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25. White Day

TWENTY-FIVE

WHITE DAY

“What is that ?” Oliver said, staring at the black Aston Martin parked next to the Yellow Peril.

“My car,” Lucas replied.

Walking a slow circle around the vehicle, he frowned. “What happened to the green one?”

Lucas chuckled, slipping the duffle bag off Oliver’s shoulder once he’d finished the appraisal. “I had to return it. I wasn’t lying when I said it’s a police vehicle.”

“Oh. But I liked the green one. This one’s… different.”

Lucas grinned as he loaded the bag into the boot. “Yes. But it’s mine. Should we take your car down to London instead?”

Oliver shuddered at the thought of Yolanda taking the three and a half hour drive to the city. She’d overheat, not to mention the lingering sick smell from when they’d rescued Pember. God, she deserved a medal. Poor girl.

“N-No. I guess this’ll be fine. But you really make me feel poor, you know?”

Lucas smirked, sticking out the tip of his tongue. “Wait until you meet my parents.”

Oliver recounted the day’s revelations to the alpha, before promptly falling asleep somewhere between Sheffield and Nottingham. He only woke when he felt a gentle tickling sensation under his ear.

“W-Wha?” He mumbled, wiping saliva off his chin.

Lucas gave him a soft smile. “I said we’re here.”

“Oh. Oh shit, was I asleep that whole time?”

Lucas nodded, rubbing the pad of his thumb across Oliver’s cheek. “You were talking in your sleep a lot. Something about pussy pumps and knot crushers. I thought about waking you up, but you look knackered.”

Oliver grimaced. He felt like he’d run a marathon. Whilst hungover. In ill-fitting wellington boots.

“Shit. Sorry. I must be more tired than I realised.”

And then they were standing in the lift to Lucas’ apartment. The high rise building was in far better shape than Oliver’s block of flats. The communal hallways were extremely tidy for one thing, and the tenants had little hanging baskets outside their front doors.

“I feel like I’ve stepped into the twilight zone,” Oliver said, eyeing a stone lion as it sat proudly on someone’s doorstep. “Where everyone actually cares about what their neighbours think, and people have time to spend on the upkeep of their front doors.”

Lucas nodded as he tapped an electronic card to a digital pad next to his own door. Number two hundred and twenty-six. “You’re not wrong,” he said, pushing the door handle. “You’ll find yourself with a fine if the maintenance company thinks you’re dropping below a certain standard. I left a pair of muddy walking boots outside the door once, only to be hit with a one hundred and twenty pound bill.”

Oliver’s mouth hung open. “That’s outrageous.”

“I agree.”

Lucas’ apartment was not unlike Oliver’s—clean, minimal, no clutter in the communal rooms. Except where Olivers’ kitchen had chipboard worktops, Lucas’ had granite. And where Oliver had a tiny white fridge that sounded like a space rocket, Lucas had a sleek American fridge freezer packed to the brim with ingredients Oliver didn’t even recognise. Not to mention the ice machine. Or the friendly robotic voice that alerted you every time the temperature rose above three degrees.

“Can this thing calculate my overtime?” He asked, drinking from a glass of water he’d just poured from the fridge door. A true novelty.

Lucas shrugged as he slid the glass from between his fingers, took a sip, and placed it down on the countertop. “I’m sure there’s a setting for that,” he said, wrapping his hands around Oliver’s waist and pulling him against his body.

Oliver sighed as the stress of the day poured away at the sound of Lucas’ steadily beating heart. The alpha had given him zero time between knocking on his front door and ushering him into the car. Which was probably wise, because in the three and a half hours Oliver awaited his arrival, he’d contemplated backing out multiple times. Lucas grunted as he held him tighter, breath hot in his hair. And then his hands were sliding all over Oliver’s top half, not groping, just… touching.

“Excuse me,” Oliver said, pulling his head away from the alpha’s chest. “Why do I feel like you’re frisking me? Are you worried I’ve stolen something?”

Lucas only grunted again as he lifted Oliver off his feet and carried him into the darkened bedroom. Placing him on the massive bed, he stripped them both out of their clothes without a word. Then Lucas shifted into wolf form, the bed creaking and dipping as the alpha’s massive canine weight pressed down on the mattress. If Oliver felt small in the Lucas’ embrace before, he felt fucking minuscule then.

