Chapter Text
Steve’s Monday morning already sucked worse than usual.
He was straight off a sleepless night with end-of-heat cramps, and was rushing around like a crazy thing trying to get the café ready for opening, when…
Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang.
He jumped an inch in the air. The coffee beans he’d been pouring into the grinder scattered and rolled off in every direction across the café floor.
Bang, bang, bang, bang, BANG!
At the repeated knocking on the front door, Steve nearly yelled, Will you get lost already? He squealed in exasperation, and in slight fear, too. They’d had quite a few ‘problem’ customers lately. Always a risk for an Omega trying to run a business, especially one like ‘Purr-fect Moments.’
“Sorry, we’re not open yet,” he called, voice shaky.
“Munson’s Munchies? Got your pastries!”
Steve froze for a sec, before hurrying to let the delivery guy in. That shout wasn’t Wayne Munson. However, the white van Steve now spied between the slats of the blinds was Wayne’s. The smells drifting from it were, if anything, even better than the usual levels of ‘Munson’s Munchies’ yum. He unchained the door, opened it a crack… and suppressed another squeal.
The good-looking guy with his arms stacked with three cardboard trays of sumptuous baked goods was an Alpha. The spike in Steve’s blood screamed it, before he’d even latched onto the Alpha fangs revealed by the newcomer’s slowly spreading grin.
“You wear those things all the time, Honey?” asked the Alpha.
“Huh?” Steve blinked at him.
“The cat ears?”
“Right! They’re, uh, part of the gig. I style my hair around them first thing, so they’re kinda sprayed into place. I use a lot of product so…” Steve realized he was babbling on like an idiot.
Yes, he spent most of his life wearing a cutesy set of kitty ears. This was an Omega comfort-kitty café, after all. The menu listed the price for a calming hour snuggling a gently purring Omega, alongside those for the cinnamon buns and mochas.
“I don’t wear them in bed, if that’s what you mean,” he mumbled, then mentally facepalmed as hard as he blushed.
Wtf, Harrington?
The Alpha was still grinning. Dopily. His long dark hair was scraped back into a messy bun that was, like the rest of him, doing crazy things to Steve’s brain chemistry.
“Where d’ya want the pastries, Sweetheart?”
“Oh, anywhere.” Steve stepped aside, chewing his lip nervously. Alarm bells chimed faintly—he’d just let a strange Alpha into his café. On the other hand, Wayne had mentioned getting in help. If Wayne trusted this dude, so did Steve, right? “Mind the mess,” he said, as the Alpha literally crunched his way across the café floor. “There are spilled coffee beans. Like, everywhere.”
“Monday mornings, huh? Not a fan either. I’m Eddie, by the way.”
“Oh, uh… I’m… uh… Steve.” Steve nibbled and wetted his lips.
“Nice little place you got here, Steve. You the boss?”
“Yeah.” Woah! Few Alphas made that assumption. “My mom set it up, and now… yeah, I do the best I can. With a lot of help from my friends.”
Eddie placed the pastries on the counter and flashed another sizzling grin. Steve squirmed on his toes, feeling like he was blushing everywhere.
Eddie was scary.
The design on his t-shirt was, frankly, horrifying, covered in what looked like blood-spatter and slimy goo. He’d gotten tattoos of bats and skeletons and other terrifying beasties flapping and creeping up his arms.
And Steve was as hungry to lick Eddie’s dimples and ridiculously pillowy lips as he was for the pastries, which was insane.
Steve didn’t do Alphas.
He didn’t want one, or as a rule, trust them. Besides, that smell sending him weak at the knees must be the pastries. The air-fresheners and blocker-chemicals in the café neutralised most sexual pheromones, especially punchy Alpha ones, and Steve badly craved a sugar rush.
“Anything else I can do to help?” asked Eddie, sidestepping a dainty afternoon tea table, as he headed back across the café.
