Chapter Text
The alarm clock blared.
5 fucking AM… Why did he set that blasted alarm that early? On a goddamn Sunday?
Oh, right… He had a meeting to get ready for yesterday, and he needed to be up early and he forgot to turn it off for today.
Slade groaned, and rubbed his face into his pillow. He sucked in a breath, and jammed down on the button, hoping the thing will fucking shut up, already! After multiple tries, the thing decided that it screeched enough.
Slade laid back down as his phone chirped, again, again, again. Sighing, he picked up the phone, seeing the first one from Wintergreen. It was enough to ignore the rest of the messages.
Hurry up, the message read. He needs you-stresser.
Opening his one bleary eye, he jumped up. “Fuck!”
Billy booked him for the week – a difficult one…. The boy is a nightmare, he refused to take care of himself, requiring all of Slade’s attention – Refused to nest, refused to eat, would lock himself in the bathroom and sit in his tub, refused to be touched and come out of his heat exhausted and drained, irritable to the extreme, dry…
It’s not unusual for him to be called in a day or two early to help deal with it. Not with this kid…
So, it was up to Slade to be there bright and early, to make sure the kid didn’t do anything stupid, lock any doors to rooms that wouldn’t be used, hide keys so the kid won’t hide away, and call in to his brother to tell him that he’s there.
He pulled on his clothes as he continued packing his bag he started the night before, grabbing his wallet and picking up his keys just as his phone rang.
“Wintergreen,” He sighed, grabbing a suppressor from his bedside table. “Yeah, I know, I’m –”
“Late,” Billy huffed, “As fuck. His brother has already called. Thrice!”
“Tell Grayson to calm his balls – I’m on my way.” He threw his bag over his shoulder and grabbed his car keys.
“What’s wrong with you?” Billy huffed. Again. “What? Did you down a bottle of liquor? If you are drunk, even remotely-”
“Goddamnit!” He cursed into the microphone, as he rushed to lock his front door, and run to his car, “I ain’t fucking tanked! Didn’t even smoke!” The boy hated that… “Just fucking exhausted, alright? Somebody had me triple booked!”
“Alright! Alright!” His handler snapped back, and sighed. “Just get there,” and hung up.
“Thanks for that, ass.” Slade threw the phone on the passenger seat, and drove to the nearest grocery store to stock up. Ignoring the fact that his handler didn’t promise to not triple book him in the future.
He didn’t bother acknowledging the greeter at the door, simply grabbing a cart, and high tailed it to the freezer section, looking at the Ben & Jerry flavors, picking some from the list of “yes” and “no’s” his family had supplied – New York Super Fudge Chunk, Brownie Batter, Half Baked and anything else that looked remotely chocolaty (not that Grayson will know anything about that, he would throw a fit if he knew that his precious baby brother was given sugar. Slade couldn’t help but roll his eyes at that one, his father handed the list to the hired Alpha, the ice cream flavors written in neat capital letters at the bottom). Precut fruits (skipping over the apple and various citrus fruits), water bottles, tortilla chips and dip, microwavable meals, various fruit sauces, (except for apple, he hated those) yogurt (again, no apple), and fresh-cut vegetables, single-use heating pads, Tylenol (the coated kind, the kid doesn’t like the others, his father says that they make his stomach hurt), batteries – just in case.
He went back twice for those.
When Slade was in line waiting for a cashier to pull their fingers out of their ass, a candy apple red blanket caught his eye (different from what the Omega usually nests with, but he just can't help it, he wants it...). Fluffy, and soft when ran his finger over it, someone had abandoned it, clearly not to their tastes.
Its not like the kid didn’t have stuff, but sometimes Slade wondered if the kid even cared about himself enough to try…
~*
It was Grayson’s father, Bruce the fucking Wayne, who contacted him when they realized the kid wasn’t taking care of himself during his heat. Snubbing their requests to nest with him in his pre-heat, and refusing to nest altogether when his full heat hit – it was the Omega’s inability to move that stopped him from running off in the first place. His father has done everything in his power to try and help the boy, until he caved when one of his stupidly rich friends spoke of a comfort Alpha he got for his son, a college of Bruce, Roy Harper-Queen.
