Chapter Text
Help Wanted
Chapter One
An Unemployed Alpha
The advertisement had been in the Nimbasa News for several days:
Depot Agent wanted for the Nimbasa City Train Station! Must be an alpha with prior experience managing trains and other alphas. Please submit resumes to the email below.
Emmet had been against it from the start, knowing that Ingo would be back soon, but as the days had turned to weeks and then to months of Emmet manning the job alone, his vote had been outweighed by the heads of transit. However, it was Emmet’s decision to choose which of the applicants got the job in question.
The work distracted him from his dead-end investigation, for a short time at least.
Emmet sat at his cluttered work desk during his break, his gloved hands moving deftly between documents as he sorted between rejection and consideration, although all he had seen so far had ended in the former pile. There was nothing particularly wrong with the applicants, all with fitting previous experience and credentials, but that in itself was the problem.
Ingo would return soon. He would need his job back, but would be too considerate to make another qualified worker quit. So, if Emmet hired a stand in who was under qualified, then Ingo wouldn’t feel guilty about firing them upon his return!
There was one major non-negotiable, however: the applicant had to be alpha, since he and Ingo were in charge of the alpha carriage section of the busiest station in all of Nimbasa City.
It was important for the safety of the public to separate omegas and alphas on the train – even those who were already bonded. There had been too many incidences in the past where an omega had gone into an unexpected heat, with or without a collar, or an alpha had turned aggressively territorial, and utter pandemonium had ensued. Betas were allowed to ride either type of carriage without restriction, but it was important for the staff to also adhere to the guidelines, especially for the alpha carriages...
Emmet and Ingo were dominant alphas, and they’d been twin station masters for years, to the point where they were both irreplaceable...
However, for the past few months, posters of Ingo had been hanging in the station with a single word plastered beneath each picture: Missing .
Emmet reached the end of the resume pile, with only a single application left, and his eyes glanced over it half-heartedly, until he saw the previous job experience… It detailed that the applicant had worked at a different train station for several years, but Emmet didn’t recognise the name of it.
He stared at the detail for several minutes, racking his brain for the knowledge, but he could find nothing. There was a number beneath it, and he called them while flipping to the front of the page, where the applicant had put their personal details... Had they seriously put the same number as their contact number too...?
It only took a few rings for the line to go through. “Hello,” said a male voice from the other side, “this is the Hisui Train Station. How can I be of service today?”
“Hello. I am Emmet. I am looking at the application of a past worker. Their name is …” He scanned the document and carefully said, “Volo.”
“Oh, Volo! He told me he’d put me down as a reference on some applications. What would you like to know about him?”
“Where is the Hisui Train Station?”
There was a brief pause, although Emmet wasn’t sure if that was suspicious. Typically, he avoided phone calls where possible: voices were too clever at hiding information. “The station is in Sinnoh,” they answered.
“What part of Sinnoh?” he questioned further.
Another pause. “In the north. So, shall we discuss Volo?”
Emmet was bad at reading voices, but if there was one topic he was an expert on, it was trains. “There is no train station in the north of Sinnoh named that.” The voice was silent. Worried that the person would hang up, Emmet pressed on. “You are hired, Volo.”
There was another pause, and then a laugh. Emmet didn’t understand what was funny. “Are you pulling my leg?”
“I am not pulling anything,” Emmet explained. “You are Volo. If you would like a job, I have one for you.”
“The one I applied for?”
“The one you applied for. You will be a depot agent on an alpha station area. It will be easy. I will do the job without you. You will stand to the side and let me work. When I need you to leave, you will leave. You are hired.”
Another laugh, although Emmet still didn’t know what there was to laugh about. “Most interviews are conducted in person. You don’t know anything about me.”
“The worse you are at this job, the better,” Emmet told him simply. “I will do all the work. You will be there to please the higher ups. This is equally beneficial.”
“Well,” said Volo, voice softer, “when you put it like that, Emmet, how could I possibly resist…?”
-x-
The two met several days later for ‘training’. The station was quiet at this time of night, making it the perfect opportunity to meet. Emmet stood on the sideline; his feet pressed together neatly while he looked up at the ceiling of the station. The paint on the roof was peeling, and although he’d already put in several requests for it to be fixed, so far there had been no changes. The walls were littered with faded posters of all sorts: concerts, advertisements, lost pets, and missing people…
The train thundered into the station, the wind catching his white coat in the rush, sending it whipping around him like a hurricane. The vehicle pulled to a stop with a screech, the lights burning the dark tunnel ahead, while the doors gaped open. The smell hit his sensitive nose before a single passenger had left: the musky scent of alphas.
