Archive of Our Own ^beta

Patrick is really, really hoping he turns out to be a beta.

There's a good chance of it, he thinks – he's never been all that good at listening to people, and giving orders isn't really his thing either, so it just seems unlikely that he'll present as an omega or an alpha. Jonny turned eighteen back in April, and he'd been exactly what Patrick knew he would be since they were five and couldn't stop themselves from shifting all the time and biting at each other's heels.

Jonny presented as an alpha.

And Patrick's pretty much known since he was a little kid that Jonny was his alpha.

He's in his grandpa's pack now, goes over at least once a month to pay his respects (and talk about hockey) with his parents and little sisters, but he knows that's temporary. He'll always love his – his family pack, but Jonny is something else altogether, and Patrick is as sure that Jonny is his alpha as he is that hockey is the best game you could ever possibly play.

He's just, he's really sure.

It wasn't a surprise when Jonny presented as an alpha, not at all, but as Patrick's birthday gets closer and closer, he can't help but get more and more nervous, because while he doesn't really think he's an alpha, or an omega, presenting as a beta is really the only option for him. You can't have two alphas in a pack, or two omegas, it just doesn’t work.

They took this exam at school a few years ago that predicts what you'll present as, and Jonny had gotten alpha, no surprise there, but Patrick's had come back undetermined. What was that, seriously? Jonny had even looked disappointed when he'd forced his dumb head over Patrick's desk to try and see the results. As much as Patrick wants to be in Jonny's pack, as much as he feels like Jonny is already his alpha, it's got to be worse for Jonny, who's always been really in touch with his wolf, and kind of possessive of the people he thinks belong to him.

Patrick's almost sure David has it even worse than he does, even though Jonny's always swearing he's not going to force David to join his pack or anything. (Patrick is skeptical; he's pretty sure if David presents as a beta, he's going to end up being in Jonny's pack, whether he wants to be or not.)

In Patrick's desperate hours, usually in the small hours of the morning when he hasn't managed to get to sleep because he's thinking too hard, he thinks about presenting as an omega, and joining Jonny's pack anyway. It’s not something that’s done, at all, because a pack can’t have two omegas, and Jonny would eventually get mated, and – it’s just biology.

Alphas only mate with omegas.

It’s obvious, then, that if Patrick wants to be in Jonny’s pack – and he really, really does – he needs to present as a beta.

And that if he presents as an alpha, somehow, or an omega, he’s completely, utterly screwed.

Not that they've even talked about it. Patrick's mostly assuming here; he thinks joining Jonny’s pack when they’re old enough is just a natural progression of events, because Patrick's been following Jonny around since they were still young enough to get stuck as wolves and Jonny admitted, back when they were just starting high school, that he likes it better when he can see what Patrick's up to. He was kind of joking around about Patrick getting in trouble in chemistry, but he's mostly sure Jonny meant it, in the way that alphas get all agitated if they don't know where a pack member is.

A couple years ago, Patrick had wanted to go on a vacation to Quebec with Jonny, because he'd been invited, but when he'd asked his grandpa, the answer had been a flat out no. Patrick had thrown a fit, but his grandpa hadn't so much as twitched, and the answer had stayed no. It had been the first time his grandpa had ever not given him something he wanted, because Patrick knows (not that he'd ever admit it in front of his little sisters) that he's maybe a little spoiled, because his grandpa and him are just – they're buds, and if Patrick didn't have Jonny, he's pretty sure he'd say his grandpa was his best friend when people ask.

His mom had had to explain, more than once, even, before it really sunk in, that as an alpha, Grandpa just wasn't comfortable with Patrick leaving pack territory all by himself, and she'd stopped herself, but Patrick thinks she was about to say with another alpha, like Jonny was challenging his grandpa's claim on Patrick's pack status or something, and that was just ridiculous, Patrick wasn't even in high school yet, and Jonny hadn't even officially presented as an alpha back then.

He thinks he's supposed to feel guilty, maybe, that he knows with so much surety that he's going to leave his family pack when he turns eighteen in exchange for Jonny's, but he doesn't feel guilty at all. He's nervous, sometimes so nervous he thinks he's going to puke, but mostly he's just overwhelmingly excited. Maybe that's him, or more the wolf side of things, but either way, everything depends on him presenting as a beta.

When Patrick met Jonny for the first time, it was because they'd both just been picked for the same hockey team. When Patrick netted his first goal during practice, Jonny skated over to give him a congratulatory hug and, well, it's not like he didn't sometimes shift on accident, when he was excited or happy, but it hadn't happened at practice in ages. But he was grinning at Jonny, and then a second later he was shifting without meaning to; curling in and getting his legs caught in his clothes and pads because he had four of them instead of two all of a sudden, and he yelped pathetically when his sweater got stuck around his front paws and his head, and okay, standing on the ice might seem like it would be easier with four legs, but it really isn't at all, even when he isn’t just a kid.

When he got his head out of the messed up material, finally, it was because Jonny had grabbed onto the collar with his teeth and tugged, pulling it off of him. Patrick had barked at him, happy, because Jonny had shifted too, and he was a little bigger than Patrick, and his coat was kind of silky smooth instead of fuzzy, the way Patrick's coat always ends up being, but it was just less embarrassing as a whole to accidentally shift if you weren’t the only one.

Patrick ended up curling up under the bench with Jonny, because he didn't quite have the knack for shifting back whenever he wanted to yet, and Jonny hadn’t either back then, so he’d just planted his paw on Patrick's face when Patrick tried playfully chewing on his ear, making him settle and watch the rest of practice, while their coach glared at them, clearly disappointed. Patrick remembers thinking that he should be upset that he wasn't on the ice, but also that it was just practice, and Jonny was warm and comforting, somehow.

When his dad picked him up from practice an hour later and heard from coach what happened, Patrick's ears instinctively fell back until they were flat against his head, and he’d tried to hide behind Jonny, even though it wasn’t all that big of a deal that he’d shifted accidentally. He was just a kid; it happens. His little sisters had way worse control than him, even. Well, not Erica, maybe, but she's an overachiever and shouldn't count, and besides, Jonny had done it too.

His dad just gave him this disappointed look though, before leaning down to pick Patrick up and hold him close to his chest, to carry him out to the car. As soon as Patrick's paws were off the ground though, Jonny let out this little growl, almost threatening, maybe, and Patrick squirmed until his dad let him back down so that he could lick at Jonny's muzzle, just as a see you tomorrow, Jonny, because he couldn't say it out loud in his wolf form.

Jonny sat back on his hind legs, and that was that.

They've been best friends from there on in.

Jonny and him have this standing date – well, not a date, obviously, but like, a hang out night sort of thing every month on the full moon.

It started in ninth grade, weirdly enough because of neither of them were keeping track of the moon very well. Patrick always vaguely knows when it's coming, but if you ask him the exact date he'll just kind of blink and won't be able to tell you. Jonny usually knows, because he likes to know things, but he cornered Patrick one day in the hall, by his locker, and said, "Hey, Pat, come over on Friday; David's got a date so we'll have the playstation to ourselves," and Patrick had agreed before realizing that Friday was the full moon.

He'd gotten all the way home before he'd remembered, and then he’d kind of freaked out because did Jonny – but, no, Jonny just must not have been thinking, he’d decided, and called him up to needle him about it.

It’s not exactly official, that full moons are for mates, Patrick knows, but it isn’t really a thing friends do.

Running on the full moon with anyone but your pack, it’s just; there’s sort of a romantic connotation to it. It’s a popular theme in romantic comedies, and all the girls and even some of the boys who are closer to presenting, maybe, get really into it, asking people to run with them on the full moon.

When he’d asked Jonny about it over the phone though, Jonny hadn’t seemed to care and just said, “Oh, yeah. But it’s cool, right? David’s doing his thing and my parents are going on a date, I guess.” Patrick could practically hear Jonny’s scowl through the phone, and he understood, really. Jonny was going to have to run by himself, or maybe even just stay home, and sure, he hadn’t invited Patrick over to go running, but if it just worked out that way—

It's not like either of them were interested in dating for real, so he’d thought about it, and came to the conclusion that they could totally hang out on the full moon. It wasn’t a date or whatever, for them, because Jonny wasn’t – he just wasn’t. But they were best friends, and practically pack, and even then, Patrick knew that if everything worked out the way he wanted it to, Jonny would be his pack someday. His alpha even.

He usually spent full moon with his parents and little sisters, and sometimes even his grandpa, if he was feeling well enough to go running. But at fourteen, he was old enough, really, to spend full moon doing his own thing. And sure, usually kids only break off from running with their pack if they’re going on a date, but that’s basically like running with a potential pack member, and that’s all Patrick would be doing here anyway.

Just without the romantic element to it.

