Chapter Text
Omegas and alphas were meant for each other. Every omega should have an alpha to dote on them and every alpha needed an omega to mellow them out. Everyone knew that. And as a freshly baked secondary student, Joseph knew all about it. His parents were doing it right. They'd mated early in their lives and were very happy. But it wasn't like this for his uncle Simon. His poor uncle Simon still hadn't found a mate, even though he was even older than Joseph's dad. Which meant that something had to happen.
"Did you hear what Mrs Curry said about how unmated Omegas won't ever have kids if they're older than thirty five and then they'll be sad?" Joseph voiced his thoughts. He was currently kicking a football back and forth with his new best friend, Daniel MacTavish.
“I heard unmated Alphas start biting random people at age forty and need to be tranq-ed,” Daniel snickered. He stopped when he noticed Joseph’s expression. “Why do you ask?”
“I want a baby cousin,” Joseph declared, kicking the ball a little weaker than usual. “I don’t want uncle Simon to be sad without a baby.”
“Does your uncle Simon even like alphas? My uncle John says there’s no omega he’d ever mate. He’ll dodge all the tranq darts, too!”
Joseph frowned at his friend’s brag. He wasn’t too sure he’d be proud of his own uncle if he’d be that willing to risk the safety of others. But the idea of a grown-up Daniel running away from people with tranq rifles was funny.
“We could invite our uncles to our next footie game,” Daniel suggested, shrugging as if that idea didn’t excite him. “Maybe they can still be friends.”
Joseph smiled. “Simon already promised me to come when he’s home next time!”
Daniel whooped. “Alright! Then I’ll only have to get John to come, too! We’ll get them special seats and everything.”
“And then, maybe, Simon can have pups before he gets sad!”
“Or run away together with John. If he’s cool enough.”
“Of course he is!” Joseph puffed up, ready to defend his uncle’s honor. “He’s the coolest!”
“Nuh-uh. Can’t. Because that’s already John! He knows all the best football tricks.”
Joseph couldn’t argue with Daniel on that. Simon was pretty shite at football. But he had other qualities. “Simon makes the best biscuits of all time! And cakes!”
“John has cool scars!”
“So does Simon!”
“John beats up baddies for a living! He’s a hero!”
“So does Simon! He’s a lieu-ten-nant!”
“John is a sergeant. That must be better!”
“Nuh-uh. A lieutenant is more important than a sergeant!” Joseph was pretty sure about that. When Simon spoke of his sergeant Soap, it always sounded like Soap was his underling, not his boss. “I think a captain trumps them both…” Joseph mused.
Daniel nodded vigorously. “A captain trumps everyone. Like in football!” With that, he kicked the ball so hard it sailed right past Joseph and into the bushes. They looked at each other, laughing as they bickered over who had to go fetch it.
“Ghostie, we’ve got mail!”
Ghost looked up from his book to glower at his sergeant. Soap didn’t have to announce the news to the entire, albeit mostly empty, rec room. And yet, here they were. With a sigh, he closed his book. “What do you mean, we?” he asked. “Told your maw to send me more cookies, did you?”
“You wish,” Soap laughed, his eyes not quite agreeing with his mouth. They’d been doing this dance for a while now: either of them would push just for the other to pull away. An alpha and an omega getting along as well as they did was usually a done deal. Only they were anything but usual. Ghost was large, strong, all sharp edges. An enticing challenge for most alphas, but not mating material. He’d realized that pretty early on. The scars he’d collected since only cemented the picture alphas had of him. Soap, meanwhile, kept everyone but Ghost at arm’s length, hiding the fact behind charisma and easy charm. For a while, Ghost had entertained the idea that there might be something between them. Until he’d overheard a plastered Soap tell Gaz that he’d never ever want to settle down with any omega, at all. And so, they’d arrived at their current stalemate: Ghost would push just far enough for Soap to pull back; Soap would flirt and do superficial first courting steps, but Ghost would pretend he didn’t know the proper responses.
An envelope was waved in front of Ghost’s face. “Quit sulking,” Soap admonished. “Handwriting looks like it’s JR. That’s gotta cheer you right up.”
