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John had it coming. He was aware of that. So, now that he actually finds himself in this shitty fucking situation, it’d be best to ride the wave and get it over with. Right?
Waking up was the worst, especially after starting on a new brand. His body disagreed with him for days before settling down and that meant that it became everyone else’s problem as well. There would be no amount of benefits, incentives or statutory support that would convince John not to change his secondary sex if he had the chance. If only.
Instead, he’s gripping the sides of the sink, eyes fixed on the drain and waiting for his vision to stop swimming. Weird, it’s not one of the usual symptoms but the poisons they put in these medications are between the pharmas and God alone.
John remembers when he started on the pill. Had literally just joined the high school wrestling team when they told him to take the suppressants before he got his first heat. It’s easier like this. That’s what they told him, so he did. And he guesses it was easier. Can’t mourn a heat if you never experience it in the first place.
Many other Omegas shared their experiences, before and after the pill. For some, it turned the world into the dullest emotional greyscale, other sung its praises with the fervour of liberated thralls. If John was completely honest with himself, he couldn’t for the life of him remember who he was before the pill. He was 15 at the time and now.. well, now he’s much older. Much more stressed and much more bothered by the fact that nobody else seems to be bothered.
It’s strange in a way, like breathing a sigh of quiet relief, when no one in the Watchtower seemed to care he was an Omega. He’d been used to being in conversations that went more or less like this: “- Captain Walker... your folder says Omega? -Yessir. -...are you... - Medicated. Sir. - Ah. Very well then.” All his achievements overshadowed by one Greek letter on his file, prejudicing against the integrity of his efforts, the cold sweat he woke up in some nights, afraid of his brothers-in-arms’ hazing, the blood left on the gym floor, the tears he shed hidden pathetically in the toilet where no one could intrude, the tension permanently etched in his body by planting himself in the middle of river upstream.
“Hey, Walker!” a loud knock jumpscared him out of his thoughts. “What?” he answered briskly. “Any chance of breakfast today? Bob already thinks you hate him.” Ava’s voice was brisk and straight to the point as always. He pushed away from the sink and grabbed the first sweater that smelt not disgusting. As he opened the door, Ava seemed to stutter for a moment at the sight, but luckily enough for John, she decided to ignore it and opted to throw jabs at him that would land a Secondary Sex Awareness course to anybody who wasn’t an Omega too.
“So, what’s with the sweater, there’s like 70 degrees in here.” John’s steps didn’t falter but the notion unnerved him somehow. He didn’t feel feverish at all, so why was he cold enough to warrant an extra layer? Must be another side effect of the new prescription, probably. Better concentrate on breakfast before he got himself worked up, he’ll deal later with the consequences. “I don’t know, I was just a bit cold, is that a crime?” “It is with 70 degrees.” “Arrest me, officer.” he countered. “Ooh, bitchy. I see why Olivia left you. Never a good idea to have competition inside the house.” “Oh, please, shut up.” It irked John more than usual, but he couldn’t let himself slip. He was better than this. He had to be. Everyone was there already, on the edge of their stools and discussing the possible cataclysm that might have prevented John from delivering breakfast on time when he entered. They were all looking at him weirdly, as if the answer to their unspoken question was written on his face. They were all trying to scent the air but the subtlety of it rattled John. The unfamiliarity of such courtesy made his hair stand on end and he folds into the sweater, breathing in to calm himself. He wouldn’t know what it was exactly, no orange blossoms under a full moon or burnt cigar embers or the smell of the earth after a monsoon bullshit. It was a soft, warm scent, and John felt the need to cocoon himself in it like a blanket and at the same time gently rock himself against it for release.
John needed a moment, alright? Stressed did not even begin to describe what he was going through, the divorce, the bad PR, the nightmares, the meds, the guilt, the breakfast, these weird new symptoms.. He inhaled deeply, forgetting where and who he was with, letting the scent into his body to root him in the present. He begun to feel warmer now, finally his body adjusted to the meds and his eyes reopened softly, a feverish glimmer weighing on his eyelids.
