The title 'Old games and food' was not the most imaginative, but again, it was absolutely apt. A good half of the space was occupied by old arcade game machines, the kind you see mostly in movies nowadays, with the typical crunching music and beeping mixed with nineties pop tunes. Some of the seating was folding tables and chairs, and a smaller number were booths in much better condition than the ones they had in the diner where he worked. And while he was at it... he loved the green apron his boss had made him wear last time. He really did. Because he could have ended up with a horrible red and yellow striped imitation of the old mcdonald's uniforms that the staff here were forced to wear.
To add to the atmosphere, the walls were covered with old posters advertising not only video games, but old game consoles and computers, as well as posters of movie classics of the era.
Becky looked delighted as she forced them to walk between the machines instead of settling down to eat, and Lisa nodded along, quite willing to be drawn into a conversation about nineties movies and TV shows. Kev... he kept to himself and didn't seem at all thrilled with Sammy's presence. Which on one hand was comical, because the little Alpha was doing nothing but paying absolute attention to some book he had downloaded there, head down and eyes glued to the screen of his new iPhone. On the other hand... Even though Sam was twelve - or, as he would say in a moment, thirteen - he was almost as tall as Dean, so taller than Kevin, and he was Alpha. If the other Omega only had experience with nodules like Forest, it was no wonder he didn't like being around any Alpha.
He threw an arm around Sammy's shoulders.
"Hey, buddy... you wanna go talk to Kev? He likes D.C. comics like you do."
"I'm reading," Sam replied without looking up from the screen.
"You won't get away with the book," he replied, snatching the phone from him, ignoring the fact that the little Alpha growled angrily and raised half his upper lip to show his fangs, as if he could intimidate him with this ridiculous behavior.
"Go make friends," he ordered to Sam's clearly visible displeasure.
"I'm not an Omega, you know that, right?" Alpha retorted; Dean raised an eyebrow questioningly. "I don't feel the need to be friends with everyone right away, Dean. As an Alpha, I like my space. Plus..." he paused, casting a glance at Kevin, who was currently looking at the drawings on one of the machines, "he's an Omega. He might not be comfortable with me wanting to hang out with him."
He squinted his eyes suspiciously.
Sam was full of these crazy ideals about Omega rights and that all subgenders should be equal and whatnot. His school bag was so full of pucks with slogans and flags on them that it could be used in place of a bulletproof vest. No one had ever thought to tell him that he shouldn't be talking to Omega or Beta just because he was Alpha, so what's the big deal... oh, wow!
"You like Kevin!" He exclaimed triumphantly when he realized what was going on.
"Shhh!" the Alpha hissed, and a cloud of scent rolled out of him that was a mixture of deep embarrassment and anger. "That's not true, so shut up!"
"Oh-ho! Sammy's in love! Sammy's got a crush," he began to croon.
"Shut up! That's not it! He just smells like honey cookies. I want to eat him," he literally growled the last line, deep and heartfelt with true Alpha power born deep in his chest and clawing its way through his bared teeth. As soon as that possessive Alpha growl came out, Sam tensed all over, the color draining from his face along with what sour dismay filled his scent. "Oh my... what did I just..." He turned startled eyes towards him. "That's not how I wanted to talk about him, I swear! It was just... it just came out of me..."
"Hey, relax, pup, you're an Alpha and you like a pretty Omega." He patted him on the shoulder. "As long as you don't treat him like a stuck-up dick, it's not a problem."
"And what if I do, even if I don't want to?"
"Then I'll stuff scorpions in your briefs. Or clown noses. You get to choose." He shrugged casually.
The little Alpha gave him a look that said he wasn't amused by the answer.
He rolled his eyes. Sam was just a jerk. Most Alphas his age were already spending long private moments in the showers and starting to snoop, literally and figuratively, around the Omegas they were naturally drawn to before the Betas. Only his stupid brother was such a big intellectual nerd with his nose perpetually buried in books that, while he was fluent in Spanish and so good at math he could be an accountant on the spot, he hadn't figured out how to jerk off.
A little puppy crush might give him a little nudge, and at least Kev would see that not all Alphas were jerks.
"Follow him, be nice and talk about Batman," he instructed, grabbing his shoulders and nudging him towards Kev.
"He's the same age as you," Sam let out something of a protest.
"Yeah, well... I wouldn't plan a wedding yet, but you can be friends."
"'Jerk,'" the little Alpha grumbled.
"Bitch," he replied with a grin that widened even wider as Sam did as he suggested with a sigh and shuffled off after Kevin.
