Not Destiny

by N. J. Lysk

  And a lot of what he wanted to talk about had to do with her.

  "Can I... Can I tell him? About you?"

  Colleen looked up from her cappuccino and stared at him, face blank. Fuck, he thought, he had screwed up—

  "You're that serious?" she checked, smiling a little.

  "Yeah," he offered. He had to offer something when he was asking for so much.

  "Then go for it." She took a sip of her drink, but he couldn't look away from her. Was it really going to be that easy? Not even a little reluctance?

  It was Colleen, so he said so, "I don't— I'm not complaining, but I don't get it."

  Colleen was carefully studying her nails, filed to perfection. "Saves me telling him. Plus... he'll get it, won't he?"

  Thomas's heart sped up, mouth drying up. She was right, of course. Had he told her about Uri’s mothers? Or was she assuming he was less than traditional from the way he’d reacted to being called an alpha? Did she know about Uri?

  He met her eyes again, wet his mouth with his tea, feeling like an asshole. This was Colleen. It didn't matter how or what she knew, the moment she'd even suspected she was crossing a line, she'd apologized without even asking for an explanation.

  "He'll get it," he said, nodding.

  She shrugged, exposed skin ridiculously tanned from her last trip to Croatia with her friends. She always dressed like it was warmer than it was, like her skin still needed proof of its freedom. No, that wasn’t right. She wasn’t seeking to prove anything, she simply knew with a confidence well past her years, and she relished the truth coming through to the surface. "Sorted, then."

  URI HAD COOKED FOR him again, which was a benefit of dating Thomas had seriously underestimated.

  He’d demolished the entrée a little faster than his host so now he had his mouth free to speak.

  “There’s something I wanted... to share. But it’s not about me so...”

  “You asked for permission?” Uri popped another bruschetta into his mouth.

  Thomas decided it was an inane confirmation rather than real doubt. He nodded.

  Uri swallowed. “I saw the injections in your toilet,” he admitted. “Needed shaving cream,” he added, rubbing his chin.

  Thomas stared at him, then laughed. “She did say you’d get it.”

  Uri clearly didn’t get the joke, though. “Too much testosterone?" Thomas explained.

  His boyfriend seemed torn for a second before gracing him with a smile. “That’s rather clever, actually.”

  Thomas bowed his head. “I thank you, my lord.”

  Uri shot him a warning look. “We are eating.”

  “Are we?” Thomas asked, looking pointedly at his empty plate.

  “Good thing you’re rich, you eat like three people,” Uri complained, getting to his feet to get the first course.

  “To be fair,” Thomas commented just as Uri reached for a drink of wine, “I fuck like three people too.”

  Uri spit the wine back into the cup. “Careful there, sir,” he warned when he stopped coughing, “You’re very close to ending up with no dessert.”

  “YOU SHOULD ASK YOUR sisters to come to dinner at my mums’,” Uri said all of a sudden.

  They were in the back garden watching the first official match between the Growlers and the Milkshakes—T’Jean’s and Blendi’s teams. Thomas had offered to get them into a real youth league, but the caretakers had explained it was hard enough for them to be around regular kids in school.

  Fair enough, this was meant to be fun. And there was always next year, which was a great lesson to learn if you were going to play sports in general, and team sports in particular.

  “What?” Thomas asked. He was still thinking of how to convince Byall that the kids should experience the real world sometime. He got that it was the guy’s job to look after the kids, but there was such a thing as being overprotective. Except Thomas got the feeling Byall, who was probably only a couple years older than Thomas himself, knew very well what it was to be underprotected. He was also very aware that however hard he and his sisters had found their parents, he had no experience of anything that would have Child Services interfering.

  Also, Byall was pretty small and yet quite intimidating.

  Uri cleared his throat, and Thomas glanced his way. “Well, it sounds like you didn’t have the easiest of times... with your dads?”

  There was no reason to hesitate. The whole point of telling Uri about Colleen was so he’d know about his parents, but maybe it was hard to be harsh on parents when yours were as amazing as Uriel’s mothers sounded. “So?”

