Chapter Nine #2
Lysander settled into the existing shape of this core group.
Pete told a story about a boom mic falling into a river during a shoot in Kakadu that had the whole table crying with laughter, and Yumi showed Lysander photos of the colour grade she’d done on Hamish’s first documentary, which made Hamish cover his face with both hands and groan about how green the footage looked.
Dev asked Lysander what it was like to live in London with quiet, genuine interest, and Lysander found himself talking about Barking, the council flat he’d grown up in, and his dad’s cooking.
He didn’t usually offer those details to strangers, but Hamish’s friends all shared his talent for active listening and lively banter.
Cassian didn’t speak. He sat tucked against Hamish’s side with his hands in his lap and his plate barely touched, his eyes tracking the conversation like a spectator at a tennis match.
Every time someone addressed a question towards Hamish’s end of the table, Cassian drew closer to him.
Hamish’s hand drifted to Cassian’s back at one point, an absent, steadying touch, and Cassian’s eyes fluttered closed for a second before he caught himself.
Halfway through the main course, Hamish was recounting the time a wallaby had wandered into frame during a piece-to-camera he was shooting in the Yarra Valley, and he’d kept talking for a full thirty seconds before his cameraman had broken down laughing.
“In my defence,” Hamish said, “the wallaby was being very polite. It was just standing there, blinking at the camera. It was a better on-screen talent than most of my interview subjects, honestly.”
“You idiot,” Lysander said fondly.
Hamish’s smile made his eyes crinkle behind his glasses. He reached across the table, hooked his index finger around Lysander’s, and squeezed.
? ? ?
The cottage was quiet when they got home. Hamish disappeared down the hall to the bathroom, and Lysander heard the rattle of the pipes as the shower started up.
Cassian was standing in the kitchen doorway.
He had his arms folded across his chest and his chin tilted at the angle that Lysander had come to recognise as the prelude to an unsolicited opinion.
The pliant, watery-eyed creature from the car and the silent, clinging presence from the restaurant had both been sent off, now that there wasn’t an alpha to witness it.
“Lysander.” Cassian’s voice was stripped of the breathy softness it put on for Hamish. “I want to tell you something, because I like you, and I want you to have your alpha like how your father and your brother have theirs.”
Lysander braced himself for what was about to come.
“Alphas like it when we’re small and sweet.
” Cassian unfolded his arms and placed both hands on the kitchen island, his pale eyes steady on Lysander’s.
“That’s why Hamish takes care of me. That’s why he picked the raisins out of my muesli and gave me the front seat and put his hand on my back at dinner.
Because I make myself easy to protect.” He paused, letting that settle.
“You called him an idiot tonight. In front of his friends.”
“He was telling a funny story. I called him an idiot because he was being funny.”
“You can’t do that.” Cassian shook his head slowly, with the patient gravity of someone explaining a fundamental law of the universe to a child.
“An omega who calls his alpha an idiot is an omega who doesn’t understand his place in the Universe.
The alpha provides, and the omega receives, and we show our gratitude through softness.
Through smallness. Through making ourselves a vessel that he wants to pour himself into.
” His expression was perfectly earnest. “I’m trying to help you, Lysander. ”
Lysander pushed off from the counter and crossed the kitchen. Cassian flinched when Lysander reached for him, his body going rigid, his chin jerking sideways by reflex. The movement punched a hole clean through Lysander’s irritation and into something older and uglier underneath.
He tucked Cassian under his arm anyway, the way he’d done in the park, and held him there. Cassian stood stiff against his side, his eyes cast up at Lysander, wide and suspicious.
“You’ve seen all the photos of my father with his alpha, Diwa, right?”
Cassian nodded.
“I normally wouldn’t talk about this, Cass.
It’s my daddy’s story to tell, not mine.
But I think he’d be all right with me borrowing it just this once, so I can help you understand something really important.
” He tightened his arm around Cassian’s shoulders.
“When my father was very young, an alpha attacked him and got him pregnant with me and my brother. He was fourteen when we were born.”
Cassian’s hand came up and gripped the front of Lysander’s shirt. “What happened to the alpha?”
“Prison. But he wasn’t in there for anywhere near as long as he should have been.
” Lysander kept his voice steady. “My daddy raised us on his own, with absolutely no alpha help. He kept our family together, and he never once made himself smaller or softer for anyone through any of it. He was fierce. He filled the role of two parents so well that neither Stephen nor I ever felt a hole in our lives.” He looked down at the top of Cassian’s head.
“And when he met Diwa, he didn’t change.
Diwa appreciates that my daddy is cranky and tells it like it is, because Diwa’s a good alpha who understands that an omega doesn’t have to disappear into the will of his alpha. ”
Cassian was quiet. His grip on Lysander’s shirt hadn’t loosened.
“There are good alphas, Cassian, and there are bad ones. Hamish is one of the good ones. He’s trying to make you strong enough to stand on your own, but you won’t let him.
” Lysander’s thumb dug into the bony cap of Cassian’s shoulder.
“And that’s okay. The two of us will keep at it.
We’ll keep showing you that you don’t need an alpha to arrange your breakfast and run your bath and make every decision for you.
I think you already kind of understand that, because you got here to Hamish’s house on your own.
You made the decision to leave your husband.
You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for, Cass.
” He paused. “I see that. You give me the absolute shits, and I hate the way you are sometimes, but I’ll keep trying to show you how strong you are because you’re worth the bother to me. Okay?”
Cassian shook his head. “I wasn’t strong. I was just scared, so I ran.”
Lysander gave him a squeeze. “You were doing what you had to, just like my daddy did, and that’s why I know you’ll be fine. Because you’re being a fucking badass of an omega without even understanding that you are.”
Cassian’s hand came up and smacked Lysander lightly on the cheek. “Stop swearing, Sander.”
The name landed like a warm detonation. Lysander came in close enough that his mouth was nearly at Cassian’s ear, and dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Say it, Cass. Say you’re a fucking badass omega.”
Cassian’s mouth thinned. He shook his head, but his eyes were bright.
“Say it, and I’ll buy you so many turnovers tomorrow that you’ll be sick on the walk home.”
The calculation ran behind those eyes. Turnovers versus potential damnation by the Universe. Cassian’s mouth opened and closed. Then:
“I’m… a fucking badass omega,” he whispered.
Lysander laughed, pulled him close, and kissed his temple. “You really are, Cass.”