Chapter Text
It was summer now and it felt like the world had slowed down for a moment. Or by any means Will felt less like he had to hold onto everything - they had settled down again and life seemed calmer. They were both busier than ever and it suited them just fine.
His heart had shattered, but as long as they never talked about it again, he could pretend that they were still best friends with no complicated strings binding their past.
But there was. There were years of entanglement: the exact thing that Will had tried to avoid. Will had always thought he had a good grasp on his life and his choices. As an omega, he had learned early on that he had to survive in this world despite himself - that who he was would be the biggest problem for him. That he was entering spheres of society that weren’t used to an omega being there and wouldn’t appreciate it.
He’d been lucky to start Youtube before it became an absolute rat race, before monetising everything and eeking out every last detail from someone’s personality became currency. He had been able to make friends through that, in a more gentle way, a more natural way. Even in the Eboys days, being the only Omega in the group didn’t seem particularly problematic. No one mentioned it, and anything that did happen he kept to himself.
He’d been bad at dating though. A few failed, and frankly fucked up, relationships later and he’d written himself off as impossible to love. And a few years after realising that (and the future he’d lose within that), he’d made peace with it and poured everything into his videos.
There had been a few instances then, touches between him and James… but he’d never let it go further. James was a good man - he deserved a mate that an Alpha might actually be proud of. Will tended to hide who he was when possible, blockers and scent patches and making no attempt to act in any way that might get him in trouble.
He was fully aware of how to avoid the dangers that came with being in Alpha dominated space, how to remain unseen in crowded rooms, how to keep his heart protected from the storms that raged just beneath the surface. He knew his place. He was an omega, one who could choose his path, but always with care, always with caution.
But somewhere along the line he’d fucked up. He’d let James into his heart, they’d become the sort of friends where people expected an announcement that never came. The sort of friends that talk about possible futures and are only able to relax in each other's company. The sort of friends where he’d let James crash at his place after a gig too close to a heat.
Will had gotten up the next day with some soundness of mind - a sick internal commentary reminding him that James was always thorough in what he did - and sat there thinking slowly. It really ought to have been the end point of his life, that’s what he should have felt.
But he just felt guilty.
He didn’t ever bother with a nest, purposely keeping things that might bring him comfort away so he couldn’t grab them when he was in heat. But there he was, pulling James in at midnight and practically begging, burying his nose in the Alpha’s neck.
Burying the friendship.
He downed two painkillers alongside a blocker and got his running gear on, James was still asleep in his bed but Will knew he had to get away from the scent. He couldn’t admit that he wanted it more than anything. That night had been the first time he could remember that he hadn’t hated what he was, that he’d have happily stayed there in James’ arms forever.
But he couldn’t do that to James. So he went running, pushing his body as far as it would go so soon after a heat, not caring that he probably stunk of them both. He just needed to move.
And when he came back his flat was empty, the smell lingered, and he let himself cry for the first time in years.
Maybe it’s because he’d dreamed of it so much, or because it made logical sense that he almost felt prepared for this. He was prepared for the fact that whatever comfort he had found in James as a friend was now gone. He’d gone too far with his stupid impulses. He’d ruined the one good friendship he had.
A blur of heated touches and emotions that neither of them could have stopped, no matter how hard they’d tried. It wasn’t supposed to happen. They weren’t meant to be together in that way. Will had always been careful to never cross the line, careful to protect his own boundaries. But at that moment, neither of them had been careful enough. And now, there was no going back - he had ruined everything.
It wasn’t that Will didn’t care for James. He did, more than anything. He’d never admit to how much he loved James. But their relationship had never been more than a slow, drawn-out dance, one that was carefully measured and deeply personal. That night had shattered something between them. It had crossed a line that neither of them could erase, and now the consequences were here, staring Will down.
And he had to accept it. James was still around - he didn’t need to rely on Will for money anymore but they both benefitted from doing videos together. Even a month after the fact they were back together in the studio, whatever was left of their friendship covering the tension.
He was prepared to spend the next several years trying to rebuild that just to have James in his life somehow.
But nothing, not a single thing, had prepared him for this.
The nausea had started off small: a queasy feeling in his stomach that came and went. He thought it was stress, or the years of using blockers finally catching up to him. He thought it was just the weight of everything in his life suddenly coming to a head. But when his heat cycle came and went without so much as a hint of any fever or slick, Will started to worry.
