11. Mutual Attraction

Xavier's crimson eyes pierced through the darkness of the night as he hovered over Alvin's trembling body. The soft whimpers escaping the young boy's lips only served to heighten the predator's hunger. Alvin's feeble attempts to push him away were met with a cruel smirk, as Xavier's handsome features contorted into a sinister grin. With a sudden, surprising strength, Xavier pinned Alvin's wrists to the cold, hard ground, rendering his struggling futile.

The coolness of the night air seemed to amplify the heat of their entangled forms as Xavier's muscular body pressed against Alvin's smaller frame, his arousal growing more insistent by the second.

Ignoring Alvin's feeble protests, Xavier's fiery gaze bore into the depths of Alvin's soul, seeking the tiniest spark of submission amidst the raging inferno of resistance. With a low, animalistic growl, Xavier aligned their bodies, the tip of his erection brushing against the velvety softness of Alvin's entrance.

He watched with sadistic satisfaction as Alvin's eyes widened in horror and anticipation, the blue orbs swimming with unshed tears. In one swift, brutal motion, Xavier pushed through the barrier of Alvin's innocence, filling him completely. Alvin's scream of agony and betrayal echoed through the quiet night, muffled only by the thick, overhanging branches above them. 

Damn---

Alvin woke up with a start, his heart racing, cold sweat beading on his forehead. His breathing was ragged, and for a moment, he stared at the dark ceiling of his room, trying to piece together where he was.

"What the hell...?" he muttered to himself, sitting up in bed, running a hand through his disheveled sky-blue hair. His skin was still tingling from the dream—no, the nightmare—he had just experienced. It was vivid, too vivid. He could still feel the phantom touch of hands tracing his body, the heat of the moment, and the intensity of emotions that didn't belong to him.

But worst of all? It was Xavier Loid.

Alvin groaned and buried his face in his hands, shaking his head. The dream had been more than vulgar. It was downright absurd. In it, Xavier—whom he had only met once—was there, pushing him up against a wall, their lips locked in a passionate kiss. And that wasn't even the worst part. No, the dream had quickly devolved into something much more... explicit. Alvin cursed under his breath as flashes of the dream came back to him..

He was a powerful mage, an almost-immortal who had lived countless lifetimes and crossed realms. How had he, of all people, ended up dreaming about someone as mundane as Xavier?

"Stupid dream," Alvin growled, kicking the blanket off and pacing the room in frustration. "What is this nonsense? I barely know the guy!"

As he stood there, still fuming and cursing, the air around him seemed to shift. There was a low hum, almost imperceptible, before a familiar voice echoed through his mind—deep, ancient, and annoyingly calm.

"This was not my doing, Alvin Bencio."

Alvin froze. His eyes narrowed as he recognized the voice of the World Will, the ancient cosmic force that governed this world's balance.

"Oh, don't even start with that," Alvin snapped, his voice laced with irritation. "You're the one pulling strings, aren't you? Twisting my dreams just for fun, huh? Because if this is your idea of entertainment, you've got a twisted sense of humor."

The World Will chuckled softly, the sound vibrating in the room. "I assure you, this is not my doing. What you dream of is your own mind at play."

Alvin scoffed, crossing his arms and glaring at the empty room. "My own mind? You expect me to believe I'm sitting here, conjuring up fantasies about some—some muscle-brained idiot who tries to flirt with me? That's rich. You're screwing with me."

"No," the World Will's voice echoed, a hint of amusement in its tone. "This is entirely your own doing. You, Alvin, are the architect of these dreams. They reflect what lies deep within your heart and mind. I have nothing to do with it."

Alvin opened his mouth to argue, but the words stuck in his throat. His own mind? No. Impossible. There was no way he would ever—could ever—have feelings toward someone..

But the more he tried to deny it, the more silent he became.

The World Will remained quiet for a long moment, letting Alvin's thoughts spin. When it spoke again, its voice was more measured, almost thoughtful.

"Perhaps you've simply found a life partner," it said, the words hanging in the air like a calm, rational explanation to Alvin's irrational nightmare.

Alvin blinked, staring into the darkness. "What?"

The World Will's voice was steady. "It is not uncommon for those with powerful souls, such as yours, to form connections beyond the surface. Sometimes, these connections manifest through dreams, or desires you've yet to acknowledge."