Ghost snatched the letter from Soap’s hand. A letter from Joseph! He got those regularly, but they were always his favorite. A rare smile threatened to crinkle the corners of his eyes. Quickly, he covered his masked nose with his free hand, muttering: “Stop waving that alpha stink around me.” Not that he disliked Soap’s scent. If he could, he’d smell of it all day, every day. But as things stood, the only person allowed to scent either of them was Price as their pack alpha. Made the old man happy, too, so Ghost had given up on his complaints.
“You’d rather I rub some on your cheeks, Ghostie?” Soap smirked, as if reading Ghost’s thoughts.
“Fuck off,” Ghost grumbled. He ostensibly turned his attention to the letter.
“Noooooo,” Soap whined. “I haven’t even shown you yet what I got! Look!” He flapped a photo between Joseph’s letter and Ghost’s face. “Doesn’t Daniel look fine in his new jersey? He’s gonna be the best striker his club’s ever seen. After me, of course.”
“Of course,” Ghost echoed drily. But he still dutifully examined the photograph. It showed a young boy, about Joseph’s age, with a striking resemblance to Soap. He was holding a football and wearing a full kit, grinning brightly at the camera. “If I didn’t know about your sister, I’d think you’d be hiding an omega and kids from me, Johnny.”
“Och, piss off.” Soap shoved Ghost’s shoulder goodnaturedly. “As if there’s any omega out there who could tie me down.”
“Right. Forgot you were scared of commitment, sergeant.” Ghost huffed out a laugh.
“Tosser.”
“Cunt. Now let me read my letter in peace.”
Joseph’s letter was the usual ramblings of a barely-teenage boy. It started off with a description of his new room and the house they’d moved to after Tommy had switched to a better paid job near Glasgow. From there, it meandered to Joseph’s new school, all descriptions just vague enough not to be too telling but conveying the boy’s likes and dislikes all the same. He’d picked up playing football after a classmate—now Joseph’s new best friend—had taken him along to the training for two weeks straight. Apparently, Joseph was a decent keeper. The rest of the letter was all about football, their training routines, the sore muscles Joseph suffered, cool saves he’d done, and his mates. Finally, it concluded with an invitation to a game during Ghost’s next leave.
“Huh,” Ghost muttered to himself.
“Huh what, L.T.? JR asking for dating advice already?”
Ghost scowled at Soap. He did not want to imagine his baby nephew dating. Thirteen and a bit was ten years too early for that in his book. Besides, Joseph would always be his baby. “Shove it,” he growled, which only made Soap scoot closer on the couch, trying to steal a glance at the letter. “Baby J wants me to go to a footie match.”
“Ooooh. Fun times!” Soap beamed. “Daniel always begs me to come see him play, too. It’s pure mint, believe me.”
“Wouldn’t know,” Ghost admitted, feeling a little silly. “Haven’t been to one.”
“Not ever?” Soap’s eyes were wide with shock. A little too wide. Ghost wanted to punch him. “Well. No time like the present, then. Go see him play before they’ll make you pay admission.”
Ghost considered it for a moment. He’d go. There was no way he’d not participate in something Joseph was passionate about. Not for anything in the world, not even if it’d physically hurt Ghost. But Soap didn’t need to hear that out loud. So he just said: “We’ll see.”
Leave came soon. As usual, Ghost would be on leave at the same time as Soap. It just made sense, Price claimed with a smile that implied more than Ghost was comfortable with. But it meant he could stick to his usual routine for leaves: remind Soap to pack; pack for himself; remind Soap to pack again; go to sleep; wake Soap an hour before they had to go because Soap still hadn’t packed; take a car and then a number of trains up to Scotland with Soap in tow. He wouldn’t give Soap Tommy’s address, but it did them both some good to know the other was nearby in case of emergency. The whole trip also meant that Ghost spent several cramped hours near Soap. They even tended to take shifts for naps, usually waking up leaned against the other. So, when Ghost finally got into Tommy’s car as he was picked up, he had no idea why his brother was sniffing him.
“What?” he asked.
“You gonna introduce us?” Tommy asked.
“Who?”
Tommy rolled his eyes. “Your alpha.”
“Oh, fuck all the way off.” Simon shoved his brother. Always the same crap. Tommy was almost as bad as their mom. “I don’t have an alpha.”
“Yeah. Right. I must be mistaken then. My bad. You don’t not smell of an alpha all over,” Tommy snorted.
“Price scented me before leave,” Simon rumbled. He knew he wasn’t smelling much of Price. The captain always kept it subtle, just enough to satisfy everyone’s instincts.
