This Pretense

Chapter One: The Rules of the Game

Alfred thought that maybe he should have picked a different sport. He wasn't the most familiar with the gameplay and rules of soccer, and he was having trouble learning with so many eager, assertive, and all around competitive people just waiting for him to figure it out already. It made him nervous and his footing would falter at critical moments from even the most basic snarls sent his way.

They were split into eight teams of eleven people. Alfred was put out that his team mostly consisted of Alphas and a few Betas, as well as himself. Personally he would have preferred to be on a team of Betas, but it never worked out like that – every team needed a main competitor; and that was the Alpha's job.

"Come on, Jones!" one of his teammates shouted from across the field as he fumbled with the ball and lost it.

It was a hot day out and they were scrimmaging against each other and for some reason, today he just wasn't feeling at his best. Every sudden movement had him jumping and twitching, every hissing breath from a teammate made his skin crawl and his nerves were everywhere. Finally Alfred gave up. "You know what?" he shouted back to the mouthy Beta, Lovino – who, in Alfred's opinion, was more like a bitchy Omega, but he really should be the one to judge. "Go fuck yourself!"

The brunet gaped at him before breaking into some longwinded trail of slurs, but Alfred wasn't listening. He was hot and pissed off, so he simply wiped at his forehead with the bottom of his shirt as he stormed off the field. "Jones! Jones what the hell are you doing?"

He was being followed by an Alpha, Arthur to be exact – he could tell by the accent. "I'm done for today," he said offhandedly, swinging around the water bottle he had swooped down to pick up off the side of the grass field. The recreation center was air conditioned and the cool air made his skin prickle as he moved for the empty locker room.

"You can't just be done," Arthur continued, following Alfred with crossed arms and a glare. "The team is waiting for you! Don't just shirk responsibility, boy."

Alfred turned to round in on the Alpha, his mouth half open with an angry comment, then caught Arthur's glance and turned right back around. Arthur had viciously green eyes. "I'm not shirking," he mumbled, scratching at his arm as he went to his locker. "I don't feel well, alright? It shouldn't take a detective like you to figure that one out."

Arthur cocked his head to the side. "I'm a police chief, Jones." His eyes narrowed in suspicion. There was a long silence between them as Alfred kicked at the bench before him, his hands trembled on their own accord and he stared off towards the showers with a scowl. He really wasn't feeling well, and he had a very good idea as to why. Finally Arthur coughed. "Do you… smell that?"

"W-what?" Alfred jolted, quickly snatching up his duffle bag and trying to push past the Alpha and escape. "I don't smell anything but your nasty breath." He had a clear path to exit, but Arthur grabbed him by the wrist, pulling him back a step. "Don't fucking touch me!"

The Alpha didn't say anything, only stared at Alfred until he wretched himself out of Arthur's grip and ran to his car. Against his better judgment he inhaled deeply. The locker room smelt like salty sweat and feet, but there was something just there; new and indescribable. At first he would have said cologne or simply axe, but underneath that was a raw scent, musky and charged with pheromones. Arthur snuffed his nose and jogged back out to the soccer field to rejoin the practice.

Something was going on, and he didn't land the position of Chief by leaving things unsolved.

Alfred groaned to himself, turning over on his bed and pulling his blankets above his head before flinging them off. "Ugh, fuck me," he whined, squirming into his sheets, his toes curling and his stomach muscles contracting.

There was a tisking noise from his doorway followed by a few footsteps. "Ah, it's been three days and yet you still look to be in the throes of passion!" Alfred opened an eye to give a halfhearted glare at the flippant French Beta in his doorway. "My, if I were an Alpha of any sex drive, I'd find this to be an appeasing opportunity, I think." The man smiled wanly. "Isn't it wonderful that I find you to smell like stale Cheetos?"

"Shut up Francis!" he cried. If he didn't have a raging boner right now he would have gotten up to deck the man. "Sh-shit… it hasn't been this bad… fuck – in a long time."

