Chapter Text
It had been a shit day. A shit week. Hell, it had been a shit year.
Still Crowley couldn't help but grin watching all those tiny fists and uncoordinated kicks. Had to slap a palm over his mouth to muffle a rather unbecoming snort watching a five-year old trip on the leg of a dobok two sizes too big and go down face first on the thick foam practice mat.
His five-year old.
Which made him feel a little less guilty about the giggles he kept getting. Although the too-big trousers were his fault, which managed to preserve just a little of his shame. No way he was shelling out for another after school activity, though. Not when Warlock had a tendency to burn through hobbies like they were going out of style and Crowley lucked into a used dobok at the charity shop.
Besides, even if he stuck with it, he grew an inch every time Crowley had his back turned. The damned thing would probably fit him by the time he earned his yellow belt. Must have been Crowley's genetics. The alpha that had left him with a little parting gift five and a half years ago had been almost a foot shorter.
Assuming he could trust the drunken memory, that is.
To be honest, Crowley might've forgotten the knot entirely if he hadn't felt the residual effects of it the next morning. That deep ache that might've been more satisfying if he hadn't had to rush to the loo the moment he opened his eyes. And if he hadn't found the bed cold and empty when he was done emptying the contents of his stomach into the toilet.
Hard to blame the guy, though. Crowley knew what he was doing when he waltzed into the pub with the first trickle of his heat soaking through his pants. He had an itch and even though he knew better, he couldn't help but scratch it. The alpha whose name he’s not sure he ever even knew was just unlucky enough to get caught in the crossfire. Not that he meant to get knocked up, mind you, but all those hormones mixing with all that liquor was bound to result in a bad decision or two.
Crowley's still not sure if the condom he found on the floor the next morning that led him to believe he'd made at least one good one had broken and he didn't realize it before he tossed it in the bin, or if the short king that had stretched him like a water balloon had pulled the goalie. Either way he hadn't noticed how late his cycle was until there was no turning back. He'd blame it on being cursed with an irregular heat, but five months in is a long time to deny the obvious. And just conveniently long enough to make tracking down a stocky alpha in Soho whose face was getting more and more blurry with each passing week damn near impossible.
Child support might have been nice, but Crowley had to admit he rather liked having Warlock all to himself. Even if it meant enduring the pity from all the other omegas at play dates and pool parties and taekwondo class. They could whisper all they wanted behind his back, he'd still wear T-shirts with neck lines so low there was never any question over whether he carried a scar or not. He was hardly the first omega to find themself up the pole without a binding mark, but you'd sure think so in the social circles Crowley had to interject himself into if he ever wanted to get his kid into a halfway decent school.
“I heard that Gabriel has been having an affair.”
At least the gossip was good.
Crowley watched his kid pick himself up off the ground as he leaned closer to Newt. He was the only other omega in the room with a cock, which meant they tended to stick together. As if society weren't fractured enough, they went and did this to themselves, everyone far too concerned with each other's genitals when they ought to have been concerned that the earth was slowly roasting or that half the betas were on the verge of a riot on account of recent legislation introduced by the a/o majority.
“Can you blame him?” Crowley would be looking for love elsewhere, too, if he were bound to Michael. He’d seen her scream at the sabom for correcting her kid's form as if that wasn't what she was paying him to do. He could only imagine what she was like at home.
Newt risked a glance in Michael’s direction where she was sitting ramrod straight, her eyes tracking her poor kid’s every move for perfection as if they weren’t barely more than a toddler. Crowley looked too and it was only then that he saw the puffy bags beneath her eyes camouflaged with a heavy smear of concealer. He might’ve felt worse for her if he didn’t know the things she said behind his back.
“Anathema says it's another alpha.”
Crowley rolled his eyes. He didn’t much see why it mattered who good old Gabe was fucking as long as they wanted it.
“They love their salacious rumours over at the lodge, don't they?”
“And what, we don't here?”
“That's different.”
Newt peeled his eyes away from his daughter who was busying herself with an imaginary friend rather than assuming the proper stance with her classmates. The look he shot Crowley was nothing short of incredulous.
“Different how?”
“We need rumours to protect ourselves. They're just doing it to be nasty.”
“And how exactly is gossiping about Michael protecting us?”
“You’re the one gossiping here. I’m just the vessel you’re pouring your tea into.”
Newt huffed. He looked like he wanted to argue more but didn't have the energy for it. Crowley knew the feeling well. He hadn't had the energy for much at thirty-six weeks either. He couldn't imagine chasing after a five-year old on top of it all.
