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There was someone living in his house.
This, on its own, wasn’t news to him. Chris had opened the door, welcomed the man in himself. That day, upon seeing Leon, who chose to blankly stare at him rather than give an explanation for his being here, he’d jokingly asked, “Here for a sleepover?”
Leon’d grunted in reply, shrugging a shoulder while he squeezed through to enter—so in retrospect, perhaps it was wrong to say that Chris welcomed him in. Leon had welcomed himself; all Chris had done was acquiesce, closing the door behind him without so much as a comment. Not on how it was a random Wednesday morning, or on how Leon hadn’t given even the slightest headsup. He dropped his bag next to the couch which would be his home for however long he was staying, and that was that.
Essentially, it was just that: a spontaneous sleepover with a friend. Nothing out of the ordinary. A few more days of this, too, was normal.
It was fun, even. Living alone could get a little lonely, and Chris hadn’t realized how much he’d been missing having someone to talk to during meals, someone to watch movies with. Work, friends, events, they talked about anything and everything. Although sudden extended company might feel overwhelming sometimes, Leon wasn’t the kind of guy who’d try to force a conversation if he looked like he wasn’t in the mood to talk. Even silences were comfortable with him.
Plus, they could take turns doing chores, so it was a win in his book.
A month passed just like this.
Then one day, something seemed to shift. Nothing happened that triggered it. Just, Chris woke up with a raging headache that morning, opened his eyes and instantly closed them again because even through the curtains, the sun was much too bright. He got up and walked to the bathroom like a zombie with the intention to wash his face, hoping that it would give him some clarity, but instead ended up staring blankly at the sink.
Somehow, without his realization, his surroundings had changed. Something had shifted in his reality. The cup on the sink now held an extra toothbrush, the towel rack an extra towel, the shower niche an extra shampoo and soap.
Not knowing what to do about it, Chris washed his face. Wiped it with the towel—his towel, because there was more than one now—and walked to the kitchen. But when he raised his hand to grab a glass from the cupboard to drink some aspirin, something caught his eye.
The half-opened cupboard beside him teased an exorbitant amount of coffee, and it looked to be mocking him. Because it was no longer about needs, but also about likes, and Chris suddenly felt like his entire house smelt like coffee, which couldn’t be right.
He paused, almost in wonder but mostly because he was dizzy and sleepy because it was like seven A.M., and his brain seemed to be malfunctioning. It was stupid. He realized it was stupid. He’d let the man into his home, would do it all over again without being asked, but it was weird, to realize that said home had been transformed seemingly without his knowing even though he’d always been here.
Even when they weren’t together, Leon’s presence had always been at the periphery of his mind, yet only today did it click that he’d been here for so long. Long enough to get comfortable; never even left to clean up his own place. Chris wondered if spider webs had started to grow over there.
But just as he was debating opening that cupboard—to what? Brew one? Start a confrontation that was without basis other than his sudden existential crisis?—someone patted his shoulder from behind only to reach around him for one of those coffees.
It disconcerted him more than remembering the length of time of Leon’s stay, even more than the coffees. The way he so easily reached around, so closely leaned in without a word, chest to back almost touching— And then he offered, “Want one?” in his deep, raspy morning voice that for some reason sent shivers down Chris’ spine.
In his befuddled state, he replied, “Ah, sure.” He didn’t even like coffee. It sure as hell wouldn’t help with the headache.
It was fine.
Would he dare claim it was normal? Nope. But it was his house, and therefore he had the right to choose who got to stay in it.
Leon wasn’t a bad housemate. He never complained about having to sleep on the couch, didn’t make much noise, never invited friends over, did his share of chores, and sometimes even bought him random gifts for no reason other than them reminding him of Chris. Even though this was an unplanned and undiscussed housemateship, Chris got the better end of the deal here. So it was fine.
But then his friends decided that they also had a right to choose who got to stay.
Most were downright teasing—”Are you two finally together? Finally confessed your undying love?” or “Is his neck okay sleeping on the couch like that? You not gonna offer up your bed, Chris?”—but a few were genuinely concerned: “Leon’s still there? Why’s he staying so long? An unbonded alpha and omega living together—Chris, I don’t mean to judge, but aren’t you worried? Has he gotten his rut yet? What would you do then?”
Chris didn’t know the answer to any of those questions, so he waved them all off with a smile. Besides, Leon just needed someone to stay with, and he was happy to be that person for him, and that was that.
Kind of.
Except not really, because one day during the second or so month, they were hanging out at a restaurant and something happened that made him reevaluate things.
It didn’t happen while they were eating. It happened after.
The waiter who waited on their table had seemed perfectly pleasant up until they asked for the check. Chris wasn’t paying attention; he was typing his PIN and only noticed the tense air when it was too late.
“The fuck are you looking at?”
Leon’s tone was what instantly made Chris look up in alarm. Then, his words registered and Chris looked in the direction he was glaring at to see the waiter who looked just as angry.
