Chapter Text
Wolves have the ability to understand each other's thoughts. This dialogue is represented by bolded text.
August
The forest is eerily calm as nature prepares for an impending storm. The sun filters through the clouds landing on the canopy of leaves. Each leaf casting playful shadows on the ground. The wolf's lean, black body skims the earth, cataloging his surroundings as he enjoys these last few days of warmth. With August ending, the weather will cool as his winter coat grows to protect him against the harsh winter months.
Each minute the sky darkens further, the clouds rolling in like tumbleweeds on a deserted path. He wanders farther and farther away from his pack. They live on the outskirts of a concrete village filled with judgmental and overly controlling individuals. Doncaster — a mixture of humans and wolves.
Harry would rather roam free, allowing his animal to thrive in its natural element. He runs one paw after another, the path worn from his continuous adventures. The earth is damp, the moss tickling between the pads of his toes. This part of the forest is dense, the canopies thickness allowing minimal sunlight in.
Raising his nose, he sniffs the air, guessing rain will fall within the hour. A smart wolf would turn back, head to his den to stay dry. Harry isn't a smart wolf. Instead, he chases the alluring smell of a nearby wolf. Only true wolves venture into the thick, where the roots of the trees tangle to create webs of intricate designs. This wolf is foreign, potentially lost in an unfamiliar part of the woods.
To turn back now would be foolish. Risking the fates, he pushes forward, sticking to the thicker part of the fields. The night has yet to take over, his fur all too noticeable against the harsh contrast of greenery.
With each gust of wind, the scent of this wolf teases him. Ever so carefully, Harry rounds the bend taking in the sight. There along the riverbank is the most beautiful wolf he has ever seen. Their head rests on their crossed paws as their tail sways back and forth, the movement fluid. A conductor leading an orchestra.
As the sky rumbles, a stark noise bangs like cymbals in the silence. The wolf whimpers, not yet noticing Harry’s presence. He finds this both dangerous and intriguing. From what he can see of the speckling of caramel coloring, this wolf isn’t from his pack.
Harry’s been to Doncaster many, many times in his youth. Never has he come close to anyone smelling as heavenly as this creature. The air is sweetened with every breeze, carrying a refreshing blend of watermelon and mint. Not even the bottles of oil and essences his grandmother crafts come close to smelling this good.
In no world would a wolf let such a magnificent creature escape their clutches. Instead, they would lure them to their den and bed them over and over. At the mere thought his cock swells as sweet pheromones tease him. Not only is this wolf an omega, but a male.
Female omegas offer their own allurement, but nothing compares to a male. Bingo, jackpot, winner—winner. Harry has hit the jackpot. Male omegas in these parts are rare. So much so that the idea of wetting his knot in such warmth has him drooling. He’s not picky. They can travel back to his den or be taken here beneath the trees.
He is aroused; incredibly so. Feasting his eyes upon this omega’s pink hole, his own scent thickens, gagging himself. At any moment the omega will catch his cedarwood and leather aroma, alerting them that they are not alone.
This wolf is the epitome of elegance and poise — the kind of partner any parent would dream of. Too bad Harry found them first. Harry, a free—spirited and driven wolf, is fueled by his desires. For him, companionship is nothing more than a fleeting indulgence, easily found through the thrills he offers. No omega could ever be worth the patience required when a satisfying knot is within reach. The very idea that he could ever be tamed is laughable to him.
A flicker of red catches his eye. Instantly, Harry’s on his back, the omega growls with bare teeth and angling for his leg. How had he been so careless and not seen them move? Too busy fantasizing, Harry’s cockiness left him vulnerable and open for attack.
He tries to wiggle, hoping to gain his freedom, his body sliding, sliding and then intense pain as sharp teeth sink into his skin. The wound pulses as blood trickles out of the marks.
A blue—darker than the deepest depths of the sea— captivates him. This wolf's gaze is both frightening and alluring, rocking Harry to his core. Normally foreplay is prevalent in his escapades, though this wolf is hardly aroused.
He charges again, his teeth locking around Harry’s neck. A sudden, piercing howl erupts, catching him completely off guard — that sound coming from him. With a violent thrash, he hurls the smaller wolf aside. Whoever he is, he possesses a strength that defies his size — any size.
Is it wrong that he's aroused?
The omega lunges again, pinning Harry to the ground. He remains still, allowing the omega to loom over him. There’s no true intent to harm — only a desire to prove strength. Never before has he encountered an omega so willing to challenge an alpha. The thought alone has him licking the omega's snout, a mix of admiration and intrigue.
The omega whimpers, his eyes studying Harry’s face intently. Harry licks his snout again, a silent truce. In a wolf's world, such a gesture is seen as romantic. Harry wouldn’t call himself romantic, though. What he is, however, is undeniably aroused.
How can one wolf contain so much beauty? Is this nature's cruel joke? He sniffs him from snout to nape trailing down the omega’s belly and ending at his genitals — intentions clear.
This wolf possesses immense strength, his muscles rippling beneath his fur with every movement. An omega faster than an alpha is a terrifying thought. He vocalizes again, this time with more desperation— a plea. Please. Don’t leave.
Each second is time borrowed as his mind rushes to formulate a plan. If he stands at the tree line will the wolf follow? If this omega runs, will his speed have him outrun Harry? His tail thumps against the ground as each thought and outcome plays out in his mind.
The sky rumbles as the first drops of rain fall upon them. The omega stares over the river, their eyes a stark contrast against the gloomy canvas. He senses there isn't much time. This omega is bolting, leaving Harry rock hard. With only one option left, he rolls on to his back and spreads his legs as an offering.
The wolf yipes and snorts, trotting over and nudging Harry’s legs closed. An unbonded omega refusing the advances of an alpha? Unheard of. Rather than embarrass himself more, Harry stands, shaking out his fur. My Den.
Time is running out as the rising water sloshes over the bank and dampens the omega’s paws. They whimper, shaking each one out. The storm is upon them, the wind whipping around the rain with force.
Harry nudges the omega gently, his nose brushing along his body before settling near his face. There’s a moment of quiet understanding as the wolf blinks slowly, the tension easing from his eyes. Harry’s heart races, his thoughts drifting toward the possibility of being with this omega. Each passing image fuels his desire, his knot pulsing in response.
Glancing to his side, Harry notices the omega flanking him. With the rain intensifying, his pace quickens, his den not far off. Suddenly, a bolt of lightning flashes, momentarily blinding him, followed by a thunderous roar that shakes the ground. Harry turns to check on the omega, only to find they’ve vanished, their tail disappearing into the trees.
His heart races at the thought of losing his chance. Pushing himself harder, he leaps over the bush, his leg grazing a fallen tree branch. A sharp whimper escapes him, but he presses on, running faster toward the omega.
