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Vessel wasn’t sure what he was expecting when he answered the phone on Monday morning.
Typically, he only ever receives one, maybe two, calls a year from the National Behavioral Analysis Center for Alphas and Omegas. He’s never received a call from somewhere else, another country, requesting his assistance with a peculiar case. A case they couldn’t quite crack. A case that required someone with his specific sub-type, Dominant Alpha, to be present. His interest is piqued from the moment he arrives in Wales that Friday morning before he’s personally chauffeured to the center that contacted him.
From the moment he first sits down alongside the aged Alpha overseeing this patient’s case, he’s provided with a heavy file and given the full scope of the patient's details. His non-disclosure agreement, and the patient and physician’s signed approval, sit to the left side of the folder while on the right side lies a stack of papers. Vessel’s deep blue eyes rake over the words, taking them in slowly as he begins to paint a picture in his mind of the person he’s been sent to interact with.
Name: Ives Castell
Age:22
Date of Birth:07/13/19XX
Date of Presentation: 02/21/20XX
Presentation Type: Omega
Current Status: Unmated
Sub-Type Designation Log 1, status unknown. Initial observation halted due to patient and parental refusal for continuance. Suspected Endurance Omega. -Dr. Kallen, 04/17/20XX
Log 2, status still unknown. Consulting third party, Dominant Alpha aged 24, for cooperative designation attempt with the patient after behavioral analysis referral from the patient’s primary physician. This recommendation comes after several failed attempts to find a successful courtship/mate. Suspected Endurance Omega? Discuss possible options with the patient and observe third party interactions if permitted. -Dr. Medwin
Primary Traits:
Ignores Alpha commands
Independent action taker without fear of repercussions
Strong personality
Impressive physical stature, non-typical Omega body type
Aggressive during mating cycles/Heat
Prominent scent
Scent Notes: Caramel, coffee beans, sweet cream
Odd, Vessel thinks, as he hands the file back to Dr. Medwin before folding his hands over his lap.
“Where is he?” Vessel asks, eyeballing the woman before him, a Shelter Alpha with gray hair and prominent wrinkles surrounding her eyes and lips.
“He’s waiting for you in the observation room down the hall,” Dr. Medwin explains with a small, almost gummy smile. Vessel has to hand it to her, sticking with this business for so long. Maybe that’s why it surprises him that she’s having trouble pinpointing what this person's, this Omega’s, Sub-Type is.
“Is there anything I should be aware of? Or anything that I should do? I’m not a doctor, if you haven’t noticed.”
He’s not even a psychiatrist. Or a psychologist. Or a technician.
He’s a musician. Piano player. Guitarist. Bassist. Singer. Whatever he’s needed to be. Whatever puts food on the table for himself and his two mates back at home. Of course, they already know this. He was referred to their office, after all. They would have pulled his file, seen his occupation and track record. He does this in his free time, consulting, helping out with hard to crack cases because everyone deserves to have their own individual quirks and personality differences noted and understood.
II often speaks of his time spent at their local center as a waste of time. Even he knew what he was from the moment that he presented. Siren Omega. Unintentionally seductive. II could be frothing at the mouth and someone would still find him absurdly attractive. Vessel knows it isn’t easy on him. Knows that it never has been. II presented late in life, the only saving grace. Vessel dreads to think what could have happened to him if he had presented prior to their meeting and dating. Some days, he feels like he’s responsible for II presenting in the first place.
III feels the same way more often than not. A False-Dominant Alpha. All the same traits that Vessel himself holds, but… III’s all bark, no bite. No silencing everyone else on a whim. No being incapable of being told what to do. He could talk the talk. Look the part. Smell like a firestorm or hurricane, like violence poorly concealed in human skin, but… he buckled whenever Vessel showed him the slightest bit of pushback. Rare subtype. Still not as rare as Vessel’s. He loved to give him shit about that, too. A near perfect copy-cat, just a little off.
“He’s very defiant,” Dr. Medwin answers flatly. Crosses her arms. Taps her aged, crooked fingers on the bunched up fabric of her white lab coat. “Won’t listen to a thing I, or any other Alpha, say. I’d almost mistake him for someone with your affinity, but he is, undoubtedly, an Omega. There is no mistake, no conflicting pheromone or hormonal issue. He is as healthy as a horse, only… an enigma. He’s become frustrated in recent times, attempting to find himself a proper mate, but… he has come to us for help, and help him we shall.”
