Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Clay Winters never would have been one to describe himself as an alpha with much luck. Carefree, yes. Wild, probably. He had left him home when he was 14 as his parents were shit, and he had been on his own ever since. Well, as alone as one could be with some of the friends he made along the way. He was quite popular among the streets as a 19 year old with the heart of a lion who was as tough as nails. His best friend, who had become his family over the many experiences they shared, was Nick Sanders, a fellow runaway and a beta. The two shared their lives with one another ever since they met when Nick was 15 and Clay was 16.

Apparently, that now included traveling on the Titanic. It was stupid, in retrospect, betting all they had in exchange for two 3rd class tickets on the voyager during a game of poker, but in the end it paid off. “Let’s fucking go!” Nick shouted at the top of his lungs so the whole bar could hear after the winners had been revealed. They were laughing like maniacs as they gathered their winnings, and Clay stuffed the tickets into his coat pocket. “We have to go pack! It departs in 10 minutes!” Nick worried after they were back on the streets of New York.

“Forget it. No time,” Clay told him, dragging him the way towards the loading harbor. “Besides, not like we have much value anyway.” Nick shrugged, agreeing silently, before snagging one of the tickets out of his pocket. He touched and examined it as if they were fine china as it probably was the most valuable thing he’s had in his possession for a long time. Clay snatched it back after a lenient moment, not trusting him with it.

Approaching the loading area, both of them were in complete awe at the magnificence of the vessel. It was massive and magnificent and every other synonym in between, towering above them and casting a shadow on them from across the street. It was hard for Clay to tear his eyes away, but Nick informed them that they had to get their quick as the lines were dwindling down to the last people. Still, the port was filled to the brim with people who were sending their family off and bystanders who wanted to see the departure of the great ship.

They were two steps into the street when Clay saw the oncoming car and grabbed Nick, dragging them onto the other side of the street before either could get hit. The car’s driver didn’t seem fazed as to almost having run them over, but they did stop. Clay was fuming as the occupants of the car didn’t seem to give a shit at all and got out of the car without any acknowledgement to Clay or Nick. It was immediately obvious to them that they were richer folks. The first to step out was a tall man, obviously an alpha, with a puffed out chest wearing a pinstripe charcoal suit and matching top hat. He stood at the side of the car to help out the next occupants, the first being an older woman. She thanked him graciously, beginning her walk towards the ship as the third and last occupant made their way out.

Clay couldn’t help but ogle a little as another man, who still had a boyish-look, made his way out of the car, taking the hand of the alpha. From the behavior around the alpha and the frilly more elaborate clothes, Clay had to guess the boy was an omega, staying at the alpha’s side. He was breathtaking as the sun made his large eyes glow like honey and complexion shimmer like snow.

The alpha reached out for him to take his arm to lead him towards the boat, but he and Clay made eye contact. Something erupted in his chest that felt like fire and lava that both burned him and made him feel warm to the touch. The boy just blinked which made Clay wonder if he felt that pull too before he turned away and followed the lead of the alpha. He was left, helpless, still practically laying on the sidewalk before Nick brought him out of his daze.

“You do realize you have literally no chance with him, right?” he scoffed but with a playful smile. Clay just rolled his eyes, pushing Nick’s face away with his hand and standing up. He tried his best to be subtle in his efforts to steal another glance at the boy to spare himself of Nick’s teasing, but it proved useless. Both because he didn’t see the boy again and because of Nick’s constant grin that showed he knew exactly what Clay was doing.

They made it on the ship without incident and were left to their own devices with the only rule that they were only allowed on the lower class’ deck. Clay nor Nick minded as they had pretty much gotten the tickets for free. Their place on the lower class deck became a bench that could fit three, maybe four people, but Nick was laying on his back to take up the whole bench with his head in Clay’s lap. They received a few dirty glares, but it didn’t change anything. Most people were on the edge of the ship anyway, waving goodbye to the people still on the mainland.

“It was pretty reckless of us, wasn’t it?” Nick asked with a light laugh. “Have you ever been to London, before?”

Clay shook his head. “Nah, but it can’t be too different, right? I mean, if you survive on scraps in one major city, you should already know how to do it in another.” They both laughed, suppressing the anxiety they were suddenly feeling. The boat hadn’t left the dock yet, but the entryways on the side were closed meaning no one else was coming on and, ideally, no one was leaving. If worse came to worst, he was sure one of them could fake a heart attack, and they could probably get off. Clay had quite a knack for being persuasive when he needed to be.

Only clear blue skies were overhead along with some squeaking seagulls that would sometimes fly above them. Clay glanced around again, hoping to catch another glance of the omega he saw earlier, but with no luck. It sucked knowing that he would plague his mind for the rest of the journey and that he’d probably never see him again. But, he would have to look on the bright side. He had food that was provided to the passengers and a floor beneath his feet. He also had his best friend by his side and- oh shit.

Clay watched from below as the pretty omega made his way to the edge of the upper deck, looking out into the water. They were pretty far away, and Clay didn’t think he saw him, but he knew it was him. There was something pensive in his gaze that watched the rolling waves underneath. He looked… sad which made Clay frown. He was overcome with the overwhelming urge to find out what was making him mad and punch it. That would be stereotypical alpha behavior, he chided to himself. A name would also be nice, though, because he hated referring to the boy as “the pretty omega” in his head.

His curiosity turned to a protective instinct when the alpha from earlier came up behind the omega and grab his arm. The shorter boy visibly jumped (or flinched) at the contact. Clay watched, unable to do anything, as the two seemed to have a tense conversation that was edging into argument territory. Because of the distance between them, Clay obviously couldn’t hear what they were arguing about, and he could see they were trying to be as discreet as they could while there were still plenty of people who could eavesdrop out on the decks. The omega’s frown deepened, and he stormed off with the alpha trailing behind. Both disappeared from Clay’s sight. He furrowed his eyebrows, deep in thought as he tried to process and possibly understand what he just witnessed from afar. It was obvious that the omega was mated or was at least betrothed to the other alpha, but Clay couldn’t deny the unmistakable desire he felt towards him. He couldn’t explain it to himself since he rarely felt connected to omegas he talked to, much less had fleeting glances of. He felt pulled to him like he would be pulled to water in a desert.

Clay looked down at the boy in his lap to see Nick had closed his eyes and smiled. The thoughts of the stranger omega floated away in his brain, but they “I think we got quite an adventure waiting for us,” Clay told him, running a lazy hand through his hair as the ship lurched and began its journey.

“Yeah,” he said, only half paying attention. His mind tried to re-etch the shadow of the boy onto the blue sky. “I think we will.”

Chapter Text

It was the first night of many for Clay on the water. Nick was probably somewhere near the bottom of the ship, where their quarters were, participating in the drinking, gambling, and partying that would be happening maybe every night. He would probably return that night to the small cabin they shared with 2 other men and find Nick drunk off of his ass, but he deserved to have his fun. They would never have an opportunity like this ever again, so he was going to let him have this. Besides, it would give him leverage over the beta who he knew would never stop teasing him over his infatuation with the omega that was way out of his league.

He was sitting on the bench they had been sitting on when the ship left port, looking up at the stars. He had never realized how many there were before with the lights and pollution from the city blocking them out, but now there was only inky blackness. Originally, his intention on coming up on to the upper deck had been to sketch with some pencils he had found and the journal he always kept in his pocket so he could remember everything he could forever. Already he had finished sketches of the different people he saw on the ship throughout the day. The pretty working girl who had been cleaning the lamps outside of their room, the father who was holding his son up to admire the setting sun, the older couple who had been sitting, gazing into each other’s eyes with rolling waves behind him. All were finished with a level of detail he could be happy with. He had begun sketching the shape of the ship from his point of view on the dock. The shape and shadows were developing nicely, but all of the little windows and other details would take him forever. The drawing was half finished as he resigned to finish it one night when he couldn’t sleep. Instead, he began an outline of a portrait.

It was barely anything as he couldn’t find it in himself to finish it. All he had was some light shadows, appearances of soft, fluffy hair, and the barest outlines of lips. To anyone, it could be anyone, but Clay painstakingly knew who he intended it to be. If he finished it, it would be like he was prophesying something that would never happen. Maybe once they got to London and the details of his face became muddled in his mind, he would finish it with the knowledge that it really wasn’t the omega he wanted it to be. It could ignorantly become a wisp of his memory of what the omega might have looked like and not a hope for what could have been. He almost wanted to rip the little corner off of the paper and throw it into the ocean, but before he could, he heard someone running.

He hadn’t seen anyone on the deck. Everyone seemed to have been celebrating the beginning of the voyage somewhere deep within the ship, so the sudden sounds of feet hitting the wooden deck rang through the night like a bell. He was astonished seeing the omega whose bare likeness was in his journal was now running towards the edge of the ship. It wasn’t a leisure stroll someone would take if they wanted to look out over the water. No, he could smell the distressed scent in the air and from the way the boy’s heaving breath and his desperate movement, Clay could only guess one thing.

He chased after the boy to see him standing on the wrong side of the rails, his hand gripping onto the rail behind him. Sirens went off in Clay’s mind knowing the boy’s intentions, but he also saw he was hesitating. If he had truly been set on his goal, he’d already be overboard and be a lost cause, but his eyes were watching the waves created by the ship and his deep breaths could be seen in the air because of how cold it was. He was scared.

Clay had never been in a situation like this before, but he knew it was important not to spook him in case he lost his grip or another person’s presence encouraged him to jump before he could convince him not to. He made his scent stronger to let him know someone else was approaching and purposefully made his footsteps easily heard. The boy turned around, his eyes glassy with tears and his knuckles turning white from how hard he was gripping the rails.

“Don’t do it,” Clay said, positioning himself far enough so they weren’t touching but close enough to where he could reach out and hopefully grab him if he fell.

“Stay back,” the omega demanded though his voice was close to folding over like the waves. The smell of distress and fear filled the air.

“You don’t want to jump, trust me.”

“Why should I trust you?” he asked, unsuccessfully feigning confidence with a tremble in his voice. Clay had no clue what to say as he knew nothing about the boy or his personality, so he went for the hard truth.

“That is not the way you want to die. Drowning causes a slow and painful death because of the water that fills your lungs until you can’t move. But it’s not that that will kill you. Hypothermia because of the freezing temperatures of the water will get you first. The pain will hit you before the shock does. The last thoughts before you’re paralyzed will be how cold and numb you are. You’ll be an ice cube left to the mercy of the sea before you can blink.”

His words were harsh and morbid and all he wanted to do was reach out and grab him, hauling him over the rail safely onto the deck, but that would likely only make things worse. It was slow and painful trying to coax and persuade, but he also needed the omega to realize that this really wasn’t what he wanted or needed to do.

“That’s a better fate than the one I’m being subjected to,” he said solemnly, looking back into the ocean. Maybe his first tactic didn’t work, but it gave him pause and gave Clay time.

“Have you tried changing it, then? Your actions decide your destiny, not someone else’s. You’re choosing a pretty bleak fate.” The wind from the back propellers was the only sound in the tense silence. It made his hair fall over his eyes and the boy’s clothes practically billow in the wind.There was something distant in his eyes, and Clay knew his mind wasn’t on the ship even though his hands were still holding onto the railing for dear life. He was losing him and needed another method.

Clay audibly sighed before throwing his jacket aside and beginning to climb over the rail as well so he was in a similar position as the other. The boy stared at him with horrified and confused eyes yelling at him, “what the fuck are you doing? Are you mad?”

“To be fair, you got over the railing before me. I’m not going to let you die in that water. If you jump, I jump in after you.” Clay really didn’t want to jump. Even though he didn’t have anything to his name, he’d at least like to say goodbye to Nick, but he couldn’t just leave the omega on the deck alone in such a situation. The thought of jumping scared him to death, but he also knew that he would stay true to his word. He’d follow the boy into the water if it came to it.

Luckily, he didn’t have to as the boy held his gaze on him before giving in. “You’re mad,” he repeated, but something in his tone had changed. Dare Clay say, amused. The important thing though was that he was successfully keeping the boy from jumping. The omega began climbing over the rail, but Clay beat him with his longer legs. Feeling the solid deck beneath his feet again made him feel like he could breathe again. The omega was just beginning to get the rail, careful not to slip, and Clay helped him, grabbing his hand and readying the other to grab a hold of him if need be. His feet hit the deck as well, but he stumbled trying to regain his footing. Clay caught him before he could fall, pulling him close.

With the lights from the boat, Clay now got a good look at the omega in his arms. He was cold to the touch, but he could feel small sparks where his arms were enclosed around him and as he looked into his coffee colored eyes. If he thought he looked beautiful under the sun he looked completely ethereal under the moonlight.

“George! George, where are you?” a voice called out, shocking the boys out of their trance. The omega, George, was quick to push Clay away from him quite harshly, and he wrapped his shawl over where Clay’s arms had wrapped around him. Most likely to hide the alpha’s scent which likely rubbed off at least somewhat from their close contact. The action hurt a little because Clay thought maybe George really was that repulsed by him, but the fear in his eyes and the worrying of his bottom lip alluded to something else. Something that made Clay’s blood boil.

The alpha that Clay had seen with him earlier appeared, running up to him. He noticed that the alpha was still dressed in the suit he had been wearing when he had seen the pair together earlier, but George has changed into evening wear typical of male omegas. Tight pants with soft shirts and a corset around the waist. The differences of just their clothes keyed Clay into just what George likely had to deal with being a part of high society. “George, darling. You shouldn’t run away like that,” the man chided like a mother to a child. He grabbed George’s arm to pull him closer, but George didn’t respond kindly, subtly fighting against him.

“Actually, Jay. I think I’d rather stay out here. The air is quite nice, isn’t it?” he said, now turning towards Clay who wasn’t expecting to have been brought into the conversation. The fierce look in George’s gaze told him that no matter what Clay said, he was going to rope him in again.

“Yes, very… cold,” Clay said, a bit awkwardly still unsure of what to do. George looked annoyed by his lackluster response while Jay was staring daggers into him.

He bit his tongue, responding in a forced diplomatic way to George, “darling, who is this?”
“I’m Clay Winters,” he provided, knowing George didn’t know his name. Well, now he did. He reached out his hand for the other alpha to shake when he noticed the graphite run on the bottom of his palm. Oops.

Jay shook it as if he was forced to while trying to make sure his and Clay’s palm actually made contact the least amount possible. It was more a shake of their fingers.

“I actually have a lot to thank Clay for,” George interjected. Clay gave him a skeptical look, wondering just how much he was going to reveal. “I was peering over the rail to watch the waves, and I almost slipped, but he made sure I didn’t fall.” he lied. “Both of us almost fell overboard.”

Jay hummed, appearing to be disbelieving, but he didn’t say anything about it. He sized Clay up, and he felt massively inferior under his gaze. It was obvious that both Jay and George were richer and a higher social class than him. They wore clean linens and silks while Clay only had two pairs of pants to his name and hands that constantly seemed to be dirty. “Well then, Clay. I am grateful that you were there for my fiancé when I couldn’t be,” he said to obviously undermine Clay. The revelation stung, but deep down, he knew nothing could ever happen between him and George. George would have always been unreachable. Still, the way Jay deviously smiled at Clay’s negative reaction and George’s obvious anger made him only want to try harder. It was obvious George hated his fiancé just as much as or even more than Clay. What he said next surprised him. “I insist that you join us for dinner. In the first class dining hall, of course.” Obviously. The 1st class dining would be better than the 3rd class dining options, but the way he spoke as if it were choosing between heaven versus hell didn’t sit right with Clay. Everything this guy did seemed to only make Clay want to throw him overboard. Especially if he was the one who drove George to the edge of the ship. Oh God what would have happened if he had found him before Clay did? The thought alone made his fingers clench into fists.

He looked to George first to see his response, but he was staring off at no one, still glaring. “Sounds lovely,” he said.

Jay’s smile was sinister. “Wonderful. Are you planning to stay out in the cold, darling?” he asked with a condescending tone to George.

George’s glare was then focused on the alpha, his voice sarcastic when he said, “I think I’ll stay out here a little longer, dear.”

It was obvious it wasn’t the reaction Jay was hoping for, but he didn’t say anything but nod and walk off. Clay and George were left alone on the deck. “I don’t owe you anything,” was the first thing George said to him, crossing his arms over his chest defensively and averting his eyes.

“I never said you did.” Clay responded which seemed to catch George off guard. He was perplexed by Clay’s response, but he didn’t act outwardly negative towards it. He wondered gravely what had made George consider suicide so eagerly, but it wasn’t his right to know. If George wanted to tell him, he’d tell him. That night was already a success in Clay’s book.

“Good,” he said, half convinced. “Well, I will see you tomorrow night, then. Goodbye, Mr. Winters.” George nodded and turned, leaving so much unsaid. Clay wanted so badly to just reach out and stop him, but he didn’t want to overstep anything. George would be more comfortable with full control over the situation.

The omega was halfway across the deck when he stopped and turned around. “Thank you.”

Clay smiled with his hands in his pockets, unsure of what else to do. “Is there any way I can meet you tomorrow? Before dinner?”

He took no time to think before replying, “I’ll see what I can do.”

Chapter Text

There weren't a lot of people George particularly liked. People he could stand, yes. People he wanted to throw overboard half the time, also yes. People he liked, less likely. Even his fiance, he couldn’t stand to look at for more than a few moments at a time. There was something about the way his smirk was too cocky and took up too much room on his face and the way he looked and spoke to George like an object that made him uncomfortable in his presence. There was always a sense of unpredictableness to the alpha that left George feeling unsafe in his presence. It set his omega instincts on edge. Maybe that was why Jay made such a great politician.

His mother never understood as she was also much more interested in the wealth of the family than the interest of her own son. After his father’s passing and the family being left without a source of income, his mother was left to scrounge off her children for her financial support. If she provided the nurturing support a mother should, it would have been different, but she was always distant and objective with her children. That was why George’s older sister, an alpha, had been quick to cut any connections with the Davidson family and leave their mother with George and George only. As an omega, it was a lot harder for him to find any footing in a career field so the only plausible solution was to marry her son off. George was 16 when he met his first suitor. The alpha was 30 years old. That was 5 years ago, and George had been forced to meet more alphas than he ever wanted to.

Then, Jay came along. George had been hesitant as he was with any of his mother’s potential suitors, but there was an immediate appeal. He was the most successful of any of his suitors, being a prestigious diplomat in the relations between England and the United States. As an American, he was looking for a quaint British omega mate to improve his image among the people with whom he’d be doing business with, and apparently George had fit the bill well enough. The first meeting had been awkward, but ultimately far from the worst Goerge had experienced. He had accepted Jay’s courting, and shortly after, they were announced to be embarking on their voyage back to London. Too bad George had found out it was their engagement voyage after already having been trapped on the ship.

