Chapter Text
Stan arrived to class early. Although he wasn’t excited to be taking an Omega 101 class it was a reason to get away from his pack, and at this point anything was better than hanging around that fucking house. Besides arriving early had some other perks. For example he was able to choose from any seat he liked. He ended up picking a seat near the front of the lecture hall since it would look good to be sitting there attentively. Henry, he refused to call him his alpha, would like that.
Suddenly a familiar scent reached Stan, and all at once the memories he had worked so hard to bury began to resurface. He tried to school his response. Hopefully the other omega couldn’t smell his panic.
“Stan?” He could hear the disbelief and hope in the speaker’s tone.
Stan looked up to find Eddie Kaspbrack standing above him. Immediately his eyes searched the juncture of Eddie’s neck and shoulder looking for where Bill would have left his bonding mark. He was surprised to find Eddie’s skin unmarked. So they hadn’t bonded yet. He wasn’t even wearing a collar to show that he was promised to an alpha. Stan tried not to read too much into that. Instead he focused on what he must look like to Eddie: wearing long sleeves even though the heat of summer had yet to dissipate, a leather collar fastened tightly around his neck, dark circles under his eyes. What must Eddie think of him? What did the others think of him? He tried to push away the thoughts of his old pack and focused on the young man in front of him.
“Hi, Eddie.”
Eddie shifted his weight uncomfortably clearly trying to get a read on the situation without blatantly scenting Stan. It would be rude to just assume that because they had been close he would be allowed to do something so intimate. And besides there was something hostile in Stan. His posture was defensive. Closed off. Eddie wondered if living with Bowers had changed him, if he had become one of them. So Eddie stood just out of reach staring at the stranger who used to be one of his closest friends.
“Do you mind if I sit here?” Eddie asked, gesturing to the seat beside Stan.
Stan shrugged before turning to look out the window.
Eddie tried not to sigh. He hadn’t been expecting to run into Stan. He wasn’t sure if he should start up a conversation or just let the awkward silence hang between them. With Stan turned away from him he was able to study the young man freely. Beyond the defensive posture there had been a haunted look in Stan’s eye. Eddie wondered if he was sleeping well. If Henry was treating him properly? The collar had been a shock. Eddie hadn’t expected to see Stan give in so easily. What was Bill going to think? Christ. Eddie was going to have to tell Bill about this. His thought began to run a mile a minute. He wondered how his pack’s leader was going to take Stan’s subservience to Henry. Oh God, Bill. What would he do in this situation? Eddie knew the answer. Bill would talk to Stan, demand answers. Only Bill wasn’t here. It was just Eddie. His breathing started to increase, soon he was going to need his inhaler. He realized that he needed to find out more, if only to bring peace of mind to his pack. He forced himself to calm down before starting with the obvious.
“So, Stan, how are things?” Eddie asked.
Stan was slow to respond. At first Eddie wasn’t sure if the other boy had heard him. Before he could ask the question again Stan turned in his seat to face Eddie.
“Why do you want to know?”
Eddie floundered a bit. He thought it was obvious, “because we’re friends.”
Stan let out a dry laugh. “Friends?”
“Yeah don’t you remember –”
“Yeah I remember. I remember a lot of things.” How you adored Bill. How he looked at you when he thought I wasn’t looking. How you all let Henry claim me. Stan began to smell the hurt souring his scent. He did his best to regain control over his emotions. After spending so much time with Henry he had gotten good at hiding how he was truly feeling. He began to disconnect from the conversation, slowly pulling the plugs until he had fully withdrawn into himself – like a small balloon floating in the wind – no longer a part of his body. He watched himself from the safety of his bubble and was sure that Eddie hadn’t picked up on a thing.
“Well then how are you?” Eddie asked.
“Fine.”
“That’s good. I’m glad you’re doing well.”