The bright studio lights flickered on above them, creating an almost medical atmosphere in the quiet room - he’d never realised quite how sterile it was. How cold he’d made the space. Will sat across from James, his hands wrapped tightly around the cold ceramic of his coffee mug, the steam rising lazily in front of him. It was supposed to be a normal recording day. Normal for them, anyway.
But that hadn't been the case in what felt like forever.
The events from last month still hung like a thick fog between them, unspoken, unresolved. The heat. The collision of instincts. The rush of chemistry that neither of them had anticipated when James had gotten stranded in London. Wrong place and wrong time.
He’d never meant for it to happen, Will was sure of that. Not in that way. Will had been in the middle of a particularly bad week, feeling more fragile than usual and not thinking about his pills - he hadn’t even noticed until James was already next to him on the sofa. And James? He had been too close, too understanding, too... Alpha, in the most overwhelming way. The boundaries blurred, and they'd both lost control.
And worse still they’d both wanted it so badly.
It had only been once. They'd never spoken about it since, as if they were both too afraid to acknowledge what had happened. Now, here they were, forced into the same space again, the tension like a weight on their shoulders.
Will glanced at James out of the corner of his eye. He was sitting at the desk, adjusting the microphone on his shirt, his focus on the table in front of him. The soft rustling of paper and the click of buttons filled the silence, but it was distant to Will, his mind racing.
It hadn’t hit him immediately. The aftereffects of their shared heat, the confusion, the guilt. He'd done his best to bury it. To keep his mind occupied with the work. But today? Today, it was different.
Will’s stomach twisted again, the nausea he'd been ignoring for a week too strong to push down anymore. He’d doused himself in cheap perfume that might hide the scent a little. He gripped the edge of the table, his breath shallow, begging his body to not throw up. It felt as if his body was betraying him. Like his instincts, his Omega nature, were calling for him to understand something he didn’t want to accept.
Pregnancy.
His heart hammered in his chest as the truth settled deeper into his bones. The signs had been there. The missed heat cycle. The constant fatigue. The fainting he never told anyone about, the dizzying headaches, the way everything now smelt too bright. But it wasn’t until this morning, when the nausea had hit him harder than usual, that he’d realised what was happening.
He was pregnant. And the father? It had to be James. No one else.
And suddenly he had a problem he couldn’t run away from, he wasn’t going to be able to bury his head in the sand and hope it would all go away… was he now the stereotype that was still so heavily shunned at school? An unbonded omega knocked up and alone?
Fucked if he was ever getting a sponsor after this.
A sharp breath escaped Will's lips as he straightened in his chair, pressing a hand to his stomach. He couldn’t tell James. Not like this. Not when they were already walking on thin ice.
James’ voice suddenly cut through his thoughts. “Will?”
Will’s heart skipped a beat as he looked up, catching James’ eye. There was something there, something almost too tender in James’ gaze, like he could sense the tension in the room, the unspoken words between them. It made Will want to look away, but he held his ground.
“Yeah?” Will replied, his voice just a little too shaky. He had to keep breathing manually to avoid throwing up, but every single breath was so full of the only smell that could bring him comfort, so full of what brought him pain. James. James with his big hazel eyes and warm smile.
“You okay? You look a little... off.”
Will forced a smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m fine. Just tired. The usual.”
James frowned, not convinced, but he didn’t press further. “If you’re sure.”
There was something in James’ tone; something soft and cautious. It reminded Will of how they'd been in the moments after the heat. James had been quieter around him since, almost hesitant. As if he was waiting for Will to make the first move, to break the silence - neither one had moved in the end. They’d stayed half tangled and sweaty until they fell asleep. It was probably for the best that Will hadn’t followed his gut instinct to curl up in James’ arms and never let go, James had left without a word by the time Will had come back from his run.
Will wasn’t sure if that was because James regretted it or because he felt guilty. Couldn’t blame him either way.
And Will? Will wasn’t sure if he regretted it, either - why ruin a good friendship (his best friendship) over an unfortunate night?
“I think we should start recording,” Will said quickly, eager to push the moment aside. He stood up from his chair, his legs slightly shaky. “This shit won’t rank itself.”
James raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue. “Sure. What are we eating today?”
“Healthy snacks,” Will nodded, swallowing hard, wiping his hands down on his sweater. “Let’s just get this over with.”
And it felt natural again, he was fannying around, James was teasing. They both fell into the rhythm with little pretending. He didn’t feel too ill at first, if anything he welcomed being able to eat without gagging, taking decent bites of each thing to make up for missing breakfast and throwing up dinner the day before.
