Lucien had barely turned the handle on the shower before the door clicked open.

Leon sauntered in, looking as natural as if he were walking into a boardroom.

"Who gave you permission?" Lucien squeaked, the water plastering his black hair to his forehead.

"You bought all that soap," Leon noted, eyeing the crate. "I'm here to help you use it. Besides, we're saving water."

Lucien grit his teeth, his pale skin flushing under the spray. Saving water? Since when did the Bolton heir care about utility bills?

"I'm not sharing," Lucien huffed, thrusting a bar of soap toward Leon's chest. "Take it and get out."

Leon reached for it, his large hand brushing Lucien's. The wet bar did a somersault, sliding across the tile with a definitive thwack.

Silence filled the steamed-up room.

"Pick it up, baby," Leon commanded, a predatory tilt to his head.

Lucien didn't move. He instinctively covered his rear with both hands. "No way. You've told me before—turning my back is a provocation."

Leon let out a low, dark chuckle. "I wouldn't dream of provoking you. But honestly, picking it up or not won't change the outcome."

He moved with that effortless heavyweight grace, closing the distance until Lucien was pinned against the marble.

"We haven't done this in the bathroom yet, have we?" Leon murmured, his breath hot against Lucien's ear.

Leon didn't wait for an answer. He hooked his arms under Lucien's knees and hoisted him up.

It was a carry Lucien had learned to fear. It meant depth. It meant Leon's massive frame taking up every inch of his space.

Lucien felt like a piece of melting sugar under the hot spray, his legs dangling uselessly as Leon claimed him.

He tried to kick, but the movement only allowed Leon to sink deeper. Lucien's head fell back against the wall, his mouth falling open to let out broken, breathless sounds that the water tried to swallow.

By the time Leon carried him back to the bedroom, Lucien's arms were lead. His thighs were an indicting map of red marks and teeth indents.

As Leon tucked him into the duvet, Lucien managed to hook a finger around Leon's wrist.

"The soap," Lucien rasped, his voice a dry crackle. "How many did we... use?"

Leon smirked, kissing Lucien's damp temple. "Two bars. At this rate, we'll clear the crate in a month."

Lucien groaned, his vision swimming. Merde.

Leon started to stand, but Lucien's grip tightened. Lucien blinked his amber-gray eyes, looking like a lost lamb.

"Are you... going somewhere? Stay. Sleep here."

Leon had planned to finish some work, maybe squeeze in a late-night session on the heavy bag to kill the remaining adrenaline. But one look at Lucien's drowsy, pleading expression and the plan dissolved.

"Fine," Leon whispered, his voice rough.

He slid into the bed, pulling the small, soft body against his chest. Lucien curled into the heat, finding a familiar notch in Leon's shoulder. Leon was a furnace in the winter chill, and Lucien was out cold before the lights even hit the floor.

The snow didn't stop for three days.

Lucien spent the mornings acting like a reclusive hermit—movies, video games, and nursing his sore muscles.

Leon was deep in training for an away match. Every morning, he would "dig" Lucien out of the warm sheets like a stubborn tuber. He'd wash him, dress him in oversized knits, and pack him into the SUV like a fragile parcel.

Lucien would usually wake up fully only once they reached the private training facility's lounge.

"Morning, baby," Leon would murmur, pressing a floury kiss to his cheek after bringing him a breakfast bun.

Lucien yawned, wandering out toward the lounge's kitchenette when he spotted a huddle in the corner. Joey and Rick were crouched over a cardboard box.

"What is that?" Lucien asked, his slippers padding silently over the tile.

The group parted. Inside the box was a tiny, scruffy golden head.

"A puppy!" Lucien gasped.

"Found him in a box on the side road," Joey said, scratching his head. "Looks like someone dumped the poor little chicken feather."

The puppy licked Lucien's finger, its tail doing a frantic, weak wag.

"He's so small," Lucien whispered, his heart doing a painful somersault. "Joey, can I... can I have him?"

"He's all yours, kid. Leon probably won't mind. He's a sucker for small things."

Lucien didn't wait. He scooped up the box and sprinted toward the gym floor where Leon was finishing a set.

Leon looked up, flouring his hands. He saw the box, then the "please don't say no" look in Lucien's eyes.

"Where did that come from?" Leon asked, eyeing the scruffy animal.

"Joey found him. Can we keep him? S'il te plaît?"

Leon didn't care about dogs. He cared about Lucien. If a four-legged "chicken feather" made the boy smile like that, he'd build a kennel made of gold.

"Fine. But he sleeps in a crate."

They named him Coco.

The afternoon was a whirlwind of pet stores. Leon stood back with a stoic expression while Lucien filled a cart with organic kibble, plush toys, and a bed that cost more than Lucien's first car.

By evening, Coco was a permanent fixture in the apartment, skidding across the hardwood floors.

Leon's patience, however, was thinning.

Lucien hadn't looked at Leon for four hours. He was on the floor, tummy-to-tummy with the dog.

"Okay, baby," Leon finally intervened, plucking Lucien off the rug. "Let the animal sleep."

"I want Coco to sleep with us," Lucien said, his eyes bright with a dangerous idea.

Leon's face darkened instantly. "No. No dogs on the bed."

Lucien huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Why not? The big dog is allowed on the bed."

Leon paused, a slow smirk spreading across his face. He leaned down, caging Lucien against the sofa.

"The big dog knows how to follow orders," Leon rumbled. "And the big dog doesn't shed."

"I'm sleeping with Coco," Lucien insisted, chin lifted defiantly.

"I'm not doing anything tonight, baby," Leon promised, his voice dropping into that smooth, manipulative register. "I just want to hold you."

Lucien let out a sharp, mocking laugh.

"Yeah, right. That's like a guy saying he'll just 'rub it' and never go in. You think I'm stupid?"

Leon went silent, his gray-blue eyes narrowing.

"Merde," Lucien whispered, realizing he'd just challenged the wolf. "I... I mean..."

Leon didn't say a word. He just scooped Lucien up and headed for the bedroom.

"Coco!" Lucien shrieked. "Help!"

Coco just chewed on a rubber bone, completely unbothered by the kidnapping.