Tommy rolled his eyes. “I know what your Price smells like. You always smell like him when you come back, like cologne. But you reek of another alpha. So, who is he?”
“Who says it’s a he?”
“I do. Because I know you, dear brother.” Tommy smirked, eyes fixed on the road. “You never looked at a girl twice.”
Simon put his cheek in his hand, arm propped up on the window ledge. It meant his next words came out mumbled: “He’s just my sergeant. There’s nothing there.”
“Oh? Don’t tell me your sergeant lives around here? Or did he go out of his way to take you home?”
Inside, Simon prayed for a tree suddenly sprouting in the middle of the road. A swift end to this torture. “He lives here. I think.”
“You think?” Tommy chuckled. Sadly, no tree appeared to save Simon. “How about you invite him over for dinner?”
“Not gonna happen,” Simon growled. “Too dangerous.”
“But you trust this Soap guy, right? Joseph always says he is all you write about.”
“He’s not all. He’s just the biggest pain in my arse.”
“Bet he is,” Tommy snickered.
“Urgh. Gross. No. How can I not write to Joseph about a guy who blows up outhouses when he’s really pissed?”
“Oof. Alright, yeah, he’d love that.” Tommy slowed down the car as he turned into the lane their house was on. “Loved the tale of the late night baking, too.”
“See?” Simon wished he could feel smug at the change of topic, but it only made him miss Soap. “He’s just a friend.”
“Just a friend who rubbed his strong alpha scent all over you.” Tommy had to have the last word as he parked the car in front of the garage. He got out before Simon could fire back a response.
His arrival at the house caused the usual ruckus. Both Beth and his mother pulled him into tight hugs. Joseph jumped into his arms and then refused to let go, clinging to him like a koala all evening. Between catching up and dinner, it was Joseph’s bedtime before they knew it. And when asked, Simon couldn’t refuse tucking his nephew in.
“I’m so happy you’re back,” Joseph murmured, already half asleep. He was holding onto the sleeve of Simon’s hoodie. “Will you really come to my footie match on saturday?”
“Wouldn’t miss it for anything in the world, Jo.”
“Good. You gotta meet Daniel-” Joseph yawned. When Simon bent down to kiss his forehead, he’d already fallen asleep.
It was still another couple of hours before the adults turned in for bed as well. Simon hugged his mother one last time, before he closed the door to his room. He’d have loved nothing more than to fall into his bed, freshly aired and made with the same detergent and softener his mother had been using for years. The comfort of the familiarity of it was usually enough. But that night, he couldn’t bring himself to take off his hoodie. He’d subtly sniffed his left shoulder when he had a second to himself. It still smelled like Soap. If he rubbed his cheek on it, he could briefly pretend he’d been scented by him on purpose, that Soap’d rubbed his wrist gland on his cheek, or against the gland on his neck as a reminder they belonged together. Simon wished he’d done the same to Soap. He took off the hoodie, inhaling their mixed scents deeply. When he was done building his makeshift nest on the bed, he added the hoodie on top. He curled up for sleep, Soap’s sweet scent still tickling his nose.
Between odd jobs for his mother and Joseph demanding his presence whenever possible, the week until Saturday passed in a flash for Simon. It was easy to see how excited Joseph was about the match. He could barely sit still long enough for breakfast, always of half a mind to dash off to check his kit or to show Simon his cleats or gloves. He especially loved his horrible neon yellow jersey and matching shorts, taking great care to not spill anything on them.
Once they were done, Joseph dragged Simon outside with him. It wasn’t too far to the football pitch, barely further than Joseph’s school. Simon had Joseph’s kit bag over one shoulder and Joseph’s hand in the other. The entire time, Joseph kept talking: about his mates, about training, about pros he liked. It reminded Simon of Soap while he listened just as intently as he’d listen to his sergeant. Maybe even more so.
The first signs of catastrophe were the blue jerseys Simon noticed on other kids going in the same direction. Familiar blue jerseys. He took until they’d reached the edge of the pitch until he remembered where he’d seen them before. And why the name Daniel had seemed so familiar. But by then, it was already too late to bolt.
“Dan!” Joseph called out to a brown haired boy in a blue kit. The boy turned around immediately, a far too familiar bright smile directed at Joseph who went running to greet him properly. Simon, meanwhile, was frozen in the spot, staring at the man next to Daniel. Next to Daniel MacTavish. Soap’s nephew.