Slowly through their courting, Jay’s personality had begun to show its true self as did George’s. When they had first met, Jay had been nothing but polite. Now, as they were to be mated and wed when they arrived in England, he saw it fit to boss and control every one of George’s actions. He was expected to be meek and quiet like a good omega partner and let his alpha handle all of the family’s affairs and business while he was to stay home with the children. But that wasn’t George. In little ways, in all the ways he could, he fought back with teeth and nails. Though it probably wouldn’t do much in the long run, he had convinced himself that Jay understood George wasn’t going to be the compliant little omega he wanted him to be. Even when he didn’t.

George could think of 2 people on the ship so far that he actually liked. One being Wilbur Soot, the mastermind behind the ship and its design who treated Goerge with nothing but respect, as he did with all passengers. He indulged in George’s neverending questions about the ship and how it worked as it fascinated him beyond ends. The other was Alex who was a servant to the Davidson family, but the person who gave him the most orders were Jay. He was also an omega, so the two were immediately drawn to each other. Alex was the funniest person George had ever met and constantly talked about gossip with him which was much more entertaining than anything else on the whole ship. He was his closest friend, but it also wasn’t like he had many others competing for that spot.

He was sitting with his mother and her friends for breakfast which always seemed to be more boring and painstaking than the morning before. Because he was an unmated omega, he was always expected to be with either his mother, a mated but widowed omega, or his fiance for meals. Neither did he find pleasure in their company. He wanted to explore the ship as he didn’t have the chance to last night. It really was a wondrous vessel even though George did faintly feel like a cattle being sent off to slaughter on it.

After the meal, he was able to slip away. His mother chastised and worried about him getting lost or ending up in the wrong company, but he assured her he was just going to wander the ship and go back to the room to prepare for dinner. Her smothering really did make George feel like he was drowning. He was 22 for Christ's sake!

Clay was on the bottom deck, laying out on a bench with his eyes closed. It looked like he was enjoying basking in the sun which George found sweetly endearing. There was something so young and innocent about Clay that he was drawn to. A sort of naivety. He knew that the boy probably lived a rough life, obvious by the way there was dirt caked under his nails and the same jacket he wore over plain clothing despite how tattered it was. It was a lot different from George’ wardrobe which was filled with fine materials and colors at his disposal everyday.

George didn’t try to be sneaky, and for good reason because Clay was suddenly sitting up before George could even get on the deck. “You came,” he said as if he believed George wouldn’t have.

‘Yes, I am here. Are you happy?” he asked, more teasingly. He expected him to become defensive or maybe even blush if George was lucky, but Clay once again surprised him.

“Yeah, I am,” he said shamelessly, catching George off guard. If he had asked the same question to Jay in a similar context, the alpha would quickly weave a monologue about how it’s his responsibility to keep an eye on his soon-to-be mate and protect them. He was quickly realizing that there was no point in comparing Jay and Clay.

They made their way to the top deck with the different workers eyeing them suspiciously, but never engaging. They had to remain on the 1st class deck because if George was seen with the alpha on the 3rd class deck, he might never be able to leave his room until the ship docked with how Jay and his mother would overreact. Not to mention, there would likely be action taken against Clay who would be seen as a lusty, determined alpha who manipulated a poor naive omega into dangerous territory.

It was awkward striking up a conversation with Clay. He was an alpha, and George didn’t have a good record of opinion of alphas. But he could tell Clay would be different. He could tell from when he first smelled his scent which was subtle and natural unlike the other alphas George knew who strengthened their scents to appeal to more potential mates. George immediately liked Clay’s more watered down scent that reminded him of the sea.

“So, what do you usually do? In your free time?” It was embarrassing how awkward he was, but most alphas he met usually started and carried the conversation. Usually, he would only speak when asked a question, but Clay didn’t seem to care about any of that.

“I usually draw. It passes the time and keeps me grounded.” Now that peaked George’s interest. He could appreciate a great piece of art, even if he might not be able to see the colors correctly. He even had a small collection with him on board of paintings he intended to bring back home that he had gotten in America. Apparently, his curiosity showed on his face as Clay was smiling and offered, “would you like to see?”

He pulled a leatherbound journal out of his pocket that had been used and worn throughout extensive use. It was obviously personal as the leather had become soft and the inscription of “L. Winters” had grown blurry at the edges in the bottom corner. When he opened it, the word “PROPERTY OF CLAY WINTERS” was written messily on the inside cover. It was endearing as the handwriting looked like that of a child’s making George wonder when Clay received the journal. “It was my father’s, but he gave it to me. The good drawings don’t start until about halfway through,” he explained, seeing George having examined the different words his father had written before he had given it to his son. Lists and thoughts and even prayers littered the beginning pages.

Sensing that Clay wanted him to skip the beginning for undiscovered reasons, he flipped a little bit before halfway. The first drawing he saw was a landscape done in pencil. It was simple, a tree on a hill overlooking a sunset with a flowering meadow below it. George couldn’t help but smile at it as it was pretty juvenile and nothing near what he would consider a masterpiece, but it was also obvious that Clay had put a lot of effort into it at whatever age he had made it.

He continued flipping through to see a definite style appear as the pages progressed. The wispy lines that made blurry leaves and sun rays of the landscape George had seen became defined lines and shadows that created portraits. Amazing portraits. George was seeing with his own eyes the progression of Clay’s artistic ability. It seemed so personal that he almost wanted to give it back to him because he didn’t feel worthy.

Eventually, the style became more consistent as he began seeing his most recent works. There were familiar scenes that George could recognize as New York City, where the ship left port. Even though his specialty was obviously portraits, he could do a drawing of almost everything well. “Is that what you’re going to pursue when we dock? Art?” he asked, continuing to flip through.

“Eh. It’s more of a hobby. Art doesn’t pay the bills, really,” he told him with a shrug. He watched with a prideful smile as George continued flipping through.

“With your talent, I bet it could.” He didn’t respond, but he heard and considered George’s compliment. Another trend George noticed was the face of one person who appeared many times throughout his drawings. With how well Clay drew him, George could vividly imagine the face on the page, even when it had no color. He was… pretty. It was an understatement, but George couldn’t help but be jealous. There was no way Clay and the boy in the drawing were just friends with how accurately and frequently he drew him. In some of them, the boy might have even been posing.

“Maybe I will. I could travel to Paris and draw some of those French omegas. I hear they love being drawn while not wearing any clothes. Probably pretty good advertisement for their services,” he said which made George’s face beet red. He glared at Clay who was smirking before he burst into a fit of laughter. George might have to take back his previous thought that Clay wasn’t a typical alpha. But, it was all in good heart which was why George eventually let out some small chuckles as well.

When he was flipping through, he came across a full-page portrait, something that wasn’t common for Clay whose pages were filled with little drawings of unrelated things dotted through it. The drawing was of the same boy he noted before. It was a freeze-frame of him smiling with lines near his eyes and a perfect grin. The jealously in George’s stomach rose, wondering how someone could look at someone and create something so beautiful. The only way was for the person himself to be beautiful, and this boy was. Clay was. George wasn’t.

“That’s Nick,” Clay told him, noticing that he was stuck looking at the one portrait.

“It’s beautiful,” George murmured, unwilling to acknowledge the putrid feeling that had settled in his stomach. It wasn’t in good nature or his right to be envious, especially of someone he had never met for having someone he didn’t really know.

Clay smiled. “Yeah, he’s my best friend. We’ve been through a lot together.” Oh. “He’s on board, actually. Maybe if you see him, you can tell me if it looks like him. He tells me they don’t, but I think they do.” George didn’t doubt that they looked like Nick with how talented Clay was. He didn’t say anything though.

“So it’s just been you and Nick for a while?” George wondered. Clay’s smile became watery, and George suspected he hit a nerve. Before he could apologize for prying, Clay spoke.

“Yeah. He’s the only family I have as far as I’m concerned. But, he’s all I need in life. As long as he’s okay I’m okay.” The thought warmed George’s heart because he’d never heard of such a bond outside of familial relationships. Or actually ever. A flicker of hope lit in his heart thinking that maybe one day he could deserve that type of love from someone. “What about your family?”

George didn’t like thinking about his family, but it was a fair trade-off. He shouldn’t expect Clay to share such a personal part of his life and not be willing to share in return. In reality, he knew that if he really didn’t want to tell him about his own personal details, he could say it and make Clay accept his terms. He probably would readily. But he was drawn to Clay in a weird way and didn’t want to possibly ruin anything too soon. It probably wasn’t a good idea for him to socialize under these pretenses with another alpha when he was already engaged, but Clay treated him differently in a way he needed to be. To him, Clay was a friend. Not an alpha. With him, he felt that he could be human. Not just an omega.

“It’s just me and my mum,” he told him while looking across the deck. The sun was beginning to set.

“You also have Jay?” he asked with a curious tone. It wasn’t defensive like he was accusing George of being unfair to his fiancé, but it also wasn’t a statement meant to enforce that George should be grateful to him. He was giving George room to breathe, but it felt like the walls were closing in rapidly.

Yes, he did have a family and a fiancé who could provide for them and a family for the rest of his life, but he hated it. He hated his life which was why he went to the railing of the ship that night. He was so afraid that this was all he would amount to in his life, and he didn’t want that. But articulating that to Clay who only seemed to have the clothes on his back and a ride or die best friend seemed too cruel. But he couldn’t lie about his feelings towards Jay.

“Yeah, but I,” the words died on his tongue, and he looked down. “Never mind, you probably don’t want to hear it. I mean, who would want to hear a rich little omega complain about his life’s problems,” he said, unknowing of the effect they had on Clay who only looked worried. He was stupid and letting his emotions control him like a typical omega with the feeling of tears threatening to appear. He blinked and took a deep breath to hold them back. “I should go.”

He went to stand up from where he and Clay had been sitting on one of the loungers on the deck and make his way back to his room before he could embarrass himself, but he was stopped by Clay who reached out to hold his wrist. His grip was present, but not firm. If George had been adamant to get away, he could, but seeing Clay’s genuine look in his eyes made him hesitate. “I would want to know what would make someone feel like they had no other escape,” he said.

Once again, George felt he was at a bit of a crossroads. Here he was wanting to indulge Clay who was the sweetest alpha he’s ever met (and he’s met quite a fair share), but everything that had become accustomed to societal norms and tradition told him not to. But he knew that if he told him, Clay would listen, and that was something no one’s ever done for him

He took a long moment as the two sides fought against each other. Too long apparently, because Clay’s name was being called from the lower decks. The alpha got up to peer over, and George also went to see someone waving at him to get his attention. It was the boy from the portraits. Even from far away, George could see the long eyelashes and round chin from the page belonging to the boy on the lower deck. There was another person with him who was smiling the prettiest smile George had ever seen. “That’s Nick. I don’t know who’s with him, though,” he told George. “Hey Nick! Look where I am!” he yelled without any care for the other first class passengers who looked at him disapprovingly. George couldn’t help but snicker at his immaturity. It was refreshing.

“Good for you, bud!” Nick yelled back up. “I just wanted to see how you were doing!” George was blushing at this point because they were having a yelling match that the whole ship could probably hear, but he was also giggling at how shameless the two were. Plenty of people were staring with disapproving glares.

“Good lord can you just get up here!” George yelled louder than the two ever could to stop them mid conversation. The two friends, and Nick’s plus one, stopped immediately before bursting into laughter. George didn’t know how joyous and amazing Clay’s laugh, or wheeze, was. It was contagious.

“Can they come up here?” Clay asked because it would be breaking the rules. Clay wasn’t supposed to be on the first class deck, but they could easily excuse it when it was just him. Two others though would be a bit tougher.

“Well, I say they should. And it’s only breaking the rules if the authorities know.” Clay smirked at that, commenting on how he might be rubbing off on George.

Nick and his friend sneakily climbed up onto their deck while avoiding any of the guards. As they got closer, George noticed that Nick was a beta and the other boy was an omega, and they were quite close. He and Clay exchanged a quick glance at each other to see if the other had noticed the way two’s hands would brush slightly at their sides. “Hey man. It’s been a hot minute since I’ve seen you,” Nick said, bringing Clay immediately into a hug.

“First off,” Clay started while accepting the hug, “I just saw you yesterday evening and second, we could have seen each other this morning, but you were too hungover and passed out in your bed to see me before I left.” Both the omegas couldn’t help but he amused at the two’s playful bickering back and forth. It was like two cats roughhousing, but never truly injuring one another.

“Okay okay enough,” Nick said to halt their arguing. “I’m sure you two are done listening to us. I’m Nick,” he introduced himself to George and shook his hand. “I’m this idiot’s best friend.”

“George.”

“I’m Karl,” the omega next to Nick introduced to both Clay and him. There was no doubt he was beautiful with soft fluffy hair and eyes that shined like glass.

“We met last night at one of the parties. How did you guys meet?” Nick went on to ask.

Both shared an uneasy glance. “I was drawing,” Clay began.

“And I was… stargazing,” George stumbled out.

“And I, uh”

“And he saw me and-“

“We were both on the bottom deck and-”

“Fine Fine! keep your secrets,” Nick said to end it. Both let out a relieved breath, even though Nick was probably assuming the worst from the way his smirk could be described as devilish. George would usually snap in protest at such an assumption, but he kept his words to himself. “There’s another party tonight. You both are welcome to come.”

“Um, maybe,” Clay said. “We’re having dinner so it depends.” The answer was vague and open ended, but it was satisfactory to Nick and Clay and George. As the conversation progressed between easy topics, George soon realized that Clay didn’t treat him any differently. He treated George like he treated Nick and even Karl with a contagious enthusiasm and laid back approach. It was surprising as George was used to alphas treating all omegas with kid gloves, like they were fragile dolls. Once again, he was dumbfounded by the dazzling alpha. It became a lot harder to deny his attraction towards him.

He remained mostly on the sidelines of the conversation as they talked, content with listening and observing rather than adding in his own two cents. It worked well as the other three could hold a conversation and make sure George wasn’t shut out and able to talk at any time. He sensed Clay wanted him to talk a little more with the subtle little glances he would throw his way, but he rarely added to the conversation. It was much more interesting to hear the three of them share stories from their past.

Even though he hadn’t spoken directly to the other omega in the group, he found he liked Karl. He constantly had a smile on his face that could light up a room, and his sense of humour was kind-hearted and joyful. Nick obviously had taken a liking to him as well with the way he looked at him with such admiration and pause when he spoke. It was sweet.

Clay had been in the middle of one his stories George couldn’t help but find fascinating. His and Nick’s life seemed to be one big adventure story that George could only read about but never live. But the way Clay recounted his different stories allowed George to imagine living a life like that. One where he had no standards to uphold and could be himself without worrying about anyone else’s opinions.

“George!” a pesky shrill voice called out. The group’s attention turned toward the sound to find a group of women trailed by Alex who was sheepishly following. His mother led the pack with fury deeply set in her eyes When she saw that he was with company, she hesitated and watered down her aggressive approach. She was a lady, after all. At least when others were watching.

“Oh, hi mother,” he greeted formally. Suddenly, his company straightened up. “I was just talking to these gentlemen. This is Clay, and he’ll be joining us tonight for dinner. I’m sure you heard of what he has done for me.”

Clay nodded with a formal smile that almost had George fooled. It was just a bit too tight though as he reached out his hand and kissed the back of his mother’s hand as a gesture. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

Her smile was similarly tight and forced before she returned to her normal grimace and faced George. “Ahem. You should be getting ready for dinner with Jay. Not… socializing, dear,” she said in a sickly sweet tone. What she meant was she didn’t want him socializing with those beneath them without a chaperone. If he was talking with another higher class patron that wasn’t an alpha, she wouldn’t care at all, but they were 3rd class passengers and Clay was an alpha. They were red flags in her eyes.

He wanted to insist on staying, but he knew what resisting, especially in front of her cockle of other upper class women, entailed. His fiancé would get involved. Solemnly, he nodded and crossed over into her territory. Immediately he was surrounded by the scent of overdone floral perfumes which made him choke.

His mother smiled a satisfied smile and with a snap of her fingers, brought Alex up to her side. “Alexis,” she began, which made the other man flinch. George knew he hated it when his mother used his full name. “See to it that these men are returned to where they belong.” Alex sighed but nodded, and the group of women and now George made their way back to the innards of the ship. He snuck a glance back to see Clay’s forlorn face, but there was something in his gaze that assured George that it wasn’t his fault. He felt something similar simmering inside of him that he desperately needed to put out.
-

Chapter Text

Back at the patio of the deck, Alex let out a relieved sigh as the group walked off. “So, you’re the man who helped George last night?” he said to Clay as if sizing him up. He arched an eyebrow, coming to an unknown conclusion that made Clay feel like he was being examined under a microscope. Theoretically, he shouldn’t be intimidated because the boy was an omega and shorter than George by an inch or two, but Clay knew that he meant something to George. They were probably friends, and he didn’t want to piss off a friend of George’s.

“Uh, yeah,” he said, unsure of what else to say. He wasn’t sure how much he knew about last night.

“You’re not wearing that to dinner, are you?”

Clay looked down at his clothes. Corduroy pants, a green checkered shirt and white undershirt, and suspenders. It was all he had, and he assumed it would be enough. “I guess.”

“No no no no. You’re not letting those bastards pick you apart for your clothing.” He looked up and tapped his chin with his finger in thought. “I think I know someone who can help. Come on. You can all come.”

The three of them followed his lead as they zigzagged their way through the halls of the ship. They were in some of the upper class residence quarters, but probably not the grandest of the ones on the ship. “My name’s Alex, by the way,” he told them as they evaded the eyes of staff and crew who would immediately know the three dressed in ragged clothes didn’t belong where they were.

“If you’re with the upper class, why are you helping Clay, then, Alex?” Nick asked. Alex didn’t answer as they turned a corner. Up ahead was a dead end, but Alex didn’t stop or turn around.

“Because I’m only a servant to the Davidson family, and I know George isn’t happy where he is. I want to help him because he deserves to be with someone he truly loves, and he doesn’t love Jay.”

Karl hummed. “But you do, don’t you?” he questioned knowingly. Alex once again sighed, showing a piece of his true feelings.

“It’s complicated,” he told them as they came to a stop in front of one door near the end of the hall. Engraved on a golden plaque attached to the door was the name “Wilbur Soot” with “Ship Architect” under it.