Leaning against one of the vending machines, he pulled out his cell phone to check for any messages from Alpha - it was after four in the afternoon, but the cabin was quiet. As if perhaps it gave him space to enjoy himself with his friends...? - he watched at the same time as Sam approached Kevin and struck up a conversation with him. He wasn't sure whether to groan loudly at the awkwardness he saw or giggle. Definitely giggle at Sammy's strange attempt to puff out his chest and show off his full height and emaciation to show what a dominant Alpha he was. Kevin, of course, wasn't impressed, and looked at Sam rather distantly suspicious, his head bowed appropriately, but his neck so hidden that it was all he could do.
"Have you chosen what game you're going to try?" Lisa's soft voice sounded to his left.
Turning his head, he almost brushed his nose against her cheek, so close she was standing. Her dandelion scent was soft, a little bland as it was with Beth, but pretty and quite a walk to the chamomile that rose from her hair. He could totally picture a meadow in bloom where he would lie down and take a nap.
"No, not yet. I'm keeping an eye on that jerk over there," he nodded his head in the direction he suspected Sammy was.
It was partly true, he was looking out for his brother, but mostly he had absolutely no idea how any of these games were played. The last time he'd played anything other than a game on his cell phone was that summer at Bobby's. About a week after their dad announced they'd be at Bobby's for three long months, the old Alpha surprised them with a new TV and Playstation and some games when they got home from school. Only once was he lucky enough to get his hands on a working, old game machine, and that was some target shooting. There was a plastic replica of a gun in a faded blue color. He broke the record there.
Maybe they had something like that here, he thought, looking over Lisa's shoulder at the nearest aisle of machines.
"Let's find something," Beta decided before taking his hand, much to his surprise. "I've seen a few games for two here. Might be fun to play together," she continued, intertwining their fingers and heading off into the maze of machines, Dean leading the way.
He couldn't resist the sight of her nice, swaying ass in her black jeans, which looked especially good today. As if noticing his gaze, she turned over her shoulder and smiled with intensely red lips, looking up at him from beneath the lidded lids of her beautiful almond-shaped eyes.
He returned her smile.
Lisa laughed softly, tossing her head until a waterfall of scents flowed from her hair together so pleasantly reminiscent of spring that she simply leaned in and reached for him. And he only half-noticed that she'd switched the hands she was holding him with so she could catch her arm in his, press herself against him while not having to untangle their fingers forever.
"You know, notice you sniff me a lot?" she asked, a smile on her face and mirth in her eyes.
"I can't help it." He shrugged. "You smell like a spring meadow."
A little red tinged Lisa's cheeks as she laughed softly again, lowering her eyes for a small moment. When she raised them again, she was no longer laughing but just smiling.
"Can I sniff you?"
Her request was not at all surprising. In fact, probably all the Beta girls he'd been with had asked if they could do it or tried to sniff him without asking. He was never really sure exactly what Betas felt. He certainly couldn't smell all the subtle nuances, the scent compatibility, the emotions and feelings that the scent conveyed. At least, that's sort of how the difference between Alpha and Omegas and Beth's sense of smell was described in biology class. Anyway, all the ones he allowed to sniff agreed that they smelled like pine. One even said it was like her dad working in the sawmill. That was a little scary. Definitely the last thing he wanted was to smell like someone's dad. It totally killed the vibe.
"Sure," he agreed without hesitation, tilting his head to the side to give her good access to his gland.
She untangled their fingers and put her hand on his shoulder. Then she leaned back a little to steady herself as she rose on tiptoe and brought her nose to the crook of his neck. He expected her to sniff with all her might, trying to catch something, and he wouldn't have blamed her, but she sucked in the air very carefully and subtly. Once, twice, three times. She inhaled slowly, her warm breath tickling the skin of his exposed neck.
He was a little amazed at how gently and, somehow, socially appropriate she could smell, but then it dawned on him. She'd dated Marcus' cock, so she had experience with Alpha, and sniffing Omega was no different from sniffing Alpha.
"Pine," she said as she pulled away a little, but only enough so he could look closely into her eyes. "But there's something else... I can't figure it out..." she said thoughtfully, leaning forward again, but this time burying her nose all the way under the collar of his shirt. "Apple tree!" She exclaimed triumphantly, pulling away completely. "You smell like pine and apple blossoms. I like it."
His Omega grunted softly. It never hurt to have someone declare that they liked your scent, and coming from Lisa, he was particularly flattered. He put his arm around her shoulders and leaned in to smell more of her floral scent.
