8. Breakfast & Bargains

EIGHT

brEAKFAST & BARGAINS

After the third day of lounging around 4 St Irving Way, Oliver was more than ready to return to the solitude of his little flat. Sitting down so much had caused an irritating ache in his lower back, and he longed to sleep by himself. He loved his brother, loved his cooking even more, but hated his irritating impulse to check up on him.

More than once, Oliver had subtly tried to suggest that perhaps the house simply wasn’t big enough for three grown men. In response, Matteus pouted and started looking on YouMove for five bedroom homes. Extended family units were not uncommon amongst packs, but it simply wasn’t Oliver’s thing. Nor, Oliver suspected, would it have been his brother’s thing either, were it not for his raging hormones.

“I think it’s the pregnancy,” Julian whispered, as he and Oliver stood at the bottom of the garden pretending to water the plants.

“Pregnancy hormones or not, I’m starting to worry he’s going to lock me in the loft and feed me cottage pie until I die.” He glanced back at his brother, who was bustling around the kitchen in the throes of baking sourdough.

“I’ll speak to him,” Julian replied, handing Oliver the watering can before padding back down the garden path.

Sighing, Oliver checked his phone and saw a string of well wishes from his colleagues in the Child Protection Unit. Then his eyes trailed to Lucas’ contact details, his thumb hovering over the name as he thought about the last time he’d seen the alpha’s face. Despite the revelation of becoming an uncle, and surviving Matteus’ strict get-well-soon regimen, he’d thought about Lucas more times than he’d liked to admit. Mostly at night, when the silence made it more difficult to ignore the tug and pull in his chest. Biting the inside of his cheek, he clicked on the name and typed out three simple words.

‘Are you alright?’

His phone pinged almost immediately. ‘Who is this?’

Idiot. Oliver had saved Lucas’ personal number but never actually messaged him. All their contact had been through email or work phones. Messaging through his personal phone felt oddly forbidden. Then his phone started ringing, Lucas’ name filling the screen. He yelped and thought about tossing it into the watering can, but his treacherous thumb pressed ‘answer’ before he had time to send the device to its watery grave.

“H-Hello?”

Lucas took a breath, then there was a sound of shifting and creaking, as though he had just taken a seat. “Oliver,” he said, his name sounding pained as it left the alpha’s mouth.

Oliver clenched his jaw and looked at his feet. He had well and truly saturated the potted plant, causing water to pool around his sliders. Oliver’s nose crinkled as a small, sad smile curved his lips.

“No, sorry. This is Reed,” he replied, pinching the bridge of his still-bruised nose.

Lucas chuckled, but not in his usual teasing way. “Reed,” he replied, elongating the ‘e’ making it sound more like a sigh. They remained silent for a few moments, as if just knowing the other was there was enough.

“Okay, well, good talking to you,” Oliver said, his bottom lip beginning to quiver.

“Yeah,” Lucas replied, without hanging up. He could hear the alpha breathing low and slow down the other end of the phone, then inhaling as though he were about to speak.

Oliver hung up then. Because he was a coward, and because he didn’t trust the words that gathered on the tip of his tongue. I’m sorry. Are you okay? I miss you. Shit, he was diabolically weak.

Matteus’ eyes were wide and watery when he and Julian dropped Oliver off at his apartment the following evening. Julian had to pry Oliver’s bag out of his brother’s hands when they finally reached his front door.

“Dude, pull yourself together,” Oliver said, ruffling his brother’s hair.

Matteus let out a half-sob as he handed him two large glass trays containing yet more cottage pie. “Put them in your freezer,” he said. “I don’t want you going hungry.”

Oliver tutted and jostled his shoulder. “I’m going to turn into cottage pie at this rate.”

“At least a cottage pie doesn’t talk back.” He pulled Oliver into a hug. “Call me tomorrow.”

“Okay, mum.” Oliver rolled his eyes. “I’m joking. Please don’t tell mum.”

And with that, he was wonderfully, gloriously alone again. Rifling through his kitchen cupboards, he found half a pack of chocolate digestives and an absolutely enormous spider. Slamming the door shut on the arachnid, he made himself a cup of Earl Grey and finished the rest of the biscuits. He had long since come to terms with the fact that he was a comfort eater, and boy , had he consumed his weight in biscuits over the last few days.

