Chapter 2:

The next couple of days practically flew. There was much to be done, and many kinks to be worked out. Tony had to tie up loose ends, trusting in Pepper to finish whatever he couldn't get to in the span of 48 hours. He hired moving crews to pack up his homes in Malibu and New York, and sold off the international villas and homesteads. He had a feeling with Captain America as his new mate there would be no need for lavish vacations. While he still had control of his accounts there were some things he had to take care of. Funds to be set up. Tony had to be very careful that those funds were no longer in his name and under his control. Off-shore accounts had to be opened and closed, money squirreled away for what Tony considered to be his most important charities.

And then he had to pack. Rogers had been pretty clear that Tony's lavish lifestyle was going to come to an end. The man hadn't outright said it during their negotiations, but it was there in the stern line of his jaw and the flash of disapproval in his eyes whenever they spoke of Tony's assets. So Tony packed simply. He brought only a few pairs of jeans, his favorite band shirts, socks and boxers, and the penlight multi-tool that Pep had given him for his birthday the first year as his assistant. And of course, Jarvis. Well, sort of. It was a watch that his father had given him for his 8th birthday. Tony had, of course, reconfigured it to suit his needs. He would be able to communicate with Jarvis through the watch, not to mention that it also acted as a homing beacon - just in case.

Aside from a few toiletries, there was no point in bringing anything else. He knew Rodgers would most likely confiscate it. 'Less is more' Tony scoffed mentally, throwing his duffel over his shoulder and approaching the town car waiting outside of his home in New York.

The contract had been signed on that first day. Tony had brought it himself, shame and embarrassment an oily coating inside of his guts, as he stood before Rogers with his fisted hands buried in his pockets. Rogers himself looked nonplussed. A man on top of the world, although a man who was currently faced with a task he found most unpleasant.

Yeah well, he wasn't the only one. Tony certainly hadn't asked for any of this. It wasn't as if he had put Rogers name on his list of potential suitors. But once he had seen it, Tony realized that there was no one better suited to keeping his weapons off the market than the man who was continually sent out to combat them. Rogers had a lot to gain from an alliance with the Stark name. Combating terrorism or threats to national and global security wasn't cheap. The man's pack was currently funded through the government, and under their purview, but surely the narrow sighted Rogers had the mind to imagine what it would be like to be out from under the government's thumb. Stark Industries stock, and Tony's own personal fortune, was a great start to independence.

Plus there was the fact that Tony had come out as an Omega to the media. He was now the conservative Rogers' Omega, one who the Alpha-ruled world unanimously agreed that needed to be put in his place. It started on day one. Tony fought the blush that wanted to rise to his cheeks at the memory of how Rodgers had made him kneel before him while he read the contract.

It was then that Tony had learned of Rogers list of demands. Tony was not to leave the Avengers compound. He was not to leave the pack house without express permission from one of the Alphas. He was not allowed access to any of his funds (this Tony had already suspected) and any money that he was given permission to have access to Rogers would have to okay all purchases. There would be no more smoking, no more drinking (gee, thanks mom). Outside communication would stop. Tony would not be able to call up Pepper or Rhodey, or call in favors. He was not to embarrass the pack in any way. Rodgers wanted no bad press to paint his pack in a negative light. They were the up and coming heroes of America and having Tony stain their image with his usual antics was unacceptable. The only thing that Tony should be concerned with was staying out of the way and earning his keep.

Basically, Tony was supposed to act like a 1950s Omega. Be seen but not heard, and keep the pack house spotless. Tony knew that Rogers was conservative… but even to him this felt a bit extreme. Of course, the Captain was probably relishing being the one to put Tony in his place. Tony had been a junior in high school when he first caught wind of the freshman who was making a name for himself. Thinking back on those times Tony mentally winced. He had outright bullied Steven Rogers as a kid. He had bullied a lot of different people back then, for a lot of different reasons, but Rodgers had been personal…

If Tony could turn back time he would have steered clear of the gangly, long limbed Rodgers, who had charmed everyone around him with his kind heart and infectious smile. But Tony couldn't turn back time, and he wasn't about to apologize to Rogers for things he had done as a teenager. Rogers certainly didn't want to hear it, and Tony wasn't going to waste his time.