“No, thanks. I’m good.” Steve snapped his chin up. He’d been fixating on the snug fit of Eddie’s ripped jeans, particularly around the crotch. “Um, Wayne always delivers to the other entrance. Will he be back tomorrow?”
“’Fraid not.” The Alpha sighed toward a fluffy purple rug, and his face twitched strangely. “He’s in hospital.”
Steve’s stomach dropped like a stone. “Shit! Is it serious?”
“Honestly, Honey? I dunno.”
Wayne. In hospital. Possibly seriously ill. Steve stared through Eddie like the Alpha had vanished. No, not Wayne. Not kind, ever-supportive Wayne…
“Christ, Steve, you look like you need a hug.”
Steve barely took in the words. His knees wobbled as dramatically as his lower lip. The Alpha approached, and Steve hunched in on himself, braced for… something. Instead, Eddie opened his arms, a respectful foot away, and the pull proved magnetic. Steve tumbled forward, strong Alpha arms banded around him, and he buried his face in Eddie’s t-shirt. His arms hugged around the Alpha’s neck like a crazy little spider-monkey scared of falling out of its tree.
“Hey, it’s all right, Sweetheart.” Eddie rubbed circles between Steve’s shoulder-blades. “Sorry I scared you. Listen, this is Wayne, huh? He’d be cut up if I told him you were upset, and… he’s gonna pull through, okay?”
Steve sniffled into Eddie’s solid chest. “I’m sorry. It was… kinda the last straw today. Running a business as an Omega is hard. Most people try to con you, trip you up, but n-not Wayne. N-never Wayne. He’s the best, and… and, I don’t feel so great this morning… and th-the m-mess, and… Oh crap, I’m making this all about me. I’m such an unforgivable moron.”
“Hush, you’re good.” Eddie patiently soothed and rocked him, while Steve whimpered, and his inner voice sniped, What the hell are you doing snivelling all over a stranger, and an Alpha one at that? “You know, you’re my last delivery. I really can stay and help sweep up those beans. What d’ya say, Kitty-cat?”
“Huh?”
Steve peeped up through the blur of his lashes. Eddie’s eyes were chocolate-cinnamon whirlpools that seemed to suck him in.
Kind eyes. Not something he ever expected in an Alpha. They were a little like Wayne’s.
“Steve? You want me to stay and help?”
Steve nodded vacantly. While his heart still bled for Wayne, the rest of his ditzy O-head senses were going crazy for pastries again. He inhaled a fruity hint of blueberry, mingled with still-warm all-butter pastry and bitter dark chocolate, apart from…
He plastered his wet face against the Alpha’s throat, snuffling and rooting around.
Oooooooh, that makes sense!
The irresistible smell was not the muffins, nor even the cacao-and-honey swirls. The most sumptuous threads of fresh bakery goods radiated from Eddie’s scent gland.
Steve wallowed in it, all but chewed on it, while Eddie’s delicious musk fizzed and frothed to every corner of his lungs. Then a laugh rumbled from the Alpha’s chest: “You scenting me there, Kitty?”
“Shit!” Steve jumped away, sending a chair toppling, and sweeping his hair from his clammy brow. “Oh my God, I honestly don’t know what came over me. Christ! I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” He straightened the chair, checked his kitty ears hadn’t been unsettled then started pacing, arms wrapped tight around himself. He wished he could burrow beneath a fuzzy beanbag and hide. “I’ve been a Comfort Omega since I was 19! I’m on major hormone suppressants! I’ve never, ever, done anything inappropriate like that, and… and… I drooled on your t-shirt!”
“Relax, Steve.” Eddie’s squeeze of his shoulder stilled his feet and calmed him slightly. “Look, I reckon we both needed a hug this morning, and the hospital won’t let me see my uncle till noon. I can hang around, or do I give you some space?”
Wayne was Eddie’s uncle?
Steve gawked up at him, on the verge of losing his shit again. He’d been sobbing over Wayne, when it must be so much worse for Eddie. Whose kind, reassuring gaze captured Steve’s and held it. Another gentle squeeze, and Steve was okay again.
