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For Bradley, it was a foregone conclusion that he would be an omega.
He was the son of two betas, and a Maverick—the alpha figure in his life.
When he had been little, he hadn’t known what it meant to be an omega, not yet. But he knew what it meant to be Maverick’s, a special feeling of belonging that he never felt anywhere else. The Bradshaw house was Maverick’s permanent residence when he was home on leave, and his visits were as vital to Bradley as his heartbeat, the rhythm of his young life.
He’d been sitting on the big examination table in his pediatrician’s office once when the doctor had asked his mom if she wanted to know what designation he would be, if she wanted the bloodwork done. He hadn’t known what it meant, then, but he’d known what needles were, what bloodwork meant, and fear had rattled around in his belly. He remembered wanting Maverick as soon as they’d put the suggestion of needles into the room. But his mom had said no, taken him out for ice cream instead, and then let him call Maverick when he got home.
Maverick hadn’t answered, usually couldn’t, but that was how life went.
Something scary happened, or exciting, or new, and it was Maverick he wanted— Maverick that he wanted to tell. Maverick that he wanted for everything, and the nature of his wanting grew up along with him.
Bradley had been nine when he found out what an alpha was, what Maverick was.
He had been waiting all month for Maverick to come home. They were supposed to go to the movies together, see a movie that his mom never would have let him get away with. Guy stuff, Maverick had promised him. But when he stepped off of the school bus, Maverick was sitting on the steps of his porch with a girl that he’d never seen before.
His feet had felt like lead walking over to them, and he didn’t know why.
Maverick had his sunglasses tucked into the collar of his white cotton tee, and he was sweating, his shirt transparent and heavy with moisture. His hair was slick and black with sweat, too, and it made Bradley’s stomach hurt to see him looking wrong, different. Maverick stood when he got closer, and he looked so strong and handsome to Bradley, like he always did, but he looked sick too, his face was red and his smile too tight.
Bradley clutched his bookbag straps tight and made to jog the rest of the way to Maverick for a hug, but Maverick could read his intentions and held a hand up, stopping him in his place. The girl next to him moved closer, put her delicate hand on Maverick’s arm and tilted her body so that she was between him and Bradley. It made his stomachache worse, made his belly tie up into knots.
“Hey, kid,” Maverick smiled, the smile that softened his eyes and showed all of his white teeth; the smile just for him.
“Hey,” Bradley said, frozen and hesitant where he stood. But he was no match for that look, and his own smile crawled across his face unbidden to beam back at Maverick. Something raw and thick stretched out in his chest, spread warmth down his belly and into his legs. He would normally be in Maverick’s arms by now, picked up in a big hug, and it hurt to be refused.
“Bradley, this is my friend Jessie. Jessie, this is my friend Bradley,” Maverick said, inclining his head to both of them, winking at Bradley quick and warm when he introduced him. As his friend, and it cracked Bradley’s smile open that much more. Not Goose’s son, or his packmate; his friend, somebody important, and he wanted that hug even more now.
“Nice to meet you, Brad,” Jessie said, and ruined it. He darted his eyes to her and swallowed around a hot urge to show her his teeth, and it startled him; he’d never felt that before in his life.
Jessie gave him a long look as the silence stretched between them, and he felt seen, like she could tell just what he was thinking. She kept a smile on her face but rubbed up and down Maverick’s arm just a little, and Maverick didn’t react, like it was normal for her to be in his space all of the time.
“It’s nice to meet you too, m’am,” Bradley answered, because Maverick was watching him expectantly and he was still the product of Maverick and Carole, trained to be polite to a fault.
Maverick gave the girl a private look and she smiled at him, cut her eyes to Bradley, and then pressed a kiss to the side of Maverick’s mouth. Her touch didn’t linger but Bradley’s throat went tight and dry. He felt as sick as Maverick looked, suddenly.
“I’ll be in the car,” she said, and when she turned and her back was facing Maverick, she gave Bradley a long look up and down. He gave in to the urge to show her his teeth then, just a little, and she laughed, flashed him a toothy smirk back and kept walking. He felt even worse.
Maverick had a steady gaze trained on him, and he looked solemn now.
“You’ve gotta go,” Bradley said before Maverick could, heart at his feet.
Maverick nodded and looked pained, working his lips against his teeth like he was chewing on what to say. “I’ve gotta go,” he agreed, finally, running a hand through his hair. His hand came back wet with sweat, and he wiped it off on his jeans. “I’m a little under the weather, buddy. I can’t make it to the movies. I’m going to be out of commission for a few days.”
“A few days?” Bradley said immediately. A few days was basically all they ever got. He’d been waiting weeks, and now Maverick wasn’t going to be with him at all? This was it? And he felt like throwing his bookbag to the ground and going down after it, just laying right there on his belly like when he was a kid. “With that girl?” he couldn’t help but ask, and he had to know, and there was a whine in his voice that his mom always said he needed to swallow.
