Feed me your love

Chapter 2

With Micah’s increased appetite, stealing during the lean winter months became harder to sustain, harder because the Head Alpha’s greed knew no bounds and neither did Micah’s growing appetite. They both seemed to be growing at a pace that meant Evan spent most of his days and nights on the streets.

“If I keep eating like this, do you think I’ll get big enough for people to leave us both alone?” Evan said mindlessly. Not that he could even wolf down a sliver of his stolen goods, not when Micah’s eyes grew wide and pleading for another sweet, practically begging for it from out of his mouth.

Without pausing between bites, Micah sighed, “Yeah, a bit, but it really doesn’t matter how big you are if you’re not an Alpha.”

Alpha, beta, omega—foreign looming concepts that would someday dictate the pecking order of their freedoms.

Deep in thought, Micah ate faster, fueling the furrow in his brows. “Let’s get out of here before then. Just you and me. Find some small place where they don’t care what we look like or how old we are. Alpha, beta, or even fucking omega. A place where being big and having cash is enough to keep things quiet.”

“Someplace warmer?” Evan joked, even with Micah’s big frame offering an additional layer against the chill.

“Definitely.” Micah chuckled, huffing a bit as he leaned over his big belly to pick up another bun. “Mmm. I can smell the custard in this one. My favorite.”

Micah’ chubby cheeks flared out as he stuffed the entire roll into his mouth. Evan fought back a hacking laugh as he watched. These moments were what he lived for. It’s why he went out daily to steal Micah treats. If it made Micah’s stomach stop rumbling and kept him warm at night, life was pleasant. A hungry, cold Micah was not and it made them both miserable.

This, on the other hand, was a life worth living.

Inevitably, things took a turn for the worst. Evan got older, but no less bigger, and he made an excellent punching bag when caught. A fair amount of newer Alphas meant that everyone’s hormones were running wild and Evan was the perfect target.

He couldn’t even keep up with the names of the newly presented kids, but they all somehow knew his name. Knew about him and Micah’s little deal, and this cocky fucker seethed with envy.

“You still out doing your friend’s dirty work, little shit?”

“At least I’ve got someone who actually cares about me, unlike you.” Cheek aching, blood filling his mouth, Evan hocked back and spat blood stained saliva. Right into the fucking Alpha kid’s glaring, stupid face.

Evan knew the danger, gambling with an Alpha’s mood, and the fist that went flying into his cheek was the answer for his impudent confidence.

Roaring, the fucker unleashed his fists and pheromones, pummeling Evan into submission. Even without a secondary gender, an Alpha’s ability to subdue their prey was unrivaled, and Evan was no rival to begin with.


“Making yourself into a nice easy target, like some fucking omega. You runts ain’t got no future, so you best learn your fucking place.“

Stone digging into his cheeks and arm, Evan froze on the cold ground beneath the Alpha’s wailing fists. Stupid. All he’d wanted to do was make today special for Micah. They were seventeen now, or so he guessed given neither of them knew each other’s real birthday.

Fighting his way out of the Alpha’s grip, Evan slammed his jaw against the nameless assailant. Vision blurring, Evan ran, cheek throbbing.

Now he’d be coming home covered in some Alpha’s marks, bloody welts and reeking pheromones. Nothing broken, with welts on his cheek and the one gift he could give to make Micah smile ruined squashed under his ribcage.


Breathless, Evan slunk his way back to Micah.

Thick fingers grabbed his chin, lifting his gaze up, “Who hit you this time?”

Those fingers were gentle on his jaw, and not for the first time Evan noticed just how big Micah had grown. Micah kept getting bigger. Evan frowned at Micah’s too small shirt and pants, sighing in thought.

Probably needed some new clothes. He’d have to steal that next too.

Micah’s face grew stormy, plump lips thinning as he took in Evan’s colorful complexion.

“Fuck, we gotta get outta here, Evan. You can’t keep taking hits like this. Don’t tell me it was Blake again, you know better than to fuck with him.”

“Nah. It was one of his former flunkies. Little up and coming shit that fucking thinks having his secondary gender means he can beat up anyone he likes. He’s got nobody except his fists.”

Frowning at Evan’s bruised jaw, Micah sighed, “Send him my way next time. Bet I could sit on him and he would freak out.”