He is fast, just as he knew the omega would be. Maneuvering quickly, he registers the sheer effort he exerts to keep up. This wolf may in fact be faster than most alphas.
On the horizon, the trees thin, meaning one thing—town. Scanning the landscape, Harry spots the wolf near the main road.
If he crosses, Harry will lose him. The muscles in his legs scream. He never pushes himself to this level. The need was never there. Closing the distance, the wolf stops as cars pass.
Push yourself, push. Now!
He leaps, his body coiled with tension, ready to seize the nape of the omega’s neck — but in a heartbeat, the omega jumps, narrowly avoiding him. The screech of a car horn shatters the moment, the driver’s profanity—laced shouts cutting through the air as they speed away.
One by one, the cars race past, each one carrying Harry further from the omega, leaving him stranded on his side of the woods. Their eyes lock for a brief, electric second before the omega turns, disappearing into the ravine and vanishing from Harry’s sight.
___
Harry’s heart races as he treks down the familiar path to the riverbank, anticipation clawing at him. The memory of last night's omega lingers in his mind. Their scent mixed with his own creating an envelope of toxic pheromones. He will not be returning to his den until the smell dissipates.
The sun rises in the sky, casting long shadows across the water’s surface. His wolf is restless and eager. Perhaps today, fate will smile upon him, and he can catch a glimpse of the omega his body craves.
Time seems to stretch, each moment pregnant with possibility as he lies by the river, his gaze fixed on the horizon. The birds’ melodies fade into the background, replaced by the thunderous beating of his own heart.
As the wind blows, it carries a new scent alerting him to a presence. Thump, thump — pause — thump, thump — pause — thump, thump. Paws.
Rolling onto his belly, he lets the roughness of the earth cool his warm skin. While the river is but a jump away, he chooses to wait and watch the approaching alpha instead.
Emerging from the thick, Liam’s wolf matches Harry’s in size. His eyes are brown instead of green, fur chocolate instead of black.
As Harry’s head rests on his paws, he picks up the alpha’s pheromones. Liam’s visit is with purpose; the anxious scent he brings nearly chokes Harry on the spot. The dirt stirs beneath him when his body hits the ground, causing Harry to sneeze.
Between their banter and bullshit, Harry has always found solace in Liam. His older brother has been his constant, a steadfast support system who’s navigated the complexities of their lives alongside him. From teaching Harry the ways of their pack, to light—hearted teasing during moments of change, Liam stood by his side through it all.
Even in the face of rejection from other wolves, Liam fiercely defended Harry — particularly when his promiscuity began wolf wars within their own pack.
This pack, these woods, and his two family members are all Harry knows. At four, Liam walked a wobbly legged Harry into their new home. At the tender age of two, he didn’t understand what was happening or what he had lost.
You’re thinking of our parents, Liam thinks, looking at Harry.
He snorts. Their parents are lost images never solidified into his young memory.
Harry loves his Nan — Clara, Grams— the endless names he has for her. There’s always been a charismatic charm about her, a charm Liam claims was passed down to him. He’s constantly bewildered by her uncanny ability to predict the future.
Clara is a private woman with a loving spirit. Endlessly caring for those in need, a trait she passed along to them. Too bad Harry’s services only provide a knot and one night’s company.
Harry tries to tune Liam out, but he can’t. His wolf mind races, replaying the day they first witnessed her gifts.
The afternoon sun was bright. The air was thick with the scent of pine and damp earth. A seven—year—old Harry, along with a few of his friends and Liam had spent the whole day running through the woods, their laughter ringing through the trees.
“Bet you can’t climb that tree,” Ethan said, his voice teasing as he pointed to a towering oak in the distance, its thick trunk stretching high into the sky. Its branches sprawled out like a spider’s web, inviting any daring soul to scale its heights.
Harry grinned, always up for a challenge. “You’re on,” he said, puffing out his chest as he jogged toward the tree.
Their friends circled around, cheering him on as he began to climb. His hands gripped the rough bark, and his feet scrambled for purchase on the branches above him. He wasn’t the most graceful climber, but his determination drove him upward.
“Come on, Harry! Don’t fall!” one of the boys shouted, their voice filled with playful anxiety.
Harry’s fingers tightened around the bark as he reached for another branch, his muscles straining. He was higher than he’d expected, his heart racing with a mix of exhilaration and nerves. But then, the branch he’d grabbed gave a sudden, sickening crack. Harry’s eyes widened in surprise as he lost his balance, the world spinning as he plummeted toward the ground.
“Harry!” Liam shouted, his voice filled with worry.
With a painful thud, Harry hit the ground, the wind knocked out of him. For a moment, everything went quiet, and then he let out a low groan, slowly rolling onto his back.
They rushed him home only to find Clara patiently sitting on the front step, singing a hymn softly. She often sang songs around the cabin. Most he was able to decipher, others sounded like words from a long—lost language. Her warm arms wrapped around his shivering body. She cared for each scrape with a plaster and ointment, soothing his wounds one by one.
“How about the time you were caught with her oils?” Liam often revisits memories of Harry's behavior when he needs a good laugh. He’s always been a curious kid and that day was no different.
The house was quiet, save for the faint ticking of a clock somewhere in the distance. Harry crept down the long hallway, his heart thumping with adrenaline and a twinge of nervousness. He wasn’t supposed to be here, not in this part of the house. His grandmother had always warned him about the door at the end of the hall, the one with the strange symbols carved into the wood. But that didn’t stop Harry from being curious.
He’d always been drawn to the mysteries of her house —the oddities scattered around the place, the cryptic objects she kept tucked away in cupboards and on high shelves. But the door? That was different. The air around it always felt... heavy, almost as if something was alive behind it, waiting.
His grandmother’s voice echoed in his memory. “Harry darling, this is for Nan.”
But Harry was young and reckless, and the thrill of disobeying made his pulse race faster than his feet could carry him. He’d watched her go inside a dozen times, her footsteps light and sure, the door clicking shut behind her with an almost secretive finality. Today, while she was out, he saw his chance.
With one last glance down the hallway to make sure no one was around, Harry slipped up to the door and brushed his fingers over the intricate carvings. His breath caught as the symbols seemed to shimmer in the dim light, though he couldn’t tell if it was just his imagination. He turned the brass handle slowly, the door creaking open just a crack.
The room was bathed in a strange, soft light. Shelves lined the walls, stacked with books that looked ancient — some with covers that shimmered, others that looked like they had been buried for centuries.
Strange, glowing objects rested on tables, pulsing with energy, and in the far corner, there was something... something Harry couldn’t quite make out.
His breath hitched.
A jar on a shelf, the one that caught his eye — a glass container that seemed to swirl with something inside. A liquid? Smoke? It moved on its own, like it was alive. Harry took a step inside, his curiosity too strong to resist. He reached out to touch it, the faint hum of magic whispering to him. His fingers were almost there when
___
“Harry!”
