Archive of Our Own

Sammie feels… something humming underneath his skin. Has been since this morning, in fact-- since the moment he had thrown his suitcase in Pearline’s trunk and they sped off towards the highway before the streetlights blinked off in the dawn.

The feeling is—uncomfortable. Warm, but distracting. It’s almost an itch, really, but Sammie can’t place the source of it. His heats only come once or twice a year, and he isn’t due for another two months.

He’s been trying to ignore it, but the sensation has only gotten worse during the last couple of hours. Sammie feels… like something’s calling him. But he doesn’t know what. And it’s not like Sammie can just get up and start investigating.

He’s in the middle of a game, after all.

“Sammie.” Jess says, her blue eyes sparkling. “Truth or dare?”

Sammie might be nursing a drink, but he isn’t too drunk anymore. And he isn’t stupid. (Most of the time.) If there’s one thing Sammie’s cousins taught him, it was never let a white person dare him to do anything.

“Truth.” Sammie says, taking a sip from his solo cup.

After an evening of shots, weed, and music, the group is winding down a bit, opting to not go too hard on their first night in the Airbnb. They’ve rented it out for the holiday weekend, and plan to get a lot of use out of it.

Well, the rest of the them, anyway. Sammie doesn’t exactly enjoy being one of two single people in a group of six, but he didn’t let Pearline talk him into coming upstate—far upstate—to hook up.

Really, Sammie just wants a break. He’s in his final semester at college and his days are packed to the brim. Class in the morning, work in the afternoon, gigs at night, homework where he can fit it in. He’s exhausted, most of the time, but Sammie keeps pushing towards his goal. He needs to save up enough money to move away after graduation, to get out from under the oppressive watch of his cousins. But one thing at a time.

Jess leans across the coffee table, littered with bottles, playing cards, and ash from discarded cigarettes. “What's your deepest, darkest secret?”

Sammie pauses. Then he laughs, deep and rich. Pearline, draped across his shoulder, laughs along with him.

“He's a preacher's kid.” Pearline teases. “He don't have no secrets.” 

“That's more of a reason for him to have secrets, not less.” Nina giggles, already drunk.

“But wouldn’t… like, wouldn’t that be what a pree-cher’s kid would want ya to think?” Brad chimes in.

“Dude, what are you talking about?” Thompson says, without looking up from his phone.

“I dunno.” Brad shrugs, then belches as he crushes his beer can.

Lord help Sammie. These aren’t exactly his first choice of people to hang out with on a Saturday night, but he’s not having a bad time necessarily. Brad, Jess, and Nina are mostly Pearline’s friends—well, actually, they’re Pearline’s boyfriend’s Thompson’s friends. And since they’re his friends, they’re her friends too.

Thompson is on Pearline’s right, in jeans and a Bulls jersey, his arm draped across the back of the sofa behind her as he scrolls through his phone. He’s a tall, attractive alpha, with smooth dark skin and dreads in a low ponytail. Thompson has never been anything but polite to Sammie. But he has a wandering eye and a general air of disinterest about him, which makes Sammie annoyed and protective over Pearline.

Anyway. The game.

The thing is, Nina is right; Sammie has more secrets than he can hardly keep track of.

He's not a beta, for one thing-- even though everyone in this room thinks he is. Sammie rules out sharing that secret immediately. It’s not important and never will be.

Two—Sammie isn’t supposed to be up here. He’s supposed to be at his apartment that his cousins pay for back in Chicago, and he’s not allowed to leave the city without telling them.

Only Pearline knows that. It’s why they had to leave early in the morning, before Smoke could drive by his apartment and see that his car isn’t there, before Stack could follow up at Pearline’s and see that Sammie’s car is there but Pearline’s is gone. Sammie’s 21 and he still has to sneak out like a thief in the night just to have some fun. It’s partially Sammie’s fault, but still—they need to ease up.

But Sammie sure as hell isn’t gonna share that secret with the group. It’s humiliating.

Which brings Sammie to his third secret: He has a stalker. 

It’s a recent development. He’s only been stalked for a couple of weeks. And Sammie has a hunch—or a prayer—that he knows who it is, so it isn’t troubling him all that much.

heard you playin at the gladstone the other night. sounded so beautiful

saw you with your omega friend. i don’t like y’all drinking and stayin out so late. no decent alpha to protect yall

you need me baby. gonna come get you real soon

Sammie plans on keeping that to himself, too. If Thompson finds out that Sammie’s stalker has been mentioning Pearline, he’s not gonna be all too happy with Sammie, regardless of how checked-out he is from the relationship.

Jess’s eyes glitter. “Something you're really ashamed of.”

That resonates with Sammie. It makes him think of--

—His fourth secret. The face of an alpha flashes in Sammie’s mind. Dark hair, freckled skin, a southern accent whispering filth into Sammie’s ear. The alpha he’s not supposed to think about, but Sammie does anyway. A lot.

Sammie bites his lip.

“Come on, Sammie.” Nina whines. “You never talk about yourself!”

 Maybe it’s because the drinks have gotten him nice and relaxed, leaning against Pearline on the sofa. Maybe it’s because of the hum under his skin and the thoughts of that alpha that have been keeping him up at night.

Maybe it’s because Sammie doesn’t really get the chance to do this, has spent the last three years at school with his head down, keeping to himself, staying out of trouble—until he met Pearline last year, and remembered what it was like to feel free again.

Sammie is tired of keepin’ secrets, really. A confession or two might be good for him.

“Well…” Sammie starts, setting his solo cup on the coffee table. “…I was, uh… seein’ someone. Summer after high school graduation. They was—older.”

“Oooh.” Everyone choruses, and Sammie smiles despite himself.

This alpha—Sammie had seen him around his cousin’s juke joint sometimes. Staring hot and hungry whenever Sammie performed. Knew Sammie wasn’t a beta right off the bat.