“What do you want me to do? Command him, I presume?” Vessel inquires, lifting a dark brow.
“Try to,” Dr. Medwin confirms. “I’ll be behind the glass observing your interaction. Ives, Ivy as he likes to be called, has consented to all of this, of course. His parents were critical of his status as an Omega when he initially presented and showed up here all those years ago. So, in a way, I believe he is finding this whole process cathartic. Still, it is up to me to find the answers to his… peculiar presentation. I have some theories, but I cannot test those without you present. Thank you again for agreeing to be here.”
“Don’t mention it,” Vessel replies with a half-shrug. The smell of cherry blossoms curls around him. A pretty, floral scent. Not at all something one would expect from an Alpha, let alone a Dominant one. He’s used to subverting people’s expectations, but it seems Dr. Medwin is surprised by his scent all the same judging by her knitted eyebrows and narrowed stare. Appreciative. Not quite judgemental.
“Shall we go meet him then?” Dr. Medwin asks, slowly rising from her office chair before she reaches for her cane. All along its cylindrical surface lie myriad stickers, names of all the various different Sub-Types she’s diagnosed over the course of her career. It doesn’t escape Vessel’s keen observation that the stickers are piled on top of each other, making her cane thicker than it should be.
“I like your cane,” Vessel comments, eying the foiled letters that sparkle in various shades of prismatic colors with shifting hues of glitter against the white background of the sticker sheets.
“I make a new one every year, showcasing the amount of patients I’ve helped throughout the course of the year. I find that it helps my patients feel more comfortable and confident interacting and cooperating with me,” Dr. Medwin answers with another charming, gummy smile. She vaguely reminds Vessel of II’s grandmother, an educated woman who dedicated her life to helping others. Although she did so in other ways. Vessel’s always given her credit, he could never see himself as a teacher.
They fall into comfortable silence after that, walking out of her office. Out of respect, Vessel lets her go first. So what if his instincts grumble about it. He’s long since learned to curb his instinct, the urge to be first. Perceive all possible threats. Put himself in front of others, including other Alphas, so that he would be the first one seen. The first one heard. It isn’t necessary. He’d always be seen, always be heard. It’s in his very nature.
“Here we are,” Dr. Medwin informs him as they arrive at a room with two doors, one on either side. On one side lies an observation room. One way glass. On the other, a comfortable room with a couch and myriad blankets. Necessary for Omegas. A little less necessary for Alphas. It doesn’t matter, Vessel knows better than to touch whatever is in there unless given explicit permission. So what if he could do as he pleased, he never would.
That’s why they called him, after all. Of six documented Dominant Alphas in the world, he’s the only one contracted for consultations for a reason. He doesn’t mind helping. Thanks his lucky stars that his mother and father raised him properly. Never let his Sub-Type affect the way he was brought up. He still got grounded. His phone taken from him. Electronics confiscated. Lots and lots of behavioral therapy.
II says he’s a good man. That he’s always felt safe with him. That he’s never, not once, felt pressured into doing anything by him.
III says he’s the most compassionate, feeling person he’s ever met. That because of that, he fell in love with him. Fell hard and fast. Felt safe enough with him to bare his neck. Relinquish control. Entrust Vessel with his future.
The facilities trust him the same, and Vessel is glad that they do. He wants to help people. He always has. Even in the moments in his life when he felt incapable of helping himself, he never once lost his desire to help others. If he can do that now, here, for Ivy, for Dr. Medwin, he would and he’d be happy to do it. Even if it takes him away from his mates. Even if it takes him away from the comfort of his home and their arms.
“I’ll do my best,” Vessel tells Dr. Medwin sincerely. He offers her a quick flash of teeth. A half-smile. Confident. He doesn’t know what awaits him on the other side, only what he’s read and been told, but he knows he can handle it. He has to. He doesn’t want Ivy leaving this place without the answers he seeks.
“Let me know if you need assistance. I will be in the next room,” Dr. Medwin says with a nod. Vessel watches her reach for the observation room’s door before she pauses, glancing over her shoulder. “I should mention, and I have left this out of his file until I can confirm my… recent suspicions, but… Ivy has proven himself… capable of commanding others. Namely, he has successfully dismissed members of my staff of both secondary sex, regardless of Sub-Type, without them wishing to exit the room.”