“It’s done wonders, Bruce,” The man had said, “Roy has never been happier. He’s more agreeable.”
It wasn’t long until Bruce Wayne contacted Wintergreen, Slade’s handler, to arrange a meeting for his son and an Alpha for the boy to choose from.
Slade was the tenth in the line-up – the boy apparently very picky when it came to his nest partners. But Slade would be disappointed if he just rolled over, and showed his stomach…
When he was invited to make his case for nest-slash-heat mate, he drove to the address that Billy had sent him – an old-money address in the outskirts of Gotham City, more woods than buildings, allowing the Alphas to some serious territory, instead of squabbling over each other. Like he did…. He got out of the car, taking the box with the scented cotton blanket with him. If the Omega agreed, he would take Slade’s gift with little fuss.
A butler with a small moustache, thinning grey hair and a black overcoat met him at the door. Small, grey eyes staring at him as if he wasn’t worth the gum on his shoe. He opened his mouth, and a British accent flowed forth: “A mister, Slade Wilson, I presume?”
“Mister Pennyworth?” The Beta smell huffed off him like clean linen, and soap, overpowered by the smell of sick radiating out of the house, raising an eyebrow. Probably in the middle of the laundry run. Slade held out his hand, business card between his fingers. “Pleasure to meet you, Slade Joseph Willson, Omega Companion.”
The butler took the card, glanced at it, and with a sigh, stepped aside. “A pleasure. Master Bruce is waiting for you in the study. May I take your parcel?”
“No, thank you, mister Pennyworth.” Slade stepped in and the Beta closed the door behind him.
“Very well. Please follow me.” The man managed to look down at him even though he was a good six inches shorter, and repeated, “The master is waiting.”
The man turned and led him deeper into the house, without waiting for Slade to follow. He couldn’t help but roll his eye as did, both at the man and the man he served.
The house screamed old, old money, echoing for miles around. All deep wood and spiraling arches, the Beta’s shoes clack-clack-clacking across the marble flooring, through halls and dining rooms, and living rooms, up one flight of stairs until they reached the study.
The white gloved hand of the butler knocked against the dark mahogany door, in three quick raps, before he rested his hand on the doorhandle.
“Come in Alfred,” The voice was tired.
The man pushed over the door, and announced to the room, “Mister Slade Joseph Willson, sir.”
The butler stepped forward, and not waiting for Slade to follow him. The smell of “pack” and “stress” and “mine” radiating from the room. The thick curtains and carpets trapping the… sick smell in the large house, building and mounting one over the other.
Bruce Motherfucking Wayne sat behind a massive oak… the word “desk” would be an underestimation, more like an altar, with his adopted(?) children spread out around him on couches and comfortable looking chairs. The perfect representation of an Alpha posing…
Someone tutted, drawing Slade’s attention to the youngest in the group – a pup no older than seven, clearly of Wayne’s blood. The boy was a spitting image of his father, the only thing that was different were the eyes, Al Ghul eyes, the scent of worried pup heavy in the air, sour milk, a hint of chilies and rosehip, as the boy stared at his missing eye with pure contempt…
So, it is true… Wayne had bedded the Al Ghul heiress, and claimed an Alpha’s rights over the boy. A one in a million Alpha female and an Alpha male pup, an Alpha male pup... Alpha, Alpha, Alpha. The great trifecta. Ra’s must be in sufferable.
“Damian,” The rumbled, ‘Alpha-Calm-Peace-Father’ spreading through the air, as the pup tutted before stomping to pace behind his father’s chair, sending warm black coffee and a hint of chillis, overpowered by the soft scent of warm, sour milk into the air. He pulled the boy to a stop and tucked him into his side. They waited for the boy to calm down a bit, running his fingers through the boy’s hair. “Now, what can I do for you, mister-?”