“Alex, who exactly are we meeting?” Clay asked, suddenly feeling a bit overwhelmed and underdressed.

“Someone who is very nice and about your size,” is all he said before knocking on the door. After hearing some shuffling on the other side, it opened to show a tall man who looked very exasperated, but he softened when he noticed Alex in front of the group. “Hello Mr. Soot. Are you busy?”

He looked a little frazzled which worried Clay since he was the one who apparently built the ship or at least came up with the plans for the ship. No one on board knew more about the vessel than the man in front of them. “Of course not, Alex,” he said in a way that said that he was in fact busy. But he still stepped aside to let them in, and he looked at the three surrounding the omega. “Who are the gentlemen with you, might I ask?”

Nick and Karl introduced themselves with polite handshakes, but Alex quickly interrupted before Clay could introduce himself. “And this is Clay Winters. He has been invited by Jay Schlatt to dine with his party tonight in the first class saloon. I was hoping that you would help him as he doesn’t have anything to wear.” Clay nodded in confirmation, feeling a little embarrassed that he had to ask another alpha for clothes, but it was better than embarrassing himself in front of the entirety of the first class on board showing up in what he was wearing now. Alex seemed to trust Wilbur so Clay figured he could as well.

He nodded and wordlessly motioned for them to follow him deeper into his cabin. They entered a large sitting area with couches, a tiny kitchenette, and a desk littered with blueprints and papers on top of it. Another open door led to a bedroom that was also elaborately decorated with fine wallpaper, dark wood finishing, and plush pillows and cushions. It was a lot different than the steel walled, dark and wet 3rd class dwellings he and Nick were used to.

“Take a seat. Clay, come with me,” he said to the party and then moved to the bedroom. Clay followed him like a lost puppy, afraid to touch anything. He didn’t want to overstep a boundary as this higher class alpha already agreed to this tremendous favor. He was led into a large walk-in closet that was filled completely with clothes. Easily, there were more than enough clothes for one person to have a new outfit each day of the journey. The need for surplus was one of the things about the rich that Clay never understood.

He stopped at the entrance of the closet while Wilbur disappeared into it. He came back out with a full outfit over his arm and handed it to him. “It is a bit of an older suit of mine, but it should fit and do well for tonight,” he explained before beginning to make his way out of the room. “Let me know how it fits.” The door shut behind him when he entered the front room, and Clay changed.

The whole ensemble consisted of a three piece suit with a black jacket and a dark green silk waistcoat and tie. He’d worn a formal jacket before and maybe even slacks once upon a time, but the fine material felt foreign on his skin. His shirt was silky and soft along his wrists and the slacks made him feel like a proper gentleman for the first time in his life. He never cared about manners before as he felt he never owed anyone anything, but because of Wilbur’s kindness and the sudden change in his look, he was trying to remember everything his mother taught him as a child about etiquette.

When he walked into the front room, Alex wolf whistled which got Karl and Nick laughing. “Damn you look good,” Karl complimented, which made Clay feel a bit better. He was afraid he looked like an imposter or like he was unbearably uncomfortable in these clothes, but they all seemed to respond positively.

“I must say, it fits better than I thought it would have,” Wilbur said, looking at him with an evaluating gaze. The difference, Clay realized, between Wilbur’s look and the look George’s mother had given him finding her son in his company was that Wilbur was scrutinizing the clothing while George’s mother grimaced at his existence.

“You truly are going to be the belle of the ball,” Nick said with a feigned sentiment, similar to the tone a mother would use with her child. Clay rolled his eyes.

“It’s just dinner,” he scoffed, taking a seat next to him. Wilbur and Alex sat across from them and Karl in the chair in between the couches.

“Yes, but it’s a dinner with the wolves,” Alex said in a dreadfully serious tone. “One mistake and they’ll tear you apart the moment you give you the chance.”

After those reassuring words, Alex excused himself as he had to return to Jay’s quarters. Wilbur informed him that he would be joining his table for dinner, and that he would show him where the saloon would be. He helped him make his hair look more presentable, and then it was nearing the time of the dining area opening up. The two alphas left and said goodbye to Nick and Karl not long after as they wanted to be punctual. Dinner started at 8 in the evening, but it was an unspoken rule that the truly important and polite people showed up thirty minutes before for socializing in the parlor.

Clay was nervous. He didn’t know how to talk to upper class folk. As they walked through the pristine white and gilded hallways, the sinking sense of him being out of place stayed in his stomach. He didn’t bring in the upper deck. He didn’t belong in these fancy clothes. And he was a hell of a fool for thinking he could be anything more than an acquaintance with George. They were of two completely different worlds, and Clay wasn’t sure he would be able to survive the one George belonged to.

“I’m afraid I must check in with the crew before dinner. The entrance is right around the corner,” Wilbur told him suddenly. He was going to leave him alone to the wolves? Clay was already nervous and self-conscious of the thought of remaining glued to Wilbur’s side for the whole dinner like a shy child. Now, he didn’t even have that shield for the most fickle part of the night. He had nothing to hide behind.

Wilbur seemed to sense Clay’s sudden nervousness for he gave him a reassuring smile and a resting hand on his shoulder. “You will be fine. Even if you don’t talk to anyone right off the bat. Just remember that you have a right to your place in there, and if you believe it and show it, then they will believe it too.” With his sage advice, Wilbur left him alone in the hallway. Some people walked amongst the hallways, mainly towards the entrance of the parlor, and they didn’t spare a second glance at Clay who felt close to having a breakdown. He took a deep breath and realized that it didn’t feel like the ship was sinking. Maybe he could do this.

The servants at the door opened the door for him without second thought which further relieved him of the endless doubts swimming in his mind. He took a moment, though, to admire the beauty of the entrance to the dining area. Fine finished wood made up the walls that shone and glazed under the light from the crystal chandelier above. Beautifully carved banisters provided railing to clean and sparkling marble stairs that led to a second floor and balcony that overlooked the whole foyer. On the landing between the two floors was a large wall with a space carved out where a large ornamental clock sat as the centerpiece for the whole room. And for good reason. All of it was magnificent.

He soaked in all of the details, hoping he could remember it and recreate it in his journal since there was no way he’d be let back in here. Not after he gave Wilbur back his clothes. What he couldn’t get over was the posh people chatting and walking around him not realizing the beautiful architecture and details of the room surrounding them, but this was their life everyday. They remained blissfully ignorant of the beauty in their lives. Their houses probably looked just like this or probably even more extravagant. They were surrounded by it everyday of their lives, and then there was Clay.

He was leaning against one of the pillars under the balcony, trying to memorize every fine detail. As he looked around and as more people came in to be seated for their meal, he realized he was beginning to look out of place. Slouched against the pole behind him, probably wrinkling his clothes, he didn’t look very gentlemanly. He corrected himself mentally and slowly stood firmly on both of his feet, looking around discreetly to try and copy the pose of the gentlemen alphas. Straight back, feet together, chin up, and arm held at your waist.

He felt silly pretending to be something he wasn’t. But slowly, the averted gazes he had garnered when he was slouched against the pillar turned away. Maybe it had been a bit of a success.

And then he looked up the stairs.

George was looking down on him from the landing with a fond smile on his face. He also couldn’t help but think about how beautiful he looked, putting the grandest of chandeliers to shame. Don’t get him wrong, George was always one of the most beautiful people in Clay’s mind the moment he saw him stepping out of that car. But now he was surrounded by glimmering crystals and fancy dresses that only made Clay realize how much more beautiful George was than any diamond in comparison.

He wore black pants that were similar to Clay’s own, just a bit more form fitting. His shirt was silk and mauve with an over shirt that was sheer and almost completely see through that billowed at his sleeves. Dotted in starburst patterns were dark crystals that caught and projected the light. He was stunning.

“You clean up nice,” George told him as he walked down the stairs and to him.

“Thank you,” Clay said before taking his hand and kissing the back of it. The action made the boy’s cheeks positively pink. “And might I say you look radiant as always.” The shorter rested his arm in the crook of Clay’s elbow, keeping them connected but not so much so as to stir up any unwanted discussion from onlookers. It felt like they were in their own little world amongst all of the glitz and glamour as they shared in hushed whispers spoken only for their ears.

Chapter Text

Their subject of conversation became gossip. George pointed towards a group of three men with one obviously controlling the conversation with a proud stature, a puffed out chest, and a mouth that never stopped moving. “That is Mr. Delacourte. If you give him even three minutes of your time you’ll learn more about his so-called war accomplishments than you’ll ever need to know. The man speaks more about being in the war than he actually spent in the war.” One of his audience members yawned as if on cue, and Clay had to keep himself from letting out a wheeze of a laugh. He turned and pointed to a woman smoking and sitting at one of the side tables. She seemed disinterested in what was happening around her, and the people around her refused to make eye contact with her. “That is Mrs. Harris. She’s been married and widowed three times, and each time she’s used the money from the marriage to gamble and lost it all. Apparently she’s heading to Britain to find alpha number four.” He pointed out a couple who seemed to be the center of attention. A young man, maybe a little older than them, hanging on the arm of a much older gentleman. Both of them, particularly the younger one, seemed to be drinking in the attention like a sponge. “The younger one is Mr. Johan, and him and Mr. Helacroix are having an affair because Mr. Helacroix’s omega is in Britain.”

He continued telling him the gossip among the rich pointing out the different people dotted around the saloon and telling him their darkest secrets. It made both of them giggle, feeling like little kids passing secrets to one another, far away from the dreadfulness of adult life. Clay thought that the life of the rich was pretty static and comfortable, but they all had secrets and fatal downfalls just like anyone else. It reminded him that they were human like he was, even if they would never put themselves on the same level as him.

“Ahem,” a voice sounded from behind them. They both whipped around to see Jay at the landing, looking down on them with a scowl. George immediately pulled his arm away from him, which was understandable. But the way he shrank in on himself and couldn’t meet the alpha’s eyes made Clay’s skin crawl. The boy who was smiling and shining under the chandelier’s lights turned gray and distant. “You look wonderful in the outfit I picked for you tonight,” he told his fiancé. How condescending it was so obviously clear to Clay, but he was helpless to do anything. Not in that environment where any person would surely take the side of the wealthier alpha.

Jay held his arm out for George to take, and he was left with no other choice. George looked at Clay with a sympathetic look before begrudgingly taking the man’s arm. Jay sent Clay a pointed scowl when George wasn’t looking which made his instincts prickle. An alpha was challenging him, but there was no way he could win in this situation. He didn’t want to win George like a prize anyway, as he knew the omega wasn’t some trophy given to the best alpha. He should be free to make his own choices involving his life, but in the type of society he lived in, it wasn’t as easy as that. All Clay could do was make sure George knew he’d be there if he ever needed help.

He watched them walk away, towards the dining area, when a different presence appeared at his side. Alex grabbed Clay’s arm so they were interlinked like George’s and Jay’s were. From that close, Clay could take in his scent which smelt like a blueberry orchard and honey.

“You’re in love with him, aren’t you?” he asked as Jay led himself and George through the crowd. He looked to be socializing with those around the parlor while dragging poor George along. But, he plastered on a fake smile and seemed not to be too fazed. Clay looked at the omega next to him to see there was a similar recognizable loving gaze. But they weren’t looking at the same person.

“And you love Jay,” he said knowingly. The omega struggled at coming up with a response, his mouth gaping open slightly.

“I- no. No way. That’d be so inappropriate of me,” he tried to excuse himself, but Clay knew. Maybe he couldn’t see the appeal of Jay, and he didn’t think George did either thankfully, but he already knew Alex would be different. As long as he was happy and Jay treated him right, it wasn’t in his right to judge.

“Don’t worry. I’ll keep your secret if you keep mine,” he said which made Alex smile in relief.

Even though it looked like Clay would be the one leading, it was Alex’s feet that guided them into the dining room and to a large table that already had many people sitting around it including George who was sitting in between Jay and his mother. Clay was sat sort of diagonally from him, across from Wilbur, and next to Alex.

Once again, he was overwhelmed by the difference between how these people lived and how he lived. In front of him was a place setting with enough silverware for ten people to have each a spoon, fork, and knife. He’d never seen so many shiny pieces of silver and porcelain plates he could see his reflection in.

“Where do I start?” he worried under a whispered breath, but Alex was quick to help him as a small plate of food was set in front of everyone.

“Wait until everyone is served and work your way inwards,” he advised to become Clay’s saving grace. God he’d have to find a way to thank Alex later.

“So, Clay,” George’s mother spoke up. Suddenly, everyone’s eyes were on him. “What do you do to support yourself and your family?” she asked, obviously wanting to strike a nerve. Such a question surprised him, especially because the woman carefully fabricated her tone to sound genuinely serious and not at all condescending. Her eyes which reminded Clay of a snake pit were the giveaway of her venomous intentions.

He steeled himself to keep from reacting in the way she wanted. “It’s just me and my best friend, actually, ma’am,” he responded cordially. Everyone’s eyes were on him. “We’re sort of travelers. Nomads, maybe. We never stay in one place too long, but we’ve seen so much of the beauty the United States has to offer. To earn our way, we mostly do odd jobs to help out whoever we come across,” he explained. It was a bit more than that with gritty details that mostly involved sweaty and hard labour they have had to perform to keep a roof over their heads. He thought he’d spare it since he was in the company of those who seem like they’d never worn dirty clothes before.

“Wow. What is your favorite place you’ve visited?” a different woman asked, genuinely fascinated by the stories Clay could tell unlike George’s mother. He smiled and indulged her.

“Actually, my home. It’s in the state of Florida, way down south. It’s warm all year round, has beautiful sandy beaches, and great cigars,” he said with the last part to earn a crack at the table. Many around the table, mainly the men, bursted out into the forced jovial laughter that was precisely restrained and unnatural. Still, pride swelled in his stomach knowing that he made them laugh even if in their own weird way. They were rich. They didn’t know any better.

George’s mother turned her nose up at Clay and the warming of the table’s opinion of him. “That doesn’t sound like a very stable lifestyle, Mr. Winters. What are your plans for the future? How will you support yourself and a future mate?”

Uneasy glances were exchanged by many around the table. The question and the way she presented it was deeply prying as she didn’t try to hide her intention. Even the other 1st class passengers were made uncomfortable by the strange question. When he looked to see George, he was giving him a sympathetic look. When he turned to his mother with an uncomfortable glare, he was almost sure that he was about to confront his mother in front of the whole table, but Clay spoke up before he could step in.

“I’m just living day by day, ma’am,” he explained, garnering everyone’s attention once again. “So far the Lord hasn’t smited me down, and I intend to live in the moment everyday until he does. My mom always used to tell me the best way to die is with no regrets.”

Everyone paused, watching Clay with calculated eyes. It was tense, and he wasn’t sure exactly how to get the ball rolling again and the attention off of him. To his luck, George did it for him.

He raised his glass that was filled with expensive champagne, looked at Clay, and he smiled. “To no regrets.” All of the table, even Jay and his mother, begrudgingly, followed ensuite and the repetition of Clay’s words rang out throughout the dining quarters.

The conversation flowed smoothly and off of the topic of him after that. Mostly, it seemed that there was mostly retelling of rather boring stories, more gossip sharing, and the occasional conversation about the economy and politics in between the table. Clay was silent through most of the dinner as he concentrated on watching each of Alex’s moves and replicating it to avoid error.

“Alexis,” George’s mother spoke, making the omega snap his head up. “I’ve noticed you’ve caught an alpha’s eye.” She was smirking as if she had just pulled the rug out from under him. Even though she was talking to Alex, her gaze was offset on the alpha sitting next to her. The rest of the table seemed confused by it being brought up and in such a public and inappropriate way. Clay wasn’t a part of their society, and infatuation wasn’t something that was normally talked about publicly, outside of courting.

Still, the table expected an answer. Clay looked to Alex who knew how to handle these people and these situations, Hypothetically. He noticed Alex and Jay had their gazes locked. Alex looked horrified, conveying with his eyes that this was all a misunderstanding. Jay’s look was less indiscernible. His eyes were fiery and accusing, yet his jaw was slack. He was hiding his emotions and damn was he good at it.

“Yes ma’am,” Alex said measuredly, controlling his tone to a great effect. He looked to Clay with tired eyes. “And I’m more than grateful.”

George’s mother was strangely delighted with Alex’s lackluster answer. He forced himself to look at George. His expression was guarded to the rest of the table, but Clay found he could look right past it all in some strange magical way. Pain was hidden behind his shroud.

It was a bit jarring and honestly awkward for a lot of the table, but when conversation started up once again, Clay got up out of his chair under the guise of going to the restroom. He kept his hands behind his back in a gentlemanly manner as he passed George’s chair, passed a small piece of paper into his lap. It would hopefully give him some more time with him.

Meet me at the clock after dinner

When he returned, Jay was quick to stand up. “Gentlemen, why don’t we leave the ladies to their gossip and head to the cigar room. I would extend the invitation to you, Clay, but I’m concerned talk of politics and economics would bore you. Your adventure-filled life probably has no room for such… trivial things,” he said condescendingly. What he meant was he didn’t think Clay could comprehend politics and economics. Clay didn’t have the capacity to care because he hoped he had more exciting plans anyway

George’s mother let out a loud laugh at the comment that was quite unladylike, but it was meant to bring people’s attention to Jay’s sly comment. She agreed with him. Clay remained silent and let him leave believing he had won some sort of battle, but when he saw the excited gleam in George’s eyes when they looked at each other, he knew he was the true winner. Clay excused himself shortly after, insisting that he was going back to the 3rd class dwellings and thanked the women left at the table for their company. With one last glance at George who stared at him eagerly, he left to wait on the landing on the stairs.

It was hard not to count the minutes waiting there for George since there was a literal clock in front of him, but he convinced himself that the more anxious he made himself, the more of an eternity it would feel like. Instead, he opted to drink in more of the details of the foyer of the 1st class accommodations. He was eager to get back to his sketchbook in his cabin and recite as many details as he could remember to show to Nick in the morning.

He was drawn out of his reverie by the sound of someone clearing their throat. When he looked to the side, George was standing there with a grin from ear to ear. “You requested my presence?” he said formally.

“Yes,” he said, a bit breathless at having the beautiful omega so close to him. Truly, not even the glittering chandeliers and shining marble could compare to him.

“Are you going to tell me why?” George teased when Clay didn’t say anything further. His cheeks reddened at the realization. He wanted to say something, to compliment him, to see his face light up under the crystalized light, but the words caught in his throat.