"You smell nice too," he returned her flattery, allowing himself to go so far as to touch his nose to her hair.
She immediately tilted her head to the side while lowering it. A gesture of submission she made almost as naturally as if she were an Omega. It didn't take a genius to figure out that she'd learned that from Marcus, too. How long had she actually been with the angry knot? Becky had said something about them knowing each other in kindergarten and dating for 'forever' as Omega deflated it.
A hell of a long time in Dean's opinion.
"Don't do that," he said, gently cupping her chin and forcing her head up. "I don't need to see your submission."
"Oh... of course, you're an Omega..." she let out a frown, straightening up again so he could look into her eyes... well, at least as much as their height difference allowed. She put a strand of hair behind her ear. "I was with Marcus for a long time. I know how to treat an Alpha, but I have no idea how to treat an Omega. Most of my friends... and family friends... are Betas too, except Becky, but I didn't know her that well until recently. Then there's my mom's friend from work who comes over a lot, but I barely talk to her. She's so nice, smiling, Willi loves her, but she's so quiet. Just... totally Omega. Whereas you're... just you. Definitely nothing you'd expect from an Omega. That was supposed to be flattery, but it sounded terrible. And I'd rather stop talking, like right now..." She exhaled deeply, took another breath, and finally laughed nervously.
"Just act normal. I can take care of myself and I don't need your guidance or... stuff like that, OK?" He said, remembering a few times when Beta girls thought they had to make all the decisions since they couldn't do it as an Omega. Lisa didn't seem like that type, though, and hadn't acted like it until now... "But..." he shook his head, "you pick the first game."
Lise blinked before laughing happily, taking his hand again to lead the way.
°°0°°
Two hours flew by before he even realized how. He spent most of the time with Lisa, trying out different games and shoving enough money into the slot machines to last a week with a little effort, but it was worth it. Lisa's laughter was like the jingle of bells. She had small, warm hands, and when she put them on his back, on his arm or wrist, her touch was gentle. And she smelled like a meadow in bloom. Being in her presence and talking to her was as incredibly easy as it had been in a long time.
None of the thick, hot cherry pie with almond crumble that somehow always stuck in his head and nose. Or the baritone that sounded like its owner was gargling gravel. Or the firm, purposeful grip of a large hand that physically moved him from place to place as Alf pleased. Yeah, there was something about this behavior, something that appealed strongly to his instincts and his Omega, but it was also so... binding. Not like with Lisa. With her, he felt in control, that he could do and say anything and at most embarrass himself. And she didn't expect him to drop his pants right away tonight, and that was something that brought him relief. He wasn't even going to admit it to himself - what the hell? What was he? A clumsy virgin? An idiot who couldn't get laid? Of course not. He was great and the girls loved him - but that was it.
And Sammy had fun, too. Eventually, he managed to convince Kevin that if he wanted to eat him, it was only in the best way, and together they not only started playing, but actually started talking. About astronomy. And not the fun kind where Dean took a blanket and spread it out on the hood of the Baby and then he and the girls watched the stars and talked about how terribly far away they were and what constellations existed.
No, it was the boring kind with actual dates and discussion of the endless lunar wasteland. Who even cared about that? Not him, but if the two of them found common ground in this...? OK, fine. Their thing.
Dean had even managed to find the exact same game he'd played back then, only it was in perfect condition - or rather, it was a copy, because while there was no claim anywhere that they were the original machines, on the other hand, they didn't even admit that they were modern copies - and unfortunately, Alpha had been there the whole time. Like, he really didn't do anything for the whole two hours other than put money in the machine and try again and again to reach the record, but he couldn't. He certainly didn't need to get a coupon for a free meal, because he'd shoved enough into the game for one standard menu just in the time Dean had been watching him, waiting to see if he'd get away from the machine.
"He's not just going to walk away. I bet he'll throw it away when they close up here," Sammy pointed out from looking at the menu tucked under the plastic table top.
"Yeah, I get that impression too," he agreed, frowning at the sight of Alf, who had once again failed to reach the required time limit score and was about to shove more money into the gaming machine. "I'll just go tell him to get a move on, that others want to play the game."
"It's Alpha. He won't listen to you," Kevin said.
"Alpha or not, he should make room for other people. This place is for everyone, not just him," Becky joined in. "But he's suffering," she tossed her head toward the service counter behind which the poor guys in striped uniforms were taking orders, "precisely because he's an Alpha. If he was an Omega, or even a Beta, they wouldn't have let him play this long. I'm sure he doesn't even realize that his subgender allows him everything."