“Pretty omega with a voice like that… you gotta let me taste you, please sugar. Just once. I promise, just this one time.”

And Sammie was young, livin’ free in the prime of his life before heading off to college. He liked Remmick’s attention, liked it a whole lot. Of course he had said yes.

“A cougar, huh?” Brad snickers, and his girlfriend giggles in response. Sammie can see Pearline roll her eyes. He hums.

“My family wouldn’t have approved. So we snuck around a lot…”

Just once became weekly. And then nearly every day, until Sammie was spending most nights at Remmick’s apartment. Until his family didn’t know where the hell he was, half the time.

Until the twins got involved in the worst way possible, busting down Remmick’s door to find them intimately locked together.

It was—

--a big mess. Apparently the relationship between Remmick and the twins was tenuous at best—business related, Sammie pieced together.

“But then, my family found out. And they were pissed. My cousins, they…” Sammie carefully parses what to divulge. “…they know a lot of people in the city. Law enforcement. They had Rem- they had this person arrested on bullshit charges. Unlawful imprisonment. I was already at school by the time it went to trial, but—”

The confession is heavy on Sammie’s tongue. Pearline watches him, her gaze steady. “—but my cousins, they wrote up a statement and made me sign it. Their lawyer read it to the judge, and—”

Sammie's shoulders drop. He releases a long breath. That’s his biggest shame. Three years and some months ago, Sammie had a short-lived affair with the alpha of his dreams and somehow ended up sending him to prison. The guilt washes over him, and all Sammie can do is sit with it.

“Damn, dude. You sent that MILF to jail?” Brad says. “Harsh.”

“Yeah. They—didn’t deserve that. Any of it. And it’s my fault, so—” Sammie shrugs, gives a sad little smile. “That’s my secret.”

“I didn’t know you went through that, Sammie.” Pearline says, soft and comforting against his shoulder. Even Thompson looks sympathetic.

“So that must be why you never hook up with anyone! The trauma of putting your first love in prison…” Nina sighs dramatically. “C'est tragique!”

“Y-yeah. Exactly.” Sammie lies. It's not that he hasn't tried to move on. But he just can’t. There’s no one like Remmick on campus. No one like him in the world, probably.

“Jeez, Sammie.” Jess gives him a soft look for half a second, then tipsily falls back against the opposite sofa. “Okay, your turn! Ask someone truth or dare.”

“Uh…”  Before he can choose, Sammie’s phone buzzes on the coffee table in front of him. Smoke’s name appears on the screen; Sammie winces. Fuck. He had been dreading this call.

“You pick for me. I gotta take this.” Sammie sighs and reaches for his phone. Pearline watches him, concerned as her friend stands up and steps over Nina on the ground to take the call in another room.

Sammie slips into the kitchen and shuts the door behind him.

“Smoke?”

His cousin’s voice comes through the line, fuzzy with static but with no room for argument. “Where the fuck are you.”

“At a party.” Sammie moves idly around the modern, functional kitchen, peeking curiously through the drawers.

“Where.”

“Upstate.” Sammie says, bracing himself for the lecture. “I’m with Pearline and Thompson.”

 “Who the fuck said you could go upstate without tellin’ nobody—"

Sammie rolls his eyes, growing more annoyed by the second. Why does he still have to put up with this shit? He wishes it were spring already, so he could graduate and get the hell out of Chicago for a while. Out from under the overbearing watch of his controlling alpha cousins.

“It’s fine, Smoke. I’m bein’ careful.”

“Send me the address.”

No fucking way Sammie’s going to do that. It’s only for a few days. Who cares if Sammie spends a weekend upstate? He’s grown now, and he’s not looking to get himself into trouble. Doesn’t really want to, since Remmick isn’t in the picture anymore.

Stop thinking about him.

“What?” Sammie asks, playing innocent. “I can’t hear you, Smoke.”

“Don’t FUCK with me Sammie. I said send the goddamn—”

Sammie hangs up on his cousin. Enough already.

He's tired of keeping secrets. Tired of having to explain himself. 

Sammie turns back down the hall, hoping he can just relax for once.

Distracted, Sammie heads back to the living room—but then stops at the doorframe.

Someone had turned the music off.

Jess and Nina are huddled by the window, peering out from behind the curtain, giggling every now and then. Thompson and Pearline are standing a bit farther away, looking—uncomfortable. Brad is digging around in the cooler for another beer.

“…Um.” Sammie blinks. “What’s goin’ on?”

“Someone rang the doorbell.” Pearline tells Sammie as he approaches the couple. There’s a wary expression on her face. “It was… some guy.”

“An alpha.” Thompson divulges. Similar to Pearline, he looks uncharacteristically serious, his phone tucked away in his pocket. “He asked if he could come in and drink with us.”

“Told him to fuck off!” Brad yells, popping the cap off his beer by hooking it over the edge of the table and slamming his hand down on the top. Jess and Nina cheer loudly. Nina taps her phone and the music starts up again, louder than before.

Temporarily forgotten, that strange feeling, that hum under Sammie’s skin now resumes in full force. Biting his lip, Sammie does his best to push it aside, settling back onto the couch and reaching for his drink.

It’s well past midnight, and Sammie is thinking of turning in. He’s had his fill of watching Brad and Thompson doing stupid physical dares, has had enough of the hard-to-follow gossip that Jess, Nina, and Pearline share whenever one of them picks truth. Sammie is ready to dare everyone to go to bed.

But then—

--the power unexpectedly goes out. The living room is instantly plunged into complete darkness, leaving the six of them stunned.

“What the hell?” Nina says, still somewhere on the floor. Sammie feels her hand thwack against his leg, and he moves away, rustling for his phone. He turns on the flashlight.

