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There was an awkward moment as they all stared at each other. “Oh, my God, sorry, come in,” Josh stuttered.
Leo shrugged easily, shuffling into the apartment. “Shoes off?”
“Uhm,” Josh glanced at Damon. “Yeah, please. Do you want a drink or something? We have, like, a lot of tea. And juice. And stuff to make smoothies. And we have food if you’re hungry?”
“Would love a glass of water. Thanks.” It always set the hosts at ease to accept a drink, even if Leo would leave it untouched.
Damon put one of his big hands on Josh’s shoulder, tilting his head down so his dark hair swept over his forehead. “I’ll get it.”
Josh smiled at him, and Leo watched the small moment of connection between the couple, something easing inside him. Josh definitely looked…unwell. Sunken cheeks, brown, messy hair limp, clothes hanging off him—but it didn’t necessarily mean Damon was to blame.
God, if this was a make-a-wish situation, Leo was out. No matter how fucking good the two of them smelt—how good the combination of their scents was, filling the whole house richly, even though the Alpha’s scent was clearly stronger.
Josh wrung his hands together, guiding Leo into the living room. Leo sat in the stuffed chair, sensing that a bit of distance between himself and the couple wasn’t a bad thing right now.
Damon returned with the promised glass of water, and Leo took it with a “Thanks,” pretending to take a sip. Not that he thought he was going to be drugged, but he wasn’t taking any chances.
Damon sat beside Josh on the couch, taking his hand and giving him a small smile. The look seemed to calm Josh down, his shoulders slumping slightly.
Leo placed his drink on the table and leaned back, body language open and easy. “Nice apartment you’ve got here. Greenpoint nice?” he asked even though he’d been there plenty.
Josh straightened. “Oh, thanks. Yeah, we really like it.”
“How long have you guys been here?”
“Uhm…” Josh looked at Damon. “Since we mated, so…like three years now. Wow, damn. Has it been that long?”
“You don’t remember how long we’ve been mated?” Damon teased.
Josh rolled his eyes. “Shut up, like I could forget. The ceremony was big enough.” He turned to Leo. “Overbearing parents. Mine, not his.”
“They’re fine. They just…like to be involved,” Damon said diplomatically.
“Over-involved. Anyway, sorry. Uhm. Fuck, sorry, this is our first time doing this.”
Leo waved him off. “First time for everything, right? You guys are cute together.” Leo winked, laying it on a little thick. Sometimes it was good to just fit a role, to seem familiar—it put the clients at ease, gave them a script to read off.
“Thanks.” Josh laughed. “We like to think so. Obviously, I do most of the heavy lifting when it comes to bringing the cuteness into this relationship, but Damon tries.”
Damon snorted incredulously but didn’t say anything, looking at Leo steadily, clearly still not at ease.
“I dunno,” Leo drawled, “he seems like the romantic type.”
Josh poked his tongue out at Damon cheekily. “Damn, you’ve got him pegged.”
Leo didn’t react to the word ‘pegged’, for which he deserved an award. “So, you’ve never done this before. Wanna tell me a little bit about what you’re looking for?”
Immediately, the couple sobered as if Leo had asked them how much debt they had or something. Josh cleared his throat, taking the lead. “So, uhm. This is probably unusual…I mean, I actually don’t know what’s usual in your line of work, but…”
“You’d be surprised, but go on.”
“Uhm, so. I, uhm. I have a condition. It’s called hyperhitastia. I don’t know if you’ve ever heard of it?”
Leo frowned, shaking his head and sitting up a little.
“So my body, like, the hormones that regulate heats, they’re totally out of whack. I get a heat every two weeks, and they’re…intense. I can’t, uhm…sorry, you’d think I’d be used to talking about this by now, what with all the doctors’ appointments.”
“Hey, it’s cool. Take your time. I mean, even what you’ve just said sounds rough as hell. Twice a month? Shit.” Usually, Omegas had a heat once every two months, and a lot of people took suppressants to make it even less.