Alvin stood there, frozen, as the words sunk in. A life partner? Was that what this was? He had lived so long, fought so many battles, and never once had he concerned himself with romantic entanglements. His entire existence had been about power, survival, and mastering the world's mysteries. But now?

He sighed deeply and sank back onto his bed, running a hand through his hair.

"So, what? You're telling me that Xavier Loid—of all people—is my supposed... life partner?" He spoke the words slowly, as if they would sound less ridiculous if he said them aloud.

"Only you can determine that," the World Will replied softly. "But your dreams indicate a connection forming between you. A deep, binding one."

Alvin groaned, his mind racing. "No, no, no. This can't be real. I'm not... I'm not looking for a partner. Especially not some guy who—" He stopped, his words catching in his throat.

But the dream images of Xavier flashed in his mind again. The way Xavier's red eyes had burned with intensity, the feeling of those strong arms around him, the softness of their lips meeting—it was all too vivid. Too real.

Alvin's face flushed. He hated this. Hated how out of control he felt, how much these dreams had shaken him.

"You will have to confront these feelings, Alvin," the World Will's voice interrupted his thoughts. "Ignoring them will only make them stronger."

Alvin let out a long, frustrated sigh, rubbing his temples as he tried to process everything.

"So you're telling me I'm stuck with these dreams? What, is this going to keep happening until I—" He paused, biting back the words he didn't want to say.

The World Will seemed to sense his discomfort and replied with a calm reassurance. "The dreams are a reflection of your inner thoughts, nothing more. They will persist only as long as you remain in denial of what's stirring within you."

Alvin fell silent, his thoughts a tangled mess. Could this really be what was happening? Was his mind, his magic, his very soul, telling him that Xavier was more than just an annoyance he met at an auction?

He lay back down, staring at the ceiling, trying to calm his racing mind. Maybe, just maybe, there was something to this. Something about Xavier had gotten under his skin, and it wasn't just the man's persistence or those intense red eyes.

"Fine," Alvin muttered finally, half to himself, half to the World Will. "Maybe there's something there. But that doesn't mean I'm ready to deal with it. Not yet."

The World Will's voice faded into a soft hum. "Take your time, Alvin Bencio. Fate waits for no one, but it also cannot be rushed."

And with that, the room fell silent once again, leaving Alvin alone with his thoughts, his confusion, and the lingering heat from a dream he wasn't sure he could forget anytime soon.

"Fate, huh?" Alvin whispered to the empty room. "What a joke."

----

Ignoring Alvin's muffled protests, Xavier's possessive hands found the knot of his apron and ripped it open, revealing the boy's bare, trembling back. Alvin, despite the initial shock, found a strange comfort in the act, his body betraying his mind as it responded to the intrusion. He had always harbored a secret craving for this kind of dominance, a desire that now consumed him as Xavier's relentless rhythm grew more intense.

The sound of their flesh colliding filled the room, echoing off the gleaming kitchen appliances. His knees buckled, but Xavier held him upright, his strong arms wrapped around Alvin's waist as he pounded into him from behind. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure and pain through Alvin's body, a delicious mix that only Xavier knew how to deliver. The cookies in the oven were forgotten, their sweet scent now overpowered by the musky aroma of their illicit union.

Hiss---

Xavier Loid bolted upright in bed, gasping for breath, his heart racing as if he had just run a marathon. His body felt like it was on fire, and his mind was still reeling from the vivid dream he had just experienced.

It wasn't just any dream. No, this one had been vulgar—even more so than the ones that had haunted him for the past week. This time, he had been in a kitchen of all places, but it wasn't the location that had Xavier's pulse racing. It was Alvin Bencio.

In the dream, Alvin had been standing in front of a stove, his long, sky-blue hair tied up in a messy bun, and the only thing he was wearing was a thin apron—one that barely covered anything. Xavier had been right behind him, pressing close, his hands sliding over Alvin's waist while the scent of something cooking filled the air. The scene had felt absurdly domestic and far too intimate, but Xavier had been completely lost in it.

Worse, as Alvin turned to look at him with those piercing blue eyes, there had been a smirk on his face. And that smirk had sent Xavier over the edge.

"Goddamn it," Xavier muttered under his breath as he threw off the covers. He realized, to his horror, that his nose was bleeding. "What the hell is wrong with me?"

He stumbled out of bed and into the bathroom, splashing cold water onto his face to cool himself down. But even as the water dripped down his face, the image of Alvin in that apron refused to leave his mind. He looked so hot... Xavier caught himself thinking, and immediately cursed.

