Chapter Text
John stopped the car a block from his destination and chose to walk, knowing how difficult parking was near the small grocery store. He could have gone to a closer market, but they didn’t carry his favorite cheese, a local brand he really liked.
With his hands in his coat pockets, he entered the tiny shop. There were only two other customers: a jittery guy arguing with the cashier and a scruffy-looking man in baggy clothes and a baseball cap.
What a crowd, John thought. He sighed, hoping to finish shopping quickly so he could get back to the peace of his living room, the hum of the TV, and his soft couch.
He picked up some deli meats, a few fruits, and a bottle of milk, intending to head to the cheese shelf. But the shabby-looking homeless man was lingering there. John didn’t want to get close—the guy smelled like a dumpster, as if bums had thrown up into it, and then cats had peed on it. He didn’t want to be within a block of him, let alone in the same small room.
But the vagrant was hesitating, and John got tired of waiting. He decided to push past the homeless guy, grab his cheese, and leave. As soon as he took a few steps toward him, John froze. His keen alpha sense of smell, despite being overwhelmed by the unbearable stench that irritated him, picked up something else: this dirty guy was an omega—a fairly young one. And not just any omega—a pregnant one.
John felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. His disgust shifted to regret because pregnant omegas shouldn’t look like this. They should be protected and cherished, valued by their alphas, surrounded by care, love, and tenderness—not wandering alone, reeking like vomit.
Finally, he understood why the ragged man had been lingering by the cheese shelf for so long. He's hungry, John realized. He’s trying to steal food. He noticed the omega hiding a packet of cheese in his baggy jacket, where a couple of apples were already stashed.
He approached the guy, fighting the unbearable stench, grabbed his wrist, and said, "Don’t do that. The guards here are pretty nasty betas, and if they catch you stealing, they’ll beat you, and you don’t need that. I’ll pay for the food if you’re hungry, just don’t do anything stupid."
The guy gasped and finally looked up at him. John thought he was losing his mind because staring back at him from under the grimy baseball cap was Gale Cleven.
His best friend and roommate from flight school, the best pilot of them all—handsome, reserved, intelligent, blond, the perfect boy Gale, or Buck as John used to call him. He had been in love with him throughout their time at the school but could never bring himself to admit it honestly.
Now, Gale's face was dirty, tired, gaunt, with sunken cheeks covered in stubble. During the entire year of flight school, John had never once seen him unshaven. Even under the layer of dirt, the bruises and scrapes were clearly visible beneath his eye and on his cheekbone.
"Let me go," Gale whispered.
"Buck..." John said in shock. "What are you...?" He was so stunned he didn't even realize how tightly he was gripping omega's wrist, and how frightening it must have been for him.
Gale made a strange, loud sobbing sound and jerked away forcefully, accidentally knocking over a fruit display. This finally snapped John out of his stupor, and he let go of the omega's wrist. He bolted out of the store, dropping the stolen goods along the way.
The noise attracted the beta guards from the storeroom, but the brief pause they needed to figure out what happened was enough for John to shout, “Hey, wait, wait, it’s my fault! I scared the guy. I’ll pay for everything. Leave him alone.”
Watching the fleeing figure disappear into the darkness, John approached the cashier to cover the damage.
Well, that was a trip to the store, he thought, tucking away his empty wallet and still in shock from the unexpected encounter. Everything felt like some drunken nightmare. Gale, his best friend from flight school—successful, proud, and handsome—had turned into a smelly vagrant stealing food out of hunger just a year after graduation.
A pregnant, mated vagrant, John reminded himself. And that thought sliced through his feelings like a razor. Gale has an alpha. An alpha from whom he’s expecting a child.
With trembling hands, John pulled a cigarette from the pack and nervously lit it. He couldn’t decide what upset him more: that Gale was a starving bum living on the streets or that he was bound forever by a new life with another guy. Probably both.
He walked down the street, oblivious to the light rain that seemed to mourn his carefree past in flight school, which now felt a bit naïve and childish, along with their shared year of life together.
This time, credit should be given to John's instincts, he sensed danger a second before he felt the strong, grasping hands pulling him into the darkness of the alley.
"What the hell?" he exclaimed before being pressed against the brick wall by a strong, lean, cat-like body that nonetheless reeked horribly.
It was Gale, he realized. He had been waiting for him.
"Food. Do you have food?" The omega knocked the cigarette out of John's mouth with visible disgust. "God, it stinks."
Look who’s talking, John thought.
He handed the bag of groceries to his former classmate, and Gale eagerly grabbed it, rummaging through the contents.
Realizing there was something to eat, omega settled next to the dumpster and began to tear into the food packages hungrily.
John, who had just started to recover from the shock of their unexpected reunion, asked, "What happened to your alpha?"
Gale shrugged uncertainly, stuffing his mouth with pieces of cheese using his dirty fingers, and biting into a juicy red apple as he replied, "It's a long story."
"If your alpha can't take care of you, then why don’t you seek shelter?"
Gale responded with only a gloomy glare.
"Pregnant omegas without alphas to care for them can't live on the streets, Buck, and you know that."
"Leave me alone," blonde mumbled with a full mouth.
"Buck, you should..."
"Don't you dare tell me what I should do," Gale growled, and John stepped back.
He reminded himself that he was just an outsider in this situation, not involved in the drama of Gale's relationship with his alpha, so he couldn't fully grasp the complexity of it all.
But it wasn't that simple: he was legally obligated to report that a pregnant omega was living on the streets and not receiving the necessary care.
"Who beat you up?"
The blonde shrugged irritably.
"Those damn security guards. Stupid betas," Gale scoffed. "Idiots with no sense of smell."
After finishing the contents of John's bag, the omega stood up and fixed his gaze on him.
"Do you have any more food?"
John replied, "Only at home."
Gale shifted his weight from foot to foot, frowning as if deep in thought.
"Okay."
He cautiously followed alpha to his car and sat down in the back seat, keeping his distance from John. Immediately, John rolled down all the windows despite the chilly autumn evening because being in the small enclosed space with the blonde's smell was unbearable for him.
After a while, Gale, who sat motionless pressed against the far door from the driver, said, "You didn't recognize me in the store, Bucky."
"What?"
"You didn't recognize me there until you came up and saw my face, even though we shared a room at flight school for almost a year."
"You're mated with another man, and you're pregnant, of course I didn't recognize your scent. It's completely different."
"Oh."
"Oh?"
"I'm amazed how you alphas rely on your sense of smell for everything."
"Because it is the most reliable indicator and it is impossible to deceive."
"Is it?"
The rest of the journey was silent. John struggled against the urge to vomit from the unbearable smell of his companion, his heart pounding and breath hitching, while Gale drilled a tense gaze into the back of his head.