By now other students had begun to filter into the room. The inoffensive scent of the cleaning supplies began to be muddied by the other omegas. Stan noticed distantly that most of them were wearing collars. All of them forced into taking the class just so they could get a decent education before they were turned into mindless breeding machines. A class to teach them all about pleasing their alphas, how to handle their alphas’ ruts, how to carry litters to term, how to raise their pups. Stan began to feel his heart pound at the thought of carrying Henry’s pups inside him. The panic and fear that arose in him felt distant like it was happening to someone else. He focused on the balloon floating in his head. Here he was safe. Here it wasn’t happening to him, not really. It was some other version of him, his body, not the him that counted. Not the real him, the one that desired an alpha that cared for him. An alpha that would protect him, and show his pleasure through praise. Stan wanted to please that alpha so badly. He wanted that alpha to bond him and mate him. He needed to belong to an alpha that was strong enough to protect his pack and defend what was his. He wanted to carry that alpha’s litters, to be able to raise their pups together and to know that he was safe. While Henry might have control over the false-Stan, it was this ideal alpha that possessed the part of Stan that was really him. He had to believe in that otherwise he would have to accept the fact that Henry really was his alpha and that what was happening to him was real. To accept that would mean accepting death, and that was the one thing Stan wouldn’t allow.
Eddie watched as Stan zoned out in front of him. He was desperate to get the other boy’s attention. He had to find out more, but after the strange interaction which had just occurred he wasn’t sure what to say. He was aware of the other students filing in, the easy chatter filled the air. Determined to try again Eddie reached out. He placed his hand on Stan’s wrist causing the other boy to jump.
“Are you okay? You kinda spaced out on me,” Eddie said.
Stan pulled his hand away like he had been burned. He couldn’t let Henry or the others smell Eddie on him. “I’m fine.”
“Alright. You know the others miss you.”
Stan tensed in his seat.
“I bet if Richie were here he would make some dumb joke that would get you to roll your eyes, but you’d secretly love it. Or if it were Mike and Ben they would make you feel instantly comfortable, like no time had passed. You’d be conversing with them no problem. Or Beverly would know how to make easy conversation that wasn’t as awkward as I’m being right now. And Bill –”
“Don’t.” Stan gripped the desk tightly. The balloon in his head began trying to float closer to the surface of his consciousness. His stupid omega hindbrain wanted to know what Eddie was going to say about Bill. It wanted to bask in the warmth and kindness of the alpha. Instead he reminded himself that Bill had abandoned him. He had chosen Eddie. The balloon full of hope retreated, deflating slightly at his vicious remarks. He was getting sloppy.
“Stan whatever is going on –”
“Nothing is going on.”
“I don’t think that’s true.”
“Honestly it doesn’t matter what you think.”
Eddie snapped his mouth shut.
Stan closed his eyes and let out a breath. “I’m sorry, Eddie. I’m just here to learn to be good. That’s all I want. No trouble. Okay?”
Eddie bit his lip. He wasn’t sure why the fire had gone out of Stan, but he didn’t like this side of Stan that was begging to be good. Begging to be left alone. It worried him. He would have preferred if Stan continued to fight back, at least then he would know that there was a part of Stan that could still fight back.
Before he could say more their professor stepped into the room.
Doctor Norbert Keene was a beta who had received his doctorate in omega studies. He believed that he knew what made the submissive species tick better than they did themselves. It was his responsibility to teach them to be obedient, good, little omegas in order that they might please their alphas. He looked out into a sea of collared throats and was pleased. Only one boy, sitting in the front row, was without a collar. He scanned down his attendance list and found that he knew the boy instantly.
Before the semester had begun one Kaspbrak, Edward had emailed him about signing up for the class. While it was required for all omegas to be full-time students to be registered for an omega-centric course, Mr. Kaspbrak had emailed to ask if it was really necessary to have an alpha sign off on his course load, arguing that it was archaic and backwards. Doctor Keene had replied to say that Mr. Kaspbak’s argument was proof enough that he needed to take this course, and that yes an alpha must sign off on it. If he didn’t like, Doctor Keene had written, then he could try to apply to another university; although, the admission deadlines had long since passed. Within a week Mr. Kaspbrak had signed up for the course, registered to a William Denbrough. Doctor Keene would need to keep an eye on him to ensure that he did not go poisoning the rest of his class with his ideas of equality.
