Arthur knew that he was going to be in trouble when the American walked in.
"Hiya," the golden-haired Adonis said, marching straight up to Arthur. Arthur, somewhat startled, actually leaned back a little in his chair as he was presented with a hand thrust into his personal space for a shake and a ridiculously over-the-top smile. "I'm Alfred."
Feeling a little bit like he was being held up with a gun but the gun was a smile, Arthur cleared his throat before reaching forward and taking Alfred's hand. "Arthur," he responded, and winced as Alfred squeezed just a little too hard before dropping his hand.
"So… this is the HR department, then?" Alfred asked, looking around the one-room basement office with the single, small rectangular window where the wall met ceiling. "If they keep HR in here, I can't imagine where they keep accounting." Alfred's smile hadn't dimmed.
"Yes, well," Arthur replied, straightening his tie to cover how overwhelmed and slightly irritated he felt. Alphas, Arthur thought, shaking his head.
Of course, it wasn't as though Arthur himself wasn't among the alpha type; he simply disliked the majority of them. Ever since hormone-suspension pills had been introduced back in the 1970s and humanity was finally free of the crippling nature of heat cycles, overbearing masculine posturing was completely and entirely unnecessary, in Arthur's opinion. It was also absolutely meaningless. Being alpha, beta, or omega made absolutely no difference in the rhythm of life unless an omega went off his or her pills.
Though, to be fair, with the way that Alfred seemed to chuckle at his reserved response and plonk himself down uninvited in the other office chair, Arthur wasn't sure if the other man's actions were alpha posturing or just simply personality. Alfred crossed his left ankle on his right knee and offered another jaw-splitting smile. "I was sent down to dirty your doorstep so I could get the appropriate paperwork filled out," Alfred clarified. "If you let me know what I have to do, I can leave you to your HR dungeon in peace."
Arthur nodded. "I see," he said, just so the man wouldn't think him a total mute, and he turned his chair around to rifle through the new stack of manila envelopes he'd received that morning and try not to imagine what the man's pectorals could possibly look like under that striped shirt.
Being gay was incredibly annoying, Arthur had decided long ago. Not only was there all the nasty leftover stigma, but you didn't even get the common decency of assuming that the target of your lust was at least attracted to your kind. He turned around again in the chair and flipped through the folder.
"Alfred F. Jones, from Detroit?" he asked, looking up. It was obvious he was holding the correct file; the folder's contents contained a smiling passport photo of the visage sitting across from him, so he couldn't even look down into the folder to get away from the man. Balls.
"As I'm an automotive engineer, it shouldn't come as a surprise," Alfred responded, nailing Arthur to the cross again with another dazzling smile. "Though, with the response I get from the locals when I tell them that… it's like they think I'm from a warzone. I've stopped correcting them." The other winked.
On the outside, Arthur was an impassive block of stone. On the inside, Arthur was imagining the other as a needy homosexual omega male, bent over the desk and whining for Arthur's cock. That'd teach the bastard to wink, all right.
Well. So far this encounter was going quite swimmingly. Arthur inhaled. "I see. I trust the flight over was adequate?"
"I found British Airways to be rather adequate," Alfred said, and Arthur thought that the other would look rather adequate drooling around his cock and what the hell is wrong with you, Arthur? "I was drunk for a lot of it, which is always a plus when stuck into a capsule for hours on end."
"Indeed," Arthur said, trying to prevent his brains from scrambling. What the hell. "Anyhow, here's most of the paperwork that you will need. You can fill it out at your own leisure and bring it back at a more convenient date." Though what would be most convenient for Arthur would be sliding fingers into the other's loose and slick asshole in order to press against the prostate and make those red lips moan and that twangy-accent plead-
Okay, honestly. Arthur was a rather unfortunate virgin, but this had never gotten this bad before. Was it getting warm in here?
"Thanks," was the next word that came out of that should-be-come-guzzling mouth. Alfred took the paperwork. He looked up, and those blue eyes seemed to size him up for a brief second. "I assume you're the guy who enforces company policy?"
Company policy isn't the only thing I can enforce, Arthur thought. "Yes," his more sensible mouth responded.