So Patrick had ended up washing his fur as well as he could, because it wasn’t a date but it was the full moon, and his first one not running with his parents. His mom had almost cried when he’d said he was going to Jonny’s for the night, but she’d let him pocket twenty dollars and tapped his nose with hers before he’d ran out the door, heading towards Jonny’s as fast as his paws could carry him.

When he got to Jonny’s house, Andree let him through so that he could run in and pounce on Jonny, tackling him even though he hadn’t shifted yet, and slobbering because he knew it’d get Jonny to yell and curse and shift underneath him, struggling with his clothes and growling while biting at Patrick’s nose.

Patrick had thought they’d go running right away, but instead Jonny had laid flat on top of him when Patrick got distracted by Andree’s, “Jonathan, your father and I are leaving. We’ll be back in a few hours. Be safe,” and used his weight to keep Patrick from moving.

Patrick had whined, but Jonny growled deep in his throat, making Patrick huff and stop complaining. Jonny sniffed and licked at his fur, and when he finally shifted back, he’d said, “Your fur is all clean,” voice kind of funny, before pulling on his clothes, and leaving Patrick to roll on the floor, belly up, asking as well as he could for Jonny to please give him what he wanted.

Which, right then, was to shift back into a wolf so that they could go running together, the moon practically calling for him already. It hadn’t even been that high yet, Patrick thinks. But Jonny had huffed and knelt down, rubbing at Patrick’s ears, making Patrick close his eyes and tilt his head up a little.

"Go get dressed," Jonny had said after a minute of that. "I'm hungry, so we're getting food before we go running."

Jonny insisted they go to some nice little family restaurant that was full of mated couples, but Patrick remembers the immediate awkward feeling he’d had had died when the first lady had gotten up to sing at the karaoke stand, and she’d been so horrible that he and Jonny had mostly spent the whole meal trying not to laugh too obnoxiously loudly.

There was a guy in wolf form in the back of the diner who wasn’t nearly as nice as them – he was howling, and everyone near him was snickering. It was hard to hold back.

Patrick had been so tempted to go give karaoke an attempt, but Jonny had knocked his foot into Patrick’s, a clear don’t even think about it, Patrick, and Patrick had given up on the idea, but kicked Jonny back, getting him to make an affronted face that Patrick hadn’t been able to not laugh at. Whatever, Jonny had started it, and Patrick had leaned over and stolen all of his fries while they kept kicking each other under the table and Jonny was distracted.

Then – finally – they’d gone running.

Jonny and Patrick’s packs typically ran on different fields, just because of what they were used to, so Patrick had never run on the field that Jonny took him to, and when he shifted into his wolf form, all he’d wanted was to run in circles, sniffing at everything and snapping his jaws at every squirrel he could find. The moon was high by the time they got there, and it wasn’t crowded, exactly, but there were enough wolves around that there weren’t really any squirrels left to chase, unfortunately.

Jonny had jumped in front of him though, and that was the solution – chasing Jonny instead. They raced down the field, in and out of the way of other wolves’ doing the same thing, through tall grass and dirt patches. Patrick got in front of Jonny at one point and barked, excited and happy, and Jonny stopped running, laying down to lick at his front paws. Patrick whined and nudged him with his head, and Jonny paused like he was considering it, before he’d jumped up so fast that Patrick couldn’t get out from under him, and Jonny was digging his claws into the dirt around Patrick where he was caught underneath Jonny’s bulkier body.

Patrick barked again, practically a yip, and Jonny leant in to lick at his muzzle. Patrick let his tail flap idly as he stretched his neck out, letting Jonny groom him. It felt a little intimate because of the full moon, he remembers thinking, but it was nothing they hadn’t done before, and Patrick loved it; loved the feeling of Jonny surrounding him, taking care of him like that.

He still does.

They’re in their final year now, but they still always end up hanging out on full moon nights. They don’t go out to eat anymore – being around so many mated couples was just awkward, Patrick thinks, because that’s just not them, but they’ll usually order pizza or something, and hang out playing video games or skating on the pond behind Jonny’s house before shifting and going out for a run. Sometimes they stay out all night, just because neither of them wants to let go of the moon.

Sometimes whole packs of wolves will get together and howl at the same time, singing for Her, and Patrick likes to sit back and join in, even though his voice still cracks sometimes when he tries to howl too loudly, and Jonny will sit on him and cover his snout with a paw, trying to shut him up. Jonny can’t really talk though; his howls are just as bad.

Neither of them can sing worth a damn, Patrick thinks, wistfully.

Sometimes David or one of Patrick’s little sisters will tag along, or weirder, they end up running into teammates without meaning to at all. Sharpy apparently spent a week absolutely certain him and Abby had crashed Patrick and Jonny’s date, which was just crazy, and Jonny had been pissed the whole time, making Patrick flinch whenever the guys brought it up.

Jonny had to go to Quebec the week of his birthday, because his grandmother is the alpha of his pack and that’s where she lives – Jonny’s family pack is rare in how big and spread out it is – but he’d texted Patrick the morning of the twenty-ninth, just one word: alpha. Which, Patrick had known he would be, everyone did. It’s still like a kick to the chest for it to be final though, for Patrick to swallow and realize this was it, this was – Jonny was his alpha, unless by some crazy chance Patrick presents as an alpha too, or like, an omega.

Jonny is a little stronger, after presenting, and a lot grouchier, according to Andree, but Patrick has to remember to breathe sometimes, because there’s something more to it than that – like Jonny is finally himself, fought and proven. He has to fight the urge to bare his neck during the middle of a movie sometimes, when Jonny will absently run his fingers through Patrick’s curls, and sometimes it’s hard to keep from shifting even though he’s seventeen and he should have that down flat. He doesn’t entirely understand it – that’s never happened to him before.

His birthday is in just a few months, now. He’ll be the last one in his entire class to present, because he should technically be in eleventh grade, not twelfth. He was born just a month after the cutoff date, but they’d let him skip the first grade because he was so smart, which he still likes to bring up and brag about when Jonny gets too big of a head, even though he’s definitely not smart enough to skip any grades anymore.

They were actually arguing about it just the other day, a couple weeks after Jonny came back from Quebec, as they were walking through the front door of Patrick’s house, heading for the kitchen. Patrick won, obviously, or would have, anyway, if his mom hadn’t come in, and then – well, basically she kidnapped Jonny for like five minutes.

Jonny gets kind of stiff when Patrick asks, “What’d my mom want, man?” after he comes back to the kitchen, without her in tow, and it takes him a minute, but Jonny finally says, “Nothing,” and even though that’s a blatant lie, he’s also pushing Patrick out the door so that they can get to their hockey game on time, and that takes precedence, probably.

They end up winning their conference, which is awesome, and Patrick gets drunk for the first time at the celebration party afterwards. It’s basically the best thing ever: he gets to finally do karaoke, and spills beer everywhere when Crow tries to teach him how to shotgun it, and he thinks he gets hit on, but he can’t tell if comments on how he smells so fucking good, man are like, an actual come on, which, weird, he hasn’t even presented yet, or are just a general compliment on his scent. Either way, he feels good, and maybe a little worse for wear when he finds Sharpy, all wolfed out, taking up the whole couch because he’s so big, and he’s just a really pretty beta, and Patrick falls right on top of him with a huge oof.

He’s not as good as Jonny, but Jonny disappeared a little while ago, and Patrick’s starting to maybe get a bit dizzy, so Sharpy’s a good substitute. Abby is there too, much smaller and… browner, but with pretty yellow eyes that, Patrick can tell, are taking him in with some level of affection.

Patrick understands; he’s pretty fantastic.

“Were you making out?” Patrick asks, and Sharpy huffs – right, can’t really make out while you’re in wolf form, he guesses. Patrick wouldn’t know, it’s not something he’s interested in, because hello, he’s not all beta-y yet. Or alpha-y/omega-y, whatever. Sharpy’s fur feels nice though; he’s soft like a big pillow.

Or maybe it’s like, when wolves lick each other’s faces and muzzles. That seems maybe kind of similar. Sticking your tongue down somebody’s throat is probably a lot grosser though. Besides, what’s the point? You can always just shift. Patrick just doesn’t understand people.

“Fucking hell,” he hears, vaguely, and he tries to turn but Sharpy is inconveniently holding the couch hostage, and by the time Patrick’s managed to get up, it’s because Jonny is literally picking him up, baring his teeth and honest-to-God growling past Patrick like it’s Sharpy’s fault that Patrick’s maybe a little wasted.

Which, well. It’s not all Sharpy’s fault.

He kind of wants to shift, just to see how it feels drunk, but he’s not sure he’d be able to find his clothes again, and there’s already a few naked guys walking around, like Bicks – Patrick really didn’t need to see all of that. Gross.

But he’s just so happy, because they won, they won! He and Jonny and the whole team; they’d worked so hard for this, and they won, and literally nothing could make this day less awesome, not even Jonny being all grumpy and in need of an attitude adjustment.