“Can give you and Agnes a lift home after class.”
Newt put a palm to his back and shifted on his plastic chair with a grunt. “That would be lovely. Thank you.”
Crowley was opening his mouth to dig a bit more into the Gabriel drama he’d pretended to be too good for when the door swung open and a sharp scent where it didn't belong grabbed the eyes of everyone in the room. Even the kids on the mats in various stages of tumbling and ignoring the sabom snuck a glance.
A flurry of movement swept through the omegas in the room, every one of them suddenly sitting up a little taller. Skirts were straightened and eyelashes were batted and as much as he wanted to pretend to be unaffected, even Crowley preened. Held his chin up and tucked his hair behind an ear even while he forced his body to stay in the nonchalant slouch he always assumed at these things.
He nodded toward the alpha. “Who’s that?”
The man was built like a tank and dressed like a librarian. He had a thick beard a shade darker than his platinum hair, arms the size of tree trunks and a chest that was seriously testing the buttons on his shirt. He hurried into the room hand in hand with a boy that looked to be Warlock's age, but with a dobok that fit properly. And not one from the bargain bin either. It was of a quality on par with the man’s loafers and the gold watch on his wrist.
Even Newt, who might've been the only omega in the room that actually liked his alpha, gave the man an up and down that bordered on leering.
“Must be new in town.”
Crowley couldn’t help but stare at the man’s forearms where his cuffed shirtsleeves awarded everyone in the room a peek of muscle beneath a dusting of golden hair.
“His partner must be sick.” No one that looked like that was single. And besides, alphas never come to these things. A competition, they'll show up for. Pat their kid on the back for the medal hung round their neck, but getting them to practice? Signing them up in the first place? That was omega work.
Newt rubbed a palm across the back of his neck and nodded. “Must be.”
“Shit, he's coming this way.”
The closer he got, the more it felt like the myrrh-heavy smell of him was wrapping around Crowley's chest, but like a weighted blanket rather than a corset. Crowley found himself slouching even more than he already was for every step the man took, but it wasn't until Newt whacked him in the ribs that he realized just how far he'd spread his legs.
As the man took the seat next to him Crowley straightened up and threw one knee over the other even though all he really wanted to do was bend over the nearest surface. He yanked at his collar while he did mental math trying to figure out when his last heat was. Only explanation for the tidal wave feeling beneath his belly button.
“Which one’s yours?”
“Oh, um…” Crowley felt a little like he was going to fall off his chair beneath the man’s gaze. He wrapped his fingers under the edge of it and scanned the group of children crossing the mat one wobbly kick at a time. When he finally spotted Warlock at the far end of the room he tried and failed not to chuckle. “The one that just fell over.”
“Not very coordinated at that age, are they?”
“Not very coordinated at my age, either.”
The alpha chuckled too. Crossed his arms over his belly and leaned close enough that Crowley could practically taste the floral edge of his musk. “At least they wear themselves out. Might actually be able to enjoy a drink tonight.”
Out of the corner of his eye Crowley watched Newt raise a brow. He raised his own in return.
Single? They asked one another without a word.
It wasn’t unheard of for an alpha to get custody, but it wasn’t particularly common either.
The tilt of Newt's chin told Crowley he wasn’t convinced.
Crowley turned back toward the alpha and offered a sympathetic smile. He couldn’t remember the last time Warlock went to bed and he didn’t pass out right after him. Or beat him to the punch and wake up with a crick in his neck from sleeping in a bed shaped like a race car. “Best laid plans and all that.”
The alpha smiled back and there was a familiar heaviness to his eyes. Crowley saw it in the mirror every day. That all over exhausted feeling that he’d learned to live with over the last five years.
“Ah yes,” the man said. “I'm quite familiar.”
Another raised brow from Newt.
Another sidelong glance returned.
And then a wail that made Crowley bare his teeth on instinct alone. The curl of his lip flattened back out the moment he realized Warlock had taken yet another tumble and wasn't in mortal danger.
Newt patted Crowley on the knee and started to heave himself up off his chair with a wink.
“I'll get him.”
Crowley launched to his feet before Newt could even scoot to the edge of it then swung his own chair around and situated it in front of him.
“Don't be stupid, Newt. Here, put your feet up. Ankles the size of bollards, I swear to god…”
It was hard not to sneak one last peek at the alpha as he scooped Newt’s legs up and deposited them on his seat before traipsing off across the mat after his now sobbing child. And harder still not to smile one more time at the man that seemed to be watching his every move.
“He thought we were together.”