“Oh yes. I was wondering if you’d like to come to a real party tonight.”

Chapter Text

George could already feel the heavy burdens of his life begin to slip away as they ran down the long hallway of the third class compartments. He held his uncomfortable dress shoes in one hand, and his other hand held tightly onto Clay’s. They continuously dodged people who plastered themselves to the walls of the hallways, seeing two young adult boys barreling towards and past them laughing with glee. Some scowled and yelled at them to watch where they were going, but others looked on fondly seeing the young pair enjoying themselves.

As they got closer to their destination, George could hear the loud music coming from the large gathering area of the bottom level of the ship. Along with the music, the sound of loud and drunk people and smell of alcohol filled his senses.

Clay led them into the large room that looked like a large mess hall that had been renovated into a place for a wild party. Tables had been pushed from the center where people were dancing together. On the outside of the center of the room, people of all ages sat at the tables drinking beer and laughing fondly and loudly. There was a makeshift stage where a band played a chorus of instruments that created the fast paced music that allowed people to jig and let go without a care in the world. On the far wall, a large bar was being manned by only a couple of people who were constantly serving drinks nonstop to the ship’s patrons. Still, they didn’t seem to mind the craziness and everyone seemed quite happy with the party. Everyone except George.

Though he appreciated the tone of the space and people was completely different from the first class parlor, and he was beyond grateful for the change, it was extremely overwhelming. The sights and sounds and crowd that was all in this suddenly small room was too much. Still, he wanted to stay to both not disappoint Clay and because he was curious. The space was completely foreign to him because it was wild and inclusive and fun. The people hadn’t batted an eye at him, and he felt the restrictions of his life on the first class deck drift away.

Clay immediately drank up the energy of being at the party. While George sat down and watched fondly from the sidelines, Clay danced near the edge of the crowd so he was never far away from the omega. Currently, he was dancing with a little girl who was drinking up the attention from him. George looked to the side to see a man he guessed was her father watching happily and clapping to the music. He couldn’t help but notice that Clay didn’t mind giving all of his attention to the little girl. She only reached his mid-torso, but he danced with her in a way that made her squeal with joy and happiness.

He didn’t realize, though, that the blonde glanced his way every so often to make sure that he was still having fun. And George was. The room was filled with laughter and joy and spirit which were not things he was used to. Not in the way that people like Clay lived. These people were so carefree and jovial despite the hardships they’ve undoubtedly faced in their lives. George’s sufferings were so miniscule compared to theirs, yet he felt they were a weight keeping him from reaching the surface of the water. He was afraid that he’d never be able to live a life where he didn’t care.

Out of the corner of his eye, Clay saw the distanced look in George’s eye. His lips were ever so slightly down turned and his mind was somewhere far off.

“Spin me, Clay!” the little girl in front of him, Delilah, cheered. He turned back to see her bright smile that reminded him of his youngest sister’s smile, something that became the barest remembrance of a frayed memory in his mind. He smiled and obliged her request, lifting her up in his arms and spinning them around so her skirt fluttered in the air. Her joyful laugh broke through the noise of the crowd and continued to ring even after he put her feet back on the ground. When she took his hands into hers, he kneeled down so he could also focus on George who was sitting on the sidelines behind her.

“Hey, Delilah. Why don’t you go back to your papa? I’m sure he’d love to dance with you,” he asked sweetly, hoping the girl would take the bait. His eyes glanced at George who still seemed to be a bit of a daze.

The smart girl followed his line of sight towards the pretty omega, and a grin broke out on her face. “You want to dance with him, don’t you?” she asked knowingly. Clay had to guess she was 8 or 9 at the most, but she was awfully observant. He didn’t even have to answer, the warmth on his cheeks was enough of an answer to the young girl, and she took his hand, hauling him towards George.

She tapped George’s shoulder to grab his attention. He jumped at the sudden interruption to his train of thought but softened seeing the young girl and a sheepish looking Clay in tow. “Hello, sir, Clay here would like to dance with you!” she said proudly and without any room for objection. “He’s a good dancer, I swear.”

George couldn’t think properly for a moment at the sudden demand from the little girl and the bright blush on Clay’s cheeks. “You would like to dance?” he asked Clay to confirm that the little girl wasn’t just playing a trick on the both of them. Clay only nodded meekly. He’d never seen an alpha act so shy. It was never something he’d never expect from Clay who was so confident and sure of himself all the time. Seeing him almost hiding behind the girl who only reached his hips was a sight, but George couldn’t help but find it endearing.

Assuming his answer, the girl lifted Clay’s hand for George to take. George laid his hand over the alpha’s and felt the heat spread throughout his body almost immediately. Delilah giggled as the couple hesitated, and she intervened again. “This is the part where you dance,” she whispered, looking up at Clay.

The band began another song. George wasn’t familiar with the type of music that was fast and upbeat, like a jig. Immediately people surrounding them got up out of their seats to partake in a dance that already had well known choreography. Couples performed similar steps, albeit a bit sloppily because of the alcohol lifting up their spirits, with women swinging their skirts and men clapping to the rhythm of the bass.

“I don’t know how to dance,” George told him nervously. Technically, he knew how to dance as he was forced by his mother to learn a typical waltz and other classical styles, but something so loose and fun as this he was clueless about.

Clay seemed to grow in confidence though as he led them through the crowd. They made their way towards a large table that had been vacated because of the popularity of the song. He put one leg up on the chair and looked back at George. “I’ll show you,” he said, climbing all the way up on the table. George hesitated, but he never let go of Dream’s hand. He pulled himself up on the chair and then on the table, like Dream, so they were standing, looking over the crowd.

They had entered what George had guessed was the chorus, and the steps became a bit simpler and repetitive. He watched Clay’s movements as he stopped, leaned forward, and clapped. There was flair and variation, but the cycle was simple as George learned. Clay turned, and George did the same. He would stomp, and George would follow ensuite. People were cheering around them as music and noise filled the space leaving no room for George to feel embarrassed. Here, he only felt alive as his feet memorized the movements and he began not caring about what his body was doing. He simply moved without thought with the music.

Beside him, Clay was also dancing wildly with a loopy smile on his face while looking at George. When it got to the verse again, about only half the crowd knew the steps so most just moved without a set choreography in mind. Clay turned so he faced George and grabbed his hands to make sure the shorter one was watching him. He broke out into an impromptu dance with his legs moving wildly and banging on the table below them when he stomped which made George cackle, highly amused by the alpha’s talent. With their hands still interlocked, he performed a similar dance based on his own instinct that was similarly outrageous and lame, but he had never felt so connected to another person before.

By the time the chorus came around again, many people were watching the young couple having the times of their lives on top of the center table. A lot smiled at their carefree jovialness and clapped along to the music to encourage their dance. George twirled with a flourish and grabbed Clay’s hands once again to bring him close then away again so their arms made a slanted diamond.

Their movements became wilder as the music began its crescendo, approaching the bridge, and Clay started spinning them both so the room around them spun but their hands and eyes remained interlocked. It was thrilling, and if George wasn’t so high on endorphins he would’ve realized how dangerous it was to spin on top of the tabletops giggling and laughing into tomorrow. But he didn’t care.

The song eventually had to come to an end as did their dance. It ended in a rush as George felt weightless when in Clay’s arms who brought him close, holding him in his arms. On the final notes, Clay spun George so their hands were extended at a point above their heads. Once the song finished, Clay suddenly felt the absence of breath from his chest, his ears filled with the noise of the cheering around him. George suddenly felt far away, and he brought him in closer for a proper hug, to savor the moment. He let himself breathe in the scent that reminded him so much of his happiest moments and of home. It was those feelings he was beginning to associate with George.

Clay stepped off from the table and offered George, who was shorter and couldn’t do it as easily, a hand. Suddenly, two beers were being handed to them from someone and in the crowd from a stranger woman with a knowing smile.

They shrugged and looked at each other as they drank.

Chapter Text

Jay was sitting on the sun deck when George came out for breakfast. He quickly analyzed the alpha’s body language, finding it helpful to do so whenever interacting with him though he was quite fickle. Jay was reclined, but his body was tense as he read the paper. George could tell by his fleeting eyes that he was merely skimming which meant that something else was likely on the alpha’s mind which was never a good thing. He wanted to turn around and flee back to his room, but the alpha was quick to acknowledge George to keep him in place.

“Good morning, love,” he said. Normally, it was a sweet thing to say to a partner, but George’s blood ran cold at the slight sharpness in his fiance’s tone. “I noticed you came back to the cabin rather late last night.”

George steeled himself, not allowing Jay to so easily tarnish his fond memories of his evening with Clay so easily. “That’s none of your concern,” he stated as confidently as he could. Still, he found he couldn’t directly meet Jay’s eyes.

“God damn it George. Of course it is,” he exclaimed while standing up with a flourish. George flinched when Jay’s hand slammed on the table. It all came crashing down due to Jay’s force. The plates landed in pieces, and the food was ruined on the floor. “I am trying to be civil.”

“You are no such thing!” George countered strongly. All of the pent up rage and aggression he had towards his fiance seemed to fuel his outraged tone. Usually, he was one to rebel passive aggressively, but something he couldn’t put his finger on made his outlook change. Jay only had power over him if George gave him that. “If it were up to you, I’d be confined under lock and key and left to rot. Only to be brought out whenever you need your omega partner to show off. That is not me.”

He felt the sting on his cheek before he registered that Jay had slapped him. One of the servants standing to wait on them gasped, and George was frozen.

“You’re right. But it will be. I’ll make sure of it, starting with that alpha you’ve been spending time with.” The alpha left no room for argument nor did he show any care for George whose eyes were downcast on the floor. He felt the sound of his heartbeat blend with the loud footsteps of Jay who walked away from the mess with clean hands. Typical.

“Oh Mr. Davidson. Are you alright?” Jane, one of the maids assigned to their suite, asked after she made sure Jay was out of ear sight. Her hand felt cool against the cheek that had been slapped.

“I- I’m so sorry about the mess,” he choked out, feeling the drop from his adrenaline high. He scrambled to bend down and begin collecting the plate shards. Tears filled his eyes when the heavy burden of his circumstances once again came down on his shoulders. This time, he didn’t have enough time to put up his walls and he choked out a large sob before he could stop himself.

Jane took him into her arms, letting him cry into her shoulder. A boundary between patron and servant had been crossed, but she was right to know that it was what George needed in that moment. George had only known her for the short time of being on the ship, but she was nothing but considerate and kind to George, always going the extra mile. It was in her job description, but he also felt that there was something more to it than she said. He couldn’t refuse her motherly tendencies.

“Oh hush about that,” she said as he continued crying. She released a calming omega pheromone which made George feel more at ease and less threatened. The threat to his freedom had already left the deck. He relaxed and pulled away. She gave him a soft smile as he wiped away the tears on his sleeve. “That was a courageous thing you did there, sweetie. Standing up to him like that.”

He sniffed and looked at her with glassy eyes. He felt drained completely of his energy and of his spirit. “But there isn’t a point, is there? There’s no use trying to change fate. I’m going to be his mate.”

-

Clay had been looking for George all day. They had mournfully parted ways last night with alcohol sitting in their stomach and giggles filling the air. Clay couldn’t sleep, though, wondering if George was okay. He knew Jay was… protective of him, and George had expressed some nervousness when he left for his cabin from the upper deck. Worry and fear had plagued his scent, but he refused for Clay to walk him back to his own cabin. The potential scent of another alpha would make things so much worse.

From the lower deck, he kept his eyes locked on the upper deck, trying to find a glance of the beautiful boy with no luck. His hope that the omega would come to the railing and smile at him was dwindling until he saw Alex. The other omega locked eyes with Clay almost immediately, and his gaze wavered before he subtly motioned for him to make his way up there.

He practically jumped up from his seat and had to keep himself from running to the stairs to the upper deck. Clay made sure that no one was looking as he ducked under the chain “blocking” the stairs from use from the lower deck, and he skipped stairs while walking up. God he was whipped.

He kept his head down when he made his way up there to keep from arising too many suspicions, but his clothes that were yellow and frayed with use were a dead giveaway. He quickly snatched a top hat and gentleman’s large overcoat to help himself blend in at least a little more. Alex watched him from afar before discreetly pointing a finger towards the direction of where a group of upper class women were leisurely strolling around and gossiping. Clay recognized George’s mother leading the conversation, laughing a bit too loudly to make sure the others knew of her presence, and George was next to her.

He seemed fine at first glance, though off in his own world and ignoring the conversation around him, but Clay saw the strange gaze in his eyes and slump in his shoulders which wasn’t something normal for him. His instinct told him to intervene and protect him at all costs, but doing so might be a death sentence for either or both of them. The situation was delicate and required some thought before action. And Clay knew that George wasn’t helpless. Half of the things George has been through would leave another person drowning. He was strong, but that didn’t stop Clay from wanting to be by his side to make sure he wasn’t alone.

He blended into the background easily, leaning against the railing to look out at the sea. His back was turned and the stolen clothing helped him enough to not raise any suspicion. Still, his focus wasn’t on the sea, but on the sound of the hoard of clicking heels. Every so often, he’d turn his head to glance back on the deck to see where they were. They were just making a lap on the deck with umbrellas held above their heads to shield their porcelain skin from the sun. Clay was convinced they’d burn under the sun like cold hearted vampires.

George wasn’t under an umbrella, and the sun rays added a warm tint to his skin, contrasting the silver sheen the moonlight added the night they had first met. Clay could practically list the differences of George from then to now, but both versions of him were so beautiful.

The footsteps got closer and louder. Clay took one last glance to see George lingering towards the back of the group with Alex next to him. They were whispering to themselves, completely separate from the larger conversation and were making their way towards Clay. He made sure to avoid the eyes of the women who passed by, but he was quick to grab George’s arm when he passed by.

The omega was startled. He noticed that George was still tense when he realized it was Clay, and he quickly released his grasp, though that didn’t seem to help any with George’s nerves either. He wouldn’t meet Clay’s eyes.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Alex said before walking off. George even looked annoyed when he rolled his eyes and grabbed Clay’s wrist, walking them into one of the secluded rooms on the top deck. It was some sort of antechamber, but there was no traffic coming from either way so they had plenty of privacy away from prying eyes.

“What are you doing here?” George asked through gritted teeth.

“What do you mean? You had no problem with me being on the upper deck yesterday,” Clay responded, trying to keep his tone level as possible. George was acting strangely, and he needed to know why. “What’s wrong?”

He ignored the last question. Again, his eyes were casted aside instead of looking at Clay. “I didn’t mean up here,” he spat, then paused. “We shouldn’t be together,” he said with uncertainty laced in his tone.

“I never meant to insinuate we were together,” Clay insisted, though he wouldn’t object if that’s what George wanted. He was undoubtedly attracted to the omega, but he didn’t want to push him too far too quickly. Assuming their relationship was anything more than a immediate attraction and dipping their toes in the water was hasty, but Clayknew it could run deeper if given the time. He wanted to, but he wouldn’t push George if that wasn’t what he wanted. He had read the signs as something that interested the omega, but he could have misinterpreted them easily. The sudden distance George was trying to place between them was strange, and Clay would respect it if he believed that was what George truly wanted. But his instincts told him that something unsaid was affecting the omega. Like something was suffocating him.

“I can’t see you again,” George stated as if it were a fact. As if he really, truly intended to walk out of the small room they were in and never lay eyes on him again. His facade was strong, but Clay couldn’t believe him so easily. “I don’t want to.” It was all too sudden for Clay to truly believe him, but he couldn’t do anything if it was what he truly wanted.

His forehead creased as he took George’s hands in his with no resistance from the shorter. “George…” he said softly. He wanted to say that George hadn’t meant what he had said, but the words died in his throat. There was something desperate and primal and tragic in his coffee eyes that deterred Clay. He realized that what George was saying, he was saying for survival. Whether it was for himself or for Clay, he wasn’t sure, but he wouldn’t be surprised if it were for the both of them. “Is that really what you want? You never want to see me again?”

George wordlessly nodded, not making eye contact with him.

Something inside nagged at him to dig deeper to search for more answers, but he couldn’t. It would only hurt George more, and really, he knew and accepted long ago that this whole trip had been too good to be true. He should have realized that George had only been a dream, an apparition, from the beginning.

“Goodbye, George,” he said. He leaned down to kiss him for the first and last time on the lips. It wasn’t a ploy to get him to stay or convince him to take his harmful words back. It was a selfish act for Clay. There wasn’t any heat or need behind it. He greedily wanted to taste George one last time. When he pulled away, George had his eyes closed, and his lips were slightly parted. When he opened them, it was like the color rushed back to his face, and his eyelashes fluttered on his cheeks.

Clay was the first to leave the small room and then the upper class deck, feeling a piece of his heart being thrown into the ocean with every step.

George watched as Clay left the small room they were in, feeling surprisingly empty. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing, meaning he hadn’t had enough time to create a true connection with Clay or if it was worrying. Maybe something was wrong with him because he knew that last night, those exciting moments with Clay were like nothing he had ever experienced before, but now he was numb.

The rest of the day was quiet and uneventful for George. Not because nothing happened. No, his mother was adamant about keeping their schedule jam packed as they were constantly meeting with other first class passengers. His mother called it “networking,” and she was always eager to introduce her son as “the fiancé to Jay Schlatt” before George Davidson. It felt just like one of the nails in his coffin he was put in that would be thrown into the sea, left to sink to the bottom.

It was tea time, and they were dining with some of the other women. His mother chastised him for not responding like she wanted to the questions thrown his way more openly. Before, when they were meeting with other important people, she couldn’t find a way to discreetly tell him that he was making her look bad with his curt responses. Now, she would slap his wrist and give her son her infamous bulging eyes that meant she was not happy. George didn’t care.

He’d never admit that he’d miss Clay, not even to himself. He thought it was pathetic that he’d only seen the alpha a couple of hours ago, but he wanted to find him and beg on his hands and knees for his forgiveness. Clay and him had been apart for longer, he knew he truly wasn’t that dependent, but the finality of their last meeting left its mark on him. He felt like something that had been lighted inside him during this trip had been snuffed out. But still, no matter how long he’d ruminate on it, his sense of duty outweighed his guilt.

But then he asked himself, what does he have a duty towards?

He staring at his crumb-filled plate instead of engaging in the conversation around the table, much to his mother’s chargin. He felt miserable and stuck.

“George? George, were you listening to what Mrs. Prattle asked you?” his mother asked, his patience wearing as thin as her upper lip, pushed into an overbearing smile.