Jonny deposits him on a bed in somebody’s room upstairs, and Patrick tugs him down with him, grabbing at his shoulders to get Jonny to settle in with him as close as he can get. “If I shift,” he mumbles into Jonny’s chest – and Jonny smells good, like sweat and lime from the kitchen, and spearmint gum, Patrick thinks, which means Jonny was holding out on him earlier – “will you make sure I find all my clothes, after?”

“Obviously,” Jonny scoffs, and Patrick smiles softly into the folds of Jonny’s shirt before letting the shift take over, and Jonny has to help him kick off his jeans and get his shirt off, which, he probably should’ve stripped before shifting, really, but he presses his nose up against Jonny’s chest and breathes him in, and then raises his head to lick at Jonny’s chin, to say thank you, and maybe – maybe something like I love you, too.

He’s too drunk to decide, but Jonny’s hand tightens in his fur, and Patrick tries to curl in closer, to be as small as he can, surrounded by Jonny, by his alpha. There could never be anything better than that, really.

The last month of school seems to go a lot slower without hockey taking up all of Patrick’s free time, and it’s kind of on a whim that he asks Jonny if he wants to go for a run after school one day, when the time slot that used to be taken up with hockey practice is suddenly empty. Jonny says yes though, and then it’s another thing that they do together. They don’t go every day, because Patrick’s hanging out with his sisters more now too, and Jonny’s still the kind of guy who does all his homework even though school is basically done with, but they meet up to shift and run around the field at least a couple times a week.

The fields they usually go running at are way emptier during mid-day than they are at night, especially full moon nights. Patrick spends an hour, at least, running squirrels out of the underbrush of bushes and up trees instead because there isn’t anybody else around to have already scared them off, and once he even manages to almost catch a bird, and only didn’t because Jonny surprised him and tugged on his tail, messing up his timing.

They usually meet up at school, but Jonny had texted him to go on ahead, that he’d meet him at the field, just a little late. Jonny’s even later than he’d said he’d be though, and while Patrick’s already shifted, he’s mostly just walking in a circle, pouncing on leaves and sticks and longingly watching the opening of the field, waiting for Jonny.

He can actually feel his ears pressing themselves flatter against his head the longer he waits; eventually he’ll just have to go home, because his mom is making dinner tonight, and Patrick promised he’d be there for it.

Patrick senses a movement just off his flank, and moves to jump on Jonny, because finally, but stops himself at the last possible second, because that's so not Jonny. He tilts his muzzle forward in apology, like, sorry bro, but the other wolf doesn’t seem to mind. Patrick recognizes him after a second, because it’s Shawsy, one of the grade nines on the team, and when Shawsy tilts his head forward, clearly challenging Patrick to a race, Patrick takes off, more than willing to play while he waits for Jonny to finally show up.

They burst through the high grass, kicking up dirt as they go, and just as Patrick’s about to hit the end of the track, totally beating Shawsy because of course he is, Shawsy leaps and lands right on top of Patrick, making him topple to the ground and twist in the grass, snapping his jaws.

Patrick throws up his paws, because that was just, cheating, and as far as he’s concerned, was a forfeiture on Shawsy’s part. Shawsy doesn't seem to care; he's still pawing at Patrick’s face, jawing at him a little bit, messing with Patrick’s fur.

Patrick's actually a bit bigger than Shawsy, which is a nice change of pace, so he twists them around and paws lazily at Shawsy's forehead. Shawsy falls into place just behind him, barking loudly – almost too loudly, Patrick thinks. Shawsy always was really loud in the locker room; it makes sense he’d make a lot of noise as a wolf too.

Patrick shakes his head and shifts back, and then hunts around for his clothes, which are luckily all in a pile with his backpack. He’s pulling his jeans on, with Shawsy trotting behind him, whining a little, when he hears a low growl and – oh, hey, there’s Jonny, finally, halfway down the field and coming straight for them, already on all fours.

“Where have you been, man?” Patrick asks, still a little put out, when Jonny gets close enough to hear him. It’s late enough that he really can’t stay and run anymore. “I have to go; my mom’s making pork chops tonight.”

But Jonny doesn’t even act like he heard Patrick. Instead, he glares at Shawsy, and Patrick rolls his eyes, pulling on his shirt. “Whatever,” he says, “I’ll see you later. Shawsy’ll probably run with you if you ask nicely.”

At that though, Jonny jumps up and smashes into Shawsy, rolling him over and pinning him to the ground. Shawsy yelps in surprise, but Jonny jams his paw right in Shawsy's neck and holds him down, and then finally looks up at Patrick, meeting his eyes with his head tilted like he's irritated.

Patrick understands the impulse, but he takes the steps required to get close enough to Jonny that he can bend down and box his ears, marveling at the way they flatten and twitch and perk up all in two seconds. He kind of wants to keep touching them, but he backs off and says, “Night, guys,” instead, and starts the trek up to the main road.

Jonny gets off of Shawsy, who yelps pitifully, as though Jonny had actually hurt him, which – as if. Jonny knows his own strength; he's always pulled back on Patrick at exactly the right second. He’s good at that kind of thing. If only he was good at real fighting; whenever he tries it on the ice, he gets his ass handed to him, which is kind of pathetic when you think about the fact that he’s officially an alpha now.

Jonny nudges Patrick's hand with his nose and starts trailing him.

"What are you doing?" Patrick asks, coming to a stop. "You still need to get your run in."

Jonny shakes out of his wolf form, shrugging and grabbing for the backpack he’d obviously just dumped on the ground, and the clothes that are, well, relatively close to it, at least. "Running too late tonight,” he says. “We'll go tomorrow."

“What took you so long?” Patrick asks, curious. Jonny hadn’t said when he’d texted him. Jonny’s buttoning up his jeans, so Patrick leans down to grab his shirt and throw it at him when he holds his hands up, ready to catch it.

Shawsy comes up behind them then, still pulling on his shirt at the same time.

"Detention," Jonny mutters.

"You got detention?" Patrick enthuses. "What did you do?" Patrick can't even remember the last time Jonny got detention. "Did you get Mr. Nelson or Mrs. Anderson?" It's a Thursday, so it'd have to be one of the two.

"Nelson," Jonny sighs. He mumbles something else, and shoots Shawsy a glare when Shawsy adds, “Nelson’s brutal.”

Jonny’s clearly in a mood, and Patrick wants to find out how he ended up in detention, but doesn’t think there’s a good chance of Jonny fessing up while Shawsy’s still with them. He likes setting proper examples for the younger generation or something stupid like that.

“Yeah,” Patrick says, just to be polite, and then, “we’ll see you later, Shawsy,” because they have to go off in separate directions anyway, and if he’s upfront about it, they won’t get stuck standing around doing small talk for twenty minutes. He still has to get home in time for dinner too.

Shawsy grins though and says, “Alright, alright, I’ll get lost. Hey, do you guys run out here at the same time every day? Today was fun!”

Patrick says, “Pretty much. See you tomorrow?”

Shawsy grins and says, “For sure!” before taking off, but Jonny’s scowl is just getting deeper and deeper, and Patrick has to say, “Keep making that face and it’ll get stuck that way forever.”

Jonny huffs, but he relaxes the whole general aura of homicide thing he was rocking there, which was Patrick’s whole goal.

"So, detention," Patrick prompts, and pokes Jonny in the side, and then, well, keeps poking him when Jonny doesn’t respond. Jonny can move his hand when he gets sick of it. Only, Patrick's finger gets sick of it before Jonny gets frustrated by being stuck in the ribs, so Patrick sighs and pulls his hand back, but Jonny reaches out and grabs at his wrist in retaliation, curling his fingers around the length of it. Whatever; two can totally play that game. Patrick doesn't comment about it, just keeps glaring at Jonny, willing him to spill.

Jonny sighs, and looks at Patrick plaintively before he starts, "I saw that you left your jacket in homeroom, so I was carrying it around for when I saw you today.”

"Oh, yeah," Patrick says. Jonny had texted him so he wouldn't go looking for it. He'd managed to forget though, in light of the other text that had said Jonny wouldn’t be on time for their run. That had seemed more important than a jacket. “What’s that got to do with you getting detention?”

Jonny hangs his head, but says, kind of grumpy-sounding, "One of the grade twelve alphas just – I don't know, he got really weird about your jacket, and tried to take it."

“Maybe it's a scent thing?" Patrick asks, unsure. Sometimes when the wolves present, things go a little wonky with their senses, especially scent. It’s basically the most important part of presenting; movies and tv shows like to describe it as though everything’s black and white until you present, and then boom, color, and while Patrick’s pretty sure that’s a wild exaggeration of reality, he can get how it might be weird to adjust at first.

Besides, Patrick's been told he smells pretty fucking amazing by at least two grade twelve alphas this year; and yeah, it's way weird, but it's better than being told that you reek. He thinks he probably just smells awesome in general. Still, Jonny’s probably right: a random alpha wanting to, like, steal his jacket seems kind of… well, weird.

