Chapter Text
”Addie, don’t call your Dad that.”
Her forehead wrinkles. “Why?”
”Because it’s…rude.”
”Well tell him to get his fart ass off the couch.”
Adrian suppresses a laugh. ”Where did you even learn that?”
”My fart ass is awake now, thanks.”
”I need you to drive me to soccer.”
Chris scratches his stomach like a bear emerging from hibernation.
“I thought soccer was over,” he says, groggily.
Adrian looks at him with wide eyes. ”They made the playoffs, Chris, remember."
”Oh yeah. Yes, I was there, I remember sweetie,” he says, trying to rub her smug face off with his thumb. “You had three saves.”
”Four,” she corrects him, arms crossed, always indignant. It reminds him that she’s due to present soon, and that there’s no way in hell that she’s anything but an alpha. “You’re always tired.”
”Four,” he repeats. “I know. It’s just this rotation I’m on, it’ll be over soon, I promise.”
Adrian gives him a sympathetic look.
“Want me to take Teddy?” he asks.
Chris looks over at his son, deep in concentration, coloring something black and blue and purple at the kitchen table. His hair is shaggy and curls like Adrian’s. He brushes it away from his eyes with the back of his crayon.
“No. He’s focused on his monsters.”
Something on the drawing catches his eye: Teddy's added a cartoonishly large dick and knot to the dragon, complete with realistic veins and all. His eyes bug wide.
“Is that…”
”Yeah." Adrian interrupts him. "It’s his new fascination. I don’t want to discourage it,” Adrian smiles widely. “It’s ‘healthy sexual exploration,'" he says, quoting something Chris isn't familiar with.
”Uh…”
Adrian pats him on the back and pushes him gently toward the door. ”It’s fine, you’re gonna be late.”
===============
“What, uh, what’re you texting?” Chris asks, one eye on the road and one on his daughter.
Addie blows the loose sandy brown hair out of her face, sitting up straight and putting her phone down.
”When are Aunt Ava and Emilia getting in?”
”Wednesday…” he tries to remember. “Wednesday night.”
”Is Uncle John coming?”
”Yes.”
”And you and Daddy are cooking dinner…?” she asks, unable to hide her apprehension.
”Yeah. Yes. We are. Is that a problem for you?” He jokes, trying to snag her ear lobe. She dodges him.
“No, I just…Grandma’s not even here to help…”
”And what?”
She stares at his face. In his peripheral vision, she looks so much like him: big chin, strong jaw, ears that stick straight out. His features are somehow beautiful on her though, softened by Adrian’s more petite genes.
”Mr. Woo is on standby, okay, you happy?”
She grins.
”I wanted orange chicken anyway.”
“You staying over Carter’s tonight?”
“Yeah.”
”Teddy?”
Addie rolls her eyes.
”Yeah I’m bringing the egg.”
He whips his head toward her.
”Egg?”
She stares blankly back at him.
”What is an egg?”
”Oh my god Dad, I’ve told you this like 20 times. Omega.”
“What? No you—wait a minute. Your brother’s too young to—what you mean he’s an egg?" His tongue struggles to decipher his scrambled thoughts. "Why would you say that?”
“Nothing. It’s just what kids at school say.”
”Did your grandfather teach you this?”
”No, Grandpa just wants to talk about sports..."
”I don’t like this…this Gen Z slang—“
”Alpha.”
”What?”
”It’s Gen-Alpha, Dad," she corrects him.
“Okay, now you’re just trying to confuse me.”
She huffs. ”I’m sorry, alright. I won’t call him an egg.”
”And you shouldn’t let anyone else call him that! I mean, there’s nothing wrong with being omega—but“
“Please don’t have a heart attack trying to be politically correct, ok?” She says in a mocking tone. “Daddy won’t survive without you.”
“He’s too young. No one knows how they’ll present—“
She's already started scrolling on her phone again. ”I know, I know."
”I’m serious!" He tries to swat at her phone with his eyes still on the road. “Put that away.”