“What’s going on?” Pearline asks. “Did we blow a fuse? We barely had any lights on…”

“I think I saw some candles in the kitchen.” Sammie remembers, rising to his feet. “Hold on.”

He carefully makes his way back to the kitchen. The display of his silenced phone shows seven more missed calls from Smoke.

Rolling his eyes again, Sammie opens the drawer and gathers up several candles and their bases. He realizes that his hands are shaking a bit, and he pauses.

The buzz under his skin is stronger now. Sammie is hyper-aware of his heart beating steadily in his chest. Can almost feel another heartbeat, beating in tandem nearby. Sammie looks out of the window but sees no one.

Closing the drawer, he takes a deep breath to steady himself.

Get it together.

Sammie returns to the living room  with the candles, handing them out to Pearline and Nina. While Jess complains about getting ripped off by the Airbnb host, the three of them set the candles up around the room, casting the area in a shadowy golden glow.

Brad crushes another beer, belches again, then looks slyly towards Thompson. “Dare you to go check the fuse box in the basement by yourself.”

“Hell no.” Thompson snaps playfully. “Dare you to go by yourself. Double dog dare you.”

“No way, man!” Brad laughs. “I triple dog dare you—"

“Maybe we should call it a night.” Pearline sniffs.

“Um… guys?” Jess says. She’s over at the window again, peering out from behind the curtain. “That alpha is back.”

Sammie drops the lighter he was holding, accidentally kicking it under a bookshelf. He whips his head around immediately, grateful for the shadows providing cover for his embarrassing reaction.

Calm down. It’s not… him. It can’t be him…

Everyone else crowds around the windows once more. Sammie is the last to join them, taking slow steps as if he’s en route to his own funeral.

He raises his head. And then—

Oh. It’s him, alright.

Remmick.

Standing in the porch lights of the cabin as casual as anything. His familiar dark green truck is parked just over by the trees, near the other cars.

Sammie’s heart stops in his chest.

Remmick is wearing a navy jumpsuit with a wifebeater underneath, filling both garments out nicely. He looks—bigger than Sammie remembers. Healthier, too. Sammie bites his lip.

And Remmick’s staring right at him, wide grin across his handsome face. He raises a hand and waves.

It feels like Sammie’s head is underwater. Pearline’s friends are chattering all around him, but Sammie can’t hear what they’re saying. He grips the windowsill tightly, overcome with emotion. That strange hum under his skin is practically screaming at him, but a new feeling has arisen as well:

Fear.

This can’t be happening. How can this be happening?

Why is Remmick here? For Sammie, obviously. But why tonight? Why now? And what does he want?

The twins said Remmick was dangerous, but Remmick had never done anything to hurt Sammie. And Sammie still—he still signed that goddamned statement, knowing exactly what he was doing—

What does Remmick want from him? It can’t be just to talk. Why show up in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of the night just to talk?

Does Remmick want revenge on Sammie? He said some pretty hurtful things to Sammie in his letters, for the first few months at least.

why the fuck did you do this to us sammie

you got me all twisted up

gonna make you regret this. you ruined us

Is that why he’s here? To make Sammie regret signing that letter, lying and letting everyone believe he didn’t want Remmick nearly as badly as his did?

And if yes—does Sammie deserve that?

I guess I do, Sammie thinks miserably. He had been thinking about Remmick for some time now, thinking about the next time they’d see each other—but it wasn’t supposed to be like this. Sammie had never imagined it would be like this.

What is Remmick doing?

“Seems like y’all are experiencin’ a power outage.” Remmick calls, still grinning wide, sticking his hands into his pockets. “I could come in and take a look at it, if you like.”

At the sound of the alpha’s voice it’s like Sammie is resurfacing again, coming back to himself. “Don’t let him in.” He whispers, finally releasing the windowsill and moving outside of the line of sight.

“What the fuck is going on.” Pearline mutters, backing away similarly from the window. “Why does he wanna come in so bad?”

“Brad!” Jess shakes her boyfriend’s shoulder. “Do something!”

“Whaddya want me to do?” Brad blinks at her.

“Go, like, chase him off or something!”

“I’m not doin’ that.” Brad shakes his head. “Just leave him. Probably just some local trying to scare us.”

“Oh my God.” Jess shoves at her boyfriend. “Useless!”

Sammie watches the exchange with wide eyes. Then something clicks to him.

Pearline’s—Thompson’s—friends are very, very drunk.

Stupid drunk.

Which means—

Before Sammie can stop her, Jess throws open the cabin windows and sticks her head outside. “What do you want, you fuckin’ creep?” She hollers.

Remmick answers her politely, seemingly pleased by the question. “Felt like celebratin’. That’s all.”

“Celebratin’ what?”

“Early release.” Remmick’s grin grows wider. “After three years I’m finally a free man. And I’m gon’ see my omega real soon.”

Oh my God. A cold sweat breaks out on the back of Sammie’s neck. No, no, it ain’t supposed to be like this--

“So go see your omega then!” Jess yells. “Leave us alone!”

“Well—that’s why I’m here, ain’t it?” Remmick replies. “Just waitin’ for ’em to come out.”

Oh my God Oh my God Oh my God. Sammie is frozen in place. He can’t move at all.

Jess and Nina look at each other, befuddled. “You know him?” They both ask in unison, then shake their heads.

Brad is thinking hard, his face scrunched up in concentration. “What about you, Pearline?”

“I don’t know that alpha from a can of paint.” Pearline shoots back.

“So what the fuck is bro talking about.” Thompson mutters. He backs away from the window, pulling Pearline with him, a protective arm around her waist. She looks up at her boyfriend, surprised.

Remmick is happy to explain.

“Came all this way just to see my omega in person. It ain’t safe for us to talk in Chicago, right darlin’?” Remmick’s voice softens to something sympathetic, familiar. “Followed you up here so we can get some privacy.”

