Emergency C-sections were never fun. They were even less fun with complications, late at night, after an exhausting evening of dancing, with just one vet tech to assist him and a worried keeper hovering around like he was giving birth himself.

But the mother and baby lived, and that was all that mattered. New life in the world. New beginnings. It made Blane smile.

His eyes were heavy, his hands still shaky with the adrenaline he’d carefully compartmentalized to display a calm and in-control attitude for the benefit of everyone round. He barely remembered stumbling to the back for his phone and car keys.

But he sure as hell remembered his screen lighting up with a photo of the guy he’d been seconds away from asking out, and that guy’s douchebag ex-boyfriend.

Getting way, way too close.

He wanted to drop his phone, or better yet, fling it—hurl it back into the locker, whether or not it cracked.

It’s not like him. But then, you barely know him. Why the fuck did you let yourself fall in love first?

Blane knew it was unreasonable to expect himself not to feel what he had since the moment they met, but he didn’t care. It was way too late and he was way too tired to be logical about it.

Hell, for a dark minute, he wished Spencer had been on his operating table.

But what if Spencer makes him happy?

He made himself wait until he was in his car to answer. The parking lot was silent and empty, and nobody could hear his breath tighten and choke in his throat.

His first concern was sobriety and safety. If Spencer had gotten him drunk, or God forbid, drugged him… he would hunt that man to the end of the earth. But the awful possibility that Falcon was just drunk enough to do what he really wanted… it wouldn’t leave Blane’s head.

So he composed a message, his hands shaking, trying not to let on how badly it hurt.

Are you sober enough? Safe? Happy?

As much as his heart was breaking, and as much as this had come like a bolt out of the blue, these things happened. Chemistry reignited. Sparks flew. It was normal. Normal. It happened all the time.

His thoughts were erratic now, his hand clenching so tightly his nails bit into his palm like tiny scalpels.

Fuck normal. Fuck anyone who tried to tell him Falcon didn’t love him. He’d seen the look on Falcon’s face when he saw Spencer. There was no love there, even deep inside. There wasn’t even enough hatred to turn into one wild night of no-holds-barred passion.

But what if he’d missed the signs? What if the offer was real?

He had to treat it like the truth until he found out otherwise. The evidence stacked up: it sounded like Falcon’s typing. It was sure as hell a picture of Falcon, and it was from Falcon’s number. Falcon had a lock on his phone—who didn’t these days? And Falcon had been drinking. Alcohol made people do stupid things.

So Blane carefully typed out one more text, back-spacing when his blurry vision made him hit the wrong letter.

I can’t. You must know why by now. Please don’t break my heart.

He couldn’t bring himself to believe it was real, but it also made sense in a fucked-up kind of way.

Nothing ever worked out for him. He should have known better than to fall for a guy so fast, trust him so much. After all, the whole goddamn wedding was supposedly a sham.

But it didn’t feel like one until now, he argued with himself.

Blane slammed the steering wheel with his fists, and as quickly as that, the anger bled out of him. He rested his forehead on the wheel until he could think straight enough to drive. All he had to worry about at first was getting home.

Tomorrow morning would come. And so would the truth. And, if he had to, Blane would walk away and wait for a better man.

But his heart told him the truth: Falcon was it. Falcon was the one he wanted. Falcon was the one right now pressed against some slimeball who wanted a pretty trophy boy, who didn’t see his sweet heart and his clever brain and his compassion and insight and…

Don’t. Blane choked back the thoughts and focused on driving. Start the car. Shoulder checks. Buckle up.

Routine took over.

Routine took him home through suburbia.

Routine kept him from running any red lights, late as it was.

But routine didn’t tell him what to do when he pulled up in his driveway and found a man sitting on his porch, head in his hands.

Every thought Blane had tucked away came roaring back until his hands shook as he climbed out of the car. “Falcon?”

“It wasn’t me.” The man’s voice cracked, and Blane strode for him to comfort him before he even thought twice about it. Falcon couldn’t meet his eyes, but his hands were wringing one another.

