by Noah Harris
Being the only sober one in a room full of drunk omegas, however, seemed to be taking its toll on Dylan. He looked relieved whenever Blake came to his side, making comments about finally having someone decent to talk to. Blake just smirked, proud that he could be considered adequate company. He listened while Dylan complained about his cousin and his friends. They were all loud and giggly drunks, and they never missed the opportunity to cheer loudly before devolving into giggles. Blake could understand how Dylan felt out of place among them. At Dylan’s insistence, he agreed to leave the party early with him, but not yet. As a groomsman, and one of the groom’s brothers, he felt obligated to stay until others had started leaving. Being the first to leave would only set off Ben and crumble the fragile ice they stood on.
Dylan only sighed and accepted his fate, sipping his alcohol-free drink.
Throughout the night, Blake fell into a pattern of visiting Dylan once an hour. But as it got later and as people got drunker, Blake got dragged into a beer pong tournament and got caught up in it. He and his partner kept winning, and it took longer than expected. Blake was ashamed to say that he lost track of time. He also drank more than he realized and ended up tipsier than he had intended. He didn’t realize how much time had passed until he felt a tap on his shoulder.
“Dylan!” Blake said, blinking in surprise as he turned around. The man was standing with his arms crossed over his chest and one eyebrow raised. “What’re you doing here?”
“You didn’t come back,” He said, and Blake didn’t miss the accusation in his tone.
He tilted his head, taking a step toward Dylan and putting his hands on his hips. “Got tired of the omegas’ company?” He teased.
Dylan rolled his eyes. “They’re talking about marriage and babies, and if I hear the story about how Alex and Ben met and how their sex life is one more time, I’m going to throw up.”
Blake put a finger to his lips, glancing around. “Speak of the devil, and the devil shall appear.” He spotted his brother on the other side of the room, near the bar. He had his back to them. “He won’t be happy to see you on this side.”
Dylan frowned, slapping Blake’s hand away from his lips. “Then he can come over and tell me himself. I have every right to be here.”
Blake smirked, lifting Dylan’s chin as he leaned down to kiss him. “That you do. And now you can be my good luck charm.” He put an arm around him and dragged him toward the table. “I believe you remember my cousin Derek.”
Derek lifted a hand in greeting. “Sup?”
“And then, of course, there’s Jerry and Theodore.” He said, gesturing to the men across the table. “The two guys we’re about to kick out of this tournament.”
Although Dylan seemed a little stiff at first, constantly casting glances over to where Ben stood with his buddies, he finally managed to relax. He seemed much more comfortable around the drunk alphas than he did around the drunk omegas. And although neither of them fit in perfectly, he could see that Dylan was much more comfortable attempting to fit in on this side of the bar.
Between his shots, Blake didn’t miss an opportunity to wrap his arms around Dylan. One arm or two, he just felt the need and desire to touch him. He had drunk enough that he was past the point of caring whether or not Ben saw them. Let him see. He was getting married and had no right to be upset. He also wondered if part of his behavior was because they were surrounded by alphas who were all looking at Dylan curiously. He doubted the omega noticed, but he sure did. He wanted to make sure they all saw Blake’s claim on him. It was a strange feeling and one that he’d never had before. He should have known that kind of alpha instinct would only come out around Dylan. The man had a way of getting past all his defenses and right down to the heart of his instincts.
They won the game, despite Blake being distracted, but it was close. Derek announced that he was going to go to the bathroom before their next game, and he asked if Blake could take care of refilling their cups.
“Mind giving me a hand?” Blake asked, grabbing several plastic cups.
“Sure,” Dylan picked up the remaining cups and eyed the bar warily.
Blake followed his gaze. “Don’t worry about him. He’s probably too drunk to notice either one of us.” He said, flashing Dylan a bright, reassuring smile, and starting toward the bar. Dylan followed behind him.
