Chapter Text
When his alarm clock started blaring, Alexander leaped into action for half a second to hit the snooze before comfortably settling back into bed and promptly falling asleep once more. Two minutes later, it went off again; Alexander had nearly fallen back asleep from that one when his phone alarm went off. Groaning, the omega finally faced the inevitable and stumbled out from under the warm covers to silence it.
The air of his apartment was chilly, laced with the gentle aroma of scented candles that had since died away. It was late November, and he got cold easily – a side effect of being raised in a warmer climate.
If he were a little more responsible, he would bother to follow good sleep hygiene. He’d stop playing on his phone late into the night; he’d finish his last cup of coffee hours before it was time to pass out. But, alas, that was not the case, and he often got to sleep late in the evening. The consequences of this were that he had a tendency to set his alarm so that he would wake up as far into the morning as was physically possible for him to still get to work on time, provided he skipped breakfast and rushed out the door.
He dug through his outfits to snatch some semblance of “professional” clothing – at least, something that would look more professional if he ever bothered to iron it – before nearly falling into the bathroom. His apartment was small, but not overly so; he’d sacrificed a slightly shorter commute time for a more affordable living space, with a bedroom, bathroom, and combined living/dining/kitchen area. He liked to imagine it was cozy, but it really was all he needed, living alone. It was certainly above the average pay grade of his phenotype; omegas usually made less than betas or alphas due to their tendency to go into lower-paying lines of work.
Exactly the reason why he hid the fact he was an omega at all.
It had started one day after a rejected job application – the interviewer had all but confirmed Alexander wasn’t accepted for the finance position he’d been after, instead offering him an interview for another company department as a secretary. He’d stormed out in anger at the proposition.
And, the two weeks later when he returned for the follow up interview, it was as a new man. Hiding his body shape, attempting to grow an (admittedly) patchy goatee, wearing an angled and pressed jacket, pulling back the hair that had formerly been loose around his shoulders. He’d pulled out his glasses that he desperately needed but had gone without before, grabbed scent suppressants and cologne to cover up his omegan smell, and introduced himself as Alexander. Alex the omega was out, Hamilton the beta in. His interviewer – Mr. Washington himself, as he was going to be a personal secretary – had to have known he was an omega underneath all of that. But he said nothing about it, instead apologizing for the other department clearly messing up the application, taking a good long look at Alexander’s degree, certifications, and work experience, and hiring the man right on site for a job as an accountant.
In the bathroom he threw on dress slacks, a button-up shirt, and blue waistcoat, completed with a tie he’d thrown by his bath towel the night before. Could it be considered slightly too formal for an accounting job? Perhaps just a touch. But, when he checked himself over in the mirror, the extra layers of stiffer fabric helped to cover his natural omegan curves. After brushing his teeth, he pulled his longer hair up into a high, tight ponytail, adjusted his glasses over his nose, and squared his shoulders.
From looks alone, most people wouldn’t distinguish him from a beta. A beta, stereotyped as intelligent, sharp, witty, and while not a powerful and capable leader like an alpha, perfectly capable of day-to-day tasks. Not as soft as an omega, looking professional and clean rather than delicate, all round edges and gentle angles. Unfortunately, anyone with a half-functioning nose would know within a minute of the omega walking into the room that Alexander was not a beta. And considering he’d spent the last several years pretending eight hours a day, five days a week, to be one, that wouldn’t do.
Scents were a complex matter, but they were mainly characterized by three things: phenotype, current state, and personal undertones. The first identified the owner as an alpha, beta, or omega. The second distinguished physical and emotional state, such as whether one was scared, aroused, in pain, and other basic sensations. The final was comprised of the tiny variations that made each scent unique to its owner, allowing them to stand apart from others in the room.
He crouched down to get at the cabinet tucked underneath his bathroom sink, rooting around for peppermint oil. Omegas had a sweet scent, almost fruity. Supposedly, it was an alluring compliment to alphan’s earthy, herbal one. On the flip side, betas had a faint fresh, minty scent. The strongest , most overpowering peppermint oil he could reasonable buy was the best approximation he could get to it – after all, just as he needed to at least resemble a beta’s spearmint, he needed to cover his own scent that betrayed his true status as an omega.