His gaze drifted to the boy besides Mr. Kaspbrak. This boy’s eyes were downcast, head bowed slightly. A perfect specimen of his breed, perhaps if Mr. Kaspbrak was wise he would follow this student’s example.
“Good afternoon, class. I am Doctor Keene and this is Omega Studies 101. In this course we will be studying how your body chemistry is complementary to that of your alpha. This will lead us to discuss scenting, mating, and pair-bonding. We will also cover heats and ruts, as well as conception of litters, and pup rearing. While this is just an overview, I expect you to all take this course seriously. With the decline of omegas it is important that you breed with compatible alphas in order to save the species. This means you must have as many healthy litters as possible. Your duty to society is the bearing of pups. It is this important task that you are destined for, anything else is selfish.”
Eddie raised his hand.
“Mr. Kaspbrak?”
“I don’t think it’s selfish to want to be more than a receptacle for cum.”
Stan turned to stare. What the hell was Eddie thinking?
“That is enough, Mr. Kaspbrak.”
“Omega’s should have more rights than that. They should be able to take the classes they want without needing an alpha’s permission.”
The room stirred uneasily.
“Shut up,” Stan whispered.
“You should listen to your friend.”
“We’re not friends.” Stan said.
Now it was Eddie’s turn to stare.
“What’s your name?” Doctor Keene asked.
Stan flushed. “Stanley Uris.”
Doctor Keene looked down at his roster before turning his thin smile on Stan. “Very good, Mr. Uris.”
The praise sounded hollow at best. Stan ducked his head eager for attention to be drawn away from him. Doctor Keene marked a star by Mr. Uris’ name, he was going to make an example of this omega. It would be good for the others to learn from him. Mr. Bowers had clearly trained him well.
“Now ignoring the crude interruption we shall begin this lecture by talking about the alpha/omega dynamic. An alpha’s biology tells them that they must protect their pack at all costs, and above that all they must protect their omega. It is your scent which first draws your alpha to you, and it is your scent that tells them how you are feeling. Scent is a powerful thing. That is why it is rude to scent someone you don’t know well. It’s invasive. That’s something you’ve been taught since you were pups. But there is more to scenting than just finding out how someone is feeling.”
Stan began taking careful notes as Doctor Keene spoke. In his peripheral he could see Eddie leaning back in his chair, head raised defiantly. Clearly he was proud of not being collared, of having spoken up in front of the whole class. He didn’t even have the decency to have a notebook open in front of him. Stan wondered what Bill even saw in him.
“Scenting can tell you if your mate will make a good bond mate. The stronger and better your alpha’s scent is to you, the more likely you are bond mates. Bond mates are powerful things. Once an alpha has bitten your bonding gland it cannot be undone, you are tied to one another. These days bond mates aren’t as encouraged as they used to be. It is more important for packs to have litters, and if it needs to be via multiple alphas than so be it. Alphas may not like it, due to their possessive nature, but it is your duty to convince your alpha that it is necessary for the survival of the species.”
Eddie raised his hand.
Doctor Keene ignored him.
Eddie coughed.
“Yes?”
“Isn’t that dangerous for the omega?”
“Isn’t what dangerous for the omega?”
“Having so many partners in such a short time span?” Eddie wasn’t advocating for monogamy, he didn’t care if omegas chose to have multiple partners. What he was worried about was the pairings that were non-consensual. He knew that there were certain risks to the omega’s mental and physical health if they were forced to carry litters with multiple alphas with little time in between. The bond that formed between the alphas and omega would be torn away with each subsequent breeding leaving the omega emotionally unmoored and distant. On top of that there had been studies that said that occasionally alphas had rejected their omegas after they had been bred by another alpha. They no longer recognized their mate, and therefore rejected them from their pack. The only cases where this had not occurred was with bond mates; however, the recovery time for the omega was still a long one. And that didn’t even begin to cover the physical health risks of carrying multiple litters to term one after another.
