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Omegas Have More Fun

Summary:

Lance doesn’t think it’s fair.

Beta’s were plain. Boring. No heats, ruts, scents… nada. Alphas and omegas were basically made for each other, scents and instincts perfectly complementing each other. Betas felt more like nature’s afterthought.

Well, Lance wasn’t putting up with it anymore! He’s been flirting with Keith for years with nothing to show for it so now it was time to take drastic measures!

Or in which Lance is a beta, Keith is an alpha, there is a party and Lance makes questionable decisions because of the internet.

Notes:

Beware. Here there be typos.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

This was probably a terrible idea.

 

Perhaps the worst one Lance has had since the super glue and fuzzy dice incident.

 

He stares at the little innocent pills in hand, baby pink and small. God his sister was going to kill him if she found out he swiped these… then again she hadn’t needed or used them in like a year… so it wasn’t like she was going to miss them. Her heats had stabilized a long time ago and they were just sitting in the back of the medicine cabinet at home.

 

Might as well put them to good use right?

 

Rolling one of the tiny oblong shapes between his fingers, the beta bites his lip, leg bouncing anxiously under his desk. If Hunk walked back into their dorm right now he was going to think Lance was a druggie or something.

 

And yeah, he has to admit it does look a little suspicious but they’re for a good cause… love. That’s noble, right? …. Okay, so that was a lame excuse but it really isn’t as bad as it seems.

 

They’re omega supplements. Six of them exactly.

 

They were for omegas when their bodies were a little out of whack like Veronica’s was. Her master’s program seriously stressed her out, throwing her heats off balance.

 

As a beta Lance had no scent, no heats, no pheromones or instincts, absolutely nothing, that could possibly warrant needing these things. The plain rice cracker of dynamics.

 

Lance had seen his sister go through heats and he didn’t exactly want to go through that (it looked fucking torture honestly) but… well there was a reason he had these little pills.

 

There was a rumor floating around the internet recently. It claimed that if a beta took omega supplements they could get a scent. An omegan scent. Sweet and fertile, the kind that could draw an alpha close in desire...

 

Lance might have been watching too many trashy romance dramas.

 

It wasn’t that strong of a scent but it was enough to have heads turning and many other betas claimed they tried it and it worked. Subtle but not overpowering.

 

Of course, Lance was skeptical because, well it was the fucking internet! Enough said.

 

He did his research though. The supplements were a cocktail of omega hormones and stimulants, intended to boost their levels if their body wasn’t producing enough. There was nothing harmful in them and you could apparently even drink while taking them.

 

So, there was some basis for these claims at least.

 

Besides, Lance was getting desperate. He was a beta.

 

And Keith, that horrible, infuriatingly handsome alpha with the terrible mullet on the soccer team was only interested in omegas.

 

Lance first met Keith during freshman orientation by accidentally spilling mango smoothie on him… Not a great first impression but In Lance’s defense, he only fumbled the cup because he didn’t expect a sudden eyeful of smoking hot muscled alpha in a room of antsy freshman, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else judging by the folded arms and furrowed dark brows.

 

He was gone on him right then and there, dumb fingerless gloves and all.

 

After that, they somehow became friends, ribbing and bickering with each just as much as they joked and helped each other. 

 

They were a good team the two of them.

 

But now it was junior year and his feelings just won’t go away. He would flush when Keith put an arm around Lance’s shoulders. A horrible gapping pit would open in his stomach every time an omega flirted with the alpha, jealously bubbling his in guts. He hated it. It made him feel terrible.

 

No matter how much Lance flirted or flaunted his interest, Keith either didn’t get the message or was just… well... Lance knew most young alphas didn’t really go for betas, often preferring the mewling submission of an omega.

 

For the first time, it had Lance feeling bitter and angry about his dynamic.

 

But with this… maybe he could catch Keith’s attention? Maybe if he had a little bit of that sweet omega scent… it could give him an edge?

 

Scents and pheromones were everything in this society, right down to finding a mate. Beta’s were at a serious disadvantage in the game. This was just… evening the playing field.