  “So maybe it could be nice for them to be around adults that are more accepting. And my mums will love them. Pretty sure they always regretted adopting two boys.” He frowned. “Is that...? Should I not say that?”

  “You might get the ‘gender is a construct’ speech,” Thomas warned him. “But she did want to transition, so...”

  He didn’t mention that it’d been Eira who’d come up with that counterargument—one had to have a little mystery in a relationship, and Thomas’s didn’t have any tragic omega revolutionaries to quote.

  Uri looked like he had a stomach ache just thinking about the conversation. “Don’t think I’m gonna be using that argument... And, anyway, that was physical, wasn’t it? So—”

  Thomas was laughing already, because if he wasn’t careful, Colleen would steal Uri from him, and then they both turned back towards the game where the pitch of the shouting had gone from excited to violent in mere seconds.

  “Fuck,” he said with feeling, shooting to his feet and starting to run.

  At least the sticks were on the ground, he thought as he quickly assessed the situation. It was T’Jean and Blendi, of fucking course, but for once, Jamil and Tim were keeping their distance instead of holding them back.

  “What in Hades is going on here?!” he demanded, even as Blendi growled and rolled on top of her opponent, who had a good enough hold on her hair to make her scream in pain as a result.

  Thomas didn’t have the patience for this, he stepped forward and took hold of her by the underarms. “Let go!”

  T’Jean did, and Blendi almost came flying backwards against him. He quickly took a step back and turned, letting her stumble away from both him and the boy on the ground. T’Jean stayed down, a bruise already showing on his cheekbone and breathing with difficulty. He was bigger than Blendi, but it didn’t seem like it’d been a fair fight.

  Now that it was technically over, Thomas wasn’t completely sure what to do, but thankfully Uri was behind him. “Tim, do you mind getting Mx Codling for me?”

  Byall Codling didn’t take long, and he did not look happy to be called out of his office. “Blendi and T’Jean just got into a fistfight,” Uriel explained.

  The counsellor’s brown eyes went from one to the other, face impassive. Both kids were absolutely still, as if being scanned by a laser instead of someone’s eyes, their own gazes stuck to the ground. It made something in Thomas’s stomach cramp, but then he heard Byall’s voice, soft, a request. “Come with me.”

  It was granted with the same tranquillity, T’Jean and Blendi taking a step forward to walk next to their counsellor like they’d choreographed it.

  It was only then that Thomas realised all the other kids were also quiet. He turned back and clapped, getting their attention. This he was good at. “Okay! Spectacle over! Captains, replace the players you lost and get back to it.”

  They did, but Thomas didn’t go back to the bench and neither did Uriel. “So I guess it’s murder, not kissing,” he commented.

  Thomas snorted. “Yeah, I’m pretty sold on that by this point. Will Byall be able to sort them out?”

  “Mx Codling,” Uriel corrected, “has them well in hand, believe me.”

  He raised an eyebrow at that. “Should I be jealous?”

  Uri rolled his eyes at him. “No way,” he said with a soft smile. “Small and can break all my bones one-handed is not my type.�
��

  He tsked. “That’s very narrow-minded of you, sir.”

  Uri tugged at his shirt-tail, and Thomas thought he might be about to get kissed. He quickly glanced at the kids. Still playing, no one trying to murder each other, with or without sticks. Uri was still watching him when he returned his attention to him, close enough Thomas could smell the chilli con carne they’d had for lunch. “What are you doing?”

  “Not sure,” Uri replied. “But it’s your fault for calling me ‘sir’.”

  “How’s that...?” he started to ask.

  But one or both of them gave in then and the words were lost as their lips brushed against each other’s, soft and then a little wet.

  “Uri?”

  Thomas straightened, Uriel’s hand was still on the collar of his shirt when he met little Ricie’s eyes.

  “Um, what do you need?”

  “Plaster, for her knee,” Jamil said from a little further away, and Thomas looked up to find her smirking at them both. “If you gentlemen are done?”

  Thomas almost choked on his tongue and that was nothing to the way Uri was blushing, trying to hide his face as he clumsily rummaged through the first aid kit.