Using a cotton ball, he gently dabbed it into the solution before turning his neck to the side to expose one scent gland. After washing off the area with a damp cloth, he lightly pressed the cotton to his neck, rubbing the oil into the area, doing the same to the second gland on the other side of his neck. After cleaning up the sink and walking into the kitchen, he snagged a tupperware container of leftovers from the night before to take with him to the office for lunch, tossing it into his satchel bag that currently held his notebooks and laptop. Then, he picked up the weekly pill organizer he kept beside his coffee machine. Once the coffee was going, he poured two colorful pills out of that day’s slot and onto his palm.
Essential oils couldn’t do everything to help him pass.
One of the pills he downed were, in theory, used to suppress the smell of an omega in pre-heat. Depending on the omega, pre-heat could last from one day to several, and that scent of heat would start kicking in without the symptoms associated with heat itself. Working omegas already tended to take off several every few months for their heats, and couldn’t easily justify even more for pre-heat. Luckily for his case, those pills worked just as well for suppressing his scent in everyday activities as they did for their intended purpose.
The other pill was some hormone control to pop on the side. Betas were supposed to be so level-headed because their scent naturally dispelled the pheromones of alphas and omegas. And dammit, there were a couple alphas in particular at work that could make him flinch involuntarily when they started shouting at a secretary and broadcasting general death threats to the area in their scent. A beta would back down with composure from the threat due to instinct. An omega would submit to the strongest alpha there.
He sighed, still a little bleary-eyed, and poured his coffee into his thermos. It wasn’t just his poor sleep schedule that had left him exhausted; the holidays were finally winding down, Thanksgiving having passed just a couple days ago. He was lucky enough not to work in retail, but the company didn’t just shut down on the holiday, and so he’d made damn well sure that as many of his interns and team members would be able to spend time with their families over the holiday. He didn’t have any family to spend it with in the first place, most of his friends either similarly busy or off celebrating anyway, so he was happy to make a little extra cash and guarantee someone else could spend time with their mate and family.
Besides, if the cheerful “estrus cycle” app for omegas on his phone was right (and it usually was, fortunately) his next heat would be due fairly soon. He could get through pre-heat... alright...so long as he took a little more than the recommended number of suppressants. He took the smallest dosage he could get away with as it was, but his tolerance was slowly building. If he worked more hours now, he’d be under less scrutiny when he was out for heat – as much as he would prefer to come in during them, sure that while it would be miserable he could power through – he wasn’t so sure of his personal mental state, let alone whether or not he could realistically block the smell from his alphan coworkers.
Besides, technically, omegas were legally entitled to more sick days due to their heats, bonded alphas given the same compensation to be with their needy mate. As it was, Alexander had heats more often than the average, but they thankfully lasted for a shorter time, and if he pressed himself, he could pass them off as the occasional long weekend. And, thank God, the only people in the company that knew he was omegan were his boss – Mr. Washington – and his friends. The few people that wouldn’t treat him differently knowing that his entire life was built on a lie, a sham. The few people that made sure he was never denied the days off he needed, the people who would do whatever necessary to cover him up when needed.
They were the minority, however. And if his secret got out, who knew what would happen? For all he knew, he’d be forcibly demoted, or harassed at work, or shamed in front of everyone. Omegas could work, were capable in certain areas of expertise. But for one to have the gal to pretend to be something they weren’t-!
What was worse was that he was starting to worry he wouldn’t be able to hide it forever. Not from his immediate team members, nor from the alphan managers he so commonly worked with, and especially not the damn human resources manager who seemed to be getting into his business more and more often as of late.
Thomas liked to imagine that he had a good eye for people. It was how he had first gotten his job as a human resources manager, something that left him in charge of interviews, hiring, working with staff and administration alike. His natural leadership tendencies that came packaged with being an alpha allowing him to, at least in his mind, effectively spearhead the teams under his jurisdiction and keep the company running smoothly.