At least Soap looked equally surprised as Simon himself felt. So this wasn’t a setup. Or maybe just not one by Soap himself. As for their nephews… Simon couldn’t bring himself to glare at Joseph. They couldn’t have known.
“John, that’s Joseph. I told you about him! He’s pure braw in the box. And he’s brought his uncle, too. You don’t have to spend the match by yourself today!” Daniel really was his uncle’s nephew. He spoke just as fast and without breaks for breath as the man himself. Above their nephews’ heads, Simon rolled his eyes. Soap had the decency to look uncomfortable for a second.
“Hello,” he said, holding out his hand to Joseph. “I’m John, Daniel’s uncle. Nice to meet you.” They shook hands with the great gravity only young teens could muster and appreciate. “And what’s your uncle’s name?”
“That’s Simon!” Joseph introduced him eagerly, pushing Simon towards Soap. “He’s quiet but really nice. You could tell him about football during the game! I don’t think he gets it from what I tell him.”
“Hey!”
All eyes turned to Simon after his uncharacteristic outburst. Oh how he wished to be wearing his mask. He could feel his ears and cheeks heat with embarrassment. “I do get some of it,” he said, aiming for nonchalant and landing firmly on barely distinguishable. He didn’t dare look at Soap. The sergeant had to be having a field day with this.
“That’s fine,” Soap said, jovial as ever. “Makes it easier, even. That way I won’t have to start from scratch. Daniel, where did you want us to stand?”
“You can sit,” Daniel pronounced as if it was a great honor. “Look! I put out a mat over there, with a snack bag.”
Soap let out an impressed whistle. “So that’s what you were doing. Thank you.”
Before Simon could ask any questions about the whole thing, the trainer was calling for the boys on the team. Shooting him an apologetic look, Soap made to take Simon by the elbow to lead him over to their seats. “If you touch me, sergeant, I’ll let you run laps until you puke up blood when we get back,” Simon growled. He could walk—or better yet, stomp—over to their spots just fine on his own.
“Don’t be like that,” Soap whined as he hurried after him. “They put so much effort into this.”
“And what’s this supposed to be?” Simon let himself fall onto the mat, near the edge of it, to leave as much space between himself and Soap as possible.
“Setting us up to meet.” Soap, wise to Simon as always, avoided his personal space. “Dan kept telling me I need friends when I’m here. So I think that’s what they want us to do. To become friends.”
Simon hummed, only half convinced.
“Listen, I know this is awkward. But… we could just play along for the day. And as soon as this leave’s over, I’ll forget it ever happened. Swear I won’t tell anyone about it. I know how much you hate for people to know anything about your family…” A hard look from Simon made him falter and then shut up.
He wasn’t exactly wrong. There was just one misconception. Johnny already knew more than anyone ever had since Simon had become Ghost. He knew Joseph’s name, for one, and had known his face from the photo Simon kept as a secret treasure. He knew who all his family were. And now he’d met Joseph face to face.
“If you do, you’re dead,” was what Simon settled on. “Can’t believe Joseph’s best mate is your nephew.”
“Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” Soap beamed. “Same excellent taste in friends as his uncle.”
Simon rolled his eyes. “Not sure I still want to be friends after this.”
“Och, don’t be like that.”
“The way you stank up my hoodie, Tommy now thinks you’re my boyfriend,” Simon grumbled. As if that was Soap’s fault. He’d taken just as much advantage of the prolonged proximity as Soap had.
Soap stared at him, mouth hanging open. He closed it, but his chin dropped again right away. The process repeated itself a couple of times. He looked like a gasping fish. Simon decided to make it worse: “As for Joseph, he wants a cousin. This is a set-up.”
Soap turned beet red.
“Beth told me he was in a mood for a week when they started sex ed in school. Took her about as long to get ‘im to talk about it. Thought he was uncomfortable. Turned out he was just worried about me and sad I’d hit menopause before I had kids.” Simon wasn’t too sure why he was saying all that. To Soap of all people. Besides, he was only thirty-four. He had at least one or two years left to find a mate if he indeed wanted kids. Or to just fuck Soap during his next heat. He was sure Soap wouldn’t say no to helping a friend out. And the aftermath was the problem of an even more future-Simon anyway.
