I’m brought from my sleep by a familiar tune. I reach for my bedside table and get my phone. I stare up at the screen.
I don’t understand what I’m looking for a minute. I’m quicker to understand an alarm clock than a small handheld computer playing looping music.
Then the world seems to zoom right into place.
It’s not the caller I see, it’s the fact the time shows the hour is well past eight. By several hours.
I jerk into a seated position as I answer the phone in a hurry.
“I’m so terribly sorry, nurse.”
My voice is strangely hoarse. It doesn’t sound like this usually after I wake up.
My entire body is exhausted too. Just a bone deep exhaustion. It’s familiar, even if it slips my mind why I think so, but also not quite the same.
I’m feeling rejuvenated, too. Absolutely fan-fucking-tastic, unironically.
What the actual fuck?
“…You sound awful…” I hear the head nurse’s anger deflated before she even speaks and it’s still landing into a calmer register as she asks, “Caught the flu?”
“No, I’m—”
As I move to get up — to quickly get ready and head to work — I feel a hand around my wrist. I freeze in place, sparks going off in my whole body.
I look at it like I’ve never seen hands before.
Not only have I seen them and very many of them, I’ve poked them with needles for times than I can count. I’ve touched them. I’ve memorised the bones and muscles in them. I can visually determine where the best place to put an IV on the back of this specific hand.
I follow the line of the arm. My eyes land at the bend of the elbow. I’m registering that the blood vessel might not be that easy to draw blood from. I catch myself thinking I should check the other arm before I move my gaze toward the shoulder.
My gaze lands on Dex’s sleepy face, his green eyes half-lidded.
Mate.
I choke on my own saliva.
That wasn’t just the wildest wet dream? I—
What—
Oh no.
“You should stay home for a couple of days,” I hear through the phone line between my coughs.
“No, I…”
I stop myself, then agree.
What am I supposed to say?
Sorry, I lost control and fucked someone instead of getting dressed after breakfast, and that’s why I’m late by several hours?
“Sorry. I should have called in sick sooner. I might indeed need some rest,” I say, bowing my head to someone who couldn’t even see it.
In front of someone who certainly could see it and who never should have seen me do it.
I never thought I’d look so submissive in front of someone outside of work.
That’s not who I am. I don’t engage or de-escalate unless necessary to stand up. I avoid or ignore if it’s unnecessary. I show respect when possible.
But I never submit.
I’m just physically incapable of that.
“It’s rare for you to get sick. Just rest up, nurse Olivier.”
“Yes, I will. Thank you, nurse. Again, I’m so very sorry for not calling. It won’t happen again.”
I end the call and stare at the screen.
I’m trying to catch up.
My brain is not processing anything, though.
I toss my phone toward the foot end of the bed. It’s an escape route. Just in case. Sometimes you need to plan for that too.
When I bring my hands to my face, I feel the fingers holding onto me let go.
Something inside me immediately breaks. It’s painful.
Okay, I didn’t cross that threshold. That’s good. I haven’t done what can’t be undone.
I don’t know why I thought I did and had just forgotten about it.
My chest is not as painful as it’s been other times, but it feels bad in all the wrong ways. It doesn’t feel like separation. Not the kind I have dealt with for several months, at least.
And yet, I can’t tell what’s quite wrong either.
I rub my face; I pinch my nose bridge; I massage my temples and my jaw.
I ground myself in this.
It’s fine. I can do crises. I do them every day. I can handle this. Assess, re-examine the uncertain, diagnose, confirm, pick action plan. It’s nothing new.
I run my fingers through my hair.
And a second time.
I take a deep breath.
I can do this. I know so.
I can.
I—
I don’t know at all. It’s all fucking new.
I don’t know what I need to assess in the first place. Who the fuck is going to tell me what the fuck is going on?
I sure can’t.
I turn to the only other person available.
What facial expression am I making? I don’t think I’m being normal.
“…Hi…”
No, I’m not being normal. Who greets a person in their bed like that??
“Hello there,” he replies, like it’s a perfectly normal greeting.
