Work Text:
November 2009
It was three years later that a much older, much more jaded James Bond saw that strange little Omega from M’s flat again. It was pure luck that caused James to look up from where he’d been browsing through a used book store in time to catch sight of the young man. It had been so long that James (almost) doubted himself. But he was a double-O and he rarely forgot a face. Besides, with high cheek bones, flawless skin, and clear grey-green eyes that could be seen from across the street (even behind those thick framed glasses) the Omega was a hard man to mistake.
For a moment the agent thought about allowing the man to walk on. He was still M’s son, after all, and while the years may not have taught him obedience, they had beaten restraint into the Alpha. Some things were best left alone. But then James had noticed a trio of men following just a tad bit too closely behind the clueless Omega and had wordlessly slipped out into the winter air to follow. Because 007 would be damned if M’s son got kidnapped on his watch.
The agent turned the corner just in time to see them slowly closing in on the younger man, careful to keep themselves downwind of the brunet. He hoped it was a simple robbery – or worse, even – and not an abduction attempt by M's enemies. James quickened his step, his long strides easily catching up and the Alpha jostled his way through their closed ranks, causing one of the men (all betas but that one, hand guns – robbery, then?) to careen roughly into a post box.
“Darling,” James said warmly as he slid a possessive arm around the Omega’s waist, “sorry I’m late. You’re not terribly angry, are you?”
The younger man started, eyes widening comically, wind-pinked lips parting in a startled gasp. A hand flew up and flattened over James' gloved one, as if seeking reassurance from the stronger presence. The instinctive move sparked something visceral in the Alpha and his grip on the man’s waist tightened, blue eyes flashing warningly behind them. The reaction didn’t go unnoticed by the Omega and quick eyes darted over to the adjacent shop window, taking in the reflection of the irritated group behind them, before halting on the lone Alpha. Recognition. Not a robbery then.
“Not at all,” the Omega answered cheerfully, pressing himself even further against the agent’s side. From his peripheral James saw the other Alpha stiffen at the contact. Pale green eyes glanced up at him warmly from beneath thick, dark lashes before a hand fisted in the flannel of James’ scarf. A cold nose brushed ever so lightly across the line of his jaw, a warm breath puffing against the underside of his chin in a move that made James’ stomach muscles tighten in blatant interest. The hand resting on the Omega’s waist tightened into more of a grip, splaying wide across a wool-swaddled hip. “You’ll make it up to me, won’t you James?”
James nodded, mouth suddenly utterly dry after that breathless tone, and slid a hand up the younger man’s back until it was curled at the nape of his neck, resting just under a wealth of curls. Blue eyes darkened as the Omega arched into the path of his gloved hand, all but purring at the touch. Such a responsive little thing.
“Alcott!” The name was more of a snarl than anything else and James stiffened, instinctively twisting the younger man behind him as he swirled around to face the red-faced Alpha.
“Philippe?” The Omega gasped, voice fraught with surprise as he peaked out from around James’ shoulder. If the agent hadn’t known any better, he’d have thought the emotion real. “What are you doing here?”
“It is of no matter.” The other man, Philippe, was practically vibrating where he stood, face fierce and eyes blazing. “Inform your brother I withdraw my claim. I have no urge to breed a slut.”
James stiffened but aborted his step forward when the Omega – Alcott – latched a surprisingly tight grip around his forearm. The double-O settled for giving the other Alpha a dark, threatening glare. The two betas shifted (bodyguards, James mind supplied) and stepped forward, hands brushing against their hidden holsters warningly.
“Withdraw your – !” The Omega gaped, looking completely startled. “But Philippe, I thought I had been rather clear in my rejection of you just last night.” The man stiffened even further at those words, the sour look aging his face by at least ten years. “Come to think of it, I think I was just as clear the night before that as well.”
“I will ensure that others will hear of this disrespect. You’ll never find an Alpha, mark my words! I’ll have your entire family black-listed!” Philippe snapped, turning impressively on a booted heel before stalking away.
“I do hope that’s a promise.” The Omega muttered as he watched the man stomp off. He took two distinctive steps backwards, restoring a proper distance between them once more and then - and then his entire body language shifted into disinterest and it was as if the moment had never happened. It took James' hormone fueled mind just a moment to switch gears and catch up.
He let out a huff of amusement. “I take it I’ve just been used.”
“Quite thoroughly, I’m afraid.” Alcott answered, not quite capable of keeping the glee out of his voice. The Omega glanced up a moment later, brows furrowing as a bottom lip caught between his teeth coyly. “I do hope you’re not cross.”
“On the contrary, Mr. Mansfield, I’m glad I could be of service.” James answered distractedly, eyes still locked on the teased lip.
Alcott made a face at the last name, nose wrinkling rather adorably and shaving years off his visage. “Thankfully that’s not my last name. What a terrible combination.”
…oh, really. M must have kept her maiden name. Alright, James thought, I'll bite.
“As compared to?”
But the brunet only waved away the leading question with a satisfied smirk. “I don’t think I should tell you, Mr. Bond.”
The Alpha decidedly did not pout. “No?”
“No.” A sleek black SUV with government plates pulled up behind them, an armed Beta slipping out of the front passenger seat and opening the rear door. The very edge of a suited leg could be seen with a long, well-crafted walking stick resting length wise over it. “Ah,” Alcott said dryly, “this appears to be my ride, I fear.”
A slim hand, reddened and chilled from the November air, was raised in farewell and the Alpha was struck with the urge to reach across the small distance and warm it between the soft leather of his gloves.
“It was a pleasure seeing you again, Mr. Bond.”
“Likewise…Mr. Mansfield.”
Alcott rewarded him with another quirked, grimace of a smile before disappearing behind tinted windows. James watched the car fight its way through London traffic for a few moments, a bemused smile on his face, then turned away. He allowed himself one more deep inhale of the sweet, heady scent that still clung to him before hiking the collar of his coat up higher and pushing the odd Omega from his mind once again.