I settle him under the covers and climb in beside him. His body curls into mine immediately, his face pressing against my chest, his cold feet tangling with my warm ones. His breathing evens out within minutes and I think he's asleep when his voice comes through, muffled against my shirt.
"Amos?"
"Hm?"
"Thank you for catching me."
I press my mouth against the top of his head and hold him tighter. His breathing deepens as his body goes heavy with sleep. I'm lying there watching the moonlight shift across the ceiling when the door opens. Dominic stands in the doorway for a long moment, his silhouette backlit by the hallway light. Then he crosses the room and does something I have never seen him do.
He drops to both knees on the carpet beside Mattaniah's side of the bed. His hands rest on the mattress edge, his face is level with the sleeping Omega's. The hallway light catches his expression and the controlled, commanding Alpha I've loved since we were teenagers is nowhere in it. He looks terrified of what he's capable of.
"Is he okay?" His voice is barely above a whisper.
"He will be." I keep my own voice low to avoid waking Mattaniah. "I explained what happened. He understands."
"He shouldn't have to understand." Dominic's hand reaches toward Mattaniah's face and stops an inch from his cheek. He's afraid to touch him. "I should have been paying attention. I know what subspace looks like, Amos. I just..." He stops. "I wasn't watching his face. I was in my own head and I wasn't watching."
"I know."
"I hurt him."
"You scared him. The bruises will heal. What matters is what happens next."
Mattaniah stirs between us. His eyes open, focusing on Dominic kneeling beside the bed. For a moment, neither of them moves. Then Mattaniah's hand slides out from under the blanket and touches Dominic's face.
The Alpha flinches.
"You stopped when Amos told you to." Mattaniah's voice is thick with sleep but the words are clear. "You stopped."
"I should have known before he needed to tell me."
"But you did stop." Mattaniah's thumb traces Dominic's cheekbone, a mirror of the gesture Dominic uses on him. "You're here. You came back. You're kneeling next to my bed at..." He squints at the clock on the nightstand. "Six fifteen in the morning."
"I needed to see that you were okay."
"I'm okay." His thumb moves to the corner of Dominic's mouth, tracing his lower lip. Dominic's eyes close at the touch. "I'm okay, Dominic."
Dominic turns his head and presses his lips against Mattaniah's palm. When he opens his eyes they're wet. Fuck, I’ve never seen him cry. This Omega truly is breaking us apart piece by piece.
"Get in the bed, Dom." My voice comes out rough. "He needs you on his other side."
Dominic stands and rounds the bed. He climbs in behind Mattaniah and fits himself against the Omega's back, his arm draping over Mattaniah's waist, his face pressing into the curls at the back of his neck. Every movement is careful, deliberate, gentle in a way I've never seen from him.
Mattaniah's hand finds Dominic's and pulls his arm tighter around his waist. Dominic's thumb comes up and traces Mattaniah's lower lip, offered instead of imposed. Mattaniah's mouth opens and takes it in without hesitation. His eyes close and the tension drains from his body in a single exhale.
Dominic's breathing stutters against the back of Mattaniah's neck.
"He's going to be fine," I whisper.
Amos
Themorningafterthesubspace incident, Mattaniah's cheeks are a permanent shade of pink. I notice it the moment he steps off the elevator onto the executive floor. His posture is perfect and his shirt is pressed and his curls are tamed into something professional, but his face is flushed in a way that has nothing to do with temperature. He catches my eye across the floor and immediately looks away. The pink deepens to red.
Tamsin notices. She glances from Mattaniah's face to me to the elevator I just stepped out of, and I watch her file the information away with the same precision I use for financial discrepancies.
The whispers start around ten. I'm on the twelfth floor reviewing audit reports when my assistant mentions that "something happened on the executive floor this morning." She doesn't elaborate, but the way she says it tells me the gossip has already spread through at least three departments. By eleven, two separate break room conversations have stopped abruptly the second I walked in.
Mattaniah's scent has changed. Everyone can smell it. The blockers he doubled up on this morning aren't hiding the way he's been marked by two Alphas for the better part of a week, and the people who work closely enough with him to notice are noticing.