”Jesus, ok!” She throws it in the glove compartment dramatically.
”Just because you think you’ll present alpha doesn’t mean you get to walk around calling people eggs.”
"He doesn't even notice, Dad, he's like Daddy..."
"It doesn't matter. You're family, family is supposed to stick together..."
”Here it comes…”
”You know how lucky you are to even be here? What your father and I went through just to make you? I wasn’t even—“
”You weren’t even from here, I know. And Daddy wasn’t an omega and Teddy and I are miracles, I've only heard this before like a thousand times.”
Chris grits his teeth. When did she lose all respect for me? When did I become the perpetual butt of the joke?
“You know, I thought all that time I was running through the jungle and bear crawling through the tundra was hard—“
“You’re so dramatic.”
”I am not—“
“You’re about to miss the turn.”
”Shit, fuck me!” He violently steers the car right into the parking lot, almost hitting a family of four unloading their car.
“Don’t do that.”
”You’re such a freak sometimes," she laughs.
”Hey! You get one name per day and fart ass met your quota.”
He reaches in the backseat for her kit.
”Fine. But Daddy told me you were kind of a bully in school so I think it’s genetic and it’s actually your fault.”
”I was not—I was not a bully,” he retorts, and hands her the bag.
”That’s not what he said.”
”I—“ he thinks for a second. “I was a little bit of a bully, okay."
"He told me what you did to him."
"It was one swirly and he was fine. Did he tell you that I protected him from much worse?"
She's back on her phone again.
"Who are you even texting? All your friends are here."
"Carter, Jesus, dad."
"Oh. Fine. Whatever.” He thinks about how to turn this into some sort of lesson. “You have to learn to respect omegas."
"I do! I'm not a bigot." Her voice cracks halfway through the word. "Half my friends are going to be omegas."
"Okay fine,” he relents, scratching the stubble on his chin. "Friendship might be harder after that though."
"Not for me," she says under her breath.
"What does that mean?"
"It means...I don't know." She stares out the window. "Omegas might not be my thing."
"Oh...okay. I mean, that's fine." His stomach flips over itself, not because she might be different, but because he's scared of fucking the moment up. "If that's the case. I would love—your dad and I will love you no matter what."
"I know," she sighs. Chris wishes he could turn back time for her, delay puberty by another few years.
"Practice is starting, you should go."
He watches as she opens the car door and walk towards the field and greet her friends. She's so much like him, he’s sometimes scared to even watch. He sits there, malingering in the bittersweet feeling of watching his eldest child grow out of him, when he’s interrupted by a knock on the passenger side window. He rolls it down.
"Hey Tim."
"Hey Chris. How are you?"
"Oh you know, same old. Didn't think we'd still be dragging them to practice in November."
"I hear you.” Tim pockets his hands in his goose-down vest. “You know I daydreamed about sabotaging the team last night, maybe lacing their Gatorade with Benadryl to make them sleepy and uncoordinated," he jokes. "I'm so sick of driving them all over this state."
Chris laughs. "It's a curse, isn't it?"
"Stella says the kids are coming over tonight?"
"Yep. I'll drop them off at 5."
"Great. Carter is excited. He never stops talking about your daughter."
"Yeah, they always seem to be texting." A thought clicks into place. "Hey, you'll be there...all night, right?"
Tim furrows his brow.
"Yeah. Of course. Why?"
"Nothing, nothing. I'll talk to you later," he says, waving goodbye.
Well, if she likes alphas, at least I won't have to worry about her getting some little egg pregnant, he thinks. That's all I need, another baby in house.
=====================
"You've got three more chicken nuggets to eat."
Teddy ignores him.
"Teddy, hey," he knocks on the table, trying to get his attention through his big blue headphones. "Chicken nuggets."
He stuffs two in his mouth at once and looks back down at his tablet.
Adrian walks by and ruffles his hair.
"We doing tablets at the table again?" He asks him.
