Alex was nervous. No, scratch that, he was terrified. his breath was coming out in short gasps, his head was spinning, his chest felt as if there were rocks rattling between his ribs. He was all around not having a good time. Somehow -he still didn't understand entirely why or how- he found himself standing before Washington's front door. It hadn't even opened yet, but his imagination could supply at least a thousand possible outcomes for when it finally did. Philip beside him was blissfully unaware of his panic, and gleefully pointed to figures in the clouds above them. Thank god it wasn't raining at least, he thought when the sun peeked out from behind one of said clouds, illuminating the porch with bright yellow light. His heart was beating so fast it felt like it would beat right out of his chest.

It had been at least two full minutes since Alex had knocked on the door, and no one had answered yet. His hands were shaking too much to knock again, slowly he turned to Philip. Hands and voice shaking, he reached for his son's shoulder.

"Philip dear, could you..?" His voice trailed off and he wrung his hands together, gesturing to the still closed door with a nod of his head.

The boy nodded back eagerly and rapped on the wood with his knuckles. He rocked on the balls of his feet for a few seconds before he was knocked back by the door finally opening. Alex, hand still on his son's shoulder, pulled him towards himself with a start. The man in the doorway looked big and threatening, yet his eyes were soft and gentle. He looked at the both of them with concern. Alex realised he must look like death run over, and he could feel how the panic had warped his expression. He consciously tried to straighten out his face.

"Hello, and who might you be? And what are..- Oh" Washington made direct eye contact with him, and Alex felt as if his entire body flipped itself inside out. There was recognition in his eyes as he opened the door fully and reached out to Alex, who stepped back, pulling Philip along with him. Washington started to apologise, a hint of panic seeped into his voice. He stepped aside and held out his arm, motioning for Alex and Philip to enter.

Washington asked for a maid to bring some tea as they settled in the living room. Alex was practically bursting with nerves at this point, and Washington wasn't doing much better. He cleared his throat, coughed a few times, tried to start a sentence or two. Finally, he sighed loudly and looked Alex in the eye again. He shrank under the man's harsh gaze.

"Alexander, I didn't want this to happen to you. I didn't know." He gestured to Philip, who was playing with the tea cosy. "I was...", hesitation crept into his voice, and he breathed deeply to try and maintain his composure, "I wasn't there for you, and I should have been. I was drunk and scared and I marked you without you even knowing. It was wrong of me. And then I left you, I hardly even remembered you for so long! And now you're here, you came all this way to find me, and I haven't even apologised yet." Washington ran a hand over his head. He kneeled down on the floor and after carefully checking Alex's face, he took one of his hands. "I'm sorry Alexander."

And his eyes were so sad, his voice so laced with regret, and his hand so comfortable and warm in his, that Alex broke down and cried. He cried and cried for what felt like hours, clutching tightly to Washington, who'd come to sit next to him on the sofa. All his worries and curses and the terrible ache in his stomach he cried away. Through it, Washington held on tight to him, tears trickling down his cheeks as well. The two men don't know how long they sat like that, but when both of them became aware of their surroundings, Philip was nowhere to be seen and the maid stood sheepishly at the door.

"I've put the little boy to bed sir.", she told them upon questioning, "He could barely stand upright, and the guest room has been empty for ages, I figured you wouldn't mind." The last part of her explanation she aimed at Alex, who carefully shook his head.

She nodded and walked off, leaving the two men alone once again. Alex turned to look at Washington, suddenly noticing the bite mark in his neck hadn't been burning in a while.

"You can stay here if you want." The older man's voice was smooth as if it was lined with honey. "We've got plenty of space, and I owe it to you."

"This doesn't mean I forgive you yet.", Alex croaked out, his voice breaking on the last word. "I need some more time for that."

"I get it, of course, take all the time you need Alexander."

Alex closed his eyes and lay his head on Washington's chest. He was still mad, he figured that wouldn't leave quite so soon. But something else had settled in his stomach. The desperate longing had moved away and made room for something softer, calmer, though he couldn't quite identify it. As he slowly felt himself drift away, listening to his Alpha's heartbeat, with his son sleeping in a quiet room upstairs and the scent of tea still in the air, the word popped into his mind.

A sense of belonging.