Author's note: This is M/M Slash, Alpha-Beta-Omega universe... -ish. I kinda make my own rules;D Also, no werewolves... I'd call it "werewolf adjacent" though.

Rating will most likely go up, if (or when) I decide to write lemons.

Also fair warning, there will be domestic discipline in the fic, so if it triggers you, this might not be a fic for you.

Stiles always knew he was destined for greatness. Unfortunately, his life seemed to be in disagreement.

It all started in puberty when it became obvious, that Stiles will, in fact, remain a "boring" Beta, while almost all of his friends shifted one way or the other.

You see, in the world ruled by powerful Alphas, who hankered after gorgeous Omegas, being a Beta was like being a sidekick in a popular TV show - you are kinda there but your presence is mostly so that the main character can react to you. You may provide some comic relief or smart commentary, but ultimately, you are dispensable.

The life of a Beta wasn't a hardship, they weren't discriminated in any sense. Perhaps because there was simply nothing particular about them - like they weren't even worth to discriminate against. All the drama always surrounded Alphas and Omegas and while the majority of Betas enjoyed their quiet life, there was a decent chunk of them who craved to be in the center of attention.

That was the reason why statistically most criminals were Betas. Not important criminals, of course, the underworld was ruled by Alphas, just like everything else. But in sheer numbers, Betas accounted for ⅔ of prisoners. And not just because Betas were the most numerous dynamic but because one could do stupid shit in order to stand out.

Stiles didn't do stupid shit per se, he just helped himself selling weed here and there. No biggie. His dad would be horrified of course, but what he didn't know couldn't hurt him. And Stiles intended to keep it that way.

He reached into the inner pocket of his jacket to check the product for tonight's sale. Only 3 ounces left for tonight, in one of the most luxurious Las Vegas casinos, he should be done fairly quickly. With a bit of luck, he would find a few big players who went into those private poker rooms and would be happy to purchase the full load from him.

The elevator door opened and Stiles was hit with a subtle smell of masculine cologne. He eyed the guy with curiosity. The impressive physique, dominant presence, and dark brooding gaze clearly indicated an Alpha, though that Hollywood face would be envied by many Omegas out there. Black leather jacket, loosely styled hair and carefully maintained stubble gave him the bad boy vibe, which Stiles didn't even know he was into… till now.

Stiles didn't have a strict dynamic preference. Most of his teenage years were spent in pining after a quirky Omega Lydia Martin, who for the most part completely ignored his existence and then placed him in friendzone, which was a questionable upgrade when it came to love-life. While Omegas generally stimulated his instincts to care and protect, the dominant Alphas held a different kind of allure, they emitted power and authority, bringing out the strong sense of belonging.

And belonging to this "Bad Boy Alpha chick-flick escapee" wouldn't be all that bad.

Despite Stiles's obvious interest, the stranger paid no attention to him, his eyes didn't even brush over him, like he wasn't even there. More people entered the elevator and the doors started closing just as the young lady was passing with a stroller. Everyone gave a panicked gasp when the door was about to crash the sleeping kid in the head, but at the last moment, the handsome Alpha stopped it with a quick reflex.

Everyone let out a sigh of relief and the mother thanked him politely, which was an appropriate reaction to the situation.

"Wow, dude, nice save. That reflex, that was something… "

And that potentially could be an appropriate reaction as well... if Stiles didn't sound like an overly obsessed hormonal fangirl, who just met her lifelong crush. The "dude" cast him a disgruntled look and Stiles trailed off clearing his throat.

Real smooth, Stiles...

xxx

It's not that Stiles meant to follow the Alpha around, the guy just happened to always be in his purview. Stiles thought that he wasn't being obvious about it, till the Alpha flat out addressed him, without even turning his head from the slot machine.

"What do you want?"

It took Stiles a moment to realize that the guy was, in fact, talking to him.

"Yes, you," the Alpha confirmed, turning to him with an annoyed look on his face.

"I…"

"You have been following me around for the past hour, so let me be clear - I'm not interested."

The dismissive tone and blunt rejection stung quite a bit, but Stiles put up a facade of nonchalance.

"Presumptuous much?" he scoffed, "I merely wanted to offer you some weed for sale." He subtly opened his jacket revealing perfect square packages hidden on the inner side.

