Weight of Everything

by Anna Wineheart

  So he’d kind of forgotten about paying rent these past few months. And so he’d been evicted.

  He reclined the seat as much as he could, stuck some flimsy car shades on his windows for some scant privacy, and tried to close his eyes. He thought about the bills. Then he thought about Ulric O’Neil, and a wave of hot anger rose up through his chest.

  You can’t afford to travel, huh?

  Seriously, what the fuck? Gage had been nothing but nice to him. Sure, he’d flirted with that alpha. Sure, he’d been a bit of a busybody. He’d thought that bastard was actually interested.

  For the first time in a long while, Gage had taken a chance. Something about that man made his instincts prickle. And his gamble had backfired right in his face.

  Served him right for trying to trust someone. He should’ve learned his lesson years back.

  Gage scrubbed his face, biting down all the rude profanities he wanted to spew. If that man never returned to the gym, it would still be too soon.

  He yanked his pillow over from the backseat, thinking maybe he should take up some booty calls, make some extra money on the side. He hadn’t. He didn’t think Debbie would want him to pay her bills that way, and, well. He didn’t want to tarnish his love of sex. Being paid meant having to yield to his clients’ demands.

  He could probably screen his clients, but... what if someone like Ulric hired him? Someone who had seemed so vulnerable suddenly kicking him where it hurt?

  Gage scowled. He didn’t have much left. Just his car and some random things. So no, he wasn’t selling his body, despite whatever the bastard thought about him.

  And then his stomach started to growl. Gage sighed. He’d stashed some food in the gym’s staff pantry, but he was running low. Maybe he’d go back later tonight to microwave his frozen dinner leftovers—no full kitchen there. At least he still had a bit of protein powder left.

  Gods, if Ulric were to see him like this... he would scoff, wouldn’t he? Gage fumed. Stop thinking about him.

  His phone buzzed. It was a message from his cousin, Jesse. Gonna be a barbecue party at the lake tomorrow afternoon, the station guys are inviting family. You in?

  Gage’s stomach growled louder. Well. He wouldn’t say no to food. I’m bringing my appetite, he texted back.

  Jesse’s answer was a LOL, but that was good. Gage could stuff his face a bit at the party. It’d tide him over for a while.

  He grabbed his blanket from the backseat, pulled it over himself, and tried to sleep. It eluded him like it had been doing lately.

  The last person Gage expected to see at the barbecue party was, of course, That Bastard.

  Chubby was from New York. How the hell did he know any of the Meadowfall firefighters? Gage stopped at the edge of the pavilion, staring at that figure as though it would go away. Did he really need this crap?

  He blinked again, but O’Neil was still there. All heavy curves and plain appearance, but it was definitely him. Just that he was in a different shirt from before.

  Gage was about to turn away, but O’Neil must’ve felt his stare. He glanced up—straight at Gage—and tensed. He looked surprised. Wary.

  Well, good. Gage was glad he wasn’t the only one.

  “What’s wrong?” an omega asked O’Neil. “Ulric?” He glanced between Gage and Chubby, and touched that alpha cautiously—not an intimate partner.

  Before Gage could hear his answer, Jesse bumped into his side. “Gage!” They bumped fists. “Thought you were gonna get here sooner,” Jesse said. “Have you grabbed a drink?”

  Jesse Sinclair was one of the cousins Gage had grown up with, until Jesse had disappeared one year. He’d returned a decade later, silvery scars on every inch of his body. Then he’d gotten married to a fellow alpha from the fire station, and they had a kid together. Gage thought it was weird, Jesse falling in love with an alpha. Things like that actually happened?

  Actually, Jesse seemed to have a beer belly now. That was fast.

  “You been drinking?” Gage could’ve sworn that Jesse looked perfectly trim some months back. How did he maintain his toned biceps while still having that belly? It went against all of Gage’s knowledge as a physical trainer.

  Jesse laughed, glancing at his husband, Dom. “I’ll tell you in a couple months.”

  Dom sauntered over and slipped his arm around Jesse’s waist, kissing his lips. Gage didn’t know how to feel about that. Two alphas kissing. It didn’t seem right.

