Alpha Assignment (BL) Chapter 19 (Early Access) (Patreon)

"Fuck!" Quinn yelled, jumping half a foot into the air. "Assistant, lights on!"

Every light in the house came on, burning Quinn's pupils momentarily, and the possessed-plushie-looking-thing on his sofa morphed into Remi.

"Remi?! What the hell are you doing?" He didn't mean to shout, but his heart was racing and his ears were pounding and his brain was still coming to terms with the fact that Remi was not an intruder.

The wobbling ceased immediately, and it somehow unsettled Quinn even more, Remi's posture snapping rod-straight. He slipped off the sofa cushion, standing to attention beneath Quinn.

"A-Alpha, I-" He sounded breathless, his eyes welling. Confusion was clear in the creases of his brows.

"Hey, it's okay," Quinn whispered. He pushed gently at Remi's shoulders to seat him back on the sofa. Of course, Remi obliged. "You gave me a scare." He laughed awkwardly and Remi didn't join in. "I'm sorry for shouting, I didn't mean it."

"I'm sorry, Alpha!” Remi’s voice was hoarse, tears barely restrained. “I was trying to be good, I swear."

"By camping out in the living room?" Quinn asked, attempting to lighten the mood.

"I was waiting for my alpha."

"Remi." Quinn heard how gruff he sounded and took a slow breath before trying again. "Remi, I told you I would be home late, you did not need to wait for me."

"An omega must-"

"No." Something snapped, something deep in Quinn's mind. Maybe it was the after-effects of a great day spent with humans - normal people. Maybe it was the after-shock of the scare Remi had given him when he walked in. Or maybe this had been waiting for a trigger since Remi arrived. "I am sick of these rules and regulations," Quinn growled, low and slow. "And I can't ignore you playing them out under my roof anymore. Enough, Remi."

"I don't understand, Alpha."

"You don't understand? How do you think I feel? I came home to you hiding in the dark!"

"An omega should not use energy resources while their alpha is away unless for alpha-ordered activities,” Remi bleated before Quinn could stop him. “It is a waste!"

Quinn felt his eye twitch. The pause that held them for the next few seconds was filled entirely with Quinn fighting to keep any semblance of calm. "Remi, what have you been doing while I'm at work all day?"

"Cooking and cleaning and waiting, Alpha."

"And tonight? You cooked and cleaned and waited?"

"There was no cleaning I hadn't already done, Alpha, and I didn't need to cook since you wouldn’t be having dinner here."

"What about your dinner?"

Remi tilted his head with a pout, like a puppy confused at a command.

"What about lunch?"

The same look.

"Remi, I need an answer here." His frustration was burning under his skin, as though his fur were threatening to show itself. "When I am not here, do you eat?"

"I eat the breakfast that Alpha leaves in the fridge," Remi answered proudly.

The words shot from Quinn's mouth without thought. "Go to bed, please." A quiet demand, for the quiet Quinn needed. He needed a moment, without big wet eyes staring up at him, to come to terms with their current situation.

Remi jolted, nodded, and hurried from the room, leaving Quinn bent at the waist where he had leant in without thinking. Forced himself into Remi's personal space, interrogated him, and then sent him to bed like he was his father - worse, his alpha. Quinn dug his fingers into his hair and pulled to keep from exploding with expletives.

It was too late to call him back - that would only be another order anyway. Instead, he stomped to the kitchen, plated a simple dinner of a sandwich and chopped veggies, and delivered it to Remi’s bedroom door. The door didn’t open when he knocked, and Quinn was too overwhelmed to confront Remi again, so he left the dinner on the carpet and took himself to bed. They could talk it out again when they had both calmed down.

The plate hadn’t been touched when Quinn passed it on his way out to work. He ignored it. His thoughts still weren’t in order. He hoped sleep would give him a solution, a way of explaining his feelings to Remi that he would understand. Instead, he woke up every hour feeling frustrated, and getting more annoyed the more often his sleep was interrupted.