Blane took him by the shoulder and pulled him to his feet, his voice low and urgent. He didn’t care that they were on his front porch, within earshot of the neighbors. The night pressed around them, claustrophobic even in the open air. “Did he hurt you? Falcon. Please tell me. It’s not your fault.” If he did…

Falcon jerkily shook his head. “I fell asleep for a minute. I woke up with his head… with that photo. At the tent. At the wedding!” He held fistfuls of Blane’s shirt, but he was upright now, stone-cold sober and desperate. “I never left with him, he stole my phone and texted, please believe me.”

Of course he did. Blane blinked a few times, then pulled Falcon in to hug him tightly. “Of course… of course I do!”

“You… do?” Falcon’s voice was faint.

Blane pulled back and studied his face, then took him silently by the arm to lead him into the house. “Come in. You look like you’re in shock.”

Falcon laughed under his breath. “You’re going all hot zoo vet on me, aren’t you?”

“I can’t help it.” The relief that overwhelmed Blane made him laugh, even if the sound was strange to his own ears. “I’m just… just glad.”

Falcon sank onto the sofa next to him, and leaned into his chest immediately, pressing his face into Blane’s neck. Like Spencer had held him.

Blane’s lip curled. “So, you fell asleep, he took a photo, and texted me a bunch of lies? To try to get between us?”

Falcon’s voice choked. “Yes. Shit. God. When you put it that way… I’m so stupid. I should have texted, or anything… but I didn’t think you’d believe me if it’s not face-to-face…”

More than anything else, Blane’s mental alarm bells were going off now, but he stayed calm and kept his arms lightly around Falcon’s shoulders. “Because he wouldn’t have believed you, back when you dated?”

Falcon went still for a minute, and then the tension seemed to bleed out of him. “You’re right. Shit. He’d get jealous of my high school friends, even though he didn’t want to be with me… He wanted the best of all worlds.” He drew a breath and let it out. “It brought all that back. I thought I didn’t care about him or any of that.”

Blane kissed the top of his head. “Once someone’s mistreated an animal in my care, it takes a long time to build up trust again. I have animals who will sit up and stay still when I vaccinate them, and I have animals who are terrified of me looking at them.”

Falcon chuckled. “You have any falcons who panic and flap around like idiots?”

“No. But I have falcons who react completely appropriately given the way people have treated them,” Blane murmured and hugged him tighter. “It would have all come out in the morning, but… I’m so glad you came to me tonight.”

“Mmm.”

Falcon was so much braver than he knew, and that was just the cherry on top of the ice cream sundae. Blane wanted it all. “Hon? I liked tonight. Let’s forget about this last hour of bullshit, huh?”

Falcon nodded immediately, his hands resting on Blane’s arm and thigh now as he relaxed in Blane’s hold. “Yeah. Yeah, tonight was perfect.”

“Almost perfect,” Blane murmured.

Falcon was looking at him now, that desperate yet fearful look gone. Blane no longer wanted to put Spencer through a wall. Or at least, he could wait until tomorrow to do that. “Why?”

“I want us to be a real thing.”

Falcon was smiling now, but trying to hide it. “You mean…?”

“Yeah, I mean,” Blane echoed, scratching his back lightly. “If you want me.”

“Of course I want you, you idiot,” Falcon exclaimed, straightening up indignantly. “Why else would I be here?”

Blane laughed loudly. “Oh, I’m not allowed a moment of insecurity?”

That made Falcon grin back at him. “You wouldn’t let me get away with it.”

“I won’t let you get away with anything,” Blane murmured with a wink. “Not my gorgeous boyfriend.”

Falcon flushed and grinned and squirmed against him, all at the same time, and it was probably the cutest thing Blane had ever seen him do.

“You looked hot tonight, by the way,” Blane added, walking his fingers down Falcon’s chest. “In your suit and tie.”

“Matching you.”

“Matching me. No wonder that asshole was jealous.” Blane stopped to hook his finger through Falcon’s belt. “We’re too good together.”

“Too good to be true?” Falcon murmured.

It hit Blane in the heart, but he stopped, then shook his head. “I thought that, until now. Or I would have asked you weeks ago.”

“Doesn’t matter. We’re here now, together, and that asshole just… well. He just did the opposite of what he wanted.” Falcon smiled at him, mischievous and smug. “So, take me to bed.”

