Chapter 1: I'm the Fuckin' Boss
Chapter Text
It was a Monday night, around ten o'clock, and DNAlpha was thumping. Alphas and omegas who were done with their stressful workdays and wanted some weekday fun filled the large club and made it pulse.
There were only a handful of betas milling around. They were personal friends of the Milkoviches and had invitations. Most of their staff were betas; non-threatening and friendly to Alphas, approachable to omegas, and good for business. Otherwise, it was a strictly Alpha/omega joint, and their hulking Alpha security goons at the front and back doors ensured it.
DNA didn't cater to betas. Betas were the nothings of the world and practically invisible. Omegas were the prized breeders—unless they were infertile, then they were just receptacles—and Alphas ruled them all.
Sure, there were other interpretations of how the world worked, but that was the gritty truth, and anyone with half a brain knew it.
Mickey surveyed the crowd from his VIP booth, phone in hand, the screen dark. He was expecting a call from one of their suppliers about a new delivery to replace a faulty case of PredAtor, which was the latest and supposedly greatest RE (rut enhancer) on the market.
Terry had been livid about the fall of sales after word got out to their clients about the bad batch and had threatened to chop all their tiny omega dicks off. Mickey had intervened before that happened and made sure they'd be getting triple the supply of non-faulty product in apology.
Dad made Jamie and Tony stay and watch in one of the club's backrooms while one of their Alphas took the PredAtor and proved what they were getting this time was legit and had no nasty side effects like the last one.
Lucky for them, it turned out fine, and Terry only took a single finger from the delivery guy for the trouble. That was practically a fucking thank you from his dad.
One of their signature drinks and Mickey's personal favourite, a blood-red Scent Marker in a lowball glass, sat on the end table beside him. It tasted like black cherries and whiskey and had a special ingredient that briefly intensified Alpha’s senses after consuming. The special ingredient didn't do any good shit for Mickey, but it didn’t do any bad shit, either.
He'd already gone through his mental checklist that morning like he did every morning: patches applied, Alpha silencers secured in his ears, suppressant calendar checked (9 days until the next dose), and artificial Alpha scent applied.
Everything omega about Mickey was thoroughly numbed. His natural hormones were blocked, and his skin buzzed with a concoction of simulated Alpha ingredients. The artificial scent was acrid in his nose, and the patches—which weren’t as good as the pills but were much easier to acquire—made him itch, but he was used to it. Even the highest-quality batches of omega camouflage had unpleasant side effects.
Mickey sighed and rolled his shoulders, trying to relax while he waited for the inevitable interruption from one of the staff or his brothers with another problem he'd have to fix.
He was in charge of the club tonight and most nights, though he was never really in charge. The club belonged to his dad, who made it awful clear whenever Mickey or any of his family stepped out of line that they were just the footmen helping run it.
Their DJ was pretty good tonight—none of that techno screeching from last night. Mickey eyed the Alpha up, unable to help himself. Veronica had hired him. Nice body.
Brunets weren't his thing, but whatever. He'd do.
It had been way too fucking long since his last Alpha fuck. Bedding omegas was just another chore on the checklist, something he did to keep his status. The part of himself he hated, the part deep in hiding, was thirsty for something else he could only get in secret.
The DJ turned his head, and Mickey caught sight of the dark red mark on the side of his neck. Of course. Bonded. Mickey looked away, something in the pit of his stomach going sour.
Alphas rarely cheated when they were bonded. Alphas were possessive by nature and protective over their property, especially when it came to their mates. It was rare, but some Alphas even turned feral.
Mickey’s grandfather had gone batshit insane when his grandma got hit by a car, and now he was living in a high-security Alpha prison for hunting down and killing the beta who’d been driving the car. He’d ripped the guy’s throat out with his bare teeth.
Mickey personally thought the whole mate thing, including the bonding ceremony and the bite, just ruined people. At least he didn’t have to worry about making someone go fucking crazy. He was never getting bonded.
He didn’t feel interested enough to try and snag a bonded Alpha just for a single fuck. The chances were slim that the Alpha would be interested in him, anyway, considering Mickey was essentially an Alpha. Too much fucking work all around.
Mickey unlocked his phone with his thumb and swiped it a couple of times until he reached an unnamed folder. He opened it, tapped the black A4A icon, and picked up his drink as the screen loaded.
A4A was the only hookup app out there that catered to his needs.
Twelve new messages, the app informed him.
Maybe there was hope for ending this sorry Monday with a bang after all.
Mickey was about to check the first message when one of their barbacks interrupted him with a pointed throat clearing.
“Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Milkovich. There’s a guy downstairs wanting to talk to the manager.”
Mickey put his phone down on the armrest and looked up, raising his eyebrows. “Can’t Veronica handle it? That’s her fuckin’ job...”
The barback shook his head. “She’s on break.”
He turned beet red as he said it, and Mickey glanced at the bar and noticed Kev was gone too, one of their other bartenders having taken his place. It was their fault for hiring a couple, he guessed.
Mickey sighed in annoyance and then waved his hand. “Yeah, alright, send ‘em up.”
Mickey looked back down at his phone and started scrolling through profile pictures once the pup left to go fetch. He wasn’t looking forward to dealing with some pissy Alpha or omega who had a complaint about their club, but it wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. There were a lot of divas in this business.
ΩA
It had been a particularly long day for Ian. It was past ten on Monday night, and he was walking into an Alpha club he’d never been to.
He’d started his day by carefully detaching himself from a clingy omega whom he’d promptly but gently kicked out of his apartment. As respectful as Ian tried to be with his hookups and omegas in general, this one had thrown himself down at Ian’s feet and cried when he’d said he had to leave. Ian hadn’t had time for that. He had to go to work.
He’d promised the omega he’d call him and instantly regretted it because he knew he’d never call him or see him again.
Ian didn’t like lying, but it had been a poor decision—a weak one—to bring that omega back to his apartment. Especially since the last time he’d brought an omega home, it hadn’t ended well either.
Luckily, Ian’s current building had top-notch security, and he wouldn’t run into the same problems he had back when he was just a poor barista in law school.
Once the omega was gone, Ian had spared his maid the mess by taking the dried slick and come-covered sheets off his bed and throwing them into the wash himself. Next, he’d hit the gym, and after working up a cleansing sweat, he’d scrubbed himself free of whatever omega scent lingered on him in the shower.
He had been slightly late to work, not that anyone but Debbie noticed. He was the only one who cared. He didn’t like being late.
Frank, Fiona and Lip had been holed up in Frank’s office working on some big case they didn’t need him for.
Ian ended up telling his little sister about the clinger. He’d jokingly said he might have to move again before going over what was on his agenda for the day. With the rest of his family preoccupied, Ian was able to focus on his favourite type of law: omega protection.
While most lawyers were focused on making a lot of money, Ian was quite the opposite. Money was nice, and he and his family did have a lot of it—more than they could ever need or want—but actually helping people was what Ian was interested in.
It was the low-paying or even pro bono cases that kept him motivated and passionate about what he was doing. He was a fighter, and there was nothing he loved more than helping the little guy out by winning their cases. He cared a lot—too much sometimes—but he wanted to do what was right and advise clients through their tough times by making them a lot of money.
Towards the end of the day, Ian had seen his last client, Joey. That particular omega had taken him aback. His appearance had been completely dishevelled. It was obvious he’d been coming down from something. He hadn’t been able to hold eye contact and had cradled himself, shaking as he explained to Ian what had happened to him last night and early this morning.
He’d said he was at a club and had been offered a drink that must’ve been spiked. The last thing he remembered was getting brought into a private room and getting gang-raped by a group of Alphas, just conscious enough to remember it and feel the pain.
Ian was sickened and simultaneously livid. The omega hadn’t even been to the hospital yet, clothes torn and dirty. After insisting that the omega let Ian take him, he’d stayed there with Joey while he’d gotten a rape kit done and made sure a police report was filed.
Ian had made a couple of calls and had gotten him into a battered omega shelter. He’d finally headed home at eight after he was sure Joey was safe there.
As the night went on, Ian couldn’t stop thinking about Joey and what had happened. He couldn’t shake his anger and knew he had to do something. He’d changed out of his suit and into some street clothes, heading to DNAlpha to do some investigating of his own.
The DJ was playing a Kylie Minogue song when Ian walked in. Maybe the place wasn't as seedy as he initially thought. He tried not to get too into the song, but that was impossible. Bobbing his head, he was about to start humming and dancing but snapped out of it by running his tongue over his teeth, feeling the sharpness of his canines to remind himself why he was there and that he wasn’t happy about it.
He looked out of place. Preppy as fuck compared to everyone else with his polo shirt, shorts and boat shoes like he’d come straight off a mother fucking yacht. Everyone else was rocking Chicago street style.
Ian caught a couple omegas eying him. Still, he didn’t dare maintain the contact, knowing attention was an invitation to them, and he wasn’t there for pleasure. It was bad enough that their scents were invading his senses. He didn’t need one up on him right now, even though that was what his Alpha wanted.
It only made Ian angrier that he couldn’t enjoy the music or omegas right now. He had to get to the bottom of whatever the fuck was going down there.
Ian went to the bar and asked if he could speak to whoever was in charge. The guy there asked if he could help instead, but Ian insisted that he see a manager—someone who had something to do with how this place was run.
The barback was reluctant, but he left the bar. Ian assumed he would return with someone, but instead, he returned alone. “Mickey—Mr. Milkovich—is in charge most nights. He’s in the VIP booth upstairs.” He pointed to the staircase. “Head on up.”
Ian rolled his eyes. He didn’t understand why he had to go to the guy and not the other way around, but whatever. He made the trek up the stairs, hoping the place he was going to was quieter so he could get some answers.
The first thing that hit him before he even saw the guy was his scent, which wasn’t out of the ordinary given Ian's Alpha nose, but fuck did this guy reek.
He smelled like an Alpha, but there was something really off. Kinda rotten. It was a bitter scent that stung the fuck out of Ian's nose, almost making his eyes water.
Ian cleared his throat to get Mickey's attention. “Yo, what kind of operation you running here? I heard you got private rooms with omegas and all kinds of drugs.”
Ian wasn’t being as accusatory as he wanted, figuring he could get the guy to purger himself, so he could find out if he knew what was going on with the patrons of this club.
ΩA
The first thing Mickey noticed, too, was the scent. It took a while longer for it to invade his nose (another side effect of his suppressants was it muted all omega senses) but he still had a watered-down version of it, and that scent was fuckin'... nice.
It was so nice it rolled over Mickey and almost made him bare his neck to the side in invitation instead of looking up. What the fuck?
And then Mickey got a look at those God-awful shoes, and the guy opened his mouth, and Mickey quickly snapped out of whatever weird moment he'd been in. He needed to get his fix soon, Jesus Christ.
Mickey looked up from his phone and met the Alpha's eyes with his cool gaze. Under the dark lights of the private booth, it was hard to see everything, but that sheen of dark hair was the exact colour of Mickey's favourite drink.
Pretty face, too, but the rest of the Alpha looked like a spoiled rich college kid on vacation and stuck out like a sore thumb. Mickey didn’t bother standing up.
“This is a sex-friendly club, man,” he said, quirking an eyebrow. “Our private rooms are licensed. Our security staff also take great care in keepin' this establishment safe.”
That wasn't a lie since the shit they sold wasn't through the club but through their hired dealers, who weren't allowed to sell or use anywhere near DNA.
When it came to the club itself, Mickey made sure they kept a close eye on any activity that could potentially garner attention and harm their reputation or his family.
It took every ounce of Mickey's willpower not to tell the guy to go back home to Daddy Warbucks because it was probably past his bedtime, though.
Ian was taken aback by the response but even more so by how icy blue the stranger’s eyes looked, even in the dim light. “This place doesn’t seem all that secure. Nobody was guarding the entrance up here, and it’s the VIP booth? Guess it isn’t preoccupied since it’s a Monday, right? Unless you had some plans,” he said pointedly—almost accusatorily, due to his occupation and assumption about this place letting bad shit happen to good people.
Mickey smiled insincerely. “Nobody needs to guard the entrance up here because I’m the fuckin’ boss, and any plans I have are nobody’s business but my own. Our two other VIP booths have bouncers.”
Mickey gestured across the club to the opposite side, where two smaller but equally elevated booths were located, and his bouncers were lurking in the shadows.
Ian looked around. It didn’t look like all that, especially compared to the places he was used to. There were a couple of leather couches, tables—and bottle service, no doubt—but the best part about the room was the fantastic view over the entire club.
“Right, so sex friendly, safe and secure... You didn’t answer me about the drugs. Maybe I’m interested in buying if you tell me what you got? Or renting out this room, how much would that be?” Ian pressed.
Mickey didn’t like how this Alpha was acting. He wasn’t just some dumb partier. Not some strung-out druggie looking to score. This guy didn’t carry himself like a pig, either, but that didn’t mean anything. Mickey had had about enough of the unsubtle poking already.
He didn’t know who the fuck this knothole was, but he was ending this conversation now.
“If you’re interested in booking this booth, you’ll have to fill out a form with Mandy at the admin office at least twenty-four hours in advance. Or online, on our website. All the information you want is there. Otherwise, I can’t help you.”
Ian’s mind was quick at work, piecing together a plan. He could have the club’s records subpoenaed to see who had taken advantage of and hurt his client due to the fact that the rooms had to be reserved.
Then again, Joey had been assaulted by multiple people, and the room was probably reserved with a fake name anyway, which would only waste his time and resources.
If Ian was going to get anything, he’d have to obtain it from Mickey because he could possibly know or have an idea of who was responsible for this crime.
Ian stepped closer to the Alpha so he could get a better look at him.
The hair stood up on Mickey’s arms, and he stood up, putting his hand up to stop him, his heart beating strangely fast as more of the Alpha’s features came into view. “That’s close enough, red.”
Ian was surprised by Mickey’s shorter stature and even more taken aback by his tone. Suddenly, Ian felt defensive and wanted to push his chest right into the guy’s outstretched palm and fucking go. He even felt a growl bubbling up in his chest, threatening to come out.
Mickey tensed, too, but didn't drop eye contact like the omega in him wanted him to do, keeping his chin up. For a few long seconds, where his heartbeat was the only thing he heard, he was sure the Alpha was going to start something, maybe even attack him.
Ian couldn’t act like an Alpha right now, as much as his instincts were telling him to. He knew that probably wouldn’t end too well. While he could take Mickey, there was no way he could take his bouncers after, especially from the looks of the one guarding the front entrance. They’d sure as hell come in there if there was too much commotion coming from their boss’ spot.
Ian put his hands up and took a couple of steps back.
Mickey didn't react other than to relax slightly and lower his own hand.
Despite the heavy sense of wrong in his gut whenever he challenged an Alpha and the nauseous but proud feeling when he won a fight, Mickey wouldn't have hesitated to take this Alpha down if he had to, and he sure as fuck wouldn’t have needed his bouncers to come save him.
Ian sighed as he let his arms drop to his sides. “I think you can help me. It just depends on if you even remotely give a fuck. And if you aren’t taking part in the drugging and raping of omegas in your club.”
Genuine confusion and surprise replaced his irritation and flickered across Mickey’s face when the Alpha dropped his act and revealed why he was there. Mickey’s lips parted.
What in the fuck...? Last night, he had been there keeping a close eye on things, and their security team were people his whole family trusted. He would have noticed. They wouldn’t have let something like that fucking go down. It didn’t make sense.
The Alpha was a lawyer, then. ‘Course, they were usually dramatic as all fuck. He should've known.
This was exactly what they needed, though: some court case about an attack at their club and police potentially snooping around. Shit. This wasn’t fucking good.
Besides that, it irked Mickey that the Alpha had already made a snap judgment about him, especially after he’d come in there slinging accusations. He looked like he wouldn’t give a fuck about something awful happening in his business and apparently looked like the type of person who would drug and rape an omega for fun?
He’d done a lot of terrible things in his life, still did, but he’d never hurt a defenceless omega. His sister was an omega. His mother had been an omega. It made his stomach churn because something like that had already happened to his sister in the past.
Their club was supposed to be a safe space. It was just a safe space that also happened to be a front for all their black-market goods.
Ian lifted his arm to run a hand through his hair, mainly to look Mickey over discreetly. He definitely liked what he saw and wished Mickey was an omega because if he was, he’d surely give Ian whatever he wanted and then some. “I have a client that was assaulted here last night. I wanna find out who’s responsible. You think you could be gracious enough to release that information to me, or do you want your business drug through the mud in the media and in court?”
Ian thought he had to put it all out there if this guy wasn’t gonna give him the time of day. This was him trying to be nice and giving the other Alpha the chance to do the right thing.
Mickey finally moved to sit back down. “You might as well take a seat,” he said.
His phone chimed a couple of times, lighting up and buzzing on the couch’s arm as Ian sat down. Mickey picked it up and glanced at it, but it was just someone sending him a new message on A4A, not the supplier. He couldn’t speak to them until after he sorted this out anyway, so he silenced his phone and closed the app, locking his screen.
Ian watched the other Alpha, trying to see what was on the screen. He only saw A4 before the phone was set aside.
“Alright, first things first, who are you, and who do you work for? If you’d be so gracious as to share,” Mickey added, a touch sardonically. “Second, you mentioned omegas. Plural. But it was just the one? What time did your client come here? Did they describe who attacked them? Were they using one of our rooms? Tell me everything you know.”
Mickey picked up his drink and brought the sugared rim to his lips, downing the rest in three deep swallows before setting it back down on the leather coaster. He licked his lips to rid them of sugar crystals and waited for the Alpha to explain.
There was no use getting all bent out of shape or letting his mind take off into a panicked frenzy. Mickey could keep this contained and settle it quickly if he just cooperated.
What went down in this club was unknown to Ian. He knew it probably wasn't just recreational drinking, drugs and sex, though. All he actually knew, which wasn’t much, was what his client had told him.
Ian didn’t feel bad about his assumptions either; nightclubs and the people who ran them didn’t have the highest morals, best of reputations or intentions. His assumptions had to be made. Whether they were right or not didn’t matter. It was a way to find out what the truth was.
He was just glad Mickey was willing to talk to him—even if he had to be threatened by legal action, but that usually worked anyway.
“Ian Gallagher," Ian introduced himself. "I work at Gallagher & Gallagher… It’s our family law office. There’s four of us. I specialize in omega protection law and handle the majority of these kinds of cases. I represent all omegas, but mostly the ones who can’t afford good legal representation.”
Ian didn’t know much about Mickey. The bartender had called him Mr. Milkovich, so Ian knew his first and last name and that he ran the place.
Mickey raised an eyebrow. OPL wasn’t generally a field Alphas were interested in. As far as Mickey knew, it was rare. Most didn’t even really consider it a respectable law. The lawyers who did specialize in it were usually granola-munching, sign-waving, raving lunatic omegas who couldn’t be taken seriously. Maybe Gallagher was an Alpha with white knight syndrome or a hero complex who would love having a bunch of grateful omegas batting their eyes at him for saving them. That seemed like the only realistic reason.
The company name was familiar, though. He wondered if they were all as charming as Red here.
Mickey thought he remembered seeing one of them on the news, though it hadn’t been Gallagher’s face on the TV. Real schmoozy lookin’ asshole with a wrinkled face. Gallagher’s dad? Or maybe an uncle.
Mickey wasn’t a fan of lawyers. Though who fuckin’ was unless they were defending you?
“My client’s name is Joey, typical looking twink… thin… He wasn’t wearing much. Cut-off shorts, black mesh shirt. His eyes are blue, but they’re darker than yours…” Ian couldn't drop his gaze even though he wanted to. Talking about what had happened to his client with a stranger was hard.
Mickey listened as Gallagher spoke, leaning forward slightly with his forearms on his knees, tuning out the muted thumping of the music and focusing on his voice. Ignoring the small tingle going up and down his spine with each uttered syllable.
“When he came to me, he was coming off of something that he said was slipped into his drink here last night. He told me he remembered being invited into a private room by someone who bought him the drink. He was in and out of consciousness but said at least five guys assaulted him.”
Mickey almost grimaced. At least five guys. Jesus. Even slicked up and in heat, that wouldn’t end pretty.
“When he showed up at the office, it was obvious he was fucked up,” Ian continued. “I took him to the hospital, and he needed a rape kit… So. Was there a room rented by a group or a room that had a lot of people in it? Where something like this could’ve happened? You ever seen him here?”
Mickey was the one to finally break their stare, looking down at his empty glass because it had been surprisingly easy to listen but was now proving hard to think with Gallagher’s eyes on him. Mickey worried his lower lip with his teeth as he cycled through the night in his head. “We get a lot of groups... you’d be surprised,” Mickey said. Or maybe Gallagher wouldn’t be surprised. “Also, that description could fit a lot of fuckin’ guys we see in here. I see at least a dozen omega twinks a night.”
Ian sighed. “Yeah, I figured as much.”
Since Ian came to the club without doing much research—on a whim, honestly—he wasn’t really prepared. He'd wanted to strike while the iron was hot and probably wouldn’t have gotten much sleep if he hadn't at least gotten started tonight.
Ian knew that the description of his client was generic. Joey wasn’t exactly as basic as described. He was pretty cute. Ian knew his words wouldn’t do Joey justice.
Mickey lifted his head, linking his fingers together. “More than one group was booked yesterday, and I know that for sure. We have four larger rooms, so that would narrow it down to one of those. I’ll have to check our computer at the office to see who booked them and when. Maybe one of ‘em was stupid enough to leave their real name.”
Doubtful, but it was worth checking.
“And I’ll talk to our bartender and bouncers who were workin’ last night.” Mickey’s face darkened as he wondered if one of his bouncers had purposefully turned a blind eye and put the club in danger. If that was the case, when Mickey found out who it was, that head was going to fucking roll. “You don’t have a specific time? Even a general hour he was brought to the room? When he left?”
“I think he said he showed up around eleven,” Ian said.
Mickey tried to think of all the omegas he saw last night from eleven to close. Mickey tended to notice the omegas in his club less than the Alphas. Not on purpose—well, sometimes on purpose—his gaze went right over them. He wasn’t about to mention that.
Ian pulled his phone out of his pocket and quickly Googled his client’s full name. The last name was kind of unique, so maybe Ian could find him and at least have a picture to show Mickey. After a minute of silence, Ian found Joey's Instagram. He tapped on the first picture. It looked like Joey was in a club. Scrolling further down, Ian saw that the photo was from last night, and the club was tagged. Ian leaned over to show Mickey. “This is him. Looks like he was here.”
For some reason, Ian wasn’t as bothered by the other Alpha’s smell anymore, the bitterness fading into sweetness, which was odd.
Mickey stared at the picture. It was a selfie, but a few people were visible behind Joey and around him at the bar. And then one sitting on a stool next to him and... looking right at Joey, unseen.
“That guy,” Mickey said, pinching his fingers on the screen to zoom in on the blond. “I think I saw him. Did Joey come with a friend? Or could that be the Alpha who bought him the drink?”
It was also really fuckin’ likely it was just a random who’d gotten caught in the picture, but something about the way he was looking at Gallagher’s client was poking something in Mickey’s memory.
Skin prickling with a sudden intensity, Mickey leaned away, having unintentionally gotten closer to Gallagher while he was examining the picture.
Mickey scratched the side of his neck to get rid of the itch while Gallagher was busy looking at the picture again. He forced himself to stop before he left marks with his nails. He’d have to get some new scent-blocking patches. These ones were flaring up worse than usual.
Ian shook his head. The man kind of stood out, but Ian couldn’t determine if he was the perp or not. “He came alone. Was looking for a hookup, but obviously, it went horribly wrong from there.”
Ian knew that his client probably didn’t have the best reputation, but he was still searching for the truth, whatever that was. Just because Joey was looking to get some didn’t mean he should’ve been assaulted.
“You guys have any security cameras? They could’ve caught something. Maybe some of Joey’s interactions with people before he went up to the room?” Ian looked back up at Mickey and noticed his neck was red. “You having an allergic reaction or something?”
Mickey shrugged, though he felt uneasy that Gallagher had noticed something. “Must be my new detergent,” he lied, tugging his collar away from his neck.
The four areas on his body where his patches were stuck were starting to become irritated, too. It was hard not to curl his hands into fists to stop himself from scratching.
“At first, I thought you reeked.” Ian laughed, looking Mickey over as a small smile formed on his lips. “Must be that detergent, though, because after a while, that bad smell went away. Since it doesn’t smell all that great and it’s irritating you, you should probably throw it out when you get home.”
Mickey’s eyebrows shot up high on his forehead, but inside, his heart missed a beat because if his scent was changing, that meant the patches were fucking failing enough that his omega scent could be detected through his Alpha spray.
Who knew how much longer they’d keep him covered, or if they were even covering him at all anymore? He needed to get to his supplies before it got worse.
“Oh yeah, I’ll get right on that.” Sarcasm. “Ya know, you don’t exactly smell like a basket of fuckin’ roses either,” Mickey said, even though Gallagher smelled even fucking better than roses. He smelled like fucking omega crack.
“Never got a complaint yet. I ain’t taking the fact that I don’t smell like roses as a bad thing, either.” Ian grinned.
Ian knew exactly what his scent did to most omegas and betas. Hell, sometimes he even had a couple of Alphas' heads turning in his direction when he walked by.
“We got a couple of cameras,” Mickey said, steering the conversation back to Joey before he did something like visibly inhale. “By the doors, hidden one in the bar. No audio, only video.”
It was required now that all clubs had surveillance in the public areas. Not many people took kindly to knowing they were being watched, though, of course. The sex club aspect and the private rooms and booths helped their other business, too.
“It’ll take me a while to get that footage for you and talk to my employees. You’ll have to come back tomorrow.”
Ian was slightly disappointed they couldn’t review the tapes now. Figuring if there was anything incriminating on them, the club could easily delete the files, but it wasn’t like he was police or had a warrant. “Alright, but let me get your number. I’m unsure if my schedule will allow me to stop by tomorrow, during the day at least.”
Ian swiped to his contacts before handing the phone over to Mickey so he could put his info in.
Mickey accepted Gallagher’s phone and started tapping in his number. After he handed the phone back, it occurred to him that he probably should have given the lawyer DNA’s number, not his personal one.
Ian fired off a text to Mickey with the fire emoji that said It’s red, so Mickey had his number, too.
Mickey picked up his phone when he saw it light up, mouth and eyebrow twitching despite his best effort not to react.
“I didn’t think I’d get this far tonight," Ian admitted. "I just don’t think I could’ve fallen asleep tonight if I didn’t try somethin’, you know? After hearing his story.”
That was what Ian did this for. It wasn’t for himself. It was for his client.
Mickey nodded, a little surprised. “Feel free to stay a little longer and have a drink on me.”
Fuck, why did he just offer that? Mickey wanted Gallagher out of here ASAP—though it’d probably look better if he wasn’t pushing the guy out the fuckin’ door. His skin was practically screaming at him.
Ian stood up from the couch. Whatever the other Alpha was drinking looked pretty damn good, and it’d probably help him sleep. “I think I’ll take you up on that. I want whatever you were having, but I don’t think I want to chance it unless you’re up for personally making me the drink yourself.” Ian raised his eyebrows, a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips.
Mickey shook his head, trying not to stare. Those sharp teeth and that cocky tone were doing things to him. He could feel his attraction to the Alpha, and he needed to put a fuckin’ stop to it before it grew any further. Gallagher could potentially fuck shit up for DNA if he didn’t find what he needed.
He was glad Gallagher had come on a night his dad wasn’t here, at least. Terry’s temper was ten times worse than Mickey’s, and he probably would have made Gallagher run straight back to his office, ready to destroy them.
Mickey finally stood up, too. He wasn't usually this fucking slow. “Our bartender makes a better one. You’ll be aight, red, I promise. But if you’re too scared, we can watch him make it. C’mon.”
Ian couldn’t believe his luck. He already had a break in the case. He'd placed his client at the club at the time of the crime, and on top of that, Mickey was actually being cooperative. Considering that his threat and persistence hadn’t caused a major complication to fuck it up, Ian was feeling pretty damn good.
While Ian's thoughts, words and actions could be strategic, he kind of flew by the seat of his pants. He was getting closer to the truth so he could relax a bit, which would be easy now that he was getting a free drink.
Mickey led the way downstairs, getting a hair-raising sensation that Gallagher’s eyes were on him as he walked.
Ian took a long, unabashed look at Mickey’s ass. He couldn’t help it. Something about Mickey was magnetic, pulling Ian in. Damn, his ass looked perky. The bounciness of it made Ian want to bury his face against it, then put his cock inside it. It almost made him wish he was into Alphas and simultaneously considering hooking up with at least this one.
Mickey took them over to the bar, relaxing more as they entered the crowd, and his scent joined the others. With so many people around, it took more work to pick out individual scents.
Kev was busy with a customer, but he grinned at Mickey when he saw him and raised his eyebrows. As soon as he was done, he came loafing over to them. “Nice to see you with some company, Mick. He’s been way too grouchy lately,” he added to Gallagher.
Kev was one of the only people who knew that Mickey occasionally hooked up with Alphas, though he didn’t know Mickey was an omega. So, of course, when he saw Mickey coming out of the VIP booth with Gallagher in tow, he got the wrong idea.
“Kev,” Mickey said, “this ain’t personal. It’s business. Would you please shut the fuck up?”
Kev didn’t look too bothered by the information. “See what I mean?” he continued, ignoring Mickey. “So damn wound up.” He smiled. “What can I get you guys?”
Mickey told Kev to make Gallagher a Scent Marker on the house. “You got lipstick on your fuckin’ neck, by the way. You know I don’t pay you to fuck Veronica. Don’t think I didn’t notice that was longer than a fifteen-minute break.”
Kev laughed as he started making Gallagher’s drink, which included whiskey, cherry syrup, black cherry soda, bitters, and their special ingredient, muddled. “Oh, I’m sorry, you’re just jealous of my sexual prowess! You’d never last longer than fifteen minutes.”
Vee appeared from the back with a case of booze and smirked, having overheard. “He wishes. Don’t worry, baby, one day...”
Mickey rolled his eyes at the both of them as she put the case down and leaned across the bar to pat his cheek.
Ian couldn’t help but smile because it was obvious that Mickey and the bartender had a pretty good relationship. He could tell and sense that Mickey was wound the fuck up. Kev was sexy, and it was funny that he was insinuating that Mickey got some from him.
If all goes well, Ian thought, business could turn into pleasure. If Mickey was up for it or into Alphas, that was.
Kevin’s remarks also confirmed one of Ian’s suspicions about what Mickey was doing up in that booth. He just listened, though, happy to keep his mouth shut so he didn’t say the shit he was thinking out loud, but then Veronica showed up, and his eyes went to her.
She was attractive also. He wasn’t into women but couldn’t deny her beauty or presence.
“Thanks,” Ian said once the drink was placed in front of him. It looked and smelled sweet. He took a sip, and instantly his senses felt heightened.
Veronica threw her braids over her shoulder and looked Gallagher over as she started restocking. “And who’s this fine-ass piece of Alpha?”
Ian grinned. “Ian Gallagher. I’m going to be working with Mickey on one of my cases. I’m an attorney with Gallagher & Gallagher.”
There was no need to bring up that he had threatened Mickey into it. He liked both of them so far, and they could help him, too.
Mickey found his eyes straying to Gallagher to see how he reacted to Veronica’s come-on. She and Kev were together (not bonded, since Kev was a beta and the bite didn’t take to them), but they still swung. Only Veronica was allowed to decide who with, as Alpha.
He couldn’t tell by Gallagher’s reaction if he seemed interested. He wasn’t really posturing. Cool as a cucumber. Mickey didn't know whether it was because Veronica was a woman or because she was an Alpha.
He also wasn’t sure why it mattered to him since he had already decided that being interested in Gallagher was a stupid fucking idea.
Veronica’s expression changed, becoming a bit more guarded. “Veronica Fisher. Manager of DNAlpha. Nice to meet you.”
Mickey could tell she was alarmed by what Gallagher said and wanted to ask about it, but he shot her a look that told her they’d talk about it later. He didn’t want to get into it right now, especially not in public when they were surrounded by customers who could overhear and spread gossip on their Instagrams and TickTicks and shit.
As friendly as Kev and V were, they knew when to be discreet and keep their mouths shut to protect DNA. Mickey wasn’t worried about them spilling any beans to Gallagher.
Ian didn’t like the sudden change in Veronica after he told her he was a lawyer. She turned from warm and inviting to ice cold. It wasn’t the typical response he got when he told people his occupation either. Especially after they'd just hit on him. That fact usually added to his appeal and people’s interest in him.
It made Ian question the club’s activities further. Maybe there was something to hide considering how she'd clammed the fuck up.
“Nice to meet you, too,” Ian still managed to reply, even though Veronica had already busied herself with the cases of booze and was actively ignoring him.
"Excuse me, gentlemen, but duty calls." Kev excused himself to go take care of another customer who was flagging him down.
Mickey could feel his phone buzzing against his thigh. He knew it was the supplier this time because it didn’t stop ringing. That, combined with how his skin felt like it’d been rubbed against sandpaper, prompted Mickey to make his exit. He couldn’t miss this call, or his dad would have his fuckin’ head, and he needed to get his scent blocker situation covered the fuck up.
“‘Aight, I’m gonna leave ya now,” Mickey said, moving away from the bar. “Can’t say it was nice to meet you, Gallagher, but I hope we get this cleared up soon. Enjoy the rest of your night.”
Ian couldn’t stop the disappointment that flashed over his face. He was kind of digging him. All the omegas Ian had been with had never had that kind of ambition.
Sure, they had the ambition to be Ian's mate and to get mated, but they didn’t really have their own thing going. They weren’t bosses of businesses like Alphas were, like this Alpha was. He was hoping Mickey would stick around until he finished his drink.
Ian took another sip while he moved back from the bar, too. “Can’t say it was under the best of circumstances, but it ended up being nice to meet you.”
Ian reached out to shake Mickey’s hand before he could get away. Mostly to thank Mickey for being cooperative but also because he wanted to touch him. When his hand clasped Mickey’s, it felt like an electric shock arised between them, making Mickey pull his hand back right away. Must’ve been static friction.
After that, Mickey moved out of there like a bat out of hell.
“Alright, see you tomorrow!” Ian called after him. He sighed and pulled his phone out, ordering an Uber before throwing his drink back and returning the glass to the bar.
Chapter 2: He's Mine
Chapter Text
As soon as Mickey got home, he ripped off his scent-blocking patches and jumped into the shower. It was odd because the last few times he'd used this particular brand of patch, he’d itched a little but hadn’t had a reaction more potent than that.
This time was much different. Bright, angry red rashes stood out all over his body. He felt like someone had taken sandpaper to his skin, and even once he’d washed every part of himself with soap, the discomfort barely eased.
His omega scent took over, saturating his apartment with sweetness when he emerged from the steam-filled room. Mickey grimaced. He ended up opening all of his windows just to get it to dissipate.
He didn’t sleep, either—too hot, tossing and turning in his bed, getting twisted in the covers until he threw them off in frustration and gave up.
The rashes started fading by morning, which was a fuckin’ relief. He was able to acquire some new scent blockers after a pissed as fuck call to his dealer. Mickey slapped on six of them to be safe. Maybe these ones would actually do their fucking job.
It was shit bad luck. First, with the supplier giving them faulty RE, now his personal products were acting out?
It had to be this damn case messing with his head, too. Gallagher had texted him to meet up to go over the security tapes in the morning, but Mickey was nowhere near ready. He felt like a chicken running around with its head cut off, trying to get information from staff and making sure everything and everyone was covered.
Mickey talked to their bartender, who didn't remember Joey. He spoke to security, who were working that night, and got jack fuckin' squat from them. Nobody saw Joey, heard a thing, or noticed anything off—which meant either Joey was a fucking ghost, Joey was a punk-ass who was trying to con them with a fake story, or somebody was fucking lying.
But Mickey didn’t have time to use any of his intimidation tactics to find out who the liar was, and he couldn't keep Gallagher away from the club forever.
He had Iggy look at the security tapes from last night and had only gotten them back an hour ago with the all-clear. Mickey texted the lawyer after that, letting him know he could come between four and nine when they opened DNA, to knock on the back door, and he'd let him in.
All the while, he didn't feel right. Lightheaded whenever he stood up, dizzy when an Alpha's scent hit him, and just on the edge of sweaty.
It was almost like... but it couldn't be. It wasn't even close. He had eight days left before his next cycle. He was probably just coming down with a bug.
