by Aiden Bates
"Honey, that's not how science works. Sometimes there's something wrong, and that's just the way it is. It can't be predicted, you can't protect against it, and it's not your fault no matter what anyone tells you. Okay?" He let himself indulge in a brief kiss to the top of Elias' head. "I know plenty of people had advice and speculation—"
"How would you know?" Elias snorted. 'You're an alpha. You've probably never even seen a baby before."
Pat chuckled. "That's what you think. There were a lot of young families back in East Boston. Everyone helped out when they could. I've helped nurse people through miscarriages, taken care of newborns, taught little kids how to ride a bike, I've even helped teach single dads how to braid their kids' hair." He adjusted his grip on Elias.
Elias picked up his head. "You're joking."
That hurt, a little, but Pat just smirked. "Hey, I'm a man of many talents. And us kids who spoke fluent English had to translate for the newer arrivals, or the older folks who never learned it well. You wouldn't believe how many doctor's appointments I've been to. Nothing makes me blush anymore." He chuckled again. "Believe me. I know exactly what you've probably been told because I've heard it. And there was plenty of crap that I didn't translate. This was not your fault, babe. And it doesn't reflect on you. Are you sure you can't have kids now, or did they just tell you that you might not be able to?"
Elias looked down. "They said that the chances were pretty low." He licked his lips. "I haven't been back since they pronounced me healed."
"Ah." Pat shifted in his seat and pulled Elias against him, so that they were both reclining. He knew that it was a bad idea. It was just going to break his heart. Right now, though, he could all but feel the pain rolling off of Elias. Omegas needed touch, if they were to find comfort and peace. It didn't have to be sexual. Pat was good at that. He could deal with his own grief later. "I don't think anyone could blame you, really. You were hurting, and there was no one around to ease that for you."
"It's not like my family wasn't there." Pat could feel Elias frown against his chest.
"Did they ease it for you?"
Elias snorted. "You know how they are. I'm sure they meant well."
"They just weren't able to give you what you needed." Pat struggled to breathe around the lump in his throat.
Elias looked up at him. "Hey. You had no way of knowing." He looked down. "That's on me."
Pat shook his head. "No. If I'd made you feel like you could tell me something like that in the first place, we'd be having a very different conversation." He tried to ignore his former lover's lilac scent. This wasn't the time. All he wanted, all that was appropriate right now, was comfort.
"Pat." Elias settled in. "I… it's like I said. I would have called, eventually, but then I lost the baby. And it was like, what could I possibly say? What was I supposed to offer?"
"I'm sorry you felt that you had to offer anything." Pat closed his eyes. "Kids are nice, sure, but it was never about that. We'd never even talked about that. It was always about us. I only ever needed you." Was that too much to say? Was that too much to put onto a man who was obviously still grieving?
If it was, Elias didn't say so. He just settled in and held on tight. "I've missed you," he admitted in a quiet voice. "Sometimes I sit around and wonder 'what if,' you know?"
"That's normal." Pat looked up at the ceiling. He couldn't make himself look at Elias' face. "I mean I won't pretend I didn't."
"So, you're over it?"
"I wouldn't go that far." Pat held Elias close. "I guess I just got more realistic, I don't know. I just accepted that this was the way that it was. Not over it, just… I don't know. Mature, maybe. Some things you can fight. Some things you can't." He gave Elias a little squeeze when he felt Elias' shoulders shake. "Hey, now. None of that. We've already established that none of this was your fault."
"I came over to try to help you, goofball." Elias gave a shaky little laugh. "You shouldn't have to comfort me. We thought you were going to have a stroke."
"I'd just had a pretty big shock." Pat grimaced.
"I thought it wasn't about babies." Elias' voice was quiet, barely a whisper.
"It isn't. Wasn't." Pat hoped that his slip of the tongue didn't catch Elias' ears. "I just—all of this stuff had been going on, all of these possibilities, and then the grief and the shame at not being there for you. I mean that's my job, you know? Was my job." He closed his eyes again. He couldn't let himself think about it.
"You should probably go to bed," Elias said after a minute. "I mean you passed out right there at the restaurant."
It was an out. Pat didn't want it. He wanted to stay right where he was, but he understood that Elias didn't. "Yeah. Okay. I guess I did. Sorry about that. You shouldn't have had to deal with that."
"Don't apologize, Pat." Elias sat up and stroked Pat's face, just once. "I'll stay on your couch, just in case. I'm a little worried about your health, what with what happened and all. It's fine."
"There's a guest room." Pat waited for Elias to sit up and then stood on shaky feet. "Here. I'll help you make up the bed and stuff."
"I can do it. You need the rest." Elias' eyes were still red when he smiled up at Pat.
Pat led Elias to the linen closet and helped him find some sheets. At least the guest room was clean. There wasn't much in there, but it was clean. He handed off the sheets and tried not to meet Elias' eyes, and then shuffled off to his own room.
He barely remembered to put on sweats before crawling into bed. He rarely got overnight guests, at least not the kind for whom he needed to wear clothes. He lay down under the covers, head throbbing, and closed his eyes.
Sleep didn't come.