If nothing else, he quite enjoyed his job. His career expertise had carefully taught him how to work alongside other alphas, rather than be at their throats. The betas on the staff, while not destined to work with the ambition of an alpha such as himself, were every bit as intelligent as he expected from the phenotype characterized by their noses being stuck in books day in and day out, perpetually level-headed, naturally less affected by pheromones, minty scents cancelling them out. And the omegas...well, he had to reluctantly admit that few were employed under him, mostly in the jobs that left them dealing with the public: they were cute and soft, and wasn’t that really all they were looking for when dealing with irate customers? Admittedly, he had considered making a move one of the secretaries (the name was Lafayette, if he was recalling correctly). That fling had begun when the omega showed up to work while in pre-heat and had ended when Lafayette’s alphan friend – not even one bonded to the secretary! – had “kindly” threatened to bite Thomas’ head off if he even looked at the omega the wrong way.
Thomas offhandedly greeted a younger betan intern that had recently been assigned to his department as he walked in. Said intern quickly sat up a little straighter at the alpha’s voice, the tiniest twinge of anxiety bleeding into his scent. To most others, it would have been almost unnoticeable, but alphas were naturally good at picking out the tiniest variations in the scents of others. Supposedly, that little tidbit had initially evolved to help them keep an eye on the state of any possible competitors.
But this was modern times, not some science article referring to the intricacies of prehistory. Not only that, but Thomas’s nose was particularly good – so powerful, in fact, that crowded places could sometimes give him a headache. First thing in the morning in the still nearly-empty office, however, things were settled enough for him to use his unique skill to his advantage, smiling and politely wishing the beta a good morning before walking on. The intern relaxed slightly at that, and Thomas continued down the hallway towards his office.
That was why he was so great working with people. It was the smallest twinges of fear, or interest, or confidence that caught his eye. Yes, his sense of smell had its disadvantages, but to so perfectly read the involuntary undertones of those he worked alongside could only be considered an asset. And it worked wonders with every person on staff he worked with, whether they were under his jurisdiction or not. He could see what made them tick, what made them twitch , and use that to get what he wanted.
Well, that little trick worked on most people.
Alexander Hamilton came strolling down the hallway in the opposite direction, laptop bag slung over his shoulder. Hamilton, a beta, and lead accountant. If it were up to Thomas, he would never even look at the damn man, but unfortunately Alexander had the final say in everything from budget to payroll. A position that, in his opinion, was a little too much for a beta that stood only as tall as an omega yet had the ego of an alpha. Unfortunately, he had to concede that it made sense for a position dealing with crunching numbers and balancing spreadsheets to be filled by a beta, and when it came down to it, Hamilton did report directly to Thomas’ own boss, Mr. Washington, so it wasn’t as if he were totally unrestrained – although he certainly seemed to be favored by their boss, having had worked there for a few years longer than Thomas.
An overwhelming scent of peppermint filled his nose as the beta passed by, and he grimaced. Betas normally had a slightly minty scent, but that was in tandem with the other undertones that defined them; this beta, on the other hand, infuriatingly only smelled like peppermint. Did the guy bathe in essential oils!?
And thus was the problem of Hamilton: a man who was perfectly understandable, but by words alone. He expressed his emotions with a loud mouth, but the tiny offences and discomfort Thomas looked for in scent went unnoticed, hidden. Thomas could never quite get a reading on the man’s personal scent, that damn peppermint drowning everything else out. Even worse was the smell alone; it would be bearable to anyone else, but with Thomas’ particularly sensitive nose, hanging around the accountant for too long was nauseating. His office was just as bad; the beta, for some incomprehensible reason, would always have the fan going and the windows open. Whether it was the middle of summer or the coldest night of the year, his office would smell like nothing except a faint smidge of peppermint, the variable temperatures surely miserable for the sharply-dressed beta.
A man so obsessed with drowning away any lingering fragrances that he sacrificed his own health to do it.
And perhaps that was the very center of Thomas’ little personal problem regarding the beta: the fact that Thomas was, very unfortunately, very minorly attracted to the guy. Whether it was genuine interest or just a desire for someone he could never pull under his thumb and get a good read of, it was annoying, especially with how the way the beta reeked and burned his nose.
He wondered what the beta’s natural scent was like.
Then, he wondered if he’d ever get to taste it, beta wrapped around him – small as he was, small as an omega...
