Moe tentatively reached for the chrome handrail, experiencing a painful hesitation. He felt disgusted and nauseous, not wanting to ascend the steps of the private jet. With a sharp turn, he pushed Einer away with his right hand and shielded Miny, who was asleep in the sling, with his left hand. His heart pounded like a trapped bird, his ears filled with the rush of blood, and Moe stumbled down the runway between the parted bodyguards, gasping for air. He didn't care; he would figure it out as he had done before. He would buy fake passports, board a ship from Batam, sail to... no, it might be safer to travel by car to Johor Baru, and in Malaysia, he could buy a fake passport to avoid the meticulous checks of Singapore, then fly to Thailand...
"Moe," Einer, keeping his distance, sensing Moe's simmering anger, walked beside him with tense steps. "Please, believe me. I will never, do you hear me? I will never betray you. You'll be safer with me than anywhere else. Moe, where are you going?"
"Get away from me, damn it, just get away!" Moe roared, forcefully shoving Einer in the chest, his hatred for him burning fiercely until it clouded his vision with red. "Every single bad thing in my life happened because of you and your family! My family would still be alive! I wouldn't have been targeted to be turned into mincemeat, nearly killing Miny inside me! You... I hate you with every fiber of my being! And don't you dare try to convince me that my hatred gives you hope. You're the worst thing that's ever happened to me, Simmons!"
"But you're the greatest thing that's ever happened to me," Einar replied softly, taken aback by the force of the outburst. "So, I'd rather die than put you at risk. Please, Moe, let me take care of you. I am so sorry for what I've done to you, I truly am."
Startled by the sudden movement and the suppressed yet intense, angry whisper, Miny stirred restlessly, letting out a cry, and Moe, suppressing the urge to cry out himself, swayed back and forth, calming him with a voice strained with anger that had not yet subsided under the weight of parental instinct.
"Hush, little one, Daddy won't do that again. Don't worry," Moe wiped his tear-stained face with his hand and adjusted the neckline of his nursing top, giving Miny access to the nipple, which swelled with a drop of milk. He stood still, gazing longingly at Miny's blond head, emitting a comforting rumble, wiping his eyes that refused to dry, feeling trapped with no option but to return. There's Daniel, there's an alternative to Einer.
"Please, let's go," Einer pleaded softly, his eyes reflecting the desperation of a beaten dog. "Moe, please."
Reluctantly, Moe turned towards the boarding stairs, his legs feeling drained from the stress-induced blood pressure drop. Exhaling sharply before taking the first step, he began to ascend, casting a grim stare at the steward, whose composure remained intact thanks to his professionalism.
In the cabin, he settled into the window seat, noticing the cradle positioned on the seat next to him, a considerate touch. Silently accepting the blanket from the steward, he realized only now that his heart was pounding nervously. Wrapping himself up, he left only Miny's head exposed for fresh air and hopelessly stared out the window, awaiting the plane's takeoff.
The bodyguards assumed their positions, while the stewards checked final details and sealed the airtight door. Moe flinched as the plane roared to life, beginning its smooth taxi across the airfield. Einer, seated at an angle, tapped nervously with his foot, avoiding eye contact to prevent provoking another outburst from Moe. He murmured something softly to the steward nearby, who nodded with a friendly smile. Gliding gracefully down the aisle, the steward disappeared behind a curtain and returned with drinks, placing them one by one on the table in front of Moe.
"May I offer you a drink, sir?" the steward politely asked.
Pointing to the table, he continued without waiting for a response, listing the available items, "Chamomile tea, lavender tea, lemonade, sparkling mineral water, still mineral water, whiskey," Moe mumbled, gradually coming to his senses and breathing more steadily. He enjoyed the human reaction that finally broke through the smooth facade - a momentary daze, and he chuckled. "Do you happen to have any Pu’erh?"
"Certainly," the steward replied with a light exhale, smiling deferentially and appreciating the joke. "Would you prefer green Pu’erh or black Pu’erh?"
