Yoga

Zack descended the staircase with his hair still damp, the towel draped casually across his shoulders. His black t-shirt clung to his skin where he hadn't dried off properly. The army green shorts hung loose on his hips, secured by a black belt, and his favorite flannel shirt swayed with each step, tied around his waist. His worn Converse shoes squeaked against the wooden steps.

He moved without hurry, feeling content, somehow certain today would bring good things. As he reached the middle of the stairs, an unusual scene caught his eye: the entire Alpha pack stood pressed together at the window, completely mesmerized by something outside.

Zack paused on the stairs, a grin tugging at his lips. His pack mates huddled at the window like excited pups, shoulders bumping as they jostled for a better view. Hugo had his nose practically pressed against the glass while Gavin and Blue craned their necks, completely absorbed in whatever spectacle lay beyond.

"What's got you all acting so weird?" Zack asked.

No answer.

Zack detoured to the kitchen, the rich aroma of fresh coffee pulled him toward the counter where Pete had left the pot brewing. He poured the dark liquid into a chipped blue mug, watching steam curl up in lazy spirals. His stomach growled at the sight of an open box of doughnuts - probably Benny's doing, since the pregnant Omega constantly craved sweets. He snagged a chocolate-glazed one, taking a generous bite that left a smear of sugar on his lips. The combination of bitter coffee and sweet doughnut hit just right, and he closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the simple pleasure.

He wandered closer to the huddled Alphas, aiming for nonchalance as he eased in behind the group. "What's going on?" he questioned them, speaking through his half-chewed breakfast.

The Alphas didn’t even blink. Zack’s greeting was lost on them, their eyes locked on something outside as if hypnotized.

Frowning, Zack got on his toes, craning his neck to see what could possibly hold such an intense grip on their attention. Then he caught sight of the scene beyond the glass—and almost inhaled his doughnut.

Zack coughed, nearly choking as the doughnut crumbs hit the back of his throat. Hot coffee sloshed up from his cup, burning his fingers and spilling to the floor as he tried to recover his breath, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away from the backyard—or Brandon.

Through the window, Zack's mouth went dry at the sight of Brandon bending backwards into a perfect arch, his spine curving like liquid grace. The borrowed shirt rode up, exposing most of his stomach just under his chest that made Zack's fingers twitch against his coffee mug. Brandon's body moved with an impossible fluidity that spoke of years of training.

Benny led the small yoga group through poses, but Brandon took each basic position and transformed it into something extraordinary. His legs extended into splits that defied anatomy, toes pointed with dancer's precision. When he transitioned into a handstand, his muscles rippled with controlled power, making the simple pose look like art.

A bead of sweat traced down Brandon's neck, disappearing into the shirt. Zack's teeth ached with the urge to follow that path. He forced himself to take another sip of coffee, but nearly missed his mouth as Brandon folded himself in half, palms flat on the wooden deck while his back formed a perfect right angle.

"Sweet mercy," Blue whispered, voicing what they were all thinking.

Brandon shifted into another pose, one leg extended high above his head while balancing on the other. His body created lines that belonged in a museum, not on their back porch at seven in the morning. Each movement flowed into the next with a dancer's grace that made Zack's chest tight with want.

The coffee in Zack's hand had gone cold, forgotten as he watched Brandon demonstrate flexibility that bordered on supernatural. When Brandon dropped into a full split, legs extended in opposite directions while his torso remained perfectly upright, Zack heard someone whimper. It might have been him.

His heart hammered in his chest, a bass drum echoing the chaotic rhythm of his thoughts. It was all he could do to stand there, clutching his cold coffee as the Omega's scent teased his senses, the intoxicating mix of Brandon's natural allure and the unmistakable undercurrent of his arousal.

Benny, his belly round and full beneath his loose tank top, moved with a surprising agility. He laughed as he wobbled slightly in a tree pose, Alex reaching out to steady him with a gentle hand. The easy intimacy between them, the way they supported each other without a word, sparked a flicker of something warm in Zack’s chest. He wondered what it would be like to have that kind of unspoken connection with someone.

