Weight of Everything

by Anna Wineheart

  Ulric looked back at his bacon. Gage was right, actually. It was one of the priciest coffees you could get your hands on—it had a rich, dark flavor, earthy and smooth, slightly bitter. Ulric had figured he’d need something special to get through today. “Well, don’t waste it, then.”

  “I won’t.” Gage grinned and wandered over. Ulric tried not to breathe in that pine scent. He tried not to fixate on Gage’s smile.

  He didn’t know what had possessed him to invite Gage here, but this still felt like a dream. Gage in his house, drinking his coffee, smiling at Ulric and asking to be his friend. Gage smelled like soap and pine, and his skin looked soft. His lips, too.

  He’s going to hurt me. Ulric flipped the bacon and turned on the burner for the other pan. “I’m making scrambled eggs. You want some?”

  “I’ll cook them. Can’t let you do all the work.”

  Ulric frowned. But Gage only winked, in that suave way that weakened Ulric’s resolve.

  “I make a mean plate of scrambled eggs.” Gage pulled the egg carton from the fridge. Then the cream and butter. “We could do a cook-off, but maybe another day. I have to get to work.”

  “Maybe.” Ulric wouldn’t say no to Gage making him food. “Pot roast?”

  “Ribs.” Gage grinned. “Juicy, pluck-the-bones-out ribs that are so tender, it’s better than sex.”

  “You can make food better than sex?” Sex with Gage would already be incredible. “I doubt it.”

  Gage bumped his arm, looking smug. “Yeah, tell me that after you’ve eaten my food,” Gage growled. “I’ll bet you fifty bucks you’ll groan like you’re about to come.”

  “I’ll bet you a hundred.”

  Gage’s smile grew, a confident slash of pink that just about dropped Ulric’s pants.

  Ulric made himself focus on the bacon. Next to him, Gage melted some butter in the pan. He cracked eggs into a bowl and beat them up, adding generous pours of heavy cream.

  It was going to be a decadent meal—Ulric could already tell. “That’s what you make for your morning-after breakfasts, isn’t it?” he muttered.

  “How’d you guess?” Gage poured the eggs into the pan. “I haven’t had a single person complain about it.”

  Ulric didn’t want to think about Gage’s one-night stands, either. He pulled his cartoon duck mug from the cabinet, poured himself coffee, and added cream. Then he allowed himself a bit of sugar. It was All Hell Breaks Loose week. If he imploded over the next few days, at least he would’ve had some decent coffee before he met his end.

  In between stirring his eggs, Gage turned, surveying Ulric. His gaze swept over Ulric’s face, then his mug, warm like a lover’s touch. Ulric almost blushed. And Gage looked thoughtful. “You know, you look kind of cute like that.”

  Ulric sprayed coffee all over the stove. “What the fuck?”

  “No?” Gage squinted and tilted his head, scrutinizing Ulric. “You’re wearing your glasses, which is a plus.”

  “These are just glasses.”

  “But they make you look smart.”

  Ulric stared. Had Gage hit his head sometime during the night? It didn’t seem as though he was joking. In fact, Gage looked completely serious. So why...? “I’m fat,” Ulric said eventually. It wasn’t something he wanted to mention, but Gage had to know this.

  Gage’s attention coasted down Ulric’s chest, to his belly. Ulric held his breath and poked at the bacon. He didn’t want to hear Gage talking about all his extra pounds. Bad enough that they were so difficult to shed.

  Gage shrugged. “Yeah, well.”

  Didn’t it matter to him? “You’re a physical trainer.”

  “It just means I see people with all kinds of body types.”

  Was he... pitying Ulric? Was this why he was being nice? “You haven’t dated anyone fat before,” Ulric said.

  Gage almost looked guilty as he folded in the scrambled egg. “I guess not.”

  Ulric breathed out the crushing I knew it in his chest. “Anyway, you said we’re going to be friends.”

  Not boyfriends. At least Ulric didn’t have to get his hopes up that high.

  “Yeah. Movie night tonight?” Gage smiled. “You pick something.”

  That... almost sounded like a date. “Sure. I like horror movies.”

  “Those make me scream like a baby.” Gage laughed. “Are you sure?”

  Someone like Gage, screaming? “No way.”

