Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

With four whole wolves, the Chiefs somehow managed to have the most in the league, with almost every other team having just one or two, and a handful still having none at all. Having a wolf was a great asset if you could get them to bond with your team, but they were a huge risk if they didn't. 

Patrick had been drafted to replace the wolf the Chiefs had before him, and Harrison was a desperation signing. Thankfully, the two had gotten along well and had pack bonded with each other and the team.

L’Jarius was their next wolf drafted, and then the next year Willie Gay JR had joined the little pack they were forming. 

Then the NFL informed the Chiefs that it was time to pair off Mahomes. Pairs were the sports world’s way of trying to get more wolf athletes. You have two professional athletes pair off, produce some pretty pups who are more likely to pack bond with a team, and the future of a country’s professional sports looks a lot brighter. Mahomes had been the result of an organized pair bond between two athletes, his father, Patrick Mahomes the first, and a professional swimmer. 

The relationship between Pat Mahomes and his pair was an example of how most pairs go: you produce a pup or two as required, then split up and find a mate of your own. Patrick was the only pup from his dad and biological mother, but he had two half-siblings who he was close with. And now he was facing the possibility of a pair of his own.

Which was how he ended up curled in a comfortable chair in an office, listening to executives scream at each other about the situation. Andy reached out with a hand, and when Patrick didn’t shy away, scraped his fingers through Patrick’s curls soothingly. A pleased rumble pulled itself from Patrick’s throat, and he tilted his head to rub his cheek against Andy’s hand and wrist, scenting him gently. Andy was a familiar, grounding presence at all times as Patrick navigated the NFL. He could always settle his wolf with just a few words.

“I don’t give a damn what the NFL says! Roger Goodell himself could show up in this building to tell us we have to pair him off, and I would tell him to fuck off!” Patrick cringed at Brett Veach’s yelling, pulling back and curling deeper into the chair Eric Bieniemy had dumped him in. 

Bieniemy was nodding along to Veach’s words. “Tell them no. I’m not wasting a goddamn year and a half of the best quarterback in this fucking league’s prime to pair him off with whatever wolf they pick so he can have a pretty baby! Fuck that!”

Mike Donovan was one of the only people in the room still sitting. The team president leaned forward against the table, rubbing circles against his temples. “We don’t have a choice. We knew that this would happen when we drafted a wolf with submissive markers. The fact that he’s so good makes him even more appealing.”

Veach waved his hands around wildly. “Can’t we just Green Bay him?” He asked, referencing how Green Bay had just straight-up refused to pair off Rodgers, viciously rejecting every possible wolf proposed.

Mike inhaled. “Green Bay gets fined a lot of money every year for not pairing Rodgers off. I don't know why they won't, Rodgers won't be the athlete out for a year.”

“Mahomes will be! I’ll pay the goddamn fine money out of pocket!” Veach yelled.

Clark Hunt, who had been sitting silently, watching his executives and coaches fight, stood up. The entire room went silent. 

“Coach Bieniemy, Coach Reid, can you walk Mahomes to the locker room?” He said calmly. “You two are welcome back to finish this conversation, but I believe Patrick is missing practice.” 

Patrick straightened up in his chair, relieved. Listening to people decide about what to do with your future and your body has always been a little disorienting for him, even if he's heard it all before. Andy tugged him gently to his feet and started herding him out of the room, Bieniemy following. As the door swung shut behind him, he could hear the fight starting up again. 

“Sorry about that, Patrick,” Andy said lightly. Patrick could tell it was forced. There was certainly going to be some tension around the organization for a few days. Patrick just shrugged in response, turning around a corner of the training facility and heading into the locker room. 

The room went quiet, everyone was curious as to why Mahomes had been pulled into a meeting with the execs. As Patrick headed silently toward his locker, he saw Harrison tense at his stressed scent. 

“Alright, everyone! Spags will be running practice today while Coach Bieniemy and I sort some things out,” Andy clasped his hands together, and without stopping for questions, turned and headed back out of the room and towards the offices.

Every gaze swung toward Patrick the moment the door shut.

“Bro, what happened in there?” Travis asked, looking slightly concerned. 

Patrick snorted, a harsh laugh scraping through his throat. “The league wants to pair me off,” He said flatly as he dug through his locker for a shirt. He saw Creed flinch out of the corner of his eye and he sighed, preparing himself for a barrage of questions. 

Harrison stood up and moved to his side, baring his teeth at Shane to get him to move out of his way. The young quarterback listened. The wolves on this team might like them, but it was different when it came to their wolf pack. Harrison would maul him if he needed to. 

Patrick sighed and turned to Harrison, who slowly leaned forward and pressed their cheeks together. When Patrick didn't pull away, he let out a pleased rumble and scented him gently. Patrick relaxed, the tension rushing out of his shoulders. Harrison stepped back and grinned.

“I told you, you should’ve found a mate sooner,” He teased. Patrick huffed out a laugh. 

“Not all of us are as lucky as you.” He dropped into a chair.

David Toub walked in, clearly catching the last part of the conversation. “Don’t get smart, Harrison, we’ve had offers,” The special team's coordinator said, reaching out and rubbing his wrist against the back of Harrison’s neck. The kicker whipped around, eyes widening. 

“You’ve had what !?” He yelped, voice hilariously high. Everyone laughed at his expression.

“Don’t worry, we have made it clear we aren't interested… So far,” Toub said. “Now, I'm running practice today, so all y’all better get out onto the field in five minutes.” He pressed his hand against the back of Harrison’s neck once again before walking out of the locker room.

Chaos reigned as everyone scrambled to get ready. Patrick slowly rose to his feet and started changing. Harrison stayed close, tying his cleats as Patrick pulled on his shoulder pads and yellow no-contact jersey. He turned around when L’Jarius’s scent became stronger, tilting his head curiously at the young wolf. L’Jarius’s scent projected concern, protect, help, and Patrick trilled at him to let him know he was okay. L’Jarius let out a protective rumble, crowding closer to scent his quarterback.

“It always throws me off when y’all do that silent communication shit.” Patrick laughed at Chris’s words, pressing his cheek firmly against L’Jarius’s before playfully shoving him away.

Travis laughed. “I’m kinda jealous of it,” The tight end admitted. “Like, imagine if we all could sense what they sense, we’d be the most in-tune team ever.” Nick leaped at him playfully, and Travis pulled the young wolf into a headlock.

“Ayyy!” Orlando yelled for attention. “Take it to the field before we get yelled at! Y’all can wrestle out there!”

“Oh, shit-” There was a mad dash for the field, everyone try not to get cussed out by their assistant head coach. 

Patrick shoved his worries into the back of his head as he jogged over to where Nagy was waiting for the offense. He could be concerned about pairing later.

------

Patrick’s pack all ended up at his house, sprawled across his living room. Isabelle even came over, leaving the kids with a babysitter. She greeted Patrick with a purr and a big hug, leaning up to murmur in his ear. “Are you doing okay?” She whispered. Patrick nodded, forcing a smile. He was touched by his pack’s concern. Isabelle nodded and went to greet L’Jarius and Nick.

Patrick dropped into his armchair and buries his face into the soft fabric. “Perhaps I wouldn’t mind a pair,” He mused aloud. “At least a kid would be nice, fill up this big empty house a little.” L’Jarius wrinkled his nose.

“You have the dogs,” L’Jarius pointed out. “Which you had to fight for because they didn’t think you’d provide adequate care, but still.”

“Because we’re wolves,” Harrison sighed. Every murmured at the mention of how little people trusted wolves. In some countries, werewolves had the same rights as dogs. Patrick shuddered at the memories of the Mexico game where they hadn’t been allowed to stay in the team hotel and instead had been locked in what was basically a giant crate when one of their teammates or coaches wasn’t with them. Because of that, the team ended up spending a lot of time outside while in Mexico, where Patrick and Harrison could sprawl out and relax a little.

“Remember the Mexico game?” He asked Harrison. Isabelle winced as Harrison groaned.

“My God, don’t remind me. Kamara said that London is worse for wolves.”

Nick bared his teeth. “Fuck England.”

“Fuck England,” Everyone else in the room chorused.

Patrick snorted. “I can’t believe America is one of the best countries for wolves and yet people still can decide so many aspects of our lives.”

