by N. J. Lysk
Thomas’s eyes flickered down to their hands. “I’m what?”
Uri’s heart was beating hard enough he thought the word wouldn’t come. “Mine.”
Thomas’s eyes widened, body jerking in shock. Uri let go of his hand, scrambling to sit up, wincing as he sat on the wet spot but pulling away so he wasn’t restricting Thomas’s movements at all. “Sorry, I didn’t—”
“Hey.” Thomas snatched his hand out of the air, clutching hard enough Uri stilled. Thomas didn’t let go, didn’t look away at all as he put his other hand flat on the bed and pushed himself upright with apparently little effort, muscles rippling distractingly all over his arm and chest. And yet, his words made Uri forget all about his skin. “I want to be yours.”
“I—” He looked down, the only way he could retreat when his hand in Thomas’s felt trapped. He knew if he tried to pull away, the other would have let go, but... It wasn’t just his hand Thomas had in his hold. He gave himself a moment. “I don’t expect... I mean—”
“Uri,” Thomas gently cut in. “What do you want?”
The question felt like a blow to the solar plexus. He inhaled sharply. Thomas brought their hands down on the bed between them, the few centimetres between their knees Uri had left when he’d pulled away. Then he loosened his hold, resting his hand on top of Uri’s, nothing more. He stayed still, watching them.
Waiting, Uri understood in a flash. Unmoving and waiting.
Another declaration from a man who’d already opened his heart as unafraid as a child even though he was very far from naïve. No, Thomas knew he was vulnerable. He’d been hurt and he’d got back on his feet and confronted those who’d hurt him. He was still willing to risk it, even with odds as poor as they had.
It wasn’t the chance of Uri meeting an omega he was compatible with, it was the inevitability of it that got to you. That’s how Jean Claude had explained it when he’d broken up with Uri.
He’d tried to explain it wouldn’t matter, that the way his body reacted wouldn’t change the way he’d act. But doubt was much more powerful than love, apparently. It was true, as far as Uri knew, but what if...
Thomas’s grip tightened. “Is it really such a hard question?”
“What?”
“What do you want?” Thomas repeated.
“No,” Uri admitted. “But—”
“Just tell me,” Thomas insisted, gulping. “I just want to know.”
“You,” he almost snapped, because it was like wishing on a star, a pretty fantasy without much basis on reality, and being asked to voice it felt like a trick, as if the moment he said it the universe would snatch it away. “I want... I want to bite you and when it fades, I want to bite you again,” he blurted out, and it was like he couldn’t stop. “I— I think I want you to bite me too,” he admitted, shivering a little. He couldn’t meet Thomas’s eyes either. “But—”
Thomas’s free hand pressed against his lips so suddenly, Uri would have fallen backwards if the other man hadn’t tugged on the hand he was still holding to counteract the force.
Thomas pulled his hand away from his mouth, looking startled. “Sorry, just... You are sure?”
Uri stared at him, uncomprehending. He was. He would have signed on it, only... “You think I might meet an omega.”
“No,” Thomas answered simply. “I know you will.”
“What?” Uri tensed up, but Thomas’s grip promised to be hard to pull away from, and he was too confused to know what he wanted to do in any case. He stayed.
Thomas shrugged, his messy hair tumbling into his eyes. His fingers twitched against Uri’s, obviously eager to pull it back. He didn’t. “You will meet compatible omegas, more than once. But you don’t want to... you don’t want that kind of relationship.” He stopped for a beat, tracing Uri’s knuckles slowly enough to tickle. Uri didn’t move. “And... If you ever do, it’s fine. You can change your mind. Anyone can, but are you sure now?” he insisted.
“Yes,” Uri told him. The truth was often complex and multifaceted, except when it was this easy. He was sure now, he couldn’t even imagine ever being anything else. But his rational brain wouldn’t allow him to stop there. “But—”
Thomas shook his head and shushed him. “That’s all I need.”
“You deserve better than that,” Uri almost growled, tensing up and almost pulling away. He wanted to cover himself, to cover Thomas. Maybe Thomas’s parents had told him only omegas and alphas could find true love, discern between a strong bond and one that would last forever, but Uri certainly wasn’t going to contribute to that fucked up fantasy of theirs...
