(BL)Alpha Made Chapter 28: is this a tv drama?

Maxwell had his assistant, Mr. Newman, head over to his apartnt to grab a few of Andrew’s things so he wasn’t basically naked in front of the security guards Maxwell’s parents had provided. Andrew knew that Maxwell was worried about his safety, but after how he felt today, he though he could have gone on his own. Maxwell had said no, and made sure Mr. Newman had gone. Andrew thought it was an extre touch, but Maxwell wouldn’t budge. The man was taking his safety seriously.

Maxwell did have to leave shortly after, and he wasn’t sure when he would get back. He had a lot he had to get done today so that he could work from ho. Andrew had to comfort him and tell him several tis that he was going to manage on his own. It was almost as if Maxwell was worried Andrew wouldn’t be here when he got back.

Andrew thought that was silly. Where else could he go? Where else would he go?

Thankfully, because of the rut suppressants that were still in his system, he felt relatively normal. Every once in a while a scent would catch him off guard, or he would hear a conversation that he knew he shouldn’t have been able to, but he would save his concerns for Michael, not Maxwell.

At least, not now. The man was already having issues leaving him alone in a heavily guarded house, he wasn’t going to be any better if he found out that Andrew felt like a freak from things Maxwell himself was probably used to.

But, eventually, after Andrew was dressed, and had his proper prescription glasses on, and Maxwell had fussed over him for another half an hour, he left with Mr. Newman. Andrew felt like he was a puppy being left at ho alone for the first ti, but didn’t say that to Maxwell. He’d probably get upset.

He also had his phone back, since Maxwell had picked it up after he went looking for him from the cafe. So, taking a mont for himself, he was scrolling through his phone to see who had reached out to him.

A few people had. The cafe girls had, along with his old boss. There were a few of his coworkers who had as well, but Andrew didn’t read any of them. He was just actively disgusted by the chain of texts that Tracey had sent to "cover her tracks". It was disgusting to stare at them because he knew what she had been doing at the ti. What an awful, horrible lying person.

Frustrated, and unable to leave the house, Andrew took up the only comfort he knew, and that he knew wouldn’t bother anyone. He went to the kitchen.

-

The several loud knocks on the front door surprised Andrew, who was in the middle of making a large batch of chocolate chip cookies.

He had been surprised at how stocked Maxwell’s kitchen had been, considering he’d never seen Maxwell actually cooking. It would be nice if the two of them could cook together.

Andrew could imagine it in his mind. The two of them, side by side in the giant kitchen, Andrew leaning over to wipe so flour off of Maxwell’s cheek, and watching those cute little ears turn pink in embarrassnt. Maybe Andrew would get sothing on his face so that Maxwell could wipe it away too. Maybe so dough, so Maxwell could lick his finger after.

Another series of loud knocks. Andrew put down the bowl and rushed for the door. He’d forgotten about it in his own delusion. It was probably Michael, and he didn’t want to leave him waiting.

Rushing for the door, Andrew yanked it open without checking the peephole. The reason being? He now had security. They were not going to let soone through who could endanger him. Maxwell’s orders.

He was surprised when he didn’t find Michael on the other side. Instead, he found a tall, broad shouldered man with piercing grey eyes, black, short hair slowly peppered with white, and a rather stern, but handso face. He wore a full suit, and Andrew could feel him looking over him curiously. Andrew swallowed.

"Oh, good morning Mr. Beckett. Co on in." Andrew stepped back and to the side, letting the man that had to be Maxwell’s father in. They had to be related. Maxwell got the sa expression on his face when he was dealing with sothing uncomfortable. He’d seen it a lot when he’d been his bodyguard.

"So you know who I am?" His voice was smooth, commanding, and if Andrew had been a lesser man, he would have been intimidated by the coldness expressed there. However, he’d known Maxwell for close to 8 months now, so that tone didn’t get to him anymore. Andrew chuckled.

"Well, no, but you and Max-well are cut from the sa cloth. It was easy to tell." Andrew caught himself in ti. He had a feeling that this man, this Father, would not take kindly to the random man in his son’s house calling him by a nickna. Andrew smiled. The older man sniffed, and Andrew had to hold himself together as he noticed the older man’s ears had gone pink.