“Uh…” I avert my eyes. “…So, I’m late for work.”
Dex’s expression softens into a smile, and he chuckles.
It makes something in my chest flutter. I want to lean over and kiss him until he giggles like a delighted child.
“I think you said you’re calling in sick? Come on, lie down, you too,” Dex says and pats the bed.
I should. Probably.
I can’t.
If I knew how to process this, I would lie down next to him. I have the strongest urge to lie down, pull him into a kiss and then—
Don’t think about it, Leopold. This is not the time.
“Are you okay?” I finally ask. “Can I get you anything? Water? Tea? Takeout?”
A house?
Car?
Pups?
A proper proposal?
“You can get me something.”
“Okay.” I wait for him to tell me what, but he doesn’t reply.
I have no idea what he might want.
Maybe water.
I would bring an omega water.
Well, I would also carry them to the bath and give them royal treatment. It’s the least I can do after someone endured an alpha’s rut.
But I’m not rutting.
Water is still good.
Let’s hydrate him. He probably needs at least that.
Not probably. He definitely does.
I get up. He doesn’t stop me.
I grab the dressing gown hanging where it hangs over a rack by the door.
Why would he stop me?
It’s my goddamn house. I can go wherever I’d like.
So can he.
I wouldn’t stop my mate, no matter where he goes.
No, wait.
No… actually.
Fuck it. I don’t think I have a say in this anymore.
I descend the stairs. I look list on the fridge.
Tea has been struck out.
Is there anything more mortifying than realising your housekeeper dropped by while you were… “busy”?
Okay, maybe she did while we were asleep.
I check the time.
She comes at 9:30.
So… how many hours can an alpha keep at it outside his rut? Probably… not more than two hours… I hope.
It wouldn’t be the first time she came while I have sex, to be honest. Far from it. She’s been in charge of making meals while I have my ruts, too.
But this is different.
It’s not a random rut companion.
It’s…
It’s my mate.
However unrequited it is.
I pour water into an ewer and find a tray and grab a couple of glasses. I consider ice, but conclude that wouldn’t be good for him.
Tray in hand, I soon return to the bedroom.
Aside from the water, there are a few fruits, a fruit knife. And some nuts. And roasted seed. And a small bag of crisps.
It’s all good for him.
Dex looks at the tray and then laughs and he makes himself even more comfortable in the bed.
He’s definitely not getting up. He has exactly zero intention to. Even a dumbfuck would be able to tell.
I know, because I’m the dumbfuck.
I place the tray on the bedside table and sit down on the edge of the bed.
I want to touch him. I crave to breathe his exhales. I wish to live in his orbit, like the moon orbits the earth.
His cheeks have a pink tint to them. As if the heated situation from earlier still remains within him.
Well… In a sense, it definitely does.
But I won’t think about that.
I can’t breed a male beta. I know that. It’s fine.
That’s not to say that I would indeed try to defy nature if he asked me to.
Anything he could ever want, I will give him.
“You don’t want to get up?” I ask.
“Nope. It smells like you. You always cover up your scent with patches or scent blockers. I’ve never breathed in your scent line this before.”
He inhales and my entire world hones in onto him.
“I like it.”
“That’s just from sleep. It’s nothing like my daytime scent.”
He holds his arm toward me, motioning for me to get closer. “Then let me experience your daytime scent.”
Against better judgement, I lean over. “Don’t. It’s very strong. Unusually potent. It may make you uncomfortable.”
“I’m around apexes all day. I barely notice it at all. I grew up with an apex — Miguel. How potent could yours possibly be?”
Why are you so stupidly confident?
I lower my head over him, face to face. I brush the tip of my nose against his.
“You’ll regret it,” I warn him as he starts pulling away the patch. “I mean it.”
Overconfident, he rips it off. It stings a little for a few seconds.
“Tell me if it’s too much,” I tell him.
I don’t quite know what I’m projecting right now.
That I want to breed him?
That I want to devour him?
That I want to make him my entire world?
Worry?
Mortification about the housekeeper?