The butler stepped to Wayne, and held out Slade’s card. Wayne took it, holding it in such a manner that his son can look at the card as well, both frowning at it for a moment, before his face relaxed. Never mind that he was just introduced.
“Ah, yes, Oliver recommended you,” Wayne passed the business card down to his sons, standing, holding out his hand, the chillis quickly disappearing to be replaced by charcoal, waring with the other scents in the room. “Bruce Thomas Wayne.”
Slade quickly stepped up, making sure his scent patches were still in place as he shifted his hold on the box and gripped the other Alpha’s hand. “Slade Joseph Willson. A pleasure.”
“Please,” Wayne motioned to the comfy wingback chair in front of the desk, as Wayne settled down in his own chair, with a sigh, and a deep frown, once again, pulling the pup into his side, “Thank you for coming. We were getting desperate.”
“I will bring refreshments, sir.” The butler stepped out and closed the door behind them, just as the littlest pup spoke up –
“This is ridiculous!” He pulled himself away, and turned to frown at his father. “Todd is more than capable-”
“Jason is an Omega, Damian,” His father looked down at the pup, “And Omega’s have different needs than that of an Alpha, I have told you that. Just as you have different needs as a pup, Damian.”
“But –” The kid pouted, sour milk smell of an upset pup spreading into the air, mixing heavily with the chilis.
“Calm down, Damian,” Another Alpha stood from his seat, the scent of warm ash spreading into the air, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder, “Bruce already explained all of this, we can’t give Jason what he needs right now. And, hopeful, this man will.”
The pup huffed as the Alpha pulled the boy closer, smooth black hair, big blue eyes. He turned to Slade and held out his hand, “Timothy Drake.”
Slade took it, introduced himself again, and watched as the pup was ushered back into his seat, with a: “I still think Todd should have a choice.”
“We gave him a choice Damian,” Another spoke, same softness as the rest, he stood with a flare that was uncommon amongst Alphas, flowing out of his chair, before greeting Slade with another handshake; “Dick Grayson.”
The smell of pepper and green apples wafting off the boy, protect pack a strong underlying scent.
Slade gave a nod before turning back to Wayne, “The email didn’t really state the reason for my employment, only that you needed help with a reluctant Omega.”
“Yes,” Wayne sighed, before standing, the pup sticking close to his father by holding onto his pant leg, shuffling along as his father poured two glasses of amber liquid, handing the other to Slade before taking a slow sip, “My son, Jason.”
Slade took a sip of his drink, waiting for Wayne to continue, and so he did with another sip and a sigh. Taking a seat, and welcoming the pup as he scurried back onto his lap with the patient huff of an Alpha parent.
“He refuses to take care of himself, unless… coaxed.” The man frowned, pulling Damian closer and took another sip. Slade could see the problem.
“He has no partners?” Slade asked, as he placed his foot on his knee and leaned back, balancing his glass on his loafer. “No other Omegas he nests with?”
“He doesn’t nest,” Grayson spoke up from behind the air turning bitter with star anise, sour milk and chili mixing into the air. “Hasn’t once that we know of.”
Slade frowned, biting his tongue to chastise the Alphas, but that’s not why he was here, isn’t it? “So, that is something we’ll have to work on. Anything else I should know?”
“He is…” Wayne sighed, rubbing his forehead, the scent of stressed Alpha-stressed father, burnt ash seeping bitter in the back of his throat, the smell dissipating quickly as he got himself under control. “A special case as stated in the request. He… has refused any form of help. He locks himself in his room and… he’s heats are infrequent. And when they come, they are stressers.”
Wayne gulped down the rest of the amber liquid in his glass.
“I am worried about him, Slade,” The Alpha sighed, “If you could get him to nest once, and stay there, you would already be making a big difference.”
“You and I both know he won’t do it, Father,” Damin huffed, and Slade couldn’t help but take up the challenge.