"Yeah. He earned it, remember? Read 10 books this month."
"I don't remember—I don't remember anything." Adrian starts kneading the knot in his shoulder as old as Teddy. Chris completely forgets his train of thought and melts into his hands.
"He doesn't talk to me anymore," he complains.
Adrian moves to his left shoulder.
"He's just at that age."
"He talks to you."
"Yeah, well..."
"I tried learning the rules to Magic the Gathering, okay, and I couldn't..."
"You flipped the table," Teddy interrupts him, without looking up from his screen.
"Oh, now you want to talk to your Dad?"
"Okay. I think you need a nap, huh?" He stops massaging and pinches his shoulder to signal him to calm down. "I'll take them over."
The kids grab their overnight bags and run out the door like they can't stand to be in his presence for one more second. As the door slams shut behind them, he’s left with that feeling, the living nightmare one, where he's woken up and stumbled to the mirror and, to his horror, become his dad.
He grabs a Rainier from the fridge to drown out the feeling, drinks half of it while sitting on the couch staring mindlessly at the black screen of their tv, and then promptly falls asleep sitting up.
====================
The sound of the back door opening startles him awake. He tries to remember what day it is. The trailer is dark. The microwave reads 11:14 p.m. It's Saturday; the kids are sleeping over at Tim's.
He stands up.
"Adrian?"
Curtains rustle, a drawer opens and shuts. A faint light in their bedroom beckons him forward.
"Adrian?" He calls again.
The door is slightly ajar and he can see a figure moving around in their room.
"Where were you?"
He pushes it open, and Adrian whips around, leaning against their dresser. He's wearing one of his white t-shirts and gray sweatpants, holding something behind his back.
"Did you just come home?"
Adrian's eyes shift left and right.
"Uh, no."
He looks at him, incredulously.
"I was just out at the grocery store, getting stuff for Thanksgiving."
Blood begins thumping in his temples. "Store? Everything closes at 10."
Adrian's eyes shift again.
"Uh, yeah. I just. I—“
"Are you lying to me?”
"I'm not—“
"What's behind your back?" He takes a step toward him. Adrian counters right, keeping his back turned away.
"Adrian..."
"Chris..."
The thumping gets louder. "Don't mock me. What’s behind your back?"
He's got him backed up in the corner of the room. Chris pins him against the closet doors and grabs hold of the thing he's so desperate to hide.
"Are you serious?"
"It's not what it looks like," Adrian whines, trying to push him away. He's breathing heavy, hormones piqued.
"Were you seriously out patrolling?"
He releases him. "A few hours, yeah."
Chris throws his vigilante mask across the room. "What'd I tell you about going out on your own?"
”You told me observe and report—“
“Unless I’m there.”
”Exactly, and that’s what I did.”
“Without telling me—“
"Jesus, Chris. Calm down. You're acting like I was out cheating on you or something."
He takes a step back. The joke strikes him as callous, cruel. "You wouldn't dare.” He would lose his fucking mind if he ever found out someone touched him like that. If Adrian ever opened his legs and welcomed anyone else into his tight heat. He'd burn half the town to the ground if anyone other than him ever felt the press of his calves around their hips, or heard the high pitched whine in their ear and the clench of his orgasm surround them, driving them over the edge and off the cliff.
Adrian tries to walk around him. "Stop acting like an asshole."
Chris grabs him from behind and wraps his arm around his neck, putting him in a headlock, mouth strategically positioned near his bonding mark.
"You cheating on me? Huh?” He murmurs into his ear.
Adrian tries to hook his right foot around the back of his ankle to bring them both to the ground but Chris is quicker. He pins him underneath his body against the bedsheets before he can take his next breath.
"No," he whimpers. “You’re such a—fuck, you’re so big—knot head.”
"Is this what you wanted?" Adrian grips the forearm pressing up against his neck. He doesn't need to use much pressure. The weight of his body keeps him fully contained.
"I said no,” he strains against him.
