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Your nose picks up a faint and lovely scent. It has your attention, and you're drawn to it by instinct and biology, but ultimately the choice to get closer is yours. A skeleton monster with dull bones is reading from a book. Their baggy clothes add to their charm. You're not typically the type to start a social interaction with strangers, but you feel drawn to them.
You set your books down. They notice and look up. "Sorry. Can I sit here?" There's a lollipop in between their fangs. It wiggles to the side.
They shift, spreading their arms unconsciously. You get a stronger whiff of their scent. It feels distinctly Omega. Regardless, you want to bask in it longer. Call it the Alpha in you. A lone Omega monster in this city? It could be dangerous, especially the looks some of the other humans in here were giving the Omega. Yeah no.
"Sure," they husk in a raspy voice. You'd call it a smoker voice if they were human. Do skeleton monsters have lungs? You don't know.
"Thanks. I saw the looks you were getting. There's been a spike of human on monster violence, too. You got a safe way home?"
The lollipop twitches, and their eyelights flicker to your chest, then up to your face. You smile. If they turn you away then you'd accept it with grace. Monsters have been through the wringer. You know what that's like. You'd just experienced a different brand of shitty situations.
"Yeah. I know a shortcut."
You frown. He's going to walk? "You sure? I could like, pay for an uber or something. Don't look, but one of those guys back there by the window got out of jail recently. For assault."
Your instincts are screaming to make sure this monster gets home safe, and the rest of you agrees. Speciest behavior makes you rage. You rarely take on the 'aggressive alpha' role, but that's a quick way to get you there.
"No shit?" He says.
"All facts no printer," you quip. Sure, there are books you could be reading, but this conversation is stroking an itch you didn't know you had. You can always check them out to read at home.
"Thanks for the tip," they say. The silence stretches for a moment. "Call me Cash. He/him."
"No prob. People like that piss me off," you say and follow up with your name and pronouns.
"Heh. Ought to call you my guardian for havin' my back like that. Had some... interesting experiences with douches before." You refrain from saying that you can tell. It's in his weary body language, post-op patch, and the way he looks around. It doesn't take a genius to know why he's parked in the corner and has his back to the wall. It's all tactical.
"Ugh. Fuckin' assholes. There aren't enough apologies in the world."
"Heh. Yeah. You seem alright, though." You have a feeling he's winking under that patch.
"Well, thanks. You don't seem so bad either," you eye the book on the table in front of him. You recognize it from a class you took last semester. "College?" You ask.
Cash taps his sharp phalanges idly. They clack against the harsh texture of the table. "Yeah. For my accreditation. My bro would kick my ass if I didn't try for it."
You chuckle, "he sounds like a character. I had to use that one last semester."
"You in college?" His accent slips through. You can't place it. Maybe from underground?
"Yeah, the one in town," you say.
"Same. Thank fuck this class is almost over. 'm gettin' sick of waking up before noon."
That makes you cackle. The dude at the window (the one you recognize from his release. It was on the news,) eyes you with ire. You don't feed into it and look at Cash instead.
"Ugh, I agree. I'm better suited for afternoon classes. Mornings suck ass."
"And tittes," Cash adds impishly. You laugh again. This guy is a riot and clearly not afraid to let himself show through.
"Hey, let me show you some pointers. Exams are soon, yeah?"
Cash flips the book over and scoots towards you. "Go ham."
It turns out that once Cash decides you're not an asshole (or about to attack him,) he's a fantastic conversationalist. as time passes, he makes more and more jokes. He's witty, and you can tell he applies himself to his work as best he can. Once you give him a few hints on what to study and focus on, the two of you chat, but quietly, since the librarian came back from lunch.
"Hey uh, would it be weird if I gave you my digits," he wiggles his fingers at you, obviously referencing his anatomy.
"Yeah," you say. His expression drops. "Give me your number instead," you smirk. Cash's mood switch is immediate. The window asshole glares harder at the two of you when you break out into giggles. The librarian seems a bit put off too.
"Before that, do you maybe wanna check out and hang somewhere else or something? The librarian looks like she's about to pull her hair out."
Cash snickers and collects his things. You gather your own. "Yeah, should be gettin' home 'nyways. My bro is stressed like a mother when'm late. He's the coolest."
"He sounds like it. Least he cares, right?" Cash nods and strokes the collar around his neck, half-hidden by his hoodie and shirt.
"Yeah. he does."
Well, that was tense. You break the air by comically pushing in your chair. Cash lazily slides his chair with his foot. The librarian seems relieved when you check out and leave. You and Cash step around the entrance to swap numbers. You're just pressing the save button when the window asshole steps out, head whipping back and forth.
Window asshole doesn't have a book, not even a rented VHS tape. He came looking for you. The menacing look on his face doesn't inspire fuzzy feelings.
"Let's bounce!" you cry, gripping Cash's hand and taking off down the street. You aren't going to let window asshole have the fucking chance.
Window asshole takes after you. In a flurry of instinct, you push Cash ahead of you and snarl at the window asshole. The window asshole must be a determined beta. There's not a single scent on him except BO and bad decisions.
