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Kinn stared at the full moon, studying its shape, wondering what it must be like to be that determinedly, unmistakably round . The sloshing of water against the side of the boat only sharpened his imagination of wet, primordial things until the thump of the boat against the lake deck’s pylon pulled him back into the present.
His preoccupation with the shape of the moon did not completely disappear.
Porsche leapt out of the small boat and onto the dock, holding fast to the speedboat’s rope while Kinn maneuvered the vessel and cut the engines. Bodyguards in similar boats made to flank them but he waved them away. Tapping his earpiece, he said, “Make yourself invisible,” which they did, melting into the night and the reeds that grew like sentinels along the lake’s shoreline.
Porsche reached the mooring on the dock and pulled the boat in, tying the rope off before rounding the end of the dock, and wading into the warm lake waters. His cargo shorts came up to his knees but the water barely nipped at the hem as he offered Kinn his hand and helped him into the shallows. Without warning, Porsche stole a kiss, catching Kinn by surprise, before he winked and turned back to the boat, leaving Kinn to sway in a haze of warm water and desire that curled over his skin.
“They chose the best spot,” Porsche announced, pulling out the cooler and backpack from inside the boat. “We’ll be able to see everything from here.”
Kinn scanned the shoreline of the small lake, searching for signs of his cousin and his mate. He caught sight of Pete working over a small bonfire while Vegas fed wood into the growing flames.
“There they are!” Porsche shouted, rushing back to Kinn to take his backpack, but Kinn waved him off.
“I got this,” he said. He scanned the uneven ground, taking careful steps to avoid stumbling on the slick rocks.
“Did you lose your water legs or something?” Porsche teased.
Kinn pulled a face, carefully setting one foot in front of the other, “Don't be a brat,” he answered. Porsche merely laughed that husky belly-laugh Kinn loved to hear.
Vegas caught up with them, giving them both a fist bump before taking the bag Porsche had offered to carry just a few minutes before, this time with no resistance. He leaned close to Kinn as Porsche made his way towards Pete, who threw his arms around him as if he hadn’t seen him just that morning.
“Hey,” Vegas said, slinging the pack over his shoulder. He wore similar cargo shorts as Porsche, no doubt costlier, and a bright red pullover with a grinning Santa on the front. They’d all chosen the ugliest Christmas sweaters they could find to wear tonight - Vegas’s Santa grinning maniacally, Porsche’s dancing elf, Kinn’s red-nosed Rudolph and Pete’s blinking Gingerbread Man.
“So, have you told him yet?” Vegas whispered, straight black hair lifting in the breeze.
“Shhhh…I haven’t figured out a way to do it.” Kinn answered in a low voice. “I thought tonight would be a good time.”
Vegas took a glance around him. at the lake water that undulated, dark and glittering, under the sky. The lights of the quaint, lake-side town on the opposite shore where they'd chosen to spend the last days of the year were reflected in its dark, placid currents. Bodyguards surrounded them, invisible yet vigilant, warriors hidden in shadow.
“You got the right ambiance. He’ll never forget tonight. Not for as long as he lives.” Vegas smiled, clearly in the grip of his own memories of the first time his omega had shared his miraculous news with him. Miraculous because the family man of today had been no better than an unhinged fugitive a few years earlier.
Vegas turned away to move towards Pete, as if drawn inexorably by a magnet, stronger than his will.
“Wait,” Kinn stayed Vegas with a hand on his arm. “I just wanted to thank you. This is our first time and, well, you’ve been through it already—”
“Hey,” Vegas clapped a hand on Kinn’s shoulder. “I’m glad you trusted me enough to ask.” Vegas eyes shone and yet again, there was nothing predatory or calculating in them. They were…sincere. Kinn was still getting used to this evolution in their relationship, the way it almost felt like when they were young, before the heaviness of their names weighed them down, and damaged them in ways they were still recovering from. Too bad they had to wait for both their fathers to die before they could have this. With their respective fathers’s stereotypical alpha toxicity out of the way, the Theerapanyakul men found themselves fumbling their way towards relationships that resembled the ones expected between family members.
“To be honest,” Vegas continued, “I can’t wait to see his face when he finds out.”
Kinn’s smile was small and pensive, words gnarled on his tongue, between his teeth.