“Oh,” was all Soap had to say to that before the teams came back onto the pitch. Dutifully they got back up and cheered with the other adults around them. When they sat back down again, Soap had a more coherent response ready: “We could just humor them for now. Leave’s three weeks, right? No harm no foul in hanging out a bit. If you’re not too tired of my yapping yet.”
“Getting close.” Simon rolled his eyes. He’d never get tired of it. “Thought I’d be getting a break for once.”
Soap nudged him. “Oh, c’mon. You’d miss me.”
“A little,” Simon admitted. “Only one who won’t leave me alone.”
“Know I’d grow on you.”
Simon couldn’t help a smirk. “Like a fungus.” It got the indignant spluttering he’d hoped for. “Are we… good? This doesn’t change anything, does it?”
“Doesn’t have to change anything if we don’t want it to.”
The game was awful. Not that the kids were playing badly. But sitting this close to Ghost, off duty and on leave, and having to pretend he wasn’t happy about it, was torture. In truth, John would have liked nothing more than to bury his nose in the crook of Ghost’s neck, breathe in his sweet scent. He’d immediately hidden the hoodie he’d worn for travel from his sister before he’d gotten into her car. The plastic bag had conserved most of the smell, a fact Soap was still making use of. And now the living, breathing source of that scent was sitting not even an arm’s length from him.
He started talking to Ghost about the game when he couldn’t take it anymore. Daniel kept looking at them and Ghost’s nephew Joseph barely took his eyes off them. So he should make an effort. He would disappoint himself if he didn’t at least try to live up to their expectations. Ghost mostly offered grunts and monosyllabic answers in return. Thankfully, the kids were so young the halves only lasted thirty-five minutes. When he explained that to Ghost, he got a hum back. It was starting to stress him out.
“You think Daniel packed any crisps?” First full sentence out of Ghost’s mouth since the match started and it was about food. John did his best not to pout. “Don’t give me that look. Jo made me leave before I was done with breakfast.”
“We could go get lunch after this,” John suggested. “Bet the boy’ll be hungry, too.”
Ghost had snatched the bag up and was rummaging through it. He held up a pack of salted crisps triumphantly. “Alright, Dan’s quickly becoming my favorite MacTavish.”
“I bring you snacks, too.” John tried not to whine. He was trying to be gentlemanly around Ghost, showing his intentions without being too pushy. Ghost kept pulling back when they went too far. So John had matched his pace as best as he could. In three to five years, by his estimate, he’d be at the point where he could ask Ghost out for real. Until then, he was only too happy to take any crumbs he could get. Like this day.
“You didn’t bring me any today, did you?”
“I didn’t even know you’d be here!”
“Your mistake. You should always be prepared.”
“Well, it’s not like you’re my omega. So I refuse to take responsibility.” As soon as the words had left his mouth, John realized what he’d said. It sounded like he had no interest in Ghost. Which was the exact opposite of what he wanted. He wanted to show he could take care of and protect his omega. And the only omega he wanted was sitting next to him munching crisps.
“Blaming you whether it’s your fault or not,” Ghost said. There were crumbs stuck to the corner of his mouth. John wanted to lick them off so badly. “Hey, that’s a foul, isn’t it?” Ghost was glaring at a kid who’d just stumbled over Joseph while attempting to score a goal. Despite that, Joseph was clinging to the ball, saving the team’s lead. The referee blew his whistle.
“Yeah, it was. But it’s fine. Look, Jo is already getting back up to do the free kick himself,” John commented on what was happening. He then went on to explain to Ghost what normal levels of contact were for their age group. It didn’t seem to change much about Ghost’s mood, but he was listening intently until the end of the first half.
John stretched, pleased to see Ghost check him out. So he stretched a bit further, making his shirt ride up just so.
They spent the second half very much focused on the match, neither of them daring to stray to other, more personal, topics. It allowed John to drift closer, though, millimeters at a time. He was so close to casually brushing his fingers against Ghosts…
Two sharp whistles signalled the end of the game.
John pulled his hand back, sitting up straighter. He felt caught. Which was silly. They were two grown adults who could hold hands in public if so inclined. And if Ghost weren’t, he’d have pulled his hand back. Wouldn’t he?
“What happens now?” Ghost asked. He was focused on Joseph amid the gaggle of boys.