"I think he's a sad sight to behold," Lisa concluded, much to Dean's disbelieving surprise, which he also showed by the scowl he cast her. "Look at him... he's probably been here since we opened, playing an old shooting game and growling at the machine. Doesn't look like he has any family. Maybe he doesn't even have a job. It must be a terrible life for an Alpha."
He turned back to Alpha.
She was sort of right. Alpha was a chubby man in his thirties, dressed in old sweatpants with his knees pulled up and a canvas jacket, and on his feet were flip-flops that he stuffed over his warm socks. He looked like a complete failure in life, not just by Alpha standards but by everyone else's standards, and all he had left was a slot machine with a game for the kids. He really should do something about himself, but truthfully... his problems weren't Dean's problem. Dean just wanted to play a game.
"Especially since he shouldn't be throwing money at old games. This isn't even Vegas. He can't hit the jackpot here," he replied, but by then he was on his feet. "I want to play. Then he'll have to let me go."
"And how are you going to get him to do that?" Kevin asked with a little sneer in his voice.
"Hmm... I know how, unfortunately," Sammy commented.
"I'll tell you something, buddy... as an Omega, you can make any Alpha do literally anything, and do it this way," he snapped his fingers, "easily. Watch and learn, Kev."
"Try not to piss him off. You know Dad's not here to bail you out."
He shot his brother a look of would-be hurt. If he ever pissed off an Alpha, he almost always got himself out of it with the help of his knife or his quick feet, and the few times he didn't didn't even count. The statistics spoke in his favor. Unequivocally.
"Pissed off? How could I piss him off? I just want to tease his nose a little."
"And that's what usually pisses them off."
"That's not my problem."
He left his friend at the table and made his way over to Alf.
As he approached him he actually listened to his Omega and his instincts, which told him things like he shouldn't sneak up from behind or move too confidently. He didn't really want to upset the Alpha, just ask him normally if he could play a game. One game would certainly be enough to get him the highest score (he's improved properly in shooting since he last played it). And despite what his brother thought, he didn't have to make trouble every time the opportunity presented itself. Or at least most of the time he didn't... well, sometimes he didn't. And this particular Alpha really did seem more like a sad case of loser than a horny little knot. Even as he approached him, he found his scent to be so muted, the typical Alpha musk barely asserting itself among the cucumber and peppermint scents. It was nothing like Castiel's scent, which literally screamed at Dean that he was a fertile Alpha with whom he could have a whole bunch of puppies.
He'd tried not to think about Case throughout the afternoon and he certainly wasn't going to start now, so he set his thoughts on him aside and chose an alley that led him out from behind the machine the Alpha was playing. That way, he'd accomplished having Alpha in his sights right away, but of course it wasn't sight that had caught him first. It was his nose. Without scent blockers and wearing a shirt and pants that, except for yesterday, he'd worn in one piece for a week, no Alpha could miss his scent.
First he sucked in air with his head typically raised, then the gun in his hands dropped, and finally he turned his gaze directly on Dean.
"Hey, Alpha," he addressed him as kindly as he could manage at the moment, his shoulders deliberately left relaxed, but his hand ran absently and unconsciously over the edge of the machine.
The alpha looked flustered, smelling confused and looking around as if to make sure Dean was really talking to him and some other alpha standing behind him.
"Are you talking to me, Omega?" He asked in lieu of a greeting and with at least a bit of Alpha condescension in his tone. Apparently, there was at least a residue of dominance in him after all.
"Yeah, right. If that's okay, Alpha..." he added quickly, batting his eyelashes and almost bursting into laughter when the Alpha puffed out his chest, lifting his head and spreading a pleased scent around him. Dude... it was always funny how little it took to get his attention and get what he wanted.
"No. Not at all... do you need anything?" he asked, actually sounding pretty cool. No big Alpha poses, and when he took a small step towards Dean, there was nothing in his movements to warn him of a sniffing nose or groping hands.
"I've been watching you since we got here." He nodded to his friends. "You're really good at it, so I was wondering if you could teach me."
The alpha watched for a moment, as if unsure of what she wanted him to do, but when it finally clicked, he inflated like a balloon, just to puncture it. And with everything Alpha had in him, he stepped closer. He was even already handing him a plastic pistol, he didn't even have to ask if he could borrow it.
"I can do that. I sure can, Omega," he could only interrupt with willingness as he cleared a space in front of the screen. "Come stand over here."
Dean stood on the playing space, seemingly at Alpha's instructions, and deliberately held the light blue gun with its many colored stickers as awkwardly as if it were a banana.
