Disclaimer: I don't own "Olympus has Fallen" or "London has Fallen" that is all someone else's playground.
Authors Note #1: This story is based sometime close after "London has Fallen" and in a sort of au where Lynn didn't die and Leah and Mike broke up not long after the events of "Olympus has Fallen."
Warnings: Deals with the Alpha/Beta/Omega trope, knotting, sexual content, anal sex, alpha/omega dynamics, adult content, adult language, canon typical violence, semi almost public sex, friends to lovers, clueless boys.
Storge
Chapter Two
The next thing he was aware of was cracking a lid at an unfamiliar ceiling. Fingers spidering automatically for his sidearm, only to come back empty as the rest of him slowly registered his surroundings. Like the mysterious full-body ache that was throbbin' through him and the irritating catch of someone breathing right-
"About time you woke up, you've been sleeping for the past twelve hours," Lynn issued from the chair beside him. Looking up from her pile of paperwork with an irritated flick before scribbling something down on her tablet.
The only thing that saved him from falling right off the bed was the stack of file folders piled on the corner.
"Lynn? What- oh fuck," he groaned, falling back against the pillow he must have been drooling on at some point. Feeling so much like pounded shit that he threw an arm over his eyes and rolled over. Realizing in the process that he was wearing a loose pair of strange smelling sleep pants and nothing underneath.
Christ, his head.
Everything was foggy.
Like spelunking in a cave, everything was coming at him in disembodied waves.
"Oh god, what hit me?"
"Neutralizing gas," she replied, unfazed as he winced and fumbled around for the bottle of water on the side table. Shaking an overgenerous amount of pain killers into his hand before tossing them back with roughly half the bottle. "Brand new flavor from the DOD. Meant specifically to neutralize both Alpha and Omega without compromising their nervous systems while the Omega is in heat. All things being equal, it worked pretty well. I don't think it has been officially tested in the field so you'll probably be getting a fruit basket from the chem department. You, however, should have woken up hours ago. The President was up and moving within an hour and let me tell you he is in a mood today. The doctor took a look at you and said you were running on empty. Worn out. You pulled your damn stitches- again. Exactly how much sleep have you gotten since London, Mike? Dammit, I thought we talked about this?"
"What happened?" he asked, ignoring the rest as something scratched insistently at the corner of his mind. Suddenly hyper aware that he was in the East Wing of the White House. In one of the state rooms used for visiting dignitaries. "Where is the president? Doctor Mathison was here? Why? What happened?"
He was up and alert before he'd even thought the action through. Regretting it instantly. Feeling his relationship with gravity dip and sway until Lynn's manicured nails bit gently into his shoulder, keeping him steady until he waved her off and fell back onto the bed. Breathing in her calming, Beta scent as his gripped his head in his hands. Wanting the world to stop spinning as he caught blurts of the President's scent on her clothes.
Hold on-
His nostrils flared, head jerking up as he caught the burnt scent of anger and discomfort. But it wasn't the kind of scent he was used to from Ben. Not exactly. He inhaled before he could stop himself, before he remembered Lynn was right there, watching him. The available air was a riot of scents. Stress mostly. Which wasn't uncommon in the big house. But the way it had thickened seemed to indicate something had happened.
What happened?
If there'd been knock out gas, did that mean some sort of attack?
He scented the air, inhaling deeply. Keeping it in his lungs for as long as he could before letting go of it again. Sighing as he did. Like the pheromones and hormones were the same as a nicotine rush. And maybe they were. Either way, it seemed like all his senses were heightened, on edge. Because he swore he could almost taste the hint of something far more interesting on the air. Something sweet and caramelized that tugged at the portion of his brain that was still trying to piece everything together. Half a dozen different scenarios already running full tilt through his mind's eye.
The last thing he remembered was the night shift- no- he'd been boxing with the President in the morning. There had been a strange smell, but he'd been able to ignore it, focusing instead on the Press briefing he was shadowing the President on in the afternoon. It was going to be the last briefing regarding what happened in London. Something the media was still all over.
"Did I miss my shift?" he asked cautiously. Slowing catching on to the seriousness that seemed to be owning the moment as Lynn sighed and set her glasses on the side-table.
"You really don't remember?"
"Lynn," he demanded.
An awkward swell threatened to rise up his throat when she fixed him with a look. Pitying, annoyed and strangely warm all at the same time before her nails click-clicked across her tablet and handed it to him.
"Don't say I didn't warn you."