His legs ached and his joints cracked and popped from lack of use. There was nothing else for it. Exercise would help calm his restlessness, lest he transform into a custard cream. Guiltily eyeing his kickboxing pads, he went back to his bedroom and changed into a red t-shirt and black shorts. Although the bruising around his nose had faded significantly, he had no desire to injure his face any further. So, reluctantly, he taped the little splint across the bridge of his nose. It looked ridiculous, and like he had just had a nose job. He didn’t have to go crazy at the club, just run through some simple pad drills to keep his mind and body sharp, and work out the irritating ache in his lower back.

Duffle bag and water bottle in hand, he rounded the corner onto the canal towpath, just as thoughts of the six foot five alpha hit him like a freight train. Was Lucas on an early, or a late shift that evening? Changing teams and having a few days off had totally confounded his sense of time, and his brain did not have the energy to make the mental calculations. Slowing to a dawdle, he tapped his chin and tried to work out what day of the week it was, just as a young couple passed by. They stared at him as though he were having some kind of mental health crisis. Ah, fuck it. It’ll be fine.

It was most assuredly not fine , because the moment he walked through the double doors into the dingy warehouse, there stood said six five sexy mafia boss in all his long-legged glory. Lucas’ head snapped up as soon as Oliver stepped over the threshold, drawing his concentration away from his sparring partner.

“Oh, shit! Sorry!” His beta partner said, as she landed a punch across the side of his jaw. Lucas gave her a small nod, waving it away.

He lurched forward, as though he were about to sprint across the matts, but stopped abruptly when Rhys called out.

“Oi, Ollie! Fuckin’ hell, pal. What the hell have you been doin’?” Rhys said, jogging over to slap Oliver’s back. Oliver mumbled something about a traffic light and a low-flying pigeon as he slipped out of the beta’s grasp. Fuck , he really needed to up his dishonesty game—except that was probably a poor trait for a police officer.

Lucas uttered something to his sparring partner, the deep, rolling sound of his voice travelling across the matts and making Oliver’s neck hairs stand on end. He watched as the alpha pulled off his pads, grabbed a water bottle and slipped out the side door. Oliver knew he wasn’t leaving, because the door led to a little courtyard with no other way in or out.

Rhys prattled on as Oliver filled his own bottle at the water fountain. “So, just take it easy tonight, yeah? No sparring, just pad-work.” Oliver nodded, pulling on his gloves. He’d expected Lucas to reappear after a few moments, but twenty minutes passed and the alpha had still not returned. Perhaps he’d jumped the twelve-foot fence that led to the back of the rail line. He probably could, with arms like those.

There was nothing else for it. Oliver was going to have to act his fucking age, and confront the problem head-on. So, giving his excuses to Rhys, he headed into the courtyard and found the ‘problem’ sitting atop a lop-sided bench, bottle of water still clutched between his fingers. Lucas looked up, then stood, and Oliver thought for one humiliating moment that he was going to walk straight past him and back into the building. Instead, the alpha swallowed as his hazel eyes flitted across Oliver’s still- bruised face. They lingered over his freckles, and on the greenish tint circling both his under-eyes.

“Hi,” Oliver said, trying to muster a small smile.

“Hello,” Lucas replied, taking a step towards him as though testing the waters.

When Oliver didn’t move, he strode across the remainder of the courtyard and pulled Oliver into a tight embrace. “Reed,” he whispered, pressing his nose into his hair.

Oliver tipped his head up to rest his chin on Lucas’ shoulder. “White,” he said, inhaling the heady scent of the alpha’s sweat soaked skin. They stayed like that for several moments, eventually separating when Lucas leaned back to brush his thumbs across Oliver’s bruised cheeks.

“Do you like my new accessory?” Oliver said, pulling out of the embrace to lightly tap the nose splint. Lucas frowned and gestured for Oliver to join him on the bench. They sat knee-to-knee as the final few rays of sunlight trickled into the little courtyard.

“Are you alright?” Lucas asked, glancing at the nose splint again.

Oliver shook his head. “You first, you never answered my question the other morning.”

Lucas gave a small smile. “You didn’t give me chance.”

Crossing an ankle over his knee, Oliver waved the comment away. “Yes, well. It sounded like you were about to say something stupid.”

“Have you ever known me to say stupid things, Reed?”

“No, but you say a lot of embarrassing things.”

Lucas smirked, the tip of his tongue creeping out to touch the corner of his mouth. “Embarrassing for whom?”

“For me!” Oliver replied, tapping Lucas’ thigh with his knuckle.

