Alpha Assignment (BL) Chapter 24 (Early Access) (Patreon)

On Friday, a storm blew into the county. Quinn and Jordan watched the weather worsen from their desks, Jordan checking hourly the status of his train and bus. By lunchtime, both had been cancelled, and so had every other service heading his way home.

He cursed at his screen and slumped back in his chair. "Getting a taxi in this weather is going to be a nightmare, I might as well start walking now."

"I would offer to take you but I don't think it's safe to be driving in weather like that," Quinn said, full of apology. "I'm barely fifteen minutes away and even I'm weighing up if I should leave now or wait it out. If it gets worse..."

"Remi might be stuck at home alone," Jordan finished for him.

"Yeah..."

"The weather forecast online is no help, so I guess we're on our own to work out what to do." Jordan licked his finger and stuck it in the air. After a few seconds, shushing Quinn every time he tried to interrupt, he drew it back down and announced, "Magic finger says we cut our losses and go home."

Quinn sighed and looked out the window again. The rain was coming down in sheets, and thunder and lightning had been raging all day.

"Fuck’s sake," Jordan groaned, throwing his head back and dropping his phone to the desk. "No taxis on my app. Not even a 'please wait' message, just a straight no. I have a great rating!"

"You could have a perfect rating, it's not going to convince people to drive in this."

Jordan slunk down in his chair. "Guess I'm sleeping here tonight."

"Look, the moment it clears up a little, I'm leaving,” Quinn admitted. “I can't risk Remi being left alone too long. You are more than welcome to come home with me and stay the night." They had a sofa, Hell, he'd let Jordan take his bed and he'd gladly sleep on the sofa after all of the support he'd given him lately. He was a true friend, and Quinn was just grateful to have one of those in the human world. "I can drive you home in the morning once the storm has passed."

Jordan hesitated. "Are you sure?"

"Of course, I'm not going to leave you sleeping in here tonight. Unless you want-"

"No, thank you. Your house sounds great."

Quinn texted Remi to warn him of the arrangement. After half an hour with no response, he assumed the phone had been left somewhere again and sent him an Assistant message instead. The reply was instantaneous.

Ok.

OK? That was it? Quinn bit his lip. Remi was probably freaking out.

Jordan is the friend from work that helped me look for you when you ran away. He's very nice. I promise you will be completely safe with him staying the night.

A minute later, a reply from Assistant arrived to his phone.

Ok. Thank you.

Quinn grimaced.

“Remi not happy with me?”

“No, he seems… unnaturally okay with it.”

"Huh. Okay, well I'm going to go hunt some food since some of us aren't organised enough to home-cook every day." Jordan loped off, probably to raid every vending machine in the building.

Quinn rolled his eyes and returned to his work, determined to get something done before they cut out early. A short while later, a quiet commotion from beyond their office raised Quinn's head.

Bounding through the doors came a sopping-wet Jordan.

“You went outside?" Quinn gasped. "You’ll catch your death!”

“Can’t turn up to a friend’s house empty-handed!” Jordan laughed, opening the plastic bag tucked under his armpit to show vacuum-sealed cheese wedges and bottles of wine. “Corner shop doesn’t offer the widest selection so I hope Remi likes his booze cheap.”

He refused the handfuls of paper towels Quinn offered him, explaining he’ll only get drenched again on the way to the car. Quinn grimaced at the window, resigned to the fact that the weather wasn’t getting any better.

“Let’s go, then.”

Fifteen minutes of driving was not enough for the car heating system to dry them, but soon enough they were back out in the storm anyway, hurrying across Quinn’s drive.

“Nice place!” Jordan yelled over the rain.

“Thanks!” Quinn yelled back, fumbling his slippery keys in the lock. On his third embarrassing attempt, the door opened before he could touch the lock. Remi stepped back to allow them in and the pair thanked him loudly. With the door shut behind them, they could finally hear themselves again.

Jordan brushed past Quinn, their jackets sticking together as he went, to offer a hand to Remi. “Hi, you must be Remi. Quinn has told me so much about you.” That was not true but Remi didn’t question it. He accepted Jordan’s hand with both of his own, as was more common for werewolf culture, particularly lower ranks, omegas, to uppers, like alphas and betas.

“Hello, Jordan. Quinn talks about you a lot, too.” Also not true, but Quinn was bursting with pride at how easily Remi had replicated Jordan in order to assimilate. He could make it among the humans, yet!

Jordan grinned and secured his other hand over the shake, mimicking Remi, and completely unaware that he had just declared himself Remi’s equal, a fellow low-rank.

“Let’s get dry and we can decide on dinner,” Quinn announced, breaking the men’s hand-and-smile trance. As only an alpha would, he thought bitterly.

“I left fresh towels on the sofa and dinner is in the oven,” Remi said. “I hope chicken is okay?” Jordan’s expression showed chicken was very much okay. Quinn led the sopping march to the living room.

“Jordan,” Remi croaked. His face flushed and he went to try again, but Jordan had already answered, pretending not to notice the crack in Remi’s voice. “You’re welcome to use my bathroom to shower, it will warm you up quicker.”

Jordan hesitated. “Are you sure?”

“Great idea, Remi,” said Quinn. “I’ve got plenty of clothes, I’m sure we’ll find something you can wear for the night.”