It was horribly fascinating in retrospect. Watching the exact moment everything just fucking snapped. Like a train wreck or a multi-car pile-up, only with one hundred percent more sex appeal. All on public television.
Yeah, he wasn't going to be popular at HQ for awhile.
Maybe ever.
He was able to catch the moment where Ben brushed past him on his way to the podium. Or at least that was what it'd looked like, what it had originally intended to be. Instead, what the camera hadn't caught, was when soft fingers had unexpectedly slipped under the sleeve of his jacket. Feathering around the bare of his wrist before continuing on to the microphone.
The camera panned away to focus on the President, but even then he could see the set of his shoulder's change as the cameras went off and Ben smiled at the press pool. Stiffening like raised hackles long before he even started his speech. It had all gone off without a hitch, and seemed to be getting the right reception from the reporters if their questions were anything to go by. Closing with a rousing tribute to those they'd lost in London. Words he knew for a fact had kept Ben up most of the night writing.
Unsurprisingly, Trumbull had stepped onto the podium and shaken the President's hand. Naturally gravitating into the usual photo opportunities as the Vice President leaned in and whispered something. Making Ben smile as the older Alpha wrapped his arm around his shoulder and-
Ah.
"Personally, I would make a point to apologize to the Vice President for growling at him, but that's none of my business," Lynn commented breezily, as the video kept playing. Only making the moment he jumped on stage, teeth bared, all the more surreal. The muscles in his neck straining as he got between Trumbull and Ben. Full on challenging the older Alpha - before Ben was suddenly in front of him. One hand bunched in his suit jacket, tugging, as a low pitching sound left his throat. Questioning and hopeful and so textbook Omegan it'd halted him in his tracks. Replacing the need to attack and protect with something darker- richer and-
Oh.
Well-
Shit.
Okay, so- that actually explained a lot, to be honest.
He wondered what it said about him, considering instead of embarrassment or confusion, all he was really registering was a heavy blanket of contentment. Like everything was as it should be as Lynn watched him take in the moment he punched Ben with his lips and stole all the air. Feeling sated - grounded - in a way he'd never experienced. Like something had curbed all his usual restlessness and left peace instead.
It was a strange feeling.
Something he figured he'd get used to.
If he got the chance, of course.
It probably helped that he knew how this shit worked. The only way this could have gotten as far as it had was if both of them had been willing participants. An Omega didn't invite the intentions of just any Alpha, heat fever or no. It was based on something deeper than basic sex drives and hormones. In fact, before the invention of suppressants, bonded pairs often found each other exactly the same way. Suddenly. Violent. And with little thought for any and all innocent bystanders.
A muscle in his cheek twitched upwards as the briefing room exploded into pandemonium. With half the detail trying to wedge between him and Ben, and other splitting between flushing the reporters and making sure the Vice President got out safely.
He snorted internally. Deciding to take it as a win that everyone remembered their training.
The video kept going after that. Showing how they ended up standing side by side before the cameras were shot out. Teeth bared and posturing as they took on the remaining Agents like they were an invading force. Snarling and circling, but rarely out of reach of each other as Ben raked his nails down his chest, baiting him into a brutal kiss like the entire damn thing was an overture. Accepting him. Wanting him. Needing him. More.
'Hell of a proposition, Mr. President,' he thought wryly.
They'd been on this road for a long time, he realized. This had been something that'd come through the ashes of Maggie's death and strengthened into something new. Something different. Something that'd started living and breathing, all by itself, not long after Kang took over the White House.
It had been right in front of them the entire time.
Only neither of them had seen it, until-
He shook himself back into the present. Shifting as his cock ached in a tired sort of way, safely tucked in the cradle of his thighs. Feeling the burning pull of abused muscles and rut-exhaustion as he blinked rapidly. Ready to sell the East Lawn for a cup of shitty coffee.
"-between you and me, I'm probably being fired right now," Lynn commented blandly, like she was talking about the weather or her commute home. Realizing he'd lost track of the conversation as he mentally scrambled to catch up. "It was my order to release the gas and I got myself torn a brand new asshole thanks to you. The President wasn't happy to be physically extricated from his new mate before- and this is according to him- 'you were both conscious enough to make it official.'"
The air quotes were unnecessary, but doubly hilarious considering he could actually hear the President's irritated tone behind her sharp, nonsense expression. Which was probably hiding how much she wanted to murder him, right at this moment.