He'd been foolish to think that it would. While he was out in the living room, he could focus on Elias. Now he was alone, and he couldn't avoid thinking about himself. He understood, on an intellectual level, that the Elias would have miscarried whether they were together or not. That was how these things worked. There were no might-have-beens. He and Elias would not be parents now, even if Elias had called him to tell him. Even if they'd reconciled.
Even if he'd managed to make Elias love him enough not to kick him away in the first place.
At the same time, he hadn't quite killed off the part of his brain that asked what if. He could see himself rubbing Elias' belly, swollen in pregnancy. He could see himself rubbing Elias' equally swollen feet. He could see himself in the hospital, holding their baby while Elias slept.
Their baby was beautiful, and held Pat's finger with a strong grip.
He rolled over, buried his face in his pillow, and let himself cry.
He didn't blame Elias, not even a little bit. Who knew why he'd miscarried? The baby had just developed wrong. It happened. If anyone was at fault, it was probably Pat and his poisonous genes. He didn't know of any specific issues on that score. He'd never bothered to have himself checked out.
Who was he kidding, anyway? He couldn't have ever been there for Elias. Elias had been kind, when he said that he'd been hormonal when breaking up with Pat. His pregnancy hadn't been advanced enough to change his scent; it certainly hadn't been advanced enough to push him that far. Elias wouldn't have let Pat be a father and Elias' family would have been even less willing to let a dirty Brazilian from East Boston have anything to do with their grandchild. Bad enough that he'd gotten their pretty omega son pregnant in the first place.
He curled up into a little ball. As long as he kept his face in his pillow, no one would have to know that he was this weak.
He couldn't understand why this news was hitting him as hard as it was. He'd loved Elias, but Elias hadn't been part of his life for over a decade. He'd hoped to claim him someday but he hadn't planned on it. They'd never discussed it, so any children they might have had would have been purely theoretical. He hadn't let himself fantasize about them, because he didn't have a lot of great experiences with family.
So, why was he lying here in the dark, inconsolable about a baby who never really lived
, and a life he never could have had with a man who hadn't wanted him in the first place?
He looked back over the past ten years. What did he really have to show for it? He had a condo. Sometimes people visited him there, but not often. He had a job, but he could leave that job tomorrow and no one would know the difference. He had acquaintances, but no one with whom he was really close. He had a long string of guys who he'd shared a night or two with, but he'd never tried for more.
And, whatever Matt might have said tonight, neither had they.
Pat hadn't ever thought of himself as lonely before, but he had deliberately avoided any kind of self-reflection. Elias' baby, the one Pat had helped to make, represented a different version of Pat. It represented a version of Pat that might have left something behind him when he died.
It represented a version of Pat that, like the baby itself, could never have lived.
Chapter Seven
It didn't take long to figure out how to work Pat's ancient coffee maker. Elias had a harder time trying to figure out what to make for breakfast. Pat had no actual food in his house. Elias checked on his ex, discovered that he was still deeply asleep, and decided to run out and buy something instead. He wasn't ordinarily a fan of throwing money at problems, but in this case he figured that it was justifiable.
Pat was still asleep when he got back, but he stumbled out of his room at about nine. Fortunately, his Brazilian Breakfast Plate was still warm. Elias almost forgot to mention it when he caught sight of Pat.
No one looks good first thing in the morning. At least, no one is supposed to look good first thing in the morning. Elias had seen Pat first thing in the morning, of course. He'd seen him naked, for crying out loud, but it had been a decade, and Pat hadn't even been completely filled out. Now he stood there in nothing but a pair of threadbare gray sweatpants looking at Elias with those bleary, sleepy gray eyes of his, and Elias almost dropped his coffee cup.
How long had it been since Elias had wanted like this?
"You're still here." Pat's voice was soft with sleep, and he didn't sound angry. Instead, he sounded confused, like he wasn't used to people sticking around after spending the night.
That didn't say good things. Elias wasn't going to think about it. He cleared his throat and tried not to think about Pat's obvious and involuntary morning wood. Or his abs. Or his pecs. Or his biceps. He averted his eyes and looked at the table. "Yeah. I called Ryan and told him you were sick, and that I was sticking around to keep an eye on you. He'll call in to check on us a little bit later. I can't say that he was thrilled, but what's he going to do—fire me?" He shrugged.
"Oh." Pat glanced at the food and disappeared into the bathroom for a little while. When he re-emerged, he'd thrown a bathrobe over his torso. Elias wasn't sure if he should be pleased or disappointed. "You got breakfast?"
"Yeah. I went to that little café on the corner." Elias blushed. "I told the guy behind the counter that I needed something for a sick friend in the neighborhood. When I told him it was you, he made sure he loaded the order up." He grinned. "He told me you ran a couple of armed robbers off a few years ago."
Pat ducked his head, screening his face with his unbound hair. "It wasn't a big deal; anyone would have done it. Ulysses is being dramatic."
Elias raised an eyebrow, but let it slide. "Sit down, eat. Apparently, empanadas are the cure to every possible illness. That's what Ulysses told me, anyway."
Pat sat. "So, you called me in sick?"
