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Jack and Rhys’ properties were separated by a waist high marble wall that split through the grass all the way down to the sidewalk. Hemmed on one side by Jack’s squat little hedges and on the other by Rhys’ brightly colored cacti, it proved a nice vantage point over which he could watch and sling small talk at Rhys whenever he ended up outside as the omega pulled into the driveway.
He timed this so it happened fairly often.
Jack liked to keep a close eye on Rhys. There used to be an alpha that came and went alongside Rhys. Bastard had driven a pretty nice car—Dodge Challenger, a sleekly remodeled classic that’d hummed like a kitten every time he’d pulled up to Rhys’ curb. An alpha like that, with a healthy interest in vintage autos, could’ve easily been a friend, but considering he’d disappeared right around the time Jack had first noticed Rhys’ smelling of pregnancy—yeah. Jack didn’t want to hang out with anyone who’d dump such a cute little thing over something that should be a blessing for any serious couple.
If that was what’d really happened. Jack liked to imagine what had gone on between Rhys and his ex. Maybe the omega had killed him and buried him in the backyard, sold his car off to start a college fund for his baby. It wouldn’t exactly be out of nature for him, Jack thought.
See, Rhys was one of those go-it-alone, do-it-yourself kind of omegas, something that Jack could respect well enough. It was more attractive than someone who just wanted to lay the day away doing nothing and getting fat on someone else’s paycheck, but, well.
A little bit of vulnerability wouldn’t kill the kid. Rhys could at least try to act a little fragile until Jack had wormed his way into his good graces. Then he could go back to being an independent little hard-ass with a career on one arm, a baby on the other, and a mate somewhere in between.
Jack mostly blamed the pregnancy for his sudden resurgence of Rhys-related affection. Sure, he’d had a bit of a crush ever since the eye-catching omega had first moved into the house next door, but he’d only seriously started snooping when Rhys had gotten pregnant. He chalked it mostly up to instinct—Rhys was with pup, unbounded and alone in a big house, and even as far removed as they were from the wild, being shacked up in upscale suburbia and all, Jack couldn’t deny the needly urge to protect whenever he spied Rhys entering or exiting his house, or managed to strike up a conversation with him.
It didn’t help the alpha’s attraction that Rhys wore pregnancy pretty damn well either.
In fact, a particular pleasure of Jack’s was watching the evolution of Rhys’ clothing over the past couple months. Before he’d gotten pregnant, Rhys had enjoyed a wardrobe of sleek, fashionable clothing: straight-legged pants with a perfect crease, dress shirts neatly tucked into a cinched waistband, blazers darted in around the waist to complement his slight omega curves.
Rhys, to his credit, still retained as much of his style as he could given the changes his body was going through, but Jack had still started to notice an upset in the usual fashion rotation. The kid was still pretty early in his pregnancy, but within the past week or he’d definitely been showing more. Opting out of the belts and dress pants for roomier slacks and shorts. Jack had even caught him in a pair of striped blue sweatpants one morning earlier in the week, going out to check the mailbox as Jack had enjoyed his coffee from the big window opening his breakfast nook out to the front yard.
The dress shirts had remained a mainstay, though Jack was interested to see for how long. Buttons could only handle so much strain, and one could only buy up in size for so long before their arms and shoulders were swimming in a shapeless tent. Sooner or later, Rhys was gonna have to revamp his wardrobe a little more intensively, and Jack wanted to be there when the big shift finally came.
Jack had stayed home from the office today—with no meetings on the schedule and the latest product line already on its way to retailers, there was a bit of a lull that he was enjoying to its fullest. All existing business could easily be done from the comfort of his own couch, so he’d spent the day alternating between answering e-mails and browsing figures to catching up on pre-recorded TV and pumping on his free weights whenever he let the commercials run.