"Have you ever held a gun before? At least in a game?"
"Never, actually," he lied without so much as a blink. He'd learned so well long ago that the lie didn't even show up in his scent simply because... he didn't care that he was lying to someone's face and he wasn't afraid of the consequences, so why should his scent change. Therefore, he could safely follow up with another lie. "My parents won't let me play any games where there are guns. They say it's too violent for the Omegas."
"This is just like shooting a real gun."
He pursed his lips, suppressing a disdainful snort.
He'd never played modern virtual reality games or anything like that. Hopping into a game room just wasn't high on the charts of what money should be spent on. And anyway, dad was of the opinion that knowing how to use a real weapon, set traps for animals or build a fire, was more fun and useful than playing games. So he didn't know about the modern super games, but the old ones certainly weren't anything like real shooting. The color of the gun be damned, the problem was with its absurd proportions, the fact that it was light as a feather and of course had no recoil. Shooting it was just pushing a button, one that looked like the hammer of a gun. But good hand-eye coordination, practiced in actual shooting, certainly didn't hurt.
"You have to hold it like this..." instructed the Alpha, and of course he took the liberty of adjusting his hands to more or less the correct position without asking. Subtly, he adjusted the position of his hands a little, and then bowed his head in a wannabe submissive gesture, just to hide a rueful smile as he saw the Alpha shove coins into the slot machine without hesitation to turn on the game for Dean. He didn't even have to ask him to do it, he just had to be and bear it when the man stood up for him and placed a hand on his upper back. It was pretty clear from the way he did it that he was eager to grab the back of his head, but he didn't have the courage to actually do it. All he could manage was a pleased grunt and an audible snicker, and that was from such a distance that Dean barely felt the Alpha's face tilted towards his head.
The words 'Ready?' appeared on the screen. From what he remembered, he had about half a minute before the game actually started.
"It's easy, Omega. Targets will appear on your screen. They have to try to hit the center of them because that's what gets the most points, okay? And you have a time limit."
"That's exciting, Alpha," he replied, having to bite his lip hard to stop the derisive giggle that escaped his lips as he felt Alpha's hand dig deeper into his back and heard a satisfied grunt.
Another sign proclaimed 'Steady!" and in quick succession, 'Go!" followed by the first target. It was easy as pie. Top right, bottom left, centre and so on and on. Oh man, nothing he couldn't do with one eye covered. Shooting an air rifle at a rat chasing around Bobby's junkyard was a thousand times harder, and he was super good at that too.
He still had eight seconds left in the time limit when he was shaking the last target and the screen flashed 'You're a winner!" along with the beacon mounted on top of the machine. Scoring full points on the first good wasn't a big deal, it really was easy. But he still relished the feeling of being a winner, which was multiplied by Alpha's surprised expression as he turned to hand him back his pistol.
"I think I did pretty well, Alpha. Don't you think?" He batted his eyelashes coquettishly one last time before laughing openly and shaking his head at the sight of Alpha's half disbelieving expression, the first hints of anger beginning to creep in. And with that, his scent turned bitter and he bared his teeth in a small snarl.
"Easy, buddy, easy," he said cheerfully, no longer showing the slightest hint of humility towards his secondary sex as he patted him on the shoulder. "You're not bad, but I'm just better."
"You...!" He growled, but at that moment a Beta in a striped uniform emerged from behind the machine, making him swallow another growl.
Beta measured them both with his gaze, and of course he threw a grin at Alpha.
"Looks like someone won here," he said with a wide grin.
"Yeah. Me," Dean claimed his win and walked over to the attendant leaving Alpha behind without much notice. "What do I get?"
If Beta was surprised at who had won, he was professional enough not to show it and simply turned his beaming smile full of mirth towards Dean.
"Congratulations! You get a coupon for a large bacon cheese fries absolutely free!" With those words, he plucked the coupon from the pad he was carrying and handed it to him.
"Great! Thanks." He accepted the coupon with genuine delight. This place really wasn't like Vegas, it was better. Plastic chips, he'd never cared for that, even in poker he preferred to play for real money even if it was only dimes, but a coupon with a photo of a beautiful bowl of fries topped with a generous layer of cheese... yeah, that was something for him.
In his rush of excitement, he forgot the small detail, but quickly remembered and turned back to Alf. Then he reached into his pocket from where he extracted some coins, the same amount that Alpha had invested in him - a real man pays his debts - and pressed it into the surprised fellow's hand.