Vessel’s eyes widen. His scent flares with challenge. One look from Dr. Medwin and he reins it in. Snuffs it out. Her scent of sandalwood and sand is more prominent than his by the time he finishes reeling it in. Her words bounce around in his head as he tries to put the pieces together, cross-referencing what she’s only just told him with what he already knows.
The moment that Dr. Medwin disappears behind the door to his left, Vessel knocks on the other. Curiosity piqued. Instincts stifled. Scent buried low. Head held high. He’s excited. Nervous. Eager to help, to see what’s on the other side of the door. A quiet voice greets him, muffled by the wooden surface and plaster walls that divide them.
“Come in.”
Vessel turns the door knob. Steps inside. Holds his breath as his deep blue eyes dart across the room and land on…
A very unimpressed, but incredibly alert, Omega.
He’s… pretty. Gorgeous, really. Soft brown hair and eyes the color of stormclouds. High Cheekbones. Muscular thighs and arms with a defined waist. The Omega’s scent flairs. Off-caramel. Coffee, bitter and burnt, covering the notes of cream entirely. Vessel lets his own scent out. He’s not surprised when it dominates the space as it so easily does. What does surprise him, however, is the way that Ivy’s is not entirely extinguished. No, it’s still discernible. Noticeable. Far more than it should be. The blankets on the sofa, the ones meant for a nest, remain folded. Untouched. The last thing one would expect from an Omega.
Vessel steps into the room, letting the heavy wooden door click shut behind him.
Whatever Dr. Medwin instructed Ivy to do is a secret to him, but he finds out a moment later.
“Out.”
A command.
Vessel’s eyes widen. A growl slips past his lips. His hair stands on end. A challenge? No, no challenge for him. Yet, for anyone else… ah, it makes sense now. Vessel thinks he understands Dr. Medwin’s theory, the one she kept so close to her chest. Ivy’s eyes are wild. Dilated. Unsure. Vessel takes a firm step forward, eying the man on the couch.
“Kneel,” Vessel commands right back.
Ivy’s eyes widen. His breath hitches. His panic is as clear as day. The light switch moment, Vessel watches it happen in real time. Ivy slips off of the couch by compulsion alone. Slides down to his knees, sitting there. His eyes widen further, showing off the whites fully. His shock. His awe. His… relief. Tears. Shaking hands. Vessel takes another step forward, then another. Ivy’s bottom lip trembles, but he doesn’t move.
“You can command other Omegas,” Vessel murmurs aloud, approaching the trembling man. “You commanded Alphas that have been a part of your care. You’ve had a hard time not scaring off potential mates because your instincts don’t feel… right to you, and you don’t experience the same things that other Omegas do. Alphas don’t know what to make of that, and you… you don’t know what to make of it either.”
Vessel isn’t a doctor. He isn’t trained for this. He holds no ability to diagnose Ivy, but the pieces click into place all the same. How could they not? He’s face to face with someone who possesses a trait more rare than his own. Three documented cases in the world the last time he looked, and boy, did he look. Vessel’s lips twitch upward into a smile. A tear rolls down Ivy’s flushed cheek.
“Sovereign.”
The voice over the intercom startles them both, but says the word aloud. Confirms the suspicion. Ivy sniffles. Vessel offers him a smile, smiling wider when Ivy shakily grins back.
Vessel extends his hand, happy when the Omega takes it.
-
“I was beginning to think that something was seriously wrong with me.”
Vessel wraps his hands firmly around the steaming hot mug that contains his caramel macchiato. The warmth spreads from the tips of his fingertips to his palms, heated by the white ceramic. Across the table from him sits Ivy, bundled up in a parka with a baseball cap haphazardly perched atop his soft brown hair. It’s hard to believe that this is the same person he met this morning. Where Ivy had looked so unbelievably lost and concerned, he now looks… elated. Lighter. As if the weight has finally been taken off of his shoulders. Vessel reasons that it has, all things considered.
“Nothing wrong with you, but your particular case is well… exceedingly hard to diagnose, or so I’ve been told.” Vessel answers, raising his mug to take a sip. Ivy mirrors his actions, sipping his hot chocolate.
“Tell me about it,” Ivy snickers, scent flaring as he empties half of his mug in one long swig. “I’m surprised you agreed to sit down and talk to me.”
“I’m not a doctor, so technically speaking, agreeing to talk with you outside of the clinic isn’t like… violating any weird rules about overstepping. I agreed to sit down with you because I figured you could use a friend right now,” Vessel explains with a smile. It doesn’t escape him how Ivy’s eyes light up when he speaks. How his mouth twitches upward into a shy smile.