Her voice was sharp, like a whip cracking through the air. Harry spun around, his heart racing. Standing in the doorway was his grandmother, her eyes wide with surprise and something.
“What are you doing? Darling, you know this isn’t meant for you,” she stated.
She wasn’t cruel, yet seeing her disappointment made him feel very small.
“I—I was just looking,” he stammered, suddenly aware of how foolish he must look. “I didn’t mean to...”
She sighed, her face softening for a moment as she took a step toward him. “You shouldn’t be in this room, sweetheart,” she said gently, her voice calm. “It’s not a place for children. Not yet.”
“But… what’s in here?” Harry’s voice was full of wonder, his eyes flicking around the room once more, wanting to know everything. He didn’t understand the power he’d felt the moment he stepped in, but it was magnetic, like a pull he couldn’t resist.
His grandmother looked at him long and hard, a flicker of something ancient in her eyes.
“There are things here you wouldn’t understand,” she said softly. “Things that need to be handled with care. Things that can’t be trusted to a curious child.”
Harry opened his mouth to protest, but she raised her hand, cutting him off. “In time, Harry. In time, you’ll learn. But not today. This room is not just for magic; it’s for secrets — ones that you’re not ready to know yet.”
He stood there, staring at the objects around him, his mind racing with questions. The room seemed to hum in the quiet, and Harry could still feel the pull, as if the magic was waiting for him to uncover its secrets.
“Come on,” his Nan said, placing a hand on his shoulder, her voice soft but firm. “Let’s go back to the kitchen. There’s no need to worry about what’s in here right now.”
Harry reluctantly turned away, casting one last look at the room. He had seen enough to know that there were things beyond his understanding—and though he didn’t fully grasp it, he could feel that this room held more than his young mind could process.
As his grandmother led him out of the hallway and back toward the warmth of the kitchen, Harry couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d just stepped into a world he wasn’t ready for. But one day, he knew he would return to it. He would return to the secrets his grandmother was so careful to guard.
And when he did, he would be ready.
As they grew, Clara’s gifts were revealed. The night he went into rut, she offered a watermelon essence to help ease his temperament. She never mentioned how she knew, and Harry never asked.
He decided then that some details remain secret, leaving him to embrace the enigmatic nature of his lineage. Sometimes beauty does lie in the unanswered questions — often they are the most beautiful gifts. A bottle of watermelon essence still lies in his bedroom nightstand to this day.
Liam huffs, his breath hot in Harry’s face. His flickering eyes register his brother’s presence pulling his mind from the past. The time had come as Harry knew it would. One by one their group of friends left.
Ethan had moved to the city, chasing some big opportunity, never quite settling into the idea of pack life. Valorie went to art school, her paintings now hung in a Manchester gallery. Even Ben, who had once sworn never to leave this place, had found his way across the country, starting a family of his own. The last Harry heard, he was on pup number three.
Now Liam. His brother is no doubt bored with this life. Liam stuck around for Harry and he knew that. It was now time for his brother to leave him behind as well. For the first time in their lives they would separate.
And Harry? He will remain here, the same as he’d always had. Time had moved forward, and so had they, all chasing their own dreams. They had found new paths, new places, new people to share their lives with. But Harry has stayed, and always will. And that was okay.
He didn’t need to chase the things they had. There were different adventures for him. Kinds that offered him his own growth.
Stretching his limbs, he prances to the bag Liam dropped and gives it a good sniff. Liam has a bag for himself and for Harry, both wolves now pros at transforming. Shaking, he gives himself space as his body takes on its human form.
He is still lean and muscular, his thighs tight from the constant running. With a swift sniff, he can confirm he in fact needs a shower. He’ll make sure to head back to the cabin and offer to make dinner. Though he’s quite sure Clara already knows and will have dinner prepared.
“Spill it,” he says, once Liam’s settled.
“H, aren’t you tired? I’m tired, man. Living this life just isn’t for me.”
“Hope it’s worth it. Giving all this up.” He outwardly gestures to nature and all it brings.
“Harry, don’t you want more? Life is boring alone.”
He harrumphs, knowing full well he isn’t alone. Love is for simpletons and weak wolves. Harry is neither.
“Right. All those wolves in your bed. How could you possibly be lonely?” Liam’s words filled with judgement.
“Are you judging me? I’m fine with my choices, Liam.”
“I’m not judging. I just think…” He never finishes his thought, instead letting the birds fill the silence.
Liam doesn’t understand. His brother is the perfect wolf, the perfect human. Earning his degree online, he was supported by their pack in a way Harry had never been. Between the two of them, Liam is the pack’s favorite. Sure, they tolerate Harry, but only to keep peace.
Harry’s quite sure running security detail is his only saving grace. If it weren’t for his quick wit and fast pace the pack would have thrown him out long ago.
While Liam never questions him on his proclivities, it’s clear he doesn’t understand. There’s been plenty of times Liam’s snorted with each scent Harry carried home.
“Who is it Liam?”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t play coy. Who's making you question wolf life?” Harry isn’t daft enough to believe someone hasn’t stolen his brother's heart.
“Zayn. I…. We met a while ago. It was cute,” he says dreamily. “We both reached for the orange juice. I just knew. I could feel it,” he says, tapping his chest.
“You knew? Out of everyone in the world, you believe you two are destined for each other?” He snorts at the amount of sarcasm in his voice.
“Yeah, I do.” Liam stands, wiping off the dirt from his backside. “One day you will find someone and then you’ll understand”.
Never . Bonding, marriage, pups? Harry wouldn’t be caught dead engaging in activities like that. Sure, the yearning to procreate runs strong, but that is easily fixable. Any hole can curb that desire.
“H, I know you don’t see it now, but you will, and I just hope they’re as good to you as Zayn is to me. You are my brother, and I love you. I only want the best for you.”
“Look, Li.” He stands, stretching. “I appreciate it. I do, but I’m good. I don’t want anyone.”
“But why don’t you just try a relationship. I can ask Zayn if he—”
“No,” he cuts Liam off. “I’m not interested. If they want a great lay, send ’em my way. Nothing more, nothing less.”
Harry rips off his clothes in one swift motion, his bare skin feeling the cool air as he sprints toward the water, ending the conversation with Liam. With a final glance over his shoulder, he dives in, disappearing into the cool depths of the river.
Liam hesitated only for a moment before diving in after him, a familiar determination flashing in his eyes. Without a word, he grabs Harry by the waist and pushes him under, their old childhood routine returning without thought.
___
Paws pound the dirt, the pattern unfamiliar to his trained ears. Has he come back? Harry sits on his hind legs, his tail wagging as he awaits those blue eyes. When the omega clears the brush, their coat is shiny and full, just as Harry remembered. He wants to jump up to nip and lick but refrains, instead allowing them to choose the pace.
You came back.