“When do you need me to start?” Slade placed the glass on the desk, as he sat back in his seat.
Wayne opened a drawer, and pulled out his checkbook, scribbling quickly before tearing it out and holding it out to Slade. He leaned forward as Wayne refilled his own glass with a couple of fingers.
5 million. Cool, clean, more than double his usual fee for a one year contract.
“As soon as possible, Mister Willson.”
Slade pushed the check back over the table, “Take me to the Omega.”
“You don’t want the check?” Wayne frowned, leaning back into the chair.
“Well it would be useless to take your money if we’re not compatible.” Slade chuckled, “I hate giving back money.”
Wayne sighed and stood, motioning to the door behind him. “That way,” placing his glass on the table and lead him out. Slade did the same, and quickly followed him, tucking his box under his arm.
Wayne led him to up a long winding staircase, up two floors to the East wing.
The scent of burnt sugar, and gunpowder growing stronger and stronger with each step, until it seeped around them, reaching a crescendo when Wayne opened a none descript door leading to the Omega. As soon as he opened it, the scent of honeydew and fresh cotton burned his nose…
A bed stood in the middle of the room, with a lone omega curled up under a sheet. Books lying in piles around the ball, some open on the bedside table, the room illuminated by a single lamp next to the bed.
“Jason?” The Wayne Head called out to the Omega, both watching as he flinched under his sheets, “I am so glad you’re out of the tub, Jay-lad. I’ve brought someone to meet you.”
Tub? Slade threw a look at Wayne, seeing no hint of any falsehoods. This is more serious than he thought.
“Go ‘way,” a pained, panicked voice tried to demand.
“Now, don’t be like that lad, mister Willson has come all this way to meet you.” Wayne motioned for him to follow, stopping at the edge of the bed while Wayne stepped up right to the edge of the bed. “Won’t you say hello?”
“Don’ wann’,” Jason slurred, and wiggled deeper under the sheet. “Go ‘way…”
“Jay-lad, don’t be-” Slade held up his hand, as he stepped closer to the “nest”…
“I brought you something Jason,” Slade tried to speak as calmly as possible, placing the box on the bed. “I hope you’ll like it.”
When the boy didn’t react, he and Bruce retreated, closing the door behind them with a sigh. “We’ll know more in the morning.”
“And if it isn’t in the morning?” Wayne turned to him, fear in his eyes. “What if he never decides to call?”
“He will. You can contact my agent if he needs me,” Slade handed the Alpha Wintergreen’s card, “He’ll be able to get through to me.”
~
“Fuck it,” He threw it in on the conveyer belt, and glared the cashier down as she took her sweet time scanning his items. The boy has never refused a nesting blanket from him before. He definitely won’t start now…
He stuffed the items into the plastic bags, swiped his card and rushed back out of the store and into his car, placing the bag on the seat next to him, before grabbing the blanket, removing the cardboard band holding it together, and rubbed the soft fabric up and down the skin of his arms to try and get the “new” smell to fade as quickly as possible.
He rubbed it furiously against his scent glands, all the way to the outskirts of Gotham and down the road he took yesterday. He picked up his phone, and spoke into the speaker, “Wintergreen,” watching as the automatic dialing started, waiting only a few rings until the gruff Omega answered.
“And?”
“Put me through to Wayne, I haven’t saved his number yet,” Slade shifted in his seat, bundling the blanket between his legs and squeezed the soft fabric between his thighs, and humped, trying to get as much of his scent into the fabric as quickly as possible, side from just pissing on the thing.
The man on the other end grunted, and the phone started ringing again. Once, twice, thrice, fourth until the Beta butler answered, frazzled, “Wayne residence. Pennyworth speaking.”
“Mister Pennyworth, this is Slade Wilson form yesterday,” Slade tried to be as calm as possible, continuing to hump the blanket, “Wintergreen has placed this call, I am sorry I might be—”
The line seemed to cut off for a moment, until Wayne spoke; “Willson? I am sorry about the short notice, but how quickly can you get here?”