He was about to shift into his sandy wolf form when Lucas started running his cold nose over every inch of his body. Oliver squirmed. It didn’t feel sexual, and it wasn’t quite the same slow process as scent marking. But by the time Lucas shifted back and their faces drew level again, he looked utterly confused.

“If you’re trying to get me in the mood, you needn’t be so heavy-handed,” Oliver said, running his fingers across Lucas’ shoulders.

The alpha only nuzzled into his neck, shoving them both up the bed until Oliver’s head patted against the pillows. “You smell different,” he said. “I thought so in the car, but—” Dipping his head again, he ran his mouth over the mating mark. Oliver shivered from the top of his head to the tips of his toes.

“W-Well, it’s not surprising,” he panted, as a deep flush crept up his chest. “I’ve been squirrelled away in the police station for three days. Plus, I stayed at Matty’s last night.”

“It’s not that,” Lucas huffed, turning him over again. Curling his forearm around Oliver’s body, he pressed his tongue into every divot of his spine. “It’s sweeter. I can’t explain it.” Oliver let out a soft laugh as Lucas’ nose nudged the two dimples nestled in the curve of his lower back.

“Well, I won’t lie—I’ve consumed my body weight in cake since you left. Matty’s been trying out his new airfryer and—Oh.” He shuddered as Lucas’ mouth pressed into his crease. “A-And y-you wouldn’t believe how many—Ah.” The alpha’s tongue swept over his hole with long, hot strokes. His lips kissed and caressed the delicate skin of his undercarriage, before moving to the backs of his thighs. It drew out a sultry sound from deep within Oliver’s throat. “T-The cupcakes were?—”

“Reed, are you still talking about the airfryer?” Lucas murmured, flipping them over so Oliver was straddling his hips. Oliver snorted, leaning down to press a string of small kisses across his chest.

“Yes. I was. But it seems you’re not interested in hearing about my culinary exploits.”

Lucas’ expression softened. “I’m more than happy for you to tell me all about how you and your brother nearly set fire to the kitchen.”

Oliver gasped, lurching forward to pin the alpha between his forearms. “How do you know about that?” He said, squashing their noses together.

Lucas smirked and ran his knuckles over Oliver’s ribs. “I’ll never reveal my source.”

Oliver’s mouth hung open as he pictured the only other person who had been present when he and Matteus nearly burnt down 4 Irving Way. “Julian,” he growled, dipping his head to nip the bite mark on Lucas’ neck. It sent a tremor of pleasure through Oliver’s spine, making his whole body flush.

Lucas’ lips quirked up. “You were saying?”

“I was saying—” Oliver continued. “Julian's a drama queen, and there was barely a fire.” He huffed as he ran his mouth down the length of Lucas’ taut stomach, taking a moment to flick his tongue over the navel piercing. Lucas let out a sharp breath and pushed his fingers through Oliver’s messy hair.

“So says the man who thought he’d developed stress-induced Tourette’s.”

Oliver grinned as he mouthed the soft, dark curls above the alpha’s cock. “I’m telling you, it’s a thing,” he said, licking the tip of his rapidly growing arousal. “And besides, the strawberry buttercream was delicious.”

Lucas groaned as he took him in his mouth, kissing and sucking the engorged head. Oliver smirked around the alpha’s cock, before running the tip of his tongue along the weeping slit. “Did you miss me?” He whispered.

Tracing a thumb around Oliver’s ear, Lucas let out a breathy laugh. “More than you could ever know.”

Lucas was still curled around him as the post-sex haze began to lift. Oliver counted the spotlights as he stared up at the ceiling, listening to the alpha’s steady breathing. Suddenly, two little yellow eyes blinked down at him. Oliver blinked back, convinced he was having some kind of lucid dream. But then the eyes blinked again, drawing his attention to the furry little face staring at him with a baleful expression.

