AUTHOR'S NOTE: In the series Tied In Knots, this work Stuck In The Rut is a prequel to the first installment Little Black (And White) Dress.
The fake song A Little Party Never Killed Nobody's Pack is inspired by A Little Party Never Killed Nobody by Pink. The fake tv show Alphadale High is a direct reference to the travesty that is Riverdale.
This is based on mainly the 2012 film, with a good amount of the book. The only difference is Katie Hall (from the Les Mis 25th concert) is forever and always my Cosette. Otherwise, I use the 2012 film cast.
A little party never killed nobody's pack
So we gonna dance until we drop
A little party never killed nobody's pack
Right here, right now's all we got
As a fraternity keg party rages, music pulses through the Manhattan street.
New York University student Éponine hopes to see the beta Marius, who is the only reason the omega freshman stays sane during classes. She had met Marius a few years earlier, when Éponine and her mother began cleaning the luxurious penthouse overlooking Central Park. This is the first time Éponine has been to Luc-Esprit Gillenormand's apartment as a guest, and not to scrub the floors. And despite all odds, she continues to dream of Marius.
She adjusts her green dress, praying her hair survived the subway from the Bronx to Manhattan. This is the last hurrah in April, before the battlefield that is Dead Week and final exams. She fully intends to enjoy tonight as the bass beat shakes the pavement. Pulling her high heel out of a grate, she goes inside.
The penthouse itself is full to overflowing, smelling like alcohol, pheromones, and too much Axe body spray. It is filled with students dancing under a disco ball as blinding lights flash. A Little Party Never Killed Nobody's Pack blares from the speakers. There is a table with red Solo cups, crumpled chip bags, bowls of half-eaten dip, and a massive keg. Theodule does a handstand over the barrel to chug beer from the tap. Meanwhile frat dudes, from the male alpha-exclusive Pi Kappa Alpha, chant the name of Marius' cousin. It is the star quarterback Theodule's fifth year while unable to commit to yet another major. He's tried the departments of political science, business, finance, and now communications. But it's clear the football alpha's focus of study is hedonism, not academia.
"Theodule! Theodule! Theodule!"
Éponine takes a red cup, checks the beer for anything suspicious, and goes through the mass of people down the hall. She knows every inch of the grand apartment after keeping it spotless. Gillenormand will have an aneurysm if he finds out about the party, she thinks. Taking a cigarette pack from her purse, she is about to go outside.
But then she sees Marius and Cosette on the balcony.
Grief aside at losing Marius, it reminds Éponine that Cosette is everything she is not. Éponine is too tall and bony, but Cosette is short with curves and has a habit of stress baking. Both omegas, the social work major is outspoken and intimidating, while the pretty med student is sweet. The brunette has been told she has an alpha's personality; the blonde is everything omegas are supposed to be.
"As I'm a beta," Marius is saying, "it's not a problem for you that I can't have kids? What if we get married one day, and you want a family?"
"I still love you as a beta," Cosette replies. The blonde omega reaches for his hand. "I've had enough of toxic alphas, anyway."
Éponine walks away, knowing she shouldn't be listening to this. No one wants sharp, abrasive gutter trash like her for a mate.
"Well, hello there!" a voice shouts in her ear.
Éponine turns to see Marius' cousin clutching a red plastic cup. "Uh, hi."
"M'name's Theodule," the alpha mumbles drunkenly as he lurches for her. He wears a backwards baseball cap, and is trying to grow patchy facial hair. His cut and frayed Tshirt is missing so much of the sleeves that it barely counts as a shirt.
"Éponine." She steps back, because he smells wrong. Not just like alcohol, but his rotten egg pheromones almost make her gag.
"I'm the Pi Kappa Alpha president. Or as we call it, Pike."
"Why doesn't that surprise me. I know your cousin, actually."
"Really?" He openly stares at her cleavage. "I'd like to get to know you better, 'mega."
"See you around," she says vaguely, and escapes into the crowd.
The kitchen is relatively quiet and empty, except for one familiar figure. Enjolras leans against the counter, looking fine as hell in dark jeans, red varsity jacket, and black cotton shirt that says Real Alphas Support Omega Rights. Even while nursing her broken heart over Marius, she isn't blind. Enjolras is by far the most handsome student on campus. The junior has golden curls, piercing blue eyes, and a jawline sharp enough to cut glass. Even the pro-omega catchphrase on his clothes makes her mating glands thrum with a beat of simmering desire.
Marius and Theodule's grandfather is the soon-to-retire New York Mayor, likely to be replaced by the candidate Listolier. But Enjolras' family makes Gillenormand's fortune look like pocket change. Enjolras' father is a Massachusetts senator rumored to be campaigning for Vice President. Éponine knows for a fact about his parents' yacht, sportscars, and mansion in Boston. Yet he has never once flaunted his money. Many millionaire's heirs would stay in the world of champagne and luxury. But Enjolras is a criminal justice major heading for the FBI National Academy. Most people talk a good game, but he does something about it.
