Chapter Text
Owen Grady looks completely at ease in suburbia.
It’s bizarre, Owen in comfortably worn-in jeans that cling to strong thighs, a leather jacket his only concession to the cold that has Zach burying his face into his scarf. Of course, Owen in a long-sleeved henley and a leather jacket is a pretty damn impressive sight, especially once he removes his jacket and everyone can see the way the henley clings to broad shoulders and defined arms. Tall, broad, and so very handsome, he’s the epitome of every vain fantasy Zach ever had about his dream alpha, and there’s something about the sight of him that makes Zach’s omega hindbrain go over all lazy and smug, a big bowl of look-what-I-got, with a side of look-who-loves-me.
Owen looks completely at home in the sprawling supermarket, impossibly tan under fluorescent lights as he laughs, cheery and loud, giving Gray a boost up so he can reach something off the top shelf. They’d only been home the minutes before Zach had felt the need to escape the house, had muttered something about snacks and tugged Owen to the door, Gray hurrying to find his coat so he could join them. The chilly silences that were the norm in their house before Zach and Gray went on vacation are now long, drawn-out arguments between his parents, passive-aggressive sniping that makes Gray silent and Zach uncomfortable.
The contrast between his parents’ bitterness and Zach’s own happiness is telling. Zach looks at his parents and wonders, wonders because surely if this is what they’ve become, they never felt what he feels for Owen, this tremendous sense of right, like he used to only be half but is now part of a whole, together and complete, forever. Both his parents are betas, but they surely loved one another once, right? Their biological instincts are a bit less intense, and they don’t experience the longing for their true mate, the one person in all the world just for them, the way most alphas and omegas do; but betas can fall in love and marry too. They had to have been in love once, even if they aren’t now.
Zach vows to never be like his parents.
*
Zach’s bedroom door is barely shut behind them, shutting Gray and his parents and the world out, before Zach launches himself at his alpha. Owen catches him about the waist, holding him close and tight, surrounding him with in a strong hold that smells like safety.
“Hey,” Owen soothes, his tone similar to when he’s talking to his raptors, low and gentle. “Hey, it’s okay."
Owen walks Zach backwards until the bed brushes against Zach’s thighs, and with a gentle push, Zach finds himself sprawled over his bed. “There you go,” Owen says, climbing on the bed and crowding in close, settling in between the vee of Zach’s legs and pressing their chests together, propping himself up on his elbows so he’s not crushing Zach, but still boxing him in, holding him still, surrounding him with the scent of mate.
All the built-up tension Zach’s been holding seems to just drain away as he goes lax, omega hindbrain convinced he’s safe, that nothing can get him here.
He promptly bursts into tears.
“Oh fuck,” Owen says, and Zach flinches. He’s never thought of himself as the kind of person to just cry at the smallest little thing, and oh gods, what must his alpha think of him now -
Owen shifts, moving away slightly, and Zach can’t help himself, reaches out and clings and sobs, even as Owen is shifting them around so he’s on his back, so Zach is draped across his chest, held close by Owen’s strong arms.
“Shhh,” he says. “It’s okay, pretty. Let it out. I’m not going anywhere."
The sobs are great, heaving, ugly things, the kind that make Zach’s face hot and leave him gasping for breath, overwhelming as he buries his face in Owen’s shirt.
“You’re okay, babe,” Owen says. “I’m here, and I love you. You’re safe."
It occurs to Zach that Owen is taking this rather well, his dumb little omega completely breaking down after a day of traveling with his parents. When he manages to say as much, though, Owen sighs.
“You’re not dumb. I was waiting for it, Zach."
“Y’were waiting for me to completely fall apart and snot all over you?"
“Yes,” Owen admits. “You’ve been through a lot in the last week, Zach. I knew it was gonna catch up with you eventually."
“You’ve been through a lot too,” Zach says sullenly, tears slipping down his face still, even as his breathing evens out.
Owen shifts awkwardly under Zach’s weight, suddenly tense. “It’s not - I can’t talk about - I’ve done stuff,” he says eventually. “Stuff that means I’ve had years of practice at being cool and calm even when I’m terrified, practice at letting it go after."
“So it doesn’t affect you anymore?” Zach’s imagination is running wild with the thought of his alpha in far-flung places, facing danger in jungles and deserts and places too far away from Zach.
“I was terrified from the moment I met you,” Owen says, with a little huff of laughter. “Terrified, because the Indominus meant you were in danger. It’s all I could think about."
“But you didn’t fall apart after.” Not that Zach remembers, and they’d spent pretty much every moment together after they met, from that first night at the hotel when Gray crawled in with them to sleep, to this morning when they touched down in Chicago.
“Oh, I had a little mini-breakdown of my own in the shower that night,” Owen admits easily. “Shakes, manly tears, the whole works."
“That’s - I couldn’t tell."
“Well, I couldn’t let my future-mate see, now, could I? Honestly, I think I was just so relieved to see you it didn’t matter anymore. That, and I was about to eat a burger the size of my head."
Zach laughs. “They were pretty good burgers."