"Thanks for the loan. Oh, and I got some advice for you, buddy... get a job. There's nothing sadder than the sight of an adult Alpha spending the day in a children's playroom," he advised him investedly, and then he was off back to their table, leaving the poor attendant in the company of an angry, snarling Alpha. And his shout of "Who wants free fries!" successfully drowned out the minor argument that had broken out behind his back.
°°0°°
"... and next we'll see Olexei Levovich Lukashenko on the ice. This young Alpha from Saint Petersburg..."
"Are you really enjoying watching this, boss?" Pyotr asked.
He looked at him out of the corner of his eye.
They were sitting together in the back room of the Doll, and Pyotr was just enjoying the Beef Stroganoff he had ordered after he had told Castiel about the police's progress in the part of their territory affected by the unfortunate appearance of Carmine. The raids had been a little less than one might expect, as they had contacted a few good friends in high places and handed out a few dozen bribes to hold the police back a bit. Still, the cells were filled with their dealers and hookers and they lost enough merchandise that it would take two months to stock up. Fortunately, they managed to close the gambling houses early, so this way some of their stores weren't too badly affected by the rampage of the police bitches. They may not have made a profit, but at least they didn't lose their equipment and their regular clientele didn't end up in jail.
He raised his glass.
"Handsome boys in tight shirts. How could I not like that?"
There was a tense and awkward silence from his Lieutenant, one that continued to echo after three years of knowing Pyotr. He had really liked the hulking Beta from the first moment, he even had a pleasant marine scent, and so he had put him to the test just a few hours after their meeting when he had asked him to find a gay bar for him and drive him there. Pyotr failed miserably in his choice, because the place he took Castiel to was absolutely horrible. Crowded, full of electronic music and young... though actually older than his Dean... in provocative clothing. A club he wouldn't have gone to otherwise even if they were paying him, but he made an exception for that night and even picked up a heavily made up and by then already high Beta wheelie for a few E tablets, just to see what Pyotr would do.
He politely looked away as Castiel stuffed the giggling boy into the backseat of the Mercedes, and then said nothing when he instructed the hulking Beta to take his nocturnal company wherever he wished in the morning. He didn't even mutter anything under his beard. And that was partly why he then entrusted him with the seat at his right hand. He appreciated that he could appreciate real values like loyalty to the Brotherhood and the ability to lead and overlook what was entirely personal and not related to business. Or even whether someone was a proper Alpha or a man.
Still, Beta remained a little uncomfortable when directly exposed to Castiel's proclivities.
"Just kidding. I'm betting on making it to the national finals." He sipped from his beer before adding: "Handsome lithe boys in colorful leotards are just a free bonus."
After the initial palpable relief on Pyotr's part, there was another tense silence, which Castiel commented on with a glance towards Beta - his eyes fixed on his food - and a wry smile, with which he picked up his cigarettes from the table.
He lit up, inhaling the pleasantly warm smoke and letting it out slowly through his nose as he pulled his cell phone to him and looked at the screen. He couldn't miss the sound of an incoming message because he didn't have the TV turned up that loud, but he still checked his phone every ten minutes. The silence on Dean's end was nerve-wracking, even though he knew where his Omega was and that he was safe because his men still had him under surveillance. He just wasn't used to losing contact with him for so long without it being his own decision. His Alpha growled and whimpered softly, demanding his Omega with such force that he had opened a conversation and almost texted Dean twice in the last three hours or so. This despite his resolution not to.
The need to control Omega's every move or to be constantly at his heels was somewhat unknown to him. He knew and controlled his instincts and his Alpha urges and knew when and how to give them proper vent. Long night car journeys through the streets of their territory to check on the territory he considered his own. Meticulous monitoring of everything that belonged to him and ruthless punishment of anyone who touched it, even if it was just a chummy man feeling up his car. Marking his den, applying his scent to every piece of furniture in his apartment (not to mention less civilized methods of marking during the rut). That pleasant feeling of satisfaction that always made his Alpha boil with a mighty force when he looked at his men sitting at the same table with him and realized that they belonged to him, that they were there for him, waiting for his command. That they were his brothers and his pack.
He knew all that, but the possessive urges he had towards Dean he had never experienced. Nor the strong desire to protect him and literally tear apart with his own hands and teeth anyone who might harm Omega. It was also the reason he couldn't sleep after last night. He was too distraught not only because he hadn't fucked in four weeks and when he finally had the chance, it slipped through his fingers again. It was also about how easily Dean was vulnerable.
At the same time, he was genuinely proud of his behaviour in the bar. He was exactly the kind of Mate he wanted by his side; bold and fiery, who could take care of himself and their pups.