"Black, but with milk and ginger," Moe requested, attuned to the needs of his exhausted body, drained from the strain of nervous tension, as Miny suckled vigorously.
"And something to eat. A sandwich or a canapé, something I can hold in my hand."
"Very well, sir," the steward took the tray and swiftly disappeared behind the curtain.
Moe shifted Miny, who had drained every last drop from his left nipple and was now fussing, to his right side. He gently stroked the tender cheek, which had reddened from being pressed against his chest, with a trembling finger. Inhaling the sweet, milky cinnamon scent with a hint of vitality, he whispered tenderly.
"My little darling, you've already made quite a mess in your diaper. But I'm sorry, you'll have to wait. We'll wait until we’ll climb to a higher altitude, then I'll change your diaper," he searched for his bag, and Einar unbuckled his seatbelt and sprang up, pulling the bag out from under the seat and putting it carefully in front of Moe.
"There's a bedroom here if you want to rest," Einar, sensing the tension had eased, spoke softly, meeting his gaze. Moe responded with reluctant silence, immediately turning away to the window - he didn't feel like engaging with the asshole.
Twenty minutes later, Miny, unable to tolerate the discomfort of a warm, wet diaper, furrowed his dark eyebrows together in anger, letting out pitiful cries and demands simultaneously. This tormented Moe, who struggled to sit up, and it seemed to affect Einar as well. He sat crumpled in his chair, gazing at the tiny blond head emitting plaintive cries, clearly eager to help but holding back. Finally, the belt sign flashed, prompting Moe to unbuckle the seatbelt and stand up to remove Miny from the sling.
"There's a bathroom in the bedroom," Einar also stood up, but kept his distance cautiously. "I'll show you and carry the bag myself."
"Stay put, one of your Teletubbies can help," Moe snapped angrily, and Einar reluctantly summoned one of the bodyguards, who stood about 6’7”.
The bodyguard obediently retrieved his bag, gestured politely to the opposite end of the aisle from where the steward was concealed behind a curtain, and accompanied Moe, who led the way. Moe glanced sternly at the bodyguards, who averted their gaze - their previous insolence towards him had vanished, now treating Moe with the deference usually reserved for royalty.
He opened the bathroom door and placed his bag on the floor, kneeling down to assist.
Moe, initially surprised, was starting to see the usefulness of the situation. Now that he didn’t have a helper, these pit bulls might finally prove to be useful.
"In the bag, there’s a pack of diapers, disposable changing pads, and a towel," Moe instructed as he placed Miny on the bed. Impatiently, he watched as the bodyguard cautiously searched through the contents, handing him the requested items one by one. Moe slid a diaper beneath the quiet Miny, removed his pants and old diaper, bundled it up, and carried him to be cleaned.
He carefully bathed him, gently patting his delicate skin dry with a towel, and then smiled at Miny, who gazed off into space behind him, contentedly smacking his lips. With just two steps, he returned to the bedroom, gently laying Miny back onto the changing pad and putting on a fresh diaper. Seating himself beside Miny, he glanced at the bed - it looked inviting after hours of anxiety and frantic packing.
"Thank you. Please inform the steward that I'll have my meal here," Moe said as he pulled the bag with his foot, extracting the pants and diaper from its depths. He put the pants on, planting a kiss on one tiny pink heel, and then, drawing Miny close, he settled against the headboard.
Einar arrived quicker than the steward, his expression still disappointed and subdued - evidently, he had hoped for long hours of being together and perhaps a conversation, but Moe harshly dashed those hopes. Silently, he placed the cradle on the bed, casting a wary glance at Moe, and carefully chose his words, "I was told at the clinic that you prefer to co-sleep. I instructed to buy bed railings. If it's alright with you, I'll set them up."
Moe wanted to decline, really, really wanted to—oh, desperately—but exhaustion washed over him heavily, rendering him immobile. With a nod, he shifted to the side of the bed against the wall, cradling Miny in his arms as the baby kicked his legs in the air. Einar awkwardly fidgeted, attempting to set up the railings, while the steward who had brought the food busied himself setting the table, the utensils clinking and clattering softly.
