“And you must be Oliver,” Lucas’ pai said, with a wide smile that lit up his face. He pulled Oliver into an embrace, who awkwardly held his arms out to the side as though he might break him.
“Davi!” Lucas’ other father said, gently tugging him away. “He might not like that.”
“Psh, don’t mind Colin. He’s just uptight and British,” Davi said, in a melodic Portuguese accent. “No offence.”
Colin, in return, leant forward and shook Oliver’s hand. “Nice to meet you,” he said. “I’m Dad.”
“Nice to meet you,” Oliver replied, summoning all the confidence he could muster.
Oliver’s nerves almost got the better of him as they were led inside, but he had to agree that the house was homely, in an immaculate—clearly has a full time cleaner—kind of way. Bright floral prints covered the walls, seconded only by the sheer number of photographs covering almost every square inch. AsOliver walked past, he clocked one in a wooden frame with what appeared to be Lucas and Aliya as teenagers. Lucas was holding up a medal, whilst Aliya gave the thumbs up. Both were—to Oliver’s utter surprise—very skinny youths.
“Oliver! Luca!” Davi called, drawing them both towards the kitchen. And Oliver quite liked the way Davi pronounced his name. Like Olivaaa.
The scent of home cooking wafted through the hallway, something rich and meaty that made his mouth water. When they stepped into the room, Oliver’s jaw dropped. The kitchen was unlike anything he’d ever seen. Old Victorian cabinets, original stone tiles and solid oak worktops somehow blended seamlessly with the modern appliances. Some kind of fresco containing pink cheeked cherubs and white winged angels was sprawled across the high ceiling, with a swirling plaster rosette around a gold chandelier. It looked like the inside of a rather eccentric Victorian mansion.
Davi must have seen him looking, because he chuckled and wiggled his eyebrows at Colin. “My beloved painted this whole house,” he said, chin tipped up in a prideful expression.
“It’s amazing,” Oliver said, genuinely in awe at the artistry.
“Ah, my thanks,” Colin said, stepping in from the doorway to wrap an arm around Davi’s waist. “Lucas tells us you are… also… a detective?”
He gave a small nod. “Y-Yes. Child protection.”
Davi let out a contemplative hum. “It is very admirable. You must see some terrible things.”
Oliver sucked his bottom lip. “Yes.”
Awkward silence hung over the four of them, before Davi turned to Colin and slapped the back of his hand.
“I told you not to bring up their work!”
Lucas chuckled, bringing his fingers up to caress the back of Oliver’s neck. “Pai, why don’t you show Oliver the bar whilst I help dad chop the last of the wood.”
Colin clapped, releasing Davi’s waist. “Ah! An excellent idea, son. The store has become terribly depleted in your absence.”
And just like that, Oliver was being led towards a hut at the bottom of the garden by a Brazilian man in a flowery sweatshirt. He had to dip his head as he entered the hut, the doorway clearly having been designed for two much shorter people.
‘The bar’ was more like a large shed with a long mahogany plank running from end to end. There was a heavy curtain covering the back wall, which he assumed hid all the booze. If Oliver squinted, he could have almost convinced himself he was sitting inside a beach hut in Malaga. Davi dragged two stools—which were actually upturned barrels—from under the bar, and gestured for Oliver to sit.
“What would you like to drink, Oliver?”
Oliver glanced down at his hands. “O-Oh, water’s fine, thank you.”
Davi let out a laugh. “Oh no, filho. I mean, what would you like todrink?”
With a small flourish, the omega yanked a drawstring, pulling back the curtains to reveal a truly astounding sight. Bottles upon bottles of different alcohol were stacked behind the home-made bar, the majority of the brands Oliver had never heard of. He gawped before glancing at his watch. Half past ten in the morning. If he could get behind anything, it was daytime drinking so, tapping his chin, he said, “W-Well, if you insist. Could I have… a lemon sherbet gin and tonic, please?”
Davi grinned. “And for dessert?”
Oliver licked his lip, getting the impression that day-drinking was serious business in the White household. “Um, a strawberry daiquiri, please.”
Davi squealed with delight, the deep wrinkles around his mouth disappearing as he looked momentarily young again. “And I’ll have a caipirinha with tequila for dessert,” Davi replied. “Cheers!”
Three hours later,all four of them were hunched over the mahogany bar. Davi was chatting enthusiastically about their life in Brazil, and about when Lucas and Aliya were born, nobody in the family could quite believe they had produced not just one, buttwo, alphas through IVF. Both of whom had grown up to be literal giants.
“I was the size of a house!” Davi proudly proclaimed as he poured Oliver another drink. “This one was sick of my whining by the end,” he said, jerking a thumb towards Colin, who was slumped over in his seat.
By the time three o’clock rolled around, Colin was completely sozzled, Davi was cheerfully tipsy, Lucas the same as always, and Oliver felt horribly,horriblyunwell. He’d finished the gin and tonic with no issue, but after eating a small portion of farofa, he simply couldn’t face the strawberry daiquiri.