Abruptly, he realizes he’d never actually mentioned the whole, “Kane, damn, you smell good,” conversations he’s had lately, at least not with Jonny. It was just kind of embarrassing, is all.

But Jonny’s looking at him now, confused and curious, even, maybe, so Patrick shrugs and says, “A couple people have mentioned that I smell good? I mean, I think I just smell awesome, like, naturally.” Belatedly, it occurs to him that Jonny would be able to smell him though, because Jonny’s presented already, and if he’s noticed, he’s definitely never said anything.

Jonny’s face breaks into a scowl again, and he says, “Oh,” after a minute.

“Do I?” Patrick asks, and he hadn’t really meant to, but now he wants to know.

“What?” Jonny asks back, still grumpy and kicking rocks with his shoes as they walk.

“Smell good,” Patrick says, rolling his eyes. He’s not sure why he feels nervous about the answer, but he does.

It doesn’t matter. Jonny just shrugs, and not really looking at him, says, “I guess? I mean, you don’t smell bad.”

“Oh,” Patrick says. Well, that’s – good, anyway.

He and Jonny split off when they get close to Patrick’s house, so that Jonny can head home, and Patrick’s heading up the walk to his house before he realizes Jonny never gave him his jacket back.

Graduation goes much more smoothly than their last hockey game, mostly because it’s the day before a full moon, and Jonny basically bans Patrick from drinking more than a couple beers, even though Patrick totally manages to sneak in a couple shots too, while Sharpy does his best bud duty and distracts Jonny from Patrick’s whereabouts in the parlor.

Jonny ends up missing the full moon for the first time in—in ages, because of the NHL draft. Patrick goes running with his grandpa instead, and it’s kind of slow because his grandpa can’t really run anymore, but he can still walk and sniff at all the flowers, and somehow, manages to catch more squirrels than Patrick can despite all that.

Jonny’s drafted third overall, which is crazy but still totally expected, somehow, and it’s to the Chicago Blackhawks, one of the original six, and that’s—Patrick’s torn between being super proud and super jealous, even though Jonny’s putting it off for a year to go to college with Patrick. They’ve had it all planned out since they were, like, thirteen.

If Patrick presents beta—if Jonny can officially claim him as pack, before the draft, then Patrick could skip the draft altogether and just sign on as a free agent with the Blackhawks, because tearing packs apart is super sketchy, legal-wise, and they have all kinds of rules to make sure it doesn’t happen. If he presents as something else, well, hopefully he can work hard enough that the Blackhawks will want to use next year’s pick on him anyway.

When Jonny gets back, Patrick practically runs over to congratulate him in person instead of just on the phone. David lets him in but says, “I’d just wait for him down here if I were you, he’s being gross,” and goes back to concentrating on his video game.

Patrick shrugs; he’s been friends with Jonny since they were like six. He doesn’t think Jonny could do anything gross enough to gross Patrick out, and that includes leaving his smelly socks out for a week – which has definitely happened, even if Jonny pretends he’s a good kid who does his laundry every day. (Lies.)

There’s a quiet thumping noise coming from the room, but Patrick pushes open the door anyway, walking in and catching Jonny with his head tilted back, and his hand fisted around his—oh, oh fuck. Patrick’s mouth drops open and he claps a hand over it before saying, “Oh my God, I’m sorry!” and promptly turning back around and exiting the way he came.

He can’t help breaking down and laughing in the hallway though. It’s—he hadn’t even thought about it, but Jonny’s an alpha, he must do that kind of thing, now. When you present and figure out what you are, that kind of thing happens, where you want to, like, have sex and procreate, Patrick guesses. Gross.

He goes back downstairs and drops into the seat next to David, who grins and then laughs with him, and Patrick’s pretty sure the reason Jonny doesn’t come down, for like, an hour, is out of pure embarrassment rather than that he was actually, like, busy, for that long.

“Maybe you should get a lock on your door,” Patrick says, with a straight face, “now that you’ve presented and everything.”

David jumps in, “I’d help pay for it.”

Jonny kicks Patrick in the shin before sitting down, a little red, Patrick thinks, and he’s obviously pissed off when he says, “Jesus, just—shut up, both of you, fuck.”

Out of the kindness of his heart, Patrick decides not to mention it again.

Much.

He’s still anxious about presenting, when he thinks about it, and as every day goes by and his birthday gets closer, it’s as though his nerves manage to kick it up a notch higher even though he feels like that should be impossible. He can see Jonny getting antsy about it too, coming around a lot, insisting on spending time as wolves, licking at Patrick’s fur, and – Jonny’s been touching him a lot, lately, more than usual even and they’ve always been pretty tactile in the first place. And Patrick gets it, because while Jonny is Patrick’s alpha, Patrick has no doubts that in Jonny’s mind, Patrick is already part of his pack, and for an alpha, that’s a big deal.

He’d tried to calm Jonny down, at the end of summer; they’d gone to the ice rink to practice, and then out to get fast food that they eat on the curb of the sidewalk. “I’ll probably be a beta,” he says, and he tries not to sound uncertain. He tries not to sound worried, even though that’s all he is.

But it makes Jonny tense up anyway, and they finish eating without saying anything else. It makes Patrick feel even worse, somehow, and he wants to lean into Jonny’s side and take him in, make him calm the hell down, but – but that’s not something he can just do. What it comes down to is that, if they want to stay the way they are now, best friends, practically brothers—

—it all depends on Patrick presenting as a beta come November.

College starts mid-September; they’re actually lucky that the university is both close enough that they don’t have to rent out dorm rooms, and has one of the best hockey programs in the country. Practice takes up a lot of their spare time, and classes turn out to be a lot harder than they were in high school.

It’s good, at first, because it’s a distraction from everything else, but as they get in the hang of things, it’s not as easy. Jonny is more aggressive on the ice than he ever was in high school, and Patrick doesn’t really know why, or if it’s a thing that’s going to stick around. Coach suggests Jonny start looking for pack members. Patrick thinks that’s probably a good idea, and he’s not sure why Jonny hasn’t started yet.

There’s Sharpy, for instance; he has Abby, but they’re both still members of their family packs because neither presented as an alpha, and you can’t start a new pack without one. Patrick thinks they’d say yes, if Jonny asked them – thinks that maybe Sharpy is even waiting for it, because he’s in Philadelphia right now, playing for the Phantoms, where he was drafted, but he keeps talking about Chicago like he’s expecting to get traded or something.

And, well, Jonny was drafted to Chicago; he’s just waiting on Patrick now.

Patrick’s nerves are completely shot by the time October rolls around, and with it, the last full moon before his birthday. He can’t wait for it; it’ll be a distraction from the way his family is looking at him all the time now, like they’re nervous and excited for him, from the way Erica said, “You’re kind of starting to smell different,” one afternoon when they were playing DDR, and Jess had added, “I thought it was just me! Is it because you’re so close to presenting?” and Patrick, he didn’t know.

His mom just shook her head and said it was fine, normal even, but that it didn’t mean anything.

Specifically, she’d run her hands through his messy curls and said, “It’s just that you’re starting to smell like Jonathan,” and that was –

What did that mean?

His dad huffed out a laugh from the kitchen table and said, “Your birthday is, what, a month away? Did you think he wasn’t going to start scenting you?”

Which, no, Patrick hadn’t thought about it at all, but now that he is, it makes sense except – except that Patrick hasn’t presented yet, so making him smell like pack was kind of pointless this early, wasn’t it? But then his mom had sighed and said, “Yes, this has been a long time coming,” and he’d thought okay, because it must just be an alpha thing.

Jonny has been so unhappy lately, and Patrick knows a lot of it is his fault what with the uncertainty of Patrick’s birthday looming over the both of them. He’s still nervous, but he’s also relieved that this is it, the last stretch before home plate, and then it’ll be done. And as nervous as he is, he’s still pretty sure he’ll present as beta, and everything will be fine. Most people present as betas. Alphas and omegas – they aren’t rare, exactly, but there’s only, like, one to every thirty betas.

Patrick wasn’t exactly at the top of his class in mathematics, but he’s pretty sure the numbers are in his favor, here.

Jonny comes over early on the day of the full moon, scuffing his shoes against the porch while Patrick pulls his on, yells goodbye to his parents and gets a hug from Jackie, and then lets the screen door bang against the door pane. He jumps down the porch steps and says, “Race you!” and just starts going – it takes Jonny a second, but then he’s running too, never one to turn down a challenge.

It’s probably his biggest weakness, really.

Jonny catches him off the corner though, grabbing him roughly by the back of his shirt and yanking him backwards; Patrick has to turn quickly on his heel to avoid landing flat on his ass. “You’re going the wrong way, dumbass,” Jonny says, pushing him gently, once they come to a full stop.