“Brief team meeting. A bit of celebrating. Then, they can go to their parents. Or… well. Us. Shouldn’t be more than ten, fifteen minutes.” John shrugged. It had been a while since he’d last been a spectator, too.
In the end it was closer to twenty minutes. Considering Daniel was still the center of a conversation, John could tell exactly why. Joseph broke away from the group eventually, running up to his uncle with sparkling eyes.
“Did you see my save in the second half? The one when I jumped all the way up?”
Ghost’s expression became incredibly soft. “Of course I did. You were amazing.”
Joseph laughed as his uncle ruffled his hair. “Did you have fun with John?”
Ghost glanced over briefly. “Yeah. I did. He was really nice and helpful.”
“So… does that mean we can do stuff with Dan and John while you’re here?” Joseph’s puppy eyes were incredible. Big and brown and round and moist. Like a doe begging not to be shot. There was no way anyone could withstand them. Ghost sure couldn’t.
“John already promised to take us to lunch,” Ghost lied. “His treat.”
Joseph whooped. John stared at Ghost’s pleased smirk.
“We’re going to a chippy,” John declared. “Or do you rather want pizza? Indian? Kebab?”
“Chippy’s fine, Johnny,” Ghost said fondly.
Two sharp inhales had them look at their nephews.
“What?” Ghost asked. “Since when don’t you like fish’n’chips?”
“Youcan’tcallhimthat,” Daniel rushed out.
“What?” Ghost looked at John. “What did I call you?”
John’s mouth twitched. “You called me Johnny, Si.”
“Oh.” Ghost shrugged one shoulder. “Fits you better. Too many damn Johns around.”
John laughed, much to the confusion of their nephews. “Lunch?” he asked in an attempt to get them back on track.
John took them all to his and Daniel’s favorite chippy. Unlike Joseph and Ghost, they hadn’t walked to the football pitch and thus, John could drive them all. Coupled with paying for all the food, it settled some upset part of John. His inner alpha even preened when Ghost liked the food he’d provided.
“What makes you look so smug?” Ghost grumbled.
“I’m not smug. I’m just having fun,” John protested just as Joseph chided: “Be nice to John, uncle Simon.”
John’s smile only got smugger. He was well aware of that. Ghost was, too, judging by his raised eyebrow. He mouthed: “Laps. Til. You. Puke.”
“That how you repay me for treating you to food?” John whispered.
Ghost shrugged. “Got a reputation to uphold.”
“Uncle Simooooon,” Joseph whined. “Please! Dan’s my best friend!”
That softened Ghost’s stony demeanor. “Sorry, Jo, I’ll be nicer to Johnny. For you.”
“But not for me?”
Ghost flicked John’s forehead with a smirk. “Never, Johnny.”
For some reason, the tone sent a shiver down John’s back. He licked his lips. Damn, he wanted that man like he’d never wanted an omega before in his life. “Knew you liked me.” Just to get a rise out of Ghost, he blew him a kiss on top. Too much, judging by the looks on the boys’ faces. Joseph seemed struck, like his wildest dreams were coming true. Daniel looked flat out disgusted by the unabashed flirting.
Ghost rolled his eyes. He smacked John over the back of the head, just like he would on base. “I’d like you more if you’d behave.”
“That’s a lie,” John shot back. “You like the challenge.”
“Presumptous,” Ghost snorted. “You barely know me.” That one stung, even if it was a lie to sell their story. Damn. John had already almost forgotten about it. They weren’t best friends. They’d just met through their nephews. Worse, they’d been set up by the boys.
John sighed. “Fair. Fair. Speaking of that…” He turned to Joseph. “You lot just moved here, right? Has Daniel already shown you what to do for fun around here? Aside from football, of course.”
“You could take us places with your car!” Daniel demanded at the same time as Joseph said, much more timidly: “Dan said his grandparents have sheep.”
“Och aye,” John beamed at the shy boy. “My parents do. Wanna go meet them? Ma wants me home tomorrow anyway.”
Joseph glanced at his uncle who was looking decidedly conflicted. “Sheep, uncle Simon. Real sheep,” he whispered.
“Ma can show you how to spin wool, too,” John tried to sweeten the deal. He’d watched Ghost knit for evenings on end. Owned a pair of incredibly warm and perfect socks made by his lieutenant, too. “She’s teaching courses, you know?” That made Ghost at least quirk an eyebrow. “Got a bunch of lambs, too,” he pressed on. “I’m sure you’d be welcome to visit. Especially if I bring Daniel.”