Steve didn’t think. He just said it: “Please can you stay, Alpha?”
“Sure thing, little Omega.”
Steve giggled. He’d never called anyone Alpha before. Freaky. A slip of the tongue, right?
Yeah, right, Harrington. You never scented anybody before either, not like that…
Fortunately, the next half hour proved too busy and fun for Steve to dwell on anything. Eddie swept up the beans, Steve grinded more, then they both swore at the coffee machine till it cranked into life. After that, Eddie arranged the pastries, while Steve prepped the sandwich fillings and found himself telling Eddie how he—aged twenty-two— wound up being one of the few Omegas in the city to run his own business.
It'd all started when his mom, also an Omega, ran away from his Alpha dad when Steve was still a little kid. She’d heard that lone Omegas could get along easily in the city.
She’d heard wrong. It was slightly less tough than in a province where Omegas were property.
But easy? Nah.
“Without ID or papers that would lead us back to my dad, it was either sex work or a comfort Omega. Obviously, she took the latter. The pay was a joke. With Omegas, everyone gives the lowest wages they can get away with… tho’ Momma was smart. She scrimped and saved and eventually set up this place. ‘Course, she didn’t want me working here. I was supposed to go to college, but let’s just say, I wasn’t as smart as her and then she… passed… so…”
Crap.
Steve’s lip was wobbling again. By this time, they were drinking extra-shot lattes, and stuffing caramel brownies, and he found he couldn’t look Eddie in the eye.
Eddie was an Alpha.
Steve had basically been whining his head off about what douchebags most Alphas were.
“Wow,” said Eddie, placing down his drink. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Steve almost snapped it. “Honestly, I’m proud we survived, I guess. It’s been tough without her. I mean, for an Omega, she was super-well respected.” Okay, and he was gonna have to move on from this topic, or the tears would be unstoppable. “I’m getting by. There’s three of us Omegas. Carol, Chrissy and I take turns on kitty and barista duties. My friend Robin—she’s a Beta—does the accounts, and Wayne’s always been a rock.”
“For you and me both, Sweetheart.”
Eddie sighed sadly, and Steve desperately wanted to offer him an hour of free kitty cuddles. He’d do his bestest to pump out all the comfort vibes his little Omega self could conjure. After he scented Eddie, tho’, dare he trust himself?
Jesus Christ! It wasn’t like Steve didn’t know about that magnetic pull between Alphas and Omegas. Yeah, he’d felt a fizzle of attraction to the occasional Alpha, sometimes even that delicious melty feeling, deep inside. Never wanted to act on it, tho’. He was used to bodily contact, used to keeping sexual feelings out of it without much difficulty… but Eddie?
Nope, Steve couldn’t lose control like that again.
Conversation, fortunately, flowed on easy enough. As they finished their drinks, Eddie explained how Wayne had pretty much raised him. Eddie had returned to keep Wayne’s ‘Munson’s Munchie’s’ afloat when Wayne got sick, following several years travelling around and gigging with his band.
“Wow! What’s your group called?” asked Steve.
“Corroded Coffin.” Eddie beamed toothily, pointing to his t-shirt.
“Oh, that’s what it says!” Steve squinted at the stylised text between the mess. “Couldn’t tell. Too much slime and blood spatter.”
Eddie hooted. Steve quailed at his own cheek. He was bantering with an Alpha like they were his friend or something and they’d somehow gravitated pretty close on the sofa. The heat and faint scent rolling off Eddie was tantalizing.
And Steve was dying, simply dying, to bury his face once more in that demonic blood-spatter shirt.
“Listen,” said Eddie. “I really gotta go, but—"
“Oh, Diiiingus! Where aaaaaare yooooou?” Robin’s voice sliced between them. Steve squeaked, and Eddie looked up sharply. “Oh! Who’s your friend?”