  “Not really done,” Thomas told Jamil. “But always at your service, milady.”

  She rolled her eyes at him for his troubles and headed back for the game.

  URI’S INVITATION WAS beyond generous but since it excluded his parents, it also required a lot of planning he wasn’t sure he was up to in the middle of the best hockey season he’d ever had.

  Deep down he must have wanted to do it, though, because there was no other explanation for telling Colleen about it.

  She shushed him. “Just... let me think.”

  He recognized her expression; it’d got him in trouble one too many times when they were kids. It should have got her in trouble a lot more often now that they weren’t, but maybe their parents did feel a little bit guilty about what they’d put her through because somehow, they seemed willing to pretend she was a model daughter even when they occasionally caught her sneaking out with people they didn’t approve of.

  Maybe they were just willing to pretend. Thomas had never been. He wasn’t wired that way, the same way he wasn’t wired to be an alpha or an omega. There was nothing for it but to live with what you got.

  “I got it!” Colleen said, straightening on her seat so abruptly Thomas almost dropped his teacup.

  And he had got very lucky in the sister department, after all, so it would have been a waste if they’d all been good at the same things. Colleen’s eyes were shining, as green as his own but framed by darker lashes. “So Val’s got to...”

  Epilogue: Together

  Uriel didn’t regret the impulse that had made him ask the first time around. He was normally so afraid of doing anything without a plan that he often ended up not doing anything. Caution was all well and good, in moderation. And so was going a little crazy, he’d found.

  If he’d waited, he might have never found the courage to let Thomas in—to trust him enough to admit what he wanted.

  Even so, he was glad they were going to take their time today.

  Thomas had been watching him closely all throughout dinner, and Uri couldn’t have said if it was because they were on a date or... well, because of what they’d said they’d do afterwards.

  And if it was because of their after-dinner plans, then... well, it wasn’t like Uri had been able to concentrate on much else all day, who was he to judge?

  “Dessert?” his lover offered.

  Uri shook his head, and Thomas grinned in response. “Impatient?” he asked, only half-teasing.

  He was, as well as nerve-wracked. He shrugged, using the best of his acting skills to give a calm façade.

  Thomas narrowed his eyes at him but didn’t object. “Guess we’re ready for the bill.” He looked away from Uri only to signal to the waiter across the room.

  “Let me take my time,” Thomas asked him once they were alone in Uri’s house—Thomas hadn’t asked why he wanted it to happen there, perhaps even a beta could see the comfort of being on your own territory when you were feeling vulnerable.

  Uri was torn between wanting to get it over with and wanting to go as slow as possible—relish every touch and every lick, so he acquiesced to the request with a nod.

  At least one of them knew what he wanted.

  Thomas grinned like he’d been given a present and rubbed Uri’s upper arms. “Colour?” he asked, unnecessarily.

  Uri stared at him. He hadn’t imagined they were doing anything like that, and in any case... But he swallowed his objections—Thomas had reassured him when he needed to be reassured, he could do the same. “White.”

  His lover nodded, then slid his right hand down Uri’s arm until he could take hold of Uri’s, taking a step towards the bedroom and tugging him along, a small smile playing on his lips. He was wearing eyeliner and some eyeshadow, and he looked ethereal and beautiful, more like a fairy tempting a traveller into the enchanted forest than a man ready to fuck.

  The bedroom was tidier than usual in preparation for this night, but Thomas was unlikely to notice, he wasn’t looking away from Uri’s face even to see where he was going. He found the bed by touch, then tilted his head to the side, looking Uri up and down in a way that felt more intimate than actual undressing.

  Only until Thomas let go of his hand and started on his tie, sliding the silky material through the hole slowly enough, the brush of cloth on cloth was the only sound louder than their breathing.

  They weren’t touching anywhere else. Uri wasn’t touching him at all. “It’s a bit like torture,” Thomas whispered against his cheek, startling him a little. The tie was gone, and his big hands were fiddling with the tiny button on Uri’s shirt. “To go this slowly, I mean. But I want... I want to kiss every inch of you, and lick it too, and... bite it.” This last was said a little more hesitatingly. “Colour?”