“We can’t get married without approval, we can’t buy a house, we can’t open a bank account,” L’Jarius listed off as he curled into Nick’s side. Harrison dug his fingers into the linebacker’s hair, and Patrick suddenly wanted to move to the couch to sit with him. He felt slightly needy but shrugged it off. His entire life might be about to change, he was allowed to want comfort. 

Isabelle laughed as he sat down next to her. L’Jarius leaned back against his legs, letting out a pleased rumble from his spot next to Nick on the floor.

“Pack cuddles?” Harrison murmured from where his face was pressed against his mate’s shoulder.

“Pack cuddles,” Patrick agreed, sharing a grin with Isabelle before leaning against her side.

Chapter Text

A week and a half later, Patrick was called into another meeting.

He shifted uncomfortably in his chair as everyone waited for Mike Donovan and Brett Veach to arrive. It was awkwardly quiet, nothing like the chaos that had greeted him at the last meeting. A foreboding sensation filled his chest and he couldn’t hold back the whimper that slipped through his lips. Nagy shushed him, digging his fingers into the sides of Patrick’s neck. The almost-scruffing settled him slightly, but he still felt antsy. Something was wrong, he could smell the apprehension in the air. He huffed, leaning back into Matt’s grip. He missed his coaches exchanging a glance over his head.

Mike and Brett walked in, the former talking in a hushed tone on the phone before hanging up. “Is everyone here?” Mike asked, sitting down. “Good.”

Brett sighed. “I’m just going to be blunt. Patrick, we have agreed with the NFL to pair you off. Over the next span of weeks, teams will offer other eligible wolves as a possible pair. The franchise has veto power, but we’ll give you a say in it of course. However, by the end of the offseason. With the playoffs approaching-.”

Patrick stared, mouth going dry. He barely heard anything past “we have agreed with the NFL”. Andy tapped him twice on the shoulder to get him to focus again.

“Do you understand, Patrick?” Hunt asked gently, gaining his attention. Patrick nodded numbly, blinking as Donovan slid a stack of papers toward him.

“I need you to sign these papers where it’s marked to.” He murmured. Patrick nodded and obediently took the pen offered to him and started signing. The people around him started murmuring and Patrick blocked them out. Andy would tell him if he needed to do something. 

He heard the door open and shut and moments later, Harrison came bursting in. He snarled when someone tried to stop him (one of the athletic trainers, Patrick thinks) and everyone backed off quickly, trying to please the agitated wolf. Andy gave Harrison a sharp word before letting the kicker drape himself protectively at Patrick’s back.

“How do you feel?” Harrison murmured. His scent sang protect, protect, protect. Patrick hummed noncommittally in response, but it didn't matter. Harrison could smell the apprehension and fear on him. Patrick tilted his head back to nose at Harrison’s jaw before going back to signing. His packmate let out a soothing rumble before whipping around and baring his teeth at an approaching Mike Donovan.

“Harrison!” Andy barked. He sighed and turned to look at Donovan. “Sorry, they’re not usually so antsy. I managed to keep L’Jarius and Nick out but I'm sure they’re outside the door.” A loud whine answered that question, and everybody laughed, relieving the tension. Mike swung open the door and two fury bodies barreled into the room to Patrick’s side, pressing against his legs. Patrick huffed and handed Brett the stack of papers, now signed. 

“Thank you, Patrick. You may go now, we’ll discuss more later,” Clark said calmly. Patrick shot to his feet, relieved, and practically bolted out of the room, his packmates quickly following. He barely made it into the bathroom before puking up his breakfast into the nearest trash can. Nick whimpered.

“Are you okay?” Harrison asked once Patrick finished. Patrick turned and looked at his kicker, whose eyes were concerned. He huffed out a laugh.

“Not yet, but I will be,” He responded, starting to strip out of his clothing.

The two undressed silently, dumping their clothes into the duffle bag Nick and L’Jarius had put their clothes in, and shifted. Their little pack was stunning when all together. Nick was all dark fur with a bit of grey ticking. Harrison was all long tawny fur with white markings. L’Jarius was grey with white feet and a dark chest and muzzle. Isabelle had light brown fur, close to matching her husband. And Patrick was a red wolf. His fur was almost completely red, with a little white and tawny mixed in.

L’Jarius yipped once they were all shifted. Patrick huffed and started leading the way out of the bathroom and towards the field. The moment they were out, all limits were off, and Harrison leaped at Patrick. Patrick yelped, rolling with him before hopping away and dropping into a play bow.

Travis, who had spotted the wolves, called out to gather everyone's attention and started making his way over. Spags, who was closest, beat everyone to them. Nick pressed against his legs.

“Rough news with the pairing?” The defensive coordinator asked toward Patrick, who had L’Jarius by the scruff and was dragging him in a circle. Patrick dropped the cornerback, who yelped, and huffed in response.

“Ah man, that sucks,” Travis was finally over. The tight end dropped to the ground and let Harrison clamber all over him. 

Orlando skidded to a stop next to him, panting slightly. “The fuck? Do you speak wolf now or some shit?” He asked, incredulous. Travis laughed.

“Bro, if you look at Patrick’s face you can tell he’s disgruntled. Bro is pissed.” Patrick growled at him and Travis didn’t even flinch. “Pat, you can’t scare me with that anymore,” He told his quarterback, who mouthed at one of his hands.

Harrison, who had gotten bored of Travis, was taunting Nick, who bowled him over. The two crashed into L’Jarius, who snarled. Harrison paused, sneezed, and went back to nipping at Nick’s paws. L’Jarius hopped up and joined in, leaping at Harrison and freeing his fellow defensive player.

“Who do you think they’re gonna pair with him?” Pacheco mused. Mecole shrugged, reaching down and patting Patrick on the side.

“Maybe Rodgers?” Chris joked. Patrick growled at him. “Wow, you are moody.” There was a pause. “Must be the hormones.” Patrick snarled and stalked off, pelt bristling.

“C’mon man, you didn’t have to make him angry!” Everyone turned to where Andy, Eric, and Matt were walking over.

“What happened?” Travis demanded, rising to his feet. “Did y’all actually pair off your five-hundred million dollar quarterback?”

Andy sighed. “Yes, we have. There will now be a determination period where we go through any pair offers.” He paused. “Patrick has to agree to a possible mate and start… courting… before the end of the offseason.”

“Bro what the fuck-” All of the players started yelling. It was almost the playoffs. The offseason started soon.  

“This is fucked up,” Jerick stated bluntly. A murmur of agreement rose from the crowd if players.

Bieniemy looked angry too. “I know it is,” The offensive coordinator agreed. “But we can’t do shit about it, so we’re going to try to make it as pleasant as an experience as possible.”

“We can try to do something about it,” Travis suggested. “Every year in America wolves are getting more rights. Why don’t we start raising more awareness.”

Andy sighed again, looking older than ever. “You guys can try to do what you want, but please, Lord, don’t get fined.”

Travis grinned. They could try.

-----

Another pack meeting was called at Patrick’s house. Which basically was them drinking a lot to try and forget the shit day that just happened.

“Can we drink this expensive ass whiskey, holy shit,” Nick called from where he was going through all of Patrick’s alcohol. 

“Drink whatever, as long as it gets me drunk. I will drink fucking Everclear at this point,” Patrick muttered, burying his face into his hands. Isabelle patted him consolingly on the shoulder before rising to her feet as the doorbell rang. It was probably the DoorDash they ordered. No one wanted to cook tonight.

“I’m so fucking tired,” Patrick moaned, setting his head on L’Jarius’s shoulder. He blinked as a glass of whiskey was shoved into his hand by Harrison. He sniffed it, sensitive nose wrinkling at the strong smell before downing it. 

Isabelle came back with his food, and they all sat on the floor around the coffee table, eating and drinking. 

“We’re gonna regret this hangover tomorrow,” Harrison muttered dryly into his second beer. Everyone laughed.

Patrick, who was sprawled out on the rug, grinned. “Eh, we’ve all made dumber mistakes,” He said. Nick muttered his agreement.

They were a wreck. Patrick still felt… a lot. But with the comfort of his pack, he felt much calmer. He rose to his feet, rubbing his wrist against the back of L’Jarius’s head on his way up. “Give me a few minutes, while I’m still somewhat sober I gotta call my parents.” He paused before muttering “All three of them” and stalking off.

He started with his biological mother, who would probably be the easiest. She had never shown much interest in him, but he knew she was proud of him for being so successful. After all, that was the point of his existence, for him to be successful. 