“I don’t want better than you,” Thomas said placidly, his grip loosening again, thumb lazily sweeping over the back of Uri’s hand.
Uri sighed. “You’re crazy.”
Thomas’s smile expanded into a grin. “Crazy for you,” he finished with delight.
Uri snorted. “Just crazy,” he insisted, but he was already leaning closer, and Thomas met him halfway, his lips soft and puffy. Only when Thomas sighed into Uri’s mouth, he felt like he could relax again. It was all it took: the sound of Thomas’s happy sigh and his body knew it was safe, home, loved.
Thomas tried to follow when he pulled back a few centimetres but acquiesced when Uri put his palm against his chest. Thomas’s heart was beating a little fast, but it was nothing to Uri’s racing one. “I love you,” he said simply, absolutely true. He couldn’t meet Thomas’s eyes, it would have been too much.
Except he didn’t need to because Thomas dragged him into his arms, not too careful with his strength this time as he squeezed Uri against his chest. He didn’t speak, which was odd in itself and even more so at a moment like this. Uri curled up closer, laid down with him when Thomas pulled him down. It was only when they were horizontal again, warm and close enough to share air, that he noticed how ragged Thomas’s breathing was.
His grip had slackened too, enough that Uri could pull back to look him in the face. “Thomas...” His cheeks were wet. “What’s wrong?”
Thomas shook his head, shooting him a look Uri could have sworn was full of... indignation? “Wrong? Nothing’s wrong! You just— I mean, I’m human, okay? No one...”
“Oh,” Uri said quietly. It was so easy to forget how young Thomas was. “You mean you’ve never...”
“Dated?” Thomas’s expression was tense. “No, not really. Nothing like this... Are you smiling?”
Uri gulped, then shrugged. “I like it, what do you want me to do about it?”
Thomas unexpectedly laughed. “Nothing. Don’t do a single thing, you’re bloody perfect,” he mumbled against Uri’s cheek and then they were kissing again, and Uri was too distracted to figure out when the kisses had become intersected with declarations of love. “Your eyes,” Thomas sighed, kissing his eyelids. “You look at me like...” The rest was lost as he got distracted sucking on Uri’s ear.
He thought he caught something about a statue, but Thomas’s mouth wet against his collarbone was too intense for words to be processed.
He closed his eyes and let himself be loved. It was that easy.
HE ROLLED OVER AND put his hand on Thomas’s bare hip. His lover jumped a little, maybe surprised, maybe a little pained because he was covered in bite marks. Uri’s eyes travelled down his side, mouth watering a little, but he swallowed it down and asked, “You want to try the original pletzaleh?”
“What?” Thomas blinked his beautiful green eyes at him, hair all over the place and lips red and kissable—maybe he couldn’t descend into subspace, but he was dazed enough to make something in Uri’s chest swell with pride. “You mean... like, meet your mums?” Thomas seemed wary for some reason. "You know you don't have to, right? Just because—"
Uri leaned in and kissed the words off his mouth, pulling on his hips to turn him further towards him. Neither of them were hard, which was fine, they had plenty of time to go again later, but he wanted to sort this out now. And he wanted to be close, in all the ways he
could. "Are you afraid of my mums?" he asked once he could make himself give up on licking his lover’s teeth.
"What?” Thomas repeated, sounding almost disorientated. “No way, your mums sound amazing. I'm kinda unsure about David," he conceded, tilting his head to the side and exposing the big bite mark Uriel had left when Thomas had sucked him so expertly as to make him bend in half—it was at a weird angle and anyone would be able to tell... It felt like he couldn’t look away, or breathe. It wasn’t— "Kinda intense..." Thomas said slowly, and his tone drew Uri’s attention. “Isn’t he?”
Uriel laughed, aware that he was being obvious and not caring one bit. He’d told Thomas, hadn’t he? What secrets did he have left? "You can say that again."
“Should I get it tattooed permanently?” Thomas suggested, eyes sagging a little and hand rubbing Uri’s hipbone in small, hypnotic circles.
