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It was very difficult to find your soulmate. Only a few people in the world were able to; the rest settled for the next most compatible and dealt with it. But everyone loved a good soulmate story: the tragic, the romantic, the everyday. Everyone had heard the tales.
And that included Arthur Kirkland.
He had been listening to his mother's stories ever since he was a kid, more so when, at the age of twelve, he had discovered that he was an omega. The Kirkland boys had been brought up as alphas before puberty and, when he found out he was different from his brothers, he had taken refuge in the stories. After all, he couldn't imagine any alpha bar his soulmate would want him, considering his 'defects'.
As he grew older, he had stuck with this belief and rebuffed several alphas in high school. One, a French boy who had moved to England, became one of several good alpha friends. Arthur almost seemed to collect a posse of alphas over his time in university, in fact. Each one had, at one point, expressed a casual interest and, despite having lost faith in a soulmate appearing, Arthur didn't think they would work well together. After he turned them down, they became his bodyguards, more or less. They were almost as protective as Arthur's family and he was glad for them. Deep down, though he had outwardly given up on the idea, he still yearned for a soulmate; having alphas scare off others before they approached meant he didn't have to constantly be on the alert.
So it was that Francis, Gilbert and Antonio accompanied him on his road trip across America during their 'last summer of freedom' after they had all graduated. All three of the alphas had career jobs lined up for them in September and they intended to use their time wisely – i.e., getting drunk and partying across the huge nation. Arthur, however, had nothing: no publishing houses, no libraries and no bookshops were hiring and like hell he was going to teach a bunch of snot-nosed brats English.
That was one of Arthur's many 'defects'. He hated kids with a passion, something no omega is supposed to do. Never mind that they seemed to love him (his little cousin, Peter, being a prime example), Arthur often tried to get rid of them as quickly as possible. If he ever did meet his soulmate, he had no idea how he was going to tell them that they were going to have to use protection forever more.
They decided to start their road trip in New York City, since Arthur hadn't been able to go with his family when his first heat had hit him. It had been a particularly bad one, going on for far longer than a week and he'd had to stay behind with his mother while the alphas of his family swanned off to have fun. At least they'd brought him gifts, though most of it had I <3 NYC on it.
And there, amongst the smell of petrol fumes and sweat and hot dogs and grease, Arthur smelled something so amazing that he stopped dead in the middle of Times Square. Antonio, walking just behind him, bumped into Arthur and frowned at the prone Englishman, concerned. “What is it, Arturo?” he asked.
But Arthur wasn't listening. He could smell freshly cut grass and the earth after it had rained. There was a hint of cooked apple and home-baking. The scent of roses was there along with both old and new book scents. And, overpowering the lot was the smell of sun-kissed skin, so enticing he wanted to press his nose against it and breathe deeply.
Taking a deep breath, Arthur cast about, trying to figure out where the smell came from. His friends were growing rather concerned and, as he absent-mindedly began to wander in the direction he was sure it came from, Francis stepped in front of him. “Arthur. What is it?”
“Can't you smell that?” he asked, barely acknowledging him.
“Smell what?” asked Gilbert, thrusting his nose in the air and taking big sniffs of the air. “Petrol? Is it making you feel ill?”
“Is it the heat suppressant you took?” Antonio inquired, becoming more concerned.
“No, it's...” Arthur trailed off, his eyes landing on the road he was sure the smell was coming from. Without finishing his sentence, Arthur hurried off, his friends barely keeping up as he sped up. He was soon jogging then running, trying to catch up with the smell as it seemed to grow more distinct. When he rounded a corner further down the road, he ran smack into someone coming the other way. And it wasn't just any someone: as he took a breath to apologise, he got a whiff of the scent and gasped, glancing up at the man who he now realised was a beautifully smelling alpha.
The man looked just as shocked as Arthur felt to find him so suddenly. He had blond hair which seemed a mess, strands of his hair sticking every which way as if he'd run his hand through it when it had been sweaty. His face was a little red from exertion but Arthur couldn't quite figure out what he had been doing as he was wearing jeans and a Deadpool t-shirt; he didn't look as though he had been intentionally exercising. Maybe Arthur looked the same, the same red face and sweaty hair. But all thoughts of how awful he must look went out the window as he spotted the eyes behind the pair of spectacles – such a striking blue that Arthur couldn't help but stare. Arthur also got another whiff of that scent as the man shifted his weight and Arthur's knees buckled.
Thankfully, the man caught him, an arm looped around Arthur's waist as he pulled him in close. Arthur could feel him sniffing at his hair but he didn't really care, not when he was closer to him, when he could discreetly sniff at him without embarrassment. Then he heard the man muttering above him and he shifted so he could hear him.
“So good,” the man was murmuring, taking a deep sniff. “Mine.”
“Yours,” Arthur replied – and he wasn't so sure it was a question, as disoriented as he was.
He knew he should have pulled away at that thought but Arthur couldn't quite seem able to make himself do so. Luckily, that was why he had three strapping young, unattached alphas following him around. Because, at that moment, they finally caught up with Arthur and entered the scene. Francis was the first to react.
“Arthur! What are you doing?!”
Reluctantly, Arthur pulled away, still feeling a little weak and dazed, almost drunk even. “Smells good,” he muttered, a little petulantly. He swayed, the world spinning as he tried to work out what was going on exactly.
An arm around his waist tugged him back towards the problem, the alpha keeping Arthur pinned to his side. A growl rumbled in his chest and Arthur glanced up to find him glaring at his friends. “What do you want?” he snapped, rather aggressively. It made Arthur flinch and he pulled away slightly, the scent still muddling his head.
Thankfully, with the familiar combined smell of his friends close once again, his head began to clear a little. “These are my friends,” he explained. “Don't fight them.”
“Did you... Did you smell this alpha all the way from there?” asked Gilbert, jerking his head to the street behind him.
“Um,” said Arthur, blinking. “Yes.”
“How far away did you smell Arthur?” Antonio asked the new alpha.
The alpha seemed to consider. “Uh. Like, a street away?” he said, seeming uncertain. He pressed a hand to his head. “What just happened?”
“Did you happen to pass through Times Square earlier?” asked Francis, a smile tugging at his lips.
“Yeah?”
“Well, well, Arthur.” Francis turned to the omega who frowned back at him. “You lucky dog. I do believe you have just met your soulmate.”
“Huh?” Arthur said, rather intelligently.
“Really?!” said the alpha, becoming excited and bouncing with glee, jiggling Arthur since he seemed loathe to let the omega go. “You really think so?”
“It's the only explanation for Arthur running off like that,” Francis told the alpha.
“Arthur, huh?” the alpha said, turning his blinding smile on the omega in question. Arthur smiled back tentatively, shyly, a little cautiously. “My name's Alfred. Nice to meetcha!”