12. Possessiveness

Xavier Loid was at his wit's end. For the past week, no matter what he did, Alvin Bencio had been haunting his every waking moment—and worse, invading his dreams. The vivid images of Alvin—sometimes vulgar, sometimes tender—were driving him mad, and his mind was becoming consumed by thoughts of the mysterious man.

It was Natasha, his love-struck younger sister, who had planted the idea in his head. One night, after yet another disturbing dream about Alvin, Xavier had finally cracked and confessed his situation to her. Natasha had laughed, told him to loosen up, and suggested he "go out and get some fresh air." She meant, of course, that he should visit the biggest dating club in town to distract himself. Her method of dealing with heartbreak involved throwing herself into the arms of someone new, someone who could take her mind off her emotional troubles.

So that's exactly what Xavier decided to do.

The club was nothing short of extravagant. Nestled in the heart of the city, it was known for catering to every desire, with beautiful men and women alike serving their high-end clientele. Dimly lit with a rich, sultry ambiance, it was a place where people could indulge in distractions. For Xavier, it was supposed to be a quick fix—a way to get Alvin out of his head and focus back on his task force responsibilities.

The moment he walked in, the staff greeted him with knowing smiles. One of the hosts, a sharp-dressed man with a smooth voice, approached.

"Welcome, sir. How may we serve you tonight?"

Xavier didn't waste any time. "I want your best."

The host gave a polite smile, but there was a hint of hesitation in his eyes. "I'm afraid our finest talent is currently unavailable. However, I can offer you the second best."

Xavier's patience was thin, but he nodded anyway, deciding to follow through. "Fine. Bring me the second best."

The host nodded and soon returned with a boy who was undeniably attractive. Long black hair, a soft yet cute smile, and a slender frame. The boy moved with grace as he approached Xavier, and without waiting for an invitation, he slid onto Xavier's lap.

Xavier instantly stiffened, every muscle in his body protesting the boy's touch. It was an automatic reaction—his skin crawled, and the feeling of someone else so close to him, especially someone he had no connection to, filled him with disgust.

The boy smiled sweetly, oblivious to Xavier's discomfort. "Can I get you a drink, sir?" He handed Xavier a glass filled with a dark liquid.

Xavier took the drink and downed it in one go, more out of an attempt to hide his growing frustration than actual thirst. As the alcohol burned down his throat, he realized something. It didn't matter how attractive this boy was or how perfect the atmosphere—he didn't want this. He didn't want any of it.

But just as he was about to push the boy off, his eyes wandered across the room—and his breath caught in his throat.

Alvin.

Alvin was there, lounging in the open seating area of the club. He was leaning against a man, his head resting on the man's shoulder, looking almost... peaceful. He wasn't wearing his usual aloof, sarcastic expression. Instead, there was a small, tired smile on his lips, and for a moment, Alvin looked almost fragile. But more than anything, the sight of Alvin being so close—so intimate—with someone else sent a wave of possessive fury through Xavier's entire being.

His blood boiled, and before he could stop himself, a thought surfaced, loud and clear: "That's mine."

The drink glass in his hand shattered as he crushed it, his grip too tight. Ignoring the boy still perched on his lap, Xavier shoved him away and stood up. His eyes were locked onto Alvin, his body tense with unrelenting possessiveness.

Across the room, Alvin was oblivious to Xavier's approach. He had come to the club for a completely different reason. Jax and Luis, the two individuals he had hired previously, had finally finished their latest task. After talking to them, Alvin had decided he wanted them around more permanently. He saw potential in them—not just for work, but as companions. They were orphans, too, just like the kids back at the orphanage. When he offered them a place to stay at the orphanage, both Jax and Luis had agreed without hesitation.

They were discussing the details when Alvin, exhausted from his recent nightmares (all of which involved that man), leaned against Jax. His eyes were half-lidded with fatigue. "I need more sleep," he mumbled, resting his head on Jax's shoulder. "These stupid nightmares won't stop."

Jax chuckled softly, patting Alvin's head in a brotherly manner. "You work too hard, Alvin. Relax."

Luis, who sat across from them, added with a smirk, "Maybe you just need a distraction from all those... vivid dreams you keep talking about."

Alvin groaned in response, not even bothering to correct Luis. It wasn't worth the energy. He wasn't sure why he was having nightmares about Xavier Loid, of all people, but they were becoming increasingly unsettling. And not just because of the intensity of the dreams, but because they were starting to feel more like... desires. Desires he had no intention of confronting.

But just as Alvin was about to drift off into a half-asleep state, someone grabbed him roughly by the arm and yanked him backward. His body jerked, and when he spun around to see who it was, his breath caught in his throat.

Xavier.

Those deep red eyes were burning with an intensity Alvin had never seen before—filled with raw lust and an unsettling amount of dominance. Alvin instinctively tried to pull away, but Xavier's grip was strong, his hand like iron around Alvin's arm.

For a brief moment, the air between them crackled with tension, and Alvin felt a shudder run down his spine. Xavier was towering over him, his eyes dark with something primal.

"What are you doing?" Alvin managed to hiss, trying to shake off the strange sensation creeping through his body. He had fought gods and demons—he wasn't about to be intimidated by some hotheaded military guy.