Blane growled playfully as he swept Falcon into his arms. “Oh, I will.”

He didn’t want an ounce of the pain they’d just been through to bother them in the morning. Wedding nights were for lovers, and they were going to make it a hell of a memorable one for all the right reasons.

The exhaustion was almost forgotten with the excitement rushing through him now. This was a much more productive outlet for his adrenaline than sitting in his car worrying about a future alone and untrusting.

He hardly wanted to let Falcon go, but he had to set the man on the bed so they could start tearing the clothes off each other’s bodies.

Blane hadn’t bothered putting his tie back on after work, but Falcon wasn’t taking his time with the buttons on his shirt. He, meanwhile, had more clothes to deal with, because Falcon was still immaculately dressed from the wedding.

“Motherfucking layers,” Blane groused when he finally had his boyfriend shirtless under him.

Falcon chuckled. “That’s what makes suits hot, and you know it.”

“And now I have to deal with these pants?” Blane gestured. “Ridiculous.”

“I know,” Falcon grinned. “Pants should be illegal. Then I could see your hot ass a lot more.”

“We can make them illegal in our household.”

Falcon raised his brow. “Our household?”

Oh, that does sound a little… Blane cleared his throat. “You know. A house. When we’re both in it. And, eventually, when we live together?”

“Good answer.” Falcon leaned up to kiss him. “I want that. Now keep taking my pants off before I jizz in them.”

Blane grinned. He slid his hands along Falcon’s arms until their fingers laced, pressing his hands to the bed as he leaned down to kiss Falcon hard.

Their tongues slid wildly along each other, lips claiming and clashing rather than gently sliding. Sweet and slow could come later. They needed it hard, dirty, and now.

Blane kissed Falcon’s throat, and slowly worked down the center of his body toward his belt, making his lover squirm by focusing on his nipples for as long as he could stand it.

When he finally let go of Falcon’s hands, face at crotch-level, his hands slid to Falcon’s groin. He cupped the hardness through thin fabric, rubbing with the heel of his hand until Falcon writhed.

“Don’t you fucking tease me,” Falcon growled.

The animalistic need awoke the same in Blane, who growled right back, “I won’t waste a minute. I want you spread-eagled and moaning for every inch of my cock.”

Blane could take away every bad thing for a few minutes, make their whole world narrow to the two of them, and his head spun with how much he wanted to.

“Yes,” Falcon panted, helping Blane shove the fabric down and pull it off his legs to leave him naked. “Oh, Jesus, yes. Fuck me, Blane. Show me who my boyfriend is.”

Blane stripped himself as fast as he could, then shoved their clothes aside with a sweep of his arm and pushed Falcon’s legs up over his shoulders.

“Oh my God, are—yes!” Falcon groaned when Blane interrupted him by running his tongue around that tight little hole.

Blane kissed and sucked around it, bending Falcon in two and pressing his knees to his chest. The better access he had, the more he could run his tongue along sensitive nerves, watching as Falcon squeezed in little involuntary twitches of pleasure.

And the noises Falcon made—loose and unrestrained whimpers, moans, grunts of pleasure—made Blane throb for him. He desperately wanted to be inside the wet, ready opening.

He let Falcon have a minute with his own two fingers inside himself, watching those delicate hands at work. Then, Blane playfully sucked on his pinky.

“You motherfucking… if that’s not a tease,” Falcon gasped.

“No. This is.” Blane sucked the tip of Falcon’s cock into his mouth, smirking as Falcon pushed into him and jolted, shuddering with need. Falcon’s cock hit the back of his throat and he swallowed, sucking hard and mercilessly for a few seconds.

Then he pulled Falcon’s hand out and away and pulled his own mouth off that velvety, hard shaft. He left Falcon wet and empty and whimpering for more, but not for long.

When Blane grabbed the condom, Falcon grabbed his hand. “You get tested?”

“Of course,” Blane murmured. “You?”

“Mmhmm.” Falcon grinned. “Such a responsible man. If it’s just us, let’s not.”