Sammie feels like he might cry. What does that mean, what does he mean? Privacy for what? Remmick is speaking directly to Sammie now, and even as fear courses through Sammie’s veins there’s still some primal omega part of him that is so, so glad Remmick came for him. That even if Remmick’s here for revenge, at least he was thinking about Sammie.

Sammie shuts his eyes tightly. No, that ain’t right… he shouldn’t be here, I shouldn’t be…

“I know you been missin’ me, sugar.” Remmick calls, rocking back on his heels. “Come on out when you ready. I’ll be waitin’ out here.”

Sammie still can’t move. His omega instincts are louder than they’ve ever been, mixed messages crossing over each other like live wires. That’s your alpha, go to him—no, DANGER, that’s danger--

Standing against the wall, Sammie can’t do anything but bury his head in his hands. No one notices his reaction. Thompson and Pearline have moved across the room and are arguing about something next to a flickering candle. Nina and Jess have their heads together, going over every alpha they’ve ever hooked up with and trying to match their descriptions to Remmick. And Brad is standing next to Jess, swaying on his feet and eyeing the beer cooler.

“I mean… not that I would mind being his omega.” Nina divulges, entirely unprompted. “Like… he’s kinda cute, right?”

Unexpectedly, Sammie feels a flash of possessive anger so strong that it nearly takes his breath away. He tears himself away from the wall, stumbling back a few paces.

“I mean, yeah, but—look at him! He’s like a serial killer or something.” Jess clings onto Brad’s arm.

Sammie fights the urge to hiss at them both.

“Sammie. Sammie!”

Sammie shakes out of his daze at the sound of his name being whispered urgently from across the room. He hadn’t realized that Pearline and Thompson had moved so far away from the rest of the group. They’re waving him over frantically, and Sammie quickly crosses the room to meet them.

“This shit has officially gotten too weird.” Thompson informs Sammie.

“We’re gonna sneak out the kitchen door and walk back to town.” Pearline elaborates urgently. “Get help for the others. Come on, you ready to go?”

Of course Pearline would be devising a plan while Sammie stood there, having an emotional breakdown. Sammie feels even worse. Pearline just wanted to party with her friends and make sure her boyfriend didn’t cheat on her. She doesn’t deserve to be frightened like this.

Ashamed, Sammie brings a hand up to the back of his neck. “I… can’t go with y’all.”

“Why not?”

Sammie lowers his eyes. The Airbnb has become his own personal confession booth, it seems.

“Cause I… I’m the omega he wants.”

“What?” Both Thompson and Pearline look at Sammie, wide-eyed. “But you’re a—”

Sammie shakes his head.

“Sammie. All this time?”

“It ain’t—important.” Sammie presses his lips together. “Wasn’t important, until now. But if I leave with y’all, he gon’ follow us.”

“So…” Pearline starts. “…that person you was tellin’ us about earlier…”

“That’s him.” Sammie confirms. “His name is Remmick.”

“Didn’t expect him to be white.” Thompson mutters.

“Thompson.” Pearline hisses, but Sammie laughs a little. Pearline puts her hand on his, and then she giggles too, breaking the tension just a bit.

That’s two secrets off of his chest. Sammie feels a little lighter, despite everything.

“You think he’s gon’ try to hurt us, to get to you?”

“I dunno.” Sammie whispers.

“Did you know? That he was let outta prison?”

Sammie remembers the texts he’s been getting and suddenly feels terrible all over again. Because he did know, didn’t he? He was hoping it was Remmick, back outside, ready to pick up where they left off. But he didn’t want it like this. Didn’t want anyone else to get involved.

It all crashes over him at once. Sammie buries his head in his hands, sliding down the wall and bringing his knees up to his chest.

“Oh, Sammie.” Pearline is crouching down next to him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “It’s okay.” She soothes.

Sammie wipes his face, his voice hoarse. “I should just go to him.”

“Nah.” Thompson’s expression is serious. “We not letting you do that, Sammie.”

“It’s gon’ be fine.” Pearline reassures. “Look— here’s what’s gonna happen. Those dumbasses are bound to do something stupid, and when they do, you slip out the kitchen door and run like hell. Got it?”

Sammie sniffs, looking at Pearline and Thompson with watery eyes. He’s touched. “What about you two?”

“We’ll be fine. I’m gonna protect Pearline.” Thompson affirms. “You just focus on—"

“Wait! Everybody wait!” Nina says loudly, placing a hand on the wall to steady herself. Everyone turns to look at her. “I remember now… I think maybe I am his omega… from a past life…”

Sammie digs his nails into his skin. Pearline grabs his hand, a comforting presence.

“Girl, what?” Even Jess looks at Nina as if she’s lost it.

“Yeah… like maybe if I, like, sacrifice myself, that alpha will leave every—hic-- everyone alone?”

“Are you crazy?” Pearline hisses from across the room. “Don’t go out there. We don’t know who—I mean, what—that alpha aims to do.”

But they already hear the sound of the front door unlatching.

“Don’t—” Sammie stares in horror as Nina steps outside. He moves to lunge after her, to reach for her arm, but Thompson and Pearline both yank him back.

“Let her.” Pearline mutters. “Get ready to run if you have to.”

Sammie steels his nerves, and nods.

The door swings shut behind Nina. From their position in the shadowed living room, Sammie, Thompson, and Pearline can just see her tossing her chestnut hair over her shoulder before stepping further out on the porch.

“…Good evenin’.” Remmick says, tilting his head. “Can I… help you with somethin’?”

“Um, yeah?” Nina tosses her hair again, puts her hands on her hips. “I’m your omega? Duh.”

Remmick is still grinning, but he looks a little confused.

“Ah… you ain’t my type, darlin’.”

“…”

Sammie lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Excuse me?” Nina says, offended.

“What the fuck?” Jess yells out the window. “That’s my best friend, what do you mean she’s not your type?”