Evan pictured Micah, tree trunk legs folded as he put his full weight onto his smaller opponent. Everyone's smaller than Micah, his eyes widened, conjuring up the image left him dizzy. He’d be completely smothered beneath two hundred pounds of fleshy, pillowy Micah. The thought made blood pound in his ears, warming him with something he could only call envy. As if something he’d desperately wanted had been revealed and stolen from him in the same breath.

He wanted that for himself.

Jaw tightening, Evan hissed, momentarily forgetting the arousal flooding him.

His discomfort fit like a second skin drawn too tight.

“I’ll start looking for a new place,” Micah declared, shutting up Evan’s sputtering refusal with a single, thick finger.

They did find a place, surprisingly fast.

A small studio, but with the one thing Evan had made as an ultimate requirement. He wanted a worker kitchenette. Evan spent the first few days in their studio learning how to use the stove, and spent the following months learning how to cook. Stealing food wasn’t cutting it to keep up with Micah’s appetite anymore.

They managed to fill the space with a bed, just big enough to hold them both. A radio, a table for two, and dozens of pillows to make up for the lack of a designated couch.

Whereas Evan was still lean-boned and short, Micah seemed to gain everything and then some.

Whatever height Evan should have been graced with seemed to transfer to Micah, and then triple in the process.

“I should get a job too.” Micah declared as he plowed through his third serving of garlicky, creamy white pasta.

“Why? You keep the place safe with your size and I go make the money.” Having long finished his serving, Evan relaxed beside Micah’s continuous feasting.

“Yeah, but you also come back and cook all this. I feel useless.” Micah stopped eating then, taking in the table and giving Evan a cold shiver of unease.

“You’re not though. If you weren’t here, we’d be fucked. You may not be an Alpha, but nobody bothers you.”

Evan slipped the dessert onto the table, successfully distracting Micah as he poured warm syrup onto the sweet dish.

“Eat up. It’s your favorite.”

It should have been annoying, watching Micah sit back and fill his already sagging belly, but Evan knew well enough he’d helped push Micah in that direction. Micah was naturally predisposed to blossom beneath Evan’s protective, indulgent gaze. From one season to the next, Micah went from a pudgy boy to an immovable force of nature.

Heating wasn’t nearly as much of an issue during the day, but at night, when the cold settled in, Micah’s swollen full belly still kept them blissfully warm.

At eighteen, neither had yet to present, so it was safe to assume they’d be forgettable betas.

Standing side by side now, Evan had to stretch his neck far back to get a good look at all of Micah. Almost overnight, he’d grown out of everything Evan had ever stolen and stood taller and wider than even the tallest man he’d ever met. Ducking under and sideways through most doorways, Micah could easily be mistaken for an Alpha.

In the mirror, side by side, they looked comically mismatched.

Combing his hair, Evan tsked, “How come you got all the height?”

“Probably cause you give me all the food.” Micah ribbed, pushing Evan harder than he intended.

Away from their miserable, meager first home, Micah had filled out to the point that they’d had to ditch getting a bed entirely, too tall for most of the frames available for a studio their size.

With time, more food was necessary to keep the warm going inside of Micah. Inevitably, Evan gave in, even when Micah complained of a near constant belly ache with how much more he needed. Still, every night, Evan made sure Micah went to sleep with a sleepy, joyful smile and skin hot and achy from a massive meal.

The angry hot marks stretching across his skin were only quieted down by Evan sneaking his arms over to gently trace them with his cold fingertips.

“That feels good,” Micah whispered, relaxing into Evan’s touch.

Evan responded by burrowing into Micah, pressing his cold cheek to Micah’s broad back. Heavy, pillowy arms crept around to trap Evan’s arms, weighing him down to keep up the magic touch that quieted his angry skin.

Evan’s voice came out small, muffled and lost behind Micah’s bulk.

Micah hummed. “What did you say?”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Micah chuckled sleepily.

“For this.” Evan’s fingers trailed over the spidery webs of fire on Micah’s skin. He shivered at Evan’s touch, though he didn’t push him away.

Micah shrugged, breaking out into a massive, jaw-cracking yawn. “But I like it. Feels good.”

“Yeah?” Evan’s voice felt tight, wet, and he prayed Micah was too tired to give it much thought.

Being this full and tired made Micah impatient for sleep, his body eager to relax into Evan’s touch and drift into the sweet dreams that left him curiously ravenous come morning.

Micah hummed. “Yeah, now go to sleep.”

Biting his lip, Evan nodded. “Night.”

When Evan awoke, it was to the overwhelming heat of Micah. Heady, painfully dizzying, and coming from all directions, pheromones he’d never expected to smell drowned him.

