Chapter Text
The air is muggy here. That’s the first thing that Guy takes in as he sits on the train. The air is thick, he can feel it coming down his throat as if it were a viscous liquid. It’s oppressive. He wonders if that is how the rest of his life will be. Oppressive. He tries to think positively. Perhaps he will find happiness here. Perhaps.
He had been on this train for six hours. Sitting in an uncomfortably pressed linen dress that he had been forced into by his foster family. Though omega fashion existed on a spectrum of both the masculine and feminine beta styles, his family wanted him to look as much like an ornament as possible. Why did they bother to give him clothes at all, he thought. Perhaps they should have just draped him in golden chains.
Six weeks ago, they had given him a choice, though calling it one was an overstatement. Either he got married off or they would send him to an institution. A home for challenging unwed omegas, they would call it.
That’s what he was. Challenging. He was considered a challenging, hard to deal with omega according to his family. He hears voices and has strange dreams that he has a hard time shaking off. He tries to be polite, but he is often obstinate. He is not as meek as they would like him to be. He is not useful to them, therefore, he is a burden.
They didn’t want to deal with him anymore and though he was technically an adult, they still had control over him. So he must be married off. He supposed that it could be worse. If he was unmarryable entirely he might live a life of electric shocks and heavy medication.
A gentle squeeze to his shoulder knocks him out of his thoughts. He startled, looking at the man who touched him. “Mister Anatole, is it?” He was a man in a conductors uniform. He was older, a beta. He smiled at Guy warmly. “My, you are pretty.” He said. It was not flirtatious. He was just being pleasant.
“Yes that’s me.” Guy said. The conductor’s brow knit with concern, then Guy noticed the sadness. He felt pity for him.
‘He’s so young. Poor dear. We don’t choose our fate.’
The thought came so clearly. It always gave him a little shock. He had been told it was an illness. But some part of him felt intuitively that it was not. That it was real.
“This is your stop, my dear.” He said.
“Oh.” Guy exclaimed, fumbling to grab his bags.
“No.” The conductor said firmly. “We’ve been instructed to bring those to the car. Don’t concern yourself with it.” He said.
Guy tucked his chin down, lower his gaze submissively. “Alright.” He said softly.
He got off the train and stepped onto the platform. A man waved him over – a tall, bald man. He walked forward. “Hello?” He asked nervously. Getting closer, he came to the realization that he was an alpha. Was this the man he meant to marry?
“Guy?” The man asked. Guy nodded. “Right. Highsmith.” He said, pointing to himself. “Get in.”
“My bags…” Guy pointed at the train. “The conductor said you would-”
“Everything will be provided for you.” Highsmith said. “You don’t need your old things.”
Guy stood there, uncomfortable. “But I brought my books and-” He huffed. “Can’t you just get them? I don’t understand…”
He moved to go and grab them himself, standing up on the train. Highsmith cursed and ran up to him. He stopped him bodily. “Alright. I’ll get them.” He said, tense.
‘Difficult brat. He’d get a willow switching for that if I owned him.’
Guy stiffened, even more uncomfortable. He hugged his chest. Highsmith threw his bags – he only had a few things, he didn’t know why it would be such a bother to bring them – into the trunk of his car. “Now get in. It’s getting late. Jasper will want to see you before you turn in.”
Guy made a face of some confusion at the name, but did as he was told.
…
The drive was unsettling. Highsmith was a bad driver. Either that or he was driving recklessly to unsettle Guy, in which case it was working very well. The drive was long and they delved into the countryside.
It took them some time to arrive, but when they did Guy was floored. It was a mansion – austere in its beauty and very old. It looked like it must have been built during the colonial era. Large and expansive. The gates opened and Guy looked around. There was so much greenery and natural beauty. He was not used to it.
He had lived in Detroit, before being sold off. In the city, in a small house. He had not gone to parks much or gone camping. He was used to paved streets and people talking and so much discordant noise. Here it was quiet. He liked the quiet.
The car stopped and they were in front of the house. Close to the entrance. The doors opened and a maid walked out down the veranda stairs. “You must be the bride to be. Come. The Master of the house is waiting inside.” She said, gently putting a hand on his shoulder to guide him in.
He was taller than her by several inches, he noticed. She was an omega too, but very slight even for one. Guy was quite tall. If he was a beta or alpha, he might be over six feet – omegas were smaller by nature, stunted by presentation. He was just under six feet as it stood. Quite tall and slim. He had been described as statuesque before.
“You must be very tired from your journey,” She said. “I’m Kevis.”
