Chapter Text
"Six years!"
The glasses are swept off the table, shattering into a million shining pieces against the floor.
"Six years!"
The table slams against the bookshelf, knocking several of the books to the ground where they stay, dog-eared and with fluttering pages.
"Six years you made me stay quiet about my pup, about the most important thing in my life, to the best friend I've ever had!"
The armchair is shoved back until it tips over and lands on the floor with a low thud.
"Six years of talks and playdates and advice and comfort you took away from me because you were too paranoid to let me say a single word about my son to Pete!"
Kinn watches in silence from the doorway as Porsche wreaks havoc in the living room. The Omega is beside himself with anger and tears, and Kinn knows better than to interrupt. He has tried to steel himself for the inevitable confrontation, but now that it's happening, every soothing, rational argument he's prepared in his head sounds like pure idiocy to himself.
"Six years you had me believing Vegas could hurt our pup while he was too fucking busy caring about his own! Six years, Kinn, six years Pete and I were talking about everything but the one thing we so badly wanted each other to know! Six years of your obsession with the belief that somehow all Vegas wants in life is to ruin you!"
Porsche is standing in the middle of the chaos he's responsible for, hands bloody and littered with tiny cuts from the glass, hair soaked with sweat, eyes dark with rage and desperation, filled to the brim by a silent plea for Kinn to somehow make this okay, to give him a reason for all of this.
The Alpha crosses his arms with a defensive little sigh.
"Porsche—"
His last chance at resolving this situation is over the second it starts. With a sharp hiss, Porsche tries to shoulder past him, and when Kinn attempts to grasp his arm and hold him back, the Omega reaches up to slap him.
"Don't touch me!"
It's all Kinn can do to restrain Porsche's hands and try to keep his mate calm so he won't accidentally hurt himself as he starts to fight, screaming and growling and trying to shove Kinn away so he can free himself. The Alpha doesn't relent. Slowly, bit by bit, he pulls the Omega closer until he can coil both arms around Porsche and hold him tightly against his chest.
"I hate you! I hate you! I should have never listened to you!" Porsche bellows, but he's starting to quiet down into shaky little crying fits, and Kinn settles his chin on the Omega's shoulder with a soft exhale.
"I'm so sorry, baby, I'm sorry," he whispers and cradles Porsche's head, stroking his hair. It's dripping wet, dark and damp, and Porsche claws into his shirt with a stifled moan.
"Kinn, I can't stand it. Pete and I needed each other so much and you… you…"
He can't help but cry.
All those meetings, all those times they've talked – talked about nothing, nothing at all—
Ever since he's recovered from the pregnancy, he has been attending meetings with Vegas and Pete alike, has tried not to let a word about his pregnancy slip, about the little pup sleeping in his nest right that very moment, even though his heart has been aching to tell Pete, to drag him into his nesting room and place Prapai in his arms and embrace them both and tell Pete how happy he is to have a baby. Each time, Kinn's warning glances have kept him from doing just that, and it's been torture.
And now he finds out that during all of that, Pete must've been just the same – craving to tell him every single thing about his own pup, wanting Porsche to know, to talk to him, to exchange stories and to call at random just to gush about all the new things their babies are picking up on.
Only because of their stupid, overprotective Alphas, they haven't known of each other's sons for six years.
How many times would Porsche have liked to talk to another Omega about how to best get Prapai to cease his incessant tantrums, how many times would he have loved to let his pup play with a kid his age so he'll be occupied for an hour or two, how many times has he wished he could let Prapai invite a friend for his birthdays?
The more he thinks about it, the more miserable he feels.
They've parted on the playground, both with panicked eyes and hasty excuses to get back home, and now Porsche regrets not having at least called Pete in the meantime, or to tell him he'll come visit.
God, all these years— Has he really expected Vegas' men to come banging down their door to eviscerate their son like a national threat or something? He needs to see Pete, talk to him.
He will.
Tomorrow, right away.
"Where are we going?" Prapai complains while Porsche pulls a shirt over his head.
The pup is still sleepy – his mama rarely wakes him up before eight, and he's not used to trips outside so early in the morning.
