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The front door of the Diaz house clicked shut, cutting off the late afternoon sun. They had just dragged themselves home from a brutal twenty-four-hour shift at the station—the kind that left your bones aching and your eyes burning from smoke and exhaustion.
But for Buck, the end of the shift didn't mean it was time to relax. It just started a different countdown.
"Alright," Buck muttered, kicking off his heavy boots and immediately whizzing into the living room. He pulled up his mental clipboard, flipping through his imaginary checklist at top speed. "House is locked down. Supplies are in. We've got about twelve hours before your rut hit and we're officially off the grid."
The actual preparations had been completed a week ago. Food was prepped, the bedroom was ready, and the blackout curtains were drawn. It was a routine they had down to a science—one they had perfected years before they had ever even crossed the line into becoming a couple. Buck knew exactly what was coming. Once Eddie's rut officially hit, they were going to be locked away in their bedroom for days, and Buck would be too occupied by a big dumb alpha to handle anything else.
Operating on frantic omega nesting instincts, Buck blurred through the house. He checked the pantry doors, verified the water bottles were placed exactly where they needed to be, straightened the cushions, and snatched up a rogue pair of socks from the floor. He was a man on a mission, determined to leave the house immaculate before he was out of commission.
He darted back toward the hallway to grab the laundry basket, intending to run one final sweep for clutter, when a heavy, sudden pressure shoved hard against his hip.
Buck stumbled slightly, the basket rattling in his grip. He blinked, looking down.
There was no human Eddie waiting for him. Sometime during Buck's frantic pacing, Eddie had completely given up on holding back. A massive, towering midnight-black wolf—easily tipping the scales at a lean, muscle-dense one-hundred-and-ninety pounds omega—was looking up at him with dazed, intense golden eyes. His broad snout was planted firmly against Buck's thigh, his massive chest broad enough to block the entire width of the doorframe.
Buck sighed, throwing his head back to the sky. "Eddie, come on, man. Just gimme one hour—no, twenty. I just need twenty minutes."
The wolf didn't care about the timeline. Eddie was already in full pre-rut shadow mode, his human mind frayed by the impending hormonal tidal wave. He let out a low, vibrating chuff, leaning his entire, heavy weight right into Buck’s legs and completely blocking his path.
This was exactly why Buck had been trying to move at lightning speed. He knew from years of experience that trying to complete even the simplest chore was going to take twice as long now that he had a giant, stubborn canine speedbump glued to his side, refusing to let him out of his sight.
Eddie refused to let him do the chores peacefully. Every single step Buck tried to take was met with a massive, hairy roadblock. Buck would reach for a stray towel, and Eddie would deliberately place a dinner-plate-sized paw right on top of it. Buck tried to shimmy past him toward the hallway closet, but Eddie simply sidestepped, using his immense bulk to crowd Buck right off his feet.
Buck didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "Eddie, seriously, let go! I'm trying to help us!"
The alpha wolf had absolutely zero interest in helpfulness. With a sudden, heavy surge of momentum, Eddie drove his broad shoulders forward, easily sweeping Buck's legs out from under him. The plastic laundry basket clattered away, empty, as Buck hit the living room carpet with a breathless wheeze.
Before Buck could even think about rolling over, Eddie was over him. The massive black wolf pinned him flat against the rug, using his large chest and heavy forepaws to anchor Buck's shoulders down. Buck tried to struggle, planting his palms against Eddie’s thick, furry ribs and shoving with all his strength, but it was like trying to lift a boulder.
"Eddie, get off, you giant menace!" Buck gasped, laughing helplessly even as he yanked his head back.
Eddie ignored the protests. His instinct was driving him to claim, scent, and secure his mate before the rut took over his brain completely. He began scruffing Buck, his heavy jaws nipping gently but firmly at the marked skin of Buck's nape, pinning him down while his massive, wet tongue delivered broad, damp licks across Buck’s jawline and throat. The heavy, possessive scent of pine and dark woodsmoke washed over Buck in waves, thick enough to make his own head swim. Buck wriggled, his fingers burying deep into Eddie's scruff to try and push the giant head away, but Eddie just rumbled deeply in his chest, a low, vibrating purr that shook right through Buck's ribs.
Buck’s trashing weakened as the pressure on his mating gland increased, turning him into a limp, purring omega.