"No, no, no, stop that," he muttered, glaring at himself in the mirror. "He's just a guy. You met him once. This is ridiculous."

But it wasn't just ridiculous—it was obsessive. Xavier had been dreaming about Alvin every night for a week, and each dream was worse than the last. The more he tried to shake it off, the more vivid the dreams became. And now this? An apron, in the kitchen, while cooking? His mind was clearly running wild.

After managing to stop the nosebleed and calm down a little, Xavier paced his room, deep in thought. He couldn't keep going like this. Something was happening to him, something that made no sense, and he needed answers.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of debating with himself, Xavier decided there was only one person who could help him. His father.

A few minutes later, Xavier was standing outside his father's study, still trying to process how awkward this conversation was about to be. Alex Loid, his father, was the patriarch of the family, strong, practical, and very no-nonsense. But he was also the only one who would know what to do in a situation like this. Xavier took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

"Come in," Alex's deep voice called from inside.

Xavier opened the door and stepped in, finding his father seated at his desk, reviewing documents with the typical calmness that came with years of running the Loid family's vast business empire.

"Xavier," Alex greeted him with a nod, setting the papers aside. "You look... troubled. What's going on?"

Xavier rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly feeling very awkward. "I, uh... need to ask you something. Something... personal."

Alex raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Personal? That's rare for you. What's on your mind?"

Xavier hesitated for a moment, then blurted out, "What did you do when you realized Mom was your fated one?"

The question hung in the air for a moment, and Alex blinked, caught off guard by the suddenness of it. He leaned back in his chair, studying Xavier carefully before speaking.

"Ah, so you're finally dealing with it, huh?" Alex said, his tone knowing. "The dreams, the obsession... I assume it's been hard to ignore."

Xavier nodded, his face heating up slightly. "Yeah. It's been... intense."

Alex chuckled softly. "It's always intense when you find your fated one. But in answer to your question, what did I do? Simple." He leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "I chased your mother back home, told her exactly how I felt, and did whatever it took to make her mine."

Xavier blinked in surprise. "Just like that? You didn't... hesitate? Or question it?"

Alex shook his head, a small smile on his lips. "No. When you know, you know. The bond between fated mates is powerful, Xavier. You can't fight it. You either embrace it, or you spend your life running from it, and that's no way to live."

Xavier sighed, sitting down in one of the chairs in front of the desk. "I don't know if I'm ready for that. I've only met Alvin once, and now I'm dreaming about him every night. It feels... overwhelming."

"That's the nature of the bond," Alex said, his tone calm. "It's not something you can control. But you have to make a choice, Xavier. You either pursue it or risk being haunted by what could've been."

Xavier sat in silence for a few moments, thinking over his father's words. "But what if... I mean, I don't even know him. What if he doesn't feel the same?"

Alex laughed softly. "Oh, he'll feel it. Trust me. It's mutual when it's a true fated bond. You just have to give it time. But I'll tell you this, son—once you're in, there's no going back. You're bound to him in ways that go beyond logic."

Xavier groaned, leaning back in his chair. "Great. Just what I needed. More complications."

Alex smiled knowingly. "It's only complicated if you make it so. You Loids are all the same—overthinkers. My advice? Don't fight it. If you want him, go after him. The rest will fall into place."

Xavier glanced at his father, then down at the floor. His mind was spinning, but Alex's words rang true. Maybe it really was as simple as that—if he felt this strongly, there was no point in denying it. But the idea of chasing after Alvin still made him hesitate. The guy was sarcastic, aloof, and didn't seem the least bit interested in romance.

Xavier stood up, feeling slightly better but still conflicted. "Thanks, Dad. I... needed to hear that."

Alex nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. "Anytime, son. And remember, don't let the dreams get the better of you. They're just pushing you toward what's already meant to be."

Xavier left the study, feeling slightly more at ease, though the thought of chasing Alvin still felt daunting. As he walked down the hallway, he briefly considered asking his older brother Daniel for advice—but quickly dismissed the idea.

"What's the point of asking Daniel?" Xavier muttered to himself. "The guy's as single as a plank of wood. He wouldn't know the first thing about fate or romance."

With that, Xavier made his way back to his room, determined to figure out how to deal with his growing obsession with Alvin. His father's words echoed in his mind, and as much as Xavier hated to admit it, maybe his father was right.

Maybe the only way forward was to stop resisting.