“What’s wrong, Jefferson? Too early for a big, important alpha like you to be skulking around the office?” Hamilton not-too-helpfully asked, one hand on his hips and an eyebrow cocked. He looked tired, and annoyed, as always. Even beyond the mint – he must put it directly on his scent glands, or something – the faint, dirty smell of the metro clung to him.
“Just wondering why it smells like you stuffed an entire mint plant up your ass,” he answered, the beta’s eye twitching, before continuing his stroll down to his office. He noticed the fact that the beta wasn’t wearing anything to cover his arms except for a thin button-down shirt under his waistcoat. For God’s sake; it was almost December! The man would freeze to death.
Well. At least if the obnoxious beta did freeze, he wouldn’t be right up Thomas’ tail anymore. He shoved past the beta and unlocked his office door, stepping inside and shutting it forcefully, rubbing at his temples as that smell dispersed. His office was on an internal hallway, meaning that his options for de-scenting the room were limited, and he didn’t want to have that beta’s smell in his mind any more often than it needed to be.
Not just because of how oppressively annoying it was, but because of how every few months he’d find it was suddenly not quite as repulsive as normal. Maybe even a little... tantalizing, so faintly reminiscent of an omega in heat – not that Thomas was currently with an omega in the first place. He presumed that was simply about the time the beta was running out of that overwhelming peppermint oil; if nothing else, the beta would take a few days off every now and then (occasionally, albeit fairly rarely, coinciding with that secretary that was apparently off-limits to Thomas; he couldn’t help but wonder if the beta helped Lafayette through his heats every now and then).
He booted up his laptop, thankful for the SSD making it so that the computer was ready to go in seconds, rather than minutes. Once the screen flashed to life and he logged in, he pulled up his inbox to root through the emails he’d gotten overnight. This was part of the reason he came into work early; he was busy most of the day, and wanted to respond to the influx of emails from yesterday before the bulk of the day staff showed up. Idly, he chewed his cheek as he clicked through his inbox.
One of the departments had a relatively vital position open up and needed to get hiring and job postings sorted out. A new manager for a lower team was coming in, and Washington wanted to get some of the alphan team leaders to participate in a training, which he needed to organize. Term review surveys needed to be handed out; he personally loathed tallying up responses on paper, deciding he’d instead put together a digital form and send it out in a mass email. Sorting most of his emails out, he jotted most of his extra work for the day down on a notepad. Just as he was finishing up, one more popped up, and he tapped his pencil on the edge of his desk in annoyance as he waited for it to load, checking the time on his watch. A bit after eight AM. If he wanted to tap into the frankly disgusting, but free, coffee in the break room before he started work, he should probably look into it soon.
The email was from Mr. Washington. The alpha was intimidating, in charge of the entire company site. It wasn’t marked as priority mail, but he knew damn well not to keep the man waiting, and he skimmed over the contents.
It started off simply enough. Washington was informing him that Alexander had tentatively scheduled three days off next week – Thomas grumbled under his breath and rolled his eyes; the beta seemed always pick the worst dates for these impromptu vacations – and Washington was encouraging them to meet up and discuss payroll and benefits information before the week was up, just in case Alexander had to take off time earlier than expected (for reasons he naturally was not at liberty to disclose).
Groaning at the thought of having to interact with the man, he scribbled the payroll issue down at the bottom of his list. Part of his job description included sorting out these sorts of discrepancies and working things out with the beta, but he didn’t necessarily want have to deal with it today, and was going to use that buffer time.
Still, those last few sentences itched at the back of his mind. In case he took time off earlier than expected. Thomas had maintained a fine professional relationship with that secretary, Lafayette, and knew he wasn’t due for a heat for quite some time – that in itself wasn’t major knowledge to have, as he was the one who scheduled others to cover for the omega during his heats. But, that also meant that if there was some link between the two (they did seem to get along surprisingly well), such a thing wasn’t the cause of his soon-to-be absence. So...why exactly was Alexander in such a hurry to leave?
He snorted, standing up and heading out of his office for coffee. He certainly wasn’t one to go sniffing for drama, but he had to admit...he was a little curious as to what the beta had to hide.
And if that “crush” of his refused to dissipate, then he’d just make the most of it.