His foul mood was noticed immediately by Jordan, who spent the morning tiptoeing around him. Half the things he said Quinn missed, lost in his own problems, and had to keep asking him to repeat himself.

“I said, I’m worried about you, Quinn.”

“I’m fine.”

Jordan folded his arms over his chest and gave Quinn a scathing look over their computer screens.

Quinn sighed. “It’s personal stuff. Not office-appropriate.”

“Why don’t we go out for lunch? Somewhere with a bit more privacy?”

The thought of sharing his burden sounded freeing… maybe even productive… but Jordan was human. He could never understand or relate to the issues Quinn was facing.

“Come on, you’ll feel better - even if you keep the juicy details to yourself.”

Quinn scowled at his keyboard, sighed, and stood. “Okay.”

Jordan chose the restaurant, leading the way on a short walk from the office. In the awkward silences between arriving and ordering, Quinn’s brain was waging war over what to say, how to say it, how much to reveal. He wanted to talk about it, but there was so much he couldn’t say.

“So, what’s going on?”

Quinn’s brain fell silent. He struggled to form any words at all for a few moments.

“My friend and I had an argument last night.”

Jordan’s brows raised. “They’re staying over again?”

“He’s been staying for a while.” After a long and uncertain pause, Quinn added, “he’s got nowhere else to go.”

“I’m sorry to hear it. Did he lose his job?”

Quinn fiddled with the cutlery on the table. “No…”

“You don’t have to tell me his business-”

“He was in a cult.” The sort-of-lie was out of his mouth before Quinn could weigh up the consequences.

Jordan’s brows somehow reached even higher up his head. “Oh.”

“And now… we keep getting into fights because he’s struggling to let go of that way of life.”

“Quick context question, and don’t feel forced to answer cause it’s kinda personal… “ Jordan dropped his eyes to the table for a moment before glancing up through his lashes, cautious. “But were you also in a cult?”

A long silence sat on the table between them. Quinn’s fight or flight response felt like it was whirring into action. Panic was going to completely overtake him if he didn’t find something, anything, to say now.

“Is it obvious?” Quinn breathed.

“No, I hadn’t considered it until you mentioned the cult just then.” His kind expression had just a hint of pity. Quinn supposed he’d probably look the same way at such news. “But suddenly a lot of things make sense. Like, finally, a reasonable explanation for why you didn’t know who Claudia Winkleman is.”

“The one… with the fringe?”

Jordan nodded with a proud smile.

Quinn leant in closer across the small square table. “Do you think other people suspect there’s something wrong with me?”

“Nah. When people ask where you’re from you always say the countryside, and we all know people from the countryside can be a bit behind the trends and celebrities.” Jordan sipped his water and shrugged. “They think you’re sheltered, but there’s nothing wrong with that.”

Quinn stared down at his napkin and twiddled it between his fingers as he turned Jordan’s words over in his mind.

“So, what’s your friend struggling with? I mean, I’m sure there’s lots of traumatic shit he’s working through, but what are you guys fighting about specifically?”

As the human saying goes: in for a penny, in for a pound. And Quinn had already thrown in his penny by revealing the ‘cult’ of werewolf culture.

“It’s the way he treats me, like I’m his new… cult leader. He acts like he wants to still be in that position of someone else telling him what to do. I feel like I have to be so careful with anything I say to him because he takes advice as orders and suggestions as fact. I know that it’s difficult for him to transition away from that… lifestyle. But I won’t be forced into becoming the dictator of the house just because he feels more comfortable with that dynamic.”

Jordan nodded slowly. “I understand why that would be tough for you, but being an adult sucks, and having to learn to suddenly be responsible for yourself and your decisions with no prior experience must be a real brain fuck for your friend. How did you adapt so well?”

“My… family were higher up in the command chain, so to speak. I still had a lot of decisions made for me throughout my life, but nothing like the level that my friend would have faced.”

“And how long is he staying with you?”