There’s a moment of silence after that, but it’s comfortable, Zach’s cheek pressed against Owen’s chest, strong fingers rubbing little circles into his back. Zach doesn’t know whether it’s biology or just the fact that Zach has never met someone like Owen, but he’s never felt as safe, as content as he is now, lying with Owen.
He shifts so he can look his alpha in the eye. “What if we head to your parents’ a few days early?” They’d planned to head out to Montana for a couple of days after Christmas to say hi before heading back to Isla Nublar.
Owen looks surprised, obviously not expecting that from him. “Look,” Zach continues, “it’s obviously not going to be a great time here. My parents have their own problems going on, Gray’s still coming to terms with the fact that I’ll be leaving soon - what if we go to Montana for Christmas and take Gray? If that wouldn’t be a problem, of course."
“My folks’ll never let Gray leave,” Owen says, visibly excited by the idea. He’s so open, letting Zach see his every thought play across his face. “He’ll love it. You’ll love it. I’ll have to introduce you to my childhood bed. Maybe repeatedly."
Zach flushes, still unused to the idea that he’s having sex on the regular now.
“That’s if they say yes,” he remembers, after a moment. “Not about me, I obviously don’t need their permission anymore, but I don’t want to leave Gray here by himself."
“Not on Christmas,” Owen says, and his ready acceptance of Zach’s idea makes something in his chest go pleasantly warm. Owen’s been nothing but incredibly supportive. Meet future-mate’s parents? No problem. Stand steadfast in the face of said parents’ interrogation and accusations, a constant presence at Zach’s back, spirit him away when Zach asks, mate him properly? Owen’s pleasure. Fly back to Zach’s hometown for a few days with sniping parents? Bring it on.
Zach is pretty much the luckiest omega in the world.
“I should go ask them,” he says. “Flights’ll be a bitch to find, so the sooner the better."
“I get to tell Gray, right?” Zach’s big doofus of an alpha is ridiculously excited about being the bearer of good news.
Zach laughs. “Sure.” He goes to sit up, only to be tugged back down. Owen meets him halfway, mouth hot against his own, a sweeping, claiming kiss that leaves Zach breathless. Yeah, he’s never getting used to that. Owen looks smug when they break for air. Zach pinches his nipple in retaliation and darts away, throwing his bedroom door open and heading down the stairs.
The mood in the kitchen is decidedly less cheerful. His Mom raises her voice, and his Dad is mean, but Zach clenches his jaw and resolutely keeps his voice calm. Of course Owen’s not trying to take Gray from them, Owen’s not like that.
“It was my idea!” Zach says finally. “I don’t want to be in this house anymore. Neither does Gray. It feels… toxic. Right now I want to leave this house and never come back. I think Gray wants to pack himself into my luggage!” He sighs. “Look, I think you guys need some more time to figure out your separation. Us staying here to be pawns in your tug-of-war isn’t helping anybody."
His Dad opens his mouth, probably to have another jab about how oh, Zach’s a relationship expert now he’s got an alpha, but all three of them are hushed by the sound of Gray’s steps bounding down the stairs.
“Can I go?” Gray’s practically vibrating with excitement, the first real show of emotion from him in days. “Can I go with Zach?"
“I don’t know," his Mom starts, but his Dad sighs.
“Let him go,” he says, quiet. He sounds - old. Defeated, in a way Zach’s never heard.
*
“Travel over Christmas is ridiculous,” Zach says, when Owen comes upstairs. He’s across like every airline with a million tabs open on his laptop, but he’s not making a lot of progress. Every single available ticket is hella expensive, and Owen’s already flown a bazillion miles for Zach, not even blinking at the cost, he’s not just going to pile on more.
Owen slides in behind him, cradling Zach in the vee of his legs as he leans back against the pile of pillows at the head of the bed.
“These are the best available,” Zach says, warmth curling through his belly as Owen snugs up against his back, chin on Zach’s shoulder so he can see where he’s pointing. “And they’re so - what are you doing?” Owen seems to be doing some kind of interpretive dance behind him.
“Here,” Owen says, dropping his wallet in Zach’s lap. “Just book them, and we’ll go."
“They’re really expensive,” Zach says, unsure. His fingers trace the leather of Owen’s wallet - sturdy, good quality, obviously cared for.
“Doesn’t matter,” Owen says, flipping the wallet open and pulling out a card. “Taking my omega out to big sky country for the first time? Priceless."
Zach laughs, and picks up the card. Owen seems to content himself by wrapping his arms around Zach and rubbing his thumbs back and forth on Zach’s belly while he sorts the details, finally sending the e-tickets to his printer and leaning back into Owen with a sigh. They sit like that for a moment, quiet and comfortable.
“I guess we should have the money conversation at some point, huh,” Owen says eventually, tightening his arms around Zach’s middle.
“I’ve got a fund,” Zach says quickly. “And I haven't applied to college or anything like that, so it was always just a future-fund."
“Good,” Owen says, kissing his ear. “I like the idea that you have money of your own. So if you want to get a job on the island - or hell, even on the mainland, the ferries come often enough to make that feasible - you’ve got your own account, you’re independent like that."
“I want to contribute,” Zach says, stubborn.
