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“Old man, huh?”
“Yeah, he just moved in.” The kid nodded, wiping the sweat from his brow. Ethan was his name, a tiny alpha that took after his father. No doubt he’d grow up to be only thesupremest of alphas and suppress every emotion that wasn’t rough aggressive lust, but as of now, Ethan looked scared, and the innocence put a small smile on Alfred’s lips. “Nobody goes there. Once the ball’s on that lawn, we ain’t gettin’ it back.”
Alfred let his hand ruffle the little alpha’s sweat-damp hair as he glanced over at the place in question, a house pale in comparison to the ones around it. Bland walls, primly-cut grass, and not one flag adorning the porch- It was an astonishment, really. Especially in a neighborhood like theirs where patriotism upon lawns was something of an unspoken competition.
The pruned, almost plastic-perfect rose bushes framing the front yard were the only signs of a human inhabitant.
“And your friend kicked the ball there?”
The ‘friend’ looked sheepish, feet shuffling as his head hung low, “Yessir.”
Alfred sighed. It was the fact that the sun was beating down on him- the air was humid and he was wearing the shortest socially-acceptable shorts he owned, and he was still blistering. That’s why he furrowed his brows.
Not because he was frightened of a stupid children’s local legend, which seemed to be the fate of the poor man who lived in that bland old house.
“Charlie from next door saw him once- said his eyes glowed in the dark!”
Kids had nothing better to do than sit around and spin tall tales.
“None of you will go get it yourselves?”
A unanimous nod.
Alfred spared one last glance at the house before checking his watch. There were sadly still a few hours left until the kid’s parents came home. It was bad enough being branded the bachelor alpha of the neighborhood- but it seemed as if he’d been assigned the job of looking after kids while their married parents went out and had fun.
Alfred Jones, babysitter extraordinaire.
What? A life? No, Alfred had no such thing. It only served to make him better sitter-material, and also as a teeny tiny incentive to desperately throw himself at any chance of a relationship.
Maybe if he found someone to grossly make-out with, parents would be less eager to leave their kids with him.
It was a rather selfish thought, Alfred admitted it. He really did love kids! But perhaps a few to call his own? Maybe a smiling face to come home to after a long day’s work… was that too much to ask?
He supposed that until then, he had this ragtag group of ankle-biters to tame.
“Sit tight, I’ll go get it then.”
What was there to be scared about?
A chorus of dramatic gasps followed. The kids flung themselves at him like magnets and sobbed into his shirt.
“No! Mr. Jones, what if you die!”
“Hey, the quicker I get that ball back, the quicker you can get back to your game, what’s it gonna be?”
Suddenly his death didn’t matter to the kids. Alfred found himself being shoved off the porch he’d been standing on, forced in the general direction of the eerily picturesque house a few yards down.
“Wh- hey! Slow down!”
That must’ve been quite a ball.
Now he was stepping onto the perfectly white, pristinely spotless path that led up to the door. The kids had abandoned him a few feet ago- it was expected of them, but Alfred couldn’t help feeling hurt nevertheless.
Suddenly he was seven again and that house cast shadows that sent chills down his spine (despite the fact that it was mid-afternoon). He felt a hot breeze flutter against the back of his neck and Alfred shuddered, knuckles hovering up to the wooden door… he could practically hear the kids behind him suck in a breath, hiding behind one another as they left Alfred bare to the elements.
Traitors.
He knocked.
Alfred couldn’t deny the extent to which he skittered backward as the door swung open. Like a roach in the blinding light, the alpha was terrified.
Well, startled out of his mind maybe. Terrified? Only after a stern, piercing green gaze tore into him seconds after.
“Is there a problem?”
Alfred forgot his alphabet. Lips parted for a sharp breath as a frail man emerged from the brooding darkness on the inside of the house. Alfred could feel the air conditioning hit him like a brick.
His eyes really could glow in the dark.