  “Yes way.”

  “We’ll watch the Bloody Hollows movie that just released, then,” Ulric said. “I’ve been wanting to see it.”

  Gage scowled. “I’m not watching that.”

  “Chicken.”

  That slipped out of Ulric’s mouth before he really thought about it—a remnant from his past. But instead of getting offended, Gage straightened his shoulders, looking obstinate. “Fine. I’ll watch it.”

  “I’ll get some popcorn,” Ulric said.

  “I’ll make it. It’s fantastic when you top it with powdered parmesan. Mm.” Gage grunted, looking so satisfied that Ulric couldn’t help staring. “Here. Egg’s almost done.”

  He dished breakfast. Ulric added bacon strips to the plates. Then they moved to the dining table and sat across from each other. That was slightly awkward.

  Ulric stared at his morning-after omelette, cooked to perfection—it glistened in the sunlight, golden yellow and creamy, dusted with pepper. “It’ll go perfectly with toast,” he blurted.

  Gage made to stand. “I’ll pop some in the oven.”

  “No, you don’t have to.”

  “Why not?”

  Ulric flushed. “I’m on a diet.”

  Gage thought about it, still halfway out of his chair. “Sliced tomatoes?”

  “This is fine.” Ulric popped a bite of omelette into his mouth. It fell apart on his tongue, warm and buttery and a touch salty, and it tasted so good that he might’ve groaned.

  He scooped another chunk into his mouth, then another. Egg was delicious. Especially cooked this way. Especially because Gage had made this for him. It wasn’t until he’d emptied half his plate that he looked up, to find Gage sitting down hard, watching him.

  “Good, huh?” Gage murmured.

  Ulric froze. That wasn’t what he’d planned. He hadn’t meant to stuff his face in front of Mr. Perfect. Nor had he meant to groan and make weird sounds while eating Gage’s food.

  Gage smiled. “Are you set to do the cook-off this weekend? I’ll bet you two hundred bucks that my ribs will beat the best sex you’ve ever had.”

  Fuck. Ulric knew Gage would win, hands-down. It wasn’t like Ulric had experienced mind-blowing sex before. “Sure.”

  “I can’t wait until you taste my meat,” Gage said, his smile slow and confident. “And I’ll taste yours.”

  Ulric’s face burned. Gage had to know what that sounded like.

  “I should get back to work,” Ulric mumbled, hurrying back into the kitchen before his body betrayed him further. He did the dishes, put away the leftover bacon, and refilled his coffee mug. Then he hurried upstairs, away from Gage’s too-shrewd gaze.

  Maybe he shouldn’t have agreed to movie night. Maybe he shouldn’t let himself be so vulnerable, but he couldn’t help it.

  Ulric locked himself in his study, hoping Gage would have the good sense to stay away.

  9

  There Is Only One Couch

  Of all the people in the world... Gage hadn’t expected O’Neil to moan over his food.

  He’d made omelettes for others. Girlfriends, boyfriends, one-night-stands... None of them had ever reacted the way O’Neil had. At best, he’d received a sweet thank you, or maybe a blowjob in return.

  Then along came Ulric O’Neil, who had taken one bite and groaned, his head thrown back, his jaw working slowly like he was savoring the most decadent thing he’d ever tasted. He’d scooped up mouthful after mouthful, every bite drawing a new sound from his throat.

  At his reaction, something primal had stirred in Gage’
s gut. He’d never heard an alpha groan before, not like that. Never when they were eating his omelettes.

  He’d started wondering if O’Neil would groan, eating his ribs. Or his steaks. Then he’d wondered if O’Neil would groan if he tasted Gage’s cock.

  And Gage had hardened, thinking about pushing his tip into O’Neil’s mouth, O’Neil with that look of bliss on his face.

  He would love it, wouldn’t he?

  Suddenly, Gage had known what O’Neil would sound like, if Gage ever sucked his cock. He’d known, too, the thickness of O’Neil’s tip in his mouth, the weight of it on his tongue, the salt of his precome as he yanked on Gage’s hair, panting.

  It had been... kind of hot.

  Gage had grown hard that morning—for an alpha, of all things. He wasn’t sure why. He wasn’t sure what to do about it.

  But O’Neil was also his landlord. And Gage very definitely owed him more than $800 for this month’s rent.