Harry’s eyes lock onto the omega’s, the air thick with tension as they both acknowledge each other. He sits there, unmoving as the omega circles him. The intoxicating smell of watermelon and mint nearly drowns him on the spot. The omega stops, bending slightly as his eyes glance over his shoulder.
Harry takes a step closer, slowly, watching unwavering blue eyes. His tail twitches, a subtle signal that Harry seizes. He moves his snout against the omega’s, inhaling a potent mixture of submission and desire, spiking his own arousal.
With a swift motion, Harry jumps onto the omega’s back, his paws digging gently into their shoulders as he positions himself. The omega’s tail twitches faster, his muscles tensing in anticipation. Harry’s cock, already engorged with desire, probes the omega’s warm hole, seeking entry. He relaxes his muscles, allowing him to slide in.
As Harry enters the omega’s slick passage, they both whimper. The omega's body yielding as his muscles ripple with pleasure, the adjustment noticeable under Harry’s paws. As his thrusts reach a frenzied pace, his body tenses as his cock swells preparing to unleash its load.
The smaller wolf trembles upon impact, his warmth clenching around Harry as he’s taken deeper. There are wet noises and slick dripping from his partner's hole. The wolf, sensing Harry’s impending climax, thrashes his tail widely, slapping it against the ground.
The air is heavy with the scent of sex and submission. With a final thrust, Harry’s knot pops, locking them in place. The caramel wolf throws back his head as he howls, releasing his own pleasure.
Their bodies fall to the ground, both panting as they wait for his knot to deflate, the air thick with the remnants of their shared intimacy. The tension slowly ebbs away, leaving only the soft sound of their breathing, and for a moment, there's a quiet understanding between them.
___
Harry passes along the riverbank, awaiting the arrival of the omega. The call of the wild echoes through his spirit — a melodic symphony of rustling leaves and chirping birds. Each encounter has been as enchanting as the time before. Fall surrounds them, the trees bare for the impending winter.
A soft breeze carries the scents of pine and evergreen, igniting memories of their previous meetups. For the last few months, he has returned every day, waiting. Some days the omega shows, others Harry is left lonely.
He doesn’t mind. He’s found this nameless omega and they’ve spent more time together than not. In fact, their many rendezvous have satiated him enough to forgo other company. Harry won’t analyze what that means. He knows nothing about this omega, other than the sounds of their vocalization as he’s being fucked.
Suddenly, a bark breaks through Harry’s musings. He turns to see him — the omega — looking stunning. His eyes glimmer in the sun as he emerges from the thicket with grace, taking Harry’s breath away. The world around him fades into a blur; all that matters is this moment.
I’ve been waiting for you. Harry’s thoughts filled with eagerness.
The caramel wolf’s ears perk, as he bounds towards him playfully.
As you should, Alpha.
Harry huffs, wondering if he needs to remind them of what they are. Sex. Only sex.
As their eyes lock, the omega’s fierce gleam burns through his iris’. With a swift motion, he grasps the omega, pulling him into his body. Harsh breathing dances across the omega’s fur as Harry’s nose trails along his spine.
The omega’s tail swishes softly, brushing against Harry’s face once more, provoking a low, rumbling growl that vibrates in his chest. As the alpha presses closer, his chest resting against the omega’s back, the warmth of his body seeps through, melding with the omega’s fur, creating a heat that is both comforting and electric.
Submission allows Harry to fit himself comfortably behind. Gently rocking his groin in slow, deliberate motions as the friction sends sparks of pleasure through his body. He can’t tease much longer, his knot already pulsing as it begins to swell. Never has his knot swelled outside of penetration.
Not wasting time, Harry glides into the omega’s hole, thrusting with determination. He nips at any part of the omega’s body he can reach, coming hard when he is licked back. The action is intimate and unfamiliar causing him to explode. As his knot pulses he collapses on top of the wolf.
Harry licks at their neck, grooming them as they lie tied together. He isn’t one for grooming or any type of connection post sex, but he feels connected to this wolf and not just through his knot. Though the pull is strong, he refuses to acknowledge what that feeling is.
___
Pushing open the door, he feels the warmth of his childhood home.
“Hey, Nan. I’m home.”
Clara peeks beyond a hand knitted tapestry, a makeshift door she uses to separate the hall from the kitchen. “Oh sweetheart, you’re here. Dinner will be ready soon, so wash up.”
He smiles, thinking fondly of all his memories. The walls are adorned with vibrant paintings, relics of his younger years. Clara was keen on pushing them into the arts. Art gives the subconscious a voice is what she always used to say.
Every nook and cranny holds a secret Harry couldn’t wait to discover; hidden compartments filled with sparkling trinkets and dusty old books that reveal long—forgotten spells. Clara kept spells to herself, only allowing them to assist in tinctures and salves to heal all their adolescent alignments.
He moves down the hall, the creaking wooden floors echo beneath his weight. He stops, gazing out of the hall window, his eyes meeting the sight of the garden, where flowers and herbs once bloomed in every color imaginable. In this cabin, time stands still, allowing him to revel in the fantastical realm that has become his safe sanctuary from reality.
“You reek.”
Harry jumps, unaware of Liam lounging off to the side. “Fuck, you tosser.”
“Sticks and stones dear brother. Sticks and stones.” He’s inspecting the nail beds on his manicured hands. “Please spare us the stench of sex and go shower.” Liam throws a pillow, hitting Harry in the calf. He throws it back, aiming right for Liam’s head. He manages to get his foot. Hand eye coordination isn’t really his thing.
He makes his way back to the familiar confines of his bedroom. This room has been his for decades. Offering him refuge when his life became too much. These walls have seen it all. The highs and lows of his adolescent life.
There's a part of him that wants to roll around in his childhood bed and make it smell like his afternoon. The best part of his tryst? Their wolfish sounds. He may have met the perfect partner.
Grabbing a towel from the hall closet, Harry walks into the bathroom and starts the shower, stepping in. As the warm water cascades down his body, his gaze drifts to his cock, still semi—erect from their intense session. He can’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction, his mind replaying the omega’s whimper and moans, the way their body yielded to his dominance.
The shower’s steamy mist swirls around him, carrying the scent of sex and sweat. His nostrils flare, drinking in the aroma. He reaches out a hand, his fingers wrapping around his member as he begins to stroke it lazily. The gentle friction sends a shiver down his spine.
He can’t help but think about this wolf and their human form. Are they lean with muscular bulges in all the right places? Are their eyes exuberant in both human and wolf form? And their fur, is it the same color as their hair? Most omega’s genetic proteins carry the same cell memory as their human identifier.
Harry’s body contains a specific genetic protein that allows his human features to be disguised in wolf form. According to the books he has read, this gene tends to run in mostly Alpha’s. It allows them to protect themselves against predators since dominance between Alpha’s can be deadly. He appreciates science and the ability to protect himself.