“I’m well on my way, give or take ten minutes,” Slade huffed, and pressed his foot against the gas pedal, c’mon, c’mon… “How’s Jason?”
“Worse than when we first called.” Wayne sighed, “He’s been whining, I-” He took a deep breath, and was silent for a moment, before he spoke again, “I have never seen him like this. He’s usually so quiet… What did you do?”
Slade tried not to sigh too loudly. Alpha parents – they never pay enough attention to their Omega kids until some knothead walks in…
“I think I just awoke some of his latent Omega instincts, he’ll be fine,” Slade sighed, and took off his jacket, “Clear the wing, try to avoid any strong smells, it’ll just make him more uncomfortable.”
“We already cleared it all out. He’s –” Wayne cleared his throat, “He’s refused to nest with any of us. Not even the pup.”
“I’m pulling up to Mercy Road, I’ll be there in –” He slammed his foot on the gas and humped against the blanket again, “Ten minutes.”
“Hurry,” was all the man said, before he hung up.
Slade threw his phone in the passenger seat, before stepping on the gas, breaking every law that existed on the books to get there as soon as possible, pulling up into the drive way, chucking the blanket over his shoulders before grabbing the grocery bag, and his duffle bag before throwing the car door open.
The front door was thrown open, the butler motioning him inside, the panic written on his face clear as day.
“Hurry mister Wilson, it is worse than we feared.”
Slade barged through the door and straight up the stairs, following the scent of burnt sugar, taking the stairs three at a time, finding Wayne stationed in front of the Omega’s door, pacing back and forth as his eldest tried coax the Omega to let them in.
“Little Wing,” the voice was unnaturally soft for such a large man, motioning for Slade to come closer. “Can we come in? We have someone here for you.”
“Dicky-bird?” The responding voice was soft too, and tired, and small… “Dn’t wanna.”
“C’mon, Little Wing,” The Alpha cooed, twisting the door as they came closer, peaking his head in. “Please?”
They followed Grayson in, the room reeking of heat-sick, a whine echoing from the bed.
“Jay-lad,” Wayne rumbled, as he tried to keep his scent under control, “We’ve brought Mister Wilson, he’s here to help.”
When the boy didn’t respond, Wayne sighed; “We’ll leave you to it, Mister Wilson”, and filed out with his brood, closing the door – no lock.
As soon as the door closed, Slade put down the bags and walked over to the bed, “Hello, Omega. Have you been good?”
~*
Wintergreen contacted him a week later.
“You’re booked for a proper meeting with Wayne’s Omega,” There was a shuffling of pages. “At oh-nine-hundred hours.”
“So soon?” He poured the hot water over the instant coffee as he looked up to the clock on his wall.
“Yep, the boy liked your scent, apparently.” The clack-click-clack of computer keys in the background continued. “The Omega asked that you not wear scent blockers this time, wanted to know what you really smelt like.”
“Can do,” He stirred his spoon in his cup, “Anything else I need to know about?”
“Wayne warned you not to try anything stupid,” Billy laughed, “Like you would do something like that.”
“Mmm,” Slade hung up as he took a sip of his black gold – fuck oil barons and their snooty attitude, coffee is where the real key to happiness lies, and it stops you from bludgeoning someone to death, so that’s a bonus. He debated pouring the rest of the hot water into the glass jar of coffee crumbs but decided against it, sipping his brew.
“Well, if I’m going to be meeting with some snooting rich, potential nest mate, better make it look good.” He said to no one in particular, as he turned to his walk-in bathroom and fiddled with the dials and taps, turning on the water and let steam fill the room, before turning to his closet and started picking out a suit.
Once he was satisfied with his selection, he finished his coffee and turned to his shower, washing his hair then stepping out to trim his beard and get dressed, choosing only neutral scents for his deodorant, and beard oil, humming as he threw them into the toiletry bag and into his duffle.