Mickey set up a laptop with the security footage in the control room. None of their employees except for Kev and Veronica were there yet, and Terry wouldn't be around unless something else went wrong with the delivery Mickey had set up last night, so at least he didn't have to worry about anybody barging in.
As he waited for Gallagher to show, Mickey still couldn't relax. He'd dressed in his most comfortable clothes, nothing constricting or stiff, but it still felt like too fucking much. Even cranking up the A/C didn't help.
And thinking about Gallagher and his Alpha smell and his cocky fuckin' grin definitely didn't help.
ΩA
Ian was in court, representing a client with his brother, Lip. He didn’t have to do anything but sit there. The visual representation of two lawyers was more powerful than his actually needing to contribute.
While Ian cared about this particular case and had helped, his brother had taken the reins on this one. Lip was representing the client while Ian was only consulting on the case, and much to his dismay, it was taking all fucking day.
Most of his mind had been on Mickey, though, so that was entertaining. Ian had to stop himself from smiling. Mickey had said he couldn’t come to DNA until four. Luckily, court ran late, so Ian didn’t look like an eager beaver since it was four-thirty by the time they were done.
Ian didn’t bother going home since his apartment was in the opposite direction of the club. The courthouse was in a seedier part of town, and by default, it was just closer to the club than his penthouse.
While he had been underdressed last night, Ian was completely overdressed in a fitted navy blue suit tonight. He checked his phone when he got to DNA to make sure Mickey’s text said he should go to the back door like he thought he’d read earlier. He glanced at his Rolex after knocking. It was approaching five o’clock.
The second the door pulled open, Ian almost got knocked over by the obnoxious scent that billowed out of the open door, flowing directly into his nostrils. Ian wanted to turn back around that instant and cough, it was so strong, but he stifled it with an inward groan and a slightly disgruntled expression on his face.
As Mickey opened the door for Gallagher, his hand almost slipped off the handle because that was how much he had started to fucking sweat as soon as the Alpha walked in, and his scent hit Mickey.
And Gallagher looked... fuck, really put together. Almost intimidating in his sharply cut suit. He also had an expression on his face like he had just taken a bite out of a lemon but was trying to pretend he hadn’t.
The stupid omega in Mickey, the one that wanted to be appealing to Alphas, to be admired and chased, always took a hit at their reactions to his scent. Even though it wasn’t his natural scent, his body didn’t know that was why and took it as rejection from a potential mate. He was unsettled by how hard he felt it this time.
Ian managed to breathe only through his mouth and forced out a, “Hey, thanks for letting me come back,” and extended his hand to shake Mickey’s since he was in full lawyer mode.
Ian felt that little zap again when their hands met, jogging his memory of how electric it felt to shake Mickey’s hand last night, but then Mickey did the same thing, ripping it away like he’d been burned.
The fuck was with this guy? Mickey’s hand felt really fucking sweaty, too.
Mickey had hoped Gallagher wouldn’t insist on shaking his hand again, but there he was, and Mickey couldn’t avoid it without looking like a complete knothole. It was an unpleasant, slightly damp shake, but Gallagher’s touch briefly scent marked him and set his skin tingling, just like it had the night before. Mickey wiped Gallagher’s scent off on his pants.
He probably looked like a fuckin’ nervous wreck, which wouldn’t help him seem innocent. He couldn’t even blame it on being sick and contagious because Alphas were immune to most viruses. Lucky them. Omegas were more vulnerable.
Mickey shrugged at Gallagher’s thank you, looking away. “You didn’t give me much of a fuckin’ choice,” he said as he led them to the control room.
It was a lot more casual of a space than it sounded, with a comfy leather couch, coffee table and a mini-fridge taking up the area beside the wall of monitors. Mickey had cleaned up the dirty bong and all the beer cans Iggy had left lying around. Fuckin’ animal.
The defence attorney in Ian flared up along with his Alpha at the shitty remark. “While that may be true, I’m trying to speed up the process. Would you rather deal with the police? I just wanna get the guy who did this, not drag you and your business through the mud, man. I’m doing you a favor.”
Ian felt one hundred percent justified in his reasoning and confident in his decision to take matters into his own hands. He was quick to dismiss Mickey’s comment about it being inconvenient. “Joey didn’t have a choice either.”
Ian wished Mickey wouldn’t be so reluctant to trust him. He kept insinuating that the situation was inconvenient. He knew that it wasn’t the best situation to be in, but ultimately, he was glad Mickey was helping him.
Mickey didn’t know what Gallagher wanted. A thank you? He wasn’t going to get that. It was inconvenient to have something like this happen in their business, and he didn’t trust the lawyer to keep his word. He never said it wasn’t worth the inconvenience.
So far, Gallagher seemed like a holier-than-thou asshole—though Mickey did respect his tenacity. Just a little.
“Okay. You don’t gotta preach to me, Gallagher. You’ve already made up your mind that I don’t give a shit, right? I don’t want this to happen in my establishment again. I’m working with you to find out how the fuck it did happen. End of story.”
Mickey pulled a couple of stools out instead of having them sit on the couch. He opened his laptop, booting it up for them and banging the side of the screen impatiently when it took too long.
“See anything on the videos?” Ian asked, turning his attention to the security monitors with a tick in his jaw.
Mickey picked up the flash drive with the footage and plugged it into the laptop, clicking away on the trackpad to open the folder. “Haven’t watched them yet, haven’t had the time.”
That was the actual truth. Along with all the shit he’d done today for Gallagher and his business, he still had a club to take care of.
Mickey sat down, trying not to let his gaze wander towards that sharply cut figure, focusing instead on getting the video files open. “I did find out who reserved our larger rooms after Joey got here. There were two groups. One at midnight and another at a quarter to one.”
Mickey cleared his throat and handed Gallagher the papers beside the laptop with all the reservation information from Sunday night. He sighed softly when the air conditioner cut in, and the ice-cool breeze hit the back of his neck and shoulders. At least he was wearing a black shirt, so his pit stains weren’t showing.
Even with the majority of Ian’s skin covered by his suit, it was surprisingly cooler than other stuffy establishments around the city. It felt good, though, due to how unusually hot it had been. A chill quickly set in as he unbuttoned his jacket to sit on one of the stools. The couches looked way more inviting, and his ass had just spent most of the day sitting on a wooden chair in court. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be there too long.
Ian picked up the papers so he could read them over. He wasn’t sure what they’d see on the tapes. Honestly, he was surprised Mickey hadn’t had the chance to watch them since he'd set their meeting time. Talk about not being prepared.
Mickey pressed play on the first video. They were separated by the hour, so he chose the first one at eleven. He tried not to tense up as Gallagher leaned closer, invading his personal space more than Mickey was comfortable with in his current... whatever this was. A flu. It was really fucking distracting. He bit his tongue on a, “Do you fuckin’ mind?” and tried to focus on the screen, watching as person after person swarmed the bar. He sped up the video so it’d go faster, waiting for Gallagher to tell him when he saw Joey.
Ian tried to focus. He could feel himself warming up, blaming it on the annoyance he was still feeling and not the closeness between them. He decided it was best not to continue to bicker with Mickey. Ian was good at arguing, after all, and used to winning. Despite having the last word, Mickey wasn’t on the winning side of this.
After watching for a few minutes, Ian saw Joey taking the selfie he found yesterday. “There.” Ian placed his hand on Mickey’s arm to get him to pause the video.
Mickey’s finger slipped. The skin around his scent blockers pulsed and started to itch. Mickey shook off Gallagher’s grip, really close to snapping at him to quit fucking touching him because it was doing weird shit to him, but the scene that was unfolding on screen grabbed his attention.
Curly blond hair, slumping shoulders, and an awkward smile.
Ian rolled his eyes before focusing on the screen again. Joey got a drink from somebody with blond hair. “That dude kinda looks like your blond double. You see him before? He related to you?”
The resemblance was uncanny.
“Colin,” Mickey said. Why hadn’t he checked the files after Iggy did? He hadn’t even fucking considered...
Mickey felt himself growing defensive immediately because there was no fuckin’ way. “My brother. He wouldn’t...” Mickey shook his head. “He ain’t that kinda guy, man. He ain’t even an Alpha.” Colin was harmless. A beta. A dumbass, for sure, but not someone who would drug and rape an omega. In a group, no less. “There’s gotta be another guy who offered him a drink.”
Ian moved his hand to itch his nose, and he got a hint of an omega’s scent. Confused, he took a deep breath, and his lungs filled with sweetness.
Mickey watched as Joey gave Colin a condescending smile visible even on their grainy footage and said something to Colin that made him look down at his feet. Colin left, and Joey stayed at the bar, rolling his eyes to himself. He downed the drink a few seconds later.
Mickey bit his lip and rewound, tracking Colin’s path, but his brother had come from off-screen. He fast-forwarded, looking for someone else. It couldn’t have been Colin. Mickey was so concentrated on the footage that he didn’t realize Gallagher’s focus had shifted to him, nostrils flared and eyes dark. Mickey only realized when their shoulders brushed together, and he turned his head.
Gallagher’s hand was up by his face. The hand he’d just touched Mickey with.
Mickey straightened up and quirked an eyebrow, pausing the video. “Been a while, huh, Gallagher? That’s my omega you’re gettin’ a whiff of.”
He wanted to suck the words back in as soon as they came out because that made it sound like he was attached to one. Though, it was an okay cover if his scent blockers were failing yet a-fucking-gain. It’d be the same scent Gallagher got last night. It was typical for Alphas to brag about their omegas and to posture when other Alphas looked interested in their own.
Ian wasn’t convinced. For once, he didn’t have a response. That was too much information. It was too quick of a response, and usually, responses that rapid were a lie. How did Mickey know what he was thinking anyway and that he smelled something unless he was worried about it? Ian dropped his arm and didn’t respond at all to the unsubtle brag.
Maybe he was jealous. He didn’t know. Ian could have any omega he wanted, but something about Mickey... Fuck, he didn’t know. Something was off, and he could feel it with every fiber of his being.
While Ian's mind was confused, his senses weren’t. They were never wrong—maybe tricked this time, though. Mickey didn’t smell scented. He smelled bad to Ian. From bitter to slightly sweet, and then so sweet it made Ian's mouth water.
It wasn’t a second-hand omega odor. Mickey didn’t have a mark, either. He wasn’t mated. That kind of second-hand scent wouldn’t transfer to skin.
“Your brother, huh?” Ian said instead. He wasn’t there to figure out what Mickey was lying about. “He just works here, right? Something could’ve been slipped into Joey’s drink after he got it. Your brother looks innocent enough.” Ian didn’t think that dopey-looking beta had anything to do with this. “Just keep playing it.”
Mickey almost blushed. Gallagher didn’t take the bait at all, just changed the subject back to what he was there for, cool as a fuckin’ cucumber, making Mickey wish he hadn’t said anything. Now it was awkward as fuck. He felt like he couldn’t think clearly. He was losing his shit and jumping the gun. He needed to chill the fuck out. Why was that so goddamn hard today?
Mickey looked back towards the screen and pressed play before wiping his hands on his pants for what felt like the tenth time. Sweat rolled down his back under his shirt, his skin once again growing patchy and red. Detergent. Shit, that’s what he’d blamed it on last night. He should’ve just stuck with that.
“My whole family does,” he answered. “Colin’s soft. He wouldn’t hurt no one, even if he fuckin’ wanted to.”
His whole family worked there? So, Mickey was in his family’s business, too. They had something in common then. Ian didn’t mean to throw Colin under the bus; he was just curious about who Mickey’s look-alike was.
Mickey watched as the time moved forward on the video, and a pair of Alphas approached Joey. An uncomfortable feeling knotted Mickey’s gut at their friendly expressions, though he was fucking glad Colin hadn’t come back.
Joey seemed receptive to them at first but soon started to move clumsier like he was getting drunk. One of the Alphas put his arm around Joey when he staggered and laughed, and Mickey caught a glimpse of the guy’s face. He paused it there. “That the guy off to the side in Joey’s selfie...? Was he at the bar watchin’ the whole time?”
“Yeah, has to be,” Ian answered, looking back at Mickey briefly, then down at his skin. Mickey was really sweaty, and his skin had welts all over, kind of like last night, but way worse. Ian didn't think he could keep ignoring it or the sweet smell that was overtaking the entire room. “What are you on?” he asked.
It was clear now that Mickey was on some sort of drug or blocker that was making him physically ill. It wasn’t like Ian hadn't seen an omega in transition before, considering his clientele.
“Nothin’,” Mickey said, feeling self-conscious. His scent was leaking out again, and he was itching like a motherfucker, sweating like a motherfucker. Fuck his life. “I got scentsitive skin. Didn’t have time to get new laundry soap.”
Mickey pushed his stool back and got to his feet, blinking away lightheadedness as he went towards the mini-fridge. Putting distance between them didn’t help as much as he’d hoped. “Ya want somethin’ to drink, Gallagher? Water, soda... I need somethin’. Keep watchin’.”
Mickey opened the fridge and almost groaned at the frosty air that hit his legs. He wiped his forehead with his forearm and grabbed a water bottle. He wanted to open it and pour it all the fuck over himself but settled for cracking it open and pouring it down his throat instead.
Ian didn’t like that Mickey was lying to him. He paused the video to gather his thoughts. He found it almost too difficult to focus now with that fucking scent taunting him.
Ian had been with a lot of omegas and worked with even more. Some of his clients were so terrified of their attackers and abusers that they did everything in their power with medication and scent blockers to eliminate any attraction Alphas would have for them.
While he thought that Mickey was an Alpha like him, it was now blatantly evident he hadn’t fucked an omega but was one himself. Which made Ian feel like the ass he was assuming Mickey didn’t care about omegas’ safety.
Ian got up off the stool to follow Mickey, who was basking in the glow of the mini-fridge. “You shouldn’t be here right now,” Ian told him. He knew that Mickey was going into heat and that it wasn’t safe here for him. “Let me take you home. You can drop the act, I... I fuckin’ know.”
Mickey laughed, mind scrambling in a panic. He shook his head and lifted his hand to his ear, scratching it, feeling his silencer move inside. It gave him a moment of reassurance when it chirped in activation. He wasn’t scared of Gallagher, but he wasn’t about to reveal anything. “You don’t know shit,” Mickey said unkindly.
He stayed put even though his body was yelling at him to take a step back, to lower his gaze. Then, Gallagher’s scent rolled over him again on the next inhale. Mickey dropped his empty water bottle, grip loosening on it as he closed his eyes. Alpha.
Better yet, interested Alpha.
Mickey felt it everywhere—at his core, but especially between his thighs, a sudden ready wetness that made his cheeks burn. Mickey’s chest rose and fell as he took a sharp breath and blinked, getting a hold of himself.
This couldn’t be fucking happening. It was way too early. He was on suppressants. They couldn’t be fucking failing too.
“You’re not takin’ me anywhere. I’m just fine. You’re the one that’s gotta go,” Mickey said. “Take your shit and leave, okay? I got all the info you wanted, and I got other stuff to do today.”
“You need to be taken care of...” Ian trailed off. Mickey wasn’t making any sense. He had to go? “I just got here. We didn’t even figure out what happened.”
Suddenly, Ian remembered the case he was working on. “I’ll take the flash drive if you really want, but I can’t leave you like this. Is there someone I can call or go get? Or, like I said, I can take you home. I’m not going to try anything. Nothing against you, you’re probably perfect. You smell really good. It’s not like I don’t want you.” Ian knew he had to reassure omegas that they were wanted. As bad as he wanted to be the person who helped Mickey through his heat, they had just met... “All I think you’re gonna do today is soak through your pants. Good luck doing anything while that’s happening.”
Mickey was producing slick, Ian could smell it, and he wanted to lick it all up. He licked his lips and raised his eyebrows at Mickey, waiting for some kind of answer.
Mickey wanted to kick himself for the way his inner omega preened at Gallagher’s praises. His omega wanted him to convince Gallagher to stay and help him out. The rest of him, the normal part of him, was embarrassed as fuck that this was even a thing being said out loud and wanted to leave this conversation yesterday. Especially when Gallagher mentioned him soaking his pants because he could already feel a wet patch forming.
“Just shut the fuck up, please,” Mickey said, holding up a hand. He dropped it immediately, though, because doing it and saying that made him feel sick.
Ian was taken aback by the harsh yet polite shut the fuck up because it had please on the end. That was the only omega part of that whole sentence.
Ian wasn’t used to this. It was different than any interaction he’d ever had with an omega. Omegas didn’t act like this, and it wasn’t in their nature to snap at an Alpha.
Ian took a deep breath. He hadn’t even moved any closer. His initial internal response had changed from wanting to growl and use his Alpha voice to begrudgingly complying. Considering Mickey unintentionally outed himself, Ian could be quiet momentarily and listen.
“I’m not one of your omega clients in distress needing you to rescue them, alright? I’ve taken care of myself my whole fuckin’ life, and I’m perfectly capable of using a phone and drivin’ my car without dyin’, so fuck off with that not able to leave me shit. It’s not necessary.”
Mickey knew Gallagher was right about him needing to leave. He couldn’t stay here, or he’d alert every Alpha on the block, and they’d come looking. There was also the fact that he hadn’t had a suppressant fail in... what, three years? Fuck, he wasn’t prepared for this at all.
Ian didn’t like what he heard. His eyes narrowed, and then he rolled them. “That’s not what I do… You know what? Fucking forget it. Good luck getting out of here. I’m leaving.”
In his gut, Ian knew it was the wrong thing to do, and it went against all of his instincts. He needed to protect Mickey.
Ian went to the laptop, pulled the flash drive out, and tucked it away in his pants pocket. He collected himself and looked at the door before looking directly at Mickey. Ian could feel his heart pounding.
Mickey’s heart was pounding, too. He was sure he’d managed to anger Gallagher enough that he’d give up. He watched as Gallagher took the flash drive and made like he was going to leave before something about his body language changed and shot straight to Mickey’s omega.
Instead of walking out the door, Ian found himself walking towards Mickey. “Come with me,” he commanded in his Alpha voice.
Mickey felt himself go rigid because his omega was telling him to cower. Gallagher’s voice went from deep to distorted in Mickey’s ear, and his silencer got hot, making a series of clicks. It hurt. It hurt a fucking lot, his body resisting the tug to comply, his mind filtering into white noise to avoid Gallagher’s command.
He’d never been in this situation before. Not while he was around an Alpha who knew what he was. Not while he was going into heat.
“Don’t,” Mickey ground out. “That don’t fuckin’ work on me.”
Saying no to an Alpha while they were using their Alpha voice didn’t happen often. Omegas couldn’t say no to it. Not without fighting tooth and nail against their instincts and feeling like they were being tortured.
Mickey remembered the one time his mom had said no to his dad in front of them. She never did that again. Mickey was luckier. He had something to stop himself from being turned into a broken breeder puppet.
Mickey watched Gallagher, wary but stubborn, even as he felt his thoughts starting to slip.
Ian was beyond confused. He didn’t use his Alpha voice often, but every time he did, it was more than effective. There had to be a reason why it hadn't worked. Seeing the dip of Mickey’s head to one side gave him a view of his ear, and Ian groaned when he saw the familiar, discreet shape of an Alpha silencer. “Alright,” he gritted out since he was mad about his voice not working.
Ian wasn’t going to try anything. He was an honorable and honest Alpha. He just wanted Mickey out of there because he could sense that the omega was going to get swarmed as soon as he left the building. Ian couldn’t let that happen. If his voice wouldn’t work, he was certain his touch would.
Ian took Mickey by the arm. The electricity between them almost made him let go, but he didn’t. “I’m serious. You gotta stop resisting and just let me get you out of here, or it isn’t gonna be pretty.”
Mickey choked back a noise when Gallagher grabbed him. Because as soon as Gallagher did, Mickey switched from wanting to shove Gallagher out the door to wanting to follow him. His omega voice started whispering in his ear, telling him how good it’d feel to be fucked and knotted by a real Alpha instead of a toy, that he should press up against Gallagher and make him feel his fuckin’ slick. “Don’t need no fuckin’ Alpha bodyguard,” Mickey rasped defiantly, but his legs were already moving, and they were outside, Gallagher’s grip hot on his arm.
Mickey sort of believed Gallagher only wanted to help him out, but after he’d just tried to use his voice on him, Mickey was far as fuck away from trusting him. He glared at the back of Gallagher’s head for as long as he could handle before dropping his eyes to the ground because it was stressing his omega brain out.
“My car’s this way,” Mickey said, forcing himself to pull Gallagher in the opposite direction. It felt like trying to move a fucking mountain. Even though Gallagher wasn’t big, his Alpha presence was. Mickey didn’t care. He just wanted to go home and ride out his stupid fucking heat until it was over, alone like he always did.
Mickey dug in his back pocket for his keys as they got to his car, grunting in frustration when he went to unlock the driver’s side door and dropped them on the pavement when he got dizzy, steadying himself with a hand on the car door.
Ian wasn’t taking Mickey to his car. He was trying to take him to his. Mickey wasn’t in any condition to drive himself, which Mickey found out after he dropped his fucking keys, almost fainting. Luckily, Ian was still holding on to him, and he went down to grab the keys instead.
Ian wanted to scold him for not listening to him in the first place because they could’ve gotten out of there sooner. He was just trying to help, and everything Mickey did to repel him wasn't working.
Mickey frowned in confusion when he heard a series of low, rumbling growls behind them. “Gallagher?” he said, panting slightly. “What...”
Mickey trailed off because suddenly he could hear footsteps and smell the scent of another Alpha.
More than one.
Sure enough, when they both had their backs turned, a group of three Alphas approached them. Their growls didn’t faze Ian whatsoever. It was just a hassle to show his Alpha to other Alphas. The Alpha that other Alphas were scared of and the one he rarely ever got to flex.
“Fuck,” Mickey muttered. He took a deep breath, mustering all his venom. Even though he couldn’t turn the fuck around, his head bowed, and he barked, “Get the fuck outta here!”
Ian looked at Mickey. It was a cute attempt but totally laughable, and boy did the Alphas laugh like hyenas at that.
Mickey closed his eyes to contain his shame and anger. It was fucking humiliating. He wished Gallagher could see him when he was hidden and not going into heat. When he had his full Alpha armour on, he'd challenged more Alphas than he could count, and he won almost every time. He could make Alphas cry like little bitches and beg for mercy, and he didn't even have a real growl.
But now? What the fuck was he acting like?
An omega bitch. Scared, exposed and fucking helpless.
“That’s enough,” Ian said.
The three Alphas fell silent.
Ian mustered up a growl from the pit of his stomach that was loud enough to shake the ground, rattling the loose gravel and making it bounce. “He’s mine!” Ian roared.
It wasn’t true, but it wasn’t something he didn't want. They didn’t need to know that Mickey actually wasn't his. Ian just needed them to go away, and if this omega was his, then they’d have no other choice than to back the fuck off.
Mickey's legs trembled when Gallagher used his Alpha voice, and his silencer cracked in his ear, shutting down. He heard the full force of Gallagher's words, and the effect they had on him made him shudder, back still turned to all of them.
He could feel another rush of slick between his thighs in the aftermath of Gallagher calling him his. The lucid part of Mickey knew it was just to chase the group of Alphas away, but his omega relaxed, feeling protected and claimed.
And fucking horny, ready to please his Alpha and show him how much he—
God fucking damn it.
Ian watched as the Alphas backed up, turned and walked away. “Get in the car,” he said to Mickey, dropping his Alpha voice and walking him to the passenger side.
Mickey took another deep breath. He didn't argue this time, though it felt like heaven and hell combined when Gallagher helped him in the passenger seat, putting his hands on Mickey. Mickey tried not to start panting as Gallagher rounded the car and got in, trying to focus.
He pulled his silencer out and looked at it. It was blackened and broken. Mickey clenched it in his fist, chest tight. He'd saved up his money for a long fucking time so he could buy it, and now it was ruined. Omega tech like that didn't come cheap. Who knew when he'd be able to afford another one?
Mickey reclined back against the seat once Gallagher was inside. He still couldn't find it in himself to thank him, even though he'd probably saved Mickey from getting gang raped just like Joey. Mickey swallowed and turned his head to look out the window.
When they turned down the wrong street, Mickey finally spoke up. “You're goin' the wrong way.” He looked at Gallagher. “My place is close by. Couple blocks. Turn around.”
Mickey had never told Ian where to go. Ian wasn’t a mind reader. He would’ve been gravely mistaken to believe this omega would be compliant now. There was something different about this one and his ability to fool just about anybody. Special, because omegas were born to keep the population going and take care of the needs of Alphas.
“I’m taking you to my apartment,” Ian informed him so he didn’t get his head bitten off. He'd made the decision to take him there knowing he’d worry too much if he just left Mickey at his own apartment. “I wanna take care of you,” Ian added, knowing that omegas liked being taken care of even if this one would pretend he didn’t. Ian knew better. He was just going to make sure that he was fed, hydrated and comfortable.
“No, no fuckin' way,” Mickey said vehemently, shaking his head and shifting uncomfortably.
He'd never spent his heat with an Alpha. He'd never spent his heat with anyone. He didn't need to. It upset him how thrilled his omega was that Gallagher wanted to take him home and care for him, his hormones oozing pleased omega. Mickey almost whined. “You seem like a good Alpha, Gallagher, but you're not mine.” It was the truth, but his body reacted weirdly to the words. His chest constricted, making him take shallower breaths, but he kept going, “You ain't even my fuckin' friend. You don't gotta do nothin'. C'mon, just take me home.”
Mickey told Gallagher his address and then reached under his shirt and started peeling off his scent blockers, sighing in relief as each one released from his skin and hit the carpet. “I promise I'll be fine, okay? Then, once this is over, we can keep goin' on the case.”
Mickey’s scent was quickly overcoming Ian. It didn’t help that they were confined in a small space together. The only thing he could smell was omega.
While Ian had the best intentions in the world, he couldn’t control himself biologically. He was itching for Mickey like an addict, and he literally couldn’t stop scratching his neck after Mickey took off the remaining scent-blocking patches. It was the first time that he could smell Mickey completely.
Ian almost crashed into the car in front of them. Mickey nearly flew forward when he suddenly stepped hard on the brakes, grabbing the oh-shit handle just in time. Ian laughed it off since he'd stopped in the nick of time. He could blame it on the shitty car. “That was close,” is all he said. “It’s no problem. I want to do it! It’s okay. We’re almost there. You’ll like my place. I’ve got two guest rooms…”
Gallagher was clearly used to getting his way. He looked a bit nervous, too, but Mickey shrugged it off with a disgruntled noise. Some people were just shitty drivers.
Ian was determined to get Mickey to his house at this point. He’d have to get his brother to pick up his car later. He needed this—to take Mickey to his apartment and take care of him. He found nothing more important at the moment than helping this omega, and he had no idea why. Like Mickey said, they weren’t even friends and wouldn’t have even met unless something bad hadn’t happened to Joey.
Ian pulled into the garage of his high-rise apartment in Lincoln Park with a relieved sigh. “It’ll be fine,” he reassured Mickey.
Chapter 3: (K)not Your Baby
Chapter Text
Ian had the penthouse, which meant he had a private elevator to his apartment as well as a private terrace all to himself. Having the penthouse came with a lot of perks. His space was actually two floors.
He had a large family, so he wanted the room, especially if his younger siblings needed a place to stay. And luckily, this place had three bedrooms, bathrooms, and a den for his office. It was full of books, files, and various computers, some for work and others for gaming.
He led the way, even though Mickey still didn’t look one hundred percent sure he wanted to be there. “Just check it out. If you really want to leave, I’ll take you home after dinner, okay?”
Mickey kept a safe distance. He pressed himself up against the elevator wall and watched Gallagher as he kept up the reassurances, trying to get a read on him.
He noticed Gallagher pushed the PH button. Penthouse. Fuck.
It was weird how much Gallagher was willing to help. It made Mickey wonder if he had an ulterior motive beyond being a white knight. He didn't think Gallagher seemed like the type to chop omegas up into tiny little pieces for fun. Hell, Mickey had taken off his scent blockers without even thinking about it. He wouldn’t have done that if he felt he was in danger.
Ian allowed Mickey to enter the penthouse first. After shutting and locking the door behind him, he took off his suit jacket, hung it over his arm and loosened his tie.
Gallagher's place was exactly what Mickey was expecting a lawyer from a famous family of lawyers to have. It was a real sleek, real modern, classy as shit looking place with a lot of stainless-steel appliances and plush furniture. And it was huge. Mickey wondered how many omegas Gallagher brought home who went starry-eyed at his wealth.
He seemed like the whole package: good-looking, rich, and kind to omegas. It made Mickey wonder why the fuck Gallagher wasn’t mated and why he didn’t have a bunch of pups running around.
Of course, just because Gallagher didn’t have a mating mark didn’t mean he wasn’t currently in the process of courting an omega. (Mickey was gonna ignore the way thinking about that made his chest contract like somebody was squeezing it.)
As Mickey looked around, he noticed Gallagher’s place didn’t seem like it had many homey touches that usually came from an omega presence. It didn’t look like it was lived in much at all. But maybe Gallagher was just a neat freak. He probably had a housekeeper.
It was also funny that Gallagher thought Mickey would be able to make it through dinner. Just staying standing was hard, and to keep his mind from straying to the gutter was like trying to run a marathon hung over. He needed to take the edge off soon, or he was going to jump Gallagher right there in the doorway.
Ian didn’t receive the typical response everyone had whenever they came over. Awestruck, usually, was what his guests were. The first comment was almost always about the view. The sky was still bright blue. There wasn’t much smog today, and you could see the whole skyline.
The sunset would probably be beautiful tonight, he thought. Maybe they could eat on the terrace. He hadn’t even gotten used to it yet, considering he moved in at the beginning of the year, and only now the weather was warm enough to hang out there. That was Chicago for you.
“Can I take a shower?” Mickey asked. He’d left a wet spot on the car cushion, and his clothes were damp with both slick and sweat. He was fuckin’ dying to get them off.
Typically, now that he could, he spent his whole heats naked because clothes were just uncomfortable during it. He probably wouldn’t be able to do that at Gallagher’s, which was another reason he should be insisting Gallagher take him home again.
“Oh...Yeah.” Ian had almost forgotten until his eyes travelled down Mickey’s back to his ass, seeing the dampness that was there.
Mickey’s scent was still making Ian’s skin crawl. He smelled so good, almost like birthday cake. His mouth was watering to taste Mickey’s slick, but he was trying to be good.
“Would you prefer a bath?” Ian asked. He took Mickey’s arm to lead him, knowing that the heat was making him wobbly and standing alone for a shower probably wouldn’t be ideal or very safe.
“Nah, man, I just want a quick shower. I don’t need—" Mickey started but found it impossible to keep protesting when Gallagher took his arm and brought him upstairs to what had to be his bedroom.
It was the master, looked like, but what tipped Mickey off the most was how much the whole room smelled like Gallagher. The bed, especially.
“Fuck,” Mickey whispered without meaning to.
Ian stopped to set his jacket on the bed before leading Mickey into the bathroom. Mickey was floating more than walking as he followed along. “Sit. I’ll run the bath for you and grab you some towels.”
Ian’s scent was hitting Mickey like a ton of bricks and nearly made him sway on his feet, so he didn’t argue for once, sitting his ass down on the edge of the tub. Mickey watched as Gallagher bent over and started to fill it, feeling a bit like he was having some weird heat-induced dream, especially when steam began to rise around them.
He didn’t have a tub at home, just a shower with as much water pressure as someone gently weeping on his shoulders. He already felt like a fuckin’ pampered house pet just looking at the size of that tub.
“You do this a lot?” Mickey asked, trying not to think about Gallagher in the tub with him, giving him exactly what his omega wanted. “Take strange omegas home with ya.”
“I try not to. Not anymore, at least. I had a bad experience at my last place.” It wasn’t a lie, but it was vague. Ian didn’t need to go into it.
Mickey frowned. He wasn’t expecting that answer. He was expecting Gallagher to brag about all the omegas he’d helped like they were conquests.
Mickey was curious about what kind of bad experience Gallagher had had in the past with an omega. Gallagher didn’t linger on the subject, though, and Mickey wasn’t about to demand to hear his life story. It wasn’t his business. He stayed quiet.
Ian had a soft spot for all omegas, naturally, but he also knew how to maintain boundaries. That was important to his work. He couldn’t have clients come to his apartment because that wasn’t professional. It was sleazy, too, which was something he wasn’t.
Ian's father, on the other hand... he was a different story.
Ian had actually never been in a situation where he had to use his Alpha voice to whisk an omega away. It had been a dangerous, unsolicited event that he'd sensed before it happened, and that was why he'd insisted and used his Alpha voice on Mickey. He couldn’t let anything bad happen to Mickey while he was in his presence. The whole thing came to Ian so naturally. It was just an instinct, and he couldn’t control it.
Despite having drunkenly invited an omega over the other night, Ian tried to keep his space omega-free. He was busy and focused on his work. He was able to get his needs met without committing, and in reality, he just hadn’t met his omega yet.
“I was worried about you. Those Alphas approached us, and I’m guessing this isn’t a scheduled heat, is it? You probably wouldn’t have been out and at work, considering the club caters to Alphas. And you’re on suppressants, right? Sometimes, they make things irregular and can cause more harm than good.”
He didn’t mean to be preachy about it. Mickey most likely knew and didn’t care. Ian could see why he was doing what he was doing. It was just unnatural. Ian knew a lot, given his occupation. It was a lot more than most Alphas even cared to learn about, though.
“Your place was too close. I was afraid that they’d find you after I left—break in or something, and you’d be…” Gallagher paused like he didn’t want to voice what they were both thinking. “You know, no one’s gonna come for you here. I’m here. It’s safe and comfortable.”
Mickey shook his head, feeling embarrassed that Gallagher thought he needed reassurance. “I ain’t worried, so you ain’t gotta be.”
“That's good to hear.”
The fact that his Alpha silencer had broken was a major problem he needed to fix ASAP. Still, Mickey cautiously trusted Gallagher not to use his Alpha voice on him again. The Alpha didn’t seem mindlessly interested in fucking him, so Mickey didn’t think it was likely he’d triggered Gallagher’s rut or was going to.
Hell, maybe he was defective. He’d never been around an Alpha while he was in heat before. He had seen how Alphas acted around other bitches in heat, though.
“I ain’t helpless, either, Gallagher. I’ve been on suppressants since I first presented. I know how they work and how fuckin’ unpredictable they can be. I don’t even get heats anymore.” Or he hadn’t for years, until today. “I track ‘em. My next cycle is supposed to be in eight days, so somethin’ got fucked. Maybe it was the patches that did somethin’, I dunno.”
Mickey lowered his hands and clenched them around the tub edge when he realized he had started undoing his pants, the fabric rough against his skin. His omega was urging him to strip down to nothing to get the Alpha’s attention, to bend over and show off and... shit. Mickey huffed and focused on what he was talking about, fighting it. “Also, I got pepper spray in my car, firearms at my place, and I fight better than most Alphas. I woulda been totally cool.” He rolled his eyes at his own word choice. “Well, not cool, but ya know what I mean.”
Everything was surprising for Ian to hear but probably shouldn’t have been, considering the line of business Mickey’s family was in and the lengths he went to suppress his omega. “You stood up for yourself. Couldn’t miss what you said. You didn’t even flinch. It impressed me greatly. I can see you holding your own. I saw your hand tats. I believe them.” Ian smiled after he complimented the omega because it was impressive. He couldn’t believe it when it happened. It was sexy.
Every omega Ian had ever known couldn’t even look an Alpha in the eye unless they were mated, let alone raise their voice to one. It was out of character, but really fucking attractive that this omega could handle himself in a situation like that if he had to.
Ian knew the compliment was good for the omega’s ego, too, and Mickey would really like that.
Gallagher sure knew how to push the right buttons. Mickey felt those compliments all over like Gallagher had fucking petted him. He told himself he didn't give a shit how Gallagher saw him, but his pride felt like it grew three sizes just from knowing he'd impressed the Alpha with his fearless attitude.
A hint of a smile mirrored Gallagher's on Mickey's face before he looked away, lost for a comeback for the first time since he'd met Gallagher. Good fucking lord.
Ian moved to grab the towels as well as one of the bath bombs he kept in an open glass container on the counter. They mostly were for aesthetics but were nice to use every once in a while. They made the water fizzy and smelled good. He tossed it in and backed up from the tub. “You need anything else? Have any requests for dinner? I can order something or cook.”