“Walker?” “Hm?” John blinked slowly, suddenly feeling gelatinous and unanchored. He needed to go back to his room, gather everything in the center of his bed and make it comfort- Fuck. Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck shit fuck!
“Walker. Listen to me. We’ll get you back to your room, alright?” That was Bucky, always the level- headed one of the group. Trustworthy. Follow Bucky. John nodded sluggishly, but whined as Bucky shepherded him out of the kitchen. “I don’t wanna go...” he complained as voices in the background directed for water! Get all the water from the fridge... and someone stay back to make protein shakes. No Cheez-Its, Alexei, that’s trash not nutrition. Move, everyone, we’re gonna lose him soon. A cold hand lightly slapped his cheek “Walker, can you hear me? Do you want an Alpha for your heat?” Heat? He’s not in heat, it’s the meds. “What meds, what did you take?” The words stuck thickly together and John just wanted to go back to his nest and be taken care of by his Alpha, why were they making him wait, where’s his Alpha?
John cried out sharply, a hand extended impulsively towards a scent. Familiar, safe, warm, close.
He woke up in his room, snug and happy to be surrounded so completely by his own scent and then he heard it. Steps, dangerously in his proximity. He shot upright, alert and ready to fight whomever the fuck it was intruding in his safe space. “Woah, hey! It’s me, it’s me!” “Bobby!?” Outrage broke on his face. “What are you doing h-” A sudden piercing pain swallowed his next words. Bob stood there at a reasonable distance, hands in a placating gesture to seem less threatening. Nonsense, this is Bob we’re talking about. “I’ll explain everything, alright? No need to get violent.” And so he did.
He told John that he had collapsed in the kitchen, that Bob had carried him here and whipped up a temporary nest while he was conked out. “Why you?” “Well, Bucky is an Omega, Yelena said she’d never fuck you, Ava just said ‘nope’ and zapped out, and Alexei-” “Alright, alright I got it! I got it!” Bob closed his mouth, weight shifting nervously from one foot to the other. “Also, that’s my sweater you’re wearing...” He added, glancing awkwardly at John’s predicament. Flushed red but finally lucid, a heat decades overdue threatening to break the dam and an Alpha in his nest. John groaned, until another stab of pain pierced his muscles. Bob was immediately at his side with warm hands and a tender touch, guiding him to lay down. “Should I- I can go if you want- I mean, I understand if it was a mistake.. the hormones, y’know?” Bob made a contrite face and moved his hands aimlessly. If anxious babbling were an Olympic sport, Bob would certainly be the All-Time Champion, John thought.
John narrowed his eyes. “Is that so?” Bob felt the change in tone like electricity on his skin “Huh?” “I’m not-” John cut himself off “I don’t need saving. I can take care of myself like I have always done.” “I know.” Bob said as a matter of fact. “I just wanted to say.. and it’s completely fine if you don’t, but if you do need help I-” he was wringing the hem of the shirt, failing to look imposing and grounded as an Alpha in this kind of situation was supposed to be. John was mad because of it. He was mad that Bob’s every action defied his expectations, he was mad that it intrigued him, he was mad that Bob was able to get to him like this. He crowded Bob against the opposite wall, a finger jabbed against his chest, blue eyes darkening into a thunderstorm “Do you think you’re up for the task, Bobby? You think you can handle this?” He inquired animatedly, Bob’s expression bewildered “Walker, it’s not like that. You got it all wrong-” “Did I now?” He was outraged at the audacity Bob was showing. What, was it not enough for him to be in such a shameful position? And to add insult to injury they sent Bob, the person who could least take care of himself, who spiraled into an omnipotent being capable of planetary annihilation if he got too sad or too hype. You must be joking.