Chris ruts into him, knot catching on the cleft of his ass. Adrian's arm shoots out to push him off but Chris grabs it and holds it down above his head, fingers interlaced with his.
"Shi-"
"Is this what you wanted?" He asks again, teeth grazing his blooming bonding mark, flushed red with desire.
"This isn't about my safety. You only care about getting what you want—“
Chris pulls his sweatpants down over his ass.
“And I want you, just like this."
“Fuck you, you don’t own me.” Adrian writhes underneath him, the last of his resistance faltering along with his ability to speak.
"You need to be reminded who you belong to, Adrian Chase?" He taunts, rubbing his quickly inflating knot against his ass again.
”Will that make you feel better? Make you feel more like an alpha?"
Chris pulls his head back by his hair so his neck veins pop, blood pumping like he's running uphill. He starts stimulating his scent gland with his tongue. Adrian whines in that high pitched tone that drives Chris blind with desire.
"Do you deserve it?"
Adrian braces his hands up against the bed frame, signaling surrender.
“Maybe.”
Chris slips two fingers into his soft warmth, eliciting a low hiss. He puts pressure on that spot. Adrian tries to hold back a moan, not wanting to give him what he wants—a reaction—but is largely unsuccessful, making Chris harder than ever. He’s so wet, uncharacteristically so and it sends him on a downward spiral. He’s already forgotten what’s real and what’s shared fantasy.
”Ohhhyeahh," Adrian hums.
“I said, do you deserve it?”
"Yes, fuck you, do it," his body is tense, back muscles taut, arms extended above his head.
“Say it again, be a good boy.” He slaps his ass. Adrian’s scent spikes in response.
“Yes. I need it,” he responds, breathing fast, anticipation building.
He quickly pulls himself out of his jeans and lines up, needing no extra foreplay to slide in.
”This…” he grabs handful of his fat ass and squeezes it hard. “Is mine,” he says, seating himself fully inside him, hips wrapping around his backside.
“Yours, fuck me, please,” he begs, as if he’s not already doing it. His slim fingers reach around and grip the back of his thick neck. He resists the urge to tell him how much he fucking missed this; how distant he feels when they haven’t touched each other in days; how there’s a part of him that wishes it was just the two of them again.
”You think you can do whatever you want, don't you?"
Adrian screams with pleasure into the pillow as Chris pistons into him. It’s hard and fast and just the way he likes it.
"You think you're so liberated, huh?"
He bites the fabric, words affecting him just as much as his cock, seated deep inside him.
"I feed you, I protect you, I pay for the roof over your head."
"Christ—fuck—" the expletives and incoherent babble come out muffled as Chris gives it his all, slamming him through their Tempur-Pedic, using the very last of his energy. He can’t remember the last time they fucked for more than five minutes. One of these days, they’ll take a vacation, and store up enough energy for the type of marathon sex they used to have, before they had two kids and two full-time jobs and an aging, slightly demented eagle to care for.
"I give you my kids—"
"Oh my fucking god—"
"Make you cum when you don't deserve it—"
"Chris, I'm close—" Adrian's shifted them into doggy, rubbing himself between thrusts.
He pulls them onto their knees so they're chest to back. Chris twists Adrian's sensitive right nipple and he loses all semblance of control.
"And I need to fuck you like this—“
"Yes, oh fuck, I'm going to bust, oh fuck—“ Adrian screams mid-sentence. He's meeting his thrusts with his own backward movement, wanting it so bad.
”—just to keep you in line.”
He bites down on his bonding mark and hits him with one more sharp thrust. Adrian cries out as he shoots onto his own chest, muscles clenching and sending a sharp spike of almost painful pleasure down to the tips of his toes.
"Holy fuck," they both yell, gasping in overwhelming pleasure.
Chris feels the aftershock of his orgasm relax every single one of his sore muscles.
==============
They lay on their backs, sweat drying, Adrian's head on his shoulder, Chris’s arm wrapped around his torso and hand resting possessively on his hip.