  He could... owe that alpha favors. He could even suck O’Neil’s cock. Just to see what it’d be like. Just to taste him, and—gods, just to see him come apart.

  Gage swallowed, pulling up outside the house. It was getting late. He’d had dinner out, just so he wouldn’t try and cook for O’Neil and end up springing another erection. Especially if they were going to watch a movie together.

  When he stepped through the front door, he found the living room lights dimmed, O’Neil already on one side of the couch, his body faintly lit by the TV’s blue glow.

  “I have a bowl for the popcorn,” O’Neil said, nudging the huge mixing bowl sitting in the middle of the couch.

  Yeah, good idea to leave some space between them. Gage shut the door, kicking his shoes off. “I’ll get the popcorn started. Have you eaten?”

  O’Neil nodded. “Have you?”

  “Yeah.” Gage thought about lingering, maybe chatting with O’Neil about his day. He headed into the kitchen, stuck a bag of popcorn into the microwave, and wandered back out. “We’re really watching your horror movie, huh?”

  O’Neil looked curious. “You don’t want to?”

  Gage tried not to wince. “It’s not my thing.”

  “What movies do you like to watch, then?”

  “What I tell everyone? The superhero action movies.”

  O’Neil studied him. “What don’t you tell everyone? The movies that are your guilty pleasure.”

  That was a secret that only Gage and his siblings knew. He pursed his lips. “Why should I tell you?”

  But O’Neil just grinned. “I guessed it! You have secret kinks you don’t tell anyone.”

  “It’s not a kink! Just my taste in movies!”

  “What kind of taste is it?” O’Neil raised his eyebrows.

  Gage flopped down on the other end of the couch; the bowl bounced between them. “Not telling. You’ll laugh.”

  O’Neil sobered. “I don’t laugh at people.”

  “Of course you do.”

  “No.”

  He sounded so serious that Gage stared. “Why not?”

  O’Neil examined the floor, silent for a long time. “I was laughed at my whole life. For being fat.”

  Shit. Gage stopped breathing. He should’ve known, but... Part of him wanted to hold back and brush it off, treat it like it wasn’t a big deal so this wouldn’t become an involved friendship.

  But deep down, he remembered being humiliated, too. He remembered the shame, he remembered feeling so awkward that he wanted to crawl under the floorboards and hide somewhere. He remembered wanting everyone to forget he existed.

  Had O’Neil felt that way his whole life?

  Gage felt bad for him, suddenly. He knew that feeling of being alone. And he didn’t want O’Neil to keep on feeling it.

  “There was once, a long time ago.” Gage tried to find the words for a memory so terribly repressed. Maybe O’Neil would laugh at him anyway. “During high school prom. I had a schoolmate who was damn jealous of my looks.”

  O’Neil looked up, his forehead furrowed. He didn’t say anything, so Gage continued, “Actually, I should start from the beginning. Ramsey used to be my best friend. We went to elementary school together, we sat with each other in middle school. I used to think, if one of us presented as alpha, and the other as omega, we’d get married and... whatever.”

  That sickened him to think about now. “Thing was, we both presented as alpha. We were still best friends and all that. Did projects together, pooled our money together and bought games. Except when we got to high school, he fell in love with an omega. And that omega fell in love with me.”

  O’Neil winced. “What happened next?”

  Gage remembered the fights, he remembered Ramsey spitting poisonous words at him. And the arguments—so many of them. “We had a huge falling out. I didn’t want the omega. He said I should hook him up with her. I tried pushing her toward Ramsey, but she wasn’t interested. Ramsey thought I was telling her shit about him, so he started trying to backstab me.

  “He spread rumors about me in school. He told the teachers I cheated on tests. He told our friends I slept with every fucking omega in our class.”

  O’Neil looked horrified. “Did you do anything about it?”

  “Yeah. I pulled rank and told him to fuck off.” Gage huffed mirthlessly. “These looks get me some power, you know. I got most of them to believe me. ‘Course, Ramsey was furious. Every lie he told, I tried to fix. The teachers loved me. Then he stopped being a twit, and I thought maybe we could be friends again.”

  Probably the stupidest thing Gage had done.