“Walker-” Bob attempted to interject “Don’t even try to talk your way out of this. I have had it with you and your jokes at my expense-” “Walker, I-” “-I am sick and tired of pretending. You’d think taking the serum would take away the pain, but everything hurts because of this goddamn Omega bullshit.” “John!” “What!” “You, uhm-kinda touched my-yeah..”
John only just realized. In his impromptu tirade, he’d pushed against Bob so closely they were essentially pressed together from the chest down, hips aligned as John had one leg in between Bob’s slightly bent knees. Bob was right. He could smell it again, the same scent as before and suddenly, another surge of unnamed emotion possessed his body.
John snarled and grabbed Bob’s face with one hand, cheeks squished in his forceful grip. “You’re either leaving here with a black eye or a hickey. Which will it be?” Before John could process it in his mind, the thought materialized in the narrow space between their bodies. The temperature in the room somersaulted. John could not afford for Bob to refuse and walk away from this scot-free. He needed to prove it to himself he was still worth it. So he was either going to get this man, this Alpha, in his bed or rain down on him with all the fury of a scorned Omega.
The flash of gold in Bob’s eyes told John everything before he had the chance to answer. Next thing he knew, his own back was against the wall, Bob’s body pressed painfully close. “Will you regret it later?” John squirmed, cursing himself as the friction sent delicious sparks to his horny brain. “I am in heat, Bobby, not incapacitated. Now get on with it, before I decide to give you that black eye and call an Alpha with more resolve.” Golden sparked again, and Bob’s hand flew to John’s throat. “Asshole.”
“Answer me.” John whimpered. He felt weak, and tense like a guitar string, on the verge of snapping. Or maybe he already snapped. Where was up and where was down? It didn’t really matter. He needed, craved the ground under him, there were no hands on him except for the cock in him, still as water. John could feel a shameful desperation mounting inside, a wave of tears pushing behind his eyes, he wouldn’t be able to stop at only one.
A firm hand startled him out of his bleakness. It massaged his neck, the presence both coaxing and reassuring. The gesture carried a quiet, patient heat that settled his wracked nerves back in place. “Johnny, doll.. did you hear my question?” John nodded sloppily, limbs like jelly and heavier than concrete. “Then..” Bob plunged deep inside, hips flush to John’s ass “-give me an answer.” Had it been hours, maybe days, since Bob had begun fucking him? His skin felt like an exposed nerve, no electricity left in his brain to form a coherent thought. “Sor- sorry, I’m sorry.” he tried. “Please, I want-” a hiccup tore through his ribcage. It felt wrong. On his tongue, behind his teeth, beneath Bob’s hand on his throat. To want something for himself. He was undeserving of it, he had done absolutely nothing except lashing out at Bob. He hated how he could appear so calm. John’s life, comparably, was just fine, so why why why was Bob so calm and he was in shambles? Unfair, that’s what it was. “How’s that unfair, doll?” Bob asked with another hard thrust, good, very good, but not the mind- numbing fuck John needed right now. “Just move... I’m begging you.” “And you look very pretty doing so, believe me, I’m having a hard time too. But you gotta answer me first. Who else were you going to call?” Bob then sat back on his heels, hands combing his sweaty locks out of his eyes, body flexing and shiny from the exertion of the last hours “Nobody, nobody I swear!” John moaned at the shallow motions, mourning the touches withheld “I wanted to rile you up, I wasn’t gonna call nobody, I swear! Now, ple- please...” and the dam finally broke. His tears flowed freely, the cathartic peak of a life under the radar. Bob’s body covered his like a weighted blanket, cock so deep and skin so warm. “That’s right. We don’t share.”
His whispers then morphed into a fog of sweet nothings, as unrelenting as his hand rubbing John’s front and his cock reaching deep and fast inside of him. “I’ll make you come on my knot, doll. And then I’ll fold you in half and eat you out until you come on my tongue.” John shuddered at the words, his moans wet like the sounds of hips clapping together. Bob nipped the lobe of his ear, and left open-mouthed kisses on John’s neck. John was close, his breaths short and laboured, he needed just one last push. “I won’t let you leave until all I hear is you begging me, wanting me, mourning me all night.”
