Chapter Text
As he grew older, Jobe became more and more attuned to the changes happening around him. The mischief that had once kept the neighbors and his parents on edge was now nothing but stories from the past. His shelf, once stuffed full of comics, had vanished after a garage clear-out, now belonging to the library of a small local orphanage. Even the old game console he'd once gotten for Christmas had abruptly died on some random day, and had likewise been carted off and sold for scrap.
And it wasn't just his things that changed - he did too. His favorite shirt had suddenly gone short, tight across the shoulders, riding up to bare his stomach whenever he raised his arms. His trousers were the same, always leaving his ankles exposed, and his shoes met the same fate as everything else - no longer fitting his feet at all.
But above all else, the thing that had changed the most was the relationship between him and Jude.
At fourteen, Jobe watched his brother make history, becoming the youngest player to ever score for Birmingham City - the club the two of them had grown up loving together. As the ball rolled into the net, Jude - a completely different Jude, wearing the brightest smile Jobe had ever seen - took off sprinting toward the big stand to celebrate. His still-lanky, still-small frame swallowed up in the roar of a crowd loud enough to split the walls, his eyes catching a vivid, restless blue that surged and shifted with the fans' frenzy.
His celebration was a botched knee-slide across the grass - Jobe figured it had to have scraped his knee raw - but none of that mattered, because oh my god, Jude, his incredible older brother, had just scored a goal right in front of him and thousands of other Bluenoses.
Jobe couldn't hold back his joy, but at the same time, he felt strangely unsettled. He swallowed, slipping free of his parents' tight embrace to drop down into his seat, one hand pressed to his chest, feeling his own heart racing wildly, ears ringing from the roar erupting all around the stand.
From the very first time he'd played alongside his brother, Jobe had known Jude was different from every other kid around. Whether it was some small pickup match with friends just for fun and practice, or a proper competitive game at school, Jude always poured every last bit of his strength and focus into playing his role well. His mind was sharp, his legs tireless. Before the other kids' eyes could even catch up to the ball's movement, Jude had already slipped past the defense to put it in the net, leaving the opposing side stunned.
Every win Jude brought home made the whole Bellingham family happy, and from there, the thought of a brighter future - one that stretched beyond Stourbridge - had slowly begun taking root in the back of their minds. His potential was so unmistakable that all the effort their parents had put into researching youth football development pathways turned out not to have been wasted after all.
Honestly, Jobe was genuinely happy for him, and always believed that Jude deserved every wonderful thing this world had to offer.
But sometimes, in certain fleeting moments - when people mistakenly called him Jude instead, or when he played poorly and his friends teased him, telling him to go fetch his brother to take his place - Jobe felt something grow just a little heavier in his chest. That feeling could never swallow up the love he had for his brother, but at the same time, it refused to go away and leave him be, either.
Ever since Jude had become part of Birmingham City's academy, and now, a rising new star for Birmingham City senior team, Jobe had had to keep accepting his place living in his brother's shadow, as if it were simply the script of fate. As if destiny had handed Jude that God-given talent, while Jobe was just the one who'd lit the spark, the one who'd shown Jude the way onto the path toward his own success.
On long, endless nights, Jobe would sometimes lie awake, watching his brother asleep in the bed beside him, the Birmingham City kit sitting still in the laundry basket, making his eyes sting. It had been Jobe who loved football first, Jobe who'd gotten Jude to actually step onto the pitch and put his foot to a ball, Jobe who'd thrown his arms around him when he scored his very first goal, back when he was still just a clueless kid who didn't even understand what offside meant. But now, when Jude scored on the pitch in some big match among thousands of people, Jobe wasn't right there beside him anymore.
For Jobe, it wasn't jealousy - it was more a feeling of distance, an invisible fear that Jude simply wouldn't need him anymore. That was why Jobe started taking his own training more seriously while watching countless videos on football technique, and thanks to all that hard work, he did manage to build up a certain amount of success of his own - though of course, nothing that could ever measure up to Jude.
The more successful his brother became, the brighter he shone, the more anxious Jobe grew, and he found himself wishing Jude would just slow down, wait for him a little, so the two of them could walk side by side again, the way they had when they were small.
Jobe and Jude - a matched pair, inseparable.
Never torn apart.
One and the same soul.
Wasn't that supposed to be the truth?
But time waits for no one.
Just like the mischief, the stacks of comics, the old game console, the clothes and shoes - everything had changed.
And Jude was no different.
Slowly, over the years, he had changed completely without waiting for Jobe to catch up.
…
"Jude." Denise called out, cutting through the lively conversation between father and sons. The talk about the match and what could still be improved momentarily died down, making room for what Denise wanted to say to her boys.
"Jude, have you noticed anything different lately?"
"Hmm, maybe my calves have been a bit sore? The pressure of training and playing for the first team really is different from before."
Denise shook her head, then pointed a finger at the back of her own neck.
"Not that. I mean, have you noticed any changes in your scent glands yet?"