Robin had slipped in the backdoor, followed by Chrissy, and Carol’s Beta boyfriend, Tommy. He hung around being annoying when he’d gotten nothing better to do. Even, so it seemed, when Carol didn’t start her shift till noon.
“This is, um… erm… Eddie,” said Steve. Christ! Once more, he fluffed the simplest question ever. His friends standing there gawking like he’d been discovered giving the Alpha a full-on kitty-boy lap-dance didn’t help. And that was not an image he needed swimming around his airhead little skull, because it was so NOT HIM and yet… “He’s Wayne’s nephew,” Steve stuttered out.
“Cool,” said Robin. “Nice to meet you. You do realize it’s ten past ten, Steve? You got customers waiting out front.”
Steve shot off to flip over the ‘closed’ sign and let them in. The second dude through the door was a regular, Dan, a hot-shot banking exec who came for kitty cuddles to de-stress. He looked cranky, and for a second Steve was scared he’d get his head chewed off about the late opening.
Then Dan saw Eddie. Standing beside Steve, his folded arms displaying the ‘sweet tatties’ he’d started telling Steve the history of. His grin revealed those Alpha fangs, which gleamed in the morning sun like a crocodile’s.
The banker wandered off to wait for his tiramisu iced-whipped latte, and kitty. Tommy stuffed a chocolate-and-peppermint cookie he totally hadn’t paid for in his mouth.
“See you tomorrow?” asked Eddie.
“Sure!” chirped Steve, forgetting even to snap at Tommy. “Delivery back entrance is down the passageway to the right. You can, erm, come to the front if you’d rather, tho’.”
“Back is fine.”
Eddie nodded his goodbye, and, after Steve called, “Give my love to Wayne,” he headed off.
“Bet you’d let that dude use any passage.” Tommy reached for another pastry. Steve slapped his wrist. “Ow! Fuuuuck.”
“He seems nice, Steve.” Robin waggled her brows. “Sure keeps the customers in their playpens. Gonna be keeping him around?”
“Why? As a bodyguard?” Steve harrumphed. For the first time in a while, he realized how tired and fading heat-pangy he still was. “Jesus, I don’t need an Alpha to defend my chastity or something! We’ve always been fine without.”
“All right. Don’t get your panties in a twist, Shit-bird.”
Steve glared at her, tho’ not with any real intent. To be honest, he knew she was only looking out for him. There’d always been the odd troublesome customer, who figured you could touch a comfort Omega anywhere you chose. It had happened from time-to-time when his momma had been in charge. Since ‘little Stevie’ took over? Yeah, it’d got worse, and lately, some guy, Jason, had booked waaaay too many snuggle sessions with Chrissy than Steve was happy with.
He was an Alpha, and while he’d not broken any of the café rules barring intimate petting, he was pretty intense. They all felt on edge around him. Even Carol had agreed that Steve had been right not to surrender to her suggestion that they wore velvet kitty collars with jingly bells. He feared even the ears gave the wrong idea sometimes, tho’ they all agreed it helped get them ‘in character.’ Anyhow, most of the customers doted on them in more-or-less the right way and were fine with the rules.
There was no sign of Jason this morning. So that was good. Robin and Tommy left for their jobs elsewhere, and Steve knuckled down to make drinks. Then Chrissy switched onto the barista machine, and Steve moved onto kitty duties.
He laid his head on a pillow in a young Beta woman’s lap and let himself be petted. Her vibes were totally miserable. His chest flooded with sympathy, and he purred his head off, hoping he offered her a teeny moment of comfort. She seemed to relax a bit, twiddling his ears and stroking the soft fleecy fabric of his not-too-tight fitting clothes.
Steve took some pride in a job well done.
Trouble was, he couldn’t help dreaming about doing this for Eddie. Scratch that. He wanted to scent Eddie again and bask in that fresh pastry yumminess so damn much.
Then he silently scolded himself, because that wasn’t what being a comfort Omega was about, and what would his momma say, and… dammit, no! He wasn’t into Eddie like that, not really.