Bradley twisted his hands on the straps of his bookbag and tried not to cry right there.
Maverick must have read it on his face because he cleared his throat and looked up and away for a second, at the heavens real quick like he did sometimes, before he took a step forward and pulled Bradley into his arms.
He didn’t answer Bradley about the girl, but it was worth it.
Maverick pulled him in tight and he jumped up into the embrace, wrapped his legs around Maverick’s solid hips like the man still let him sometimes. He let him today, too, and Maverick held him tight in his embrace while Bradley clung to him.
Maverick was soaked, but Bradley pressed his face right into his neck anyway, right into that place that was so undeniably Maverick. The scent was so intense today, and he probably could have smelled Maverick from the road if he’d scented for it, it was powerful, like when he spilled his mom’s bottle of perfume last year.
Bradley crushed his nose deeper into Maverick’s neck and took in big greedy breaths, but Maverick only let him get away with it for a second before he was sliding him back down to the ground, easing his legs apart and off of his hips. Bradley took a woozy step back, high on Maverick.
His whole front was damp from their close press, and he felt like his legs might fold right out from under himself. Only Maverick’s hand coming out to hold him steady at his shoulder kept him upright, and he blinked up at Maverick in a daze.
“I’ll try to come back and catch that movie before I have to ship out, okay?” Maverick said, apologetic and earnest.
Bradley could only nod, choked up and wrongfooted now, tears about to spill out of his eyes. Maverick gave him a measured look before he leaned down and pressed a kiss right to his temple, let Bradley tuck his head back into his shoulder for just a second.
Maverick was treating him so gently that it hurt, like he could read all of the secrets inside of Bradley’s heart.
“I love you, Bradley,” Maverick said, and it hit Bradley right in his heart, and the tears started to fall.
“I love you too, Mav,” he answered back, and he was so embarrassed because his voice trembled and he choked on Maverick’s name. Bradley felt desperate for him not to leave, ached for it in his belly, but Maverick was already straightening back up and walking away.
He didn’t move a muscle until he heard the sounds of Maverick getting in the car and driving away, and then he was running into the house and straight to his bedroom. Their house was modest, just two bedrooms, but there were two beds in Bradley’s room for when Maverick was there. It was Maverick’s bed that he ran to, tears running hot down his face, and he climbed under the covers and stayed there until his mom came home from work.
She gave him the talk when she found him like that, still in tears. Maverick had already called her at work.
That day, his mom taught him alpha, and that Maverick was one. She taught him omega, too, that the girl with Maverick had been one, an omega that he was seeing. That sometimes that was who alphas needed, and that no one else could help. Not his mom, not him.
She did tell him that she and his dad had both been betas, and that most people were. That to be someone like Maverick, or that girl, was rare. He didn’t ask her what he was, what he was going to be. He remembered being at the doctor’s office and his mom deciding not to find out, though he hadn’t known then what it all meant. But he didn’t need to ask because he knew already. He was going to be an omega, and then he would be the person that Maverick needed most, the person that could help him with anything.
She didn’t call it a rut, the thing that Maverick needed help with, but he would find out eventually.
Maverick never did make it back to see that movie.
The next time he saw Maverick, he was ready. He’d been learning about alphas and omegas for months, looking for them when he was out at the grocery store with his mom, at his baseball games. He thought he had gotten pretty good at figuring them out, had the blueprint down.
The omegas were usually little, and sweet. The ones that he thought he saw out in the world reminded him of his teachers from when he was really young, before he was old enough to get grades and homework. Sweet and soft-spoken, something undefinably welcoming about them. When he saw one, an omega out with what he thought were alphas, like Maverick, they would always stay pressed close and touch each other a lot.
He’d always knew he wanted to be a pilot when he grew up so that he could be just like Maverick, but now he knew what else he wanted to be, so that he could be with Maverick, too.
Maverick had always been tactile, always touched him and his mom a lot when he came to visit, and now Bradley went out of his way to touch him back. He stayed as close as Maverick let him, ducking under his arm and wiggling close to the alpha whenever he got the chance.
Sometimes Maverick would give him a long look when he did it, a grownup look that he didn’t know how to read. But Maverick kept letting him, didn’t ever stop him when he tried, and always opened his arms when Bradley asked to be held close.
It didn’t go unnoticed by other people, either.
Bradley was thirteen and they were at a barbeque the first time he heard it. His mom wasn’t there with them, too busy with work, but it was being hosted by an old Navy friend of Maverick’s and Bradley had been invited along too. It was no secret that where Maverick went, he was following. Bradley wasted no time sticking to Maverick like glue from the second that they dismounted from Maverick’s bike, and he was already a little touch-drunk from holding Maverick tight all the way there.