He’s cute.
Painfully so. But Vessel’s seen the other side of him, too. A little sassy. A little uppity. So sure of himself and the things that he wants. Unwilling to yield. He saw how he disagreed with Dr. Medwin. How he refused to be her test dummy once he got what he wanted. He doesn’t think the doctor took any offense, though. After all, she got to design, print out, and add a new sparkling sticker to that cane of hers. She got what she wanted in the end. So did Ivy.
“Well, you figured right. I guess this is also like… a once in a lifetime meeting, huh? A Dominant Alpha and a… Sovereign Omega. What an unlikely pair to find in some local coffee shop in Cardiff,” Ivy muses, blushing as he once more reaches for his mug. Vessel watches him polish off his drink before he takes another sip of his own. Caramel. Delicious.
“I’ve got a pack back at home,” Vessel shares, taking stock of the way Ivy’s expression falls for a moment before he masks it with what he presumes to be an interested smile. Vessel bites his lower lip. Cocks his head to the side. He thinks he gets what’s going on here. He doesn’t think he can blame Ivy for it either. “My first mate is a Siren Omega, I met him back in university. He didn’t present until he was nineteen, and when he did, he wasn’t exactly happy about it.”
“No kidding,” Ivy hums, crinkling his nose. “I can’t imagine how frustrating that is, all those mixed signals people swear they notice. He must be annoyed to death at having to explain himself so much.”
“Oh, not at all. He doesn’t hesitate to put people in their place if they presume he’s leading them on for something,” Vessel genuinely laughs. II is a firecracker. Always has been. He didn’t let presenting stop him from being himself. Not even if it meant he felt the need to have an escort anywhere he went. Him or III. Sam occasionally. The girls on the rare chance they came through London. II hated being out in public alone, and for that, Vessel can’t blame him. He knows he can’t change how the world works, or make it a safer place for his mate, but at least with II he doesn’t have to worry about him being afraid to speak up for himself.
“What about the rest of your pack?” Ivy inquires with a raised brow.
“Our other mate is a False-Dominant Alpha,” Vessel says through a bemused smile. Ivy’s eyes widen a fraction before Vessel lets out a sharp laugh. “He’s hilarious, honestly. A little bit of a mess, too. When we first met he had successfully passed himself off as a Dominant Alpha for years, had all these people fooled without having to directly lie to them, but the moment our paths crossed, he was… in awe of what an actual Dominant Alpha is like. He was a little off the mark, but he survived this long pretending he was one. Even in nature, mimicry is the sincerest form of flattery, or… survival.”
“So they say,” Ivy hums, eyeballing his empty cup. His shoulders seem a little deflated. His scent weaker than the caramel macchiato Vessel holds to his lips. Vessel frowns as he polishes it off, setting down his empty mug.
“Is everything all right?” Vessel asks with a raised brow. He studies Ivy’s immediate reaction. Slouched shoulders. Gaze falling to his lap. Blush on his cheek. Hands fidgeting in his lap. Scent still weak. Nervous. Embarrassed. It’s hard to say which. One could be true, but then again, they both could.
“This is… kind of embarrassing,” Ivy starts, and Vessel’s lips fall open into an oh. Ivy chews on his bottom lip, his blush deepening before he lets out a sigh. “I… I don’t know what I was expecting by asking you here, honestly. I knew you were just trying to help me. I signed the paper and gave consent for you to be here to help confirm my Sub-Type, but I… guess I sort of wanted to believe you’d agreed to go out with me because of… me? I… I’m sorry. I’m being stupid.”
“You’re not being stupid,” Vessel says immediately. His scent cuts through the air, fresh cherry blossom petals carrying on the central heat’s breeze as it whistles through the vents. The chatter in the cafe quiets. III’s scent could never do that. The hallmark of a true Dominant. Ivy warily raises his gaze. His pretty blue eyes are widened. Startled. His scent sweetens, becomes palpable once again. Placating.
“No, it’s… definitely my fault. You’re just trying to help me. Meanwhile, like a jackass, I’m… expecting this to be a date of some kind,” Ivy laughs awkwardly. Rubs at the back of his neck. He’s nothing like an Omega like this. Not nearly as meek. Willing to meet his gaze even when his scent flares. Every other person in the cafe, Beta, Alpha, and Omega alike looks away from him, but Ivy… Ivy doesn’t look away. It’s like he can’t look away.