“What?” Patrick asks, because he’d been heading to the fields the same way for months.

Jonny shrugs but shuffles his feet and says, “My mom gave me a coupon for that ice cream parlor down the street, I figured we’d get some before going. Come on.” Patrick lets himself be steered down a different street. They haven’t gone out to eat before a run on the full moon in – in years, because after that first time, Jonny had realized how weird it was. But maybe this is a special occasion, and it’s just ice cream. Patrick could do ice cream.

It’s a small shop, and it’s full, so they have to crowd in to get anything – a strawberry cone for Patrick, and a bowl of chocolate for Jonny, that Patrick basically steals because he likes the little spoons – and end up going back outside to eat, walking slowly towards the field at the same time.

Patrick feels jittery; he wants to get the clothes off of his skin and shake out his fur, wants to run until he can’t think anymore. He walks slowly though, because Jonny is kind of controlling their pace, and for some reason, he’s taking his sweet time. Patrick licks a bit of melted strawberry off of his thumb, and then crunches into his cone, looking up at the sky.

He guesses the moon isn’t even out yet. They’re early enough that they can take their time, maybe.

He just doesn’t want to.

“Come on,” he whines after a minute, giving Jonny what he hopes is a sad, pathetic face. He starts jumping a little, more than ready to take off in a run. Jonny sighs, but dumps his half-eaten ice cream in a trash can, and then says, “Yeah, alright,” and they go.

It’s still light out, though the sun is quickly falling, when they get to the fields and shift into their wolves, Patrick shaking out his fur and wiggling his tail excitedly, ready to run all over, and check on all his favorite spots. Jonny stays close to him, sometimes even nudging him a particular direction. Patrick tries to get ahead of him and hide in the underbrush, so that he can jump out and tackle him, but Jonny is always a step ahead and nips at his nose when Patrick tries and fails to surprise him.

Jonny, though, growls off to their right, and Patrick twists to look and see, because he didn’t realize anybody was there – and then he’s yelping and falling on his back, looking up at Jonny’s face where Jonny has him pinned to the ground, under his bulk.

Again.

Patrick barks, wanting up, but Jonny just lays down, still on top of him, and starts licking at his muzzle, through his fur and down to his neck, and Patrick likes it, he always likes it, and can’t help but tilt his neck up so that Jonny can have better access, but at the same time – at the same time, he doesn’t want to just lay down and be groomed, he wants to get up and play.

There’s noise off to the left, and Patrick looks, ears perking up, because that’s a rabbit.

He hasn’t chased a rabbit in ages. He tries to use his paws to get Jonny off of him, whining in his throat a little, but Jonny closes his jaws around Patrick’s snout, and then goes back to licking him. Patrick tolerates it for a minute, but the rabbit is still there, twitching in the high grass, and his whimpers get louder. He just wants to chase it, he bets it’s fast.

Jonny growls at him, this low, dangerous sounding rumble from his throat and Patrick’s ears flatten against his head, and he stops struggling to get up.

Jonny moves though, and Patrick waits a second, just in case, but then springs up and pounces at the rabbit, where it scuffles in the grass and starts running, Patrick right after it, barking. Jonny stays behind him, probably silently judging, but whatever, Patrick has managed to find a rabbit, and he is going to chase it, and Jonny can just—

—be an asshole, is what Jonny is.

Jonny jumps out in front of the rabbit, baring his teeth and growling, and the rabbit doesn’t even try to keep running; it just freezes, and Jonny snaps its neck in half between his teeth.

It’s not the first time they’ve ever killed anything on a full moon, because pretty much every wolf tries it when they’re old enough to try and hunt, but Patrick got sick after eating a squirrel and decided that was just bad business, and he’d buy his meat at the grocery store from then on. So they don’t – killing the rabbit was totally not called for, and Patrick is angry. He’d just wanted to chase it, and Jonny’s ruining everything.

Jonny drops the rabbit in front of Patrick, and his muzzle is all gross and covered in blood.

Patrick digs his claws into the dirt, because he wants—he wants to yell, but he can’t as a wolf, and so he growls instead, shoulders rippling as he leans down. Jonny tilts his head, like he’s surprised, but then he growls back, and Patrick jumps on him, still growling.

It only takes a minute for Jonny to push Patrick off of him and back on the ground, but Patrick barks loudly and jumps up, not willing to be pinned down right now. He just—it’s the full moon, and he’s supposed to be running, and happy, and all he wants is to go home, and that’s not fair.

He turns his back on Jonny and starts running up the trail, back to the forefront of the field where they’d left their clothes. Jonny chases him, but when he makes to jump on Patrick and hold him down, Patrick doesn’t want to deal with it. He shifts and he can tell it startles Jonny, but he doesn’t care. He starts pulling his clothes on, and when Jonny shifts after a second, he has blood on his mouth and chin and it looks disgusting.

“You’re an asshole,” Patrick says, angry. “I’m going home.”

“It was just a rabbit,” Jonny says, wiping at his chin with the back of his hand. He isn’t even bothering to get dressed, just watching as Patrick does. “I thought you wanted it.”

“Not to kill it,” Patrick says, emphasizing the words. “I wanted to play, and you knew that, and you killed it because you were all – I don’t even know what! You can’t just get your way all the time! Sometimes shit doesn’t work out the way you want it to, Jonny.”

Because Jonny’s an alpha, and Patrick knows he hasn’t helped by following him around all his life, but Jonny isn’t used to being told no about anything, and if Patrick presents as anything other than a beta, Patrick’s not sure what they’re going to do.

He’s tired, all of a sudden, and feels dirty. He really does just want to go home, and so that’s what he does, turning on his heel as soon as he gets his shoes on, and leaving Jonny on the field, fists clinched and glaring at the ground like he wants to say something but can’t.

Patrick can’t do anything about that; it’s Jonny’s problem.

Patrick stays pissed off for three days.

He realizes, after the first day, that it’s not really Jonny he’s pissed off at. It’s just that everything is coming to a head. He can’t make a puck go past anyone’s goalie for the life of him, he can’t concentrate on the stupid book he’s supposed to be reading in English Literature, and even though Jonny’s in the class with him, he’s still mad so he can’t ask for help, and on top of all that, when he goes home, his mom tries to talk to him about it and that’s the last thing he wants.

But Jonny tries to talk to him too, even starting with a, “Patrick, I’m sorry, okay?” once, and even though Patrick wants to be mad, he just – can’t be.

David waves him in through the front door and says, “He’s in our room, sulking.”

Patrick hovers in front of the door before pushing through, and Jonny’s head snaps up when he sees him. Patrick just sighs and sinks down to sit on the edge of Jonny’s bed, running his hands over the sheets.

When they were kids, Patrick loved coming over for sleepovers. He thinks he liked them more than hockey, and he’d loved hockey, especially the games when he’d get a pass from Jonny and tap it in goal, and everyone would cheer. But he’d loved Jonny’s house. He’d liked it when Jonny came to his house too, of course, but Jonny had had a little brother who could play war with them instead of three little sisters who insisted on tea parties (or braid ribbons into Patrick’s hair, even though it was too short to do all that much with). And Jonny and David had bunk beds, back then, so it was easy to make a fort; David always liked the top bunk, so Patrick and Jonny would bundle into the bottom one, hidden by blankets and pillows and having metal grenades at the ready for any sorry enemy soldiers that dared come into their encampment.

Mostly that ended up being Jonny’s mom, hunting for dirty laundry. But she’d laugh and say Jonny’s gross socks after hockey practice definitely counted as grenade bombs, and Jonny wouldn’t even put up a fight about it because it was true.

Jonny had a frozen pond behind his house too, and it wouldn’t work during summer because it melted too much, but Jonny’s dad was really good at making it perfect for winter. He and Jonny would spend hours out there, just practicing, or skating.

They still do, actually.

Patrick finally got better at controlling his shifting on that ice though; it took years, but Patrick has hundreds of memories of just—being on two legs one minute, and shaking out his fur the next, Jonny always right behind him. They’d run around the backyard until they’d collapse in a heap of exhausted limbs, licking at each other’s fur until they’d inevitably fall asleep wherever they’d laid down.

Jonny’s mom had found them in her petunias once, and she’d been so mad, but she’d also taken a picture and given a copy to Patrick’s mom. It’s still hanging up in the family room, next to the photo of him and his sisters making dumb faces.

Still, they’d agreed to stop falling asleep in flower bushes after that.

Or on the stairs – he remembers that one because it had been scary. He and Jonny and David had all fallen asleep on a pile at the top of the stairs, but Jonny’s dad was reading the newspaper and walking at the same time, and ended up accidentally stepping on David’s tail. David had yelped and woken them all up, and Jonny’s dad had apologized so many times it was almost funny, after. He’d let them have hot cocoa too, even though it was summer and chocolate is bad for kids.