Remmick puts his hands up. “I didn’t mean no offense—"

“Who the hell do you think you are?” Nina slurs, pointing an accusatory finger towards Remmick.

“My honest apologies, I’m only here for—”

Crash.

A vase has gone flying out of the window, missing Remmick by a mile and shattering on the ground about a yard away from him. “Apologize to her, you jerk!” Jess yells, despite Remmick already apologizing profusely.

“Christ.” Pearline mutters lowly. “Your friends are wasted, Thompson.”

“Huh? Ain’t these your friends?” Thompson replies, confused.

“No?” Pearline stares back at her boyfriend, equally baffled. Another crash.

Sammie’s head is spinning. Jess continues to throw items out of the window. Brad has taken two more beers to the head and looks like he’s about to charge out of the door. And Nina is still outside, yelling something about performative male alphas.

When Brad reaches for the doorknob, Pearline and Thompson snap out of their confusion, both turning a protective look towards Sammie.

“Here’s your chance.” Thompson nudges Sammie toward the kitchen.

Sammie hesitates by the doorframe. “Are y’all sure—"

“Sammie. Go.” Pearline waves him off frantically. “We’ll see you later, okay?”

Sammie slips out the back door, crouching down and moving as quietly as possible. As Pearline predicted, Sammie’s departure goes entirely unnoticed by the rest of the group, now launching some sort of drunken offensive against a still-smiling-albeit-confused Remmick. Sammie makes it a few meters away, slipping into the cover of the trees before straightening up and peering back towards the cabin.

He can’t see anything from back here. But Sammie hears more drunk yelling, more sounds of home décor shattering to pieces on the ground. Brad’s voice joins the mix, and Sammie takes a few steps further into the woods. It’ll be alright. Remmick’s not gon’ hurt em, if all he wants is me—

And then Sammie hears something that stops him in his tracks.

Brad is loudly yelling drunken threats, his words slurring—but then Brad emits a shuddering grunt, deep within his chest, as if he had been struck unexpectedly. Sammie hears the sound of a weak groan, and then a heavy, muscled body slumping to the dirt.

And then Nina and Jess start screaming, for real.

Sammie feels ice cold fear seize his entire body. Before he can freeze up again, he takes off as fast as he can towards the forest. Chest heaving, he’s running through the brush, away from the path when he hears, faint but recognizable: Pearline’s voice, crying out into the night:

“Thompson, wait—”

And then Sammie doesn’t hear her again.

Sammie hesitates, pausing to catch his breath by a tree. Should I… should I go back…?

Sammie.

Sammie yelps. He doesn’t know if it’s Remmick, or his own imagination, but Sammie breaks out into a run once again. He veers off of the path and ends up stumbling over an embedded rock, skidding down a moderately steep hill but managing to catch himself at the bottom, looking left and right before he starts sprinting down the middle, zigzagging as much as he can.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck. Sammie doesn’t even know where he’s going. God, he’s so stupid. So, so stupid. How did he end up like this? Alone in the woods with nothing to defend himself with?

He should have never come upstate with Pearline. Sammie should have listened to his cousins and done what he was told. Remmick is dangerous, Sammie sees that now. Now Pearline’s friends are—Pearline could be—

Tears sting at his eyes. Sammie brushes them away and keeps running. He swears he hears his name in the trees. He’s terrified, but keeps going. He’s shaking as he runs blindly through the forest.

Sammie’s heart is pounding in his chest as he races through the trees. Panting, chest heavy. Branches and brush scrape at his skin as he tears through the forest.

“Sammie.” This time, Sammie is certain—that’s definitely Remmick’s voice, calling for him sweetly. But Sammie can’t tell if he’s close or far away. He whimpers and tries to increase his speed, dodging trees and logs, tripping and stumbling but never letting himself fall.

His name echoes through the forest again and again. Sammie runs faster. He runs for his life.

He’s not fast enough.

“Sammie.”

This time Sammie hears Remmick loud and clear, only meters away.

And then Sammie is being tackled and it feels like he’s been hit by a train. His ears are ringing as he and the powerful body atop him skid to a stop in the dirt. Sammie screams and struggles, though it does nothing to help.

Remmick looms over him, red eyes shining in the dark. His fangs have dropped, teeth razor sharp in the moonlight, drool dripping down onto Sammie’s t-shirt.

“Caught you.” Remmick murmurs.

And then all Sammie remembers is a bright, sharp pain blooming across his neck and shoulder. With one last shuddering gasp, Sammie passes out.

He blinks awake what thankfully seems to be only a few minutes later. Sammie is disorientated, pinned beneath a heavy, drooling, red-eyed weight. His neck stings painfully, but the hurt is intermittently soothed by the rough drag of an alpha’s tongue over the wound.

Sammie can’t help himself. He moans. Remmick’s eyes flicker up to meet his, bright and elated.

“Sammie, Sammie, Sammie Sammie. My omega.” Remmick purrs, switching between licking the wound on his neck and pressing bloody kisses all over Sammie’s face. “God, you look so good. Smell so fuckin’ good, I can’t believe-- missed you so much--”

Sammie tries to take stock of himself. They’re still in the woods, the sounds of nightlife wilderness blanketed all around them. Sammie is on his back in a bed of cool dirt and crisp leaves. Sammie’s ankle hurts, and his scent gland is throbbing, but otherwise Sammie doesn’t feel too worse for wear.

Wait—

His scent gland?

Sammie raises a hand to his neck; it comes back wet. He holds his hand up to the moonlight and can see his own blood and Remmick’s saliva clinging to his fingers.

Sammie’s big brown eyes grow wide with horror. “You just—you just fuckin’ claimed me.”

Remmick looks extraordinarily proud of himself. “Sure as hell did.”