The steward, oblivious to Einar's desire to help, interjected cheerfully, prompting a mischievous smile from Moe, "Allow me to assist you, sir. I believe you're using the wrong side."
“Damn,” said Einar, realizing his helplessness, begrudgingly stepped aside at the bedside, yielding to the steward's assistance. Desperately seeking a reason to linger, he asked, "Moe, would you like to freshen up? I can hold Miny while you take a shower."
Moe turned slightly, casting a coldly arrogant glance at him, and hissed, "You're not getting anywhere near my son. Steward, you're trained to assist parents with young children, correct?"
"Yes, sir," the steward replied, his complexion paling as he glanced nervously at Einer, whose expression was as dark as night. "But I..."
"You can assist me if I need to freshen up. As for you, you can go," Moe swallowed the word "shit" - he shouldn't swear in front of a waking Miny, or so his subconscious reminded him. "Einer, I'd prefer to see you only upon arrival. I'll ask the steward for anything I need."
"Okay," Einer responded, casting one more longing glance at his feet before leaving the bedroom. Moe relaxed, picking Miny up in his arms and making his way over to the table.
The astute steward not only brought miniature sandwiches but also a tantalizing roast of meat, a pot of roasted vegetables in cream, spinach salad, diced cucumbers, and white radishes, and for dessert, a cherry pudding accompanied by a teapot of Pu-erh, which lifted Moe's spirits. Placing Miny in his cradle beside him, he indulged in the meal, emitting contented moans of pleasure.
He ate until he reached the point of being "hard to breathe, but happy at heart," his eyes drooping with drowsiness. Stripping down to his underwear, he nestled beside the awake Miny, propping him against the railing and covering them both with a blanket, struggling to keep his eyes open before finally succumbing to sleep, unaware of his drifting into slumber.
He awoke in a panic, springing up in bed and frantically patting it, fearing that Miny had been taken. Almost on the verge of howling, he was soothed by the gentle voice of the steward, who sat in the chair with Miny peacefully asleep in his arms, "He was fussing, sir, and you were sleeping so soundly that I took the liberty of rocking him. He needed a diaper change again, but I had already taken care of it."
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
"Give him back to me," Moe's voice came out harsher than intended out of fear, but as he received back the gently sleeping Miny, he quickly softened his tone, "Thank you. I'll handle it from here. Make sure no one else enters."
"Understood, sir," the steward nodded and exited the bedroom, leaving them in solitude.
Moe gazed at the dark, star-studded sky amidst the billowing white clouds and gently guided Miny to his nipple. Instantly, Miny drifted into a shallow slumber, his mouth latching onto the nipple without so much as a flutter of his eyelids. It was a testament to Miny's being the happiest child on earth when cradled in warm hands and nourished with comforting milk right on schedule. Moe's smile widened, feeling his heart swell with affection, despite the trials and tribulations, merging into a boundless sense of contentment, tinged with the aroma of cinnamon. Pressing his lips against Miny's warm, velvety head, that gave him strength, Moe surrendered to a tranquil sleep, assured even in the haze of drowsiness that they would overcome any challenge.
During the drive from the airport to his temporary residence, Moe battled desperate yawns, wiping away the tears that accompanied each one. The jet lag was starting to hit hard, his body still feeling cramped from the long flight, itching uncomfortably beneath the heavy fabric of his clothing. The scent of sweat lingered as he shifted in his seat, and his nipples throbbed with the release of milk triggered by Miny's relentless cries. Miny squinted his eyes, unleashing another fierce wail, and Moe helplessly stroked his belly in an attempt to soothe him.
"Oh, my darling, please don't cry. Your tummy must be hurting. I can't take you out of the car seat, it's not safe," Moe murmured, tapping his foot impatiently as he willed time to move faster, but it seemed to drag on at a frustratingly sluggish pace.