He tilts his head against the shower tiles, his eyes closing as his free fingers massage his balls. The gentle touch sends pulsing jolts of energy through his body, releasing a low rumbling that echoes off the shower. He recalls the submission of his omega as he squeezes the tip of his cock, remembering the memory of their lingering pheromones.
He works himself, his breath labored as the water cascades down his body. With one particularly hard squeeze, his cock spurts, his cum squirting like toothpaste from a tub. He’s panting, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. This omega may very well be the death of him.
___
The warm glow of the chandelier illuminates the cozy dining room. Both Liam and Clara stand behind their chairs waiting for him. Harry has always cherished these moments. He may not have much in life, but at least he has his family.
Pulling out a chair he admires their long oak table, polished to a shine with care—colorful plates, gleaming silverware, and an abundance of homemade dishes make his mouth water.
When he and Liam were younger, they worked side—by—side with Mr. Roberts, a neighboring alpha. He taught them how to work the wood, sand, paint and polish. It was a lesson in fortitude and patience. Liam thrived while Harry whined. He didn’t understand the patience it took to create something beautiful.
As Liam takes his seat, an excitement bubbles from the Alpha. Clara — a sprightly woman with twinkling eyes — takes her place at the head, just as she always had. “Alright, my loves,” she declares with a flourish. “Tell me everything! What’s new in your lives?”
Nan’s questions were like confetti — a burst of color and energy that filled each corner of the room. Liam has that same ability to bring light and love. Harry has the ability to dim it. “Harry — what makes you full of spirit and joy?”
“Nothing,” he offers nonchalantly.
“He’s found a permanent fuck buddy.”
“Liam,” she declares. “I don’t care if you are taller. Language.”
Liam laughs, not caring he’s just shared Harry’s business out loud. Instead he’s too busy gathering fajita mix and placing it on his dish.
Nan's smile fades slightly, replaced by a gentle concern. Without missing a beat, she leans forward, her voice filled with compassion. "Harry, I do wish you’d give yourself time to appreciate the finer parts of life."
Harry hesitates, feeling the weight of the room's attention on him. He takes a moment to gather his thoughts.
"It's just casual, Nan," he admits.
They’ve had this conversation; a few times in fact. Every time his voice fills with a mix of hesitation and fear of her judgement, though she never gives him any.
"I like the physical aspects only. Love isn’t for me. You both know this." Scooping a fork full of rice, he shoves it into his mouth.
“He won’t listen, Grams. You know that.”
Liam and he may be brothers, but they couldn’t be more different. Liam, a few years older, has always babied him. Has been his protector and his confidant. If anything, Liam should be happy Harry knows what he wants. Don’t a majority of people spend their adolescence trying to figure it out?
"I wish you’d listen. I promise you darling. A true connection is a blessing. Your spirit beholds a kind of love that will nourish your soul and bring lasting happiness. Please be patient."
“Please,” he says, holding up his hand. “Do not tell me you’ve seen my future.”
There’s a heaviness in his chest. Clara’s gifted, Harry just chooses to remain ignorant to that part of their lives. She always offers solid advice, and helps when she can. Plus, he knows how this goes. Fate is destined. You cannot outrun fate. “Darling,” she coos. “You know I only want what is best for you. For both of you.”
A part of him wonders. Is there something she knows?
“I know,” Harry grumbles.
“Liam. You have news I presume? Go ahead… Share.”
Liam finishes chewing before placing his elbows on the table. “As you know, Zayn and I have been together for a bit.” He pauses, watching Harry out of the corner of his eyes. “We’ve decided we’d like to move in together.”
Nan smiles, taking a sip of her latest concoction. “So… I will be moving, but first I’d like you to meet him, Harry.”
He looks at Liam confused. “Are you not bringing him here?”
“No, Nan’s met him already.”
“A lovely boy, he is.” She sets her mug down, her smile widening. “Zayn spent dinner with us while you were…” Her eyes travel over him, lingering for a moment longer than usual. There’s a shift in her gaze, something unspoken — a vision maybe, or a quiet knowing. She hums thoughtfully, blinking a few times as if clearing the fog, then her smile returns, softer this time, with a quiet understanding.
“Am I the only one left?” he asks, annoyed.
Liam nods, as Clara assesses him over her thick black frames. “Harry—”
“Bro, you seriously can’t be mad. Remember you’re choosing to be alone. Living the life of a—”
“I have a job, you dick.”
“Boys,” her voice stern. “Life is a tapestry woven with threads of joy, sorrow, and everything in between. Each of us experiences different chapters, and it is in these moments that we learn, grow, and discover what truly fulfills us. Liam is moving on to his next chapter and I am very happy for him. The same goes for you Harry." She takes his hand within hers. “I am here for your journey as well.”
While Harry is lost in thought, the conversation continues. Liam regales them with stories of his and Zayn’s dates. How Zayn’s best friend has become Liam’s best friend as well and blah blah blah. Nan listens intently, offering words of encouragement and comfort as Harry sulks.
They round out the night with a game of scrabble, Harry focusing on winning more than the conversation. He agrees to meet Zayn the following week, that’s all he can muster for the moment.
___
October
“Harry, Jesus. We’re supposed to be on the road. It's nearly noon, you twat.”
He’s startled awake by Liam, towering over his limp body. Never has sex induced such a comatose state.
He sits up quickly, panicking when his wolf—with—benefits is nowhere to be seen. Why had they left him here without waking him? And why is Harry so bothered by it? He stretches his body, his teeth picking at a twig stuck between his toes.
“Harry,” Liam shouts. “Let’s go!”
Picking himself off the ground, he stabilizes his legs. God, he is a mess. Liam’s well down the path, gaining distance the more Harry piddles around. He gives himself a final shake, stretching out each leg before closing the distance. Liam isn’t as fast, seeing as his brother is in his human form.
The scenery is abhorrent when one is sitting in a car. The feeling of paws clutching dirt is much more preferable. The only advantage of a car is music, which he enjoys tremendously. In all his years, music has been the one constant that he appreciates.
There’s a song for every emotion, something he finds helpful during his moodiness. So, he sits back, swaying his head as classical saxophone sounds fill the car. Liam’s nervous if he’s playing classical tunes. The idea makes him chuckle inwardly.
As the trees thin he mentally prepares himself. Too many months have passed since he has been in town. As they approach the outskirts, he remembers why he hardly visits — People.
Liam maneuvers the car in and out of the lanes, his chin almost resting on the wheel as he drives. It’s a nervous trait. This wolf must be something if they’ve got his brother so stressed. Avoiding confrontation, he chooses to lean his head against the window, biding his time.
“Look. When you meet Zayn, can you just be nice?”
“Why do you assume I won’t be?” The thought stings.
“I’m nervous and I just need everything to go right, okay? He’s bringing his best mate and…. Just, don't be a dick.”