The living room couch allowed him a pretty decent view of Rhys’ driveway. Around one o’clock he’d noticed the omega’s car leaving, making note to catch him on the way back. So when Rhys had finally returned, headlights winking in the coming twilight, Jack had slapped his laptop cover down and zoomed out the front door, making a beeline towards his customary flirting roost near that boundary between his and Rhys’ lawns.
“Enjoy your drive, pumpkin?” Jack called as Rhys waddled over from the driver’s seat towards the back of the car. Jack hadn’t gotten a good look at the omega earlier, but now he could see today’s outfit—a pretty casual combo of stretchy low rise jeans and a basic V-neck shirt that nevertheless looked pretty damn cute. The soft material of the shirt clung just enough to Rhys’ belly to remind the world he was getting more and more pregnant by the day, but not enough to deter Jack’s imagination.
The omega looked up as he clicked open the trunk, expression unsurprised as the alpha leered over the concrete wall.
“Hello, Jack.” Rhys sounded tired. Jack shuffled slightly to the left, to get a better view of the inside of Rhys’ trunk. It was packed with bags and one huge box, which probably wasn’t saying much considering how compact Rhys’ car was, but the thought of a pregnant omega unloading that stuff alone prickled at Jack’s instincts. Few people would describe Jack as anywhere near the helpful type, but as Rhys stood back from the packed trunk and studied it like he was planning his next Jenga move, the alpha piped up.
“Jeez, you cleaned out the whole store, looks like? Getting stuff for the baby?”
“Mmhm. Yeah.” Rhys’ reply was dismissive as it usually was. Jack rocked his heels against the grass, raising his eyebrow as Rhys reached out abortively, before retracting his hands back against his chest.
“Need some help with that? Looks heavy.”
“No thank you!” Rhys’ singsong politeness was definitely forced. He probably wanted Jack to go away so he could prove himself a tough little omega who could unload a car all on his own, but as Rhys tried sliding his hands underneath the bulky, heavy-looking box and pressed his nascent little belly against the side, Jack’s heart jumped.
“Woah woah woah easy there, kiddo!” Jack quickly jogged around the hedge and up Rhys’ driveway just as the omega grunted and let the box back slam back down against the trunk-bed. The entire car rocked with its weight as Rhys growled in frustration. He whirled around to meet Jack’s eyes with an annoyed pout, shaking his reddened fingers out with a hiss.
“I said I got it, okay?” Rhys insisted, even as he let Jack through to the car. The box had nearly fallen onto the driveway, half of it now resting against the lip of the trunk. Jeez. Rhys couldn’t fallen or dropped the damn thing on his toe or worse.
Jack shook his head, smacking the box away from the edge of the bumper.
“You’re gonna give yourself a hernia or something. Keep this up, and I’m gonna tell your doctor on you.”
“My medical health is none of your business.” Rhys watched Jack hoist the box up, passivity sapping the annoyance in his voice of any real weight The alpha wedged the box against his forearms, supporting it against his chest. He tilted his head towards the rest of the bags. Rhys eyed him skeptically, but grabbed the remaining bags and piled them atop the box. Jack gritted his teeth against the added weight, adapting his posture as Rhys shut the trunk door. Jack waited as Rhys grabbed a few small bags from the passenger seat, draping them over his forearm as he walked the cobblestone path up to the front door. Jack thumped after him, grateful he’d been doing his lifting lately. He really didn’t want to embarrass himself by dropping Rhys’ haul all over his succulent garden.
As Rhys unlocked the door, it struck Jack that this was the first time he’d actually stepped inside of the omega’s house. He tilted his head up, taking a deep breath as he carried the load over the threshold.
The whole place smelled like him, the front door sealing him in the bubble of delicate musk.
Oh god. Jack was in heaven.
“W…where do you want ‘em, pumpkin?” Jack managed as he shook his head, as if trying to clear the scent from his system enough to focus on not dropping the box on his foot.
Rhys gestured vaguely downwards.
“Just put them on the floor. I can move them later.”
“You sure? You got a nursery set up yet, kiddo, I could always just—“
“The floor is fine, thank you!”