The alpha’s canine grazed his lower lip as he looked contemplative. “I could say a lot of things you’d find embarrassing. But, in answer to your question, yes. I’m fine. I’m just sorry you had to see that, to see… me. Losing control like that. And I’m sorry I didn’t reach you sooner.”

Oliver shifted, trying desperately to think of a way to explain that the alpha was not the issue. “Lucas…” he whispered, pressing their shoulders together. “I don’t… I don’t know what I saw. It’s not something I’m familiar with. But my brother-in-law told me a little about what might have happened. And I just want you to know that I’m sorry. If I was in any way the cause. I’ve been irresponsible… to say the least, and I put you in a difficult position.”

Lucas frowned and shook his head. “Reed, let me make one thing absolutely clear. What happened during the warrant—that was on me. It happened because I couldn’t keep my emotions in check.”

Oliver opened his mouth to speak, but Lucas gripped his chin and silenced him with a hard, close-mouthed kiss. Lucas’ lips lingered for a moment, the damp warmth making Oliver’s heart hammer against his sternum. “And if it is still, in any way, unclear,” he whispered against his mouth. “You were most certainly the cause. Not because you were irresponsible, but because you are you.”

“W-Well,” Oliver stuttered, glancing down at their hands that had somehow become intertwined. “In that case, I’m terribly sorry for being me.” He swallowed, trying to reconcile the turmoil of emotions that were fizzing in his chest.

“Never apologise for that,” Lucas replied, the pads of his fingers tracing Oliver’s jaw.

His thumb tipped his head up, as though he were about to kiss him again, but Oliver gave a soft whimper and pulled away. “I can’t do this, Lucas. I can’t… I’m not… Jesus Christ, how can I put this…”

A low rumble emanated deep from within Lucas’ chest, and he turned Oliver’s hand over, cupping it in his own. “Four years ago,” he said, tracing a circle across his palm. “Something happened involving my best friend Joshua. He was a beta and my first ever friend when we came to the UK. We went to school together, joined the Met together. I was the best man at his wedding. But in 2020 there was an incident on a train in Barcelona, and I… lost him.”

Oliver glanced down at their hands, waiting for him to continue.

“Since then,” Lucas said, eyebrows pinching together. “I haven’t felt much of anything. I threw myself into work, taking on all the jobs and working all the hours I could get my hands on. Before I knew it, I stopped socialising, stopped doing anything that wasn’t work, and stopped caring about other people that weren’t Aliya or my parents. But then—” He chuckled and shook his head. “But then this five foot nine, foul-mouthed, tempest of a man crossed my path at High Enfield Crown Court. And it was like my heart started beating again.”

Oliver let out a breath, the tension in his chest almost overwhelming. Lucas brushed a strand of hair away from his forehead. “So DC Reed, perhaps you might start to understand why I got a little worked up when that fucking idiot attacked you.”

Oliver nodded and licked his rapidly drying lips. “Lucas…” he whispered. “I-I don’t know what this thing between us is. But what I do know is that you deserve so much better. You deserve the fucking world, actually, and all the happiness it has to offer. Surely you know that I can never give you a family, o-or a stable fucking relationship for that matter.”

Because if Sociosexual Essentialists would have the population believe anything—it was that sigma’s held no real value in society.

“Reed,” Lucas said, the tips of their noses touching. “Did someone tell you you’re unworthy, or hurt you in some way?”

Oliver’s eyes widened, his mouth going drier than the fucking desert. “I?—”

Because, yes, yes someone had told him that six years ago. Someone had damaged him so badly that he thought he’d never recover. But he’d be damned if he was being made to explain that particular seat of depression to anyone other than his family, and the man he saw looking back in the mirror.

He was about to stand, to walk out of the courtyard and never look back. That was until Lucas gripped his elbow and said,“Because they’re wrong. So painfully wrong.”

A forceful expulsion of air left Oliver’s nostrils, the resulting noise somewhere between a grunt and a laugh. He wasn’t mocking alpha, far from it. The comment had just been so fucking unexpected that his body didn’t know how to react. He crumpled in the alpha’s arms, then.

“There you go, saying embarrassing things,” he said. But Lucas just smiled and squeezed his hand. “Can we… can we please just be friends, Lucas? I can’t do this.”

The alpha let out a soft hum. “Is this your way of telling me to back off?”