John came, his body jolting as goosebumps erupted all over and his vision turned to white. Above him, Bob moaned at the tightness around his cock, a stuttered sound of worship as he drew John’s orgasm out. His knot filled completely just when John thought pain might be settling in, warm and solid against his walls. “Oh Johnny, you are so good to me...” Was the last thing John heard before he blacked out.
John decided that, if he ever had a choice, he would always want to wake up like this. He was on his back now, gentle hands caressing his sides as something wet and scorching hot licked between his legs. He wiggled about for a second before opening his eyes. The vision that greeted him was Bob, hair messy and slick with sweat, a slight furrow in his brow, eyes closed and lost in concentration. The guttural moans of appreciation reverberated through John’s body, straight into his spine. He was definitely awake now. “Bob?” he said, not a real question.
Bob looked up at him, eyes dark like the bottom of a well, and sucked a hickey on John’s inner thigh, the flesh soft and pliant under his teeth. John moaned languidly and threw his head back onto the bed. Just as soon as he had done that, Bob grabbed a hold of his hips, lifting them upright and bending John’s knees to his chest.
John had no idea if this was either Heaven or Hell. “Relax, doll. I’m just making good my word.” Yeah, no, that did not help John at all. The memory of what had happened before slammed into him like a punch on his chest. “Oh my god...” “Is that where we’re at now?” Before John could muster some quick-witted retort, Bob dived back into it, sucking and licking and swirling until all sound left his mind. Only the wet, obscene slurping of Bob’s tongue penetrated the haze of pleasure.
He came again, folded like a fucking origami, with his own come on his face, mixing with the sweat pooled at his collarbones. His chest rose and fell laboriously, mouth agape. Bob’s lips found his and he reciprocated without a second thought. The languid movements continued for a minute, John’s body still hot. Bob broke the kiss, planting a couple more pecks on his cheeks and jawline. “Let me be inside you?” As John’s brow scrunched in confusion, he added “we don’t need to do anything, I just want to be inside.” “Oh, alright.” John hiked his legs, which felt heavier than normal but at least they were not trembling, providing Bob access to his core once again. He was slick and loose, but the head of his cock still caught slightly at his entrance.
Bob sighed in something close to relief, wasting no time in devouring John with his kisses.
Sleep came easy after that.
Click.
John shot immediately upright, super soldier senses pumped to a hundred and ten. He looked around the room, spotting Bob by the door with soft sweatpants and a paper bag in his arms. “Hey, you’re awake.” he closed the distance and left a kiss on John’s temple. “Tell me there’s tylenol in there.” Bob chuckled and set the bag on the bed, emptying its content one by one. Protein bars, flavoured water with electrolytes, a fruit salad, two cheese bagels and a book. He went to snatch one the bagels but Bob handed him a bottle of water first. “Take a sip first, otherwise you’ll regret the bagel.” “How would you know?” Great, he was back to his prickly self. Bob’s gaze flickered anxiously, as if debating how to answer. He sighed deeply and then went “I used to help out some older Omegas during their heats when I was younger.” when I was an addict he left unsaid. John already knew, there was no need to reiterate. John hummed uninterested. “Good for me, then.” Bob perked up minutely, a small crinkle in his eyes. “Yes. Yes, good.”
The silence fell comfortably between the two, interrupted only by John’s busy munching and the occasional turning of pages.
“They what-?” “I’m just telling you what I know: the active ingredient came from a faulty batch, so your suppressants acted like a palliative. That’s why you didn’t realize, your symptoms were all scrambled up. John rubbed his face, exasperated. His meds were a dud. “Oh, fuck me.” he exclaimed. From his beanie on the corner, Bob emerged from his book, wide-eyed and perked up. “Hm?”
John groaned loudly. He had it coming.