Vessel knows if he pushed it, Ivy would buckle. Cave in. Avert his eyes. Refuse to speak. It reminds him of III in that way. Only, Ivy does have bite.
Anchor Alpha. Empath Alpha. Sanctuary Alpha. Traditional Alpha. Sentinel Alpha. Whatever type of Alpha, sans Dominant, it doesn’t matter. Whatever type of Omega, or whether or not they were a Beta, that doesn’t matter either.
Ivy could command them all. Could impose his will. He might be embarrassed now, but Vessel isn’t fooled by him, not at all. He can tell Ivy is headstrong. Used to being in charge, whether from want or necessity, he cannot say. He knows it can’t be easy, navigating the world like this. There wasn’t much known about Sovereign Omegas. Hell, even he only knows about them through the lens of being another one in a billion Sub-Type.
He’s never met one in person.
Dr. Medwin hadn’t either.
“Tell me about yourself,” Vessel says, shaking his head. Ivy cocks a brow. Purses his lips. He really is handsome. Gorgeous even. II would love his eyes, and demand to know his leg workout routine. III would fawn over his hands, the muscular curve of his arms. Vessel knows his partners well enough to know what they like. His lips twitch upward in a smile.
“You’re… kidding?” Ivy asks slowly, tilting his head to the side.
“If we’re on a date, then I should get to know you better, don’t you think?” Vessel chuckles, taking in the sight of Ivy’s soft looking lips as they fall open. Pure disbelief. Shock. Both. Definitely both. Vessel’s chuckle morphs into a full belly laugh as he rises from his seat, collecting their empty mugs. “I’ll go get us another drink first. Same thing?”
Ivy blinks. Sputters. Crosses his arms and puffs out of his chest. Gives him the stink eye. It’s fine. It’s endearing. It’s… the only time, other than II’s usual eyerolls, that an Omega has ever looked at him with such fire in his eyes. It makes Vessel’s chest tighten. It makes the whole situation infinitely easier. He knows why Ivy expected more. Of course he does.
An imprint.
Immediate attraction after a certain scent or action is performed by a member of the opposite secondary gender. Ivy was infatuated with him the moment he told him to kneel down in the observation room. It’s the first time in Ivy’s life, he presumes, that someone’s been able to tell him what to do. Command him. Sure, he was a child once and must have listened to his parents’ words of warning and direction, but this is something else entirely.
He can’t imagine how lonely it must have been for him. How confusing.
Maybe he can still help him after all.
“I… yeah, same thing.” Ivy answers, shaking his head. He tuts for a second, crossing his legs before he amends his words. “Please.”
Vessel smiles, gripping the mugs tighter before he pushes in his chair. He deposits the empties in a nearby bin on the counterspace of the cafe before reordering new ones. He pays and uses the excuse of pulling out his phone to access his card in order to check his text messages, the ones he preemptively sent to II and III prior to agreeing to meet with Ivy.
You: I think the Omega I’m supposed to be helping imprinted on me. He was staring at me pretty hard during the follow up. I don’t think he heard a word the doctor said. He’s really cute, though. He mentioned grabbing coffee with me when he finishes signing off on some stuff. Do my beautiful mates mind if I ask to keep in touch with him? Maybe get to know him better?
Their responses had been immediate. Supportive. They always fucking were. They understood his need. His impulses. They didn’t want to expand their pack by having pups yet, but that didn’t stop his craving of pack expansion. That’s how they wound up with III, he and II.
Maybe, just maybe, Ivy could find himself a home amongst them, too.
He seemed lost. Looking for direction. Structure. Someone to teach him how to come into his own and embrace what he is without being stifled or lauded for his mannerisms. Vessel would never want to extinguish that fire. The fight in his eyes. They looked so pretty now, even if Ivy was shocked. Surprised. Pretty even when he had tears in his eyes, tears from relief, in the hours prior.
Maybe he wasn’t the only one who fell in that moment. Maybe seeing something he had never seen before triggered something primal in him. Being a Dominant Alpha was all about domination, after all. Even still, his Alpha couldn’t help but be impressed with Ivy. A Sovereign. His commanding presence. His stern tone when had tried his best to make a demand of him. Maybe he had felt something then, too.