It was the day Micah presented as an alpha.

It became trickier for Evan to not give in to Micah’s demands, not when Micah unwittingly used his Alpha pheromones on even someone like Evan, whose secondary gender was still stubbornly ambiguous.

As if with some secret clue to Evan’s mind, Micah seemed to know how far he could push Evan. His demands started small, begging unthinkingly for another sweet that slipped between his plush lips without a second thought. Decadent desires that Evan slaved in the kitchen to create, if only to keep the new Alpha’s scent sweet and happy.

Sooner than he liked though, Micah’s demands became much harder to ignore.

After dinner, sitting at their table, Micah scratched his belly in thought.

“Now that I’m an Alpha,” he started, watching Evan closely, “I could easily get a job.”

Out of panic, Evan stood up from the table, reaching out for his usual arsenal of sweets to distract Micah. Meaty fingers engulfed his, stopping him in their immovable grip.

“You’ve done all the work up until now. It’s my turn.”

Evan scented Micah’s desperation, his eagerness and excitement, something he’d fought every day to give Micah.

A deep, rich scent lay beneath it, familiar and warm, like coming home.

The greedy part of Evan’s mind whispered, You’ll have more time to cook if you’re not hustling the streets.

At Evan’s defeated sigh, Micah tugged him into his belly, crushing him in an overwhelmingly soft hug.

Evan blushed from head to toe, trying to hide his arousal, pushing futilely at Micah’s bulk.

“Yeah, yeah, you just want me off the streets. Don’t you?” Evan teased from the hollow of Micah’s breasts, resting close to listen to his drumming heartbeat.

Thick shoulders pulled back and the look Micah gave him shot through like lightning.

He gave a short, quick nod that Evan couldn’t find the words to acknowledge.

“Off the streets.” Micah left everything else unsaid, but there was enough worry and hope etched in his round face that Evan fell into acquiescence without a single Alpha-like command.

At over two meters tall and as wide as a mountain, Micah found high paying jobs easily. His Alpha status made it all the easier for him to get the highest bid as a worker, whether it was manual labor or something a bit more clandestine.

Evan took that money, and with the long ago whispered words of Alphas from his youth, he made more money. He didn’t resort to gamble, but if he listened in the right spots, he knew how to make his money grow.

More and more, their home smelled like Micah. A heady, thick and warm scent, undefinable beyond the description of full. Overwhelming to most, it kept others away, but Evan had grown oddly needy of the scent. Prone to curling up in one of Micah’s oversized shirts, or a sweater Micah had yet again outgrown.

If it kept others away from him too, that was fine.



Eighteen years old and he was still finding out the hard way that nothing quite woke up Micah besides his internal alarm clock. It was getting harder and harder to slip out from beneath Micah’s massive snuggling grasp, whether because he held on tight or because he was just so damn big. Over four hundred pounds of Alpha was quite literally impossible for him to move.

It’d caused Micah quite the fright one morning, when Evan hadn’t woken before him. He’d been blissfully stuck beneath Micah’s weight, cushioned on all sides by immovable Alpha. He’d been used like a pillow, trapped beneath Micah, left on the edge of euphoric breathlessness all night.

“Shit! Evan, you alive down there?”

Humming happily, Evan felt Micah heave himself up. He didn’t care that he was grinning goofily. Groggy with happiness as he burrowed back into the warmth of Micah’s now vacant spot.

It was one of the few times Evan had let his guard down in the morning. Choosing to instead languish under the covers. His stomach ached ever so slightly stretchy and tender. Needy. The warm, alpha-scented covers seemed to make it both better and worse with each passing second. Without the weight of Micah’s warmth covering him, he felt loose; flighty, as if the next breeze would send him spiraling.

Micah yawned, humming softly as he took in a deep breath of morning air, “Hmm. Something smells good, like spring’s on the way.”

Taking in a similarly deep breath, Evan choked, full on the scent of his own musk now instead of Micah’s.

“Yeah,” He croaked, scrambling out of bed and away from Micah, trying to keep his feet steady as he all but ran to the bathroom.

Door shut, legs wobbling, he turned on the water, desperate to hide the scent of the slick seeping down his legs.

Fingers shaking, Evan reached down to confirm the truth that he’d been desperate to avoid. At the ripe age of eighteen, he had been so certain he’d never present a secondary gender. There was no denying now that his body had finally decided to ripen, making it impossible to pass as an insignificant beta.

