Jack had first noticed something weird about Rhys’ clothing about a week ago.

Usually, his PA wore that vest and teal shirt combo, with his nerdy red tie running up the middle. Jack got used to it just as he got used to Rhys bringing him coffee and tapping the toe of his boot against the floor when he was thinking. So when that changed, when Rhys walked into the office one morning wearing a dark grey turtleneck, Jack couldn’t help but think why. Especially when the omega didn’t acknowledge it.

He’d made a conscious choice to pay attention to Rhys’ outfits after he’d noticed the change the first time. Sure enough, Rhys wore sweaters or jackets every single day of the week. He didn’t bother shrugging them off when he go to the office, either, keeping them on from the moment he handed Jack his coffee in the morning to when he said goodbye at the end of the day.

Naturally, Jack got suspicious.

He rested his chin on his tented fingers one workday as he waited for Rhys to arrive, mind occupied less with the morning’s schedule and more with exactly why his PA had decided to change up his wardrobe.

“Maybe he’s hiding something?” Jack muses aloud, tapping a finger against his lip. Sure, that could be it. But what would Rhys even need to hide? Jack knew him inside and out thanks to both his company profile and the fact that they’d spent the last few months working in close contact with each other. If Rhys had some weird scars or injuries or new cybernetics he was trying to hide, Jack would probably know about it right?

He remained largely in the same, contemplative position up until Rhys finally walked in with a coffee in each hand and a handle bag looped around his wrist and—sure enough, instead of the vest and shirt combo Jack had grown used to, he wore a deep navy sweater instead. It looked good on him, sure—almost everything did, Rhys was just like that—but it’s mere existence bugged the hell out of Jack. Rhys must’ve noticed his scrutiny, because as he walked close enough to Jack’s desk to set the man’s coffee atop it, he raised his eyebrow.

“Jack? Is something wrong?” I’m not late am I—no, I’m not late,” he corrected, presumably checking the time on his ECHOeye. But Jack was already up, getting close enough to Rhys in one long stride before he grabbed the hem of his PA’s sweater and pulled it up.

Rhys squawked and started so hard he nearly fell over. Jack’s hand shot out to steady him, though his grip was light and distracted as he gazed at what lay beneath Rhys’ sweaters.

No scars, no injuries. No fancy new prosthetics or implants or anything. Not even new tattoos. Nothing like that.

Rhys just looked…well…like he’d packed on a few pounds.

Jack gaped as Rhys struggled to pull down the hem of his shirt only for the CEO to catch his wrist and hold it aloft. Little frustrated mewls snorted from Rhys as he turned his head to the side, his cheeks colored bright pink.

“You…will you stop staring?” He hissed, but Jack paid it little mind. His eyes scanned over how Rhys had filled out, his pale stomach and hips spilling out slightly over the waistband of his pants. Little red marks curled up diagonally along his torso, and from under the rucked-up hem of Rhys’ sweater he could see the soft, rounded undersides of his tattooed pecs.

“Okay, you’ve had your fun. I get it.” Rhys tried wriggling away, face set in a pout. “I was trying to…I knew you’d just tease me so I didn’t want to deal with it, okay?”

“Tease you? Over what?” Jack cocked his head to the side, finally lifting his head from Rhys’ middle to look his PA in the eye. “It doesn’t look bad on you, sugar, just…what’s going on?”

Rhys huffed, though as Jack lowered the hem of his sweater he looked a little more relieved.

“Something-something omega genetics, all right? The details don’t really matter but…in the wintertime my body likes to stock up, okay? So I get a little…like this.”

“Wintertime? Babe, did you forget we’re on a space station?”

“No, but my body doesn’t know that.” Rhys frowned. “Can we just drop it? It’s embarrassing.”

“Embarrassing? Oh, no no no,” The hand grabbing Rhys’ wrist released it, before both of Jack’s palms pressed under the omega’s sweater and against his full hips, giving them a seductive squeeze. “Pumpkin, this isn’t embarrassing. This is sexy as hell.”

---

Fortunately, it didn’t take much more convincing to get Rhys to—at least for the time being—accept the fact that Jack really did appreciate what winter weight did to his body. Thankfully, too, as the sexual tension between them was starting to give Jack more grey hairs than the respectful streak he already had going.

With Rhys laying back against the desk and those wonderful thighs squeezed around his waist Jack finally found himself knotting inside of his PA, leaving him wonderfully sticky and messy with cum once he finally pulled out and away. Rhys panted, his sweater all the way rucked up and over his chest, leaving his perfect body totally on display as Jack affectionately pressed against his stomach, enjoying the soft sink of his flesh as cum and slick leaked out of his hole.

“You know…” Jack purred as he kissed over the bites he’d left on Rhys’ pecs, leaning into the fingers stroking through his hair, “now that I know what’s underneath, I don’t really mind the sweaters.” He kissed one of Rhys’ reddened nipples before smirking up at his PA. “They’re cute. Though if you wanted to go back to wearing something tighter I certainly wouldn’t mind.”

Rhys chuckled breathily, his hand urging Jack to lean over and kiss him as he wound his legs back around the CEO’s hips.

“If it gets you to knot me like that again, I’ll wear anything you want me to.”