A brown tortoise-shell cat sat on top of the headboard, with a long, pointed snaggle-tooth protruding from its lower jaw. It suddenly yowled so loudly that Oliver practically launched himself out of bed. “L-Lucas,” he said, slapping the alpha’s back. “Lucas, there’s a stray cat in the room,”

Lucas looked up, his eyes half-glazed with sleep. He frowned, then reached up to tickle the cat’s chin. “It’s Sasha.”

“Oh,” he replied, feeling extremely stupid. “I thought she was at your sister’s.”

Lucas chuckled and gently tugged Sasha onto the bed. He tickled her ears, and she bumped his chin with her head in return. “She was. But she wanted a holiday back at home.”

Oliver snorted and sat on the bed. “I see. So, her very first impression of me is whilst I’m being railed by her dad?”

Lucas barked out a laugh, sending Sasha skittering under the bed. “Give her the cat-grass next time you’re here. I’m sure she’ll forgive you.”

“Fucking hell,” Oliver whispered as he stared up at the towering, Victorian mid-terrace house. His eyes were wide as they trailed along the pink wisteria winding its way around the windows. Except it wasn’t just any terrace house. It was a terrace house in the centre of High Garden, which probably retailed for well over five million pounds.

“Don’t be intimidated,” Lucas said, resting a hand on Oliver’s hip. “It’s quite homely inside.”

His eyes slid up to the alpha, head turning stiffly as though calling it ‘homely’ could detract from the sheer amount of wealth on display. “W-What should I say? Do I introduce myself?” Oliver said, the words tripping over themselves. “But I guess it’s pretty fucking obvious who I am. S-Should I shake their hands or is that too formal?—”

“Oliver.”

“What if they don’t like the gift? They’ve got a whole fucking ancient wisteria climbing up their house. What’re they gonna do with a fucking peace lily? Oh God, maybe I should just return it?—”

“ Oliver .”

Oliver bounced from foot to foot. “Wait, you have told them I’m coming, right? I know your pai asked if I like bell peppers, but do they know I’m coming today ? Shit. Fuck. Do they know about the bite? Do they know I gave you the bite? Do they know my parents are alphas? Oh my God, what if?—”

Lucas silenced his racing mouth with a kiss, before tugging at the neckline of his linen shirt. “Yes, they know about the bite. You can’t exactly miss it.” Something about that made Oliver flush. “But we should probably head inside, because in the fifteen minutes we’ve been standing out here, my parents have been watching us from the upstairs window.”

Lucas pointed to a tiny circular pane of glass towards the top of the house. Oliver’s face dropped as he saw two figures waving down at him.

“Fuck, they probably think I’m crazy.”

The door swung open as they wandered up the garden path, and Oliver gripped Lucas’ hand so tightly it was a miracle his knuckles didn’t pop.

“Filho!” a short, dark-skinned omega with long grey hair said from the top of the steps. He threw his hands wide and wrapped them around Lucas’ shoulders.

“Pai,” Lucas replied, bending to kiss the top of his head.

A slightly taller omega with short, salt and pepper hair and thick-rimmed glasses hung in the doorway. He and Lucas shared a nod before they were swiftly shooed out the way.

“And you must be Oliver,” Lucas’ pai said, with a wide smile that lit up his face. He pulled Oliver into an embrace, who awkwardly held his arms out to the side as though he might break him.

“Davi!” Lucas’ other father said, gently tugging him away. “He might not like that.”

“Psh, don’t mind Colin. He’s just uptight and British,” Davi said, in a melodic Portuguese accent. “No offence.”

Colin, in return, leant forward and shook Oliver’s hand. “Nice to meet you,” he said. “I’m Dad.”

“Nice to meet you,” Oliver replied, summoning all the confidence he could muster.

Oliver’s nerves almost got the better of him as they were led inside, but he had to agree that the house was homely, in an immaculate—clearly has a full time cleaner—kind of way. Bright floral prints covered the walls, seconded only by the sheer number of photographs covering almost every square inch. As Oliver walked past, he clocked one in a wooden frame with what appeared to be Lucas and Aliya as teenagers. Lucas was holding up a medal, whilst Aliya gave the thumbs up. Both were—to Oliver’s utter surprise—very skinny youths.

“Oliver! Luca!” Davi called, drawing them both towards the kitchen. And Oliver quite liked the way Davi pronounced his name. Like Olivaaa.