The Alpha narrowed his eyes calling his bullshit, "Yes, you followed me around practically milking with precum just to sell me some pot."

Asshole!

Stiles rewarded the dick with a fierce scowl, which left his target entirely unaffected.

"Listen, if you don't want to buy just say so, I'll take my business elsewhere."

The Alpha's lips twitched ever so slightly as if Stiles's pout amused him in some way. Did I say pout? No no, Stiles was most definitely NOT pouting.

"How much do you have?"

"How much do you need?" he countered the question with his own.

The guy lost the barely visible smirk and went back to the brooding irritation. He didn't say anything and Stiles lost his nerve within 3 seconds of "Fix your attitude or I'm gonna fix it for you" glare he was given.

"Three ounces or so, I sell 10 a gram, 65 a quarter and…"

"I'll take all."

Stiles gaped at him, "All?"

"You have trouble hearing?"

No, Stiles didn't have trouble hearing. The guy already managed to gamble away around 500 bucks on slots, so he was obviously loaded, but still… that was a LOT of weed.

"What are you gonna do with it?" he couldn't help wondering.

"None of your business."

Asshole all the way. Fine, not like Stiles really cared.

"It will be 700."

"Yeah, I don't care, make it quick."

Stiles wondered what did he see in that douchebag, to begin with. His arrogance and condescension far outweighed his good looks. He fumbled with the packages, trying to be inconspicuous as he handed them over to the Alpha.

"Thanks," with that curt acknowledgment, without even looking at Stiles, the douchebag turned around ready to walk away.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Stiles snapped, grabbing his elbow.

The guy turned back, glaring at him and then at the hand gripping his jacket, the unspoken threat looming in the air.

"I'm taking my hand away," Stiles quickly retracted, his tone much more polite, "But you better pay up."

"No."

"What do you mean 'No'"?

"You need me to spell it out for you? It's a fairly short word," the dick replied, the smirk making a reappearance.

Stiles really wanted to punch that smug motherf… in his face. But he was pretty sure he would not come off victorious from that encounter, so he tried one more time to ask nicely, "Dude, I'm not kidding, give me my money and I'll be on my way."

"Get lost, kid," the guy scoffed dismissively, "And stop dealing."

Stiles felt his temper boiling. What an absolute ass! He glanced in the direction of the security guys meaningfully and the Alpha laughed.

"Yeah right, gonna tell them your drug sell went wrong?"

Alright, that's it!

Stiles grabbed him once more and yelled, "Police! Call the police!"

Alpha's eyes widened in shock that Stiles actually did it. He didn't attempt to run but he did jerk his hand strongly, shaking off Stiles's grip.

The call to arms generated the expected attention and the security guards immediately rushed towards them. "Is there a problem, Sir?" one of them asked Stiles, narrowing his eyes at the Alpha.

Stiles took out his fake badge flashing it at the men with confidence as if he did many times before. "Special agent Stilinski," he introduced himself, trying hard to keep his voice steady and professional. "The gentleman here is dealing pot." To support his claim, Stiles unabashedly unzipped the leather jacket to show where the douche hid the weed. It might not get him his money back, but it will give him the satisfaction of knowing the asshole didn't get away with it.

"What?! You are the one who sold it!" the dick retorted appalled.

"I have other work so I'll leave you to deal with him," Stiles addressed the guards, ignoring him. He turned around ready to make his escape, while everyone is still properly confused.

"Sir, I'd ask you to please accompany us."

Even though it was posed as a request the guard's stern voice left no doubt as to the fact that it wasn't one. Stiles gaped at him in surprise. "I…"

"Please follow me."

Fuck.

xxx

Sitting in the temporary holding cell of the local police station Stiles contemplated that his plan was not all that smart after all. I mean, it did work many times before, saving his ass from getting caught… besides, who knew that this guard worked for police before and will call his bluff?

Stiles always carried a badge and a toy gun around as a safety measure. Selling weed was risky business, but flashing a gun or a badge was usually enough to dissuade potential muggers from jumping him.

Now it all backfired spectacularly. Not only the casino cameras proved that he was the one dealing, but he was also charged with impersonation of the law enforcement officer. All in all, he was in deep shit.