  Then they shared a look that was tooth-rottingly happy. Gage almost wanted to gag, except... He’d never felt anything like that before. He’d had relationships, he’d had multiple girlfriends and boyfriends, but... in the end, they’d let him down, or he’d let them down, or it was a combination of both.

  Dom was older, and Jesse was scarred. Maybe that was the key to a relationship. When you weren’t so handsome that people fell over each other trying to get into your pants. When you didn’t have so many options that you were forced to make a relationship work. Maybe Chubby O’Neil had better luck with relationships because his looks weren’t everything.

  Was that why he’d scoffed at Gage?

  Gage found himself looking back at Chubby. Who was also staring at Jesse and his husband.

  For a moment, something flickered in his eyes—the same vulnerability that had snared Gage’s attention in the first place. O’Neil looked... lonely. Like he wanted a person to be with.

  Gage’s instincts murmured, Protect.

  Right after, Gage shook that thought off. What the fuck? He didn’t need to protect another alpha. Chubby could hold his own perfectly fine. He wasn’t the least bit vulnerable.

  Gage was fuming at himself when Jesse showed up back at his side. “Something wrong?”

  Gage scowled. “No.”

  “You keep looking at him.” And now Jesse seemed smug, or maybe too knowing.

  “Fuck off.”

  “Nope. Want a drink?” Jesse made for the drinks table; Gage followed him. “Beer?”

  “Nah. I won’t be staying long.” Gage watched as Jesse poured himself a soda. “Not drinking, yourself?”

  Jesse smiled a secret smile, one that got on Gage’s nerves. He punched Jesse’s arm; Jesse grabbed him in a headlock, and they wrestled for a moment. Then Gage swung his fist at Jesse’s beer belly, and Jesse blocked that blow so fast, Gage almost didn’t see him move.

  “Ow, fuck.” Gage hissed, his arm pinned behind his back.

  “Not in the belly,” Jesse growled.

  Why was he so damn protective over some fat? Gage tapped out. Jesse released him, scowling a little. Dom returned and kissed Jesse hard on the lips, growling something. Gage decided he’d had enough of their sap.

  He stalked over to the grill, assembled a sandwich with the leftover ingredients, and scarfed it down. There was a variety of party food to the side—hash brown patties, pizzas, fries, finger sandwiches... Nothing particularly healthy, but after a whole night of hunger pangs, Gage wasn’t about to be picky.

  He found some wings slathered in BBQ sauce. Then some salad. He took some, added ranch dressing for the calories, and emptied his plate.

  When he turned back, he found Chubby watching him. Chubby snatched his gaze away, his neck turning red. Served him right. Why was he looking at Gage, anyway, if Gage was a poor rat compared to him?

  At least Chubby didn’t seem vulnerable anymore. Gage didn’t need to feel sorry for him.

  “Why’s he here?” Gage asked Jesse.

  Jesse shrugged. “Shouldn’t he be? I think he knows Flores—that’s Gareth’s omega. Not sure how they met, though.”

  And it wasn’t Gage’s business. Gage hung around for a few more minutes, he said hi to Jesse’s three-year-old, Owen. A couple of kids ran around with streamers in the air—snakes? They were kind of cute, but most of these guys weren’t Gage’s own family. He didn’t want to intrude.

  He headed back toward the parking lot. Someone’s presence trailed behind him, not quite friendly. Definite
ly O’Neil. All of Gage’s instincts growled—he wanted to spin around, he wanted to knock that alpha to the ground and make him submit.

  Gage made it all the way to his car before he turned, itching for another fight. He wanted to win this time. Wanted to pin that man down.

  Chubby stopped a few paces away, looking wary. As he should well be.

  Then he frowned at Gage’s car—there was so much crap piled into it that he couldn’t possibly come to any other conclusion. Gage’s skin prickled with embarrassment.

  He knew the moment O’Neil understood the full extent of his circumstances: O’Neil’s mouth fell open. Then he looked... regretful? Pitying?

  Gage didn’t need his pity. Not from someone like him. “What the fuck do you want?”