Alex, despite his usual assertive nature, seemed almost serene as he flowed through the poses. His movements were fluid and controlled, his lean muscles rippling beneath his skin. Zack’s eyes were drawn to the way the sunlight caught the golden strands of his hair, turning them into a halo around his head. He had to admit, Alex was beautiful.

A low growl rumbled beside him. He glanced sideways to see Spencer, his eyes fixed on Benny with an almost predatory intensity. Gavin and Blue stood frozen, their expressions a mixture of awe and something else Zack couldn't quite decipher. Even Pete, the usually stoic leader of their pack, seemed captivated by the display before them.

Zack's muscles tensed as he noticed Blue's lingering gaze on Brandon. A low growl built in his chest, his fingers tightening around the coffee mug until his knuckles went white. His inner Alpha surged forward, demanding he march outside and shield Brandon from their hungry stares.

A low, reverent murmur Gavin broke the silence beside him. “Wow…”

Lydia nodded, eyes wide. “So… flexible.”

Just then, the back door flew open, and Spencer stormed out, clutching a blanket with a mixture of horror and determination. His cheeks were flushed, and he stomped toward Benny with a look that was both exasperated and panicked.

“Benny!” Spencer’s voice cracked with possessiveness. He practically threw the blanket at Benny, his face a mask of protectiveness. “Cover yourself.”

Benny, still in Downward Dog, glanced back at Spencer over his shoulder, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. He arched his back further, pushing his belly towards the sky as if deliberately defying Spencer's order. “But honey,” he purred, his voice laced with amusement, “I’m glowing.”

Spencer sputtered, his face turning an even deeper shade of red. He looked around wildly, as if just realizing the entire pack had come out on the back porch watching. His gaze landed on Zack, a mixture of pleading and frustration in his eyes. Help me out here, man, his expression seemed to beg.

Zack choked back a laugh. He couldn’t help but find the whole situation hilarious. Spencer, the usually unflappable Alpha, was completely undone by his pregnant Omega's blatant disregard for his possessiveness. It was a side of Spencer he rarely saw, and it was strangely endearing.

“He’s right, you know,” Alex chimed in, his voice laced with amusement. He moved closer to Benny, adjusting his own pose with a theatrical flourish. “You are glowing, Benny. Like a pregnant goddess.”

Benny giggled, clearly enjoying the attention. He straightened up, placing his hands on his hips and striking a pose. “I know, right?”

Spencer groaned, burying his face in his hands. He mumbled something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, “I can’t take this anymore.”

Gavin chuckled, clapping Spencer on the back. “Just give up, man. You can’t control a pregnant Omega.”

Blue nodded in agreement. “Especially not one as stubborn as Benny.”

Pete, who had remained silent throughout the exchange, cleared his throat. “Alright, enough,” he said, his voice firm but laced with a hint of amusement. “Let’s go inside and have some breakfast before Benny decides to give us an impromptu anatomy lesson. Besides we've got work to do today.”

Benny threw his head back and laughed, a sound that was both infectious and full of life. He grabbed the discarded blanket, wrapping it around himself with a playful wink at Spencer. "Spoilsport," he teased, then turned and headed towards the house, the other Omegas following close behind.

Spencer shot Zack a look of utter defeat before trailing after Benny, shaking his head and muttering under his breath.

Once in the kitchen Zack watched Brandon head towards Pete, a flicker of concern in his hazel-green eyes. Brandon hesitated near Pete, fidgeting with the hem of his borrowed t-shirt. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again, his gaze darting nervously around the room as if searching for the right words. Finally, he spoke, his voice soft but clear.

“Pete?” he asked, "Uh.. Alpha Pete?" his voice laced with a hesitant tremor. “Is…is Mike alright?”