David had slept in his parent’s bed that night, which meant Patrick and Jonny had had his bedroom all to themselves. They’d stayed up late, trading a flashlight and ghost stories until Patrick got so scared he’d shifted without meaning to, and then they’d huddled under the blankets together before falling asleep.

Jonny had said he’d just shifted out of solidarity, but Patrick, to this day, calls foul. (It had been a story about a putrid-smelling ghost wolf that went rabid on full moons and tried to eat kids that couldn’t control their shifting yet; no way had Jonny not been a little scared.)

He just – he loves Jonny’s room, loves squishing in close with Jonny on his bed, even if it’s not a bunk bed anymore, and they don’t make forts, and Jonny still doesn’t clean up his dirty socks after hockey practice.

Being mad at Jonny over this is stupid; he’s mad because he’s scared, because even though he’s sure he’ll present as a beta, there’s a chance that he won’t, and losing Jonny terrifies him.

Jonny is his alpha, and always has been, really, and Patrick doesn’t know who he is without that.

He clears his throat and says, “Hey,” when it looks like Jonny’s not going to say anything first.

“I’m sorry about the rabbit,” Jonny says quickly in response, like he actually still thinks that’s what this fight was about.

Patrick laughs, a little, and smiles, shaking his head. “It’s okay. I mean, you’re an asshole, but I’ve always known that.”

And then, deliberately, he tilts his chin up, showing Jonny his neck. The collar of his shirt is low, and his throat is bare and visible. Jonny fumbles in his chair before he’s getting up and coming over, pressing his teeth to Patrick’s skin, just over his pulse, as fast as he can manage, like he thinks Patrick will take back the offer if he isn’t quick enough.

Patrick swallows but stays still. They’ve never done this in human form before, even though they’ve done it so many times as wolves he wouldn’t be able to count them all. His heart is beating really fast in his chest.

But when Jonny moves back, he’s smiling and happy, and maybe proud, that Patrick bared his throat to him. It’s not as if Jonny didn’t already know Patrick wants to be in his pack; hell, everyone knows that. But maybe Jonny just needed another piece of proof because of all the damage lately, the heavy worry and uncertainty that’s surrounding them.

“Do you want to play video games?” Patrick asks, and Jonny nods. The sit on the couch close enough that their legs are touching, and Patrick feels calm for the first time in weeks.

Jackie whimpers in her sleep, sometimes, pawing at whoever is curled up with her. She ends up waking Patrick up while it’s still dark outside, his grandpa’s house otherwise silent. Patrick’s the only one awake, and he breathes in, deep, because—because today is the nineteenth, and everything is different.

Jackie smells the same as always, like apple shampoo and the same peppermint toothpaste they all use, and if he turns, he can tell that Jessica and Erica, lying on the floor on a pile of sleeping bags, don’t smell any different either. His parents—it’s not different, exactly, but there’s something that isn’t the same as it was yesterday, before they all went to bed.

It’s something simple; he just can’t quite figure out what it is.

Patrick slips off the sofa, landing on all fours easy and quietly; Jackie rolls over and into the sofa pillows, nose scrunched up and paws twitching. He shifts when he goes into the bathroom, and stares at his face in the mirror. He’s tired and pale and his hair is a gross, sweaty mess.

He just stands there and breathes for a minute, because his heart is beating so fast. Eventually, he goes back into the family room and slips in next to Jackie, closing his eyes to try and go back to sleep for a few hours. Probably when he wakes up next, his sense of smell will be even better, and somebody—his mom, or his grandpa—will be able to confirm for him that he’s a beta, and he’ll text Jonny and everything will be – everything will be great.

When he wakes up again, his face is smushed into the sofa pillows instead of Jackie’s fur, and he can hear muffled voices, and smell bacon coming from the kitchen. It’s probably too casual, but grandpa is getting old. He’s probably hoping Patrick presents as an alpha, so that he can take over the pack, but Patrick doesn’t think there’s even a chance of that happening. Maybe Erica, though. Patrick wouldn’t be surprised, anyway.

He could turn over and get up, go into the kitchen and eat breakfast with his family, but instead he stays still, and lets the voices and smells wash over him where he’s pretending he’s still asleep.

He gets up finally, when he hears Jessica whine, “Is he ever going to wake up?” and thinks they might be waiting on him to start eating. He rubs at his face when he walks into the kitchen, and Erica screws her nose up. He clenches his fist and sits down at an empty chair, mumbling, “Good morning.”

His grandpa says it first.

“Well,” he says, and he sounds, well, wistful, maybe. Patrick looks up at him, confused, as he adds, “congratulations.”

His mom looks like she might start crying, and she sits down at the table with a bowl full of biscuits in her hands. She smiles, and says, “I’m happy for you.”

And that – that means – Patrick is so relieved he slumps over in his chair and says, “I’m a beta?” like he’s out of breath.

“No,” his dad starts, and Patrick looks at him only to see him frowning, with his eyebrows furrowed, “smells like an omega.”

All the relief Patrick was feeling suddenly turns to dread, and he shakes his head in denial. That’s not—that can’t be right.

Erica swallows the biscuit she was eating and says, “Definitely omega,” and Patrick can’t help it, he snaps at her, “Yeah, what the hell do you know about it?” because she can’t smell anything, she’s younger than he is!

Erica flinches back and his mom yells his name, startled, but it’s his grandpa who shakes his head and says, “Patrick, son, isn’t this what you wanted?”

“What?” Patrick starts, and his voice actually cracks. “No! I’m not an omega, I can’t be,” he says, desperate, but his parents are just looking at him, all sad and confused, like they don’t know why that can’t be right.

He can’t breathe. He wants somebody to laugh, to say, “Got you!” but they’re not, and—

He’d never actually thought that he wouldn’t present as a beta. The numbers were on his side.

He’s an omega.

He’s an omega.

He looks around at the table, panic growing in his chest.

He’s an omega.

He can’t be in Jonny’s pack.

There’s a rabbit about ten feet away from him. He can see its tail sticking out of a bush, and the way it keeps hopping around, but never straying too far from that bush. He could chase it; he normally likes chasing rabbits. But this one is just reminding him of the week before; the last full moon he’d had with Jonny, that he would ever have with Jonny, and he’d ruined it by getting mad and storming off.

He can’t bring himself to shift anyway.

He doesn’t want to.

He’s an omega.

He can’t be in Jonny’s pack; he can’t even stay in his grandpa’s. He’s all on his own, and he’ll have to find a mate if he ever wants to be in a pack again, and he can’t imagine not being in one—but he can’t be in anybody else’s pack, Jonny is his alpha, he doesn’t want somebody else’s stupid pack. He wants to be in Jonny’s pack, but you can only have one omega in a pack, so what is he supposed to do? It’s not like he and Jonny—it’s never been like that, for them, and they’ve known each other their whole lives, practically.

You can’t make something out of nothing.

He can’t stop crying; long, heavy sobs that make his eyes sting and his cheeks hurt and rubbing at them makes it even worse, and there’s dirt in the air because he’d stupidly decided to run away to the field where he and Jonny always go running during the full moon. At least it’s so early that nobody else is around to see him sitting in the dirt, messed up and in his pajama pants and crying so hard that he can’t even see properly.

Everything was supposed to be perfect. He’d be a beta, and be in Jonny’s pack, officially, and they’d go to Chicago together and play hockey and get Sharpy, and Abby, and who else knows, but they’d be a pack, together.

He wipes at his eyes angrily after another minute, and maybe it’s because it’s all so new, or because he’s been so drawn up in his own thoughts, but he doesn’t even notice anyone coming near him until Jonny’s just a few feet away, approaching slowly. Patrick looks up when he hears Jonny say his name, and then feels like he’s getting hit in the face with the way Jonny smells, because he’s—

He’s not just an alpha, he’s Patrick’s alpha, and Patrick just – he just breathes, and looks up, and tries to smile. He doesn’t know why he bothers; he’s not fooling Jonny. But he swallows and says, “Hey. I guess I’m not going to be in your pack after all.” His throat hitches on the words, and he has to bite his tongue to stop from starting to cry all over again.

Jonny just sits down in front of him, shoulders hunched and his hands in fists. Patrick looks away from him, at the ground instead, at the rocks and dirt and broken strands of grass and weeds.

“Well,” Jonny says after a long minute. His voice is rough. “We can still be friends, can’t we?”

Patrick wants to say of course. What he ends up saying, though, is, “Until I find my alpha,” and he realizes he sounds kind of monotone, but at least it’s better than how he sounded before, “and then probably not.” He tries to smile again but he still can’t. “Omegas can’t really be friends with other alphas.” Gently, he adds, “You know that. I don’t want—” you to get hurt, he thinks.

He doesn’t want a different alpha, is what he doesn’t want.