But then she sees Enjolras rub his temples, eyes closing with a pained sigh.
"Hiding in the kitchen to escape the party?"
He smiles when he sees her. "Éponine, hey."
"Are you alright?"
He takes off his letterman's jacket, and his Tshirt fits him almost too well. She tries not to stare at his biceps. "I have a splitting headache."
She perches to sit on the counter, and swallows her beer. "Again?"
He glances at her long legs before looking away. The stilettos are the most expensive items she owns, a rare confidence bolster for the omega. "I've had chronic migraines my entire life. It's nothing new."
"Still, that sounds awful."
He stretches his neck, and she sees the tension in his shoulders. Then she notices sweat on his forehead, and his pupils are dilated. Even through the thick aroma of liquor and cologne, she catches the scent of alpha musk. And there is only one person she knows who smells like a bonfire.
"Holy shit," she says quietly as she jumps down from the counter. "Are you in rut?"
He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Trying not to. But yes, it's starting. I was so busy with Dead Week I forgot to take suppressants."
"Why didn't you say anything?"
"I don't want to become a slave to my biology. Or turn into someone like Theodule. I refuse to be that alpha."
"You don't have to stay here if you feel like hell."
"I know. But making it to my dorm isn't easy when my migraine is this bad. Feels like someone is digging a screwdriver into my head."
"I'll take you to your hall," she says loyally.
"You don't have to–"
"You've walked me home before. I'm returning the favor. Come on." It's not easy to make it through the dancefloor, but they finally reach the door.
"Hey, you, Trust Fund Guy!" Theodule slurs as he weaves on unsteady legs. "Don't leave!"
"My name is Enjolras, not Trust Fund Guy."
Beer sloshes from the fraternity president's cup. "But you have a fund, right?"
Enjolras' jaw clenches. "Alright, fine, yes. What's your point?"
"You're taking Éponine with you!" Theodule's bloodshot gaze scans the omega's body hungrily. "Don't keep her all to yourself, we can share her! I wanted to see how she looks on my knot!"
As he punches Theodule, Enjolras' growl causes the mating glands on Éponine's neck to throb. A bolt of desire runs through her body. She never cared for traditional presentationism, kept omegas staying at home while alphas defended their helpless mates. But she's tired of going through life alone, and Enjolras is the only truly worthy alpha that Éponine has ever known. Maybe it's the party or the alcohol, but Enjolras has never been more attractive.
The frat alpha clutches his bleeding mouth as his golden-haired rival towers over him. "If you harass her and lay one finger on her–!" Enjolras snarls.
Theodule retorts, "Oh, someone's protective of their little mate!"
"Come on," Éponine says, pulling Enjolras out the door.
"Now I can actually hear myself think," Éponine comments once she and Enjolras are on the street.
"Remind me to never go to Theodule's parties," he sighs.
"Once was enough. I'm not going again either. But thanks for knocking his teeth in for me."
He smiles. "Anytime."
"So let's talk about something other than that knothead. How far is your dorm?"
"Only two blocks, thankfully."
She tries to distract him from his cycle. "Did you hear Senator Félix Tholomyès embezzled from the government?"
"Isn't he the biological father of Cosette?"
She nods. "Unfortunately, yes. She cut off contact with him, though. How are classes going?"
He shrugs. "Fine. I have an office hours meeting with Professor Lamarque on Monday. How's the semester for you?"
She ignores his question. "What's your final paper on again?"
"That betas should be treated equally, regardless of reproductive status."
"Amen to that. Every damn film is always a beta who doesn't know they're an omega. Not a beta staying a beta. The focus is always on how fertile omegas are." She rolls her eyes. "And Hollywood obsesses over our ability to have pups. The amount of movies objectifying female and male carriers… Alphadale High was awful."
"Exactly. Here's the thing. The world used to reduce omegas to their wombs."
"Still does," she comments dryly.
"So why have we reverted so far back to that, about omegas and betas? I'm not saying to get rid of all of the omega movies. But let's also talk about betas. Here's my dorm."
She looks up at the grand, gothic hall. It reminds her that she can't afford campus housing, and instead lives in her folks' dive of an apartment. "Combeferre's out this weekend," he explains. "Applying for an obstetrics-gynecology internship at Mount Sinai Hospital. Which residence hall are you in?"
She picks at her chipped black nail polish. "Uh, I commute. I mean, NYU is one of the most expensive universities in the country. I've cobbled together just enough scholarships for my freshman year. Every single pell grant and award I could get my hands on. But nothing is certain for sophomore year."
"I didn't mean to judge–"
"You didn't know. Can you make it to your room from here?" she asks.
"Yeah. Thanks for coming with me. Will you be okay getting home?"
"I'll survive. See you around, Enjolras."