Oliver sighed, softly rubbing his reddening face against the alpha’s sweat damp t-shirt. “I want to be a part of your life. And I do actually fancy the pants off you, in case that wasn’t painfully fucking obvious. I just can’t reconcile those two things. So, do you think we could be friends? A-And colleagues, obviously.”

The alpha looked down at their still-entwined fingers, and Oliver thought for one horrible moment that he was going to take rejection badly. However, he was surprised when a wry smile pinched Lucas’ lips. “You know, Reed, I think we could be the best of friends.”

Oliver let out a laugh and slapped Lucas’ shoulder. “I mean it! No funny business.”

“None?”

“No! We don’t want a repeat of the other day.”

“Which part?”

“The part where you nearly ripped the guy’s head off. Obviously.”

Lucas smirked. “Oh, that part. I was thinking of the other part. The part where we?—”

“You filthy fucking animal,” Oliver scoffed, getting to his feet. “Come on, before Rhys sends out a search party.”

The following week came and went without incident, but also without any positive leads for the investigation. The team rigorously interviewed the suspects from the car dealership, all of whom had doubled down and answered ‘no comment’ to all their questions. It was to be expected, and in reality their mobile phones and computer systems would be the crucial inquiry, not the faceless lackeys running the menial day to day tasks.

Oliver found that he began to sleep a little better after clearing the air with Lucas. He went back to the kickboxing club without worrying about the two of them crossing paths. They joked and laughed whilst they sparred, sat on the bench and drank water together, even went for a jog along the canal towpath one afternoon. And Oliver was beginning to understand why some people liked to socialise outside of work, because despite the unanswered layer of tension, it was kind of nice. He could handle that, and so could the alpha. Just so long as he kept taking the suppressants every morning.

Despite life slowly returning to some form of ‘normal,’ he still cursed his alarm when it buzzed at six thirty every morning, and he still nearly poured orange juice over his cereal instead of milk. The aching in his lower back also persisted, as did the unnatural tugging sensation in his chest. Perhaps he was just getting old. Or he had stage five heart disease.

As he stepped into West Newton Police Station that morning, he found himself in a far better mood than he had been in at the start of the week. However, what he hadn’t expected was to receive a phone call from the receptionist as soon as he sat down at his desk.

“Oliver,” the clerk said. “You have a visitor in reception.”

“A visitor? Who is it?”

He could practically hear her roll her eyes down the phone. “Dunno, mate. A guy returning your jacket.”

Oliver sighed as he remembered the timid omega from The Cock and Bull. “I’ll be right down.”

Pember’s eyes widened as Oliver pushed open the door to the little waiting room. It was surprisingly busy that morning, but Pember made himself easy to find as he jumped to his feet. His green eyes shone with vivid determination amongst a mop of dark hair, and Oliver supposed he was quite pretty.

“Oh! Oh my God!” Pember said, hopping from foot to foot. “I had no idea you were actually a police officer. I just assumed you suggested the station as a safe place to leave your coat. I was surprised when they said they’d call you. And?—”

Oliver gave the omega a small grin before ushering him outside, away from listening ears. “Hello, Pember,” he said, hooking a thumb in the pocket of his navy blue slacks. “Good to see you again.”

“H-Hi, Oliver. Or, should I say, DC Reed? I’m so sorry, I had no idea.”

He chuckled. “Oliver is fine. How’re you doing, Pember?”

“Oh, I’m fine! All good, thanks to you! I’m so sorry if those guys caused you trouble.”

Oliver held up a hand. “Don’t worry about it, honestly.”

Pember nodded rapidly, his hair falling into his eyes. “Here’s your coat, Oliver. I washed it after… you know.”

“Cheers.” Oliver took the jacket and hooked it over his arm.

“Can I… can I take you for a coffee? Or tea, or a cold drink or whatever it is police officers drink? Just to, you know, say thank you.”

Glancing at his watch, Oliver nodded when he saw it was only twenty past eight, and he had not yet had his morning coffee. Luckily for them, there was a public access canteen only a hundred or so feet away. Its beige prefab walls and barred windows made it look like an extension of the custody block, but inside it was surprisingly pleasant. Plus, it sold some cracking blueberry muffins.

“Sure,” Oliver replied, flipping the jacket over his shoulder and gesturing for Pember to follow.

Waiting in line, they made small talk about mundane things such as the weather and the rising price of car insurance. Oliver ordered a flat white and a blueberry muffin. Pember asked for a cappuccino and a chocolate croissant. Without thinking, Oliver tapped his phone against the card reader.