“It’s about the survival of the species.” Doctor Keene said turning away dismissively.
“And what about the survival of those already living? Do we not matter?” Eddie asked.
Doctor Keene looked at Eddie. “Very well, Mr. Kaspbrak. Let’s try a little experiment. Tell me about your pack.”
“What?”
“How many omegas are there?”
Eddie looked to Stan before looking forward. “Just me.”
“I see. And what about betas?”
“We have three.”
“Alphas?”
“Two.”
Doctor Keene’s eyes lit up. “Two alphas, and only a single omega to bear the litter. Are you telling me that you wouldn’t submit to both your alphas should they require it?”
Eddie blushed for the first time, he looked away.
“Well?”
“I wouldn’t do it.”
“What was that?” Doctor Keene asked.
Eddie could feel everyone’s eyes on him, but the only pair that mattered belonged to the boy beside him. He looked directly at Stan as he spoke. “I wouldn’t mate with someone I don’t love.”
Eddie hoped that Stan understood, but all that was in front of him was an omega in pain. Eddie wondered what he had said that had hurt the other omega so badly.
Doctor Keene turned away. “What about you, Mr. Uris? Tell us about your pack.”
Stan snapped to attention. Eddie caught the barest traces of fear rolling off Stan before the other boy could hide it.
“There are two alphas and two betas, sir.”
“And if your alphas required it, would you carry both their litters?”
“Yes.” Stan said not meeting Eddie’s gaze.
“As you should,” Doctor Keene said with all the kindness he possessed. He turned his attention back to the class. “This is what a good omega must do. Mr. Kaspbrak has been misinformed. There are no dangers to mating with multiple alphas.”
Eddie stared at Stan as Doctor Keene continued on with his lecture. The Stan he remembered had believed in bond mates ever since he was young. What had caused this reversal? Eddie wasn’t sure that he was equipped to find out. For some reason, Stan wasn’t willing to open up to him. He wondered vaguely what he could have done to cause the other boy’s apparent distrust. Eddie was sure the others could do a better job at getting Stan to open up. They had always been better at those sorts of things. He resolved to catch Stan before class was over and ask him over to the pack’s den.
Eddie tuned out the rest of Doctor Keene’s lecture. He had no interest in learning more about how scents could indicate oncoming heats or ruts. Instead he focused on Stan’s bent head, the neat notes in blue pen, and the inevitable invitation.
The bell rang signaling the end of class. No one moved or began packing up their things, Doctor Keene smiled. Perhaps they had been trained better than he expected.
“Please read the handout by Doctor Gray on the risks of untreated heats for next class. You are dismissed.”
The students began to pack up. Stan packed his things up swiftly, careful not to look at Eddie. Once he was done he hurried out of the classroom before Eddie had the chance to say anything. Eddie grabbed his backpack and hurried after Stan. He followed Stan through the halls until they were on the front steps of the building.
“Hey! Stan wait up!” Eddie said, running to catch up with him. He did his best to ignore the burning ache in his lungs.
Stan turned, absolute horror written across his face. “Stop following me.”
It became too much. Eddie gasped for air. He took a hit from his inhaler before speaking. “Look I just wanted to see if you wanted to come over? The others would love to see you.”
“I can’t.”
“Bill won’t even be there if that’s what you’re worried about. He’s got work until five,” Eddie said misinterpreting Stan’s tone.
“It’s not that. I have to get back and start making dinner for my pack.”
Eddie glanced at his watch. It was only 2 pm. “You have to make dinner for your entire pack?”
Stan nodded. “Belch is picking me up. You shouldn’t be talking to me when he gets here.”
“Okay, maybe some other time?”
