He may have been the toughest omega most people would ever meet, but Arthur didn't stand a chance facing Alfred F. Jones: idol, businessman, and alpha extraordinaire.
They may have shared a playful flirtatious love-hate relationship, but the lines were often blurred.
Leaning in uncomfortably close, Alfred pressed Arthur against the wall. His head tilted to the side, so close that Arthur could feel Alfred's warm breath against his jaw. Arthur shivered; it tickled.
All Arthur wanted was to go home and build his nest.
"Arthur Kirkland." Alfred whispered against Arthur's ear. Lightly, his teeth nipped against Arthur's lobe. "You drive me crazy, did you know that?"
Arthur's heat would begin that evening and he really needed to be building his nest. A familiar heat was beginning to build up in his groin.
"Yes, well, I hear the entire company has driven you crazy at one point or another." Arthur responded in a deadpan voice, trying to mold himself into the wall so he could hurry home and begin nesting. "Now, if you'd excuse me, Mr. Jones, I would very much like to be heading home at the moment."
Alfred ignored Arthur, instead pressing his lips against Arthur's neck and leaving a trail of soft kisses along the curve of the omega's jaw. "Mmm, you smell so fucking good, taste so goddamn amazing."
Any other day, any other alpha, Arthur would have simply pushed Alfred away. Perhaps he'd leave him a nice shiner as a gift. But, being so close to his heat, Arthur's innate desire for an alpha's embrace was overruling any rational thoughts he had. He found himself leaning into Alfred's embrace, peeling himself away from the wall and into Alfred's firm chest. His hands closed around Alfred's lapels, pulling him closer.
A sudden warmth flooded Arthur's mind, Arthur's body, and all he needed was an alpha's knot.
Alfred's close proximity had pushed Arthur over the edge, prematurely bringing about his heat.
And then Arthur's lips were on Alfred's and both of them were lost in the pheromones of heat. Alfred laid kisses all over Arthur's body, ripping fabric out of the way to reveal soft omega skin. Arthur breathed heavily, every touch igniting a fire. Alfred was rough as he tore Arthur's pants off his waist, his fingers plowed into Arthur's slickened hole, but so, so gentle as he occupied Arthur's lips in a deep kiss. Arthur broke away and moaned because every touch was magnified and his senses were overloading because everything felt so good. His arms wrapped around Alfred's neck, pulling him in closer, closer, deeper, deeper.
Arthur whined when Alfred's fingers suddenly left him feeling empty. Alfred rectified the situation by turning Arthur around and pushing himself into Arthur. He plowed Arthur against the wall, leaving marks that would later form bruises on Arthur's soft skin. Arching his spine, Arthur leaned back to capture Alfred's lips. Both of them were gasping between messy, impassioned kisses.
Alfred kept Arthur's hip in a tight grip with one hand, the unoccupied hand running up and down Arthur's chest, tracing abstract designs and occasionally tugging at a hardened nipple. Arthur practically purred at the sensations. He loved the feeling of being surrounded by an alpha, and Alfred loved having a vulnerable omega in his arms.
A week later, Arthur woke up in his apartment in a half made nest. Alfred's scent lingered behind, overwhelming all of Arthur's senses and suddenly it was all too much and he was going to be sick.
A note had been left behind, but Arthur burnt it along with his nest without ever reading it.
One of those things Arthur swore that he would never do was get involved with someone he worked with.
Of course, as fate would have it, Arthur was now a single, mateless, pregnant omega who was going to be fired in T-8 hours.
All of those years of abstinence, working to maintain the ideal omega values (save for a short era of promiscuity in his university years) gone because of one badly timed heat.
His boss, a certain Alfred F. Jones Junior, had been in Japan for the past three months as his idol persona. Who Arthur could have (and should have) contacted, seeing as that was why Alfred had left all his contact information with Arthur. If only Arthur hadn't burned it along with everything else carrying Alfred's scent. The absence of Alfred was a small victory for Arthur, seeing as no one else would notice the change in his scent. Unfortunately, Alfred returned today and Arthur bid his time.
His constant fidgeting was was attracting the attention of his coworkers. Fingers drumming against the table, constant reshuffling of paperwork, distracted pen clicking, and that dreamy blank stare gave him away.
It was a long eight hours.