Ghost sighed deeply. “I’m doing this for Jo. And the sheep. Don’t get any ideas, understood?”
John nodded, very pleased with himself. “I’m offering mostly for Joseph. And ma wanted to see me, anyway. I bet I’ll be fixing fences and roofs all day.”
“Oh. Well. I guess it’s fine if you’ll just be the driver, then.” Ghost settled back down. The underlying panic of his smell was gone, making John notice it in its absence. Had Ghost been stressed all day without him noticing? That thought made him stress which led to fidgeting which led to his leg bouncing which ended with Ghost putting a hand on his knee to give him a brief squeeze. When that didn’t calm John down enough, he started rubbing circles on the outside with his thumb.
Daniel and Joseph were staring at them. John wanted the earth to open up beneath him. There was no way Daniel wouldn’t tell his mother about the omega getting to touch John. On their presumably first meeting, too. His sister will never let him live it down. And then he can either lie or tell her the ugly and pathetic truth.
Before he could spiral further, a phone was put on the table in front of him with a clack. “Gimme your number so we can hash out the details,” Ghost huffed. “Wanted to take him into Edinburgh while I’m here, too. Might be able to make another day out of that, if you’d like.”
John stared at the phone. He knew the phone. It was a pretty basic, older model smart phone Ghost usually kept turned off in the safe in his room. He claimed nobody had the number. And now he wanted to have John’s? He wanted John to put the number in himself? Trying not to show how overwhelmed the trust shown in this small gesture he was, he picked the phone up and created a new contact. Just the name “Johnny” and his private phone number. It still felt like a giant leap.
“Ta,” Ghost said, pocketing his phone. He didn’t even call John to give him his number, the bastard. “Anyway, I still got questions about football. Shall we?”
While Ghost was asking question after question about the match and their routines and football in general, John slowly managed to get back to being his usual self. Although it sounded like a soft interrogation, knowing Ghost as well as he did, it was probably a ploy to distract their nephews from being, well, distracted. Ghost’s hand hadn’t left John’s knee the entire time. A fact John was acutely aware of. The touch was hot on his flesh, at least in his mind. As Ghost finally—sadly—lifted his hand to mime a play with both hands, he twisted his wrist just so, rubbing his scent gland against John’s jeans. John shuddered. Ghost had never scented him on purpose before. Sure, close quarters on missions, during travel and their general tendencies to seek each other out like magnets on base meant they usually smelt like each other anyway. But to refresh their mixed scent on leave… it was enough to send John’s head spinning.
“...Michael from maths said there’s a ghost bus tour in Edinburgh," Daniel told Ghost as John finally managed to get the white noise out of his ears. “He said it’s proper scary and everything! Uncle John said maybe when I asked him to go with me.”
“Did he? Going ghost hunting, huh?” Ghost smirked. “Sounds fun.”
Joseph looked sceptical, but Daniel kept talking it up, encouraging his friend to agree, too. With the three of them ganging up on him, John had to agree to take them on the next weekend, provided the boys’ parents agreed and there were tickets left.
They’d long since finished their food, but Daniel didn’t want to say goodbye to Joseph yet. So they left the chippy, walking aimlessly down the street for a while so the boys could talk some more. It wasn’t too bad. Like this, John could pretend this was a regular occurrence, just him, his omega and two kids on a walk. If it were real, he could take Ghost’s hand. Or better yet, turn his head and kiss him, on the cheek, on the lips, wherever he wanted. If only his fantasies were real.
Ghost bumped his shoulder into John’s. “Why so glum? This is nice.”
“Yeah, nice…” John agreed half-heartedly.
“But?” Ghost raised an eyebrow.
John crumbled. Just a little. But enough that Ghost had to notice. “It’s nothing. I’m being stupid.”
“Ah. At last you realize it.”
“Och, fuck off.”
“Naw. Still need you to drive us home. It’s a half hour walk back.”
“Lazy bastard.”
“What? You wouldn’t let a poor defenseless omega and a child fend for themselves, would you?”
John gasped at the audacity. “Defenseless? You could benchpress me.”