“We ain’t—” Sammie swallows. “--it’s been three years and you just—”

Remmick doesn’t seem to care how long it’s been. He goes back to licking at Sammie’s neck. Sammie pushes at Remmick’s chest, struggling to sit up in the dirt. Remmick doesn’t budge. It’s obvious he’s a lot stronger now than he was when the last time they were together. Shamefully, Sammie feels wet heat pulse between his legs.

“Stop. Mmn… stop it!”

“Be good.” Remmick murmurs, sniffing the air, picking up on Sammie’s arousal. He grins and starts grinding his erection against Sammie’s cunt, hot and slow, separated only by mere fabric.

“Don’t.” Sammie moans again, despite his body responding encouragingly. How many times had he fantasized about being with Remmick once more? He has dreamt of this moment for so long, but he has to know. “Did… did you hurt my friends?”

“They still alive, if that’s what you mean.”

Wrong answer. Hissing, Sammie starts to struggle harder against the overeager alpha. “If you hurt Pearline, I’ll—”

“Relax, baby.” Remmick pins Sammie’s wrists above his head, covering Sammie’s entire body with his own. “Shh, relax. Pearline’s fine. So’s that two-timing alpha of hers.”

Unable to look anywhere else, Sammie searches Remmick’s eyes. “…You swear it?”

“Swear on my life.” Remmick vows. “I didn’t lay a hand on those two.”

Relief crashes like a wave over Sammie. Oh, thank God. He stops fighting, allowing his body to relax against the ground as he emits a long, relieved breath. Remmick hums, releasing his wrists and going back to leaving kisses and licks on the side of Sammie’s face and down his throat.

Wait. How did he know about Thompson—

Belatedly, he realizes that Remmick just confirmed something Sammie already suspected. “—You the one who been texting me.”

“Course I’m the one who been texting you.” Remmick nuzzles into his neck. “I’d kill anyone who was stalking you for real.”

You was stalking me for real, Sammie thinks, but he knows Remmick will never see it that way. There’s a more pressing matter, anyway.

“Why didn’t you—”

Sammie pushes Remmick’s face away, only so he can feel along the brand-new mating bite on his neck. It throbs painfully under his touch. Sammie is— he’s been claimed. Bonded to Remmick forever. The thought should horrify him.

Why doesn’t it horrify him?

“—We shoulda talked about this, first--”

“I tried to talk to ya.” Remmick grins. “You was hidin’.”

“I meant—back in Chicago. If you got let out, why didn’t you—"

“I did come see you, sweetheart.” Remmick finishes Sammie’s thought before the omega can even speak it. “Went to see you right away, but—yer cousins were always around.” Remmick sucks his teeth, clearly still sore about what the twins did to him. “Drivin’ past your place two, three times a day. Couldn’t get you alone. So when I learned you was goin’ upstate without them knowin’, I took the opportunity to invite myself along.”

Remmick looks so supremely pleased with himself for stalking and keeping tabs on Sammie’s whereabouts. He’s grinning unabashedly at Sammie, running his hands up and down the omega’s sides. Though his pulse is still racing, Sammie feels… safe. Caught, but cared for.

Like a slow-unraveling ribbon, fear gives away to something else.

“You scared me.” Sammie bites his lip, stares deep into his alpha’s eyes. “Thought you came here to kill me.”

“Sammie, no.” The grin drops off of Remmick’s face, and his hips still their movements. “I wasn’t tryin’ to kill you, no, never that baby—”

“Thought you hated me.” Sammie whispers. “You was so mean in your letters.”

“Only at first. I was angry.” Remmick noses along his jawline, places soft kisses against Sammie’s chin. “You lied on me, sugar.”

“I… I know.” And suddenly Sammie’s sitting up in the dirt again, not to push Remmick away, but to wrap his arms around the alpha in a tight hug. Remmick's arms pause in the air around Sammie’s waist, not expecting the embrace. “I hate that I did that to you, Remmick.” Sammie says earnest and contrite. “I’m so goddamn sorry.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Remmick murmurs softly, wrapping his arms around Sammie’s waist. “I forgive you.”

And then he draws Sammie into a deep, passionate kiss. Their first in three and a half years, though it feels like no time at all has passed. Sammie tastes his own blood against Remmick’s lips and remembers the bite all over again. The knowledge that he’s been claimed by this alpha, the one he wanted, the one he was thinking about all this time-- it makes something inside Sammie sing, satisfies a deep-seated instinct.

“I missed you.” Sammie murmurs. Another confession, another secret unburdened beneath the moonlight.

“I missed you too, sugar. Missed you so fuckin’ much, nearly lost my mind bein’ apart from you.”

Sammie remembers that summer, when they first met. How he spent most of it stuck on Remmick’s knot. How he had the time of his life with Remmick, was happier than he’s ever been.

He reaches for Remmick’s cock, hot and hard under his jumpsuit. “…I missed somethin’ else, too.”

Remmick’s eyes flash in the moonlight.

Sammie bares his neck for his alpha, exposing his newly gifted bite mark to the drooling beast above him. Remmick emits a rumble from low in his chest.

Sammie licks his lips. “You gon’ remind me, alpha?”

Remmick’s jumpsuit is fully unzipped and hanging loose around his hips, leaving the alpha in only his wifebeater and gold chain, both splattered with Sammie’s blood. Sammie’s shorts and underwear are discarded somewhere nearby. His yellow t-shirt is pushed up to his nipples, recently sucked on and swollen. And Remmick is drooling above him, sinking his cock into Sammie deep and slow.

“Mmph,” Sammie can hardly speak, he’s so full. “Ahh, Remmick—”

Remmick closes his eyes, visibly shudders as he seats himself fully inside. “Been dreamin’ about hearin' you say my name again.”