When he called and told her the news, she asked a few questions before wishing him well. It was quick and painless.

He then moved on to his mom who had raised him. Randi had mostly stepped into the parental role well, accepting the baggage that came with his dad. He knew she loved him, and sometimes resented him slightly. She was fully human, and so were her other two children, and had never quite known what to do with a wolf pup around. He didn’t blame her, she had tried her hardest.

“Patrick, hi!” His mom greeted, sounding genuinely pleased. “You haven’t called in a while, I was starting to get concerned!” She teased.

Patrick laughed, murmuring his apologies. “Sorry mom, it’s, uh, been busy. I’m actually calling with news,” He admitted.

“Oh?” His mom now sounded concerned. “What’s up, my little wolf?” Patrick smiled at the nickname. His dad had called him that forever, and his mom had picked it up at some point.

“The league is pairing me off. The Chiefs have agreed to it,” He told her, quiet and gentle. He was somewhat scared of how she would react.

There was a long silence. “Oh, sweetheart…” Randi murmured. “And, um, how do you feel about that?” She sounded unsure.

Patrick laughed, slightly wild. “I have no clue, at this point. Scared? Confused? Angry? Sad? I don’t even know.”

Randi hummed. “Have you told your father yet?”

Patrick shook his head, even though she couldn’t see him. “No, I called my mother, since she was going to be the quickest. Then I called you, mom,” He said softly.

“Ah, so you’ll be telling him next. Good luck, dear, I love you. Call me if you need anything.”

Patrick’s eyes filled with tears. “I love you too, mom,” He choked out before hanging up. He took a deep breath to prepare himself before calling his dad. 

Chapter Text

Patrick paced his room anxiously as the phone rang. His hands shook, knuckles white from gripping the phone while he waited for his father to pick up. He took a deep breath to calm himself and winced, he could smell his own stress and anxiousness, which combined with the alcohol on him, wasn't a nice mix. 

“Patrick?” His dad answered. Patrick inhaled, trying to figure out what to say. All that came out was a pathetic whimper and he winced, scrambling to get it together. 

“Whoa, is something wrong?” His dad sounded concerned. Patrick swallowed. 

“I’m being paired off by the league and have to agree to a pair by the end of the offseason,” He rushed out, completely skipping a greeting. 

There was a long pause. A long long pause. Patrick swallowed, shifting his weight. He was nervous. 

“I’m coming to Kansas City,” His dad announced. Patrick blinked. 

“What.”

“I’m coming to Kansas City,” Pat repeated. “This is going to be tough and I know what you’re going through. It makes sense for me to be there.” There was a long pause. “Plus, then I can scare off any pairs that aren't good enough for you. 

Patrick stood there, mouth agape. “Are you sure? You really don't have to, I just called because I didn't want you to see it on the news and be surprised.”

His dad huffed out a laugh. “You might be grown now, but I'm always going to want to protect you, you’re my pup.”

Patrick couldn't help but smile. “Okay, okay, fine. It’ll be good to have you around. I’ve been missing you.”

The two exchanged plans for plane tickets before bidding each other goodbye. Patrick left the room, heart much lighter. 

Harrison got to him first. “So? Did they react okay?” He asked anxiously. Patrick laughed.

“My dad’s coming to stay with me. Something about scaring off any pairs that aren't good enough for me.”

The group burst into laughter. Patrick grinned. “Alright, let's finish drinking and then… Anyone up for a run?”

-----

There was nothing quite like running with your pack. They had driven out to a park, changing out of their clothes in the car and quickly shifting.

It was mostly quiet in the park, but a few people were there with friends or family, and people were murmuring as the wolves came into view. 

L’Jarius suddenly yipped and nipped at Nick’s ears. Isabelle barely got out of their way in time to avoid being run over as the two started playing, bounding around each other. Patrick and Harrison exchanged a glance as they padded forward. Patrick tilted back his head and let out a low, loose howl, earning a few gasps from the humans around, before taking off towards the woods towards the edge of the park. He knew the woods led toward the highway, so he prepared himself to quickly turn and run by the highway.

Isabelle and Harrison were hot on his trail, and Nick and L’Jarius were just behind him.

Patrick let out another howl. It was exhilarating, with the wind in his fur and his pack with him. 

He lead them by the highway, continuing straight where it curved, heading towards where he knew there was a pond. Harrison let out a delighted howl as it came into view, and Nick and L’Jarius split off from the group to chase some geese. Patrick slowed to a walk, panting heavily. Isabelle brushed against him before chasing after Harrison, who launched himself into the lake.

Patrick shook himself out and followed after the two of them, swimming out strongly towards the center. He shifted back to human form once out there, grinning as the two followed his lead.

“I can't wait until your pups are big enough to do these runs with us,” He said, treading water.

Harrison grinned. “And eventually we’ll have yours with us.” Patrick tried not to frown, dipping a hand into the water and pressing a palm over his stomach. Right. 

He tried to think about it. A red-furred pup or two, that took after him, or perhaps a pup that took after its father, faceless and nameless at this moment, tumbling under his paws and at the shoreline.

It wasn't a bad thought. Strange, but not bad. He grinned back.

“Yeah, eventually,” He agreed with a laugh.

A loud splash gained the three’s attention, and they all laughed as a goose squawked and the flock took off into the air. Nick’s cursing could be heard, loudly breaking the silence of the air as L’Jarius swam over to them, human once more. 

“Geese are evil,” The cornerback said with a laugh. Nick joined them, scowling.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want,” He hissed. “One of these days I will catch some geese and they’ll be delicious.”

Isabelle patted him fondly on the shoulder and everyone started laughing even harder.

-----

Patrick sat in his locker, smiling innocently as Coach Bieniemy stared at him, inches away from his face.

“Oh my God, Coach, they’re, shockingly, not hungover, leave him be,” Orlando called, rolling his eyes impatiently. “And if they were, Nick would’ve cracked immediately and told you.”

Nick growled at him from across the room as everyone started laughing. He felt like he was getting laughed at a lot lately. 

Eric threw his hands up. “Fine! Everyone out onto the field!” He yelled. There was a mad scramble as everyone headed out. 

The rest of the coaching staff was waiting for them as another day of practice began for their upcoming game against the Seattle Seahawks.

Patrick settled next to Travis to stretch. The tight end looked over him critically. “How are you?” Travis asked quietly.

“My dad’s coming into town,” Patrick admitted. Travis hummed to himself. He knew that Patrick tried to be as independent as possible from his parents and old pack.

“What does he think of it all?”

Patrick shrugged. “We didn't really talk about that. We’ll probably discuss it once he actually gets here.” He cracked a grin. “I’m sure he’ll be pleased about some grand-pups.”

Travis snorted, reaching out with a hand to shove Patrick over. Patrick snapped harmlessly at his hand, laughing.

“You should name your pup Travis, when you have one.”

“Hell no! Name one Harrison!” Harrison yelled, whipping around. 

Patrick laughed as the entire team burst into an argument over what Patrick should name his pups.

“You guys do know my pair might have some ideas too?” He called. It went quiet for a moment. 

“Fuck that, you’re the one who’s gonna be pregnant, you get to pick the name,” JuJu said decidedly. A loud murmur of agreement rose from the gathered players before a whistle cut them off. 

“Alright! Gather up! Let’s get to work!”

-----

“Hey, your dad’s here Patrick.

Patrick smiled at the assistant who murmured in his ear pre-game. He nodded and murmured his thanks, standing up and stretching.

He glanced up toward where he knew his dad should be, huffing when Nick bumped questioningly against him. 

He felt… On edge. Something about this game felt off. Which was strange. They weren't rivals or anything with the Seahawks, and the Seahawks only had one wolf in DK Metcalf, who they were on good terms with.

“My dad’s here,” He told Nick, who grinned. His packmates liked his dad well enough.

Nick jogged off to finish warming up, and Patrick searched out Coach Reid. Andy looked up as he approached. “You alright?” Andy asked, looking concerned.

Patrick smiled, wincing as he felt the sharp point of fangs poke his lower lip. Something was definitely off.

“Something feels strange,” He huffed out a laugh. Andy stood up fully, looking concerned. Patrick waved a hand dismissively, letting Andy place a grounding hand on his shoulder. “I’m sure it’ll be alright.”

Andy frowned. “If you say so..” He said. “Let me know if you need anything, alright?” He told him gently. 

Patrick nodded. 

“It’ll be fine.”

