Chapter Text
It felt like he’d been stepped on by an elephant. Every bone in his body ached, and muscles he did not know even existed in his body felt sore at the slightest movement. Consciousness seeped into his otherwise delirious state, but the pounding headache that followed almost made Gao Tu wish he hadn’t regained his senses.
He was laying down somewhere, the surface his back met feeling a lot like a bed. Not his bed, though. Where was he? He was yet to have a grasp on reality, and opening his eyes made him regret existing as the artificial light worsened the pounding beneath his skull. His entire vision was completely white momentarily, and his muscles strained, with his entire body shaking with effort as he tried to push himself to sit up. He could feel movement around him, the sound of multiple footsteps shuffling around, and the very annoying incessant beeping sound of something mechanic going off around him.
Someone shouted his name— well not shouted exactly, the tone was more desperation led, laced in concern than being told off— and a hand pressed against his back, another on his shoulder, steadying him. The too familiar iris pheromones permeated his senses, and he realised, the room, too. That’s why it felt strange. He wasn’t in his own home, but neither was this a hospital. He blinked repeatedly until the white haze cleared away from his vision, and he could finally focus his eyes on the last face he saw before passing out.
Wenlang had been waiting with his heart on his sleeves. He had picked up the unconscious man in his arms bridal style too easily for comfort, and the alpha made a mental note that his former secretary had lost significant weight. It had taken Chang Yu, Hua Yong, Chen Pinming, and even the asshole Sheng Shaoyou to convince Wenlang to let go of Gao Tu so the doctors could check up on the fainted man. The alpha had been inconsolably aggressive to anyone approaching Gao Tu, and had to be held down by four men, one being a literal Enigma.
He would’ve rushed to HeCi but knew Gao Tu wouldn’t like that at all, Gao Qing was yet to be discharged, and he would kill Wenlang for worrying the girl. And Wenlang hated the provincial hospital he’d taken the man to before. So he had had the man’s primary care physician brought over to his own place, and the moment the doctor saw him and then Gao Tu, the older man lost it.
Shen Wenlang had never been scared of anyone, but at that moment, he knew in his guts that the doctor would have torn him into pieces had Wenlang not been an S-Class alpha, or had the doctor not been tied by his profession. Wenlang was firstly yelled at for almost ten minutes, then proceeded to be bombarded with insults and questions alike, and then was obliterated with information he had scrambled to catch onto. And each bit of information had progressively deepened the waters he was swimming in, and muddied up more and more of what he thought he knew about his life.
But he pushed everything else aside, and the only question he in turn asked the doctor after he was allowed to speak was, “Will Gao Tu be alright?”
“He passed out from stress, and exposure to oppressive pheromones. I had already warned him of his complications, and yet here you are,” the doctor sighed. Wenlang couldn’t find a rebuttal, nor an argument. Guilt was eating him up in more ways than one.
Gao Tu couldn’t pull away his eyes from the alpha looking right back at him. President Shen might be a stoic CEO, but Shen Wenlang’s face was an open book, and the palpable panic, concern, and anxiety rolled off of the man in waves as he tried to keep Gao Tu steadied. But finally the alpha broke eye contact, asking one of the nurses that the omega was only now noticing was also present, to get the doctor who was waiting.
“Sh-She-Shen W-Wenlang—” the first words that came out of Gao Tu’s mouth, first thing after waking up, but he stopped mid sentence, and started coughing, throat hoarse from unuse. Wenlang shushed him, “Don’t strain yourself,” and touched a glass of water to his lips, tilting the glass so Gao Tu could drink. The cool water did little to soothe the anxiety the older felt, but it was a relief going down his parched throat, so that’s one good thing.
Gao Tu had so many questions, which was very ironic considering Wenlang was probably the one who had part of his life upturned. If he even considered Gao Tu that important. Maybe that’s too much of a stretch, though.
He was expecting Wenlang to explode at him, probably hurl insults, throw blame… at least confront him, if nothing else. But looking at the alpha fussing around him, he didn’t see the disdain, nor apprehension, nor disgust. That should have relieved him, but it only worsened his anxiety. It meant whatever else he was going to have to suffer through would be worse.