"What's the policy on Omega Leave?" Alfred asked lightly, tipping his head.
Arthur blinked. "Generally we appreciate notice if your mate's heats are on a proper schedule, but emergencies obviously occur." Most omegas only went off their pills in order to achieve pregnancy, but some actually did prefer to go through a heat every once in a while for 'cleansing' purposes or what-have-you. Arthur couldn't imagine wanting to go through a heat, but, well. That's how the world went 'round.
"Ah, no," Alfred said, bouncing the folder that contained the paperwork against his palm. He smiled. "I mean for omegas. I'm actually an omega."
Arthur blinked, shocked that the other would reveal this so casually. In the modern workplace, type was considered to be a medical issue and nobody revealed the information unnecessarily. Pregnancy was no indicator of whether a woman was alpha or omega, and with the pills it was considered a nonissue.
"T-that… we require notice of leave for omegas since there's no reason an omega would go into heat without it being a choice," Arthur said, trying not to stammer. "You are guaranteed 3 weeks of Omega Leave by national guidelines… but… you can apply for more should it be necessary or the omega is trying to conceive and the heats don't produce a child." Arthur managed to get through this without throwing the other in his lap and going at him like a jackhammer, and thought he ought to be commended for this.
Alfred laughed. "Obviously, I won't be trying to conceive. Gotta love these laws… omegas have to give notice, while alphas don't. Discrimination is rife within the system, man. Probably won't be taking much advantage of the leave either… unless I find some of the local fare worth sampling, of course."
"Quite," Arthur responded, and it was either say that or tear his shirt off and beat his chest like Tarzan. 'Local fare worth sampling,' indeed.
"You're not gonna tell anybody, are you?" Alfred asked, scratching the back of his head. "I know that people aren't supposed to discriminate against omegas, but, well, y'know what people actually are like. Don't want to get off on the wrong foot."
Arthur wasn't going to tell anyone anything. He was going to pound the other man so completely into the ground and mark him so thoroughly with his teeth that it would be obvious. He inhaled. "I am required by the law to keep confidence on matters such as this, as an HR professional," he repeated like a total drone.
"Thanks." Another relieved smile. (He would make that exact same expression after I knotted deep inside of him and release was finally-) "Well, I'll get this back to you tomorrow, then. I appreciate it."
When Alfred turned to leave the basement office, Arthur was mortified to hear a strangled noise of protest coming from his throat. Where are you going. You need to be fuc-
Alfred turned around and raised an eyebrow, and Arthur had to say something reasonable, or go out back and drown in his own shame. "Are you taking your pills?" was the least idiotic thing that he could say, his voice a little weak.
Alfred hummed. "Yes, but due to the time changes the medication doses are a bit off," he explained. "They said I could stay at home for the next few days, but I at least wanted to get the paperwork out of the way so I could really get down to business when the time came." Another smile. "I took a taxi here, and I'll be taking one back. I wouldn't risk public transportation at this point, but figured this would be fine."
Oh, no, it certainly wasn't fine. Arthur thought that perhaps the American could use a little schooling in proper conduct. Preferably with Arthur as the teacher and a rattan cane as the instrument of instruction. He awkwardly adjusted his tie. "Ah," he said. "I see. I will see you at a later date, then, Mr. Jones."
"Oh, please, call me Alfred." Another smile, and the omega was gone.
When he was sure that the other's footsteps were not coming back, Arthur stood up and climbed the stairs out of the basement himself to go make a cup of tea. At least the relentless desire to master the other made a little more sense, now, Arthur thought glumly.
The bad thing is that now he was completely aware of an attractive omega male in his midst. Of course, the fact that there was an omega male around didn't mean that said male was queer, but the chances were a hell of a lot better than with betas or alphas.
Of course, I'm sure I made a fantastic first impression on him, stuttering like a moron and then asking about his pill regimen, Arthur thought, shaking his head as he poured hot water into his mug.
Ah, self-loathing. Such a comforting routine to fall back into, and Arthur did exactly that for the rest of the workday until he could finally go home and masturbate until his fingers wanted to fall off.