"...It’s fine."

He had made it himself. Of course, it was good. Neville thought.

Grayson seemed satisfied with this response. He offered another bite, and then another, each one delivered with care on Neville’s lips.

Somewhere around the third taco, Neville stopped struggling and obediently continued eating. It was easier to just accept this weird situation than to keep struggling. Besides, his stomach was genuinely grateful for the additional padding after the emotional roller coaster of the past few hours.

But as the meal progressed, he became increasingly aware of something.

Grayson’s eyes were darkening with each bite Neville took.

Not with anger.

Not with displeasure.

But with hunger.

And this hunger had nothing to do with the tacos.

"You’re not eating," Neville observed as a thread of nervousness laced his voice.

"Not hungry."

That’s a lie.

Neville could feel exactly how ’not hungry’ Grayson was. The evidence was pressing insistently against his backside despite the layers of clothing between them.

"You should eat something." Neville twisted slightly, trying to pull out his hand from the restraints to reach for a taco. "I heard that rut burns a lot of calories. You’ll exhaust yourself if you don’t—"

"I’m eating."

"No, you’re not—"

Then, Grayson suddenly leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Neville froze.

"I’m eating, aren’t I?" Grayson repeated, licking a stray bit of salsa from where it had smeared on Neville’s skin. "The best meal I’ve ever had."

Oh no.

Neville’s heart stuttered.

Oh, no

This was bad.

This was so bad.

If he remembered correctly from all those novels he had read in his past life, alphas in rut had notoriously poor control over their lower instincts. Their mentality became clouded by biological needs. It made them more primal, more possessive, more honest than they would normally allow themselves to be.

Which meant everything Grayson was doing right now. Those touching, feeding, and hungry looks were real and unfiltered danger for an omega like him.

Neville swallowed hard and tried to ignore the way Grayson’s thumb was tracing idle patterns on his hip.

He was not sure how go about this; his knowledge was purely ABO theory that he and Hana came up with after reading lots and lots of BL stuff. Surely, one or two of them could be the right answer, right?

Neville bought time by chewing slowly.

Based on his observations and Shelly’s additional nonsense, there was an additional restraint in this interstellar era that prevented AOs from going rampant like other ABO worlds.

He still didn’t know what it was, but it was the thing that was maintaining Grayson’s ’rationality’ and ’clarity’. Even if he was being clingy, handsy, and possessive as heck, Grayson was still not locking him up in a room nor pumping him with his seed.

Besides, with his estrus period not getting away with his decision-making, he already had the upper hand in this situation. If he played this well, he could potentially save his chrysanthemum from being deflowered wild and roughly at worst.

Realizing this was particularly comforting for Neville.

Soon, Grayson was offering him another bite.

Neville accepted it mechanically, too lost in his own thoughts.

Grayson watched him with those dark, hungry eyes, drinking in his every expression like a man dying of thirst who had finally found an oasis.

I am so screwed.

The meal continued in tense silence.

Grayson seemed perfectly content with the arrangement, occasionally pressing kisses to Neville’s shoulder or the curve of his neck between bites.

Each touch sent little sparks racing across Neville’s skin.

Each kiss made his heart beat a little faster.

Each one of them was getting closer and closer to his secondary gland but not quite touching it, which made him incredibly nervous each time.

By the time the tacos were finished and the lemonade drained, Neville felt like he had run a marathon. Every muscle in his body was tense with awareness, hyperaware to every change on Grayson’s body against his back.

"Good." Grayson’s voice rumbled against his ear, satisfied and warm. "You finished everything."

"Yes, well..." Neville said with a slightly bitter tone. "It’s hard to refuse when someone is feeding you."

"Mm."

The noncommittal sound could have meant anything, and Neville had no idea what it was.

"I should clean up—" Neville tried to stand, but the tail on his ankles tightened.

"Later."

"Mr. Maxwell—"

"Grayson."

"Grayson." The name felt strangely intimate as it rolled smoothly on his tongue. "I need to clean the kitchen. And contact the company. And—"

"Later."

Before Neville could protest further, Grayson stood up, lifting Neville with him as if he weighed nothing. Then, he began walking toward the living room.

"Put me down!"

"No."

"This is—I can walk!"

"This is faster."

Neville opened his mouth to argue, then closed it again.

The man had a point.

But it was an unacceptable point.

When they reached the couch, Grayson gently lay him down on the soft couch against the cushions. For one hopeful moment, Neville thought that Grayson might finally give him some space and time to breathe.

But that hope died when Grayson immediately settled beside him and pulled him back against his chest in a half-embrace. His head was resting on his chest, hearing his heart beat, and enveloped in his warmth. One of his hands was intertwined with Grayson’s other hand.

The position was incredibly comfortable to say the least, picturesque even. But it was also incredibly tempting. The couch was large enough to accommodate them both with more room to spare.

Grayson’s tail had relaxed its grip, now draped lazily across his legs in an almost affectionate gesture.

If he ignored the circumstances, everything else, this might’ve been... a nice cozy moment, even intimate and lovely.

Grayson’s fingers had found their way to his hair, sliding through the hazel-brown strands gently. The touch was soothing in spite of everything, massaging down to his nape.

His pleased reaction made Grayson’s eyes darken without Neville’s knowledge.

Grayson leaned down and kissed the top of his hair.

Then, his forehead.

Then, lifted Neville’s head slightly, kissing one of his eyes.

Then, his nose.

Then, his lips for a single peck.

The affectionate gesture stunned Neville.

Grayson looked more pleased than ever.