"Sorry. I just—I mean when you passed out yesterday, I got scared. I didn't want you to drive. I was worried for you."
Pat squirmed. "I mean, I should be pissed or something, I've never taken a sick day, but okay." He blew out a long stream of air and bounced his left leg. "You don't have to stick around, though. I mean we've got the case, and this isn't exactly the most exciting apartment."
"I want to." Elias met his eyes. "Like I said, I was worried." He looked away again. Maybe he should take off. The place was overwhelming. Everything smelled like ginger, like Pat, and here he was looking gorgeous after a terrible night and before coffee.
Pat opened his mouth, and then he shut it again. "Thank you," he said, and dug into his food.
After breakfast, Pat got up again and rummaged for a clean toothbrush. "Here," he said. "You weren't expecting to get stuck here. I can find you some clean clothes, too. Nothing like what you're used to, but at least it'll be clean." His cheeks darkened. "I know how much you always hated wearing the same clothes for too long."
Elias chuckled and took the toothbrush. "You don't have to do all of this, Pat. But thanks." He put his hand on Pat's arm. "You really are the most generous guy."
Pat froze.
"I'm sorry." Elias pulled his hand away and looked down. He thought they might have gotten over this when Pat had held him through his tears last night, but apparently not.
Pat squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. "Wait. Elias. It's not… it's not what you think. It's hard, you know? It's hard, when you touch me. It's hard, because I want to… and that's not right."
Understanding dawned on Elias' brain. "You were pissed that I kissed you because you thought I didn't mean it."
"You didn't mean it." Pat's voice hardened. "You only did it to make me stay and talk to you."
Elias stomach twisted around his spine, but he stepped forward and caught Pat's hands in his. "A person can feel a few different things at the same time. And yeah. I did want to make you stay and talk to me, when I started to kiss you. By the time I touched my lips to yours, all I wanted to do was keep kissing."
Pat breathed in, sharp and a little panicked. His eyes widened, and he bit down on the inside of his cheek. "You don't mean that," he said. "You can't mean that."
"There was never a point when we didn't have great physical chemistry, Pat." Elias inched closer. "And I do care about you. I mean part of the thing, with us, was how we expressed that care."
Pat swallowed hard, and for a second Elias thought that he was going to pass out again. Then he moved forward and put his hands on Elias' hips. After a second's hesitation, he bowed his head and touched his lips to Elias'.
Their kiss outside the coffee shop had been frantic and almost violent. Pat's kiss was tentative, like he expected to be pushed away at any second, and it was more sweet than sexy. Elias could almost feel Pat's emotion through his touch. He needed encouragement. Elias could give that.
He cradled Pat's face with his hands, and he pressed his tongue against Pat's lips. Pat responded immediately by deepening the kiss. Their bodies molded together as Elias explored the depths of Pat's mouth, re-acquainting himself with the taste of his beloved. He could pick up on the cheap toothpaste Pat had always used, but underneath that was the ginger flavor that had always been there. Elias had been with a few other alphas since the breakup, but he hadn't met another one who tasted like his scent.
Pat's hands moved in broad strokes down Elias' clothed back. It felt amazing to have those hands on him again, even through two layers of cotton, and Elias shivered to think of what they would feel like on his bare torso. Of course, he wasn't in the same kind of shape as Pat, but no one was in the same kind of shape as Pat. He wasn't going to let his own insecurity scare him off.
He let out a little moan as he felt Pat hardening against him, and Pat broke the kiss with an embarrassed grimace. "Sorry," he said.
Elias put a finger against Pat's lips. "Nothing to be sorry for." He unbuttoned his dress shirt and hung it on the door to the guest room, where he'd spent the night. "I like it." He eased the bathrobe off of Pat's shoulders and hung it from the open door of the linen closet. "I want it."
Pat jumped a little. "Are you sure about that?"
Elias took Pat's hand and led him toward his own bedroom. Was he sure about it? "I'm worried about your health," he said, "after last night. That's got nothing to do with me wanting you."
"But we—"
Elias stripped off his undershirt.
&nb
sp; Pat licked his lips. His eyes were glued to Elias' body, and his thin sweatpants were doing nothing to hide his erection. "Oh, God," he murmured. "You have to be sure, Elias."
"I'm sure. I want you. We can do this, Pat." He put his hand on Pat's solid chest.
Pat hissed as Elias flicked a thumb across one dark nipple, and then he stalked over to the nightstand. With a growl, he opened the drawer and pulled out a bottle of lube and a strip of condoms. "I don't want to have to go looking," he said.
He guided Elias over to the side of the unmade bed. Elias had a momentary pang at the sight of the strip of condoms, but he pushed it aside. Neither of them had been celibate since the breakup, and Pat's colleagues had been pretty open about Pat's activities. He knew what he was getting into, and he had a better idea of what was behind it now.
Elias decided to get rid of his dress pants and boxers. Neither of them was exactly appealing after having been worn for two days, and he really just wanted to be naked for his alpha. Maybe he shouldn't be thinking of Pat, or anyone else, as his alpha, but he couldn't help it. Pat had always been his alpha, and the title was ingrained.
