Chapter Text
The dark bags underneath Riley's eyes are not from the long works hours. They're not from the stress from walking home, alone late at night, with nothing but a can of mace and a set of keys to protect him from any malicious Alphas (or the occasional Beta). They're not from keeping his dumpster fire of a family out of his life.
No. It's from his brand new neighbor downstairs who will not. turn. down. his. fucking. music.
The first night was fine. It was the weekend, and he didn't have to get up early. Let them have their fun. Sure, whatever.
But every night, until four in the god-damned morning, the music is blaring, vibrating through the floor of his bedroom. Of his living room. Hell, through his fucking bathroom, he can't get away from it. And considering he has to be up at five to get ready for his other job? No.
Just no.
But, as much as Riley bitches, there's little he can do. He's seen the Alpha, once, in passing, and he looks like a mean son of a bitch. With a good foot on him, wide set shoulders, and arms like tree trunks, he is not someone Riley wants to get involved with.
After a week though, of running on maybe an hour of sleep a night, Riley is starting to get a bit... suicidal, would be the best word for it, if the fact that he is standing in front of the Alpha's door is any indication of his mental state right now. He doesn't know the man's name aside from the tiny strip of paper above the mailbox for apartment 103- Fields.
Fields, Fields, Mr. Fields.
Ugh, his head is pounding. The door is pounding. The walls.
He steels himself and knocks.
The music doesn't turn down but he knows when the man is on the other side, peeking through the peephole.
Riley is thin. Gaunt, now, from the lack of sleep. He probably looks like a junkie, and wonders if the man will open the door. There must be some deliberation, at least, because it takes a good minute before he does.
The Alpha is handsome, at least, though he might be more so if he stops glaring. It sends conflicting shivers down his spine.
“What.”
It's funny, Riley thinks, how it's both a question and not at the same time. They both know he shouldn't be here. It's unbecoming, for an Omega to show up at an Alpha's door.
Scandalous.
Or so his mother would say. But she's not here right now, and Riley isn't thinking straight. And even if she was and he was, he wouldn't care. In fact, if that were the case...
But no. Focus. Stop staring at the shirt, stretched so nicely across the man's chest.
Would it rip, if Riley grabbed him?
“The music,” Riley says. He has to fight a yawn. “I can't sleep.”
“The fuck is that my problem?”
Riley's face tightens, sees the twitch in the Alpha's, but then the larger man scoffs like he's some little fucking child, and shuts the door.
The music blasts until five in the morning again.
This time, Riley doesn't get any sleep. He's too busy planning.
***
Riley starts seeing the Alpha a lot more after that. Always in passing, with one leaving and the other entering. Sometimes he sees the Alpha sitting out on his patio as he walks by. Each time, the man gives him a smug look.
Riley learns his name is Donovan, from the landlord. He doesn't like being a tattletale, or making others deal with his problems, but the little coward just tells him that the man is an Alpha. Riley can call the police if he wants but nothing will come of it. It'll just make the Alpha mad and make things worse for him.
And Riley gets it, he does. It's not just a stereotype- Alphas are unnaturally strong. And, Omegas are characteristically weak. It's not that they can't protect themselves, but trying to do so physically usually doesn't turn out well. They might be faster, harder to grab, but, well, Riley isn't about to win in a case of arm wrestling, that's for damn sure.
He hates it though. And he thinks, there must be something he can do. He just hasn't thought of it yet.
He mulls it over a bit. A bit is an understatement- it's all he thinks about. He doesn't want to give in, to break his lease and move. That means the Alpha wins. And boy does that boil his blood to think about. Why should he get to get away with it?
There are hundreds of things that float through his head. But what it all comes down to is, how far can he push the man, before Riley gets hurt in the process?
Omegas have made great strides in the last few decades when it comes to equality, but there are still a large portion of the population that think of them as nothing more than property. Something to put their dick in and knot. Lord knows his parents think very little otherwise- not the put a dick in part, but it was a miracle they 'let' him get a place of his own.
And laws are supposedly pretty strict about harm coming to an Omega. Though, in reality it really depended on the cop that came to the scene.
It happens, a week after the 'incident' that burns in Riley's brain with shame, a glimpse into the Alpha's personality. It's an accident, too, but it's enough.
He doesn't see the Alpha coming toward him, he's got his phone out in front of his face, though he senses something rushing at him. What he doesn't know, though, is that the Alpha isn't paying attention, either.