“Hmm?” he hummed, looking up. It seemed to him no coincidence that Mrs. Prattle was her name as that seemed to be what she was good at. She launched into a story, content to have the attention of the room as she made large gestures that everyone’s eyes followed. Everyone except George. He was dazed, watching her as she added more vibrancy than one should be able to to a dreadfully boring story. Instead, his eyes trailed off to what was going on behind her.

They were the only ones in the dining room except for the mother and son, no older than 8, sitting alone at one of the tables behind her. George watched as the mother was fussing over her son, no doubtedly going to present as an omega. His eyes were a brilliant blue that George could see even from where he was, two tables away.

He watched them intently, feigning that his attention was actually on Mrs. Prattle. The mother adjusted the boy’s clothes which he knew was made of fine material just like his. The pinched look on his mother’s face reflected that of George’s own. The mother of the small boy continued to teach him proper table etiquette. She adjusted him at every step so his hands, even his fingers were positioned correctly. She lifted a teacup to her lips before practically slamming it down on the table to fix his grip when he didn’t immediately pick it up.

It was like looking through a mirror through time. He had once been that little boy. Only important when being given orders or when being shown off like a prize pony. What had changed since then? Nothing.

“George? George.” his mother said through gritted teeth. Even though it’d be admonished for his mother to physically correct him because he was now an adult, she found a way. She always found a way.

And what has come from it? George felt like he was losing air and losing the opportunity. Truly, if he were to follow Jay and the life his mother wants for him, he’d die. He’d die never having truly lived. And now, it seemed like a better fate to jump off the ship that first night. Then he thought of Clay who had stopped him.

Patient and spontaneous and beautiful Clay who could make him laugh and cry and make him feel like he was breathing for the first time. He had pushed him away wrongfully, but he had to see him again.

He made a decision at that table, surrounded by women who he was sure didn’t know what it was like to live or gain knowledge and experience with someone you loved. He didn’t want whatever they had.

“I need to leave,” he said suddenly, wiping his mouth with his napkin and standing up.

“You will be excused, first,” his mother insisted sternly, though she didn’t offer such. When he began to move away from the table, she grabbed his wrist to stop him. “George Henry Davidson. Listen to your mother.”

His eyes found the small boy watching him with curiosity, and his mother looking at him with disdain. Good, he’ll see this. George tugged his wrist away, hearing the other women at the table audibly gasp. “No. Not anymore.” And he walked away.

Alex had been sitting with some of the other servants at a far off table, so he hadn’t seen what George had done, but he knew he’d be proud of him. George knew the other omega hated the snobby rich, and it was complimenting to know that he liked George because he wasn’t such.

“Alex, can you help me?” he practically begged, but he was also eating with friends and not on the clock. He didn’t want to force him, especially since he was technically under his mother’s jurisdiction as her unbonded omega son. Alex was as well as a servant of the family, and he would definitely be fired if he helped him.

Alex just looked at him with a proud smirk. “Yeah, yeah man. What’s up?” he stood up and followed George out of the parlor.

When they were outside and he realized no one was following him (his mother was probably scurrying off to tell Jay to corral his fiancé) he told Alex. “I stood up to her,” he said, feeling liberated with the words coming out of his mouth. “And I need to find Clay. The last time we talked, we hadn’t ended on the best terms. I need to see him again to apologize.” Even if Alex didn’t know where he could find Clay (he was more hoping he knew where Nick and Karl were) he’d scour every inch of the floating vessel if need be.

Eventually, they found Clay. It was Alex, who told George that Clay was on the front of the ship, watching the sunset.

He ran out onto the patio and down the stairs to get to him. The small dot that Clay was on the horizon line slowly got bigger as George got closer. “Clay!” he called out when he was only a few feet away. Clay turned around and smiled when he saw him.

“I knew you couldn’t resist me,” he teased, pinking up the omega’s cheeks.George walked up so they were together at the furthest point of the ship. It was just the beginning of the sunset, and the waves reflected the bright orange of the sun.

“It’s beautiful,” George said, admiring the saturated sunlight on his skin. It warmed him from the inside out.

“I thought you never wanted to see me again,” Clay told him, cutting to the chase. His voice held hurt, though George knew he was holding back. His eyes weren’t as good at concealing what he was feeling.

George lifted his hand and gingerly rested his palm against Clay’s cheek. His skin was rough as he ran his thumb under his eye where a stray tear had escaped. He leaned up and let their lips meet in a soft, quick kiss. “I’m sorry,” he breathed out as he pulled away, though he never broke eye contact. He searched Clay’s eyes for any reaction as he continued to talk. “I was hasty and wanted to push you away because I didn’t want you to get hurt because of me. Then, I realized how you make me feel, and it may be selfish, but I can’t lose you.”

The corner of Clay’s lip upturned, and he intertwined his hand with George’s that was on his face. They turned back towards the sunset. “Nick and I first came up when we got on the ship,” he explained, squeezing George’s hand. “Do you trust me?”

George didn’t even have to think. “With everything I have.” Clay instructed him to stand up on one of the rungs of the rail of the ship. His hands gripped tightly the top of the rail to keep him steady since the rails he was standing on were quite thin. He watched as Clay did the same with his legs spread a bit wider as he got up behind him. When he was in the similar position as George, he could feel the man’s chest against his back. “Give me your hands. I got you. I won’t let you fall,” he said softly into George’s ear which made him shiver. “Slowly.”

He obliged and gave Clay one of his hands, straightened slightly, before giving him his other. He let him spread their arms out so they both could fully feel the effect of the wind blowing against them. He gasped, feeling the foreign and exuberant feeling against his chest. It made his hair and his clothes fall in ripples behind him, but he never worried about flying away in the wind because Clay remained a grounded presence behind him.

“This is how you make me feel,” Clay told him, his deep and tangible voice different from the wind whispering in his other ear. “Like I’m king of the world.”

George craned his neck around and kissed Clay again but with more feeling than before. It made the moment completely and utterly perfect.

Chapter Text

Late afternoon turned out to be a busy part of the day on the ship. Clay had donned his stolen disguise, and he and George were navigating their way back to George’s cabin without any interference from staff or people who knew George. He had told Clay that everyone was likely getting prepared for dinner, and they’d have the cabin to themselves. Clay liked the sound of that.

He was taken aback by the luxury of George’s suite when he first walked in, even just in the antechamber. The moment he stepped foot into his and Nick’s room, he was surrounded by beds, a sink, and a toilet. Just the first room they stepped into looked like it was about three times the size of his room on the ship. Being rich baffled him sometimes.

“This is magnificent!” he roared, looking at all of the details of the space. There were hand carved wooden decorations on the walls, embroidered seat cushions, and lights that didn’t flicker. Never before had Clay been surrounded by such plush luxury.

“Yeah, it should be,” George deadpanned, looking around with disinterest. “Jay had insisted we have the best cabin on the ship.”

Figuring George didn’t want any more questions asked, Clay changed the subject. “So, why did you bring me back to your cabin?” he asked, trying to keep the suggestive tone to a minimum. It didn’t help apparently, because George became beet red, and he locked the cabin door. Anyone with a key (the people he most wanted not to walk in on them) could unlock the door easily, but at least it’d give them a bit of a warning.

“I want you to draw me like one of your french omegas,” he said confidently.

Clay was shocked, but slowly, a smile came over his face. “What are you waiting for, then?”

He began flipping through the drawing notebook he always kept on him and found a stray pencil he could use. He saw George hesitating, though, and quickly reassured him, “hey, we don’t have to do this, you know.”

“No, no. I want to. Just… give me a moment.” George disappeared into one of the bedrooms and it took him a few moments to come back out. He had taken off his clothes and was donning a silk white robe that wasn’t tied since it wouldn’t take long for it to be taken off. His hand that wasn’t keeping the robe covering him was tightly clenched around something. “Will you fasten this for me?” he asked, holding out that largest rock Clay had ever seen. Well, not really because Clay had seen a lot of rocks, but this one was obviously valuable. Like, potentially could rival the value of the whole Titanic valuable. When it was transferred to him, he wasn’t expecting the heavy, dense weight.

“What is this?” he asked curiously, taking a closeup look of the necklace. It was relatively simple in composition with the large stone that was a deep, royal blue color surrounded with a halo of diamonds that looked like grains of sand next to the pendant stone even though one of them alone would easily be worth a pretty penny. Practically the whole chain was made of the same clear diamonds. He fastened the necklace around George’s neck.

“They call it the “Heart of the Sea.” Blue sapphire since that’s the most vibrant color I can see. It was an engagement gift from Jay, but it feels more like a dog’s collar than anything,” he scoffed. But then he visibly softened, and he turned around to face Clay. “I’m sorry I’m really seeming like a snobbish spoiled brat right now. Really, I’m grateful for my life, but-“ he paused because he didn’t know what else to say. It was hard to convey that he was grateful for the luxuries in his life yet still want to jump off the boat if it weren’t for Clay.

Clay stopped before he had to continue. “Don't worry, George. I understand,” he said sincerely. George, who could see Clay’s emotions revealed in his radiant yellow eyes, believed him. “Make yourself comfortable,” he ordered before taking a seat in the armchair he had moved to face the couch.

He watched intently as George turned around and slid the robe off his body, letting it fall to the ground. His skin was milky white though tinged with the slightest hint of yellow due to the natural candlelight. It casted pale shadows where his skin and bones dipped.

George laid down on the sofa and assumed a position that was natural but still staged. Captured in one image, it would look like he had just fell and laid down on the sofa so effortlessly and beautifully. “Are you comfortable?” Clay asked, trying to tell himself to see George as art for the moment and not become pleasured by the sight in front of him. He really didn’t need a hard on which would severely break his sense of professionalism. “You’ll be lying like this for a bit.” He only had one pencil and no colors at his disposal at the moment, so there wasn’t much detail he could go into, but George had asked him to do it and there was no way he was going to let him down with a portrait done in 10 mintues.

George took a second to readjust so his hips were pivoted slightly but more relaxed. In this position, his torso was almost fully facing Clay, but his bottom half was rotated slightly with more of his perky ass being able to be seen rather than his also semi-hard length. “Okay,” he said.

Clay worked away, beginning with loose shapes that he would come to shade in. He drew wisps of hair where it was needed and erased areas that most captured and held the lights of the candles. He formed the shape of the necklace that sat laid against the center of George’s chest, just right of his actual heart. He added details and evidence of its glimmer in the low light but made sure that it wasn’t the focus of the drawing. That laid in the recreation of George’s eyes. Dark and contrasting against the blank spanse of skin that covered the page, but he added highlights and details that he thought came as close as it could to capturing the vibrancy and life that George held.

He worked quickly for George’s sake but remained as accurate as possible. If it were up to him, he’d be drawing for over 24 hours with all of the art supplies in the world at his disposal so he could truly capture his breath taking his George was. He was sure his masterpiece would be able to rival the Mona Lisa. But this drawing would only be for himself and for George’s eyes, and that was for the better. Clay liked that option a lot more.

“Finished,” Clay said, putting his pencil down. George stretched his stiff muscles and reached to cover himself with his robe before taking a seat on the arm of Clay’s chair. He took the piece of paper Clay handed him, and he was completely taken away.

“Clay…” he trailed off at a loss of words. He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting. He guessed it would be similar to what he saw when he looked in the mirror, but this was so different. If this was hanging up in a gallery, he would’ve known from a glance that the artist was completely and utterly in love with the subject. That they thought of the subject of the masterpiece as an angel or a deity. “You made me beautiful.”

Clay placed his hand over George’s fingertips clutching onto the paper, and he forced him to lower it. He found himself tranced looking into his golden eyes that almost seemed amber in the lowlight. George could only think of one simple way to describe how Clay looked at him then and there: with love.

“I can’t make you seem like what you already are.”

George couldn’t find any words to say, but he hoped his eyes mirrored Clay’s adoring look. He reached around and began kissing him and kissing him, imagining the passion leave his lips and sit between them and making the air grow hot. He changed position so he was now sitting on Clay’s lap to make the kissing easier. His hands ran through the hair at the nap of his neck as his hips had trouble keeping still and he traced his bottom lip with his tongue.

When the air between them became stale, George pulled away with his chest raising and sinking with breath. He had kissed his fair number of people, but that was by far the best. He smiled at Clay’s dazed look and lowered to kiss him sweetly again. The small peck brought Clay back to consciousness, and he grinned like he was seeing the stars.

“I love-“ Clay began, but he was cut off by a loud knock on the suite’s door.

“Mr. Schlatt? It’s Keith Browning from the captain’s office. We’re still searching for your fiancé, George, but I’d like to ask you a few questions to see if we can narrow down where he might be.” They exchanged a frenzied glance at the intruder.

“We need to leave,” George whispered, going to stand up. Quickly, he took off the necklace and grabbed the drawing. He put them in the large safe in the closet next to his parting gift to Jay and locked it. Clay had his coat back on, and he took his hand and dashed.

They opened the door, completely stunning the man neither of them recognized on the other side, and they ran past him before he could register in his mind who they were. They were already close to the steps leading down into the heart of the ship when they heard the man’s whistle.

Leading a wild goose chase with the love of your life holding your hand actually turned out to be pretty fun, and George was giggling. With a hoard of footsteps stampeding behind them, George directed them to go down one more level, the bottom of the ship, hoping they might be able to lose them somewhere down there. It was definitely more crowded than the other areas of the ship, and they came up to a door that led into the boiler and engine rooms. Workers covered in coal dust looked up at the invaders which usually didn’t come around those parts of the ship. Some yelled at them as they weaved their way through, but they were only laughing. George could only imagine the coal dust that would cling to his silk robe.

Behind them, they could hear the boiler workers yelling to the officers where George and Clay had ran, but they were a good length behind. Turning through the snaking of people only as a pair proved to be a good way to build distance as the group of about five officers couldn’t keep up as easily.

The next door led to a large cargo holding area where they were surrounded by large boxes and even a car. “Quick, get in the car,” Clay told him as he opened the door to exit the cargo hold. He didn’t leave, though, and he got into the front seat of the car while George stayed in the back. They kept their heads low as they heard the men make it to the end of line of furnaces that kept the ship running.

“They went in here, sir,” they heard the muffled voice, likely of one of the boiler workers, say. The iron door groaned as it opened.

“Sir, it looks like they exited this room, and that doorway leads to the stairs up to the main decks. They could be anywhere by now,” one of the officers said.

“Split up, Two of you go back through the boiler and search the stern. The rest of us will go up and search the bow.” They then heard two clangs of the doors being shut.

“I think we’re safe here for the time being,” Clay said, keeping an eye on the doors for the next few moments. George sighed, head kept low. He was lounged against the backseat of the car. Clay turned around and smirked. “Where may I drive you to, sir?”

George returned the grin and leaned forward. “To the stars.” His fingertips brushed against Clay’s chin, and he pulled him forward so their lips could meet. They moved in sync, chasing passion, and George gripped at his coat, pulling him towards the back.

It wasn’t graceful pulling the lanky man over the seat, and he practically landed in a heap on the floor, but neither cared as they were quick to get their lips on one another again.

Chapter Text

He could sense his nervousness with his body next to his. In the way his kisses were filled with heat and fever but still hesitant. Still caring. But it only made George more desperate to be loved and full in more ways than one. Clay just needed a push. His arms and body kept George trapped with his back against his seat, and he was painfully aware they weren’t actually making contact. “Put your hands on my body,” he instructed softly. Clay looked shocked for a moment, but gently, he moved his hands so they were running down George’s body making him feel electricity.

Clay’s hands landed on his hips, gripping them and applying pressure, but still somehow with feather light touches. He connected their lips in a hot and escalating kiss that encouraged George to run his hands along the hair at the base of Clay’s neck and his hands sliding under George’s blouse.

His hands slid up and down his stomach making George’s breath shaky until he reached his chest and rubbed his thumbs over his sensitive nipples. George gasped at the sudden peak of feeling encouraging Clay to deepen their kiss and George in turn tug lightly on his longer hair. The feverish contact felt like a breath of fresh air. When Clay pulled away, their chests were heaving as need and desire continued to consume them.

“How far do you want to take this?” he asked with such a patient and loving tone, George was convinced that he’d never hurt again as long as he was with Clay. The rough skin of Clay’s thumb ran over the delicate skin of George’s cheek, under his eye, and George felt only admiration with the way Clay looked at him like one would a masterpiece.

“As far as you’re willing to take me,” he whispered, reaching up to run his own finger along the blonde’s jaw and up to his cheekbones. Never was he so sure of something knowing that Clay would take care of him in all of the ways he wanted.

A grin broke out on Clay’s face as he reached back down and stuck his face in the crook of George’s neck. Immediately, his lips latched onto his smooth expanse of skin, suckling softly and in different places, never too long to cause a mark, but enough to make George breathless and panting.

“You tell me if I do anything you don’t like, darling,” Clay told him which made George practically cry out when he hit a particularly sensitive spot. Darling had always been Jay’s pet name for him, but it was like poison hearing it from his mouth. The antidote was hearing Clay call him that. Warmth and anticipation bubbled in his stomach.

His hands once again journeyed under his shirt, but when he brought them up his chest, he brought his shirt along with it, encouraging it off of him. George was quick to bring the fabric over his head and threw it to the floor. He gripped the bottom of Clay’s shirt and brought it up off of his head with the help of the alpha.

With both of them topless, they resumed their kissing making the air hot around them. Clay’s hands were down by George’s hips, tracing the edge of his pants and the line of his undergarments while George’s were looped around his neck, desperately holding himself back from running his hands through his hair again. “Please tell me you’ll stop me if I go too far or hurt you,” Clay said when he pulled away once again. The worry and hesitance in his voice was almost endearing, but George also knew he needed to be straightforward with Clay and show him he trusted him.

“I will, Clay. I promise.” With a sudden new motivation, Clay lowered George’s pants and boxers slowly, setting a trail of fire and sparks along the side of his body. Deep arousal settled in his stomach, spreading to every nerve in his body, and he could feel the slick starting to pool from inside him. His scent mixed instinctively other Clay’s own filled the air making the arousal and anticipation palpable.

“God you smell heavenly,” Clay said breathily. His head was nestled in the crook of George’s neck, drinking in his scent like mead. It only made his scent pour out even more, coating every surface from the inside of the car belonging to whichever poor voyager. “Can’t imagine what you’d be like in heat,” His lips left dainty petal-like kisses across where his skin was sensitive. Thinking about being in heat with Clay to help him through, it made George whine and his body shake. He could feel his slick beginning to leak out of him at the proposition of a ripe alpha willing to claim him and his own arousal.