It’s quiet for a minute, and when Patrick takes a chance and glances up, Jonny has this horribly hurt expression on his face, and Patrick’s heart picks up speed and he wants to say something to get that look off Jonny’s face, anything, except—except he’s shifting, suddenly, and for the first time in years, completely without meaning to.

He moves closer to Jonny, just a few feet, close enough for Jonny to reach out and touch his fur if he wanted, and curls up, whining low in his throat and keeping his tail and ears tucked in close to his body. He just wants Jonny to hold him, maybe, and they can just hide from the rest of the world for a while.

Jonny makes a noise and then he’s standing up and kicking off his shoes, and his jeans, and then he’s shifting too, pushing his nose in next to Patrick’s and pressing up close, curling in with Patrick. Jonny starts licking at his face after a minute, trying to be comforting, Patrick knows.

Patrick lets his eyes close and takes in Jonny’s scent for the first time, now that he actually can. Jonny smells good, the way he always does, but it’s so much more than that now. Patrick’s not really sure how to explain it. There’s that thing that just screams alpha, but there’s—there’s something else too, and Patrick doesn’t know how a scent can be warm, but it is, and it’s different in a way that’s not—it’s not bad but it makes him still, uncertain.

Something stirs in his belly and Patrick’s so startled that he jerks backward, pushing up on his front legs. Jonny cocks his head to the right, obviously asking what are you doing?

Patrick doesn’t know.

He thinks about Jonny; the way he’ll pin him to the ground and lick at his muzzle and face and throat for hours, sometimes, and how falling asleep together is the best feeling in the world. He remembers watching a movie, a couple weeks ago, and the way Jonny had felt too hot where Patrick was leaning up against him, and where Jonny was pushing his fingers through Patrick’s hair, tugging on his curls and gently pulling apart the knots.

He feels warm, remembering, and he’s not sure what that means, at first, until he thinks about a couple months ago, when he’d accidentally walked in on Jonny, head tilted back with his hand around his dick, tugging on it with his fist—

And that’s definitely what’s different about the way Jonny smells; and Patrick might not know exactly what it is, but it’s so good it’s making him dizzy and hot and unfocused, and really, stupidly embarrassed at the same time.

He shifts back, suddenly, and knows the back of his neck and his face must be bright red, and he’s reaching to grab for his pajama pants because he’s getting hard, thinking about Jonny and that’s not okay, Jonny doesn’t want him like that, that’s not how they are together. His heart is pounding in his chest and he’s freaking out, a little.

Jonny is his alpha, and—and a brother—and anything he feels about Jonny; it—it fits in those categories, and they’ve never even considered the possibility of being mates, Patrick would know.

Jonny pushes his nose against Patrick’s hand, and Patrick startles again, but lets out a cautious breath and leans down. His hands are trembling a little as he reaches out to run them through Jonny’s fur, soft and silky under his fingers.

Patrick lets out another heavy breath, and presses his forehead against Jonny’s.

He’s not surprised when Jonny pulls back after a second, and shifts back into human form, running a hand over his face like he’s having as hard a time coming to terms with this as Patrick is. But Jonny doesn’t—he would have told Patrick, if that was something he wanted, if that was an option. Patrick doesn’t watch as Jonny gets dressed. He’s never thought twice about someone pulling their clothes on after shifting, but like basically everything else today, it’s different now too.

For the longest time he hadn’t understood having to wear clothes as a human, but not as a wolf. Maybe it’s for moments like this.

“You don’t,” Jonny says, and then stops, sounding frustrated. He’s done getting dressed; Patrick can look at him again.

“What?” Patrick asks.

Jonny sighs, looking up. “You’d really rather be in somebody else’s pack?” Jonny winces, after he says it, like it’s not what he meant to say at all.

Patrick’s cheeks still hurt and it feels like his heart is in his throat and he shakes his head hard, says, “Of course not, dumbass. You’re—“ he chokes up, struggling not to start crying or something again, “you’re my alpha. You’ve always been my alpha.”

Jonny makes a pained sort of noise and then he’s moving closer, stepping over a rock, and he’s grabbing Patrick by the shoulders, pulling him into a tight hug. Patrick hugs him back, burying his face into Jonny’s neck. He never wants to let go.

“You could still be in my pack,” Jonny says against Patrick’s curls. His voice is quiet and heavy with something like—like desperation. Patrick stills where his hands are still clutching at the back of Jonny’s t-shirt. “If you wanted,” Jonny keeps on, and then clutches Patrick even harder and practically chokes on the words, “It’s all I want, Patrick.”

Patrick doesn’t know what he’s supposed to say to that.

But then Jonny is pulling back, and slipping a hand to the side of Patrick’s neck, tilting his face up, and all Patrick registers before Jonny kisses him is the determined look in his eyes. Patrick’s fall shut as soon Jonny’s mouth presses up against his, and he tightens his hold in Jonny’s shirt and does his best to kiss back even though he’s never kissed anyone before, never even wanted to.

The thing is, he wants to now.

Jonny pulls back an inch, and his eyes are dark and his pupils dilated and his breath shaky, when he asks, “Is this—“ and Patrick doesn’t think dumb questions deserve to be said out loud, so he leans up and smashes his mouth back against Jonny’s, and his breath hitches when Jonny responds in kind, licking into his mouth and moaning.

Patrick’s breathing, when they pull apart for the second time, is made up of little hitches in time with the way his heart is beating so hard and fast against his chest, like it’s trying to figure a way out. His fingers are still trembling.

“You will then?” Jonny asks, speaking so fast that Patrick has to mentally separate the words.

“I will—what?”

Jonny makes a frustrated noise, and says, “Be my—be the omega in my pack.”

It’s not at all what Patrick was expecting, or hoping, this morning. He’d never even considered it: he’s never even thought all that much about finding a mate, and suddenly Jonny’s asking him to be his mate, and it’s—it’s a lot, and he’s kind of stunned, still, really. Five minutes ago he thought he’d lost his chance to be in Jonny’s pack at all, and now—now—

Patrick can’t get the word past his throat but he nods, because even if it’s a terrifying notion, it’s better than every other option he has combined, and that won’t change just because he takes the time to think about it.

Jonny kisses him again; all Patrick can think is that he’s never touched anybody like this, and he knows Jonny hasn’t either, because he would have told him. He’s seen Jonny every day for years, but for the first time, it feels like all his senses are on board, and every touch sends heat pooling in his belly, making his toes curl.

“We should get you home,” Jonny says, swallowing. “I think your family was worried.”

And Patrick thinks – maybe Jonny is freaking out too; maybe Jonny hadn’t woken up thinking he was going to get tied down to Patrick for the rest of his life either, and this is just, what, pity? Patrick wants to protest, wants to ask or say something, but what if Jonny takes it back?

By the time they get home, Patrick has worked himself up and doesn’t say anything to his family or to Jonny before running up the stairs and childishly hiding in his room. At least he doesn’t spontaneously shift again, he thinks. That’s one for the plus column.

It’s stupid.

He’s never had those kinds of feelings for Jonny, and okay, so they were just like, waiting for him to present to come out with a vengeance, and all his I love you, you’re such a good friend feelings are actually shifting into other kinds of feelings entirely, but things are happening so fast and things are too jumbled and new and raw for him to even keep up with them.

He knows he liked the way Jonny’s mouth felt against his, and he’d never really thought about kissing as a thing that he’d like, but God, he kind of just wants to do it forever. Which is good, probably, since he and Jonny are—since Jonny said he wanted him as the omega in his pack, and that means mates, that means they’ll be mates, and that’s just such a big thing to wrap his head around.

If he’d ever thought about mates, before, he thinks it was in a vague that’s for later on kind of way, not right after he presented, and not with Jonny.

He remembers walking in on Jonny, that one time, and how stupid it had looked before, but it doesn’t seem stupid at all anymore, and just thinking about is making his dick twitch as the heat swirls in his abdomen, and that’s so weird and embarrassing and awful, even though nobody but him knows it’s happening at all.

He thought all of this emotional backlash was going to be over when he presented, not get ten times worse. He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to feel about anything anymore, everything’s so messed up.

Patrick rolls over on his pillow and yells, smothering the noise.

Jonny knocks on the door, hesitant little hits of his knuckles against the wood, before he sticks his head in, asking, “Hey, can I—“

Patrick sits up, crossing his legs and doing his best to look like he’s not freaking out, and says, “Yeah.”

Jonny sits at the end of his bed, and rubs at the back of his neck. “Your parents told me to take care of you?” Jonny says, and then looks at the ceiling, but Patrick can still see his mouth soundlessly forming the word fuck.

“You told them?” Patrick asks, flushing a little.

“No, they already knew.”

“How could they already know?” Patrick asks, because no way was any of this predictable at all.

“You’re an omega,” Jonny says, shrugging.

Irritated, Patrick snaps, “So, what, this was the only option?”

“It’s the best one, isn’t it?” Jonny asks back, almost a growl, like he’s getting irritated too, which isn’t fair.

