Day eight. The scent of alpha was still unnervingly strong. It wasn’t as though last night’s… unspeakable incident… had added to the potency of the mark - Elliott hadn’t touched his skin. River slammed his face back into his pillow. Coming without a single, actual, touch.

For a moment, it had felt completely normal- natural. In the roll of their bodies a deep primal urge was reciprocated. Except, was it? River came and left an omega snail trail to prove it all over his trousers. Elliott didn’t. And River had no idea what that meant. Actually, he did have ideas, he just didn’t like any of them as reasonable options.

If Elliott just wasn’t as attracted to River as he was to him? Mortifying. If he was expecting him to do more than ride him with his face in his shirt? Possibly even more mortifying. If he was taking pity on a virtuous omega? River would rather die than be seen with him again. Or by him.

What on earth were you even supposed to say to someone after you got off on their knee?

He groaned and the pillow didn’t reply.  It judged in silence. For having an orgasm in public or for not being at the library already like he’d planned… was to be decoded. He swivelled his cheeks to peek at the time on his phone: ten. He’d wanted to be at the library and nose-deep in his required reading by nine.

He forced himself upright, bringing the disapproving pillow with him in a limp cuddle, and sighed. There was still time, and he needed to be dressed and out the door for afternoon lectures eventually, he might as well make the most of the extra time.

A speedy shower and knee-length buttercup-printed shorts, tank top, cropped cream cardigan, white sandals, and wrinkly tote bag later, River was ready to head out.

The library was an easy, breezy, walk away. Inside it wasn’t too busy, with plenty of tables and cubicles open for use. River slid into one and arranged two enormous tomes in front of him with his water bottle on the side. He checked his phone: more than enough time to get though all the necessary chapters.

“River, darling!”

River jolted in his seat.

“Hi Heather,” he whispered. Others were giving them hard looks over the dividers.

Heather dropped her volume. “Oh, yes, sorry!” She twinkled her fingers at a man who hadn’t looked away quickly enough. “I’m just passing through and I thought I recognised…”

Fifteen minutes later, Heather had bustled away and River slumped in his chair. He really needed to get stuck in-

Pepper popped out from behind a bookcase. “Hey River! I thought I heard your voice. How’d you like Glacier?”

River perked up to answer. It would be rude not to thank her for including his name on the club list…

After ten minutes of gratitudes and polite compliments on Glacier’s music, atmosphere, interior design, Pepper took her leave, walking backwards out of the building with hushed promises of another night out soon.

River waved until she was out of sight.

He still had time. As long as he cracked on without any further distractions-

A head dipped into his cubby with a coy smile: Emerald.

“Hi Em,” River greeted, barely keeping his exasperation from his voice. “I really-”

“You will not believe what that choir master has done now!”

Apparently River’s belief wasn’t conditional to him hearing this new piece of gossip, because Emerald launched into the story without pause for breath. River nodded and hummed her along, hoping that any moment it would end. He had so much reading to catch up on…

Please, he wanted to say, I came here for peace and quiet to read, not to chat!

“Move along, this isn’t a café.” Elliott slid into the cubby beside him, dropping a luxurious leather satchel to the desk. The mere sight of him set River’s senses on edge. Anticipation tickling him all over.

Emerald giggled, only an undercurrent of awkward nerves to the sound. “You’re right, I should get going. See you, River.” She eyed Elliott all over. “Elliott, right?”

Elliott nodded, to his laptop rather than Emerald.

“Bye, Em,” River hinted quietly.

Emerald skipped off, unperturbed. Once she was out of earshot, River murmured his thanks.

“I sent her on her way for my sake, not yours.” Elliott finished arranging the tiny desk space with his things and placed the satchel beneath. “I’m here to study.”

“So am I!”

“Then why couldn’t you get rid of her?”

“That’s rude,” River mumbled.

“Being direct and being rude aren’t the same thing.”

“They are if you’re not big enough that taking offence could have consequences.”