Gao Tu had been bracing himself for the look of detestation in Wenlang’s eyes from the moment the alpha would know about Gao Tu’s orientation, for years. He’d prepared himself to face the alpha’s outrage, and lose him for the rest of his life, the moment he had fallen in love with the stubborn man. Maybe he already has, and the younger is only waiting to go through the formalities. The thought sickened Gao Tu a little, no matter how much he thought he was prepared for it, and the nausea seemed to not only be mental, but physical, because he found himself gripping the alpha’s arm with one hand, his other hand pressing a fist against his mouth as he took deep breaths to ease the urge to throw up.
Maybe Wenlang didn’t know the full story yet.
Just then, the doctor, no, his doctor, walked in, god bless the man’s soul. Gao Tu knew at that moment for sure that Shen Wenlang had discovered his secret. There way no way he hadn’t. And any little hope the omega held in his heart of some sort of cover up went right out the window. Time to watch his life turn upside down once again. So much for trying to keep things together.
They went through the standard procedures, Gao Tu being mildly chewed out by his doctor (Wenlang had gone through worse, but the omega didn’t know that), then given a date to get another proper check up after he’s rested up a bit and recovered. Which brings us to another point, Gao Tu got instructed to be in strict bed rest for a minimum of seven days. In that time, he would be regularly monitored by the remote medical facilities Wenlang had arranged for. It was almost an hour of medical stuff before the doctor excused himself for the day, taking the nurses out to explain them their duties, before leaving.
That left only the two of them in the room, and the unspoken implications suffocatingly around them, the weight pressing on both the men. They stayed silent for a good while, during the entirety of which Wenlang adjust the room to accommodate more of Gao Tu’s comfort— adjusting the temperature, refilling the water, bringing in some flowers. Finally when the alpha walked in with a plate of freshly cut fruit, and set it on the table next to Gao Tu, that the omega finally broke the silence, “Mr. Shen…”
Wenlang looked at the… omega. There was no doubt in that bit anymore, that the calm, composed, most reliable and resilient, former secretary of Shen Wenlang, the person he trusted the most in the entire goddamn world, the man he’s known and been in love with since high school, was an omega. And Wenlang realised, he didn’t care. When the doctor had slip up Gao Tu’s subgender while screaming off Wenlang’s ears, the alpha didn’t feel betrayed, nor enraged… none of those emotions you’d have expected to course through him after finding out his most trusted confidant had been lying to him for over a decade. Instead, he felt like someone was twisting a knife in his heart, because he could recall in perfect memory each and every insult he’d hurled at the entire group of people who were omegas all because of his one own personal trauma, and he did all that in front of Gao Tu. Trauma justified behaviour, didn’t excuse it.
“Yes?” he responded softly, voice as gentle as he could muster. He also noted that, since waking up, Gao Tu had only uttered his name, and no other words. It kind of initiated a sort of foreign flutter in his chest, his stomach twisting just a little. It was similar to the feeling of when he used to stumble across a exam-roughened Gao Tu around their university campus, or when Gao Tu confided in him for things, trusted him. Just knowing that the man he loves deemed it safe to depend on him somehow… Wenlang cherished that.
“... I…” Gao Tu was stuttering, and he hated it. He knew he had to say something, get the conversation started somewhere, but he couldn’t find words no matter how much he searched in his brain. This goddamned headache.
“Where am I?” there, that’s a start. “Where are we? What happened?” Gao Tu could only remember bits and pieces from what had happened, because his panic had made him close off mentally. He had barely registered his surroundings, mind clouded in anxiety, and body in fight or flight mode. Too many emotions had been dumped on him, all at once, and he had shut down after failing to process them. “M-my f-father… where is he…?”
Wenlang’s expression darkened at the mention of the B-Class alpha, and Gao Tu could feel the barely contained rage brewing under the surface of the alpha’s skin. “He’s… being taken care of. Unless you say otherwise.”
Gao Tu knew exactly what Wenlang meant, he was no stranger to the violence that occurred under the picture perfect walls of high corporate chains like HS Group, ShengFang BioTech, X Holdings etc. But Shen Wenlang had given him the choice to make the call here. And Gao Tu found that he didn’t feel like intervening. Some dark sinister part of him, buried deep, almost felt happy at the notion of that literal embodiment of a monster finally paying what he owed in karma. But, his sister… She also had a say. This wasn’t something only he could dictate.