Chapter Text

The game was chippy from the get-go. Patrick’s teammates fed off of his, Nick’s, and L’Jarius’s nervous energy. DK also seemed antsy, snarling at Nick for absolutely zero reasons after the linebacker made a tackle on him. Which was a no. Absolutely not. Dinner after this was going to be necessary. Clearly, a chat was needed.

Patrick tried to shrug it off, he had football to focus on, a game to win. The game was going pretty smoothly until the third quarter, despite the obvious tensions between the wolves. The crowd was feeding off of it, booing DK soundly any time the receiver made a play. Which probably wasn’t helping.

Then the third quarter came along. That's when things really went to hell.

Patrick was scrambling for space, silently cursing Orlando, when Darrell Taylor smacked into him. He yelped as he was slammed into, knocking him off his feet as he was tackled into the Seahawks sideline. Darrell stepped off of him, and then DK snarled.

‘What the hell-’ Patrick thought before a flash of white filled his eyesight and the thick scent of fear flooded his sense, making him cringe away. Which seemed… Wrong. Seeing as he was the one being attacked. 

He snarled, lashing out with a careful hand to try and deter DK as he was suddenly pinned. 

“DK, what the hell?” He growled, attempting to roll them. DK just snarled back and and tightened his grip on him. Patrick reared up, and the two rolled wildly, a snarling, writhing mess as they crashed into the legs of Seahawks players. People were yelling, and jumping back, and Patrick felt fear and adrenaline coursing through him, causing the wolf in him to rear up. He caught a glimpse of the wolf handlers moving in the crowd. Hell no. He was not getting tranquilized today. 

His helmet came off somewhere in the chaos, and he bared his teeth, staring DK in the face. DK had a crazed look in his eyes as he snarled, swiping at the soft, exposed skin of his face. Patrick yelped loudly, feeling blood well from the cuts.

Seriously, what the fuck? He thought his pack and DK were on good terms. He could hear Harrison’s snarling from across the field and silently prayed that someone had a hand on him, Nick, and L’Jarius. The last thing they needed was for all five of them to get tranqued. He could see the headlines already. They were in deep shit. 

He rumbled at the young wolf, frustration coursing through him, and reared up, tossing DK off him and scrambling to his feet. He stalked forward, shaking blood out of his eyes, baring his teeth at a coach who was in his way and staring down the wide receiver, who lunged for him again. This time, Patrick was ready for him and jumped out of the way, sharp wolf eyes catching the way DK landed slightly off balance. He lunged, knocking DK to the ground, and closed his teeth carefully around his throat. He knew his fangs were pricking the thin skin there.

DK huffed and tried to throw him off once, twice, before whimpering and going limp in submission. Patrick released him and stood up, stepping carefully off of him. He growled once more before turning, picking up his helmet, and stalking across the field toward the Chiefs' sideline.

Andy met him halfway there, two athletic trainers rushing behind him with towels. Patrick lifted a hand and wiped the blood out of his eyes. 

“You alright Patrick?” Andy asked. “Can I touch you?” Patrick tried to respond with an affirmative, but words fell out of his reach. He still had the phantom feeling of bristling fur as he stepped forward into Andy’s space and bumped his shoulder again Andy’s chest, letting an athletic trainer step forward and wipe the blood off his face and from his eyes.

“Pat, you got any words for me?” Andy asked, looking concerned. Patrick shook his head and let out a chuff, letting the athletic trainer tilt his head toward the light. 

“He’ll need stitches on these cuts. Metcalf got him good.” Rick said, sucking his breath in through his teeth. “Let’s let L’Jarius, Nick, and Harrison get a good look at him before we take him away. They’ll freak out if we don’t.”

A wolf handler stepped forward, clearing his throat. “DK Metcalf is getting removed from the game. I know Patrick was acting in self-defense, so he’s only getting a warning. If we have another issue, he’ll be removed too,” The handler said. Patrick grimaced, wary at the sight of the tranquilizer gun.

“You better put that away, you’re making my wolves antsy,” Andy said, eyeing the handler warily. The handler backed off and let them go. Patrick nearly got run over by his packmates as they leaped for him. “Hey! Be careful!” Their coach scolded. 

After a moment, Patrick was dragged off toward the locker room for stitches and bandages.

-----

Patrick sat on the examination table in one of the training rooms, a snarl etched onto his face as Rick carefully stitched him up, Andy not trusting anyone else with his feral star quarterback. 

Mike Donovan burst into the room, causing Patrick’s head to whip around. Rick shushed him gently, attempting to calm the agitated wolf. Mike’s gaze was sharp as he took in the neat line of stitches across Patrick’s face. He winced as Rick started on his second row. “Handlers say that we have to wait until Patrick’s speaking English and passes an examination by them to get back on the field,” The president reported, looking peeved.

Rick sighed. “I’m not shocked. We’re lucky they weren’t tranquilized. Not saying it’s a good idea to be around two wolves locked in a fight, but the handlers couldn’t get a clear shot, which was the only thing that kept them from getting shot.”

Mike nodded, sighing. “Clark’s pissed. The Seahawks are going to be fined a lot of money, and I won’t be shocked if DK gets suspended.” He settled a hand on Patrick’s shoulder, and when Patrick leaned into the warm touch, started gently rubbing a hand up and down Patrick’s back to try and soothe him.

One more row of stitches later, Patrick was allowed back onto the sideline. It was barely controlled chaos as everyone who wasn’t on the field went to meet him. Travis reached him first, letting out a sympathetic noise as he took in the sight of the blood-crusted tape from where Rick had carefully taped over Patrick’s stitches in an attempt to keep them clean.

“Yikes, he got you good,” Orlando crowded into Patrick’s space. Patrick nodded, grimacing. 

“Yeah,” Was all he said in agreement. Andy gave him a pleased look at the sound of words. Patrick’s head was finally clearing, and he was ready to get back out on the field.

A handler walked over, tranquilizer gun slung casually across his back. “How are we feeling, Patrick?” He asked, stopping a few feet away. Patrick eyed him warily but nodded.

“Fine. Better now that I’m not bleeding everywhere.” The handler nodded, pleased, and stepped forward, looking Patrick over with a critical eye.

“Open your mouth for me,” He commanded. Patrick obediently opened, trying not to roll his eyes as he was poked and prodded. The handler finally stepped away, looking over at Reid. “He can go in whenever you’re ready to put him in, coach,” The handler announced, making a sigh of relief wash over the sideline.

“Go warm up,” Bieniemy commanded. Patrick nodded obediently as the defense went out onto the field and jogged over to Chad.

The game ended in a win. Patrick let his teammates mob him, relishing in the comfort of his pack. He pressed his face against Harrison’s, taking a moment to calm himself. They could hunt down DK after a shower.

Chapter Text

Patrick curled up into Harrison’s side, inhaling a lungful of his packmate’s familiar scent. He sighed, burying his face into Harrison’s shoulder. 

Nick poked Patrick in the shoulder. “You okay?” The linebacker asked, tilting his head curiously. Patrick straightened up and stretched, shaking his head to clear it. Water droplets went flying off his hair, still damp from the shower, pelting his teammates that surrounded him. Trent, who was laying half asleep on the floor, yelped and rolled away.

“Asshole,” Trent teased, propping his head up against Jerick’s leg. Patrick grinned at him and stood, Harrison rose in sync with him.

“I’m gonna go hunt down DK,” Pat announced, causing L’Jarius and Nick to scramble to their feet, protectiveness wafting off of them. Patrick rolled his eyes but continued smiling. “If you’re coming, c’mon then,” He said, letting L’Jarius press against his side. 

Patrick led his packmates out of the locker room, carefully avoiding the media that littered the hallways, wanting to catch a glimpse of him and his face, which was possibly going to scar. He already had over a hundred text message notifications from friends, past teammates, and journalists who younger, more foolish him had given his number, asking him about the fight and what it meant. People were always trying to push a wolf vs wolf narrative, trying to stir up drama.

Patrick ducked down a hallway when a journalist walked by on the phone with someone, his packmates quickly following his lead. He takes the long route to the visitor’s locker room, trying to avoid as much of the media as possible. They only run into one journalist, who immediately starts asking questions.

Harrison and Nick exchanged a glance, and when Harrison nodded, Nick snarled at the poor reporter, flashing white teeth. Patrick sighed as the journalist balked and fumbled his over excuses before practically running away.