They exited the train in droves, along with some betas, but Emmet’s presence parted them, like a railroad switch diverting tracks. He already knew the reason why: his cologne. Only the betas who had taken the line wandered close to him, their sense of smell too weak to be affected.
Emmet didn’t respond to the sea of wary glances as he smiled and waited. The final passenger stepped out a moment before the doors closed, and a shared look between them was all he needed to know they were the job applicant.
The train rumbled back to life and stormed onwards, into the plunging tunnel and away from the station, leaving behind the last passenger and burning ozone. The stranger had to grab their hat to ensure it wasn’t blown off by the wind, but their long blond hair was pulled from its bun, whipping around them dramatically, like some sort of commercial. Their worn jumper was oversized, but even then, Emmet got a sense of how thin he was just beneath the clothes, and it made him question the man’s status…
Then his scent hit Emmet’s nose. The man was an alpha, but his natural scent had a peculiar sweetness to it that he wasn’t accustomed to. However, while there was no bond mark on his supple neck, his aromatic scent was tarnished by the smell of sex and traces of an unknown omega...
“Move behind the yellow line,” Emmet instructed loudly. Something like annoyance ghosted the man’s face, but he did as he was instructed, approaching while wrestling his long hair back into a messy bun. “You are Volo?”
“And you must be Emmet,” he said, smiling up at him. Volo was tall, but Emmet was still taller, towering over him like a lighthouse. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” His hand was offered, and Emmet shook it firmly between gloved fingers.
“I will give you your uniform and discuss what you will do. Come this way.” Emmet released his hand and pivoted on his heel, heading directly for the staffroom.
Volo lagged behind, but Emmet didn’t slow his pace. “I thought you didn’t need me to do anything.”
“I do not.” Emmet opened the door and waited for Volo to catch up, tapping his foot impatiently. As soon as they were inside, he shut the door and searched through the cupboards, trying to remember where the spare uniforms were kept. “You will wear the green uniform as you are a depot agent.” He succeeded in finding a spare and offered it to Volo, who was scratching at his nose. “Is there a problem?”
Volo smiled, but it didn’t reach his stormy grey eyes. “Your cologne’s really strong… That’s an anti-omega one, right? It’s burning my eyes and I’m not even an omega…” He took the uniform, but only gave it a cursory glance.
“It is anti-omega.” Emmet turned away from him again to hunt down the proper paperwork for Volo to sign.
“...Any reason you wear it?” The man was trying to start a conversation, although Emmet wasn’t particularly interested.
“There is,” Emmet answered, not pulling himself away from his document search. Thankfully Volo didn’t push the conversation topic further, and his search was soon fruitful. “Sign these.”
“Are you going to clarify what I’ll be doing before I have to sign my soul away?” Volo asked, looking genuinely amused this time.
“I have already told you. I will complete all the required duties myself. You will stand by and let me work without incident.”
“And what will you be doing?”
Emmet fished a pen from the messy desk and offered it to Volo like an olive branch. “I will be ensuring there are no altercations between alphas, both on and off the train. I will be ensuring no one boards without first purchasing a ticket. I will also be providing directions to commuters who require it. Safety protocols will be followed. Maintenance will be scheduled as needed. No one may stand behind the yellow line. Understood?”
Volo smiled. “Where do I sign?” He went to take the pen, but Emmet moved in a flash, grabbing his wrist and pinning it to the table, just above the dotted line of the documents. Their bodies pressed together. Emmet’s mouth was beside Volo’s ear. His muddied scent filled his nostrils, while Volo coughed on his sharp cologne.
He didn’t try to pull away though, even when Emmet whispered in his ear. “I do not know why you made up a reference. I do not know why you want to work here. I do not know, and I do not care. There will be no problems… Correct?”
And, just as he had on the phone, Volo laughed. “Your cologne reeks…”
Emmet squeezed his wrist. It was as thin as a twig, but he didn’t flinch at the pain. “There will be no problems,” he repeated. “ Correct? ”
“Of course.” Volo turned his head, their smiles only an inch apart. “Why would there be any problems?”
Emmet released him and stepped away. “Then sign on the dotted line and you will be temporarily employed.”
Undeterred by the warning, Volo signed his name.