“What?”
Thomas was smirking. “Your teeth,” he clarified, slowly enough Uri could see his tongue peek out. “On my neck?”
For a moment, Uri’s brain seemed to grind to a halt. Then he clenched his eyes shut and shook his head. “No,” he told him. “I’d rather get the chance to mark you up again.”
Thomas’s shivered at the offer, throat bobbing. “... Good plan,” he declared after a beat, or three.
Uri didn’t try very hard not to smirk. “Maybe you can just meet my mums, David’s always busy, so...”
“Wait, is he more of a workaholic than you?”
Uri laughed and put an elbow under his body to be able to look at him properly. Thomas had no idea. “I’m passionate about my job. My brother... Well, the word obsession comes to mind.”
“And your mums... They really don’t care?” Thomas was looking down at his hand on Uri’s side, still moving but no longer so smoothly. It took Uri a moment to figure out he was not talking about their addictive personalities.
“That I’m an alpha and you’re a beta?” he checked. “No way, they don’t think biology is destiny.”
Thomas glanced up, forcing his pillow to stay folded with a little too much force, and frowned. “Wh— Is that a quote?”
“Yeah, Simone de Beauvoir,” he explained. He still had to go back and read her in the original French now that he could, but the truth of it almost didn’t need language. Nobody was born an alpha or an omega, or a woman or a man, not even a beta. Those were names given to them either when they were babies or later on, always judging the bodies and determining them to be the reflection of the souls and preferences.
Like souls were that wimple. Like bodies were that simple.
He turned to Thomas. “She was an omega and she was in love with an alpha, but she refused to bond. Of course, he was a bit of a dick to her, but even so, she refused to let the body she’d been born with decide her life.”
“That’s.... that’s beautiful,” Thomas decided. He was still not looking at Uri, but his hand had relaxed and he seemed distracted by pleasanter thoughts. “I should tell Colleen about her.”
“She kinda saved my life,” Uri said almost at the same time, and then he couldn’t ask about Thomas’s sister.
Thomas was staring at him. “What do you mean?”
He swallowed and squeezed Thomas’s hand before rolling away to reach for the glass of water on the bedside table. He leaned back against the headboard, grimacing at the stale taste. But he was thirsty enough to drink anyway, and it helped some to have a little space. “I didn’t want to be an alpha.” He offered Thomas the water but didn’t watch him swallow, just looked ahead at the cream wall, not letting his eyes wander upwards towards the painting Jean Claude had sent for his graduation or towards the man now sitting next to him. “I never... I thought I’d always be a beta, just be me, I guess?” He licked his lips, exhaled.
It was nothing new, he’d explained this to Thomas when he’d found out about his orientation. Thomas didn’t speak and after a moment, Uri couldn’t resist looking at him. The beta was watching him, upper body tilted his way but not bridging the distance Uri had created between them. He nodded, encouraging, still not speaking.
Uri had to look away again. “My mums... They always taught me it’s what you do that matters, but...” It felt stupid, but it was what he’d believed as a teen. “I thought that meant I wouldn’t present because I didn’t act like an alpha... I mean, it’s stupid. I know that now.”
“Well, then we’re all stupid, aren’t we?” Thomas offered. “We keep making assumptions about who will present what based on behaviour, even though we know behaviour is a choice and presenting isn’t.”
Uri nodded. “It’s just the way we’re taught to think. And I have been trying not to judge people all my life, but... but in the end, I believed all that bullshit and when I presented I couldn’t cope.”
“How old were you?”
“Seventeen.”
Thomas nodded. “Pretty young.”
“Legal,” Uri replied. It’d been what the doctor had told him and his mothers. If the guy had noticed how freaked Uri was, he’d ignored it.
“Legal? What’s—?" Thomas stopped cold. “Uri, did somebody...?”
It was Thomas’s expression, pinched and worried, that gave away his meaning. “No! It was— Not like omegas throw themselves at alphas; that was fine.”
“Did you... did you want to?”
Uri laughed, shuddering a little at the memory. He’d wondered if addicts felt this way when they tried to stop using. He’d imagined it’d be worse; to know what you desired and deny yourself.