But Tony had some demands of his own. Most of them Rogers shot down without a blink of those icy blue eyes. But there was one demand in particular that Tony refused to budge on.

"It's one day, Rogers. One day a week. That's all I'm asking for. I'll say yes to everything else."

Rodgers' eyes narrowed. "One day a week out of the packhouse to go into the city, Stark? You're yanking my chain. If I give you an inch you will take a mile. It would take you less than an hour to cause an international incident. No."

Tony's head snapped up from his submissive pose at Rogers feet. He would literally have to resort to begging. The once powerful billionaire CEO now at the feet of his high school nemesis begging for scraps… his father would roll over in his grave.

"I swear I will be on my best behavior. If I do anything to cause you embarrassment you can revoke my privileges."

"Once a month, Stark. Once a month we will drive you into the city for whatever it is you need. But if you act out in any way, disobey any direct order, that privilege can and will be revoked. If it's important enough to you, you will be on your best behavior."

Tony gritted his teeth. His heart squeezing painfully. Once a month? That was all the time he was allowed? He nodded his head, his face calm and accepting despite his inner turmoil.

And that was how Tony found himself mated. The ceremony consisted of him, Rogers, Potts and an officiator. Tony was given a mating bite high up on his shoulder, near his neck. Their relationship was, of course, not consummated. Rogers could barely stand to be in the same room with Tony for more than 5 minutes at a time. The feeling was completely mutual.

After signing the papers and placing the bite, Rogers had all but stormed out of the room.

"You have 24 hours, and then I expect you to be on your way Stark." He threw over his shoulder before disappearing from sight.

Tony didn't bother to correct him. Technically he was now Anthony Stark-Rogers, as stomach churning and nauseating as that sounded. Instead he turned into Pepper's embrace.

"Oh, Tony." She sighed, her arms wrapping around his shoulders and pulling him close. He could feel the slight shake in her shoulders.

"Where are your felicitations? Those better be happy tears. It's my wedding day." This wasn't a happy occasion and both of them knew it. Pepper chuckled without humor, pulling back to look into his eyes.

"Does he know, Tony?" There could have been dozens of things that Pepper was talking about. Tony kept many secrets and Pepper and Rhodey knew most of them. But this needed no clarification.

"Nope." Tony gently chucked his best friend on the chin. "Don't worry about me Pep. I'm a Stark. We land on our feet."

"Stark-Rogers now, Tony." Pep corrected halfheartedly, reaching up to brush a wayward lock of inky black hair off his forehead. "I hope you're right."

"When have I ever been wrong, Pep? Did you just snort? You snorted. My poor wounded ego. I'll talk to you when I can. Keep fighting the good fight."

With that he pulled away, gave her a kiss on the cheek, and walked away. It was harder to do than he wanted to admit. He was leaving behind a life he knew, a life where he was in control of his own destiny, and putting himself into an old enemy's hands.

Tony leaned back into the seat, tilted his head back and closed his tired eyes. With his duffel across his lap and the weight of the world temporarily lifted from his shoulders, Tony slept for the first time in 4 days.

"Mister Stark, Mister Stark - we're here." The message was delivered with a gentle shake to his shoulder and a kind smile from the elderly driver. "You slept for the whole trip. But they'll be waiting for you inside the main house there."

Tony groaned, rubbing his eyes. It was funny that after a six hour nap he could still feel so exhausted and burnt out. Giving the driver a thin lipped smile Tony nodded his head and hopped out of the car, duffel slung across his shoulders and sun glasses firmly in place.

He could feel his pulse thundering in his throat. How many press conferences, media junkets, interviews, and speeches had he been to or given? He had delivered speeches to a stadium full of people before but nothing came close to the tight feeling in his guts. It startled him to realize that he was actually nervous to officially meet his new pack. For so long he had been alone. A pack of one with no one to answer to or worry about.