Mickey wasn’t sure what the fuck that was but leaned over to check out the way it fizzed and changed the colour of the water. He almost wanted to laugh at the froofy ridiculousness of it. It did smell good and made Gallagher’s Alpha smell not quite so fucking potent. His eyebrows lifted. “Uh, I’m good. Whatever you wanna do, man... I ain’t picky.”
Especially considering his last meal had been instant noodles and a spoonful of peanut butter.
Mickey hadn’t met many Alphas who liked to be in the kitchen. They usually left that job to omegas. Sure, they wanted to pay for the food in the house, but they didn’t like to stand over no stove. Even the single ones hired help for cheap.
Omegas were the cooks, the cleaners, the gardeners, and the carers. Even now, when omegas were finally getting a few more rights than they used to hundreds of years ago, many were still traditional. Nothing was ever going to change.
Ian was still stuck on the fact that Mickey didn’t have heats anymore. That was a shame since he smelled so fucking good to Ian right now. If Mickey didn’t have heats, when did he get fucked? If he was posing as an Alpha, did he do the fucking? Actually, fuck. Ian could feel his mind start reeling, telling him he needed to fuck.
Fuck this omega. He’s in heat, breed him, he’s ripe. What are you waiting for? He’s right in front of you. Go. Now. Do it. It’s time.
Jesus, he was so fucking stupid. This omega would trigger his rut, wouldn’t he? He hadn’t had his rut triggered since he'd presented.
Wait.
Was this... was Mickey his...
Oh. Oh.
He’s the one.
Ian had protected him, taken him home, ran him a bath and offered to cook...
Jesus, Ian was nurturing this omega, and he didn’t even want to stop.
“I... I’ll let you bathe now,” Ian said, trying to remain cool while he was in a nervous panic.
He left the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He went to his closet to hang up his jacket, and while he was in there, he pulled all of the excess blankets and pillows he had in there out. He carried them into the main part of his room and dropped them on the floor by his bed.
Ian cleared that off next, only leaving the sheets before he started arranging the pillows and blankets, creating a comfy nest with all of the soft material he had access to. His mind was one hundred percent focused on nothing else but the nest and his omega right now.
He needed to get water so Mickey wouldn’t become dehydrated.
Ian went down to the kitchen and grabbed an arm full of bottled waters from the fridge, putting them all on the nightstand, then went right back to building the nest, wanting it ready for when Mickey was done with his bath.
ΩA
Mickey was still basking in that stupid compliment-induced pride when Gallagher left him, so he didn't notice anything off.
He pulled off his clothes quickly and stepped into the bathtub before the door had even finished closing, sitting down slowly. He sank further with an involuntary groan, letting the water go past his shoulders. It was nice and hot, but not so hot he'd just be sweating in the bath too. It was a nice temperature. Just right. The pastel blue fizz smelled like the ocean.
Mickey could hear Gallagher doing something in his bedroom, putting stuff away or something. Mickey didn't mind, closing his eyes and feeling his tension melt.
He felt... weirdly at ease but also excited. Horny? Yeah, probably just fuckin’ horny.
It was kind of comforting to hear someone else around. Mickey was so used to being alone during his heats. He would be alone on his next one, but just this once, maybe he could get through it stress-free.
Mickey ran foamy hands over himself, biting his lip. Heats were one of the rare times when his dick felt mostly unimportant. Coming wasn't a huge priority, no matter how hard he got. He just wanted to be stretched and pumped full again and again until...
"Fuck," Mickey breathed, hand sliding lower, all the way down to where he was open and ready. He should have asked Gallagher for a heat toy. His fingers weren’t going to do fuck all of anything.
Mickey didn't give a fuck. He needed something urgently. Grabbing the nearest bottle off the tub shelf and shoving it underwater, Mickey was going to—it didn't matter—he had to—
He stopped, something telling him to wait, to get nice and clean instead.
For his Alpha. His Alpha would take care of him soon.
Mickey let out a small whine. He was fucking losing it. What the fuck was he thinking?
He let go of the shampoo bottle, and it popped up to the surface. Mickey put it back on the shelf and relaxed again, lathering himself up with that salty-sweet seafoam, getting it everywhere, even cleaning underneath his fingernails. He only left his scent glands untouched instead of scrubbing hard at them like he usually did. They were already swollen and sensitive.
When he was done, his skin practically sparkled it was so fucking polished, and not a single trace of his fake Alpha scent remained. He was ready.
For fucking what? the rapidly shrinking lucid part of Mickey's brain demanded.
Mickey stood up and pulled the plug, blinking through another wave of dizziness. He curled his toes on the soft bathmat and picked up the towels sitting on the toilet seat lid. They were so damn fluffy and more expensive than any towel Mickey had ever felt. What the fuck was he doing with his life, not having these towels at home? Mickey used one to dry his hair and wrapped the other one around his waist, tucking it in loosely.
He would have to ask Gallagher to borrow something to wear. The idea of putting his damp clothes back on was almost offensive. He also needed a plug so he wouldn't make a mess in the new clothes.
Yeah... Mickey wasn't going to ask Gallagher for that.
Mickey inhaled a breath to call out to Gallagher through the door but heard his footsteps right outside and decided to just go and ask him.
“Gallagher, can I borrow some…”
Mickey wasn't expecting what he walked into and stopped in his tracks at the sight of it, eyes widening as he took in the stripped bed and the newly arranged pile of blankets and pillows on the ground in front of it.
Alarm bells started going off in Mickey's head immediately, but they were soon drowned out by a rush of overjoyed contentment from his omega. Gallagher had made him a nest. In his bedroom. That's what this was.
“...clothes.”
Of course, his towel chose that moment to loosen and fall from his hips to the ground, leaving him standing stark naked in front of the Alpha.
ΩA
As soon as Ian heard Mickey get out of the tub, he stopped what he was doing and tried to look casual next to the nest. He took a deep breath in.
It felt so wonderful to be able to smell the real Mickey without any bitterness. There was still a trace that had been clinging to his clothes. That was completely gone now, and all Ian smelled was incredible sweetness, even with the door shut.
The second the door opened, and he saw Mickey, Ian’s mouth started to water. He wanted to crawl over to him and pull the towel off of him with his teeth, but miraculously after that thought, it fell right the fuck off.
It was almost like Ian made it happen with telekinesis or something. That’s how badly he wanted it to happen.
Regardless of Mickey asking him to borrow some clothes, it was so thrilling that that happened instead, and Mickey finally got to see what Ian had done and what he wanted… needed, to do.
Ian couldn’t keep the grin off his face as he checked Mickey out shamelessly. Compared to the omega, he was wearing way too many clothes. Ian stood up and went over to him. He placed his hand on Mickey’s face, cupping it before moving his hand from his cheek down his neck. “Goddamn, you’re so gorgeous,” Ian told him, looking him over.
Mickey had a nice cock for an omega, and normally Ian didn’t even notice. Ian dipped his head down to press his face against the scent gland on Mickey’s neck and breathed him in.
Mickey closed his eyes, a pleased flush making its way down his face, to his neck, to his chest. He tilted his head to the side in invitation and swayed into Gallagher, pressing himself right up against the Alpha’s clothed body when his nose touched Mickey’s neck, directly on that sensitive gland, scenting him.
Mickey was finally doing what he’d wanted to since they’d argued at DNA: enticing his Alpha.
“Want you,” Ian said, lifting his head.
Mickey felt another fresh gush of slick drip down his thighs at Gallagher’s words. A soft whine of yearning bubbled up in his throat before he realized what he was doing and cut it off abruptly. His eyes widened again, and he pulled back.
“Gallagher, y-you’re not thinkin’ straight, man. I think you’re going into rut.” Mickey raised his head to look at the Alpha, feeling caught immediately. Gallagher’s eyes—intense green, focused entirely on Mickey. Pupils blown to hell. “...No, fuck, you’re already way fuckin’ there.”
Mickey took a step backwards, trying to snap them both out of it, but as he did, his gaze again strayed to the nest like he couldn’t help himself. Christ, it was like it was calling to him. He wanted to curl up in it, where it was safe and cozy, and Gallagher’s scent would surround him.
More than that, he wanted his Alpha in there with him, giving it to him until they both passed out from exhaustion.
“This nest, ya made it for me?”
While Mickey looked at the nest, Ian’s eyes went down to Mickey’s legs, watching the slick trickle down his thighs to his calves, going to waste. It was making him irrationally angry. “Of course it is. You’re my omega.”
Fuckin’ hell. Mickey almost whimpered again, chewing on his lip to hold it in.
Mickey knew, sort of, what it would do to Gallagher if he rejected the nest. An Alpha in rut was wild, unpredictable and prone to lashing the fuck out when they couldn’t have what they needed. Rejection didn’t happen often, but when it did, that usually didn’t stop the Alpha.
For some reason, Mickey was more worried about hurting Gallagher, like, emotionally. (And what the fuck?) He seemed... sweet, more so than most (all) Alphas.
“Thank you,” Mickey said softly. “It’s perfect, Alpha. Just what I need.” Was that his actual omega voice? Shit, it sounded weird. Gentle and syrupy. Mickey swallowed and took a shaky breath. “But, I... this isn’t what you want, not really. It’s just the hormones talkin’.”
Ian’s brow furrowed. He wanted to step forward and close the gap between them again. Mickey was talking, though, in his omega voice, so Ian had no choice but to listen.
With his mind clouded, it was hard to understand what Mickey was saying. Was he saying no? No way. Being a lawyer, consent was drilled into him, but being an Alpha, he didn’t have to deal with no’s personally.
Mickey just thought that he didn’t want this because of his hormonal state, but Ian had been turned on by him before today, and before he'd found out that Mickey was an omega.
Ian knew what was happening to him. He didn’t want it to stop. It couldn’t be stopped if he tried. He wanted to fuck Mickey, more than lay him. He wanted him. Mickey was his, Ian knew it now. He’d triggered Mickey’s heat, and Mickey had triggered his rut.
It was fate. They were soulmates. He wanted Mickey. Needed him, needed to...
Ian let out a low growl. He was getting physically hot, and he was still wearing his tie, dress shirt and pants. He pulled the tie off and tossed it, started to unbutton his shirt, eyes never leaving Mickey. “You’re what I want. You’re perfect. You’re gonna be mine, omega.”
Mickey’s breathing started to grow rapid as Gallagher started undressing, unable to hold off a small shudder of heat, even slicker at his response. Mickey wanted to drop to his hands and knees in the nest, to present himself to Gallagher, but continued to fight it. “I ain’t nobody’s omega bitch,” Mickey said, forcing his o voice away and letting out a warning growl of his own.
It was quieter than Gallagher’s because he didn’t have a fuckin’ death wish, but he wasn’t going to let his omega take over and dictate anything. Wasn’t going to let this Alpha be the boss of him.
The possibility that Gallagher could be his mate didn’t even cross his mind. Mickey didn’t want a mate, couldn’t have a mate, and didn’t believe in fate. That was just for the movies and for storybooks. It wasn’t happening.
Gallagher was just strung out on his rut, and Mickey was the hit dangling in front of him.
Did Mickey just fucking growl? Ian’s eyebrows shot up. His eyes narrowed dangerously.
“You think I should just give myself over to you, huh? Roll over ass up just ‘cause your Alpha wants me, my omega wants you?” Mickey stepped closer, heart slamming against his ribs as he fought against his instincts and challenged Gallagher with a tilt of his chin.
“There’s nothing straight about you,” Ian scoffed. He couldn’t believe the gall of this omega, Any other omega would be begging him for his knot by now. He’d never even given it. He didn’t need anyone getting attached or, even worse, knocked up.
To think he had been planning on giving it to Mickey. Ian wasn’t going to give it to him now, with how disrespectful and full of shit he was being.
Mickey's hands had a mind of their own. They found Gallagher’s flanks, sliding up them and pulling his shirt open. Gallagher’s skin was even hotter than his own. “We can fuck, red, but I ain’t yours. Never gonna be. Let’s get that straight.”
This little omega was pushing all of the wrong buttons. His touch felt cool and soothing, but Ian hated him now. Hated that he saved him and built him a nest when he was acting like an ungrateful little bitch.
Even if Mickey begged for his knot, and there was no doubt in Ian’s mind that once they got to fucking that he would, Ian wasn’t going to give in. Mickey couldn’t put on his tough-guy act while he had Ian’s nine-inch cock up his ass.
Mickey rubbed Ian the wrong way. Ian loved omegas, protected them to the best of his ability, and this guy didn’t even want to be one. He never thought there’d be a day that he’d declare an omega his and be turned the fuck down.
Mickey didn't say anything. He could see the anger, even hatred, flare in Gallagher's eyes towards him. It made his chest constrict painfully, but he ignored it. His omega wanted him to backpedal immediately, beg for forgiveness, and beg for Gallagher.
He couldn't give in to it. It wasn't fucking real. Neither was Gallagher's insistence that Mickey was his. If he was, really, Mickey was sure Gallagher would have attacked him by now. He wouldn’t have been able to take that rejection; he would call Mickey all the names in the book and used his Alpha voice to get Mickey to change his tune, no matter what he'd said before.
Mickey knew how Alphas acted towards their omegas, and it wasn't the pretty love story from the big screens.
Ian stayed quiet, brooding, knowing if he opened his mouth and said even the slightest hurtful thing to the omega, he would crumble. Instead, he moved his hands around Mickey’s body to grip his ass. “Let’s fuck.”
Ian gave that ass a hard smack that echoed in the room. It would most definitely leave a bruise.
Mickey gritted his teeth. The spot felt white-hot. It was punishment, but not at all the kind Mickey was expecting.
Ian dipped his fingers into Mickey’s sopping wet hole and Mickey got dizzy, seeing black spots and clenching around the Alpha’s fingertips. “Fuck, you don't gotta fuckin' prep me, let's go.”
Ian wanted to prep Mickey. He wanted to feel his slick, smell it and taste it, but yet another defiant statement flowed right out of the omega’s mouth instead of what he wanted.
Ian wanted to shove his whole hand up there now—not because he was actually into that, but because Mickey said he didn’t have to prep him. Ian was really looking forward to it. It was stupid not to, and at this point, Mickey hadn’t even seen his dick yet, so he was in for a fucking surprise and probably some deserved pain.
They needed to get horizontal fucking now. Mickey opened Gallagher's pants roughly, nearly breaking the zipper to get it over Gallagher's bulge. Jesus fuck, he didn't care. It needed to come off. Mickey ripped it and finally got to see Gallagher in all his glory.
He did hesitate for just a moment on seeing the fuckin' dick on Gallagher because fucking Jesus Christ...
“I'm on top,” Mickey said, putting a flat hand against Gallagher's chest and shoving him backwards, towards the bed instead of the nest. He smirked in victory when Gallagher fell onto his back on the mattress.
God damn if Ian’s pants didn’t need to go in the trash now. Mickey had destroyed them. He was on top? Ian was getting fed up quickly and thought that once Mickey saw his cock, he’d let him do what he wanted. Mickey must have had a death wish.
Mickey climbed on top of Gallagher before he could get up, forcing Gallagher's upper half down with two hands on his chest and his lower half down by straddling him and planting his ass just above Gallagher's cock.
He wasn't going to take it like a bitch—never had and never would with any Alpha he'd ever been with. He was going to give Gallagher a ride he'd never fucking forget. Several rides.
Ian was happy his dick was free now and that he was about to get some sweet-smelling omega, but wasn’t expecting to be pushed back and straddled. He never had an omega be this fucking bossy or take control from him. Ever.
Mickey let Gallagher's cock slide in between his cheeks and rub at his slick, getting him wet and coated. Fuck, Gallagher was big.
Despite the stereotype of all Alphas having huge cocks, Mickey had yet to meet one who actually lived up to the hype. Mickey and his omega were both on the same page for once about how that made him feel. Like he wanted it in him right fucking now.
Ian started to growl. He didn’t like it, but it felt good. His growls were at a low hum, sounding like a sweet rumble, but he was far from sweet. He wasn’t happy. He didn’t want to be beneath his omega. He did want to get it in, though, and while Mickey was soaking his cock in slick, Ian moved his hand to guide it.
When Mickey moved again, he slid right down onto Ian. Ian’s face lit up as he felt himself entering the warm wetness. Slick gushed out and slid down his cock.
Mickey sucked in a stuttered breath. It was hard not to make any noise. He realized when he was about halfway down, and he wasn’t even close to bottoming out that maybe he’d been too fuckin’ hasty about the no-prep thing. It was too late now, though, and Mickey was too stubborn to admit anything, so he kept on going, chewing hard on his lower lip and furrowing his brows as he took every inch.
It was a smooth slide because he was dripping, but even his needy hole, open and raring to fuck, had a hard time taking Gallagher. Fuck, he felt full. Gallagher was vibrating under him, his growl like the purr of an engine about to blow. It made Mickey want to sit back and grind instead, to offer up his neck and let Gallagher take him.
Fuck no. He wasn’t Gallagher’s bitch.
Ian had a good view of everything until Mickey was flush against him. His eyes snapped back up to meet Mickey’s, and before Mickey could lift up, Ian moved his arms to wrap around Mickey’s shoulders. Mickey’s hands were planted on his chest, so he couldn’t do shit.
Ian twisted the two of them until they were on their slides, still connected. Ian easily overpowered him now that they were on their sides, and moved on top of him. Where he belonged.
As soon as Gallagher met his eyes, Mickey knew that he wasn’t going to take it anymore. Mickey bit back a whine of frustration when Gallagher took him down, cursing up a storm instead and trying to get his leverage back, but it didn’t work because Gallagher had him pinned in place with his monster fucking Alpha dick. Ian moved his hands, taking Mickey’s flailing ones in his own.
Mickey growled, looking up at Gallagher with anger and fevered heat in his eyes. Gallagher was holding his fuckin’ hands down, and even though Mickey was struggling, they were laced together like lovers. Mickey didn’t have time to feel caught off guard or to tell him to fuck right off with that shit because his struggling only lasted for a few seconds, expression screwing up as Gallagher started hammering into him.
“Fuck!” Mickey’s back arched, and he twisted as much as he could with Gallagher holding him down, squeezing Gallagher’s hands hard, wanting to get away from the intensity as much as he wanted it to never fucking stop.
Gallagher was hitting a place inside him that only ever appeared when he was in heat, different than his usual spot, and each tap was like the sweetest ache he’d ever felt. He was making so much slick, more than he’d ever made before.
Ian knew that Mickey wouldn’t struggle for too long. He wouldn’t be able to resist getting fucked on his back like this. Usually, Ian only fucked omegas on their hands and knees. Fucking face to face was way more intimate than he was willing to get with anyone until now.
Once he started moving, he was relentless, not giving Mickey the opportunity to get on top of him again. Mickey just ended up squeezing his hands hard, and Ian’s hands weren’t the only thing getting squeezed by him. Mickey felt like heaven and practically drenched him in a tidal wave of slick with every hit to his sweet spot, soaking him and the bed beneath them.
Ian tried to keep his eyes on Mickey’s face, studying it. Ian thought that he was so beautiful. He had the most gorgeous blue eyes he’d ever seen and dark black hair that made him look like the badass he clearly was. Ian wanted to tell him how perfect he was and how good he felt.
It was only when Gallagher had to slow down, finally easing up on that brutal pace, that Mickey shuddered and took his chance. His ass was throbbing in pain and ecstasy both, but his omega was nowhere near satiated. Mickey turned his head and bit Gallagher’s arm, right above the pulse. His teeth almost broke Gallagher’s skin. His omega wouldn’t let him hurt his—the Alpha, but it was hard enough to leave a mark, and it surprised Gallagher, which was what Mickey was aiming for.
The omega’s teeth were far from sharp, but Ian couldn’t believe what had just happened, that Mickey had actually chosen to do that to him. Ian was in shock. He pulled back to look. There was a mark, and before he knew it, Mickey was out from under him and flipping him over onto his back.
This time, Mickey straddled Gallagher backwards, gripping the Alpha's thighs and slamming himself onto that cock before Gallagher could growl his disapproval. Mickey could feel Gallagher’s gaze burning into his back. He felt ready. His omega wanted to feel Gallagher’s knot swell. He wanted to feel it stretching him impossibly wide and pumping him full of come.
“Don’t even fuckin’ think about knottin’ me,” Mickey moaned, barely getting the words out as they defied every single instinct in his body.
Ian had never wanted to growl at an omega more. It was probably his rut making him super aggressive, but he was practically snarling by the time Mickey planted himself backwards on his dick, telling him not to knot him.
What the actual fuck? What in the hell was wrong with this omega, and why did this one have to be Ian's?
Mickey’s omega was tense, waiting for the punishment. He started riding Gallagher just as hard as Gallagher had been fucking him, using his legs and core to power himself as Gallagher’s dick hit that sweet, achy spot over and over again.
Ian tried to let it go, not let his instincts get to him. He prided himself in being different from other Alphas and how the majority of them chose to treat omegas. He was better than that, better than Frank, but Mickey was fucking with Ian so bad that he was determined that Mickey wanted him to lash out and hurt him.
Whether it was with his voice or violence, Mickey wanted to be hurt and proven right. Ian was going to prove to everyone, especially Mickey, that he was wrong about him. Ian was different.
Ian calmed his breathing and stayed still, letting Mickey ride him. He even put his hands flat against the mattress. He could feel the familiar ache in his gut, signalling he needed to come. His knot throbbed every time Mickey slammed down against it. It was too thick for Mickey to force himself down on it, and he didn’t want it anyway. Mickey needed to consent to being knotted.
Mickey thought for sure Gallagher was going to hit him, the way he was snarling back there. Rear up and choke him into submission like he'd seen other Alphas do, cut off his air and fuck him while he was blacked out. He'd expected Gallagher to do something.
He didn't. The Alpha relaxed instead, quietly disapproving but calm. He didn't lift a finger. That threw Mickey off, but his omega instincts finally eased, and after a while, so did Mickey.
And so he worked. Riding Gallagher's cock wasn't a chore. Fuck, it felt better than any cock he'd ever taken, making his eyes roll up every time he sat on it.
This omega was working his cock like it was his job and he wanted a raise. It was so hot to see him move, and Ian was in awe.
Mickey always secretly liked putting on a show (his stupid omega was an attention whore, liked showin' off), but it did take a lot of energy to rise up and down, and there was only so much his body could handle.
By the time three minutes had rolled by, Mickey felt like he was barely hanging on. He couldn't hold in the wrecked noises and pitiful little moans he was letting out just for Gallagher's ears, his omega begging him to say something.
Ian knew that he wasn’t just going to give up. He just wanted to wait long enough for Mickey’s guard to be down. When he finally felt like it was, and Mickey was getting sloppy and mewling like a kitten, Ian pushed himself to sit up.
He quickly locked his arms around Mickey, pulling him so his back was flush to Ian's chest. Then he lifted Mickey off his cock and shoved him face down onto the mattress, further up the bed.
Mickey whimpered softly. Gallagher had moved him like he was a fuckin' ragdoll. His legs were so exhausted, and his heart was hammering so hard from the exertion, he almost didn't even care, almost welcomed the chance to rest them and let Gallagher take over again. Almost.
Ian was quick to move behind Mickey, not leaving him empty for too long. He shoved back in, and his nails dug into the omega’s hips. “What was it that you said before about knotting? You want my knot, don’t you, baby?”
Mickey cried out, clenching his fists in the sheets and his thighs so Gallagher wouldn't see the way they were shaking. Shit, this fuck was ruining him. He'd never been with an Alpha who could go so long without coming. Never had a fuck where he was worried he'd be the one who'd come first.
His dick was leaking too, not demanding, but like a silent alarm. He couldn't come first, though. He had to please his Alpha, had to hold on and wait for it, had to come on that knot.
Ian leaned over Mickey’s back and pressed his face into the side of his neck.
“Nnn-not... your fuckin'... baby,” Mickey said, stubborn to the end. Or so he thought. He lasted for all of two seconds before Gallagher found his scent gland again, honing in on it like a fucking bloodhound.
Ian nuzzled and licked over the gland, then sucked on it to drive Mickey wild and incoherent. All Ian needed him to say was knot.
Mickey let out a keening whine. Fuck, why did that feel so good? It was like it had a direct line to his ass. Its sensitivity had skyrocketed. Mickey babbled curses when Gallagher sucked on it, gushing even more slick. The area under his face was probably the only part of the bed that wasn't soaked at this point. Mickey tilted his head for more, needy, and ground back onto Gallagher's dick, circling his hips.
The Alpha was never challenged physically or mentally. This omega challenged Ian in every single way, which was probably one of the reasons why this was the best sex he’d ever had. It felt different, better than any other time he was with someone else.
He’d never met an omega who was able to dominate him in a way that didn’t make him homicidal. That only solidified that Mickey really was his. His potential mate and actual soulmate.
Ian hadn’t believed in it either, finding the whole idea cliché. Previously, he was convinced that he would probably never have a mate. Something was holding him back from pursuing a serious relationship, and maybe this was it.
Once Ian got over the fact that Mickey was trying to take control and stopped fighting him for a few minutes, he ended up really enjoying it. Fighting for power was a wonderful aspect, too. Not having an omega that just rolled over for him was nice, but in reality, Ian couldn’t take much more rejection. Ian had been trying to appeal to the omega by calling him baby, but again, was met with resistance. The omega’s body was telling a very different story.
Ultimately, Ian knew he had to turn Mickey out. He had to convince Mickey that he was the one since Mickey was so determined that he wasn’t. He assumed their connection was just the hormones between them, the only plausible thing attracting them to each other like they were magnets.
Mickey’s sweet spot was lighting up like a fuckin' Christmas tree. He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to his wrists, shuddering and squeezing Gallagher's cock hard. He wanted it, fuck, he wanted it so fucking bad it hurt. Who fuckin' cared anymore?
"Fuckin' do it already,” Mickey whimpered, “Do it, do it, do it, please, fuckin' knot me!”
Finally, Mickey spoke and gave Ian permission, which was a courtesy Ian was extending to him.
Ian was more than ready. His gut was aching, and his cock was throbbing within Mickey. He moved his hands to spread Mickey’s cheeks and bared down against him until he felt his knot descend and heard the glorious pop once all of it was inside Mickey, triggering his orgasm.
Mickey’s face screwed up again when he felt Gallagher’s knot start to swell. It felt like it was tearing him in fucking two. He looked down at himself and could actually see where Gallagher’s dick was pushing against his stomach and distending it.
Ian moaned Mickey’s name. "You feel so tight around my knot. So impressed you're taking it. You're such a good omega, Mickey. Promise I'm not gonna stop until you're full."
Mickey wanted to tell Gallagher to shut the fuck up when he started praising him again, but he couldn’t catch his breath long enough to speak, and his initial overwhelm at being so fucking full he didn’t know if he could handle it faded under Gallagher’s voice. He could take it, and soon Gallagher’s knot was fully swollen and locked in him.
Gallagher’s knot hurt as much as it felt good, but the way it made his omega feel overpowered all of it, and soon the pain turned into an endless cycle of yes, fucking yes, yes, yes.
Mickey had never taken an Alpha’s knot before. Not a real one. At home, he had a fake knot toy he’d abused so much half the time it didn’t even work. This wasn’t fucking good. He could already tell he was going to want Gallagher’s knot again.
Ian kept his promise. He came for a solid minute. It was so much, proving to be too much as some of it came flooding out with even more of Mickey’s slick.
The rest of Mickey’s thoughts went out the fucking window when Gallagher started to come. And come and come and fucking come. Mickey’s omega was in fucking amazement at how much the Alpha was giving him. He’d never felt anything so good, anything so right.
Before he even knew it started, Mickey was shivering through an orgasm of his own, and then another about twenty seconds later, while Gallagher was still coming inside him. Holy fucking shit.
Ian kissed Mickey’s neck feverishly. He was tempted to bite it but knew he couldn’t. While Mickey wasn’t his baby, after being knotted, he was definitely his bitch.
Mickey moaned as Gallagher’s lips found his oversensitive neck again, burying his face in his arms. He tested out the knot, shifting with it and making another rough noise as his spent cock twitched and their combined slick and come leaked down his thighs.
They were locked together now. Until Gallagher’s knot went down, and they could separate. His omega was the happiest it’d ever fucking been, but Mickey’s earlier worries were already invading and ruining it.
He wasn’t a good omega, and they both knew it. Gallagher didn’t have to say that shit to him; Mickey didn’t know why he was bothering. Earlier, he’d called him perfect.
It was like Gallagher was reading from a script he’d studied: How to Compliment Your omega 101.
Mickey was probably the worst omega ever created. He was nowhere fucking near perfect, and Gallagher was going to find that out as soon as his cloudy rut haze cleared, and Mickey’s heat fever cleared and stopped telling him Gallagher had the potential to be his... whatever.
Mickey didn’t belong with an Alpha like Gallagher. Didn’t belong with anyone. This was just sex.
Really fucking good sex. That’s all it was.
After kissing Mickey’s neck, Ian started to calm down. He pressed his face into his neck instead and nuzzled him soft and slow until their breathing returned to normal. He almost didn’t want his knot to go down, loving how it felt to be locked inside, tied down to someone, someone who was his. It felt fucking incredible to have found his mate.
Ian couldn’t shake the thought that he had found him, anyway. What if Mickey wasn’t—or worse, didn’t want to be? Ian was so sure that doubt couldn’t cloud his mind. He was feeling drunk off of the omega, and his whole body was buzzing. It even felt like he could feel Mickey’s heartbeat since they were still connected.
“Mm,” Mickey grunted unintelligently, eyelids fluttering as Gallagher continued to nuzzle him like a lazy cat. Shit, that was nice.
Ian breathed Mickey in. Mickey smelled like him, like a real Alpha and that delighted Ian to no end, considering how bad Ian thought he had smelled at first. “You smell like me. You smell so fucking good.”
He smelled like Gallagher. Like a claimed omega. It should have made Mickey want to bolt. It made him want to stay forever. He’d blame how fuckin’ physically exhausted he was.
Ian knew that the bed and Mickey were totally wrecked. He’d have to clean them up. “I’m gonna pull out now. You want me to run you another bath?” A wet towel wasn’t boujee enough for his omega.
If it weren’t for that fact and that he probably couldn’t stand up if he tried right now, Mickey was sure he’d be insisting on a shower, clothes, and to be shown to one of those guest rooms Gallagher was talking about earlier. But all of that seemed like a lot of work.
Fuck it. That bath had been fuckin’ outstanding. Who knew when he’d get another chance to use one like it?
“Yeah, ‘kay,” Mickey answered, docile. He bit his lip when Gallagher slowly pulled out. It felt fucking empty without him. Mickey collapsed and settled onto his stomach, stretching his legs out. He could feel more come slowly leaking out of his ass as he lay there, but he didn’t care. It wasn’t like Gallagher’s sheets could get any worse. “Sorry ‘bout your bed,” he added drowsily, though his omega wasn’t sorry at all.
Ian was surprised to hear an apology from the omega, but it made him smile to think about what they had just done. “No big deal, it was worth it,” he responded. He had a mattress protector, anyway. It just looked ruined.
Mickey couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore and closed them, sighing. Shit, he was fuckin’ spent. Gallagher’s bed was so comfortable, too. There were no lumps; it was nice and soft, warm, smelled like... Yeah, it was good.
Ian stood there for a few seconds while the omega stretched out and took over his bed. Ian tilted his head and looked at him fondly. He really didn’t get to look at Mickey earlier. Everything happened so fast. He really was beautiful. Had an incredible ass and sexy legs.
Ian turned and headed into the bathroom. After pulling the stopper, he ran the water, letting the tub fill up. Once that was in order, he went over to the sink and looked at himself in the mirror. He grabbed a washcloth and lightly touched his skin. He didn’t really want to wash or shower because while Mickey smelled like him, he smelled like Mickey, too, and he liked it a lot.
His eyes travelled down to the mark Mickey had left on his wrist as he continued spot-cleaning. It was pretty dark and a little sore. Ian left the cloth on the counter and rubbed the mark as he left the bathroom.
As Mickey fell asleep, a low, rumbling noise started up in his chest and grew steadily, rising and falling with his slow breaths and filling the room with the sound. If Mickey were awake, he wouldn’t recognize it.
It was his omega purr. That uncontrollable reaction omegas only got when they were happy, satisfied, and feeling safe.
Re-entering the room, Ian instantly heard it. It was calm but strong and made his heart speed up, and the hair on his arms stand on end. “Aw,” he said inaudibly, moving around the bed to see if Mickey was asleep. He was, so Ian decided not to disturb him.
Ian grabbed a pair of boxers from his drawer and slipped them on before returning to the bathroom. He turned off the water and unplugged the tub. He got some wash rags and soaked them in warm water, then wrang them out before going back into the bedroom, where he climbed onto the bed and started to clean Mickey up.
Once he was done, Ian carefully picked Mickey up off the bed and laid him down in the nest.
Chapter 4: Fuck You!
Chapter Text
When Mickey woke up, he was warm and comfortable. His nose was buried in a pillow he'd wrapped his arms around and pulled towards his chest, and it smelled like home, like something he'd lost a long time ago. His eyebrows furrowed and moved as he slowly came back to awareness. He opened his eyes to find himself in a sea of pillows and blankets. They weren't his own, but it felt like he belonged in them anyway. What a weird fucking thing to think.
When he sat up and felt the throb in his ass that felt achier and needier than normal, it all came back to him. “Ah, shit,” he muttered through a dry throat. Gallagher must have moved him to the nest. Mickey's chest clenched stupidly at the thought.
It was darker in the room, and Gallagher wasn't in it. Mickey didn't know how, but he also knew Gallagher wasn't in the penthouse right now. He couldn't sense him—his presence.
Mickey's thirst overtook any more thinking. He got up and snagged a water bottle from the nightstand. He chugged two of them down to the last drop and sighed. Fuck, he must've been dehydrated as shit. No wonder, with all that slick he'd leaked.
Mickey glanced at the bed. It was clean again. How long had he been asleep? He never slept during heats. Physically couldn't. Most times, he was barely even lucid.
His stomach grumbled loudly, interrupting his thoughts again and reminding him he hadn't eaten in... well, who knew? He was fucking starving, and that was enough information for his brain. Without bothering to look for something to cover himself up with, Mickey made his way downstairs, bare feet making his steps light and quiet.
He glanced around again for Gallagher, but he wasn't there. Mickey tried to shrug off the uneasy feeling that crept up on him, knowing Gallagher had gone out somewhere while he was in rut.
What if he ran into another omega and—
Mickey scoffed at himself. He opened Gallagher's nice, stainless-steel fridge, peering inside. It was pretty neat in there, too. There were two bags with a green leaf logo on them that looked like they belonged to a grocery delivery service. It all looked like stuff that needed to be chopped and cooked, not simply popped in the microwave or oven. Mickey didn't know how the fuck to cook.
He grinned a bit when he spotted peanut butter, jelly, and a bag of bread in the bread box. Even fancy, rich Alphas liked PB&J. Not as good as a fluffernutter, his weakness, but it'd do.
Mickey made himself a sandwich. He had to open a few drawers and cupboards before he found the right ones for a plate and a butter knife. When he was done, he stared at the bread bag for a few seconds before starting to make more sandwiches. Just in case Gallagher wanted some, too.
He'd just finished when he heard the door to the penthouse open. Mickey heard Gallagher's voice but stiffened when another, different one followed it. Mickey's fist clenched around the butter knife (which, yeah, fucking great weapon that would be).
Gallagher said nobody would come in here, that it was safe—but he'd brought another guy home? Another Alpha?
They were still by the front door, talking in low tones Mickey couldn't make out. Mickey's heart started to pound as his fight or flight kicked in.
Part of him wanted to go out there and ask Gallagher what the fuck he was playing at, but his silencer was broken. He couldn't fight an Alpha right now—definitely not two Alphas.
He had to get out of there.
Mickey crept upstairs and shut the bedroom door softly, eyes wide, butter knife still idiotically clutched in his hand. He dropped it on the bed, looking around.
Gallagher's window. It had a fire escape.
Mickey opened Gallagher's closet, cringing when it squeaked. He held his breath and waited a few seconds. There were rows and rows of spiffy suits, but casual clothes were in the drawers. Mickey grabbed the first sweatshirt he saw and a pair of jeans and started putting them on in a hurry.
Fuck all of this. Fuck it. Fuck Gallagher for doing this, fuck himself for believing the guy. He knew Gallagher had been too nice. It hadn't been fucking real. He knew it wasn't. He was such a fucking chump, tamed by a hot bath and a hot fuck and a big knot. A nest. All those pretty words from Gallagher's mouth. Defences down.
