This takes place in an Omega-verse AU. Whoever is uncomfortable with that kind of universe shouldn't read any further.
The scent of unbonded Omega in heat made Sebastian freeze mid-step the moment he walked through the front door.
His first thought was that the boss had finally lost his mind. Additionally, it was a miracle that Sebastian could even think straight, the scent of a willing Omega wafting through the air: for all his past experiences he should be storming in the direction of the scent (abandoning all rational thought in the process), and take Jim wherever he found him. Yet there he stood, still frozen in the doorway and waiting for the pull that never came. The mere idea was the equivalent of suicide.
And there Jim stood in the hallway, not five steps away from him.
"You are home early, Tiger."
Jim's voice startled him enough to drop his bag right on the spot. What on earth was he supposed to do? And what was wrong with him? Or Jim, for that matter? The criminal mastermind looked as well put together in his Westwood suit as he always did. Not at all like an Omega desperate for an Alphas's cock.
He flinched as Jim spoke again.
"So it worked."
"What work?" he asked, glad his voice didn't falter. Fuck if he knew what Jim was on about. He only knew that something was not right.
"You remember Ilja Rjabow?" Jim asked casually, still on his spot a few steps away from Sebastian. The Alpha nodded slowly.
"Of course. I shot that bastard last September in that ugly little town in western Siberia. Paranoid little fucker kept hiding in an honest-to-god bunker. Not that it did him any good in the end."
Jim bounced on his heels.
"Seems like his death brought me into the possession of all his little secrets. Rjabow did some very interesting research affecting hormonal suppressants for Alphas. The very same I've been mixing into your Scotch for the last six weeks."
Sebastian needed a moment to figure out what to make of that statement.
"So, you drugged me," he asked for confirmation, watching as Jim frowned.
"That is what I said. Pay attention."
"I guess someone tested this stuff and survived?" Sebastian asked cautiously. That made Jim chuckle in a characteristically unsettling way.
"Don't worry, Basher, it has been tested. None of the test-subjects died on the current mix of the suppressant. Some of the worthless little shits tried to escape – that was a bullet to the brain for their troubles.
Rjabrow might have been as corrupt as they come, but his studies were amazing. Tell me about the effects, Seb. I want to hear it firsthand. You can still smell me, I assume?"
"Yes. You smell amazing, just like..." Sebastian paused. "You are not really in heat, are you? You don't act like it."
Maybe that was unnecessary from Jim's point of view, but Sebastian was usually a bit slower on the uptake.
"It's not the real thing, of course. I am not stupid, Basher. Nothing but synthetic heat scent to test the theory."
"Smells like the real thing. Completely convincing. So why I am still forming coherent thoughts?"
Yes, that was a good question, Sebastian thought.
"That is one of the effects of the drugs. Your senses stay alert but it keeps the chemicals in you brain in check. The rational part of your mind keeps working. Tell me more."
"Well, I would lie if I said I wouldn't be thinking about how good fucking you would feel. No offense, boss," he added quickly. Better safe than sorry.
"No offense taken. Go on."
"So, uhm, I am thinking about it, but it's controllable. Would definitely an idiotic idea to act on it. Like checking out someone's ass on the street and of course not jumping them. If you can relate to that."
"That is good enough of an explanation for now. You may move." Jim dismissed him and Sebastian took a deep breath, in attempt to calm himself down. It didn't quite work the intended way with all the – synthetic or not – pheromones still in the air, but bit of the tension left his body.
Of course there was no way the boss actually wanted Sebastian to act on his instinct and fuck him into oblivion during his next heat. That is, if Jim ever went off his own suppressants long enough to experience a full one. During all the time Sebastian worked for the man, he had never seen him take time off to take care of his needs.
Sebastian followed Jim to the living room, where he barely refrained from pouring himself a glass of Scotch. As much as he needed a bit of calm, the thought of his favorite beverage being drugged made him uncomfortable.
Jim didn't seem affected by the unusual situation at all. By the time Sebastian sat down on the black leather couch he Irishman had already picked up his tablet and settled himself in the matching armchair across from his sniper. Bloody fucking hell.