Crowley accelerated through an amber light and looked over the top of his glasses at Newt.
“What, you and me?”
Newt stopped his uncomfortable wiggling and managed to look offended and gassy at the same time.
“Is it such a crazy notion?”
“You couldn't pull this.” Crowley took a moment to bask in Newt’s eye roll before he let his curiosity get the best of him. “Do you think he was fishing?”
“Fishing?”
“Do you think he was interested?”
“Interested? What, in you?”
Newt barked out a laugh and Crowley stopped himself from socking him. Really, Newt was lucky he was in the family way. Had saved him more than a few bruises in recent months considering how sassy he got during pregnancy.
“You're such a dick, Newt.”
“Are you interested?”
“Did you see him? Of course I'm interested.”
Newt eyeballed him. Took a long sip of the overpriced smoothie he’d made Crowley drive ten minutes out of the way for before he opened his mouth again.
“You haven't been interested in a single alpha since I've met you.”
“That's not true.”
“Have you even…” Newt checked over his shoulder to confirm both kids were too engrossed in whatever the hell was playing on their tablets to listen in on the adult conversation. “You know… Since Warlock was born?”
Crowley bristled.
“Of course I-”
“Somewhere other than at Ms Sandwich's?”
Crowley liked that the girls at Ms Sandwich's wore hormones as fake as their cocks. Balls deep in a heat he never noticed the difference anyway. And they couldn't come inside him no matter how much he begged for it.
Still, he didn’t care to come straight out and admit that he hadn’t been with an alpha since the one that had put Warlock in his belly. He shrugged.
“Doesn't mean I haven't been interested.”
“In who?”
The mailman. The guy holding the stop sign during road work. The cartoon wolf on the front of the cereal box. Really he was gagging for it, but he didn't trust an alpha any more than he trusted himself. Which is why he only let the beta girls fuck him these days. And only once a month so he could get it out of his system and get back to parenting which was the only thing in his life he was halfway decent at. He tried not to think too hard about why he was suddenly so curious whether someone might be interested in him.
“I've been interested, ok?”
Newt took another long sip of his smoothie. Sucked it all the way down to the bottom of the oversized plastic cup until he was slurping as much air as pulverized fruit. He only cut it out when Crowley shot a glare in his direction.
“I’ll ask Ana.”
“Don’t bother. You’re right. No way he’d be interested in this.” Crowley gestured vaguely at himself and the boy with the overgrown fringe sitting behind him.
“I didn’t say that, Crowley. Well… I insinuated it. But it was a joke. C’mon I’m supposed to be the sensitive one right now.”
Crowley pulled up to the curb in front of Newt’s flat and couldn’t convince himself not to feel that familiar pang of jealousy watching Anathema hurry out to open Newt’s door for him. He smiled through it like he’d always done. Life had never been fair before, no sense letting it go and get the better of him now.
He plucked the now empty smoothie out of the cupholder and shoved it in Anathema’s direction as she tugged Newt up and out of his seat.
“He’s all yours.”
“Just how I like him.” Anathema stopped and sniffed the air. Leaned back into the passenger seat and wrinkled her nose. “Is that you?”
Crowley’s brow wrinkled. “Is what me?”
Newt gathered his kid out of the back seat and stage whispered to Anathema while he waved his hand in front of his nose. “New dad at Taekwondo.”
Anathema sniffed the air again and smirked at Crowley. “I knew you were into betas, but I didn’t realize you were tri.”
“He’s an alpha,” Newt said.
Crowley held his shirt out to sniff down the front of it, mortified. Sure enough he smelled like concentrated want. “Fuck, was it so bad at the dojang?”
Newt cringed and Crowley knew he was about to tell a lie. “I don’t think anyone noticed over that alpha.”
Crowley covered his face with his hands. “Oh my god. I’m never going to be able to show my face there again.”
Newt cringed again, but it didn't look genuine this time around. If anything he looked like he was beginning to enjoy watching Crowley suffer. “You kind of volunteered to take Agnes during our appointment next week.”
“Fuck,” Crowley groaned. He was suddenly reconsidering his one and only friendship to save face in front of the handsome alpha that may or may not have been curious about his relationship status.
“Crowley’s interested.”
“Shut up, Newt.”
“It’s about time you get back out there.”
“Shut up, Ana.”
“I’ll ask around. Someone at the lodge is gonna know something.”
“Can’t we just leave it?”
“And pass up the opportunity to watch you squirm?” Newt was definitely enjoying watching Crowley suffer. “Absolutely not.”