"Of course anyone could tell we were related. Maxwell has my face." Andrew nodded in agreent. While Maxwell’s face was softer, they were quite similar.

"I take it he has his Mother’s eyes?" Andrew asked, and Mr. Beckett nodded. Andrew grinned. "Then his Mother must be quite the beauty as well. I hope I’ll be able to et her soday." Mr. Beckett, who had slowly been relaxing, stiffened.

"Why would you want to et my wife? How long do you plan to stay in my son’s life?" Andrew tensed. So this was what this was about. Maxwell must have told his Father about Andrew being here, and his Father was coming over to assess and scare Andrew away if necessary.

"Uh, as long as Maxwell wants here?" Andrew offered hesitantly, feeling awkward. He already felt like he shouldn’t be here, but this truly made him feel worse. He didn’t want to be causing a rift in between family mbers. It was clear that Mr. Beckett had co over without Maxwell’s knowledge, otherwise he would have said sothing to him about it.

"I don’t believe that. You’re here to take advantage of my son, aren’t you?" Stunned, Andrew stared at Mr. Beckett’s angry gaze. Sothing clicked, and Andrew felt himself begin to laugh. He slouched over, unable to stop his laughter even as it was clear it upset Maxwell’s Father.

Maxwell had overprotective family mbers. They were clearly worried about him, but he’d moved away, out from under their clutches, and now he’d asked for help with so rando living in his house. Andrew was now dealing with the first confrontation as the "strange man" living with his son. He felt like he was on one of those sitcoms his Mom used to love to watch.

"What’s so funny?" Mr. Beckett demanded, and it almost sent Andrew into another round of laughter. Andrew had barely pulled himself together when the tir went off for the batch of cookies he had in the oven.

"Oh, one sec!" Andrew rushed off towards the kitchen, knowing that Mr. Beckett was probably angry with him and would follow him. Andrew quickly took the tray he’d had in the oven out before putting the tray he’d set up in. Mr. Beckett seed stunned at the little production line he had going on in the kitchen.

Andrew had been cooking.

He had several batches of cookies done already, and had several more set up. Along with a plan to make muffins and so scones. He just was getting busy with his hands.

"Did you...do all of this?" Mr. Beckett asked, and Andrew nodded.

"You’re more than welco to have so. I promise it isn’t poisoned." Andrew told him with a smile, before laughing. "I don’t have access to any, anyways." He joked, and watched as the older man’s jaw tightened before he reached for a cookie on a cooling tray and took a bite.

Andrew watched as a series of emotions passed over his face. Andrew didn’t pay much mind to them, waiting for the verdict. He felt like he was in a confrontation with his Mother-in-law. He’d only seen a few of the shows since they were all his mom could watch as she was in the hospital, but this felt like that mont.

"This is...good." Andrew grinned.

"Thank you! I’m glad you like it." Andrew felt like this was a small victory, especially when Mr. Beckett pulled over a chair and sat down, nodding that Andrew could continue moving around the kitchen. He didn’t ask anymore questions, but Andrew could feel him watching him. It was clear he had many, so Andrew didn’t know why he was holding his tongue.

Another series of knocks on the front door, and Andrew glanced at Mr. Beckett, who was frowning.

"Is that a surprise from you?" Andrew asked, and he shook his head. Smiling, Andrew headed for the door, tossing it open again and was greeted by Michael, who gave the other man a hug upon sight.

"Thank the gods, man. You look much better today. Good news, got all your labs back. I’ve already sent them off to Mr. Beckett, so we can go over them on our own. I also brought you so more information on true alphas, and-" Michael, who had been following Andrew as he led him to the kitchen, paused. His hand had been deep into the side pouch he had, but he froze at the sight before him.

The big Mr. Beckett sitting in a soft, dining room chair watching Andrew as he cooked.

"Mr. Beckett? W-What are you doing here?" He asked, and both glanced at Andrew. Andrew smiled.

"Why, he’s here to help eat all the baked goods I’m making. Neither one of you is leaving here empty handed. Maxwell would kill if I let that happen."