[BL]Reborn as the Empire's Most Desired Omega
Chapter 138: Husband

Chapter 138: Chapter 138: Husband

Lucas woke to the faint sound of typing.

Not birds. Not a kiss. Not a lazy hand trailing down his spine.

No.

Typing.

He groaned and buried his face deeper into the pillow, but it didn’t help. The gentle tap-tap of fingers on a touchscreen filtered through the quiet like some cruel reminder that the world hadn’t stopped just because he could barely walk.

Trevor was sitting on the edge of the chaise near the window, tablet propped on his knee, one hand scrolling through charts while the other balanced a cup of coffee. He looked annoyingly rested. Shirtless, hair still messy from sleep, but with that military-efficiency posture that said, I’ve been up for hours and also possibly plotting war.

Lucas shifted under the blankets and hissed as his lower back pulled tight in protest.

Trevor didn’t look up.

"Oh, look who’s alive," he said, not even trying to hide the smugness in his voice. "Thought I was going to have to carry you to the bathroom again."

"I hate you," Lucas mumbled into the pillow.

Trevor finally glanced over, raising a brow. "You didn’t last night."

Lucas let out a wounded groan and flopped onto his back, instantly regretting it.

Trevor snorted.

"Don’t laugh," Lucas whined, dragging the blanket higher to cover his face. "You’re not sore."

"I was," Trevor replied, smug as ever. "Then I got over it. You, on the other hand, kept begging for more. At some point, I stopped feeling guilty."

Lucas peeked out from under the blanket just enough to glare at him. "You’re not supposed to gloat."

"I’m not gloating." He sipped his coffee. "I’m observing."

Lucas narrowed his eyes. "Like a sociopath?"

"Like a man who warned you it was a bad idea to go for round two."

Lucas scowled and sank lower under the covers. "You’re lucky I can’t move."

"You say that like it’s not part of the appeal."

"Trevor!"

That made him laugh, an actual, full laugh, and Lucas hated how much he liked the sound of it. NovelFire

"I made you tea," Trevor said, finally standing and walking over to the nightstand. He set the cup down, then leaned over and pressed a kiss to Lucas’s forehead. "And something to eat. You’ll need both if you want to glare at me with full strength later."

Lucas grumbled but took the tea, cupping it in both hands. His fingers brushed Trevor’s briefly, warm and familiar, and something in his chest settled.

Trevor sat on the edge of the bed and brushed the hair from his face.

"You’re going to be okay," he said, his voice quieter now. "Soreness fades."

Lucas met his eyes. "Yeah. But the clinginess doesn’t."

Trevor smiled. "Good. I like you clingy."

Lucas groaned into his tea. "You should like me clingy. I can’t walk properly. You did this to me."

"Mm," Trevor hummed like he was proud of that fact, lounging at the foot of the bed with his tablet balanced on one knee. He looked irritatingly alive for someone who’d kept Lucas up most of the night. "You said, and I quote, ’don’t stop.’ Multiple times. Loudly."

"I was delirious," Lucas muttered. "I wasn’t consenting to six hours of cardio."

Trevor didn’t even look up from his screen. "Not my fault you’ve got no stamina."

Lucas threw a pillow at him. Missed.

Trevor finally looked over, smirking. "Careful. You’re still sore. You’ll throw your back out, and then I’ll have to carry you around like some spoiled housecat."

"I am a spoiled housecat," Lucas said flatly. "I require sun, a quiet corner, and a lack of meetings. And milk. Bring me milk." NovelFire

Trevor snorted, dragging a hand through his hair. "You’re impossible."

"And you’re late," Lucas pointed out, eyes narrowing as Trevor reached for his shirt.

"I’ve got meetings," Trevor said with a sigh, finally standing. "Two. One with the logistics team, one with the estate council. Then we can leave tomorrow."

Lucas blinked. "We’re going back already?"

"We’ve been here six days," Trevor said, rubbing the back of his neck. "And it’s been... fine. But too many eyes. Too many people are asking too many questions. I don’t mind it, but I’d rather you get some rest somewhere we don’t have people barging in. Dax. My grandmother. Half the palace."

Lucas squinted. "You’re saying your estate is more private?"

"Yes."

"Your estate that’s in the second-largest city in the Empire?"

"Yes."

"Where your grandmother lives is fifteen minutes away?"

Trevor looked at him. "Yes. Because she calls before she shows up. Unlike Dax, who brings chaos and military work."

Lucas gave him a deeply unimpressed look. "You like Dax."

"I tolerate Dax," Trevor corrected. "Under strict terms. One of which is not him dragging half the southern command into my living room under the pretense of bringing you almond croissants."

"They were good croissants," Lucas mumbled.

Trevor shot him a look over his shoulder. "You ate half the tray and told him the air force redesign was ’charming.’ You encouraged him."

Lucas didn’t deny it. "I was hungry. And still recovering from you, if you recall."

"I’m starting to think your idea of recovery is eating jam pastries while charming unstable monarchs."

Lucas yawned. "Worked, didn’t it?"

Trevor shook his head, tugging his shirt over his head. "This is why we’re leaving tomorrow. I need at least twenty-four hours without high-ranking nobles showing up to flirt with you and draft battle maps on my table."

Lucas blinked up at him, still half-cocooned in the blankets. "You’re jealous."

Trevor didn’t dignify that with an answer.

Lucas grinned, victorious. "You are."

Trevor didn’t respond.

Instead, he tucked his tablet under one arm, leaned over the bed, and bit Lucas’s cheek.

Lucas yelped. "Ow! Are you five?"

Trevor pulled back, completely unfazed. "You were getting cocky."

"That’s called being right," Lucas said, rubbing his cheek, more confused than hurt. "You bit me."

"You liked it."

"I’m literally bruised from the waist down and that’s your instinct?"

Trevor smirked. "Biting is how I express affection now."

Lucas stared at him like he’d lost his mind. "What if I start doing that back?"

Trevor looked far too pleased with the idea. "Please do."

Lucas huffed and flopped back against the pillows, mumbling, "You’re lucky I can’t move."

Trevor leaned down again, kissed the cheek he’d just bitten and said, "And you’re lucky I brought you tea."

Lucas rolled his eyes, but the corners of his mouth twitched. "You’re a menace."

Trevor straightened, already heading for the door. "A responsible menace. I’ve got meetings. You rest, drink your tea, and if Dax shows up with pastries, slam the door in his face."

Lucas blinked. "He brings food, Trevor."

"He also brings three new crises and at least one veiled threat disguised as a compliment."

Lucas snorted. "So, like your grandmother, but with worse handwriting."

Trevor paused in the doorway, glancing back. "Exactly. If either of them calls, we’re not available."

Lucas made a vague shooing motion with his hand. "Go before you miss something important and blame it on me."

Trevor gave him one last look, something quieter, something that didn’t need to be said aloud, then disappeared down the hall.

Lucas sat back with his tea, staring at the door, cheek still faintly warm where Trevor had bitten him.

He should’ve been annoyed.

But mostly?

He just felt... wanted.

And that was a hell of a thing.