By the time Eddie arrived the next morning, Steve had everything set up and ready. The coffee machine was primed to go, the rugs were crumb free, and the floor shone immaculately. Steve had woken at five, buzzing with nervous excitement, and he’d figured he might as well get up and get on. They had a whole hour for bubble tea and chatting, and Tommy and Carol joined them at the end, which both frustrated then emboldened Steve.
“Are you going to see Wayne?” asked Steve, when Eddie hauled himself up from a beanbag to leave. Eddie nodded. “How about passing this on?”
He curled his arms around Eddie, and rested his cheek, chastely, beneath Eddie’s shoulder. A purr exploded, completely impromptu. Eddie answered it with a deep rumbling growl. He hugged Steve tight, and a gust of Alpha musk turned Steve wibbly and… Ugh, was that a trickle of slick in his panties?
Don’t scent him, Harrington! This is a comfort hug, remember? Prove you can control yourself, that yesterday was just a one-off blip at the end of your heat…
As if on cue, he detected a bitter note of sadness mingling with Eddie’s bakery yum, and it pulled Steve back from the brink. Eddie released him.
“I’ll pass it on,” said Eddie, kinda misty. “Uh, your kitty ears are wonky.”
Yeah, Steve had styled his hair in a hurry and had skimped on product. He did everything in a hurry to have more time with Eddie.
“Oh, thanks. Um… Your hair is sort of falling out of its bun. May I?”
“Only if I can, Kitty-cat.” Eddie straightened Steve’s cat ears. Steve reached to hook a few of Eddie’s stray tresses back into place. He didn’t realize he was holding his breath till Eddie had gone and he released it in a rush, flopping back, dizzy, into an extra-bouncy armchair.
Over the next few days, they fell into a little routine. Steve couldn’t help thinking that Eddie was also getting up even earlier than usual to get baking, perhaps speeding through his previous deliveries. Either way, they somehow managed to get more and more time together, mainlining caffeine, and talking about life and shit.
Steve started to bring a change of panties to work, too. Yes, he responded to Eddie far too strongly. He was gonna have to deal and hopefully it would pass. And yes, one night, he was so stupidly wet, aching so bad inside, that he got out his chunkiest heat toy then whispered Eddie’s name as he clenched around the vibrating plastic.
And yes, yes, OH YES! He was insane about Eddie Munson. He had the biggest crush of his ditzy little O-head life. He stuffed so many pastries failing to recreate the ‘high’ from sniffing Eddie, he was surprised he could still fit his favorite teeny shorts.
But Steve Harrington didn’t do Alphas, and Eddie? Perhaps his skin tingled when he touched Steve, like Steve’s did when Eddie as much as brushed his hand. The warmth in Eddie’s eyes maybe whispered of more than friendship. Maybe. If Eddie wanted anything more, he didn’t say.
Besides, Steve had never even been friends with an Alpha before. This was an epic learning curve already.
So, Steve battled his unwanted impulses, popped extra suppressant pills, and stuck to his usual lines during their chats: “You know, after seeing my mom and dad together, I knew I didn’t wanna get married. Obviously, my father was a grade-A jerk who spent his entire life shouting, and I’ll never say never and all. Truth is, I’m simply too busy running the café for courting.”
“I hear ya,” said Eddie, between slurps of his strawberry-fudge mocha. “You’re Momma Kitty now. Got your little brood to take care of.”
“I guess,” said Steve, suddenly flat. In the past, he’d always been surprised and happy when Alphas listened to him at all, let alone took his modest business ambitions seriously.
Not this time, apparently. Eddie was spoiling him.
“Gotta admit,” said Eddie, “never really done dating either. Played the field on the road, fooled around a ton, and now—”
“Too freakin’ busy, huh?” squeaked Steve. “Courting not for you?”
“Guess not.” Eddie blasted out the words like a dragon puffing smoke, then dashed away his cream moustache with another huff.