“I wasn’t looking at anything, sir,” he replied in a strained sort of tone that said he definitely did something wrong but didn’t want to lose his job.
Leon scoffed. “Yeah, right. Can’t believe bigots can still get a job these days,” were his parting words before he pulled Chris up from his chair and led him out the door.
As agreeable as ever, Chris followed him wordlessly.
The ride home was quiet with only music as mercy. Chris spent it attempting to sort out his thoughts, which was difficult to do without much context. Why did Leon get so angry? Was it really just because that waiter was looking?
There had to be more to the story, because put that way, Leon sounded like an overprotective alpha. Put that way, Leon sounded jealous.
But they didn’t talk about it. They didn’t talk at all.
When they got home, Leon turned on the TV and asked him, as if nothing was wrong, “What do you wanna watch?”
And that was that, but not for Chris.
Now that such thoughts had entered his mind, his friends’ words—both the warnings and the teasing—seemed to replay in his mind, overpowering the sound of the TV. He’d always waved them off, certain that Leon wasn’t interested. But now, sitting on the couch with Leon’s arm casually resting behind him on the couch—
Now, putting into perspective how they’d been living so domestically with the chance that Leon might be interested—
But although he wanted to know so badly, although he wanted to have this not just for now but for certain, he was too afraid to ask. His mind froze up at the thought of voicing it out loud.
Later, Chris woke up to being hugged. As odd as it was for him, he didn’t question it, didn’t tense up even the slightest bit. A few moments later, he realized that this was abnormal behavior for him; he also realized that the reason he was so relaxed was the scent that surrounded him. The almost overbearing smell of coffee that had enveloped not only him but his home for the past month—it came from the man beside him, the man whose presence comforted him so much that he could fall asleep even when he was overthinking.
Once again, he was confused. What did this mean? They hadn’t fallen asleep in this position, but he knew Leon wasn’t the kind of person to move in his sleep. The man was rigid, the slightest touch could wake him. So why…?
Not ready for confrontation, Chris didn’t move for fear of waking Leon up, but he woke up anyway.
“What time is it?” he asked, once again with that deep morning voice that warmed Chris’ face.
“Dunno, I just woke up,” he replied, trying to go for casual.
Leon hummed and the vibration sent shivers down his spine at this proximity. “Wanna order out?”
“We just ate.”
“Yeah but I’m hungry and I don’t feel like cooking.”
Bewildered that Leon continued essentially hugging him during this whole back-and-forth, Chris ended up agreeing. But the peace didn’t last long.
Face to face on the dining table, Leon finally asked, “Hey, you’re okay, right?”
Chris blinked in surprise. “Huh? Yeah, why do you ask?”
“You’ve seemed a bit off since we got back. Did that alpha really get to you? Don’t think about it, he was an asshole.”
Well, considering Chris had no idea what that alpha even did, “Not really…”
“Then?”
Chris blankly looked at him.
“What’s the problem?” he asked impatiently, but Chris couldn’t take it seriously since he was exhibiting so much…care.
“I don’t actually know what he did, to be honest.”
Leon’s brows raised in surprise. “You didn’t see the face he made at you when he gave you the card scanner?”
“No? What face?”
Leon immediately opened his mouth then stopped himself, which Chris knew meant that he was thinking of how to word something without hurting his feelings. It did strange things to his poor stomach, warm, fluttery things. Finally, he landed on, “He was judging you for paying.”
“What?” he asked blankly. Was he not supposed to? Was that waiter expecting them to eat and run, and was he disappointed that they didn’t do it? Did they look that poor?
“Because you’re an omega,” replied Leon slowly.
Oh.
It all made sense.
“Oh,” he said smartly.
Leon at least seemed relieved that he finally understood and the awkward conversation was over, but it still wasn’t over for Chris. Chris, who’d always known that Leon didn’t care about traditional beliefs and kept trying to get himself into that headspace because he didn’t want to misunderstand things. Chris, who consistently ignored his friends’ comments about ‘an alpha and an omega living together’ because surely Leon didn’t care, didn’t see him in that way. Chris, who didn’t want to get his hopes up because he was so tired of being disappointed.
But this—it wasn’t traditional, but it wasn’t not. Living together, taking care of each other, going out, buying each other gifts. Chris didn’t know what to think of it anymore, but he knew what he wanted it to be.
“I’m used to it, Leon. I mean, it sucks, but you didn’t have to fight him. I can protect myself.”
Leon scoffed. “That wasn’t a fight. And I know that, but what kind of alpha doesn’t protect his omega? Would be a shitty one, wouldn’t I?” Then, he one-sidedly considered the conversation done and left to do god knew what that man usually did. Probably fix the sink.
If, after that conversation, Leon not only made himself home in his house but also his bed— If they spent most of their time stuck to each other like glue—cooking in the kitchen, cuddling on the couch as they watched TV, hugging each other as they fell asleep—then that was nobody’s business.
And if Chris came to headquarters with a barely-hidden bite on the back of his neck and a small ribbon tied next to his dog tags with Leon’s color, then that’s also nobody’s business.