Barely holding back a moan, fingers wet, Evan lifted his hand to face the truth. Undeniably omega.

“You okay in there?” Micah asked from the other side of the door.

“Yeah! Yeah! I just forgot I gotta run out to the store.” Evan pulled the shower curtain closed. He yelped as the cold water shot through his cursed rising libido, chilling it to a dull throb.

He’d need suppressants, right? Or would Micah’s Alpha pheromones hide his scent long enough for him to go unnoticed? He didn’t know if Micah had a strong sense of smell. Fuck, he’d been horny around him before, but Micah never seemed to respond. Maybe he didn’t have a strong enough sense of smell, but even Micah would have to notice living day in and day out with an omega.

Fuck.

Oblivious to his inner turmoil, Micah continued, “Okay. My shift is at eight this morning. Sorry if that threw you off. I’ll, uh, I’ll write you a list of things to pick up from the store.”

Evan sank to the bottom of the tub. Not quite back to normal, still aching in ways both profound and embarrassing, Evan tried to clear his mind. Sure that Micah was gone, Evan snuck out of the bathroom to grab Micah’s grocery list.

“Someone’s hungry.” Evan chuckled at the extensive list, shaking his head as he tucked himself into Micah’s oversized coat. The weight and warmth of it, the smell of Micah, calmed the creeping ache of want that had started low in his belly.

It was truly an absurd list, with far more treats than meals on it, but Evan would get it all. After all, he had a hard time saying no to his Alpha.

He grabbed a wad of cash from their kiddy, marking in their shared journal how much he’d taken for the day.

Micah kept their finances tidy, a wizard at making their money extend, and Evan spent it well outside of their home. A shrewd investor, Evan knew he didn’t need to steal for their meals, and though he still felt the itch of his thieving childhood, he settled for stealing smiles and laughter out of Micah instead.

On his way to the grocery store, he dropped into the local clinic. With enough cash, he could get in and get out without going on record.

After running a few quick tests, the doctor confirmed what Evan already knew.

“It’s rather inevitable that someone your age and small size would present as an omega. The first day’ll be tough, but take your suppressants and you should be able to go about your day without much trouble. Heats are another story, but this paperwork should help you.”

“How long does it take for the suppressants to start working?”

“Technically it takes a week, but you should notice a marked difference after today. By the way, your paperwork says you live with an unmated Alpha, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Does he know you’re an omega?”

Stoney faced, he stared at the doctor before answering. “No.”

He left the rest unspoken.

“Aha. Well, I’m going to prescribe you a little something. It goes over the gland here and dissolves into your skin. It should help.”

The doctor pressed a thin, see-through patch along the length of his neck. It numbed the overwhelming scent that had been starting to fill up the room.

“Since it dissolves into your skin, put it on in the afternoon, after you shower. It’s not perfect, so don’t get stuck in any… compromising positions.”

Grocery list in hand, Evan nearly bought out the entire store. Anything that would could be construed as a potential distraction for Micah. Strong smelling curry spices, thick tripe, sugar glazed meats, and all the sweet ingredients to fill their studio with all the things Micah loved. Anything to keep Micah in the dark about Evan’s new status as an omega.

Evan’s skin burned, drowning in Micah’s pheromones as he took the suppressant that did nothing to suppress the latent desire he’d been fighting for so long.

Evan timed Micah’s arrival perfectly. The oven beeped in warning, waking Evan up right as the front door opened.

Evan shot up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he watched the huge dark shadow of Micah filling up all the empty spaces of their studio.

They’d need a bigger place if this kept up. Somewhere with doors tall enough that Micah didn’t need to stoop or walk sideways to get his big belly through. A place where he could set up a proper table, one big enough for a buffet of foods. A nice, walk-in shower, big enough that both of them could fit into. He let those fantasies drift away, pushing them out as he rushed to the oven to grab out the freshly baked cookies.

Micah’s eyes were glazed over, his stomach grumbling as he reached out for a fresh cookie. Even as he hissed, he bit into the fresh, gooey treat, falling right into Evan’s trap.

Lost to the scent of baked goods, Micah didn’t even take the time for their normal pleasantries. Whether or not Micah was aware of Evan’s tricks, it didn’t matter, as long as they worked to keep him distracted.

“Special occasion?” Micah finally asked after plowing through the sheet, licking his fingers slowly.

Tight lipped, Evan shook his head, “No, but you better wash up. Dinner’s on the way.”