After the office was empty and all his coworkers had gone home, Arthur stood. Closing his eyes, he collected his wits. It wasn't an ideal situation, but it was too late for regrets and he couldn't go back now.
With a letter of resignation in hand, Arthur made his way to Alfred's office.
Standing a few metres down the hall, Arthur watched as his crossdressing coworker flounced out of Alfred's office. Decked in pink bows and white frills, the frog was looking all too smug for someone who was in constant hot water with his superiors for organizing weekly strikes.
Alfred appeared in the doorway, looking not at all annoyed with the frog. He looked very much the way he had before he left for Japan, save for a bright purple streak now running through his sunny blond locks. An uncomfortable heaviness pooled in Arthur's stomach; he brushed it off as mere nerves. After all, Alfred F. Jones was not known for his leniency when it came to dealing with situations he disapproved of. Francis and Alfred shared a laugh over a joke Arthur couldn't hear before Francis walked away.
Alfred turned and saw Arthur's approaching figure. He beamed, looking very much like an alpha with a plan.
"Arthur Kirkland. Just the person I wanted to see." Alfred smirked, leaning against the door frame like a teenage delinquent.
However, Arthur wasn't interested in exchanging pleasantries. He would rip the band aid off in one go, hand over his resignation and leave. "Mr. Jones, I apologize for my sudden appearance. Please accept this." With both hands, Arthur offered Alfred the envelope.
Arthur watched as Alfred read the contents of the letter, watched as his expression shifted from curiosity to surprise to upset before settling on anger.
Crumpling the sheet in his fist, Alfred glowered at Arthur. "What is the meaning of this?" he asked through gritted teeth. "Are you unsatisfied with your position? Is your salary below your expectations?"
Clasping his hands together, Arthur studied Alfred's shoes. Polished black Oxfords of the finest Italian leather. "I apologize for the inconvenience," Arthur said without meeting Alfred's eyes. "Magical Strike is a company of the highest caliber and I am very fortunate to have had the opportunity to work along such fine individuals. Unfortunately, some unforeseen circumstances have arisen that leave me with no other alternatives."
Alfred looked skeptical, and opened his mouth to argue when he realized something had changed. "Your scent. It's different."
Arthur bristled, hoping Alfred wouldn't realize what had happened.
But fate had this way of twisting into the worst possible scenario. "Are you…carrying?" Alfred stepped further into the hall, closer to Arthur, so he could confirm his suspicions. Arthur simply stood there, powerless to do anything.
"You are." Alfred said, suspicions confirmed. "It must be mine."
Arthur nodded, studying the threaded patterns of the carpet. His cheeks flushed and his eyes burned with unshed tears. Unconsciously, Arthur wrapped his arms around himself, willing himself to remain composed.
Out of nowhere, Arthur found himself pressed against a hard alpha chest. Alfred had closed the distance between the two, closing his arms around Arthur. Arthur's body recognized the father of the child Arthur was carrying and relaxed, surrounded by calming alpha pheromones.
"I'm sorry," Alfred murmured into Arthur's hair. "I shouldn't have lost control like that. You just smelled so good and I've had an interest in you ever since you were hired."
Arthur's arms hung at his sides. "I don't expect anything from you," he said in a flat voice. "But please don't take this child away from me."
Releasing Arthur, Alfred pulled away and got down on one knee instead. Arthur watched, confused, as Alfred held his hands, thumbs softly stroking Arthur's smooth pale skin.
"And in return, please don't take this child away from me. You may not think well of me, but I am still the father and my child should know who I am." Alfred continued speaking as tears trickled down Arthur's cheeks. "I would like for us to live together as a family someday, but I will give you space for the time being."
Six months later, Alfred sat beside a sleeping Arthur. A newborn baby, a daughter, slept in his arms, wrapped in a soft green blanket that matched her eyes perfectly.
With loving eyes, Alfred looked at Arthur's sleeping figure, at the bags under Arthur's swollen red eyes. It was a difficult labor, but Arthur had pulled through with flying colours.
Softly, as to not awaken his sleeping daughter or mate, Alfred whispered, "You did well. I'm proud of you."
AHHHHHHHHHH
((Sorry IB exams start tomorrow and I'm going to bury myself in a hole I'm really sorry this is terrible))