 

It was Friday and there was a party tonight at Rolo’s, just off campus. Lance knew Keith would be there, along with the rest of soccer team.

 

Lance drops all but two pills into a little plastic baggie and stuffs the rest into his hoodie. This would be his best chance.

 

He regards the pills for a moment, glances at the water bottle waiting on his desk and takes a deep breath, feeling a bit like the first time he tried jumping off a diving board into the deep end in elementary school. He ended up belly flopping.

 

“No chickening out,” he declares loudly.

 

He tosses back the pills, takes a swig of water and goes to find the tightest pair of pants he owns.

 

***

 

It was recommended that two would be enough for the desired reaction and already Lance got the feeling he was turning more heads than usual. He had a big goofy smile plastered on his face, anticipation buzzing under his skin.

 

Lance waltzed right into the party, long legs wrapped in tight denim jeans riding low on his hips and crop top showing off his smooth brown stomach. That would already have several people ogling him but he felt like it was more intense than usual.

 

“Hey, Lance.” Rolo slides over, smooth as ever, and hands Lance a red solo cup. “You’re looking particularly fine tonight,” the alpha says, waggling his near nonexistent eyebrows.

 

“Why Rolo,” Lance says in mock surprise, hand to his chest. Theatre major and all that. “What would Nyma say?”

 

“Probably, ‘the more the merrier,’” Rolo laughs, hand not so subtly reaching around to loop a long arm around Lance’s bare waist. The beta just chuckles and dances his way out of Rolo’s reach. It isn’t even midnight and Rolo is already pretty sloshed. Must be some pretty strong punch tonight.

 

He takes a sip. Oh yeah, very strong.

 

“Aw come on Lancey,” Rolo huffs, drifting close again, particularly persistent. “Don’t be like that. You really are looking amazing tonight…”

 

“Sorry, Rolo,” Lance says, dodging another groping hand and heading deeper into the party. “But Lancey is on a mission tonight.”

 

Rolo huffs, clearly a putout, but an omega Lance recognizes as Ezor walks by and Rolo is immediately chasing after her long sweeping ponytail. Oh god, Zethrid was going to murder him if he laid so much as a finger on her mate. 

 

The thought was kind of amusing.

 

Lance makes his way through the crowd of college students in varying levels of drunkenness. The music is intense, vibrating up through Lance’s shoes, and colored lights flash. He loved parties like this. Loved their energy and excitement.

 

His heart is pounding to the beat and the urge to get out on the dance floor and just let loose was strong. But he was on a mission. He heads straight toward the kitchen, only stopping to refill his already empty cup.

 

Unlike Lance, Keith hated parties and avoided them if he could. Parties hosted by members of the soccer team (i.e. Rolo) he could not avoid and ended up being dragged to. However, he could never be dragged out to the dance floor though many omegas often tried to lure him out there for some bumping and grinding.

 

The only person who could was Lance himself.

 

Predictably, Keith was in the kitchen, lurking by the fridge, looking bored. His nose was wrinkled and Lance suspected his alpha nose was picking up a million different scents. Lance just hopes one of those would be his.

 

Keith suddenly looks up and sharp purple eyes meet blue and oh god his hands are shaking. The alpha is just standing there, cool and casual as can be in his leather jacket and fingerless gloves, staring right at him. Keith gives him a smile.

 

Lance takes a long gulp of punch.

 

Play it cool. Play it casual.

 

“What’s shaking, Samurai?” Lance says with a wink, leaning against the fridge. Lance gave him the nickname Samurai after he found out Keith had a collection of actual swords in his dorm room during freshman second semester. He got busted for them a week later during room checks but the name stuck.

 

Besides, Lance knew Keith still hid a fucking buck knife in his sock drawer… not that he ever looked through that. Honest.

 

“You look grumpier than usual, tonight.” Lance leans forward a little closer.