Meanwhile, Gallagher had probably texted all his friends while Mickey was sleeping and—
Mickey stopped and breathed harshly, pressing his fist to his forehead.
Gallagher was a lawyer who fought for omegas. He wouldn't... He really hadn't seemed like the type to... but what the fuck did Mickey know right now?
Mickey went to the window and turned the latch, lifting it open and ducking his head and upper half to climb out.
ΩA
The Alpha was waiting patiently but excitedly for his omega to wake up. Ian knew Mickey hadn’t eaten and was still willing to cook for him. He had already thrown the laundry in—the sheets and Mickey’s clothes—so he went into his office to call his brother.
Ian was vague as hell, asking Lip if he could come get his keys and then go pick up his car from the nightclub, not really offering an explanation. While he waited, he uploaded the video of Joey to his computer from the flash drive. He didn’t really want to look at it right then but needed it there for later.
His phone pinged with a text. Ian headed down to give Lip his key and quickly thanked him for doing the errand for him, not giving him the chance to ask any questions, then went back upstairs to check on Mickey. The omega was still conked out, so Ian headed to his office and turned on his gaming computer to pre-occupy himself.
An hour later, Ian's phone pinged again. This time, when he went down to get his key, Lip stopped him and started to grill him. "You're in rut," he said, nose wrinkling as Ian's pheromones hit it. "Guessing you found some company?"
Ian didn’t keep secrets from his family, especially not Lip, so he let his brother come upstairs with him while he explained everything. Ian let himself in but blocked the doorway before Lip could enter, knowing if Mickey smelled another Alpha, he’d freak out. “I think he’s the one, Lip.”
Lip eyed him doubtfully. “Seriously? You still believe in that shit?”
Lip didn’t believe in soulmates either and didn’t have a mate of his own, so Ian knew he would be skeptical.
“I’m telling you, I’ve never felt like this. Had the best fuck of my entire life.” Ian heard something upstairs and detected a change in scent, an elevated heartbeat. Fear. Shit. “You gotta go. I think he’s awake.”
“Wait, Ian, I think maybe you should slow—”
Ian shut the door on Lip mid-sentence and ran up the stairs. His eyes widened when he got to his room and saw half of Mickey’s body out of the window. Ian jogged over, managing to grab his ankle. Mickey yelped out a curse.
“Where are you going?” Ian asked, pulling him despite the hard resistance and kicks from his other leg. “Don’t you like it here? You’re safe. You can’t go out there while you’re in heat!”
Mickey knew it was Gallagher before he spoke because he'd seen his bite mark on that pale arm, but he couldn’t hesitate. “Fuck off, I’m fuckin’ outta here!” he said. “Safe, my ass! I heard someone else! You bring someone over to have some fuckin’ fun with me?! Fuck you!”
Mickey didn’t care. He wasn’t fucking waiting around to find out. Mickey ducked back out the window as soon as Gallagher pulled him back in, struggling and shoving Gallagher away with all his strength.
He kicked out hard in a panic and felt it connect this time—something cracked under his foot, and Gallagher yelled. “Shit,” Mickey whispered.
He wriggled out the window and landed on the fire escape with a grunt, not thinking about anything other than getting the fuck away, pure panic in his veins. He got up, took the stairs two at a time, and then jumped a whole set, stumbling on the landing and catching himself against the railing. He panted, seeing stars and feeling heart palpitations. Mickey cursed, blinking them away before he kept going.
He didn’t stop until he hit the pavement, doubling over and coughing. He knew he had to run, had to run now. Mickey pushed off the wall and bolted down the alley, bare feet slapping against the ground.
Before Ian could explain that the other Alpha was his brother who was only dropping off the car, Mickey’s foot had connected directly with his jaw, and he'd gotten away. Ian's heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest at the possibility of losing him.
Ian fished his phone out of his pocket, calling Lip. After confirming that his brother was still there, waiting for his Uber outside, Ian told him that he'd spooked Mickey and needed help bringing him back because he was in heat and shouldn’t be outside.
He rubbed his jaw. He didn’t think it was broken, but it hurt like hell. Jesus Christ, all this omega was doing was causing him pain.
Ian gave Lip a brief description of Mickey before hanging up and making his way down the fire escape. He saw Lip run past as he was coming down. Hopefully, he’d catch Mickey, and he could fucking explain and get him back where he belonged.
Mickey was almost out of the alley when an Alpha suddenly appeared around the corner and blocked his path, raising his arms as Mickey collided with him.
The Alpha grabbed his shoulders. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Easy!”
Mickey recognized the voice as the one from downstairs. Mickey fought his hold violently, reeling back and punching the guy right in his ugly schnozz. He felt no remorse when he heard a crack this time, his knuckles flaring with pain.
The Alpha stumbled back, covering his nose as it started to pour blood, curly hair bouncing. “Jesus, little bitch—!”
Mickey scrambled past him as Gallagher’s feet hit the pavement way behind them, but before he could get any further, the other Alpha’s voice hit him square in the chest.
“Stop! Don’t fucking move, omega, and calm the fuck down.”
Mickey screeched to a halt, making a strangled noise as his legs suddenly failed to work no matter how much he wanted them to. Instead, they relaxed like they’d turned into liquid, and he had to catch himself against the building, turning around and planting his back against it defensively before his whole body obeyed the order.
He had no choice. He couldn’t fight it. He couldn’t move.
It was hard not to freak out. Mickey wasn’t allowed to freak out, though. He had to stay calm, so he did. He was paralyzed, and nothing was okay, but it also was. It was an uncomfortable sensation, like having a wall put up in his head.
“Fuck you,” he said weakly, panting.
“Yeah, I’m gonna go ahead and say no to that,” the Alpha said.
Mickey’s throat clicked as he swallowed. He couldn’t raise his chin, eyes glued to the Alpha’s feet. He was glad the other Alpha sounded nasal.
Ian stepped off the fire escape, and Lip glared at him. “You sure know how to pick ‘em, bro.”
Ian felt guilty that Lip had to use his Alpha voice, but he was happy he had, so Ian hadn't had to. It had gotten Mickey to stop, finally. Maybe Ian should’ve been the one to use his voice earlier before all of this escalated—and holy fuck, there was a lot of blood running down Lip’s face.
“I’m sorry,” Ian said to Lip because, of course, the pain that Mickey had inflicted on him had to be extended to this brother.
Ian sighed and moved in front of Mickey. He was standing against the wall, looking down at his feet. Ian took his index finger and gently tilted Mickey’s chin up so he would look at him.
It hurt a little bit when Gallagher raised his chin because he wasn’t supposed to move, but Mickey stopped thinking about that, about everything, when their gazes met.
“I’m sorry to you too," the Alpha said. "I didn’t tell you Lip was coming over because you were asleep. When you woke up, I understand that you were completely taken off guard and thought you were in trouble. You did a stellar job of protecting yourself, but you got it all wrong. I left my car at the club and asked my brother—my one-hundred percent straight brother—to bring it here.”
“Yeah, I am, but now my nose isn’t,” Lip complained, touching it gingerly as it oozed blood.
Ian rolled his eyes.
Mickey ignored the other Alpha, focused on Gallagher entirely. There wasn’t any blazing anger radiating from him. Not even a spark of it. Instead... the Alpha had apologized to him. Even though Mickey had just beaten him up and punched his friend... no, brother? Oh. Oh, fuck.
He should have felt doubtful because if that other Alpha really was Gallagher’s brother, he would be much more pissed off that Mickey had hurt him. Blood was thicker than some random fucking omega in heat he’d just met a day ago.
But for some reason, Mickey believed him.
“He’s harmless to you. He has no intention of hurting you, and neither do I," Ian promised. "He didn’t even know you were at my place until he brought the car back. Will you come back inside with us? And stop hurting us because we’re just trying to help you. I promised you’d be safe with me, and I meant it. Please stay with me.”
Mickey swallowed again, unable to look away. It was just a misunderstanding. Right?
Ian reached out to take Mickey’s hand, lacing their fingers together.
Mickey softened, stomach twisting in guilt. Gallagher’s grip was warm and gentle. Trusting. Mickey blamed the fact that he wasn’t in his own control for the reason why he didn’t pull his hand away. Their fingers slotted together like puzzle pieces.
Gallagher’s jaw was swelling up and starting to change colour. Fuck, Mickey hadn’t meant to do that.
Okay, that wasn’t true... but he wanted to take it back now.
Maybe Mickey could use his touch. He could literally kiss it fuckin’ better. Omegas had properties in their skin that could heal Alphas—more in their saliva.
Fuck, he was such a bad omega. Why did Gallagher want him to stay? He'd actually said please, please stay. Why was he being so fucking kind? It didn’t make sense. Mickey had hurt his Alpha.
He needed to go. He needed to go back to the South Side, back to his place, back to where he belonged.
Ian was more annoyed at Lip for making a shitty comment about his omega than he was at Mickey for what he'd done to the both of them. It was out of self-defence; he was trying to protect himself. Lip would be fine. It probably looked worse than it was. Ian wasn’t worried about him in the slightest.
Lip could fend for himself. He was Ian’s older brother, after all. He was strong and way smarter than Ian was. He gave Ian shit all the time, and when they were younger, they'd fought. He'd punched Lip in the face once. Even though Ian was younger, he was taller and physically stronger.
He was pretty sure a couple of other Alphas had beaten Lip’s ass before because of his mouth, but never an omega. Fuck. That just made Ian like Mickey even more.
Ian liked Mickey a fucking lot. Mickey didn’t know what he'd told Lip before these events had unfolded. His brother knew that Mickey meant something to him.
“Okay,” Mickey finally said. “I won’t... I won’t do nothin’. Won’t hurt you. M’not gonna freak out again.”
Relief washed over Ian. While Mickey’s face wasn’t very expressive due to Lip’s command, he could see the realization and regret in his eyes. Ian was happy the omega was back on his side.
Mickey waited. One of them had to tell him he could move again and that he could feel however he wanted to feel, or he’d be in this calm state forever. "Control over my own fuckin' limbs again would be nice," he griped.
Ian looked at Lip. “I promised him I wouldn’t use my Alpha voice. Snap him out of this so we can get back inside.”
He'd meant it when he told Mickey he wouldn’t use his voice to control him.
Lip looked disgruntled as he wiped blood off on his sleeve, but he complied. “I release you from my commands, omega.”
Mickey took a few long breaths as he regained control of his body and mind. It felt like coming up for air after being underwater for a long time, too hard and too fast. Mickey didn’t express any gratitude, but when Gallagher looked at him and squeezed his hand, the Alpha felt like his anchor. Mickey didn’t pull away, and he was quiet as they went back up to Gallagher’s penthouse.
Gallagher’s brother, on the other hand, continued to fill up the silence with his bellyaching. It surprised Mickey how okay he was holding Gallagher’s hand, that he kind of missed it when Gallagher let go.
Once they all were inside, Ian let go to grab a towel from the kitchen, dampening it under the tap so Lip could clean himself up. That was when he noticed the sandwiches.
“You made us food?” Ian asked Mickey softly. He was definitely hungry. He handed Lip the towel and picked one up.
Mickey ducked his head at the note of wonder in Ian's tone. Simple as shit meal didn’t deserve that. Before Mickey could say anything, Gallagher’s brother raised an eyebrow in disdain.
“Wow, PB&J. That takes skill. ”
"Shut up, Lip," Ian said, defending his omega.
Mickey decided not to react beyond a snort. While he was starting to trust Gallagher, he didn’t trust Gallagher’s brother not to use his voice on him again, so he’d keep his mouth shut.
Despite the comment, the other Alpha grabbed one of Mickey’s sandwiches and left the kitchen, wet cloth held to his nose.
When Ian opened his mouth wide enough to take a bite, he groaned in pain. Maybe his jaw was worse than he'd thought.
“I got you good, huh.” Mickey came closer and looked at Gallagher’s jaw again. He could do something. He wanted to. “Here, let me...”
Ian agreed. Mickey had gotten him good in more ways than one. He set the sandwich down, readying himself.
Mickey bit his lip and glanced up at Gallagher as he lifted his hand to touch him. Mickey rubbed his thumb and fingertips along Gallagher’s furry cheek and then cupped his jaw carefully, holding it there. He focused on where his hand was, feeling some of that heat leech into it. It wouldn’t be a total fix, but it would get rid of some of that inflammation and pain.
Ian’s eyes went glassy with nostalgia. He was in awe. He knew omegas could heal Alphas but had never had anyone besides Monica do it for him, long ago. He relaxed, letting out a small, satisfied sound. He liked being touched this tenderly by the omega, especially since there had been nothing tender about the sex they'd had (except for Ian’s unwanted handholding). He hadn’t even realized how bad of shape he was in until the pain dissipated.
Mickey lowered his hand when Gallagher’s jaw had cooled. It looked better. He looked down, and his gaze caught on Gallagher’s arm again. “Might as well do this one too. You bruise like a fuckin’ peach, red,” Mickey said.
He hadn’t even bitten Gallagher that hard. Mickey wrapped his fingers around Gallagher’s wrist and covered the spot with his other palm, rubbing it soothingly along the bite.
Ian was surprised that the omega wanted to keep healing him. Ian couldn’t complain. He even liked being called a peach. The fuck. That was so cute. “Never got so bruised until I met you.”
He didn’t mean it in a negative way. This omega had bruised him and his Alpha ego. It felt like magic, having Mickey essentially pet his arm.
Mickey made a noise of bewilderment when he lifted his hand, and the bruise hadn’t changed. It hadn’t changed at all. “Lemme try that again,” Mickey muttered, staring at it.
Changing tactics, Mickey lifted Gallagher’s arm and brought it to his lips. Gallagher’s pulse went wild, and he almost smirked. Mickey flicked his tongue out and traced it along the uneven bumps on Gallagher’s skin, leaving a warm, wet trail.
Ian hadn’t felt Mickey’s mouth before. They hadn’t even kissed yet. The gesture made his heart want to fly out of his chest.
Mickey lowered the Alpha’s arm and watched, waiting. Still, nothing happened. He frowned. “Sorry man, that one’s gonna have to heal on its own, I guess.”
Maybe his suppressants had really fucked up everything about him. Maybe his healing was fucking hit or miss, too.
“That’s okay. I like the way it looks.” Ian looked down at it. It was a nice color, and he liked wearing Mickey on him.
Mickey fought a pleased flush. While Mickey kept bruising Gallagher's Alpha ego, Gallagher kept stroking his omega one.
“Uber’s here, bro. I’m out!” Lip shouted, interrupting their moment and heading for the door. “Give me a call if you need help taming that little omega again!”
A rumbling growl started from the pit of Ian's stomach. He wanted to attack Lip for his words, but luckily for his brother, there was a room’s distance between them, and he was shutting the door behind himself before Ian could turn around.
Mickey's lip curled in false amusement, but he let it go. He was just glad that pompous Alpha was gone because something about having him there, now, so close to the nest (my goddamn nest, his omega insisted stubbornly), made Mickey uncomfortable as all get out. He didn't want to delve too deep into the reason behind that. No omega wanted strange Alphas around while they were in heat, right? It was an invasion of privacy, simple as that.
“He can be such a fucking dick. I’m sorry.” Ian took Mickey’s hand and rubbed his stubbled jaw against his palm, kissing it for fixing him.
Gallagher's lips pressing against him brought Mickey the memory of Gallagher's lips on his neck, of their frenzied urgency, of himself demanding Gallagher for his knot. Mickey pulled his hand back quickly.
“Ain't your fault, most Alphas are,” he answered. Himself included, when he was playing the part. He practically was the part. “Your brother's just lucky I ain't back to normal yet. I don't tolerate shit like that. Nobody speaks to me that way.”
When he showed the world Mickey the Alpha, he got respect. Heats really fucked with his head, with everything he'd built for himself. Gallagher and his asshole brother were now the only people in the world who knew what he really was. That would have been bad if he planned to see either of them again.
The reminder of how temporary this was had Mickey stepping back. He'd healed Gallagher. He didn't need to be this close. His omega was just feeling clingy towards the guy because he'd been under Alpha control, and Gallagher had stopped it.
Ian tensed up when Mickey pulled away from him, not expecting it, but he should’ve by now. He hated the loss of warmth between them and Mickey’s defiance because it continued. He didn’t know what he was expecting. The rut and Mickey’s heat were fucking with him too.
He dropped his arm and picked up his sandwich again, mainly to keep himself from getting mad when Mickey mentioned he wasn’t back to normal yet. Pretending to be an Alpha really wasn’t fucking normal.
While Ian was convinced that Mickey was his soulmate, he didn’t even fucking know him. Mickey had made it obvious that he wasn’t interested in being his omega, even if Ian had claimed him out loud and in his head.
To Ian’s disappointment, Mickey would continue with the fake Alpha shit that made him repulsive to Ian. Untouchable and unattainable.
Mickey picked up the last sandwich on the plate and walked further into the kitchen. “So, any more of your family gonna show up here tonight or that it?”
He wasn't asking Gallagher to make him apologize again. He just hoped that the answer was no.
Ian took a bite and went to the refrigerator to get himself a beer to wash down the peanut butter. He scoffed. “No, you’re safe,” Ian insisted. “Not that my family is a threat. They’re pretty funny and entertaining. Like to party, smoke and drink when there isn’t court in the morning.”
“Smoking, huh? Thought that was against the law,” Mickey teased, taking another bite and moving behind the island. Those chairs looked way too fucking clean for his sticky jam sandwich, so he leaned on the counter instead, resting his arms as he enjoyed it.
He couldn’t imagine a bunch of lawyers being fun people, especially if they were like that asshole Mickey just met. He watched Gallagher as he reached into his fridge for a beer—eyeing the long line of his back and his firm-looking ass shamelessly until the Alpha straightened up again.
Ian rolled his eyes at the lame joke, but Mickey still made him smile with it. He was cute. Ian drank his beer after taking another bite of the sandwich.
“How many are there of you Gallaghers, anyway?” Mickey asked, taking a bite of his own. Wasn’t like he Googled them or anything. Not all of them.
“There’s six of us kids."
Mickey’s eyebrows jumped. He was about to ask if all of them were filthy rich Alpha lawyers when Gallagher turned the question back around on him.
"What about you? You mentioned your family works at the club, so you're in the family business, too.”
“There’s six of us, too,” Mickey said. It was a weird coincidence, but he didn’t think anything of it. A lot of families ran businesses together. “Got four brothers and a sister.”
Ian hadn't expected that. “I got three brothers and two sisters. Three of us are lawyers. Lip, who you just met. His assholishness makes him a damn good lawyer. Fiona, she’s the oldest. She’s a force to be reckoned with; can win any argument and make you feel bad even if she’s the one who did some fucked up shit to you.
Debbie works in the office, and Carl,” Ian had to laugh because that kid was ridiculous, “he’s a TikTok live streamer. Basically, he’s lucky because we let him mooch off the rest of us. Then there’s Liam. He’s still in school, and he’s the quiet one.”
It was hard not to keep rambling on. Ian loved and admired his family greatly, but he was more curious about Mickey.
Mickey watched Gallagher’s face change as he talked about his brothers and sisters. It went from animated to proud to fond. It was apparent the Alpha loved his family, and it made Mickey’s dumb hormonal omega warm like a melted marshmallow.
That feeling ebbed as Gallagher asked him another question.
“You the only omega out of your siblings?”
Mickey put his crusts down and licked his lips free of crumbs, feeling uncomfortable even hearing Gallagher mention him being an omega out loud. “Nah, my sister is,” he said. “Mandy.” Mickey’s voiced his twin’s name protectively. “Works in our admin office.”
As far as his family knew, Mandy was their only omega. Even she didn’t know about him, and they were close. It was a secret Mickey was going to take to his grave.
It was interesting that Mickey’s sister was also an omega. Mickey had mentioned her before when they’d first met at the club because he hadn’t wanted to deal with Ian’s intrusiveness. Ian wondered how many people knew about Mickey and if his family were aware. Were people who ran a nightclub really progressive enough to let an omega run the show?
Ian finished off his sandwich and got Mickey a water.
Mickey quirked an eyebrow as he accepted the bottle. “Ay, you not gonna share your beer with me, Gallagher?”
“Of course, but you need water too. You lost a lot of slick.” Ian smirked at the memory and thought of them getting right back to it. Ian fetched him a beer from the fridge, moving around the island to hand it to him.
Mickey bit the corner of his mouth to stem a smile. The water in the bedroom had been weirdly thoughtful. Mickey wasn't used to anyone giving a shit about anything to do with him, especially not if he was fuckin' hydrated. “Thanks, man,” he said, accepting the can and cracking it open.
“You know that you can call me Ian, right? That’s my name.”
Ian had been called Gallagher before but wasn’t used to it, considering he spent a lot of time around his family, who were all Gallaghers.
“I know your name. It's really Carrot Top, right?” Mickey teased again. “Ian is just your cover.”
He didn't know why he didn't want to call the Alpha by his first name, why he refused to use Ian even in his thoughts. Or maybe he did know. Because if he did, that meant Gallagher would become someone to him, become familiar. Using his last name kept a distance Mickey needed.
Ian actually laughed, not that that crack was any better of a joke than the last one. He guessed Mickey still wasn’t going to call him by his first name. Hearing him say it just once made the hair on Ian’s arms stand up. He wanted it even more now.
That wasn’t the only thing Ian wanted that Mickey was denying him, either. Mickey not wanting to be his omega made Ian hyper-focused on getting him to be. Ian wanted to claim him. He was fucked.
“You still hungry?” he asked. “I can order anything you like.”
Mickey cocked his head to the side. “Maybe later. Maybe I'll want steak and lobster, huh? You wanna order that for me?”
“I have steak! It’d be faster to cook you up one than order, and it’d probably taste better, but if you really want lobster, then I’ll order that as well. Anything for you.” Ian had a feeling that wouldn’t be the last time he said that.
Mickey scratched the back of his neck. Gallagher had actually taken him seriously. Lobster was the most expensive food he could think of. What rich people ate besides fucking caviar and shit. He just said he wanted it to yank Gallagher's chain.
An Alpha willing to get anything for an omega was another sign that this rut was really doing a number on him.
“Steak à la Gallagher sounds fine to me,” Mickey said, trying not to look as off-kilter as he felt.
Ian really hadn’t had a chance to check out Mickey’s outfit, but he noticed it now. Possessiveness heated and curled in his gut as he recognized his sweater, his jeans.
“This looks good on you.” Ian tugged at the arm of the sweatshirt. “Pants are a little long, though. Surprised you were able to get them up over your ass.”
Mickey had almost forgotten he was wearing Gallagher’s clothes. The sweater was comfortable—like a smaller version of the nest since it smelled like Alpha. Mickey knew he had a big ass. It was one stereotypical omega trait he hadn’t been able to change. The pants were pretty fuckin’ snug, though.
“Uh-huh, and I'm surprised you can fit that monster cock of yours in here,” Mickey shot back, raising his eyebrows and glancing down. “Ain’t very roomy in the front.”
Ian grinned. Mickey was wearing one of the tightest pairs of pants he owned, and you could see the entire outline of his cock in those. “Bet you thought it wasn’t gonna fit. You took it like a champ, though. Every inch... My knot, too,” Ian complimented. “I turn heads in those jeans. They’re my favorite ones.”
“I knew I could fuckin' take it,” Mickey said, smirking. His omega was puffing up like a fuckin’ peacock. Gallagher needed to stop with the compliments. “Have you had omegas who couldn't take ya before?”
Mickey had the cockiness of an Alpha, but an Alpha would never boast about taking it up the ass if they ever did. Ian liked the confidence that Mickey had. It made him different and attractive. Omegas were never like this. They didn’t ask questions about other omegas. The thought of another omega made them extremely jealous and territorial.
“They could all take me, but I’ve never given anyone my knot, so who knows…” It was a not-so-casual comment. He wanted to tell Mickey that he didn’t knot everyone he fucked. He’d never knotted anyone else because they weren’t worthy.
Mickey laughed. Hopefully, it was loud enough to cover up the rapid change in his heartbeat, but Alphas had strong senses and could pinpoint and hone in on specific sounds if they chose to. Mickey swallowed, trying to regulate the fast pace.
A lot of Alphas, the ones in Mickey's life anyway, didn't care much about who they gave their knot to. Some of them always popped it no matter who they were with—not because all of them wanted a hoard of pups, but because the orgasm was supposedly ten times better with than without.
Mickey was surprised Gallagher had waited so long. Maybe the rut had just been his tipping point. It had nothing to do with Mickey, no matter what Gallagher thought. Mickey focused again, forcing his mind and his omega to let it go.
He stepped back, away from Gallagher. When had he come close again? “It's gettin' kinda warm."
Mickey put his beer down on the island and ducked his head, tugging the sweatshirt up his back and off. He was bare underneath. Mickey put it on one of the stools and picked up his beer again. He was thirsty, more than he realized, and some escaped the corners of his mouth as he guzzled.
Ian watched Mickey. His temperature was rising. Ian knew that wasn’t good, and he definitely wasn’t about to get him another beer, either.
“You need water, Mick,” Ian said, taking the lid off the bottle and handing it to him so he’d actually drink it. “I’ll get the steaks started...”
Mickey didn't argue this time. He already had two waters earlier and didn't even have to piss. He needed it. “Alright, alright, I'm drinkin'.”
Ian turned his back to open the fridge. He pulled out two steaks wrapped in parchment paper. He’d picked them up from a local butcher to get the highest quality meat. Before closing the door, he grabbed a stick of butter to fry them in. He set it all down to get the pan and fired up the stove.
Ian didn’t have a mate. He lived alone, and the majority of the time, his mother had been absent from his life. He’d had to fend for himself and became a pretty good cook in the process.
Ian slid a generous pat of butter off his knife and into the skillet, letting it melt while he unwrapped and seasoned the steaks. He would let them kiss the hot surface of the pan just to sear them since there was only one way to eat a steak: rare. He was hungry himself. Fucking while in rut made him ravenous for meat.
Mickey hoisted himself up on the stool, sitting on the sweatshirt instead of that white fabric. He wasn't leaking slick anymore, but at least if he did, he wouldn't get it on something that couldn't be cleaned. “Guess I better make sure I don't ruin these pants so they can still make boxers drop in the future.” He had no doubts Gallagher got lots of omega ass with that cock.
The steak was smelling so good, but Ian’s mind was focused on Mickey and getting him naked again. “I don’t think you’ll have them on for very long,” Ian commented, turning around to grab two plates.
Mickey snickered again to cover up his heart pounding at the implication that he’d be fucked again soon. He thought Ian might’ve picked up on it anyway because his lips curved smugly. Mickey watched the Alpha, taking a long drink from the water bottle. Honestly, it was kinda sexy—an Alpha who could cook.
“Most Alphas I know don't know their ass from a frying pan,” Mickey said, putting his chin in his palm. The smell that wafted up as the meat sizzled was fuckin' heavenly. “You teach yourself?”
“Yeah,” Ian said, turning his attention back to the steaks and flipping them to sear the other side. “Monica was only around long enough to pop out pups. Had to fend for ourselves. I almost burnt down the house once when I was ten.”
He chuckled, even though that wasn’t a fond memory for him. He’d learned pretty quickly, and it wasn’t that hard. He liked cooking. He didn’t have to rely on anyone. Ian turned off the stove and moved the steaks to their respective plates to let them rest while he pulled out the silverware.
Gallagher's mom sounded like a piece of work. An omega abandoning her pups was a real dirty thing to do. Most wouldn't even fucking dream of it, fiercely protective and willing to die for them, to do anything for their family.
Mickey's mom had never abandoned them, though she'd found other ways to escape, ultimately leading to... well.
“Your dad wasn't around either?” Mickey asked.
Ian looked up, his brow furrowed. The thought of Frank being around or willing to cook for them wasn’t even plausible. “No. Fiona... She looked after us. He was busy.”
There was no need to mention that Ian was his least favorite and got the brunt of bad moods and lost cases.
Mickey watched how Gallagher’s body language changed. So, Gallagher had neglectful parents. His sister had to take care of them and pick up the slack. That must’ve been why he sounded so close to his siblings. The Alpha wasn’t as much of a spoiled prick as Mickey had assumed when he first saw him.
Ian placed a fork and knife next to Mickey’s steak before setting the plate in front of him.
Mickey looked down, and his stomach made an audible noise of appreciation. “Damn, looks fuckin’ good, red,” he said.
It really did. That was a nice fucking steak, seared and crispy along the edges. Mickey picked up the knife and fork Gallagher gave him and dove in. He hadn’t had meat that wasn’t cheap shit like hot dogs or cold cuts in longer than he could remember. Why the fuck was Gallagher wasting this on him?
Ian had some questions of his own for Mickey but decided to wait until he had another beer for himself, had taken a seat, and was halfway through his steak before he chose to speak again. “Why did you—I mean, do you hide it?”
Ian knew there were various reasons. Trauma was usually the main reason omegas tried to change or camouflage. He wanted to know why Mickey didn’t want to be himself, more specifically, because Ian was attracted to his omega.
Mickey quirked an eyebrow and gave Gallagher a quizzical look. He thought the answer to that was obvious. “Why do ya fuckin' think, Gallagher? My family owns an Alpha club in the fuckin’ South Side. You think I could run it as an omega?”
Male omegas, especially, were at the bottom in the eyes of his family and many. Their bloodline had female omegas and strong male Alphas. It was pure and traditional. Colin had gotten enough hassle from everyone growing up just being a beta. But being pushed to the side because you were a boring beta was a whole lot better than being an omega.
Mickey had seen how his mom had been controlled and beaten down by her Alpha, by Mickey's dad, nearly every day growing up. She had been forced to have pups and be housebound, obey every order, and even sell herself to other Alphas to help them pay rent and feed everyone.
He had seen how his family and other people treated male omegas. Mickey would be reduced to nothing but a fuck toy to laugh at and abuse if he came out. Nobody would take him seriously. He wouldn’t have any power.
“Ain't never gonna be some mind-controlled breeder bitch,” Mickey added vehemently.
Mickey was right. Ian knew society, his family and the business. Mickey was doing a really good job of being undetectable as an omega under a plethora of Alphas. He was powerful, too. It impressed Ian immensely. He knew omegas could be independent, and not all were reduced to mind-controlled breeders.
“Nobody asked you to,” Ian responded.
He wouldn’t ask Mickey to do that, to give up his life. It was all his. Although, if Mickey’s family found out about him, they would see that omegas were capable of much more than the traditional role of an omega. It just wouldn’t be all sunshine and roses if Mickey came out. It wouldn’t be celebrated or something to learn from.
Ian guessed he was looking for more of an existential answer, like why did Mickey choose the family business? He didn’t have to stay—but that was a question Ian could’ve asked himself, too. Family was family.
Mickey said nothing. That was exactly the problem. Nobody was going to ask him to do anything if he came out. They would tell him, and he’d have no choice but to roll over and comply. Gallagher probably didn’t mean it that way, but Gallagher didn’t know shit about him, about how it felt. Sure, he helped omegas, but he wasn’t an omega himself. He was lucky. He was born Alpha, on the top of the totem pole. He’d never really understand.
The amount of trust Mickey was putting in Gallagher now, just sitting here in his own skin, no armour on, defenceless to the Alpha voice, and in heat to boot...
Whatever, Mickey didn’t want to think about this shit anymore. He finished off the last of the steak. “Thanks for dinner,” he said, putting the silverware on his plate and licking some stray juice from the meat off his thumb.
Mickey’s omega wanted to do more to show his gratitude, to do something ridiculous like kiss Gallagher on the cheek and then something dirty like drop to his knees in front of him. Mickey did neither.
Ian sighed and got up off the stool. “You don’t have to thank me. I wanted to.” He wasn’t looking for a thank you or reimbursement.
Ian picked up their empty plates and took them to the sink to wash them. He had a bad habit of doing all the shit his maid got paid to do.
Mickey watched Gallagher’s back. His omega was confused by the behaviour. Cooking, cleaning... Hell, Gallagher was the most omega-acting Alpha Mickey had ever seen, wasn’t he? Except for that dick.
Ian shut off the water when he was done and dried his hands. He tilted his head slightly. “You still satisfied from earlier?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. Maybe Mickey was interested in round two.
“Nah, think I could use a top-up,” Mickey said, letting a grin grow on his face.
He tried not to grin too often because it made his cheeks puffy as fuck and soft, not at all Alpha-like, but the offer of seconds was too good to resist. Mickey hopped off the stool and swaggered over to Gallagher, body radiating excess heat.
That grin was infectious. It had Ian grinning, too.
“Normally, I don’t leave bed...” Mickey pressed his hips against Gallagher’s, using force to pin him against the counter. Gallagher knew what he was talking about. He didn’t have to say it. “When I do get ‘em, takes days for it to end.”
Ian let out a low groan. This omega was ballsy as fuck, which he already knew, but he wasn’t going to give up control easily. Ian had ideas.
He found Mickey gorgeous, absolutely stunning, especially up close. He was staring, focusing on his perfect lips, still somehow managing to listen. Mickey’s voice was hot and deep, but what he talked about made Ian feel bad. Wasn’t spending his heat alone lonely and difficult? But it also turned Ian on, like Mickey was waiting for him.
Ian cupped Mickey’s face. He was so fucking pretty. “Gonna take care of you.”
Mickey had only shared what he did to let Gallagher know he would be nearly insatiable for however long this heat lasted, that he was and would be down to fuck every time—and to give the Alpha a visual. Gallagher took it the wrong way. The sweet way, again, which seemed to be his M.O. Giving Mickey reassurances.
The Alpha was looking at Mickey like Mickey was the only thing he wanted, all that unblinking focus directly on his lips making Mickey’s omega feel like the most desired in the universe.
Mickey’s heart suddenly went from zero to a hundred like it was off to the fucking races because he knew exactly what Gallagher was going to do. The space around them seemed to slow down.
Ian leaned in to kiss him.
This wasn’t the first time an Alpha or an omega had tried to, but this was closer than any Alpha had gotten to succeeding before. Mickey had never... shit, he’d never kissed anyone. He licked his lips instinctively. But it couldn’t be that hard. Right? He wondered what Gallagher would taste like, and if he’d be rough or gentle, if... Jesus, what the fuck was he thinking?
Gallagher’s lips were a centimeter away from his when Mickey jerked away.
“I ain’t into that,” he said, backing up and smirking to hide his voice, unsteady with nerves. “Why don’t you save the romantic shit for somebody else and get the fuck on me instead?”
Ian was expecting pillowy, soft, luscious lips, but instead, the beautiful face he had in his hands was ripped away. What Mickey said made his ears burn. He could feel his whole face flush in embarrassment.
Mickey was smirking. He thought it was funny. Ian was being vulnerable. He didn’t go around kissing every omega he ever fucked, but this one… Mickey. He was special.
Ian had built him up so much in his head. This hurt. A lot. He rubbed his jaw. It was starting to ache again. The pain physically and emotionally snapped him out of the fog of his rut.
It was awkward now. He didn’t know how he could get on Mickey when he’d been denied like that, and it was becoming clear that Mickey just wanted to use him.
“I think your clothes are dry…” Ian said slowly, gathering his thoughts, trying to figure out what to do. His pride wouldn’t let him give Mickey what he wanted. “I’ll go get them and take you home so you can spend your heat however you’d like, doing whatever the fuck you're into. It obviously isn't me.”
Mickey’s heart was still beating frantically. He lost his nervous smirk, taking a step back at Gallagher’s hostile tone and finding himself fighting an actual flinch. Fuck.
Ian didn’t bother to stick around for a response. He couldn’t bear to be in the presence of the omega when he was this upset. He couldn’t be around him. He had to take him home. Let him fend for his fucking self.
“Ay, come on man, it ain’t...” Mickey tried, but Gallagher had already left. Fucking ran right out of the room.
Mickey put his hand out and gripped the edge of the counter, breathing in slowly until his body calmed, but his ears were alert. He thought he’d been clear about what this was when they started. He thought Gallagher had agreed. Fucking, nothing more. And yet he was upset when he tried to kiss Mickey, and Mickey said no.
Mickey felt something drop like a stone in the bottom of his stomach. It probably would be better if he left. He shouldn’t have even let them fuck in the first place—shouldn’t have let Gallagher knot him and shouldn’t have allowed him to do any of that nice shit to him after he saw that nest.
At least Gallagher’s foggy rut mind realized now that Mickey wasn’t the omega for him. He wasn’t a good omega, wasn’t one who deserved all that kindness and caring Gallagher wanted to give. Wasn’t one who could accept it.
