The package arrived two days later. The box was plain brown, the contents nestled inside a nondescript bubble mailer. Leon retrieved it with trembling hands, glancing around the mailroom to ensure no one saw him. Back in the safety of his apartment bathroom, he locked the door.
He didn't take the test himself. He waited. He needed to find a way to get one to Harry or force the issue. The tests sat on the counter, a silent accusation.
A few days later, he saw Harry again, looking even worse than before. He was pale and drawn and seemed more subdued than usual, his Alpha bravado momentarily deflated. The signs were undeniable now. Harry was experiencing morning sickness. Harry was late in his cycle. Harry was pregnant. The protagonist, the enigma, the quiet guy who just wanted to live his life under the radar, was about to destroy the life of the jock Alpha he slept with.
He had to do something. He had to face him. He had to figure out a way to make Harry take those tests without revealing his own fears, without forcing the truth on a man who clearly wasn't ready to face the physical changes in his own body. He leaned his head against the cold tile of the bathroom wall, a silent tear sliding down his cheek. His life, as he knew it, was over. He was utterly, terrifyingly alone in this knowledge, and he had to be the one to break the news to the person who would probably punch him in the face.