“For me,” Patrick confirms, because it’s true, “but what about you?”

And that’s the kicker here, because Jonny hadn’t had to deal with any of this when he presented—hadn’t suddenly been overwhelmed with the need to kiss Patrick. It isn’t that Jonny wants Patrick to be his mate, that’s ridiculous; he just already thinks of Patrick as his pack, and this is the only way to not lose that.

He follows Jonny’s lead and looks at the ceiling, focusing on breathing in slow, even breaths.

He feels the bed shift, and is barely looking before Jonny is pushing up into his space and kissing him again, the same way he did at the field, licking at the corner of Patrick’s mouth and pressing in until he’s pushing Patrick back into his pillows and headboard, running his teeth over Patrick’s bottom lip and breathing hard, smelling like a mix of toothpaste and—and everything else, everything Patrick could possibly associate with him, everything good.

“I told you, didn’t I?” Jonny says, pulling his head back and looking down at Patrick, eyes dark. “I want you.”

Patrick flushes, even though he’s not sure if that means Jonny just wants him, like, as a mate, or like – wants to have sex with him. His dick is up for it either way, though, and he has to shift his hips, awkwardly uncomfortable and shy about it in a way he can’t recall ever being before.

“I – okay,” he says, swallowing nervously.

Jonny wants – okay. Patrick’s going to have a heart attack at eighteen, because his heart is going crazy again, like it’s going to beat right out of his chest, and all he can think is—

He’s never given much thought to sex before, and he thinks that might have been a mistake, because has no idea what comes next. Or even if that’s what’s happening here, because Jonny might not be on the same page as him, with, like, that. He bites his lip, looking up at Jonny, waiting for him to make the next move.

Jonny is just looking at him, like he’s taking him in, and when he asks, “Can I—?” Patrick just nods, and thinks that he’d probably let Jonny do anything, right now. He wonders if that’s something about being an alpha and an omega in bed together, or if it’s just that it’s him and Jonny.

He didn’t realize Jonny meant sliding his fingers into the elastic of Patrick’s pajama pants though, and he tenses when Jonny goes for it. He squeezes his eyes shut, until Jonny says, “Hey,” gently. “I don’t—we don’t have to, I just wanted—“

Fuck, it’s his first day as an omega and he’s already making his alpha question it. Patrick takes a deep breath and opens his eyes again, and says, “No, it’s okay.” And it is, because it’s Jonny, and it’s fast and he’s kind of terrified but he knows it’ll be okay, because Jonny’s his alpha, and he’d never let anything bad happen.

He bites his lip hard as Jonny goes back to tugging his pajama pants down, enough that his dick sort of—pops out from under the elastic all on its own. And, God, he wants to turn around and hide when Jonny wraps his fingers around Patrick’s dick, gripping it soft at first, and then tightening his fist. Patrick’s dick jumps in Jonny’s hand, and he just, he kind of wants to die, but he doesn’t know if he wants it to happen before or after Jonny’s done doing his thing down there.

“Oh, God,” he says to the ceiling, and spares a moment to hope none of his family decides to come up and see what’s going on, because that’s the only thing that could possibly make Patrick feel even more embarrassed than he already is right now.

“You know,” Jonny says, rubbing a thumb down the length of Patrick’s dick, making him swear in his head, “for the last few months, I just haven’t been able to stop thinking about getting my hands on you like this.”

Patrick is kind of distracted by the fact that his alpha’s hand is on his dick, but when that registers, when the last few months get through, his mouth drops. “You – “ he starts, and then stops, breath hitching as Jonny’s thumb runs a circle over the head, and it’s—it’s wet, a little, oh fuck. “I would not have guessed that,” he says, finally.

“Yeah,” Jonny says, and Patrick thinks he sounds a little out of breath too.

That’s probably a good sign. Patrick clenches his fists into the sheets, just to have something to do with them. His dick is leaking, getting all over Jonny’s thumb, and he knows that’s supposed to happen, like, he took the required sex education class, but it’s different for it to actually be happening.

It also feels really, really good, like this amazing feeling is just – pushing out, and it’s building and building until Patrick thinks he might burst.

“Does it normally feel this good?” Patrick asks, thighs trembling and voice shaky.

Jonny looks away from his dick, for the first time in what feels like hours but has to have only been a few minutes, and their eyes meet. Patrick’s widen and he looks off to the side, feels his face flushing even brighter red. He doesn’t know why.

But then his hips jerk, almost of their own accord, pushing his dick harder into Jonny’s fist, and Patrick is mortified. He throws an arm over his eyes so that he doesn’t have to deal with it.

“Hey, Patrick,” Jonny says, and Patrick moves his arm just enough to peek out.

“I don’t know,” Jonny says, and Patrick is confused for a minute, until he remembers he’d asked a question. “I always thought of you when I did it alone, but this – this is better. We could – I mean, we’ll figure it out together. It’ll be fun.”

Patrick wants to give some sort of reply, but all he can manage is, “Uhuh,” and the rough sounds of his breathing filling his bedroom as Jonny speeds his hand up, pressing his thumb hard under the base of Patrick’s dick, where it’s the wettest, and then Patrick is tensing up, and he’s reaching up to grab at Jonny’s waist, or thigh, anything he can reach, and grip him hard as something to – to keep him grounded, because fuck, fuck, fuck, and he can’t control his hips at all as he comes, arching off the bed as the sensation explodes and—and then settles, in his lower belly, and he falls back to the bed, exhausted and sweaty and suddenly understanding why people do this all the time.

Jonny watched him with wide eyes the whole time, but lets him go, after, and then licks the come off of his fingers.

Patrick doesn’t know if it’s gross or really, really not.

What’s really, really terrible is that when Jonny pulls himself out of his jeans, a second afterward, Patrick thinks – okay, his turn, but Jonny shakes his head and says, “Just – watch, okay?” and after that, Patrick couldn’t look away if he’d wanted to. His ass clenches tight though, the whole time, and he wants – he doesn’t know what, exactly, except that he wants something, and his ass is starting to feel kind of sticky and gross in his pajamas.

Jonny comes into his fist with a groan, and after, holds up his hand, silently asking Patrick if he wants to—and well. Whatever, Patrick thinks, he’s come this far, and he leans over and slides his mouth over Jonny’s thumb, sucking it clean. Jonny shivers, and Patrick thinks he might be getting hard again – which, probably not a good idea, they have to stop at some point, and he feels like this could turn into a never-ending circle if they’re not careful.

“So, uh,” Jonny says, “we’re – I mean, us, and – we’re pack, and we’ll go to Chicago, and that sounds good, right?”

Patrick’s pushing himself up off the bed, a little distracted by whatever, exactly, is happening with his ass – and yeah, he definitely should have paid better attention when they were learning about this stuff in class, but he honestly never thought he’d end up as an omega, and it was just – gross to think about, so he tried not to.

He nods though, because yeah, this wasn’t exactly their plan – or at least, it wasn’t his; he’s starting to have doubts about Jonny’s – but it, well, it works, because him and Jonny, they’re together, and they’re pack, and they’re mates, and even though that’s kind of crazy to think about, Patrick’s starting to realize that maybe he wouldn’t have been okay with it if he’d presented as a beta; if he’d woken up this morning, and he’d still felt like this, and he wasn’t – if Jonny wasn’t his, if he’d had to watch Jonny go and find somebody else –

Patrick turns around suddenly, and doesn’t let Jonny say anything before he’s leaning down and kissing him again, because he feels like he has to, like he has to figure out a way to say mine, and he doesn’t know if that’s an omega thing or something about Jonny that’s making him go a little crazy, but he can’t help it either way.

He pulls back, short of breath, and looks up at Jonny, who’s looking back at him with wide, surprised eyes, and says, “You’re going to be one of those alphas that states the obvious a lot, aren’t you?”

Jonny doesn’t answer for a second, but when he does, it’s with a laugh and a grin, and then he’s pulling Patrick down to press his mouth against Patrick’s throat, making Patrick let out a noise he hadn’t meant to at all.

“My family’s still downstairs,” Patrick protests as Jonny mouths up his jawline, and says, “Yeah, I’ve been waiting a year for this; they can wait another ten minutes,” and yeah, Patrick's going to definitely have a conversation with Johnny about the importance of sharing plans, before kissing him again, except then Jonny pulls back and adds in a rush, “Shit, I didn’t mean we have to – fuck, let’s go downstairs, we can –”

“No,” Patrick says, quickly, and lifts his legs up to wrap around Jonny’s waist, pulling him down and locking him in place where he belongs. He pushes his hands up too, pressing them against Jonny’s sides through his t-shirt. Jonny’s – he’s just really warm, and Patrick swallows, taking it in. Jonny just looks at him, steady and intent like always, and Patrick can't find it in him to be embarrassed when he says, “Finish what you start, Jonny, come on,” and rocks his hips up.