Sammie has been dreamin’ about this, too. And now it’s happening, now he’s reunited with Remmick, joined together under the moonlight. The claiming bite on Sammie’s scent gland pulsing and visible for anyone to see. Remmick’s drool soaking his neck and collarbone. Sammie missed it so much.

Remmick’s big hands nearly encircle all of Sammie’s waist. Sammie arches and moans against the ground as Remmick deep dicks him slow and rhythmically, his cock hitting long-dormant spots inside of Sammie, making him gasp and cry out. His mouth is slack as he pants and whines with every hit against his sweet spot.

Remmick is in a similar state; he’s drooling, his eyes glittering, gone. But Remmick keeps talking to him, keeps asking questions while he fucks Sammie gently, making up for lost time. And Sammie can’t help but answer every single one.

“You missed me?” Remmick murmurs.

“Yeah…”

Remmick wraps his big hands around the back of Sammie’s thighs, pushing them up high in the cool night air. He shoves himself inside Sammie deeper than before, deeper than Sammie remembers, and Sammie clenches down around him, gasping, eyes fluttering with how good it feels. “You sorry?”

“Mm-hmm—" Sammie moans, clinging to his alpha. Sammie barely understands what he’s apologizing for. Remmick’s fat cock driving in and out of him is the only thing he can think about. “Fuck me—more, alpha.”

Remmick gives him more. He’s huffing as he fucks into Sammie’s wet pussy, remembering all his good spots. Like he never left, like Sammie never sent him away.

“Pretty perfect omega, singing for me. Missed you. You mine, now.” Remmick groans, triumphant. “Never gonna be apart from me again.”

Sammie whines in agreement. Remmick’s so deep inside him, the tip of his cock kissing Sammie’s cervix with every thrust. So, so deep. Sammie trills and digs his nails in as Remmick fucks him even harder.

“You ain’t give this pussy away to no one else, right?” Remmick huffs into Sammie’s ear. He’s got Sammie’s legs thrown over his shoulders, fucking him so good, claiming Sammie so intimately. He’s an alpha, a big hungry alpha, drooling for Sammie, fucking Sammie like he’s never been fucked before. Sammie loves it. It’s what he’s been needing, what he’s been craving this whole time.

“No, alpha—"

“Good boy. Knew I was gon’ come back for you, right?”

“Y-yeah, I knew it, I knew it alpha…” Sammie can barely hear him over the wet, messy sounds of their lovemaking. The sloppy noises turn Sammie on even more. He knows he’s makin’ that mess, dripping uncontrollably so Remmick can fuck him nice and smooth.

“Knew I wasn’t gon’ let nobody stop me.” Remmick mutters, ragged. “Knew I was gonna—f-fuck- make you mine for good. You, ah, shit—you ready, baby?”

Sammie can feel the pressure of Remmick’s big knot dipping inside of him, catching on Sammie’s fluttering rim, keeping his dick deep in Sammie’s pussy where it belongs. Mine. Sammie thinks. This my alpha. Right to claim me, I’m his. I’m all his.

“M’ready, alpha.” Sammie moans as he clings onto Remmick with everything he has, sparks shooting up his spine as his climax approaches like a hurricane. Sammie’s nails dig into Remmick’s skin, scratching marks down his shoulder blades as Sammie’s voice grows hoarse and he arches up against his alpha--

“Remmick..! Fuck, fuck I’m cumming—"

Sammie cums harder than he ever has in his life, squirting all over Remmick’s abdomen. The bite on his neck pulses and burns, itching for more of his alpha’s saliva. Remmick knows what he needs without Sammie having to say a thing. Remmick’s knot locks in place and he’s coming hot and deep inside Sammie, groaning, leaning down to drag his big wet tongue over Sammie’s scent gland once more. Soothing his claim. Taking care of it.

Sammie closes his eyes, panting hard. Then he fists his hand in Remmick’s dark hair and drags him down, kissing him deeply, with three years and some change worth of passion and longing. And Remmick kisses him back, his face wet with drool and blood, his hips making short, shuddering thrusts against the crux of Sammie’s thighs.

A cool breeze drifts across their overheated bodies, but neither of them register it. Sammie and Remmick pant against each other’s mouths. And then they’re kissing again, desperate and hungry-- until time doesn’t mean anything anymore, until Remmick’s knot goes down and long after that.

The sun is rising as Sammie and Remmick make their way back to the cabin. Bright golden orange sun rays stream through the trees as Remmick carries Sammie piggyback, Sammie’s arms wrapped securely around the alpha’s broad neck.

My alpha, Sammie thinks, sighing. He burrows his face against Remmick’s skin, inhaling his scent. Mine. Remmick hums.

Sammie is sore all over. He could use an hour-long shower and then some. But Sammie is also sated and happy. Lightweight. Free.

Sammie feels… cleansed. Brand new. But there’s still-- 

“Mad at you.” Sammie murmurs sleepily against his alpha’s neck. “For scarin’ everybody. For mating me without permission.”

“I just wanted to surprise you, darlin’.” Remmick replies easily, hefting Sammie up higher and closer to his body. “Was tryin’ to be romantic. Don’t be mad, Sammie.”

“You supposed to—ask first.” Sammie scolds. “Supposed to court me…”

“I’m still gon’ do that.” Remmick smiles. “Just had to get the bite out the way, first. Twins can’t keep us apart now.”

The twins. Sammie’s arms tighten around Remmick’s neck. He had nearly forgotten all about them. They’re gonna be furious when they find out about the bite.

Begrudgingly, Sammie understands Remmick’s thought process. His alpha was just being proactive—staying two steps ahead of the twins who wanted to see him locked up forever. Now they can’t do anything to Remmick without hurting Sammie. Smart alpha. But still.

“Woulda said yes, if you just asked.” Sammie grouches.

“I knew you would, baby.” Remmick hums. “That’s why I did it anyway.”