 

The alpha stares hard at Lance and does something funny with his eyebrows, like when he’s on a particularly hard math problem he can’t figure out. Then he shakes his head as if he had to dislodge a bad thought.

 

“I hate Rolo’s parties,” Keith grumps finally, glaring at his mostly full cup of punch. “The worst kind of people show up here.”

 

“Hey, I’m here now. So... this party can’t be all bad.” Lance throws in some finger guns for effect.

 

“Well,” Keith starts, glancing at Lance, poorly hidden smirk on his face. “It did just get a lot lamer anyway.”

 

“Rude!” Lance laughs, whacking Keith lightly in the shoulder. The alpha just chuckles, relaxing against the wall a little, sipping at his punch. Lance smiles. This was good. Their back and forth. Familiar and just… nice. 

 

“Speaking of lame why aren’t you out on the dance floor yet?”

 

Oh, it was on now. “Excuse you, my dance moves are amazing!” Lance puts a hand on his hip. “I’d like to see anyone else here to be able to move like I can!”

 

He does a little suggestive hip swivel to drive the point home. He sees Keith go stiff and-

 

“Nice moves, McClain!” Rolo laughs, coming up from behind, slinging an arm over his neck. He has a split lip (Zethrid probably) and Lance hides a snort in his cup. “Maybe you can show me those sometime!” His voice is full of suggestion and Lance picks his arm off his shoulders.

 

“You wish!” Lance shouts and tries to shoo the alpha away. He’s kind of busy.

 

Thankfully, Rolo quickly leaves and Lance turns back to Keith. Now he won’t get… 

 

Oh.

 

Keith has crushed his solo cup, plastic clenched in his gloved fists and punch dripping all over the floor. His face is stiff, jaw tight but his expression is hard to figure out. He’s glaring over Lance’s shoulder where Rolo just was and Lance swears he hears a faint rumbling growl.

 

“You alright?” Lance asks in concern. “Can I get you another drink?”

 

Keith drops the crunched plastic. “No. I’m fine,” he says, voice clipped.

 

Lance feels a little flutter of nerves at Keith sudden mood shift. Maybe this wasn’t the best time after all. Keith was always uncomfortable at parties.

 

“I’m gonna go get some air,” Keith mutters, peeling away from the wall.

 

“Oh, I can go with-“

 

“No!” Lance flinches at the growl in his tone. He has the urge to tilt his head back in submission. “Don’t worry about it,” Keith says softer. “Just… Have fun.”

 

Then he’s gone, disappearing out the back door, leaving Lance in the corner.

 

It feels like a rejection, even though Lance hasn’t even really offered anything to reject yet. There was no reaction to the omega supplements and he’s somehow even managed to piss Keith off. Or rather Rolo more likely but being just left here…

 

Regardless, it leaves Lance with a sour taste in his mouth, a pained knot forming in his stomach as his good mood and excitement leaves with Keith. He takes a swig of his punch, fighting the prickling tears in his eyes.

 

Normally, he wouldn’t cry over something like this. He’s made of stronger stuff than that. But for some reason, he’s feeling particularly emotional and he has the strange urge to find a dark corner and just wrap himself in enough blankets to hide his shame.

 

What went wrong? Maybe they didn’t work like he thought? Was he imagining the looks he was getting earlier?

 

He digs his hand in his pocket and unearths the little bag of pills, glaring at them accusingly.

 

Another sip of punch goes down his throat.

 

Dumb. Dumb. Stupid. Lance.

  

Of course, it didn’t work. He took bogus advice from the freaking internet, stole his sister’s supplements and thought he could get Keith’s attention just by smelling nice.

 

He chugs the cup.

 

Well… he thinks hazily, desperate, rational and possibly tipsy in the worst possible combination. Maybe two wasn’t enough? There were a lot of scents going around here right now (even if Lance couldn’t really smell them as well) so maybe it was harder to scent him?  

 

It seems reasonable to Lance right now.

 

He looks at the pills. Just one more. One more and maybe that would be enough.

 

Lance stuffs the bag back in his pocket, washes it down with the last of his punch.