“Seriously?” Patrick sighed, turning and glaring at the two of them. “We’re trying to not cause any more trouble with the media.” Nick rolled his eyes.

“We’ll be fine. And fuck them, we don’t owe them anything,” The linebacker snorted, rolling his shoulders back.

“You say that, but guess who is going to have to do media soon? All of us,” Patrick retorted. 

“And we’re going to get ripped to fucking shreds,” L’Jarius continued, eyes slightly wild at the thought of it. Patrick pressed his hand soothingly to the back of L’Jaruis’s neck, rubbing a thumb gently over his scent gland.

Harrison sighed. “When aren’t we getting ripped to shreds by the press?” He asked rhetorically. Patrick huffed out a laugh. He had a fair point. Sighing, he pressed his cheek forgivingly against Nick’s and continued onwards toward the visitor’s locker room, his packmates at his side.

When they arrived at the visitor’s locker room, Patrick could hear shouting from the inside. He shot a glare at the journalists in the hallways as they all turned and looked at them, daring them to approach. Of course, none of them were cowed, used to grumpy athletes, and one of them stepped forward. 

“Patrick, do you know what’s going on?” She asked. Patrick barely refrain from rolling his eyes and instead took a deep breath to steel himself.

“Nope, but I’m going to find out,” He muttered. He held out a hand to his teammates. “Stay here,” He told them. Harrison immediately shook his head.

“Hell no, I’m going with you,” He said, stepping forward protectively. Patrick sighed and grabbed him by the shoulder, bending his head to murmur in his ear.

“DK’s going to be freaked out enough as it is,” He whispered softly, too soft for any of the curious reporters to hear but clear to their sensitive wolf ears. “It’ll be worse if you come in bristling like this. I can handle myself, don’t worry about a thing,” He soothed, patting Harrison on the shoulder and slipping away. He pauses to make sure that Harrison isn’t following, and when Harrison stays still, steps forward and slips through the door, past security, who don’t even bother to try and stop him, and into the visitor’s locker room.

The loud locker room went silent immediately. Patrick lifted his chin, unafraid as Pete Carroll walked over.

“Hey, Patrick, you need something?” Pete asked, glancing between him and DK. Patrick nodded, rolling his shoulders back.

“I’m here for DK,” Patrick said, glancing toward the wide receiver. DK wasn’t looking at him, wouldn’t look at him, gaze focused solely on his shoes. “We’re going out to dinner,” He said like it was obvious. Carroll got a strange look on his face.

“I’m not sure that’s a great idea,” Carroll said. Patrick arched an eyebrow.

“Don’t worry, we’re not going to fight,” He assured him as if he didn’t have stitches from DK in his face. Carroll still looked hesitant, and Patrick barely refrained from rolling his eyes. “Plus, we wolves always go out to dinner when we don’t have a flight right after a game and you guys aren’t leaving until tomorrow morning. We’ll be fine.” He set his earnest gaze on the coach. “We’ll behave,” He promised.

Pete sighed and gestured towards DK, who scrambled to his feet when one of his teammates elbowed him. The agitated wolf bared his teeth at his teammates, who leaned away and put his hands up defensively.

“Aye, chill out bro,” Laquon said, eyes wide. 

DK huffed and walked over to Patrick. Patrick confidently slung an arm around DK’s shoulders. Instead of pulling away, DK, surprisingly, leaned into his touch as Patrick turned them towards the door.

“I expect you at the hotel at six AM tomorrow!” Pete called to their retreating backs. Patrick nodded, turning to murmur in DK’s ear.

“C’mon, you can spend the night at my place and I’ll give you a lift in the morning,” He promised. DK nodded and Patrick let out a pleased rumble, pressing their cheeks together. DK relaxed under the touch, a greeting between friends, not enemies, and walked much more eagerly out of the locker room.

Cameras started flashing the moment they stepped through the door and out of the locker room. Patrick and DK ignored them with all the confidence of an NFL star. Patrick let Harrison yank him close, casting an apologetic grin at DK who waved it off, standing carefully still as Nick and L’Jarius approached. The two looked him over appraisingly as Harrison cleared his throat.

“C’mon, let’s get out of here,” He decided, tilting his head and glaring at a photographer who was trying to get a little too close. Patrick huffed, bumping their shoulders together before grabbing DK by the arm.

“DK can come with me,” He announced, glancing over at Nick when the young linebacker rumbled. “Shush, you, he and I need to talk privately , without you guys death glaring at him the whole time.” He patted DK soothingly on the back, catching a whiff of nervousness. “Usual place?” He checked, glancing around at his packmates and taking a few steps forward. He gave them a look that said let’s get out of the range of the press and everyone quickly followed.

Harrison nodded. “Yeah,” He agreed, shooting DK a significant look. “Let’s go.” The kicker strode off, Nick and L’Jarius looking at each other before following, L’Jarius occasionally glancing back to make sure Patrick and DK were just behind them.

In the car, Patrick turned the key in the ignition and pulled out of the parking space and through the parking lot. The drive was silent for a few minutes until Patrick sighed as they stopped at a stop light. He turned his head to face DK, gaze curious and unjudging.

“So, why’d you attack me?” He finally asked, thrumming his fingers against the steering wheel. DK inhaled sharply,

“How badly do you want to know?” DK answered as the light turned green. Patrick shot him a look as he drove forward.

“DK-”

“Okay! Okay, I’ll tell you. But you aren’t going to like it.”

Patrick snorted. “I’ll like anything better than thinking that you now hate me for no reason,” He offered. DK shrugged.

“Fair,” The wide receiver said, settling back into his seat. “It’s a long fucking story but to put it way too simply, the Seahawks executives gave me two options. There’s been some heat on some them, apparently, some drama, and apparently, they said some shitty stuff about wolves, and they were hoping some wolf drama would take the heat off them and prove their point, or whatever.” Patrick sighed, he could see where this was going. People were becoming more and more aware of the lack of rights wolves truly had and saying discriminatory things against them could get you canceled these days. As deserved , in Patrick’s opinion.

DK nodded. “Anyway, they gave me two options. Pick a fight with you or another wolf, sorry it was you, by the way, but your crashing into the sideline made it easy. And I’m sorry for scratching up your face, I kind of panicked.” Patrick let out a little rumble as they stopped at a stop sign, leaning over and bumping their heads together in a sign that all was forgiven. DK relaxed. “But it was either pick a fight with you or they’d separate me from my pair. Permanently.” Patrick winced. DK’s pairing with an NWSL star had gained a little bit of traction, mostly for the drama it had apparently caused with DK’s girlfriend (yikes, Patrick knew he was lucky he didn’t have a girlfriend or boyfriend) and Patrick knew they were expecting.

Wolves, as pack animals, didn’t like being separated from their mates, temporary mate or not. And they especially didn’t like the threat of being separated from their pregnant mate. Patrick would do something stupid too if he was that desperate.

“Yeah, I get it. I’m not mad at you,” Patrick reassured DK, who gave him a grateful smile.

“Thanks, bro, you’re the best.” Patrick smiled at DK's words.

“I know.”

DK leaned across the console to punch him in the arm and the two laughed and joked all the way to the restaurant.

When they got out of the car, Harrison, Nick, and L’Jarius were waiting for them.

“Why y’all grinning like that?” L’Jarius asked, glancing between the two of them.

Patrick and DK exchanged a glance and started laughing again. Harrison threw his hands up. “Why do I even bother with y’all?” He asked, casting his gaze to the sky. He sighed as L’Jarius and Nick began laughing at him. “I seriously hate you guys, I’m getting food without y’all.”

“No! Wait!” Nick yelled and chased after him, the rest following. Patrick let DK lean against him as they walked. Patrick was lucky to have three wolf teammates. DK was alone in Seattle and didn’t really have a pack. But the NFL was sort of one big pack. And pack was pack, no matter how far away someone was.

Chapter Text

Patrick woke up the next morning way too early. He silently cursed whichever Seahawks executive scheduled an early morning flight. Stumbling out of bed, Patrick pulled on a random sweatshirt that he was pretty sure was one that Eric Fisher (oops) had left behind one night a couple of years ago. Oh well. He stepped out into the hall and followed DK’s familiar magnolia-river-smoke scent down the stairs and into his kitchen.

Putting his hands on his hips, he arched an eyebrow at DK, who just leaned back in a dining chair. “You’re going to need to buy more turkey bacon,” DK announced, grinning. Patrick rolled his eyes and leaned forward, snatching a slice off his plate. DK let him, grinning like the Cheshire cat.