Harry huffs, “Glad to know you think so highly of me.”
“I like Louis, okay? He's a good kid, a really nice lad. They grew up together and Zayn thinks the world of him and values his opinion. I don’t want you going and corrupting him.”
“Liammmm—
“Harry, I mean it. Zayn and I are the real deal. I want to bond, have a family. Don't go fucking this up for me by messing about with his best friend.”
“Okay, okay,” he says, sulking where he sits. The fact his brother believes this hurts him. He wouldn’t do anything to mess up Liam’s courtship — if that is what he’s doing. “I’m not some feral wolf looking to corrupt everyone's virtue.”
“Your promiscuity speaks differently.”
“So what? I like to fuck. Plus, you thinking I want you miserable insults me.”
Harry has a reputation, he knows. Anyone who engages in intercourse with him knows his stance. He makes it perfectly clear. If heartbreak ensues, it isn't on him.
Liam huffs, his thumbs drumming idly on the steering wheel. “I know how you feel about love.”
“Yeah, for myself,” he implores. “I want you to be happy. I love you, you are blood, my brother.”
Liam softens. His shoulders loosen and rest in their rightful place. “Thank you.”
“But just know, if Louis’ hot. I make no promises.”
His brother laughs through tightened lips. Harry chooses to ignore it, along with the accompanying side—eye. Harry solemnly swears he’s up to no good. He promises.
___
Sitting on a hay bale, Liam paces back and forth, giving Harry a headache. “Li, stop. A beta down the street could smell you.”
“I can’t. Don’t you get that?” Liam huffs. “Of course you don’t. You don’t know what it’s like to start a life with someone.”
He’s tired of this song and dance. How many times must he have his life choices used against him? “Fuck off.”
He braces himself for another round of insults or confrontations. However, Liam's expression softens as he looks at a beautiful man with jet black hair approaching them. There is recognition in his eyes, Harry concluding that this must be Zayn.
They embrace, holding each other tightly before sharing a sweet, adoring kiss. Harry is too absorbed in admiring Zayn’s maroon sweater and abstract—printed scarf to notice the man standing beside them. That is, until the man taps Zayn on the shoulder.
Zayn turns, listening intently to the mysterious figure, his expression shifting to one of curiosity tinged with concern. Harry watches as he absorbs the man’s words, his brows furrowing slightly. Meanwhile, Liam’s frown deepens, the lines on his face more pronounced with every passing moment.
Zayn pulls a set of keys from his pocket and hands them over to the man, who nods before walking away. It’s clear now — there’s a secret between them, something Harry and perhaps even Liam doesn’t know.
Sighing, Harry plops back down onto the hay bale, scanning the few people who pass by. Doncaster isn’t exactly a bustling place, especially when compared to the crowded streets of Manchester or London. He would give anything to be back in his den, curled up in its warmth, letting his thoughts drift into dreams. Anything to escape the icy glare Liam is sending his way.
“Zaynie, baby, this is my brother, Harry,” Liam says, guiding Zayn toward Harry’s outstretched hand.
Zayn looks at Harry, his face going pale, his expression one of confusion and unease. They shake hands, Zayn’s grip firm but distant. “Nice to meet you, Harry. Liam’s told me so much about you.”
“He has?”
Zayn chuckles, “He has. It’s nice to finally put a face to a name. I brought Louis, I hope that isn’t a problem.” They stand in awkward silence, his brother holding his mate as they wait for Zayn’s friend.
Liam’s ponderosa pine scent begins to burn, a telling sign he is agitated. It is interesting how even with a burnt smell it still mixes well with Zayn’s grapefruit scent.
“Is your friend coming back?” Harry asks out of curiosity.
“Oh, yes. He forgot something in the car.” At the sound of approaching footsteps, they both turn to see Louis walking up. He looks the same: black hood pulled low over his head, sunglasses hiding his eyes. But as Louis draws closer, Harry notices something — there’s a distinct lack of scent. Must be a beta .
“Sorry about that,” Louis says, his voice higher than Harry expected. He hands the car keys back to Zayn, then turns to the group.
“Louis, this is my brother, Harry,” Liam introduces, though Harry can’t help but notice the slight edge in his tone as he says his name.
Harry raises an eyebrow at Liam, confused by the irritation that laced his words.
Louis extends a hand. “Hi,” he says, his voice warm. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“You as well,” Harry replies, shaking his hand, still trying to figure out what’s going on between them.
Once they’ve shaken hands, they make their way to the waiting tractor and climb onto the wagon. Liam sits beside Zayn, with Louis next to him, leaving no space for Harry. Instead of getting annoyed, Harry takes a seat opposite the trio and watches them quietly. There’s clearly enough room next to Louis, but his bent knee blocks Harry from fitting comfortably.
Harry gives the beta a once—over — his high cheekbones and button—like nose, the way his sunglasses sit perfectly on his face — but he can’t shake the feeling that there’s something about him he can’t quite place. He doesn’t know anything about the guy, but there’s an unspoken tension, a feeling he can’t ignore.
As they move along, Harry’s thoughts are interrupted by a nagging thought: Don’t fuck around with Zayn’s best friend.
Liam’s forewarning makes him chuckle. Speaking of Liam, his brother is currently whispering to Zayn. The two peering over at him. Rather than endure whatever bullshit is happening, he pulls out his phone and starts playing solitaire.
By the time they make it to the pumpkin patch, he’s ready to hop off. The obnoxious alpha beside him kept knocking his shoulder, a display of dominance. As if Harry were interested in his omega and three pups he’s toting around. Not a chance in hell.
“So, Harry,” Zayn starts. “What is it you do?”
“I work ground operations for our pack.”
“And you enjoy it?”
Harry pauses for a moment, his gaze shifting from Zayn to the vast pumpkin patch stretching before them.
"Well," he begins, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips, "it's not always easy, but there's a certain satisfaction in knowing that I'm contributing to the pack's well—being. Being adopted by the pack was a blessing. Working for them is an honor. "
As they stroll along the rows of vibrant orange pumpkins, he continues.. "Working with the pack allows me to connect with nature. It's a constant reminder of the delicate balance that exists within the ecosystem. What do you do?” He asks Zayn, observing Louis close by. The beta is rustling through the pumpkin vines, making his way towards a large pumpkin almost as big as he is.
Zayn’s lips curve into a sheepish smile as he runs a hand through his tousled hair. “Well, nothing like security,” the omega chuckles. “Lou and I work at the school. I teach art, and he teaches grade one.”
He glances between the two, Louis' crooked smile endearing.
“You voluntarily watch pups? Sounds terrible,” Harry snorts, earning a raised eyebrow from Louis. He can practically hear Liam’s voice in his head, urging him to keep his mouth shut.
Without warning, Louis shoots up, dropping the pumpkin he was holding. It’s clear Harry’s comment about watching pups has struck a nerve.
