Chapter 42

Killian woke up slow.

Too slow.

Warm.

Comfortable.

His cheek pressed against something steady—skin, warm, alive. His arm draped across a torso like it had every right to be there. One leg loosely hooked over another.

For a few seconds—

nothing felt wrong.

“…mm.”

A low sound slipped out of him, half-asleep, unguarded.

He shifted slightly, face pressing deeper—

then stilled.

Skin.

Bare.

Not a pillow.

Killian frowned faintly.

Then—

it clicked.

His eyes snapped open.

He froze.

Then pulled back just enough to see—

Theodore.

Under him.

His professor.

Killian jerked back like he’d been burned.

“…no.”

He pushed himself up immediately, dragging a hand through his hair.

“No—no, this is getting ridiculous.”

Theodore stirred beneath him, slow, like the movement barely mattered.

“You’re loud,” he said, voice rough with sleep.

Killian stared at him.

“…I was sleeping on you.”

“Yes.”

Calm.

Flat.

Like that wasn’t worth discussing.

Killian let out a short, disbelieving breath. “That’s not normal.”

“It was comfortable,” Theodore said.

That—

Killian blinked.

“…I’m sorry?”

Theodore opened his eyes properly now, looking at him without tension.

“I said it was comfortable.”

Killian stared.

Then laughed once, sharp. “Yeah, no. Let’s not normalize that.”

Theodore shifted, sitting up slightly, completely at ease.

“You didn’t seem uncomfortable,” he added.

Killian grabbed his shirt from the floor. “That’s because I was asleep.”

“Mm,” Theodore hummed. “Convenient.”

Killian pulled his shirt on, already irritated again.

“You were completely gone last night,” he said. “No control. No filter.”

Theodore didn’t deny it.

“Yes.”

Killian paused mid-button.

“…that’s it?”

Theodore adjusted his posture, calm, almost refreshed.

“I don’t see the point in pretending otherwise.”

Killian scoffed. “You were acting like a bitch in heat.”

No reaction.

“I was in heat,” Theodore said simply. “It was effective.”

Killian stared at him.

“…effective.”

“Yes.”

That word sat wrong.

Killian huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Unbelievable.”

“You didn’t stop,” Theodore added.

Killian pointed at him. “Yeah, because you weren’t exactly making that an option.”

“And yet,” Theodore said, “you stayed.”

That landed.

Killian dragged a hand through his hair. “Yeah. Bad decision.”

“Twice,” Theodore said.

Killian shot him a look. “Don’t push it.”

“I’m not,” Theodore replied. “I got what I needed.”

That—

that irritated him more than anything else.

Killian grabbed his jacket, tone sharpening.

“Next time you feel like that—use a condom.”

Theodore didn’t react.

“I’m not interested in waking up with consequences because you couldn’t control yourself.”

Theodore met his eyes, steady.

“That assumes I’d involve you.”

Killian held his gaze—

then scoffed.

“Right.”

He reached into his wallet, pulled out some cash, and dropped it on the table.

“Get something for it,” he said. “Prevention.”

Theodore glanced at it.

Didn’t touch it.

“I didn’t ask for that.”

Killian shrugged. “You didn’t ask for last night either.”

A beat.

Theodore leaned back slightly, completely composed.

“It wasn’t bad,” he said again.

Killian paused at the door.

Just for a second.

Then laughed under his breath.

“…yeah,” he muttered. “That’s the problem.”

And he left.

Killian didn’t slow down when he left the room.

Door.

Hallway.

Elevator.

He stepped in, hit the button, and leaned back, jaw tight.

“…again.”

Ding.

Lobby.

Outside, the air hit him clean.

A taxi pulled up almost instantly.

Killian let out a dry laugh.

“Of course,” he muttered. “Last night—nothing. Now it’s a miracle.”

He got in.

“North Audley Street.”

The car pulled away.

Killian leaned back in the seat.

Didn’t look outside.

Didn’t check anything.

Just—

sat there.

“…again,” he muttered under his breath.

His jaw tightened.

Not because of what happened.

But because of how easily it happened.

Again.

He dragged a hand down his face.

“…unbelievable.”

A pause.

Then—

quieter:

“I don’t even—”

He stopped.

Because finishing that thought would mean admitting something.

And he wasn’t doing that.

The city passed outside blurred.

Killian shifted slightly, resting his head back.

Theodore’s voice echoed anyway—

uninvited.

“I like it.”

“I want you.”

Killian scoffed under his breath.

“…yeah.”

Like that explained it.

Like that made it make sense.

It didn’t.

His hand tightened slightly against his leg.

“…not my thing,” he muttered again.

Quieter this time.

Less convincing.

The car slowed at a light.

Killian exhaled slowly—

forcing it down.

Control.

Reset.

Normal.

That’s what this was supposed to be.

He straightened slightly in his seat.

By the time the car moved again—

his expression had already shifted.

Back to neutral.

Back to easy.

Like nothing stuck.

His phone rang.

Sophia.

He stared at it for a second.

Then answered.

“Hey.”

Her voice came sharp.

“How are you?”

“Fine.”

“Already?” she said. “You sounded like you were dying last night.”

“Yeah, well. I’m good now.”

A pause.

Then—

“You lied to me.”

Killian frowned. “…what?”

“Don’t play stupid,” Sophia snapped. “You lied.”

Killian leaned back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I got a call,” she said. “From Patricia.”

Killian didn’t react.

“She saw you,” Sophia continued. “Leaving a hotel.”

Silence.

Killian looked out the window.

“…you’re trusting gossip now?”

“I’m asking you,” she shot back. “Were you at a hotel?”

Killian exhaled slowly.

“No.”

A beat.

“Fuck off,” Sophia snapped immediately. “Don’t lie again.”

Killian’s jaw tightened.

“I saw you leave the party,” she went on. “You said you were sick.”

“I was.”

“Bullshit,” she cut in. “You weren’t sick. You were horny.”

Silence stretched.

Killian rubbed his temple once.

“…why does this even matter?”

“Because you lied to my face,” she snapped. “And then went to fuck someone else.”

Killian’s patience snapped with it.

“Yeah,” he said flatly. “I did.”

Silence.

Then—

“You’re such an asshole.”

Killian leaned back. “We’re not dating.”

“Oh, go to hell,” Sophia fired back. “That’s not the point and you know it.”

“It is the point,” he said. “I don’t owe you—”

“You owe me basic respect,” she cut in. “Not this—this cheap bullshit.”

Killian laughed under his breath. “Respect doesn’t mean I report who I sleep with.”

“It means you don’t lie like a coward,” she snapped.

A beat.

Killian’s voice dropped, colder. “You asked. I answered.”

“After lying,” she shot back. “After making me look like an idiot.”

Killian ran a hand through his hair. “I didn’t make you anything.”

Sophia laughed, sharp and angry. “Wow. You really believe that.”

Silence.

Then she said it—

slow, cutting:

“You left me there… to go fuck someone else.”

Killian didn’t hesitate.

“Yes.”

That did it.

“Fuck you, Killian.”

The words came clean. Final.

“Actually—no,” she added. “Go fuck whoever you want. Clearly that’s all you’re good at.”

Killian’s jaw tightened. “Soph—”

“No,” she cut in. “Don’t ‘Soph’ me. Don’t call me again.”

A beat.

“And next time you lie,” she added, voice sharp as glass, “at least be good at it.”

The line went dead.

Silence filled the car.

Killian stared at the screen.

Then locked it.

“…great.”

He leaned back, jaw tight, eyes flicking to the window as the city came into view—clean, controlled, exactly how things were supposed to be.

For once—

it didn’t feel like enough.