“Talk of consequences coming from an omega is…” He pulled his bottom lip into his mouth for a moment and smirked down at his text-filled screen. “Hilarious.”

Ah, one of River’s least favourite omega stereotypes: that omegas get special treatment everywhere they go and that this offers them some kind of advantage in life.  Omegas can do what they like and no one would bat an eye because they’re just a weak, little omega.

“You of all people should know that the clichés betas believe are bullshit.”

“True.” He watched him for moment, as though weighing up whether to continue. He turned back to the laptop. “The reason you don’t face consequences isn’t your secondary gender. It’s because you refuse to toe anything close to a confrontation.” He let out a sigh filled with mirth, keeping his gaze on the screen. “God forbid you don’t fall at the feet of anyone who approaches you.”

River pouted. “You will never convince me there’s anything wrong with being nice for the sake of being nice.”

He finally broke his staring contest with his laptop to give him an odd look. Curious? Humorous? Disbelieving? “Let’s agree to disagree and get on with our studies, then.”

A flush of heat ran through him. He was going to start his reading, but if he argued it out with Elliott he was proving the point he had so subtly made. He locked his eyes on the text in front of him and began to read.

Ten pages in, he smelt the approach of a submissive beta from behind.

“He’s got a deadline.” Smooth yet icy, Elliott’s words passed over the top of River’s head. He barely turned in his seat to address the approaching interrupter.

“Oh, sorry!” The voice was JJ’s, a guy in his fine art class. River peeked over his shoulder and JJ mouthed ‘I’ll text you!’

River smiled and nodded and returned to his book.

Every now and then, another person would approach. And every time Elliott would rebuff them with incredible efficiency.

In spite of his firm tone, River could tell they were all still eager to be agreeable with him. No one was offended by his dismissal. No one argued or complained. No one lingered. It must be so easy to be an alpha - everyone wanted to like them, to be in their vicinity. Not like omegas, too dainty and delicate - why take the risk of being near them? River worked so hard to be approachable, easy to like, and Elliott made none at all and betas took to him without any concern. He didn’t begrudge Elliott being introverted, it was just so unfair that he couldn’t get the same treatment.

After reading in silence, side-by-side, for an hour, River cracked.

“How do you keep turning up everywhere I go?”

Elliott took his time facing him. “I told you already, I have to keep an eye on anyone wearing my scent.” He sighed, sliding to his side on the hard wooden chair as though it were a chaise. “I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”

River slumped back and folded his arms over his chest. “And how many subs have you scent marked?”

“Are you jealous?” The excitement in his eyes made him nervous.

River scoffed. “No! I’m just curious how often you do this scent-and-stalk routine.”

“How many doms have scent marked on you?”

He turned away, burning from brow to collarbone.

“Oh?” Elliott chuckled. “A lot, then.”

River shook his head at his book. Not a single scent but his own had crossed his throat before Elliott’s.

“No alphas, though.”

River jerked his gaze back up to him. How could he tell that?

“Tuesday. You said the scent would fade soon, but it’s only been a week,” he explained with a smirk. “Dominant betas can stretch out a week at most from one scent mark, but you’ve got a little longer before mine even starts fading.”

“How much longer?”

“My record is ten days, full strength.”

“And then?”

“Then another week, at least, of the slow breakdown of my mark.”

Almost three weeks off one rub-down. River was doomed. He folded his cardigan around him tighter.

“Angling for another hoodie?”

River laughed awkwardly. “And take up even more space in the washing machine? I’ve got my own clothes to fit in!” Yesterday’s stolen article was still sitting at the bottom of his laundry basket - soaked.

“Are any of those clothes appropriate for winter?” Elliott asked, a teasing lilt to his tone.

“It’s spring.”

“In a month, sure.”

“It’s getting warmer and brighter every day.”

“I see, so because the temperature has moved from one degree to two degrees, you think you can walk around half-dressed?”