“Guy.” Guy said. “I am tired. Nervous.” He said shyly.
She smiled. “That’s a bit generic, isn’t it?”
“Thanks. Never heard that one before.” He said, sarcastically.
“Sure you have.” Kevis said, guiding him down the hall and into a parlor. She led him to sit down on a sofa. “Jasper will be here soon. He wants to see you in person. You should make a good impression, he can still send you back.”
“No pressure.” Guy muttered.
“All pressure.” Kevis said in kind.
He folded his hands in his lap, trying not to wrench at his skirts. He wanted to tear the stupid thing in two. He was so frustrated with his lot in life. He was so frustrated that his secondary gender determined so much about himself. He was property, chattel. And now he had to impress a man that he did not know. He could be turned away and sent to an institution and it would feel like it was his fault.
He was nineteen years old. He wanted to go to an omega college and study law. He was going to prove himself. Now he was trapped here. A sob escaped him, he started to cry. It was unfair. When the door opened he struggled to calm himself, but his face was already puffy from it.
He wiped his tears with the back of his hand. A man, an alpha at that, looked down at him with an interested expression. “You’re crying.” He said.
“Clever observation.” Guy snapped.
He chuckled, walked forward and grasped Guy’s face. Guy stiffened, afraid. He examined Guy’s face, memorizing his every feature. His pointed nose, his full lips, his wide eyes, the wild mass of curls that ended at the nape of his neck. Each feature examined with an interest that could almost be clinical if he ignored the attraction in his eyes. “You look prettier in person. That’s good.”
The man was handsome himself. He had pointed features and eerily bright eyes. They were almost uncanny. “Thank you?” Guy asked, not knowing what to say.
“You don’t have the faintest idea who I am, do you?” He asked. Guy shook his head, turning it in the limited ways he could when it was held so firmly in this alpha’s hands.
He let Guy go. “I am the man you’re going to marry.” He said.
So this was Jasper, Guy realized. He had known him only as ‘Mr. Barings’ up until he had come to this town in Virginia. A town in which he did not even know the name. He had no idea where he even was. Where would he even go if he turned him away? He had no money. What if his foster family did not deign to take him back? Would he be given to the state?
“If you’ll have me,” Guy mumbled. “You can still send me back. This has been made very clear.”
Jasper let him go. He sat down next to Guy, put a hand on his knee. Guy watched, letting that hand wander up his thigh. Jasper’s hands are pleasantly rough, like he had worked with them often, built callouses and a strength to them.
Guy looked at him intently, focusing on him. Usually, when he focused on a person that was when the voices came. But with Jasper he heard nothing. There were no whispers. No giggles. Nothing. It was strangely comforting, not to know.
“Have you been courted before?” Jasper asked.
“What?” Guy asked, taken aback.
Jasper smiled disarmingly. “Has anyone tried to court you before?” He asked.
“I don’t believe so.” Guy said. Who would? He was the neighborhood headcase. The type of omega made a joke of on TV. The unmarryable kind. He had no illusions here. Jasper was a much older man. He was a charity case.
“Have you ever had sex?” Jasper asked.
“I don’t see why that’s something you need to-”
“It’s very relevant.” Jasper interrupted. “If you’re going to be my mate. My wife. I need to know.”
“No.” Guy said, completely flustered.
Jasper gently grasped his wrist. Guy pulled back, flinched. He chuckled, like Guy’s fear was an amusing obstacle. “Easy there.” He said, raising Guy’s wrist to his face. Guy watched helplessly as he scented him. Jasper let out a pleased noise, liking Guy’s scent.
“It’s alright,” Jasper said. “You can trust me. I could not know your scent from letters alone. This is completely innocent.”
It did not feel innocent. It felt untoward. He swallowed dry air.
“Are you a Christian?” Jasper asked, rubbing circles against his wrist.
Guy frowned. He shifted uncomfortably. “I went to Catholic school. Before I was… back home we went to Mass on Sunday.” He said.
“But are you a Christian? What do you believe in, baby?” Jasper asked.
The pet name sets him off-kilter. “Do you want a Christian?” Guy asked. At this point, he would have done anything to make Jasper like him. Anything other than being sent away to one of those homes for broken omegas. Or an institution where they would shock and drug him until he didn’t know his own name.
“I want you to tell me the truth. No matter what you do, I don’t want you to ever lie to me.” Jasper said, deathly serious.
He is, by this point, completely flustered. Off balance. “Yes.” He said. “I believe in God.”
It was a tenuous relationship with God. Sometimes he felt like he had been abandoned by Him. But it was still there.
