirt with the collar left open, looking much more respectable than anything he had said during the last five minutes deserved.

Sebastian reached for a white shirt.

"You’re enjoying yourself."

"Immensely."

"Because Roberta essentially encouraged you."

Nero came closer and took the shirt from him before Sebastian could put it on himself.

"No."

The answer was quiet enough that Sebastian looked at him properly.

Nero held the shirt open for him.

"I’m enjoying myself because you spent months wondering whether every new thing your body did meant something was going wrong, and today the physicians told you it is doing exactly what it should."

Sebastian slid his arms into the sleeves.

Nero drew the fabric over his shoulders and smoothed it down with unnecessary care.

"And," Nero added, his mouth curving again, "because annoying you is considerably more entertaining when you are healthy enough to threaten me."

Sebastian laughed.

There it was.

That was what Nero wanted.

Not another round in bed.

The laugh.

Sebastian shook his head while fastening the first buttons.

"You’re still unbearable."

"Yes, but you look less worried."

Sebastian’s hands paused.

Nero noticed, though he did not say anything else about it.

Instead, he reached past Sebastian for the jacket hanging inside the wardrobe and held it up.

"Wear this."

"You’ve become very domestic overnight."

"I have always had excellent taste."

"That was not what I said."

"It was the important part."

Sebastian allowed Nero to help him into the jacket, then stood still while the enigma adjusted the shoulders and straightened the collar with the concentration of someone preparing Sebastian for a state appearance rather than a meeting with his own parents.

The private communicator chimed from the dressing table.

Nero glanced over.

"Idris."

Sebastian smiled. "Jax."

"Almost certainly."

Nero accepted the audio call.

"Yes?"

Idris’s composed voice came through immediately.

"Your Highness, I require authorization for one of Prince Jax’s selections from the second gift list."

Nero leaned against the edge of the dressing table.

"What did he choose?"

"The Veyron House chronograph."

Nero went silent.

Sebastian looked at him.

"That sounds expensive."

"It is."

Idris supplied the value.

Sebastian stopped adjusting his cuff.

"That was on the second list?"

"You already own two pieces from the collection," Idris explained, "and the item had been cleared for redistribution because you indicated no interest in retaining another."

Nero rubbed a hand over his jaw.

"Of course he found it."

Sebastian laughed softly.

"You told him he could choose anything."

"I expected headphones."

"You underestimated your brother."

"I underestimated his commitment to maximizing return."

Idris continued, "He would like confirmation that the transfer is immediate."

Nero stared at the communicator for another moment before sighing.

"Authorize it."

"Very well."

"And if he sells it, I am taking the money."

Sebastian smiled.

Idris, unsurprisingly, did not react. "I will inform him."

The call ended.

Nero set the device down.

Sebastian folded his arms.

"You sound proud."

"I’m considering whether opportunism should be encouraged."

"He is your brother."

"That explains the problem."

Sebastian laughed again.

Nero looked at him then, and the satisfaction in his expression softened into something warmer.

Sebastian caught it.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"That is never true."

Nero crossed the small distance between them and straightened Sebastian’s already perfectly straight cuff.

"I like hearing you laugh today."

The simple statement took some of the humor out of Sebastian’s face.

Nero did not press.

He simply brushed his thumb once over Sebastian’s wrist before letting go.

The meeting with Lucas and Trevor was approaching, and with it the discussion about staff, his duties as Marquis and heir, the work waiting for him outside the medical bubble that had swallowed half a year of his life.

And perhaps Lucas.

Perhaps the visions.

Perhaps, eventually, Nero.

Sebastian exhaled.

Nero watched him but deliberately shifted his attention toward the clock instead.

"We have twelve minutes."

"You’re not going to ask what I’m thinking?"

"I know you’ll tell me when you’re ready."

Sebastian looked at him.

That, more than the teasing, eased something tight in his chest.

Nero offered his hand.

Sebastian took it.

"Come on," Nero said. "Your parents are probably already discussing how much work they are allowed to give you before I become difficult."

Sebastian’s mouth curved.

"You become difficult recreationally."

"Yes," Nero said, guiding him toward the door. "But now I have medical confirmation that you can survive it."