From his rather extensive research, he knew that the Avengers pack was both new and small. The pack consisted of Rodgers, his high school pal James Barnes, esteemed scientist Bruce Banner, a Russian spy by the name of Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton special agent and his wife Laura and their three children. Tony was startled to realize he was nervous to meet his new pack.

Maybe they were not in residence. It wasn't exactly a happy home coming, Tony thought wryly. He doubted Captain Steve Rogers was proud to bring back his oldest nemesis as the new pack Omega. Anxiety and nerves jangled in his chest anyway as he slung his duffel over his shoulder, thanked the driver for the smooth trip, and made his way toward his new home.

Steve Rogers lived out in the middle of nowhere, Vermont. There were trees in the distance that seemed to stretch on for miles. Tall, proud, maple trees, birch and beech trees, blanketed the hills that surrounded the property on all sides. It was summer now, and the world was a bright clean green around them. But Tony knew that come fall the hills would erupt into fiery reds, yellows, and oranges. It would truly be a sight to behold, so much different the the coastal vistas of Malibu that he was used to. The rolling hills around them leveled out into lush green fields that waved in the soft summer breeze. Ahead of him stood a two story log cabin, surprisingly bigger than most, complete with a wrap around front porch and several white painted rocking chairs clustered to one side. The cabin looked new, the wood still raw, the garden and lawn unadorned with flowers or ornamental shrubs of any kind, as if Steven Rodgers had just moved in.

As pack leader, Steve would be expected to have the biggest homestead so that he could host the pack in times of trouble. Luckily Steve's pack was a small one, and he was sure every member of it had their own room inside - even if they lived somewhere else. So in the event of an emergency or a meeting, no one would be forced to bunk down together. They didn't have to share space under one roof, like in days of old. Most likely, the rest of his pack had homes nearby and used Rogers' home as a meeting place.

Tony looked off into the valley before him, squinting to see if he could spot another homestead nearby. After close inspection there were at least two that he could see in the distance. Tony stopped midstride to take a fortifying breath.

He didn't know why, but for some reason his brain faltered, like a train stuck on the tracks. Pistons pumping, wheels cranking, but going nowhere. Out here in the middle of nowhere. This was a homestead. A home. Unfamiliar and foreign on every single level to Tony. There was no place for him here. He wasn't the homesteading type. He didn't know how to be a pack member, let alone an Omega of the pack. He had spent too long living alone, going his own way and barely seeing to his own needs. Pretending to be an Alpha. And now? Now he would need to pretend to be an Omega. But how could he do that? What would be expected of him now? Cold seized his lungs, sending shards of ice to stab through his chest. Tony could feel his shoulders begin to shake even as his world narrowed. Was this cold feet? If it was, it was a little too late for it. The contract had been signed, he had a perfect impression of the very-fucking-painful bite of Steven Rogers' teeth buried into his shoulder. He was walking into an unfamiliar place with people who would most likely hate him on sight. Hell, he didn't even know if there was a place for him here. Would he spend the rest of his days as an unwanted guest? Perhaps Steve would shut him away, locked in a tower like an old spinster. Oh don't mind the howling kids, that's only Tony the pack Omega, only good for his money.

Fear of the unknown had him frozen. It wasn't one of Tony's better moments, and of course because he was mid-panic attack he didn't notice when Rogers walked out the front door to lean against the rail post.

"Stark."

Like a light switch being flipped back on Tony turned his gaze toward the intimidating figure of Captain Steven Rogers. He was dressed in khaki pants (because of course he was) and a tight cotton t-shirt the color of gunmetal gray. He had one shoulder planted against the support beam of the porch, strong arms crossed over his broad chest, and of course that disapproving frown that Tony was growing increasingly familiar with was folded across his tightly sealed lips.

"Hey there Spangles," Tony gave a wink. "Nice place you got here. Got that 'Cabin in the Woods' vibe to it." At Rogers' blank stare, Tony continued. "You know, slasher film? Fine. Friday the 13th? Last house on the left?"