III:/ Have fun on ur date. Take pictures and shit. Don’t fuck on the first date and like don’t tell him bad jokes. Love u
II: So long as he understands I get spooned by you at night and doesn’t try to take that away from me, you know I’m fine with it. Also, what III said. Your jokes are ass. Love you, dork. Have a good time.
Vessel smiles to himself, clutching his phone before he slides it into his back pocket. Leave it to III to make him laugh when he’s trying to think. Trying to weigh options. Future possibilities. He doesn’t know what else he expected, but he supposes this is about as close to understanding and acceptance as he’d get without it being stated in plain English. II and III didn’t mind. Encouraged him. Loved him. Had their boundaries to set, but that was far off. Minute in the moment, but still there. He’d respect them. It’s the least he can do.
Vessel grabs the two new drinks from the barista before he heads back to the table and takes up his seat once again. Ivy thanks him softly, reaching for his mug. Vessel wraps his hands around the caramel macchiato, smirking when Ivy blushes as if he’s finally picked up on why he ordered that drink in the first place.
“I called Dr. Medwin because I’ve been looking for a mate, but it’s hard to date when you don’t know what’s wrong with you. I kept scaring off every Alpha I went on dates with because I’d not flinch, or look away, or be intimidated when they tried to show off. I think I scared a few of them, actually.” Ivy admits with a sheepish laugh. More of a bark than anything. Vessel can feel his frustration. See it in his eyes. The tremble in his fingertips.
“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Vessel disagrees with a firm shake of his head. He holds Ivy’s gaze, giving him his undivided attention. “Actually, you’re… pretty special, in a really good way. You have a survival instinct that seldom few people are blessed with. The fears that other Omegas unfortunately have to face, you… you don’t have to worry about those things. I know it might not feel this way, but you’re actually really lucky, Ivy.”
“That’s one way to look at it, but I know you’re right.” Ivy sighs, shoulders deflating. Eyes softening. Scent sweetening. Vessel feels his own rise, curling in the air in response to Ivy’s flaring scent. He finds it refreshing, how his scent doesn’t completely overwrite Ivy’s own. How it doesn’t erase it. It’s new. Exciting. Enthralling. His heartbeat quickens as he reaches for his drink, taking a sip before pushing it back to the center of the table.
“Your mate, the Omega,” Ivy starts again, chewing on his bottom lip. Vessel can’t help but notice how soft it looks. Moisturized. Glistening with lip balm and the barest hint of spit from where his tongue drags over the plush skin. Vessel clears his throat. Forces himself to refocus on Ivy and the question he’s trying to ask. “Does he have a hard time being an Omega?”
“No, but he could have. A really difficult time,” Vessel answers honestly. He sighs, head lulling backward. “But you already know what could have become of him. We were already best friends back then, went out together a couple of times. I blamed myself for a really long time after he presented. Thankfully II knows how to call me out on my bullshit and put me back together again.”
“He sounds like an impressive guy,” Ivy giggles. The sound is music to Vessel’s ears. Bright. Beautiful. Bubbly. Everything that the earlier stress in his eyes and voice wasn’t. “And II and III… they’re okay with you calling this a date?”
“They’re okay with it,” Vessel confirms, flashing Ivy a smile before he reaches for his phone. He unlocks it, shamelessly showing off his text messages. He watches Ivy mouth along to the words, blushing furiously as he reads over III’s message, before he chuckles and ducks his head. Blushing. Vessel thinks he’s blushing, too. His cheeks feel warm. His stomach feels fluttery, as if butterflies are caged beneath his skin.
“I… have to admit that I think I have a pretty big crush on you,” Ivy confesses. Flushes further. Cheeks stained a dark vermillion. Eyes nervously holding his gaze. Scent sweetening, curling into the air between them like smoke. “I know this is fast, and all that, but like… you’ve done something for me today that no one else has ever managed to. Command me. Understand me. Not get intimidated by me. Maybe other Omegas would find that annoying, being told to hit the floor on their knees by someone they don’t know, but for me?”
Ivy takes in a deep breath, exhales slowly. His eyes soften further. Melt. Vessel could drown in his stormy eyes, the shifting hues of his irises. Gray. Blue. Captivating. Emotive. Ivy raises a tattoo covered hand and rubs the skin of his own cheeks, as if he’s aware of how hard he’s blushing. Still, he makes no move to conceal it.
Vessel’s grateful for that. He wants Ivy to be comfortable. Not be ashamed of himself, or his emotions. It makes him happy to see Ivy so at ease. Sure of himself, maybe even for the first time since he’s presented.