Steve adored having Eddie around, tho’. As a friend. The Alpha started dropping in at the end of the day, too, for an old-school ice slushie and a chat. Once the café had closed, and Steve was cleaning up, he even let Eddie play ‘Corroded Coffin’ tracks through the sound system.
The songs were shouty and very loud, the lyrics as blood-drenched as Eddie’s t-shirts. Everything Steve hated. Apart from he didn’t hate Eddie’s songs as much as he expected. He literally adored Eddie’s raspy voice, which made the pit of his stomach stir, hot and liquidy.
“Thought you said you didn’t do love songs?” teased Steve, picking out a lyric about a heart being scraped out with ‘burning devil love-claws.’
“This is about as mellow and soft rock as we get,” conceded Eddie. “Hey, you gonna let me slip it on your café playlist?” Steve almost tripped over his bucket. “A little respite from the Enya hell-loop?”
“Jesus, Eddie, do you want to slay my customers?”
Eddie pouted. Wow. Since when could Alphas look cute? “Only in an ice-cool ax-man way.”
“Still a ‘no,’ Eddie.” Steve giggled his head off.
The next day, Eddie texted to say he was running late, having spent extra time at the hospital with Wayne. He still proved a lifesaver, after Jason got Chrissy trapped beneath his ‘petting’ hands in his lap.
“C’mon, Darlin’.” Jason leaned over the obviously uncomfortable ‘kitty,’ deaf to Steve’s tapping toe and increasingly panicked reminders that they were already ten past closing. “We don’t have to end this here. Please let me buy you din—”
Eddie walked in. Somehow, angry Alpha vibes cut through all the chemical blockers.
Or maybe it was Eddie’s guttural growl, bared fangs, and red-hot-pokers glare. Jason snarled back, getting up, shoulders squaring. Eddie casually smacked his be-ringed fist into his palm, and Jason scuttled off with his tail between his legs.
“I catch you within a mile of this place, I’ll gut you!” roared Eddie, which Steve hadn’t expected and Eddie’s subsequent foul-mouthed tirade smothered both Steve and Chrissy’s squeals.
Seeing Eddie shouting was shocking and terrifying.
On this occasion, Steve was hardly gonna complain.
After cuddling Chrissy calm again, and calling Robin to pick her up, Steve hugged his thanks to Eddie, hugged him so hard. “Hey, you’re shaking, Steve,” said Eddie.
“I’m good.” Steve smiled tremulously up at Eddie, trying to convince himself as much as anything. “Honestly!”
It screwed him up that he couldn’t defend his kitties. He’d finally twigged that was the reason Robin and Tommy hung around so much. Obviously, Eddie felt similarly protective.
He tried to cling to the upside. He was really, really lucky to have such good friends.
And seeing Eddie going all, well, Alpha like that?
That night, after Steve had calmed down, he got out his sex toys again. He dreamed about what it might really be like for Eddie to steal away his precious chastity.
The next Monday morning, Steve arrived at the cafe extra early. He wanted to perfect a new choc-orange mocha that he figured Eddie would enjoy. At half past nine, tho’, he was sitting on the sofa, hunched in on himself, scolding himself bitterly over how badly he wanted to cry.
No pastries. No Eddie. No message on his cell to say Eddie would be late. At ten to ten, Chrissy arrived with Carol: “Just call him, idiot! He might be your boyfriend. He’s also our supplier. I don’t wanna have to explain to whiny customers where their goddamn almond croissants are!”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” Steve protested. The same instant Eddie bustled in, arms stacked with his usual wares.
“Thank God!” squealed Carol.
Steve felt sick. Not only because of what he’d just yelled.
The scent had hit before he’d even absorbed Eddie’s face, pale, unshaven and hangdog. Distress. Eddie oozed distress and, the instant the pastries were offloaded, Steve flung his arms around the Alpha. He nestled his head against Eddie’s shoulder, and Eddie sunk his cheek to Steve’s hair.
“Oh, Eddie,” he whispered, lips ghosting against Eddie’s skin as he peeped up: “What’s wrong? Is it bad?”