Steve sighed, that disapproving frown settling deeper and crinkling his brow, "come inside Stark. I will show you around."

Tony made his way toward Rogers, his hand fisting almost spasmodically on his duffel. He didn't know why he was stupid nervous, on the verge of a panic attack, but he'd be damned if he ever let Rogers see that he was intimidated as hell and completely out of his element. He knew that Rogers had expectations, just as he knew that those expectations would eventually be met with disappointment. Tony just wasn't the type. He never had been. His stomach knotted and clenched. Taking a fortifying breath Tony followed Steve up the steps of the front porch and across the threshold of the cabin. Into his new life. If he felt the walls around his heart harden a bit, well, it couldn't be helped.

The pack house was impressive. The ground floor consisted of a large family room with high, cathedral ceilings, complete with a couple of oversized plush sofas in beige and colorful blue and green pillows and a large screen TV and a gaming system set up that would make any gamer drool. The windows in this room were massive floor to ceiling monstrosities, framed by actual tree trunks. Tony couldn't help but run his fingers across the bark of the wood, impressed despite himself. There was a pool table in the far corner and a dart board not too far from it that seemed to be well used. The interior wall of the living room was actually a vast stone fireplace that was made up of giant slabs of uneven, mismatched, stone and shared a wall with the kitchen.

Oh, and the kitchen was a cook's dream. Large, with plenty of counter space and storage space, a walk in pantry, gas range and all the newest kitchen gadgets including a Stark Espresso Machine, and kitchen-aid mixer. Tony took in the warm tones from the rich wood floors, the mahogany cabinets and brown granite countertops. He especially appreciated the large windows that flooded the kitchen with natural light.

The tour continued. There was a good sized laundry room that was also the home of the majority of the cleaning supplies. A large dinning room that boasted a table large enough to fit a small nation. There were also 3 guest bedrooms downstairs which, Steve had pointedly told Tony he was not to enter, as well as a large meeting room chock full of all sorts of fun gadgets and gizmos. One wall was made up entirely of weapons for chrissakes, while the opposite was a slew of computer monitors. So far, it was Tony's favorite room. Tony didn't miss the scanner on the door outside. It looked like a hand print would be needed to enter this room.

"Ah, the war room." Tony had quipped, to which Rogers had simply arched one of those damn supercilious eyebrows of his. As his lips parted Tony sighed and waved him away. "Yeah, yeah, not allowed in here either. Got it, Cap."

Shaking his head, Steve led them out of the war room and toward the staircase that lead upstairs. Jaw tight, Steve led him up the stairs that overlooked the living room - explaining that there was also an indoor gym in the basement, but he would need permission to enter. There was a long stretch of hallway. Steve's bedroom was on one end, and there were two more guest bedrooms that were, unsurprisingly, off limits. Tony let out a sigh.

"This might go quicker, Rogers, if you just showed me the parts of the house I'm allowed to enter."

Steve turned to stare at him, his blue eyed glare like a punch to the gut with the barely concealed disdain burning there.

"Keep it up, Stark, and the only part of the house you'll be allowed in will be the attic."

A frisson of unease trailed up Tony's spine. He clicked his teeth shut, the prior amusement he felt bleeding from his eyes until only a mask of polite interest was left. Despite his best efforts his knee-jerk reaction was to tilt his head to the side, baring his neck to the penetrating stare of his Alpha. Tony tried to cover the movement by slapping his hand to massage the back of his neck in an aw-shucks manner as he hitched his duffel higher up on his other shoulder.

"Heard, Alpha." Tony gave a charming smile to the brooding Alpha who was staring at him with narrowed eyes. At least his gaze didn't seem to be hostile but more...measuring. Either way, though, Tony wasn't a fan. His stomach was clenching, squirming really, beneath that stare. Steve couldn't possibly know that Howard Stark had done that exact same thing to him when he'd been 17 years old. For more than 8 months Tony had been cooped up in the attic at his family home. To be fair, the Stark mansion was large, and the attic had been expansive. But to be without company, sunlight, or even work or school to distract him… Tony shuddered. He hated to be confined. Fucking hated it. And then the whole debacle in Afghanistan and the cave… Yeah, suffice to say Tony did not do well with small, confined, spaces of any kind.