“A good Christian omega.” Jasper muttered, almost mockingly.
“Is that funny?” Guy asked, feeling agitated by this man that had set him so off balance.
Jasper kissed at the scent gland on his wrist. Omegas had them on the neck and the wrists and the thighs. Any of these places where vulnerable to a mating bite. The most proper place to claim an omega was on the neck. He did not think that Jasper would bite him yet. But it still felt inappropriate.
“It is not.” Jasper said. “You’re a good boy. I like good boys, very much.” That made him blush more. He felt like he must be red as a tomato. Jasper does not comment on that. “Alright. You’re good. We’ll marry in, say, three days. At the courthouse.”
“No wedding?” Guy asked. He feels a little disappointed. Every omega must dream of their wedding at some point. It had not been an obsession for Guy. But he would have liked to have even a small one. Though… who would even come? He had no friends. His ‘family’ wanted nothing to do with him. All he had and all of his hopes were hinged on this alpha.
Jasper shook his head. “I am a private person. I like to keep to myself.” He said plainly. “If you’re smart, you will keep to the manor grounds. It’s safer here. The townsfolk can be a little fanatical. They like to tell stupid stories.”
“What kind of stories?” Guy asked.
Jasper had a wicked glint in his eyes. “Oh, the kind where I am a devil worshiping monster who steals away pretty omega boys in the night to eat them, quite literally.” He said. Guy must have looked terrified, because he laughed. “Relax. It’s all bullshit. They’re just bored and want to spin a story. I’ve been looking to marry for a bit. Brought a lot of people up here looking for one and that got people talking.” He said. “But people like that have a habit of making myths real. To themselves. I just want you to be careful.” He said. “If you’re going to be mine, you’re an extension of me. They might take their petty grievances out on you and that’s not fucking fair is it?”
“No that’s not.” Guy said. He didn’t like the idea of people sniffing around his business anyway.
“No, it’s not fair to you. It’s not fair to me. So we keep to ourselves up here.” Jasper said.
…
After what felt like a job interview to be a wife, Kevis takes him to what is to be his room. “I wrangled Highsmith to actually put your stuff away. Your welcome.”
“Thank you.” Guy said. “I don’t know why he was so-”
“There’s usually a no-outside items policy. He probably expected Jasper to choose everything you need. But I don’t think that’s fair. You should be allowed to keep a few personal items during your sentence here.”
“My sentence?” Guy asked
“It’s a joke.” Kevis said. Maybe a little too fast. “It’s just that we’re so alone here. Sometimes it feels like a jail sentence.”
“Well, even if it was… I don’t really have anywhere else to go.” Guy said. “No family. No friends. No prospects. I’m a practical person. If this is prison at least its a comfortable one.”
Kevis looked at him with so much sadness. He looked at her intently. It’s all a mess and garbled. But one sentence rings out to him clearly.
‘He’s going to get eaten alive here.’
“I’ll be your friend. Okay? So don’t talk all sad like that. You have someone in your corner here. No matter what.” Kevis said. She is so sincere that Guy can’t help but believe her.
The room is nice. Nicer than the tiny, cramped closet of a room that he had had with his foster family. There is a large bed in the middle of the room, multiple dressers, a few bookcases and in one corner there is a television set that looks so brand new that it is practically sparkling. He’s never had one before. Only watched it in the living room sometimes – usually The Ed Sullivan Show or I Love Lucy, as that was what the parents preferred.
It occurred to him then that he probably would never speak to his foster family again. It’s weird. He doesn’t think he’ll even miss them. Living there had always felt… wrong. He didn’t belong. It wasn’t for lack of trying. After his mom’s death, he had a short period of upset but by the time he was eleven he had done his best to think of them as his new parents. They just didn’t reciprocate. He didn’t even know why they adopted him. Maybe they just wanted a maid, they certainly worked him hard enough.
He retired for the night, exhausted by everything that had happened. It’s easy to fall asleep that night – most nights its really not. He has to take pills or syrups to calm his thoughts. But he feels strangely relaxed. Suggestible.
His dreams are frenetic. Vivid. He dreams of a man hovering over him, hands on his body feeling every contour of him. He dreams of claws on his neck, he dreams of sharp teeth. It is monstrous and erotic all at once.
Guy woke up the next morning. He sat up and looked at himself in the mirror – set up on a little vanity table. The first thing to draw his attention was the long, thin scratches that spanned his neck to his collar. It was like something had marked him. He shuddered, touched his neck and felt the marks. They stung to the touch. He couldn’t stop looking at them.