Jobe paused, knife still resting on the meat on his plate, his gaze snapping immediately over to his brother. Jude stopped eating too, a flicker of embarrassment crossing his face.
"The doctor said presenting is still at least a month out, though."
"You still have to check every day. Better safe than sorry. I don't want anything happening - you know, presenting out of nowhere right before a match, in the locker room, out on the pitch, somewhere your father and I can't reach you?"
Jude made a face - he really didn't like this topic at all. It felt like being dragged back into biology class, with all those confusing tests and a teacher who liked to nag about every little thing in life.
"I still haven't noticed anything different, Mom, don't worry. If any suspicious symptoms show up, I'll let everyone and the team know right away."
"Hmm... The day after tomorrow, once you're done training, come with me. We need to buy some more blankets and pillows."
"What for?"
Denise raised an eyebrow, explaining matter-of-factly.
"Nesting supplies?"
"Mom!"
She shrugged, going back to her meal, deliberately ignoring Jude's overreaction.
"Can't be too careful about it."
Jude felt his face heat up, the food on his plate slowly going cold in front of him.
"I'm never going to present as an Omega. I don't need nesting supplies."
The air suddenly went quiet - nobody dared say another word.
Everyone knew Jude was already under a lot of pressure after joining Birmingham City; performing well with the first team mattered enormously for catching the attention of bigger clubs, and only then might his career actually have a chance to go further. Unluckily, after his last physical check-up, the doctor had said this year also happened to be his secondary gender presentation year, and had asked the family to keep a close eye on any changes in his body.
So, over the past several months, Jude had been dealing with the stress of training while chasing his ambition of bringing the best possible results to the club, all while also having to keep Denise satisfied by sitting through the "information nights" she kept organizing, meant to prepare him as best as possible for whatever was about to happen to his body.
The overwhelming worry from his mother and the sky-high expectations from the club had Jude sliding into a constant state of anxiety, quick to snap at everyone around him. When Denise had suggested that maybe this, too, was a symptom of an Alpha approaching his rut, Jude was even more frustrated.
It's stress, Mom! I'm just stressed!
Who could possibly know?
Mom!
...
Jobe pushed the door open into the living room, planning to sprawl out on the sofa to unwind after a long, exhausting day at school, when suddenly, from the kitchen, he caught sight of his brother storming out, clearly irritated, before bolting up the stairs - followed by their mother's voice, calling after him in a tone of helpless exasperation.
"Jude! You never listen to a word I say!"
Jobe sighed, dragging a palm down over his face. Lately, the relationship between his brother and mother had been going from bad to worse, leaving the atmosphere at home stuck in a constant, uncomfortable tension. He stretched, waited about five minutes, then made his way slowly into the kitchen, where his mother was busy scrubbing the dining table to work off her anger, even though the surface had been gleaming for a while now.
Since Mark was always tied up with work outside the house, Jobe had ended up, reluctantly, becoming the family's designated peacemaker because if he didn't step in, the house was probably going to split right down the middle one of these days.
"Mom, again? What was it this time?" Jobe kneaded his mother's shoulders, feeling the tight, knotted muscles slowly start to loosen.
"Jude suddenly got angry at the nesting supplies shop today, for no reason I could tell."
"You could just buy the stuff yourself and put it away somewhere, you don't have to tell Jude about it."
Denise bit her lip, shaking her head slightly.
"Well, sure, but I want Jude to have his own experience with it, that's the only way he'll actually learn. If he turns out to be an Omega, he'll know how to shop for himself later on. If he's an Alpha, well, he'll need to know how to buy nesting supplies for a partner someday too."
"But Jude could turn out to be an Alpha, and end up loving a Beta."
"Or he could be an Omega. Or an Alpha who loves an Omega."
"Or... a Beta, loving a Beta. Like you and Dad."
Denise crossed her arms, frowning at Jobe.
"I want to prepare for every possibility. Why do the three of you all think about it so simply? As if Jude's definitely going to turn out Beta or Alpha."
"I mean, with his build and how he's developing, height and everything, I figure he'll end up becoming an Alpha."
Denise let out a helpless laugh at how simply Jobe was thinking about it.
"That's the wrong way to think about it. You can't just predict something based on somebody’s build before the presentation happens. And besides, why are you all so afraid of the idea of him being Omega? The second anyone even mentions it, your brother flies off the handle."
Jobe rubbed the back of his neck, shrugging.
"Mom, there's basically no Omega footballer who lasts long in this sport. Of course Jude wouldn't want that."
His words made Denise go still.
Her son was right. Football wasn't exactly a sport built for Omegas. Alphas were widely considered to have far superior physical capability, while Omegas were consistently viewed as the weaker party - smaller builds, leaner frames, worse stamina, hardly able to compete fairly on the pitch. That was exactly why so many major clubs hesitated to sign Omega players at all, worried about how it might affect the Alphas' focus within the squad, leading to countless of young talents being cut simply over their secondary gender. And that wasn't even counting the fact that plenty of clubs resorted to medical tricks to delay heat cycles, so as not to disrupt match schedules, or interfered with scent glands to suppress pheromone output, and so on.