Steve's lips parted as if he wanted to say something, then with a gruff shake of his head he turned, beckoning Tony to follow him.

"Here's the upstairs guest bathroom, you can use this one." Tony stuck his head in briefly, taking in the sparse bathroom. White tile, standing shower, toilet, and sink. The basics. He nodded before following Steve to the last door at the end of the hall.

Rogers hesitated a moment, hand on the knob and shoulders stiff as if he was debating with himself. Tony shifted nervously behind him. He was really hoping that Rogers wasn't rethinking that whole attic situation. Tony had to remember that he was at this man's mercy. And although from all accounts Rogers was a stand up Alpha and an all around good guy… well, their past was an ugly one. If the man wanted to throw him in a padded room in the basement and throw away the key he had the right to do so.

Clenching his jaw on his panicked thoughts, Tony resisted the urge to keep shifting his weight from foot to foot. He was thanking his lucky stars that his heat suppressants also muted his scent and those of his emotions when Steve turned the knob, opened the door, and stepped clear of the door way.

"This is where you'll be staying."

Tony's lips twitched upwards in amusement. It seemed that Rogers was capable of holding a grudge afterall. The room he stepped into was small by anyone's standards. If Tony had to hazard a guess he would say his "room" used to be a walk-in linen closet. There was a small, thin, twin mattress on the floor and a couple of built-in shelves that lined the left side of the room. There was enough room to stand in it, at least. With a shrug, Tony gave a silent Steve a small nod as if to say he wasn't expecting much else.

"Great. Thanks." He slung his duffel on the floor. "Is it okay if I unpack or?" Tony arched an eyebrow at Steve who was staring piercingly at him.

"Yeah, well, I guess I'll let you get settled in then." Rogers said briskly. "I'd like to talk to you in a bit about some household expectations. Go over things again."

Of fucking course he did. Man with the plan, Captain fucking America.

"Sure thing Rogers." Tony said agreeably, flopping down onto the edge of his "bed". "Say in," he glanced down at his watch "an hour?"

Steve nodded before walking away, his jaw tight and his steps measured. When Tony could hear his new Alpha walking down the stairs then, and only then, did he allow his head to fall into his cupped hands.

"Fuck."

Being a super soldier came with its advantages. So that softly muttered expletive still reached Steve's ears and made the back of his neck go hot and stiff with a strange mixture of satisfaction and shame. Gritting his teeth he walked toward the office, or as Tony had aptly dubbed it, the war room. He was struggling with coming to terms with the unexpected turn his life had recently taken.

There were few people in this world that Steven Rogers actively hated, and Tony Stark just happened to be one of them. As a kid, briefly, he had looked up to Tony. King of Trinity High School, he was rich, funny, and charming. He flunked every class he was enrolled in and yet the teachers and staff still genuinely loved him. He was nice to almost everyone… except, for some still as yet to be discovered reason, him. Steve had no idea what it was that he had done to Tony Stark. Maybe it was being a poor kid from the wrong side of the tracks at a rich kid school. Maybe it was that he had been born scrawny and skinny and scrappy, an easy mark for most bullies. Hell, maybe Tony just didn't like his shade of blue eyes. He had spent enough time glaring in to them, after all.

It really hadn't taken long for Tony to make his dislike of Steven known. Being shoulder checked in the hallway, shoved into lockers, his books slapped out of his hands, his locker and all the belongings inside of it defaced… these were just small things Tony had done to him as a freshman on a daily basis . The animosity and bullying had only gotten worse after the injection of serum as a sophomore. He had shot up overnight, beefed out, and thought that Stark wouldn't dare to touch him then.