Grabbing and heating up a breakfast burrito, he packed his satchel with his tablet, ready to get the boy’s wants, and needs down to paper as soon as possible.
The drive to the estate was easy, giving Slade a chance to finish his breakfast and pop a couple of breath mints before even arriving – arriving even earlier than expected, no thanks to the GPS (just in case he got lost – he’s still new to this route).
Once again, the butler answered the door as he rang the bell.
“Good to see you again sir, this way – the master is waiting in the sun room with refreshments.” The man closed the door behind them, “Please, follow me.”
The butler took him through the pallor into a hallway and kept going, all the way to the other end of the house, as Slade tried to smell the Omega, something that would give him an idea if they would be compatible or not – nothing but the sour scent of a distressed Omega coming out of an unsatisfying heat, overlaid by the stench of an overprotective pack, and a stressed Pack Alpha.
The butler knocked on the door, “Master Bruce, Mister Wilson is here to see the young master.”
“Come in Alfred,” The heir of the Wayne fortune called out, clearly tired and anxious.
The butler proceeded to open the doors, and announce his presence like some ridiculous lord from kingdoms longs since gone.
Slade scanned the area, looking for the distressed Omega – noting but his pack being over protective as they hovered around a couch on the other side of the study. Blue eyes glaring at him as he stepped further into the room.
“Slade,” Wayne stepped forward, holding out his hand. “Thank you for coming on such short notice. It was rather urgent, you see.”
Slade shook the billionaire playboy’s hand, and followed him deeper into the room.
“Of course, no trouble.”
“Please, come meet my son,” He led Slade to the couch, shoulders tense as the unknown Alpha stepped deeper into his den.
They rounded the couch, and stopped in front of the Heat Sick Omega. He was… fucking gorgeous.
Thick, messy black hair, scruffed up like a halo, the white tuff of hair a crown over his pale forehead, curling around his ears. The Omega looked up, large blue eyes bore into his soul (dark bags under those too pretty eyes made Slade’s stomach churn), pouty lips that look like they could use a proper kiss or two, high cheek bones and nose that looks like it was broken once too many.
“Jason,” Wayne’s voice was that of a calm Alpha father, as he glided over to where his son was waiting, placing a soothing hand on the boy’s shoulder. “This is Slade Willson.”
The boy frowned – until he sniffed the air, and locked onto Slade.
“You’re the Alpha,” The boy’s voice was shaky, tired. The dark blue cotton blanket hung off his shoulders. “The –”
His slim, shaky fingers tapped the blanket, and pulled it closer around himself.
“Yes,” Slade smiled, and stepped forward, taking a seat on the footstool at the edge of the couch. “How are you feeling? Your father said you have been quite ill.”
The boy, Jason, glared at Wayne – before sighing and his shoulders dropped.
“What else did he tell you?” He didn’t look at Slade at all.
“Just that he’s worried about you,” He took a step forward, then another and another, only stopping until he was in front of the boy.
Slipping his fingers under the kid’s chin, forcing him to look at him. Damn, what a pretty boy…
“He doesn’t want to see you suffer, you know.”
“He never gave a fuck about me before,” Jason ripped his chin away, and curled deeper under his blanket.
“Jason-” Wayne stepped closer, trying to comfort the Omega.
“No, you didn’t!” Jason glared at them from under his blanket, and started screaming at the top of his lungs: “If you did, you would have taken responsibility and helped me! Not after I fucking crumbled during a fucking party in front of your guest, but before! Get out! Get out! Alfred! Alfred! Get him out of here! Get them out! Alfred!”
Tears streamed down his face as the Beta came rushing into the room, calming the boy before shuffling the Alphas out of the room, slamming the door in their faces with a displeased huff. The hiccups continued as the Beta shushed the boy.
Wayne sighed, his shoulders dropping; “I’m sorry, he-”
“It’s all right, he’s clearly distressed.” Slade didn’t allow him to finish. “I’ll send more blankets, its clear he needs them.”
He let himself out.