Vegas seemed to understand Kinn’s taciturn silence. “Hey, if you wait until everything is perfect to do these things, they’ll never happen. You both deserve this.”
The sincerity of Vegas’s words struck at the heart of his worries, though they could not encompass all of them. His worries could not be assuaged so easily. But he appreciated the attempt. “Thank you.”
He looked past Vegas to watch Porsche, who was working with Pete over the open fire. Knowing Porsche as he did, he would be ecstatic. But it was a huge step and Kinn, as fearless as he was with the most dangerous aspects of his life, couldn't suppress his uncertainty in the face of this unknown. Vulnerabilities were lethal in his line of work and now the stakes had exploded exponentially.
“What are you two cooking up for us tonight?” Kinn asked when they reached the fire.
“Extra chocolatey chocolate s’mores,” Pete answered cheerfully. His eyes radiated contentment and Kinn knew it was due in no small part to what he and Vegas had managed to build together. The same thing he hoped to have with Porsche. Even with his anxieties for what the future might hold, he was suddenly awash in a wave of pure, incandescent feeling that threatened to overwhelm and expose him for the emotional wreck he really was. Part vulnerability, part hormones, these sudden surges of feelings occurred more frequently, serving as yet another confirmation of the physical changes he was experiencing.
“There’s some beer in the cooler.” Vegas handed a bottle to Porsche, which he quickly offered Kinn in turn. But Kinn demurred, busying himself with unpacking what remained in his backpack, Porsche's amber-eyes all the while fixed on him.
“Are you okay?” he asked, reaching out to help Kinn arrange the finger foods and fried treats that his personal chefs had prepared as their contribution to their festivities.
“Never better,” Kinn answered and he meant it. Besides a touch of nervousness at the momentousness of this night, he was happy. Frighteningly, profoundly so. But he’d caught the flash of red in Porsche’s eyes, the way his alpha's protective instinct went on high alert at the slightest hint that something might be amiss with his omega. Kinn released the sweet, soothing aroma of his pheromones in the hopes of calming Porsche.
“I'm fine. Promise.”
Porsche’s eyes fluttered closed, and he inhaled Kinn’s comfort, a rumble of pure pleasure climbing up and out of his chest.
“Better?” Kinn asked, resting a hand on Porsche’s jaw, thumb caressing the stubble that was beginning to grow there.
Porsche’s purring was his response, though when he opened his eyes, he studied Kinn for a few beats longer until Pete distracted him by eagerly perusing their offerings. Thank goodness for Pete's bottomless appetite. In addition to the fried treats, and fruit, they'd packed smoked fish and truffle spreads, which Pete loved more than anything else.
“It sure wouldn’t be New Year’s Eve without a bonfire,” Porsche insisted, recovering from his moment, and pulled out a large throw blanket, wrapping Kinn and himself in it before settling down on a large tree trunk, marshmallow speared on the end of a stick. It made Kinn feel safe, and warm. Like no one could get to him. Vegas curled up next to Pete in their own comforter as well, tucking himself into his omega’s side as he continued to stoke the flames.
“And a boat parade,” Pete added, waving at the sparks that flew off a piece of wood and landed haphazardly on the dirt.
As if on command, the procession of boats started to make its way across the lake, the gentle breeze pushing at the currents, moving them forward. In the dark night, the twinkling Christmas lights and festive lettering made each boat appear like a sparkling tree ornament. Kinn sighed at the pontoon, its bimini hanging heavy with pure, white lights as if snow had fallen on it, belying the balmy, warm temperatures, and imagined playing in snow with their child.
The voices of passengers faded in and out with the changes in music. At the prow of the ship that led the procession was a Christmas tree crowned with a bright star that doubled as a search light, sweeping a path through the darkness.
As they passed treats around, eating the snacks and melted delights that Pete roasted over the fire, Porsche pulled out a thermos of eggnog and, with exaggerated flair, unscrewed the large can.
“For the firework show,” he explained, filling everyone’s mugs. Kinn, staring at his drink, tried not to audibly gag. But the wrinkling of his features was evident to Vegas, provoking a knowing smile. He clinked glasses with Pete, who sniffed appreciatively at the beverage.
“Porsche’s special egg nog, with enough rum to wake the dead,” Pete said, to which Porsche cheerfully raised his mug.
