Alpha Assignment (BL) Chapter 54 (Early Access) (Patreon)

By the time Jordan arrived into the office, Quinn was usually an hour into his working day. Today, he was late, and it had all gone downhill from there.

“You seem a little… disorganised today,” Jordan told him. “Which I don’t mean as an insult, because it’s you.” He winced. “I mean that like someone would say, ‘you’re looking a little peaky.’”

“Right. Yeah.” Quinn was fumbling with the charger he had borrowed from one of the guys in IT support. He had left home with a dead smart watch strapped to his wrist.

“Quinn.”

“Hmm?” When he looked up, Jordan was leaning over their desks with concern in his eyes.

“Maybe get a coffee and a snack.”

“Maybe.” Quinn was not a fan of the office’s instant coffee that had been whittled away at from the same jar for months. But something to eat would probably help his head. It was foggy and cluttered with things to think about these days - he had lost control and there was no way to take it back.

Eveline and her growing box of paperwork were at the forefront of his thoughts, piling up more and more with each passing day. Any interaction with the Assembly had his hackles up, and now their application was posted… it was a waiting game. Since then, Eveline was working on other motions and law filings - extra coverage to protect them, Quinn believed, although he didn’t understand most of it. Still, Eveline continued to update him, treating him like the alpha of the house. Wes… had been quiet since their talk… and that’s the best Quinn could hope for at this point, so he decided not to worry too much about him. And then there was Remi, who should be the only important topic on his brain at any time, who could only see the wonderful. He was getting his own Sanctuary, just about, and Christmas was coming, and now he wasn’t alone all day while Quinn worked…

A twist of guilt grabbed his stomach, a horrible little thought that maybe, if Quinn had spent more time with him, they wouldn’t be in the midst of a mess of legal filings with the one organisation Quinn wanted to avoid for all of his life.

“You’ve been staring into your backpack for, like, five minutes.”

Quinn blinked. His backpack was unzipped between his knees, and was almost empty of items. He had not packed his lunch.

“I forgot my lunch,” he admitted, more so to the bag than to Jordan.

“I love an excuse to luncheon, let’s go.” Jordan was out of his seat, bag over his shoulder quicker than Quinn could look up.

“It’s barely midday,” he argued weakly.

“Come on, I know a place that does lovely espressos.”

Quinn sighed and stood, still feigning reluctance. “In that case…”

They took a secluded booth in an almost-empty café, and Jordan ordered a pair of coffees before they had even received the menus. The waitress placed two sheets on the table and left to fire up the espresso machine.

“So, respectfully, what the fuck is up with you?” Jordan asked from behind his menu, as though enquiring as to whether burrata sounded good.

“It’s… been quite chaotic at home.”

Jordan lowered the menu to cut his eyes over it. “Oh?”

“I’ll try to explain, but let’s get our food decided first.” His stomach gurgled. “So that we’re not interrupted.”

Jordan grinned. “Of course.”

One ciabatta and fries and one chicken salad later, Jordan was curled in his seat with his hands over his stomach.

“I think opening up your home to ex-culties is a nice thing to do.”

“It’s got risks, though.” Quinn frowned down at their after-meal coffees. “If we don’t get approved, and I’m found harbouring all these… fugitives under my roof, then I’ll be knee-deep in shit.” And so would Remi.

Jordan wriggled a little, trying to get comfortable with his newly distended stomach. “Why would the government not want you to have this special Sanctuary permission?” he asked, before forcing an extra fry from his pushed-back plate into his mouth. After a few chews he added, “It sounds like you’re doing their job for them.”

“The cult… has more power than I think people would like to admit.”

“Oh, they’re in the pockets of MPs and stuff?”

“I don’t know all the details.” And Quinn still struggled to remember the difference between MP and PM, so it would be no use trying to make up details. “But permission is hardly ever given, your paperwork has to be perfect and any reason they have to deny you, they will.”

“But this Eveline gal sounds very on top of things.”

“She’s… eager, and knows the inner-workings. If anyone could get the seal of approval for us, I’d bet on her.” There he went, getting ahead of himself again. “But still, it’s not guaranteed.”

Jordan nodded, thoughtful for a moment. “I guess, outside of not getting approved, the only downside I can see here is you losing your privacy,” he said slowly. “You have a really nice house, but I don’t see how you could keep an area that’s all yours and Rem’s. Communal living, especially with ex-cult-members could easily become cult-like, no?”

“This is another fear I have,” Quinn admitted with a sigh. “Already, Eveline, and to a much smaller degree, Wes, treat me like I’m the leader.”

“Because you were a high rank, right?”

“Highest there is without being in the Assembly.”

“And the Assembly is like the evil wizard’s council?”

“Sure.”

“And you can’t build a little outhouse or something to separate yourselves?” A small smile had returned. The thought amusing to Jordan.

“No… but I’ve been looking at some other options…” Quinn twiddled his spoon in his fresh coffee, despite not adding anything to it.

“Oh?”

“I haven’t discussed it with Remi, and it’s all just an idea really…”

Jordan tapped the table with his hands in a drumbeat. “Stop teasing and tell me!”

“You remember when you said I could get a lot more space for my money outside the city, somewhere more rural?”

“Yessss?”

“I’ve been… browsing.”

Jordan’s face lit up and he slid round the booth like a bolt of lightning. “Show me.”

Quinn dug his phone out of his bag and began a presentation of some saved links, sliding through photos of farms with multiple outbuildings, acres of land, most in a state of abandonment.

“It would take some serious funds that I don’t currently have…”

“And you’d be too far out to come into the office as often as you do now…” Jordan murmured, his excitement dulled just a bit.

“Yeah, but… I think they’re feeling pretty flexible with me since they thought I was planning to resign.”

Jordan’s face flicked up and away from the screen, worried. “You’re not, are you?”

“No!” Quinn chuckled. “I was stressed over Remi-related things and I guess management noticed…”

“You did have us worried for a while there… actually, I’m still worried.”

They shared soft looks, a joint flow of concern for each other. Quinn still worried for Jordan, regularly.

“Anyway, it’s all a far-off dream - we haven’t even been approved for our current house, yet.” He laughed awkwardly and put the phone away. He was getting well-ahead of himself… but it was nice to fantasise of open space, paws in dirt, his mate by his side…

“Well, if there’s anything I can help with…” Jordan said, sipping the last of his after-lunch latte.

“I know, thanks.”

As Quinn shelved his coat and shoes at the front door at the end of his day, a warm scent brushed his nose; it had filled the entire ground floor. Even better, was the noise filling the same space. As he crept through the living room, a trio of voices got louder.

Remi the ringleader, directing his charges around the kitchen.

Eveline the chef’s assistant, obediently following the alpha mate’s orders.

Wes the dishwasher, splashes punctuating his compliments and chat.

They smelled him just before he opened the kitchen door, slightly startled and pink-faced. Wes turned square to the sink, Eveline buried her face in the steam coming up from the pot she was minding. Remi slouched over the flour-dusted island and winked. Quinn grinned back and left them to it, he needed a shower before he could be put to work, too.