He was wrong, of course. He should’ve learned not to underestimate his brother’s pettiness. As they stopped at the bar and had their cups filled, Blake heard his brother say, in a fairly loud voice, “Yeah, I’m glad I got out of that one when I did.” And the group of alphas around him burst out in laughter. Blake glanced down the bar at him, and he caught his brother’s eye for just a second before he turned away. Blake’s eyes narrowed, but he turned back to the bartender and the cups, pretending he couldn’t hear him.
But he could, and his brother continued. He spoke in a voice that wasn’t too loud but was obviously meant to be overheard. He had made an art of being the center of attention without trying too hard, and by doing so, he could make his voice casually carry across a room.
“It’s a shame, really. He used to be hot, and now … well, you know.” More snickers from his friends.
Blake glanced sideways at Dylan. He was hoping, in vain, that the man hadn’t heard. But Dylan was staring at the cups being filled in front of him. His eyes were hard and narrowed slightly. His jaw was clenched, and a muscled ticked there. His arms were crossed over his chest.
“I mean, have you seen him? He doesn’t even look like an omega anymore! He looks like a damn alpha! Still smells like an omega, though. It’s confusing as fuck. It ain’t right, I tell you. It goes against nature.” He shook his head like he was somehow sad about the turn of events.
Blake glared out of the corner of his eye. He straightened his back, pushing out his chest and rolling his shoulders back. It was such a subtle movement, and so natural that he barely realized he was doing it. Not until Dylan laid a hand on his arm. He looked at him, blinking in surprise.
Dylan caught his eye and shook his head. “It’s not worth it.” He whispered with his lips pressed together in a thin line.
“He’s being an ass,” Blake said, sounding offended and defensive all at once.
“I know, but he’s not worth it.” Dylan lifted his chin, straightening his back. “He’s just trying to keep his fragile pride and ego in check.”
“Hard to do that when his eye looks like that. Do you know what he’s telling everyone?” Dylan shook his head, and Blake’s lips quirked upward. “He’s telling them that he and his friends were wrestling, you know like alphas like to do for some reason, and he got elbowed in the eye. I’m not sure if he actually has a friend who’s covering for him or if he just refuses to say who it was.”
“That’s not a very good lie,” Dylan observed, the ghost of a smile on his lips.
“Nope, but no one wants to question him. They all think I’ve done it, which I’m okay with them thinking.”
“Honestly, I thought my brother had better taste than that. But who knows, maybe he plays the omega and Dylan plays the alpha.” Ben said, voice rising slightly in volume. Blake bristled. His voice wasn’t loud enough to carry over to the omega side of the bar over the volume of the music, but it was loud enough that most of this side could hear him. Most of the alphas stopped what they were doing to listen, and the bar became eerily still and quiet. The music thumped on, but other than that, the only thing they could hear was Ben’s voice, the occasional laughter from his friends, and the vague ring of voices and laughter from Alex’s side.
“He’s always been in my shadow, following me around, doing what I did, copying me. Such a weird little kid. I never thought he’d have weird taste in men, too.” He sneered, leaning back against the bar, drink in hand. “My guess is he just wants to be like me, so he picked a guy I used to fuck. He hadn’t grown up nearly as much as he wants us to believe. I mean, he works on computers all day. You can’t get much more pas
sive than that. He probably does play the role of the omega in that relationship.”
There was a ring of laughter, but it only came from the group around Ben. The rest of their friends were watching them closely, looking between Ben and Blake. He could feel their eyes and attention on him. He was standing far too still and far too stiff to look calm. It was true. His family thought he worked at a programming firm. They had no idea what he actually did and what kind of dangers his actual job entailed. That didn’t bother him. It didn’t even bother him that his brother implied that he was acting the part of the omega. He didn’t care what Ben’s twisted sense of jealousy wanted to say about his sex life with Dylan. It didn’t matter. He didn’t even care about the implication that he just wanted to copy Ben. Any insults toward him could be brushed off and ignored. They always had been.
What made him angry was the insults against Dylan. The implication that there was something wrong with Dylan, just because he wasn’t petite or thin like some of the other omegas. The idea that being a strong soldier and man couldn’t go hand in hand with being an omega. It was an archaic way of thinking, and it was being used as an insult against Dylan. Like that somehow made him less desirable. Which was ridiculous, because Dylan was still the most handsome and attractive man he’d ever had the pleasure of setting eyes on.