Kinn tried to take a sip of his drink, his face twisting in distaste.
“It’s not spoiled, is it?” Porsche asked as he took Kinn’s mug, taking a long sniff. “I made sure to mix it just the way you like.”
The breath in Kinn’s chest rattled as he took both cups from Porsche and set them on the ground next to them. “I’m sure it’s the best you’ve ever made but,” he took Porsche’s hand and placed it over his flat stomach, “The baby has other ideas.”
Porsche’s face, the one that belonged to the person he adored above everyone else's, a face that defaulted to endless joy and mischief, went through a progression of emotions, from confusion to understanding to unfiltered joy with heartstopping speed.
“Is it true?” Porsche asked, his voice thick with emotion. He rested his hand gently, yet protectively, over Kinn’s belly.
“Yes, my alpha. Your child is growing in me, and I’m afraid they don’t love your eggnog as much as I do.”
Porsche’s eyes, which had begun to shimmer with unchecked tears, crinkled to slivers of joy, while his face cracked open into a watery grin. “Then we’ll find out what they do like and make sure that they never go without.” He pulled Kinn in for a hug that was at once powerful and gentle, a reminder of both his commitment to protect him, and the ready comfort of his tenderness. He pulled back, sweeping a cluster of hair that had fallen over Kinn's forehead. “You honor me, Omega. Thank you.”
Kinn laughed, held tight in the grip of his own happiness. “It’s not like I did it alone.”
The glint of wickedness had returned to Porsche’s eyes. “No, I was enthusiastically a part of this.” Porsche kissed into Kinn’s smile, messy and wet and tinged with joy. He kissed him for a long while more until the need for oxygen forced them apart. A sniffle from across the fire caught their attention. Kinn looked past Porsche to see Pete, wiping tears from his eyes and even Vegas’s grin was as wild and unhinged as the grinning Santa on his sweater.
“Okay, okay, enough of that,” Kinn said, gently pushing Porsche away, but his stubborn mate only held him tighter. Adjusting the blanket over Kinn’s shoulders he turned to glare at Vegas and Pete.
“You knew, didn’t you?” Porsche asked.
Vegas shrugged but it was Pete who spoke for them both. “It’s his first pregnancy. He had questions and I was more than happy to share my experience.”
Porsche nodded at this. “Thank you, for taking care of him.”
“You’d do the same for me,” Pete said simply.
“We would,” Kinn answered for them both, his fingers twining tightly with Porsche’s.
Meanwhile, the procession, having crossed the diameter of the lake, turned around and passed again, festive music streaming through the night air. The countdown to the New Year began with a man's voice over a loudspeaker, booming each number. Crowds were gathered on the opposite shore, but on this private strip of beach, the four of them might as well have been the only people on the lake. When the countdown reached the last number, Porsche turned to Kinn, “Happy New Year!” he boomed, giving Kinn a kiss that left him reeling. They exchanged those good wishes with Vegas and Pete. Kinn hugged his cousin as he had never dared to do, and found it was a contact that brought him peace.
Porsche raised his cup as if in toast while above him, the sky detonating into starbursts of lights, colors, and endless designs with such deafening explosions, no one could hear each other. When the explosions had died down, Kinn swept a hand along Porsche’s cheek, coming to rest on his chin. “Happy New Year, baby.”
“Baby,” Porsche repeated, as if tasting the word for the first time. He jumped up, shouting at the nearest boat. “Hey! we're having a baby!”
The passengers on the boat cheered, while the driver of the boat honked loudly. Soon, all the boats were honking in response as they communicated Porsche’s joy across radio frequencies, even if they had no idea who he was. It was a security risk, but Kinn accepted this. It was New Year's Eve, after all. A night for celebrations, for knotting up old business and unwrapping new beginnings. On a night like this, everyone had an open invitation to share each other’s joy. Vegas and Pete cheered as well, gripped, no doubt, by the echo of the memory of Pete, telling Vegas he would be a father all those years ago.
Porsche drew Kinn in for another wild, impassioned kiss before a laugh that began as a rumble in his chest exploded from his lips. He threw his head back, his gorgeous, powerful neck limned in moonlight, and howled, the whoop of joy drowning out the music, the voices, and the bright lights that drifted in from the singing boats on the water under the brightest full moon.