  O’Neil looked wary, sympathetic, like he wanted to reach out and hold Gage’s hand. “Except prom night happened.”

  “Yeah.” Gage blew out a deep breath. “That.”

  Gage had worked a couple of part time jobs, trying to save some money so he could rent a nice suit for prom. Everyone had told him he’d be picked as Prom Alpha, and Gage didn’t doubt them. He’d been close to the stage, Ramsey with him, when they’d called him up to receive his crown.

  “Anyway, I got Ramsey to hold my drink. Then I went up on stage, and the next thing I knew, Ramsey yelled. And he climbed up onto the stage and threw my drink in my face. In front of the entire school.”

  O’Neil looked horrified.

  “That wasn’t even the worst part,” Gage said, his heart heavy. “He’d pulled on a mask. And he’d pulled a jar of stuff out from somewhere—I didn’t even know what it was. Until he emptied it all over my head and I realized it was piss. And it was still warm.”

  “That’s awful.” O’Neil grimaced.

  Gage didn’t look at him. He wasn’t proud of that moment in his life. “He’d gotten some other friends of his to come up on stage. And they broke my nose and beat me up. In front of the whole school. I tried to fight back, but honestly, there were too many of them.”

  Those guys had punched Gage in the gut, they’d choked him and pulled off his pants and poured more piss on him, and at the end of it, Gage had been winded, beaten down into a crumpled heap.

  “I couldn’t even put my pants back on, it was so torn up.” Gage forced a smile. “So I tried to make a joke out of it. Black eyes and all. The entire hall was so silent, you could hear a pin drop. And no one came forward to stop them.”

  Gage remembered the betrayal he’d felt. The bewilderment. The sinking realization that he wasn’t strong enough to shove off all those guys. Then he’d felt the humiliation, he’d heard Ramsey’s laughter even before he left the stage.

  “Weren’t they caught?” O’Neil asked, looking defeated.

  Gage shook his head. “They had their scents suppressed. I should’ve realized something was up. No one tried to catch them.”

  The emcees had told him to go and wash the piss and blood off. After Gage had left the stage, they’d given the Prom Alpha crown to someone else. The stares and jeers he’d received in the following weeks almost made Gage stop going entirely.

  He brushed off the memories,
exhaling. O’Neil looked shaken. So Gage reached out, squeezing his arm. “I’m fine. It happened a long time ago.”

  For a moment there, he thought maybe O’Neil might’ve lost some respect for him, or maybe he’d lose interest in Gage entirely. But O’Neil just stared quietly at Gage for a long time. “I didn’t know people hated you.”

  Gage shrugged. “Comes with the territory.”

  That only seemed to upset O’Neil more. He set the popcorn bowl aside. Then he scooted across the couch and pulled Gage into a tight hug.

  “I’m glad it’s over,” O’Neil murmured, his glasses bumping into Gage’s ear, his body warm and soft against Gage’s side. Despite his appearance, O’Neil’s embrace was tight, strong, and... there was no judgment in him at all. Just a quiet comfort.

  Gage couldn’t remember the last time someone had given him a hug, just so they could comfort him. And a tension in his body—that he hadn’t been aware of—uncoiled, taking his anxiety away. Gage relaxed. “I’m fine, really.”

  “Are you sure?” O’Neil’s breath was warm on his ear. “It’s okay to be upset.”

  “It’s in the past,” Gage said. As comfortable as this was, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to return the hug. He thought... maybe he should. But he didn’t have it in him to reach out, to trust someone enough that they could hurt him again.

  O’Neil released him some time later, pausing with his face right in front of Gage, as though... what, he wanted to kiss Gage on the nose?

  Gage wasn’t sure how he felt about that. But O’Neil shook himself and pulled away, leaving cool air on Gage’s skin. Gage missed the heat and pressure of his touch.

  “I should get the popcorn,” O’Neil said. “It’s probably already cold.”

  “Nah, I’ll get it. I told you I’d make popcorn.”

  O’Neil scowled. “No, you sit.”

  Gage rolled his eyes. “Not gonna.”

  O’Neil lunged off the couch, heading for the kitchen. Gage chased him and smacked him lightly on the ass. O’Neil yelped.

  “What was that about?” He grabbed his asscheeks incredulously, as though he was trying to protect them from Gage.