“Can… can it wait? I…” he stumbled over his words a little, feeling jittery under the undivided attention of the alpha he was stupidly in love with. “Xiao Qing… I want her to say her part, first.”
Wenlang didn’t argue, only nodding softly, “As you wish,” and typed a quick text. Gao Tu assumed it was probably to Chang Yu. It clicked in his head then, why was Chang Yu so readily available for Wenlang’s orders? It was a little weird.
But he didn’t have much time to dwell in his thoughts, because Wenlang’s attention was back on him in an instant. The man kept enough distance between them that the omega didn’t feel crowded, but the distance also just so happened to be enough that he felt, albeit unreasonably, rejected. What was wrong with him? Wenlang wasn’t even sitting down, having been pacing the room the entire time he was there. It was making Gao Tu even more uneasy, and his skin prickled with the tension between him and the alpha.
“Can y-you sit…? The pacing is…” He didn’t need to finish the statement, the alpha already moving to settle down next to his bed, on the floor. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realise it was bothering you.”
Gao Tu couldn’t wrap his head around what was happening, especially not with how uncharacteristic Wenlang was acting— docile, soft, apologetic. Gao Tu just kept looking at him for a while, taking in the features of the man— bloodshot eyes with the clear shadows from a lack of sleep, lips chewed so badly they were almost bloodied, usually neat hair a mess that the man kept running his hands through, and still, Gao Tu realised, to him the alpha looked just as ethereal as ever.
Such a time to check out his former boss. But then, this could be the last time he ever got to see the man up close. He deserved that much.
Or maybe he deserved nothing at all.
“I’m sorry. I’ll pay you back for the doctor, and any other inconveniences, and–”
“Gao Tu.”
He stopped talking as fast as he had started, the commanding tone of his name being called vastly different from the way Wenlang commanded at work. He didn’t know how to explain it, but the way the alpha said the two words conveyed a lot more than just the need for obligation.
“Were you the omega from Hotel X?”
Wenlang hadn’t intended for that to be the first question he asked, but with the amount of them swirling in his brain, he didn’t know where to start either. The heaviness around them was crushing him, and he itched to just pull Gao Tu into a tight hug. He wanted to be done with everything and just have his life back, to have Gao Tu back. He didn’t care if the man was an omega, alpha, beta, enigma… hell he didn’t care if Gao Tu was a fucking alien. He was Gao Tu, and that’s all that mattered to Shen Wenlang.
And he wanted the older to stop trying to run away at the smallest little thing, and to not jump to the worst case scenario conclusions for each and every matter. He could literally hear the gears turning in his former secretary’s head, and he could see the smoke radiating from said gears overheating.
But for everything to fall into somewhat of an order, first, he needed his mouth and his brain to cooperate.
“The sage pheromones always clinging onto you, that’s not your… that’s yours, isn’t it?” his words were coming out surprisingly calm, “There was never an omega, was there?”
Gao Tu sat silent. Wenlang had connected each and every dot, and he had nothing to defend himself. The alpha also happened to be exceptionally calm about this all, something he hadn’t seen coming. Gao Tu had expected an outburst, but how the younger was mapping details out was surprisingly thought out. But he also didn’t want Wenlang to misunderstand him.
The omega nodded once, “You… You’re right.” Wenlang hummed softly, dropping his gaze to the ground. “Mr. Shen… I…” Gao Tu swallowed past the apprehension building in his chest, “It wasn’t on purpose, believe me. I… It wasn’t a trap.”
“Suppressant abuse, wasn’t it?” Wenlang’s expression was unreadable, mainly because he wasn’t looking up. But one hand rested on the bed frame, and the the strain of his grip was an enough giveaway to the alpha’s feelings in that moment.