He was sure that he loved Clay, now having spent so many intimate moments and sentiments with him, being with forever felt like a dream within his grasp. But there was still so much lingering doubt. Once they get off the boat and George gets away from his fiancé. Anything could happen in between then. Bad things. “Hey hey,” Clay interjected, seeing the way George was drifting away to an unwanted place. It was a dangerous place for omegas to be during foreplay, and Clay was anchoring him back to where he needed to be. His palm was soft against George’s cheek, looking at him with concerned golden eyes. “Come back to me. Are you doing okay?”

George’s eyes fluttered shut and he takes a deep breath. He focuses on the feeling of Clay’s palms against and thinks that he’s here. He’s here with George, giving him one of the most vulnerable pieces of himself. It’s not Jay who only takes and destroys. It’s Clay.

“Alpha,” he whines, feeling his mind drift off to a different, better place. One where’s completely and utterly happy in this moment with the nurturing and caring alpha above him. Nothing will change that. “Want you in me. Make me forget,” he pleads, still feeling the imprint Jay has on him.

Clay’s grip on him tighten which makes him gasp. It wasn’t painful, but it wasn’t expected from the gentle alpha. He let out a low growl close to his ear that made him shiver with anticipation. “I won’t make you forget, omega. I’ll make you remember.” George could feel the slick thicken and prepare his body, waiting in anticipation for the alpha’s next move.

Both of their trousers were quickly removed, and he couldn’t help the want to drool at the sight of Clay’s cock, standing pert and at attention. Oh how badly he wanted to get his mouth on his length and provide undeniable pleasure to his alpha, but there was barely any room for the both of them in this backseat. He’d have to settle for doing it another time.

One finger broke past his most precious barrier and he mewled at the foreign feeling with his own slick helping ease the process. His nerves were slowly melting away at the gentle touches from Clay who treated him like something to be worshiped. He felt his body overflowing with love which he never knew he could feel for one person as he pumped his single digit in and out of him. “Ready for another,” he whispered as the uncomfortable feeling dissipated. George nodded, and he added another finger.

His pace was slow and loving as he waited patiently for George to tell him to continue. It was hard for George not to become impatient and demand for him to move on to the main event, but he recognized that the alpha needed reassurance as well. “Another, please,” he wished, which was quickly granted. The three fingers inside him filled him up nicely, causing a slight burn that was relieved by Clay’s continuous soft touches and butterfly kisses. He focused on the sweetness rather than the sting and told the alpha confidently, “I’m ready.”

When he began sliding in, it stung more than he was expecting, but it wasn’t a bad pain. His body was made to accept an alpha’s knot. He couldn’t help but let out a shaky exhale that had Clay pausing in his movement, only halfway to being seated fully in the omega.

“Keep going,” George commanded before the man above him could check in verbally. He continued slowly and George let out an instinctive growl because things weren’t progressing like he wanted them to. “Give it to me, alpha. Make me full of your pups.”

It seemed to do the trick because Clay’s eyes flared and he drilled into him suddenly, making George gasp at the sudden jolt of pleasure lined with the inevitable ache. He pulled his cock out only to push back in without time for George to even whine. “That what you wanted mouthy omega?” Clay growled without any true bite behind it. It was all an act, but George loved it.

He arched into his touch, and his nails dug into the meat of Clay’s back and continuously fucked him while holding him close to his chest. All of his senses seemed to dial up to ten as he smelled the heady honey scent of their arousal, and he could feel the heat and sweat surrounding him. The car rocked beneath them as Clay rocked into George at a brutal pace as he arched up into him.

“Clay, alpha. So good. Don’t stop,” he mumbled mindlessly in between gasps and moans.

“Such a good omega taking my cock like you were made for it. Aren’t you? Made for my cock and my cock only,” he growled possessively.

“Yours only your cock. Fills me up so good,” he practically yelled. “So close.” He gasped when he began feeling the slight tug of resistance of Clay’s growing knot along his rim.

“Wait for my knot,” he commanded. His movements became short and jagged as his knot limited his movement and fatigue was likely replacing his adrenaline. It wasn’t long before he could barely move, and they were effectively tied together with very limited movement. “Now,” he said with one last thrust, and he felt his hot come inside of him. George let go with a shout, and his own come painted both of their chests.

“I love you. You’re amazing,” George panted after a moment where he had to recover from his climax of his white hot pleasure. Clay giggled and brought him close to give him a quick kiss.

“I love you, my beautiful omega.”

Chapter Text

Meanwhile, Jay was just arriving back to their room after the officer told him he had found his omega… fondling with another alpha. He told them that they had both been clothed and there had been no other evidence of irrevocable actions, but to Jay, there might as well have been. If word got out that his betrothed was even alone in a private space with another unmated alpha, it could ruin him. He needed to expunge the record before it became written in ink.

“They ran out after they heard me knock, sir,” Keith told him. He looked around, seeing the furniture had been rearranged, but nothing else was out of the ordinary.

“Bring me Alexis, my servant. I must speak to him.” Keith nodded and left the room to retrieve the omega who had been waiting outside.

The police had done a sweep of their suite to find anything amiss of any incriminating evidence, but they didn’t find anything unusual. That didn’t stop Jay from doing his own search, though. He was in the closet of the master bedroom, turning the dial of the safe to open it when Alex made his presence known.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” Jay kept silent in concentration as he swung the safe door open. He immediately noticed the box holding his fiancé’s engagement gift was open and the two other things. The first was a sketchbook opened to a drawing that showed George in a… alluring position as he stared off with a wistful gaze, looking just behind the person drawing him. It was, admittedly, well done, and it was a nice likeliness. But his admiration was tainted as he knew who the artist of the portrait was. He knew it had been the poor excuse of an alpha already, but the “CW” signature in the bottom right was all the reassurance Jay needed.

Along with the portrait was a smaller piece of paper written by his fiancé’s hand.

Suck a dick. That might humble your Atlantic-sized ego -George ♡

He seethed at the demeaning note, and he crumbled it up and threw it to the floor. If he hadn’t had company, he might have thrown a tantrum as he desperately wanted to use his shoe to run it into the ground. Instead, he plastered on a smile and turned to Alex. “Yes, darling. I was wondering if you could help me. I would greatly appreciate what you have to say, and I’m very worried about George, you see,” he said sweetly. He wasn’t oblivious to the other omega’s attraction to him. There was a reason he kept Alex as his personal servant since it wasn’t conventional for an alpha to keep such close confidant with an omega who they didn’t intend on mating. He led Alex on with a string of hope, and in return, he got an errand boy to do his dirty work.

“I know you are close friends with him, and I just worry. I hate knowing that I don’t love George, nor do I think I ever could, but I need to make sure he’s safe.” He approached slowly, with measured steps. There was uncertainty in Alex’s expression as he was listening to Jay’s words. “You know I keep my sincerest faith in only you, Alex. Much more than I ever could in George. Not because he doesn’t deserve trust; he certainly has earned yours. But what about Clay? A no-good ambitionless criminal who is stringing our poor George along like a kite. He’s putting unrealistic dreams in his head for what? An unhappy future.”

At this point of his monologue, he was standing right in front of Alex. He leaned down so his lips grazed the sensitive shell of his ear as he spoke, and his hands grasped the shoulders of his button up, showing his desperation. His own scent gland was right under Alex’s nose, and he was pouring out his scent to overwhelm him. “I need you. To help me keep him safe. And if you do, I’ll be eternally grateful for you mean the world to me, darling.”

Alex shivered at his touch and his tone. Gingerly, he held onto Jay’s sides and raised up to kiss him. He reciprocated it, feigning interest and passion into it as their mouths chased each other. They had kissed before, not to his fiancé’s knowledge, of course, but they had been quick, hidden, and fleeting. Now, Alex was chasing him like a prayer, and Jay was careful to return the fevered energy but prevent it from going any further. He just needed to make sure that hope was implanted in his mind and stayed there.

“I love you,” Alex said, looking into his eyes. Jay smiled and caressed his cheek.

“I know,” and he kissed his forehead. In his hand, he let the Heart of the Sea dangle from its chain so Alex could see it. His eyes reflected the glittering of the diamonds, but instead of attaching it around his neck, Jay took Alex’s open palm. He lowered the heavy rock into his hand and closed his fingers around it. “You know what to do, pet.”

-

George and Clay were enjoying an evening stroll on the top deck. The night air was cold and crisp, and Clay’s (borrowed) coat hung around George’s shoulders as they were bundled close together. Their escapade was still fresh in George’s mind and the ache in his bones, but the frigid outside air felt nice.

“I’ll never forget this night. I’m not sure if I would be able to, even if I wanted,” Clay chuckled. George had his hand resting in the crook of Clay’s elbow, and his head was laid on his shoulder as they walked. He hummed in agreement.

“It was amazing, wasn’t it? Though I must admit, I hope our next time is in a bed,” he said.

“We have, what? Three more days together? Maybe we can sneak into your room. It’d be a bit hard for me to find a time in the day where none of my three other roommates are in my room.”

George stopped them and looked Clay in the eyes, smiling up at him. “And then a lifetime after that,” he said jovially, then he kissed Clay. They both enjoyed the simple moment, but he felt Clay get a little antsy.

“I wish more than anything to see you in London, but we won’t be together, will we?” he asked sadly.

“Actually,” George began, rubbing his thumb along the spanse of skin between Clay’s forefinger and thumb on his hand. His head was down and his tone demure. “I was hoping I could leave the ship with you. If you’ll have me?”

For a fleeting moment, he believed Clay might tell him no. He may assume that he knows what’s best for George and tell him to stay with Jay, but George was sure he wouldn’t be able to live without Clay. Not after everything they’ve been through.

But then a grin stretches across his face, and he takes George by his hips and lifts him up in the air and twirls them around. He can’t withhold the airy giggle that fills his lungs and heart with cold air and warmth. “I swear, you’ll never fail to make me the happiest man in the world,” Clay practically cheered before returning George to the floor. He kissed him softly again, finding that he quickly aches for the taste of his lips.

“No, I believe that title belongs to me.” If Clay could choose how to spend every moment for the rest of his life, it would be with his lips touching George’s.

Around them, the world continued in hurried paces, but Clay was content to remain in his blissful state of reverie with George in his arms. Until he wasn’t. “The boat has hit an iceberg on the eastern side,” one of the crew members near them said. He snapped out of the trance George had over him, and he noticed that there were different crew members whose uniforms led him to believe they were engineers and deck-hands. They were sat on a bench on an upper deck, but there was no one else around them. The workers probably didn’t realize they were right below them and listening to their conversation. “We need to tell the captain and Mr. Soot and begin protocol.”

“I’m sure it was just a scratch. This boat is unsinkable,” another man responded dismissively.

“Do you believe I would joke about a matter such as this?! We’ll be lucky if we have five hours above water.”

George and him exchanged a look. “We have to warn them,” George said. “The other passengers won’t have a clue. Who knows how much time we have left before…” he didn’t need to finish nor did they hear the rest of the conversation before they both ran back towards the state cabin. The door was wide open when they arrived, and there was chatter inside. When they burst in with their hands still intertwined, all eyes turned to them.

“Oh darling, we were so worried about you,” George’s mother exclaimed at the state of her frazzled son. She hugged him, but from close up, Clay could see how her arms only encased him. She put no effort in actually touching or comforting him.

“Listen, you all need to get out of here quickly and up to the top deck. The boat’s been hit, and the crew thinks she will sink before dawn,” George told everyone. But no one moved.

Mr. Browning, scoffed at the notion like he didn’t approve of some sort of prank George was playing. “You’re just a stupid omega if you think this vessel will sink so easily. She is the greatest piece of machinery ever created, the unsinkable!”

Clay began to step forward to defend him, but a quick squeeze from George’s hand kept him at bay. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Alex slide up next to George’s other side to support him as well. Jay, who had been surprisingly silent otherwise, spoke up. “Best believe the boy. At least investigate his claim. Mr. Browning, please go find out what is going on, and come back to us with your findings,” he said. The man hesitated, but he eventually nodded and left the cabin. Clay still hated Jay, but he had to admit he was grateful he trusted George and remained reasonable even though he was a complete asshole.

“Please, get to safety. All of you,” George spoke up, and he began to turn and walk out with Clay in tow.

“Wait wait,” Jay called, making George stop. Oh no. “Dear, I implore you to stay with your mother and Alex.” He approached him and took a proprietary grasp of his chin. Instead of being gentle or caressing, he could see the points where his fingertips dug in slightly because of the grasp he had of his jaw. “It will be where you will be safe, and I will meet you all when I am told that this is all a misunderstanding.”

George seethed at the notion and child-like treatment, and he gripped Jay’s wrist and forced it away. His eyes held fury. “No, Jay. I’m done. You still only think of me like some child, and you’ll never consider my word of importance! I’ll never love you, and I know you will never love me. I’m done pretending that I’m happy when the necklace around my throat has more importance than I do. I wish you well, but I hope I never see you again.” They had almost made it to the door when Jay called for them again.

“And what makes you happy? Enlighten me, then. Is it him?” he asked steadily, motioning to Clay with a disbelieving huff. “He’s not worth more than the dirt on the bottom of my shoe,” he chuckled as if he had just told a joke. Clay felt his insides seize up at his hurtful words. He charged forward, intent on punching a lesson into the guy’s face, but he was held back by one of the other officers on the ship that occupied the room. “In fact, I happen to know that he’s a common criminal who snuck on this ship to escape justice in America. No act is beneath him.”

“That’s a lie! You’re lying. I got my tickets fair and square!” he exclaimed, fighting against the arms holding him from getting closer to Jay. Only devils went after a man’s honor like that when they had nothing to lose. That was what his father had taught him.

“Oh I believe you,” Jay feigned sarcastically, raising his hand to cover his heart. “But does my omega? Why don’t you examine the coat you are wearing, dear?” Clay’s eyes wrenched shut as George obeyed and took it off, though he was wary. Already, he was second guessing his trust in Clay, and he would have been devastated if he hadn’t known he technically had stolen it. George handed it to Jay, and Clay just knew that he was looking at him with those wide brown eyes that loved so much. The incriminating evidence brought against him was in the tag below the collar of the coat. “P. Bowman,” it said.

“Ah yes, I overheard a Peter Bowman earlier say he had lost his coat and hat mysteriously. It had been there this morning over a chair on the top deck, then gone in a moment. Like it just got up and walked away,” he motioned ambiguously for dramatic effect, but a sinister smile creeped on his face. He looked desperately at George, but the man’s head was turned away from him.

“George, you have to understand. It was the only way I could find you. I was going to put it back after I was done. I swear I-“ The glittering of a jewel stopped him. Out of the pocket, Jay pulled out The Heart of the Sea. Everyone in the room gasped at the revelation. “No- No. I didn’t put that there. I- it must have been planted! George, you have to believe me. You put it up yourself.” There were tears in his love’s eyes as he stared at the necklace that was so heavy, it seemed like the thin string of diamonds holding the rock might break at any moment.

“Tsk- tsk Clay. Tell me, why did you string my poor, defenseless fiancé along into your scheme? Did you try to take him away from me just so you could try and get away with my jewels? I never knew a man so cruel.” Clay fully blocked out Jay’s falsely admonishing words, and he focused on George who was lost within his own thoughts.

“George, George. Please, just listen to me. I would have never done any of that. The coat, yes, but I never lied about any other thing. I never would have betrayed your trust for some gaudy thing. I swear on my life. I love you. I would never lie about that-“

“Enough! Officers, please take him to the brig where he will be kept until the end of the journey. Then he will answer for his crimes when we land. As for my fiancé, you will leave with your mother and Alex who will take care of you until I see you again.” Clay resisted and thrashed as he was dragged away, and he saw Jay kiss the forehead of a stoic George.

Chapter Text

Silently, he was led down into what could only be described as the bowels of the ship. The officers who had tight grips on his arms led him through passageways that swiveled and turned way too often. Clay felt like he may get dizzy, though it provided a good distraction from thinking about George. He hadn’t been able to get his two cents in before Jay came in between them and painted him as a no-good criminal, and no one had allowed him to explain himself. Yes, he would own up to some of his less moral actions that could be used against him in a courthouse, but his crimes were small insignificant acts that kept him alive. A stolen apple or two from a fruit stand or the swindling of a $20 bill from a man who was clearly better off. Something like stealing jewels or taking advantage of innocent person because of his schemes. It wasn’t what Clay did. He had been nothing but genuine with George, but now he was afraid that he wouldn’t get the chance to tell him that he truly loved him. He just hoped that he didn’t see him as the monster Jay made him seem like.

As they descended lower, he noticed that he saw less and less passengers. When they got to the hallways below even the level his quarters were on, he saw only staff with maybe a couple of straggling passengers who were exploring. The area of the ship wasn’t restricted from patrons, but very few had wanted to see it. Clay wondered where the ship had hit. He felt nauseous thinking that the hole that would undoubtedly cause the flooding of the ship could be closer to him than he thought.

He had been expecting to be kept in a cell or at least have a locked door between himself and the rest of the ship. Instead, the officers had taken him to the bottom of the ship into a plain room that might have been some sort of small office, and they handcuffed his wrist around a large pipe that went from the wall to the floor. There was no way he had any hope of escaping without a key, it seemed. One of the officers was left to keep an eye on him, but other than that, the door was closed leaving only the two of them in the room.

“You need to let me go. This ship will be underwater before morning.” Clay demanded. The cuffs gave him practically no slack so he had to rattle them to emphasize his point.

“Yeah, I’ll believe it when I see it,” the man scoffed as he relaxed back in his chair and put his feet up on the desk in front of him. Clay couldn’t help but let out a frustrated growl at the beta guard which made him flinch. It was a textbook alpha tactic, which Clay hated reverting to, but it helped him let off some of his steam, even a miniscule amount. “No reason to play that card. Doesn’t make you any less worthless to me.” And Clay couldn’t do anything to fight back without risking injury to his wrists or ticking the man off enough that he put a bullet through his head before the water could take him. Maybe that was a better fate.

But Clay simmered down before he could do anything rash like that. All he wanted to do was somehow find George to make sure he knew that it wasn’t a lie. He’d tell him that with his dying breath if he had to. Instead of giving into his aggressive urge, he settled down and retracted into his mind to think of a way out before it was too late. He was alone, and the hopes were pretty slim.