Dylan’s hand was still on his arm, and he squeezed, drawing Blake’s attention. He glanced down at the copper haired man. His beautiful omega boyfriend and mate. Dylan shook his head slightly, and repeated softly, “He’s not worth it.”
“Dylan’s right.” Derek came up beside them, checking on the status of the beers. He spoke under his breath and glanced in Blake’s direction. His eyes were serious, and his lips were set in a grim line. He obviously didn’t like what Ben was saying either. “He’s just being a drunk, arrogant, douche. Ignore him.”
Blake sighed, “You’re right.” His lips curved into a small, reassuring smile as he tried to regain control over his calm and cocky persona. “He’s always been the ass of the family. I’m used to it.”
Dylan searched his face, but finally nodded and let go of his arm. “I wish I could give him another black eye.” He muttered under his breath. “He has no right to talk about you like that.”
Blake’s smile widened, and he wrapped an arm around Dylan, pulling him to his side. “My little omega, I’m flattered you’d be offended on my behalf, but I assure you, it takes a lot more than that to bruise my ego.” He kissed Dylan’s forehead and let him go, reaching for a couple of the plastic cups. “Come now; we have a tournament to win.”
“Here, here!” Derek said, smiling as he grabbed a couple more cups. Dylan grabbed the last two.
When Blake turned around, he took a moment to let his gaze sweep around the room, getting a gauge on the situation. Most looked away when he made eye contact, but a few held his gaze for a couple of seconds before he moved on. Their expressions were varied. Some were smirking, obviously those who either found Ben amusing or agreed with his sentiments. Others looked indifferent. Some looked grim, obviously feeling mild sympathy for Dylan and plain irritation at Ben’s comments. Those who seemed to be on Blake’s side gave him slight nods when his gaze swept past him, and he nodded in return.
But no matter where they stood on the matter, or whose side they were on, everyone watched with baited breath to see if Blake would react and rise to the obvious bait and challenge. Blake was going to have to disappoint. He had no intention of fighting his brother at his bachelor party.
“Who would want to be with an omega that brutish anyway?” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dylan bristle, pausing mid-step. “He used to be so cute, and now look at him! He looks like an alpha! He’s not fooling anyone. He’s just a butch omega. Damaged goods. It takes a special case to want to fuck that.” More laughter, including Ben’s. Blake glanced back at Dylan. He was staring at the floor with his lips pressed into a thin line. He was obviously trying desperately to put on a mask, to hide behind something that wouldn’t reveal how he was feeling. But Blake saw it. Ben’s comments cut him deeper than he wanted them to. Blake’s grip tightened on the cups, his eyes narrowing slightly. Dylan glanced up at him, and Blake saw the pain in his eyes before he looked away. “Honestly, omegas shouldn’t even be allowed in the military. They should be at home with the women.”
“You know what?” Blake said, stopping and turning back toward the bar. He gently set the cups back on the counter and turned to Dylan and Derek. A wide, pleasant, and fake grin spread his lips. “I change my mind. I think I’m going to have a talk with my brother.” He put his hand on his hips, nodding at each of them before his arms dropped to his side and he turned to walk away.
No one tried to stop him, but he could feel that everyone’s eyes were on him as he made his way down the bar to where his brother sat. A million comebacks ran through his mind. A million things he wanted to say. He thought of all the things his brother might say to him, and he thought of possible snide and clever things to say in response. He wanted to embarrass his brother. He wanted all of his friends to see how foolish and childish he was being. He wanted to hurt his ego in front of others, because when it came right down to it that was what Ben cherished most. He wanted to tear down his brother and leave him full of regret and shame.
His strides were calm and measured with his chin held high and his shoulders held back. Ben saw him coming, and sneered at him, his lips turned upward in a wicked grin. His eyes danced with amusement. “Here comes my dear, misguided brother now.” He said, causing his immediate circle of friends to turn. They all looked him up and down with superior attitudes and obvious sneers. Blake ignored them all. He only had eyes for his brother.