  Uri exhaled, feeling his chest push against Thomas’s fingers at his collar. “White.”

  He heard Thomas gulp, felt the fingers fighting his buttons twitch. After a moment, they resumed their task, a little clumsier perhaps. Still not speedy enough for Uri’s taste.

  But he’d said he’d allow Thomas to take his time, and he was right, it was a kind of torture to be touched this delicately. He was so ready to be pushed roughly onto the perfectly made bed pressing against the back of his knees like a tempting forbidden fruit.

  “I could take hours,” Thomas said, almost conversational if not for the breathless quality to his voice. He rubbed his thumb over the few inches of skin between the next two buttons, right between Uri’s collarbones, and Uri’s eyes fluttered closed as the sensation shot straight to his nipples. “Only I won’t,” he said, voice growing sharper. Uri almost jumped when he felt a hand on the button of his trousers, a thumb deftly popping it open, the zip going down almost too fast to process. Thomas paused, hand ghosting over the bulge of Uri’s erection. “Or I might. Just keep you like this, hard and hot...” He pressed his palm over the flimsy separation offered by his underwear, and Uri whimpered, spreading his legs to keep his balance. Thomas’s other hand came around his waist to grab him by his still-half-buttoned shirt.

  His lips brushed Uri’s ear as he nosed at his cheekbone. “Are you all right, sweetheart?” he asked, sweet and gentle again. “Tell me your colour.”

  The endearment went through Uri like a dagger, making him gasp loud enough he felt Thomas stiffen in front of him, gripping at him like he thought he’d fall. He didn’t understand why, but... He felt Thomas’s hand on his cheek and opened his eyes to see his lover watching him attentively. “Colour, Uri.”

  He opened his mouth and found he needed to clear his throat and swallow first. “White.” His voice was raspy, but Thomas’s face cleared.

  “You liked that, didn’t you?” he said more than asked, fingers digging a little into the nape of Uri’s neck. “I’m letting go now, okay?”

/>   Uri would have been offended by the question if he hadn’t been so glad the only place he could fall was backwards onto the bed. He didn’t, concentrating on keeping his posture straight. Thomas nodded at him from where he’d backed himself up against the wardrobe. “Take off your shirt,” he ordered.

  And Uri was turned around enough he almost tried to pull it over his head before remembering the buttons. He didn’t fare much better with the three Thomas had left in their buttonholes, especially not with the heavy weight of Thomas’s gaze distracting him from his task. But he did it, and he remembered the cuffs too, so he didn’t get his arms trapped... He shook his head and looked at the shirt in his hand, then at the man in front of him, unsure.

  Thomas crooked a finger. “Toss it here.”

  He did as he was told, just a little more clumsily than he would have if he’d been focusing. Thomas stepped forward to meet him halfway, bunching up the shirt and then didn’t stop, advancing until his hands were on Uri’s naked sides. Just that, the weight and heat of his hands, took Uri’s breath away and then Thomas’s lips did the rest, taking his mouth like he was starving for him.

  Uri opened up to it, shivering at each touch of his roving hands, whimpering when his trousers and underwear were pushed down, hard cock freed from its confines and then ignored except for the accidental and rather soft pressure of Thomas’s thigh between his legs.

  It was only when he was shoved backwards so he bounced onto the bed that he realised he’d kept his own hands by his sides the whole time. He was laid on his back, legs spread, and Thomas was smiling down at him, eyes dark with hunger. “Stay,” he ordered.

  And it was an order, Uri could feel it down to his bones. It pulled at something in him, a little uncomfortable, a little... wrong perhaps. Except he liked that pull too, it was clearing his mind of any thoughts except this man in front of him. Thomas helped matters along by going to his knees in front of him. It took Uri a moment to understand what he intended, and Thomas already had his ankle in his hands. One shoe came off, then the other, and then the rest of his clothing was tugged down and off as well, leaving him completely bare to Thomas’s gaze.