Alpha Assignment (BL) Chapter 45 (Early Access) (Patreon)

Leaving Nurse Remi and his patient alone while Quinn headed to the office felt like that very first day when Quinn left for work after Remi arrived. All of the situations that could go wrong wracked his mind throughout his commute. The  stereo stayed off.

He had a brief period of calm at his desk, as others in the office filed in group by group, and then, back of the pack, Jordan appeared: bundled to the top of his head in knitted garments of various colours. He practically skipped to their section, mouth slightly parted as though he couldn’t hold in all of the words straining to spew out.

Before he could bombard Quinn with questions, Quinn held aloft a gift bag. “Your clothes.”

“Oh!” Jordan glanced over his shoulder, and Quinn suddenly realised maybe announcing the sharing of clothes wasn’t appropriate in a work setting. Jordan took the bag, confident that the area was clear.

“Thanks!” He smiled, a little guilty. “Yours are midway through my laundry basket,” he admitted.

“Don’t worry, there’s no rush.”

Jordan sunk into his seat and began unravelling his woolly barrier against the November chill. “How’s your friend?” he asked, so casual and easy that Quinn temporarily forgot that Jordan had even met Wes. A solid poker face was not something Quinn would have attributed to Jordan.

“He’s okay. Resting a lot. Remi is fussing over him.”

“He’s a sweetheart.” Jordan sighed. “I’m so glad Wes was okay after dipping from the hospital.” He layered his outer clothes over the back of his seat. “I got a call about it.”

Quinn fought not to show how rattled those last six words had made him. “Oh?”

Leaning over the crack between their desks, Jordan lowered his voice to a whisper. “The police wanted to check what happened when he up and left the hospital. I told them exactly what I told the nurses and they said they’d be back in contact if they heard anything.”

A long, slow breath slipped out between Quinn’s pursed lips. “That’s good.” At least, he hoped it was. “It’s all over with, then.”

“What will happen to him now?”

“We’re letting him rest up with us.” There was no point mentioning the great duress Quinn was under to allow it. “Once he’s well again, the government will find somewhere for him,” he lied.

Jordan nodded, serious.

“He said something about you.”

A surprised blink. “Really? He didn’t say anything to me.”

“That your phone was ringing non-stop in the hospital.”

“Ah-”

“And when you picked it up, the person on the other end wasn’t being very… patient.”

“Y-yeah.”

They stared each other down for a moment. “Is that person Jay?” Quinn asked.

Jordan hesitated. “Yeah.”

Phones buzzed, the printer whirred angrily at being expected to print, and everyone else in their widely-spread office continued with their work. Quinn didn’t ask the question they both knew he wanted the answer to. Instead, he waited.

After only a couple of minutes, Jordan cracked.

“Things got serious faster than I expected,” he said, ultra-soft. “I like him… but he’s very intense. You think that a possessive partner is hot until they start having an issue with you rather than other people.”

Quinn had no experience to agree or disagree, so he kept his mouth shut. As an alpha, he was expected to be the possessive party in a relationship, but he’d never been in a relationship that was serious enough to warrant worrying over someone else’s behaviour or interest… Well, now he had Remi. Just as Jordan put it, though, Quinn could only see himself behaving possessively if someone else was making a move on his mate. He trusted Remi’s affections not to stray. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have asked him to be his mate.

“I really like him,” Jordan said again, as though to convince them both. “We’ll work it out, so take that scowl off your face.” He winked and Quinn blinked back. It was difficult to force a neutral expression, but he attempted, for Jordan’s sake.

“Okay. If it doesn’t work out, though, let me know.”

Jordan nodded and the conversation slipped easily into work topics. Quinn just about upheld his end, while impatient for midday. The earliest that an office worker could take their lunch without being branded a psychopath.

When the clock hands settled in a stack at twelve, Quinn hopped up, ceremoniously laying his tupperware on his desk, and muttered something about needing paper towel from the kitchen. Before Jordan could ask him to bring anything back, he strode away. Straight through the open-plan communal kitchen he stalked, and to the opposite end of the floor that their company took up. This side included the office for accounts.