The Alpha dickhead didn't look much happier, he was only charged with possession, but given he had some priors, he probably looked at the real jail time as well. Stiles didn't know the specifics, but the cop told them both to get comfortable, as they were not getting out anytime soon.

"You just had to be a douchebag, huh? You gambled away a shitton of money and couldn't pay me? Like seriously what kind of asshole are you?" Stiles fumed glaring at the guy sitting next to him, who didn't say a word the whole time or even looked in his direction. Stiles, on the other hand, wouldn't shut up. He had to blame someone… it helped him to ignore the fact, that it was his own stupidity that led him to risk THIS for mere 700 bucks.

"Moron."

"I may be a moron but you are one rare Alphahole!" Stiles retorted.

The guy still didn't look at him. Oddly enough he didn't appear to be all that concerned about his own predicament, it looked more like he was simply annoyed that he had to sit there with Stiles instead of gambling in the casino. Like this was just some stupid inconvenience for him.

"No seriously, you clearly have money, why would you…"

"Will you shut the fuck up?" the Alpha grumbled, massaging his temples tiredly. But it would take more than that to dissuade Stiles from his rant.

"All you had to do was say: 'no I don't want your weed'. And that would be it! I would leave you alone to your gambling. But no, you just had to…"

Stiles heard the smash before he even saw the guy move, the loud bang on the wall made by a fist narrowly missing his head, successfully silenced him.

"I'm only gonna say it once," the Alpha growled, his fangs elongating and his eyes flashing with red color, "Shut your mouth before I shut it for you."

For a second there Stiles forgot to breathe. Whether it was from the sudden scare, from those dark red eyes staring at him just inches from his face, or from the angry snarl in the Alpha's voice, Stiles didn't know. But the guy just became so much more interesting.

You see, Alphas were the closest descendants of the Wolfs. Their blood had the highest concentration of werewolf blood cells, which made them strong, naturally dominant with leadership qualities. Some Alphas had additional abilities that distinguished them from the rest, like better resistance to illness, faster healing, higher strength, speed or agility, etc. The purer the bloodline the better.

It was very rare for anyone except Alphas to have those special quirks. Omegas had their own 'powers'. As the most submissive dynamic, they were almost uniformly gifted with good looks and high appeal, to make up for it. The show business was almost all about Omegas, as they also tended to be the most creative of the three.

And Betas… well, I already talked about them.

Anyway, the thing that amazed Stiles so much, was that he had never seen an Alpha elongate his fangs or change the color of his eyes, that was only a thing of the movies - and there it was always done by the CGI. The dickhead must be coming from some old purist bloodline.

"Derek Hale?" the guard called approaching their cell, "You are out."

Hale... Why did it sound familiar? Stiles noticed that the guard was followed by a handsome man, an Alpha in his late 30s, whose dominant presence if not overshadowed, definitely matched the one of the Alphahole. The man looked at Stiles with a hint of curiosity, while his charge left the cell without giving him a second glance.

Well, Stiles didn't sit there alone for long, as he was soon called into the interrogation room (at least, that's what Stiles called it). There he was met by a friendly looking Asian woman in her late 40s, who asked him to sit down as soon as he entered. The lady was a clear Omega, not that Stiles contemplated escape, the two bulky Betas were still guarding the door after all. She smiled sweetly and offered him a glass of water.

"Mr. Stilinski, I'm sorry I don't think I will be able to pronounce your name…"

"It's Stiles."

"Stiles," she repeated, clasping her hands on the table, "My name is Noshiko Yukimura, I am here to offer you an alternative for your future."

"My future?" Stiles asked confused.

"The prison sentence. You are looking at 2 to 5 years jail time, sweety," she said, with a compassionate smile.

Stiles felt his mouth go dry and his stomach do a somersault at the grim prospect. Like sure, he knew he was in trouble, but he didn't expect to be in that much trouble. He will have to call his dad now, there was no way around it. Oh God, he is going to be so fucking disappointed!

Stiles drifted into his headspace, the room blurring in front of him, the loud banging in his ears blocking out any sounds as the panic mixed with nausea.

"Mr. Stilinski!"

Stiles snapped back to attention looking at the concerned face of the older Omega. He gripped his hands to stifle the tremble and gave a shuddering sigh.