Eddie watched Stan go down the steps. He knew that some omegas liked to prepare food for their alphas as a way to show they cared, but he hadn’t heard of an omega preparing food for their entire pack. Eddie thought that if his pack expected him to cook for all of them every day they would be shit out of luck. Lord knew Richie could eat enough alone to eat them out of house and home. Eddie’s inner omega perked up at the thought of preparing Richie’s meals. He pushed the enthusiasm away with disgust. Eddie watched as a restored 1958 Plymouth Fury pulled up to the curb. Stan got in the front seat without once looking back.
“Who the fuck were you talking to?” Belch asked once Stan was in the car.
“No one.”
Belch looked over at Stan and grunted, apparently they were done talking. Stan looked out the window and let the balloon float away.
Their apartment was cold. No matter how much Stan tried to warm it up, no matter how many times he redecorated, no matter what he did. It was always cold and gray and totally, horrifically empty. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Stan can’t help but wonder what the Losers’ apartment looked like. He was sure it was warm and homey and, immediately, he felt homesick for a place he’d never been.
He forced those emotions to the back of his head. If he started to long for the Losers - if he started to long for Bill - he would crumble. All the years he had spent building up a wall inside his head would have been for nothing. He had spent enough time locking himself in the bathroom to cry when he was first forced into this god awful pack, he can’t go through that phase again. It’s not like Bill had cried for him.
Belch didn’t say a word to him as they entered the apartment, instead going to slouch down on the couch and flip through the TV without ever settling on a channel. The noise had driven Stan crazy when he first arrived, but by now it had become a welcome background noise. Something to focus on without having to actually leave himself at the mercy of his own thoughts.
Vic came home next. He didn’t spare Stan a glance, but made sure to loudly remind him, “I don’t like when you put olives in the pasta,” as he passed. Which is a shame, because Henry would whine for days if Stan forgot the olives.
“Alright,” Stan replied, if only because Vic would tattle to one of the alphas if he didn’t.
He set about making a separate batch for Vic, this one free of olives. Bitterly, Stan couldn’t help but think to himself how easy it would be to just pick out the goddamned olives. But Vic had reminded him over, and over, and over again that the taste supposedly lingers even with the olives removed.
“It’s really just easier if you make a separate batch,” he had said.
Stan couldn’t help but disagree, though he kept this opinion very much to himself.
Patrick came home a few minutes later. Stan didn’t hear him, so much as pick up a whiff of something rotten and decaying before a pair of hands were gripping his hips, pulling him swiftly against Patrick’s chest.
“What’re you making?” Patrick asked, smirking.
“Pasta salad,” Stan said. He pried at Patrick’s fingers, but it only caused Patrick to tighten his grip. Huffing, Stan reminded him, “You have to let me go. I can’t let the food burn.”
“But I had such a hard day,” Patrick said, lips twisting into a pout. His breath was hot against Stan’s neck, just above the collar, and a few years ago Stan would have cringed away from the rancid smell. But he knew better now.
“I’m sorry,” Stan said. The words seemed to drain the rest of the fight out of him, the husk of the man he once was going limp in Patrick’s grip.
Patrick hummed. “Good Omega.”
For a single, mortifying moment, Stan found himself basking in the praise. But the feeling was quickly squashed under the reality of his situation, replaced by an icy cold feeling. It invaded his veins, freezing his blood and numbing his extremities. All he had ever wanted was to be good. But he had wanted to be good for an alpha who loved him. An alpha who would protect him. An alpha who saw him as more than just a living fuck toy.
Patrick was not that alpha.
One hand traveled up and off Stan’s hip, fingertips slipping under the hem of Stan’s shirt instead. The touch made Stan shudder, and for a moment fear came rolling off him in waves. He quickly schooled his emotions back into check, but it was enough for Patrick to know. Which always made it worse. Stan was positive Patrick fed off Stan’s fear, that anything and everything he did to him was just to see Stan’s eyes widen and heartbeat quicken.
The door slammed open a moment later. Henry’s familiar scent came wafting through the apartment, and immediately Stan lifted his head to give Henry his best help me eyes.