“…”

Sammie simply can’t argue with that. He yawns again, then presses a sleepy kiss against Remmick’s neck.

Pearline and Thompson come into view as Remmick and Sammie round the side of the cabin. They’re sitting side by side on the porch steps. Pearline is smoking a cigarette, hands trembling, looking frazzled. Thompson is doing his best to comfort her.

Leaves crunch under Remmick’s boots as he approaches the cabin, drawing their attention.

“Sammie!” They both shoot to their feet. Pearline covers her mouth as she takes in the state of the pair; Sammie looking absolutely ravaged and Remmick looking pleased as anything, Sammie’s blood staining his wifebeater and parts of his mouth.

“It’s okay.” Sammie reassures. “I’m fine, Pearline.”

Remmick crouches down dutifully, allowing the omega to climb off of his back. Once he straightens up, Sammie offers formal introductions.

“Pearline.” Sammie says. “Thompson. This is Remmick, my alpha. Remmick, this—well. I guess you already know them.”

“What does that mean.” Thompson mutters, shocked still.

“Charmed to meet ya.” Remmick grins wide, sticking out his hand. “M’sorry we got off on the wrong foot, earlier. Didn’t mean to scare y’all.”

Pearline and Thompson stare at the outstretched hand. Pearline’s shocked gaze flickers to Sammie’s neck, and she gasps out loud.

“Sammie… is that…”

“Uh. Yeah...” Sammie raises a hand to the bite; Remmick’s eyes flash with pride. “…Should probably go clean this up, huh?”

Pearline looks wide-eyed from Sammie’s neck, to Remmick, and back to Sammie again. Then she shoots forward and grabs Sammie’s hand, hastily dragging him inside the deserted cabin as if she thinks Remmick might snatch him back at any moment. The two alphas remain outside in the early morning sun, birds in the trees starting up their morning song.

“So,” Remmick starts, tone friendly as he looks over at Thompson. “Bulls fan?”

“Sammie.” The sink is running. Pearline’s hands are on him, examining his face, his neck in the sunlight streaming in through the kitchen window. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Swear it.” Sammie reassures, tilting his neck so Pearline can use a damp paper towel to wipe off the remaining blood. The action kind of makes him feel like he’s showing it off, and his omegan instincts trill at the thought. All that time pretending to be a beta, and it only took one night to undo it all. “What happened back here?”

“Okay. Well,” Pearline starts, adopting the voice she uses when she recaps gossip. “Brad tried to swing on… on your alpha, but Remmick knocked him out pretty fast. Jess started freaking out, went runnin’ outside with a pair of scissors, so he knocked her out too. Nina was still pushing that “I’m his omega” shit, and it looks like Remmick was going to knock her out too… but then he realized you had left. Thompson tried to stop him, but Remmick ignored him completely and took off runnin’ after you.” Pearline recaps. “Brad and Jess eventually woke up. They all drove off about an hour ago.”

She gently sops the mess from his neck, wiping him clean. Then she reaches for a few dry paper towels, using them to pat the wound dry. “What happened out in the forest? Aside from you getting’ mounted and claimed, of course.”

“Ah…” Sammie looks away, embarrassed.

“Don’t do that. I can smell it all over you.” Pearline rolls her eyes. She seems more at ease now, at least. “Can’t believe you was getting hunched on in the woods while I was worried sick.”

“I’m sorry.” Sammie leans back against the kitchen counter. “He shouldn’t have dragged y’all into this.”

“No shit. That motherfucker is crazy.” Pearline comments with a laugh. “I see why your cousins act the way they do.”

“…Yeah.”

“And you crazy, too.” Pearline observes thoughtfully, without judgement. “I've never seen you this happy.”

It’s Sammie’s turn to laugh. He closes a hand over his mating bite, stroking his thumb across the edge of it fondly.

“You think they shoulda locked me away, instead?”

“Wouldn’t have made a difference.” Pearline pokes his side playfully. “I don’t think there’s a prison on this earth that could keep that alpha away from you.”

Thompson can’t get the key into the ignition fast enough. Sammie and Pearline hug goodbye next to her car then separate slowly to take each other in, one last time. Pearline’s eyes flicker over to Remmick, then back to Sammie.

“You sure you gon’ be okay?”

“I’m sure,” Sammie tells her. “Thanks for inviting me up here, Pearline.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Remmick echoes.

She presses her lips together. “Don’t… don’t mention it.”

“Y’all travel safe now, you hear?” Remmick instructs. “And you—” He places his hand on the roof of the car, leans down towards Thompson in the driver's seat. “Stop cheatin’ on this pretty girl.” Remmick scolds. “Or else I’m gon’ roll up on you again. Understand?”

“Y-yeah. Got it.” Thompson stutters, hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. “Pearline, any minute now—”

“I’m comin’.”

Giving Sammie one last squeeze, Pearline slips away and over to the passenger side door. She’s just closing it behind her when a thought seemingly occurs.

“Wait! Your cousins— what if they come by?” Pearline asks. “What should I tell them?”

“Tell ‘em the truth.” Sammie shrugs. “My alpha came to get me.”

Remmick grins, wide and smug. He wraps a possessive arm around Sammie’s waist.

Pearline looks at the strange pair then nods. And then Thompson is burning rubber down the path back to the main road. Sammie and Remmick wave them off.

Twenty-four hours ago Sammie was in that same car, singing along to the radio with Pearline, unaware that his life was about to change forever. But now he’s—now Sammie is where he belongs. With his alpha.

He turns and leans up just as Remmick starts to lean down. Their lips meet gently, softer than they’ve kissed all morning.

Sammie’s mating bite still stings. He could use a shower and a nap and a warm meal. And then—well, who knows? With Remmick back by his side, Sammie can do whatever he wants.

Though right now all he wants to do is kiss his alpha. So Sammie does, out in the open, freed from the stress of his secrets.