There were mostly alphas in the crowd, but Bradley saw omegas, too. They were tucked in close to their mates, seeking shelter from the press of people, and he pulled Maverick by the hand until he turned to face him. Maverick knew what he was asking without a word, and he was indulgent today, let Bradley slide right under his arm and let him stay there, too.
A dopey smile took over Bradley’s face because he was proud to be claimed, proud for Maverick to show everyone who he belonged to.
A tall alpha nudged Maverick by the shoulder when they got close to the grill, teasingly said, “Hey Mav, is that your little omega you brought with you?”
And Bradley preened, gave the alpha a big smile back, looked him right in the eyes. Thought yes, that was exactly who he was. He knew it in his bones.
But Maverick’s smile back was distant, tight. “Slider,” he said, carefully, “This is Bradley. Goose’s son.”
That meant something to Slider, and they didn't talk omega again. It was the first time that someone made that suggestion, but not the last. Bradley hung on to the idea every time, thinking yes yes yes, thinking of the future that he knew would be.
More people said it to them jokingly after that, to Maverick, but it wasn’t a joke, not really. Omegas needed alphas after their first heat, or they had to be put on suppressants and blockers, strong ones. It wasn’t recommended for immature omegas who were still growing, not even at their adult size yet. The strong chemicals could stunt growth and maturity. Heat Centers were a thing, but they were sterile and impersonal, and it was a progressive movement that hadn’t caught on with a lot of families.
Betrothals were common, and part of the reason to find out a child’s designation was to prepare and find a match. Maverick was older than him, but he was Maverick, and he was already pack. He would be the obvious choice when it was time to make one.
Bradley waited and hoped.
Waited and hoped, even after Maverick came home from a long deployment and Bradley had outgrown him by a couple of inches. When he ran out to greet his alpha and their eyes didn’t meet anymore, he had to look down at Maverick for the first time in his life, it was a punch to his gut. He didn’t cry because Maverick was watching, and his mom was too, but he could have. When Maverick didn’t tuck him under his arm and let him press in close, he could have cried. When Maverick ruffled his hair and asked if he had any cute girls on his mind at school because he was so big and tall, all the girls must be crazy about him, he could really cry then. Maverick called him big guy while Bradley’s heart was breaking.
It almost felt like maybe Maverick was saying it to make a point, drawing a line in the sand. All the girls must want you because I sure don’t, nothing small and sweet about you now.
No one would ask if he was Maverick’s omega anymore.
He still was though, he knew it. Bradley spent that first night that Maverick was back staring in the mirror. His face was still soft, and the softness followed down his body, plumpness on his chest, belly, and his butt. He wasn’t curvy like how a mature omega would be, but he wasn’t firm, either. His body was just waiting, he told himself, waiting for his presentation to fill out and make him someone that Maverick would let tuck in tight to his body again like he was home.
Something felt jittery inside of himself that night. Maverick was already in bed by the time he finished in the bathroom, and only his lonely desk lamp was still lit when he got back to their room. It was dim, but he could see the shape of Maverick under the covers. He felt anxious, needed comforting—needed Maverick, and even if he was big now, he couldn’t stop himself from asking for it.
Bradley was down to just his shirt and his boxers, and it wasn’t sexy, wasn’t lingerie, but he still felt vulnerable padding over to where Maverick was tucked in for the night.
After sharing a room for Maverick his whole life, he knew how to wake Maverick up, knew how to rouse the alpha without setting him off. Maverick had collected a lot of nightmares over the years, and it was Bradley’s job to take care of him, make him feel better and not wake him up swinging and feeling sick.
“Maverick,” he called carefully, tucking in down by the foot of the bed. Maverick had one bare leg thrown out from under the covers, and in the near-darkness Bradley could just barely make out the dark body hair on his leg. Maverick didn’t stir, and Bradley reached out and took his ankle, shook it only just barely. He could feel when Maverick’s body woke up under his hand, and the alpha sat up in bed, propped himself up on his elbows just enough that he could get a good look at whoever had woken him.
The sheets spilled down Maverick’s body when he moved, and Bradley could see his naked chest and the curl of his belly as he sat up, the trail of hair that turned thick at the low waistband of his briefs.
“Bradley?” Maverick asked, his voice low and sleepy. They blinked at each other in the dark while Bradley tried to work up his courage, tried to make his words come up. He didn’t answer right away and took a deep breath through his nose instead, and he could smell Maverick rich and hot in the air.
“You smell,” Bradley started to say, was going to finish his thought with incredible, or perfect, but the words got caught in his throat, and Maverick chuckled and cut him off.
“Sorry, kid,” he said ruefully, supported his weight on one elbow while he brought a hand up to run through his hair. Bradley wanted to be that hand, wanted permission to pet and to touch. “I just got off of my—my rut,” he said, and watched Bradley’s face intently after he said it. “Your mom ever tell you what that is?”