The scent of home cooking wafted through the hallway, something rich and meaty that made his mouth water. When they stepped into the room, Oliver’s jaw dropped. The kitchen was unlike anything he’d ever seen. Old Victorian cabinets, original stone tiles and solid oak worktops somehow blended seamlessly with the modern appliances. Some kind of fresco containing pink cheeked cherubs and white winged angels was sprawled across the high ceiling, with a swirling plaster rosette around a gold chandelier. It looked like the inside of a rather eccentric Victorian mansion.

Davi must have seen him looking, because he chuckled and wiggled his eyebrows at Colin. “My beloved painted this whole house,” he said, chin tipped up in a prideful expression.

“It’s amazing,” Oliver said, genuinely in awe at the artistry.

“Ah, my thanks,” Colin said, stepping in from the doorway to wrap an arm around Davi’s waist. “Lucas tells us you are… also… a detective?”

He gave a small nod. “Y-Yes. Child protection.”

Davi let out a contemplative hum. “It is very admirable. You must see some terrible things.”

Oliver sucked his bottom lip. “Yes.”

Awkward silence hung over the four of them, before Davi turned to Colin and slapped the back of his hand.

“I told you not to bring up their work!”

Lucas chuckled, bringing his fingers up to caress the back of Oliver’s neck. “Pai, why don’t you show Oliver the bar whilst I help dad chop the last of the wood.”

Colin clapped, releasing Davi’s waist. “Ah! An excellent idea, son. The store has become terribly depleted in your absence.”

And just like that, Oliver was being led towards a hut at the bottom of the garden by a Brazilian man in a flowery sweatshirt. He had to dip his head as he entered the hut, the doorway clearly having been designed for two much shorter people.

‘The bar’ was more like a large shed with a long mahogany plank running from end to end. There was a heavy curtain covering the back wall, which he assumed hid all the booze. If Oliver squinted, he could have almost convinced himself he was sitting inside a beach hut in Malaga. Davi dragged two stools—which were actually upturned barrels—from under the bar, and gestured for Oliver to sit.

“What would you like to drink, Oliver?”

Oliver glanced down at his hands. “O-Oh, water’s fine, thank you.”

Davi let out a laugh. “Oh no, filho. I mean, what would you like to drink ?”

With a small flourish, the omega yanked a drawstring, pulling back the curtains to reveal a truly astounding sight. Bottles upon bottles of different alcohol were stacked behind the home-made bar, the majority of the brands Oliver had never heard of. He gawped before glancing at his watch. Half past ten in the morning. If he could get behind anything, it was daytime drinking so, tapping his chin, he said, “W-Well, if you insist. Could I have… a lemon sherbet gin and tonic, please?”

Davi grinned. “And for dessert?”

Oliver licked his lip, getting the impression that day-drinking was serious business in the White household. “Um, a strawberry daiquiri, please.”

Davi squealed with delight, the deep wrinkles around his mouth disappearing as he looked momentarily young again. “And I’ll have a caipirinha with tequila for dessert,” Davi replied. “Cheers!”

Three hours later, all four of them were hunched over the mahogany bar. Davi was chatting enthusiastically about their life in Brazil, and about when Lucas and Aliya were born, nobody in the family could quite believe they had produced not just one, but two , alphas through IVF. Both of whom had grown up to be literal giants.

“I was the size of a house!” Davi proudly proclaimed as he poured Oliver another drink. “This one was sick of my whining by the end,” he said, jerking a thumb towards Colin, who was slumped over in his seat.

By the time three o’clock rolled around, Colin was completely sozzled, Davi was cheerfully tipsy, Lucas the same as always, and Oliver felt horribly, horribly unwell. He’d finished the gin and tonic with no issue, but after eating a small portion of farofa, he simply couldn’t face the strawberry daiquiri.

Colin’s head suddenly jerked up, cheek damp from where he’d half fallen asleep against the bar. “Rubies!” He cried, “We never collected the sodding rubies, Davi!”

“Ah merda!” Davi slapped the table, eyeing Colin, before turning to Lucas. “Luca, baby, please could you take dad to the shop? There’s a shipment of rubies we were meant to collect today, but the courier left them under the porch.”