 

But any motivation to find Keith and try again is gone and he isn’t even sure why he took another pill. He stares into his cup. It’s empty. He should get some more.

 

As the beta pushes his way through the jostling and moving crowd he suddenly feels a sharp bolt of panic in his chest. The press of bodies feels like too much, the hands and arms brushing him both nice and too much. Too hot. Everything is burning, like the swill he’s been drinking.

 

He hurries it up, changing direction to get to the backyard for some air when a hand clamps down on his wrist.

 

Lance feels a shudder go up his spine as a chest presses against his back and he isn’t in enough control of himself to know if it’s a good or bad shudder.

 

“What’s your hurry?” A deep voice whispers in his ear, smoother than silk. Lance can feel a rumbling purr coming from the big chest he’s held against. He tries to pull away but the arm around his waist (since when?) is like iron. Alpha strength.

 

“I need to… get some air,” Lance gasps, wondering if maybe someone drugged his drink. Some sassy voice in the back of his head comments that he was the one taking pills like a dumbass.

 

“Don’t worry… I’ve got you, little one.” Lance finally recognizes the voice as Lotor, the snake-like rich boy in his philosophy class.

 

Lotor presses closer, a very large hardness rubbing at Lance’s ass and oh god the idea of that happening is oddly appealing.

 

In fact, Lance’s body is screaming for it begging for some kind of relief that only an alpha knot can provide. It’s unfamiliar and bizarre that he is suddenly hard, little prickles of heat and pleasure going through him.

 

“How about we go upstairs instead?” The alpha suggests.

 

One part of his brain is screaming ‘yes fine just fuck me!’ while the other part is saying ‘no this is 100% wrong!’ while yet another part is still whimpering for Keith.

 

He struggles, trying to get away when suddenly Lotor is just gone with an ear-shattering roar and the crack of bone and cartilage. Lance just drops, face planting into yet another chest. This one is covered in leather.

 

A sudden rush of clarity has him clinging to it.

 

Keith.

 

The alpha is giving a deep feral growl that Lance hears clearly even over the pounding music. There is more growling behind him but Lance presses further into Keith and those familiar arms are wrapping around Lance, holding him close.

 

Lance can feel eyes all over them, staring and he feels uncomfortable again which is weird because Lance loved having attention on him.

 

He makes a soft little sound, a whimpering little thing he didn’t even know he could do. Keith tenses, bares his teeth at someone (Lotor maybe?) and Lance is dragged away.

 

***

 

Night air greets his hot skin and Lance almost gasps in relief at the coolness of it. His entire body is on fire.

 

“Lance. Lance. Lance!” There is a gloved hand rubbing his back, firm and strong. It feels nice. Keith is nice.

 

He wiggles closer to Keith searching for something from the alpha. He feels achingly empty so maybe he’s looking for a knot up his ass but another part of him just kind of wants to curl up and cuddle.

 

It’s incredibly confusing.

 

“Keith, I think I’m dying,” Lance gasps, pressing his face against Keith’s chest. The party sounds far away and somehow they’re on the grass, Lance sitting between Keith’s spread legs. At some point, he had also draped Lance in his leather jacket. It helps ground him, the dozens of unfamiliar instincts and urges settling somewhat.

 

“You’re not dying,” Keith huffs but pauses. “Uh… at least I don’t think so. But something is definitely wrong. You…” Keith clears his throat from the gravelly tone it’s taken. “… You smell like you’re in heat.”

 

Lance blinks, looking up at Keith, chin resting on his chest.

 

“But… I’m... a beta,” he says slowly, a heated shudder going down his spine. His hips twitch, the urge to grind on something almost too much.

 

“I know.” Keith growls. “But you smell like an omega. That’s why I said something is wrong.”

 

Whatever was in that punch did an excellent job of dulling any kind of higher brain function because it takes Lance too long to make the obvious connection. Or maybe his beta brain just can't comprehend what's happening yet.