Unfortunately, Henry was not his saving grace. His shoulder came to rest against the kitchen doorway, his eyes watching Patrick toy with Stan with something akin to amusement.
“You go to the omega class today?” he asked. No, not asked, confirmed. Henry had always had the fear that Stan would run off or abandon the pack. Stan supposed Henry had good reason for his fears, Stan had spent a good amount of time daydreaming about disappearing in the dead of night and showing up on the Losers’ doorstep. In his imagination, they would welcome him with open arms and swear to protect him from Henry. But he had never acted on these daydreams, and soon they became too painful to even think about.
Stan nodded. “Yes.” Henry’s eyebrows shot up, disappearing into his hairline. It’s obvious what Henry wanted, and though it made Stan sick, he forced himself to swallow his pride and continue, “Yes, Alpha.”
Henry smirked, clearly pleased by Stan’s obedience. “How was it?”
“Fine,” Stan said. “Just introduction stuff.”
“Right, well, I’m expecting it to fix you up.” The way Henry said it, plain as day, as if there was something wrong with Stan, made shivers run down Stan’s spine. There was something innately cruel about Henry’s voice. Something that made Stan want to run and hide.
It was that cruelness that had made Stan cower from him in high school. But a few months alone in an apartment with Henry had taught Stan not to cower. It had fixed him right up.
“It will,” Stan promised. “I’ll be good.”
He glanced nervously towards the pasta. Henry sighed, gesturing for Patrick to release him.
Stan bolted out of Patrick’s arms, nearly tripping over his own two feet in his haste to return to the pasta. Luckily, the pasta had not burned yet. But as Stan was rushing to pour the potfull into the strainer, he passed directly by Henry. He had barely made it a step before Henry grabbed his wrist, holding him firmly in place.
“What’s that smell?”
Stan eyed him nervously. “What smell?”
Henry sniffed the air. Brought Stan’s wrist closer to his nose. Sniffed again. “It’s sort of fruity.”
“Must be someone in my class,” Stan shrugged, doing his best to keep his face blank.
For a single, horrifying moment, Stan was sure he had been found out. Henry knew about Eddie, Henry knew he had gone against his wishes and spoken to them. Henry knew-
Henry dropped his wrist. “Must be.” He glanced at the pot still gripped between Stan’s hands. “Hurry up, I’m starving.”
-
The Losers’ apartment was filled with a warm glow. Upon moving in, they had all taken the time to decorate accordingly. Pictures of the six of them adorned the walls, various decor scattered throughout the rooms. Richie had even managed to find a leg lamp similar to the one in A Christmas Story, which he proudly displayed in front of the window in their living room. Their apartment, even if it was perhaps a tad too small for all six of them, had quickly become their happy place.
Currently, Mike and Ben were laying across each other on the couch; Bev, on the floor next to the couch, leaned happily against it as she played a rather aggressive game of footsie with Richie, who was sitting on the floor against the cushy armchair in the corner. Curled up on said chair was Eddie, watching his pack with a fond smile on his face. They had all had their first days today and, much to Eddie’s dismay, none of the others had quite an unfortunate encounter as he had had with Doctor Keene.
Ben’s architecture class had left him with the biggest grin Eddie had ever seen aside from every single time he looked at Beverly. Mike’s history course had caused him to immediately set out to find the campus library, checking out enough books to last him a month. Bev’s fashion and design professor had told her she was the most talented student she had seen in nearly a decade. Richie’s theatre professor had applauded him for his natural outspokenness and go-getter attitude. And Bill...Bill hadn’t been seen since that morning.
On one hand, Bill’s absence was a blessing. If Bill wasn’t around, Eddie wouldn’t have to worry about his reaction to Stan being in Omega 101. On the other hand, it would be nice to have a welcoming pair of arms to dive into, ones that he knew he could let his guard down around. And while he would love for Richie to be the one he turned to, the very thought of being vulnerable around the alpha was terrifying.