“All right, all right.” Jack grunted as he crouched, slowly sliding the box off his forearms and onto the floor with a muffled thump. Rhys hadn’t struck him much as a carpet guy, but at least it was a nice, clean grey. Of course. Rhys was a pretty clean, trim omega, it made sense his house would be the same.
“Oof. There we go.” Jack straightened up, bracing his hands against his back. Rhys smirked, settling the bags on the couch.
“I think you might be the one on hernia-watch after that.”
“Very funny, kiddo. So does your alpha pack-mule get a glass of water for his trouble?” Jack smacked his lips and cocks his head to where he imagined Rhys’ kitchen might be. He could see a couple of barstools around the wall separating the living room from the rest of the house and he’d like an excuse to see more of it.
Rhys rolled his eyes, obviously figuring what Jack was up to. Whatever. Jack had never been subtle about his intentions. He was too old to fuss about with his flirting.
“I suppose it’s the least I can do,” Rhys relented, waving Jack over as he ambled towards what Jack had presumed was the kitchen. Of course, he was right, but Rhys’ kitchen surprised him with just how fancy it was. State-of-the-art appliances all shining in the row of light set around an attractive skylight, stainless-steel counters so clean you could eat off of them, and ingredients both decorative and practical set out attractively in bowls and racks and hanging from hooks.
Jack was so busy taking in every little detail, memorizing the layout of Rhys’ kitchen for his next fantasy that he started when Rhys pushed the cool glass of water into his hand.
“There you go, hero.” Rhys’ sarcasm was a little softer, conscious of Jack as a guest rather than simply a nosy neighbor who couldn’t take a hint. Jack swiped the glass after a moment’s confusion and threw half its content’s back, smacking his lips loudly.
“You got one of those fancy faucet filters, don’t ya? I got one of those pitchers, if yours ever breaks you can borrow mine.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Rhys stated flatly, taking Jack’s glass to the dishwasher as soon as he emptied it. Jack rested his elbow against the steel countertops, rapping his fingers. Rhys hugged his arms about his chest, looking Jack up and down. The alpha leaned further over the countertop, inviting. One of his shirt buttons had popped open as the box had rubbed against him. Good, Jack. Use it.
“So…listen, um…I’ve got some stuff to do…” Rhys’ creamy throat pulsed in a swallow. His hand inched down to rub his stomach but he quickly drew it back. The movement pulled a little at his shirt, stretching it a bit tauter about his middle.
“Mmm, I get it, you want me to buzz off.” Jack chuckled, tracing a foggy little path into the counter. Rhys arms wrapped tighter about his body, cheeks pinked.
“It’s just, you know, I have to make dinner and put away all this stuff and there’s just…a lot.”
Jack knew he could offer to help with dinner and put things away and maybe even assemble that rocking chair he’d lugged in for Rhys. But he wanted the gesture to stand on its own and, moreover, he didn’t want to push his luck. He’d been let inside Rhys’ house proper for the first time. In his book, that was the spark that could very well blow the whole thing wide open.
“I get you, I get you. Just lemme know if you ever need any heavy lifting done, ‘kay precious? I’m just a knock on the door away.” He rapped his knuckles on the counter as he pushed himself up and away from it, swaying to his feet.
“Pfft.” Rhys rolled his eyes. “I can take care of myself, don’t worry.” He brushed past Jack, leading the alpha out of the kitchen and back through the living room towards the door. Jack lingered on the threshold as Rhys pushed it open, one foot still inside of the omega’s house.
“We’ll see, pumpkin. Yanno, certain things get a little harder once other things get bigger.”
Rhys bumped the alpha’s foot with the edge of the door, nudging it out. Jack relented, stepping away onto the porch.
“Good night, Jack.”
“Nighty night, Rhysie. See you tomorrow.”
“You always do, huh?” Rhys huffed as closed the door behind him—slowly enough that Jack could catch the quick flash of his smile.