Whatever it is, I soon see his face turn a brighter red that spreads to his ears. He’s adorable. I want him.
My mate.
I lower my head. I just can’t not do that. The urge to kiss him is too strong. I brush my lips against his in a chaste kiss.
He whimpers.
“Too intense?”
“No,” he stubbornly says.
“It’s okay. Anyone can find it too much. It’s normal.”
“It’s not too much.”
I take his jaw and harden my heart. “Your scent tells me you’re lying.” I need to inhale. My voice drops low when I tell him, “Be honest.”
Dex swallows.
I want to bite his Adam’s apple.
“It’s a little overwhelming… Sorry.”
I let out a pleased rumble, “Good boy.” I release his jaw and press a kiss on his forehead. “You did very well, sweetheart.”
I get up to put on a new patch and open the window to let some fresh air in.
I sit down on the bed and pull my mate into my lap before I pour water into a glass. I bring it to his lips wordlessly. He obeys well. That’s what I like to see. Good behaviour.
Not necessarily obedience, just good behaviour.
Not that I would punish bad behaviour either, unless it’s something heinous.
I watch him drink water and then let him settle in my lap, leaning against me. I began peeling an apple for him. I cut it into bite-sized pieces to feed them directly to him.
I have defaulted to care for my mate the way I have cared for an omega that’s willingly endured my rut.
That’s okay.
It’s easier that way. I don’t need to think too much about it. Don’t fix what ain’t broken.
As long as I don’t think—
“So… mate, huh?”
Well, fuck it.
I look down at Dex.
He says, “That’s a first. I’ve been called many things, but that’s not usually the word choice.”
“People say things and mate kink is a thing,” I say without batting an eye. “It doesn’t mean anything.”
He nuzzles into my chest.
If I wasn’t dealing with something else, I would show him what provoking an alpha means. I could certainly make him beg far more than he has so far.
“It’s a common kink,” I insist.
“I know. I just don’t believe you.”
I am pointedly quiet.
A part of me wants to explain. But how do I explain… anything?
“The stuffed animal is one thing, but this literally involved me. Or is this just… a onetime thing?”
I immediately bristle at the mere suggestion, but the hint of disappointment in his scent isn’t helping. “No! It is not!”
Mine.
“If it’s not, I think we do need a talk,” Dex tells me.
Of course I understand. That doesn’t mean I want to.
“So what is alpha’s thoughts on this?”
Something nearly blossomed out of my chest, I clamp it down, tie it and refuse to acknowledge it anymore.
I won’t let it out. It’s dangerous. I already loathe my unrestrained self. I can see his traces all over Dex’s upper torso.
I sigh. “I may have a certain interest in a certain person,” I say.
“Meaning?”
“Whatever you want is what I want. If it’s just casual, let it be so. If it’s serious, then it’s serious. I’m not closed to either option.”
One would just be more painful than the other.
Potentially torture, as if it wasn’t before.
As if it won’t be now.
“So if I want to try this…?”
God, when he looks up at me like that…
Mate.
I put the knife and apple pieces away.
Keep calm, Leo. You can do this. You have control over yourself.
I take his jaw in hand and tilt his head back a bit more before I attack his mouth with mine. Open up his mouth, unsatisfied with just his lips. I want his mouth, his breathe, his voice, his soul.
I touch the back of his neck with my fingers. I want to bite so bad. I want him to be only mine.
Mate.
Yes, mate. My mate.
I know.
He shivers under my touch.
I press open-mouthed kisses on his jaw and down to the column of his neck. I don’t stop teasing his gland before I’ve laid him down back onto the bed.
I can’t help it.
Every cell screams for me to be one with him. I want him so much.
His eyes are a little wet, and he pants heavily. His face is bright red. He really does flush very easily. It must be hard being an assistant with such little poker face.
I lower my head to nip at his collarbone before I move toward his gland.
Mate.
I won’t claim him.
I’m not a good person. I know that. But I’m at least not that bad.
“Leo, what does—”
I hush him. “I told you. What you want, I want too.”
I kiss him again. All I want is for him to be happy no matter what that means..