The stone grew heavier in Mickey’s stomach. He put his hand against it, pushing, willing the pain away.
Jesus, this was fucking ridiculous. He barely knew the guy. Mickey looked in the direction Gallagher had disappeared. His omega was angry at him and wanted him to go after the Alpha, to make it better, to say he was sorry and do anything so he could stay.
Mickey cupped his hand along the side of his neck, hissing softly when he touched his tender scent gland. This was precisely why he’d never wanted to spend a fucking heat with an Alpha. Everything got fucked when he wasn’t wearing his armor.
Maybe he should go apologize. Tell Gallagher he’d find a better omega sooner than he knew it. But what good would that do besides rub salt in a fresh wound? Gallagher was in rut, and everything he felt would be ten times worse than usual. Same for Mickey. That was why he was feeling so sick right now. They were both hormonal as shit.
ΩA
Ian didn’t know how he could’ve gotten things so wrong. How his Alpha was convinced that Mickey was his… if he really wasn’t. If he was, wouldn’t he want to be Ian’s? He could care for an omega and provide anything they needed or desired.
Ian hadn’t been able to connect or have a real relationship with anyone. Omegas he'd brought home wanted him, his knot, and to be taken care of, except he hadn’t done any of those things until today. He hadn’t gone into rut either.
He couldn’t deal with this right now. He wasn’t in the mood. He was incredibly agitated, shaking as he pulled Mickey’s clothes from the dryer. He kept shaking his head at himself, too, unbelievably mad at no one but himself.
He felt so fucking stupid. Why’d he even bother? When Mickey’s heat was over, he would go back to playing big bad Alpha and would never choose to be Ian’s. It wasn’t a fucking choice. It was denying biology and fate. Fuck him.
Ian could sense that Mickey was in pain. Ian was in pain, too, and so warm that he was sweating. The further and longer he was away from Mickey, the larger the urge to whimper grew. He paused when he was about to walk past his room.
The door was open, and the nest was still there, unoccupied. It was making him angry seeing it, and it smelled like Mickey. All he wanted was to be in it, with Mickey, knot deep.
Ian wobbled on his feet. He felt weak and sick. He needed to lay down, so he walked into his room and curled up in the nest, wrapping his arms around Mickey’s clothes and breathing in the scent that lingered there, finally letting out the whimper he’d been holding in.
Chapter Text
Gallagher was taking a long time getting his clothes. It was quiet. There was no movement in the apartment.
The stone in Mickey’s stomach was so big and heavy now that he was having difficulty breathing around it. His omega—his fucking lizard brain—knew what to do, what it wanted. Alpha.
Mickey moved to the stool with Gallagher’s sweater on it and grabbed it, slipping it over his head. The scent wasn’t strong enough, but it helped a little bit. Mickey wrapped his arms around himself and buried his nose in the hood, shuddering like a junkie taking a hit. Fuck, this was crazy. Why did it hurt so fucking bad?
He heard the heartbroken sound two seconds later, and his entire body went still, his belly throbbing.
The bedroom. He was in the bedroom.
Mickey let out an answering whine, soft and distressed.
ΩA
Ian didn’t know what was happening, but whatever it was, it was terrifying. He felt paralyzed. He knew Mickey was expecting him to come back and take him home, but the pain was excruciating, so much so that Ian couldn’t sit up, his eyes scrunched shut.
The sound of agony from his omega felt like a million needles were stabbing him. Ian tried again to move. He could sense Mickey’s presence getting closer but couldn't do anything.
ΩA
Mickey didn’t stay in the kitchen for long; his omega instincts finally took the reins and told him to go fuck himself. He couldn’t stay away. Suddenly, all that mattered was his Alpha. Mickey had to go to him, be with him, wanted him in him and around him and—
Mickey dropped to his knees in the middle of the nest, in front of Gallagher’s curled-up form. He wanted to lay behind him and use his touch to calm him down, but his omega wouldn’t let him.
Speak, you fucking pussy. Tell the truth.
“I don’t know what the fuck is goin’ on,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry, fuck. I don’t wanna leave. You’re perfect, ‘course I want you. But I’m no good, no fuckin’ good. You deserve better.”
He was babbling, but his omega was urging him on, wanting him to spill everything. Mickey reached out tentatively in case Gallagher growled at him not to, needing to heal him again.
Ian frowned deeply. He disagreed that Mickey wasn’t a good omega, especially since he was apologizing. “I want you,” he replied.
Fuck. Mickey cupped Gallagher’s face, feeling healing energy seep from his fingers into Gallagher’s hot skin, cooling it down. He only let go once Gallagher started to relax.
Gallagher reached out, pulling Mickey flush against him and holding him there. Mickey whined again, this time in relief, and curled around the Alpha protectively. He was still on his knees, so it brought Gallagher’s upper body and face close to his stomach, where it hurt most, draped over his lap. Mickey closed his eyes as that heavy stone shrank, replaced by a warm, honey-like feeling that took all the pain away and made him sigh. His Alpha forgave him. His Alpha... wanted him.
After a little while, Ian felt like he could breathe properly again. He wasn’t aware that breathing had been an issue because the pain, paralysis and angry burning of his skin had been his most prevalent ailments. He knew that an omega’s rejection could have side effects but wasn’t expecting to have any reaction other than emotional, which was easy for Alphas to control. He didn’t realize being hurt by his omega would make him so weak.
“I’m here,” Mickey said. A distant ripple of surprise went through him at the gentle cadence of what could only be his omega voice coming out—the same as before, when he’d told Ian his nest was perfect. He’d never used his voice on purpose before, but it tumbled from him like it’d been waiting. His omega knew Gallagher needed it.
While ultimately useless at controlling anything, the omega voice could still put anyone at ease—omegas, betas, but especially Alphas.
Ian lightly head-butted Mickey’s belly. Mickey’s voice was so soft and comforting, like the pillows and blankets surrounding them. Ian was happy he was there and wasn’t going to run away again. He carefully detached his body from Mickey’s, his free hand quickly finding the omega’s so they could keep touching while he gathered himself.
A weight lifted from Mickey as Gallagher started to show signs of life again. Mickey let go of him reluctantly, but Gallagher didn’t stray far. Mickey’s eyes flickered down to their hands.
It was weird. Not bad weird, just unfamiliar. He’d never held anybody’s fucking hand until today. Not since he was seven and walking his little sister to school, waiting for the cars to stop so they could cross the road, Mickey throwing up a careless middle finger at anybody who honked impatiently at them.
And this wasn’t the first time the Alpha had done it tonight, either. Gallagher had grabbed his hand after his shithole brother had mind-whammied him, and Mickey had let him. Mickey wondered if it was because Ian had been trying to stop Mickey from escaping or…
Ian lifted Mickey’s hand to nuzzle his face against it, sighing. “Fuck. That sucked so bad. I didn’t know that’d happen.”
Ian was almost apologetic. It was embarrassing to seem weak in front of anyone, let alone an omega—his omega. What did Mickey think? He couldn’t take more rejection.
Mickey huffed a sweet noise that embarrassed him as soon as he let it out. Mickey wasn’t thinking about how weak Gallagher was. He mainly was thinking about what an unlucky fucking day the Alpha was having. To have chosen Mickey as his omega, of all people.
Hearing Gallagher’s confusion about what just happened ruined his certainty that Gallagher had just been mistaken.
“I didn’t either, man,” Mickey said, brushing his thumb along Gallagher’s short beard. His jaw was almost fully healed now. “I didn’t mean to…” It was his fault.
“You don’t like kissing?” Ian asked. He didn’t know a single omega that didn’t like it or didn’t want to be kissed. He was just trying to figure out why Mickey wasn’t into kissing him. “I don’t go around kissing everyone I hook up with. Usually, omegas beg me to… I… I just wanted to, though. You’re so gorgeous,” Ian told him, his eyes meeting Mickey’s. “You have perfect lips. Just wanted them on mine and to get on you again, too.”
Which was what Mickey had said he’d wanted. That was the only thing he wanted.
Ian sighed, his hand falling as he let Mickey continue touching him on his own. It was amazing that the pain was gone and that Mickey was doing something to him that didn’t hurt. The pain had been so overwhelming, but now he felt like a melted marshmallow.
Mickey continued his exploration of Gallagher’s jaw with his fingers, trying to concentrate on how it felt and how the Alpha was leaning into his touch and not on what Gallagher was saying; otherwise, his nerves would take the fuck off again.
He’d been hoping Gallagher wouldn’t bring it up and would let the kissing thing go, but Mickey should have known the Alpha was the type to want to talk things out. Just Gallagher complimenting him and talking about his lips had Mickey breaking their eye contact as soon as it connected, suddenly all too aware of his lips and Gallagher’s lips and what would happen if they—
Mickey dropped his gaze, realizing he’d been staring right at Gallagher’s mouth.
He knew how other omegas were, how much they needed the affectionate stuff, but Mickey wasn’t one of those omegas. He couldn’t be one of those omegas. He didn’t know how the fuck to do it. He’d fucking suck at it, so it was better to just stay the hell away from all that romantic shit.
But Gallagher wanted it.
“We ain’t gotta kiss if you really aren’t into that,” Ian continued, taking Mickey’s silence for what he thought it was: a boundary he had to respect. “I won’t ask you or try again if that’s what you want.”
“I don’t know, man,” Mickey said. It was a vague deflection, but it was the truth. He didn’t know what he wanted, didn’t know if he liked it, and his omega wouldn’t let him shove it off the table for some reason. “It’s just… uh, a lot. For right now. I dunno if I’m…”
Ready.
God, this was fucking weird. Dangerously close to talking about feelings, which was not a thing that happened in Mickey’s life. Ever. Mickey dropped his hand to Gallagher’s arm, not wanting to let go of him entirely but feeling skittish as fuck.
“I know,” Ian responded. He was so sure. Mickey’s indecisiveness was unsettling. Ian knew exactly what he wanted and needed.
Fuck, he couldn’t believe he’d given this omega his knot. It had felt right. He’d do it again, too.
Maybe Mickey’s instincts about him were off because of his suppressants. Ian didn’t know what to do to convince him—if he should or even could. When this was over, maybe he’d play hard to get and let Mickey figure out what he was missing.
…Oh, who the hell was he kidding? It was obviously going to fuck with him more than Mickey. Maybe he’d consider a rut suppressant if his rut was going to make him this much of a bitch.
Ian looked at Mickey’s small hand on his arm. He was wearing Ian’s sweater again. “You can have the hoodie. It looks real good on you.”
Ian knew whether or not the omega admitted it, it’d be comforting to him when they weren’t together. Besides that, Ian wanted him to stay scented.
Mickey bit his lip. He got the feeling Gallagher would compliment him even if he was wearing a fucking paper bag—if that paper bag had been in the Alpha’s closet, anyway.
Ian ducked his head into the crook of Mickey’s neck and nuzzled him, slowly rubbing up and down the hoodie’s sleeves to mark them with his scent, too.
Mickey fought off a smile, closing his eyes and tilting his head just a little. It felt good. Gallagher’s scent was like a sweet drug, and the skittish feeling faded. Gallagher was so fucking touchy. Mickey knew what he was doing—rubbing his scent all over Mickey and the sweater. Mickey should have been shrugging him off, but his omega was inviting it, soaking it up and telling him he wanted more, wanted to be claimed for real. He was usually better at denying his instincts.
“I’ll take the hoodie, but you can keep the sex pants.” Mickey’s hand clenched briefly at his side before he brought it up, ruffling Gallagher’s hair lightly, playfully. It stayed there after. He couldn’t resist. He’d been itching to touch the Alpha’s hair since he first saw it, and it was just as soft as he’d imagined.
Ian loved having his hair played with. He was on the verge of rumbling. He pushed into the touch and almost chased after Mickey’s hand.
Mickey let go after a second too long had passed, a smile unfolding on his face. “Speakin’ of, wanna go again?”
Fuck, that was smooth. Not as cocky as he’d intended, almost hesitant instead. Mickey wasn’t sure if Gallagher was still planning on taking him home, and his omega told him he’d be an idiot to assume Gallagher would give him what he needed after what had just happened.
Ian chuckled at Mickey’s blunt question. He nodded. “Uh, yeah.” He followed his statement up with a soft grin. “That’s why I brought it up in the kitchen. Wanted you again so bad... I thought we’d get back around to it eventually, but now is good.”
Fuck, if Ian didn’t wanna lean in and kiss his smiling lips. They were so tempting and pink. Instead, he pushed Mickey back to sit on his ass and reached for the hem of the hoodie, pulling it up slowly.
“I want to taste you this time,” Ian told Mickey. He pulled the fabric over Mickey’s head and tossed it behind them.
Mickey’s pulse jumped. Not many Alphas were into giving head. They found it too unassertive, not in their nature. He’d only ever been blown by a couple, mostly omegas.
Ian moved to take off the jeans. “Jesus, I don’t know how you got these buttoned,” he teased, opening them so he could unzip them. He scooted back and grabbed the ankles since that was the only place there was any excess fabric, pulling them off in one go with a swift, hard tug.
“You know you could’ve borrowed some underwear.” Ian grinned again, looking at Mickey’s naked body. It was impossible not to grin like an idiot over it. “Glad you didn’t.”
Gallagher’s running commentary as he undressed him was fucking ridiculous. Cute. Mickey tried not to laugh and failed, covering his eyes with his palms. He wasn’t used to all this fucking attention. He shivered a bit, not because he was cold, and lowered his hands when he felt the Alpha settle between his legs. Mickey propped them up in a vee and watched, eyes dilating as their gazes met.
Gallagher’s grip was smooth, with no calluses. He was damn pretty for an Alpha. His features were almost omega, especially those rosy lips and doe eyes.
Mickey’s cock looked so inviting, like Ian’s mouth was the perfect home for it. He had neglected it earlier, but he’d make up for that now. Ian licked over the head, eyes flicking up before he closed his mouth around it, taking it in.
Mickey groaned softly, biting his bottom lip. He felt a wave of heat roll over him simultaneously, turning the groan into a moan as his hole went slick and his cock got hard. His hand found Gallagher’s hair again, sinking into its silkiness.
Mickey tasted salty-sweet. Ian hummed around him in appreciation. He wasn’t going to make Mickey come. Ian wanted to make Mickey wet so he could taste his slick. When he got all of Mickey’s cock in his mouth, he gripped Mickey’s thighs and started bobbing his head, soaking him in his saliva and leaving a deeply scented trail. Ian moaned around him, knowing it felt good, especially when Mickey’s moan mirrored his.
He could feel Mickey thrusting up, so Ian let him fuck up into his mouth while he reached down to check. He didn’t even get to Mickey’s ass before he felt it. Slick.
Not only was Gallagher good with his mouth and looked sexy as fuck with his lips stretched around Mickey’s cock, but he was letting Mickey fuck his mouth and was taking it better than anybody Mickey had been with before, Alpha or omega. Not too porny, Gallagher actually seemed like he was enjoying it just as much as Mickey, and his omega liked that the most—that he was pleasing his Alpha.
Mickey had memories of his favourite blow, a night he sometimes took out of his spank bank, but this would replace it. The only way it could be better was if Gallagher shoved a toy up his—
“No,” Mickey protested weakly when Gallagher pulled his mouth off him. Mickey’s stomach clenched, and he made a noise of confusion as Gallagher lifted his hips. He was so fucking close. “Why are you—?”
Ian didn’t waste any time after getting a good look at Mickey’s leaking ass. He buried his face in it a second later and opened his mouth to lick up all the slick he could. It tasted sugary sweet, like candy, and Ian couldn’t get enough. He moaned as he felt his face getting saturated with it.
“Fuck!” Mickey whined.
That was Gallagher’s tongue. Where no tongue had ever fucking been before. That was what Gallagher meant when he said he wanted to taste him? Not his come. Mickey’s cheeks burned as he gushed more slick right against Gallagher’s face, helpless to it.
Ian groaned at the onslaught and pulled Mickey’s cheeks further apart, wanting more, ravenous for him.
“Holy fuck, Gallagher,” Mickey whimpered, and then when he felt the Alpha push his tongue inside, “Ian.”
Hearing his name was the icing on the fucking cake. Ian loved hearing it because it meant he was pleasing his omega, making him feel good. It made him work harder and press his tongue deeper, fucking it in and out. He sucked down all of the slick he could. It got all over his face. It rolled down his chin and neck, soaking his shirt.
Mickey pinched the tip of his cock and clenched around Gallagher’s tongue, trying not to come. He couldn’t hold onto control. His omega was—Ian was—making him react like a wild thing. He felt like he was losing his goddamn mind. His world was zeroed down to what Gallagher was doing.
He’d never felt quite as much like a slut as he did right now, with an Alpha’s tongue up his ass, and he didn’t give a shit. He fuckin’ wanted it. Fuckin’ loved it.
Ian knew that he couldn’t keep it up. He’d probably drown. He had to breathe, so he pulled up, face a complete mess. “Fuck.” He panted, smirking. Proud of himself for going down on his omega so well he’d gotten him to cry out his name.
Mickey moaned when Gallagher resurfaced, but he was so close to coming again that his legs shook, so it was probably fucking good that he’d stopped.
Ian started tearing his clothes off. “Gotta get in you now.”
Mickey sat up, feeling more slick leaking into the nest. Gallagher was covered in it, and Mickey’s omega purred its approval internally. Mickey couldn’t agree more. Gallagher had to get in him now.
Mickey moved forward and helped Gallagher with his pants, pulling his cock out and taking that impressive length in his hand. Then he let go and turned around, dropping to his elbows and presenting shamelessly. “Get the fuck in me, then.”
Ian wasn’t sure how things would go—if Mickey would fight him for control again. It had been fun, and ultimately he’d won, but he was so surprised when Mickey just rolled right the fuck over. Ian’s eyes glazed over at the sight. Mickey’s big, beautiful ass was in the air for him, looking so inviting and more than ready.
Jesus. Ian was ready, too. His cock was leaking, knot so swollen it hurt.
Ian moved behind Mickey, touching him, gently cupping, then rubbing his left cheek as he lined up. Squeezing it as he started to push in, Ian audibly gasped as he was met with Mickey’s tight warmth, enveloping him in pure pleasure.
He bared down. Mickey had taken him earlier, but Ian didn’t want to hurt him. He entered him gradually. Ian tried to savor it but knew he wouldn’t last long.
While part of Mickey wanted to tell Gallagher to hurry the fuck up, his omega was basking in the way his Alpha was touching him, that alien gentleness making it feel intensified and sweet. Gallagher knew how to handle him and what his omega wanted. Mickey could do nothing but pant quietly as Gallagher pushed inside, so slowly Mickey’s eyes watered from it.
Once he was in far enough, Ian grabbed Mickey’s other cheek, looking down as he disappeared inside. “Most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” Ian told him, just barely keeping his Alpha voice at bay. “Wish you could see how good you take me.”
Mickey was sure if he could, he would tell Gallagher he could take a picture of his ass and hang it on his wall because there was no way he could let the Alpha get away with that corny line. Most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, psh. But he didn’t, entirely focused on their bodies, on his Alpha seated fully inside him and the mental image of what his Alpha was seeing.
Mickey let out a hitched whimper when Gallagher pulled back and moaned when he started pumping in and out. “God, fuck, yeah,” Mickey breathed, tilting his hips up with every tap and gasping as his Alpha hit his mark. “Yeah, yeah…”
They lasted maybe two minutes before Mickey started tightening up around Gallagher. He reached down to grab his cock and stop himself from coming, but his omega had other ideas, ignoring it entirely and reaching for Gallagher’s hand on his hip instead, covering it with his own to tell him he was ready for his knot.
It wasn’t enough for Mickey to just touch him. Was that gesture to let Ian know that it was his knot that the omega wanted? Ian wasn’t going to give it to him yet. Mickey could wait. Ian wanted to hear him ask him for it. He wanted to be begged and to hear his name again.
Ian liked that Mickey was touching his hand, though. Was that becoming their thing? Since he had been taking Mickey’s hand before, it’d be super cute if Mickey started doing it back. Ian’s head was swimming with the sappiest shit, even balls deep.
Ian shifted and brought them down onto their sides. He moved his hand underneath Mickey’s and laced their fingers together as he threaded a leg between Mickey’s for even more leverage. He could sense what Mickey wanted. Since they were so close, his thrusts were short but brutal.
Mickey huffed with exertion, pinned half on his side, half on his stomach. He squeezed Gallagher’s hand hard instead of struggling or letting go because it was the only thing keeping him from going over the edge (never mind that warm, glowy shit he was feeling in his stomach). He wasn’t going to come until he got Gallagher’s fucking knot, and the Alpha knew it.
“What do you want me to do?” Ian asked, damn near breathless. Mickey was squeezing him so tightly. He was sure it was exactly what he wanted to do, too, but it was Ian’s turn to torture Mickey. In the best way possible, of course.
Gallagher’s thrusts were still hitting his sweet, achy spot faster and harder because they were so close. Making Mickey whine like a bitch, he couldn’t shut the fuck up. His omega liked the breathless tone to his Alpha’s voice, that he was giving him a real fuck. He could smell it, could smell how close his Alpha was. But Mickey wasn’t totally gone yet. “To fucking tap dance,” he snapped.
Ian chuckled huskily, begrudgingly, before the rest of his breath was knocked out of him because Mickey shoved his ass back, grinding on him hard and not letting him move.
Mickey bit his lip, swallowing more whimpery noises that wanted to come out as the head of Gallagher’s cock rubbed right against the place inside him that made his eyes roll up. “You know what I fuckin’ want.”
Ian’s omega could be so fucking pissy. It actually wasn’t even funny. It was ridiculous. Mickey still refused to tell Ian what he wanted to hear, and now Mickey had it so he couldn’t move. His knot throbbed against Mickey’s entrance.
Mickey was tough, but Ian was smart. He pried his hand away from Mickey’s and quickly wrapped it around Mickey’s cock. He squeezed it, grinning at the effect that had on him, sounds and all.
Mickey yelped, not fast enough to stop him. He was so hard and leaking that it hurt. He put his fingers on Gallagher’s wrist, wanting to pull it away, but when the Alpha stroked him, he could only hold on, clutching at him.
Ian pressed his face into Mickey’s neck and licked a stripe up his neck, stopping just below his ear. “You know what I wanna hear, so say it, Mickey. What do you... want and... who do you fuckin’.... want it from?” Ian trailed off, opening his mouth to scrape his teeth against Mickey’s neck, threatening to bite.
Mickey made a wounded noise, both at the use of his name and because it was that one zone that drove his omega fuckin’ crazy. He pushed the side of his face into the nest, closing his eyes and shuddering against Gallagher.
He couldn’t give in. It was all his omega wanted him to do, to beg like a bitch, to submit like a bitch. He couldn’t.
“Your knot, you... fucking... Alpha fuck!”
Ian pulled back from Mickey’s neck and growled, completely fed the fuck up with him. “That’s not my fucking name!”
While he was mad at Mickey for being the little omega prick he was, Ian simultaneously felt like he was going to fucking combust. He couldn’t just stop fucking him and not give him his knot after he’d already done it once. He’d demolished his own hard rule about not knotting, and he was cursing himself now.
It only bothered Ian because he knew how good it felt and how much Mickey loved it. His knot would explode if he didn’t get it inside his omega. Ian had had enough of this nice I like you, half-cuddle fuck bullshit. Mickey clearly wasn’t having it either.
Fine, Ian thought viciously. He ripped his hand away from Mickey’s dick and bared down on him so he was flat on his stomach, then popped his knot inside him. Ian’s orgasm ripped through his body, making him quiver as he gushed his seed relentlessly into Mickey.
Mickey’s stomach churned at Gallagher’s reaction, and his eyes scrunched tighter. It was just as good as the first time, just as fucking intense, and Mickey’s orgasm chased right after the Alpha’s, making him contract and moan and spill onto the nest.
But his omega wanted to whimper because he’d disappointed his Alpha. He’d insulted, disrespected, denied, and rejected him.
Ian leaned down and bit the back of Mickey’s neck, masking his moans and not giving Mickey the satisfaction of pleasing him.
Mickey held in his noises, too. Maybe now Gallagher would finally stop being so fucking nice to him, stop fucking complimenting him, and start treating him how he deserved to be treated. Like the competition, like another Alpha.
He’d already told Gallagher he was no good. He wasn’t the omega Gallagher wanted.
Mickey’s panting slowed as Gallagher finally finished coming. His neck was hot and tingling where Gallagher had bitten him.
Ian pulled his teeth out of Mickey’s neck. He felt completely drained. He’d given Mickey all he had to give. It had been a long and very eventful day. Ian shifted them back onto their sides. He didn’t want to lay on top of Mickey but couldn’t pull out until his knot deflated. They were locked together.
Ian was glad Mickey couldn’t see him. He didn’t feel happy, so he didn’t look it. He was tired and somewhat defeated. A weird feeling of listlessness overcame him now that the sex was over. He’d never felt like this before and had never been in so much pain, especially not over an omega.
It was the rejection that was getting to him the most. He’d been rejected before—by his mom. All of his siblings had felt rejected when she’d left them. Mickey wasn’t changing his tune. Not that Ian was trying to get him to. Everything he was doing and saying was incredibly instinctual. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever be the same.
His soulmate, an omega in an Alpha disguise, didn’t want to be his. It wasn’t like Mickey had even been that interested before, but Ian had always thought he’d end up with an omega—the stupid, hopeful part of him that believed in soulmates and dreamed of a big family with a gaggle of pups running around.
Ian nuzzled the back of Mickey’s neck, letting his eyes flutter shut as the sound of Mickey’s breathing lulled him to sleep.
ΩA
When Mickey woke up, he knew his heat had ended. He was warm but not feverish, and his body felt more like it did after a long night at the club when he finally got to take his scent blockers off—not a needy, writhing mess with a Come Fuck Me sign on his ass. He also felt like he’d gotten a decent amount of sleep for once.
Mickey shifted slightly, breath catching with a sleepy groan. Gallagher’s cock was still inside him, all nine inches, even though his knot had deflated hours ago. There was a weight slung over his side—Gallagher’s arm—and soft breath on the back of his neck, the rise and fall of a chest against his bare spine. A big paw of a hand was resting protectively on his belly, fingers splayed wide across it.
Safe, Mickey’s omega told him. Home. Mine. Mate.
Mickey swallowed, opening his eyes. He ignored his urge to whine as he pulled away from the Alpha, carefully removing Gallagher’s arm and letting him slip out of his ass. It didn’t feel good. He felt jarringly empty without him. The back of his neck prickled, sore. Mickey sat up, inhaling quietly but sharply.
Mickey looked at the Alpha, still asleep but with a frown on his face. Mickey’s omega wanted to smooth it away, to lay back down and wrap himself around his Alpha, to nuzzle into his neck and give him affection he didn’t know how to give.
Mickey looked away instead, grabbing his clothes from the nest and putting them on.
Once he was dressed, his eyes strayed to the Alpha—not his Alpha—again. He needed to go home. Back to the South Side, back to his responsibilities. Away from this fantasy land. Away from an Alpha who wasn’t meant for him but for a different, better omega.
Mickey took Gallagher’s sweater as he left.
Notes:
Oh look, more angst and smut! 😜
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Chapter 6: You’re My Soulmate, Idiot!
Chapter Text
Ian woke to his teeth chattering. The apartment was freezing and dead silent. He didn’t have to open his eyes to know. He couldn’t feel him anymore. Mickey’s warmth was gone.
That didn’t stop Ian from getting up quickly and calling Mickey’s name. He checked every room in the penthouse before finally giving up when he reached the kitchen and saw Mickey’s car keys were missing. At least he hadn't fled out the window this time, but it was devastating that Mickey hadn't woken him to tell him he was leaving.
How could his omega have hurt him again? Ian hadn't been holding him prisoner. He would’ve understood if Mickey needed or wanted to go. He'd told Ian he wanted to stay, though, which was even more confusing. Why had he gone?
Ian grabbed his phone and saw three missed calls and a single text. Unfortunately, they all were from his brother. He opened the text.
You’re not coming …into the office, that is, are you?
Ian looked at the clock on his stove. It was almost two in the afternoon. He rolled his eyes and tapped out a reply. Obviously not.
Scrolling down to Mickey’s name, Ian double-checked that the omega hadn’t texted him before sending one of his own.
You didn’t let me know you were leaving. That’s okay. I understand you probably had to get back to your life. You can come back anytime. Just let me know... I really enjoyed our time together. Hopefully we can hang out again soon.
Ian stared at his phone for what felt like an eternity, willing Mickey’s response to come and cure the ache in his heart.
It never did.
It wasn’t like Ian didn’t know where to find Mickey. Devastation turned into bitterness, which he coped with by overworking. He didn’t go back to the club. He couldn’t even bring himself to watch the video for Joey. He spent his time running in the morning, and when he got home from work, he tried to focus on anything but the omega who had instantly stolen and broken his heart.
Everyone in his family could tell something was wrong. Ian didn’t talk about it or even tell Lip. It was far too embarrassing to be uttered out loud. It was only when Joey showed up at his office three weeks later inquiring about his case that Ian knew he had to do something.
He pulled up the video for them, letting it play and letting Joey watch it. Ian took screenshots of the perp. It ended up being the seedy-looking motherfucker Mickey thought it was who had brought Joey up to the room.
They could go after him, even though he hadn't been the only one who had assaulted Joey. Joey wanted to press charges, but they couldn’t do that until they had a name. Ian would have to return to the club with the screenshots and try to obtain that so Joey could take it to the police.
Directly after he got home from work, Ian changed into a nice polo and, as Mickey had so aptly named them, his sex pants. Maybe it was on purpose, or maybe he wanted to fit in more at the club.
Ian solicited Lip to come with him to DNA so he didn’t do anything stupid like try to pursue Mickey. It didn’t take much convincing. Lip agreed after Ian promised him free drinks, and the possibility of getting some hot omega ass probably helped too.
After arriving with Lip in toe, Ian decided to bypass Mickey altogether. Mickey had told him about his sister, Mandy, a few times. She worked in the admin office and was an omega. Ian usually had a way with omegas. He had a way with Mickey, too, but Mickey was denying his instincts and refused to let Ian in—in any way except inside him.
Ian stopped and asked one of the bouncers where the office was, and once he was directed, he motioned for Lip to follow. When he entered the room, a beautiful girl was at the desk with long black hair, bright blue eyes and dark red lipstick that made her pouty lips stand out. Fuck, she was the girl version of Mickey.
Her eyebrows raised. They didn’t get a greeting.
Ian put on the charm and smiled at her. “Hi, Mandy? I’m Ian Gallagher. This is my brother, Lip.” He glanced at Lip, who had a funny look on his face. “I was in the club a couple of weeks ago working on a case, and your brother, Mickey, referred you to me. Said you might have some info on a patron that reserved a room three weeks ago.” Ian pulled up one of the screenshots on his phone. “Do you remember this man? Know who he is?"
ΩA
Leaving Gallagher wasn’t as easy as Mickey wanted it to be.
Mickey put his keys in the car and sat with his hands on the wheel for a full five minutes before he started it and left the parking lot. The name of Gallagher's building and address were burned in his memory. The entire drive home, he felt like he was doing something wrong—like he was making a mistake.
His omega, who wanted to stay, was tugging him in the opposite direction. He almost turned around twice. He could just go back and tell Gallagher he got locked out going for a smoke, and... and what?
Mickey knew it was fucking hopeless, that he was fucking hopeless, and he couldn't do it. He couldn't be Gallagher's omega, couldn't have an Alpha, couldn’t be an omega. It would never work. It was too much, too fast, and he had to cut the cord before it could become anything more.
Mickey's expression hardened as he cranked the volume on his radio and pressed his foot on the gas, tires squealing. He felt the resistance as if he were trying to drive against a wall.
When he got back to his apartment, the first thing he did was take a long shower. He scrubbed himself hard until his skin was raw and red. By the time he was done, no trace of Gallagher's scent was left on him, and he felt even worse.
His stomach hurt. Not as bad as when he’d rejected Gallagher, but he had an unpleasant ache. It wasn't getting stronger or weaker, but it wouldn't disappear. His omega just wanted to crawl right into bed and sleep it off, but there were things he needed to do.
Mickey contacted his dealers, made some money transfers, placed his orders, and put all his Alpha armor back on. Scent blockers, new suppressants, scent spray—everything except his silencers. Those would have to wait.
The familiar discomfort of his armor, the muting of his senses, was comforting. It finally stopped feeling like he was walking around naked with nothing to protect him. Though, he hadn't felt like that with Gallagher. Naked, yeah, but not... unsafe.
It didn't matter. It wasn't going to happen again, and he wasn't going to see the Alpha again.
The last thing Mickey had to do was take the AfterHeat pill. He had bought a bottle years ago, just in case something bad happened. He stared at the pink and blue capsule in his palm, his other hand slowly clenching into a fist over his belly.
He didn’t know why he didn’t throw it back immediately or why his body filled with dread when he finally downed it with a glass of water and a wince. It wasn’t like he wanted to have pups, or like he could have them without getting murdered, or like he was in any fucking position in life to consider it. What the fuck was wrong with him?
He threw up about twenty minutes later, nauseous with horrible cramping, his eyes tearing pathetically. He didn’t see the pill in the toilet, so that had probably been long enough for it to dissolve. He felt like shit, so it had to have worked.
Mickey didn't see the text until much later, his phone left forgotten in the DNA staff room. When he showed up at the club that night, his twin was the first person he ran into.
She held up his phone and wiggled it at him, giving him a strange look. “Forget something?”
There was a text open on the screen, and Mickey's heart was suddenly beating too hard when he saw it was from Gallagher. Mandy turned the screen away from him to look at it herself. Mickey should have expected she'd snoop while it was unattended. Fucking nosy, as always, but they were twins. There weren't many secrets between them, except the biggest one of all.
“Who's Red? Also, you fucking owe me. I covered for you for Dad. That means you buy me dinner and cover my shift the next time I need it.”
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever, bitch. Ain't like I never covered for you before either,” agreed Mickey with a forced smile that turned more genuine as he looked at her. They both knew he would’ve been in the fucking doghouse if he missed the deliveries. “I’ll get you that egg foo hung from that Chinese place you like.”
“It’s egg foo yung, idiot.” Mandy smirked and raised her eyebrows when he went to snatch his phone back, pulling it out of his reach. “Nuh-uh. Not until you tell me who this Red guy is. I didn’t know you were seeing someone.”
There was an off note in her tone, and Mickey sighed. “I’m not. He’s nobody. Just an omega that got too fuckin' clingy after a one-night thing.” The lie tasted sour on his tongue. “Now, can I please have my fuckin' phone back?” Mickey held out his hand.
Mandy frowned at him, losing her playful air and shrugging. “Too bad. I thought he sounded nice.” She handed it to him, and Mickey took it and locked it, putting it in his pocket. Mandy added wryly, “Probably too nice for you anyway.”
Mickey gave her the finger and left, but she was right.
He only read the text once he was alone again. He was nervous about opening it, but maybe he shouldn’t have been. Gallagher actually… wanted to see him again? Mickey chewed on his lower lip and read the message a few more times in disbelief. His finger hovered over the response bar.
Even after Mickey had ghosted him, even after he’d done all those bad things, Gallagher still wanted him to come back? His omega was ready to go over there right now, wanted to go to his Alpha, to see him and wrap his arms arou—
Mickey locked his phone and pressed his knuckles to his forehead hard, smacking them against it.
ΩA
As the days dragged on and replies to the message were started and then trashed, never going anywhere, Mickey finally broke and took Gallagher's sweater out of the drawer he'd shoved it in. He started wearing it to bed every night. It made the ache in his stomach shrink to nearly nothing.
When he breathed in the Alpha’s scent, memories of them together hit him. Gallagher’s knot, his laugh, his smell. His weird omega quirks. The way they’d fucked. The way Gallagher had tried to kiss him.
Mickey wondered what would have happened if he hadn’t stopped it. He wondered what would happen if he just left right now and showed up at Gallagher's building.
By morning, he shut those thoughts down and pretended he hadn’t had them.
Nobody noticed anything different about Mickey except maybe Mandy and Veronica, who both told him he was crankier than usual, but Mickey was quick to brush them off. Other than that, it was business as usual. The business always had problems, but at least they were problems Mickey knew exactly how to sort out, unlike his personal ones.
He was returning from a job on the other end of the city and decided to grab dinner from Mandy’s favourite Chinese place on the way back. As promised, he did owe her.