And Oliver could not believe how casually Davi talked about having ‘a shipment of rubies,’ as though it were a fucking grocery delivery. Lucas nodded and glanced at Oliver.

“I-I’ll stay here, if that’s okay?” He was doing everything in his power to disguise the flipping sensation in his gut.

Davi cheered and threw an arm around Oliver’s neck. “Yes! Stay here with me. Let me show you Luca’s baby pictures.”

“Pai…” Lucas said, peeling his drunk father off the bar. “Perhaps save the embarrassing photographs for next time?”

The photographs were, in fact, quite embarrassing. “And here’s baby Luca at his first holy communion,” Davi said wistfully, handing Oliver another picture.

Oliver raised an eyebrow as he looked at the photograph. “Why is he naked?” He said, staring at a photograph of Lucas as a toddler, dressed in nothing but a white veil covering his head.

Davi laughed, “Oh! He went through a phase of refusing to wear clothes. You’ll see it’s a recurring theme over the next few albums.”

Oliver took a great deal of pleasure knowing he had a veritable treasure trove of blackmail material to use against Lucas in the future.

Just as they’d reached the 1998 album, Oliver’s phone rang. He was mildly confused when he looked at the screen and saw his GP surgery was calling him. On his work mobile? Making his apologies to Davi, he slipped out the room and ambled back down the garden path towards the bar.

“Hello?” He said, not quite closing the door behind him.

“Mr Reed? Oh thank goodness, it’s Dr Phillips from West Newton Medical Practice. We’ve been trying to reach you for over a week. Your number wasn’t connecting, so we had to go through your next of kin.”

“S-Sorry. Yes, how can I help?”

“Mr Reed, we recently had the paperwork back for your admission to Accident 3

I don’t think he liked it.

Oh :-/ Take him to dinner to say sorry.

Oliver has a cold. Can you send me the recipe for your special tea?

Here you go, baby!

[attachment]

Pai, I really like Oliver.

Tell him, filho!

Oliver got hurt. They won’t let me see him.

Why not?

I lost control.

Luca! :-(

Oliver said he just wants to be friends

Oh no! But it is his choice. You will be good friends.

Pai, I think Oliver has a boyfriend.

I’m sorry for you baby :-(

Not his boyfriend :-)

Definitely not his boyfriend :-D

Pai, I took Oliver on a date.

Hooray! How did it go?

I’m still at his house.

You Devil. Stop being so disgusting.

Sorry, filho. That was your sister.

Can you send me the recipe for Dad’s granola?

Here you go :-)

[attachment]

Oliver said it’s over, what should I do?

Dad said why is it over?

He thinks he’s cursed.

I’ll send you a number for a Brazilian exorcist. He’s the best in the business.

Oliver said he loves me :-)

Hooray! Dad said when can we meet him?

Pai, how can I tell Oliver I love him? Even if we never have children?

Like that, filho.

Pai, I want to ask Oliver to marry me.

When Oliver reached the end of the messages, he was crying so much he’d forgotten all about the pregnancy test. In fact, he’d forgotten about pretty much everything. With a deep, deep , breath, he picked up the stick and turned it over. His lip trembled when he looked at the result.

Two little pink lines. Pregnant .

He stared up at the ceiling as silent tears streamed down his face. It was joy, mixed with devastation, mixed with something altogether unfamiliar. Why was his life like that? Happiness tainted by sadness. Joy soured by anxiety. Couldn’t he just have one fucking thing to hold on to? One thing that was his own.

But then he thought of Matteus, and Julian. Nancy, Blake and Pember. And all the friends he had standing behind him. Then there was Lucas. An alpha, who had wanted him despite everything. Chosen him even when he shared some dark, dark things about his past. But Lucas had dark things in his life as well. They all did. Perhaps it was what made them human.

He didn’t hear the front door open, or Colin’s drunken laughter. All he heard was a soft knock on the bathroom door, and the gentle creak as it opened.

“Reed?” Lucas said, slipping his fingers in-between the gap.

Oliver could have hidden it. But he didn’t. Instead, he gripped the stick tightly in his hand and said, “Come in.”

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