“Sir… I will sign any NDA, any lifelong contract you want me to. I don’t even want to read it,” he pressed on, “You don’t need to part of this… sign away your parental rights. Anything you want, you won’t have any responsibility, any legal involvement.” Gao Tu’s voice was shaking, waterline stinging with tears he stubbornly refused to shed, “I don’t want anything from you, Mr. Shen, I-”
“Shut. Up!” Wenlang snapped, startling the omega. He had promised himself he would do this calmly, wouldn’t get mad, wouldn’t snap. He didn’t deserve to, not after saying all the shit he had over the years to Gao Tu, and not after hurting the man so badly. But—
But, the way the man he loved was talking, the words he was saying, the way he was interpreting the entire situation, even if justified, broke the last thread of patience Wenlang had been holding on to.
“DO YOU HEAR YOURSELF, GAO TU?” The alpha stood up, taking two steps, scared of doing anything reckless in the blind haze of his temper pouring out. Yes, Wenlang was extremely temperamental— easy to annoy, enrage, piss off— but the alpha almost never lost composure. Gao Tu would have flinched on a regular day, but instead just stared— something he’d been doing a lot today— at the younger in shock, almost wanting to crawl in on himself. His stupid instincts were too gone for the man standing before him, and what he wanted to do was comfort the alpha. How damn convenient.
Wenlang’s breathing was uneven, chest rising and falling heavily at the strain it was taking to draw each breath, the oxygen not going in his lungs fast enough. His jaw was clenched so hard, the veins in his neck were visible, and pulled taut.
“How fucking long have you known me, Gao Tu? A WHOLE DECADE! And alright… alright, yes… okay, you never told me,... never told me, or anyone else about your subgender, that… that, that you’re an omega, and I don’t blame you even a bit for that, I am a piece of shit– I GET IT!” his voice was cracking, composure long crumbled like a sandcastle in the face of the tsunami of emotions raging through him, “I have nothing to defend myself… fuck, I won’t even try to. Hate… H-hate me for THAT, you have the rights,” every word he uttered was hurting himself, but he pushed on. What else was there for him to do, otherwise?
“But… but, but the way… the way all you fucking talk about are NDAs… about, about contracts— like ALL I FUCKING CARE ABOUT ARE THOSE THINGS— like all I care about is money…is that… what the fuck do you think of me, huh?! Over a decade of you knowing me, and THAT is all that you took? Was I that fucking bad, Gao Tu?” Wenlang’s throat hurt, his words scraping their way out of his tear choked esophagus. He was sure he was crying, and he couldn’t bring himself to care about it. “Did I not deserve the bare minimum of being informed, huh? Did you have to hate me that much?”
Wenlang had collapsed on his knees a little ways from the bed, head buried in his hands. He was trembling, and it didn’t take Gao Tu a second to figure out that that was from the alpha trying to contain his sobs.
Gao Tu himself had started crying midway of Wenlang talking, biting his lower lip raw just to muffle the sound. One hand wrapped around his abdomen, almost in a protective instinct, the other clutching the comforter and sheets until his knuckles threatened to turn white.
“I had… I had asked… I had asked you that day…” Gao Tu stammered, “... in the office… I… You said… You said you would… you’d… that you’d tell the omega to get an abortion.” He sniffled, hands wrapping around himself tighter. His tears fell without a care now, and he made no effort to wipe them away; there was no point. Gao Tu felt like he was in a constant state of crying lately, and he wished it had to do with his pregnancy hormones. The irony. “You hate omegas… said you would k-kill the o-one th-th-that trap… trapped you,” Gao Tu spoke almost in a daze, voice cracking more and more, his energy starting to deplete, the headache he’s had since waking up hitting back in full force.
“I didn’t want more mess… I didn’t… I didn’t need to hear you insult me further.”
“A-Tu!” the alpha’s voice broke on the last syllable, tear streaked face looking up to meet his gaze with blood shot teary ones. “That… Those words were never meant for you… God… God had I… Had I known… Hell–!”
Wenlang rubbed his face in his hands, still sobbing. Gao Tu found it unbelievable that the President of HS Group was crying the way he was, and that said something, because no one had seen Wenlang’s rare vulnerability except the omega himself. But those were nothing even close to this. For the next few moments, the only sounds were of the two men’s muffled sobs, the walls holding witness to the turmoil churning in their souls, and their unspoken thoughts that they were forcefully putting into words.