“That’s a good question,” Quinn laughed to himself, shaking his head. “There’s a… government group that decides where people from these cults go, but it’s been heavily implied that they don’t expect to find anywhere else for him. I told them I can’t house him long-term but they don’t care now they’ve offloaded him onto me.” And now I wouldn’t want to give him back, he added in the safety of his own head.

“And he can’t be given somewhere to live by himself? Even like a hotel room or someth-”

“Oh, fuck no. He’s petrified of-” He almost said humans. “-people outside of the cult. Left to his own he’d probably starve.”

Jordan pinched his lips in a pitiful look.

“They grow all their own food,” Quinn added in unnecessary explanation. Unused to discussing his background, even under the protection of his self-appointed code words, with someone human. “So he’s never seen a supermarket.”

“Wow.” The ‘o’ sound was drawn out as Jordan slumped back in his seat, eyes unfocused as though trying to imagine a world without aisles and aisles of pre-packaged products.

“I want to take him to one. I want to show him so many things. Restaurants and cinemas and aquariums and all the cool things that exist outside of the cult. But it’s difficult when I feel like I can’t trust him to not draw attention to us outside of the house.”

“What kind of things does he do? You said he’s overly obedient to things you say but is that noticeable?”

“He’s… very sensitive to me as well. I think it’s all part of him waiting for orders or direction. If he thinks I’m upset with him he completely breaks down. He also can’t hide his shock at the outside world all that well. Deer in the headlights.”

“Sunglasses?”

“October is a few days away. We’re trying not to draw attention to ourselves.”

“Get him a suit and pretend he’s a Blues Brother for Halloween.”

Quinn stared at him.

“You haven’t seen The Blues Brothers?”

Quinn scrunched his mouth and shook his head.

“Okay. And not to suggest the obvious, but you’ve tried having a frank conversation about this with him?”

“From the moment he arrived I made it clear I’m not comfortable with those… roles.”

“And what exactly happened last night?”

“I got home and all the lights were off. I figured he was in bed since it was late, but when I got in he was sat on the sofa in the dark.”

“That’s creepy.”

“Yeah, and he’s really small so he looks like a doll in the dark.”

Jordan shuddered. “That’s doubly creepy. Why was he sitting in the dark?”

“Without me there to decide when to go to bed, he just sat and waited for me.”

Jordan sucked an uncomfortable breath in through his teeth, but didn’t interrupt.

“He said his… leader didn’t let him turn on anything electronic without explicit orders. And then I just lost it because that meant every day I’ve come to the office he’s probably just sat on the sofa, completely still, waiting for me to come home and give him direction.”

“Quinn-”

“He didn’t eat, Jordan. I checked the fridge, the cupboards, the dishwasher, no sign that he’d eaten a thing all day. He’s only been eating the breakfasts I make for him and the dinners we cook together. No lunch - for weeks. And somehow he’s gained weight.”

The waitress awkwardly shuffled in with their plates, doing her best not to disrupt the tension of the conversation, and hurried away. Quinn stabbed a bunch of leaves and shoved them in his mouth, partly to shut himself up. He was revealing too much, yet, Jordan was right - he did feel a little better already.

Jordan paid his own lunch no mind. “And then you fought?”

“I snapped and sent him to bed like I was his father.” Quinn’s face heated at the memory. “Then I stood in my living room feeling like a fucking fool. I wanted to tell him to come back, but that would be giving him another order. It was only after he went to bed that I checked the fridge and stuff. I took food up to him and left it on a tray outside his door, then I went to bed.”

“Did you see him before you left for work?”

“No, he’s not a morning person.”

“So he’s probably sat on that sofa, right now, stewing on this until you get back?”

“Shit,” Quinn muttered.

“Go home, make up, and lunch is on you next time.” He shooed Quinn with his fork. “Don’t judge me for finishing that entire salmon fillet left on your plate.”

“You deserve it,” Quinn chuckled as he pried himself from the tiny dining chair. “Thanks, Jordan, this really helped. And… it stays between us - the cult stuff, right?”

Jordan nodded through a mouthful of salmon, jabbing his fork in the direction of the door.