He didn’t even care when James commented on it. It was just part of the constant ‘your mum’ jokes, accent jokes, teeth and square head jokes. It made him feel safe in a weird way, to know James was so comfortable with him to do that, to take some bullying in return.
“Your mum’s coming to one of my shows,” James commented with a silly smile.
“You scared?” Will looked up from the food he was still eating.
“Yeah, a little bit,” James nodded, his expression earning a laugh from the crew, “I wanna make a good first impression.”
Will snorts, “That ship's sailed, fella. You’ve been talking about bumming her for seven years.”
“You know what I mean,” James’ gaze softened, “I feel like I ought to know your family.”
“That’s not helping the rumours.” Ieuan smirked behind the camera, “It’ll be shared christmases next-”
“Right, cut a bunch of that out of the edit,” Will shook his fork at them, “I do not need to deal with this on Twitter.”
He didn’t catch the way James’ smile fell slightly.
It was during a brief break while they both lounged out on the sofas that Will felt it again. A sharp, twisting sensation in his stomach - he sipped his water carefully and breathed through it, fighting the wave of nausea, and kept his eyes firmly on his phone screen.
“You sure you’re okay?” James asked, his voice less distant now, like he could sense Will pulling further away.
“I’m fine,” Will repeated, his words coming out a little too quickly. “Let’s just... let’s just finish this.”
James didn’t respond immediately, but Will could feel the Alpha’s gaze on him. He could feel the weight of it, like James was trying to read him, trying to see through the facade Will had so carefully constructed.
Will couldn’t take it. He couldn’t bear the thought of James knowing something wasn’t right or of him finding out what. Not like this. Not now, when everything was so fragile.
So, Will did what he always did. He buried it. He focused on the task at hand, on the video. He smiled, nodded, and pretended everything was fine.
But deep down, he knew. He was pregnant. And the father was James.
And for now, that secret would stay locked inside of him, hidden beneath layers of silence.
The session continued, the tension between them thick, but unspoken. It came in waves really, they could melt into what they were for a time, then something would remind Will of everything that had happened and he’d become hyper aware of the nausea and the alpha sat next to him.
“He never cleans his teeth.” Will joked, trying to distract from how the bites he was taking were now tiny.
“Yes I do,” James retorted quickly, “You saw me do it this morning.”
“Now that just sounds like I was round yours last night and we woke up together.”
It earned a laugh from James, a hand touching Will’s arm. But all that achieved was his stomach to turn again. He spat the food out claiming it was bad bin material, taking more sips from his water.
He had to hold it together.
Will had made sure to avoid any eye contact after they’d finished recording. He couldn’t face the man who’d inadvertently changed the course of his life, not when he wasn’t even sure what he was supposed to feel - he didn’t feel anything other than dread at the moment. There had been too many emotions, too many things unsaid, and Will had clung to the hope that time would make it all make sense - he knew deep down that wasn’t likely. But he couldn’t avoid the truth any longer. He was carrying James's child.
And he couldn’t run. He couldn’t even hide it, as soon as the crew were busy on the equipment he slipped away to throw up all the shite they’d been eating - he’d been stupid to think any of it would stay down. He felt his face heat up unbearably even as the sickness faded. He washed his face, letting the tap run on his wrists to try to cool off. To try to be unperceivable.
But James had been outside the door waiting for him. And for a moment that made Will relax. Only for a moment though.
The decision to confront him wasn’t one he’d even considered for long. He couldn’t hide it. Not from James. Couldn’t pretend that everything would be okay. So, when they were finally alone in the office he knew he had to take the shot.
Because it was better to lose a friend now by his own hand, than later by accident. He’d been abandoned before; this was his doing now and he’d be in charge of his own pain.
“Will,” James’s voice was soft, cautious, as if he had been expecting this moment but wasn’t ready for it. “Is it your heat again? I know we’ve never really-"
“James, I need to talk to you,” Will interrupted, his voice steady, though it was the hardest thing he’d ever said. He pushed past the doorframe, not waiting for an invitation. The space between them felt too far, too empty, and yet too crowded at the same time. “Please.”
In his mind he let a daydream take root, in the milliseconds between his words. It was a nice dream: one where they were together and this was wanted, one where he’d be excited to tell James and be scooped up by the Alpha and they’d go home.
But that was just a dream.
The air was thick with tension as Will stood in the middle of the office. He didn’t know where to start, how to make sense of everything. All the words he had prepared in his head vanished, leaving only the cold truth between them.
“Will?” James took a step closer, his eyes scanning his face. “What’s going on? You’re… different. Terrified. What happened?”