"Why don't you try feeding him while he's in the car seat?" Einar, seated across from them, remained composed despite Miny's cries. He unbuckled himself and approached them. "Here, watch. If you release the belt and lean over, you can reach his mouth," Einar demonstrated, his gaze fixed eagerly on Miny's distress. He pressed the side buttons to remove the canopy, and Moe, feeling flustered by Einar's proximity to his son, swatted his arm in annoyance that he hadn’t figured this out himself.
“Don't touch him!” Moe unbuckled himself hurriedly, pulled himself close, scooting up his milk-soaked top, and groaned contentedly as Miny sucked impatiently, sighing intermittently after a long cry. The rhythmic sucking and the subsequent quietness in the cabin provided a calming contrast after the prolonged crying session. Moe found solace in embracing the firm structure of the car seat, gazing contentedly forward, knowing he couldn't easily admire his son in that position.
After finishing feeding from one side, Miny spat out the nipple and grunted, signaling his demand for the other. Moe, feeling the stiffness in his back from the uncomfortable position, straightened up, rubbed his back, momentarily forgetting about his bare chest. He moved to the other side of the seat where Einer sat, his lips pressed together in irritation as Einer stared intently at his enlarged, scarlet nipples, the left one leaking milk and soaking the top.
“Get back to your seat!” Moe's voice was a low hiss, careful not to startle Miny, while Einer, regaining his composure, complied silently, moving to the window with an inscrutable expression.
The atmosphere grew even more tense- Moe, having allowed Miny to feed from the left side, now fixed his gaze on Einer, growing increasingly irritated. He refused to break eye contact, and it seemed Einer was relishing the confrontation. Moe had no intention of backing down, meeting his opponent's gaze with cold disdain.
Einer, still bearing the marks of the recent beating, his bruises displaying various shades of discoloration, appeared unfamiliar, a stark contrast to the confident businessman Moe once knew. He seemed more like a battered wreck than the self-assured man at the top of the food chain.
Even the gaze had shifted - once impenetrably stony, now alive with pleading, fixated on Moe as he clung to the car seat with his precious cargo, awaiting something.
"Are you done?" Moe whispered as Miny released his nipple with a groan. Reluctantly, Moe pulled his top back on, still hovering over the car seat, unwilling to expose any part of his bare torso, and leaned back.
"No, I can't get enough," Einar replied honestly, also in a whisper, offering a weak smile. "I wish I could have you this close to me every day."
“You won't,” Moe added a middle finger for emphasis. “You won't come into my space, but if you need to send a message, you can use your Teletubbies.”
“Not everything can be relayed through intermediaries, even trusted ones,” Einar sighed heavily. “Some plans will only be known to a select few, and we'll need to maintain close communication until... until the threat has passed.”
“Well, I guess I'm part of the inner circle now,” Moe grinned. “You didn't bother to ask if I wanted to be. Why do you keep prying into my life, Einar?! What do you want this time?”
“As I've said before,” Einar advanced, narrowing the gap between them and lowering his voice, his nostrils flaring. “I need you, Moe. I needed you before-“Einar paused, carefully selecting his words. “But back then, when we were living together, you didn't cooperate. You indirectly confirmed my suspicions, pushed me away...”
“Oh, so it's all on me!” Moe tightened his fists, striving to contain his rising anger. “Me, who wanted nothing more than casual sex with no strings attached, who just wanted peace of mind!”
“No, that's not what I mean,” Einar hurriedly interjected. “It's my fault, Moe, for not expressing my feelings openly, for fearing rejection, for pressuring you to be honest. Sometimes, I couldn't control myself because I was afraid you'd vanish, you know?”
“And that's why you framed me and left to die - a remarkably clever move! You're one twisted fuck, you know that? Twisted! And there's no emotion behind it, just a desire to manipulate the first person in your life who refuses to play by your rules!” Moe kicked him in the ankle with venom, and Einar gritted his teeth.
