Chapter Text
Jason isn’t really sure what’s going on, but he’ll take it. Chrissy starts to call him on the phone again, and even takes him out to lunch once in a while. Sometimes she and Eddie pick him up together, and it’s almost like some kind of crazy triple date. He tries not to fuss with his hair too much or go through too many shirts on these occasions, but he’s pretty sure his brothers suspect something. And even if Hawkins was a better place to keep one’s business private, anyone can smell that Chrissy is an Alpha, these days.
Jason shivers at the thought, currently staring down at the three shirts laid out on his bed. Christ in Heaven preserve him, Chrissy smells amazing, rich and bitter like dark beer, and hot like red pepper, with that delicate, feminine white musk that holds it all together. It drifts and hangs around her in the most marvelous, distracting cloud. Jason has seen it turn heads as she goes by, and even as he wants to snap at everyone to keep their eyes on the road and mind their business, he understands. She’s like a lodestar, swinging every needle.
“I like the blue one,” Luke says softly, and Jason only doesn’t jump out of his skin because the kid’s milky, baby Beta scent announced him a couple of seconds before. He’s really quiet, just hanging out in the doorway. It’s cracked open to let the various fans even try to do some good.
“You think?” Jason asks, even as he picks it up and pulls it on over his undershirt. It’s another layer in the heat, but it will keep the sweat from showing.
“Yeah,” Luke says, putting one bare foot on top of the other, the way kids do. “It goes with your eyes, an’ I like the horse.”
Of course the kid likes the horse on a polo shirt. Jason gives him a smile as he tucks it in. “Yeah, buddy, I like the horse too.”
Today they’re going on a damn picnic, like that’s normal. But Chrissy had just chirped that it was going to be a lovely day, and that since all of them were free, wouldn’t it be nice to go on up to Fowler’s Field like they used to do when they were kids? Even without the inducement of Chrissy and her nana putting up a nice basket, and their old spot being on the perfect, lazy bend of the river for wading and swimming, Jason knows that he can’t possibly refuse. Besides, even with all the internal turmoil Eddie causes him, the thought of seeing the guy actually doing something healthy and outdoorsy is just too tempting. Jason can’t even imagine it.
They’re meeting at Nana Cunningham’s house (he thinks of her as such to distinguish her from Chrissy’s horrible mother, Mrs. Cunningham) and Jason is right on time, pulling into the driveway and slipping his usual contribution to picnics into Eddie’s van with practiced ease. Chrissy has always tried to be a good girl, but a nip or two of peach schnapps never goes amiss. It’s like drinking a Jolly Rancher, but Jason does like peach candy. That done, he goes up the steps and rings the bell. A moment later Chrissy flings the door open, beaming at him.
Chrissy has always been beautiful. Even before puberty was any kind of real issue, Jason would have said Chrissy was pretty, if asked, but it has always been a shy, timid, washed-out pretty. Thin, pale, delicate, muted. Now she seems to fill the world, everything about her thicker, brighter, more vivid, more there. Her scent envelops him like a fog bank, and her hair gleams like fire. Her face is lovelier than ever, filled out and flushed with health.
“There you are!” she says, and pulls him into a tight hug with new strength. Fuck. Jason is so doomed.
Nana Cunningham comes out of the kitchen to wish them a good time, Eddie following behind her with one of the enormous old picnic baskets the family has always used. His hair is up, something that Wayne says Omegas only do when they feel secure, and Jason feels like he can’t unsee it, and he looks healthier too, these days. Like he gets more sun, and Jason is only realizing the full extent of his habitual wariness in its absence. All of them thank Nana Cunningham for her help, promise to be safe and have a good time, and head out the door. As they climb into the van, Jason can see Eddie noticing the bottle of schnapps, big brown eyes sparkling with amusement.
Once they’re safely in, doors shut, engine and radio on (still the same demonic music as always, but at least it’s at a lower volume, now) Eddie chuckles, neatly backing the massive vehicle out of the driveway, making brief eye contact with Jason before he pulls forward. “Demon liquor, Carver? And I thought you were a nice boy.”
Chrissy giggles as Eddie drives off. “He is a nice boy! Jason always brings me peach schnapps for picnics.”
“I see, I see. Our sweet-faced May queen, a hardened libertine…” he taps his hands on the steering wheel, like he’s pondering the words as a lyric, and Jason snorts. “Hey, respect the process, Carver!” Eddie snaps in mock annoyance, sending Chrissy into another little fit of the giggles. It goes straight to Jason’s heart, because he can’t believe that he didn’t notice how completely those had dried up by the time of Chrissy’s breakout.
Most people know the general way to Fowler’s Field, but once they get there, Eddie switches off the music (and Jason will not admit it to anyone, but Sweet Leaf is a pretty good song, even if he probably shouldn’t be listening to anything by an act that call themselves Black Sabbath) and lets Chrissy guide him down these back roads that Jason could follow in his sleep. The nostalgia is a breathtaking pain in his chest that’s almost pleasant, watching for each landmark and familiar turn, the branches of the trees meeting overhead to bathe them in green-tinted sunlight.