[BL] CRAVING HIM: Addicted to His Voice-Chapter 389: The Weight of Family and Home

The second Liam spotted Zayn, his face lit up through his tears. "Daddy!" He shrieked, stretching his arms out toward him.

Zayn looked back into the room, only to find Evric walking toward him with a knowing, gentle smile on his face. Seeing the warmth in his husband’s eyes, the tears Zayn had been holding back finally spilled over his cheeks. He reached out and took Liam into his arms, clutching the boy tight to his chest, and took the heavy bag from Nuala.

He turned to Liana and Nuala, offering a shaky, grateful thank you before closing the door on the quiet hallway. As they left, Evric stepped closer, his smile widening. Zayn wanted to sulk, he wanted to pretend he was still upset that Evric had teased him, but the sheer thoughtfulness of the gesture overwhelmed him.

Evric reached out and easily took the bag from Zayn’s hand to carry it further into the suite. He was about to speak, likely to tease Zayn one more time, but Zayn didn’t give him the chance. He rushed forward and captured Evric’s lips in a deep, emotional kiss, his heart overflowing with a love so intense it made his head spin.

Liam, nestled safely between them, watched his fathers with a bright, teary-eyed smile, his little voice chirping out, "Daddy! Daddy!"

When Zayn finally pulled back, his eyes were still wet as he looked at Evric in disbelief. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "I really thought... I thought you didn’t want him here tonight. I thought you wanted us to be alone."

Evric set the bag down on a nearby table, his expression softening into a look of deep, unshakable protection. "You really should keep thoughts like that to yourself, Mr. Draeven," he murmured, his voice low and steady. "Liam is just as important to me as you are. He’s my son now, too."

The weight of those words hit Zayn like a physical wave, an overwhelming rush of love and relief crashing over him. He felt the last of his worries dissolve in the warmth of the room.

"Thank you, baby," Zayn murmured, his voice trembling as he stepped into Evric’s space, holding Liam between them. "Thank you so much for being exactly who you are."

Downstairs, the grand celebration was finally winding down. Guests were filtering out toward the line of waiting cars. Evric’s father stood by the main entrance, watching his colleagues and friends drive away with his assistant at his side.

The night had been a triumph for the family name, and for a moment, he simply stood in the cool night air, absorbing the silence.

Nearby, Nantam was preparing to leave. Dean was already in the car, leaning his head against the window and grumbling loudly. "I already miss my girlfriend," Dean muttered to the dashboard. "If she hadn’t traveled for that job, I wouldn’t be sitting here lonely, watching every couple to my left and right doing all this lovey-dovey stuff. It’s too much."

Evans walked Nantam toward the car, promising he would join him soon. "I just have a few things to wrap up here first," Evans said softly. He leaned in, pulling Nantam into a deep, lingering goodbye kiss.

Just as they were lost in the moment, Evric’s father turned. The bright security lights of the estate illuminated the driveway, making every detail clear. Nantam was the first to notice the tall, imposing figure of the patriarch watching them. He froze, quickly pulling his mouth away from Evans.

Confused by the sudden break, Evans frowned. "Babe, what happened?"

Nantam’s eyes were wide, and he gave a subtle nod toward the porch. "Babe... your father."

Evans looked back, his breath hitching for a second when he saw his father standing there, silent and observant. The tension was thick, but Evans didn’t flinch. He turned back to Nantam and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. "Go first," he whispered. "I’ll meet you at the house soon."

Nantam offered a respectful, hurried bow toward the patriarch before rushing into the car. He didn’t have to tell Dean twice; the car peeled away immediately, leaving Evans alone with the man who held the family’s legacy in his hands.

As his father turned to walk back inside, Evans jogged to catch up, playfully clinging to his father’s arm. He looked at him with a mix of nerves and charm. "So... what do you think of him?"

"Evans," his father said, his voice deep and measured.

"Yes, Father?"

"Are you sure about him?"

Evans didn’t hesitate for a second. "I’m more than sure."

His father sighed, his expression unreadable. "I don’t want to—"

"Trust me, Father," Evans cut in, his voice dropping to a sincere tone. "About him, you really have nothing to worry about. He is truly a good man, and he’s meant only for me."

His father stopped walking, eyeing him critically. "So, you want me to believe you’re serious? Am I to expect another big day like today’s wedding sometime soon?"

"Absolutely," Evans said with a confident grin.

"You aren’t getting any younger," his father reminded him, "and you know why I have my reservations."

"He’s different, Father. He really is a good man," Evans assured him once more.

His father hummed, finally giving a small, reluctant nod. "Fine. But I’ll still need to visit him personally to be assured of that myself."

Evans felt a flicker of worry. "Father... please tell me you aren’t planning to give him a hard time."

A mysterious glint appeared in the older man’s eyes. "You’ll just have to wait and see. You know I always have my way."

Evans realized he needed to make a quick exit before the conversation got too heavy. He let go of his father’s arm and began to back away toward the stairs. "Rogan, please be gentle with my man!" he shouted, using his father’s first name with a cheeky, daring grin.

Before his father could even think of scolding him or kicking him for the disrespect, Evans turned and bolted inside, his voice echoing back through the hall: "Rogan, be gentle with him!"

His father stood there, watching Evans disappear into the mansion. He shook his head, a rare, genuine smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You’re rude, you know!" He shouted after him, though there was no real bite in his tone, only the weary affection of a father who knew his son all too well.

************

Jaxon and Nicki had just arrived back at their own home. The air between them felt strangely heavy, despite the celebration they had just left. Nicki immediately headed for the bar, pouring himself a stiff drink to wash away the nerves of the evening.

Meanwhile, Jaxon stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, his hands buried deep in his pockets as he stared out at the city lights. Suddenly, he turned away from the glass. His expression had shifted into something uncharacteristically serious as he looked at Nicki. He held his gaze in silence, the weight of it making the room feel smaller.

"You know, honey," Jaxon said, his voice dropping into a low, dangerous register. "I’ve been paying close attention lately. Watching your friends... your brothers. And I’ve noticed something, even though you never said his name."

He paused, his eyes tracking every micro-expression on Nicki’s face. "The wedding we just came back from..." he said slowly. "I realized something." His gaze sharpened. "One of the men there is your ex-boyfriend, isn’t he? And no, I don’t mean Zayn. I mean Zayn’s partner." He let the name land. "Evric. Evric Draeven. He’s your ex."

Nicki froze, his heart stumbling in his chest. The glass in his hand suddenly felt heavy. He hadn’t expected Jaxon to piece the puzzle together so accurately.

Nicki forced himself to take a breath, trying to keep his voice steady as he looked back at Jaxon. "What did you see..."