“You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?” Patrick said, draping himself over DK’s shoulders. DK didn’t bother to respond and instead dragged their cheeks against each other, mixing their scents together. Patrick sighed and leaned against DK’s chair, slumping further over the wide receiver. A low rumble made him look up, but it was just his dad. DK stiffened slightly, having never met his father, but Patrick just pressed their cheeks together once more before going to greet the original Patrick Mahomes.

“You’re awake early,” His dad said in a way of greeting, eyes narrowed. Patrick rolled his eyes and leaned into him, letting his father wrap his arms around him and coat him in his scent, more than a bit protective. “And you got back very late.”

Patrick sighed, leaning back a little. “DK is expected back at the team hotel in…” He paused and glanced at the time on the stove. “...Twenty-eight minutes, so we gotta go soon. And we just went out to dinner, you know,” He narrowed his eyes. “As wolves do.” His father did know, of course, having been in the MLB from the early 90s through the early 2000s. He was far from the first wolf athlete, but they were less common then than they were now. His father had, most of the time, been the only wolf on his entire Major League team. There might’ve been one or two others scattered throughout the minors, but most executives thought wolves were always risks in the majors. Patrick had had more than one “uncle” growing up who had been a wolf on an opposing team. But pack was pack, his father had taught him.

Pat sighed and relaxed, but didn’t release his son quite yet. “I know,” He murmured, finally letting him go. He stepped back and Patrick ducked just in time to avoid getting his hair ruffled.

“You’re the worst,” Patrick complained, stalking over to DK and snatching his plate from his hands. “And you, DK! You better sit your ass back down! You’re the guest, you don’t get to do the dishes.”

DK huffed, standing, hands on his hips. “I invited myself into your home, and helped myself to your food, the least I could do is do my own dishes,” He protested, following the other wolf towards the sink. Patrick ignored him. Pat watched the two bicker, fond, as they scrubbed the dishes.

Perhaps, he thought, as he watched the two, perhaps if Patrick was paired with someone who could care about him as much as DK cared for him, someone who could be a friend, someone he trusted like his pack, this wouldn’t be too bad.

-----

Patrick drove back home from dropping DK off lost in thought. He was lucky to be on a team like the Chiefs, with a front office that supported and fought for him. He also had three other wolves on his team who were fiercely loving and protective. He was never alone in his city, but many other athletes didn't have that same privilege. 

When he arrived back at his house, Nick was waiting on his front doorstep in wolf form, looking half asleep. Patrick laughed as he hopped out of his car, walking over. He settled his hand into the fur at the scruff of Nick’s neck. “Do you need something?” Patrick asked, even though he was pretty sure that Nick just came over to nap with him. Nick just yawned and mouthed at his wrist, so Patrick just opened the door and went inside, trusting Nick would follow him.

A peek into the empty kitchen and living room had Pat guessing that his dad went back to sleep, so he headed up the stairs and towards his own bedroom, Nick’s nails clicking on the floor behind him. 

Patrick climbed into bed, Nick waiting until he was settled before jumping up and clambering on top of him. Patrick laughed as the giant wolf plopped down on his legs, huffing. “You big, dumb mutt,” He teased. Nick wuffed at him, closing a giant mouth around his left arm before clambering forward until Patrick’s top half was being crushed and all he could see was dark fur.

“Asshole,” He muttered, burying his fingers into his dark, thick fur. Nick just rested his head on his chest and looked up at him with large amber eyes. The two drifted off, breathing in sync, and would hopefully wake up at a much better time than 5:00 AM.

-----

Patrick woke up to his phone ringing and sunlight through his window. He groaned, rolling over. His entire body ached, probably from the hits Ford and the other Seattle defensive lineman had gotten on him. They were a talented team, but goddamn they needed to quit hitting after he had released the ball. Or, at least, hit a little softer. Patrick tried his goddamn best to tune out his ringtone, but someone licked him across the face and then barked. He sat up, cursing at the linebacker taking up the other half of his bed.

“I’m going to beat your ass, Nicholas,” He snapped, a growl to his voice as he glared at his packmate. Nick just slowly blinked at him before angling his ears at Patrick’s still blaring phone. Patrick snatched it up and ignored the call from Harrison. It was probably just him being annoying and protective, he’d call him back later. 

He tapped on a messenger notification and squinted at the texts. “Go shift and get dressed, Coach wants us all in for recovery and team meetings in…’ He checked the time. “...Forty-five minutes, goddamnit, Nick, did you turn off my alarm? It’s 10:15, you let me sleep in,” He accused. Nick just flicked his ears back and rolled onto his back. 

Patrick threw a pillow at him.

Nick yelped, dramatic as ever, and shot to his paws before bounding off the bed. Patrick rolled his eyes, fond, and watched as Nick shifted. For a moment, there was nothing but a blur of dark fur melting into dark skin before Nick was back on two feet and invading Patrick’s closet. Patrick let him and went to find breakfast. He didn’t need to change since he was still in his clothes from bringing DK back to the hotel.

The first Pat Mahomes was sitting at the breakfast table, eating. He silently pointed to the stove, where breakfast waited.

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” Patrick asked, bolting for the food. It was basically a breakfast salad, with lettuce, tomato, avocado, egg, a handful of croutons that may or may not be in his diet plan (Patrick wasn’t going to question it, though. Father knew best), cauliflower, onion. Patrick had had way more questionable meals when in a rush for practice like he was today.

Pat smiled at him, his scent calm with tendrils of happiness. “Come on now, sit and eat. And tell your packmate to get his ass down here and eat before y’all are late,” He said. Patrick laughed, dropping in the seat to the left of his dad and pressing their legs together. A moment later Nick came careening down the stairs, shirt on backwards. Patrick snickered at the 87 on it, definitely a shirt he had snatched from Travis. Nick rolled his eyes even as embarrassment leaked into his scent and he turned the shirt around.

“Mr. Mahomes, it’s good to see you,” Nick murmured, ducking his head. Pat just smiled at him and pointed at the food on the stove. Delighted, Nick quickly plated up his food before dropping down next to Patrick. He scooted his chair until they were pressed against each other and the three ate quickly, Patrick filling his father in on what the plan was for his pairing.

“We’re planning on announcing it this week,” Patrick explained as he shoveled salad down his throat. “Bieniemy said they’re going to be picky and that’ll take a while before they even approve someone, and then there’s a compatibility test, so Donovan thinks it might take a while.”

Pat nodded with a strange glint in his eyes. “They should be picky,” He agreed. “Nothing but the best for my son,” He said with a smile. But there was a little bit too much fang for it to be completely friendly.

Patrick just smiled back. It was in every instinct to be protective of your pack and of your kin, and it didn’t bother him the way it might bother some. Instead, he leaned across the table and pressed their foreheads together before pulling away. “Well, no matter what, it’ll sure be interesting,” He chirped, leaning back and pressing his shoulder against Nick’s. Nick grinned at him, all teeth. Patrick grinned back. He loved his mildly dysfunctional pack with everything he had.

Chapter Text

Patrick stepped through the door of the locker room on New Year's Day to chaos. Half of the guys already there were complaining about not being able to go out the night before, and the other half did and were busy getting ripped into by the coaches.

He sat down at his locker and pulled out the playbook, attempting to get some studying in before the game started. He greeted everyone as they walked in.

Harrison arrived just a couple of minutes after him, snatching his backpack off the floor and digging through it for a granola bar. Patrick let him, rolling his eyes. His packmates had no manners. 

“Did you not eat breakfast?” Patrick asked, unimpressed as Harrison tore into it with a flash of teeth. 

“Of course I ate breakfast,” Harrison responded. “You just always have the good granola bars that I, as a man with children, can no longer afford. Now, how’s the family?”

Patrick, once again, rolled his eyes. “You literally saw me on Christmas Day,” He muttered, but relayed the past few days to his packmate. By the time he had finished, L’Jarius had stumbled in, looking half asleep. Patrick’s first thought was that he was hungover, and his second thought to murder him for being hungover, but a quick inhale told him otherwise. Bieniemy, however, was giving him a death glare.

“Good morning, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Patrick greeted L’Jarius, who mumbled incoherently and dropped down onto the floor, burying his face into his arms.

“Dude,” Nick said, shoving him with his foot. L’Jarius rolled onto his back, sighing.