But Xavier didn't respond. He was too busy staring at Alvin, his gaze sliding over the man's slim frame, his long blue hair, and the way Alvin's chest rose and fell with each breath. It only made Xavier's blood boil hotter. The sight of Alvin leaning on another man had triggered something deep inside him—something possessive, something dangerous.

Alvin's sarcastic instincts kicked in despite the situation. "If you wanted to talk, maybe grabbing me like a caveman wasn't the best way to start."

Xavier's grip tightened, his voice low and barely controlled. "What the hell are you doing here? With him?"

Alvin raised an eyebrow, his heartbeat picking up even though he was trying to remain calm. "What I do is none of your business, Loid." He glanced at Jax, who was staring at Xavier with confusion, and then back at Xavier. "And for the record, I'm not 'with' anyone. Not that it's any concern of yours."

Xavier's jaw clenched, his emotions too chaotic for him to articulate properly. "You... shouldn't be here," he finally growled, his voice rough. "With him. With anyone."

Alvin blinked, caught off guard by the possessiveness in Xavier's tone. He stared up at the man for a moment, trying to read him, but all he could see was the raw, heated intensity in Xavier's eyes. And for the first time in a long time, Alvin felt genuinely... shaken.

But instead of backing down, he smirked, forcing himself to keep up his usual snark. "Oh, I see. So now you're telling me where I can and can't go?" He leaned in slightly, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "What's next, Captain Loid? You going to handcuff me and drag me out of here?"

Xavier's eyes darkened further, and Alvin instantly regretted his choice of words.

"If that's what it takes," Xavier replied, his voice a low growl. "You're not leaving my sight, Alvin."

For a brief moment, the world around them seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of them standing in the middle of the club, locked in a battle of wills. Alvin knew he could fight Xavier off if he really wanted to, but part of him—an irritatingly curious part—wanted to see where this would go. Was Xavier really that worked up over him? And if so... why?

And why, Alvin wondered, did his heart feel like it was hammering in his chest?

"You're insane," Alvin muttered, more to himself than to Xavier.

But as Xavier tugged him closer, their faces inches apart, Alvin realized he wasn't the only one losing control.

Xavier's eyes, a fiery amber, bore into Alvin's deep cerulean gaze, sending shivers down his spine. Without a word, Xavier's hand reached out to gently cradle Alvin's face, his thumb tracing the soft contours of his cheekbone as if he was memorizing every line and curve. The world around them faded away, leaving only the two of them standing in a sea of unnoticed whispers and shuffling feet. Suddenly, Xavier leaned in, capturing Alvin's plump, inviting lips with a passion that was both fierce and gentle. The kiss was a declaration of war and surrender, a promise of a wild, unbridled love that could never be tamed. Alvin's eyes fluttered closed, and he leaned into Xavier's embrace, his heart racing with excitement and a hint of trepidation.

Xavier pulled away,

Xavier's thumb traced slow, tender circles on Alvin's skin, his gaze never faltering. It was as if he were searching for something, for an answer to the question that had yet to be asked. The air between them crackled with electricity, a tension so thick that it was almost suffocating. And yet, neither of them moved away. Neither wanted to.

"Alvin," Xavier whispered, his voice low and rich, almost like a plea. The sound of his name on Xavier's lips sent a shiver down Alvin's spine, his heart pounding in his chest. "Can we...?" Xavier trailed off, the unfinished question hanging in the air, heavy with meaning.

It was more than just a question. It was a vulnerability, a moment of raw honesty from a man who was usually so controlled, so composed. Xavier, the man who commanded armies, who had stood against the worst the world had to offer, was now standing in front of Alvin, baring his heart in a way that made Alvin's chest tighten with emotions he hadn't allowed himself to feel in so long.

Alvin blinked, his throat suddenly dry as he processed the silent plea in Xavier's words. He had always been so sure of himself, always the one in control, but here, in this moment, with Xavier's touch setting his skin alight, he felt anything but.

And yet, he couldn't deny the pull. The dreams that had haunted him for days, the possessiveness in Xavier's gaze, the way his body reacted to every brush of Xavier's fingers—it all made sense now. It wasn't just lust or curiosity. It was something deeper.

Alvin swallowed hard, his heart thudding in his ears. The logical part of his brain screamed at him to step back, to put distance between them before things spiraled out of control. But the rest of him—his body, his heart, his very soul—yearned for more. Yearned for Xavier.

Taking a shaky breath, Alvin gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. And then, before he could think better of it, a soft, almost tentative "yes" slipped from his lips.

Xavier's eyes darkened with desire, his breath hitching at Alvin's response. His hand lingered on Alvin's cheek for a moment longer, as if savoring the warmth of his skin, before slowly moving down to rest on the side of his neck, pulling him closer. Their faces were inches apart now, the heat between them palpable.

"You don't know what you're doing to me," Xavier murmured, his voice husky, as his forehead gently touched Alvin's. "You've been in my head, in my dreams... I can't get you out of my mind."

Alvin's breath hitched, his heart racing even faster. He had been trying to deny it, to push the dreams away, but now, standing here, with Xavier so close he could feel the warmth of his breath, the truth was undeniable.

"Maybe I don't want to get out," Alvin whispered back, his voice betraying the nerves that still tingled in his chest. He didn't know where the boldness came from, but it was there, pushing him forward. "Maybe I'm just waiting for you to make a move."