 

“Oh. Oh shit,” he swears, a moment of awareness coming through the heat and haze in his brain as he fumbles to pull the pills from his pocket.

 

The bag is empty.

 

“Ooooooohhh my god,” he groans, slumping against Keith. Most of the betas that tried this also recommended to never take any more than three. More than that could often cause some… uh… difficult side effects. Lance took twice that.

 

“What was in there?” Keith demands, looking down at Lance. “Lance, I swear to god if you’re doing drugs…”

 

“What? No, you dumbass! They were omega supplements!” As if that were any better.

 

Keith blinks down at Lance, mouth open in shock before closing it.

 

“Shit,” Keith mutters, brows furrowed. “That’s why you smelled weird earlier. Why Rolo and Lotor were… god, I couldn’t figure it out and it was driving me insane!”

 

Purple eyes go heated, bright with anger, and Lance should feel ashamed or embarrassed but those eyes are doing terrible, terrible things to his libido. If he wasn’t already completely hard he would be now.

 

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Keith snarls. “Beta’s can’t-“

 

“I know what beta can’t do thanks!” Lance snaps back, knowing what Keith is about to say. “You don’t have to tell me!”

 

Now he feels ashamed, face hot with embarrassment and what he now recognizes as a supplement induced false heat. He knew those could happen to omegas if they took too many but betas? This wasn't on his research.

 

“I just…” Lance whimpers and keens as a sudden rush of heat has him arching in pained pleasure. Keith’s arms are immediately around Lance pulling him flush against him. There is a rumbling purr in his chest that soothes something in Lance. He licks his dry lips and tries again. “I have no scent. So I thought..." He sighs. "I just wanted you to like me.”

 

Shit, he just confessed. He sounds pathetic, reduced to this mewling mess, legs twitching and shaking with overstimulation, dick hard and still grinding on nothing.

 

Keith goes rigid, his eyes wide in surprise as he stares down at Lance.

 

“You… wait do you like me?”

 

Lance’s mouth falls open. The beta blinks and he forces himself to focus because what the fuck Keith?

 

“I’ve flirted with you every day since orientation!” He shouts (more of a croak really). “Of course, I do! I like you… you dumb alpha!”

 

Keith’s face goes red, right up to the tips of his ears barely hidden by black messy hair. His eyebrows have disappeared behind his bangs.

 

“You… hang on,” Keith says, in complete disbelief. “But you're like that with everyone right? You’re friendly! That’s just how you are!” He sounds like he's trying to convince himself of that. He runs a hand through his hair, muttering to himself. “Shit, this whole time you’ve liked me back?”

 

For a moment, all Lance can hear is the chirp of crickets, the pounding in his ears and his ragged breathing.

 

“Back?” Lance whispers in awe, hope rising in his chest. Keith blinks owlishly.

 

“Well… yeah.” Keith looks down at Lance, and the beta leans back into the big hand cradling his head with a sigh, Keith’s fingers threading through the brown hair at his nape. “I just… I didn’t know how to court a beta and there was no way for me to scent if you were interested… so I just… Lance, you’re amazing. You’re funny, you’re sweet, you're pretty much the only person that can get me out of my shell…” His face goes soft, thumb caressing Lance's cheek. “And those big blue eyes… How can I not love you?” 

 

Holy shit. Holy shit, Lance wants to cry and he is 100% certain it’s not just the omega hormones in him. That was the kind of declaration Lance dreamed of. The kind he didn’t think he’d ever get to hear from Keith. Or anyone really. Beta's didn't get heartfelt confessions like that. 

 

“Even though I’m a beta?” He asks, sniffling.

 

“Oh. Oh, Lance, shit, is that why you…” Keith looks distraught, and he’s dragging Lance up, face buried in the beta’s smooth unmarked neck. “Yes, even though you’re a beta. You could be an alpha and I’d probably still love you.”

 

Lance laughs wetly into Keith’s shoulder and though these supplements can’t do anything for his shit beta sense of smell he swears he can get a whiff of the fiery woodsy alpha scent that was Keith. Warm, powerful and perfect.