Blane smiled at him and tossed the condom aside again. “It’s just us.” He pressed the tip of his dick against Falcon, and sank inside easily, past the rings of tight muscle. His hands returned to the backs of Falcon’s knees to hold him down while he slid in, feeling the sensation build inch by inch.

“Yes yes yes,” Falcon gasped, his own hands closing around his knees, nails biting into skin to leave little white marks.

Blane slid his hands away from Falcon’s legs and instead cupped his cheek, then his cock. “Fucking gorgeous. All of you. Head to toe. I need you.”

“You’ve got me,” Falcon whispered, tightening around Blane, locking their bodies together for a few seconds before he relaxed. “Fuck me hard, baby. I need you.”

Blane shifted his weight to his knees and braced himself on the headboard above Falcon, angling his hips so he could drive in as deep as possible with every single thrust.

The bed rattled under them, and he didn’t care. This was the meaning of fucking—this raw, electric-edged current of pleasure that ran under his skin, igniting his brain and body at once with energy he hadn’t even known he’d had left in him tonight.

With every thrust, he pushed deep into Falcon. The grunts and moans spilling through the air came from both of them now. Skin on skin, hot and sweating, it was hard to tell where they began and ended, especially when he pulled Falcon’s legs over his shoulders so Falcon’s hands were free to tangle in the back of his hair.

“I love you,” Falcon breathed out. “I fuckin’ do. And I don’t care who knows it.”

Blane grinned and ran his hand down to Falcon’s cock. “Is that the sex talking? Do you love me more now?”

“Mmm!” Falcon writhed for a few moments and panted for breath when Blane started stroking him, even with a limited range between their bodies. “No, but yes!”

“Good. Because I love you too,” Blane whispered, letting go of the headboard to cup Falcon’s cheek. “And I wanna make you come so hard you forget your own name.”

Falcon’s lips parted, his hazy eyes focusing on Blane’s for a few moments. “W-Well… I’m almost… there,” he whispered. Every stroke of Blane’s hand, every pump of his cock into him, made Falcon clench around him and twitch, his body tightening.

“That’s it, baby,” Blane moaned, captivated by every expression across his face. Falcon was wracked with pleasure, and Blane wanted to see that look on his face every goddamn day.

Seeing every one of Falcon’s reactions made him burn with need, his own body tight and throbbing. It was all he could do to hold back from the few more sharp, erratic thrusts he needed and keep them deep, rubbing against the spot inside Falcon and the length outside at the same time.

Until Falcon arched his back, his chest pushing up against Blane’s as he gasped for breath. He might not remember his own name, but Blane’s name poured out like a prayer and a curse word all in one. Wet warmth coated his stomach and Blane’s hand, and he squeezed Blane’s sensitive length inside him like he never wanted to let it go.

Blane let go of Falcon and grabbed the bed to fuck him hard and fast. And then he was there, blackness teasing the edges of his vision from his sheer focus on the tight, warm, loving body he was inside. A groan echoed from his chest as Falcon rubbed his neck and back. His legs still draped over Blane’s shoulders as Blane’s pace finally slowed.

“Oh, fuck,” Blane managed after a few moments of catching his breath. He was still deep inside Falcon, his cock half-hard and softening as stickiness from passion and sweat coated them both. “You okay?”

“Never been better,” Falcon whispered, his legs opening and sliding off Blane’s shoulders so he lay spread-eagled on the bed.

Blane nestled between his thighs and let his weight rest on Falcon, cupping his cheeks. “You’re… beautiful.”

“Shut up and let me breathe,” Falcon whispered, but his lips twitched into a smile.

Blane managed a laugh. “No. I’ll tell you you’re beautiful ’til the cows come home.”

“I’m sure it’s significantly earlier than this,” Falcon mumbled. “You’re the vet. You oughta know that.”

Blane laughed, and suddenly he couldn’t stop laughing. Falcon’s melodic voice joined him, his arms wrapped around Blane, and they were laughing together about nothing important, but everything, too.

Exhausted, but together. That was all that mattered. Blane’s hand took Falcon’s, their fingers slid into the gaps between each other’s, and Falcon didn’t pull back.

Finally, Falcon was here, in his grasp—the bird who returned when Blane let him go.

Blane slept.