The sunlight filtered softly through the curtains, brushing the warm tones of Kaein's apartment. The scent of wisteria lingered faintly in the air, mingling with something more domestic: coffee, the faint smell of toast, and the subtle musk of pheromones that clung gently to the spaces where Lior had passed earlier. For the first time since their permanent marking, the apartment felt entirely theirs, unbroken and alive with the rhythm of ordinary life.
Kaein stood at the stove, stirring eggs slowly, almost meditatively. Lior moved behind him, wrapping an arm around Kaein's waist and pressing a light kiss to his shoulder. "Smells good," he murmured, voice low and warm, almost teasing. The brush of his lips sent a shiver down Kaein's spine, a subtle reminder of the bond now etched into their very beings.
"You didn't even taste it yet," Kaein replied, fingers brushing against Lior's in the quiet intimacy of the kitchen. His voice was soft, reflective, carrying the ease of trust and comfort that had grown exponentially in the days after their marking.
"I know," Lior whispered, pressing a gentle nuzzle to the back of Kaein's neck. "But just watching you… makes me hungry."
Kaein chuckled softly, shaking his head, and for a brief moment, time seemed to slow. The apartment was still, save for the quiet hum of the refrigerator and the faint scurry of paws across the wooden floor. Witty, their newly adopted white cat, had discovered a sunbeam and was sprawled across it, rolling lazily and stretching with perfect feline grace. Lior crouched to scratch behind Witty's ears, murmuring praises to the small creature. "You're my little shadow too, huh?"
Witty responded with a soft purr, arching into Lior's touch before scampering over to Kaein's feet, brushing his legs with an affectionate rub. "I think he likes you more," Kaein said, watching the small white form curl around his ankles.
"Impossible," Lior said, lifting Kaein's foot gently and pressing a soft kiss to his toes. "He's mine. You'll have to fight me for him."
Kaein laughed, the sound warm and full in the quiet apartment. He turned, catching Lior's gaze, and the look they shared was electric in its familiarity—soft, intimate, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that tethered them together. "I'd never fight you," Kaein admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "We're… good this way."
They moved seamlessly together, a well-practiced dance of domesticity. Kaein plated the eggs, and Lior poured coffee, their movements synchronized as if choreographed over weeks of habit. Witty meandered between their feet, occasionally batting at the hem of Kaein's pajama pants, reminding them of the little household they were now fully building together.
Later, Lior suggested they tackle some laundry. Kaein found himself laughing as Lior wrestled with a fitted sheet, tugging and spinning with more energy than grace, until the sheet finally snapped into place with a triumphant flourish. "See? Perfect," Lior declared, catching Kaein's amused gaze.
"Perfectly chaotic," Kaein teased, stepping closer, fingers brushing Lior's arm as he passed. The contact sent a familiar, heady warmth through both of them, a subtle but constant reminder of their entwined pheromones, the gentle dominance and submission balanced perfectly between them.
When the chores were done, they settled on the couch together. Lior draped an arm across Kaein's shoulders, the warmth of his body pressing against him, his presence steady and grounding. Kaein rested his head lightly on Lior's chest, listening to the rhythmic beat of his heart. It was a quiet moment, almost sacred, but heavy with unspoken promises.
"You know," Kaein said, voice soft, tracing a finger along Lior's collarbone, "I could get used to this. Just… ordinary days, with you."
Lior smiled down at him, lips brushing the top of Kaein's hair. "We are ordinary… in the best way," he murmured. "Even with pheromones, marking, and every complication, ordinary feels like home when you're here."
The afternoon stretched lazily. They cooked together, cleaned together, and occasionally paused to kiss—light, tender presses of lips, soft nibbles along the jawline, whispered murmurs that felt intimate yet unhurried. Witty made these moments livelier, jumping across the couch, batting at a sleeve, or curling into Kaein's lap with a soft purr that seemed to echo contentment.
At one point, Lior leaned over, capturing Kaein's lips in a lingering kiss that deepened gradually. Their hands roamed gently, exploring familiar contours, reaffirming the bond that had become permanent just weeks before. "You taste like home," Lior whispered against Kaein's lips, voice husky.
"And you feel like safety," Kaein replied, pressing closer, letting the warmth of his Lunar partner wash over him. Their kiss softened, then grew tender, exploratory—a shared ritual of touch and scent, pheromones mingling in the quiet air, grounding them in the present moment.
Evening came. They moved to the bedroom, Witty curling into a corner of the bed, tail flicking lazily as he observed their gentle intimacy. Kaein leaned into Lior, letting his hand rest lightly over the curve of Lior's side. Lior's fingers threaded through Kaein's hair, pulling him down for another kiss, slow and tender.
"You're mine," Lior murmured, the words low, intimate, more promise than claim.
"And you're mine," Kaein replied, voice breathless, letting himself melt into the closeness, the quiet dominance of Lior's presence.
The night unfolded with gentle touches, soft moans, whispered names. Nothing rushed, nothing forced—only a careful, mutual exploration of closeness, of trust, of the quiet fire of pheromones and permanent marking that bound them together. Each kiss, each gentle caress, was a reaffirmation of their bond, a reminder of the life they were building.
Morning arrived with the soft wash of sunlight across the sheets. Kaein stirred first, tracing a hand along Lior's arm, feeling the warmth and subtle strength in every movement. Lior's eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, the world outside seemed irrelevant.
"You awake?" Kaein murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the back of Lior's hand.
"Always," Lior replied, voice husky, a playful smile tugging at his lips. He rolled closer, forehead resting against Kaein's, eyes searching. "I could stay like this forever, you know."
Kaein laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair from Lior's face. "Me too," he admitted, heart full. "But we should probably feed Witty before he climbs the ceiling."
Witty mewed at the sound of his name, padding over to the edge of the bed with delicate, silent steps. Lior chuckled, nuzzling Kaein before moving to gather the cat. The morning was filled with warmth: breakfast together, gentle teasing, laughter, kisses stolen between sips of coffee.
Later, as Kaein prepared to leave for a seminar at another university, they packed a single suitcase together. Lior's hand lingered on Kaein's hip, pressing him closer. "You'll come back to me, right?"
"Every chance I get," Kaein replied, voice soft. "And I'll text you constantly."
"You better," Lior said, a playful yet possessive edge in his tone, eyes darkening slightly. "I don't care about your students or lectures—I need you."
Kaein smiled, leaning into the embrace, letting the warmth of their skin and the soft hum of their pheromones reassure him. "You already have me," he whispered, pressing a kiss to Lior's jaw.
The day moved forward in a rhythm of ordinary tasks, yet threaded with the intimacy of permanent marking, the ease of domesticity, and the unspoken connection that tied them together. Every glance, every brush of hands, every shared smile reminded them—and the reader—that even in small moments, love, trust, and desire could coexist, grounded in the shared rhythms of home and life.
And as Kaein stepped onto the train, suitcase in hand, Lior's eyes followed him until he disappeared from view. The air seemed heavier, laced with anticipation and the subtle tension of pheromones, a reminder that Lunar day was approaching, and with it, the next chapter of their entwined life.
In the quiet apartment, Witty purred softly between them, curled into the warmth of the space that had become their sanctuary. The scent of both men lingered, a promise and a tether, an invisible thread that bound the past, present, and future together. And as the city hummed outside, both hearts beat in tandem, anticipating the closeness yet to come, the tender, passionate days ahead, and the inevitability of Lunar preview marking that would draw them even deeper into each other's orbit.