  O’Neil stiffened, his chest heaving.

  And Gage wanted to punch the hell out of him. Just so he had the upper hand again. “You have a minute,” Gage muttered, “before I sink my fist into your face.”

  5

  Tensions—And Other Things—Rise

  Shit, shit. Ulric froze, his thoughts crashing into one another. He’d fucked up big time.

  Dark shadows filled Gage’s car—multiple hangers full of clothes, pillows and blankets piled high in the backseat. Random things were piled precariously to the ceiling, and more stuff had been tucked around them.

  There was moving house carload by carload, and then there was being homeless. Ulric hadn’t known that Gage was in such dire straits.

  And he’d gone and rubbed Gage’s financial difficulties in his face. If he didn’t hate me before, he definitely hates me now. Ulric’s stomach twisted.

  Gage stalked forward, his fists clenched. He looked angry, he looked like his punches would hurt, and it was all because of Ulric.

  Vaguely, Ulric remembered being pummeled into a corner at school, in the first days after he’d presented as alpha. He’d thought being alpha would stop the other kids from beating him up, but it had only become worse.

  They’d made fun of him not only for being fat, but also for being a fat alpha. They’d rained their fists on him, and when he’d hit another boy back, he’d left a bruise. The boy had run crying to the teacher, who’d sided with him. Life just wasn’t very fair. And fights were certainly not Ulric’s thing.

  They were definitely Gage’s, though.

  Somehow, or maybe because of Ulric’s trepidation, he recognized the danger in Gage’s tense shoulders, the full lips pressed into a thin line. Gage was the sort of alpha you’d drool over in movies, the sort that was in control of everything, even when he was at rock-bottom.

  Envy coiled through Ulric’s chest. But far more potent was the quiet admiration and the curiosity: what would it feel like to have Gage’s body on his? Gage pinning him, so close that Ulric could breathe the scent off his skin?

  His nerves tingled. His heart thumped. If he could fend off Gage’s blows, maybe Gage would fight harder. And he’d come closer.

  Maybe... their cocks would rub together.

  Heat swooped between Ulric’s legs. And he knew he couldn’t get hit, he knew he had to catch Gage’s punches before they landed.

  Gage swung his fist; Ulric barely caught it, jerking his head sideways. Gage snarled and yanked his fist back, striking again. His fist connected this time; pain throbbed through Ulric’s head, robbing him of his breath. Before Gage could hit him again, Ulric grabbed Gage’s hands and heaved him back against another car. Then he pushed their bodies together—his belly against Gage’s solid abs, his chest against Gage’s broad pecs. Gage’s eyes flashed; he was warm and strong—a decadent presence.

  Ulric’s cock thickened, jutting up so much that, for a moment, it tented his pants and brushed Gage’s fly. He wondered if Gage could feel that.

  But Gage only narrowed his eyes. He shoved his entire body back, snapping his hips, a hard pressure that went straight through Ulric’s pants and into his tip. Pleasure shot up his spine. Ulric gasped.

  Gage used that distraction to slam Ulric back against his car. The impact shook through Ulric’s bones; the part of him that was alpha roared.

  His entire body grew hot, ready to tackle Gage, ready to shove every inch of bare skin against him. He would let Gage feel his cock, he’d push it up against Gage and come all over him, marking Gage with his own scent.

  Ulric shoved Gage back against someone else’s car, he snapped his hips, and this time, their cocks pressed together in a sweet, slow grind. Gage’s eyes flashed.

  “You won’t get the better of me,” Ulric snarled, pushing their intimate parts together, pushing into Gage’s space, rubbing his cock all over Gage’s just because he could.

  It seemed like a damn good idea to threaten Gage with that.

  Gage heaved him off; Ulric’s lower back hit his car. “Fuck off,” Gage hissed. Then he shoved their hips together in another delicious slide, and Ulric throbbed.

  Musk billowed between them.

  Gage paused, his nostrils flaring, his eyes narrowing. He’d recognized the scent of arousal. And it was so terribly obvious that it wasn’t from him. Ulric stiffened, torn between pinning Gage down, and covering up.