“Could, would and ask Gaz to film it for posterity,” Ghost grinned. His canine caught on the scar through his lip. It shouldn’t look endearing, but John couldn’t help staring. Ghost was ruining him for anybody else without even trying. “Feeling better, Johnny?”
“Yeah. A bit.” John hesitated. He hated how needy it made him, but he had to have verbal confirmation: “So, we’re still good?”
The boys had reached a small playground and were now racing each other to the top of the climbing structure in the center. Ghost motioned for John to sit on a bench with him. They were the only people around, thankfully. Just the idea of other people seeing—or worse, commenting on—them together made John’s stress level spike again.
“We’re good,” Ghost confirmed once they were both seated. His gaze was fixed on Joseph. “Was surprised to see you is all. Was annoyed with myself and a little bit with Jo and Dan. But… I think it’s fine. You knowing me on leave, I mean. It’s fine since it’s you. Anyone else…”
“Anyone else would have gotten your whole you think you can handle me, alpha? spiel.” John grinned despite himself. He’d watched that spiel plenty of times, mostly with overconfident visitors who heard Ghost was unmated and thought themselves the very best omega tamers. It was just as well that Ghost blew them off. Because John wasn’t sure he’d be as civil.
“Exactly. You already know me well enough.” Ghost shrugged. He bumped his shoulder into John’s again. “So stop fretting.”
John returned the gesture, feeling confident enough to stay where he was, just the tiniest fraction of his weight resting against Ghost. It settled something inside him when Ghost didn’t pull back. He was relaxed enough to say something colossally stupid: “I’m glad we’re friends, Si.”
“Yeah. Friends…” Ghost’s voice was soft, almost inaudible, but there was a wistful tone to his last word.
“Ma, ma, John made a friend today!” Daniel was already yelling before he was through the door, running to his mother. John, still reeling, followed at a much more sedate pace.
The rest of their afternoon had been fine. No more heavy feelings to be discussed vaguely, no more pretending. Just them, nephews and uncles, playing table tennis with a ball Dan had dug out of some bushes. It had been nice. Even Ghost had been laughing. John had gotten to drive Joseph and Ghost home, too, getting their address from the man himself. It had felt monumental, no matter how mundane it really was.
“I met Joseph’s uncle. We talked,” John corrected, unwilling to admit more than strictly necessary.
“Oh! That’s nice, I meant to call Beth to invite Joseph over, but if you got that handled, that’s good.” From the sounds of it, Fiona was in the kitchen, so John went to join her. Maybe she could do with some help. Even if not, it was nicer to talk like that. Daniel had claimed his seat at the counter, a glass of water in his hand he greedily downed.
“I was thinking about taking Daniel and Joseph to Ma’s tomorrow,” John said as he went to fetch himself something to drink as well.
Daniel made eye contact before pronouncing: “And Simon.”
John rolled his eyes. “Aye, and Simon.”
“Simon’s John’s new friend,” Daniel grinned. “Joseph’s uncle! He’s also a soldier, like John. And he got to call him Johnny!”
John nearly dropped his glass. It wasn’t untrue, quite the opposite. But Daniel didn’t have to advertise the fact like that to his sister.
“Oh?” With a wide grin, Fiona finally turned to face them. “So, tell me, John, just how hot is this Simon?”
John bit his lips so he wouldn’t say something not meant for Daniel’s ears. Like a string of colorful curses at his nosy sister. Instead, he could feel his cheeks heat up.
“Simon’s sooooo tall,” Daniel explained, oblivious to or uncaring of his uncle’s mortification. “And strong. He’s got muscles, like John, but more! I bet he could pick me up and throw me, like, five meters into the air!”
“An alpha, then?”
Daniel shook his head. “Nuh-uh. Jo said he’s an omega.”
“Don’t,” John told his sister. Her eyes were twinkling, promising trouble.
“Nono, I want to hear everything.”
“They watched the game and ate my snacks and then John took us to the chippy and paid for everything and then Simon put his hand on John’s leg and then we went to the playground and then played table tennis before John took us home. And John talked with Simon the entire time!”
John glared at the little tattle tale. It was easier than looking at Fiona’s gleeful smile. “We might become friends,” he said, lamely. “Maybe.”
“Uh-hu,” Fiona snorted. “Anyway, I’m so proud of you, baby brother. Really didn’t think you had it in you.”
“Och,” John groaned. “Don’t plan my wedding yet.”