For ten, fifteen minutes, it was a losing battle of Buck wrestling against a very determined, very heavy apex predator who wanted nothing more than to smother his mate in fur and saliva. He’d managed to climb up the sofa to get more leverage, but Eddie looked even comfier now.
Suddenly, the front door lock clicked open.
Buck’s head snapped toward the entryway, and he let out a massive sigh of relief. "Chris! Chris, thank god, help me get your dad off—"
Buck couldn't see the front door from his position pinned flat underneath Eddie’s massive torso, but he didn't need to. He was waiting for the heavy thud of a teenager’s sneakers, the dramatic drop of a backpack, and maybe a mumbled greeting.
Instead, the sharp, distinctive click-click-click of claws against the hardwood floor echoed down the hallway.
Buck’s eyes went wide. "Noo!" he cried out, the word a mix of a laugh and a genuine howl of betrayal. "Chris, don't you dare!"
He struggled harder against Eddie’s crushing weight, trying to wedge an elbow underneath the alpha's thick shoulder to hoist himself up, but Eddie just let out a heavy, warnings-only growl and shifted his hips, effectively flattening Buck right back into the cushion.
A second later, the scruffy dark brown wolf pup trotted into the living room. Chris didn't have his backpack, and he certainly wasn't wearing his human clothes. He stopped at the edge of the rug, his tail giving a few slow, rhythmic wags, his ears pricked forward. Even in wolf form, the kid radiated a smug, shit-eating grin.
"Christopher Diaz, you are supposed to be packing!" Buck whined, his voice muffled slightly as Eddie’s wet nose nudged hard into his cheekbone. "Hen is going to be here in an hour to pick you up. You have a checklist! Did you pack your extra hoodie? Did you grab your charger? If you leave your retainer here, I swear to god—"
Chris didn't answer with a bark. He just let out a small, huffing breath through his snout, his bright eyes glinting with pure teenage mischief.
Buck knew exactly what the kid was doing. He knew it with absolute, undeniable certainty. As a human, Chris had entered that lovely adolescent phase where every single piece of parental advice was met with a heavy sigh, a roll of the eyes, and a swift retreat to his bedroom. If Chris had walked through that door on two legs, Buck would have hovered over him like a helicopter, nagging him endlessly about his homework, his packing list, and making sure he said thank you to Karen the moment he arrived.
But Chris was smart. He knew the ultimate loophole. He knew that the very second he took four legs, Buck’s brain completely melted. Buck was utterly, helplessly weak to the pup form, unable to properly scold a fuzzy, oversized puppy who looked at him with big, unblinking eyes.
"You're a traitor," Buck groaned, his head falling back against the arm rest in complete defeat. "Both of you."
Chris didn't hesitate. Bypassing the hallway, the grey pup trotted straight over to the wrestling match on the couch. Eddie didn't even lift his head from Buck's neck, merely shifting his massive hind leg outward to make space for his son. But Chris wasn’t satisfied with the tiny offering. With a sudden, clumsy burst of energy, Chris scrambled right up over Eddie’s flank, his smaller paws digging ruthlessly into his father's ribs until he managed to wedge his entire scruffy body right into the tight pocket of space between Buck’s shoulder and the couch cushion.
He dropped his chin directly onto Buck's chest, letting out a massive, rattling sigh that puffed warm air right under Buck's chin.
"Oh, sure, just make yourself at home," Buck mumbled, though his hands were already moving on instinct. His left hand remained buried in the thick, coarse fur of Eddie's neck, finding the heavy muscle that always tensioned up right before a rut, while his right hand reached up to thoroughly scratch behind Chris’s flopped-over ears.
Eddie let out a deep, vibrating rumble—a sound so low and resonant it felt like a minor earthquake beneath Buck's spine. He gave Buck one last, massive, damp lick across the jawline before finally going entirely lax, pinning Buck to the floor with a comfortable, suffocating one-hundred-and-eighty pounds of pure alpha muscle. Chris echoed the sound with his own high-pitched, vibrating chuff, his front paws kneading weakly against Buck’s collarbone before he closed his eyes, content.
Buck mourned his checklist. The laundry basket was sitting empty three feet away, the kitchen sink was still filled with a few dirty dishes, and Hen was going to arrive to a house that smelled like an entire forest of protective wolves, but as Buck lay there, completely trapped beneath his boyfriend and his kid, he just let out a soft, breathless laugh and closed his eyes.
Whatever. The chores can wait.