Realizing the fact that he could catch stray dogs if his jaw hung any lower, Alfred snapped his mouth shut, shuffling around sheepishly before deciding on offering the man a winning smile.
Creepy old man or not, the guy was kinda hot.
Where Alfred had imagined wrinkles stood two sharp, defined cheekbones. What had to be graying hair going by the campfire-stories he’d heard from those kids, was instead a pale, pretty blond. Like soft strands of spun gold. Smooth, pale lips quirked down in a frown and the guy crossed his arms.
“Hello?”
Oh god, that spy movie villain-worthy British accent. Alfred was a puddle.
And that scent! Sweet- yet not overbearingly so. The scent of sandalwood and rose petals, a telltale allure that could only belong to an omega.
“Uhn- uh, um…”
Those were words, right?
“If you’re here about that lousy football, I will not be returning it. The muddy thing ruined my rosebush.”
Alfred could only imagine the look on those kids’ faces- features twisted into expressions of disbelief…. However, Alfred found that he didn’t care one bit.
He was significantly more interested in the way that green sweater hung off the stranger’s wiry frame. It would’ve been hideous on anyone else, but Alfred found that he didn’t mind the way the neck of it stretched to reveal slight collarbones. He was small enough to fit right into Alfred’s muscled arms, or at least that’s what the alpha decided.
Perhaps he’d been emitting scents that mirrored his infatuation, because the stranger’s face pickled further and he retreated slightly behind his door.
“With that final statement, good day.”
“Uhh- A- Alfred.” He blurted out.
Silence.
“What?”
“That’s my name. Alfred.”
The door opened wider and the man peeked back out again, “Jolly good for you, then. Now shoo, Alfred.”
His knees were officially jelly. Alfred’s name had never been more appealing to him in his entire life, despite the baleful look on the face of the man who uttered it.
“And uh, what do I call you?”
The door once again halted in its motion to shut in his face and Alfred cheered internally. No doubt the kids hiding behind him were impatient now, but he couldn’t care less.
The mystery man frowned. “I hardly think we’ll be conversing again after this, so there’s no need for formalities.” And then he put his hands on his hips, words coming out calm and patronizing, “To summarize: no ball, get your kids off my lawn.”
He should’ve been crushed, but that babying tone… that snappy attitude Alfred rarely saw in single omegas these days-
Or at least Alfred hoped he was single. He was utterly smitten already, it would break his heart otherwise.
The assumption in mind, Alfred smirked like a man with one last trick up his sleeve. He would not be going down without an impression.
“I guess I’ll just have to call you something generic then. Babe? Sweetheart?”
He was unashamedly proud of that line. Alfred was convinced it was top-notch suave material, but the omega seemed to think otherwise. He cocked a thick brow.
“That was lame. Try again.”
At this point, Alfred was having too much fun to acknowledge the impatient poking to his back.
“Hey! Give me a break, I can hardly form sentences looking straight at you.”
A small blush, a smaller smile. Old man defeated.
“Better, but still no dice,” was the response. Alfred mock pouted as the man shuffled around behind his door, emerging with a tattered, dirty soccer ball. “I’ll reward you this for your feeble attempts.”
Outrage! Alfred was grinning now, folding his arms as the tugging on his shirt grew incessant. “You can keep the ball, then. I’ll earn it when I find a line to your fancy.”
“Mr. Jones!” Came the complaining shrieks, all in impatient unison. Alfred had forgotten his mission, it seemed.
The stranger knelt, rolling the ball down the small steps. It bounced in the direction of the antsy kids who’d taken to glaring holes into Alfred’s back. That seemed to sate them- they went squealing off and Alfred was now truly alone, a slave to the captivatingly inviting scent that this stranger was now giving off in his direction. It also seemed that Alfred wasn’t the only one interested.
“Arthur,” the omega said, and the door swung shut, leaving a confused Alfred in its wake.
Suddenly, this bland old man was very interesting indeed.