“Never have kids,” The defensive back said, tossing an arm over his eyes.

“Too late,” Patrick said dryly. L’Jarius cringed. 

“Right, sensitive topic right now.”

Harrison arched an eyebrow, brushing past the cornerback’s fumble. “Isn’t Kyson still in Louisiana? You don't even have to deal with him every day.”

L’Jarius sighed. “He called me last night and was talking about the most random shit and I was like… bro, I got a game tomorrow, happy New Year, let me sleep. I love my pup more than anything, but good god.”

“Why didn't you just tell him you had to get off the phone?” Nick asked, leaning against Patrick.

“Every time I tried he gave me this big sad look! How was I supposed to say no!” L’Jarius 

Nick laughed. “I have never enjoyed being single and not having kids more than this moment,” He said.

Harrison shoved him. “You’re too busy dating your career to even glance at a girl twice. I hope Veach pairs you off just for that comment.”

“Fuck you-” Nick lunged, playful, and the two went rolling across the room. Travis jumped out of the way with a yelp as the two nearly went crashing into his shins.

Nagy walked in just then and sighed. “It’s too early for this,” He grumbled, as if it wasn't already 9:00 and most of them had already been up for a few hours. He stepped around the wrestling wolves and handed Patrick an iPad. “Look at that play we ran during practice for me and come to me at most an hour before game time and tell me what you like and don't like. If you think you like it, I’ll put it in the game.”

Patrick lit up. He loved new plays. It was a little late to add one to the game plan, but whatever they wanted, he was down for.

Toub had switched his focus from yelling at a hungover special teamer to shouting at Nick to get off his kicker. Nick ignored him, snapping his teeth harmlessly in Harrison’s face. Harrison growled, swiping at him, and the two continued tumbling around the locker room until Brenden Daly, looking every inch the exasperated coach who didn't get paid enough, grasped Nick with one hand on the back of his neck, the other tangled in his shirt, and dragged him off of Harrison.

“Sorry, Toub,” Daly called, dropping Nick by his locker. Nick tilted his head back, smiling charmingly as he brushed a dread out of his eyes. “Don’t look at me so sweet and innocent. I know how you are,” He said.

Toub rolled his eyes. “You control your wolf, I’ll control mine.”

“Fuck that. Nick, you’re Spag’s problem.” 

Spags didn't even look up. “Nope. You’re the position coach, you get him.”

Daly rolled his eyes. “Fine,” He turned back to Nick. “I’ll trade you for Sneed, he’s better behaved than you.”

Dave Merritt looked up from where he was surrounded by a few of his players. “Absolutely not . L’Jarius, come here.”

L’Jarius obediently walked over, laughing.

“Can I have QB, then?” Daly tried. Nagy wrapped a possessive arm around Patrick.

“ No .”

“Travis is practically a wolf. Can I have Travis?” Brenden offered.

Tom Melvin immediately shoved Travis toward him. “Please. No takebacksies.”

Travis’s mouth dropped open. “Excuse me! Rude!” He stalked over to the linebackers. “I didn't want to be coached by you anyway .”

Patrick raised an eyebrow. “Coach Melvin, you’ve been coaching Trav since he was a rookie, what the hell was your final straw?”

Tom was integrating Nick in with the jubilant tight ends, all of whom were enjoying this. “Exactly. I’ve spent too much time with him, I’ve started losing brain cells.”

“Oh fuck you!” Travis yelled.

Andy walked in just then, quickly gaining control back over the room. Once it was silent, he smiled at them.

“Are you guys ready for some football?”

——-

Patrick leaped at Jerrick as they walked off the field. “Great receptions today!” He crowed, wrapping himself around the running back. Jerrick laughed, staggering under the quarterback’s weight.

Travis wrapped his arms around Patrick and lifted him off the ground and away from Jerrick, ignoring his squirming. The team was delighted with a good win over the Broncos. Sixteen straight? A good feeling.

Patrick bounded into the locker room, Travis at his side, to shouts of delight. He grabbed Travis by the shoulder, pulling him down to scent him for just a moment before releasing him. He bounded over to his locker, moving to squirm out of his shoulder pads when he saw it.

It didn't look like much, just a plain folder with his name on it and the NFL logo, plus a post-it note on top.

He ripped the note off and read it.

Congrats on the win today, Patrick. Here’s the first list of potential pairs the NFL has put together for you. Please look over them and return your picks to your organization’s executives as soon as possible-

The note was ripped from his hand and he turned around to come face to face with Eric Bieniemy. “Bro, what-”

Bieniemy scowled as he read the note. He reached around his quarterback and snatched the folder. “I’ll be taking that,” He announced, flipping it open.

The room suddenly went quiet, everyone crowding around to see what was going on. 

“Back up!” Eric barked. “Come on, Patrick. Go get changed and meet me in ten minutes.”

Patrick scowled but obediently walked off to go shower. Harrison scrambled to his side.

“Bro, what's happening?” The kicker asked, looking confused. 

Patrick bared his teeth in a grin. “My first list of suitors is here.”

——-

“No. No. No. No. No.”

Patrick sat silently at yet another conference table, watching Brett Veach flip through the list of athletes and viciously reject every single one of them.

Mike Donovan sighed. “Brett, they want reasons why we rejected them all. You can't just say no.”

Brett huffed. “Fine.” He tapped the name at the top of the list. “No soccer players. I refuse. We want NFL children, not soccer or baseball.” He crossed out the name and went to the next on the list. “I’ve never heard of this NBA player in my life and this is Patrick Mahomes we’re talking about. I want talent .” Onto the next. “The Blues are far too close and I don't want executives showing up with no warning trying to run this thing.”

And on it went. Patrick was finally dismissed after the first hour of debate. Mike let him know they’d call him with any players they approved.

He checked his texts as he walked back to the locker room. He had more than a dozen in the pack group chat. Harrison was asking him to swing by the house and let him know what the hell was going on. 

He drove to Harrison’s, rolling his eyes as he pulled into the driveway and saw Nick and L’Jarius’s car. Not bothering to knock, he walked straight into the house and was almost immediately greeted by Harrison’s kids.

Sweep Harrison’s daughter off the floor, he followed his nose to the area of concentrated scents: the kitchen, obviously. 

Isabelle smiled as Patrick walked in, taking her daughter from him. “Thank you, Patrick.” Patrick smiled at her and bent down to ruffle James’s hair.

“Come on, James, let’s go upstairs. It's time for a nap and the adults need to have a talk,” Isabelle announced. James pouted and Patrick leaned down to pick him up.

“Here, I’ll help you,” He offered. Isabelle smiled gratefully and led the way upstairs. Once they got the kids settled and were on the way back down the stairs, Isabelle turned to him.

“You’re very good with them. I know that this pairing isn't what you wanted but…” She placed a settling hand on his arm and smiled at him. “You’ll be fantastic.”

Patrick smiled at her. “Thank you,” He responded. “I appreciate it.”

Isabelle patted him on the shoulder and continued her walk back to the kitchen. “Of course. Now, I’m sure my mate wants to interrogate you about what’s going on. They’ve been leaping to conclusions ever since they got here.”

Patrick sighed as they turned into the kitchen, all three of his teammates looking eagerly at him. 

“So, what happened?” Nick demanded. Patrick shook his head.

“Can’t I sit down?” He whined dramatically. Harrison rolled his eyes and yanked a chair out.

“Sit!” The kicker said, snapping his fingers at the chair. Patrick snapped his teeth at him, just to watch him flinch, and dropped down.

“So… what happened?” L’Jarius repeated Nick’s earlier words.

“It wasn't very exciting. Brett went through the list of possible pairs and rejected every single one of them I’m pretty sure. By the time I left, he was writing a strongly worded email to the NFL telling them to go fuck themselves.”

Nick cackled. Isabelle smiled, smug. “I told you that they were gonna make this hard for the NFL,” She said in a sing-song voice. Harrison flapped a hand at her. 

“I know, I know. I need to see this list. Do you have a copy?” Harrison asked eagerly. 

Patrick took out his phone. “Bieniemy emailed me one.”

“I fucking love that man,” Harrison said, snatching his phone out of his hand.

Patrick settled into his chair. This would keep them busy for a while.

Chapter Text

Patrick sat down on the couch and leaned against his dad when he got back from practice. His dad wrapped an arm around him and Patrick pressed his face into his shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of family-pack-affection.