“Excuse me, gentlemen,” He said as he reached their circle. He made sure his voice was oozing pleasantness and polite tones. He was smiling calmly and held himself casually. But beneath it all, his alpha aura was pulsing, sending out a subtle threat. It was in his voice, too, hidden by the fake pleasantness. They could hear it, and they could feel it. Their smiles faded. “I’d like to have a word with my brother.” He said it almost as a request, but it was obviously a demand. The other alphas automatically shifted out of the way, getting out of their seats and stepping aside.
Ben was grinning. He downed the rest of his drink and set the glass heavily on the table. He slid off his chair, standing up straight. Or at least trying to. It was only then that Blake realized just how drunk his brother was. His balance wavered, forcing him to put a hand on the bar counter. He tried to do so casually, but Blake noticed. His eyes were half-lidded and red. His cheeks were tinged pink. His words slurred together in the way that could only mean he’d had too much to drink. Blake, too, had had more than he wanted to, but he wasn’t nearly so far gone. He could at least stand on his own and still had control over his body. Still, he was drunk enough that he was closer to his instincts, and the wolf was closer to the surface, and that meant he was tired of listening to Ben talk shit about Dylan.
“Little brother!” Ben said, holding out an arm in welcome and trying to sound pleasant and innocent. Blake didn’t move. “Come to congratulate me on my marriage?”
Blake could feel his brother trying to impose his alpha aura on him. It was weaker than it had been before, probably due to his drunkenness, but it was determined. Blake easily brushed off his aura and focused on his own. He usually hated alpha matches like this. Just standing and trying to intimidate each other like a couple of animals. There was no fun in it. There was nothing interesting about it. Just two dudes puffing out their chests until one backed down. But it was the only kind of intimidation that his brother understood.
He was intently watching his brothers face, reading his features, so he saw the moment his cocky grin faltered. “Do you really think you can intimidate me, little bro?” He said, his voice significantly softer. It was almost a growl.
Now that he was finally face to face with his brother, and he had the full intention of confrontation, he foun
d that he had nothing to say. All the comebacks he had thought of, all the things he had wanted to say, all the sentences that he had elegantly crafted to be perfectly clever, cruel, and precise, none of them seemed adequate. He realized, when facing his brother down, that nothing he said would make a difference. His brother wouldn’t listen to anything he had to say. He’d brush it all off, no matter how clever the barbs or how sharp the blow. He’d brush it off and continue with his twisted logic, going for the same cheap jabs that would get a rise out of his buddies. Words were inadequate against his brother, and for a moment, Blake felt at a loss. He had never been faced with an advisory that he couldn’t talk circles around. So he said nothing, but stared at his brother through slightly narrowed eyes, like he was a difficult puzzle he was trying to figure out.
“Got nothing to say?” Ben tilted his head to the side, smirk widening. His balance wavered as he pushed off the bar counter and took a step forward. They stood toe to toe. Blake was a couple of inches taller and definitely held himself taller. They glared at each other. Ben was obviously trying to get him to back down, pushing his aura in a pitiful attempt. Blake’s flared up in response. He was running heavily on instinct. More so than usual. Partially due to his drinking, but also because he realized that his usual tool, his words, wouldn’t work against Ben. “What’s the matter, bro? Wolf got your tongue?”
Blake was aware that all eyes were on them. Particularly, on him. They all wanted to see what he would do. In the back of his mind, he laughed. He was always waiting to see what he’d do. He didn’t even know. He was here, facing down his brother, but he didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t back down, though. That much was clear. He knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to punch his brother in the face. But he was smart enough to recognize that wasn’t a good idea.
Ben laughed, grinning. “Go back to your bitch.” His voice was low and growling. It was obvious he considered their fight to be over and himself to be the victor. “Every time you fuck him, remember that I was there first. You’ve got nothing but my sloppy seconds, and I’m willing to bet he’s still sloppy.” His smile turned cruel. His voice was low, and only for Blake’s ears. “He may look like an alpha, but I’m willing to bet he’s still the same slutty omega he always was.”