The Terms of an Alpha ✔️

t h i r t y - t w o (m)

Saint felt even more shitty when he saw Ender curled up on the couch with not even a pillow or a blanket. Shit, he should've thought to get him that. Of course, he felt a little more preoccupied. He got a spare pillow and throw blanket from the closet and tried to softly move Ender's body to not wake him. Thankfully, Ender didn't wake up after Saint "tucked him in."

Saint walked to the porch and sat outside on the stairs. He wondered what it would be like to smoke. He never would actually consider it—knowing how terrible it was for one's body—but many times he saw his dad sitting at the same spot he was at with a cigarette in his mouth. It always seemed to relax his dad. And with that thought he pulled out his phone. At this point, it was almost muscle memory dialing the same number. He hadn't done this in awhile, but it was something he wanted to do now. He heard his dad's familiar voicemail that he heard countless times before. He probably had left his dad more than two hundred voicemails since his passing.

"Hey dad. It's me," he began. "I'm just calling to tell you that I'm gay." Saint almost laughed at the words. "I know what you're thinking. Yup, I'm a gay boy, or whatever the fuck you wanna call me. You always were so... bold... But I hope you know I'm happy, okay? Like, I feel like I can fucking breathe for once. Ender makes it easy. He's my boyfriend. I love him. You would like him." Saint knew his dad would first be angry that his son was gay, then he would be confused, but then he would accept him. Saint knew it in his heart. Saint wished his dad could meet Ender. He wished his dad could see him graduate high school and college. Sometimes, he just really wished his dad was here. "Talk soon. I love you."

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything." Saint jumped at Ender's voice.

"Fuck, E. You can't creep up on me like that."

"Who are you talking to?" Shit, Ender must have been confused. Who would he be telling he loves over the phone at this hour?

"Come sit," Saint says, making room for Ender. Reluctantly, Ender sat down next to him.

"Well, who was it? Look Saint. I'm not trying to jump to any conclusions, but—"

"Just listen," Saint ordered. Ender clicked his tongue, but agreed.

Saint played the only voicemail message he had saved from his dad.

"Hey, bud, it's your dad. I'm just checking in. Your mom says you've been doing well. I'm proud of you, okay? Watch over your younger brother for me. Take it easy. I love you guys. I'm gonna do better for you all. We'll talk soon. " Saint explained the message before Ender could talk. "He went on a bender, and my mom wouldn't let him come home before he got clean. After my dad passed, I was mad at him for leaving, which wasn't fair, but yeah... I deleted all his messages to me, but I kept this one. I'm glad I did. And what you just heard, well, sometimes it's nice to call his number. I hear his voicemail, and it seems like he's just a phone call away, you know?"

"Shit, Saint..." Ender leaned on his shoulder and intertwined their arms. "I'm such an asshole."

"You didn't know," Saint countered. "I wanted to come out to him since I never got the chance to."

"That's really sweet." Saint shook his head.

"I think he would've been so mad."

"Oh."

"Is it bad I want that though?"

"You do?" Ender asked.

"Not like that— I don't know how to explain it. It's like my teammates were overall chill about everything, I guess. It kind of felt like no one wanted to speak their mind though to protect my feelings, which is good, but my mom, shit Ender... Like what the fuck was that?" Ender nuzzled his head into his neck and brought his hands to his lips to kiss his fingers.