I’m not gonna wear that to the graduation, Greg had said. All the kids are gonna look at me.
And how many of them will say ‘Super Alpha came to my graduation’ ten years from now? Dale had retorted. Then, to convince his husband, he’d added, You know Phil loves Super Alpha. You’ve spent the last eight years reading those comics to him.
Greg had looked between the suit they’d stayed up three nights to make, and the button-down shirt with black pants and formal shoes. I’ll think about it, he’d finally said. Maybe some other time.
Dale had left him to decide, wondering if Greg still felt the need to dress nicely, after Bernard Hastings had spent so long instilling in him the value of status and dress codes. Usually, they’d attend events in suits, but a school graduation was new.
With bated breath, Dale collected the coloring sheets from the children, tidying up the buckets of building blocks. The rainbows on the center walls beamed down at him, and the rest of his kindergartners flipped through the storybooks, waiting for their parents to pick them up.
Over the last decade, Dale had settled into his job. The staff at the childcare center was friendly, helping him fit in as a teacher. Through the years, he’d had his share of welcoming new omegas into their ranks.
He still missed the college and his nanoparticle lab, though. June had taken over in the years after he’d left, and was now a professor at Meadowfall College. As an alpha, it had only taken her eight years to achieve tenure. They still talked frequently, and exchanged pictures of their families.
All things considered, this wasn’t such a bad place to be, unlike what he’d feared when he’d first lost his job at the college.
The bells on the door jangled.
Dale’s breath caught when a masked man in a red suit stepped through. It was an alpha; he smelled like aspen, crimson spandex stretched across his broad shoulders and down his chest, showing off the flex of his biceps as he shut the door.
Then he turned, his black eyes searching out Dale, and Dale was smiling so wide he thought his face might split.
“Super Alpha!” Sally cried. The other children turned to look, scrambling to their feet.
“Hey, kids,” Super Alpha said, and Dale’s heart swelled so big it felt as though it might burst. “I’m here to pick up someone.”
The children rushed around him in a clamor, touching his suit, the black utility belt at his waist. Dale couldn’t stop laughing.
“That’s your ride, Dale?” Lisa asked, looking up from the attendance book. She was still the center’s headmistress, and Dale had told her about leaving early today. She’d promised to close up the center so he could attend Phil’s graduation.
“That’s my ride,” Dale said, finally stepping forward.
“Have fun! Graduations are so nostalgic.” Lisa grinned and waved him off, and Dale saluted. Lisa had been around for him through his employment, and she’d met Greg a handful of times, during their staff events. She’d never once commented on their age difference, which Dale highly appreciated.
He made his way past the low tables and bag shelves, nudging through the swarm of ten kindergartners. “Come on, dears. Super Alpha has business to attend to. Do let him leave.”
Up close, Super Alpha was even more majestic. Dale had stitched a white A over his left breast, and his sleeves ended in sleek black gloves. His mask extended over his eyes, leaving his full lips exposed. Inches away, his warmth emanated through the air between them, familiar and comforting.
“Hey,” Super Alpha said.
“Hello. Are you here for an arrest? Have I committed a crime?” Dale asked, smiling.
“Did he?” Sally asked, wide-eyed.
“Nah, he didn’t.” Super Alpha slipped his arm around Dale’s waist and drew him close, kissing him lightly on the lips.
Some of the children gasped. Others cooed. Someone said, “Mr. Dale’s married to Super Alpha?”
“Can you really fly?” someone else asked.
“I have a Super Mobile,” Super Alpha said, ruffling their hair. “But we’ll have to leave now. Have a villain to catch. See you, kids.”
Dale laughed, and Greg swept him out of the childcare center, his arm strong and sturdy around Dale’s waist. “Been catching villains all day, Super Alpha?’
“More like I’ve been taking a team out to the rivers for some water samples,” Greg said as they neared their car, pulling the passenger door open for Dale. “The wonders of being promoted: you let your underlings do your dirty work.”
“Ha! That sounds like something a villain would say.” Dale chuckled, purring when Greg kissed him again, deeper this time. They lingered outside the car, Greg’s lips soft against his, Dale’s fingers skimming the silky fabric over his alpha’s abs. “Mm. This suit really shows you off. Especially your butt.”
Greg pulled away with a smile. “Hey, you wanted me to wear this to the graduation.”
“I’m sure everyone will be suitably envious of me,” Dale said, smiling wryly. He slid into the car, Greg joining him inside a few moments later. “Although... maybe they’d start looking at me, too.”
For a moment, he hesitated, swearing at himself. He’d forgotten that, by putting Greg in the spotlight, he’d be drawing attention to himself, and their relationship.
Bernard Hastings had never made a fuss publicly over their bonding. He’d been civil the few times Greg, Dale, and Phil had been to his mansion, but Dale felt his scrutiny every time he appeared in front of his ex-employer.
No one would recognize him at the graduation, but people would look—he was fifty-three now, and Greg thirty-three.
“Hey,” Greg said, reaching over to squeeze his hand. “We’ll be fine.”
Dale’s ring gleamed. He sucked in a deep breath, trying to kill the tendril of anxiety in his chest. They’d spent eleven years around Meadowfall, and few had given them a second look. Everything had gone right with their relationship. Most importantly, Greg was still Dale’s alpha—that would never change. Dale wanted Greg as his alpha.
“Okay,” he said, nodding. “I won’t think about it.”
The