River rolled his eyes. He hadn’t been complaining about how little he was wearing last night. “Everything that needs to be covered is covered.”

Elliott took a long time studying him now, checking all the areas he deemed needing of cover. His eyes lingered between River’s legs before flicking back up to meet his. “But is it warm?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

A passing student coughed, “Get a room!” He and his friend hurried away and out the front doors, laughing.

“I- I didn’t mean that in- in a dirty way-”

Elliott tapped his open book. “Back to work.”

×

After his afternoon lecture, River still had an Art Society meeting to attend. He flopped onto one of the benches just inside the doors to the theatre building.

He had no reason to feel so drained. A ten o’clock start was nothing to boast about. He’d spent a couple of hours reading in the library… and avoiding conversation with everyone and their mother. Then Elliott had departed for a reason he didn’t share, and River had walked to class.

In the absence of a logical reason, he decided to blame Elliott. Something about being in his presence and trying to act like he wasn’t humming with suspense at what he would do next exhausted him. It had to be his fault. River thought he’d had him pegged as the quiet, classy alpha in the corner, now he was struggling to put him in a box. He kept himself in his shell for the most part, but he could also be very forward and… flirtatious?

Was it flirting if he didn’t take River seriously? Or was it just teasing? Should he be rejecting the behaviour?

He didn’t want to.

River choked on his own spit and sat up properly to cough himself clear again. That wasn’t a thought he had expected to reach his consciousness. Even admitting to himself that maybe… he liked Elliott’s looks, his purred words, his steady and careful touches, was painfully embarrassing.

He had scent-marked River on a silly whim that they’d shared. He didn’t want River. He was playing along for the duration of the mark and that was it. Keeping his hands to the barrier of the dress last night had told him exactly that. In a few days the scent would be fading and Elliott would lose interest. Until then... there was nothing wrong with enjoying his playful pretend interest. He was young, and at university, this was the time to have fun!

He hopped back onto his feet, invigorated, and decided to take the longer, scenic walk to the meeting. Maybe he could gather more inspiration for his next painting…

×

“They want us to work for free,” Rowan summarised. His frown was almost fearsome.

The Art Society president corrected him, “They will provide food and drinks and you’re welcome to use photos of the project for your portfolios.”

“I don’t have a portfolio,” Sky complained. He was on the Art History course, so he didn’t need to show any of his own art. A shame, because River felt he had a real eye for anatomical sketching. “And I don’t eat cake.”

The president sighed. “Well, anyone that does want to join in, please let me know.”

“And that was the last item on the agenda,” the society secretary added. “Thanks for coming everyone.”

The group partly-dispersed, with some lingering to sign up for the mural painting project and others hanging back to complain about the audacity of expecting broke uni students to work for free. The mural was for a local café, and would take a whole day to complete. Luckily, River had checked his diary and he was free. It wasn’t planned until after the Easter break due to the cold weather, so it was far enough out that he actually had some availability. He joined the line to sign himself up and got a thorough thanks from the president and secretary.

As he approached the door to leave, Rowan and Sky swooped into his sides.

“You shouldn’t let them take advantage of your good nature like that, River,” Rowan scolded.

Sky grumbled, “Yeah, you can’t be working for coffee and cookies.”

“It’ll be a fun day to make friends!”

The boys groaned in unison and yanked open the doors ahead of him. River trotted through and they caught back up with him immediately.

“You have more than enough friends,” Sky laughed.

“Too many!” Rowan huffed. “You need to de-clutter your diary.”

River grinned. There was no chance of that happening. “Maybe I’ll manage to change your minds by next term.”

“And maybe pigs will fly.” Rowan nodded down the dark street. “More importantly - you going straight home from here?”

“Yep.”

“Then we’ll walk you.”

River beamed up at them. “Thanks.”

“Now stop it with that cute shit, you’re not going to convince us,” Rowan grumbled.

River laughed and let them lead him back to his front door.