Presenting into an Omega was the worst-case scenario that could possibly happen to Jude - right in the very year he was starting to shine.
Jobe patiently laid out for his mother all the hardships an Omega footballer would face, hoping she'd understand. She listened closely, brow furrowed.
"But there are still good players out there who are Omega. Like Luka Modrić."
"But Mom, that's like... one in a thousand."
Denise gave her son's shoulder a gentle pat before speaking again.
"Whether he presents into an Omega, or an Alpha, or a Beta - or even if your brother turns into a leopard tomorrow, for that matter - he's still Jude. Still my child."
She paused for a moment, then went on.
"And so what if it is, as you put it, the “worst-case scenario”? Then this whole family will just find a way to make Jude the one who goes up against those thousand others then."
Jobe didn't know how to answer her, because honestly, deep down, he actually agreed with her outlook. He pressed his lips together and, in the end, just nodded, and Denise took that as her cue that the conversation was over.
That night, Jobe - ever the dutiful little brother - despite being worn out and wanting nothing more than to sleep, climbed over to the side of Jude's bed the moment he heard his name called, ready to listen to whatever was weighing on his brother's heart.
"Jude, it's fine, really. You're already doing amazing."
Jude sighed - a habit he'd been doing more and more of, ever since turning 16.
"The stuff at the club is only part of it. What really matters is, Mom's driving me nuts. I just want to focus on playing football, not... worry about all that other stuff..."
In the dark of the room, Jobe could still make out his brother's eyes, restless and fixed on the ceiling, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.
"Does Mom ever stop worrying?"
"But this time's different! I get the feeling Mom's already convinced I'm going to turn out to be an Omega."
Jude's brow furrowed involuntarily as he thought back to today's trip to buy nesting supplies. The moment they'd walked through the door, the staff kept staring at him with looks that weren't exactly friendly. When they'd approached them to offer help, the middle-aged staff member had just assumed, without asking, that they were shopping for someone else entirely, instead of realizing it was Jude, standing right there beside Denise, running his hand over the soft surface of the blankets.
When Denise had gestured toward him, the air had turned strange, as if the woman simply couldn't believe that a tall, dark-skinned kid, built like an athlete, could possibly present into an Omega.
Wonderful, just wonderful.
What year was this, still clinging to such tired old prejudices?
Jude had felt humiliated, shame crawling through every cell in his body under the sweep of her gaze up and down him, even though he didn't even particularly want to actually present into an Omega himself.
In the end, the staff member hadn't even bothered helping them, just wished them a good day and disappeared somewhere. But by that point, Jude had lost all interest in trying anything else - humiliation had taken over his whole mind. His indifferent attitude had eventually set Denise off, and the two of them had ended up arguing, going home empty-handed.
"There's no way I could be an Omega, right?"
Jobe wanted to say, there's always a chance, but looking into Jude's eyes, so full of unspoken worry, he ended up swallowing back that objective little thought and answered instead with total certainty, as if it were simply an obvious fact.
"Of course, Jude. You're going to be Alpha, the top-tier kind!"
Jude laughed, arm flopping over his forehead.
"Yeah, and I'll be pulling off world-class passes, scoring loads of goals, moving on to even bigger clubs."
Jobe looked at his brother, who, even in the dark of the room, still seemed to radiate some strange kind of pull.
"Playing for the England national team?"
"...Isn't that a bit much?"
Jobe shook his head quickly.
"Why would it be?"
This time, Jude turned to look at his little brother, then smiled softly.
"Thanks. I feel a bit more confident now."
"Hmph, instead of thanks, you should just hurry up and present already. I'm sick of you and Mom fighting all the time."
Jude burst out laughing and wrapped his arms around his brother, ignoring the way Jobe squirmed and complained that two grown boys hugging like this was disgustingly sappy.
"Alright, alright, once I've presented, I'll teach you all about Alpha rut, too. How to knot, and stuff…"
"Ewww! Don't you dare talk to me about that!"
The heavy topic of worries finally faded away, and the Bellingham brothers drifted into chatting about other small, trivial things, until exhaustion crept in and their eyelids grew heavy. Jobe said goodnight and climbed off Jude's bed, stumbling sleepily back toward his own side of the room.
Jobe curled up, just about to drift off, when he caught a strange, unfamiliar scent stirring in the small room - carrying sweet notes, something like honey.
"Jude..." Jobe rubbed his eyes, calling softly to his brother.
"Let me sleep, I've gotta get up early tomorrow, you know? Big match." Jude's voice came out even, steady, with no sign at all that he'd noticed anything different happening in the room.
Jobe thought about it for a moment, and in the end, decided not to say anything more, letting himself drift off into sleep.
But the honey scents still linger, never seeming to go away anytime soon.