“Oh. I was treating you ,” Pember said, brows pinching together.

Oliver shrugged, picking up the tray and carrying it over to a vacant table. “Sorry. Force of habit, I guess.”

“Well, then you’ll have to let me get the next one.” And Oliver did not miss the connotation of that comment. “So, what happened to your face?” Pember asked, taking a sip of coffee as he looked at Oliver over the rim of his cup. “I know you said it's healed, but I can still see a bruise under your eye. W-Wait, you don’t have to tell me. It’s probably top secret or something.”

Oliver laughed at that, because the search warrant at the car dealership had made the local news. Much to the displeasure of Lucas and the Inspector. Shrugging, he said, “It’s not very exciting. Someone’s head made contact with my face. Multiple times, which was rather unfortunate.” It was clear that Pember couldn’t decide whether to laugh or be horrified. “But what about you? Are you okay after what happened at the Cock and Bull?”

Pember nodded as a deep blush spread up his neck. “I’m good. Thank you for asking. The truth is, I didn’t even want to go that night. My mum forced me to go out with some other omegas. She’s desperate for me to meet someone and settle down. Won’t stop going on about grandkids.”

Oliver nodded. It was an unfortunate—and persistent—expectation of the older generation. “But you’re not ready.” He replied.

“No! No, I’m really not. I mean, I just finished my degree in biochemistry and mathematics. Does she seriously think I want to throw all that away just to pop out a baby?”

“Wowsers,” Oliver said, sitting back in his chair. “Biochemistry and mathematics? I didn’t realise I was having coffee with a certified genius.”

Pember blushed. “W-Well, not a genius, but I worked my arse off to get through the programme. But don’t get me wrong, I want to meet someone. That’s the thing. I want to meet someone, fall in love and enjoy life. Not start a family. In fact, I’m not sure I even want kids. I want to build space rockets, for God’s sake!” Oliver bit the inside of his cheek as he struggled not to smile at Pember’s childish wonder. “But nobody wants that,” he continued. “All anybody ever wants from an omega is to get laid and reproduce. I just don’t want that. Is that weird?”

Oliver must have only been a few years older than Pember, but as he put down his drink and leant across the table, he felt like a wizened old mentor about to give a starry-eyed student a pep talk. He also felt like a fucking fraud.

“Pember,” he began. “You are more than your secondary sex. Hell, you are more than your primary sex. You are an intelligent young man that will have no problem finding love when the time is right.”

The omega’s eyes brightened at that, and Oliver worried he’d given the boy the wrong impression. Or, he would have been worried were it not for Pember’s wide-eyed gaze suddenly shifting upwards. It was apparent from the shadow cast across the table that there was someone very tall, and very broad standing behind Oliver, and he needn’t have turned around to know who it was.

“Reed,” Lucas said, voice so low it made Oliver shiver.

Ignoring the reaction he tipped his head back and looked up at the alpha. “DS White, what a pleasant surprise.”

“We have a briefing in ten minutes.” Lucas’ eyes flitted to the coffee cups and half eaten pastries.

Oliver turned his gaze back to Pember, who appeared temporarily stunned. He couldn’t blame him. Lucas was looking dapper as hell that morning, in a grey waist-coat ensemble and black trench coat. He’d pulled his hair back again, which absolutely did not make Oliver want to climb him like a fucking tree.

“Sorry, duty calls,” he said, swallowing as he got to his feet.

Pember slowly nodded and shoved the last piece of chocolate croissant into his mouth. “My number. It’s in the coat pocket,” he said, cheeks puffed out. “Call me. If you ever want another coffee.”

Lucas’ nostrils flared at the blatant proposition, and Oliver had to nod politely and quickly grab the alpha’s arm to turn him away. He was still bristling as they walked across the car park.

“So…” Oliver began. “Is there actually a briefing in ten minutes, or are you just jealous that I was having breakfast with someone else?”

Lucas looked down at him, eyes dark but with a playful edge. “Can’t it be both?” He said, fingers brushing over the curve of Oliver’s back as they began their ascent through the station.

Oliver swallowed. Hard. “We probably shouldn’t walk in together. Otherwise the Inspector might get the wrong idea.”

“And what idea might that be, Reed?”

Oliver nibbled his lip before letting out an exasperated laugh. “You aren’t going to make this easy, are you?” Lucas only grinned as he held open the door to the briefing room.