That hair-thin connection, which I thought was just a metaphor I'd built in my head because of how I felt when Ralph looked at me, pulses.
What the…?
Long, windy fibres of discomfort tangle in my chest, swamping the little thread with unease. Turning my head away awkwardly, I shrug. "Balga, before it got bougey?" I joke.
There's a tiny rumble from behind me as Ralph sits back on his heels, a flicker of strain in his eyes. If I couldn't feel James' chest vibrate, I would've thought I'd imagined it.
Seb lets out another loud snort. I poke my tongue out at him.
"Don't pretend like you know where that is, Bondi," I giggle, and nudge him in the ribs.
Seb huffs an exaggerated sigh as he strokes Zeke's hair again. "Rude. I'll have you know I'm totally a man of the people. Salt of the fucking earth. I mean, totally truffle salt—"
Ralph's laugh drowns out the rest of his sentence as he clambers over James' lower body. After helping me rearrange my legs into a less uncomfortable position, he pulls the blanket over me and James, then snuggles in next to us, my earlier moment of apprehension dissolving into the warmth of his body. His face relaxes back into contentment.
Leaning forward, James rests his head on my shoulder.
"Well, wherever you came from, I'm glad you did," he mutters into my neck, the soft tickle of his lips making me twitch around him again.
I wish I knew what to say to that; the silence that seemed so comfortable earlier now just seems… unfilled. I'm grateful when my awkward stutter is interrupted by the rattle of the door handle. Allen, clad in boxers and a purposeful smile, comes back into the room with a white tube, a stack of neatly folded flannels, and a faded blue heat pack that smells like baking bread.
"Comfortable?" Allen asks as he gently places the heat pack on Zeke's back. Zeke hums in agreement as Seb continues to idly stroke his hair.
"Yes," I whisper, before I can think. Softness sweeps over Allen's face. I'm not sure whether it's contentment or relief. Or whether I'm just reading something into it.
Chapter 12
Where the hell did she come from?
I feel like I've been grabbed by the balls and am being dragged along at warp speed. Part of me is absolutely terrified, and knows I'm being utterly foolhardy and ridiculous. That same part of me is also on the verge of panic about how close we all got to having sex with someone without having a conversation about testing status or contraception, and what impact such an ethical near-miss would have on our careers. But the other part…
How the hell did she do this to me, to us, in less than one night?
She's laughing as she eases herself off James' knot. James, who is usually so uncomfortable around omegas. He's been willing to act as an emergency knot in a pinch when we're working, but otherwise he's always preferred to support Seb and Zeke and me while we take the lead with our clients.
My beta, my Clarke, my first business partner and my oldest friend, who's usually caught up in his business planning and professionalism, is nuzzling against her neck, still sex drunk, without a care in the world. The normal background hum of stress in our bond has been replaced by something gentler. The cool, clean feeling washes through our bond as he rubs his cheek against her, despite his fatigue.
I grab a soft flannel and hold it between James and Dellie as she eases herself off his knot. James blushes and Seb chuckles at the popping sound it makes. I grab my undershirt and pull it over her head, helping her with the armholes, and stroke her face gently. She smiles softly at me, and clamps the flannel between her thighs as she waddles to the bathroom. I grab another clean flannel, and start wiping James down.
The door snicks closed behind her. We let out a collective sigh.
"Fuuuuuck." Seb exhales quietly, his face plastered in a grin as he leans back into the headboard.
There's a soft groan from James. "She's just… I can't… that scent…" His voice is a low murmur. He shakes his head a few times, blinking rapidly. I bite back a chuckle.
Clarke flushes pink, a smile edging over his lips. I can feel his mixture of exhaustion and excitement through the bond. "Do you think… could she be… you know…" He whispers.
Zeke shrugs.
Sitting back on my heels, I sigh quietly. "I… I'm not sure yet," I whisper. "Maybe. If we're extremely lucky." I turf the flannel into the washing basket in the corner of the room.
James sighs, and runs his hands through his hair, scrubbing against his scalp with his nails. "We all need a drink," he hisses, standing. "I'll go grab some. And for the record, even if she isn't… Fuck. I have a pretty strong suspicion that I might be hers." He grabs his discarded boxers from the foot of the bed, and stalks out of the room.
"Seb?" Clarke whispers.
Seb shrugs. "Dunno," he murmurs quietly. "Never met an omega like her before. Can't imagine being with anyone else apart from her and you lot, and I haven't even… y'know. How fucked up is that?" He closes his eyes and sinks back into the headboard.
… but who supports you?Her question keeps running through my head. It's pulling me towards her with a little tug every time.