Francis only shrugged, moving further into Alfred's room to set a plastic tray on the nightstand next to Alfred's bed. A slick sheen of sweat had gathered onto Alfred's brow and Francis made a pitying noise. "I brought you something to eat. There is no use in starving yourself." He would have reached out to run his fingers comfortingly through the Omega's hair, but he doubted any physical contact with an Omega in an unwanted heat would do either of them any good. "Perhaps it's so horrible now because… well I can't help but to think about where you've been running off to for two afternoons a week. Maybe that wasn't the best choice. All those Alphas; sweaty, handsome, strong…"

"Goddammit, shut the fuck up will you? Just… get me a box of tissues. Okay? Fuck."

"My, my, with the orders you give, one might think that we're mated my dear Alfred."

The Beta gave a lewd expression as Alfred grabbed a pillow and pushed it under his groin, curling around it, torn between fucking it and crying. "As soon as I get rid of this boner, I'm going to kill you – and then fire you! Goddammit."

"Ah! You can almost hear the fear striking the center of my heart!" He made a dramatic gesture, covering his heart with a hand. "Goodness, thankfully I know you jest! However, I'll do as you ask simply because I pity you. Think nothing of my kindness!"

Alfred pressed his face into his mattress and groaned in exasperation, prompting Francis to take his leave. He headed down the narrow staircase that led to the back of the store where they normally kept shelves and boxes filled with vases and crinkling wrapping, ties and assortments for bouquets and floral arrangements.

The bell to the front door chimed merrily and Francis made sure his blue and white picnic-plaid apron was secured around his waist before heading out to greet the customer. "Good afternoon," he called out easily, taking a moment to brush his hair from his face.

"Good afternoon, I was hoping to find – oh… Francis." The customer stopped and Francis smiled widely upon seeing Police Chief Arthur Kirkland.

He tucked his hands into the pockets of his apron, trying to surpass a smug smile. "And what brings you here, mon ami? I doubt you've come for any of these beautiful flowers, for you've no one to give them to, I'm sure. And I doubt further if you've decided to pay me a visit. It's been too long."

Arthur made a noncommittal noise and shrugged his shoulders. "I forgot you worked here," he said after staring at a particularly large rose bloom. "Actually I came to see if Alfred was home. That twat missed practice today."

Francis hesitated. "Ah… yes… Alfred." His hands twisted in the pocket of his apron. "He's ill – haven't you heard? I've been watching the shop now for the past three days."

"He did seem… unwell last practice," Arthur mumbled reluctantly, pulling a stemmed rose from a vase to his nose. Francis flung his hands into the air as soon as the Alpha sniffed at the plant, no doubt picked up an extra scent along with the pollen. Arthur looked dazed for a moment, the apples of his cheeks flushing before he turned to Francis with a glassy stare. "What… w-what is that smell?"

"It is nothing! Now, since you're not buying anything, please leave! I've business to attend to and I don't need you in here loitering like a child." With slightly frantic swashes of his hands, Francis ushered the Alpha from the building closing the door firmly and pointing down the sidewalk when Arthur simply stared blankly into the store. "Shoo."

He watched Arthur leave, stumbling into the congestion of foot traffic along the sidewalk before he finally sighed in relief. That had been a close call, and even though Arthur wasn't the type to follow his instincts and run after the source of the pheromone heavy scent, it was in his best interest to keep Alfred's secret – as a friend and an advisor.

Francis sighed wistfully and returned to his task of fetching a box of tissues. He just hoped nothing would come of this incident – and if anything did happen, let it be in their favor.

- End Chapter One -

Unimportant Notes: Oh… gosh guys! I really didn't think that the response for this fic would be so… loud. :U I profess that the chapters won't have the usual length (seeing as I have less time now to actually write), but hopefully that will equate to more updates more often. That's my hope anyway. :)

Thanks guys so much! And this fic here is a "brain-baby" between sanguinehero and myself, so hopefully it fleshes out really well! :D Thanks!