“You mean you don’t just own white t-shirts and grey trousers?” Jordan teased.

Quinn rolled his eyes and nodded back out to the hallway, leading Jordan up the stairs. Remi stayed on the ground floor, monitoring dinner.

The smell when they descended again, clean, dry, and both in tees and shorts, had both their stomachs growling. They laughed awkwardly and hurried to the kitchen. Remi was stirring a pot of vegetables inside.

“You left a bag by the door with cheese inside, so I put it in the fridge to keep it fresh,” Remi said in greeting over his shoulder.

“Oh shit!” Jordan gasped. “I forgot about that. Yeah, the cheese and wine are gifts, to thank you both for having me.” He nodded at Remi. “Do you partake?”

Remi abandoned his pot to turn to face the pair fully. He blinked and glanced at Quinn for a translation.

“Do you drink alcohol, Remi?”

“Oh, um, I haven’t before.”

“Really?” Jordan leant towards him over the island counter. “Not even on your eighteenth birthday? Are you underage?”

Remi tilted his head, he wouldn’t know what the legal drinking age was. He simply answered, “I'm twenty-three.”

“Wow, is that… part of it?” Jordan peered over at Quinn, checking if he was crossing a line.

“It depends on the… division, I think,” Quinn explained, careful in word choice for the sake of everyone in the room. “But Remi, you’re welcome to try if you want to.”

“Will you drink alcohol?” Remi asked.

“No, I’m not a fan.” Alphas did get to partake, and Quinn hadn't once enjoyed it.

“That and he's, you know, of the age-” Jordan winked at Remi, revelling in their shared youth. “-where people start to get hangovers.”

“You’re twenty-five,” Quinn reminded him.

“Yeah, so I’ve only got one year left until I’m of that age!” Jordan added to Remi in an exaggerated whisper, “Ancient!”

Remi’s smile was mild in response, his fingers doing the twisty thing they did when he was nervous or couldn’t make sense of a situation.

“Don’t feel pressured,” Jordan said with palms up and an easy smile. “Wine is-”

“I want to!” Remi yelped. “Um, please.”

“I’ll go get the bottles, then,” Jordan said slowly, glancing at Quinn for additional permission before he actually left the room. Quinn smiled and nodded, it was Remi’s decision. And he was safe at home, the worst that could happen was a headache.

Quinn dug through one of the top cupboards for appropriate glassware. He didn't have anything made to hold alcohol, but some round glasses would do. The oven timer rang and Remi took out the chicken. Between the three of them, they had the dinner tabled dressed and ready for a fine meal in a matter of minutes.

As they ate, Jordan gave Remi a beginner's class on how to drink wine. Sniffing and swishing and sipping. The concentration was intense, and a few times Quinn had to catch Remi's eye and nod to his cooling chicken to remind him to keep eating. He was last to clear his plate, but first to have cleared his glass. Jordan topped him up with a warning of what 'wine drunk' meant.

Quinn excused himself to give his bedroom and en suite a quick clean before Jordan went to bed. Jordan offered to do the dishes, Remi offered to dry. Quinn decided not to remind either that he had a dishwasher. It would give them something to do instead of waiting awkwardly for Quinn to come back.

When he did, he was relieved to hear quiet conversation taking place on the other side of the closed kitchen door. Quinn tried not to listen in, but wolf ears were a little too strong for one swinging door to block.

"-tips for me?"

"Tips?" Remi repeated. There was a splash sound.

"Yeah, like what can I do to try and make it happen? You know him, I mean, you live with him. What does he like? Does he talk about anyone special? Does he have a type? I'll take anything, Rem."

"Um..."

There was a long pause.

"He never talks about those things. I think he's happy like this."

"Without a partner? Does that worry you?"

Quinn's stomach twisted, but he held still, unable to stop listening.

"Worry me?"

"As his friend, that he's alone."

The twist turned painful, and a little sickly. Alone. That was how he looked to the humans, then. How pathetic.

"I guess I didn't really think of it that way," Remi answered carefully. "I don't really know how these things work... in your world."

"Oh. Sorry. We, um, we ask people to go out if we like them. We go on dates, doing things together, just the two of us, and then if we enjoy it we keep doing it. And then one day, if we've been a couple for a long time, we get married."

"And you want to get married with Quinn?"

Quinn choked on his own saliva and slapped a hand over his mouth.

"W-well, that's- um, a bit early to say."

"Have you asked him?"

"To marry me? Not unless I was very drunk."

"No, I mean to going out."

"Oh. No."

"Why not?" Remi inquired innocently.

Quinn dragged the palm from his mouth to his neck in place of a groan.

"I don't know if he'll say yes. He isn't exactly easy to read. And if he says no, and we have to keep working together, it would be so awkward." The plug was pulled in the sink, and Jordan sighed. "So the options are living happily ever after with Quinn, or losing a job I really like and a friend at the same time."

"I wish I had some tips," Remi whispered.

"It's okay, I probably shouldn't have asked you anyway.” Jordan sounded… almost guilty. “That was rude."

"I don't think so. It was interesting for me."

Footsteps approached the door and Quinn launched himself back to the bottom of the stairs, pretending to have just arrived in the living room when they came out.