Chapter Text
Alfred was pissed.
Every few months, his father dragged in alphas who worked for his massive company and tried to arrange a marriage for his seventeen year old son. Most of them were far older and eager to find a way to go up in the world. All of them were pleased to be offered an omega on a platter. And, thankfully, all of them fled as soon as they saw Alfred's sloppy appearance and belligerent attitude. Alfred had demanded several times that his dad stop. Finally, after several failures since Alfred's first heat at the age of fourteen, it seemed the arranged marriage idea had been forgotten.
Until today.
Now, Alfred was sat in the dining room, the table between him and the salaryman from his father's company. Apparently, the salaryman had worked his way up from an intern position and was only twenty-one. Alfred had been furious when he had found out about the meeting, more so when he was woken early just for the occasion. He hadn't quite known what to expect but it certainly hadn't been the guy with the British accent.
The first thing that had struck Alfred when he had come down the stairs had been the alpha's blond hair: it was a complete mess and entirely at odds with the neatly pressed suit, the straight tie and the white shirt. In fact, the shirt was so white, it put his mother's gleaming kitchen tiles to shame. Then he'd spotted the man's massive eyebrows and made sure to mention them to put the guy off. All that had happened was that one of them twitched and the alpha's eyes bored into Alfred's. The omega had been so startled by the intensity of his green eyes that he had lowered his gaze immediately.
And that was why Alfred was glowering at the man from over the top of the tea set. How dare this man stalk in here to attempt to lay a claim on him and force him to display the submissive side of himself? Not only that but all he had done was introduce himself and exchange small talk with Alfred's parents. Once they had left for the living room, Arthur had said nothing, merely sipping his tea and glancing at Alfred every so often.
It had been ten minutes.
“Aren't you gonna try to flirt with me? Or go on about how great you are?” Alfred grumbled, eyes narrowed.
“Do I need to?” Arthur drawled, picking up one of the cupcakes that Alfred's mum had provided. He placed it on one of the plates and began to painstakingly – and far too slowly – peel off the paper. “You already know who I work for. I make enough. The company's stable and has continuously rising profits. I thought you would know all this.” When Arthur raised his eyes it was with barely held contempt.
“Yeah, so? I don't know anything about you.”
“I can provide for you and a family, if we have one. That's all you really need to know, isn't it? That's all your father cares about.”
“I'm not my father!” Alfred snapped.
“Clearly.” Arthur's eyes raked over Alfred's crumpled t-shirt and faded jeans. He probably took in Alfred's bed-head, too. “Look,” he said, finally peeling the paper off the cupcake fully. He placed it on the plate and lifted one of the tiny cake forks. As he sliced through the sponge, he said, “I'm only here because your father asked me to meet you. He's apparently been going on about this for a while, so I agreed, if only to set his mind at rest and help him focus on his work.” Arthur frowned at Alfred who shrugged a shoulder, unsure where this was going. “It seems Mister Jones uses a lot his time to find you a suitable mate – and then they're all rejected. What a terrible waste of time.”
“What's that supposed to mean?” Alfred leaned forward, ready to throw a cake in Arthur's face or something equally as rebellious. Maybe that'd put him off.
“I want to work,” Arthur explained after he had swallowed his mouthful. “I don't want to start a family, I don't want distractions and I don't want you.
Alfred was so shocked, he almost forgot to be offended. “Excuse me?”
“You're a sloppy excuse for an omega,” replied Arthur. “Look at the state you're in to meet guests. I don't want my omega to come to the door looking like Bigfoot dragged him through a hedge backwards. They'd need to look stylish. Besides, you're not even out of high school. You're way too young.”
“Then why did you agree to meet me? Didntcha know how old I was?”
“I did. I told you, the boss asked, so I said yes. I'm only here for the company: I'll tell your father that I'll mate with you in a few years and we'll be engaged. He won't have to worry about you. Productivity will go up. I've calculated all of this accurately, you see.”
For a moment, Alfred could only stare, incredulous. Then he felt annoyed – how dare this alpha tell him he was undesirable! He was highly sought after – at least, he had been until he had rejected the majority of his suitors. Still, it irked him and he snapped at Arthur. “What the hell? Are you trying to tell me I won't find someone better than you? That no-one else would want me?”
Arthur smirked. “You may find someone you consider a better fit for you but I doubt they'd be interested. I can smell from here your poor diet, after all. You need to eat less junk food.”
“How-?!” Alfred began but he was interrupted as Arthur set down his fork and stood.
“Your insubordination is another turn-off, you know. Thank you for your company, Mister Jones, but I must discuss the particulars with your father.” With that, the alpha swept from the room, not sparing a backward glance.
Alone at the table, sullen and offended, Alfred fumed. Arthur was pompous and arrogant and far too cocky. He hated the alpha. But... he was right in what he said. Alfred hadn't been approached by alphas for some time now and, without the assurance that he could get whatever alpha he wanted, when he wanted, it was looking more likely that he would have to marry Arthur even if he begged his father not to. His father would not allow Alfred to break off an engagement for an uncertain future.
The only solution, Alfred concluded, was to reinvent himself so that alphas would find him desirable again. Smirking, he nodded his approval at the idea.
He'd show him.