“Okay,” Owen agrees. “But don’t just sign everything over, alright? We can split things. The house was built by Masrani Corp when I moved out to the island, I’ve - we’ve got a ten-year lease with eight to go that says we don’t have to pay a cent for it. But if you don’t like it, if we need more room, we can expand, or look at one of the other staff properties."
“I love the lake,” Zach says, keeping his voice mild. “And you’d hate living in an apartment complex."
Owen laughs, the rumble of it comforting against Zach’s back. “Yeah, I would.” He nips at Zach’s earlobe with his teeth - what’s his fascination with Zach’s ears?! - and it makes him shiver. “But I’d move if you wanted to, pretty."
“I don’t,” Zach says firmly.
“Okay then. Settled.” Owen leans back further into the pillows, taking Zach with them so they’re stretched out more instead of leaning over Zach’s laptop. “It’s weird talking about money. But I had nearly ten years of hazard pay in the Navy, and I get paid a stupidly large amount to be raptor alpha."
Zach snorts. “Yes, because I’m sure 'raptor alpha’ isn’t listed as a hazardous job at all."
“Shuddup,” Owen says, playful, and plants a smacking kiss on Zach’s neck. “My girls are total pushovers, and you know it.” That’s a lie, and they both know it, but the placement of the next kiss makes Zach shiver, and at Owen’s laugh, he arches, grinding his ass back. “Oh, so that’s how you want to play it, huh?"
Zach abruptly finds himself on his back, hands pinned above his head. He narrows his eyes and locks his ankles behind Owen’s back, arching up and rubbing himself against his alpha like he’s in heat, sliding their dicks together and delighting in the friction even through two layers of denim, cock hard and weeping in his pants. It takes nothing to get him hot and ready these days, his pants going tight at the smallest things, the way Owen looks when he smirks, the way Owen's muscles shift when he reaches for something, the way Owen's voice goes low and rough when he sees something he likes. Actually, pretty much everything that gets Zach hot and ready is Owen-related.
“Fuck,” Owen manages.
“That was the general idea,” Zach says, with a coy smile, eyes fluttering shut as Owen rubs against him.
“No,” Owen says, “you’re going to come like this. Right here, in your pants like the teenager you are, rubbing off on me.” He grinds himself down, the heat of alpha cock tangible through their jeans. Damned if Owen isn’t right, the friction hard and perfect, making Zach’s blood sing, can he can feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge as his alpha smirks down at him.
He leans down and nuzzles at Zach’s neck, and there’s the sharp sting of teeth at his scent gland, so close to the place where Owen set his teeth and made Zach his own, the bite still tender and new, and the sensation makes Zach’s vision go grey as he orgasms, whining and arching up against his alpha.
“Damn, pretty,” Owen says, voice low and rough, and Zach opens his eyes to see Owen sitting back on his knees, jeans open and cock in hand.
Zach makes a noise in the back of his throat that’s not a whimper, thankyou very much. He gets his elbows underneath him, eyes fixed on the ruddy head of Owen’s dick as it appears and disappears between Owen’s fingers as he jacks himself. He twists around until he’s on his belly, face pressed close to where his alpha’s scent is the strongest, feeling Owen’s fingers brush against his cheek on every downstroke.
Zach shoves Owen’s hand away. “Mine,” he says, right before he opens his mouth over his alpha’s cock.
Zach is relatively new to the whole cocksucking thing. As in, was a complete virgin five days ago. He’s obviously picking up the skill quickly, though, if the groan Owen makes when Zach sucks at the head of his dick is any indication.
“Fuck,” Owen says.
“Not this time,” Zach says, pulling off Owen’s cock so he can lick his way down the length, tongue tracing a vein below hot, fragile skin, “this time you’re going to fuck my mouth."
Owen snarls at that, the kind of sound that sends a thrill up Zach’s spine, and he feels his hole clench, cunt slick and ready even as he takes Owen into his mouth again, swallowing gently as he works his alpha’s dick into his throat. He’s surrounded by the scent and the sound of his alpha, eyes closed and world narrowed to the feeling of cock against his tongue as he bobs up and down and listens to the soft grunts from above him. He moans when Owen’s hand brushes against his hair, gentle where he wants firm pressure, and Owen must get the message because he winds his fingers through Zach’s hair and tugs.
Zach rewards his clever alpha by sucking harder, one hand rolling Owen’s balls in between gentle fingers, feeling the way they’re tight and high under the attention as his other hand circles the base, the skin damp with saliva where Owen’s knot would form if he was locked inside Zach.
“Zach,” Owen says desperately. “Zach, I’m going to come-"
It’s a warning, his alpha being considerate, but it’s not what Zach wants. He forces himself lower, swallowing around the length that’s in his throat now, so deep it’s a part of Zach, and he feels Owen jerk against his tongue, dick spasming in little movements as Zach tries to open his throat wider, to make his mouth a perfect hole for Owen to fuck his way into.
Owen thrusts in and comes, hot and endless down Zach’s throat, gasping praise falling from his lips as he cradles Zach’s head in shaking hands, a litany of sweet words that are no less heartfelt just because they’re spoken as Zach himself hums around his alpha’s spurting cock.