“Wayne’s okay,” breathed Eddie, while the others bustled quietly around them. “They’ve found out what’s wrong with him. It’s his blood. Some rare condition—can’t even remember the darn name. They’re giving him a transfusion this morning. After that, it’s gonna be hard… The doctors say he’ll be okay. Gonna be hard, more transfusions, but… it’s okay. He should pull through.”
Steve let this percolate, fingers twisting in Eddie’s shirt, his fast-thrumming pulse falling into rhythm with Eddie’s. He wanted to purr for Eddie. He couldn’t. Not yet. He was too shocked himself, trembling pretty damn hard.
So, he realized, was Eddie. Huh? Alphas tremble too?
“Christ, Steve,” breathed Eddie, “when the doctor called, for a moment I feared the worst.” They held each other, swaying gently. “I thought I was gonna loose him. That I might already have lost him. The bottom fell outta my world, and… Still getting over that, I guess.”
“You wanna stay?” asked Steve, voice so tiny he was surprised Eddie heard, let alone answered so fast.
“Yeah, I’d like that. I’ll, you know, find a corner alone and—”
“No way! I’m gonna take care of you,” said Steve, and a glance at Chrissy, who answered with a firm nod, told him his duties would be covered. It should be quiet, anyway.
He peeped up to see Eddie smirk at his bossiness and it was permission enough.
Eddie was in need of some serious comfort kitty action.
Steve took Eddie’s hand, led him over to their cosiest sofa in their cosiest nook, and pressed him down into it. He then clambered on besides, cuddled his arms loosely around Eddie’s neck and snuggled up tight against his side.
Steve didn’t bother to put a cushion on Eddie’s lap, and he crept his knee up into it, deepening the full-body hug. Attracted as he was to Eddie, he knew he’d have no problem keeping this chaste after what Eddie had just been through. Steve liked helping strangers this way, and he sure as heck lived to help friends in need. This was everything his momma had cherished about being a ‘comfort’ Omega. Everything it ought to be about—gifting that moment of calm and hope in a chaotic, scary, often horrible world.
Steve began to stroke lightly at the hair at Eddie’s nape, where those strands tumbled out of his bun. Granted, he wouldn’t do that for an ordinary customer. Still, he knew how soothing it could be.
“You okay with this?” he asked.
“More than okay,” murmured Eddie, his tightly-wound body palpably melting a little. Soon, the Alpha glided his fingers into Steve’s hair, weaving and petting around the kitty ears. Steve began pumping out comfort purrs—and, with them, comfort pheromones—like both their lives depended on it.
Soon, he found himself clambered halfway into Eddie’s lap, sprawled almost on top of him.
“This okay?” whispered Steve.
“Hell yeah, Kitty-cat,” said Eddie, arms closing around Steve to hold him into place, and it felt soooo goooooood. Being supported like this. Firmly yet tenderly cuddled and warmly cocooned. Dammit, Eddie was making Steve so profoundly relaxed, feeling safer than he’d ever known. In the lap of an Alpha, after everything he’d been through as a kid. It was nuts.
Steve was supposed to be the one providing a service here. The way this snuggle was actually happening, both of them giving and taking, felt way more perfect than it should, really.
Steve’s nose wandered close to Eddie’s scent-gland. Eddie’s musk wasn’t all pastries, Steve had learned that of late. The low notes weren’t all dark chocolate. They could be earthy and dewy-fresh, with a spiky metallic tang, almost like blood, and… Whoops. Steve jerked his face away, before he got drunk on it.
Then, the bombshell: “Steve, I’m possibly breaking your rules with this question, and I’m sorry. Feel free to kick me out of your fine establishment right away, buuuuut… You fancy hanging out together later? I mean, somewhere else?”
Steve was nodding madly in Eddie’s face before his brain had the slightest chance to catch up. “Yes!” he squeaked, “Yes! I’d really, really like that a lot.”