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When Steve discovered his latest physio session was with Eddie, he nearly fled.
He’d such a crush. They’d flirted outrageously at a college party when, idiotically, Steve had gotten too buzzed to hook-up. The Alpha had chivalrously delivered him home.
That was last month. Before Steve screwed up his tennis season—his entire life—and stopped partying altogether.
Now, Steve perched on the examination bed, wide-eyed, his feet swinging nervously. The trainee-physio gently manipulated his arm.
“Like before,” said Eddie, “any pain, tell me and I’ll stop. Score it out of 10 for me.”
Steve’s shoulder stabbed. He smothered a squeal.
“Steve?”
“2 out of 10.”
Eddie settled on the bed beside Steve, humming uneasily. “You’ve scored all your pain 2 today. You sure?”
Steve bit his lip, flinching away from Eddie's gaze. He couldn’t lie to a mega-hot Alpha radiating protective vibes. Even one currently reminding him rotator-cuff tears healed slowly. Steve couldn’t train, let alone compete, for months. Eddie wasn’t gonna tell Steve's coach otherwise: “You’ll only damage yourself more.”
Steve sniffled then the truth exploded in a rush. “It’s so unfair! Presenting Omega blew my dreams in basketball and swimming. I won a college scholarship for tennis—one of the few Omega-friendly sports—and this happens. I’m pointless,” he sobbed into Eddie’s shoulder.
Huh? Oh shit.
He’d pretty much burrowed into Eddie’s side, which was totally inappropriate, doubtless violating a ton of codes.
It was nice here tho’. Cosy.
Safe.
He hooked his uninjured arm around Eddie’s neck, snuffling for Eddie’s scent beneath their blockers.
“There’s more to life than tennis.” Eddie gently patted him. “Music’s my first love. Then my uncle got injured at work and I decided to study physio. Now I’ve two passions, including one that might even earn me a living one day. Maybe you’ll find another while you heal.”
You?
Steve snuggled deeper into Eddie. A purr escaped him, answered by a rumbling growl.
“I’m liking your chosen therapy," murmured Eddie, stroking featherlight at Steve's nape, “but we’ve violated a ton of rules here.”
“You want me to go?”
Peeping up, Steve’s sinking heart leaped.
Eddie’s warm smile totally melted him. “You’re my last appointment. How ’bout we grab take-out? Continue this at your digs?”
Steve let Eddie carry him to his car, where they scented each other without blockers. Then Eddie took him straight home, for their first proper healing snuggle-session.
When Steve returned to tennis, he had two loves, and Eddie had three.
Each knew they scored top.