"To visit someone," Porsche mutters and slings the bag he's packed over his shoulder. "Put on your jacket, sweetheart."
"We never visited anyone before," Prapai mutters as he wriggles into his little coat and takes Porsche's outheld hand to follow him into the hallway.
His steps are sluggish and slow, and eventually the Omega leans down to pick him up and seat him on his arm. Still rubbing his eyes, Prapai knocks his head against Porsche's shoulder and yawns. He nearly falls asleep on the way down to the garage, and when he's being strapped into his car seat, he's out like a light again.
Porsche drives by himself. He doesn't let any of the bodyguards know where they're going, either, and he's left his phone at home so Kinn won't be able to track him down. His hands clench around the steering wheel, eyes fixed on the road, and he grinds his jaws. His Alpha is not going to keep him from his best friend and his nephew a single day longer.
When he arrives, the guards immediately recognize his car. The gate opens for him, and he parks on the driveway, tossing the keys to one of the men who come out to welcome him. The other turns back around, probably to notify Vegas and Pete of Porsche's arrival. Rounding the car, Porsche opens the back door and gently unstraps Prapai before lifting him into his arms and holding him against his chest as he walks up the stone steps to the front door at a brisk pace, eager to get them both inside. He recalls the layout of the house a little from his visit here when Kinn has lent him out to Vegas, but not much of that memory remains.
The bodyguards bid him wait in the lounge on the second floor, and Porsche does, pacing up and down and stroking the sleeping pup's back as he does. It's early, too early for any kind of well-to-do mafia boss to be out of bed already, he realizes when Vegas shows up on the top landing of the stairs clad in some low-cut pants and an open dress shirt – clearly not ready for visitors yet.
The Alpha freezes when Porsche looks up at him over Prapai's shoulder, and for a second, the Omega isn't so sure whether he's done the right thing by telling Kinn about Pete's child. It doesn't look like Pete has gone running to his Alpha to do the same. Swallowing hard, Porsche holds Prapai closer. Suddenly, all of Kinn's paranoid fears about Vegas wanting to hurt their pup come rushing at him and he thinks about turning around and running, but then the Alpha comes towards him slowly, and reaches out his hands.
Porsche watches, cautious and attentive, but Vegas' face conveys not an ounce of hostility as he takes hold of Prapai and lifts the little boy out his mama's arms to settle him on his own hip instead.
"Pete is on his way," he whispers, and gently strokes Prapai's messy hair out of his face. "He's just taking a moment to get dressed."
Before he's even done speaking, hurried steps approach and then Pete comes flying down the stairs and right into Porsche's arms. The Omegas curl around each other as desperately as if they haven't seen each other in ages – not really, it feels like. Just last week, they've sat across the table from each other at a meeting, smiling and exchanging pleasantries, but now it feels real.
"Pete," Porsche chokes out and claws into his best friend's hair to hold him even closer, "Pete, Pete— I missed you, I missed you so much!"
"I missed you too, Porsche," Pete whimpers and buries his face against his chest. "I wanted— I wanted to tell you, I really did!"
"Me too, I swear, I promise, but Kinn—"
They break off, and Pete pulls back, eyes wide as he stares at Vegas holding the sleeping little pup. He reaches out, nearly trembling, and the Alpha carefully lets him take Prapai into his own arms.
"Oh Porsche," Pete breathes as he gently runs one hand over the boy's raven hair. "He's beautiful. What's his name?"
"Prapai," Porsche whispers and rests his forehead against the little boy's. "My little whirlwind."
It's quiet for a long time between them, and at some point Porsche feels Vegas' hand gently resting on his arm. He looks up at the Alpha with suspicion, but Vegas just leans over him and kisses Pete's hair. They clearly haven't had the kind of fight Porsche and Kinn have gone through, and Porsche feels a slight flash of jealousy that spreads under his skin like wildfire. Pete must be upset with Vegas too for keeping them all at arm's length from each other all this time, yet none of that shines through now. Maybe they're just hiding it very well.
"Come on," Pete urges that same moment and takes Porsche's arm with his free hand. He's trembling with eagerness and nerves, his scent welling up unsteadily just the same as Porsche's. "We'll go upstairs. Prapai can sleep in the living room while we talk."