A polite knock, and Quinn ducked his head into the room. It was lacking the murmur of conversation that the other areas had, only a radio on the lowest possible volume brought any noise to the hidden team. Ultimate quiet was a requirement when dealing with the company’s funds. All heads lifted, some appraised him with recognition. Probably from team bonding activities, since Quinn’s department had no overlap with finance outside of reporting and predicting spend in relation to micro-trends.

“Jay?” Quinn said to the man in the back corner. “Could I have a minute?”

Jay hesitated, glanced around his colleagues, and decided not to kick up a fuss. He followed Quinn back out into the corridor, it was empty bar a fake plant whose pot clashed with the beige walls. He shut the door behind him, blocking the silent audience.

“Invoices don’t pass your desk,” Jay said in place of asking why Quinn wanted to speak with him.

Quinn admitted, “They don’t.”

“Then what business do you have with acc-”

“You need to calm down, both with me and with Jordan.” Jay’s eyes flashed, but before he could argue, Quinn continued, “I’m not your enemy, yet, and you don’t want me to be.”

“You wanna threaten me?” Jay scoffed. “I’ll go to HR!”

“You think this building is the only place I’d beat your ass?” Quinn looked him up and down, slow. “Stop rushing Jordan, he deserves to be treated with love and respect. For some reason, he likes you, so stop getting in your own way by acting like a dick.”

“You’re a dick,” Jay grumbled.

Quinn raised a brow and turned away. He’d said all that he intended to, and would still have time to eat the chilli and pumpkin bread that Remi had prepared for him.

When he dropped back into his wheelie chair, Jordan reminded him, “Paper towels?”

“Uh, all out.”

Usually, Quinn would hurry home on a Tuesday to be ready to head back out again for their painting class. Today, he already knew that wasn’t happening before he loped through the front door, a weight falling on his back as he returned to the crime scene that was his house.

“He’s still feverish,” Remi called as he hopped down the stairs.

“Hello to you, too,” Quinn mumbled.

Remi looked up at him from the bottom step, puppy eyes on full beam.

“Sorry.” He kissed Remi’s forehead and pulled off his shoes. “How was your day?”

“Full of worry,” Remi answered with a sigh. “Wes’ wounds have closed but I think he’s fighting some kind of infection.”

Quinn dropped his backpack and hung his coat. Gently, he told him, “We can’t take him back to the hospital, they’ll be on high alert.”

“No, we’ll just have to do what we can ourselves.” It sounded like Remi was talking more to himself, his gaze dropped, and his mind turning over remedies he could try.

“Just tell me what I can do, and I will.” And he meant it, although only for Remi’s sake.

The evening they should have spent painting had Quinn running bowls of water up and down the stairs, putting on loads of sweat-soaked laundry, and a late-night supermarket run for herbs, oils, and powders that Remi had specified were antibacterial… or antiseptic… or antisomething…

Either way, it was expensive stuff. Which made even less sense when Quinn looked over his receipt and thought about how everything in his basket had been some form of plant. They needed to re-prioritise their vegetable patch if this was the kind of money they’d be spending on tea tree, ginger, aloe vera and clove. Potatoes were a pound a kilo, they didn’t need to be growing those in the garden.

A little after Quinn’s usual bedtime, Remi dismissed him, promising to join soon. Quinn took a shower, dressed in his pjs, and sat in bed and waited. He couldn’t sleep while his precious mate toiled away over some sweaty dog in their guest bedroom. The minutes clunked by, slow but methodical. He couldn’t bear to even read or flick through his planner, it seemed so insensitive while Remi was being so selfless. Despite his frustration at the unwelcome intruder, Quinn was in awe of Remi’s tender heart.

Just before midnight, Wes’ fever finally broke, and Remi slunk into bed beside Quinn without bothering to replace the clothes he pulled off with pajamas, pawing at him for comfort. Quinn was more than happy to oblige, pinning Remi down into the pillows and digging his tongue between his legs until he squealed under clasped hands. He deserved it. All the pleasure, all the love, all the rest.