“I made a mistake, Moe. Please believe me, I didn't realize you were truly risking your life!” Einer spoke rapidly, inadvertently raising his voice, and Moe hissed angrily. Einer obediently lowered his voice. “Not a day goes by that I don't regret it, Moe! In the hospital, when I woke up after the fire, I simply wished to die, overcoming the weight of my desire just because I wanted to seek vengeance for you.”
“You don't have any Italian roots, do you? What's with this relentless vendetta? It's either one thing or the other with you. Ever since you were a kid, it's been all about payback- a toy is taken from you at the playground, you're ready to draw the family dagger. You're an asshole, Einar! I'm beyond fed up with you!” Moe slumped back wearily and reiterated, “I've had it with you! I don't want to see you, I don't want to hear you, and frankly, I wish you hadn't made it out of that fire, or the hospital afterward. Me and Miny wouldn't have to deal with all this now.”
“I understand,” Einar cracked his knuckles, his tone muffled and filled with despair. “If I were in your shoes, I'd wish for my own death too; I'm nothing but calamity for you. I should've let go of you from the start, kept things as we agreed- just my little brother's companion, no deeper connections. I would've stuck to that if you had reached out to me after the move, but you didn't, and I found myself intrigued by you. I wanted to see where things could go. I thought you were playing some sort of game, like many omegas who initially feign disinterest before trying to win me over. But you always threw me off balance, pushing me away while also drawing me closer. Each time, I found myself more drawn to you. I didn't think anything serious could happen between us because you were an outsider, a beta, not an omega - I felt safe, yet lost at the same time. I'm sorry for everything, Moe, especially for the kidnapping and the beating. I was incredibly angry with you. I acted foolishly out of jealousy when you hugged Manny goodbye and merely nodded at me. I thought I could scare you first and then save you—"
“A gallant knight in shining armor to win me over,” Moe scowled, gazing out the window with a begrudging smirk. "That silly fairy tale wouldn't sway me; I'd sooner throttle you right there. Your feelings and desires mean nothing to me, Einer. I understand you were drawn to me because I stood out from the handsome men who pursued you. It's no surprise you felt secure sleeping with me—what concern would you have for some unremarkable beta? Hoping for a serious relationship with the illustrious tycoon Simmons? Absurd. You concocted a narrative for yourself, believed in your fiction, and then casually, almost incidentally, disrupted my life. Yet, strangely, I'm grateful to you for it—I rid myself of past ghosts and fears, returned to a semblance of normalcy, and I wish the same for you. You can't vanquish all the world's woes."
“I have no taste for fixing all the world's problems, and as for my quest for retribution for my parents, I exorcised those ghosts in that inferno. The reckoning was harsh and scorching, and it was then that I recognized the loss of the most precious in my life in pursuit of the superficial. Now, I'm powerless to change anything—by abducting you, they've made it evident that they'll keep targeting me and my loved ones for the remainder of our days, until we are all dead. Thus, my actions are dictated by circumstance—I can't rest until I've disarmed my enemies. Sooner or later, they would have pursued you in Singapore independently of my involvement because you’ve surfaced in the system again. They would have probed Moe Hayes, gauging his potential threat, and quickly figured the connection between Moe Hayes and Moe Doe.
Moe recoiled in horror, clutching his arms tightly around himself, his shoulders trembling as he drew nearer to Miny's car seat, where the baby slept peacefully. Suddenly, the cool interior of the car felt as chilling as the hunting lodge, and his mind conjured images of ruthless assailants seizing Miny, the innocent little soul just beginning to experience life. He shuddered violently, and Einer, wordless, reached into the glove compartment, retrieving a blanket and handing it to Moe with care.
"I'll be direct. You deserve honesty, and I won't repeat past mistakes, Moe," Einer began solemnly. "Remember our phone conversation when I tried to convince you to testify? I was like a lifeless automaton then, devoid of joy and zest for life. But you, you spoke with the essence of my Moe, with your unique lively expressions, and you brought me back to life. I initially thought it was a futile search for a ghost, but gradually, I began to hope that you were alive. It wasn't until the last moment that I realized you were Moe Hayes. I ordered the exhumation of the charred remains."