"See you, Éponine."
She glances back with a smile at him as she walks away.
When Éponine shows up on Monday for the OM101 Omega Studies Seminar, Enjolras' chair is empty.
"Where is he?" she asks Marius as the redhead takes the desk beside her in the lecture auditorium. Éponine won't verbally admit she dressed intentionally to see Enjolras, but it's true. She knows she looks good in a black leather jacket, tight red tank top, frayed shorts, and combat boots.
"I don't know," the beta admits. "Enjolras never skips class."
Marius opens a newsfeed on his phone as Félix Tholomyès appears on the screen. "I deny allegations of embezzlement. That is precisely what these claims are, rumors which are unfounded–"
Then Marius gets a call. The elementary education major sighs. "Well, this will be fun. Hello, Grandfather."
"Marius!" Gillenormand bellows so furiously that even Éponine winces. "What did you do to the penthouse?!"
"Let me explain!" Marius hisses. "Theodule hosted the party, not me! For the record, I was the only one to clean until three in the morning! Theodule just hurled in the sink, and passed out on the couch!"
"Now see here–!"
"I have to go, class is starting."
The kind Dr. Maximilien Lamarque comes to their row in the auditorium seating. The dean of the Secondary Gender And Presentationism Studies Department, he is the favorite faculty among students. "Have either of you seen Enjolras? He was supposed to talk with me this morning, but he never showed up."
"I think he's ill, professor," Éponine offers. She refuses to out someone's mating cycle without their consent. Not even an alpha deserves that.
Éponine can barely focus the rest of the day. As night falls, she bolts from PSYCH240 Pack Behavioral Psychology. The omega hurries to the Beta's Bodega corner store, picks up takeout from the Café Musain, and then goes straight to the dorm building.
When she knocks on his door, Enjolras calls, "Whoever it is, now is not a good time!"
"It's Éponine. I came to check if you're alright. No one's seen you all day."
The door opens. "Éponine?"
She's never seen him in full rut before, and he looks even worse than Saturday. He has flushed skin, pupils blown wide, clothes and hair damp with sweat. Calling the sight rare doesn't begin to describe seeing the formal Enjolras in a casual tank top and sweats. Once again, his toned arms are downright unfair. He clutches the door frame, lightheaded, but his pheromones are so strong that it makes her dizzy. The scent is as if she is in front of a forest fire.
He is just as surprised to see her. "What're you doing here?"
She hands him the first plastic grocery bag. "I bought you some things. Gatorade, anti-rut inflammation meds, protein bars, gland patches." Then she gives him the takeout bag. "And a panini sandwich from Café Musain. Didn't know what suppressant brand you're on. But I can pick up a prescription from a pharmacy if you call it in."
"Thanks, but why are you doing this for me?"
She looks down at her combat boots. "I know what it's like to feel lonely and abandoned on your mating cycle. I didn't want to you to feel that there's no one there for you." She meets his gaze. "I'm here, Enjolras."
He leans forward, and she sways instinctively to him, certain he is about to kiss her. He looks at her mouth, and she looks at his. Her body aches to be flush with him. "Éponine, I…"
But he steps back. "I don't want you to feel obligated, or pressured into sleeping with me."
"No one's forcing me." She almost says, What if I want to kiss you, not just bed you? What if I think I could love you?
"I think it's best if we're just…" He swallows, hard. "Friends."
His words are like a punch to her gut. "Okay, fine, whatever." She blinks back tears. "I was just trying to help."
"Éponine–"
She leaves without looking behind her.
Éponine goes to her family's shoebox of an apartment in the Bronx.
Her father is chain smoking on the old plaid sofa, as her mother watches the trashy dating show The Alpha Bachelor. "Ya know, I'm thinking about opening a maid café," Thénardier comments. "The Sergeant de Waterloo Bar doesn't have enough profit." Éponine ignores him.
Rain starts to fall, but she climbs on the fire escape anyway. The storm matches her mood. The omega knows she will likely have to drop out of NYU very soon, at the end of the spring term. Start waitressing at the Café Musain or the Corinthe, perhaps, anything to pay the bills. Then the hope shatters that she didn't even know she had for Enjolras, and she cries. She swipes at the tears that slide down her face, shivering in the rain. She just went through this with Marius, and now Enjolras? Is she always destined to be alone?
She might not be in heat herself, but his rut affected her. The omega closes her eyes with a sigh of longing. Éponine presses her fingers to her swollen neck gland, and pretends it is Enjolras' mouth on her skin.
It don't mean a thing if I give you my omega heart
If you tear it apart, no, oh oh oh oh
It don't mean a thing if I ain't in your eyes
Alpha, that ain't gonna fly, oh oh oh oh
AUTHOR'S NOTE: The phrase Real Alphas Support Omega Rights was inspired by a photo of a guy at a protest holding a sign that said "real men are feminists". It was hot.