He had always felt something more for Richie. Something that made his heart beat a little faster
and palms a little sweaty. And if he allowed himself to crawl into his arms, how long would it be before he came running to him for every little problem. And from there, how long until Richie started to see him, much like Doctor Keene did, as a cum bucket useful for nothing but the next litter of pups.
No, it was too risky. No matter how many times Richie made him laugh until his sides hurt. No matter how many times he made him smile so wide he was sure his face would crack in half. No matter how many times he seemed to prove, over and over again, that he saw Eddie as his equal. Eddie couldn’t risk losing all that.
Bill was his friend. Bill wouldn’t expect anything from him. Bill wouldn’t judge him for being weak.
But, back to more important problems. Stan. Stan had been in Omega 101. Stan was here. Stan was here and he was miserable.
Of course Eddie wanted to help him. He wanted to help him more than anything. But there were factors that had to be considered, factors that needed to be thought out before he dumped it on his friends.
Even if Bill wasn’t around, even if Eddie didn’t have to worry about his reaction. He still had to worry about Richie’s reaction. Richie who had lost his best friend. Richie who had only recently come to terms with it. Richie, who was currently animatedly describing his first day of classes.
“And we had to buy a whole book about this Meisner guy, he apparently, like, invented theatre or something-”
“No way he invented theatre,” Mike said, wiggling his toes in Ben’s face. The other boy screwed up his face in disgust, trying to bat away Mike’s feet. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Okay, he didn’t invent it,” Richie said. “But he did invent this whole technique. It basically reinvented everything about acting-”
“You’re not even gonna be an actor, Chee,” Eddie said, not bothering to hide his laughter.
Richie turned to face him, a wide and easy grin spread across his face. “Hey, you don’t know that. I could be the next Ryan Gosling.”
Eddie only laughed harder. “No way!”
“Yes way! Just you watch, I’m gonna bring home my first monologue and it’ll be so sexy you’ll slick your pants right here in the living room.”
“Okay, first of all, that’s disgusting,” Eddie said, the wrinkle of his nose making Richie dissolve into giggles. “Second of all, that’s not how acting works.”
“Yeah, well, you wouldn’t know, would you?” Richie grinned. “You’re not taking theatre.”
“Yeah, instead I’m taking fucking Omega 101 with Doctor Keene.” Eddie spat out the professor’s name like it was poison, his face screwed up as if it had left a bad taste in his mouth.
All sense of humor immediately dissolved from Richie’s face. It had always been a mystery to Eddie how he did that, going from cracking jokes at Eddie’s expense to looking like he would burn down the world for him. “Class didn’t go so well, huh?”
Eddie shook his head. “The professor’s an asshole. One of those people who thinks omegas are nothing but breeding machines.”
“That’s such bullshit,” Bev piped up. “You’re not just some fucking machine.”
“Yeah, well, apparently that isn’t what a majority of the population thinks,” Eddie said, doing his best not to sound bitter. Apparently he didn’t do a very good job, because a moment later Richie laid his head on Eddie’s thighs, his hand wrapping around Eddie’s calf and his thumb rubbing soothing circles along the skin.
“You only have to be there for one semester,” he said. The soft tone of his voice sent a jolt through Eddie, spiking through his heart and pooling in his stomach. It took everything in him to keep from purring. “After that you can happily tell this Doctor Keene to go fuck himself, and you’ll be a free man.”
Eddie chuckled quietly, admittedly soothed by Richie’s...everything. “I wish it was that easy.”
“Sorry, Eddie,” Mike said, a rather sad smile gracing his lips. “You know, just because they say all that, it doesn’t mean it’s true.
“Yeah, I know,” Eddie mumbled. “But it’s awful to hear. And most of the omegas in that class are going to believe it! Including-”
The words were swept from his mouth by the sound of a door swinging open. The entire pack seemed to perk up at the sound, Bill’s scent wafting in from the doorway. A moment later he grinned down at them, looking exhausted but otherwise happy to be in their presence.
“Long day?” Ben asked.
Bill nodded. “My English professor’s a dick. And I had the worst customer come in to work.”