"Don't freak out on me yet. I'm here to offer a possible solution," she said, pushing a glass of water in his direction, "Your characteristics, as well as the nature and the degree of your crime, makes you eligible for Beta Rehabilitation Program, Stiles. Do you know what I'm talking about?"

Stiles nodded uncertainly. He has heard about the program before, it was promoted vigorously on the federal channels as the big success, resulting in the reduction of the prison population and minimal recidivism among the participants.

"The Program focuses on helping people like you, Betas who due to lack of guidance strayed away from their path…"

Stiles couldn't help but grimace at the promotional bullcrap. The skepticism was not lost on the woman, but she ignored it and continued, "From our experience, the Rehabilitation Program along with proper guidance of a responsible Alpha in a caring home environment help young men and women overcome their criminal tendencies."

Criminal tendencies… oh please.

Stiles understood what she was implying and he should probably look less irritated, but he couldn't help feeling like he was in the middle of a propagandistic campaign.

"How long?"

"The standard rehabilitation period is 2 years, with reevaluation after the first 6 months."

Stiles let out a heavy sigh. He already knew he was going to accept the offer. Anything beat jail time, really. And he could probably even be assigned to his own father to straighten him out during the "rehabilitation period" - his dad was an Alpha after all. And yes it would be very humiliating as a 20-year-old adult to revert back to his teenage years when his dad was still his legal guardian, but what was little humiliation compared to prison?

"The aim is to socialize you back to be a proper member of society. You will be expected to adhere to a certain schedule, that will involve work/education or both as well as sport and cultural activities. Pretty normal life really. Your compliance will be assured by the Alpha, who will have legal custody over you. It will be his responsibility to help you, guide you and discipline you if necessary."

Stiles winced at the prospect of going over his dad's lap, which hasn't happened for well over 10 years. The sheriff was known to be a strong no-nonsense Alpha, however, he was absolute pants when it came to disciplining his own son. Stiles rarely felt the hand of his father growing up and once he hit his teenage years he managed to talk his way out of most punishments.

"There will be weekly visits by a social worker to see your progress. After 6 months you will be subjected to your first review. Sometimes that's where it ends for many Betas, as their life is fully back on track. If more time is needed, the program extends for an additional 6 months. By the end of the second year, 95% of our subjects are fully rehabilitated."

"So do I have a say in which Alpha is assigned to me?"

"That is not standard practice, however, your wishes will be taken into account."

Stiles frowned at the diplomatic answer that basically meant 'no'. "Well, my dad is an Alpha…"

"We avoid including friends and family members into the program," the lady interrupted him.

"Why? Wouldn't it be beneficial for a person that actually knows me, to be responsible for me?" Stiles argued.

"Not if they failed that job to begin with," she said firmly.

Ouch!

Stiles glared at her ready to jump to his father's defense. Not like it was his fault that Stiles screwed up! He was an awesome dad and she had no right to judge him! He opened his mouth to say as much, but the Omega spoke first.

"Stiles, an Alpha has already been assigned to you."

"What? But I haven't even agreed to the whole thing yet!"

"Apologies. IF you agree, of course," she corrected herself.

So much for having my wishes taken into consideration. Stiles sighed and frowned in his lap in resignation, "What else can I do?"

"All things considered this is a very good option, Stiles. You won't even have a record."

That was a good thing of course. It basically meant that his future won't be tarnished and he can still pursue any career he wanted. Even if his father got involved and somehow pulled a miracle to save him from doing time, Stiles would still get a criminal record, and this way he was avoiding it altogether. But still... living with a random Alpha he didn't know and being ordered around, let alone disciplined for the next 6 months didn't sound all that appealing to Stiles.

But better than prison!

"Alright."

"Lovely," she said with a quick smile as if she didn't really expect any other answer. "Now we just need to go through a few legal procedures… I'll prepare the papers, you can go wait in the waiting room. There are coffee machines," she winked at him, "Your Alpha should be already there."

Stiles furrowed his brows in suspicion as he stood up to leave the room. This was all happening a bit too quick for his taste. The Alpha was already waiting for him? Surely it couldn't be...

"You gotta be fucking kidding me..."

Stiles ran his hands through his hair, desperately glancing around in hopes there were more people in the waiting area. But there was only one person sitting on the bench in the middle of the room with his arms crossed and his expression royally pissed.

His rare Alphahole.

TBC

Merry Christmas everyone!