Mickey came in through the office's back door with the grease-patched brown bag clutched in his fist, eyes down on his phone as he scrolled through it. “Ay, got your usual. Made sure Kung Fu Panda didn’t forget the wontons this time.”
“He probably wouldn't ‘forget’ them if you weren't such an ass to him,” said Mandy. “Thanks, though.”
Mickey dropped the bag on Mandy’s desk just as the scent of two Alphas hit him. His spine stiffened when he realized Mandy wasn’t alone. It wasn't uncommon; there were always people in the office. This time, though, it was alongside a sharper smell, but he’d recognize that scent anywhere.
Ian smelled that familiar rancid smell he absolutely despised before he heard Mickey talk. Kung Fu Panda, what the fuck? That was unnecessarily racist. His voice made Ian’s jaw clench because his heart ached with yearning for his omega, but that scent triggered his gag reflex. Damn it.
Ian was wearing the pants for him, hoping he’d run into Mickey despite the original effort to avoid him... He fucking missed him, and he knew that Mickey would see them on him. Maybe he’d regret what he had done and feel jealous over the attention Ian would garner.
If Mickey got close enough to Ian, he could probably still smell himself. The scent of another omega would keep most omegas at bay. He hadn’t washed the jeans since Mickey had worn them, and he hadn’t washed the pillowcase of the pillow Mickey had rested his head on either. That one was the one he felt like smothering himself with sometimes when he didn’t see the point of living after his mate had rejected him.
Mickey looked up, eyes landing right on Gallagher's. The pure ice in his expression had Mickey's omega shrinking back, but Mickey didn't move.
Ian’s eyes narrowed. Mickey looked like a deer in headlights, surprised to see him, but that only lasted a split second. Ian was sure he was the only one who noticed, but his expression didn’t soften.
Mandy continued, unconcerned, “Mick, this guy says he knows you?”
Mickey's saw the picture Gallagher was holding out for her. And Gallagher's brother, standing behind him with his expression twisted up in confused disgust, nose still faintly yellow from the right hook Mickey had landed.
The case. That was why they were here.
Mickey schooled his expression and shrugged casually, even though his heart was in his throat. “Yeah, it's alright. Give him what he wants. He's lookin' for the guys who attacked that omega I told you about.”
“Shit,” Mandy said, folding an arm across her stomach guardedly and frowning. “Okay. Let me think. Can I look at this for a minute?” she asked Gallagher, waiting until he handed her his phone so she could study the picture. She looked up briefly at Gallagher, longer at Lip, and then back down at the photo again. “I want you to nail these fucking assholes for what they did.”
Mandy’s body language and tone were revealing. It was obvious to Ian that she had been hurt, too. Her words had the passion of a survivor behind them. Even though Ian had already planned on going after them, Mandy boosted his determination. She was really making him wish he had stopped by sooner. Something about her put him at ease. She was nice and more than willing to help.
Mickey’s jaw clenched. He knew the subject hit close to home for his sister, but he wasn't thinking about her right now. Couldn't. Hyperaware that the Alpha he’d spent his heat with, who had declared him his, was standing in this room less than a few feet away. The cat could be let out of the bag any second. All it would take was for one of them to use their Alpha voice on him. Gallagher wouldn't. But Lip...
Mickey shot him a dark look, remembering how his body had gone paralyzed, how his mind had shut down, completely out of his control. Lip raised an eyebrow in response. Asshole.
Gallagher's brother had better be smart enough to keep his fuckin' mouth shut, Mickey thought. About what happened, about what he knew, about everything.
“What the fuck kind of name is Lip, by the way?” Mandy asked, mouth curling slightly as she pinched her fingers on the screen.
Gallagher's brother chuckled, smiling in a way that made his eyes bug.
“I'm gonna go make some coffee,” Mickey muttered, moving away from her desk and down the hall to the counter with the coffee pot and sink, needing to do something.
He filled the pot with water and started adding the grounds, keeping his eyes on what he was doing and not over his shoulder at the three of them. Still, Mickey noticed Gallagher was wearing his sex pants. Was he planning on getting laid tonight? Was he going on a fucking date later? Did he have a new omega waiting for him already?
Well, good. Fucking… good.
Ian noticed Mandy’s attention floundering to Lip after Mickey had excused himself. He might as well have been chopped liver.
“It’s Phillip. Lip is a nickname,” his brother explained.
“It’s perfect for him since he’s always talking shit. That’s the only reason why he’s a decent lawyer.” Ian grinned as his brother scoffed at him. “Where’s the lie?” he asked with a laugh.
“I think it was achieving summa cum laude in law school that determined my success.”
Oh, God. Ian rolled his eyes. Lip used any excuse to bring that up and hold it over him. His brother was the only reason he’d passed the bar. It wasn’t fair that the other Alpha was book-smart.
Mickey pretended not to listen to the conversation in the other room. He was still thinking about those fucking tight pants Gallagher was wearing and Gallagher using them to attract omegas.
“Think I could use some coffee, too. Let me know if you find a name,” Ian said, taking the first chance he could to confront Mickey. He left Lip with Mandy, hearing laughter as he left the room. Mandy was asking about the cum part.
Ian didn’t know what he was doing, but he was being pulled by forces he didn’t understand. He walked down the hall, where he could see Mickey standing. He felt his heart rate accelerate the closer he got to him. He approached Mickey slowly, moving to lean against the counter beside him while he finished preparing the coffee.
Mickey tensed when Gallagher came up behind him, switching to breathing through his mouth to avoid his scent. His entire body wanted to turn like he was a fucking plant, and Gallagher was the sun. Mickey gave the coffee an unnecessary amount of focus as it percolated. The air felt thick, the only sound Mandy’s laughter and the burbling of the pot.
It was hard for Ian to find the words, but eventually, he spoke quietly so only Mickey could hear. “You never responded.” Ian was offended and hurt that he hadn’t heard from the omega. “Didn’t I do a good enough job taking care of you?”
Mickey’s brow furrowed at the vulnerable question. He hadn’t meant to make Gallagher feel like he wasn’t a worthy Alpha. It was exactly the opposite.
“It ain't you, alright?” Mickey replied just as quietly, glancing up briefly to meet Gallagher’s eyes again. Jesus, why did that sound like he was using a breakup line? “I’m just not lookin’ for anything serious.”
It was the truth. Mickey didn’t know why it felt like a lie. Although, out of all his useless, unsent replies to the Alpha, none of them sounded like that. “I’m not what you’re lookin’ for.”
Mickey couldn't say the M-word. Gallagher wanted that. Wanted a mate. Mickey could tell. But he wasn't and never would be mate material. He wasn’t even fucking boyfriend material. The sooner Gallagher realized that, the better.
Ian knew that it wasn’t him, kind of. He had issues with being abandoned, and Mickey had left, betrayed and hurt him. He had been perfect. He’d done everything he was supposed to do. He’d praised Mickey like every omega he’d ever been with had wanted. He had been respectful and hadn’t gotten angry or used his Alpha voice.
He knew that it was Mickey. Mickey was denying his biology. Mickey was actively choosing to hurt him over and over again.
Ian shook his head in disbelief, furrowing his brow at Mickey’s words. “I wasn’t even looking for you.” That was true. Ian wasn’t looking for a mate. Mickey was assuming shit. “You think if I wanted a mate, I would already fuckin’ have one? You have no fucking idea… You… you’re not a choice, Mickey. I didn’t fucking choose you.”
You’re my soulmate, idiot!
Mickey grabbed a mug from the cupboard and filled it, coffee sloshing from the pot as he jerked it back into the holder. That was good to know. Not a choice. He wasn't a choice. So what, Gallagher felt forced to go after him because of his Alpha? Ha, no. Fuck that. He still had a fucking choice. He didn't have to be here.
“You could’ve responded. You could’ve woken me up and told me you wanted to go. I wasn’t trying to mate you. I wasn’t holding you captive. You told me you wanted to stay… You could’ve shown me the same decency that I showed you. I respected you. I never hurt you, and I know you’re truly not that awful.”
“You don't know shit about me except for my fucking name and what I do for a livin',” Mickey said, taking a sip from his mug. It burned the roof of his mouth and his tongue.
Gallagher wouldn't like what he saw if he did. He wouldn’t be talking to him now if he knew all of what Mickey had done in his life. Gallagher was wrong. He was more than fucking awful, and not just because of how he'd hit it and run.
“Look, I'm sorry for leaving without telling you. I–” Mickey's hand tightened around his mug as he fought the memory of how hard it had been to drive away. Beneath his panic, how much his omega had wanted to be back in the nest with Gallagher. Mickey's expression hardened. “I thought not responding would give you the hint. It's better this way. So why don't you find yourself a pretty little omega who'll treat you right and leave me the fuck alone? Or don't. I don't give a fuck what you do. When I told you I wanted to stay, it was my fucking heat talking, not me.”
Mickey continued to be an asshole about absolutely everything—like he was sparing Ian’s feelings by leaving? He couldn’t control the physically paralyzing pain he’d felt when Mickey had rejected his kiss. If Mickey wasn’t fucking his, that wouldn’t have happened. He wouldn’t have gone into rut, and Mickey wouldn’t have gone into an early heat. He was being incredibly dense.
“You left because you’re a coward. You’re pretending because you hate yourself. Those two things sum you up completely. Your heat isn’t what hurt me, and it isn’t what healed me. That was all you, omega.”
Mickey smiled razor-sharp and dangerous because he felt about two seconds away from punching Gallagher square in his fat fucking mouth. He clenched his fist open and closed, crushing his jumpy reaction at the rise in Gallagher's voice and the presence of his sister and Gallagher's brother just a room away and turning it into anger instead.
Ian was done with this—done getting shit on by Mickey. He didn’t care? Really? He’d see about that. Mickey had challenged him, and this time, the challenge would be met. “You really want me to try that? Find another omega? This so happens to be the most perfect place to do that, huh? Hope you enjoy the process of me finding multiple omegas, all while you observe it from your office. Enjoy the fuck out of that.”
Ian didn’t wait for a response. He walked away. He had to get away from Mickey. His skin burned as he followed the hallway out and into the club. He headed right for the bar to get that signature drink. He’d need it to put on a show.
Mickey sneered. Yeah, Mickey wanted Gallagher to fucking do it. Only he wasn't going to watch Gallagher's little show. He wasn’t going to give Gallagher the payback he clearly wanted. Seeing it wouldn't fucking hurt him.
Mickey didn't calm down after the door closed. His breath went shallow and fast, and his senses sped into overdrive, his vision tunnelling dark. He could hear Gallagher walking away. With every step, he could feel himself losing it. His stomach felt like it was packed to the brim with stabbing knives and acid. His body was hot all over. The Alpha's words circled in his head, again and again, taunting him and getting louder.
Mickey threw his mug at the wall. It shattered. He didn't care.
Mandy ran into the room, eyes widening as she took in the shower of glass and the coffee soaking into the carpet, Lip on her heels. “Mickey, what the fuck?” She paused and stepped closer when he refused to meet her gaze, looking at him askance. “You smell weird. What the hell happened?”
“Nothing.” It was practically a growl.
“Okay…” Mandy exchanged a look with Lip.
“Where's Ian?” This time from Lip.
Mickey didn't respond.
Mandy stepped back from him, confusion turning to irritation. “Jesus, do you have to fight with every fucking Alpha that comes in here? Go chill the fuck out before you pop a fucking blood vessel. Your face is all red. I'll get the vacuum and clean this up.”
Mickey didn't need to be told twice, leaving the office and slamming the door behind him. The music blared in his ears and offered him no relief. It didn't even drown out his thoughts. Mickey sank into a shadowy corner of the club and leaned back against the wall, eyes scanning the crowd. They stopped.
There he was, leaning over the bar and sipping on a drink. The glare of a spotlight hit it. Mickey's favorite drink. Gallagher's ass looked fucking incredible in his fucking jeans. Fuck him. Mickey's nostrils flared as a twinky-looking guy in a fucking see-through fishnet top put his hand on Gallagher's arm and said something to him.
He wasn't gonna. He wasn't gonna.
ΩA
Up until now, Ian had had hope. Even though it had been three weeks and radio silence, he’d still hoped that Mickey would come around. Especially seeing him tonight, Mickey wouldn’t be able to deny that they really were meant to be together, but no. That wasn’t how it went at all. Of course not.
His skin felt like it was on fire. Everything hurt. When he tasted the drink again, it started to soothe him. Two sips in, he felt a hand touch his arm, getting his attention. He had hoped, again, that it was Mickey but knew it wasn’t before he even looked.
Seeing the mesh shirt made Ian’s lips turn up slightly. A twink would do. The guy had stopped him to compliment his jeans. Ian wanted to laugh but bit his lip.
He knew what he had to do, what he wanted to do, which wasn’t find another omega but make his asshole of an omega jealous.
“I like your shirt, too.” Ian downed his drink. “Wanna dance?”
When he said yes, Ian grabbed his hand and led the way.
He swore he could feel Mickey’s eyes on him. Ian looked around and couldn’t see him, but he felt him. Whenever Mickey was close, he could feel it. His eyes widened slightly as the twink twirled around for him, almost like a ballerina, then pressed back against him as he moved to the song's beat. Ian started to move, too, letting go of the omega’s hand so he could hold his hips.
While it felt wrong, giving Mickey a taste of his own medicine also felt good.
ΩA
Mickey watched them like a hawk. He couldn’t take his eyes away. Gallagher had the omega’s hand, was leading him out onto the dance floor and looking around. Looking for him? Or just looking for a place to dance.
The other omega was prancing around like a fucking faerie, pressing up against Gallagher, graceful and dirty. He caught the attention of several other Alphas around them with his display.
That omega was nothing like Mickey—the exact opposite of him. But Gallagher was watching, too, taking him by the hips and dancing with him. He looked interested. Mickey growled, his chest vibrating with it.
They were touching. A lot. Mickey banged his fist against the wall, holding himself back by pressing his shoulders against the wall hard. His omega was boiling with jealousy.
He pictured himself charging over there, snarling and yanking the omega forward by his stupid nipple-showing shirt and throwing him off Gallagher. How good that would fucking feel? Taking the omega’s place and rubbing himself all over Gallagher, marking him possessively with his scent and sinking his teeth into that neck. He wanted to mark his territory.
Mickey had literally pushed Gallagher into that fucking omega. He wasn’t supposed to care. He wasn’t supposed to feel this. And he wasn’t a fucking coward. Gallagher didn’t know shit about what he would go through, what he’d already gone through, how fucking hard it was.
Gallagher had it easy. His life was a fucking cakewalk. He was an Alpha who could do whatever the fuck he wanted and...
The omega was pushing his ass back against Gallagher, right into Gallagher, right onto that cock. Mickey let out another frustrated growl, startling a nearby omega, and banged his fist against the wall again. This time, he felt it give, drywall cracking under his knuckles. Mine!
ΩA
Ian could sense eyes on the omega. His own were trained on him, too. Watching him was hypnotic. He really must’ve been a dancer. He was athletic, maybe too athletic to be an exotic dancer. Ian wasn’t sure. He was moving dirtily, and they were pressed close enough that they were practically fucking.
Except Ian wasn’t enjoying the dry humping. He felt bad. It felt like he was betraying his omega and cheating on him, but they weren’t even together. They weren’t mated. Ian didn’t owe Mickey anything, but he didn’t want to take things any further.
Thank God, the song ended, but when Ian moved back, the omega turned around to face him, stepping closer, closing the distance Ian had put between him. “You’re such a good dancer. Your cock feels so fucking good against me,” he breathed, brown eyes dropping down to Ian’s crotch and then moving back up to his face, his arms moving around Ian’s shoulders as a slower song started.
A pained expression formed on Ian’s face when the nameless omega leaned in to nuzzle his neck, scenting him.
ΩA
Mickey was so close to launching himself over there, so fucking riled up, so close to going over and fighting for what his omega wanted—and then the song changed to something slow, and everything went warped.
The omega turned around and gave Gallagher a seductive smile, said something to him, and wrapped his arms around him. Leaned in and did the most intimate thing an omega could do. Mickey stared at the back of Gallagher's head. Since the Alpha was turned away from him, he couldn't see his face.
Time seemed to go in slow motion. The chant of mine mine mine in Mickey's head was worse than the fucking seagulls in Finding Nemo, but Gallagher had taken his advice, had gone and found another omega, had given him a show he'd enjoy just like the Alpha had wanted.
Finally, the omega pulled back from Gallagher's neck. He tilted his head coyly, offering his own neck up in invitation. Mickey finally closed his eyes. All the anger slowly drained from his body.
It was stupid—he knew he had no right to feel hurt. He'd practically shoved Gallagher away and had done everything possible to ensure this exact result.
Mickey unfurled his fist, feeling something warm and wet dripping from his fingertips, a dull, pounding pain radiating from his knuckles. The blood wasn't from that omega's pretty face, which was a fucking pity. Mickey hung his head and waited as his visions of going over there and fucking the omega up, of claiming Gallagher as his, slowly dissolved.
He didn't want to watch Gallagher scent the omega back, but his body wouldn't let him run away this time. He had to take it.
ΩA
Ian felt like his entire body was on fire after the omega was done scenting him. That had hurt like hell. He yanked himself away from the omega as his skin broke out into large, angry welts all over. Was he allergic? Something about this omega’s scent made Ian’s skin want to jump off his body. He had to get it off now.
“Why did you do that? I didn’t say you could do that!” he growled, scaring him and the omegas around them with his Alpha voice.
The omega cowered and apologized profusely, but Ian had already bolted, trying to find the bathroom.
The last thing Mickey was expecting was to hear Gallagher's Alpha voice. Even across the room, it was clear as a fucking bell. Unease rippled through the crowd, and the scent of scared omega hit Mickey's nose. But more potent than that, Gallagher's scent was coming towards him, and something was wrong with it.
Instead of finding the bathroom, Ian found Mickey. Of course, his Alpha would lead him straight to his omega. The irony was uncanny. This was his omega. He could fix Ian's angry skin. "Mick..."
Mickey lifted his head. He couldn't see much in the darkness but could tell Gallagher was hurt. Mickey moved off the wall and reached out, grabbing the Alpha's arm with his uninjured hand and pulling him closer. When he felt Gallagher's blistered, broken skin, his anger returned with a vengeance. What the fuck did that omega do?
Ian wanted to apologize. Mickey had seen everything. He looked down in shame, and that was when he saw Mickey’s bloody knuckles. “Mickey, you’re bleeding.” Ian frowned.
Mickey wiped his bloody hand off on his jeans. “It's okay. What fuckin’ happened to you?” His omega was pulsing with the need to heal him. Mickey couldn't let him stay this way—smell this way. “Come with me.”
Ian was relieved that Mickey wasn’t angry. “He fucking scented me. After one dance! I didn’t even get his name. I can’t believe he thought I wanted that.” Ian scrunched up his face in disgust. “I yelled at him.”
Ian still felt guilty about that. He didn’t use his Alpha voice often, and it had been really effective, but he shouldn’t have been dancing with anyone anyway.
Mickey gritted his teeth and tugged Gallagher through the shadows until they reached the men's rooms, pushing open the Alpha one.
“It hurt. I think I’m allergic to his omega. Serves me right,” Ian mumbled, following behind Mickey like a puppy.
An Alpha was taking a piss at the urinals, and one of the stalls was locked, a pair of shoes and a pair of knees visible under them. Mickey didn't give a shit, kicking open the stall and startling the couple. “Get the fuck out!” he barked, waiting with a menacing look until they pulled up their pants and scattered.
The other Alpha took his sweet time finishing his piss, giving them a look and muttering as he left. Mickey shut the door behind him and used his skeleton key to lock the door, ignoring the banging on it from Alphas who wanted to get in.
Ian turned on the sink and looked at himself in the mirror. Damn, if he wasn’t looking like a boiled lobster. It looked worse than it felt. He grabbed some soap and started to scrub. “I shouldn’t have done that. It was so disrespectful. I’m sorry, Mickey. I should’ve just left us alone. I only came back because of Joey. I was avoiding the case after you ghosted me, but he came into the office today. Wants to press charges, but we still don’t know who that guy is...”
Mickey watched Gallagher’s face from his reflection. He thought that was what Gallagher had wanted, too, for that omega to scent him and to scent him back. It loosened something in Mickey’s chest, hearing his reaction.
Ian sighed, giving up because the water and soap weren’t providing any relief. After turning the faucet off, he turned to look at Mickey with a miserable expression.
Mickey was glad Gallagher had yelled at that omega. Glad he’d used his fucking Alpha voice. He was just mad at that fucking omega and was considering having the guy banned from his fucking club. “It’s alright.” Mickey dropped his gaze. “Get why you did it.”
He swallowed. Ian was opening up to him. Mickey couldn’t pretend he didn’t care anymore, not after seeing the Alpha with another omega.
“Didn’t wanna ghost ya. Wanted to see you again, but I can’t be an omega. Can’t be out. That’s why I never spent a heat with anyone before. Why I only hook up. Fuck, I been like an Alpha so long I’m practically a fuckin’ hybrid.” Mickey sighed. It sounded like an excuse. Gallagher wouldn’t understand. “I panicked, man. But I should have at least said goodbye. I didn’t wanna hurt you.” But he had.
Ian shook his head. “Wasn’t expecting you to come out. I thought that was clear... I don’t give a fuck that you’re doing what you’re doing. Even if I did, you wouldn’t change a fucking thing.” Ian couldn’t control Mickey. Well, technically, he could, but he didn’t want to. He liked omegas who had free will. He also knew Mickey had his reasons—they were legit and good reasons—but unlike Mickey, Ian wasn’t controlling his biology. “You’re calling yourself a hybrid. Technically, not true, but honestly? The Alpha aspects of you are really hot. I like them. I’m not denying you don’t have them, but you’re condensing both Alphas and omegas to their stereotypes—stereotypes that I fight against every day for a living.”
“It doesn’t have to be serious," Ian continued. "You could spend your heats with me. I’ll help you. It’s not like I’m dying to settle down. We had fun… More than fun.”
Ian knew that Mickey would never be okay with being an omega. He couldn’t function in his business or family without everyone thinking he was an Alpha. Ian didn’t have a choice. All the cards were in Mickey’s lap.
Mickey was skeptical. No Alpha wanted to be with an omega they couldn’t brag about and couldn’t show off. Gallagher obviously gave a fuck, or he wouldn’t sound so annoyed about it. This whole thing between them, and this conversation, was already getting convoluted.
Gallagher didn’t want something serious, but he’d called Mickey his at his fuckin’ penthouse, he’d practically gone fucking paralyzed when Mickey had rejected his kiss, and he’d made him a goddamn nest. That all sounded like an Alpha who had his sights set. Gallagher’s Alpha wanted him for keeps, even if Ian didn’t. And Mickey’s omega...
Mickey’s omega wanted him back. That pain in his stomach, he’d never felt that before. Maybe he feared what would happen if he let his omega get too close to Ian more than the other way around.
“I’m on suppressants," he reminded Gallagher. "Don’t get heats, remember? The last time was a fluke. I got a new batch.”
Ian grumbled lowly. He hated suppressants. They could wreak so much havoc on an omega’s body in general, but if they weren’t good quality, that could lead to much, much worse.
“But if you wanna just fuck for fun, no strings attached...” Mickey shrugged. Moved closer. His heart was pounding again. Ian’s skin looked like it hurt like a bitch. “I can try and heal ya if you want. Save you a trip to the clinic.”
“Please.” Ian gestured towards his neck. He needed Mickey.
Mickey’s firm expression broke a little at the plea. This damn sweetheart was gonna kill him. He placed his hand on Ian’s neck, tuning out the club noise to focus entirely on the Alpha. He could feel it as it started to work before he saw a difference, energy seeping from his skin to Ian’s, repairing the damage and pulling the heat from Ian’s skin into his own. With healing, an omega got to take the pain away, but it took something from the omega to use it. Energy, mostly.
“How’s that feel?” Mickey took his hand away. His omega was satisfied with what he saw and how the Alpha’s scent had changed. “Looks better.”
But Mickey wanted to do more, to get rid of it all, so no trace of that fucking omega’s scent was left. He wanted to scent Ian himself.
He didn’t use his healing a lot, not with the other person aware he was healing them. He’d healed Mandy and his brothers before but always did it in tiny increments so they wouldn’t notice. Doling it out with a back slap or a brotherly punch. It felt weirdly satisfying to let his full ability out.
Ian’s grumble became a soft rumble. Even after a few seconds, he started feeling better. Mickey's touch made him warm and fuzzy, eyes softening and looking more doe-like. “Feels better, thank you.”
Mickey chuckled. Shit, Gallagher was fuckin’ cute. He could admit it. His omega liked the sound of a happy Alpha.
Ian knew he still didn’t smell right. He wanted to smell like Mickey again. “I still reek, though. I wanna smell like you."
Mickey’s omega puffed up like a proud peacock, but he managed not to let it show. “You wouldn’t like it right now, man.”
He couldn’t scent Ian the way he was, not with his scent blockers and pheromone spray on. Ian would just end up smelling like his artificial A.
“Would you still make slick for me? Don’t suppressants stop that too?” Ian had actively been craving Mickey’s slick since he’d first tasted it. “You could come home with me tonight if you want,” he added nonchalantly. “Think suppressants would actually stop you from whining for my knot?” Ian smirked.
Mickey was right. Ian didn’t want to smell the way he did currently, but if he came to his apartment, they could bathe together.
“I don’t whine,” Mickey shot back, putting his hand on Gallagher’s chest when he tried to lean into Mickey's space, backing him up against the sink and looking up at him, their noses nearly touching. He had a sudden, vivid memory of Ian’s tongue buried in his ass as he ate him out and flushed. “Don’t make slick either, but I’ll still make your knot fuckin’ pop.” Mickey smirked back, sharklike. He was up for that challenge. “I don’t get off till two. Got some errands to run.”
All Ian could do was grin. He was far from threatened. He enjoyed Mickey using his strength, and the omega liked to dominate him. The closeness made Ian want to kiss him again, but since he’d been burnt, he wasn’t going to try that again. Since their noses were practically touching, though, Ian leaned in a little and nuzzled his nose right against Mickey’s. “There’s no doubt that you could still do that...”
Mickey's smirk melted off, and his eyes widened. He couldn't believe Gallagher had just fucking nuzzled him. Eskimo kissing motherfucker.
“Until two, huh?" Ian said, laughing at Mickey's expression. "Then errands? That’s not a very good excuse!”
Mickey recovered as Gallagher pulled away. It wasn't an excuse. "It ain't an—"
“Especially since you’re the boss, what’s stopping you from leaving for the night with me since you’re in charge?” Ian asked, raising his eyebrows before slipping out of Mickey’s hip hold and moving to unlock the door. Ian was going to get Lip and scram, figuring it would be better to be at home the next time the omega rejected him. He still hoped Mickey would show up. “You can stop by my place when you’re done here. And bring the lube, bitch!”
“Ay, just cause I'm the fuckin' boss don't mean I can just fuck off whenever I want,” Mickey said, turning around, but he was talking to thin air because the Alpha had already disappeared. Smartass.
Mickey scowled and rubbed the tip of his nose, looking at his reflection. His cheeks were fucking red. It was a lie, anyway. He was the boss in that he looked after mostly everything Veronica didn’t, including their VIPs, but he still reported back to his dad, who flayed Mickey's ass when something went awry. Like hell he was telling Gallagher that, though.
Mickey turned on the tap, splashed his face with water, and then cleaned up his bloody knuckles, mind nowhere else but on the Alpha. Mickey dried his hands and left the restroom as people started to push their way back in.
When he returned to the office, Mandy and Lip were nowhere to be seen, and neither was Ian. Instead, one of their other employees was manning the desk. When Mickey talked to her, she said Mandy had asked her to take her shift.
Mickey really hoped his sister wasn't off screwing that fucking knothole. He’d heard the way they’d flirted earlier. Mickey would kill him if he hurt her and then resurrect him and kill him the fuck again.
Mickey left the club, texting her to make sure she was okay. At the same time, he saw a notification from the A4A app, which raised his eyebrows.
New Message (16)!
He hadn't checked it in a long time. Not since his night with Gallagher.
Mickey dismissed the notification and pursed his lips. He waited until he got a text back from Mandy that was purposefully vague as hell but confirmed she was fine before getting in his car and going to the warehouse to meet up with Jamie and Tony.
Notes:
🔺Mickey takes the omega equivalent of a morning-after pill and has some thoughts about pregnancy/pups. It's brief, but If you'd like to skip that part, you can stop reading at "The last thing Mickey had to do was take the AfterHeat pill." and start reading again at "Mickey didn't see the text until much later, his phone left forgotten in the DNA staff room."
Chapter Text
Ian ran into Lip and Mandy on his way out of DNA.
“Have you seen Mickey?” Mandy asked him.
Ian nodded. “Yeah. He’s cooled down now. It was just a misunderstanding. We worked it out. He had some errands to run, so he left.”
A certain appreciation entered her eyes as she sized him up. She smirked. "Mickey's way of 'working things out' usually ends in black eyes. Don’t know how you managed to calm him down.”
“Well, now that that’s sorted, don’t suppose I could borrow your car?” Lip asked, interrupting Ian before he could respond. “Pretty sure the Chinese food Mickey got was spat in. We’re gonna go get some sushi instead.”
Mandy's scent noticeably sweetened as she twirled a lock of hair around her finger.
Ian glanced at his brother. He was skeptical. Lip was a total player, and Mandy seemed nice, not to mention she was Mickey’s sister. Ian didn’t even know her—not that he knew Mickey well either—but she was important to his omega, so she was important to him, too. “Yeah, of course, but come here for a second. Got something to tell you.” Ian pulled Lip out of earshot and spoke lowly to him, “Mandy doesn’t know about Mickey, okay? No one knows he's an omega, so keep your mouth shut about that. Mickey is my soulmate. Don’t fuck this up for me."
“Oh, yeah? Still sticking to that story, huh.” Lip gave him a look and flared his nostrils in a pointed sniff. “If you’re soulmates, why do you smell like common club skank and not that horrendous stink of his?”
Ian rolled his eyes. “I tried to make him jealous." Lip laughed at him, and Ian sighed. "Look, I’m going home to wash it off. Just... don’t be yourself. Be nice to Mandy. Don’t fucking hurt her,” he warned.
He withheld his keys until Lip huffed in agreement and nodded. Then, Ian headed for the exit, fishing out his phone to request an Uber.
ΩA
By the time Ian got home, it had clouded over and was sprinkling outside.
He immediately stripped down naked. He didn’t want the scent of that other omega on him for another second. Instead of throwing his clothes into the wash, Ian decided to huck them straight into the fireplace. He didn’t want anyone other than Mickey, so he didn’t need the sex pants anymore. (Not that he needed them at all. He was more than capable of getting laid without them.) Ian lit the fire and then headed upstairs to shower.
His mind swam with thoughts of Mickey as he scrubbed his neck until it was pink, then the rest of his body, making sure there would be absolutely no trace of the other omega. Ian reached for his cock after he finished scrubbing, tilting his head back into the scalding hot spray.
Thinking about fucking Mickey for more than thirty seconds usually gave him the worst hard-on. He couldn’t get complete relief anymore. He’d come, and that would feel good, but his knot would throb and hurt like hell. He wasn’t willing enough to buy a sex toy to pop his knot into. He figured nothing would be better than the real thing. He was just ruined and needed Mickey to be satisfied now.
Thoughts of Mickey on his knees, deepthroating him and taking his knot in his mouth while he looked up at Ian with those icy blue eyes finished him off. It was good, but not satisfying. Pleasurable but painful because it wasn’t real. Ian hissed as he waited for his knot to go down.
Once it did, Ian dried off and changed into a pair of sweats and a comfortable shirt. Ian grabbed his laptop from his office so he could work downstairs on the couch.
Writing was a large part of his job. It was actually the majority of his day-to-day work. He hadn’t gotten much done since his meeting with Joey. Time got away from him as he drafted a couple of different legal documents and did research for various clients.
ΩA
When the clock struck one, Mickey had another set of bloody knuckles and was ready to call it quits.
Jamie and Tony could handle the rest of the job. They were fucking idiots, but at least they were capable of bashing skulls when needed. Mickey left them to clean up the mess and got in his car again, slamming the door.
It started raining as he made his way to Gallagher's, turning the roads into puddles. Mickey turned on his windshield wipers and sped off.
He hadn't had dinner, having left before he could partake in any of that foo hung, so he stopped by his favourite pizza joint and grabbed a large Meat Lovers pie to go. His omega felt weird about going to the Alpha's place empty-handed, so he figured he could share.
He also checked his glove compartment and grabbed a few packets of lube he’d stashed there for emergencies. Then he paused, considered, and grabbed another handful, shoving them in his pocket.
The rain was pelting down hard when he got to Ian's building. Mickey ran to the door and stepped forward, leaning on the buzzer. “Yo, Alpha! Pizza delivery!”
Mickey stood back, hot pizza box balanced on his palm and cigarette drooping from the corner of his mouth. He shivered a bit as the rain started to soak him, but his heart was beating warm.
He wasn't sure why he was starting to feel nervous or why his stomach was erupting with butterflies as he thought about what was about to go down. It wasn’t like this was the first time he'd be fucking Gallagher. Not even the second time. It was just a fucking booty call. The fanciest fucking location for a booty call he'd ever been to, but still.
ΩA
The last time Ian looked at the clock, it was around midnight. He was startled, his brain going into hyperdrive when he heard Mickey’s voice over the intercom.
He’d never gotten up so quickly from his couch. He nearly dropped his laptop on the floor but caught it right before it hit it. Ian closed it and sat it on the coffee table while he tried to compose himself.
Knew he would come, Ian thought to himself, to calm his nerves as he went to the door. He only just stopped himself from running.
Mickey was just starting to wonder if Gallagher was sleeping or purposefully not answering the door when it opened, and Mickey was hit with warm air, warm light, and pure, untouched Alpha scent.
Ian had been so busy working that the crackling of the fire had drowned out the noise. He didn’t realize a torrential downpour was occurring outside until he saw Mickey, hair plastered to his forehead and dripping.
“‘I didn’t order a pizza,’ said every porno actor ever.” Ian took the pizza from Mickey with a grin and stepped back so the omega could come in.
Mickey smelled a little worse if that was even possible, but he looked fucking good. Cute, too, like a little wet rabbit when he smiled back.
Mickey walked in, glad to be out of the rain. More than the pizza, Ian's scent made his mouth water and his head swim pleasantly. Shit, Gallagher smelled good. Free of other omega, especially that fishy slut from the club. Mickey's omega wanted to fuckin' pounce on him right there.
Mickey looked down and held his dead cigarette between his teeth as he laughed instead. “Yeah. Next time, I'll be comin' over to fix the sink, right?”
Mickey looked around, spotting a closed laptop, some papers, and a coffee mug in the living room. All the lights were on, even though it was nearing two.
“Uh-huh. Need a light?” Ian sat the pizza on the island, pulled one out of the drawer, and handed it to Mickey. “Thanks for this. Totally forgot to eat. After I showered, I was catching up on some work. Got a little lost in it.”
Mickey lit up as Ian opened the cupboards in the kitchen, holding the flame over the damp end and sucking a few times to try and get it going. It finally caught, and Mickey pulled in his first lungful, nicotine hitting his bloodstream and taming some of those pesky butterflies. It was nice and warm in the penthouse, but it made his wet clothes feel even fucking colder.
He noticed Ian was out of his sex pants and into a pair of grey sweats that hung low on his hips. They were a universe away from the powerfully sharp lines of his suit or the clingy sexiness of the clothes he'd been wearing earlier. Mickey’s omega liked this relaxed version of the Alpha for some reason, though all looks had their appeal.
Ian set two plates down and watched Mickey smoke his cigarette, noticing then how both sets of his knuckles were all beaten up. “What happened to your other hand?” he asked, concerned. The question probably should have been who happened to your hand?
“Got into a little disagreement with a guy about somethin',” Mickey said, shrugging as he puffed.
One of their dealers thought taking more than his agreed profit share that month would be a smart idea, and Mickey had caught the variance in the balance. He wouldn't be working for them anymore.
'Course, Mickey couldn't say that to Ian. It was better he thought Mickey was just a hothead. Which wasn't exactly untrue, he guessed.
“You a workaholic, Gallagher?” he asked, turning the subject back to him. Mickey's omega didn't like that the Alpha had neglected to eat. He did feel annoyingly happy that he was fixing that, though.
