Chapter Text
Late June weather brings long days, humidity, and the screaming of cicadas. Dave Strider would also like to go outside, climb a tree, and scream. If he thought for a second about why cicadas scream, though, he might not want to do that so much. Cicadas scream to attract a mate, which couldn't be more antithetical to Dave's troubles at the moment because it's not the heat or humidity or sun, but the impending solstice and what it brings with it: the Mating Dance.
Not just any mating dance. No, this is THE Dance. It's a bit like a debutante ball, but instead of being for 16-year-old girls with too-rich parents and not enough to do, it's for 21-year-olds who've come of age since the last summer solstice to come together and find their forever-mates. It's the kind of stupid, cheesy, over-the-top thing hosted by people with way too much money for their own good. Completely unnecessary, a means to showboat, and an excuse to get dressed up and eat fancy food and then bone.
But Bro wants him to do this. Bro wants him to go to the Dance.
Guys like Dave don't usually get into these kinds of events, if only because the entry fee is so steep. But Dave is an adult now, and hasn't had even a hint of a prospective mate, and Bro has grown worried... in his own backward way. It mostly involves trying to set Dave up with randos he meets while DJing at the club. Dave likes to point out that if he wanted a club hookup, he'd just go there himself.
They live comfortably enough in their high-rise apartment in the middle of the city, but these things cost big bucks. So, Bro scrimped and saved and skimmed off Dave's paychecks from his job at a mall novelty store, until they'd raised enough for the entry fee. Not only that, but he pulled all of the strings he had available to pull, just to get the committee to consider allowing Dave. Some of those strings may have been tied to blackmail and Dave tries not to think too hard about it.
He tries not to think too hard about any of this.
First and foremost, he doesn't want a mate. Bro keeps threatening to throw Dave's ass out on the street if he doesn't snag an alpha soon, and Dave is starting to think he's serious about it. But that's not how Dave rolls. He detests the idea of being tied down; he just wants to do his own thing and not pump out babies. As far as he's concerned, he has very few other redeeming qualities to entice an alpha, and putting babymaking off the table reduces that number by one.
And second, if he really has to find someone, then he doesn't want a stuffy, rich bitch for a mate. So, this whole exercise is pointless, but Dave doesn't have much choice but to go along with it.
"I understand, love." Bro's mate, Jake, places what is supposed to be a reassuring hand on the younger omega's shoulder. "I'm certain you were too young to remember, but your brother and I had our fair share of difficulties early on. But we managed to get past it, didn't we?"
Dave lifts his head from where he's pressing his forehead into the table and frowns. "Yeah. By virtue of being total fucking horndogs."
He lets his head fall back on the table.
"Oh, Dave," Jake sighs. "I really wish I could help you understand! At the very least, you have to know that your brother can't protect you forever. And you're going to make yourself sick if you keep this up!"
Therein lies the rub. Dave's had his heat for a few years now, and the longer it goes unsatisfied, the higher his risk of getting an admittedly life-threatening infection. Dave knows this. He's just trying to pretend otherwise.
"Thanks, mom," Dave mutters into the table. "I won't get sick. If it really gets that bad, I'll just find some alpha who ain't looking for a mate, get 'em to pump-and-dump, and call it a day. Boom, problem solved."
"Abso-fucking-lutely not."
Bro strides into the kitchen like he was just waiting for the right time to have a quippy one-liner to make an entrance with. Jake is at his side in an instant, nuzzling into his mate's neck, and Bro throws a protective arm around his waist. Dave sits up and makes a gagging gesture.
"I'm not having no brother of mine get saddled with some fuckin' scrub of an alpha," Bro continues, eyes narrowing at Dave behind those stupid pointy shades of his. Dave only knows he's narrowing his eyes because of how his forehead creases ever so slightly.
"You found someone just fine without having to do some stupid stuffy dance," Dave points out.
"Yeah. Because I went out and met people, dipshit. Guess what you don't do?"
Jake frowns severely, tilting his head up and patting Bro's cheek. "Be nice! He's been very cooperative with all of this."
"Thank you," Dave huffs, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms like a petulant teenager.
He does think he's been very accommodating! He behaved during his interview with the committee, he allowed himself to be fitted for the outfit he would wear, and he even acquiesced to going to the stupid crash course in decorum to teach him how to talk and eat and dance and piss like the rich folks.
The tense silence is broken only by Jake's exasperated sigh. Truly, living with two Striders is a feat in and of itself.
"Dave, dearheart, it's just one night," Jake tries to reason. "You'll go and maybe you'll at least have a bit of fun dancing, and when you come home empty-handed, we can at least say we tried everything!"
"Like hell he's—"
"Shush!" Jake shoots his alpha a withering glare, which shuts Bro right up. He then looks back to Dave, his expression shifting back into sympathy. "What your brother is trying to say is that neither of us would be surprised if you came home with more suitors than you can shake a stick at! Why, a young buck like you is going to be quite popular. You're one in a million and any alpha would be lucky to have you."
"Mhm," Bro murmurs in agreement, and nuzzles into Jake's neck. "And I'd like to be in something right about now."
"Oh! Eheh..." Jake inhales sharply as Bro nips "I'm afraid we'll have to continue this discussion later, champ!"
"Ugh, gross." Dave screws up his face and pantomimes throwing up. "Whatever, I'm out. Wipe the counters down when you're done."