[BL]Reborn as the Empire's Most Desired Omega Chapter 239: Work

Lucas set his coffee down, fingers moving over the keyboard with the sharp, precise rhythm of soone who actually wanted to clear their inbox before the century turned. The archive room stayed blessedly quiet except for the occasional creak of the old floorboards and the whisper of Trevor’s thumbs idly brushing his shoulders in so unspoken truce.

Email one: replied.

Email two: forwarded with an annotated note for the legal team.

Email three: rewritten entirely because apparently so dukes believed that "respectfully" could coexist with the word "idiot" in diplomatic correspondence.

Trevor didn’t comnt.

He leaned back against the arm of the chair, his warmth behind Lucas more a presence than a distraction now, eyes scanning the laptop screen over his husband’s shoulder without crowding.

It was peaceful.

Suspiciously peaceful.

Lucas was halfway through typing, "As per our prior agreent," when Trevor’s hand stilled on his shoulder.

The shift was subtle, so subtle most people wouldn’t have noticed, but Lucas had known Trevor too long not to feel the way the air changed. Playfulness edged out. The lazy, languid heat he carried with him cooled into sothing quieter, heavier.

Trevor didn’t speak.

He just kept staring at the screen.

Lucas followed his gaze.

An unread email, flagged as important but pushed down by earlier threads. The sender’s na was a little too familiar.

Vivienne.

Not the old address Trevor had already blacklisted. A new one. Hidden under so innocuous personal domain, the kind you’d use if you wanted to slip under radar.

Lucas didn’t open it, but the preview was enough, clinical politeness masking a proprietary edge, laced with far too much interest in his biology.

"...She’s persistent," Lucas muttered, trying for dry and unbothered, but Trevor still hadn’t moved.

He was no longer the man who had climbed a wall to steal a kiss. His expression was unreadable, gaze fixed on the line of text like it was a threat written in blood.

Lucas sipped his coffee. "You’re going to say sothing."

"No," Trevor said finally, his voice low enough to vibrate against the back of Lucas’s neck. "Not yet."

Which was worse.

"Trevor..." He said warningly.

Trevor’s mouth curved, slow and easy, like nothing in the world was wrong. "What? I’m just appreciating the view."

Lucas didn’t buy it for a second. He went back to typing, eyes on the screen, waiting for the inevitable, because Trevor was not a man who let anything go, least of all this.

Behind him, Trevor shifted just enough to rest his chin on Lucas’s shoulder again, all warm breath and idle affection, the kind that was designed to look harmless while it hid the weight of sothing sharper.

"I could forward it to the archives," Trevor said casually, as if he were talking about the weather. "Or to the recycling bin. They’re very similar folders in practice."

Lucas didn’t look at him. "You’re not deleting official correspondence."

"I wouldn’t dream of it," Trevor said, with the tone of a man who had absolutely dread of it. "But you know... so ssages get lost. Happens to the best of servers."

Lucas finished his sentence, hit send, and opened the next email without acknowledging him. "If you’re fishing for permission, you’re not getting it."

"Fishing? No." Trevor’s smile was audible now. "Just enjoying our quiet ti together. You, , coffee, and a diplomatic incident in the making."

Lucas’s fingers paused for only half a second before resuming their precise rhythm. "If you’re planning sothing, keep it to yourself."

"Oh, I will," Trevor murmured, the words warm against his ear, too close, too soft. "I’m very good at keeping things to myself."

Trevor didn’t move away after that. If anything, he folded himself in closer, his arms looping loosely around Lucas’s waist until the subtle press of his chest made the chair feel smaller.

Lucas tried to keep typing. He really did. But then Trevor’s hands slid lower, coaxing rather than pulling, guiding until Lucas was half-turned and, before he could protest, he was lifted neatly into Trevor’s lap like the laptop wasn’t between them and a diplomatic backlog wasn’t breathing down his neck.

"You’re insufferable," Lucas muttered, but he didn’t get up.

Trevor didn’t answer. Instead, his breath brushed over Lucas’s cheek, carrying the faint, familiar pull of his pheromones, warm, spiced heat, like the first sip of mulled wine in winter, curling low in the lungs. He pressed a kiss to Lucas’s temple first, slow and gentle, then ghosted another along the corner of his mouth, a teasing promise rather than a claim. When Lucas finally turned to glare at him, Trevor’s mouth t his fully.

It wasn’t rushed. No, Trevor kissed him like there was all the ti in the world, mouth deepening by incrents, coaxing him to soften, to yield. Lucas caught the faint taste of coffee on his tongue, bitter and rich against the warmth of Trevor’s mouth, layered with the dark intent of his desire. The air between them thickened, pheromones bleeding into it until every inhale felt heavier, hotter. Trevor’s hand cradled the back of his neck, fingertips pressing just enough to remind him who was steering, and Lucas hated that it made his toes curl inside his shoes.

When Trevor finally drew back, Lucas’s breath caught against his will, the last thread of warmth breaking only when Trevor’s lips left his.

"Better than email," Trevor murmured, brushing his thumb along Lucas’s jaw, his voice low enough to hum in Lucas’s chest. Then, as if nothing had happened, he set Lucas gently back into the chair, straightened his shirt with all the gravity of a man preparing for a council session, and stood.

"Where are you going?" Lucas asked suspiciously, ignoring how flushed he was from the kiss.

Trevor’s smile was light, almost careless. "Work."

Which, coming from Trevor, was never as innocent as it sounded.

And then he was gone, leaving Lucas with a half-finished reply, the taste of coffee and Trevor still lingering on his tongue, and the absolute certainty that whatever "work" ant this ti, it had everything to do with Vivienne.