Despite whatever good the drug did to his ability to think in spite of the intoxicating scent in the air, his thoughts drifted to the Omega on the other side of the coffee table.
According to society, a good Omega was supposed to get bonded to a responsible Alpha early in life. Someone to take care of him or her and make decisions. Even if an Omega working a job wasn't as much of a scandal any more as it has been a few decades earlier, there was still the expectation of bonded Omegas staying at home to bear and raise several children.
Jim was doubtlessly as far from the ideal Omega as one could be. Too old to be unbonded, too vicious, too demanding and most unusual of it all: childless. And didn't that just cause the blood to rush straight to Sebastian's cock?
He had always preferred Betas on the pushier side of the spectrum to cater to his more unusual urges, since most Alphas wouldn't want to get involved with one of their own. Upon meeting the man named James Moriarty, he accepted his longing for the supposed-to-be Alpha and went on with his life, since there was no way this gorgeous - if insane - human being would ever feel anything but disgust for approaching him. He had experienced impossible crushes on his superiors in the army before.
But then Jim raised him to his second in command and personal bodyguard in addition to his duties as head sniper. With that came the requirement to be at hand 24/7 and move into the spare bedroom at Jim's personal flat. Figuring out that Jim was Omega hadn't taken long afterwards-a forgotten package of heat-suppressant pills on the bathroom counter was enough to let the pieces fall together. Sebastian remembered never being that aroused by a mere thought before.
"There are many possible ways to go from here," Jim suddenly said into the silence and Sebastian jerked mack into the present.
"Just imagine where the human race could be, if not for 60% of it being permanently mentally crippled by their hormones. The US-military already showed interest. What better way to keep their soldiers from getting distracted while on duty? Using an Omega in heat to lure guards out of hiding is common enough, you of all people should know that," Jim continued like it was nothing, and Sebastian nodded.
"Yeah, and there is no surer way to loose civilian support than having some heat-drunk idiots rape their Omegas," offered Sebastian on the topic. During his time in Afghanistan he had seen the aftermath of too many crazed nights.
"I knew you would understand. Of course the opportunities aren't limited to military use. There is a lot of money in what that Russian designed. Maybe I will even keep the knowledge. Under another name, of course. And I would need to find someone to actually care for maintaining the patents. Outsourcing will be better in the end, but I want my fair share of the profit. Too sad a project like this requires so much time."
Without any warning Jim rose from his seat, walked slowly around the low table and came to a halt right in front of the sniper. Sebastian doesn't know what to do. He only hoped Jim wouldn't notice the bulge in his trousers. Not that there was much hope the man would miss something so obvious, admittedly.
If he sees it, at least he refrains from commenting on it. Instead he shoves a hand into the pocket of his suit jacket and takes out a small bottle of pills he presses into Sebastian's hand.
"You will keep taking them on your own. Should you 'accidentally' miss a dose, you will pay for it. I don't believe in second chances. But if you are good and refrain from disappointing me, there will be a reward. Because then you will have a few tests done and as soon as the results tell me this-" Jim gave his half hard cock a firm squeeze through his jeans, "-won't cause any trouble, I want you to fuck me."
Sebastian had no idea of how to react. Jim's words knocked the breath out of him.
"Fuck, boss..." he started, however Jim pressed a finger to his lips and leaned down to look into his eyes.
"Now listen closely, Tiger. I know you know about what I am and that the Omega scent on me isn't completely artificial. If I am going to let you fuck me you won't be able to bond me. Don't even think about stupid things like that. I am no one's property. You are mine, not the other way around."
Sebastian swallowed heavily.
"Never doubted that, boss," he finally said and Jim grinned.
"Good, because if you should start becoming ordinary about this, I will cut off your dick and shove it down your throat."
"Duly noted, Sir," nodded Sebastian. "And, Sir?"
"Yes, Tiger?"
"Any long-term effects of the drug?"
"Who knows? Don't say you plan on having children?"
Sebastian paused, then he shook his head.
"Looking after you is trouble enough, boss. No need to add more."
"Good choice, Tiger."