“Things always move pretty fast in this world,” Vessel dismisses his worries with a simple, languid wave of his hand. “For what it’s worth, you saw the way I talked about you to my mates. I think you’re really cute, and I’m interested in getting to know you better, too. There’s only one small problem… I don’t live here. I live back in London. My flight leaves in… three hours.”
“I’m surprised you flew all the way here, what a terribly long way from London to Cardiff.” Ivy teases, but Vessel can see the flash of disappointment in his eyes. Smell it in the bitterness of his scent. “Thank you, by the way. For coming out here and helping me. I… It really means a lot. I wasn’t expecting… all of this,” Ivy pauses, blushing furiously as he motions between them while Vessel finishes the remainder of his fresh macchiato. This one’s caramel tastes a little more bitter on his tongue. “I am glad it happened, though.”
“I’m glad I could help,” Vessel tells him sincerely. Placating Ivy right back by lightening his scent until the floral notes cut through the bitterness of Ivy’s black coffee. “I’m… also happy that I met you. I’ve never interacted with a Sovereign Omega, or another Dominant Alpha, before. Don’t tell III I said that when you get a chance to talk to him in the future. He’d be so pissed off at me for talking about him like that. Oh, and for making bad jokes about it, too.”
“You think I’ll have a chance to embarrass you to him one day?” Ivy chuckles, covering his mouth. Eyes crinkling in the corners. He looks less sad now. More content again. It warms Vessel’s heart. He doesn’t want to leave, not yet. But he has two mates waiting for him back at home. Waiting to leave for the airport to pick him up. Cardiff is only a short flight away. Maybe today’s goodbye doesn’t have to be the end.
“I think you will,” Vessel smiles, grinning wider when Ivy goes to take a sip of his hot chocolate but spills it on the table. Too flustered from the vague promise and hope that one day, maybe things between them would continue down this path.
A path that both of them seem keen on exploring together.
-
By the time their drinks are finished, and Vessel’s cab is on its way to pick him up and deliver him to his hotel once again, Vessel’s pretty sure -no, he’s positively sure- that he’s imprinted right back at Ivy.
No questioning it, really.
Maybe he knew from the moment his knees hit the floor. Maybe from the moment he held his file in his hands. Or when he got the call. Who knows when it happened, he’s only glad that it did. He’s got plenty of stories to recant about the day when he gets back home. So much to tell his partners. His beloved mates. He can’t wait to see them. Tell them everything now that he has Ivy’s permission.
He can’t wait to tell them that this impossibly handsome man, who just so happened to be the one Sub-Type rarer than his own, also managed to imprint on him for the same reason that Dominant Alphas should have been the bane of a Sovereign’s existence. Still, Ivy didn’t seem to mind that at all. He seemed to prefer it. Told him it made him feel like an Omega, a real Omega, for the first time in his life since he presented. The knowledge makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside. Elated. His Alpha howls in his chest, content with that knowledge. Proud that it helped. Did something good.
“Hey,” Ivy calls, waving something in his face. A napkin. Black ink on it. Blue-gray eyes squint up at him. Ivy’s scent flares. Sweetens, then runs bitter. Overdone caramel. Burnt coffee. Spiced cream. “You better call me sometime.”
A command.
A would-be one.
It doesn’t work, not on him.
Ivy smiles brilliantly, eyes overwhelmingly soft and kind.
“You better get home safe,” Vessel commands right back. Smiles himself as he leans down. Kisses Ivy’s cheek. Stubble grazes against his lips, but Ivy’s skin smells like heaven up close. It feels even better against his lips. Soft. Warm. Inviting. He wouldn’t trade the sensation for the world. Ivy softens further. Looks up at him such profound appreciation. Adoration.
Vessel thinks he sees a future for them in those eyes.
“I’ll call you when I land,” Vessel promises, flashing Ivy a reassuring smile. “You can talk to II and III with me on the ride home, if you’d like. I think they’d like you a lot.”
“I’d like that,” Ivy agrees. Scent sweetening. Flourishing. Curling around him like it doesn’t want to let him go, but they both understand that for now, it has to. They have to.
The cab arrives not a moment later, tires screeching over freshly poured asphalt as they stand together beneath the gray Cardiff sky.
Its arrival should feel like a departure, but in Vessel’s eyes, all he can see is the start of something new laid out before them.