Pete didn't move.
Didn't blink.
Just stood there, gripping the doorframe like he might rip it off the hinges.
Khaos.
The name alone sounded like a threat.
The guy had that smug, dangerous energy. Confident. Too confident.
Pete hated him instantly.
"I said—" Khaos raised an eyebrow, "—I'm here for Mek."
"Yeah?" Pete's voice was low, dangerous. "And why exactly would Mek want to see you?"
Khaos smirked. "Cute. You his guard dog now?"
Pete stepped forward, towering in the doorway. "No. I'm the man who held him all night while he tried to forget guys like you."
Boom.
The smile flickered from Khaos's lips. "You don't know me."
"I know his scars," Pete snapped. "And something tells me you helped make them."
Before things got messier, Mek appeared behind Pete—shirtless, flushed, still wrapping a blanket around himself.
"Khaos?"
Pete's jaw clenched.
The way Mek said his name. Soft. Familiar. Wary.
Mek stepped closer, voice tight. "What are you doing here?"
Khaos shrugged. "Just passing through. Thought I'd check in. See if you're still alive."
"Yeah, well, I am," Mek said. "So now you can leave."
Khaos tilted his head. "You sure? Doesn't look like this guy's got you all figured out yet."
Pete's patience snapped.
He grabbed Mek's waist and pulled him close — right in front of Khaos — one hand possessively holding his bare side, the other brushing his lips along Mek's temple.
"You're not touching him," Pete growled. "Not now. Not ever again."
Mek froze.
So did Khaos.
Pete looked down at Mek, his voice softer but laced with heat. "Tell him. Tell him you're mine."
Mek's eyes widened.
Khaos scoffed. "Seriously? You letting this guy claim you like property now?"
Pete didn't break eye contact with Mek. "I'm not claiming you like property. I'm claiming you like home."
Mek's lip trembled.
And then—
He turned to Khaos.
"I'm not the same person you left behind," Mek said, voice clear, steady. "I don't belong to you."
Khaos's expression cracked.
Mek grabbed Pete's hand.
"I'm his."
Boom.
Possessive Pete: 1. Smug Ex: 0.
Khaos looked between them, scoffed, and turned to leave. "Good luck, Mek. You'll need it."
The door slammed.
Silence.
Mek leaned into Pete's chest, letting out a shaky breath.
"You okay?" Pete asked gently.
Mek nodded. "I didn't even know I could say that. That I was yours."
Pete held him tighter.
"You've always been. Even when you didn't know it."
And then he kissed Mek again—this time not out of hunger, but out of pure, raw relief. The kind of kiss that says I will fight the whole damn world for you.