It didn’t take long for the water to find its way to them as it creeped under the door. Clay saw it appear slowly like a slithering snake, and it spread all over the floor of the room. The officer was quick to stand up and practically squeal in fear. The freeze of the water shocked him when it reached his feet and seeped into his shoes. His watcher left in a blink of the eye, leaving Clay with unavoidable dread and hopelessness in his stomach.

“Wait! You can’t just leave me here. Hey!” he shouted as the officer made a break for it. He jangled the chain connecting the two wrist cuffs to create a loud racket, but the man nor did anyone else respond. He didn’t expect the man to take pity on him, but now he truly was left alone to succumb to the water chained to a pole.

The door was now wide open, and he screamed and made as much noise as he could to gain someone’s attention. No one was coming to his rescue anytime soon, though, so he shifted his priorities to keeping himself from touching the water at all costs. He knew he needed to conserve body heat, and the water was quickly leaching it through his wet socks and toes that could quickly catch frostbite.

He didn’t have a great amount of space with his hands connected by a chain under the pipe, but his limbs were luckily long. His flexibility also helped, and he used his foot to hook against one of the legs of the desk that looked sturdy enough to hold up his weight. It was hard and a bit of a process, but the closer the desk got, the more of his body he could use to bring it close so it was practically touching the pipe. He climbed up top, but by then, the water level had risen so it covered half the desk. It was rising fast, as well, and Clay’s positivity was quickly disintegrating. He was crouched on the desk, and he waited for death or a savior to come for him. He was beginning to think the two weren’t mutually exclusive.

His chest was heaving, more so from stress than from lack of air, when he heard the sound of an angel’s call. No, no, it was George!

“Clay? Clay, are you down here?” he heard his love call out for him.

“George!” he responded as loud and clearly as he could. The chains rattled as he tried to stretch himself as far as he could towards the door. “George, I’m in here! Follow my voice,” he instructed, continuing his repetition of those or similar phrases so George constantly heard him.

He could tell that he was getting closer as he heard the accompanying noise of water splashing. When he saw George turn the corner, his heart skipped a beat, and he could tell that something had happened. His omega was also out of breath, and the water was coming up high on his thigh. For Clay, the level may reach his knee. His clothes, which flowed and rippled when dry, fell like puddles in the water around him. All of the colors were missing from his face that was usually glowing, but now it was tinged an unnatural blue and looked like it was moments away from turning to ice.

“I-it’s cold,” he said, trying to keep from chattering.

“I know,” Clay said, wishing for nothing but to take him somewhere the water couldn’t touch and wrap him up and apologize for everything that had happened. “But you need to get me out of here. I’m guessing you don’t have a key?”

George solemnly shook his head. “No, I don’t. But I have something else that might be useful.” He heard more splashing before George told him what he had. Alex appeared in the doorway with red puffy eyes and guilt written all over his face.

“Clay, oh my God. I am so sorry. He got me to plant it in his pocket. If I had known that he would have just thrown you down here, I never would have done what he asked. I’m so sorry, really, I-“ he began to ramble, but Clay cut him off before he got too engrossed in trying to seek Clay’s forgiveness. Truly, Clay knew that Alex had never intended to harm him. With his feelings towards Jay… Clay knew he would do anything for George.

“Alex, really, don’t worry about it. I know you wouldn’t have done his bidding if you knew this would happen. I don’t blame you for that fucker’s actions. You can make it up to me by helping me escape,” he said while rattling the handcuffs for effect.

“What do we need to do?” George asked.

“Uhh, is there anything we can use to break the chain? It’s strong enough to not be able to be broken by pure strength alone, but we can find something to break it,” Alex explained. Clay nodded and confirmed his affirmation to the idea. He would still have the metal rings around his wrists, but he would be very grateful to not have them connected or tethering him to a foundational pipe.

“There was a fire axe. On the wall that we saw on the way here.”

“Oh yeah! That works perfectly. I’ll go and get that, but you stay here. I think there are some things you’ll want to talk about,” Alex said before wading through the water that was now just below his hips.

“Are you okay? Here, get up on the desk to get out of the water,” Clay instructed while scooting over so there was room for the both of them. The water was barely under the lip of the desk, but he could practically see the water leaching the warmth from George’s body. The omega obliged, but he was slow and his movements were languid. When he got up out of the water, Clay reached out as far as he could and took George’s hands in his own. It was a far stretch, but George met him halfway. Like the rest of him, they were tinged blue, and he rubbed them slowly to try and share what warmth his own hands could offer. George let him as his fingers grazed along the metal cuff around his wrist.

“Even now, after what I did, you look out for me. God, I’m such a bad omega. I couldn’t do anything right with Jay, and I can’t stand up for you when I love you,” he lamented, refusing to make eye contact. Clay could tell there were tears in his eyes. His body curled up and away from him as he rubbed his ankles to try to create some warmth near his feet. “I knew you wouldn’t do something like that, but I still let myself believe that fucker. I’m so sorry. It’s because of me that we’re in this mess.”

“I think you’re giving yourself a bit too much credit. Unless you have some supernatural powers and perfectly placed the iceberg that the ship hit,” he joked with a watery smile. The situation was anything but funny, but he couldn’t help trying to alleviate some of the tension. His position was awkward as he couldn’t face George, and his back was technically to him. He could turn, though his body wouldn’t completely be on the desk, and twist uncomfortably to face him. The omega laughed softly at his attempt which made him feel better.

“But really,” he interjected to tell George what he really wanted. “You are not a perfect omega, and I don’t want you to be. Not because I don’t want a perfect omega, but because I want you. You’re so much more than your gender, and I’ve fallen in love with you. The whole you. I’ve gotten to know you, and I know it’s hard for you to let your guard down. When Jay said those lies about me, I was just afraid that you would shut me out. He told you some extreme things about me, even if they were exaggerated and some outright lies. But some things in my past… I’m not proud of. London seemed like a perfect escape and a great fresh start. Then you came in my life and screwed up all of my plans,” he said with no hint of regret. This time, both of them had a full smile on their face.

“I don’t blame you for any of his actions or any of mine, even though you make it hard for a man not to fall in love with you. George, we’ve only known each other for a few days. It is totally understandable that you don’t have complete and unyielding faith or loyalty, and I would never want you to have that towards me. But you’ll never make me regret meeting you.”

George seized forward and kissed him with a renewed passion. The both of them could almost forget the damning circumstances around them in their feverish movement, but it was the sound of splashing water that brought them back to reality. The water level had risen during their conversation, and Clay’s shoes were now wet.

“I’m here. I got the axe,” Alex announced as he came towards them. The large axe was held above his head to keep it from getting wet. The handle was wood, but it would be best to prevent a slippery axe in all capacities.

“C’mon, then!” Clay rushed, unable to push down his quickly growing worry. He had been chained to the stupid pipe for too long when he could have been above deck and making sure all of his friends got to safety. “You’re going to break it?” he asked, looking at Alex. Anxiety overcame him, realizing how close the blade would have to come to his wrists. God he hoped Alex had good aim.

He nodded, and George grasped his shoulders for some semblance of stability. He was probably shaking. “Okay, Okay, I trust you,” he said. “Just… take a practice shot on that armoire. Right there,” he said, nodding his head towards the wooden piece of furniture. Alex swung, and the axe came back out of the gaping hole it created. “Good. Now hit the same spot.” He swung again. Another hole was made instead of the axe entering the same spot. There wasn’t enough time for practice, though. If Clay was freed and a bit bloody, he’d just have to live with it.

“Great. Now come over to break the chain. Keep your eyes open and your hands steady,” he told him, reaching his hands as far away from the rest of his body as he could. George squeezed his shoulder, probably feeling the same sense of dread in his stomach. There was no going back.

He heard the sound of the chain breaking before he registered the sound of the axe swinging in the air. When he opened his eyes, his hands were separated. “You did it!” he cheered, bringing Alex in for a bone crushing hug.

“Yes, yes, I know I’m your hero, but we have bigger things to address,” he said, pushing Clay away. “The boat is sinking. Fast. And people are freaking the fuck out.”

“We need to get out of here,” Clay said, grabbing a hold of George’s hand and dropping into the freezing water. The shock hit him immediately, and he shuddered. “C’mon. We need to get above deck.”

Alex led them through the dark hallway that was completely deserted. It was desolate, freezing, and dark, and all three of them knew there was a chance they wouldn’t make it out of there. But, Clay was determined. His alpha instincts were kicking in as he thought of getting his mate out of a dangerous situation along with Alex who quickly became his friend, and him being an omega also jump started his protective alpha instincts..

The water they waded through in the bowels of the ship was bone chilling, even when it just came up to Clay’s mid thigh. He could feel his whole body taking a toll. “Up the stairs,” Alex said when he saw a sign pointing to the door of the staircase. Water was already seeping in under the door, but it fully flowed when he opened the door and covered the bottom three stairs. He shivered, feeling the cold air against his wet clothing which cling to his skin, but he pushed through as they winded their way through the levels of the ship and up onto the main deck.

Chapter Text

“Omegas and children only! Omegas and children only!” the ship’s crew repeated while pushing back all of the people surrounding the lifeboats, demanding a spot on them. Demanding to survive. A sinking feeling made Clay’s stomach feel like stone. If he couldn’t get on a boat, he couldn’t get on it. It only mattered to him that his friends make it out.

“Where have you all been? The fucking boat’s sinking,” a familiar voice spoke up behind them, spooking Clay. He turned around and saw Nick and Karl who were both considerably more pale. They looked more like ghosts.

Clay looked at the separated handcuffs on each of his wrists along with his pant legs which were still dripping wet. “It’s a long story.”

“One we don’t have time for. We need to find a way off this boat,” Alex intervened. The crowds were trying to remain calm, but there was a heavy tension created by the fact that no one truly knew what was going on that had everyone on edge.

“You three need to go.” Clay said to George, Karl, and Alex. He motioned them with a stiff hand on the small of George’s back towards a half full lifeboat.

“What about you and Nick?” Alex asked frantically. They all knew. There wasn’t a possibility of all of them getting on that boat since they were an alpha and a beta. They weren’t going to be allowed on the boats.

George watched as people rushed to and flocked to get on the boats. The one next to them was close to being let down into the water, but barely half of the seats were filled when there were plenty of other lives that could have still fit into the boat.

“There’s three omegas here. If we can scent you well enough, they’ll think you’re an omega,” he explained. Immediately, the other two omegas were on board with the plan, but the beta and alpha were hesitant. Nick looked a bit skeptical with the idea while Clay was contemplative but silent.

“What? We can’t do that,” Nick tried to say. Both Alex and Karl were quick to do their best to convince him.

“There’s no other way,” Alex said, gripping on tight to his shoulders. Seeing them so close together, their tears reflected off of each other.

“There are so many people,” he said barely above a whisper. Everyone within their little group heard it like a plea. “I don’t deserve to be on that boat.”

George snapped. He pushed Alex aside so Nick only saw him and a glare that could kill a man. “I barely know you, but I know that you're wrong. You and Clay are survivors who have only had each other to rely on your whole lives. I am not letting this dumb ship kill you. Now you listen because that boat is going to be set out to float on that water in less than a minute, whether or not it’s even full, with or without you.” A strong surge of emotion like that wasn’t typical for him, but it made him feel adrenaline and power pump through his veins.

Nick looked at him with big wide eyes. “Clay?” he asked to his best friend who still hadn’t said a word. His eyes were focused on something far off, something that made him sad.

“It’s worth a shot,” he said finally. It made George believe that maybe it would work.

Karl worked to scent Nick while George and Alex set on scenting Clay since it would be a lot harder for them to cover up the scent of an alpha. He couldn’t help the jealousy that swelled in his stomach seeing, knowing, that another omega was scenting Clay, but it was what needed to be done. He’d rather have the scent of his friend on his lover rather than have them all doomed to the water. Rather, he let himself savour the intimate moment even if it only lasted only a moment. It could be their last.

“I think it’s working,” Karl told them with hope deep in his voice. “We need another scent, help me.” Alex went over to the beta.

With no one else blocking him, George stepped so he was directly facing Clay. He was rubbing their wrists together in slow circular motions, letting his scent pour out and onto him. He nosed slightly into his neck, smelling the intermingling of his own lighter scent and Clay who smelled of a sea much nicer than the one below their feet.

He breathed in through his nose to see how his work was coming, but worried immediately when he smelled something much different than what he had hoped. Instead of his or even Alex’s scent covering up the alpha’s, their scents mixed. He didn’t smell like an omega but a mated alpha.

Tears came to his eyes, feeling the sense of dread sink in his stomach. He looked up to see Clay knew the same thing he did, probably had predicted it. His eyes were half lidded and glassy as he looked down at George and raised his hand to cup his face. George raised himself and kissed him, thinking he could forget for a moment the impending doom looming over them.

“So the scenting didn’t work,” Alex said, making them break apart. The gravity of the situation fell on them like a wet blanket. George was going to leave the boat and Clay wasn’t.

“No, there has to be another way,” George insisted, beginning to turn around to approach one of the worker. He was still a first class passenger which meant they had to do what he said. They had to.

Clay stopped him before he could run away from the group, gripping his arms tightly. His eyes stared into his as he said, “look around, George. You all need to leave.” When he did, he immediately saw what Clay was referencing. All around them, alphas were saying teary goodbyes to their omega’s and children. Some were giving empty promises that they were getting on another boat to appease their children while others only cried and enjoyed their last moments with their partner. Clay touched George’s chin and brought his eyes to his golden ones once again. “You need to go.”

With one last quick scenting from Karl, Nick was good to go, and they all made their way to one of the lifeboats. The worker permitting people on didn’t bat an eye at the four of them, too caught up in the mob that surrounded the area. Clay didn’t even try to get by him, though, knowing that he would quickly be stopped. George stayed at the edge of the boat that was quickly being filled, holding onto Clay’s hand, debating on letting go or not. Even though he had only spent a small fraction of his life with the blonde alpha, it felt like a lifetime. In the short time he knew him, already he knew that Clay changed him for the better. And now every piece of him was twisting and hurting at the thought of letting him go.

Nick, Karl, and Alex watched sadly from the other end of the boat as two shared a wordless but devastating goodbye. George reached up to feel Clay’s face in hand one last time, and he felt the heat radiating off of him, warming his palm to the touch. What would happen when the boat hit the ice cold water terrified George.

“Let’er down!” one of the crew who was still on the boat shouted. George’s stomach lurched as he felt the boat beneath his feet lurch. Workers began messing with the pulleys that kept the lifeboat suspended over water, and the boat was being lowered. All around him, screams of the terrified passengers filled the frigid night air. George watched helplessly as people jumped from the rails to try and land in the floating boats. Some were more accurate than others. There was a small part of him that hoped Clay would take the chance and jump, but he was only staring down at George from the railing with a sad smile and a wave. If he ignored his feelings of dread and despair, he could convince himself that it would all be okay. But he knew it wouldn’t be. How could he give up on Clay so easily?

Quickly, he made a decision, and he looked back at the trio who were huddling together for warmth in a solemn silence. “Alex,” he said to get the dark haired omega’s attention. They made eye contact. “Take care of them,” he said before he climbed on the edge of the boat, sending it teatering for a dreadful moment. He jumped towards the railing on the lower deck which caused all witnesses to scream, and he held onto the railing for dear life.

“George!” he heard both Clay and Alex scream. He couldn’t respond though as his legs flailed to find purchase on the side of the ship. Thankfully, some of the passengers left stranded on the boat quickly helped him up and over onto the deck.

“You’re crazy for doing that, young man,” an older alpha told him, and George could only nod. His eyes remained on the lifeboat he just jumped out of, watching his friends stare in horror. Nick came to the edge of the boat and began reaching a hand out, but George was quick to shake his head. He didn’t regret his decision.

“I need to stay with him,” he told them confidently. All Karl and Nick could do was remain wordless, but Alex nodded once. George knew that Alex understood, whait was like to love someone until the very end.

Chapter Text

Clay met him halfway in one of the abandoned hallways inside the second class cabins. Tears were running down his cheeks and his voice trembled as he said, “you’re fucking crazy.” George surged forward immediately and squeezed Clay tightly. It was grounding for a moment as realization that he very likely could have just thrown his life away in the span of five seconds washed over him. But then he saw the golden rings of Clay’s eyes, and he knew he was where he needed to be. There was nothing left for him on shore if Clay wasn’t beside him.

“I love you,” he muttered, bringing him into a quick but hot kiss.

“I love you too,” Clay returned, brushing a piece of hair that had fallen into his eyes. George found he was torn over spending his last moments fawning over Clay and dreaming of what could have been or try to fight the inevitable and find another way off the ship. Clay ended up deciding for him. “How are we going to get off of here?”

“We need to get back up to the top deck,” George told him. The hallway they were in was mostly deserted as anyone who wanted to try and get off was already on the top deck. Everyone else, well… “What way did you come?” he asked.

Clay wordlessly took his hand and began running the opposite way George came.They sprinted through the halls and their wet clothes clung even more to their bodies. There was no telling how much water had filled the decks below them. How many people didn’t wake up before they could escape? Both of them were just glad to know that their friends had gotten out safely and had each other. Now they just had to get off the sinking coffin.

The lights began to flicker meaning that the whole ship was soon about to lose electricity. Clay led them to a corridor that was empty but noisy. They followed the noise and saw a hoard of people scrambling on the staircase that had been blocked off by some staff members who ignored them on the other side.

“Please! You’re condemning us here to die!” a woman pleaded followed by a kick to the iron gate. The other third class passengers were shouting similar cries for mercy or of anger. Clay squeezed George’s hand and held on tight as he began weaving through the small but desperate group of people.

“You need to let these people up onto the upper deck. We’re sitting ducks down here” he demanded to the workers who truly didn’t seem to be enjoying what they were doing, but they still weren’t letting them go. They were jittery and anxious speaking to one another, and they wouldn’t meet the eyes of anyone on the other side of the gate, including Clay’s. They didn’t even turn towards him.

There were the sounds of frantic footsteps and another staff member in a life vest ran up to them out of breath. He was heaving and doubled over clutching his knees as he wheezed out, “boat… losing power… gonna sink.” Clay thought that was pretty obvious, but it must’ve been getting bad since the eyes of the two other crew members widened, and the three of them disappeared from sight. Clay growled at their cowardice and traced his way to the back of the group who were still rocking against the gate. They wouldn’t be able to make it fall with their bodies though.

“What are we going to do?” George asked.