Ian hadn’t been accused of being a workaholic before. Most of the time, he was just trying to match his siblings. He wasn’t quite as bright or as fast as them, but the profession naturally required a lot of hours. He was pretty good at getting his work done during the day and rarely worked past eleven at night, and if he did, he was usually preparing for a big case the next day.
Ian had never minded work. He enjoyed every aspect of the job, including the quiet parts, like paperwork he could do at home, and the lively parts, like presenting in court. It was the best of both worlds. Ian didn’t have many complaints about his job, just about the law in general, but at least he was trying to do something about it.
“I wouldn’t say that I am,” Ian started to say, his stomach growling as soon as he got the box open. The pizza looked and smelled great, and he couldn’t wait. He took a piece straight from the box, not bothering with his plate. He took a big bite before continuing, “I don’t think so, but I really like to work. Having a purpose. Normally, I get everything done before I leave the office, but Joey came in, and I went to the club afterward, so I wasn’t able to.”
Mickey approached the counter and slid a couple slices onto his plate after Ian got his fill. The cheese was still gooey, and the sauce was hot, even after standing in the rain.
Ian turned to the fridge, finishing off everything but the crust before he turned around with drinks for them. He was out of beer but had some 7-Up, so he grabbed one for each of them and then picked up the box.
“Come into the living room. Let’s eat where it’s more comfortable.” Ian sat the box and his drink on the coffee table, pulling it closer to the couch. He took the blanket from the arm of the sofa and spread it out where they’d be sitting.
It wasn’t that Ian was particularly worried about stains—okay, he was, but he could see Mickey was a little damp, and it’d probably make him feel more comfortable to sit under the blanket anyway.
Mickey followed with his plate. Typically he would’ve done the same as Gallagher and just eaten from the box, but the rug alone probably cost more than his entire fucking apartment, and Mickey wasn’t going to chance it. Gallagher was clearly thinking the same thing.
The place was spotless, just like before. Mickey wondered if spilling something would bring out the Alpha side of Ian he’d yet to see. The anger and that controlling, punishing nature all Alphas had.
Mickey set the plate in his lap after he sat down and put the soda Ian gave him on the coffee table, dabbing his cigarette out in the ashtray.
“I got everything done that I needed to. I was just doing a little extra to pass the time... you know, while I was waiting for you,” Ian admitted, cracking open his soda. “Happy you came.” He flashed Mickey a small smile, pizza sauce tinting his lips darker.
“Haven’t come yet,” Mickey joked with a cheeky smile because he didn’t know what else to say to that, didn’t know what to do with Ian’s sincerity. He didn’t know why the Alpha thought he was worth waiting up for.
“Can’t wait,” Ian responded, licking his lips clean and grinning.
He really couldn’t. He didn’t know how he had gone three whole weeks without sex, but Mickey had satisfied him in a way that he’d never been before. Ian leaned back and sipped on his soda, letting the piece of pizza he’d inhaled in the kitchen settle in his stomach.
“Don’t think I’ve ever heard someone say they really like to work,” Mickey added, biting his lip around another smile.
Most people hated their jobs and just worked for the paycheck. ‘Course, if Mickey made as much money as Gallagher and lived in a fucking penthouse, maybe he’d like his job too. But something told Mickey it was more than just money for the Alpha. He sounded passionate about it.
“I know, I can’t relate to most people. I’m grateful to be in the position I’m in. If I didn’t like what I was doing, I don’t think I could do it.”
Ian didn’t like it when people complained about their jobs. He didn’t see the point in griping to his family—or anyone else, for that matter. He worked hard but was privileged in more ways than one, and he knew it. He didn’t do much complaining in general. He was pretty even-keeled and easy-going.
Mickey wiped his hands off on his pants after he finished his first slice, reaching for the soda. “Did you always wanna be a lawyer?”
He wondered if Ian had ever wanted to do something else or if, like Mickey, what he was doing was what his family wanted.
Ian tilted his head, looking Mickey over. “No, I didn’t want to be a lawyer. I didn’t want to be like Frank. Lip and Fiona did all the work. They built the law office. Frank just took the credit. He had one case that was the catalyst of his career. He’s known for it to this day.” Ian didn’t have any respect for Frank. He used dirty tactics and didn't care who got fucked over in the process. It was all about the money for him. “Lip and Fiona made me want to go into law. They helped me through school—Lip with the schoolwork, and Fiona gave me the money.”
Mickey leaned back against the couch, resting the cold soda can on his thigh. He was surprised to find himself hanging onto Ian's every word, wanting to know more. The warmth of the room, his scent, and his voice were like music to Mickey’s ears.
Ian ran his hand through his hair. “I’m not sure if you remember, but I told you I like to cook. I wanted to be a chef, but that’s not…”
Ian didn't finish the sentence, shrugging his shoulders. It was a stupid stereotype. Alphas weren't cooks, chefs or bakers. Omegas were.
Mickey had never met an Alpha like Gallagher—one who wanted to do omega things. Ian had really wanted that? To go to culinary school or some shit and become a chef? Did he still want that?
There weren’t many male Alphas in that industry. It was an omega's job, though Mickey knew omegas who cooked and fucking shouldn’t have, like his Aunt Rande. The memory of her beef surprise still made Mickey want to vomit. She called it that because, surprise, this ain’t beef!
“I remember.” Mickey nodded, ignoring how his omega was fizzing happily like a can of shaken soda at the memory. “Hell, man. I’d eat that steak you made again over this pizza, and this is my favourite fuckin’ pizza.”
“It’s really good. I see why it’s your favorite,” Ian responded, turning slightly pink at the praise, but he smiled too, happy to finally hear some. “I wish I could’ve made you more, something to go with it. Maybe a cheesy mash or I could’ve used the steak in a stir-fry. You’ll have to let me cook for you again sometime.”
Talking about food made Ian’s stomach grumble again, so he reached for another slice. “Lip and Fiona can cook. Maybe it's just growing up like we did, fending for ourselves, but I’m sure many Alphas can. We don't all have mates, and even when Alphas do, I’m sure it’s a shared responsibility, or Alphas like to cater to their omegas.”
Like I do.
There were healthy relationships out there. Even if Ian and Mickey hadn’t experienced them, they existed.
Mickey's expression turned. “Maybe in your world.” He bent the tab on his soda can until it fell in.
In Mickey's world, it was clear who the omega bitches were and who the top Alphas were. Some Alphas even kept their omegas collared and on leashes, for fuck's sake.
Sure, not around here. The high class had images to uphold. They were simply better at hiding it—shiny on the outside, animal on the inside.
Mickey didn't believe for a second there were such things as shared responsibilities or Alphas who respected their omegas and thought of them as equals, let alone catered to them like they were a higher status. Not male omegas, anyway. That was fairy tale bullshit, and Gallagher was naive if he thought differently.
He was... Mickey didn't know. A fucking anomaly. An anomaly who wanted to cook for him and who wanted to be a chef and... who fuckin' blushed when Mickey complimented him. Maybe he wasn't as nice as he seemed. That was the only thing that made sense. Mickey hadn't dug too deep.
By the look on Mickey’s face, Ian could tell that he thought Ian was full of shit or really fucking stupid. On the contrary, he was painfully aware of how poorly most Alphas thought of and treated omegas—especially male omegas.
He wanted to fight every Alpha abuser with his bare hands whenever he encountered one through his cases. Ruining their lives and draining their bank accounts was only slightly more satisfying.
Ian thought male omegas needed to be cherished because they were so precious and rare. They were his preference, and he adored the hell out of them. He wished everyone felt that way. He would do anything he could for them.
Ian realized there were only so many times he could tell Mickey he wasn’t like that and that all Alphas weren’t the same, just like omegas weren’t. He couldn’t tell him anymore. He had to show him. Ian decided not to comment.
Thunder boomed through the penthouse, making them jump. Mickey’s plate slid off his lap and hit the floor as lightning lit up the sky and flashed through all the windows like a fireworks display. He'd almost forgotten about the storm until then.
“Holy fuck,” Mickey said, trying to calm his racing heart as the lamps around them flickered and the thunder continued to rumble like an angry bear. “Sounds a lot louder up here. It always sound that loud?”
Ian had completely forgotten about the storm, too. It instantly heightened Ian’s senses. He could hear the omega’s rapid heartbeat and his shallow breaths. Mickey was scared, and Ian’s protective instinct flared.
Mickey leaned down to pick up the plate, but the power went out as he was grabbing it, and he felt a sharp sting pierce his finger where the edge had broken off. Mickey cursed, yanking his hand back and dropping it again. “Shit, I fuckin' broke it.”
Worse than that, he'd dropped his fuckin' pizza on the rug. Even with the lights out, he could see the outline of the dark stain. Mickey froze as he stared at it, his body growing cold as he braced for the resulting blow of anger. It looked like blood on the carpet, the light from the fire turning it darker. It was just pizza sauce. He had to be ready to run if Gallagher tried to use his Alpha voice.
“It’s okay,” Ian responded. Mickey’s noise of pain had caused his heart to skip a beat. Ian could smell his blood. He wasn’t concerned with the broken plate or the pizza stain. He had to take care of his omega. “Mick, c’mere, let me see.”
They had to let their eyes adjust to the firelight, but luckily they had that. Ian took Mickey’s hand, turning it over gently and giving it a look. “Don’t freak out,” Ian said softly.
Don’t freak out? Mickey wasn’t going to freak out... he thought Ian was going to freak out. What the fuck was happening? Instead of that intense bitterness Mickey associated with a pissed-off Alpha, Ian's scent was thickening with something almost sweet.
Ian pressed his mouth to the wound, knowing he could soothe it effectively instead of rushing to get Mickey a Band-Aid in the pitch dark.
Mickey made a noise but didn’t jerk away, holding still. He was effectively distracted by the sensation of Gallagher's soft lips on his skin. Soft, soft lips surrounded by prickly facial hair. Alphas didn't have healing in their saliva like omegas did. It didn't make sense. Mickey swallowed as warmth flooded his finger, and the cut stung less. It was still there, but Gallagher had calmed him down. His heart wasn’t racing anymore, and the blood wasn’t dripping. When Gallagher let go, Mickey blinked in confusion.
Ian pulled back and stood up. Protection instincts still in full throttle, he bent down and wrapped his arms around Mickey, lifting him and putting him back down in his own spot on the couch so the omega wouldn’t step on the glass.
“Ay!” Mickey squeaked, grasping the cushions. His stomach was somersaulting. Gallagher had just picked him up like he'd weighed nothing. Jesus Christ.
“Let’s go upstairs," Ian said. "I got another fireplace and candles in the bathroom. I’m sure the water still works. You can take your scent blockers off and take a bath if you want.”
Ian wanted that. He didn’t think he could keep being close to Mickey while he smelled artificial. He wanted Mickey to smell like his omega again.
Mickey felt like he was in the twilight zone. He stood up, following the Alpha. Another clap of thunder boomed, and Mickey’s nerves went haywire. He reached out instinctively, finding Ian’s hand in the darkness and grasping it. “Blind as a fuckin’ bat,” he muttered, feeling like a total fucking pussy but not wanting to let go. There was barely any light by the staircase, anyway. “Ain’t it like askin’ to be electrocuted takin’ a bath right now?”
Mickey knew why Ian wanted him to. He stank. Even he could tell his scent was worse from being out in the rain, like a wet fucking dog, and now it was sour with unease—but they were on the top floor of a tall building, and it was thundering and lightning like mad.
Being afraid of thunderstorms was pup-ish, and Mickey wasn’t a damn pup anymore, but he’d never been able to outgrow the fear altogether. It still made him jumpy—the noises, the lightning, the way the buildings shook. It’d always felt like impending doom to Mickey. Like the end of the fucking world was close by, and living alone heightened that.
They hadn’t had any nasty storms this summer until tonight, so of course, the biggest one had to happen while he was with the Alpha his omega wanted to impress.
“Yeah, you’re right, it wouldn’t be a good idea." Ian was just craving Mickey’s natural scent so much that he had to bring it up. He was grateful Mickey wasn’t upset that he didn’t like his current scent. He wasn’t meant to, though. "I was just hoping by the time we got upstairs, the storm would be over. No such luck,” Ian mumbled.
“Sorry about the mess, man,” Mickey said. His omega felt guilty as fuck. That stain probably wasn’t going to come out. “I’ll pay for it.” He’d find a way to, anyway. “Uh... you can have free drinks at DNA whenever ya want. Just put it on my tab.”
Ian liked holding Mickey’s hand. He gave it a protective squeeze before they entered his room, and he went to turn on the fireplace. “That’s crazy. You don’t have to pay for anything. It was just an accident. I’m sure my maid can get that stain out. It’s just pizza.”
Mickey's heartbeat steadied. Ian’s easygoing attitude about everything was so fucking strange. Mickey was still waiting for the catch.
“One time, an ink pen exploded on my office rug," Ian continued. "She got the stain out, but even if she can’t, I’ll just move the coffee table to hide it. Or buy a new rug. I’ve had that one for a while, and maybe a white one isn’t actually that practical, huh?”
“I mean, I would recommend somethin' with a little colour, anyway. Liven the place up. Maybe one of those orange shag rugs from the seventies.” Mickey raised his eyebrows, cautiously teasing. “That'd look nice.”
Ian liked the idea of a soft, furry rug—or maybe it was just the idea of Mickey naked on the rug, waiting for him to come home. In a world where Mickey was his omega, and they lived together. He never would’ve thought of such a bold color. He didn’t give his apartment much thought. It wasn’t something he cared about. He'd hired a designer to make it look nice. Maybe orange was Mickey’s favourite colour. He’d have to keep that in mind.
Ian chuckled and let go of Mickey’s hand to go to his dresser drawers, where he kept his pajamas. He pulled out a pair and passed them to Mickey. It rarely stormed for this long. He couldn’t even remember the last thunderstorm they'd had. “You can take your scent blockers off and change. That’ll help, and we can just chill, wait out the storm or pick things up in the morning.”
With the fireplace on, the storm seemed a lot less intimidating. “Okay,” Mickey agreed, biting his lip.
He couldn’t help but notice the nest Ian had made him was no longer there. Of course it wasn’t. Ian must have taken it apart a long time ago. Mickey’s stomach clenched, aching a little, but he had no right to feel any way about it.
Mickey put his damp clothes and phone on Ian's dresser, fighting a whine as he was enveloped in Ian’s scent again. He hadn't planned on staying the night or even staying more than an hour, and he definitely hadn't planned on sharing a bed like newlymates. This visit was only supposed to be a pizza and a bang, but the storm had changed things.
Mickey didn't want to go out in the storm. He didn't feel like going home at all. (Why did it feel like he was already there?) Wearing Ian's scent even through his pajamas was more comforting than a fucking hug, and it was so much stronger than it was in Ian’s hoodie that Mickey had overused.
Ian smiled as he moved to his bed, pulling the covers back for them and getting in himself. It was getting pretty late, and he’d been up for a long time. He settled against the headboard. He loved how Mickey looked in his room, stripping down in the firelight. It spoiled him, making him wish this was what he had every night.
Mickey turned around. The bed, the warm fire, and the equally warm Alpha. He tugged on the sweatpants strings to tighten the waist. “I’m gonna use the bathroom,” he said, feeling weak in the knees from Alpha's serene smile. It was almost like he was in heat again, and everything had a soft, fuzzy edge. Mickey smiled back at Ian, feeling it grow on his face like a fucking knotsick dumbass.
He entered the bathroom and closed the door three-quarters of the way so he could still see with the fire's light. He peeled off his scent blockers with a sigh, tossing them in the small garbage can in the corner. He rubbed his irritated skin until it dissipated, and his natural scent started to come through. Fuck, that felt good.
If Ian were only attracted to omegas, it wouldn't surprise Mickey if he didn't want to fuck until Mickey smelled like omega again. His omega was kinda flattered, honestly. Mickey had never been with an Alpha who wanted the scent of his omega. He'd only been with Alphas who’d liked his artificial Alpha.
Mickey felt for the tap and turned on the sink to quickly wash his face. He used the soap by the faucet and washed his neck, scrubbing at his scent glands until they didn't itch anymore and the artificial scent was gone. Mickey dried himself with one of Ian's towels and returned to the bedroom.
Ian could smell Mickey’s scent the second the first scent blocker came off. Inhaling Mickey’s scent again put him at ease. He loved it, and it wouldn’t make his skin crawl, boil or burn. He heard the water running, and then that wonderful scent got even stronger, clearing the stench but damn near making Ian hallucinate the perfect life he hadn't even known he wanted. He snapped out of it slightly when Mickey re-entered the room.
Another resounding clap of thunder was all it took for Mickey to get into bed with Ian. He even got under the covers. Although his omega wanted to lie down and huddle up to the Alpha for comfort, Mickey stayed where he was, hands twitching on his thighs. Ian looked beat, and Mickey felt just as beat. Mickey reclined against the headboard slightly, angling his body towards Ian. He could only see the shape of his face in the low light. “Did you like that omega at the club?” he asked, the question coming out without his permission.
Ian's brows knitted together. “No, not at all. I like you.”
Mickey blinked and looked down at the sheets, his omega flaring with pleasure. It gave him a head rush. He hadn't expected that answer. Sure, Ian's Alpha had reacted fucking horribly to the omega at DNA, but he'd thought for sure that was the kind of male omega Gallagher would prefer over him. But Ian hadn't liked it, hadn't enjoyed it at all, hadn't liked that omega at all. Mickey's omega was fucking reeling.
Ian didn’t even have to think about the answer. He especially hadn’t liked being scented. Every fibre of his being had rejected that omega. “Felt wrong dancing with him… Not just what happened. That was bad in itself. I didn’t enjoy it. I knew it hurt you. I was mad at you for leaving, but I knew you had to eventually.”
Ian sighed. He didn't want to think about it. Mickey was there now, and he wanted to enjoy it, so he moved closer, breathing Mickey in from his scent gland.
Mickey tilted his head, offering his neck to the Alpha before he realized what he was doing. He wasn't in heat anymore. He didn't need Ian to scent him to make him feel safe or claimed, but his omega wanted it. The clothes weren't enough. It wanted the real thing again, the real scent, not the watered-down version.
“Would you dance with me at the club as an Alpha?” Ian asked. Because Mickey sure as hell wouldn’t as an omega, but he wanted to know if they could still be around each other there. Maybe they could be in a relationship if he kept Mickey’s secret.
It took Mickey a while to respond to the question. “Dancing's kinda overrated,” he finally said, words catching slightly when he felt Ian's breath puffing near his scent gland. “When ya spend as much time in nightclubs as I do.” Not that he spent much time dancing. He only ever attracted omegas. And he didn't dance with Alphas. “DNA ain't that kinda club, either.”
The South Side had a pretty intense hatred for double A’s. Nobody wanted to see two Alphas knockin' their knots together. Maybe that opinion didn't reach everywhere since there was acceptance in Northalsted and a couple of other places, but in Mickey's neighbourhood, it was looked on with disgust. ‘Course, the same couldn't be said for double o's. Omega couples were like crack to Alphas. It was a fucking double standard Mickey had never understood but went along with because not going along with shit got you hurt or worse.
Still, Mickey wasn't some celibate angel. He'd imagined what it'd be like to dance with an Alpha, even what it'd be like to dance with an Alpha as an omega, and now his traitorous mind was picturing himself in that other omega's place, with Ian behind him, grinding against him and marking him with his scent. Mickey's body temperature spiked, and he exhaled sharply from his nostrils. “Can think of funner things we can do together. Maybe even in my 'office', now I know you got a thing for it.”
Ian felt like he was getting high off Mickey’s scent. His endorphins were going crazy as he tried to focus on what Mickey was saying. The Alpha was pleased just hearing his omega’s voice and excited to be this close to him again. He wasn’t surprised that Mickey didn’t dance. Hell, he didn’t kiss either. “Hey, come on! I don’t have a thing for it.” Ian laughed. “I like to dance, and I’d like people to see us. They’d die of jealousy and wish they were us. We’re so hot.”
While Ian would enjoy any time they had together, especially alone, he also wanted people to see him with his gorgeous omega. Whether or not people knew he was an omega, Ian didn’t care, just as long as Mickey was his. Ian’s arm made its way around Mickey’s middle. He started nuzzling Mickey’s neck, taking in Mickey’s scent while laying his own down onto him.
Mickey snorted—or he would've if he weren't trying to stop a weird feeling in his chest from rising as the Alpha held him and showered him with affection. He felt like he was being wrapped in a warm blanket. That was what Ian's scent did to him. Affection wasn't normal or natural to Mickey, but his omega fucking loved it. Instead of clamming up and pushing Gallagher away, he found himself doing the opposite and melting into it.
“You totally got a thing for it,” Mickey said, grinning too.
It didn't surprise him that Ian liked to dance. Or that he wanted to make others jealous. That was an Alpha thing.
“It’d be hot if people could see us. We can see everything from your office, but if they could look up and see us, me knot deep inside you...” Ian grinned filthily against Mickey’s neck. “God, you smell so much fuckin sweeter than I remember. Wanna bottle your scent.”
The picture Alpha was painting with those words played out in Mickey's mind. Mickey's heart beat harder as Ian's teeth grazed his pulse and scent gland. His omega liked the thought of being shown off. But more than that, he was thinking about that knot swelling inside him. “Listen, man, if people watch us fuck, you better believe I'd charge them. Ain't nobody watching that shit for free.” He laughed, even as thunder rumbled. The storm wasn't bothering him anymore. “My scent, too. Bottle that shit up and sell it. How much do you think I'd make?”
Mickey always thought his omega smelled like a fucking cupcake. He guessed that was what Alphas liked.
“Not as much as you think." Ian chuckled. Given his profession, Ian couldn’t be caught in a compromising position, but it was fun to think about selling tickets to their fuck fest. "Both were my idea. You’d have to split the profits with me fifty-fifty.”
Mickey scoffed playfully.
“I think I’d be the only customer for your scent, anyway, since I’d be getting first dibs on the product. I’d go broke buying all the bottles. That’s how much I like it and how badly I don’t want anyone else to have it.” Ian couldn't prevent the slight growl at the end of his sentence. It wasn’t a lie. Ian hadn’t met an omega whose scent had made him go borderline insane without it, making him incredibly possessive whenever he was around it.
Mickey quieted, shock making his breath stop because he was thinking the same damn thing. Even if he could do that, could sell his scent, Mickey’s omega would give them to Ian for free. He didn’t want any other Alpha to have it. No matter how much money it made him.
Ian tilted his head to speak into Mickey’s ear, letting his growl grow into his Alpha voice. “Meant it when I said you were mine.”
Ian had never wanted to claim someone before, but he wanted to claim Mickey so he could keep him forever and ruin him for anyone else.
Mickey couldn’t hide his shiver from Ian. The power of his Alpha voice ran through Mickey's body and raised the hair on his arms and the back of his neck, bringing a wave of intense happiness to his omega at his core. Fuck. Again, flashes of his heat they spent together assaulted Mickey’s mind. Walking out of the bathroom and seeing the nest Ian built him was the same feeling in his omega as Ian telling him he was going to be his.
“Ian...” Mickey said in warning, using the Alpha’s name. He turned his head and met Ian’s gaze in the dark. Fuck, he was close. Smelled so fucking good. His Alpha. Mine.
Mickey’s heart skipped. No. I don’t belong to any fucking Alpha. I’m not an omega bitch. Never gonna be. Mickey repeated that in his head as his eyes threatened to stray down to Ian’s lips. “Thought you didn’t want nothin’ serious.”
Ian knew it wasn’t good that Mickey said his name like that. It sounded like the start of a scold. Ian liked hearing his name, anyway. It made his lips curl into a smile, even as Mickey questioned his intentions further. “Yeah, but... that was before I met you, and we’re just having fun. That’s clear. We keep talking about hanging out more, too, so we should. You’re not an omega for anyone else, anyway... So, you’re mine, right? I’m the only Alpha that gets you like this.”
Mickey’s eyes narrowed slightly. His stomach felt funny. Ian was talking in circles—confusing circles that sort of made sense, though? ...He was the only Alpha who’d ever been with Mickey’s omega. Mickey’s eyes narrowed more. “Are you lawyerin’ me, red?”
It felt like he was being tricked or something. Lawyers were good at that shit, spinning words, convincing.
Ian laughed lightly, not knowing what to say. He hadn’t done it on purpose. It had just fucking slipped out so naturally. He thought it’d turn Mickey on, too. He still felt the same way about Mickey. He was convinced that Mickey was his soulmate, even more so now that his body had physically rejected another omega. It would’ve been terrifying if he cared about being with anyone else. He knew what he wanted. He just had to keep his mouth shut. He wanted to call Mickey his, but of course, Mickey wasn’t having that shit. He was technically only an omega with Ian, so why couldn’t he just be Ian’s? Especially when they were alone in his apartment.
Ian's hand crept up under Mickey’s shirt, feeling the heat of the omega's skin. “You sure you’re not gonna make slick for me?”
Mickey’s stomach muscles jumped. Ian's fingers felt cool. Heat rose to Mickey’s face. “Not even your fuckin’ Alpha voice could make it happen,” Mickey insisted. He stopped himself from clenching his ass cheeks to make sure his omega hormones wouldn’t do a prison break like last time. “You know my suppressants stop all that omega shit. That’s why I brought the lube.”
Ian fell silent. Something about that truth stung. Ian had wanted slick, for Mickey to be turned on. “Yeah, I know. I was hoping I’d have the same effect on you as last time and you wouldn’t need it. Fucking hate suppressants. They’re horrible for you. You gotta know that. Experience some nasty side effects?”
Mickey looked away, frowning. Ian’s scent had changed. He was disappointed. “It’s better than walking around as a toy for Alphas to fucking use me,” he said, bitterness making his voice cold. What other choice did he have? “I don’t fuckin’ care what it does to me.”
Mickey watched the flames from the fire. Nothing his suppressants did would be worse than being an openly male omega. He didn’t want to be like his mom, like Mandy. They lived as omegas, were female, and looked where they’d gotten. Fucked over, used, abused, and shit on.
Sometimes, you had to sacrifice things and take risks to get what you wanted, and Mickey was doing just that.
“I do what I gotta do so I can live the way I wanna live.” Mickey bit his lip. He softened his tone. “I can’t be the only omega you’ve ever met who’s been on ‘em. We don’t do it ‘cause it’s fuckin’ fun.”
Ian didn’t know what it was like to be an omega. He had encountered omegas on suppressants for various reasons and had only heard and seen the worst side effects from those who'd used them. He wished there was a better solution than drugs. So many of the suppressants available were wholly unregulated and had things in them that could cause irreversible damage.
Ian had gone after one company, but he was pretty sure they kept doing what they were doing and had just changed their name. He didn’t know Mickey well, but he already cared about him deeply. He didn’t want him to get hurt in any way.
Ian regretted saying anything about suppressants. Mickey had his reasons. He didn’t want to and just couldn’t be an omega openly. He was doing exactly what he wanted to with his body. That was true. Ian didn’t have a say.
While in Mickey’s mind and by direct observation, omegas were treated like trash, not every omega was treated poorly. Ian didn’t treat omegas poorly. He wasn’t using or hurting Mickey.
“Of course... I know. It’s just that I’ve never been attracted to an omega that was on them. I am now, though,” Ian admitted softly, lifting Mickey’s chin so he would look at him again. “I’m sorry I brought it up. Won’t again.”
The ice in Mickey's eyes faded, finding nothing but sincerity in Ian. No tricks. His omega wanted him to trust this Alpha. On impulse, Mickey pushed his cheek into Ian's palm, giving it a shy nuzzle, his omega showing the Alpha it was alright.
Ian enjoyed the nuzzle. It was forgiving and settled the uneasiness in his chest at the sheer possibility that he’d upset his omega.
“I don't talk about it much,” Mickey said, pulling back up and relaxing. “To nobody.”
Just to his dealers, and they never had anything bad to say about what they were selling to him.
Mickey wasn't mad at Ian for bringing it up. He was just bitter about the way things had to be and tried not to think about it too often. There was no point in dwelling on shit that couldn't be changed.
“You’re not a man of many words, that’s for sure.” Ian liked it—liked the silence. He could be a little too chatty, even for his own liking. Ian slid down onto his back, head hitting the pillow. He was exhausted but didn’t want to fall asleep, not while Mickey was still there. Ian was afraid of Mickey dipping out on him again.
Mickey watched. It was like three thirty in the morning now—the only time of the day when quiet conversations in the dark like this could exist. Getting out of Ian’s bed and going home wasn’t an option. Mickey didn’t want to.
“C’mere, since you like being on top.” Like he could sense Mickey's pussyfooting hesitation, Ian reached out, snagged Mickey's wrist and yanked him on top of him.
Mickey was too tired to resist, and Ian was so fuckin’ warm, so he relaxed instead of protesting. Otherwise, he would not have been down for this snuggly crap.
Ian smirked and bundled his arms around Mickey. “This is probably not how you were picturing tonight going.” Ian yawned and rubbed Mickey’s back soothingly.
The backrub was nice—real, real nice. Mickey liked being on top of Gallagher this way, too. “Well, I thought I was gonna be deliverin’ more than just pizza to your mouth,” he quipped back, propping his chin on Ian’s chest to look at him. Ian’s yawn was contagious, and before Mickey knew it, he was yawning too and turning his cheek to use the Alpha as a pillow like they were a pair of kittens. “You’ll get it in the mornin’...”
Ian licked his lips, remembering how good Mickey had tasted. He looked forward to the morning, curious to see what Mickey would do to his mouth. He still wanted a kiss, especially.
“This ain’t happenin’ again,” Mickey reminded him, his voice drowsy with pleasure.
The cuddle thing wasn’t happening again. The fuck thing was definitely happening again.
Suddenly, nothing sounded better than giving in. The storm had finally calmed down, and the rain was quiet. That, in combination with the soft crackling of the fire, Gallagher’s comforting scent in his nose, and the safety of the Alpha under and around him, had Mickey closing his eyes like the fucking sandman had visited him. His body trembled with a loud purr as soon as he lost the battle and fell asleep, his omega safe and happy for the first time in weeks.
Mickey’s purr vibrated Ian’s entire body when it started up. His omega had fallen asleep. Despite it being summer and the fact that the fire was going, Ian still didn’t mind Mickey's warmth. He was naturally a cold Alpha and had craved it ever since he’d fallen asleep buried inside of Mickey. For three weeks, he’d slept alone in the air conditioning freezing, but not tonight.
Even though Mickey had threatened this would be the last time this happened, Ian had a feeling it wouldn’t be. It couldn’t be. He stopped rubbing Mickey’s back but left his hands there, closing his eyes. Ian’s own low, happy rumble filled the room.
Notes:
⛈🍕🔥💕
Chapter Text
Ian woke with the sunrise like he did every day. Whether or not he got enough sleep, his body was always on a strict schedule.
He heard the purring. It was impossible not to. It sounded and felt like a large cat had made its home on top of him. Ian didn’t hate it, especially when he finally opened his eyes and saw Mickey. He was really there. Ian felt his heart and mind melt at how adorable the omega looked in sleep. He took a minute to just observe. So soft.
Unfortunately, after that minute had passed, he realized he really had to piss. He carefully shimmied his way out from under Mickey and miraculously managed not to disturb him. Ian almost ran to the bathroom to relieve himself, paranoid that Mickey would leave.
When he returned, Mickey was still there. He had curled up in Ian’s spot. Ian sighed in relief.
The bed and Mickey were way too inviting. Ian drew the shades to dim the room, then got back under the covers, cuddling up to Mickey’s back and pressing his face into Mickey's deliciously sweet scent gland with a content rumble, nuzzling and kissing the spot to wake him up pleasantly.
ΩA
The omega was dreaming about his Alpha, and for reasons neither of them felt the need to question, they were running—fucking frolicking, really—in a sunny field with tall, soft grass. The sunlight was hitting their shoulders and warming their faces, and Mickey’s car was idling near them in the open land like it was perfectly normal for it to be there.
The sound of the engine’s purr calmed them, but they got tense whenever Mickey looked at the car or moved toward it, so they started pretending it wasn’t there.
Whenever Mickey plucked up the courage and tried to kiss his Alpha, he missed Ian’s lips, but instead of getting angry, Ian just laughed. “Try again, omega.”
Mickey looked around. Ian was gone, but he was close by. Mickey could feel him. “You’re supposed to chase me, Alpha,” Mickey complained.
He heard more laughter, low and amused. “That’s what I’ve been doing.”
Mickey turned his head in the direction of his Alpha’s voice. It was coming from the other side of a tree. Mickey grinned, coming up behind him and putting his hand on Ian’s shoulder to turn him around. “Caught ya.”
This time, when Mickey leaned in, Ian ducked, wrapping his arms around Mickey’s waist and taking them down into the grass.
“You fuckin’ tricked me!” Mickey said, laughing as they rolled around and then stopped, Ian nuzzling the side of his neck affectionately.
The car’s engine got louder as Ian kissed his scent gland, and Mickey closed his eyes.
Mickey opened his eyes to the real world, and the dream clung to him. He could still hear the car motor, but it and the dream faded as he realized they were coming from him. His chest was vibrating, and it felt like he was home again. Mickey made a soft noise, closing his eyes again and smiling, guard down. He took in the warm body behind him and that comforting scent, his omega slowly waking. He was at Ian’s place. Ian’s lips were on his neck.
“Mornin’,” Mickey murmured, still half-asleep. It felt early. “Time’s it?”
Ian smiled against Mickey’s skin. “It’s too early,” he replied, his voice soft but deep. Ian couldn’t have been happier. He hadn’t woken up in this good of a mood, probably ever. “It’s already a good morning, though, since you’re here.”
Mickey's eyes crinkled slightly as he smiled more. That line was cheesy as fuck, but it satisfied something deep within Mickey's omega to hear the Alpha happy. Maybe it wasn't just flattery. Mickey could hear it in his voice. Alpha is happy to be around me, his omega thought proudly.
“You’re quite the purring machine,” Ian commented. He hugged Mickey close to his chest and grinned. He had to let Mickey know he’d heard him. It was beyond cute that he'd purred up a storm for him. Ian rumbled against Mickey’s ear in return, feeling him shiver. Ian chuckled. “We can go back to sleep if you want. Were you having a good dream?”
That vibrating purr threatened to rise right back up as Gallagher held him. Mickey was embarrassed that Ian had heard him. He’d never felt his own purr before. He couldn't control it—no omega could because it just happened naturally. It couldn’t be concealed with a patch, a device, or a spray—not even a suppressant. The real unsurprising kicker was only Alphas could trigger it.
Luckily, there wasn't much to purr about in Mickey's daily life, and no Alpha he knew or met had been able to do it.
“Yeah, rainbows and kittens,” Mickey answered, closing his eyes as Ian slowly rubbed his cheek against Mickey’s, his beard tickling Mickey slightly and making him grin too. No way was he telling Gallagher about that dream. “Don't know how you get out of this bed in the mornin’.”
The comfy bed wasn't the only thing making Mickey want to stay in it. The idea of going back to sleep was really fucking appealing, but he could feel Ian's morning wood pressing against his ass through their layers of clothes—and Ian’s voice, gravelly with sleep, did things to his omega. “Feels like you’re already up, Alpha.”
Ian chuckled again, lowly, at Mickey’s observation. “Ah… yeah. Thought I was being subtle.”
Subtle was something he and his dick had issues with. He couldn’t hide it. Not that he wanted to or was going to deny it. Mickey turned Ian on. Being close and pressed up against him with his big, soft, pillowy ass that hugged the outline of Ian’s cock through the fabric of both of their pajama pants. That was why he had wood, not just that it was morning. He’d been deprived and had been expecting to get some last night.
“Subtle as that hair.” Mickey could feel Ian's arousal, smell his arousal, the musky scent sending a pulse of heat straight to his omega's center.
“Think you got a thing for it.”
Mickey yawned, stretching his legs and arms with a satisfied murmur before settling back into Ian's hold and purposefully pressing against his dick. "Mhm."
“It’s all your fault,” Ian groaned softly. He slid his hand down Mickey’s side to hold on to his hip as he ground his hips against Mickey’s ass.
“Poor Alpha,” Mickey said, smirking and moving back against him, letting his hips do a little talking of their own. “But you got me up first, ya know. Fair play.”
Mickey grabbed Ian's wrist from his hip and slowly pushed the Alpha's hand down the front of his pajama pants. He couldn't make slick, but he could still get hard, and his omega wanted the Alpha to feel his cock filling for him.
