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George is fuming, when he comes home. He is in a white linen shirt and a pair of jeans in which his butt looks great, stripping outside the bathroom door, and kissing Charles before going. Charles lets it all be for now. George’s emotions are boiling but the anger is targeted at something or someone else, not Charles.
Charles puts the clothes away to wait for wash, and leaves out a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt ready for George.
Charles goes to the bedroom, getting ready for the night in the en-suite bathroom. He crouches down to give pats to Leo who is resting in his own dog bed, and slides under the blankets, leaving the left side open for George’s return. Charles’ nightstand only holds his phone on top of it while George has an empty glass of water, two books, tissues, a notepad, and a pen on his.
Soon his partner is joining him, swapping the glass to a fresh one before lying down, his scent sweet under his shower gel and shampoo. George snuggles close, giving Charles a demanding look.
”Can you hold me?”
Of course he can. Charles presses a kiss in his lover’s hair, and turns the lights off.
The next morning they get up early, George wanting to have a swim before breakfast, and Charles is happy to follow his lead. Joining the private pool club nearby had been a clever idea, and it’s pleasant this early, only a few other people being around.
They walk back home, the scent of chlorine still in their noses, and stop at the grocery store for some breakfast things.
At their table, between bites of freshly baked bread George is ready to talk about last night.
”You know I was out with the boys.” ”The boys” is a flexible term in their language and social circle. Max, Daniel, Lando, maybe Oscar, Alex? Charles is going through the scents he had picked on George about twelve hours earlier.
”Sometimes I just can’t stand alphas. You know Max likes putting his foot in his mouth and he is not always the best combination with Daniel.”
Yes, he has witnessed that too. Max and Daniel both are good friends to them both, but sometimes it’s just much.
”I don’t know how the talk went to our relationships. Someone made a comment, then another. Then they were talking about how hot it would be watching us. How it’s so unique and sexy to have two omegas together. Like we wouldn’t be more than a porn show.” The sound on his lover’s lips is very close to a sob.
”Love, shh…” Charles gets up and sits down next to George, gently embracing him, one hand on the omega’s back, the other on his hip. ”It was stupid alpha talk. I’m sure they are already regretting it.”
”Yeah, I know. Sometimes I’m just so tired of everyone having an opinion of us.” Charles gets it. He hasn’t experienced it, but he gets it. People’s opinions fly past him, and he doesn’t allow them really enter his mind, but he wants to protect George and his fragile peace. It's rare alright, wanting similar, when the society tells him to want different, and Charles has never met another omega pair, but he owns himself and his love story.
Just on that moment his phone rings. Charles picks it up, seeing the number of their building concierge.
”I’ll go and pick up our delivery. I think it might be the apology arriving.”
Charles had been right. It’s a massive gift set, an arrangement of flowers, good quality snacks, their favourites, and some new things to test, a set of different teas, and a couple of new blankets. He has to make two trips to get everything inside.
”What do you say, love? They can be jerks, but they are our friends.”
George laughs at the sight of the apology, eyes a little wet, but the sound honest.