He thought for a moment and examined his surroundings. The hallway was empty and the light were still flickering. The only furniture was a simple wooden bench, but then it hit Clay. He lifted one side of it to confirm it wasn’t bolted to the floor, and the idea was cementing itself in his brain. There was a group of young men near the back of the pack, and he caught their attention and told them he intended to use the bench as a battering ram. They were immediately on board, and George began yelling at the people to get out of the way. The people looked at him like he was crazy for demanding they let him through, but when they saw the group of men lifting up the bench and holding itin between them, they quickly realized and spread the word to move aside.

The men ran forward when the path was clear and rammed it into the iron gate once then twice then five times. It creaked and groaned in protest, but on the sixth heave, it caved. People immediately began climbing over it and up the stairs to the upper deck, practically swarming Clay and George as they were swept in the tide and up the stairs with their hands still interlocked.

Just up even one level, they were on the first class deck. They could tell by the light fixtures in the hallway which were still somehow kept on. That meant there was somebody in the bottom of the ship keeping the energy on the ship. George led Clay since he knew the way to the deck, but they had to go through the parlor where they had dinner with George’s family merely days ago. No one would have guessed this would have been where they ended up.

The dining area and foyer was completely abandoned. They went into another dining room and saw a familiar face, staring at the clock on the mantle of the fireplace. Wilbur Soot reached up and fixed the clock’s hand. It clicked due to the movement and chimed when he had finished.

“Mr. Soot, the boat’s sinking,” George said to catch the alpha’s attention. It was stupid in retrospect becuase Wilbur was likely the first person to have been informed what was happening, but if he knew and wasn’t trying to get off of it, then…

“We have to get out of here,” Clay said, likely coming to the same conclusion George had. Wilbur shook his head and put his hands in the pocket of his slacks.

“I’m afraid this is the end, gentlemen. There are people who are going to die because of my choices. It’d kill me if I took one of their places,” he said solemnly. He spoke sternly and with strong conviction, but his eyes were stony and cold. Clay reckoned he was looking into the eyes of a dead man.

“You couldn’t have predicted any of this would happen,” George placated calmly.

“No, but I should have prepared better for it, anyway. Now, you two get out of here while you still have time. I sincerely wish you both the best of luck,” he said with a final nod of acknowledgement. Clay nodded in understanding. He wouldn’t be convinced to leave.

He held out his hand as a sign of respect, and Wilbur shook it firmly and confidently. He then turned to George who brought him into a quick embrace before letting him go. There weren’t tears in his eyes, and he wasn’t visibly emotional, but that didn’t mean the situation wasn’t easy. Wilbur accepted his fate while Clay and George were trying to change it.

“Now, go!” he ordered. Clay took George’s hand before he could say anything else, and they ran.

They got back up on the deck, and the crowds were much thinner than before. Off in the distance, they could see the spots of lifeboats that contrasted like a candlelight in the darkness on the surface of the black water. People were jumping from the rail to the boats that were being lowered or had just hit the water. Some had better accuracy than others.

“There’s not enough boats,” Clay observed. It was horrifyingly true. Crowds were gathered around the rails. The only thing stopping them from getting onto the boats were the crew who were keeping the desperate passengers from going overboard and maybe bringing a boat down with them. A gunshot could be heard not far away, and Clay and George crouched instinctively in case the bullets were being shot at random. When he looked up, George saw the small puff of gray smoke curling in on themselves above a crew member’s head. He was brandishing the gun to keep the crowds at bay though even he could see the bewildered fear in his eyes.

Another boat crashed into the water and more people were screaming and crying around them. He noticed the small families huddled together and whispered goodbyes from alphas to omegas and pups. He couldn't help but wonder if Jay was somewhere in the mixed group still on board, or if he had weaseled his way onto a boat. If any alpha could do it, it would be Jay.

“What are we going to do?” George asked quietly. The dissonance of the chaos surrounding him almost drowned it out. Clay grimaced and shook his head.

“If we can’t get on a lifeboat, we have to stay on this boat for as long as possible while it’s still above water,” he said, and George nodded. After that, who knew?

Suddenly, there was a lurch, and the floor beneath them became unsteady. Clay was thrown off balance unexpectedly, but George was quick to wrap his arms around his torso to keep him from falling. “It’s tilting,” George said, watching as the ground began to slant upwards. “We have to get to the other end.” They made their way uphill, and soon everyone else was getting the same idea once the remaining lifeboats dropped. There was a small crowd fighting to keep their feet on the ground, and some were failing. Clay winced when he heard the multiple splashes and screams that were too close for comfort.

People were screaming and scrambling all around them as they held onto columns, rails and anything else they thought could hold them. Many were paralyzed with fear, refusing to move up towards the stern of the ship, but Clay and George kept moving.

Clay remained behind George as they inched their way to the back railing slowly, and it wouldn’t be long before the ship perpendicular to the ocean. More screams and wails were heard when the lights and power to the ship cut out making everything eerily dark. “It’s gonna split and go in the water,” George told him, looking down into the water where half of the boat was already submerged. How many poor people were already at the bottom of the sea floor?

“C’mon,” Clay said to get him to look away from the black depths. “We need to get over the rail.” If they did, there would be something under them when the ship did go completely upright. George nodded and carefully began climbing over the rail which was difficult since he was climbing over a diagonal. Clay followed ensuite as did others who had made it to the back railing and realized their logic.

He wasn’t oblivious to the terrible irony of getting over the railing with George right next to him. Then, the night they met, Clay had a sort of reckless confidence to fuel his actions. Now it felt more like an adrenaline filled desperation. He had made a vow, though wordless and not explicit, that he’d give his life for the omega after only seeing the prolonged sadness set deep behind his eyes. Now, things were different, but he knew George had to make it out of this. He had only just begun to live and had so much waiting for him in the world. Clay didn’t. He’d already said goodbye to Nick, and George would know he died loving him with all his heart. He would die without regrets.

It was only a matter of time, and there was a terrible lurch again followed by the groaning of the ship. Clay held his breath as he watched it struggle, and he could imagine all of the internal structures popping and splitting. One by one by one.

The air became quiet of the screams as people waited and listened. He held George as close to him as possible with only one arm since the other kept a death grip on the railing under him. “I love you,” George said, punctuating it with a searing kiss on Clay’s lips. Clay rest his forehead against the other man’s, and he resisted the urge to tell him everything would be okay.

“I love you too.”

There was another resonant groan, and he felt the ship fall. One half was on its way to the bottom of the ocean, and the other one, the one they were clinging onto, wasn’t far behind. He heard George’s scream along with the rest of the poor inhabitants around them. He felt a moment where he was airborne, and wondered if that was the last thing he would ever feel.

Chapter Text

The water surrounded him. His fingers went numb almost instantly, but he forced his arms to swim his body upwards. He breached the surface with a gasp, but the air that he breathed into his lungs were cold as well.

“George!” he screamed, hoping the brunette could hear it over the screams of the other people. If he made it above the surface. The morbid thought of George passing out from stress and fear on the way down so he wouldn’t be able to swim crossed his mind. No. He had to. George was a fighter. “George!” he cried out again. His breath came out as a white cloud that disappeared into the dark sky like his heat was seeping out of his body.

A gasp sounded behind him and he whipped around to see George wet’s hair sticking to his forehead, but his breath also was visible and that was all that mattered. He made the short distance over to him and hugged him for only a second before he had to go back to treading water.

“Y-you were right. It’s so cold,” George stammered out sadly. His skin was already turning blue, and Clay knew he had to act quick.

“I-I know. Hold on for me, sweetheart. Keep your eyes open,” he said through the cold that was beginning to bite at every one of his nerves. The mission to get George out of the water consumed him and gave him the energy to look around and eventually swim to the piece of driftwood that was next to them. When he got closer, he saw it was once a door. Some of it had been broken off somehow, but it was floating, and George would be safe on it until help came. That was all Clay could ensure. He pushed it over to where the omega was struggling with his neck almost completely submerged. He had to keep his face tilted up to keep his mouth from going under.

“Up,” he said, and George wordlessly obeyed as he helped him up onto the floating object. He immediately collapsed, and something settled in Clay seeing the piece of wood remain afloat. He’d be okay. It was obvious George was exhausted (he could feel it beginning to settle in his own bones as well), and he didn’t say anything as his eyes fluttered shut. Clay sighed as he clung onto the side of the board, watching the peaceful omega closely. His own eyes were becoming heavy with the cold that was overtaking every part of his body.

Then, George’s eyes shot open again, and his face was inches away from Clay's, whose hands were still gripped on the edge of the board. “What about you?” he asked worriedly.

He leaned up and kissed him softly. “Don’t worry about me. You’re safe.” That’s all that mattered to him. He imagined George would start crying and accept what he said and go on to live his life, but his face turned stony and he gripped Clay’s cold hands within his own.

“Don’t you dare give me that shit,” he said desperately with tears in his eyes. He pulled him up to show he wanted him on the board, but he was still hesitant. Already, he felt the cold encompassing him all around. It wouldn’t take much for him to go underwater and let nature take its course, but he wanted to stay these last few moments with George. “You can’t do this to me,” he pleaded with tears now running down his cheeks.

“I have to. It can’t hold both of us.”

“Bullshit,” he spat. His words were hot, and his face turned a dusty pink which would undoubtedly be a furious red if he wasn’t deprived of body heat. “You’re stupid to think I’d rather live without you than jump back in the water. Please, Clay. Try.”

His hands were shaking in George’s grip, but he nodded. It took an effort from the both of them since Clay’s muscles were weak and close to seizing up by then. George had to keep an even weight distributed on the board until Clay got his body under him. It wobbled and swayed in the ocean for a moment, and George watched carefully to make sure Clay didn’t jump back into the water, but then it became steady.

Laying on the board, floating in the middle of the ocean wasn’t a luxurious experience. There were still screams and gurgles of people of varying distances around them. Eventually, the night became quiet with only the stars overhead, and they could only assume the worst. It was haunting how silent but heavy it was after everything that had happened.

They were both lying down on the board with Clay’s he was near George’s chest. Both of George’s hands circled one of Clay’s wrist which still had the metal handcuff encircling it. It would have become colder faster than Clay’s body, and he was worried about the circulation into his hand.

George was the one who remained conscious more so than Clay. He was exhausted, but when he had realized Clay was sacrificing himself for naught, it caused him to become energized on adrenaline. Now, he was experiencing a haze, but he was more aware of their surroundings than Clay who promptly had passed out. His chest rose and dipped routinely, but it was shallow that worried George. He couldn’t even hear his shuddering breath as he tried his best to hold him close without plunging them both into the water.

It felt like he had closed his eyes for only a moment, but then he saw light. When he opened his eyes, he thought he had died and was seeing heaven like everyone had described it, but then he saw that it was lights from a ship. A floating ship that had lights searching the water likely for any survivors.

“Clay? Wake up. There’s another boat,” he said, shaking the alpha’s shoulders. His skin was still ice cold. The alpha groaned, and his eyes blinked open but only a little. George didn’t have the energy to scream for their attention, but he did his best to wave an arm so they might see them. The spotlight promptly rested on them, and the ship turned. George had never felt so relieved before. A ladder hung on the side of the large ship, and George got Clay’s attention so he could climb up. It took a lot of energy for both of them to even begin the climb up, but more so for Clay. George was under him on the rungs so he could make sure the other didn’t fall. He looked close to doing so a few times, and every time he paused to catch his breath, George’s anxiety spiked. If he fell into the water, he wasn’t sure what he would do.

But they kept climbing. It was slow going and George’s bones screamed in protest with how numb and tired they were. When they made it close to the top, Clay was heaved onto the deck by some of the crew, and he fell unceremoniously onto the floor. George was helped onto the ship, and he swayed on his feet. “Are you both okay?” a beta woman asked, keeping him steady. Another beta man was checking the pulse of Clay whose eyes were closed. He made a waving motion to someone else, and a stretcher carried by some alphas appeared. George watched as they carefully laid him on it and stood up to take him somewhere else.

“Will he be okay?” he asked the two betas who remained.

“His pulse was there, but weak. They’re taking him to a section we have closed off for unbonded alphas. I can’t say for sure, yet, but I think he will be okay. Like most people, he’s just exhausted and needs to warm up. As do you, sir,” the man explained. The woman grabbed a blanket from a small stack they had and wrapped it around his shoulders. He didn’t like the feeling of being babied, but the warmth and softness of the thick fabric was welcomed nonetheless.

“I need to be with him. He’s my alpha,” he told them. When someone said such a thing, it insinuated that they were bonded and had spent a heat together, but George and Clay had never done either. The sentiment and intention was true; he just hoped the two would have pity on him. He regretted not asking him to bite him when they slept together before the boat sank, but he wasn’t in heat.“Please,” he pleaded, feeling his instincts go haywire. Him and Clay had just been through a near-death experience side by side. Now not being right next to him nor knowing exactly what was going on scared him. He was torn between getting on his knees and baring his neck in submission while also growling and fighting his way to wherever he was.

The two shared a look before the man spoke to the woman. “Take him to the dining room. I’ll have someone sent for him when we have his alpha in another room,” he said to the woman before turning to George. “We have one room available for bonded pairs, but only one. If another bonded couple shows up needing it, I’m afraid they’ll have priority,” he explained.

George nodded in understanding. The knowledge that he would see his alpha was enough to satiate his omega for the time being. He needed to see with his own eyes that he would be okay. The man walked off towards where they had carried Clay off, and George followed the woman who led him deeper into the ship. There was another woman, an omega, sitting at a desk, and she motioned for him to sit in the chair across from her.

“Take him to the dining room. Someone will be there for him later,” the beta said to the other woman before pressing her hand against his shoulder, still covered by the blanket, in a comforting gesture and walking away.

“This won’t take long, sir. We just want to make sure we collect passenger’s information so we can contact your family and tell them that you’re safe,” she explained while messing with some of the papers. George’s anxiety flared at the sudden thought of his mother or Jay trying to find him again. He didn’t know if they even survived, but if they had, there’s no doubt they’d try to claim ownership again. Suddenly, he was extremely aware of who may have seen him alive and had already informed Jay. His gut twisted with the morbid wish that they were currently at the bottom of the ocean. “Sir?” the woman said to bring his attention back to reality.

“Oh, um, that won’t be necessary. I only have my alpha who was on board with me,” he explained. Hopefully he was convincing enough.

“Okay, can you tell me your name for our records?” she asked politely.

He held back a visible gulp as the names, “George Winters,” rolled off his tongue.

She nodded and wrote it down. “Okay Mr. Winters. Right this way.”
Having her refer to him as Mr. Winters was strange, but it was what he had signed up for. If Jay or his mother did come searching for him, their first question would be about George Davidson, but that wasn’t George. Not anymore. His first name was common enough, but taking Clay’s last name, even unofficially, felt right. It was what he would want to be one day, so why not assume it now?

He followed the other omega silently and with his head down. They walked through hallways filled with cargo boxes and heavy machinery but also displaced people. They seemed to be everywhere along with other people who were comforting them and talking to calm them down. Even now with a blanket gripped tightly around his shoulders, George could feel his nerves still vibrating on edge. His body was still recovering from the traumatic events of the ship sinking and shivering from the lingering cold and adrenaline.

“You’re handling this a lot better than the other passengers,” she said to try and strike up conversation. George only nodded wordlessly because he didn’t have the energy to respond. It felt like a daunting task just putting one foot in front of the other. Inside, he was crying and screaming because of what he had just been through, but his body just wanted to sleep in his alpha’s arms.

She led him up a level and into a large room that was filled with people in quiet conversations. George could hear the soft cries of some people, but as he looked around, he saw most people were sleeping, slumped against the walls and surfaces of the third class dining hall. He looked around and saw most people were third class passengers from the Titanic, and he didn’t see his mother or any other familiar faces at all. Good. The only thing George wanted to focus on now was making sure Clay was okay.

The other woman led him to an empty table and told him to wait for someone to come get him. She also said there would be staff coming by to get him anything he needed. He thanked her and brought the blanket higher and tighter around his shoulders. He curled in on himself to have most of his body and clothes under the blanket, because the fine silk of his night clothes he had been wearing made him stand out against the other passengers. If they were looking for him, it’d be a dead giveaway.

He wished he knew where Alex or Nick and Karl were. He wouldn’t mind seeing those familiar faces, but he wasn’t sure if their boat had been rescued. Tears gathered and fell from his eyes at the thought of something happening to them and what had happened to everyone else. The ship had sunk, and many of the passengers hadn’t made it. George was lucky he had, but he was still worried about Clay.

A different crew member did come along and give him a hot drink, but other than that, he was left to his own devices. It was eventually the same beta man from earlier who came to get George. He immediately stood up when he noticed him coming towards him. “Is he okay?” he asked before he even stopped in front of him.

“He’ll be fine. He’s stable and awake but not completely coherent. The doctor told me you can come back.”

George followed wordlessly as he was led through the ship. They went up another level into the 2nd class cabins where people were in the hallways being checked on by medical personnel or grabbing extra blankets. They had to weave through the crowds, but they made it to a door to a room purposed to be a cabin for a guest. Either someone gave their room up for the displaced passengers, or it was empty. The beta knocked on the door and waited.

George’s eyebrows furrowed at the commotion happening on the other side. The man had said he was just waking up, but he could hear a lot of noise on the other side.He looked and saw the beta either wasn’t concerned, or he couldn’t hear what was going on inside the room. It would make sense he couldn’t hear as well as George because of their designations. Alphas and omegas had more heightened senses than betas.

After a long moment, the door opened and a frazzled man in a white coat, an alpha, opened the door. “Sorry, he can’t have any visitors right now,” he tried to say, but George wasn’t paying attention to him. Over his shoulder, he saw Clay thrashing in the hold of multiple people, trying to push them off of him.

“George! Tell me where he is!” he growled, too preoccupied to notice who was at the door. He was borderline feral and acting like his territory was being threatened. So much was happening at once with Clay’s aggressiveness, the staff trying to calm him down, the doctor blocking George from running in, and the beta man trying to lead him away from the door. But, George then noticed the syringe held by a nurse behind Clay, and he panicked.

“Clay!” he called out as loud as he could over the noise, and the world seemed to stop. Everyone’s eyes were on him in an instance.

“George!” At the distraction, George nudged past the doctor and ran to his bedside to hug him. The staff looked unsure if they should allow him near, but Clay was satiated and the sedative was no longer required. “God, I woke up and you weren’t here. The last thing I remembered was the door, and they wouldn’t tell me where you were. I thought you were at the bottom of the ocean,” he gasped all in one breath as he cried on George's shoulder. George was also crying and gripping on Clay’s thin shirt for dear life.

“I know. I’m sorry they wouldn’t let me stay with you. But we’re together, and I’ll never let go.”