Cash is making distressed noises and ducks into an alley, your hand jerks since it's wrapped in his still. Of fucking course, it's a dead end. Offensive magic is illegal, but your instincts aren't even considering Cash's abilities. They're screaming at you to protect the Omega you've taken rushed charge of.
The beta finds you. Window asshole breathes heavily, and, somehow, he's found a broken piece of board. He's not going to be gunning for just you, but the skeleton behind you. Cash is rattling like a leaf and looks to be nearing a panic attack. You push him behind you and take a wide stance, snarling.
"You go through me, first, asshole! Back off. Now." You use your most assertive voice. You can feel pressure on your back. Cash has probably curled his free hand into your jacket, based on the shaking. He murmurs your name.
This must be very jarring to Cash. Who knows what he's been through?
The window asshole stalks forward, but he seems a bit more hesitant. Regardless, he's keeping a brave face. "This your Omega, monsterfucker? I could barely tell you were an Alpha with that shitty scent of yours."
Ugh, what a toxic mentality. It's not like all alphas smell like sweat, masculinity, and ax body spray. What an ass. You know you smell like something unpleasant and dangerous right now. It's a hormonal response.
"I will tear you fucking limb from limb if you don't piss off," you warn him. Your instincts may be raging, but you don't react harshly when a boney wrist comes up to your nose.
The scent of your Omega companion soaks in, potent because of his stress response. He's trying to placate you, maybe?
"Not the time, Cash, I gotta beat his a-"
You're cut off by a swooping feeling, similar to how your stomach drops on an uneven road or rollercoaster. The next moment, you're somewhere else entirely, a residential area with decently paved roads and mostly trimmed bushes.
You turn. Cash is still shaking, but it seems to be from adrenaline more than anything. His eyelights are a bit smaller than they were in the library. Sharper, too. You consciously push out a relaxing aura, hoping to calm Cash down.
"Holy shit, are you okay?" You check Cash from head to toe.
"'m fine. Just... startled," Cash says, "I-I got my shit together and teleported us to my house. Sorry."
If Cash's brother is an Alpha, you're definitely fucking dead. He's going to stab you on the spot or something for bringing home a panicked Omega. Fuuuuck.
"Oh no, that's okay. Weird experience, but everything is temporary. Is your brother going to skewer me for this?"
Cash's eyelights gutter. "Fuck, is he even-"
"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU ON THE LAWN FOR??! YOU'RE TEN MINUTES LATE."
There's the brother. He's home and is looking at you with narrowed eyesockets and crossed arms. At first glance, you'd think Alpha, but there's something distinctly not Alpha about his scent. Like he's been around Alphas and has their residual scent. Or maybe he's trans. You don't know and definitely won't be asking. That's rude.
"WHO IS THIS?"
"This is Y/N. They're cool."
Cash's brother marches down the steps, body language clearly expressing how much he distrusts you. "EXPLAIN...PLEASE."
Cash recounts the story. "We met at the library. Did some studying? We got chased by some pissed-off beta, and I uh, teleported us."
"RIGHT. WELL THEN," he turns to you and extends a gloved hand. "MY NAME IS SANS, DO NOT CALL ME ANYTHING ELSE. THANK YOU." Well, he seems cold, but Cash spoke of him warmly. You decide to give him a chance.
The short brother looks you two over. You can guess just how disheveled you look. Protective pheromones are bound to still be lingering, too. You push forward calmness. Sans sizes you up.
"AND YOU PROTECTED HIM, YES?"
"Bro!" Cash exclaims, embarrassedly punching his brother lightly in the arm. Somehow along the way, he lost his lollipop. It was probably only a stick by then anyways.
"IT'S AN IMPORTANT QUESTION! DO YOU NEED ANOTHER SAFETY LECTURE?"
"Ugh, nooo," groans Cash. You chuckle.
"I tried my best. Dunno if it did any good. Cash saved me from a few bruises, that's for sure."
"HMP. REPORT."
Cash seems to go into another headspace, almost. He focuses intently and stops swatting his brother. "I was thoroughly protected. They put themselves between me and the danger, even snarling at the man."
"GOOD. I PRESUME YOU'VE SWAPPED NUMBERS?"
"Numbers, not digits," you giggle. Cash joins in with your (probably, but fuck it) immature laughter.
"UGH. OF COURSE, YOU WOULD BEFRIEND SOMEONE WITH YOUR WEIRD SENSE OF HUMOR. LET'S EXCHANGE NUMBERS AS WELL."
You exchange numbers.
"GOOD. NOW PLEASE STEP INSIDE TO FILL OUT A REPORT." You look at Sans questioningly.
"I'M IN THE GUARD, AND WE WILL NEED TO PUT A WARNING OUT FOR THIS MAN IMMEADIETLY. BROTHER, YOU'LL SKETCH HIM."
Cash has pulled a tiny notebook from his pocket and is scribbling away. "On it."
"WELL THEN. WELCOME TO OUR HOME. AND LIVES. I GUESS. DON'T FUCK IT UP, ALPHA."
Oh, so he's making sure you know he won't hold back from tossing hands at you because of your status. You grin. That's fantastic. No one likes a doormat slobbering over an alpha just for their status. It's insulting. You're a person just like everyone else, whether they be an alpha or not.
"Thanks, I guess," you lamely say with a cheery expression. These two are going to be a riot, aren't they?