"Do you have any idea what a PR nightmare this is? At the end of the day Alpha and Omega relations are absolute. The public will accept it. But we have to be careful. Our first Omega President was helped by not having an Alpha, you know it and I know it. The old attitudes still linger. So for the love for fuck, don't think with your damn knot. We might be able to salvage this if we play it right. God knows it took long enough for this country to elect its first Omega president. Now this mess."
"Wait, hold on- he's okay with what happened? He wants-" he trailed off as Lynn rolled her eyes.
Admittedly, he wasn't good at this kind of stuff.
He had a failed marriage and a pissed off ex-wife to prove it.
He was good at shooting and keeping Ben alive.
That was about it.
He wasn't afraid to admit that he needed to know for sure. Because honestly, it was one thing to feel it. To know in the very center of him that this was right. But it was something else entirely to hear it said aloud. God knows he'd confused a life lesson for a relationship once or twice before.
"Why do you think you're here, Mike? Jesus Christ," Lynn snapped. Like he was just as much of a moron as she'd always taken him for and then some. Huffing distractedly as her phone pinged. "The President was very clear. We were to treat 'his Alpha' with all due respect and attention. He wants to see you as soon as you're ready, by the way. And we're all under orders not to let you sneak out, so don't even try. At least half a dozen people in this building have itchy trigger fingers right now. Particularly the speech writing department, as you might imagine."
But he was still stuck on the first part.
Everything else could go to hell as far as he was concerned.
His Alpha.
Jesus.
He was still shell-shocked when she snorted and snatched the tablet back. Shoving it in her briefcase and switching to her phone, typing briskly.
"Hopeless," she muttered.
It was only after silence started to rule the room that something occurred to him.
"Why did you stop it then?" he asked, remembering the hot clutch of Ben's body. The building burn deep in his guts that'd exploded outwards when his knot swelled. Tying them together as he nearly fucking sobbed. The sound quickly overtaken by a throaty Omegan keen as their scents melded and he fisted his hand in Ben's hair, baring his throat. "Why not let the rest run its course?"
"What was left to happen, you mean?" Lynn replied dryly. Side-eying him in a way that made him wonder what the security cameras had picked up. "I think you scared Leibeniz and Furlan for life, by the way. They were the ones who had to...separate you two. I didn't know Furlan had facial expressions, to be honest. Figured his face was frozen like that. So, I suppose congratulations for shattering that betting pool are in order. Along with a few others I'm not supposed to know about. Otherwise, all you missed was the President nearly giving Chezar a black eye when he woke up. That and the opposition leader announcing he will be demanding a full inquiry into Secret Service protocols and procedures."
"Oh, is that all?" he snorted, amused. Letting his brain run with the mental image of Ben waking up in the residence wing, snarling and grouchy. But the hand she rested on his arm a couple moments later was sober enough to make him still. Eyes snapping up to meet hers as she squeezed him gently.
"God knows how you didn't claim him, Mike, but I'm glad you didn't. Must have hurt like hell, but it probably saved our bacon in more ways than one. You know as well as I that the President's bonding has to be completely by the book. There can be no question of intent. It has to be public- we at least need to get coverage of you both before and after. This is unprecedented. Things will probably get worse before they get better, but as it stands, his approval ratings are holding steady."
The next question was obvious and cutting edge. Enough that his hackles prickled and Lynn's nose twitched at the change in his scent. Irritated that it hadn't been one of the first things out of his mouth after waking up.
"How? How did this happen?"
Lynn sighed.
"Mike, there was no go-to protocol in place because the President was married when he came into office. He was already on suppressants and birth control. You know how the suppressants work- they make biology heel. Save for spring ruts and his heat week, you wouldn't know an Alpha or an Omega from a Beta. That's the whole point. And it works...99.9% of the time. But it isn't unfailable. Sometimes biology knocks us on our ass just because it can and other times...well-"
He nodded shallowly, considering the variables.
Maggie had been a Beta. Which meant Conner had been something of a miracle. As a rule it was difficult for Omega males to impregnate their female partners. The majority of the sperm they produced was sterile, but it wasn't unheard of. He knew his suppressants were fine, he would have been able to smell the difference. The President's heat week wasn't for about three months and his rut was almost six months off. So how had-
Down the hall to orderlies talked in hushed voices.
Something about the President clearing his schedule for the next couple of days.
He swallowed, hard.
"Either way, it wasn't supposed to matter. You were on suppressants and so was he," Lynn stated. "Both of you are surrounded by two dozen agents any given day, any irregularities would have been picked up almost immediately. Far in advance of any real problem."