  “What the fuck,” Gage whispered, glancing between them.

  Despite his trepidation, Ulric let him look. His bulge betrayed him, a thick bluntness straining against his pants. All the proof in the world that he wanted Gage Frost.

  It was supposed to be a secret.

  Gage stared at Ulric’s cock—Ulric felt the weight of his gaze through his pants. He grew so hard, it hurt. Then Gage looked up, aghast.

  Ulric knew he should back off. He knew he should listen to the part of him that said, Gage will find this repulsive, except something about Gage’s touch made him reckless. It made him want to snarl, it made him want to prove that he could be just as good of an alpha.

  Ulric shoved Gage back, a new sort of confidence thumping in his veins. “Yeah, ‘what the fuck,’” Ulric growled.

  And maybe he wanted to prove that he could get into shape, he wanted prove that he could be desirable.

  Maybe... he could become so desirable that Gage would want him.

  Gage released him, eyes narrowed. Ulric turned away. He should leave. He owed Gage nothing—maybe an apology. And an offer.

  Over his shoulder, Ulric said, “There’s space in my house if you need a room. You won’t have to pay rent.”

  That was enough of an apology. He didn’t want to say the actual words, not so obviously that Gage would know he felt bad about the insults.

  Gage scowled. “I’m not desperate enough for that.”

  That stung. Ulric breathed it out—he’d brought this on himself. No point lingering on it.

  He strode off and got into his car, driving away. After those insults, he’d thought he wouldn’t see Gage again. But Gage knew about Ulric’s tendencies now. He would probably scoff even more.

  So Ulric decided that he was heading back to the gym. Was it possible to change so much that he could impress even Gage?

  It wasn’t the best of ideas. But Ulric had his membership, and he had time. What could go wrong?

  6

  Ulric Doubles Down On Losing Weight

  Over the next couple weeks, Ulric changed his habits. He did his research on diets. He threw out the cakes and cookies and ice creams that he loved so much. He emptied his bottles of soda down the sink. He bought meat and veggies and made lettuce burgers, and he tried to eat less food.

  That killed him some. Several times a day, he ached for a fizzy mouthful of sweet soda, he ached for fluffy icing and moist chocolate cake on his tongue. He badly wanted to dive into a pile of freshly-baked bread and stuff himself senseless.

  It felt like he’d broken up with his favorite food. That probably hurt just as much as when Mick had dumped him.

  In the daytime, Ulric worked at his data analysis job. At night, when he was certain that Gage’s shift had ended, he went to the gym and did some hours of cycling. He built himself up to the level
s with the highest resistance, the ones that had him leaning forward, panting as he pedaled against wheels that felt like they’d grown ten times as heavy.

  Ulric finished with his cycling, wiping off his sweat. He was exhausted. But... he’d promised himself a tiny slice of cake—tiramisu from a bakery—if he tried something new tonight.

  He could already taste the coffee in every bite of cloud-soft cake, he could imagine licking sweet whipped cream off his fork.

  Maybe he could do a bench press for just five minutes.

  He headed cautiously to the weights section, avoiding the couple of people already there. He wasn’t going to make a fool of himself again. From the corner of his eye, he watched as one of the guys added weights to his barbell.

  Ulric added a couple of small weights to his own. Then he added a couple more, because starting out with the smallest weight seemed... kind of pathetic.

  He knew he shouldn’t, he knew he should do the minimum just to get used to it. But Gage wasn’t here. It was okay if Ulric fucked up, right?

  He tested the barbell—it wasn’t too heavy. So he lay back on the bench, made sure his grip was comfortable, and lifted the barbell off its support.

  It was a little heavier from this angle, he realized. His muscles strained. Ulric did a rep, then another. He felt embarrassed, counting them out one by one instead of sets of five like the gym rats seemed to do. He lowered the barbell a third time, then a fourth, his arms starting to ache.

  After he returned the barbell to the rack, he gave himself a few minutes to rest. He gulped down some water. Then he lay back, grasped the barbell, and tried to lift it.