“How was practice?” Pat asked, letting Patrick settle against him. Patrick hummed noncommittally.

“It was okay,” He finally said, voice muffled by his father’s shoulder. “I spent half of it in meetings with the execs. Veach has strong opinions about who my pair should be.”

His dad nodded. “As he should. They shouldn't be making you do this at all.”

He huffed out a laugh. “They shouldn't make any of us do this, but here we are.”

Pat nodded. “They shouldn't,” He agreed before leaning forward and pressing his forehead to his son’s. “But I don't regret my pair and neither should you. Take pride where you can. I take pride in you.”

Patrick felt the warmth that only came when surrounded by his pack and family. Love and affection came bursting through him, his scent sweetening with it. He ducked his head underneath his dad’s chin, leaning further against him and practically purring.

Pat the First grinned. “I love you too. Now, do you want to enjoy it not being four degrees here and go for a run?”

Patrick sat straight up, nearly slamming his head into his dad’s jaw. “Yes, please. Just us two?”

His dad nodded. “Yeah, we can drag your pack out with us later. I want some time with just my son.”

Patrick drove them out to the Swope Park trails. There were a few people out enjoying the sunshine with their families, but everyone just gave them a couple of glances and mostly left them alone. Patrick snatched up his bag and went to change.

His dad was similarly colored to him, a classic red wolf with a little more gray mixed in. The two went walking out into the parking lot, Patrick bounding around his father like an over-excited pup.

Someone whipped out their phone and snapped a photo of them as his dad continued his steady walk towards the trailhead, ignoring his pup nipping at his paws. Patrick bolted ahead of him when he realized he wasn't going to get a reaction, skidding halfway into a bush when he tried to stop short. He spun around, stepping carefully out of the Bush and shaking leaves out of his fur, thick with his winter coat.

His dad came up to him with an amused huff. Patrick licked at his chin, dropped into a play bow, and spun around, taking off up the trail with a low, loose howl. He heard his dad take off after him and sped up, leaping over a tree root and charging past a couple resting on a park bench. All he could hear was the thunder of his own paws, the wind in his ears, and the thud of his own heart.

There was nothing more freeing than this.

——-

And there was nothing more exhilarating than this.

He spun past Maxx Crosby, ignoring the other wolf’s frustrated growl, and took off down the sideline, laughing as Crosby chased him. Sidney Jones pushed him out of bounds and he went easily, remembering Andy’s lecture on being extra careful.

He tossed the football to the ref and turned around to see Maxx just inches behind him. He didn't even flinch, having scented Maxx before he saw him.

“Hey, Maxx,” He said cheerfully, reaching out and patting him on the helmet. “How’s the mate and pups?”

Maxx rolled his eyes and bared his teeth, playful. A ref, catching the flash of white, moved closer, ready to stop a fight. And then Maxx slung an arm around his shoulder, walking back towards centerfield with him. Patrick inhaled Maxx's scent, which was warm with playfulness-adrenaline-excitement. They hadn't gotten a chance to speak during warm ups with the NFL still jumpy about the DK fight.

“They’re good. Ella is already a bitey little thing,” Maxx said. “If she had teeth I’d be a goner.”

“Ah, just like her father then?” Patrick teased, laughing when Maxx snapped his teeth at him.

“I hope your pup is an absolute terror, exactly like you,” Maxx teased back before jogging back to the defensive huddle.

“I have no bad traits!” Patrick called back, laughing as he jogged to the huddle and called his team in.

After the game ended, Patrick yanked Maxx into his arms at centerfield, ignoring the officials trying to keep the wolves separated. Nick, Harrison, and L’Jarius crowded around them. He purred loudly, pressing their helmets together.

“Good game, man,” He said, rubbing their helmets together in a way that would be scenting if there weren't layers of protection between them. Maxx laughed and reached out, undoing Patrick’s chin strap before undoing his own so he could take off his helmet and scent him properly

L’Jarius launched himself at Maxx the moment Patrick stepped back from him and Nick wrapped himself around them both. Harrison hugged him too and murmured something before they broke apart, laughing. Patrick’s teammates returned to his side and Patrick grinned at Maxx.

“See you in California?” He asked, referencing the NFL Honors. Maxx smiled back.

“Of course. Prepare to taste my dust,” He teased.

Patrick snorted. “You wish!” He replied, dragging him into one final hug before heading toward where the trainers were waiting for him.

“No fights, this time, eh?” Rick asked, pulling him close and checking for marks, just in case the friendly-looking hug hadn't been friendly. Patrick rolled his eyes.

“Not you too,” He grumbled. “I got into a scrap with a wolf once and suddenly none of us can talk to each other anymore.”

Rick huffed out a laugh and released him. “Yep. The officials aren't pleased that y’all ignored the orders to stay apart.”

Patrick growled, quiet, low in his throat, almost too quiet for a human to hear, but Rick was close enough that he quickly stepped back. Harrison pressed close to Patrick’s back, both protective and concerned as the quarterback sighed. “Sorry, it's just stupid. Of course, we get into little scraps, but that's just how things work out. It's instinct,” He said, shrugging. Rick sighed and pointed to the tunnel.

“Go shower and change and I’ll let Bieniemy smack some sense into you,” He said, patting Patrick on the shoulder.

——-

“What about him?”

Patrick buried his face in his hands as they went through this week’s list of suitors. Nick and Harrison were wrestling on the floor, leaving L’Jarius, Isabelle, and Patrick to look. No one had survived last week’s list between his pack and the Chiefs executives. The news had already been leaked about Patrick’s pairing, so the NFL Wolf group chat had plenty of opinions too.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“He’s ugly,” L’Jarius announced in response to Isabelle’s question. The she-wolf smacked him, scolding him, and he ducked away with a yelp. Nick and Harrison both popped up at that, wanting to see who they were talking about.

“After all the googling we’ve done, he’s ugly being your only complaint isn't too bad. He could be a criminal.” Harrison commented.

“Honey, he’s also a criminal.”

There was a long pause.

“Patrick. Take the fines.”

Patrick sighed, pressing his palms against his eyes. “Just send the list to the group chat and let them rip it apart. I'm tired of this already.” Harrison and Isabelle exchanged a glance. Isabelle shrugged and Harrison whipped out his phone, snapping a picture of the list.

Everyone’s phone vibrated once as the picture went through, and then fifteen seconds later, started vibrating like crazy as the group chat exploded.

Maxx Crosby: Hell no.

DK Metcalf: THEY’RE UGLY!!!

Nico Collins: THEY’RE ALL EITHER UGLY OR A NOBODY YOU CAN DO BETTER

Aaron Rodgers: Tell the NFL we said absolutely not.

Cam Akers: ew ew ew ew

Bobby Wagner: I now identify as asexual after seeing your options.

DK Metcalf: i’m gonna tweet @ one of them saying “you’re so ugly you turned Bobby asexual”

Patrick Mahomes: NO

Aaron Rodgers: No.

Bobby Wagner: dear god.

Harrison Butker: YES

Justin Herbert: yeahhh Pat you can do better.

DK Metcalf: Aaron if u have such strong opinions about it…

Devin White: THINK OF THE ARM STRENGTH AARON

Aaron Rodgers: No. He’s literally like my little brother. I’m gagging just thinking about it.

Harrison Butker: wow I’m honestly almost offended for Patrick

Maxx Crosby: ^^^

Patrick Mahomes: DON’T BE. UGH.

Isaiah Simmons: lmao wow

Marquise Brown: now HERE are some strong opinions LMAO

Aaron: I’m twelve years older than him. He’s an obnoxious ass little brother. That’s it.

Patrick: There would have to be NO other option and trust me… there are other options

Aaron: Exactly.

DK Metcalf: Man the other wolves who aren't on their phones rn are gonna be hella confused.

Darius Slayton: Literally… some of us are at practice and of course y’all are having an interesting conversation

Aaron Rodgers: ??? Why are you on your phone? You’ll get in trouble.

Darius Slayton: Nah I’m coach’s fav

Harrison Butker: well we also thought Patrick was coach’s fav and he’d never get in trouble but now he’s getting paired off… so…

Patrick set down his phone and glared at Harrison, who was laughing. Isabelle was reading the chat over his shoulder instead of on her own phone.

“You guys are horrible,” He complained, throwing an arm over his face to hide his smile. Despite how rough it was going, he didn't feel too bad about everything. At least he had his friends and pack with him.