Bradley nodded. He still hadn’t taken his hand off of Maverick’s leg, didn’t want to. Wanted to keep running it up and feel Maverick’s skin underneath, his muscle, feel that wiry hair and follow its conclusion all the way up Maverick’s thigh and to his dick.
“Good,” Maverick said after a beat, kept looking at him expectantly. Didn’t push Bradley and ask why he’d woken him up, just waited for Bradley to work up the courage to say it. He was always generous with Bradley like that, always patient, and it made his heart swell up big in his chest. “You’re about that age,” he continued, and trailed off for a beat before he picked his thought back up. “Probably going to have to know all about it soon, one way or another.”
Bradley squeezed his leg again, and Maverick looked up at him, waiting.
“Can I sleep with you?” Bradley said, finally, voicing what they both already knew he wanted to ask. He knew on some level that he had been waiting for Maverick to just invite him, but he wasn’t strong enough to take the gentle rebuff for what it was, didn’t have enough pride not to beg.
Maverick looked at him steadily, and his face didn’t give anything away.
“You’re a little too big these days, kid,” he said finally, and Bradley didn’t know if Maverick knew what a blow that was, didn’t know if Maverick was trying to hit him.
“Please, Mav,” Bradley pressed, moved his hand up Maverick’s leg until he was squeezing the meat of his calf. Maverick didn’t move his leg away or look down at his hand, didn’t take that away from him too. “I can be small,” he added, a promise and offering on so many levels. He could be small, he could be good, he could be the one, Maverick just had to wait and see, wait for him to present. It was coming, he knew it. And then he wouldn’t have to ask to get in, he'd already be invited because it would be their bed, and Maverick would be his.
Maverick just looked at up at him, and Bradley felt like he was being read through, down to the secrets of his heart. But the alpha shifted towards the edge of the bed and pulled the covers open, made room in the space between his body and the wall. His bed was pressed into the corner of the room, one side up against the wall, and it made something tighten up happy and pleased inside of Bradley to see space being made for him. Not closest to the door, where danger might come, but in that little protected corner, kept safe by Maverick’s own body. It was an alpha’s instinct to want to box in their pup like that, or their omega.
In some ways, Bradley felt like both.
“Show me how small you can be,” Maverick smiled at him, and he didn’t waste a second.
He clambered over Maverick with his big limbs, feeling his belly tighten when he had the alpha’s hard body under him for a second, but then he was in the little space that Maverick had made and he kept his promise. He made himself little, brought his limbs up close and tight, didn’t steal any room from the alpha who let him into his bed.
Maverick snorted and ran a hand through Bradley’s hair and down his neck, and he grabbed him like that, strong hand around his pressure points and wrapped across to where his mating gland would swell up once he presented. The gland was small now and imperceptible to the touch, but it still felt electric when Maverick touched him there. The alpha pulled him close by his scruff and Bradley’s body followed, uncurling from where he’d been hugging the wall. Maverick kept pulling until he was tucked into Maverick’s body instead.
Bradley took the invitation and cuddled in greedily, nestled down into the protective wrap of Maverick’s arm, face pressed into his chest. He felt brave and threw an arm across Maverick’s belly, fingers curled against Maverick’s warm side. When Maverick didn’t flinch or move away, he felt really brave and brought his leg up around Maverick’s hip, let the weight of his limb settle down gently until their legs were tangled together, thigh to thigh, and his heart was so full and so swollen that he could burst.
Maverick didn’t move away or admonish him, just squeezed his neck and brought his hand back up to run through Bradley’s curls. The alpha tilted his head down and pressed a kiss into Bradley’s temple.
It felt like an apology, though Maverick couldn’t know the offense he’d inflicted when he had arrived earlier, when he’d told Bradley how big and not omegan he’d become. There was no way that he knew. But it felt like an apology nonetheless.
Tucked into Maverick’s embrace, in his bed that smelled rich with alpha and comfort and safety, it felt like Maverick’s atonement.
“You’re still small enough, huh,” Maverick said, and it made Bradley smile into his chest, warm. He could be, for Maverick. For Maverick he’d be anything, and someday everything, too. “Go to sleep, Bradley.”
“Go to sleep, Maverick,” he returned, and felt the vibration of Maverick’s laughter under his face.
Bradley felt so good, so perfect and wanted in the warmth of his alpha’s embrace.
He held on to that feeling as he fell into sleep, despite the pounding of his heart. He held onto it through the night, even as that warmth turned to heat and a tight stretching in his limbs, in his belly, in his cock.
Until the stretch turned to rips, what felt like tears in his body that reached all the way down into his dream. He woke up to pain in his body, no Maverick next to him, and a fat knot at the base of his dick.