Wenlang didn’t know what to do next, which… well does he ever when it comes to the omega in question? His body virtually moved on its own accord as he stood up and came closer to Gao Tu. And, with bated breath, Wenlang noted that the omega didn’t flinch. Far from it. When Wenlang came closer Gao Tu looked at him expectantly. Not with fear, not with disdain… But like he wanted the alpha around.
Gao Tu’s breath was knocked out of him, partially in surprise, partially because of the tight hold, as Wenlang wrapped his arms around the man like his life depended on it. He hugged the older the way he had been yearning to for only god knows how long. And Gao Tu hugged back, the needle of the IV stinging because of the harsh pull, but the omega couldn’t care less. Neither of them were breathing properly, both crying their pent up emotions out in each other’s arms.
“I’m sorry, Gao Tu… Please stay… Please…” Wenlang whispered in the most timid voice Gao Tu had ever heard from him, utterly scared of being pushed away, “I don’t care what you are… you could be an alien, and it doesn’t matter… … as long as it’s you, please A-Tu…. Please… I’m so sorry… I’ll make it up to you, I promise… … … don’t leave me…” Wenlang held onto him like a terrified child, “... I never hated your scent… … I hated that… that it was someone else… someone else’s mark on you… … … it was never because of you, I swear…”
Gao Tu cried harder the more the alpha spoke up, the confessions digging into the wounds of his heart. A decade of suffering, all just to now know that all that was for nothing. Shen Wenlang could be blamed for many things, but it takes two to make a quarrel, and Gao Tu had never let himself look beneath everything, never let himself ponder on any other possibilities. He was too scared to hope, too afraid of further breaking his already cracked heart. And when his, no, their baby came into question, he couldn’t risk it. But now with the alpha’s arms around him in a hug he had longed for, craved, yearned, Gao Tu was reconsidering a lot of things.
“I’m pregnant, Wenlang. With your child,” he whispered between them, “Do you understand what you’re asking for?” Gao Tu didn’t want any more misunderstandings, anymore turmoil, chaos, nor heartache. “Do you know what this would mean?”
The alpha pulled away from the hug, hands slipping to hold Gao Tu’s ones, and pulled them against his chest carefully. “I don’t care. If it’s you, I will whatever is needed from me. Please stay,” the last phrase had become a mantra by now, like he was scared the omega would walk away unless he constantly gave a reminder.
Gao Tu held his gaze, “But you hate children,” and tried to gauge the man’s reactions and emotions. “I’m pregnant,” he repeated just to put emphasis.
“Not if it’s you, Gao Tu. If the child is part of you, I will lay down my life to keep them safe. I will love them with all that I have,” he spoke with such sincerity, the omega couldn’t help but believe it. He said the words as if they were eternal truth, or divine revelation. “I don’t care if you’re an omega, or an alpha, or an enigma… I just care that it’s you, Gao Tu.”
“Listen,” he pressed the omega’s hands over his chest where his pulse could be felt, “Whatever you decide, I will respect it. I know you can’t forgive me, you might n-never forgive me, and I will deserve that. But please,” he whispered, “... please just give me one chance to prove myself.”
Wenlang was begging him now, more tears spilling down the alpha’s cheeks. Gao Tu found his defenses softening— he’s known this man since they were teenagers, he knew Wenlang in and out to not know when the alpha was being sincere, or when he was lying. And right now, there was nothing in the alpha but guilt, remorse, and utter sincerity. “Please, A-Tu. Please stay. Don’t go… please.”
Gao Tu sighed, his built walls opening to make the tiniest space. He gripped the alpha’s hands that were holding his, and pulled them on his lap, fixating on their joined fingers over the comforter. “There’s a lot to make up for, Mr. Shen. Why trouble yourself?”
The omega had said that only to test the waters, but Wenlang responded with even more conviction, “ Because it’s you.”
“And don’t call me so formally. Not here, please.”
Gao Tu nodded, leaning forward enough that his and Wenlang’s foreheads were touching. The two men breathed into the space between them, a comfortable silence washing over them. Things were far far far from perfect, and a lot was yet to be said, to be cleared. The waters were still murky, if not muddy… But it was a start. And it had them, Shen Wenlang and Gao Tu.
“Just one chance. Before you go.”