How wrong he had been. The pranks had only gotten worse. More dastardly. More humiliating. In the end Stark had humiliated him in front of the entire school, and then had the audacity to knock up Steve's girlfriend, Peggy. When he had heard Stark making disparaging remarks about Peggy, having no intention of making an honest girl out of her, Steve's control had finally snapped. He'd beaten Stark bloody up and down the halls of Trinity. And Stark? That crazy bastard had merely spat out a mouthful of blood and laughed.

Peggy moved away and not long after Stark was expelled. He had not cropped up until years later when he began working beneath his dad at Stark Industries. They said he was smart, graduated from MIT, but Steve doubted Stark even graduated high school. Those degrees had all been bought by Daddy dearest, always covering up for his less than stellar son.

How an honorable man like Howard Stark had begotten a weasel like Tony, Steve would never know. If it hadn't been for Howard Stark Steve would still be a poor, weak, kid from Brooklyn. He and Bucky both had earned one of the coveted SI scholarships. Upon meeting Howard for the first time Steve had had an asthma attack that had nearly killed him. Concerned, Mr. Stark had offered a new medicine his company was developing. It would be risky but it could potentially take care of the asthma, the allergies, and the illnesses that Steven was riddled with. It had done more than that. Much more. Steve owed everything to Howard Stark. Which was the only reason he had agreed to Tony's proposal.

Clenching his jaw he collapsed into his chair. He was ashamed of himself. Ashamed that he had spent the day cleaning out the storage closet and making Tony's new bedroom as sparse and uncomfortable as possible without crossing the border of down right neglect. He just couldn't help it. There was too much history there. Too many memories. Steve tried to imagine how Tony felt, but it was hard.

It was hard to imagine his high school bully as anything but an egotistical, snot nosed, Alpha. And although it appeared as if Tony was still the same egotistical asshole, he sure as hell wasn't an Alpha. Steve didn't know how he had missed it before. How the entire world hadn't seen through the smoke screen Tony threw up around himself. An Omega shoulder checking him in the hallway? An Omega tripping him? Pushing him down the stairs? It went against their very nature to hurt others. So why the hell had Tony narrowed in on him? Focused on making Steve's life a living hell and no one else's?

Tony had always been above the law. Brash and wild. He did whatever he wanted whenever he wanted to. Even Howard had not been able to reign in the young Tony Stark. Steve's eyes narrowed. He wouldn't make the same mistake. Afterall, Tony was Howard's son and there was bound to be some familial love there. There was none of that between Tony and himself. Tony was going to find that his days of doing whatever the heck he wanted were over.

And yet… Steve lightly drummed his fingers against his lips, brow furrowed in concentration. There was something different about Stark. Definitely less hostile and volatile then he remembered. There was a certain...vulnerability to him now. Steve had never been a fan of bullies, especially ones that picked on the weak. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He didn't like that this thing with Stark was turning him into someone he wouldn't be able to respect. He had to lay down boundaries for Tony. Had to make sure that by bringing him into his pack, Tony wouldn't ruin their good reputation as he did to his father's pack. But, he promised himself, he would try to be fair. Stern but fair. He would try to do better, because for better or worse, Tony was his mate now and he was stuck with the little shit for the foreseeable future.

Notes: Well, there it is. Chapter 2. Once again I want to apologize for any grammatical errors and reiterate that I, in fact, suck at editing/spelling/grammar. So... Thank you all for hanging in with me and reading. Your reviews mean so much and make me smile, it's fun to get the notifications and nerd out for a bit in the middle of the day. I was originally going to write this fic entirely from Tony's POV, but if I did that I feel like poor Steve would be so hated that everyone would come after him with torches and pitchforks. So, you also heard from Steve in this chapter about some of the things Tony did to him in high school. Makes his anger understandable, and something he is going to struggle with in the upcoming chapters. Please keep in mind that with young Tony, not everything is as it seems. He was definitely a mean little shit, but not a completely terribly mean little shit. :P I hope you enjoyed this chapter!