They slam into each other, Riley bouncing off after hitting what feels like a brick wall. He manages to catch himself before falling, but he's still met with a loud “Fuck!”
The Alpha's coffee stains a dark brown on the sleeve of his white pressed shirt. He shakes a hand, flinging drops every which way. Riley flinches because it's not going to save the shirt, of course.
The Alpha exhales sharply, leveling a dark glare at the Omega, saying “I have a fucking meeting in thirty minutes.”
It's the sleep deprivation, Riley thinks later, that has him saying, “then I guess you better get going.” Before walking away.
His back is ramrod straight, waiting for the inevitable jerk of his shirt, the snarling in his face and demands for compensation- either with money or his body, but it never comes. He wonders what the man's face looks like, but Riley won't give him the satisfaction of looking back.
He won't admit that it's because he's really just too scared.
When the door is shut and locked behind him, only then does he relax and slide to the floor.
And then he plans.
***
It's going on to week three. Riley is in danger of losing not one but both of his jobs- his mood is sketchy at best, and he's already been reprimanded multiple times for going off on stupid fucking shitty customers.
Tonight, it ends.
He knocks on the door, breaths out deeply and calms himself.
Donovan, Don, Donnie, he opens the door much quicker than before. His brow is already raised, and his arms cross over his chest and he leans on the door frame. Like, what the fuck are you gonna do?
Riley is going to show him exactly what.
He grabs the shirt, pulls the Alpha in, who only moves in surprise, and Riley banks on that. He smashes their mouths together, biting down on the man's lip and pushes him into the apartment.
The kiss is hot, burning, but not as much as the brands around his waist. The tongue in his mouth.
He teases, chases it. Presses his body against the Alpha's and groans, fists tight in his shirt. He pushes and pushes until the man thumps back onto the couch. There's a split second where they separate, but Donnie is already grabbing for him, pulling him into his lap. His pupils are blown wide, high on Omega pheromones. They don't speak- the music is too loud for that anyway.
Riley rocks into him, once, twice, feels the man groan into his mouth, and then he lets go.
Omegas are weak compared to Alphas, but they have one thing that only they can do. Only to Alphas. It's a shitty thing to do, and illegal now in a lot of places, but at this point he doesn't care.
He presses his face into the Alpha's neck, nipping, licking, tasting the salt on his skin.
His teeth sink in, copper filling his mouth. It's not deep, just enough to break the skin, but the Alpha's body goes limp below him almost immediately.
When he's sure, and only then, does he back away. The Alpha's eyes are glazed over, his chest heaving. When Donnie makes no move to get up, to stop him, Riley moves away, the Alpha's eyes following him but far too weak. Far too gone. He'll be out for a half hour, at least.
There's a dark, wet patch on his sweatpants, right where his cock is still pushing up, and the smell of semen hangs heavy in the air. There's the barest hint of an outline of his knot against the pants.
Riley wants, but he's got a plan to carry out.
He goes back to the front door, and grabs the sledge hammer he's placed next to the door. It's not particularly big but still heavy in his hands.
There's a hint more alertness in the Alpha's eyes, but Donnie isn't his victim any more than he already is.
No. Riley turns to the speakers, thumping, agonizingly loud. There are two them, big and black and expensive looking. He lifts the hammer and swings it down with as much might as he can. The lights flicker as it caves in, but the music continues. He goes to the next one. This one takes him two swings, but the music abruptly cuts out, and finally, he has silence.
He wonders about smashing up the TV, too, but he thinks he might be taking things a bit further than he should now, and he hopes the Alpha realizes he's being nice.
Riley turns to the Alpha, leans over into his face and sees a spark in the man's eyes. The Alpha moans as a shiver runs through his body but Riley knows it's not fear, he's still feeling the effects of the Omega's bite.
He ignores the smell of the cum heavy air, and says, “now, I get to sleep.”
When he gets to his apartment, the sledge hammer lost somewhere in the hallway between the living room and his bedroom, he collapses into his bed. He wants to sleep but his body is too wired. All he can smell is the Alpha on his clothes, seeping into his skin. He takes his shirt off, holds it up to his nose and jams his hand into his underwear. He doesn't bother with his cock, he knows what he needs, and it's to do with the slick between his thighs.
He shoves his fingers inside, searching, finding, and finally crying out as his release shocks him.
That night, he dreams of an Alpha.