Shiro I
Shiro opened his eyes. He groaned, rolling over, vision blurry. He slowly sat up, rubbing his head, finally taking in the stench that clung to the room. Another Omega was in his bed, one he had been dating for some time. Last night, she had convinced him to knot her, but it was clear he hadn't, for she wasn't in his bed. Clearly, frustrated, she had left in the night.
He felt disgusted. She was just another Omega trying to get herself pregnant with his genes. As a Prime Alpha, he was stronger than the average Alpha, thus his genes were desired. He closed his eyes, sighing. After a moment, he got to his feet, moving to the bathroom, deciding to shower. Once he was clean, he walked back into his room, toweless. Since he lived alone, he didn't think anything of walking around naked. He grabbed a pair of boxers from his dresser, then grabbed his customary black jumper. The colour highlighted the white of his hair, the scar across his face, but he didn't care about that; he had always worn black, it became him.
The town square was bustling today. It was a Saturday, so every single Alpha and Beta who weren't bonded were there for the weekend Fair, where families sold their Omega children for money to survive the next month. Ah, the blissful hierarchy, where Omegas were used as Breeding Machines and Alphas were seen as royalty, since there were so few. Most families, when their children presented, they were never Alphas, normally Betas. Families whose children presented as Omegas were looked down upon, as if they were a disease.
The sun was beginning to set as Shiro finally walked to the Fair, a loaf of bread in his hand. He cast a smile to the ringmaster, then cleared his throat. It wasn't uncommon to see him bring food for the Omega children, nor was it uncommon to see him become sick moments after, for he couldn't stand the sight. So, the loaf in his hand, he disappeared behind the curtain. Only one child remained, a youth of 14, not yet flowered by the fear-scent that clung to her -- no, that wasn't a girl. The scent wasn't right. He allowed the child to see him as he knelt. He leaned forward, drawing his nose over their scent glands. The smell was sour, but it didn't bother him. In fact, it drew him in, urging him to breath deeper. There. He caught the distinct male scent beneath the mountain scent, and he closed his eyes for a long moment to clear his head. Finally, he got a good look at the boy, and grew sick as he took in the sight of his battered body. Quietly, he placed the bread in his hands, explaining that he would be right back, before going to speak to the ringmaster.
"The boy," he said, narrowing his eyes. "Who's the parents?" The ringmaster picked at something between his teeth, before replying. "The Holt kid? She's the only one who didn't sell. No one wanted the little cunt, even after they saw how pretty she was." Shiro slammed the man into a support beam, eyes dark. "That child in there is not a daughter! If you took a moment to smell him, you would know that! He's sick. I'm taking him with me." The ringmaster didn't dare argue, simply handed Shiro a battered old collar and chain, which was immediately thrown at some poor patron on accident. He stormed back to the child, who quaked beneath his dark gaze. He blinked, before kneeling before him. "What's your name," he asked softly, managing a small smile. "P-Pidge," the boy choked out, trembling. "Well, Pidge, I'm happy to tell you, that, from now on, I'll protect you. Can you stand?" Slowly, Pidge nodded, slightly wobbling as he rose to his feet, which were clad in heels. Frowning, Shiro knelt once more. "Actually, sit back down real fast," Pidge was more than happy to comply. Carefully, Shiro removed the heels, gasping when he saw how swollen Pidge's feet were. A low growl rose from his throat, and Pidge immediately shrunk away.
Shiro, after freeing Pidge, carried him to the nearest clothing shop, letting him pick out whatever he desired. When he was certain the boy was distracted, he slipped next door, curious. After a good minute, he returned, holding something behind his back. Pidge cautiously showed him three outfits he had picked out. Each were green in some way, and he smiled, nodding. As they were going to the counter, he cleared his throat. "Pidge? I.. I'm not entirely sure how you prefer these, but I got the smallest sizes they had. If they're too small, we can exchange them." He quietly handed him the package he had kept hidden. Pidge slowly opened the box, speechless and breathless as four new binders winked up at him. He looked up at Shiro, tears entering his eyes. He couldn't speak, so he carefully hugged the taller male, crying out in pain as his offending front anatomy abused the wounds on his chest, making blood well beneath the pink lace of his dress.
Shiro sighed, sitting down on his bed. In the bathroom, Pidge was quietly crying as he showered. Shiro couldn't do anything about Pidge's chest wounds until he was clean and free of blood, but the ones he could fix, he was more than grateful that he had needle and thread. The thread was a disolvable type, but it didn't react to water, so Pidge was safe to shower. Hearing silence, Shiro got up, scared as he slowly opened the door after knocking. Within, Pidge was seated on the edge of the tub, breathing rapidly, tears flowing down his face. Shiro didn't think twice before he was kneeling in front of the young boy, eyes wide with fear. He didn't bother to think about the anatomy that offended Pidge as he gently hugged him. His mind wasn't like other Alphas. The only thing that mattered to him was making sure Pidge was safe and alright. It was the only thing that mattered...