Making dinner for his alphas seemed like a nice place to start.
Tex and Carver were both due to come home at around six, and feeling inspired, Peter texted them to skip picking up dinner, telling them that he would take care of it.
An hour later and Peter realized that he’d made a mistake. It turned out that following along with a cooking show was more difficult than he’d anticipated. Even with a DVR and being able to rewind and pause whenever he needed to, the pasta in his pan looked nothing like what was on the TV.
Lumpy and watery, his sauce didn’t look anything remotely like the shiny, thick deliciousness clinging to the strands of pasta on the TV screen.
It was infuriating, and with Carver and Tex due to come home any minute, humiliating.
Peter had always thought that if he ever decided to cook, he’d be good at it. Thinking back now, he had no idea where his confidence had come from, but it had clearly been misplaced.
Staring at the gray mess in the pan, Peter knew that he had to face facts and admit to himself that he couldn’t serve the food he’d prepared. The salad and garlic bread were okay, but the main dish was an inedible mess.
He’d tasted it just to make sure, and it was awful.
Normally in a situation like this, Peter would have gone online and ordered something from a food delivery service. He wouldn’t have pretended that the food was his, but at least then he would have had something to serve. Only Peter didn’t have any money to order food. He’d arrived at Tex and Carver’s house with nothing but the clothes on his back, and though he’d been given a new wardrobe and a new phone, he couldn’t buy things for himself.
It was depressing, reminding Peter that at the end of the day, he was entirely at Tex and Carver’s mercy.
When Carver arrived home, Peter was sitting on the couch feeling sorry for himself, the food going cold in the kitchen.
“Everything okay?” Carver asked, walking into the living room. He was wearing a navy blue suit, and even though he was depressed, Peter could appreciate how nice he looked.
“I fucked up dinner,” Peter admitted. “I tried to make carbonara, but something went wrong.”
Taking off his suit jacket, Carver sat down on the couch next to him.
“I’m sorry. It sucks when that happens,” Carver said, not sounding annoyed in the slightest. He loosened his tie and grinned. “You should have seen Tex’s attempt at brownies for the precinct potluck last year. They were so hard that we ended up having to chip them out of the pan.”
The mental image was enough to put a small smile on Peter’s face.
“I’ve never really cooked before,” Peter said. “I thought it would be easier.”
“We’ll order something and have it delivered,” Carver said, reaching out and massaging Peter’s neck. “It’s not a big deal.”
“I just wanted to do something nice for you,” Peter mumbled, embarrassed.
Carver was quiet for a beat, and when he spoke, he sounded very careful. “You don’t have to do things for Tex and me. We don’t exactly deserve it.”
He sounded guilty, and when Peter looked at his face, he couldn’t meet his eyes. Peter was happy that Carver didn’t feel good about buying him, but in the long run, they were going to have to get past it.
“Maybe not,” he said, just as careful. “But I like you, and if this is going to work, we have to move past how I ended up here.”
“Can you do that?” Carver asked. The question wasn’t challenging, just thoughtful.
“I can try,” Peter said. “I want to.”
They were quiet for several minutes, the silence broken by the sound of Tex’s motorcycle coming up the driveway. A few minutes later, they heard the alpha himself striding into the house, stopping in the hallway to take off his jacket and belt before strutting into the living room. He looked at Carver and Peter and grinned.
“Hey, guys, what are you two talking about so seriously?” He dropped down on the couch next to Peter, wrapping an arm around his shoulder before leaning over his head and giving Carver a quick kiss.
“Dinner. I messed up, and we’re going to have to order something,” Peter said. He didn’t want to talk to Tex about moving on. He knew perfectly well that Tex would have no problems in that area.
“In that case, I vote pizza,” Tex said, just as unbothered as Carver had been. He leaned back, putting his boots up on the coffee table. Peter stared at them, knowing that Tex was keeping the boots on and showing them off on purpose.
Peter didn’t really think that the boots themselves were sexy—though they did a good job emphasizing what a big alpha Tex was—but he loved how hot and bothered Tex got when he paid attention to them.
Being able to drive his alpha crazy just by bending down and kissing his foot made Peter feel strangely powerful, even though when he was on his knees and tasting leather, he felt anything but.