As soon as it was written in bright blue cursive, Emmet pulled the contract away and slid it into a ready folder. “Welcome aboard,” he said loudly, filing the papers into a pair of rusty drawers. “Your training is over. You will start work tomorrow at 5am. You will come in uniform. You will not be late. You can leave now.”
Volo, however, took the opportunity to lean against the desk and rub his sore wrist. “You look like the guy from the posters.” Emmet stopped moving. Volo didn’t stop talking. “I bet people mistake you for him all the time…”
Emmet trembled. A memory from that morning flashed in his mind like a train headlight, of a young girl entering the station. She had been too young to be repulsed by his cologne. She had tugged at the end of his coat and had innocently asked, “Are you from the poster?”
It had not been the first time he’d been confused for Ingo since the disappearance. He also knew it would not be the last.
“Ingo will be home soon,” Emmet told the annoyance. His words were not hopeful: his words were a fact. “Until then, I suggest you stay out of my way. I have a verrrry bad temper.” He turned just enough to see Volo out of the corner of his eye.
Volo was still smiling.
“I look forward to working with you, Emmet,” he said, as if he hadn’t just been threatened. “I think we’ll make quite the team.” Volo pulled himself from the crowded desk, still rubbing his wrist, and he finally left the room, only leaving a hint of his sweet alpha scent behind.
-x-
Volo was already five minutes late for his first day of work, but he didn’t have the energy to rush as he walked down the street. He caught the smell of freshly baked bread from a nearby bakery, busily at work making the day’s batch of goods, and his stomach painfully rumbled. If he’d had more time, he might’ve checked to see if they’d thrown out anything burnt, but he already knew Emmet would be livid by how much time he’d wasted already.
At least it was nice to have some new clothes, even if it was a material that was going to be itchy until its third wash. He should’ve washed it last night, but he imagined it would’ve been an annoying conversation to have with the one-night stand… Perhaps he’d have the conversation with the next once, since his normal clothes were about due for a wash anyway.
The subway staircase yawned before him, each step leading him deeper and deeper into the bowels of the earth. He shivered at the heat that rose from the underground, and made a careful note to follow the red lines that led to the alpha-only section.
He hopped the turnstile when he thought no one was looking, only to come face to face with his worst nightmare incarnate: Emmet. The station master looked as murderous as the previous day, if not more so, but at least his expression was nicer than the disgusting cologne.
Anti-omega colognes could only be purchased by unbonded dominant alphas who had powerful scent glands. However, the smell was pungent enough to affect other alphas, who had noses just as sensitive as omegas. It made Volo’s own nose burn just by being close to Emmet, and the passengers didn’t get too close either.
Emmet was exceedingly tall, standing out clearly amongst the throngs of commuters. His uniform was white and freshly pressed, disrupted only by a purple tie, and his smiling face was framed by two grey sideburns that Volo felt the urge to pull on like a light cord. His eyes matched the colour of his hair, as grey as smoke and railroad tracks, but when Volo studied him, there was a jarring image in his mind: another man’s face.
They looked just like Emmet, except their smile was nowhere in sight…
Volo was dragged back to reality by a hand pulling him from the turnstiles. “Use the gate,” Emmet told him. “It is for staff and you are now staff.”
“I’ll remember that next time,” he said with a faux laugh, following behind the man. “Sorry about being late! I-”
“It was a given.” Emmet paraded him around the rundown station, making him store his heavy backpack safely in the staffroom, before they finally stopped in some random corner, away from the passengers. Emmet quickly posed him like a mannequin, deft gloved hands tilting his back and neck and arms until he resembled a faithful priest more than a transit worker. “Stay like this. Do not move.”
“…For how long?”
“Until lunch. I will tell you when it is lunch.” Emmet finished by tilting Volo’s hat slightly, only pulling away once it was perfect. “You smell of another omega.”
“Not all of us can smell as lovely as you,” Volo bit back with an innocent smile. This guy was a pain…
“I do not smell lovely,” Emmet said, sarcasm completely lost on him. “That is the point of the cologne. Stay like this until lunch. I will do the rest.” With that said, the station master spun on his shoes and marched off to oversee the rest of the work single-handedly, leaving Volo standing alone in the secluded corner of the station, with nothing but a wall-map of the railroad for company.
As soon as Emmet was busy and out of sight, Volo dropped the stupid pose and took to leaning against the wall instead, hoping his grumbling stomach and energy reserves would last until lunch…
How long had it been since he’d last had something to eat…?