“It can be challenging at times, but it’s also incredibly rewarding,” Louis responds, his voice passionate. “The kids bring so much joy and energy into our lives. Plus, it gives us the chance to nurture young minds, help shape their futures, and allow them to become independent thinkers and problem solvers.”
Louis’ affection for his students is evident in the way he talks about them. "Teaching grade one is like witnessing magic every day. You see their curiosity, creativity, and enthusiasm blossom right before your eyes. It's truly a privilege."
Zayn stomps over a smashed pumpkin, the seeds spilling out on the ground. “You don’t like pups, Harry?”
“I’m not really a pup kind of alpha.”
“What kinda alpha are you?” Louis asks, inspecting a knucklebump pumpkin.
“Please, Louis. Just…don’t.” Liam begs, maneuvering to Zayn and taking the pumpkin in his hands.
“Why?” Louis asks, picking up another pumpkin. “It’s only right Zayn knows about his brother—in—law.”
“Louis!” Zayn shouts, his cheeks turning scarlet.
“What the fuck.” His head whips towards Liam. “Are you bonding soon?”
Louis laughs, pushing past Harry and further into the patch. “They aren't. I like to bust their balls though. It's fun.”
Liam places a hand on the omega’s back, his eyes searching the field. “Baby. What kind of pumpkin are you looking for?”
“Is artistic flair too broad,” the omega laughs. “I don’t know. Something fun and quirky?”
“Quirky is my thing, Zayn. Don’t try to steal my thunder.” Louis boasts as he moves past them all, venturing further out. Zayn and Liam follow, their eyes scanning the sea of orange for that one special pumpkin.
“What about you, Li? What are you looking for?” Louis asks, his laughter lacing the question. Liam glares at him, his nose flaring in annoyance. It’s kind of funny watching Liam get flustered.
“Size, because that matters to Alphas, right?” Louis teases, and he and Zayn throw their heads back in laughter.
“I was just waiting for you to make an inappropriate joke,” Liam grumbles, inspecting a pumpkin that’s way too large for anyone to carry.
“See, size,” Louis adds.
“What about this one?” Zayn holds up a pumpkin, its vibrant orange color catching the light. “It’s unique, right? And the color is perfect—the ideal pumpkin orange.” Liam turns away, though he seems to listen intently as Zayn points out the swirls and etched patterns on the pumpkin’s surface.
Harry smiles to himself, deciding to give them some space. He veers off, avoiding a nearby crowd, content to let them continue their conversation.
Harry wasn’t sure what he was looking for. He wandered aimlessly through the patch, his attention drifting from one scene to the next. He finds himself people—watching. Near the back of the patch, an Alpha—Omega pair smiled at each other, hand—in—hand, pointing out pumpkins with a shared joy. To his left, a family stood with their smallest pup, struggling to lift a pumpkin twice his size. Harry couldn’t help but chuckle as he passed them.
“Lou, what about this one?” Zayn’s voice rang out, and Harry turned to see him holding up a gourd, a smirk playing on his lips. “Do you think this is quirky enough?” He tosses it to Louis, who catches it with ease. They were close and he could now understand why Liam had been so insistent on him keeping his distance.
“Harry. You good?” Liam’s voice brought him back to the present. Liam was holding two medium—sized pumpkins, Zayn had two smaller ones, and Louis had the gourd and another small pumpkin. Harry, on the other hand, was empty—handed — and, surprisingly, okay with it.
The ride back to the farm was a mirror of his earlier solitude. The tractor was packed, forcing Harry to sit farther away from the others. He could still watch them, though. Louis' presence pulls his attention. Louis leans against the front of the wagon, his arm draped over the side, while Zayn sits beside him, his head resting on Liam’s shoulder. Liam has his arm wrapped around Zayn, holding him close. Harry feels like an outsider, like the invisible presence they barely noticed.
When the tractor starts moving, Louis' hood flies back, revealing strands of caramel hair, tousled in the wind. Something stirs within him, a wave of unexpected desire. He studies the color of each strand, the way the light hits it, and finds himself mesmerized. Louis is beautiful, and Harry can’t deny it, though he feels a twinge of guilt for it.
As the tractor pulls to a stop, Harry jumps off, eager to stretch his legs after being cramped between people and pumpkins for what felt like ages. His hair, once neatly tied back, has come undone, and he runs his fingers through it, trying to untangle the mess. It was when he was focused on a stubborn knot that a voice interrupted him.
“Hi.”
He turns and recognizes her instantly. She had been a brief conquest at the start of the summer. A few tumbles in his den, then he’d moved on.
“Hi,” he replied, trying to keep it light.
“Are you busy? We could…” She nodded toward the exit, her meaning clear. Harry tried to ignore it, but he could feel Liam, Zayn, and Louis all watching. He didn’t want to entertain this right now.
“I’m gonna pass. Have a great night,” Harry said, trying to brush past her, but she grabbed his wrist, halting him.
“But… we had a good time, didn’t we?” Her voice was soft but insistent.
Normally, Harry would be fine with this conversation. Hell, it was one of his usual exchanges. But now? It felt wrong. Inappropriate. “Yes, but—”
“So let’s do it again,” she pressed, her finger trailing up the buttons of his shirt. “It doesn’t have to mean anything. I know that. I’m good for it, you know I am.”
Harry notices Zayn’s eyes widen before exchanging a glance with Louis. There was an unspoken understanding between them, something Harry could feel even from across the way. They knew. They knew his reputation, and now it was on full display in front of them, like a punch to the gut. He didn’t want this to affect Liam’s relationship, didn’t want it to cast a shadow over everything he’s been building.
He glanced at Zayn again, who instinctively wrapped his arm around mates waist, as if to protect him from the scene unfolding. Liam’s gaze burned with something dark, his eyes fixed on Harry, his expression deepening with each word the omega spoke. Louis, however, seemed unfazed, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, watching on with mild amusement.
When the omega finally walked off, Harry felt the weight of the moment shift. Zayn and Louis shared another look — this time, it seemed laced with concern. Harry couldn’t help but feel like a walking contradiction, living a life that was both liberating and dangerously close to breaking him.
“Are you done, or should we go take a seat?” Liam’s voice cut through the tension, sharp and edged with something that made Harry’s alpha instincts twitch.
“I’m good,” Harry muttered through clenched teeth, his anger and frustration bubbling just beneath the surface.
Harry wasn’t sure what he was looking for. He walked aimlessly, people watching. There was an alpha—omega pair towards the back of the patch. They were constant smiles as they held hands pointing to different pumpkins.
A family was to his left, their smallest pup trying hard to pick up one that was easily twice his size. Harry had a small chuckle as he walked past them.
Liam pays for their pumpkins, setting them in a cart as Louis and Zayn decide to walk the flea market. Harry trudges behind as they pick up random trinkets. Stopping at a nautical themed booth, Louis holds up a handheld monocular scope. The item is brown with gold trim. He and Zayn get a giggle while taking turns looking through the peephole.