"That was exactly what I asked for," Adrian croons.
"Yeah?" Chris responds, too tired to even open his eyes.
"I love that jealous alpha shit." He turns and starts stroking his graying chest hair. "Remember when you could barely string two dirty words together?"
"Yeah. Well, I've had some practice," he says, patting him on the ass.
"How was patrolling, by the way?"
"Boring. Ended up just watching two security guards blow each other in an alleyway."
"That sucks."
"Thank me for my service later."
Chris squeezes his ass.
"We actually do need to go grocery shopping tomorrow."
"Yeah, I know. I gotta pick up my script from the pharmacy anyway. I'm like a week late," Adrian says, voice fading as he begins to fall asleep in his arms.
"Your suppressants?"
"Yeah."
A beat passes, and then his eyes shoot open.
"Week late picking it up or week late taking it?"
"Both."
He sits up abruptly.
"What?"
"I missed my shot this month," he admits, sheepishly.
"What?!"
"I'm sorry. I just..."
"It's the same time every month."
"I know—it's these nights. I have a hard time keeping track of the days."
He can smell their mutual distress growing.
"I can get you Plan B, I—"
Adrian shoulders suddenly relax.
"No, it's fine. It's fine, really. I'm only off by a week, and I'm too old anyway.
"Only by like a year.”
"Yeah, but it took so long to get pregnant with Teddy, it would be crazy to conceive from one off-cycle fucking."
Chris's shoulders relax. "You're right."
"It was a really good fucking though," Adrian jokes, pulling Chris back down to cuddle.
"Yeah. You weren't so bad yourself," he yawns, and clicks the bedside lamp off.
All of his fear and frustration and anxiety melt away. His kids might hate him and he might never feel awake again, but a day is only hard without him.
"I'd be a miracle baby for sure," Adrian whispers to him in the dark, and Chris doesn't remember anything else, because he slips into sleep not a second later.
= = = = = =
"Fuck yeah, Addie!" he loudly claps from the top of the wet bleachers, watching her lunge and catch the ball mid-air.
Teddy's beside him, holding his hot chocolate with both hands to keep them warm, trying to look brave in his yellow rain jacket even though he hates "outside" almost as much as he hates food with too much texture.
He checks his phone and frowns. No messages. Adrian was supposed to show up 15 minutes ago. He's going to be upset if he misses more of her final game.
He feels a hand on his shoulder a few minutes later.
"Hey," Adrian says, sidling up next to him.
"What's the score?"
"0-0." Chris takes a quick look at his face, and sees that his eyes are slightly red.
"You good?"
Adrian stares at him.
"Your mom?" He mouths.
He shakes his head, and then sighs. He pulls something out of his jacket and slips it into Chris's hand, keeping his eyes trained forward on the game. It feels like a pen.
Chris clandestinely looks down, unsure of what news Adrian brings and not wanting to alarm Teddy. He lays eyes on an object he hasn't seen in over a decade.
Oh fuck.
Adrian watches him warily as the realization dawns on him.
Diapers. College fund. Early retirement down the drain. He does some quick math. I'll be in my 60s when this kid graduates high school.
He can feel the blood drain from his face. Adrian squeezes his hand. No sleep, screaming, doctor's visits, swollen ankles. He takes a deep breath to calm himself down, focusing hard on the good. Tiny hands, chubby cheeks, pregnancy hormones, another kid to love and then hate him, and then hopefully love him again. Chris squeezes back.
He slowly raises Adrian’s arm towards his face and gently kisses the back of his hand. Adrian stares, eyes shining. He looks hard at the face of the man he's loved for 13 years, wanting to silently communicate every pure and impure thought he’s ever had toward him, wanting him to know that he wants him, all of him, every day and all the time. He looks down at Teddy, and then over at Addie standing inside the goal, and feels such pride that it almost makes him faint.
A day is only hard without them.
The crowd cheers. Chris has no idea why. His vision's gone a bit dotty.
Miracle baby it is.