Pete, who was busy pouring himself a cup of coffee, turned to face Brandon, a gentle smile softening his rugged features. “He’s fine, Brandon,” he reassured him, his voice calm and steady. “He's healing from the bullet graze, he's got a fever, but nothing too serious. He’s resting upstairs.”

Brandon’s shoulders relaxed visibly, relief washing over his face. “Oh, good,” he breathed, a small smile gracing his lips. “I was worried.”

“You can go check on him if you want—second door on the left.,” Pete added, handing Brandon a plate and gesturing to the table of food. “Eat something. You look like you could use it.”

Brandon accepted the plate with a grateful nod, his cheeks flushing slightly. He picked up a slice of cantaloupe, nibbling at it delicately. Zack watched him, a warmth spreading through his chest. He admired Brandon’s gentle nature, his concern for others, even after everything he’d been through.

“Thank you,” Brandon murmured, his eyes meeting Pete’s. “For everything.”

Pete chuckled, ruffling Brandon’s hair affectionately. “You’re welcome,” he said, his voice warm with paternal affection. “We take care of our own and I have a feeling we'll be seeing more of you.”

Brandon nibbled more at the cantaloupe, a small smile playing on his lips. Cute. He sauntered over, trying for a casual air, though his heart thumped a nervous rhythm against his ribs. “Cantaloupe your favorite?” he asked, reaching for a slice of bacon.

Brandon flinched, the smile vanishing. He set the fruit down, his gaze fixed on the plate. “I don’t…do favorites.” His voice was quiet, barely a whisper.

Zack frowned, confused. “What do you mean you don’t do favorites? Everyone has favorites.” He took a bite of the bacon, with a satisfying crunch. He wanted to reach out, brush a stray crumb from Brandon’s cheek, but held back. He was still learning the delicate dance of their budding connection, the push and pull of Brandon’s apprehension and his own yearning.

Brandon’s shoulders tensed, his jaw clenching tight. He picked up a grape, rolling it between his fingers as if contemplating its worth. “I Just…don’t,” he repeated, his voice strained. He avoided Zack’s gaze, focusing intently on the fruit.

Zack watched as Brandon's expression shifted, becoming more guarded. The Omega picked up another grape, his movements careful and measured.

"I like fruit," Brandon offered quietly. "And eggs. Toast is good too." He popped the grape in his mouth, then added with a slight edge to his voice, "But I don't have favorites. I just... can't."

Zack felt a prickle of annoyance. He’d wanted to make a gesture, something small and caring, like an Alpha should. Feed his Omega. Show him he was valued. He hadn’t meant to upset him. “Okay, okay,” he said, holding up his hands in a gesture of peace. “No favorites. Got it.” He shifted his weight, unsure what to do next. The easy morning had taken a sudden, awkward turn.

He watched Brandon pop another grape into his mouth, his teeth breaking the delicate skin. Zack swallowed the rest of his bacon, the savory fat now coating his tongue unpleasantly. “So,” he started, searching for a safer topic, “Mike…he’s okay?” He gestured vaguely towards the stairs.

Brandon nodded, a flicker of something like relief in his eyes. “Pete said he’s just resting.” He picked up another grape, his movements less tense now.

Zack leaned against the counter, trying for a relaxed posture. “Good. Good.” He wanted to ask Brandon about the Regent Omega Academy, about his escape, about everything. But he held back, sensing the fragile peace between them. He’d push too hard, too soon, and shatter it completely.

Brandon ate a few more grapes, then set the plate back on the table. He looked up at Zack, his hazel-green eyes meeting his with an intensity that sent a shiver down his spine. “I…I should go check on him,” Brandon murmured, putting the plate near the sink.

Zack nodded, pushing himself off the counter. “Yeah, alright.” He watched Brandon walk towards the stairs, his slender frame disappearing up the staircase. He shoved his hands in his pockets, the silence in the kitchen suddenly heavy. He’d messed up somehow, he knew it. He just didn’t know how to fix it.