Wrapped in the plaid, Moe scowled and narrowed his eyes with anger.
"There's no 'your Moe,' alright? Never existed, and never will. I regret hiding under a false identity, following Daniel's advice - then our paths wouldn't have crossed. You sound like you're expecting something - wake up, Simmons! Look at me - all I feel towards you is hatred and repulsion. You disgust me to the core."
Einar listened in silence, wincing with each word, pressing his battered lips so tightly that they began to bleed. Then, in a muffled voice, he spoke up, lifting his determined gaze to Moe, "You can say whatever you want, I deserve it. But there's something more than an unspoken bond tying us together now- our son."
"He’s not yours," Moe exclaimed, his voice suddenly hoarse, as he cleared his throat and repeated, "Not your son! I didn't just fuck you; I dated Daniel when I was in town and escaped your Teletubbies." Daniel's name slipped out quickly, and Moe winced internally, imagining Daniel's reaction to the lie.
"Daniel Smith, the agent who cleaned up your mess?" Einar clarified, his voice strained, his complexion pale even beneath the bruises.
"Yeah, why do you think he was so committed?" Moe mentally apologized to Daniel, while also feeling relieved that Daniel and Einer shared the same light blond hair, with plenty of silver strands mixed in.
"That's how it was," Einar said, his bleeding lips parting, forming a sinister smile. "It sounds logical, yes, but—" He took a step forward. "I don't believe you! Don't try to make me dislike you; it won’t work. I'm willing to forgive you for everything, even betrayal—my guilt towards you is far greater. And a simple DNA test will clarify everything."
Moe, without a word, suddenly straightened up, launching himself from the seat towards Einar, aiming a direct blow at his face. Einar, surprisingly agile given the confined space and his injuries, evaded the attack, seized Moe's wrists, swiftly flipped him onto his stomach, and pinned him down. Their struggle unfolded in a matter of moments- one instant Moe was launching himself like Captain America, the next he was pinned against the seat, desperately flailing and attempting to strike Einar in the face with the back of his head.
"Shh, Moe, shh," Einar whispered loudly into my ear. "I'm not going to take Miny away from you, please don't see me as a monster. I'm happy that you're alive, that you— we— have a child. Let me be happy, please."
"Let go," Moe gasped, squirming unsuccessfully.
"Just a moment... now," Einer breathed, trailing his nose along Moe's neck, causing a multitude of goosebumps to erupt, his breath hot and rapid. "God, Moe, you smell amazing!" With evident difficulty, he released Moe's wrists, kissed one briefly, helped him up, and settled down beside him, gazing at him with unabashed delight.
Moe indulged in a moment of satisfaction, delivering a solid punch to Einar's solar plexus. After taking a deep breath and reminding himself to calm down, he settled back, gripping the car sea tightly with white-knuckled fingers, and stated the obvious, "Well, looks like my senses are coming back," Moe wiped sweat from his forehead, panting. "You're not going to demand a DNA test, claim paternity, or interfere in his life, Simmons. Otherwise, trust me, I'll find a way to ensure Miny remains truly fatherless, and I have a whole narrative about a heroic father, so I won't let it be tarnished."
"I don't want to fight with you, Moe," Einar replied tersely, regaining his composure. "Let's discuss it when you've calmed down. Perhaps not immediately, but eventually, you'll realize that I'm being transparent with you and playing fair."
“So, are you agreeing to my conditions?” Moe continued to grip the seat tightly, wishing he could escape to the ends of the earth with Miny.
"I propose we postpone this discussion for later," Einar replied evasively. "We're arriving at your new home, Moe. I hope you find it more appealing than my mansion."
Moe stamped his foot irritably, turned sharply, and glanced disinterestedly at the charming modern two-story house surrounded by a vibrant garden of autumnal purple and yellow hues, dryly reminding him, “You will not live here.”