"So, what changed?" he said hoarsely.
"You tell me," she returned, eyes roaming across the screen in front of her as her mobile pinged again. "According to all the experts neither of your suppressants packs were tampered with. You had the correct levels in your system. The tapes show the two of you sparing in the boxing ring an hour before the press conference. Seems like things got a bit heated. You didn't back off when you normally do and he was pushing it. Johnson told me it was the first time you two were in the ring since-"
"London," he breathed.
Oh fuck.
"Exactly," Lynn stated. Like as far as she was concerned that was the concluding point on the matter. And yeah- maybe it was. Because honestly, things had been different since they'd pulled their asses out of that elevator shaft. Bleeding, singed and tired. But for once it'd been different in a good way. It'd felt different in a good way.
They'd spent almost every waking moment together since then. Neither of them had stopped to rest and recover. There hadn't been any time for that. So when Ben dove right back into the thick of things with a vengeance, he had too. Taking to sleeping in the back of the barracks just so he could be close. Complacent and settled when Ben was in eyeshot. And irritable and off-balance when he wasn't.
He'd known people were starting to notice. They wouldn't have been good at their jobs if they hadn't. But up until now he'd been able to brush it off – both to them and himself – as some well-deserved paranoia. Not above using the pull he'd earned to get his way as he reshuffled the entire department and put every single agent, including himself, through the paces. Revamping the entire grid and closing every single possible hole they could get clearance to spend tax-payer money on. Fully expecting anything and everything to go wrong. Not putting it past Aamir to have another trick up his sleeve or-
Holy shit, he really was an idiot.
Lynn's hand was back on his arm like she knew.
"Listen, Mike. Regardless of how or why, he chose you. He chose you as his mate. It doesn't work any other way, you know that. But since you were both on suppressants, neither of you realized it. And since neither of you can be normal and figure things out the old-fashioned way - by using your god damn eyes - it boiled over on us," Lynn told him, tone broaching no argument but still managing to be kind. Fond, even.
"Something changed in London. You know it. I know it. Hell, even he knows it. But I don't think anyone, least of all the two of you, knew until yesterday. How you managed to be this pig-headed I have no idea, but here we are. So for the sake of my sanity, don't screw this up, okay?"
He took a deep breath.
Then another.
Realizing that in the scheme of things, he was lucky.
He didn't have to guess when it all came down to it.
He knew.
"So, I should probably-" he started, inclining his head towards the door as a restless sort of excitement trickled through him like watered down adrenaline.
"Go?" she finished for him, smiling with her eyes as she sighed and picked up her radio. "Yes, you should."
His bare toes curled into the carpet as he got to his feet. Stretching as the catch of sore muscles pulled and burned almost pleasantly. God knows he hadn't used some of those particular muscles in a while. Not since Leah, anyway. He winced, god- Leah. Talk about a cold open. She'd remarried not long after Kang's takeover, but they were still friendly – still running in the same circles, the same friends. Honestly, he'd been happy for her. Hell, he'd even been there the day she'd gotten hitched to a nice Beta surgeon who was so in love with her it was nauseating. Last he heard kid number one was already on the way. He figured she'd probably found out the same time as everyone in America had.
"Party Crasher is on his way to Southpaw. Look alive, gentlemen," Lynn sent, speaking into the radio with her usual clipped tone.
"Party Crasher?" he repeated, incredulous and amused.
"The boys decided you needed a designation and I'm not going to be the hard ass that ruins their fun. You are on my shit-list, Banning, so you're going to deal with it. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, ma'am," he replied with a grin. "Besides, I happen to know that the President might be willing to-"
"I hate you both," she said dismissively, waving him away in that way she had that only made him appreciate her more. "Don't involve me in your domestics or I will stick my boot up your ass."
He snuck a kiss on her cheek on his way out. Automatically inhaling as he caught the irritated tart of his Omega and angled towards it. Senses sharper than he was used to as he took in Ben's scent with long, over-indulgent pulls.
He was almost home free before-
"Put on a damn shirt before someone sees you! This is the White House! Not Ladies Night on the Vegas strip!
His lips twitched. Holding back a laugh by the skin of his teeth as he snagged the green long sleeve shirt someone had left folded next to the door. The shoes and slacks he ignored by default. Figuring the least he could do was show the man exactly what he was getting into.
As if he didn't know already.
A/N: Thank you for reading, please let me know what you think. – There will be one more chapter.