Ian let out a soft huff. It was only fair. He wrapped his fingers around Mickey lightly, slowly tightening his grip. Ian remembered that Mickey had a nice cock, and that it felt good in his hand. Filled his mouth when he'd sucked it. He grinned as he felt it grow with every pump of his fist.
Mickey pulled his own hand out of his boxers but kept his fingers wrapped around Ian's wrist, his chest rising and falling with quickening breaths. His body was focused on how Ian was jerking him off, but his omega was focused on the Alpha's words.
“Red must be your favourite color.” Last night, Ian had already assumed Mickey’s favourite colour was orange after he had suggested that colour for a rug. Ian was a redhead, and Mickey called him red and kept bringing up his hair. “I like blue. Light blue, like the color of your eyes.”
Ian couldn’t be cheesier, but most Alphas couldn’t recall the color of any omega’s eyes. They were too concerned with themselves to ever notice, but Ian had.
Mickey’s favourite color was red, he guessed. His favourite drink was and his favourite dessert (cherry cake). Red M&Ms were the ones he ate first. Redheads... he'd always been attracted to them. Even redheaded omegas sometimes made him look twice. Still, he snorted, ignoring his reaction to the information. “Dunno why you're talkin' about my eyes when your hand is around my dick,” he said. The only time an Alpha made those kinds of comments was when they wanted to get an omega in their bed. Mickey was already in Gallagher's. He didn't have to say shit like that. Mickey pulled Ian's hand out of his pants and sat up. “Take your pants off, red. Unless you wanna start braiding each other's hair or somethin'.”
At least the morning had started out pleasant before Mickey had started talking. Ian wondered how long Mickey would give him shit just for being himself. It was too bad they both had short hair. Ian could braid hair, thanks to Debbie. Fuck Mickey and his sarcastic ass. “Didn’t know you’d be into that. Let me weigh the options!”
Mickey’s lips curved upwards at the Alpha’s sassy response. He went to Ian's dresser, moving his phone off his clothes from last night to grab a packet of lube from his jeans. He tossed it onto Gallagher's chest. Mickey took off his pants, too, pulling the waistband of Ian's sweats over his woody and shoving them down. He wondered if Ian had ever fucked a beta before. If he'd used normal lube. This one was just run-of-the-mill beta lube. It wasn't like the synthetic omega slick they sold for lonely Alphas.
Ian grabbed the packet of lube from his chest and sat up. He looked at it skeptically. “This isn’t going to be enough.”
No way. Mickey had barely been able to take his knot when he was in heat, even with all of the slick he’d made. Ian set the packet aside, took off his shirt, and stood up to shuck his pants.
Mickey watched Ian undress, eyes roaming all over him while Ian wasn’t looking. Fuck, he’d forgotten how nice of a body the Alpha had. If Mickey were poetic at all, he might've had some words to write about it. There was no way he could forget that monster cock, though. Mickey stayed in place by the dresser while Ian walked over to him, gaze falling on it.
Ian grabbed Mickey’s hand and placed it on his cock, guiding it over his knot. Looking up, he let his gaze meet Mickey’s. “Think you can still take it?”
Mickey’s hand jerked slightly, squeezing Ian’s knot as his hole clenched in greedy anticipation. “Wouldn’t be here if I thought I couldn’t.”
If he felt any trepidation about having that up his ass, he didn’t show it. He wasn’t trying to climb Everest, just... Gallagher’s dick, and he’d already done it twice. Granted, he had been in heat then, and it had still stretched him more than he’d ever been stretched before. The suppressants muted a lot of things, though, including pain.
Mickey’s words made Ian smile. That’s right, he thought. Mickey had taken every inch and had been like a vice around his knot. Practically fucked himself on it. Ian’s body had a visceral reaction to Mickey squeezing him. He swayed towards the omega, eyelashes fluttering as warmth flooded his veins. He missed being touched. His own hand didn’t do much.
With his hormones under lock and key, Mickey wasn’t worried about losing control this time. He just wanted to get good and knotted, and Gallagher was more than able to deliver. He bit his lip and nodded to his jeans. “There’s more lube in my pocket.”
Ian gently removed Mickey’s hand, grabbing the rest of the lube from Mickey’s jeans, figuring it’d be better to be safe than sorry. He grabbed Mickey’s hand on the way back to the bed and tossed the packets onto the mattress before tackling Mickey onto it in a playful manner.
Mickey yelped, but his omega liked it. His omega wanted to play. Mickey wrestled Gallagher onto his back and pinned his wrists above his head, victorious.
Ian relaxed. While fighting for dominance had been fun the first two times, he didn’t care this time. “I'd rather not fight you to the death this time. You can be on top.” Ian winked at him. "Maybe we can have a calm and relaxing morning. I’ll make you breakfast after the post-sex nap I’m already planning.”
Mickey’s eyes widened, but he smirked. His omega was confused by the submissive behavior but felt smug about it. He knew Gallagher had liked the ride. “Was hardly to the death. You’d know if I was fightin’ you that way.”
“You wouldn’t fight me that way,” Ian replied confidently.
Even though Mickey had kicked him in the jaw, he hadn’t been trying to kill Ian, and that was when he’d assumed the worst. If any omega would be a match for him, it’d be Mickey. Mickey was very capable of hurting Ian and others. It was clear, glancing at Mickey’s scabbed-over knuckles, remembering how vague his non-explanation of them was.
Ultimately, Ian knew he could take Mickey. He would probably die if they were in a fight together against someone else. He had to protect his omega. Luckily, Mickey was looking hot as fuck above him and distracting him from those thoughts. All that was missing was slick.
Mickey couldn’t argue. His omega had a thing about him hurting this particular Alpha. One that made him feel sick when he even got close to doing it and filled him up with happy endorphins when he pleased him. He’d even used his omega voice on him twice.
Mickey rocked his hips forward like he was the one fucking Ian, and it made their cocks line up and slide against each other. The size difference thrilled his omega, thinking of taking that inside him again. Mickey glanced up and watched Gallagher react to the friction against his knot. He felt a warm swooping in his stomach—the feeling that usually happened to an omega before they started making slick. Mickey didn’t, but fuck if he didn’t want to. He swallowed a whimper.
“Bed and breakfast,” Mickey rasped, changing the subject. “Better than a fuckin’ hotel, aren’t ya.” He let go of one of Ian’s wrists and picked up a packet of lube, using his teeth to tear it open. Ian looked on, amused. Mickey gave the Alpha a little grin as he spit out the top of the packet. “Guess I could do relaxin’...Don’t you got lawyer stuff to do today?”
“I make my own schedule, and the only thing on it is you." Ian led with that, but he did. He didn’t work on Fridays when he didn’t have to be in court. Mysteriously, he still had the mark on his arm from three weeks ago. It had scarred and was throbbing pleasantly under Mickey's hot palm. Ian wiggled it free from Mickey’s grip. “You don’t have to hold me down. I’d rather be touching you.”
Mickey groaned softly after Ian fed him yet another line, his neck growing hot with a flush and his scent glands tingling. He might actually start falling for that cheese if the Alpha didn’t stop. Gallagher sure knew how to make an omega feel special. “Alright, sweet talker, I get it. You’re your own boss.”
No Alpha liked working under anyone. Mickey understood; he didn’t like following orders either.
Ian held Mickey’s sides, moving his hands down Mickey’s body and grabbing two big handfuls of his ass, soft but firm fluff that he happily squeezed.
Mickey bit his lip. He’d been about to drizzle the lube over their cocks, but he changed his mind and squeezed the packet behind himself instead, feeling it drip down his crack. He cocked his head. “Go on then, stretch me out.”
It would take less time if Gallagher did it. He had longer fingers. Mickey tried not to eagerly push back into the Alpha’s hands by bracing his own hands on Ian’s torso. He’d been thinking about this for weeks. Shit, he was even dreaming about it.
Ian grinned like the Cheshire cat and did a little drum roll on Mickey’s ass cheeks with his fingertips. He was that excited that Mickey was allowing him to prep him this time. Mickey tolerated this with an eyebrow quirk that said get the fuck on with it. With his right hand, Ian's index finger slid down Mickey’s crack to gather the lube on it before his finger traced the tight ring of Mickey’s hole. He started to push it in and was met with warm resistance. Usually, a gush of slick would make things easier, but that still didn’t happen, silently infuriating Ian. He wanted his omega dripping wet. He really had to work his single finger in, wiggling and twisting it until it was in down to the second knuckle.
“Finally,” Ian said, pulling his finger out and pushing it back in to make room for another finger. “You’re literally gonna cut off the circulation to my fingers, so God damned tight...”
Mickey grunted, biting his lip. He kept eye contact with the Alpha and tried to stay still. “Yeah, wait till you feel it ‘round your dick. Ain’t loose like that whore you were dancin’ with—ahh, fuck —”
The growl Mickey unleashed as he remembered that omega puttered out when Ian pulled one of Mickey’s cheeks apart to open him more, shoving two fingers in, stretching Mickey and scissoring them on the way out—which was probably good because he'd sounded way too jealous for comfort. There was a burning sensation as Ian stretched him, but it didn’t hurt. Mickey ripped open another packet of lube and squeezed it onto Ian’s fingers. He wanted to be wetter.
Mickey's omega was frustrated, even though he had been through this multiple times before. He wasn’t wet enough, and his body wasn’t sending any signals to the Alpha that he was ready. Mickey pushed the thought away.
Ian laughed. He liked his omega jealous. “I wasn’t gonna dip into that. Sure my dick would’ve fallen right the fuck off.”
Luckily, it was Mickey touching his dick. Ian moaned softly and flicked his wrist, pushing his fingers in as deeply as possible.
“Sure fuckin’ seemed like you were about to,” Mickey returned. He cursed himself as soon as he did because that was something a scorned omega would say, and he was not that, damn it. He hissed when the tips of Ian’s fingers sank even deeper and just brushed against his o-spot. “You don’t gotta be so fuckin’ gentle.”
He wasn’t, really, but Mickey could take more. He needed more. More pain, more pleasure, to counteract the diluted version his suppressants were giving him. Mickey wrapped a hand around their cocks and stroked to ease his frustration.
“I’m not. You’re just...” Not making slick. “What do you want, my whole hand up there? Because I’m not into that,” Ian said with sass. Fucker. “I’m sure it’ll feel like my dick is splitting you in half once you sit on it.”
Ian added a third finger. He couldn’t see how much Mickey was stretched; he could just feel it since he was facing him. Mickey clenched around him and squeezed Ian’s knot before letting go. He slid his hands up the Alpha’s chest and pinched his erect nipples, getting him back for his attitude. “You into that?”
Ian growled so low and deep that his chest vibrated. It stung a bit, but subsequently, it made his dick move. Ian liked it.
Mickey smirked and started riding Ian’s fingers, purposefully clenching harder around them and taking his control away.
Mickey had had enough prep. Ian withdrew his fingers, grabbing Mickey’s thighs. “Doesn’t matter what it looked like, by the way. I’m exactly where I want to be, with exactly who I want to be with.”
If that wasn’t enough reassurance for the omega, Ian didn’t know how else to convince him. If Mickey felt bitter, hurt and jealous, he should have blamed himself since he was all Ian wanted. And it was too damn bad he had chosen to completely ignore Ian for three long weeks—the three longest weeks of his life.
“You gonna get on me?” Ian asked expectantly.
Mickey felt that swoop and clench of his stomach again, suppressing a hard shiver as Ian pulled his fingers out. He knew if he was in heat, he would have just gushed slick like a faucet. Mickey didn't say anything more, his smirk slipping away as he opened one last packet of lube and poured it over Ian's cock.
He'd already said too much. Shit he hadn't wanted to say but had blurted out anyway. He was supposed to have control over his omega. It was pulling him hard in the opposite direction after every move he made with Ian—except for this one, being right here right now. Ian wasn't his Alpha. He could have had that slutty omega at the club and still could have whatever the fuck he wanted with whoever the fuck he wanted. Mickey had no claim. He'd made sure of that.
Lifting and bracing himself above, Mickey took hold of Ian's cock and positioned it against his opening. He swallowed a moan as the head touched his rim and then pushed down to take it in, slowly sinking onto it. Mickey only got halfway before it felt like he couldn't take anymore, but he didn't stop—rising, lowering, and taking an extra inch every time. Maybe Everest was easier to climb.
He was starting to sweat, and his face was twisting up because it hurt like a bitch even with all that prep, but it was the most he'd felt in weeks. Three weeks. And he didn't want to stop.
The second Mickey lowered himself down, Ian had no complaints at all, but Mickey looked like he was in pain. Ian wanted to take it away, reach up, and touch his face to soothe him. He didn’t in fear of scaring Mickey off, but he wiped his sweat away with a tender touch. It felt amazing for him. Feeling Mickey around him again, squeezing so tightly, took his breath away.
With every movement up, Mickey lowered himself down a little bit lower, driving Ian wild. "Mickey," Ian moaned.
He felt like he was going to come. He could feel his gut aching. He wanted to come. He had to wait until—well, wanted to wait—until Mickey got to his knot at least. He had to pop his fucking knot.
“I’m gonna come,” Ian groaned, trying hard not to. It was embarrassing to admit. What had it been, five minutes? Ian had more control with slick—he could move—but now all he could do was hold on to Mickey and try to hold out under intense heat, pressure, and friction. His untouched knot throbbed painfully, and Ian hissed softly as he felt Mickey bottom out on him.
Thank fuck, Ian thought. He had to knot him now.
Mickey wanted Ian to pop his knot and pump him with come like nothing else, but he wasn't feeling ready just yet. Holy fuck, it was going to be a lot. At least Ian had warned him first. Mickey could feel the Alpha throbbing inside him, could feel how much he needed to just shove in and pop it. It would have been nice to get fucked for a few proper thrusts first, but...
“S'okay,” Mickey said anyway, voice thready. “I want it.”
Ian wrapped his arms around Mickey’s waist, pushing up and trying to get his knot inside, feeling desperate and frantic. The second he popped it in, he started to orgasm, gushing three weeks’ worth of pent-up come into Mickey with a whimper.
Mickey had a short, panicked moment where he was one hundred percent sure it wasn't gonna fucking fit, but then it did, and pain and pleasure speared into him as Ian's knot went in. Mickey wrapped his arms around Ian and dug his nails into his shoulders so he didn't cry out as it started to inflate, needing something to ground himself, trying not to tighten up because that would only make it hurt more. He'd never felt this full before. He'd used a knot toy on himself, even when he wasn't in heat, but it'd never had nine inches of cock attached to it.
Getting knotted like this was nothing like it had been during their heat sex three weeks ago. There was a lot more pain and stretching that his body didn't want to accommodate the way it was right now, tricked into an almost beta-like state by his suppressants. Mickey tried not to make any noise as that knot inflated fully, and Ian continued to come.
He said he could take it, and he fuckin' meant it. He was feeling everything, all of it. Mickey buried his face in the Alpha's neck, opening his mouth against it and pulling his upper lip up, incisors gleaming. His omega wanted him to bite, to transfer some of that pain, to give the Alpha half and share it, to mark and claim his Alpha. Mickey scraped his teeth along Ian's skin, panting.
Mickey said that it was okay and he wanted it, but Ian didn’t think he was feeling that much pleasure. He, on the other hand, was overwhelmed with pleasure. It flooded his senses while he flooded Mickey. The omega definitely hadn't come. Mickey's nails shredded into Ian’s shoulders, signaling he must’ve been in pain. Ian rubbed Mickey’s back before he slid his hand between them, reaching for Mickey’s cock just as he felt Mickey’s teeth against his neck. His breath hitched, and he broke out in goosebumps.
Mickey relaxed, letting go of Ian's shoulders and holding onto his back. The longer the knot stayed in him, the better it started to feel, and he'd pleased the Alpha. Ian was still coming, fuck. Filling him up so fuckin' well. Every time Ian stroked him, he felt it in both places, and the pain faded until it was just aching in a good way—a fucking great way.
“You want to claim me?” Ian asked, bracing for whatever rejection would happen this time. He squeezed Mickey’s cock, and he bit down on his own lower lip instead of into Mickey’s neck. He wasn’t in heat. It wouldn’t work if he did it now. Ian buried his face against Mickey’s neck. He opened his mouth, teeth mimicking what Mickey’s had done.
Mickey prickled with awareness when he felt Ian's canines on his neck, and time seemed to slow down. Taking Ian's knot again, being close to him again, seeing that other omega with him...
Mickey tilted his head, wanting. “Fuckin'... yeah,” he answered, somewhere between a growl and a whine.
Being one hundred percent fucking sober, not in heat, and on suppressants, and Mickey’s omega still felt the way it did that night? And the fact he couldn't stand seeing Gallagher with that other omega. That was like a bomb of clarity. Of fear, too, of what admitting it meant, but Mickey fucking wanted him.
Mickey started to bite Ian, almost forgetting something important.
Omegas weren’t allowed to claim first, and they had to be in heat when they were claimed by an Alpha, or the bond wouldn’t take. It was an Alpha rule. A stupid fucking rule, Mickey thought viciously, but Ian had respected him so far, and he had to do the same.
He let go, scenting Ian aggressively instead. And then he shivered, spasming around Ian's knot and moaning in the Alpha's ear as he started coming. "Ian, Ian, fuck.."
Ian let go of his lower lip. “Jesus, Mick,” he breathed, body shaking. His eyes rolled up in his head as Mickey scented him, milking him dry. It felt so, so good, but... Ian was so confused. Happy inside but fearful of the giddiness he was feeling.
Mickey liked him? Mickey wanted to claim him!?
Up until this point, he wasn’t one hundred percent sure that Mickey felt what he did. Mickey’s body did, but he wouldn’t let his mind come around to the idea. Ian wished he would’ve claimed Mickey when he had the chance, but now that he knew it was something Mickey wanted, he couldn’t be unhappy.
Ian lifted his clean hand and gently sunk his fingers into Mickey’s hair. He pulled to get Mickey's face away from his neck, confident nothing would stop him from kissing him this time, and Mickey wouldn’t hurt him.
Mickey's brow furrowed when Ian pulled him away from his neck. His body was still shivering in aftershocks as he realized what Ian was about to do. A blush stained his cheeks as Ian swooped in and brushed their lips together, soft as could be. Mickey went still at the contact, eyes wide open. He closed them a second later, his heart pounding like a drum.
He was acting like a fucking idiot. Like a seventeen-year-old pup instead of the grown-ass man that he was. It was just a fuckin' kiss. Lips on lips. You moved them against the other person's, and they did the same. There was usually tongue. He just had to act natural.
Mickey's hand curled into a fist against Ian's back. He was positive his inexperience was showing like a giant neon sign pointed directly at him, but this wasn't a fucking Drew Barrymore movie, and he wasn't standing in the middle of a baseball field. No... he was sitting on a nine-inch dick and had just busted a nut all over Ian.
Fake it till you make it. Come on, Milkovich, you're fuckin' good at that.
The first thing Mickey did when he finally responded was kiss Ian harder—too hard? Shit, he could feel Ian's teeth. Well, at least he wasn't kissing him like a pussy, right?
Ian was so ecstatic to be kissing Mickey that he didn’t think anything was unusual. The way Mickey kissed back was aggressive, but Ian had learned that was pretty much how Mickey was. Ian liked it—a lot. He could've kissed him for hours if he had the lung capacity, but eventually, their air ran out.
Mickey pulled back when Ian did, licking his lips because they felt strange. He looked at Ian's lips again and then met his eyes. “You know this don't mean I'm your bitch now,” Mickey warned him.
“Wasn’t asking you to be, but…” Ian smirked because Mickey was still sitting on his cock, “I’d like to ask you to be my boyfriend if you’re down for that?”
Mickey had said he wanted to claim him, and because he couldn’t, Ian thought of the next best thing. A verbal agreement until Mickey’s next heat when they could claim each other for real. That was what Ian wanted.
“Boyfriend,” Mickey repeated dubiously. That was a beta thing. Omegas were just bitches. Mickey didn’t know. He hadn’t thought beyond wanting Ian to be spoken for by his omega.
Ian didn’t know what Mickey’s answer would be. He’d probably tell him he was no one’s bitch, but Ian didn’t see him as a bitch at all, and if Mickey wanted him to be faithful, he could at least agree.
Ian didn't wait for an answer, attacking Mickey's face with kisses gleefully to celebrate Mickey finally accepting his kiss. “Say yes, say yes,” Ian chanted softly.
Mickey’s damn face went on fire again. “Alright, ya overgrown puppy...” Mickey complained. A grin split his face as the Alpha continued to assault him with sweet kisses. He was worse than a fuckin’ labrador. “Alright!” He laughed, threading a hand through Ian’s hair and tugging his head back.
That kind of behaviour should be illegal for an Alpha to do. Begging him like that. Fuck, Mickey’s omega liked him. Ian was the most ridiculous, most different Alpha he’d ever met. “You’re gonna give me fuckin’ cavities, man. Then how’m I gonna bite ya, huh?”
Mickey leaned forward and bit the Alpha’s bottom lip before he could second guess himself, growling softly in play as he tugged and let go. Ian’s knot had finally gone down. He really couldn’t think clearly like this. Mickey lifted up, holding in a groan as Ian’s entire length left him, and he was empty. He was going to be sore as fuck for a day at least.
Ian furrowed his brow and let out a low growl at the sting of the bite in combination with the loss of warmth. He sucked on his lower lip, beginning to think that biting was Mickey’s only form of affection. He wanted to be claimed so badly.
Mickey rolled off Ian and onto his back, stretching comfortably. “I got a couple rules,” he said, looking at him. “Hard rules.”
Ian shifted up the bed. “Rules... hard rules. Rules to be hard, Mickey? Because I’m pretty sure that isn’t going to be a problem with you being my boyfriend.” Ian motioned to his cock, then laid down on his side, resting his head against his bicep as he looked back at the omega.
He liked Mickey more than he liked anyone. It was weird, but he couldn’t help it. Something about him made Ian feel sickeningly saccharine. He couldn’t help but smile as he looked at the gorgeous man in his bed, freshly fucked. Ian didn’t think it was just the afterglow making him happy. He knew Mickey wouldn’t want to be his omega openly, so he figured the rules would have something to do with that.
Mickey grinned again. “Quit with the fuckin’ flatterin’.” He watched the Alpha lay beside him and turned his head toward the ceiling when Ian smiled, flushing slightly.
Ian just shook his head no and chuckled because he knew that he’d never stop flattering Mickey. He moved his free hand to take Mickey’s in his, sliding his fingers in between Mickey’s. “Okay,” he said. “Tell me about the rules.”
Ian wanted to be with him, so if there were some reasonable rules he could comply with, he would. Mickey was worth it.
Mickey’s fingers twitched when Ian took his hand, but he opened his palm and grasped him back gently. His face got more serious as he thought about what he was about to tell Ian. He was pretty sure Ian would try to negotiate with him on most. “First rule: you know I ain’t out—never gonna be. You can’t tell anybody what I am. Far as anybody knows, I’m an Alpha. So tell your brother to shut his mouth, too. You’re the only ones who know.”
Mickey would threaten Lip if he had to. It was up to Ian if he wanted to tell his friends and family he was dating an Alpha, but Mickey didn’t expect him to. It would hurt his status and image, especially since he was from a family of famous Alpha lawyers.
“Second rule: we can’t be together at my club or in the South Side. We can only be friends there.” Mickey glanced at Ian and then frowned at the ceiling. He hoped Ian understood why, though again, he doubted the Alpha would. Having to keep their relationship a secret... this, them, was already seeming way too fuckin’ far-fetched to work. “My place excluded.”
Mickey cleared his throat. “Last rule: don’t use your Alpha voice to command me. Ever. You do, and we’re fuckin’ through.”
Ian hadn’t tried to command him since the night he'd gone into heat and had only used his Alpha voice to say something fuckin' sweet last night, but Mickey wanted to be clear. It was a deal-breaker.
“Follow those, and I’m your omega,” he said quietly.
Despite what Ian thought, he really wasn’t worth it.
Ian took a deep breath as Mickey started rolling out the rules. By the end, he wasn’t surprised by any of them, and hearing Mickey say I'm your omega made his heart nearly skip three beats. He only had one objection. He was happy that Mickey was willing to let him come to his place, and it was reassuring that they could be together there, too. Ian wondered if they could be together in his neighbourhood. Would Mickey go out on dates with him in the North Side, at least?
“I talked to Lip last night. Actually threatened him to keep his mouth shut,” Ian said.
Ian wondered if he should’ve told Mickey Lip had taken Mandy out. Lip knew if he had to talk about their relationship, he could do that with him, but Ian didn’t usually talk to his brother about anyone. He had spoken to Lip about Mickey because he was special. No one else would care who he dated. They were all too concerned with themselves to give a fuck.
Mickey’s frown faded. Last night, Ian had been pissed at Mickey for ignoring him, but he'd still wanted to protect him? Had threatened his own blood? That... that was a big fuckin’ deal. That meant a lot.
“Guess I have to let go of that fantasy of dancing in the club with you."
Mickey swallowed, hearing Ian’s wistful tone. “Dancing’s overrated, red,” he reminded him gruffly.
They could go out together away from his neighbourhood, maybe. His family never strayed far from home. And if anyone did see him or thought they saw him, who the fuck would believe it anyway?
“I only have one objection about using my voice,” Ian said. “I have to be able to use it if you’re in danger. You gotta trust me… I’ll only use it if you’re in trouble.”
Ian didn’t regret using his voice on Mickey one bit when he had, but it hadn’t even worked since Mickey had the silencer. It wouldn't work if there were new silencers in the future either, but Mickey had to trust him.
There was way less objecting from Ian than Mickey had thought. But his last rule was the most important one. “You think I’ve never been in danger before? Never been in trouble? I’ve always taken care of myself. Never needed help from an Alpha to do that.”
“I don’t like thinking about you in danger or trouble...” Ian knew that Mickey had been, though, and he would probably continue to be. "I know you can take care of yourself, and you have, up until now. You kicked me and punched Lip.”
Ian chuckled. Getting kicked wasn’t the funny part. Lip bitching about his nose for a week was funny. Ian didn’t think he'd deserved it, and neither did Lip, but it showed him Mickey’s strength and capability.
For Mickey, it wasn’t about trust. It was about control. No Alpha should have control over him and be able to make him do things he didn’t want to do. Even if he was in danger, he could still think and act for himself, with one exception. Mickey swallowed again, looking at Ian. “Only if another Alpha uses their voice on me, and I can’t stop it. Only then—only in that kind of situation.”
Ian nodded slowly. “I can live with that. That’s a good compromise. Okay, that’s the only time I’ll use it,” he promised.
He couldn’t argue that. It was a pretty reasonable request. All Ian wanted to do was protect what was his. It wasn’t like he was interested in controlling Mickey. Mickey had his own life and independence. That was one reason Ian liked him, anyway.
Mickey’s chest loosened at the Alpha’s promise. It was weird. Ian did seem to respect him, even knowing he was an omega. He’d only known Alphas to want control, to see omegas as brainless fuck toys, to have complete ownership of them. But Ian didn’t, so far.
“Wanna hear my rules?” Ian asked. He let go of Mickey’s hand, inched closer, and wrapped his arms around Mickey’s middle.
Mickey tensed, raising an eyebrow to cover the reaction, but quickly discovered they weren’t serious rules. They were just seriously... fluffy.
“Cuddles, before and after sex,” Ian declared, nuzzling Mickey's neck for good measure.
He pulled back and cupped Mickey’s face, looking at him softly. “Good morning and good night kisses.”
Mickey’s whole body and face went warm as Ian kissed him again. His lips tingled when Ian pulled away. He was surprised enough by it that he hadn’t reacted at all. He wanted to ask Ian if his lips were tingling too, but maybe that was supposed to happen to omegas when Alphas kissed them, and Mickey would sound like an idiot for not knowing. Better not to mention it.
Ian rubbed their noses together affectionately, grinning as Mickey’s face reddened for the third time that morning. “The last and most important rule: lots and lots of sex all the time.”
“So, was that good mornin’ and an early good night? ‘Cause you kissed me a minute ago. And we ain’t gonna see each other every day and night.” After a second, Mickey put his hand on Ian’s hip, feeling the need to reciprocate. His hold was awkward and gentle, like a nervous pup holding his date at a middle school dance.
Shit, he wasn’t good at this. Ian’s hard rule was the only one he was any good at. Sex. But cuddling, kissing... couple stuff? Mickey was crap at that.
“I know we won’t, but I wish we could.” Ian knew it wasn’t plausible during the week. He couldn’t keep up with Mickey’s hours, and it’d probably be inconvenient to ask Mickey to come over all of the time, especially if it was just to sleep. He had gotten the best night’s sleep since he’d met Mickey in just a few hours by merely being in his presence again. “That wasn’t a goodbye kiss. You’ll know it when it’s a goodbye kiss. That was a ‘just because’ kiss. Just because you’re adorable, and it was for emphasis. Also, there will be dates and trips I’m going to take you on. Hopefully, you’ll be able to get away from your work.”
Mickey’s brain couldn’t compute any of that. (Adorable?!) He didn’t know what to say, but his face was now a permanent shade of fuckin’ pink. “…Trips?” he asked, eyes narrowing in confusion and suspicion. “What kinda trips?”
“Oh, you know, when it’s below zero out, and we’re freezing our balls off here in Chicago, we could go on a vacation to Mexico. If you don’t have a passport, we can get you one. Or we could go somewhere warm, like Florida, California—anywhere you want. I know you’re in charge of things. It’s probably hard for you to get away.”
“A vacation,” Mickey repeated. He was beginning to sound like a broken record, but that hadn’t even crossed his mind. “Ain’t never been on one of those.”
And definitely not with a... with a... fuck. He had been to Mexico before for work, but that probably didn’t count. Ian was right, anyway. Even if he did have money for that, he didn’t have the time to spare. He was running not one but two businesses.
“My rules aren’t strict. They’re not even rules, just perks and features?” Ian suggested, unsure if he was coming off correctly or just goofy like he’d hoped.
“Let’s just... take it a day at a time, man. Think we’re gettin’ ahead of ourselves.” Mickey bit his lip. All of this was overwhelming.
It was strange, too, thinking of going somewhere with the Alpha when he didn’t even know that much about him yet. He felt like he’d just scraped the surface of Ian, whereas Ian apparently had him all figured out already. He really hadn’t, though.
Maybe it was too soon to talk about trips, but it was still summer. Ian wasn’t thinking about taking Mickey on one too soon but knew he wanted to go away together eventually. He could do a day at a time, though. "Of course. One day at a time."
“You mentioned somethin’ about breakfast?” Mickey tilted his head at the Alpha. “I like pancakes.”
Hesitating for a second, Mickey leaned in close, nuzzling his heated cheek and nose against Ian’s neck to strengthen his scent before he quickly sat up and got off the bed.
Just because. Man, maybe that was why. Maybe nuzzling and scenting was a normal thing to want to do to a... boyfriend.
Fuck, he had a boyfriend. An Alpha boyfriend. What the fuck was he doing?
Mickey’s stomach flipped. He flicked on the light as he entered the bathroom and looked over his shoulder. “You got a toothbrush I can use? I got bats in the cave.” It was a good thing neither of those kisses had tongue.
Ian smirked, laughing. “I thought bats in the cave were boogers, so I don’t know what you’re going to do with a toothbrush to rid you of them, but yeah, I have extra.”
Ian stretched out before sitting up. He didn’t want to get up, but Mickey needed a toothbrush and wanted breakfast. He waltzed into the bathroom, went to the vanity, and opened a drawer stocked with new toothbrushes, toothpaste, mouthwash, deodorant, shampoo, and conditioner. It was part of his OCD to be prepared and never run out of the necessities. He handed Mickey a red toothbrush before he shut the drawer. Ian turned on the tap and grabbed his electric toothbrush and the toothpaste. He smiled slightly at the fact that they were being domestic together, brushing their teeth side by side. His double sinks finally made sense. He was beginning to think he could get used to this.
Ian spat and rinsed, putting his toothbrush back in its holder. Mickey was still brushing, watching him in the mirror and trying to pretend like he wasn't. “Alright, meet me downstairs in a few. Food might take a little while, so go ahead and shower or bathe if you want.”
Ian was going to make a big breakfast. He wanted to go all out for his omega. He exited the bathroom and pulled on a clean pair of underwear and a tank top before heading downstairs. He smiled when he heard the shower turning on, feeling elated.
He made a pit stop to the living room on his way to the kitchen. He cleaned up the broken plate and then tended to the pizza stain, which wasn’t too bad at all. It came right out with his industrial carpet cleaner.
ΩA
Mickey descended the staircase freshly showered and in a pair of Ian’s boxers. He'd kind of wanted to stay dirty and keep Ian's scent all over him, but he knew he couldn't go to work smelling the way he was. His rain-soaked clothes from the night before weren’t on the dresser anymore, and he heard the dryer running, so he figured Ian had taken care of them again.
They sat together to eat breakfast, gorging on a lavish spread with three different kinds of pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon, orange juice, and fuckin’ French Press coffee with sweet cream. Mickey felt like he was in one of those Disney shows where the family always had a perfect breakfast waiting for them when they woke up, except it was usually with an overly perky o standing beside the stove, not a big, sweet-faced Alpha.
Ian tried to play footsie with him under the table. Mickey dodged his every attempt until Ian caught on to his moves and managed to trap one of his ankles, showing off his sharp canines with a predatory smirk. Mickey couldn’t tame his answering grin, damp tendrils of hair falling into his eyes as he looked down.
After they were done, Mickey went to grab his clothes. He was tempted to stay as he was, half-nude, but he had to get dressed sometime. Mickey pulled them on. They were still warm and didn’t smell like anything.
Ian had migrated to the living room, so Mickey joined him there. The rug with the pizza stain was gone, and the room held a faint scent of cleaning chemicals, dispersing through a large open window that was letting in fresh air. They were so high up that you couldn’t even hear the traffic.
The Alpha was sitting on the couch, feet propped up on the coffee table. After an awkward, too-long pause deciding, Mickey sat down one full cushion away from him, feet planted on the floor. He glanced at Ian, lighting a cigarette instead of speaking. Should he have sat closer? Or was it only in bed that they should be close?
He didn’t know how long he should stay. What amount of time was normal for boyfriends to spend together? He wasn’t living with the Alpha, after all. Wouldn’t ever be, Mickey reminded his omega. They were just... dating. Mickey’s heart thumped off rhythm again as he thought about it.
First knot, first kiss, first boyfriend. He had had a lot of firsts happen recently.
Mickey had always been a private person, for good fucking reason, but he had a strange urge to tell someone. Unlike when he was sixteen and presented as an omega and felt absolute fucking dread, was this what actual excitement felt like? Was this happiness? He’d only ever had one person he could talk to about things in his life, and he’d shared a womb with her.
A chime from his pocket popped the bubble Mickey was in. He pulled his phone out and looked at the screen. He thought it might be his twin, like he’d summoned her with his thoughts, but it was Tony. Texting him to tell him Dad had a pick-up for them to do that afternoon.
“I gotta go,” he said, rubbing his bottom lip with his thumb. His eyes flickered to Ian and then away. At least that answered his uncertainty over how long to stay over. “Job to do.”
To say Ian was disappointed was an understatement. He instantly felt bummed, especially since he didn’t have any plans, and they’d had such a cozy night and good fucking morning. It was finally the weekend, too. Although it wasn’t like he could beg his boyfriend—Ian felt giddy just thinking that—to stay if he really had to go. He had to take things one day at a time, or so his boyfriend had said earlier.
Ian nodded and lowered his feet from the coffee table to the floor. He closed the distance between them on the couch, sliding over to the cushion Mickey had left between them. Ian took the cigarette from between Mickey’s lips with two of his fingers and replaced it with his lips. He had to give his omega a good goodbye kiss he would remember. Mickey’s hand clenched on his thigh in surprise, his breath hitched, and he made a little noise as he kissed back. This kiss lasted longer than the other two. Mickey actually tried to follow him when Ian pulled back, making him grin. Ian fed the cigarette back between Mickey's slack lips. “Alright, but you better text your boyfriend later tonight.”
Mickey’s face was never gonna feel cool ever again. That was what being Ian’s boyfriend was going to be like. Constant hot face from all the kisses. “I will,” he said. He stood up and removed the cigarette from his mouth, smoke pluming out his nostrils as he sucked his bottom lip, still tasting a bit of the Alpha. Mickey lifted a hand, bruised knuckles brushing Ian’s cheek gently. He smiled back and freed his omega voice. “Talk to you soon, boyfriend.”
Notes:
Thank you so much for reading! We hope you enjoyed the ride. 💕
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