As Harry browses through the items, his gaze lands on a peculiar antique compass. Intrigued, he picks it up, admiring the intricate carvings along its sides. His fingers trace the delicate patterns, feeling the smoothness of the metal before he gently places it back down. When he looks up, Louis and Zayn are smiling at him, and he senses their quiet approval as he walks ahead of them.
“Oh, it’s cider!” Harry exclaims, practically sprinting to the vendor, his wallet already in hand. “Anybody want some?”
Liam glances at Zayn, who gives a sheepish smile.
“I would. Thanks,” Zayn says.
Harry quickly buys four cups, handing two to Liam and the third to Louis. He keeps the last one for himself and follows them toward the exit.
“I think we did good, babe. Don’t you?”
“I’m happy with what we’ve got. Can’t wait to carve these and set them up on the front porch,” Zayn replies, his tone light as they continue walking. They pause briefly to check the street before crossing.
“No freaky stuff, Zayn. I mean it,” Louis adds, looking at Zayn with mock sternness. “I don’t want the pups getting scared.”
Curious, Harry can’t help but ask, “Do you and Zayn live together?”
“We do,” Louis answers, glancing at Zayn, “Well, until they find a place they like.”
Harry raises an eyebrow. “Who’s finding a place?”
Louis points to Liam, who’s smiling as he pops the trunk of his car. “Liam. He’s been looking for a while.”
“Are you moving?” Harry asks, his curiosity piqued.
Liam rolls his eyes, clearly exasperated. “Harry, we’ve talked about this. I told you I’m serious.”
Harry remembers, he does. Maybe he should pay closer attention when people talk. He just wasn’t aware how serious Liam was. Moving in with someone is serious. At least it is to him. Sharing space with someone is serious stuff. They will always be there. Nagging and pestering. If Harry wanted someone to annoy him, he’d get a bird.
They say their goodbyes. Liam kissing Zayn before hugging Louis goodbye. “As always, it’s been a pleasure. Take care, Lou.”
“You as well, Li.” Louis hugs him back.
Harry’s alpha really hates those fucking sunglasses perched on the beta’s face. He’d like to rip them off and throw them into the nearest bin.
It’s an irrational feeling for him. The need and desire to care alone is frightening.
“Harry. It was a pleasure meeting you. We’ll have to hang out more often.” Zayn is sweet, offering his hand in which Harry shakes. He can see why Liam is so infatuated. Zayn is lovely.
“You as well. Don’t let him get to ya.”
Being a good sport Zayn chuckles. “Are you coming over later?” Zayn’s question is hushed, as if it is only for Liam to hear. The alpha nods, kissing him one more time.
“Harry,” Louis’ voice sounds, pulling him from where he was looking at Zayn and Liam. “It was nice to meet you.”
“You as well.” Louis doesn’t offer a hand, so neither does Harry. Instead he sips on his cider, allowing the beverage to warm his insides.
___
They’ve been in the car for ten minutes. Zayn and Louis turning left while Liam turns right. He’s quiet, yet his hands are gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles are turning white.
Harry would ask what’s up, but he can’t think of a single thing wrong with their afternoon. He’s been a perfect gentleman. He was cordial and polite and bought everyone cider. What’s the problem?
He’s mid—sip of his apple cider —trying not to spill— when suddenly, Liam SLAMS his hands on the wheel. The car jerks like it's had too much coffee, and Harry’s drink goes flying.
“Goddamn it, Harry!” Liam roars.
The outburst makes him choke, his drink now splattered across his face, his shirt, his dignity. He smells like he’s just survived an apple—themed attack.
“Can you seriously not keep your knot out of an omega? My god. You're insufferable. Zayn is never going to talk to me again.”
Harry blinks. "What?"
Liam keeps ranting, oblivious to Harry’s complete lack of understanding. “I said stay away from his fucking friend!”
Harry’s brain is on a hamster wheel going nowhere. “Wait, what? I — What? I literally— I. What is happening right now?”
Liam continues his tirade, and Harry’s too busy wiping cider off his shirt like he's preparing for an audition as a human napkin to process any of it.
Without warning, the car jerks to the side. Liam has pulled over. Steam is practically shooting from his ears. He looks like a cartoon character who's about to turn into a puddle of angry goo. “Get out.”
“Get out? Like... get out of the car?” Harry’s still processing like someone who’s just been told they’ve won the lottery but also didn’t buy a ticket.
Liam’s face is redder than a tomato at a sunbathing competition. “Yes. Get out. I don’t care where you go. I just don’t want to see you right now.”
Still in a state of confusion and cider shock, he refuses to move. He crosses his arms, making sure to look as dramatic as humanly possible, like he's in a Shakespearean tragedy.
He’s honestly kind of hoping Liam will break into song.
But Liam doesn’t. Instead, he glares at him like he’s the world’s most annoying riddle.
“You... you want me to get out? After I just accidentally became the victim of an apple cider attack?”
Liam, in no mood for jokes, just glares harder. His eyes are practically daggers.
Harry sighs, leans back in his seat, and decides that maybe this will be one of those ‘I’ll laugh about this later’ situations.
He will not move! Refusing to move, he chooses to cross his arms in defiance as his eyes close briefly to shut everything else out. In a moment of bravery he chanced a glance at his brother. Liam’s chest rises and falls, each breath becoming steadier. His clenched jaw now relaxed, though his fists still remain tight on the steering wheel.
“How long have you been screwing Louis?”
“I’m—” Harry starts, but Liam cuts him off.
“If you’re going to deny it, get out!” Liam snaps, his hand reaching across Harry’s body to grab the door handle. With one swift motion, he pulls the handle, throwing the door open from where he sits.
“I meant what I said. I love Zayn, and I won’t let you ruin this.”
Harry’s confusion only deepens. “I legitimately don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve never even met Louis before today.”
The car falls into a heavy silence. The only sounds are the deep, uneven breaths of both of them. Liam’s face is a storm of emotions —anger, confusion, hurt, pain— and Harry can’t even begin to understand why. He’s just trying to clean cider off his shirt, but now he’s caught in this mess.
He’s thankful for the fresh air, though, hoping it might clear the pheromones suffocating the space.
“Please. Just get out,” Liam’s voice comes out soft but strained, the weight of it pressing on Harry’s chest.
“Liam, I didn’t—”
But Liam doesn’t answer. Instead, he looks forward, his gaze locked on the road ahead, waiting, his hands rigid on the wheel.
It’s one of the hardest things Harry’s ever done. Hurting Liam was never an option, and yet somehow, he has done just that — without meaning to.
He steps out of the car and closes the door with a soft thud. He watches as Liam drives off, leaving him alone on the side of the road, cider—splattered and utterly confused.