“My professor’s a dick too!” Eddie cried out, the words stumbling out of his mouth before he could think of a way to break the news to Bill.
Bill just groaned, collapsing on the chair next to Eddie. “Tell me about your dick professor.”
Richie snorted loudly. “Dick professor-”
“Shut up!”
Richie yelped as Eddie drove his foot playfully between Richie’s ribs. “Hey, Bill said it, not me.”
“That is not what he meant. Is it, Bill?”
But Bill was no longer focused on anything Richie or Eddie had said. Instead his eyes were staring down at Eddie’s wrist, eyebrows pinched and nose wrinkled, like he was trying to recall some far away memory from the deep, dark depths of his brain.
The scent was faint, nearly impossible to catch a whiff of in the crowded room. But it was familiar; like fresh basil in a backyard garden, ripe for the picking. Honeysuckle flowers that used to thread through the school playground, sweet and fragrant. Fesh rain, first thing in the morning.
There was something underneath it too. Something acetic. It was fear, which set off all of Bill’s alpha instincts. He needed to find this unknown omega, to soothe them. His alpha hindbrain whined, itching to take them away, to tear them from whatever - or whoever - was hurting them. And because Bill had always been a romantic at heart, an image of wrapping this strange omega in his pack’s fluffiest blanket, covering them in his own scent, suddenly invaded his brain. He would set them down on the couch, give them a cup of hot tea, wrap his arms around them, and play with their hair until they fell asleep. He could picture nosing the omega’s scent gland, causing a release of happy omega endorphins that would calm them both down. The mere thought of pleasing the omega was more than enough to cause a rumble of pleasure deep in Bill’s chest. The more he thought about it the clearer the picture became. The mystery omega in his fantasies wasn’t so strange after all. He had looked exactly like,
“Ss-Stuh-Stan?” he said suddenly. His eyes darted up to lock with Eddie’s, looking as shocked as Eddie felt at the return of his stutter. “You ss-saw Stan?”
Immediately the warm feeling that had been surrounding them seemed to be sucked out of the room, replaced with a thick, suffocating air that crushed Eddie’s lungs and squeezed his air pipe. He opened his mouth to answer, let out a loud gasp instead, and went scrambling for his inhaler.
No one spoke a word as he took a puff. Two. Three.
Finally, he forced himself to look Bill dead in the eye. He nodded.
“What?” The force of Richie’s voice made Eddie flinch, jumping back until his back was flat against the chair. “You saw Stan? And you didn’t tell us?”
“I was going to tell you,” Eddie said. “I just didn’t know how.”
“Is he oh-okay?” Bill asked.
“Oh, please,” Richie sneered. It was so different from the Richie Eddie’s used to, it damn nearly sent Eddie scrambling for his aspirator again. “As if you care.”
Bill’s eyes turned steely, turning to face Richie with two tiny fires in their place. “What does that mean?”
“We all know why Henry claimed him.” The venom in Richie’s voice was like a punch to the gut. Eddie could nearly see it, falling from his lips with every word. “Why he chose him over Eddie, and why he was able to get away with it.”
Bill didn’t answer. His eyes were locked with Richie’s, an icy glare seeming to freeze over his expression. Eddie was suddenly reminded of when their pack first formed, their seventh member freshly lost and the two alphas constantly at each other’s throats. He couldn’t let this come between his friends again.
“We can help him,” Eddie said hopefully. “Things can be different this time. We can make them better.”
Still, there was no answer from either of the alphas. After perhaps the longest few seconds of Eddie’s life, Bill finally slipped off the chair and stood in front of the pack, hands awkwardly clenched by his side and glare locked on the far wall.
“I’m going to start on dinner,” Bill mumbled.
Richie’s shoulders slumped as Bill exited the room, and he only returned his gaze to Eddie once Bill was completely gone from his vision. “What happened?”
“Is he okay?” Mike repeated the question from earlier, concern written all over his face.
Slowly, Eddie shook his head.