He didn't want to stifle Dean's personality and he was honestly afraid he might.
His experience with Omegas was simply small and consisted mainly of contact with their girls. Most of it had been gleaned from the nearly two years he'd worked the night shift at the porn rental shop that also served as a base for the Bratva guys who kept an eye on the street girls in the surrounding area. He'd seen two types of Omegas there, the ones that were complete wrecks, willing to do anything for a kind word from who they considered their Alpha, and they didn't even have to actually be an Alpha. And then those that still had their personality, but their instincts and inner Omega could shut them down in certain situations and turn them into willing puppets.
That wasn't even talking about the Omegas that were sold as full-fledged sex slaves after they had completed their training. Perfectly submissive, waiting for every command from their Alpha or the master who represented their Alpha, and willing to starve to death just because they weren't allowed to eat.
Omegas were simply prone to manipulation, submissiveness, and giving up their own personality for the benefit of others. And Castiel didn't want that to happen to Dean.
So he gave him as much freedom as he could wish for. He left him free to fend for himself, even when all his instincts screamed for him to take care of him. He let him be himself and tried his best not to do anything that might back Omega into a corner and force him to submit against his will.
It was a battle with himself, with his instincts, with his Alpha. And it was painfully frustrating, but necessary. He didn't want to end up like his father. Or most of his brothers. He couldn't. He was and wanted to be different.
"I'm sure he'll be in touch soon," Pyotr interrupted the stream of thoughts that had begun to spiral into their usual spiral in his mind.
He turned his head sharply towards him, meeting the man's warm, light brown eyes with a friendly smile that expressed support for the person himself.
He pursed his lips and put the phone back on the table.
"Our guys are keeping an eye on him. Nothing can happen to him, Alpha. He's safe," Beta assured him, even using his secondary designation to play on his instinctual string.
"I know he's safe," he replied, taking a drag and slowly releasing the smoke. "He's with his friends."
There was a double knock.
Pyotr rose, a little slowly and heavily as Castiel noticed, rubbing his hip as he walked to the door. Noticing his slightly frowning look, he simply smiled.
"My hip hurts, boss. Winter's really here," he commented on his slight limp before opening the door and looking through the crack.
It was one of them, for Pyotr simply stepped back from the door and let the newcomer enter, and went back to his seat himself. He saw him off with a look. The hulking Beta had one more cross on his back than Castiel and could be said to be one of the veterans. Few of them had lived to such an advanced age, and if they had, it was only because they had managed to get into a nice, comfortable prison, which, while also dangerous, had far fewer enemies than freedom. Celebrating 50 years of freedom? A dream come true.
Reflections on Pyotr were forgotten the moment he noticed the new arrival, Jacob.
It hadn't caused him any real concern, since Jacob's shift at Dean's had ended about an hour ago and Yuri with Boris had duly checked in, but it was still odd that Beta would head here instead of taking a well-deserved rest somewhere in a bar or by the side of a beautiful woman.
"Good evening, batyushka. Pyotr Nikitovich..." he greeted politely, a composed expression on his face, and stood at a safe distance of one meter. "I'm afraid you'll want to see this," he said without further introduction, handing Castiel his cell phone.
He stubbed out his cigarette and took the phone from Beto.
On the screen was Dean's. Judging by the glare, the photo had been taken through a glass window. There didn't seem to be anything special about it. It looked like the dozen photos he'd received from Jacob and Vadim today, showing Dean in front of the school, then in the company of his brother, two girls, and an Asian boy. And finally at the entrance to a gambling hall full of old arcade machines.
In this particular photo, Omega was standing in front of a slot machine covered in colorful wallpaper of racing cars, holding a phone in his hand and his head tilted toward it. He looked gorgeous, as he always did, and he had one of those sweet smiles on his face that Castiel could never get enough of. Looking at the photo like that, he had to smile himself, and with a warm feeling in his chest, he moved his thumb to the next photo.
The picture was of one of the girls he was leaving school with, this time with Dean. A brunette with olive skin wearing black jeans and a blue tank top with a floral pattern. She and Dean were smiling at each other, and he was leaning in too close for Castiel's taste.
The smile faded from his face in a harbinger of something unpleasant as he moved on to the next photo.
