Caught by the Mad Alpha King-Chapter 415: For Warmth

The car continued its smooth journey through the city streets, the soft leather of the seats cradling them as the world outside passed in a blur of lights and shadows. Chris shifted slightly, the oversized coat still enveloping him like a warm, expensive cloud. He glanced at Dax, who was watching him with that soft gaze that always made Chris feel like the only person in the universe.

"You’re staring," Chris said, though there was no accusation in his voice.

"Is that a problem?" Dax’s voice was low and intimate.

"No," Chris admitted. "Just... noticeable."

A thoughtful silence fell between them, interrupted only by the hum of the engine. Then Chris’s expression changed, and a playful calculation appeared in his eyes.

"You know," he said, affecting a slight shiver that was entirely theatrical. "I think I’m actually getting cold."

Dax raised an eyebrow, his gaze dropping to the coat that was currently swallowing Chris whole. "You’re wearing my coat. In a heated car. In late spring."

"Perception is subjective," Chris replied with mock seriousness. "And I perceive myself to be freezing."

Dax’s lips curved into a knowing smile. "I could turn up the heat."

"Where’s the fun in that?" Chris shifted in his seat, turning to face Dax more fully. "No, I’ve done some analysis. The warmest spot in this vehicle, scientifically speaking, is currently occupied by you."

"Is that so?" Dax leaned back slightly, though his eyes never left Chris’s face.

"Absolutely." Chris’s voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "Body heat. Direct contact. Basic thermodynamics."

Before Dax could respond, Chris moved with the fluid grace that has always surprised those who underestimated him. He swung one leg over Dax’s lap, then the other, and settled himself on Dax’s thighs. The coat wrapped around them, creating a private cocoon within the already intimate confines of the car.

"See?" Chris said, his hands resting on Dax’s shoulders as he leaned in closer. "Much warmer already."

Dax’s hands found Chris’s waist automatically, his thumbs stroking the fabric of the coat. "This is your solution to being ’cold’?"

"It’s efficient," Chris replied, his nose brushing against Dax’s. "Multi-purpose, even."

"Multi-purpose?" Dax’s voice had dropped an octave, his hands tightening slightly on Chris’s waist.

"Mm," Chris hummed, tilting his head to press their lips together in a soft kiss. "Warming. Proximity. Annoying you in ways you secretly enjoy."

Dax responded to the kiss with equal tenderness, his hands sliding up Chris’s back beneath the coat. "You’re not cold at all, are you?"

Chris pulled back just enough to meet Dax’s eyes, his own dancing with mischief. "I’m currently experiencing a significant temperature increase. Must be working."

"You’re impossible," Dax murmured, though he was smiling as he drew Chris back in for another kiss.

"I’m resourceful," Chris corrected against his lips. "And according to my calculations, this position maintains optimal thermal exchange for at least..." He pretended to think. "Twenty minutes before we need to reposition."

Dax laughed softly, his breath warm against Chris’s mouth. "Twenty minutes?"

"Minimum," Chris confirmed, shifting slightly to get more comfortable. "But I’m willing to conduct extended research if necessary."

The car hit a small bump, causing Chris to press closer to Dax, their bodies aligning in such a way that they both inhaled sharply. Chris’s eyes widened slightly before a slow smile spread across his face.

"See?" he whispered. "Thermodynamics in action."

Dax stared at him for one long beat.

Then he laughed.

Warm, brief, and helpless enough that Chris felt it all the way through his chest where he was still draped across him.

"There," he said, smug and pleased with himself. "I knew you had one."

Dax’s hands tightened at his waist, steady and possessive, his mouth still curved. "You are insufferable."

"And yet," Chris murmured, brushing a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth, "here you are. Enabling me."

Dax looked openly amused now, and smug, too, in that infuriatingly satisfied way that meant he was enjoying this far more than he planned to admit. His eyes were brighter due to the fact that Chris had moved first.

Chris noticed immediately.

His gaze narrowed, suspicious and entertained. "Why do you look so pleased with yourself?"

Dax’s thumb traced once at his hip beneath the coat. "You climbed into my lap."

Chris blinked, then scoffed. "For warmth."

"Of course," Dax said, deadpan.

Chris stared at him.