At least he didn’t know what it felt to touch a compatible omega.
“I wanted to. I want to,” he added. If Thomas wanted to make this choice, it’d be with full awareness of what it entailed, of how fucked up Uriel really was.
“That’s rough, man,” Thomas said, and Uri felt his big hand close loosely around his wrist.
Uri’s eyes got stuck on Thomas’s arm, hair so light it was only visible in contrast with his tanned skin—to call the little colour he’d picked up something. “I don’t... I don’t get it.”
“Get what?”
“You said you wanted to be mine, and now you... I tell you I want other people and you sit there and pet me!” He clamped his mouth shut, aware that he’d raised his voice. It was taking all his concentration not to pull away from Thomas’s light touch.
“We definitely have to go see your mums.” Thomas sounded thoughtful, like he was making plans for a boat ride or a visit to the fair. His thumb was still tracing the bones of Uri’s wrist.
“What?” Uri didn’t pull back, he didn’t understand what Thomas was saying but touch couldn’t mean anything bad, could it?
“To talk about this Simone lady a lot more, make sure you remember what you want doesn’t mean shit if you don’t do anything about it.” His voice grew sharper now, not angry but definitely not happy. “Anyway, you think I don’t want other people?”
Uri inhaled sharply, tensing despite himself. Thomas’s grip tightened enough to ache a little. “Look at me,” he demanded.
Uri did, heart in his throat, face hot with embarrassment or anger or... “What?”
“Do you trust me?” Thomas’s eyes were a challenge if he’d ever seen one. Part of him wanted to respond, but the question was at its most fundamental level the opposite of a show of strength.
Thomas wanted to know if Uri believed in his strength.
“Yes,” he said. It was true, it was the only answer possible.
He felt Thomas’s hold on him soften, but he didn’t look away.
“I trust you,” Thomas told him in response. “And that means that I trust you to be honest with me. If we’re exclusive—”
“If?” Uri almost spat.
But Thomas smiled. “Since we’re exclusive, I trust that whatever you want, you won’t give in.” He waited for a moment, perhaps for an objection. “And trust me, I can keep you pretty busy anyway, old man.”
Uri watched him, his impossibly pretty
eyes, the reddened lips, the arms that could hold Uri still with little effort. Even more impossibly, the soft smile on his lips, the brightness of his eyes as he watched Uri in turn. “Come here?” he asked.
Thomas tackled him onto the bed with enough enthusiasm they almost rolled off it.
“Gonna keep me busy, huh?” he asked when he managed to stop laughing, giddy with the weight of Thomas in his arms—they’d wrestled a little, but in the end, Uri had surrendered to the inevitable.
When the inevitable was this, surrender wasn’t a hardship at all.
Thomas met his eyes from where he was resting his chin on his crossed hands on Uri’s chest.
“We have a game in Hungary,” he said, too casually.
Uri looked away, aware his heart was going a little fast. He tugged Thomas close enough to kiss, and his boyfriend got the picture, planting his hands on his upper arms and deepening the kiss into a slow, possessive dance.
He appreciated the offer—and he couldn’t deny he’d wondered about the place his mother and grandmother had come from for years—but it was something to think about on his own.
He didn’t know much about his past, and a part of him had always wondered, but he had his mothers and David, and now he had this: a future he could plan for.
Maybe one day he’d go back to Hungary, rely on sign language to find out more about the people who’d given him the gift of life, who’d loved him enough to take him somewhere safer even if it meant abandoning the only home they’d ever known. But today, he was home and he was safe and everyone he could thank and love was here with him.
Chapter Twenty-Three: Thomas
He’d looked up Simone de Beauvoir after Uri and he had been finally forced to separate. Well, after he’d been late to practice, got shouted at by Carry for said infraction while Coach Hernandez looked on with amusement, and finally was allowed to shower and go home.
Turned out she was definitely the kind of person Colleen would have liked to know about. It was not that surprising, he’d thought before that Colleen and Uriel would agree about a lot of what was wrong with the world, but this made him want to talk about it, not just listen.