 

“This isn’t just because I smell like alpha bait right now?” Lance asks warily, glancing up at Keith through his lashes.

 

“Fuck no,” Keith growls, clearly not liking that suggestion or the phrasing. "You have no idea how many times I've come close to just claiming you for myself this year alone."

 

 “So… if I told you that was totally okay and I wanted to kiss you?”

 

Keith’s eyes go dark, pupils blown wide and a pleased growl starts in his chest and… ugh even without these sex kitten hormones Lance would be baring his neck right now.

 

“I… would like that.”

 

Their lips touch and the god damn omega hormones go haywire, Lance whimpering into the kiss as the heat in his stomach flares into an inferno. Keith immediately takes the opportunity to deepen it, teeth nipping at caramel lips. Lance groans as a gloved hand slips under the jacket and slides down the curve of his spine, passing the crop top and settling on his bare lower back, rubbing soft circles into his skin.

 

Lance is absolutely lost to the pleasure leaning into the kiss, the touch, everything. Everything is just Keith.

 

It's too much, yet not enough at all.

 

“More…” he keens into Keith’s mouth. “Moremoremore please alpha…”

 

His hands drift down, palming at the hard bulge in the alpha’s pants, the size of it promising to fill and satisfy the aching emptiness in him.

 

Keith hisses, grip on Lance’s hair tightening.

 

“H-hang on,” Keith says, pulling away. Lance whines at the loss and Keith nearly leans back into it but catches himself. “As much as I’d love to keep going we need to take care of you.”

 

“You already are,” Lance sighs, happily following the weird urge to put his face in Keith’s neck. He gives a nip at the pale skin there and Keith’s breath hitches as Lance fumbles blindly at his zipper.

 

He’s so happy, so content to be in Keith’s arms. This raging desire demands to be satisfied and he shifts at the uncomfortable wetness… wait... hang on. He blinks at the foreign damp feeling on his backside and pulls back.

 

“Oh my god, I think I’m…” He flushes at the sticky feeling on his ass and the jeans now plastered to the inside of his thighs. “I think there’s… slick.”

 

“God…” Keith groans and suddenly, Lance is being manhandled, weird omega hormones taking a lot of pleasure in that, and then Keith is standing, beta wrapped in his jacket and cradled in his arms. “At this rate, you’re only going to get worse. I’m taking you to get looked at.”

 

That is the last thing Lance wants to hear in his current state and he makes a displeased sound. His asshole is wet and clenching (how do omegas deal with this?!) and everything is screaming that all of this could be solved if Keith just shoved that fat alpha dick up his hole.

 

Keith stops and growls, teeth grinding. Oh. Did he say that out loud?

 

“Not now,” Keith grits out, like its taking all his power to not do what Lance asks. "Not when you're like this."

 

But Lance wants it now and he mewls, arching in the alpha's hold. Keith’s grip tightens but he marches on, shouldering his way through the backyard gate and bypassing several gaping partygoers. 

 

"We’ll continue this later…” Keith whispers into Lance’s ear. “Promise. I'll take care of you, my beta.” 

 

That emphasis on beta has Lance shuddering in delight and he nods, relaxing against the alpha.

 

Later, he will be glad that Keith didn't give in to his alpha and take Lance right on the grass in Rolo's backyard. Later, the entire campus (and Lance) will know how Keith Kogane broke pretty boy Lotor's nose over a beta. Later, Lance will call his sister and apologize for swiping her supplements and be yelled at for doing something so stupid by at least five different people. He'll be totally ashamed for taking those pills. As he should be.

 

But right now, cradled and protected in Keith's arms, suffering through a heat his body wasn't made for he can't help but be so utterly happy at how his terrible idea ended up turning out.

 

He's actually looking forward to later.

Notes:

I don't know if motivation and inspiration for this kind of stuff just hit me in October only or what but I'm back on my bullshit.

Let me know if I need to add a tag or bump up the rating. No sex actually happens so I figured this was fine.