Dax held the look, calm and shameless, the smugness now impossible to miss. He wasn’t mocking him. He was delighted. Quietly, intensely delighted in that very Dax way, like Chris taking the initiative had rearranged his mood for the entire day.

Chris felt heat rise that had absolutely nothing to do with temperature.

"Oh," Chris said slowly, catching up. "You’re happy because I started this."

Dax’s mouth twitched. "I’m happy because my husband is comfortable."

Chris gave him a flat look.

Dax’s hand slid higher along his back under the coat, settling there with a sense of ownership that made the answer feel less deniable. "And because you started this."

Chris laughed, soft and helpless, and leaned in to kiss him again - briefly this time, almost like a reward.

"You’re ridiculous."

"You’re sitting on me."

"Strategically."

"Proactively," Dax corrected, visibly pleased.

Chris groaned. "You’re going to be unbearable about this."

"Yes," Dax said. "For weeks."

That made Chris laugh harder, then settle more comfortably against him, one hand sliding from Dax’s shoulder to his chest, where the black shirt was warm under his palm.

Outside, the city moved by in flashes of sun and glass and trees. Inside, the car felt small and private and full of Dax’s satisfaction.

Chris tipped his head, studying him. "How much longer?"

Dax’s thumb moved once at his waist. "Until what?"

Chris narrowed his eyes. "Don’t start. Until we get there."

Dax’s gaze drifted toward the window for a moment, tracking the flow of traffic before returning to Chris, who was still watching him with expectant, narrowed eyes. A slow, deliberate smile spread across Dax’s face.

"Not long now," he said, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through Chris where they were connected.

Chris’s expression didn’t soften. "That’s not an answer. That’s what people say when they’re avoiding the question."

"It’s an answer," Dax countered, his hand sliding from Chris’s back to rest possessively on his thigh. "You’re just not satisfied with it."

"I’m rarely satisfied with vague," Chris shot back, though he shifted slightly, pressing closer. "Try again. Minutes. Blocks. Landmarks. Give me something."

Dax’s thumb stroked the denim of Chris’s jeans, a slow, maddening rhythm. "Ten minutes," he finally conceded. "Fifteen, if traffic decides to misbehave."

"Acceptable," Chris said with a decisive nod. "That gives us time for further thermal research."

Dax laughed softly, his head falling back against the leather seat. "Is that what we’re calling it?"

"It’s scientific," Chris insisted, leaning in to brush his lips along Dax’s jaw. "I’m being very methodical."

"Methodical," Dax repeated, his free hand moving up to tangle in Chris’s hair. "Is that what you call this calculated invasion of my personal space?"

"It’s not an invasion if you’re enjoying it," Chris murmured against his skin. "Which you clearly are."

Dax didn’t deny it. Instead, he tilted his head to give Chris better access, his eyes closing briefly. "You’re insufferable when you’re right."

"I’m insufferable always," Chris corrected, though his voice had softened. "You just happen to appreciate it more in certain situations."

"Like when you’re sitting on my lap in a moving vehicle?" Dax suggested, his hand tightening in Chris’s hair.

"Especially then," Chris confirmed, pressing a kiss to the corner of Dax’s mouth. "Though I’m still cold, you know. This position requires frequent adjustments to maintain optimal warmth."

Dax’s eyes opened, dark with amusement. "Frequent adjustments?"

"Mm," Chris hummed, shifting experimentally. "For scientific purposes, of course."

"Of course," Dax echoed, his hands guiding Chris’s movements. "We can’t let the science suffer."

The car turned smoothly onto a tree-lined street, the dappled sunlight filtering through the tinted windows to paint shifting patterns across them. Chris watched the light play over Dax’s face, tracing the strong lines of his jaw and the curve of his mouth.

"You planned this," Chris said suddenly, his tone shifting from playful to curious.

"The date or the part where you end up in my lap?" Dax asked, though he already knew the answer.

"Both," Chris replied. "But mostly the part where I end up in your lap."

Dax’s smile was immediate and genuine. "I planned the date. The lap-sitting was a happy bonus."

"Happy bonus," Chris repeated with a soft laugh. "You make it sound like you won a prize."

"I did," Dax said simply, his eyes holding Chris’s with an intensity that stole the breath from Chris’s lungs. "Every time you look at me like that, I win."