Weeks passed, and Slade bought more and more blankets to send to the Omega. Some were returned, some weren’t – one or two missing from the pile he had delivered at the mansion. It wasn’t long until Slade recognized a pattern: Big, thin ones that could cover a king sized bed or thick, furry ones in muted shades of grey and blue that barley covered a twin. Soft goat hair blankets scented by Slade carrying the damn thing over his shoulders before truly waking up – penetrating the soft fibers with calm, sleepy-Alpha scent.
He dropped it off personally – the Beta greeting him formally at the door, exchanging small talk as the blankets exchanged hands. The Beta smiling, clearly pleased that he had figured out the game.
The next time he delivered more nesting material, the scent of heat, want, need coated in thick Omega – Jason… even before the door opened. His mouth watered at the scent that burned at the back of his throat.
It wasn’t long after that, he sent the blue and green patch work quilt that he used during his last rut, right after being bolted from the Omega’s den.
It was probably one of the worse ruts he has ever experienced since his hormonal, teenage-Alpha years – the Omega’s heat scent fresh in his mind. So near, yet so fucking far… The only thing that stopped him from marching over to the Wayne mansion was the fact that he’s pretty sure Wayne would deck him as soon as he smelt a rutting Alpha near his den.
If Wayne realized that his son was nesting with an Alpha’s Rutting material, he didn’t say a thing about it. Billy didn’t call to shit him out about it, so he might have been okay, and the boy didn’t mind.
He came out of his rut with a dissatisfying wet dream.
The Omega presents so nicely, slick leaking down his pretty thighs, his pretty cunt swollen and red, rubbed raw against the harsh blankets beneath him – his hips propped up by pillows as he called out to him – “Alphaa!”
He woke up.
His cum sticking to his stomach and thighs as he rutted his knot against nothing, hissing as the cold of the air conditioner hit against his swollen knot. He quickly fisted the organ, and humped into his hand a couple of times, squeezing, as the last drops of cum spirted out of the tip.
Slade rinsed himself down with a quick shower, before boxing up the quilt to send to the Omega.
He wasn’t usually this persistent, but the boy’s scent screamed “help” (even if it was mostly in his dreams) and Slade would give it to him, whatever he wanted, one way or the other…
~
Jason’s head shot up from underneath his blankets – white steak of hair sticking up in all directions, the heat-sick blue-green eyes locking with Slade as he let out a keen. Not as highly pitched as other Omegas might, but the same tone as a desperate Omega would make to entice an Alpha – I’m here, see me, come to me … Not the soft chirps an Omega-mate would make to lead their Alpha to nest but the desperate begging of an Omega in heat… Breed me…
“Hello Jason,” Slade purred, releasing the heavy scent of pleased Alpha – old blood, coffee, and the potent smell of Alpha – making the Omega’s mouth water. “I brought you something.”
He knelt and held up the scented blanket – the Omega’s eyes widened, the black of his pupils engulfing the blue of his eyes completely, honeydew leaking into the air as he inched closer. The soft scent of fresh cotton completely overpowered by the gun powder. A soft trill of chirps left his mouth as he leaned forward, calling the Alpha closer.
Slade held it out on the tips of his fingers – the Omega reached out with shaky fingers, and pulled the blanket under his quilt with a soft, happy chirp and a purr.
The soft purring of a happy Omega spread through the room, bouncing off the books, until the big eyes of his m-, nest mate appeared from under the quilt.
“Are you staying?”
“Yes, Jase,” He ran his fingers through the soft hairs, “I’m staying.”
The Omega lifted the blankets, watching as the Alpha stripped down and slid between the sheets. He wasted no time in burrowing into the Alpha’s arms and letting out a soft, happy chirp – safe, happy, warm, mate…
He would allow that – allow the boy the comfort, before he comes to his right mind. “I’m here Jason, don’t worry. Sleep, Omega.”
The Omega let out a soft happy purr, Slade smiling into the soft silky hair - I'm ruined...