The brunette was holding Dean's hand. Next. She pressed against him and he craned his neck in challenge. She had her nose buried in Dean's neck, as if perhaps she had a right to. As if every drop of Dean's scent didn't belong to Castiel. As if Omega didn't belong to him. He moved on to the next frame. The blood began to boil in his veins. Dean buried his nose in her hair. How dare he? Wasn't he getting enough from Castiel? He'd given him his trust, given him all the freedom he could ask for. He'd taken care of him. He'd put more money and resources into him than he had into anything or anyone else at any time in the past. All without getting anything in return. Nothing, not even a fucking blow job.
He gripped the phone tighter and clenched his jaw to keep his expression calm.
The alpha inside him growled furiously, directing his anger not only at the brown-haired bitch who had the audacity to touch something that was his, but also at the ungrateful little Omega whore who dared to betray and humiliate him like this. He should never have given him his freedom. Never. He should have bent him over back in the warehouse, stuffed a knot in his ass and bitten into his sweet-smelling throat. Pair him up and take him with you, just like all his instincts told him to. Most importantly, he shouldn't have been so naive as to trust him without Omega having somehow earned his trust. No, in fact, he should never have even sought to have any trust between them. After all, Omegas didn't need to have trust in their Alphas, they were supposed to follow their orders and wishes, spread their legs whenever they were told and give as many puppies as they were capable of. That's what they were for, just like they always said...
...his brothers and his father.
He took a long breath in through his nose and exhaled very slowly through his mouth, his lips just slightly parted so that it wouldn't be obvious that he was trying to calm down. He had already been humiliated enough by the fact that Vadim and Jacob had seen the Omega he claimed as his own in front of everyone, shamelessly, right out in the open, fucking some brown-haired slut. He didn't have to humiliate himself by losing control. The last thing he wanted was for them to see how weak he was when it came to Dean. That some sneaky Omega could strip him of his control. He had a reputation. He had respect. He was the Ice Lark. Not some pathetic knothead who'd just go into a fit of rage.
He gripped his Alpha firmly by the throat, silencing him and pressing so deeply that when he looked up at Jacob, he was sure his expression didn't reflect a shred of the pent-up rage and... pain of betrayal he'd felt only moments ago. He'd locked it all away nicely inside, where it could slowly rot away like all the other emotions and feelings he'd locked away during his lifetime.
"Find out her name and who she is. Then come to me," he ordered.
Of course the first thing he wanted to say was to simply kill her, but he knew she was a classmate of Omega's. And at first glance, she didn't look like someone who could be made to disappear without at least a little prior preparation. Besides, having her killed and her body made to disappear, as was necessary when they were removing someone who might be of real interest to the police, was too easy. Dean wouldn't learn from that. He wouldn't know the true weight of the punishment for betrayal. And words alone were never enough.
"And the... other one?" Jacob surprised him with a cautious question.
He flicked a glance at him.
The other?
He quickly and idly scanned the other photos, noting that Omega was having a very good time in them, as was obvious at first glance. He was smiling, wrapping his arms around the brunette's shoulders, sniffing her hair and neck, and acting with an ease Castil had never seen in him. He looked so happy that he felt something after all. Jealousy, but a different kind. It wasn't that the little whore had put her hands on his Omega, it was that she could make him laugh. He was still just happy in her presence, not a hint of fear or tension anywhere. He could imagine his scent too, sweet, heady, cheerful, with no sour undertones. Why could she have this and Castiel not? That was a question he didn't know the answer to, and he wasn't going to look for it. The brown-haired whore would disappear from his Omega life one way or another, and then it wouldn't matter what the answer was.
The last image of the brunette disappeared and he finally understood who Jacob had in mind.
In the next frame, Dean stood at the vending machine, his head cockily tilted as he showed his neck to some poor Alpha whose subgender he could only tell by the way Omega was treating him. Certainly not by posture or clothing. And his assumption that it was the Alpha was only confirmed by the fact that in the next picture he was standing behind Dean's back, holding his hand high on his back, almost on his neck. Other than that, he was garbage at first glance. He's a fat pig. A loser. No one that anyone would miss.
He was perfect.
"Find. Eliminate. Document," he answered Jacob's question with icy calm and handed him his phone.
"Aye aye, boss."
He took a long drag from his nearly spent cigarette, holding the smoke in his lungs to get as much of the pleasantly soothing nicotine as he could, and let it out slowly between words as he smothered the butt in the ashtray.
"You can go."
"Thank you... boss..." He nodded to both him and Pyotr before turning and quickly leaving the room.
A questioning silence could be heard from the hulking Beta, broken only by the voice of the commentator talking about who was currently on the ice and what was going on. The silence stretched on until Pyotr finally gathered the courage to ask:
"Everything all right, boss?"
"Yes. Everything's fine," he replied, ice cold.